A Weekend Affair (9 page)

He watched me as he long stroked me. Like a predator stalking its prey, one toying with his dinner before he ate it, Carl used his short strokes to keep me dangling over the edge. One would have thought it was my first time having sex in a while. That wasn't the case. This was what I had been missing, and it was what I needed. Carl was giving me what I wanted. Thickness. Length. He was hitting those spots that had never been touched, ones that I'd craved. Ones my husband hadn't cared to explore.

He pushed deeper, harder.

“Shit, Carl . . .”

He grunted low. Gave a guttural groan of his own.

“Your fault, Shell. Shouldn't be so damn good.”

I crooned out for him, sang a song of satisfaction with a melody of moans. He kneeled back on his haunches, hooked the back of my knees into the creases of his elbows, and lifted my ass from the bed. Blinding lights crashed against my eyes. Muscles clenched so hard in my abdomen that it almost hurt. I bit down on my bottom lip while my feet arched and flexed in response to the oncoming orgasm. I could hear the sea rocking outside my windows just as waves of my satisfaction made me hyperventilate.

Carl's upper lip twitched. Creases in his head foreshadowed his tide coming in.

“Come for me,” he demanded.

My head fell back when his hips beat against mine reminding me of wild African drums. I came for him. I came so hard that when I felt him swell and get harder inside of me, I pumped my hips harder against his. I
needed
this. I needed
la petite mort
. Chased that little fucker until he took us both down for the count.

I couldn't believe Shell talked me into bringing these men back to the beach house. They were two complete strangers, and even though we had checked them out, anything could still happen. But I had to face facts; she was a grown woman and was going to do whatever she wanted regardless of what I said. She knew what she wanted, as well as the consequences of her actions, and I couldn't have stopped her. And Lord knows I tried! As it stood, as soon as we walked through the door, Shell and Carl headed straight for her bedroom. They couldn't get there fast enough. What they were doing was anybody's guess, while I was left alone to entertain Diego.

Sure, he seemed really nice; he was funny, handsome, smart, educated, charming, light on his feet, and was a really good kisser, but I still felt a bit uncomfortable being alone with a man I had just met hours before. My mind wandered back to the part about him being a good kisser. He caught me off guard when he kissed me on the dance floor at the club. But then again, I couldn't remember the last time I had been kissed. Daniel and I had broken up six months ago, but if I really think about the last time I had been kissed, I mean kissed with any real passion, it had to be about a year ago, when I had last slept with him. Maybe longer if I really thought about it.

For me, kissing and sex were intertwined, and although I couldn't pinpoint exactly when, my needs became less and less important to Daniel. Eventually, it seemed like all he wanted to do was gets his rocks off, and once he did, he was done. And it wasn't just in the bedroom where he fell short; he completely dropped the ball in all areas of our relationship. I tolerated him and his antics for many years until I had had enough. I would have preferred to remain celibate than to settle for mediocre intimacy at the hands of someone who couldn't have cared less. And I did—for an entire year; a very
long
year.

I had been dealing with my celibacy well enough until Diego kissed me, until he opened up something within me that I had thought was dead and buried; that part of me that longed for some real romance. Unfortunately, I didn't see that happening; not tonight or any time in the near future. If anything, at most, I'd end up having a one-night stand, and that was something I didn't do . . . had never done, for that matter, let alone with someone I had just met. Besides, I didn't want Diego's first impression of me to be one of an easy female he met on his weekend at Tybee Island. With his good looks and charm, I was quite sure he had come across many, many women like that in his lifetime.

I sighed, trying to clear my head. It was close to two in the morning, but I was far from tired.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” I asked Diego as I walked into the kitchen.

“What do you have?”

Looking in the refrigerator and the cabinets, I replied, “Juice, water, wine.”

When I turned back around to look at him, I could have sworn Diego was checking me out, but then again, it could have easily been my imagination.

“Wine will do.”

I grabbed a bottle of Il Duca Imperiale 1917 Stella Rosa Rosso grape wine out of the cabinet and handed the bottle, along with the corkscrew I fished out of a drawer, to him. I took two wineglasses from the rack and motioned for Diego to follow me. The rain was coming down at a steady pace, making the already chilled night air even colder. Despite that, I led him to the screened-in porch, but not before grabbing an oversized, fluffy blanket from the linen closet near the bathroom. The heated hot tub provided some warmth and just enough light to see, but not enough to be distracting, while the large couch and loveseat made the atmosphere very inviting. I opted for the coziness of the loveseat.

