by Jewel Daniel
Kwabena stepped into the room and whistled. The dress on Tamara had his head reeling, and other parts of him doing flips. His heart thumped in excitement. He wanted to ravish her then and there. She looked up at him, her brown eyes filled with gratitude and awe.
Tamara's heart pounded as she looked at his tall, lean frame resting casually in the doorway, his smoky gray silk shirt and pleated, loose-fitting black trousers giving him debonair elegance. He was sexy. "Thank you," she said, breathless. "It's beautiful."
"You're beautiful," he said huskily, striding over to her. "But the dress is missing something."
She looked at him questioningly as he positioned himself behind her. He placed a silver half-inch-thick choker around her neck, leaving several links hanging down her bare back. His hand gently caressed her as he did, sending shivers down her spine. He next removed her gold studs and placed matching chandelier earrings in her ears. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Now it's complete," he said with a slow, sexy smile.
Tamara looked at the beautiful stranger in the mirror smiling back at her. She was so happy words failed her. Kwabena was indeed a man of impeccable taste.
He helped her into her full-length wool coat, then proffered his arm. "Shall we go m'lady?" With a gracious bow he escorted her down the stairs and out the door to a waiting limousine.
Tamara looked at him, her eyes sparkling with excited surprise. "A limousine!" The uniformed driver removed his hat and bowed. Tamara smiled as she recognized Edebe. He opened the door, settling them into the back of the limo. She looked up at Kwabena, eyebrows raised. He shrugged.
"Edebe runs a wedding and limo service," he explained as they sank into the plush leather seats. "This particular one is usually reserved for weddings and other special occasions." With that, he popped the cork on a bottle of cider and poured two glasses for them. "To us," he toasted, looking deep into Tamara's eyes, his deep voice sending chills down her spine.
"To us," she repeated, her hands trembling slightly. Her mother was right. There was no way they could come out of this marriage unscathed. In the past few months, he'd grown to mean so much to her. He was warm, loving and sensitive. He made her feel beautiful and alive; he made her feel like the most important person in the world. She liked the way he talked-how her name rolled melodically off his lips. She liked the way he looked at her, as if he could see into her very soul. She liked his calm rational thinking, his sense of humor, his humility, even his mystique. She loved the times they spent cooking, talking, laughing. She loved how her heart pounded every time he came near. He made her feel things she had never felt before, not even for Jared. She loved how his kisses lit her body on fire and how his presence made her feel complete. He had filled the void in her life, taking away the loneliness and emptiness and filling it with joy and excitement. Tamara couldn't fathom going back to her lonely existence. She was in love with Kwabena and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
Dinner was wonderful and romantic. They had the upper floor of the exclusive restaurant all to themselves. They dined by candlelight on succulent lamb with a Mediterranean flavor. They enjoyed light conversation filled with an underlying sexual tension that they both recognized was growing between them. Tamara gazed at Kwabena across the table, admiring how his dark eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She yearned to feel his full lips on her own. With every look, with every touch, she knew she wanted to share more than just a kiss with him. She wanted him, his heart, his body his soulespecially his heart.
After dinner they strolled hand in hand around the indoor garden. They looked at beautiful tropical flowers, blooming in the glass-encased greenhouse, while outside snow from the storm the day before piled high on the ground. It was a dreamlike escape from the reality of the harsh winter outside the walls of this faux paradise.
"This has been a very lovely evening," Tamara said as they sauntered through the large ferns and ginger lilies. The sound of soft jazz wafted through the air.
"It's not over yet." He smiled.
Returning to the dining room, the soft voice of a DJ came over the speakers. "This song is dedicated to Tamara, from her husband, Kwabena."
"Lady in Red" began to play. "May I have this dance, my special lady in red?" Kwabena asked, gently leading her to the dance floor.
They danced slowly to the beautiful song, their hearts beating in unison as their bodies moved to the slow rhythm. Tamara looked up at Kwabena, her eyes filled with emotion. She knew what she felt was real. She just hoped he felt the same way.
