by Tiana Laveen
“You ate your burger, and mine. You’re a horrible first date,” she teased as she downed her bottle of beer and stretched out at their booth.
“You offered it, told me you couldn’t finish it. How rude it would have been of me to refuse a sandwich.” He took a gulp of his ice-cold Coca Cola. “Did you get a babysitter for Bernie Sanders?” The woman chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“Let’s not get political. No, I think he’ll be fine. You hate dogs, don’t you?”
“No.”
“No? Just Bernie.” She laughed, causing him to do the same. “I’ve seen how you look at him. I appreciate you being polite about it all the same.”
“I don’t hate dogs. They’re just not my thing is all.”
“Your house is immaculate, like someone could eat off the floors.” Yes, and Bernie tested out that theory and did just that. “Yeah, Chancellor, you’d go crazy if he was under your roof for even one day. He’s a great dog though. Oh, I put the check in your mailbox. I looked up that lamp online—well, something I thought looked a lot like it—and got a good idea about how much it was worth.”
“I have no idea how you managed that, but yeah, I got it. I told you that wasn’t necessary.”
“You break it, you bought it. That’s what the sign in the stores always say. It wasn’t hard. I just typed in a bunch of specifics about it, you know, how it looked, and a couple popped up on eBay. Oh boy.” She lounged back and stared up at the ceiling, a look of ecstasy on her face. “I’m so stuffed. I better get myself together, I have two commercials to film tomorrow and an audition for a navigation app voice.”
“Oh really? That’s great! I hope you get it. The one I have now is annoying, but it was either listen to Jane from Minnesota or Sarah from London. Sarah always sounds like she’s disappointed when I take an alternate route. That British snootiness, you know? She talks down to me, then invites me for afternoon tea.”
Bailey burst out laughing and shook her head. “You’re silly.”
“What are the commercials about?” He took another swig of his drink.
“Well, one is for mortgage loans and the other is for spaghetti.” Suddenly, she was backing up from spewed cola gushing from his open mouth.
“I’m so sorry!” The man’s eyes grew tight, and before she knew it, he was cackling in between apologies, his laughter so raucous she couldn’t help but join in. If he weren’t so damn cute, she might have found his conduct obnoxious.
“What’s so funny?” She grinned as she patted the table dry with her napkin.
“Nothing … it’s a long story. Oh boy, anyway, sorry again. Everything was going fine until I turned into a water fountain. Did any of it get on you?” Now he appeared genuinely concerned.
“No, just the table. I had no idea mortgage loans and noodles could be so funny.” The man simply looked at her and shook his head, trying desperately not to laugh again. It was obvious by his quivering chin. It took him a moment to pull himself together.
His joy is contagious … and he has such a gorgeous smile.
“I’ve had a great time tonight, Bailey. I take it you need to get home since you have to prepare, right?”
“Yeah, I usually rehearse, drink a couple of cups of hot tea to rest my voice, and then record in the afternoons. My voice sometimes sounds best then. We should probably get going.”
He waved the waitress over and paid the bill, then they headed out the door. The drive home consisted of some nice, soothing music and his exquisite car smelling practically brand new.
“I love the smell of leather. There’s just something about it.” She inhaled the scent and ran her fingertips along the armrest.
“I do, too. My dad used to have this pair of black gloves he’d always wear in the wintertime when I was a little boy. I wanted to be like him so badly that I would always sneak around and put them on. Of course, they were too big, but it didn’t stop me from trying. I knew they were his favorite. One time he caught me with them on. I thought I was in trouble. Instead, he took me to the store and let me pick out my own pair that were my perfect size. I never forgot that. I don’t think I ever will.”
“What a nice memory. Are you and your father still close?”
“Well, we were, but he passed away eight years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He smiled sadly. “He was a great man. Hard working, ambitious, and fun, too.”
“What’s one of your favorite memories of him?” She turned her body in his direction and raised her knees to her chest.
“I have many, but I’d say the night of the big storm. One time, my sister and I were in the house with him and my mom, and the power had been out for hours. I was only like, seven, and still afraid of the dark. He had candles lit, gave us Tang to drink, and sat around telling us funny stories. My mother scraped together some sandwiches by flashlight.” His eyes twinkled with mirth. “And she served them to us as we sat huddled on the floor. He told us stories about him riding a big blue dragon, then another about the time he fought a buffalo in outer space. Just silly stuff we knew wasn’t true, but it was entertaining and he’d made us laugh. Funny…” His smile slowly faded. “At that time, it felt like we had so little, and we did have so little, but I was my happiest then.”
“Kids never seem to know what they don’t have until someone else brings it to their attention. Crazy, isn’t it?”
He nodded in agreement.
“I remember being disappointed when the lights came back on. Dad went back to being a bit more serious, and we rarely heard stories like that from him thereafter. It had meant the world to me because he knew I was scared, and he was doing what he could to calm my nerves, make me feel comfortable. I appreciated that from him, that sort of caring and concern. I think he hid that trait in him many times, for whatever reason.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I remembered the rare times it happened, and it made our relationship all the better. It let me know just how much he loved us … his family, you know? He was a good father, a damn good dad.” Bailey reached over and patted his hand. “What about your dad, Bailey? I remember you telling me he gave you that awesome soup recipe and taught you how to make it.”
