Love Won't Let Me Wait Page 3

  “Yeah, whatever! You want another drink?” He asked gesturing for a waitress.

  “Nah, I have to get going.”

  “Where you going we just got here?” Josh returned his face showing disappointment that our little foray was about to end. I stood up and glanced at my watch.

  “I have a date with a sexy red-bone with a tight body. Right now she is at home waiting to put it on me. If you can compete with that I’ll stay.” Josh sat up straight in his chair and started chuckling.

  “Whatever man, just call me tomorrow, we might be able to hook up.”

  “Alright, mack daddy, I’ll holla at you tomorrow.” I turned and started walking towards the door. Josh yelled at me as I walked away.

  “You and Shannon have fun tonight.”

  “We always do,” I yelled back.

  As I neared the club’s exit I noticed that Mahogany was staring at me. I motioned her over. Goddamn she is fine! She approached me smiling.

  “Mahogany, would you do me a huge favor?”

  “Sure,” she answered still smiling.

  “Would you keep my friend company for a little while?” I placed two crisps Ben Franklin’s on her drink tray.

  A confused expression came over her face. I couldn’t discern if she was disappointed that I didn’t hit on her or offended by my request. She did agree to pay special attention to Josh and smiled at me before walking away.

  I watched her walk over to the table and sit down next to Josh. As I stood in front of the club waiting for the valet to bring my truck around, my thoughts returned to Mahogany. I hoped that she had not misconstrued my offer as a sexual proposition intended for Josh’s benefit. I would never have asked her to keep him company absent my knowledge and confidence in Josh and his character. If there is one thing I was sure of, it was that Josh was not going to sleep with anyone other than his wife, Stacey.

  On the drive back to my house I listened to the new Take 6 album and thought about Josh. I wondered if there was someone out there that could totally satisfy me like Stacey did for him. That Josh is a lucky son-of-a-bitch.

  Just then my cell phone rang. I answered and was greeted by the sweetest most soothing voice I had heard in several hours. Maybe I did have my own Stacey. No, I had someone better. I had Shannon. Tonight was definitely going to be special.

  I climbed out of the shower, dabbed on some of my favorite Tommy Hilfiger cologne, and walked over to the closet. I walked in and began sifting through the assortment of outfits and suits hanging on either side of me, trying to decide what to wear. My fashion strategy entailed purchasing clothes as a complete ensemble. If I copped a shirt, I would make sure I picked up a pair of pants to match. It simplified the process of putting together the right combination later on. I finally decided on a dark-green, silk shirt and beige slacks. Comfortable and casual I reasoned; and I enjoyed the smooth feel of silk fabric against my skin.

  I decided to wear my black, Florsheim loafers and was searching through my shoeboxes to find them when I unearthed some old pictures of Toya and me from when we were younger. Funny, I hadn’t thought about Toya since lunch.

  I put the pictures back in the box exited the closet and made my way over to the bed to get dressed. I’d promised Toya I would call and decided I would fulfill that obligation from the truck on the way to Shannon’s.

  On my way to Shannon’s house I called Toya as I promised. In jest, I accused her of attempting to curry favor from Shannon during lunch. But just as Shannon did, Toya insisted she thought Shannon was a nice person and genuinely enjoyed talking to her. Our conversation spanned all of five minutes before we said our goodbyes just outside the entrance to Bayside Condominiums where Shannon lived.

  I exited my truck and ascended the stairs leading to Shannon’s apartment on the second floor. I tried to sneak a peek through the blinds covering the living room window, but the interior of the apartment was unusually dark and not visible from the outside. I knocked on the door electing not to use the doorbell.

  As I waited for Shannon to open the door I turned and looked out over the landscape surrounding her apartment. The grass was supremely manicured and the trees surrounding the lake in front of her building were neatly spaced and evenly aligned, allowing the perfect amount of artificial light to radiate through. It was enchanting and mesmerized me for a moment. It was a very romantic setting.

