by Noelle Vella
He licked his lips, looking me up and down. I noticed the already-impressive bulge in his shorts had gotten even larger. “On second thought, I could always go downstairs later. Want some company?”
My body wanted to say yes over and over again, but my common sense was telling me, “Don’t even think about it.” At that moment, common sense won out.
“Enticing as that offer sounds, I’ll pass,” I said, a slight smile on my face.
He moved a few steps closer, his altitudinous stature causing me to strain my neck. He smelled good, like Egyptian Musk.
“Are you sure?”
The look he was giving me with those honey-colored eyes of his was so sexy, seductive, and hypnotizing, I found myself about to give into his charms. I looked down at his penis that was now standing in full salute, then all the way back up to his handsome face. A few more seconds and Diego could have done with me whatever he wanted—that was, until I heard his phone buzz. It was sitting on the desk. I could see the name of the caller. It was Ricki. The name I could have sworn I heard him say early this morning when he was on the phone.
I smirked at him, saying, “Oh yeah, so sure. You might want to get that.”
Diego looked from me to his phone. Seeing he had no chance of getting me in the shower, or anywhere else for that matter, he answered the phone.
“Hello,” he said, sounding annoyed. He adjusted himself in his shorts and walked toward the door, leaving me shaking my head.
Walking into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror, noticing all the passion marks Diego had left on various parts of my body. I was hoping the ones on my neck would fade by the time I had to go to work on Tuesday. Didn’t need anybody in my business.
After I turned on the shower, I put on the shower cap I found on the bathroom counter next to the bottles of hotel lotion, shampoo, and conditioner. When the water felt just right, I stepped into the tub. I used the little bar of hotel soap to wash my face, then lathered up a washcloth. The water felt good running down my back. It was warm and comforting.
I took deep cleansing breaths trying to clear my mind of everything, but try as I might, my thoughts kept wandering back to Diego. I still couldn’t believe I slept with him, let alone on the first night of meeting him. Here I was, thirty-nine years old, acting like some college kid on spring break. I didn’t even act like that when I was in college.
Yes, Diego was very appealing to the eye, charming, smart, and funny, but he was also arrogant, egotistical, and way too sure of himself. Definitely not the type of man I’d be involved with at all, not even for an occasional romp in the hay. Especially because I didn’t do casual sex—until last night, that is. Maybe I was going through a midlife crisis. Or maybe it was simply because I hadn’t been with anyone in over a year and my hormones had gotten the better of me. Whatever it was, like I told Shell, I didn’t regret it. Regardless, I wouldn’t have to worry about it, nor Diego, after tomorrow.
I was still in the shower when he returned. I turned off the water, grabbing a large towel off the rack. Once I had dried off, I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped out of the shower.
Diego poked his head inside the bathroom.
“I got everything on your list. And I found a few things for you in the boutique. I hope you like them,” he said, placing two bags on the counter. One was from the Palmetto Market, the other from the Omni Boutique.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“You’re welcome,” he said, giving me my privacy.
Removing my towel and folding it neatly, I placed it on the floor. I used the deodorant, lotion, and baby powder that I found in the Palmetto Market bag. Curious to see what he had gotten from the boutique, I took everything out of the bag and saw that he had bought me a black sleep shirt that read “I lost my virginity on Hilton Head Island” printed in big light blue letters. I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw it. He also bought a pair of black lace boyshorts, a black bandeau bra top with matching panties, two pairs of black socks, a turquoise tank top, and a turquoise and black tennis skirt. I had to give it to the man; he did have good taste. Just by looking at everything, I could tell he had chosen the correct sizes.
I pulled the price tags off of everything, then donned a pair of socks, the boyshorts, and the sleep shirt. I placed the other clothes and toiletries in one bag, while tossing my dirty clothes in the other. As I went to throw away the price tags, I realized how expensive everything was. If I wasn’t desperate, I would have made Diego take it all back. As it stood, I had no choice but to use what he bought for me, but I would definitely be reimbursing him for all of it.
Carrying the bags out of the bathroom, I placed them next to the bedroom couch. Diego was lying on the king-size bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. He had taken off his sneakers, as well as his shirt. I couldn’t help but admire his perfectly sculpted arms and chest, not to mention his rock-hard abs. He looked as if he was asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. I wouldn’t be surprised, considering how little sleep we had both gotten. He must have heard me because his eyes opened.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” I said.
“Wasn’t sleeping,” he replied, looking in my direction.
I sat down on the bed. “Cute,” I said, pointing to the words on the sleep shirt, making us both laugh. “Thank you for buying all that stuff,” I said. “But you really didn’t have to spend all that money. I’m going to pay you back.”
“No need,” he replied.
“The things you bought fit perfectly. How did you know what sizes to get?”
“That was easy,” he said. “I just asked the saleswoman where the pint-size section was,” he teased.
“Screw you, Diego,” I kidded, a smile on my face.
“Just say the word,” he replied in a tone so sexy I had to divert my gaze from his, the heat rising in my cheeks. He had me feeling some type of way, and I was trying my best not to let anything else happen between us.
