Chapter Six
Chanel
I was hit by the music from the live jazz band as soon as I opened the door. I recognized a rendition of Luther Vandross’ “Never Too Much”. I loved this song and felt the rhythm, and good vibes of this place hit my soul as I entered. I’d missed coming here over the last month. I was finally able to admit that to myself. As much as Xavier was a behind-
the-scenes owner, his fingerprints were all over this place, more so than any of his other establishments. I guessed that was because this place was the one he put the most of himself into, having named it after his mother and all.
“Hello, beautiful.”
I smiled at Joel. “Hey, you’re hosting tonight?”
Joel was one of the bartenders on weekend nights. It was a surprise to see him not behind the bar but instead taking names for tables.
“For a little while. We’re short-staffed tonight, so they called me in to cover for the hostess who got sick. I was supposed to have the evening off.”
“That sucks.”
He shrugged. “Not really. Boss man already called another employee to act as hostess so I can hop behind the bar. Tips are the best on Friday and Saturday nights.”
I gave him a half-smile but didn’t say anything. I silently hoped he was referring to the restaurant manager and not Xavier when he mentioned boss man.
“I’m meeting someone here. The reservation should be under Crawford,” I informed him.
“Let’s see…” He ran his finger down the clipboard of names. “Here it is. And Mr. Crawford has already arrived. You’re at table two. Right this way.” I followed as he made his way through the dining area toward the back to a line of booths.
“There she is.” Richard Crawford stood as we approached. He was about six feet tall with sandy blond hair and a brawny build that was easily attributed to his years in construction. Richard was a successful real estate developer in the Houston area. “Hello, darlin’.” He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek which, although atypical for a client-attorney relationship, spoke to Richard’s charming personality. He was a natural flirt, which also explained why this was his third divorce.
“Richard,” I greeted him. “Thank you, Joel.”
“Your waiter will be with you shortly,” Joel stated before nodding at both Richard and me, and leaving.
“How was your trip?” I questioned Richard as he sat down.
“It was excellent, darlin’,’” he stated in that southern Texas lilt I’d missed so much while living away from home. “We’re making good progress on this next project, and getting ready to break ground on another site in Dallas.”
“Sounds busy.”
Richard was interrupted when our waiter returned to pour us glasses of water.
“You drinkin’ tonight?”
I smiled. “Amaretto sour for me.”
“That’s one amaretto sour for the lady and a scotch for me. And keep ‘em coming.”
“Oh no, just one for me, thank you. Unlike you, I’m driving tonight.”
Richard let out a belly laugh. “Hell, darlin’, I just got back from a weeklong trip on site with a bunch of construction guys. I plan on taking advantage of being in the presence of a beautiful woman tonight.” He gave me a wink.
I shook my head and smirked. “You want to start talking business now or wait until after we order?”
“After we order. Why talk about divorce when we can talk about you and me?” He gave me a seductive grin, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.
I busted out laughing, tossing my head back and simply shaking it at my flirtatious client. I was sure he was just kidding, so I wasn’t worried about hurting his feelings.
“What, I’m too old for you?”
That elicited another laugh.
“Fine. I do have a son. He’s twenty-five and needs a good woman to help him settle down.”
“Richard.”
He shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
I laughed a little more and picked up my napkin from my lap to dab at the corners of my eyes. I looked up, out over Richard’s shoulder, and my eyes collided with a pair of sharp, coffee orbs. The look in Xavier’s eyes told me he wasn’t happy with the picture he saw in front of him. He stared at me for a second longer before his gaze flitted over to stare at the back of Richard’s head. If looks could kill…
My eyes widened at the realization that Xavier was interpreting my dinner with Richard as a date.
“You look like a deer caught in headlights.”
Richard’s words brought my attention back to the table.
“Sorry.”
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with that fella starin’ daggers into the back of my head, would it?”
“How did you…?”
“He’s been staring at us for a minute. If you weren’t so enamored in your stare down you would’ve seen me turn to look in his direction. A friend of yours?”
I snorted. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” He held his hands out at his sides for emphasis.
“No, you’ve got a divorce that needs handling.” I attempted to get back on track with the original cause for this meeting.
“Okay, we can talk shop for a little while. The sooner I get this divorce over with, the sooner I can commence with wooing you. It seems I’ve got some competition.” Richard turned to peer over his shoulder to where Xavier had stood. However, he was no longer there. His back was now to us as he moved toward the back exit of the restaurant.
