Page 2 of What She Deserves
Rashad remained in place, struck by her unmatched beauty and the way she was always so well put together. Layla didn’t do running in the rain. She wouldn’t want her hair wet or her makeup to run.
Maroon lipstick covered perfectly formed lips that looked moist and were deliciously soft. Fake lashes brought attention to her soul-deep brown eyes and gave them a seductive, take-me-to-bed look even when she simply looked surprised, like right now. At the sight of him, color temporarily marred her tawny-gold complexion and reminded him of their passionate nights together—his relentless need to claim her body, his burning desire to hear her hoarsely cry out his name and rake his back with white-tipped nails as she spasmed around him.
Rashad swallowed past the lump in his throat, fighting the urge to crush her to him and find out if her lips were as soft as he remembered.
“Hi. What a surprise.” Her eyes darted to the Black man beside her, whom he immediately recognized as Ethan Connor. Layla rested her fingers on his arm. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
Her touch appeared intimate to Rashad and cut through him like a knife. Were they together now?
“Sure, take your time,” Ethan said, returning to the conversation. He looked like money in a tailored suit, and Rashad was pretty sure that was a platinum Patek Philippe on his wrist.
He followed Layla to a corner of the room, so many questions burning inside his head, he had a hard time figuring out which to ask first. “What are you doing in Atlanta? You visiting?”
“I… ah, no…” She suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
“Are you… are you back?” He could barely get the words out, barely acknowledge the excitement that immediately spiked in his blood.
“You could say that.” Her face shifted from unease into cool stoicism.
“For how long?” He needed every single detail she could give him.
“For good.”
“How long have you been back?” he asked, shocked.
“For a long a time. Look, I don’t think—”
“For how long?” He had to know how long they’d lived in the same city without him having a clue.
She tucked her hair behind her left ear, a nervous habit that meant she was uneasy. “I never moved to D.C.”
Her answer floored him. She’d said she was moving back to D.C. after they broke up because her family was there and she needed a change.
“You lied to me?”
His question had been asked a little too loud and prompted two people to turn and look at them.
“I didn’t lie, I… I intended to move when I told you I would, but I never did.”
Rashad swallowed the tightness in his throat. “You never said a word. You let me believe…” A flare of anger forced his mouth closed.
“We were broken up, Rashad, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Then what difference would it have made if you’d found out that I was still here?” she hissed.
“It would have made a difference. I would have reached out to you. I would have…” What the hell was he saying?
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out at the rain. He was stuck in this terrible limbo state of wanting to learn more while knowing he had no business, no right to learn more.
“What are you doing here, right now?” he asked.
“Ethan invited me. He didn’t want to come alone, so I came with him.”
She angled her head higher and tossed a look of defiance at Rashad, as if daring him to comment.
“Are you seeing him? Just now, the way you touched him…”
