by Rina Gray
Nathaniel grinned, and the boy behind the counter snorted. Nathaniel jerked his chin. “I’m guessing you want Big Green right?”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Can you get my la … my friend the ugly green bear?”
“Yeah.” The kid smacked his gum and reached for a long brown stick. Lifting the bear from the hook, he plopped it down in front of her. “There ya go.”
“Thank you!” She hefted the four-foot bear and squeezed it to her chest. “I shall call you Mr. Beary.”
Nathaniel and the bored kid both looked at her—the kid like she was the weird creepy cat lady she feared she would become in flat shoes, and Nathaniel like he wanted to be Mr. Beary.
Clearing his throat, he plucked the bear from her arms.
“Hey! Give him back!”
He laughed. “You can’t even walk with this thing. I’ll carry it. Let’s get you that cotton candy you’ve been going on and on about and call it a day.”
Disappointment bloomed and settled like a cold weight in her stomach. She looked up. The pretty blue sky had faded into dusk, and she shivered from the temperature drop. They must have been at the fairgrounds for at least four hours.
“I suppose you’re right. Cotton candy then home. But as soon as we get inside the car, I want Mr. Beary back.”
“Well, well, well … the unflappable Ms. Tiana gets mushy over stuffed bears. Don’t tell me you have a collection of stuffed animals on your bed?”
Ducking her head, she chuckled as they walked to the cotton candy stand. “No, I never had toys or stuffed animals. Well, not for long. We moved around a lot when I was little. Didn’t really stop until Mom had the twins in Atlanta. Anyway, toys would always go missing when we moved, so I never got attached to anything.” She’d later figured out that Katherine had pawned the toys when money was low. Tiana ducked her head, face flooding with heat.
He cleared his throat. “So Mr. Beary is your … your first?”
A gasp escaped, and her mouth went dry. Why in the hell did he always make innocent things so damn naughty? Or was it just all on her? At the cotton candy stand, the stark contrast of bright fluorescent light against the dark sky made her eyes squint.
“What’ll it be?” the stout man behind the counter shouted to them.
Her mouth watered. “Pink and blue for me, please, in an extra-large bag.” As she stared at the spool that spun the sugary goodness on the cardboard roll, Nathaniel’s stare heated her. He bent his six-foot-three frame so his lips were near her ears. “Glad I got to have a first with you, Peaches.”
Chapter Eight
Tiana hung his suits on the back of the office door, and Nathaniel inspected his dry cleaning. “No wrinkles.” Leaning in, he sniffed. “No weird smells,” his deep voice rumbled.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Nathaniel. A bet is a damn bet. I fulfilled my stupid duties.” God, it’s only been a week!
“You did well, Peaches. Now as a reward, I have a treat for you.”
Her heart sped. Not in anticipation. “What is it?” she asked slowly.
He twisted his lips and smiled. A devil-may-care, I’ve-just-done-something-bad smile. Her stomach dipped.
He is up to no good.
“As a reward for your hard work, you’re getting a massage.”
Tiana shook her head. “I don’t want a reward. Unless you want to end the bet sooner.”
“Nope. I have twenty-one days left and intend on using all of them. And this appointment isn’t optional. Be there Saturday at three-thirty. I’ll send you directions tomorrow.”
“Soooo … ” Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes. “You aren’t setting me up, are you? Like, I’m not going to end up in a back-alley, seedy parlor that gives happy endings, right?”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Peaches? You think I would let your precious ass near a place like that?”
Shrugging, she returned to her desk. Honestly, she had no idea what he was capable of.
• • •
Nathan lit the last candle and smoothed the fabric on the massage table. His frat brother’s wife was a masseuse. After assuring her that he wouldn’t do any freaky deaky shit that would require her to bleach her board and light candles for his soul—her words, not his—she let him borrow the table.
He’d arranged for a car to pick up Tiana, since she didn’t have a car and told her that it was an exclusive spa. Ha. She’d probably take one look at his swanky condo and know just what he’d prepared. And that was all a part of his master plan. The cell phone vibrated in his back pocket. Picking it up, he recognized the front desk number.
