Touch of Smoke: Four20 Bae

Prelude

. . .

Donyell’s Wedding

Congratu-fuckin-lations.

Sariya mumbled some other forms of the word as she stood by the bar dancing by herself and nursing her second strawberry daiquiri. It was three hours into the reception, four and a half hours since she’d walked down the aisle at Greater New Hope Ministries and forty-eight hours since the final leg of celebrating these nuptials had begun.

She was so fuckin’ over it.

She took another sip and closed her eyes as she swayed to the beat of Blackstreet’s Before I Let You Go. Donyell was an old soul, a fact she would definitely blame on her parents, so it was no wonder the playlist she’d provided for her wedding reception would include a mixture of old and new music—mainly old though. Ralph Simmons was a DJ during his late teens and through his twenties, so an entire wall in the back of the basement at the Simmons house was dedicated to crates full of albums. And there was no discrimination to the type of music, there was RB, Pop, Jazz, Reggae, some early HipHop and even a small gospel section Ralph had dedicated to his wife, Christine.

But Donyell Simmons was now Donyell Simmons-Raymond. She’d married her college sweetheart, Mike. And Sariya had stood by her side and watched her do it.

She watched her best friend get married.

Her best friend was now somebody’s wife.

And Sariya was what now? The best friend of somebody’s wife?

Um, how ‘bout she was on her way to being a little twisted.

The bartender was more than generous with the rum in that first daiquiri. She was no lightweight when it came to drinking, but that’s why she’d been taking it slow on this second one. Still, she was feeling mellow as hell and wanted this night to be over expeditiously so she could head up to the room she and Donyell had shared last night and fall into a blissful sleep. Liquor always made her sleepy which is why she never drank when she was out alone.

Tonight, she would be alone since her previous roommate was now permanently booed-up with Mike who always looked at Donyell like she was God’s perfect creation made especially for him.

Did she sound salty?

Yeah, probably, which was a good thing these were only her thoughts and she didn’t have anyone else she could confide in.

Truth was, she wasn’t jealous of Donyell. She loved that her friend had found the man of her dreams and was living out the plans she had for her life. Since they were twelve years old walking up the hill to their middle school, Donyell had been talking about this day. Her plan was to graduate high school (of course), go to college (because she wanted to make more money than her mother had working as a customer service rep at the Social Security Administration), get married and have children. They were one month out from their college graduation and Donyell had the high school diploma, BA in psychology, and a wedding band on her left ring finger.

Sariya had herself another sip of that daiquiri.

She also had a nursing degree, an apartment in Canton and a huge student loan bill coming due at the end of this month.

“Why you over here by yourself?”

She almost jumped out of that tight ass purple maid of honor dress she was wearing. It was a really pretty mermaid style, off the shoulder deep purple dress, but walking and sitting had been a chore.

With her fingers clenching that glass a little tighter so she wouldn’t totally embarrass herself by being startled enough to drop it, she frowned at Ro. He was always a pain in the ass, tonight was no exception.

“I’m minding my business,” she snapped. “You wanna try it?”

He grinned, that slow, annoying, and equally as sexy, grin that she hated. “Do I wanna try minding your business? Why, yes, I don’t mind if I do.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not funny,” she said. “And you’re not cute either, despite what all those blind and simple women over there are saying.”

With a feigned look of innocence, he pointed to himself, then looked around and back to Sariya. “Somebody said I was cute? Which women?”

Again, she really didn’t like him.

But the real problem was she did like him. Too damn much.

She rolled her eyes again and started to walk past him, but he caught her arm stopping her retreat.

“C’mon, you know I was only joking,” he said and backed up a step so that he was once again in front of her. “Just came over here to check on you because you looked so…so…alone.”

Great, that’s just what she needed tonight, a Ronan Jamal Simmons’ pity party. They were the worst; she knew because she’d been on the receiving end of them a time or two since they’d known each other and she’d hated it each and every time. Ro was Donyell’s older brother. He was older than both her and Donyell by seven years, which when they were young had felt like a lifetime. And yet, sixteen-year-old Sariya had experienced her first sexual dream with him as the star. It had been the most embarrassing morning-after she’d had to date. The only saving grace was that she’d experienced that morning-after alone.

“That’s by choice,” she told him because that wasn’t a lie. She had come over here to the bar to get away from all of Donyell’s family and some of their shared friends who wanted to know when she was going to get married. She’d grown tired of answering that question about thirty minutes after they’d processed into the ballroom of the waterfront hotel.

