Black Butterfly (27 page)

Trish shoved her sandwich in his face. “Here. Bite!”

Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t eat late.”

“Nonsense. Bite it!” she said, pushing it to his lips.

As Todd took a bite, she grinned. “Good, isn’t it? All the fancy dishes we had growing up, but the best delicacy turns out to be fried bologna! Boy, were we deprived.” Todd laughed. “You’ve got a point.”

Trish took another bite from her sandwich and swallowed it. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“You know why.”

“I’ve got an idea.”

“You’re tempting me, walking around like that. Let me get you some boxers.”

“No. I like it when you stare at me.”

“You do? Why?”

“Because I see myself the way you see me. It makes me feel wanted.”

“Well, you have to know that you’re beautiful.”

“As beautiful as your models?”

“More.”

“Kiss me.”

“No,” Todd mumbled.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a temptation for me to want more,” Todd said, staring into her eyes.

Trish smiled bravely. “So?”

“We tried this already, remember?” he asked, touching her hair.

“Well, you know what they say.”

“No. What do they say?”

“Practice makes perfect,” she said, stepping up to him and kissing him on the mouth.

Todd slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her from the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carried her from the kitchen.

“Now, what’s this?” Nolen asked, slipping something round and salty into Sydney’s mouth.

“Olive,” she said, smiling.

Nolen slid his hand through the opening of her shirt and grabbed her nipple, pinching it. She jumped.

“Your hands are cold.”

He said nothing, but she could hear him popping open another container. He brought his fingers to her lips, and she sucked something cold and creamy from them. It tasted buttery and garlicky. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, trying to determine what it was.

Nolen lifted her tangled mane from her neck.

“Give me some more, Nolen, so I can tell what it is.”

Instead of putting it in her mouth, he rubbed the cold, creamy sauce on her neck and then sucked it as he pressed her into the counter. She tilted her head to give him more access.

“You lost,” he said between nibbles.

“No. It’s alfredo sauce!”

“Close. It’s saffron sauce.”

Sydney giggled. “Oh, big difference!”

Reaching across her again, he brought another object to her mouth. Sydney bit into it and gagged. She spat it out, coughing, and he patted her on the back.

“Are you crazy?” she shouted.

He laughed. “Name it.”

“Give me some water!” she snapped, trying to push him away.

Nolen whispered in her ear, “What is it?”

“It’s a jalapeño pepper, damn it. Give me some water!”

He turned her around, and she tried to pull off the blindfold, but he stopped her hand. “Let me taste,” he said, kissing her and forcing his tongue into her mouth. Sydney squirmed. Her mouth was on fire, but she was forced into allowing the kiss. Nolen put his hands on her face and kissed her deeply. The mouthwatering kiss cooled her burning tongue, and she slid her hand downward to massage his erection. She smiled, biting his bottom lip and trying to pull him free of his drawstring pajama pants, but he broke the kiss. “Nope. It’s my game.”

“Enough, Nolen. I’m full!”

“I’m not,” he said, turning her around.

She laughed and put her hands back on the counter to wait for the next bite.

“I’m sorry.” Trish said sadly.

Todd pulled her against him. On the bed he held her in silence, waiting for his heart to stop slamming against his ribcage. He’d never desired a woman as much as he did her now. To hold back on those desires went against the nature of who he was. Yet he resisted. They were close, the kissing, fondling, he even sucked her breast, until she began to resist and fight against him. If he hadn’t noticed she would have probably screamed, she was so uptight and upset. Now he struggled to find the words.

“I’ll go. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Trish, I uh…” She pulled away and he caught her by the arm. “Please don’t leave. Don’t apologize. We can go slow or, we… we don’t have to do it at all. I just want to hold you.” She blinked those soft green eyes at him in disbelief.

He forced a smile. He felt the tension in his chest ease and his erection dissolve. “I swear it sweetheart. I only need to hold you. Come here.”

A bashful smile curled the side of her mouth and she came in closer. He slipped back on the pillows against his headboard and let go a deep sigh. “How about some TV?”

“That would be nice.”

“Yeah, nice.”

“What’s this?” Nolen asked, putting a slice to her lips.

