“So, I see you’re wearing the fuck me heels this time around,” Meghan observed from the doorway of my bedroom. “Would this have anything to do with the weird way things ended with you and Carlos on Friday?”

The weekend flew by. Saturday was spent printing out and framing my very first Re-Mix byline. Tears and celebratory carbs filled my day. I was happy, and my belly was full of laughter and sweet treats. But as I stood in a sexy black dress Sunday night, the knot in my stomach grew. Even though I knew I had nothing to feel bad about, I thought about Carlos all weekend.

“These were the shoes that looked best with this dress,” I replied as I eyed the gold spikes that covered my heels in the mirror.

“Yes, they do,” she acknowledged, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. “But you’re looking pretty sexy for a work event.”

I shifted my gaze from my reflection to my best friend. “You think it’s too much?”

“No, it’s just the right amount of sexy for a gallery event. It’s not too short, but it’s showing off your legs. It’s not too low cut, but it’s showing off your cleavage. And with your back out like that, it’s showing off your ass.”

That was the hope.

“Okay, good.” I readjusted the gold pins in my updo and took a step back. “I’m ready.”

“So, what are you going to say when you see him? Are you going to tell him about the article you’re turning in tomorrow?”

The knot in my belly tightened. “If we cross paths, I’ll tell him.”

She scoffed. “If we cross paths,” she mimicked me, rolling her eyes. “If these last two singles events are any indication, you two will find your way to each other. Trust and believe.”

I shook my arms at my sides. I can do all things.

We said our goodbyes and twenty minutes later, I was standing outside of Rich Gallery. Gathering myself and gripping my gold clutch with all the strength I could muster, I walked inside with a group of women I didn’t know.

“Welcome to Sapphire’s showcase,” a woman in a sparkly dress welcomed us. “If you’re single, I need you to wear this.”

After checking my jacket, I got in line behind the four women with whom I’d walked in. I watched as they held out their wrists and received black sparkly wristbands so when it was my turn, I followed suit.

“I think you have an admirer,” the woman in the sparkly dress whispered. Once she attached my wristband, she signaled with her eyes.

Following her line of vision, the knot in my belly grew as I anticipated laying eyes on Carlos.

“Oh,” I mumbled aloud, locking eyes with a good-looking man I’d never seen before. “Thanks.”

She held on to my wrist a little longer than necessary. “If you don’t want him, send him my way,” she giggled causing me to toss my head back and laugh.

The nerves I’d felt initially dissipated as I moved into the gallery space. The mid-sized gallery in the heart of downtown Richland featured the art of new and upcoming artists for a two-week period. Sundays of the opening weekend were designated singles events and as I looked around, I was impressed with the turnout for Sapphire.

“Hi, I’m Michael,” a deep voice met me at the first painting.

Reaching out, I met his outstretched hand. “Hi, Michael, I’m Akila.”

“You look familiar.” He checked me out. “But I know I would’ve remembered you if I met you.”

“What do you think of this piece?” I inquired, shifting the focus to the dark colored painting in front of us. I felt him gawking at me, but I continued to look at the fluid lines in front of me. “What does it say to you?”

“It’s cool.” He paused until I looked over at him. “Can I get you a drink or something?”

“No, thank you.” I looked back at the painting. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know. This isn’t really my scene.”

“Oh? So, what made you come?”

“To meet women like you.”

I gave him a look. “Women like me?”

“Beautiful women who could tell me about art.” He let out a sheepish chuckle. “I know nothing about art.”

“Art is subjective. It’s just about what you see and what you feel. I don’t know much about painting or Sapphire’s work, but I know what I see and what I feel when I look at it…” I gestured to the darkest areas of the portrait. “It’s all about your experience with the work.”

“You are so beautiful,” he commented.

I twisted to face him. “Thanks. Did you hear what I was saying?”

“I was distracted by your beauty,” he flirted.

I blinked.

His smile widened.

I looked at him blankly.

“I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

He spun around and had only gotten three steps before I heard his voice. “You are absolutely beautiful,” he greeted an unsuspecting woman who giggled.

Shaking my head, a smile played on my lips. Men.

I met a couple of other men as I moved from painting to painting. There were questions placed around the gallery to stimulate conversation about the art. For singles, there were additional get-to-know-you questions. The entire format promoted discussion while simultaneously honoring the art.

I was in a discussion with a small group of people about the painting of the faceless woman on the red canvas.

“I think it represents a woman on her cycle,” one woman observed.

“Yeah, because of the red,” a man chimed in, nodding. “I think she feels powerless to the pain of her cramps.”

“Yeah, because it’s a heavy flow. It’s pooling around her. This could be representative of the most emotional time of our month,” she elaborated before tapping my arm. “What do you think?”