The sexual tension building between Tamara and Kwabena was almost palpable. They sat next to each other in the limo on the ride home in silence, their legs lightly touching. She glanced furtively at him, and he smiled. He touched her face lightly, his fingers tracing her lips. Her breath caught in her throat, her mouth went dry, her heart raced in anticipation of what she knew was going to happen tonight. He never said a word, yet his eyes spoke volumes. Tamara could see the desire in them.
He reached for her, his lips covering hers possessively in a long, deep, passionate kiss. Tamara closed her eyes, lost in his kiss, her tongue reaching out, entangling with his as bolts of electricity shot through her veins. She surrendered herself into his arms, feeling his hard body against her own, their labored breathing communicating their passionate need for each other. Neither of them noticed that the car had stopped until the door opened and Edebe cleared his throat loudly.
They thanked Edebe and ran inside, barely able to contain themselves. Kwabena wanted to take it slow, take her upstairs and be gentle. It was, after all, her first time. But he couldn't control himself, and neither could she. They were barely inside the door when they attacked each other in heated passion. He devoured her lips, his hands caressing her exposed back, reaching below her waistline to cup her round bottom. The feel of her naked creamy skin beneath his hands drove him wild.
She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, needing to feel his bare flesh beneath her hands, and discarded it somewhere on the floor of the foyer. She kissed his chest, her mouth hot and wet as she sucked at his nipples, her hands caressing the rippled muscles of his back and arms. He gasped, breathing deeply, needing her more than he needed air to breathe.
They fell onto the couch. In one swift motion, he lowered the dress straps to expose her breasts. His mouth covered her breast, his tongue licking, sucking, tasting. Tamara moaned, arching her back invitingly. His left hand reached beneath her dress, caressing her thighs, creeping up to her bottom.
She unbuttoned his pants, desperate to touch him, to feel him, to connect to him. She held him in her hands. He was large and throbbing. Her face grew hot with passion.
"Oh God, Tammy," he breathed, his deep voice hoarse and scratchy. "I want you."
Her body arched invitingly. She was hot with desire. She was on fire, a fire only Kwabena could quench. Yet fear hit her like a bolt of lightning. She froze beneath him. She felt tears come unbidden to her eyes. She could hardly breathe.
"Stop, Ben," she gasped, barely a whisper. "I can't ...I can't do this."
Kwabena froze. He looked at her, confused. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, wild with fear.
"I won't hurt you," he assured her, his voice hoarse.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, getting up from the couch, holding the remnants of her clothes together.
"Why?" he demanded.
"You won't understand," she replied and fled up the stairs.
Kwabena closed his eyes in frustration. Why? He couldn't understand why she ran whenever they got close. He loved her. He wanted her. But she always pushed him away. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair and sighed. He heard the door to her suite slam shut. He wanted to scream. He wanted to follow her upstairs and ravish her. He sucked in his breath and tried desperately to control himself.
It seemed a lifetime ago since he'd been with a woman. Ever since he and Tamara had become intimate, he couldn't think of another woman. He was obsessed. He wanted her and nob
ody else. Yet she denied him every time they got close. Dammit!
He walked down to the basement, shirtless, his pants still open at the waist. He was so hard it hurt physically. He flopped down on the couch and flipped on the television. He had to find a way.
Tamara leaned against the door, hyperventilating, trying not to cry. Why did I stop? The answer came to her in a flash of reality. She was in love with Kwabena. Pretending to have a marriage was not enough. She wanted a real marriage. She wanted all of him, not just his body. She wanted him to love her like she loved him.
Why is life so complicated? Maybe I should just tell him how I feel. What am I afraid of But she already knew the answer. She was afraid to give herself and be hurt. She was afraid that she was just another conquest, a notch in his belt, and nothing would really change about their relationship. She was afraid in a few months, he would leave and all she would have was memories of the scent of a man. She wanted more. She wanted forever.
