Chapter 5

“You’re so tight, Ngozi.”

“I feel you. I... I... I feel it. I needed this. I needed this.”

Ngozi shivered at the hot memory and then was flooded with embarrassment, raising her hands to press her palms against her cheeks. She had begged the man to please her. Making love with Chance atop that island had been so out of character for her. Not Miss Prim-and-Proper. Not Miss Perfect.

But...

It had felt so right. So good. So necessary.

But that didn’t take away from her unprofessionalism. She had broken her one rule of not mixing business with pleasure. For that, she was disappointed in herself and ashamed.

But...

At odd moments through the last few days and each night, she had thought of him, inside her, riding her, pleasing her...and she wanted more.

“Whoo,” she sighed, releasing a shaky breath as she leaned back in her chair in her office at VAL and closed her eyes, hoping to abate the steady throb of her femininity and the hardening of her nipples as her arousal came in a rush at the very thought of Chance Castillo and every delicious, long, curving inch—

“Mmm.”

She popped up out of her chair, her eyes wide, and pressed the back of her hand to her lips, surprised by her own moan of pleasure. She looked out the glass wall of her office and was happy no one had noticed her startled reaction. She smoothed the fitted black lambskin dress with embroidered pocket she wore before reclaiming her seat with a shake of her head.

“Come on, Ngozi. Gather yourself,” she said, reaching for her conference phone to hit the button for the speakerphone before she dialed an extension.

“Yes, Ms. Johns?”

“Hello, Roberta. Can Larry take a quick call?” she asked the legal secretary of Larry Rawlings.

“Sure thing. Hold on, I’ll transfer you in.”

Beep.

He was on the line within a second. “Yes, Ngozi?”

“Hey, Larry, I just wondered if Mr. Castillo followed up with you,” she said, shifting her gaze out at the sun beginning to set beyond the towering Manhattan buildings.

“Yes, he did. Matter of fact, a messenger just dropped off a folder of receipts with a detailed outline of dates,” he said. “We have an appointment to meet next to get the ball rolling.”

In her haste to leave Chance’s home she had left the folder of information behind.

“Good,” she said, confused by her disappointment. “Thanks for picking up the ball for me, but I know you will get the job done, and hopefully the firm will be able to cover some other interests for Mr. Castillo, as well.”

“I’m on it.”

“Thanks, Larry. Enjoy your weekend.”

She ended the call.

Chance had moved on. There had been no calls or attempts to finagle more of her time. There was no more chasing to be done.

Ngozi winced as she thought of his annoyance at her. She could understand.

So not only are you making me feel bad for giving you exactly what you said you needed, but you also won’t rep me anymore.

Glancing at her watch, she rose and retrieved her black wool and lambskin belted jacket from her closet before grabbing her clutch and portfolio, as well. She quickly began packing files into the crocodile briefcase.

“Good night, Ms. J.”

She glanced up at Angel with a smile. “Have a good weekend,” she bid her assistant, before returning to her task. Suddenly, she looked up. “Not too good. You’re on probation.”

“Yes, I know. You remind me every weekend,” she said. “What do you have planned? Any fun?”

Ngozi looked taken aback. “I have fun, Angel,” she said.

Three days ago, I had plenty of it atop an island in the middle of a kitchen.

Her personal assistant looked disbelieving.

“As a matter of fact, tonight I am attending a charity dinner and I’m looking forward to it,” she lied.

Alek and Alessandra had purchased a few tables in support of a charity benefiting inner-city youth. The odds were in favor of Chance being in attendance, as well. Their seeing each other was inevitable. They shared a godchild and friends.

What if he brought a date?

Ngozi came out from around her desk. “I am headed home to find just the right outfit,” she said as they walked down the length of the office together to the elevator.

Chance stood at the entrance of the open brass door leading into the grand ballroom of midtown Manhattan’s Gotham Hall and took in the sight of the elegant decor with bluish lighting that highlighted the gilded ceiling with its stained glass center and the oval-shaped room’s marble flooring. It was as beautiful as every other gala event. Tables set. Flower arrangements centered. Candles lit. Music playing. Gourmet food ready to be served. Drinks prepped to be poured. Attendees mingling in their finery.

