To see Amaris again after three months...
My cock jerked in anticipation.
But I’d have to play it cool. Her admission had winded me.
How could she be a virgin?
How was it possible that no man had claimed her?
I thought about the way she dressed, demure and unassuming. Not only that, she had the most ludicrous idea that I couldn’t be interested in her. But how could I not be? Everything about her was irresistible. I fantasized about pulling the elastic out of her hair and watching her luscious black curls drape over her shoulders. If she gave me the opportunity, I’d fuck her until those ringlets straightened out.
Me not be interested in her? Not possible.
I huffed. I still had the better part of five years left before I could claim her the way I wanted. Keeping my distance was barely working. If my anger management skills were lacking, it was probably due to unresolved sexual tension.
But the hell if that meant I couldn’t prime her – get her ready for what was coming.
I pulled the cart into a bay and cut the engine. Then, I leaned back against the seat.
“If Amaris is going to be there, so will I,” I asserted.
11
Amaris
Nichola had pulled it off. Not that I had expected otherwise. Her talent and skill had been apparent, even when we were in grade school. In art class, she’d surpassed me by kilometers. While I was using crayons, she was using oil paint, and when I’d matriculated to Play Doh sculptures, homegirl was using a potter’s wheel like her last name was Christ.
By the time I graduated high school, I’d given up on any career that involved the manipulation of random materials and settled on being creative in therapy, but Nic had forged ahead.
Now, after years of toil, sacrifice, and even some ridicule for her career choice, the day had arrived when people from all over the city, and beyond, were ogling her creations with lust in their eyes, not the least of whom, was Linkie.
Where his eyes had once been, now there were stars. He was walking around the vast gallery, shoulders back, chest out. Anybody would’ve thought it was his show. Fancy well-to-doers were piling in, and Linkie was at the door greeting them. Every now and then, he’d pull Nic over and introduce her to someone important.
The place was full of rich people; people with an eye for the artistic, who coveted expensive abstract pieces that seemed to make no sense to the layperson. In fact, someone had already claimed a piece and was proudly discussing their interpretation of it to an envious viewer.
Maverick.
I hadn’t bumped into him, thank God, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was here somewhere.
I hadn’t been able to get out of coming tonight. Not that I really wanted to get out of it. Nic was my bestie, and if I missed this debut, she’d divorce me.
I can’t lie and say I hadn’t considered missing it, though. I might not have wanted to be divorced from my best friend, but I had no qualms about legal separation.
The last time I’d seen Maverick was when he’d marched his sexy behind out of my office, leaving me in a horrified stupor. The man had been as serious as a heart attack.
Five years.
He’d even gone as far as to research it in the ACA Code of Ethics!
I’d scheduled a supervision meeting immediately and unpacked the deranged scenario. I was attracted to Maverick, yes. I wanted him… yes. Thoughts of what it would be like to lay in the silken sheets of his bed, his entire frame shrouding mine, assailed my thoughts day in and out.
My feelings were unprofessional and inappropriate, but somehow, saying it out loud in the confines of confidentiality allowed the weight of humiliation to clank off my shoulders. Supervision, holy oil, and three months’ worth of scripture – it was doing the trick!
I pressed the edge of my wine glass against my quivering lips and peered blindly at the artwork posted in front of me.
It was called Lascivious, and it was of a naked woman, laying bare in silk, red sheets. Her hair was spread behind her, and her lover, a thick, muscular specimen, was climbing over her body, ready to devour her from the outside in.
Mmm…
My lips parted and my vagina contracted. The sensuality was overwhelming. It was dripping off the canvas, and the subjects seemed three-dimensional, as if they would pop out of the painting.
Suddenly, the images blurred, and the faces transformed.
I became the woman.
The man was Maverick...
My teeth cinched over my bottom lip and I swallowed a perverse moan. I shouldn’t be thinking this way. True, I was surrounded by a literal sex show, but there was no logical explanation for why I was envisioning Maverick scaling my quivering body, sinking his thick erection deep into my –
A hand clamping down on my shoulder made me shriek and spin around.
“Mary, are you okay?” Nichola stood peering at me.
“Girl, I’m fine,” I lied, swiping a hand over my trailing ponytail. Then I reconsidered my answer. “Actually… I’m not. These pieces have me hotter than the damn Sahara.”
We burst into laughter, and I prayed to God that it disguised my lust.
“Nic, I’m mesmerized by your work. This piece is literally taking my breath away.”
She tipped her chin in the direction of the painting. “Do you really like it?”
“Like it?” I whispered in her ear. “My panties are drenched, thanks to this porn-on-a-wall.”
We laughed again, but quickly settled when a couple of well-to-do lookin’ folk sauntered by, observing the paintings. When they recognized Nic, they engaged her in heartfelt and technical conversation, complete with references to her use of the glazing effect.
I took another sip of wine, waiting, scanning the gallery.
Not only were there paintings, there were sculptures, imposing and haughty; but a most curious piece was positioned in the corner of the room. It was a carving like no other, poised flush against the wall. It was of a man with blazing brown eyes. Its upper body was chiseled with rippling muscle. I could tell that much, despite the fact that said muscles were covered by the material of a fine Italian suit. On its feet were velvet loafers. And to make the sculpture more alluring, it wasn’t inanimate.
