by Kojo Black
Would he like her offering of food in exchange for his attentions? She chose the ripest and freshest lychees that she peeled and pitted herself. The taste of the delectable little round white fruits reminded her of Moët and Chandon, a fitting treat for so exotic a man. As she stirred her salad, bits of white dragon fruit with their small, dark spotted seeds caught her eye. The pear-like taste of dragon fruit mixed well with the champagne quality of the lychees. The purple liquid she poured from her vial of magic gave the salad a touch of peppermint. Would her gift impress Tibor? Did she really want to impress him? Why not simply enjoy his company?
Sierra lacked the confidence to believe she could attract Tibor of her own accord, so she allowed her magic to do the heavy lifting. Amber resin incense burned on her living room coffee table in the center of an amethyst crystal she set aside specifically for this occasion, its warm scent promising hours of romance. She dipped six taper candles in rose oil and set them out on her dining room table, blowing on each wick until the flame sparked to life. Rose oil encouraged love and lust, and she craved both. She had read her tarot earlier but the message of the cards had been confusing and elusive. Sierra was never very good at predicting her own future.
She inspected herself in the large mirror overlooking her couch. How did she look? At 35 years of age, she had settled comfortably into her body. Her chestnut brown hair behaved itself for a change. It fell in waves to her waist. Despite the approaching storm, it did not frizz. The royal blue cotton sweater and skirt couldn’t prevent her from shivering, although she was not cold. In her nervousness, she hoped Tibor would admire her outfit as she knew she would be swept away by his elegant choice of clothing. Although he appeared to be in his late 40s, he seemed ageless. The man pulled off his classic look with elegance. She stood sideways and inspected her small frame. She did not consider herself to be especially glamorous, but overall she liked her shape. She was neither too fat nor too thin. She was just right.
At five p.m. sharp, there was a knock at her door. Her heart jumped to her throat. What would she say? Would she stumble as she greeted him? Would she say something bone-headed and cringe at her own words? She swallowed hard, walked to the door, and opened it.
Tibor stood before her, or, rather, a bouquet of red and pink roses poked their blushing faces at her as Tibor peeked from behind them with a wicked grin on his handsome face. He had trimmed his stubble without shaving it off, a look that made Sierra’s mouth water. On any other man it would look like unkempt five o’clock shadow. Tibor made it look rugged and wild. His blue-gray eyes flashed the color of the churning Atlantic, reflecting the urgency she felt in her breast. He held a bottle of champagne and a cloth bag in his other hand. She wondered if he was as anxious as she was over their first intimate meeting, but he didn’t seem to have a nervous bone in his body. Tibor was always at ease. His affable nature relaxed Sierra’s quaking resolve, and she felt the tension leave her body a little at a time.
“Good evening, Sierra. You look lovely. That shade of blue becomes you,” he said. So Tibor did notice her outfit. Why should she expect anything different? His attentiveness attracted her as much as his virile good looks. She stood aside to allow him into her home. “You live in a beautiful location.”
“That’s the reason I chose to live in this beach house. My mother left it to me in her will after she died five years ago. You can’t beat the view. I can go to the beach any time I wish.” She took the flowers, and headed for her kitchen to find a vase.
“How old is the house? It looks like something out of a mystery novel.”
“It does have that Daphne du Maurier look, doesn’t it? It was built in 1930, as a beach house for doctors who lived further inland. My grandfather was a surgeon.” She smiled at him and breathed deeply, wishing away a flush that warmed her cheeks. “Thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful. I love roses. I rarely get them.”
“I wanted to give you a special gift for our first meeting. We’ve spent so much time chatting over oranges and raspberries that we’ve never met outside the fruit aisle. It’s a pleasure to be with you. The dinner is still warm, but you might want to heat it up in the oven for a little while.”
He smelled of dreams and promises amid cedar and cinnamon, making her heart race. His fingers brushed hers as she grabbed the bag, and his touch sent electric sparks up her arm. Before she could dwell too much on her nervousness, she took the bag from him and pulled out two foil-wrapped baking dishes. They were warm to the touch, but they didn’t burn her fingers.
Thunder sounded in the distance. Tibor’s presence seemed to encourage the turbulent ocean. She practiced magic and made the most of her gifts, especially this evening, but Tibor possessed an earthy magic of his own. Her heart danced and her breath caught in her throat at his mere presence.
She turned her oven to 200º and placed the dishes inside. Moving quickly, so as to fully enjoy his company without any distractions, she grabbed a vase, filled it with water, and placed the roses inside. She set the vase on the kitchen counter, admiring how the blush from the roses enhanced the purple crackle glaze of the vessel.
Once she took his camelhair coat and hung it in her closet, she invited him to sit on her couch alongside her. Clannad played in the background, but the gentle Celtic music didn’t drive the electricity from the air. Skin tingling with excitement, she sat as stiff as a soldier waiting for a bomb to drop. Legs pressed together and hands clenched in her lap, she allowed a little distance between the two of them. Tibor, ever the gentleman, kept to his side of the couch. He held up the bottle.
