“Calm down, Tee. You’re a grown man. Act like one.” He scolded himself aloud.
Yet, at the same time he wondered how was a grown man expected to act when the girl he fantasized about throughout high school stood in his living room. No longer a teenager, but a full-fledged woman. Every sexy curve of her hourglass figure screamed woman. And, she was waiting for him to lift her spirits.
While Antonio toiled in the kitchen, Torri swayed to “Lover’s Rock” and ran her fingers along the intricate carvings on his mahogany drawing desk. An art pad in the center captured her eye. She was pleased to see he still sketched; she remembered how talented he was in school. Curious to see what Antonio worked on, she flipped it open. Torri gasped and glanced toward the kitchen before she picked it up. She turned the next few pages. Each one contained pencil drawings of her the night she had dinner at his restaurant, November Rain. The details were astonishing — almost frightening.
Antonio cleared his throat. “I hope you don’t mind. I hadn’t seen you in years and I was afraid I’d never see you again after that night. I wanted to remember everything about you. ”
Torri wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d seen candid images of herself in photographs but never anything so intimate as the drawings she’d held in her hand. She placed the pad back onto the desk. Antonio handed her the drink. She played with the condensation that formed along her glass. Antonio set his drink on the desk and crossed the invisible barrier she raised between the two of them since he arrived at her house earlier that day.
Before she could protest, Antonio tucked a loose curl behind Torri’s left ear. His fingers grazed her cheek. She imagined Antonio handled his pencil with the same gentle ease when he etched the frame of her face on the pages of his art pad. The sudden rush of heat through her body pushed back against the desk. Lost in the tranquility of his touch, she surrendered to the moment and rested her face in the palm of his hand. Torri closed her eyes. A wave of dizziness swept over her. A sense of lightness followed, almost as if she’d been floating. She imagined she had to be dreaming. Then Antonio pressed his lips against hers. She felt like fire and ice as she melted into him. That’s what a kiss was supposed to feel like.
Antonio lifted his lips from hers, and removed his hand from her face. Her eyes fluttered open. He looked away. It gave a moment to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry, Ree. I promised I wouldn’t take advantage of you. You just looked so... Never mind, there’s no excuse for my actions.”
“Antonio, you don’t have to apologize.” She purred over the quake of her heart. “The feeling was mutual.”
Astonished by Torri’s candor, he ran his tongue across his lips and savored the sweet remains of their kiss. Antonio longed for another, but he chose not to push it.
“I’m hungry and I’m sure you are, too. I better get dinner started.”
“I’m helping and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Okay. Okay. How are you with salads?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve been told I toss a mean salad.”
Antonio extended his arm toward the kitchen. “I’d be honored to sample one of your famous salads.”
Out on the back porch, they shared a mouthwatering combination of grilled corn on the cob, steaks marinated in Antonio’s secret sauce, and a green salad complete with grape tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions, crushed walnuts and avocado tossed in lemon vinaigrette. Antonio watched Torri lean back and enjoy the purple haze while it played turf wars with a cluster of dark grey clouds along the horizon. A light rumble followed as the threat of a storm rolled in. Torri’s smile signaled to Antonio that the sea air’s calming force combined with the phenomenal aroma of his meal worked.
“You are a wonderful cook, Mr. Martins.”
He bowed. “And, you Miss Taylor weren’t lying about that salad. It was scrumptious.”
“I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. After high school life got pretty serious.”
“Too serious for me, as you know.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt as much now. Especially with you here.”
Torri didn’t say anything, but the rosy tint on her cheeks encouraged him to continue.
“Hey, remember the first show we worked on together sophomore year? Mr. Brooks left us on our own to run home for an emergency. I’d just joined the team and I was afraid to make a mistake.”
“Of course, I remember. Jazz took control, as always. She barked off the orders and “West Side Story” was a success. The after party backstage was one for the records. I got home so late that night. I knew my parents would make me quit, but they didn’t.”
Antonio dwelled on Torri’s mouth as she reminisced with him. He quivered, soaking in every nuance of her sensual voice. Each word poured from her lips onto his ears with a melodic intensity.
“Do you know what I enjoyed the most?”
“What?”
“When it was just the two of us.” Torri fidgeted in her seat and he continued. “There were so many times I was close to telling you how I felt.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid you didn’t feel the same and you’d reject me. Besides, my mother was very ill. I couldn’t devote much time or energy to you. You deserved better.”
Torri slid closer to Antonio. “What about you? You deserved friends by your side to support you.”
“Maybe, but her death exhausted everything I had left. I didn’t handle it very well. You wouldn’t have liked me very much then.”
Not prepared to relive those lost years with Torri, he rose and removed the dishes from the table. Their conversation traveled to an undesired place. Torri came to his house for rest and relaxation not to rehash his past. He’d spent too many years fighting those demons. He needed a moment to recover.
Torri remained out back when Antonio retreated to the kitchen. She knew better than to follow him. His slumped shoulders conveyed the weight of his torment. She turned toward the faded sunset and a stunning series of lights flickered behind the stubborn storm clouds. She’d use nature’s fireworks to lift their spirits.
