One in a Million Read online

  The other women surrounded them.

  "I have to admit that you're quite the buzz this evening. Just where did Gregory find you, my dear?"

  Perplexed, Whitney looked at the crowd. "I've known Gregory a long time."

  Lisa's smile didn't falter nor did it reach her eyes.

  "My dear, I know all of Gregory's friends. We were an item for quite awhile and he never mentioned you."

  The snide remark kindled Whitney's anger. "That's funny. He never mentioned you, either."

  "Well." Lisa pushed back an invisible strand of hair behind her ear. "Gregory is a busy man after all, had your relationship been at all important I'm sure I would have heard about you."

  The other women exchanged amused grins.

  Whitney felt her claws growing and she wanted to draw blood. "It's true that we had separated in college, but I assure you that we are extremely important to Gregory. Me and our son."

  The collective gasp in the room seemed almost comical to Whitney. Then the women began to whisper among themselves.

  Lisa looked as if Whitney had just slapped her. "You're lying. Gregory doesn't have children. He told me himself."

  "She's not lying, Lisa."

  All heads turned.

  Whitney had never been so happy to see anyone in all her life.

  Jan's regal stance in front of the bathroom entrance caused a hush to envelope the crowd. But her sharp gaze remained directed on Lisa.

  "I knew you couldn't pass up the opportunity to interrogate Gregory's fiance."

  The women turned back and stared openly at Whitney who was startled by Jan's lie. She and Gregory wasn't engaged, but she had to admit she enjoyed watching Lisa horrified expression.

  "Fiance, why we...Gregory and I just recently broke up. How could he be engaged to..." Lisa turned her cold gaze to Whitney. "This woman?"

  The crowd parted like the red sea as Jan sauntered towards Lisa. When the women stood in front of each other, everyone, including Whitney, waited to see what would happen next.

  "Don't you have anything else to do than to stick your nose where it isn't wanted?"

  Lisa straightened her back. "I was trying to make Gregory's lady escort feel welcome. Someone has to, she doesn't exactly blend with the crowd, if you know what I mean."

  Embarrassed, Whitney turned to assess the group of women's sympatric looks.

  "The one who doesn't belong is you. Tell me, exactly, why are you here? You and Gregory are no longer an item by your own admission. You have nothing to do with Tech Design or any of its employees."

  Lisa's discomforted was apparent to everyone.

  "Not that it's any of your business, but I came here to see Gregory. We need to talk."

  "So go talk to him and leave her alone."

  Lisa turned to Whitney. "He'll come back to me, you know. I'm the one who broke off our relationship. He's very much in love with me."

  Whitney had no time to react to that statement before Lisa waltzed out of the door. The rest of the women watched as well before the room fell ominously quiet.

  "Are you alright?' Jan asked once they left the lady's room.

  "Yeah, I guess so. I'm still not sure about what just happened."

  "Don't pay Lisa any attention. When I first met Lenny, she was chasing after him."

  Whitney's eyes widened.

  "Lisa's only interest is money."

  Whitney looked across the room to see Lisa and Gregory in a deep discussion."

  "Does he love her?" Whitney asked.

  Jan touched her shoulder to draw her attention back. "No. And she knows that, too."

  Gregory held his temper in check as Lisa continued with her complaints. He had to stop her from trying to press her body against him through the course this conversation. When Lisa finished he responded. "It's over between us, Lisa. You know it and I know it." He walked away.

  Whitney said nothing as Gregory came to stand beside her again. She could tell by Lisa's dramatic exit that things were just fine. Throughout the rest of the evening, Whitney drank champagne and nibbled on hors-d'oeuvres.

  Gregory observed her uneasiness and suggested they go for a walk.

  Whitney embraced herself when they stepped out into the night's cool breeze and stared up at the stars. The soft sound of jazz that played in the background, and added to the romantic setting as Gregory's undeniable scent wafted around her to let her know that he stood behind her.

  "I'm sorry you're not enjoying the party." His whisper sent another euphoric wave throughout her body.

