Positive/Negativity

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Positive/Negativity Page 4

by D. D. Lorenzo


  I could feel the heat and color creeping up my chest and neck as I blushed and quickly opened the door.

  Once inside, I felt the need for air and a bit of composure, so I attempted to put a bit of distance between us by inviting Declan on a tour of the house. He grinned at my clever ploy, but he took my hand as I led him, room by room, telling him stories of our family vacations on the Fourth of July. He patiently listened to my recanting tale after tale, through tours of the living room with its wicker furniture, dining room with a family size table, and the kitchen where I animated remembering my dad cooking. He laughed at some of the stories, and he was interested with regard to the history of the building. As we went up the stairs, he was impressed with the sizes of the bedrooms, each with their double and single beds. The one thing that piqued his curiosity was the closet. My Uncle Bill couldn’t bear to paint it because, every year, the kids wrote on the interior walls. We never thought that my uncle was aware of the declarations of “I love Matt”, “Rich loves Shirl”, “Debbie and Gary forever!” or “P luvs H”. There were writings of “Britt and Amber—BFF”, “Di loves Keith” and “Harv was Here, Summer of 2000”. Declan thought the little closet was like a time capsule. I told him that my uncle confessed to me that he knew, all the way back then, that we were writing on the walls in there, but he just kept reading the walls at the end of every summer. He thought it was endearing, really, that so many of us kids had such great vacations there; and we did.

  As we walked back down the stairs, Declan still held my hand. I knew that if I didn’t want to end up in bed with him that night, I needed to end the date. I had to attempt to be firm, although I didn’t know if I could resist another of his kisses. I didn’t want Declan to think that I was a woman who took sex too casually. He was worldlier than me, and women threw themselves at him, but I was a person who invested my emotions before I invested my body.

  We had almost reached the bottom of the stairs, but I had a strategy to see him eye-to-eye and be firm. I stayed on the second step to equalize our height difference so I could look into his eyes as I spoke.

  “Thank you for today,” I said, and I continued to hold his hand.

  He could tell what I was doing because he narrowed his eyes at me.

  “You’re welcome,” he said as he slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me in to him. I could tell that he didn’t want it to end. He was onto my game, and he was trying to entice me. I could tell he was a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

  “It was nice spending time with you,” I said as I looked at him with genuine appreciation and affection, but an attempted firm resolve.

  “It was nice spending time with you,” he said in the lowest, growling, and sexiest voice I’d ever heard. “I want to spend more time with you.”

  His intentions were crystal clear. He wanted to play, and I was losing my grip. I was now convinced that Declan Sinclair could sweet-talk the panties off of a nun!

  Attempting to gain what little control I had on my escalating libido, I said, “I really want to spend more time with you too.”

  My voice was betraying me. It was barely a whisper due to my failing determination. That and his sexuality had sucked all the air and resolve from me.

  Staring into his eyes, I could see a glimmer of playfulness. It looked like he was going to concede, but let me think I won—this time.

  “I think dinner at Fresco’s this Friday would be nice. I’ll call you with the details.”

  It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He made it seem as if he were letting me have my way, at least for this date. The next one was his. It was where we would go, when we would go. That was that. Without warning, his other arm went around my waist and up my back, bringing me close to him. My breasts were crushed against the massiveness of his chest muscles. It hurt in a good way to be held that closely and that hard by this man. How can two opposite feelings have such a glorious effect? Declan claimed and dominated me. He also frightened me. His kiss announced to me that I was going to be possessed by him. The timing was the only question. He possessed an aura of power and strength. I foolishly thought that I was gaining some leverage by standing on a step where we’d be placed face-to-face, but instead, he released me and looked me in the eye. In what could only be described as an impression of velvet steel, he gave me one last directive; “Wear something sexy.” He then released me and walked to the door. He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

  “Have your phone charged, beautiful,” then he walked down the steps.

  After watching him walk down the street, I was now left alone and wired from all the coffee to gather my sanity—and to spar with some new found confusion and frustrations.

  …but while walking down the street, Declan’s proudly thought that what may have started out as coffee, ended as Espresso—intense and stimulating…

  T Take Your Hand – Usher

  TT Kiss Me – Ed Sheehan

  TTT All or Nothing at All – Diana Krall

  Declan was thoughtful as he stretched himself on his expansive, king-sized bed. Realizing that the self-entitlement mindset he adopted was not going to faze Aria, he took a reflective step back. In New York he was accustomed to having his every need attended, including his needs from women. Only needing to name the place and time, they would show up and the evening would be satisfactory for both of them, no strings attached. Not so with Aria. When he called her to give her the details about their dinner at Fresco’s, she politely declined. That was a shock, to say the least, and a blow to his ego. When he asked her why, she simply said that it appeared he was used to a “different” type of woman, but she thanked him for the invitation. Knowing immediately that his intensity, and possible arrogance, may have frightened her off, he waited a few days and approached her on the beach. Putting on his most genuine behavior, and making her the best cup of “dessert” that he possibly could, he had her smiling within the hour. After that near fiasco, Declan thought it best to take it slowly with her and attempt more casual outings. Simple lunches, walks on the beach, and even the movie theater had earned his way back into her good graces. They were at a place now where they were having fun and enjoying the company of each other.

