by Ferraro, W
Thoroughly enjoying her confirmed skills, Reed continued with their romp until the early morning. When they were both exhausted, he knew it was his time to head back to his own room.
They exchanged business cards and promised to meet again for dinner or drinks.
Three weeks later, he was back in his office knee-deep in paperwork, law tombs, and plea offers when the intercom buzzed, and Garrett announced that a delivery had just arrived for Reed.
Reed accepted the rectangular box and headed back to his office. Once in his chair behind his desk, he removed the brown paper and noticed the Neiman Marcus box. Within the tissue paper lay the Kiton silk tie. Along with the tie was a small white card that read, Olympic stamina deserves a medal or at least a tie. Unable to find gold.
No signature. Nevertheless, only one woman made an Olympic mention while in the throes of passion. The smile that briefly stretched across Reed’s face could rival a supernova. Even though neither placed a phone call nor sent a simple email follow-up as promised, he felt no guilt. He wasn’t brash enough to say it was his MO, but rather it just wasn’t anything he did.
That was what he liked. He enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman, doing all things carnal, and then he kept it light and moving along.
He didn’t have the time or the desire to do anything more intense. He got what he needed, they got what they needed, and everyone was happy. Occasionally, something would come up work-wise, in which a date would be required, and when such a time occurred, Reed would extend an invite to one of a handful of women. But all knew it was nothing more than appearances.
It worked for him.
The only person who seemed to have an issue with this sort of arrangement was his mother. She couldn’t wait for him to bring home a girl so she could have another grown adult to fawn all over. Truth. Bianca Dennison, the matriarch of the family, loved all of her children, but with the recent additions of two sisters-in-law by his two older brothers, she had just gone overboard to getting the rest of her children down the aisle.
An aisle Reed had absolutely no desire to go down.
Not today, and certainly not tomorrow.
And at that moment, he suddenly felt there was a place he needed to be. Not because of the passing thoughts of a particular aisle or his mother’s many verbal mentions but because, after all, he did have a victory today, and as far as Reed Dennison was concerned, there was only one way to truly celebrate such a thing.
Hot. Grinding. Sexual. Relief.
Reed was traveling down the snow-covered streets of Lancaster in his black Escalade. Even if the weather were different, he would have no problem finding his way to this certain address. He knew this address well.
He pulled into an open spot on the road and quickly got out of the SUV. With his trench coat’s lapel up around his ears, he ducked his head to stave off the wicked whip of the bone-chilling wind. He walked through a narrow alley to a rickety stoop with a severely chipped step and an equally beaten door. Looking to the left of the doorframe, he saw three small nameplates with cracked plastic buttons alongside them. He was just about to press the middle one when the door opened and a scantily clad female came out while trying to light a cigarette.
“Oh, here you go, sugar,” she purred as she brushed past Reed and pushed the door behind her open.
Reed paid no mind to the departing female and took the wobbly steps two at a time to the second landing. He stepped toward the peeling red painted door with the crooked 2A stickers on it and knocked.
As he waited, he could hear the piercing music wafting through the drafty door. He waited another minute, and when there was no answer, he knocked again, this time louder.
And just like that, he heard the string of foul expletives as they got louder indicating someone was coming to the door.
When the door swung open, Reed couldn’t help but smile. There she stood, looking extremely annoyed and just as equally sexy.
Colby Jackson.
Barely passing five feet, she stood in the space between the jamb and the open door with her slightly grown out yet still short honey brown locks, letting the fringe that was her bangs drape elegantly across her forehead. A yellow bandana, which had an eclectic array of colors splattered across it wound around her head pushing the rest of her locks away from her pixy round face. Her dainty yet perfect bow-shaped pink lips were set in a firm line causing her equally adorable chin to pucker.
Reed watched as the annoyance transformed to minimally less irritated in her chocolate brown eyes.
“Oh, hey,” she said as her face slowly softened before adding, “What are you doing here?”
Slowly, the smile was fading off his face, for he didn’t intend to still be in the hallway at this point.
“In the neighborhood,” he answered, never letting his eyes waver from hers.
And there it was.
The smile that could most definitely light up a city block. The way the apples of her cheeks perfectly rounded and her lips parted to show perfect white teeth.
He could already feel his body react and knew without a doubt he’d made the right decision coming here.
Colby stepped back to open the door wider, inviting him in.
“I highly doubt you were just in the neighborhood, but I also know you won’t tell me the truth, so we will just go with that,” she stated, then turned around and walked across the small apartment leaving Reed standing in the doorway.
Reed closed the door and removed his trench coat and suit coat, throwing them and not caring where they landed. All he cared about was that perfect heart-shaped ass, currently lightly jiggling in paint-splattered yoga pants not far in front of him. His mind went back to when this perfect creature crossed his path.
He waited in the local coffee shop for his order to be called unknowingly by this tiny little barista. When a new and different voice called his name, he paid no mind. However, when he approached the counter and laid eyes on Colby for the first time, his heart gave a unique thump.
