no more love… in common.
Legacy. Every family has a story to tell.
The Legacy series is growing! I remember when I first introduced the Wilkerson family a couple of years ago. Since then, many of you asked about Paige Scott's family, so I released Baby Love and Love Is. Then some of you wanted to know even more about the Scotts, including Trent and Paige's brother Warren, Jr. Well, it took some time, but Warren very well could have met his match in No More Love.
Meet Warren (junior that is). Just like his late father and namesake, he is a player… except he's not one to get caught up in drama like his dad. There will be no out-of-wedlock babies (or in-wedlock either), no trail of tears in his honor, and damn sure no love. His path is his own and he doesn't have time for distractions - just unattached detours.
Meet Brooke. It doesn't take long for Warren to realize she's the perfect woman - as a player recognizes their own. She gets the rules and expects no exceptions. In fact, she even has a few rules of her own.
But what fun are rules unless they can be broken?
No More Love will not be released until next month, but I wanted to give you a sneak peek anyway.
P.S. I love the song In Common by Alicia Keys. It also reminds me of Warren & Brooke... Thought I'd add the link for it, just in case you like a little music with your reading.
Brooke snuggled closer to the warmth, ready to wrap her arms around the comforting and never-ending pillow beside her. Hardness met her, and she realized it was not her beloved body pillow pressed against her. Instead it was the man she’d spent the night with, and he was holding her in his arms. The same strong arms that had lifted her up high against his delicious height, as they made their way from room to room while joined at the nether regions.
She lifted the sheet quickly to take a peek and see if they were both still naked. She was.
And so was he…
So delectably naked that Brooke just stared slack-jawed at every inch that had worked hard to convince her not to leave this very bed. Damn this man for being so sexy.
She sucked in a breath and muttered, “Just damn, damn, damn.” As she did, her nostrils picked up on lingering notes, like bergamot and patchouli mixed with traces of good old-fashioned bar soap. One more whiff had her regretting something so pointless, like nuzzling closer for the sake of inhaling a man’s scent. But did he have to smell so freaking good?
Brooke sighed, feeling her cheek press against the crook of his forearm, and sprinkles of hair from his arm brushed against her face and neck. She lifted her head to get a good look at him, to see if he, too, was now awake. Expecting to peer into those brilliant golden brown eyes of his, she instead stared at long lashes resting against the tops of his cheeks. Nothing but the even sound of his soft snores could be heard between them.
Feeling his arm tighten around her as he pulled her close, she realized that once again, they had returned to this position. Twice, she’d woken to find they were entangled in the type of intimate embrace that was reserved for lazy, post-lovemaking moments, instead of on opposite sides of the king-size bed where they belonged. Or better yet, in separate beds on different floors. This was how she imagined lovers slept, with legs intertwined and a man’s arms possessively wrapped around her waist. True, this would probably delight many, but not them. The hazy fog meant for lovers eluded them both. They’d made that much clear a few hours ago. Lovers they would never be.
Brooke closed her eyes to help rewind her brain, taking her to the point in the evening where she’d discarded her things. Her clutch and dress were likely on the floor in the vestibule. Bra somewhere between there and the sitting room. She shifted, feeling something between her legs. Reaching under the covers and toward her knees, Brooke touched the silkiness of her underwear and smiled. Now all she needed to find were her shoes.
She knew at any moment, the pulse of the city would be coming alive, and before long, joggers and stroller pushers would make their way through the park below his window. It was time for her to go before Rittenhouse Square woke up, too.
Brooke extracted herself from Warren’s embrace and looked around for her clothes. She spotted one of her shoes on the nightstand and a small smile appeared on her face, but it slipped away at the feel of his touch on her thigh.
She straightened and spoke quickly. “I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.” Brooke then turned to stare back at him, waiting for his expression to offer any of the emotion he was feeling, hoping it remained as neutral as the one she hoped to project. When it remained unchanged, her smile returned. “Thanks for dinner and, of course, dessert.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed the dessert.”
“So,” she said, knowing what was to come next, but forgetting how to say one of the easiest words in the English language. Goodbye.
Streaks of natural light poured into the room, casting warm rays on her nude body and bouncing through his tired eyes, making the light color almost translucent. Again, she almost fell into a trance, but managed to tear away her gaze to refocus on the task at hand. This was not the time to get seduced by this man’s charm or his hypnotic stare.
Brooke lifted a leg with the intent to slip on her panties, only because she needed to make her way back to her own room. Traipsing through the hotel hallways half-naked, wrapped in nothing but borrowed linen, would not be a good look, and no doubt word would somehow get back to the office if she dared. Although, she had to admit, the possibilities of streaking down the hall sounded tempting and freeing. The visual alone brought a smirk to her face, and her eyes darted around the room in search of her other shoe.
Warren moved his hand from her thigh to her bare knee and brushed his fingers across her skin, preventing her from moving her underwear any higher. Suddenly she felt exposed, and moved the sheet to cover her breasts.
“Not yet. Once more before you go,” he said. His calm command sounded good. Real good. But she needed to leave and get on with her day.
“You’re out of condoms, remember?”
He pushed up on the bed and tucked a pillow between his head and headboard. With a shrug, he nodded toward the phone. “They can send up more.”
Brooke held the sheet in place against her chest and moved closer toward him. “Perhaps another time we can enjoy another round of desserts.”
The corners of his lips curved up and his eyes sparkled. She felt his erection through the sheet as it stirred to life against her outer thigh, just as she moved closer to brush her lips against the corner of his mouth.
“It was good catching up with you, Brooke. Take care of yourself.”
This was how it worked and they both knew it. “You do the same.”
She returned to the simple task of getting dressed—a task his presence made difficult—and felt his eyes on her as she moved around the room gathering up her things.
“Any plans later?” he asked.
Brooke looked up to see Warren was sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes still trained on her. Blink, dammit, she thought. Spare her from that constant stare that had her feeling him seek something deep within her thoughts, reaching beyond the few words she expressed. “Brunch with a friend. You?”
“A couple of meetings. Thinking about grabbing some new suits at a spot that’s a few streets over.” His voice got quieter as he spoke, until he just stopped speaking altogether, and Brooke waited in case he would say more.
A minute later, Warren stood and walked toward her. She stopped dressing to stare at his bare body. Never before had she seen anyone so beautiful. Roped, defined muscles ran across his chest, down his arms and along the legs that were full of more power than anything she’d ever had between her own. She almost reconsidered leaving so soon.
Almost. Where the hell is that shoe? Spotting the heel as it poked out from beneath a chair, she bent low to retrieve it.
“Hit me up later if you want. I’ll be here till Monday.”
Brooke’s eyes roamed the length of his body, and she nodded once she reached his face. “I just might do that.”
With her phone and shoes in hand, Brooke made her way to the door as he called out one last goodbye from behind her. After she reached the other side and heard the door click closed, Brooke powered on her phone, ready to bypass notifications of missed messages. Her fingers couldn’t move fast enough as she worked to find one name in particular before following several prompts.
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Brooke tapped the screen one final time to confirm her decision. Once Warren’s number was successfully deleted from her phone, she proceeded down the hall toward the elevator.
After stepping inside the empty space, Brooke wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the wall. It might have only taken a minute to wipe his digital imprint, but how in the world was she supposed to erase the memory of that man’s touch?
Copyright © 2016 by Tia Kelly. All rights reserved.