All the Wright Moves (7 page)

The women nodded in understanding. She shrugged. “What can I say? He’s hot as sin and an amazing kisser.”

A chorus of murmurs rose up. Her smile remained until she met Anita’s gaze. Those dark brown eyes stared at her, astute and assessing. She lifted her brow in silent question.

“When you two going out again?”

Unsure of how to answer, she put another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and ate it slowly. The table fell silent as they all waited for her response. One by one she met their gazes. Anita waited, her foot up on the chair, arm resting upon the knee, spinning the spoon through her fingers, her gaze direct and unflinching.

One finely plucked eyebrow rose. “Well?” Anita pried.

She dropped her spoon into the bowl with a clang. “I don’t know.”

All of her friends frowned. And all she could do was shrug, helpless without any kind of a response.

“Is this because of Darren’s family being uptight bastards?” Bethany questioned.

“It’s a hard thing to forget,” she said by way of admission.

“Bastards!” Yurandol muttered. That comment elicited unanimous agreement from the group of women.

She glanced at them all again—her friends from the days of kindergarten.

Yurandol Blake—single, spitfire, and an attorney for their local field office of the FBI. Dark mocha skin, black braided hair, which fell to the middle of her back, and sparkling brown eyes.

Bethany Donovan—married mother of three, the head librarian at McKingley’s main branch. Red hair in soft waves fell to her shoulders offsetting her café-au-lait skin with medium brown eyes.

Anita Poole. Blonde hair, in a pageboy cut. Tanned skin covered her curvaceous figure. She had her doctorate and taught botany at the local college. Single with killer baby blues.

Connie Velázquez was also a married mother, of two this time. She owned a bookstore. Had spiky hair and flawless copper skin. Her jet black eyes always seeing more than one thought she had.

They were the greatest group of friends anyone could ask for.

“Since when do you let the dictates of others make up your decisions for you?” Bethany asked without looking up, instead dishing herself more ice cream.

Good question.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is,” added Connie. “Either you like him or you don’t. You want to spend time with him or you don’t. This boils down to you, Kat.”

“You’re not a teen. You’re a grown woman who is capable of knowing her own desires and wants. Do what
you
want.” Anita gave her two cents.

A flash of anger sparked at their comments but faded as fast as it had risen. These were her girls, women she trusted to be honest with her. Brutally so, if necessary, like they were being now.

“I know,” she replied with a resigned sigh. “I know. But my heart and brain don’t necessarily want to forget.”

“So you spend the rest of your life alone because of the past?” Yurandol challenged.

Her lip curled. “I’m not the only single one here,” she snapped, sending Yurandol a pointed glare.

The attorney was unperturbed. She stared briefly at her perfect nails before sucking on her teeth. “I’m not the one who was caught getting all hot ’n bothered up at Capri’s. If you don’t want to be with a man who’s not only hot enough for you to break your years of no dating but also get a reprimand from the law for fogging up the windows, pick some viable excuse. A man you say is, and I quote, ‘hot as sin and an amazing kisser.’ Don’t lump him into a category. If he’s an ass, then fine, but if your only complaint is he’s rich—even disgustingly so—that, Katiya Wright, is just stupid.”

The others murmured in agreement and she dropped her gaze to her ice cream remnants. Damn that sharp and spot-on lawyer mind. She lifted her head and peered at each woman, seeing determination on all their faces. They wanted her to find happiness and had no problems calling her out on any roadblock she threw in the way. She also knew they’d be first in line to kick the ass of anyone who hurt her. They had her back and she had theirs.

Reaching for the carton of ice cream from the middle of the table, she sighed. “I really wish you wouldn’t beat around the bush, Yurandol. Stop holding back and tell me how you really feel,” she grumbled good-naturedly.

“Sorry,” Yurandol said with a totally blank expression. “I’ve been trying to be more direct ’n not sugar coat things as often.”

Her eyebrows rose at how calmly her friend had managed to spout that malarkey. “Yeah? How’s that coming along for you?”

