Читать книгу Sinful Chocolate - Adrianne Byrd - Страница 11

Charlie woke up early Sunday morning the same way he woke up every Sunday morning: completely satisfied and with a curvaceous beauty at his side. What was the girl’s name again—Marcia, Jan or Cindy? Maybe he was thinking of The Brady Bunch. Blair, Jo, Tootie—no, that was the Facts of Life.

The woman moaned softly as she turned and wiggled her rump against his hip—a silent invitation and a coy way of letting him know that she was no longer asleep. Hard and ready, he was more than willing to RSVP her invite when the phone rang.

Mentally, he wrestled with whether he should answer, but then relented when his gaze read the digital clock. Groaning, he snatched up the phone. “I’m up, Taariq.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re late,” he said, irritation dripping through the phone line. “It’s bad enough you dissed us at the party last night for that Beyoncé wannabe. By the way, how was she?”

Charlie glanced out of the corner of his eyes to skim over the woman’s voluptuous form imprinted beneath the silk sheets. “A gentleman never tells.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re one lucky S.O.B? You eased up on her two seconds before I did.”

“You snooze, you lose.” He smiled and sat up. “Give me about an hour, and I’ll be right over.”

“One hour.” Taariq huffed. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

“Whatever.” Charlie hung up and turned his attention back to—Penny? No, that was Good Times. Well, when in doubt, he relied on his favorite pet name. “Hey, baby girl.” He eased a hand beneath the sheet and caressed her soft skin. “I really hate to have to do this, but I, um, I’m afraid it’s time to get up.”

She emitted another soft moan, but then gracefully rolled over to her side to face him. Big, beautiful cat-shaped eyes fluttered open to reveal an intriguing shade of gray.

“Do we really have to get up?” she inquired, curling the corners of her full lips.

Charlie stared at the nymph in his bed as though it was the first time he’d seen her. Her face was devoid of makeup except the slightest hint of red lipstick. She was stunning. “Denise,” he murmured.

“You remembered. I’m impressed.”

“How could I ever forget? Denise just like in The Cosby Show,” Charlie covered smoothly.

“Do you always try to do name associations with TV shows?”

Charlie blinked. “Not always.”

“Then I guess the rumors are false.”

“Rumors?”

Denise’s tinted lips widened across her face. “C’mon. You have to know you’re a man with quite a reputation.” Her eyes traveled down his chest and settled on his erection. “Not all of it bad.”

Charlie’s ego inflated. “Glad to hear it.”

Something stirred at the foot of the bed and since Charlie didn’t have any animals, he jumped, but then quickly relaxed when the covers lifted and Samantha’s—like in Sex and the City—tussled head peeked out. “Are you sure it’s time to get out of bed?”

Charlie’s smile slid wider. “Did you two have something else in mind?”

“As a matter of fact—” the beauty tossed the sheet back from her body to give him a clear view of what she was offering “—I have a few things in mind.”

His erection throbbed and robbed him of sufficient oxygen for him to think clearly. At last a smile rolled across his lips. “To hell with Taariq.”

“You let her meet Charlie Masters?” Nicole, Anna’s busybody best friend roared incredulously. She pretended to rub wax out of her ears. “Please tell me I’m hearing things.”

A bored and sleep-intoxicated Anna struggled to rake her fingers through her frizzy hair before turning her attention to her large mug of coffee. “Gisella is a grown woman and more than capable of keeping her legs closed.”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “No woman can think straight when Charlie is on the prowl. How many times have I told you girls that?” She glanced around the four-member Lonely Hearts Club.

“At least a million,” Anna droned.

“Exactly.” Nicole crossed her arms and glared at her best friend. “I knew this was going to happen. I swear Charlie has like this radar whenever a beautiful new woman moves into this city. Hell, I’m surprised it took him nine months to find her.”

The other women snickered at the joke, which only encouraged Nicole to stay perched atop her soapbox. “Wake up, Anna, your sister is exactly Charlie’s type, and he’ll be all over her like white on rice.”

Jade, one of the founding members of the group frowned. “What’s Charlie’s type?”

“Anything with breasts and a pulse,” Nicole shot back.

“Damn. I better hide Sasha, too.” Anna bent down and picked up her orange-and-yellow tabby cat that kept mewing at her ankles.

“She’s telling the truth,” said Emmadonna, a plus-size beauty with a mountainous chip on her shoulder, nodding in agreement. “I met the famous dog at a club a couple of years back, thinking I was safe since he spent half the night dancing with the same old anorexic-looking chicks until he brushed up on me.”

“Ooh?” the other women chorused.