“Mr. Lawson. A Ms. Holliday is here to see you,” the concierge said in his crisp British accent.
“Yes, Mr. Weatherby. Please send her up.”
“Very well, and … ” The proper voice dropped to a whisper. “Might I be so bold as to add that she does not seem in the best of moods.”
His ever-efficient front doorman often seemed like a stiff and stuffy butler, but he had a quick, dry wit and was an excellent judge of character.
“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Weatherby, but I assure you I’ll be fine.”
“Very well. I’ll send her up immediately.”
Nathan dimmed the lights and rushed to the door. Tiana’s hurried and angry steps echoed, which was impressive because the carpet was like memory foam. Before she could lift a hand to pound on the door, he opened it.
“Welcome to House of Happy Hands.”
“Really?” Sighing, she leaned against the doorframe. “Are you really going to use this bet to torture me? I thought you wanted to reward me.” She dipped her fingers in air quotes.
“I do.” He yanked her inside before she could protest any more.
Stepping to the side, he swept his hands across the living room. “Massage table, candlelight, oils, and me.”
She scanned the room with a weary expression and clutched the belt on her khaki trench coat.
He scanned her bare legs. Damn. I could use Superman’s x-ray vision right about now.
He raised his hands, palms out. “I promise, no funny stuff. And didn’t you want me to be your slave if you had won? If I were truly your slave, wouldn’t I be the one working out your kinks?”
“I … I don’t know, Nathaniel.”
Stepping closer, he moved her hands away from the belt she was gripping like a lifeline. She stared at her feet.
“I like your shoes, too, but I need your eyes.”
She shook her head like a misbehaving child, eyes still fixed on the floor.
“Eyes, Peaches.”
Flexing her fingers, she then curled them into fists and looked around his condo. His eyes tracked what she cataloged. A beige sofa pushed back to the wall. An entertainment center with a screen and projector and a gray furry area rug. Did she see beyond the bachelor pad and smell the soothing, yet sensual aromatic oils? Did she notice the lights dimmed to a “Let’s Get It On” setting?
Finally, her eyes locked to his, and she stared. An understanding. Things were changing. His heartbeat jackhammered in his chest.
She sniffed and cleared her throat. “All right, Nathaniel. But you better not try me. I’ll slap you silly with my hands and a lawsuit.”
“Understood.” He pointed to the cotton terry covering on the sofa. “I have a robe if you want to change.”
“I don’t want to wear something from one of your sex bunny collections.”
“I just purchased it today, Tiana.”
Nodding, she grabbed the garment from the sofa. “Bathroom?”
“Down the hall to the right.” He released his breath when she went to change. He thanked God and then Tyrese, who still sang softly in the background.
• • •
Tiana still couldn’t believe she’d allowed Nathaniel to coax her into his condo and somehow out of the tank top and shorts she originally had on after changing in the bathroom. Now, she was nearly naked in just her bra and underwear
. She had to admit that she was curious about the infamous bachelor pad of iniquity.
Of course, the aggravating man had magic hands. Thankfully, he couldn’t see her reaction with her head in the padded face cradle. Tightening her muscles, she bit back a moan when his warm, calloused hands massaged her shoulders. She wanted to leave but needed the massage more. Her body felt weak, and she could’ve sworn she was coming down with something.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing, Peaches.” His warm breath tickled her ear. Her stupid heart leaped from her chest and took a trip down south to Georgia. Dammit, he was going to cause her heart to go into cardiac arrest.
“I-I … I am relaxed.” Her voice was low and muffled, and she wasn’t sure if Nathaniel actually heard her over John Legend’s high note. Forcing herself to unwind, she inhaled the lavender- and jasmine-scented oil. “See? Relaxed.”
She wasn’t. Those damned magic hands slowly moved down her back, creating a heated trail of hunger and lust. Dang it, she was going to … “Mmmmmm.”
“Good,” he said, but it didn’t sound like a question. It was more of a low, sexy, and content rumble. A sound a satisfied panther would make. And that damn growl hit her hard and heavy, straight to her sex, now pooled with wetness.
