Three of Diamonds (Hamden Series) (10 page)

He replayed the events of only a short while ago, in his head. Like the last several weeks, hell, the last few months, his mind had been preoccupied by long black hair and beautiful round hips. The kind of hips, which he could hold onto, while his erection thrust deeply, into warm inviting heat. He had come here, to Olympus, as he always did, but not for any sort of release. If anything, it brought his wants and desires closer to the surface. Nothing here interested him enough. Bare skin dressed in little that left to the imagination; a nymphomaniac’s version of mental foreplay. But the fact remained none that he saw, could or would, call to him enough for him to want to indulge. So, he found himself staring out at the stars, wondering what a certain bartender was doing. The profanity filled snare coming from Lycus, pulled him from his thoughts. When he looked, he saw what was becoming an all too familiar sight as of late; Lycus cornering and intimidating.

Lycus was becoming a huge problem for Wes and Olympus. He was abusing his power, and that didn’t sit right with Wes. Not when it involved responsibility of harassment or worse, assault. When he pulled his body away from the cowering smaller one, Wes wanted to take all his frustration out right then. But he controlled it, Jax was there doing his job, keeping order and cleaning up messes. Wes will never get the vision out of his head of those stormy gray eyes, looking back at him through her mask. He couldn’t explain it, it was almost as if her gaze was a reflection back to his own.

He knew Jax was right, he shouldn’t be here, trying to talk to her, but as if his feet were under their own command, here he was. He thumped his head again, harder than before, hoping the pain would give him something else to focus on. This was the position he was in when Jax came back.

Looking around to ensure they were alone, Jax said to his old friend, “Wes, what the hell are you doing? How do you know Lola?”

Wes looked at the other man, his friend from Syracuse. While in college, Wes was nose to the books, while Jaxon Bennett was playing football, reaping the rewards of Division I starting Center. When not on the field could be found between the thighs of any willing female.

“Hell if I know Jax! When I saw Lola, it was like I didn’t have control over any of my actions. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she is. She’s a tough one, that girl. But I still don’t get how you know her or if you do, how she came to get this job around all your safe measures.” Jax asked as he settled into a wide leg stance and crossed his bulging arms over his equally powerful chest. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“As far as the job, I have no idea, but it is definitely a maddening coincidence and a worse development. The fact of how I know her is…she haunts me. When I’m awake, when I’m asleep, all I see is her.” Wes answered knowing he could trust Jax with anything.

Jax tried to hide his smile, but as usual, he failed miserably. So there was a woman that could cause Wes Thompson to lose all his control. Jax planned on having a front row seat to this once in a lifetime event.

“Feel free to wipe the shit eating grin off your face at any point. She’s a beautiful woman, who wouldn’t think about her?” Wes said angrily. Being pissed off at Jax, would help him get his focus back.

“She is definitely gorgeous. And that body, damn! She was made for guilty pleasures. After all she’s thick, and us black men prefer thick on our dicks.” Jax knew he was goading Wes, and the way his old friend stood to his full height of 6’2”, and his nostrils flared, confirmed Jax definitely got under his skin with his last remark.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that. Ever!” Wes hissed, becoming nauseous at the thought of Lola anywhere near Jax stack.

“I’m just messing with you. I mean after all, you are Adonis, God of Desire!” Jax chuckled knowing saying the meaning of Wes’ branded club name, always aggravated him. But he also knew he needed to give a warning too. “Just be careful. Lola is something special, she’s not like these other chicks. They broke the mold when they made her. And I would hate to have to rearrange a friend’s face for damaging her.”

Little did Jax know, Wes would be willing to offer his skull up for Jax punishment if it came to that.

Wes stood at the apartment door, hesitant to knock. He could hear the television through the door, sounded like a party going on. Looking at his watch, 10:18 am, he doubted she would be having company. With the bag of muffins under his arm and the cardboard tray holding two Styrofoam cups, he finally wrapped his knuckles on the door. He thought for a moment she wasn’t going to answer, but then the door opened. The person on the other side was not Lola. The boy that answered had wavy dark hair that stuck up in the back like Alfalfa. He stood at about five feet even. His brown eyes were slanted upward slightly, flowing into a pushed in nose. His stocky arm held onto the door, allowing it to be open only wide enough for his head to see out, while his opposite hand fiddled with the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Who are you?” the young man asked, in a thick, saliva filled voice.

“Hey, my name is Wes, I’m looking for Lola, is she around?” Wes answered, putting together Lola’s connection with Aaron’s Place.

“She’s in the shower. Why you here?” he asked completely at ease with his question.

Wes couldn’t help but smile. Why was he here indeed? “I’m supposed to be working with Lola on a project, but she hasn’t returned my calls. So, I thought I’d come and bribe her with a couple of muffins and coffee. Think that will work?” Wes asked hoping the young man would allow him passage inside. “Are you her dad?” Wes asked hoping humor would give him a leg up.

“Nah, I’m Boyd, her brother. Lola only likes chocolate chip muffins. You got any of them?”

“Darn, no. I have a couple of blueberry and a couple of corn. Am I going to be in trouble for getting the wrong kind?” Wes answered.

“I like blueberry, I’ll eat it.” And with that, the door swung open. Wes watched as Boyd took the bag from his hold, and walked over to the sofa and dug in.

Wes walked in, closing the door behind him, looking around at the small but clean space. He could hear the water running in the shower. He deposited the cardboard tray on the small breakfast bar, and walked toward the sofa.

