Milan nodded. “You can understand that though, right?” Her brow arched.
“Well shit,” He ran his hand over his face, dragging his lips a bit. “Of course I can. The man knows I was her first love, her first everything.”
“Are you completely over her and your ex-girlfriend?” Milan set the cup on the table, slid off her boots then folded her white-sock-covered feet underneath herself. He was being interviewed, fuck that…interrogated, but he could take the heat.
“There’s nothing to get over. You see, Milan, this is how I see relationships.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “They are chapters in my book of life. I shared a chapter with a woman, my ex-wife. A long, beautiful chapter, but we were too young to be in such an intense relationship. We are also far too much alike. We thought that was in our favor, but it wasn’t. It caused clashing.” He picked up his cup, took a quick sip then set it back down. “With the ex girlfriend, my last relationship, she and I just didn’t mesh well. She wasn’t a bad person, just not the person for me. Like I told you…” He reached over and caressed her chin. “I know what I want.”
“All chapters end,” she mumbled.
He knew it was coming from some place else, but he was going to set the record straight.
“Nah,” he shook his head. “That’s not true. You see, there is something called a ‘never ending’ story. It is like a series that just goes on and on, or a great song that you can place on repeat. We, as people, decide when something ends. Even after death, love never dies.”
She nodded, seeming to enjoy his words.
“I want you to be that song…that never ending story, Milan.”
He moved in closer to her and wrapped his hand around her neck, bringing her to him. She smiled shyly as he gently titled her chin upward, brought her lips to his. Kissing. Slowly, their breathing intertwined. They took turns running their hands along each other’s bodies, one after the other, panting, reaching and grasping for air.
Nina Simone broke in, her voice coating the mood the way only she could.
“You’re going to heal…” He paused and looked into her eyes, so close together; their personal space became one. “You’re going to address your pain over losing your mother. The man at your job is just a symptom of unresolved issues. He is attracted to messing with you, because you’re vulnerable.” He gripped her face between his palms and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You just lost your mother, baby…your best friend. No one can replace her. You did your best. Now, you have to start living again.”
Milan’s eyes glossed over once more. She swiped at them and looked into his eyes. “I love this song…haven’t heard it in years. Nina Simone singing this song reminds me of you.”
“How so?” he asked, getting up to go turn off the oven, then returning to her side.
“It’s called, ‘Black is the Color’ and that one lyric that goes, ‘Black is the color of my true love’s hair… That’s you.”
“I’m your lover?” he asked, knowing the answer, just wanting her to say it.
“I hope so…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
They kissed, looked into each other’s eyes, then kissed a bit more…
“Let’s have a talk before this goes any further...” He cleared his throat, growing serious.
She hung her arms over his shoulders, her gaze heavy with what he perceived was unadulterated lust.
I want to fuck you, Milan…fuck you good ‘nd slow, fast and hard… and all night long. But first, let’s get this shit out of the way.
“I have a question and a statement. I’ll say the comment first. I’m kinda, what’s the word? Wired I guess, to be monogamous. This aint to say I haven’t had what they term, ‘casual sex.’” He smiled and put his hands in quotes, causing her to grin. “But I don’t want this to be like that, okay? We know too much about one another. We’ve shared too much; we have something deeper than that shit. So, my question is, are you interested in settling down? Of course, it is in the new stages, and if I’m moving too fast, tell me, and I’ll back the hell off.”
He could tell by her facial expression she was taken aback.
“Well, I mean, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of you that way…or wondered what it would be like.”
He nodded. “Okay, well, no pressure. We can try it out, you know? We can be together, just you and me, and see how it goes. Now, that aside, there is something else I need to address.”
She looked up at him, her lips a bit pouty.
“And what is that?”
“I need to make love to you tonight…” He ran his hand along her cheek, then down to her neck, folding her pliant body into his own. “Can I?” He softly kissed her temple and waited for her answer.
