Page 35

I couldn’t afford to let my mother start poking and prodding at my seams. After the past few days, I would undoubtedly start to unravel.

I had been sitting in the same position for damn near twenty minutes. Well, I thought it had been twenty. Time wasn’t really registering with me tonight. I was stretched out in the leather recliner in my game room, feet kicked up, head resting against the back, with my eyes closed. The TV was on across the room, but the volume was muted. Some baseball game I hadn’t been paying attention to was still playing.

It wasn’t that I was asleep. I was remembering earlier. Remembering my office. Remembering Topaz. Fuck. My jaw clenched as my mind went right back to where I had been trying not to let it go since she walked out on me. I remembered the blouse first. That misbuttoned blouse. In all her years of working for me, Topaz was always flawless when she stepped into work. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything on her out of place. So, that blouse let me know she was off her game.

I wished my memory would stop there, focus on the worry I felt for her hurt, but nah. My mind had to go further, to something hot and sweet and possibly a problem to that damn HR department. I’d called my dad to bring us lunch, leftovers from the night before. She looked like she needed the comfort his food brought. I wasn’t expecting what happened next.

Her mouth… man, the thought of her mouth kept fucking with me. I kept thinking about how soft her lips had been when she kissed me. All these years I had been wondering what that mouth tasted like. I thought about it every time I saw the gloss shining on those full lips while she argued with me, smiled at me, reminded me of my appointments and all the details of dozens of deals. I had imagined kissing her too many fucking times to count, and I still hadn’t gotten shit right.

Topaz tasted sweet and warm, with a little taste of the mint she’d eaten after lunch. Her tongue had slid against mine as she kissed me hungrily, like she’d dreamed about it, too. And her scent was fucking mouthwatering. Her perfume had been everywhere, the soft, feminine shit she always wore. I’d inhaled the familiar green apple aroma of her hair when I buried my face against the side of her neck. I could still feel her. That was probably the worst part. I could feel that soft ass underneath my fingertips, the weight of those full titties, the hips that filled my hands. She’d been so warm and soft, inside and out, her pussy tighter, wetter, hotter than I had ever even dreamed…

I shifted in the chair and opened my eyes. “Damn.” The curse was soft, low. And it didn’t help at all. I dragged a hand down my face and shut my eyes again. That was definitely a bad idea, because immediately, she was back beneath me, spread for me like a good girl, her ass bouncing against me as she whimpered my name.

But I didn’t have the luxury of leaving out what happened afterward. Years ago, when Yoli and I had been bleeding the block heavy, a desperate ass fiend had decided to drive a knife into my stomach. It was a nasty ass gut wound, one of the worst there was.

It had nothing on how I felt hearing her words. I don’t know if I did this because I was hurt. My teeth clenched on that one. You were never supposed to be like this.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I know.”

And still, I didn’t regret it. That was the problem; I was so gone over that damn woman that I didn’t regret a single second. I’d take that aftermath every time, if I could have her again. I wanted to feel guilty about that, because I should have. The boss in me should have been bothered that I’d crossed that line with an employee. The friend in me should have been worried that she was too vulnerable after what happened with Adam. The decent man Tariq Masters had raised should have wished we’d slowed down.

I had asked her more than once, though. I had given her every chance to stop. I couldn’t regret it because I had been too busy hoping she was done fighting me, done pretending that we could fight what was between us. I should’ve known that Topaz was too invested in workplace boundaries and her role as my assistant. She thought she could dismiss our chemistry. After today, I refused to let her play in my face about it. Hell, a nigga had some pride.

I stared up at the ceiling. My phone vibrated against the table beside me. I ignored it, as I let my lids drift shut. Finally, it stopped. Unfortunately, it started again almost immediately. I opened one eye. Whoever it was was persistent as hell. I reached over, snatched it up, and frowned at the name on the screen. KiKi. Kiana didn’t call me often. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time she had. That had me sitting up and answering.

“What’s up?” I greeted.

“Saadiq.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. Everything in me went on alert. I stood up abruptly.

“What happened?”

“Come to Paz’s house.”

I grabbed my wallet and keys from the table next to me and started walking. “What happened, Kiana?”

“Adam is here.”

The rage that I had struggled to contain Saturday threatened to consume me. Fuck what Topaz said. She might not want me, but this fool wasn’t getting another chance, either.

“What the fuck he doing there?” I demanded as I walked over to the cabinet in the corner and tapped in a code.

“He said he was coming to get his shit. She let him in through the garage, but she wouldn’t let him in the house. Now this nigga is at the front door beating on it like the police.”

I extracted what I wanted and locked it back. “Where Topaz?”

“In the living room. She good. She’s mad more than anything, but before it gets worse—hold on.”

I heard a muffled boom through the phone, then another. Swear my vision went red.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Him hitting the door.”

“Ki, why you whispering?”

“Because Paz told me not to call Damie, but I feel like if she catches me calling you, she still gon’—”