Make You Mine Page 2

  Julius pulled a chair over and sat down to watch Karina’s show, automatically straightening the crease of his black slacks.

  “Jules?”

  “Huh…what?” he asked, distracted as Karina played in the soft, moist folds of her feminine core.

  “Look, you owe me.”

  “Not tonight, Tamara,” he told her sternly. “Besides, I have to finish packing. You know I leave for Africa in the morning.”

  “As anal as you are?” Tamara mocked, with a laugh. “You’ve probably been packed since last week.”

  She was right. “Look, I just can’t tonight. Trust me on this.”

  “Jules.”

  “No, definitely not tonight,” he insisted, as Karina began to purr like a kitten being stroked.

  “Jules.”

  “Tamara, not—”

  “Julius,” she finished softly.

  He massaged his five o’clock shadow, which he kept neat and taped up with a weekly trip to his barber. He always rubbed his beard when he had a choice to make. A sure thing with Karina or a mercy date with Tamara’s unemployed friend.

  “Stop rubbing that sorry beard and say something, Jules.”

  He laughed softly at her astuteness. They’d been friends since college and she knew him well…too well. “This is one helluva favor you’re calling in. You…just…don’t…know.”

  Karina trembled and purred softly with her own climax, boldly looking him in his eyes as she did. Julius swallowed over a lump in his throat. “Oh, you owe me… big time.”

  Frustrated, Caress yanked the shirt over her head and threw it on the open sofa bed with the rest of her discarded garments. For the past thirty minutes she had struggled with what to wear. Not that she was trying to impress Mr. Julius Jones, photographer extraordinaire. She just liked to look her best at all times.

  Clad only in a denim skirt and her lace bra, Caress surveyed her slim wardrobe. Even when she was working she didn’t have much money to buy new clothes the way she wanted, but she tried to buy a few nice pieces that could be switched up.

  Caress turned and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the closet door. She absolutely hated the odd shape of her body. She wished her breasts were more the size of cantaloupes than plums. Some might say more than a mouthful was a waste, but Caress could only laugh at that. She definitely wanted to graduate out of the itty-bitty-titty committee, especially with her wide hips, shapely legs, and full bottom. She caught all kinds of hell trying to buy a two-piece outfit when her top was a size medium and her bottom a large.

  Stepping closer to the mirror, Caress leaned in to study her face. A lot of people likened her to Jennifer Lopez, but she didn’t see the resemblance. Sure, they both had classic Latin features and long straight dark hair, but Caress was only half Latina while J. Lo was a full-blooded Puerto Rican. Caress’s skin tone was definitely darker, and her hair had to be permed to maintain its polished straightness, both testaments to the African-American part of her heritage.

  And it was a heritage she wanted to know more about.

  She let her eyes drift across the studio apartment to the picture frame holding all the history she had in the world. It was a shame.

  If not for the faded photograph of a Latin man and a Black woman stuck in her meager belongings when she was carried to Child Protective Services as a toddler, Caress wouldn’t even know she was mixed. Her mother died when she was two. With no other family available to take her in, she became a child of foster care. Unfortunately that’s all she knew of her lineage. Was her Latin side Cuban, Puerto Rican, Dominican, or maybe Mexican? Was her Black side Jamaican, African, or American?

  Questions and more questions.

  Growing up without a past does that for a person.

  Brushing off her sadness, Caress turned and reached into the pile of clothes on the bed for the long-sleeved V-neck shirt she discarded earlier. She pulled on the fitted top and then reached into her small closet for her black knee-length boots—it was a cool October night and the boots should be fine. “Not bad for thirty bucks,” Caress told herself, as she sat down on the sofa bed to pull them on. “Not bad at all.”

  The entire outfit, including the boots, came from K-Mart, and if she didn’t tell, no one would know it. Caress was glad for discount chains because she couldn’t afford much else.

  She decided to let her hair hang freely around her shoulders and put on only some peach-tinted lip gloss with a little blush. A few precious drops of her DKNY perfume and Caress was ready to rock and roll.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw that she had some time before Tamara and Kendrick were supposed to pick her up. She grabbed the newspaper and opened it to the classifieds. She circled those jobs she wanted to apply for; drew a square around the ones she would settle for; and placed a big X through the ads she wouldn’t even dare consider—like “DANCERS WANTED FOR BIG $$$$.”

  Caress snorted. “Hell, my breasts aren’t big enough anyway.”

  She was just going over the revisions to her resume when her doorbell rang. Her ebony eyes darted to the door. She didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt nervous. As she gathered her purse and her house keys, Caress thought, If he smells like onions or has breath like a pooch, I’m going to kill Tamara .

  Julius stepped out of his enclosed frosted glass tub shower and reached for one of the neatly folded ivory-and-gold towels on the wooden shelves above the toilet. The scent of his soap mingled with the steam as he used his hand to wipe the condensation from the oversized square mirror over the pedestal sink.

