I'll Catch You (Kimani Romance)

by Farrah Rochon

  Payton tried to sidestep him, but he caught her from behind, his arms locking around her waist.

  “Hey!” she protested. “I thought this was supposed to be touch football?”

  “Exactly,” he whispered against her neck. His hold tightened, his strong hands spanning her waist, his fingers inches from her breasts. Before she could utter a protest, Cedric’s lips connected with the one spot on her neck that drove her mindless.

  Payton gasped with need, covering the arms that latched around her and throwing her head back to give him better access. Still locked together, Cedric shuffled them to the wall. He turned her around and pinned her against it, then zeroed in on her neck again, kissing and licking and nipping his way up and down.

  He found her breast. Despite the layers of clothing separating his hand and her skin, her body’s reaction couldn’t have been stronger if they were both naked. Her nipple puckered, instantly drawing tight. Her skin burned from the inside out.

  Cedric released her neck from his erotic assault. His hand continued to caress her breast as he stared into her eyes, seeking permission. With a slight nod, Payton put an end to both their miseries. Permission granted.

  He lowered his head and captured her mouth, trailing his tongue along her lips, applying just enough pressure to coax them open. As soon as Payton relinquished, his tongue plunged into her mouth, thrusting with a power that electrified her. He fisted his left hand in her hair, his right hand still on her breast, squeezing, caressing, driving her out of her mind.

  A moan escaped her throat. It only encouraged him to kiss her harder, deeper. Payton ran her hands up and down his back, bunching the wet T-shirt in her fist. She hiked her skirt up to the tops of her thighs and wrapped her right leg around him, clutching him to her.

  The sound of a car door slamming knocked Payton out of the sensual fairy tale she’d fallen into.

  “Cedric, stop!” She used both hands to push at his chest.

  He backed away, his labored breaths soughing in and out of his mouth. He looked dazed and confused, exactly how she felt at the moment. It was hard to think. She couldn’t concentrate on anything with the sparks of electricity still firing from a thousand different points on her body.

  “Sorry that took so long,” Mrs. Shipley called. “You get a little bit of rain and traffic comes to a standstill.”

  Payton quickly pulled her suit jacket closed to cover the damp spots Cedric’s wet T-shirt had made on her satin shell. She turned to Mrs. Shipley, hoping the flush had faded from her cheeks.

  “So,” Mrs. Shipley said, looking from Payton to Cedric. “Should we discuss today?”

  “Cedric has to leave,” Payton abruptly announced.

  Cedric’s eyes darted to her. His jaw drew as hard as stone, but he didn’t refute her hastily fabricated claim.

  The center’s director turned to Cedric with hands outstretched. She grabbed his palm for an enthusiastic handshake. “Thank you so much for today. The kids will talk about this all year.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he answered. Then his eyes flashed back to Payton. He didn’t say anything, just stared at her for a moment before inclining his head and heading for the door. He stopped in the middle of the center and retrieved the mesh bag with the uniform equipment and said over his shoulder, “Keep the footballs for the kids.”

  With that, he exited the center, leaving Payton with an ache in her chest and a fire still burning in her belly.

  Chapter 9

  Cedric gripped the edge of the bathroom counter and raised his head. He stared into the mirror, studying his reflection, doing his damnedest to make sure no evidence of the riot going on inside his head showed on his face.

  If tonight didn’t kill him, he could get through anything.

  A couple of days ago, when he’d invited Payton to accompany him to Torrian and Paige’s engagement party, it had been mostly about business. He knew the place would be wall-to-wall with industry professionals who would be more interested in talking football than celebrating the happy couple’s pending nuptials.

  What Cedric had not anticipated was seeing Payton outside of her normal work mode. Gone was the briefcase and restricting business suit. Tonight she wore a seductive little black dress that hugged every curve and stopped just above her knees. After feeling those curves pressed up against him earlier today, all he could think about tonight was getting close to her.

