by J. A. Coffey
Dane was incredulous. "Let me get this straight. You turned down some free pussy that landed in your bed in the middle of the night?"
If you're referring to La'Treece sneaking into my bedroom, yes."
"And you have some smokin' hot babe living with you, too?"
Cayson chortled. "I didn't say she was hot."
"I know she is. All the bad girls are hot."
"Okay, she's hot." He didn't like talking about Destiny as if she were some random bimbo. But the fact was-she was hot. She was a little on the slender side, but that's how he liked his women.
Oh shit! What am I saying? She's not my woman.
"At any rate, the Barracuda released Destiny into my custody just to be a spiteful bitch."
"And you swear you're not laying the pipe to this chick?"
Not yet!
"Jeez, Dane. I'm not that horny."
"Yeah, sure. And now, you're rushing home to answer Destiny's summons."
"It's not a summons. You don't understand. I've been working late, and I promised her I would be home."
"Dude, I've never known you to be at the beck and call of a woman."
Cayson sat up and started packing his briefcase. "It's not like that, bro. I promised I'd take her to dinner tonight. You know how it is."
"Uh huh. Admit it. You may have met your match. Destiny is laying down the law."
"Whatever. I'm hanging up now."
"Wait a minute. Does she have long hair?"
Cayson thought of Destiny's face framed by cascading thin braids. "You could say that."
"Yep. Just like Sampson and Delilah. Delilah brought Sampson to his knees."
Cayson stood. "You dumbass. Sampson was the one with the long hair."
"But Delilah had long hair, too."
Cayson hung up laughing. Charly had definitely brought out the fun side of his brooding brother. He had to remember to thank her when he saw her again.
He raced from the office, jumped into his Porsche, and headed toward the freeway. The speedometer barely registered seventy miles per hour when he was forced to slow down. He joined a long line of brake lights that stretched for miles. Traffic had come to a standstill.
He let out a frustrated breath. He reached for his cell phone, intending to call Destiny to let her know he'd be late. His frustration mounted when he realized his battery was dead. Fuck!
He spotted the hirsute arm of a burly trucker hanging out the open window of an eighteen-wheeler idling to the left of him. Cayson's father had hauled lumber for a few years when he was younger. He knew truckers got all their news from a CB radio system. He rolled down his window and called out to the guy. "Hey buddy. What's going on?" Cayson asked.
"Accident up ahead," the man replied through tobacco-stained teeth. "Radio says it's a ten-car pile-up. Hope you're not in a rush, 'cause we're all in for a long wait."
Chapter Eight
Destiny twirled in front of the full-length mirror in her room. Dressed in a black cocktail dress with a slit up one side, she looked ready for a night on the town. And she was. The dress caressed her curves in all the right places. She was glad she'd taken Phaedra's advice and purchased it the day they'd gone shopping. 'Every woman needs a little black dress,' Phaedra had said. The only thing they'd disagreed on was the shoes. Destiny had to have what Phaedra called hooker heels-five-inch high platforms. They made her feel so womanly. And God knows she needed all the feminine weapons at her disposal to handle Cayson.
She'd pulled on a pair of sheer black stockings and then twisted her long braids into a bun. Her only accessory was the gold locket her mother had given her when she died. She gazed at the image of the pretty lady with cocoa brown skin. "I wish you could see me now, Mama."
She looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. Eight p.m. Still no sign of Cayson. She dialed his number from her cell phone. Her call went straight to voicemail. Maybe he was in a meeting and couldn't be bothered. Or more likely, didn't want to be bothered.
She wandered down the hall to his bedroom. She hadn't got to look around much yesterday. She was too busy closing her eyes and enjoying Cayson's kiss. She stepped into his walk-in closet. On the left side, his suits were lined up so neat the racks looked like something in a retail store. Her hands caressed the expensive fabrics. The man did like nice things. On the right side, an army of multi-colored dress shirts were starched and ready for battle in the courtroom. Destiny loved the way they seemed custom-made to Cayson's well-toned physique. Near the back of the closet, casual shirts, slacks, and a few pairs of jeans hung. All neatly pressed, of course. On one shelf of the closet, sat a tiny cherry wood chest. Destiny opened the lid to find an assortment of watches and cufflinks, each resting in its own square compartment. Damn! He was too organized.
