The Legend of Arturo King

by L. B. Dunbar

Arturo

  I knew immediately that I had fucked up. I had pushed too much too fast, and Guinevere’s response to me after the guys left the barn proved it. Her back was turned to me as she returned her bra to cover herself and pulled her T-shirt over her head. She wasn’t speaking and my attempts to meet her eyes were denied. I waited until she was dressed completely, and was reaching for her cello when I cupped her chin.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Arturo, I…” she looked like she wanted to say more, but she clamped her lips tight, twisting them to hold in the words.

  I scanned her face for hints. “I fucked this up, didn’t I?”

  “It’s not … It’s just…” she stopped her words a second time, biting her lip as she kept her eyes downcast despite my hold on her chin.

  “Look at me, Guinie.”

  Her eyes avoided mine and glanced toward the now-closed barn door.

  “Guinie?”

  She slowly dragged her lake-blue eyes to my face.

  “I’m sorry. I went too far, didn’t I? I messed up. I didn’t mean to, but I did. You’re just a temptress, and I lose control.” I tried to laugh softly to lessen the tension, but Guinie wasn’t responding to my attempts.

  Her eyes now scanned my face.

  “I’m embarrassed. That was awful. I don’t know what you’re used to, but I’m not used to that.”

  “What do you mean, ‘what I’m used to’?”

  “I don’t know. You guys sharing or something?” She shrugged a shoulder and turned her eyes away again.

  “Sharing? We don’t share. I would never share, and I especially would never share you.” My tone gave away my rising anger. “Look,” I drew a deep breath before I continued, “the past couple nights have been really special to me. And last night? Last night was everything to me. I don’t want to make light of it, and I don’t want you to make light of it either. I’m only sharing you with me.”

  She smiled slightly at that comment and leaned forward to rest her head on my shoulder like she had when she was hiding her face from the guys. The last thing I would have done was let anyone see her gorgeous breasts, her taut nipples, or her look of ecstasy. Those things were mine, and mine alone. After last night, I would never allow another person to have Guinevere DeGrance. She belonged to me.

  I wanted to make it up to her, but now wasn’t the time to show her how I felt. I would have loved to drag her back to where we were with my mouth on her skin, sucking and licking, thirsting like I’d never have another drink again, but I knew that moment was lost and Guinie needed some space from me. She was suddenly shy, almost as shy as she had been when I first met her, and I didn’t like it. I wanted her to feel sexy, because she was, but I wanted her to feel treasured as well.

  I kept my distance the rest of the day and hung with the guys. As we wrapped up, Tristan was the one to linger behind in the barn.

  “Dude, sorry about earlier,” he said hesitantly as he wiped a hand up the back of his neck.

  “No worries,” I shrugged.

  “Guinie seemed to think it was a big deal,” he laughed and I knew he was referring to her immediate exit from the kitchen after our entrance to find the room crowded with the band.

  I sighed.

  “I fucked up, man. She … she just drives me crazy,” and I had to bite my lip to hide the goofy smile I knew was spreading across my face.

  Tristan narrowed his eyes at me and I ducked out of his gaze to straighten some wires on the floor.

  “You like her,” he said quietly.

  “Of course I like her,” I said, turning my head in his direction.

  “No, dude, I mean, you really like her like her.”

  “What, are we in high school?” I laughed to dispel the conversation, but Tristan’s eyes narrowed further at me.

  “Do you,” he interrupted himself with a choking sound, “do you love her?”

  “I don’t know, man.” My face must have betrayed me because I knew my voice had turned serious. I think I did love her. No, I didn’t just think, I knew. I knew I loved Guinie.

  She had given me the greatest gift the night before. Not just a birthday present, but a precious gift. She had given herself to me. A moment most women want to treasure and keep secure for a man they love, and she shared it with me, which might mean only one thing. She possibly loved me in return.

  My face contorted again and Tristan laughed. I wasn’t sure what he saw so funny in my expression, but maybe it was the shock that Arturo King had finally fallen in love.