Oh Lord, it’s not a damn sculpture. It’s Maverick!
His eyes were pinned on me as he pressed his wine glass against his lips; the lips I’d ruminated over for three freaking months. My midsection clenched again, a blatant reminder that, thanks to Nichola’s erotic displays, I was completely aroused.
Who the hell was I trying to fool? It wasn’t only because of the displays. No matter I had mentally prepped myself for this very thing…
Nichola had ended her conversation and was back; and not a moment too soon. It gave me a reason to drag my eyes away from the live sculpture positioned like a million-and-one-dollar piece across the room.
“Oh my God, Mary, do you have any idea who that was?” Her eyes were shining with excitement. “That was Dylan Hamilton and his wife!”
“Dylan Hamilton?” My tone was inches higher than hers. Quickly, I reeled it in. “Wow, Nic. He’s one of the wealthiest businessmen in Miami! He’s all over magazine covers!”
“I know,” she said. “Apparently, he’s one of Linkie’s good friends. Him and his wife flew here just for the show. And they loved Lascivious. In fact, they purchased it on the spot!”
I cast my eyes in the direction of the good-looking couple, noticing the way his arm was positioned possessively around her waist and protruding belly.
Sis had skin the color of fine chocolate, and Dylan Hamilton was the color of fine gold.
I wondered about their story and in a matter of minutes, my mind was on Maverick. Quickly, I ripped it back to the matter at hand.
“Dare I ask how much you sold it for? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how none of these pieces have price tags on them.”
Nichola grinned and tilted her head closer.
“Let’s just say we’ll be frequenting the kinds of places Linkie and Mav like for many-a future Girls’ Nights,” she whispered.
We clinked our wine glasses and giggled, but mine sounded like a dry cough.
Damn, I could still smell him; and now, it was like I could feel him. My skin rippled.
“Speaking of Mav…” Nic started.
“Actually,” I interrupted, “I was hoping that we could not speak of Mav.” I tried to throw disgust on top of his name.
“What? Why?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I sighed shaking my head. “I’m sure Linkie told you how we totally bombed when we met.”
“You know I heard all about it,” she confirmed with an agitated flick of her hair. “And don’t get me started on it either, because I have a strong feeling it was you who fucked the entire thing up that night.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked.
“You heard me,” she snapped. “Maverick was totally smitten by you, Amaris. Stevie-fucking- Wonder could’ve seen it.” She huffed. “The only way the two of you didn’t work out is because you did something to make it not work. You didn’t give him a fair shot.”
“Nic, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” I hissed in frustration.
She ignored me. As always. “But don’t worry,” she was saying. “Tonight’s another opportunity.”
“Another opportunity for what?”
“Another opportunity to get it right,” she explained sticking me with an aggressive glare.
I rolled my neck.
Nichola didn’t understand.
I had already gotten it right. The minute I’d stood my ground and resisted Maverick’s titillating advances, I’d passed the test. The last thing I needed was another exam, especially with what I’d glimpsed standing regally in the corner.
I needed to explain that to her. Well, not that. There was no way I should reveal that Maverick was my client. It didn’t matter that his file had been closed for three months, the confidentiality clause still prevailed.
No, I couldn’t disclose that information, but I could say something to shut down her proclivity for match-making. All because she’d found her happily ever after with Linkie, didn’t mean she was allowed to bully me into one. I was waiting for Mr. Right. That should be commended.
I huffed. “Nichola, listen,” I started to protest, “Maverick… is an amazing man.” The words felt like boulders rising out of my throat. “But it wasn’t meant to be. He’s not the one.”
She grimaced. “How can you even fix your lips to say something like that?” she demanded of me. “How do you know it wasn’t meant to be when you barely gave him a chance?”
“I don’t need to have given him a chance to know that it wouldn’t have been right,” I argued. “I could feel it. That’s what I do for a living, you know. I feel people out and interpret their intentions.”
And I knew, good and well, what Maverick’s intentions were.
“That’s bullshit, Amaris,” she spat, dismissing everything I’d said. “Had you been more open to him, who knows where the two of you could have been by now?”
Oh, I had a good idea where we could have been: in his bed.
Or mine.
In fact, there was no doubt we would have been like Lascivious, or any one of her erotic works, but thinking about that was counterproductive. Besides, I wasn’t ready for any of that.
At a time that couldn’t have been more precise, Linkie called out, waving her over to a group gathered around a painting.
In an instant, Nichola’s rough and tough exterior evaporated and she transformed into obedient jelly.
“I’ll be back,” she grunted at me. “We need to finish this conversation.”
“Take your time, because this conversation is actually more done than your pot roast last Thanksgiving.”
“Bitch,” she hissed before hurrying off.
I released a hefty breath and looked in Maverick’s direction. When I noticed his eyes still locked on me, my chest hitched, and I looked away. His eyes were like flames, matching that red hair perfectly.
