Brooklyn's Song (9 page)

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Authors: Sydney Arrison

BOOK: Brooklyn's Song
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He was still patting his hair dry when she walked back into the room.

“Here you go,” she said, handing him the shirt.

“Thanks.” He unfolded the shirt and burst out laughing. “So you really are a Superman fan.”

The shirt was a blue t-shirt with the Superman emblem on the chest.

She laughed. “Yes, I am.”

‘He pulled the shirt over his head, and although it was extra large, it still was a little snug.

“How does it look?”

“It’s so you.”

“I got you a little present,” Song said.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, but since you did …I’ll accept,” she said, jokingly.

He sat the box on the table.

“Open it,” he said, with excited anticipation.

Brooklyn began to open the box. “Now what could this be? Oh Song, they’re beautiful!” she said looking at the yellow and white roses, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I talked to Lonette and she told me that these are your favorite.”

“Yes, they are, let me put then in some water. I was thinking since it doesn’t look like the rain is going to let up any time soon, maybe we should stay in and have dinner here. . . What do you think?”

“That will be fine with me,” Song said, peering out the window.

“So, what would you like for dinner? Yesterday I made a Hungarian goulash soup. It’s my housekeeper Marta’s favorite recipe. “

“The soup sounds good.”

“Song, are there any updates on my dad’s case?”

‘We’re following a lot of leads and we’re making progress every day. It’s an ongoing investigation, so I can’t say too much. As soon as something significant happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Brooklyn filled a vase with water and placed the flowers inside. She sat the vase in the center of the cherry oak island.

“Help yourself to a glass of wine; you know where the glasses are. I’ll heat the soup; I have a tabletop, portable gas stove.”

Song poured himself a glass of wine. He leaned against the counter and watched Brooklyn stir a pot of soup.

“Were you giving your dog commands in Hungarian the other day?”

“Yes, Marta gave Jules and me our dog Bella for Christmas about two years ago. Since Marta is fluent in her native language, we wanted to learn it too.” She laughed. “That way we could communicate with Marta and each other without our dad knowing what we were saying. It drives him crazy, although he does know the basic commands. How about you, do you speak other languages?”

“My grandmother and my parents are from South Korea. When she came over here she learned English early on and insisted that my parents learn it too. They live in Minnesota. Grandmother is very proud of her Korean heritage so she made sure my sisters and I were fluent in both English and Korean. I also learned to speak Spanish and Italian in high school.”

“Do your sisters live in the city?”

“No, I have one sister who is married to a Marine and living in Germany right now. My other sister married a fisherman and they reside in Alaska.”

Brooklyn offered Song a taste of the soup. He sat his wine glass down and watched as she puckered her lips and softly blew on the soup to cool it before giving it to him. She was standing so close he could smell her perfume, the same perfume that lingered on his jacket. His eyes met hers when his mouth touched the spoon.

“Mmm, it’s delicious!” Can I help you with something in the kitchen?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind, you can take the bowls out of the cupboard, she said, pointing to the cupboard.

Chapter 30

The rain continued to patter the large picture windows, and drum on the skylight overhead. Brooklyn and Song sat across from each other eating their dinner.

He dipped his bread into his soup bowl. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure go ahead,” she said, sipping from her wine glass.

“What did you think of me when you first met me?”

“Can I plead the 5th?” she said, laughing.

“No, seriously, tell me what you thought?”

”Well, I thought you were…” She wanted to say sexy, desirable and hot. Instead she said, “Kind, warm and focused. “

“That’s a fair assessment, I guess.”

“What did you think of me?’ Brooklyn asked.

“I thought you were absolutely beautiful! And considering the circumstances, you carried yourself with such class and grace.”

“Wow! That’s really sweet, but I bet you say that to all the ladies,” Brooklyn said, with a smile.

“Maybe when I was younger and before I was married…” Song’s eyes had a faraway look. “I’m sorry.” Song placed his napkin on the table.

Brooklyn could see the pain coming to the surface and it made her want to comfort him.

