“Lie back,” he whispered when he knew she would continue stroking him.
She did as he asked and he climbed on the bed, using his knees to spread her legs wide. Touching two fingers to her already wet center he stifled a moan and looked into her face as he spread her juices over the latex. Her gaze followed his fingers. He swore he grew harder just knowing she watched so intently.
Slipping his arms under her knees, he lifted her legs until her feet were planted firmly on the bed. Reaching up, he grabbed one of the pillows from beside her head and tucked it securely under the base of her back.
He positioned the thick head of his arousal at her center, but looked up at her before pressing forward.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She looked momentarily perplexed. “For what?”
“For choosing me.”
As the soft smile touched her lips Akil pressed slowly inside her. Tight muscles gripped him just like her arms had wrapped around his neck. She pulled him in, deeper and deeper, until he felt like they’d been fused together.
Being inside her felt so good he had to grit his teeth. Then he kissed her lips, sucked her tongue into his mouth and moaned. “You taste good. You feel good. So damn good, baby girl.”
His kisses trailed down her neck, to her breasts, where he found a pert nipple and suckled like a baby. All the while his strokes grew deeper, her hips moved with his rhythm, music played in the background and for the first time in a long time, Akil also wanted to sing.
The emotion was dangerous; it was spreading in his chest like a cancer. He’d recognized it the moment he’d been alone with her. Had fought it like a boxer fighting for a title. But it wasn’t working. He was falling for her and falling fast.
She wouldn’t stay, he thought, even as his name again fell from her lips. She was grasping the sheets of the bed, thrashing against his brutally slow stroking. He liked it slow and deep, liked the feel of her muscles gripping him. He wouldn’t go faster, wouldn’t rush this moment.
Her hips moved, circled, jutted up to meet his stroke. To hurry him along. “Slow, baby girl. I like it nice and slow.”
“I can’t,” she whimpered, her head thrashing about the pillows.
“Shhhh,” he said, rising to her face, touching her lips with a light kiss. “You feel so good I don’t want to stop. I don’t want this to be over. Baby—”
His words drifted, his stroke deepened. He palmed her bottom, clutched the plush cheeks in his palm and thrust into her again and again. Her breasts moved with their motions, making his shaft harder, his arousal more intense. Her creamy thighs pillowed against his own and his spine tingled.
She watched him, watched them, her gaze sliding down to where they were joined. He pulled out slowly, let her look her fill. Then slid in with a little more speed, a lot more intensity and watched her eyes darken. Using his fingers he touched her plump lips, pulled them apart and slid inside of her once more. He liked to look himself, liked to see where their bodies met, joined, where he lost himself inside of her.
They both watched as the crescendo climbed. The storm outside raged a little harder, the wind rattling louder against the windows, the rain coming down in heavier sheets. The music had even changed, the song still instrumental but the tempo a little more fevered. His hips matched the moment, moving faster, riding on the impending waves of pleasure.
When he came, she came. When she came, she sang. When they both came, the music mixed with the storm. It was a symphony of pleasure, a composition of delight.
It was all he’d ever wanted.
All he ever needed.
And it was probably going to end.
Soon.
Chapter 13
Charlene had never been on the receiving end of oral sex. Until Akil.
She’d never showered with a man. Until Akil.
And she’d never in her wildest dreams thought she’d desire a man the way she did him. They’d rested for a few minutes after the intense round of sex. She’d almost called it something else but was too afraid to hope. Then he’d rolled over, chuckling and grabbing her up in his arms. They’d ended here in this shower stall built for about six people. There were benches along two of the walls and two shower heads. The blue marble reminded her of the ocean, the flecks of silver of the stars in the evening sky. It would have been relaxing if Akil weren’t in there with her, intent on bathing her.
“I’ve been bathing myself for quite some time,” she’d said, trying to move out of his grasp.
“Yeah, but this is much more fun.”
“No, really, I’d rather do it myself.”
He grabbed one of the arms she’d put up to ward him off, his look a little more serious. “Why? What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Okay, so you’re uncomfortable? Nervous? Why, after what we’ve just shared?”
A logical question, she thought. Unfortunately she didn’t have a logical answer. Her feelings just were. “I normally shower alone.”
He nodded. His skin looked like a root-beer soda, glossy, wet, tempting. His sex, even at half-mast, still very impressive. “So, I’m making you nervous by being in here with you, looking at you, wanting to touch you.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m just not used to it.”
“Okay. That’s fair.” He took a slow step toward her. “But listen to this, I like the way you look. I like the way you feel in my arms. You’re a strong, confident woman who can do anything she puts her mind to. I think you can shower with me and I think you can like it.”
She thought he was a damn good talker. Her heart warmed at his words and her body trembled at his glare. But old habits died hard.
“Take a deep breath and prepare yourself to be touched and looked at on a regular basis because I like it.”
“You can be quite cocky, Akil Hutton,” she said, silently admitting to herself that she did kind of enjoy him looking and touching.
He was up close now, pulling her arms from her chest, placing them at her sides. “I know, been like that since I was a kid.”
