by Janice Sims
“I know it didn’t, but it is,” his mother assured him. “She’s lashing out at you because now she believes she’s going to get the short end of the stick since you have a special woman in your life. It’ll all work out, dear. Be patient. Yes, she feels proprietary toward Belana because she admires her. She dreams of being just like her. But it’s not Belana she’s afraid of losing. It’s you. Then, too, you have to remember that over the years you haven’t gotten serious about anyone. You dated a couple of women for a while but nothing ever came of those relationships. Now you’re singling out Belana. Nona is naturally going to rebel against the notion of anyone replacing her mother in her heart.
“She might have been too young when Dawn died to have a lot of memories of her, but she is fiercely loyal to her memory.”
Nick hadn’t thought about that. “You’ve obviously given this some thought,” he said to his mother.
Yvonne smiled. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about what would happen if you ever got serious about someone. Dawn’s been gone quite a few years, God rest her soul.”
Nick closed his eyes in frustration. He had a lot to learn about being sensitive to his daughter’s needs. He got up and walked to the far end of the table where his mother was sitting and hugged her in gratitude. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said softly.
“Oh, you’d be okay,” Yvonne told him, squeezing him back. “Let’s have some sweet potato pie. The smell of it usually brings your daughter running.”
Nona had indeed come downstairs when her grandmother had taken the freshly baked potato pie out of the oven, but she had eaten her slice in utter silence, not looking her father’s way once.
All week, she had shut him out, not even taking his phone calls. Now it was Saturday evening, and Nick was weary of soul on one hand, and eager to see Belana again on the other.
As he sat in a taxi on the way to Belana’s apartment building he tried to clear his mind and concentrate on just him and Belana. Didn’t he deserve some happiness? He didn’t know how other single parents managed to have a love life.
Since Belana had slept on the plane, she wasn’t tired. She had lain on the bed only a few minutes lamenting her life, and the lack of a phone call from Nick. Then she’d gotten up and put on her dance togs and ballet shoes. She hadn’t had a good workout since she’d left for Greece and to be truthful, the food had been a little too hard to resist. She intended to dance until she was washed in sweat.
She put three CDs in rotation in the CD player and turned the volume up loud but not loud enough to disturb her neighbors. One of the bedrooms in her two-bedroom apartment had been turned into a dance studio with a polished wooden floor, one wall entirely mirrored from ceiling to floor, and a ballet barre attached to that wall.
The first CD was a selection of her favorite opera solos. Luciano Pavarotti sang Nessun dorma as she warmed up with pliés at the barre. While she went through her positions her mind was on Nick. What had she done to chase him away? No, wait a minute. Why should she blame herself? If he couldn’t handle a strong woman like her, it was totally on him! Wanting to be honest, she had leveled with him. She had thought that was a good thing. What was it that had made him think twice? Was it her father’s wealth? He was intimidated by that? She hadn’t thought Nick was the type of man who would let wealth and position intimidate him. She’d obviously been wrong. As she started doing tendus the buzzer sounded. Her building had a doorman, but after a certain time of night visitors were obliged to buzz residents for permission to enter the building.
Muttering to herself, she glanced at herself in the mirror before going over to the wall unit and pressing the button. She hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. Who could be buzzing her after nine on a Saturday night? Most of her friends in town were thoughtful enough to phone before coming over. Only Ana and Erik just dropped in.
She cheered up a bit. She had thought she was fine alone but she would actually welcome company.
“Erik, Ana, is that you?” she said into the mouthpiece.
“No, it’s Nick,” came the familiar voice.
Her hear thudded with excitement. “Oh, my God, Nick. When I didn’t have a message from you when I got back I thought you’d decided to pass.”
He laughed. “That’s not the sort of thing I’d do over the phone,” he said. “May I come up?”
“Yeah, of course,” she cried happily. She pressed the button that would allow him entrance into the building.
Belana ran to check her reflection in the mirror. She’d hastily braided her hair and it fell down her back. The white leotard, white leggings and pale pink ballet shoes were all clean. She looked at her teeth, and blew into her hand to test her breath, which wasn’t bad, but in case kissing was going to be on the agenda, she wanted to be ready so she ran to the bathroom and quickly brushed. It would take Nick a good three minutes to get upstairs.
Her doorbell rang just as she was putting her toothbrush away. She breathed in and out, minty-fresh.
When she opened the door Nick was standing there in semicasual clothing of tan slacks and a brown, designer, short-sleeved polo shirt which admirably showed off his fit, muscular body, and a pair of brown leather loafers. He was immaculately groomed and smelled wonderful. She grabbed him by an arm and pulled him inside, breathing him in all at once.
“I hope the answer’s yes, because as good as you smell it would be very cruel of you to tease me like this,” she joked.
Nick grinned and pulled her into the crook of his arm with one hand. It was the welcome he was hoping for. She pressed her body against his, fitting nicely in his embrace, and turned her mouth up to his. He didn’t have to be told what to do. He bent down and hungrily kissed her.
Belana closed her eyes and fell into the kiss. She had to tiptoe a bit because he was nearly a foot taller than she was since she wasn’t wearing heels, but it was worth the effort.
