TWELVE
I’ve had a tiring Friday in the office, but I’m determined to pour more into my relationship, especially after seeing Kross again the night before.
Following a soak in the tub, I moisturize with vanilla body butter, slip into sexy lace underwear, a copper midi dress, and black heels, style my curls half-up and half-down, and apply makeup.
As eight o’clock rolls in, knocking resounds, and I hurry to open the door.
“Hey, baby.” Jamir smiles as he hands me red roses and a small box. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I smile back at him. “What’s this?”
“Have a look,” he urges sweetly.
I place the roses on the island and lift the top, seeing a diamond bracelet inside. “Wow. This is nice.”
“I’m sorry again about the country club and what I said at lunch yesterday.”
“You didn’t need to buy me anything.”
“I wanted to,” he insists, gently pecking my lips to avoid smearing my lipstick. “Let me put it on.”
I twist my wrist after he locks the bracelet. “It’s pretty. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He kisses my hand. “Let’s go.”
“Hang on.” I place the roses in some water, grab my jacket and clutch, and head out with him.
Arriving at an upscale restaurant, Jamir hands the keys to the valet, opens the passenger door for me, and leads me inside.
“Good evening,” the chirpy ivory-toned hostess greets. “Do you have a reservation?”
“Bartley,” he says. “My parents are already here.”
Jolted by the reveal, I snap my eyes to him. “We’re having dinner with your parents?”
“Yeah,” he replies with a nonchalant shrug.
Since the hostess is watching, I maintain my smile. “You could have mentioned it. Thought this was our date night.”
“My mom said they were coming here, so I figured we could join them. It’s not a big deal.”
“Sure.” Maybe not for you .
Internally seething, I trail him through the lavish restaurant to his parents’ table.
“Hi, you two.” Mr. Bartley gives me an affectionate hug and a peck on my cheek. His wife, however, embraces her son and sits after a dry wave to me. Her behavior isn’t new. I suspect it’s because she considers her family elite black excellence, and mine are average.
Sitting down, I catch her scrutinizing my natural curls while touching her straight, dyed bob.
“Davia, you’re lovely as ever.” Her husband’s compliment diminishes it. He’s always been pleasant.
“Thank you, Mr. Bartley. So good to see you both.”
“You as well.” He nods at his son. “Jamir truly got lucky with you.”
Mrs. Bartley huffs as Jamir and I chuckle.
“Thanks, Dad.” He turns to me and squeezes my hand. “You’re right. I am lucky.”
“Hm.” I smile at him.
“Davia’s the lucky one,” Mrs. Bartley slides in smugly. “After all, she’ll be set for life if you marry or if she ends up pregnant.”
“Geez, Mom,” Jamir sighs.
“Just saying.” Her lofty snicker annoys me.
Mr. Bartley clears his throat and steers back to me. “They have vegan-friendly wine and pasta dishes, Davia. I remember you like lentils with rigatoni.”
“Thank you for thinking of me.” In my peripheral, I notice his wife shifting as if she caught my shade.
His aged eyes beam at me before signaling to the server. Once we order, we catch up over wine until the meals arrive.
Mr. Bartley makes a toast and falls back into conversation. “One of these days, we’ll cook a vegan dinner.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to eat anything without meat,” Mrs. Bartley states, slicing her steak.
“I’m the same,” Jamir seconds. “I don’t know how you do it, D.”
“It’s not that hard when it involves my health,” I point out, reminding him that I get sick otherwise.
“True,” he says, rubbing my back tenderly.
“I hear you’re heading to Paris on Monday,” Mr. Bartley attempts to change the subject.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to the trip.”
“France isn’t as appealing anymore.” The woman is so snobbish. “Been there many times. Italy. Greece. Goodness.” She laughs. “I feel we’ve seen it all, Mike.”
“Paris will always be appealing,” he rasps.
She sniffs. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, that’s why I told Davia to reconsider going this year,” Jamir adds. “I feel like it’s the same thing.”
