Trouble With Tonya

by Lorna Michaels

  He yanked the door open and ran after her.

  BLINDED BY TEARS, Tonya searched for the truck. Where had she parked the darn thing? If she didn’t find it in the next ten seconds, she’d walk home. She had to get away.

  She’d made an utter fool of herself. Well, she was used to that. But she’d made Kirk angry in the process. She swiped at her wet cheek. What did he have to be angry about?

  She located the truck, stumbled over the curb, and banged her knee against the fender. Damn and double damn! She’d practically thrown herself at Kirk and he’d come back at her with that gibberish about slumming.

  Oh, Lord, how was she going to face him tomorrow?

  She groped for her key, stuck it in the door and was turning it when a large hand closed over her wrist.

  Oh, God! Who?

  Before she could scream, she was turned firmly around...and faced Kirk. “Let me go,” she snarled.

  “No.”

  She jerked her knee up, aiming for a vulnerable spot, but he held her so dose she had no room to maneuver. She shoved against his chest “I said; let...me...go.”

  “Damn,” he muttered, “be still a minute.” Struggling and cursing, he forced her arms to her sides.

  She wished she had on high heels. Then she could grind one of those stilettos into his instep. Since that was impossible, she settled for glaring at him. “What do you want?”

  “To talk to you.”

  She raised her chin and, because her head was the only part of her that she could move, turned away.

  “Damn it, to apologize.”

  A leftover tear trickled down her cheek, and he let go of one of her hands and wiped the teardrop away with a surprisingly gentle finger.

  “Don’t be nice,” she sniffed. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  A wry smile softened his hard mouth. The grip on her arm loosened. “You’re right, but I am sorry I hurt you.”

  She pondered that for a moment, not pleased with what she’d heard. “For hurting me, but not for what you said.”

  “It was a knee-jerk reaction.”

  “To what? Having a woman ask you to make love to her?”

  “No.” A flush spread over his cheeks. “To seeing the woman I wanted with another man.”

  Genuinely puzzled, Tonya stared at him. “What other man?”

  “Maxwell Conner the Third.”

  “Maxwell Con—Max? You thought I was interested in him? Good Lord, I’ve known Max since I was three years old and he used to yank my ponytail.”

  “Yeah?” A smile spread across his face.

  Anger drained as understanding dawned. He was jealous, Tonya thought. “I wouldn’t make love with Max if he asked me, which he would never do. It’d be like going to bed with one of my cousins or my brother. Besides—” she chuckled “—Max is a prize jerk.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” He stared into her eyes, his own eyes darkening. The hands on her shoulders began a rhythmic caress.

  “So now that we have Max out of the way, can we talk about—”

  “No,” he whispered. “Don’t talk.” And he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Warm and sweet, the kiss claimed her. His arms held her fast, pressing her against a body that was as hot as a furnace. Oh God, she’d never been held like this, wanted like this. She managed to free her arms, wrap them around him.

  “Not enough,” he gasped as they strained to get closer. He muttered curse words, whispered love words, then he lifted her off her feet.

  She clung to him dizzily as he carried her up the stairs and into his apartment He elbowed the door shut behind them and carried her into his bedroom. Then he stopped. “I’m not Max,” he said, staring into her eyes, “or anyone like him. If you don’t want this, tell me now.”

  Tonya put her hand on his cheek. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the heat radiating from him. “I don’t want someone else,” she whispered. “I want you. Only you.”

  “Thank God,” he muttered, and laid her on his bed.

  10

  AS KIRK SAT ON THE SIDE of the bed, Tonya felt the clutch of nerves. Now that the time had come, she had no idea what to expect. Kirk wasn’t like Maxwell or any man she knew.

  Would he be rough or gentle? Would they make love? Or war?

  All she could be certain of was that they wanted each other. Shouldn’t that be enough? With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned the top button of her jumpsuit

  “Don’t.” His voice was hoarse. He put his hand over hers and stilled her shaking fingers. “Let me.”

