Make You Mine Page 6

  She was just finishing up when she heard her cell phone ringing from her purse in the hall. Hurrying to wash her hands, Caress made it back out to the hall in record time. “Hey, Tam. What’s up?” she greeted her friend after seeing her number on the caller ID.

  “Just checking on you. How’d it go?”

  Caress kept the phone pressed to her ear as she jogged up the stairs to her room. “Girl, to hell with complaining pimps. It’s hard out here for everybody.”

  Tamara laughed. “Tell me about it.”

  Caress bent over to dig a pair of sweats out of her hamper of clean clothes that she still had to fold. She saw a yellow tank and she grabbed that too. “I just can’t believe I’m in this mess.”

  “Shit happens.”

  “Yes, I know and usually to me,” Caress drawled as she put the phone on speaker and then set it on the nightstand next to an unfinished bottle of Snapple.

  “How’s everything at the house?”

  Caress quickly removed the black sweater dress and high-heeled boots she wore. “If our baby is half the neat freak his father is then my womb is spotless.”

  “Julius can be very… particular .”

  Caress started to say anal was the better word, but who was she to complain? The man was doing her a huge favor and she hadn’t forgotten that once in these last two weeks since his return from Africa. “Well, I hardly see him. We just do our own thing you know. We pass each other like ships in the night.”

  Tamara got silent.

  Caress gladly slipped on the sweats and tee. She instantly felt better. “Tamara? You there?”

  “Umm-hmmm.”

  Caress froze in pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “What?” she asked, waiting for whatever it was Tamara wanted to say.

  “Nothing,” her friend said simply. Too simply.

  Caress arched a brow. “Oh, it’s something.”

  “Well…I just wondered how you guys feel, you know, being around each other and…stuff and you know memories and…stuff comes drifting back and…”

  “Yeah, I know. Stuff?” Caress bent down to the floor to find her left slipper somewhere under the pile of shoes under the bed. “We’re not screwing, Tamara, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “Hmmm. Pity.”

  Unable to find the slipper, Caress settled on a fresh pair of thick white ankle socks instead. “Pity?”

  “You told me that morning after y’all’s big night that the sex was amazing . That was your word, right?”

  Caress bit her bottom lip. “And your point is?”

  “None of that old fire has blazed up between y’all…yet?”

  Caress looked up and caught sight of her reflection. There were a gazillion wrinkles in her clothes from being balled up in the basket after she took them out of the dryer. Her ponytail was as crooked as a politician and she had a zit as big as Mount Everest on her chin—she added acne to her list of side effects from pregnancy. “I don’t how Julius can resist all this,” she said sarcastically.

  When it came to their interactions in the house, it was as if that night at her apartment had never happened. There was nothing remotely sexual between them. Most of their conversation was limited to greetings or general pleas-antries. Most of their time was spent either passing each other in the house or closed off in their own worlds—him in the darkroom or his bedroom and she in the living room or her bedroom.

  Caress barely knew much more about the father of her baby than she did before.

  He listened to jazz music.

  He was a neat freak.

  He liked sports.

  He didn’t have much company.

  He liked to read mystery novels.

  Oh and the one fact she knew from the first night. The man was devastating…absolutely devastating in bed.

  Caress winced just a bit as she thought of this hot little move he did with the tip of his tongue. She shivered at the memory of it on her neck, her nipples, her clit. Caress fanned herself. Yes, his tongue should be licensed to thrill.

  “Uh…earth to Caress.”

  Her eyes darted to the cell phone on the dresser as Tamara’s voice filled the air. She picked it up and left the room in search of her favorite past time. Television. “I’m here, girl,” she said, taking the phone off of speaker.

  “So…no nookie?”

  Caress rolled her eyes heavenward. “Maybe you and Kendrick need a little freakfest because you sure have sex on the brain.”

  “You might be right,” Tamara agreed. “He’s been working a lot of overtime lately.”

  Caress jogged down the stairs and walked into the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of her beloved fruit punch Snapple. “Well, tell Kendrick to stop punching that time card and put in some work at home.”

  “Sounds to me like Julius has got some cleaning up to do around there,” Tamara shot back playfully.

  Caress opened the bottle and took a deep swig of it before she headed back out of the kitchen to the living room, the lone room in the entire house with a television. “Yes, but Julius is not my husband. Hell, he ain’t even my man. Hell, he ain’t even my friend with benefits.”

  “Aww, poor baby,” Tamara teased.

  Caress grabbed the remote from atop the leather ottoman in the center of the spacious masculine-styled room. “Listen, you’re using up my minutes. Call me later,” she said, turning on the flat screen over the fireplace.

  “Let’s go to Mahogany’s Friday night. My treat,” Tamara added softly.