“Next thing I know, he was all up in my ear, saying only a dog wants to play with some bones.”

The women laughed.

“Girl, I played it cool for about two minutes before I jumped him and showed him how us big girls worked it out. Nahwhatimean?” She held up her hands and received a train of high fives while the room filled with new squeals of laughter.

“If you didn’t see the devil horns and tail then you weren’t looking hard enough,” Nicole said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, I was looking, all right,” Emmadonna said. “All I saw was a tall brother with money, class, sophistication…and if I’m not mistaken, a dash of thug in him. Every girl needs a little thug in their lives.”

“That man has a trail of broken hearts that stretches halfway around the globe.” Nicole’s hands settled on her thick hips. “Charlie’s a diehard playa, and any woman who thinks she can change him, which is every woman he’s ever come in contact with, is just kidding herself.”

“Including you,” Jade said, easing back into the leather couch with a knowing smile.

“Yes, including me.” Nicole squared her shoulders. “Of course, I never became a notch on his bedpost. I had a little more sense than that.”

Anna rolled her eyes and yawned. “Anyone want some more coffee?” She shuffled toward the kitchen. “If I have to wake up, I might as well do it the right way.”

“I could’ve slept with him if I wanted,” Nicole said to Anna’s back.

“I hope you like Folgers.”

“Ignore if you want, but back in college I was considered a fine catch myself,” Nicole reminded her.

“Of course, I think we might have some Taster’s Choice in here,” Anna kept on, unfazed.

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Folgers is fine.”

Anna rustled through the cabinets for a few minutes and then fumbled with the coffeemaker. All this talk about Charlie was hitting a little too close for home. She had her own history with the infamous playa and she’d rather just forget the whole incident. She certainly didn’t want to talk about it.

Nicole glanced down at her watch. “It’s noon. I bet you anything, Charlie is lying next to some chick right now trying to figure out the best way to get her out of there.”

“Okay, now you’re creepin’ me out.” Anna hit the Brew button. “You know just a little too much about the man’s modus operandi.”

“All playas have the same M.O. Hit and run.”

“I still say Gisella is smarter than that. She was just hired to make the man’s cake. She’s hardly looking to leap back into another relationship after what her ex just put her through.”

“Charlie doesn’t do relationships.”

“And Gisella doesn’t believe in one-night stands.”

Emmadonna, with supersonic ears for all things gossip, cackled from the living room. “Girl, please. Every woman has had at least one.”

Anna and Nicole rejoined the women in the living room.

“I say,” Nicole continued, “the only way a woman can avoid getting caught up in Charlie Masters’s dog trap is to run the other way when you see him strolling down the sidewalk.”

“Amen” circled around the room along with another series of high fives before the women burst out laughing.

Curious about the commotion in the apartment, Gisella finished dressing and joined her sister’s friends in the living room. “What’s so funny?”

The minute she walked into the room, all the laughter was suddenly sucked out of the air and everyone began straightening and fidgeting in their seats.

Gisella cast her gaze around the room as suspicion crept up her spine. “Parlez-vous de moi?”

Anna shooed Sasha off her lap and stood up. “Don’t be silly, Gisella,” she said, shuffling over and draping her arm around her shoulders. “We weren’t talking about you—exactly.”

“No, we were talking about your birthday boy last night,” Nicole said, piping up.

Gisella’s face flushed. Had her sister heard her in her room last night? Oh, Lord, hadn’t she called out his name a few times?

Nicole pointed. “Look at her face. Something did happen last night.”

Anna’s arm fell from Gisella’s shoulders. “You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Gisella asked, thoroughly confused.

“Sleep with the enemy,” Anna said. “Charlie Masters is the biggest man-whore in Atlanta.”

“And that’s putting it nicely,” Nicole agreed.

Gisella groaned before she could stop herself. Didn’t these girls ever give it a rest? Men were not the enemy. “Relax,” she huffed. “Nothing happened. I went to network, remember?”

Unconvinced, Nicole planted her hands on her hips. “Did you meet the birthday boy?”

Four sets of eyes locked onto Gisella and waited.

“I met him.” Gisella shrugged. “He said he loved the cake, and then I took off.”

Anna smiled as her arm magically reappeared around her shoulder. “See? I told you she knew how to handle herself.”

Ivy, the petite and soft-spoken member of their group, voiced her suspicions. “You mean Charlie didn’t even try to hit on you?”

Gisella shook her head, even though the memory of their light flirting replayed in her head. “Nope.”

“Damn.” Emmadonna chuckled and eased back into her seat. “We really are living in the last days.”