Pisces_Mr. Imagination_The 12 Signs of Love

by Tiana Laveen

  “Have you ever been in love, Paxton?”

  “Yeah, definitely. I’ve fallen in love a few times, but it just never seems to last. Not because I don’t want it to; it’s just hard to find someone who understands me, you know?”

  She nodded. “What do you believe stands in your way from being understood?”

  He seemed to think long and hard before answering.

  “Space. I’m not blaming the ladies of my past, but I’m not so bad. I just need someone who won’t give up on me just because I need to be alone sometimes. Doesn’t mean I don’t love her anymore, but I need the space, and sometimes I guess I can say malicious things… I don’t always mean it. I just get fuckin’ sick of the world is all. I know most people who hang around me, Ivy, don’t love me. They just love what I can do for them, but that’s okay. I get it. I’m hard to love when I let myself drown, but if you understand me, it would be easy to love me, even when I’m over in the deep end. I’d give a woman I love the fuckin’ world. I did so in the past… anything she fuckin’ wanted.” His tone softened as if recalling someone who had stolen his heart. “But she said the dark parts of me were too much, and the swimming away, too. So love? Yeah, I gave up on that and just do what I do. I love myself; that’ll have to be good enough, at least for now.”

  “Do you believe that how you were raised affected how you see love and relationships, Paxton?”

  “In some ways I guess you could say so. I used to kinda want what my father wanted for me—you know, the house, the picket fence, the two little kids and a dog runnin’ around pissin’ all over the sidewalk.” They both chuckled at that. “I take care of my parents now, ya know? I got ’em a real big house in a nice part of town in Cambridge. You familiar with Cambridge?”

  “No, I can’t say that I am.” He reached for her, took her hand, and she let him… flesh to flesh. He pulled her closer and she didn’t resist. Her heart beat so fast as he wrapped his long, hard, strong body around hers and rested his forehead against her chest. It was a sweet and needy gesture. Sensual, beautiful, and heartbreaking, like a baby needing a cuddle.

  “It’s a nice spot, Ivy. But I got ’em outta there, outta Lowell. I help pay everybody’s bills, and that’s a lot of fuckin’ money. So, my brother helps me because we’ve all got our strengths and weaknesses. My life is good, but it’s not perfect.”

  “Paxton Starr, what scares you most?” He looked into her eyes and ran a slow hand across her cheek.

  “Sometimes I’m scared to be alone… but sometimes, I’m scared to not be…” He held her tighter, his grasp a thing that romance was made of. It felt so ordinary, as if they were both supposed to be there, just like that. She was now convinced the man was telling the truth. He wasn’t drunk. No, he was truly exhausted.

  What type of person would she be to report these confessions, things he said as he spilled his guts in a moment of fatigue and vulnerability? These were truths not fit to be shared with the public. Private thoughts meant for her, and her alone. Or did he want his fans to finally know who he was? Perhaps her heart was bleeding for the man. Had she gone and went soft?

  “You look tired, Paxton. How about you get some rest and I come back in the morning?” She didn’t know what made her do it, but she leaned down and kissed his forehead.

  “Stay with me,” he said so softly, she almost missed it.

  “Paxton, I can’t. I’m not staying the night, but I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “We don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to even touch me if ya don’t want to… just lie in the bed with me. I won’t do anything, I promise, Ivy… I just like how you smell, how you feel. I’ve touched your hair so many times and you didn’t know it. I smelled it. Your locks smell like vanilla and jasmine.” Her eyes watered at his words. Why was she becoming so emotional? “I sniffed your skin. I put rose petals in your pockets, but you didn’t know. I just wanted to do it, give you a present you’d find later… might as well tell you now though.” She reached inside her pants pocket and tugged. One by one, she pulled out soft, velvety red rose petals and tossed them onto the bed. She shook her head and burst out laughing, then ran her fingers against the back of his head. “I like you, Ivy. You’re nosey as fuck… I am too in my own way, it just makes me like you even more.” At this, she laughed even harder.