He was bored.

He was better with writing the check and wishing the charity well, and didn’t need the pomp and circumstance surrounding it. It all was a bit much for the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, but alas, he had long since learned to play the role. To show up. Write the check. Rub shoulders. Advance.

And then find his fun elsewhere.

He spotted Alek at the large bar and made his way toward him, weaving his way through the crowd of people filling the large room. “Good to see familiar faces,” he said.

Alek turned, and they shared a handshake.

“Right,” Alek said. “Thanks for coming. I know this is not your thing. Why’d you change your mind?”

Chance shrugged before leaning against the bar and looking about the room.

“No date?”

At that moment, Chance spotted Ngozi as she stepped into the open doorway of the ballroom. His heart instantly pounded at the sight of her in the floor-length illusion gown with a fringe skirt and plunging neckline lined with lace scalloped edges that made her décolletage all the more appealing. Damn.

Memories of nuzzling his face in that soft spot between her breasts as he made love to her came in a rush. Flashes of hot moments they shared in his kitchen replayed—the same memories that had plagued him since that evening. In that moment, she brushed her sleek hair back from her face and entered the ballroom. Any hints of the anger he once held for her faded like a fine mist.

He missed her.

He wanted her.

And it took every bit of strength contained within him not to call her. To accept that the heated moments they shared had been a mistake, just as she had said.

He didn’t believe that. The energy and excitement he felt in her presence was like nothing he had ever experienced with any other woman. Not even Helena.

And the sex?

His gut clenched.

He thought he’d gone mad in those furious moments as he climaxed inside her.

His eyes were on her as she made her way across the room. He watched as she reached the table. Alessandra rose to greet her, and the two women hugged each other, exchanged words and shared a laugh.

Alek turned and pushed a double shot of tequila into Chance’s hand.

“Huh?” he said, looking down at the drink in surprise before taking it from his friend.

“There’s Ngozi,” Alek said, sipping from his drink with one hand and holding a flute of champagne with the other. “Wow, that dress is unforgettable. I wonder who she’s trying to tempt tonight.”

“Me,” Chance answered, looking on as both Ngozi and Alessandra looked across the room toward them.

“Huh?” Alek said, frowning. “Am I missing something?”

“Plenty,” Chance said before taking a deep sip of his drink.

“Care to fill me in?”

“Nope.”

“Cool,” Alek said, motioning for the bartender. “Another flute of Dom, please.”

With drinks in hand, Chance eyed how the blue lights reflected so perfectly against her dark complexion and highlighted her back in the low cut of the dress. “Why is she so damn fine?” he asked, accepting that his nerves would forever be shot in her presence as he neared her.

“I couldn’t answer that because I got a hella fine one my damn self,” Alek said, giving his wife an appreciative eye in the strapless white dress she wore with a large statement necklace of gold.

“Hello, Ngozi,” he said.

She turned and looked up at him. “Chance. How are you?” she asked, accepting the flute he handed to her.

Their hands lightly grazed each other, and their eyes locked.

And there it was again. Big. Bold. Undeniable. Constant.

Chemistry.

Ngozi barely heard the live band’s rendition of Minnie Riperton’s “Loving You” as she tried her best not to stare at Chance, but they both seemed to be failing at it. She would look at him, he would look away. She would feel his eyes on her, like heat, but when she glanced in his direction, his attention was elsewhere.

Several times she caught both Alek’s and Alessandra’s eyes shifting back and forth between them. Her heart was pounding so rapidly that she feared it would outpace her and send her into a total blackout. And when Chance rose, tossing his linen napkin on his untouched food, and came around the table to extend his hand to her, she pursed her glossy lips and released a breath filled with all her nervous anxiety.

She looked up at him, down at his big beautiful hand, and then back up at his face, knowing that sliding her hand in his was much more than an invitation to dance.

“Come on,” he mouthed.

She couldn’t resist.

“What am I missing?” she heard Alessandra ask from behind her.

“Hush, baby,” Alek suggested.

Ngozi hung her beaded egg-shaped clutch around her wrist and accepted Chance’s offer. Her hand was warm where they touched as he led her onto the dance floor beneath the oscillating lights. He stopped and gently tugged her to pull her body close to his. She settled her arms across his back as he settled his around her waist. The top of her head came to his chin, and as they danced, their bodies seemed to fit. To work. To click. Like lock to key.