Sydney bit down and burst into laughter as the sour juice splashed into her mouth. “You asshole! It’s a lime!”

Nolen laughed. “Very good,” he said, fidgeting behind her.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled up her shirt to expose her nakedness and forced her feet apart. “Collecting my reward.” Sydney felt him enter her from behind and rose on her toes, strangling on a deep moan of pleasure.

Forced to lean over the counter as he pushed his way into her, the lips of her vagina parted and she took him in deeper. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Instead, she reached for the opposite edge of the island, holding tightly as he continued with his passionate thrusts. Before the release, with her knees shaking and her mouth gaped in a silent cry of pleasure, he withdrew. It took several minutes for Sydney to recover. She lifted her blindfold and turned to look at him from over her shoulder.

“You, Mr. Adams, are quite a man.”

He kissed her lips. “You, Ms. Allen, continue to amaze me. And you taste like lime.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed his nose and then his eyes. “You’ve got to help me clean up this mess!”

Nolen frowned. “Clean up?”

She laughed. “You do know how to clean up?”

“No, leave it,” he said, grabbing her hand to pull her out of the kitchen.

“Nolen, there’s good food out here, and it will go to waste.” She pulled her hand free.

“So? We’ll replace it.”

She put her hands on her hips. “My mama always said, ‘To waste is a disgrace’.”

“You win.”

“Now let’s clean. Then we’ll shower, and I’ll put you to bed,” she said, starting to close up the containers.

As Nolen started gathering fruit and putting it back in the fridge, frowning to show his displeasure, Sydney smiled. She would have to recondition his spoiled bottom.

Chapter 12

Could This Be Love?

Portia sat on the sofa, thumbing through In Style magazine. She had big news—a photo shoot in L.A. in two days for Elle magazine’s spring edition. Today she’d wait for her roommates to find out what was going on with them. Things were already strained with Sydney, and that wouldn’t improve if she convinced Ricky to go public with their affair too soon.

But Trish was her main concern. In the past two years Trish had lived with her, she’d never stayed out all night. Portia had expected to find her on the sofa or in Sydney’s bed the next morning. When she didn’t, her heart had skipped a beat, and a cold sense of dread had crept in. After Sydney’s parents turned off her cell phone she never replaced it. Who lived in New York nowadays without a cell phone? She tried to find Nolen Adams’s number, but, of course, it was unlisted. She located his corporate number on the Internet and left a desperate message with his answering service requesting him to have Sydney call her. If Sydney didn’t call by eleven, she’d go down to Minetti’s studio to drag her out of those rehearsals and force her to help find their friend.

Hearing the double bolt on the door disengage, she closed the magazine and waited nervously to see who was coming through. Trish walked in, wearing her jeans and yellow turtleneck from yesterday. She carried her brown leather jacket in her hand. Her long hair was in a braid down her back. She turned around smiling, but Portia frowned.

“Where the hell have you been!” she demanded.

Trish’s smile faded. “Good morning to you too.”

“I’m serious. I’ve been worried sick! Where have you been?”

Trish tossed her house keys on the table near the door. “I’ve met someone, Portia. Someone special.” Portia rolled her eyes. “Not you too.”

“Listen—”

“No, you listen, damn it! If you’ve met someone, fine, but you don’t run out of here in hysterics and stay out all night! You had me worried sick about you!”

Trish nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You and Sydney have been treating me like the enemy here, and I’m sick of it. I have a lot going on, but neither of you has taken the time to find out what.”

Trish listened, saying nothing. Portia began to pace in front of her, tossing her long hair and flashing injured looks at her friend. “Did you know that I leave in two days to go to L.A.? That I’m doing a spread for the spring line in Elle?”

“That’s great, Portia.”

Portia narrowed her eyes. “Funny how no one wants to celebrate when I do something, but I’m always there for you guys!”

Trish patiently nodded. “I understand, and I’m sorry we fought. I think it’s great news that you’re doing what you want to do, and, yes, we should celebrate.” She crossed the room and hugged Portia. A hug from Trish always made a person feel better.

“I love you and Sydney, Trish. It hurts when we’re so distant. I don’t know what’s going on with us.”

