Well now she knew his weakness, and he was going to be the one that was sorry.
Chapter 5: The Plot Thickens
"You’ve crossed my mind ten million times over the last few years."
"You've always been beautiful, but there's something else there, something deeper."
"I can't believe some Hollywood hunk didn't sweep you off your feet in LA."
Brooke recalled the compliments Zeke had lavished on her during their date. The fact that he wanted her back was clear.
In that case, she had the perfect bait – herself.
Brooke had never set out to intentionally make a man fall in love with her. Living among so much make-believe in Los Angeles over the last five years had given her just the skills she needed to pull off her plot.
"Some things are timeless Brookie," her screen-writing friend Scotch had said once. "When I have writer's block, I go right back to what's always worked. Revenge, money, sex, greed – they're universal feelings and there are a million ways to get them, but there are only two roads that lead to them. Love or hate. All human actions stem from these two emotions."
"So, I start there … and before you know it – poof! -- writer's block is gone," Scotch had summed up, throwing his hot-pink feather boa across his shoulders extravagantly as they'd sat on her terrace drinking Cosmos one rare, chilly afternoon.
Brooke giggled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she remembered her friend. He was about the only thing she missed about LA. He loved Tinseltown, or "T town" as he called it, as much as she loved New York. And even though he was as flashy as Liberace on the outside, he was as real a person as you could meet on the inside.
Scotch had been instrumental in helping her pull herself together in L.A. It had taken almost a year, but piece by piece, he'd helped her get her life – personally and professionally – back on track.
Brooke missed her friend.
. . .
"Is he still as hot as he was in that one picture I just happened to glimpse of him buried in your closet all those years ago?" Scotch said, as Brooke relayed details of their recent date to him.
Brooke had decided to call Scotch. She was feeling a little lonely as she hadn't yet reconnected with any of her friends in the city. Truth be told, she wasn't quite sure who was still around.
Wanting to put as much distance between her new life in LA and her old life in New York as possible back then, she hadn't exactly kept in touch when she'd picked up and left.
All of her friends knew her and Zeke as a couple, as she'd met him within the first few weeks of moving from Atlanta to New York after college. So all the friends she'd cultivated over the years – they'd cultivated together.
"Yes, even hotter if that's possible," Brooke responded in spite of herself.
"So just what the hell are you doing? I thought you said you never wanted to see him again. And not for nothing, I saw the train wreck you were. I still have tear stains on some of my sofa cushions – did I mention they were silk! -- from you crying yourself to pieces over him."
"Out with it, what gives Brookie?"
"Stop calling me Brookie, Scotch. My name is Brooke. I can't take you seriously when you call me Brookie. You make me sound like an eight-year-old?"
"Sweetness you'll always be Brookie to me, so just stop trying to dodge my question and fess up. What's going on with you? I may be a queen doll, but make no mistake, I'll come out there and kick some Zeke ass if I have to."
"Alright, to be perfectly honest, I've decided to exact some revenge." Brooke explained to Scotch about her plan to make Zeke fall in love with her and then dump him.
"Careful hon. A soul as sweet as yours doesn't know the first thing about exacting revenge. And second, when one seeks revenge, they often wind up punishing themselves more than the other person."
Fifteen minutes later, as she got ready to hang up, Scotch said, "If you do decide to go ahead with your little revenge plot, remember -- some feelings are universal and they all stem from two emotions -- love or hate.
"And if this guy still has feelings for you, then jealousy would be the perfect revenge."
. . .
As she crawled into bed that night, her friend's words rang in her ears … but not the ones about making Zeke jealous.
"…when one seeks revenge, they often wind up punishing themselves more than the other person."
Chapter 6: No One Can Love Me Like You Do
Zeke steadied himself over the quivering body beneath him.
Staring into the dark-brown eyes of the beautiful woman, his green eyes held hers in a trance as he slowly parted her legs.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he positioned his manhood to enter her. She winced at the initial prodding, unprepared for the size of him.
Lowering his head, he raked his tongue softly across her lips to distract her from what was going on below.
A little deeper.
"Ah," she whimpered, sucking in her breath.
"Open to me baby, open to me," he said, circling his tongue around the inside of her mouth.
"Uhm," she moaned.
Further into her warm woman's hollow he pushed.
Deepening the kiss, he whispered in her ear, "I got you baby. I got you. I love you, I'm here. I’m right here."
He could feel her relax into his words of love. Her womanhood flowered, opening to him as a petal would to rain. He reached down, put both hands under her buttocks and raised her to him, completing his entrance.
