One magic moment, p.1
One Magic Moment, page 1
ONE MAGIC MOMENT
by Yahrah St. John
One Magic Moment
Copyright © 2004 by Yahrah Yisrael. All rights reserved.
Website: yahrahstjohn.com
First Smashwords Edition: December 2012
Cover and Formatting: Streetlight Graphics
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
In memory of my mother, Naariah Yisrael - my cheerleader and biggest fan.
Chapter 1
He was absolutely stunning. Looking like a Black Adonis molded from clay by Zeus himself. His café-au-lait colored skin was in contrast to his strong African features: proud nose, chiseled cheekbones and sensuously thick lips. The dark blue, three-piece Italian suit he wore with navy-and-white-striped silk tie suited his massive chest and shoulders to perfection. The man exuded a powerful dose of sexuality that would send any woman into overdrive.
He was by far the most attractive man in the room, and, apparently, Nia Taylor wasn’t the only one doing the admiring. She caught the handsome stranger with the sexy bedroom eyes checking her out, too. And while she wanted to look away, his gaze held her steadfast. Nia could practically hear her heart thumping loudly in her chest, could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down.
Finally, she looked away, embarrassed at the attention he bestowed upon her. This was all Lexie’s fault, she thought. Nia had made the big mistake of allowing her best friend to talk her into wearing a cocktail dress Nia had bought during one of their infamous shopping sprees earlier that season. “If you got it, flaunt it,” Lexie had said.
Although the deep burgundy color of Nia’s dress was perfect for a Christmas party, the velvet material of the low V-neck garment overly emphasized her already large breasts, and the short skirt accentuated her wide and curvaceous hips. Nia felt like she was on display for men to ogle. And this one is definitely ogling, she thought, sneaking another glance at her handsome admirer.
At twenty-seven, she knew the look he was giving her. It was the one most men gave when they were imagining a woman without any clothes on. Trying to ignore him, Nia turned her focus back to her best friend, who was standing right beside her.
“Thanks for coming with me, Lexie. I really didn’t want to come to this party alone.”
“Not a problem, that’s what girlfriends are for,” Lexie quipped, “to be your date, when you can’t find a man.”
“Thanks,” Nia replied sarcastically, laughing at her silly friend. She’d practically begged Lexie to accompany her to the Dean, Martin & Whitmore Christmas party after Chloe, her boss, had told her it would be a great opportunity to break bread with the higher-ups. Nia had agreed to go to the celebration only after Lexie promised to accompany her.
The weather for early December had been mild, until earlier that night when light snow began to fall after rush hour, causing traffic to move sluggishly as Nia and Lexie drove to the Whitemores’ home. The roads were slick and Nia had had to brake suddenly several times, causing her tires to grind in protest. After they reached the exclusive neighborhood, finding her boss’s estate through the mist of the snow had been easy, due to the multitude of cars lining the driveway. The butler immediately greeted them and relieved them of their coats at the door. He ushered them into the living room where a large, overly decorated Christmas tree stood center stage. It was clear the Whitmore’s had spared no expense for the party; the place was lavishly decorated with holiday cheer, and the family’s finest crystal and china were on display.
Nia’s colleagues and various higher-ups were decked in their holiday best. The women wore the latest in cocktail fashion and the men sported tuxes. Nia immediately wished she was at home curled under a blanket with a good book and a hot cup of cocoa, instead of being forced to compete for her boss’s attention with all the other hopefuls.
“Ya know,” Lexie continued, “you could find one if you wanted to.” Nia raised a brow in confusion. “A man,” she clarified. That is, if you wanted one. It’s what I’ve been telling you for years. You just have to loosen up some.”
“Does Spencer Morgan ring a bell?’’ Nia asked, referencing an old boyfriend.
“Of course, but all men aren’t dogs like Spencer. Some are faithful. Take my new beau Michael; I’ve got that man’s nose wide open.”
“You are a trip, girl,” Nia said, laughing. “Hey, do I look all right in this dress? I feel like my chest is hanging out for the entire world to see.”
“It is.” Lexie smacked Nia’s hand away from adjusting her bosom. “And you want them to see some of it. Matter of fact, it looks like you have a secret admirer.’’ She nodded her head at the handsome stranger who was walking toward them. In fact, I’ll make myself scarce. I’m going to grab us some champagne and a few more of those delicious shrimp puffs the waiter is circulating,’’ she said, walking away to catch him.
“Lexie, wait!” Nia hissed.
It was too late. She tried to think of a fast getaway before the sexy stranger reached her. Nia caught sight of Chloe out of the corner of her eye and figured now was as good a time as any to start schmoozing. She began her escape, but wasn’t fast enough. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome had blocked her path.
