No More Playas

by Brenda Jackson

  Her taste continued to fill his mouth as he kissed her, putting everything that was him into loving her, making his already responding body even more responsive. She brought out things within him, things he hadn’t ever experienced with a woman before. In addition to this fierce need to protect, there was also this fierce urgency to mate—only with her. It was a primitive urge, instinctive, enormous.

  He pulled his mouth from hers and slipped her beneath him. “Connor?” she whispered his name, and hearing it from her lips made his body get even harder.

  “I’m not going far, baby. I just need to put on a condom.”

  Moments later he was back, holding her in his arms, kissing her again as he eased between her legs. The moment the tip of him probed into her center, he felt her warmth, her wet yearning for him. And as he began easing inside of her, something within him jolted to awareness, tugged at the heart he’d forgotten he had and shattered through to emotions he had long ago tucked deeply away.

  He loved her.

  No, that couldn’t be possible. Playas didn’t fall in love, he thought as he fought hard for control. But the only answer he got was one he knew to be the truth.This one has.

  His chest suddenly expanded and an accepting sigh, as well as a small moan, rose in his throat. He gazed down at her, met her eyes, locked into them as he felt the warmth of his love for her flow all through him. Even with all the issues she faced, in his mind and heart, she was perfect, and he would not let the horrors of her past come and invade her present again. She was his future. She was his now.

  She was his completely.

  “Connor?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  You, okay?”

  His smile deepened, his arms held her closer, his body moved further inside of her. “Yes, I’m okay,” he said truthfully.

  And then he began moving again, making love to her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight as he thrust back and forth inside of her. He felt her arch her body upward to meet his, watched as her lips parted softly as she tilted her head back, opening her body even further for him and murmured his name over and over again. The dazed look of passion on her face only stirred his desire for her even more.

  As he watched her, felt her response, heated pleasure rammed through him, and he leaned down closer and took his tongue and probed her mouth, kissing her in a way he had never kissed a woman—with fire, passion, and love—branding her, stoking the fire blazing between them even more, forcing his mind to store into memory every sensation he was feeling, every moment he was experiencing here with her.

  He couldn’t stop what he was feeling. He didn’t want to stop. And when something suddenly exploded within him, he groaned out her name as an orgasm of a gigantic magnitude tore through him and hit her. The fireworks shot off as they were plunged into sky of tremendous pleasure.

  “Connor!”

  Hearing her call his name while in the throes of passion did something to him, and he gripped her hips and thrust into her deeper as his release—seemingly unending—hit him again.

  And as he continued to shudder with the pleasure of everything he was feeling, everything he had accepted, he knew that he wanted to share this degree of intimacy with her for the rest of his life.

  They lay side by side, facing each other, not saying anything but sharing his quiet moment, the calm after such a fiery storm. Connor wanted to tell her how he felt but knew he couldn’t. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out with emotions she may not be ready to deal with.

  “Do you have to go home tonight?” he asked softly, hoping she didn’t, but understanding if she needed to. Other than that time in California, they hadn’t spent another night together.

  “Why? Do you want me to stay?”

  He met her gaze, held it. “Yes, I want you to stay.”

  She was silent for a moment, and the only sound that could be heard other than their breathing was the sound of a car passing by with its stereo blasting. Then she said, “Okay, but I’ll need to call my pop. I owe him that much respect. Since returning home I’ve never stayed out all night unless I stayed at my brother Lance’s place in Chicago.”

  Connor nodded. Whether she understood what she was trying to say or not, he did. Since being reunited with the family she hadn’t known she had, over the years she had tried being a good girl. In her mind, everything that had happened to her before that time was in some way her fault. He knew it wasn’t true and was determined to do everything in his power to make sure she knew it, as well.

  He leaned over to kiss her softly on her lips and then said, “Okay, go call your pop because I want you here with me, all night.”

  He watched as the corners of her lips lifted into a smile. “Okay.”

  She made the phone call and then got out of bed to go into the bathroom. Connor’s phone rang. He quickly reached over and picked it up. “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Connor, it’s Miller. I forgot about the difference in time and regret calling late, but thought you needed to know something.”

  Connor shifted in bed and sat up. “What?”

  “I think I have a positive ID on the woman posing as Anderson’s sister, and it’s who we thought it was, your client’s mother.”

  Damn. Connor rubbed his hands over his eyes. “But are you absolutely sure she’s the one sending the pictures and demanding money?”

  “Yes. We verified that the post office box she’d been using is hers. Can you believe it?”

  Connor shook his head. Yes, given the woman’s history, he could believe it. Some women just weren’t meant to be mothers. They gave the title a bad rap.

  “So what do you want me to do now?”

  Stuart Miller’s question pulled Connor out of his musings. “Nothing. I need to tell Carrie and then we’ll decide how we’re going to handle it. Talk to you later.” Connor then placed the phone back in the cradle.

  “That was your friend in California, wasn’t it?”

