Long Slow Second Look (3 page)

I trembled with anticipation and murmured against his mouth when he slid his other hand down my back to gently squeeze and caress my ass cheeks.

With his big hands moving over my rump as if they had a mind of their own, I pressed closer to his big, muscular body.

He inched his hips closer to mine.

I felt the unmistakable stirring of his cock. I was so turned on I forgot where we were and that we had an audience. Cupping my hands on the back of his head to keep his lips and tongue in close and delicious intimate contact with mine, I greedily exchanged a series of heated kisses with him that made me burn.

When I thought I felt his cock hardening, I was only a breath away from rubbing myself against it until he was fully aroused. He continued to caress my ass and inched his hips closer.

All I could think about at that point was the need to reach between our bodies, free his cock, and eagerly part my legs for him to slip inside me.

Shocked by the level of desire I felt for him, I pulled my lips from his and slid my hands down from his hair to push against his shoulders.

He resisted, kissed me again and then thrust his tongue back into my mouth.

I shuddered and then pushed against his shoulders again.

By the time we broke apart for air, he’d nearly incinerated my desire to continue the pursuit of Deandre. Nearly but not quite. With Deandre I knew what I’d have–if I ever managed to land his handsome ass. With John not so much. Besides, my interest in Deandre, albeit mainly physical, wasn’t so shallow it could be vanished by a few kisses–no matter how heatedly delicious they were. At least that's what I assured myself.

We stared at each other in silence. In those moments, I vacillated between the desire to rein in Deandre and the urge to kick his ass to the curb and turning my full attention to the sexy, delectable John Reddorn. But not for a fling. At thirty-two, it was time I thought about a serious relationship that would lead to marriage in the not too distant future.

Deandre. You have to keep your main interest on Deandre. John’s made it clear he’s not interested in anything serious with you. The most you can expect from him is a fling. And if you’re not careful, you could end up hurt when he decides to seek so-called friendship with another woman and leaves you licking your wounds.
Recalling the feel of his mouth and tongue, not to mention the hint of his cock stirring, I felt heat rise to my face.

At the moment I didn’t owe any man allegiance. There was no reason I shouldn’t do what men in general and my step-brothers in particular did all the time–have my cake and eat it too. Or in other words see them both.

I slipped my arm through his and looked up at him. "Wow. A man who knows what to do with his tongue doing a real kiss is sexy as hell." I fanned myself with my free hand. "That was beyond hot. If that’s how you kiss when you’re not interested, I’d love to be on the receiving end when you are."

His jaw clenched and he looked away from me, breathing deeply.

Not interested my ass. Maybe he’d never slept with a black woman or a full–figured one. Hell, maybe he wanted to bed someone other than the pretty women he probably usually slept with. Whatever the reason for his sudden about face, I was tempted to take full advantage of it.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to take me to bed, Johnny mine."

He turned to look at me again. "And if I did?"

"Do you?" I prompted.

He disengaged his arm from mine and stepped away from me. "I told you what I wanted from you."

Was he serious after that question
and
scorching the taste of his mouth on mine and probably leaving palm prints on my ass? "So you did." And I’d believe it if he hadn’t just practically kissed the taste out of my mouth. I smiled at him and walked towards the French doors where Grace now stood with an I–told–you–so look on her pretty face. Clearly she’d seen those sizzling kisses and our bump and grind action.

I winked at her before glancing over my shoulder at John. "Coming?"

He inhaled, nodded curtly and walked across the patio to join me.

"Oh, come on, Johnny. Why so glum? I know you were only pretending to enjoy kissing me but if you keep this up you’ll give me a complex. If that happens, you’ll have to really be my man because you will have ruined me for every other man. You don’t want that. Do you? Imagine the horror of having to bed me every time I need a man to hold me. And Johnny, I like being held on a regular basis."

He stared at me and then suddenly laughed.

I leaned against him and looked up into his dark gaze. "That really was hot. I’ll probably have to scrub the skin off my mouth to get the taste of yours off my lips."

