Hooked!: A Contemporary, Multicultural Romance (3 page)

“No,
not stalked. But I definitely was not going to pass up another opportunity to
speak to you. I meant to earlier, but you jetted off so fast. I was looking for
you in baggage claim, but you never came.”

“I
didn’t check a bag,” Kammille said. “I’m only here for a few days and all I
packed were a few swimsuits and some workout gear.”

“Now
that’s a vision I’d like to see … you in a bikini.”

“Are
you always so forward?” Kammille asked. “And who said my swimsuits were
bikinis?”

“When
I see something or someone I want, yes. I’m very forward. And as for your
swimsuits being anything other than bikinis, what a pity to hide that body
behind extra fabric.”

Kammille
blushed. He was good; on the A-list of flirters she’d ever encountered. His
compliments almost seemed genuine.

“Does
I make you nervous?” Landon asked.

“No.
I actually find you refreshing. Your type isn’t usually so direct. But you know
you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell, don’t you?”

Landon
leaned his head back and laughed. A few diners peered in their direction.

“What’s
so funny?” she said, as he returned his disturbingly direct gaze to her.

“And
you have the nerve to ask me if I’m always so forward? What type, by the way,
am I?” he asked. “I need to know pre-conceived notions I’m up against.”

“The
stereotypical jock. You know, you run a few flattering lines on your target.
She swoons. You get what you want. You leave, never to be heard from again. Her
heart is broken. She’s left wondering what she did wrong. End of story.”

“I
promise you Kammille, when we’re together, I will be in touch again … and soon.
You’re not the kind of woman a man has to have just once,” he said slowly, his
eyes turning a smoke-filled grey. 

Kammille
swallowed. Hard. Even though she knew he was running lines on her, her body
still betrayed her. The husky confidence in his deep, rich voice was the
sexiest thing about him. And those eyes … the way he looked at her.

The
waitress came over to pick up the check. Kammille promptly slid his card out of
the leather case that included the bill, slid her credit card in it and handed
it to their pretty, red-headed server.

“Thank
you,” she said to the young woman, who smiled and walked away to process the
bill. 

“I
see I have to keep my eye on you. You’re cunning. I like that in a woman.”

“What
else do you like in a woman?” Kammille asked, not quite believing she’d voiced
the question. But since it was out there …

“I
find that every woman is unique. What one does may drive you crazy, but another
can do the exact same thing and it doesn’t so much as ruffle a feather. So I
try not to have too many set parameters …”

“In
other words, you cast the net as wide as you can,” Kammille summarized for him.
“Smart. You get a lot bigger haul that way.”

“You
know Kammille, if I wasn’t so damned attracted to you, I’d be offended.”

“Tell
me Landon, what could little ole me do to offend big ole you?” she said, in
southernese, playing with him.

“Denying
me access to your womanly treasures is a good start. … But you’ll find that I’m
a patient – and persistent – man.”

The
waitress returned with the check.

“The
least I can do is leave the tip,” he said.

“As
you told me, no,” Kammille said. “When I pay a bill, I cover the entire cost,
which includes leaving the tip. That’s my personal policy, Mr. Shaw,” she
winked at him. “But thank you for offering.” She picked up the pen and added a
generous tip to the processed bill.

“Night
cap?” he inquired as the waitress took the check away.

“This
place is closing up,” she responded, looking around the almost-empty
restaurant. Had it really been almost three hours that they’d been dining?

“I
know. They close at 10. I wasn’t talking about here. I know a little jazz bar
over on Lincoln. They’re just getting started.”

“I
don’t know,” Kammille said. “It’s been a long day, and I’m kind of tired.”

“Although
it is with deep regret that I won’t have the pleasure of your company any
longer, let me at least see you to your room.”

“Oh
no you don’t, mister!” she teased. “Besides, I don’t even have to go outside.
I’m staying right here in the hotel.”

“Don’t
you watch shows like
Law & Order
?” he chastised with a grin. “A lot
of crime happens in hotels, especially to beautiful, unescorted young women.
And all I’m offering by the way is to see you to your door. I’m staying here
too. What floor are you on?”

“Top
floor,” Kammille said. And indeed, she did watch crime shows like
Law &
Order --
loved them, in fact. He did have a point … and it would be nice to
have an escort to her door.

Kammille
had travelled extensively by herself and often envied the carefree attitude of
the opposite sex. They just had no idea how vulnerable you can feel as a woman,
even in what are supposedly safe places like secured parking lots, hotel
hallways, public restrooms. Thanks to shows like
Criminal Minds
and
Law
& Order
, she knew that possible danger lurked everywhere. She wasn’t
the scary type, but as a woman, she was always on guard when she travelled.
With Landon by her side, she wouldn’t have a care in the world, and she found
that she quite enjoyed his company.

“That
means you’re my roomie … my floor roomie,” he said at her confused look. “There
are only two suites on that floor.  I’m in the other one.”

“Then
by all means, lead the way floor roomie,” Kammille said.

