Love in the Limelight: Volume One

by Brenda Jackson, A. C. Arthur

  His teeth raked over her swollen lips, dragged a heated path down her neck where he bit none too gently. Her head fell back, banging lightly against the door. She inhaled and exhaled frantically, her own hands roaming from his taut shoulders down his muscled back. His touch was heated, the feel of his body beneath her fingertips electric. She whispered his name, over and over, because she was so full of him. No questions, no recriminations, just him.

  He was moving downward, his tongue scraping along her chest, nipping at her nipples through her blouse. Her fingers clenched in the material of his shirt, trying to pull him back. She wanted his lips again, his tongue, everything.

  But he had other ideas. Down farther, his face buried in her midsection. He mumbled something; it sounded like her name. His hands were still gripping her bottom, pulling and squeezing until heat waves floated to her center, the pulsating dampening her panties.

  He moved farther down until he just passed the zipper of her slacks. He stopped there, extended his tongue and licked. His tongue moved over the linen material but she felt it as if it were her bare skin. Instinctively her legs parted.

  He groaned again.

  She sighed as he licked once more.

  Her thighs were shaking now, her center lips throbbing incessantly. His face burrowed deeper between her legs and she thought he’d suffocate. But his breathing continued, just as ragged and frustratingly fast as her own. He continued licking as his fingers moved to the center of her bottom in a scintillating motion, up and down.

  Her entire body trembled. “Akil,” she cried raggedly.

  She heard her voice, could barely recognize the wanton tone and was about to speak when she heard something.

  It was music. No, more like a jingle. A cell phone jingle?

  Akil cursed, letting his forehead rest on her thigh. Yep, it was a cell phone jingle. It was Akil’s phone ringing.

  With another long string of curses, he stood up, reached in his back pocket and pulled the phone out. His eyes locked with hers and she saw his lips, too, were swollen. Lifting a finger, she touched his bottom lip and felt herself moving closer, wanting—no, needing—another taste.

  She kissed his bottom lip gingerly, then licked its plump surface. He groaned and leaned in closer to her, pressing his obvious arousal into her.

  And that damned jingle kept playing.

  “Dammit!” Akil roared. He tore his mouth away from hers and looked down at the phone.

  And just like that the heat that had engulfed them just seconds ago stalled. Replacing it was a frigid breeze that came the moment he stepped away from her.

  He gave her his back, pressed Talk and said, “Hello?”

  When he turned back around that look in his eyes had changed and Charlene felt ten times a fool. What the hell had she been thinking, letting him paw at her, kiss on her, arouse her the way he had?

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Their moment was over. Whoever that was on the other end of the phone had shattered it, effectively taking all his attention.

  Well, the last thing she intended to do was beg. Instead she moved away from the door, giving him the out she knew he sought.

  Seconds later he’d unlocked it, walked through it and left her.

  Alone.

  Aroused.

  And pissed the hell off!

  Chapter 10

  “First.” She started talking the moment she stepped onto the terrace. Akil was sitting in the seat at the head of the table. He’d long since stopped sitting across from her in the morning when they shared breakfast. He sat at the head and she sat right on the end beside him.

  She’d enjoyed those breakfasts. After their rocky start, these last two weeks had brought new hope for her and Akil. He was no longer acting like a year-round Scrooge and had actually smiled a time or two when Jason and his interminable silliness got out of hand. Excitement about the project was steadily brewing, within her and the rest of the Playascape staff. She was beginning to believe it was really going to happen.

  The memory of last night played brightly in her mind. She’d thought about it for hours while tossing and turning. Part of her wanted to be supremely pissed off at Akil. Another part was pissed off at herself for letting things go too far.

  This morning she’d awakened determined to get some things off her chest.

  “Let me just clear the air,” she continued. “I am not now nor will I ever be an opportunist. I’m not a groupie or some right-here-right-now chick. I don’t care what impression I may have given you last night but I don’t jump into bed with just anybody, even if they’re about to give my music career a head start. And I don’t appreciate being toyed with as if I do.”

