Intimate Seduction - Brenda Jackson [51]
Farrah lifted a brow. “And?”
“And what?”
Farrah rolled her eyes. “What do you mean you were with him? Did the two of you meet up at the Racetrack Café? Did you go out on a date someplace else? Did you—”
“I was at his house. I spent the night.”
The corners of Farrah’s lips curled up in a smile. “By spending the night do you mean you slept in a guest room? Did the two of you sit on the sofa all night watching movies and holding hands? Did the—”
“We slept together,” an annoyed Natalie leaned over and whispered curtly. Farrah liked getting details. “But we didn’t get much sleep for mating like rabbits all night long.” She narrowed her gaze and snapped, “Satisfied?”
A smirk of a grin appeared on Farrah’s face. “Forget about me. Are you satisfied?”
Natalie blinked, not expecting Farrah’s retort. Natalie leaned back in her chair. Relaxed. Settled. Not as sore as she had been that morning. She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I’m satisfied. Extremely. Exceedingly. Enormously. Tre—”
“Cut! I got the picture.”
Natalie knew that Farrah really didn’t. There was no way anyone could get the picture of what had gone on inside Donovan’s bedroom last night, and in a way that was a good thing. The picture would have been erotic, X-rated at best.
“So he was worth all those years of holding out?” Farrah asked.
She nodded. “Every single moment I spent with my head in a book, working on projects and trying hard to forget men existed. Yes, he was worth it.”
Farrah smiled. “Then I’m happy you got the experience. When will you see him again?”
Natalie shook her head. “I might see him again but not that way. What we shared last night was a fling—a one-night fling. It won’t be repeated. That’s what we both agreed.”
Farrah didn’t say anything for a moment and then said. “That might be easier said than done, Nat.”
Natalie was glad the waitress appeared at that moment to take their order or she would have been forced to admit Farrah was right.
Donovan pulled his damp T-shirt over his head and tossed it in the dirty-clothes hamper. Today the basketball game between him and his brothers had been brutal. Evidently there had been a lot of frustrations to unleash. Still, he felt good. Not that he’d had to work off much masculine energy since he’d done so last night.
He left the laundry room and walked into the kitchen where he immediately headed for the refrigerator and opened it up. He pulled the beer from the six-pack Uri had left a few weeks ago, popped the tab and then took a long pleasurable gulp.
A satisfied smile touched his moist lips, which he wiped with the back of his hand. Life couldn’t be better. Then he glanced around the kitchen and thought that life couldn’t be lonelier.
He frowned, wondering where in the hell that thought had come from. A lonely Steele? How could that be when he had brothers and cousins living in the same city? And he could always catch a flight to Phoenix, Chicago, Miami or Boston and visit his relatives there.
He went over to the window and glanced out. What would it be like to come home to a house he shared with someone? Not just someone, but the woman with whom he’d spent the night in bed. Could he even imagine building a life with one woman, building a family and having children, building his own dynasty like his brothers were doing?
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see they were happy, had eased into the roles of husbands and family men without a hitch. He’d always figured he was different, didn’t want the things they did and totally enjoyed his freedom. So why was he even considering otherwise?
He took another gulp of beer, emptying the can. Moving away from the window, he placed the empty can on the counter. He’d promised Bron and the guys that he would drop by the café tonight since he hadn’t shown up last night, as was the norm. But he had no regrets. Last night he was here in bed with a woman that still had his heart pounding each time he thought about how his body had plummeted into multiple orgasms while inside of her.
Natalie had shown him, proven beyond a shadow