Donovan said with a smile. He didn’t think he’d be near any restaurants that sold single pie slices, but he would make it happen – not because he was a mama’s boy, but because he was a good son. There is a difference, Donovan told himself.
CHAPTER FIVE
BFF’S
Twenty minutes later Donovan stood on Aunt Ruth’s porch wearing the black slacks, gray shirt and black tie he wore to church that day. His heart was racing, and his palms were moist. He hadn’t been this nervous since he was in high school. He rang the doorbell and wiped his hands on his pants and then stuffed them in his pockets. He pulled them out and adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. He took a step back so that whoever answered could see him in the peephole. But then he thought it would look weird; him standing way back there, so he returned to his original spot.
Get a hold of yourself, man.
That was easier said than done. It wasn’t possible at all when the door opened and Donovan came face to face with the object of his fascination. Kyra wore a black skirt with a sleeveless pink blouse. She had her hair styled in a short bob with one bang concealing her left eyebrow. The skirt was form-fitting, clutching her curves like an insatiable lover. The blouse didn’t offer more than a glimpse of her cleavage, but it didn’t have to. Kyra’s breasts were vast and luscious. She wore a light coat of lipstick and a little mascara. Her eyes were as big and beautiful as Donovan remembered them. Her lips were full and moist, much more enticing than they were fifteen years ago.
While Donovan stood stiffly, unable to get his Hello out, Kyra found herself in similar disarray. She studied all of his Facebook pictures and thought she knew every muscle and contour of Donovan’s physique. But seeing him in real life was a totally different experience. The pictures didn’t do him justice. They failed to capture the intensity of his presence, the fire dancing in his dark eyes.
Donovan was a few inches taller than Kyra in high school, but he must have had another growth spurt after she left. He now looked to be six-foot-four inches tall, maybe six-five. Donovan was slim in the waist, compared to some of his Facebook photos. But even with a long-sleeved shirt on, Kyra could see that his upper body was massive, especially his chest. His trapezius muscles were like two fist-size knots on either side of his neck.
I wish he dressed more casual, Kyra thought. But she knew she’d swoon at the sight of him in a tight tee shirt – or a tank top. Or maybe they could go to a pool, and she could have him completely topless.
Whoa there.
Kyra tried to get her thoughts in check as her eyes swam up his torso, towards his face. Donovan was clean-shaven. The boyish good looks Kyra admired when they were young had evolved into a strong, manly jaw line, dark brown eyes that were almost intimidating even though his lashes might have been the longest Kyra had ever seen on a man. Donovan had a crew cut with a slight fade. His edge-up was impeccable. His lips were delectable.
Before Kyra could formulate a greeting for the Adonis that stood before her, Donovan closed the distance between them and wrapped his strong arms around her. Kyra felt a surge of electricity shoot from his hands to deep inside her core. She gasped, totally unprepared for the energy in his touch. Donovan pulled her closer, close enough for Kyra’s breast to press against his hard stomach. She felt her legs giving way. Donovan’s sweet fragrance filled her nostrils and intoxicated her further.
She grabbed hold of him – she had no choice, and they held on to each other for hours. Or maybe it was only seconds. It was hard to tell. Nothing mattered at that moment except for him and her. Neither of them realized how badly they missed each other until there was nothing between them but heartbeats, heavy breaths and a few layers of clothing that were the only thing stopping this hug from being something much more than friendly.
When he finally released her, Kyra’s head was spinning. She took a step back and wobbled slightly in her pumps. Donovan took her hand to brace her. Thank God she didn’t wear taller heels! She would’ve fallen for sure. That would have been awful