Holding it to me, I smoothed it down my front as I felt my nose start to sting.
I’d never seen anything so exquisite, touched it, held it and certainly never, ever owned it.
Then I carefully laid it out across the back of the couch and went back to the bag.
Dress two, a metallic platinum. Sublime.
Dress three, red. Flawless. Awe-inspiring.
After smoothing the red out on the couch, I went to the next bag.
Shoes. Three pairs. All high heels. All sandals. One pair black. One platinum. One red. The prices on the labels on the sides were not torn off or marked out and the least expensive pair was seven hundred and fifty dollars.
My heart, beating hard, started racing.
Next bag, three exquisite evening clutches. Red sequins. Black jet beads. Champagne satin.
Next bag, this one smaller, a bunch of little boxes. One, a collection of thin bangles, all set with tiny red beads. Another, earrings that matched the bangles, long threads of red beads mixed with long threads of thin silver links. Another, a twisting choker of strings and strings of jet beads. Another, matching earrings that were a burst of the same. Another, a wide bracelet with an intricate, heavy, complicated clasp that was part of the adornment off of which were strung dozens upon dozens of tangled champagne, seed pearls. The last, earrings of the same, so long, when I held them up to my ear, they brushed my shoulders.
And finally, at the bottom of the dress bag, a business card sized card with Knight’s black slashes, ordering:
A, Saturday, pick one. K
Pick one.
Pick one.
Nose still stinging, I stared at my couch and coffee table over which was strewn a cornucopia of feminine delights as delivered by my awesome, protective, scary new boyfriend who hadn’t even kissed me yet.
Then, stiltedly, I walked to my purse on the floor, bent, grabbed it and equally stiltedly walked back to my couch as I dug out my phone. Once my fingers curled around my extortionately expensive phone, I dumped my cheap (but cute) purse next to the expensive new “shit” Knight had delivered to me. Then I bent my head and hit buttons.
Then I put the phone to my ear.
Knight’s smooth, deep voice said in my ear, “Sebring, leave a message.”
And the message I left was a soft, trembling, “Honey, you haven’t even kissed me yet.”
Then, feeling stupid, scared, elated, mystified and anxious not only that this felt so good, often times right, many times terrifying, sometimes confusing but also anxious that he’d given me so much, no matter what it was, that I wouldn’t live up to the promise he saw in me, I beeped the button to disconnect and stared at my booty.
Then I sucked in breath and carefully, reverently put my stash away in my bedroom before I made a quick sandwich, ate it and set up for my client at my cute, chipped, white-painted, quirky dinette that a friend gave me when she moved in with her man and he declared he would not sit his ass at that dinette.
* * * * *
I was riding an elephant. It was white, its trunk up and trumpeting.
I was in my new red dress, shoes and bangles and I was giggling.
And somewhere my cell phone was ringing.
* * * * *
My eyes opened and I saw dark. I heard my cell stop ringing and I blinked at my alarm clock.
It was twelve thirteen.
Then I heard the call up buzzer sound in my living room.
What on earth?
I threw back my new, down comforter with its subtle, soft, flowery pattern (okay, so I had more flowers but they were in another room so that was acceptable). Part sleepy, definitely groggy I dashed in my baby blue with tiny pink polka dots drawstring, pajama short-shorts and my baby pink shelf bra camisole into the living room.
I flipped on the overhead light, grabbed the phone off the wall by the side of the door and muttered, “’Lo.”
“Anya, babe, been out here five fuckin’ minutes. You gotta sleep like the dead. Buzz me up.”
My breath left me.
Knight.
I blinked. Then I shook myself and depressed the button that buzzed him up.
I heard the door outside open through the receiver then nothing.
I put the phone back in its cradle and stared at it.
He hadn’t called after my client. He hadn’t called between clients. He hadn’t called at all, not even after I left a message. This was disappointing and a little scary. But I got to sleep telling myself when my day ended, his started so I had to get over it because clearly his demonstration that day was not about game playing.
And now it was after midnight and he was here.
Here.
Right now.
Taking the elevator (maybe).
And I had bed head, no makeup and was in my pajamas.
Oh God!
Panic instantly froze me as a million thoughts coursed through my head. None of which I had time to do anything about like changing, swiping on mascara, brushing my hair and/or teeth or spritzing with perfume and I knew this because there was a knock at the door.
I shifted to it since I was standing at it, looked through the peephole and saw Knight’s handsome head tipped down staring at what I figured was my doorknob.
Suit, dark again, this time a shirt the exact color of his eyes.
God, God, he was beautiful.
Another knock. Impatient.
I jumped, unlocked the deadbolt, the twist lock on the knob and slid off and dropped the chain. Then I put my hand to the knob to turn it but it was turning in my hand already.
I jumped back when the door opened and Knight surged through.
I looked up at his face, seeing instant and extreme intensity and whispered, “Honey, is everything oh –?”
I got no further. This was because his hands were cupping my jaws and pulling me firmly up until I was on my toes at the same time his head was descending.
Then his mouth slammed down on mine.
I made a noise at the back of my throat, lifted my hands and curled my fingers into the lapel of his jacket.