As he moved within her, Zeke took one of her lush breasts into his mouth, wanting to devour every contour of her.
Her hands buried themselves in his thick mane of black hair, begging him to suck harder, plunge deeper and release her from the sweet agony of his lovemaking. She wanted it to stop and continue at the same time.
Her mind was a confused mixture of scorching passion, intense longing and soul-defying need … for him, of him, by him.
It took all of Zeke's control not to satisfy his ache before he satisfied hers. She gave herself to him with such complete abandon; it touched him in ways no other woman ever had.
He'd never felt so powerful – or so weak -- at the same time.
. . .
Sleep had been impossible for Zeke to come by, so he'd lain in bed, remembering the first time he'd made love to Brooke.
Their passion had always been effortless. No other woman had come close to making him feel the way she did – in bed or out.
Now, he had a second chance … and he wasn't about to blow it again.
Zeke repositioned his stiffened manhood, rolled over and waited for sleep to claim him.
Chapter 7: Let the Games Begin
"Sure thing," Gary said. Brooke had asked him to spot her on the weight machine.
Gary was 32, and one of New York City's finest – a police officer. They had been making eyes at each other over the last few weeks. She'd also noticed him checking out other women in the gym too, which made him perfect for her mission.
Since No Excuses wasn't a pick up kind of gym, she'd never actually seen Gary try to talk to any of his potential conquests. So she knew that if a move was going to be made, it'd have to be done by her.
After three weeks of covert eye-to-eye contact, today was the day. She knew that Zeke had a training session with one of his clients today, so she'd come to the gym to get 'Operation Jealousy' under way.
Brooke was proud of herself. She'd spent the last three weeks hanging out with Zeke to reel him in so to speak.
Who's reeling who in? a little voice said.
Dismissing the intrusive thought, she concentrated on her reps.
Just as Gary lifted the bar containing the weights from her hand, she spotted Zeke out of the corner of her eye. He turned to make his way over to where she and Gary were.
Pretending she didn't see him, she scooted out from under the bar, smiled brightly up at Gary and said, "What does a girl have to do to get one of New York's finest to ask her out?"
Not missing a beat, he responded, "Well, my duty is to protect and serve. I've protected you from hurting yourself with the weights, now I guess I'll have to fulfill my second duty, put myself at your service and take you out."
Zeke stopped dead in his tracks.
At that moment, Brooke pretended to see him for the first time, "Oh, hey Zeke. What's up?" she said cheerfully.
Storm-green eyes greeted her.
"Hey Granger, you working out or training someone today? I still want to take you up on a session or two to learn the secret to those 'guns' of yours," Gary said, referring to Zeke's muscular arms.
Continuing to stare at Brooke, Zeke responded, "Yeah, sure man. Anytime."
Turning his attention back to Brooke, Gary said, "My buddy's signaling for me to come over. I'll find you before I leave and get your number, ok?"
"I'm only going to be another 15 minutes or so, I'll find you and give it to you," she said.
"So I did hear right?" Zeke said upon Gary's departure.
"Hear what right?" Brooke feigned innocence.
"Colbert asking you out."
"Oh, you mean Gary? … Yeah, we're gonna hook up," Brooke said, and immediately regretted her choice of words.
Was that pain in those emerald green depths?
"We're just gonna grab a bite or something sometime. I'm new back in the city, and need to start having some kind of a social life again," Brooke went on, swallowing over the surprise of the little lump in her throat.
"…when one seeks revenge, they often wind up punishing themselves more than the other person."
"I see," Zeke said. "So what would you call what we've been doing these last three weeks? We haven't been socializing?"
I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I think it's best we just go our separate ways, Brooke. … Zeke please, please don't do this!
Looking past his pain to the day he'd shattered her heart into a million pieces – pieces she was beginning to think she still hadn’t fully put back together -- Brooke looked into those emerald eyes she'd once loved with her whole being and said, "You offered to be my tour guide to the city and I let you, no more, no less."
"I see," he said again, turned and left.
. . .
Brooke leaned against a locker in the women's dressing room. She'd achieved her goal. Zeke was definitely jealous, but where was her feeling of victory?
"…when one seeks revenge, they often wind up punishing themselves more than the other person."
"Shut up, Scotch!" she whispered vehemently.
The attendant collecting the dirty towels in the locker room turned to look at her strangely.
Brooke stripped and headed to the showers.
Chapter 8: Proof of Passion
"It was nice 2 officially meet u. Will call 2morrow. Get home safe."
Hmm, he's starting off on the right foot Brooke thought as she read the text message on her phone from Gary.
