by Zuri Day
34
Eden exited the shower to the sound of her ringing cell phone. She quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her as she dashed for the bedroom.
“Well, girl, how was it?” Phyllis asked after her daughter had answered the phone.
“I think I’ve found my dream job,” Eden answered. She put her mom on speakerphone and dressed in stretch pants and an oversize T-shirt. “Everyone was friendly and helpful, and I think Dr. K and I will get along well.”
“Hmmm, tell me about this doctor.”
Eden had purposely avoided telling her mother of her and Jansen’s burgeoning relationship. The last thing she needed was her mom, and her busybody friend Kathryn, Jansen’s mom, putting their heads together and trying to orchestrate their children’s future.
“His name is Alexander Kostopoulos. He’s professionally trained as a medical doctor but is now combining his knowledge of alternative medicine, namely eastern traditions, into his healing solutions. He’s the resident doctor at the center, even though he maintains patients at one of the local hospitals.”
“Is he good-looking?”
“He looks all right.”
“How does ‘all right’ look?” It was obvious that Eden’s nonchalance hadn’t convinced her mother.
“He’s an attractive man, Mom. Around six feet tall, black hair, green eyes. But my interest in him begins and ends at the office. I’m not about to jeopardize what I feel to be an amazing career opportunity with an office fling.”
“Oh, so he’s available?”
“Mom! This was my first day on the job. I didn’t ask the man for his personal résumé.”
“Hmph. And I thought I raised you right.” The women shared a laugh. “What about Jansen. Have you seen him lately?”
“On Labor Day. Michael didn’t tell you he was at the barbecue?” Eden knew Phyllis’s propensity for playing ignorant with one child to get info from the other, which was why early on Eden had asked her brother to remain mum on her and Jansen’s dating status.
“Oh, yes,” Phyllis said, nonplussed. “Now that you mention it, Michael did mention Jansen being there. He didn’t say with whom, though. . . .”
“Speaking of dates, how goes it with you and Larry?” Eden felt it was time to get her mother out of her business and back into her own.
“So far, so good. I didn’t know how much I’d missed having a man around until I had one around again.”
The two women conversed for another few moments. Eden looked at the clock, surprised that it was already eight o’clock. She was definitely going to have to get back into the groove of an eight-hour-plus workday. “Mom, let’s finish catching up this weekend. I haven’t eaten dinner and want to make it an early night.”
“Dress to impress tomorrow, and learn your boss’s marital status. Sometimes what you’re looking for is right beneath your nose.”
Instead of responding, Eden ended the call. “Love you, Mom. Bye.” She immediately dialed Jansen. “Hey, you.”
“’Bout time you called.”
Eden ignored Jansen’s possessive nature and continued to flirt. “You miss me, baby?”
“I’d ask you the same question, except if that were true, you’d have your sexy self over here instead of making me hard over the phone.”
“Sounds tasty.”
“You know it is. So are you coming here, or am I coming to you?”
Eden noted that Jansen’s question assumed that getting together was a foregone conclusion. She couldn’t blame him. Aside from the three days he’d spent in Chicago, attending his comrade’s funeral and visiting with friends, they’d been together every night.
“Today was my first day at work,” she began after a pause. “Considering the fact that I’ve been a lady of leisure for a month, it was pretty exhausting.”
“I know it was your first day, baby. That’s why I’ve got a massage with your name on it, among other things.” Jansen’s voice was low, sexy, causing squiggles in Eden’s stomach and beyond.
“Your offer is extremely tempting, Jansen. But I won’t get the eight hours of sleep I need with you beside me. Can I make it up to you some other time?”
“Some other time . . . like tomorrow, right? You know my appetite, baby. It’s ferocious.”
Memories of said appetite caused Eden to shudder. “Tomorrow, baby. My place, okay?”
Eden hung up the phone, ate a light dinner, and checked her e-mails. At a little after nine she changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, planning to watch a half hour or so of television and call it a night. She’d just settled into an episode of HGTV’s House Hunters when her cell phone rang. She took a look at the number. It wasn’t one she recognized. After a seconds-long debate about whether to answer, she accepted the call.
