Sabra had to remember to close her mouth as Tilar’s new excitement flowed over her. She grasped at its refreshment from her perch in the desert of despair. It had only taken a few hours after the latest legal beatdown for her entire world to collapse. She hoped Tilar had the key to unlock a way out of this.
“I’m listening. Do your thing.”
Tilar’s smile was open and reassuring as she spoke. “This card is the Queen of Swords. I think it’s you. Well, I think all three of these cards are you. The Queen of Swords is all about that tongue of yours. She’s quick-witted, intelligent, spits the truth, and can rub folks the wrong way with her candor. Sound like anyone we know? Hmm?”
“That could be you as much as it’s me.” Sabra had crossed her arms, locking the pillow in, before she could stop herself.
Tilar’s sharp eyes missed nothing as she eyed Sabra’s display of protecting and closing herself off. Sabra gave in and uncrossed her arms when the other woman refused to continue.
Appeased, Tilar spoke up again. “This is about you, though. Own it, Bria.” A smirk rode Tilar’s expression at Sabra’s truth about her own tongue.
“I told you, I was just stating the obvious. I was tired of those bitches stealing my fire, so I did something about it.”
“That you did, which leads us to the next one. It’s the Queen of Wands. Known as the Fiery Queen, she’s all about swift action. She’s the ‘It’s Handled’ card that gets stuff done. I see these cards telling me what you did to get to the Judgement, Tower, and Death situation. You spoke up and activated the law with that copyright notice.”
“That I did. I’m not going to lie. But they were asking for it. I had to send those Cease and Desist letters. They stole my process and tried to say it was theirs from the rip. What else was I supposed to do?”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. I’m just stating what the cards are showing us. That partially explains the next card—the Strength Card.”
“Why is she naked and riding the back of that lion like she’s in a hip-hop video? Why is this card deck full of naked folks?” Sabra couldn’t help the look of judgment that had to be riding her face hard.
“Oh, haha, that’s funny, Bria. I never looked at it like that before. I guess there are quite a few naked people in this particular deck, but I find it’s the best deck for your resonance.”
“You know I haven’t a clue what you mean.”
“Don’t worry, it means this deck is a good fit for you.”
“I hope that the naked folks mean I’ll get some—”
“Don’t even try to finish that. You asked about your life in general. If it’s here, the cards will say so.” Tilar fell silent as she took a moment to re-examine the Strength card. “Hmm, that’s odd.”
Sabra’s voiced boomed in an attempt to shout over the accelerated thumping of her heart. “What’s odd?”
Unfazed by her sudden shout, Tilar picked the Strength card up to investigate. Sabra’s breathing tripped over itself in disbelief.
Stress-induced anxiety had Sabra blurt out, “Ooh, I know you didn’t. Weren’t you the one saying not to touch the cards? Won’t that do bad things to my karma or something?”
“Correct yourself,” Tilar warned in that measured, sophisticated way of hers. “I said you were not to touch my cards.” Tilar locked eyes on her to drive her point home. “As for karma? It is what it is until you do something to clean or change it.” She resumed her stare down of the card and added, “Now, for the last time, hush up, I need silence to see.”
“Hmph,” was the only word Sabra dared let fly as she waited.
“This doesn’t make sense.” Tilar eyed Sabra and tilted her head to the side. “I keep seeing visions of you and a great beast of mythical proportions. You know, like in some fantasy movie?” The woman leaned in to look at the card some more.
There was no way Sabra could form a word now that a Lord of the Rings creature might be involved.
“Ah, yes.” Tilar fingered the card some more. Yeah, that makes so much sense. Right,” she said as if speaking to someone far beyond this realm as she continued to look off into the distance. Once she refocused on the cards and Sabra, Tilar continued, “So, it looks like you’ll need strength not only to make it through this current storm, but you’ll also have a hell of a time with a powerful man. Sabra—real talk— you’ll need to make peace with yourself to be able to interact with him in harmony.”
