Pink Champagne (8 page)

Read Pink Champagne Online

Authors: Nicole Green

“Caleb,” she said.

“Yeah?” His voice was deep, gruff. She wanted to feel it rumbling against her while her head rested on his chest.

“Eat quickly.”

“Will do.” He gave her a small smile. They walked toward the apartment.
 

Ron pulled the door open right after Quenby knocked.

“Quenby. Always good to see you, girl,” Ron said over loud jazz music, grabbing her and swinging her up into a bear hug. He was almost a foot taller than her, and she wasn’t short. He had the build of the star basketball player he’d been all the way through high school and college. His pale blue Oxford shirt contrasted nicely with his chocolate brown skin. He wore his hair cut close and waved. He looked a little like Blair Underwood, and he was yet another good reason for the no-dating-amongst-friends-rule. A rule Macon had broken—and paid the price for breaking.

“You, too,” Quenby said.

He put her down and held his hand out to Caleb. “I’m Ron.”

“Caleb.” Caleb shook Ron’s hand.

“Yeah. I’ve heard some things about you.” Ron glanced over his shoulder into the apartment. Then he stepped back. “Come in, you two. Hey, is that my protein powder?”

“Yeah.” Caleb handed over the bag after Ron closed the front door behind them.
 

“Hey, man, you’re all right,” Ron said. “I don’t care what Adia says about you.”

“You better be joking,” Quenby said.

Ron laughed and shrugged.

“Speaking of Adia, I’m going to go in there and tell him to hurry it up. I’m starving.” Quenby took the wine to the kitchen while Ron and Caleb stayed in the living room and talked. Adia stood at the stove, frowning over a pan of salmon, which rested on the stovetop.

“This look done to you?” he asked.

“Sure. Salmon doesn’t take that long to cook. How long did you have it in there?”

“Uh…not sure…”Adia squinted at the clock over the stovetop as if that would help him remember.

“Give me a fork.”

“Can do.”

As she tested the salmon, Quenby said, “Be nice tonight. Please.”

“Haven’t I been?”

“I mean…don’t scare him off, okay?”

“I didn’t invite you over here with any ulterior motives.”

“Of course you did.”

They laughed.

“Yeah. Of course I did. But I have no plans to scare him off, okay?”

“Good.”

“He’s leaving soon anyway, isn’t he?”

“Yep.”

“Good,” he muttered.

She jabbed the fish. “Done.”

“Well then. We can eat.”

Quenby leaned against the counter, crossed her arms over her chest, and watched Adia carry the fish toward the doorway.

He looked back at her. “Coming?”

“In a minute.” She forced a smile.

He shrugged and continued out to the dining room, greeted by Ron’s exclamation that Adia was trying to starve them all. She laughed softly.

She stared through the doorway at the Picasso print that hung on the wall opposite the kitchen. She didn’t see the painting, though. Instead, she saw Derek and Lisa. Derek looking like nothing was wrong.
No, worse.
Blaming her for his jackassery.
 

What was she doing with Caleb? Was it just some stupid way to get back at Derek? Maybe Adia was right. This was all crazy and stupid. She could tell that was what he thought even if he hadn’t said it in so many words.

The idea was not to think about what happened that week.
To just enjoy a rebound fling.
But maybe that was the wrong idea.

#

The dinner was a very good thing. Caleb didn’t trust himself alone with her a minute longer. That in the hallway had been dangerous. He’d acted too much on what he’d wanted to over the past few days. He knew how it looked, but he didn’t want their time together to be a meaningless fling. It was very important to him that she not see him as just some creep trying to prey on her while she was on the rebound.

She looked even better to him when she was out of his grasp. Like she was now, sitting across the table from him. She kept toying with the thin gold chain she wore, bringing his attention back to that delicate neck of hers. He wanted to taste the skin there again. He remembered the feel of it under his tongue yesterday. He moved down to her blouse. She’d left the top couple of buttons unbuttoned, leaving just a suggestion of cleavage—enough to torture him with thoughts of what was underneath.

Back up to that face. The coppery brown perfection of it.
Her slightly rounded cheeks adding just a little red.
The way her smile lit up her whole face just did something to him—made him lose every bit of common sense and rational thought he owned.
The shape of her big brown eyes.
Every bit of her was beauty that transported him. If he could only look at one thing for the rest of his life, he would choose her face, no contest.

He didn’t care if he was going back to Georgia in a few days. He wanted more than the one thing she suspected him of wanting. That meant he had to try to ignore his most immediate want. He’d gone far enough over the past few days; further than he’d meant to for sure. It was time to pull back.

But touching her. Every moment had been ten seconds of heaven. And he wished he could have drawn it out even longer. Every time he’d felt her skin under his or her lips on any part of him had been worth the aching he now felt wanting her so badly and the difficulty he now had what with all the blood in his body having gone between his legs.

He thought about those long, shapely legs now safely hidden beneath the table. He was glad his lower half was hidden beneath that same table. Just so he wouldn’t forget to do it later, he un-tucked his shirt when no one was looking.

She kept accusing him of not knowing anything about her. That wasn’t the way he wanted things. He didn’t want to scare her off, but she had no idea how hard it was for him to give her the space she probably needed after all that had happened with Derek. He knew what it was like having to put a lying, cheating lover behind you after all.