Damon had been listening to his father and Mr. Whitmore discuss their favorite topic—who was the better golfer—when he spotted Nia. She appeared to be very young, twenty-five, perhaps twenty-six. She was about five-five, maybe shorter, with bright eyes, a gorgeous smile and one of the most voluptuous bodies he’d seen in a long while. Damon usually fancied his women more on the slender side, but he very much liked the way her form-fitting dress hugged every delicious curve. Her full and inviting breasts complemented her round derriere, and all screamed to be touched—by him, he thought.
He could just picture that luscious body writhing underneath him.
Damon felt his heart race with anticipation and his manhood hardened with longing. It was strange—he’d never had such an instant attraction to a woman he hadn’t even met yet, but he knew he was going to meet her tonight.
He excused himself and moved quickly across the room.
Wow, is he tall Nia looked up at the mysterious six-foot stranger standing before her. Even in three-inch heels, her head barely reached his shoulders. She drank him in, from his tiger eyes with thick ebony lashes to his glistening bald head. The man oozed masculinity and sexuality.
“Hello, there,” he said, smiling down at her.
His naturally deep voice swirled around her like a tornado. Nia stared blankly for several seconds; she couldn’t believe he was speaking to her. He was just so yummy! Guys like this seldom looked her way.
“Do you like what you see?” Damon queried. He’d been appreciating Nia as well and was happy to have a closer look at this siren. Her short layered mane of dark curls surrounded her pixie face, complimenting her big brown eyes. She had skin the color of honey and her light makeup covered skin he was sure was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Everything about her was beautiful, but it was her lips that beckoned him. Damon wanted to feast on them until his craving for her was completely satisfied.
“Do you always look at ladies like you’re ready to eat them up with a spoon?” Nia asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Damon grinned, showing off an amazing set of perfect white teeth. Nia’s heart thumped wildly and her pulse raced. “Not usually, but then again—”
“Then again, what?” Nia asked, flirting playfully.
“I apologize,” Damon said, extending his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself.” He clasped Nia’s palm in a firm handshake. “I’m Damon Bradley, and you are?” Her satiny skin felt soft to his touch, just as he’d imagined.
“Nia Taylor,” she replied, removing her hand from his solid grasp. In spite of herself, she couldn’t stop her body from reacting to his appreciative male gaze.
“Champagne?” asked a nearby waiter, bringing Nia out of her daydream. Caught in Damon’s spell, Nia had forgotten where she was.
“Yes, please,” she replied, taking a crystal flute of chilled champagne from his tray and drinking a long gulp. It was quite dry and went straight to her head, causing her to cough slightly. Nia preferred the more fruity sorts of wines on the market.
“Good, huh?” Damon smiled as he watched Nia lick a remaining drop of champagne from her upper lip. She couldn’t possibly know how erotic that tiny action was to him. He swallowed and took a deep breath.
“Mmm-hmm,” Nia lied, placing the remainder of her drink on a cocktail table next to her.
“So, Nia,” Damon began. “Might I be so bold as to ask for your number so that you might accompany me to dinner o
Nia’s body wanted to accept the offer, but her mind had other plans. From the way Damon was looking at her, she knew what his intentions were and she wanted no part of his mischief. “Sorry, Mr. Bradley, but I’m not interested in GQ smooth guys such as yourself,” she replied firmly. “But thanks anyway.”
She turned on her heel to walk away, but Damon reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward him. The hungry look in his eyes caused her to give in and she let herself be drawn back to him.
Damon sensed several inquisitive eyes, including his father’s, burning a hole in his back. He disregarded them and focused on the feisty woman standing in front of him.
“Are you always this blunt?” he asked.
Nia looked at the hand Damon still had on her arm. He removed it and looked into her brown eyes, thinking tough cookie.
“I am. I find that honesty is always the best policy in these kinds of situations, Mr. Bradley,” she said with assurance.
“Your candor is refreshing. And please, call me Damon.”
“No need, as we will have no further acquaintance, but have a good evening.” With that, Nia turned again and marched into the crowd before Damon could stop her.
Visibly shaken, Nia looked around the room for Lexie and spotted her chatting it up with one of her male coworkers. Probably weaving her magic spell around the dumb schmuck, she thought heading toward the ladies’ restroom to compose herself. She was so glad Damon hadn’t tried to stop her a second time. Had he felt her pulse quicken at his touch? It was like an electrical charge had shot through her. Her arm still tingled. Did he feel it, too?
Nia found a line forming outside the small powder room. Instead of waiting, she walked through the myriad of people streaming down the hallway and found herself outside on the indoor terrace. It was elaborately decorated with muted red and green lighting; holly and garlands gently covered in snowflakes were placed throughout. Nia could still hear the soft holiday tunes from the party and smelled the scents of pine and eucalyptus. The scene was downright romantic and it reminded her of another evening not so long ago when she’d reluctantly agreed to accompany Lexie to one of the endless fraternity parties being held on campus at Northwestern University.