“No competition, because you’re not trying to woo me. I’m your attorney and a very good one at that, which you need, since this is your third divorce and you didn’t have a prenuptial agreement.”
It was Richard’s turn to let out a belly laugh as our waiter returned with our drinks and took our dinner orders. I ordered the crab cakes with sweet potatoes and salad greens, while Richard opted for the porterhouse with a side of broccoli and cheddar mashed potatoes. When that was completed, we finally got down to business. Richard had his assistant email me over his financial records earlier in the week, along with his soon-to-be-ex-wife's demands. She was asking for half of his properties, which was ridiculous since they’d only been married three years and had no children together.
“So, you think you can help me, darlin’?” Richard asked as we finished up our dinner and I completed going over all of his options.
“Of course I can, if you make me one promise,” I stated seriously.
His hazel eyes zeroed in on me as he squinted. “What’s that?” Gone was the playful Richard, replaced by the cautious, business-savvy entrepreneur who knew not to agree to anything before terms were clear.
I leaned into the table. “You come to me the next time you decide to get married so we can write you up a proper prenup.”
He busted out laughing, but I sat back in my seat, serious. Richard was as smart as they came to business, but dumb in matters of love. He had a knack for real estate, and even during the economic downturn that had hit construction companies hard, he’d continued to thrive. When it came to business he reminded me of the very owner of this restaurant. That thought had my eyes floating toward the back exit, which was the last place I’d spotted Xavier. A part of me hoped I wouldn’t see him again before I was able to sneak out, while another part told me that was a lie.
“I’m sure I can do that,” Richard answered to my earlier proposition, bringing my attention back to the table.
“Good, then you’ve got yourself an attorney.” I extended my hand across the table for him to shake. In true Richard Crawford fashion, instead of a handshake, he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “We’re going to have to do something about your flirting,” I grinned.
“Many have tried, all have failed.”
We both stood from the table after Richard insisted on taking care of the check.
“Hold on a sec, darlin’.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Son, what’s going on?”
I stood by our table, hearing the urgency in Richard’s voice.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be there.”
“Everything all right?” I asked.
“Not really. It seems my damn kid got himself in trouble again. See, this is what I mean by a good woman needing to settle him down.”
“Don’t look at me,” I responded after he gave me an expectant look.
“I’ve gotta go.”
“Go, go ahead. I need to head to the restroom anyway. Take care of your family.”
“Thank you. I’ll have my assistant send you the papers we discussed on Monday.”
I nodded, and Richard hurried off. I gave him one last look before I gazed around the dining restaurant, making sure that a certain pair of coffee brown eyes weren’t anywhere in sight. Satisfied that I didn’t see Xavier, I headed off to the restroom to relieve myself before heading to my car. I wished there was an exit that wouldn’t lead me through the rest of the restaurant where I could run into him.
****
Xavier
I watched as she strutted away from the table towards the bathroom.
“Aye Brian, take care of things for a little while.” Brian was an assistant manager at another restaurant who’d been helping me at Grant’s tonight.
“No problem.”
His response was met with my back as I’d already started toward the women’s restroom. I was propelled by a mix of curiosity, need, and yes, I’m man enough to admit jealousy. Seeing her laughing with another man pissed me the hell off. A man who looked old enough to be her father. As I approached the bathroom door, I talked myself off the ledge just enough to prevent me from barging into the women’s bathroom. I wasn’t in the mood to be accused of sexual harassment by my female customers. Instead, I stood just outside the door, waiting. Creepy? Maybe. But needed in this case.
As soon as she stepped out of the restroom, her back turned to me, my entire body felt it. My instincts told me to reach out and pull her into me, but I held off. I’m not a man led by instincts alone, but with this woman, it was often difficult to let my saner, more logical side do the leading.
I watched as she used her hand to push her hair behind her ear, a move that always got to me for some reason. Her ass was sitting high in the black pants she wore, due to the high-heeled red bottoms on her feet. Up top, she had on a sleeveless, cream ruffled top, which she’d tucked in at the waist. A whiff of her Dior J’dore perfume caught my nose, and that sparked my anger even more. She’d worn the perfume I’d bought for her out to dinner with another man?
