“I’m taking you to my place.”
Carmela wiggled her eyebrows to lighten the mood.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m on the clock.” He leaned over the console smacking a loud kiss on her lips.
“Kisses are not allowed on the clock.”
“Oh…” he mocked shock. “My bad. I guess I’ll clock out and get my fill until we get to my place.”
And he did. Jamal stole kissed the entire ride to his hotel, up the elevator, and through the door of his presidential suite.
“This is amazing.” Carmela struggled to keep her mouth closed.
“Is this your first time here?” Jamal said unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.
“Yes. This place is massive.”
“Eliana booked it. Let me change.” He kissed her then turned to leave. “The menu is near the phone order something if you’d like.”
Carmela entertained herself with walking around the plush suite. Everything about the furniture, the drapes, the decor screamed rich. Curious she opened the menu. Fifty dollar chicken wings. She snapped it closed.
Carmela heard the shower turn on and spotted a laptop on the desk. The thought of using it crossed her mind, but she decided to wait. She’d use her cellphone instead.
Dropping to the couch, she typed in Jamal Washington. The hits came through and she scrolled the headlines. The most recent articles were connected with Rockstar Entertainment. Then she reached another dating back several years. The partners of RSE were interviewed for an Atlanta newspaper.
Carmela skimmed until she reached the section on Jamal and the first sentence punched her in the gut. “Billionaire mogul Jamal Washington started his life in a Detroit group home.”
“La, did you hear me?”
Carmela jumped dropping her phone. “I’m sorry what did you say?” She bent over chasing after her tumbling phone.
Jamal stopped it and glanced at the screen. His expression hardened for a moment before he handed the phone back. Before her stood Jamal from their picnic in a t-shirt and sweats.
This Jamal should appear more approachable, more her lane. But the fire in his eyes made Carmela want to hightail it home. Instead she sat back letting her eyes roamed his body, across the mass of his broad chest, down his shoulders to his cut muscles in his arms stretching the jersey fabric of his t-shirt. She thought about his boxing comment. Her eyes darted to his knuckled. Jamal was boxer.
“Are you ready Carmela?”
“For what Jamal?” Her eyes found his.
Jamal looked her over seductively. “This and that, I supposed.”
“No sir. I need you to be more specific than that.” He smiled and heat curled down her spine. The man was beautiful, and all mine, her heart whispered.
“Not yet Sweetheart.”
Apparently she wasn’t the only mind reader. “When?”
“Soon.” Jamal held her eyes and her heart nearly stopped.
Carmela struggled to steady her breathing as Jamal sat on the couch next to her filling her nose with the fresh scent from his shower.
“Are you on the clock yet?” Carmela glanced over her shoulder at his profile.
“Not yet.”
“Good.” She climbed over him straddling his lap. Those large hands of his glided over her hips and gripped her bottom pulling her heat against his. The tips of his fingers kneading her sore muscles. She moaned.
“Feels good?” She nodded, her eyes rolling closed. “I have some ground rules.”
“Jamal, how can you think about rules, right now?”
“Because I’m hard as a rock.” He thrust and she arched her back catching the motion. “Clothes stay on.”
“Why?” Her heart hammered in her chest.
“Sweetheart, don’t give me that look.” He nibbled on her bottom lip. “I want nothing more than to be inside you. But we can’t.” The longing in his eyes told Carmela it was killing him too.
“Is it possible that I could change your mind?” She brushed the tip of his head and he groan wrapping her hands behind her back.
“Your sweet little hands are trouble.”
“I have a suitable alternative.” Carmela smiled rocking her body against his. The thought of this beautiful man wanting her as much as she wanted him ignited raw need.
“I’m listening.” He lift the hem of her crop exposing the tops of her breasts. Using his free hand Jamal teased her nipples through the thin fabric, smiling with pleasure as her buds hardened. He returned his attention to her. “Kiss me.”
Carmela heard the words but they didn’t register as the friction between their bodies kindled a fire between her thighs. He squeezed her breast flicking his thumb over her nipple and the sensation made her hunger for him.
“Not until you release my hands.”
Raw need passed between them and she wanted to touch his body the way he was touching hers.
“Fair is only fair.” She added.
“Are you telling me no Carmela?” He growled, his eyes held hers.
Carmela studied his face wondering how far she could push him. Jamal had showed nothing but composure. He’d been a perfect gentleman. But his gaze was mad with lust and she wanted a sample.
She lowered her mouth inches from his flicking her tongue across his lips. He leaned forward to kiss her and she pulled back.
“I want to touch you.” Heavy breathing echoed in the room.
“Baby, this ain’t a fight you want.” His mouth kissed from one side of her chest to the other, playing and teasing her nipples, while grinding against her core. Of all the fights she’d had today, she wanted this one. And she wanted him.
“Try me.” She challenged.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
In a split second Carmela was on her back against the couch with her arms pinned above her head. A purely man smirk crossed Jamal’s face and his hand wiggled past her waistband stroking the fire he started. The fire threatening to explode. Then he slipped past her panties.