Nia had grown bored of all the sloshed frat brothers trying to hit on her that night. She knew they all had one idea in mind and that was which freshman girl they could get to drop her panties the quickest She’d gone outside on the terrace to get away from the noise and drunkenness and it was there that she’d met Spencer.
Spencer Morgan. He was a brother so fine, he could make a girl melt just by looking at her. Towering over her at six feet three inches, he was bald with dark chocolate skin and a slightly crooked smile. As president of Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity, star player for NU’s basketball team and head of the African-American Cultural Society, everyone on campus knew him and every woman on campus wanted to sleep with him. Nia was thrilled when he showed so much attention to her that evening, and at the time he hadn’t seemed at all interested in getting in her pants. Seemingly a gentleman, when Spencer saw her shivering outside, he’d offered her his fraternity jacket.
He’d been the first man who had shown her genuine interest and Nia really thought he just wanted to get to know her better. What a fool she’d been. Spencer was a true ladies’ man and knew how to work his game. He’d been very attentive: calling her every day, walking her to class, studying with her. He spent so much time in her dorm room that Lexie, then her roommate, started joking that he should start paying rent.
Nia floated like she was on cloud nine the whole tune they were dating. To have Spencer Morgan as her man was giddy sniff. Until he’d shown his true colors, people on campus had even treated her differently, with respect, as if he were a prince and she his princess.
After several months of hand-holding and intense passionate kissing, Spencer was ready to move their relationship forward sexually. Although Nia’s sheltered upbringing offered her little opportunity to socialize with men, she wanted it, too. Spencer made her feel special and he’d told her he loved her and she believed him.
Her first time wasn’t everything she had dreamed it would be. She remembered the tiny dorm room. She could still see the small twin bed with a blanket thrown over it, the dirty clothes, jock straps and filthy socks strewn across the floor. Intuitively, Nia had known that the evening would turn out differently than the other frustrated nights they’d spent together.
Spencer had quickly dispensed with their clothing before climbing on top of her without any preamble, foreplay or gentleness. There had been no candlelight, no soft touches, no feather kisses. He hadn’t cared that it was Nia’s first time, hadn’t cared about her pain or awkwardness. Spencer Morgan only cared about his own pleasure and release. When he was finished, he had collapsed on top of Nia and she recalled his weight suffocating her so much that she could barely breathe.
“Get off me!” she had finally been able to murmur when she got over her humiliation. He’d rolled off and started to put on his shorts.
Afterward, Nia was so ashamed. Her aunt raised her to wait for marriage and to give her virginity to her husband as a special gift. She’d been willing to forget those teachings because Spencer told her he loved her, but he’d screwed her—literally and figuratively. She couldn’t help the tears that fell as she’d started to dress or the way her hands shook when she tried unsuccessfully to button her blouse. It was then that Spencer Morgan had delivered the final blow.
“Why are you, crying?” he’d asked, pulling on his jeans. “You weren’t that good anyway.”
“I don’t understand why you’re treating me this way,” she said, the hurt in her heart evident in her voice. “Why are you being so cruel to me?”
“Don’t you get it?” he’d sneered. “Most women I sleep with know how to please a man. They give and respond to a man’s touch. They don’t lay there expecting me to do all the work.”
“I—” Nia was horrified as a fresh set of tears spilled down her cheeks. Could this be the same man she had fallen in love with? How could she have been so wrong?
“I guess all the guys were right,” he added. “You are an ice queen.”
Devastated, Nia ran out of his room with her shirt flying open. The next day at lunch in the cafeteria, Spencer sat with his fraternity brothers and completely ignored her when she walked by. She hadn’t known what to expect, but for him to act like she didn’t even exist, to act like he hadn’t just had sex with her, that was the final nail in the coffin. Nia vowed she would never give her heart—or her body—to another man. And she hadn’t.
Nia felt goose bumps already starting to form on her arms. As much as she wanted to stay in the beautiful moonlight with a million stars overhead, it was time to go in. She rubbed her arms, shivering as a gust of cold Chicago wind off Lake Michigan swept over the terrace. There was no point in getting lost in the past, she thought, turning to head back inside. Especially in painful memories that were best left forgotten.
Still standing in the living room where Nia had left him, Damon couldn’t remember the last time his advances were rebuffed. Not many women would turn down his invitation to dinner, he thought she was a pretty gutsy lady, but he would not be deterred. His instincts told him that having Nia’s acquaintance was well worth the effort. Not only had she proven to be intelligent and quick-witted, but she also had a lush figure that called out to everything male in him. He grinned roguishly. He would find out more about Ms. Nia Taylor this evening. Nothing would stop him, not even the lady herself.
Instead of rejoining his father, who continued to glare at him from across the room, Damon decided to get a bit of fresh air out on the terrace before facing his father’s questions. He already knew what his father was thinking. Marcus Bradley hated public displays of affection and never showed them. Yet, in private he could be the most loving and affectionate father anyone had ever seen. It amazed Damon how his father showed two totally different faces: one to the world and one to his family.