To Nick, she had never tasted sweeter. Her plump lips were firm against his, and pliant. When she opened them, surrendering, inviting him in, her tongue met his in a teasing, tempting dance that incited him to arousal in a matter of seconds.
He raised his head long enough to say, “Door,” because they were still standing in the doorway. Belana closed the door with her hip and quickly engaged the lock. Various deadbolts required attention, but they could wait.
Their eyes met. “If you had told me you didn’t like leaving important messages on a machine I could have avoided the last few minutes of wondering what I’d done to chase you away,” she said in a lightly accusing voice.
Nick produced a bouquet of pink roses from behind his back. “I’m sorry, but if you remember, I wasn’t thinking too clearly that night.”
She accepted the roses and sniffed them appreciatively. They had a delicate, fresh scent that reminded her of the garden at her father’s house in the Connecticut countryside. “Thank you.”
She led him farther into the apartment. They stepped off the Berber carpeting runner that ran the length of the hardwood floor in the foyer, and onto the polished oak floor of the living room. Nick noticed what she was wearing. “You were dancing?”
“Warm-ups,” she said. She gestured to the large, toffee-colored, cloth-upholstered sofa. “Have a seat while I run and put these in water.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Nick. He was reluctant to let her out of his sight. She’d been gone a week, during which they’d had no contact whatsoever. They had a lot to say to one another.
Belana smiled and turned to go into the kitchen. “Sure,” she said casually. “How is Nona and your mother?”
“They’re fine,” Nick said as they walked into the kitchen, a large room with Italian tile in off-white, burnished red cabinets and marble countertops. The stainless-steel appliances blended well with the decor.
In the kitchen, Belana went and removed the now-wilted roses Eli had given her from the vase on the kitchen table and dumped them in the trash receptacle underneath the sink. Nick was leaning with his bac
k against the counter next to the sink, looking at her as she put clean water into the vase and began putting his roses into it.
There had been a space of two silent minutes that hung in the air while Belana had been doing this. She looked up into Nick’s eyes. “What is it you’re not saying?”
Nick, who had been content to simply watch her beautiful face for a while, smiled and rubbed his neatly shorn beard.
Belana laughed. “Not that.”
“What?”
“You do that when you’re trying to decide something,” she said.
“I do?”
“Yes, you do. When we used to go to dinner you would do that when you were looking at the menu trying to decide what to order.”
“I’d better pay attention to my nervous habits in the future,” Nick said. “Otherwise you’ll start to read me like a book.”
Belana finished putting the roses into the vase. “Did you tell Nona about me?”
“You’re a witch!”
“I’m a woman,” Belana said with a gentle smile. She walked with the vase over to the kitchen table and set it in the middle of it. Nick followed her and when she turned around again, she turned right into his arms.
“I’d prefer to just talk about us tonight,” he said as he lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck.
Belana knew it was bad then. Avoidance was something she was all too familiar with. She’d avoided facing up to the fact that she had wanted Nick after she’d tossed him aside. Now that she had been given another chance, she was not going to repeat the same mistakes.
“There will be no us if your daughter doesn’t like me,” Belana said. She searched his eyes. “Talk to me.”
“Okay.” Nick sighed. “I told her you and I were going to start seeing each other again and she got upset and yelled at me. She said if I messed up and it spoiled your relationship with her she’d never forgive me.”
“Did you reassure her?” Belana wanted to know. She waited.
“She clammed up after that and hasn’t spoken to me since,” Nick admitted.
Belana hugged him. “Poor baby, you’re really catching hell, aren’t you?”
“I am,” he said, his voice a soft whine against her neck.
Belana held him. She liked this, being the one to offer comfort. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her and let her know she doesn’t have anything to worry about. Even if you decide to kick me to the curb, I will always be her friend.”
Nick raised his head and met her gaze. “That’s not funny.”
She laughed nonetheless. “It’s a little funny,” Belana insisted. “What’s even more funny is how you’re letting Nona’s comments get to you because you feel guilty for having to let her live with her grandmother instead of you. You’ve either got to get rid of the guilt or let her move in with you. Why isn’t she living with you again?”
“Because I work all the time and she’s better off with her grandmother,” said Nick. “I thought I explained that.”
“You did, but, Nick, a lot of parents work too many hours, and their kids still live with them. Nona knows that and she’s going to keep at you until you relent. Why don’t you just relent and let her get a taste of what it’s like to live with you. Then maybe she’ll see your point of view. On the other hand, it might just work out for you both. She isn’t a kid anymore. She doesn’t really need a babysitter.”
“I just feel better when I know she’s with my mother when I’m out of town,” Nick said in his defense.
“Then let her go to your mother’s when you have to go on overnight or longer trips,” Belana suggested. “Work with her.”
Nick looked at her as if she might have struck on a good idea. “It’s worth a try,” he agreed. “I’ll ask her.”
Belana kissed his chin. “It’s worth a try.”
Nick returned her kiss, but to both cheeks, high on the cheekbones, to her forehead, making his way down to her rosebud-tinted mouth. “God, I missed you so much.”
