The Brute & The Blogger

by Olivia Gaines

  She attached it to an email sending it to four other non-profits in the city and hit ‘send’. In two weeks this would be over and she would start to write about something other than Boehner Enterprises and Tino.

  Thirty minutes later, Rodney found her, but she had moved from the patio couch to the one in the family room. She was sprawled on her back with her arm across her forehead, almost shielding her eyes.

  “What's going on with you, Blog Queen?”

  “I am dying a slow death,” she told him. She had not looked at him but her brother knew her well. He was only older by two years, and had always looked out for his little sister.

  “Is this about you and Tino Boehner?”

  She sat up on the couch looking at him with wide eyes. What did he know? Who told him? Had Tino reached out to my brother?

  Instead, she played coy, “What do you mean?”

  He sat on the couch and swung her feet around so he would have more room to sit. Rodney was a good sized man. He stood at about five foot nine and weighed a solid one seventy. He was all muscle. His dark skin was smooth and blemish free and he shared the same large eyes that were inherited from their mother that Ebony also had. Eyes that seemed to see everything; including what was troubling his sister.

  “I mean you are the dumbest smart person I know,” he said as he picked up the remote to turn on the game. For Rodney, it didn’t matter who was playing, or which sport was being played. He liked to watch anything where teams of men were chasing a ball and clobbering each other.

  He told her, “You have been sitting in your little room behind your computer pontificating and feeling powerful. He called your bluff and now you have to deal with the man face to face.”

  “I know...he is rattling my cage,” she told him with some hesitation in her voice.

  “I hear what you are not saying,” Rodney paused. “You like him don’t you?” There is was. Floating in the air like pollen in the Spring.

  “... And he likes me. A lot,” she said quietly. “I just don’t trust him. He is that guy, you know Rodney, the one who loves the chase...and I am not that kind of girl.”

  Rodney turned his head to look at her, “What kind of girl are you?”

  “I’m a nice girl!” She told him as she punched him in the arm.

  He was shaking his head, “No that is not what I meant.” He put down the remote and ceased his Sunday exercise routine of channel surfing. “Women don’t understand men. Yes, some like the chase, but every now and then, we like to be pampered as well. Why don’t you take him out to dinner? You pick him up, buy one of them goofy flowers for his lapel. Be clever...have some conversation cue cards to get to know him. I mean on a deeper level. Ask poignant questions which provoke thought and meaning, not what’s your favorite color.” He rolled his eyes up in his head. “I actually had a thirty five year old woman ask me that?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Who cares what my favorite color is...I am a grown ass man. Asking me how I like a woman to treat me is a more pressing question. You can look at what I wear and tell my favorite color.”

  Ebony agreed with him. If he was not in his brown delivery uniform, he was in some shade of blue. He had also given her something else to think about. She needed to get to know the real man.

  It was going to be the longest two weeks of her life, but she could get through this and in the interim, she was going to learn a great deal about Mr. Tino Boehner, COO of Boehner Enterprises.

  11. Making an offer

  The first few days were an exercise in restraint. Each time she spoke with Tino, it took a determined effort not to gaze at his crotch. A couple of times when he walked by, she found herself whispering, hey there big fella.

  It became a confounded irony when she sat at her desk trying to write about the many ways the company was giving back to the community, when her mind began to write metered stanzas. Dear Lord, I am writing poetry and we haven’t even gotten to second base. Technically, she had rounded the base, headed to second, but was brought up short with huge bat. Ebony was not a large woman. She gazed at her small wrist and looked down at her size seven feet. I cannot accommodate all of that. It didn’t stop her from wanting to try.

  By Wednesday, she was avoiding him altogether, something he pointed out. “Kitchen too hot for you Bloglady?”

  “No, you just like stirring the pot, you big brute,” she mumbled as she continued to the break area.

  On Thursday she got a call from a United Way partner who wanted to interview her right away. She set the appointment time for Friday afternoon. With any luck, she would wow the interviewer and get the job. More than anything, she wanted to get away from Tino. How can I dislike someone so much yet want to get naked with him at the same time?

  Friday was a tense day. Tino was tense. She was tense and it created a ripple effect through the office. She used an excuse of meeting Montrice for a site visit to escape the workplace. On the site visit, she used the excuse of a headache to leave for her interview. In an interview she was certain she had blown especially when Tino Boehner’s name came up. Ebony began to stammer over her words as if she had done something wrong or had been caught red handed about to commit a felony. At the end of the thirty-minute inquisition, she lumbered home to stand in her kitchen feeling sorry for herself. If I had some friends, now is when I would call one over.

  The doorbell rang and Ebony nearly jumped out of her skin. Whoever it was pressed and held the button until she looked through the peephole to see Tino standing there.

  “Whaddaya want?” She yelled through the door.

  “Open this damned door Ebony Miller,” he yelled at her.

  “Nope, you can’t make me, no matter how much you huff and puff,” she said with some amusement.

  “I have a whole damn construction team. I will blow this door down and call them to come and replace it. Now open it!” There was such command in his voice that she was turned on beyond measure.

  “I will open it only if you promise to behave,” she said.

