Salsa Heat (10 page)

Her kisses were sweeter than Godiva chocolate. When he penetrated her succulent core, the way her pussy insistently clenched him, drove him wild. He loved the way her long talons clawed his back, and how she cried out his name when he came—spilling his lifeline.

Shay has branded me for life,
he thought.

Sexually, they were compatible. Intellectuality, she could hold her own—although, she was a bookkeeper for a small finance company. They liked the same kind of music, and in seven days he knew his heart. He could’ve committed to Shay before she boarded that plane. In fact, he had requested a custom piece to match the diamond star pendant. The designer was local, so Linden commissioned him to make the matching ring to the two-carat diamond pendant.

Linden could hear his father telling him that anything that’s worth having would wait for him.
If Shay is the woman for me, God will keep her, until we meet again.

“Mr. Stewart,” Wendy greeted.

Linden looked up at the smiling face of the company’s flight attendant.

“Would you like anything to drink before takeoff, sir?”

“No, Wendy. I think I’ll just take a nap.”

“You look refreshed and relaxed, sir. Did you enough your vacation?”

“I must say, I’ve enjoyed my time on St. Lucia,” he said. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile.

“We’ll be taking off soon. Please fasten your seatbelt.”

Linden fastened his seatbelt and gazed out the window. Shay should’ve been halfway home by now, he told himself. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The memories of her straddling his hips and riding him aroused him, but he drifted off to sleep.

§

Linden tossed his luggage into the trunk of his yellow Hummer. He whizzed out of the airport parking lot. He was in a hurry to get home and to call Shay.

His right hand turned on the radio, and his left hand held the steering wheel as he took the ramp at the speed of twenty miles an hour, instead of the minimum ten. The Baltimore-Washington Parkway was bumper-to-bumper traffic as he eased into the middle lane. Anita Baker’s song, “Sweet Love,” crooned to him. His thoughts lingered on that special night after the jazz festival.

Shay dripped warm, white chocolate all over his lower body. Her lips had tried to suck him dry. She fell back on his stomach inhaling deeply until he was erect again.

Linden noted the surprised look on Shay’s face when his rod stood at rapt attention. He was thinking of the lonely nights ahead when she would no longer warm his bed. He reversed their positions, unrelentingly thrusting into her pussy—once, twice and a third time, until he exploded flooding her vaginal walls. Shay purred like a sated kitten. He loved the cry of passion from her sweet lips as she climaxed and her pussy spasms held him prisoner.

Shay can hold me prisoner for the rest of my life.

Feverishly, they made love again until he fell asleep with the biggest grin on his face.

The screech of tires and the smell of burning rubber brought him out of his musing. The sudden downpour made driving on the parkway slippery, and his vehicle went into a tailspin. With both hands griping the steering wheels, Linden fought for control of his Hummer.

Oh God, I’m going to hit that tanker truck ahead!

“Shay!”
Linden cried out, seconds before the crash.

Chapter Eight

“Linden!” Shay cried out not knowing that he was calling out to her, as well.

She bolted off the sofa, trembling. A shiver passed over her. Dazed, she looked around her living room. The television was blaring. It was three
A.M
., on Sunday morning. She had fallen asleep on the sofa with her cordless telephone in her hands, waiting for Linden’s call.

“He
never
called,” she said out loud.

Disappointed, Shay dialed his home and cell phone for the fifth time. Both calls went straight to voicemail. Angry, she walked into her bedroom, stripped down to her bare flesh, and eased into bed.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
She thought, taunting herself.

Shay beat on her pillow as if she were hitting Linden’s body. She was angry with him and herself for believing they could possibly be
more
than an island fling. Tears fell down her cheeks when she finally
lay
her head on the pillow.

Seconds later, she jumped out of the bed, remembering the black velvet box Linden slipped into her hands on her way to the airport. He asked her not to open it until he called her. She went in the living room searching for it. It slid into the cushion of her sofa when she had fallen asleep. She opened the box.

A platinum diamond star pendant was boldly displayed inside of the box. It was exquisite, and the weight of the diamond was at least a carat and a half. She took the pendant and placed it on her neck. She felt closer to Linden when she rubbed it. He seemed sincere when he said he’d call her that night. They were going to try out phone sex.

There has to be a reason for him not calling me,
she thought.

She lay back down, but her mind returned to her tortured thinking: Linden
never
called. Tears slid down Shay’s cheeks. She gripped the diamond pendant as memories of their making love replayed in her head, until she drifted back to sleep.

§

When Shay woke up on Sunday afternoon, she called him and left several more messages. He still did not return her calls. She held the pendant against her neck and finally realized the present was really a goodbye gift.

He lied to me.

