Human Hieroglyphix - Dex & Leila
Page 25
But I'm now off to continue on with Marianne, Ram and Paul Adler's story ( I type that not too loudly and while crossing my fingers since who knows what tomorrow morning will bring).
Please feel free to contact me at: mail@jahornbuckle.com
Feel free to connect with me at: www.jahornbuckle.com
Also, I'm always looking for beta-readers, since those essential readers are the backbone of any author's success, offering to read and help an author refine their work prior to publication. If my work speaks to you, won't you consider helping me as I machete my way through my own tangled jungle of words? Please contact me at: mail@jahornbuckle.com and use Beta Reader as the subject line.
Smiling and waving into Arizona's soft winter type of afternoon,
~J.A.
1/23/2013
Excerpt from the upcoming Tap Dance - Book Two of the Dance Series
I was awakened by a noise, and when I initially opened my eyes I didn't know where I was. I slid up in the bed using my hands to bring myself into a full sitting position and got a whiff of the cotton nightshirt I was wearing.
Ram's.
I was at Ram's, in one of his guest rooms.
As my head processed that, I was also trying to determine what the noise was that had made me wake. I reached for the lamp and heard it again.
It was voices, muffled, so I knew that they must have come from down the hall but even then I shouldn't have been able to hear them.
Something was wrong.
The tone of the voices, even though I couldn't understand the words, were tense.
I turned and got off the bed.
The voices were louder, tenser if that's a word.
I popped my head out of the door and realized that the voices were coming from the living room at the end of the hall.
Without a thought, I made my way down the hall, holding the nightshirt up like one of the heroines in long dresses do in some of my historic romance novels when they're moving down the staircase.
But, I wasn't anyone's heroine.
And there wasn't a staircase.
There were just two angry voices that seemed to get angrier by the minute.
I walked down the hall towards them.
Paul was standing just inside the front door, still in his thick parka, holding his gloves in a fist.
Ram was standing across from him, clad in what I immediately assumed were the bottom portion of my top.
Was there wearing only the bottoms.
Chest on display, even though it was turned away from me. But the back view was just fine in my opinion.
Paul, who was facing me, was gesticulating wildly, and using his hands for emphasis.
"Marianne should've been with me, Chief!"
"You weren't there Adler. I was. She's here."
"Then she should've called me."
"But she didn't. Adler, let it go. She's here and she's asleep."
I made my way out of the open hallway not wanting either of them to think or discover that I was eavesdropping.
"Hey, guys. What's going on?" I asked innocently, but between you, me and the lamp post I had more than a good idea of what was going on. Any minute now these two would be outside trying to write their names in the snow.
Geesh, what is it with guys anyway?
"Hey, Paul," I said, leaning up against the side of one of Ram's deep couches.
"You okay, baby?" I heard him ask. I hated that word, hated to be called 'baby'. I wasn't a little girl and the thought of the alleged endearment was just plain 'icky' to me.
And I had said so on many occasions.
But Paul didn't listen, which told me on some deep level that what I said didn't count.
Ram turned his upper body towards me and I got an eyeful of his muscular arms that were crossed against his chest. And as my gaze went lower, I saw his abs.
Aw, geez.
My breath caught as I raised my eyes to him.
The sight of him half undressed was playing along every nerve ending I had.
"Marianne?" I heard Paul say.
"Uh, yeah?" I responded reluctantly moving my eyes to him.
"You okay, baby?" he repeated and it was, honestly, like the sound of a phonograph needle screech.
"Uh, yeah, Paul," I replied, tearing my eyes again away from Ram, not realizing they had drifted back to him without thought..
"Why don't you two talk and I'll, uh, make some tea," I heard Ram say before he moved off to the kitchen side of the house.
I walked around the couch and sat down, bringing my knees to my chest before raising my head to Paul.
Esthetically speaking Paul was absolutely gorgeous. Dark sandy hair that was cropped close around the side with a longer top. Light blue eyes and sharp features that were manly enough to offset the fullness of his mouth.
I had noticed that he only shaved every couple of days so that he was always a bit 'scruffy' which only added to his good looks.
But his handsome seemed a bit, well, a bit contrived.
And in my mind, if the outside was contrived, what must the inside be like?
In the time that I'd been with him, that had not been successfully answered.
Not at all.
"You okay, baby?" Paul asked yet again.
"I told you yes, Paul," I said wrapping my arms around my calves after securing all the extra fabric of the long, long shirt around me.
"Why didn't you call?" he asked, curiously never moving toward me.
"Everything happened kind of fast. I really didn't think about it, to tell you the truth."
I saw my words hit him hard which was not my intention. But as evidenced by his flinch, he thought that there was a lot more between us than I did.
"But, it's nice that you came here," I said softly knowing that my words wouldn't cover the hurt my careless words had caused.
We just stared at each other.
Which is interesting to note that the look that Paul and I shared there in Ram's house, from a distance of about fifteen feet, was nothing like the eye to eye lock that Ram and I'd had in our 'moment' earlier.
"Call me tomorrow?" Paul demanded, which when I heard the tone in his voice wasn't a request, it wasn't asking me.
It was demanding that I do.
Didn't like that.
At all.
Yes, I was one of those girls.
The kind of girl that likes to make up her own mind, that likes to make her own choices and who immediately butts heads with whatever Alpha male in the room that feels that he needs to tell me what he wants me to do, what I was supposed to be doing, in the way that he thinks it should be done.
"Yes, Paul, I'll call you tomorrow," I said, just wanting him gone. He seemed like sand-paper in the calm of Ram's house.