His tongue darted out against my lips.
My mouth opened and it swept inside.
Oh my, he tasted good.
I whimpered, held his lapels tight as my legs got weak and my body swayed into him.
His tongue plundered my mouth and there was no other word for it. That was it, plundered. And he did this delicious activity in a kiss that was very wet, very hard, very long, very demanding and very, very amazing.
So much so, I whimpered into his mouth, one hand detaching from his lapel to slide up swiftly, around the warm, sleek skin of his neck and into the soft, thick mess of his hair. I pressed my torso deep into his as best as I could, still holding onto his jacket with his hands at my jaw.
And I gave myself to the kiss. To Knight. All of me cupped in his hands. All of me plundered by his talented tongue.
He tore his mouth from mine and I made a mew of protest because I didn’t want to lose it. It had become the reason for my being. It was existence. At the same time my fingers spasmed in his hair and I pushed even closer in a nonverbal effort to share this message.
I felt his warm breath on my lips, it was coming fast and my eyes slowly opened to look into Knight’s dark, hungry ones.
“Now I’ve kissed you, babe, feel better?” he asked, his voice rough and so… fucking… beautiful.
I wanted to laugh because it was funny. It was also sweet.
But I couldn’t.
I could only hold on and breathe, “Yes.”
His eyes moved over my face and darkened, that intensity corresponding with the intensity of the wetness gathering between my legs and he asked, “Like the dresses?”
“Yes,” I repeated breathily.
“Good,” he whispered then, still in a whisper, “Gotta get back, babe.”
I blinked and my hand spasmed in his hair again.
“What?”
“Work, Anya. I got shi
t to do. Didn’t have time, took it to get your gratitude now I gotta get back.”
I didn’t move, held on and held his eyes.
He let me for a long happy moment before muttering, “My baby doesn’t want me to leave.”
No. I didn’t.
I didn’t share that. I let my body do the talking and it did this by continuing to hold on and not move.
“Told you, baby,” he said softly, “when I took your mouth, we’d need time so I could give it attention. Your sweet message, couldn’t wait so I didn’t. But, fuckin’ sucks, now, I gotta go.”
He’d taken time out to come all the way to me.
God.
God.
I liked that.
And he needed to go.
So I pushed away, my hand sliding out of his hair as I whispered, “Okay, honey.”
The thumbs of his hands, still at my jaw, swept my cheeks. Then he leaned in, slid his nose along mine then lifted up as he pulled my face down and kissed my forehead.
Then he tipped my face to him again.
“Later, baby.”
“Later, Knight.”
His fingers gave my face a gentle squeeze then he let me go and he was gone.
I followed him, locked the locks, turned off the light, turned my back to the door and stared into my dark living room.
Then I wrapped my arms around my middle and smiled.
Huge.
Chapter Eight
Hold the Fuck On
I walked into the nearly summer-like air of the late March night.
It was Saturday just after ten. Less than five minutes ago, I got a buzz up with the announcement, “Yo. Ride to Slade at the curb.”
And that was it.
No greeting, no introduction and I knew by the electronic click he was gone.
So I got my bag, dashed to the bathroom to give myself one last look, opened my bag to make sure everything was there and I ran down.
The car was long, big, black and gleaming. It was also double-parked. And Hulk was standing outside it wearing a black shirt, black trousers, black blazer and a scowl.
“Back’s full, woman, you take front,” he declared when I got close then he opened the passenger-side door.
I smiled into his scowl because first, I was wearing a killer outfit. Second, I had a killer night with my friends ahead of me. And third, after three days of quick phone calls, nothing at all that day and the rest of the time Knight was sight unseen, I was going to see him that night.
I slid in and twisted immediately to look into the backseat where Viv and Sandrine where sitting, decked out, eyes on me, smiles huge.
“That… dress… is… hot! Ohmigod!” Sandrine shrieked.
“No joke, fuckin’ shit, she is not lying,” Viv concurred.
I grinned and whispered, “I know.”
Their huge smiles beamed. They knew about the dresses because I’d told them. In fact, I told them everything so they had both done an understandable about-face about Knight Sebring.
Hulk slid in, twisted his tree trunk neck and aimed his scowl at me.
“Woman. Buckle,” he grunted.
I looked back at the girls then turned to face forward and followed Hulk’s orders.
The minute he heard the click, Hulk put the car in gear and we started rolling. Then he reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a phone, flipped it open and hit buttons. He did all this with his eyes to the road.
He was taking a right when he said, “Yo.” Pause, “Yeah. She’s here.” Pause then, “Red.” Pause, “Later.”
He flipped his phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket.
But me…
I had stopped breathing.
Red.
He was reporting in.
Knight wanted to know which dress I was wearing.
I twisted my neck and looked back at the girls.
They had big eyes and still wore their huge smiles.
They knew what I knew.
I giggled.
They giggled too.
Hulk muttered, “Shit.”
I giggled harder.
They giggled harder too.
Hulk drove us to Slade.
