Admit It

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Admit It Page 5

by Francesca Penn


  “Your eyes, the way you look at me says a lot. Your body…” He wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck and his thumb rested over her pulse. Her surprised gasp left her lips slightly parted, the matte lip-gloss lightly tinted her full lips. He ached to kiss her; instead, he licked his lips and continued. “Your heartbeat has accelerated, your breathing is shallow, and your lips are parted.”

  He smiled when she clamped them together.

  “Dex…I’m…what are you doing?”

  Dex was already three buttons down when she asked. The tiny button – number four – slipped away from its latch.

  “Opening your shirt. I want to see you.” Five. Six.

  “I didn’t give you permission.” She tried to sound more stern than aroused. Seven. Eight.

  “So, tell me to stop, Cayla.” His voice was husky, and his cock pressed against his slacks.

  She opened her mouth and closed it again, but nothing came out. Nine. Ten.

  Dex slid the shirt open further to view his prize.

  “Oh, Cayla,” he moaned.

  Her golden breasts were encased in a black, lace bra. Her toned torso dipped into tight pants. Each breath she took drew him back to the twin mounds waiting to be tasted, but his curiosity for another part of her pushed him further. His fingers etched her breasts as both hands slid down the lace. His thumbs traced her belly down to the waist of her jeans. His fingers expertly unbuttoned them.

  “Wha…” she started. He pulled down the zipper. His eyes rested on matching lace. He throbbed with lust. She whimpered when his thumb slowly followed the vertical path between her belly button and the top of her panties. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  “If you don’t want me, tell me,” he whispered. Up. Down. “Or, you can admit you want me.” Defiance flashed in her eyes.

  “I don’t want you.” Dex was sure she didn’t believe herself any more than he did. This time his thumb slipped beneath the lace and stopped just above her slit then back up. Smooth, just as he’d imagined.

  “Make it believable, honey. Look me in my eyes and tell me that you don’t want to kiss me again. That you haven’t thought of things you want me to do to you.” He used his knee to open her thighs wider and moved his hand down to cup her over the material of her jeans. “That you don’t want my fingers, tongue, and cock right here.” He patted the area for emphasis.

  Dex pushed her until she was sitting on the edge of his desk and positioned himself between her thighs. He ran his hands up the smooth skin on her sides, stopping just beneath the cups of her bra. His heart was beating just as fast as hers. Everything he’d wanted for the last few months was right in front of him. He knew it was a risk to keep goading her, but he needed to shock her out of denial.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and challenged. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

  He held his breath when she looked him in the eyes. He half expected to her to push him away and silently prayed that she didn’t. She studied his face, mainly his lips, before their eyes met. Her hazel eyes brimmed with lust.

  “Hmm…”

  Cayla’s hum was so soft that anyone would have ignored her any other time. But not Dex, and not at such a pivotal moment. That small, soft, almost undetectable sound made his blood thick with desire and the dam holding him back broke.

  He crashed his lips against hers, claiming the sequel of the moment that constantly replayed in his head. The exploration of the first kiss was gone. Instead, greedy, lip nipping, tongue sucking, moan producing kisses powered their tongued tango. Cayla gave as good as she got. Her nails dug into his biceps making him imagine them all over his body. His erection begged to be released. They both moaned when their centers rubbed against each other. His fingers wove into the silky strands of hair at the base of her skull and pulled her head back. A soft gasp escaped her lips, then she moaned when he devoured her throat.

  Her fingers found his head and pulled him closer, urging him to give her more pleasure. He obliged, then unsnapped her bra, and rested his hands on her back. Dex was so turned on that even the material of her shirt rubbing against the back of his knuckles was fucking erotic. Within seconds, he had her shirt and bra on his desk and pulling an erect nipple into his eager mouth. He sucked and nipped at her breast like they were the tastiest gourmet meal he’d ever tried.

  “Dex…”

  A partial whimper cut off what she was about to say. The sound of his name had never been so arousing. He pushed her back on his mainly empty desk and kissed down her torso until he reached her left hip right above her jeans. He hooked his fingers at the seam and paused to look at her.

