A Kiss of a Different Color

by Bettye Griffin

  She turned over on her stomach and went back to sleep.

  Jon awoke a little after eight. He and Miranda had moved apart in their time of sleep, but the sub-zero temperatures of the night cold brought them back to each other’s arms. In the light of day she looked beautiful, her skin glowing and blemish-free, her hair spread out in a haphazard but becoming fashion over her pillow. And, best of all, he knew she was naked under the heavy down quilt.

  He lifted the linens and took a peek at her well-proportioned, slim body and those impossibly long, shapely legs. His morning erection made like a proverbial Mexican jumping bean at the sight of her. It was almost enough to make him forget about what happened at the bar last night.

  Jon knew his complaint was reminiscent of that old-time comedian who used to bemoan that he never got any respect, but he was getting tired of every black man he encountered feeling that he had a right to make a play for Miranda and ignore the fact that she was with him simply because they were of the same race.

  Technically, it wasn’t really accurate to say that only African-American men looked at her. She’d captured plenty of admiring glances at the company Christmas party. Even that jerk Ralph Holm, who couldn’t quite cover the fact that he had wanted the director position Jon was ultimately hired for, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her.

  The next evening Miranda watched as Jon expertly stir fried the shrimp and scallops for their dinner. “I confess I’ve never been much for cooking.”

  He removed the wok from the flame and scooped the seafood into a bowl.

  “Well, that’s all right, considering you’re good at other things. Like this.” He startled her by pulling her into an embrace and doing a few impromptu steps to a tango in the spacious kitchen, turning his mouth into an instrument and making sounds to the tune of Hernando’s Hideaway from the musical The Pajama Game. He backed her into a wall of cabinets. “Anybody who dances like you do can be forgiven for not knowing much about cooking,” he said before lowering his head to plant a light kiss on her mouth. “I’ll be happy to teach you a few culinary skills.”

  “You’re always teaching me things, Jon. Maybe it’s time I taught you something for a change.”

  Jon looked at her with a solemn expression and said, “Maybe you already have,” before kissing her again, this time in earnest.

  As Miranda returned his kiss she wondered what he meant, but she also knew him well enough not to ask.

  Whatever it was, if and when he wanted to tell her, he would.

  Jon’s breaths came out in rapid, shallow bursts as he propelled his body into Miranda’s. He had never felt anything so intense in his life. Miranda, lying beneath him, her thighs tucked against his torso, moaned as she rocked her pelvis forward and back again. She threw her hands above her head and clutched at the sheets as he gave her all he had. When she began to lift her hands, he reached out and pressed his palm atop them, holding them in place. He normally wasn’t one to restrict a woman’s movements, but he loved the way Miranda elongated her body because her hands were over her head, loved the way she arched her back as she met him thrust for thrust. She was as lithe as a cat.

  While keeping the furious pace, Jon lowered his head to give her a wet and sloppy kiss. The feel of her tongue on his lips was almost more than he could bear. His heart thumped in his chest, and he slipped his palms under her back and pressed her to him as he rolled over, putting her on top of him. Miranda promptly started to move her hips up and down on his erection, but he reached out and grasped the fleshy cheeks of her butt, holding her in place, and thrust upward in a deliberately slow stroke, filling her an inch at a time, then out and then in again. Miranda responded by throwing her head back and crying out in a quivering voice.

  Jon grunted as he alternately plunged inside her warm, wet cave and then pulled back. His fingers kneaded her flesh, and her breasts heaved with her heavy breathing, her nipples elongated in excitement. His eyes took in every jut and bounce. Then, as if reading his mind, Miranda leaned forward, and just like that, her breasts were inches from his face. He raised his head off the pillow as far as he could and stretched his tongue to feast on their fullness, those distended nipples, all the while holding her hips locked around his groin. His toes wiggled backward.

  He loved making love to Miranda.

  He loved those long and shapely legs that he’d noticed from their very first meeting.

  He loved the hourglass indentation of her waist.

  He loved her backside, so full and round.

  He loved her teardrop-shaped breasts, so full as he viewed them from below, with their dark, round areolae and chocolate drop nipples.

  He loved the taste of her essence.

  He loved the way the contours of her body fit to his, as if they were two pieces to a broken key.

  He loved the squeals of delight she made when his hands touched her body.

  And suddenly he knew without a doubt…

  He loved her.

  Afterward, they cuddled together in the center of the bed and prepared to go to sleep. “Miranda, are you really dead set against flying?”

  She grunted. “I’m not crazy about the idea, no. The memory of that flight to Minneapolis is going to be with me for a long, long time, Jon. We both had to get good and buzzed before getting on that return flight.”

  “And you held my hand the whole time,” he recalled. “I thought it was cute.”

  “That’s because the flight took less than an hour. You wouldn’t have felt that way if we’d been flying to London.” She sighed. “You’re thinking about St. Croix, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. You didn’t seem to enthusiastic about it the first time I brought it up.”