If she were limber enough, she would be kicking herself. Why did I have to moan? Why, why, why? This was like passing gas in bed at the first sleepover with a boyfriend. Ill-advised and totally not cute.
“You’re tensing again.” His deep teasing voice rose over the music. “And if you tense up again, you’re going to hurt my feelings.”
Tiana rolled her eyes and snorted. “Perhaps I can’t relax because I’m fairly sure we’re breaking all kinds of HR codes. I’m half naked and letting a coworker put his hands and oil on me.”
One of his shoes rolled under the massage table. Staring at the light-brown loafer, she was tempted to lift her head. “Why am I staring at your empty shoe?” Her skin began to cool, and her skin prickled and goose-bumped. “If you can’t answer me, then I’m leaving.”
“You’re so demanding.” Nathan’s fingers dug into her shoulders again. He leaned over, and his smooth, muscled chest warmed her back. His heartbeat was as fast as her own. “I like it.”
She squirmed again as the wetness seeped. His warm skin and heartbeat felt heavenly. Her eyes stretched, and her breath caught. She could feel his skin. His heartbeat.
“You sonofabitch!” Moving her head from the cradle, she jerked the sheet to cover herself.
Nathaniel, half naked, still leaned over her, his face mere inches from hers. His spearmint breath drifted toward her. His eyes, now murky with something she was too afraid to identify, roamed her body. As if he had the right to look and touch and own her.
“Y-you’re … ” She waved her hands wildly, and they collided with the solid mass of muscle in front of her. She yanked her hands back as if his skin were a pot of boiling water.
“Half naked,” he finished, pointing at his boxer briefs. “You said you felt uncomfortable because you were half naked. I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to set you up or something. So now we’re half naked together. Besides, it’s getting hot in here.”
“Well then turn on the damn AC if it’s hot, Rico Suave.” She tightened the sheet closer to her chest. “And put on a shirt, for goodness’ sake. A-and pants.” Raking her eyes over his perfect eight-pack abs and deep-cut V, she fought against the magnetic pull of her eyes lingering on his crotch. She knew he was into fitness, but dayum.
“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He flexed his pecs with a come-and-get-it smile.
She would not admit defeat. She would not show weakness. Mentally, she selected weapons from her ice queen arsenal. “You are being highly inappropriate.”
“Says the woman half naked on my massage table.”
Oh, how she wished she had her pencil skirt, blouse, and stilettos nearby. She clutched the sheet tighter. This would have to do for now.
“I was duped into being here. You made me come here, pretending to be nice. But no, you had to go lay down this plan, hoping to accomplish God knows what.”
“I was trying to do something nice for you, Tiana.” He dropped the seductive undertone, and finally leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, not at all helping her to focus on the issue at hand.
“No, you aren’t. You’re trying to fluster me and get under my skin. Like always.”
“I’m trying to get you to loosen up. Hell, you can’t even relax during a massage. You’re so damn prissy and orderly. You need to live and stop with this autobot bullshit!”
Her heart did a drum roll and kicked in her chest. This time it wasn’t from desire. Her anger rose to a level of someone pissing in her Cheerios. She was furious. How dare this asshole presume to know how I should live my life?
“Oh, and I suppose I should be more like you? Chaotic, uncontrolled, undisciplined.” She swung her hand toward his chest. “A modern-day Lothario, swinging my dick around if I had one.”
Sliding off the table, she snatched her bag of clothes. “I bet this was a pathetic attempt to get into my pants.”
His eyes glittered. “You don’t have any pants to get into.” His body was rigid, nose flared and fists clenched. A clear warning for her to stop while she wasn’t ahead. But oh, no. She wasn’t stopping.
“Let me tell you something. The only way you’ll get me on my back is on that massage table.”
