Body By Night (12 page)

D’Andra giggled as she took the dessert bowl and napkin Night offered. He feigned hurt as he sat down beside her.

“What, you’re not mistaking me for an English dandy?”

“Uh, not at all, not for a nanosecond even. Don’t quit your day job.” She took a bite of the fruit mixture. “Um, this is good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“This is just fruit; nothing else?”

“Well, I did add a little sumpin’ sumpin’ to the mix; but there are some things a chef keeps to himself.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. The bananas are my favorite.”

“Bananas? I don’t think I have any.” D’Andra poked her fork through her bowl’s contents.

“Oh, you’ve got to try the bananas. My secret ingredient really works great on them.”

He placed a piece of banana with a syrupy substance onto his spoon and turned to D’Andra.

She opened her mouth for the bite. “Oh my goodness, Night; that’s delicious.” She closed her eyes and chewed, lost in the taste of gooey goodness.

Night watched D’Andra as if she, not the fruit dish, was the dessert. Her lips had intrigued him from the first day they met. And now he imagined joining his with hers, sweetened all the more by his maple syrup secret.

D’Andra’s eyes opened to find Night’s fastened on her lips. She licked them self-consciously.

“You missed some,” he said, taking his finger and wiping a trace of juice from the side of her mouth. “Here.” He placed his finger next to her mouth.

She couldn’t resist. She turned her head slightly and tentatively licked the tip of his finger.

“I don’t think you got it all,” he whispered, as he gently forced his finger into her mouth.

She couldn’t pull her eyes from his as she gently sucked his large index digit. Even as she did so, her dream, where he licked the moisture from her sweat-drenched body, came into her mind. She knew she should, but she couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Weeks of thinly restrained sexual tension demanded attention and would not be denied.

Soon his tongue replaced his finger and he ravished her mouth. A rush of heat showered them both; hot and wanting. Night’s hand found its way under the shirt that D’Andra wore and under the bra that held treasure. D’Andra’s intake of breath was his reward at finding and massaging a pleasingly plump nipple that quickly hardened in his hand. Suddenly his finger was not enough; he wanted to taste her. With one quick movement, he removed her top, and with a singular sense of purpose, unhooked her front-latching bra. The sight that greeted him almost took his breath away.

“You’re beautiful,” he said before taking one nipple into his mouth while kneading the other. He showered her with kisses; from her breast to her temples, down her cheek and her neck, all the while touching, kneading her silky soft skin. He wanted to plunge himself inside her, his months of celibacy now painfully obvious, his lack of sexual release making him reckless with want. He guided D’Andra to a lying position, even as he continued to plunder her mouth with his tongue. D’Andra was a big girl, but he handled her as if she were a ballerina.

D’Andra was hot all over, moaning with every lap of Night’s tongue. He felt so good; used his mouth so well. Her hands couldn’t get enough of the smooth skin over hard muscle. She gripped the butt she’d admired from the first and was not disappointed. It was firm and round and powerful. Already it was leading the way into the familiar dance of love and D’Andra’s hips joined in immediate sync. Night rubbed his hands over D’Andra’s belly roll in a way that made it feel sexy to her, even as his hand tugged at her shorts, looking for a soft thatch to land. D’Andra’s hands followed of their own volition, followed to the hard piece of muscle pulsating against her upper thigh. She tugged at his shorts, and then she remembered.

“Night, stop, I-I-I can’t do this.” She turned her head to deflect his kisses. They landed softly on her ear and the side of her neck. “Please, Night, I’m sorry, please.”

Somewhere in the distance, Night heard a voice.
Stop? Sorry? Can’t?
He shook his head as he tried to wrap his mind around a negative sounding word on an excruciatingly positive experience. He felt as if he were on his way to heaven and D’Andra’s body was the cloud; soft and cushy, warm and inviting. His manhood jumped in anticipation, even as he felt D’Andra’s hands on his shoulders, trying to push him up and off her.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

Night was silent as he sat up, closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing.

“Oh my gosh,” D’Andra exclaimed. Her hands were not big enough to hold all she was trying to hide—her naked torso.

“The window, Night! Where’s my…your…where’s that shirt? Where’s my bra?”

Looking at D’Andra try and decide which side of her breast she was going to try and cover with which hand was the levity he needed to bring the blood back from his lower head to his upper one. He laughed as he pulled the shirt out from where it had been scrunched beneath him and handed it to her. A quick search found the bra on the floor. D’Andra hurriedly put both on.

