“This conversation is ridiculous,” she told him. It wasn’t as if he heard her. Scott discovered the meat department. After several minutes, she had to pull him away.
“I don’t have a freezer that big to hold so much meat,” she told him. Again he pulled out the calculator. “Put that damned thing away, please. I have no need for a $65 roast!”
“Yeah, but you can cut it to make great steaks, cube it...,” he started saying, but spotted the fruit, then disappeared. She found him a few minutes later, nibbling on some grapes.
“Scott that is stealing. You can’t just eat the grapes,” she told him.
“Why not? I am going to buy them?”
“You can’t pay for the ones your belly is digesting,” she told him. “I see why Chandler never takes you to the store.”
“He never takes me a lot of places,” he said, pouting, which caught her off guard.
“Who is Chandler to you?”
Conundrum.
He was an enigma.
Something was off...he was embarrassed by his relationship with the thin black man who had driven her to the airport.
“Chandler is my everything,” he said, his head lowered in some kind of shame.
Zelda’s hackles were up. The hairs on the back of neck stood up and she developed a thing trail of sweat on her upper lip. This turn in the conversation was making her very uncomfortable.
She nearly shrieked out her question, “What do you mean he is your everything? Are you and Chandler...like lovers or something?”
His head popped up. “No! Now, that is ridiculous! Why would you think such a thing?”
“You seem embarrassed by your relationship to him. I was freaking out,” she said, looking at him side-eyed. The woman in the pink dress, eyeballing both of them after the rise in octaves with Zelda’s voice.
“No, he is my...,” he mumbled the words.
“I didn’t hear you, Scott.”
He sighed deeply, “He is my manservant.”
“Your what?”
“You know, like my butler,” he said with his head held low.
“Are you embarrassed about that?”
“No, just some people get kind of funny about a white man having a black man as a male servant,” he said.
“The real question is why do you feel some kind of way about it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know how you would react to it, that’s all,” he said.
“How long have you employed him?”
“I got Chandler for my sixteenth birthday.”
She stopped pushing the grocery cart loaded with enough food to feed a small village. Her eyes squinted.
“Hold the hell up! How do you receive another human as a birthday present?”
Scott smiled that crooked little buck-toothed grin. “Easy, last month for my fortieth birthday, I got you.”
“What?”
“Yep, that Wednesday was my birthday, which is why I didn’t want to have dinner alone,” he said.
“I wish you had told me but you are changing the subject. I want to get back to Chandler,” she urged.
“There’s no real story there. My dad was in Italy, Chandler was a homeless kid eating out of a trashcan. My dad went to the Italian consulate and since he wasn’t an Italian citizen, Chandler technically was an illegal alien. My Dad brought him to America on a domestic work Visa. Since I didn’t have a brother, Chandler became like my best friend, playmate, and confidant. He helped me not be so socially awkward,” he confessed.
“Okay. I hear you but his whole life has been in service to you. I can see how that would make some people, especially people like me, uncomfortable.”
“No, not quite. He is very intelligent and highly skilled. He completed his education in America and when I went off to college, he went with me. My dad put him through school as well,” he said.
“You have a college educated black English butler that your dad found in Italy eating out of the trashcan?”
“Yep, and you are only touching the tip of the iceberg on my life,” he said with a wink. “I’m hungry. I can’t think straight when I’m hungry. Do you think we have enough food?”
“Yes, we have enough food. You are blowing my budget for three months with all of this Scott,” she told him.
“Meh,” he said as they got to the register. The girl rang it all up bringing the total to nearly $300. Scott paid for the food in cash. Loading the car, he sat like a happy kid coming from the dentist with a great checkup.
“Zee, let’s get the steaks in a marinade, make a few sandwiches, grout the kitchen tiles, and by three, a hot shower and some alone time?”
“I like the new name for our lovemaking. Alone time.”
He leaned over in the seat of the Honda, one hand on her thigh as they waited at the red light. “Your brother said he would be home by 6:10. I figure if we get started about three, we will have enough time to bask in the afterglow and be upright by the time he gets home.”
“I wasn’t aware we were on a time schedule, Scott.’
“We aren’t, but your brother gave me a very specific time that he would return home. He should not and will not ever hear you and I doing anything more than having a conversation and a laugh.”
“So no mind blowing sex for me today?”
“Oh no, I plan to blow a whole lot more than your mind. I even have plans to take you to a whole new level,” he told her.
“Okay...,” she said as he turned his head to look out the window.
“Hey is that the school you went to?” he asked her as they passed her old high school.
Conundrum.
Enigma.
Scott Berger.
What have I gotten myself into with this man?
Chapter 7
The first thing she found herself getting into was grout, sealant, and a bucket holding a large wet sponge. He held her hands, making small circles with the wet sponge as he cleaned away the tiles. It was erotic the way he stood so close, his breath caressing her neck, his body rubbing against hers.