Sabra almost sent a card flying as she sat up to look at the spread again. “Are you saying I’m going to get a man?”
“Girl, you and that one-track mind need to pay attention! Maybe, but what I am saying with more confidence is that you’ll encounter a man of great power. It will take strength to overcome your fears to deal with him. You’ll need to seriously work on yourself to interact with someone on that level.” Tilar didn’t show one ounce of remorse for the burn she seared onto Sabra’s feelings. Instead, she kept going, unfazed by the heft of her words. “This card here is the Emperor. And this one is the King of Pentacles.”
The five-pointed stars on the King card added to Sabra’s unease. She didn’t know about this Tarot stuff as it was.
“Oh no, I can’t get with no devilment. I don’t do that weird stuff.”
“Hush up. Pentacles is another word for coins or earthly stability. The King of Pentacles is a solid man grounded with wisdom and wealth. He’s the great father who takes care of everyone. The Emperor intensifies that to a man of great authority and maybe even one who is responsible for a lot of people, business, or more.”
“He doesn’t sound so scary, especially if he’s got power like that and I can get on his good side. Any man with money and power is going to have a strong will, right?” Her mind whizzed with ideas of how to exact vengeance on her haters with his help. “Yeah, this guy doesn’t sound bad at all.” Sabra couldn’t help but pay attention to the faint beginnings of excitement canceling out the worry in the pit of her stomach.
“We’ll have to see. All I can say for now is that he’s nobody’s fool or pushover. As for whether this is a new romantic interest, the cards say many things. Like this one.” Tilar pointed to the card with the little girl that was too cute for words holding a cup. “This is the Princess of Cups. She offers or announces that emotional elements of your life are looking up. She can also signify a coming birth of a relationship, love, family, or emotional satisfaction.” Another pause went by, and Tilar nodded as if convinced of something. “Since she appears after the Strength card and the King of Pentacles, it looks favorable that your life is going to be way better than now.”
“Yes! Thank you, Lord! I needed that. Tilar you are the best!”
“Not so fast, Miss Missy. There’s the matter of your outcome card.”
Sabra stopped in mid-dance as she refocused on the sober look spreading across her friend’s face. “What is it?”
“It’s the High Priestess.”
“And?”
“And, she represents hidden knowledge, truth, and secrets. It says that your outcome is hidden and that you’ll need to do the work to find out what she has in store for you. You’ll have to use the power and teaching of the Strength card to forge your future. The High Priestess is exacting in her lessons. Those she deems worthy have wisdom and knowledge far beyond others. I sense that she’s going to test you in new and trying ways. Buckle up and get ready.”
“Why does it have to be another woman sitting in judgment of me?”
“She’s more of a Pope. No, I take that back,” Tilar said grabbing a nearby pad and pen. “She’s the grand teacher, alchemist, and hidden wisdom. Like the Magician, she’s magical in her ways. Having her in your reading is a gift. Hold on as I write down your spread and the keywords to their meanings for you.”
The flicker of hope from a few moments before dimmed only for a second. With all the gloomy news Sabra would have imagined being inconsolable. Instead, she felt relieved and lighter as if a great weight lifted.
&n
bsp; From here on, she would go with the flow and do it gracefully. Her soul ached from all the fighting. Yeah, putting a name on the invisible forces of her life had freed instead of enslaved her.
This insight might be the key to her second chance at getting her life right. Or, not. Time would tell. Part of her wanted Tilar to be wrong while the other part was a mixed jumble of conflicting emotions.
“I’ve got this,” she mumbled.
“What’s that, lovey?” Tilar asked as she handed the written note to her.
By her change in tone, Sabra could tell Tilar was back to her usual self.
“Oh, nothing. You caught me talking to myself is all.”
“That’s a sign of great intelligence. I’m impressed by how well you took the reading. Know that if you need anything that I didn’t pick up intuitively, please let me know and I’ll be there to help.”
