Love in the Limelight: Volume One

by Brenda Jackson, A. C. Arthur

  She swallowed and put a hand to her chest. “I can’t visualize it,” she said slowly, then turned away.

  Coming up behind her, Akil placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s the matter, Charlene? Did I say something wrong?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s not you, it’s me.” Then she chuckled. “That sounds so cliché.”

  “Actually, it sounds like a lie.”

  She turned to face him. “Look, Akil, I just don’t want you to buy me that because then you’ll expect me to wear it.”

  He nodded. “You’re right, I would expect you to wear it. And I know you’ll look terrific in it.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  With a finger to her chin he lifted her face until she was looking directly into his eyes. “You look terrific absolutely naked. Adding this garment can only enhance that beauty. I don’t want you to be shy around me or nervous that I won’t like how you look. I’m telling you right now that I like everything about you, physical and mental. Okay?”

  No, it wasn’t okay, she thought with even more flames of embarrassment shooting through her body. Not to mention the instant arousal she always felt whenever he was touching her.

  “Baby girl?” he whispered, then leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you hear what I said?” He kissed both of her eyes, her cheeks, then finally her lips.

  She nodded. “I heard you.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  And she had to tell the truth. What one man thought of her shouldn’t have meant so much. She’d lived in this body with her feelings about it and her acceptance of it for far too long to still rely so heavily on words or opinions. Still, it felt good, it felt right. “Yes, Akil. I believe you.”

  “Good,” he said with one last smacking kiss on her lips. “We’re getting this red one and the black one. Now let’s see what else we can buy in this store today.”

  And just like that, their shopping spree continued. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, like they’d been together for months and months, they moved through the mall, laughing and window-shopping, purchasing and laughing some more. It was maybe one of the best times of Akil’s life.

  He only hoped it could last.

  Chapter 14

  Mrs. Williamson fixed a spectacular dinner of ham, homemade baked macaroni and cheese, collard greens and apple pie. Charlene ate a full plate with a smile on her face.

  Today had been perfect. Spending it entirely with Charlene, there was only one other thing that could top their day.

  Music.

  After dinner when she’d assumed they’d relax and prepare for bed he fooled her by going straight to the studio.

  “You want to work now?” she was asking from behind him. “Aren’t you tired?”

  He chuckled. “No. And you shouldn’t be. We didn’t walk that much.”

  “Oh, yeah, tell that to my aching feet. Well, at least my stomach’s full. But if you don’t mind I’ll just watch you work for a while.”

  “Whatever you want, baby girl.”

  Unable to keep his hands off her for long periods of time, Akil draped an arm over her shoulder as they went through the first door that led down a short hallway to another door. This second door was the soundproof entrance into the studio. Once inside they headed directly to the live room, where Charlene quickly pulled up a chair and sat down.

  “Did you take your medicine today?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied. “But I didn’t get much sleep last night. Remember?”

  He nodded. “That’s right, you were afraid of the wind and rain. Couldn’t sleep.”

  Just as he’d expected and wanted to see, she smiled. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”

  Today had been a first for him. He sensed it was because of the woman, because of what he knew he was beginning to feel for her. Those feelings unnerved him because he knew they were headed in a direction of uncharted territory. He didn’t fall in love with women, didn’t allow himself the time or the energy to do so. He had sex, that was natural, a need that required slaking from time to time. Anything beyond that was a hassle and a danger to the man he’d become.

  Switching on the power, he pulled up the recording he’d been aching to listen to all day. It was his favorite instrumental. He wanted to listen to it because lyrics had been bubbling around in his head all day long.

  “You really like that arrangement, don’t you?” Charlene asked from her seat a few feet away from him.

  He nodded. “It speaks to me.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  And he knew that she did. From the very first time that she’d listened to it he knew she’d felt it.

  “She’s afraid to give him her love,” Charlene began saying.

  “But she has so much love to give. He’d be honored to have it.”

  Charlene began to hum with the music, he suspected because she was so used to the melody by now.

  “And after all is said and done you’re mine,” she sang along with the rhythm that signaled the hook of the song was beginning.

  To his own surprise, and he was sure hers, too, Akil joined in. “You belong to me and I belong to you.”

  The fact that he could sing only startled her for a minute. Most producers were multitalented when it came to music. They could definitely carry a tune and in today’s market could most likely flow with the smooth ease of a practiced rapper. The music was in his mind, in his soul, the slick sound of his tenor voice said it reached a part of him that most singers only hoped for.

  “You belong to me and I happily belong to you,” she sang and closed her eyes, listening as the rhythm slowed again. “When I first met you I didn’t believe—didn’t want to consider the possibilities. But with the first touch, the first taste I was lost.”

  The lyrics just flowed and she sang. They were passing the time, letting their combined love of music entertain them for the evening. But when her eyes opened again it was to see Akil staring at her, a pencil in hand and piece of paper in front of him.

  “Go on,” he prompted when she stopped.