“What the—?” her startled reaction cut off when she looked over her shoulder and saw it was me who’d grabbed her by the arm. An odd sense of irony hit me when the live band began playing Alicia Keys’ Wreckless Love.
Without a word, I led her from the bathroom, through part of the dining area, ignoring the curious glances of some of the patrons, and into the back office that belonged to the restaurant manager. I flicked on the light, illuminating the room, showcasing the rather plain office space, complete with a large wooden desk in the center, a file cabinet along the wall by the door, and another on the opposite side of the room.
“You know, this is the second time you’ve come up from behind and pulled me into a room. You’re gonna get enough of grabbing me like that!” she seethed as I pulled her into the office and slammed the door behind us. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You. You’re what’s wrong with me.” My voice came out almost too calm. I stood about a couple of feet from her, needing that little bit of space to keep my hands to myself.
“Me?” she shrieked. “I haven’t done shit to you besides leave you alone, as requested.”
“I never asked you to leave me alone,” I responded, dully.
“Really, Xavier? I’m a pretty smart woman. A man telling me he's done and walking out is pretty much the definition of leave me alone.”
“So leaving me alone is walking up in my damn restaurant with another man?”
Her head snapped back. “I didn’t walk—”
“So you weren’t just out there laughing and kik-ing out there with another man?”
She blew out an over exaggerated breath. “What I do and whom I do it with is none of your goddamn business. How about that?!” She threw her hand on her hip, jutting it out to the side, using her other hand to thrust her finger at my face. Her face was marred by her anger.
My dick stirred in my pants. Her anger always got that sort of rise out of me, and the jealousy that was flowing through my veins inspired me to take a step closer, and then another until I was directly in her face.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I growled. “Everything having to do with you is my business.” The next thing I recall seeing is Chanel’s eyes double in size as I grabbed her face between my hands and pulled her mouth to mine. I felt her squirm for a few seconds in a weak attempt to break out of my grasp. If I’d felt any real resistance, I would’ve let her go, but within seconds she was melting into me and opening up, allowing my tongue entrance. When she did, it was as if my entire body sighed in relief.
My feet moved as I pushed Chanel’s body back against the closed door, our lips still interlocked. Her hands moved up my arms, past my biceps and up to my shoulders, gripping them, pulling me into her. I gladly obliged, leaning my body weight onto her even more.
Seconds later, I paused, needing to come up for air. I stared down into those big ass brown eyes that made my knees weak. How I could feel strong enough to take on a whole army and weak enough to succumb to even the most minor of pleas in the presence of this woman always confounded me. Right now, the only thing I needed was to be buried balls deep inside her, and the look Chanel was giving me said she needed the same thing.
She gasped when I crushed my lips to hers again and stooped low to pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. I carried her over to the desk, not caring about the papers and files that fell to the floor as I plopped her down. Chanel quickly recovered and began reaching for the hem of my button-down white shirt, pulling it out of my pants and ripping the buttons open. I would’ve laughed at her anxiousness if it wasn’t rivaled by my own. I eagerly pulled her blouse over her head, aided by the raising of her arms. Once her shirt was discarded, I quickly did away with demi bra she wore and unbuttoned her pants.
“Lean back,” I ordered, pushing her down by the shoulder, so her back was flat against the desk. I made quick work of stripping her of her pants and lace panties. As soon as her panties hit the floor, I spread Chanel’s legs and commenced to eating her middle as if it were Sunday dinner.
“Goddamn,” Chanel gasped while her hips bucked.
I gripped her at either side of her hips, pulling her into me, giving her no chance to move from my grasp as I continued to lap up all of her juices. I used my tongue to imprint my name all over that pussy once again. It’d been too fucking long since I’d been able to savor this taste and I wasn’t taking this shit lightly. Soon enough, I began feeling her legs tremble and her back arched off the desk, signaling her oncoming orgasm. To help her along, I inserted two fingers into her wetness, curling them to reach her G-spot. I felt her walls tighten around my fingers, followed by a gush of wetness on my tongue as she came. Her loud moans reminded me that my dick was nearly making a hole in my pants, pushing through, seeking its warm home.
I stood, pulling Chanel to my mouth allowing her to taste herself on my lips. Pulling back, I turned her around and bent her over the desk. My mouth watered at the sight of her plump ass bared for only me to see and savor. I unbuttoned and pulled down my pants, and within seconds sank my rock-hard member into her warm channel. We let out a chorus of sighs and moans. I took a second to adjust to being home again.
