Overtime for Love

by Synithia Williams

  His head jerked. That wasn’t what he was like. “I don’t want that.”

  “Yes you do, even if you don’t see it. You’re old-fashioned that way. Just like your dad. You want to take care of things, solve everyone’s problems. You’ll want a woman who’ll rely on you. I’m not that woman. I never will be.”

  “I never asked you to rely on me.”

  “But you always swept in to take care of my problems. Maybe that’s the other reason I stuck around.”

  “You used me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly call it being used when you were so quick to step in before I could even fix the problem. Remember when my car broke down? I just mentioned it in passing and the next day, there was a mechanic at my door. That’s just you, Isaiah. I’ll admit it’s sweet, but it’s also proof that you’re a fixer. I think it would have eventually broken us... If this woman hadn’t broken us first.”

  “She didn’t break us. Apparently we were already broken.” He ran a hand over his face. His mind whirled with all the things she’d thrown at him. Regret over hurting her came to the forefront. “Bridget, I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. That wasn’t my intention. I really thought we’d make things work one day.”

  “I know you mean that. Honestly, a part of me wonders if this is just another phase we’re going through. Go on, have your fun with her. Let me get settled in and then maybe we can try again.”

  “That’s not what I’m going to do,” he said in an exasperated tone. “I’m not playing with her.”

  Her smile was sweet and sarcastic. “You really believe that, don’t you? I’ll be curious to see how long that lasts.” She cocked her head to the side and considered him. After a second, she nodded. “I’ve waited this long, and I do need to get settled in. I’ll give you six months to get her out of your system. I won’t promise to wait around for you, but I’m willing to consider a retry after six months.”

  She was really dismissing what he had to say.

  “Don’t wait. We’re through.” He meant it. No matter what happened with Angela, he knew he couldn’t be with Bridget. He’d felt the fire and spark he should feel with a woman; he’d never be able to go back to the safe and convenient relationship he’d had with Bridget. He wanted more from life than bland and boring.

  She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “That’s cute.” She walked past him toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Isaiah.”

  Isaiah left without another word. A part of him hated the way things had ended. He’d never meant to hurt her. He doubted Bridget was in love with him, but her reaction today said she still cared deeply. For that, he would always be sorry. He didn’t regret making the break. Another revelation from their conversation was that keeping this going was unfair to both of them. He was ready to do what felt right, not what was expected. Despite Bridget’s low expectations, expectations he was sure his family would agree with once they found out, being with Angela felt right. He took a deep, freeing breath. Consequences be damned.

  Chapter 13

  Angela put another half-dozen drinks on the bar for Star, one of the waitresses at Sweethearts. Star squeezed through the crowd at the club, elbowing a few people out of the way to retrieve them.

  Someone pushed her back and Star rolled her eyes. “Tonight is crazy. Thanks so much for having these ready, Angel. The guys in my section are going straight fool.”

  Angela smiled at Star and got started on the next drink order. They had an appearance by a well-known erotic movie star tonight, so the place was packed. “I’m pouring almost as fast as you all are ordering.”

  The sea of people parted and her boss, Z, walked up. Z was a big man, so most people got out of his way. His light brown skin glowed in the dim lights of the club, but he still wore dark shades and an all-black suit that made him look part gangster, part lethal businessman. Despite looking as if he’d kill you if you stepped on his new shoes, Z was a nice guy. He didn’t allow the customers to abuse the women who worked at the club, accommodated any employees who had kids and never once caved to the frequent requests from customers to get a little more than a lap dance.

  “Yo, Angel, we’ve got a big group coming to the VIP. I want you to only work on those drinks,” Z said in a deep, rumbling New York accent that cut through the music and cheers. He glanced at Diamond and Candy, the other bartenders. “You two handle the regular drinks. Don’t let anyone wait for liquor, understand?”

  The ladies all nodded. Angela barely suppressed her groan. Just serving VIP wasn’t going to lighten her load. Men in VIP drank more and typically wanted their drinks yesterday.

