by Taras Ford
“Why are you sore?”
She shrugged. “Too long a walk home. Just tired is all.”
Trish plopped down on the sofa and turned on the TV. Portia sat next to her, telling her all the things she would have to do at the go-see. Sydney left the room and lay across her bed. She closed her eyes, and replayed their kisses. She could feel his hands again, and smell his sweat mixed with cologne. She may have told the man no, but she was not prepared to let go of the fantasy. Not just yet.
Nolen’s limo pulled up to the curb. Sydney mentioned the club in passing, but he’d caught the name. He spent the rest of the day resisting the urge to call her, and when it became too strong, he gave in. Looking through the tinted window, he stared at the line in front of the little club. He lowered the partition. “I won’t be long. Park somewhere discreet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nolen stepped out of the limo. He looked out of place in the midst of all the casually dressed partygoers.
He walked past them all to the front of the line.
“Get your ass in line, pal!” the bouncer snapped.
Nolen slipped the three-hundred pound bouncer five crisp hundred dollar bills. The man accepted them with a nod, then eased them into his pocket. He unhooked the purple velvet rope and Nolen walked inside the dimly lit club without being searched. The band played a loud urban tune that half the patrons were dancing to.
A pretty Latina was singing and dancing around in a salsa like spin. Scanning the room for Sydney, he saw women and men of all races laughing and drinking together. After a few minutes, he spotted her, dressed in blue jeans and a low-cut red blouse. She was dancing with a young stranger with long dreadlocks.
Nolen stepped through the crowd, he watched as she turned her back to her partner, swaying her hips from side to side, then rolled her stomach like a belly dancer. Her long hair covered her face as her partner traced the sweet curve of her hips with his flattened palms, pushing against her.
Nolen felt his gut churn at the sight of another man touching her. Sydney turned in the man’s arms and placed hers around his neck. The stranger slid his hands across her rump, pushing her against him and trying to kiss her, but she pushed him back, shaking her head no. Nolen couldn’t hear what they said to each other, but he suspected it wasn’t what the man wanted to hear.
Sydney pushed past the man, who followed her off the dance floor. Nolen saw them disappear and moved through the crowd to find them. They had stopped near the bar, and he watched as the man made his plea. Sydney dropped her head, but the guy forced her face back up. When this stranger moved in to kiss her again, she pushed him away, shouting at him. The man looked pained by her rejection, and she touched his arm as if to comfort him. Watching them, Nolen felt both angry and confused.
“Whatchu drinking?” a short, dark-skinned waitress with neatly cropped hair asked him, smiling.
“Who is that man?” Nolen asked, pointing through the crowd.
The waitress turned around to look at the partygoers. “Which man?”
“The one up against the bar in the green shirt.”
“Oh, that’s Ricky. He’s part-owner of the bar.”
Nolen nodded, recalling the name. “Who’s the other owner?”
“Syl. Over there, behind the bar.” The waitress pointed at a dark-haired Italian counting out money from the register.
“Thanks.”
“What about the drink?”
Shaking his head, he watched her move on to the next patron.
Sydney hugged Ricky now, kissing him on the cheek. He released her when the band stopped playing, raced up to the stage, and grabbed the mic as Sydney worked her way to the side of the stage.
“Good evening, folks!” he said, and Nolen thought he detected a Caribbean accent. “Give it up for Mercedes!” Everybody clapped and cheered, and Ricky waved his hand in the air to silence them. “Tonight we have a special treat for you. Our girl Sydney is going to give us something she wrote for my band.” The applause rose again, and Nolen, intrigued, joined in. She’d said that they really didn’t know each other. He had to admit she was right. Sydney walked up to the microphone.
“How’s everybody feeling tonight?”
The girls cheered her. Nolen saw her roommates sitting close to the side of the stage. Sydney shook her head with sass. Tonight her thick hair was wild and free, a cloud of auburn curls that hung in her eyes and bounced on her shoulders. She was exotic, beautiful, the most captivating woman in the room. “Ladies, I’m talking to you. It’s about your guy. You know that guy. He whispers, you melt, he disappoints you, and you cry.
