“You have to start giving me warnings when you do that!” I shrieked. “You brut!”
When he put me down, my shirt was wrinkled around my waist, exposing all my nether-regions. I felt crazy-looking as I straightened myself out.
“Now, what fun would that be if I warned you first? Furthermore, there would’ve been no need for it, had you not protested. Now, can you please have a seat.”
“I am not sitting on that beautiful material with my bare ass, Zane. Let me go upstairs and claim a pair of panties.”
“Nope,” he said, pulling the white Tommy Hilfiger tank over his head. “This’ll do.”
He walked over to my assigned seat and placed the shirt where my butt would go. Afterwards, he made his way back to conducting his chef business.
I slowly made my way over to the chair, watching him the whole time. He had his toned back to me, working some kind of magic at the stove. I stopped just short of the chair and gawked. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be in a man’s space this intimately, admiring him, the way that I was Zane. I couldn’t take my eyes away when he was in front of me. I couldn’t take my mind off of him when he wasn’t around me, either. He was good. I mean, really good—for my body and for my mind.
I liked it.
He must’ve felt me looking at him because he glanced over his right shoulder with the biggest smile. “What ya lookin’ at, sexy?” he asked me.
“Just a man with a marvelous back, is all. And a marvelous backside to go with it. Don’t mind me.”
I finally sat on the shirt he provided, feeling bad the whole time about putting my sex spot on Zane’s piece of designer clothing. But I soon got used to it.
When he finally joined me at the table, my mouth was already watering. I couldn’t wait to see what he had made. It smelled amazing. I just hoped that I didn’t have to put on an act like I liked it, whatever it was. That would make for a really awkward moment.
Please, please, please let it be good! I silently prayed to the food gods.
“Spinach omelet, home fries, and fruit,” he announced, when he put a loaded plate of deliciousness in front of me. “Here’s your toast.”
The corners of my mouth rose, my cheeks bloomed. “I’m so impressed right now,” I told him, taking one of the potatoes into my mouth. “Oh my… God. This is really good, Zane.”
“I’m glad you approve. The last thing I’d want is for you to fake, liking what I made you.”
“Nothing fake about how good I think this is.” I sliced a piece of my omelet, then stuck it in my mouth. From there, I couldn’t stop. Everything was delicious. Turkey bacon, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, onions… he had outdone himself. All for me. “This was so sweet, Zane,” I told him as he finished off his food.
I reached for the pitcher of orange juice in the middle of the table and poured myself a glass.
“Anything for you,” he said.
“And this isn’t all just to win me over?”
“Not at all. Besides, I hope I’ve already done that. You’ve definitely won me over. I wouldn’t want to be in a situation all by myself,” he said, winking at me.
“You’re for sure not there all by yourself. I was just talking out the side of my neck.” I smiled at him. “You won me over the first night.”
Zane bit down on his lip and smiled. Damn, you’re fine! I screamed in my head.
“Makes two of us. Even though you made me jack off after you left me wanting more.”
“Oh! Nooo! You never, ever told me that! That happened? Are you serious, Zane?”
“As a heart attack.”
I covered my face in embarrassment, my head twitching side to side. “I’m mortified,” I sighed, lowering my hands. “That’s horrible!”
Zane howled, loudly. “You tellin’ me! I went from being inside you, to self-service.”
“Self-service! Why you have to say it like that?! So dramatic!”
“Dramatic was the way you jetted out of there like you had an awaiting carriage. Wanna go there?”
“No, I don’t! And you better not!” I threatened, laughing really hard.
“Okay, so then, let me have my moment. I had to self-service… Not cool.”
“I get your point, sir. It’ll never happen again.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And hey, since then, we’ve more than made up for that night.”
“Yes, we have. And I plan to keep making up for that night. Any and every time you want it.”
“Oh shit. I like the hell outta that.”
