Here Comes Trouble

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Here Comes Trouble Page 4

by Delaney Diamond


  For months afterward, every time she saw him, no matter where they were or what they were doing, she had the same lurid thought.

  I want my turn.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, Matthew whistled as he entered the double doors of the Harriet Tubman Community Center on the west end. He’d spent the night thinking about the situation with Lorena, and he knew exactly what to do. Because she was involved with someone new, he had to tread carefully. He needed to readjust his plan to win her back.

  “Hey, Coach Hawthorne!” A young man coming toward him grinned broadly.

  “Where have you been?” Matthew asked. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “I’ve been busy. My mom and I have been visiting colleges.”

  “Get out of here.”

  The young man, a junior in high school, wanted to go to college, but he didn’t think he’d be able to. Matthew had counseled him and his mother about scholarships and grants available for financial aid.

  The boy looked self-conscious. “Yeah, I’m not getting my hopes up or anything, but we figured we might as well start looking into schools…you know…in case things work out. That way I’ll know which ones to apply to.” He paused. “Did you mean it when you said you’d write me a reference letter if I need it?”

  “Absolutely.” Matthew placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and lowered his head to look him in the eye. “Whenever you’re ready, you let me know. Don’t you dare hesitate. Understand?”

  The boy grinned. “Thanks, Coach.”

  Matthew continued down the hallway, stopping to scold a young man and tell him to pull up his sagging pants. He entered the administrative office to see the director and let him know Lorena could fit them into her schedule, but pulled up short when he saw Lewis Diaz in a close, intimate conversation with the office clerk in front of an open file cabinet. Their body language suggested they were talking about more than the files she held in her hands. The woman handed Lewis a piece of paper, and at that point, Matthew cleared his throat.

  “Matthew.” Lewis folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket before coming toward him with an expansive smile, as if they were best buddies.

  “What are you doing here?” Matthew’s gaze shifted to the clerk. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going,” she replied before turning her attention back to the open drawer.

  “I stopped by to talk to you for a minute, man-to-man.”

  It didn’t take a clairvoyant to know Lewis wanted to talk about Lorena. “You’ll have to make it fast. I need to get out on the field with the boys.”

  “I promise not to hold you up too long.”

  “All right. Follow me.”

  Matthew led Lewis down the hall. They passed by the gym, the art rooms, and the classrooms used for after-school tutoring.

  Inside the office, Matthew sank into the squeaky chair behind the desk across from Lewis.

  “How can I help you?”

  “It was nice to finally meet you yesterday.”

  Matthew remained silent. Good manners dictated he say nothing if he didn’t have something nice to say.

  “I want to talk to you about Lorena. What are your intentions toward her?”

  Matthew forced back an indignant laugh. “Who are you, her father?”

  Lewis brushed nonexistent lint from the black trousers of his crossed legs. “I’m very serious about Lorena, and my intentions toward her are honorable.”

  “And what are your intentions toward the clerk?”

  “Oh, that?” Lewis shrugged dismissively. “Just making conversation.”

  “She gave you her number.”

  Lewis held his gaze for a moment before smiling. “I hope you’re not thinking about telling Lorena you saw me talking to another woman. First of all, it was an innocent conversation, and second of all, coming from you, that would be a little suspect, don’t you think?”

  His self-confidence got on Matthew’s nerves. Primarily because he had a point. Lorena would never believe anything he said about Mr. Perfect.

  Lewis continued. “I happen to know you’re the first man she slept with. I realize sometimes there’s a certain…how should I put it…sentimentality attached to one’s first sexual partner, and of course, when that person comes back into one’s life, it could create some confusion.”

  Matthew tipped back in the chair, and it creaked under his weight. He rested his elbow on the armrest and stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “So what you’re saying is, you’re afraid that ‘one’—namely Lorena—might still have feelings for me and you want to know if I plan to pursue her. Did I get it right?”

  “Something like that.” Lewis continued to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I suspect you’re using the need for this grant as an excuse to get close to her again.”

  “What if I am? You must not be confident in your relationship if you feel the need to come here and warn me. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Warning me away?”

  Lewis’s face changed, slipping into a steely mask, all friendliness gone. “Call it whatever you want, but I want to preserve my relationship with Lorena. She’s the right kind of woman. She comes from a good family, she’s attractive, no scandals in her background, and other than you, no baggage.”

  “What does she get? Oh, I know, a man who acts perfect to her face but sneaks around behind her back.”

  “You’re one to throw stones.”

  “I never cheated on her.”

  “Hmm. I must have been misinformed, then.” Lewis checked his manicure before lifting his eyes to Matthew again. “Let’s be honest here. I can give her the life she deserves. You can only offer her a fraction of what I can. You’re not even in the same league as I am.”

  Anger boiled up inside Matthew. To hold himself in check, he balled one hand into a fist. “Lorena doesn’t care about your money. In case you forgot, she has money of her own, from her father, but she chose to start her own business and make her own way. She wants to make a difference in people’s lives, and helping organizations get grant money is very important to her.”