  She moved her hands and waited for him to yank the buttons apart But he didn’t “Relax,” he murmured. “We’re going to take it easy. Slow and easy.”

  She was sure she couldn’t relax; she was too keyed up. Every time she’d imagined this scene, the lovemaking had been wild and desperate. But he’d said “slow and easy.” What was slow and easy to Kirk?

  He bent over her and framed her face with his hands. Then he kissed her.

  His lips moved over hers softly, slowly...and all her tension disappeared. Her eyes fluttered closed as the kiss went on and on. She hadn’t expected such tenderness from him, such patience. This was a surprise. A wonderful surprise.

  His lips journeyed across her face, still slowly, still carefully, as if he wanted to learn every angle, every hollow. She could hear his breath sigh in and out, feel it stir against her skin. Music drifted into the room, a sweet, mellow love song.

  He drew the silk scarf from her hair, raking his hand through it as he did so. Then with tender care he slipped the earrings from her lobes and laid them, with the scarf, on the nightstand. He trailed his tongue across her throat, and she sighed aloud. At the sound, she heard his breathing quicken, felt his fingers tense and knew he struggled to go slow. But still he took his time.

  He undressed her button by button, inch by inch, as if she were a treasure to be uncovered, one layer at a time. “Satin,” he whispered. “Your skin is like satin.”

  “I want to see yours, too.”

  “You will,” he murmured. “First I want to touch you.”

  As his hands played over her body, her blood began to simmer. Lights spun behind her eyes. His tongue circled her nipple; she gasped. His fingertips brushed over her thighs; she moaned. Now his hands hurried over her, now his kisses heated, deepened.

  Oh, she needed him. Her arms were heavy, but she lifted them to twine around his neck. Her muscles were lax, but she pulled him closer. “I want you,” she whispered.

  “Soon. Very soon.”

  He rose and unbuttoned his shirt. His wide chest was sprinkled with fine black hair. He was beautiful, Tonya thought, and would have told him if she’d had any breath. But she could only moan.

  He tugged off his jeans, then his briefs. She couldn’t take her eyes from him. He was so incredibly male—aroused, strong, assured. And yet this overwhelmingly virile man treated her with gentleness.

  He reached behind him to pull a small foil packet from the nightstand drawer. Quickly, he sheathed himself and knelt above her. Tonya opened her arms.

  When he slid inside her, she was completely his.

  Afterward they lay clasped in each other’s arms. Lulled by the steady beat of his heart against hers, Tonya shut her eyes and dozed. She was, for the first time in her life, totally content.

  KIRK WATCHED as Tonya stirred. Her eyes opened. Her gaze met his, then she smiled and brushed her hand over his cheek. That simple gesture dissolved the tension that had built while she slept. He knew he’d satisfied her sexually, but had he shown her that making love with her meant something?

  He hadn’t sought this out In fact, he’d fought it—denied his needs and desires. But once he’d made the decision to give in to what they both wanted, everything had changed. Everything mattered. He had to know how she felt. “Are you okay?”

  Her smile widened. “Mmm, I’m relaxed, just like you said.” She cuddled closer. “And surprised.”

  He frowned, not sure he
liked the sound of that. “.In what way?”

  “Making love was so beautiful. You made me feel... special.”

  “I wanted to make you feel special.” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “You are special.”

  “Thank you.”

  He wondered if no one had ever cherished her before. His arms tightened around her.

  “I have a secret to tell you,” she said. “Know how you reacted to Max? I felt the same way when I saw you with Karen Monroe.”

  “With—Are you kidding? Really?” He couldn’t help grinning.

  Tonya nipped his chin. “Yeah, really. But don’t let it go to your head.”

  He chuckled and started to ease away, but she put her arms around him and held on. “Don’t move yet.”

  “Okay.” Their mouths were in just the right position for kissing, and for a while they were content with that. With soft, nibbling kisses that gradually lengthened, deepened until they were pressed tight against each other, breathing hard. “Again,” she whispered.

