Crazy for You Read online

  “What kind of romance movies do you have?” she cut into their argument.

  “How about Love Jones?” Tiana suggested.

  “Hell yes!” Charlotte scooted up from her slouch position.

  “I was hoping you would say that,” Tiana yelled from the kitchen. “I am so ready for some brother to the night,” she said, referencing the movie’s main character.

  “And right now I am the blues in your left thigh,” Melanie quoted as she walked over to give Charlotte her margarita.

  Charlotte took the drink and saluted Melanie. “Trying to become the funk in your right.”

  “Is that all right?” they finished in unison.

  Charlotte laughed, finally embracing the impromptu girls’ night. She took a deep gulp. Whew! Melanie did not play with the tequila. Even the OJ and the sweet-and-sour mix didn’t mask it. Fine by me.

  “Go ahead and start the movie, Charlotte.” Tiana pointed to the DVD.

  Charlotte picked up the movie from the counter, put it in the player, and pressed play. Soon after, Tiana finished the nachos and cheese dip and joined them.

  Between the drinks, quality friend time, and lusting after Larenz Tate—who had nothing on Jacob Ross—Charlotte was feeling better.

  After the movie ended, the women gabbed about their men. Well, rather, Tiana and Melanie did. Despite her sore feelings, Charlotte enjoyed the behind-the-scenes scoops on how her friends had fallen in love.

  “So let me get this right,” Charlotte pointed a chip at Tiana, “you’re on a sex strike until Nathan agrees to go to New Zealand for your honeymoon?”

  “Yes.” Tiana nodded. “I want to do a set tour for Lord of the Rings.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “Girl, you know you aren’t gonna last more than seventy-two hours, tops. And let’s be real, you’re just trying to punish him for being a diva about the wedding.”

  Sipping a Cosmo, Tiana shrugged. “Maybe I am. I cannot wait to get married. The man is impossible. I kid you not . . . he wants freaking doves released when I walk down the aisle.”

  “He isn’t serious.” Charlotte laughed and then stopped when she read her friend’s serious expression.

  “Oh, and he wants trumpets for when he and his dad, his best man, walk down the aisle. Freaking trumpets! Who does that?”

  “Apparently Nathan,” Melanie answered. “Thank goodness D didn’t need all that stuff.”

  “That’s because I graciously planned your wedding. You’re welcome by the way.”

  “Gracias,” Melanie replied without missing a beat.

  Tiana chuckled. “Not to mention Damien was so happy that he supposedly won you over from your fake relationship with Jake that he hustled your ass down the aisle.”

  “True that.” Melanie sipped without a care in the world.

  Curiosity pricked at Charlotte. She’d always wanted to know the full story behind the fake relationship.

  “What was that all about? How did you get Jake to agree?”

  “It was his idea. He saw how hung up—”

  “Obsessed,” Tiana interrupted.

  “Whatever. Anyway, like I was saying, Jake, being the wonderful friend that he was, suggested we make D jealous.”

  Fake relationships. He’s good at those. Charlotte fidgeted. “When you guys were together, how did he . . . I mean . . . did he treat you like a real girlfriend?”

  Mel shook her head. “No. We barely spoke. We just did the charity gig, and that was it. He was attentive but not like he is with you. Charlotte . . . ” She leaned in closer. “He likes you. A lot. He always has.”

  “Has he?” Charlotte asked. I don’t believe that. Her thoughts must’ve been written on her face because her friend nodded her head.

  “Yes, he has. Before you two hooked up, he always came in earlier than his volunteer time to stare at you during your dance classes.”

  “How do you know? You aren’t there half the time.”

  “But your boss is. As a matter of fact, Damien was going to speak to Jake about staring at your ass. His words, not mine.” She leaned back into her chair. “Said something about setting a bad example with the young men. Although they were looking at you well before Jake Ross.”

  Her heart trilled. Jake looked at me? No, he stared at me. Suppressing a smile, she shook her head before it floated right back to the clouds again. “Be still my beating heart.” Her voice reeked sarcasm, although she was secretly pleased.