Yurandol flipped her off and burst out laughing. “Well…thanks.”

With a harrumph, she dug her spoon into the chocolate ice cream and ate a big bite, forgoing the bowl, before sliding the container across to her friend.

Chapter Four

Warwick watched Katiya surreptitiously from his peripheral vision. She stood with two others, a man and a woman, discussing something. He didn’t know what and he wasn’t sure he cared. Okay, he knew he didn’t care. All that mattered was for the past four days she’d done a bang up job of managing to be too busy for a little one on one time. At least with him. For others, she found time. What little interaction they had, she kept short and professional.

The first day, it had seemed everyone watched them to see if there was going to be a repeat of the happening up at Capri’s. But her cool demeanour had nipped that in the bud. Hell, he was feeling frostbite from her.

He didn’t fault her, though. She was extremely busy. Every night she stayed well past the time he’d finished for the day. Yes, he knew that because he’d swung by her house hoping for an interaction only to not find her there then later seeing her vehicle by the centre.

Katiya.

He ached for her. There was no other way to put it. He ached. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, strip off that ensemble she wore and make long, slow love to her, memorising every inch and swell of her beautiful body. He longed to sink deep with the heated velvet walls he
knew
would hold him like a dream.

His body throbbed and he muttered a curse. Then stole another glance.

She wore a turquoise belted crossover tunic covering a white shirt. The tunic’s belt emphasised her waist and rounded hips—hips made for a man to hold onto as he pounded into her, over and over again until they were both covered in sweat and had no energy to go anywhere. Her pale jeans had turquoise embroidery upon the legs and drew his attention to how much he wanted settle between them. The same hue of blue made up her ballet shoes.

Another round of lust broad-sided him and he barely stopped the groan of need from pushing through his lips. Mouth in a tight line, he tore his gaze from where it lingered over her lush body.
Back to the work at hand.

“Why don’t you just go talk to her instead of standing over here like you don’t give a d…crap?”

His head jerked to the side to see his brother standing there. “You should mind your own business.”

Calix gave him a grin that did nothing to set him at ease. His brother moved to the other side and blocked his view to where he could no longer see Katiya. “Really?”

A low growl worked its way up from the depths of his chest. “Calix…” he rumbled in warning.

The man must have a death wish. Calix looked at one hand and cracked his neck, not in the remotest way worried about the guillotine hanging over his head. In fact, it was like no warning had been issued. “You’ve been moody, Giga. You’re acting like”—he looked around—“like an ass. If you’re going to act like this, go do so at your office. Not here.”

He couldn’t argue that. It was true. He’d been ready to bite anyone’s head off—not a common thing for him. He was a man used to being in control in all aspects of his life. His reaction to not being able to get Katiya alone was unfamiliar and unpleasant. And not doing him any good.

“Right,” he said in a monotone timbre. “Anything else or will you be getting back to work
now
?”

His brother’s gaze twinkled and he looked behind him. Rhia moved around a corner, a scowl on her face as she averted her eyes from the two of them.

Calix and Rhia
?

“What are you up to?” he asked Calix.

“Nothing, brother. Absolutely nothing.” He winked and strode off in the direction Rhia had just vanished.

Right. I believe that, just like I believe pigs fly.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he swivelled his head and frowned when he realised Katiya was no longer in sight. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he rotated his shoulders and strode down the hall to her office. The door was closed and he hesitated briefly, hand hovering over the doorknob. He knocked sharply with one knuckle and just about groaned in relief when her sultry voice poured through the wood.

“Come on in.”

He pushed through, twisting the lock on the handle before pushing the door closed behind him. As she had been the first day they’d met, Katiya sat on one of the two sofas in her office, her legs stretched out on the cushions. She’d removed her shoes and set them on the floor beside her.

He waited until the decisive click from the door had brought her head up from the stack of papers in her lap. Her eyes widened and she dropped the pencil from her hand.

“Wa…Warwick, what are you doing in here?” she asked, her voice slightly breathless.

