by Vicki Batman
“I’m sorry.” His mouth curved downwards at this news. “What can I do? You want me to talk to her?”
“No!” I said in horror. When I realized lots of people had heard and turned in my direction, I smiled back.
“I only want to help.”
“I know. I wonder… You know we have to go back next week?”
Nodding, he took a sip of wine.
“We need to finish.”
He touched his glass to mine with a smile. “Come hell or high water, I’ll show. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Thanks.” We resumed eating. I should say he ate with gusto. Under extreme conditions, guys always managed to eat. I picked and continued to move food from the right side of the plate to the left and back. Hopefully, my edginess didn’t show much. Under the table, however, a different story unfolded. My right foot had begun tapping.
I really wanted to know if he felt the same about me, like I felt about him. I thought he did, especially with the get lucky line from the other day, but still harbored some doubt.
With a clink-clink of a knife to their glasses, the couples’ parents stood. The guests centered all attention on them. They made brief speeches and the delightful announcement. Afterward, we showered the happy couple with enthusiastic congratulations and stood for a formal toast.
Later, the groom’s father said, “Please continue to celebrate with us over dessert and dancing on the patio.”
The music started up. I recognized a Sinatra tune sure to entice guests to the dance floor.
A. Wellborn set his napkin next to his plate. “Would you like to dance?”
Because of my heels and the three glasses of wine, I ran a mental checkup to see if I was in proper shaking and jiving condition. Not too ghastly. I set my hand to his. He assisted me to my feet, and with his hand lightly placed on my lower back, guided me to the patio. With his thumb stroking my bare spine, I scarcely noticed the festive fairy lights, the music… Really, anything.
Smooth and flawless best described his dancing. One arm circled my back, pulling me close, while the other supported my hand. The rhythm wasn’t only in the music. It filtered through my body. Being held in his arms embodied pure intoxication. Charged by the electricity arching between us, my entire being went hot. I liked the way he moved. I liked all of him.
He pulled me tighter and rested his jaw against the topside of my head. Occasionally, he hummed along with the music.
A fragrance wafted my way, and I took a small sniff, finding he didn’t wear fancy cologne. Some guys I’d dated wore way too much scent. With a good night kissing session, the odor had rubbed over my face which meant my sinuses were permeated for days. I pressed my nose to A. Wellborn’s neck and inhaled again. He smelled like…old-fashioned soap, the kind scented with crisp pine. Mmm, divine.
His embrace emboldened me. My left arm reached around his broad back for more. My breasts lightly grazed his chest, and throbbing began down low. I brought the other arm around and clasped both behind his neck. His irises deepened to almost black as he gazed intently into mine. His hands moved lower, resting at my waist, pulling me closer to... Do I feel an arousal?
He whispered in my ear, “You smell incredible.”
So he’d noticed. Thank you, Chanel No. 5.
“Sorta like my mom.”
Euew. That’s...horrible. Well, maybe she had great taste, too. Leaning slightly back, I studied his face. He looked to be just as pleased with the way things were progressing. A happy glint in his eyes made the corners scrunch up. A baby smile lifted his mouth. We swayed with the music and stared deeply into each other’s soul. A desire, especially when our bodies made contact at the waist and hips, intensified. When would he kiss me until my whole body tingled again?
For an hour, we forgot about the rest of the party and concentrated on the two of us and what developed in our own little world. The comfort level let us explore each other. Lightly, hands moved here or there, touching an arm, a shoulder, my naked back—Holy Mother of God. My face pushed closer to his neck where once again, I took in the soapy smell. I felt an overwhelming compulsion to kiss the spot, so I did.
“Thanks.”
I pressed a second kiss near his ear and whispered, “You’re welcome.”
Eventually, we stopped for refreshments and small talk with friends. Observing him fall easily into their company, I admired his warmth and personality, his humor, and his kindness. I held the dessert plate while he took a lemon bar, bit off a bite, and placed the rest against my lips. I took in a nibble and the tip of his finger, giving it a flick with my tongue. Golly, he even tasted delectable. A glance at my friends told me they were momentarily shocked.