  “I know we aren’t supposed to talk about Jake.” Melanie watched as Tiana made a cutting signal at her throat. “But I have to say . . . he is a good man. If he said he wasn’t with the model, then he wasn’t. As a member of the media, some of us aren’t as thorough with fact-checking. And if you look at that picture of them together—”

  “Enough, Mel.” Tiana gripped her glass. “We agreed. No Jake talk.”

  “No, you told me not to say anything,” she snapped back. “And I didn’t agree. Now let me finish because this is important. In the picture, Jake had a full beard, and this was supposedly last week. Did he grow out his beard?”

  Charlotte’s heart thudded in her chest. Shoot. She couldn’t remember. She’d avoided him the week after their trip to Alabama. Jake is right. I am a coward. She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t see him that week. I was, umm, busy.”

  Melanie’s face fell. “Oh, well. I thought we could close the case tonight. I was so sure you would know.” Wow! She looks like someone told her Santa doesn’t exist.

  Placing her glass on a coaster, Tiana sighed. “Actually . . . I saw him that week. It was a week before your charity gig, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, well, as you know, he works with Nathan for the Fiete sports car campaign. We filmed another concept that week, and he was definitely scruff-free. Saw him most of the week, actually.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Melanie hopped from her seat. “You see, Charlotte. He’s innocent. Stupid celebrity stalkers and stupid she wishes she were super, but a basic-ass model.”

  Charlotte was elated. He was telling the truth. He really, really was.

  “Shoot. Now I have to figure out how to apologize. I didn’t outright accuse Jake, but I made it seem like I didn’t believe him.”

  “Because you didn’t.” Melanie wagged her finger.

  “I don’t blame her,” Tiana argued. “He doesn’t have the best reputation, and they’ve only been dating for what? A month.” She shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  Yeah. You weren’t there to see the disappointment, hurt, and anger in his eyes. How he managed to convey all those feelings in his striking eyes she’d never know, but it slammed deep in her stomach.

  “I don’t know, guys. He was pretty upset.”

  Melanie tapped a finger over her lips, and Tiana grabbed her throat and hummed.

  “Is sex on the table?” Melanie asked, her voice drop-dead serious.

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Sex is not on the table,” she lied. It was definitely on the table. She just wasn’t sure Jake would be open to seduction after she all but accused him of being a liar.

  “All right, don’t get your panties in a twist. And don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” Melanie mumbled the last part.

  “Just tell the truth and apologize. If he likes you enough, he’ll forgive you. I suspect he will.” That was Tiana, always the straightforward type.

  Sex or tell the truth. As much as Charlotte loved her friends, they were so unhelpful.

  Chapter Twelve

  Any person that’s decent owns up to their mistakes.

  Big Mama’s wise words echoed in Charlotte’s head as she marched from the subway station to Jake’s place. Her cute, but in no way practical, red knee-length boots clicked against the sidewalk.

  She was trying to own up to her mistakes, but he’d been giving her the cold shoulder. She’d been wrong—dead wrong—about judging him like the media and tabloid readers. She hadn’t believed in him. And that h
ad to hurt.

  After girls’ night, she threw out the unhealthy snacks she’d acquired during their breakup. She wouldn’t rely on food to make her happy, and she wouldn’t allow her insecurities to stop her from living. Time to be brave.

  Thunder rumbled above her head. The gray clouds that had hovered all week were finally cashing in. Rain drops trickled from the sky.

  She quickened her pace. Today wasn’t the best day to make the three-block trek to his place. One more to go.

  “You can do this, girl. Ask for his forgiveness and see if he wants to try again. If he doesn’t . . .” Then bring on the canned cheese. “No!”

  An old woman walking beside Charlotte jumped and then hurried away.

  She tried to shut down the rest of her negative thoughts, but they kept coming. Friends. Friends would be the purple ribbon of participation in a relay race. She didn’t want that with Jacob. She wanted more. A lot more. She wanted him. Every complicated nook and cranny. Even the face that he showed her but hid from the rest of the world. Every night he haunted her dreams. Touching her, taunting her. Challenging her to take his hands and have the wildest ride of her life.

