Tempting Me: A Bad Boy Romance (12 page)

Chapter 2-Devlin
 

I lick my lips with the hope of tasting the beauty with the thick thighs and perfect bubbly ass dancing in the purple dress. Her golden brown skin radiates under the pulsing lights, illuminating her like a work of art. Her unique copper-colored curled hair moves across her shoulders as she shifts her body like she has a reason to. At thirty, I’ve seen my share of females in the club, and had it not been for my best friend Kevin having a pre-celebration for his birthday, I wouldn’t have even bothered to come in. I like my women sexy and powerful. A woman who can wear six-inch heels and broker six-figure deals makes me want to turn her upside down and lick her until she screams. Those kind of women don’t frequent clubs. Taking on an executive role in the business that my father started has given me the opportunity to test my theory on several occasions.

“I see ya, partner,” Kevin says, slapping his hand against my back with a laugh. For the son of a billionaire, he is substantially down-to-earth. What I like most about him.

My family hadn’t always had the type of money that could last for generations. As a child, my father and mother had done well for us, distributing their African-American targeted beauty products from their barber and beauty salons and local hair care stores. The extraordinary money started rolling in when I was seven, and their products became marketed nationally.

Kevin had followed my line of vision to the woman in purple on the dance floor.

“I thought about you when I saw her,” he says. “The cool, quiet ones got you every time when we were younger.”

“You are definitely right.” I grin. “I gathered a few for you on the way in here,” I say, eyeing the women that trickled in with me when I arrived and walked through the club.

Before I started taming the tigresses, I couldn’t get enough of a quiet girl; the ones with a cool disposition but fire in their eyes. Once alone in the dark, the lioness would jump out as I jumped in. A challenge.

“I tried to get the friend to bring her up to the VIP, but Lady Purple was having none of that,” Kevin comments.

“Good looking out,” I let him know, peering at the long and shapely woman in purple. “I got it from here.”

***

The people in the room seem to separate like oil from water as I fulfill my mission to reach Lady Purple.

The woman dancing behind her slides away without hesitation, as though she knows that I need to be near her friend.

With eyes closed, Lady Purple, her trim waist holding up bountiful breasts, sways her thick hips from side to side to the pounding club music.

Lowering my body next to hers, I round my arms across her beckoning shape and follow her movements succinctly.

My body’s instant reaction to her surprises both of us.

With a sharp intake of breath, she turns quickly in my arms to face me.

“Wow,” she says over the music, a bashful smile covering her face, but her body doesn’t stop. A roll of her hip against me ignites a hunger for more.

“Hello,” I respond, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, all the while holding on to her. “You’re beautiful.”

Her widening smile overshadowed by the deepening move of her hips, I am drawn to the cradle of her graceful neck as her arms rest against mine.

Without a thought, I press kisses into the sweet-scented curve right above her collarbone.

The intense swelling that I feel at the taste of her is not normal. I am usually able to control myself. Women are like air, everywhere, but this one seems to have the power to remove it. I swallow hard, feeling as though the air has been thinned by the copper-haired sorceress in the purple dress. People, music, and time all cease to exist as I fall under the spell of her.

Her faint but audible pant and the methodical crush of her body against mine let me know that the feeling of my mouth against her skin is pleasurable.

“I want you,” I whisper to the glistening spot that I left on her butter-pecan colored skin before I take a fresh piece.

Tonight, I am going to show her what bump and grind is all about.

“Devlin!” I hear from somewhere in the distance. “Let’s go!”

The sorceress steps from my embrace, leaving an instant emptiness.

“Somebody is looking for you,” she says over the music.

Her downcast eyes worry me.

“Are you all right?” I ask, taking her face into my hand.

Her eyes take hold of mine and the beauty of her transfixes me.

“I…you are—” she sputters.

“Devlin, let’s roll out.” I look to my left and notice Kevin standing next to me, flanked by leggy, scantily clad women.

“I’m good, man,” I say, slapping his palm. “I’m just going to hang back.”

I look to my right and the enchanting woman is gone, lost to me for now. But hopefully not forever.

***

“Why are you here on a Saturday, son?” my father questions, walking into my office. “And why did you drag in your staff?”