  "I guess I just feel a little out of place in there."

  "I've made my customary appearance. We can leave if you want to."

  She turned to look at him. The moonlight casted fascinating shadows across his face and she lifted her hand to caress his cheek.

  Was it the champagne, the music, or the full moon that freed her inhibitions? "Do you believe in magic?" she asked.

  Gregory kissed her fingertips, performing his own sense of magic. "Of course I do."

  She put her fingers beneath his chin and pulled it down as she stood on her toes to meet his lips.

  Sweet, melodious, and intoxicating, she thought, then deepened the kiss.

  "I miss you," was his weak reply when he moved his lips to roam down the valley of her neck.

  "I miss you, too."

  He stopped to probe into her passion-filled eyes. "Let's get out of here."

  Whitney pulled away from the spell to stare at him for several heartbeats. When slowly, she lifted the corners of her mouth and nodded in compliance.

  "Yes, let's get out of here."

  Chapter Six

  They started in the limousine.

  Whitney tried to unbutton Gregory's shirt but ended up snapping off most of them. His warm breath against the base of her neck moistened the core of her being. She was on fire, she was sure of it. His hands worked their way up to cup her breasts. She opened her mouth to let his tongue perform a duet with hers in a mating chant as old as time.

  The feel of his rough hands, traveling down the length of her body generated an onslaught of spasmodic waves across her skin. Every part of her body tingled, while her mind raced with the wild pleasure he gave. She moaned out his name when his finger dipped and touched the bud of her passion.

  Gregory replaced his hand, which held her bare breasts, with his mouth, and suckled their sweet taste. His body hardened with desire from the way she gyrated her body against him. The sound of his name, floating from her lips, accelerated the rhythm of his fingers as they pumped inside of her.

  Every fiber of his body wanted her, but he tried to practice patience and control. His hands explored the different parts of her breast and roamed across erotic contours of her hips. He nearly exploded when her hand had unfastened his pants and began its own stroke of enchantment.

  Gregory shifted his weight and lovingly repositioned Whitney to press her against the black leather seats. Her eyes were drugged with desire and their seductive look destroyed his patience. Seconds later, her body vibrated with an orgasmic cry of ecstasy that crushed his control.

  Before he could act out his intentions, the limousine rolled to a stop.

  Whitney bolted upright, then searched frantically for her clothes. The dress had been flipped inside out and took her a moment to fix it.

  Gregory fumbled with his clothes. But when he reached to button his shirt, he looked up to lock gazes with Whitney. Their situation seemed humorous as both realized that they were behaving like teenagers and laughed.

  "I'm sorry about your shirt." Whitney pointed to his dilemma.

  Gregory's mood remained jovial. "I'm not."

  She caught the mischievous gleam in his eyes and shook her head. She looked around the large compartment. "Is my other shoe over there by you?"

  Gregory searched and found it. "Here you go."

  When the driver opened the door, they stepped out of the limousine. Whitney kept her eyes focused straight ahead, while Gregory
tipped their driver.

  "Have a good evening," Gregory said, then watched as the driver got back into the limousine and disappeared into the night.

  When he moved to stand behind Whitney, he asked, "Are you ready to go inside?"

  Whitney didn't respond, she couldn't. Her gaze remained riveted on the house. The grand three-story ivory house, looked like it went on for forever as she tilted her head higher. Four tall colonial columns sat erected in front of the house while cone-shaped, miniature trees graced both sides of the entrance.

  "This is your home?"

  Gregory took her hand. "Do you like it?"

  She blinked then turned to look at him. "It's beautiful."

  Gregory smiled then slid his arms around her.

  They turned their attention back to the house. Gregory looked at his home as if for the first time. It was a long way from where he grew up, a long way from where his family struggled economically; it was a long way from Techwood Housing Projects. His only regret was that his parents hadn't lived long enough to see what their hard work had wrought.

  Whitney hugged him. He looked over at her and wondered to himself why he’d been blessed with this angel at his side.