  Icy raindrops raised goose bumps on her skin. Cursing her luck, she grappled her black trench coat around her body and hurried. Just another minute. The rain was getting stronger, and she was sure her hair wouldn’t survive the trip.

  Arriving in front of his condo, she rushed into the building and slammed into a mountain of muscle.

  Gasping, she stumbled backward, bumping into the glass door.

  “Jake . . . I . . . what are you doing here?” What are you doing here? He lives here, you nitwit!

  He removed headphones from his ears. By the looks of it, he was going for a run . . . in the rain.

  “Charlotte. Why are you here?”

  Clutching her coat, she breathed deep. “Can we talk?”

  He stared for what seemed like an hour before finally nodding. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  She followed him to the elevator bays. You can do this. Apologize. Feel him out. If he isn’t feeling it, go to Plan B. Seconds later, they stood in front of his penthouse. He opened the door and waved her in. Clutching her jacket, she hesitated.

  Once she walked into his super-swanky condo, her life would change. An army of butterflies invaded her stomach, and the chicken noodle soup she’d eaten for lunch threatened to appear on his hardwood floor.

  He lifted a brow, waving again.

  You can do this. She stepped inside.

  He followed her in, closing the door behind them. “Water?” His voice was clipped, formal, void of his warm and sensual tone.

  “No.” This is going to go really, really bad. “Do you mind if we sit down?”

  “I’d rather stand, Charlotte. I have plans, so if you don’t mind . . . ”

  Her stomach dropped. Damn, he didn’t want to hear what she had to say.

  “I was wrong.” She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. “You were right. I have insecurities. A lot of them. And I burdened you with them. I just couldn’t reconcile that you, Jake Ross, could want plain ol’ Charlotte Jones.”

  His gray eyes lost the dullness. A flare of anger brightened his eyes. She’d rather have those eyes laughing, mischievous, or eating her alive. But anger was something, better than the blank mask he wore when she arrived in the lobby.

  “When have I ever said you were plain? Hell, when has anyone said that to you?”

  She shook her head. “You haven’t, no. Since we’ve been fake-dating, no one has said it outright. But I read it in the eyes of women we pass when we’re together. They silently question what makes her so special? Why choose her over me? I saw it in every person, man or woman, who smirked when they saw us. Like it was only a matter of time before you dumped me. And the internet . . .” She shivered. “Do not get me started about those comments.”

  Flexing his hands, Jake paced. “It’s all in your head. But a part of me gets it, I do. The thing that pissed me off is that you believed what everyone else said. I thought we had an understanding. I thought you understood me.” He stopped and banged an open hand against his chest. “The real me.”

  “We do have something special, but it’s hard to trust others when you don’t accept yourself.” She moved in closer. This time, she invaded his space. “I was wrong. So very wrong. I want to be honest with you.” She licked her lips. “Can I be honest with you?’

  He nodded his head.

  Pulling the gold Lasso of Truth from her pocket, she wrapped it around her neck. “Here goes . . . I’m not perfect. I love sweets. I have a love-hate relationship with the gym. My thighs touch when I walk. My arms shake a little when I wave. I’ll never have a six pack like Janet Jackson, but I like to pretend one day I will. My butt has a little more jiggle than most. But I’ve realized that, despite all my flaws, I am fearfully and wonderfully made because He,” she pointed to the sky, “made me. And God loves me, just as I am. And for once in my life, I love me. I’m confident. And part of the reason why is because of you.”

  She removed the rope from her neck. “I need you to be honest with me, too. You tried, but I didn’t listen. I’m sorry for that, but I’m ready now.” She walked until she stood directly in front of him. Building her courage, she wrapped the lasso around his neck. “Your turn.”

  Her eyes searched his face, hoping to see something. A drumroll started in her heart, getting louder and more powerful. Cymbals crashed and clanged in her chest, waiting for the coda. Please say something. Please, please say something.

