Positive/Negativity (6 page)

“Is your time here limited then? Does that mean you have to return to New York? Do you still live there? When do you have to go back?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Momentarily, I had a sinking feeling that this might be our first, and last, date.

“That’s a lot of questions, beautiful,” he said, smiling at me. “Let me see if I can cover all the answers for you. Yes, my time is limited. Yes, I have a shoot in New York next week, which lasts two days. Then a quick visit with my agent and I’ll be coming back here for two weeks. No, I don’t live there permanently. I have several apartments around the world, but I don’t consider them home as they are rentals. The only ‘home’ I have is here. That’s why I’m looking at some property, here, that might be ideal for a studio. I’m thinking of using it for photography as I’d like to discover new talent. I could then direct them to New York agencies. I’ve made good contacts in New York, and I’d like to send young talent to good people.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” I said. “I’d love to help you on your search for new property—if you’d like the company that is. I also know a few reputable inspectors when you find what you’re looking for.”

He looked into my eyes and stroked my hand ever so slightly.

“I’m enjoying
who
I've been looking for every morning,” he said as he looked into my eyes and continued to touch me. I found I liked the feel of his hand caressing mine. He made me feel adored when he looked at me like this. Declan had the darkest brown eyes. I loved looking at his face, especially into his eyes. Staring into them was like falling into a pool of liquid, brown suede. He didn’t talk much, allowing me to carry on the conversation more than he did. I think he preferred it that way, but he always looked attentively at me. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of me, and I liked that immensely. If it were someone else, I think I would have been frightened at the intensity, but not with him. There was something about him. He made me feel safe and scared at the same time. That was the force of energy he exuded each time he touched me. To better explain, I’d have to say that I think he made me feel comfortable to be myself with him. I had never before felt attracted to someone so quickly. He made me feel secure and sexy, and it terrified me to think of how much I wanted him after so short a time. He made me feel alive again!

The time spent with Aria flew by, and if I could, I’d make time stand still. I knew, with all certainty, by the end of the first cup of coffee, that I wasn’t letting this girl get away. I always got girls—easily. Aria was the first that I wanted to catch. I had heard other men speak of it, but it had never happened to me. I could honestly say she was the first woman that I felt I wanted as
mine
.

As we walked back, she wasn’t hesitant at all to hold on to my hand. I liked how small her hand felt in mine. I could feel myself and my thoughts going down a wicked path. I’d never offer an apology for my thoughts or my desires that day. I lost control, several times, with regard to how my blood flowed, where it flooded to, and which part of my body it caused to harden. It was a constant, losing battle while Aria swayed her body next to mine as we walked back.

When we arrived back at The Blackjack, she took me to the front porch. When she turned to look at me, her hair flew, unruly, past her cheek. Instinctively, I reached to tuck it behind her ear. I didn’t want to leave her so soon.

Aria’s eyes ignited when I touched her face, and instantaneously I knew the feeling was mutual.

“Can I come in?”

“Please,” was the only word she half whispered.
TTT

Having Declan’s hand so close to my cheek ignited a potent desire within an emotional abyss that had only recently been full of sorrow. His touch only confirmed what had been a suspicion building for days—weeks. I wanted this man to kiss me. I could feel Declan’s breath on my upper lip. He was so close that I could feel the air that was created by the flutter of his eyelashes. I could barely breathe, and the breath I did take only served to fuel the fire that was burning inside. His aroma energized my desire further. I wanted to bury my head against him. He tucked my hair behind my ear and allowed his hand to drift to the back of my head where he pulled me in, close. When he asked me if I wanted him to come inside the house, I could barely breathe the word “Please” to him.
But please to what?
My desires were meeting my imagination. My lips were almost touching his, and I felt them draw me toward him magnetically. To say a man’s lips are “delicious” makes them sound sinful, but Declan’s lips were as wicked as chocolate, and once I had a small taste, I wanted more. At that moment, my cravings were met by Declan crushing his lips on to mine, and I knew that the pining I felt for him was equally met. I hadn’t been kissed in a very long time, and certainly
never
like this. Emotions of excitement and fear commingled, firing in my brain with each demanding glide of his tongue. I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t breathe. The kiss lasted just moments, but in that time I lost all sense and reasoning.