“Then I’ll bet you didn’t have a lot of friends.”
He was rubbing his fingers along the sides of her breasts. “Friends are overrated.”
“Just regular friends or girlfriends?”
He smiled, dipped his head down to run his tongue over her nipple. “You trying to ask if I’ve got a girlfriend, Charlene?”
“I’d like to think after what we just did and what you’re currently doing that the answer is no.”
He bit her nipple, then turned to adjust the spray of water. “I knew you were smart. Now can you wash my back.”
She couldn’t help but smile. This was the side of Akil she’d thought was there, lying just beneath the ruffled surface he displayed for everyone else. It was the part she wanted all to herself, she thought with a slap of honesty.
Reaching for the soap, she lathered it in her hands and proceeded to bathe him. Another first for her, but she was beginning to think that doing new things with this man wasn’t so bad at all.
* * *
“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up because enemies came easier.” Akil spoke into the darkness of his bedroom.
They’d finished their shower hours ago, the music had been turned off but the rain still beat against the windows. She was cuddled against him in his big bed, where they’d been lying just talking.
“I used to think the same thing,” she admitted.
“We lived in a corner house on one of the worst streets in the city. The sound of gunshots lulled me to sleep and the smell of crack being smoked through a pipe woke me up.”
She was quiet. Her childhood had been vastly different.
“I went to school every day, or at least tried to. Not too many kids on our block did. Their parents were too busy gettin’ high, sticking somebody up or pimpin’ their bodies for a hit to even care. But I knew i
t was my ticket out.”
“When did you get into music?”
He sighed. “I was always into music, or should I say music was always in me? My dad was a trumpet player before he got shot up for not paying his dealer. My moms, she was a singer. Great voice. Sometimes I still hear it. So I guess it’s in my blood.”
“That’s sad. I’m so sorry, Akil.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t put the drugs in his hand, make him get high or make him let my mother do the same.” She felt his shoulders shrug. “Anyway, I always knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to make music. So I went to school. I did what they told me to graduate. Then I stalked one of the reps at Empire until they gave me an internship. And now I’m here.”
“And now you’re only one of the five hottest producers on the scene. Very impressive.”
“Yeah, but I wish Lauren was with me.”
At the mention of a female’s name Charlene stiffened.
“No, it’s not like that. But I like that you’d get jealous so quick.” He kissed her forehead and she settled down.
“Lauren’s my younger sister. Younger by seven years. We have different fathers. Mine was dead and buried by the time my mother found Lauren’s. And Lauren was cutting her first tooth by the time hers disappeared.”
Wow, Charlene thought to herself, such sadness and despair all his life. No wonder he was cranky all the time.
“Lauren could sing. I mean really sing. You remind me a lot of her, your range and clarity. She was going to be big.”
“What happened to her?”
“Life happened, I guess. Lauren wanted to sing, she wanted to make it big, to have money and nice things. Since we didn’t have that growing up, it was like a lifeline to her. She was impatient, always had been. Impulsive and reckless. I tried to keep her on the right track, or at least that’s what I thought I was doing. When I went to work at Empire I kept her up-to-date on the trends on what they were looking for, but I wanted her to at least finish high school first. There’s nothing out here worth ditching your education for. Lauren disagreed.
“She latched on to some neighborhood rapper who’d just inked a deal with Sony. His records climbed the charts and he kept Lauren on his arm. Overnight she went from a high school student with a smart-ass mouth to a certified rapper’s girl with shiny cars, lots of bling and scanty clothes. Darian ‘MacD’ Jackson was going to put her on to a record deal, just as soon as he got established. But the more money he made the less time he had to work on her career. He wanted her right where she was, under his thumb. I tried to talk to her and she kicked me out of her apartment, said I was jealous, trying to bring her down. I shrugged it off, left her to make and clean up her own mess.”
This sigh was deep and full of what Charlene could tell was regret.
“Six months later I heard she was getting high. I tracked her and MacD down in L.A. and could see for myself that she was heading down the same path as our parents. I begged her to come with me, to come home with me.” His voice cracked.
Charlene ached for him. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him tightly.
“That was eight years ago. I haven’t spoken to her since. She’s been in and out of rehabs. Every time I try to get in touch she pushes me away. I don’t know if I’m gonna try again.”
“You will,” she whispered. “You will because you love her and you want what’s best for her. She’s sick, Akil. You can’t take anything she says seriously.”
“I know all that. I try to convince myself of that every day. But it’s all so textbook, so predictable. The child following in the parents’ footsteps. But I didn’t,” he said adamantly. “I didn’t. I wanted more and I got it.”
“Yes, you did. There are more like you, only the statistics don’t show the success stories.”
“But what if more isn’t enough, Charlene? What if everything I obtained isn’t enough?”
She didn’t know the answer to that, didn’t really know what he was asking her. So instead of commenting she just held on to him, reaching up and kissing his lips lightly. “You’re enough for me,” she said and kissed him again.
His arms wrapped around her. He pulled her on top of him and words were no longer necessary.
