Scream My Name (12 page)

W
hen he flipped their bodies so that she lay draped on top of his big, hard sweaty body, Leila lifted a limp hand and laid it on top of his chest, her body relaxed, at ease. Sated.

She felt boneless.

“That’s what will happen whenever you challenge me, Lee,” he murmured, the hairs on his chest tickling her cheek as he rumbled the response.

Leila’s heart seemed to skip a beat at his response, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

Despite the laxity of her limbs and the all-around good feeling she had—the kind of feeling a woman got when she’d been good and pleased by a man—damn if she’d let him think he was the boss of her.

No man was the boss of her.

She ignored the taunting laugh in her head telling her she sounded like a taciturn toddler.

She forced her relaxed limbs to cooperate and before he knew what hit him, she’d flipped his body away, silently thanked her instructor, Master Yong, for the skills he’d taught, and had jumped off the bed. After landing on the balls of her feet, Leila swiftly spun around.

Brandan, now sprawled on the bed, his legs splayed apart, and his gorgeous cock…damn it, Leila forced her eyes away…He continued to lie where she dumped him. Before he could hide it, a look of surprise on his face forced a pleased grin on hers. “Get out,” she demanded.

He laid back, propped his leg to the side, his penis, no longer erect yet still thick, lay enticingly to the side of his inner thigh.

Leila looked away.

“You heard me, Brandan…I want you to go,” she insisted.

She turned to face him, ready to see a mocking look on his face.

There was none. Instead, he leaned up and gently held his hand out to her, silently begging her to take it, to take him.

She took a deep breath. She didn’t want him thinking he could get away with manhandling her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. The apology seemed to shock him more than her, and despite her ambivalent feelings, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips.

What in the world was she going to do with him, with her confusing feelings for him, and their odd relationship?

Leila sighed, and placed her jumbled thoughts and confusing feelings to the side.

She placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her back to the bed.

He pulled her body in front of his, her back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around her, before resting his head lightly against the top of her head.

Leila expelled a breath of air, and curled her body inside his, and fell asleep, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of tangled emotions.

“W
ow, you look…different, but cute! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing anything so casual before. What’s the special occasion? Supporting the Spurs?”

Leila laughed, and spun around in her pink and white Nikes, showing off her outfit of faded jeans and a San Antonio Spurs’ jersey, before she quickly glanced around to make sure all her customers were taken care.

Once she was assured they were, she asked, “May I?” indicating the seat opposite one of her favorite customers, Danita Adams.

“Girl, of course!”

Leila pulled back the chair and sat down, unable to keep the grin from her face. “I have a date to go see the Spurs pull out a can of whoop-ass on the Nuggets,” she replied, laughing.

“Oooh, who with? No, let me guess…that big, fine, Stetson-wearing tycoon who’s been sniffin’ around you for the last few weeks?” Danita laughed when Leila’s grin widened.

“Ummm, girl, spill the beans! What’s been going on with you two? The last thing I heard from you was that he was hell-bent on trying to steal your land, and you were just as hell-bent on stopping him. A regular Hatfield—McCoy type of relationship,” she laughed, and Leila laughed along with her at the analogy.

“Yeah, well, we’re at an impasse with that one.”

“Called a temporary cease-fire, did you? Ummm, must be some good loving going on for that to happen.” Danita replied, raising a brow as she drank her tea.

“I am not saying a
word
about that. My lips are sealed!” She replied, moving two closed fingers across her mouth as though she were zipping them shut.

“Your lips may be sealed, but I’d lay ten-to-one odds that’s about all that’s sealed!”

“Oooh, no you didn’t!” Leila burst out laughing. “You are too much!”

“You may as well spill. You know you want to, anyway…what’s been going on since the last time we spoke?” Danita asked, propping her elbows on the table, a mischievous grin flirting around her small, pursed lips.

Leila sighed, and immediately began to spill. Just like Danita knew she would.

She hadn’t talked about her relationship with Brandan with anyone. The only one who was aware of what was going on was Hawk, and she didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with him, although he was the closest person to her. It felt somehow…strange when she’d tried to. Instead, she’d kept all her doubts, fears…and excitement to herself. She had no real close girlfriends, just casual acquaintances. Danita was the closest she had to a real “girlfriend.” It was a strange relief to have someone to share her burgeoning feelings about Brandan with, at last.

