“You mean, what if some man wasn’t standing about so he could rescue me? I seem to do pretty well on my own and—”
“You don’t have to do it on your own,” Darien said softly.
That stopped Safire for a moment but only a moment. She stepped away from him and shook her head.
“No. I won’t go about trying to look frumpy because there are predators in this world. I won’t let who I am get taken from me because there are those who can’t keep their hands to themselves.” She shook her head. “And just so you know, dress and attractiveness have little significance in rape. Studies reveal that all kinds of women are targeted, regardless of behavior or dress or age. Go online and see for yourself. Get better informed.”
“Okay, so I stand corrected, but it can’t hurt to tone it down just a little.”
“You just missed my point, Darien. I think the problem is that you are conservative, and you want me to be like you.”
“I may be conservative in some ways, but you are...unrestrained in other ways.”
“So maybe this can’t work,” Safire said and shrugged, looking down at the coffee table.
“Why can’t we meet in the middle?”
“I’m not a middle-of-the-road-type girl, Darien. I’m not going to change the way I dress.”
“Okay.” Darien sighed, a bit exasperated but realizing that Safire would always be Safire. “Then how about some other things? Carry Mace or pepper spray. Take a self-defense class maybe. What else?”
“I can carry Mace. A self-defense class will have to wait a bit. I like those suggestions. But I’m still concerned about your first one. It’s based on a misconception, and it points to great differences between us.”
“Let’s table that for now. I love how beautiful you look. I’m just...worried.”
“I was scared, too,” Safire said.
Darien went to her and held her. All his being wanted to protect this woman. He would never let anyone harm her. That was why it scared him that she was so beautiful and that she let it show. But she was right. No amount of dressing down would hide her beauty. And maybe she was right not to let the threat of perverts rob her of her style. Still, it made his job harder.
Darien felt Safire’s lips on his neck, and his whole body responded to that luscious touch. He tipped his forehead down to her and looked in her eyes. She tilted her head up to his and kissed his lips. Soon the balmy gust that had risen between them was a squall. Their kiss intensified, and Darien could feel Safire’s urgency rising. Soon there would be a full-blown hurricane.
Darien broke their kiss. He’d never been inside her new place before.
“What about your roommate?” he asked.
“She’s cool. She’s probably asleep already. Come.”
Safire took Darien’s hand and led them to her room, where they made love, his worry transforming into tenderness, her fear melting into desire. It was slower and more affectionate than any of the other times they’d been together, but no less passionate, no less electric.
Afterward, they lay together, caressing one another—at least until Safire’s stomach grumbled, and she got up to make them sandwiches.
They ate in her room. It was late, too late for the question he’d wanted to ask, the revelations he’d hoped they would share. Darien contented himself with the feel of Safire’s head on his chest, the feel of his hand in her hair.
“I love making love with you. You’re an amazing lover,” Safire said, and Darien could tell that she was smiling as she tapped his chest with her fingernails.
It was a compliment, but it worried him. That wasn’t all he wanted her to love.
“I try,” he mustered. “You don’t have to try.”
She smiled again at that. He was falling in love with his smiling Cheshire cat. She was bullheaded and beautiful and rambunctious, and she was affectionate when she let herself be, when her guard was down. He hadn’t found out what had put her guard up, but he knew that at least part of the reason was the loss of her parents. He wanted to know more. And maybe that was the greatest lure on his heart—her layers. She was a piece of crimson agate with a sharp, crystalline exterior and an array of ruby strata and a beating red heart.
Darien fell asleep with his arms around Safire and woke up to an empty bed. He heard the shower running in her bathroom, threw on his clothes and headed toward the kitchen to see if there was anything he could use to make them breakfast.
In the dining room he ran into Safire’s roommate. She had on a modest pair of floral pajamas and a thick yellow robe. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and she had on glasses that made her look a little like a schoolmarm. She matched the touches about the apartment that he could tell were hers—the doilies on the end tables, and the teddy bears in the corner of the living room, the plastic flowers in the dining room—all the girlie and matronly stuff that clashed with Safire’s sleek, modern look.
“So you’re Safire’s new boy toy. You are a hottie. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Janelle Hawkins.”
Darien hadn’t liked what she’d said, but he didn’t let it show. “Hi,” he responded. “I hope it’s okay if I’m here. Will I be in your way if I rummage in the kitchen for a few minutes?”
“No, help yourself.”
Darien went into the kitchen and looked in the fridge. Was he a boy toy to Safire? Had she described him that way?
There were eggs, so he started breakfast. He knew Safire used the word hottie a lot, but that was another thing, unless it was paired with boy toy. Last night she hadn’t said that she loved him. She’d said that she loved making love with him. Darien shook his head. The puzzle pieces were filling in a rather unbecoming picture.
Darien looked at the eggs, remembered the roommate—Janelle—and went back into the dining room.
“Would you like some eggs?”
“None for me. But thanks.”
“Okay.”