  I couldn’t wait to get to Guinie after that revelation, but I found myself trapped again by Kaye and Leo. I thanked God that Leo hadn’t been the one to walk in the barn to see me having my way with his daughter.

  “I’ve thought about what we discussed last night,” I said to the surprise of the two men.

  “You have?” Kaye laughed.

  “Already?” Leo added.

  “I have, and I’ve decided it sounds like a great idea. As long as I am still controlling partner, I trust you two to take over the company. What is it, chief financial officer for Kaye? And what do we call you, Leo?”

  “You can give me whatever title you want,” he laughed as he clapped his hands once and looked at Kaye. Leo must have seen something in Kaye’s face because immediately his own dropped.

  “What?” Leo asked Kaye.

  “That was too easy,” Kaye said looking at me instead of Leo.

  “What do you mean?” Leo added.

  “He agreed too quickly.” Kaye stared at me questioningly. “There has to be something more? What else do you want?”

  “Why does there have to be something more?” I smiled with a half-smile.

  “Because I know you and there always is. What is it?”

  I felt Leo’s eyes on me, full of puzzlement. He seemed to be holding his breath while I took my time to address Kaye. Kaye did know me well.

  Was there something else I wanted? My mind immediately raced to Guinie. She had been embarrassed by getting caught in the barn, and I had fucked it up because she turned me on. But it wasn’t only sexual. It was more than that. She turned me on in every way important. She was my muse. She could play music. She understood me. She listened to me. She asked me what I wanted. There was something else I wanted.

  “Actually,” I started but was interrupted.

  “I knew it.” Kaye slapped his hand on his own thigh, and turned away to look out the window behind him in the study.

  “What? What?” Leo’s voice was rising in a panic I had never known the stronger man to possess.

  “I would like Guinevere to be involved.”

  I watched as Leo’s shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh of relief. He looked at Kaye as if to say, see, everything is fine, but Kaye had turned his body to face me and he leaned against the window instead, crossing his arms over his chest. He twisted his lips in a knowing manner. There was more.

  “How?” Kaye finally asked.

  It hit me square in the chest. It was an epiphany moment as my mind wandered back to the barn. Guinie was upset that the guys might have seen her and I tried to make light of it, like it would have been no big deal. But deep down I knew it would have been a very big issue for me. I didn’t want them to see her the way I saw her. Her eyes as they sparkled. Her sighs before she came. Her body as it moved with mine. I didn’t want anyone to ever see her the way I saw her.

  “I’d like your permission to ask Guinie to be my wife,” I addressed a stunned Leo.

  The silence that followed that statement weighed ten-thousand pounds.

  “I’m not selling my daughter to make a deal,” Leo said, rising up from his seat on one of the leather chairs surrounding the low coffee table. “No.”

  Kaye straightened from his leaning position as well and stared at me hard.

  “Why?” Kaye demanded.

  “I care about her and she’s good for me.” I smiled confidently.

  “Care about her?” Leo laughed without hu
mor. “You care about a guitar, not a woman. Not my daughter.”

  I wasn’t going to admit to Leo my true feelings before I told them to Guinevere.

  “Leo, this is good,” Kaye interjected. “Arturo will settle down and after this tour, his focus will be more centered on growing Camelot Records. Not to mention, Guinie has been the inspiration for Arturo’s songwriting. She’s his muse.”

  Leo took a long, hard stare at me, and I tried not to blink. I was serious; I wanted Guinevere as my wife.

  That night I entered Guinie’s room through the connection to my own to find her getting ready for bed. She had been silent during dinner like she had been the first night I invited her to Ingrid’s apartment in the city. Leo looked concerned and his questioning eyes at me showed his disapproval again at the suggestion of Guinevere being my wife. Leo hadn’t declined my proposal exactly, but I knew he still questioned the purpose of it.