  I was still taking in the scenery when I was welcomed by soft, warm hands moving slowly from my waist up my torso, straddling my chest from behind. I had been so captivated by the setting outside of her building that I didn’t hear her open the door.

  I took Shannon’s hands in mine and turned to face her. My level of excitement increased as I took in the entire specter. Shannon looked exquisite and provocative in a white, long-sleeved blouse that nestled her upper body. Her breast and nipples were slightly visible through the thin fabric. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back.

  I searched her body with my eyes, working my way down to the dark-blue tennis skirt that rolled over her hips and ass, coming to an abrupt end just above the midpoint of her thighs. Her dark brown skin continued to flow out from under the skirt like caramel on an ice cream sundae, down to her bare and beautifully manicured toes. I could feel the rage of my manhood thrusting against my clothing with the force of a caged animal lusting for uninhibited freedom.

  From the look of satisfaction on Shannon’s face I imagined that she had achieved the desired effect. Without saying a word she led me by the hand from the doorway into the interior of her apartment. The sound of Kenny G wailing away on his saxophone crept through the open door to her bedroom.

  There were several scented candles burning on the mantle above the unlit fireplace. The dining table was set for two, with one long slender dinner candle sitting directly in the middle of the table. A bottle of wine sat to the right of the candle. The scented candles and Shannon’s perfume combined to form a powerful, mystic aphrodisiac.

  Shannon turned to walk into the kitchen. I reached out, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her back towards me. I gently began to kiss her neck, working my way around to her chin. I ran my tongue across her lips before kissing her on the exposed area of her chest below her collar. As I ran my hands over her breast I could feel tension in her nipples. Her body shivered to the touch. I unbuttoned her blouse kissing each area of newly exposed skin.

  I kissed and licked Shannon encompassing the full area of her breast and nibbled gingerly on her nipples. Muffled moans of ecstasy escaped her semi-opened mouth. I backed Shannon up against the wall and began to kiss her above her belly button, before darting my tongue inside it. On my knees, I traced Shannon’s skin from her belly button down towards the lining of her skirt. I grabbed the back of her thighs and ran my hands deliberate and slow, up her skirt massaging her ass. Her bare skin informed me that Shannon was not wearing any underwear.

  I began to kiss Shannon on the thigh just above her knees. I turned her around so that she was facing the wall. She planted both hands on the wall in front of her. I started to lick her starting behind her knees before slowly tracing my tongue up the back of her thighs. Shannon’s body trembled in anticipation. Her legs parted, slow but undawdling, as I kissed and licked her inner-thigh working my way towards her center.

  Her hips began to grind in an enticing motion, inviting me to partake of her. As I continued to kiss and lick her inner-thighs her moans increased in volume and her hip movement became more demanding.

  Shannon was now thrusting her body on me with force. Her head lay back, her hair streaming towards the floor. And then…I tasted her. She released a satisfied whimper. She was engulfed in my stimulation, matching each piercing flicker of my tongue with an equally firm thrust of her pelvis. The wetness and sweet taste of Shannon conspired, threatening me with premature release.

  I stood behind Shannon still leaning against the wall. My now exposed manhood throbbing with anticipation. I began to rub myself against her. The warmth of he
r juices caused me to weaken at the knees.

  Shannon’s body trembled in wanton need as I entered her slow, but with firm thrust, increasing velocity and depth with each incursion. Shannon met each thrust with equal determination. Her heavy breaths of passion warmed my skin.

  Our bodies continued to collide in a rhythmic battle of pleasure. Our moans turned to screams of utter ecstasy. My hands now engulfed Shannon’s breast still hard with desire. Then with a tidal wave of emotion and energy, we released in unison collapsing haplessly to the carpet, locked in passionate embrace.

  I ran my fingers through Shannon’s hair still moist with perspiration. I placed a soft kiss on her forehead. A few minutes later Shannon lifted her head from its perch on my chest.

