by Suzie Nelson
“Me too. I hope we both live to 100.” He squeezed her hand.
They were driving to Brooklyn and staying the weekend at Leffert’s Bed & Breakfast. What Alicia didn’t know was that Ian bought out all the rooms so they could be alone. It took less than an hour to get there; they were smart to leave before rush hour really got bad.
Ian and Alicia were personally greeted by Mr. Leffert, who said that the kitchen was open to them 24/7, and breakfast would be served on the mezzanine at 9:30 am. Then he left.
“What room are we in? He didn’t say when he gave you the key.”
“I bought the whole place for the weekend. All the rooms are ours. Come on, let’s go check them out.”
“Let’s start with The Osborne. That’s got the king bed.”
Ian and Alicia went to the room and smiled. The room was quaint and very quiet. The bathroom had a claw foot tub.
“I know you don’t like baths, but we are getting in there this weekend.”
“Whatever,” said Ian as he took Alicia’s hand and guided her to the bed. He sat her down and unzipped her boots, very slowly, and removed them, rubbing her feet and kissing her toes.
“Ian.”
Ian put his index finger on Alicia’s mouth, and she took it. She put it in her mouth, and sucked on it. Ian sighed with pleasure.
He continued to undress his love, slowly unzipping her True Religion skinny jeans. He lay her down on the bed, pulled the jeans off, and lightly touched her thighs, hips, and tummy with his fingers. He helped her sit up again and unbuttoned her silk blouse and slowly removed it, again teasing her by lightly touching the outline of her bra. He looked at her and she whispered, “36DDD,” reading his mind. Alicia smiled and touched Ian’s chest.
He moved her hand back to the bed and smiled. He went back to his tease and unhooked her bra, slowly taking it off. She was wearing her black lace panties and nothing else. She was so horny, she thought she might have an orgasm just sitting there. She was so not in control and didn’t care one bit.
Ian had Alicia’s nipples hurting - they were so hard. Then he took a step back. He smiled his unbelievable crooked sexy, sideways smile and slowly stripped for her…Gucci slip-ons, a Versace sweatshirt, then finally, his Dolce &Gabbana jeans. He unzipped them and she finally saw his hard dick.
Once he was completely naked, he kneeled in front of her. “What do you want? How can I make you come again and again and again? Tell me.”
“Eat me. Lick my ass. And fuck me until I beg you to stop.”
Ian was a beast. He used his mouth to rip Alicia’s panties off. He pushed her on the bed and massaged her breasts and he sucked on her clitoris, put his tongue in and out as fast as he could. He tasted her orgasm and sucked her until he felt her coming again. Then he stood up and flipped her over, pulling her into a doggie position. She was still moaning from the last orgasm when he began sucking the insides of her thighs and tickling her anus with his fingers. She was so turned on, she began screaming.
“Oh God! That’s fucking incredible! Please, Ian! It’s so unbelievable!”
He turned her over and smiled. “I noticed you didn’t ask me to stop. Thank you because now I am going to make love to you so slowly and so sensually that you will scream for me to stop.”
“I love you, Ian. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“Close your eyes and let me make your dreams always feel this good. Ian spent nearly 30 minutes inserting his penis inside her…just the tip, as deep as he could, slowly, softly, with heavy thrusts, stopping and waiting for her to ask for more. After she had three more orgasms, each more intense, she finally begged him.
“Oh Ian, I want to feel your orgasm inside me. I want you to come and come and come. What do you want from me? Anything? Please come inside me.”
“Will you turn around and hold on to the headboard? I want to be inside you and feel your fucking beautiful ass on my stomach.”
Alicia knelt on the mattress and spread her arms on the top of the headboard. Ian slowly put himself inside her again as he spread her butt cheeks apart. He held her breasts as he moaned with pleasure. Alicia knew he was having an orgasm and she began lifting herself up and down, squeezing her pussy as tight as she could. When Ian thought he was done, Alicia began gyrating, making him hard again instantly.
“Come again, my love. Make me come too.”
Alicia turned around and sat on Ian, moving so sumptuously, Ian was saying, “My God! Stop! No, don’t stop! Alicia.”
They held each other and moved like they were one object. They both shared an orgasm that left them out of breath, sweaty, and more sexually satisfied than either had ever imagined.
Chapter 14
Alicia and Ian slept until nearly 11:00 pm. They went to the kitchen and made a cheese, cracker, and fruit plate. They left The Osborne a mess and slept in the Rose Room.
The next morning, the Lefferts served breakfast and Ian and Alicia asked them to join them. It was an enjoyable conversation. They told them they didn’t need breakfast tomorrow because it was “meet the family” day. The Lefferts knew the Stringers; they even had their deli menu brochures with other things to do while at the B&B.
