Eternally Yours - Brenda Jackson [43]
Taking a deep breath, she entered her bedroom. For the first time, it felt lonely to her. The bed was neatly made and looked nothing like the untidy and much-used bed it had been during Clayton’s visit.
Syneda felt her resolve wavering as she sat on her bed. For a smart woman, she was completely stupid about sex. She had felt so savvy when she had entered the drugstore during lunch on Friday for her condom purchase. Determined to be on the safe side, she had purchased three packs of condoms, one for each day of Clayton’s visit.
It was a good thing he was an expert at practicing safe sex because not only had she not purchased enough of the darn things, she had not given thought to using them until Clayton had discreetly pulled out his own foil packet before they’d made love; not only that first time, but every single time.
She couldn’t help but appreciate his care and concern for her welfare. He never made a big production out of using them, nor had he tried to analyze her reaction. It did, however, make her feel comfortable to know he was a man who believed in a simple, direct approach to being careful, and who took the thought of AIDS or an unwanted pregnancy seriously. The last thing she needed was to have a child out of wedlock from a man who didn’t love her, the way her mother had done. She and Clayton had made love enough times for that to happen, had it not been for him taking the necessary precautions.
Thoughts of him and their lovemaking suddenly made her feel as if her skin was on fire. Never would she have thought she would have spent the better part of a weekend making love to a man she considered a friend, at times an adversary, and at others a mentor. A man who was also a freewheeling bachelor, a sexual predator, a man who never made promises or hinted at the possibility of never-ending devotion and fidelity.
She didn’t want to kid herself; Clayton was smooth and experienced. He was a man she could lose her heart to and get hurt if she was not careful. More than anything, she must not get love confused with great sex. She must not forget her own rules.
With that thought firmly embedded in her mind, Syneda’s resolve became a little stronger than before.
“Ms. Walters, you have a call from a Mr. Clayton Madaris.”
Syneda bit her lower lip. She had been expecting Clayton’s call. Evidently he had received the package she had sent to him. “Thanks, Joanna, I’ll take it.”
A few minutes later the connection was made. “Clayton?”
“Yes, Syneda. Thanks for the card, but no thanks for returning the shirt. I wanted you to return it in person,” he said disappointedly.
Syneda smiled as she put her paperwork aside. Evidently he wasn’t used to women not following his requests. “You can’t always have what you want, Clayton. Thanks again for the flowers. You really shouldn’t have.”
“I couldn’t help myself.” What he had just said was the truth, Clayton thought. Upon arriving at the airport he had gone into a florist shop and ordered the flowers be delivered to her first thing Monday morning. There had not been one particular arrangement that had suited him, so he had ended up ordering several. Although he was disappointed that she had not personally returned the shirt, at least she had not returned the spare key to his apartment with the shirt.
Clayton couldn’t help being plagued with vivid memories of her wearing nothing but his shirt. Never could he remember wanting a woman so much. The incredible hunger he had for her suddenly made his body go taut. He had to make love to her again and soon.
“I want to see you, Syneda. This weekend,” he said huskily.
Syneda took a deep breath. “I’ve told you, I’ll be busy.”
“What about next weekend?”
“I’ll still be busy.”
“We need to talk, Syneda.”
“No.”
“Yes. Just what are you afraid