by Carol May
Managing to untangle myself from what just mere moments ago was a Houston induced cocoon. My hands are craving to touch him, to feel him, to have more than a memory, to actually have him inside me. I fling myself toward him wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Immediately burying my face into his neck, I’m feeding all my senses with the real thing. I manage to mumble, “You’re back!”
It would appear so.” With a sexy, slow smile he continues, “I gather from this greeting you missed me.” Sliding down to the floor, I can feel his lean muscles, along with his delicious hard erection. Smacking his chest, “You know I missed you.”
“If you slide down me like that each time I am away, then expect me to be away quite a bit.” Holding up one finger he says, “Let me think. I believe I received a text from a woman babbling on something about needing my arms. From what I just felt, it is quite possible that you might need more than my arms.”
Smiling, I add, “You, sir know I need much more than your arms.” Reaching out to touch what I know to be an erection, my smile grows as does Houston. He stutters a little but quickly recovers and continues, “As I was saying before I was felt up, maybe it wasn’t you that sent the text. No, I’m certain it came from a number that identified you as the sender. Wait, maybe I should be more careful about who I discuss my texts with.” The mischievous smile that is dancing across his face, only adds fuel to the fire burning within my body.
Loving this, playful mood. I join in the teasing. Trying my best to give him a serious look, “You know, I’m not sure if I did or not.” With a crooked half smile, he continues, “It sounds like you are having issues, let me read the text in question to refresh your memory.” Reaching into his pants pocket, producing his phone he reads, “I’m lonely! Where are you? When will you be back? I need your arms around me. It’s been toolong..”
“I missed you. I hope you know that. What I really missed is…” reaching for the buttons on his shirt my hands are itching to get him out of his clothes. Taking a small step back, lifting his eyebrows just a little as he asks, “What are you doing?”
Smiling a seductive, take me smile, I answered, “Unbuttoning you, stranger.”
Raising his voice just enough for me to pause, he says “Stranger? Don’t tell me I have been gone so long you have forgotten my name. Do you need to be reminded of how I feel as I drive myself deep into you? The things I do to your body?” I pause my hands midair. With a questioning look, I stood there for just a second trying to process what he is saying when he puts my hands down at my sides. In a voice, I know is Houston’s but in a tone, I’ve never heard before he simply says, “Lie down, and don’t move.” Not understanding why he is talking this way but finding myself eager to follow directions, I lay down. It’s almost as if he has some hypnotic, power radiating from those brooding, brown eyes.
Finally, he put his hands under my knees and pulls me to him. With hands lingering, I felt subtle caresses on the tender skin behind my knees. With each circular motion his hands move up. Stopping on my outer thighs. Grasping the hem of my/his shirt, he taps my hip, saying “raise up.” He pulls it up to my waist. Next comes, “sit up.” Once I am sitting, he slowly teasingly pulls the shirt raising my arms above my head as he goes. “Lie down Baby, keep your arms above your head and let me look at you. I love your body, Charli. Not too thin. Perfect. I hate those thin women that look as if they are a bag of bones. I like curves. You truly are perfect. Your curves give me something to look at; something I can get my hands onto. You curve in all the right places, Baby.”
Crawling onto the bed, straddling my legs, he moves the shirt up to my wrists. Gathering it together, holding it in one hand it becomes cloth handcuffs. Because of his position over me, all I can barely do is raise my head
“Head down, close your eyes and keep them closed. I’ll stop if you open them. Do you want me to stop baby?”
With a ragged breath, I manage to moan, “No.”
“What do you want, Charli?”
“You.”
“You are mistaken my sweet, I didn’t ask who you want, I ask what you want. Now, can you answer me correctly?” I nod my head because I’m afraid I might say the wrong thing.
“Do I need to ask the question again to refresh your memory because I have a feeling based upon the way your body is trying to move against me that the question isn’t what my woman is focusing on at this minute?”