  I was still trying to give Guinevere space so when she excused herself from the table, I didn’t follow immediately. As I entered her room, it was obvious she was still hesitant toward me.

  “Arturo? I don’t think we should sleep together tonight,” she said softly, addressing me through her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace in her room.

  “No,” I spoke forcefully as I walked up behind her. I met her eyes reflected in the glass.

  “Excuse me?” She blinked.

  “We don’t have to have sex again tonight, but we are definitely sharing a bed. Yours. Mine. I don’t care. But I am not sleeping without you.” My voice was demanding.

  She stared at me through the reflection for a moment before she bit her lip, giving in without speaking the words. I stepped closer to her and rubbed my hands up and down her upper arms then leaned forward to kiss her bare shoulder. I let the kiss linger and, when she didn’t push me away, I moved my lips to the side of her neck. She still didn’t resist. As a matter of fact, she leaned her head in the opposite direction, exposing more skin to my lips. I continued to kiss up her neck to just below her ear.

  “Guinie?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “Time for bed,” my sultry voice spoke in her ear.

  She only nodded in concession. My hand slid down to her arm to gently take her hand in mine and lead her to the edge of the bed. I slowly peeled the strap of her cami over her shoulders, dragging the thin ribbon-like material down enough to reveal her breasts.

  “Arturo? You just said no sex.”

  “I did. And I meant it, but we are getting as close to naked as possible so I can feel your skin against mine.”

  “Arturo,” she said softly, but it was more like a throaty moan of pleasure.

  At her waist, I removed the cami-sleep shirt and her shorty sleep shorts in one move. Standing before me in only her bikini-cut panties, I stepped back to tug off my own shirt and slid my own jeans down. I stood before her in my black boxer briefs.

  Picking her up under her arms, I quickly set her down on the edge of the bed and stared at her for a moment: the light pink of her nipples, the soft white of her skin, the contrasting brown hair with those lake-blue eyes. I had never seen anyone as beautiful, and I had seen a lot of women. I needed to be close to her. I needed to show her how I felt without words.

  “Guinie, let me taste you again?”

  “Arturo,” she said, but she sighed and her eyes lit up. I wouldn’t push her, but I wanted her again, and I knew if she wouldn’t give in tonight, I had to take her somehow.

  Gently I laid her back down as I kissed her deeply, letting my tongue invade her mouth in hopes to relax her. My hands massaged down her arms as I kissed a path straight down her middle, between her breasts, across her stomach, to the edge of her panties. I used my teeth to tug down the band and let my hands glide the thin ribbon elastic down her hips. She was fully exposed to me and my mouth watered with anticipation. I blew air onto her heat and she moaned audibly, sighing my name in the sound. I kissed my way up her inner thigh, occasionally blowing on her, listening to her continue to sigh until it became a plea. She wanted me and I would not deny her.

  My tongue hit the wet folds of her and her hips flinched upward to collide with my mouth. Holding her steady with my hands, I continued to divide her, using my tongue to do what another part of my body longed to experience again. I slid it in and out, sucking on her lower lips, and tonguing her like I would her mouth. I added a finger to my rhythm as I traced the outside of her before sliding it deep into her. Her approving moan was loud and I added a second finger, alternating between fingers and tongue in a frenzy of motion.

  I knew she gripped the comforter and her hips were pressing into the hand trying to hold her down. I shifted my hand to grip her ass and lift her upward to meet my mouth better. She cried out as I felt her clench against my lips and I lapped her up until I was satisfied that she was depleted for the moment.

  I stood up, her legs spread wide around my own as they dangled off the bed.

  “Guinie, I’ll be honest. I want to make love to you again. Right now. But I’ll step back if you ask me to.” I was trying to keep the whining out of my voice, but I was prepared to beg if I had to.

  “Take me, Arturo,” she said and I let go of my shock to slide down my underwear, reach for a condom in her bedside drawer, and slip into her wetness that was exaggerated after my feast on her. She cried out again as I slid into her hard at first. I slowed after the initial thrust, pulling to the edge of her before sliding back in to fill her.

