Wildflower

by Kimbrough, Michele

  “Make a wish,” she said.

  He smiled and dug in his pocket. Closing his eyes, he mouthed a few words, and tossed the coin into the fountain.

  “What did you wish for?”

  The setting sun gave the sky a vibrant hue. The colorful lighting on the fountain glowed, spotlighting the blonde highlights in her hair. Preston reached his hand around the nape of her neck, under her hair, easing her closer to him. She closed her eyes at his touch. He liked when she did that. It made him want her more.

  “You,” he said.

  He leaned in and kissed her lips tenderly. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Spotting the ice cream vendor cycling around the trail just outside of the boundaries of the Taste of Chicago event, she got excited. She jogged to the cart and waved for Preston to hurry. There was really no need to hurry — there were only a few kids who reached the vendor ahead of her —so he took his time.

  Preston finally arrived and they ordered two waffle cones. Preston had chocolate walnut and Iris, butter pecan. He watched, enraptured, while she enjoyed her ice cream, the way she toyed with it, licked it — how she took the full mound of the creamy delight into her mouth, allowing it to melt in the warmth of it – and pulled it out slowly. Yeah, Preston watched, imagining — no, wishing — that he were that ice cream cone. He got lost in it for a moment. He took a step closer, so close that she backed up. He took his napkin and moved towards her face with it. She flinched a little, not knowing what to expect. When he saw her shudder, he pulled back.

  “May I?” he asked, holding up the napkin and gesturing in the general direction of her face. “You have a little ice cream right here,” he said as he dabbed the creamy mess from her face.

  “You didn’t want to lick it?”

  Preston surprised himself with his wide-eyed silence.

  “…So disappointing, Preston,” she joked.

  “Oh, you continue to surprise me. Do I get a do over?”

  “Ah, too little too late, my handsome knight in shining armor.”

  “Your kni… When did I become all of that?”

  “When you kissed me at the Peach Frog,” she giggled.

  “Lick your cone.”

  “Uh-uh. You missed your chance, Mister.”

  “Just lick your cone, woman.”

  She laughed playfully then complied without taking her brown eyes off of him.

  She managed to smear ice cream on the tip of her nose and chin. He knew it had been deliberate and fully planned to take advantage of it. He took the cone out of her hand and tossed it, along with his, in the receptacle next to them.

  “Hey!” she shouted. “I was still eating that!”

  “I can’t watch you eat that anymore — making a mess of yourself,” he grinned.

  “You know you can’t resist,” she teased.

  He slowly leaned towards her, hands in his pockets to control himself from doing anything inappropriate. He wanted her, right then and there. The public be damned.

  Her soft, sticky palms cupped his face. He kissed the ice cream from nose, then her chin. Before he could pull back, she wrangled him closer and kissed him gently on the mouth. Her lips were like pillows against his. He felt a rise in his pants that he needed to subdue. But when her tongue toyed with his, he lost the battle. He stretched out his leg a little, trying to be inconspicuous. He needed to adjust himself, and that was the best way he could do it without bringing attention to the situation. Iris noticed and smirked.

  Cutting through Grant Park, Preston walked with Iris to Michigan Avenue, arm-in-arm, sometimes hand-in-hand, until they reached her brother’s building.

  “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” she said poetically, as if those words had been her own composition.

  “Tomorrow?” he asked. “May I see you again.”

  She stepped back, positioning herself under the awning near the lobby door, then dug in her purse.

  “Give me your hand.” She used her teeth to pull the cap from the black Sharpie.

  “Here’s my phone number.” She wrote it on the medial side of his arm. “Use it wisely.”

  He opened the lobby door. She stood, gazing into his eyes wantonly.

  He reached for her hand and pulled her close. He pushed her windblown hair from her face and kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips – gently and passionately. She didn’t want to break from the warmth of his touch. When they reluctantly parted, she went into the building. Preston watched as she disappeared around the security desk.

  9

  Iris sauntered into the condo, singing happily as she twirled through the door. Idris lived on Chestnut Street in a high rise apartment that occupied the entire twenty-eighth floor. She knew Idris had done well for himself but she’d had no idea he was doing this well. He always had a new hustle. She couldn’t define what he did for a living. He’d invest in this or that, he’d buy a few buildings here and there. He dabbled in just about anything that would turn a profit for him. The last time she had been home, Idris was living in the South Loop, renting an apartment near the corner where Michigan Avenue and Roosevelt Road intersected. It was really nice and the view was to die for. His new place was much more than just a view, though. It was elegant.

  She dropped her keys in the key tray near the door and stopped at the sitting area midway down the hall. The moon vibrantly beamed through the window. She sat there for a moment, thinking about her fabulous evening, but then everything else began to seep in, taking over her pleasant thoughts. What was next? There was nothing left in Houston for her and the thought of living so close to Peter and Sara repulsed her. As large as Texas was, it wasn’t large enough for her to distance herself from them. She had no job, so what was the point in going back home?

  Home. Now that was a misnomer if there’d ever been one. She didn’t have a home.She had been crashing on Cam’s sofa. She had no family in Houston except her ex-husband. But, seeing that he was now her ex, it disqualified him from the family category. So what was in Houston to go back to? Home? She was homeless.