  With a groan, Kirk pulled another packet from the drawer. Sheathed, he plunged inside her, and she wrapped herself around him. As if they’d been making love forever, she matched his rhythm. Flesh rubbed against flesh, muscles bunched, legs tangled. Tonya cried out, his own hoarse cry followed.

  Kirk thought he might never move again. Tonya’s limp arms fell away from his back. “Tired?” he murmured.

  “If the house were on fire, I’m not sure I could get up.” She yawned. “But I should go.” With a sigh, she sat up, then frowned. “How will you get to the center tomorrow without your bike?”

  “I called Ramon yesterday. He’s picking me up.”

  “Another reason for me to go.”

  He hadn’t been thinking of the center when they’d begun this. He hadn’t considered the implications. Not smart, Butler.

  “You’re right,” he said slowly. “We should keep this separate from work.”

  When Tonya left, he fixed himself a Scotch and sat on the couch. On the stereo the Beatles sang “I Want You,” yet the apartment seemed quiet without her. He could still smell her perfume.

  The liquor burned going down. What had he gotten himself into? Had everything changed...or nothing? Tonya still held the center’s purse strings; he and she still lived in different worlds. No, everything was the same...except now that he’d had a taste of Tonya, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain his hunger for more.

  TONYA INHALED DEEPLY and stroked the petals of the rose she’d brought for her desk at the OK Center. It was spring and she was in love. Really in love.

  She’d had relationships before, but they’d been superficial. This one was different It wasn’t just the great sex, though, as her sore body attested, that was pretty magnificent. She loved Kirk’s strength, his laughter, his compassion for the kids he worked with. He might insist he was a tough guy, but underneath she’d sensed a streak of gentleness.

  She checked her watch. Dam, while she’d been daydreaming, the staff meeting had begun. She dashed down the hall and slid into her chair. Careful to avoid Kirk’s eyes, she propped her chin on her hand and focused on Ramon.

  “Next item,” he said. “Charles McGuire, one of the assistant superintendents from the school district, called. They are definitely interested in working out a joint summer program with us, but we’re running short on time. We need to come up with specifics this week. McGuire wants to come over Thursday. Kirk, Ladonna, can we do it?”

  “Friend, if we gotta do it, consider it done,” Ladonna said.

  “I second that.” Kirk’s deep voice sent a shiver through Tonya. Just hours ago that same voice had been murmuring love words in her ear. Studiously, she made a note about the superintendent on her ever present yellow pad.

  “Moving on,” Ramon continued, “the police officers start their orientation here tomorrow. Kirk, that’s your responsibility.”

  “We’re ready to go.”

  “Good. Now—”

  “Just a minute,” Tonya said as an idea sprang to mind. “I know a feature writer for the Houston Express. Why don’t I give her a call and ask her to do a story—pictures and all—on the mentoring program?” She glanced around the table, her gaze locking on Kirk’s. She hoped to see approval there; instead she saw annoyance. Well, what did she expect? That a night in bed together would change his attitude toward her being here? Fat chance. She raised her chin in challenge. “What’s your objection?” she asked him.

  “Screwing around with a reporter takes a lot of time. Time we don’t have. What’s the payoff?”

  Surprised he hadn’t figured it out, she answered, “All the guys are from the Tanglewood area way across town. How will the captain you’ve been dealing with over here feel when he reads that in the paper?”

  “Ah, I get it,” Ramon said, smiling broadly. “It’ll embarrass the sh—1 mean, shoes off him.”

  “Right.”

  “Great idea, Tonya. Let’s do it,” Ladonna said.

  Tonya glanced back at Kirk. “Sure,” he said. “Go for it.” But he didn’t look pleased.

  The heck with him, Tonya told herself.

  When the meeting was over, she headed back to her office and kept busy for the rest of the morning.

  In the afternoon Germain showed up. “What you want me to do?” he asked.

  She’d prepared a list “You can start in the study room. Put the books on the shelves in alphabetical order, then make a list of what we have. When you finish, bring me the list and then you can start on the windows. They need washing.”

