by Andromeda
"I'll also give you the number to my assistant Gloria," he had said. "She will be your main contact when I'm not around."
Rosalinda just nodded and has gone with the flow; so far, Alphonse hasn't contacted her and it's not like she’s complaining. She does need some time to herself to figure this all out. She was glad to see that he had begun to send money to her family almost instantly and at the moment she signed the contract. She is also glad that he’s not pressuring her to have sex. She wants it to be in her own time; she just doesn’t know when…or if she truly wants to.
Leaving such thoughts aside, she and Georgia walk to the checkout aisle and place their outfits on the counter. The cashier looks at their clothes and then the two women, sniffing disdainfully.
"And how do you plan to plan to pay for this?"
"With a credit card?" Rosalinda says, holding up the credit card that Alphonse has given her. Not again...
"And how did you acquire said credit card?" the cashier snaps.
"I went to the bank and filled out the paperwork," Rosalinda says slowly, already knowing where this is going and struggling against her rising temper.
"I highly doubt that," the cashier hisses. "You stole that card! There is no way someone like you could ever afford something like that."
"Look, bitch," Rosalinda snarls, forgetting all manner of decorum. "I have had it with your snobby ‘tude! I got this credit card from my boyfriend, who I can call along with the bank if you wish to prove it's mine! But you know what, keep the crappy clothes; they reek with your racism. Come on, Gigi."
Getting her arm, Rosalinda drags Georgia from the store and to the parking lot where her Volvo XC60 waits for them.
Georgia blinks. "Girl...that was bad ass!"
Rosalinda huffs. "I'm sick and tired of people judging me because of the color of my skin. I mean geeze, it's 20-flippin 16 people! Grow up already!"
Georgia laughs and taps her shoulder. "That's my girl. Come on, let’s go someplace else and shop."
Climbing into the car, it isn't hard to find a new place to shop, and shop they do. Rosalinda is used to racism as she has a double whammy over her shoulders: she is African-American and Hispanic. Her mother was Puerto Rican while her father was African-American. She doesn’t know who they are, nor does she really care, but they are her parents; they made her come into this world. Yet, the world is a cruel place and she has faced racism, bigotry, and so much more. She doesn't want her children to face such things; it could help that both of their parents are Caucasian, yet…she doesn’t want them to be judged on the color of their skin.
All these thoughts of her children make her want to talk to them to check in, so while Georgia goes to pay for their items, she steps outside in order to make the call. Within moments, her grandmother answers.
"Hola?" an elderly woman’s voice says at the other end.
"Hola, abuela," Rosalinda whispers.
"Rosa, mia hija!" her grandmother exclaims. "How are you, child?"
"I am doing good, Abeula," Rosalinda says softly. "How are the children?"
"They miss you," her grandmother says. "We haven't seen you in a while."
"Well, I got into that school," Rosalinda says. "And I erm...got a full scholarship and am able to send some money to you guys." She hates lying to her grandmother, but she would die of a heart attack if she knew her granddaughter was a sugar baby.
"Dios mío! Well then I'm glad for you, hija," her grandmother says proudly. "I knew you could!"
"Gracias, abuela," Rosalinda says with a smile. "And my gifts? Did you get it?"
"Si, mi hija," her grandmother says. "We did. How did you get an internship so quickly?"
"I...erm, impressed the right kind of people with my dress," Rosalinda says quickly, biting her tongue at the lie. In face to face situations, her grandmother can sniff a lie a thousand miles away but she hopes she can't tell this time.
"That is amazing, mi hija," her grandmother says, making Rosalinda exhale deeply in relief. "I am so proud of you."
"Gracias, abuela," Rosalinda says with a sigh, glancing at Georgia coming out of the store with their bags. "Gotta go, but I'll talk to you guys later tonight, ok?"
"Si, mi hija," her grandmother says. "Talk to you later."
"Te amo chicos," Rosalinda whispers, telling them she loves them all before hanging up and turning to Georgia. "Ready to go?"