He dipped his head. “Still don’t need me anymore?” he asked near her ear.

She leaned back to look up at him. “Chance,” she whispered, her resolve sounding feeble to her own ears.

“I came here tonight looking for you,” he admitted.

“Really?” she asked, acutely aware of how warm his hand was against her bared lower back.

“And you wore this dress tonight for me, la tentadora. Right?”

The temptress.

Yes, her dress fit that bill.

She looked away from him and licked the corner of her mouth. “In case you brought a date,” she confessed, arching her brow as she tilted her head to look up at him once again.

He chuckled. It was deep and rich.

“Your hand feels good rubbing my neck.”

Ngozi lowered her hand to his back once more, not even realizing she had been stroking his nape with her fingertips. It felt natural showing affection toward him.

He held her arm high in the air and slowly danced around her before pulling her back into his embrace and then spinning her out and reeling her back in to him. “You should smile more often, Ngozi Johns,” he said.

“I haven’t had much to smile about in a really long time,” she admitted, surprised by her candor.

“Me either,” Chance said. “So let’s have fun together. Nothing serious. No ties. Just fun.”

Why does that sound so good to me?

“Your caveat about not dating clients no longer fits, because you no longer represent me,” he reminded her.

That’s true.

“I don’t know, Chance,” she said, allowing herself to stroke his nape again.

“Okay, think about it, but let me offer this?” he began, trailing his finger up her spine.

Ngozi shivered and her nipples hardened as all of her pulse points throbbed—including the now-swollen bud nestled between the lips of her core. “What?” she whispered, her eyes falling to his soft mouth.

“Let’s have fun tonight and worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

Ngozi always put what was right before what she wanted. Always. With her parents. With her marriage. With her career.

Sometimes being so damn perfect was so damn tiring.

“I need it,” he moaned near her ear, his breath lightly breezing against the lobe.

She feigned indignation. “Really, you’re playing the need card?”

“You played it first. Remember?”

“I haven’t been able to forget.”

They shared a laugh that was all too knowing.

“It was fun,” Ngozi acknowledged, her body trembling.

“Damn right it was.”

“Let’s go,” she said, stepping back from him.

“We’re gone,” Chance agreed, grabbing her hand as they made a hasty retreat toward the door.

Ngozi sat up on the bed and ran her hand through her tousled hair as she looked down at Chance’s nude body sprawled out beside her. The contours of his body were defined by the silver moonlight through the open curtains of the hotel suite’s balcony doors. The soft buzz of his snores was thankfully muffled by the pillows over his head.

He deserves his rest.

She shook her head in wonder at his skill as she reached for her iPhone on the bedside table. She held the lightweight cover across the front of her body as she rose from the bed gently and stepped over her $3,000 gown carelessly left on the floor in their haste. As she made her way to the open balcony doors, she dialed her parents’ landline phone number, tapping the tip of her nail against the rose-gold sequin as it rang.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Reeds,” she said, hating that she felt like a high schooler sneaking out for the night.

I am a successful over-thirty-years-old attorney—

“Is everything okay?” the house manager asked, his voice filled with concern.

“Everything’s fine, Reeds. Everything okay there?” she asked, looking out at the moon shining down on the New York skyline.

“Same as always. Your parents already turned in for the night.”

“Thank God. I thought they would wait up for me.”

“They asked me to do it,” Reeds admitted with a chuckle. “No one is roaming about this time of night but me and one of your father’s Cuban cigars.”

“Enjoy your cigar and go to bed,” Ngozi said. “I’m staying in the city tonight.”

“Okay. Be safe. Good night, Ngozi.”

“Night,” she said softly, hating the relief she felt that she had dodged talking to either of her parents.

“Should I be jealous?”

Ngozi whirled, causing the blanket to twist around her legs as she eyed Chance rising from the bed to walk over to her. She ran her hand through her hair, failing to free it of the tangles created during their love play. “No,” she said, looking up at him as he stood before her, naked and beautiful in the moonlight. “Because this is only for the night. Remember?”