  Her hair was fanned out on his desk, skin flushed, lips moist and slightly swollen.

  “You’re so fucking sexy. I want you right now, Cayla.”

  He stood up straight preparing to remove her jeans if she gave the okay. The movement drew her eyes to his erection. His mind would have melted when she licked her lips if some asshole didn’t pick that moment to start banging on his office door. The sound jarred Cayla out of the lust bubble he’d just created, and she was off his desk heading to the bathroom with her discarded clothes in record time. No, really, she could have won Olympic gold.

  Dex adjusted his erection. It needed time to go down, but he could make it less obvious. He was going to kill – no, kill was too polite – murder the person on the other side of the door.

  “Hey, Boss Man!” Daniella’s annoying voice was enough to kill his erection. The last thing he needed was for Little Miss Eyefucker to think it was for her. He really should have fired her when she first started looking at him like he was naked.

  Dex smoothed his shirt and hair before flinging open the door. Her nosy ass eyes tried to survey the office behind him. He saw slight disappointment in her eyes when she didn’t see anything interesting. “What? Why are you banging on my door like a crazy person?”

  She gave him a sultry look then shrugged nonchalantly. “My table is requesting to speak to my manager.”

  “And the other manager is?”

  “In the kitchen overseeing a VIP’s order.”

  Dex folded his arms. “I don’t like surprises, what do they think you did? And don’t say ‘nothing’ like you did earlier today.”

  Daniella rolled her eyes. “They think I’m not listening to them. Something about not what they ordered.” If Dex’s parents didn’t raise him better and he wasn’t scared of jail, he’d choke her. Daniella is by far his worst server. He’d initially changed her job from hostess to server, so she would be busier and have less time to ogle him, but it didn’t work. She was equally creepy.

  He sighed. “Tell them I’ll be there shortly.” He closed the door, sent Cayla a text, and grabbed his notepad to head back into the Valentine’s craziness. He silently hoped the complaint was bad enough to let Daniella go.

  Chapter 7

  Cayla peeked around the door of Dex’s now dark office. She turned off the lights, so she could look for an escape without being detected. Once the hall was clear, she silently closed the door and scurried to the other side of the hall to appear to be coming from the restroom area. The last thing she need was a witness to her Walk of Shame, or is it called a Hoe Stroll? Either way, she was extremely aroused and felt like a terrible person.

  The buzz of conversation reached her preoccupied ears as she neared the dining room. Sharply dressed couples awaited tables, and others were being directed to their seats. For the second time that night, she was blown away with the changes they’d made for Valentine’s Day. The lighting was dimmed for ambience, and soft music flowed through the restaurant’s speakers. The tables by the bar were replaced with lounge furniture so people could socialize while looking out to the beautifully lit waterways.

  Subtle Valentine’s Day decorations were placed throughout. She particularly loved the table bouquets of white, red, and pink flowers. They weren’t big and bulky. The square, glass vases atop the champagne colored linen tablecloths had subtle beading and the
low profile made them compact enough to not take up much space, but the overall impact was romantic.

  Cayla pulled out her phone and called her voicemail before placing her phone to her ear. “Uh huh. Okay, bye,” she said to no one as she slid into her chair. Darrin looked up from his phone and smiled. She forced one back. “Sorry, checking on my pregnant sister,” she lied.

  Darrin placed a big hand on top her hers and patted it and grinned at her. “It’s okay. I took the moment to respond to a few work emails.”

  All her guilt returned and shrouded her like a dark cloud. She was a tramp, a skank, a trollop, a…a…floozy! Okay, she needed to update her self-deprecating vernacular later, but the sentiment was the same. She was on a Valentine’s Day date in her favorite restaurant and instead of sampling the special menu with her date, she was sampling the owner. Sampling? Nope. She was seconds from having the main course and – with the way he was looking at her – dessert. Her skin still tingled from his touches and kisses. Her body craved him, and it scared her.

