Page 45 of Brown Sugar
It’s the second night in a row we’ve made a mess of each other. The second night in a row we’re calling the front desk to bring up fresh linens.
We shower together and share in more passion, unable to keep our hands to ourselves.
The night ends with us drowsy in bed. Yet another movie plays—this time the chick flickHow to Lose a Guy in Ten Days—and though we’re watching it, we’re also talking.
Kiana tells me about her ideas for music she’d love to record and release if her label wasn’t so restrictive. I tell her more about my past and what made me join the military in the first place so many years ago.
Eventually, we drift off to sleep.
I’m even more at peace than last night. I don’t open my eyes until it’s well past eight in the morning.
Kiana kisses my jaw as her version of good morning. “I wish we could have another day. But there’s no way.”
“We can still enjoy the morning. You don’t have anything scheduled until later, right?”
“That’s true… I think one in the afternoon?”
“Plenty of time to enjoy ourselves.”
She smiles. “We can make our own mimosas. We have the orange juice and champagne leftover from yesterday. Oh, wait. We don’t have a bottle opener.”
“I’ll call the front desk.”
I sit up and grab the phone on the nightstand. The clerk at the front desk informs me they can give me a bottle opener if I head down. Otherwise, it’ll be another twenty or thirty minutes since they have so many special requests from other guests.
“I’ll run down and grab it, alright?” I lean over to kiss her cheek. I get up and grab my jeans from where they were tossed over a chair. “You stay put, princess.”
She nods and lays back among the pillows, watching me go.
I head toward the elevator before I stop and look both ways down the hotel hallway. Nobody else is around. The premises is secure and has around-the-clock security.
“You’re being paranoid,” I mutter under my breath. The elevator dings as it arrives and the doors glide open. “You’ll only be gone two, three minutes tops. Nothing’s going to happen…”
15
KIANA
“Back so soon?” I purr, rolling over on the bed. I prop myself up by my bent arm, lying on my side, showing off my naked curves for Tyson’s viewing pleasure.
Panic strikes the second the door flies open and someone other than Tyson walks through.
I scream and yank up the sheet to hide myself. “Damn it, Tommy! What do you think you’re doing here? This is my private hotel room! You’re not allowed in here!”
“I’m allowed anywhere I want to be,” he snaps. “Anywhere you go, I go. Anything that’s yours is mine too. I’m your manager. That’s how it works. Put some damn clothes on and meet me in the lounge downstairs. We’ve got some serious things to talk about.”
“Like what? What could possibly be so serious you’ve barged into my private hotel room!?”
“The future of your career. Get downstairs!” he barks, thrusting a pointed finger at the door. I’ve never seen his bald, misshapen head tinge so red before. He pivots on his heel and storms out of the room as quickly as he appeared.
In the silent aftermath, I’m so stunned, I can’t move.
My heart beats painfully fast against my chest. I’m left to lay where I am, fingers still twisted in the bedsheet I’d rushed to cover myself with.
Just a minute ago, I was in the most playful mood. Tyson was going to be back any minute and we were supposed to spend the rest of the morning doing as we wished.
Enjoying each other.
Tommy’s appearance feels like a rock that’s been thrown at my glass house, shattering the illusion I had so delicately built over the past few days and leaving me exposed and vulnerable.