His Sexy Bad Habit (10 page)

“Let me give you a quick tour,” he said, then led her into the living room. The open space room had a huge sectional sofa in the center of the room, a plasma screen TV hanging on the wall and creamy beige carpet covering the floor with a few spots of fruit juice sprinkled here and there. There were two TV trays at the ends of the
sofa. Serena assumed that Antonio and his son ate many meals watching television.

“And through here,” he said as he led her to the kitchen, “is a room you probably wouldn’t have much use for.”

“Ha, ha,” she said as she playful slapped him on the shoulder. Serena looked around the ultra modern kitchen with its stainless steel appliances and marble island in the center of the room. Pots hung from the ceiling. “You’re serious about this cooking thing, huh?”

“Me and my son have to eat and it costs too much to eat out every night. No offense,” Antonio said with a grin. “And A.J. would want McDonald’s every night.”

Serena crinkled her nose. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten at McDonald’s,” she said. “Though I will admit for a while when I was in L.A., that was all I could afford.”

“You lived in Los Angeles?”

Serena ran her hand through her hair. “A long time ago. I had dreams of being a screenwriter.”

“Now, that is a surprise. I would’ve never taken you for the showbiz type.”

“What does that mean?”

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem all business and being a screenwriter isn’t a job or a career I would associate with you. I could believe that you were an actress, though.”

Serena shivered inwardly but kept a smile on her face. “Well,” she said. “I tried acting. It didn’t work out and I stepped back into reality.”

“Did you ever make a movie?” he asked as he led her out of the kitchen and into the enclosed back porch.

“It didn’t work out. Just a pipe dream,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. The last thing Serena wanted to think about were her years in Los Angeles or the movie she’d made with Emerson—the man she had expected to marry and with whom she’d thought she’d rise to the heights of Hollywood royalty.

“Well,” Antonio said. “I’m sure you would’ve been a great actress and would’ve filled the big screen with grace. But I’m not going to say I’m disappointed. If you were a big-time actress, I never would’ve met you.”

She smiled and hoped they’d never talk about her failed acting career again. “So, what’s this?” she asked as she looked around the porch. “Seems real cozy.”

“It is,” Antonio said. “Some nights, A.J. and I sit out here until we fall asleep.”

“Did you build this?” she asked as she took note of the structure and the woodwork on the column.

Antonio nodded and smiled. “I did a lot of the work on this place after Marian died to keep myself from going crazy. It gave me a chance to put a new stamp on the house for me and my son.”

“It must have been really hard after your wife died.”

Antonio’s face went totally blank and he led her back into house. “I’m going upstairs to get my shorts,” he said.

While he headed upstairs, Serena silently
kicked herself as she walked into the den.
Way to go, talking about his dead wife,
she thought as she looked at the pictures on the top of a wooden bookshelf. Serena was surprised to see there weren’t any pictures of Antonio and his wife—just photographs of him and his son. She picked up a picture of Antonio holding the little boy who looked just like him while the little boy held a fish that was longer than his arm. Antonio’s bright smile radiated from behind the frame and the little boy looked just as happy as his father.

“You know, you’re welcome to come on the next trip,” Antonio said from behind her.

Serena returned the picture to the bookshelf, then turned around and faced Antonio. “That’s all right. The thought of touching worms and gutting fish just creeps me out.” She glanced down at his bright orange board shorts and smiled. “Nice shorts.”

He laughed. “Ok, you’ve seen my suit, but where’s yours?”

Serena smirked at him, then pulled off her romper revealing her purple bandeau suit.

Antonio appreciatively drank in her image in the strapless suit. He closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I think orange and purple go well together,” he said, then brushed his lips across her shoulders.

“Really?” she said. “Why don’t we slip out of these suits and find out?”

“Oh no,” he said. “That comes later. Right now, we’re going to get wet.” Antonio placed a sweet kiss on her lips.

Serena groaned and almost told him she was already wet, but she pulled her romper back on and followed Antonio outside. “Wherever we’re going better be worth it,” she said as she climbed in the truck.