He wanted to ask her about the boy-toy comment, but he didn’t know how to word that question, not without giving away his concern—and his embarrassment. He looked down. His shirt was open. He closed it.
Darien covered the eggs and readied the bread in the toaster. Janelle probably didn’t even fully understand what she had said. If Safire thought he was a boy toy, he would have to show her that he could be more, that they could have more. He sensed in everything that they did together they could have something real. He would have to show her that their relationship could be more than just physical.
He popped down the toaster. He was ready to do and be more.
Chapter 9
Safire closed her book. This was going to be one of the busiest Sundays of her year, and she had gotten up early to spend some time getting ready for her reading groups. The younger class was reading an illustrated book of poems by Maya Angelou. The older class had begun evolving into a literature-and-film class. This week they were reading an excerpt of The Autobiography of Malcolm X and watching clips from Spike Lee’s movie. Next week was Alice Walker’s The Color Purple.
It was only nine o’clock, but Safire had engagements all day. First it was brunch with some of her girls. She’d been ditching them because of her work at the Heritage Center and in order to help more with her little brother and so that she could spend some of her free time with Darien. Today, they were meeting at Moody’s at ten.
When Safire got there—late—her girls were already there. They chided her for being absent from their happenings, ribbed her over the new man in her life and resituated her within their fold. Mostly, they wanted to hear about the new man.
“Give up the goods, sugar,” Rayelle said. “Tell us about the new man.”
“Uh-huh,” Jackie echoed. “Who’s been keeping you away from us? He must be one fine hunk of burning love to have you occupied this long.”
“Hottie. She called him a hottie,” Camilla said. “And does he taste as good as he looks? You were trying to find out.”
“And you know,” Amelia said, “she took him to Palm Beach when I couldn’t go.”
“Get out of here. How long have you known this man?” Unique asked.
“Apparently, long enough,” Rayelle said.
Her girls raised their hands and snapped.
“You all are too much for me,” Latoya said. “We need mimosas.”
“Tell us something,” Jackie demanded.
“Okay, okay,” Safire said. “He’s an artist, and he’s an Adonis.”
She realized that she was giving her girls an empty sketch to shut them up. She didn’t want to reveal how much she liked Darien, how amazing it was—in the bedroom and out. She didn’t want to say something that might not come true. She also was a private person, to some extent. And it occurred to her that this was even true with Darien. She might need to work on that.
But there was a bit more to it. Individually, she could confide in her girls, but as a group, they would end up teasing her to no end—at least at first. Putting that together with how tight-lipped she was in the first place, and she surely wouldn’t say anything now, at least not yet, not before she had a permanent, full-fledged reason to withstand their ribbing. As always, Safire didn’t want to reveal herself, but now she actually had something to reveal. She was dating someone—for real. She’d dated a lot, but not like this. She played it off, or tried to.
“I’ve seen him a few times,” she added, “but I have to see where it goes.”
“Where it goes?” Camilla eyed her. “That’s a little new.”
“Now, leave sweet pea alone,” said Latoya. “She’s always open to possibility.” Latoya turned to look for the waiter. “Now, where are the mimosas?”
Luckily, they had a lot of catching up to do, so they didn’t focus on Safire for too long. And actually, Safire had to be the first to leave. She was meeting her sister across town to look at more wedding dresses and to shop for cocktail dresses and lingerie for Angelina’s honeymoon.
They were starting at the bridal store, and Safire got there in time to see her sister going inside. Safire greeted Angelina with a hug and a smile and then watched while Angelina tried on a series of gowns. Safire always liked the strapless ones that hugged the body down to the hips or thighs. She thought they accented all of her sister’s curves. As usual, though, Angelina wanted something more traditional. Today, Angelina’s favorite was a sleeveless gown with an open back that hugged her body down to the thighs but then flared out in back. This was Safire’s top choice, too, and they were both leaning toward it.
Safire couldn’t help envying her sister a little bit. She wanted Angelina to have the whole world laid at her feet for all that she’d been through raising their little brother and looking after their great-aunt and cousin, but she also couldn’t help thinking of Darien and wondering what it would be like to shop for a wedding dress of her own.
“If you get that dress,” she said to Angelina, “save it for me. I might want to use it someday.”
Her sister’s eyes opened wide, and her mouth gaped. Then she got a quizzical look on her face.
“This new guy has had an impact, hasn’t he?”
“Maybe, we’ll see.”
But Safire couldn’t help smiling.
The next stop was lingerie. Here was where her sister needed her advice the most. Angelina seemed hesitant to even go into the store. Safire took her older sister’s arm, and the two went through the door hand in hand, like conspirators. Safire had a blast picking things out for Angelina to try.
“Don’t think about me, Angelina. Think about the way Jeremy will look when he sees you. Come on. He’s a good guy. He deserves it.”
Whenever her sister hedged, Safire gave her a pep talk and asked, “Does it fit?” If it did, it went in the basket—all except the red number with bows.
