Teasing Hands (4 page)

“What are you drinking?” Jennifer yelled over the music as we walked toward the VIP sections. “I’m in a vodka kind of mood.”

“With OJ?” It was the only way, in my book, to drink vodka.

“Is there any other way?”

“I want mine with cranberry instead,” Court added then shook her head at some overdone pretty boy who tried to pull her into a dance.

Jennifer nodded and pulled a silent Steph along with her to the private bar close by. We found our section and sat down. It seemed the rest of our team was already out on the floor.

“Have you heard from Hunter yet?” Court’s question caught me off guard. We didn’t mention him often, let alone say his name, the conversation we had in Jennifer’s bedroom being a rarity.

“No.” He was the last person I wanted to see. I was over his lies and my mother’s desire to see me back with him.

How did one walk away from the person they claimed to love because they wanted to explore? What kind of heartless person just went off to college to sample the buffet without feeling the guilt afterward?

Hunter broke my heart simply because he wanted to
be able to fuck around guilt-free, without our relationship stopping him.

“Do you want to hear from him?”

What the fuck was she getting at?
“Again, no. Why are we even talking about him?”

She sighed and looked pas
t my shoulder and toward the bar. “I heard he was back.”

My chest constricted. Fuck
, did it hurt. “What? When?”

“Don’t know, just heard he was around
, and asking.” Her eyes snapped back to mine, and the sadness there made my own eyes water. “Just don’t want to see you lose yourself, Mandi. When he left, it was like you left too.”

Rubbing a hand over my face, I took in a deep breath. It didn’t help. The sting was still there.
“I don’t love him anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She tilted her head to the side and studied me. “That’s good to know, but—”

“No ‘but’. He lost me the moment he threw us away.”

Courtney seemed satisfied by my answer and let the conversation drop as the others neared. Steph passed her a drink
, and the two shared a look.

“Wait a minute,” I hissed and slammed my hand on the table. “Is that what…fuck! Did you see Hunter?”

Steph took a huge gulp of her drink and nodded. “He came to practice while you were out with the flu.”

That son of a bitch. What the fuck
did he even think coming to see me would solve? It’s been two years, dammit.

“Fuck him, Mandi.” Jennifer pushed
a drink into my hand and urged me to take a sip. I did, and the cold, citrusy liquid felt good going down. Smooth. It warmed me a bit and I began to relax.

“You’re right
. Fuck him. Hunter Knox will not ruin my night.” The girls applauded and pulled me out to the dance floor. I let the island rhythms take me away from thoughts of him. My body moved to the beat, a slow sensual roll of my hips that caught the eyes of a few men on the floor.

A few women
, too.

Not interested.

Closing my eyes, I dreamed of finding the right man. How he’d hold me close as we danced, his body dwarfing mine, making me feel small and delicate. Safe.

He would be tall…

“One so beautiful should never wear such a sad expression.” The whispered words against my neck made me gasp. The arms of the stranger wrapped around me and pulled me tight against his chest.

A hard chest. Defined. All man.

“What—” I began and tried to turn in his arms. Those arms tightened around me, halting my movement.             

“Shhh, beautiful. Let me hold you.” It was a rough plea.

Nodding, I complied and started to move against him. My insides fluttered as he skimmed his lips along my throat. Goosebumps rose all over my skin when he kissed me, twice, below my ear. It was erotic—gratifying to feel wanted.

“I’d like to see you.” The neediness in my tone caught me off guard.
Fuck
.

“I’ve had my eyes on you all night.” He groaned, pushing his hardened cock against my ass.

I should have been appalled. Pissed by his actions.

It had the opposite effect.

“Then why did it take you so long to approach?” Swiveling my hips, I dropped down low, and worked my way up his body. With each gyration against him, he pushed harder, using my fleshy rear to create the friction he needed.

Hard. Thick. Big.

“Just biding my time. There was no doubt in my mind that I’d have you by the end of the night.”
Cocky son of a bitch.

Before he co
uld stop me I turned around. My eyes met his…and then it went dark. Pitch-black dark inside the club. People complained while I stood still.

His eyes
had been wild like the sea and just as beautiful. They were all I was able to focus on for the two seconds I had him in front of me.

The light flickered twice and I reached out for him. He grabbed my hand
then tugged me closer until I felt his heat. Like a wild inferno that raged within my veins, it burned to have him this close.

“I’ll see you again
,” my stranger whispered before his lips met mine in a gentle kiss. It was the complete opposite of every moment we’d shared on the dance floor.