  Connor’s fingers stilled for a moment; then he moved his hand away from the phone and turned. Carrie was standing in the bathroom doorway, and he wondered how long she’d been there. “Yes, that was him.”

  He watched as a cool air of speculation filled her eyes. “He found out something?” she asked, coming to stand next to the bed.

  Connor wasn’t sure just what to tell her and how much. How would she handle finding out that her own mother was the person trying to extort money out of her. He sighed deeply and decided he would level with her and tell her the truth. She would be able to handle it. . . with him. He would see to it.

  “Yes, he did,” he said, standing and grabbing his jeans off the floor. He slipped into them and zipped them up before turning to face her.

  “He’s found out the identity of the woman who’s claiming to be Simon Anderson’s sister.”

  He watched as Carrie’s breath seemed to stop in her lungs. “Who is she?” she asked softly.

  He crossed the room to her, wanting to be touching her when he told her. He took her hand in his, felt her tremble. He pulled her closer to him, engulfed her into his arms and whispered, “It’s your mother.”

  He felt the jolt of shock that passed through her, and he pulled her closer. And then she let out a pained cry, and he wished he could wrap his hands around the woman’s neck when Carrie broke down and the tears came.

  As she cried, he held her in his arms, glad he was there to give her the support she obviously needed. And when she was ready to accept more, he would be there to offer it. In time, he would tell her about his love and that no matter what, he would always be there for her.

  28

  Lance and Asia

  Lance used his key to get inside the villa. The moment he stood in the foyer, he could hear the sound of a woman humming and a shower going in the downstairs master bedroom.

  The thought of Asia naked and standing beneath a spray of water elicited a number of wanton fantasies. Fulfilling those fantasies, he reasoned, would come later. The ma
in thing on his agenda was convincing Asia that he loved her and that he was more than worthy of her love in return. No matter what, he would not let her rob him of the opportunity to prove that.

  Stepping into the living room, he glanced around, thinking that the person he’d hired last year to decorate the place had done an excellent job. It looked stunning, from the sophisticated- looking furniture to the expensive-looking ceiling fans overhead.

  Not ready to make his presence known to Asia, he headed up the stairs to the guest bedroom to unpack and get settled. He needed all his bearings when all hell broke loose.

  Asia, beginning to relax, slipped into an oversized T-shirt after her shower. The cotton material felt soft against her naked skin, and since the garment hit midway on her thighs, she felt decent enough. Besides, even if she wasn’t decent, no one was there to complain about it.

  She had talked to Claire earlier, to let her know she had arrived and was all right and not to expect another call from her again for a while. Claire had mentioned the weather was horrible in New York and really envied her. Her sister had sounded so pitiful that for a moment Asia had been tempted to invite her to join her, but then she knew once Claire got on the island Asia wouldn’t get any work done.

  Asia glanced around and grinned. Just about anyone would envy the time she was spending here. Things couldn’t get any better than this. After taking a tour of the island earlier that day she had quickly concluded it lived up to its name—Paradise.

  She lifted her head, thinking she’d heard something, and then decided she hadn’t. The last thing she needed to do was to let her nerves get the best of her. It probably had been nothing more than a coconut falling on the thatched roof. She was used to living alone, had done so for years without a problem in her five- room apartment.

  She glanced out the huge window and saw it had gotten dark outside. A part of her hadn’t wanted the day to end. She had enjoyed the solitude of spending time on the beach doing practically nothing but relaxing and thinking about things, mostly about her and Sean. Perhaps he’d been right—that she had accepted his marriage proposal without thinking things through. But then another part of her felt that Sean was the best thing to happen to her and wished she had met him before meeting David.

  And as much as she didn’t want to think about Lance, she had. She couldn’t forget the last time she’d seen him at the writers’ conference. He had called her several times since, but once the caller ID had identified him, she had refused to take it. The two of them had nothing further to discuss.

  Her eyes narrowed to slits as she brushed her hair back from her face. The man was a playa. Hell, he wrote the book. She despised the fact that she’d let him get as close to her as he had, preying on her emotions. His persistence had worn her down. His personality was too intense. He was used to getting what he wanted, and she had played right into his hands. And what really pissed her off more than anything was his assumption that he could charm his way back into her life. Fat chance!

  Not wanting to think of Lance any longer, she slipped into a pair of flat sandals and left the bedroom. She decided to prepare something light to eat before buckling down and getting some writing done, determined to get one chapter completed before going to bed.

  Thinking it was past time to make his presence known, Lance left the guest room when he heard Asia moving around downstairs. He found her in the middle of the kitchen, standing next to the sink. She had the blender going, churning together what looked to be her own brand of a fruit smoothie. She had kicked off her shoes and was in bare feet as she went about her task.

  Lance’s insides tightened and his skin got warm at the thought that she was here with him alone in this secluded place, and he was determined that while there they would reach an understanding. He leaned back against the door. She hadn’t yet detected his presence, and he took advantage of the peaceful moment to study her. God, she was beautiful—and could inspire fantasies that you wouldn’t believe. There hadn’t been a single night that went by since they’d met that he hadn’t thought about her, dreamed about her, craved her.

