Places in My Heart (16 page)

Omar smiled. “It's all good. Oh, and can you just take it as an anonymous donation?”

“Sure, but we usually list our sponsors and present them with a plaque.”

“That's not necessary.”

“Okay, if you insist. Thank you again.” She rushed off with a huge grin.

A passing waiter offered him a glass of champagne. Omar retrieved a flute and offered a thank-you. He scanned the ballroom and saw the students and their parents all dressed up. He turned another way and froze. He didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he felt the tightness in his chest. Morgan strutted across the room wearing a long one-shoulder red dress, and with every step, he was treated to a view of her shapely legs through a slit that stopped midthigh. She'd left her hair straight, and it hung to the middle of her back. His arousal was instant. No other woman kept him hard and aching all the time. Omar tossed back the champagne and tried to remember how to breathe again. Several men stopped her, and one seemed to have trouble keeping his hands to himself. It took every bit of control he could conjure up not to go charging across the room.

“You look a little green, Drummond,” an amused voice said. “Jealousy will do that to you.”

He turned slightly and met Malcolm's smile. “Jealousy implies I want something that's not mine. I'm just protecting what already belongs to me. And she is mine.”

“You seem pretty sure about that.”

Omar's gaze strayed back to Morgan. “I am.” And she would be sure about it before the night ended, because he had fallen in love with her.

Chapter 16

M
organ felt Omar's gaze following her every move. She'd spotted him the moment he walked through the door—she couldn't have missed his towering height. The eyes of every single woman in the room turned his way when he came in. In the gray suit with his locs flowing around his shoulders, he was a sight to behold. She refocused her attention on the man standing in front of her but kept stealing glances at Omar.

“You sure can dance,” the man was saying.

“Thank you. Do you have a son or daughter you were thinking of enrolling?”

“Me? No. I don't have any children.” He sidled closer. “I'm not married, either. Do you teach adult classes? I was hoping you could teach me some moves.”

She did a mental eye roll. Was this guy for real? Teach him some moves? She smiled. “Sorry, we only teach children. If you'll excuse me, I see someone I need to speak with. Enjoy the evening. We do hope you'll support our efforts.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure.”

Morgan left him standing there and greeted a few of the parents but never lost sight of Omar. Their eyes connected, and she could feel the pull of desire from across the room. The heat in his eyes reached out and touched her like a gentle caress.

“You know, it would be better for the two of you to pass those looks on the same side of the room, preferably while you're in proximity to each other,” Brooke drawled.

Morgan frowned. “What?”

“So the rest of us don't get burned to a crisp from all the heat the both of you are generating in the room. I thought you were supposed to be seeing him secretly. If y'all don't stop with the passion eyes, everyone in a five-mile radius is going to know.”

Brooke was right. Morgan needed to keep herself in check. “I'm fine. How are the donations coming?” She had set a goal of half a million dollars. The money would allow for expansion and hiring of at least two teachers, but also give them some breathing room for any repairs that might be required in the existing space.

Brooke handed Morgan a check. “We're more than halfway there with just this one donation.”

Morgan read the check. “Wow.”

“And he asked that I list it as anonymous. Isn't that fantastic? Girl, you picked a winner! He's fine, smart and generous.” She plucked the check out of Morgan's hand. “I'm so excited.”

Morgan turned his way again and found his eyes waiting. “He is all of those things.”
And more
, she wanted to add. “I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute.” In reality, she only wanted to get some air and made a beeline for the hallway. One part of her wondered if he'd written such a large check just to show off, but the part of her that witnessed his passion as he spoke about the mental health center knew differently.

Morgan stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She owed Omar an apology. Even though she read passion in his eyes, she also detected hurt. The drama that followed in the wake of her relationship with Jabari had made her even quicker to dismiss a relationship to protect her heart. She had told Khalil that her heart didn't factor into her and Omar's relationship, but her heart was more involved than she cared to admit.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her dress and made her way back down the long corridor toward the ballroom. Before she could get far, a hand pulled her into an empty conference room and closed the door.

“What the—”

“You're killing me, you know,” Omar said in an agonized whisper, backing her against the wall.

“Omar.”

“How long are you going to punish me for something I didn't do?”

“I'm not punishing you anymore. I'm sorry. I believe you when you said nothing happened.”

“Thank you.” Relief flooded his face, and his mouth came crashing down on hers.

