by S. Ann Cole
“If I asked you to unbutton your shirt, would you do it?” I asked him dully. Exhausted I was from trying to figure the man out.
“Why would you ask me to do that?”
“I’m just curious.”
He raised his brow, in that sexy way.
“I was wondering if I’d discover an S on your chest.”
Natalio grinned. Wow, I liked that. He looked young, earthly and mortal with his features relaxed. There was an unidentifiable nagging in the back of my mind about his familiarity. His boyish grin reminded of someone. And weird enough, I couldn’t seem to remember the person he reminded me of. How could he remind me of someone I didn’t remember? Was that even possible? Yeah, with my retrograde amnesia, there could be such a thing. Maybe he just resembled someone I was once fond of.
“It depends on what you want the S to mean. Superman, Savior…Sadie.” He gazed longingly at me with warm blue eyes and bit down on his lip. “I prefer the latter, though.”
All gay thoughts were decimated from my mind when I blushed. Gay men didn’t look at women like that.
“I can be anything you want me to, Sadie. For you. I can’t know what you want unless you tell me,” he said in a soft voice. His gaze lingered on my neck again and his pink tongue licked across his lower lip. Sweet savior… The temperature in here has risen.
Shifting in my seat, I quickly changed the topic. “What kind of work do you do?” That’s a question that had been lolling in my head for a while.
He stilled, eying me oddly. “I sell stuff.”
“You sell stuff? Is that even a job description?” That has got to be the most unintelligibly he’d ever spoken since I’d met him. What the hell kind of answer is ‘I sell stuff’? Unless…unless he was a drug dealer. Oh no, not again.
“Yes, it is,” he clipped.
“White stuff?”
“No. I told you, I’m not associated with your deceased. Neither am I like him,” he snarled.
“Then what do you sell?”
“Electronics. Appliances. All that junk,” he shrugged. “Why?”
“Because I barely know you. And you want to move heaven and earth for me. I need to know more about my savior.”
“I’m not important. You are,” he said. “There’s nothing fascinating or interesting about me or my life. Well, nothing has been for the last seven years…”
“You are important to me because you’re helping me,” I petulantly snapped. Why did he not want to talk about himself? Now I was over-curious. “Are you sure you aren’t a drug dealer?”
His expression grew thunderous. “Do I look like a damn drug dealer?”
“No,” I answered in truth. “But it would explain why you don’t want to talk about your job.”
“I just don’t want to talk about my job right now. It already consumes almost all of my time. I’m enjoying my pizza and you. Can’t I do just that?” He vibrated with irritation. “I allowed you to evade talking about whatever was bothering you earlier. Do the same for me. Thanks.”
“Okay. Fine. We don’t have to talk about it now. But be sure that I’ll be asking you again and again until you tell me,” I mocked, throwing his earlier words right back at him.
That won me another grin. And there’s that nagging again. When he smiled like that, all boyish and relaxed, he looked vaguely familiar.
“Tell me about your family,” I pressed. “Any brothers? Sisters? Wife? Children? Pets?” Please don’t have a wife or children.
“I have a healthy, comforting mother and a grumpy, controlling father. Two brothers, one sister, no wife, no children and my pet is in my pants,” he briefed.
“I see,” I nodded. “Where’s the passion. Not family-oriented?”
“I’d kill for them,” he deadpanned. “Are you and Devon serious?”
His question took me by surprise. Where did that come from?
Taking a sip of my wine, I answered charily. “We’ve only been on one date.”
“And you plan on going out with him again?” It sounded more like a threat than a question.
“Maybe. Yes.” Though I did find excuses twice when Devon asked me out again over the weekend. I didn’t like that he kept trying to sneak in questions about Tevin. His inexplicable interest in my friend had me wary.
“Does he treat you right?” Now he sounded avuncular.
“Yes. He’s very sweet,” I smiled. “He’s quite the gentleman.” And I’m no gentlewoman.
He wiped his hands on his napkin and refilled his wineglass. All his movements were careful and measured as his brows crinkled in thought. Taking a sip of his wine, he slowly set his glass down, laced his fingers on top of the table and lanced me with his stare. “You will not see him again. Understand?”