“Don’t worry, doll; those are one-way windows. No one can see your loveliness…besides me.”

D’Andra couldn’t believe that she’d let happen what had almost just happened. She needed to get outside so she could breathe and think. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Why do you keep apologizing? The only thing I’m sorry about is that you’re leaving.”

D’Andra explained as she reached for the gym clothes she’d changed out of and her purse. “I, we shouldn’t have done that. I’m focused on getting myself together on several levels and you’re focused on your gym. I appreciate your helping me work out and your friendship. Anything more will only complicate things.”

“All right, then,” he said as he walked a hurrying D’Andra to the door. “I’ll see you Thursday?”

“Yeah, see you then.” She didn’t trust herself to even look back as she spoke, afraid her body would betray her and make her words a lie. She wanted nothing more than to finish what they started, to spend forever in Night’s strong arms.

Night watched D’Andra scurry into her Suburban and head down the street like somebody was chasing her. His eyes narrowed even as a smile appeared, then widened.
Yeah, you’d better run.
Because somebody was after her; and somebody was determined to catch her and make her his, complications be damned. It was as simple as that.

“You were right. There’s a definite attraction going on between Night and me.” D’Andra had purposely waited until her lunch break in the nearly empty cafeteria so her conversation with Elaine wouldn’t be overheard.

Elaine dropped her fork. “I knew it! I knew there was something there.” She leaned forward in her chair, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Well c’mon chick; out with it. Did you screw? Was it good? Was he big, like the cock you saw in your dream?”

D’Andra laughed at her friend’s inquisitiveness. From someone else, she may have been offended, but aside from the soaps, reality TV and an occasional movie, her job at Heavenly Haven provided the spice to Elaine’s steady, predictable life.

“Put a pause to your pen, Nora Roberts; that chapter has yet to be written.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, D’Andra, what are you waiting for?”

The microwave dinged, giving D’Andra time to gather her thoughts while she retrieved her Subway sandwich. She’d been asking herself the same question all evening. For all her “it’s all about me” talk, D’Andra wanted to be with Night; to hell with the consequences. For the past few hours, none of her reasons for choosing to be alone made sense.

“I’m waiting until I’ve accomplished my immediate goals,” she said, pausing again to take a bite of her chicken sandwich. “I’m working hard to get in shape—”

“But there’s something hard you’re not working,” Elaine interjected.

D’Andra ignored her. “I’m looking for a place to move.
And
I made another major decision I haven’t told you about.”

“There’s more?”

“I’m going back to school.”

D’Andra briefly filled Elaine in on the research she’d done which led to the decision to return to school and become a certified dietician.

“With my associate’s in nursing and this BSN, the sky’s the limit to what I could do. There’s counseling, teaching, training, lectures, seminars, writing; all ways I can help educate our community, well, women in general and Black women in particular, to the dangers of heart disease and other illnesses brought on largely by diet and stress.”

“Those are excellent goals,” Elaine said sincerely. “You know I’ve always admired your tenacity and your drive. I still do. But I also worry about you. You’re always looking out for other people; I guess I feel the need to look out for you.

“All I’m saying is while you’re on the road to this new you, leave room for someone else to travel with you. You’ve wanted a good man and you deserve to let that happen. But since that fiasco with Charles, you’ve been so leery about opening up, even a little bit…just don’t fail to see the forest for the trees, that’s all I’m saying.”

“And I hear you, girl. It’s just not so easy, you know? That situation with Charles and the company which shall remain nameless, that was some mess for a sistah to go through.”

“But don’t you see that as long as you deny yourself, they’re still putting you through it?”

“But I’m not…okay maybe I am but for a reason.”

“I know, it’s all about you.”

“Exactly. You don’t understand what it’s like; you haven’t had to deal with this kind of drama in a decade or more.”

“Listen sister, married life is not without drama, trust me on that count.”

“Please; what type of drama have you and Max experienced lately?”

Elaine paused, in serious thought for a moment. “Well, there was that stopped-up drain he took forever to fix.”

“Oh my God,” D’Andra said dramatically.

“And those two weeks he spent on the couch last year when I found out he’d looked up his high school sweetheart on Classmates.com.”

“Call the popo, I think you’re gonna need backup,” D’Andra countered sarcastically.