“I thought about you constantly,” breathed Belana. “I thought about the fact that I didn’t even have the memory of our making love to tide me over.”
“No,” said Nick, “we never made love.”
“Let’s correct that mistake right now,” Belana said in his ear as she snared his earlobe with the edge of her teeth, pulled it into her mouth and sucked on it.
Nick, who was already semihard, reached a full erection once his nerve endings got a load of her warm, wet tongue on his flesh. He picked her up. “Bedroom or couch?” he asked, his tone strangled.
“Bedroom,” Belana said, “Second door on the right.”
In the bedroom, Nick put Belana back on her feet and they kissed once more while their hands were busy undressing one another. When Belana was down to her lingerie, and he down to his boxer briefs, Nick paused. He’d just remembered that he hadn’t brought condoms with him. For one thing, he hadn’t planned on seducing Belana tonight, only to see her and give her his answer. He’d been sure she would want to wait a while longer before intimacy. Only a week ago, that had been her suggestion. However, they had known one another for nearly a year.
Belana was looking up at him with a bemused expression. “I didn’t think we’d end up in bed so I didn’t bring condoms,” he stated.
Belana smiled. “Top drawer of the nightstand,” she told him. “I’d rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them.”
“That makes sense,” Nick said, and kissed her. He smiled to himself. He was nervous. Why was that? He was an experienced lover. He hadn’t made love to anyone since he and Belana broke up, but that shouldn’t affect his performance.
Belana softly moaned with pleasure. She hadn’t even kissed anyone while she and Nick had been apart, let alone made love. She hoped he didn’t think that just because she liked to be prepared for any contingency she was promiscuous. She could count all the lovers she’d had on one hand.
She broke off the kiss and peered up at him. “There’s been no one since we broke up.”
“For me, either,” he told her, and nibbled on her bottom lip.
She was pleased by this and expressed her pleasure by pulling his boxer briefs past his hips and grasping his fully engorged penis firmly in her small hand. He was hot and long and thick. Their eyes met. She ran her hand along the veined length of him and enjoyed the soft moan of pleasure that issued from him.
Chapter 7
Nick had never been with a woman who knew how to use her body as well as Belana did. Not only was she extremely flexible but her stamina was beyond his expectations.
She turned him inside out. Taking all of him inside her and never ceasing to amaze him with her desire for more. She was astride him now, her hair wild and her skin aglow. Her nipples, like ripe berries, were hard and her full breasts bounced like breasts were supposed to as she rode him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. They had already used one condom and he’d had time to recover while she’d gone to the kitchen and come back with a bottle of chilled white wine. He wasn’t a wine drinker and only took a sip. She’d drizzled a little between her breasts and he’d licked it off her. He had then acquired a taste for it, especially when it was coupled with the intoxicating taste of her warm skin. A few minutes later, he was hard again and she’d sat on him, allowing her sex to enfold him. She squeezed, making him convulse with intense pleasure. He began to feel as if he were in his own personal harem and Belana was his concubine making sure his every desire, expressed or unexpressed, were fulfilled.
She gasped as her second orgasm rocked her. She fell forward on to his chest and he held her until she came down from the precipice, then he pulled her more fully into his embrace and they rolled over on the bed, this time with him on top.
Belana spread her legs and smiled at him. His thrusts were long, hard and deep, and so satisfying. She bucked beneath him, heightening the sensation for him. He felt like he would explode, and then he did, his seed filling the tip of the condom to capacity.<
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He was washed in sweat, while Belana simply glowed. He smiled as he lay beside her on the bed. “I take it back, ballerinas are athletes.”
Belana laughed. “You’re a big man to admit it.”
She sat up in bed. “I’m hungry.” She peered at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s only eleven. Want to go get something to eat?”
Nick did, so they got up, showered together and dressed, after which they went to a neighborhood pizzeria that stayed open past midnight and got a couple slices.
As they ate in the booth in the dimly lit dining room of the neighborhood mainstay, Nick marveled at the fact that a woman of Belana’s background could enjoy a slice of pizza as much as any other girl from New York on a Saturday night.
He must have been looking at her too intently because Belana laughed at him, and said, “I can’t get my feed on like I want to if you’re going to be staring at me like that.”
Nick laughed and looked away. “Better?” he asked.
While he was looking away, Belana took the last slice. “You can look now.”
Nick laughed when he saw what she had done. “You deserve it. You really worked up an appetite.”
Belana blushed prettily and devoured the pizza.
Later, Nick walked her home and before he kissed her good-night, he asked, “Would you like to go to church with us tomorrow morning?”
“I’d love to,” she immediately answered.
Nick smiled. “You don’t care where or with whom?”
“I’m assuming it’s with Nona and your mother. As for where, Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem.”
“Nona told you where she goes to church but nothing about her father?” Nick asked, clearly finding that irritating.
“We were talking about God and how He inspires the arts,” Belana explained. “She said she feels very close to God at Abyssinian Baptist Church. She said it had to do with its history, a sense of all those people before her who made her existence possible. She’s very deep, your daughter.” She tiptoed and kissed his cheek. Looking into his eyes, she asked, “What time?”