Easier Said Than Done (34 page)

“Is it okay if I take a shower and crash for a few hours before I head out?” That was the question his mouth asked, but his eyes were saying the opposite.

“Sure.” I nonchalantly lifted a shoulder, knowing that if the desire in my eyes hadn't given me away, then the wetness moistening my inner thigh sure would. Climbing off his lap, I pointed upstairs. “The bathroom is that way. I'll grab you some towels. The guest room is already made up, so make yourself at home.” I made a production of yawning. “I need to get some sleep, too. I'm exhausted.”

Damon nodded, heading downstairs to grab his overnight bag, then up to the bathroom without even a second glance in my direction. I was unprepared for the aching void that he left in his wake or the rejection, as if that made any sense at all. Damon was feeling the same way I was—frustrated. I knew that. I also knew that if I had pressed the issue, we would still be in that recliner, testing to see if the spring devices were as good as the television ads professed them to be. But I hadn't pressed the issue and neither had he.

The shower water ran and I still hadn't gotten the towels.

When I knocked on the door, there was no answer. I knocked again more loudly, but still nothing; so I went in, picked up clothes that were scattered over the beige marble tiled floor, folded them and laid them on the countertop.

The bathroom was filled with steam, but the outline of Damon's naked body was still visible. Bent at the waist, he was lathering himself with the same sure movements that he used to
introduce me to ecstasy. I watched him work on legs that were thick, strong, and sweetly bowed. My gaze wandered over his soapy chest before following the curly dark hairs that tapered down his stomach and disappeared into his groin. My knees buckled. I leaned on the sink to keep myself from falling and knocked over the soap dispenser.

At the clattering, Damon looked up. When our eyes met in the mirror, I wanted to look away, but couldn't. I should have walked right out the door, but my feet remained glued to the floor. Sweat trickled down my neck caused by the heat from the shower, and from the electricity that shot between us. I either had to do something or be consumed in the fire.

Damon's gaze gave me no choice. I slowly moved my hands to unfasten my halter-top. He licked his lips as it fell to my waist and finally to the floor. I peeled my jeans from my body, Damon's eye widening when he saw my Brazilian-cut G-string bikini panties. I didn't even remember slipping off my boots and socks before stepping into the shower.

“I could look at you all day,” Damon said, tossing the washcloth to the side.

I smiled as if it were an everyday occurrence to have a naked man in my shower. Stepping into his embrace, I traced a moist trail with my tongue from his strong neck to his navel, planting kisses everywhere in between. Damon's grip tightened on my shoulders, turning me and backing us underneath the spray of the shower. His hands explored my slippery body. Smoothing the wet hair off my face, he moved his lips down the curve of my jawbone. When he turned me to face the mirror, I tried to wiggle away, but he just pulled me closer.

“I want to see you,” he said, as he opened the shower door so that he could get a clearer view. The outlines of our body reflected in the foggy mirror and my breath quickened.

“Awwww! Sweet Jesus, I could easily become addicted to you.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, laying one hand flat against my stomach, the other hand cupping my breast before he moved it lower, then lower and lower still. His lips were hot against my ear as he nibbled on the lobe. “I love you so much, Kingston.”

“I love you, too.” The words danced out of my mouth and dissolved into the steam from the shower before I could suck them back in. But then, I wasn't sure I wanted to anymore.

His fingers worked their magic, causing me to moan and look up through hooded lids. With the steam of the shower and the passion, I could almost swear that I was standing in the outside shower beneath the blackness of the Jamaican night broken only by the twinkling of stars.

Chapter 28

Damon wrapped us in a fluffy towel and gently dried me off with the loose ends. I moved closer to him, touched by the tender gesture.

He chuckled. “We still haven't managed to make love in a bed yet.”

I laughed, too, and wiggled my hips enough to elicit a response. “It's not too late,” I said.

“And you wonder why I love you?” Damon swooped me into his arms, covering the space between the bathroom and the bedroom in two long strides before flinging me on the bed and jumping on top of me.