###

“So
here we are Kammille with a K, two M’s and two L’s.”

She
looked at him, surprised.

“I
saw the unusual spelling of your name while you were filling in the tip
information,” he explained. Very unusual spelling, for a very unusual woman,”
he said, dropping his voice an octave or two.

“You’re
very observant,” Kammille said, all of a sudden shy as they stood in front of
the door to her suite.

“Yes.
I am. It’s my job. And right now, what I’m observing is something I want very,
very much. You are so beautiful Kammille with a K, two M’s and two L’s,” he
said, putting one hand above her head on the wall beside the door and she
leaned back against it. 

In
spite of her automatic resistance to everything she was sure he was, his warm
breath on her face cracked her resistance. Kammille licked her lips, bringing
his attention to the lushness there.

“You
know, I was serious when I told you earlier that I looked for you in baggage
claim. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I laid eyes on you
today. I don’t believe in coincidences. I knew it the moment I saw you tonight
that I was proven right.”

Kammille
didn’t believe in coincidences either. She thought about her meeting with Liza
in that bar years ago. It was definitely fate. Could this be some form of fate
at work in this instance? Her resistance fractured a bit more.

“I’m
going to kiss you,” Landon forewarned, his strong, warm hand cupping her right
jawline. “Resist me if you must,” he said, those penetrating grey eyes
disturbingly close to hers, “but I could never live with myself if I didn’t at
least try.”

Before
she could even begin to formulate how to control her ragged breathing, or still
the blood coursing throughout her body, his exceedingly soft lips commandeered
hers. It truly was like a proverbial match to a flame. It had been over a year
since she had been kissed. And it felt so good. And he was so good at it.

Kammille
wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the hardness of his cord-like
strength as he pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. The force of what was
building within her was crippling … crippling her ability to think, to form a
cohesive thought, to resist … even a little. Shards of desire, passion,
longing, loving and sheer lust made her forget all of her resolve about ‘men
like him’, saving her intimate self for marriage, and her fears of getting hurt.
The only thing she felt in his arms was raw, naked need.

Landon
continued to plunder soft, warm mouth, setting off another round of illustrious
moans from deep within her. The sound of her purring in his arms was music to
his ears.

Kammille
shuddered in complete surrender to the storm of passion he awakened within her,
her legs quivering with need as she stood on tiptoe to meet each thrust of his
tongue.

Slowly
he lifted his mouth, leaning his full body into her, pinning her against her suite
door. Kammille whimpered in throbbing need, her slightly bruised lips still
pulsating from his plundering. 

“I
want to make love to you Kammille,” he declared, his thumb running over her
lips. “Say you want it too,” he almost pleaded.

Kammille
couldn’t think past the blood crashing in her head. She lowered her eyes,
knowing that her need was as bare in them as she wanted to be under him.

“There’s
no denying our chemistry Kammille. It’s as natural as breathing, yet so rare.
Say you want me to,” he repeated. At her continued silence, he said, “It’s
okay.” He put a finger under her chin.

Kammille
found the courage to face him, silently praying that the depth of her desire
for him was wasn’t too blatantly evident.

“Can
I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

Not
trusting her voice, she shook her head yes. Her legs felt like jello. He
reached for the card key she had in her hand, took it and opened her door.
“Sweet dreams pretty lady,” he said, lowering his head for one more kiss. “I’ll
pick you up for breakfast around 8 in the morning.”

“Alright,”
was all Kammille could trust herself to say. She closed the door and sagged
against it.

He
heard the thump of her body against it. Landon walked the extra 20 feet or so
to the door of his suite. He readjusted his swollen manhood, deciding to
literally take a cold shower before heading to the little jazz club he’d tried
to persuade her to go with him to.

Landon
had severe insomnia; had suffered from it for years. A nice set of cool jazz
was just what he needed to quiet his mind so he could hopefully grab his
customary four to five hours of sleep.

###

Kammille
thumped her pillow with her fist for the hundredth time, unable to fall into a fitful
sleep, even though she was bone tired. And she knew exactly why. She needed a
good fuck. There was just no other way to put it. And the man she wanted to
give it to her was Landon.

She
recalled his hard staff resting against her soft thigh as he slid his tongue in
and out of her mouth. Her juices had flowed like molten lava, just like they
were doing now. Kammille realized she was unlikely to get any sleep tonight.
Tomorrow, she would get in a good, hard workout; that way, she’d be assured of
getting some sleep, she assured herself. But in the meantime …

Since
she’d been celibate for a year, she’d forgotten what hardcore horniness felt
like. And although she wasn’t averse to masturbation, she knew that even that
wouldn’t do the trick tonight. The only thing that could stop her vagina walls
from jumping like they were right now was planted squarely between the legs of
the man right down the hall.

Maybe
she should just go get her some, she thought. Kammille instinctively knew that
the all-consuming heat that had been stoked in her would not be cooled anytime
soon – unless she did something about it.