“Jamal….” Her words died, morphing into moans. She gasped, bucking against his thrust of his hand, surrendering to the pleasure he freely offered, until her crazy, mixed up world began to shatter.
Pleasure shot through her body, radiating from the source of his wicked hand, sizzling through her veins, as she screamed his name. Every nerve ending quivered in her body.
Jamal flipped them over, holding her close to his chest. Carmela slumped against him, the physical release paired with the long day overtook her. Her eyes fought to remain open.
“Sleep sweetheart, I got you.”
Chapter 16
Jamal held her while she slept. He almost broke his own rule. Hearing her scream his name made him ache to be inside her. But he couldn’t have her until he got his feelings in check. The taste of her sweet skin lingered on his lips and he now knew how his boys could lose themselves in a woman.
Jamal brushed a loc from Carmela’s face. The picture did her no justice, how she managed to hold a Texas-size heart in her little body defied logic. But he wanted her. All of her.
That haunting thought made him want to gas up the corporate jet and fly faraway to anywhere but here in this vulnerable place. A place he knew could result in nothing but hurt feeling and broken promises. Because sex with Carmela wouldn’t be just sex.
“Get it together,” he groaned.
“Wanna talk about it?” She rested her chin on her hand. Her eyes searching the darkness of his soul.
“What do you see when you look at me like that?”
“Fear.” He glanced away and with a gentle hand she brought him back to her. “We all fear something. It doesn’t make us any worse or any better than the next person. It’s life.”
“What do you fear?”
“Failing my family. Sonje lapli ki leve mayi ou.” Carmela gasped. Her fingers feathered over her lips as if trying to capture the words.
“What does it mean La?”
“Something about you keeps reminding me of my m
other and the oddest sayings.” She cleared her throat, glancing at him through unshed tears. “It means, remember the rain that made your corn grow.”
“She loved saying about rain.” He recalled the last one about holes in the roof.
Carmela laughed. “I guess so.”
“What does that mean to you?”
“I don’t know. I guess it makes me think of her, of course.” She leaned back against the couch cushion. “Losing her was the worse time in my life. I think this would have to be a close second.” Her eyes glossed over as if searching the darkness for more. “I miss her. And I was old enough to remember her, yet too young to appreciate all she was trying to teach me.”
Jamal wished he had memories of a mother and father. It was hard to have closure with so many unanswered questions. He had to trust that he had all he needed to succeed in life. That he lacked nothing, even though he often felt alone in a world of billions. Except right now.
“What about you?” Carmela kissed him.
Jamal glanced at her and a thought hit him like a mack truck. He closed his eyes internally searching his body from head to toe and he found nothing. He had no trace of that ever present ache. He opened his eyes finding her penetrating gaze.
“I think you’re casting a spell over me.”
“Here I was thinking the same thing.” She chuckled. “I thought it was your wicked hand game.”
Jamal died. “Woman you have no pause.”
Carmela laughed with him. “I told you I was raised with wolves.”
“I need you get you around my people to soften you up a little.” He grabbed her ass giving it a good size. “Speaking of my people. Come to Houston with me.”
“Houston? For what? When? Wait, I can’t. I have three shows. And I signed a contract today for ten more.”
“You did what?”
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you. But today Richard agreed to help with your evaluation if I signed a contract for ten more shows.”
“What type of contract?” Jamal struggled to keep his tone level and not judge Richard before hearing the entire story.
“I didn’t read it.” She shrugged.
“Why would you sign a contract without reading it?” Jamal sat up, taking her with him.
“Richard is my father. I trust him.”
Jamal gave her a sideways glance. Not sure how to approach the whole Richard and Marcel situation. “What about your checks? Do you sign your checks?”
She shook her head. Which he figured since she questioned the misappropriation of the fan-funding campaign deposit.
“What is it Jamal? Your expression is scaring me.”
“La, I don’t know how to talk to you about this knowing the people involved are your family members.”
“Tell me straight up. I can’t fix what I don’t know.”
“Why did you decide to reach out to RSE?”
“We did a fan funding campaign to get a building for Crescendo since renting a building large enough was out of our reach.” Carmela turned facing him. “Gabriel and I thought the fans would love to help us.”
“So, how does the process work?”
“We estimated the cost of leasing a building for five years. Then we added a little to cover additional expenses for a year. Our funding goal was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“That is a large goal.”
“It was. But I needed to cover our largest bill. And I knew I could perform to handle the monthly overhead.”
“What about the board and fundraising?”
“We had no issues with grants and community support until after Katrina. Everyone needed funding. Our grants got smaller and smaller and the cost of rent skyrocketed. Eventually we had to close our doors.”
“Sorry about that La.” Jamal pulled her to his chest, loving the feel of her next to him.
“Yeah me too.”
“How did you get from a quarter of a million to half a million dollars?”