But she appreciated Elaine’s positive attitude, especially knowing of more serious tests to her friend’s marriage than had been brought up at the table. Like the two miscarriages Elaine had before little Seth was born. Or the horrific battle with Alzheimer’s disease that put strain on everyone before Max’s father died last year.

“All right, I give,” Elaine conceded. “You’ve made your point. I am a lucky girl, and I’m thankful for that every day. I just want you to be lucky too.”

“Maybe I will be.”

“I’m crossing my fingers.”

D’Andra’s heart warmed as she watched her loyal, red-headed, freckle-faced friend head back to the nurse’s station. “From your lips to God’s ears,” she whispered.

And to yours,
God whispered back.

D’Andra pulled up to Night’s house with a new attitude. She’d taken Elaine’s advice to heart, and while she wasn’t ready to go in and seduce the man straight out, she had promised herself to stop hiding behind excuses and fear, to live life a little more dangerously than she had in the past. What had Elaine said as they left work this morning? Nothing ventured nothing gained?

D’Andra reached for her towel, water bottle and purse, and headed up the walk to Night’s front door. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since their impromptu rendezvous two nights before and her heart beat with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Would he greet her as if nothing had happened on Tuesday? Would he be sorry their friendship had gone to that level? Would there now be discomfort in their dealings as client and trainer? Would he refuse to open the door?

Night had watched the clock since noon, willing the hands to move faster toward his four o’clock work-out session with D’Andra. He’d thought of little else, and certainly no one else, since their session two days ago. He’d replayed their tryst in his head, time and again, and all he wanted to do was see if the real thing was as sweet as he remembered. He didn’t even give her time to ring the bell before flinging the door open.

“Get in here, doll,” he murmured, reaching for D’Andra’s hand and closing the door quickly behind her. Then, backing her up against the door, he proceeded to kiss her like a thirsty man needing water.

“Oh…my,” she said when they came up for air. So much for her wondering about Night’s reaction to seeing her again. “Uh, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, D’Andra. You look beautiful, as usual.”

“Night,” she said, ducking her head under his arm and going around him toward the stairs. “I look the same as I always do.”

“I said ‘as usual’. You want anything before we begin our workout?”

Yeah, you,
is what she thought. “No, I’m cool,” is what she said.

They went through their usual warm-up exercises, a combination of stretching, callanetics and pilates. Night was professional even as he was attentive, with prolonged touches and lingering looks filling the space between counts.

Ten minutes into the exercises, D’Andra had worked up a sweat. She took off her warm-up jacket and was immediately conscious of the baby doll style T-shirt she wore underneath. The top was flattering in that it emphasized her breasts and de-emphasized her stomach and hips, stopping at the top of her thighs. D’Andra had put the top on underneath to soak up sweat as much as anything; and now all it was soaking up was Night’s attention. The sexual attraction between them was palpable and as much as D’Andra wanted to keep her mind on working out, she knew both she and Night were thinking of working her over in a way more fit for the bedroom than the weight room. If she was going to continue working with him, she had to clear the air.

“Night, we need to talk about what happened the other day.”

“Okay.”

“I’m obviously attracted to you, but like I said before I’m trying to stay focused on me right now. I went through a painful breakup with my ex and I don’t think I’m ready to go down that road again.”

“Which road…pain or love?”

“Is there a difference?”

“There can be. Look, D’Andra, this is new for me too. I have a rule not to date my clients, and I also said I’d put all my focus into opening my gym. But some things just happen, and sometimes…I think we should let nature take its course.”

Everything D’Andra wanted was standing right in front of her. Why was she so afraid of taking a chance?…
As long as you deny yourself, they’re still putting you through it.
Elaine’s words swirled around in her head along with her doubts.

“Let’s just be friends for right now,” she said finally. “Is that okay?”

“Is that friends with benefits?”

“Night!”

“All right, all right. But don’t ask me to keep away from those lips of yours because a brothah can only have so much discipline.”

“Maybe a kiss or two, every now and then; until I’m ready.”

“Girl,” Night sighed as he stepped to her and indulged her in a lazy, thorough kiss. “I think you’re going to be worth the wait.”