  “Kalem.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We didn’t get to eat dinner.”

  “I’m sorry, Shannon, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I like that animal instinct in you.” Shannon rolled over on top of me and began to massage my shoulders.

  “I cooked you a T-bone steak, yellow rice, and broccoli,” she announced with a hint of pride in her voice.

  “Oh, you went all out?”

  “I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. You know how much I enjoy cooking for you.” Shannon did cook for me often and was rather skilled in the culinary arts. “I wanted tonight to be special.”

  “Shannon, every minute I spend with you is special. I love you.” That was the first time I had professed my love for her and truly meant it. Shannon smiled, blushing.

  “Are you ready to eat?”

  “Hell, yeah!”

  After dinner Shannon and I went for a walk around the lake in front of her apartment. We held hands and talked. Eventually I found a spot near the back of the lake and sat down on the grass. She lay draped across the grass, her head placed snug across my thighs. I massaged her temple and scalp, and ran my fingers through her hair. We sat in conversation for close to an hour before returning to her apartment.

  As I sat on Shannon’s bed with my back pressed against the headboard I thought of how the sound of the running shower reminded me of rain falling on the galvanized rooftop of our house in the Virgin Islands. The sound was akin to a hundred percussionists performing a soft drum roll. I turned and looked through the open bathroom door. My interest contented by a silhouette of Shannon’s body through the sliding glass shower doors.

  Shannon stepped out of the shower her body sodden and defined. She looked at me seductively before grabbing her towel off of the rack in front of her. I eyed her with lust as she wrapped the towel around her body, teasing me with intentionally provocative movements.

  “You know most people dry off before getting out of the shower.”

  “I thought you liked it wet, baby.”

  “You are such a freak.”

  “And you like it don’t you?”

  “Of course, come over here and let me dry you off.”

  Shannon walked towards the bed. She stopped in the bathroom doorway where she opened the towel and exposed herself.

  “See anything you want?”

  I sat hushed on the bed as Shannon teased her singular audience. She walked around the foot of the bed and stood in front of me moving her hips from side to side like an exotic dancer.

  I reached up and removed the towel from around her body. Leaning forward, I licked a couple of beads of water off of Shannon’s stomach. I then began to dry her body with the towel. I slid the thick cloth over her skin employing a slow, soft stroke.

  After drying Shannon’s body I sat back against the headboard. I told her to lie on the bed. She stretched across the bed on her stomach, her feet dangling over the edge.

  I stood up and walked over to the oak dresser pressed against the wall just to the right of the bathroom doorway. Scanning the dresser top, I overlooked an array of scented powders, perfumes, and lotions. I picked up a bottle of peach lotion and walked back over to the bed.

  “Why does everything a woman uses have to be scented?”

  Shannon burst out laughing. “Because guys like women that smell good. Don’t you like when I smell fruity?”

  “Yeah, I do, the problem is when I take a shower over here and I need some lotion, if everything you have is scented, I either have to walk around smelling fruity, or just say fuck it and walk around ashy as hell. And you know neither one of those choices are cool for a dude.” Shannon laughed loudly at my statements. “You need to keep some cocoa butter lotion or plain old Vaseline intensive care on the side for a brother to use.”

  I sat on the bed next to her, poured some of the lotion into my hands and began to massage it onto her body starting with her hands. Shannon lay staring out of the window next to her bed deep in thought.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Your past.”

  “What about it?”

  “I was wondering about your past relationships.” I didn’t talk much about my past but from the tone of her voice and the expression on her face I could tell that the subject had been on her mind.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Shannon closed her eyes and turned her head away from the window to face the bathroom. She paused for a second before asking me, “Baby, are you sure you love me?” She lifted her head up off the bed and looked back at me. There was a serious tone to her question.

  I was caught off guard, and if she had asked me the same question even a couple of days prior I wouldn’t have been able to answer yes with any real conviction, but at this point I was one hundred percent sure.

