****
At seven p.m. sharp, the buzzer for Stacey’s fifth floor, one bedroom condo rung.
I do enjoy a man who knows how to be on time, she thought. She buzzed Andre up, telling him which floor to take the elevator to although she suspected he probably knew already. A few minutes later, she went to open the door to wait for his arrival. When she opened it, there stood Andre’s well-built physique dressed in dark blue slacks, a light blue button up shirt, and shiny black shoes. Though the outfit was rather understated, she knew it was name brand and tailored to fit his body to perfection. Stacey looked up into his eyes which held a bit of mischief mixed with unmistakable desire. Stacey felt her stomach muscles tighten when Andre’s tongue snaked out to lick his bottom lip.
“Good evening, beautiful.” He smiled. “These are for you.”
Stacey had been so caught up in staring at him, she missed the bouquet of flowers he held in his hand. She looked down to see a bouquet of purple jasmine flowers and smiled.
“Hi and thank you. These are beautiful,” she said, taking the flowers from his outstretched arms.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you, but they’ll do,” he retorted.
Stacey’s cheeks flamed when she saw Andre’s gaze slowly trail down her body, taking in her curves that were encased in an electric blue, sleeveless wrap dress. Wearing her three-inch heels, the top of her head came to right below his chin.
“Um, come in. I’m just going to put these in water then we can go.” She held the door open for his entrance. She watched Andre as he looked around her condo’s open floor plan with its teal colored walls and white and cream furnishings. She moved to the kitchen sink and removed a clear vase she kept in the cabinet. Filling the vase with water and placing the flowers in it, she sighed. She really loved jasmine flowers. She found their scent really soothing.
“These are actually my favorite types of flowers,” she said over her shoulder.
“I thought so,” Andre said causing Stacey to jump.
She hadn’t realized how close he was. He stood right behind her.
“I thought your stage name might have something to do with the flower, so I took a chance,” he said, reaching over her shoulder to pluck one of the flowers from its stem.
“Turn around,” he commanded softly.
Stacey’s feet turned on their own volition. When they did, Andre lifted his hand and neatly tucked the flower in behind her ear where she had pinned back her twists into a braid.
“Beautiful,” he said just above a whisper as he let his finger trail down her jaw.
“Come here,” he said pulling her by her upper arms to him.
Before Stacey knew what was happening, his lips covered hers in a kiss that awakened all her senses. She felt Andre pull her in closer, deepening the kiss. She felt his tongue as it snaked into her mouth, tasting nearly every inch of her mouth. This kiss was demanding and held promise of what was to come. Before she knew it, the kiss ended just as quickly as it began.
“We need to go before I strip you naked and take you on this counter,” Andre said.
Blinking to regain her bearings, Stacey took a step back to put some much needed distance between them. “You’re mighty presumptuous, aren’t you?” she asked leveling a look at him.
Andre just smirked confidently. “Yup. Now, go reapply your lip gloss so we can go,” he said staring down at her with eyes darkened with passion.
The glint in his eyes let Stacey know he meant every word. Wordlessly, she sidestepped him and grabbed her purse before hurrying down the hall to her bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath. Letting it out, she sagged against the bathroom door.
So much for pulling it together, she berated herself as she looked in the mirror. Her lips still tingled from the kiss. Not wanting to ruminate too long in the bathroom, she applied her lip gloss, smoothed down her dress, and lightly touched the flower Andre had placed in her hair. She smiled, took another deep breath, and exited the bathroom.
A while later, Andre’s BMW pulled into the Imperial Fez parking lot. Stacey had heard about this restaurant. They served Moroccan food, and every night had a live show of belly dancers. She looked forward to the entertainment and the company.
“Mr. Collins, welcome! Your table is ready, sir,” the hostess greeted them as they entered.
“Do you come here often?” Stacey asked.
He nodded. “A few business associates love eating here whenever they come into town.” He put his hand at the small of her back, and they followed behind the hostess.
Stacey was relieved to hear that he’d been here with colleagues of his and not dates. As they entered the restaurant, Stacey took in the Middle Eastern style decor. The dining area was dimly lit, and the walls were adorned with a gold and red Middle Eastern pattern. The chairs sat only a few inches off the floor, and most of the seating was aligned against the wall with circular tables in front, leaving a large empty space in the center of the dining area that was covered in Persian rugs. Stacey figured the empty space was for the performers to dance and entertain the guests.
“You picked the perfect time. Our dancers begin at eight p.m., so you have a little time to sit, talk, and order before the entertainment starts,” the hostess gushed. “I’ll send your waitress right over,” she beamed before turning and leaving.
Andre helped Stacey into one of the seats along the wall, then moved to the opposite side of the table to sit.
“I’ve been wanting to come here for a while now,” Stacey said. “I’ve heard great things about this restaurant.”
A moment later, their waitress approached their table. “Hi, I’m Dominique and I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Did you want to start with anything to drink?” she asked pleasantly.
Andre turned his gaze on Stacey. “Is there anything you don’t drink?”
She smiled at his consideration of her drinking habits. “No, but I am partial to red wine.”
