Taurus_Mr. Persistent_The 12 Signs of Love

by Tiana Laveen

  As he pointed out various plants she should pull and others she should have a landscaper install in their place, he found her white, sheer sundress rather distracting. It plunged at the neckline, revealing ample cleavage slathered with lotion. Her perfume carried on the air, giving him a sniff of her alluring aroma. Her hair was piled atop her head with a white wildflower interwoven in the loose curls, showcasing her lovely long neck adorned with a matching white lace Victorian style choker with a hanging orange rose amulet.

  I like how she looks, smells, dresses, carries herself, argues and fucks. I like every damn thing about this woman…

  Shaking himself out of his deliberations, he jumped back into the issue at hand. “And since you have vaulted ceilings on the inside,” he said, pointing towards her front door, “you can utilize the sunlight that comes in more efficiently if you take down those plants on that shelf in the living room and replace them with these instead. That way, these plants won’t go to waste and besides, they do better indoors anyway.”

  She nodded in understanding, or perhaps she was simply pretending to care. Sometimes, with her, he wasn’t quite certain. The woman laid on the politeness, something that for him was certainly not second nature. She clasped her hands, crossed her ankles, and smiled in a dainty sort of way.

  Yeah… she’s definitely just humoring me, blowing smoke up my ass. She hasn’t heard a damn word I’ve said…

  “Great ideas, Tristan.” She sounded sincere enough, but for the past few minutes he was convinced she was distracted. “Hey, you want to go back inside and relax for a bit? Maybe get something cold to drink?” She hitched her thumb in the direction of her home behind them then patted her temple with the back of her hand, wiping away a layer of sweat.

  “Yeah… that sounds fine. Just uh… let me get my gloves.”

  It had gotten rather hot, especially for a spring day with a good breeze. The rising heat seemed to come out of nowhere, as if they were inside an oven and someone had turned it on to 500 degrees.

  He bent down to retrieve the filthy gloves, the things worn and trusty. But then his gaze fell on her as he stooped, glued to her heaving breasts, and his mouth pooled with saliva. He was a moment away from panting like a wild dog. Perhaps this was a different sort of heat altogether… When he got back to his feet, the gloves in hand, they locked eyes in an intense stare. His dick thickened, jumped, and saluted her as he took in the sight of love wrapped in human flesh. She slicked her tongue over her lower lip as she scanned his body, from his head to his package, paused there, then back up again before turning and heading towards her front door.

  He walked behind her, his gait steady, his depraved urges booming within as the animal inside of him thumped against his chest, roamed angrily about like a caged beast, antsy and gasping for reprieve. Inked with unquenchable desire for her, he pushed against her as she opened the door, his body propelling her forward, almost tripping her. Impatience turned him into a sexual bully. As she spun around like a white blaze of light, her eyes screamed protest at his manhandling. He stopped her mid-motion with the brisk catch of her flailing wrist. Eye to eye, they drowned within each other.

  Breaking from the trance, he found himself nose deep in her pussy as he pushed her hard onto her couch, knocked her legs open, and licked her lacey covered holy grail with the tip of his eager tongue. Her sweet surrender melted any concerns or worries he might have had. Gripping her fat ass, he saturated her already wet garden with his mouth. She squirmed against him, and he suddenly hated her panties… hated anything that was in his damn way. He couldn’t quite get his fix; he needed more of her.

  Standing, he deposited her over the couch, her head on the cushion, and her legs wide open over the back of the furniture. Her white sundress gathered around her stomach, exposing her just so for his pleasure.

  He tugged at his zipper so hard, it was a wonder he didn’t break it. Then, he freed his hard dick from the confines of his boxer shorts. Shoving her lacey white panties aside, he roughly entered her. He almost fell apart within seconds for her pussy grabbed onto his cock and squeezed, pulsated, wet and soft…

  Her fingers grasped at something, anything, to no avail. The lusty desperation in her eyes sent him into overdrive. With one finger on her clit and his dick working hard within her, the delight on her face was a thing of beauty. Her body slid back and forth as he administered hearty thrusts made just for her. She reached for him then gave up, emitting sweet moans and airy gasps…

  Sprawled black hair… open lips…

  She shuddered against him. The beautiful unsaid words blended in with her orgasm like a symphony.

