"Are you here on business?" I asked Josh once we were on the move again.I powered back the car seat and relaxed, gazing longingly at the gorgeous hunk of man who handled the steering wheel with easy grace. Replete, content, and fortified with wine, I was once again enjoying my man in black."Yes and no.""Where do you stay when you're here?" I queried, knowing exactly where I wanted this conversation to take me.His cell phone chimed and he snatched it from its holder and attended to his received email or whatever it was, while maneuvering the vehicle single-handedly and answering my question. "Depends. I have a loft here on the west side. My brother, Mark, owns a hotel on the south side where I have a penthouse suite reserved. And I like Roosevelt.""Your brother owns a hotel?" Of course he does."Yes.""Which hotel?"A tic jumped in his jaw as he read his phone screen, intermittently glancing up at the road. Like granite, his face instantly hardened and he threw the phone down in t
Elevator doors slid open and I was led directly into a cold, high-ceilinged, glass walled penthouse. Not my preferred style of living."Can I get you a drink?" Josh asked as I glanced around. "Merlot." His footsteps drifted across the wooden floor, away from me, while my eyes idly drifted around his penthouse, taking in the open-floor-plan massiveness. What wasn't glass was either black or white. Black furniture. White walls. Black and white paintings.I glanced over to the kitchen where Josh stood pouring a glass of wine. Stainless steel, gourmet style. I caught sight of a bubble chair hanging from the ceiling and went to have a seat in it. A huge, fluffy, white pelt laid beneath it. I pushed back and forth in the bubble chair as I heard Josh’s footfalls approaching. "You don't want to look around?" He handed me the glass of wine."No." I'd like to look down your pants."You comfortable in this thing?" He sunk to his knees in front of me on the pelt."Yes." And I'd be even more
No one knew his beginning or his ending. And he divulged only so much about himself. People could only assume he was somewhere from the west side, where the wealthy lived, but definitely not from this neighborhood.He was too polished, too genteel, too respectable, too educated. The clothes he wore were what we here in the neighborhood only saw in magazines and dreamt of being able to afford one day. He owned all the latest gadgets advertised on television. And most times, months before a cool gadget even hit the stores, he already had it.No one envied or spoke ill of him. Even the gangsters in the ‘hood kept their distance, as if warned off. He treated everyone with utter respect and kindness, so he was widely loved.Every week, by late Friday—as he only came around on the weekends—the neighborhood girls would be atwitter of his arrival, so they'd style themselves, flaunting in the skimpiest of outfits—whatever it took to catch the sparkling blue eyes of the mysterious rich boy from
Someone was watching me. I fought against the darkness and woke up to Josh sitting on the edge of the bed in black slacks and a T-shirt, watching me."Thought you'd never wake up."I stretched. "What time is it?""Noon," he answered. "You’ve slept for fourteen hours." "And I still feel like I haven’t slept at all. I felt so off and weird when I woke earlier.And I had this dream that felt so real…”"What was this dream about?""That’s the thing, I can’t remember it. Yet my mind won’t let it go."He took my hand in his and shifted his gaze out to the balcony. "Who's Nelly?""What?""You kept murmuring the name 'Nelly' in your sleep. This someone I need to know about?" His gaze remained out to the balcony, eyes narrowed, expression distraught."I was dreaming, Josh. And I honestly don’t remember what about. The hell do I know who’s ‘Nelly’?"Silence ensued as he circled his thumb in my lifeline.Abruptly, my head felt as if it’d been hit with a brick as a severe headache smacked me.J
I traced a finger around his lips. "Yep. And I was pissed at myself. Pissed at you because I wanted you so much. I've wanted you since we first talked in the club. Fantasized about you. There’s this…current between us. And something very familiar about you that tethers me to you. I...I can't explain it."Josh watched for a few seconds, unblinking. Then he smirked. "You fantasized about me?"Shyness suddenly crept over me. "Yes.""What was I doing in your fantasies?" he drawled, flashing me a wicked grin."Oiling baby chickens…"Josh broke into a laugh. "What?" "I’m kidding.” I smiled back at him. “You were doing things to me, Nelson. Things that I liked. Things that I loved. Feel-good things. Orgasmic things.""Like?"Touching my forefinger to my lips, I whispered, "You kissed me very gently, here."Josh brushed his soft lips against mine. "Like that?""Exactly like that." I breathed. "Then you let me taste your tongue."He kissed me, and I opened for him, granting his tongue permiss
"Nelly, my fingers hurt,” I complained as I worked on the last cornrow. “Your hair's just too damn long."Plaiting Nelly’s hair was usually a challenge, because it was too soft and silky to grasp from his scalp. And then there was the length—around fourteen inches of hair. I wasn't sure why he liked his hair plaited, anyway. Maybe it made him appear tougher and more street? Or maybe he just liked having my hands in his hair."You don't like my hair long? You wanna cut it?" Nelly asked, always ready to please me even when my complaints were trivial. He made me feel as though he lived and breathed only for me."But then you'd lose all your strength and beauty, my dear Samson," I teased. "I'm no Delilah, I could never do that to you.""So you like it then?""Of course I do. It just takes a hell of a long time to plait," I said. "It's my fingers that protest."Nelly was sitting cross-legged on a thick red blanket while I knelt behind him grooming his hair. We were at our favorite spot—un