Danita had moved to San Antonio a few years ago at the urging of her assistant and good friend, Larissa, after completing her dissertation to earn her clinical license in psychotherapy.

After striking out on her own, she’d gradually earned a solid reputation as an outstanding therapist, and within two years of opening, now had a nice office in private practice in an exclusive area of town.

But she’d worked hard for every bit of success she’d acquired.

Before she had been able to afford to move into her own office space, in the very beginning, she’d come to Aunt Sadie’s early in the mornings, before the diner grew crowded, tugging her portal office of cell phone and laptop.

When it wasn’t busy, Leila would sit down with the woman and talk, and although not exactly friends, they’d formed a bond, the type of bond two women who were in business for themselves, struggling to be successful, created. From there it had grown into a friendship, one that Leila valued.

She’d lightly spoken about Brandan with Danita, telling her how they’d met, and how confusing she found their relationship. And how she had never felt so alive as she did when they were together. Now she brought her friend up to speed on where they were in the relationship.

“In all this time, you two haven’t actually had a date, huh?” Danita asked, and when Leila shook her head no, continued. “Well, from the sounds of things, you’ve been doing a lot more than the typical dinner and movie…girl, I ain’t mad at ya,” she quipped, a wide grin crossing her pretty dark brown face.

“No, which is why Brandan decided we were long overdue
for
a date,” Leila laughed.

“So, it’s official? You two are an item?”

Leila cocked her head to the side, considering her friend’s words. “Well—” she began, but before she could finish, Danita interrupted her.

“Hmmm, looks like your man is here.”

Leila turned around and felt a ridiculous blush warm her face when she saw him in the doorway.

He was dressed as casually as she, a baseball cap replaced his typical Stetson, his long legs were encased in faded button-fly jeans, and his big feet were sporting running shoes.

He was wearing a Spurs’ jersey—matching the one she was wearing—and she grinned, remembering how he’d brought it by the restaurant the day before and told her she had to wear it. To support the team. It was all about the team, he’d assured her.

She rose as he approached her, and as she had with Danita, Leila spun around for his inspection.

“Yeah…papa likes,” he said in a deep, sexy drawl.

“Oh, so you’re my daddy now, huh?”

He brought her close and kissed her gingerly on the lips. “Hell, no, there’s nothing fatherly about the way I feel about you, the things I plan to do later tonight,” he said, stroking a hand over her bottom and pulling her tight so she could feel the thick ridge of his cock at the V of her legs.

“Hmmm, hmmm.”

Leila turned when she heard her friend’s subtle cough.

“Sorry, she just can’t seem to keep her hands off me!” Leila slugged Brandan good naturedly on the arm and laughed, waving to her friend as he turned her around to leave.

She called out a farewell to Hawk, who was helping her out so she could go out with Brandan, and the pair left the café.

As Danita watched them leave, a wistful smile crossed her face. Feeling as though someone was watching her, she turned and caught eyes with the waiter who was intently staring at her. After several moments, moments where she felt as though she were caught in a crazy time warp, unable to look away, he finally was the one to break contact.

Danita shivered, despite the warmth of the diner and the sweater she wore, and she rubbed her hands over her arms, warming herself.

“W
hat a game! Boy, there’s nothing like live action. It beats the heck out of watching the game on TV!” Leila enthused, the adrenalin obviously still pumping.

Brandan sat in one of high-backed stools, and with pure male appreciation, watched her bustle around her kitchen, taking out pots and pans, and chattering nonstop, reliving the game, as she began to prepare him food.

She had changed clothes, and now wore nothing more than a pair of short lounging shorts—where he could see her tight, round cheeks peek out when she stood on tiptoe to grab a box of pasta from the back of one of her cabinets—a sports bra, and one of her sexy aprons. And no panties.

The no panties had been his idea, one she’d laughingly agreed to.

He grinned in complete masculine appreciation as he watched her fill the pot with water and place it on the stove.

He’d paid more attention to her than the actual game. Her cheeks had flushed with excitement while she leapt out of her seat throughout the game, cheering on the Spurs or booing the ref for a bad call.

