Promises We Make. Pamela Yaye
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Niveah’s lips as Damien’s fingers probed her core, and when she finally spoke her voice was several octaves lower. “You feel how wet I am? You did this to me, Damien, and the only regret I have is not approaching you sooner.”
“I didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”
“You haven’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Easily, he lifted her up off the floor. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he swooped down, and feasted on her lips. Niveah folded her arms around his neck, and wrapped her legs around his slim, muscular torso. Feeling sexier than a Maxim swimsuit model, she nipped at his earlobe, then eagerly sucked it into her mouth.
On the king-size bed they laughed and played, lost in their exhilarating private world. They were in perfect sync, moving naturally together, as graceful as a pair of ballroom dancers. An hour in, and countless orgasms later, Niveah was begging Damien to climax. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take!”
“I’m nowhere near being ready,” he announced, thrusting his hips, plunging deeper still. “You feel so damn good, I may never come …”
“We’ll see about that.” Niveah flicked her tongue against his ear, and he cooed. Propping up her elbows, she loosened her legs from around his waist, and rotated her hips in tight, fast circles.
Damien swore.
To achieve the intended outcome, Niveah added her mouth to the equation. Placing kisses on his neck, his erect, chocolate-brown nipples and all over his chest. Realizing she’d weakened her prey, she went in for the kill. In one swift movement, Niveah had Damien flat on his back. His eyes widened in surprise, causing Niveah to giggle. Keeping her head up, her back straight, she lowered herself onto his lap and released a deep, satisfying groan.
Squeezing her pelvic muscles held Damien firmly in place, and before she could put any of those childhood horseback riding lessons to good use, he gripped her hips, gave a powerful, thrust and collapsed onto the mound of pillows beneath him. “Damn, baby, that was incredible.”
Niveah licked the dryness from her lips. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“If I knew you were such an animal in bed, I would have updated my will!” he teased, pulling her to his chest.
Niveah tensed. Her friends said cuddling was against the rules, so she was surprised when Damien spread the blanket over them and wrapped his arms around her. Shouldn’t I be dressed and on my way out the door? Isn’t this how these things usually worked?
Sweat clung to her skin, and matted clumps of hair were stuck to her shoulders, but Damien was smiling at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His grip was fierce, protective, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The hotel suite smelled like sex, and a hot stifling air that made Niveah feel as if she was trapped inside an oven.
“I don’t want to get up, but if I don’t get something to drink I’m going to die of dehydration,” he joked, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have what you’re having.” Swathing the bed sheet across her chest, she carefully tucked it under her arms, and braced her body against the headboard. “Better yet, make mine a double!”
Damien chuckled as he switched on the bedside lamp. “We should order up some room service. I’m starving, and I bet you are, too.”
As if on cue, her stomach growled. “I can’t. I have to get going.”
“Why, do you have someone waiting for you at home?” Damien picked up the phone, but his gaze remained locked on her face. “Things happened so fast, I forgot to ask if you had a man.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be here with you,” she told him, unsure of what to make of his comment.
“Then stay and have dinner with me.”
Niveah opened her mouth to decline, but when he smiled at her, she caved. “If you’re sure you don’t mind me staying a little while longer, I’d love a bite to eat. I’m not picky when it comes to food, anything will be fine.”
“I’d like to order an extra-large deep-dish pizza with everything on it, and the twenty-piece buffalo wings,” he said, into the phone. “Bill it to my suite, and ask the concierge to leave the cart outside the door. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Damien ended the call, took two sodas out of the fridge and handed one to her. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? I’m curious to why a woman like you is still on the market.”
“Funny, I was just wondering the same thing about you.”
“Are you trying to dodge the question?” He wore a serious expression, but Niveah could see the makings of a smile on his lips. “Are you between lovers or playing the field like me?”
“None of the above. I’m married to my work, and I don’t have time to date. I was engaged last year, but it didn’t work out. We … we wanted different things.” Niveah glanced out the window. It had been a year since Stewart left her for another woman—someone younger, and more adventurous in bed—but every time she thought about their breakup, she felt a pang in her chest. He wasn’t ever coming back so why was she thinking about him? “What do you think of Tampa? It’s nothing like the Big Apple, but I bet you’re loving the weather.”
“What makes you think I’m from the East Coast?”
Niveah laughed. “No offense, but you could be the poster child for NYC. The cocky, bad-boy swagger instantly gave you away, and if that’s not enough, you have an accent, too.”
“All right, you got me,” he admitted, drowning the rest of his soda and grabbing another one. “I grew up in the Bronx. And you’re right about the weather. Every time I come down here for business, I think about relocating permanently!”
They laughed.
“I’ll be right back.” Damien got up off the bed, and strode out of the bedroom. Niveah watched him leave, marveling at his utterly perfect body. Resisting the urge to scream into her pillow, she smoothed a hand over her cheeks and ran a hand through her wild, unruly hair, knowing she could give the winner of the Atlanta Hair Show a run for their money.
Spotting the remote, she picked it up from off the nightstand, and pointed it at the black entertainment unit. Why am I still sitting here watching TV? This is the perfect opportunity for me to break free. Niveah tried to get off the bed, but her limbs were asleep.
Hearing a door slam, she strained her eyes toward the foyer. The scent of mozzarella cheese hit her nose and Niveah licked her lips. Twice. All thoughts of leaving evaporated into thin air when Damien walked into the bedroom and placed the box of pizza on the nightstand.
“Dig in, beautiful. You’ve worked up quite an appetite tonight.”
Niveah dove right in, helping herself to a large, gooey slice, but she couldn’t help thinking the whole scene was a little strange. She was sitting in bed eating pizza and buffalo wings with her one-night stand.
“Cool, Robin Thicke is about to perform. That dude’s got amazing chops!”
“I’m impressed. Most men would never admit to being a fan.”
“I never said I thought the guy was cute. I said he could sing. Nothing wrong with that.”
Niveah bit into her pizza. It was hot and loaded—just the way she liked it, and if Damien didn’t hurry up and start eating, there’d be none left. “Everyone has their weakness, and mine is definitely junk food,” she said, chewing slowly. “Oh, and coffee. I drink five, sometimes six cups a day. It all depends on how bad things are going at the office.”
“You must have a very demanding career.”
“It’s not my job that’s going to kill me, it’s my lazy, dimwitted employees!” Shaking her head, she wiped the oil off her hands with a napkin. “If