Redemption (Iris Series) (7 page)

“Bye, sweetie.”  Then Ayanna made a kissing sound into the phone and disconnected.  “I’m so sorry, Eugene, but I need to cut our evening short.”  She reached for her bag.

“Oh.  I’m sorry to hear that.  What happened?”  He continued eating.  Unbelievable.

“My sister’s fiancé broke up with her and she’s in hysterics.  I really need to get home to her.  Again, I’m sorry.  But thanks so much for dinner.  I’m sure I’ll see you at the gym some time.”  She got up.  He didn’t even stand when she got up.

Un-fuckin-believable.

“You’re really leaving?  She can’t handle it on her own?  I didn’t get to finish telling you about the match against the guys from Westchester.”

“Some other time, Eugene.  I gotta go.  Thanks, again.”  She gave him a smile and a wave, then left the restaurant. 

……

She ran for the subway.  Holy MF-er.  That may have been the worst date she had ever been on.  Like, of all the dates in the history of dates.  She pulled out her phone and called Jon.

He answered on the second ring.

“So?  What happened?” he chuckled. 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke and it made her want to giggle.  She had really been looking forward to this date a few hours ago.  But if she was going to be truthful, she had been looking even
more forward to the end of the date.  She had really wanted to talk with Jonathan afterwards.  She’d discovered it was nice to have a guy to talk to with no strings attached.  It wasn’t her M.O. at all, which was probably why she found it so refreshing.

“It was a train wreck.  Like such a train wreck that even if I hadn’t decided to abstain from sex,
and I really wanted to piss off my parents, I still wouldn’t have had sex with him.”

He chuckled.  “Wow.  That is a train wreck.  What did he do?”

“He didn’t even ask me about myself.  Like never one question.  And the restaurant
?
Yikes.”

He continued laughing, sounding very pleased with himself.  “He was boring as shit, wasn’t he?”

“Shut the fuck up.  No one asked you, anyway.”

“He was, wasn’t he?” he asked with glee.

“Yes, he was boring as shit, now leave me the hell alone.”

“
You
called
me
, Miss Potty Mouth,” he pointed out with a chuckle.

“I know.  I’m beginning to wonder why,” she muttered.

“Next time maybe you’ll listen to me.  So.  No more dates?  That’s it?”

“That’s it for now,” she mumbled.

“How long are you planning on trying this no sex thing for?”

“Until I’ve reflected enough.”  For some reason, she wanted to see where he was going with this before telling him of her 40 day limit.

“Uh, huh.  And when will that be?”

Ayanna cocked her head.  “Why so interested, Johnny Be Good?”

“When did I downgrade from ‘Baby’?”

She smirked.  “Stop being so evasive.  Why are you so interested in my sex life?  Or my lack of one, in this case?”

“I think you should decide on a time frame.  That way you have a goal to set for yourself on your reflection and all that.”

“You’re such a teacher.”  She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her.

“Yes, I am.  And trust me.  You should set a goal and a time.  It will make the achievement of it that much more rewarding.”

She finally gave in and smiled.  “I
have set a time frame, actually.  I chose 40 days, like Lent.  You know, that sacrificial time for Christians?”

“Ah yes, I know it well.  I’m a former altar boy myself.”

“That soooo doesn’t surprise me.” 

“What can I say?  My parents are devout Catholics.  Well, good then.  So, what day are you on?”

“Today marks Day 24.”

“Wow.  So that means you started…”

She could tell his wheels were turning and he was counting back the days.

“Did you start...on the 4th of July?”

Busted.  “That was when I decided to do it, yes,” she sighed.

There was a long pause, then he said, “Huh.”

She didn’t want him to analyze too much, so she quickly moved forward with a thought that entered her mind.

“I forgot to tell you that I also gave up pizza along with the sex.”  She sighed.  “My two favorite things.”

“Wait.  Why the pizza?”

“Because then this life changing experience can also be used for my food blog.  Might as well kill two birds with one stone.  The point in giving up the sex is so I can get to know myself better and to appreciate sex on a deeper level when my time limit is up.  The point in giving up the
pizza
is so I can describe what it’s like to give up a favorite food for a time, and then write about the experience in my blog.” 

“When was the last time you had pizza?”

“I only cheated once, last night,” she moaned, thinking of the little artisan pizzas still in her fridge.  “Janie brought some little artisan ones over yesterday as a housewarming gift so I
had
to try one.  And it wasn’t like your typical mozzarella and tomato sauce, so I’m kinda justifying it in my head.  I mean, it was really just a cracker and melted cheese, right?  I used to have traditional pizza several times a week, so I just need to make it through,” she did a quick mental count, “the next 16 days.”

“Okay.  And when was the last time you had sex?” 

“Whoa there, Johnny.”

“I’m just asking.  Will you have reflected enough by Day 40?”

She thought back to the last time she’d had sex.  Even though she didn’t want to admit it to him, her last sexual experience had been about a week before the first night she’d met him at the apartment.  That had been practically two months ago.  It didn’t seem possible that it had really been that long since she’d had a good roll in the hay.  When you added in the remaining days left to her fast, she’d be going on three months!

Dear Lord.  This was going to be the longest she’d ever gone without sex since she’d turned 18.  The first 24 days were hard, but bumping into Jonathan on a regular basis was going to make this experience exponentially more difficult.

No,
she scolded herself.  That was the point of this whole exercise.  It was supposed to be hard.  So she could learn from it.

“You still there?” he asked.