  “Who’s in VIP, Z?” Angela called over the music.

  “A bunch of ballers from the Gators. The usual fellas. Make sure you stay on those drinks.”

  Z walked away from the bar to walk through the crowd and check for any issues. Angela tried to ignore the quick beating of her heart. Members of the team came to Sweethearts often, but Isaiah wasn’t typically part of the group. He’d only come in that night after they won the playoffs. She shouldn’t get excited. They’d agreed to stay away from each other, and true to her word, she’d avoided him the rest of the week when she picked up Cory.

  The increased buzz of excitement near the door announced the arrival of the players. Despite herself, Angela stood up on her toes to try and see over the crowd. She was ridiculous. Pour the drinks and forget about Isaiah.

  She was about to look away when her eyes caught his. Her hand slipped and she nearly dropped the bottle of Patrón. Z was nice, but he’d have been pissed if she’d broken it. Her heart jumped. The corner of Isaiah’s mouth tipped up in a smile. She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning. He was here.

  Angela quickly looked away. She was not becoming his side chick. Nor was she going to demand he break up with the woman he’d been with off and on since college. She had no business getting all giddy because Isaiah was in her club.

  She helped Diamond and Candy get ready to handle the floor before the drink orders came in from VIP. In the background she low-key watched the basketball players moving to their partitioned-off area. The first round of drink orders came two minutes after they were settled. She was working on that when the crowd parted, and suddenly Isaiah stood at the bar.

  He was wearing a simple beige button-up and dark pants. When he leaned on the bar, the muscles in his arms flexed, begging her to touch and reminding her of the strength she’d felt the one time he’d held her. When they’d kissed. He watched her with a gleam in his eye that made her breasts heavy and her knees weak.

  Angela walked over and placed her hands on the smooth surface of the bar, cocking her head to the side. “What are you doing here?”

  His dark gaze moved to the sparkling wings on her back, then over her tight white tank top and short black skirt. “Kevin invited me.”

  Her nipples tightened when his gaze lingered on the heart charm resting right above her cleavage. Her thin bra and shirt wouldn’t hide her response. “Can I get you a drink?” The noise in the club might hide the slight tremor in her voice.

  “You look good.”

  She was told that all night, every night, but still her cheeks heated. She bit back another grin. Why was he here? She could ignore what she felt a lot easier when he wasn’t standing in front of her. “I thought we were staying away from each other.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. Tension took over his shoulders. “I’m not with Bridget anymore.”

  The pounding of her heart increased to jackhammer proportions. Was she the reason? If she was, did it matter? He’d been with Bridget for years; now she was supposed to believe he was ready to give all that up for her?

  She shrugged. “Am I supposed to care?” Points to her for sounding like she didn’t when, despite her concerns, anticipation flooded her system.

  His dark eye
s met hers. Searched hers for something. “I’d like to think you cared.”

  “Isaiah Reynolds, wow, man, can I get your autograph?” one of the guys at the bar asked.

  Angela accepted the interruption for what it was—an escape. She’d been a second away from saying she did care. Crap. What the hell did this mean? Was he free? Did he want to be with her?

  One eager fan became a few others and soon Isaiah was thoroughly distracted. Angela focused on making the drinks for VIP before Z came over to ask what the holdup was.

  A guy in her periphery waved a hand. She turned to get his order and froze. “Jerry?” Her stomach twisted.

  Jerry, who couldn’t handle his volunteers, from the office. Her face ached with the effort it took to smile. In the years she’d worked as an advocate, no one from the office had ever come into the club. She’d gotten complacent and stopped looking over her shoulder. She wasn’t ashamed, but if Mr. Cooper found out, he’d use this as another example of her lack of commitment.

  “Angela? I thought that was you.” Jerry licked his lips as he looked her up and down. “What are you doing?”

  “Serving drinks.” Angela turned back to the printer and pulled out the next order of drinks from VIP. “What are you doing here?”

