“You’re sure you want me to break?”
Sylvia stared at him, speechless.
“No problem,” he replied as if her silence meant yes. His stance, his lean, his play with the stick and the way he was lining up the shot to break said loud and clear—pool player from the get go! With a sinking realization, Sylvie realized she was about to get the most dangerous hustle of her life. He pulled the stick back and shot it forward with such power, the clacking of the balls reverberated as they scattered far and wide across the table. Three stripes went in, and two solids. He chose the stripes, walking around the table and lining up the shots like a master. His eyes on the table, he spared her not one glance. There was no hiding his skill level now, making bank shots and other difficult shots and in no time flat, all the stripes were in. “8-ball in that side pocket, last hole.” She watched as the 8-ball rolled to its pocket as if the master had spoken. He then went about clearing the table of what would have been her balls to shoot. He didn’t miss a shot. Not one. Very quietly, Sylvia sighed deep. With the table clean, he stepped over to the rack, put his stick in its place there. Walked to her, took her stick, and did the same. Again Sylvia gulped.
Come here,” he commanded in no uncertain terms. That command snapped Sylvie to attention.
“You hustled me!” she charged. “You knew how to play all along!” she argued with a speeding heart.
"Never mind that, I said come here." He started towards her. “Remember, no backing down...you're not going to renege, are you?” he asked silkily with steady even steps. Sylvia whimpered, backing away against the side of the table.
“You took advantage of me! You knew you could beat me!”
His smile was that of a stalking wolf. “According to you, that wasn’t possible.”
Again she whimpered. “Surely you’re not going to hold me to that bet?” she squealed, a sudden ringing in her ears began.
"Sorry, lady, I have every intention of holding you to that bet, just as you would have held me to your terms.”
“I was just…just razzing you. I would have never held you to all of that…really. I mean, we were just kidding around…right?” She gulped convulsively. He chuckled, very amused, coming to stand right in front of her. That he was aroused, she could see, without having to look right at his crotch.
“Pay up time, darlin’, pay up time.” His hands went around her waist. “Wait!” she cried out as an adrenal rush shot through her body. He ignored her and lifted her to the table. “Oh man!” she whined, short of breath. He spread her knees. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” she cried rapidly.
He chuckled. “That’s a little premature, isn’t it? I’m good, but not that good.” He chuckled, bringing his face close to hers. Letting his cheek caress hers as he warmed her ear with his breath, then his tongue.
“Shawn Everett McPherson, what…what would your mother think, if…if…” He sucked on her earlobe. “…she knew…you…were hustling innocent…” Warm, moist nibbles traced startling sensations down the side of her neck, his teeth gently nipping as he went. “Emmm, you smell good. Good…enough…to…eat.” Her head went to the side and back, her eyes dazed and dreamy. True to his terms, she felt his hand at her lower back drawing her closer to him. “Please…don’t…” she gasped, breathless.
“A bet’s…a bet,” he breathed, wrapping his other arm around her, his large hand cupping the back of her head, his mouth sucking and kissing up her throat.
“This is not…a kiss,” she panted.
“In my book it is, I call it...prelude...to...a...kiss,” he announced slowly between each taste before he tilted her head up and went in for the kill. His mouth completely closed over hers, the force of his tongue entering there robbed her of her breath. His assault was merciless, withdrawing long enough only to allow her a gasping breath, before he went deep again. Molding and pressing her body tightly against his own. Grinding his arousal to the apex of her core. He was as hard and firm as she feared, rubbing against her yielding softness. Sylvia thought her heart would burst from the rapid beating. Her body was on the verge of something that would take her over the edge if she didn’t stop him now.
“Noooo!” She wrenched her mouth from his, snatching herself from his strong embrace. She scrambled to the center of the pool table, turning and coming to her knees, breathing heavy and gasping for air. Her body shook from the trauma of being so close to something so sweet, but she couldn’t do this. Bet or not, she could not let him use her this way.
“I can’t! I can’t! I’m begging you…please don’t make me go through with this!” She had tears in her eyes because she knew she put herself there. Everett stepped back from the table, his eyes devouring her. She took his breath away. He was throbbing all over, especially in one area of his being. He had to take calming breaths himself. “I’m sorry. I really am…I know it’s my fault,” she admitted softly, wiping away streaming tears.
“I want you, Sylvie. Can’t you see that?”
“To go to bed with! To soothe your curiosity! To offer you something new!” she cried, backing to the edge and climbing down to put the table between them. “I’m not looking to be any man's conquest or notch for his belt. That’s not what I’m about. I would appreciate it if you would respect that.”
“I respect you, Sylvie,” he stated gently. “Because I desire you, you think that’s a show of disrespect?”
“It’s not right.”
“What’s not right?”
“This! If I hadn’t stopped you, you know what it would have led to.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this, Sylvia. You’re a beautiful woman. Made to be loved inside and out by a man. Me. It’s a beautiful thing, baby. Man and woman were meant to be as one, that’s the awe of us. That’s the way God made us.”