She mentally shook herself.  “Yup.  And if you must know, Mr. Busybody, I hadn’t had sex for a bit before I started counting.  So, Day 41 will be the culmination of a lot more days than when I actually last had sex.  And Day 41 doesn’t exactly mean I’m gonna jump right back in, it just means that’s the time limit I’ve given myself.  I want to make sure the next guy is,” she paused, “right.” She cleared her throat.  “That it means something.”

There was a significant pause, then, “Okay.  Well, looks like 16 days to go then, or until you’ve reflected enough.”

She sighed.  “I need you to meet me at my place when I get home.  I have the leftover pizzas from Janie that I need to get out of my apartment.  The temptation is gonna be too much and I can’t throw them away.”  She began talking to herself.  “I need to start journaling about the pizza cravings so I can start constructing what the blog article is going to look like,” she muttered.  Her mind was going in a thousand directions, thinking through how she was going to write it.

“You mean I get to be the one who helps remove your temptation?  I’m happy to assist.  Your pizzas will be safe with me.  I’ll keep them right in my stomach for you.”

She growled.  Jerk.

“Any time you need help with those
temptations you just let me know, Yan.”

She heard his smile again and couldn’t help but feel the heat of arousal.  Oh, he could help her alright.  Unfortunately, he was going to be the biggest temptation of all.

“I’m at the station.  I’ll be home in a few.”  She disconnected, not allowing him to say goodbye. She was still a couple of minutes away and needed to compose herself to be ready for his presence.  Just thinking of the man made her wet with need.

And dammit.  She forgot to get the fucking batteries again. 

……

She arrived at the apartment complex only a short time later and as she got off the elevator, she turned and nearly melted into the floor.  There he was in a fitted white V neck
t-shirt, dark jeans, and bare foot, leaning up against the wall by her door waiting for her.  Looking delectable as usual.

He pushed off from the wall and gave her an appreciative once over, then he cleared his throat.  “You look pretty,” he said quietly looking decidedly uncomfortable as she approached.

“Thank you,” she responded, a bit surprised at his sweet comment.  Then she couldn’t resist when she said, “Is my clothing appropriate, Mr. White?  Not too short, not too tight?” she asked saucily, twirling around for him to see the whole package.  She was wearing a tangerine colored sleeveless wrap dress that hit her just above the knee and clung in all the right places.  High heeled metallic sandals and accessories finished off her outfit.

His jaw looked tight, as he said, “I’ve got news for you, Yan.  Even when the outfit isn’t too short or too tight, you still make it inappropriate.  Because I promise you, no man is thinking appropriate thoughts when you walk in the room.”

That stopped her and she flushed at his words.  Was that his way of complimenting her beauty?  Or was he saying that no matter what she wore, she would always be seen as a slut? 
Or
was he saying that he was one of those men who had inappropriate thoughts about her? 

He’d insulted her choice of clothes at the barbeque a few weeks back, so given their conversational history, she couldn’t tell what he was saying.

“
You
don’t though.  Think inappropriate thoughts, I mean.”  She raised her eyebrows in challenge.  “Do you?”

He pressed his lips together and looked at her grimly, then said, “Just open the door.”

She turned to do as he said and muttered, “No response?  You never seem to be scrambling for words.  Why now?”

He put his hand on the door to stop her then put his hand on her shoulder turning her to face him.  He caged her in and stepped close.  Leaning in, he backed her into her front door.  His jean clad legs and white t-shirt hugged his body.  His bare feet gave him the appearance that he’d just run down from his place for a sec.  She licked her lips.  She’d never seen him look so yummy.

She inhaled and smelled his toothpaste, his subtle aftershave, and butterflies let loose in her stomach as she looked into his eyes which were only a couple of inches above her own because of her four inch heels. 

His eyes bore into her.  He looked pissed.  And hot.

“You know what, Ayanna?  I can’t seem to win with you, can I?”  He shifted closer and pointedly looked at her lips, then met her eyes again.  “I told you, you looked pretty.  What the fuck do you want from me?  Do you want me to tell you that I think about tearing your clothes off when I’m in the same room with you, let alone when you’re
not
in my presence?  Or that I want to fuck you so badly, my balls ache?  Is that what you want me to say?”

Holy fuck.  She blinked.  Back it up there, buddy.  Did he just say what she think he just said? 

“What—?” she started.

“What, nothing.  You’re a gorgeous, fucking
beautiful woman and you
know
you are.  So, stop trying to push me.  Dammit.”  He was stammering a bit and stepped back to run his hand through his hair and down his face, pinching at his eyes under his glasses.

“How am I pushing you?”  She wanted to devour the man right then and there.  “I thought maybe you were insulting me when you said
—”

“Just open the damn door, Ayanna, and let’s have this conversation inside, please,” he said in a furious whisper.

She turned angrily toward the door, exhaling sharply and showing her annoyance.  What the hell was he mad at her for?  Shit.  This man made her fucking nuts.

She jerked the key into the lock and slammed open the door.  He followed her in and closed it behind him.  She kept on walking, threw her bag on the floor, and then marched right into the kitchen to get him Janie’s pizzas.

He was right behind her.

She opened the fridge, and he slammed it back shut.

“What?!  What the fuck, Jon?”  She lifted up her hands in confusion, then dropped them to the counter behind her as she leaned against it.  “What is it?  You want to tear my clothes off?  Fuck me because your balls ache?  Or yell at me for dressing inappropriately?  Which is it this time?”

“How on earth could you have thought I was insulting you?” 

She crossed her arms.  “First you say I look pretty, then the next thing you say is that no matter what I’m wearing, men will still think inappropriate thoughts about me.  What does that backhanded compliment mean?  That men think of me as a slut?” 

She was realizing she definitely had slut issues.

“And that’s what you think I meant when I said that?”