“It will be,” he said, starting the engine.

Serena studied Antonio as he drove. The man was as close to perfection as she’d ever seen. From the shape of his jaw to the cleft in his chin, he oozed sexuality. Now that she’d had a taste of him, she was sure she couldn’t walk away even though he had a child and the responsibility that came with being a single father.

There was also the issue of his dead wife. If what Serena and Antonio had turned out to be more than a fling, would she be in competition with Marian’s memory?

Hold up! Relationship? You have been hanging around Jade too long. This is just sex and when I go back to Atlanta, we can call it quits,
she thought.

Los Angeles, California

Emerson Bradford sat at his desk with his feet kicked up flipping through the
Los Angeles Times.
As he came to the entertainment section, his blood began to boil.
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO EMERSON BRADFORD?

He’d hoped that his appearance on
E! News
would’ve killed the
LA Times
story. But it was obvious that the slanderous reporters at the paper wanted to throw more mud on his name. Ever since his last movie,
Style,
flopped at the box office and Thomas Kinney, the movie critic from the
Times
lambasted the film, Emerson had a hate/hate relationship with the paper. He never commented on stories when they called him and he’d even tried to get Thomas Kinney blackballed from movie premieres in the city. It hadn’t worked. No one gave a damn about what Emerson Bradford thought anymore.

As he read the byline on the article and saw that Kinney had written it, Emerson groaned and read what he knew would be another attack on him and his craft.

Emerson tossed the paper across the room. “Damned hack. What the hell does he know about filmmaking?” He rose to his feet and kicked the bottom of his desk. Emerson knew he was in trouble. Whenever people in Hollywood started asking “whatever happened to” you might as well be dead. But he wasn’t going to give up right away. Emerson knew he had an ace in the hole and it was time to play it.

Stalking back to his phone, Emerson pressed the intercom button.

“Yes, sir?” Annette Peterson, his assistant, said.

“I have a mission for you. Go to the archives and find my film
De Chocolat.
”

“What year was it filmed?” she asked.

“Five years ago. I think it’s time to see if I can get this film on the big screen. I’m going to prove to the world that I haven’t lost anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

Emerson sat down and pulled up his Internet browser and typed in Serena’s name. He hadn’t thought about her in years and wondered what she’d been doing. Had she continued acting? No, he would’ve known about it—unless she was acting in New York. He hoped she was a Broadway star and he could cash in on her success. Of course, he’d have to do some additional editing before the movie was released, to make it seem new and current.

He looked at the screen and was surprised to see the first article about Serena was on a business Web site. “Restaurant?” he muttered as he clicked on the link. His eyes grew with excitement when he saw NFL superstar Maurice Goings in a picture with Serena and three other women. Those would be the friends she’d always talked about.

“Well, well,” he said. “Looks like my little muse is in with the NFL. Maybe I should take a trip to Charlotte and see if she still wants to be famous. This might work out for both of us.” Emerson pressed the intercom button again, and then
remembered he’d sent his assistant to look for the print of the film. He focused on Serena’s features. She was still as sexy as when he’d first met her. But the innocence he’d been attracted to was gone. A part of him knew he’d been the one who’d jaded her. Maybe, he reasoned, releasing the movie would make things right.

Emerson folded his hands underneath his chin and pondered what would’ve happened had he married Serena. He’d been wrong to leave her at the altar without telling her why. He’d felt as if he’d failed her. He’d wanted nothing more than to make his beautiful muse a star. But when the studio had balked on releasing the film, his spirit had been crushed and he wondered if he’d made a mistake casting Serena in the lead. There had been no way he could marry her when he felt she’d been the reason his career had began to sputter. It was supposed to be the film that put him on the level with Spike Lee in his early days, or even Martin Scorsese.