And the fiery little imp didn’t even acknowledge him after her initial call.
Reed picked up his coffee and headed to his office to start his day. Every day for weeks, it was the same thing. She would call his name, place his coffee down on the counter, and never acknowledge his presence. Then one day, about a month after he had first laid eyes on her, he found himself going back there for both an afternoon pick-me-up and a stop in on his way home that night; both times wielding the same results. Mentally deciding enough was enough, he knew his small unreasonable infatuation had to come to an end.
As he walked to his SUV after his late-night java hit, he clicked the remote control lock and was just about to open the door when a voice called to him.
“Is it normal for a suit like yourself to come morning, noon, and night or was there another reason for three visits in one day?”
Reed turned around and noticed the previously rude barista. She stood on the sidewalk with her apron loosely in hand and a pointed hip jutted out where a hand rested on it.
Feeling this was more of an even playing field, Reed clicked the remote locked once more and walked back to the sidewalk. Stopping a few feet away from her, he lazily took a sip of his steaming drink and quirked an eyebrow before replying. “Is it normal for a barista to be concerned with how many times a customer comes in for a cup of coffee? I would think she would take it as a compliment to her profession.”
Unsure of what a slightly mocking response would result in, he was prepared for just about anything.
Except for her.
With the hip still jutted out, Colby moved her hand from her hip and gave him a thumbs-up. “Touché.”
Such a simple response couldn’t help but bring a smile to Reed’s face.
They had both stared at the other for a few moments before Colby broke the silence.
“So was there another reason or do you just like the taste of slightly burned coffee?” she asked with a quirk of her own perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Before Reed could answer, she added, “’Cause if there was, I do hope you wouldn’t mind telling me what it was in my apartment so I can sit and rest my feet. I’ve been on them for twelve hours, and they hurt.”
Reed was flabbergasted with her forwardness of inviting a stranger into her home. Did this girl not have any self-respect or self-preservation?
But as Reed was soon to learn, Colby was generally three steps ahead of you.
“Oh, don’t worry, I have no fear you are ready to rape me on the off chance that I would ask you into my house after you got a late-night cuppa. Besides, if you were planning to do something, you still have said cuppa, and I could just as easily spill its contents right on your junk. And let’s face it, that will hurt you a hell of a lot more than it would hurt me.”
She turned around and started walking down the darkened alley toward that now notoriously dilapidated stoop.
Reed followed her, at least for her own safety, and found that she did just as she said she would. She walked into her apartment, apparently fully intending on him following as she left the door wide open, and gracefully fell to her seen-better-days futon where she kicked off her shoes and placed her petite blue painted toes on the makeshift coffee table that truly was just an overturned milk crate.
Reed entered the seemingly cheery apartment, ensuring the door was securely closed and locked and took a seat in the fraying lawn chair, which was the only other seat to be had.
“Spank me and color me surprised. I honestly wasn’t sure if you would come up or if you would just think I was crazy and get in your overpriced ozone killing beast out there and drive into the moonlight.”
Reed had never met anyone like her and couldn’t help but smirk while responding. “Perhaps I haven’t decided yet.” He sipped his coffee, agreeing that it did indeed have a slightly burned taste.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Reed observed the obviously exhausted woman as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. He used the opportunity to scan the small, cramped area. His eyes first fell on the queen-size mattress that sat on the floor over in the corner with its periwinkle covers and sheets thrown half-haphazardly this way and that way. Some sort of art supply covered every other surface of the space. Stacks of blank canvases leaned against one wall while very colorfully completed ones leaned against another. Drop cloths and a multitude of brushes thrown here or there and cans of paint stacked some four high littered the floor everywhere. Reed’s eyes came back to the woman who now had her brown eyes trained on him.
“Inventory done?” Colby sat up bringing her feet down to the floor and wiggled her toes. “So are you going to tell me why you came in three times today when you usually only come in the morning or are we still playing coy?”
Reed wanted to feel affronted, but he just couldn’t. Something was quite refreshing about her.
“Do you pay attention to when all customers come in or am I just special?”
Colby studied him, slightly tilting her head to the side and letting out a loud breath before answering. “Well, you are kind of hard to miss. You are quite tall, and not many people take their coffee bold and black.”
Interesting.
“So I’m just going to be upfront with you here. I invited you up here because I’m horny. I know it may shock you, but I figure why beat around the bush. If you want something, you should just go right on and say it—so I’m tired, I may be a tad bit cranky, but I’m very, very horny. Do you think that is something you could help me with Mr. Bold and Black or shall I just power up b.o.b. over there in the crate next to the bed and reach my climax in ninety seconds?”
Reed didn’t know whether he’d found a gold mind or psychiatric patient.
Four orgasms, one new-needed suit, and three hours later, Reed had his answer—he’d struck gold!
Reed stood close enough behind her that he could smell her without touching her. Each time was always the same—an underlying smell of turpentine that was without a doubt deep within the pores of her hands and cinnamon. However, the closer he got to her, the more powerful the cinnamon scent overtook his senses.