The kiss was hot and demanding, making her senses spin. She felt his hand sliding up her thigh through the slit in her dress, and she shivered with the contact. He eased her panties to the side and slid in a finger. Her breath caught and she moaned, moving her hips to his lazy rhythm.

“You're the only woman I want, Morgan,” he said as he transferred his kisses to her bared shoulder. “The only one, baby.”

He added another finger and sped up his movements. Morgan arched against his hand, and her breath came in short gasps. He applied pressure to her clit and she convulsed.

“You're mine.” Omar captured her wild cry in a deeply passionate kiss.

He withdrew, braced his hands on the wall above her head and rested his forehead against hers. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Still trying to recover, Morgan said, “Nothing, why?”

“My house. You, me and ‘Madden.' You don't have to call. Just come.” He brushed a kiss over her lips and exited the room.

Her body still trembled, and her heart pounded furiously in her chest. Fighting her feelings for him was a lost cause. At this point, she didn't want to try anymore. She leaned on a nearby table to keep from sliding to the floor. She chuckled. “Madden”? The last thing on her mind was playing a game. She wanted him to finish what he started.

* * *

Saturday morning, Morgan, Siobhan and their mother sat wearing robes and enjoying manicures and pedicures. They'd just finished a massage, and Morgan hadn't realized how much tension she'd been carrying. But now the knots and kinks were gone and she felt light as a feather.

“Morgan, I was waiting for you to introduce your young man last night,” her mother said.

Siobhan leaned up and smiled.

“He's not really...” Her mother gave her a look. “We're not seeing each other publicly yet. We're waiting until his contract is done.”

“I see. So how is that coming along?”

“It's going fine. The meeting is set for three weeks from now.”

“Honey, you could've just told your father and me that you wanted to do this. All we want is for you to follow your heart.”

“But Daddy keeps talking about me taking over the legal department sometime down the road.”

“Oh, he may grumble a little bit, but he'll come around pretty quick.”

Morgan doubted that but didn't say so. When Khalil decided on a career in modeling and then fitness, her father had fussed for months.

“And what's this I read about his former agent embezzling money?”

“Yeah, that's why Omar wanted a change.”

“I sure hope he has a good lawyer. The man has some nerve thinking he could just steal and not get caught.”

“My thoughts exactly, Mom,” Siobhan chimed in. “With the amount they estimated in the papers, Roland Foster is lucky Omar didn't kick his behind.”

Morgan had read the article. “I saw that Roland is denying it. And yes, Omar has a good lawyer.”

“He should've asked you to do it,” Siobhan said.

“Vonnie, you know I couldn't be his agent while representing him in a lawsuit against his former one.”

“True, but I was thinking more about how you would wear his tail out in court.”

All three women laughed and her mother said, “That's the truth.”

“He did ask, though.”

After finishing at the spa, they changed into their clothes and drove to a nearby restaurant for lunch. While eating, her mom went back to talking about Omar.

“You mentioned not seeing each publicly, but that doesn't mean you can't bring him to Sunday dinner. Can't get any more private than that.”

Siobhan laughed. “Glad the spotlight's off me.”

Morgan glared at her sister. “Mom, I'm only twenty-seven.”

“I was married and had three children by then,” she said.

“Shouldn't you be on Brandon more since he's the next in line? He and Khalil are already in the thirties club.” They were thirty-two and thirty, respectively. Morgan thought they should be first to settle down.

“Maybe, but they aren't dating anyone seriously. You are. I'm going to tell you like I told Siobhan—if he gets out of line, don't be afraid to remind him what he'll miss if he doesn't straighten up. Nothing like a little perfume and a nice dress to make the man stand up and take notice.” She wagged a finger Morgan's way. “Because you'd better believe if he takes notice, so are all the other men.”

Morgan's mouth dropped and laughter escaped. “
Mom.
I can't believe you.”

“What? I wasn't always this old.”

Morgan and Siobhan shared a look and burst out laughing. They spent the remainder of lunch listening to their mother share her dating escapades. By the time Morgan made it home, her sides ached from laughing so hard.

After spending the bulk of the afternoon starting a timeline of events for the lawsuit, she took an hour to work out a few numbers for Omar's contract so she could discuss them after she whipped him at “Madden” again. An image of his shocked expression the last time she beat him floated through her mind and brought a smile to her face. Morgan picked up the phone to call and let him know she was on her way, but then remembered he told her just to come over, so she gathered up the papers, grabbed her purse and headed out.