“Thank you.” Sabra’s entire body succumbed to the onslaught of love coming from Tilar. That woman was a rock for so many. There was no way she’d add to Tilar’s emotional support load. Instead, she willed herself to project strength and smiled. “I appreciate you for doing this on such short notice. Give me your payment ID so I can pay for my session with you.”
Both women stood.
“No, lovey, this one is on the house. Something tells me you’ll need to keep as much liquid cash on hand as possible.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin my spiritual lifeline privileges. I’m happy to pay.”
“I didn’t stutter. I’m sure. But I do need to get back to work. I have this man who has been persistent in trying to set up an in-person appointment with me that I need to deal with. He needs to know my no is final.”
“Since when are you turning down potential clients?”
“I’m not, but I have a feeling he’s not my client.”
Sabra didn’t call attention to how Tilar’s body language shifted. There were way more intriguing story details to be unpacked about this guy. From what she could tell, and she was not intuitive in the least bit, Tilar seemed drawn to him in some way. She never discussed other clients. Added to that was the fact that her friend hadn’t been this animated about a man in a while.
Wisdom won out.
Sabra kept her notions to herself and let the insight drop—for now. Time would tell if there was anything to the man mysterious enough for Tilar to have to “deal” with.
“Well, I trust your gut. It’s always been golden with me. Shut him down but not too hard. You never know what could lead from this. Maybe he’s trying to get you connected with other clients.”
“You know I only work on word-of-mouth. He didn’t come through that process, so he’s not my client.”
“Just like you, Tilar. One of these days your rigid rules are going to turn on you.”
“Maybe, but until then, this is my business, and I’ll run it the way I want to.”
“Amen!” Sabra never quite knew all the areas of work Tilar provided, but she was sure the woman was great at them all. Her phone rang cutting into the shared sisterhood moment. “Oh, I have to take this.” She smiled as Tilar leaned in for a goodbye hug.
After the reading, her world seemed more orderly. Sabra’s steps grew easier as she turned to leave. Once done and heading out the door, she answered with renewed strength, “Yes, this is the Doll Hair Whisperer, how may I help you?”
2
Bria
Three months later…
.
Unable to decipher if the surroundings were light or dark, where they were, or who this advancing figure was, Sabra’s senses defied logic to stay calm and open to whatever happened.
The responsible adult—aka boring—part of her mind went offline. Trifles like cares, reasoning, logic, and etiquette slid away and were left behind. To her surprise, Sabra embraced the anomaly and snubbed her usual wariness to enjoy the ride.
Before her stood a man, who continued to manifest as if going through a downloading process. What she could already make out was that he was overtly interested in her—indicated by his movements and demeanor. The atmosphere popped and sizzled with sensual interest as she took in his not quite clear yet visage.
Who are you?
Not sure how she knew, but Sabra had no doubt he was incredibly handsome.
Steady yourself and don’t screw this up, she found herself making the internal warning as she continued to watch the spectacle unfold.
More of his details began to define themselves. She liked what the results revealed. Loose waves of deliberately defined dark hair crowned the Adonis’s head.
He didn’t flinch as his form appeared to take all her in. Primal and proactive, his essence encouraged wild abandon and wanton lust to have their day. Her base nature lurched forward to bask in the radiance of unbridled sensual proclivities she’d always starved and ignored.
Whether she wore clothes or not was a mystery, Sabra couldn’t care less than half a rat’s tail about at the moment. As the idea formed of being naked, a stronger sentiment of not giving a shit squashed it.
This thing between them, right here, wasn’t a beauty pageant for her to be judged and scored. All traces of pageant piety were exiled and banished from any and all parts of her being.
He was no pageant judge with the way he acted toward her and Sabra for sure as sugar wasn’t a contestant trying to act pure and perfect. She was a woman in need of sexual attention and affection. This man was here, and she was ready. Heck, yeah, she was going to shoot her shot!
If only she could settle on the detailed features of his face, Sabra would focus on transmitting her intentions to his eyes.
