by Tina Martin
“It was that or I could’ve had you come to my office so I could have you there. Either would’ve been fine with me.” I resume eating. So does she. “What were your plans?”
“I have an interview with an admissions counselor. I’m thinking about taking some college courses.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Since my father died, I’ve been reevaluating my life, and it’s time to give up working at the bistro. I can’t be a waitress all my life.”
“Have you officially quit?”
“No. I’m still on-call as a favor to Rico. Hopefully, wherever I go or whatever job I apply for, he’ll give me a good reference.”
“In the meantime, you’re going to go back to school.”
“Not going back. Going. I never went to college.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” I take a sip of water realizing there’s plenty I don’t know about her.
“You don’t think I should, do you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m trying to read your face and you don’t look too thrilled about any of it.”
“I was thinking it through. That’s all. I would never talk you out of doing something to better yourself. Intelligence is sexy. I mean you’re already are sexy. And smart.”
She smiles more – one of those beaming smiles that makes her eyes sparkle. “Stop gassing me up.”
“I promise you I’m not,” I tell her.
“Yes, you are. Before, you said I was a bad waitress.”
“You are a bad waitress,” I say, laughing. “You spilled water on me twice, Shiloh.”
“It was an accident.”
“Yeah, but a seasoned waitress wouldn’t make that mistake.”
She darts her tongue out at me. If I was close enough to her, I’d taken it inside my mouth.
“Let me know how much tuition is and I’ll take care of it.”
“No.”
“There’s no need to argue with me about it.”
She squeezes her lips together to blow off steam.
“What time is your appointment?”
“It’s at two.”
I glance at my Rolex. It’s 12:35. “Good.”
“Why’s that good?” she asks, chewing.
“I’m going to be working in the home office for a few hours this afternoon. With you gone, I can concentrate on getting some work done instead of having my way with you on the kitchen counter.”
She playfully narrows her eyes at me. “Then maybe I should change my appointment.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Magnus
I have food delivered for dinner – ribeye steak, mashed potatoes and broccoli. When I’m home, I usually have Lucille do the food orders for me but since she’s gone, I do the honors, ordering enough for Shiloh.
I watch her eat a few bites before I start on my food. It’s around that time I begin to feel angst take over, yet a wave of passion that presents itself only when she’s around takes over my mind. I want her. Again. That bothers me.
I drop the knife and fork on my plate and drink tea instead.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, those eyes locked on me.
“Yeah.”
“I wish the look on your face matched your answer.”
I drink more tea, then slouch in my chair, still looking at her.
“Magnus—”
“Don’t nag me,” I tell her. “I said I’m fine.” I toss a piece of broccoli in my mouth. “How’d it go today at the college?” My mood is still conflicted but I try to make conversation with her.
“Good.”
“Good? That’s it?”
“Yes. She laid everything out on the table.”
“Everything like what?”
“The classes, the two-year program I inquired about.”
“Which program is that?”
“Information technology.”
I nod. It’s a good field to be in. “How much are they talking?”
She hesitates, then says, “Ten thousand a year.”
“Not bad. You should definitely sign up if it’s something you want to do. It’s not like you don’t have the money.”
“I don’t have the money. I gave you all the money back.”
“Your point?”
“My point is, I don’t have it.”
“You have me. I’m worth five billion so whatever you want, it’s yours.”
She gives me a look as if I’ve insulted her. “I don’t want your money, Magnus.”
“I know. That makes me want to give it to you that much more.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you, Shiloh and to be honest, I don’t know why this is happening.”
She frowns. “You don’t know why what is happening?”
“This. You. My attraction to you. My desire to be with you. I’m sitting here eating this steak when what I really want is you. And I don’t usually eat with anyone. I eat alone. But here I am sharing dinner with you. When I’m at work, I can’t concentrate for thinking about you. I can’t focus. I’m sitting in high-level business meetings thinking about you. Thinking about where you are. What you’re doing. Who you’re with. Thinking about your feelings. Your emotions. Your happiness. Whether you’re happy or sad. Whether you’re hungry or whether you’ve eaten or if you’re having a good day. These are all the thoughts running through my mind when I’m supposed to be running a billion-dollar company. Thoughts of you. I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t know why I want you so much. I don’t know why I’m sharing dinner with you right now. So, no, I don’t know why this is happening. I just want to eat. In peace. Without thinking about you. Without thinking about anything.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she says wiping her mouth. She stands and takes her plate from the table.
“Sit down.”
“I don’t want to cause you any anxiety. I can eat alone, Magnus. It’s not a problem. Really.”
“I said, sit down.”
“I heard what you said, but—”
“Sit down, please.”
She stares at me, debating whether now is a good time to defy me. She walks back but doesn’t sit. She leaves her plate on the table and says, “On second thought, I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Shiloh, come here.” I can tell right away she doesn’t want to but walks over anyway. When she’s close, I turn to her while I’m still sitting. I reach for her backside and pull her closer. “Do you think this is really what I wanted when I said what I said? For you to get up and leave?”