  “Oh, no, I was just thinking out loud. I didn’t mean—” she stammered.

  “It’s good. The lyrics are good. She was nervous about loving him in the beginning and then what?”

  “She,” not her, not Charlene. He wasn’t thinking about her when he thought of this song. That was her thought and she sighed. If she weren’t such a coward she’d just tell him that each time she heard this melody she thought of nothing but them. From that first night she’d heard it she’d felt his soul and hers in the very beat of the music. Last night they’d made love to this very rhythm in its extended version and then as it was stripped to one instrument at a time. The rhythm of their bodies matched this song from every up-tempo sweep to the straining piano solos.

  But Akil didn’t seem to know that.

  “What about him?” she asked.

  For a second he paused, then his head nodded in beat with the music. “Even I wasn’t convinced. Something was there but was it true? Could it be what I’ve always wanted but never really knew existed?”

  His voice sent chills down her spine, in a good way, of course. She felt the sincerity and wanted desperately to believe that it was coming from his heart and not just his creative mind.

  “Could she be the one for me? Does she know I desperately want her to be?”

  With that Charlene’s gaze locked with his and the next thing she knew she was standing, moving toward him. Her heart hammered in her chest, her mind screaming questions that her body refused to hear. Her actions were purely emotional, purely physical at this moment, and that’s just how she wanted them. To think about what she was doing, what she was risking, might cost her too much.

  Cupping Akil’s face in her hands, she stared deep into his eyes and sang with the hook once more, “You belong to me and I belong to you. You belong to me and I happily belong to you.”

&
nbsp; His hands had snaked up to her hips as she sang, his eyes shifting to that molten color, lust rising in him just as it was in her. But was that all? Not for her, she knew. For Akil, she could only hope.

  Lowering her head, she touched her lips to his. Tentatively at first, then with more pressure, more persistence. He obliged, matching her movements and coaxing her tongue to join in the mix. Before long she was straddling him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, his around her back, moving up and down, and they struggled to breathe without breaking the connection of their mouths.

  The music in the background was louder than last night but Charlene wasn’t really listening. She was feeling every trickle of heat, every massage of his hands. Her body was on fire with need, a scorching storm building inside waiting, aching for release.

  When she knew her lips were swollen from their kisses Akil stood, lifting her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a CD in its case. With one arm he pushed the pencil and paper on the control board aside before sitting her down.

  “You belong to me,” he sang, his fast-moving fingers going to the buckle of her jeans, pulling them apart and down.

  She shimmied out of them, heard the jeans and her shoes fall to the floor. Next went her shirt and her bra. Akil bent forward, kissed each nipple, all the while humming along with the music.

  Bracing herself back on her flattened palms, she offered herself to him, totally, completely. He was slow in removing her panties, his lyrics mumbled as he pulled them down her thighs with his teeth.

  Charlene was wet and trembling, her desire for Akil quick and potent. With strong hands he grasped her thighs and pushed them apart.

  “Could she be the one for me?” his voice sang and her body hummed along.

  With one arm extended he touched the tender moist folds of her center, his eyes fastened on hers. His other hand made quick work of his own buckle and he pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs. “Could this belong to me and only me?”

  That line shocked her, not just in the words but in the almost falsetto voice he’d used to sing them. At the sound her nipples tingled, her center clenching and juicing more along with his touch.

  When his first finger entered her she wanted to scream but bit her bottom lip instead.

  “Uh-uh, don’t hold it in,” he whispered, coming closer so that his thick erection brushed along her inner thigh teasingly. His lips were so close to hers, his warm breath fanned her face. “Nobody can hear you in here, baby girl. If this belongs to me,” he said, then traced a heated path from her cheek to her lips and sang, “Say my name. Sing your pleasure and say my name.”

  She could feel the broad head of his sex pressing past her swollen folds and scooted a little closer, eager for him.

  “Sing your pleasure,” he repeated as just the head pressed forward.

  Her body vibrated with anticipation and longing and she inhaled, exhaled.

  “Say my name.”

  And she did, in a long note held in A minor she sang his name so that there would be no question, no mystery, no denial. She was all his.

  As she sang, her voice meshing with his. Akil pushed deeper inside her, feeling his own body convulse with the pleasure. His strokes were slow, measured, but the feel of her lush breasts against his chest even through the material of his shirt was too arousing to keep up that motion. In no time he was thrusting deeply and quickly, loving the sound of their arousal combined with the music and their voices.

  Both of them were singing, gyrating, feeling, needing. It was like they were caught up in this funnel of emotion that was spun just for them. And as he felt himself nearing his climax her body shook against his.

  Her lyrics changed, slowed until it was if she were just whispering in his ear, her body still shaking from her release. “I think I’m in love with you.”

  With those words his own release came. In a rush of feeling from his scrotum bursting through his engorged head, he let go. Poured everything he had directly into her.

  The words tumbled out, as if they were expected—no, written in the lyrics of the song that Akil now knew belonged to them. “I think I’m in love with you, too.”