“We’re not married, Everett—Shawn! Whatever your name is! God made it a beautiful thing when it is shared between two people who know each other, cherish each other, love and commit to each other. That is the beauty of man and woman, in realizing that…and making it so! It is not a beautiful thing when it's used for shallow, temporary, gratification. Or when it's distorted and perverted to something that takes over, making everything connected to it ugly and unclean. I want no part of that. It’s not who I am,” she ended softly, her body slowly coming down from the heights of passion he’d sent her to.
He, too, was now calm. He was leaning against the arm of her sofa. His arms crossed over his chest, staring into her eyes as she was his. He was such a beautiful man. In her mind, there was no way a man like him could be trusted, could be sincere. Of course she was assuming these things about him, but she wasn’t about to gamble her heart on it. Besides, they were just neighbors who happened to be attracted to each other. It didn’t mean that they were meant to be anything more than what they were. It was just too soon to tell. She was not about to hand herself over to him to use at will because they had chemistry.
Shawn sighed long and deep, then ran his hand over his face and through his hair, ruffling it up. “Okay.” He sighed again. “Okay. I hear you. Now…come here.” He tossed his head back, gesturing for her to come to him.
“No.” Shaking her head, hesitant and a little afraid. Not of him, but of the way he made her feel.
“I’ll be good, I promise.”
She slowly came from the far side of the pool table towards him. “And the bet?” she asked hopefully.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, no…I’m not relinquishing it that easy, but I will give you some time…to deal with the terms of it.” She wilted with a disappointed look on her face. “Come here,” he coaxed gently. Reluctantly she stepped up to him; he reached and pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her waist. She braced her hands against his biceps, ready to push back.
“Relax, I’ve never forced myself on a woman, and I’m not about to start with you.” Looking into his eyes, she inhaled to relax. This would be an adjustment for her, being held like this by him. “Feel
better now?” he asked.
She smiled. “A little. Is this really necessary, you holding me?” He nodded, answering, “Yes, I like having you close to me. Feels good.”
She whimpered, still unsure of him and this. “Why me? What’s happening here? And don’t stand here and tell me there isn’t someone else you're involved with. I’m not stupid.”
“Well, let’s just say…I have been. We’re on what you might call unsure ground,” he admitted honestly.
“Then what are you doing here, Shawn?” She grinned and so did he.
“You gonna start calling me by my real name?”
She smiled mischievously. “Does anyone else call you Shawn?”
“My immediate family.”
Sylvia smiled. “Well that’s a shame. It’s a very nice name. It makes you sound less arrogant and more wholesome.” She was getting comfortable in his arms, leaning against him. He pulled her in closer with an affectionate squeeze. “Wholesome? What—like Wonder Bread?”
Sylvia chuckled. “Noooo. It just makes you sound normal…trustworthy, umm, someone who could be trusted with my heart.” She smiled and blushed, feeling her face on fire.
“I see,” he returned. “Then by all means, please…call me Shawn,” he offered sincerely. They both stood in silence, his hand stroked up her back in a gentle caress. He wanted to kiss her again. He was about to ask her, but decided against it. Knowing her, she’d say no and back out of his arms, so he lowered his head. Sylvia braced herself, but didn’t move away. The kiss was gentle, soft and compassionate; her favorite kind. Ending it gently, he stroked her lips with his, then pulled back reluctantly. “I’m going out of town tomorrow. I have another job to do, annd…I need to visit my daughter,” he informed her.
Sylvia was surprised. “You have a daughter?”
He nodded, grinning. “Yes I do, and an ex-wife.”
“Oh. How long ago were you married?”
“I was married for six—very—long—years. We’ve been divorced for three years now. My daughter's nine.”
“Her name?”
“Angela Rae McPherson. My ex-wife’s name is Deidre.”
“They live in California?” she asked.
He nodded to confirm. “Her family has money. After the divorce, she moved back home with them. I stayed there for a while, and as soon as our home sold, I started packing up. I needed to get out of there. It was hard moving away from my daughter, but I figured wherever I was, she would have someplace new to visit.”
Sylvia smiled, pushing off from his biceps to back away from him. “Hey, where you going?” he asked, trying to hold onto her.
“Dessert. Care for some?”
He smiled in a way that she wasn’t about to ask what it meant. So playing it off as if she didn’t see it, she walked to the refrigerator and removed the lemon yogurt cream pie she made the day before.
“What’s that?” he asked over her shoulder, having followed her to the small kitchenette as she sat the pie on the counter, reaching in the drawer for the pie cutter.
“Dessert…it’s good for you. Low in calories. Low in sugar. Contains beneficial bacteria and it’s delicious. One dessert I can eat without a guilty conscious.”
“Hmmm, and what’s wrong with rich, fattening and sweet?"
“Nothing, on occasion. So, how long will you be gone?” she asked, cutting into the pie. Serving him up a large slice, placing it on the salad plate. “A couple of weeks,” he answered, looking her in the face. “Will you miss me?”
She smirked with a shake of her head. “Not at all.”
He chuckled. “Yeah right. You’re gonna miss me and you know it. I’m gonna miss you.”