“I don’t want to cause you any anxiety, Magnus,” she says looking down at me, her eyes weak. Voice soft.
“Kiss me,” I tell her.
“Now, you’re contradicting yourself.”
“My confession to you was one huge contradiction, girl, but there’s one thing I’m certain about.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want you.”
“You always want me.”
“I do. I’m not denying that. Now, kiss me.”
She sighs heavily. Her breath smells like food and makes me want her even more since I haven’t finished eating. I’m still hungry.
“Don’t make ask you again, Shiloh.”
She tries her best to hide a smile, then inches her head closer to mine. Lips closer to mine. I feel her fingers brush across my ears and glide across my head. I close my eyes and channel her energy. Her hands come to rest beside my face and then I feel our lips touch. She’s gentle. Don’t know why. She knows that’s not how I like it, but I gave her control to do what she wants so I let her do that.
She moans, stroking her hands across my head. Her breaths become rapid. Needier. She pulls my bottom lip between hers and nibbles. She shoves her tongue into my mouth, taking deep, needy kisses. She grips the back of my head and laves my mouth. My hands tremble when they squeeze her softness. I want her so bad, I can’t focus.
I shouldn’t need her this much. Just had her a few hours ago.<
br />
But I need her again.
Like I’ve never had her at all.
I peel off those tight yoga pants she has on and grab handfuls of flesh. I nearly rip off her bra and take mouthfuls. Before I can take my next breath, I have her on the edge of the dining room table, pushing into her like a madman.
“Magnus,” she moans.
Music to my ears. I love to hear her cry out for me. Love to know what I’m doing to her. She’s holding on to me. I’m controlling this. So deep inside her, I feel like she’s a permanent part of my body. I got her right where I want her, taking these rhythmic strokes, one after the other.
She sings loud moans into my ear. She screams, calls out for me. Drowns me with sweet honey while her body quivers in my grasp. I see a kaleidoscope of colors when I feel the intensity of my release building and then I explode and give it all to her.
My body is on fire.
This is insanity. Madness.
“Mmmmm,” I hum.
I look at her. Clammy face and all. I still don’t know why she does this to me.
“Are you okay?” I hear myself asking. I care about her. Otherwise, why would I inquire?
She panting as she nods and bites down on her lip. I’m still inside her, not certain if I’m ready to leave.
“Are you?” she whispers.
“Never better,” I respond.
She pants. Smiles at me.
I decide I’m not ready to disconnect our bodies after all. I go for another kiss. She’s all too willing to accept as I take her all over again.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Shiloh
I don’t hear from Magnus all day on Wednesday until I get a text message from him at exactly 6:15 p.m.:
Magnus: Where are you?
Since it’s after six, I assume he’s home and has discovered that I’m not. I’m working tonight. Rico called me in again. I hit Magnus back with the identical question.
Shiloh: Where are you?
Magnus: I’m still in Uptown. Where are you?
Now I’m curious about why he’s asking me where I am. I swear he’s installed a tracker on the Porsche.
Shiloh: How do you know I’m not home?
Magnus: Just a feeling. Are you at the bistro?
Shiloh: Yes.
Magnus: :-)
Shiloh: A smiley face? Really? From you? So odd…
Magnus: I’ll be there in ten minutes.
Shiloh: Why?
Magnus: Why do you think?
Shiloh: Because you’re hungry?
Magnus: You could say that…
Shiloh: FYI, there won’t be any hoisting me up on the walls or the tables in here so get it out of your mind.
Magnus: Looks like I’ll have a lesson on self-restraint, then.
Shiloh: :-) Oh, and you’ll have to sit at the bar. Full house tonight. Also, I don’t work the bar.
Magnus: You will when I get there.
Shiloh: Rules are rules, Magnus Jude…
Magnus: Rules are made to be broken, Lo. YOU should know that better than anyone else. Besides, if I slide Rico a cool hundred, he’ll do whatever I tell him.
Shiloh: It’s that simple, huh?
Magnus: You’ll see.
I see Magnus the moment he walks in. All eyes shift to him like he’s a celebrity and why wouldn’t they? He owns every room he steps in. He’s the full package. Handsome and wealthy. He has the it factor that makes men and women look at him as they try to determine if he’s someone famous or just a black man with a bankroll.
He sees the looks. Ignores them as usual.
There’s one bartender on staff today. He asks Magnus if he’s ordering anything. Magnus holds up his hand, signaling him no. Then he glances around. Looking for me.
I decide to have a little fun with him. I sneak up behind him then lean to whisper in his ear, “You got all these women rubbernecking in here tonight.”
“Yet, the one I want pretended she didn’t see me come in.” He turns around in his chair and looks at me.
“I wasn’t pretending. I saw you. I was hoping you didn’t see me so I could sneak up on you.”
He leans forward, plants a solid kiss on my lips – first time we’ve ever kissed in public.
