Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  In seconds, he bent down to capture my face and pulled me into a deep kiss that nearly knocked me off balance. Somehow this kiss made all memories and satiation of my previous orgasms disappear and I wanted him achingly all over again. He backed up under a showerhead and almost took me with him. I had to tread cautiously so that I didn’t wet my hair.

  Back in the bedroom, he tossed my damp body onto the bed and I scooted up to prepare myself for whatever he had coming. His dewy body sauntered over to me and grabbed my hips to pull me down closer to him in the center. I reveled in his aggressiveness, he was primal, and it made my head spin in excitement. Azmir parted my legs as far as they would separate and submerged down to the junction. His hands gripped the back of my thighs igniting every nerve ending in my body as he toured my sex with his tongue. I felt the very strong presence of his forceful masculinity. He was open, unabashed, free to express his carnal needs to me and use my body to have them met as I lay beneath his hungry mouth. I felt him insert two fingers as he made circles in several places deep down inside until I couldn’t go another second and I came forcefully in his mouth, releasing pending emotions and frustrations of not knowing how to express them.

  He didn’t let me come down before he entered me. I, once again, found myself underneath him enduring his magnificent plunges hard, potent, and relentless. Azmir was a skilled lover. His hips moved with precision, his thrusts were purposeful and even his positions were well calculated. He knew how to get me off and waited out his own orgasms. In no time at all he’d learned my body in ways that I had no previous knowledge of.

  His artful thrusts wouldn’t let up, and neither did the convulsions of my body. The room started to rotate as I felt my body being pushed into another orgasm as he pounded me into the mattress. Was I finished with the first? I didn’t know my upside from my downside as I yelped in passion. I felt him lift my backside from the mattress pushing himself deeper into me, reaching places so far into me, desperate to fuse with me and I accepted every inch of him—devouring him as I tried to come down from my never ending, ever spinning orgasm. Every cell in my body was ignited and charged with pleasure, something I’d never experienced. I was a bag of esthesis and couldn’t control it. He was supreme—unsurpassed.

  I heard as Azmir’s breathing became harsh, animalistic. My heartbeat accelerated another notch and everything started to pale and fade into white clouds, propelling me into pure oblivion.

  I heard echoes of my name. They were vague but became louder with every attempt. I woke up feeling off. Azmir was right there next to me softly speaking. “Are you okay?”

  He had one arm arching over my head and the other holding my hand against his smooth chest. His expression was soft, almost masking.

  “Wh-what happened to me?” Memories of him making love to me started to pool into the forefront of my mind. “Did I pass out?!” It was more of an accusation than a question.

  He collapsed his face in my neck and nodded against it confirming that I did. I felt like he was either embarrassed for me or he did something to me that was potentially dangerous.

  “What in the hell happened?” I was so confused and still fighting through fogginess. “Azmir!” I called out sternly. “What happened?”

  He raised his head and looked into my eyes with a hint of a smile. I was happy to see that he was calm but I was away from home passing out during sex in a damn hotel suite. I tried to keep myself from panicking. A small part of me felt there was something reliable about his unruffled demeanor.

  “You passed out for nearly sixty seconds. You got…a little overwhelmed in pleasure. Don’t worry, baby…you’re fine. I’m just happy you’re back.” He softly kissed my forehead. “Let’s go catch another shower. It’s late and we both have planes to catch in the morning; yours a little earlier than mine.”

  Azmir made his way out of the bed to discard the condom and then turned for me to take his hand. I was still stuck as to what happened to my body. And why in the hell does he seem so laissez-faire about it?

  “Have you done this to other women before?” I shrieked as I lay there motionless. I didn’t know if I really wanted the answer to that. But why do I care? I never care.

  His face crinkled softly and sexily as he angled his head and then straightened it again tentatively. “Rayna, I’ve told you that I’m not very familiar with this.” He gestured down to his still rock hard penis.

  My eyes nearly bulged out of my head when they landed on it. This man is insatiable!

  He didn’t directly answer my question and I believed that was by design so I didn’t push the issue. He had experienced it before, he may have spared me the details, but he certainly answered my question. It was after two in the morning. My body was overworked, my mind was reeling, and my heart was in trouble.

  Once back in the bed, freshly showered and nestled in Azmir’s protective arms, I pondered the events of the night. My mind sifted over how this time with him had greatly differed from our last time together. With much thought, I realized that tonight I had mitigated my insecurities; I willingly relinquished control to Azmir, leaving myself no will to guide our experience together. I’d somehow trusted him in more ways than just flying me to Phoenix. And when I had done that he delivered. My yielding enhanced the intimacy and made the experience that more incredible. That revelation followed me into slumber.

  The following morning I awakened to Azmir whispering in my ear soft tidings of eroticism making it clear that though it was time to get up to prepare for my flight, he wanted morning love. I obliged even after he asked if my love canal was in condition to receive him. I didn’t care what my body said, there was something deeper inside of me that wanted to connect with him on the same level that cast me out of consciousness just hours before.