We slipped away to the patio for the final dance. As I raised my right hand toward his, he clasped my wrist. “What happened to your finger?”
“Oh, I cut it with a letter opener today at work.”
“You were working on a Saturday?”
“I had computer problems yesterday and went in this morning to finish. I opened a few letters intended for me with Opal’s opener and nicked my finger.”
He buzzed the small cut. “The letter opener was very sharp if you had to put on a bandage.”
At the brush of his lips, I almost puddled on the floor. “It looks like a dagger from the Far East. She’s rather picky about who uses it. I’m not allowed. Maybe because it’s sharp.”
Midnight had arrived, and the party broke up. A. Wellborn noticed my fatigue. “Time to go.”
Greatly relieved, I retrieved my bag and wrap, said our goodbyes to the hosts, and we departed. Once stowed in his truck, I could barely hold open my eyes.
“How’s the temp job?” he asked as we made our way home.
“Mmm?” I shook the fog from my head. “At the insurance company? I’ve already told you about this morning; so it’s basically the same.”
“Did you finish?”
“Yes. I felt funny...weird being at the office after hours. I wrongly sensed someone watching me.”
“But you checked? No one was there?”
“No one. Just me having boogey man feelings.” I remembered the flat. “And another thing. It’s weird, too.”
His brow veed. “Tell me about it.”
“In the parking lot, I found my tire had a cut in the sidewall.”
“How unfortunate.”
“Yeah, I called Dad for daughter rescue.”
“I’m sure he was all over it.”
“He was. He changed the tire way faster than I could have.”
“Are you okay otherwise?”
“I’m fine, though I have to buy a new tire this week.” My head leaned against the headrest and then involuntarily rolled to the left for further observation. “When I entered more claims today, I found several SUVs had stolen parts.”
His gaze zeroed in on this statement. “Tell me about it.”
“I bet I found fifty or so claims involve Jeeps with missing parts or stolen ones vehicles. Sorta funny, but not ha-ha funny.”
He bobbed his head. “I get it. What’s next?”
I lengthened my spine. “Out of curiosity, I did a program search in the data entries, running a report which specifically focuses on Jeeps. I printed it, thinking on Monday I’d show it to Lester. Maybe he can make sense of the mess.”
“Sounds like a plan. Any idea what Lester will do?”
“Nope.”
He took a quick peek my way before flipping the turn indicator. “Did he ever call Buy Rite’s internal squad?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked.”
Becoming aware of my surroundings, I sat straighter. Something didn’t look right. The proverbial dawn broke: we weren’t headed to my apartment. We were headed toward his. “Hey, we’re going the wrong way.”
His mouth fashioned a small secretive smile. “I thought we could go to my place.”
“Oh.” I gulped. His place. His man-cave where all kinds of man things could happen. My nerves overtook, making my
hands quake. My body tensed. “I see.”
“I hope you don’t mind. It could be crowded at yours.” His grin deepened.
“And why would you be worried about that?” As if I didn’t know.
He just smiled even bigger.
You gotta love a man with this particular plan.
I think I might.
Chapter Fourteen
A. Wellborn’s fingers laced with mine while we walked to his apartment. Even though I liked his touch, I could barely contain all my jumpy thoughts and nervy emotions. I stood by as he opened the front door, and with a hand set to my waist, he ushered me inside.
Lucky attacked us. I scooped him up and cradled him to my chest, brushing my nose against the top of his in an Eskimo kiss. “Hey, kee-cat. You’re sooo soft.”
A. Wellborn had fulfilled his fatherly duties by responsibly caring for Lucky. His fur felt not only softer, but cleaner from the frequent brushings. I carried him to the couch to play, keeping an eye on A. Wellborn who climbed the loft stairs and disappeared in the bedroom.
