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“Get off me,” she yelped.
But he was already too addicted to the feel of her body against his. His arms locked around her waist, he maneuvered them around until he was half-seated on the edge of her desk and she was rammed in the vee of his thighs.
Chess tried to sock him, but he grabbed her wrist and pushed her arm until her fist was pressing into her ass. Frustrated and helpless because of the strength of his hold, she curtly demanded, “Let me go, Tazeem.”
He heard her words but he was too distracted to answer. He was mesmerized by the sensations that came with having her so close to him. Her jasmine perfume was like a drug; it left him high off of her. He could feel her voluptuous breasts pressing into his chest, her thick hips rubbing against his inner thighs, and her pussy pushing into his dick.
“Let me go, Tazeem,” she repeated more forcefully.
“I will,” he rasped, his voice deep because of the unbridled desire wreaking havoc in his system. He drew her even deeper into his body so she could feel just how hard his cock was. “Just as soon as you give me one kiss to make up for how you’re torturing me.”
“Torture?” Looking genuinely baffled, she arched backward to keep their bodies from being sealed so tightly. “How am I torturing you?”
“You mean you don’t know?” His lips kicked up in a crooked smile. “Are you telling me that you wore this skirt today without knowing how great your ass looked in it and how much it would turn me on?”
She scoffed. “I was not thinking about you when I dressed this morning.”
“And your perfume.” He noted, “You still wear the same one you used to, and you know how much it used to excite me. It still does.”
She rolled her eyes. “Again, wasn’t thinking about you when I put it on.”
“I wish you knew how much self-control it took for me not to yank you out of that meeting and have my way with you.” He yanked her even closer even as his dick grew against her mound. “You’re too sexy, Chess, and it’s killing me.”
In his wildest dreams, he would’ve hoped that his speech was enough to turn her on too. But the look in her eyes, as she stared at him in contemplative silence for quite some time, made it clear that that wasn’t what was happening to her. The irritation in her gaze was replaced by something resembling disdain.
When she spoke, there was no fury in her tone. Just unemotional curiosity. She asked, “Tazeem, what do you want for me?”
“I already told you.” He took his hand off her waist to cup her face. “Just one kiss to make up for the torture.”
“No, really.” She swatted his hand away from her face with her free hand. “What do you want from me?”
“Huh?” He was confused by the question.
“I’m just trying to figure out what’s your end goal here.” Scowling fiercely, she noted, “You’re acting like the last eight years didn’t happen. You’re forcing your way into my life, demanding my time, begging for kisses, and acting like I’m still your woman. And I can’t figure out why.”
Sarcasm oozed from her every word as she continued, “How do you expect me to react to all this? Are you waiting for me to just jump into your arms and happily scream ‘Welcome home’? Are you expecting me to just be okay with you sexually assaulting me every chance you get simply because we once dated… correction… because we slept together a couple of times eight years ago? What do you want for me?”
Her questions were like a bucket of water being thrown on a raging fire. He was rendered speechless, which was something he wasn’t used to.
“I- I-” he stammered as he tried to come up with a good answer. “I guess I just want your forgiveness.”
“My forgiveness?” She lowered her gaze to the hand that was still holding her right arm hostage behind her. “And you think this is how you’ll get it?”
Instantly, he let go of her. And she took several steps back.
The conversation had veered so suddenly and sharply into serious territory that he felt a little disoriented, “I’m sorry. I just got caught up in the moment. I… ah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is the only way you and I have ever been able to connect so I thought-”
“That’s the problem with you,” she cut him off. “You think that sex is everything, Tazeem. You always have. In your little mind, you’re probably assuming that once you and I have sex, everything will suddenly be fine between us. That I’ll forgive you for all the shit you put me through just because you give good dick.”
“That’s not what I think.”
“Thatiswhat you think,” she insisted. “And maybe you would’ve been right eight years ago, but I’m all grown up now, Tazeem. Things have changed. I’ve changed.”
“I’ve changed too.”
“Doesn’t look like it.” Sneering, she lowered her gaze to his still swollen groin. “I bet you’re still the same sex-addicted, skirt-chasing, immature, fuck-boy that I remember.”
He wanted to fervently deny all those accusations, but his twenty-two-year-old self sat in the back nodding along and reminding him that that was who he’d been eight years ago. But he wasn’t that twenty-two-year-old boy anymore.