  With a fierce and determined look in his eyes, he gripped the lasso. “I don’t need this damn rope.”

  A mass of nerves and pain rose in her throat, and she swayed from the impact. “Y-You don’t?”

  “Actually, I could use it.” Removing the rope from his neck, he wrapped it around her wrist. “Yeah, that’ll work. And I have just enough to hook you to my headboard.”

  “H-headboard?”

  “You’re mine now, angel.”

  • • •

  Jake tracked Charlotte’s movement. Hands shaking, she gripped the belt of her trench coat and rolled back her shoulders like a swimmer preparing for a deep dive before slowly nodding.

  Man, I hope that means yes.

  Slowly, she unbuckled the jacket, and a flash of red and gold and blue filled his vision.

  The coat fell onto the floor, revealing the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen. Charlotte, his angel, was clad in a tight red and gold corset and tiny blue panties with white stars. My Wonder Woman.

  Stepping over her jacket with bright-red fuck-me boots, she then walked backward to his room. How she managed to convey sexy and innocent at the same time he’d never know, but the outfit was like a red flag being waved at a bull.

  “Damn, woman. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  Shaking her head, she licked her lips. “No I . . . I just want to make love to you.”

  Charging toward her, he closed the distance and grabbed the back of her neck. “No turning back. You’re mine. Say you’re mine.”

  “I’m. Yours.”

  Tilting her head back, he devoured those soft lips. His heart quadrupled in his chest as he sampled her sweet honey. A moan vibrated in his mouth and warmed his chest. Scooping her into his arms, he hurried into his master bedroom, tossed her on the bed, and yanked his shirt off. With hands at his waist to pull down his jogging pants and boxer briefs, his movements slowed when he took her in. “Today we’re going to tick off a goal on your bucket list.”

  “Bucket list?” She scrunched her nose. “I never told you my list.”

  He lowered his voice. “Orgasm.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Oh. I haven’t had that.”

  “Yet,” he growled.

  Surrounded by the black and gold bedspread, Charlotte’s long legs pressed together at the knees. Smooth brown skin, curves for days . . . no, for weeks. A tendril of hair fell over one eye. His hands itched to grab
the curl and wrap it around his fist as he buried himself inside her soft folds. Plain ol’ Charlotte Jones. Her voice echoed in his head, shooting lava through his veins. Did she realize that she was his teenaged fantasy come true? I’ll show her.

  After stripping down, he sank his knees on the bed and towered over her body.

  She crossed her hands over her chest. A vein throbbed in her neck. “What are you thinking?”

  “Whether I want the boots on or off.”

  Her eyes sparked with mischief. “I was hoping I could keep them on.”

  A woman after my own heart. “We’re gonna have so much fun together.” He reclined on his heels and reached to pull her panties past her boots. Wrapping her shapely calves around his waist, he pressed himself against her. He wanted to slide in, balls deep, but he needed to protect her.

  “I’ve got it,” Charlotte whispered. His head jerked up to her face in time to see her pull a gold foil packet from her corset.

  The blood that coursed through his veins rushed to his cock. “Put it on me.” His voice was strained.

  “Are you sure?” She wrinkled her brow. “I don’t have a lot of experience with all of this.”

  “Very sure, baby. Slide it on and pinch the tip.”

  Her fingers shook as she tore open the foil packet. He groaned when her soft hands grabbed hold and slid the rubber from tip to base. Rising to his knees, he took in her corset. “I’m gonna rip it.”

  “No!” Charlotte raised a hand and leaned forward. “It has a zipper in the back.” Soon, brown, taut peaks spilled from the top.

  He palmed the brown mounds. She sucked in a shaky breath. Lowering his mouth, he took a soft bare breast and flicked his tongue. Gasping, she threw her head back.

  “Jake! Please!”

  He maneuvered them so that she was on top and he on his back. “Ride me, angel.”

  She looked down at herself, then worried eyes flitted to his. She sucked in her stomach. “I . . . ”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “Whatever it is that you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it.” He slapped her ass. “You’re gorgeous, and you’re mine. Now fuck me.”