"Yep, let’s go," she says. "Who was that on the phone?"
"My abuela," Rosalinda answers, taking her bags. "Just checking up on her and the kids."
"And is everything ok?" Georgia asks.
"Yeah, it’s fine," Rosalinda says, nodding. "Come on, let's go to my house; you gonna stay over?"
Georgia nods and they go to the Volvo to drive home. As they do, the phone in the car begins to ring and Rosalinda presses the button on the dashboard when she sees that it’s Alphonse's number.
"Hello?" she says.
"It's Alphonse," he says. "Where are you?"
"About to head on with Georgia," Rosalinda answers. "Why?"
"I'm coming over to stay the night," he says.
Georgia and she look at each other. "Erm..." Rosalinda stammer. "Does it have to be tonight? I promised Gigi that she could..."
"Look Rose, I had a hard day at work today and I need the comfort of a woman right now," Alphonse snaps. "I'm coming over, so expect me in a couple hours. Tell your friend to have another night. I am asking nicely. Remember our contract."
Rosalinda sighs, cursing him under her breath. He is right about the contract and she has to obey. “Alright, fine. I'll drop Georgia off at her house and head on home. I'll...cook dinner, I guess."
"Alright, see you tonight then," Alphonse says before the call disconnects.
Georgia looks at her. "So...is that your new boyfriend?"
She is trying to be serious, but Rosalinda can see a teasing smile on her lips and she blushes.
"Maybe..." she says nervously.
"He sounds sexy," Georgia says. "And that accent..." she fans herself with her hand.
Rosalinda laughs and playfully nudges her. "Shut up you. Overall, he has treated me right."
"Good," she says nodding. "That is all that matters."
Rosalinda drops Georgia off at her house, then helps her with her bags and gives her a hug before getting back in the car and heading home. Time to get ready for this night...
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When she gets home, she already has a plan. Within minutes, she has begun to cook dinner; all men love it when women cook. She stirs a pot of bubbling beans before lifting it up from the stove. Humming softly to herself, she sprinkles the last seasonings into the pot and gently sniffs. Mouthwatering. Smiling to herself, she pours the beans into a bowl and then walks to the table, placing them with the other foods. She looks around with approval; she’s done well.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
She looks up, hearing the door and then sighs; he's here. Before answering, she looks at herself in the mirror: a red and black lace bra and panty set under a black off the shoulder top, and matching booty shorts with long socks that have small red roses along the hem. Her hair is loose as she’s noticed that Alphonse loves it when she has it that way. This was one of the outfits that she tells Georgia to buy, but she thinks that her friend might be going a bit overboard with the roses.
Walking over to the door, Rosalinda opens it and Alphonse steps inside. He is dressed in a suit but has a small shoulder laptop case at his side as well as a small duffel bag, no doubt his night clothes and toiletries
"It smells wonderful in here," he says in that deep voice that's always made her melt.
"Thank you," she says almost shyly, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Come on in."
Alphonse steps inside and looks around, nodding with approval at how she decorated the place: bright colors, floral patterns, and ocean-themed trinkets. He will admit, this is different than what he’s used too as the inside feels warm and very in
viting.
"Nice place," he says. "You've decorated well."
"Thank you,” Rosalinda says. “You can put your bag in the bedroom and change if you want. It's down the hall to the left. Dinner is almost ready.”
Alphonse nods and walks to the bedroom that she directed him to be. It’s a guest room and he frowns at that; why would he be in the guest room when he is most likely sleeping in her bed? Poking his head out, he sees that she’s gone back in the kitchen and walks across the hall to her bedroom. It’s almost as brightly colored as the rest of the house and very well done, if he might say so himself.
Rosalinda is a very clean woman; he will give her that as well as having a clear head on her shoulders. She is very ambitious, a factor that he himself relates to. Once he is done putting up his things, he decides to take a shower and uses her own. As he washes his body, his mind wonders what it would be like if Rosalinda was in the shower with him.
