Excerpt of Up All Night

Prologue

"It’Äôs is all about the sex, ladies. And Orchid Soul is it!"
As far as presentations went, Eileen’Äôs statements were brief and to the point. Natasha Madison and her four friends joined the smatter of claps when they realized that was the extent of the presentation.
Across the dinner table from Natasha, Eileen flashed her troublemaker grin. "So, are you in?"
"Hell, yeah!" Vanessa piped in, then quickly elbowed Natasha, who nodded and said, "Sure!"
She, in turn, elbowed Rusty, who found all eyes on her. "I don’Äôt know."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Girl, it’Äôs not even real. We’Äôre just testing. What’Äôs not to know?"
"It's bad enough to fake it during sex, but to sign up for a fake fantasy sex club seems pretty damned sad, ladies," Rusty grumbled.
"Think of it as safe sex," Natasha teased.
"I don't want any sex at all," Rusty responded.
Vanessa shifted in her chair and raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Hey, I think you need to adopt Natasha’Äôs Diamond Life goals."
Natasha groaned, but her friends ignored her. She’Äôd come up with the four C’Äôs when her ex-boyfriend had cheated on her -’Äì the loser.
"What were the four C’Äôs, Natasha? Clarity and . . . um . . ."
"Control," Rusty helped out.
"Conviction? Or is that contraception?" Vanessa asked, already chuckling. "Because that definitely ought to be on the list."
"You’Äôre such a goofball," Natasha laughed.
"Wait, we’Äôre missing the last one. What is it?"
All eyes went to Natasha.
"Courage," she said, then looked at Rusty. "Courage, my sister."
Rusty put her hands out in defeat. "Okay, okay, I’Äôm in."
As the dinner went on, thoughts of the four C’Äôs kept running through Natasha’Äôs mind. Following them was turning out to be harder than she’Äôd expected.
In the last few months, she’Äôd found herself taking them on, one by one.
Clarity had happened when she’Äôd come home early to find her fiancˆ© and her neighbor writhing in the same bed. Hell, how had she been so blind? Somehow, she’Äôd managed to turn her fury into a hard chill that kept her from going into a wild rage that would've killed them both. As the saying went, hindsight was always crystal clear. All the little signs had been there, if she’Äôd only looked. Control. She wasn’Äôt going to ever get played like that again. Courage. It was really one step up from caution, because truly, once bitten, twice shy. Conviction. This was the toughest part. It was easy to think of clarity, control, and courage in logical terms, but, God, it was so much harder to get the true conviction to believe it of herself. Diamonds were one of the toughest things on earth, so calling her philosophy Diamond Life seemed appropriate. Besides, Orchid Soul was the perfect place to start practicing.