The script was fresh and original, nothing like your typical African-American film, thanks to Serena and her crisp writing skills. Emerson had known he was taking a real risk, but it had been a risk he’d wanted to take to elevate what studios thought about black films. He’d grown tired of the social movies. He’d wanted to do something sexy. Hollywood hadn’t been ready and that crushed his spirit—until his next movie, which made box office history.

Though he’d tried to find Serena two months after leaving her at the altar, when he’d arrived at
her apartment in East Los Angeles, she was gone with no forwarding address. Emerson didn’t look for her any further. His life became filled with being the hottest director in Hollywood. Sometimes he wondered if she had seen his success … and if she’d watched his epic fall. As he returned to his Internet search of Serena and read the recent headlines her restaurant had made, he began to wonder if she would be the key to his return to the top.

Serena wiped her face with a towel as she sat on the bench beside Antonio at Latta Park. They’d spent the last hour running through the sprinklers at the park in the blazing sun. She smiled. “This was really fun.” she said.

“I know. I’m surprised this place isn’t crawling with kids. A.J. and I come here all the time,” he said, drinking from a water bottle. “Only he’s not as easy to get out of the water as you were.”

“I’m just resting. Getting ready for round two,” she joked as she reached down and dried her feet. Antonio set his water aside and took over drying her feet. As he massaged her feet, Serena tossed her head back engrossed in the pleasure of his hands against her skin.

“We still have to cook lunch,” he said as he slowly moved up her calf and stopped at her knee. “And I can’t wait to peel that suit off you.”

“Then lunch can wait.”

“No, ma’am. I’m hungry and you need to learn
how to cook,” he said as he ran his fingers across her thighs.

Serena moaned quietly as her body tingled from his touch. “All right, but if you teach me to cook, then it’s only fair that I get to teach you a lesson later.”

Antonio leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’m all for learning new things.”

Smiling seductively, Serena wrapped her towel around Antonio’s neck and brought his lips to hers.

Before she could kiss him, a group of parents and their kids walked by. “Get a room,” one of the mothers hissed.

Serena dropped her head on Antonio’s shoulder. “I guess we’d better go.”

“Yeah,” he said as they rose to their feet. Antonio grabbed their clothes and they headed to the parking lot. Once inside his truck, Antonio stroked Serena’s thigh and smiled at her. “Ready?” he asked.

“Depends on what you’re asking about,” she said as she leaned over and kissed him with a fiery passion that made his head spin.

Pulling back, Antonio looked at Serena with desire flickering in his eyes. “You know, we can order a pizza,” he said. “Papa Johns delivers.”

“What about the cooking lesson?” she asked, batting her eyelashes seductively.

“Dinner, I can teach you how to cook dinner,” Antonio replied, then started the engine and headed for his house.

Arriving at Antonio’s place, he and Serena
leaped from the truck and rushed inside. He enveloped her in his arms and kissed her with the fire that had built up inside him since their kiss at the park. Pushing Serena against the wall, he broke off the kiss and slowly peeled her swimsuit from her sensual body.

Serena placed her hand on his chest. “I want you out back,” she moaned as she slipped her hand inside his shorts and stroked his growing erection until his knees quaked.

Antonio could only nod his head as he began walking toward the enclosed porch.

Once they were on the porch, Serena pushed him back onto one of the plush wicker chairs. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she ground against him enjoying his hardness against her wetness. Reaching down, she tugged at the waistband of his shorts until they were around his ankles. Unwrapping her legs from his waist, Serena eased down his body until her lips hovered over his erection. She drew him into her mouth, making him moan in delight.

He gripped the arms of the chair as Serena sucked and took him to the heights of pleasure. His legs shook as the grips of an orgasm touched his system.

Serena locked eyes with Antonio as she ran her tongue up and down his shaft.

“Damn,” he moaned as he pushed her back. “I have to get a condom. I need to be inside you.”

She nodded, her lips curved into a sultry smile as Antonio rushed inside to grab some protection.