“Song, you don’t have to-“

“I know,” he said, sliding his chair out from the table. He walked over and stood in front of the window. He put his hands in his pockets and stared out into the darkness.

“This week is always tough for me; yesterday was the anniversary of my wife’s death. I’ll never forget that night…I was sitting outside this restaurant on a stakeout when the call came over the radio. The dispatcher told me to get to 54th street right away. Even before I got out of the car, I knew … “His voice broke with emotion. “I knew my wife was gone. I knew life would never be the same again. He killed her and himself….All because he had to drink and drive.”

The thunder and lightning crackled and rumbled outside making the window look like one giant plasma ball.

Song didn’t hear her approaching footsteps as he stood at the window. He felt relieved when he felt her arms around him. Brooklyn rested her head against his back and whispered, “It’s alright.”

He turned to face her. Although the candlelight was dim, he could still see the tears on her cheeks. It made his heart overflow knowing she cared that much for him. He moved in closer and softly touched his lips to hers. She welcomed the kiss and pressed herself into him. She felt his hands beneath her shirt, touching, and stroking her breasts. Brooklyn slowly pulled away.

“It’s been …It’s been awhile for me and I’m not on birth control…”  Brooklyn didn’t know what else to say. She felt like such a fool.

He lifted her chin, looked into her eyes and said, “I understand, would you think it presumptions of me, if I told you I brought something with me?”

She smiled. “Yes, I would think that it was very presumptions of you. What kind of girl do you think I am,” she said, feigning being insulted.

Brooklyn took Song by the hand and led him to the bedroom. He lie back on the bed fully clothed, his hands locked behind his head as he watched her toss her tank top on the floor and step out of her yoga pants. Completely nude, she climbed on the bed and hovered over him, her eyes burning through him, the scent of her perfume engulfing him. Brooklyn gently pecked him on the lips while she straddled him. She reached between his legs and felt his erection growing and fighting to be released. Her touch made him throb with desire. The sensation was overwhelming and intoxicating. He quickly flipped her over; now he was on top.

He studied her beautiful face, leaned in and crashed his mouth against hers. Her hands traveled under his t-shirt and over his taut muscles. Song slid his tongue between her lips and greedily kissed and nibbled. The kiss wasn’t enough; he wanted more….Needed more. He slowly traced the pad of his thumb down her throat, and around her erect chocolate brown nipples. When his lips tugged on them; he watched her eyes glaze over with pleasure. She softly sighed and moaned, “Song, Song.”

Brooklyn gazed into Song’s brown eyes; the golden flecks around them seemed to shimmer in the candle light. She felt a warmth building; a burning between her legs for him. He was doing this to her; making her feel this way. His hands continued to explore every inch of her body. She shuddered when she felt his tongue gliding over her belly button and down her mound. She reached for him and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He stood and stepped out of his pants. She raised her hips giving him full access to her. Brooklyn’s thighs trembled with anticipation. She gasped when she felt his tongue lapping at her; feasting on her.

“Brooklyn, look at me. Let me see your eyes. Let me see your face. That beautiful face,

“Ja-gi-ya (darling),” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and her face was a mask of pure ecstasy. Brooklyn watched as he hastily opened the condom. Before she knew it, he was slowly easing himself into her, sliding inside. She writhed and moaned as he plunged deeper, piercing her with each thrust and hitting the spot that ached and burned for more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and moved along with him. Song laced his fingers between Brooklyn’s and quickened his pace.

She arched her back to get closer to him as he moved forcefully inside her. She cried out his name over and over as a smoldering climax rushed through her like a raging ocean wave. Song felt an explosion of pleasure envelop him; the intensity so great and lingering, it rendered him speechless and motionless for a moment. Then with what little strength he had left, he glanced down into Brooklyn’s eyes and whispered, "ja-gi-ya.”

They lie wrapped in each other’s arms in complete silence as the storm bellowed outside; rattling the windows. The hail sounded like an insistent intruder trying to get in. Song stroked Brooklyn’s hair while she rested her head against his chest. She propped up her chin with her hand and gazed at him. His hair was mussed and his cheeks were flushed. Flashes from the lightning illuminated his beautiful golden skin.