“Antonio, leave the dishes. Let’s hurry down to the beach.”
He stepped behind her. The hair on the back of her neck rose. The warmth of his breath tormented her senses. She was careful not to move, afraid their bodies may touch.
He groaned. “Let’s watch from here.”
“I want to catch this on film.” She remained still.
“Ree, it looks pretty nasty. Can’t you get some shots from here?”
“It’s not the same. I have to be closer.” In more ways than one. She escaped the invisible hold he had on her.
“If you insist, my Queen.” He teased. “Allow me to grab an umbrella, just in case.”
“Are you afraid of getting a little wet?”
He grinned. “Not at all. Like a boy scout, I’m prepared for anything.”
Torri snatched up her camera bag. She never left home without it. She tugged Antonio out the front door and hustled down to the beach. She tossed her shoes aside and padded across the cool sand. A whiff of the salt from the sea stimulated Torri. She stopped every few steps to snap a few frames.
Larger clouds billowed in the silvery-grey sky. Another flash of lightening flickered in the distance followed by a deafening roar. Torri jumped back against Antonio.
“Ree, the storm’s minutes away. We better go.”
“Just a few more,” she urged. She clicked several more frames.
He empathized with a fellow artist in the zone. He didn’t dare disturb her.
A light sprinkle dotted the sand. Antonio raised the umbrella. Torri moaned and stuck her camera into her bag. Within seconds sand whipped through the air. He snatched her close.
Antonio struggled to maintain control of the umb
rella. A powerful gust rendered his efforts futile and ripped the umbrella from his grasp. A torrential rain spilled from the clouds Torri captured just moments earlier. Hand in hand, they charged toward the house.
A layer of sand and rain clung to Torri’s face. She licked her dry lips, wishing she hadn’t as she crunched with disgust on the grains that coated her tongue and teeth. The wicked wind twisted Torri’s hair into a matted mess across her eyes, blinding her.
“Tony!”
He lifted her into his arms. She held her breath and buried her head into his neck.
“Now, let’s hurry and get out of these wet clothes, madame.”
Torri was all for getting out of her wet clothes. After that — well, she simply had to wait and see.
Chapter Eleven
Antonio lowered Torri and fumbled with his keys before he found the right one. Torri’s drenched form pressed past him. He slipped in the house behind her. In an instant, he peeled off his shirt and attempted to dry his hair with his sopping wet shirt. Torri watched him through the strands of hair plastered across her face. She pushed aside the tangled web of curls and her eyes lingered on the flexed muscles of Antonio’s bare chest.
Torri followed the water trickles along his neck toward wet swirls of chest hair that formed a tempting path along his chest toward his navel. His pants, drenched with rain, hung low on his waist revealing his well-defined pelvis. He looked delicious. She nibbled on her bottom lip — boxers or briefs. Antonio threw his shirt to the floor and in one quick movement dropped his pants -- boxers. She attempted to control the exhilaration and squeezed her pulsing thighs together.
Antonio stepped out of his pants and glanced up. His gaze lingered on the soaked attire that clung to Torri’s frame. Without looking she knew her shirt molded against her breasts. Her nipples ached and pushed against her bra. Torri knew they summoned Antonio; tantalized him. His excitement betrayed him and he snatched his pants from the floor to conceal his aroused desire.
“Oh boy, you’ll catch cold if you don’t take those wet clothes off now. Let me run and get you a towel.”
“Thanks.” She trusted her voice belied her own desires.
Antonio returned in a pair of running shorts and a purple and green striped towel. He wrapped the extra large towel around Torri like her mother used to do so he could change out of her bathing suit at the beach.
He turned away. “Get undressed.”
“What?” Torri prayed he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice.
“I’m sorry. Let me rephrase that. Please, get undressed so you won’t drip and ruin my wood floors.”
Embarrassed and aroused at the same time, Torri conceded. “Promise you won’t peek?”
The moment he turned, Antonio heard Torri’s wet clothes splash onto the floor. Antonio shook. Aware that she stood behind him naked, his body ached. He suspected her body was mind-blowing. Being so close to her was a torture he could no longer bear. Weakened by the fresh scent of raindrops weaved with coconut in her hair, he grappled for control. The towel trembled in Antonio’s hands and beads of sweat formed beneath his arms. He throbbed inside his shorts.
Antonio couldn’t think of anything else except pulling Torri into his arms and making sweet, tender love to her. He dreamed of making love to Torri since high school. Nevertheless, Antonio was determined to wait for her to come to him on her own terms; it was the only way he’d know she trusted him. Seduced by the moment’s temptation, Antonio imagined that he heard Torri whispering to him.
“I’ve missed you.” Torri’s honeyed voice tickled his ears.
It wasn’t his imagination. Antonio spun and faced his heart’s desire. The towel dangled in his grasp. Torri stood before Antonio in nothing, except what the good Lord gave her. Transfixed, Antonio feared if he moved she’d vanish. His eyes rested upon her breasts, her nipples hard -- ready. Antonio traced each curve of her body, committed every inch to memory. She was far more ravishing than he’d ever imagined. Hunger vanquished his restraint. Her brown eyes sparkled with an invitation he waited fifteen years to receive.