“A little champagne? I hope you like Moët.” His serene attitude reflected in his languid pose. He looked much more relaxed than she felt. He also looked so delicious she fought hard to keep from touching him. He wore a cream-colored jacket over a pale pink cotton shirt with an ascot at his neck. Not many men could pull off an ascot. Tibor seemed to have been born wearing one. His double-breasted waistcoat enhanced his broad chest and flat stomach. Light tan trousers covered strong and well-formed legs. He even wore wingtips. The man was as European as could be, which was only fitting as he hailed from Budapest.
The loud pop of the cork made her jump. His mellow voice lulled her into a romantic mood as he poured bubbly into two glasses. “I brought a dish my mother used to make for me, and I’ve mastered it. Paprikás Csirke.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
He smiled. “Yes, you do. It’s chicken paprikash. I’m sure you’ll like it. Do you like paprika and sour cream?”
“Yes, very much.”
“It has both. It’s hot, spicy and meaty.”
Just like you. She resisted adding that little commentary. “You’re right, I have heard of it. I’m looking forward to tasting it.”
“It’s usually accompanied by dumplings, so I brought along some nokedli.”
“Those are dumplings?”
“Yes. They’re small, like rice. Very filling, too.” He handed her a glass. “I would like to propose a toast.” He held his glass high. “To the lovely woman who introduced me to the wonders of Norwich, Massachusetts. Without her, I would be lost.”
She smiled and sipped her champagne. The crisp taste rolled over her tongue. She wanted to eat, but she didn’t want to be too full, because she intended to make room for him as dessert. “I can’t wait to eat your dinners. Both sound delicious. I’ve wanted to try your native food ever since I met you.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder, a movement so casual she didn’t even jump at his touch, but he lit a fire inside her as his fingers pressed against her sweater. “Now you have a chance to taste what I have to offer.”
Was that an accidental double-entendre or was he tempting her? She resisted commenting how she wanted to taste him something fierce. “The food will take awhile to heat up. Would you like to try my fruit salad now? I can’t wait for you to taste it.”
“I�
��d love to. It’s hard to believe we met only two months ago over the oranges and raspberries at the grocery store.”
Two months, two days, and six hours ago, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. How quickly should she move? Would he overtake her before she had a chance to seduce him? Did she even want to seduce him? Being a bit of an old-fashioned woman, Sierra wanted Tibor to woo her. She wanted to be swept off her feet as her heart leapt. Making small talk was only part of the seduction. “I couldn’t resist talking to you. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” She stood, and he followed suit. He also followed her into the kitchen.
“I put some unusual fruit into this salad.” She said. “You can only get it certain months of the year. Here, try this.” She dipped a spoon into the salad, and pulled up a small bit of fruit—a lychee. The smell of coconut and mint from her elixir floated in the air. He smiled as he inhaled, taking in the delicious scent.
“I’ve never smelled anything like this. Is there mint oil in it?” He asked.
She wasn’t about to tell him she’d cast a spell on them both. “Yes, it’s a little something extra I added. It makes the dish all the more special.” She held the spoon out to him, and he took her by the wrist. His fingertips were cool to the touch. He held her hand for a few beats too long, and a flush warmed her chest and spread onto her cheeks. Could he see she was as pink as his roses? He stared into her eyes, his gaze holding hers far too long, and she hitched in her breath. Her mouth was so dry it was hard to swallow. He smiled, and as he leaned over for what she thought for certain was a kiss that would knock her flat on her ass, he opened his mouth and took the morsel of fruit into it. A sigh of relief burst from her lips. She wanted his kiss badly but she was terrified of it at the same time. She hadn’t been with a man in several weeks, and none she had dated lately left her as weak in the knees as Tibor. The man controlled her waking dreams and lived in the shadows of her desire. She couldn’t say no to him even if she wanted to … and she didn’t want to.
“It’s delicious. I can’t tell what fruit it is, though. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
She hoped to say she never tasted anything like him in an hour or two. “It’s a lychee. They remind me of champagne.”
“We’ll have to compare them to the Moët. What other fruits are in your salad?”
“Here, try this.” She aimed her spoon at the casserole but he reached out one hand and touched her wrist. Could he feel her pulse fluttering?
“No spoon. Your fingers. I want to taste it from you.”
Her heart did a double-gainer flip. “Sure. I’d love to,” she said softly. She dipped her index and middle finger into the dish and pulled out a scoop of salad. Tibor took her by the wrist and lifted her hand to his mouth. He parted his lips and her fingers slid inside. As he took the fruit into his mouth, he suckled on her fingers, tongue dancing between one fingertip and then the other, sucking as though he were making love to her hand. A bolt of desire shot from her solar plexus to her pussy. She warmed deep inside. She felt her nipples harden and she wondered what his lips would feel like wrapped around them. Oh, if his mouth was as talented as his fingers, she could only imagine how he would treat her most intimate spaces.
“You taste delicious,” he said.
“What?” He startled her out of her daydream.
“You taste wonderful. Sweet with a hint of peppermint.”
“That’s my special oil. You also took in some blood orange and dragon fruit. I added maraschino cherries since you said you liked them.” Her breath caught in her throat, and her voice squeaked as she spoke. Her skin warmed, despite a breeze flowing from the patio.