“Give me the weekend,” Chance requested. “We can fly wherever you want in the world. Name it. It’s yours.”

Ngozi shook her head, lightly touching her kiss-swollen lips with her fingertips. “I can’t.”

He bent his strong legs and wrapped his arms around her waist to heft her up. She had to look down into his upturned face, and gave in to the urge to stroke his cheek. “Paris. Dubai. Italy,” he offered. “Ibiza, Antigua, French Riviera, Bora Bora...”

Chance paused and smiled.

“Your life is different from mine, huh?” she asked.

He bent his head to press a kiss to her clavicle, then drew a circle there with his tongue.

Ngozi let her head fall back, the ends of her weaved tresses tickling the small of her back. “I haven’t had a break in a long while,” she admitted with a sigh. “And I do carry my passport in my wallet.”

Chance carried her over to lay her on the bed, and then grabbed the blanket to pull off her body and fling onto the floor.

Feeling flirty, she rolled over onto her stomach and glanced back at him over her shoulder as she raised her buttocks. Her smile spread as he became erect before her eyes. He really is all kinds of perfection.

Chance lightly held her ankles and slid her body across the bed until she was bent over it. He reached onto the bedside table for one of the dozen foil packets of condoms. She watched him roll the ribbed latex down his length before she closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. The warmth of his body radiated as he knelt behind her and curved his body against hers as he licked a hot trail up her spine and then lightly bit her shoulder. And when he spread her open and guided every inch of his hardness inside her, she grimaced and clutched the sheet in her fist as her body tried to conform to the fit and hard feel of him.

“Chance?” she said, looking back at him as he stroked inside her, slowly enough for her to take note of each inch as it went in and out of her.

“Yeah, baby,” he said, looking down at the connection before tilting his head to the side to give her his attention.

“Not so deep,” she said, closing her eyes. “I don’t need all of it. I’m good.”

He chuckled a little as he pulled out some. “Better?” he asked, biting the side of his tongue.

She relaxed her body with an eager nod.

He slid his hand around her body and pressed his fingertips against her moist and swollen bud, gently stroking it as he thrust inside her.

Ngozi’s eyes and mouth widened.

“I thought making you come a couple times make up for it,” he said thickly.

“A couple?” she asked with a lick of her lips.

“Oh yes,” he stressed.

“Oh my.”

She chose Italy.

Chance eyed Ngozi standing there on the balcony of the sprawling villa he rented in Sorrento off the Amalfi Coast. Her arms were splayed as she gripped the railing of the private balcony off their palatial bedroom as she overlooked the gardens, the grass-covered mountains and the nearby bluish-green waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Her hair was loose, and she wore a red strapless maxi dress that clung to her body when the wind blew.

He found her so breathtaking that he paused his steps as his pulse raced and his heart pounded.

She turned and smiled at him at the exact moment that the sunlight framed her from behind, bringing to mind dark chocolate lightly dusted with gold powder.

Ngozi Johns was trouble.

Forcing a smile, he continued over to her, handing her the goblet of white wine he carried. “A little fun isn’t so bad, right?” he asked, leaning back against the railing as he sipped from his snifter of tequila.

“Yes, but too much is not for the best either,” she countered.

“Here’s to balance,” he said, raising his snifter.

“To balance,” she agreed, touching her glass to his.

Chance looked beyond her to the downtown area of Sorrento in the far distance. “I still can’t believe you agreed to stay through Monday,” he said.

“I can’t believe you made it worth the extra work I will have on Tuesday to catch up with my crazy workload,” Ngozi said, moving away from him to lie on one of the lounges.

He watched her drape her hair over one shoulder before extending one leg and bending the other as she closed her eyes and let the sun toast her flawless skin a deeper shade of brown.

From the moment they had arrived in Italy on his jet, they had squeezed in as much sightseeing, fine foods and fun as they could during the days, and fell into that heated abyss they created throughout the nights. They were scheduled to leave tomorrow afternoon, and for him it was a mixed blessing.

He didn’t trust how she made him feel.

The stain Helena had left on his life and his belief in his instincts was ever present.

“Can I ask you something?” he called over to her, seeking refuge from his thoughts.

