by Kim Shaw
Monte nodded. He got into position, bent his legs at the knee and focused on the serve. It took Kurt and his partner, Jeffrey, a full two additional minutes to put the game away. They shook hands and offered a rematch, which Monte declined.
“All right, what’s up, man?” Brent asked as they headed back to the locker room.
“I’m just a little tired, man. Haven’t been sleeping well lately,” Monte said, trying to shrug the loss of the game as no big deal.
Brent wasn’t fooled. He considered his friend for a minute before speaking.
“Does that lame response mean you don’t want to talk about it or that it’s too painful to talk about just yet?” Brent said as he popped the combination lock on his locker.
Monte chuckled, which was the closest he’d come to a smile in days.
“I guess a little bit of both,” he said.
“All right, man, I won’t pry. But I will tell you this. Sometimes things seem worse than they really are when you keep them locked inside your head. Talk about it and, voilà, a molehill instead of a mountain.”
“I hear you, man. Thanks,” Monte said.
The truth was that Monte didn’t trust himself not to break down at the mere mention of Torie’s name. He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d walked out of her apartment three days ago. He felt like a heel in the way he was handling the news that she was relocating to the west coast, a childish one at that. Monte was more upset with himself than with Torie. He had heard the warning bells, had seen the hesitance from her, but he had pushed ahead, anyway. He’d let his heart lead his mind and logic because unconsciously he had been starved for the love and companionship of a woman. Torie had hit that soft spot inside of him that he thought had long ago turned to stone. With her beauty, grace, talent, intelligence and humor, she’d dusted the frost off his soul and made him believe in second chances. The truth was that Monte was terrified that his second chance had just slipped through his fingers. Maybe he’d been wrong, after all, to even try for a second chance at love.
Their lunchtime exercise over, Monte and Brent returned to the office. Monte had just sat down behind his desk, determined to plow through the pile of documents in front of him before quitting time at five o’clock, when his secretary buzzed him.
“Mr. Lewis, Ms. Turner is headed back to see you. Is that all right?” Margaret said.
It was no secret around the office that Monte and Torie were seeing each other—at least, it was definitely not a secret from Margaret. Margaret had been Monte’s right-hand woman since he’d become a senior associate, six years ago. She was a woman of a certain age, who understood the value of discretion in both professional and personal matters. Monte trusted Margaret with the most sensitive information and she had never once betrayed him.
“Uh, Margaret, can you, uh, tell her…just tell her I’m busy?” Monte stammered into the handset.
“Well, then, I’ll wait,” Torie said.
She was standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the knob. The look on her face told Monte that he could not run anymore.
“Never mind, Margaret,” he said, pressing the release button on the telephone.
He slowly returned the handset to its cradle and stood from his desk. Torie moved farther into the office and closed the door behind her. There was a deafening silence for the first few moments. Monte moved to one of the low-back chairs in front of his desk. Torie took the seat next to him. She laid her purse in her lap, adjusted and readjusted it. No longer able to withstand the agony of the lack of sound, Monte spoke.
“I should have called you,” he said.
“Yes, you should have,” Torie replied.
“I was upset. But that was no reason to ignore your calls. I’m sorry,” Monte said.
“And I’m sorry…for keeping you in the dark, for not being honest with you.”
Torie sighed. She’d been waiting three days to say those words, and now that they were out, she felt as if a brick had been lifted from her chest.
“So, now that we’re both sorry…” Monte began.
“I’m not sure, Monte. I just know that if we don’t talk to each other, then we’ve already lost. And—” Torie placed her right hand on Monte’s knee “—I don’t want to lose you. That much I do know,” she said.
Monte didn’t need to hear another word at the moment. As far as he was concerned, everything else could wait. He leaned forward, enveloping Torie in his arms and pulling her close to his chest.
“I missed you so much,” he said.
“Me, too.”
They sat holding each other for what felt like a sweet eternity. In that eternity there was no discord between them; there was only blossoming romance and carefree days and nights. It was Monte’s ringing telephone that finally brought them back to the present.
“Look, you’ve got work to do. I didn’t mean to barge in here and disrupt your day,” Torie said, collecting herself. “I just couldn’t take another minute of this.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m glad you came. We can’t both be stubborn.” Monte smiled.
“Do you want some company tonight?” Torie asked as she rose to leave.
“I’d love your company,” Monte said.
Torie blushed. She leaned down, kissing Monte delicately on his lips.
“Why don’t you pick me up on your way home. I’ve got a couple of things I want to give to Joshua and Josiah,” she said.
Monte watched Torie depart. As he plowed through the rest of his day, he realized that the headache he’d been nursing for the past couple of days had dissipated. In its place were only positive images of his future. He held on to those pictures, hoping to will them into reality.
That night, with the boys sound asleep and his mother safely tucked into bed, Monte wasted no time making up for his immature behavior. He wanted to show Torie just how much she meant to him and also wanted her to think about what her nights on the west coast without him would be like.
Torie sat engrossed in the ten o’clock news and, when it was over, she realized that Monte had disappeared from the family room quite some time ago. She turned off the television and the lights and made her way to his bedroom. The door was closed and she wondered for a moment if he’d fallen asleep. She tapped lightly on the door twice.
