“I could ask you the same question.” I captured her gaze.
“I don’t like playing games, Trace. Why are youreallyhere? I mean, if you think you can just come over and get laid or something after not talking to me for two weeks, then you’re fucked in the head.”
“I don’t play games, and I didn’t come over here for that. In the nearly two weeks that I stayed away from you, I realized something.” I took the last gulp of my beer.
Her eyes narrowed and her arms pressed tighter against her chest. “What?”
“I missed you like hell.” Her eyes widened and her arms relaxed a bit. “Yeah. You’ve been a permanent resident in my mind for quite a while. I want to spend time with you.”
“What about your grandfather and the no-dating policy at work?”
“Fuck it. I feel something for you that I never have for a woman, and I’m pretty sure you’re feeling it too. If we throw in the towel now, we’ll never know if what we had was real or just lust. I suspect it’s more than that.”
“Do you really mean it? I don’t want you telling me this to charm your way into my pants. Men can be that way, and I’ve had my share of jerks.”
I stood up and walked over to her, cupped her chin, tipped her head back, and kissed her soft, enticing lips gently. A small whimper from her was like a lightning bolt to my cock. Then I smothered her lips and delved my tongue into her warm mouth. She tasted like chocolate and I thrust deeper, fueled by the sexy noises she made.
“Are you still mad at me?” The words brushed against her lips.
“Yeah, but you’re a great kisser,” she murmured and looped her arm around my neck, pulling me closer.
We kissed for a long time. I missed holding her, kissing her, and making love to her. I missed our conversations, listening to music together, and just being with her.
After a long time, she pulled away and cocked her head. Her face was flushed and her lips were red, slightly swollen, and glossy from my kisses.She’s gorgeous.
“I think we need to go slow. That may sound silly, but that’s what I want.”
I smiled. “I can do slow. Wait… how slow?”
She threw her head back and laughed, and I swept my lips over her collarbone, kissing the vibrating hollow at the base of her throat. I wasn’t sure what slow meant. I’d never gone slow with a woman in my life; I usually bagged a chick within twenty-four hours of meeting her—forty-eight tops. But Cierra was different, and if going slow was what she wanted and it made her happy, I was all for it.
“I don’t know. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”
We kissed some more, and then I told her I had to go to the bathroom. I had to take a break because, based on the way I was feeling and the way my dick was punching to get out, taking it slow wasn’t going to happen.
When I came back out, the smell of garlic, onions, and olive oil hit me in the gut. Cierra stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot. I wrapped my arms around her small waist, looking over her shoulder at tomato sauce bubbling away.
“It smells delicious.” I nuzzled her neck. “And so do you.”
She sank into me and craned her neck so her mouth met mine. “I hope you can stay for dinner.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Do you have any red wine? I can get a bottle or two.” KLJ Liquor was a neighborhood store down the hill and around the corner from her building. I’d been there many times before. It still blew my mind how many places I frequented that Cierra did too. It amazed me that we hadn’t run into each other before that night at Beta.
“That’d be great. I bought some amazing sausage at Nico’s Market. He makes his own, and the recipe was his great-great grandfather’s. Have you ever been there?”
“Yeah. It’s my go-to when I need an Italian sub fix. Did you get the spicy or mild?”
“Both. I like to mix them.”
I smacked her cute ass and left to buy the wine.
When her apartment building came into view, I saw the Lexus parked on the side and quickly crossed the street. The guy in the car was staring at the glass doors, and before I was close enough, he got out of the car and went inside the vestibule. I went a few feet past the building until I was out of sight from the guy standing there looking at the buzzers, then crossed the street and came back down. The man’s foot held the door open a crack, and when I heard Cierra’s voice over the intercom, I lost it.
Without thinking, I pulled open the door and the guy looked at me. “Why the fuck are you stalking Cierra?” I gripped his forearm.
“Trace, is that you? Who’re you talking to?”
The guy jerked out of my grasp and shoved me against the wall. I lost my footing and the two bottles of expensive Italian wine crashed to the ground. He stepped out on the sidewalk and rushed to his car.
