by A. C. Arthur
When she’d interrupted him a moment ago, he’d made the mistake of turning immediately to face her, not preparing himself for the fact that since he was sitting he’d be at eye level with her breasts. So when he turned, Wham!. Those luscious globes had all but smacked him in the face and his throat had instantly gone dry. She was forever leaving him speechless.
Now he sat across the table from her and her grandmother, about to partake in a meal that smelled wonderful. When Grammy grabbed his hand and Reka scooped up the other one, he was at a loss. Then he watched the two of them bow their heads and mimicked their motions. The prayer was silent but he gave thanks nonetheless. While the Franklins didn’t do intimate family meals, they had plenty of dinner parties around the six foot cherrywood dining table and antique china dishes. But they never gave way to a blessing.
“You know, at that psych ward you and your mother put me in they served the sauce with the noodles separate. Now ain’t that stupid?” Grammy scooped spaghetti onto her plate, talking as she went along.
“That’s how some people serve it, Grammy.”
“Hmph. It’s stupid, if you ask me. You end up mixin’ it all together anyway.”
Reka sent Khalil an apologetic look. Her grandmother was a pistol, a sour grape that needed years and years to get used to, but Khalil didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was smiling.
“It’s good. So you’re fine and can cook.” He twirled the noodles around his fork before looking at her again. “I’m baffled as to why you’re still single.”
She didn’t want to blush. Had he called her fine? Yeah, so what? Plenty of guys noticed that about her. “My single status is my choice, as I’ve told you before.”
“And that’s a stupid choice, if you ask me.” Grammy grabbed a piece of bread. “Why a woman would choose to be alone all the time when they could have a nice strapping man in bed with ’em every night has always been a mystery to me.”
Reka rolled her eyes. “Sex is not everything.” But she sure could go for some right about now, she thought as she inhaled Khalil’s scent and squeezed her thighs tighter together.
Grammy almost choked on her food. Khalil was instantly patting her back and lifting her right arm into the air. “Mmmm, excuse me,” Grammy groaned. “I know you done bumped your head. Ain’t nothing like good sex and when you get it, believe me, it is everything.”
It was Khalil’s turn to cough now as Reka shook her head. There was nothing that Grammy and her mother didn’t say. That was probably where she got her candor from. She wasn’t surprised at Grammy’s remark, but she did feel sorry for Khalil’s sensitive ears. “Okay, let’s not talk about sex while we’re eating.”
“Hmph, that’s the best kind of sex, if you can get it right.”
Khalil kept his head down and Reka kicked Grammy under the table. “That’s enough, Grammy. Maybe I’ll call the cable man tomorrow and have him take away all those extra channels you like watching so much.”
“There ain’t no need to get sassy now. Besides, Mr. Handsome surely ain’t no virgin, and we both know you’re not fresh as the driven snow.”
Oh goodness, this was really too much. “Grammy!”
Khalil touched a hand to her arm. “It’s okay. I’m not a virgin and I’m not against talking about sex.”
“But at the dinner table?” Reka asked in surprise.
“I’ll admit that’s different, but I’m simply the guest. If that’s the topic of discussion, then so be it.” He shrugged.
Reka didn’t take it as lightly. She did not want to talk about sex with him, and especially not with him and her grandmother. “No, it’s not the topic of discussion.” Cutting Grammy a dangerous glare, she silently informed the old woman that she wasn’t joking about making that call to the cable company.
For the duration of their meal they talked about the weather and the Knicks.
* * *
Grammy was going to bed early, which was music to Reka’s ears. She was going to have a serious discussion with her mother first thing tomorrow morning. Either Grammy was moving in with Janell or she was going back to Sunny Days. She liked her solitude and was tired of having it disturbed by the rantings of a horny old woman.
Khalil helped her clean the kitchen and was about to make his way back to the computer when her words stopped him mid stride.
“That’s enough work for the night, don’t you think?”
She was leaning against the doorjamb of the kitchen. He turned, slipping his hands into his pockets and giving her another one of those killer grins. “That’s what I came here for. Besides, the firewall’s already installed. I’m just running a few tests. It won’t take me that long, then I’ll be out of your hair.” He was enjoying his time with her but hadn’t expected her to reciprocate the feelings.
“Oh, I’m not putting you out. I just thought we could watch a movie or something. You know, relax a little. You did want me to show you how to relax.” She’d thought of the movie during dinner after she allowed herself to accept that she really liked being around him.
“Yeah, you did say you’d help me…ah…relax.” He was having a hell of a time grasping the idea of relaxing when creamy mounds peeked at him from the rim of her t-shirt. Luckily his hands were already in his pockets, else the tent in his pants from his arousal would have been embarrassing. “I’ll just set up the test runs and then I’ll join you for the movie.”
“Great.” She pushed away from her leaning position and moved to the television and the cabinet beneath it where she kept her DVDs. “What are you in the mood for? I’ve got some action, some suspense, some sci-fi.”