“Really?” His brow lifted. “I would’ve thought that those few frat boys over there that went to school with y’all would’ve been happy to keep your company.”

She followed his gaze across the room and her frown deepened. He was referring to Perry, Jiles and Karim. They were, in fact, frat boys—because calling them men was a stretch and she certainly wasn’t calling them brothers of any sort. But they were all jerks, the only reason they’d been invited was because they were Mike’s friends.

“I’m too old for them,” she replied and took another sip from her glass.

Ro laughed again. “Mike said all of y’all graduated together.”

“That’s logistics. They act like fifteen-year-olds.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did try to ease her arm out of Ro’s grasp.

He didn’t immediately let it go, taking that moment to glance down at where his hand touched her and then slowly bringing that intense stare back up to her. Why did he always look at her like he could see through her? Like there wasn’t anything she could hide from him. Even though there was definitely so much she had to hide from him.

“So, you don’t like guys your age?” he asked and instead of removing his hand totally from her arm, he loosened his grip until only his fingers brushed over her bare skin.

Tingles immediately soared up her arm, her neck and landed in a flush at her cheeks. Quianna, Donyell’s cousin, had done their make-up this morning and it was a little heavier than Sariya preferred, but right about now, Sariya was glad for that fact as she prayed the blush that had already been applied would cover the arousal trying to show out.

“I don’t like guys who are immature,” she replied. She wanted to yank her arm away so badly, but that would only prove he was getting to her. And if there was one thing Sariya had learned about Ro a long time ago, it was to never let him see you sweat. That was like an unspoken challenge to him and whatever his goal had started out as, was immediately amplified. And Ro never stopped until he got what he wanted. Her heart thumped at the thought.

“Got it. You want a mature man.” His fingers continued to dance along her arm. “What else do you want, Sariya?”

Her name was like a prolonged whisper in his deep voice and those tingles just kept on traveling, this time down her body until they rested right between her legs.

“I want…” She swallowed. “I want…to finish my drink in peace, Ro.”

His face had gone serious at the last question he asked, but now the corner of his mouth lifted into a half grin. Even that shit was sexy. “You wanna know what I want, Sariya?”

Please, oh please, Lord, make him stop saying her name.

“What do you want, Ro?” she asked because running out of this ballroom really wasn’t an option.

He kept those fingers on her arm and leaned in closer, until his lips brushed the pearl stud earring, she and the rest of the bridal party had worn.

“You,” he said and her knees went weak.

He knew more about Sariya McKinney then she probably knew about herself. Had been watching her since she turned seventeen and it became blisteringly clear that she wasn’t the sister everybody in his household insisted he treat her as. She couldn’t be, because there was no way a sister should make him feel the way she did back then, or now when she was twenty-three.

Yes, that made him thirty. And, if it were up to his parents he’d be married with a few kids at this point. But he wasn’t and that was mainly because of the woman who smelled like vanilla and fruit and looked like walking sin in the dress she was wearing. He was old enough to have mastered restraint, to know when something is off limits to steer clear of it, but this was Sariya.

She’d always been his, even if just in his mind.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked when he felt like he might stop breathing if she didn’t respond.

Whether it be ‘get the hell out of my face’ or ‘take me up to your room’ he needed to hear her say something. He could smell her, could see the pulse beating frantically in her neck, but he needed to hear her. Please, he just needed her to say something.

“Yes,” she whispered and his dick jumped.

“Yes, what?”

She sucked in a breath, then took a step back from him. “Yes, I heard you.”

“And?” Because there had to be more. He’d felt it the moment she stepped into his parents’ house yesterday, the connection. It wasn’t his imagination, he was certain. Or damn, he just wanted her that badly.

That thought had him taking a step back. What he never planned to do, ever, was push Sariya to do anything she didn’t want. Ro didn’t play that with any woman, not just this one. But this one was special. She always had been.

“And, have you had too much to drink?” she asked.

“You’re the one posted up at the bar with the evidence in hand,” he replied with a nod to the glass she still held.

Without another word she moved the couple of steps until she was close enough to set the glass down on the bar top. Then she returned to where she’d previously stood and met his gaze. “It was my second after the champagne from the toast. And you?”

“Champagne from the toast and Hennessey White,” he replied. “Sober as a church mouse.”

Her lips twisted in this way that was cute and annoying. Sariya had what could be called medium-thick lips, they looked kissable as fuck and had been a willing participant in far too many of his dreams throughout the years. When he saw her yesterday, for the first time in four years, he couldn’t believe that he’d still been so fixated on her, so literally obsessed with the woman who’d morphed from the girl he used to hear giggling in his sister’s room at all hours of the night.