That suit he was wearing, it had been tailored just for him. And I could smell that sweet and musky cologne. It was the same one that had invaded my senses three months ago, when he’d ushered me into my very first kiss…
Mmm…
I shook the thoughts away and started walking the length of the gallery. I’d stay for another hour and then I’d bolt outta here. I’d avoided Maverick for three months for this very reason. His presence clouded my judgment and made everything nonsensical. Whenever I thought about him, all I wanted was to feel his lips on mine again. They had been so… soft. His tongue had been both sweet and aggressive. The way his hands raked over my skin, if I thought about it for too long, my flesh would tingle. It was the exact way I’d imagined my first kiss would be.
And Nichola’s depictions weren’t helping the cause. The more I looked, the more I realized the entire exercise was counterintuitive. Every damn piece was a reminder that I hadn’t experienced any of the pleasures portrayed in the paintings.
To make matters worse, every piece was a reminder that my hidden-self wanted Maverick to be the one to introduce me to said pleasures.
What?!
I walked and took in more of the exquisite art. The painting I was now viewing was called Eros, and it was no less sexy than any of the others. It depicted a bare woman, with ample hips and ass. Her full breasts spilled in front of her and she was perched seductively on a jagged rock. Her dreamy gaze was cast over her shoulder, her back arched.
I swallowed.
What the hell was Nichola thinking about when she created this crap? I wondered. Probably Linkie.
Anytime the two of them were together, it was PDA to the n’th degree. It had gotten to the point that, whenever they invited me out with them, I declined. For one, I wasn’t up to feeling like a third wheel, and secondly, seeing them in action reminded me of what I didn’t have, but worse, what I wanted.
I peered at the piece, squinting a little to take in the details. The more I looked, the hotter I became.
Is the air conditioner working in here?
This woman was horny. I could tell by the way her nipples were pebbling, as if they were calling for the warm, wet mouth of her lover. They were aching to be licked, sucked. Her hands were covering her crotch and two of her fingers were inching towards her sex.
My lips parted and something stirred low in my belly.
“Do you like this piece?”
I swung around, startled by the vibration of a deep voice slicing into my lewd thoughts. When I turned, I was face to face with a patron who was as tall as a bean pole and equally as attractive. His dark brown eyes twinkled, and his full lips were tilted, displaying a handsome smile.
“Oh, um…” I rubbed the back of my neck and turned back to the piece. “It’s very interesting. I was just admiring how liberated this character is.”
“She’s very free,” he commented with a couple of nods. “In fact, I notice that in most of the paintings and sculptures, the women are care-free, with complete abandon. Even the ones in which they are bound, they’re still in control.”
Yes, I’d seen those ones. In fact, in one of them, the woman was tied to a pole with red, satin ribbon, completely naked and ready to be taken. The paradox was uncanny. These women were engaged in shameful acts, yet they appeared redeemed and uninhibited.
‘Heaven is reserved for the Godly, and all sinners will have their place in the lake of fire, which burns forever.’
I sighed.
For as long as I could remember, I’d done the right thing, yet I felt the complete opposite of these women, now more than ever.
“My name is Aaron,” the man said, interrupting my thoughts yet again. He extended his hand and I gripped it, smiling.
“Amaris. It’s nice to meet you.”
I started to walk, and Aaron fell in step.
Unexpectedly, a pierc
ing energy sliced through my loose dress. I turned to where Maverick had been standing. He was still there, and his eyes were still on me, but the intensity behind them was enough to scorch the material off my body. His lips were pressed tight, his gaze hard.
My heart jerked and I looked away.
“So you’re an art enthusiast?” Aaron asked.
“Not quite,” I admitted. “The artist is my best friend and I’m here to support her. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate fine art, so it’s a pleasure to be here. I guess I wasn’t expecting… all of this.”
Aaron laughed. “It’s definitely very contemporary,” he said, “but it’s refreshing. Your friend is a rule-breaker. She’s a risk taker.”
Rule-breaker. Risk taker.
“Her art is fabulous. In fact, I already bought a piece for my apartment.”
We continued to walk, and Aaron attempted to take the conversation deeper. Now he was asking me what I did for a living and if I was from the area. The conversation was pleasant enough, but I couldn’t shake the burn from Maverick’s eyes.
Every now and then, my gaze would drift in his direction. When I saw a woman gliding his way, my insides evaporated.
Maverick’s attention turned from me and he was looking at the woman who resembled a life-sized barbie doll, complete with waves of flowing, golden hair and electric blue eyes.
I looked away, trying to attend to the things Aaron was saying, but without my consent, my eyes were drawn back.
Now, the woman was running a manicured nail down the length of Maverick’s shirt. Maverick bent down and whispered something in her ear, and the barbie doll threw her head back and tittered.
He looked at me.
I looked away.
Aaron was still talking. “I’m gonna head over to the bar and get a drink,” he said. “Do you want anything?”
“Sure,” I blurted. “I’d like a Long Island Iced Tea.” Long Islands were made using five types of hard alcohol and a splash of soda. It would be the quickest way to get inebriated, and for some reason, that was exactly what I wanted, even though I’d never been drunk in my life. Tonight seemed like a good time to start the trend.
Five Years Page 10