  “I will do no such thing! You have until three,” he told her with a low growl.

  It was with some hesitation that she opened the door. He pushed it hard, nearly knocking her to the floor, but he caught her with his left hand and shut the door with his right foot.

  “Tino, what is the meaning of all of this?” She tried to pretend she didn’t know what it was about.

  “You are interviewing...you wore those damned jeans again, even when I asked you not to, and your last blog post included an original piece of poetry,” he said as he stared at her mouth.

  His hand was still holding her arm, as she told him, breathing hard from the excitement of his very alpha male approach to handling the matter, “I am not sure what you are taking from all of those random things.”

  “I am taking that you want me as much as I want you.” She looked down at the front of his pants and he wasn’t lying. Neither was her body because it was responding. He pulled her in close, loving the feel of her in his arms. He sighed deeply, “tell me what you want Ebony.” His mouth planted small kisses along her jawline, then the base of her neck.

  “Even if you just mumble yes, no, or maybe—I will know what to do,” he said as his mouth found hers. “Tell me how far I can go right now Ebony. I need you so much I am hurting,” he told her as his hands slid down her hips hooking his thumb in the waistband of her pants, tugging at the soft cotton of her panties.

  She tried to find the words as his lips pressed against hers, leaving only enough room her to mumble the word, “...maybe.”

  “Good enough for me,” he told her as he lifted her in his arms and headed towards the couch.

  “The door...lock the door,” she said as his hands fumbled behind him to flip the latch on the door, all the while holding her in his other arm.

  His hands, his mouth, his fingers were everywhere as he laid her upon the couch, partially trying to cover her body with his own. Ebony would not hear
of being in such a vulnerable position. She pushed at his chest until she was able to sit upright. If things were going further than she was comfortable with, that position would limit her chances to fight him off.

  “Fair enough,” he whispered as he pulled her to him so she straddled his lap. His mouth seeking hers again, with deep passionate kisses. His tongue, reminding her of things he wanted to do with her body. He pulled away to watch her face. Her eyes heavy with passion. He reached for her blouse to pull it over her head, but she stopped him. Tino kissed her again, slipping his hands under the soft fabric, his thumbs making contact with her bra, pressing against the straining buds.

  Ebony threw her head back at the sensations that were rippling through her body, letting a soft moan escape her lips. She cried out softly as she felt the warmth of his mouth against the material. Before she could say a word, he lifted the top, yanked the bra aside and plucked the nipple into his mouth. The sensations caused her to rock her pelvis against him.

  Her pelvis was moving faster as was his hands, which had come down to rest on her hips. Thick fingers pressed into the flesh of her buttocks encouraging her to move faster. Ebony’s hands were in his hair, trying to pull him closer, boosting the assault of his mouth on her breast. She was on fire and wanted more.

  So did Tino, who turned her on the couch and she found herself on her back. He moved over her, his mouth on her breast, her abdomen, pulling at her pants. She felt them coming over her hips and panic set in.

  “Stop,” she asked him.

  Tino’s movements slowed as he planted a small kiss on her belly. “Please, stop,” she asked again. “I am not going to sleep with you Tino.”

  Tino stood up, his need for her evident, yet he said nothing for a second. “I’m not planning to sleep.”

  The need in his eyes was more of a turn on than his touch. “Damn, I want you so bad, I could just...”

  Ebony bounded to her feet, “you could just what, Tino.”

  “I can almost taste you...” he said as he pulled her back into his arms and began to kiss her again. He whispered in her ear, “Would you like me to taste you? I will bring you pleasure...so much pleasure...”

  As he spoke, somehow Ebony’s hands ended up in his pants, touching him, stroking him, as he whispered sensuous words in her ear about how he would use his tongue to touch her in places... take her places... cry out his name in her pleasure. The more he talked the more she stroked. Harder. Faster. He was moving in her hand, his voice thick, husky...”Ebony, I need you.” He said in her ear.

  Then, he suddenly pulled away. The darkness in his eyes was more anger than passion now. “I get it now. You like yanking my chain don’t you?” He told her as he pulled her hands from inside his pants and straightened his clothing.

  “This isn’t a game. You are playing dirty and I don’t like it,” he told her as he walked towards the door. “I thought you were different.”

  He was gone. Ebony stood there, confused, angered and very frustrated. He thought I was different.

  Different from whom?

  12. The page break

  The final week at the office was very quiet. Tino avoided her and she stayed the hell out of his way. She completed all of the required articles and emailed them to him and never got a response. Wednesday the strain was taking its toll and several people inquired if Friday was her last day. It would seem many wanted it to be that very second.

  Jeremy came into her workspace, “Ebony, if you have wrapped up everything, you can leave and head back to your normal job.”

  It was official. Everyone in the office hated her. “Okay, just let me say goodbye to Mr. Boehner.”

  Jeremy’s hands flew up in the air as if she had asked to borrow a million dollars from him. “Not necessary. I will walk you out.”

  She was escorted out like a prostitute at bible study. No goodbye, no farewell, not even a screw you Ebony Miller. As she drove to her old job, she got a call from the United Way agency she interviewed with last week to say she had gotten the position. It felt like a weak victory.

