Page 51 of Mahogany 2
When it came to Couture Interiors I slacked. Skipped over emails, failed to review design schemes, all of the things I should have done before a meeting. I was a horrible client. But I was only horrible on purpose. I wanted to spend more time with her. Wanted to ask her out for a drink but I was sure the night would end with her on her back and then what would happen? Shit would get complicated.
So, what in the hell was I doing? I didn’t know. What I did know was that I couldn’t help it. I tried to compartmentalize. Tried not to feel for her the way that I did. But… it was to no avail. Any time we were together, I felt something. Something more than attraction. It was longing. Desire. A need for more. An urge for something other than business. And it had nothing to do with how attractive she was. It was just her. Her mannerisms. The way her lips curled when she smiled. The way she pursed them and furrowed her brows when she was thinking.
Aside from those things it was her hands. They were soft and tingly. Warm and cozy. Nothing like anything I’d ever felt before. When mine met hers, I let the handshake linger. She did too. We held onto each other’s hands as if we didn’t want to let go. She was always the first to pull away. Any time she did, it was to put that hand to the back of her neck. I wondered if she felt chills there, too.
I sucked my teeth and shrugged. “Shit, we can go over it now.”
“Crescent,” She sighed and flicked her wrist to look at the time. “We’re already an hour over and?—”
“What’s another hour?” I asked, wearing a little smile. I liked fucking with her. Getting her riled up and shit. I did it often. And every time, we stayed over so I didn’t know why she was tripping as if she didn’t want to spend extra time with me, too.
She locked eyes with me briefly before pushing up from her chair, grabbing her phone in the process. “Another hour,” she said with a laugh. “Listen?—”
I sucked my teeth. “You ain’t got another hour for me? It’s late—you don’t have any more clients.”
She brushed her hand over her hair. “No, I don’t but I do have a family I need to get home to.”
“A family… a husband too. Shit, I’m sure dawg can hold it down for another hour or two. He’s been calling you like crazy, can’t be too busy.”
She rubbed her lips together with a sigh. “Or two?”
“You know how it gets between us. I need a lot of education and?—”
“Education I left in the email. I know for a fact you’re not that forgetful, Crescent. Every time you come down here, you’re unprepared. A man of your stature don’t do business this way.”
“My bad, Mo,” I said with my eyes locked on hers. Hers didn’t stay on mine for long before she looked away. “I’ll do better next time. Gone and tell buddy you gone be a little late.”
“Buddy?” She repeated with furrowed brows and twisted lips.
“Yourhusband,” I said with my hands up and a light laugh. “Nah, on some real shit if you don’t have the time we can come back to it tomorrow.”
“We don’t meet tomorrow. You do know I have other clients, right?”
“They all as important as me?” I challenged with a smirk, fucking with her.
She looked away and ran her hand down the back of her neck. Nope. They weren’t. Not as important as me, but important still. So, because she had professional values, she wouldn’t push her meeting tomorrow. She’d just give me what I wanted and not because I was some star client, but because she liked me just as much as I liked her. Maybe more. She was bashful as fuck. Did that make me manipulative for taking advantage of what I could see and feel so clearly? Maybe. Did I give a fuck? Hell naw. She could go home to the life she really didn’t want, eventually. All I wanted was a few hours of her time. Just to be around. Just to feel her. Smell her. Be in her essence. It was fucking intoxicating. Drawing. So much so that I’d inched in a little closer with every passing second we’d been sitting together. Would’ve gotten closer if I wouldn’t be on top of her if I did.
I didn’t know what it was about the woman, but she had me moving in ways I didn’t move. I wouldn’t say I was competing with her husband because… I couldn’t. She was his. And nothing but a client of mine. Still, I found myself wanting to compete. Wanting to win her. Wanting to give her something other than what we’d been exchanging. To be real… it wasn’t about him. It was about her. He called a couple of hours ago. Multiple times. Any time her phone vibrated, I watched as her chest raised and fell. Watched as she grew uneasy. Watched as she grew annoyed with every call. It took me telling her she could take the call for her to get up and answer it. The walk to the bathroom was hurried. The phone conversation, low and dry. Because the office was fairly quiet I could hear how much she wasn’t happy to hear from him.
Did that make me a creep? Nah. I didn’t think so. It made me observant. Made me want her more. I was competitive after all, and Mahogany was a challenge. Not just because she was married but because she was so got damn shy. With me. Iwanted to know why. Wanted to loosen her up. Wanted her to look at me the same way she looked at other people. Wanted undivided attention. Wanted to feel the confidence I knew she had. She was the challenge.
“Give me a minute,” she said, pushing up from the couch.
I watched as she walked off. The sway in her hips was subtle. Enough to make the ass cheeks she hid under her skirt, jiggle. I wanted to see more of her. I was skating on thin ice like a muthafucka. Could barely compose myself.
Standing, I adjusted my dick and walked over to the window.
What was I going to do?
I looked down at it, shook my head and stuffed my hands into my pockets. I wasn’t just hungry for her body—I was hungry for all of her. Mahogany was thought provoking. She was… shit, she was stimulating. Talking with her, being with her, just made me hungry for more time. I hated when meetings ended, loved when they started.
My mouth salivated at the thought of her. Of the way she made me feel. I was hungry as fuck for her. Never had been as hungry for a woman as I was for her. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place for sure.
“Okay. Now where were we?”
I looked over my shoulder at her and looked away. Fuck. A piece of her curly hair had fallen into her face. I loved when that happened. She was such a beautiful woman.
Pivoting, I turned to rejoin her at the couch. She sat down and the split in her skirt raised just above midthigh. A tattoo played peekaboo.