  Knowing that his thoughts always wandered down a lusty road when he thought of her, he had to adjust himself. Memories of Aria filled him with potent thoughts, which he welcomed. As he remembered his dates with her, he was convinced that the charm she brought out in him came from a different place. He wanted her to see the “real” him. Their conversations, once just casual, had become deeper and more thoughtful. He spoke with her of things that he never shared with anyone else, and he liked it. Their dinner at Fresco’s hadn’t yet taken place, but he knew that eventually it would. T

  This morning, as nearly every morning for the past several weeks, his thoughts went to her, imagining her lying naked there beside him and more than willing. Oh, yeah…he had definitely gotten glimpses down her shirt, and he noticed how her soft skirts skimmed her curves, or that she didn’t bother to tie the strings that fell from the neckline, leaving her shirts to graze her collarbone.

  Dear God! The girl affected him. It seemed he was constantly adjusting his seating to avoid discomfort when he was out with her. He had to continually pull his gaze back up to her kaleidoscope eyes. He listened to her conversations about the rewards of performing hair services for people that truly appreciated it, her work on the houses, her dad, and the many other topics of conversation that endeared her to him. However, the male in him was drawn in to her lips when she spoke. They were so luscious and full, and he always found himself wanting to crush his on to hers. He could feel himself salivating at the thought of sucking that bottom lip and taking her tongue. His mind definitely was mapping out what direction his body wanted to take.

  He had to reach down to adjust himself. Damn! Normal physical changes of the morning were exacerbated when he thought of Aria, and it caused him excruciating amounts of discomfort—bo
th physically and mentally. It was time to get into the shower and take matters into hand.

  Out of the shower and having made a full pot of coffee, Declan made his way toward the porch. She was already sitting on the beach. He was back in the kitchen and out on the porch with a companion cup of “dessert”. He loved being near her each day and she now looked for him every morning. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but they were now part of each other’s day. The revelation caused him to smile.

  “Hey,” he said as he approached her.

  She looked up, and he could see himself reflected in her sunglasses. He was beginning to hate those damn sunglasses. He couldn’t read her eyes when she wore them.

  “Hey, yourself,” she said cheerfully.

  “I thought I’d bring you a cup,” he said as he handed it to her.

  She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She took a sip. “It’s perfect.”

  “How are you this morning, beautiful?”

  She moved over a bit to indicate that he could sit, and he lowered himself next to her. Gazing at the many things surrounding them from their vantage point on the beach, he could see why she liked it. The long fishing pier and the rides such as the huge Ferris wheel were to the right and he could see how the beach curved with the numerous jetties and lifeguard stands. If he looked straight ahead, there was an expansive view of the Atlantic Ocean.

  Aria leaned her head over and rested it on Declan’s shoulder. He was a large, muscular guy. Not much physically intimidated him but he felt small, almost insignificant in comparison to his surroundings. They sat there for several minutes, in peaceful silence, sipping coffee and feeling the warmth of the sun as it rose in front of their eyes. It was captivating, and sitting with her by his side made it perfect. He was moved emotionally. It was a new and different experience for him, one that he liked very much.

  His travels had taken him all over the world, and he thought that he’d seen sights that had moved him. However, sitting here with Aria on the beach, in silence, he felt dominated by the appeal of this natural beauty and this enchanting woman. He was so out of his element.

  “I’ve wanted to ask for this for a while? Why do you always like to come to this spot?” I remember when I first saw you, I watched you for weeks coming here almost every day.”

  Thinking for a minute then said, “I’m not sure. This is where most of my beach memories started, I guess. Here is where I have my first carefree memories. Dad worked two jobs, and Mom worked at home. When we came to the beach, everyone relaxed. I have my earliest recollections of going into the ocean with my mom and dad. They each would hold my hands, one at each side, and lift me to jump over the waves. I would search for the seashells and sand crabs right here. Behind us is where we’d put our beach chairs and lay our blankets when the teenagers were allowed to come to the beach by ourselves, and we’d bury each other in the sand. One time, I had gotten sick from going on the Loop-O-Planes five times in a row with my cousin, Ann. We rolled on the sand, holding our stomachs, and vowed never to go on that ride again. I came here with my friends for Senior Week, and I’d been dared to sing in public right over there. This is also where I’d gotten my first kiss from a ‘summer fling’. When I was at college, this is where I’d think of going when I was stressed. When Dad died, it was the place I wanted to come to and cry about losing him. This is my ‘happy place’ and my ‘sad place’. It’s just my place.” She still had those damn sunglasses on, so I couldn’t see her eyes, but I detected emotion in her voice. She reached over and took my hand. “In spite of the rocky start we had” she laughed, “I now have another good memory. This is the place where I met you.” TT

  That statement caused my heart to squeeze in my chest. I reached over and took her glasses from her as I had desperately wanted to look into her eyes. We sat there in silence, but her eyes spoke directly to my heart. She had rendered me momentarily speechless, but composing myself I squeezed her hand.