The one that can twist your insides with a single touch,” she said, grinning when women from the dance floor cheered and waved her on. “Ok, you ready? ’Cause school is open ladies, I’ll tell you how to handle him,” Sydney glanced over to Ricky and winked.
Nolen leaned against the wall, staring at her.
Sydney waited for the band to bring up the tempo. Holding the microphone, she hummed the chorus with a light sway of her hips. She opened her eyes, and as she started the song, her gaze collided with his from across the room where he stood at the back of the club. He boldly held that stare, drawing her and her song directly to him. And the song was more than fitting. It told of the decadence a new love could bring. Her sweet yet soulful voice was powerfully erotic in its delivery.
The crowd beneath her swayed as one, caught up in the rapture, everyone captivated as if under her spell. Nolen remained motionless, a vaguely sensuous light passed between them. The prolonged anticipation of actually having her was becoming increasingly unbearable for him.
Then the song ended. There seemed to be a collective sigh across the audience, then an explosion of cheers and clapping. Nolen rose from the wall and joined in the praise with a sly smile, but was soon disappointed when Ricky came up behind her, scooping her into his arms and kissing her neck.
Pushing free of Ricky, Sydney turned back to the crowd. She didn’t see him. She hurried down the stage steps. She had to shove her way through the partygoers who continued to shower her with praise. Behind her, she heard Ricky speaking into the mic as the band called for the next singer, but she didn’t catch his words. Her heart was like thunder in her chest. Why did he come? Where did he go?
“Did you save the last dance for me?” his voice asked in her ear. She stopped with him behind her.
“I thought you left,” she answered.
The palm of his hand went under hers, and their fingers intertwined, she turned to look him in the eye.
He came for her? Overdressed, and as intense as ever, she felt like the only girl in the room looking into his face.
Nolen led her back into the crowd she had hoped to escape. A saxophone solo accompanied by a jazz singer filled the air. The dark, florescent blue lighting of the club only charged her desire for him. Sydney didn’t bother to look up to see whether Ricky was watching. She stared at Nolen’s tall frame, following his lead. Nolen turned and pulled her into him. He slipped his arm around her waist and held her firm.
With both hands on his broad shoulders, she lifted her head and her gaze. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said in a voice barely audible over the band. “But I intend to find out.” Sydney worked her hips against him. From that point on they didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. But his cologne and nearness rendered her powerless to resist. When would he be satisfied, and how much would she lose in the process?
Nolen turned her in time with the music with such a fluid move that she barely noticed until his arm again closed across the front of her. With his forearm pressed into her breasts, she was now up against the solid planes of his chest. He commanded her body and drove his desire for her with his movements as he worked her from behind. Her lids fluttered and closed, her head tilted back with a submissive sigh. Nolen rubbed his neatly shaven jaw against her cheek. The songbird on stage told of the dangers of lust, and their dance war
ned that she might be right. But for Sydney, in that very moment, there just was nothing like his touch.
“Come home with me,” he whispered in her ear, then traced the moist tip of his tongue along the outer curve.
Slowly her eyes opened. With heavy, barely parted lids, she focused on the stage. Ricky blew in his horn, but met her stare with a questioning one of his own. She would never forget the hurt look of betrayal in his eyes.
It threw cold water over the flames of her desire, and Sydney snapped out of his seduction and broke free. “Ah, sorry, um, excuse me,” she said, rushing off the dance floor.
Trish and Portia were laughing over drinks, seated at a corner table. “I think I'm going to go,” Sydney said.
“What?” Portia frowned, stirring her drink. “Go?”
“Something wrong?” Trish asked, sitting upright.
“No. I’ll take a cab. You two have fun."
“I'll come with you,” Trish said, rising.
“Stay, Trish. I just . . . here.” She gave her some money. “Have some drinks. Have some fun. I just want to go.” She hurried off before they could stop her.