We sat for more than a few pregnant pauses, getting lost in each other’s eyes. Flirting with our eyes, devouring with our eyes. For sure thinking the same freaky thoughts, and how we’d rather be doing sexy shit to each other, now that we’d both eaten, and had absolutely nowhere to be.
“So . . .” Zane started, breaking through the sexual tension. “Are you leaving me?” he asked. “I know after Skai took back off for New York you didn’t want to stay at home alone.”
“I think I’ll stick around for a while, if you’ll have me.”
Zane stood up from his chair, walked around to me and pulled my seat out. “Oh, I’ll have you alright. But I think I’ll have you upstairs. Is that okay?”
“That’s more than okay. I’ve been ready for that.”
2 | Zane
Later that evening…
I watched Giselle look around the restaurant, all the while, admiring her beauty. Her innocence. She was all-woman. I could honestly say that her ex had walked away from something that was as close to perfect, as a man could get. She was a wonderful mother. She was beautiful. Naturally beautiful, at that. With or without makeup, she was stunning. She was intelligent, funny, compassionate, a great listener, attentive. She was literally the whole package.
“Zane, you’re staring,” she said, while turning to look at me.
“Absolutely. I make no secret about it. And offer no apologies, either. That gold is a great color on you. Goes nicely against your skin’s complexion.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the compliment. Though, it’s a little chilly in here. Don’t know if I should’ve had my shoulders out,” she said with a little shimmy and a grin.
“I think I have a jacket in the car. I could—”
“No, it’s perfectly fine,” she said. “Sweet though. I’ll stick it out. I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time at all.”
“Just let me know if you change your mind. And until you do, I’ll just marvel at the view.”
“You’re making me blush, Zane.”
“I’ll try to tone it down, but it’s going to be hard. You just look so damn… good.”
She smiled over at me, then placed her elbows onto the table, and cradled her chin in her hands. “You know you didn’t have to bring me out tonight, Zane. I was purrfectly happy eating in.”
“I know. Same for me. But what I don’t want to happen, is for you to feel like you’re not being dated. Being inside is good. I love one-on-one with you. But we’ll get back there soon enough.”
She flashed me that gorgeous smile, then replied, “Got it.”
A breath of fresh air, is what she was for my life without even knowing it.
After a six-month long marriage that ended up being annulled, monogamy was the last thing on my mind. I had my mind on serial dating and fucking at-will. I thought I needed a break in time to get over being a fool. Dating a person for a year, then marrying them only to find out five months into the marriage, that she wasn’t legally divorced, would cause anybody to pause. And mentally, that’s where I was—on pause. Planted firmly—up until Skai showed me a full-body picture of Giselle in some jeans, a shimmery turquoise-colored, off-the shoulder shirt with the backout, and high heel shoes. Instantly, my thoughts reverted.
When I was initially headhunted by Crescendo, for the vacancy in Las Vegas, it was an extremely slow, yes. Vegas had never appealed to me. Seemed like a town where one would only have so far to go—something
like a glass ceiling. But then, the more they sweetened the deal: a signing bonus in the high five-figures, relocation expenses, a purchased home, a car, as well as some other perks… the more attractive it sounded. In the end, I figured I’d get here, get settled into my place, settled into the job, and then take a big-ass dip into sin.
But then there was Giselle.
Skai had to go and show me that picture. That picture with the mesmerizing eyes, with the beautiful skin, and with an aura that jumped off the iPhone screen and into my heart. Meeting after meeting with Skai, drew me further into the possibility of something with her mother.
It took Skai a while to tell me that her mother and I would be working together. I guess she wanted to leave that part out in the event I was the guy who opposed workplace romances. Not that I was. I figured if that kind of situation arose, and both people were mature enough to handle it, they should go for it.
As it turned out, Giselle and I worked in two totally different capacities, and would probably only have face-to-face interactions whenever there were meetings that involved both administration and faculty. We wouldn’t be running into each other in the hallways or anything like that. Honestly, knowing her now, I wouldn’t have minded one bit, seeing her walking through a hallway during the course of my day. Wouldn’t have minded one bit.
