Finding Opa! (8 page)

Under heavy lashes, Hunter went in and out of consciousness after half a bottle of wine and a bowl of extra greasy buttered popcorn.

“Am I too heavy?” Stacey asked, placing her hand on the side of the sofa to push herself up.

Hunter’s eyes flashed open as she tried to move. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her back down on him. “No, you’re as light as a feather,” he said, opening his legs to push her down in between them. “Don’t go.” His voice was tranquil and content.

Smiling, she snuggled back down between his legs and hummed, happy as a lark. They both wore their college t-shirts and gray cotton jogging pants, which added to their lazy day comfort. His bare feet rubbed against Rapture, who had settled down at the end of the couch near them.

Resting her head back down on his chest, she moved in to kiss his full mouth again. “I’ve never liked kissing this much in my life,” she admitted, tasting his bottom lip.

“Me either,” he said, rubbing her sandy brown dreads.

“Umm…But I need to get up and wash my hair.”

“Let me do it for you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Do you want to?” she asked, a little excited about having someone pamper her for a change.

“Of course. Your hair is so different from mine. It feels like…I don’t know…bushels of cotton. But the smell is intoxicating like you put an entire bouquet of roses in it.”

“I wash it with jasmine shampoo,” she whispered. “It’s to draw you in more.”

“It’s working.” Hunter looked at her and ran his hand over the plains of her face. “Stacey, I can truly say that I haven’t been this happy in a long time.” His deep baritone shook in nervousness. “Thank you for doing this…for agreeing to be my friend.”

Stacey blushed at his sincerity, although she felt like they were more than friends. A wrinkle formed across her forehead as her voice lowered. “We are more than that aren’t we?”

Hunter smiled. “Yeah but I don’t really know how to classify what we are. Do you? I mean, I don’t kiss my friends like this. I don’t want to spend every waken moment that I’m not working with
my friends
.”

“Speaking of friends, I don’t know any of yours, and I don’t have any. We are a strange couple.”

Hunter ran his hand over her backside. “Well, I told you about Piper and John. They are my closest friends. Maybe we could go to dinner with them soon. I’d like for you to meet them.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, considering our arrangement?”

Hunter sat up. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

Stacey rose up with him. Sitting on her knees in between his legs, she grabbed Rapture and held him in her arms as a defense mechanism. What was he about to say? Was this not working for him anymore? Had he met someone else? It had been a glorious month, but still a month with no sex. Maybe he was growing tired of their arrangement.

Hunter grabbed the remote to turn off the television as Emilio Estevez was right in the middle of the famous dance scene. He turned to Stacey, took Rapture and put him on the floor and grabbed her hand. Her long, brown fingers, perfectly shaped with long, curved fingernails, rested in his own.

“This started out as an experiment, a way to get over Drew and Corina, but for me, it has grown into something more. I don’t want just two and a half months with you.” He looked down at her hands, trembling in his own. “Please tell me that it has changed for you, too. If it hasn’t then I understand, because we are all entitled to our own feelings but…”

“Hunter...” Stacey could feel her entire body shaking apart. “I have felt like that since we kissed the first night.” She decided to tell the truth. Shame the devil.

“Really?” Hunter gave a bright triumphant smile.

“Yes, I just didn’t want to be the first one to jump, for lack of a better word.” The answering looking her vulnerable brown eyes was melting. “I’m a hopeless romantic. Otherwise, I’d be a lousy author, not to say that I’m the best now.”

“You’re amazing. I read your last book. I can see why you’re a bestselling author.”

“You are just a tiny bit biased,” she said, putting her index finger and thumb together.

“Okay, maybe I am, but you’re brilliant, and you know it. The whole world knows it.”

She smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Be my girl?” he asked, pulling her to him. He had waited long enough to ask. A month was torture to be around her and not have her for sure.

She crawled up in his embrace. “Only if you promise to still take it slow.”

Hunter couldn’t promise that. For 30 days, he had tried every trick in the book to keep his physical feelings at bay. But for her sake, he lied. “As slow as you want,” he said, lifting her chin up to see her face. “There is still no pressure, there never will be.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “We can try this thing out on a more permanent basis.”

The relief of her decision was now evident in his bright eyes. A deep sigh escaped him and within seconds his hands went everywhere defying his own promise to take it slow.

Ravaging her mouth, he sank back down into her leather sofa, taking her with him as he did. He felt like a high school kid again, fighting to keep his control. Her smell, the softness of her lips, the heavy weight of her dreads in his hands, the warm feeling of her body against his, made the heat in his body rise to a volcanic temperature.

Stacey was almost alarmed by his passion.
Was this his idea of taking things slow?
Unable to fight his kiss, she fell on top of him, holding on to his muscular shoulders as she suddenly felt his erection prodding just above her navel. Her natural instinct prohibited her from pulling away. She was amazed at the hard, thickness below. An ache began to fill her lower belly right before the sensation landed squarely between her steaming thighs.

“We had better get to washing my hair,” she said, finally as she realized that for the first time in a long time, she was wet…unforgivably soaking wet.

Flush red, he looked up at her and calmed himself. His hot hands ran over his stubbly beard. “Sorry,” he whispered with a naughty grin. He looked into her eyes and almost suggested what they both were clearly thinking but was afraid of the possibility of her turning him down and worse shutting down.

