Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1) Page 4

Big South was a documented womanizer who’d made misogynistic music and disrespected a woman in my presence. Hell, he’d even made assumptions about me! Yes, he apologized for it, but that still didn’t explain why on Earth I let him kiss me, kissed him back, and was so completely and utterly turned on by him that I was sitting in my home overheating. Maybe I did need to find me a man so I could stop lusting after him. One thing was for sure: I needed to do something to get myself together.

  I had to fly to NYC for some meetings after the movie premiere and was supposed to head to Houston, my hometown and the only place where I owned a home, afterwards. Instead, I headed back to LA, thinking I’d figured out a way to see Jo again.

  Yeah, she was still on my mind.

  I was standing at the window in VIP that night when I saw her—or actually, her hair—moving through the crowd. At first, I wasn’t sure it was her. I mean, yeah, her hair was unique—never seen hair so big and full and bouncy and soft-looking before—but I still watched her for ten or fifteen minutes before I was sure.

  The original plan was for me to contact Phil, the screenwriter I’d been knowing since back in the day, and kick it with him and his people that night, but after I saw her sexy ass in that tight little dress, my plans changed. I sent that butler dude for her, told him not to tell her or anyone else who was sending for her, and it took him so long, I thought her mean ass had refused to come up there. So I hit the toilet and was surprised and happy as hell when Dunn told me she was in the room. She looked so good up close, I kind of lost it in my head. The only thing that bothered me was that her makeup covered those freckles, but she still looked beautiful in the way that only she could. I found it hard not to touch her, which was crazy because I didn’t even know her. And when I kissed her? I felt some shit I’d never felt before when I tasted those big, juicy lips of hers. Had those freckles been showing, my ass might’ve really lost it up in there right in front of Tommy and her friend. Those freckles turned me the hell on for real.

  Anyway, on the flight back out to LA, I came up with a solid plan of how I’d get to see her again. As soon as we landed, I headed to my penthouse suite at Le Larousse to get the ball rolling. I always stayed in that suite when I was in LA since Esther got the house I once owned there in the divorce and that whole shitty mess made me not ever want to buy a house in LA again. The penthouse suite was expensive, but I never stayed long in the past. If something popped off with Jo, I’d have to rethink things, maybe get a little condo or something.

  Damn, I was planning a future that involved a woman who openly talked shit about me to my face and turned me all the way on while doing it. I hadn’t had the desire to do more than screw a woman in a long time, but Jo? For some unknown reason, I believed I could build something with her. And for the first time in a long time, that was what I wanted, to build something. Something real. And I wanted it with her. And as mean as she was, I could tell from the way she always looked at me and from what I felt from her when I kissed her that she was down for the same thing.

  Or at least I hoped she was.

  6

  I couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Was more confused than ever as I handed the valet my keys and stepped out of my car. This was what I’d been waiting for, training for, hoping for, but not like…this.

  Wednesday morning, after I thought I had finally obsessed Big South out of my system and convinced myself that I’d imagined the whole club thing despite Bridgette circumventing me ignoring her phone calls and texting me about it like I was in a relationship with the man or something, Peter Park called me to his office to inform me that I was to meet with a client to discuss a new commission. My first emotion was elation. Me? Park was finally trusting me to discuss a piece with a client? He said I had free reign to conceptualize the piece, sketch out examples, and even create it. I would receive a portion of the total fee for it, too. I thanked him profusely for giving me the chance, for believing in me, to which he scoffed, “Oh, I never would have let you loose on your own so soon. You were requested.”

  Deep grooves formed in my forehead. “By who?”

  “Big South, so don’t mess this up.”

  As I walked through the hotel lobby to the elevator, my feet felt like lead. What did this man want with me, from me? Again, I hoped he wasn’t summoning my ass to his suite expecting me to drop my panties for him. That was not happening. Ever. And I had a mind to curse him out for kissing me.

  But you kissed him back.

  And you liked it.

  And you know you want to have sex with him.

  As I stepped off the elevator, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore that stupid inner voice. Approaching the door, I took a deep breath and knocked. Dunn’s ever-smirking ass opened it for me, swept his arm inside, and licked his lips somewhat seductively. “Nice to see you again,” he said, amusement in his voice.

  I rolled my eyes, stepped into the massive, but familiar, living area of the suite, and almost leaped out of my skin at the sight of Big South sitting on the sofa, his long legs stretched out before him. I don’t know what I expected, for him to be in the bedroom or something?

  And this motherfucker was wearing gray jogging pants.

  Shit.

  He looked like he always looked—good, good as hell—and because of that, the memories of him kissing me instantly sprinted to the forefront of my mind. All I could do was stand there. When the door slammed shut behind me, my ass jerked around to look at it like I didn’t know a door could close. I was jittery as hell.

  “Have a seat,” he said, making me snatch my head back around to face him.

  My eyes scanned the room and settled on an accent chair a couple of feet away from me. I plopped down in it and crossed my legs at my ankles, my eyes skimming the room again before settling on his face.

  He smiled, exposing his big, straight teeth. Shit, even they were sexy. “Glad to see you again.”