  “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. Caress had her pride and she hated charity, but during her working days she and Tamara had treated each other often. Besides, she could use a night away from the house.

  She closed the phone and set it on the arm of the chair as she used the other hand to flip through the channels.

  She had just settled on a rerun of Run’s House on MTV when she heard the front door open and close. Julius. He was home early. She looked over her shoulder expecting him to peek his head inside the living room, but all she heard was the sound of him jogging up the steps.

  Caress tried to ignore the sting of disappointment she felt.

  Maybe he had a date and just came home to change before he went back out. It had crossed her mind over the last two weeks just how much time he spent away from the house. She knew having an unwanted housemate (who was pregnant with his child) had to be cramping his style.

  Suddenly feeling hungry, Caress threw off the mink throw she had put across her lap and made her way back to the kitchen. She wasn’t sure if it was the baby or the emotional mess that made her crave a snack, but she wasn’t going to deny it. She grabbed a big bowl and heaped it with Rum Raisin ice cream and then added tons of caramel and whipped cream. The very thought of digging into it made her do a little dance. As she slid a big scoop of the cold and creamy delight into her mouth, she did The Wop, an old school dance move.

  A chuckle from behind her made her whirl around in surprise.

  Julius was leaning in the doorway watching her with a huge grin on his face. He looked good in the fitted white sweater he wore with loose-fitting dark denims. The color perfectly emphasized his dark complexion.

  Caress felt a flutter in her chest as she looked at him. “Hey, Julius,” she said.

  “If it’s that good, than I need to try some,” he teased as he strode int
o the kitchen with that cocky, bowlegged swagger of his that only hinted that he was well endowed.

  Caress picked up the bowl from the counter and grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer to offer to him. “It’s good to me, but I’m pregnant and loving pickles wrapped in cheese right now.”

  Julius stood before her and the scent of his cologne surrounding her caused her pulse to race. He accepted the spoon and dug out a heap to slide in his mouth.

  Caress’s mouth opened just a bit at the short flick of his tongue against the base of the spoon as he ate the ice cream. Her heart was beating so fast and hard that she worried he would hear it. “Is it good?” she asked, immediately hating the breathlessness of her tone.

  Julius nodded and looked down at her.

  Caress’s cheeks warmed and she felt a warm tingle start at her toes and explode deep within the walls of her core. She intensely remembered the last time she asked him that very same question. The memory made her shiver.

  She had been sprawled out before him in the middle of the bed, her hands caressing the back of his head as he used his tongue to give her core that first intimate stroke.

  “Is it good?” she had asked him then too.

  Julius’s eyes dropped down to her mouth and Caress licked them nervously. Anxiously. Expectantly.

  It would be so easy to fling the bowl of ice cream to the floor and strip Julius of just enough clothing to taste his nipples while she rode him on the floor.

  But she couldn’t.

  She wouldn’t.

  Caress shifted past him and used her spoon to put another scoop of ice cream in her mouth. It melted like snowflakes against fire. Considering how hot she felt for Julius, she didn’t doubt it. “You’re home earlier than usual,” she said trying to diffuse the chemistry. Ease the ache. Cool the flames.

  Jesus.

  “I finished selecting all of the photos for my book today and decided to give myself and my assistant a much-needed break.”

  Caress smiled genuinely as she looked over at him as he made himself a bowl of ice cream. “Congratulations, Julius.”

  He glanced over at her. “Thanks. I’m really excited about it.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” she said with honesty.

  Julius leaned his hard buttocks against the counter as he ate his ice cream. “Traveling to Africa was really a dream come true for me. I can’t wait to go back.”

  Caress slid onto one of the black leather stools beside the island. “I’ve never been farther than New York. I can’t even imagine what being in Africa would be like.”

  Julius pushed off the counter and swaggered over to stand on the opposite side of the island. “I love to travel. I’ve been to Europe, Asia, all over America. It’s good to see other worlds, other people. It helps to broaden your scope of possibilities for yourself. It lets you know what’s possible. What’s attainable.”

  Caress nodded. “For me right now I just want to attain a job and my own place.”

  Julius set his bowl down on the island. “I’m not rushing you, Caress,” he told her in a serious tone.

  “I know…I’m rushing myself,” she insisted with truth.

  The comfortable mood in the room switched.

  Both of their thoughts were filled with the baby she was carrying. Their addition to the world. Both wished it could have been under different circumstances.

  In the silence, Caress’s stomach grumbled loudly.

  Julius made a face before he flung his handsome head back and laughed. “I don’t think that ice cream is going to do it.”

  Caress chuckled as she stirred the concoction that was beginning to melt. “Me either. I guess the baby is hollering for more.”