  When Payton had opened her front door in that silky, sexy dress, Cedric’s first instinct was to say to hell with the party and sequester them in her apartment. But one kiss—as unbelievable as it was—didn’t give him the right to expect anything more from her. And now he was forced to spend hours with her at this party, knowing what her lips felt like, how her mouth tasted, how her breasts felt inside his palm and against his chest.

  And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  The door opened and his temporary sanctuary was instantly imbued with the noisy chatter that filtered in from the party. Torrian entered the bathroom, followed by Jared.

  “Hey, you hiding out on us?” Torrian asked.

  “Just taking a break,” Cedric answered. “It’s packed out there.”

  “This is the place to be tonight,” Jared said. He clamped a hand on Torrian’s shoulder. “I think most people are still trying to figure out how you and Paige hooked up after that knock-down, drag-out fight you two had on her blog.”

  Torrian had met his future wife, local entertainment writer Paige Turner, after she’d trashed his new book in a review on her blog. The fallout from their online squabble and a cooking competition the two had participated in on a local morning news show had kept all of New York glued to the television.

  “Most of the people out there couldn’t care less that Paige and I are getting married. Other than a few family members and friends, the guest list was pure strategy on Paige’s part,” Torrian said. “That woman is always working some angle. She has every food critic in the city out there.”

  “She’s a businesswoman.” Jared shrugged. “This restaurant is now her business.”

  “And business has skyrocketed since she took over the restaurant’s marketing and PR. My future wife is definitely a savvy businesswoman. And speaking of businesswomen,” Torrian said, stepping up to a urinal. “That agent of yours is working the room. I told my agent he’d better watch out. Payton may steal some of his clients right out from under him.”

  “Especially the way she’s looking tonight in that dress,” Jared said.

  Cedric took a step toward Jared, his right hand clenched into a fist. “What did I tell you about looking at my agent that way?”

  Jared backed away, his hands held up in mock surrender. “Damn, man, would you chill? Learn how to take a joke. Remember I have a girlfriend out there. I’m not about to step out on Samantha,” Jared said, turning toward the wall of urinals.

  Cedric unclenched his fist and took a deep breath.

  Torrian washed his hands, then leaned a hip against the sink, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “What?” Cedric asked, knowing Torrian had something to say. Torrian always had something to say.

  “Are you sure you want to go there with Payton?” his former teammate asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cedric said. His reply sounded like bull even to his own ears.

  “Don’t play dumb. You need to keep this thing strictly about business. Don’t blur the lines, Ced. It’ll only lead to trouble.”

  “There are no blurry lines, all right?” Cedric said. He attempted to move past him, but Torrian caught him on the shoulder.

  “You sure about that?” Torrian asked. “We used to trash Gus Houseman and you never gave a damn. Now you’re ready to tear Jared’s head off because he mentioned Payton’s dress? This isn’t smart, Cedric. There’s a reason old sayings become old sayings, and ‘don’t mix business with pleasure’ is one of the oldest in the book. Think about it, man.”

  Cedric knew Torr
ian was right. Hell, hadn’t he been telling himself the same thing for the past few weeks? He needed to concentrate on his career and making sure he remained a member of the Sabers’s organization. Derek was counting on him, and there was nothing more important than making sure his brother had everything he needed, including having Cedric only an hour’s drive away. Nothing else should matter.

  But there was a short circuit between the rational part of his brain and the part that took one look at Payton and wanted to strip her clothes off and pin her against the nearest wall. He closed his eyes against the image that thought created but it only intensified in his imagination.

  God, this was killing him.

  Cedric opened his eyes and found Jared and Torrian both staring at him.

  Jared shook his head, a grin hitching up the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got it bad, man.”

  Cedric groaned. If it was evident to these two, then everybody could probably see just how bad he really did have it for his agent. How could he offer Payton discretion if his feelings were so transparent?