“Eden, it’s Alex.”
“Dr. K?”
“Forgive my calling after hours, but I have some quick thoughts on the outline you sent. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” Eden listened to the easy lilt of his European accent, remembered the crooked smile and deep green eyes, and heard her mother’s words echo in her head.. . . Learn your boss’s marital status. Sometimes what you’re looking for is right beneath your nose.
35
Eden stood inside her walk-in closet and pondered her options. The Zen Den’s dress was decidedly casual, yet, as director of the facility, Eden chose to maintain a somewhat professional appearance. Yesterday she’d worn a light blue, cotton pantsuit paired with low heels. Today she vacillated between a tan, wide-legged pantsuit and a silk wrap dress. She decided on the latter, wore her hair down and lightly turned under, and opted for open-toed sandals instead of pumps. She sprayed on a light, floral cologne, grabbed her briefcase and laptop, and was out the door. Her official hours were nine to five, but old habits died hard. When working on the Hill, Eden routinely arrived a half hour or more early for work. She pulled into the parking space leased by the Zen Den at 8:35.
A shiny black Prius pulled up right beside her SUV. Alex emerged from the vehicle, looking more like a GQ model than an MD. Instead of what Eden assumed were trademark black jeans, today he wore a casual black suit, the accompanying stark white shirt open at the collar, revealing olive skin deeply tanned by the sun. The dark aviator sunglasses and five-o’clock shadow on his chin gave him a roguish air. He doesn’t come close to Jansen, Eden mused as he walked to open her car door. But he does look good.
“Thank you and good morning,” Eden said, easing out of her car.
“An early bird, I see,” Alex answered. “Just like me.”
“This isn’t something you should get used to, necessarily. But it’s nice to feel on top of things while getting my feet wet.”
I’d like to get on top of you . . . and get wet. “You look nice today, Eden. I like your hair down.”
“Yes, well, don’t get used to this either, Dr. K. The ponytail/bun thing is more my style.”
“Please, call me Alex.” He unlocked the main door and then held it while Eden entered. “Are you a coffee or tea person?”
“Neither this morning. I had a protein smoothie before leaving home. But when I need a lift, I normally reach for green or chai tea.”
“I love Starbucks’s soy chai lattes.”
“Me, too! And what about the new soy strawberry frappes?”
The two conversed easily until they reached the kitchen. Alex stepped inside, and Eden continued to her office. A few moments later, Alex knocked on her door. They spent the next half hour finishing up the fifteen-minute conversation from the previous night and sharing marketing strategies that would appeal to both mainstream and avante-garde audiences. Later Eden wouldn’t remember how the fact that Alex was divorced, with a seventy-five-year-old mother whom he visited regularly in his native Greece, came up. When Ariel arrived, talk of favorite eateries led to the three of them deciding to dine at RFD. At the end of the day, when Alex suggested a glass of wine at Chaya, it seemed a logical conclusion to the end of a
productive day.
There was the old saying “Time flies when you’re having fun” and such was the case with Eden. She only became aware that it was seven-thirty PM, almost three hours past quitting time, when, amid a peal of laughter, she answered her phone. “Hello?”
“Well, it sounds like somebody is having a good time.”
Oh, shoot. “Jansen, where are you?”
“Where I said I’d be about now. In front of your house.” Pause. “Where are you?”
“On my way. Just leaving work. See you in ten minutes.”
36
As she headed toward Santa Monica, Eden saw the thundercloud brewing beyond the mountains. It bore Jansen’s face. She’d assumed he would phone her when he was on his way over. But when it came to men, experience should have taught her what happened when one assumed. Things ended badly.
I’m not going to participate in his attitude, she silently affirmed. Just do you, Eden. Peace and love. Just do you. She saw Jansen’s truck as soon as she pulled up to her condo, waved, and continued to the parking lot. She exited her car, came around to the front to let him in, and greeted him with a hug. “Sorry I’m late, baby. Time got away from me.”
