Shit!
she thought.
Did I just say that out loud?
“What do you mean?” Brandon asked her.
She swallowed hard. “I mean, um, he needs to make sure he doesn’t align himself with anyone who could, um, compromise his campaign.”
“Of course. Believe me, he knows that. It’s all he’s been lecturing us about since he announced his decision to run for governor. ‘Don’t do anything to make me look bad,’ is his new mantra,” Brandon said sardonically before downing more scotch.
Tamia was silent.
Lowering his glass, Brandon eyed her speculatively. “Anyway, were you speaking in general terms just now? Or did you have something specific in mind ... ?”
Tamia stared at him, wishing she could tell him what she knew about Bishop Yarbrough. But Honey would never forgive her for revealing her secret. And after the way Bernard Chambers had rejected Tamia, he didn’t deserve to be warned that his most important campaign surrogate was a scandal waiting to happen.
She smiled brightly at Brandon. “Of course I was only speaking in general terms. Any politician running for office needs to watch who they associate with.”
Brandon studied her in that quiet, probing manner that always made her want to squirm. “Are you keeping something from me?”
“No,” she said quickly.
One corner of his mouth lifted wryly. “Just like you’re not keeping anything from me pertaining to you and your sister, right?”
Caught off guard, Tamia stammered, “W-What’re you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your rift with Fiona—the mysterious argument you guys had that’s kept you apart for the past several months. Just because I haven’t brought it up in a while doesn’t mean I no longer have questions.”
Pulse thudding, Tamia could only stare at him.
He stared back.
Mercifully his desk phone rang at that moment.
While he went downstairs to meet the deliveryman, Tamia cleared space on the mahogany worktable, wishing she could improvise with a linen tablecloth, Wedgwood china dinner plates, and candles.
Brandon returned and closed the door behind him, then helped her set out the fragrant food on the table. They sat beside each other so they could share the generous portions of pad Thai, curry chicken, and spicy basil fried rice.
It felt so natural for them to be eating together that Tamia almost forgot about the past five months. When she fed Brandon a bite of chicken, watching as his succulent lips closed around her chopsticks, her throbbing pussy didn’t care that he now belonged to another woman. As long as he was there with her, and not Cynthia, she would enjoy every last moment of their time together.
“Something else we never did when we were dating,” she murmured.
Brandon met her gaze. “What?”
“Have dinner in your office.”
When he said nothing, Tamia smiled ruefully. “You were always worried that the partners would think you were slacking if they walked in on us eating dinner together.”
Nodding slowly, Brandon deftly twirled a few noodles around his chopsticks and brought them to her lips. She stared into his eyes as she opened her mouth, accepting the morsel of food.
“It seems,” he murmured, gazing at her lips as she chewed, “that I deprived you of a lot of things. I’m sorry for that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Tamia whispered. “You were working toward an important goal. Sacrifices had to be made.”
“True ... but at what cost?”
Tamia was silent. It was the closest he’d ever come to acknowledging that he may have played a role in the disintegration of their relationship.
His soulful eyes lifted to hers. “I never meant to neglect you, or make you feel like you weren’t good enough for me. I hope you know that.”
Tamia searched his face, trying to quell her doubts even as Cynthia’s malicious taunts echoed through her mind.
You dated him for nine months before he reluctantly decided to introduce you to his parents. That should have clued you in to the fact that he’s just not that serious about you.
Tamia shook her head, biting her lower lip. “I don’t know, Brandon. . .”
“You don’t know?”
“No.” She swallowed tightly. “I don’t.”
His eyes flashed with sudden anger.
“Know this,” he growled, swiveling her chair around to face him. “Despite everything that went down between us, I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I’m with
her
, I wanna be with you. Know this—”
“Brandon—”
“—the next time you even
think
about messing with another nigga, I’m going to jail for double homicide.”
Tamia gasped.
“Brandon!”