She walked downstairs to the living room and rifled through Cayson's music collection. Jazz. Pop. R&B. Rock. Lawyer-man had quite a collection of tunes. She turned on the Bose system and selected a playlist from his iPod. The Best of Michael Jackson. Yeah, everybody liked Mike. She snapped her fingers rhythmically as You Rock My World blasted through the room. She did a few dance moves and pretended to be on the dance floor of a club.
Five songs later (when she got tired of shaking her booty), she plopped on the couch. She glanced at her watch. Nine p.m. Where was Cayson? She dialed his cell phone again, and once more, her call was sent to voicemail. Disappointment washed over her in waves. She'd dressed up for nothing. And skipped dinner anticipating he'd be home early. Her stomach growled, chastising her for waiting so long. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a jar of Nutella from the pantry. The last time she ate was at lunch. She dug a spoon deep into the creamy mixture, and then pulled it out and licked it clean.
Mmm. Good stuff. Nutella never failed her-unlike some folks.
She walked back into the living room and reclined on the sofa, careful not to puncture the leather with her heels. Human Nature played softly on the Bose. Yeah, tell me about human nature. Cayson Sullivan's nature.
I shoulda known he wouldn't be here. I have the worst luck with men.
*****
Hot. So hot. Like liquid heat pulsating through her veins. Strong fingers stroked her thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Oh, but it was a delicious feeling. She arched her back and spread her legs, pushing herself closer to the source of her gratification. As the fingers continued to caress her, inching higher and higher toward the crotch of her panties, she purred with pleasure.
"Hello beautiful. Sorry I'm late."
Destiny's eyes flickered open and she stared into a pair of chestnut eyes filled with longing. Up until that point, she'd thought she'd been having an erotic fantasy. The man in front of her proved it was no dream, but reality.
She must have fallen asleep waiting for him. She pouted. "Apology not accepted."
"I got stuck in traffic," he explained. "Had I known you'd be wearing this outfit, I'd have chartered a helicopter to get here."
She could scarcely think with him fondling her, but she wasn't letting him off the hook that easy. "That's not funny."
"I was serious. Please let me make it up to you."
"What if I say no?" She had no intentions of saying no. Her coochie was throbbing mercilessly.
"I won't listen," he vowed. "Besides, I can't let these thigh-highs go to waste".
Cayson's hands trailed a path up her thighs, caressing the lacy edge of her stockings. He nibbled on her bottom lip. She closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling. How did he manage to make her insides turn to jelly? She was supposed to be mad at him, but she pushed her irritation aside as he swooped in and captured her mouth with his. His tongue felt so right wrestling with hers. At that moment she knew he was worth the wait. She gave in, submitting to his erotic touch.
He reached between her legs and stroked her pussy through the thin material of her panties. Sparks of heat erupted inside her like dry kindling. She moaned into his mouth. His fingers were like magic, deftly finding their way benea
th the edge of her panties and pushing deep inside the folds of sensitive flesh. She would have cried out from sheer pleasure if it hadn't been for his tongue greedily sucking hers.
He created a sensuous rhythm, sliding a long finger in and out of the silky wetness between her legs. Destiny grinded her pelvis against his hand. Cayson was all-consuming with his tongue in her mouth and his fingers deep inside her. When he withdrew his hand and licked the sticky mess from his fingers, the erotic gesture made her heart race.
"Is this all for me?" he coaxed. "You're so wet, baby."
He claimed her lips again, and she tasted herself on his tongue. The scandalous act only increased her desire for him. His fingers thrust inside her pussy. He was relentless in his stroke. He pushed deeper. Faster. Harder. She held on for the ride. Every one of her senses was on alert. Her heart pounded. Her temperature soared. A river of hot lava flowed through her. Any minute, she was going to burst into a full-blown blaze.
