Wrapped In Pleasure - Brenda Jackson [85]
He laughed. “I’m whatever age you want me to be. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
She smiled. “You’re not curious as to my age?”
“Not enough to ask. In this country a man knows better.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “So I heard.”
When the elevator came to a stop and the door opened, he took her hand as they stepped out into the hall. He turned to her. “So, will you meet me for breakfast in the morning around nine? There is a nice café on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Park. I will send my car for you. And then after breakfast we can start our day.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip for a few moments. She didn’t want him to send his car for her because she was not ready to let him know where she was staying. Succumbing to the desire to see him again, spend time with him, she nodded. “Yes, but I will take a cab and meet you there. And please don’t mention anything in front of Cel. She would worry.”
He gave her a satisfied smile. “I promise not to say a word.”
Relief rippled through her. She didn’t want Cel to not enjoy her cruise for agonizing over Johari’s safety. “There is another promise I’d like you to make if we are to spend tomorrow together.”
“What promise is that?”
“You will remember that I have a fiancé.”
A smile touched his lips. “Although I wish I could forget, I promise that I will not.”
Two hours later Rasheed was back in his condo and reliving in his mind all that had transpired that night. He and Johari had returned to the club to find it was still in full swing.
Cel had eyed him suspiciously but hadn’t asked either of them any questions. And less than an hour later, she and Johari had thanked him for such a wonderful time but felt it was time for them to leave. He had offered to let his driver take them to their hotel, but they had declined. He had, however, made sure they had gotten safely in a cab. Once the yellow taxi had pulled away from the curb he had nodded to the driver in the dark-colored car who’d automatically followed close behind.
Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, he walked outside on the balcony, the same one Johari had danced on earlier. Moving closer to the very spot where she’d stood, where she had danced, he glanced around. He could still feel her presence as well as the heat she had left behind. Then there was her lingering scent. It was her scent that was gripping him, inside and out, making him remember how sexy she had looked in that dress and how well the material had fit her curves. And it was that dress, her scent, along with the memory of her taste that had him looking forward to seeing her in the morning.
Her taste.
It was as if his tongue had known her. Had been waiting. Had gotten possessive. And had greedily taken. He considered himself a very skillful kisser, but the first taste of her had nearly snatched his senses, rendered him mindless. And when she had touched her tongue to his, not sure if it was the proper thing to do, exposing her lack of experience, he’d been fascinated beyond belief in knowing that had been her first kiss.
And when he’d angled his head and deepened the kiss, every bone in his body shared in the pleasurable experience. And not once did she resist. She had returned the kiss, as best she knew how, and instead of boring him, her inexperience plunged him into a world filled with so much passion and pleasure, the concept of her being able to accomplish such a feat was still wearing on his brain.
He drew in a calming breath when he thought of the phone call he’d received moments ago to say that Johari and Cel had arrived at their destination safely.
Turning, he walked back inside the condo. It was late and time for him to take a shower and go to bed. Things had been rather