  "Are you ready to go in?" he asked.

  Whitney nodded, then allowed him to lead her to the door.

  Gregory started to remove his keys when the door swung open.

  An elderly woman with silver gray hair and dressed in a long flannel gown stood inside the door. "Greg."

  "Good evening, Mattie. We didn't mean to wake you." He slid his arm back around Whitney.

  "Nonsense. You didn't wake me. I was just in the library catching up on some reading." Her eyes traveled to Whitney.

  Whitney automatically extended her arm in greeting and was happy the older woman accepted it without hesitation.

  "Whitney Jackson."

  "Mattie Porter. I'm the head housekeeper." She moved away from the door then called out. "Aren't you going to invite her in, Greg?"

  He faced Whitney and gave her another gallant bow. "My humble abode awaits you."

  Whitney laughed as she sauntered pass him to enter the foyer. She stopped when the glorious magnitude of the house hit her. She didn't think it was possible to achieve or portray such beauty.

  "I'll make you two some coffee," Mattie shouted from somewhere in the house.

  Gregory leaned over to whisper in Whitney's ear. "She not really the housekeeper. She's my aunt."

  Whitney gave him an inquiring look.

  "Before I learned of Demetrius, Aunt Mattie was my only living relative. After Tech Design became a success, I moved her in with me. But Aunt Mattie hates the thought of receiving charity, so she gave herself the title of housekeeper. And when I had to hire a real housekeeper, she changed her title to head housekeeper."

  Whitney laughed.

  Mattie rushed back into the foyer. "Are you two just going to stand there all night? Greg bring her into the library so I can get a good look at her and hear about my nephew."

  Hours and several cups of coffee later, Mattie gave into her drowsiness. She had cocked her head to the side of the chair and snored in a deep sleep.

  Gregory gently lifted his aunt into his arms and whispered to Whitney that he would return in a moment.

  She watched him leave, then shook her head. Mattie was a funny and charismatic woman. Whitney found it easy to talk to Mattie. Whitney also loved any opportunity to brag about Demetrius. Gregory told a few stories he had experienced with his son within the last few days. Pride dominated his voice, while Whitney, at times, smiled inwardly from hearing his kind words.

  "Okay," Gregory whispered reentering the library. "I got Aunt Mattie to bed and now it's time to tuck you in, too."

  Whitney shook her head, then squealed when Gregory chased her across the room. When he caught her, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and carried her from the library. He bounded up the steps two at a time.

  Kicking the door open, he continued to carry her towards the bed.

  Whitney tried to look around. "Did you decorate this entire house by yourself?"

  "Of course not. Aunt Mattie helped." He winked at her.

  "You guys did a wonderful job."

  Gregory laid her down on the bed. "I think we have some unfinished business, Ms. Jackson."

  She corked her eyebrows up at him. "Oh, really? And what business might that be?"

  He administered small kisses across her face before he captured her lips to enjoy the sweet taste of her lips. Within seconds, their clothes disappeared beneath each other's exploring hands.

  Whitney pressed her breasts against him and felt his own nipples hardened. She slid her fingers down and around the course of his body.

  Gregory's hand performed the same sweet torment. She loved and savored the emotions his hands elicited from an unfamiliar place in her heart.

  He glided her back to lie onto the bed and she welcomed the feeling of silk sheets against her body. The heat from his mouth left her lips to lick and kiss down her neck, along the collarbone, then through the valley of her breasts. She arched her body in offering and he rewarded with his tongue that circled around each hardened nipple.

  Whitney had to remind herself to breathe. But the task proved to be difficult when she felt his mouth wander lower. The heavenly sensation continued as his tongue glided across her navel then traveled even lower.

  She squirmed against him as her hands raced along the sleek texture of the sheets. She needed something to hold onto. Out of reflex, she tried to pull away but his hands held her essence against his probing mouth.

  Gregory couldn't get enough. He felt the clenching of her muscles against his face as her legs quaked around his shoulders. Their spastic exhibition prodded him into a wilder pace.