She needed air. What was she doing? Her mind screamed at her to come to her senses, but her body was betraying her. When she emerged through the crowded club out its door, she saw him. He was headed toward the waiting limo. She bit her lip. She considered him long and hard. Then she hurried out into the street. “Wait.
Nolen, wait!”
The driver heard her. He looked up just as Nolen eased inside. Sydney sprinted the rest of the way. He stepped aside and tipped his head to her. She climbed into the limo and the chilly greeting she received clued her in. Nolen had heard her too. He just didn't want to see her.
“Go back to your friends,” he said.
“I . . . no. I think I want to go with you.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“I'm in no mood for your games. You made it clear that you aren't interested. So get out.” He stared at her for a long moment. Was it a test? It felt like one. She sighed deeply.
“I'm glad you’re here tonight, Nolen. I wanted to see you.”
His glare burned through her. It was so intense. “Drive,” he ordered the chauffeur, then raised the partition. Sydney swallowed her anxiety and rubbed her palms over her thighs. The limo drove through the darkened New York streets. Eventually she was bold enough to look over at Nolen. He avoided her by staring out the window. This was the first time she'd seen him unsure of himself.
“Why did you come to the club tonight?” she asked.
“For you,” he said dryly.
“I gather that.” She chuckled and his head turned. There was no humor in his eyes when they met with hers. “I mean, it doesn't look like your scene.”
“I thought about what you said. Wanting a man who could offer you what you gave in return.”
“And?”
“Maybe we can work something out,” he said.
“That's it?” She frowned.
“What else do you want me to say?”
“Something genuine.”
He looked away again, to the city lights zipping past his window. “That's hard.”
“Talking to me is hard?”
“Trust is hard.” Nolen mumbled.
She touched his hand. “Why?”
“I can't lose—” The words stalled in his throat. “I can't lose myself, Sydney. I came close to losing myself once before, and I won't go back there.”
She studied him. His face flushed, his jaw clenched tightly. She wanted to see his eyes, but he refused to look at her. Moving closer, she decided that if she were to thaw his icy heart, she'd have to take the initiative.
She kissed his cheek. Slowly his eyes closed and she drew away.
“Look at me,” she turned his face to hers. “Falling in love is about so much more than losing control.. I don't believe we're meant to be alone. The test of life is getting through all the crap to discover that person who makes it all worthwhile.”
Nolen stared a moment longer, then touched her face. He possessed a maddening hint of arrogance about him. He didn't fool her. Beneath the cool exterior of his expensive suit and polished charm existed a man worth the risk in knowing.
“What is it about you that makes you so damn irresistible to me?” he asked, the smoldering flame in his eyes turned her on. She opened her mouth to speak and nothing escaped. His nearness made her senses spin.
Sydney deliberately shut out all awareness of him and closed her eyes. She needed to remain in control.
Things would only progress as far as she wanted. After all they were in the back of his limo. What danger could she really be in? Nolen pulled her close and lowered her on the seat, and she knew the answer. She didn’t resist his possessive nature; she encouraged it by scooting down beneath him and parting her legs. He brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. His body covered her and he balanced the weight with one knee bent to the floor of the limo. Her calm was shattered within the hunger of their first kiss of the night. All her inhibitions slipped away. He dropped his mouth over hers, devouring her soft pleasure filled moans. He smothered her lips with demanding mastery. There was a dreamy intimacy to his actions now.
Nolen’s hand went under her blouse and the heat of his palm on her bare skin was electrifying. The calloused surface grazed upward and the tips of his fingers pushed up the cup of her bra. Soon her entire breast was in his hand, his thumb moving in slow circular motions around her tightening nipple. She wore her leather jacket so his access was limited and her arms stiff as she tried to hold on to the seat and him. Suddenly the back of the limo was unbearably hot and she wanted to shed all of her clothes. A sharp tingle cut through her breasts when he began to pinch and tug on the sensitive nipple.
“Mmm, you like that?” He asked.
"Nolen . . ." She moaned into his mouth.