Towering over her, his presence offered a promise of as much protection as it did pleasure. The man claimed her complete appreciation and admiration.
He crossed the barrier of intimate proximity to hover within a hair’s breadth of her body. His closeness emitted both a message of intimacy and a heat that penetrated her heart. He wanted her touch. Sabra’s hand reached up. He leaned in and down as she began an expedition of his offering.
A smattering of sensations erupted and sizzled as he nuzzled her neck. She visualized coarse facial hair as he rutted about and caressed the sensitive skin beneath her jawline with his warm lips and stubbled chin hairs. Sabra sunk deeper into the cocoon of protection this man erected around them.
There was nothing like being in the strong arms of a man able to fend off every foe. This notion of his ability to protect her was her perceived impression of how that would be since no man had ever done that for her.
Shaking off the naysaying inner thoughts, Sabra allowed herself to enjoy the immersive experience of her flawlessly hair-endowed hunk of a man.
Alternating between his thick mane and lush beard, her giggle of delight shocked her for how girly it sounded. Sabra had always equated masculine strength with a full beard. Her love of bearded men didn’t make sense, and it didn’t have to. This was her perfect man, and she’d enjoy the idea that he hosted a full manly beard.
Another scruffy nuzzle, and she wanted to fall into him whole never to separate herself from his perfection again.
Spatially, nothing made sense. Their vast height difference should make it hard to align their bodies, yet she had full access to him. Were they standing or supine? Again, logically nothing made sense. Who was he and why was he so into her? That question Sabra pushed aside deciding it was better to enjoy him before he realized she wasn’t the one he must think her to be.
There was a familiarity between them that she couldn’t explain, though. Had they been together before? Her mental musings ceased as soft tufts of voluminous locks greeted her fingertips.
Sabra’s nimble fingers traipsed an intrepid path through his dark mane with confident exploration. His hair, dark and luxurious in its striking appearance, produced a yearning in her to take more. She whimpered in pleasure as the sable mane enveloped her roaming fingers’ inquiry.
All her training as a professional hair stylist d
idn’t prepare Sabra. The enchanted hair spell wove itself around her as sentient strands of hair responded to her caress in perfect obedience.
The alluring incense that accompanied the closeness of his presence disbanded any competing influences on her attention. She succumbed to a greater impulse.
An invisible cloak of a pheromone-infused, testosterone driven, scent cocktail swathed Sabra in protection and comfort. The cornucopia of decadent masculine olfactory delights overrode her tactile explorations. Her fingers ceased their movement as her senses diverted all attention to capturing his scent. Sabra’s highly attuned sense of smell embraced the pursuit with vigor.
She needed more—more.
Sabra released more guarded layers and allowed herself to be engulfed into the magnetic attraction she had for her mysterious companion. An aromatic mix too exquisitely balanced to decipher individual notes beckoned her to draw close. The resulting pheromonal effect rendered her incapable of denying him any part of her.
A brushed thigh, gently but fleeting caress of her torso and a hover of warm lips close to hers did little to assuage her need for his body against hers. Cotton candy held more substance than the gossamer-light touches of their entwined forms. Her yearning strained to connect and consummate their union. Sabra’s body shuddered under the press of need and longing.
His presence was real and phantom alike. Like vapors and mist, fulfillment evaded her grasp. No matter how hard she tried, wished, or pleaded, complete satisfaction always eluded her. He was the stranger she longed to never leave.
Never able to get a good look or impression of her intimate partner, Sabra strained and yearned for his attention, touch, and emotional connection. Her current encounter sent subconscious messages that it was like others before.
How?
Sabra’s body shuddered at the potential ecstasy that seemed imminent but always teased and taunted. Robust and testosterone filled, his musk calibrated itself to elicit the most arousal and interest. Involuntary reactions played with her sensory-connected emotions in perfected mastery.
Dragon’s Curvy Patient Page 2
