Make It Last Forever. Gwyneth Bolton

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Make It Last Forever - Gwyneth Bolton


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her head in an effort to try and clear her obvious delusion, Karen took a step back.

      With his cocksure grin aimed dead at her, Darius took a step forward.

      If she had her Mace out she would have considered spraying him with it. She would have considered it, but she never would have done it. The tingling in her gut and the sudden goose pimples popping up on her skin wouldn’t have allowed her to really hurt the pesky man.

      “Are you always so annoying?” Dang, her voice sounded husky and wanton even to her own ears. She wondered what it sounded like to him.

      Judging by the self-assured glimmer in his eyes and the flash of arrogance in his smile, he had picked up on it all right. Leaning closer, he actually let his hand brush her face.

      An electric charge coursed through her body, and a sudden case of dry mouth overwhelmed her.

      Are my palms sweating? Sheesh, my freaking palms are sweating!

      Swallowing a couple of times and failing at not making it look like she was taking gulps of air in the process, she slanted her eyes.

      “I’m not trying to be annoying. I just want to give you a ride home. A pretty woman such as yourself shouldn’t be walking out here alone.”

      “It’s summertime, and there’s still a little daylight left. Plus, I’m just walking to the bus stop. I do it all the time.”

      “Well, today I would love it if you’d do me the honor of letting me see you safely to your door. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t have to ride public transportation. It’s the least I can do.”

      She couldn’t help but cut her eyes. How did he manage to make chauvinism sexy?

      Oh, hell, no!

      Chauvinism was so not sexy, no matter how much he drank her in with his dark brown bedroom eyes.

      Uh-uh. No.

      “If I have managed to make it to the bus stop and home by my little lonesome all these years without a big strong man to make sure I got there, then surely I can continue to do so,” she said in an overly sweet voice before flipping back to her normal tone. “Your showing up at my youth center didn’t alter the universe or anything. I’m still the same grown-ass woman I was when I woke up this morning.”

      Darius really let his eyes do the talking then. The brown probes gave her an up-and-down appraisal that left her feeling fully and truly exposed. She felt like he could see inside of her, knowing her thoughts, wants and desires.

      “You ain’t neva lied about that! But check it, let me just see you home. I’ll sleep so much better knowing that you’re safe. Remember, I just had a cousin killed in this neighborhood. Just let me do this.” He held out his hand, and in a moment of complete and utter craziness that she would have never anticipated in a million years, she took it and followed him to his car. As soon as her hand touched his, a jolt of overwhelming awareness went through her, and she knew that she was in big trouble.

      As soon as Karen’s hand touched his, a spark of something Darius couldn’t name ran through him. Trying to ignore the loud, incessant beating of his heart, Darius gave a quick sideways glance to the sexy, vibrant, out-of-this-world dynamic beauty holding his hand. In a matter of a few minutes, he felt like he never wanted to let her go.

      And he couldn’t stop staring at her for anything. He actually stood in front of his car for at least a couple of seconds trying to figure out why for a split second she looked like a different woman. He could have sworn her auburn and copper locs morphed into a 1970s Angela Davis Afro for a minute.

      Yeah, Karen Williams had him tripping for real. He needed to hurry up and get her home so he could figure out how one look at her made him want to spend all his time getting to know every single thing about her.

      Once they were both settled into the car, he turned to her. “So where to, beautiful?”

      “You’re going to regret offering me a ride.” She gave him a saucy grin. “I live all the way in South Brooklyn, in the Boerum Hill neighborhood. Betcha now you wish you had let me take the bus.” A lyrical laugh escaped her lips.

      He laughed and winked at her. “Actually, my place, when I’m in town, is in South Brooklyn, as well. I have a loft in Cobble Hill. That’s about as close as this Brooklyn boy was going to get to Manhattan. If I’m in the city, I’m in my borough.”

      She gave a soft chuckle. “Didn’t want to get a place in money-making Manhattan, huh?”

      “Manhattan makes it—” he started.

      “—but Brooklyn takes it!” They finished the old party chant together and laughed.

      “So see, it’s fate. I was meant to spend more time with you tonight.” He started the car and realized that he actually believed what he just said. He wasn’t running game or anything.

      Once Darius had dropped Karen off at her apartment, he still couldn’t get her out of his head. It was almost as if she was on a continuous loop set to repeat indefinitely. Her smile, her luminous eyes, her scent…

      Damn, her scent was like honey, hibiscus, dew and a shot of warm desire. He could imagine living the rest of his life with nothing but her scent for nourishment. It almost felt as if something snapped to life in him as soon as he got close enough to get a good whiff. The close quarters in the car had been hell. He’d wanted to pull over and pull her into his arms.

      The sharp ring of the phone jolted him out of his reverie. When he made the mad dash to catch it and found that it was his manager, Cullen Stamps, he wished that he had just let it ring.

      “So now that that hard-edged bitch has turned you down, are you over your need to spend time at that little youth center and get back in the studio? You don’t have a lot of time to record the album before your next film begins shooting. In this business, you have to strike while you’re hot. You don’t have time to waste at that youth center. Send them a donation in your cousin’s name and call it a day.” No hello or how’re you doing for Cullen. Just straight to business.

      Hesitation and hiding never appealed to Darius, so he was up-front about his lack of success. But he also let Cullen know that he didn’t intend to give up. In fact, he was more dedicated than ever to make this happen.

      “I really like Karen, and I admire what she’s doing with the youth. I might try and figure out a way to volunteer at her center whenever I have a break in my schedule. You know, set up something ongoing and permanent.”

      “What do you mean whenever you have a break in your schedule? There is no such thing as a break. You don’t have a break now! You should be in the studio. Time is money!”

      “I mean just what I said. Hey, it’s for a good cause. It’s for my cousin’s memory. It’s the least I can do, and I’m going to do it.” He didn’t even worry about the edge in his voice. Cullen needed to hear that edge and know to back the hell up.

      “Do I have to remind you that every minute you spend at that center is time away from the studio? And what about the fact that you running around in the hood without folks to protect you isn’t exactly the smartest idea. You may not be as successful as Will Smith yet, but you’re still a highly recognizable person. You wouldn’t want to end up just like your cousin by trying to do something in his memory.”

      Darius could literally feel his face twisting in anger. East New York was his hood. He’d be damned if he started walking around with bodyguards in his own neighborhood. That wasn’t going to happen. And for Cullen to insinuate that he needed bodyguards or a damn entourage? That was the height of disrespect, and he wasn’t having it.

      “I can take care of myself.” His tone moved from hard-edged to straight-up harsh. And sometimes with Cullen that was exactly what it took.

      “If you say so—”

      “I say so.”

      “Well, what about recording? We don’t


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