  That morning Azmir stroked slowly and deep, rolling his hips with precision making sure to hit the right delicate spot inside of me that sent me over the moon again and I brought him along with me. After kissing and panting, we reluctantly left the bed and retreated into the shower where we surprisingly started a flow of fascinating conversation.

  It was just after five in the morning and we were naked in the shower discussing politics. That led to the topic of his work and the projects he’d been taking on. I was astounded by his entrepreneurship and ability to launch a growing merger, acquisitions, and liquidations firm, which has been his primary focus along with the rec center for the past three years. Azmir mentioned that in today’s economy corporations are failing and need bankruptcy and liquidations as options to restructure their strategies and maximize their shareholder value. He was a brilliant man.

  Azmir rode with me to the airport and in the car, we discussed support systems and how everyone needed them. It made me evaluate my own and come up with the depressing fact that I’d only had one cherished friendship, and that was Michelle. He explained that he had a handful of people on his team who he could count on for various needs.

  “I learned at a very young age to pick from the top of the tree for friends. Never pick at eye level or below. You’ll never grow that way.” Azmir sat back with his head on the headrest and one hand wrapped around mine. He looked totally opposite of the urbane figure that waltzed into the hotel suite the evening before. This morning he looked urban in his heather gray velour sweat suit resembling the stature of a professional ball player rather than a corporate CEO. I loved it, too.

  Huhn? I wasn’t familiar with the analogy and he must have read that on my face.

  “Petey’s is a valued relationship because I admire the way that he can read people. He has a keen ability to discern if someone is good hearted or shouldn’t be trusted. He’s very reserved in his interactions to give himself room to assess an individual. He’s yet to steer me wrong on our friends and associates over the years. When Petey says “run” I abandon ship immediately. My senses are pretty tight but not as acute as his. I value that in him and hold on to that ability of his as we walk through life. He’s simple and easy
to get around with.”

  I soaked it all in as he continued. “Mark and Eric are the total opposite. They’re Rhode Scholar intellects whose discernments are limited to a macro level. Eric is a fulltime professor at Stanford, the chair of the school of business. I can always run venture ideas past him for a fair evaluation of validity. His knowledge of the corporate arena is out of this world. But…”

  “But?” I asked hanging on to his every word.

  “But he’s estranged from his family and has been engaged to four different women and is on his second marriage.”

  “What? Nooooo!” Aghast couldn’t begin to describe my shock.

  “True story.” He chuckled. “I share this with you because in due time he’d tell you himself. He has a handicap on interpersonal relationships.”

  “And what about Mark?” I was so caught up in his conversation. Azmir was that captivating. It didn’t matter what he talked about, it warmed me that he talked to me.

  “Mark is no better. He holds a doctorate in business as well, even adjuncts at USC in the summer. He has several businesses under his belt including a consulting firm where he goes in and offer ways to strengthen structures and avoid firms like mine coming in and restructuring. He actually comes in beforehand and reorganizes and is great at what he does. Like me, has had the itch for social establishments, which you experienced at Mahogany. He’s an honest dude with a heart of gold—”

  “But?” I interrupted him no longer able to hold my suspense.

  “I won’t say too much on his personal life, but let’s just say he has identification issues that lure him into social circles that do not benefit his stature.”

  Wow… With widened eyes, I gazed off into the distance nodding my head as I processed his implications.

  “These are wealthy men who are stellar at what they do and always raise the bar of excellence in business. I want that and—”

  “That’s why you keep them around. You’re picking from the top of the tree,” I finished his thoughts.

  We locked eyes, both impressed by each other. Me by his wise impartation, and him by my willing reception and quick absorption of it. He smiled at me with his eyes—gorgeous arresting eyes—and although I didn’t acknowledge it I understood why.

  After pulling up, we dashed into the airport not sparing a second. He traveled with me as far as security would allow. I knew once he left me he’d hurry back to his hotel suite, pack and return right back here to depart Phoenix himself. We stood off near a wall, away from the traffic flow of travelers and gazed into each other’s eyes for quite some time. I felt a magnetic pull to him and couldn’t break away from his compelling draw even if I wanted to.

  “And so we part, again,” he said as his eyes danced between mine.

  Though my heart rate was stable my mind churned questions of passion with what my heart held.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. I had to say something. I didn’t want the rapture to end; I wanted our connection to linger. I fought through it. “Azmir, this has possibly been the most adventurous…” I chuckled at the thought and he did, too. It felt great to laugh together, at the same thing. I continued and my smile disappeared, “…and exhilarating experience of my life.” So did his smile after that. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “No. I’m the only one indebted here. You’ve put a much needed spark in my monotonous travel. I owe you for this huge inconvenience.” Azmir shifted in his stance and with his one hand brushing the back of his head while letting out a deep exhale. I got the sense that he wanted to say more but decided against it and settled on, “Thank you.”

  “I actually owe you for the cool rigs!” I beamed as I held the shopping bag that now consisted of my clothing from the day before.

  He flashed a panty-snatching smirk that sent shivers up my spine. I could feel the ache between my legs from him having been inside me over and over and over again. “You can keep those. They’re not exactly my size if you hadn’t noticed.” We laughed in unison again—I laughed, Azmir chuckled.