His head lifted and he froze. Sydney’s chest rose and fell as she quickly sucked down much needed air.
Her hair was in her face but her arms were pinned down so she couldn’t move the locks to see him. “Slow down,” she half-joked.
“Who is Ricky to you?” he asked.
Sydney’s throat went dry and her words came out harsh and rushed. “My friend. I mean we were close like, um, dating, but we're friends now. Just friends.”
“Is he why you push me away?” he asked, lifting off her and swiping his hand through his now disheveled hair. "Are you in love with him?"
“I love him, but I'm not in love with him.” She lifted on her elbow, breast exposed and her knees parted.
He stared at her as if she was lying. What did he think, that she'd run to his limo and whatever waited for them at the end of their destination if she was in love with another man? “It's over between me and Ricky.”
“I don't have a right to question you,” he said, fixing his suit and putting that cold mask of scorn back on his face.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked.
“I told you I don't take risks. I don't want to be hurt,” he mumbled.
“Well news flash, you aren't the only one who could get hurt here! Stop treating me like I'm a threat.”
“I don't see you as a threat.” He frowned.
“You know what I think?” she snapped.
He arched a brow. She had half a mind to make the driver stop the limo, but not until she had her say. “I think that if I was just another piece of tail, you would take me to bed and make me feel like the only woman in the world. But the moment you have to be real and feel with your heart and not your dick or wallet, you don't know how to use it.”
His lips drew tight and his eyes narrowed on her. “Don't speak to me like that.”
“Why not? Why not! I'm falling for you. And it's sudden, risky, and probably a big mistake, but I'm here.
Where are you? Trapped in your head, blaming me for something that happened to you before we ever laid eyes on each
other.” Her throat went dry, and her face turned a deep shade of red. “Say something! Say something or stop the damn limo now and leave me alone.”
“I don't take well to threats.”
“Stop the limo!” she shouted at the driver, fixing herself and her clothes.
He grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”
“What? Wait for what? How do you feel about me? Your feelings inside, what are they? Do you want sex? Is that it? What?”
“I feel, well, I mean . . .”
She waited. Nothing came. Sydney tried to pull her wrist from his grip, but he pulled her over to him. “I want to know you, Sydney. All of you, and I feel like, if I do, then maybe, maybe you'll know why I can't stop thinking about you. What makes me who I am.”
She saw the sincerity in his eyes and heard it in his voice. Slowly, she smiled, trusting in what he said and believing in how he made her feel. Leaning forward, he kissed her softly this time and placed his forehead against hers.
“Promise to be patient with me, Sydney, and you won't be sorry.”
“I can try.”
He pressed another gentle kiss to her lips. His face drew back. They stared into each other’s eyes. “You know what I've wanted to do for so long?” he asked.
“I got a pretty good idea.” She shrugged off her jacket and lowered herself back on the seat. He came with her, drawing her blouse up to her neck. A look of raw desire spread over his face as he stared at her breasts.
She looked down the line of her body at her bosom in its black, lacy cups.
Nolen shifted and she braced for him to touch her, but he reached over her head to the intercom button.
“Charles, a ride through Central Park until I say otherwise.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Adams.”
Nolen then turned up the music. Sydney swallowed another knot of nerves in her throat. He traced the line from her collarbone to the center of her chest, and released the front clasp to her bra. Sydney let loose a little gasp of excitement. She liked his fascination with her body, and wanted to see his as well. Men were fascinated with her breasts. She hadn’t gone the distance with Ricky, but heavy make out sessions always ended with his mouth swallowing her nipple and his hand on her pussy. She knew why. Before her breasts fully developed her nipples had formed and even now were oversized on her dark areolas. They were the reason she chose padding in her bras. Now exposed and having been rubbed up against his hard chest, they bloomed and swelled to a painful erection. If he didn’t touch them or lick them soon, she would have to herself. With her left leg pinned to the seat and her right leg thrown over his lap, her thighs splayed apart, it was thrilling to be like this with this man she barely knew.
