Pleasure Seekers by Rochelle Alers

Author:Rochelle Alers [Alers, Rochelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, General
ISBN: 9781426854064
Google: iBGrF-3jphIC
Amazon: B00E1UY7T0
Publisher: Kimani Press
Published: 2010-02-01T10:40:19+00:00

CHAPTER 52

Derrick Warren was waiting for Alana when she alighted from the Bentley. A warm smile deepened the folds under his eyes. Despite his proclivity for a same-sex relationship there was something about Alana Gardner that made him question his decision not to sleep with a woman.

And it wasn’t that he hadn’t slept with women in the past, it was just he preferred men. Perhaps, he thought, he wasn’t homosexual but bisexual.

She was stunning in white: halter top, slacks and espadrilles. He’d heard someone in his entourage refer to her as the “black Anna Nicole.” Derrick agreed with him, but added that Alana was more intelligent, beautiful, natural and exotic than the buxom blonde.

Reaching for her hands, he kissed her fingers. “Welcome, Alana.”

A warm breeze coming off the Hudson River stirred wisps of hair around her face. “Thank you, Derrick.” Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek.

Cradling her hand in the bend of his elbow, he led her down a sloping hill to a moored yacht crowded with partygoers that had gathered at his White Plains compound earlier that morning for breakfast. He’d planned a leisurely sail down the river to lower Manhattan, before a return trip would culminate with a cookout on the lawn of his recently completed twenty-two-room mansion. Derrick had invited Marcus Hampton, but his financial manager had declined because of a prior commitment.

He escorted Alana up the gangway. “We’re ready to sail,” he told the boat’s captain.

Alana took off her shoes and placed them in an area with the others. The wood on the deck of the yacht was warm and soft as cotton under her bare feet.

“We meet again, sugah” crooned a voice close to her ear.

She turned to find Kris Dennison grinning at her. “Hey, playa,” she drawled as if she’d just come from the Deep South.

His hands went to her waist as he pulled her close. “Damn, baby, you get mo’ beautiful every time I see ya. I don’t care what Derrick says, but you is mine today.”

She glanced around his wide shoulders. “Where’s your wife, Kris? I don’t want no mess.”

“Ain’t goin’ be no mess, sugah. We done wit each other.”

Alana gave him a skeptical look. “Since when?”

Kris beckoned to another ballplayer. “Yo, man, tell this lady that me and Maeretha is done.”

“They’re done,” he confirmed.

“Okay, Kris. We’ll hang out together.”

“What you drinking, sugah?”

“I’ll have a mimosa. Champagne and orange juice,” she explained when he gave her what she considered a dummy look.

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?”

Alana groaned inwardly. It was only one in the afternoon and she knew it was going to be a very long day if she let Kris follow her around like a lost puppy. And there was no way she could lose him on the boat like she could in a club.

She stared at the other passengers and smiled. Young, talented, educated and fashionably dressed in white, they mingled in small groups, laughing and sipping cocktails as if rehearsing to take their place as the next generation of upscale African-Americans.

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