“Yeah....” She tossed a naughty smile his way. “That’s what I want.”
“Well, I know this is kind of a mood buster, but it is a necessary discussion before I take you back there…” He pointed towards his bedroom. “I’m healthy, STD and HIV free. I have condoms, too. Are you on birth control, anything like that?”
“Not anymore… I’ve been off the pill for a few months. I didn’t see the reason to continue to take it under the circumstances. It wasn’t like I was seeing anyone.”
He nodded in understanding.
“And I’m disease free, too,” she added, her eyes glimmering.
“Do you have any allergies to latex?” He hated these sorts of discussions, but he was an adult, and he prided himself on being responsible. It had to be done.
“It is a little irritating, but not so much that I can’t deal with it,” she whispered as she circled her fingers around his collar, pulling him a bit closer.
“Okay, so here is what I’m thinking. We’ll use the condoms tonight, and then, since we are seeing each other, not going to date other people …”
She smiled at his words, no doubt realizing he was stamping ownership to her ass right then and there and it warmed his heart.
“We can both get tested sometime this week, together.”
“I’ll get back on the pill,” she interjected, her voice raspier as she tried to hurry his ass along. Her body language screamed to him as her gaze continued to wander back in the direction he’d pointed.
“Alright, and after we get the results, and you’ve been on the pill for a little bit, we can forfeit the condoms since they can be irritating to you. Enough of this shit, let’s go.”
Standing, he quickly picked her up, causing her to scream out in astonishment as he snatched her from her seat. The restraint he needed in order to get through the conversation damn near killed him. His dick throbbed against his blue jeans, ready for action.
He marched her down the hall and swung the door open, revealing his black on black bed. The coated wood in matte ebony perfectly matched the layers of black sheets. He loved his bed. It represented dominance and splendor, and he’d hand selected it himself for it’s high, hand-carved posts. When he placed her on her feet, she let her eyes dart about the room, filled with unlit red candles all around. The sizeable room wasn’t congested with furniture, or odds and ends. Only his bed and a fireplace, like the one in the living room were the main focal points. He didn’t even like a television in his bedroom. This was a place to retreat, his sanctuary. It served a few purposes: sleep, read, rest and make love.
She pointed to two paintings, also done by him in a similar style as the ones in the living room.
“I am going to have to buy one of these from you.” She turned and faced him. He could sense her nervous energy as she tapped her finger against her lower lip.
I bet she hasn’t made love in awhile. Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part.
“I’ll give you one. Tell me which one you like most, and it’s yours, but we can talk about that later. Right now, I need you to take your clothes off, but leave your underwear on for me, baby.” He reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them slowly, methodically, as he watched
her undress from hooded, hungry eyes.
She reached for her sweater, and pulled it over her head. He followed suit, tossing his shirt to the side. Soon, his jeans followed…then, she just stood there, staring at him with her mouth hanging open.
“Oh my God, you are covered in tattoos, Julian!” she blurted as she scanned his body. “And…they are beautiful! I’m…I’m sorry for screaming like that. I just never thought—”
“That you could find something like this sexy, right?” He nodded. He knew from the very first moment he laid eyes on her that they were different, but they had enough in common to cling to one another. He understood that his naked form was not something one would see every day. From his broad chest, down to right above his knees, Julian was a walking work of art. Most of the tattoos were devoid of color — simply rich, black ink against his skin, designs by illustrious tattoo artists from around the damn world. He took great pride in his body, and it was something he’d give away to the woman he was without a doubt falling in love with…
“Everything on my body, and inside of it, has purpose, meaning. Now, climb onto the bed. Sit in the middle of it with your legs crossed. I’ll join you in a second.” She did as told, then he briefly left her to bring the crystal, a long dark Eagle feather, a bag of sage and a lighter from the kitchen. He walked around the room, lighting the majority of the red candles he had placed about, then put a little ambient lounge music on.
