for her and they slid inside. After a bit of small talk with the driver, they were on their way. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her near, placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Ocean,” he whispered.
“Eleven…”
“Like the movie?”
“Yes. My turn. Art.”
“Deviant.”
The woman’s brow rose.
“That’s my nickname around here. ‘The Deviant Artist’…”
CHAPTER FOUR
Spell Casting
Suri placed her key in her apartment door lock, then paused. Her warped reflection showed in the oval brass door handle and knob, and so did the towering dark figure behind her. He reminded her of the Grim Reaper. Head slightly bowed with his jacket hood covering his face as he looked at his phone screen. Strands of black hair falling over his right eye. She took a deep breath, unlocked the door—the sound almost jarring—then pushed it open. A strong scent assailed her nostrils. Ahhh yes, pesto… Pesto angel hair pasta—what she’d had for dinner before heading out to the club.
The man’s scent began to mingle with the flavors in the air. His energy was addictive. King exuded rivers of confidence, a profound presence, and mountains of mystery.
“Come on inside,” she said. She closed the door behind him and engaged both locks, then the deadbolt. Removing her heels, she placed them underneath a small foyer table on top of which sat an artificial mini cherry tree plant.
“Smells good in here. Like Italian food.” He maneuvered out of his jacket and looked around.
He’s got a good eye and a good nose, apparently.
“Yes, it was. I ate before I headed out this evening.” She hung his jacket on a hook by the front door and when she went to remove her own coat, she felt strong, yet gentle, hands helping her out of it. “Thank you.”
I wonder if he’s hungry? I have leftovers, but if I offer them, what will he think I want from him? More than a lay? No need to risk that.
They hadn’t talked a lot on the way over. The memory of the make-out session in the car made her body tingle still. They’d shared kisses people offered in the night, behind closed doors, whispered about over the phone, started to text about but then deleted before sending. The kind that made you feel like you were somewhere else, spinning out of control, and didn’t even quite feel yourself when the man of your lascivious dreams finally turned you loose.
King’s lips had been soft and warm, and his kisses intense and all-encompassing. Everything about him seemed larger than life, yet he held a subtleness about him like she’d never seen. He wasn’t loud and pushy. In fact, he radiated confidence and appeared quite comfortable in his own skin. And his kiss gave all of this away.
She could still feel the heat from his mouth on hers, and she wanted more of it.
“You live in a nice part of town,” he said, breaking her out of her deliberations. Perhaps she was stealing time… dragging it out.
“Yeah, it’s nice here.”
“You said that you just moved in, right? I can tell.” He cracked his knuckles.
“How?”
“I can smell the fresh paint.” He smiled, and it was magic. She smiled back as she made her way into the taupe and ivory tiled kitchenette and retrieved a bottle of chilled water from the refrigerator.
“Would you like one?”
He nodded. She handed him a bottle, then turned on some music and led him over to the couch in her living room to have a seat. Thank goodness I vacuumed earlier today. I had no idea I would be having company.
They sat down, side by side just when Jaguar Wright’s version of ‘Love, Need and Want You’ started to play. After taking a swallow, she set down her water on the gray and white coffee table, which was covered with an assortment of old medical periodicals preserved in clear jackets and spread out like fans. She leaned forward and lit an orange and mint scented candle.
They sneaked glances and smiles and quiet laughter, an odd yet comforting thing. By now, she’d expected to be naked, but he was biding his time. Again, she was mystified by him. She looked into his eyes at that moment and something struck her in them—a certain purity that flashed in their depths for the briefest of moments. Her pussy flowed like a river, the moisture sticking to her thighs.
“If you don’t mind me asking, I have a question.” He set down his satchel, untied his boots and slid them off, leaving his feet in white socks.