“Going global is important. If you work for me, then you know that work comes first,” I repeat to him sternly.

In my head, I knew that one day my father would be old, but it didn’t occur to me how it would happen. How he would change in pieces. With cracks around his eyes, graying hair, rounding belly. He seems smaller, and now he’s getting softer, too. I remember him working day and night to keep this business bountiful.

“People have families, Devlin,” he scolds. “Many of your employees are starting to miss those families.”

I stop shifting the paper that I had been working on to explain to my father what I had explained to him before, and to every person that I’ve given the privilege to walk through my door as an employee.

“This job,
this
family, what they do here for us—provides for those that they are rushing home to be with. I bet whoever is complaining, and their families, like to be able to turn on lights when they are in their home. And I bet they like to have food to put on their tables,” I say with certainty. “I want to make sure that everything is in order for us to take
this
family, the one that matters to me, to a higher playing field. And I want to make sure I have everything set up before I head out with Kevin tonight,” I explain. “Who knows where we’ll end up? The last time he took the entire party from his house to Cancun on private jets.”

My father laughs sturdily from the gut.

“That Kevin. Can’t ever say that he doesn’t know how to have a good time,” my father acknowledges. “Unlike you.”

He takes a seat as his words become serious.

“I have fun,” I say, thinking about a few of my night exploits over the years.

“Not the women,” he says. “Do you do anything meaningful that brings you joy? Gives you a real smile, not that fake shit you push off on these other people,” he comments.

“I’m happy,” I say, signing a piece of paper and adding it to a folder.

“If you really were, then you wouldn’t be here,” he says slowly. “You’d be spending time with the people you care about.”

“I care about our business. Our family—you, David Jr., and Dana,” I tell him, as though he doesn’t already know. Sometimes, I feel like both my father and I remix the same conversation every time that we see each other. Same words, just arranged a little differently.

My father sighs and then stands.

“I sent your staff home, son,” my father says. “To put it in terms that you understand, there is no need for them to be in on overtime for a third week in a row,” he adds before leaving.

I continue working as though my father had never entered with his holier-than-thou attitude. As a child, I remember seeing him no more than once a week. It was Sheryl, my cook and nanny, who taught me the ropes and filled the hole that not having either one of my parents dug.

Both David Jr. and Dana—being twelve and ten years older than me—had long left the house when my mother Gladys passed. They may as well have stuck me in a closet with sunlight to grow alone.

I back my family beyond measure, but sometimes it seems as though they are all against me.

Chapter 3-Ayron
 

I ask the city’s new Director of Community Outreach and Development to repeat what she said. I couldn’t have heard her right.

The day had started off pleasantly enough. Norma’s home had passed inspection and was now considered habitable to live in. There was no traffic on the freeway back to the office. And Dr. Tirash was going to actually work his weekend shift, leaving me prime opportunity to enjoy my bed and a good book.

Everything had been going well until this thin woman with the sprouting weave pranced into my office with her short skirt suit. This turned the day from good to bad.

“This community center, along with several others, will be vacated within the month and demolished,” she says, with a stare in her eyes that dared for me to ask her again.

“Why now? Why so sudden?” I ask, anger filling my voice. The community center had become a home for me.

“The city is bleeding money trying to keep these places open, for people to what— abuse them? To forget about them? We have to focus on vital city services,” she huffs.

“Oh, ‘vital’, like paying you?” I snap.

She places a hand on her sliver of a hip.

“Yes. They pay me well to tie the tourniquet and try to squeeze out resources so that the city can survive. So you and your little social experiment are on a time clock,” she says, turning on her heels and exiting.

“And they say dragons don’t exist,” Ms. Agnes chimes in. “She’s a fire breather if I ever did see one.”

“She doesn’t scare me,” I let Ms. Agnes know. “She messed with the wrong girl.”

“Do you think that she may have been just a little upset that she had to stomp those expensive heels through our slum because you requested a face-to-face discussion through her supervisor?” she asks.

“The woman didn’t reply to my letter, voicemails, or emails. What was a girl to do?” I say innocently. My grandmother and I used to clean houses for some very important people with influence in the city. If she wanted a fight, I would give her one. “Please believe me when I say I will not be bullied or ignored.”