  “Yes! Shit!” He held onto her waist as he worked her over, determined to extract every luscious, sticky, dewy drop of lust out of her. He slowed down just enough to plant a kiss against her cheek, then her quivering lips. The woman wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him closer. Then, he brought her with him a few feet away, laying her down on the black carpeted floor.

  “I feel for you…” His heart beat faster as the words escaped his mouth. “You’ve got to be mine, baby. You’ve got to be all mine… I want you all to myself, you understand?”

  She sighed and pulled him impossibly closer, twisting and turning her hips, crashing her pelvis into his slow churned thrusts. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she worked her core against him. Her chest heaved, her collar bones prominent as she took a long, labored breath. The woman’s face was slick with sweat, her breath scented with the cinnamon mints she’d been popping earlier in the day. He relished everything about her… the earthy, organic way she received him, the way their bodies connected with invisible threads of trust.

  He ran his hand along her soft stomach. The heat and stickiness from her body made him pause, and he offered a silent moment of gratitude for being accepted into her world. A need to claim her overpowered him, one of complete possessiveness. Of ownership. He lost control over his words as they spewed forth with vulgar abandon, his mind doing strange things while his heart and dick made the decisions without his consent.

  She cried out when he flipped her on her stomach and entered her from behind. Clawing at the carpet, she purred like a kitten in heat, receiving him. Submitting. He buried himself deep within her, one hand around her neck, the other around her waist as his pelvis met the softness of her ass with quick thrusts.

  “Fuck me harder!”

  Her words sent him into high gear, full speed ahead, and in a matter of moments, she came, shaking beneath him. But he didn’t slow down. He didn’t let up or cease.

  A rough kiss to the back of her neck, a slap against her ass and he was done for. He spilled within her, filling her chalice to the brim.

  When it was all said and done, he softly kissed her shoulder, closed his eyes and fell to the floor, lying beside her. She slowly turned towards him, a slight smile on her face.

  “So, you wanted to put a bid in to do the land architectural work on my office building and a bid for my heart too, huh?” She laughed lightly—a sexy, raspy tone.

  “I put my bid in for both after the first time I saw you, baby. You know quality when you see it. I’m the best man for the job…”

  …One week later

  Tristan sat at the end of the long floating top conference room table, swiveling in the white leather chair as he observed the employees marching out after the adjournment of their meeting. He glanced out of the glass walls, taking note of the thick America linden trees in fresh full bloom.

  When he turned back to look down the other end of the table, there sat a woman he’d known his entire life. She had something to say; he could tell by her body language and the way she’d gawked at him while Frederic had worked the white board and Tariq had demonstrated his design ideas for the Hussman project during his Power Point presentation.

  His sister had a smug look on her face. He could see from above her laptop, which was still open. Her thin-rimmed jade green glasses slid down her nose, and her long auburn hair
lay tossed over one shoulder, covering her soft gray blazer jacket. Her fingers moved quickly across the keyboard; so far, she hadn’t given any reason or explanation as to why she hadn’t retreated to her office after such a long day. He kept on spinning, hands clasped… waiting.

  “I had a little chat with accounting today.” Ahhh, here we go… “That was one hell of a discount you gave Dr. Kinley.”

  Her eye remained on the keyboard, the only other noise being the mellow sounds of contemporary jazz playing through the speakers and the muttered voices of people moving about the building, preparing to depart for the day.

  “She’s referred us to two other contacts… bids are on both.”

  “Mmm hmmm, but not guaranteed.” Her perfectly arched brow rose in an all-knowing way. “You never give deep discounts, Ball Buster Tristan. You don’t care how much you like a client.” Beverly looked up, a twisted smirk painted across her face. “There’s only one explanation.”

