Wicked Intentions by Linda Verji Page A

peeking through the grey drapes were enough light for her to see what she was doing. In the morning light her decision to have one night of torrid sex with a perfect stranger seemed stupid. This was not her style at all. What had she been thinking?
    She bent to pick up her dress that was bunched up at the foot of the bed. Her back cramped with the effort as did her lower body.
    Damn Nathan!
    Her eyes flew to him. He lay sprawled on the bed, arm slung over his eyes and chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. The grey comforter stopped just below his navel hinting at the goodies below. Once hadn’t been enough for him; neither had twice. She wanted to tell him it was enough but then his kisses had her toes curling and soon she was begging for round three.
    Oh God! What did I do? Heat flushed through her body as she remembered all the nasty things they’d gotten up to. How the hell was she going to face him after today? With any luck their next and last meeting would be when he handed her back the keys to her apartment. Maybe she could get London to get her keys to avoid ever seeing Nathan again.
    She mulled over how to blackmail London to do it as she searched the room for her bra. It was draped conveniently on the headboard above Nathan. Careful not to make any noise and wake up him up, she crept towards the bed. In the morning light his features were soft and relaxed but that didn’t minimize their impact. If anything it only made her want to bend and place her lips against his to confirm that they tasted just as good this morning as they had last night.
    Resisting the impulse, she reached for her bra – just as Nathan stirred.
    She held in her sharp intake of breath as her gaze flew to him. Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up . He didn’t. He turned on to his side away from her. Shakira let out her breath in a soft whoosh before picking the bra. Afraid that she’d wake him up if she stayed any longer in the room, she gathered up her clothes in her arms then left closing the door softly behind her.
    He hadn’t changed much about her living room. Her grey couches still dominated the small space with the multicolored throw pillows strategically placed around them. The bookshelf that faced the large mirror she’d placed on one wall to make the room seem even larger was still there only a collection of thrillers and classic novels had now replaced her self-help books.
    Some part of her was happy that he liked her style enough to keep it but mostly she just felt sad. If he’d changed up some things this wouldn’t feel so much like home and like Eve had ripped up a part of her. Pushing her melancholic feelings aside, Shakira dressed quickly, tamed her hair into a ponytail then called a cab. While she waited, she wrote a note to Nathan promising to get him the rest of his money by the next day and placed the one thousand five hundred dollars her mother had left her on the coffee table.
    It took the cabbie barely fifteen minutes to get her to London’s building.
    “Who is it?” Amani’s voice called out when she pressed the buzzer.
    Oh damn! Who needed this drama in the morning?
    “It’s Shakira. Is London up yet?”
    Amani’s answer was curt. “She’s not in.”
    “Could you buzz me up so I can wait for her?”
    “No.” And the bitch left it at that. No matter how much Shakira pressed on the buzzer after that she didn’t answer. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough that she was doing the walk of shame in last night’s dress and no panties, now she had to wait outside.
    Shakira stood against the wall, looking longingly at Jeanine and wishing she’d carried the keys to the car last night – at least she could’ve waited in it. Luckily one of London’s neighbors came out of the building a few minutes later. With a quick thanks, Shakira darted into the building.
    It was almost as if Amani and Farah had just been waiting for her. As soon as she knocked on the door, it swung open and they shoved the duffel