Lovers

lovers

CHAPTER ONE

 

My heart rate increased, my breathing was short and quick, there was fluttering in my stomach and my chest was tight. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my senses went into overdrive. Every muscle was coiled tighter than Dick’s hatband in anticipation of his first touch. There was nothing to tell me that he stood behind me but I knew he was there.

When I first noticed him…no, not noticed, but felt. When I first felt him looking at me, my first thought was that he’d been doing so for some time.  Sitting at one of the few tables in the club his legs were crossed at the knee, one arm laid on the tabletop the other rested in his lap. He stuck out from the rest of the crowd. Instead of the club clothes the rest of us wore he had on a suit and even from where I stood, which was on the opposite side of the crowded and dark night club, I knew it was expensive. That was the first time my traitorous body failed me. I wanted to look away, to turn around, but I was powerless to move an inch. Everything I needed to know about him I could see in his eyes. He was use to getting what he wanted, and he wanted me.

This ordinarily, would not have posed a problem for me. I’m use to attention; go out of my way for it, I fucking thrive on it. The mock turtleneck, long sleeved, lace dress that stopped mid-thigh and showed off my brief panties and push up bra screamed for the eyes of every man I passed to look at me. Had I not been out on the hunt myself? Looking for some unsuspecting prey to bed? Yet, here I stand.

Paralyzed.

I will never again shout at my television when I see zebra, wildebeest, gazelles or any other animal frozen, scared still, as they try to sense the predator lurking in high grass or in the bush, hidden within striking distant.  I pity every creature I’ve ever seen give pause before impending doom. A category that now includes me. How the fuck had that happened?

 

The hand on my hip stops my breath and makes my heart work double time. The fluttering in my stomach is no longer butterflies but a damned exaltation of larks. My whole body tingles and I become so aroused that my coochie is damned near weeping.  I take a deep breath to try to regain some semblance of control. The smell of his cologne makes me weak. It makes me want to kiss him. A kiss that is long and slow and sensual. A kiss that will take my breath away. The kind that ready one’s body and mind for extraordinary pleasure.

The hand makes a slow climb up my body until it came to rest around my throat. I swallowed as the fingers tightened. He pulled me back against his chest, placed his nose behind my ear and inhale deeply. The warmth of his breath on my neck as he exhaled sends shivers down my spine. The whisper of a kiss he placed on the side of my neck stills me completely.

“Beautiful girl you smell good.”

The soft pressure on my throat, his whispered words, the feel of his chest against my back raising and falling as he breathe, stole my words. I want to say something, anything, to let him know I was in the same league. But, hell, we weren’t even playing the same game. He smiled. I could feel it spread across his lips. Lips that were still pressed against my skin.

“Easy,” he whispered, his hold around my neck tightening.

How he knew I was about to move I have no idea. I was going to run. Whatever he was offering was more than I needed. It was more than I wanted. This was the second time my body let me down. Like a good girl I didn’t move an inch, even though I was getting conflicting signals. My body wanted nothing more than to rub all over the hard chest that was pressed into my back; my mind was screaming, hello, there’s a hand around your throat. But there was nothing in the touch that said he meant me harm.

I steady my breathing and felt him move closer. The one step allowed me to feel his erection in the small of my back and God help me, behind my still closed lids I imagine the things that could be done with it and to it. He took another long deep breath, one that made me feel like he was committing my scent to memory. He kissed me behind my ear, a second one lower, until his nose is on my hair and his lips are pressed against the back of neck. Each kiss was a soft promise of things to come.

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