Don't Leave Me This Way Read online

  “I know. But my statistics are off,” Keturah said.

  “Who cares? It’s my scholarship anyway,” Mae grinned with the toss of her hair.

  Keturah laughed. “Are you drunk? The Chancellor has already put my name on it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get up. I’ve got a surprise for you!” Mae dragged the chair back from the desk. There would be no escaping the evening. Keturah put her face in her hands and bemoaned her plight. The last time she went out with Mae to a college party she got so drunk she slept for two days and missed an exam. Mae teased her over her naiveté and awkwardness with boys.

  “Go!” Mae said.

  “Please tell me it’s just us. I’m not in the mood for a big group thing,” Keturah said. “I really do have a headache.”

  Mae leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I promise you I have the cure. All you have to do is believe in me. Oh yeah, and get your ass dressed in something cute.” Mae flung her hair from her shoulders and rocked her hips from side to side. “I want to shake my booty with some English cuties! Let’s do this!”

  There was no use in arguing about the matter. And Mae was right. She needed a break. Her OCD was making her jumpy. The peer-pressure closed in on her from every side of her brain. So she forced herself to stand. At her closet she removed a new pair of black fitted corduroys. She bought them because of the way they wrapped snug around her hips and gave her butt a nice rounded lift. She chose a matching black V-neck cashmere sweater because it minimized the size of her breasts. It also slimmed out her waistline nicely. She grabbed her undies and hurried off to shower. “Give me twenty!” she shouted back at Mae.

  The shower did an excellent job in revitalizing her weary bones. Keturah lathered, rinsed, and dried her curves with breakneck speed. She put lotion over her body, applied a dab of perfume to her sweet spots, and dressed quickly. She decided to leave her braids loose for the evening. She wore diamond studs. Mae chatted on her cellphone the entire time, ignoring Keturah’s beauty regiment.

  After a final inspection of her side profile in her tight pants and riding boots, she felt confident about the evening. She puckered her glossy lips and winked at herself before grabbing her leather jacket and putting it on. And then her phone rang.

  “Meet you downstairs!” Maeko said before she left.

  Keturah located her phone. It was either her father or his assistant Jason. She had no other number to reach her daddy since he was constantly travelling “Hello?”

  “Baby girl?”

  “Hi, Daddy!” Keturah smiled. She felt such happiness her cheeks hurt from grinning so hard. “I’ve been waiting on your call.”

  “Are you okay? Everything okay over there?” he asked.

  “Yes! I really think I have a shot at this grant. And I—”

  “Great. Great. Well if you need anything make sure to tell Jason. He’ll see to it.”

  “Daddy? I wanted to ask about Christmas. I haven’t heard from Yvette on the family plans. I can’t make it home for Thanksgiving, because of the program but I’m free Christmas.”

  “Keturah, we talked about this. You’re a woman now. You can do whatever you want with your holidays.”

  She closed her eyes and braced for the rest.

  “Yvette wants the holiday to be for the kids this year. Especially since I’ve been out of the country for most of it. You understand? Have you tried your mother? To see what her plans are?”

  “She and I don’t get along, Daddy. You know this,” she said, the quiver in her voice matched the tremors in her hands. She blinked away the tears. “It’s Christmas!”

  “Grow up, Keturah. Focus.”

  Keturah sucked down her weak reply. It was hard, but she had had years of practice on how to still her tongue. “Thanks for calling, Daddy,” she said.

  “I love you,” he replied. “I’ll call and check in again soon.”

  The line disconnected.

  Keturah wiped her tears from her cheeks. She turned off her cell phone and shoved it into her purse. Instead of crumbling she forced herself to get stronger. She left the room and pretended none of it mattered. Mae called a cab to come for them. The drive out of the university into the night was unsettling. Keturah didn’t trust the dark roads, the foreign country, or anything about evening. It dawned on her why she didn’t trust the night. Because it was often at night when she felt the most vulnerable.

  “I met a guy!” Mae blurted.

  “Huh? You what?” Keturah asked.