But Ro had long ago released himself of the notion of Sariya being of any relation to him. She wasn’t and she had been six months shy of consenting age the first time he allowed himself to imagine having her. Now, she was fair game.

“Next question?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Are you serious?”

“About you asking another question or about wanting you?”

Now she gave his shoulder a shove as she sighed with exasperation and attempted to leave. “You play too much.”

This was the second time she’d tried to walk away from him. Normally, if a woman wasn’t fond of his company, he let her go. Begging wasn’t his thing. There were way too many women out there for him to insist on keeping company with one. Unless that one was Sariya.

He snaked an arm around her waist before she could get too far and this time, turned her so that her backside was flush against his front. He was five feet eleven inches tall and she was five five—had been since she turned sixteen according to the wall she and Donyell had marked in Donyell’s room. The heels she wore were high so her ass lined up perfectly with his dick and his body immediately reacted. With access to the opposite ear this time thanks to the updo her hair was in to match the rest of the bridal party, he took full advantage. Leaning in, this time he stroked his tongue over her lobe. “Does this feel like I’m playing?”

Her breaths quickened, he could see the rise and fall of her full breasts, caught the sound in the gasp she made. “It feels like you’re crazy,” she said and tried to pull away. “Stop it, they can see us.”

At the word ‘stop’ he let his arm slip away from her, but he didn’t step away. “Who? Your man? Is he here? Let me holla at him for a minute,” he said and moved to turn around and head back toward the tables.

It was Sariya who grabbed his arm this time, yanking him back to the relatively private corner of the room she’d been lurking in for the last half hour.

“Stop being a jerk, Ro. Damn.” Irritation was clear in her tone.

That and something else. Her voice was a little huskier as she spoke, her eyes wide, the usual chestnut hue, a shade darker.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Just tell me this, is your man here with you tonight?”

He already knew the answer to that, at least he knew he hadn’t seen any man with her at the church or here at the hotel. But he still liked to check. Being perfectly clear with any woman he dealt with was a priority for Ro, always. In that, Sariya was no different.

“No,” she said and folded her arms across her chest in a way that only made her ample cleavage more delectable. “Is your girlfriend here with you?”

With his legs slightly spread now, he slid his hands into the front pockets of his tuxedo pants to keep from reaching out and pulling her close again. “Nah, no girlfriend over here.”

She arched a brow. “Back in Denver?”

“Nope,” he said and shook his head. “Been flying solo for quite some time now. How ‘bout you?”

Rolling her eyes she said, “Same and for longer than I should admit.”

“Sooo, that means it’s okay for me to get close to you and to tell you that I want you, right?” He took a step toward her and because they were only about three feet apart, she easily put an arm out, her palm meeting his chest, to stop him.

“Um, no,” she said. When he only continued to stare at her, she continued, “Not here in front of everyone.”

“Because?”

She sighed and dropped her hand. “Because this is your sister’s wedding and I’m the maid of honor so I’m probably supposed to be over there with her, on hand just in case she needs or wants something before she and Mike make their getaway.”

He titled his head. “And yet you’re over here hiding in a corner.”

“I’m not hiding,” she said.

“Yeah, you are,” he replied.

“Ro,” she said in a voice that was a notch away from being whiny but was somehow still sexy as hell.

“Sariya,” he replied, then chuckled. “Okay, look, answer one more question and then I’ll let you go back to your wedding duties.”

“Okay,” she replied with another sigh.

“Do you want me?”

He was positive she couldn’t tell he was holding his breath, praying that she would give him the answer he’d been waiting for, for far too long. It wasn’t in his nature to ask twice for anything. When he decided he wanted something he went out and got it. But he’d never wanted anything or anyone the way he wanted this woman.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, then she released them as she appeared to expel a deep breath through partially parted lips. She blinked as she stared at him, then squared her shoulders. “Yes,” she said in a voice that was almost too soft for him to hear over the music. “Yes, I want you.”

The grin that spread across his face was probably the goofiest he’d ever had, but he didn’t give a damn. The excitement that ripped through him was also new and potent and he closed the distance between them. “Go, take care of Donyell, then come to my room.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he dipped his head and eased his tongue inside, swiping it along hers, once, then twice, then a third time before he forced himself to break the contact. Or he was going to put her ass up on that bar and spread her legs in front of two hundred and thirty-five wedding guests.