A slight smile crossed her lips as she reached around to her side to open the flap on her leather bag to put the phone away.
"Excuse me, …" she said, as she bumped into the tall stranger. Her head landed right in the middle of his rock-hard chest. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention …" She stopped mid-sentence.
"Seems to me you've made a habit of that," Zeke said as he steadied her, pulling her to him.
"Let me go, Zeke," Brooke said. "What's wrong with you and what do you mean? I've made a habit of what?"
"You seem to be making a habit of not paying attention," Zeke responded, his eyes probing her face. "I thought we were getting along so well. Why are you …"
Brooke cut him off, attempting to free herself from the embrace he still held her in. "Let go of me!" she hissed at him.
Releasing her, he said, "Just answer my question. Why are you going out with someone else, when I thought we were rebuilding …"
"Zeke I'm not the naïve little 22-year-old you met, or the heartsick 25-year-old you left. I thought we were building a friendship," she lied. "Nothing more, nothing less."
Searching her eyes for a few seconds, he bluntly stated, "I don't believe you. I know there's still something there between us … and it's a helluva lot more than friendship. I haven't pressed it because …"
"Because what Zeke? Because you're not sure if there is something there? Because you're not sure – once again – that I'm what you want? Because you're not sure …"
Realizing that she was close to spilling her real feelings about how he'd treated her all those years ago, she said, "You know what? Don't answer any of that. It's not important."
"The point is, you're free to do what you want, as am I. And that's the answer to your question. I'm going out with someone else because I can. Because I'm living my life as I see fit; doing what makes me happy."
Fearing that if he pressed her any further, she wouldn't be able to control her emotions, Brooke stepped around him, continuing her walk to the subway station.
Zeke's arm shot out, grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. With one hand on the wall to steady himself and another cupping her face, he lowered his lips to hers, holding her gaze the entire time.
Not wanting to cause a scene right there on the sidewalk, Brooke stood stock still, hoping that he'd get the message … I feel nothing for you. You have no effect on me.
Instead of the hard, fast kiss she expected, he took her bottom lip in his slowly. Taking his other hand off the wall and positioning it on the side of her face, his thumb swept across her cheekbone, caressing it as he deepened the kiss.
Unprepared for the gentleness of his onslaught, Brooke heard a moan.
Was that her voice?
Encouraged by her response, Zeke leaned into her on the wall. Sliding the tip of his tongue inside her mouth, he continued his sensual assault, slowly darting in and out of her mouth, leaving her wanting, panting for more.
Brooke leaned into him. Hands locked on each side of his waist, she rose on tip-toe to meet his passionate assault as his tongue strokes went deeper; got harder.
"Do you kiss your friends like that?" Zeke said, as he pulled back from her abruptly.
A rush of cool, fall air hit her face, where his warm hands had cradled her just seconds ago.
Falling forward slightly at his sudden release, Brooke shook her head to clear the fog of desire from it.
"You can lie to me all you want Brooke. But don't lie to yourself. There is still something between us. There always will be. And going out with some bozo you met in a gym isn't going to change that."
Still feeling the softness of his lips on hers, Brooke turned around so she wouldn't have to look at Zeke's retreating frame.
Dismissing the idea of taking the subway home, she walked the thirty-one blocks to her apartment.
Chapter 9: The Marriage
"I, Tina Latrice Walker, take the, Zeke Laird Granger, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. That is my solemn vow."
Solemn vow indeed, Zeke thought. "The woman didn't know the meaning of the word," he said to himself. And I'm still paying for her betrayal.
Knowing that Brooke was seeing someone else … that they weren't on track to regaining what they had, had unhinged something in Zeke.
He'd vowed to himself that if he ever had a chance at love again, he'd take it – and do everything in his power to keep it. He never thought he'd have that chance again with Brooke.
But now that he did … he was screwing it up all over again.
She was so angry at him. He could see it in the depths of her almond-shaped eyes. But he thought he'd have a chance to show her, to prove to her through his actions, that he could make things right between them.
Now he realized that until he set things right within himself, he'd never have a chance to do so with Brooke.
Hell, he didn't blame her. If the situation were reverse
d, he didn't know if he would be able to give her a second chance. In fact, he knew he wouldn't.
The way he'd left her had been cruel. And the cruelest part of it all had been not offering any explanation; he gave her no closure.
I don't think I fully understood what that must have felt like until I just happened to find out that she's dating; seeing other people, he thought. What an ass I've been! And it's all because I haven't dealt with being betrayed.
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