They had more of a chance to talk looking for cocktail dresses.
“I have specific directions from Jeremy on this, Angelina. He likes what you wore on the cruise, and those were mine, so go with me here.”
“These are so expensive.”
Safire put an arm on her sister’s shoulder. “You’re marrying a doctor, and you also have your own income. Get over it. You deserve it.”
“I know,” Angelina said, ever cautious, “but we have Philly and Alex and a new house.”
“You’ll be renting the old one, so you’ll have income from that. And by the time Philly goes to college, we’ll both be able to help him.”
Angelina held up their last selection, a maroon off-the-shoulder gown. “But they don’t all have to be thigh-high.”
“Okay, not all,” Safire said, “just ninety percent. Remember, he liked mine. And next time we go shopping, we’re going to get you some proper heels.”
“No deal. I can’t walk in those things you wear.”
“I’ll show you ones you can.”
“Speaking of men,” Angelina said, obviously being careful about the topic she was about to broach, “how are things going with your new flame? Are you still seeing a lot of him?”
“All there is to see.” Safire winked at her sister.
Angelina gawked, and Safire broke out laughing. She loved scandalizing her sister, and it took so little.
“Actually,” Safire admitted, “I like him a lot, maybe more. But we’re also really different. I don’t know. But being around him is...exhilarating.” Safire knew she was gushing a bit, but this was her sister, so she didn’t worry as much.
“Aw...” Angelina touched her cheek. “You really do like him, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, when do we get to meet him?”
“Maybe tonight, if he can come. I haven’t told him about it yet. I’ve been so busy. Oh, no,” Safire looked at her watch. “I’m supposed to meet him at five. I have to run. Let’s get these rung up.”
The sisters hugged at the door, and Safire ran to her car. She was meeting Darien outside a place called Intimate Encounters, a place that would just shock her sister. And that was the point. Safire was going to get her present for Angelina’s bachelorette party, and she wanted something outrageous. She’d done the sentimental thing for the wedding—engraved wineglasses and a family album and all of that. She wanted the bachelorette party to be scandalous.
Safire checked her face in the rearview mirror and smoothed down her skirt. She had worn a little black skirt with a ruffled hem. It was chiffon, but it was lined, and it hit her well above the knee. She had a white top that had ruffles hanging down from a low V-neck and from the cuffs. She tied these together with a wide black belt and her black pumps.
She was a few minutes late, and Darien was waiting for her outside the store. Darien had on blue slacks and a blue-and-purple shirt, and he looked as handsome as always, with his muscular shoulders showing beneath his shirt and his diamond-cut features smiling. One of his braids hung down from his temple. She tweaked it when she was close enough, and then she greeted him with a kiss and a smile.
“We can’t have eye candy like you standing outside a store like this. Some randy woman might get ideas and try to carry you off,” she said, and then laughed.
“Have you ever been in this store before?” Darien asked. He evidently had not.
“I most certainly have,” Safire replied, taking his arm the way she had taken her sister’s arm. “Come along.”
Darien watched Safire as she perused the store’s supply of sexual paraphernalia, hanging back a little from the counters and the clothing racks.
Safire tickled his side and whispered, “If you see anything for us, just let me know.” He smiled but didn’t say anything.
Finally, unable to make up her mind, Safir
e talked to the woman at the counter. “I need something that two people can use, that’s electric and that’s great for a bachelorette party.”
They had just the thing.
“This has a long cord so either partner can operate it. It has eight speeds and can be used on either partner.”
“I love it,” Safire said. “Do you like it?”
Darien shrugged, noncommittal. “Will your friend like it?”
“She’ll just die! But if she uses it, I think she’ll love it.”
“Okay,” he said. “Then this is it.”
To go with it, Safire picked a skimpy baby-doll nightie with a matching thong. Angelina was going to have a fit, but Jeremy was going to love it—if she could get Angelina to wear it. She held it up for Darien.
“You like?”
He shrugged and nodded.
“Do you want to pick one for me?” Safire asked him.
“Maybe one’s enough for today.”
After shopping, they went to a nearby Chinese restaurant where both she and Darien could find something to eat.
“Did it bother you to go in there?” Safire asked. “You were rather quiet.” Safire had noticed Darien’s reserve—another difference between them. She wanted to know if this would be a problem between them or if there was something else wrong. He’d been a little reserved since the last time he’d come to her apartment, and she didn’t know why. Today, though, he was more reticent than he had been over their past few talks.
“No.” He smiled. “I guess I’m not used to...places like Intimate Encounters.” He pursed his lips, and she wondered if he was saying all that there was to be said. “I just hope,” he added, “that you don’t like that stuff better than the real thing.”
Safire touched Darien’s face. “Never with you.”
Darien kissed her palm and then smiled.
“We can use playthings together sometimes if you’d like,” he offered.
Safire just smiled, her mind flashing to erotic scenes between them.
Captivated Love Page 10