Kwabena was sitting in front of the TV still mulling over the events of the evening when the basement plunged into sudden darkness. He groaned. He knew exactly what had happened. Tamara had turned on the sauna and it had tripped the fuse. For some inexplicable reason, the fuse tripped every time the sauna and the television were on simultaneously. He got up slowly, walking shirtless to the freezing garage in search of the fuse box. He found it, but it was locked. Shivering he returned inside and went upstairs to the foyer where Tamara kept a bunch of keys in a small cherry cabinet. The cabinet was bare. He looked in the junk drawer in the kitchen where tools and sometimes spare keys were kept. He found nothing resembling a key that would fit the fuse box.
He sighed and proceeded upstairs to the master suite. He was not sure he could face Tamara tonight, but he couldn't well sit downstairs in darkness and he was too wired to sleep. Taking a deep breath, he knocked hesitantly on the bedroom door. There was no answer, but he heard the jets of the Jacuzzi running and Kenny G's saxophone softly playing. He knew she would never hear him over the sounds. Images of her lying naked in the tub waiting to be touched flooded his mind. He quickly put those thoughts out of his head and entered the room. He came there for one thing. He was going to get it and leave.
He opened the bathroom door cautiously. She lay peaceful, her eyes closed, her naked body enveloped in a sea of sudsy bubbles. She looked like a juju queen, working her evil magic, transcending this body into the spiritual realm. Yet she looked calm and at peace. She was beautiful. He stood watching her for a few minutes before announcing his presence.
"Where are the keys to the fuse box?" he asked softly.
"On my key ring on the dresser," she answered without opening her eyes. She was expecting him. Once the sauna tripped the fuse, it was only a matter of time before he came looking for the keys.
He started retreating. She opened her eyes slowly, observing the rise and fall of his muscular chest. He still wore the black pleated trousers from earlier.
"Join me," she invited boldly, her brown eyes looked up holding him in her gaze.
He froze in his tracks. What was she, a tease? "Only so many cold showers I can take."
Her voice was soft, smooth and seductive. "I promise no more cold showers." She smiled encouragingly. He hesitated. "Please," she pleaded.
Kwabena held her gaze and dropped his pants and underpants to the floor. Tamara didn't wince. She didn't look away. She didn't blush. She admired his body. She looked at his manhood-big, hard and erect-and felt her body throb wildly. She had made up her mind. Whatever the consequences, she would submit to her desire. She would give herself to him. He was her husband, after all, temporary or not.
Kwabena stepped into the warm bath and sank beneath the suds. He looked at her sitting opposite him. He wished he understood her. "Why do you run every time I get close to you?"
Tamara closed her eyes and sighed. "You won't understand."
"Try me."
She spoke softly, her voice heavy with emotion. "Before you came along, I was in control of my emotions. I knew what I wanted. I understood myself. But somewhere between you moving in and us ending up here, I fell in love with you. Now I don't know who I am or what I want." She swallowed and continued, "It's not enough for us to pretend that our marriage is real, Kwabena. I want it to be real. I want you in my life. I love you."
"Come here, babe," he said, sliding her close to him so she sat in front of him between his outstretched legs, her back against his chest. "Our marriage is as real as we want it to be. What we feel for each other is real, and I want you in my life."
"What happens when you get your permanent green card?"
"We'll deal with it when the time comes. Right now, Tamara, the way I feel about you I've never felt that way about another. I love you."
Tears of joy came to her eyes. He loved her!
He took her pouf and tenderly washed her body, lingering around her breasts. She raised her arms round his neck while he washed her, touching her in the most intimate places. He discarded the pouf and gently stroked the soft flesh between her legs.
"Mmmmm," she moaned, feeling the pleasure of arousal course through her body. She'd never been touched there before.
He stepped out of the tub and helped her out, then dried her soft, smooth skin. He looked at her body, luscious and supple in the glow of the candlelight. She was beautiful. Big and beautiful. He hoisted her in his arms and laid her gently on the bed.