I’m just happy the connection happened at all. Because looking across the table at her, I fell deeper. Not in love. Not yet. But something like it. Something very close to it. I suspected that we’d be rounding that corner soon.
“You know I adore having your eyes on me. But what is it that’s going through your mind right now?” she asked, semi-seriously. “Is something wrong?”
I shook my head, then reached over and grabbed her hands into mine, tracing along the softness of fingers. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you,” I said to her.
“Me too. Crazy how it all happened. And that we had this convenient space of time to get to know each other a lot better.”
“Dare we call it fate?”
“Serendip—”
“Hey girrrl!” a cheerful voice came barging into our conversation.
Giselle’s head snapped toward the intruder who I had already spotted, but didn’t know she was coming to our table. “Ummm…” Giselle said, before a short pause. “What are you doing here?”
Standing there was a light-skinned woman, of medium height, with close-cropped hair, and a curvy frame. Her eyes were on Giselle. A huge, inquisitive smile plastered across her face. She had interrupted the peak of a deep conversation, and didn’t seem to care in the least whether she was intruding or not. She tilted her head toward me, while rubbing an area on the back of her neck to appear incognito in her actions. “Who’s… this?”
“I’m Zane. And you are?”
“I’m Ka—”
“Zane, this is Kameelah,” Giselle offered, seeming a little irritated. “She lives down the street from me.”
“Oh okay. It’s nice to meet you, Kameelah.”
“Same here, Zane,” the woman responded. Just then, a dark-skinned, athletic guy, wearing dress slacks and a long-sleeved button-down approached, and hugged her from behind. She let out a giggle when he leaned down and kissed inside the curve of her neck.
“Uhh, Kameelah…who’s your friend?” Giselle asked, throwing her own question back at her.
“My name is Reggie,” he took the liberty of saying.
“Babe, this is my friend, Giselle—who’s also my neighbor. And sitting across from her, is Zane.”
“Aye, it’s good to meet you,” Reggie stated, addressing both me and Giselle.
“Would you guys like to join us for dinner?” I asked, since Giselle and I hadn’t yet ordered anything outside of the bottle of Chateau sitting on the table.
“Giselle, is that okay with you?” her friend, Kameelah posed with a sly grin.
Giselle looked at me. I couldn’t read the look, but there was for sure a look. “Sure,” she replied.
Next thing Giselle did was scoot to the end of the booth seat. She grabbed her purse, then moved to my side to sit next to me. Even with a trip as short as that one, my eyes followed her in awe. She had me.
“Cool,” the boyfriend said, gesturing for Kameelah to slide in ahead of him.
I don’t know if I was imagining things or not, but there seemed to be a shift in Giselle’s demeanor. I didn’t know if she was upset that our time had been cut into, or if she didn’t get a good vibe from her friend’s guy. I wasn’t sure. But it was definitely something.
I reached under the table and gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?” I asked, leaning close, then kissing just under her lobe.
“I’m good,” she replied, with a pat of my hand.
But I didn’t believe her. Something was off. But since we now had company, I would wait until we were alone to probe into her thoughts.
3 | Giselle
It was going on three hours since Zane and I had gotten to Joe's Seafood, Prime Steak & Stone Crab. It had been close to two hours that we had been sharing our time with Kameelah and her date. I felt my buzz creeping up more and more, and thought it best that I finish the glass of wine that I was nursing, and call it a night after that. The food was good, conversation was flowing, but so was the activity inside my brain. Kameelah wasn’t fooling me. She wasn’t feeling this Reggie person that was hanging all over her. Her smiles were forced. Her giggles at his lame-ass jokes were overly animated. Her shoulders stiff whenever he touched her, and she barely touched her lobster dish.