  “Apparently, both you and Dunn,” I mumbled.

  “Come again?”

  Since I was sure he really hadn’t heard me, I said, “Don’t have a choice but to be here if I want to keep my job.”

  “Been thinking about you,” he replied, disregarding my statement.

  “Obviously.”

  He chuckled. “You been thinking about me?”

  Incessantly. “Nope.”

  “Aw, now. You mean to tell me I didn’t make any type of impression on you at the party?” He cocked his head to the side and licked his lips. “At all?”

  I uncrossed and re-crossed my ankles, ran my hand over my lap, glanced down at my tribal print maxi dress, then back up at him. “Uh...how did you know I was apprenticing under Peter Park?”

  “I asked him what you did there the day I dropped by to invite him to the party you missed. He told me,” he said.

  “That’s gotta be a privacy violation or something…” I mumbled.

  Ignoring me, he mused, “I’m just wondering how long you been working there and how it is that I’ve never seen you there before. I been dealing with Park for years.”

  “I was probably busy not being his side piece when you came by there.”

  He chuckled again. “You a trip, you know that?”

  This time, I ignored his statement and informed him, “I’ve never designed or created a piece before. He’s never let me. You sure you want me to do this?”

  “Positive.”

  I blew out a breath. “Okay—”

  There was a light knock at the suite’s door, and Big South said, “Hold up a second.” Then he shouted, “Yeah, come in!”

  The door opened and a woman in a short, excruciatingly tight pencil skirt and matching crop top entered the room looking uncertain.

  Big South stood and beckoned her to him. I frowned, wondering what the hell this was. What was he trying to pull? Some ambush threesome? Well, he had me all the way fuc—

  “Sheena, right?” he asked the woman.

  She nodded, her eyes roving from him to
me, and back.

  “Jo, this is Sheena. I had my folks comb through every picture and IG post from the party I met her at the night before I first met you when you delivered my daughter’s necklace. Evidently, she’s the woman who left with me and ended up here. The shit’s a blur because to be honest. I got halfway fucked up that night. I don’t do that often—get fucked up, I mean—but I was celebrating a new business venture. But anyway, here she is.” He turned to the woman. “Sheena, I owe you an apology. While you were sleep, I allowed Jo here and her bodyguard to come into the room and they saw you in my bed naked. It was disrespectful of me to do that to you. I’m sorry.”

  “O-okay?” Sheena said. “I mean, it’s all good.”

  I eyed him and her, then said, “How do I even know if that’s the right woman?”

  His eyes widened as if he wasn’t expecting for me to say what I said. Then he looked at her, leaned in and whispered something, and she turned around in response.

  Yeah, it was her. Even in clothes, her ass was easily identifiable.

  I shifted my eyes from her badonkadonk and rolled them at Big South.

  He softly said something else to her and she left. A second later, he reclaimed his seat.

  “You have to pay her to come here?” I asked.

  He nodded. “And my lawyers had her sign some non-disclosure thing in case she decides to try to sue me or something.”

  My eyes were in my lap. “Why go to all that trouble?”

  “Because, like I said before, you were right.”

  “You didn’t have to do it in front of me, though.”

  “I wanted to, to show you I’m not as much of a jerk as your hostile ass thinks I am, because despite your attitude, I like you. A lot.”

  I fought not to roll my eyes again. “That necklace I brought was for your daughter?”

  His eyebrows flew up. “Yeah. Who’d you think it was for?”

  “Sheena.”

  He leaned forward and clasped his big hands together. “Sheena was someone I fucked. Nothing more and nothing less. I don’t pay that kind of money for jewelry for women I merely fuck. Shit, the last time I bought a gift for a woman at all, I was married to her.”

  “And then you cheated on her, right?” I don’t know why I said that. It was like I compulsively tried to antagonize this man because he seemed to like me.

  And I liked him.

  But why?

  He reclined in his seat. “That’s what they say.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Whatever you want it to mean.”

  I sighed and glanced at my lap, then reached down in my purse and pulled my phone out, navigating to the notes app. “Okay, how about we get started? What kind of piece are you thinking about now? Something else for your daughter?”

  He observed me for a moment as he rubbed a finger across his bottom lip. Then he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Um, birthday gift or just because? Do you have a deadline in mind?”

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, no. I mean, how fast can you make it?”

  “It’d depend on what you want, how elaborate it is, the kind of stones you want in it and if they’re readily available to me.”

  “Diamonds.”

  “Okay. Um, did you have a design in mind? What are her favorite things? What does she like?”

  “Hmm, besides Rihanna and Cardi B? Butterflies.”

  I smiled. “I like butterflies, too. So, maybe I can draw up a few designs for you and—how long will you be in town?”

  He shrugged. “A week or so.”

  “Let’s say I come back and show you the mock-ups in a couple of days? Here. Same time. Or you could come to Bijou Park?”

  “A couple of days here is fine.”

  I tapped out of the app and slid my phone back into my purse. “Great!”

  As I stood from my seat, he did the same and was right in front of me in seconds. His proximity made me feel a little woozy, so I grabbed the back of the chair I’d just vacated and looked up at him, afraid he was going to kiss me again, because I knew I couldn’t be responsible for my reaction. I might’ve ended up involuntarily naked.

