One Night With You
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“It’s…Oh, I don’t know.”
“Turn around here.” His hands gripped her shoulders, but they turned her gently. “Come here.”
His grayish-brown eyes had become thunderheads heralding what she knew would be a violent storm. She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, but at that moment she wanted him. He pulled her close and lowered his head so slowly that she reached up and with her hand at his nape, guided his mouth to hers. His lips trembled as they crushed hers. His groans sent shivers throughout her body, sending her blood rushing to her vagina, exciting her, and when he rimmed the seam of her lips with his tongue, she opened her mouth and sucked him into her, pulling on him, sucking and feasting. Her nerve ends seemed afire. If only she could crawl into him. The heat in her vagina rose with the seconds, and something akin to an itch demanded friction. Oh, how she wanted him skin to skin, his chest to her breasts, and his penis buried deep inside her. She pulled his tongue and sucked it vigorously until he suddenly pushed her away.
As if he feared that he may have hurt her feelings, he brought her back to his embrace, but didn’t let his body touch hers. “I’ve been celibate for a long time, Kendra, and if anything ever happens between you and me, I want to be sure of the reason.”
She wanted to tell him that nothing would happen between them, but after what she’d felt seconds earlier in his arms, she didn’t believe it and she didn’t feel like lying.
Instead she said, “I could say the same, Reid. Take care of that potato for me, will you?” He didn’t move, so she glanced at him.
“Have I…Are you…Is everything all right with you and me?” he asked her.
She faced him. “Yes. You’re straight with me. Now we know where we stand.”
He didn’t bat an eyelash. “We always knew, Kendra. Now we have to deal with it. Is that blue thing the microwave oven?”
She couldn’t help laughing. He’d put demon desire in its proper place and expected that she would do the same. “Yes, that’s it, and I’d be happy if it was any other color.” Their simultaneous laughter cleared the air.
“You could grow on me,” he said, and turned the kitchen chair around and straddled it.
“What does that mean?”
“Come now, Kendra.”
“Reid, talking with you is like taking a true and false test. You don’t explain anything unless I pull it out of you.”
“When I was in my twenties, I didn’t appreciate your type of woman. Accomplished, cut and dried. What you see is what you get, and if you don’t like it, keep moving. You’re as straight as the crow flies and beautiful to boot.”
“And I assume that means you like women who are honest.”
A smile formed around his eyes, and she looked the other way. Did that man know how attractive he was? “Right. And beautiful. Don’t leave that out,” he said.
She liked his sense of humor, and she was beginning to like him. “How do you like your burger? Medium or well done?”
“Well done. May I watch you mix it up?”
She agreed, and he stood beside her while she added the eggs, onions and seasoning to the ground beef, made three large patties, put a small amount of oil in the frying pan and set the meat to cooking. “That’s reasonable,” he said. “You put in them what we usually put on them after they’re cooked.” She turned on the microwave oven, raised the steam level under the asparagus, took the bowl of salad out of the refrigerator and put it on the table.
“That didn’t take long, and you got everything ready at the same time. That’s a trick.”
“I did the work before you got here, but took about fifteen minutes.”
“Say, wait a minute,” he said. “Don’t put that food in serving dishes. I can serve myself right from the pots and pans. Remember, I’m the one who’s cleaning up.”
“But—”
“But nothing. If I’m cleaning up, what I say goes.”
She handed him a plate. “Two of those burgers are yours. I can only eat one. I’ll peel the potatoes.”
“You can peel yours. I eat the skin. All I need for this potato is some butter and black pepper.”
“Butter is not good for you,” she said, “so you’re getting a substitute that tastes like butter and has no trans fats.”
The expression on his face was that of one thwarted in the course of a satisfying act. “But—”
“But, as your hostess, I have the responsibility to protect your arteries, and that’s what I intend to do.”
He filled his plate and headed for the dining room. “I don’t suppose I can argue with that. What did you do with the wine?”
It dawned on her that he behaved almost as if they had known each other for a long time, and save for the minutes she’d spent in his arms, she felt about the same. Or maybe he didn’t put on airs. After she said grace, he opened the wine, tasted it and poured half a glass for her. “I hope you like it. Say, why don’t we drink to…” He got up and walked over to her, hooked his right arm through hers and said, “Let’s drink to us. What will be, will be.” He sipped the wine as he gazed into her eyes. “You like it?”
“What?” she asked him, thoroughly discombobulated. “Oh, you mean the wine. Stop knocking me off balance. I never did that before. I love this wine.”
He returned to his seat and his meal. “This is the first wine I’ve purchased in almost seven years. Philip always provided wine for the help on weekends, but not during the week. He didn’t allow any alcohol on the estate except in his house, and I soon got out of the habit of washing my dinner down with the best wine I could find.”
“I’m learning that you were very wealthy.”
“I was, and if I ever get back there, I’m going to live differently. I’m going to keep the friends I’ve made during the last six years, people who care about me, not people who loved what I could do for them.”
“Did any of them stick with you?”
“Naah. It’s like Billie Holiday said in that song. ‘Money, you got lots of friends hanging ’round your door, but when the spending ends, they don’t come ’round no more.’”
“I’ve never had a lot of it,” she said, “so I don’t know, but I’m not surprised.”