Moments later, he was back with his erection sheathed, ready to take her. He closed the space between them and lifted Serena into his arms, kissing her until he felt her body shiver. As they fell back onto a larger lounge chair, Serena mounted his erection, tossing her head back in ecstasy as he swam in her wetness. Her body throbbed with pleasure as she ground against him slowly. They fell into a sensual rhythm, sending ripples of desire between them that sizzled like electricity as they reached their peak. Antonio held on to her as he exploded. Serena brushed her lips across his neck as she collapsed against his sweaty chest.

He ran his hands up and down her smooth back and smiled as he felt his passion growing again inside her valley. Antonio rotated his hips, hitting her G-spot, making her scream out his name.

“I can’t get enough of you, I can’t get enough of you,” he moaned as their bodies melted into each other.

Serena opened her mouth to say the same thing, but words failed her as her senses were short-circuited by her fifth orgasm. She closed her eyes as Antonio lifted her and laid her on the wicker sofa.

He joined her on the oversized chair and held her tightly.

Serena placed her hand on the flat of his chest. “Wow,” she whispered.

“Wow is one way to describe it.”

Serena looked up and saw the sun was setting. “Looks like we missed lunch.”

“It was well worth it,” he replied as he stroked her arm.

“It feels good out here,” she said as she shifted in his arms.

“Would you like to spend the night? We can put a log in the fire pit and roast marshmallows. Think you can handle that much cooking?” he asked with a laugh.

She playfully slapped his shoulder. “Not funny. Don’t you think it’s a little warm for a fire, though?”

“It’s always hot with you. But around midnight, it will be considerably cooler out here.”

“All right. But I’m going to need some drier clothes.”

“I have a T-shirt you can put on for now, then we can head to your place and the grocery store so we can at least try to cook dinner.”

Serena stroked his cheek and yawned. “You’re so sweet, but I’m so over cooking,” she said with a grin. “I’d be more than happy to watch you.”

“That doesn’t sound fair. The only way you get to watch is if you pack one of those little lacy numbers you like so much.”

“Done.”

While Antonio got up and headed inside to get her a T-shirt, Serena sat up and stretched her legs.

“Antonio,” a female voice called out, then the back door opened.

Serena covered her breasts with her arms as she looked into Casey’s face.

“Oh my God,” Casey exclaimed, then slammed out the back door.

Serena scrambled to find her clothes and burst inside. She was surprised to see Casey walking in the
front
door.

“Antonio,” the women called out in concert.

What is Casey doing here?
Antonio thought as he sped down the stairs with a T-shirt in his hand. Casey and Serena looked up at him and Antonio shook his head. “Casey, what are you doing here?” he asked as he glanced at Serena, who was dressed in her damp romper, looking very uncomfortable.

“Well, there’s no need for me to ask you what you’re doing. And in my sister’s house,” Casey snapped.

“Wait a damned minute,” he said.

“No. What if A.J. had come home and found this tramp naked on the back porch!?”

Serena threw up her hands and said, “You don’t know me and out of respect for this grown man, I’m going to let your insult slide. But you should think about the next words that come out of your mouth.”

Casey placed her hand on her hip and looked up at Antonio. “So, is this why you sent A.J off with Norman? So you could—”

“Casey, you need to give me back my key and then leave, since you can’t respect my privacy,” Antonio said as he crossed over to his sister-in-law. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you.”

“How can you spit on my sister’s memory like this?” Casey exclaimed, then slammed out of the house.

“Do you need to go after her?” Serena asked as Antonio handed her the shirt.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry about that. I had no idea she was going to show up here.”

“Is there something going on with the two of you that I should know about? She’s not worried about her sister’s memory or your son finding us.”

“There is nothing going on with me and Casey, but I’m beginning to think that Norman was right.”

“Right about what?”

“Casey wanting more than just a connection to her sister.”

“She acts like a jealous lover,” Serena snapped. “Is that the cause, because I don’t share.”

“There is nothing going on between me and Casey,” he said. “I was married to her sister and that would be a little too incestuous.”

“Maybe we should call it a night.” Serena said as she pulled Antonio’s T-shirt over her head, then slipped out of her romper.