  It felt even worse when she walked into her actual job and people refused to make eye contact with her. All of her belongings had been packed up and was sitting on her desk in a box. Jeff Greenblatt, her oversized boss, bounced his way over to her. “I hear congrats are in order on your new job! I took the liberty of packing up your belongings.” He handed her an envelope with two weeks’ severance pay. It was courtesy of Tino Boehner.

  “Am I being fired?” She wanted to know.

  “No, of course not, my dear. You interviewed for another job, which means you no longer want to be here. Since you got the job, we are just parting ways. You got what you wanted so we say goodbye on amicable terms,” he told her as he dropped the box into her arms.

  The feeble old man, who served as security for the building, showed up to walk her to the door. It was a dark day for Ebony, but she held her head up and left with dignity. There would be no blog post on this day in her life. She had completely run out of words to describe how horrible she was feeling.

  She needed to get away.

  A week or so at the beach would be perfect.

  13. Choking on a shrimp

  No one on his staff was sure if things were worse with Ebony in the office, or worse that she was not there. Tino was fit to be tied when he found out that Jeremy had asked her to leave. “You had no right to dismiss her with speaking with me first,” he yelled at his longtime friend.

  He was inconsolable when he called her job and found that Greenblatt had let her go. It was ten times more miserable for his staff when he went by her place on Thursday, she was not there. He went by again on Friday, three times and she was not there. He tried her cell and she would not answer.

  This feeling was worse than their last interaction. She held him in her hands, giving him pleasure, bringing him to the brink of explosion, and instead he imploded. Tino wanted to be with her and she had codified him by finding a middle ground. He wasn’t a middle ground kind of guy, wither you are all in, or get off the field.

  He checked her blog and there were no postings. His spirits were so low he checked her Facebook page and Instagram accounts. He even looked to see if she had a Pinterest. Why don’t I know more about her? Then it hit him. Maybe she wouldn’t make love to him because he didn’t know her. Ebony was different and he had been too brutish to see what she was trying to tell him. Yes, she was attracted to him, but she wasn’t going to fall into bed without knowing who she was with, and he had only shown her the business side of him.

  Tino lowered his head asking for another chance to get it right with a woman that set him on fire in more ways than one. She sparked his imagination and the banter between them was energetic. Ebony challenged him to be aware of the community and forced him to really look at what he was doing. Why hadn’t I noticed what I was doing with her?

  The speaker in his office buzzed, “Tino, I have a Rodney Miller here to see you.”

  What is this about?

  He walked to the front of the building to find the tall black man standing there, with large, intense eyes, wearing a blue shirt and deep charcoal gray pants. “I am Tino Boehner, how can I help you?”

  Rodney raised his hand to show him the keys, “My sister asked me to return these keys to you and the loaner vehicle.” He pointed to the parking lot. I never knew she had a brother.

  “What if I said I will not accept them from you that she has to return the keys and vehicle in person?”

  Rodney gave him the same look that Ebony often had before he shook his head and walked away, leaving out the front door as quietly as he arrived. The keys were left on the receptionist’s desk. Tino followed him out to the vehicle that was waiting for him. In his heart he had hoped it was her, but it wasn’t. It was some dude that gave him the stink eye. He felt like an addict that had made it to the 12th step and was ready to take a hit. Hell, he wanted to get tore down drunk, but he humbled himself.

  “Rodn
ey,” he said as the man turned around. He looked her brother squarely in the eyes as he confessed, “I miss her.”

  Rodney stood staring at him. Tino looked so pitiful. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did. “Darlings by the Sea. Kure Beach,” and he climbed in the car and they drove away.

  I have no idea what that is, but I am going to find out.

  It only took Tino an hour to locate the seaside lodge, and another to pack an overnight bag and start driving. He only hoped and prayed that when he got there, she hadn’t left already. It was nearly four hours from Raleigh to Kure Beach which was right outside of Wilmington North Carolina. Tish located the beach front bed and breakfast that was catered to lovers and booked him a room.

  An hour into his drive he began to second guess himself. What if she was away with someone? I never asked if she was seeing anyone. Two hours into the drive he told himself he was a fool. The third hour he began practicing what he would say to her and by the time he reached his destination, he was back to being angry at Ebony for making him chase her. He was grateful that Tish had done her homework and when he walked in the door, he was greeted by the Innkeeper, Jim, who warmly welcomed him to Darlings.

  Tino fell right into the role, “Jim. I hope you can help me. My Baby, left me a cryptic note and she had been hinting about this place, so I hope I didn’t drive the four hours for nothing. Her name is Ebony Miller.”

  Jim looked suspicious, but luckily for him, the perky receptionist informed him, “She just went down to grab a bike to go for a ride,” she said to him.

  Tino handed her his overnight bag, “Thank you. Will you please put this in our room?”

  He gave neither of them a chance to speak as he made his way down the stairwell in the direction the young woman was pointing. Jim didn’t buy his act and he followed him down the stairs as well.

  “Ebony?” He called her name.