"Take care, then, baby," he said before turning slightly and announcing, "Leaving, Ram."
"See you, Adler," came the call from the kitchen.
Paul did a chin lift and then let himself out the door.
I stayed there, in my cozy spot in the corner of one of the deep couches in Ram's living room. My chin was on my knees and my eyes were still on the door when Ram brought me a large earthenware mug.
"Chai?" he asked, as he pressed the mug into my hands.
"Sorry?"
"Tea?"
"Oh. Sure," I finally replied before my brain came back to the here and now. "What's that word you said?"
"Which one?" Ram sat himself at the other end of the long couch and brought his own mug up to his lips giving me an uninterrupted view of his torso.
"The one before you said 'tea'," I clarified shakily as I wrapped both hands around my own mug.
"Chai?"
At my nod, he smiled.
"It just means tea."
"Oh, like at Buxby's" I said artlessly.
"Are you okay, MG?"
I thought about his question for a minute.
"I'm getting there, I think. If that makes any sense," I mumbled, bringing the hot mug up to my lips.
"The tea will help you sleep, Pyari. Drink," I heard him murmur.
I took a sip and it was a milky blend of spices with tea as the back note on my tongue. Strong, good and absolutely delicious. I felt the warmth of it spread throughout my body.
"Delicious," I admitted.
"Nectar of the God's?" Ram teased.
I had told him that, for me, the first sip of coffee each morning was like having Nectar of the Gods when he had been in my apartment.
When he hadn't been the Chief but had been just the man, the gorgeous man, in my apartment not so long ago.
"You betcha. A lot more than the coffee, I think. What's in it?"
"Not quite sure. It's a blend that my dad gets from India and shares with the rest of us."
"Really good, Ram. Thanks," I said softly, trying so hard not to ogle him and failing miserably.
The hot drink, the beautiful room, the wonderful man sitting bare-chested at the other end of the couch, me in one of his Asian sub-continent type, long shirts.
Can anyone say 'swoon worthy moment'?
He got up and made his way to me holding out his hand. I didn't hesitate in the least and placed my hand in his.
He face broke out into a full-face smile.
"No, Pyari. Your cup," he explained softly.
Oh.
Yeah.
Right.
My cup.
I handed him what he'd asked for, more than a bit abashed at my faux pas.
I saw him turn and look at me over his shoulder as he rounded the corner on his way to the kitchen and the light in his eyes made my heart beat faster.
Oh, golly.
But I stayed there, in my little corner of his couch waiting for him to return.
Wishing that he would return and…
And…
Just be with me.
Be with me the way I knew, I freaking knew, he wanted to be.
I was always aware that we were worlds apart, but now I really could see how his portion of the world and my little edge of the world just overlapped in tiny pieces.
That they may not be completely fused, but there was a juncture there, between his world and my world, nonetheless.
A juncture where Ram and I might meet.
I saw the lights in the kitchen go out before he appeared around the corner again.
Saw him, my beautiful Ram, come to my side and hold his hand out again.
I swallowed unsure what I was supposed to do.
But there were no cups to be collected.
Nothing to be toted away.
It was just him and me.
And as he stood there next to the couch, next to me, he continued to hold his hand out.
I hesitantly placed my hand in his and caught his smile as I did.
"To bed, Pyari, okay?" I heard him say.
And my heart beat did a triple rhythm as he spoke, as he led me again down the long hallway to the bedroom I had been given in his beautiful house.
As we stood there, in the light from the bedroom, he brought my hand to his lips.
"Sleep well, MG," he murmured against my skin. "Mera Pyari."
I didn't know what the last bit was that he spoke, but I recognized the want in his eyes that was surely mirrored in mine.
I wanted this man.
I wanted to have him between my thighs, inside me.
Without thinking, I swayed into him and wrapped my arm around his neck bringing his face to mine.
He didn't fight it and his eyes were glued to my lips the entire time I brought his head down.
And I kissed him softly, closed mouth but with a bit of a suck as the kiss ended.
And I didn't just do that once.
I did it a number of times.
After more than a few of those times, I felt him relax into it.
His hands stole around my back as he curled around me and he slanted his face so our mouths were in full contact. His tongue hesitantly, almost reverently, touched my lip and I opened my mouth to allow him entrance.
Oh, God.
Ram's tongue was in my mouth, swirling and twining with mine.
And I was aware that my breasts were pressed against his ribcage as he bent to me.
He released a bit, his lips still trailing over mine as I clung to him.
"Please, Ram…"
"Pyari…" he moaned and walked me backwards to the bed, lowering me onto it, before he followed me down. He dropped himself into the channel between my legs, our mouths still fused and moving.
I felt the evidence of his want and opened my legs further.
Take me, my heart said.
He pulled up onto his right arm until it was straight even though his hips, his hardness, was still pressed against the cleft of me.
"Are you sure…" he began.
But I didn't wait even a nano-second to consider what he was going to say to complete his sentence.
"You better believe it," I breathed looking up at him.
God.
He was gorgeous.
I flipped up the longest part of the long shirt and gripped him with my thighs.
"Take me…" I whispered against his ear. "Take me, Ram."
I didn't have to ask twice as he fumbled to pull my panties off, sliding them down my legs, before reaching for his drawstring trousers.
And just as I was lying there, legs splayed and body wanting, yearning, an alarm went off deep inside the house.
Ram froze and turned tortured eyes to me.
"I'm sorry, MG. I have to go," he murmured, reaching and securing his drawstring before moving fast out of the room.
(estimated publication date 4/2013)