Diego poured wine into the glasses that I had placed on the end table next to the love seat. Before I made myself comfortable, I took off his jacket and handed it back to him; then I sat on the loveseat, covering myself with the blanket. He put the jacket on, sat down, then picked up both glasses, handing one to me. I took a slow sip of the sweet liquid. It tasted good and made me feel a little bit warmer as it ran down my throat.

“Can I ask you question?” I inquired, taking another taste of liquid courage.

“Sure, feel free,” he replied, savoring his glass.

“How come someone like you, a man who is smart, funny, very successful, and pretty easy on the eyes, isn't married yet? I'm sure there are plenty of women who'd give their right arm, and probably the left one as well, to be Mrs. Diego Lopez-Hernandez,” I said, remembering his full name from his business card.

He laughed. “So you think I'm pretty easy on the eyes, huh?”

I shook my head, laughing with him. “Out of that entire question, that's
all
you heard? Yes, Diego, you are quite nice to look at. Now answer the question, please.”

“To be honest with you, half the time, I don't know if a woman wants to be with me, or wants to be with me for my money. Frankly, I haven't met the woman I want to marry yet, and I possibly never will.”

I appreciated where he was coming from. Someone like him definitely had to be on guard for the gold diggers of the world, and I'm sure he came across them frequently. “I understand, but never say never. I'm pretty sure one day you'll meet the woman who will make an honest man out of you,” I teased.

“Maybe, but I doubt it. And for the record, I'm always honest; some people can't handle my brand of honesty,” he quipped, as he refilled my empty wineglass. “On that same note, I could ask you the same question.”

I gladly accepted a second helping of the sweet red liquid libation. “My ex and I weren't married, but it was like a marriage.”

“Playing married and being married are two different things.”

“This coming from a man who's never been married in the first place,” I countered. “One thing is different, though. It's easier to walk away. No legalities once it's over, for the most part, unless you own property together or have kids.”

“Point taken. If you don't mind me asking, how come you two never got married? Twelve years is a long time, after all.”

It wasn't that I minded; I just got irritated with myself when I thought about the answer. “We got complacent, and I . . . settled. The years went by, and it was just easier to leave things the way they were. Plus, I guess that old phrase still applies; why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? My fault for not pressing the issue as much as I should have. Anyway, it's over, so there's no use dwelling on it now. I can tell you this, though; there's no way I will ever wait again that long for someone to decide whether he wants to get married. That's assuming I ever let someone get that close to me again.”

“Why did you two break up?” Diego queried, pouring himself another glass of wine.

“There were lots of reasons, main one being he took me for granted; thought he could treat me any kind of way, and I wouldn't go anywhere. Not that he was abusive or anything; he was just a jerk. For a long time I stuck around, until I finally wised up and realized I deserved much better.” I shrugged.

From the look on his face, I could tell Diego knew he hit a sore spot with me. He quickly changed the subject. “Are you cold?”

“No,” I replied. “Between the blanket, the steam from the hot tub, and the wine, I'm feeling pretty good. How about you?”

“I'm a bit chilly myself. Mind if we share your blanket? Don't be afraid. I don't bite . . . unless you want me too.” A broad smile crossed his lips.

I didn't know why, but Diego amused me. Yes, I knew he was running game on me, but I didn't care. I was actually enjoying our little game of cat and mouse, with him being the very big cat on the prowl. I moved toward him, placing half of the blanket across his legs. I looked into his eyes, and before I knew it, Diego had once again stolen a kiss.

I should have seen that coming, but he caught me so off guard, I almost dropped my glass. He had already placed his on the end table. Still locked in kiss, he took mine, placing it there as well. He skillfully used his tongue, licking around my lips, parting them, his tongue finding mine. I had never been kissed like that before . . . felt such heat from something as simple as a kiss. I tasted the wine on his breath. I wanted more—
needed
more.

Before I knew it, Diego pulled me on top of him, straddling his legs. His hardness pressed against me, fueling a desire building within me. Grabbing a handful of my locs, his full, moist lips moved down my neck, stopping to suck on one spot. His big hands slowly moved up my legs, sending jolts of electricity through me. He lightly traced his fingers along my thighs until they reached my firm derrière. He slid his hands down the back of my lace cheeky panties, giving both of my round mounds a strong squeeze. I let out a soft moan.

