His Secret Desire (Atlanta Nights)

Home > Other > His Secret Desire (Atlanta Nights) > Page 2
His Secret Desire (Atlanta Nights) Page 2

by Linda Verji


  Thirst Trap broke their eye-contact to say something to his friend, breaking the spell he had over her. Olivia snapped back to reality and quickly turned back to face Lex.

  Lex offered her an eyebrow raise. “Has it occurred to you that he hasn’t come here because I’m with you? Maybe he thinks I’m your man.”

  Olivia brow wrinkled in confusion. “But you’re gay.”

  “It’s not written on my forehead,” Lex quipped, sarcasm evident in his voice. At five foot nine, tennis-player muscular, and dressed in a gray shirt and white slacks, there was nothing effeminate about Lex. But Olivia was so used to seeing him as gay that she assumed it was obvious to everyone else.

  Tilting her neck, she observed him. “I guess.”

  “You guess?” Lex chuckled. “Woman, you stalked me for two months and you didn’t know. If I hadn’t broken it to you, you’d still be chasing me around town.”

  “I wasn’t stalking you,” Olivia protested. “I thought we were dating.”

  Lex shot her a disbelieving look. “Which part of going to male strip clubs together tells you that we were dating?”

  “I thought you were adventu-” Olivia cut herself off and took a deep breath. “You know what? You’re right. He probably thinks that I’m with you.” She pushed her chair back and stood.

  “Where’re you going?” asked Lex.

  “To the restrooms.” Olivia fixed her tight dress over her hips, swaying slightly with her movements. Hopefully, Thirst Trap was watching her show and enjoying it. To Lex, she added, “I want to give him a chance to approach me without you cock-blocking.”

  Five minutes later, she stood in front of the gilded mirror in the restroom counting down the minutes. Ten minutes. She’d give Thirst Trap ten minutes to get off his ass and wait for her outside the restroom. If he didn’t come, she was marching right up to their table and offering to buy him a drink.

  Thirsty? Maybe. But you had to see those lips to judge her.

  Thinking about those lips on hers, kissing their way down her body, between her thighs… Woooo! Olivia fanned herself at the sudden of flash of heat that soared through her. One night with those lips and she was sure she’d finally see heaven. In the morning, she’d send him back on his way.

  One-night stands had never been Olivia’s thing, well not until recently. Lately, she’d had a run of bad luck with men. First, there was Lex turned out to be gayer than a gay parade. Then there was Donny, the thug who conned her out of three hundred dollars before he run off with her TV. James with the mommy issues…

  Ugh! She was giving relationships a break until her luck turned. However, her hormones weren’t on break. A girl had needs and she’d bet Thirst Trap was amazing at fixing needs. From what she’d felt when they’d danced, it was obvious he had the right-sized tools.

  While she waited for the ten minutes to elapse, she fished a comb from her purse and ran it through her orange wig. She plumped her lips and run some more lipstick over them before passing her mascara brush over her eyelashes. By the time she was done primping, Thirst Trap’s time had elapsed. She smoothed her dress down her thighs, patted and lifted the girls so they sat right on her chest then exited the restroom.

  The moment she opened the door she ran straight into him.

  No, not Thirst Trap.

  His friend. The one she’d barely noticed.

  He was leaning back against the wall, his hands tucked into his pocket. The moment he sighted her, he straightened from the wall. From his grin and the excited glint in his eyes as they scoured a path down her body, it was obvious he wasn’t here to escort Olivia to his friend.

  He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Tay.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Five Months Later

  The Mediterranean style bungalow stood tall and proud beyond the white rail gates. All white concrete walls, floor to ceiling windows and a low roofline, there was no doubt that it was a breathtaking piece of architecture.

  Olivia’s luminous green Nismo hummed as she pulled up in front of the gates. Even as she reached out to punch the codes into the security box, she was aware of the security camera following her every action.

  He was watching her.

  That knowledge was enough to irritate Olivia. Who did the man think he was? Christian Gray? Stalking her with his camera. He probably thought it was sexy too. Ugh!