"Is this what you wanted?" Cayson panted against her ear. "Is this what you waited for?"
"Yes!"
"Say you forgive me," he ordered as he fingered her with frenzied movements.
In that moment, she knew she would forgive him anything. As long as he didn't stop his erotic torture. "I forgive you."
The pad of his thumb slid across her clitoris. It was her undoing. A white-hot heat burst through her as he simultaneously rubbed the sensitive flesh and finger-fucked her. Her body jerked. Then, spasms of ecstasy flooded through her. "Cayson!" she screamed.
His free hand snaked around her back and held her tight against him. He cradled her as she soared and then drifted back down from her hedonistic cloud. The pulsating between her legs slowed to a steady ebb. Cayson placed tender kisses on the tip of her nose.
"That was incredible," she gushed.
The desire in his eyes had not abated. "Woman, I'm just getting started."
She watched as he kneeled above her and loosened his belt. Her dress had risen above her hips. Her panties were twisted. She was sure she was a mess. But she couldn't take her eyes from the tent pole in his pants, straining to be free. This was it. He was going to fuck her. Was she ready? Could she handle him? Would he be gentle? Would she satisfy him? She held her breath, anticipating the pleasurable pain she would soon feel.
The shrill ringing of the telephone in the study made her jump. Even if she could ignore it, she couldn't ignore the panicked voice of Cayson's mom when the answering machine picked up. "Honey, are you okay?" Irene asked. "I tried calling your cell phone but I kept getting your voicemail. And there was no answer at your office, of course. Call me. I just want to make sure my little boy is okay."
Little boy? Hardly!
"I'm coming over there if I don't hear from you in a few minutes," Irene threatened. "Cayson? Cayson, are you there?"
Irene had definitely killed the mood.
"Shit!" Cayson muttered as he trotted toward the phone. His unfastened belt buckle flapped as he moved. Frigid air replaced the spot where his lips used to be. "Fuck!" Destiny heard him curse again as he banged his knee against the desk while diving for the phone. "Hello, Ma. Yeah, you kinda caught me in the middle of something. What's up?"
As Destiny listened to Cayson's side of the conversation, she willed the inferno between her legs to cool. Maybe it was a good thing Irene had interrupted them. Now, she had a chance to clear her head. She'd come so close to sleeping with Cayson. She promised herself she wouldn't get involved with him, but the man was so damn hard to resist! Especially when his lips and hands were doing things that made her body hum. To hell with being an attorney. He should be a master puppeteer. He sure knew how to pull her strings.
On wobbly legs, she stood and pulled her dress down. She wanted more than thick fingers inside her. She wanted more than the taste of his tongue. Her body hummed for his touch. He was the only man who had brought her to such heights and made her scream his name. The experience was all-consuming. Yet, she knew it was only the beginning of what he had in store for her. She wanted him so bad, but if she had sex with him then he would know her secret. She would be changed forever. No, she had to hold back. She had to be more to Cayson Sullivan than a piece of ass.
She made her way back upstairs to her room. She didn't trust herself to be around him right now. She locked the door and slipped under the covers. If he knocked, she would pretend to be asleep. But she knew there was no way in hell she'd be able to sleep tonight.
*****
Over the next week, Destiny maintained her distance from Cayson. Both at home and at the office, she was cool as a winter day toward him. He couldn't figure out the reason for her mood swing. At first, he assumed she wasn't attracted to him. But the night he came home to find her asleep on the sofa proved him wrong. It was though he'd unleased a sensual tsunami. The way her body responded to him was something a woman couldn't fake. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Then, his mother had called, and doused his ardor with verbal ice water. Talk about bad timing.
Destiny had retreated to her room and his knocks on her door went unanswered. The only thing he could figure was she'd changed her mind. Women could be fickle like that-though it rarely happened with him. In frustration, he'd gone back to his bedroom to take a cold shower. Not even the icy needles of water pelting his flesh could soothe his raging libido. He finally ended up masturbating while he thought of her lush breasts filling his mouth.