My lips found his, our tongues dancing their own tango. As I moved against him, I felt a hardness; that part of him that contained a heartbeat all its own. It pulsated, emanating heat that I could feel through his pants. He groaned low in his throat. The wind shifted direction, with the rain now coming through the holes in the screen. Small drops of rain pelted us as we enjoyed the taste and feel of each other. It was only when I saw a flash of lightning and heard the boom of thunder seconds later that I knew it was time to take our private party elsewhere.

Without a word, I led Diego upstairs to my bedroom, stopping only long enough to grab a plastic bag I had left on the kitchen counter. The room was completely dark. Not wanting to turn on the lights and kill the mood, I, instead, turned on the television, searching for the smooth jazz channel. Once the music began to play, Diego resumed his seduction. He took off my heels and lifted me up onto the bed. I was now eye level with him. I stared for a long moment into those liquid honey eyes, wondering what this man would think of me once I gave myself to him. I could stop now before we took things too far. I could, but I wasn't sure I wanted to.

“I need to tell you something,” I said, my heart beating fast.

His fingers were slowly working on the zipper on the back of my dress. “What is it?”

“I haven't been with anyone in a year.”

“I thought you said you broke up with your boyfriend six months ago,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I did, but I stopped sleeping with him long before we broke up. And just so you know, I've never, ever had a one-night stand.”

He looked at me, as if seeking my eyes for the truth.

“In that case, thank you for letting me be your first. Don't worry, I won't judge you,” he said with a grin.

Whatever reservations I had were gone, and I was his for the taking. Diego moved the spaghetti straps from my shoulders, allowing my dress to fall freely on the bed. He stepped back, surveying me. I felt as if I was on display.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

He moved in close again, scooping me up in his arms, giving me that thing that made my heart race ... that kiss, that hot, sexy, passionate kiss. After he quickly took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair, I reached down to pull his Polo shirt from inside his pants, quickly pulling it up and over his head. Now it was my turn to ogle. From his broad, strong chest, down to his hard, washboard abs, the man standing in front of me was a sight to behold. I couldn't help but run my fingertips all the way from his chest down to his abs. When I lightly brushed my fingertips over his nipples, he let out a groan.

Picking me up as if I weighed nothing, he laid me down on the bed. I watched as he shed his pants, keeping on his black boxer briefs. The man had the faintest hint of body hair, which I found quite sexy. He gently covered me with his body. His hands reached underneath my back and adroitly unhooked my strapless black bra, tossing it to the side. He kissed from my lips down to my neck, then stopped to lick and suck on my erect nipples. His hands gently squeezed each of my perky breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples.

He kissed lower, past my belly ring, until he reached my moist folds. He kissed and sucked in between my thighs, nibbled on my bud before removing my panties. His lips and tongue worked on my sensitive clit in tandem, sucking and licking, causing me to bite my lip for fear of moaning too loudly. I felt one finger enter me, moving in a
come hither
motion. My hands grabbed at the sheets as my legs wrapped around his neck. He removed his finger, licking my juices from it, replacing it with his long, thick tongue, French kissing my lips, making my walls shutter.

With his tongue still inside me and my legs around his neck, he reached his arms up underneath my back, lifting us both to a standing position. I held on for dear life as he backed me into a wall, his lips sucking on my lips and clit. I had never experienced anything like this before and probably never would again. But for the short time we were together, I was going to relish in each and every spine-tingling minute. With each thrust of his tongue I felt the tension building until, like the rain pouring outside in torrents, my flood gates opened, my juices freely flowing like Niagara Falls. He greedily sopped them up, like he had been in the desert and hadn't had water in days.

When he was done, he placed me back on the bed.

“That was sweet,” he said, the sexiest smile on his face.

I couldn't help but giggle. Almost as if teasing me, he slowly removed his boxer briefs, and what I saw left me in amazement. He was
extremely
well endowed. Long, thick, wide. No one I had been with even came close to matching what Diego was packing. It was actually somewhat intimidating, but I had come too far to stop now.

He took out a condom and was about to open it when I noticed which brand it was. It was Trojans.