  “Jon, I love the idea of going in the Caribbean with you, but I’m just afraid to fly.”

  “I talked to Garrett the other day, and he said he’s got some open time the last week in April, a couple of weeks after Easter. I’d like to take you down there for a week. We can celebrate our birthdays.” They’d made the discovery that their birthdays were only three days apart, Miranda’s on the twenty-sixth and Jon’s on the twenty-ninth.

  “You want to take me there?”

  “Yeah, courtesy of my bonus. All you have to do is get the time off from work.” He stroked her arm. “It’ll be fun, Legs. We can jet ski, wind surf, scuba dive…they’ve got fabulous coral reefs down there. Garrett’s place is right on the beach. It’s a series of attached bungalows. There’s not a lot of night life there, but he tells me there’s a nice private lanai. Think of it, Legs. We can make love under the stars.”

  The thought brought a smile to Miranda’s lips, but it faded as she considered the timing of the trip and she took a deep breath, her body having gone stiff as a corpse. “I have to know something, Jon. Do you see this as a sort of farewell gift to me for spending the winter with you?”

  Chapter 26

  Jon had been lying on his back, one hand resting on his ribcage and the other draped around her shoulder as she lay on her side facing him. At her question he rolled to his side, the front of his body flush with the front of hers. “I guess I deserved that,” he said slowly. “I know I’ve given you every reason to think that we’d go our separate ways when spring came. I’m not a callous person, Miranda. It’s just that none of my relationships have lasted more than six months. I thought that was the way it would always be, but with you it’s different, for the first time ever.”

  Life oozed back into her body as a delicious tingling began to spread throughout her, and she inadvertently stretched, wiggling her toes.

  “This is all new for me, and I can’t explain it.” That wasn’t entirely true, but his feelings were so new he wasn’t ready to share them with her yet. He needed to make sure it was real, and he had no basis for comparison. “All I know is that I absolutely don’t want you to walk out of my life.”

  Their faces drew closer together, and Miranda’s arms looped around his neck. Their bodies pressed close together as they
kissed, sweetly at first, then with a growing hunger. His erection swelled against her belly, and he reached between her thighs and stroked her feminine core, finding her moist and ready for him. Miranda moaned into his mouth, urging him on. He reached for a condom, applied it in just seconds. Then he quickly rolled her onto her back, positioned her ankles on his shoulders, and slipped his erection inside her. She absorbed him like a sponge, and it didn’t take long for both of them to climax.

  “We are so incredibly good together,” he drawled as he buried his face in the junction where her neck blended into her collarbone.

  Head back and eyes closed, Miranda savored his embrace. “Mmm. Let’s just hope we can survive my parents’ visit in March.”

  It made Miranda happy to hear her mother speak with such enthusiasm about visiting North Dakota.

  “Travis said you guys stayed at a nice hotel when you got into town, but he can’t remember the name,” Geraldine said.

  “Yes, it was that chain you and Pop like so much. It was a very nice place, but Mom, you won’t need a hotel room. You and Daddy can stay right here at my place.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Miranda, but your place is all one big room, and your father and I do like to have, uh, a little privacy when we travel.”

  Miranda wrinkled her nose. Her parents were healthy, vital people in their upper fifties, and while she was happy for that, she nonetheless felt a little squeamish about any reference to their sex life, no matter how veiled.

  “I understand that, Mom,” she said, “but it’ll be okay. I spoke to Chelsea. You guys can stay here at the house. I’ll stay at Jon’s.” She waited, knowing her mother would have questions.

  “Is that something you do often?” she asked in a carefully casual tone.

  “Just about every weekend, Mom.”

  Her mother certainly seemed accepting enough, saying a simple, “I see. Well, is it serious between you two?”

  Miranda sighed. “We’re just having fun. Isn’t that what life’s all about?”

  “I’m just glad to hear that you’ve met such nice people out here.”

  “And I’m looking forward to having you and Daddy meet them.”

  Miranda was cooing over the latest pictures of her two-month-old nephew, whom she hadn’t yet seen, when Chelsea knocked on the wall at the top of the stairs, her usual way of asking permission to enter Miranda’s space. “Come on down, Chelsea,” she called out.

  Her landlady came down and introduced herself to Miranda’s parents. They exchanged the usual pleasantries, and then Chelsea said, “I’m not going to stay; I just wanted to say hello. You guys have fun tonight, and please give Jae and Brian my regards.”

  “Will do,” Miranda replied. “Thanks for stopping by, Chelsea.”

  “Sure. Mr. and Mrs. Rhett, you be sure to let me know if you need anything.”

  “We will,” Carlton replied. “And we appreciate your allowing Geral and I stay here. That was very generous, considering we’re strangers to you.”