“Great, then let’s go with the bottle of your Dom Perignon,” he told the waitress, handing her back the menu.
“How was your studying? Did you get everything done?” he asked when the waitress left.
Stacey took a sip of water their waitress had brought to the table. “Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.” She smiled.
“Tell me about school. How much longer do you have to complete?” he asked sitting back in his chair.
Stacey smiled brightly. She’d been on a number of dates where the men barely seemed to take an interest in her. Instead opting to talk about themselves, not once asking her about her career ambitions.
“I’m actually in my last semester at Georgia State,” she explained.
“And you’ll have both your bachelor’s and master’s when you’re done?” he asked staring at her as if she were the only person in the room.
“Um hm.” She nodded. This was the part she hesitated explaining to most people. She knew that at twenty-eight, just getting one’s bachelor’s degree seemed a little late to some.
Andre cocked his head to the side as if trying to figure something out. “Please tell me you didn’t go to college right after high school,” he leveled a serious look at her.
Stacey smiled. She realized he was trying to discern just how old she was. She shook her head. “No, I uh, took a few years off between high school and college. Well, I took classes here and there, which is why I was able to complete my bachelor’s in just over three and half years,” she said happily.
“Your last semester. You’ve got to be excited about that,” he said.
“I am, but enough about me tell me about you,” she said changing the subject.
For a minute, Andre looked as if he wasn’t going to allow her to change the subject. Eventually, he leaned in closer and propped his arms on the table. “What do you want to know?” he asked, staring deeply into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze shot all the way to Stacey’s core. The way he looked at her had a way of making her feel comple
tely exposed in a room full of people.
Thankfully, the stare-off was interrupted when the waitress brought their wine and took their orders.
“So, you were asking about me,” Andre asked after swallowing a bite of his grilled quail.
“Yes, tell me about you, Mr. Collins,” Stacey teased taking a bite of her own shrimp kebab.
He shrugged. “Not much to tell. I grew up in Atlanta, went to school, and work at the company my father started,” he said dismissively as if being the CFO of a huge financial conglomerate was no big deal.
It was Stacey’s turn to cock her head to the side. “That’s it? You grew up in Atlanta, went to college at Stanford, and now work at one of the most successful financial companies in the country?”
Andre smirked cockily. “I see I’m not the only one who’s been asking questions.” He laughed. “What else did you find out about me?” he asked, as if he just knew she’d been thinking about him just as much as he’d been thinking of her.
“That you’re a consummate playboy,” she let slip out her mouth before she had a chance to stop herself. She absolutely did not want him thinking she was spying on him or she was some sort of jealous woman.
Andre just grinned that cocky grin of his. “Oh yeah? Is that a problem?” he asked.
Stacey shrugged in an attempt to appear casual. “Not really. It’s not like we’re a couple or anything. This is only our first date—
“But not our last,” he said cutting her off. “And just to be upfront, I date, but I’m always honest about what I do and when I’m with one person, I’m with them. And I don’t share,” he said that last part staring her directly in her eyes.
“Oh, okay. Well, glad you cleared that up,” she murmured taking a sip of her wine to moisten her suddenly dry throat.
For the next few minutes, Andre and Stacey made chit chat about their careers and hobbies. Andre discovered that Stacey had been doing burlesque for about five years now. She sometimes traveled to different cities to perform, but school kept her pretty busy so she didn’t have as much time to travel and perform as she would have liked. She told Andre that she’d been born in the Bronx, New York, but she’d moved down to Savannah, Georgia, when she was twelve.
For his part, Andre opened up about growing up in Atlanta, going to private school and attending board meetings with his father and brother from the time he was six years old.
“No way! You’re lying. You were not six years old dressed in a business suit at a board meeting,” Stacey laughed.
“You think I’m kidding, I’ve got the pictures to prove it. My father swore there was no way in hell he was going to raise some spoiled rich kids who didn’t know their asshole from their assets. He started us out early.” He shrugged.
“Well, it definitely paid off. It’s obvious you and your brother are very good at what you do. I bet he would be proud,” Stacey said sincerely.
A look passed over Andre’s face that Stacey couldn’t quite place, but it tugged at her heart strings nonetheless. She’d lost both her parents relatively young, but could only muster real sadness for the loss of her mother. Without a conscious thought, she reached across the table and grabbed his hand. She watched as his expression changed. Even in the dimly lit restaurant, she could see his gaze darken as it zeroed in on her hand resting in his. When his eyes turned to her, Stacey’s breath caught at the expression of emotion she saw there.
Andre gripped her hand and stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb. It was as if his mere touch served to increase her core temperature. Her heart rate picked up as his thumb continued to draw small circles around her wrist. Before she knew it, Andre released her hand, pushed his chair back and stood, coming over to her side of the table. Wide-eyed, she stared wondering what he was going to do next. When he looked like he was going to sit down, Stacey scooted over to give him some space. He sat so close to her she was practically in his lap.
“Show’s starting soon,” he said by way of explanation and giving her a wink.