Nice to know he still affected her. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, a slow, sensual smile lifting his lips. He was content now, knowing he had her all to himself.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Katiya.” He rolled the words off his tongue, doing his best to remain in control of his emotions that seemed to go haywire around her.

Her chin snapped up a bit and her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been working.” She picked up the pencil and tapped the stuff before her with the eraser.

“I’ve noticed.”

“Good. Then do you mind?”

He narrowed his gaze on her and shook his head as he slowly pushed away from the door and prowled towards her. “Yes, actually I do. I mind a hell of a lot.”

She sighed and put her pencil in the notepad then closed it. “Something you need to get off your chest?”

His eyes raked her form. She couldn’t hide her shiver. He didn’t stop until he had one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on the back, caging her in. Her nose flared and she swallowed hard, but she didn’t back down. She’d pasted one of the most bored expressions he’d seen on her. The closer he got to her, the faster the beat on the side of her neck moved.

“Oh yeah,” he growled right before he slammed his mouth over hers.

Katiya remained stiff beneath him for all of a second. Then it was like kissing liquid fire. She melted into him only to explode and meet his passion with a fiery one of her own. Her tongue didn’t wait for an invitation. She just thrust it into his mouth, yanking the reins of aggressor from him.

The sound of papers hitting the floor didn’t even deter him. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her close, revelling in the fact she was in his arms again. Her taste, ever addicting, flowed through him straight to the hard rod in his jeans, making it throb with anticipation.

One hand cupped the back of her neck as he readjusted them so she was on his lap on the sofa. Like in the truck, she shot electricity through him as she rubbed along his straining erection. Her panting and whimpers played havoc on his thread of control.

“Katiya,” he growled against her plush lips.

She slowly backed away, holding his lower lip in her teeth before releasing it with a pop. Her eyes were smoky with desire and her chest rose and fell enticingly with each rapid breath she took.

“What?” Even her voice was more raspy than normal.

Focus.
He had to focus. And
was
he—totally focused upon the full breasts before him, the tunic, which was a gorgeous colour against her skin. Not to mention the way her core was cradled up against him.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

The heat in her eyes died. He could see it replaced with frustration.

“I know this is difficult for you to understand, Warwick Taylor of Taylor Bytes, but my every moment isn’t spent thinking about you. I have a community centre to run. I don’t have others to do it for me. This is my baby. My blood, sweat, and tears were poured into making The Oasis. I oversee it all. This…is my life.” Her words were clipped and the tone could have rivalled Siberia for warmth.

If not for the flash of heat in her eyes, he would have sworn she meant every bit of that blather about how her every moment wasn’t spent thinking about him. It may not be every moment, but he’d bet his fortune it was a hell of a lot more than she wanted him to know.

She began to get off his lap but he grabbed her hips and held her in place. His hips flexed instinctively against her and he was arrogantly pleased when she whimpered and answered with a movement of her own.

Is that how she thinks about me? That I’m all about myself?

“I know, Katiya. Don’t go, hear me out.”

She relaxed but her eyes were wary. He’d been told how passionate she was about her centre and he’d seen her dedication to it, but until this very moment, he never realised how much of herself she actually gave. It wasn’t something she did during the day, turned it off at night and went home. That was the difference between them. He had his business, too, but he had a board who could—and did—make decisions, leaving him to do what he wanted. Katiya had her hands in every single aspect of this centre, ensuring it ran smoothly and giving it her all, every second of every day.

How to say what he wanted to get across? Be blunt.

“I want you, Katiya.”

Those stunning eyes darkened and she pulled part of her bottom lip in her mouth.

Jeez, she’s going to kill me. I’m ready to explode inside my pants. Okay, I need to focus. Get it out. Tell her what you have to say.

“I—”

He placed two fingers over her mouth and shook his head. “Let me finish. I know you feel it. I’ve been watching you like a starving man for the past four days, waiting…no, expecting you to come to me. You didn’t. And yes, when I came in here, I’m sure it was about me. But that’s not what I want. I want it to be about us—
us
, Katiya.”