by Rachel Cross
“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, and 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.
“I, uh, think it would be more helpful if you remained at the office and transposed her notes.”
Slumping her shoulders, the intern pivoted back to the computer. “I suppose you’re right. But if she’s sick, please be sure to take care of her. She likes—”
“Birthday cake ice cream when she’s stressed, happy, sad, mad . . . Hell, anytime. I’ll be sure to take care of Ms. Holliday.”
The morning flew by and, as planned, he left to confront his scaredy-cat coworker.
Before he could buzz up, Tiana’s best friend and roommate flew down the steps.
Nathan grinned, prepared to charm the pants off Melanie. He could have sworn he smelled rubber burning when she did an impressive Fred Flintstone skid and froze when she recognized him.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Lawson. What brings you ’round our neck of the woods?”
Pushing off the stoop, he stepped directly in her path. “I just wanted to check on Tiana. Make sure she isn’t playing hooky when we have an important campaign to lead.”
Melanie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I think we both know Tiana would never shirk her responsibilities. Not that it’s any of your business, but she has a fever and a cold. Now if you would excuse me, I need to get to work.”
Sidestepping his body, she walked past him. He chuckled and shook his head. She’s even got her roommate fooled.
She turned around, walking backward, eyes dancing with mischief and lips stretched in I’ve-got-a-big-secret grin. “Don’t worry. She has a strong, strapping young man upstairs who’s taking care of her.”
“What?” He grounded his hand into the cement rail, wishing it was the head of Tiana’s strong, strapping young man. Could it be that guy from Diago’s? The one that flipped his hair?
“Bye, bye, now!” She waved, bouncing as she walked away.
Taking two steps at a time, he jabbed the hell out of the buzzer.
“Who is it?” a deep voice answered.
“Tiana’s boss,” he lied easily. “Let me up.” Irritation buzzed around him like a mosquito at a summer barbeque. Too bad Mr. Hair Tosser wasn’t in front of him to swat and squash.
“Tiana’s sick. I thought she called into work already.”
Nathan squeezed his hands into a fist. “She called in but asked for her files. If she doesn’t get them today, she’s gonna be pissed.”
Another long pause.
“All riiight, man.” The laugh that accompanied the disbelieving tone was cut off by intercom static. “Come on up.”
Three staccato rings signaled him to enter, and Nathan rushed through the lobby doors.
He was pissed. Clearly, Tiana had exaggerated the unimportance of her date. She wouldn’t let just anyone take care of her if she were truly sick. Or worse, take a personal day to screw around.
He jogged up the stairs and banged on the door.
It jerked open, revealing a tall man-child at least six-five with a baby face and struggle beard that had probably taken him three months to grow. Tiana is a damn cougar.
“What in the hell are you doing?” the man-child whispered-yelled. “She’s sleeping, man!”
Jealousy attacked Nathan’s chest like a swarm of killer bees. He wasn’t going to explain himself to Tiana’s baby cub. Fuck it. He was going to storm the apartment. “Out of my way, Simba.” Smacking the door open with his hands, he walked in like he owned the place.
“Tiana!” Nathan yelled.
“Hey man, get the hell out of here.” Simba tried to grab hold of Nathan’s shoulder, but he did a two-step and easily avoided the young man’s hands.
“What’s going on?” a raspy voice barked from the other side of the room. Tiana leaned against the kitchen counter, a wad of tissue in her hand.
Damn, she is sick.
Simba answered for both of them. “This asshole claims he’s your boss and wanted to drop off some files from work. Then he pushed open the door and barged in.”
“Casey, don’t say asshole,” she admonished in a weak voice. Her puffy eyes focused on Nathan. “That true?”
“I . . . I was worried.”
Tiana sniffed, coughed into her hand, and slumped against the wall. Nathan and the man-child rushed to her side.
/> “I got it!” Casey yelled, elbowing Nathan’s side.
“No, I’ll take care of her,” Nathan responded with a stronger blow to the ribs. Simba was young. He could handle it.
“Guys.” She gasped for breath after another bout of coughing. “You’re giving me a headache.”
Casey’s lips thinned into a tight line, but his eyes were gentle and reverent. “Let me take care of you for once, Tee-Tee.”
A growl escaped Nathan’s throat. Who in the hell is this guy?
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “You’ve got your interview. Go on and finish getting ready in my room.”
“I’m not leaving you with this psycho.” Casey jerked his thumb at Nathan.
“He’s not a psycho. I work with him. He’s safe . . . promise.”
A sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead. Nathan pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently patted her forehead dry. Sliding an arm beneath her legs, he scooped her up, walked her to the couch, and settled her frail body on his lap.
Casey stood, mute and staring at them from the kitchen. His dark eyes glinted and narrowed with murderous intent. “You better take care of my sister!”
Sister! The brewing storm ceased, and the dark, gray clouds receded. Oh, shit! I almost beat up her little brother.
“Sorry, man. Thought you were her . . . her . . . ”
“Boyfriend? That’s gross, man.” Now laughing, he walked back to Tiana’s room, pausing at the door. “Brother or not, you touch my sister or do anything else stupid, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Got it.” Nathan glanced down at Tiana, whose eyes were closed. Heat emanated from her skin. Pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, he checked her temperature. Damn, she’s burning up.
He lifted her again and settled her on the couch. Quietly, he crept to the bathroom for a washcloth, wet the fluffy yellow rag with cold water, and returned to sleepy beauty.
Each erratic breath seemed like a struggle, as if she couldn’t get enough oxygen. Bending to his knees, he wiped the sweat from her face. The cool cloth hit her skin, and she shivered but didn’t open her eyes. He lifted her again, holding her against his chest.