11. Red Hot #2
Zora moaned as the wet sounds of my precum filled the air. I lowered my fingers to her crotch, where wetness pooled in her panties. I pushed them aside and massaged her clit gently, planting sweet kisses on her earlobe.
“I want to taste you so badly,” she finally said. “One time. No one has to know.”
Her words left her mouth more like a question than a statement.
I gave her folds another little taste of my smooth, wet tip. It felt perfect against her gushiness.
“You’re right, baby. It’s just you and me.”
I waited for her signal to move ahead.
Instead, she sighed and held my wrist to still my movements. I removed my hand and lowered it as she pulled her bra back down over her breasts. When we separated, she turned over the bed and faced me, her hands providing a barrier between us.
“Yes, I want you, but I’d be shady if I do this without officially cutting ties with Geoff. I’m sorry.” She reached down and pulled my boxers up.
The window offered enough light for me to see her downturned eyes and drawn lips.
“To respect your wishes, I’m going to have to put a barrier between us or leave. You’re too damn tempting. Geoff definitely wouldn’t like this.”
“Then go.”
Wow.
I won against one of the biggest rivals in the league tonight, but I felt like I’d lost a bigger prize. My feelings were hurt, but I refused to wallow in pity in front of Zora. Instead, I kissed her on the forehead and exited the bed.
“I’ll see you at breakfast. As always, call or text me if you need anything before then. Good night, Zora.”
“Good night.”
Within seconds, I walked across the room and was gone.
What happened? Why did Zora push me away so hard? Were my expectations unreasonable? Did I misread her signals? Did I forget how to move with women? Recently, I’d been either hot or cold. That made me feel out of control.
But she’s your future wife. Cece’s gentle voice entered my head as I splashed cold water on my face in my master bathroom. More than at any other time in recent years, I heard this recurring message from her. Since I trusted that voice, I tried to push aside my distress.
“Why though? Are you sure? If she is the one, the timing isn’t right. And timing’s everything,” I said the words out loud, angry that a potential promise of newfound happiness was so close yet out of reach.
Zora and I couldn’t get on the same page about what was happening between us.
She was everything I never thought I wanted in a woman—overly independent, headstrong, and a control freak.
She didn’t know how to accept help from a man.
She was too set in her ways to change. I didn’t want to fight her for space in her bed and her heart.
I also didn’t need a woman messing with my head. Admittedly, I was too fragile.
I needed time and space to rein in my emotions.
To do that, I would distance myself from her in the morning, keeping everything professional and focused on my university donation.
She made it clear tonight that she wasn’t ready to engage with me like I wanted to with her.
I had to accept that and respect her boundaries.
My heart had been hurt so deeply when it came to love that I needed to be cautious too.
From now on, Zora and her staff could communicate with a member of my team instead of me if she needed anything for the foundation. All I had to do was make it through tomorrow, being cordial and professional. Then my life would be back to normal—business as usual and lonely.
When I descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, I noticed Zora’s bags packed and sitting to the right of the front door. That was enough to tell me I would meet some mess when I engaged with her stubborn self.
The minute I walked into the kitchen, Zora’s pensive stare met me.
Instead of being my hot-in-the-puss vixen, she was now reserved and formal again—The Dr. Zora Langston, esteemed president of Liberation University.
She wore a simple black pantsuit and conservative heels as if she was going to a business meeting.
Her appearance and demeanor confirmed that I needed to be cautious around her. If she wanted to talk to me about how to move forward from last night, I would, but if she gave me nothing, I would stand by my original choice to put a wall between us too.
“Good morning, Cairo.” She sat at the high-top counter with a porcelain cup of hot coffee in hand.
Although her face was pleasant, her voice wasn’t cool, cutting me to my core.
Chef Yo slid a small, egg-white omelet onto a China plate and placed it before her.
“Thanks, Chef.” She cracked a gentle smile at him that didn’t reflect her harsh exterior.
I pointed toward the omelet.
“That looks good. I’ll take a big one of those too. With turkey bacon and fruit.”
“Sure thing.”
I sat as he finished making my breakfast. I filled my refillable bottle with room temperature water from my water cooler, blessed my food, and dove in. Until Chef Yo left the room, Zora and I exchanged tense glances.
She sat as pretty as a model, perfect and professional with her thick hair back in that old lady updo. She also wore her glasses again. The necklace I gave her was nowhere to be found. It was as if none of the intimate moments of the weekend remained.
“After breakfast, I’m heading home. Thanks for everything.” Her crisp tone was dismissive.
I dropped my fork on my plate, the clink echoing across the room. I couldn’t pretend that we were being odd anymore.
“It’s like that, Zora?”
She placed her fork on the edge of her plate and wiped the side of her mouth daintily with her cloth napkin.
“Like what, Cairo?”
“Don’t insult me with this act.”
“Playtime is over for me.”
“Playtime? Were you playing when you were five seconds from cumming on me in bed? This isn’t the real you. Why are you pushing me away when I have been nothing but kind to you?”
“I had a good time. If you think we’ll have a problem being cordial with each other moving forward, let me know.”
Zora’s formality and dismissiveness had me fuming.
“Don’t worry about that. We can sort through other business through our representatives. I’ll have Wayne take you home as soon as you finish breakfast. Is there anything else you need from me, Dr. Langston?”
“No, I’m good, Mr. Kinney. Thank you.”
With that, I saw Zora shut all the way down. I wasn’t going to push her to open up to me again. Instead, I remained silent and finished my breakfast. I texted Wayne, who, twenty minutes later, loaded Zora’s bags as we said our goodbyes by the SUV.
“Thanks for your hospitality.” She extended her hand in that same stiff way, but I didn’t shake it.
I wasn’t in the mood to put on airs simply because Wayne was close. I believed in actions and words matching. With my hands by my side, I keep a neutral face.
“You’re welcome, President Langston.”
Zora dropped her arms to her sides and broke her perfect character by rolling her eyes at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Wayne’s frown as he stood at the back of the vehicle.
Enough was enough. Someone had to be the bigger person in this war of egos. I opened Zora’s door. When she entered and sat down, I helped her fasten her seat belt and leaned toward her. With my lips inches from her mouth, I spoke softly so only she could hear me.
“When you are ready to move on and address whatever this is, call me. I’m still your friend, Zora.”
As I expected, she said nothing, but her eyes softened, resting on my lips. I kissed her cheek and exited the car, closing the door. I stood back and waved at the tinted window between us.
Wayne walked by me and gave me a concerned look on his way to the driver’s seat.
“You good, sir?”
I nodded, thrusting my hands into the deep pockets of my sweatpants.
“Peachy.”
Wayne entered the car, started it, and pulled away. I watched the Bentley disappear down the driveway and closed my eyes, praying for peace when I felt nothing but discomfort.