My head jolted back at his stern command. “Are you serious? So now you’re trying to dictate to me who I can or cannot see? You have got to be kidding me! I’m not yours.”
His gaze didn’t waver, he didn’t even blink. “A shepherd knows his sheep, and a sheep knows its shepherd. This has nothing to do with possessiveness. After all, we’re just friends, right? This has to do with your safety. Devon is dangerous. Stay away from him.”
“Unbelievable!” I laughed out. “Devon has got to be the most banal, innocuous person I’ve ever met. You are the one that’s dangerous. You are the one that I should ‘stay away’ from.”
Natalio sat back in his seat and tossed his arm over the back of the chair in a relaxed position. “I don’t do arguments, Sadie. I speak and I expect you to listen. If I tell you that the guy is dangerous and that you’re to stay away from him, then I expect you to take heed and stay away from him. That’s where it ends.”
“Are you serious?” I shrieked in disbelief.
He only stared at me for what felt like a century, then suddenly asked, “Do you believe in a man’s love, Sadie?”
Sudden turn, again. He keeps jumping from one boat to the next.
I rested my elbows on the table and dropped my chin in my palms, being sure to lock my intensified gaze on his. “There are three things that amaze me—no, four things I don’t understand: How an eagle glides through the sky, how a snake slithers on a rock, how a ship navigates the ocean, how a man loves a woman.”
“Your bible quoting doesn’t answer my question,” he said quietly, his blue eyes softening as they bored into mine. Hmm, he knows the bible… Impressive.
Deliberately, I furrowed my brows and tilted my head to the side. “How could it not?”
“Because it’s not your words. I want your words.”
“Well, no. I don’t believe in love,” I admitted.
Extremely quiet his voice came, “Why? Has someone hurt you?”
“Yes. But I don’t remember the pain or that someone. And I don’t wish to talk about it. So please, don’t ask again.”
He dropped his head in his hands. Then seconds later rubbed his hands over his face before pinning me with glossy blue irises and saying a breathy, “I’m sorry.”
He said it, and it was a combination of sadness, pain, pleading and apology. Was he sorry about bringing up the topic of love? Or was he sorry about something else? It was really hard to tell. The man was just one big ball of emotions.
And so, once again, I was left mystified by Mr. Mysterious in Black.
Chapter Seven
Deep masculine laughter swirled with soft feminine laughter above the low flowing of Common’s I Want You in Natalio’s vehicle as we drove into my apartment complex. It was Thursday, and after a long day of boozes, aggressive salty air and bawdy humor, Natalio and I had managed to slip away from an all-white yacht party thrown by Marco Levy, some multimillionaire acquaintance of Natalio’s. Of course, Natalio’s attire was an exception; he wore his usual black.
I was still in the dark about his line of work, but all the invitees of the yacht party were posh pomps who all referred to him as ‘Nelson’. The minute someone would launch a conversation with him about business, he’d cut t
hem off, reminding them he was ‘sporting’ and would rather ‘not talk about work’. And I knew it was because he didn’t want me to know. Why was he hiding his occupation from me? Unless he was indeed a dwarf of Snow White and lied about it.
Natalio had invited me out every evening since we had pizza at the rooftop restaurant. He was funny, over-intelligent and sweet—when he wasn’t fuming about inconsequential nothings. He’d pledged to earn my trust and, somehow, he thought tugging me along with him every time he got the chance would build my trust. Hardly. For he still remained stingy when I pried. We’d talk about anything and everything, excluding himself. Ergo, my trust lever remained at level one. But because of my weakness and that inexplicable connection I had towards him, I could never say no to him or stay away from him, for that matter. And when I wasn’t with him, I’d think only of him.
Miraculously, I’d managed, on our evening jaunts, to disguise my profound desire for him. Trying not to shiver when he touches me, and being sure to avert my eyes when he leers at me. Natalio, on the other hand, had not.
