Page 4 of Dangerous Bonds (Dangerous Bonds 1)

When she reached the table, she must have said something about me. Her friend looked directly at me while asking, "Who, him?"

She slapped her blond friend's arm and they both pretended not to be interested in me. I kept catching one or the other glance over at me when they thought I wasn't looking.

When my future woman got up and headed towards the restroom, I took this as my opportunity. I caught up with her right before she reached the door of the restroom. I stepped in front of her, blocking her path and wearing my charming grin.

Her face would tell me everything I needed to know. If she seemed irritated, I didn't stand a chance. Instead, her lips pursed into a smile. She liked me. All I had to do was not saying anything stupid and I'd probably be able to get her number.

"Hi, I'm Channing. What's your name?"

"Kemara."

"Kemara." I tested the name on my lips, and I liked it. "That's a lovely name."

"Thank you. Channing isn't bad either."

She was so cute, I wanted to lean in and kiss her then and there, but that would definitely screw up any momentum I had. So, I only fantasized about her thick ruby lips against mine as I asked, "So, I was just thinking maybe we could hang some time. Think I could get your number?"

When she opened her purse, I thought she was looking for a pen, business card, even her cell, but instead she pulled out her lipstick. My arm was against the wall, because I had used it to block her path. She used her lipstick to write her number on my extended arm.

"I could have just put it in my cell." I pointed out.

"True. But this way you'll call me before your next shower." She stepped around me and dipped into the bathroom before I could say anything else.

I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. Phenomenal. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms more than I'd ever wanted any woman in my life, after her lipstick stunt, and I was determined to make it happen.

I paid my tab and headed out. When I got to my car, I saved her number in my phone in case it smudged on my arm. I'd gone through too much to get it to be taken down by a t-shirt.

I headed back to work. Me and two other guys, Tony and Dave, were laying the foundation for a house. I'd barely gotten out the car before Tony pointed to my arm. "How? You've been gone forty minutes. Do women climb over each other to give you pussy?"

I chuckled. My workers had decided I was some sort of Romeo, and I wasn’t inclined to correct them. While I won't lie, I got a lot of female attention. I was also incredibly picky, which meant I was getting a lot less pussy than they were imagining.

"We'd seen each other before, and I asked for her number. That's all. She didn't do me in the parking lot or anything like that," I said.

Dave jabbed Tony in the side as he walked past carrying a bucket of premixed cement. "Might not have ridden his dick at lunch, but I bet he'll have her on her hands and knees before midnight."

That time, I didn't smile. I didn't like the way they were talking about Kemara, even though they knew nothing about her. To them, she was just some hypothetical bimbo who wrote her number on my arm. If they'd met her, even for one second, they wouldn't talk about her that way. One of the very first things I noticed about her was how damn classy she was.

But the guys didn't know, and if I tried to explain they'd just chalk it up to me being pussy whipped. I just directed the conversation to our heavy load of work and soon enough, they'd forgotten all about The Lipstick Lady.

We worked for the rest of the day putting down the foundation for the site. By the time I got home, I was dirty and exhausted. I just wanted to hop in the shower and chill. Then, I remembered what she said. I looked at my arm and pulled out my cell.

Chapter Five

Kemara

When I got home from work, I threw my purse down on the plush sofa and checked my cell to see if I had a missing call. In the ten minutes it took me to drive home from work, no one had called me. I stretched and headed into the bedroom. Pulling off my dress suit and slipping into a nightgown felt great. I was so wound up. I needed to relax. I checked my phone again, noting only five minutes had passed since I last looked. What was wrong with me? I was like a girl in high school. I was far too old to be carrying on like this. If he called, he called, if he didn't, he didn't and that was the end of it.

To distract myself, I grabbed a book and curled up on the couch. I couldn't make it a sentence before my mind started to wander. He reminded me of a pro wrestler with memorable, gorgeous eyes and a strong jawline that gave way to a sexy grin. What did he do for a living? Judging from his soiled clothes, good-looking tan and the bulge of his biceps, he probably worked outside. Something with a lot of heavy lifting.

I bit my bottom lip and my legs crossed as I thought about him. What if he wasn't interested? What if he just wanted to see if he could get my number? I was a black girl, and he did hang out with some questionable white supremacy looking characters at a gas stop straight out of a 1960s movie about Alabama segregation.

I shook my head and tried to focus on my novel. Too many thoughts. I was always overthinking, and this was such a silly thing to worry about. I was several pages into the book before I realized I'd picked up a romance novel. I sighed as I read about a maiden with a heaving bosom in the hands of a pirate and tried not to picture Channing and me in those roles.

When the phone started to buzz, I leapt up off the couch. So determined to block the possibility of a call from my thoughts, I wasn't ready when it happened.

I took a deep breath and cleared my throat before answering, "Hello."

"Hey Kemara, it's me Channing." His voice was smooth and deep like liquid sex.

---