  Dread coated every nerve. Jerry wasn’t only known for not being able to keep a handle on his volunteers, he also liked to stir up trouble in the office. There was no way he would walk out of here pretending he hadn’t seen her.

  “Serving drinks?” Jerry asked in disbelief. “That all you’re serving?” He gawked at her chest. “Damn, girl. How much for a dance from you?” His friend chuckled.

  Angela put her drinks on a tray with enough force to spill a few. Damn! Could tonight get worse? “I don’t dance. Do you want a drink? Candy and Diamond can help you.” She pointed to the other women. Though, from the red rims around his eyes and slight slur in his voice he probably didn’t need another drink.

  Jerry rubbed his hands together. “Not even a dance for my friend’s birthday?”

  “I don’t dance. Now order or move on.”

  “Nah. I want to know why you act like you’re too good to go out with me, but you’re in here with all your goodies on display?”

  Angela put a hand on her hip and glared at Jerry. Really? He had to be going back two years. She’d forgotten he’d even asked her out once upon a time. “It doesn’t matter where I work or what I put on display. I don’t have to go out with you.”

  Jerry’s friend laughed again. Jerry’s hands balled into fists and he scowled. “You aren’t too good for me.” He pulled cash out of his pocket and threw a few bills at her. “How much before you take off that top?”

  Isaiah was instantly next to Jerry. He towered over the smaller man, his face hard and eyes angry. “Leave her alone.”

  Jerry didn’t even look to see who stood beside him, he just continued to leer at Angela. “Why? That’s what she’s here for. How much?”

  Angela fought back the urge to glare at Isaiah. She didn’t need him to step in on her behalf. She could take care of herself. “I wouldn’t flash you for a million. Get out of my face, Jerry.”

  “You slu—” Jerry leaned over the counter.

  Isaiah grabbed Jerry’s shoulder and spun him around. Grabbing Jerry by the shirt, he hauled him up. “Call her a slut. I dare you.”

  “Isaiah, stop! He’s drunk. I got this.” Angela rushed out from behind the bar. The wings on her back snagged on a few patrons in her rush to get between the two mismatched men.

  Jerry raised his arms in defeat. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

  Angela tried to pull Isaiah off him, but his hard arms wouldn’t budge. “Stop this.”

  Isaiah ignored her. “Apologize.”

  Cameras flashed while patrons watched. Damn! This was going from bad to worse. “Not necessary. Will you stop this?” She pulled on Isaiah’s arm again.

  The people parted and Z was making his way over. Even with his shades, she could feel his stare. He hated altercations in his club.

  “All right, I’m sorry,” Jerry squeaked.

  A few other Gators members materialized at Isaiah’s side. His glare didn’t lessen. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “I’m sorry, Angela. I didn’t mean any harm.”

  Isaiah pushed him back. Jerry stumbled into his friend. Z approached and looked between the two. “Is there a problem here?”

  Isaiah shook his head. “None at all.”

  Jerry hurried away from the bar, though not before Angela caught one last sneer directed at her. Her body trembled with anger and embarrassment. She didn’t need a white knight coming in to save her. She’d handled men much worse than Jerry in her years working here. “Z, I need a break.”

  His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Five minutes. I’ve got the bar.”

  He knew she’d take ten. Isaiah touched her arm. She pushed him off and then squeezed through the crowd to the back. If she spoke to him, she’d curse him out in front of everyone. She didn’t need him coming in to rescue her. She pushed through the double doors to the back hall, where the dressing rooms and Z’s office were located.

  The doors opened and closed again right behind her. She didn’t have to guess who that was. She’d felt Isaiah’s presence behind her as she stalked away from the bar. “I didn’t need your help,” she snapped over her shoulder.

  “You wanted me to let him talk to you like that?” was his disbelieving reply.

  Angela spun to face him, then stumbled back. He was directly behind her and she almost bumped into his chest. Anger and worry flashed in his dark eyes. Tension radiated off the muscles of his body. She could feel his emotions almost like a touch. She sucked in a breath and the smell of his cologne mixed desire with her own anger.