Ngozi waved her bent leg back and forth as she looked over at him. “I’m a lawyer. Questions are my life,” she said.

Chance took a sip of his drink, looking at her over the rim of the crystal as he closed the short distance between them to sit on the lounge beside her. “The first time, in my kitchen, why did you run away like that?” he asked. “We were both lying there caught up in a damn good moment, and it made you run?”

She reached for her wine and took a deep sip as if stalling for time or gathering courage.

He said nothing, patiently waiting for an answer to a question that had remained with him since the moment she fled.

“In that damn good moment,” she began, not meeting his eyes, “I felt guilty that the first time I ever climaxed in my life was with someone other than my husband.”

First time?

“It felt like a betrayal,” she continued. “It felt like that damn good moment overshadowed my entire sex life with him. So, it was glorious and shocking and damn good and...hurtful.”

“And now?” he asked, not really sure what to say.

Ngozi leveled her eyes on him. “Still damn good,” she admitted with a smile, sliding her leg onto his lap.

“Still hurtful?” Chance asked as he turned to straddle the lounge chair facing her. He ran his hands up the smooth expanse of her legs, from her ankles to the V at the top of her thighs.

“I’m getting better with it,” she said softly, her chest rising and falling.

He took note of her reaction to him and tossed the edge of her dress up around her hips, exposing her clean-shaven mound and her core to him. “And are you satisfied?” he asked, bending to bless each of her soft thighs with a kiss.

He felt her tremble as she softly grunted in pleasure.

“Each and every time,” Ngozi confessed, setting her wineglass down before she reached over to smooth one hand over the back of his head.

“Then let me go for a perfect record,” he said, his words breezing against her core in the seconds before he suckled her clit into his mouth.

Ngozi descended the stairs from Chance’s jet, giving him a smile of thanks when he extended his hand to help her down off the last step. Hand in hand, they walked across the tarmac to the two black-on-black SUVs awaiting their arrival.

The extended weekend was over.

She could hardly believe the whirlwind of it. The shopping for clothes and undergarments, the long flight to Italy, the sightseeing, the delicacies, the lovemaking and so much more. It seemed like much longer than three days.

It was over, just as they had agreed.

At the first SUV, she turned and faced him. “Thank you for the escape. Thank you for giving me what I didn’t know I needed, Chance Castillo,” she said.

“Same here.”

His eyes dipped to her lips.

She licked them.

“Can we say goodbye to what we shared with a kiss?” he asked.

She stepped toward him and rose up on the tip of her toes to cover his mouth with her own.

He moaned as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, picking her up to level their mouths as he deepened the kiss.

With regret, and a few soft touches of their lips, Chance and Ngozi ended it, both stepping away.

With one last look at him, she turned and allowed the driver to open the rear door so that she could climb onto the leather seat. With one last wave, she faced forward and was proud of herself for not looking back as the driver closed the door and drove the vehicle away.

Chance’s mansion was quiet and dimly lit. He found the setting necessary as he struggled with his thoughts. From the time he was a poor kid with wealthy classmates up until the moment he sold his app, he had always relied on his guts. That all changed when the woman he thought loved him revealed her betrayal.

The last thing he wanted was another relationship. Another opportunity to be burned and betrayed. Embarrassed. Disrespected.

But I miss her already. I miss Ngozi.

He wasn’t ready to pretend that nothing had happened between them. With her, there had been no thoughts of Helena and the havoc she’d wrought on his life. With Ngozi, he had felt lighthearted again. He’d had fun.

Security check. Front exterior gate.

At his alarm system sending out an alert, Chance picked up the tablet on the sofa where he sat in the den. He checked the surveillance video. At the sight of the car sitting there, he squinted even as he tapped the screen to unlock the gate.

Dropping the tablet back onto the couch, he rose and made his way across the expansive house to the grand foyer. He pulled one of the front double doors open and stood in the entrance as he watched her climb from her car and walk over to the front steps to look up at him.

“I thought maybe for a little while longer, we could have some more fun together,” Ngozi said, climbing the steps to lightly trace the ridged grooves of his abdomen with her finger.

Without a word, Chance captured her hand in his and turned to walk back inside his home with Ngozi close behind him.