Tears slid down her cheeks. It was
really
over between them!

§

Linden didn’t want her, and Michael wouldn’t give up. She packed up his things—stuffs he left at her apartment over the past three years. Although, he took the box without a fuss Michael told Shay he wasn’t giving up on them. In fact, he dropped by her office that Monday and invited her out to lunch, but she wouldn’t budge. The first week back home, he continued to call her every night, but the only person she wanted to see or talk to was Linden.

For the next three weeks, Shay just went with the flow—dragging
herself
to work and eating very little. She had no appetite for food, stupidly; she continued to reach out to Linden. She called and left messages on his cell, at his office, and his home phone, but he never returned
any
of her calls.

Shay cut herself off from everyone, including her cousins
Nia
and Tatiana. She screened her telephone calls and never returned them. Michael had finally given up on her and moved on. She lost herself in music, and she couldn’t stand to listen to Anita Baker’s voice any longer without seeing Linden. Sade’s sultry tones ministered to her broken heart. She kept playing that song, “An Ordinary Love.” The lyrics, “You… brightened…every…day…with…
your…sweet…smile.”

She looked out of her lonely, seventh-floor apartment window and cried. “I…keep… crying… for…you…,” cooed in her ears. Her own tears slid down her cheeks and soaked her negligee. Many nights, she went to bed with those lyrics, in her head—dreaming of Linden as he passionately made love to her.

§

Saturday morning, she woke up to the sound of someone banging at her apartment door.

“I know you’re home, Shay!” Tatiana hollered. “Open this door, right now, or I’ll call the police! You’ve avoided my calls for three weeks, and I’m
not
going away. Let me in!”

Shay was surprised her cousin hadn’t planted herself at her door before now. She had to let her inside, because Tatiana wasn’t leaving. She was a tenacious, five-foot, ball of fire. What Tatiana
wanted
—she
got
. If she was determined to get inside, she would call the police to gain access to Shay’s apartment.

Tatiana breezed through the door and plopped down on the sofa the moment Shay let her in.

“It’s balmy outside,
cuz
,” Tatiana said. Her voice was warm and bubbly.

She watched Shay, dressed in a skimpy, purple negligee,
crawl
back on the other end of the sofa—cuddled under the blanket as if she were cold.

“It’s warm and toasty in here. Are you ill?”

“Nope!”

What’s up? It’s noon. Do you plan to get dressed, today?”

“No!”

“You’ve been avoiding
Nia
and my calls since your return from St. Lucia, Shay.
Nia
had to work today; otherwise, she would’ve been here with me. What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to be left
alone
, okay.”

“I saw Michael with that
skank
, Miranda Jones. They were in Club Champagne, and she was giving him a lap dance like you wouldn’t believe. She would’ve allowed him to ball her, right there, in the middle of the dance floor,” Tatiana said, to get a rise out of her cousin.

“Michael and I are no longer dating. He can ball any woman he chooses.”

“Praise God!”
Tatiana bolted off the sofa, elated about that bit of news.

“I’ve been trying to get you to end it with that dog for three years. What made you see the light?”

Shay gave Tatiana the “evil eyes” hoping she would back off. But she knew it was useless.

Tatiana slipped back on the sofa. She pulled out her nail file and started to shape her nails. She had nowhere she needed to be. Sooner or later, she figured that Shay would start talking.

“Two days into my vacation, I caught him in bed with an island slut,” Shay confessed, eventually.

“
What?
”

“Do you know Michael had the nerve to screw her in my hotel bed? I paid for that trip. I thought it would be a romantic getaway for us,” Shay said. Her blood boiled when she thought back on the three years, she wasted with that
snake
.

“I can’t
believe
he’d be stupid enough to cheat on you in St. Lucia—right underneath your nose,” Tatiana replied.

“He’s arrogant enough to believe he could get away with it. The challenge must have made it even sweeter for him,” Shay said, rancor sharpened her voice.

“So, you’re moping around here because of him. Let’s go out and get two Philly
Cheesesteaks
. I’m starving!”

Shay groaned at the thought of biting into a greasy Philly
Cheesesteak
.

“I’m not hungry, and I’m
not
moping over Michael.”

“It looks to me like you are!”

“No, I’m not. I went to a club in St. Lucia and picked up a man,” Shay admitted.

Tatiana dropped her nail file. “Tell me…tell me, more,” she said, smiling at Shay—who also had a big grin on her face.

“The sex was incredible, and his smoldering violet eyes...”

“His smoldering, violet eyes—don’t tell me you picked up a
white
boy, in St. Lucia, Shay?”

“Yes, I did it with a
white
boy. I rode him, and he rode my black ass, too!”