  “Any parents of Miranda’s are A-OK with me,” Chelsea said with a grin. “Not only is she a dream tenant, but she introduced me to a wonderful man.” Chelsea was madly in love with the man she’d met at Jae and Brian’s Halloween party last fall. “Of course,” she added, “she’s not doing badly in that department herself. But she saw Jon first.”

  They all laughed, and then Chelsea excused herself.

  “Nice girl,” Geraldine remarked. “Pretty, too.”

  “All I know is that it was really nice of her to let us stay here,” Carlton said. “You can’t be too careful about who you give the keys to your house to these days.”

  “I figured all she could do was say no when I asked her,” Miranda said. “She’s very sweet. It’s safe to say we’ve become friends, and we help each other out when we can. A couple of weeks ago I brought her over to the ER when she was having some abdominal pain, and when I had the sniffles she made me some chicken and rice soup. Last fall I invited her to come along to a Halloween party some friends of mine gave. That’s where she met her boyfriend. They’ve been together ever since.”

  “I’m glad it all worked out for you,” Geraldine replied. “I can’t tell you how worried I was that she might not want to rent to you once she saw you were black.”

  “She was probably glad to get any renter who passed the background and credit check,” Carlton said. “That young lady took on a big responsibility, buying this house by herself, foreclosure or no. All she needed was someone clean and quiet to take some of the financial stress off her. She couldn’t have found a better tenant than you, honey.”

  Miranda beamed. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “Miranda, I hope your friends didn’t go through too much trouble, having us over to dinner,” her mother said.

  “Brian and Jae do a fair amount of entertaining, so no, I’d say it was no trouble for them. They even have a round formal dinner table because Jae said that conversation doesn’t break up into groups the way it does when people are sitting at a rectangular one.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to meeting them tonight…and to seeing Jon, too.”

  “Mama, he’s looking forward to seeing you again, as well.”

  Miranda noticed her father looking about at the multicultural faces who sat around the Gallagher’s round dinner table, enjoying mixed paella made with both meat and seafood, flavored with saffron, along with salad and big, fluffy biscuits. The captivated look on his face told her he found it fascinating.

  “I have to say this is pretty remarkable,” he said as he took in all of those present: Jae and Brian, Monthani, Henry and Kathy Tai, and of course her and Jon. “Look at all of us, representing the three major groups. I have to say, it does my heart good. I kind of feel like I’m at the United Nations,” he joked.

  “I’ve been divorced for many years, Carlton,” Monthani said, “but my ex and I were another interracial couple.”

  “Are there many Asians here in Bismarck?” Geraldine inquired.

  “I think this is it,” Monthani replied, making a sweeping gesture of the table, and they all laughed.

  “I don’t think they’ve ever seen any Asians in person in some parts of the state,” Brian remarked. “Do you guys remember what happened when we went to that restaurant up in Bottineau?”

  Miranda held her hand up and waved from side to side. “Jae and I were so bad, I’m embarrassed to even repeat what we did.”

  “Hey, you can’t leave us hanging like that,” Henry protested. “Tell, tell.”

  Miranda’s parents urged her on, but she steadfastly refused to talk. Jae attempted to tell the story, but became consumed by laughter and was unable to continue.

  Jon took the mantle, describing the curious stares they had received and how Miranda and Jae deliberately kissed each other in front of the diners.

  They all laughed, and Geraldine remarked, “The funny thing is that there’s no majority at this table. Of the nine of us, we’re evenly divided, three black, three white, three Asian.”

  Everyone promptly looked around, murmuring agreement when they saw that was the precise breakdown.

  Jon reached for the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. “It looks like we need another bottle, this one’s nearly empty.”

  “I’ll get it,” Brian volunteered, placing a halting arm on Jae’s forearm before she could rise.

  Brian returned with a freshly opened bottle. He started to fill Jae’s glass, abruptly righting the bottle when she made a funny noise in her throat.

  For the first time Miranda noticed her friend’s wineglass sat empty. “Jae, aren’t you drinking tonight?”

  “Not tonight. For some reason I can’t seem to get enough water.” Jae and Brian shared a private smile, and at that moment both Kathy and Monthani drew in their breath.

  “You’re pregnant!” they exclaimed simultaneously.

  Jae and Brian looked at each other, then broke out into giggles. “I told you they would notice,” Jae said to her hu
sband.

  “It’s true, then?” Miranda asked, looking from one to the other. “You guys are having a baby?”

  Jae nodded happily. “It was just confirmed the day before yesterday. We weren’t going to say anything until after I got into my second trimester.” She giggled. “I’m just one month. So much for keeping a secret.”

  Everyone offered hearty congratulations to the expectant parents. Jon raised his newly filled wineglass. “Here’s to Little Jon Lindbergh Gallagher.”

  Brian choked on his wine, then quickly took another sip to flush his esophagus. “I don’t know about that, Jon.”