And they all would probably give him insight into the vivacious woman he was already coming to adore. But what he really wanted to see was her soft side, her passionate side, because he knew without a doubt that she had one. And he suspected that was the better side of Reka Boyd. “Why don’t you pick your favorite and we’ll watch it.”
Reka looked over at him, uncertainty clear in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to trust me to make the choice?”
Looking up from the computer screen, Khalil considered his decision. Judging from her expression, again he’d managed to surprise her. That was good; he liked keeping her on her toes. “Positive.”
She shrugged and slid her favorite DVD from the cabinet and put it into the machine. “Okay,” she called to him and patted the pillows on the couch next to her, “we’re all set.”
Punching the last few lines of code in, Khalil left the computer to do its thing without him and joined her. He had to admit that a part of him was a little uncertain at giving her the go ahead to pick the movie. But how bad could it be? He got his answer the moment the perky music began and a silly cartoon drawing popped up on the screen. “What’s this?” he asked as soon as a tiny mailbox appeared with the now familiar saying, ‘You’ve got mail,’ echoing from the speakers.
He turned to her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.” She grinned. “You said I could pick my favorite, and this is my favorite.”
“Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan?” He gave her a perplexed look. “I would have figured you for Ocean’s 11 or The Italian Job or something like that.”
“Why? Do I look like a thief?” She nudged his shoulder.
His arm instantly warmed. A thief? Maybe, since she was making a good attempt at stealing his heart. “No, because they’re packed with action and danger. I’d think those things would appeal to you.”
“And a romantic comedy wouldn’t?” She didn’t know if she should be offended or not.
“You haven’t given any signs of being a romantic.”
She began to rise from the chair, now deciding on being offended. “Then I’ll turn it off.”
Khalil grabbed her arm, pulled her back down until she was almost on his lap. “Don’t. I like romances too.”
She glared at him over her shoulder. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying. Any man with a brain knows that these movies are
the key to pleasing all women. So I watch all of them and take notes.”
She smiled. “I knew you were a smart guy.” Settling back, she watched the beginning of the movie, wondering if knowing that he was a romantic was a good or bad thing. She’d never known a guy that liked chick flicks before. She started to compare him to Donovan or one of her other disasters but quickly decided against it. There was no comparison, so why waste her time?
They watched the movie in virtual silence with Khalil taking note of each time she sighed, each time she smiled and each time she made a wry comment. He watched her watch the movie more than he actually watched it himself. In the span of an hour and fifty-seven minutes he learned a great deal more about her, and was quite pleased with that fact. So much so that when the movie was over he was the one to get up and turn the television off. He was the one who came back to the couch and pulled her closer again. “Thank you for helping me relax tonight,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
Reka melted at his touch, wondering why she’d never experienced these sensations before. “You’re welcome. But I’ve got to get you more used to it. I shouldn’t have to remind you to relax, it should just come natural.”
“Speaking of natural.” With a finger to her chin he turned her face to his and lightly grazed her lips.
Reka puckered in response, let her hands fall on his chest. “This does feel natural, doesn’t it?” She questioned herself more than him.
“Very,” he said, brushing over her supple lips again. Then out of sheer curiosity his tongue snaked out, traced the beauty mark at the base of her lip and he felt his entire body quake as she moaned in response.
Boldly Reka let her own tongue repeat the action on his lips. His thin mustache tickled but in a good, arousing sort of way. His lips were soft and after she’d traced their outline, opened, ready for the assault. Slowly she slipped inside, invading his warm mouth, and her hands came up behind his head and pulled him closer.
She controlled the kiss, and did a damn fine job of it, too. Khalil kept his raging hormones to himself and let her lead him. She was used to leading. So was he. Somebody had to give, and this time it would be him. Her mouth slanted over his, taking the kiss deeper even as his hands roamed up and down her body until his thumbs were brushing past the engorged mounds of her breasts.
Her mind was fuzzy as the need to devour him crept slowly throughout her body. What was she doing? This was a mistake. Wasn’t it? She pulled away, then stared into his half closed hazy eyes. It didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt like…his thumb found her nipple. It felt damn good. That’s what it felt like. On a ragged moan she took his mouth again as he toyed with her breasts, making her center moist with anticipation.
She was kissing him like a woman ready to take the plunge. This was what he wanted, right? He wanted her in bed, he wanted to be inside her, a part of her. He wanted that so badly. Yet his mind screamed that he wanted so much more. So he was the one to pull away this time, dropping tiny noncommittal kisses on her lips because he couldn’t quite break the connection. “You’re a really good kisser.”
She smiled. “What can I say? I like to kiss.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated kissing as much as I do now.”
Reka didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know what she was feeling. Khalil wasn’t the man for her. She’d sworn off men, anyway. So why was she debating taking him into her bedroom and straddling him for the duration of the night? He looked at her as if he wanted the same thing, but that was most likely all he wanted. “What are we doing, Khalil?”
Khalil had learned a long time ago that most women were smarter than most men, so lying was usually a waste of time. Reka was no exception. “We’re kissing each other because we’re very attracted to one another.”