“So what game you playing?” He pointed to the paused television screen.

“Guitar Hero. I’m the best. Just because I got Down’s doesn’t mean I can’t play. I beat my friends and Lola all the time. I love rock and roll.” Boyd explained, around a mouth full of muffin.

“Never thought you wouldn’t be able to play. You know, I’ve been known to tickle the strings a time or two. Mind if I have a go? Wes answered hoping to get into a conversation with Boyd. At this point, he’d be grateful for any ally he could get.

“Okay. But I get to pick the song.” With that, Wes accepted the plastic guitar and gave his attention to the screen.

The water had yet to turn cold, which only reminded Lola how long she had been standing under the spray. She never indulged in a long shower, but this morning she just couldn’t help it. She leaned against the old tiled shower wall, and felt the coolness of tiles in contrast to the heat of the water. Knowing that the water would run cold shortly, Lola turned the warm decadence off, and pulled the towel down from the nearby shelf. She wrapped the scratchy terrycloth around herself, letting out a sigh as the material pulled when she cinched it over her chest. She wrapped another towel around her head, turban style. After brushing her teeth, she opened the bathroom door, allowing the steam filled air to flow out into the tiny hall.

“Buddy-Boyd, time is up with that video game, you are going to rot your…” Lola couldn’t believe her eyes. Wes Thompson stood in her living room. The gorgeous specimen of testosterone was doing his best imitation of Slash, complete with stance, as his fingers danced across the guitar neck, while Paradise City blared from the television. If this wasn’t enough of a shock, there was Boyd, mimicking the other man’s actions, as he stood and bounced on the sofa.

Unable to help it, she just stood there gaping at the duo. Neither one of them was even aware she entered the room. Lola was annoyed that he would have the audacity to just show up at her home, and apparently Boyd doesn’t screen visitors very well.

Boyd was the first to notice her presence. He stopped bouncing, but his wide grin remained in place. “Lola! Wes is awesome.” As he picked up where he left off playing air guitar.

At the mention of her name, Wes halted his performance and looked at her. Oh God, if he didn’t have her occupying enough of his brain, the image of her wet from her shower, standing in only a towel that showed off her shapely fantasy creating physique, was now permanently imprinted there. The towel itself was not very long, so it stopped inappropriately high on her milky thighs. He couldn’t help his eyes roaming from her towel head down to her bare blue glittered colored toenails. As the screen confirmed he had lost the round, Wes turned to his challenger and conceded. “As you said, you, Boyd, are the Guitar Hero King.”

“What are you doing here?” Knowing it came out more of an accusation than a question.

Walking toward his forgotten coffee, he answered, “You’ve stood me up the last ten design meetings I’ve set up, so I thought I would just go for broke and come to you.” Taking a sip of the still warm brew, he continued, “The fact that I can see you like this, is just the added bonus.”

At his words, she looked down at her appearance, and quickly dashed out of the room. She returned a few minutes later in a pair of faded jeans that covered her like a second skin. She wore an old concert t-shirt, that on anyone else would look juvenile, but looked adorable on her. Her black hair was now down in wet clusters. She continued to towel dry them as she walked past him, and open the ancient refrigerator.

“I brought you coffee,” Wes said, sounding casual as he tried to not focus on the wet spots appearing on her shirt in a provocative place.

Still not understanding why he was here, in her kitchen, she snapped, “I don’t drink girlie coffee. Cream and sugar are for twits.”

Wes just smiled, “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t consider you a twit. And I ordered you a black coffee, by the way.” He handed the Styrofoam cup to her, and tried to hide his growing grin behind his own cup, which he brought to his lips.

Of course, he would guess right. I swear if I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all
. She accepted the cup and took a hasty sip. The bitter flavor seeped onto her tongue and she felt the immediate shock of caffeine zing into her system. She knew black coffee was an acquired taste. One she forced herself to acquire when she was working, going to school, and caring for Boyd, when he first came to live with her. Wow, has it really already been thirteen years? Knowing he was staring at her, she needed to come back to the present and find out how to get rid of Wes, permanently.

“Let’s quit with the friendly coffee visit bullshit, what are you doing here?” She asked as she tried not to notice how scrumptious he looked in jeans and a blue t-shirt. The color made his already gorgeous eyes, sparkle that much more. He didn’t shave this morning, so the scruff of facial hair gave him a just out of bed look, that was not helping her vivid imagination.

“I told you, you’ve blown me off and this project for Aaron’s Place needs to get done, so I’m here for only professional reasons.” He said, knowing how stupid the reason sounded, but was the one he was sticking with. After all, he didn’t want to completely piss her off all in one swoop, well any more than he already had.

Trying to keep her voice low enough to not alert Boyd to her discomfort of having Wes in their apartment, seeing where they lived. He was probably mentally revolted at the shabby place they called home. But she would not let him make her feel embarrassed for it. She has worked hard for what they had. It may not be a fancy place, but it was dry and safe.

“Look, you and I both know, I have no knowledge of architectural design. I researched equestrian programs to help special need kids. That is all, nothing special. So really this partnership, as you call it, is pointless.” Taking another peak toward Boyd, she watched as he changed the game option and threw himself into the next level without a thought to the two adults in the room. “As far as the other reason…you figured it out? Happy? Now that the big puzzle is out of the way, you can leave me the hell alone!”