Let's Get It On (6 page)

Stumbling backward momentarily, Damon regained his footing and pushed Maurice off him. “What the hell is your problem, man? You can have her when I'm done.”

Stopping himself from falling, Maurice grabbed the edge of the table. “I don't like to hear guys disrespect women, especially ones I know. Stay away from her, or you're going to have to deal with me.”

“What? Are you her father? She chose me and not you. Bet that just burns your knickers, being that you're the NFL star and I'm just a regular guy. You can have my sloppy seconds.”

Figuring that another second talking to this guy would lead to an assault charge, Maurice stomped away from Damon.
I have to find Kenya,
he thought as he dashed to the front desk.

The front-desk clerk, who's back was turned to Maurice, was chatting away with a housekeeper.

“Yo, excuse me,” Maurice said, his voice deepened by aggression.

The blond clerk whirled around, hair whipping around her face. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, I need to find a guest,” Maurice said, smiling wide enough to show all of his teeth. “Her name is Kenya Taylor. What room is she in?”

Shaking her head, the clerk replied, “I can't give you that information. Our guests have an expectation of privacy, which I can't violate.”

“She might be in danger, and I have to warn her.”

Placing her hands on the counter and leaning forward, the clerk smiled a generic smile, then said, “I'll be happy to take a message and deliver it.”

Folding his arms across his chest and frowning, Maurice exhaled loudly and took the pen and paper the clerk had extended to him. After looking at the blank piece of paper, he knew it was pointless to leave a note. He knew the moment Kenya saw his name, she wouldn't read it. The clerk turned her back to him and continued her conversation with the housekeeper, and Maurice leaned over the counter, hoping to find something that had a list of the guests.

“Sir,” the clerk snapped, catching him in the middle of his snooping. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, this pen doesn't write,” he replied, handing it back to her.

She frowned. “Move away from the desk.”

Maurice knew that if he had a few bills to pass to her, she would be happy to give him Kenya's information. Walking away from the desk, he decided that he wasn't above offering a bribe. He headed to his room to retrieve his wallet.

As the door to the elevator opened, Kenya, dressed in a red dress that hugged her body like a second skin, started to walk out. Maurice drank in her image, eyeing her long, toned legs and noticing for the first time the small butterfly tattoo on her calf.

He blocked her exit by grasping her elbow and pushing her back into the elevator.

“What the hell is your problem?” she demanded hotly.

Maurice pressed the button to close the doors. “I need to talk to you,” he said as he pressed the button for the twentieth floor.

“Have you lost what's left of your mind? Let me off.”

“Where are you going?”

“Are you kidding me? You have the audacity to ask me where I'm going? You don't have the right to even speak to me.” Crossing her arms across her chest, she turned her back to him. “If you must know, I have a date.”

“With that dude from the pool? Don't do it, Kenya. He's bad news.”

“As opposed to you, a liar and a cheater?”

“Kenya, listen to me. That guy's up to no good, and he's out to hurt you, to use you as a sex object.”

Kenya's eyes widened to the size of silver dollars, and her mouth dropped open, as if she were about to scream. “What did you just say? Hurt me? No one can ever inflict the pain on me that you did. Now you want to pretend that you're concerned about me. Whatever, Maurice. Get out of my way.” Reaching around him, she attempted to press the button for the lobby. Maurice grabbed her hand.

Jerking away, Kenya pushed him against the wall. “Just leave me alone. I don't need you hovering over me like you give a damn.”

Circling his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him and could feel her trembling against his chest. He just didn't know if it was from desire or anger.

“Kenya, you can hate me forever, but trust me, this guy is after one thing and one thing only.”

“So what?”

He should've let her go. He had only her best interests at heart, and she wanted to act as if he'd done something wrong. But she felt so damned good in his arms. Time had stood still in that elevator. She wasn't angry with him, and he hadn't broken her heart. Before another second passed, Maurice leaned in, seizing the opportunity to kiss her succulent lips.

She was sweeter than he remembered, reminding him of his favorite confection—chocolate-covered strawberries. Slipping his hands underneath her dress, he cupped her perfect ass and pulled her even closer so she could feel his throbbing desire.

For a moment, Kenya was lost in the kiss, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth, and she melted against him. But just as quickly as she fell under his spell, she broke away from him and slapped him.

“Don't ever touch me again,” she cried.

“You sure about that?” he asked, closing the space between them, their lips were almost touching.

Kenya eased back, bumping into the mirrored wall. Maurice knew he was in her space and she had nowhere to go. He pressed the emergency stop button, and the blaring bells of the alarm went off.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded, pressing her hands against his chest.

He grabbed her wrists and sought out her lips. She turned her head, and his lips landed on her neck—a spot that Maurice knew would get her hot. Kenya was rendered powerless under his kiss, and he knew it. Slowly, he moved down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he slipped the straps of her dress down. When her breasts spilled out, he took her chocolate-drop nipple into his mouth. With his hand, he stroked her other breast until her nipple hardened like a diamond.