  He sat back in the chair, lifting both his hands as if to say he was calling a truce. “Charlene.”

  She shook her head, afraid that if she didn’t get it all out at once she’d chicken out. “No.” Cutting him off was rude but that was nothing in comparison to what he’d done to her last night. “I’m talking. I appreciate all you’re doing for me career-wise. But everything else, if you’re not serious in throwing your attention my way, then I’d prefer you back off altogether. I didn’t come out here for these head games you insist on playing. Truth be told, I’m tired of them.”

  He stood and reached for her hand but she backed up.

  “Don’t touch me, Akil. I’m telling you that now is definitely not the time.”

  Dropping his hands to his sides, he sighed in frustration. “Fine. Then would you just sit down and listen to me for a moment? I totally respect what you’ve said, but I have something to say, too.”

  She thought about it a moment. She shouldn’t. Her speech had been delivered, and very well if she could say so herself. Walking away from him now would prove her point. She was just about to go when she made a fatal mistake.

  She looked into his eyes.

  And everything she’d been thinking, feeling, fell to the side. He didn’t look angry or intense. He looked confused, broken-down almost.

  Now, that could be what she’d wanted to see but she wasn’t willing to let it slide.

  “Well, I do have to eat breakfast,” she said finally and took her seat.

  He sat down, too. The morning was a little overcast with huge gray clouds moving fiercely through the sky. It unnerved Charlene a bit since the local weather forecasters had been tracking Hurricane Viola’s path through the Caribbean Islands.

  “Worried about the storm?” he asked and she realized she must have been looking up at the dismal sky. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. I didn’t buy a beachfront property for just that reason. We’re fairly secluded out here so a heavy rain and some wind is usually all we get.” Obviously she didn’t look convinced because he reached out to take her hand. She pulled out of his reach. “I promise not to let anything happen to you.”

  “Forgive me for not putting a lot of stock in your promises,” she quipped.

  “I apologize for last night,” he said, looking directly at her. “Not for touching you or kissing you. Not for anything that happened between you and me. Because I meant that. I wanted that.” He inhaled, then exhaled slowly. “But I apologize for the phone call and for leaving the way I did. It was rude.”

  “It was hurtful,” she amended.

  He nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

  “Who was on the phone?” She asked the question she’d sworn a million times she wasn’t going to ask.

  And he hesitated just like she knew he would.

  “It was an old friend. One that I haven’t heard from in a long time and one I’m not thrilled about hearing from now.”

  “I see,” she said, nodding.

  He immediately started shaking his head. “No. You don’t. It wasn’t a female friend.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, let’s just forget about it. The phone call had nothing to do with you and I shouldn’t have left the way I did. So I’m apologizing.” He re
ached his hand out to her again. “Forgive me?”

  Looking down at his upturned hand she thought of all the reasons why she shouldn’t. Because he’s arrogant, and more often than not rude and disconcerting, and if he really wanted her why hadn’t he come back for her and...

  Then the reasons why she should interrupted. He was awfully cute when he was being apologetic. Beyond the fact that he’d run out on her, he didn’t really need to explain about the phone call or the friend, and she was dying to touch him, to feel the energy produced by her skin against his once more.

  “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” she began.

  She hadn’t extended her hand that far before he reached out the extra length and took her hand in his. “Because you know there’s something going on between us. Something you want to explore as much as I do.”

  “Akil, what I said before about not jumping into bed with just anybody is true.”

  “I know it is and despite what you might think, it’s true for me, too.”

  She chuckled. “Then we make some pair, huh?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I keep thinking. Listen, I cancelled recording for today. With the weather worsening I didn’t want the guys coming all the way out here and getting stuck.”