“How? What’s your name?”

“Trust me.” He nipped my bottom lip once more, and then he was gone. I was left in the middle of the dance floor horny and confused.

The lights came back on then. Everyone around me continued with
their night of fun while I suffered the loss of him. All I had of my sexy stranger were his smoldering eyes, and it wasn’t enough.

I needed more to satisfy the sudden thirst he
’d created.

5

“Amanda Kailey Brooks, for God’s sake, child,” my mother yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Get down here. You’re going to make us late.”

It had been four days since I agreed to her daughter/mother day
, and she was already pushing my buttons. Didn’t help that it had also been four days of extreme sexual frustration. A frustration so consuming that I felt lost.

Four days since the club
, and I couldn’t get him, or his haunting eyes, out of my mind. So much so, that I’d woken up twice since that night with my hand down my panties and those enslaving eyes pushing me toward my euphoric descent.

No one, not even Hunter, ha
d sparked this much desire from me. And all we’d done was dance.

“
Hurry up,” she called again, exasperated.

“Dear God,” I whimpered
while my eyes adjusted and I looked over at my alarm clock. It was barely nine in the morning.
Why me?
Taking in a deep breath, I swung my legs over the bed then stumbled across my room and into the closet.

“I’m
coming!”

“If we miss our appointments…”
she began.

“Keep it up
, and I’ll go back to bed. Pain in the butt old lady.” The last part I muttered under my breath. Stupid, I was not.

“Do it and I’ll pour a bucket of freezing cold water on your head
while you snore.”

“Keep pushing
, and I’ll wear the rattiest sweats and tank I own.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she huffed. I heard the cre
ak of the stairs as she made her way up.

“You know I would.”

“Mandi, please.” She stood outside my door now, dressed in a simple coral dress and tan-colored sandals. “We need to leave in an hour, and your breakfast is getting cold—”

“Why didn’t you start by mentioning the food first? I’m starved.”

Mom laughed and joined me in the closet. “You’re always hungry.” She reached out to pull out a short white sundress for me to wear. I’d forgotten about that one. It was soft and comfortable. Perfect.

“
Which shoes? The gold pair that wrap up my calves or the plain white flats?”

“Definitely the gold pair.” Mom grabbed the shoes in question and pushed them into my hands. “Now hurry up
—I made pancakes.”

“Yes, drill sergeant!”

Her eyes narrowed as she came closer. I had no chance to defend myself. She attacked me with the towel that lay over the overstuffed chair inside my walk-in.

“Quit it!”

“Promise me you’ll be ready in thirty and I will.”

“Cross my heart
.” I giggled and dodged her next hit. “Where did you learn to use that as a weapon?”

“Your father and I—”

“Okay.” Gagging, I pulled the towel away. “Stop right there. That’s more than I need to know, plus I need to get ready. So, out.”

“And they say I’m the overdramatic one.” With that
, she gave me a kiss and walked out. The entire exchange had left me with fifteen minutes to shower and eat.

Happy pampering day to me
.

“About time.”

Ignoring my mother’s jab, I walked over to the table and sat down. My plate was already stacked with pancakes, the butter and syrup placed in the center of the table.

The noises my stomach made
caused me to blush.

Mom laughed
then set a glass of orange juice beside my plate. “Eat.”

“Do we have time?” I asked drowning the flapjacks in syrup.

“Yes.” She sighed. “I called and pushed back our appointments. We have an extra hour.”

Good.
In all honesty, I wasn’t in any hurry to get up and spend my day with the pretentious women that resided here. The Coco Plum in Coral Gables was known for its opulence and ridiculously rich families in Miami.

It was an area where every house was bigger
than the last, and how much money you had was all that mattered. Not everyone was like that though—no, not everyone.

My best friend Courtney Ellis and her family were one of those rare ge
ms. Courtney never relied on her beauty to get ahead in life. Sure, she was aware of the effect she had on the opposite sex with her bright red hair, wide green eyes, and tight athletic body. She stood for something, though; she was more than a just another pretty face in the crowd. Her measure in life didn’t come from what her father bought her or the kind of car she drove.

“Love you, Mom.”

“Brat.” She huffed, trying to look put out but it didn’t work. A smirk graced her lips when I stuck my tongue out at her.

Looking over at the juice, I eyed it with disdain. Shoving anther forkful of food in, I chew
ed and swallowed before speaking. “Can I have coffee instead?”