Eileen’Äôs debut party -- or rather, as Eileen called it, debug party --was turning out to be a hit.
Not, however, for Natasha. The low-level energy had her craving cigarettes again. There was an unmistakable sense of desperation in the air. Too much testosterone. Too many women preening, eyeballing the men like starving barracudas. No different from the bar scenes she’Äôd been to lately. Sure, Eugene had been a failure, but a girl had needs. She had to get back on the horse, so to speak . . . work on the whole courage thing. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off the nerves as she wandered around the crowded party, looking for her best friends. When she didn’Äôt spot them, she headed for the patio doors.
Natasha slid her hand into her purse, immediately searching for a pack of gum, her mind wandering to her ex-fiancˆ©. She’Äôd dumped him along with her old, nasty habit of smoking, but every now and then, the cravings for both were vicious. It was surprising how much stronger the cravings for sex were getting.
The February night was warm and sticky in comparison with the air-conditioned ballroom, and once the door was closed, the R & B thump of music and conversation was muted significantly. As Murphy's Law would have it, there was an ashtray next to the door, brimming with cigarette butts. Even that old, stale scent had her groaning. Sure, they were rank and old, but cravings made her want to dig her nose into them like a bouquet of flowers.
Healthy choices. She was determined to make healthy, smart choices and stay in control! Who knew baby steps could be so hard?
Resigned to her goal, she rolled up her gum lengthwise, put it momentarily on her lips like she used to do with her lit cigarettes, then reluctantly and slowly, she took bites until it was completely in her mouth.
"That work?"
Natasha almost screamed at the gruff, male voice that caressed out of the surrounding darkness. She managed not to choke on the gum and glared at the moving shadow not far from her right. As if in apology, a tall man stepped out into the dim light.
He was built like a corn-fed linebacker, his head full of braids that fell to his shoulders, making him look somewhat intimidating. The only movement appeared to be a plastic stir straw clamped tightly between his white teeth.
"It works," she replied, glad that her voice remained cool, revealing none of her sudden nerves.
He stepped closer, exposing more of his angular face to the light; his firm lips; his dark, narrowed eyes against skin as rich as freshly roasted coffee beans. Everything from his jeans, shirt, and boots showed signs of rough wear. As if he'd been riding his motorcycle in a mad dash to make it to the party on time. But there was a surliness about him that hinted at nicotine withdrawal.
It was silly, really, for her heart to be doubling up on palpitations, not to mention the ghostly little flutter in her gut. Sweet man candy!
She tried not to show her reaction to him but realized she'd stop chewing her gum.
The man tipped his head a bit and his braids followed the motion, fascinating her. She’Äôd never dated anyone with braids or brawny muscles before. But she'd strongly consider him for one-night-stand material.
Nonetheless, as far as first impressions went, this guy was losing points. No witty conversation. Just, "that work?" What kind of a line was that? On the other hand, why worry about his IQ when he had a body like that?
She worked her way back up to his face and watched as the plastic straw moved to the other side of his mouth, but the faint smile that graced his lips had a sarcastic slant that made her realize she'd been staring way too long. He cleared his throat and spoke around the mangled straw. "See anything you like?"
She blinked, felt her face redden, and wished she could blow a disdainful puff of smoke in his direction. "The jacket's not bad."
The smirk on his face turned into a slow grin.
"And maybe the boots, too."
He looked down at his jacket. "Didn't think it was your type of thing."
"It's not." She snapped her gum, smiling cheekily. "But looking ain't the same as shopping."
"Are we still talking about the clothes or the man?" he asked.
"There's an old saying that the clothes make the man," she noted.
There was amusement and challenge in his eyes when he chuckled. "See, that's where you're wrong."
"Really? So I shouldn't read much into the whole motorcycles-leather-and-chains look, huh?"
He shifted, and the play of light made it seem as if he was holding the night at bay. "Depends on what you are referring to . . . sex or transportation. I happen to like motorcycles for transportation, but when it comes to sex, velvet ropes and secluded stairwells or dungeons are more of my thing -’Äî"
"Okay!" She put her hands out as if she could hold back his words. "I get your point. We are not each other's types. I get it."
"I didn't say that." He grinned with smooth charm that lit up his features. "It's a personal policy of mine not to be discriminating or judgmental."
She flushed again, but before she could open her mouth to retaliate, he was already chuckling again. "Boy, you sure rile up easy."
Rather than give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his comment had hit its mark, she bit her lip. God, she craved a cigarette ’Äì longed to crush it dramatically into the ashtray, say something cutting, and make a grand exit.
A small pause followed in which they eyed each other.
"Sorry," he said, leveling his disarming charm at her again. "I get grouchy when I need a smoke. Didn't mean to get your hackles up. Forgive me?"
She narrowed her gaze at him. "Let me think about it."
He suddenly moved a step closer, as quietly as smoke shifted by wind. She didn't have time to react before he reached out to gently touch the string of pearls at her neck. The warm contact stirred the strand and caused her nipples to pucker instantly. "Nice. Family heirloom?"
The change of subject had her thoughts scrambling.
The necklace was a graduation gift from her mother a few years back. One of many such presents, actually. It went well with most of her work attire at the law firm, so she felt obliged to wear them.
"You could say that." She hoped he hadn't noticed the sudden breathlessness in her reply.
"It's very . . . professional. You wear them well." There was a natural gravelly, husky tone to his voice that brought to mind seductive bedroom whispers and slow, skin-licking underwear removal. The light scent of his cologne teased her, making her want to lean closer.
What was he trying to prove?
She almost asked the question but instead pressed her lips together to hold it back. His gaze followed the movement, and for one long, insane second, she actually thought he was going to kiss her. She held her breath and her lips tingled, awaiting the contact.
There was the slightest shift in his breathing, and when his studious, probing gaze locked with hers, she knew without a doubt that it would not be a brief, stolen kiss. The glance couldn't have been more than a second, but it stretched out like an eternity.
The high pitch of her phone suddenly shrilled into the moment and the spell was shattered, unlocking the breath Natasha had been holding.
"Excuse me," she said, turning away from him to answer her phone. Her mouth was dry when she said, "Hello?"
Her friend Rusty's voice boomed in her ear. "Hey, girl, where you at? Vanessa and I grabbed a corner booth not far from the bar, so when you come in, look for us." Natasha didn't bother explaining that she was already at the party, hanging out on the patio with a stranger. Instead she agreed to meet them in a short while.
Just before she hung up, the man gave her a polite nod, his expression calm, as if nothing had happened. Then he quietly disappeared into the crowd indoors.