  He lounged lazily in his seat, nape resting on the back of the chair. With a smile, he egged the woman on. “And this is the part where you tell me what it is.”

  “You’re fucking her.”

  At this, he burst out laughing then ran his hand against his chin.

  “Yes… yes, I am.”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I had no idea that I had to give you a tally of my conquests and relationships,” he teased. “Actually, Bev, due to the circumstances, I was going to let the cat out of the bag a couple of weeks ago, on the day I called you into my office but you never came. You had another last-minute trip.”

  He winked at her. Her smile slowly disappeared and a look of disdain soon replaced it. He tossed up his hands.

  “You snooze, you lose. By the time you returned, I changed my mind. I like to keep things to myself sometimes anyway… you know that.”

  “Only from me. I bet Darryl knows.” She grimaced and crossed her arms over her chest. “Anyway, wasn’t it you who stated we shouldn’t let business interfere with pleasure?”

  “It hasn’t. My part of the contract was over by the time she and I got together. Anyway, I have a crew working on her second floor as we speak. Spalding is overseeing it. Money is still flowing like the Nile and in fact, those two bids I just told you about, the ones Carmen referred to me, would you like to know their current status?”

  “What kind of silly question is that? Of course I would.”

  “One already said we’re good as gold. They just need the final approval and the other is looking quite nice. Anyway.” He slowly got up from the chair, making it squeak. “She’s not just someone I screwed. We’re together.”

  Gathering his belongings, he headed towards the door.

  “Together? Uh, not so fast, Tristan.” Bev turned her chair towards the exit he was aiming for, legs crossed and her red and gray striped high heel dangling off her foot. “I’m confused and shocked by this.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You told me after your initial meeting that she was strange, some hippie who didn’t know a liverwort from a hornwort and that her place was a wreck. That it would need the help of some Harry Potterish type wizardry to make it work. You said her staff was just as peculiar as she was and the place smelled of throat burning incense. What made you have a change of heart?”

  “All that I told you was true and it still is. She’s delightfully peculiar… wise, feisty, beautiful, intelligent and gracious. Sometimes you have to just open your eyes and really see what you have in front of you. She’s captivating, unique, and makes me want to be a better man. I feel like she fits the bill for my personal desires. In all honesty, I couldn’t resist.” He shrugged. “She waved a red flag in front of me and I had to do what I do best. Charge in her direction and see what was on the other side. Now I’m hooked…”

  …A few days later

  This… This simply can’t be…

  The Merrill Community Arts Center was packed. Tristan sat awestruck at witnessing the performance Carmen had dragged him to. His sweetheart was sitting literally on the edge of her seat, clinging to her theater program, her dark eyes glued to the stage as if she’d be quizzed soon thereafter about it and didn’t want to lose a moment.

  I feel like I’m stuck in a bad dream. I wish someone would wake me the fuck up.

  A woman with hot-air-balloon-sized breasts, scantily clad in shreds of clothing as if she’d been mauled by a pack of wolves, moved about the stage like a clumsy child practicing ballet for the first time. Showing off her hairy pits with bits of yellow and sparse pink squiggles covering her alabaster, almost bare, scalp, the actress ranted and raved on the stage, half singing, half shrieking, as she explained that her lady love had left, and now her heart was broken into a million pieces.

  “She’s so talented!” Carmen whispered, her attention still heavily focused on the performance.

  Moments later, which felt like an eternity, a round of applause erupted and he wasn’t certain if it was because the shit was finally half over, or because these freaks were truly enjoying this sickening spectacle. There was nothing beautiful about what he was seeing. Gold glitter covered the stage, for no reason that he could imagine, and the backdrop was supposed to be an image of an old urban apartment, perhaps set in New York City. There was a crude painting of a fire escape out of a makeshift frame window on the lacking set, and a few crudely drawn skyscrapers.