Annoyed, I wipe my mouth and shift to him. “ La Monte’s growing. It’s never the same.”
“I’m sure said growth is no match to all that’s happening for Jamir,” Mrs. Bartley throws in because that’s her style. “What’s a small fashion brand compared to a renowned investment firm?”
“It’s two completely different industries,” I retort, matching her nice-nasty. “Both deserve equal respect.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Bartley backs me up. “How is—”
“Still,” Mrs. Bartley interrupts him, not dropping it. “Jamir has progressed greatly.” Her russet eyes glisten while regarding her son. “Your father and I are so proud. You’ll accomplish way more than we ever had.”
“I appreciate it, Mom.” Jamir squeezes her hand.
“Yes,” Mr. Bartley rasps. “Davia is doing great things as well.” It’s kind of him to acknowledge my work. It’d be nice if his son did the same.
Needing a breather, I straighten and tell them, “I’m going to the restroom.”
I could have had a more enjoyable evening at home. Maybe visit the club and see Kross one more time before… No . Stop thinking about that man.
Then again, it’s easy to drift to when Jamir and his mom are pissing me off. It’s also easy for my mind to wander when temptation is sitting at the bar.
Halting in the spot, I squeeze my eyes and wait a second to ensure I’m not imagining things. As I look again, the warmth in my belly soars. Kross truly is here.
But who’s the woman with him? From this angle, she’s gorgeous, with glowing dark skin and long braids. Sophisticated in her Fuschia, puff-sleeve, trumpet midi dress, and beige platform heels.
The spurt of jealousy shocks me even more as he laughs with her, and they hit their whiskey glasses as if celebrating something.
I’m about to walk back, but Kross flicks in my direction and does a doubletake. Eyes sparkling, he immediately excuses himself and starts toward me.
I should avoid him, considering Jamir and his parents are at a table around the corner, their view of me shielded by the tall plants. But my restraints seem broken by Kross’s mesmerizing eyes and pussy-taunting smile.
“Davi.” The smooth way he says my name causes a sticky reaction between my thighs.
I compose myself enough to say, “Hi.”
It’s a struggle not to shudder as he slowly trails his eyes over me. “Look at your fine self. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. You look nice, too.” He always does.
“Eh.” He peers down at his gray pants, black shirt, and gray jacket. “Something I threw together real quick.”
“Um, how come you’re here? Shouldn’t you be at the club?” So I can avoid you better .
“I’m not there every night. Plus, I’m celebrating.”
I glance past him to the beautiful woman, unable to stop myself from asking, “With your girlfriend?”
He smirks. “I told you, Davi. I’m single. Does it bother you I’m here with her?”
“What?” I snort, acting unaffected. “Of course not.”
He pauses for a beat, drinking in my appearance. “You on a date with ol’ boy?”
“Yes, and his parents,” I reply, failing to hide my displeasure.
His expression turns serious. “You want me to get you out of here?”
“Stop playing,” I sputter nervously.
“I’m not.” My heart speeds up as he inches closer, immersing me in his hypnotic scent. “Say the word. It’s already in your eyes. I’ll take you away.”
I blink from his piercing chocolate gaze to obscure what he perceives in mine. “I’m fine, Kross. You’re assuming things.”
“Sure?” He edges close enough to brush my arm. “Cause once again, you look and sound sad.”
“I have to get back. Your friend’s also waiting.”
Kross grasps my hand before I walk away, inciting an exhilarating rush like on the rooftop. It renders me still. My eyes feel heavy, wanting to close. But as he touches the diamond bracelet from Jamir, I break out of the spell. “Let go.”
“Sorry, not sorry.” He takes his slow-ass time letting me go. I could have easily pulled away, but something had control.
Glancing at him again, I catch my breath and strut back, seeing all three in a fit of laughter.