“Too much caffeine is bad for you.”

Bullshit
. She drank more coffee and soda than anyone I knew. “But—”

Mom rolled her eyes and held her hand up. “Drink that, and I’ll get you something caffeinated to go.”

I didn’t want
something
, I wanted coffee. However, instead of complaining and annoying her any further, I simply ate and enjoyed my food. “So.” I took a sip of the juice and grimaced. The bitterness of grapefruit never sat well with me. It tasted horrible. “What’s on the agenda today? What should I be prepared for?”

“I want you to get a trim with some possible low-lights framing your face. Then, I want you to be worked out—a deep-tissue massage should do the trick. I’m sure you will find perfection there.”

“Anything else?” I asked, pointing my fork at her.

“Nope.”

That reply came too fast. It didn’t help settle my nerves. “By the way, you keep mentioning that I’ll love who you picked. Should I be concerned? Does Dad know about this masseur fetish/fascination you seem to have?”

Mom rolled her eyes, but the smile never vanished. “Absolutely not. Just thought you might find what you’ve been missing.” That was vague. “Enjoy the eye candy, Mandi. Just not too much, he’s…”

“He’s what?”

“Too old for you.”

Well, there went my visions of someone hot with magical hands. The last thing I wanted was some old pervert feeling me up. After that declaration, I went back to eating a lot slower than before. By that point, I was annoyed and didn’t want to go.
Why couldn’t she just let me be?

I would never be like her, but she would never stop dreaming.

Mom had fantasies of things that would never be. Of a wedding with the perfect candidate in her eyes—with me dressed in white, and being walked down the aisle to the man she wished for me.

“Go
od morning, girls.” Dad snorted when he entered the kitchen with two white paper bags in hand. He’d been to the Cuban bakery down the street already, thank God. “What are the plans for today?”
As if he didn’t know.

Mom laughed and sidled up next to him, her hands going around his waist
while she hugged him tight. “Just spending the day together. You know, girl time.”

“Can it
, you two,” I hissed and grabbed my bag. “I’m being sent off for torture, and you two laugh.”

Dad raised a brow and turned to look at
Mom. “She got the dramatic flair from you, dear.”

“I’ve never denied it, love.” Mom squeezed him tight once more, then pulled away and walked toward the counter where a to-go cup sat. With her back turned to us, she poured some hot liquid in and placed the lid on top. “Ready?”

“What’s this?”

“Your something caffeinated
,” she stated, giddiness coloring her tone. Dad tried to hide his chuckle as I took a sip of the piping hot liquid.

What the fuck?

“No.” I was ready to commit murder as she pushed me toward the front door. Why would she think that green tea would ever be a good substitute for coffee? What had I ever done to warrant such cruelty?

“
Stop pouting,” she said while giggling. “It’s good for you.”

“
Then you drink it and hand over the
colada
Dad brought you.”

“
Now, Mandi,” Dad began, “be nice to your mother. She's only trying to do something nice for you.”

“Dad,
you know I love you, right?”

“
What’s it going to cost me?” He shook his head with arms crossed over his chest and stared me down.

“
Oh, my God! I only did that once, and you refuse to let it go. You’re worse than Mom.”

They gasped and then busted out laughing. My parents were the shit.

Going to school so close to home afforded me the luxury of living at home. I still had the pleasure of morning banters and family meals. It was fun. They weren’t into smothering me so I had the freedom to come and go as I pleased.

Eyeing the cup of Cuban coffee in her hand, I took a step toward her.
“If it’s so good, why don’t we switch?”

A war
was seconds away from erupting within the Brooks’ home if she didn’t hand it over.

Mom shook her head while taking a sip. “Nope.”

I glared and reached out for the Styrofoam cup. “Give it.”

“
Have fun, girls. I’m off to the office,” Dad interrupted and kissed both our cheeks. “I trust you both to be on your best behaviors—don’t need to receive any phone calls today complaining about bratty mothers and stubborn daughters. Understand?”

“
Yes, sir.” We both mock saluted and gave him a hug. The man was a saint to put up with our craziness.

“
Come on, missy. Time’s a wasting and there's much to do.” She gave me the rest of the hot concoction in her hand. The first sip tasted like heaven.

“
Why do I feel like I’ve sold my soul to the devil?”

“
Because you did.” Mom looked entirely too proud of herself. It scared me more than the threat of hair color and strange hands molding my flesh ever would.

She was up to something; I just didn’t know what…yet.