  “I met a guy. Yesterday. We’re meeting him at a pub tonight. It’s called Ta Bouclé. We’ll have pints of beer, meaningless conversation, and stranger sex!” Mae grinned.

  “What the hell is stranger sex?” Keturah nose wrinkled.

  “Sex with a stranger dummy!” Mae laughed.

  “How in the world did you manage to meet a guy? I haven’t been able to see over my books.”

  Mae shrugged. “I have it in my itinerary. Study. Meet guys. Study. Meet cute guys. Study. Get me some English lovin’ from a really cute guy. Check! Check! Check! Double check!” Together they laughed. Keturah needed the humor to distract her. A night with Mae was always fun.

  When the cab stopped in front of the pub, Keturah split the cost with Mae, and braved the brisk night air once more. The wind picked up her braids from under her beret and blew them out behind her neck. She shivered in spite of the black leather jacket she wore. Mae held her coat closed with one hand reaching for Keturah’s with the other. Together they walked fast up the sidewalk. Maeko pushed in the door. The warmth and noisy crowd greeted them. Keturah’s eyes popped out of her head. The patrons were seventy percent men. Many of the guys turned and gawked at them. This was not what she had in mind.

  **

  He glanced around him with an intense look of displeasure. The beer he nursed was flat. He barely tasted his last swallow. Truthfully boredom lingered more on his palate than the lackluster barley. He’d left his mates at the table and posted at the corner end of the bar. At that very moment he cared less about drinking, chasing women, or even the game on the telie. His wants were now just a ball of misery buried so deep in his gut he could make little sense of them.

  He lifted the pint and took another sip out of habit. His thoughts shifted to home. His father by now had uncovered his secret. Soon he’d pay a visit. Soon he would have to make a choice between the life chosen for him and the life he wanted. The last thing he would tolerate would be interference from his family. And rebellion would be so costly he was unsure if he could survive the backlash. What the fuck was he to do?

  His narrowed gaze swept the bar once more considering his options. Sam wanted him to stay. Insisted on it. Why he even bothered was a mystery. Until he saw her. Out of nowhere she appeared. She walked in the bar and his breath hitched in his throat. The crowd of mates cheering the game shifted and his view was blocked. She was lovely, different, a breath of fresh air he inhaled deeply. However, lovely she was, she was not the type of girl who frequented this pub or his social circle. Could she be the one Sam spoke of?

  “Ah, Mae?” Keturah said. “Where the hell are we?”

  “Nice! Huh?” Maeko grinned. She chomped on her gum and scanned the crowd of men like a predator. Keturah removed her beret and shoved it into her purse. She avoided the eyes of those staring at her. It was hard to do because they stared from every direction.

  “Leave it to you to find a bar full of men,” Keturah said through clenched teeth.

  Mae pointed at the screens o the televisions hanging from mounts in the ceiling. There was a rugby game on. Mae shook off her coat and Keturah followed her lead. They both dropped them on a hook with the others. Her friend stepped boldly into the crowd of men. Keturah wiped her hands on her hips. She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and followed Mae’s lead.

  Several men touched her hand. A few whispered to her as she passed them by. Others ignored her completely as they shouted at the televisions. And then there were those that stared, so openly she found herself caught between blushing and fighting down the urge to run for the door. The British accents and schoolboy looks of these guys made her feel awkward and out of sorts. Bam! A stocky guy, with dark brown eyes and disheveled hair jumped in front of her. His cheeks were scarlet red. His breath reeked of beer.

  “Have a pint with me, lassie!” he roared.

  “Lassie?” Keturah doubled back and bumped another guy. The stranger she collided with ran his hand over her hip as he steadied her. “Nice,” he whispered against her ear. She shrugged his touch off and shook her head no at the grinning idiot in front of her. The swell of panic tightened in her chest, which stifled her breathing. Jerkily she turned to escape. She was trapped between strangers. She strained her eyes in search of Mae.