  The gates swung open and closed smoothly behind her as she followed the drive into the entry courtyard and parked behind Marcel’s gray Lexus SUV. After adding another coat of lip-gloss to her lips, she ran her fingers through the riotous mass of curls that called themselves her hair. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed that she looked good for a fight.

  “He’d better not mess with me today,” she murmured as she popped her lips and reached for her purse. Once out of her car, she tugged her black crop-top a little lower down her torso and adjusted her screaming pink skinny jeans before starting toward the house.

  Click! Click! Click!

  Her black and yellow stilettos clicked on the concrete path as she walked. At the door, she pushed the doorbell and waited for him to open up. He took his sweet time getting to the door; kept her waiting for five whole minutes. As if he hadn’t seen her coming through his stalker camera.

  Oh, Marcel had the wrong woman. If he thought he could keep her waiting like one of his floozies then he was due for some new thoughts. She pressed the doorbell harder. Buzz! Buzz! Buuuzzzz!

  The door swung open to reveal a naked Marcel.

  Okay, naked was an overstatement. He was wearing a pair or red basketball shorts – and nothing else. Like the house, Marcel was a gorgeous piece of architecture. Broad shoulders, silky smooth dark skin and rock hard abs, he was built to be admired. It was really too bad that the inside didn’t match the outside.

  “This isn’t your mama’s house.” Marcel glared at her. His eyes scoured a heated path down her body lingering on her breasts and hips. If he were any other man, Olivia would’ve thought he was appreciating her assets. With Marcel, she knew better. He confirmed her assumption when his lip curled in a sneer. “Still dressing like a color-blind stripper?”

  “Still looking like an emaciated beanpole! Move.” Olivia clicked her tongue as she pressed a palm to his chest and pushed him away from the door. “And put some damn clothes on.”

  “I’ll wear whatever the hell I want,” he growled but moved out of the way anyway. “What are you doing here, Medusa?”

  Before she could answer, there was a sudden pattering of feet and a dog emerged. Tongue out and tail wagging madly, the canine rushed toward Olivia. She crouched low for an embrace.

  “Hey Piggy Wiggy,” she clucked lovingly, burying her face into its brown fur. “How are you, Piggy? Happy to see mama?”

  The cheerful dog licked her face then rolled to his back. She complied with his unspoken request and run her fingers on his tummy. “Good boy. Good boy.”

  “Pig,” Marcel ordered, “stand.”

  The dog immediately rolled to its front and stood.

  “Get out of here,” Marcel commanded. Pig offered him a sorrowful look before trotting away.

  “You are such a mitch.” Olivia glared at him as she straightened to her full height.

  “Tay isn’t here.” Marcel gestured to the still open door. “So you can leave.”

  “I know Tay isn’t here,” Olivia tossed over her shoulder as she clicked her way to the kitchen and straight for the fridge. Did Marcel honestly think she’d come here without finding out if Tay was on his way? The last thing she wanted to do was spend more time than she had to with this asshole.

  “Get out of my fridge,” Marcel called out behind her. Without turning she flipped him the bird then continued rummaging through the fridge. “Wow, really, this is all you got?” She shook her head at the lone loaf of bread, two eggs and four six-packs of beer in the fridge. “Bread and beer?”

  “Don’t you have your own fridge to criticize?” Marcel snapped, “Better yet go e
at from it. This isn’t a restaurant.”

  “That we agree on. This is more like the garbage bin behind the restaurant,” Olivia mocked even as she extracted the bread and one egg from the fridge. She expected Marcel to leave, instead he settled on one of the stools by the island. His gaze burned into her back as she moved around the kitchen preparing her sandwich. Ten minutes later, her egg sandwich was ready. She bit into the succulent meal.

  “Are you serious?” Marcel’s strident tone cut into her enjoyment of her meal. “I’m right here. You see me, right?”

  Olivia gave him her wide-eyed ‘so?’ stare.

  “This is my kitchen. How can you cook and not even make me something?”

  This man! Olivia scoffed, “Are you lame? Make your own damn-”

  She never got to finish the sentence because a voice trilled from outside the kitchen. “Maaarcel, are you making dinner? You sweet man.” A tall dark-skinned woman in a skimpy red lingerie set emerged behind the voice. She came to a startled stop when she saw Olivia. “Oh, hi.”