Sidestepping his comment, I replied, “I can’t let you pay for all that. I don’t have my checkbook on me now, but I promise you I will pay you back.”
Diego shook his head. “Like I told you before, there’s no need. Consider it my gift to you for the good company. You saved me from having to look at Carl’s mug for most of the weekend,” he said with a wink.
“Well, thank you,” I said, laughing. “You’re pretty good company yourself.”
“I also wanted to thank you for what you did for me earlier,” he said.
I could only assume he was referring to our stairwell sexcapade. “You’re welcome. My method may have been unorthodox, but you have to admit, it was effective.”
“Yes, very effective. I have to say, you surprised me. I did not see that coming,” he remarked, a sly look on his face.
“Heck, I surprised myself. And for the record, I couldn’t see you coming, but I most definitely felt it,” I replied, pretending to fan myself.
That got a hearty laugh out of Diego. “Are you hungry?”
I know he was referring to food, but looking at his extremely fit physique I could think of something else that I was hungry for. I quickly pushed that thought away. I knew all too well how easy it was to get caught up in good sex. I had a firsthand view of that with Shell. Besides, the sex with Diego wasn’t just good, it was phenomenal, so I definitely couldn’t afford to let that happen to me.
“I’m starving,” I said.
He got off the bed, picking up the room service menu. Sitting back down next to me, he said, “Pick whatever you want, and I’ll call downstairs.”
We both looked through the menu. When I told him I was starving, it wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t eaten much since breakfast. I made my selection, then, passing the menu to Diego, he made his. He also picked out a nice bottle of Moscato d’Asti.
Once he called in our order, the conversation turned back to the reason for Diego’s earlier freak-out.
“I can’t believe I panicked like a little bitch, and now yo
u know I have an issue with being in total darkness. Aside from my parents, no one else knows, not even Carl.”
He lay back down, looking up at the ceiling.
I had never personally seen anyone have a panic attack, not even in practice as a doctor, but I knew the signs. Even though I couldn’t see Diego when the lights went out, I could hear the signs loud and clear. His speech was erratic; his breathing increased to the point where I thought he was going to hyperventilate. Turning toward him, I sat cross-legged on the bed. I stared at him for a moment, trying to choose my words carefully. There was nothing worse than a man whose pride was wounded. Scratch that; there was nothing worse than a black man whose pride was wounded.
“Diego, you had . . . a moment, based on a traumatic event from your childhood. Today just happened to be a trigger. It’s like a form of posttraumatic stress. I get it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Is that your professional psychological assessment, Doctor?” he asked, looking over at me, grinning.
Smiling back, I replied, “Why, yes, it is. Look,” I said, seriousness in my tone, “it takes a strong man to admit something like that, especially to a stranger. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you,” he responded.
We heard a knock at the door. “Hold that thought,” he said, getting up from the bed, walking to the living room.
He asked who it was before opening it. Once he confirmed it was room service, he let the server in. The young man wheeled in a cart containing two covered plates, utensils wrapped in expensive-looking cloth napkins, the bottle of Moscato in an ice bucket, and two wineglasses.
The server handed Diego the bill. He looked it over carefully, then signed it. Taking his wallet out of his pocket, he pulled out some money, handing it, along with the bill, to the server. After the young man thanked him repeatedly for what I assumed was a generous tip, they said their good-byes, and he left.
“Would you prefer to eat in the bedroom or out here in the living room?” Diego asked, just loud enough for me to hear him.
“In here is fine,” I responded.
He wheeled the cart into the bedroom, positioning it so we could both reach it. He removed the covers from both plates, revealing the mouthwatering food. Not only did it look delicious, it smelled wonderful. Diego removed the cork from the Moscato, poured us both a glass, then recorked the bottle.
I didn’t even wait for Diego to start eating I was that hungry. “You sure you’re going to eat all that?” he asked.
“Watch me,” I said, finishing off my crab cake, then tearing into my main course. “And if I’m still hungry, I might eat some of yours.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I would ask where you put it all, but I think I already know.”
“And where would that be?” I questioned.
“That pretty ass of yours that you claim I can’t help but look at,” he teased. Diego was savoring his food, taking his time with it, just like he did with me last night.
I laughed with him. “Hey, better there than anywhere else,” I countered.
“You’ll get no complaints from me,” he noted in agreement. “I would ask you if you liked the food, but since you’re almost done, I would take that as a yes.”
I nodded. “You would be correct. And yours?” I asked, eyeing his filet mignon.
“It’s good. Would you like to try some?”
I did, but not wanting to appear greedy, I simply replied in ladylike fashion, “No, thanks, I’m good.”
Diego’s phone, which was on the bed next to him, began to vibrate. It was close enough for me to see the name of the caller. It was Ricki again. I looked at him, a sly smile on my face.
“What?” he asked, letting the call go to voice mail as he finished his meal.
“Nothing,” I coyly replied.
“That look didn’t say nothing.”