  “So what do I do?” he asked them both.

  “Don’t ask me,” Torrian said. “You’re at my engagement party, remember?”

  “Can’t help you either, man. I’ll be the first to admit Samantha’s got me eating out of the palm of her hand,” Jared said, clapping a hand on Cedric’s back as the three of them exited the restroom.

  As they rejoined the party, Cedric had a feeling his situation was beyond help. When he spotted Payton standing with a circle of other women, including Paige and Deirdre Smallwood, Torrian’s sister, he knew it for certain.

  He was in major trouble.

  Payton’s head flew back as she laughed, and his eyes were immediately drawn to her neck. Just like that, Cedric was right back to their kiss that afternoon. He could feel her soft skin on his lips, taste her sweet flavor on his tongue. Every time he looked at her, his mind conjured images of what they had done in that rec center, and everything he’d wanted to do. Everything he still wanted to do.

  His groin tightened at the thought, and Cedric knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got the chance to explore every single inch of her.

  Tonight would be damn near impossible to endure. And he had a feeling it was going to get more difficult every minute they were around each other.

  Payton told herself to slow down. She had never been one to overindulge, usually stopping after one or two drinks. But she was having such a great time and the champagne and wine from the Fire Starter Grille’s extensive collection was flowing as freely as a creek in springtime.

  The night had been so festive it was hard not to get into the spirit. Everything had been over the top, starting with the delicious six-course meal they had been treated to, which had been punctuated by various toasts from friends and family members of the couple, along with a host of Sabers players.

  What a difference a few weeks made. She had spent months just trying to get close enough to introduce herself to many of these players. And here she was, rubbing elbows with them and being her most charming. At least Payton hoped she was being charming. After her third glass of champagne, everything out of her mouth seemed witty.

  “Are you having a good time?” a deep voice asked from just beyond her shoulder.

  Payton spun around, her elbow crashing into Cedric’s chest. The champagne jostled in her glass and she wobbled slightly. Cedric caught her arm and helped to steady her. She decided then and there to cut herself off. Tonight’s champagne, along with all the wine she’d consumed with her meal, was more alcohol than she usually drank in an entire month. She placed her nearly full champagne flute on a nearby table and turned fully to face Cedric.

  “I’m having a great time,” she answered with the enthusiastic slur of the slightly tipsy. “A little too great, maybe.”

  Payton could feel the blush creep up her cheeks. Or maybe she had been blushing all along and it had only intensified now that Cedric was near. Champagne had that effect on her and, Lord knows, so did Cedric.

  “Good,” he said, grabbing another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and wrapping her fingers around the stem. “You’ve been working hard this past month. You deserve to celebrate a bit.”

  He was right. She had been working nonstop since the moment he’d signed on as her client. This was her first chance to step back and enjoy herself.

  “You sure picked a great spot,” she said, motioning to their surroundings. The Fire Starter Grille, the brainchild of Torrian Smallwood, was the hottest new restaurant in central Manhattan, and Torrian’s sister Deirdre, the head chef, was making waves on the culinary scene. Payton had never even tried getting a reservation here. It was a well-known fact that the waiting list was months long.

  “Torrian does throw a great party,” Cedric agreed. “Have you been making the most of the situation?” he asked.

  “If you mean shoving my business card at every football player in the room, then, no, I haven’t,” she said. “I’ve introduced myself to a few players I’ve been eyeing, but nothing more.”

  “That’s part of the reason I brought you here, Payton. To make connections. You have every right to look for new clients,” he said. “I don’t expect to be the only player on your roster.”

  “And hopefully you won’t. But I still have to prove myself to a lot of people before other athletes believe I’m the real deal. That’s why I’m concentrating on making your career everything it should be. You’re going to get one hundred percent of me.”

  “Is that a promise?” he asked.