Someone was shaking me awake. I reluctantly opened my eyes and was staring right into Josh’s. Again. He was on his side, propped up on one elbow.Something was tickling my cheeks. Tears. I was crying. I was crying in my sleep?"Sorry to wake you, but you were crying so hard I couldn't…" Josh tried to smile but a torn expression marred his features."It's okay,” I whispered. “Thanks for waking me.""Was it a bad dream?" I closed my eyes and tried to remember what my dream was about. There were flashes of the neighborhood I grew up in, the giant oak tree I used to sketch under, the park…there was this person, hugging me, but his face was obscured. The flickers were quick, I had them, and then they were gone. Zilch. "No.""Wanna tell me about it?""I-I can’t remember any of it, Josh."With a sigh, he flopped back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. "You were dreaming about Nelly again," he said. "Saying his name over and over. Saying you loved him." He looked pained, as though whatever I'
“Tell me his name, Dalia," Michael demanded when I entered his car and he saw my face. My tears ran freely. “Tell me the asshole’s name!”"Chill, Michael.”Michael craned his neck to glare up at the skyscraper building through his windshield. "What did rich boy do? Say the word, Dalia. Say the word and I’ll deliver his head to you John the Baptist style.”"Michael, I promise you, I'm good," I tried to defuse him. "He didn't do anything to me.I just...needed space and snuck out. That’s all."He didn’t believe me. It was obvious. "Y’sure?""Yes." I added a nod with the word for emphasis. "Is Julia at your place?"Michael finally pulled away from the curb. At this ungodly hour, the roads were dark and unpopulated. "Yeah. Been there all week.""And you're out swindling?""Have to make that green, baby girl," he said through his sexy Hispanic accent. His basketball cap barely sat on the side of his head."I'm gonna sleep at your house tonight then. But stop at my apartment first so I can
We drove home from the dinner in painful silence.Josh hadn’t said a word to me since my tiff with his father. Was I in trouble for this bullshit? Would he leave me because I showed no respect to his father—his idol?The day was starting to wear on me.Easing into his garage, he parked, pulled up the handbrake, and turned to look at me. Expression was unrevealing.I braced myself for the imminent explosion. Strange that hours ago I'd stared down the one man he, Josh, was afraid of, yet I was intimidated by the son.Saying nothing, he just watched me, inexpressive.My eyes dropped to my fingers restlessly fiddling with the edges of my purse."Look at me, Dalia," he said. "You just stared down one of the most domineering men I've ever known. A man who has intimidated some of the world’s most powerfulbusinessmen to capitulate to his demands. And you can’t look at me?" I didn't look up at him when I quietly asked, "Are you mad at me?" Silence.When I risked a peek up at him, the apathy r
The great room was packed with Nelsons, as we all waited an annoyingly long time for the dinner to start. Like we were at the White House waiting for the President’s arrival or something.Centuries later, a wiry middle-aged butler emerged through a set of double doors on the right. Holding a wand that seemed much too heavy for his proportion, he lifted it high before slicing it through the air and hitting it against a huge gold gong I hadn't noticed was there. The blow elicited a loud, grating bang, ceasing all chattering and yanking everyone's attention."Good evening, everyone," he said resoundingly. "Dinner is served." He stepped aside and gestured to double doors that were immediately pulled open by another pair of butlers. All the Nelsons formed a single file line and walked through the doors.I folded my lips and followed, trying with tenuous control to not collapse into a fit of laughter at this family's over-the-top absurdities. A small giggle managed to escape and Josh glance
Taking me by surprise, Melinda leaned over and clasped my hand. "Do you really love him? Men change, you know. They can change so suddenly that—""Of course she doesn't," said a voice behind me, which I now recognized as Princess’s. "She has a gold eye, and Brother's a fool for thinking she actually loves him.""Princess," Melinda warned with an irritated wave. "Ignore her," she whispered conspiratorially. "Nothing annoys her more."I plastered a smile on my face. "It's okay. I'm used to antagonism. Where’s your powder room?""Left.” She gave me an apologetic smile. "At the very end of the hall." Grateful to get away, I thanked her and took off.There were paintings of each family member along the hall walls. How much more archaic could this family get?As I sidled down the dragging hall, I heard harsh yelling coming from behind one of the doors on the right, which was left ajar, and I edged closer to eavesdrop."...and my last words to you Henry: 'punishment is made for mockers and t
