Page 9 of Crossing Lines

“My bad, baby. That’s great news.” He closes the distance and wraps his arms around me, kissing my temple. “I feel even worse about canceling dinner. I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” I ask with a long exhale.

Gliding over my dress, he groans while rubbing his crotch in the jeans. “You look so good. I bet losers were hitting on you all night.”

He’d be livid if he learned I spent most of the night talking to Kross. “Tried and failed.”

A sudden breath rushes out as he tugs me against him. “Only wear this for me. Don’t wear it otherwise.”

I hiss and writhe away. “Policing how I dress now?”

“Baby, I’m kidding.” He crushes my mouth with a passionate kiss that settles me. As it slows to an end, he growls, “Let me take care of you.” Pulling me into my bedroom, he removes my clothes, lays me down, and massages me between my legs. “You’re already wet.”

“Mmm.” His tongue on my nipple makes me squirm. He pleases the sensitive buds, then licks a path down my stomach. “Shit!” I cry out as he buries his face in my middle, devouring me like a beast.

“I love my wet pussy,” he rumbles in between eating me. “You want me badly, huh?”

“Yes,” leaves my mouth in a strained whisper. I was in heat from being enraptured by Kross for hours. The truth burns my body with shame while my man pleasures me to an orgasm.

Movement drags me out of sleep to the sunny morning. I roll over, expecting another round with Jamir to start the day. Disappointment floods me when I see he’s putting on his clothes. “You’re leaving?”

He sighs. “Heading to the office.”

“No,” I groan. “Don’t you want to lie here and—”

“I already gave you some last night. That’s enough. Don’t have anything left in the tank.”

“Damn, Jamir. It’s Saturday. You said we’d spend the day together.”

“Quit whining,” he reproaches, seeming frustrated.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child.”

Releasing a sharp breath, he finishes fastening his gold Rolex and sits on the bed, guilt in his auburn eyes as he strokes my cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m just exhausted. I need you to be patient with me, please.”

“I understand,” I cave in a softer tone. “Want to see my finished designs before you go?”

“You know I’m not into that fashion stuff.” He takes five twenty-dollar bills from his wallet. “Breakfast is on me. We’ll have dinner tonight.” Kissing me, he places the money on the nightstand and grabs his phone. “See you later.”

“Okay.” I watch him leave my bedroom, hearing the apartment door shortly.

A sinking feeling lowers my head back on the pillow. It doesn’t feel right between us. Not anymore.

Pilates has Trishell and me walking slower after antagonizing our muscles so much. I’m sure we’ll feel it worse tomorrow.

Entering the café next door, we order sandwiches and green juices for breakfast.

“So how was last night, girl?” she questions when we sit at a table. “Did Jamir spoil you?”

I sip some juice before saying, “He canceled, so I went to a nightclub. Found him waiting in the apartment when I came home.”

“Huh?” Confusion masks her freckled, medium-brown face. “Like he was trying to catch you?”

“It did seem creepy, but he said he wanted to surprise me.”

“Hm.” She takes another bite. “He must have pissed you off for you to go out alone.”

“He did. Jamir keeps pushing me to the back burner. He says he’s trying to land a major client, and things are hectic, but it’s affecting our relationship.”

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