"You’re exaggerating."

The hell I was but I could see he had a game plan. If I wanted a fling with him, I’d have to play along. "Maybe just a little," I said.

He narrowed his gaze and looked sexily annoyed.

I suppressed a smile. "Let’s do it again to see which one of us is right."

"No," he said curtly, stepping back.

"Party pooper."

"You should be careful what you wish for, Amber."

"I’m generally careful, but that doesn’t stop my knowing what I want and going after it."

"And just what is it that you think you want from me?"

Your big, nude body pinning mine to a bed seconds before you push my legs apart and slide deep inside me
. I arched a brow. "I told you what I wanted, John; for you to pretend to be my man so I can reel in Deandre."

He stared at me.

He looked annoyed. About what I hadn't a clue. Deciding that there probably wasn’t going to be any pleasing him, I stared back briefly before turning away.

"Reel in this!" He said and slapped my ass.

"Hey!" Surprised, I swung around to stare at him. "What was that for?"

He shrugged. "That was for his benefit," he said, his lids sweeping down to hide his expression.

Even if Deandre was still standing at the French doors watching us, I knew or at least hoped John had slapped my ass because he wanted to. "Okay. I admit my flirting with you has been over the top but I blame that on the two glasses of wine I had."

"Do you?"

Clearly I needed to do some damage control or risk having him think I was a floozy. "Yes," I said firmly. "I’m normally very friendly but I don’t go around trading spit and allowing strange men to touch my rear within an hour of meeting him."

"You didn't allow me to touch it, you encouraged me to."

I shrugged. "It was the wine," I insisted.
And dancing so close to your big, hard body.

I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. And that rankled because I didn’t want him to think I was easy. "And I’ve come to my senses," I added.

"Meaning what, Amber?"

So he wanted it spelled out. "Meaning you slap my booty again and you own it," I warned.

"Really?"

"Really."

He waited until I started into the living room before I felt his palm stinging my ass again.

When I half-turned, he whirled me into his embrace.

I caught my breath, certain I felt the outline of his cock along his thigh. We stared at each other.

When he didn't speak, I wrestled my desire under control and spoke. "That’s it buster. You are now the proud owner of my big, round brown ass. Satisfied?"

He bent his head to brush his mouth against my ear. "That depends."

I inhaled slowly as I tried to calculate the odds of our enjoying an extended fling without damaging my slim prospects with Deandre. "On what?"

I felt that wicked tongue of his probing my earlobe. "On how big, round, and brown your booty actually is."

Amber, girl, you’d better know what you’re doing before you respond. Deandre has already seen you kissing him–as has everyone else who was facing the patio. If you continue flirting with him you might blow any remaining chance you have with Deandre.

Despite the dictates of commonsense, I had to admit that I found it difficult not to flirt with him. "Judge for yourself." I reached behind me to move his hand down from my back to rest on my ass. "What do you think, Johnny mine? Does this feel like I have enough junk in my trunk to make you happy to be the proud owner of my booty?"

"Shit." He inhaled slowly before he spoke again. "You don’t want to know what I’m thinking," he said and caressed my ass.

I struggled to keep my heartbeat from speeding up. "Considering that I came here hoping to catch Deandre’s attention, you’re probably right."

He narrowed his gaze and compressed his lips. "Why the hell would you want a man you have to chase?"

"I have news for you, John. I nearly always have to chase the men I want," I was amazed to hear myself admit.

"Why?"

He looked and sounded so puzzled that I could have kissed him again. "I’m not stop-the-presses-attractive, supermodel thin or surgically enhanced in anyway."

He shrugged. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

He really knew how to make a very ordinary woman feel good about herself. "Given what most men seem to prefer, it is. What you see is what I was born with and that often leaves the deck stacked against me."

"You sound as if you’ve been seeing men who probably aren’t worth knowing or dating."

"Maybe not, but a woman gets lonely."