  “Why don’t I cook us all something?” Julius offered, reaching across the island for her bowl to carry to the sink along with his.

  “You can cook?” she asked.

  “I’m not G. Garvin or anyone like that but I do all right.”

  Caress smiled, admitting only to herself that it felt good to chill out with Julius. She was enjoying just being in his company. But then that made her acutely aware that feeling comfortable like this around Julius was addictive and not a good idea.

  The night between them was a one-night stand—her first, last, and only. It might have lead to other sensual hook-ups but definitely was not the starting point for a relationship.

  And now they were having a baby together.

  It definitely went against the whole equation of dating then marriage then a family. She was a child of foster care and she learned from Tamara that Julius’s familial background wasn’t much better than hers with a daddy who was MIA and a street-loving mother. If anything, they both should have been the poster children for the whole Huxtable scenario.

  Emotions began to swarm her. Mostly the fear of the unknown.

  Their date had been entertaining. Fun. Needed.

  The sex with Julius had been intense. Gratifying. Satisfying.

  But hindsight is 20/20 and she would gladly… gladly give up that night if she had known she would wind up pregnant.

  Gladly.

  Julius heard Caress get up from the island and he looked briefly away from the grilled cheese sandwiches he was making to watch her leave the kitchen. His forehead furrowed at the downward slope of her shoulders.

  His immediate instinct was to go to her, but did she want his comfort?

  Tonight was the most conversation they shared with each other since their initial meeting upon his return from Africa. He knew it couldn’t be easy for her. He knew she had to be scared. She had to be nervous. She had to be stressed.

  None of it was good for the baby.

  As he finished up the grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed up a large can of vegetable soup, he made a mental note to talk to Tamara.

  Or I could just ask Caress myself.

  Honestly, he was holding back from getting to know her even more because he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. He wasn’t ready to be a family man.

  And he had the distinct feeling that she wanted to make sure he understood that she honestly wasn’t trying to trap him into anything more. She avoided him around the house like the plague. At times he forgot she was here except…

  The laughter that spilled from her as she watched those crazy ass celebreality shows. Really, who cared who Flavor Flav dated?

  Or the sounds of her I’m-a-woman-singer-whose-been-done-wrong-by-men music that she always sang along with off-key.

  Or when he was tripping over random piles of those damn Snapples she was always drinking, or other odd items she left about the house.

  Other than that, the actual woman was pretty scarce whenever he got home.

  Funny, it didn’t stop her from staying constant in his dreams at night.

  Oh, he still wanted Caress with an intensity that scared him. That night—their night—was just as fresh in his memory as if it happened last night. All the while in Africa and even upon his return he awakened at night with dreams of her riding him with her small, but beautiful breasts dangling just above his mouth as he held on for the ride.

  How many nights had he awakened in a sweat with his dick as hard as a brick with the memory of her words still clinging to the air.

  Is it good?

  Tonight when she ask
ed him about the ice cream, her words had sent him spiraling right back to their night. To that moment just before he tasted her. To the taste of her on his tongue. Again. And again. And again. Until he tasted her very liquid essence. Suckled on it. Feasted on it.

  His dick stirred to life between his thighs and there was no denying the ache the memory caused. Shit.

  Julius bit his lip and shook his head as he moved about the kitchen preparing a tray. Even as he carried it out of the kitchen and up the stairs his rod still hung heavy between his strong thighs just waiting for one touch, one look, or one other memory to shoot it straight to full hardness and heat.

  Outside her door, Julius held the tray with one hand and knocked briefly with the other.

  “Come in.”

  Julius didn’t know if he was just a horny toad or what but her permission for him to enter sounded more like “coming” instead of “come in.” He shook off the thought and turned the knob to step in the room.

  Seconds later, he wished he had stayed downstairs and never crossed the threshold into what had to be the secret hideout for clothes. It looked like a dryer threw up in the place. That familiar tension that seemed to be with him lately settled on his shoulders and the back of his neck. He forced a smile and tried to rotate his neck and shoulders to shake it off.

  Caress was lying in the middle of the unmade bed on her back with her knees bent and her arms crossed over her shoulders. She shifted her arm just enough to look over at him with one eye. “Is that for me?” she asked.

  Julius was too busy wondering how on earth anyone could be comfortable in a room where there wasn’t one neat spot to sit. He nodded as he fought the urge to treat her like a teenager who needed to be ordered to straighten her room.

  A vision of his baby sitting and waving atop a pile of clothes in the crib flashed before him.

  In order to reach the bed, he kicked a path in the clothes littering the floor. “Caress, listen, I can’t hold my tongue any longer,” he said, using a hand to make enough room on the bed to set down the tray.