Higher Love Read online

  I gave him a look of innocence. “No, no. Never that.”

  “It was a last-minute trip and our partner hotel in the area was booked solid. That room was the best I could get.”

  “Hmm, I see.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Oh, I believe you. Unlike me, you disclosed your real name in Virginia. Takes an honest man to give his real name to a random sex partner.”

  “Is that how you see yourself?”

  “Is it not the truth?”

  “Not to me.”

  I felt warmth travel up my cheeks and took a quick sip of water.

  “So I don’t come off as a CEO, huh?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you just seem like the free and easy type of man rather than the corporate type.”

  “I see, well, I believe owning your own business is the absolute epitome of freedom.”

  “I would have to agree with that.”

  “Good. I’m glad we’re starting this dinner out on common ground. So, what did you do before becoming the Nubian Nomad?”

  “Don’t you know? I mean, didn’t you vet me before contacting me?”

  He nodded. “Of course we did. Just humor me.”

  “Um…okay, I held a few clerical positions here and there. I also worked as a barista for a short while. Nothing major. I have a Psych degree from TSU I’ve never used. I even have a cosmetology license. I’ve kind of been all over the place, I guess. Never been afraid to try new things.”

  “Or travel to new places. A free spirit.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you found your success and a home of sorts with your blog.”

  “I did. Always loved to travel. My parents instilled that in me. So at first I would save money from whatever job I had and take little trips and share pictures on social media. Then I started blogging as a way of keeping a record of my adventures, and the next thing I knew, I had this huge following and people were contacting me about placing ads and offering me free trips. The rest is history.”

  “That’s great, and I look forward to a future in partnership with you and your blog.”

  I took a breath and released it, then folded my hands in my lap, and said, “Look, um…I appreciate this, I really do, but I still can’t accept your company’s proposal.”

  “You would make that decision without hearing it? I know you said you were distracted during Millie’s presentation.”

  “I was-I… fine. Let’s hear it.”

  Over my corn risotto and his ribeye, he laid the terms out for me. Sable Jets would provide transportation for me to any destination—domestic or foreign—once monthly on one of their luxury jets. They would also arrange and pay for ground transportation and lodging at one of their partner establishments for up to three days. He threw out names like Hilton and Marriott but said there were many others. All Sable Jets wanted in return was for me to include pictures of the jet (inside and out) in the blog post for any trip that included a jet ride, as well as a banner ad and a linked, in-blog ad image. The banner ad was to remain on my blog for the duration of the partnership.

  Under different circumstances, I would have been excited. Hell, I was excited but I was also despondent because there was no way I could work with him. As bad as I wanted this deal, and I really, really wanted it, that desire paled in comparison to my desire to screw this man, right then and right there on that table. I wanted to toss decorum out the door, rip my clothes off, climb up on that table on all fours, and throw my ass at him for as long as he could take it with all of those nicely-dressed, well-behaved patrons staring at us. As he spoke about a G-something-or-other jet, I wanted to lick his neck and plunge my tongue into his mouth. No, there was no way on earth we could work together on any level, even if it wasn’t one-on-one, because he was too fine and I had prior knowledge of just how good he was in bed in the form of vivid images that played before me like a movie scene.

  “So…what do you think? You still don’t want to work with us?” he asked as he concluded his pitch.

  “I think the proposal is-is excellent and it exceeds my expectations, but I cannot partner with you.”

  He frowned slightly, rested his folded hands on the table. “Can I ask why?”

  I leaned forward and in a hushed voice said, “Mr. Hill, you know why.”

  “No…I don’t, Ms. Kennedy.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yes, you do,” I hissed.

  He smiled. “Say it.”

  “Say what? I already said it’s because of our past.”

  “The past where we screwed each other’s brains out? The same past where I gripped your ass and licked your back?”

  My mouth flew open.

  “Oh, I guess that wasn’t very business-like, was it? Let me rephrase, Ms. Kennedy. Are you referring to the innumerable intimate relations we shared in Virginia?”

  “You know I am. And let me tell you this: I don’t like this game you’re playing.”

  “What game?”

  “This game where you try to make me squirm.”

  “Am I making you squirm?”

  I scooted back in my chair and sprung to my feet. “I’m not a damn kid. I’m a grown-ass woman, and you can go to hell with your little game. I’m not accepting your offer, and I hope to never see or speak to you again.” I kept my voice low enough that those around us shouldn’t have heard me, but my body language spoke volumes.

  He stood and moved to my side of the table, placed his hand gently on my arm sending sparks to my core. I wished I hadn’t taken my jacket off and hung it on my chair. His effect on me was unnerving, and I needed to be in control of myself. His touching me made that hard.

  With his face so close to mine that I could feel heat radiating from it, he softly said, “I’m sorry. I truly am. It was not my intention to offend you in any way.”

  I inhaled his cologne and tried not to swoon. “Well, you did.”

  “I can see that, and I’m offering you my deepest apologies, Ms. Kennedy. I don’t want to play games with you. That’s the last thing I want to do. Will you please sit back down for a moment?”

  I slowly shifted my eyes to his face, thought about how his lips felt on my…everything.