He paused before replying. "You appear to have a personality and self-confidence that can be far more advantageous than a pretty face and an empty head. You just have to meet the right man, Amber."

"Yeah? And who would that be?"

"I have no idea, but I doubt it’s him."

Or me.
Of course he didn’t speak the last two words aloud but he sure as hell projected them at me.

"Do such men exist?"

"Of course they do. I know a number of men capable and willing to date a woman who has a pleasing personality and doesn’t depend on her looks to get by."

And if that didn't tell me he thought I was plain nothing would. "What about you, John? Are you capable and willing to do that?"

He gave me a wary look. "I told you what I wanted from you."

His quick answer disappointed and annoyed me. "You’ve been caressing my ass during this entire conversation so forgive me if I’m a little confused."

He shook his head and released me. "I have no interest in getting involved in a serious relationship and I won’t insult you by trying to treat you like my latest easy lay."

"So you’re only interested in friendship or casual sex from a woman? Can’t a woman be both your friend and your lover?"

"I prefer to keep the two separate."

"Why?"

"I’ve never met anyone capable of meeting both needs."

He was letting me know up front he had no long-term interest in me but maybe I could tempt him into a sexual affair. But as hard as he clearly intended to make me work for it, if I managed to land in his bed I was not settling for one damned night. 

The lights dimmed suddenly. When I glanced around I saw Deandre heading in our direction. 

"What the hell does he want?"

"I think he wants me," I said.

"Fuck!"

"Actually, I’m hoping that’s what he has in mind," I said, trying to get a rise out of John.

"Why?" He stared at me. "I know a few guys I could introduce you to. You don’t have to settle for his shit."

"I don’t consider him settling, John."

His nostrils flared. "It is if he makes you chase him."

"Isn’t that what you’re going to do?"

Before he could respond, Deandre paused in front of us and smiled at me. "I believe this is my dance, Amber," he said and extended his hand.

My heartbeat quickened. There was an unmistakable glimmer of romantic interest in his gaze. Finally. I smiled and placed my hand in his. "I believe you’re right."

I heard John inhale sharply and turned to look at him. He’d lowered his lids but clenched his teeth so his jaw looked like a rigid line. The sexy darling was definitely in the grip of the green-eyed monster.

I was torn between slow dancing with Deandre and staying with John. But only briefly. I’d worked too hard for this moment with Deandre not to take full advantage of it. "Be right back," I said as Deandre drew me into his arms.

"Not right back," Deandre corrected.

I liked the sound of that.

"Don’t rush on my account."

Noting the cool tone in John’s voice, I glanced over my shoulder as Deandre swept me onto the dance floor and away from John. Oh no. I stifled a sigh as I saw John turn and quickly walk out the French doors and across the patio.

Damn. Mom had been right. I couldn’t buy Deandre’s interest until he’s seen me in a lip lock with John who had now flown the damned coop. Call me greedy but now that I had Deandre’s attention, I wanted John’s. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it instead or in addition to Deandre's. I just knew I wanted John's interest.

"Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend, Amber," Deandre said, drawing me into a closer embrace.

Oh hell yeah. He was a big, attractive male with miles of smooth dark skin, a sexy baritone and bedroom eyes. Finally, I was on the receiving end of his charm. "As a matter of fact, we were discussing that possibility tonight," I said.

"I understood you weren’t dating anyone seriously."

I resisted the urge to ask where he came by that understanding. He'd clearly been talking to Grace. "He’s nice to be around."

"Please tell me you’re not seriously considering dating him."

"Why shouldn’t I? He’s single, straight, and handsome."
Like you.

He frowned and I just knew I was not going to like what he said next. "Because he clearly doesn’t think much of you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know it’s none of my business, but he stuck his tongue down your throat and fondled your ass in public. Those aren’t the actions of a man who respects a woman."

My cheeks burned and I struggled to conceal my embarrassment. He made my out of control behavior with John sound like what it was—shameless. I took a measure of comfort from the fact that jealousy probably prompted Deandre's words.