“But we know that this attraction can only lead to heartache,” she said breathily.
“I don’t know that.” His hands moved through her hair. “Do you? I mean, do you honestly believe that I would hurt you?”
As badly as she wanted to say no, she had been down that road entirely too many times. “I honestly believe that this attraction is dangerous and that we should both give it a lot more thought before going any further.” She loved the way he massaged her scalp while his eyes searched her face, as if he were trying to memorize every feature.
He chuckled lightly. “I think about you so much now I think I’m going crazy. But you’re absolutely right. We need to take this slow because what I have in store for you is serious. I want you to make sure you can handle it.”
Pulling her head back slightly and blinking quickly, Reka looked him up and down. “Handle what? You?” She was about to tell him that he should be the one worrying, but his seriousness stopped her.
“Yes, me. Can you handle a real man, Reka?” Her mouth was poised and open, he knew to tell him a thing or two in that brash way of hers, but he quickly put a finger to her lips to stop her. “I’m not playing and I’m not asking if you can handle me sexing you like crazy. I’m asking if you can handle how a real man treats his woman. And how a woman should be with her man. Think about that, Reka, because that’s what I’m coming to the table with.” He stood to leave then because he wanted so badly to carry her into that bedroom and simply show her all he had inside for her. But that’s what she was expecting. So with every ounce of strength he had, he grabbed his suit jacket and coat and headed for the door.
She was still sitting on the couch, probably stunned at what he’d said to her. Good, that would give her something to chew on for the rest of the night. He opened the door, then turned back to her momentarily. “Shut your computer down completely before you go to bed.”
And just like that he was gone.
Reka released the breath that had lodged in her chest the moment he touched his finger to her lips. He wasn’t simply talking about sex, that she knew for sure. And while she also knew how good she was in bed, she sensed that Khalil was even better. But that wasn’t what had her trembling, her heart going at an exuberant rate. It was his words, the fierce intensity of that undeniable question: “Can you handle a real man?”
* * *
So now he’d not only kissed her but he’d touched her. He’d felt those supple breasts straining beneath thin cotton and longed for the flesh even more.
Sighing, he turned the key, letting himself into his apartment. He was not a teenager, and sex had come to him fast and steady since his sixteenth birthday. There was no logical reason why just the thought of her, the smell of her perfume, the tilt of her head when she spoke had him horny and hot as a thirty-year-old virgin!
Stripping down to his boxers and t-shirt, he went to his desk and contemplated tonight’s events while waiting for the computer to boot up. If he’d stayed she’d be naked by now. His tongue would be flicking across her hardened nipples while she stroked him to ecstasy. She’d moan as he slipped his fingers between her velvety folds. His heart beat faster, stronger and his erection poked boldly through the slit in his shorts.
All he could think about was getting his hands on her, but he knew that was wrong. That wasn’t what she needed and it wasn’t the only thing he wanted to give her. He wanted her to experience stability and commitment. He wanted to prove to her that men could be trusted, that he could be trusted. Jumping her bones at the first opportunity wasn’t going to achieve that.
The telephone rang, startling him. His hand instinctively covered his crotch as if the person on the other end of the phone could see him.
“Hello?” The edge in his tone was completely audible.
“Working late?”
Kahlil sighed at the sound of Keith’s voice. “Shouldn’t you be entertaining your wife?”
“I would if she’d stop hacking me about the emails and what you’re doing about them.”
“I’ve only been on the job a week.”
“And yet you’ve managed to fall for one of my paralegals.”
“We’re supposed to be talking business.�
�� Khalil frowned and punched in the codes to his computer.
“Then get to it.”
“It’s somebody close to Page & Associates.”
Keith was quiet a moment then asked, “How do you know?”
“Reka received a direct email today. I couldn’t trace it, but she invited me to her place to look at her home PC.”
A low whistle signified Keith was thinking along the personal lines again. “Her home PC, huh?”
“It’s late, try to focus,” Khalil shot back.
“Is that what you were doing? Focusing?” Keith laughed.
Lines of code appeared on Khalil’s computer screen. “He mentioned seeing her at a club on Saturday night. So he knows who she is.”
Keith was quiet again.
Reading Keith’s silence, Khalil sighed. “I thought the same thing. That’s why I dropped hints until she invited me to see her home computer.” He typed in her password.
“Reka’s not like that,” Keith sighed.
“I know, but she has a lot of shady characters in her past.”
“I presume you’re already looking into that.”
Reka’s email box appeared. “I’ll have reports first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Keep me posted.”
Khalil nodded, scrolled down her list of received messages. “Will do.”
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t sleep with her if she’s a part of the investigation.”
Khalil’s fingers paused over the keys. “I know what I’m doing.”
“All right. Explain it to me after you catch this creep.”
On instinct Khalil switched screens, pulling up his own personal email. “Will do.”
Replacing the phone in its cradle, Khalil typed her address in the ‘To’ spot. Acting on impulse and remembering Tom Hank’s success in the movie they’d just watched, he typed: “Thoughts of You” in the subject line.