He spread his firm fingers through the back of my head, then pulled my hair, tugging me back. “Do you think we should go inside, or would you like to continue this out here?” He smiled at me with a roguish smirk.

I could feel the heat and color creeping up my chest and neck as I blushed and quickly opened the door.

Once inside, I felt the need for air and a bit of composure, so I attempted to put a bit of distance between us by inviting Declan on a tour of the house. He grinned at my clever ploy, but he took my hand as I led him, room by room, telling him stories of our family vacations on the Fourth of July. He patiently listened to my recanting tale after tale, through tours of the living room with its wicker furniture, dining room with a family size table, and the kitchen where I animated remembering my dad cooking. He laughed at some of the stories, and he was interested with regard to the history of the building. As we went up the stairs, he was impressed with the sizes of the bedrooms, each with their double and single beds. The one thing that piqued his curiosity was the closet. My Uncle Bill couldn’t bear to paint it because, every year, the kids wrote on the interior walls. We never thought that my uncle was aware of the declarations of “I love Matt”, “Rich loves Shirl”, “Debbie and Gary forever!” or “P luvs H”. There were writings of “Britt and Amber—BFF”, “Di loves Keith” and “Harv was Here, Summer of 2000”. Declan thought the little closet was like a time capsule. I told him that my uncle confessed to me that he knew, all the way back then, that we were writing on the walls in there, but he just kept reading the walls at the end of every summer. He thought it was endearing, really, that so many of us kids had such great vacations there; and we did.

As we walked back down the stairs, Declan still held my hand. I knew that if I didn’t want to end up in bed with him that night, I needed to end the date. I had to attempt to be firm, although I didn’t know if I could resist another of his kisses. I didn’t want Declan to think that I was a woman who took sex too casually. He was worldlier than me, and women threw themselves at him, but I was a person who invested my emotions before I invested my body.

We had almost reached the bottom of the stairs, but I had a strategy to see him eye-to-eye and be firm. I stayed on the second step to equalize our height difference so I could look into his eyes as I spoke.

“Thank you for today,” I said, and I continued to hold his hand.

He could tell what I was doing because he narrowed his eyes at me.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me in to him. I could tell that he didn’t want it to end. He was onto my game, and he was trying to entice me. I could tell he was a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

“It was nice spending time with you,” I said as I looked at him with genuine appreciation and affection, but an attempted firm resolve.

“It was nice spending time with
you
,” he said in the lowest, growling, and sexiest voice I’d ever heard. “I want to spend
more time
with
you.
”

His intentions were crystal clear. He wanted to play, and I was losing my grip. I was now convinced that Declan Sinclair could sweet-talk the panties off of a nun!

Attempting to gain what little control I had on my escalating libido, I said, “I
really
want to spend more time with
you
too.”

My voice was betraying me. It was barely a whisper due to my failing determination. That and his sexuality had sucked all the air and resolve from me.

Staring into his eyes, I could see a glimmer of playfulness. It looked like he was going to concede, but let me think I won—this time.

“I think dinner at Fresco’s this Friday would be nice. I’ll call you with the details.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He made it seem as if he were letting me have my way, at least for this date. The next one was his. It was where we would go, when we would go. That was that. Without warning, his other arm went around my waist and up my back, bringing me close to him. My breasts were crushed against the massiveness of his chest muscles. It hurt in a good way to be held that closely and that hard by this man. How can two opposite feelings have such a glorious effect? Declan claimed and dominated me. He also frightened me. His kiss announced to me that I was going to be possessed by him. The timing was the only question. He possessed an aura of power and strength. I foolishly thought that I was gaining some leverage by standing on a step where we’d be placed face-to-face, but instead, he released me and looked
me
in the eye. In what could only be described as an impression of velvet steel, he gave me one last directive; “Wear something sexy.” He then released me and walked to the door. He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

“Have your phone charged, beautiful,” then he walked down the steps.

After watching him walk down the street, I was now left alone and wired from all the coffee to gather my sanity—and to spar with some new found confusion and frustrations.

…but while walking down the street, Declan’s proudly thought that what may have started out as coffee, ended as Espresso—
intense and stimulating
…