Nodding again, with a smile on my face, I hear the question, “What do you want, Charli?” “I want you to make me forget today.” I feel light kisses just below my right breast. My ragged breathing lets him know all he needs to. Slowly licking my lips, I crave more. The tip of his tongue continues the assault across my body, barley touching my skin. Moving upward nipping playfully into my swollen breast, the fire inside me is quickly growing to an inferno. “I missed you my sweet.” Moaning with desire that I can no longer contain, he either kisses or licks my tingling skin between each word. He knows exactly what he is doing to me, driving me crazy with desire.
“Do you remember the text, now? Is all you need my arms around you or did you just say you want me?”
“Houston,” was all I could moan.
Continuing the slow torture of his tantalizing touch, he begins switching between his tongue, the tip of his nose and kisses as he continued his maddening journey upward. Holding my arms above my head, he is cutting off all my sense of touch. Damn him, he knows exactly what he is doing.
“Even waking from sleep, you smell alluring, Charli.”
Inhaling deeply, “I missed your smell, too,” he mumbled into my neck. “Gathering my thoughts I managed to say, “I want to touch you.” You aren’t playing fair by using my shirt against me.
“I beg your pardon my sweet temptress, it is my shirt and I will use it any damn way I choose.” With my increasing desire to feel any part of him against me, I turned to him. He finally takes my lips plunging his tongue into my mouth.
“OH MY GOD!”
Mumbling in the deepest, sexiest voice I think I have heard, “No baby, I’m Houston not God,” as he smirks.
“What have you been drinking?”
“Why my dear Charli, I’ve been indulging in good ole sour mash whiskey from the bluegrass state of Kentucky.”
The passion with which he took my lips just seconds ago felt wonderful but the smell that escapes him eliminates my desire. How did I not smell this when I literally jumped into his arms?
“You smell like a brewery.”
He quickly releases the shirt that is restraining my hands and he rolls off me. I pull it down as I sit up turning to look at him putting my bent leg up onto the bed.
“I had a few on the plane and possibly a few since I’ve been home.”
My eyes grew wide, “Since you’ve been home? How long have you been here?”
He hesitates before he answers, his facial expression changing from passion to what seems like anger in a matter of seconds, “I don’t know but before you.”
The tone wounds me but the words break my heart.
“How could you have been here when I came in? Let me understand this, while I laid in your bed, on your pillow, needing your arms around me, YOU were in this penthouse somewhere? Were you sitting inside your locked office that has all of your truly personal items? You know the things you don’t want me to see. Were you doing that while I wandered around this quiet mausoleum? I needed you to tell me everything would be fine! I needed to feel your kiss and to hear you call me Baby!”
Standing up, he turned around. When I looked at him, our eyes locked. “Well, Baby! It’s not always about you and what your needs are.”
Realizing, I need space and that at this very moment I need to get away from him, I walk out of the room, down the stairs and into the elevator. I push the button and wait for it to stop. I get out and just stand. Now what?
Chapter 22
I really don’t know why I came up to the pool. Maybe it just got me far eno
ugh away but not too far. Plus, all I have on is Houston’s shirt. Of course, it is longer on me than some of my dresses. I have no idea how long I’ve been standing here. Suddenly, I realize I’m being a selfish bitch. So what if he smells like a vat of whiskey. He came home to me. Who the hell am I to question him like that? We’re not married. We don’t even live together.
Walking over to the elevator, I can’t get down to him fast enough. Stepping into the glass foyer that I thought was so clever when I first came here, I realize just how much he means to me. For the second time in my life, I am deeply in love. Smiling, I begin searching for my magnificent man, at least I hope he is still mine. I have some serious apologizing to do. I know just how I want to apologize. More than likely he is in his office. Turning the knob, I get a surprise. The door is locked. I eliminate all his downstairs hangouts, before moving up a level. I’m beginning to get a little nervous. What if he left while I was in full-blown bitch mode? Do I go home and possibly face the vultures or stay here and wait for him? Walking into the bedroom, expecting to find him asleep. Oh, crap! Oh Crap! I’m wrong. My heart begins to race. What if he really has left? He has a plane, what if he decided to leave Miami? Can he do that, leave that quickly? I practically run into the bathroom, coming back out through the closet into the bedroom, I catch a glimpse of him, sitting in a chair looking out into the now dark sky. I walk over and stand beside him. Without saying a word, he gently takes my hand as he stands.