  Idris hadn’t returned from wherever he was. She suspected he was off somewhere grieving, maybe with a woman. He had been much closer to Jolene than Iris was. He loved Jolene like any son loved his mother. He was even more pained that the two women he loved most in the world, his sister and mother, disliked each other.

  She went through Idris’ pantry and refrigerator and masterfully created a succulent meal for whenever he returned. She enjoyed cooking. All the years she spent preparing last minute dinners and planning short-notice functions for Peter had forced her to learn to be creative. It was the creativity that she loved, only second to watching people enjoy her food. Idris was no different. Whenever she came home, he’d submit his request for one of his favorite dishes. While he was judgmental of her life choices and controlling of his environment, Idris loved Iris and welcomed her visits… as few as they were.

  She sent Idris a text message letting him know she had cooked and the food was in the refrigerator.

  ***

  Iris ran water for a hot bath using bath salts that were left behind by Idris’ ex-girlfriend. She sat the glass jar of crystals on the pedestal beside the antique tub. Although it was summer, Iris lit the electric logs in the fireplace that sat in the corner of the bathroom near the tub — just for the ambiance.

  “Oh, this feels nice,” she said as she lowered herself into the hot tub. It had been a long while since she had been able to relax alone like this, having shared a bathroom with two men — albeit gay men — for the past six months. It had been even longer since she surrounded herself with the finer things she enjoyed at her brother’s condo — state-of-the-art everything. Cam’s place was nice and she was comfortable there, but Idris’ condo was like something out of Architectural Digest. It was pristine.

  Her phone vibrated. She didn’t recognize the number. When she answered, the voice on the other end was deep, smooth, soft.

  “Wildflower.”

  She smiled.
/>   “Preston.”

  “Bad time?”

  She shook her head as if he could see her.

  “No.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. I had a good time tonight.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  “Soaking in the tub.”

  Silence.

  “Hello?” Iris said, cutting through the sudden silence.

  “Shh. I’m envisioning you in the tub. Don’t interrupt.”

  She laughed.

  “May I see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” she said, almost before he finished asking. “Preston?”

  “Wildflower.”

  “Come see me.”

  “What?”

  She sat erect in the tub, dangling one of her arms over its side, fidgeting with the fluffy threads of the bath rug.

  “Come over for…,” she searched for the right euphemism, “coffee.”

  “Coffee.”

  “Coffee.” She closed her eyes, licking her lips. “Steaming, hot, robust coffee.” She opened her eyes and leaned back in the tub. “Hurry,” she said. “I’d hate for the coffee to get cold.”

  “You honor me with your offer,” he said softly with an ear-to-ear grin.

  She got out of the tub and wrapped the towel around her slender body, walking through the condo to see if Idris had made it back home. He hadn’t.

  “I — I really enjoyed spending the rest of my day with you, Preston.” She slipped into her boy shorts then adjusted them so that the band hugged her hips. “You were a pleasant surprise I hadn’t expected.”

  She paused to slip her tank top over her head. She also wanted to give Preston an opportunity to talk since she’d been doing most of the talking for the past several minutes. When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

  “It’s been an emotional rollercoaster ride for me with all that’s been going on. So, you were a welcome treat. I just…”

  “Wildflower.”

  “Yes?”

  “Buzz me in.”

  “Buzz you in? You’re here? Already? I thought your brother lived in River Forest.”

  “He does but I decided to get a hotel room. Just wanted to be in the city. I liked what I saw.”

  Silence.

  “Iris?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure. Hold on.”

  After she buzzed him in, she ran into her room, changing into a blouse and shorts. She brushed her hair into a wispy style, spritzed body spray on her hot spots, and smoothed lip gloss onto her lips, pinching her cheeks to give them a natural blush.

  10

  A rapid knock at the door sounded. She smiled when she opened it and saw Preston standing there in a loose t-shirt, cargo shorts, and sandals. His long dreadlocks were tied back, and his five o’clock shadow had overtaken his goatee.

  Preston stepped into the condo and pulled her body into his. His soft hands roamed up her arms, around her shoulders, then with one hand resting on the nape of her neck and the other twisted around her loose curls, he gently pulled her even closer.

  For a long moment, they were still – breathing together, hearts beating in harmony, her breasts pressed against the warmth of his hard chest. She nestled her head on his shoulder and rested her hands on his slender waist.

  “I’m here for my coffee,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

  She closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips anticipating his. With one hand still locked in the silkiness of her curls, the other cupping her chin, she felt his lips press against hers, softly at first, gaining intensity with each plunge and retreat of his tongue. His long, burning kiss left her trembling. She felt her body’s hot, wet response to his touch. Breathe. She had to remember to breathe. Her muscles were clenching, chest heaving, and heart racing.

  Again, she was kissed by the softest lips, this time just below the ear.

  Everything about him — his brown eyes and full sulky lips, his long, neatly lined dreadlocks, his perfectly commanding height — every inch of him seemed scrumptiously sexy.