I stared at the painting. “I think she’s living a vibrant life and she wants to be heard by a world that doesn’t want to hear her,” I stated, eyes transfixed on the work.

They were quiet as they considered what I’d said, nodding in agreement without adding any additional commentary. Even as they moved on to the next painting, I remained in place, studying it.

“If you were on time, you would’ve gotten a personal escort around the gallery,” Carlos informed me as he positioned himself next to me. “Perks of living three blocks away.”

The sound of his voice curled my toes.

I gripped my clutch tighter as my entire lower body clenched. “I was only fifteen minutes late,” I whispered, still staring forward.

“And you would only know that if you were looking for me.”

“You aren’t hard to miss, Akila.”

It wasn’t the words so much as the way his voice wrapped around my name that did me in.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I looked over at him. The sheer sight of him gave me butterflies. He wore black pants and a black button up shirt, tucked in with a black belt and shoes. He oozed sexiness and all he was doing was standing there, staring at the painting.

“What do you see?” I asked, praying he didn’t hear the wispiness of my voice.

“A lot of red,” he answered as I stared at his profile. “I see a woman who drinks red wine to deal with her invisibility.”

My lips turned upward as he took a sip of brown liquor from his tumbler. “Interesting,” I responded.

“And you?”

“I think the absence of blue means that she’s probably not sad. I think red is vibrant and sexy. I think she is living this full life and she wants to be heard, she wants to shout it from the rooftops.”

“You probably know her social security number, too, huh?” he joked, amusement dripping from his voice.

Stifling a giggle that threatened to bubble through me, I moved toward the next exhibit. I stayed a step ahead of him and didn’t stop until I was standing directly in front of the monochromatic depiction of intertwined limbs.

“Hm,” I murmured, eyeing the suggestive painting. “What do you see?”

He didn’t answer for a while. I didn’t push him to rush his answer. Giving him a sidelong glance, I noticed the way he took in the large canvas. I focused my attention back on the image and tried to figure out what the art was saying to me.

Carlos cleared his throat. “It looks like…ecstasy.”

“Yes,” I agreed. As I stared at the image, I tilted my head to the side. “It’s pleasure. It’s desire. It’s…” I couldn’t come up with a strong enough word to describe the lust displayed, but I felt it within me.

“It’s what?” His deep voice ricocheted in my head and then shot down to the apex of my thighs.

Peering at him, my lips parted, but I still had no words. Turned on and standing next to the man who had frequented my fantasies, my body understood the painting better than my mind could comprehend.

When he looked over at me and our eyes met, my heart stopped. Just for a second, it stopped. And then it pounded. We stared at one another and the seconds ticked by.

Breaking the trance, I took a step back, almost bumping into someone. “I should—we should, um…mingle.” Tearing my eyes away from him, I strode across the room as if I wasn’t affected by him.

I was glad I broke away from him when I did.

While I had great conversation with a number of people attending the event, I was getting hotter and more bothered. The art became darker and sexier as the exhibit continued, so the conversations around me did, too. But neither intellectually stimulating conversation nor art held my attention for long. Even when I wanted to engage in conversation with someone about the art, I found myself looking for him subconsciously. Every ten minutes, my eyes would locate Carlos in the crowd. And every time, my eyes found him, his eyes were already on me. And we’d both instantly look away.

I tried to get him out of my head. But with two glasses of champagne swimming through my system and a very phallic painting in front of me, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. At one point I just kept picturing his hands on me, his mouth tasting me, and his dick in me. I tried to focus on the art in front of me, but my mind kept wandering to him. He had officially consumed my thoughts.

“You should go for it,” a man’s voice interrupted the fantasies brewing in my head.

I glanced over my shoulder and it was a cute couple having a private conversation.

“I think you’re right. I’m going to ask the gallery owner about signing up for my own show,” the woman squealed. “Thank you for supporting me, boo.”

I smiled at them even though they weren’t paying me any mind, and I turned my attention back toward the painting. Even though I wasn’t facing them, I heard the man repeat his advice to his girlfriend.

“You should go for it,” he said.

His words mixed with the champagne as I studied the painting in front of me. The heavy usage of red and black were so sexual and primal to me.

I should go for it.

It was right in that moment that I decided that I was going to have to fuck Carlos to get him out my head and off my mind.

Slowly spinning on my heels, I saw him sipping his drink and discussing something with a woman who looked like she was hanging on to his every word. While he was distracted, I allowed myself the pleasure of taking him in from a distance. My gaze traveled down and then back up his body to that stunningly handsome face of his.

Shit.

I was caught.

But unlike all the other times when we quickly averted our eyes, our looks lingered, and something shifted. The room felt hotter, the air felt thicker, and my body felt tingly. The energy between us was calling the shots and the atmosphere in the entire gallery had changed. I felt it instantly.

