“Yes, Dr. St. James,” he repeated smoothly, “unfortunately, you’re going to have to actively contribute to this conversation.” He winked.
“There’s nothing unfortunate about talking to you, Gage.”
And IknowI looked like a high school girl talking to her crush when I said that shit. My goodness, I was down bad tonight. Clearing my throat, I said,
“What projects have you done—or are you currently working on?”
“I was blessed to produce the entire reboot ofThe Hill.Are you old enough to remember that show?”
“Remember the show? Are you kidding me? You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t Olivia!” I said excitedly. Olivia was toThe Hillwhat Lisa Turtle was toSaved by the Bell,exceptThe Hillwas unapologetically Black.
“You produced that reboot? That shit was fire! And here you are talking about me flexing—you’re a visual genius.”
“Thank you, Mahasin. And to answer the second part of your question, I’ve been cast as the producer for the movieTomorrow Never Arrives.”
“Get the fuck out of here! Not that movie with that sexy-ass actor, Guy Hanson?” I gasped. “The things he could definitely do to me—the movie would have no choice but to be X-rated.” I bit my index finger without even realizing it.
“He aight,” Gage said, his tone holding a twinge of jealousy I didn’t miss.
“Can you introduce me to him?”
“I can, but I’m not.”
“And why not?”
“Because you already declared a sexual infatuation for him,” he said, eyes fixed on mine. “If I introduce you two, he’s guaranteed to fall for you—given how beautiful you are. I mean, your scent alone is alluring. No. Doing that would be dumb on my part, because then you couldn’t be mine.”
I know he was joking, but his tone didn’t match. He didn’t smile when he said it. It wasn’t possessive either; it was like hisheart slipped up and told the truth before his mind could stop it. And I couldn’t lie; it feltgoodhearing that roll off his tongue.
Get it together, bitch.
Not wanting to linger over “being his”, I switched the conversation. “So,The Hillhas won several awards, and anything with Guy Hanson’s name on it is an automatic box office hit. Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re rich?” I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.
That laugh—deep and smooth—made my pussy jump every damn time. The sound startled the nectar out of me, leaving me aching for him even more. I could already see him between my thighs, devouring me while my fingers tangled in those thick curls.
Yeah… where the fuck is Amber?
“Rich can be subjective, but if we’re talking financially,” he said, smirking, “let’s just say I’m emotionally unattached to broke shit.”
He chuckled and leaned back, eyes glinting. “What about you? A birthing center requires not only financial backing but also support from some very important people. Let me find out you’re among the elites, Dr. St. James.”
“Now who’s the big shit talker, Mr…?”
“Blaque. My full name is Gage Blaque.”
Damn. Even his name was sexy.
“Well, Mr. Blaque,” I teased, “just like you, I’m emotionally unattached to broke shit. My father is a judge, and my mama’s a retired surgeon. So yeah, I got a few people on speed dial if I need them—mayors, councilwomen, head surgeons, the Ghostbusters, you name it.”
He chuckled again and turned his attention toward the TV. I watched him raise his glass, the golden liquor tracing the curve of his lips before disappearing past his throat. His Adam’s apple flexed as he swallowed, and those full, smooth lips… Goodness. Ifound myself imagining the feel of his bottom lip between mine and nearly moaned into my glass.
He was all man—and I needed a sample.
“So let me ask you, what has a beautiful woman like yourself here all alone this evening?”
“Who said I was alone?” I smirked.
“Pardon my assumption,” Gage said, leaning closer, “but we’ve been talking for a good fifteen minutes uninterrupted, and if you were mine, there’s no way I’d leave you to give anyone else this kind of attention.”