  “I envy him,” I said.

  “Envy who?” she asked as she turned towards me, confused.

  “The boy who was your ‘summer fling’ and got that kiss.”

  She looked at me and leaned her head on my shoulder. I cupped her chin and stared right into those lovely eyes that affected me down into my soul. They began to fill with tears. I now understood why she kept her eyes covered; because they always betrayed her emotions. They showed that this woman was in no way false. She couldn’t counterfeit her emotions if her life depended on it. The genuine love she felt was displayed in a brilliant array of colors; and I was privileged to witness the display.

  Placing my hand under her chin, I put my lips to hers. She was soft, tender, honest…and I wanted more. Every moment with her was another moment that I wanted to know her—in every way. I brought my hand behind her head and pulled her to me, and she met me, eagerly. I could feel emotion and desire. I tried my tongue at the entrance of her mouth, and she allowed me access, with a soft moan. The moan…oh, that was what made me completely lose myself in her. It was what did me in. It blew my mind because it seemed so impossible. Our little bits and pieces of movie dates, walks, coffees and conversations had, over this brief amount of time, begun to grow us into we. I was becoming hers as much as she was becoming mine, and I was enjoying the journey.

  I held her back and gently lowered her into the sand. My chest came down to press against her breasts as I continued my conquest of her mouth. She was a desirable woman. Her sensuality was like a drug, and I craved to be addicted. I could feel that I was going to lose all control, and I wanted to undress and see, feel, taste, and smell all of her. My senses were brought to reality when I heard voices in the distance. This was not the place where I’d wanted to take her; make love to her. She was more precious to me than to display her, and I didn’t want to share any part of her.

  I pulled away from her and looked at her enticing lips, which were now swollen after my impulsive and public rape of them. She caused me to lose all sense and control when I was with her. For a moment, I feared that I might have pushed her too fast or too hard as I did after our coffee date. Searching my face to read my emotions, she settled her focus on my eyes.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  I pulled back and released her a bit.

  “Don’t what?” I asked, puzzled. I thought my fears were confirmed; I thought that I’d hurt, pushed, or embarrassed her.

  “Don’t envy my Summer Fling,” she said, and she presented me with a very coy smile. “You’re a much better kisser than he was.”

  She giggled, and it broke the tension. Together, we smiled and burst into laughter, realizing that we looked like a couple of passionate, sex starved kids making out on the beach for the first time. My beautiful girl had a wicked streak—and I liked it!

  After awhile, we stood and brushed the sand from our clothes.

  “Want to walk back to the house?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she replied, and I reached for her hand.

  We walked with our coffee cups and stepped up from the beach onto my small, boarded walkway. Once we got into the house, we both headed for the coffee.

  “Tell me, Declan,” she started. “You asked a question. Now I have one.”

  “Shoot. What’s your question?”

  “Why here? Why this beach? You told me yesterday you’ve been all over the world, so why settle here?”

  “I guess I’m similar, but not exactly the same, as you,” I started. “My mom, my brother and I, came here for vacation when I was growing up. It was close to home, and it was something different from our neighborhood. I don’t remember many vacations with my dad. Just a few, but I remember Mom walking us up the Boardwalk, getting us ice cream every night. We did chores when we were little and received an allowance. We could use that for spending money on vacation. Our meals weren’t at restaurants; it was mostly pizza and hot dogs, stuff like that. We went on rides, swam in the ocean, and lay on the beach, just like you. We walked through Ocean Gallery and looked at all the
paintings with her. That was the only art gallery she could afford and they had artists from all over the world, or so it seemed. She would buy and read a book on the beach. It was those times that I remember her smiling the most. When I decided I wanted to buy a place to relax—really relax—this was the place that kept coming to mind. It was the beach and being near the ocean that felt like home.”

  “Didn’t you look for a long time or dream about what you’d do with it when you found it?”

  “No. I’m not as emotionally invested as you when it comes to houses. You’ve looked all through this house, and it looks good to you, right?” I asked.

  She nodded in confirmation.

  “I hired a realtor to do the research for me, I checked out whatever he found when I was around D.C. or New York, and that’s when this place came up. I liked it when I saw it. When I left to go on another shoot, I hired a painter, told him the colors, and it was done when I came back. Then I went to a decorator, looked through a book, and told them what I was going for. They put this together. It was really more of a necessity. To really say it briefly; I needed a house, and I wanted to live here. This is the house. I live here. End of story.”

  “Well, they all did a good job. It seems to reflect you. You look like you ‘fit’ here. It isn’t always easy to find people who’ll see your vision.”

  “I guess, for the most part, they reflected what I wanted in this house. Of course, the bed was mine. I picked that out.” I crooked my eyebrow at her suggestively and gave her the most wicked smirk I could possibly muster.

  She blushed. I just loved that she did that.

  Declan was so powerfully, sexually charismatic as he arched that eyebrow and talked about his bedroom. His intensity was one of the things I was beginning to love about him, but it was the thing that almost made me decide not to see him again.

 

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