* * *
He had to be kidding. There was no way they were heading to a shopping mall the day after a hurricane had ravaged the city.
“It’s the best time to shop because people whose homes were hit are busy cleaning up. The malls aren’t crowded,” he’d told her as they climbed in the back of the limousine.
She could relate to what he was saying but thought it might have been a little insensitive. That probably wasn’t Akil’s intent, just his rationale. He could be very blunt, brutally honest and sometimes a bit unsympathetic, she’d come to realize in the weeks of spending time with him. But after hearing about his childhood, she couldn’t really blame him. She didn’t show him pity when he talked about his past, didn’t mention how sorry she was for the boy who was forced to grow up too soon and for all the love he’d lost on the way. All through her own childhood she’d felt like an outcast, like the Lord surely had dropped her into the wrong family. But for all that her mother wanted to change her and her father working so much he barely knew what was going on in the household and her sister was traveling so much she rarely got to see her, Charlene always knew that she was loved. No matter what, she knew that at least one weekend out of the month she’d be in a room with both her parents and her sister and for at least a few moments they’d be together sharing a smile, a meal, a laugh, making a memory.
It took her a moment to realize Akil was already pulling her in the direction of Saks Fifth Avenue. The sign out front, just between tall looming palm trees, a koi fishpond full of beautiful koi and flowers, read the Bal Harbour Shops. Because shopping wasn’t one of her favorite pastimes she couldn’t say she’d ever been here. Akil, on the other hand, looked as if he knew his way around this mall and was headed directly where he wanted to be.
Once in the store he looked toward the women’s section, to which she’d quickly replied, “This is your shopping spree, not mine.”
He only laughed, held her hand a little tighter in his own and moved to the men’s section. He took his time, she thought as she watched him go from rack to rack of jeans. In his mind he probably had an idea of what he wanted and he wasn’t going to be pleased until he found it. That’s sort of the way he worked in the studio, pushing until the sound was just right. She found she admired that about him.
“Try these on,” she heard herself saying as she scooped a pair of pants from the rack and handed them to him.
He looked a little skeptical but reached for them. Taking a look at the size tag he glanced back up at her. “How do you know what size I wear? Have you been sneaking into my closet?” he asked in a tone that was obviously teasing.
Sleeping with him last night had translated to him moving all her stuff from the guest room to his. “You didn’t leave me any space to hang my clothes so I had to move some of yours around. And let me say you have just as many clothes as the women I know combined.”
He smiled. “I like to look good.”
“Just try the pants on.”
“Don’t try to get me in those skinny jeans I see guys wearing now. That’s not going to work with me.”
“Yuck, no, I don’t think that should work for any man. All these are regular bootcut,” she told him, handing him yet another pair of jeans, this time darker than the ones he already had thrown over his arm.
An hour and five pairs of jeans—including the two pairs she’d selected—three dress shirts and a couple of jogging suits later they were headed to the women’s department.
“I don’t need anything,” she said instantly.
“I didn’t ask if you did.”
“Then I don’t want anything.”
“I didn’t ask you that, either.”
She sent him a smoldering look at that remark, but he ignored her and kept mov
ing toward the other side of the store. Where he finally stopped had her both gasping and turning to walk away.
Akil grabbed her by both elbows, turning her back around. “Come on, it’s your turn.”
“I told you I didn’t need anything,” she said, hastily looking around. “And I definitely don’t need anything from this department.”
Heat fused the back of her neck and freckled her cheeks as she stood in the middle of two aisles full of lingerie. From long silky nightgowns to skimpy little teddies to what looked like a bunch of straps and strings arranged neatly on a hanger, this was so out of her element. While she’d enjoyed shopping with Akil for himself, this was a little more personal than she’d ever imagined he’d want to do for or with her.
“I like this.” He held up a black nightie that would probably stop along the middle part of her thigh. It wasn’t bad-looking, it just wasn’t for her.
She shook her head negatively. Akil simply tossed the garment into the shopping bag with the rest of his soon-to-be purchases. “Ooh, and this one is a definite,” he was saying.
He’d left her in the first aisle and was now a short distance from her, picking up something else. Charlene raced around to the other aisle to see what he’d picked up this time. “No, Akil. Absolutely not!” she said, her voice elevated a bit. Looking around, she took a step closer to him and reached for the ruby-red sheer item he held.
Of course he held his arm up higher, keeping the piece out of her reach. “Are you kidding me? This is hot! I can visualize you in it now.”
She made another reach for it but he simply took a step back. “No. No. No. Don’t you visualize anything.”
But when she looked at him she could tell he was doing just that. His eyes had grown darker and his tongue was stroking his lower lip.
“Akil, I’m not playing.”
“C’mon, baby girl. You can see it, too,” he said, holding the nightie in front of her.
Reluctantly Charlene looked down. It was sexy, she’d say that much. What she’d seen that was sheer was a jacket held together by one thin silk red string. Beneath it was what looked like a high-waisted one-piece bathing suit. It was strapless and of course red satin, with laces going from the breast cups down right to the crotch.
Love in the Limelight: Volume One Page 25