Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility) (31 page)

The softest grin crested upon his gorgeous face. “I never said you had to beg, Ms. Brimm. I said I wouldn’t fuck you until you made it clear that you wanted me to.”

There was nothing more to say. I grabbed his face, inviting him in for more. I wanted him. I had no inhibitions and I wanted him to know this. I sucked in his bottom lip. He slid closer to me. My hands went down to his neck and then shoulders. He was so muscular. So hard. He scooted closer again. I could immediately tell he wanted me just as I wanted him. I made sure to invite him in as much as I could. No sooner than that, my personal cell phone started to vibrate. I couldn’t think of anyone important calling. Michelle knew where I was and wouldn’t bother me if my house was burning down. I ignored it. Azmir’s tongue slowly left my mouth and worked its way to my chin and eventually to my neck. My insides were liquidating; my back was shivering.

The phone stopped vibrating. His tongue had just the right amount of moisture and speed. If there was anything I hated it was a sloppy tongue
, slinging saliva everywhere and Azmir was no rookie kisser, he’d proven that long ago. He landed on my neck and my breathing involuntarily increased to a speed that I couldn’t conceal. My phone started vibrating again. His hands went for my breasts massaging them. They were heavy and swollen. I could feel the blood rushing to my nipples. The phone stopped. I took my hand and ran it underneath his shirt intermingling with his abdomen muscles. Oooh, the exterior of his chest was so smooth that my hand slithered all over it including up and down his back. He took his tongue action down my cleavage. To keep myself from moaning any louder I began nibbling on his ear. 

My phone went off again. This time his phone wanted to play along. He lifted his head from my chest and meticulously worked his way back up to my left ear and
whispered, “Can I make love to you, Ms. Brimm?”

The question opened my eyes.
Could he get any sexier?

I
pulled back to look into his eyes–eyes that were drunken with lust as he was overcome by the same heavy desire that I was. The same need to explore and release the sexual promises pending between us.

“What makes you think I don’t wanna just fuck…
I mean
smash?” I breathed.

He gave me
his sexy chortle and said, “I just cooked you dinner–fed you dessert and all I get is a smash?” My phone started up again.
Damn it!

I
offered to him, “Azmir, you can have it any way you want it.” 

At that
, he took my right leg, gently laid it on the left side of him, and rested himself in between. The phone stopped.

He looked me deep in my eyes for a few seconds. I didn’t know why until he whispered, “You’re so
fucking beautiful, Brimm.”

All I could hear
in the distance was Damon Hall singing, “
Never Enough
” quietly in the background. I gave him a crooked smile, took his face in my hands, and kissed him with more aggression than before. He pulled my shirt further down off my shoulder as I fought his low hanging jeans trying to undo his button.
Finally. Got it!
I pulled his shirt from over his head and was caught off guard by his chiseled frame. Sans the clothes was the beautiful exposure of his crafty sculpted being. Azmir’s body was truly a work of art. The phone vibrated again. He pulled me up to return the favor of freeing me from my blouse.

When
eyes landed on my bra, he paused then shifted his gaze to mine. I didn’t know why so I murmured, “Is everything okay?”

His face was blank but his eyes told another story as they closed slowly and quickly opened with
newfound resolve.

“
Yes…more than okay.” Slowly he began licking me vertically from my neck to the buckle of my jeans. My belly jerked and my shoulders shivered. I couldn’t believe how my body was betraying me with desperate regard to his touch. I don’t recall ever wanting a man so bad. When he got there my work cellular phone rang.

Azmir lifted his head and murmured, “You better get that.”

Shit!
I wanted to punch the couch. He was right. I had to remember I was still on call.

I answered all breathy to hear the voice of my boss, Mr. Smith, “Ah…Rayna, it’s Dan Smith calling. I apologize for calling you on your work line but we’ve been trying you on your personal line for some time now to no avail. There’s been an accident. Michelle is here at
Cedars-Sinai. She’s been holding off from calling you but things are too unstable so she agreed to have you contacted.”

I cupped my mouth
fighting back the tears. I managed, “Th…Thanks, sir….I’m on my way,” and ended the call trying to slow down my racing mind and my humming body.

Azmir didn’t
speak at first. He just came to my side and placed his hand firmly on my back. He took a moment before asking, “What is it?”

“Michelle is in the hospital. I have to go.” I jumped to my feet trying to gather my things.

I almost headed out the door without my shirt until Azmir called out, “Hold up. You can’t drive like this. I’ll take you.”

After throwing on our clothes
, we headed out the door. I checked my phone and saw it was two fifty-three a.m. when we got down into Azmir’s condominium’s parking lot. We walked to his parked CLS Mercedes that was to the right of his black Range Rover, which was parked right next to his silver S-class 550 Mercedes. I knew this because of the posts in front of all of the vehicles displaying the name
A.D.J.
There was also a fancy sports car that I, of course, had no clue of the type. A few days later, it hit me that Azmir was no meager community enthusiast or a struggling low-level entrepreneur.
He was a big baller!

I stifled my tears the entire drive to the hospital, whimpering suppressed cries. I didn’t want to totally lose it in front him. Azmir grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight letting me know he sympathized with me. That was the only way I remembered he was there because my mind was on the possibility of losing Michelle. About
thirty minutes later, we arrived at the hospital.

When we
exited the elevator, I noticed an army of people waiting on news about Michelle; worst of all was Amber. When she saw me, she rolled her eyes. I couldn’t focus on that, my best friend was in there in trouble. Michelle’s girlfriend, April, who was with her when she was pulled into the emergency room rushed to me and said, “Rayna! I’m glad you’re here.” She glanced over at Azmir, I knew what she was thinking and was glad she decided on discretion. Azmir was a very attractive man, his tall and erect poise alone commanded your attention. She anxiously informed me, “Michelle tried to wait until the absolute last minute to have us call you. She said you were extremely busy.”