  A past lady friend once told him that his house looked like either a photograph in a home-design magazine or a hotel suite. Julius took much pride in that fact. He couldn’t be comfortable in his home unless it was neat and orderly. A lot of people thought he had a maid service come in, but Julius took on the task himself at least once a week.

  It was all so different from the small, cramped two-bedroom apartment where he was raised. Everything about my life is different from back then , he thought, before purposefully pushing the sadness of his past away.

  As he brushed his teeth he thought with some dread of the night ahead. Tamara was throwing her friend on him like a shady car salesman trying to push a lemon on a dupe. If she was such a perfect woman, why didn’t she have a man or at least a friend with benefits? Lord knows, if he looked into Caress’s face and she resembled the character Sheneneh from Martin , he was going to freak out.

  Turning around he looked down at the three-tiered metal shelf holding all of his colognes: nearly twenty different varieties. He splashed on the Joop!, rolled on his deodorant, and then let the plush Egyptian towel fall from his slender waist. Immediately, he bent to scoop it from the floor to place in the linen hamper. He took one last glance around the bathroom to make sure everything was in order before he strode nude into his bedroom. Passing his kingsized mahogany sleigh bed, Julius entered his walk-in closet. He flipped the switch to flood it with light.

  When he first bought his home, he had the bedroom nearest the master suite converted to a walk-in closet. That left him with just one additional bedroom, but Julius thought it was well worth the sacrifice.

  Here—like everywhere else in his home—was the same neat, organized, and polished decor. Everything had a place, and as far he was concerned everything belonged in its place. Tamara teased him all the time because it resembled a retail store.

  Pulling open a drawer in the island located in the center of the closet, Julius extracte
d a folded pair of silk boxers from his selection of nearly fifty. He loved the feel of the cool material against his skin as he went throughout his day. He could never adjust to the tight, restraining feel of briefs, especially after he read they could reduce sperm production.

  Not that he wanted kids anytime soon. One day…just definitely not right now. Without the entanglements of a wife, steady girlfriend, or children, he could travel on a whim for work or play. Tomorrow he was leaving for a three-month trip to Africa where he would take pictures for his first photography book, My Africa .

  He enjoyed his freedom.

  Julius surveyed his slacks all hung on wooden hangers and organized by color and season. He eventually selected a pair made of charcoal linen. Next he opened his sock drawer in the island and selected one of the thirty folded pairs before moving to the cedar shelves where he kept all of his sweaters neatly folded. He chose a black V-neck. Lastly, he turned to the opposite wall where all his shoes sat neatly aligned on shelves and selected his newest pair of black Kenneth Coles.

  Within minutes he was dressed and checking out his appearance in the mirror lining the west wall of the closet. He looked good, and he knew it. His appearance was very important to him. He liked to be polished and well-groomed at all times.

  Before leaving his bedroom he effortlessly smoothed a dimple in his plush mocha comforter. He caught sight of his two extra large hard suitcases sitting on a pair of luggage caddies by the door. “This date better wrap up early,” he said, just as his doorbell rang.

  “Caress, this is Julius. Julius…Caress.”

  Caress’s eyebrows raised an inch in surprise and pleasure at the man who stood before her in his living room. Mister Julius Jones was fine. His jet black fade and a trimmed beard made his amazing eyes appear even more vibrant and alive in his lean handsome face. His features were keen and attractive. His tall-and-slender build was to Caress’s liking because she definitely wasn’t into beef-cake. And the clothes he wore fit his frame nicely, with ease and lots of style.

  When she looked up into his eyes, her heart double pumped so hard in her chest that she was sure it could be seen through her shirt. Then he smiled down at her and she actually lost her breath.

  Julius did a double take when he first laid eyes on Caress. The woman was stunningly beautiful and so obviously sexy that he wanted her stretched naked across his bed right then. She was as stylish as he and her petite size made him want to pick her up and cuddle her to his chest.

  “Damn,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his beard to wipe away the smile of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

  Tamara took it all in with gleeful eyes. It would be hard to miss how pleased they both were…so far. Nudging her husband, Tamara’s voice was filled with satisfaction when she said, “See, I told you so.”

  Chapter Two

  They all left the movie theater, laughing and talking comfortably. The romantic comedy had put them all at ease, and it was a wonderful start to their double date.

  “All right y’all, I’m hungry,” Tamara offered first, interrupting the group’s laughter about a funny scene in the movie.

  “Food sounds good to me,” Caress chimed in, hoping no one could hear her stomach growling.

  Kendrick used his muscular arm to pull his wife to his side. “How ’bout Mahogany’s?”

  Julius, who towered over the petite beauty by nearly a foot, looked down at her. “That’s cool with me. You?” he asked.

  Caress nodded, feeling heated by the look in Julius’s eyes and she felt her cheeks and nape warm. Damn, this man makes me breathless , she thought in amazement.

