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Authors: L. Duarte

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BOOK: A Taste of Utopia
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He looks at us with a bemused expression. “Yep, that’s Dona.”

“What happened to her face?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I found her like that. She had a nasty infection in a wound that covered half her face. The vet recommended euthanasia. I couldn’t let him do it. It took a while to nurse her back to health.”

“Wow, I guess she’s lucky you found her.”

“I like to think I’m the lucky one. She found me.”

There is so much hidden meaning behind the sentence. Most importantly, it reveals a great deal about his character. My head does a little swoosh before I respond. “I guess that makes both of you lucky.”

“That’s a way to put it.” He approaches me and grasps my hand. “You hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Hope you like fish,” he says with a smile.

“Um, fish, yes! It’s fine. I mean I do like fish. I love fish.” My head bobs frantically to emphasize my answer. What a lie. I hate fish.

 

 

 

HE TUGS ME
back to the hall. His roommate’s door swings open at the same time. And Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Adonis number two materializes in front of me. The man is almost as handsome as Seth is.

“Perfect timing,” Seth says. “Lottie this is my best friend, Zach.”

“And so, we meet, Mrs. Phoenix,” Zach says with a huge smile revealing his pearly whites.

To my mortification, I blush. Way to make an impression on my husband’s best friend. “Nice to meet you,” I say, offering my hand.

“Oh, trust me, the pleasure is all mine.” He holds my hand and pulls me into a warm embrace. “I’m still in shock that someone managed to whisk this man away. Some spell you must weave with you.”

“Zach,” Seth interrupts promptly. “Let’s not scare her away. We’re newlyweds. She can still file for an annulment.”

“Chill, Romeo, I wasn’t going to send her running to the hills.” He turns to me. “I was just saying she must be a powerful sorceress, yes.”

I smile fondly and genuinely at Zach. I immediately know I like him. Better yet, the sentiment appears mutual. And for the life of me, the realization floods me with satisfaction and relief. It’s like I had just passed two inspections. Dona Bella’s and Zach’s.

“Well, I’m on my way out. I’ll leave you two love birds alone.” He points a finger at Seth. “You better dazzle her, yes?”

“Will do my best,” Seth responds with a smile, displaying the brotherly love and bond between the two. Wow, they must have been friends for a while.

“I’ll spend the night at Mason’s, so don’t wait up for me.” He winks maliciously. “I’ll text before coming back.”

He turns to me and pulls me into an intimate hug. “Have a good time, gorgeous.” In my ear he whispers, “Seth went all out to impress you with dinner.”

I reciprocate Zach smile. It’s been five minutes, but I feel like we’ve known each other for decades. Zach possesses the same allure and magnetic power as Seth does. It seems charm is a common denominator in this house.

“Great to meet you, Zach.”

Zach leaves whistling a tune that though familiar, I can’t name it.

Seth guides me to a barstool by the kitchen island. “Let me get you something to drink. Is wine good?”

“Yes,” I say. My hands are damp, so I press them on my jeans. Jeez, I’m way out of my league here. Not only is Seth gorgeous, but apparently he’s surrounded by drop-dead gorgeous friends too. The word overwhelmed doesn’t even cover it. What did Seth see in me?

Maybe I should just ask: “Oh, by the way, what is a guy like you doing with a girl like me?”

I have a healthy self-esteem. I’m not one of those girls who thinks less of herself just because she doesn’t wear size zero. No, I love myself, thank you very much. However, I’m practical and intelligent. Seth and I together don’t add up. Guys like him do not get attracted to girls like me. It defies logic that a man like Seth would hit on me in a night club. And I’m not even talking about the marriage. No! That’s an entirely new level of craziness that my practical intellect fails to encompass.

Seth hands me a glass of white wine.

His dexterous fingers fiddle with the buttons on a panel on the kitchen wall. The raspy and unmistakeable voice of Louis Armstrong rumbles through hidden speakers.

He raises a brow, and I know he is inquiring about the choice of music.

I smile. “Jazz is fine. Can I help you with something?” I ask.

“No, tonight you’re my guest. I got it covered.”

Seth busies himself with the final touches of dinner. He sips his wine and moves through the kitchen. His movements are fluid and confident. Like he knows his place on this earth. Like he knows he is greatly blessed in the looks department. Like he knows my eyes are feasting on the view.

“Tell me a bit about you,” he asks as he pulls a tray of fish from the oven and strolls to the table. I pick up the salad dish and follow him.

“Not much to tell. I’m an everyday girl, who lives an ordinary life.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re far from ordinary,” he says, lighting the candles. Then he turns to me and adds, “You are the most fascinating woman I have ever met.” His voice is slow. Each word enunciated fiercely.

I repeatedly blink and I’m at a loss for words.

In silence, we bring the rest of the food and the wine to the table. Seth pulls out a chair. I sit and murmur a “thank you.” I kind of like this pampering. The few dates I had were with college guys who had two ideas of fun: a keg of beer and to get laid at the end of the night. Hence my scarce dating curriculum.

“Where do you go to school?” Seth serves me the salad.

“Yale,” I say and take a bite of my salad.

“Impressive. Ivy League. What’s your major?”

“I just graduated this past May, from the Juris Doctors Degree Program. It has all the courses necessary to enter the Graduate Law School.” A sweet taste, with a bite of tart, spread on my tongue. “This is heavenly.”

“Thank you. Homemade dressing. A bit too young to graduate, huh?” he asks, cocking his head.

The candles cast a soft golden light on him. Under the hue, the already gorgeous planes of his face are multiplied tenfold.