Stacey had barely noticed the group of women who’d entered the dining area dressed in brightly colored, long, flowing satin skirts and tops that showed off much of their mid-sections, adorned with a series of rhinestones and jewelry. The volume of the music rose, and most of the diners grew silent, preparing to watch the show.
Stacey felt Andre’s thigh brush against hers and her breath hitched. She could feel the strength in the muscles of his leg and fought like hell to not lean into him. Her battle was lost when he leaned back and threw his arm around her shoulders possessively. Instinctively, her body molded into his as if it belonged there. She inhaled his cologne which she recognized as Clive Christian 1872. While the cologne was a mix of spice and citrus, there was a scent she knew only belonged to Andre.
“It may not be quite as good as the show you put on the other night, but it’s pretty entertaining,” Andre leaned down and whispered in her ear as the women began dancing, causing shivers to run down her spine.
Stacey simply nodded her head and tried to focus on the dancers, even as Andre’s fingers lightly caressed up her arm. In short order, Stacey found herself tucked into Andre’s side but clapping to the beat of the music and enjoying the show. The women gyrated their hips and moved their midsections as if they were boneless. As a lover of all kinds of dance, Stacey could appreciate the passion it took to spend years practicing moves and skills to make them look effortless to the crowd. The crowd was in awe and a collective gasp washed through the diners as one of the belly dancers emerged balancing a sword that was set on fire on one end, on top of her head.
“Oh wow,” she whispered to Andre, giddy with awe as they watched the woman lower herself down to the floor, moving her arms rhythmically in front of her dipping her head back until the flame almost touched the floor, then waving her body back upright. Stacey was in awe. She always became riveted when watching skilled dancers.
When Andre looked down at her through dark lashes, she smiled up at him in appreciation. She realized he probably brought her to this restaurant because she would appreciate the entertainment. He couldn’t have been more correct. Without thinking, she reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His consideration of what she would like warmed her heart. First the flowers that were her favorite, and now this wonderful date. For long moments, they stared in each other’s eyes, forgetting everyone else in the room.
Suddenly Stacey felt someone touch her hand. She looked up to see one of the dancers encouraging her to the dance floor. She looked around to see all the dancers were at tables encouraging some of the female patrons to the dance floor. Stacey hesitated.
“Go ahead. Show ‘em what you got,” Andre urged her on.
The dancer, a beautiful woman with creamy, tanned skin and long dark hair, dressed in a green satin skirt and midriff top, pulled Stacey to the floor. Stacey immediately recognized Shakira’s Ojos Así playing, and began to clap in time with the music. Before she knew it, she lifted her arms wide, stood on the balls of her feet and began bending and straightening her knees causing her hips to move in a shimmy. The dancer at her side smiled brightly and removed her waist belt, placing it around Stacey’s hip. The hip scarf with gold coins began to dance relentlessly against Stacey’s hips as she moved. She planted her left foot in front of her and began lifting and lowering her right hip in another famous belly dance move. At this point, even the other belly dancers and diners began watching her. She was a natural. She moved along to the music, mimicking the moves of the other dancers, laughing and clapping.
When Stacey looked back at the table where Andre sat, she saw he was riveted. His sole focus was on her and the movement of her body. A shiver ran down her core as they stared in one another’s eyes and she danced only for him. When he licked his lips, Stacey felt the moisture pool in her panties. Not wanting to play too easy to get, she turned and shimmied, moving her body in a snake-like motion. When she threw a look back at Andre over her shoulder, she saw the look of promise in his
eyes and shuddered.
Before long, the song ended, and she removed the hip scarf, handing it back to the dancer.
“You were very good,” the woman gushed.
“Thank you, but you are fantastic in your own right,” she complimented the woman, and headed back to her table.
As soon as she was within a foot of Andre, she felt his hand encircle her wrist and pull her down onto his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist, trapping her there. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“I didn’t know you belly-danced too,” he said, his lips grazing the skin by her ear.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she teased.
“I damn well intend to find out everything,” he said right before his lips collided with hers.
Stacey sighed at the feel of his lips on hers. This was only their second kiss, but she was sure she was becoming addicted to his lips.
Again, Andre took control of the kiss, allowing his tongue to touch and explore every crevice of her mouth. He tasted of the wine they’d had with dinner and a taste that was unidentifiable, but addictive nonetheless. Andre moved his lips from hers and placed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“We need to go.” He shifted to pull out his wallet while still keeping one arm locked around Stacey’s waist.
Stacey was still caught up in a haze from their kiss, and barely had time to register his words before Andre was thrusting his card into their waitress’ hand. He quickly pulled out a handful of bills, tossed them on the table for the tip and stood, bringing Stacey with him. He helped her put on the grey shawl she’d brought to keep her warm as the weather was cooling down now that it was almost mid-September. When the waitress brought back his card, Andre quickly signed the receipt before placing it on the table with the bills, grabbed Stacey’s hand, and practically dragged her out of the restaurant.
“Where are we going now?” she asked as she glanced at his tight grip on the steering wheel.
Black Butterfly, Book 3 of the Black Burlesque Series Page 5