Uttering a guttural groan, he can picture everything: the water slowly sliding down her body, the perfectly round breasts, the plump bottom. He begins to fantasize, imagining her pressed against the wall with him behind. He can hear her soft breathy moans of pleasure as he thrusts within her. He wonders if she’s a screamer or more quiet; he wonders what she feels like wrapped around him.
Unable to stop himself, his hands wander downward and he grasps himself. Groaning softly, he begins to move his hand; under the hot spray of the shower, he pictures himself pounding into her hard and deep, every stroke hitting that perfect spot that makes all women melt.
“Rosalinda…” he whispers softly, moving his hand faster and panting. “Rosalinda…”
With a loud groan, he releases, panting heavily as he tries to figure out what just happened. He has never gotten this hot and heavy over a woman, and the thought that he has gotten so this quickly shows that there is a draw to her that he has yet to figure out. Getting out of the shower, he begins to dry himself off as he thinks to himself; what could be so important about this one girl?
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Alphonse walks around the corner into the dining room and Rosalinda almost drops the bowl in her hands. He is freshly showered and smells like Irish Spring soap, his hair is damp and pressed to his skin. He is shirtless in a pair of grey jogging pants that hang low on his hips. Rosalinda has to bite her bottom lip as she can’t help but do a quick rundown of his body, seeing the fine line of hair starting from his navel and traveling down to his pubic area. It takes everything in her to not stare.
Alphonse smirks; she is as affected as he is.
"Like what you see, se leva?" he asks, using the French word for rose.
Rosalinda narrows her eyes and look away, fighting to keep the blush from forming on her cheeks. "I've seen better."
Alphonse’s smirk drops from his lips at that. It takes everything him not to run to her and pull her into his arms, smashing his lips into hers in an angry kiss before throwing her onto the table and tearing off the mouthwatering outfit she is wearing and showing her exactly how skilled he is with the tool between his legs.
“What’s for dinner?” he snaps, needing something to get what she said off his mind.
Rosalinda smiles proudly at that, also secretly happy that she’s rattled him a bit. She has made grilled Guineafowl breast with plantains, Arroz rojo con camarones (Red rice with shrimp), and homemade chips with salsa, sour cream, and chipotle sauce for dipping. To drink, she has Piña coladas, and for desert there is a Flan in the oven that can be eaten with ice cream.
She holds her breath as Alphonse inspects the table; for some reason, she wants his approval in her works. Within a couple of moments, he nods and turns to look at her with the first small smile she’s seen on his lips.
“This is amazing,” he says truthfully. “And it all smells amazing.”
Rosalinda breathes a sigh of relief and hands him a plate. "Well, get it while it's hot. There's a movie on I wanna watch."
"A movie?" he asks questionably as she begins to pile her plate full of food.
"Well, of course," she answers. "Dinner and a movie, all in one."
Leaving him, she walks to the living room and plops down on the couch, turning to Lifetime. A couple minutes later, he joins her and they eat in silence, mainly watching the movie and casting sideway glances at each other.
As the movie ends, she takes a deep breath. "So...how was work?"
"More or less horrible," he answers. "My contractors are idiots so I fired them all."
"You fired them all?" she asks in shock. "Why?"
"They couldn't get what I wanted, so they are useless to me. So, I fired them," he shrugs. "What does it matter?"
"Those people most likely had families, children that might have depended on them," she points out.
He shrugs and puts his plate on the table and leans back, putting his hands behind his head. "It doesn't matter to me. I was in a bad mood this morning and their incompetence made it worse. They paid the price for it. Why should I care?"
Rosalinda frowns at his insensibility, then she gets an idea. Putting her plate to the side, she gets up and walks behind him. Her hands reach out and she begins to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension in them.
Alphonse tenses slightly and then sighs heavily. “What…what are you doing?”
“You seem tense,” she says softly. “So I’m trying to help with it…”
“Does this have to do with me firing my workers?” Alphonse asks, his voice thick as he can hear her heartbeat in his ears.