  The bar exploded with cheers from a score. Loud ruckus forced her back a few steps as others leapt from their bar seats and chairs. Keturah tried to spot her friend through the rambunctious crowd. She was forced to move closer to the bar in an effort to ease by several others. Her vision narrowed left on the narrow space of escape. In doing so she locked eyes with the unwavering stare of another. A young man a few years older than her sipped his beer while staring at her. Keturah could not look away. He was that striking. Time slowed to the rhythm of her beating heart. Men hugged each other and laughed, and beer sloshed in mugs as they slapped backs and the heads of their chums in celebration. All the while the stranger stared on with a slow sexy smile that started at the corners of his mouth and spread across his lips. In that moment she couldn’t really asses much about him, regarding height or build. She didn’t need too. It was his eyes. The overall impact and firepower of his intense stare snared her.

  The stranger lowered his beer aware that he had her full attention. He gave a sly
nod in her direction. She smiled in return.

  “What the hell are you doing at the bar?” Mae pushed up into her face and dragged her back into reality. “Come on! We don’t pay for our own drinks.” Mae grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd. Keturah glanced back at the bar where she saw the handsome stranger but he was gone. She was pushed toward a table of three men. The one closest to her introduced himself as Scott. He pulled out her chair. She sat.

  The waitress shouldered her way to the table and took their next round of drink orders. Keturah ran her fingers through her braids, smoothing them back. She could breathe again. She ordered a beer and forced herself to relax. The bar erupted in the celebratory noise of drunkenness. The excitement was contagious. She found herself clapping but not sure why.

  “So what are you studying? Why Cambridge?” Scott asked.

  “Law. I’m here on a fellowship-grant to compete for a scholarship that will give me dual enrollment between Cambridge and Princeton. A full ride,” she answered. She felt flushed when he leaned in and spoke against her ear, so instinctively she leaned away. His hair, blondish brown, thick and curly, it peeked out from under his baseball cap. Out of all those gathered he was the only American. The party went on and for once she was part of it. Though Scott was a looker, she kept glancing through the shifting crowds near the bar for the stranger.

  Music blared. It sounded like pop and effectively drowned out Scott’s voice. Mae jumped up gyrating her petite hips. Keturah smiled at her friend. They hadn’t started drinking yet. So of course it was gong to be a long night. They would pay dearly for it in the morning. The waitress returned with a tray stacked with beer mugs. She slammed one down in front of Keturah and dispensed the others to those at the table. Keturah sipped her beer. She watched her friend pull one of the guys to the small dance floor. Scott reached over and touched her braids.

  “You’re lovely,” Scott said as if he found the words ‘lovely’ and ‘sexy’ to be synonymous. Her gaze slipped over to his and then shied away. He leaned in closer, his arm across the back of her chair. He reminded her of those preppy fraternity boys she had seen at school in America. The cap he wore down low on his forehead shielded his eyes and thankfully his breath didn’t reek from beer. He had the deepest dimples when he smiled. Keturah liked him instantly. She didn’t date. There was no time and she felt awkward around boys. His being American put her at ease. And his being so close coupled with the warm inviting feel of the pub relaxed her. She hadn’t decided if she would go with the flow or not.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I’m from Ohio. Where are you from?” he asked.

  “New Mexico,” she replied.

  “Ah.” He dropped back in his seat and the smile stayed fixed on his face. “A desert princess.” Thanks to his pearly whites and the warmth in his eyes all thoughts of stranger danger were forgotten. He had managed to gain her full consideration. Keturah tried to think of something witty to say, but she was suddenly startled when the handsome stranger from the bar plopped down in Mae’s empty seat. He put his beer mug on the table. He looked her up and down in a presumptuous, possessive way that made her shy and uneasy. Keturah saw his eyes were even more mysterious up close. They were grey, almost clear as ice. Each guy at the table acknowledged him, including Scott.

  He said a few words then looked at her once more. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  She knew immediately he was different. His brogue wasn’t thick like the others, but polished and crisp.

  “Keturah,” she replied.

  He smiled. “Ka-tour-rah? I like it. What does it mean?” he asked.

  Keturah frowned. “I guess it means sweetheart.”

  He laughed. The other men didn’t. In his presence they were silent. She glanced around at them and back at the stranger. What was she missing?