“You like that?” he asked as he scratched behind his neck, under wisps of his hair that he’d pulled up in his signature sloppy bun.
“Yeah, that’s nice…” she said a bit timidly.
Her soft tone only turned him on further. Despite her apparent shyness, he knew that below that surface, he was about to take control of a very naughty woman and it pleased him deep within. He didn’t care if Milan was a bad girl, as long as it was only with him…
Sitting in front of her, he mirrored her expression and set about preparing her for something he trusted she wouldn’t soon forget…
~***~
CHAPTER SEVEN
Milan tried not to stare, but it was no use. The man was stunning and the way his thick, long cock constricted against his dark gray boxer briefs made her pussy scream, ‘Lord have mercy!’
It had been a while; she felt compelled to tell him so. For days, she daydreamed about fucking him, and now, the dream was coming to fruition. Their mutual sexual attraction stood at its breaking point. She had to have him.
“I haven’t had sex in about a year,” she admitted, feeling like a fool once it rolled off her tongue, but she needed to warn the man to take it easy and not judge her rustiness too harshly. She thought of herself as a good lover, but everything takes practice and she’d been out of the loop.
“Oh…okay. It’s not an issue, baby.” His head down, he kept one hand on each knee, his legs crisscrossed, as if about to do meditation.
“Well, I just thought that would be something you’d like to know.”
“Okay…well, now I know.” He shot her a dark, lopsided smile — all knowing. The shit made her tingle. How could a man appear so caring, yet so dangerous at the same time?
“I want the same things that you do.” He caressed her knee ever so slowly with his index finger. “Right now, at this moment, I am addressing my needs and desires. Desires change; needs don’t, however. What I need in my life is a committed, monogamous relationship with someone who is a giver and receiver.”
She had never, in her twenty-seven years on the planet, heard a man say such things before a romp in the hay. Julian was blowing her fucking mind. It was like a slow torture, the way he spoke so slowly. His touch, caring yet devastating and heated with desire. She drifted her gaze down to his dick again; the damn thing pushed like a snake against the fibers of his underwear. A line of dark pubic hair started from his navel until it disappeared behind the material. If he had what she surmised, she was in for a real treat…
“I see a beautiful woman before me,” he continued. “Her skin is the color of a prairie sunset, or even more accurate, a flower pot…the old fashioned kind that is baked out in the sun.”
She grinned and looked down into her lap.
“I desire to touch her, to be deeply inside of her. I need to be with her. You see, all of the things you and I wrestle about — the astrology, numerology, reflexology, all those ‘ologies’, aside — there is one component that we agree on…and that’s love.”
“Yes, I concur completely.” She sighed as he continued to trace her flesh, slowly trailing his finger up her inner thigh.
“Love is simple, it’s not complicated. Case in point…” He cleared his throat. “The very first time I saw you walk into my shop, I looked at you and thought, ‘Wow, she’s really attractive.’ From physical attraction grows soul attraction. I found myself attracted to who you were.” He pointed at her heart.
“Because you were sharing with me, and they were things I could understand, agree with and relate to. They were personal things, words you hadn’t expressed, for whatever reason, quite that way, with anyone else. I was given those lyrics from your heart, as if they were a gift. And, they were a present, from you to me. You were wounded, we all are, but you were surviving, and that’s…that’s powerful.” He looked deeply into her eyes, pulling her into his web of mysteries, making every cell in her body jump. “Your suffering drew me to you. Your overcoming of such conditions is what makes me fall in love with you. From the top of your onyx-colored hair, to your cappuccino-colored eyes…” He traced the short bridge of her nose. “Down to your cute little nose, past your cupid’s bow, to those sweet, plump, naturally rose-colored lips, you are magnificent.”
She searched for the honesty in his eyes, for an inkling that she was possibly being misled. She knew the artist in him compelled him to say such beautiful things. He was a creator after all. His baby blues gleamed bright with sincere alertness, taunting her as she tried to talk herself out of the truth. The present was real, tangible. Her cheeks — her entire body — grew warm with the pleasure of his words, with the heat of his intense stare upon her partially covered temple.