“Xavier, please,” Chanel begged. “I need you to move.” She tried to squirm, but that only earned her a slap on the ass. “Mmmm,” she moaned, and I finally moved, to both our relief.
“Ah, shit,” I grunted and tightened the hold I had on her hips right before I began hammering away at her pussy. In the distance, I heard more files, pens and other shit fall from the desk, but I was too far gone to care.
“Too...fucking...long,” I grunted each time I thrust inside her. “Throw it back, baby,” I encouraged. Chanel soon caught on to my rhythm and began throwing it back like a pro for every one of my down strokes. We were completely in sync, just like always, as if our bodies were made to be loved by one another’s. Still, needing more, I hooked my hand under her right knee and lifted it to the desk, exposing more of her to me, allowing me to sink even deeper.
“Oh, God!” Chanel yelled at the increased intensity of this position.
I wrapped my left arm around her upper body, pulling it to me, so her back met the front of my chest.
“This pussy is still mine,” I whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe.
“Mmmm,” came her response, but I took it as confirmation of my statement.
“I…I’m…” she panted, but couldn’t manage to get out the rest before her orgasm overtook her and rained juices all over my thrusting dick.
“Shit,” I growled as her muscles gripped the life out of my dick, causing my orgasm to crest. I tightened my hold on her and shook as my semen spurted inside of her. Tingles of pleasure started all the way from my toes only grew in intensity as they traveled up my body until it felt like they exploded out of the top of my head. When I came back to reality, I was still holding Chanel tightly, both of us now seated in the large office chair that’d been pushed aside earlier. We both panted, gasping for air and a return to our good senses.
“I don’t understand why it’s always like this with you,” Chanel stated and sighed, breaking up the sounds of our hard breathing.
I completely understood what she meant. Sex had always been enjoyable for me in the past. But what we did was beyond sex, beyond just making love or any of those other clichéd euphemisms used to describe it. With her, it was damn near life-altering every time. And though I’d missed much more than just the physical intimacy of this woman over the last month and a half, I couldn’t deny it was high on the list.
I pressed a kiss to the back of her now sweaty shoulder, and I buried my face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply to get the totality of her scent, or rather, my scent mixed with hers. It was my favorite.
“You can’t be serious,” she scoffed, and then squirmed in my lap.
I chuckled, knowing she was referring to the way my dick jumped, coming back to life, still embedded inside her. Sniffing her had begun to get me aroused again. I’d been backed up for more than a month, and now that she was back in my arms, my body couldn’t help itself.
“You know what type of effect you have on me,” I answered and nipped at her neck. I smiled at the soft moan she let out.
“I wasn’t on a date,” she conceded after a few moments of silence. Her head fell back on my shoulder. “He’s a client. He’s getting a divorce, and this was the only time he could meet this week.”
Something in my chest expanded and felt lighter at her explanation, and my arms tightened around her body. Deep down I probably knew it was a working dinner. Yes, I’d seen her laughing at his apparent jokes or flirtations, but she didn’t have that gleam in her eye the way she did when she looked at me. Her smile was courteous, but it didn’t brighten her entire face like when she smiled at me. I knew it wasn’t a date, but that didn’t mean seeing her with another man over a candlelight dinner, laughing and smiling didn’t set off my possessive streak, a streak I wasn’t even aware of until a few months ago, thanks to her.
“Come home with me.” It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t bother waiting for a response. I leaned over, picking up a few of our discarded clothing items and helped Chanel to put on her bra. She wiggled and stood up, letting out a soft groan when I slid completely out of her.
“Xavier...”
Damn, the way she said my name caused tingles to shoot through my stomach.
“You have to finish work and—”
“And Brian can finish and close up for the night. You and I need to talk...in the morning.” I stood and leaned over her to run my tongue across her lower lip. I pulled up my pants and grabbed my ripped shirt from the floor, holding it up and staring at her. Chanel gave me a sheepish look before shrugging. I pulled her into me again, my hand squeezing her ass and pressing my hips against her abdomen so she could feel just how much I wanted her again.
“We’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” I stared down at her kiss-swollen lips and smeared lip gloss and grinned. “Or Sunday.” Any dissent she tried to form was cut off by my lips on hers.