“Hey, beautiful,” Omar said when he opened the door. He stepped back to let her enter.

“Hey yourself, handsome. Ready for another butt-whipping?”

“Girl, you're talking smack before you get in the door. I already told you what the outcome is going to be, but I see you're choosing to ignore it. Come on in. You'll find out soon enough. I'm even prepared to feed you first to make sure you have some energy.”

“Gee, thanks. Aren't you the noble one.”

Omar bowed low. “At your service.”

Morgan shook her head and laughed. Her laughter turned to a scream when he swooped her up and carried her through the foyer and living room to the kitchen. “I'm not really hungry. My mom, Siobhan and I spent the morning and early afternoon together, and we had a big lunch. I'll eat later, but you go ahead.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “You're going to need all the help you can get.”

“All right, let's go, Ms. Thang.” He went through the opposite side of the kitchen to the family room and dropped down on the sofa. The game was already on pause.

She sat next to him and picked up a controller. “Same rules as last time?”

“Whatever you want, sweet baby. It doesn't matter because you're going to lose.”

“In your dreams, Drummond. This time you'll be cooking my food for a week.”

“We're not playing for food.”

She paused. “Then what?”

“Your clothes. For every score I make, you take off an article of clothing. My choice.”

“You're kidding, right?” she asked with a nervous chuckle.

He shook his head slowly. “You aren't scared, are you?”

“No way, but it won't be fair. How am I supposed to concentrate on the game if you're naked?”

“Your concentration won't be affected because all my clothes will be on.”

Morgan took in his calm demeanor and felt a moment of uncertainty. Then she gave herself a pep talk.
You beat him before, so no sweat. You can do this.
“Let the game begin.” When he scored in the first minute of the game, Morgan become conscious of the fact that winning might not be so easy this time.

“I think I want your top first,” he said.

Because it was summer, it wouldn't take more than a few scores for them to be completely naked. She had on only four pieces of clothing—tank top, bra, shorts and panties. She'd kicked off her flip-flops as soon as she entered the house. Reaching for the hem of her top, she pulled it over her head and tossed it on the sofa next to her. Omar leaned over and trailed his tongue over the tops of her breasts visible above the bra.

“Your turn,” he murmured, taking her mouth in an intoxicating kiss.

Clearing her mind from the sensual fog he'd placed her in, Morgan took her turn. She was one yard from scoring when Omar caused her man to fumble. He picked up the ball and returned it for a touchdown. Morgan stared at the TV in disbelief.

“I'm not sure what I want to see more, your beautiful breasts or your luscious hips in the pair of sexy panties I know you're wearing.” He scooted closer, then ran his hand up her torso and around her back and unhooked her bra. “They were calling me.” He cupped one breast in each hand and massaged and kneaded them.

Omar used his thumbs to tease the hardened buds, and her breath caught. When he lowered his head and replaced his thumbs with his tongue, she moaned and fell back against the sofa. He captured her nipples between his teeth and tugged gently. “Baby,” she said, “we're supposed to be...ooh...playing...ooh...”

“Sorry.” He helped her to an upright position.

Morgan didn't know how she could concentrate on playing with her body in such turmoil. By halftime she was down to her panties and had yet to claim one piece of his clothing.

“I know how we can spend halftime.” Omar lifted her to straddle his lap, and the wandering caresses began again. “I can't stop touching you.”

She took hold of his locs and fastened her mouth on his in a deep, scorching kiss. She captured his tongue and sucked hard, eliciting a hoarse groan from him. It was her turn to groan when his hands slipped beneath her panties to grip her buttocks and grind her against his erection. Morgan's hands went to the waistband of his shorts, but he removed her hands.

“Game's not over yet, sweetheart,” he panted and sat her back on the sofa. “You first.”

She finally scored a touchdown at the beginning of the fourth quarter and decided to get some sweet revenge. “I'll take those shorts.”

He stood and pushed the shorts down and off, leaving him clad in a T-shirt and a pair of black boxer briefs. “You have only two minutes to score fourteen points.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She ran her hand over the rock-solid ridge of his shaft through the briefs. His head fell back, and a low moan erupted from his throat. She knelt in front of him and replaced her hand with her tongue, and Omar's breath became uneven. “I do believe it's your turn.”