He stalked closer; crowding her so much that she tripped and fell onto the couch. He leaned down, his weight on the sofa arm. “Why would I want to freeze to death in your arms when I have plenty of warm bodies jumping for a chance in my bed?” He then walked backward, eyes still focused on her. The sheet had fallen, and she was only in her skimpy white bikini underwear and bra. He laughed, but the sound was lifeless and very unlike him. “Is that why your perfect fiancé left you?”
Tiana gasped, tears stinging and ready to fall.
“That’s right. I saw on your social media profile you were engaged. You never shared on your page who he was, never posted a picture of him on your profile. Next thing I knew, you weren’t engaged. Did he get tired of shivering in your arms? Tired of being your perfect little boy, scheduling kisses and sex and blow jobs but only on special occasions?”
Hatred replaced hurt. Her skin heated, and waves of anger muted her normally cool demeanor. Jumping from the couch, she marched to Nathaniel, cranked her hand back, and slapped him.
His eyes glinted with a promise of revenge. But her bloodlust was not sated. She lifted her hand again, but he intercepted the swing and squeezed her palm.
She closed her eyes, suddenly tired. Damn it! Why did she have to do that? He always brought out the worst in her. His fault. All his fault. “I guess you’re right. He got tired and cheated on me with one of our coworkers.” She lifted her eyes in time to see the shock register on Nathaniel’s face.
A pool of misery threatened to pull her in, and she was tempted to drown. She hadn’t realized then why Greg never took her to meet his precious family, pretending they were always busy. She’d never thought to question why he’d never accepted her friend request on social media since he claimed he rarely used his profile when in reality he was living a double life. No, she shouldn’t have been surprised by Greg’s actions. It didn’t matter if she was a helpless ten-year-old or a capable twenty-nine-year-old. Everyone left. Her mother, Greg, and now Mel.
Tiana was tired. Bone-deep and life tired. Yes, she would let herself drown. Just this once, as soon as she left his condo.
“I’m sorry I slapped you. That wasn’t nice.” She went back to the couch to grab her bag and the sheet, but Nathaniel grasped her wrist.
“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean what I said. You didn’t deserve to be cheated on. He had to be a stupid asshole to do that to you.”
She shook her head.
He grabbed her other wrist and pulled her close. “I was wrong. You’re loyal and kind, a
nd he was lucky to have your love.”
She wanted to argue but wanted to leave more. “Let me go, please.” He complied, and she rushed into his bathroom and threw on her clothes. She yanked opened the door to a view of him leaning against the wall—thankfully fully clothed—with eyes full of remorse.
“See you later.” Rushing out of the door, she ran to the elevator, just in case he followed her. He didn’t.
She exhaled as the elevator doors closed.
Chapter Nine
Nathan strode into the office, not looking forward to the confrontation he and Tiana would likely have over Massage-gate. That’s what his fraternity brother and wife had named it after he confessed the crash-and-burn turn of events.
Their office door was cracked open. Julia, who did more for Tiana than him, sat in Tiana’s chair, reviewing the Fiete file.
“Where’s Tiana?”
“Oh … um, Mr. Goldberg said she wasn’t going to be in today.”
His heartbeat tripled in his chest. “Is that so?”
“It is, Mr. Lawson.” Leaning over, she jotted notes on a legal pad. “I’m not sure what happened. I checked her Twitter, but she hadn’t posted anything since Saturday morning. She tweeted she was looking forward to a day at the spa.”
Damn massage. He shook his head and slung his duffle bag beside his desk. Julia seemed a little too preoccupied with her boss’s life. He’d caught her starry-eyed gaze directed at Tiana more than once.
“She must be sick, so I’m recapping her notes from our meeting with Fiete.”
He snorted. Sick my ass.
The intern swiveled in the chair to face him. “Ms. Holliday would never fake an illness, especially with the video shoot just around the corner.” Her blue eyes were bright. Her face flushed.
Oh yeah, the kid definitely has a crush with a heavy dose of hero worship.
“You’re right. My mistake. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll take an early lunch today and check on her.”
“Oh!” Julia bounced in her seat. “May I accompany you?”
He swallowed another snort tickling his throat. Tiana would kill him if he showed the little stalker where she lived.