  He searched in vain to find a sliver of promise, something he could focus on to make it through the rest of the performance, but he struggled between being bored half out of his mind to trying to find a possible excuse to go out into the hallway of the auditorium and never return.

  “Isn’t this wonderful?!” Carmen squealed as she wrapped her arms around his, a ten-minute intermission now underway. All he did was stare at her. His tongue curled to tell her…

  No, damn it, it isn’t wonderful! It fuckin’ sucks, all right?! This shit is stupid! I’d rather be getting my ass, back, and chest hair waxed, ripped right out the follicle than go through one more minute of this! I’m sitting here stalling an urge to vomit. This place smells like one big, hot, sweaty asshole! Can anyone tell me why it smells like an asshole here, huh? There is some bushy beast on the stage with hair that looks like the last part of the cotton candy on a stick after it’s been gobbled by a mob of bad ass kids. This woman, and I use that word loosely, looks like a cross between John Goodman and George Wendt, and she’s yelling at us about how her girlfriend left her for another for the past fucking hour! We get it, the bitch is gone. Get over it, put on some clothes, and shut the fuck up! I say, she should be happy she had anyone for even one night! I say, who fucking cares, too! I say, I’m dyin’ a slow death in here!

  …But he didn’t utter a word of this. Instead, his body heated as he kept his true thoughts inside, the battle within him to tell her just what was on his mind ready to explode. He bit his tongue until he almost cut the damn thing in half.

  Carmen looked at him quizzically, leaning in, examining him…

  “You hate it.” She smiled and shook her head… and then she burst out laughing. “You should see your face right now!”

  She slapped her knee, her face turning red. People moved about, talking quietly amongst themselves. He nodded, then laughed, too. Taking her hand, he kissed the top of it.

  “The shit we do for love…”

  Her smile slowly faded and her eyes went wide. He took her chin into his hands, ushered her closer, and pressed his lips against hers, needing her kiss. Moments later, the play commenced again. He watched the strange cast dance and run, scream obscenities, then sing odd little tunes over karaoke type music. Several times he repressed the urge to laugh at the nonsense, especially during the funeral scene where everyone was dressed like mushrooms, symbolizing penis envy and veganism. When he was released from the theatrical slavery that had oppressed him for two point three hours, the cool night air felt like a kiss from God. He ran uninhibited in the street, Carmen l
aughing behind him, urging him to return to her.

  “I’m FREEEEEE!” He gleamed, his arms high in the air, his teeth showing and his heart pumping with adrenaline.

  “You’re crazy! It wasn’t that bad! Get out of the street!” the woman protested from the sidewalk, her long navy-blue trench coat wide open and exposing her curvy yet toned, gorgeous body.

  She wore a pair of jeans that hugged her hips and a baby blue t-shirt, not her usual bohemian style, but she looked good… damn good. He finally returned to her, taking her hand as they made their way to the parking lot a couple of blocks away.

  “It feels good out here.” She wrapped her arm around his and kissed his cheek as they walked side by side.

  “Yeah, it does. Smells like rain, too. I didn’t check the forecast today.” He paused to sniff the air like some bloodhound. “Yeah… it’s definitely going to rain.” They resumed walking, hand in hand. “I love the rain.”

  “I do, too.”

  Her cheeks were round and rosy as she grinned, the cheekbones accentuated by such a beautiful smile. She looked as if she were recalling some magnificent memory. He began to swing her arm to and fro, as though they were children on their way to getting ice-cream. The joy between them burst free like invisible fireworks with all the smiles, laughter, steady steps, but no words… There was no reason to speak for their hearts, eyes, and expressions did all the communicating.

  He pulled her into his arms, snapping her body to his like a yo-yo, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She purred in his embrace as he delivered needy kisses up and down the side of her sweet-smelling neck. He couldn’t recall the last time he felt so free, so silly, not on solid ground. He was floating up in the air with her, toward clouds filled with possibilities of the unknown just waiting to burst and drench them in the dreams of tomorrow.