She wouldn’t want to hear about how he felt so soon after Saturday. She was sure to think it was all an act. Still, he didn’t have much time left. He had to leave for Georgia on Sunday or else risk not only trouble at school, but the wrath of Mama Fletcher-Smith as well. Over the next few days, had to find a way to get closer to her that didn’t make her think he was a creep with ulterior motives. He didn’t want to think about the problems him living in Georgia presented. He hadn’t gotten that far yet. Besides, that wouldn’t even be a hurdle if he couldn’t get past Quenby’s quite reasonable suspicions of his intentions.

Quenby nudged his calf under the table with her naked foot. He dropped his fork and looked up in time to catch her devious smile before she went back to talking to Adia. He cursed himself for not wearing thicker pants—jeans or something—and her for having those long sexy legs.

What he really needed to do was get rid of the boner that was making it hard for him to sit still. But there was no way to do that at the moment that wouldn’t turn him into an exhibitionist and throw him out of favor with everyone in the room. So he decided to try to get his mind off it.

He turned to Ron and started up a conversation. “So you’re in marketing?”

Ron nodded as he finished chewing a mouthful of spinach green salad. “Yeah. I work for a small firm downtown. Just until I go back to school to get my MBA.”

“Sounds good. You like it?”

“Love it.” Ron went on to tell Caleb about the job, but he could barely concentrate on the man’s words.

He caught her gaze across the table, and they smiled at each other. It was useless. His mind wandered back to Quenby now matter how hard he tried to think of something besides how much he wanted her.

 

 

 

Chapter 10

She unlocked the door and hurried him inside. She refused to wait one moment longer.

She dropped her bag to the floor. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.” She reached under her skirt, pulled off her panties, and jumped onto his hips, wrapping her legs around him. He backed her against the door as they bit and kissed at each other’s lips.

“I don’t want you to think—” he began.

“I don’t want you to think, either,” she whispered, unbuckling his jeans.

“Hold on a minute.” He put her down and she began to protest. He grabbed his wallet, pulled out a condom, and tossed the wallet on the floor. Unzipping his pants, he slipped the condom onto his erection and grabbed her by the hips. She climbed back onto him, and he pinned her to the wall. He pushed her skirt up to her hips, and entered her fully with one thrust. She squeezed her calves against his buttocks as he drove into her again and again, giving her the mindless screw she needed.

Her breathing ragged at his ear, she wrapped her arms around him, trying to get more leverage, to grind against him, but she was so weak with desire, all she could really do was melt in the incredible sensation that his thrusts created inside of her.

She’d never come during a quickie, so didn’t expect the tension to rise and everything to tighten inside of her the way it did after only a few strokes. She gasped in his ear, let out a rich moan that came from deep inside her, and buried her hands in his hair as he dug his fingers into her hips and pumped into her a few, last, good, hard times.

When it was over, he gently set her on the floor and pressed his hot forehead to hers. They stared at each other as their breathing slowed.

He started to speak, and she put her fingers over his lips.

“Again,” she said.

He took her hand, used his other hand to hold up his jeans so that he could walk, and led her to her bedroom.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

All week, Quenby had used Caleb being in town as an excuse to not work out, but she’d been glad to go to the gym when Indigo called earlier that day. Indigo had seemed a little disappointed by not getting to go into her full routine of guilting Quenby about not working out.

Quenby hated the treadmill, but the days were getting shorter, and she didn’t do running outside after dark in the cold. Just wasn’t her thing. Even her feet betrayed her. Every time they struck the treadmill, they seemed to alternate the two syllables of his name—Ca-leb, Ca-leb—over and over again.

She needed some time to think. Away from Caleb. She looked at him, and all ability to be rational went right out of her brain.

The night they’d spent together had been amazing. The sex had been great, but so had after. They’d spent hours kissing and touching, but mostly talking. She couldn’t remember laughing so much in a long time. But hadn’t she thought that she could never be happier than Derek made her once? Just thinking that name made her want to break something. She upped the speed on the treadmill instead.

She couldn’t trust that feeling. That feeling was traitorous. So what if he was gorgeous, warm, nice? He had an ugly flaw that would undo it all. They all did. The pretty face masked something dark and ugly.

Besides, he was leaving at the end of the weekend. This was her rebound fun. Sophie had been right. She just needed to have fun for a few days and forget about it. No matter that Caleb kept saying things that didn’t make sense about long distance relationships. Maybe he thought he had to fool her to keep the sex coming or something.

She could see herself falling for Caleb, and that was no good at all. He’d been so sweet to her on the worst day of her life. Even when she’d proceeded to make an ass of herself the night following her freedom party, he hadn’t made her feel like one. He’d been perfect in every way. She would have almost felt better if she could find a flaw.

He was funny, smart, and seemed genuinely interested in everything she had to say. He told the best stories, they could talk for hours about almost anything, and she’d never had more fun getting to know anyone in her life. Still. She couldn’t go through relationship hell again—not so soon after Derek. She was no good at relationships. Besides, who was to say there was even a possibility of a relationship?

She sighed, changing the song on her MP3 player. Then she threw a towel over the display showing her how much time she had left on the treadmill as time absolutely crawled by. Part of the problem was that the harder she tried not to think of Caleb, the more that took up her energy and she couldn’t focus on anything else. Needless to say, she was easily distracted.

He wouldn’t stop talking about it, though. How he didn’t want this to be just a one-time thing. He wanted more than a week with her. Like she was buying that. It wouldn’t be a good idea for her to buy it even if she thought there might be some truth behind his words. She wished she could get angry at him, and maybe that would be the end of the crazy thoughts running through her head about being with him—having more in him than a new friend. The problem was, she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she wanted to see him again. About how nice it would be to come visit him in Georgia sometime the way he’d asked her to.

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