  “You have to go, Ms. Brimm. There will be a car waiting for you at LAX to whisk you to work.”

  “Okay,” I whispered because my throat constricted from the disappointment of parting ways with him.

  My eyes fell to the floor as I tried to regain myself. The next thing I felt were his hands on either side of my face lifting me into an impassioned kiss that caused my heated blood to rush through my veins. His tongue was needy and the combination of his firm grip, his delicious aroma, and the agility of his tongue was heady and knocked me off balance and into his strapping chest. When he released me, I was appreciative of his arms balancing me until I was able to do it myself. He smiled his coochie creaming smile that made me wonder if he knew how I’d nearly lost all gravity. I smiled back at him not caring. I walked off and didn’t turn around until the checkpoint only to find him still standing in place surveilling my every move.

  My flight seemed shorter than the previous day and although I’d slept very little the night before I was nowhere near tired. My mind kept replaying my time with Azmir, visions of his smiles, pensive expressions, erotic faces. Flashbacks of our talks, our embrace, our lovemaking. There was so much to consider and sift through. I could come to no conclusions, couldn’t make any declarations because I’d never in my life experienced anything similar to that of Azmir Jacobs.

  As soon as I was out of the terminal I powered my phone back on and watched my missed alerts load. There were calls from Michelle and Sebastian!? What in the hell does he want? Also, there were texts from Michelle, Jimmie, my stylist Adrian, and Azmir.

  I went into my texts, hit Azmir’s first and saw:

  I just want you to know that when I called to invite you to dinner yesterday sex was not an ulterior motive…just your company. In the end I got that and more. I hope you have no regrets. Again I owe you.

  My body heated and the beat of my heart accelerated as I marched through the airport to find my car service. He wouldn’t drop his gratitude. His expressions were thoughtful…but his constant mentioning of owing me didn’t sit well. I decided to reply right away.

  Mr. Jacobs, I appreciate your clarification though it was not needed. We’re consenting adults and behaved responsibly. What concerns me is your second mention of owing me. It sounds very formal…and professional - as in escort service’esque. Here’s a little secret: you don’t owe someone you bestowed several orgasms upon in the span of a couple of hours. Have a good day and enjoy your time in the Big Apple. I hope your landing was as smooth as mine. ;-)

  I hit send and found my way to transportation where I located my driver. As soon as I hit the interior of the car, I called Michelle.

  She was anxious to hear from me and of course wanted to know every blow-by-blow detail of my trip. I promised to give her the specifics later that evening after we attended Erin’s dance recital, something that had actually slipped my mind. It was on my calendar but my unscheduled jet-setting excursion knocked me off kilter.

  What was odd was that for the first time in the course of my friendship with Michelle, I didn’t want to tell all of my intimate details concerning Azmir. Some things I wanted to keep to myself feeling they were personal shared experiences, that being with him in Arizona actually had meaning, far more than our first time. But I knew I couldn’t hold out too much from my best friend. She would never have it.

  I was slowly regaining my wits on my ride to Long Beach City and when I hung up with Michelle, I decided to return the texts sent from Adrian and Jimmie. As blissful a mood I was in, the sentiment was challenged by the fact that Sebastian called. I felt revulsion in the pit of my stomach at the sight of his name. I checked the time and figured eight twenty a.m. was too early and eager to return his call. He’d have to wait until after my first cup of java to hear from me.

  It was just before nine when I arrived at the practice. Sharon was at the front desk and wore an anxious expression as I ambled over to her.

  “Good morning, Sharo
n. What’s wrong?”

  “Did you finish up those reports yesterday?” Sharon’s eyes bulged with urgency.

  “Nearly half, why?”

  “Remember that new format coming down the pike from headquarters?” The higher ups were implementing a new spreadsheet program for our reporting. As with any change, it was unwelcome and dreaded by managers who had to learn a whole new system.

  “Yes…”

  “The latest quarterly reports must be submitted using the new software that you were trained on a few months ago. I got a call from Sandy yesterday, about an hour after you left. She was calling to see how you were faring with it because the Woodland Hills practice submitted theirs early and was nearly severed at the head because they were not in the new format. Jeffery Baker had them all prepared days early hoping to leave for Hawaii with his family for his anniversary. He had to cancel and they’re fighting against the clock now to have them correctly done by tomorrow’s deadline.”

  Shit! This was just my luck. I was hoping to have the other half of my reports done on my lunch so that I could leave at a decent hour tonight to make Erin’s recital. I exhaled deeply accepting my fate.

  “Okay, I’ll just have to work around the clock to have them completed.” My tone sounded of defeat. I enjoyed my job but the paperwork that came along with my manager’s role could be extremely taxing.

  “Do you still have the application disk?”

  “Yes, I downloaded it onto my desktop when we received training on it.”

  “Do you recall how to use it?”

  “Not really, but I’ll have to relearn it on my own and soon. Let me go and get started. What time is my first patient this morning?” I was sulking and quickly questioned whether this was my punishment for having jumped up and abandoned work yesterday for a whiff of Azmir Jacobs. No matter how much I tortured myself with such a trivial thought, I had no regrets waking up in his arms that morning.