  “Hi.” Olivia assessed the woman. That bra was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. Would it be too forward to ask her where she’d bought it?

  “I didn’t know Marcel was having any more guests over.”

  “He’s not.” Olivia shook her head. “I’m not his guest.”

  “She’s not my guest,” Marcel added with an emphatic shake of his head.

  “Oh!” The woman looked askance between Olivia and Marcel, obviously sensing the tension between them.

  Marcel walked to her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Patricia, this is-”

  “Priscilla.” The woman shot him a glare.

  Olivia bit her lip to keep from bursting into laughter. Why was she not surprised that Marcel couldn’t even remember the name of his paramour? Hoping that Priscilla would tell him off or better yet slap him, Olivia slid onto a stool and prepared to watch the fireworks.

  “My bad.” He shot her a seductive smile. “Priscilla.”

  The woman melted like ice-cream in a hot oven. Olivia’s fireworks dreams died a sad death when Priscilla pressed the side of her body to his and smiled up at Marcel. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  Sweetie? Yuck! Was Olivia the only woman immune to Marcel? She almost threw her sandwich at the sickening couple. Marcel shot Olivia a wicked grin before kissing Priscilla. Sneering, she lowered her gaze back to her meal. It tasted like sawdust now but she kept eating, unwilling to show Marcel that he’d ruined her appetite.

  She was sticking another piece of the sandwich into her mouth when another woman, also in skimpy lingerie, walked into the room.

  Olivia couldn’t help her surprised, “Oookay.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you two,” Miss Lingerie the Second berated Marcel and Priscilla. “You left me alone in the bed in the bedroom.”

  “Sorry.” They drew her into their little gag-inducing circle of love.

  Olivia stared in open-mouthed shock as they traded kisses. Who’da thunk? Marcel was such an asshole she couldn’t understand how he’d pulled one woman, let alone two. There was no way he had game for a threesome. Either drugs were involved or money was changing hands.

  Note to self: Tease Asshole about being so thirsty he needs to hire escorts.

  Marcel slung his arm around his two ladybirds. “Let’s go finish this in the bedroom.”

  “Of course.” The women giggled in concert.

  Marcel guided them out of the kitchen. As they left, he tossed Olivia a, “Lock the door when you leave, Jezebel.”

  Her lips parted to give him a set down but by the time she thought of something mean to say, he was gone. Gah! She hated when he had the last word.

  It hadn’t always been like this with them, at least not on her part. That night at the club, Tay had invited her to their table. Seeing it as an opportunity to get closer to Marcel, she’d gone along. But all night, Marcel had determinedly ignored her while Tay and Sebastien did their best to entertain her. When he wasn’t ignoring her, Marcel was giving her attitude and being rude.

  By the end of the night, Olivia was over him.

  She’d given Tay her number on a fluke. After seeing who he was friends with she didn’t expect him to call again, but he did. They started hanging out and one thing led to another. After all her relationships fails, Tay was a breath of fresh air. No mother had attacked her yet, he was straight as straight could be, a lawyer instead of a criminal…

  What more could a girl want? Oh, yes! For him not to be housemates with her nemesis. As luck would have it, that was Tay’s one fault. He and Marcel were housemates. Oh joy!

  Every single time she came to see Tay, she had to deal with Marcel’s stupid face and his stupid comments. Olivia didn’t know how she’d lasted this long without punching him in the mouth. The only silver lining was that her presence irritated him as much as his did her. Every meeting was an opportunity to pick on him annoy him further.

  Petty? Childish? Schoolroom?

  Whatever! He started it first.

  “Piggy, where are you?” Olivia called out as she emerged from the kitchen to the living room. Marcel’s dog emerged from wherever he’d hidden at his master’s command and padded into the living room. She patted the space next to her on the couch. “Here boy.”

  Pig happily hopped onto the couch and set his head on her lap. It gave her perverse pleasure that the dog loved her despite Marcel’s every effort to thwart their ‘relationship’. Olivia smiled as she stroked the dog’s head and muttered inanities to him.