“Hi,” I say, all smiles.
“Hi. I want you to serve me.”
“It would be my pleasure, Magnus St. Claire.”
While the other patrons at the bar have to wait on the bartender for drinks and a different waitress for their food, I’m tending to Magnus hand and foot. Everything he asks for, he gets. He switched it up on me tonight and ordered a different wine. Different tapas. He still got his water. Still wanted the two lemon slices on the side.
When a table in my section is free, he moves there. I bring his drink for him and then return to the kitchen to get his food.
“Thank you, Lo,” he says, looking at my name badge. “Do your customers really call you that?”
“Yeah. That’s how I introduce myself. Some stupid guys were making fun of it earlier, asking me how low could I go.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t here to witness that. I’d clocked them.”
“You wouldn’t…”
“I would’ve. I’m the only man who’s allowed to flirt with you.”
I smile. “How’s the food?”
“It’s good.”
“Okay. I’ma let you enjoy that while I run to check on my other tables.”
“Okay, lover. Don’t spill no water on anybody.”
My cheeks turn red as I blush and walk away from him. I bring food and drinks to my other customers, then I glance over at Magnus. He winks at me. I smile back faintly, thinking about my conversation with Lucille. She told me he was suicidal – something I can’t fathom but also something I can’t ignore although that’s what I’ve been doing since she told me – ignoring it. I wanted to bring it up, but there’s never a right time. Suicide is not what you would call pillow talk.
When I get a chance, I’m back to Magnus. “Do you need anything?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“What?”
“You.”
I smile.
He doesn’t. Just stares at me. Then he asks, “What time is your shift over?”
“Nine.”
“Okay. It’ll take us thirty minutes to get home. As soon as we walk through those doors, you’re mine.”
“I can’t wait.”
I walk away from him, all smiles as I head for the kitchen to grab more food when a tipsy guy at the bar slaps me on the butt to get my attention. What ensues next happens so quickly, it takes me, the waitstaff and all the customers nearby completely off guard. Before I could slap the drunk customer for touching me, Magnus is out of his seat pummeling the guy, yelling, “You put your hands on my wife? You put your hands on my wife?”
His hits are hard. Scares the life out of me. Yet, I feel a certain level of security with his protection. No one has ever fought for me. I’m accustomed to fighting my own battles.
Rico struggles to pull Magnus off of the guy, saying, “He’s drunk, man! He’s drunk. Let it go!”
Rico finally manages to get Magnus away from the guy. The drunk man is on his feet and stubbornly pushes Rico away when he asks if he needs medical attention.
Rico then asks if I’m okay. Before I can answer him, Magnus tells me to get my things. Says we’re leaving. My shift isn’t over yet, but I ask no questions. I gather my stuff and we leave.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Magnus
The music is up loud. She has my mind gone. I didn’t mean to beat the crap out of that guy but he crossed the line. Put his hands on her. I couldn’t let that slide.
My adrenaline is still high as I follow her home. I pull behind her in the driveway, the brake lights of the Porsche beaming bright and red back at me in the darkness. On the drive here all I could think about was which room I’ll have her in. Thought about the Range, the Porsche and the veranda but it’s too cold for that. I’m d
esperate.
She puts the car in park, releases the brakes and shuts off the engine. She gets out. I hop out of the Range.
“Are you okay, Magnus?” she asks.
“I am,” I say without bringing up the bistro brawl.
“Why didn’t you park in the garage like you normally do?” she asks.
I hear the question, but I don’t hear it. I have a one-track mind tonight. I thought I told her that already.
I walk over to her. She’s still standing next to the car. The light from the moon highlights certain parts of her face. The bridge of her nose. Her bright eyes. Cheekbones. Those lips I’m positively addicted to.
“Magnus,” she says.
I love the way she says my name along with the look on her face – one that shows a blend of confusion and fear. She has no idea what I want to do to her.
I rest my hand beside her face. She closes her eyes. I press my lips to hers. Take her lips into my mouth. She’ll be my after-dinner dessert. I can’t think of anything sweeter.
I feel the chill in the air circle around us but our mouths are merged together in heat, keeping us both warm. I can tell she knows me more intimately. Her kisses are as intense as mine. As needful. As desperate.
I pull my mouth away from hers. Don’t want to, but I also don’t want her to be cold. Leading her by the hand, we walk up the steps to the front door. She’s punching in the unlock code on the keypad – an access code only three people know. I grab a handful of her butt.
“Magnus, you’re making me lose my concentration.”
I squeeze. “I’ve always wanted to squeeze your booty in these tight pants you wear to work. We have to talk about your work wardrobe. I can’t have men after you.”
“Stop it. That guy was drunk. You’re the only one who stalks me at work.”
“Yeah, I better be the only one,” I tell her, then snatch her hand from the keypad. I spin her around, hoist her up against the heavy glass door and shove my tongue in its new home. She holds on to me, pulls my head to her. Her tongue swims around in my mouth the same way mine laps hers.