Page 2 of Touch of Smoke
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 bringingthat 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.
ro
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 smellher, 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.”