  He reached for his hot chocolate and took a sip. He didn’t drink coffee, said it made him too jumpy and he liked to always be alert. She thought the reason was more the fact that Mrs. Williamson made it herself with whole milk and three kinds of chocolate, topped off with whipped cream and chocolate shavings, but she didn’t dare say that to him.

  She was a tea drinker herself, green tea or black decaffeinated with honey tasted better to her and also massaged her vocal cords. Charlene was beginning to get used to the not-so-subtle mothering of Mrs. Williamson and the other household staff.

  “So what are we going to do today?” she asked, trying not to focus on the weather but instead on the platters Mrs. Williamson had already put on the table.

  He shrugged. “Figured we’d just hang out, watch some movies. I don’t get a lot of downtime. I should probably take advantage when I can.”

  “I agree. It doesn’t seem like you enjoy your success much.”

  Still rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand, he looked at her seriously. “I’m enjoying being with you.”

  Seconds ticked by and she was speechless. And just when she’d thought she could talk without blabbering she heard the click of heels on the tiled floor from the direction of the kitchen.

  Charlene silently cursed the end of her alone time with Akil. And from the look on his face he was doing the same thing.

  “Good morning, good people. Charlene, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Serene’s high-pitched voice was already talking the moment she stepped onto the terrace.

  “Darling,” she said, leaning over and kissing Akil on the cheek. He didn’t look too happy to see her.

  “Good morning, Serene.”

  “Look who I’ve brought with me,” she said with a flourish of her long, gold bangle–covered arm. “Carlo, you remember Akil. And this is Charlene Quinn—our next project.”

  Charlene didn’t like being referred to as a “project” but smiled through the discomfort and extended her hand to shake Carlo’s.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said, his fake gray eyes assessing her. “Stand up, dear.” He’d taken her hand and was stepping aside so she could stand.

  With a fleeting glance to Akil, who only nodded for her to comply, Charlene stood.

  Carlo was almost as tall as Serene, a rail-thin man with long arms and an even longer nose. He looked either Puerto Rican or Mexican, she couldn’t really tell, but his hair was slicked back with enough mousse or other hair product to shellac one of Akil’s hardwood floors. He held her arm up in the air and twirled her around.

  “Mmm. No. No. No.” He was grumbling and mumbling some other stuff that Charlene couldn’t understand before he finally let her arm down to her side.

  He stood in front of her then, one arm folded over his chest, the other propped up so that his hand rested on his chin. He wore skinny jeans that accentuated the fact that he was indeed skinny and a button-down striped shirt that made her dizzy if she stared at it for too long.

  “This is definitely no good,” he said, lifting the edge of her ruffled blouse, which she’d worn tucked into denim capris. “Ruffles are for little girls, which you definitely are not.”

  Charlene tried not to bristle at his comment. He was doing his job, she told herself. But then he touched her. His long pale fingers gripped her waist, just beneath her breastbone, moving around one way and then another.

  “This is the problem area. We’ve got to focus our work here. I think everything below this area we can work with. Pencil skirts, definitely. Leggings with long tops. Empire waists. Serene, are you writing this down?”

  A glance in her direction said she hadn’t been. She’d been too busy staring at Akil, who didn’t look thrilled with the situation. In that moment Charlene wondered what was really between the two of them. Because while from their first meeting Serene had been what she probably considered pleasant to Charlene, in the past couple of days in the studio Serene had hovered a lot closer to Akil. Charlene hadn’t yet figured out how she felt about that. No, that was wrong, she knew she didn’t like it. It was crazy, she had no reason feeling territorial about Akil. They were just working together, or more like cordial friends. Even though each time she saw him she desperately wanted another one of his soul-searing kisses, she couldn’t afford to fool herself into thinking they meant anything.

  “I’m getting it,” Serene said, hustling over to the table where she’d dropped her huge purse and pulling out a notepad and pen. “What do you think of the hair? I’m not really feeling it. A funky cut might work,” she suggested.

  Carlo was already shaking his head. “No. Won’t work. Too round of a face, not flattering.”