  “I like you too, Paxton. It seems the whole world likes you, but that’s still not enough…”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

  There’s something miraculous about waking up and discovering the woman that has captured your imagination is not only in your bed with streams of sunlight cast across her face, but her jeans are off, too…

  Paxton stretched his arms and stifled a yawn, an attempt to be as quiet as possible. It was 6:32 A.M. He was typically an early bird and a night owl, too. He never slept long, and today was no different. However, this time, he slept a bit more peacefully with Ivy lying beside him. As he turned to his right, he saw her lying there, sound asleep. Her long, twisted dark hair, flowing in thick black ropes, was sprawled all across her face, making her look even more beautiful. Her chest went slowly up and down, and he watched her breathing for quite some time. Then, he began to scan her body… and what a beautiful body it was. He’d offered her a t-shirt of his to sleep in and she’d accepted, opting to change in his bathroom, behind closed doors.

  The black shirt with his name and logo of a bat atop a glowing ball was long enough to cover her body, but somehow had risen high enough throughout the night to expose her upper thighs and panties. He couldn’t help staring at those panties. They were black and sheer, allowing him to see the full details of the little landing strip of pubic hair along her crotch, and her fat pussy lips, one slightly larger than the other, made him practically salivate. He so wished he could bury his face between her thighs.

  While he sat there getting an eyeful of her pussy crushed against the thin fabric of her undergarment, his heartrate accelerated. Forcing himself to look away, he tiptoed out of bed to take a quick shower and brush his teeth. He put on a fresh pair of boxers and his black hooded robe, cinching it at the waist before jaunting off into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and nosh on a bit of cereal and fresh fruit. Turning on the television with a verbal command, he listened to the local news. It came as no surprise that the first story of the day was about a brawl at the Fremont Hotel and Casino.

  I don’t like their slot machines…

  Just then, his cellphone buzzed. Still looking at the television as the newscaster gave a traffic update, he snatched it up and answered. “Yeah?”

  “What’s going on this morning?” Paxton leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles as the coffee began to percolate.

  “Interview, rehearsal, conference call with Netflix.”

  “Conference call with Netflix? You need me there?”

  “No, it’s just a preliminary discussion about a special—some idea they’re tossin’ around. I’ll let you know if it’s worth our time. Is the New York deal sealed?”

  “Yeah, it’s handled. I got you a good deal and will show you the paperwork, just need you to sign off on it.”

  He heard movement, probably coming from his bedroom. “All right, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight before the show.”

  “She’s over there, isn’t she? Did she stay the night?”

  Paxton tilted his head to the side and smiled as he began to daydream, floating away to images of his face covered in her hair as she slept. “Pax!”

  “Yeah?”

  “That fucking reporter is still there, isn’t she? She never left.”

  “Major, I’ll see you tonight.” He disconnected the call and grabbed a couple of mugs out of one of the cabinets. Pouring two cups, he brought one into the bedroom and set it down on her side of the bed. He stood over her. So beautiful, and still fast asleep.

  Hmmm, that wasn’t her. Must’ve been something else. Maybe the T.V.

  She hadn�
��t moved from when he’d left her. Falling to his knees on the floor, he gently nudged her shoulder.

  “Ivy…” he whispered, smiling as he said her name, loving how it sounded as it rolled off his tongue. “My sweet Poison Ivy…” The woman sighed and groaned before flopping over from her side onto her back. Her long, black lashes fluttered as she came to. Sitting up, she looked about, then rubbed her eyes.

  “Good morning, Paxton.” She smiled back.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “I smell coffee. You made coffee? Or is Katie here?” She took sudden notice of her exposed body and quickly shoved the shirt down past her knees.