The second thing she got into with Scott Berger was the shower. A hot steamy shower filled with a big hairy man with a big thick member that he loved to use on her. A bath sponge she rarely used gave her a flash of the kitchen scene as she added scented liquid soap that he used to wash her most delicate parts. Parts he kissed, others he nibbled all the while sending her physically climbing up a wall of passionate crazy.
It didn’t matter if his teeth were bucked, or that he carried around a container of artificial almost human-like eyeballs or a pocket calculator, he was hers. Her man, and right now, he was filling her up with the thickest, most perfect, beautiful dick she’d had in her entire life.
Her hands pressed into the shower walls as his hips dipped low, raising the thick, engorged member inside of her, grinding it in slow, touching that spot.
“Oooh,” she moaned. His fingers massaged the nub of flesh, doubling the pleasure she was receiving. Zelda pushed back against him, grinding her hips as well, loving the feel of him so deep inside of her.
“More,” he said.
“Yes, more,” she responded.
“No, move more,” he said encouraging her to slam her hips backward into his groin. The last move, he arched his hips, going so deep inside of her, Zelda’s knees buckled. Scott caught her before her legs gave way, lifting her in the air, wrapping her legs around him wheelbarrow style.
“Scott,” she mumbled.
His hands fumbled to turn off the taps, their wet bodies leaving the enclosed space to enter the cool air of the bathroom. Disconnecting their bodies, he turned Zelda to face him, as he lifted her hips, sitting her on the bath vanity, her legs up, hanging over his forearms. The tip of him, touching her so intimately, rubbing, his body aiming for the sweet spot. He held her gaze as he slid inside of her.
Moving slowly.
Pumping with intention.
Telling her a story.
Making her a promise.
He lifted her from the sink, standing upright, lowering her body down until she could feel the hair on his balls tickling her bottom. Deeper, deeper and deeper still he plunged until she hung around his neck twitching through her second release, his hairy wet chest rubbing against her nipples, adding layers of stimulation while she reveled in the orgasm.
He spoke no words as he lifted, lowered, lifted, lowered until his pace quickened. His breathing heavy, his mouth open, panting, needing the release. “Zee,” he said, thrusting hard, emptying himself into her, his legs nearly giving way.
“Good grief!” he said. “My vision is blurred.”
“Scott, are you okay?” she asked as he lowered her legs to the floor.
“Hell no!”
“Come, sit down on the bed,” she said, her breast hanging in his face as she examined his eyes. “Talk to me. Are you hurt?”
“No, that was so good, I want to do it again, but I don’t think I am physically capable,” he said. “Can I have a minute, Ms. Spectacular?”
“Of course, of course,” she said.
To her amazement, Scott leaned back onto the bed, pulling her with him. She lay on her side of the bed as he rolled to his right, looking, but not at her. His left hand draped lazily across her midsection as his left foot toyed with her toes. Zelda didn’t know what this was or what to say so she lay there, quiet, listening to the sound of his breathing. When he was ready, he spoke.
“Zelda, I truly enjoy making love to you, but I want there to be more to us than this. Call me old fashioned, but I need more. I know I’m not all alpha male and urinating on everything to mark my territory, however, it would be nice to know that you could possibly be the only woman I make love to for the rest of my life,” he said through half-lidded eyes.
“Scott, you come out with these statements, leaving me speechless. I don’t know how to answer that or respond right now,” she said. “Yes, it would be nice to know that you could possibly be the last man I make love to for the rest of my life as well.”
He snuggled closer.
“That is the perfect answer, Zelda,” he said, closing his eyes.
He drifted off to sleep while she lay next to him staring at the ceiling for nearly thirty minutes. Her body was still tingling from the powerful lovemaking while her mind raced, trying to understand the complicated man lying next to her. Today, he took her deeper into his life, sharing a bit about his relationship with his father. He’d mentioned his sisters twice but didn’t go into any detail.
He’d yet to say anything about his mother other than the comment last month on the phone. Then there was Chandler. His manservant.
Who the hell still has a manservant?
How can a 40-year-old man have never been to the grocery store before?
He considers me to be his birthday present.
“Lord, forgive me for my sins with this complicated man,” she said softly. He was too interesting to walk away from and too strange to gallop full steam ahead toward a happily ever after. An image of a dark basement filled with boxes of severed doll heads and glass eyeballs made her shudder. She closed her eyes, inhaling the floating scents of their lovemaking in the room. He took up so much of the king sized bed, yet she felt safe in his arms.
“What am I going to do with you, Scott Berger?” She asked softly.
“Love me is a good place to start,” he responded, nuzzling closer to her.
At five twenty, his watch began to beep. Zelda sat up in the bed, alarmed at the foreign sound. Scott wasn’t in the bed beside her but was coming from the bathroom, his hair and skin still damp from the shower. She tried to get her bearings. The sight of him naked still messed with her head.
“What time is it?”
“Almost 5:30,” he said. “It seems as if you needed that nap.”
“I guess I did,” she mumbled, realizing suddenly that she was still nude.