He’d said and, obliquely, done the most seductive, licentious, provocative things. But never touched me in the way I yearned. Transparent it was that he wanted and was very much attracted to me, like I was to him. But he didn’t say, and neither did I. Maybe it was a part of his effort to gain my trust? God, it was driving me batty!
I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him…so bad.
“Don’t forget, I’m picking you up for dinner on Saturday the minute I get back,” I heard him say.
Oh, I’d forgotten. He was flying to Michigan that evening for a two-day business trip. Miss him? I knew I would. Miss my friend. My over-amorous friend.
“Okay.” All my good humor was suddenly extinguished.
“So are you done thinking about the car yet?” he asked.
“I haven’t started thinking about it yet. My mind has been occupied with…other stuff.” With thoughts of you, on top of me. Kissing me, licking me, stroking me.
He grunted in frustration. “It’s just a car, Sadie. You need a car for work and I just so happen to have one sitting in my garage screaming to be driven.”
Just like I’m screaming to be driven into…
“You’re not gonna give up on this, are you?” Even though I already knew the answer.
This man was tenacity incarnated…
His brow arched in that sexy, turn-me-on way. “You don’t know me by now?”
“Okay. I’ll start thinking about it tonight,” I smiled sweetly.
…And I was obstinacy personified. Nice match.
He chuckled, casting his eyes upwards. “Let me walk you to your door. I won’t be seeing you for roughly two days.” Smooth and caressing was his voice. And I didn’t know if it was the three beers and two glasses of wine that I’d consumed earlier, but I was needy. Very needy.
Why oh why didn’t he just get it over with already? I knew he wanted me. Touch me, kiss me, tell me you want me. Please.
Exiting the vehicle, he rounded to the passenger side and opened the door. He took my hand when I climbed out and we walked wordlessly up the steps to my door.
At the doorway, we gazed at each other, neither of us speaking. Natalio’s face was intently daring, a fleet of humor danced across his eyes. What was he thinking now?
His raven-dark hair was mussed across his forehead and his eyes were the bluest of his variant blues. A man with black hair, black brows, black outfit and bright blue eyes was a sight to savor.
Suave and quiet, his voice sliced through the silence, “I like the way your cheeks redden when you dare to hold my stare.” He smoothed his index finger gently between my brows. “I like the crease that forms right here when you worry what I might be thinking.” Heat surged through my body, the air shifted as I was enveloped by desire. His touch was…enkindling.
“I like the way your cognac eyes dilate then go dreamy every time you yearn my touch.” His smile was tauntingly charming.
Oh! This man…
He knew. He knew I wanted him and he’d been teasing me. He’d obviated touching and kissing me all along to drive me insane?
“But most of all,” he continued, gently trailing the tip of his fingers down my neck. I closed my eyes and moaned helplessly at the tantalizing feel of his warm fingers on my neck. “I love your long, gracious, virgin olive neck.” He leaned forward as if to kiss my neck, but he didn’t. Instead, he stopped just inches away and whispered, allowing the heat of his breath the job of caressing. “I’d spend hours kissing this neck. Caressing to infinity. Adorn it with love bites.”
My mouth fell open as I labored for breath.
Oh, please. Please. Please. Kiss me. Now.
Suddenly he straightened and stuck his hand out to me as he tried to smother a smirk. “I had a lovely day, Sadie. Until Saturday?”
No. No! How could he do this?
My face arranged in a scowl at his hand, fury climbing through my veins. Forming a word or sentence was incapability at the moment. Was…too hot…too needy.
His lips lifted into an innocent smile. “Miss Francé, don’t be impolite. I’m bidding you a good evening.”
Folding my arms, I glared at him. There he stood, all self-possessed and pleased with himself. Tilting his head to one side, he gave me a lip-bitten smile. “Sadie? You look bothered. You promised you’d tell me whenever anything is bothering you.” His tongue darted out and glossed his lips. “And I promised to help.”
Teasing me, he was. Patently enjoying himself.
“You know what’s bothering me,” I hissed at him.
