Silken Embrace. Zuri Day

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Silken Embrace - Zuri  Day Mills & Boon Kimani

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matter what, Tee, you’ll always be city. I need to run. Tell Atka I said what’s up.”

      “Will do.”

      Aliyah signed out of her FaceTime account, happy that she’d been able to see and speak to her whole family. These days, finding her parents and four siblings all home at the same time was rare. It made her miss New York, but it also allowed her to see that all of her hard work was paying off. She hadn’t gone to college and blazed a trail of success just for herself. She’d done it so that the four hardheads looking up to her—three brothers and one sister, all younger—could have a clear example of how to avoid life’s pitfalls and go for one’s dreams. The two oldest brothers were excelling in college. The younger brother and sister still made her nervous, entranced by the smoke and mirrors of quick money and instant success. Gangs constantly courted her six-foot-plus brother. Pretty-boy tough guys wanted to date her gorgeous sixteen-year-old sister. Avoiding neighborhood temptations was hard. But so far, they’d succeeded.

      After a final check on Kyle, Aliyah turned out the lights and climbed into a bed that suddenly felt too big and too empty. She’d stayed busy on purpose, had filled her entire day with one project or event after another. All to keep her mind occupied and not think of Terrell. But now, with the house quiet, and her lying down, images and memories of San Francisco assailed her. She couldn’t ignore them as she’d done to Terrell’s earlier phone call. Thinking of the message he’d left made her tingle and smile at the same time. It was simple. Three words. They’d thrummed like a mantra in her head all day.

       I want more.

      She did, too. And she planned to get it, as much as she could. Hands down, he was the best she’d ever even dreamed about having. If he were a drug, she’d need rehab. Already. After just a few days. So she needed to find a way to assuage her appetite while guarding her heart. She wasn’t looking for commitment. If she were, someone like Terrell Drake would not be a likely candidate. It’s why she’d never considered a serious relationship with her childhood friend, turned lover. He was tall, handsome and virile, with enough charisma to fill the Atlantic—characteristics that were great for a good time and a roll in the hay. Not the best for a committed relationship. She never worried about Ernest. Turned out he was an arrogant, superficial, self-centered a-hole. But as far as she knew, he was faithful. Even jerks could have one good trait.

      She changed positions, fluffed her pillow and settled down in search of sleep. As it came, the mantra continued.

       I want more.

      The next morning, Aliyah’s phone rang at 7:00 a.m. Given her family lived on the east coast, this was not an unusual occurrence. She reached over, eyes still closed, and answered.

      “Hello?”

      “Good morning, Ms. Robinson.”

      Her eyes flew open. “Terrell?”

      “I wish I could say I’m sorry for waking you up, but what I really feel bad about is that I’m not there with you.”

      “You’re such a playboy,” she said with a chuckle, rolling over and getting out of bed. She left the room in search of tea.

      “Is that what I am?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “What makes you say that?”

      “Where do I start? It could be that woman-magnet sports car you drive. Or the daggers shot at me by every woman who saw us together in the Cove Café. Or better yet, what about the woman who invited herself to our table?”

      “Hey...”

      “No, wait, I’m not done. Let’s not leave out the lover’s lair you own in San Francisco and perhaps in other major cities as well. Lastly, add a handsome face, a killer bod and skills in the bedroom and you have all the attributes of the perfect player.”

      A pause and then, “Are you done now?”

      “Yes, I believe so.”

      “Good. Because your reasoning is skewed.”

      “How so?”

      “Just because a man takes care of himself and has nice things doesn’t mean he’s a playboy. As for what happened in the café, that’s just small-town nosiness and Cindy being Cindy.

      “Yours was a new, unrecognized face in a town where everyone knows everybody, and everyone wants to know my business. Your being with me made you my business. I’m sure the grapevine is still buzzing with questions about who you are.”

      “Hmm.”

      “And for the record, the house in San Francisco is not my lair. It is a family property. We all stay there when in town, as do some of our friends and colleagues. However, I do not apologize for being particularly fond of the opposite sex, and especially interested in the one I’m talking to right now, the one who didn’t return my call from yesterday.”

      “Terrell, it’s early in the morning. You hardly gave me a chance.”

      “Whenever you see my number on the screen, you are to call me back immediately.”

      “Oh, is that so?”

      “Yes, it is.”

      “Or what?”

      “Or I’m going to come over and spank you just right, and love you ’til you holler and throw up both your hands.”

      She laughed. “Don’t you have to be at work or something?”

      “I’m already here. What about you? Are your hours as erratic as I hear they can be for medical doctors?”

      “Right now, even more so. Tuesday through Thursday I’m in residency at UC Davis Medical Center, then I intern at a local hospital, Living Medical, on Monday and Friday. And there’s still studying to do on top of all that. Which is why this past weekend was so appreciated.”

      “Wow. No wonder you’re not interested in a relationship. You don’t have time for one.”

      “Exactly.”

      “Well, guess what?”

      “What?”

      “You need to make some time for yours truly. I need to finish what I started in San Francisco.”

      “Which was?”

      “Satisfying you.”

      “Oh, trust me, you did that.”

      “Baby, that was just the appetizer. I want the whole meal.”

      “Well, unless you’re up for a midnight rendezvous in a hotel near the hospital, your dining will to have to wait.”

      “Until when?”

      “Um...next Sunday?”

      “All

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