  Her head rolled from one side slowly to the other, before she looked up at me.

  “Faster,” she whispered. I loved it. She had a naughty side and she was only now discovering it. She was discovering it with me and I relished the empowerment of being her first, teaching her what she liked and encouraging her to take it from me.

  I picked up the pace, slamming into her. I needed to hold her hips to the edge of the bed so as not to force her farther to the middle. She met my thrusts by gripping the edge of the mattress and pushing herself toward me. We matched a quick-pace rhythm, moaning on each collision as I completed her before teasing her by drawing back to the edge of her entrance. Quicker. Faster. Harder. We came together and I held her hips upward to press against me, letting myself release inside her in waves. I may have seen small dots of silver flash before my eyes.

  I leaned down to balance over her, still inside her.

  “That was incredible, Guinie.”

  She sighed as she reached up and kissed the tip of my nose. Her only response was a moan of contentment.

  I cleaned her up and we rolled into each other when I climbed into bed. Tucking her into my chest, I kissed her forehead.

  “I thought you said no sex,” she whispered in a groggy, satisfied voice.

  “That wasn’t sex, Guinie Girl. That was making love.”

  She was silent now and I hesitated.

  “Guinie?” I began and she responded with a sleepy sounding, “Hmm?”

  “I think I love you, Guinie.”

  She didn’t answer and I held my breath until I pulled back to see that she was already asleep.

  Guinevere

  Arturo thought I was sleeping, but I heard his soft whisper. Unfortunately, by the next morning, I was too nervous to question him on whether he meant what he said. The rest of our time in upstate New York was spent attending dinner at Ingrid’s, boat rides on Lake Avalon, and lazy afternoons in Arturo’s pool. We’d spent another day with Morte and I could see the slow blossoming of a changing relationship between father and son. Fortunately, we did not see Ana other than at Ingrid’s home.

  The band quickly got over seeing me almost naked in the barn despite my continued embarrassment. Tristan was so good-natured I had to laugh at any comment made at my expense, and Perk only joked that he was disappointed to miss the show, but Lansing remained silent on the situation. He hardly looked in my direction after that incident.

  We left Lake Avalon on Sunday night and I had a foreboding feeling that our
exit from the lake district was the end of our relationship. Arturo had been more than kind to arrange the upcoming interview and at moments I felt I owed him. I never in my wildest dreams planned on being with him physically. He was Arturo King, and a slow flutter of pain radiated through me as I thought of … whatever it was we had … ending. Even if he said he thought he loved me, it was only a thought after mind-blowing sex. It wasn’t a definitive statement.

  I was generally quiet on the four-hour ride south to the city. Arturo tried to engage me in conversation but gave up after the fifth one-word answer. As we entered Manhattan, the traffic filled in and we were trapped longer than expected in the car.

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Arturo asked.

  “A little,” was all I offered.

  He angled his wrist over the steering wheel and looked out his side window, shaking his head slightly. I was suddenly aware of the tension between us and I knew I was the cause of it.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, hating the whine in my voice.

  “What’s wrong?” His tone was angry. “You tell me. What’s going on here, Guinie?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Exactly. You’ve said nothing this whole ride home. What is it?”

  I couldn’t admit to him my concerns. My fear. Our relationship … or whatever it was … was about to end. I could feel it in my heart, something terrible was going to happen, and the slow burn became a dull ache. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was having a panic attack.

  “I … I don’t know what to say.” I wrung my hands together nervously and when he noticed he reached for me. Pulling one hand to his lips, he kissed the back, moving down to my wrist as he continued to steer through the heavy traffic. He took a left onto a boulevard and I looked at him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “My place.”

  “I thought you were taking me home.”

  “I am.”

  I looked at him, confused.

  “Your home is with me, Guinie. I want you to come home with me.”

  I froze in my position, half turned to him. “I … I thought…”