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Everything about that night was a fluke. Floating my interest by Gio at dinner the week before, prompting him to offer me carte blanche for a weekend. His offer included giving me the keys to his club to check it out for myself before committing to becoming a member.
If I hadn’t succumbed and gone, I never would have seen my little lamb the night Gio organized an orgy. She was so out of place, so modestly dressed, so…temptingly corruptible. The instant I saw her, faint music pulsed beneath my skin; a dearly missed presence.
Yet, I stayed away without exchanging a word with her. Of course I did. She was the type of woman who could make me rethink my dreams and I was already in a bad headspace, debating if I had it in me to continue on my current path. A couple musical bars wasn’t enough of a reason. However, my next encounter with the innocent temptress found me too weak to resist her.
Fate put her in my path again. I had to act. Control and I aren’t the best of friends, and that night I needed the distraction in spades, music that only I could hear notwithstanding.
Although she didn’t know it, I had left something behind that I needed. Unlike her, having the keys meant I wasn’t breaking any laws. But she was so bad at trying to break in she never would have gotten anywhere without my help. The longer I stayed in her company, the more alluring the faded melody became.
Her need brought out the animal inside me, and I demanded payment from her when I shouldn’t have. If I had left her alone, maybe I wouldn’t be tormented by thoughts of her now, wouldn’t see her in images in a stranger’s sketchbook, wouldn’t hear the hopeful chords that could turn my life around, and definitely wouldn’t contemplate reaching out to Gio to find out who she is for another shot.
So much for coming to terms with never seeing her again.
I go to the kitchen for a cold bottle of water when three distinct feminine voices approach my new home. I instantly recognize two of them, having had to field over an hour of questioning. The third also sounds familiar, but my brain freezes at the impossibility. The last time I heard that voice, her moans nestled their way into my long-term memory and making a home there.
My heart races and the fine hairs on my arms rise. Please don’t let me be mistaken. Let it be her. I rush to open the door, anticipating their presence. They turn the bend, but the woman I need to see to confirm whether today will be my new favorite holiday, trumping Christmas and my birthday—which should be a nationally recognized holiday in my humble opinion—is hidden behind the two bombshells.
I tamp down my impatience, but haunting strings flirt with the hope flickering in my chest.
“Baby girl, hold your judgment until you meet him. You’ll easily fall in love with him.” The woman in skin-tight clothes says.
“Glamma, I think you need a new hobby,” the woman who I need to see with a desire bigger than closing the biggest deal of my life says.
A faint melody plays in my mind, getting stronger with every second, heartbreakingly sweet and desperate.
Finally,finally, the two older women part, giving me an unobstructed view that doesn’t disappoint. The heavens shine their light upon her glowing brown skin, and the conservative dress she wears does nothing to hide the sexy body beneath. A body I can’t wait to unwrap and introduce to many sinful pleasures. Meanwhile, a heart-pumping drum solo shakes my very foundation.
As if she can read my mind, her eyes widen in shocked recognition.
With a thankful prayer to the fates, I welcome every opportunity this single moment will open for me. Music unlike anything I’ve ever written thrums beneath my skin in anticipation of a nebulous future. I don’t know what our meeting portends, but I won’t dismiss her. She is the key to everything I am meant to be.
I can’t help the wicked smile that spreads my lips, already tasting her on my tongue. “Well, if it isn’t the little lamb,” I say.
CHAPTERTHREE
Kenya
“Is this a joke? Because it is not a very good one.” I don’t know who I’m asking.
My grandmothers? The stranger I’m not supposed to lay eyes on until I’m resting peacefully in my coffin and far away from embarrassment’s harmful effects? Or, all the gods I’ve ever prayed to for help in my short life? Either way, the amusement filling those emerald eyes is unwelcome.
You might want to have a word with your pussy about that. She’s already got the doors open, the welcome mat set, and is cooking him a five-course meal as we speak. Five courses of WAP.
“You’ve met Cameron?” G-mama asks, a speculative gleam in her eye.
“Uh.” I hesitate, wishing Keating would shut up. Lying isn’t an option for me. Not since one horrible night that turned my life upside down.
“Yes, but we didn’t exchange names,” the man whose name I’m trying hard not to remember is Cameron, says at the same time.
Why does he have to have a sexy name to go with the rest of him? The universe wants to end me, I’m sure of it. He folds his arms, drawing my attention to his sleeves to his elbows and his exposed corded forearms. My nipples bead under my clothes. Now I have to cross my arms over my chest to hide my reaction from everyone in the room. Yep, the universe has it out for me.
“No name exchange, but you call her little lamb? I need deets,” Glamma pushes her way into the bungalow and makes herself at home on the couch, crossing her legs in a way that emphasizes her hips.
I tear my gaze away from him. Otherwise, the few functioning brain cells I have will jump ship and join my mental alter ego. “Listen…um…”
“Cameron.”
“Right, Cameron. My grandmothers can’t actually rent this place to you.”