Jazz frowned as she entered Bally Fitness. She could never understand what Night saw in the place that made him like it so. On several occasions she’d tried to coax him into joining one of LA’s more upscale gyms, like Equinox or Crunch, where she worked out. A perfect size four with almost no body fat, Jazz hadn’t joined the gym, Equinox, for fitness purposes. She’d joined it to network, to meet celebrities, athletes and progressive businessmen for her public relations business. It had proven an excellent move. Using her stacked body as well as her sharp mind, she’d gained seven prominent clients since joining the gym a year ago, putting in more time since her breakup with Night.

Those attributes, body and mind, were the same ones used when she set her sights on Night, four years ago. It was at a Santa Monica beach, on a bike trail near her house. He was riding, she was walking her dog, Power. She took one look at the dark, smooth skin and tight, toned body of the rider coming toward her and stepped right in his path.

“Is that bicycle the only thing you ride?” she’d asked brazenly.

A tan isn’t the only thing she took from the beach that day. Night came over, and they barely left her bed all weekend. By Monday he was smitten with her sexiness and she was hooked on his hammer. The love came later, such as it was.

Jazz was all about making it, and Night was the perfect complement to her well-orchestrated life. It bugged her to no end that she couldn’t get him to leave his common friends and stay solely in her world of the elite. He’d compromised in some areas, attending various parties and social functions in the designer duds she chose for him and when he wasn’t training clients, spending most of his time at her sleek, two-bedroom condo in tony Santa Monica, instead of the ghetto neighborhood of Inglewood where he lived.

But in other things, Jazz remembered, he wouldn’t budge; like distancing himself from his countrified mom whom she’d been forced to endure almost every Sunday, along with the calorie-laden monstrosities that he and his mother erroneously referred to as “good eating.” And in refusing to leave this gym, where he worked in management right after graduation from college and where one of his best friends still trained and pumped iron. Zeroing in on that best friend, Jazz looked down her nose at the woman at the counter asking for her ID card, and walked around the turnstile to where Marc stood.

“It’s all right, Mitzy,” he said to the chagrinned employee whom Jazz had ignored. “What brings you down to mix with the little people, Jazz?”

“You know the only thing that could bring me here, Marc. Where is he?”

“Doesn’t work here full-time anymore.”

“Really?” Jazz was elated at this bit of news; maybe there was still hope for them after all.

“Nope. His gym will be opening in a few months and he’s been busy with that. Most of his other clients right now have gyms in their home and the few who don’t, he trains at his house.”

Jazz wondered about those clients, the bane of their existence that had led to her leaving him. Looking back, it had been one of the few times she’d made a poor choice. Night tried to get her to trust him, but she hadn’t. And now she was paying the price of his being out of her life, not to mention the emptiness of his being out of her bed. She’d tried to replace him in that area, but no one came close. Others had money, power, looks; but Night had mad loving skills. And he’d loved her from his heart. She knew that now. That’s why she was determined to get him back.

“Is he still training that singer, what’s her name?”

Marc knew fishing when he saw it, and he wasn’t going to bite. Any information she wanted about Night, she was going to have to get from him.

“I’m not sure who all he’s training now. I think a couple pro ballers though, and yeah, a couple celebrities. Night doesn’t come cheap, you know. But he’s the best; that’s why he can command that long paper.”

“He is the best,” Jazz agreed. She knew what Marc said was true as sure as she knew he was withholding information. Time to try another tactic.

“Hey, how’s the wifey? I haven’t seen her since, well, since me and Night broke up.”

That’s because in your mind she’s beneath you.
“Oh, Lindsay? She’s great; just celebrated a birthday. We went to Vegas.”

Where’d you stay, Circus Circus?
“That sounds so sweet, Marc. Tell her I said hello and that we should get together sometime soon.”

Why, so she can choke on your fakeness?
“I’ll do that.”

Good, maybe I can give Pug Face a much needed makeover.
Lindsay had been too white bread America for Jazz’s taste. The fact that she was in as good a shape as she didn’t sit well with Jazz either. She’d endured them both only because they were Night’s friends.

Sidling up to Marc, she flashed her most come-hither smile. “So…who’s my man seeing these days?”

You’re so transparent.
“I don’t know,” he said, looking at her pointedly. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“C’mon, Mark, you’re his best friend.”

“That’s why I’m telling you that if you want to know something about Night, then go to him. Don’t try and pump his best friend for information.”

Jazz fixed him with a look that Marc knew meant she wasn’t leaving until she felt she’d gotten what she came for.

“As far as I know, he isn’t seeing anybody. He’s been all wrapped up in opening his gym.”

