Zuri Day - Decadent Desire

“Ah!”

Her cry of pleasure made him smile as he continued to cherish every inch of her body with the same focus and attention to detail that he applied in professional life. Positioning himself between her legs, he scooted farther down, planted kisses on her pelvis, down her inner thighs, his tongue on a languid journey down the length of a leg solid and defined from years of lessons in tap, modern and jazz. She pulled her legs up and away from him, parted them in a perfect inverted split in the air. Her exposed, rock-hard pearl sent a clear message of what she wanted next.

He got the memo and without hesitation drew the nub into his mouth and then plunged his tongue inside her. Swirling, tickling, licking her joy trail as though it were chocolate ice cream. She ground herself against him. Short bursts of breath hinting of her impending climax. Just as she erupted, he replaced his tongue with several inches of hard passion and continued loving her.

Julian wasn’t a dancer, but one couldn’t tell. A disciplined workout regimen and martial arts training kept his six-foot-one-inch frame in shape, ready for several rounds of lovemaking. Finally, after Nicki’s third orgasm, he gave in to his own shuddering release. A thin sheen of perspiration covered them both as he folded back the flowered spread, pulled away the cool white top sheet and covered them.

“See how much I missed you?” he asked, using his finger to smooth strands of dampened hair behind Nicki’s ear.

“I felt how much.” Her face was turned away from him, but Julian heard the smile in her voice.

“You sure I can’t talk you into leaving New York, moving to the West Coast and ending this notion of a long-distance relationship? I can’t see not having you, not having this—” he caressed her booty “—on a regular basis. Can you?”

Nicki turned to face him. “I almost died this month without having you around to do what you do, and very well, I might add. Of course I want to be with you. But you know I can’t. I’m not the lead in this show, but it is Broadway. When are you coming to see the show?”

“I don’t know, but I’d love to be there opening night. When does it start?”

“Next month.”

“August? Isn’t that unusual?”

“It’s rare. Most shows open during the fall. We’re hoping that being one of the few new shows next month will translate into a strong box office showing. What about you? Ready to open for business?”

“I already have a few clients. The office will open in two to three weeks, depending on how quickly I can hire an assistant. Mom worked with an interior designer friend to create the type of environment I want—professional and relaxing at the same time. It’ll be finished by the time I get back in town.”

“From here?”

“No, from Chicago. I fly there for a conference that begins on Wednesday.”

“Office up and running, clients on the schedule. Sounds like the transition from intern to private practice was easy.”

“There were challenges.”

“Obviously none you couldn’t handle.”

He smiled, swiped the tip of her nose. “What’s your point?”

“The point is that you can make opening night, maybe even bring some of your family along. It’s going to be a great show. The Rapunzel fairy tale has been done before, but never like this.”

“With Rapunzel rapping her lines? I think not. Bet those DJs in the ’70s talking over beats had no idea what a revolution in music they were creating, a style that would end up on Broadway and take over the music world.”

“The genre has definitely outlasted its critics. The show involves hip-hop, jazz, even country. It will appeal to a wide audience, which is why I think the chances of A Hair’s Tale succeeding on Broadway are very good. It’s a limited run right now. Only sixteen weeks. But if it remains as popular as it is now, the show can get extended indefinitely. Have an unbelievable run, like The Lion King, Phantom and Cats. As long as it’s on Broadway, I want to be playing my role!”

“You’re dramatic.” A caress suggested it was a part of her that he enjoyed. “I’ll tell them about it, see if they want to join me.”

Nicki turned, her gaze loving as she took a finger and outlined Julian’s thick brows, his aquiline nose and Cupid’s bow lips. “Thank you, Doctor,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, my private dancer,” he cooed, brushing his hand across her long, silky tresses before pulling her into his arms, kissing her deeply and silently vowing to find a way to permanently shorten the distance between them.

Chapter 2

Julian Drake, PsyD. A bit pretentious, Julian thought as he stopped and observed the gold-and-platinum name plaque on the door of his practice. His mother had purchased and mounted it as a welcome-home surprise, along with the office suite they’d given him for earning his psychology doctorate earlier than most and breezing through an eighteen-month internship with ease.

He appreciated the gesture, even though the nameplate wasn’t his style at all. A plain black plastic slider with white lettering would have been fine with him, and the office suite had a few more rooms than he needed. Especially now while just getting started. His parents, Ike and Jennifer, were understandably proud, and ecstatic that he’d decided to open his practice in Paradise Cove instead of on the East Coast as Nicki had wanted. That she hadn’t joined him was a disappointment for his family and devastating for him. His family loved Nicki. Her tomboyish ways with his brothers helped her fit right in, and her knack for style with a bohemian edge, along with being a professional dancer, made for a lot in common with his sisters. Jennifer had even approached Nicki with the idea of periodic dance workshops at the Drake Community Center. As much as he’d wanted it, Julian knew the chances of Nicki relocating with him was a long shot. After she got a major role in a Broadway show, he knew there was no shot at all. The entertainment world was all abuzz about the talented young writer who’d created the show and the composer who’d scored the work. His sister had even heard about it. When Julian told London about Nicki’s invitation, she’d excitedly asked to join him, but the preview shows were sold out.

Julian was eager to get his practice up and running. The busier he was, the less time he’d have to think about how much he missed Nicki.

His cell phone vibrated. Had he thought her up? Retrieving it from his jacket pocket, he unlocked the door while answering the call.

“Dr. Drake.” He hit the speaker button and continued through the reception area to the spacious corner office he occupied.

“Yes, Doctor. This is Natalie Moore from Superior Staffing. You left a message with our service last night requesting a call.”

Julian immediately recognized the voice. “Natalie as in the Nat Pack?”

A short pause and then, “Do I know you?”

“Yes, you do. It’s Julian.”

“The Julian Drake I picked on all through grade school?”

“I think it lasted through junior high, and yes, it’s me.”

“No way! And you’re a doctor now? Not surprising, since you left all your classmates behind in the dust. You skipped, what, one or two years?”

“More like doubled up on some and tested out of others. They didn’t really skip me.”

“However it happened, you graduated at sixteen. You’d already been gone a couple months when I found out. I can’t believe you remember me.”

“Didn’t at first. Your married name threw me. But I’ll never forget that high-pitched voice.”

“And I’ll never forget you had no voice at all. Always so quiet. And I’m divorced, by the way. Would have reverted to Johnson, but I have a son. The boy genius Julian, a doctor. That fits you. Will you be working at the urgent-care center that just opened up?”