“You remembered I liked those cherries. I’m impressed. It takes a lot to impress me.” He released her hand, and she almost whimpered in disappointment. Rather than wash her hands, she slipped her fingers into her mouth and smiled at him. His eyes flashed with desire, but he didn’t take her in his arms the way she had hoped he would. Instead, he winked at her and walked back into the living room. She followed him to the couch, but he took her by the hand and pulled her towards the center of the room, taking her in his arms.
She lifted her head, ready for his kiss, but once again he did not lower his lips to hers. She knitted her eyebrows, confused over what he wanted, when he slipped one arm around her waist.
“Would you like to dance?” He wrapped his other arm around her back, and without missing a beat she rested her head against his broad chest. His heart thundered beneath her ear, revealing the arousal he hid so well from her. So he’s more aroused than he’s letting on. He sure can keep a lid on his emotions. I wonder if I can do the same.
They swayed to the slow beat of Clannad’s lilting tune, and she shut her eyes to take in his closeness. Beneath the cedar and cinnamon lingered his masculine scent. His stubble brushed her forehead. Soft but firm lips pressed against her temple as they swayed to the music, and she gasped at the touch. She couldn’t resist his barely-contained passion, but she froze, not wanting to appear too eager. She listened to the music and rocked back and forth, a gentle movement that only intensified her passion.
The air chilled around them as thunder crashed. The scent of amber intensified as if her magic has reached a crescendo. The sky darkened, casting shadows about her living room. The wind was a wild thing, blowing her pale blue linen curtains and rustling magazines sitting on her coffee table. Candle flames flickered as more shadows danced a fevered tarantella on her walls and ceiling. Fascinated, she watched as the shadows seemed to take on human form, writhing and spinning in an orgy against each other. A harbinger of things to come? A flash of lightning split the sky, and a moment later thunder crackled not far from her patio. The storm was very close. Her curtains billowed in the wind, exhibiting the passion beneath her restrained dance with Tibor.
As a second fork of lightning flashed in the dark sky, she looked up to find her face inches from Tibor’s. He lowered his head to hers and touched her lips with his own the moment thunder crashed around her home. Rain fell in hard sheets, but she didn’t notice in the heat of his kiss. The feel of his mouth electrified her, unlike the men who slobbered all over her when they attempted the same. Why were some men such lousy kissers? Tibor knew what he was doing, and he expressed his kiss in a way that only made Sierra crave him more.
They stopped swaying and embraced each other, her desire so strong she couldn’t resist his touch. She wanted to possess him, to feel as if their bodies entwined into one. He fisted her hair, pulled her head back and then planted his lips firmly against the pulse pounding in her throat. She moaned as more thunder crashed around them and rain pounded the ground. Lights flickered and went out. Clannad ground to a halt. They stood in the center of her living room, arms wrapped around each other, greeted only by a faint glow from the few candles that the wind hadn’t blown out.
“We should shut your doors and windows.” Tibor’s voice rasped with desire.
“Good idea.” Her voice caught breathless in her throat. Although she resisted as much as she could, she pulled away from his embrace and raced to her French doors. Rain had fallen into her living room and she skidded on the floor, the near loss of balance making her heart leap even more. She closed the doors, and turned towards her windows to find Tibor closing them.
“Are there more open windows?”
“No. The ones upstairs are closed.”
He smiled and laughed, a languid sound, and stared down at his clothing. “I’m drenched. I think I need a mop.”
She looked down and saw her wet sweater and skirt stuck to her skin. “You’re not the only one. I have a change of clothing for both of us. I always keep an extra set of men’s and women’s clothes handy for guests for emergencies like this.”
He winked at her. “You have an extra set of men’s clothing for all the men who visit you?”
“Stop teasing me. It’s not like that.” She snick
ered, since of course it was exactly like that, but she’d never met anyone like Tibor. Of all the men she entertained, and there were enough, Tibor set her heart aflame in ways the others couldn’t even hold a candle to. “Follow me upstairs. I’ll get a change of clothing for both of us. I can run your clothes through the dryer if you like.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”
“How would you like to sit on my deck and watch the storm? It’s enclosed. The rain can’t get it. Nature’s brutality is an impressive thing to see.” She said.
“I’d like that.” He headed for the kitchen. “How about we take your delicious fruit salad and the champagne with us while we wait for the food to heat up?”
“Great idea. I’ll get the bubbly.”
Food and drink in hand, he followed behind her up the stairs to her bedroom, and she wondered if they’d actually change clothes and make it to the deck since her crisp sheets were only a few feet away. She had sprinkled lust magic powder on the soft cotton in the hours before he arrived, and she hoped her magic would inspire him. The food and champagne found their way to her dresser.
Tibor slipped out of his vest, ascot, and shirt, revealing a broad chest misted with black hair. Sierra hoped he didn’t see her lick her lips. She took the clothing and dropped it in the dryer next to her bathroom. He slid out of his trousers and hung them on a hanger from her shower curtain. He stood before her dressed only in navy boxers. She wriggled out of her skirt and sweater, and in moments her clothes were tumbling in gentle heat next to Tibor’s.