  “Please?”

  I pulled away from him and reclaimed my seat.

  He sat down and straightened his already straight tie, glanced around the room. “I understand your misgivings. I really do. Will you at least allow me to show you one of our jets? I can have the driver take us to the airfield, right onto the tarmac. You won’t have to get out of the car. I think if you see one, you might have a change of heart.”

  I fixed my eyes on the table and resisted the urge to rub the spot on my arm he had touched. “Mr. Hill…”

  “Just a quick ride and then I’ll take you back to your hotel and you can go back to your life and forget we ever met.”

  I sighed. “All right.”

  The jet—one of a fleet of six—was gorgeous and huge, and the thought of it ascending into the sky just for little old me was thrilling. So I sat in the limo on the tarmac of Sable Jets’ small airfield located on the outskirts of Houston, and said, “I’d like to look at the contract again.”

  He grinned. “We can do that right now at my office. You’re really going to love the view.”

  *****

  “This truly is a great view,” I said, standing before a wall of windows in Derek’s office after having read over the contract.

  “It’s even more impressive when the office is dark. May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He turned the bright overhead lights off, causing the lights from neighboring buildings and the street below to almost glow. I stared at the view for a moment before turning my attention back to his luxurious office space. “So this is where you do all your work?”

  He nodded. He was standing by his desk with his hands in the pockets of his slacks, his eyes on me. “Yes, it is. Sometimes I sleep here. The couch is rather comfortable.”r />
  “You’re a workaholic?” I asked as I moved toward the desk, fondled the nameplate sitting on it.

  “I try to balance it out with my fair share of pleasure.”

  “Like Virginia?”

  “Oh, that was much more than pleasure. Much, much more.” He walked around the desk and stood next to me. “That was ecstasy.”

  I backed away from him a bit. “Really?”

  “Yes, don’t you agree?”

  “Maybe...”

  “I wish I could experience that again.”

  I lifted a brow. “Do you?”

  “You have no idea how badly I do.”

  I turned my back to him and faced the window again. “How can we do that? I want this deal, but I don’t want it to be about us. I want this because I earned it, not because of what we shared.”

  “One has nothing to do with the other. Millie found your blog and presented the idea to me. I okayed it before I realized who you were. Just give it a chance. One chance. I think it would be beneficial to both of us.”

  “It almost sounds like you’re talking about me and you rather than our mutual business interests.”

  “I’m referring to both. I want to do business with you, Greer. But I have no intention of that being our only connection. I don’t think we reconnected by accident. This was meant to happen. So...yes, I want you to give both me and Sable Jets a chance.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “What are you so afraid of, Greer?”

  “You. I’m afraid of you, Mr. Hill.”

  He moved close enough to touch me, but didn’t. “Don’t be. Give me a chance. I promise I’ll be good to you on both fronts, very good. Take a chance on me, Ms. Kennedy.”

  I stepped out of his reach and tilted my head to the side, appraising him in his suit. The familiar throbbing of my sex was clouding my mind a bit, but I knew what I wanted both in business and in pleasure, despite my fears. So I walked back over to his desk and said, “Okay.”

  He gave me a surprised look. “Okay for business or okay for us?”

  I smiled slyly as I shrugged out of my jacket and unbuttoned my pants, letting them fall to the floor at my feet. I stepped out of them and responded with, “Okay for both.”

  I eased his jacket from his broad shoulders and helped him out of his shirt and tie. With his eyes following my every move, he reached down to unbuckle his belt, but I stopped him. “No, let me,” I said.

  He raised both of his hands in surrender, his eyes glued to mine.

  I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and eased them down his muscular thighs before reaching into his briefs and wrapping my hand around his stiff shaft. He sucked in a breath as I slowly massaged him. Then his mouth met mine and he pulled my bottom lip between his and gently suckled it, took his hand and raked everything off of his desk before lifting me and placing me on it. Stepping between my open legs, he devoured my mouth with his while stroking my sex through the fabric of my panties.

  “Ah!” I said into his mouth.

  “Stand up,” he murmured.

  I did, and watched as he squatted before me and removed my panties, then he pulled my blouse over my head, and said, “You are so beautiful.”

  “And you are so damn fine,” I said, breathily.

  He reached around and unfastened my bra as if he’d been trained to do it before lifting me again and sitting me back on the desk, pulling me to the edge. He kneaded one breast while flicking the nipple of the other with his tongue. I closed my eyes and leaned back on my elbows and tried to catch my breath. When he entered me unexpectedly, I released a startled scream of pleasure.

  “Ooooooh! Derek!”

  “Call me Mr. Hill. I like that shit.”

  “Mr. Hill! Mr. Hill-Mr. Hill-Mr. Hill!”

  He filled me completely, grinding to a rhythm only he could hear and only I could match.

  “Baby!” he shouted. “Shit, I missed you!”

  “I missed you, too.” I sat up and found his mouth, kissed him deeply then grabbed his bottom lip and held it between my teeth, dug my nails into his back as he plunged deeper and deeper inside of me.

  After several minutes, I pushed against his chest, and said, “Wait, sit down.”