  Too late. I’ve seen your garden and I want to explore it…

  “Katie isn’t here right now. I’m the one who made some coffee and I brought you a cup.” He slowly got to his feet, standing at his full height. He handed her the mug and she graciously accepted it, a bigger smile now on her face. Wrapping both hands around the cup, she sipped slowly. He watched as her gaze flittered about the room, then rested on his boxers; the area his crotch resided in, to be exact. He crossed his arms over his chest, letting his robe hang open, exposing his fresh pair of underwear. Feeling a bit mischievous, he made the damn thing jump. His dick twitched and rose quickly under the thin material, as if it had a mind of its own.

  “Shit!” Hot coffee splashed and he jumped out of the way in the nick of time. “Oh no! Paxton, are you okay?” She reached towards him. “Damn it! I got coffee all over your bed!”

  “Yeah.” He cracked up, his face heating with mirth. “I’m good. The question is, are you okay?”

  “Uh, yeah. Let me get this mess cleaned up. Do you have any paper towels?”

  “I’ll take care of it. We still have the rest of the interview to take care of. Do you need to leave and get clothes? I know you hadn’t planned to stay the night.”

  “That would be a waste of time. Luckily, I have a change of clothes in my car. I’ll get them.”

  “How about this, all right? Go take a shower.” He pointed towards his bathroom. “I’ll pull these sheets off the bed and call out to get them cleaned. I have some more sheets in the closet. It’s no big deal.” Before she could respond, he walked away to retrieve fresh ones. When he returned, she was in the bathroom trying to figure out the advanced shower and tub settings.

  “Oh!” She jumped and briefly closed her eyes, resting her hand against her chest. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry about that. Here ya go…” He reached around and turned the water on for her.

  “Oh, well, would you look at this set up. This is interesting, it deserves a story all on its own.” She chuckled.

  “Let me help you out here. This is how you set the temperature you want, all right? Right here is extra steam.” He pointed to a crystal knob. “Up here are lights, you know, to set the mood. Over here you’ve got lotion and shavin’ cream. Right here is shampoo and conditioner but I’m pretty fucking sure you wouldn’t want to use my shampoo and conditioner. If you want some kind that is specific, I can have it picked up and brought by. It’ll take probably about thirty minutes to get here though.”

  “Now why would you think that I can’t use your shampoo or conditioner?” The woman grimaced as if she were deeply offended. “This sounds like your thinking I was White the other day.”

  He looked at her and smirked. “Don’t go getting bent out of shape. I’m not an idiot. Our hair is different. You need different stuff, right? Like more moisture…pH-balance and coils, hair type and all that shit.”

  “And how did you become an expert on Black women’s hair?” She chortled, causing him to do the same.

  “I’m not, but I know a little somethin’. I’ve been around.” He winked at her and headed out. “If you want any help, I’m here… like needin’ your back washed, your ass kissed, you know, anything along those lines.”

  The woman slammed and locked the door, but he heard her laughing behind it. A happy feeling filled him as he went to clean up the spilled coffee, change the sheets, and finish his morning beverage. It wasn’t the only thing that was pipin’ hot…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Rode Hard and Put Away Wet

  The warm water felt so good against her skin…

  In the last twenty-four hours, she’d been floating in a daydream. She’d learned there were so many aspects to Paxton’s personality, it was mind-boggling—and fascinating, too. He could be funny and charismatic. He was intelligent and, at times, self-aware. At other times, he honestly seemed oblivious and he allowed people to just walk up to him like he was an ordinary guy on the street. He would graciously pause and take selfies with strangers. He was a celebrity but he didn’t act like one. She liked that; in fact, it drew her even more to him.

  This could be dangerous…

  He wasn’t arrogant about his gifts and abilities. Most times, he seemed humble about this.

  Even at dinner, she’d almost forgotten that he was the great Paxton Starr, one of the most famous illusionists in the world.

  He also had a dark side. In his own words, ‘I forgive people who wrong me, but I have a low tolerance for bullshit.’

  Ivy looked up and took notice of various shower controls. She reached up and toyed with them, pushing this and turning that. Music began to play, and as she turned the knob, different songs came on. She turned another knob and disco lights began to spin around the room. She couldn’t help but laugh as The Rasmus crooned, “In the Shadows.”