“I thought you left me. I am so sorry, H. I had no right to say those things.”
Still not saying anything, he raises his hands to cup both sides of my face. Gently caressing my checks, I think I hear him whisper, “Never.” Taking my hand and leading us into the bathroom, we stop in front of the multi-head shower, I smile as he pulls his shirt off. He knows. Damn him he knows exactly what he is doing. I always like to watch him turn the water on. For whatever the reason, I find watching this simple task very sensual. It’s his finely sculpted muscles moving as one that I just can’t pull myself away from.
Turning to face me with a small genuine smile spreading across his face, “I shouldn’t have stayed in the office. I hadn’t been back very long when Jeffery came in. He didn’t want to tell me about your day. He knew what it would do to me. I had to threaten him. Finally, he enlightened me about the things they said to you, how you looked. I was furious. Not with the scum you had to deal with but with myself. I left you without any protection. I should have known better. I just didn’t think they would go after you so quickly. I had a couple more shots.”
Slowly undressing the other, we playfully touch. Stepping into the multi-head shower, the hot water hits us from every direction. Picking up a soft cloth, I apply body wash and move to Houston. Beginning to wash his well -defined body, no matter how many times I try, I can’t pull my eyes from his. This might possibly be the most erogenous bath I will ever experience. We are tenderly washing each other, not missing one inch. With each swipe of the cloth it is as if we are wiping away all of the intenseness from earlier. The water is beginning to cool which signals for us to think about getting out. Houston pulls me to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he grasps the back of my thighs and scoops me up in a protective embrace as if I were nothing. Taking two steps, I feel my back press against the marble wall. Leaning his forehead against mine me, he speaks. “When I read your text about the shit storm, I lost it.” Pulling him tighter to me, if that is possible, the only words I can manage to squeak out are, “its okay Houston.” Standing with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, I want to crawl inside his skin. I can’t get close enough. “No, it is not ok Charli. I was just about to enter an important meeting with men that had traveled a very long way, crossing several continents to sign contracts with Highland Diversified. I was not very pleasant. I signed the contracts, explained I had an emergency in Miami and I left them.”
“Ah, ok. I really don’t know how to respond to that, Houston. I regret sending you text. Please forgive me.” Frowning, just a little, he turns us around, walking out of the shower with his powerful arms wrapped underneath my bottom. As I slide down his wet slick body, Houston wraps a bath sheet off the heated bar around me. He begins drying my body as gently as if he were rubbing a fragile piece of glass. Wrapping me in another warm towel, he dries himself. Kissing my shoulder, patting my behind, he winks at me saying, “Go on and get something on, I want to brush my teeth.”
Secretly, that makes me very happy. I don’t care for the smell of whiskey. After today, I can say with fair certainty, the only way I will ever drink whiskey again is if I am out of my mind. Opening the t-shirt drawer, retrieving one for me, not knowing what we wants to put on, I pick up the remote to close it. These remote controlled drawers are amazing. I have to admit, I’ve wondered what would happen if there was a power outage. Smiling, shaking my head as I return it back to it’s place all I can think is men and their remotes. As I pull the shirt over my head, Houston enters the closet, grabs some of his favorite athletic pants, as he calls them, slips them on and gives me the once over. Shaking his head, “No. I don’t think so. Are you trying to drive me crazy? There are others here, bottoms,” as he moved his finger up and down. I pull out a pair of my leggings and off we go downstairs. Normally, I would put up a fight about how far his tee comes down my legs. I would point out it covers as much if not more than some of my dresses but I think it best not to push it right now. H needs to feel in control.