  His mouth opened, then shut. “You want me to wash all them windows?” he croaked.

  “All.”

  “But you got—I bet you got a hundred of ’em.”

  “All,” she repeated.

  He backed toward the door. “I can’t do that in one afternoon.”

  “Right,” she said, suppressing a grin. “Take as long as you need.”

  Grumbling, Germain left her office. An hour later, he returned with the list of books and she showed him where the cleaning supplies were. “You can start in my office,” she told him.

  She watched him work. He was sloppy and disorganized. Leaving a trail of soapsuds between the bucket and the window. Sloshing the sponge down one window, then moving to the next before finishing the first. He’d never be finished the way he was going about the job. “Germain,” she said finally, “you need a system.”

  He turned to her, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow. “What you mean, a system?”

  “Squeeze out the sponge and start here.” She pointed to the top of the left-hand window. “Scrub that one, then the next, then rinse them both. You’ll get done faster that way.”

  He considered her suggestion, nodded and gave it a try. After a few minutes, he tossed down the sponge in disgust. “Dumb system’s too hard.”

  “Oh, come on,” Tonya said. “I bet you have a system in basketball.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, pondering, “but basketball’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “‘Cause I like it,” he answered without hesitation. He leaned against the wall. “Basketball’s where it’s at, you know? Guys like Jordan and Shaq and Hakeem, they got it all.”

  “And that’s what you’d like to have.”

  His eyes lit up. “Yeah.”

  The kid had big dreams. Tonya looked at him thoughtfully. “If that’s what you want, then you’d better get in all the practice you can, start getting there on time.” When he started to protest, she held up a hand. “I bet Hakeem would tell you the same thing.”

  “Yeah, I know, but hard’s I try, I can’t. I don’t be late on purpose, but time, it just gets away from me.”

  “Like your homework gets away.”

  He nodded glumly. Tonya smiled. She could relate to that. In fact, she could connect with a lot of what Germain said. She’d been like that at his age—still was, to a great extent.

  “Maybe you could do your home
work here at the center. You saw that study hall.”

  “I could if I’d remember what it was,” Germain said. “That’s the hard part.”

  How many times had she made the same excuse? She could have done the homework if she’d only remembered the assignment. She bet Germain didn’t get any further with that reason than she had. She wished she knew how to help him. Heck, if she did, she’d help herself. Maybe the school would know a way. Karen Monroe had said something about scheduling Germain to see the counselor. It was too late today, but tomorrow she’d call and talk to the principal.

  She glanced at Germain, who stared into space. “You’d better get that window washed, or you’re going to be working here for a long time.” He jumped up and went back to work. By the time he finished the windows in her office, Tonya decided it was time to quit. “Go put the cleaning supplies away and meet me at the front door. I’ll drive you home.”

  She meandered down the hall, hoping to run into Kirk. But he’d made himself scarce all day. As she passed the open door of the study hall, she heard his voice. Pausing, she glanced inside. He sat across a table from Toby Carson, books spread out between them. Toby’s expression was earnest, Kirk’s understanding. This was not the time to interrupt Besides, Tonya thought as she continued down the hall, this time Kirk could come to her.

  TONYA DROVE GERMAIN HOME again the next afternoon. She’d spoken to Karen Monroe that morning, and the principal had suggested that Germain be tested by the diagnostician. “However,” she added, “his mother will have to fill out a request, and getting her to do that may be a problem.”

  Karen had called back an hour later, saying that the school had an open slot for testing next week.

  “If you send the papers with Germain, I’ll see that they’re signed,” Tonya had promised. And she would, she told herself, even if she had to camp outside the boy’s door.

  “Here we are.” Tonya pulled up before the small house where Germain lived. It was a sorry excuse for a home, with its peeling paint, sagging front porch and weed-infested yard.

  As Germain opened the door of the truck, a tall, thin woman with a hairdo that resembled an untidy bird’s nest came around the side of the house. “Uh-oh, there’s my mama,” Germain muttered.