“My father was really silly,” she said. “The family clown. He passed away about five years ago, so not too long after yours. It was sudden, so that made it all the harder. But yeah, he was a good father, definitely. My parents divorced when I was really young and my mother had remarried, so that traditional family thing, I had it but I didn’t, if you know what I mean. I had a good stepfather, too, but no one could take my dad’s place. I was the only child until my mom remarried, then she had my brothers with my stepfather. Despite their failed marriage, family was important to us, you know?” He nodded. “I applaud my mom for helping to keep peace. Even though they were no longer together, I never recalled her saying anything off-putting about my father to me, and he didn’t do that about her either. They were respectful, I guess you could say. The strange thing is though, to this day, my mother won’t discuss why they split up.”
“Hmmm, that’s interesting. What would they say when you’d ask?”
“They’d speak vaguely, like, ‘We just don’t get along.’ But I never recalled them arguing like cats and dogs or anything. It was just odd to me, a great mystery. I still wonder about it to this day but have given up on getting any answers. I’d like to know though. I can’t fully explain why… Hell, it may not even make a bit of difference at this point.” She grimaced.
“Sounds like you just want closure. My son, for instance, knows why I and his mother are not together, but we couldn’t really explain it to him until we understood it ourselves first. It is vague to say, ‘We just don’t get along.’ But sometimes, that’s just it. That’s the truth. But then, people want to know: why couldn’t you get along? That’s your burning question. Sometimes, parents, especially ones from the generation that ours grew up in, just don’t want to discuss those sort of details, especially if they are o
ld-fashioned. The idea of talking about something so personal is unappealing, and definitely not with their children.”
“That very well could have been it.”
Just then, he pulled into her driveway. The snow had finally stopped falling, but the chill in the air gripped her bones as soon as she opened the passenger’s side door. He exited the vehicle, then walked around it with quick steps to help her out of the car.
“Careful now, Bailey.” He gently took her arm. “It’s a bit icy out here.”
“This winter just won’t let up it, will it?”
He gave her a gentle smile as he wrapped his firm arm around hers and ushered her up the walkway.
“It’s been a long winter, that’s for sure, and it’s not even close to over.” They reached the front door and she fumbled with her key, suddenly feeling giddy as she caught a whiff of his nice cologne. She detected citrusy undertones. “I forgot to tell you that you looked nice tonight.” She shot him a glance from over her shoulder when she finally got the door open. A swell of warmth from the pumping heat touched her face.
“Thank you, and you look beautiful, but of course, I told you that as soon as I’d picked you up.”
A warm wave of lust floated within her as she looked into his piercing, gray eyes. His eyebrows were so dark, practically black, and the contrast with his tanned skin made her pussy rain. She gave herself a bit of a hug, reassurance that she could break this bout of desire, get inside the house, and take a cold shower to rid herself of the unexpected affliction. Instead, they stood there staring at one another, drawing closer and closer until the man’s lips were pressed against hers.
The warmth within her turned into an all-out inferno when she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in. Fingers in his cropped hair, his embrace strong and firm, she gasped when her back slammed against the wall and the softness of his tongue urgently found its way into her mouth. His kisses were intense, perfect and needy. Her body bent and bowed into his, until they were flowing together, as one. Tearing away from one another, they both panted, chests rising and falling as they surveyed each other.
Cradling her head with one hand, he cornered her, his nose almost touching hers.
“How about you serve tea … for two?”
He looked at the bottom of the bed and noticed their bare feet overlapping. Hers were indeed much nicer. Bailey’s feet had a nice arch to them; they were painted a shiny burgundy color and there was no stubble or small tufts of hair along her big toe. He laughed internally at that thought, but he’d dated a woman once with hairy, well, everything. Bailey’s skin was soft and hers were the kind of feet that felt like silk rubbing against his skin. He looked at his own feet and took notice of the reddened baby toe, and how his second toe was noticeably longer than the big one.
Chancellor had no idea why all of this interested him so. It was such a silly and rather mundane thing to be preoccupied with, especially now. Perhaps it was to take the edge off, a distraction from not only soliciting the woman, but the fact she’d accepted his invitation. They were both now lying in her bed, both fully clothed—minus their socks and shoes—holding tea cups while the sounds of jazz music played over the radio. Bernie was sound asleep on her living room couch, and didn’t even open one eyelid when she’d arrived back home with him in tow. So much for him as a guard dog. He glanced over at her. She needed her tea, had a big day ahead, and yet, here they were.
Setting his teacup down on the nightstand beside him, he stretched and got to his feet. What should be so natural felt a little awkward now—the act of undressing. He didn’t wish her to feel rushed, and yet, he knew she wanted him there, close to her. That smile of hers said it all. Reaching for his shirt, he pulled it over his head and tossed it on the floor. His trousers soon followed until he was down to his boxer shorts.