He cupped her face between his hands. “What you did to me was fucked up beyond belief, but I’m man enough to accept some responsibility for what happened between us. I took you for granted, and I behaved in ways that made you question my feelings for you. If I had to do it all over again, I’d do things a helluva lot differently. And I’ll tell you something else, something I didn’t even realize until a few days ago. Since we never had a picnic or made love in my old office like you always wanted to, I’ve been secretly saving this office for you.”
Stunned, Tamia stared at him, afraid to believe what he was telling her. “You mean you and Cynthia never—”
“No.” He shook his head once. “We haven’t.”
Tears welled in Tamia’s eyes. “Baby—”
Before she could say another word, Brandon leaned forward and crushed his mouth to hers.
Chapter 30
Tamia
The moment he kissed her, Tamia forgot about the past and surrendered herself to the here and now.
Grinding his mouth against hers, Brandon reached beneath her skirt and seized her lace thong, dragging it off her legs and over her stiletto heels. He swept their plates of food aside, then lifted her onto the table and roughly shoved her thighs apart.
Tamia watched, heart pounding furiously, as he knelt between her legs and lowered his head to her pussy. She cried out as he licked her clit, then sucked the plump folds of her labia into his mouth.
“Brandon,” she moaned helplessly, falling back against the table and wrapping her legs around his neck. “Ummm ... baby ...”
“Damn,” he whispered gutturally as he slid two fingers inside her succulent wetness. “Missed the
hell
outta this pussy.”
Tamia groaned as he fucked her with his fingers and his mouth. His tongue was a maestro, masterfully conducting a symphony that had her body writhing to the rhythm, her voice soaring to an operatic crescendo as she exploded in ecstasy.
She was still trembling uncontrollably as Brandon stood and hurriedly unbuckled his pants. One look at his long, thick dick, and her pussy started pumping all over again.
She pulled herself up, then reached out and curled her fingers around his hot, heavy shaft. He groaned as she stroked him, a sensual caress that seduced pearly beads of precum from the swollen tip.
Hungrily licking her lips, Tamia whispered, “I missed the
hell
outta this dick.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Brandon growled, lifting her off the table.
She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her over to the sofa and sat down with her straddling him. She pushed to her knees, shivering as the blunt head of his dick nudged her creamy gates. She provocatively rubbed against him, making both of them shudder with arousal.
“I’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long,” she confessed against his mouth.
“Me, too.” Brandon kissed her, his tongue delving inside to tangle erotically with hers.
Tamia moaned, curving her arms around his neck as he shoved her skirt up to her hips and cupped her ass cheeks. They kissed deeply and feverishly before their mouths parted on a string of saliva.
As their eyes locked, Brandon lowered her onto his rock-hard erection. Tamia threw back her head, her hoarse scream blending with his savage groan as her pussy stretched to absorb his ten inches. As the curved tip connected with her G-spot, a wave of spasms tore through her body.
“Don’t come yet,” Brandon commanded, quickly lifting her off his shaft.
“I’m trying not to,” she whimpered, “but I can’t help it. You feel
sooo
fucking good.”
“So do y—
Ah, fuck
!” he shouted as she impaled herself again, too horny and desperate to exercise any restraint. She bent her knees and planted her feet on the sofa, spreading her pussy lips wide as she rocked on his dick, making him groan.
As he began thrusting into her, she clung to his shoulders, her fingernails digging into the corded muscles beneath his shirt. She cried out as he slapped her butt cheek, the sound echoing sharply around the room. He struck the other side, making her flesh jiggle the way he loved.
She smiled into his glittering eyes. “You missed this juicy booty?”
“Fuck, yeah,” he growled, slapping both cheeks so hard she nearly came.
Her erect nipples protruded through her silk blouse, twin beacons that lured Brandon to latch on and suck. She moaned, shivering at the wet heat of his mouth, the gentle scrape of his teeth.
As he pulled away she looked downward, watching as his dark cock pumped in and out of her. The pleasure was so raw and intense, she swore she’d start speaking in tongues at any moment.
Knowing she wouldn’t last much longer, she picked up the pace, making her ass clap as she bounced up and down on his dick, riding him like their lives depended on it.