“Please hire them back,” she says. “It was an accident…”
Alphonse doesn’t respond; instead, he focuses on the feeling of her breasts against the back of his neck as he groans softly, imagining what they would feel like pressed in his mouth. He can’t take it anymore. Rosalinda yelps as he reaches behind him and pulls her into his lap. Her legs are spread, feeling the tent raising in his pants as he looks into her amber eyes.
Pulling her close, he presses his lips to hers and she responds. Rosalinda tangles her fingers in his hair to pull him closer as their lips move in perfect sync. He thrusts his hands under her shirt, palming her flat stomach before moving his hands up to her breasts. All the dreams that he’s had are nothing compared to the real thing, and he is loving every second of it.
Rosalinda’s head is spinning. She shouldn’t be doing this; she knows where this normally leads, and she knows that she isn’t ready for it. Yet…she can’t stop. The feel of his lips against hers feels so right and she doesn’t want to pull away.
Alphonse groans softly and cups her lower back, pulling her closer as he begins to grind against her. He loves listening to the soft music of her moans and wants more of them; he needs more of them. Trailing his kisses down her neck, he tears open her shirt, needing more before taking out a breast from her bra. Looking at her once, he kisses it gently before latching onto the chocolate nub, sucking on it as if he is a dehydrated man.
“A…Alphonse,” she whispers. “A…Alphonse…p…please…”
He ignores her and flips her onto her back; in his mind, he thinks that if he has her once then he will be satisfied. His hands begin to tear at her clothes but she begins to struggle, pushing him away.
“No,” she says. “A…Alphonse, no, please…”
His hands stop instantly and he looks at her. “What?”
“I…I’m not ready for that step,” she says. “Please respect it.”
He has a raging hard on that is making it really hard to think with the head on his shoulders and not in his pants, but if his mother taught him one thing, it was to respect women’s wishes so he takes a step back.
“Fine…” he says tightly. “I just need to…”
Rosalinda nods and tries to fix her clothes, though it ought to be as if she is wearing tissue paper as they are shredded. Alphonse leaves to go handle his little problem while she goes to put on some different clothes. Cleaning up the kitchen, she is surprised when he comes back t
o help.
Once everything is cleaned, they go to her bedroom; though she is slightly surprised that he crawls into bed with her, she isn’t bothered by it. She asks if he will re-hire the people he fired and he promises he will before he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to him as they both fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter Seven
Alphonse groans softly as he releases, panting heavily as he slumps against the tile of his shower. That has to be sixth time that he’s had to handle his pent up passions in the shower this week. It’s the only way he can handle his feelings for Rosalinda that he refuses to recognize.
They have been together for a couple of weeks now and he is forcing himself to keep his hands off of her. He wants nothing more than to be inside her, but he is respecting her wishes and waiting for her to give in. However, it doesn’t help that they have steamy make-out sessions that make him have to get up and go relieve himself else they go too far.
She makes him feel…different; ways that he never thought he’d ever feel for a woman, but he fights against it. He refuses to feel anything other than a light affection. Yet…he can’t help but feel the tickling of something else. She possesses a spirit that he’s never seen before, a spirit that he feels attached to.
When his phone begins to ring, he turns off the shower and steps out of it but when he sees the caller ID, he loudly groans: Georgianna. There goes his happy morning. Alphonse wants to ignore it, but then again something might be wrong with Lukas so he answers.
"Hello?"
"Hello, my love," a syrupy sweet voice says at the other end.
"Good morning, Georgianna," Alphonse says tightly, trying to keep it casual. "How can I help you this morning?"
"Just wondering how you are," she says and then giggles like a little girl.
Alphonse frowns deeply. "Georgianna, you know the rules. Do not call me over something minor unless it has something to do with Lukas."
"He is fine," she says, that British accent that once held him captive now sounding like nails on a chalkboard to him. "But I just wanted to check up on you."