Licking my lips, I strutted across the floor, more mindful than ever that his eyes were searing into my skin. As I walked across the room to the painting we’d last looked at together, I lifted my eyebrows, hoping he’d understand my signal to follow me.

It worked.

“It’s captivating,” Carlos commented. His voice low and husky.

“I can’t take my eyes off it.” My stomach fluttered, and my voice came out breathier than normal.

“I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I.”

“But I know I want it.”

“So do I.” Taking a deep breath, I gazed up at him. “I keep thinking about it.”

He stepped a little closer to me. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

The way he looked at me mixed with the sound of his voice to cause a quiver in my belly. “I don’t think it’s going to stop until we do something about it.”

“What would you like to do about it, Akila?”

“We should go somewhere quiet and discuss it.”

His tongue ran from one corner of his mouth to the other. “When? I would suggest tonight, but I have to be up early, and I don’t want to rush it. I want to make sure there’s enough time to discuss everything that needs to be covered.”

“I appreciate that.” I bit my lip and moved a little closer. “But I don’t think this conversation can wait.”

“There’s a twenty-four-hour coffee shop a couple of blocks away.”

My head moved up and down sluggishly, in a trance. “That’s cool.” I swallowed hard. “But I was thinking some place a little quieter.”

His chest rose and then fell. The tension between us was building. With each word, each look, and each minute that passed by, I was being seduced by him. The magic was happening.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He paused. “Just tell me where.”

“You live three blocks away.” I stepped closer to him, so close that we were almost touching. “I want to go to your place.”

His brown eyes bore into mine and for the first time, I could see how bad he wanted me. He lifted his hand and touched my shoulder, running his fingertips down my arm until his fingers intertwined with mine. “Let’s get your coat.”

After helping me into my jacket, we walked to where I’d parked. His hand was firmly placed on the small of my back, under my jacket. His fingers danced against my skin as we approached my car. His touch felt so good I was unable to speak.

“This is me,” I murmured, pulling my keys out of my bag with shaky fingers.

They dropped to the pavement with a jingly thud and without missing a beat, Carlos stooped down to pick them up. As he was crouched down before me, I flashed back to that day in the park.

And those sweatpants. And that dick.

He worked his gaze up my body before making eye contact again. Leisurely, he stood, pinning me between his body and the car. His eyes lingered on my lips and when I licked them, his eyes darkened. I waited for him to make a move, but he didn’t. He left me in a dizzying state of wanton need as he pressed his body against mine.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Kiss me,” I whispered.

He responded by kissing me with enough passion to take my breath away.

Wrapping my arms around him, I moaned into his mouth. The electricity crackled between us. Butterflies started at the base of my stomach and fanned out. I felt them in my chest as he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t just sparks and fireworks, the kiss was magic and soul stirring. Fire burned through my entire body

Impulsively, we moaned together, loudly, when our tongues touched. Shivers traveled up and down my spine. I found myself clutching his shirt in an effort to help me climb him. I wanted to keep our bodies connected and feeling him hardening beneath his pants only intensified my urges. My heart thudded in my chest and because we were so close, I could feel his doing the same.

A deep growl from the base of his throat soaked my already wet panties.

He was rock hard and although he pulled out of the kiss and only our foreheads touched, I could still feel the heat of his hardness against my belly.

“We should stop,” he said. His hands were running up and down my arms before cupping my face again. His eyes were shut tightly. “

I lifted my right leg and pulled him closer. “We really should,” I replied, pushing my lips up against his. My heart was drumming in my chest, and something deep in my gut tightened.

His sweet lips moved against mine sensually, allowing me to relish in the taste of him. I nipped and sucked at his bottom lip. As his hands moved down to my hips, he turned slightly so he could grab the thigh of my raised leg. My body responded to his, curving toward him, into him. I could feel how hard he was and it took everything in me to not snake my hand down his torso just to see if he was as big as he appeared at the park.

“Carlos,” I murmured between kisses.

Groaning, he dug his fingers into my skin a little harder before resting his forehead against mine. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Will you show me when we get to your place?”

“For as long as you’ll let me.”

He opened my door for me and as he walked around to the passenger side, I felt a chill roll through me. The excitement and anticipation was so intense that I had to squeeze my thighs together to calm the ache.

“Do you know where Liberty Lofts is?” he asked as he got in, filling my car with his scent.

Sandalwood.

I inhaled deeply before nodding. “Yes.”

“That’s where I live.”

I started the car. “I can’t wait to see it.”

He stared at me until I looked over at him. “I can’t wait to show it to you.”

Good Lord. I swallowed hard.

It was a three-minute drive from the gallery to Liberty Lofts.

I got there in ninety seconds.