  One hour later, Tay still hadn’t arrived. Olivia tried to call him but was sent straight to voicemail. She left him a message. “Honey, where are you? It’s been an hour. You said you’d be here in thirty minutes.”

  Two hours later and still there was no sign of Tay. She left him another message. “Tay, where are you? You know I can’t stand being here alone with Marcel.”

  Marcel and his girls were still in his room. Really? She’d pegged him for a one minute man – five minutes maximum. What were they doing in there? Olivia arched her neck trying to hear anything. She was rewarded with giggles and squeals.

  “Yuck,” she gagged.

  “Woof,” Pig agreed.

  Three hours later and Tay still hadn’t arrived. This was getting ridiculous. He couldn’t even call her? For a moment, Olivia toyed with the idea that something might’ve happened to her boyfriend but she quickly discarded it. This wasn’t the first time he’d kept her waiting. He was probably buried in legal paperwork with his phone switched off, again.

  Olivia would’ve waited longer, but she didn’t want Marcel to find her still here, all alone. He’d burst into song and dance about how she’d been stood up. Again.

  Heading to the front door, she left Tay another voicemail. “I got tired of waiting. Don’t even bother coming to my place.”

  She only noticed that Pig had followed when she opened the door. She offered the dog a contemplative look. Marcel would hate it if she went home with Pig. Opening the door wider, she smiled. “Come on, Piggy. We’re having a sleep over.”

  She intended to head home but halfway there, Lex called her. “Where are you?”

  “Heading to my place.”

  “Tay stood you up again?” Lex asked. Olivia’s silence was answer enough. He sighed then said, “Come over to Thane’s. He’s having a pool party.”

  “I don’t want a pity party.”

  “It’s not a pity party. It’s a ‘save me’ party,” Lex corrected. “Liv, I’m surrounded by hungry men with no shame in their game. I’ve been groped twice and someone just tried to pull down my trunks while I was in the pool. Save me.”

  Olivia laughed. “I don’t even have a swimsuit.”

  “Your bra and panties are okay,” Lex assured her. “This crowd won’t notice.”

  “I’ve got Pig with me.”

  “Marcel will kill you one of these days.” Lex laughed then added, “Bring him too. He can act like our guard dog
. Believe me we’ll need it.”

  Fifteen minutes later and Olivia found herself at Thane’s party. And a party it was. The music was amazing as was the food set on tables around the pool. Pig was an instant hit. The moment, he jumped into the pool, he was surrounded by party goers eager to pat him.

  “Tay’s not good enough for you,” Lex said as he and Olivia sat by the edge of the pool. “You need a man who values you enough to show up when he says he will.”

  “He’s a good guy.” Olivia paddled her feet in the water. “He’s just a workaholic.”

  “I’m the last person who’d knock a workaholic.” Lex paused to pick a chicken radish hors d’oeuvre from a passing server’s tray. “But if he’s so into his work why did he get into a relationship? Either he’s in love with his job or he’s in love with you.”

  But that was the problem. Olivia wasn’t even sure if Tay loved her. He’d said the words a couple of times but it was when they were about to have or in the midst of sex. Knowing better than to trust anything a man said when he was in the throes of passion, she hadn’t said the words back. She wouldn’t put herself out there until she was sure he was in it for the long haul.

  “You need to have the talk,” Lex said. “Ask him where your relationship is going and get a firm commitment that he’s not just stringing you along.”

  It was easy for Lex to say that. He wasn’t the one in love. An action that sounded so logical for him had the potential to destroy any chances of a real relationship with Tay and hurt her. Giving Tay an ultimatum was like playing Russian roulette and hoping that when you pulled the trigger there’d be no bullet in the chamber. He might give her the commitment she wanted, or he might end their relationship.

  Was she willing to risk that? She asked Lex, “What if he runs?”

  Lex shrugged. “Then he wasn’t meant to stay anyway.”

  Though it was hard to admit it, Lex was right. She needed to know where she and Tay stood. Going along for the ride and hoping that he’d eventually step up his game was tantamount to putting a kettle on a stove but not lighting the stove. If she wanted Tay to start thinking of the future, she needed to light a fire under that kettle.

 

‹ Prev