  At least he has great musical taste.

  As she danced about, she reached for another knob, turning it back and forth.

  This doesn’t seem to do anything. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.

  She gave a forceful tug and a big gust of foam blasted her directly in the face.

  “Damn it!”

  She slipped and slid, losing her footing until she was flat on her ass.

  “Fuck! Oh my God, my back! Shit!”

  Suddenly, she heard a pounding on the door.

  “Hey! You all right?” Before she could answer, the bathroom door swung open so hard, it sounded like the man had kicked it in. When she saw the bits of splintered wood, she realized he in fact had.

  “Are you okay? I gotcha, baby.” She felt strong arms around her wet, naked body lifting her off the shower floor, she winced at the pain from her bruised behind. He carried her so gently away, then laid her onto a bed now dressed with fresh sheets. He handed her a towel and she quickly wrapped herself in it, aware of her nudity after the shock of her fall faded away.

  “I’m okay… I slipped and it startled me. I’m having all types of accidents this morning. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  My Chemical Romance came on then, singing “Mama”. They looked at one another, the air between them intense. He chewed on his lower lip in a nervous fashion. At the sight of that she burst out laughing so hard, it hurt, and he did the same. Ivy held her stomach and flopped back on the bed, her laughter crawling up from her gut to her throat, the burn so good.

  “Oh my God! I feel like such an idiot!” She rested her hand across her face as the giggles continued. “That foam got me right in the damn eye. I was in there just turning every damn thing like I knew what I was doing. That’s what I get!”

  “Can’t fault you for trying.” He fell down on the bed beside her, smelling like coffee, soap, and lust. The cleanliness of his body wafted towards her, and her pussy contracted as he drew close. She slowly turned towards him, both of them lying on their sides facing one another. He reached for her, and she didn’t back away…

  With his fingers, he touched her hair in the softest way. She bowed into his touch and placed her hand along his jaw. He took her hand and laid a delicate kiss on her palm.

  “Do you know what I enjoy about you, Ivy?”

  “What?”

  “You’re not easily broken. A woman like you doesn’t get this resilient by mere chance. Before I tell you anything else about me, I want to hear your story.�
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  She took a deep breath and tried to keep on her game face, but she was fading fast. No one could convince her that this man could not see straight into her soul.

  “If I tell you my story, is it on or off the record?”

  He grinned at her. “Always off, baby…”

  “The condensed version… born and raised in Las Vegas, Rancho Charleston to be exact. Single mother who worked two jobs at the casinos, and also as a part time travel agent and hotel clerk trying to take care of my brother and me. We weren’t underprivileged, but Mom definitely lived pay check to pay check. I busted my ass in school, went to college, and had to work twice as hard as my White friends to prove I was worthy. I’m not bringing this up to get pity, play the race card, or any of that shit. This was my life, just stating the facts.” He nodded in understanding. “I worked two other papers before I got to the Vegas Sun. My salary doubled, my life improved. Goals were reached.”

  “I found out a bit more about you, Ivy, since I agreed to do this interview.”

  “Oh really? Like what?”

  “You’ve got a reputation for being hardnosed and ruthless. Would you say that’s true?” He ran his thumb slowly along her chin.

  “I do have a reputation for being ruthless, but I don’t deserve it. I just work hard, Paxton… like you. I make sure I don’t get emotionally involved even during stories that are heartbreaking. I try to not be overly sensitive, as well.”

  “Do you think I’m overly sensitive, Ivy?” His smile was rascally and he glared at her as if he knew her answer.

  “Yes. Yes, I do think at times you’re overly sensitive. And I think you don’t like that you’re that way, so you try to run from things. Escapism.”

  “You’re right. I’m an escape artist. You need to let loose and learn to run away. I’m good at it. I can help you escape, too.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “So, uh, do you ever leave Vegas? The world is so much bigger than here, you know.”