* * * * *
I was standing in our VIP section holding a martini glass with the dregs of my lemon drop in my hand when the three friends I was talking to of the twenty-five I invited that night looked beyond me.
But I knew.
It was late, I’d been there hours. It had to be well past midnight. I’d had four lemon drops.
And finally he was there.
I turned my head and saw an aubergine shirt and black suit jacket then my eyes tipped up in time to see Knight’s head dip down right before his lips skimmed the skin of my bare shoulder.
That tingle came back but it slid up to my scalp and down to the small of my back, radiating out across my waist, hips and bottom.
God, lovely.
He lifted his head barely an inch but his eyes came to mine.
“Hey,” I whispered and I could, even in the loud club, he was that close.
“It fits,” he whispered back.
“Yeah,” I confirmed the obvious. The dress fit perfectly. Like it was made for me.
His eyes shifted over my shoulder and unfortunately he straightened but I felt the heat of his body hit my back as he got close.
“Ladies,” he greeted, his smooth voice pitched loud to be heard over the music.
I looked from Knight to them to see my girls were all staring in various degrees of shock and wonder.
“Knight,” my voice was pitched higher too and I indicated them in turn with their names, “this is Monica, Helen and Christie.”
He tipped his chin up.
Monica swallowed.
Helen peeped, “Hey.”
Christie flashed a quick wave and her lips moved but no sound came out.
I stifled a giggle.
“Right, you’re hot, my girl’s dress is scorching and I’m in the VIP section drinking free so, just FYI, you’ve elevated yourself above that dickface douchebag of a brother. Now I get he’s your brother and our skin isn’t the same, neither is our blood but I’m sister to Anya and Sandrine so I think you also get me.”
This was Viv perpetrating a sneak attack from the side and to make certain her important message was received over the music, she was shouting at Knight.
His head had turned to her. My heart had stopped beating. And Christie, Helen and Monica wisely affected a hasty retreat.
“I get you,” Knight replied.
“And there may be some universe where my girl Anya wears cheap shoes and saves for a fucking cell phone but this one isn’t it. Therefore she’s been living a travesty. I’m glad you’re sorting that shit out,” she went on, again loudly.
I felt Knight’s arm slide around my waist as I watched his lips twitch but he did not reply.
I, however, did.
“Viv, now’s a good time to shut up.”
“Men understand direct communication. It’s bitches who speak in code,” she returned.
Knight’s arm got tight, pulling my side into his.
I liked this, it felt nice. I wanted to enjoy it.
But since my friend was crawling up my nose being as she could be, direct, protective and crazy, instead of doing that, I retorted to Viv, “Right, well you communicated pretty directly. Now shut… up.”
“He bought you that dress, those shoes so he’s way into you in a way nothing I can do would make him less into you,” Vivica shot back.
“Let’s not test that, shall we?” I suggested loudly.
“As entertaining as this is,” Knight broke in, “if you wouldn’t mind, I wanna steal her a second.”
“Be my guest,” Vivica agreed magnanimously, sweeping her arm out and everything.
The good news was, Knight immediately moved me to a darkish corner where there was privacy, a booth seat lining the wall and no one around and the no one I wanted to be around
at that moment was freaking Viv. The other good news was, Sandrine was tipsy and therefore on the dance floor dancing by herself which was her way. This wouldn’t last long since one, two, five or twelve guys would join her eventually. But it meant she wasn’t there so she could not also embarrass me. And the last good news was that Knight was there. Finally.
And there was no bad news.
We got to the corner, Knight shifted me in a way I knew he wanted me to plant my bottom in the seat so I did. He moved in beside me, close beside me, slid an arm along the back of the booth seat but his eyes went across the platform, locked on something and he jerked up his chin.
I followed his eyes and saw the cocktail waitress rushing our way.
Then I felt my glass sliding out of my hand. I looked down to see it was now in Knight’s then I followed it to watch him hand it off to the cocktail waitress.
“Anya gets San Pellegrino the rest of the night starting now,” he ordered, she nodded and dashed away.
I looked at Knight.
“What? Why? I have a VIP card. Kathleen dropped it off for me. I’ve never been a VIP. I need to live it up.”
“Babe, you’re mine. Anytime you’re in Slade you’re a VIP and drink free.”
Oh.
Cool.
“Really?” I asked.
He stared at me then shook his head and one side of his mouth curved up.
I guessed that was my answer since he said nothing further and although his head shake was negative my guess was his answer was positive.
Since he didn’t say anything, I did.
“Why water, Knight? I’m not drunk. I’m not even tipsy.”
“And you’re not gonna get that way. I’ll fuck you drunk, baby, but not the first time.”
My breath left me in a hard whoosh.
Knight kept talking. “So water, the rest of the night. You get me?”
I nodded.
His eyes moved over my face.
Then he asked, “You got anything for me?”
I stared. Then I panicked.
He gave me a driver, a VIP section and four free drinks (as well as unlimited San Pellegrino not to mention the dress I was wearing, etc.). Was I supposed to bring a thank you gift?
“Uh…” I mumbled then stopped.
“Anya, I haven’t seen you since Tuesday.”
This was true.
Knight Page 12