  Instead, he raised his hand and dragged a finger from one of my cheeks, over my nose, to the other cheek. “I missed these Friday night.”

  It took me a moment to realize he was referring to my freckles. I had asked Sage to mask them the night of the premiere. “What?” I asked.

  “You have any idea how sexy you are?”

  In this? An oversized maxi dress, denim jacket, and flip-flops? “What?” I repeated.

  “I wanna see you again.”

  Huh? “Uh-um, you’ll see me in a couple of days, right?” Didn’t we just say that? As usual when I was in this man’s presence, I was confused as hell.

  He shook his head. “I don’t wanna wait that long. Can I see you tonight?”

  “Tonight? Here?” If I come here tonight, I’ma definitely have sex with you. No doubt. And that wouldn’t be good…would it?

  He shook his head again. “Dinner. At a restaurant.”

  He was so close that his warm breath was grazing the skin of my face. It smelled nice and minty. “A-a date? With you? You and me? Us? On a date? Together?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know I’m available?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  “No…I mean, how do you know I’m not—that I’m single?”

  Alarm clouded his handsome face. “Are you? You are, right?” The man was damn near pleading.

  “I am, but—”

  His shoulders dropped. “Shit! Good,” he breathed, and then he leaned in and slowly kissed his way across the path of my freckles. “So, will you go out with me?”

  “Mr. South—”

  “Everett.”

  “Ev-Everett, I don’t date rappers.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “But you kiss them?”

  “You kissed me.”

  “You kissed me back…and you moaned.”

  “You moaned, too!”

  “Because you tasted like cotton candy. Tell me, Jo, would you melt in my mouth?”

  Damn! “Uh…um…”

  “Have dinner with me.”

  “I-I don’t want to be listed as your newest jump-off on any of those gossip blogs. I live a quiet life. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “We can go someplace where I know they practice discretion, dine in a private room. I promise not to put you out there like that. I’d just like to get to know the sexy little angry but obviously very smart woman who won’t leave my thoughts.” He cupped my face in his big hands, looked me directly in the eye, and added, “Please.”

  Well, shit. What else could I say to that but, “Okay.”

  7

  “Hey.” I sounded as sheepish as I felt after ignoring her calls for days, but I knew she’d want to gush about Everett kissing me and I was confused enough without her gassing me up, making me believe something like him actually being interested in me was possible. But now? Hell, it was more than possible. It was happening.

  And I was still confused, but also kind of...I don’t know. Excited?

  “Oh, now your ass wanna talk to me?” she responded.

  I decided to take that deserved jab and keep going. “You work this evening?” Bridgette did what every other struggling actress did for a living. She was a waitress.

  “Nope. Called in sick.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Is it contagious, because I need you to come help me with something, but I’m not trying to get sick.”

  “Only thing I’m sick of is that job. What you need me for? I mean, I don’t know if I wanna help your ass since you been—”

  “I need you to help me get ready for this date with Ever—Big South. And can you call Sage because I need her, too. I’m supposed to meet him at eight.”

  The call ended so abruptly, I first thought my phone dropped the signal or something. I tried calling her back th
ree times but got no answer. I sighed and looked around my place, feeling lost. I wasn’t a fashionista. If it were up to me, I’d throw on some jeans and a t-shirt but felt like I needed to step things up for this man.

  So I decided to go ahead and call Ms. Sherry to impose on her again by asking her to watch Nat, and of course she readily agreed. I had dropped Nat off at her house and was on my way to dig through my closet when my doorbell rang. After checking the peephole, I flung the door open. “Why’d you hang up on me?”

  “Shit, this is an emergency. I hung up so I could get over here ASAP! Sage is on her way.” Bridgette stumbled into my house out of breath.

  “Did you drive or run?” I asked, as she collapsed onto my sofa.

  “Drove, then ran from my car. Spill the tea. How’d this happen?”

  “I had to meet with him for work, and he asked me to go out with him tonight and I don’t know why I said yes. This is stupid, right? I mean, what am I doing going out with someone like him?” I shook my head and fell onto the sofa beside her.

  “Uh, are you crazy? Let it be me and Big-motherfucking-South asked me out. Girl, what’s the problem? He’s fine as hell and he’s…him! Shit, if you ask me, you hit the jackpot. And I bet he can fuck, too. Lord!”

  “I’m not sleeping with that man, Bridgette!”

  “And why the hell not? You know you need some maintenance.”

  “Maintenance? What you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying you ain’t had no sex in years. You probably on the precipice of giving Sid some at this point.”

  “Shiiiit, wanna bet?”

  “Yeah, I don’t guess you’re that desperate.”

  “I’m not. Listen, what if Big—Everett is just trying to use me for sex or something?”

  “Don’t let him, or do let him. I’d let him…”

  “Bridgette! I’m serious!”

  “Hell, so am I.”

  I sighed.

  “Okay…look, I don’t think he’s about that. He seems to really like you from what I saw at the club. You should’ve seen the look on his face when you were talking shit to him. I think his ass was turned on.”