Private Acts by Delaney Diamond Read Free Book Online Page B

familiar sound. The unique ring tone signaled a call from his brother, Aarón.
    Their bodies stilled and with great reluctance, he withdrew his mouth from hers. Her complete withdrawal came fast as she unwound herself from around him, and he lowered her to the ground onto her feet.
    The insistent chirping of the phone continued.
    Miguel needed time to collect himself because he could hardly breathe. Leaning on his forearm, his hand curled into a fist of frustration above her head. He watched as she cut him off by pulling her shirt down to cover her bared breasts.
    This couldn’t be happening. Not right now.
    Samirah looked away from him. With the heavy rise and fall of her chest and lips plumped from kissing, she enticed him, and he thought about turning off the phone and carrying her into the house to finish what they’d started.
    The ringing stopped, but before he could say a word, it started up again.
    He closed his eyes momentarily. “ No te muevas ,” he said grimly.
    Even though he told her not to move, the minute he reached into his pocket for the phone, she slipped under his arm and grabbed her discarded bag.
    “I said don’t move,” he muttered, reaching for her, but only grabbed air. She slipped away, and helplessly, he watched her rush out the gate away from him.
    Forcing his voice into neutral, Miguel answered before the voice mail picked up again.

    * * * *

    Samirah tiptoed into the quiet house. She could smell whatever the Hills had eaten for dinner in the air. She didn’t bother to check the refrigerator to see what was left over because food was the last thing on her mind. Quietly, she moved through the house to her quarters and closed the door. Leaning back against it, she let out a heavy breath and lowered her lids. Never had she wanted a man so much. The mere thought of not having him caused a physical ache as basic as hunger or thirst.
    Tossing her package on the sofa, Samirah went into the bathroom and took a quick, cold shower. Feeling refreshed, she put on a clean pair of underwear and a tank top she used to sleep in and climbed into bed. She burrowed under the covers, as if they could protect her from her thoughts. The frigid temperature of the water hadn’t sufficed. Since the night was still young, maybe she could sleep off her horniness.
    Saved by the ring , she thought with disgust. Was she really so weak and impulsive she would have had sex with him? So far she hadn’t lived up to any of her promises. She hadn’t stayed out of trouble, and she’d come close to having sex.
    She’d never run from her sexuality before, but dammit, this trip was about taking a break and getting to know herself better—the opportunity to regroup and assess her life going forward. She wasn’t getting any younger and needed to think seriously about her future. She couldn’t jaunt across the globe forever. Time to start thinking long term, about serious issues like kids and how she would support herself in her old age.
    She thought back to her first experience abroad alone, when she’d decided to do her Le Cordon Bleu externship in Italy . She hadn’t slowed down since then, wanting to see the world and visit places other than the Caribbean where most of her maternal family lived. Ten years later, she felt the hankering for something more permanent.
    Turning onto her side, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and realized only a few minutes had passed since she last looked at it. It seemed more like twenty hours.
    She tossed again, staring up at the ceiling, and wished she could stop thinking about what had happened between her and Miguel. Now that she’d felt his hands, she couldn’t rein in the ideas that trotted through her mind. Her thoughts skittered to the memory of their embrace, of her pinned against the wall as he kissed her. His touch had been so good, so intoxicating, it remained stamped into her psyche like indelible ink.
    What would it feel like if he buried his fingers in her