His eyes roamed over her small form. So fit and agile in such a little package. He knew from experience just how powerful a punch she carried. Just the thought of her short, taut legs wrapped around him had him already at half-staff. The top of her head barely reached his breastbone, but in Reed’s opinion, she was perfect. His arms could easily wrap around her slight frame allowing his hands to reach all of her without much effort.
From where he stood, he admired her exposed neck under her short cut and the collar of her well-worn cotton peasant blouse that was almost transparent. Reed could clearly see she wore no bra underneath. He knew without her words confirming that Colby was disappointed in what she considered a lack of significance in her chest. However, Reed thought her small, perky breasts were perfect for his hands and mouth. They fit her figure and to him, anything overwhelming was a waste. Her gymnast-like ass was within his reach and called to him, but he had more finesse than to just start groping.
The whole time he was admiring her very pleasing body, Colby was paying him absolutely no mind. She was lost in the scene in front of her.
A large canvas, easily six feet by four feet, leaned against the wall with a drop cloth below it housing three open cans of paint to the left and four to the right. Obviously, Colby had left the middle open so she could stand at the canvas without fear of tripping. Brushes lay forgotten here and there. Looking at the canvas, she’d applied paint in an almost abstract geometric pattern. One flowing into the other in the rainbow spectrum; colors jumbled together in an elegant dance of equality while none dominated the surface.
Reed just stood there observing her while she scrutinized her work. Just when he thought they would remain silent for an unknown amount of time, she turned to him.
He got an unobstructed view of her beautiful face as her perfectly pert breasts brushed against him. Her eyes focused on that same spot, and she slowly raised her gaze lingering on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed there. The deep brown pools passed his chin, lasting for only a moment on his mouth before finally meeting his waiting blues. Neither spoke; they just stared at each other before Colby wrapped one paint-stained hand around the back of Reed’s neck and brought his mouth down to her upturned face.
No chasteness was present; no, this was a deep, hungry kiss. Colby clearly wanted to dominate this mouth-to-mouth meeting, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it. Her tongue stroked his, caressing him in a way that sent shivers right down his spine. Her fingers gripped his hair pulling him closer to her as her other hand wound itself around his tie.
Reed’s hands roamed freely over her. One massaged her breast while the other moved down her side and over the beautiful swell of her hip to rest on a perfect ass cheek that fit just right in his hand.
The kiss continued until Reed was straining against his pants and Colby was purring in utter bliss.
Finally, with one last press of her soft lips to his, she pulled away and began loosening the knot of his tie. Reed just watched her make such a mundane task sexy as hell. She slid the strip of fabric from his collar, stood on tiptoes, placed another soft kiss on the tip of his nose, then turned around, and dipped the Kiton into the can of blue paint.
Reed stood momentarily in shock. His eyes registered what was occurring, but his brain was slower to process. Colby was using his tie to apply the paint to the canvas in a sweeping manner.
Moments, minutes, perhaps hours went by before Reed came out of his stupor and sputtered, “That is a three hundred dollar silk tie you’re smearing with paint.”
“I’m brushing paint on a priceless piece of art with your overpaid scrap of silk.”
God, this woman was maddening, and Reed just couldn’t help but want her that much more.
Reed continued to watch her become entranced; lost in herself and the way the paint splayed upon the canvas.
He had to admit it was hot.
<
br /> As silently and stealth-like as he could, he began to strip out of his clothes. Removing his shirt, he didn’t care where it fell. Next came his Burberry Wingtip shoes and socks, and silently, his suit pants followed. Lastly, his boxer briefs dropped to the growing pile.
Colby paid him no mind.
Reed watched her lose herself as her hand and the tie became one with the paint and left its signature on the canvas.
Just like a blank canvas, Reed was primed and ready, having witnessed her so immersed in something she considers so intimate.
Noticing another large blank canvas leaned against the wall nearby, he suddenly knew just how he was going to have her.
It seemed like agonizing hours before Colby dropped the now unrecognizable tie and stepped away from her finished piece. Still oblivious to Reed’s current state, she paid no mind when he finally stepped up behind her, rested both hands on her hips, and with immense dexterity, inserted his index fingers inside the top of her pants and slowly pushed them down. Immediately, he noted she wore nothing underneath, and his already rock-hard cock got that much harder. Even without a line of sight, he knew she waxed bare. Never letting his lips leave the repeating path of her neck to her ear, he quickly removed her shirt so she stood before him, her back to his chest, in all her naked glory.
Unbelievably sexy sounds came from her mouth each and every time his lips moved along her soft skin or his hands tweaked and caressed her gloriously exposed skin. When his hand finally moved to her sweet zone, he easily slid one finger inside her effortlessly with how wet she was already.
Colby panted, “Bed . . . now . . .”
But Reed’s laugh just rumbled against her back.
Oh no, he had completely other ideas than a soft mattress.