  Before he’d ever spoken to her, her body reacted to his presence. The first time she saw him, he was approaching their table on Nick’s birthday. She was captivated. His dark blond hair was trimmed on the sides and the top was just long enough to make her want to touch the soft waves. His gray eyes were filled with amusement and adoration as he focused on Kalilah’s back. She liked his nose; it wasn’t too big or too small, or too straight or crooked. His lips were curved into a grin and still looked kissable.

  He had moved with confidence; head held high, erect spine, his right hand in his pocket. His white linen shirt stretched across his body and clung to his muscles and his gray slacks looked like they were made exclusively to make him look good. She then understood what people meant when they said their heart stopped. He didn’t notice her watching him that day, but it felt like time slowed down and no one else mattered.

  She’d felt a slight stab of jealousy when he’d wrapped his arms around Kalilah and fed her a piece of steak. She wanted him to look at her the way he’d looked at her sister. His warm greetings to the rest of the party made her feel like an outsider. His interaction with her was brief, but her hand tingled from his touch hours after he was gone; his scent stayed with her the rest of the day, and his voice was the inspiration for her solo session that night.

  She’d soon buried her attraction to him because his actions had led her to believe that he had secret feelings for Kalilah. Plus, she’d always pictured herself with a black man. Cayla hated drama and did not want to be the constellation prize in some twisted love triangle. Kalilah laughed when she told her about her theory. She’d left out the part about being attracted to him.

  “Dex is extremely blunt,” she’d countered. “If he wanted a woman, she would know without a doubt.”

  Kalilah had waved off any argument that maybe he wasn’t that obtuse because of his brother. “No, Cayla. Trust me. When he’d pretended to be interested in me to see if I was an opportunistic slut, it didn’t feel natural. Something tells me…if Dex wants a woman, it would be undeniably obvious.”

  Cayla wasn’t fully convinced. They’d seen each other in a group setting a few times; he’d poured all his attention on Kalilah and had barely spoken to her. But, proof of Kalilah’s theory slammed into her with the speed and intensity of a freight train.

  Cayla arrived at The Food Lab hungry and excited on a brisk early October afternoon. She loved Dex’s food and couldn’t wait to sample the choices for the wedding menu. The warmth of the restaurant and the tantalizing smell of good food welcomed her. She shrugged off her jacket and tossed it in an empty chair. Cayla sucked down her disappointment when a quick glance confirmed that Dex was nowhere in sight. She hugged and kissed her parents and had just ordered a spiked hot white chocolate when her senses kicked in.

  She developed goosebumps on her arms and her body pinged with acute awareness. She was being watched. Her eyes locked with intense gray ones, and she instantly knew his intentions. Her stomach flipped, and her pulse raced. Luckily, she’d outwardly maintained her composure. His gaze was so penetrating that she’d felt naked and vulnerable. Each pass of his eyes stripped another layer. She could almost feel the smolder.

  Cayla used to think the idea of smoldering looks was stupid because actors and models overused it. Dex wasn’t trying to use it for his advantage. He probably didn’t know he was doing it, but she was well aware. He was outwardly cool and casual, but his gaze was heated. He stood across the room with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, the dampness of his hair made it look darker, and his black, long-sleeved shirt, with a white Nike logo on the left side of his muscular chest and the gray words “Just Do It” ran down his sides. The words mocked her; by the time their connection was broken, her nipples were hard, and she was aroused.

  Cayla was immediately annoyed with him and his instigating ass shirt. Her reaction to him was throwing her off her life plans. She could not find her black husband if she was distracted by Dex. She’d avoided him since that day until he located her at the wedding.

  “Cayla? Are you still there?” Darrin asked slightly annoyed.

  “Sorry.”

  She smiled and chose to ignore the practically empty plate of calamari. Missing her favorite appetizer because he ate all of it was a small penance to pay for the reason she missed it. Cayla willed herself to focus while he launched into another story about financial woes. Well, not his financial woes – he made sure she knew he was well off and financially secure. She admired a secure and ambitious man, but Darrin’s stories seemed rehearsed and boring.