  “So what’s a beauty like you doing in England?”

  “I’m at Cambridge Uni on an exchange program for the next few months.” Keturah offered.

  “Interesting.” He turned up his beer.

  Keturah shrugged. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

  Scott leaned over. In her ear he whispered. “That my dear is Alistair. He’s not to be trusted. I suggest you give me your attention instead.”

  His name was Alistair? He didn’t look like an Alistair to her.

  “Piss off, Scott. I want her,” Alistair replied and lowered his gaze to her once more.

  Keturah’s attention volleyed between them both. Were they toying with her? Surely they weren’t both vying for her time. Alistair slammed his beer down on the table, he grabbed her hand as he stood and forced her to as well. “Let’s dance.”

  “But…” Before she could object she was pulled away. The music had changed to a bluesy song from a singer she thought she recognized. Alistair brought her through the tightly gathered crowd toward the tiny area cleared away by the speakers for a dance floor. She looked to the left and saw Maeko rolling her hips and pumping her pelvis against the thigh of a guy that towered over her. Alistair swept Keturah into his arms and held her in the intimate possessive fashion of lovers. She lifted her arms and circled his neck to seal the deal. He seemed to like her complicity. He rewarded her with a smile that made her knees weak.

  He felt a wry smile tug at the corner of his mouth when her curves pressed into his. This was not a female to come on strong too. She was the type of girl that needed a reason to let a guy hold her hand. He could tell by the way she kept pushing at his chest when he pulled her in closer. How her smoldering brown eyes shifted nervously about instead of lifting and focusing on him. And even more importantly she didn’t know or care who he was.

  A fresh slate.

  How old was she? Eighteen, maybe nineteen? Her reserved demure manner compared to the wildcat friend of hers who was grinding against his mate’s leg was a welcoming difference. It made him conscious of making her feel at ease.

  Alistair buried his face against the side of her neck. With final resolution he closed his mind down on the matter of where he’d spend the rest of the evening. He owned the slow dance. He instructed the rotation of her hips. His hands traveled up and down her spine never venturing past the dimple in her lower back that reached the curve of her ass. Feeling her breath on his neck and caught up within the soft, yet unyielding arms of her embrace he slipped under that physical lust he rarely felt so swiftly for a woman. He wanted to taste her lips desperately. She would refuse to allow him the privilege so soon. But she slowly lowered her defenses and pressed in closer to him. She felt as beautiful as she looked.

  “Kitten,” he said.

  “What did you call me?” She lifted her gaze under sweeping long lashes and blinked up at him. For a moment he was lost in the deep brilliance. A flicker came on in his brain. He had said the word out loud inadvertently. But he would never shy away from his actions. He leaned in and spoke again against the shell of her ear.

  “Kitten,” he repeated. “When you came into the bar you reminded me of a scared little kitten.”

  Keturah laughed. “Well I’ll call you wolf. Not sure if your bark is worse than your bite.”

  He arched a brow. Keturah matched his stare with a single lift of her own brow. She studied his face unhurriedly, feature by feature. Very few times had her attraction to any man been so physical. He then leaned in and brushed a sweet achingly gentle kiss between her brows. The crease at the center melted and once again she was reminded of how close he held her. Wow. She could feel every hard angle of his chest and thighs pressed against her.

  “Kitten, I want to thank you,” he said.

  “F-for, er, what?” she cleared her throat. “For what?” she repeated.

  “You’ve rescued me from boredom,” he replied.

  “Have I?” How could a man so handsome and confident suffer boredom? Surely he had plenty of options for entertainment. Though they were too close for strangers, he never crossed the line. The restraint only made her nipples harden with a warm tingle that spread between her thighs. She focused on breathing. It was all she could do. With each intake of air she breathed in the heady mossy scent of his cologne like one would do for a freshly bloomed rose. The song ended but he held on to her and it felt nice. Keturah let herself go within his embrace. However, the dancing couples around them twirled to the upbeat tempo, which eventually broke the spell. He released her. “Let’s leave.”