“I skipped a grade in middle school. Did tons of summer credits at local Universities while in high school.” Needless to say, my social life has been pretty much nonexistent. I take a sip from the wine. A woodsy taste emanates over my tongue.

“Family?”

“My parents live in Maine. My brother and his family live in Palo Alto, California. He’s a photographer. His wife is a vet. They have a four-year-old son and a baby girl on the way.”

“Are you close with your parents?”

“Yes and no. I adore my parents, but I want to be on my own, you know? My dad can be a bit overbearing.” Understatement of the year.

“Why law?”

I pause. I want to tell him that my dad dictated I would go to Law School. Which he did. But it’s also what I always wanted. “I really like law. I guess it’s ingrained in my genes or something. I knew I wanted to be an attorney before I could spell the word.” Every generation of my family, dating back to the Pilgrims has had at least one member in the judicial system.

“Wow, it must be cool to know what you want to be at such a young age.”

“Yeah, I’m one of the fortunate ones. Not only did I know what I wanted, but also, I had the financial means and the full support of my family.”

“Not to mention acceptance to Yale. Just whoa.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” I cast my eyes on my food.

“What? You don’t like Yale?”

“I do. It’s a great school.”

“Then what is it?”

I hesitate for a moment. “I would’ve rather gone to Stanford. But it wasn’t an option.”

“Why?” Seth places his fork down. His eyes zoom on me like laser beams.

“My father graduated from Yale. Like many in my family did before him.” Way to sound like a pushover. “How about yourself?” I say changing the subject.

“Not much to tell. My parents are deceased. Only child. A few years back, I lost contact with the only close relative I have. So it’s just Dona, Zach, and me.”

“You and Zach seem close.”

“We’re more like brothers than friends. I would do anything for that dude. Don’t tell him I said that.” He smiles. “He thinks too highly of himself as it is. We’re partners in a pretty successful business.” He pauses, his fingers sliding along the stem of the wine glass. It appears he’s selecting what information to share. “Let me see what else. I’m twenty-eight. I’m too vain for my own good. My drug of choice is coffee. I’m a health freak. I have a bachelor’s degree in business and a master’s in marketing, which comes in handy for our company.”

“What kind of business?” I ask, gathering all my courage to eat a bite of fish. I brace myself to avoid grimacing. When the flavor of the fish hits my taste buds, I’m pleasantly surprised. “Mmm, this is good.”

“You sound surprised.” He grins.

“I, um, I’m not usually a fish lover.” I point my fork to the plate. “But this definitely makes me want to revisit the notion.”

Seth throws his head back in throaty laughter.

“What?” I ask after bringing another generous bite to my mouth.

“You, my lovely wife, are an awful liar. I saw in your face earlier that you didn’t care for fish. I was trying to find a way to get you off the hook. But then again, I’m flattered that you’d try it for my sake.”

“Yeah, Chloe always schools me that I have to improve my lying skills. I’ll be a lawyer for Christ’s sake. Lying is a job requirement.”

“Nothing wrong with an honest lawyer. We need more honesty in this world.” He winks and all the muscles down south clench.

“Let me rephrase that then. I should work on my poker face.” I continue to scarf down the food.

“Yeah. That’s true. I can read you like a billboard.”

“That bad?” I scrunch up my nose.

“Yep,” he responds, bobbing his head.

“Maybe, this naïve and gullible me is just my poker face when, in truth, I’m an evil person cleverly deceiving you.” I narrow my eyes in what I hope is an intense stare, but fail miserably to suppress a smile.

“Nah, sorry.” He shakes his head. “Nope, not a chance. Still can see right through you.”

“Darn it.”

“Let me get desert,” he says, standing up.

A moment later, he’s back with a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. Oh my, they look decadent, but more than that, they look sexy. What’s with me? Since when are strawberries hot?

“I take from your expression that you like these.” He places the plate in the center of the table and waltzes my way. His eyes are intent and predatory. He offers his hand. I accept it. He tugs me to my feet.

“I’ve wanted to feed you these strawberries since I saw them at the market earlier.” His other hand slides around my back. “But right now I have other intentions. Let’s save the strawberries for when we’re in bed.” He stares down at me with an unflinching gaze, desire gleaming in his eyes.

“Dance with me?” he asks in a low and raspy voice.

When I stand, my legs tremble. The only reason I avoid an embarrassing fall is that his strong arm firmly grabs my waist.

Louis Armstrong sings about
La Vie En Rose.
The wine flows through me, turning my body into molten lava.

Seth’s sandalwood scent, his warmth, his firm length pressed against my body, overwhelm me. My world spins. My head swims in desire and unadulterated lust. He hasn’t even kissed me yet, and I’m soaking wet.

I want to resist the encompassing of his riveting presence. This dinner was for us to get to know each other—but not in the Biblical sense. In this short time together, we’re already well acquainted with that area.

This is the time to get to know each other’s quirks, and likes and dislikes. Not to have mind-blowing sex.

However, Seth’s intentions are clearly pressing against my lower belly.

My rational self wants to ask him to stop it. To keep it at the conversation level, but screw it. A tingling sensation climbs my spine, spreading out to my limbs, and the tip of my fingers and toes. My skin burns with a desperate need. I want him inside me. Badly.

He twirls me around the vast room, our feet gliding on the black wood floor.

 

 

 

MY BODY AND
mind float in a cloud of unveiling passion, of dark and mysterious want. They dive into an endless sea of carnal and raw sensuality.

BOOK: A Taste of Utopia
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