After another two hours of lovemaking, we had fallen asleep, exhausted—a sweaty tangle of arms and legs. And now he was doing his best to ruin it.

“I want you to move back to Jamaica.”

“Damon, this doesn't change anything. Just because I like having sex with you does not mean that we're back together and that I'm going to move to Jamaica to be with you.” I pushed the sheets back. “You're like that piece of candy that my mama told me I couldn't have, but I snuck and got it anyway. I couldn't resist it; but trust me, when my mama found out, there were consequences that made it not so worth it in the end.”

“Well, I'm giving you permission to have that piece of candy.” He pointed to his bare chest. “I'm the candy and I'm telling you to eat me.”

“Candy's not good for you. Makes you fat and your teeth fall out,” I said before getting up and heading toward the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and washed my face before rummaging through the dirty laundry for some t-shirts, sweatpants, and a sweatshirt to run in. I put on about five layers of clothing before I walked back into the room.

“I would run with you, but I really need to get on the road. I didn't plan on sleeping as long as I did.”

“I didn't ask you to run with me.”

Damon recoiled as if I had picked up a rifle and shot him. “You can be so cold sometimes, Kingston. When we make love, it's like magic—you're so warm and sweet and giving; you operate totally on how you feel, then two hours later you turn into a different person. Yes, the sex is unbelievable, but I want more than your body. I want your heart, mind, and soul, too. I want all of you. When are you going to start doing what your heart tells you to do, and forgive me?”

“Well, you can't have all of me. So just take what you can get or don't take anything at all.” I picked up my headphones and mini iPod off the dresser. Cocoa was scratching at the guest
room door, waiting. When I opened it, she bounded in and jumped on the bed licking Damon eagerly on the face.

“Cocoa,” I said in the voice usually reserved for pooping on the carpet or some other offense. “Let's go.” She got in one last lick before skulking off the bed and lying obediently by my feet. I glanced at Damon, his naked body, only key parts covered, and willed myself not be weak again. “Lock the door on your way out.” I trotted down the stairs, listening not to my heart or my head, but my pride. Ego wouldn't let me give in.

Grabbing Cocoa's leash, I wrapped it around my wrist, locking her in. She stood by my side and the look on her face said she wouldn't betray me again.

I heard Damon call, “Merry Christmas,” just before I slammed the front door.

* * *

Most of the day was spent packing and ignoring calls from Essence and Randy, who were phoning under the guise of wishing me a Merry Christmas. The first couple of times, okay, I knew they were trying to clean up dirty laundry. The holiday spirit had moved them to want to make amends, but after my blow up with Damon, I was not in the mood.

After the sixth call, I was ready to alert the police and report them as stalkers.

More socks were tossed into the suitcase that lay open on the couch already surrounded by a myriad of other clothing. From the corner of my eye, I saw the note that Damon had left on the table. I imagined him placing it there before hopping in his rental and driving to Atlanta. The stark white paper had been folded once, then folded again. Next to it sat a tiny box that was wrapped in gold paper and topped with a green satin bow. Both were untouched. I hadn't worked up the guts to open either one.

During my hour and a half run, I had come up with a plan for Mr. Mansini and once again I was going to present it with no option for being turned down. I was moving to Jamaica, but still wanted to head up the urban division of MMG, with Jonetta playing a much larger role in day-to-day operations. That way I could live in Jamaica, run the estate, and be free to travel to the states when necessary. The technology available today would make it more than possible. Jonetta was capable and organized enough to handle the additional responsibilities. I also knew that Mr. Mansini and the board of directors had too much invested in this project to just scrap it. With just one artist signed to the label, daily presence in the office would not be required. The situation could definitely work.

So anxious to start the process that right after my run, without even bothering to shower, I booked my flight to Jamaica online, scheduling to leave Saturday morning at five forty-five. That would give me enough time to take care of my personal business, but not too much time to over think my decision. I faxed my flight information to Mr. Bartlett's office along with a short note letting him know that I would be taking control of Mama Grace's estate, then called Bianca and left a message asking her to pick me up at the airport. Normally, that phone call would be reserved for Uncle Winston, but it was time to start some new traditions. After wishing her a
Merry Christmas, I hung up filled with a sense of finality. I couldn't believe that everything was about to change. Cocoa bounded into the room and I rubbed her behind the ears. She was the one constant in this whole thing. The phone rang again and I rolled my eyes toward heaven. God grant me strength.