Upon his return, I noticed he’d pulled off his coat and tie. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to the elbow, exposing the man hair covering his wrists. The top shirt button had been unfastened. Lordy, I swallowed deeply. He looked so sexy like throw-him-on-the-ground-and-roll-around-like-heathens sexy.
He crossed to the media center and turned on his iPod stuck in a sound dock. A Chris Botti song, one of my favorites, filled the room with its sexy jazzy sound. Arousal instantly covered my body from head-to-toe. Feeling self-conscious, I pressed my nose in the cat’s fur to cover my translucent imaginings.
A. Wellborn stood by the music player all the while silently observing me.
Totally aware, I hoped he thought terrific things about me like the ones I had about him. After a while, he made his way to the sofa and casually sat next to me, setting his arm on top of the sofa cushion.
How does he do that? How can he act so calm, cool, and collected? I felt ready to pop like a balloon, and he seemed so at ease.
“Hey, bud,” he said to Lucky and removed him from my lap.
After a bit of t-l-c, A. Wellborn released our pal to the floor. Scooting closer, he placed his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. His other fingers trailed in slow gradual stages from my neck, along my chest to rest between my breasts, and further along to my waist.
He said, “Now, I can tell you how wonderful you look in the dress.”
My senses jumped a notch higher. Deep inside, I understood what he’d offered. And I wanted what was coming.
I sensed a flush covering my cheeks as I stared at my hands resting in my lap. First, he’d said he liked me in the dress. Later, I looked stunning. And now, now, I looked wonderful, the very words a girl hoped to hear. Nothing would ever sound better. Score one for little black dresses everywhere.
He took my smile as one to proceed with his unspoken intentions. His hand moved caressingly along my arm, to my wrist. Lifting my hand, he kissed my palm tenderly.
Biting my lower lip, I suppressed an immense cry.
His finger turned my head with firm gentleness toward him.
I lifted my gaze slowly to find lust and desire lighting his.
He shifted closer and placed light kisses near the corners of my eyes and pressed more along my temple. He paused and drew back for a moment as he stared.
With warm awareness, I noted he looked at me like I was a beauty contestant.
His mouth dropped to mine and dragged against my lips. His tongue pushed gently, yet firmly, to tangle with mine. My hands circled his shoulders and brought our kiss deeper. Our breathing came faster. Through an inhale, my sigh slipped out.
After a few soft, teasing moments, he broke off, and ever-so-caringly, he eased me back into the couch cushions.
Overwhelming feelings of possession obsessed me. I had to have more of him. Grasping his hair, I pulled him to my mouth as his body slipped on top of me. Our tongues touched and swiped. A pulsing hunger, a needy throb, grew inside my girl parts. A. Wellborn’s right hand passed across my breasts; my nipples tightened to hard knots. I broke away when my back arched in the age-old sexual response.
“Ah,” I murmured. Our hips wriggled closer. His mouth fastened on mine. Eventually, I managed to break the kiss, panting. His lips followed my slanted neck—from my ear, to my throat, and lower to the upper curve of my breasts. They desperately desired his mouth on them.
After more shifting and pressing of our bodies, we became fully aware of male and female parts connecting. He was hard, and I was wet.
My dress had crept up my thighs as my body moved around. He nudged aside the little black dress’ strap to expose a shoulder. His other hand rested on my knee. But it didn’t stay still for long. He slid it under the hem and up the outside of my thigh to finger underneath the elastic of my underwear.
The thudding sensation I experienced grew stronger and stronger, like a bubble close to popping. I cried, “OhmyGod.”
He murmured into my ear, “I’ve waited a long time for you, ever since I can remember.”
Pausing, I wasn’t sure what he meant by “waited a long time” and “ever since I can remember.” But the phrases sounded terribly romantic, something like Cinderella would hear from her Prince. Aware he rested lightly above me, I gazed at his striking face painted with longing. My fingers caressed his cheek.
He bent, his lips nibbling my throat again. His right hand moved and stroked the length of my arm. “Hattie, let’s go upstairs.”