  Whitney jerked, trying to pump away, but he drove her higher until she crested the bridge of madness. She bucked her body as she started to drown in the fervent torture. Her actions only succeeded in propelling her over the edge.

  Gregory loved her wail of euphoria and the soft moans of his name. He pulled himself up to her lips, wanting to share the taste of her passion. However, she no longer allowed him to be the aggressor. She shifted her weight and rolled on top of him. She cradled his hips with her legs, then sat up to cradle his hips.

  With her hair a wavy mess, her face a flushed burgundy, she began her own form of torment. It was as if she had memorized his actions as she returned his every kiss, lick and orgasmic performance.

  When he couldn't take anymore, he saddled her against his swollen member. Their bodies rocked hard against each other as they tried to reach a pinnacle that was just beyond their reach.

  Gregory took the reign once again and pulled her beneath him. The pace he set made Whitney wrap her arms around him in order to hold on. But oh, what a ride. Within seconds, she felt the swirl of frenzied emotions explode inside of her as Gregory jerked with a roar of rapture. In the end, it was her name that echoed throughout the room.

  Gregory had only enough strength to kiss her forehead and murmur words of contentment. His hands played with the fallen curls of her hair, even while his eyes drifted close.

  Inebriated, the lovers reflected on the severity of their lovemaking and refused to fight against the puissance of drowsiness. Within seconds, they slept upon lofty clouds of fulfillment.

  * * *

  The next morning, Whitney slept while Gregory caressed her supple cheek. In response, she stretched in languorous ecstasy against the length of his body. With beautiful ringlets of hair cascaded across a bronze silk pillow, she completed the image of an incorrigible siren.

  He leaned down and brushed a feathery kiss across her ample lips. Soft jazz selections whispered inside the room as beacons of lights streamed through the palladium windows and highlighted her delicate features.

  Reluctant to leave the bed, but determined to prolong the romantic mood, Gregory slid from beneath the sheets then into a black, silk robe before he made his w
ay downstairs. As he descended, he hummed in tune with Sade sultry voice in Is it a crime?

  Last night, they whispered words of love during his ceremony of carnal worship, where passion had scorched his heart and branded him hers. She was a tigress who had left her marks scratched across his back. Her hunger for satisfaction had soared them past the pinnacle of heaven.

  They were blessed with this second chance and he intended to embrace this gift of love. But he didn't want to frighten Whitney with a proposal this soon. He was going to take his time, make sure he did all the right things, and said all the right words.

  Everything had to be perfect. If she wanted the moon, he had the strength to lasso it from the stars. There was nothing he wasn't prepared to give, nothing he wasn't prepared to do.

  An hour later, Mouth-watering aromas of bacon and eggs, mingled with freshly brewed coffee, drifted into the bedroom. Their scent enticed and beguiled Whitney from her deep slumber. She moaned and reached a hand out to explore the vacancy beside her.. Her eyes floated open.

  "Good morning," he sang as he entered the room.

  Whitney wiped away her grogginess and sat upright against the headboard. Her face beamed with pleasure when he walked towards the bed with a large tray of food. A sly blush colored her face as she threaded her fingers through the curls of her hair.

  "I don't believe this." A single red rose, centered on the tray, added the perfect touch. She nuzzled her nose inside its bud and inhaled.

  "After last night, I knew you had probably worked up an appetite." He watched her color ripen.

  "I don't think I can stick to being a vegetarian," she laughed. "I love this stuff. But, I don't think I can eat all of this." She gestured a hand at the grand breakfast.

  Gregory picked up two forks and smiled. "It's for the both of us. I'm starved."

  Whitney laughed, then bit into a strip of bacon. Being with him like this felt natural. It seemed as if time had stopped just for them. Last night was special. It was a renewal of their vows of passion, a revival of their devotion, and an awakening of their love.

  They played like children and occasionally fed each other golden biscuits, fresh fruits, and fluffy pancakes. When the telephone rang, Gregory kissed the sweet syrup from her lips before he answered it.