Page 9 of Touch of Smoke
“A lot,” he replied. “And I think a lot that can help you fulfill your purpose.”
She gave him a quizzical look.
“Come home with me,” he said.
And she immediately started to pull her hand out of his.
He held it firmer. “To talk about how I can possibly help you with your next job.”
ro
His chest expanded and he bit back a smile as Sariya walked into his house. He’d hit the switch beside the door so that the recessed ceiling lighting illuminated the foyer and into the open living room area.
“Wow, again, Ro,” she said as she walked ahead of him. She passed the stairs on her right and kept going until she stood on the portion of the light wood floor that was covered by a slate blue area rug.
The rug had just been delivered a week ago and the mist gray sectional, matching barrel chair and the large white coffee table had arrived yesterday.
“This is so much space,” she continued as she turned to her right where the open floor design continued into the kitchen and a dining area with patio doors leading out to the deck. “You could have the entire Simmons side of your family here for the holidays then they wouldn’t have to all squeeze into your mother’s house like they do for every other holiday or special occasion. Your Uncle Pete could actually sit at the table, or ina chair somewhere else in here, instead of on the steps like he always does.”
Ro had just finished removing the wool trench coat he’d worn and dropped it onto the barrel chair, when he had to laugh at her comment. “Uncle Pete does that shit on purpose. He knows he can sit someplace else in my parents’ house. Just likes to be contrary.”
“Yeah,” she said as she found a switch on another wall and turned on the pendant lights over the kitchen island. “Just like my Uncle Larry.” Whatever she was going to say next was cut off as she walked further into the space. The island was white marble, the cabinets beige and the four armless high-boy chairs at the island were a rich dark chocolate leather. “Oh. My. Goodness,” she sighed. “This is amazing. Ms. Christine’s gonna love cooking in here.”
He wondered why she was relating everything about his house to his parents’ house but didn’t question her. Mostly because that’s not the conversation he wanted to have with her right now. The why’s behind his purchase of this house and the plans he had for it moving forward—which may or may not include hosting the next Simmons family Christmas dinner—was something they could discuss later. Something, he planned for them to discuss later.
“You want something to drink?” he asked and moved to the refrigerator. “I’m still getting settled in, so I haven’t really had a chance to do a big grocery shopping run yet. The living room is the most furnished space in the house right now. But I do have some bottled waters, cranberry juice and lemonade.”
“I’ll take lemonade,” she said, just as he figured she would.
Sariya had never been much of a soda drinker. A quick bout of acne when she was thirteen and she’d put a pause on the daily sprite she’d stop at the corner store after school to buy along with her three musketeers bar. The moment her cheekshad cleared up, she’d decided there would be no more sodas for her. But when Donyell had mentioned that chocolate could’ve also been the culprit for her breakout, Sariya had immediately declared her favorite candy bar as sacred and thus safe from any exclusion in her lifetime.
He fixed her a glass and grabbed a water bottle for himself. “Let’s go sit down and finish our conversation.”
He’d sort of wished she’d been in his truck with him as they rode out to his house, they could’ve gotten most of their conversation done then, but she’d driven to the party and was adamant about driving herself to his place. Because he knew Sariya could and usually did attempt to argue about any and everything, he let her have this one, deciding to pick and choose his battles.
“You need some coasters,” she said when they were back in the living room area. Then she reached into a black leather bag that was big enough to fit his entire desktop computer and perhaps the rest of the contents of his desk inside of and pulled out a pack of tissues. She took a few out and set them on the coffee table, then motioned for him to put their drinks down.
He watched her remove her jacket before taking it from her to toss onto the chair beside his. But when she was about to sit on the sectional, he reached out and took her hand. “Wait, you owe me something,” he said when she stared at him in question.
“Owe you what?” she asked with a frown.
Damn he loved how good she looked in those pants that hugged her perfectly round ass and her thick thighs. And that little ass hoodie that he should’ve told her she was gonna freeze in, was cute and sexy at the same time. Her ankle boots were black with a wedge heel that made her a little taller and just all around finer. Then again, he was biased, there wasn’t a time that he hadn’t looked at Sariya and not thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“A welcome home hug. A kiss. A ‘damn, Ro, it’s good to see you’. Something,” he said with his brows arched.
She laughed. “You’re bossy, you talk too much,andyou’re spoiled,” she replied, but didn’t argue when he pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
When her arms circled his waist, he sighed, loving the feel of her allowing herself to melt against him. To lay her head against his chest and just hold on. Damn, he’d missed this feeling most. Not that he hadn’t dreamed of the one night he’d been able to lose himself completely inside of her, because he had. A lot. But this right here, just holding her and having her hold him, was some bomb ass shit that could not be duplicated.
So, when they finally pulled back from the hug, he had absolutely no qualms about leaning in to touch his lips to hers.
sariya
. . .
Dammit,he was kissing her again.
He hadn’t kissed her like this in seven years and Sariya swore it felt like just yesterday when she’d melted in this man’s arms and spread her legs for him. Surely, she wasn’t about to do that again, was she?