Alicia promised Ian she would show him the area, the deli, her schools, and other places that were part of her growing up.
It was a bit after noon, and neither of them was hungry because they had such a big breakfast. So, they walked along Atlantic Avenue, an eclectic shopping area in Brooklyn. When Alicia ran into an old friend, Karen Jantzen, Ian said he was going to take a little stroll and use the restroom. They agreed to meet at the diner they were going for lunch at 2:00. Ian kissed Alicia on the lips and said, “I’ll miss you.”
“Where did you find this guy, Alicia?” asked Karen. “Does he have a twin?”
“I think I dreamed him and had him made. I can’t believe I’m with him either. I think it works for both of us.”
Karen and Alicia talked for a while, and Alicia realized she needed to get to the diner. The ladies exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch.
Ian was already at the diner and stood to pull out her chair for her. “My lady.”
“My prince,” said Alicia. “This is the best day I’ve ever had in Brooklyn. I am completely in love with you.”
They spent lunch (and two hours of coffee) talking about Ian’s family.”
“Do you think you could ever just live life, you know, not knowing what’s happening the next day?”
“That’s what my sailing trip was supposed to be, but I researched investing the whole time. Does it turn you off that I’m not spontaneous?”
“Ian, you didn’t plan our love-making step by step did you?”
Ian laughed and shook his head.
“See? You can be spontaneous. I like that you have a plan. It keeps us grounded.”
“Okay, but I’m going to keep it spontaneous at the Lefferts. I was hoping we could do it in every room, even the one with the twin beds.”
“You’re so naughty. I won’t be able to walk!” laughed Alicia. “But I am ready to see another room.” And with that she gave him a sexy smile.
Ian left a hundred dollar bill on the table. Lunch was less than $25, but they sat at someone’s table for a long time. They deserved a big tip.
For the next 18 hours, Ian and Alicia played in every room in the B&B, making love in three of them, jumping on the bed in another, licking whipped cream bathing suits off each other, and slept in the twin bed room.
They woke up refreshed, and dressed for the “big day.” They arrived with the Stringers favorite wine and Ian’s flower bouquet for Mama. It took an hour to meet the brothers, sisters, in-laws, nieces, nephews, and the dogs. Alicia was in the kitchen helping her mom with dinner and saw her dad and Ian outside talking. They shook hands and her dad grabbed Ian and hugged him. “Dad,” she said, only imagining what deep dark secrets he was telling Ian.
Dinner was delicious, loud, and
lasted two hours. The kids were either napping or upstairs on the Xbox when Ian clinked his glass and stood up. “Excuse me, may I have your attention for a moment?” Everyone stopped talking and Alicia’s heart began beating faster for some reason.
“I have experienced many joyful days in my life; however, this weekend has by far been the most incredible of all. I found the most beautiful object while we were on Atlantic Street today. This dinner convinced me I’m making the right choice.” He looked at Alicia and said, “With the permission of your father confirmed, Alicia, will you spend the rest of your life letting me love you. Will you marry me?”
The tears began to run uncontrollably down Alicia’s cheeks. “Yes.”
THE END
Devour Me
Chapter 1
Hugo
What am I doing in here? I should be painting! Not in Spin, eating burgers and buying music.
I held the album like I held a beautiful woman. Choosing the right record was like choosing a lover. One had to take their time and stay present in the moment.
A signed copy of Miles Davis’s Sketches of Spain. I should get it, regardless of the price.
Desire burned in my fingertips. I wanted to caress the packaging, undress the album, and lovingly inhale the vinyl.
Old jazz records made me insane. The whole experience stimulated my senses. How could it not? There was something beautiful in gripping an album and feeling the plastic tear off between my fingers. There was something erotic in listening to the perfect sound of the needle hitting the record as music filled the air.
Get out of here, man, and go back to the studio. You’ve got canvases to paint.
Spin was the top diner in Miami. The decor had a hip vibe. Soft green leather booths surrounded glass tables. Colored lights dangled from copper spiraled chandeliers. Pictures of famous musicians hung on the wall—from Joni Mitchell to Miles Davis, Bob Dylan to Johnny Cash. Shelves of albums stacked the walls in the back. One could buy vintage music while eating the most perfect meals.
People packed the place. I was a regular and had my own seat near the bar. A signed picture of me shaking hands with the owner hung on the wall near images of other celebrity artists.
I’m just stalling. I should be interviewing a new model. Not standing here.
My head said leave. My stomach growled and declared that I should stay.