  But then he knew there was more to Asia Fowler than just her physical beauty. There was that rare exuberance that shone deep within, which had ensnarled him from the start. He’d watched her interact with people. He’d seen how easily and confidently she worked an audience. Then later when an army of her readers had bombarded her, he’d seen how genuinely open and friendly she was.

  Deciding that it was way past time for him to say something, he was about to open his mouth and then stopped, immediately captivated by what he saw. She had leaned over the sink to pour some of the fruity concoction into a cup and doing so made the hem of her already short T-shirt rise higher, showing off a gorgeous pair of thighs.

  Suddenly, blood rushed through every vein in Lance’s body. He couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling down the length of her scantily clad body all the way down to her bare feet before moving back up to her face. She’d closed her eyes to sample what she’d made, and the most precious of smiles shone on her face.

  As he watched her, love—a degree he hadn’t thought was humanly possible—invaded his gut, and he was tempted to cross the room and take her into his arms. He took a step and then stopped when she suddenly went still, sensing someone’s presence.

  She swirled around, and then blinked as if she were seeing things. He decided to put her mind at ease. “Hello, Asia.”

  The ceramic mug she’d been holding fell to the floor and shattered into pieces, spilling what was left of the contents. She closed her eyes as if doing so would make him disappear. When she reopened them and saw him still standing there, all signs of shock had vanished from her gaze and were replaced by fire- spitting anger.

  “What are you doing here, Lance!” She nearly screamed out the words.

  He straightened when she crossed the room, got all into his face, madder than any woman had a right to be. She got so close, the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest, but she was too mad to notice. He sure as hell did. It was hard to keep his face blank and not to respond to the contact.

  “You did it again, didn’t you? You manipulated everything to your benefit, determined to have your way, just like you did that day you tricked me to your place for dinner. This is a game that you have to win.”

  Her words cut into him, and the quivering of her voice made him aware of just how angry and upset she was. “It’s not about winning, Asia,” he said softly, wanting her to understand. “I’m not playing a game with you.”

  “Yes, you are, and I won’t stand for it! I’m leaving!”

  Lance slowly shook his head. “You can’t leave.”

  She took a step back, visibly shaken by what he’d just said. “What do you mean I can’t leave?”

  “There is no way off the island.”

  “Of course there is a way off the island—the same way I got here. All I have to do is make a call, and the seaplane will come back.”

  Lance shook his head. “They have my orders. No one comes, and no one leaves from here.”

  Asia couldn’t do anything but stand there and stare at him when it hit her that he was dead serious. “Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

  Satisfied that she had finally asked, he met her glare and said, “A man who intends to get the one thing I want—time alone with you.”

  “When hell freezes over.”

  He chuckled, the sound more intense than amused. “Then let me issue a freeze warning, because we’re in for one hard blizzard.”

  Asia angrily pushed her hair out of her face, lifted her chin, and glared at him. “I won’t stand for this. You can’t force me to stay here against my will.”

  “And I’m not. I’m merely making you aware that there is no way off the island until I give the word. Like you, I’m here to finish a book and for rest and relaxation, as well. This place is big enough for the both of us, so being here together shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “It is a p
roblem. I refuse to spend any of my time under the same roof as you.”

  Lance crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you afraid of being alone with me? Are you worried that I will force you to face the truth—that you don’t love Sean Crews?”

  “I do love Sean!”

  A smile curved Lance’s lips. “I care to differ.”

  Her first instinct was to slap that confident smile off his face, but then she decided she would not let him make her lose control. And under no circumstances would she allow him to make her question her emotions. “I don’t care what you think.”

  “Then maybe you should, because as long as I’m convinced that I’m the man who should be a part of your life, I’m not going away. I’m determined to prove you wrong.”

  “You can’t prove anything!”

  “Then I will die trying.”

  He knew the exact moment she saw the intensity in his eyes and realized that he wasn’t about to let up, which only made her more furious. “I will find a way off this island, no matter what you say, and in the meantime you better stay away from me.”

  Without saying anything else, she quickly walked out of the kitchen and went into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  An angry Asia paced her bedroom, getting angrier by the minute. She had tried calling out to the mainland, only to find the phone—the same one she had used earlier that day— completely dead. She had gotten so mad, she had crashed the receiver down in its cradle. She also tried using her cell phone, but could not get reception—something no one had warned her about.

  Lance had somehow manipulated his way on this island with her, and there was no way he could accomplished such a feat without help . . . which meant Melissa had been in on the deceit. But then what about Claire? Her sister had known of her desire to go somewhere to be alone. Was Claire involved in this farce, as well? It wasn’t a secret how Claire felt about Asia’s engagement to Sean.

  The thought that Melissa and Claire could betray her this way was almost unbearable. She wanted to start cursing viciously and throw things but knew doing so wouldn’t help matters. She had to maintain control.