Authors: Cheryl Richards
“How about now?” he asked softly.
“Oh, yeah.” My body yearned for him in a way it
never did for Sam.
Quite obviously, Lloyd knew women, and knew what
to do with them. He radiated confidence, which in itself was a big turn on.
Lloyd played with the radio and found an oldies
Motown station, playing hits by The Ojays and Jerry Butler. The smooth voices
and sensual music heightened the intimate atmosphere.
I expected him to drive me home, but he turned
off the expressway and before I knew it, he pulled into his driveway and cut
the engine.
“Do you mind?” he asked.
The moon light reflected in his eyes, making them
sparkle and his cologne was intoxicating. The answer was a definite no, with a
small shake of my head.
He came around and let me out. The night air was
bone chilling, so he put his arm around me as we hustled to the back door and
kept me warm.
He unlocked the door and I entered his home,
feeling somewhat vulnerable but not really minding the loss of control.
Rufus was waiting up. He let out a yowl that
could wake the dead. Total mood spoiler.
“Rufus,” said Lloyd, “you remember Sunny.”
Rufus blinked.
Lloyd took my coat and led me into the living
room where he flicked on a lamp. Rufus stretched, one leg at a time, and
followed us.
“Take a seat, I’ll be right back.”
I sat down on his comfy, dark brown, pillow back
sofa. His furnishings were sparse, but were of good quality. Everything looked
comfortable. The oversized matching brown chair and round ottoman, a wooden
rocker with a cushioned seat, and a large stone fireplace in front of the sofa
all seemed to fit him perfectly. Tasteful, warm and friendly.
Rufus studied me from the rocker. He sat in a
crouch position and locked eyes with me. I could see he’d win the contest, so I
looked around the room some more.
On an end table, sat a framed photo, which I
presumed to be his sister and her family. She had Lloyd’s hair color and little
else; still she was attractive just the same. Her little girls were cute, with
curly pigtails, dressed in matching T-shirts and capris. Another frame held a
group photo of Lloyd, his friend Fred whom I’d just met and his father in front
of a small log cabin holding fishing poles. It dated back more than a few
years.
Lloyd came back with an open bottle of chardonnay
and two wine glasses. He put them on the coffee table and poured until each was
half-f. Then he went to the fireplace and lit the gas log. He held up his
index finger and whispered one minute.
He disappeared and came back with a bowl of
crunchy food for Rufus, who immediately jumped down, causing the chair to rock
back and forth. With the cat busy eating, he came over to the sofa and sat
down. He handed me a glass and he took the other.
“To chance meetings,” he said. We tipped our wine
glasses so they clinked together.
I sipped some wine. Very good. I hoped it mixed
well with the beer, or I could plan on a major hangover tomorrow morning or a
spinning room tonight.
Lloyd took the glass from me and placed it on the
table next to his. He traced the side of my face with his fingertips brushing
my hair away from my face. He slid his fingers through my hair, combing it with
his fingers, pulling it slightly.
“You have pretty hair. The firelight catches the
red highlights making them look like flames.”
“Thank you. That feels so good,” I said, tilting
my head back.
He took it as an invitation and kissed my neck,
pushing me down on the sofa as he did so. I felt his arm slip around my back
and then the weight of him on me. His lips moved to my mouth and then back to
my neck. His tongue traced the V-neck of my sweater and he kissed my cleavage.
One hand slipped under my sweater and undid my
bra. Moments later, he was massaging my breasts, causing me to arch up against
him. I felt the hardness in his pants as he rubbed against me. I let out a soft
moan and opened my eyes to see Rufus on top of the sofa staring down at us.
I suddenly felt like a slut. Those condemning
electric green eyes, made me feel guilty as hell.
I shifted upwards. “I…I can’t do this.”
Lloyd tugged me back down and began kissing my
nipple. “Why not?” he whispered.
“Rufus is watching.”
This stopped him. He turned his head and Rufus
meowed at him. He looked at me stunned.
“He’s your cat,” I said by way of apology.
He sighed. “Don’t move.” He got up and grabbed
Rufus. “Hey, buddy,” he said stroking the cat’s cheek as he held him. Rufus
gave out a throaty purr. “How about I give you some gravy, okay?”
I sat up and adjusted my sweater. I heard Lloyd
open a can and dish its contents onto a plate.
He came back in looking sheepishly. “Rufus is
jealous. He’ll be okay now. But just in case…” He stooped down, lifted me off
the couch, and carried me off into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot.
He playfully tossed me on his bed.
“Here I come,” he said and flopped next to me.
“Now, down to business,” he said seriously,
pulling me on top of him.
Chapter
26
Saturday,
February 18th
I woke completely relaxed. One of the best nights’
sleep I could remember. I intertwined my fingers, turning my palms out and
stretched my arms up over my head, arching my back. On the way down, my left
elbow struck something solid. I panicked and jumped up, instinctively pulling
the blanket up to my chin.
Lloyd was lying next to me,
rubbing his right eye. He looked at me with his left eye.
“Are you always this brutal in
the morning?” he asked, turning towards me.
“Sorry.” I bit my lower lip. “Forgot where I
was.”
“You have dangerous, pointy
elbows.”
I bent down and kissed his
injured eyelid. “All better?”
“Not
quite.” He moved on top of me and smothered me with a kiss.
I pushed up on his shoulders and smiled at him.
“Better?”
“Almost,” he teased, reaching
down playfully, stroking me until I squirmed below him. I let out a scream of
pleasure and he mounted me.