His voice wrapped around me like a favorite blanket my grandmother had made. I didn’t need persuading. I knew he’d planned this rendezvous. And to be totally honest, I’d planned for my own special evening with him. The undeniable sexual attraction mounting between us had convinced me it would only be a matter of time before we ended up in bed. If we were at my place, the outcome would have been the same.
He wanted me.
I wanted him.
Pretty simple.
Standing, A. Wellborn extended his hand and helped me rise. Hand in hand, we climbed the stairs, not speaking, just letting a shared synergy link us. At the top, I looked his way, and without saying a word, sensed he understood. More. In that moment, I knew how much he valued me. And he would comply with thought and tenderness.
His bedroom appeared neat, typical of his fashion. A corner of the gray-and-navy plaid comforter had been thrown back to reveal white sheets. I gave a small, pleased smile as I observed his meticulous effort. A bedside lamp had been dimmed low and the seductive sounds of jazz trumpet floated up into the loft.
His mouth touched the back of my neck, leaving gentle kisses which trailed to my shoulder. I stepped out of my heels. They’d done a good job.
With intentional care, he slowly unzipped the little black dress. A push sent it with a silky swish to pool on the floor.
Suddenly, timid inner feelings—should I? shouldn’t I?—overcame me.
Little-by-little, he turned me to face him. He gasped. “I like pink.”
I liked pink, too.
Sexy undies were way too flamboyant for someone as conservative as me. I kinda liked the idea of days-of-the-week panties, thinking they would be easy to track. However, a special occasion dress deserved special occasion underwear. Jenny had an advantage in knowing the right sales people at Tuckers. She’d presented me a pink lacy bra and matching itty bitty panties for my birthday last year.
When I put on the lacy underthings, I knew exactly what I was doing.
I needed to thank Jenny later.
However, the admiration of the bra seemed short lived as A. Wellborn’s arms reached around my back. I closed my eyes, dropping my forehead to his shoulder and sensed him unsnapping the clasp. When my body straightened, I felt the tickle as the bra disloyally dropped to my wrist. A slight flip of my hand and it landed on the floor.
“Beautiful,” he said in a low sexy voice as his gaze scoured my body.
Again, my breasts ached
for his mouth. My fingers fumbled the buttons of his starched white shirt. After tossing the garment aside, he enveloped me and pulled me closer for more. My hands took in the warmth radiating from his skin, the moisture on his back, the intimacy of his big body. God help me. No feeling was better than the sensation of my man on my naked skin. “What a man.”
He laughed softly. “Thanks.”
Oops. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“Not something I hear every day. I can’t believe you’re in my arms.”
Neither could I and never wanted the moment to end. Our gazes focused on each other as he guided me to the bed and pressed me into its comfort.
He shifted to stretch out next to my side and urged my head to rest on his shoulder. His hand smoothed across my waist.
My hands played across his hard chest lightly covered with crisp, dark hair. Our kisses resumed the intimate exploration of each other.
Taking all my moaning and groaning as an encouraging sign to continue, he rose to his hip, and his mouth located my right nipple, fastened on, and sucked, pulling it taut.
“OhmyGod!” He must have taken my cry as a yes and moved to the left one. In my delight, I called, “Don’t stop.”
Thankfully, he excelled in following directions.
In due course, I opened my eyes to watch his face. I traced a hand the length of his neck and flowed down the span of his arm, stopping to tug slightly on the arm hair. I continued to explore his body, moving to his stomach and then under the pant’s belt, under the undies’ elastic, my fingers tangling in the fluff covering his belly.
He dropped his head.
His groan almost sounded like he was being tortured. “You like?” I asked with a teasing smile, hoping the question sounded seductive.
“Ah...yes.”
So going lower, I repeated the move, and he moaned again. Obviously, he liked what I was doing to him a lot and generously repeated the same moves on me.
“Me...too.” I pushed my heels into the mattress. As the tension inside me ratcheted, my body swung from one hip to the other. Our touching deepened even further. The shimmery emotion escalated, and our kisses became wet, sloppy, hungry, fiery.