“Shit, woman,” Brandon panted, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squeezed her flexing butt. “You tryna kill a brotha.”
Tamia grinned wickedly. “I told you I was gon’ wear your ass out with this starvin’ pussy.”
“Damn. You sure did.”
Her throaty laughter dissolved into a groan as he quickened the tempo, pummeling her pussy so fast and hard she thought she was riding a bucking bronco at the Houston rodeo.
“Fuck, baby,” she screamed hoarsely. “I’m coming!”
“Me, too!”
They erupted together, shouting each other’s names as their bodies shuddered and convulsed violently.
Pulling out of Tamia, Brandon grabbed his dick and ejaculated all over her smooth-shaven mound. She purred with pleasure as he smeared his hot cum into her skin, lubricating her swollen pussy lips. Then, watching her face, he slid his wet fingers into her mouth, smiling as she sucked them dry.
She returned his satisfied smile, then tenderly kissed his damp forehead, his closed eyelids, and the strong bridge of his nose before stopping at his soft lips.
As she licked at his mouth, she slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. “Good thing you closed the door before we ate.”
“Mmm.” Brandon sucked her bottom lip. “Locked it, too.”
Tamia chuckled. “Such premeditation.”
He laughed softly.
She removed his shirt and tugged off his wifebeater, humming appreciatively as she beheld his hard, powerful chest. He quivered as she traced his ripped muscles with her fingers, then her tongue.
After torturing him for several moments, she climbed off his lap and stood before him. Holding his hungry gaze, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her skirt, letting both garments fall to the floor.
By the time she unhooked her bra and cupped her luscious breasts, Brandon’s dick was standing at attention. When she pushed her tits together, raised them to her mouth, and flicked her tongue over her distended nipples, Brandon lunged from the sofa.
Laughing naughtily, Tamia backed away, evading his grasp as he reached for her.
He scowled. “Oh, so now you playin’ with me.”
“Umm-hmm,” she teased, watching as he impatiently shed his pants, shoes, and socks. His buff, dark chocolate body was so damn sexy it was all she could do not to pounce on his fine ass.
As he started purposefully toward her, she murmured, “You owe me a cigar.”
He paused. “A what?”
“A cigar.” She arched a brow.“Didn’t you tell me that your bosses never start a meeting without offering their clients a stiff drink and a cigar?”
Brandon’s lips quirked. “Is that what we’re having, Tamia? A meeting?”
“Of sorts.”
His eyes roamed over her voluptuous body clothed in nothing more than her Christian Louboutin stilettos. He closed his eyes for a moment, nostrils flaring as he muttered darkly, “I swear you’re gonna be the death of me one day, woman.”
Grinning coquettishly, Tamia sashayed over to his desk and sat down in the leather executive chair that felt more like a throne. As Brandon watched, she propped her feet up on the desk and seductively crossed her legs at the ankles.
He stared at her, looking awestruck.
“Damn,” he breathed. “You are
so
fucking beautiful.”
Tamia smiled demurely as her clit hardened.
“Hold up. I have to capture this moment.” Brandon grabbed his cell phone off the desk and held it up. Tamia winked and blew him a sensual kiss as he snapped off a few shots, shaking his head. “Sexy ass.”
Her smile widened. “You’d better make sure those don’t fall into the wrong hands,” she warned teasingly.
“Hell, no,” he growled, admiring the photos he’d just taken. “These are for my eyes only.”
Setting down the phone, he rounded the desk and knelt beside her, slowly running his hand over her smooth legs. She moaned as the heat of his touch made her pussy cream.
“Where’s my cigar, baby?” she purred.
He blinked at her. “Your what?”
“My stogie. I’m still waiting for it.”
Brandon chuckled and shook his head before opening the bottom desk drawer and removing a hand-carved, camel bone chest that was filled with twenty premium Gurkha Black Dragon Cuban cigars—the most expensive brand in the world.
As Brandon retrieved one of the hand-rolled stogies, Tamia stared at him. “You’re giving me one of your Black Dragons?” she breathed, knowing that the rest of his coveted collection was under lock and key at his condo.