Ms. Agnes stands up and walks over to me. She places her hand on my shoulder.

“Honestly Ayron, baby girl, I think this is the push that you need to get your own place,” she says sincerely.

“I love the community center,” I gasp, trying to fight back tears.

“But you are better than this. You should have some swanky office uptown, getting paid way more to do way less.”

“This is my home. This is where I started. Where I began,” I justify.

“And do you still wear your first bra, too?” she mocks. “You of all people know that change happens whether you like it or not, and it’s not always for the worse.”

I hug my employee who at some point had become more to me.

“I’m so glad to have you,” I tell her. “I’ll start looking for some options this week.”

“Good, now let me start hiding all the good stuff. That klepto girl you work with will be here in a little bit.”

I laugh at Ms. Agnes all the way back to my office to lock up my tablet and purse.

The thud that explodes from the front halts my laughter.

The five steps from my office to the front door where Ms. Agnes lies on the floor don’t take long, but I know that I’ll remember them forever.

I immediately whip out my phone and call 9-1-1 in a panic. It is one of the most terrifying nights of my life.

***

“Monique, can you come to the hospital? I am here,” I tell her over the phone early in the morning.

“Huh, is everything okay?” she asks, sounding worried.

“Just come as soon as you can. I need someone,” I say, crying.

“Okay, girl, hang tight! I will be there soon,” she reassures me.

***

“Yes, honey, I am feeling this spot and the men that come along with it,” Monique comments as we walk through a third floor office rental space. “And the floor-to-ceiling window gives you the perfect view of who is coming and going,” she adds. “Hopefully you will be on the receiving end of all the
cumming
, but –"

“Nasty,” I say, popping Monique on the hand.

“I’m just saying.” She laughs. “There were some nice pieces in the lobby. One could slip right on into your office, and then slip right on into your
space
, without you having to be bothered with all the formalities of dating and dinner.”

“Why are you so concerned with who’s sleeping in my space?” I ask half-jokingly.

“Why am I concerned with your breathing?” she responds. “You’re my friend and I care about you. I haven’t seen you remotely happy since Lance.”

I let my eyes roll all the way around in my head before speaking to my friend.

“That was a year ago. I am over that. Over everything about him,” I reply with certainty.

“It’s almost been three years, Ayron,” Monique corrects, “and you haven’t dated anyone since.”

“I don’t need a man to make me happy.” I shrug. “Help me find a place that I can afford. That is what I need. This place is beautiful, but three times the amount that I pay at the community center.”

“Sorry to tell you, but you are going to pay a sweet price for something nice,” Monique comments. “I pay more for my shoes than you pay at the community center.”

“Well, help a sister out with this bill then.”

“That’s why I’m trying to find you a man,” she explains. “A bill man is easy to find, because cute is not a requirement. In fact, the uglier he is, the harder he’ll work for you.”

Laughter is the only response that I can give, and I plop down in the center of the floor.

“The dream was nice while it lasted,” I sigh.

“No. Get up. You
can
do this,” Monique commands.

I shake my head; the moment had suddenly become stone boulders that are pushing me against the floor. Everyone and everything was changing.

“Since my granny has been gone…” I start, but realize there is more emotion there than I originally thought. I swallow back an urge to cry. “I feel like I’m spinning my wheels.”

Monique sat with me.

“And now Ms. Agnes is in the hospital,” I cry. “What if she doesn’t make it?”

“Ayron, a lesser woman would have fallen apart under the pressure that you’ve faced, but you came out a diamond, shining. You can do this,” she says as she puts her arms around me.

I lose the battle with my tears and hug her back.

“She doesn’t have any family, Mo, and I provide crappy insurance,” I expel before Monique hugs me. “I want to be able to help her.”

“Can I get you to think about you for a just a minute now and again?” Monique sighs. “Agnes has lived her life and lived it well.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t care.” I sniffle.

Her fingertips swipe at my tears.

“On the bright side, this is definitely the office for you. Even without the shrink couch, this place has gotten tears to fall,” Monique jokes. “I don’t remember ever seeing you cry.”