  As a triple minority, she took pride in helping African-Americans, women, and Latinos obtain monies specifically set aside for them.

  “All of that will change once we’re married,” Lewis said flippantly with a toss of his hand. “She can help twice as many people by writing a check. I know, because I do it.”

  “You don’t even respect her work, do you? You think it’s a waste of time.”

  “She won’t have time for those menial tasks when we’re married. Make no mistake, I do intend to marry her, but I don’t need you causing her to feel any confusion about making the right decision. You had your chance, and you blew it. You enjoyed the chase, and once you caught her, you tossed her aside for the next great hunt.”

  Matthew’s back straightened. “That’s not what happened.”

  He’d never tell him Lorena initiated their sexual encounter the morning after he’d seen her home safely. Not that he hadn’t wanted her before then, but he’d known she was innocent, and he hadn’t wanted to cross the line with her because she was not only his sister’s best friend, he considered her a friend, too. He hadn’t had the power to resist her warm body and the scent of her skin that morning. He should have, but he’d been weak.

  “No? I’ve gathered as much information as I can from her family, and from her, and the same theme keeps coming through. You wanted her, you snagged her, and then you dumped her without a care once you found a new woman. You never stick around long, and Lorena was nothing but another victim in your long line of hookups. She deserves better. She’s not a hookup.”

  “I agree, she’s not a hookup. I care a lot about her.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  He didn’t need to explain anything to this man, but he still heard himself say, “I made a mistake, and I intend to rectify it.”

  Lewis sat up straight. “What does that mean?” He looke
d as though he might explode, which meant he fully comprehended Matthew’s comment.

  “It means I intend to get her back.”

  “Over my dead body!”

  “So be it.” Matthew shrugged. “You wanted to talk man-to-man, well, I’m telling you, as a man, what my intentions are. Your relationship can’t be too solid if you’re sitting here trying to warn me to stay away from her. Let the better man win.”

  Lewis leaned forward. “Listen to me. You come within two feet of her for any other reason than to work on the grant, and I promise you, you’ll regret it. Do you understand me?”

  Matthew sized Lewis up with a flick of his eyes. He already knew he was taller and had a wider build than him. There was no doubt in his mind he could take him.

  “I think you better get out of here before I do something that gets me arrested. These kids look up to me, and I’m trying to set a good example for them.”

  He stood, and Lewis jumped to his feet, too, alert. Matthew placed his fists on the desk and rolled his shoulders forward—adopting an aggressive stance, meant to intimidate. It made him look bigger and more formidable.

  “And by the way, don’t ever threaten me again. I don’t like it. If you ever talk to me like that again, the next time I won’t be so nice. The next time, I’m putting my fist through your face, and the consequences be damned.”

  Lewis gave a short laugh, but Matthew saw the unease in his face. “I see there’s no reasoning with you.”

  “Not when it comes to Lorena. You want her. I want her. Now it’s up to Lorena to choose, and I intend to do everything in my power to make sure she chooses me.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Hawthorne.”

  “So are you, Linus.”

  “Lewis.”

  Matthew gave him his bored look. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? Pretty soon neither Lorena nor I will remember your name, because you’ll be long gone out of the picture.”

  “It’s true what I’ve heard about you. You are a troublemaker.”

  Matthew didn’t respond, choosing instead to stare at him with the same bored expression, letting him know he wanted the conversation to be over.

  Lewis’s jaw set in a hard line. “I can see I made a mistake coming here. The gloves are off. Let the better man win.”

  After he left, Matthew stared at the desk in thoughtful silence. If Lorena’s relationship with Lewis wasn’t solid, winning her back may not be as difficult as he’d originally thought.

  ****

  Saturday afternoon, Matthew arrived at Lorena’s office with two large boxes in hand. They contained documents, photo albums, old event programs, and other items to help her get a complete picture of the center and its work.

  Since she had to stop at the office on her way to a Women in Business dinner, she suggested they meet there so he could drop off the boxes. After-hours and on the weekends, the exterior doors were locked, and a code was needed to get in. During their run as a couple, she’d given him her code, which had made it possible for him to meet her in her office without her having to go downstairs to let him in.

  He stopped short in the doorway when he saw her standing at the credenza, riffling through a stack of papers. She bent over and scribbled a note in pencil on one of the sheets. She looked absolutely breathtaking in a burnt-orange wraparound dress that clung to her toned body and accentuated every curve. His shaft swelled eagerly as he envisioned pushing the dress up past her waist and sinking into her. The vision almost made him drop the boxes on his own foot.

  The inviting scent of her perfume filled the small office, reminding him of how she used to spray it on before she left for work each morning, how he often moved aside a swathe of her shiny chocolate curls and pressed his nose to the scented curve of her neck, reluctant to let her go because he knew he had to wait at least ten hours before he saw her again.

  “Where do you want these?” he asked.

  When she looked at him, his body tightened again in the same way it had the last time he saw her.