Jamir fills me in about the moment when he was a kid. I pretend to find it funny while my mind is still stuck on the encounter with Kross.
Relief washes over me as we wrap up. Walking out of the restaurant, we exchange goodbyes, and Jamir drives back to my apartment.
“You okay?” he asks when I remove my jacket and hang it by the door. “You became quiet.”
“Well, it’s…” Running into Kross . “Your mom.”
He frowns. “That’s how she is. Don’t take offense.”
“I’ve heard the same thing so many times,” I drone, frustrated. “You could stick up for me. And you should have told me we were meeting them. I thought we were having a night out alone. I wanted it to be just us.”
His shoulders wilt with his heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Huffing, I kick off my heels and let down my curls. I came undone the moment I saw Kross again. The effect he has on me defies reason.
“Hey.” Jamir pulls me in and cradles my face. “I’ll miss you while you’re away.”
“Me too.”
He leans in for a sensual kiss while cupping my ass. I force my body into it, allowing him to take me to my bedroom and remove my dress.
Lust floods his features more as he stares at my black lace lingerie. “Damn, baby. This for me?”
“Yes,” I whisper while undoing the thigh straps.
Jamir quickens out of his clothes and crashes his mouth on mine, kissing me hungrily as we lower on the bed. He rifles for a condom in the nightstand, slips it on, and inches his dick into my wetness. I close my eyes, yielding to the pleasure.
“Mmm,” he groans at my lips. “Feels so good, baby.”
You’re wondering what it’d feel like to kiss me .
I open my eyes to ensure that man isn’t in my room. His deep voice sounded so near.
Why would I not watch you?
Stop it. Stop it right now.
Kross must have done voodoo on me. Why am I thinking about him while Jamir’s making love to me?
Say the word. It’s already in your eyes .
“Fuck!”
Jamir stills at my scream and looks at me. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No, no. I’m sorry.” I draw a deep breath. “Could we take a minute?”
“Uh, okay,” he rasps, easing out of me to lie at my side. “Thought you wanted to have sex.”
“I do. It’s just… Had a long day.”
“Huh.”
“Let’s spend tomorrow inside,” I suggest.
“I’m meeting my parents for a fundraiser brunch.”
I scowl. “How come you didn’t tell me before? It’s fine. I’ll find a dress and—”
“Actually, baby,” he exhales. “Don’t be mad. I’m not bringing you.”
“Or rather, your mama said not to,” I snap.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Davia, it’s not that she doesn’t like you.”
“She thinks I’m not good enough for you. It’s whatever. I don’t want to deal with her anyway. Let’s spend Sunday together after I do my hair.”
“About that,” he rasps. “I’m playing golf with my boss on Sunday. I’m on his team and can’t get out of it.”
“What the fuck, Jamir! Do you even want to spend time with me? Am I a fucking priority?”
“You know what?” He scurries out of bed.
My eyes enlarge as he plucks his clothes from the carpet, dressing quickly. “What are you doing?”
“Heading home,” he grunts. “You’re clearly in a mood, and it’s affecting mine. Cursing at me and shit.”
“Are you serious?” I yelp in dismay.
“I’ll see you when you get back from Paris. Hopefully, you’ll have a better attitude.” He gives me a scathing look and walks out of my bedroom. I hear the door of the apartment close with a thud.
“Ugh!” I jump out of bed, toss the diamond bracelet on the nightstand, and head into the bathroom, roughly washing the makeup off my face. Here I am, trying to strengthen our relationship, but Jamir keeps shoving me aside.
Sucking my teeth, I apply my nightly skincare, put on my bonnet, return to bed, and turn off the lamp.
Thoughts of Kross sneak in with the quiet, bringing his sexy voice, chocolate eyes, and arousing sandalwood musk. Everything about him relaxes my body, dissolving the agitation.
I replay our encounter tonight and imagine him whisking me away like he offered. I become aroused from all the naughty possibilities floating in my head until shame breaks me out of it.