Jansen hugged her and then stepped away, doing a slow perusal from head to toe. “You look nice,” he said, his eyes narrowed, mind churning. “Real nice.”
“Thank you.” Eden’s answer was as light as her step as she turned and walked toward the stairs.
“Smell good, too,” Jansen observed, along with the sway of Eden’s booty-licious as she mounted the stairs in front of him.
Eden turned and gave him a killer smile. “All for you, baby.”
They reached her condo and went inside. Eden sat down her computer and briefcase and then turned to face Jansen. “You look good, too,” she whispered before raising up on her tiptoes and planting a juicy kiss on his succulent lips. When she would have ended it, he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the exchange. His fingers became lost in her hair, his free hand searching for bare flesh but instead coming in contact with soft silk. He eased his tongue out of her mouth, placed whispery kisses along her cheek and jawline, and then reached for her hand and walked them to the couch. “So . . . tell me about this job, love.”
Eden removed her shoes, plopped on the couch, and placed her feet underneath her. Her eyes sparkled with unabashed excitement as she leaned into Jansen’s embrace. “Jansen, I think I’m going to love this job.”
“That’s good.”
Eden shared the basics of what her job entailed, as well as some of the characters who made up the Zen Den. “Instead of calling us staff, they refer to us as ‘community members,’ ” Eden said, using air quotes for emphasis. “Only my second day there, and it already feels like family. I can see myself growing with this company, baby. I submitted a very rough outline of my plans for the center to Alex, and he is just as excited as I am.”
Jansen had been idly rubbing Eden’s arm, but at the mention of another man, his movement stopped. “Who’s Alex?”
Don’t go there with him, Eden. Remember, peace and love. “Alex Kostopoulos, my boss, and the center’s resident physician.”
“Uh-huh. Is he the reason you dressed so sexy for your nine-to-five, and why you forgot there was another man waiting for you to come home?”
Eden sat straight and put distance between them. “Jansen, don’t do this. Dr. K is my boss—”
“Oh, so now he’s Dr. K, when a second ago he was Alex. Y’all on a first-name basis already?”
“I am not going down this road with you.” Eden stood and walked out of the living room and into her bedroom.
“Why?” Jansen asked, following. “Is it because you’ve started down the road with somebody else?”
“Can you hear yourself?” In spite of her resolve to stay calm and peaceful, she felt her heartbeat increasing, her voice rising. “Obviously not, because if you could, you’d realize how stupid you sound.”
Jansen’s volume rose as well. “Oh, so one day in the presence of the good doctor, and the policeman is stupid. Is that how it goes down?”
In seconds, calm and peaceful had a fight with pissed off, and lost. “Are you kidding me? Did you really say what I just heard?” Eden headed for the closet. “You’re a piece of work, Jansen McKnight,” she continued from inside it, peeling off her dress and taking off her jewelry. “If all you came over here to do was piss me off, mission accomplished. I don’t need—no, I won’t stand for this drama in my life.” She marched out of her closet clad in panties and bra. “I don’t know if this possessiveness is an alpha male or Scorpio or McKnight attribute, but it isn’t cute. When I’m with someone, it’s one at a time. I’m in a work environment where there are men. I interact with them, go to lunch with them, and, yes, share a glass of wine with them after work. I really like this job and plan to keep it. So if you have a problem with anything I just said, let’s end this now and go our separate ways. I don’t have the time or patience for your bullshit, Jansen McKnight.” Eden ended her tirade winded, fists clenched, chest heaving.
Jansen had endured this verbal assault with legs spread, arms crossed. Now he moved toward her with the stealth of a panther. “Oh, no?” he asked, his voice a deadly whisper. His eyes had darkened to an eerie black, and were it possible for his shoulders to become broader, chest to become wider, and legs to become longer . . . they had done so. Eden took a step back as he continued his approach, but he stayed her with a sure, strong hand. “So you don’t have time for my bullshit, huh? Well, do you have time for this?”