“We’re finding our dreams. All of us, Portia, and it’s a good thing.” Portia nodded. “So you met someone?”

“Yes, and he’s so kind and sweet. He makes me feel special.”

“You are special,” Portia said, touching her face. “You don’t need a man to make you feel that way.”

“He’s a photographer, you know,” Trish said, smiling.

Portia’s eyes grew wide. “Really? Maybe I know him?”

She nodded, but before she could say more, the phone rang. Portia, as always, raced to answer it.

”I’m going to take a shower,” Trish said, heading for Sydney’s room where her clothes were kept because Portia had no extra room in her closet or dresser drawers.

Ten minutes later, Portia hung up the phone and grabbed her purse and keys. Her agent had an immediate call to audition for a Calvin Klein underwear shoot. She rushed into Sydney’s room, knocking on the door to the bathroom. “Trish, I’ve got to go!”

“Ok!” Trish yelled over the shower.

“Will you be home tonight?” Portia asked.

“No!”

Portia smiled. “It’s like that, huh? Well, call me. I want to hear all about him!”

“Ok, I will.”

Portia left, happy that she and Trish were back on track. The only thing left was to find a way to make things right with Sydney.

Todd stood in his makeshift office, wearing a loose-fitting white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and khaki drawstring pants. His usually well-groomed hair was disheveled and in his face as he slipped large glossy photos into a bubbled envelope to send to Vogue for his latest deadline. Hearing his heavy studio door slide open, he knew it had to be Nolen. “In here, man!” he called out.

Nolen entered the office, his face tight with anger.

Todd greeted him with a smile. “What brings you by so early, man?”

“Are you fucking Trish?” Nolen snapped.

Stunned, Todd dropped the envelope. “What did you say to me?”

“You heard me, damn it! I asked if you were fucking her! I saw all those discarded wine bottles and—”

“Don’t question me!”

Nolen blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding. She’s not one of those sluts you bang and toss—”

“Look, man, you don’t have any idea what’s going on with me and Trish.”

“Really? Why don’t you enlighten me, because from the looks of this studio, you lured her here to paint some picture and then screwed her half the night. Am I close?” Todd ran his hands through his hair. “No. Not even close. Let me explain.”

“No need. I told you not to play games with her. I told you to back off!” Todd shook his head. “I’m not playing games, damn it. You don’t understand.”

“I know you, Todd! This girl is young, and she has no idea how you play. I don’t need this shit messing up my thing with Sydney.”

“Wait, your ‘thing’ with Sydney? Are you saying you two are an item?” Nolen pointed a finger in Todd’s face. “Yes, we’re an item, and I won’t have your dick interfering with it!”

“Screw you, man. Trish is different, and I care about her!”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true, and if you’ll stop yelling at me and listen for once, I can tell you!” Parting his dark trench coat and slipping his hands in his pockets, Nolen tilted his head. “Oh, this ought to be good.”

Todd walked around the new desk he had bought to replace the one Portia destroyed. He faced off with his friend of many years. “I know you've seen me at my worst, but you found someone, right? This Sydney has you all in knots, right? How long did it take man, before you knew she was different? My guess is it wasn’t that long. Same here.”

Nolen glared at him and said nothing.

Todd shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “I’ve fallen in love with Trish, and it’s real. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known. I can’t explain it any better than that.”

“Have you told her about Portia?” Nolen asked.

Todd flinched. “No.”

“How long before it explodes in your face?”

“Did you tell Sydney about Portia?”

“Don’t question me! This has nothing to do with Sydney and me!”

“The hell it doesn’t. If she finds out that your best friend hurt one of her friends and is dating the other, how will she react?”

Nolen’s face turned red with anger. Sensing that he was finally motivated by something other than greed and that he’d sacrifice their friendship to protect his new relationship, Todd changed tactics. “Help me, man.

Help me fix this so I can have Trish. I want her.”

“Are you fucking crazy? You don't know her.”

“Yes, I am, and I don’t care. If Trish finds out about this the wrong way, it'll kill her, man. It will literally kill her. That’s why I need your help.”