He shuddered, climaxed, and
went limp. “Now,” he said breathlessly, “I’m better.” He kissed me and rolled
off. “Hungry?”
Wow. Wham bam thank you ma’am.
But I couldn’t complain; I was satisfied.
“I’m famished.”
He stood and pulled on his
boxers. “I’ll go make some coffee if you want to hop in the shower first.
Towels are in the cabinet. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
“Thanks.”
He strolled out of the
bedroom, looking tousled but handsome. I smiled to myself and swung my legs
over the side of the bed. Now where did my clothes go? I surveyed the immediate
area near the bed and discovered my clothes in a pile on the floor. Reaching
down, I grabbed my bikini underpants and bra. I slipped into them and left his
room.
The bathroom was down a short
hallway and on my left. I stepped in, and when I looked at my reflection in his
bathroom mirror, I cringed. Through my foggy contacts, I saw mascara and
eyeliner smudged in black circles around my puffy eyes making me look like a
raccoon. My hair stuck out strangely like some wild cavewoman. I only hoped my
breath didn’t smell as nasty as I looked.
An alarm clock on the counter read 8:15, not bad
considering how much I drank the night before. I turned on the shower, and
pulled a towel from inside the cabinet and placed it the toilet tank.
His shower curtain was clear, with navy blue
stripes. It was surprisingly clean for a guy.
When the room filled with steam, I climbed in the
shower. I scrubbed my face with some cucumber body gel he had on hand. It
smelled more like Jolly Ranger green apple candy. Had to be a gift from his
sister. No straight guy would buy this stuff.
His shampoo, a brand made
exclusively for men, smelled spicy and manly. I debated between it, and the
Jolly Ranger gel and the shampoo won. I knew Autumn would make some comment
later today about my manly smell if I didn’t have time for another shower
before we went shopping.
I lathered my body with the
cucumber gel, rinsed and dried off with a fresh, navy blue towel. I wiped down
the shower, not wanting to leave a mess.
I brushed my teeth with my
finger and some of his minty, tooth whitening, toothpaste. He had some spray
deodorant, but that too was for men. I figured I could skip it until I got
home. Hard to sweat when it’s only thirty degrees outside.
Wrapped in a towel, holding my
bra and underpants, I went back into the bedroom to dress. Thankfully, nobody
smoked last night, so my clothes didn’t reek. When I finished, I wrapped the
towel around my head.
I snuck out into the living
room to retrieve my handbag. I found it on the coffee table. Rufus had
commandeered it, and was using it for a pillow.
I stroked behind his ear. “I
need this Rufus,” I whispered. As though he understood, he jumped to the floor
without a sound.
Quickly, I grabbed it and ran
back to the bathroom. I rubbed my hair as dry as I could with the towel, and
then I took a comb from my handbag and combed out the knots. After some
digging, I found a ponytail holder in the bottom of my handbag. I pulled my
hair into a messy bun and tried to fluff my bangs. Not bad. As a finishing
touch I applied some lip-gloss. Considering he already saw me looking my worst
this morning, anything was a major improvement.
When I walked into the kitchen, he was busy
toasting waffles.
“I could get used to this,” I said walking in.
“Coffee smells good.”
He handed me a mug with some
prescription drug name on it. “You smell interesting. Like spicy apple candy.”
“Mixture of your shampoo and
cucumber gel.”
“Ah. Feel free to take that
cucumber stuff with you. Came in the mail. I’ll never use it.”
The waffles popped up. He took
them from the toaster and placed them on a plate.
“Help yourself. I have sugar
and cream by the coffee maker. Spoons are in this drawer,” he said opening a
drawer to his left.
I took a spoon and closed the
drawer. He took a swallow of black coffee from his mug and popped a couple more
waffles into the toaster. I poured a mug of coffee, adding a liberal amount of
cream and sugar.
“I can finish up here if you want to hop in the
shower,” I offered.
“Thanks, but I’ll eat breakfast first. Will you
get the syrup out from that cabinet by your knee?”
“This cabinet?” He nodded and I opened the door
and searched until I saw the brown container. I took it out and placed it on
the table.
“This is the same type I buy,” I said sitting
down.
He placed a plate of waffles in front of me and
another plate across from my seat.
“Margarine?” he asked.
“No thanks.”
He grabbed two forks and his mug and sat down. I
took the fork he offered me.
Simultaneously, we reached for the syrup.
“You first,” he said, withdrawing his hand.
“Thanks.” I poured a generous amount over my
waffles and handed him the bottle.
He did the same. “Eat up.”
“What about Rufus?”
“I fed him while you were in the shower.” He
chewed a hunk of waffle and washed it down with some coffee. “Find everything
you needed?”
“Un huh. I didn’t know where you wanted me to put
the towel, so I left it folded on the counter.”
“That’s fine. I’ll take it downstairs later when
I do the wash.”
I drank some coffee and returned the mug to the
table. “You know you’re the first guy who’s cooked for me. Other than my dad
that is.”
He looked up surprised. “This isn’t exactly a
gourmet meal.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Still, it’s
appreciated.”
“I appreciate your
appreciation. Now eat before everything gets cold.”
After my waffles were gone, I got up and
retrieved the coffee pot. I held it out to Lloyd. “More?”
He held out his mug and I refilled it. Then I
filled my own mug and replaced the glass pot on the burner. I added more sugar
and creamer to my mug.
“I can’t drink black coffee. Too bitter. The
coffee at work is so bitter I have to add at least three packets of Equal to
it.”