  Cayla tried to look over the fact that he was extremely materialistic. She loved the finer things in life, but the pull to those things were usually because of the quality not the ability to brag about the label. She liked what she liked and didn’t give a damn who made it. Granted, she adored the pink Louboutin pumps that currently rested on her feet, but she bought them for herself not validation. She hid a yawn when Janice, God bless her, showed up with their entrees.

  Her medium-well Oscar style ribeye looked as delicious as she knew it would be. Her mouth watered when her rice pilaf and braised Brussel sprouts were placed in front of her. This food would cure this fantastically boring date. Cayla’s stomach growled since she hadn’t eaten since lunch.

  She was three bites into her steak when she realized that Darrin only ordered a chicken Caesar salad. It was delicious – she’d tried most of the menu at this point – but seemed awfully light for dinner. Cayla raised her eyebrow and chose to believe the reason he ordered a salad was because he wanted to eat light and not because it was the least expensive thing on the menu.

  “Did I tell you about that time I vacationed in Saint-Tropez?” Cayla chose to focus on her meal and smile and nod when it was appropriate. He was having a conversation with himself about himself. It was obvious how a guy as attractive as Darrin was still single. Not once had he asked her anything personal beyond how she was related to Dex.

  As if on cue, his soft sexy chuckle reached her ears. All the desire she had crammed down reappeared in full force. He was smiling at one of his customers, truly engaged in what the couple at the table was telling him. His ever-elusive dimple was present, and he looked carefree. His brother, Nick, had a big dimple in each cheek and they were visible anytime he made an expression, but you had to work to see Dex’s dimple.

  It took Cayla a few seconds to realize that Dex was speaking Spanish to the couple. Darrin’s voice faded into the background as she watched Dex. He threw his head back and laughed; she fought the desire to kiss his neck and Adam’s apple. She shivered at the memory of his lips being wrapped around her nipples; his scent was still on her hands, and she ached to finish what they’d started.

  Their eyes met for a moment and his expression said, “I told you.” She immediately began to imagine how different her night would have gone had she listened to Dex and her sister. She knew when he’d asked her out that they would have been somewhere n
aked, and her trip to his office confirmed her suspicion. It was too hot too fast, and she needed to keep a distance.

  She looked at Darrin. The poor guy didn’t even notice that she wasn’t paying attention. Cayla wasn’t conceding that Dex and Kalilah were completely right, but they were right on target in Darrin’s case. He was boring; she wondered if he knew that all he talked about was making and spending money. She asked Janice for the check; her date had been the longest hour of her life.

  Janice packed up her leftovers and placed the bill on the table. Darrin’s chocolate brown eyes slid from her and back to the black bill jacket then back to her. Once he realized she wasn’t taking the bill, he reluctantly dragged the bill closer with a well-manicured finger. He slid his credit card in without reading the total.

  Cayla’s directness kicked in; she couldn’t take it anymore. “Darrin, it was lovely getting to know you over dinner, but I don’t think the date should continue; we do not have anything in common. I don’t want to waste your time.” Her voice was sincere because she meant it. He wasn’t a bad guy just not for her.

  “Typical,” he scoffed, eyes full of judgment. “So, you come here with me and order the most expensive thing on the menu and an appetizer…”

  “An appetizer that you ate…” He made a face but continued his tirade.

  “You wait until the bill is paid to say the date isn’t working.” Cayla felt her anger rising. She didn’t want to make a scene, but his voice got louder with every syllable.

  “I don’t need your money. I’ve ordered and paid for the same two items every time I’ve come here. It’s my standard order. If you felt it was too expensive, Mr. Moneybags, you should have spoken up in the beginning.”

  He frowned at her. “I was hoping for a return on my investment. I want a refund. I’m tired of women accepting dates for free meals. It ends here.”

  Cayla worked too hard to pay her own way for this boring ass man to accuse her of being too cheap to buy her own meal. She was fuming; the only reason she didn’t pick up the tab is because he invited her out for Valentine’s Day only to talk about himself the entire time and looked like he expected her to pay for his salad. She reached in her clutch and pulled out a one-hundred dollar bill.

 

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