“I will give you some privacy,” he told her, pulling on a pair of jeans and a tee. He provided her a brief kiss on the forehead as he placed the watch on his wrist before leaving the room. Scott’s mind was on food.
Sex made him hungry.
He located bread, jam, and peanut butter, making himself a sandwich with a large glass of milk. While he waited for Zelda and Mike, he double checked the marinating steaks, the tile job on the backsplash, and then Lucy’s eye. Everything in order, he sat at the kitchen table with his tablet, logged into the company server and began checking his emails.
By six p.m., he had responded to twenty messages, made four phone calls, booked a trip to Germany next week, and called his mother, who’d left him three messages.
“I am still in Texas, Mom,” he told her.
“Are you with the nice lady who kissed you on stage?” Krista Berger asked her son.
“Yes, I am. I am here until Wednesday, then Chandler and I are flying back,” he said.
“Scottie, is she a good housekeeper? That tells you everything you need to know about the kind of woman she is. If she leaves her things lying about, not caring for them, she will treat you and your heart the same way, carelessly,” Krista said.
“And if she is an exceptional cook, housekeeper, and other things?”
“Then she is emotionally damaged,” Krista said as a matter of fact.
“I am not even certain how you arrived at that conclusion without having a conversation with the woman,” he said.
“Easy. She is gorgeous, a good housekeeper, an exceptional cook, and she is single. Something has to be wrong with her in the head. If not, some other man would have snatched her up before now. She didn’t look like she was in her twenties,” Krista said.
“Can I offer you an alternative conclusion, Mom?”
“I’m listening,” she said.
“Maybe she is still single because time shifted everything to give us a chance to meet. She isn’t single anymore,” he said.
“Yes, but is she ready to get married? More importantly, your life is here in Kentucky, meaning she would have to move here to be with you and live. This is what you need to know before you get any deeper into this relationship,” Krista said.
“No, I don’t need to know that right now. I don’t plan to find that out or ask that question any time soon. I am going to let this play out, allowing it to develop as it develops. She is the one. She knows she is the one for me and I am the one for her. We both have to allow our natures to process what we are experiencing, then we will make a game plan for where we live and when we give you more grandkids,” he said.
“Oh Scottie,” Krista said.
“I have to run, Mom. I will be home Wednesday,” he said in the line, looking up to see Zelda standing in the doorway listening. It was the way his voice trailed off which prompted Krista’s next question.
“She’s standing there, isn’t she? Oooh, she overheard what you just said,” Krista said. “Lay the phone down so I can hear her response. You know, pretend like you hung up or something!”
“I am hanging up,” he said to his mother.
“Scottie!” she called.
“Love you, Mom,” he said, disconnecting the call. His eyes went to Zelda’s face, waiting for her comments.
She said softly, moving into the kitchen, “You know I heard all of that right?”
He stood, powering down the tablet. He moved with purpose, carrying his saucer to the sink, “You know I knew you were standing there as well.”
“I am the one for you,” she repeated.
“Yes. Yes, you are, and I am your man,” he said.
“I think we need to discuss...,” she started to say, but her words were silenced by his mouth. The kiss was passionate, deep and filled with emotion. It was also interrupted by the sound of Micha
el coming through the front door.
“There is nothing to discuss. I said exactly what I meant, Zelda. We do nothing right now but allow us to enjoy what we are experiencing. We let nature take its course and when it is time to converse on details, we will. In the meantime, just let me be your man. You are my lady and this is where we are,” he said.
Michael came around the corner to see the intense standoff between them.
“Is everything okay?” he asked his sister. Zelda’s lips were tight as she nodded yes, but Michael’s body language stated he didn’t believe her. Scott didn’t want to be punched in his throat, so he spoke up.
“Michael, your sister is the woman for me. I am the man for her, but we have a good way to go. I don’t want to chat about details, what ifs, maybes or anything damned thing else at this early stage out of fear that we will talk ourselves out of something truly beautiful before our life together even gets started,” he said to Michael.
Turning, Scott took Zelda’s hands into his.
“You need time to see me in the role of husband, provider, and father. You need to see me on my best days, my worst days, and when my day is a complete and utter pile of slimy shit. I want you to see me interact with my mother, my sisters, my nieces, nephews, and friends. Only then can you make a decision on how our life together can be. Right now, it’s too soon. All I ask is that you allow us to continue to get to know each other, and you tell me when you are ready.”
“What if I told you I was ready right now, Scott?”
“Then you would be lying,” he said. “I know you are lying because I’m not ready and I have no problem waking up to you every day.”
She smiled at him.
“Refreshing,” she said.
“Spectacular,” he replied.
“Confused,” Michael said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, what’s for dinner?”
“I got some great steaks,” Scott said. “I went grocery shopping!”
Zelda shook her head, “Don’t ask.”
Michael opened the fridge to see the shelves overrun with food. He pointed at the inside of the fridge. All sorts of fruits, veggies and more eggs than they could eat in a month loaded down the shelves of the fridge.
A Tantalizing Tuesday (The Zelda Diaries Book 2) Page 5