“That was the fans. We told them every show and it grew like wildfire. Then Gabriel added the exclusive EP to fans backing the campaign.”
“With all new content?”
“Yes, and I would never release it as an EP. I’d perform it at shows, but not release it to the public.”
“Smart.”
“That was all Gabriel and the fans ate it up.” She chuckled. “It was like a forest fire, one minute we had two hundred thousand, then three, then five. And like that,” she snapped, “we hit a million.”
“So, why am I here?”
This was the crux of the issue. He couldn’t help her without fully understanding how she got here and hearing for himself what she expected from RSE.
“I guess it started with the fees.” Carmela swiped her hand back and forth, “I take that back. When we changed the goal from renting a facility to building a facility.”
“Who is we?”
“We was Richard. He decided to change from the ballpark five grand monthly expense of a building to constructing a new facility.”
Jamal let her words sink in, and it was starting to make sense. “Did you already own land?”
“No.”
“No.” He confirmed. “Did you plan to buy it or finance it?”
“We financed it.”
“What is the estimate for the approved construction plans?”
“It was one point five million.”
“You shot your budget by a million dollars.” He could feel hives covering his skin at the thought of this disastrous plan. “And this is why you reached out to us?”
“Not originally, no.”
“It’s worse.” His stomach dropped.
“Sort of. That number was before the fees for crowdfunding and the expense of fulfilling the backer incentives.”
The sound of an adding machine clicked in his head. “I’ve never explored these types of websites. What are the fees? And I’m assuming the incentive is the EP.”
“There are fees and incentives.” Carmela crossed her legs holding her hands up like a scale. “The fees are a combination of the fee to the site for hosting the campaign and the credit card processing fees, which total roughly ten percent.”
“Based on your funded amount?” She nodded. “Cha-ching for them, and ka-boom for you.”
“Exactly. Then there are the incentives. We listed the EP, t-shirts, a picture book, two shows, and other stuff.”
“All coming from the four hundred and fifty thousand you had left. Then you’d get to the building.”
“Yes, because the original request was based on leasing the center. The extra stuff was to encourage them to donate.”
Jamal recalled their picnic and her enthusiasm to help the kids in her neighborhood. He figured they’d need computers, staff, supplies and the list ran on in his mind. All chipping away at this small fortune she’d managed to raise.
Jamal scrubbed a hand over his face. This was worse than he thought. He glanced at Carmela playing with her thumbhole. She took a deep breath and Jamal sat on the table in front of her.
“Tell me the rest La.”
“We got a loan for the land and the contractor started on the strength of our campaign, since he was a fan. But then we realized the funds are dispersed in four increments.”
“That seems reasonable. You can take the first to cover the incentives, since you have a loan for the construction. Wait a minute. Was?”
“Yep, by the second dispersement Richard started bouncing checks.” Jamal held up a hand for her to stop.
This was a shit show. He stood up walking the length of the living room. The next question was obvious but Jamal was afraid of the answer.
“How do you bounce checks when you should had roughly two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from your deposits?”
“Inquiring minds want to know.” Carmela hissed.
“What?” Jamal spun facing her.
“The money wasn’t…isn’t there.”
“That’s when
you reached out to Cameron.”
Carmela nodded. “Yep. The contractor left the concrete slab and is about to sue us for lack of payment. We have to fulfill the incentives. We have a staff to pay. We don’t have the building. We aren’t supplying the services we promised to the community.”
Her words spilled out like liquid lava singeing everything it touched. Making sense of an extremely complicated situation.
This was why she had to sign her own checks. But he couldn’t say that. Not when it was her father and brother in question. This also explained their nasty attitudes and Marcel’s insistence that Jamal mind his own business.
“And in the end it falls at your feet.”
“Ain’t that a bitch.”
Jamal sat beside her, grabbing her hand now understanding the weight of her situation. He’d experience more than his share of hard times. He’d wish them on no man or woman. But Carmela was faced with a dire predicament. She needed to clean this mess up from the top down.
“Have you ever considered replacing your management?”
“Firing Richard and Marcel? No.” Her eyes boldly met his. “Is that what you’re suggesting Jamal? That I fire my father and brother.”
Jamal knew she needed a new team from the first night they met. Nicki seemed to be the only person carrying her weight. Gabriel seemed cool but his familial ties would make Jamal wipe the slate clean and start fresh.
“I’m not suggesting anything.” Jamal could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, and he didn’t like it.
“If you were in my situation, what would you do?”
Oh hell. Jamal looked away. This was why he couldn’t get in the middle of family issues.
“You’d fire them.”
“I didn’t say that, you did.” But he would fire them, in the blink of an eye. “When I evaluate a company it’s not about family, title, or degrees. It boils down to performance. If a person cannot carry their weight, they aren’t fit to hold the position. We ditch the issues and find a candidate with the skills needed to achieve the goals of the organization.”
“Life is not that simple.” She whispered. “You don’t just ditch people.”
Rockstar Savages (Forbidden Chords Book 3) Page 13