“What happened, April?” I asked trying to deflect the conversation knowing so many were in ear shot. My private life was just that. Private. And it would stay that way. Even Michelle understood that, which is why she likely never mentioned what I was busy doing. But it was clear that April was able to construe the truth given Azmir’s lush presence as he towered over me, his hand insulating around my waist gripping my body into his chest. It was odd. Possessive. But strangely sheltering. I felt protected.

Azmir’s phone went off. He checked it and asked if I’d be okay while he took the call. I agreed feeling it was best to keep Michelle’s condition private.

Once he was away
, I urged April for an explanation with my eyes. She caught on right away and gave me the run down.

“Two things. The first is that her doctor who ordered her follow up mammogram found a mass in her other breast. So he called
early yesterday morning and asked her to come in immediately for a biopsy because the cancer could have possibly advanced. I don’t know why Michelle didn’t go like she was asked to.”

My heart stopped. Michelle didn’t go because she didn’t want to kill my spirits before my date with Azmir. She foolishly put her health at risk by trying to get me alone with Azmir.

April continued, “A few hours ago, while we were hanging out, Michelle said she didn’t feel well. She didn’t look so hot either. She panicked and asked that we bring her to the ER. When we got here the doctor noticed Michelle had been drinking. Well, it’s not like she was drunk or anything…just had a few drinks while laughing and eating. Well, the doctor said the alcohol may have interacted with her medication so he needed to run a few tests and possibly pump her stomach.”

“Y
ou let her drink?!” I shouted in agitation. At that moment everyone’s attention turned to me. April lowered her head in shame.

“April, Michelle has advance
d stage carcinoma. Her medications are highly toxic. Although she tries to maintain some level of social normality the fact still remains—she’s ill!” I reprimanded. “Where is she? I need to see her,” I demanded.

Azmir rejoined us bringing his long and comforting arms back around my waist. I was so preoccupied with Michelle’s omission that my concerns for her privacy had escaped me.
Dan Smith who was just a few feet away, but in hearing range, hurried over to the nurse station and asked was Michelle allowed any visitors yet. He then came over to Azmir and me and informed, “The last word from the doctor was that he was waiting on the results of the tests they’ve run. This could take a while considering the time; there aren’t many staff members on duty. So we’re waiting to hear back on that.” The more I heard the tighter my fists gripped aside my hips. Azmir must have felt the tension in my body because his grip constricted, too.

“Thanks, Mr. Smith
,” I said then realizing that he didn’t know who Azmir was. This was a good thing because I didn’t know if dating a business associate would be frowned upon. It was too late because Dan extended his hand and said, “Dan Smith. I’m Michelle’s uncle.”

I stilled not knowing what to do. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith this is a friend of mine, Divine Jacobs. Divine, Dan Smith is the Smith in
Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine…my boss.”

The two men shook hands as Azmir said, “A pleasure to meet you. It’s unfortunate under such circumstances, however. I’m hopeful of Michelle’s recovery.”

“Yes. Thank you very much,” Mr. Smith murmured trying to manage a smile.

After about a half an hour
, I was able to see her. I walked into the room terrified of what I could possibly find. Michelle was strapped to so many wires that were connected to machines that beeped at different times and tones. I walked over to the bed where she appeared to be sleeping. I rubbed my hand over her forehead. I didn’t think she was conscious or would awake from her deep sleep.

She
slowly opened her eyes and whispered through a dry throat, “Rayna. I’m so sorry!” as she began to tear up.

“No, baby. No! Don’t!” I said tearing
up myself. “I just need for you to be okay. Alright?” I felt a pointed sensation through my chest, gripping me as I stood and gazed at the strongest person I knew appearing feeble.

“I tried not to bother you but I got scared when the doctor mentioned me going under the knife. I thought you’d want to know
,” she whispered.

“You had better called me.
You should have told me Dr. Peterson ordered you here this morning. You should’ve called me on the way here.” I felt the tremors in my nose as I struggled to stop the tears from falling.

“You know I wouldn’t do that. By the way, did you get some?” she asked referring to Azmir. We both
giggled or at least she tried to. Her throat seemed extremely parched but I understood the sentiment.  After the laugh, I just stood there looking down at her feeling grateful for her humor. There was a pause for my thoughts.

“Well, hoe, did you?” she asked letting me know the question was not out of manners but true curiosity instead. So I had to indulge her.

“I was a few minutes away from detonating when I got the call.” I smiled with residue tears in my eyes, feeling a bit bashful and naughty at the same time.

“Damn it!” she pouted. We
giggled again.

The doctor came in and I went out to get everyone. April said Azmir went to make a phone call and would be right back. According to the doctor
, the results revealed the alcohol didn’t mix well with a specific medication she had taken, but he assured she’d be fine. She had to stay overnight for observation because of the stomach pumping procedure. He said they wanted to hydrate her before releasing her. So ultimately, she was fine. However, he explained that he contacted her oncologist and he strongly advised that Michelle stay and have the biopsy performed right away the following day. Hesitantly, Michelle agreed.

The doctor
left and we talked a little before Michelle called me over closer to her to speak privately. “Rayna, I’m fine now. Please go back and see if Azmir will forgive you for running out on him. If he’s asleep wake his ass up!” I got a good laugh out of that one.

“Well, I don’t have to go that far. He’s here
,” I said with a big Kool-Aid smile.

“What? Where?”

“He could be right outside. If not, somewhere near. He didn’t want me to drive so upset and out of sorts.”