Don’t make this more than what it is Quanesha Rachelle Montgomery, I remind myself. This is what I felt in the business center like I know him, and I was mistaken.
“You can’t even find the words.” I hop down, done with embarrassing myself for the night.
His warm hand slips into mine, pulling me back. “Rachelle, you’re unique, hilarious, and unexpected.”
“All that?”
“And more,” he whispers. Even with the noise from the chattering guests, the live music, and my pounding heart, I hear him.
My gaze falls to his lips. Then he kisses me. Giving me what I wanted from the moment I found him lingering in the hallway.
He's kissing me, and I'm kissing him back.
This is what I miss without a relationship. There is no kissing. Not like this.
His hands cup my face. Carson's not playing, and neither am I. This isn't some messy, slob down but a man taking his time and exploring.
Carson charms every bit of my mouth. A man that is kissing me senseless. So, when his tongue parts my lips, I let him in, and the taste of brandy lingers on his thick tongue. I moan, not caring that I’m totally making out with him in the lounge.
“Mr. Wellington?”
Carson angles our heads, diving deeper, once more sliding his tongue against mine, and then he steps back.
Eyes locked.
Gasping for air.
And I want more.
Please.
He's shocked, and my legs are J-E-L-L-O.
This is what I’ve missed for three-whole days.
Bish… Can you feel this fucking chemistry? Can you imagine what it will feel like behind closed doors? Then I remember… Why it didn’t happen three days ago, and it wouldn’t have happened tonight if Daiya didn’t dare me.
“You feel this, just like I do. So, why d’you ghost me?” I ask. I felt warm in his arms, enticed by his command of my mouth, and I almost forgot.
“Bad timing. I don’t have time to entertain you.”
I roll my neck. “What does that mean?”
“Please sit down and let me explain.”
“Mr. Wellington?”
“Give us a moment,” Carson says to the beefy guy trying to get his attention.
"Nah, I'm good." I step back, trying to think of a catchy comeback. Still, I need Rachelle and not Quanesha to handle this situation. Pretending we didn't share something special—our first and last kiss. "You don't have to explain. We're just strangers that met in a business center. Right? Have a nice night, Carson."
“No, we’re more like two people out of nearly eight billion in the world, who found each in a business center in New York City. What are the odds?” His hands wrap around my waist. “And for the record, I didn’t ghost you. I’ve seen you, even when you didn’t see me. I didn’t want to intrude on your girl’s trip, and I’m hosting the conference of my career right now. And you, Rachelle Montgomery, are a distraction I can’t afford.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Because you’re staying in my hotel.”
“Well, hello Quanie and Carson Wellington. How is this little chat going?" Daiya pops up like the police, and I jump out of Carson's arms.
His gaze passes between us as if hearing something of interest, and my brain has left the building. What did Daiya say? But as always, I recover like a champ.
“Fine. And what about you and, PawPaw?” I whisper.
Then I notice the tight smile on her face. Why is her eye twitching? I glance over her shoulder, and yep, Santa’s still watching her every move. She jerks me close.
“He’s definitely on another level, and I’m beginning to think he’s too much like my Dad. Dude got me feeling like the woman at the well encountering Jesus. Come see a man who’s telling me all about myself.”
“Dad, Jesus, and a bible parable in the same sentence? This calls for a sisterly intervention. Carson, thank you for your time. I think we should call it a night." I spin a little, not knowing whether I'm coming or going. But Daiya stops me by smashing me to her side like we're joined at the hip.
“So, Carson, where are you two going on your date tomorrow?”
"He's not interested," I mumble, turning Daiya back to our table. I need this intervention to get away from him. "Come on, tell me about the woman at the well again. Night, Carson."
“I’ll plan something special,” Carson says. “How about I pick you up at seven?”
“But I didn’t say yes.” I stop and stare at him.
Listen, I’m down for a little hanky-panky, but pity peen isn’t my thing. There are too many men in this city.
“Stay here and work out the details with Carson because this woman at the well is taking a walk next door with Pierce. What in the heck is next door, only God knows? And yes, Carson, seven tomorrow is going to be perfect for her,” Daiya confirms.
I give her my best, Bring your ass on look, and this heifer laughs. She wants me to catch a case in here. I roll my eyes so hard, I'm dizzy. I look over at Carson, who's looking thoroughly entertained.
“Didn’t you say you’re occupied with a conference? I don’t want to be a distraction.” I remind him.
Petty Quanie is in the house.
Front and center.
Present and accounted for.
"You're correct that I have a conference, but I'd be remiss if I pass on the opportunity to have you all to myself."
Remiss.
Carson gives me a stare that has my panties damp. But I chose to blame it on the alcohol. Then I look over at nosy-ass Daiya. “Don’t you have a walk by the well?”
"I surely do and enjoy your dinner date tomorrow." She turns her gaze to him. "Carson, enjoy your date, and I'll see you later, Ms. Cookie Monster."
"But I didn't say yes," I mumble, watching her tail sashay away.
“Who’s Cookie Monster?” Carson asks, and I’m dead. “And Quanie?”
I lock eyes with him, and the heat of his gaze crawls under my skin.
Did I mention how much I hate her? She walked over here all innocent and holy, only to drop a damn bomb. And Carson’s eating it up. Not literally, but you know…
Urgh.
I need to get my mind out of the gutter and get away from this man.
“Wait... did she say Wellington? As in The Wellington?”
Carson nods. “Let me show you New York City.”
I shake my head.
“Then you’ll lose your dare.”
“Keep playing because your ass is on thin ice. Had me all hot and bothered and…”
“I’m sure I can make it up to you.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh… okay.”
All right, Mr. Wellington. Game on top of game. Shiiiiddd, I don’t mind that he’s running game at this point. My ass is down!
Down, down.
Down like four flat tires on a hot-tar road down.
And Quanesha jumps her ass into the conversation. Girl, we don’t need to toss our cookie. He can handle it.
I shake my head until Carson’s throaty laugh stops me.
“You think I’m crazy. But I promise you I’m not.” I state for the record.
"I actually… think you are. As a matter of fact, I'm sure you are."