  * * *

  It was back to business on Monday when Charlene walked into the studio. Akil had gotten up a little earlier, going for a run. He’d whispered in her ear as she continued to sleep in his bed. More and more Charlene was beginning to feel that was exactly where she belonged.

  After their heated admissions about possibly being in love with each other she’d expected being together outside the bedroom would be awkward. The exact opposite had occurred. On Sunday Akil had been attentive, open about his past, his feelings, his future plans. It was perfect. So much so she was almost afraid to go back into the studio, to bring more people into their newfound bliss.

  “There you go,” Jason was saying, dropping an arm over Charlene’s shoulders. “How’d you handle the storm?”

  She must have looked a little startled at his question because then he said, “The hurricane? I see Viola did no damage to the house. Akil said you mostly had strong rain Friday night and most of Saturday morning. On Thursday you said you didn’t like storms.”

  Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten all about the hurricane. With an inner smile she wondered why. “I did fine. It wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated,” she said, trying to keep her gaze from Akil’s.

  He hadn’t looked at her, either. He was at the control board, his fingers moving over the buttons, adjusting the sound, getting everything prepared. He was in business mode, so she assumed she’d better do the same thing.

  “Listen, I’ve got some news. I was waiting until you came so I could tell you both together,” Jason said.

  Akil did look up then. “What news?”

  Jason was rubbing his long fingers together, his caramel-toned skin almost gleaming as he smiled. Whatever it was he had to say must be good. “Seven Nights, you know that new club down in South Beach?” he said to Akil.

  “Yeah? What about it?”

  “Well, the club’s promoter is dating my cousin. I saw him over the weekend at a family gathering and he mentioned they were looking for hot new talent to premiere at the club. Said the crowd on Friday nights is sick. They start packing in around nine. He wants acts to hit the stage around ten, ten-thirty. Like thirty-five grand per night,” Jason finished with a slap of his hands together. “What do you say?”

  Akil was already looking skeptical. “It’s not about the money,” he said first.

  “I know that, man. It’s the exposure. I think she’s ready.”

  Charlene had no idea what club they were talking about but she was focused on Akil, on his reaction to what Jason was saying.

  “It would be good exposure. Like a test run,” Akil added finally.

  Jason was nodding his agreement. “The buzz would already be underway before we even hit Vibe. It’s good, Ace. So you want me to call him?”

  Akil’s gaze finally found hers as he nodded. “Yeah. Call him, tell him we’ve got a hot new singer who will blow his mind.”

  “Somebody want to clue me in on what’s going on?” Charlene asked, not unnerved by Akil’s gaze as much as she was curious.

  “You’re performing at a club on Friday,” he said as simply as if he’d given her the time of day. “Get into the booth so we can go over what you’re going to sing.”

  And just like that the day s work began. Later, Charlene thought, she d have the meltdown about performing in public, but for right now, all she had to do was sing.

  Chapter 15

  “Were you busy?” Charlene asked Rachel, the cell phone pressed to her ear as she walked along the terrace.

  Jason and Five were still in the studio with Akil remixing one of the tracks they’d finally gotten recorded. It was almost midnight and Akil had come into the booth personally to tell her she was finished for the night.

  “You did good,” he’d said with a smile. But hadn’t touched her, hadn’t made a move remotely intima
te.

  Charlene had tried not to be hurt by the nonaction. She’d been trying all day long. Singing love songs when you’re about twelve feet away from the man you love and he’s acting like you’re just another employee isn’t exactly an ideal working condition. Still, the butterflies that seemed to have moved back into her stomach kept her plenty occupied in the meantime.

  Her first performance as Charlene Quinn, the singer, the R&B artist. She sighed.

  “No. What’s up? You don’t sound so good.”

  Taking a seat in one of the high-backed white chairs, she let her muscles relax even though her mind still reeled with all that had gone on in the past few weeks. The fast track to a singing career had been the furthest thing from Charlene’s mind, ever. And now here she was. To top it off she was in Miami, where the only people she knew she also worked for. Her friends, her family, were all on the West Coast.

  “I’m trying,” she said and knew it didn’t sound convincing.

  “Trying to what? Charlene, just tell me what’s wrong.”

  Now Rachel’s voice had hiked up a notch, which meant she was getting worried. Not Charlene’s plan.

  “I’m singing in a club on Friday. Akil and Jason think I’m ready.”

  “That’s fantastic! Your first performance,” she practically yelled and Charlene could tell she was smiling. “So wait, why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?”

  “Not necessarily a bad thing, but certainly a new thing.”

  “Well, that’s part of being an entertainer. You sing, record the CD then you go out to promote it. That’s how it works.”

  “Excuse me if I’m still trying to acclimate myself to this singing-as-a-career thing. It’s been barely a month and I’m already recording my first CD and performing in clubs. That’s not how it usually happens.”

  “But you’re not usual,” Rachel quipped.

  “Gee, thanks.” With two fingers Charlene rubbed her temple.