“Isn’t this what you’ve been asking for?” he drawled softly.
She shook her head. “Not one of those.”
“Why?” He paused, searching her face. “You don’t think you deserve the best?”
Tamia swallowed hard, wondering if they were still talking about cigars or something else entirely.
“Tamia.”
“What?”
“I asked you a question.”
Suddenly uncomfortable beneath his intent gaze, Tamia straightened in the chair and tucked her disheveled hair behind one ear. “Just forget it.”
“Nah, let’s not forget it.” Setting the cigar down on the desk, Brandon planted his hands on either side of the chair and leaned close to her, his dark eyes boring into hers. “You got me fucked up right now, baby.”
“What do you mean?” she mumbled.
“I was your man. It was my job to show you just how precious you are, how truly special. But it’s obvious that I failed to do that.”
“You didn’t,” she interjected, cupping his face between her hands. “It wasn’t your fault I was ashamed of who I was and where I came from. That was on
me
, boo. Not you.”
Brandon kissed her so tenderly that tears stung her closed eyelids. “If I never told you before, sweetheart, I’m telling you now. You deserve the best. And from now on, I’m gonna make damn sure that’s exactly what you receive.”
“Oh, baby.” Tamia wrapped her arms around his neck, and they hugged long and hard.
After a while, she pulled away and dabbed at the corners of her eyes, embarrassed that she’d gotten so emotional. “Okay,” she sniffled. “I’ll take your Black Dragon.”
Brandon grinned suggestively, stroking his dark shaft. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Tamia let out a peal of laughter. “Excuse me, but I meant the cigar.”
“Oh, so you don’t want this?”
“Ummm ...” Her pussy throbbed as she watched his thick cock swell in his hand, veins bulging. “That depends.”
Brandon looked affronted. “On what?”
She grinned. “On whether I can have my stogie first.”
“You still want it?”
“Yes, I still want it.”
“All right.” Brandon picked up the finely wrapped cigar and passed it under his nose, savoring the distinctive aroma. “Ahhh, nothing like a good Cuban. I can think of only one other thing that would make it even better.”
“What?”
Eyes glinting wickedly, Brandon took Tamia’s legs from the desk, one at a time, and draped them over his shoulders.
Her pulse raced.
Holding her gaze, Brandon eased the fat cigar between her pussy lips.
Tamia gasped as a rush of heat filled her belly.
“Mmm.” Brandon’s deep voice rumbled through her. “A honey-dipped cigar. Now
that’s
what I’m talking about.”
Tamia moaned as he slowly twisted the stogie inside her, sending delicious shivers up and down her spine. “This wasn’t quite ... what I had in mind ... when I asked for—
Ohhh—
” She broke off with another moan as Brandon pushed the cigar deeper.
“You asked for it,” he murmured, bending to suck one of her erect nipples, “so I’m giving you what you wanted.”
As he began fucking her with the stogie, Tamia groaned and closed her eyes, her fingers gripping the padded arms of the chair.
By the time he removed the cigar, swept his desk clear, and lifted her onto it, Tamia was more than eager to feel the hot, velvety steel of
his
black dragon pounding her insides.
As he spread her legs apart, she wrapped them around his waist and crossed her ankles at the small of his muscular back.
And then he was inside her, thrusting so deep her spine contracted.
She screamed with pleasure, her back arching off the desk.
Brandon shuddered against her. “Damn, this pussy is tight,” he groaned as he began pumping into her with long, penetrating strokes.
As Tamia rocked against his pelvis, she thought of the many months she’d fantasized about showing up unexpectedly at his office and having sex with him. This night had
definitely
been worth the wait.
She moaned and shouted encouragements to him as he fucked her with thrusts powerful enough to rock the humongous desk. Sweat coated her chest and poured from his brow as his taut stomach slapped against hers, the sound filling the room. She dug her fingernails into his round butt, feeling the muscles flex in and out as he ruthlessly pummeled her pussy.