The ride to the Nelson estate was long, but the green scenery made up for it. I hadn’t realize I’d been slouching with my face glued out the window until Josh pulled up outside a stately, wrought-iron gate and numbered the security monitor on a red-bricked column.We drove through the gates and down a narrow road, passing tall, flourishing trees. Between the intermittent spacing of the trees, I could see acres of verdant land rolling on and on.Two minutes of driving and the house was still out of view. One more minute of driving and we were outside another baronial gate. Again he numbered the security monitor and drove us through."All that land behind us belongs to your father?""Yep.""Are we gonna get to the house anytime this year?"He chuckled. “We’re here."We drove along a sinuous path lined with towering palm trees until the palatial house came into view. An imposing, three story, white mansion with immense carved columns, French windows and doors. Put simply, the place was i
We arrive in San Francisco late Saturday evening.Huge was too small of a word to describe Josh’s all-glass home. Aesthetically decorated with white furniture and elaborate pieces of art, I didn’t know where to look first.From any room, kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedroom, I could see the city lights twinkling all around because the pad was all-glass.I’d grumbled a bit about privacy, but when I stepped outside the long-lipped wraparound balcony, I realized the glass was one-way. Nothing could be seen from the outside looking in. Strewn about were white leather lounge chairs and tall decorative plants."You like?" I spun around and found Josh at the sliding glass doors which led out to the balcony. Shirt, shoes and socks all gone. Top button his jeans undone, flashing me a peek at his gray boxers."Y-yes," I rasped, totally, completely affected by the delicious sight of him."It's...huge.""Good. Because I had it redecorated, hoping you’d like it."A stumpy, bald guy dressed in
When I next allowed myself to open my eyes, night had fallen, and strong arms were around me. They weren’t Julia’s. They were arms I didn’t want to embrace me, to give me solace from a grief said arms could’ve prevented. Julia was nowhere in sight. Launching up in a sitting position, I called out for her. She needed me like I needed her. I couldn’t allow her to mourn alone. She had no idea what grief could do to her. She wouldn’t know how to deal with it. “Julia!” I called out again, but my voice was so hoarse I could hardly hear myself. Josh’s hard frame was right there behind me, his big, masculine arms trying to ease me back down to the carpet. “Dalia, calm down. Julia left.” Anger surged through me as I twisted around to glare at him. He was shirtless and look a tad weary. I tried not to let his nakedness distract me. “How could you let her leave? Are you that goddamn insensitive?” Though I wanted it to sound like a shout, I failed, because I almost had no voice, my throat
"Will you be at the family dinner, too?"My question was directed to the svelte, brown-eyed Lori who was trying to stuff me into a lime-green gown as we made a mess of Josh’s apartment. I liked her, because she wasn't uppity. Neither did she bombard me with questions or try to pry into her cousin's privacy.Julia, who popped in an hour ago with the intention of us going shopping, believing Lori wouldn’t have anything I’d like, was rummaging sparkly-eyed through Lori’s racks. She had no upcoming functions that required formal wear, yet she’d set aside four gowns she decided she had to have. I, on the other hand, had yet to find a gown I liked."God, no!" Lori shrieked, a horrified expression on her face. "I can't stand UncleNelson.""Is he that bad?""Yes." She added a slow nod to emphasize. "But it's not just him. It's the whole setting and requirements for the dinner. I mean, the whole purpose is to have dinner and catch up with family. I don't see why all the formality is needed, g
Josh was watching me sleep.I was in limbo between sleep and wake, but I still could feel his eyes on me. And I was right. When I chose to be awake instead of asleep, there those blue eyes were, fixed on me.On his side. Hands tucked under his cheek. Unkempt hair, stubble shadowing his squared jaw, and still he looked as glorious as ever. A ray of sun sneaking through the blinds laced across his features. No one should be allowed to look this damn good in the morning.His lips curved up. "Hi."Turning on my side, I mirrored his actions—though I was pretty sure I didn't look half as good as he did at the moment. "You’re giving me the Edward, watching me sleep."“Think I’m creepy?”“Nope. I think it’s sexy.”He made a face. “Okay, that just…doesn’t…sound right.”A giggle escaped as I stretched. "Whatever. You’re sexy. Deal with it.”He edged closer to me but didn't touch me. Just the heat of our bodies mingled. "You have any idea how happy I am right now? To have you back in my life. Yo
There's only darkness and the almost imperceptible humming of the air conditioner. I opened my eyes, stretched; a smile creeping across my face when I realized I was in Josh's bed.Josh wasn’t there, though.Glancing over at the bedside clock I saw it was long after midnight. My smile melted as my heart pounded loud in my ears. Déjá vu attacked me.Scrambling out of bed, I yanked off the sheet and draped it around me then rushed into the bathroom. He wasn't there.I darted out onto the balcony. Not there. Trying not to trip over the bunched-up sheet, I sprinted downstairs.My heart sagged in relief.Josh in the living area, humming to the sound of Morgan Heritage’s She’s Still Loving Me playing softly over the integrated speakers, while cleaning up shards of the vase he'd broken earlier.As if sensing me, he abruptly glanced up and smiled. But that smile quickly morphed into a frown. "Dalia, what's wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice. "Shit, you don't want to leave, do you? Stay.