  Now at that, Charlene did bristle. “Now, wait just a minute,” she began to protest. At her sides her fists clenched but still they continued to talk. Maybe she should just be quiet, take the bitter with the sweet. After all, wasn’t this a part of the job? She’d known this would happen sooner or later. She’d just have to deal with it. Besides, Akil hadn’t said a word yet. Did that mean he was backing this little assessment of Carlo’s?

  Embarrassment bubbled inside her. She fought against the urge to turn and run from the room or grab one of these skinny idiots by the neck and squeeze. Akil had never looked at her like some of the men she met back home. He seemed to see past the physical to something else that she was beginning to think made him happy. Last night certainly should have proved that there was something about her body he liked. Now, with Carlo’s words, she wondered if that were truly the case.

  “We’ll keep it long, feather it. Maybe add some highlights. Definitely need to work on the makeup.” He lifted one of her arms, looked down at her nails. “I think two weeks at the spa will do. Thirty to fifty pounds off is our goal. By then she’ll be trimmer and we can get started on the clothes. What are we doing for choreography? PJ or Simon? Catsuits will work with thick belts at the waist just in case we can’t streamline all this right away.”

  Charlene had heard of the spa they were referring to; it was nestled in the pretty scenic city of Monterey in California. For a small fortune, celebrities could check in, receive a handful of laxatives on a daily basis and shed the pounds they needed to act in roles they were either too old or obviously too fat to play. Or, in her instance, to create an image that wasn’t her at all. That was the absolute last place she wanted to be. The thought alone made her nauseous.

  Then her head was swimming, her skin heated from the combination of rage and mortification. She took one retreating step and felt light-headed.

  “Hold still,” she heard Carlo say.

  “Copper highlights, you think?” Serene was saying.

  The room was spinning, the French toast and cottage cheese she’d taken only a few bites o
f for breakfast flip-flopping in her stomach, threatening to backtrack. Carlo was no longer touching her but his words vibrated in her ears. Her eyes blinked but she couldn’t see, everything had become blurry. She felt herself moving but couldn’t tell if she were backing up on her own or if the over-the-top Carlo and Serene were pushing her.

  “Enough!” Akil roared.

  Silence fell quickly, as if a stripper had waltzed into a church sanctuary with her pole in hand ready to dance.

  She felt a hand on her cheek. “Charlene, are you okay?”

  She heard his voice and instantly began to calm down. “I...I think I need to sit down.”

  “Take it easy,” he was saying, helping her to a chair and easing her down. Kneeling at her side, he took her hand and rubbed it gently. “Just breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

  He sounded so sure, so soothing, so she did as he said, breathing slowly in and out until her surroundings were much clearer.

  “With all due respect, Akil. This has to be taken care of. The Vibe Awards are only four weeks away. We have to get started now.” Serene was talking but Akil was still staring at her.

  “I know when Vibe is,” Akil said tightly.

  “Then you know we don’t have a lot of time to work with. And Carlo has other clients. We were lucky he could come by today. He’s on his way to New York to work with Fantasia tomorrow.”

  Through clenched teeth Akil said, “He can leave now.”

  “What?”

  Akil stood quickly, turning to face both Serene and Carlo. “Both of you can leave now. I don’t need your help.”

  Carlo fanned a hand in front of himself as if he were about to have a heatstroke or was highly offended. Serene ran to Akil’s side, lowering her voice as she said, “Akil, you know what has to be done. She’s going to be a lot of work. We talked about this already.”

  “Yeah, Serene.” Akil spoke loud enough for Charlene to hear him. “We did talk about this, on numerous occasions, and I thought I made myself perfectly clear. We’re not changing Charlene’s physical look. I told you maybe hair and makeup. Pick out a wardrobe that compliments, not exaggerates and not demeans. I want her image to project her as is. It’s the voice we want to focus on, the music, the sound that will be different. That will sell. All this other BS is for somebody else. Not her.”