“Come in,” Monte called from the other side.
Torie turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly. Her eyes were met with a soft glow in an otherwise lightless room. She stepped inside and shut the door softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, taking it all in. So no wonder he had slipped away from her. Who had time for news when a scene for seduction needed to be set?
Fragrant votive candles were placed all around the room—on the dresser, on the headboard and on top of the armoire. A low fire burned in the fireplace. Monte lay on a comforter in front of the fire. He wore nothing but gray satin pajama pants that hugged his muscular lower body just enough to cause Torie’s stomach muscles to contract. The fluffy goose-down pillows from his bed were also on the floor beside him. He’d set out a tray of white wine, fresh strawberries still wet from washing and a dish of Hershey’s Kisses chocolate candy, already unwrapped and ready to be savored.
“I was wondering when you were going to come to bed,” Monte said seductively.
“I would have come in here a whole lot sooner if I’d only known what was waiting for me.” Torie smiled.
She walked slowly toward Monte, stopping when she reached the outskirts of the comforter. She pulled the black T-shirt she wore over her head, tossing it to the floor beside her. She watched Monte’s eyes widen as he took in her full C cups. She knew just what he was thinking and the thought of what he wanted to do to her breasts caused a sensuous moisture to form in her panties. She unbuttoned the low-rise jeans she wore and slid them down her legs. When she was free of them, she stood with one hand on her hip and, with the other, she freed her hair from the decorative comb that held it in place.
Monte swallowed. “
Turn around,” he demanded.
Torie obliged. She slowly did an about-face like an obedient soldier obeying a higher officer’s command. Monte hissed when he saw that the round mounds that he loved to hold on to while she rode him were uninhibited, thanks to the thong she wore. Torie let him get an eyeful before turning slowly around again. She continued to stand, however, wanting Monte to ask for what he wanted.
“Come here,” he ordered.
She bent slowly, dropping to her knees and then placing her hands on the comforter. She crawled the remainder of the way, her eyes never leaving his. Even in the darkness of the room, with just the glow from the fire and candles, she could see that he wore the expression of a starving man who would do anything for just one morsel of food. She planned on giving him enough to fill up every inch of his body and then some.
Monte picked up one of the strawberries and held it out in front of him. Torie reached him and opened her mouth to receive the fruit. Monte rubbed it along the outline of her lips before sticking it in the opening. Torie closed her mouth around the berry, but did not bite down on it. Instead, she gave it a firm suck and then released it. Monte’s mouth fell open as he stared at her. Torie stuck out her tongue and licked the fruit in a circular motion. She let her tongue dance around its tip and then its entire circumference, before closing her mouth over it again. This time she bit down and removed a large chunk of the ripe berry. She moved closer to Monte with juice dripping down from her bottom lip. He leaned in, catching her mouth in his. They kissed and chewed until the strawberry was gone. They disengaged from their fiery kiss and Torie placed both hands on Monte’s shoulders and pushed him backward until he was lying on his back. She swung her left leg over his body and straddled him. She sat down on his upper thighs and, though he tried to pull her up higher to make contact with his throbbing manhood, she wouldn’t budge.
“Patience,” she said.
Monte may have thought that this was his stage for seduction, but Torie had quickly flipped the script on him. She was in charge and he became a willing participant in her show. She leaned forward and kissed his face more than a dozen times, her soft lips brushing against his forehead, his nose, his cheeks—each one in turn—his chin and lips. She licked his jawline, tasting his masculine sweat. She felt him tremble beneath her as his hands cupped her behind and kneaded the flesh hungrily.
“Tor-ie, mmm,” he breathed heavily.
Torie plucked a strawberry from the bowl and this time it was her turn to tease Monte’s lips with the cool, wet fruit. When she finally allowed him to take it into his mouth, he ate it greedily, pretending it was her that he was devouring instead. Torie stuck a Hershey’s Kiss in her own mouth and sucked on its sweetness for a moment before bending to find Monte’s mouth. His coolness met her sweetness and both of their senses exploded from the combination. They tongued each other, slowly and deliciously at first, more ravenously as time wore on. Torie’s breasts pressed against Monte’s heaving chest. A fine sweat began to appear on her brow, her neck and down the center of her back. It was she who had grown impatient. Although the foreplay was sensuously mind-blowing, she wanted more—needed more.
She sat up, giving Monte room to remove his pants. His erection sprang from the material like an alert snake ready to release its venom. Suddenly, Torie changed her mind. She maneuvered so that her back faced Monte, her legs straddling his. She took him in her hands, felt him thicken as she stroked him tenderly. After several moments, her mouth took over where her hands left off. Monte writhed and moaned beneath her, his breathing ragged like an out-of-breath runner. As he begged for her to stop, then begged for her to never stop, she loved him with her lips and tongue, giving every inch an equal amount of attention.