I tried brushing it off at first. I thought it was because I didn’t get a good vibe from him. That I might have been projecting the way I felt onto her. But that wasn’t the case. There was something more than that. And it wasn’t good. That, I wasn’t imagining.
Kameelah’s friend unexpectedly, moved his empty plate to the side. I perked up with excitement when he did that, because I thought it meant he was about to excuse himself. But that didn’t happen. In fact, he appeared even more comfortable than before. I watched him turn and smile at her, then continued watching as he pulled his drink to his mouth. He took a long gulp of what was his fourth glass of Long Island—heavy on the tequila—as he’d requested with each one.
Damn alcoholic.
After he placed the glass on the table, he folded his arms. I cut my eyes over to Kameelah to see if there was anything present on her face. And if so… what?
As I was studying, Reggie spoke: “Okay. I got a question for the lovely couple.”
Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and my insides went warm.
“Reggie…” Kameelah attempted, a hint of pleading in her voice.
“I don’t see a ring on either one of you guys’ ring finger. So, y’all a couple? Or just hanging out? What’s the story?” he asked, flashing a grin that made me instantly go from disliking to borderline hating him.
Kameelah’s eyes bucked in surprise, as her gaze landed on mine. She then tried to subtly grab the glass of liquor that sat in front of him. However, he grabbed it before she could, then brought it to his lips yet again. The whole time his eyes shifted from me to Zane, I guess waiting to see who would answer… if we would answer.
After the initial shock wore off, I shot out, “Excuse me?” right before feeling Zane’s arm snake around my waist.
“This is my woman,” Zane offered. “That’s enough of an answer.”
The guy released a condescending chuckle. “Ohhh…” he said, leaning back in his seat. He abandoned his poison to fold his arms across his chest, defiantly. “Okay...” He glanced over at Kameelah, and then back to us. “So y’all really out here lettin’ the oppressor run up in you. No cap, that shit is wild.”
I was livid. My body went warm, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I wanted to disrespect this bastard in the worst way.
“Oppressor?” Zane challenged. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he snapped. I hadn’t
seen Zane this mad before. But his anger was just a mirror image of mine.
“Just what I said. Bed wench. That’s what it’s cal—”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Zane warned.
His tone was low, but it was also loaded with promises. This time it was my hand on his thigh. While he did remain calm, I felt the tension emitting from him, and it was a thick-ass cloud. “Don’t let him provoke you,” I urged Zane, in a hushed tone.
“Watch my fuckin’ mouth… or what?” Reggie looked around the restaurant. “We not on the plantation, Massah.”
“We’re not in the gutter either, my man. But we can be.”
“Zane…” I whispered, gripping his thigh tighter. “Don’t…”
As angry as I was, watching a person go from one extreme to another, was shocking as hell. You had to be there to see it. It was crazy.
“What’s up then? Les’go,” Reggie suggested, clasping his hands together and leaning in toward Zane. “See how many more nerves I can strike.”
“Reggie, please…” Kameelah pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. “Babe, come on. Don’t do—”
He looked down at her hand on him, causing her sentence to cut off midway. “Don’t what?” he shot.
Kameelah cowered. I watched her retreat, and I saw the fear creep into her eyes at the same time. “I-I’m just say—”
“Sayin’ what?” he hissed, staring her down.
“What the hell is your problem?” I asked.
“You. You’re my problem,” he said, addressing me.
“You don’t even fuckin’ know me,” I charged.
“Hold on, baby,” Zane said, rubbing my hand. “I got this,” he reassured me.
I hesitated for a moment before complying. “Okay.” I was ready for battle. Ready as fuck and seething.
“Hmph. So, Massah tellin’ you what to do, sis? Wow.”
“Don’t address her again. You got some shit to say, you address me. Man, to man. If you can’t do that, then it’s time for you to get the fuck up from the table. As a matter of fact, Giselle, scoot—”
Risqué 2 (Love in Sin City) Page 2