“Winnie said she saw you naked.”
He looked at the woman, his mouth hanging open. It was rare for him to be speechless, and yet, this was one of those moments. After a long pause, he found his voice.
“What? She saw me what?”
Bailey set her cup down and burst out laughing, shaking her head. She closed her eyes briefly, then glanced up at the ceiling.
“She said she saw you naked standing in your bedroom window. Apparently, she was doing her rounds, looked up, and said you were right there in your birthday suit. Those were her exact words. Wait a minute…” She placed her finger to her lower lip. “The irony! Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Didn’t your birthday just pass?” she joked.
“I don’t know what Winnie is talking about.” He slid back into the bed and tugged at the sheets, getting resituated. And then it hit him…
Sometimes he would sleep in the buff, and he’d get up and look out his window. He hoped Bailey couldn’t read his thoughts, for he decided to keep that epiphany to himself.
“Just so you know, since we didn’t talk about it much over dinner, I haven’t been in a relationship in a while. Not that we’re in one!” She waved her hands as if she were trying to slow down a car barreling in her direction. “I’m just saying, this isn’t something I normally do, and well, it’s been some time since…”
“How long is a bit?” He drew closer to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her in for a peck. She kissed him back.
“About a year.”
“Okay. Was that by choice or circumstance?”
“Hmmm, maybe both. I told myself I wanted to be more selective about who I shared myself with after my last go around, but also, the right opportunity—at least, not right to me—never quite presented itself.” She leaned away from his embrace and removed her cream-colored blouse, then her black pants. Reaching around her, he unsnapped her bra, allowing the straps to fall down her shoulders. She tossed the thing to the floor. His mouth instantly salivated at the sight of natural breasts that were now in full view. She covered one with her palm, seeming a bit self-conscious, or perhaps he was simply reading way too much into her gesture.
He lifted his hand for a tentative caress. He loved the supple softness of her breast against his skin. With a gentle swipe, he removed her hand.
“Your beautiful. I want to see all of you.”
He found them gorgeous, the dark nipples lovely, and the scent of her body enticing. Laying her down onto her back, he took one into his mouth and the soft nipple soon hardened against his roving tongue. Her moans filled the room. He offered the same treatment to the other as he wedged himself between her thighs, her lacy panties grinding against his cotton boxers. Pressing his need against her for a while, he then released her breast and drifted down to lick her navel. Gripping the sides of her panties, he pushed them around her hips, past her knees, until they, too, were cast aside.
Getting up on his knees, he pushed her legs open. With a longing gaze, he buried his face between her legs and traced the soft, fleshy folds of her wet pussy with his tongue. A look of total helplessness overcame her as he flicked the delicate creases, every so often pausing to suck her flower until his chin was dripping with her desire.
Running his hands along the smoothness of her ass, he brought her love flush with his lips and inhaled her scent, overdosing on her. The softness of her thighs soon framed his face, his ears warm against her flesh as she flexed and cried out. At last, her cravings were cured for she came in harsh vibrations and pelvic thrusts. He slowed his oral embrace, but didn’t dare stop, enjoying her more than she could ever know. Trailing kisses along her pelvis, he kept going up, brushing his lips against her flexing form until he was nose to nose with the beauty.
Placing his lips softly against hers, he kissed her long and deep, the intensity matched only by the tempo of his pumping hips as he gyrated and dry humped her love.
“Good?” He smiled down at her, not giving her time to answer before placing a sweet peck against her mouth.
“Definitely…”
The lightness of her answer fueled him to keep going. Wrapping his arm around her neck,
he brought her in for another oral embrace. On a sigh, he rose up on his elbow and delicately traced the skin between her breasts.
“I don’t have any protection with me, but I have some at home. Should I run over and get it or do you have some condoms here?”
“Any that I may have had are probably expired.” She chuckled. He nodded and pulled away from her, prepared to put his clothes back on and head to his house.
“Oh, hold on.” He suddenly recalled his emergency condom. “I keep an old cigarette case in my car. Sometimes I keep one or two in it but I don’t remember if I have one in there now or not. I’ll check.”
“No need to get all your clothes on, then. Put on my robe and your coat over it. It’ll be faster.”
“Cool.”
He went to grab the oversized white robe from the hook on the bathroom door. The damn thing was so tight around his arms he could barely move, but he managed. After donning his coat and tiptoeing past a snoring Bernie, he opened the front door, only to be blasted with an ungodly frosty wind. No doubt he looked like someone trying to ice skate for the first time as he almost slipped and fell onto the driveway several times. Soon, he was back in the bedroom with no broken bones and two condoms in hand. Flinging the damn robe off and his coat, too, he slid back in the bed, craving the warmth of her touch.
After several minutes of kissing and light caresses, he rolled over onto his side, tore open the condom wrapper, and sheathed himself. Her chest rose and fell while she observed his every move. He took it as a compliment.
She must like what she sees…