  He didn’t waste time with chitchat. He let his hands do the talking, the way he touched her soft smooth skin, caressing her sensuously. He unbuttoned her blouse, taking his time as if seeing a natural wonder for the first time.

  When he reached the last button, he leaned down to kiss her neck, working his way to her slender shoulder and down to the ample mounds of her bosom, removing her blouse, allowing it to drop to the floor.

  She felt his tongue circle her nipples, giving both equal attention. His tongue swirled around the areolae, sending sensations through her body. She tried hard to shake the wanton feelings that Preston evoked.

  She loved that he was attentive. As each part of her body was revealed, he admired it like a piece of art.

  He laid her down on the sofa, sliding her legs apart. Unzipping his pants and lowering his shorts, he released himself from the constraints of his boxer briefs. She was startled by his thickness. He worked his way down her body until she felt the light tickle from his stubble brushing against her inner thighs. As his tongue worked its magic, her head fell back with her lower lip between her teeth.

  She rolled her hips in rhythmic submission to his tongue. She was silent outwardly, but inside, she moaned heartily, completely consumed by ecstasy. He felt her hot moisture against his lips like the smooth glide of a flowing creek.

  Working his way back up, he tasted every part of her — her belly, her navel, her breasts, her neck. His throbbing hardness penetrated her, deeply, as he sucked on her lips. A moan escaped her without her realizing she’d let it go. Their bodies moved in tempo, like a choreographed rumba — hips thrashing, flesh clapping, muscles bounding, legs entangling.

  Heat. Salty skin. Sweat. Rigorously pumping their bodies together. Their searing consummation had brought him to the brink of orgasm, but he held back. He waited until he felt her body quiver under his, with complete and totally gratification. He moved with slower, softer rhythms until they both lay exhausted and wet. Spent.

  11

  The bathroom shower came to a dripping stop and Preston stepped out. Man, it’s hot, he thought as sweat beaded on his chest before he could dry his body. The humidity was like cellophane on his face — suffocating. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stood gazing at the sunrise from the window that overlooked the lake. It appeared as if the sun had fallen off the edge of the lake, barely peeking over the horizon.

  Preston smiled when he felt Iris’ arms wrap around his chest from behind, caressing him. He turned and kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids, her lips. She ran her fingers over the long surgical scars beneath his well-defined pectorals. He quickly grabbed her hand, moved it from his scars, and kissed it softly.

  “Any coffee in this place?”

  “You didn’t enjoy the coffee I gave you last night and this morning?”

  He smiled, “First of all, I did all the giving… let’s get that straight right off the bat. Secondly,” he kissed her forehead, “I’m talking about real coffee… you know, from Juan Valdez. Ground from coffee beans, brewed into a coffee pot. That coffee. You got any of that?”

  She chuckled, “Ah, that coffee. Yes. We have some. Come.”

  He pulled the towel from his naked body and stepped into his boxer briefs, squatting a little to adjust himself comfortably in the snug underwear.

  In the kitchen, they paused at the door. He rubbed her hair and whispered, “Are you sure we’re alone?”

  She shrugged. “What does it matter? We’re all adults here.”

  “But you’re virtually naked,” he said, looking at her bare breasts. The only article of clothing she had on was her thong.

  “So?” she said and walked to the Keurig, choosing a robust brew for Preston. She put the K-cup into the machine and placed Idris’ favorite mug unde
rneath.

  Preston sat at the table by the window, his legs spread wide, slouching his body slightly in order to lean comfortably in the modern-styled chair. Iris looked at him as the coffee dripped into the cup. He winked at her.

  When both cups finished brewing, she carefully sipped hers as she walked to the table and placed Preston’s cup in front of him. He held her hand and guided her onto his lap. Her breasts were almost level with his mouth. He kissed her breast and toyed with her nipple, flicking it with his tongue until it was hard. She set down her mug and wrapped her arms around his neck, shifting her body so she straddled his lap facing him, giving him full access to fondle her more purposefully. With both breasts in his hands, he kissed and licked and teased her until he felt a throbbing in his briefs.

  “Um… are you trying to start something here?”

  “You started it, woman, walking around in that thong, looking edible.”

  She threw back her hair and kissed his mouth roughly — biting his bottom lip.

  “Good morning,” Idris said as he entered the kitchen. “Don’t mind me. Just here for the coffee.”

  Preston was startled. He held Iris close to him to shield her nakedness, but she pushed away.

  “Hey Idris. This is Preston,” she said as she got up so that Idris could greet him.

  Embarrassed, Preston stood — with a solid erection —and shook Idris’ hand.

  “I didn’t know you were home,” she said, then kissed him on the mouth.

  “I just got here. I stayed out last night.”

  “What’s her name?” Iris pried.

  He grabbed the coffee that had just finished brewing. “Nice meeting you, Preston,” noticing Preston was drinking from his favorite mug. “Iris… none of your business.”

  “Likewise,” Preston said, looking at Iris.

  “What?”

  “What? What do you mean, what? You just stood here buck naked in front of your brother — and me, with my dick hard as hell…”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. He occasionally walks around naked, too.”