Warmth flooded Torri under Antonio’s steady gaze. His gaze traveled. Every inch of her tingled as his eyes explored her body. Her lips. Her neck. Her shoulders. Her breasts. Everything she felt had been smoldering inside of her since high school. She craved him and finally succumbed to her body’s fiery demands. She cleared her throat to regain his attention. Antonio eased toward her. It seemed like an eternity before their bodies touched. With Antonio, Torri knew who she was.
She brushed her lips against his. Her lips parted against their velvety warmth. Spirals of ecstasy shot through Torri when Antonio claimed her lips in return. Her tongue explored the depths of his sweet mouth, savoring the traces of mint and lemon. Antonio wrapped his arms around her and caressed the small of her back. Torri’s head dropped back as ecstasy poured over her. Antonio liberated a flurry of moist kisses along her exposed neck, setting it afire. He continued toward her shoulders bestowing gentle nibbles along the way. A fervent moan slipped from Torri.
Antonio lifted his head. “Ree, are you sure?”
Rapt in the moment, Torri barely heard his question. The way his eyes searched hers, Torri understood Antonio needed her permission. Unable to form words, she nodded in response. Antonio lifted Torri and transported them to the bedroom. He eased her onto the bed. Torri planted a flurry of kisses along his smooth chest, as she ran her hands across his six-pack. Antonio stepped back and removed his shorts.
Torri’s eyes widened as she stared in satisfaction at Antonio’s gloriousness. She pulled him down toward the bed. The fire burned too fierce to wait any longer. Unbridled passion raced through her veins, along a fifteen-year course of unrequited love. She shuddered as Antonio blazed a trail of butterfly kisses toward her heaving breasts. He sucked her right nipple, tormented it with his tongue. She arched her back and tugged at the silky sheets beneath her. His fingers massaged the moist walls of her anticipation.
She met his lips, kissed him and whispered into his mouth. “Now.”
Antonio delivered an electric kiss at the base of her neck. A flash of lightening lit the room long enough for her to see him mouth, “Not yet.”
Torri writhed under a flurry of kisses that sizzled toward her navel and along her thighs. Torri throbbed with expectation. Antonio’s hot breath toyed with her craving. She shifted her hips to meet his mouth. His velvet tongue flicked and teased her with a divine mastery. She locked her legs around his neck. Antonio grabbed her thighs and thrusted his tongue deeper.
Torri cried out and begged for his release. But, her pleas only spurred Antonio’s performance. She shuddered. His husky moans tingled and waves of sweet agony flowed through her. Torri gasped when he rose to kiss her. His hardness pressed against her thigh. Antonio pushed into Torri with a passion that radiated to her core. A fervent tide of sensual bliss washed away her doubts and fears.
Antonio pumped with every emotion he’d held on to since the moment he met her. He attempted to take his time but his intensity increased each time Torri screamed. Antonio looked into her eyes and hurtled closer to the point of no return. Torri tangled her fingers in his hair and locked her powerful legs locked around his hips. Antonio growled as he increased his feverish pace.
Their bodies moved in exquisite harmony as if it played the same tune many times before. Their simultaneous release and mind-blowing explosion left Torri trembling. Antonio collapsed beside Torri and rested his head upon her breast. His flesh tingled and she ran her fingers through his damp hair. Without a word, they held each other until the storm calmed to a quiet drizzle and they surrendered to exhaustion.
A cell phone rang. Still nude from previous night’s activities, Torri jumped from the bed. and pulled her phone from her bag. Antonio squinted to dull the brightness of the sunshine that spilled into his bedroom. He propped his head on his hand and explored Torri’s figu
re with extreme contentment. He closed his eyes and slowly reopened them. Torri was still there. Antonio never imagined he’d ever see Torri again, much less make love to her. Hiss lips curved into a smile while he replayed highlights of their night still fresh in his mind.
The memory of her smooth skin burned against his, branded him forever. He inhaled. Her soft, feminine scent hugged the sheets. Antonio grew hard as he recalled how sweet she tasted. He hoped for the a few more chances to atone for the time they lost.
Antonio knew something heavy weighed on Torri’s mind. Making love placed her worries aside for a short while. He’d been there. Except for him it wasn’t love, it was raw sex. He didn’t know the difference until Torri was in his arms last night. He wouldn’t push her. Antonio couldn’t risk losing her. She’d share when she was ready, and he’d be there with open arms. Right now, he just wanted her to hurry and hang up the phone so he could ravage her again.
Jasmine’s name flashed on Torri’s phone. She sighed and glanced up at Antonio. He watched her, but she didn’t mind. She stared, too — all night. With each flash of lightening, she caught a glimpse of every muscle in his body. When she ended her call, she intended to curl up next to him and continue where they left off. The fantasy faded once Cliff’s voice filtered through the phone. Embarrassed she sat back on the bed, pulled up the sheet, as if she hid her nakedness from her big brother.
“Torri, where are you?” She detected Cliff’s deep breaths.
A familiar voice whispered from the background. “Where is she?”
Cliff continued. “Mom keeps calling me.”
“What did she say?” Her brother was interrupted again.
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