“Song, what does “Ja-gi-ya” mean?” Brooklyn asked.

“Ja-gi-ya” means darling in Korean. Tell me what you wished for when you picked the pollen out of my hair?”

Brooklyn lifted her head off Song’s chest and kissed him. “I wished to be here, like this with you,” she said softly.

Song caressed her cheek and smiled.

When Brooklyn heard Song ease into sleep and before she let fatigue over take her, she thought, it feels so good to be in his arms; it feels safe, secure… It feels so right.

Chapter 31

The sunlight peeked through the sheer linen panels and skimmed across Song’s face. He rolled over and realized Brooklyn wasn’t beside him. She hurried into the room wearing one shoe and carrying the other. She was wearing a pair of gray dress pants and a cream colored blouse.

“Good morning, I’m running a little late. I made some coffee and I have bagels.” She bent down and slipped her foot into the shoe, then searched her jewelry box for a pair of earrings.

“Good morning,” Song said, sounding a little groggy.

She applied some lip-gloss and her eyes met his in the mirror.

“How did you sleep?” Brooklyn asked, cheerfully.

Song held up his head, leaning his cheek against his hand. He watched her; admiring the way the dress pants hugged her hips and the sheer fabric of her blouse outlined her breasts. He thought about her beneath him; her delicate brown skin, moist, gliding against his. Song felt himself becoming aroused.

“I slept very well, how about you?” he asked.

She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge next to him. He caught the scent of her perfume and closed his eyes.

Brooklyn ran her hands through Songs hair, leaned in and kissed him. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” she whispered, “I’ll call you later. I have to get to class. Just lock up behind yourself.”

She was on her way out of the bedroom when he called to her, “Ja-gi-ya.” She turned. “It was the best sleep, I’ve had in years,” he said.

She smiled and winked at him.

 

Chapter 32

Song was getting into his car outside of Brooklyn’s loft when he heard a voice.

“I never thought I’d see you doing the ‘walk of shame.’”

He quickly turned and Hunter Reed was standing there with her photographer.

“Hunter, what are you doing here? Are you following me?” He tried to tamp down the anger he felt.

She grinned and flicked her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out with a spiky red heel. “No, I’m following the story.”

Song raked his hands through his hair. Trying to keep his cool, but really annoyed, he said, “There’s no story here.”

“Sure there is; you just don’t know it yet.” She walked away and the photographer followed behind her.

Song got in his car, took a deep breath and merged into traffic. He stopped off at his apartment to shower and change clothes. Bernice had left him a note telling him that she and Grandmother had gone shopping and were going to the park afterwards.

******

When Song arrived at the station, Mattice was sitting at their adjoined desk. Mattice’s reading glasses rested on the tip of his nose while he typed using only his pointer fingers.

“Good morning,” Song said.

Mattice looked up and stared at Song for a second, placed his glasses on the desk and a big grin spread across his face. “Looks like you had a hell of a night.”

Song slumped down in the desk chair across from Mattice. He made sure no one was nearby. “I have a problem; today when I was leaving Brooklyn’s apartment, I ran into Hunter. I think she may have followed me there.”

Mattice let out a whistle and pulled his chair closer to the desk. “I knew it!” he said, excitedly, “You spent the night with Brooklyn.”

“Mattice, I can use some help here; what should I do about Hunter?”

“Why is she going all Alex Forrest on you?”

Song looked confused and said, “Who the hell is Alex Forrest?”

Mattice had a “duh” expression on his face. “Fatal Attraction…Boiling the bunny?”

Song stared at Mattice. What?”

Mattice waved his hand. “Never mind; it sounds like she was following you. Maybe you should consider a restraining order or talk to the station manager.” Mattice slapped Song on the shoulder. “Now tell me about last night.”

Song rolled his eyes. “I’m a gentlemen and a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Mattice laughed and handed Song a stack of folders. “Here you go lover boy; I saved these for you. I’m checking out names from both fundraisers. Grab a cup of coffee and get to work.”

“Sure thing,” Song replied.

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