  The husky timbre of his voice, combined with the smoldering look in his eyes, told Payton they were no longer talking about contract negotiations. Instead of answering his question she downed the remaining champagne in one gulp, though it did nothing to cool the raging inferno in her belly.

  The beginning chords of Roberta Flack’s version of “Killing Me Softly with His Song” trickled from the speakers that were so discretely placed around the room Payton had yet to actually spot one.

  “Oh.” She brought her hand to her chest. “I haven’t heard this in years,” she said. “This was the song my mom and dad danced to at their wedding, and whenever it came on the radio, they always stopped whatever they were doing so they could dance. It didn’t matter if they were at home, out with company, even driving.”

  “Driving?”

  “That’s right,” Payton nodded. “Dad would pull onto the shoulder of the road and they would dance.” Payton wrapped her arms around herself, soaking in the memory.

  Cedric placed the champagne he’d been sipping onto a nearby table. “That sounds like a tradition worth carrying on.” He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  Payton’s heart constricted. An emotion she could hardly describe lodged itself so firmly in her throat she couldn’t speak. Instead, she placed her hand in the cradle of Cedric’s warm palm.

  He pulled her in close, entwining the fingers of his right hand with hers while his left settled against the small of her back. The spot where he touched tingled, radiating warmth throughout her entire body. As they swayed back and forth to the familiar tune, all Payton could think about was how right this felt, even while another part of her brain knew it was wrong.

  No, not wrong, just unwise. Nothing that felt this good could be completely wrong.

  She rested her cheek against his shoulder, marveling at the strength of the muscle. “You feel so good,” she whispered.

  “Not as good as you feel,” he replied so softly Payton could barely hear it. He increased the pressure on her back, pulling her in closer contact with the solid wall of his body. There was no mistaking the arousal pressing against her stomach, and the power she felt there had the same heady effect as the alcohol she’d consumed tonight.

  “Are you ready to leave?” Cedric asked.

  She raised her head, her eyes meeting his. The champagne had certainly elicited a compelling buzz, but Payton wasn’t so tipsy that she coul
d misinterpret what she saw staring back at her.

  Desire.

  Raw and potent. Hot and heart-stopping.

  It so closely mirrored what she had been feeling ever since their kiss that afternoon, she was sure Cedric could see right through her.

  “Yes,” she finally answered.

  The look in Cedric’s eyes became even more smoldering. Payton knew anyone paying attention would clearly recognize what was transpiring between them. This was a foolish mistake, blatantly engaging in what amounted to public foreplay with her client. But for the life of her Payton could not tear her gaze away from Cedric’s stare and the frank, honest desire she found there.

  Without so much as a farewell wish to the hosts, they left the party.

  The thirty-minute drive from midtown Manhattan to her apartment was completed in silence, but the sexual tension suffusing the tight confines of the vehicle said more than either of them could have verbalized. As Cedric helped her out of his SUV, Payton’s breasts grazed his chest. She felt his swift intake of breath and realized he was wound as tightly as she was.

  With his hand lightly touching the small of her back, Cedric guided her to her apartment.

  Payton’s hands fumbled with the key a few times before she was finally able to unlock the door.

  “I’ll follow you in, just to make sure you’re safe,” Cedric said.

  “I’d like that,” Payton replied. She wobbled slightly. She’d definitely had too much to drink if the champagne was still affecting her so much. Though, to be honest, the tremble in her limbs had just as much to do with the man standing only inches behind her.

  She entered the apartment first, flicking on the lamp that sat on a table next to the door. She tossed her keys onto the wooden tray next to it, then turned to Cedric, who stood just inside the open door.

  Payton stretched a hand toward him, then beyond, to the door, shutting it and pushing him back against it. As soon as the door shut, Cedric caught her head between his palms and captured her mouth in an eager assault of lips, teeth and tongue. Payton’s blood rushed through her veins as his insistent tongue plunged and retreated, emulating a rhythm that sent shockwaves directly to the spot pulsing between her thighs.