Rapture sat on the floor looking at both of them with his silver eyes flickering in the dim room. The tilt of his little head suggested that he too was confused or maybe intrigued by their odd pairing.

Hunter looked over at the cat and raised his brow. “I bet you weren’t ready for that one,” he said to Rapture as Stacey got up and went to the bathroom.

“Do you wash your hair naked?” he yelled as he heard the water running. He could hear her laughing. “Just a thought,” he said under his breath as he sat up.

Slowly walking through the apartment with the cat trailing at his feet, he entered into her bedroom and looked around. It was warm and welcoming like the rest of her home.

The walls were painted in a deep purple with one wall of exposed brick. Two large windows with heavy plum, expensive curtains faced the bay. One very large elegant bed sat in the middle of the room, perfectly made, with a plum colored comforter and large pillows. Hunter stared at it for a minute intrigued. It was the only thing in her house that didn’t fit. It was a great deal more ornate and luxurious than anything else she owned.

On each side of the bed were wooden nightstands and clear acrylic lamps with beige shades. By each lamp was a stack of books and bouquet of roses. The walls were adorned more black framed art and in the corner was an antique wooden rocking chair with a beige pillow and beige throw cover.

A thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shut it out. There was no need to dwell on things that he could not have.

What he did notice was that in the perfect little room she did not have a television. He knew instantly that because of her inability to sleep, her shrink,
like his
, had suggested no TV. However, unlike him, she’d actually listened. He, on the other hand, had purchased a 60-inch plasma and had it installed on the wall right across from his bed.

On the wall across from her bed was an antique large dresser, embroidered with intricate designs. On top of it was a picture of who must have been her father and her as a child sitting on a stoop outside of a brownstone. The other picture, framed in silver, was a picture of Drew.

He was a handsome, clean shaven black man with eyes the color of hazelnut and prominent ethnic features. His smile suggested that he was happy,
but who wouldn’t be with Stacey
. She had told Hunter once that Drew was an astrophysicist. Her story humbled him. All this time, he had thought he ran in
intelligent
circles, while this guy was studying Mars.

Hearing the water running in the bathroom, he turned and looked at the room again in one final assessment. Stacey was neat, simple and classy. He liked that about her. She was worth millions but her conservative spending and her less than gaudy personality only required comfort. Any man who lived in this society could appreciate a woman who had pulled herself up by her own bootstraps and still was grounded,
rooted was a better word for Stacey
.

Hunter had considered dating a few times before, but everyone that his family and friends had tried to hook him up with was so centered on appearance and prestige until it made him sick. While he was a doctor with a thriving practice, he just wanted to be a guy with a comfortable life. This was why he had settled on a nice condo in a nice part of town but not anything that would break the bank.

Overall, it was hard to find a woman, regardless of color, who wanted the same types of things in life that he wanted, because what he wanted most was simplicity. Strangely enough, he had found it in Stacey. She was clever, always saying things that stuck with him long after their conversation had ended. She was inquisitive about even the smallest parts of his life, and she was sure of herself.

In the four weeks that he’d known her, the one thing that he had learned to appreciate most about her was that she was sincere. She had no ambitions to conquer the world or to be the most known or most sought after, even though by some measure she had conquered her world and was highly regarded. How many women could say that? For that matter, how many men knew a woman who was doing that? He felt honored.

“I’m waiting, Hunter,” she said, turning the water off in her tub. “Are you going to do this or should I?” Her voice was playful.

“No, I’m coming. You know, I’ve never really seen your bedroom before. It’s nice.”

“Thanks,” she said, sounding a bit preoccupied. “No, Rapture. Go,” she ordered. Her voice echoed in the bathroom.

Scratching the back of his tousled hair, Hunter rounded the corner and paused. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Stacey was sitting in her white garden tub full of crimson rose petals naked with her dreads down covering the brown tips of her perky breasts.

“I hope that there is nothing wrong with a little spontaneity,” she said, waving her hands in the water. Her eyes begged for his approval. Trying to still her quivering voice, she reached out for him. “We can take things
slowish
later.”

Walking up to the tub, Hunter looked down at her body and licked his lips. His eyes were wild with lusty thoughts. Greedily taking in her body, he studied her in amazement. Her skin was perfect. Warm brown flesh unblemished and toned sat atop of lean muscle and continuous curves. Her bright brown eyes spoke of passion and desire that he had never truly seen before in her.

“Did I move to fast?” she asked suddenly, preparing to draw back into her shell.

Hunter realized in that moment that he had not uttered a word. He stammered. “No…you just look…I never imagined that you were so beautiful.”

She blushed, showing a deceiving innocence. “Thank you.” Picking up the shampoo, she passed it to him.

“You’re killing me,” he said jokingly. “You still want me to wash your hair?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Play along. You’ll be rewarded.”

Her banter made him hard. Quickly, he opened the top and dropped a blob of shampoo in his hands then sat on the edge of the tub. The cold porcelain did nothing to cool his growing heat. Rubbing the shampoo into her hair, he watched her angelic eyes close.
Ah, now she’s enjoying it
, he thought to himself. He massaged her temples then took the ceramic cup and stuck into the water to rinse her off.