She rolled her eyes up to look at him sarcastically. “You don’t expect me to really believe that, do you?”
“I sure do. Will you watch my house for me? I won’t even mind you looking through my things. As a matter of fact, if you get bored, there are some boxes that still need to be unpacked.”
“First of all, I have no intention of going through your things. Especially after you’ve given me permission. Which tells me right there, there’s nothing interesting and worth going through.” She grinned, closing the lid over the pie and putting it away in the refrigerator. “As for house-sitting and unpacking and putting away, I don’t work for less than $14 an hour,” she said with a smile, grabbing her dessert and heading for the pit sofa in front of the TV. There she sat, crossed her legs and picked up the remote, and placed it in his lap when he sat next to her with his dessert.
“Man, this is good. I like this,” he commented on the dessert, having cut off the front tip and popped it in his mouth before he sat down.
“Imagine that! And it’s not rich, fattening and overly sweet.” She grinned.
He chuckled. “Oh boy. One of these women who revel in rightness,” he grumbled, clicking the power button on the remote. “Whataya wanna watch?” he asked.
“Remotes in your hand.”
“$14 an hour, hmm?”
“Just kidding. No problem.”
“Will you take me to the airport in Madison, too?”
“We’re just full of requests, aren’t we?” She leaned to the side with a put out expression.
“Please. I’d like that. Otherwise, I’ll have to go alone and leave my vehicle there,” he explained; he made a pitiful expression, giving the puppy dog eyes and long lip.
“We can’t have that. I guess so. What would you have done if there were no me here?”
“Gone alone and left my vehicle. But there is you, and I don’t want to go alone. It would be nice to have you ride with me and see me off at the airport.” Sylvia sighed. Again wondering, how was it that this man had woven himself so thoroughly into her life already?
“What about the woman you have this 'unsure' relationship with?”
“I’m no longer unsure. When I return, I’ll end it.”
That didn't go over so well with Sylvia. In fact, it struck a nerve. “Don’t do me any favors. I mean, yes…we kissed, and true, there’s this thing between us. But maybe you should hold onto your sure thing. After all, I have no intention of sharing my bed with you any time soon. Nor, your bed. So don’t be so quick to cut off your back up,” Sylvie said resentfully. Not sure why she was all of a sudden piqued, Shawn turned surprised, his gaze confused as she charged up from the sofa. “Now what did I say?” he asked weary.
“Just like that!" She snapped her fingers, "You’ll end it! You were unsure and now because of me, which is what you wish me to believe, you’re suddenly sure that you don’t want her…whoever she is!” she ranted, marching off to the sink to deposit her plate. On the way back she continued, “And who’s to say you won’t meet another woman. String her along. Get me in bed, satisfy yourself here and place us on your, 'unsure relationship' list? Then you can play her until you’re sure you’ve got her, and then inform me this is the end!”
She returned, standing behind the sofa with her hands on her hips.
“You sure have a low opinion of me,” he expressed softly, turned sideways to look up at her as she stood accusing him. Sylvie wilted then, admitting honestly, “I don’t know you. You’re suddenly in my life. Turning it upside down. Splitting my wood. Shoveling my snow. Cooking me breakfast. And…and…seducing me. And I’m having one heck of a time stopping you. Blocking you from my mind. I don’t have time, nor room in my life or in my heart for games and heartbreak, and I’m scared. Scared that you’re in this because it’s something to do while you’re here,” she finished softly.
They stayed that way for countless moments. Him staring up at her. And Sylvia, with her arms crossed under her breasts as if shielding her heart from him. Finally he stood and walked around the sofa to where she stood, stopping beside her. Nervous and vulnerable, Sylvia stood as his hand gently took her chin and turned her face sideways and up for him to look into her eyes.
“I don’t know what has happened to you to make you so afraid of men. All I do know, is t
hat I want you. I want you in a way that I’ve never wanted a woman before. Only time will prove what I say. So, can you please give me that? Time?”
Sylvia couldn’t answer, but she did give him a slight smile, though sad and unsure. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“10:45am.”
“Well, we better end this party now if we’re going to make that flight in the morning,” she advised.
His knuckles caressed her cheek.
At The Airport…
“Here’s the number to my cell phone, my email address and my instant message identification. Will you be online at 8:30 every night for me?” Shawn informed her and asked as they walked down the long corridor to his departure gate.
“I think I can handle that,” she answered. They made it to the ticket door where they stood in line for him to board the plane. His hand was on her lower back. The smell of his cologne, Devin by Aramis filling her head, tantalizing her senses. She loved the smell of him. He stood tall and striking in his dress attire. A crisply, dry-cleaned white with black stripe shirt, an attractive, multicolored burgundy/black/gray tie, black slacks and suit jacket under a handsome, long black leather. He was breathtaking. Looking at him, once again she wondered had she lost her mind. Sylvia wore her favorite attire. A beige cardigan, long buff suede skirt, and tall leather dress boots under a long, sleek, wool coat with buttons all the way down the front. Her hair up in her tan wool tam.
BOMAW 1-3 Page 9