“No, no,” she moaned, attempting to push him away. Her knees buckled as he continued to suck her breasts, alternately kissing each one. “Please. Stop.”

Maurice pulled back, running his finger down the center of her chest. “Is that what you really want?”

“No, yes. Yes, I want you to stop.” Fixing her dress, Kenya pulled the emergency stop button, and the elevator started moving again. She stood as far away from Maurice as she could, holding on to the rail behind her because her knees were shaking.

As soon as the door opened, she bolted off the elevator, nearly knocking over an elderly couple attempting to enter.

Maurice licked his lips as he watched Kenya run away. Now that he had a taste of her again, he wasn't going to be satisfied until he had all of her. But he was going to have to make sure Damon didn't get his clutches on her.

By the time she made it down ten flights of stairs, Kenya couldn't breathe. She stopped and held the edge of the wall until her breathing became normal. Turning her eyes upward, she blew an angst-filled sigh. Why had she allowed him to touch her and kiss her? He had stirred feelings inside her that she'd worked so hard to bury in the deepest recesses of her heart. All it had taken was one kiss. One damned kiss that had almost made her forget nine years of pain and all the lies he'd told when he was sneaking around with Lauryn. One kiss had reminded her of the love they'd shared once, the tender moments they'd had sitting in her dorm room, eating pizza and kissing.

He's the one who ruined it all,
she thought as she started walking again.
And he had the nerve to tell me not to go out with Damon. Then he gropes me in the elevator, as if he has a right to touch me.

Sweat dripped from her brow, her hands shook, and her panties were moist as she relived those moments in the elevator. Maurice had every right to touch her, because she wanted him to. She wanted him to make her feel alive, wanted to feel him inside her and taste him again.

At the fifth floor, Kenya used her passkey to open the door to the stairwell. She ran into her room, peeled off her clothes, then jumped in the shower, setting the dial to cold. But she was still on fire. It was as if Maurice's lips had branded her, igniting a desire that burned from the soul and oozed out of every pore. Running her soapy rag over her sensitive breasts, Kenya closed her eyes and fought the urge to hop out of the shower and track Maurice down so that he could cool the fire he'd started inside her.

Snatching the handle on the shower to stop the spray, she grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her wet body, and headed for her suitcase to find another outfit for her date, for which she was now late. Kenya pulled on a strapless white dress and eased into a pair of sling-back white sandals after smoothing lotion over her body. Dashing out the door, she rushed to the elevator, hoping Damon hadn't left the restaurant.

When the doors of the elevator opened, Kenya saw Damon turning to leave the lobby. “Damon,” she called out, jogging slightly to catch up with him. She grabbed his shoulder when she caught up to him. “Sorry I'm late.”

Turning around, Damon smiled broadly. “You were worth the wait. We missed the sunset, though.”

“There'll be others, I hope,” she said.

He clasped her hand with his. “The beach awaits us, princess.”

Kenya blushed as they walked toward the beach. Something about the way Damon talked to her made her feel regal. He had manners, which most of the men she'd met in Atlanta and Maurice certainly didn't have.

Glancing over her shoulder, she gave Damon a cool once-over. He was the color of peanut butter, and his eyes sparkled, as if he held a wicked secret behind them. Maurice's words echoed in her head.
That guy's up to no good.

“You're quiet,” Damon said, slowing his pace once they reached the beach.

“I was just enjoying the view,” Kenya lied.

Stopping and standing in front of her, he replied, “So am I. God, you're so beautiful.” He pulled Kenya into his arms and kissed her forcefully.

Breaking off the kiss, she took two steps back. “Damon, I didn't come out here with you to—”

“Dressed like that and on a secluded part of the beach with me? What did you think was going to happen?” He pulled her against his body again. “You want me, and I'm going to have you.”

Kenya beat her fists against his chest, trying to free herself from Damon's clutches. But he wasn't letting her go and began pulling at her clothes.

“Stop it! Let me go!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Get your hands off me!”

Damon threw her down in the sand. “Shut up, bitch,” he said as he unbuckled his belt. Kenya kicked him in his groin, temporarily stunning him. She struggled to push him off her. Then, lightning quick, Damon was snatched off her. With her eyes closed, she could hear sounds of a struggle and fists hitting flesh. She was afraid to move, afraid to open her eyes, because she didn't know what she was going to see. Was Damon overpowering her savior? Was she going to be in even more danger?

“Kenya? Kenya, are you okay?” Maurice asked.

She opened her eyes and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my God.”

Maurice lifted her from the sand. “Are you sure he didn't hurt you?”

She shook her head. “But if you hadn't gotten here when you did . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Let me take you back to the hotel, and we can call the police.”