“No. I don’t. You have to learn to com-mu-ni-cate,” he said, syllabifying the word as if I was some hare-brained child. “Communication is key. You have to tell me what you want, Sadie. It’s the only way I’ll know.”
My tongue curled and touched the roof of my mouth as I was about to form the words and construct a filthy sentence to com-mu-ni-cate with him that I wanted him to have sex with me so hard that my eyes twist, but then my roommate Brenda came bouncing up the steps, earplugs stuck in her ears and her head bobbing, her pink workout outfit damp with sweat. Back from the gym.
Brenda had returned from New York since Tuesday. My roommate didn’t like me very much. Or so she feigned. I found it hard to believe anyone would share their apartment with someone they detested.
Brenda stopped when she noticed us, gave a curt nod and moved around me to enter the house. When she opened the door, she swirled back around like a tornado to face us—to face Natalio, rather. Her eyes enlarged as she gazed up at him.
Natalio frowned.
What’s amiss? Did she know him? Have they been together? What?
Brenda gawked a moment longer at Natalio before she blinked; her mouth opened, then closed. Once, twice, three times. Finally, she uttered a weak apology for disrupting us and walked backward into the house.
Okayyy. That was odd. And completely out of character for Brenda. She had a cavalier, perfunctory disposition—or maybe she was like that in my presence only. Maybe something was going on between them that’s to my oblivion?
“What the hell was that about?” I asked him.
Natalio shrugged and gave an I-have-no-idea expression. But I knew he was lying. I think I have that uncanny ability to detect lies the minute they are told.
“Do you know her?”
“Just that she’s your roommate. I know her no other way, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he answered, eyeing me oddly.
“Oh.”
He shifted his weight and I could tell he was worried about something. “My flight’s in an hour. I gotta go. I’ll call, text, email, telegram and BBM you,” he said, and I laughed. He shifted again. “Please don’t lose contact with me. If you get mad at me for anything, please tell me that you’re mad and don’t ignore me. I’d rather you speak to me than ignore me. Please don’t be afraid to ask me anything. And yes, I’ll answer truthfully. Okay?” His words came
rolling at me like a thunderball.
Bemused, I nodded. Where’s all that coming from? Why would I be mad at him when we weren’t even together? Anxiety emanated from him, but I knew not why.
He lifted my palm to his lips and planted a chaste kiss in the center before retreating quickly down the steps and into his X6, leaving me bereft.
Shaking my head at my failure to decipher Natalio’s perplexing behavior, I turned the doorknob and entered the apartment. Brenda was pacing the living area, her hazel eyes glittering with excitement. Silky, honey-blond hair dangled over her shoulders.
“Oh my God, Sadie! You’re dating one of the Nelsons?” she pounced at me, not giving me a chance to breathe.
“One of the Nelsons?”
“Yesssss,” she stressed, seemingly annoyed at my baffled question and waving her hand in an impatient gesture.
“How do you know them? What are they like? Are they as crude and rakish as people sa—”
I held my hand up, halting her. “Brenda, I have no idea what ‘they’ you’re talking about. I just met Natalio last week. Do you know him?”
Brenda scoffed. “Of course I do! What single woman doesn’t?”
“What does that mean?”
Brenda widened her eyes with incredulity. “You mean you really don’t know who he is? As in, who he is.” She emphasized by pointing at the door I’d just came through.
“Judging by your reaction, I think not.”
Brenda shook her head at me as if I were telling her that aliens exist and they were dwelling beneath our apartment. “Sadie, that hot sonuvabitch was Natalio Nelson. CEO of ENEN. The guy’s a freaking billionaire!”
“Henen?” I tested the word, confused. What the heck is that? And a billionaire? I snorted. Natalio didn’t act, talk or walk like a billionaire.
“Yesssss, ENEN!” She marched into the kitchen, prompting me to follow. Brenda pointed to her stove, microwave, dishwasher, refrigerator, toaster, all bearing the marque ENEN.
Ah, the brand ENEN, I thought to myself.
Brenda disappeared into her room and reappeared with a sort of tablet device, her laptop, and a smartphone all being of the same brand.