inseparable. That was before death had claimed her mother and Colleen and Paige’s within a year of each other. That had definitely put a gloom on the Lockhart and Richards households.
“Come on,” Amber said. “We can’t keep the spa waiting. I had to work wonders to get you in. You’re going to love this place. A girlfriend of mine works there.”
With her sisters’ and cousins’ help, Opal grabbed her many bags. She had purchased a lot of new outfits and she had to admit that, once she had got into the swing of shopping, she was more than pleased with her purchases.
As they left the beauty salon, she couldn’t help but ponder Pearl’s statement. Exactly what would D’marcus think when he saw her on Monday morning?
Later that same night, D’marcus sat across the table from a woman, thinking he had made a grave mistake. All week, anticipation had clawed at his insides, and then there was that intense sexual desire that had almost gotten the best of him, nearly driving him over the edge.
He had looked forward to tonight and hadn’t been disappointed when he had arrived at Priscilla’s house. She was a looker, and the outfit she wore did wonders for her body. And he knew that had he pushed, they would have ended up making love before leaving for dinner. But he hadn’t pushed.
Now he wished he had.
At least that would have given her something to talk about other than herself…which seemed to be her favorite topic. The woman had been talking nonstop since he had walked her out to his car. And she was still talking. The only time she had taken a break was when they were eating, only because she had the decency not to talk with food in her mouth. But now it seemed she had gotten a second wind. He didn’t remember her being a talker of this magnitude before, and it was getting to him big-time.
“So, will you be spending the night, D’marcus?” she asked in a sultry voice.
He was hard up, but apparently he wasn’t as hard up as he’d thought. He refused to find sexual solace with this chatterbox. “No, I need to go home and start packing. I’m leaving town on Monday.”
She leaned closer across the table, giving him a good look at her cleavage. “In that case, maybe I should go over to your place and help you pack.”
Not hardly. “Thanks, Priscilla, but I can handle things.”
Beneath the table he felt her rub her foot against his leg. “So can I,” she all but purred.
He sighed and took a sip of his wine. Their date wouldn’t come to an end fast enough to suit him. He had thought all he had to do was find a woman and relieve some of his sexual pressure, but this woman wouldn’t do. In fact, there was only one woman who could probably do what he needed, and she was the same woman he blamed for this madness he was in—Opal Lockhart. Lately he had found himself comparing every woman to her, and none could size up.
“So, what about it, D’marcus?”
“Not tonight, Priscilla. You’ll be a distraction I don’t need,” he said, and that was putting it nicely. What he had stopped himself from saying was that she would get on his last nerve. At this point, any woman would…except for Opal.
He sighed inwardly, deciding to be totally honest with himself. The reason he was turned off by Priscilla had nothing to do with her being a chatterbox, and everything to do with her not being Opal. He could come up with any excuse he wanted to, but the bottom line was that he would find any woman other than his administrative assistant undesirable. More than ever, that realization didn’t sit well with him, and it definitely didn’t do anything to help his current sexual state.
He didn’t fully understand how it had happened, but it had. Opal Lockhart had gotten under his skin.
Opal’s cell phone rang at precisely seven o’clock on Monday morning. “Hello?”
“Ms. Lockhart, this is D’marcus Armstrong. I’m entering your apartment complex now.”
She thought he had a very
“Come on,” Amber said. “We can’t keep the spa waiting. I had to work wonders to get you in. You’re going to love this place. A girlfriend of mine works there.”
With her sisters’ and cousins’ help, Opal grabbed her many bags. She had purchased a lot of new outfits and she had to admit that, once she had got into the swing of shopping, she was more than pleased with her purchases.
As they left the beauty salon, she couldn’t help but ponder Pearl’s statement. Exactly what would D’marcus think when he saw her on Monday morning?
Later that same night, D’marcus sat across the table from a woman, thinking he had made a grave mistake. All week, anticipation had clawed at his insides, and then there was that intense sexual desire that had almost gotten the best of him, nearly driving him over the edge.
He had looked forward to tonight and hadn’t been disappointed when he had arrived at Priscilla’s house. She was a looker, and the outfit she wore did wonders for her body. And he knew that had he pushed, they would have ended up making love before leaving for dinner. But he hadn’t pushed.
Now he wished he had.
At least that would have given her something to talk about other than herself…which seemed to be her favorite topic. The woman had been talking nonstop since he had walked her out to his car. And she was still talking. The only time she had taken a break was when they were eating, only because she had the decency not to talk with food in her mouth. But now it seemed she had gotten a second wind. He didn’t remember her being a talker of this magnitude before, and it was getting to him big-time.
“So, will you be spending the night, D’marcus?” she asked in a sultry voice.
He was hard up, but apparently he wasn’t as hard up as he’d thought. He refused to find sexual solace with this chatterbox. “No, I need to go home and start packing. I’m leaving town on Monday.”
She leaned closer across the table, giving him a good look at her cleavage. “In that case, maybe I should go over to your place and help you pack.”
Not hardly. “Thanks, Priscilla, but I can handle things.”
Beneath the table he felt her rub her foot against his leg. “So can I,” she all but purred.
He sighed and took a sip of his wine. Their date wouldn’t come to an end fast enough to suit him. He had thought all he had to do was find a woman and relieve some of his sexual pressure, but this woman wouldn’t do. In fact, there was only one woman who could probably do what he needed, and she was the same woman he blamed for this madness he was in—Opal Lockhart. Lately he had found himself comparing every woman to her, and none could size up.
“So, what about it, D’marcus?”
“Not tonight, Priscilla. You’ll be a distraction I don’t need,” he said, and that was putting it nicely. What he had stopped himself from saying was that she would get on his last nerve. At this point, any woman would…except for Opal.
He sighed inwardly, deciding to be totally honest with himself. The reason he was turned off by Priscilla had nothing to do with her being a chatterbox, and everything to do with her not being Opal. He could come up with any excuse he wanted to, but the bottom line was that he would find any woman other than his administrative assistant undesirable. More than ever, that realization didn’t sit well with him, and it definitely didn’t do anything to help his current sexual state.
He didn’t fully understand how it had happened, but it had. Opal Lockhart had gotten under his skin.
Opal’s cell phone rang at precisely seven o’clock on Monday morning. “Hello?”
“Ms. Lockhart, this is D’marcus Armstrong. I’m entering your apartment complex now.”
She thought he had a very
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