She uncrossed her legs and brought her knee up to her chin, cradling it close like a favorite baby doll.
“Now, sit back.” His voice grew more serious, dripping with base like a damn subwoofer. That vocal energy that had lulled her into an easy trance was now gone as he sat back in his natural form, done with the lullabies. “Now, I want you to monitor your breathing. I want you to breath in and out, slowly…slowly… that’s good.”
She focused on him as he reached over to the side and picked up the pink crystal. As she sat there breathing, controlling her exhales and inhales, he took the tip of the large, pencil shaped gem and tapped it gently on her collar bone. It felt cool and smooth to the touch. He ran the thing slowly down her neck, back up and over one of her breasts, then back down until he’d reached her hips.
“I want you to fall into a memory, something pleasant. Something that makes you feel like you could almost float away. It could be the first time you went to the beach, the first time you fell in love; anything that is a pleasant memory, that brings you great joy, will do.”
She searched her mind for such an account, but was left temporarily distracted by the man’s thick, dark lashes that masked his shimmering blue eyes as his face hovered above hers. The faint scent of cinnamon surrounded her. His skin glistened with what she assumed was oil, yet he didn’t feel slick to the touch. His face appeared practically flawless…
Damn, he is so fuckin’ sexy…
“Are you focusing?” He seized her out of her ornery deliberations, brought her back to the here and now.
“No…but I am now.”
He continued to trace the crystal up and down her body, and it never seemed to warm to match her body heat. Instead, it kept her mindful of its cool presence as he continued on the path, detailing her body as if she were a sculpture. So lulled into a pleasant trance, she fell into th
e recesses of her mind and plucked a memory like the petal of a golden rose, and brought it to her nostril for a hearty sniff…
She was sitting on her father’s lap in their living room. The television was on — the ‘Cosby Show.’ She was no more than six. While Dad hummed to her, Mom was cooking dinner. The smell of the food took her on a trip, for it was her favorite: spaghetti and meatballs. Mom had a special way of making it, and she always looked forward it...
The oddest thing occurred at that moment in time. It was as if, she could really smell it. Suddenly, the scent of herbs…oregano and parsley…got so powerful around her that she could almost taste them; even the garlic bread baking inside of the old oven.
The sounds grew louder, the sensations sharper. The television…Dad’s humming…the clicking and clacking of spoons inside of pots. Her bouncing lightly on Dad’s knee…
Milan gasped when Julian touched a feather across her shoulders. He went back and forth, but it was hard for her to keep her damn eyes open.
“It’s getting good to you now,” he whispered. “Your muscles are so relaxed…keep on.”
And she did; she played the memory out until her heart was overwhelmed with the shit.
I miss them!
Her soul screamed! But…through the misery, she was happy! Dad and Mama are together again, now.
She wandered back into the wondrous memory as this man continued to administer his gentle touch all over her damn body — the crystal again, his fingers, his mouth…
The plaid chair her father was plopped on, his tawny skin covered in slight facial hair sprinkled with gray…
Yes, she could see it. The man loved her, adored her!
Dad was just a man’s man but that particular day, he picked her up from the ground, gave her a hearty kiss and a hug and took her over to the chair, as if she were his favorite person in the whole damn world. All the while, Mom sang her own song in the background while cooking...
Julian broke her out of her remembrances once again when she felt the softness of something brush against her skin. The touch of the feather jarred her as he traced it down her bra, and before she knew it, he’d plucked one breast out of the satin cup, and then the other. He didn’t massage them though; no, his fingers didn’t even graze her nipples. Instead, he leaned in close and slowly blew warm air against them, all the while tracing her with that damn feather, teasing her to the point of no return. It was the oddest of combinations, but somehow, incredibly erotic.
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