“You think he’s really ready to do it? I mean, where’d he get the money and the space?”

Jazz considered Night’s plans to open his own business a pipe dream, especially since her name and stellar credit rating were no longer available to him.

Thankfully, Marc’s client walked up at that moment. “Ready to work out?” he asked the attractive blonde. She nodded. He heaved a grateful sigh. “Take care of yourself, Jazz.”

That’s exactly what I’ll do,
she thought as she maneuvered her Caspian blue SLK Roadster down Century Boulevard. Night’s modest two-bedroom home was only minutes from Bally’s, giving her little time to second-guess her impromptu decision for a surprise visit. She pulled up behind his black GMC Acadia parked in the driveway at the side of his house and cut the engine. After staring at the neatly trimmed shrubbery that lined the walk for a moment, she reached for her compact. They hadn’t seen each other up close in a while; she wanted to put her best face forward to make his re-acquaintance.

“You sure you don’t want to take a shower and have a quick meal?” Night wasn’t ready for D’Andra to leave.

“Tempting, but no, I have a couple errands to run and will try to sleep a couple hours before going to work tonight.”

“It was another good workout, D’Andra. I’m proud of your progress, and your focus.”

“Thank you.” Coming from him, this was high praise. Night’s body was as perfect a one as she’d seen; she could only hope that with his help hers would look half as good.

She was almost to the door when Night stopped her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

D’Andra looked down. She had her gym bag, her water and towel. Her keys were in her right hand and her warm-up jacket over her arm. “What?”

“This.” Night’s lips were soft as cotton candy as they descended on D’Andra’s. He teased and nibbled a moment before plunging his tongue into the crevices of her mouth, searching hers out for an oral dance. He pressed his body against her and before long she felt his desire press against her.

“I’d better go,” she breathed.

“Yes, you’d better.”

She opened the door.

“Hey, what do you say about a movie this Saturday? I heard about an independent one I’d like to check out.”

“Why, Night Simmons, that sounds like a date!”

“How about it?”

Her hesitation was brief. “Sounds great.”

“I’ll call you later with the details.”

D’Andra would have been hard-pressed to wipe the smile off her face or the song from her heart. She was going to follow both Elaine’s advice and her intuition. Night was a good man; she could feel it. And while she planned to take it slow, she definitely planned to take it.

“Oh, excuse me!” She’d been so deep in thought D’Andra nearly bumped the twig of a woman who was walking the opposite way up the walk into the shrubbery.

“Yes, excuse you,” Jazz snarled in return. Little did it matter that she was equally at fault. She checked her purse for condoms as she neared the entrance.

D’Andra just stared, taken aback at this woman’s rudeness, and her beauty. She looked about as big as a minute, with wide, slanted eyes, ridiculously long eyelashes and the kind of bee-stung mouth men loved. Her shoulder-length black bob framed high cheekbones and a long slender neck. She wore a tight-fitting dress and sandals with straps that wrapped around slender calves. Her toes were French-manicured. D’Andra saw all of this in the two seconds it took for the woman to huff, roll her eyes and sashay around D’Andra towards Night’s front door.

D’Andra held her head high as she walked to her car, even though her high spirits had been cut low by Miss America’s withering glare. The woman had the same haughty countenance as Cassandra sometimes donned when she thought she looked particularly cute—and did. Her sister would have given the stranger a run for her money, maybe even pushed her butt off the sidewalk. D’Andra was nobody’s pansy, but neither was she the type to get in your face.

What was important in her mind as she started her car and headed off Night’s block, wasn’t so much how the woman looked but who was she to her trainer. And as immediately as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Night said himself that he was surrounded by beautiful women, trained them on a regular basis. D’Andra remembered that being one of the reasons his girlfriend had left him. For a moment, D’Andra felt a bit of camaraderie with his ex, or at the least some understanding. One had to be made of stone to let her man around that kind of glamour all day and not worry a little bit. D’Andra had witnessed firsthand the power of sweaty seductions, and how hypnotic a gym in close quarters could be. She could just imagine the woman’s surgically enhanced breasts bouncing invitingly as she lifted and flexed. D’Andra would bet money those titties weren’t real. They were too big on a woman that little. D’Andra forced her thoughts away from the woman and from Night as well. If she were to have any type of future at all with him, she had to be trusting, and she might as well start now.