He kissed her mouth, sweet and tenderly. He kissed her throat, his tongue licking, tasting, sampling the delicious softness of her skin. His long fingers caressed her legs and bottom, setting Tamara ablaze. She closed her eyes, arching toward him invitingly. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He moved his mouth over her body. He took one breast in his mouth, licking, tasting, suckling. Tamara moaned deeply, submitting to the flood of sensations that filled her soul. Their breathing deepened, coming in short rasps. He cupped her bottom, kissing her belly, letting his tongue linger around her belly button. She felt herself grow moist and hot. His fingers caressed the inside of her thighs and crept up to her warm, wet center. He touched her there, gently caressing its soft sweetness, driving Tamara into a frenzy of ecstasy.
"Take me, Ben," Tamara whispered passionately. She needed him within her, to be one with him. She wanted him to fill her and bring her to that place of ecstasy. She needed him to extinguish the fire burning in her, to fulfill her longing. But it was not yet time. Kwabena wanted her ready. It was her first time and he didn't want to hurt her.
Slowly he kissed her belly, her legs, his long arms reaching up and caressing her naked breasts. Then his mouth found the center of her being.
She moaned, writhing in pleasure, holding his head in her hands as his tongue sampled her sweetness, driving her wild. It was the most beautiful of sensations. Panting, she felt herself climbing to heights of passion, a feeling she had never before experienced.
"Oh, Ben," she gasped as she climaxed explosively, her body convulsing violently.
Slowly she laid him on his back, exploring his hard lean body with her hands, her lips and tongue. She wanted to know every intimate detail of this nubian god sharing her bed and her body. She licked his tiny nipples until they stood hard and erect. Kwabena moaned, a deep guttural sound escaping his lips. She caressed his long legs and butt, enjoying the feel of his steely muscles beneath her fingers. She kissed his belly, lingering around his navel, then took his length in her hands. It was the first time she'd felt anything this beautiful.
Kwabena moaned loudly, his breathing ragged. He gasped, "Tammy, I need you now," as he strained to hold himself back.
He straddled her. She opened her legs invitingly, willingly, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her, to be joined as one with her husband. She heard the soft sound of plastic crackling as he removed a condom from its wrapper.
"Let me," she said, putting it on for him.
Slowly, gently he entered her. She was tight, but he had prepared her b
ody well. Tamara felt a sharp jolt of pain, but it was soon replaced with pleasure as they moved against each other. Then panting, moaning and sweating, they moved in a fast rhythm, dancing to music only they could make. The moaning and groaning and panting grew louder. Just when Kwabena thought he could hold back no longer, Tamara suddenly came, her body shuddering, convulsing against his. Only then did he allow himself to let go, a climax so great it felt like an explosion.
"Tamara!" he screamed her name as his body shuddered and he lay against her-spent, satisfied, satiated but exhausted.
Lying in her arms, Kwabena whispered, "I love you Tamara. I love you."
Tamara stretched languorously. Her body tingled deliciously. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, alerting her that morning had arrived. A new day; a new Tamara. No longer a married virgin, but a wife, loved by a sexy hunk of a husband, having enjoyed the most wonderfully satisfying expression of love. She smiled, remembering their beautiful lovemaking. Remembering how he reached for her again in the middle of the night and before the first rays of dawn. Remembering the feel of him inside her, loving her like a real woman should be loved by her husband. He was absolutely right: when they made love, she would never forget it... and yes, she was begging for more.
Tamara stretched and reached for Kwabena, her body still naked beneath the satin sheets. But he was not there. She sat up and sighed, putting on her glasses. 7:49. Then she smelled the heavenly scents from the kitchen-bacon and eggs; or was it ham and eggs intermingled with fresh coffee? She got up pulling a satin robe from the brass coat tree near the bed. She looked at the jumbo pack of condoms still on the nightstand. Kwabena had placed them there Thanksgiving night when their plan to make love had been thwarted by his need for sleep. The rate at which she and Kwabena were going, they would finish the box by the end of the day. With that thought, she walked into the bathroom to freshen up. She would join Kwabena for breakfast in a moment.