He got up, put the ice bucket with the wine and our glasses on the nightstand, and rolled the cart into the living room. He came back and stretched out on the bed, waiting for me to respond.
I made myself comfortable and lay on my stomach, my elbows resting on the bed. “It’s just that for someone who’s not your wife or girlfriend, she’s called you a lot. Which leads me to believe you two have ‘a thing,’” I said, making air quotes.
Looking at me questioningly, he asked, “‘A thing’?” mimicking my hand motions.
“Yes, ‘a thing.’ You two aren’t in a relationship, but you have an agreement of sorts.”
“Is that another one of your expert assessments?”
He refilled both glasses, handing me mine.
“No, just the assessment from a woman who’s been in more than one relationship over the years. I’m no longer involved with my ex, Daniel, but he still calls and texts me at times like we are.”
Diego took a few sips of wine.
“Like when he called you last night?”
“I was wondering how much you’d heard,” I replied.
“Sorry, I wasn’t eavesdropping. But I did hear enough to know that he showed up at your home unexpectedly, was trying to monopolize your time, and was trying to make you feel guilty because you were away.”
“Not eavesdropping, huh?” I needled.
He laughed, but then his voice took on a serious tone.
“I know you said he wasn’t, but are you sure he’s not crazy?”
“Daniel’s harmless,” I said, downplaying his question. “I was with him long enough to know he’s more bark than bite. Anyway, I won’t have to deal with him for another couple of days.”
“Why deal with him at all?”
I shrugged. “Because even though we’re not together, I’m still trying to be a good friend.”
“Sometimes being a good friend means knowing when to let go and learning to let someone make their own way,” he countered.
He did have a valid point. I wondered if he’d take his own advice. And as if on cue, his phone started to vibrate yet again.
“Aren’t you going to answer that? It could be important,” I said.
He picked up the phone, as if to answer it. Instead, he turned it off, placing it back on the nightstand. “It wasn’t important,” he replied.
I studied his face and could tell he had something on his mind.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” he stated.
“Yes.”
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“This may sound rude, but I want to be inside you right now.”
Although I was a bit surprised by his candor, I couldn’t fault the man for his honesty or his directness. “Tell me how you really feel,” I said.
“If you allow me, I can show you better than I can tell you.”
“I don’t know, Diego. I think I’ve indulged a little too much already.”
“Then what’s one more indulgence? I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”
He leaned over, his lips meeting mine. He pulled me on top of him, his manhood pressing against me. Despite my misgivings, I succumbed to temptation. It was going to be our last time together, after all. My lips parted as his tongue entered my mouth, the sweet taste of wine still on his breath.
He reached under my sleep shirt, pulled it up and over my head, and tossed it to the side. Chest to chest, the fingers of one of his hands grabbed at my locs, the other at my boyshorts. He couldn’t get them off fast enough. Just like my shirt earlier, he ripped them from my body. His big hands palmed my cheeks, squeezing them. I moaned into his mouth.
I sucked on his neck, trailing soft kisses down his chest, reaching his shorts. I got them, along with his boxer briefs, down halfway, freeing him from their constriction. He kicked them off the rest of the way. I took him in my hand, stroking him from shaft to tip, his precome coating my fingers. He groaned low and deep in his throat as I licked his head, lowering my mouth onto it. I brought him further into my
mouth, his tip hitting the back of my throat. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his fingers digging into the sheets.
While I continued to orally pleasure him, Diego reached out for me, turning me around, lifting me up and lowering me until my sultry folds were in his face. He spread my lips with his fingers, penetrating me with his tongue. Wrapping his arms around my back, he held me in place, as we found sixty-nine ways to please each other.
Wanting to grant his request, I slid down his torso, grabbing a condom off the nightstand. Opening it, I sheathed him, turned myself around, and lowered myself slowly onto his penis, clenching my muscles along the way. I placed my hands on his chest, riding him, his fingernails digging into my thighs. I saw the sweet agony on his face as he tried to hold back. Grasping me firmly, he flipped me over onto my back, placing one of my legs on his shoulder; long, deep thrusts stroked my G-spot.
My soprano cries mixed with his deep bass ones until they culminated into a crescendo louder than the waves crashing outside as we climaxed in unison . . . The first of many, as we tasted, teased, and pleased each other from late night until early morning, until finally, we both collapsed in sweet exhaustion.
* * *
There was a warm breeze coming off of the ocean. The waves were calm and inviting, not like the choppy, harsh ones of just a few short hours ago. The sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect Sunday, my last full day in Georgia.
Diego and I decided to have breakfast together at HH Prime, sitting on the covered deck. We called Shell and Carl to let them know our plans but decided not to wait for them. Not that they had shown up yet anyway. It appeared that those two had lost their minds and seemed to have forgotten they were married—not to each other, but to other people.
“I hope those two get here soon,” I said, biting into my Belgian waffle topped with bananas, strawberries, and whipped cream. “We have to get back on the road soon.”
Diego was chowing down on two scrambled eggs with a prime cut five-ounce filet and golden potatoes. “No telling with those two. I know Carl’s going through something, but I never expected this.”
