LOVING THE HEAD MAN (9 page)

FOUR

       “I’m in here, Brianna!” Robert yelled out as soon as Bree entered his penthouse apartment.  He had buzzed her up and had told her that the door would be unlocked, so she had entered without knocking.  Now she stood in a living room that was as large as she’d ever seen, filled with floor-to-ceiling curtain-less windows that overlooked the magnificent Chicago skyline, and she immediately felt different. 

       Chicago was a wonderful sight to see at night, Bree thought.  In fact, as she followed the sound of Robert’s voice through the living
room ,
through the huge dining hall, and into the kitchen, the floor-to-ceiling windows were so prevalent that she felt as if the Chicago skyline was as much a part of this home as the furniture, or even Robert himself. 

       Everything looked so rich and elegant to Bree, so outside of what she was accustomed to, that she began to feel a sense of accomplishment again, although coming to Robert’s apartment tonight, particularly with what she knew he had in mind for her, would hardly qualify as any kind of achievement.  And especially not the kind she would go around bragging about.

       The aroma of fresh, steaming vegetables met her as she rounded yet another corner and entered the classically-appointed kitchen.  Robert was standing at the granite-top center island, chopping more vegetables and tossing them into a wok on the tabletop stove, when she entered.

       When Robert looked up and saw her, looking so refreshing to him in her low-cut, spaghetti-strapless, pullover yellow silk blouse, her jeans and heels, he felt a sudden burst of warmth toward her.  “Hello, there,” he said with a grand smile.   Although she looked pleased to see him, he could also still see a little apprehension deep within her big, expressive eyes.

       “Hi, Mr. Colgate,” Bree said, feeling a little more at ease when she saw Robert. 

       “Mr. Colgate?” Robert said.  “No ma’am, not here.  I’m Robert to you, young lady.”

       Bree smiled.  “I stand corrected,” she said as she began sitting on the center island stool directly across from him.  “When you asked me to have dinner with you, somehow I didn’t expect you to be cooking it.”

       “Ah, you expected a chef.”

      
“Or takeout, yes.”

       Robert laughed. 
“Takeout, Brianna?
  Come on.  Why in the world would you think I’d do that to you?”

      
Because nobody else had ever pampered her a day in her life.
 
Because she was so not used to anyone going any extra miles for her.
  “It just never occurred to me,
that’s
all,” she ultimately said.

       She looked at him as he worked.  He wore a light blue, pullover V-neck shirt that gave wonderful definition to his stark blue eyes, and Bree feasted herself on his broad shoulders, his strong chest, his muscular arms.  And not for the first time she wondered how it would feel to have a man like him easing his rob inside of her, making her wet, making her come.  It had been so long since she last had had some, not since she was fooling around with Malcolm, an activist law student who recently got hired at a Mississippi firm specializing in civil rights, who couldn’t understand why she would want to leave his beloved state to try and get a job in the kind of elitist, corporate America he despised. 
And especially at a firm like Colgate’s.
 
       “They don’t even do pro bono work,” Malcolm had complained when Bree told him of her plans.  “They only defend the rich and powerful, never the poor.  And you want to work at a place like that?” 

       For Malcolm, becoming a lawyer was all about helping right the wrongs of injustices everywhere.  For Bree, it was all about ending vicious cycles, about keeping her family from falling apart, about earning the kind of living that would ensure that her younger siblings didn’t have to struggle too.  It was all about keeping the promises she made to her father.

       After Robert lifted the wok to give his vegetables one final toss, he lowered the heat to simmer, wiped his hands with the towel he had thrown over his shoulder, sat same towel on the countertop, and then gave Bree his undivided attention.

       “You look pretty,” he said, his eyes tracing her face and then moving down to her blouse. “I like that color on you.”

       Bree blushed to the roots of her hair when he said that.  Was she
being
too obvious here, dressing in what was probably provocative clothing given her usual business attire?  Did she like the attention he was giving to her, and was playing it up?  That certainly wasn’t her intention.  She just wanted to look good tonight.  For some reason, she didn’t want to disappoint him tonight.

       But she remembered what her father had said when she couldn’t seem to accept compliments he would give to her.  “Just say thank-you,” he’d say, “and keep on truckin’.”

       “Thank-you,
“ Bree
said to Robert.

      
“How about a drink?”
 

      
“Sounds good.”

       Bree got off of the stool as he poured their drinks, and walked over to the opened French doors that led to the balcony.  She leaned against the doorjamb and allowed the wind to blow through her braids. 