“Just get me out of here.” Her lips grazed his ear, and her voice sounded as fragile as a wounded bird's chirp. Trembling against his chest, Kenya held his neck tightly as if she were a vise. She didn't feel the sand that dropped from her dress, because her body was numb. Did she have
victim
tattooed across her forehead in ink, which only men with bad intentions could see?

Why was I so stupid?
she thought as Maurice set her down before they entered the hotel. Though her knees were shaking, she wanted to walk.

Maurice wouldn't let go of her hand, and with his other hand, he stroked her back comfortingly. Once they entered the lobby, Kenya realized that she didn't want to be alone right now.

“Don't tell me you're okay, because I know you're not,” Maurice said, holding her tightly. He stroked her hair, brushing the sand from it.

Her silence spoke volumes, and without even asking, Maurice led her to his room. Nervously, she chewed on her full bottom lip, torn between her gratitude to him for saving her from sexual assault and her anger with him. In reality, Kenya was no longer angry with Maurice, and if she was honest with herself, she would forgive him. How could she not? She had put her love life on hold, keeping on ice that part of herself that Maurice had hurt. Never had she thought they'd have a second chance, and never had she thought he would save her.

Turning and facing him, she stared thoughtfully into his eyes. “I should've listened. But I was just hoping that you were jealous and trying to stop me from having a good time.”

Laughing softly, he placed his hand on her shoulder, which was trembling. “I was jealous. But I had gotten a vibe from him that I didn't like. Nothing happened, did it?”

She ran her hand across her face. “No, but not from his lack of trying. What is it about me that men see and try to take advantage of?” Focusing her stare on him, Kenya really wanted that question answered.

Stroking her cheek, Maurice stared back. His eyes were blank, as if he knew he was one of the men she was talking about. She moved out of the way of his hand, no longer wanting to be touched.

“Maybe I should go back to my room,” she said.

“Does that creep know where you're staying?”

“Hell no. I'm not that stupid.”

“No one is calling you stupid, but from . . . never mind.”

Bristling like a cat that had been rubbed the wrong way, Kenya lashed out at him angrily. “I know you saved me from him, but by no means do you have the right to judge me. I made a mistake. I seem to do that with all the men I chose, including you.”

“Can we take this beef between us and grill it? What happened to us happened a long time ago, and I don't know how I can change that.”

“You can't, and you can't make up for it, either,” she hissed. “Why am I even here with you?”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he made Kenya face him. “Because I need to make things right, and there are no accidents in this world.”

“So what was Lauryn?”

“A mistake.”

She pushed his hands away. “But you never said, ‘I'm sorry, Kenya.' You never told me what she had that you didn't have in me. I did everything for you. I loved you since we were kids, and the first chance you got to trade me in, you did.”

“Kenya, I'm not going to explain away what I did. I can't, because I was wrong, but I was young.”

“No excuse, not at all.”

Maurice perched himself on the edge of the bed. “I'm not making excuses, Kenya, but are you still holding a grudge after nine years? You know, my life hasn't been a bowl of cherries. I've had my struggles and . . .”

“NFL championship. Wow, what a struggle.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice like maple syrup.

“She left me at the altar. That's why I'm here with my brother.” His voice dipped low, and for a split second, tears gleamed in his eyes.

Momentarily, Kenya reached out her hand, timidly touching his shoulder. Then she moved her hand as if her skin burned. “What happened?”

“It just didn't work out.”

“Took you getting all the way to the altar to figure that out? How do I know you didn't just walk out on her? Your history precedes you,” Kenya said as she took two steps toward the door.

“Don't leave.” His voice rose like that of a child not wanting a parent to leave him with his grandmother. “I'm sorry, Kenya.”

Turning around and seeing the tears glistening in his eyes, she had to believe that his apology was genuine. Then again, he was a master manipulator. At least that was the image of him that she'd developed in her mind over the years.

Don't let him get to you,
she thought as she chewed on her lip.

Maurice closed the space between them. “If you walk out that door, I want you to go knowing that I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to reach out to you. I just didn't know how. I figured by now, some dude from back home would have swept you off your feet, and I was out of luck.”

Folding her arms across her chest, she frowned and sucked her teeth. “So, Lauryn was the consolation prize?”

“Forget Lauryn. I'm sure she's forgotten about me,” he snapped. “Can we talk about us and about this moment?”

“There is no
us.
” Kenya opened the door and stormed out of the room. Though her heart was conflicted, she couldn't stay there and listen to him say the words that she'd waited all of these years to hear. Tonight was too emotionally charged. No one was speaking or thinking logically. As she walked to the elevator, her head swam in a sea of confusion. Pressing the button for the doors to open, she wondered if she and Maurice would have another chance.

His words echoed in her head.
There are no accidents in this world.
Maybe their meeting had been fate.