Monte clawed at Torie’s hips, pulling her legs from beneath her until she was no longer straddling, but lying on top of him, her gifts situated at eye level. From that point, it became a duel, a test of wills, as each sought to drive the other to the highest heights imaginable. Miniwaves of pleasure ripped through them individually, consecutively and then simultaneously, as if being transferred from one to another. They rested, gathering their strength, as they savored the insane gratification they’d reached, all the while wanting more.
Torie sat up and faced Monte. He picked up one of three condoms that lay next to the wine bottle. Torie watched as he tore the package open and rolled the latex down his shaft. She reached down to help him and then she took over, moving her hands up and down his pulsating member. He was ready and so was she.
When she lifted her waist, he positioned himself. She slid down deftly onto him and her waiting nest sang with satiating satisfaction. They moved together, in unison at times and in warring discord at others. They changed positions, finding ways to fill each other up. They called each other’s names in musical harmony as their bodies rose to heights as yet unchartered. It was a long time before they came back to earth, and even when they did, they both felt surreal as if they had experienced an out-of-body event. Panting, Monte opened the chilled bottle of wine, poured a glass and took a long grateful sip. He then held the glass to Torie’s parched lips as she wet her whistle. She collapsed against him and he released the now-empty glass. They lay for hours in the afterglow of their expression of love. In the wee hours of the morning, they made terrific use of the remaining two condoms, until neither had an ounce of strength left in them. In peaceful surrender, they slept until the sun peeked through the venetian blinds and kissed their tension-free bodies. Neither could predict what the future held for them and, for now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they’d found their way back to each other for the moment.
Chapter 19
Home at the Holidays
The Thanksgiving holiday brought a festive mood into the Lewis household. For the first time in the years without wife and mother, the Lewis men really felt like celebrating and giving thanks. With the help of Torie, a feast was prepared and the house was filled with holiday cheer. Monte donned his heavy sweater and fired up the electric deep fryer out on the back patio. Monte had not touched the fryer, a birthday gift from his wife, since she’d died. He made his signature fried turkey. He also baked a fresh ham, following one of Shawna’s recipes.
Torie cooked collard greens the way she was taught as a young girl by her grandmother, a true Georgia peach, and she also made baked macaroni and cheese, black-eyed peas and buttermilk biscuits from scratch. To sweeten the menu up a little, Cheryl dropped off a pan of candied yams before heading to her eldest son’s house for the day. All of the good food was made even better by the love and happiness around the table.
When Brenda Turner had first received her daughter’s invitation to join her, her new boyfriend and his family for Thanksgiving dinner, she’d considered declining. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend the holiday with her daughter. The fact of the matter was that Brenda did not approve of Torie getting involved with anyone again at this stage in her life. It was in direct contrast to what Torie had promised, and no matter how much she protested the contrary, Brenda was not entirely certain that Torie would not make the same mistakes she’d made in the past. Brenda was a woman who knew what a hefty price a woman could pay for the sake of love. She’d done it and there was no way that she’d sit back quietly and watch her only child do the same thing.
However, the holidays could be a lonely time. Darius and Sheila spent every other year with her parents in Seattle and, although they’d invited her along, she’d declined. Brenda considered the idea of staying at home alone, but the prospect of a quiet apartment and a table set for one depressed her terribly. The first-class flight Torie booked for her was also a contributing factor to her decision to come to New York. She turned out to be glad she did.
From the moment Brenda beheld Monte in person, she knew why her daughter had had such a hard time resisting him. Thirty minutes in his presence, and she knew why her daughter had fallen in love with him so quickly, despite her protests to the contrary. Brenda f
elt at ease in his home and at his table. Monte was a man who, unlike most of those Brenda had encountered in her life, was sure of himself and did not have a false bone in his body. The confidence he exuded was contagious and his good-hearted nature made people feel as though he genuinely cared about them. Brenda was no exception.
The final gold star in Brenda’s book was the two well-mannered, delightful little boys Monte was raising on his own. They amused the adults with stories about school escapades and silly knock-knock jokes. They helped set the table and carry out the covered entrées. They called Brenda “ma’am” and kept offering to do things for her. After dinner, Joshua loaded the dishes that Josiah handed to him in the dishwasher, while Monte cleared the table and stored the leftover food into the refrigerator. When Monte finally told them to get washed up and ready for bed, they did so without protest. They kissed both Torie and Brenda good-night, went in to see their grandmother, who had not been up to eating at the table with them, and went to their rooms in good cheer. That was truly a testament, Brenda knew, to their upbringing.
Later that night, while Torie drove them back to the city in Monte’s car, Brenda had nothing but nice things to say about Monte. However, her reservations about the romance had not been entirely put to rest.
“How long ago did you say Monte lost his wife?” Brenda asked.
“It’s been a little over three years.”
“Cancer, I’d bet. With all the money we spend on weapons and space exploration—and nonsense—you’d think the government would pour more money into medical research. People shouldn’t still be dying from cancer in this day and age.”
“I don’t know if it was cancer or not. Apparently, she wasn’t sick very long before she passed,” Torie answered.
“Oh. Well, I’d bet a hundred bucks it was cancer. My neighbor Paige lost her daughter to cancer last year, did I tell you? Only forty years old—brain cancer. That’s such an awful way to die,” Brenda lamented.