head and he deepened the kiss, addicted to the flavor of her mouth. The never-ending liplock tortured as it teased, and she was so responsive, with sensual movements that made it hard for him to think straight.
He pushed two fingers into her wet body while continuing to plunder her mouth. The head of his erection nudged through the split in his boxers, and his balls ached with the need to bury himself inside her.
“Mami, t’eres un mango,” he whispered huskily.
She reached into his boxers, the warm clasp of her hand gently stroking his engorged manhood. For a few blissful seconds he reveled in the sensations caused by her soft, delicate fingers on his hard flesh. He groaned past the tightness in his throat, the ache to possess her taking on a life of its own as he thrust his hips against her hand.
One time. He only needed one time to satisfy his blinding lust for her, and then he’d be good. But reason returned like a flash of lightning, and he grabbed her wrist.
Glassy-eyed, she stared up at him in confusion.
“Shanice, we can’t.”
“What?” Her heaving breaths brushed his lips.
With regret, Cruz rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He’d gotten carried away. “That was a mistake.” Even as he said the words, his hard penis threatened to revolt.
“I’m not sorry that you kissed me,” she whispered.
He laughed, albeit painfully. He’d regret this decision when he woke up with sore balls in the morning. His behavior was hard to explain, but he tried anyway. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t want to mislead you, Shanice. I can’t give you what you want. There’s no pursuing a relationship—no future for us. When this is over, I’m gone, and you’ll never see me again.”
The hunger in her eyes shrank to nothingness. She withdrew from him and tugged down the hem of his T-shirt. “Thanks for the warning.”
“This isn’t a rejection of you. I’m protecting you.”
“Thank you for protecting me,” she said sarcastically, and rolled away from him.
“Shanice…” He touched her shoulder, but she jerked away.
“Please don’t touch me.”
With a heavy sigh, Cruz fell back against the pillow. He watched the back of her head, desire and regret burning like acid in his gut.
After a few minutes, Shanice said, “I’m not a naïve child who needs to be coddled, Cruz. If you think I expect forever from you, I don’t.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
A few more minutes passed.
“Cruz?” Shanice said timidly.
“Yes.”
“I understand that nothing else can happen between us, but would you mind just holding me?”
Clearly a glutton for punishment, he put an arm around her waist and pressed his face into her fragrant dark hair. He wanted to cup her breast. He wanted to put his fingers between her legs again and touch the slick wetness that was there because of him.
“Are you punishing me now?” he asked huskily.
“No. I just want to be held.”
“This might be the toughest job I’ve ever had. I probably won’t get much sleep lying with you like this.” But he’d love every minute of the torture.
She snuggled closer. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for holding you. It’s my pleasure.”
“That’s not why I’m thanking you. I’m thanking you for being honest. For being kind and not taking advantage. For everything.”
“That’s me, Saint Cruz.”
“I’m serious,” she said softly.
He closed his eyes and accepted his fate. “You’re welcome, Shanice.”
Eventually they drifted to sleep, with his erection pushed up against her plush buttocks.
15
As was his daily custom, Randall Logan sat on the back porch of his two-story Georgian house drinking his early morning black coffee. The stately mansion was his favorite and one of several he owned in the United States.
His affinity for real estate started at a young age when he used to accompany his father to collect rent payments as a child. Back then, his father had owned two duplexes and four quadruplexes, but he had never dreamed of the fortune his eldest child would eventually accrue. The truth was, his father never realized the true benefits of owning those properties.
He was too soft, always listening to the flimsy excuses from mealy-mouthed tenants about why they didn’t have this month’s rent or why they were late. Because of that, he was never able to expand beyond those six properties, and their family struggled financially the entire time Randall was growing up, despite having income-generating assets.
But those monthly visits taught Randall a valuable lesson. To succeed, you had to