It had been slow inching along in the back-to-back build up of traffic as they exited the AT & T Center. They would have made it out a lot sooner, with his VIP seating and parking, but when he’d told her he could introduce her to a few of the players, her eyes had widened, and for the first time he heard her actually squeal in excitement.

“I had no idea when I suggested a Spurs game, that you were such a fan,” he said.

“Yep. True blue! Aunt Sadie and I never missed a game. Once, when I was younger, she took me to a game, a live one, and I was hooked. We couldn’t afford to make it a regular habit, but whenever they were playing a playoff game, she made room in the budget,” she smiled in memory.

“She sounds like one of a kind, your Aunt Sadie.”

“She was.” Leila tossed the comment over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator and leaned inside to hunt down what she needed. As she bent over, exposing more of her softly rounded cheeks, Brandan groaned.

“I never wanted for anything, but at the same time, luxuries like ball games and movies were rare. I appreciated it, particularly as I grew older, how much she sacrificed to raise me.”

He felt rather than saw some of the happiness leave her, as her back was turned to him. He rose from his chair and walked over to where she stood in front of the stove, staring down at the water as it began to bubble, coming to a boil.

He placed his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest.

She picked up the noodles, eased them into the bubbling water, and began to stir them in the pot. “It’s the main reason why I can’t let Aunt Sadie’s go. I feel like if I do, if I give up and just sell, I’ll be letting go of something I can’t ever get back.”

Brandan sighed. After hugging her, he moved away and leaned against the butcher block island, crossing his arms over his chest.

They had been avoiding all talk of the sale lately. Anytime she tried to bring it up, he would steer the conversation away. Anytime his partners asked him how things were going, how close he was to convincing her to sell, he gave the standard answer that it wouldn’t be long.

“Leila, you know you’re going to have to sell. You’re going to have to face that,” he said, breaking the silence.

She whipped her head around to stare at him, an incredulous expression on her face. “What?” Several of her long locs whipped across her face as she did. With an impatient hand, she pulled them back into the ponytail at her nape.

He pushed away from the counter. When he tried to take her into his arms, she pushed him away and stared up at him.

“What do you mean I
have
to sell? I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

“When are you going to face the fact that you’re causing more harm than good to yourself and your neighbors by refusing to sell?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He brought her back into contact, forcing her to look at him when she would have turned away.

“Yes, you do. Come on, Lee.”

“No, why don’t you tell me, Brandan?”

He grabbed her by the arm. “Look, you need to face facts—”

“What facts?” she yelled, her breathing now harsh as she stared at him.

“Facts that you can’t bring back your great-aunt by holding on to that damn café. You can’t keep it together, no matter how strong you think you are, all by yourself. By taking our offer, you’ll be doing yourself and your neighbors a hell of a lot more good than by being stubborn and holding on to some unreasonable hope that you’ll make that café more than what it is.”

“And just what is that, Brandan?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“A run-down, forgotten diner, one which anyone with half a brain would have sold a damn long time ago.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished to God he could have retracted them.

Her face lost all color; she closed her eyes and seemed to deflate right in front of him.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that…can we just forget about it for now, talk about it later,” he begged, his voice hoarse as emotion swamped him as he looked at her, shoulders slumped, face averted from his.

He tried to pull her back into his arms. She pushed against him, saying, “Not this time, Brandan. You won’t get around me with sex. Not this time. I want you to go. Now,” she said, her face set, her eyes boring into his, unflinching.

“Leila…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“If you ever had anyone who you cared about taken from you, if you ever cared more about anyone than yourself, than you would understand
exactly
why that “run-down forgotten diner” means more to me than anything you’ll ever have. No amount of money in the world can replace that “run-down forgotten diner.” Obviously, this is something you’ll never understand, and I’m tired of trying to explain it to you.”

She said nothing more, just turned away from him and turned off the overflowing pot of noodles, setting it to the back burner of stove.

She removed her apron, hung it on one of the hooks, and turned off the light in the kitchen, as though he wasn’t even there.

Before she left the room, she turned, and faced him. “You know the way out.”

Brandan stared at her retreating back and bit back a curse as she walked toward a door that led to her bathroom, opened the door, and walked inside without a backwards glance. Seconds later, he heard the sound of pipes churning with water as she turned on her shower.