Page 88 of The Dating Playbook


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He settled his hands at her waist. “You’re welcome.”

She lifted her lips to his and captured his mouth. What started out slow and gentle quickly turned manic and brutal. Heat shot through her veins as Jamar relieved her of her clothes, pulling the sweatshirt over her head and unclasping her bra with one hand.

Taylor stood in the middle of his kitchen in jeans and flipflops, and nothing else. As he trailed his tongue along the slope of her neck, his hands caressed her breasts, kneading them, pinching her nipples until they tightened to the point of pain.

He released her hair from the clip that held her braids, letting them fall down her back. Then he pushed his hands through her hair, holding her head steady, his tongue plunging in and out.

Old insecurities tried to creep in as his lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone, along the shallow valley between her breasts. Taylor shoved them out of her head.

Jamar wasn’t like any of the men she’d dated in the past. Everything he did came from a place of respect for her, from wanting to help her. Not from what he could take from her.

She heard his low groan a moment before he closed his mouth over her left nipple. He flicked at it with the tip of his tongue, the friction setting off an explosion of pleasure between her legs.

“Wait,” Taylor said. She pushed at his chest.

His breaths soughed in and out. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll be damned if we do this on a kitchen counter again. If you’re going to fuck me, you’re going to fuck me in a bed.”

She grabbed him by the wrist and started for the stairs.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Oh, wait! I love this part!”

London hopped up from her chair and raised the volume on the television. She started to sway from side to side as TLC’s “Creep” streamed from the soundbar.

They’d agreed to get together for a Saturday movie night at London’s since Samiah and Daniel had only returned from Houston this afternoon. They’d chosenWaiting to Exhale, the ultimate in Black Girl Magic cinema.

The volume had been muted for much of the movie, but it was turned up when it came to a part they all wanted to watch. They’d replayed the scene when Bernadine throws her cheating asshole of a husband’s things out of the house and sets it all on fire three times already.

London pointed at the television. “Those four are the original squad goals.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want their man problems,” Samiah said. “They all had messed up relationships.”

“True dat.” London laughed, reclaiming her seat and picking up the skein of yarn she’d been working with since they started tonight’s crafty girls’ night in.

“I thought you didn’t like knitting?” Taylor asked. “You’re a pro at this.”

“This isn’t knitting—it’s crochet,” London corrected her. “I’d forgotten how relaxing it is.”

“So you’ve done this before,” Samiah said in an accusatory tone. “That’s why you picked up on it so quickly.”

“It was years ago. This lady at church taught us during vacation Bible school back when I was in like the eighth grade. I thought I’d forgotten how to do it, but I guess it’s like riding a bicycle.” She held up the swatch of uniform, deep purple stitches. Taylor had to admit she was impressed.

“So is crocheting easier?” Samiah asked, her attention focused on the needles and yarn she’d been struggling with for the past hour. Her forehead creased in concentration as she unsuccessfully tried once again to cast on. “Why is this so hard?”

“Uh-oh,” London said in a singsong voice. “Someone has found something she isn’t good at.”

“I’ve only been trying for an hour,” Samiah said. “Just wait.”

“She’s going to drive herself crazy trying to prove she can knit,” London said. “This is the problem with perfectionists.”

“Takes one to know one,” Samiah gritted through clenched teeth as she concentrated on her knitting.

London took a sip of wine before pointing her crochet hook at Taylor. “How did the practice test go?”

Taylor hadn’t been prepared for the quick change of subject. Unbidden, erotic scenes of what happenedafterher practice test sprang to mind, but she forced them from her head as she turned her attention to London.