  As they all walked to the parking lot of the movie theater, Caress liked being by Julius’s side as she inhaled the faint scent of his cologne and enjoyed the warmth of their arms casually brushing. Even with the slightly cool winds of the fall evening she immediately felt heat infuse her body. Her nipples hardened into tight aching buds and Caress crossed her arms over her chest to hide that fact.

  “Cold?” Julius asked, his voice deep and warm like a hot toddy. “I have a jacket in my car that you can use.”

  Cold? Hell, I’m hot! she thought. “No, I’m fine, but thanks.”

  “I still don’t understand the need for different cars,” Kendrick said to Tamara, as he used his remote to deactivate the alarm on their silver Honda Accord.

  Tamara shot her husband an exasperated look. “Just get in the car, Kendrick.”

  Julius laughed low in his throat as he also deactivated his vehicle alarm. He moved with ease to open the passenger door of his green Range Rover for Caress.

  Caress smiled her thanks to him as he waited until she was comfortably seated to close the door behind her. As he jogged back around to the driver’s door, she followed him with her eyes—absorbing him.

  “Buckle up,” Julius said, smiling over at her as the car started with a purr. Soon he followed Kendrick and Tamara’s Honda out onto the street.

  “So you’re a photographer?” Caress asked, as she crossed the three-point harness belt over her chest and lap.

  He nodded. “Ever since I was a kid. I’ve always been fascinated by what moments in time you can capture—and keep forever—with a photo. Especially a well-taken one.”

  “Tamara says you’ve photographed some really beautiful women, some even in the nude. Must be a lot of…fun.”

  “I’d like to photograph you actually,” he said, pulling behind Kendrick at the red light.

  “Not in the nude,” Caress quickly balked, even as she pictured herself so easily stripping down to nothing in front of him.

  Julius turned his head to give her a leisurely once over. “Pity.”

  Caress flushed and the bud between her legs jumped to attention. Her heart raced.

  “Please, if you’ve seen one set of T & A, you’ve seen them all,” she teased, squirming a little in her seat under his direct and piercing gaze.

  “I doubt that.”

  As the foursome walked into the restaurant’s renovated brick building, Julius placed his hand at the small of Caress’s back wanting to touch her. “Have you eaten here before?” he asked, as the hostess led them to the bar to await a table in the dining area.

  Caress shook her head side to side to indicate she hadn’t as she took in the interior of the two-level structure for the first time.

  The contemporary décor was in hues of deep mahogany with rich blue-and-gold accents that were perfectly accentuated by the bright African sculptures and artwork adorning the brick walls.

  “I’ve heard about it, of course, but I’ve never been,” she told him, as she swayed on the barstool to the soft, sultry music filling the air from the live band playing on the stage at the front of the restaurant.

  “Welcome everyone. Julius.”

  The foursome all turned to find a stunningly beautiful woman standing behind them with a beguiling and warm smile.

  Julius didn’t miss Caress’s eyes darting between him and the woman. “Hello, Mahogany. What’s special on the menu tonight?” he asked, before taking a sip of his Crown Royal and Coke.

  “Roast lamb, grilled salmon, and of course, the jambalaya.”

  Tamara cleared her throat.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Caress, Tamara, and Kendrick this is Mahogany Woods, the owner of this fine establishment. Mahogany, this is Caress, my date, Kendrick, one of my best friends, and Tamara, my headache.”

  That earned him a pinch from Tam-T
am.

  Mahogany smiled. “It’s wonderful to meet you all. Julius, a pleasure as always. Enjoy your meal.”

  With that she was gone.

  “She’s gorgeous!” Tamara exclaimed, turning in her seat to face the bar.

  “You got that right. Damn, she’s—” Kendrick began.

  Tamara’s right eyebrow shot up and the rest of her husband’s words evaporated like steam.

  “So I guess you’re a regular here, huh?” Caress asked, as she picked up her glass of white wine from the napkin embossed with the word Mahogany.

  Julius looked over at her and felt a desire to push aside her long and fine hair to suckle the long line of her elegant neck. “I’ve never slept with Mahogany, Caress,” he told her, surprised by his candor since he owed her no explanations on his life—past or present.

  Caress took a deep sip of the liquid. “I never asked if you did.”

  He just laughed low into his drink, not believing for a second that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.

  Their hostess appeared with menus in her hand. “Your table’s ready. Right this way.”

  Caress and Julius picked up their drinks and followed the hostess across the hardwood dance floor to the wrought iron staircase leading to the stylish and hip dining area upstairs.

  Julius smiled devilishly at the delectable sight of Caress’s curvaceous bottom as he climbed the stairs behind her. Although he too thought she favored J. Lo, Ms. Lopez had nothing on Caress. I really need to thank Tamara .

  Julius slid into the booth next to Caress. “I’m starving,” he said, letting his thigh brush intimately against hers. He picked up the leather-bound menu in front of him.

  Caress leaned in close to point at his menu. “I’ll have the Caesar salad with grilled chicken and pine nuts. Right…here.”