With a singular movement, Jansen both closed the two feet between them and wrapped her in his arms. His mouth came down on hers: hard, heavy, demanding, relentless. Eden’s impulse was to fight him, and she briefly tried to wriggle out of his arms. But then instinct took over—noted the hardness of his muscled chest, the sinewy strength of his toned biceps, the hardening shaft announcing its intent. Jansen’s hands lowered, sculpted themselves to her cheeks, and pressed her firmly against him. Her nipples pebbled with excitement, the familiar tingling spreading from her core to the apex at her thighs.
“Jansen.” The whispered name held urgency and understanding.
“Baby,” he answered, his hands roaming over as much flesh as they could reach. He slipped fingers inside her lacy thong, found her treasure, rubbed her to wetness. “This is mine, girl. Anybody out there trying to get at it . . .” Jansen dropped to his knees and pressed his face into the furnace of her desire. His tongue was rough and strong, the fabric between it and its goal causing a delicious friction.
“Mmmm,” Eden breathed but could say no more.
Still on his knees, Jansen backed her up, pinned her against the wall. He spread her legs and reclaimed the territory his mouth had known just seconds before. Eden’s thighs trembled; she grabbed on to Jansen’s shoulders for support. He placed a strong hand under her thigh and lifted her leg. She felt vulnerable, totally exposed, and excited beyond belief. Jansen nipped and kissed the insides of her thighs before moving aside the lace with his tongue. Eden emitted a shout when his soft, wet oral instrument made contact with her budding flower. Remnants of Kory’s song ran through Eden’s mind as she succumbed to the mind-numbing pleasure of Jansen’s magical tongue on her pulsating paradise. He licked, sucked, kissed, tugged. She went crazy, stroke by stroke. Just as she felt the rumblings of a cataclysmic climax, Jansen stopped. Eden’s legs buckled, and she slid to the floor.
Jansen reached into his shorts pocket and then hurriedly shed both them and the white tee he wore, sans underwear. His sword stood at attention, ready for battle. He handed the condom to Eden. “Put it on,” he quietly commanded.
Eden complied. In a moment of sheer wantonness, she ripped the thin rubber from its plastic encasement and edged it up his shaft with her mouth. Jansen grabbed the back of her head, moaning her name over and again. The moment she’d shielded him completely, he dropped down, covered her, and took her right there on the bedroom fl
oor. It was raw and nasty and sexy and beautiful—Jansen and Eden dancing the dance to the song they knew best, the tune they grooved to most perfectly. For twenty, thirty minutes, they remained lost in its melody. But every song has an ending, and theirs was no different. Eden cried out her release. Jansen growled his agreement. They lay sweaty and spent atop the Persian rug that covered the area around Eden’s bed, the silence punctuated only by their breathing.
Eden prepared to rise, but Jansen stopped her. “I couldn’t wait to be here, feel you in my arms.”
“I’m uncomfortable, Jansen,” Eden answered. And it has nothing to do with our being on the floor.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” Jansen hurriedly rose, bringing Eden with him. Again he reached to place his arms around her.
“Baby, let me use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
Eden hurried into the room and closed the door. She ran cold water, splashed her face, and looked in the mirror. A troubled expression looked back at her. As always, Jansen had loved her ferociously and tenderly at the same time. She’d experienced multiple orgasms, screaming, so intense was the pleasure. Then what is wrong, Eden? She gazed at her reflection. Why don’t you feel good now?
As Eden soaped her towel and washed herself, the answers came. And then one final question. What are you going to do about it?
37
“Jansen, we need to talk.” Eden had walked out of the bathroom, gone straight to the closet, and donned her favorite fluffy cotton robe before she spoke. Now she stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on the perfection that lounged across her bed in black boxers.
“Come here, baby,” Jansen whispered.
“I prefer the living room.” Eden walked out without waiting for an answer. She went into the kitchen, put on water for tea, and tried to calm her suddenly jittery nerves. She knew where this reaction was coming from and was determined to push past the fear. She took a breath, squared her shoulders, and walked into the living room, or lion’s den, depending on one’s point of view.