  “What?” he asked between labored breaths.

  “Sit down, Mr. Hill...on the couch. I wanna see just how comfortable it is.”

  With raised eyebrows, he said, “Oh,” and took a seat on the couch.

  I straddled him, used my hand to guide his erection inside of me, and eased down on it with a gasp as he gripped my ass and I gripped his shoulders. At first I was slow and steady with my grinding, but the longer I looked into his eyes and the more I felt his hands slide up and down my back, the more I quickened my pace until I eventually placed my feet on the couch on either side of him and began bouncing up and down on his rock-hard shaft with my head thrown back and deep hums of pleasure escaping my throat.

  “Greer...Greer…baby...” he murmured as he suckled on my left breast.

  “You like that, baby?” I asked with my eyes closed, on the edge of an internal explosion.

  He pulled me close and matched my thrusts with his own. “Hell. Yeah.”

  20

  Derek and I lay entwined in bed in my hotel room, both of us exhausted from round three of lovemaking that night. It was actually early the next morning, well before the sun was to rise and I was feeling, as Maxwell would say, fortunate. I can’t lie. I was happy to be with him, and I wanted to keep being with him in any way I could. I was also happy at the prospect of partnering with his company. I just hoped things would work out on both ends.

  My phone buzzed on the bedside table and I instinctively knew it was Trevia. I had talked to her earlier when I was getting ready for dinner and had been ignoring her calls for hours. I knew if I didn’t answer, she was liable to send the police to my room to check on me. So I waited until “missed call” popped up on my screen and I texted her:

  Me: I’m fine. Will call u later.

  Trevia: Ans ur phone. I’m calling back now.

  I rolled my eyes when her name appeared on the screen again, accepted the call, and whispered, “I’m fine. I’ll call you later.”

  “What happened?!” she virtually screamed into the phone. She was evidently loud enough to wake Derek, because the next thing I knew, his eyes had popped open.

  “Sorry,” I whispered to him.

  “Who you whispering to?” she asked, equally as loud.

  “Look, I gotta go, Trevia.”

  Derek disappeared under the covers and a second later, I felt his tongue caressing my pearl.

  “Oooooh, shit! Girl, I gotta goooooo,” I groaned as I ended the call and dropped the phone on the floor. I gripped the back of his head and said, “If...you wanted...me to…hang up...you could’ve...just...asked…”

  *****

  “What made you want to get into the business of chartering jets?” I asked him the next morning over breakfast. I was sitting at the table in my room wearing my robe. He was naked, sitting on the side of the bed enjoying his food. As enticing as he looked, I was determined to concentrate on our conversation and get to know this man for more than his ability to set my body on fire.

  He shrugged as he took a sip of his coffee. “I’ve always liked planes. It’s kind of an obsession of mine. At one time I wanted to be an airline pilot, but I have this thing where I hate working for other people. So I decided to expand the company my father left to me and my brother to include Sable Jets. I saw a market that was untapped—rich black people who wanted the luxury of private air travel and were also committed to supporting black-owned businesses. Things took off pretty quickly.”

  “Can you fly a plane?”

  “No, never got around to learning that. I wish I had, but owning several planes is a good consolation prize.”

  “You always travel via your jets?”

  He nodded. “Always.”

  “So your father left you a business? What ki
nd of business?”

  “Well, the original Sable Inc. owned a chain of grocery stores here in the south. Ever heard of Olsen’s?”

  I frowned slightly. “Yeah, but I never knew they were black-owned.”

  “They weren’t until my father bought the entire chain. Used the money he won from a settlement. He worked for the railroad for several years before suing them for discrimination after being unjustly passed over for promotion after promotion. After he bought the chain, he chose not to reveal ownership. After he died, Brandon and I decided to keep it as is but to expand the company to include other interests.”

  “Like what?”

  “Sable Publishing owns Sable Woman and Black King magazines. And there’s Black Stallion Contraceptives.”

  “You own a condom company?”

  He smiled. “Yes, we do. It’s the only brand I use.”

  I blushed. “Um, okay…why the names Sable Inc. and Sable Jets?”

  “Sable was my mother’s name.”

  “Oh, that’s a beautiful tribute to her.”

  “Yes, she was a great woman and my father was a great man who adored her. They died ten years ago within months of each other.”

  “I’m so sorry…”

  “It’s okay. Now let’s see...I’m six-four, my birthday is January fifth, I’m the youngest of two. My brother is six years older than me. I’m thirty-one, by the way. Never been married. No kids. Graduated from Prairie View with a degree in Business Administration. I was born and raised here in Houston. I like Neo Soul and R&B. I drink socially. I have excellent credit. I earn a great living, and I really, really like you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for the résumé.”

  “I figured I’d lay it all out for you, because I’ve got to be at the office in a couple of hours, so that means I don’t have long to get another taste of you before I head out to shower and change. I can’t show up at my own company in yesterday’s clothes, you know? Plus, you have another meeting with Millie this morning to seal the deal. So, why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap?”

  I tossed my napkin into my plate, stood, and shrugged out of my robe. “I’m more than happy to oblige you, but don’t you want me to tell you about myself?”