I tossed a load of dirty clothes into the washing machine, then went upstairs to rummage through the closet to pick out the shoes I would be taking with me. Two rows of various types of boots—from hiking boots to eel-skin Prada spikes—would no longer be of any use. I grabbed ten different pairs of sandals and three pairs of tennis shoes. Only taking the necessities, I packed as if I were going for a couple of weeks as opposed to the rest of my life.

The phone rang again. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves before picking up the phone. “What do you want, Essence?”

“Just called to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, that's it? Well, Merry Christmas to you, too. Bye.”

Essence screamed at the top of her lungs, “Wait, Kingston. Don't hang up! Please!”

I placed the receiver back to my ear and cradled it with my shoulder, but didn't say a word. I continued to pull clothes from the dresser drawers and put them in a pile to pack.

“Are you there?” she asked. “I know you're there, Kingston. I can hear you breathing.”

“I'm here.”

“All right, so I called for more than to just wish you a Merry Christmas. I needed to tell you how sorry I am. These past few days without you and Keela have been torture. I feel horrible about everything.”

“I bet you do. But I think you feel bad because you got caught, not because of what you did. I'm not sure anymore if you're even capable of being remorseful about the things you do.”

Essence sighed. “You know I never apologize for anything, and I definitely don't ask for forgiveness. My whole life philosophy is take me or leave me—bullshit and all. But this is different. I can't even begin to tell you how much I want forgiveness from you and Keela.”

“Yeah, well I can forgive you. That's the easy part. It's the forgetting that I can't do, at least not right now.”

“I miss you guys. I'm not ashamed to say that.”

“Look, Essence, I'm not in the mood for weepy confessions. I know you're sad. So am I.But what's done, is done.”

Essence sucked her teeth. “I think you're being a baby about this whole situation. I knew Keela would whine for a while, but I thought you'd be able to move on quickly.”

“What happened to the pitiful ‘I'm so sorry' routine?”

“Look, I messed up. What more can I say? I'm not gonna sit here and beg for your forgiveness for the rest of my life.”

“Then don't,” I said simply, then hung up the phone. Almost immediately I picked it back up and punched in my boss's number at home.

He wasn't happy about it. “It's Christmas Day and I'm in the middle of spending time with my family. We were about to sit down to dinner. This better be good,” Mr. Mansini growled and I felt put back in place, like a mistress who had overstepped her bounds.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wouldn't have called if it weren't important. I need to talk to you.” Mr. Mansini listened as I spilled my guts, relating the tale of Mama Grace's estate in one long rambling breath.

“I'm not sure what to say, Kingston.”

“I know I'm putting you in a very awkward position, but I've thought this through and I believe I've worked out a viable plan.”

“I don't believe I have quite as much confidence as you.”

“Just hear me out. We'll keep the Chicago office and I'll set up another one in Jamaica. With technology, it'll be as if I'm right here. Traveling won't be a problem, so I can be in
Chicago or New York as often as necessary. Of course, I'll need some extra help. I haven't mentioned anything to Jonetta yet, but I think a pay raise would convince her to take on added responsibilities.”

Mr. Mansini's voice turned cold. “There isn't room in the budget to give Jonetta any more money. Scooby has potential, but he hasn't earned this company a dime yet. I took a big chance on this venture and on you and now it looks as if I've made a bad decision.”

“No disrespect, Mr. Mansini, but there is more than enough money in the budget to give Jonetta a raise. I know; I'm the one who put it together. But if you need to, you can offset the extra money with a portion of my salary.” I thought was a fair offer, but I still sensed hesitation on Mr. Mansini's part. “You've trusted me this far, Mr. Mansini, and I've delivered on everything I've promised, haven't I? Can't you trust me for a little bit longer?”