  “Yes, Shannon, I love you. What made you ask me a question like that?” Shannon laid her head back on the bed and closed her eyes.

  “You told me that you thought you were in love once before, but after the relationship ended you realized that you were not really in love with her. So I wonder what makes you so sure that you are really in love with me.”

  “Shannon, that girl I thought I was in love with, at that time I cared about her like I had never cared about a woman before. I thought those feelings were love. Once I got out of the relationship and analyzed it I realized that being in love is more than just caring deeply for someone. It’s more than the euphoria of great sex, or the feeling of pride you get from having a girl that your family gets along with or that your boys think is fine. Love takes a lot bigger emotional commitment than that. Once we got over the honeymoon period and things started getting bad, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I didn’t love her, and I wanted out. To be honest, Shannon, I wasn’t sure that I loved you until today in the park. Today was when I really felt it, knew it one hundred percent.”

  Shannon opened her eyes and smiled at me. She rolled over onto her side and placed her head on my chest. We continued to talk for several hours just as we had done countless nights prior, before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 3

  It had been almost three weeks since Shannon, Toya, and I had met for lunch. My relationship with Shannon was continuing to blossom. I hadn’t seen much of Toya though. I’ve been busy working on some last minute changes to the Intellica deal.

  Shannon is headed home to Baltimore to visit her sister and won’t be returning until Tuesday evening. The last few weeks all of my free time has been spent with Shannon. It felt strange not having her around to make plans with.

  Shannon’s absence forced me to conjure up an entertaining diversion. Luckily for me Toya was available and willing to hang out with me as usual. Toya and I are supposed to meet for dinner this evening at Manndal’s, and then check out the new James Bond flick. We are both big 007 junkies.

  On my way out of the office I spotted Raoul Richards standing across the street. I hadn’t seen Raoul in a couple of weeks. Shannon had put many of my usual activities on hold as of late. Needless to say Raoul and I had missed a couple of weekly meetings at the Foxx.

  He was standing at the newsstand in front of his
office building conversing in Spanish with the proprietor, Cuban Carl. Carl is a fiercely proud Cuban immigrant who came to Charlotte by way of Florida.

  Carl and his wife left Cuba during the Mariel boatlift of 1979. Carl’s wife had fallen ill during the trip over. She suffered severe dehydration from lack of drinking water and the scorn of the Caribbean sun, and died shortly after arriving in Miami. I recall being moved to tears the first time he relayed to me the story of their final journey together.

  Carl eventually moved to Charlotte where he had a cousin who had left Cuba years earlier. Five days a week he could be found working the newsstand which he built with his own hands and referred to with affection as “Victoria” in memory of his wife.

  Raoul’s dark skin-tone, made him appear to glow under the scrutiny of the afternoon sun. I envied Raoul’s skin color. I’ve overheard more than a few women describe the dark hue of his skin as exotic and tribal. The product of a Puerto Rican mother and Black father from Kentucky, Raoul’s command of his mother’s native Spanish dialect always surprised those he engaged. From his appearance you would never guess that this chocolate brother was Puerto Rican.

  Sometimes we would be dining at a Spanish restaurant and he would eavesdrop on the unsuspecting Spanish speaking patron’s conversations. More than once we found that we were the topic of conversation. Compliments from some young girls, or a group of older women, and sometimes derogatory comments and disdain for our presence. Raoul once likened it to being able to read someone’s mind. To be privy to their secrets. It’s fascinating, the things people say about you when they presume you can’t hear or understand them.

  I loved the looks of utter shock and sometimes embarrassment when Raoul would stop and comment to them in Spanish about something that was said concerning us as we exited.

  My grasp of the Spanish language is considerable although I am not fluent. From the few words I could make out, I found that they were discussing the big boxing match of the past weekend between Cruz and Menendez. Another epic in a long list of battles between Puerto Rican and Mexican fighters.