  “You can put them here,” she replied. She stacked two piles of paper on top of each other and scooted to the side so he could set the boxes on the credenza.

  Once he set them in the cleared space, Matthew didn’t move right away. He looked at how the two halves of the dress crisscrossed over her firm, high breasts. He missed the girls. Missed sucking them. Missed licking them. Missed how the toffee-colored tips pebbled hard in his mouth when he closed his lips over them.

  “You look nice,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. “That color suits you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hated the sound of that frigid tone.

  Positioned in the corner where the credenza and desk met, she wasn’t even looking at him—simply staring at some spot on the desk, as if she wished he wasn’t there. He wanted a reaction. He needed to know something of what they’d shared hadn’t completely died because of his inconsiderate treatment of her. He needed to know he still had a shot at making her his, despite the slick new man in her life.

  When he moved to step away, he let his arm brush against the side of her breast. His movement almost backfired. A wave of lust crashed over him, and he bit down on his lower lip to force back a moan and cursed his swelling penis as it ached even more to get at her.

  ****

  Lorena drew a sharp breath. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Did what?” Matthew asked innocently. As if he didn’t know.

  “I’ve warned you already.”

  “Yes, you have,” he agreed. “I’m so doggone hardheaded.”

  “Yes, you are.” Lorena swallowed hard. His touch had rattled her. Her nipples ached from the slight contact, and it took tremendous effort not to rub up against him to soothe the tightened buds. She lowered her gaze and fiddled with the pencil in her hand, needing to look away from him for a moment to bolster her nerves. Reinforced, she looked him right in the eyes. “You’re not allowed to touch me.”

  Why did saying the words “touch me” suddenly make her suffer from shortness of breath? Perhaps it was the heat that flared in the dark pools of Matthew’s eyes because he’d felt the intimacy of the words, too. He walked slowly over to the opposite wall, shoving his hands into his pockets, and casually leaned back against it while his gaze devoured her in the deafening silence.

  “I’m not?” he asked.

  “No, you’re not,” she said firmly. She had to set the ground rules for this to work.

  “I think we have a problem then. Because I’ve been here all of two minutes…” His tongue dragged along the seam of his mouth, moistening his thick lips. His gaze settled on her breasts, and her nipples tightened even more. “And I keep wanting to touch you. I keep wanting to get up under that dress.”

  The pencil snapped in two with a loud pop. His gaze dropped to the pieces in her hand, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.

  “Get out,” Lorena said, tossing the halves on her desk before they dropped from her trembling fingers. “From now on, we should limit our communication to phone and e-mail.”

  He looked unconcerned by her declaration. Probably because he had no intention of doing what she said.

  She feared she’d made a mistake when she agreed to write the proposal. She should have seen past the extra money to the emotional strain being so close to Matthew could cause.

  Though she desperately wanted to, she couldn’t forget what it was like to be taken by him. Whether it was being handcuffed to his king-size bed or dragged to the carpet and having to suffer the bruises on her back from their frantic coupling, Matthew knew how to give her pleasure. At times she felt selfish because it seemed he always made love to her, and she seldom had the opportunity to make love to him. But he didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, it clearly stroked his ego to make her scream and beg and climax so hard she was exhausted afterward.

  “I’ll touch base with you next week,” he said on his way out, the same knowing smirk on his face. “Have a good time to
night.”

  Moments later, when she felt capable of walking, Lorena edged over to the window. He paused at his vehicle and looked back at the building, seeming to look right at her through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. Her breath wedged in her throat.

  Could he see her?

  She didn’t think so. She held her breath until he got into the SUV. When he drove away, she breathed slowly and closed her eyes.

  Lorena sighed and pressed her fingers to her throbbing temple. Finishing this proposal was a priority because she needed to get him out of her life.

  This might be the fastest one she’d ever written.

  Chapter Five

  Matthew’s stomach growled, a signal he’d been so wrapped up in work he’d forgotten to eat. Yawning, he rubbed his hand across his bare chest. He rolled his shoulders, which were tense from having been hunched over his laptop on the coffee table in the living room.

  His job in network security paid well—six figures, in fact—but at times it required a high level of dedication, and on this Saturday night, he was hard at work. As one of the team leaders in his department, he’d been instructed to rewrite the security policies and procedures for a new client whose firewall had been breached. After several hours, he needed a break.

  He closed the laptop and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. His bare feet touched the cold tile, and his toes curled in protest. He opened the refrigerator, hoping to find something to eat. The shelves, almost empty, contained a box with a few slices of pizza, which looked dry and unappetizing.

  “Beggars can’t be choosy,” he mumbled, placing the slices on a plate and warming them in the microwave.

  A few minutes later, he shoved Bullitt, his favorite Steve McQueen movie, into the DVD player, popped a soda, and settled down on the sofa. He’d just eaten the last slice of pizza when the doorbell rang insistently, as if someone were leaning on it. Hitting pause on the DVD player, he noted the time. It wasn’t very late, but night had already fallen. On the other side of his wall of windows, the lights of the Atlanta cityscape lit up the darkness.

 

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