  She glanced down the hall, thankfully empty at the moment, most of the dancers on the floor with such a large crowd. She opened a door to Bruno’s office. The bouncer was also on the floor so she wouldn’t have to worry about interruptions for a few minutes. Isaiah followed her in. She closed the door and glared at him.

  “You aren’t my man.” Her voice trembled. “You can’t come in here and act like I’m your woman.”

  “I can’t just sit by and let someone talk to you like that. I wanted to help.”

  “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Your help only makes things worse.”

  Confusion covered his handsome face. “How?”

  “I don’t want you to lay claim on me when you’re not free to do so. Don’t step in and try to fix things for me when we both know you can’t.”

  She snapped her mouth shut. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths. That was the problem. She could take care of herself, but a small part of her had liked it when he’d defended her. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone, much less a guy, had stood up for her. She never wanted to be defended or shielded. She’d done all of that on her own. And enjoying his protection would only hurt more when he eventually went back to his superstar life and the woman he’d clung to for years.

  Isaiah stepped forward. Angela backed up until her wings were crushed against the door. He pressed a hand on the door over her. “I’m free to do whatever I damn well choose. I told you Bridget and I are through.”

  “For how long?”

  “For good.”

  “I didn’t ask you to leave her.”

  “I couldn’t stay with her knowing how I feel about you.” His gaze devoured her. “Why are you still fighting this?”

  She opened her mouth to say something noble, like honor, independence or integrity. His head lowered and her arguments faded to nothing. His body was a solid wall of firm muscle and masculine heat. The scent of his cologne was pure intoxication. He kept one hand on the wall, the other ran down her back, cupped her butt and
pulled her flush against his body. Angela moaned. Her hands gripped his hips and held him close. The heat of his passion burned through her anger and ignited the fire she’d been craving since that first time they’d met.

  The kiss started hard and heavy, then slowed into a teasing seduction that had her soaking wet and aching. His lips and tongue slid over hers so thoroughly she could only whimper and lean in for more. She wanted—no, she needed more. Needed to rip off his clothes and feel his skin against hers.

  Isaiah’s hand caressed the length of her side down to the softness of her behind, then lifted one of her legs. The tips of his fingers brushed the underside of her thigh just below the hem of her short skirt. His hips pushed forward, bringing the full contact of his thick erection to the sweet heat between her thighs. Angela gasped. He repeated the move and her low moan filled the small office.

  He lifted his head and met her gaze. The question in his eye was heightened by the slow creep of his fingers up her thigh toward her heated flesh. If he didn’t touch her, she’d scream. She widened her legs. Surprise brightened his eyes. Then the dark flash of desire took over. Isaiah boldly caressed the sensitive sweetness of her sex through the lacy triangle of her thong.

  Angela’s lids drooped. Her head fell back. Warm lips pressed against her neck. His teeth nipped lightly, then his tongue soothed the slight pain. He was killing her with the slow steady strokes, driving her heart to its limit, taking her body on an erotic trip. She rotated her hips, bringing her fully against his fingers. Fingers weren’t enough.

  Angela jerked open his pants, her own fingers wrapping around him. Damn he was big. Isaiah groaned low and deep, then kissed her with an urgency that made her stroke him harder. Somewhere, in the very far back of her mind, she registered that this wasn’t the right time, or the right place, but then his fingers pushed into her core and her mind surrendered.

  Isaiah’s other hand flew to his back pocket and produced a condom. Again the idea that maybe this was too soon popped in, but when he kissed her and his erection flexed in her palm, she didn’t give a damn. His hands left her sex only to cover himself, then he bent and lifted her against the door. His mouth covered hers in a kiss so passionate it robbed her of everything but the ability to feel, to be in this exact moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs cinched his waist, holding him tight. Isaiah dipped low, his hand positioned, and he straightened and filled her inch by thick inch.