Now, he sat in his office. His dick was rock-hard just thinking about the incident. Shit, if he didn't get laid soon, he would self-combust. But he didn't want just any chick. He wanted Destiny Jackson.
A tap on his door broke him from his lascivious reverie. Hoping it was Destiny, he looked up with a ready smile. His joy was replaced with disappointment when he saw Phaedra standing there. He beckoned her in.
"Hey, you asked me to keep you posted on the status of Destiny's apartment. Her name got pushed back a little on the waiting list. Her apartment was offered to a woman and her kids who were being abused by her husband. Victims of domestic abuse take priority."
He nodded. "Understandable."
She held a stack of papers, which she shifted to her other hands. "I hope you're not mad."
"Why would I be mad?"
"Uh, because you told me in no uncertain terms to find her a place ASAP."
"Yeah, well I said I understand. Things happen."
"Things happen?" She looked over her shoulder and then lowered her voice in a conspirator whisper. "Did you smoke something before coming in this morning?"
Despite his dull mood, he laughed. "No. Why? Are you offering?"
"Of course not!" Her face contorted like she'd just sucked on a sour pickle. "I'm shocked is all. You never take things so calmly when they don't go right."
"It doesn't do anyone any good to get all riled up over it. Besides, it won't change anything."
Phaedra crossed her arms. Her brows furrowed as she stared at him. "You like her."
"Destiny? Of course, I like her. She's nice. Smart. Helpful. What's not to like?"
"No," she pursed her lips. "You know what I'm talking about. You have a thing for her. You don't want her to move out."
He waved her away. "There's not enough office gossip about me already? You have to start rumors?"
She winked. "Your secret is safe with me."
He scowled as Phaedra left his office. There is no secret! I don't have a thing for Destiny.
What was wrong with Phaedra? Just because two people were stuck together for reasons of convenience didn't mean they liked each other. In fact, with the exception of their attempt at the Horizontal Mambo the other night, they were barely civil to each other. Not to mention Destiny was a horrible roommate.
She polluted the house with god-awful smells from her failed cooking experiments. She dripped water on the bathroom floor every time she took a shower. She drank juice straight from the container and then put it back in the fridge. So what if she was gorgeous? And her skin was fla
wless? And her laugh was contagious? And she liked watching the same old movies as he did. Since that night he'd had his fingers deep inside her, they'd been tiptoeing around each other, afraid to get close enough to accidentally ignite the spark of lust. That was all it was-pure and simple. Lust. Between a hot-blooded man and an even hotter chick.
It didn't mean anything. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the rock in his trousers. It didn't mean anything at all.
*****
Destiny slid into the passenger seat of Phaedra's Maxima. She snapped her seatbelt in place and sniffed the fragrant air. It always smelled liked strawberries in Phaedra's car, courtesy of the air freshener that hung from the rearview mirror.
"How do you manage to keep this car so clean all the time?" Destiny asked.
Phaedra backed out of her parking spot in the underground garage. "I don't let anyone eat in here, and I take it to the carwash every two weeks." She smiled. "I can't let my baby get too dirty."
"Your baby?" Destiny laughed. "You talk as if this car is one of your kids."
"Please, don't curse me!" She drove out of the parking lot into the bright sunlight. "Taking care of my car is bad enough. I'd hate to have to deal with a child."
"Why? Because you're not married?" Destiny saw nothing wrong with having kids out of wedlock. Shit happened. She was living proof of that. Her father was one of many faces she couldn't pick out of a crowd if her life depended on it.
"I don't plan on having children whether I'm married or not. Nobody I know that has kids is happy. The world is too crazy to bring another human being into it. And truthfully, they slow you down financially."
This was where they differed in opinion. Destiny wanted a houseful of kids. She would cherish them and give them the love she missed growing up in foster care. She wished she could adopt all of the kids in the system, especially the older ones. People treated orphans like pets sometimes. They only wanted the cute little ones. No one wanted a preteen.