Chapter 23
Even though he said there were others here, I see or hear no one. We automatically go into the kitchen. Each of us begins pulling items for our meal. I suppose we are really hungry. Funny, neither of us realized it until we came downstairs. The conversation between is stifled. We are trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Obviously, we want, no not want because Lord knows I would like to completely wipe the entire day out of my mind, but need to discuss the day’s events. Neither of us broaches the subject other than what was said upstairs.
As we ate our honey-lime grilled chicken and Greek cucumber salad, a thought suddenly hit me. “Houston, where did this food come from?” Raising his head and with a quizzical look on his face, he manages to get “What?” out between bites.
“Where did this food come from?”
Pausing for a minute, a grin breaking across his once stone face, “Well, I’m not sure which poultry farm but I am sure the chicken was treated humanely, if that is your concern. The seasonings came from wherever they come from. I do know at one time in history, actually thousands of years ago, my answer might have been The Spice Islands. As for the salad…”
Stop it! You jerk.” I pick up my napkin, contemplating if I should toss it at him. Only problem that briefly crosses my mind is what might come back at me. Smiling, I give him my what the hell look instead. “You know exactly what I mean, smartass. Where did this food come from?” I begin waving my hands above my plate as if I am some game show hostess. “I know you have some standing orders from local chefs, some of it is delivered frozen and you cook it but I mean this specific food tonight. You have been gone for over a month. I was here yesterday morning and I don’t think it was here.”
“It was delivered this morning, Baby.” Lifting my eyebrows, with a what the hell look, I stand, pick my plate up enter the kitchen of this open floor plan. Setting the plate on the counter, I walk to the refrigerator, jerk the door open and find it fully stocked with fresh items. “Houston?”
“Yes.”
Doing my best to seem very casual, I decide to use a different plan of attack to get an actual answer. Two can play the casual game, my dear hunk. Telling myself, I am not going to be a shrew about what I just saw. Turning to the garbage disposal, I scrap my plate, and begin to wash it. “Never mind.”
“I really wish you would learn to leave that. That is what I pay a considerably hefty cleaning service bill for. They come in each day and take care of the previous day’s items.” Walking over to the table where we ate, I look down at h
is plate. He must be finished so I repeat the process. “Humor me, ok? I like to feel useful and don’t try to change the subject.”
With as casual a voice as I’m sure he can muster, he simply states, “I’m unsure as to what subject you are referring to.”
Oh, I would just love to see him in action during a business negotiation. “A fridge full of fresh food is the subject.” Looking at him, he knows darn well what I am talking about. Standing, he takes me by the hand, guiding us to the elevator. As the elevator doors open up to a lite area, the LED lighting draws my eyes to his pool’s infinity edge as we step onto the deck. Each time I stand here, looking across the pool I feel as if I am walking toward a sky full of ocean. Wait, I don’t remember the lights being on earlier. How does he do that stuff? That was the last thought I had about any type of lights.
Pulling me into his arms, Houston kisses my neck finding “the spot.” It’s the exact spot that always reduces me to something that resembles a volcano of hot lava waiting to erupt. Pulling away, he scoops me up, carries me over to a contemporary patio chair, that I secretly call the nut chair because it reminds me of a cocoa nut. Releasing me, I slide down his body as his hands trace my waist all the way up. (This scooping and sliding seems to be a trend tonight. A girl could get use to all this extra contact I’m experiencing) Lowering himself down first, I casually stand watching him as he is looking at me. WOW! That is hot. Pulling me closer to him, every nerve ending within my body is screaming for him to stop undressing me with his eyes. I’d prefer if his hands took over and were moving across my body releasing me from this oversized shirt which I find is actually confining me. After a minute or two, H. pulls me into our favorite sitting position. I’m leaning back against his chest but sitting between his legs feeling his erection press against my backside. Scooting back as far as I can, a moan escapes him. (My inner city girl might be dancing around just a little, fist pumping in the air but I’ll never tell.) Tightly, wrapping his muscular arms around me, we sit snuggling each lost in their thoughts.