The cuisine represented a genius fusion of American and Cuban cuisine. The place guaranteed fabulous food and entertainment and every waitress could be a runway model.
Get out of here. This is a distraction.
I should’ve been in my studio painting and not drooling over albums in Spin. But I didn’t have that same passion I used to. Restlessness and lack of motivation stopped me from lifting my paintbrush to the canvas. Nothing and no one inspired me enough to create.
I’d just let go of my third model this month. She was pretty like all the rest, but she wasn’t my muse. She wasn’t the one. The right model. A perfect muse became the very source of an artist’s expression. And I’d found no one to fit that place.
I should be interviewing more women, not—
A beautiful voice interrupted my thoughts. “Hello, has someone taken your order?”
Is that an angel?
My thoughts were overdramatic, but nothing but the word angelic could describe her voice. That voice touched the soul, made me want to get on my knees and pray to something. I turned around to see the person behind the lovely tone.
Damn.
Our gazes met.
Although I towered over her, she made a strong presence in front of me. Energy buzzed around her.
Who’s this? I’ve never seen her working here before.
She captivated me—piercing green eyes and waves of golden copper hair that fell to her waist. I could’ve spent all day just painting those strands alone. It had a spicy hue—a beautiful blend of dark golden blonde and light, bright red. Her skin looked soft. I already knew the colors I would use to get her glow just right on the canvas.
She’s beautiful.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but would you like to order something? I wasn’t sure, if anybody had come by.”
I trailed my thumb along the outline of the album I was holding, wishing my fingers were touching her skin. “Yes, I would love to order something. My seat is over there.”
She looked at where I was gesturing. “Oh, you’re the regular that my trainer was just telling me about. You’re Mr. Hugo Vale, right? My trainer talks a whole lot about you. She loves your work.” She curved those beautiful lips into a smile.
I scanned the restaurant, wondering who was her trainer. A lot of the waitresses flirted with me, but I ate in Spin more than I ate in my own kitchen. I wasn’t a fan of engaging in so close to home.
“And what else did she say about me?” I asked.
“She said that you’re a famous artist. That you started from the streets, painting on abandoned buildings and built your way up to stardom.”
“Not bad. Is that all?”
She blushed. “There are definitely a few people here who may think you’re...not bad to look at.”
Women loved to talk about my green eyes and run their fingers through my hair. Every day I worked out. At forty I was in the best shape of my life.
“What do you think about that?” she asked.
“It’s interesting. I’ve been told I had the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going on, but that didn’t start happening until I reached stardom. Unfortunately, no one thought I was tall, dark, and handsome, when I was broke and painting on the street.”
“Life is funny that way.”
“Yes, it is.”
“She also said I could find some of your work at the Miami Contemporary Art Museum. Is that true?”
“You can. Are you an art lover?”
“Yes.”
“What other things do you love?”
A nervous laugh left her lips. “I love books. Black and white movies. The usual classic nerd stuff.”
“You don’t look like a nerd.” I slipped my gaze along her body. She had a slim waist and an hour glass shape. She wasn’t slender like a dancer. There were curves on that beautifully shaped body. She had lush hips and thick thighs that made me want to explore her. Already, I’d begun drawing her naked in my mind. Tracing the lines of her curves, wondering how magical she would appear on my canvas.
Where did she come from?
“Did you just start working here?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“That makes sense. I would’ve remembered.” I gripped the album tighter. “You’re captivating.”
Her face looked shocked as she murmured, “Thank you.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Interesting. And, do you model?”
“No.”
“You should. In fact, you should model for me.”
“Oh, thank you, but I’m sorry, I’m not interested in modeling.” Smiling, she tried to hand me a menu card for the lunch specials.
I waved it away. “I already know what I want.”
“Okay.” She grabbed a small notepad and pencil.
“However, there’s something more important I want to talk with you about.”
She looked up from the pad. “O-kay.”
“I’ve been searching for a model for my next work. It’s going to be a three-part series. The mayor’s wife commissioned the paintings for Art Basel.”
Art Basel was a popular festival that Miami hosted every year. Art lovers from all over the world traveled to the city and covered the whole area in masterpieces. The who’s who of the industry were there. I had to get the project done. Keep the industry whispering my name.
“Art Basel. I went last year,” she nodded. “Isn’t that in two months?”
“Yes, which is why I probably seem a bi
t desperate as I ask you to model for me while we stand in a diner.”
“I don’t think you’re desperate. I take it as a compliment, but—”
“You wouldn’t be nude, but you would have a small amount of clothes. Your skin is so beautiful. I want to paint it as much as possible.”
Does she have a husband?