       Robert came up behind her.  She felt his presence, could sniff his wonderful masculine scent, but she didn’t turn around. 

       “Like the view?” he asked her, looking, not at the view, but down the length of her, imagining her body beneath his.

       “Who wouldn’t?” she said.  “I could stand here all day, wouldn’t get anything done.  This kind of view would be very counterproductive for me.”

       Robert smiled. 
Handed her a drink.
  “Here’s to you, kid,” he said, lifting his wine glass. 

       Bree smiled, lifted hers, and they clanked. 

       And the evening was just as relaxing for her.  Robert was the perfect gentleman, as he wined and dined her, told silly jokes and laughed at her sillier ones.  It wasn’t until later that night, after dinner, when they were seated on his living room sofa, did what she knew was the point of the evening all along, begin to take shape.

       He had crossed his legs, with wine glass in hand, and was staring at her.   She was up, checking out his CD collection. 

       “Jazz, jazz, and more jazz,” she said. 
“Especially Thelonious Monk.”

       “He’s a master,” Robert said.

      
“Better than Charlie Parker?”

       “Don’t know if I’d go that far,” Robert said and Bree laughed.  And she sat down beside him. 

       “I like jazz okay.  But I wouldn’t go out and buy any jazz records or anything like that.”

       Robert turned his body toward her, and considered her.  “What kind of music relaxes you?” he asked her.

        “I don’t have a favorite genre,” she said.  “Not really.  I mean, I’m not much of a music person.” 

       “Just work, work, and more work. 
Right?”

      
“Mostly, yeah.”

       “Too much work, Brianna,--”

       “I know.”

       “So if not music, what do you like to do to relax?”

       The way he was looking at her, staring at her neck, her shoulders,
her
mouth, her hair, made Bree well aware that his question was loaded for bear.  “Several things,” she said, staring back at him.  The wine was giving her a buzz, and she knew it, was making her too relaxed,
too
willing to sway to Robert’s faint, but undeniable beat.

       “Name one?” he asked her, moving closer toward her.

       Bree smiled.  She couldn’t think of anything.  “Several things,” she said again.

       “You know how I like to relax?” he asked her, moving closer still.

       She looked at him.  His eyes were by now lust-filled.  “How?” she asked, her heart beginning to pound.
       He sat his wine glass, and hers, onto the side table.  “Like this,” he said as he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her in small kisses, and then in a deep-throated, sensual
slather
.  He loved the way she tasted, loved the way she made him feel so heady, like no wine in this world could give him this kind of buzz. 

       Bree loved it too, and relaxed in the enjoyment of him. 

       “And like this,” he said, as he pulled down the spaghetti straps of her blouse, as her sizeable breasts popped out into what Robert saw as two beautiful black, juicy bulbs.  He began kissing and licking them, squeezing them and sucking the nipples. 

       Bree leaned her head back, her neck fully exposed, as she felt the sensations rip through her entire body.  He got down on his knees as he continued to kiss and suck her, and began to unbutton and unzip her jeans.         

       She didn’t realize he had already unbuttoned and unzipped his own pants, his penis hanging out in a long, thick, massive erection, and had
them
bunched down below his knees, until she finally looked down.  He lifted her small body when she looked down, and in one fell swoop slipped completely off her jeans, panties and heels, rendering her entirely naked from the waist down.

       “And like this,” he said as his head moved down and he began to lick and suck her stomach, her thighs, her mound, and ultimately, her womanhood. 

       When he began licking and sucking her womanhood, she leaned her body back on her elbows, unable to contain such sensual feelings, her body too ripe, too ready, too sex-starved to not grow wet with hunger.  His tongue was expert, as he buried his head between her legs, as she grabbed his full head of silky brown hair in her hands to ease, to not ease, his explorations.  She had never, not ever, felt this way before.

       Robert knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.  Not the way Bree smelled and tasted and turned him on to such an extent that his manhood was expanding almost beyond his skin.  He stood up and stepped out of his pants.  He slipped off his shirt, revealing to Bree a body of iron abs and a penis so thick, so massive, that she almost licked her lips.  She wanted this. 

       Robert wanted her too, wanted her even more as he was kissing her womanhood, as he had taken his fingers inside of her to moisture her, to feel the fit.  She was tight and narrow, the way he loved it, but he was also concerned, given his massive size, that this may be too painful for her.  As he reached down and took her into his arms, and carried this cherished woman into his bedroom, he knew he had to take it easy.  His fear, his greatest concern, was that, given that it was Brianna, he wasn’t going to be able to.