Indulgence (175 page)

One afternoon, after returning from sightseeing, he asked,
“Did you want to bathe before dinner?”

“I would love to. I won’t be long. I’ll start filling the
tub right now,” she told him. As the tub filled, she began undressing. Albert’s
eyes watched her every move, admiring the image she presented. She pinned her
hair up, then removed her under garments, before gingerly stepping into the
huge brass tub. She sighed as she laid back, her head resting on the back of
the tub, as the hot water welcomed her. She had almost drifted off to sleep
when she heard a noise. Opening her eyes, she watched as Albert stepped into
the tub.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” he asked, smiling.

“Albert, why no, I just never. . .” she said, fumbling over
her words.

Pulling her to him, he told her, “Anne, after the past week
we’ve spent together, you can’t possibly be shy about anything we do together.”

“No, it’s just this is, well, not anything I expected.”

Nuzzling her neck, his hands busy awakening the passion in
her, he whispered, “Let me do everything, and I promise you’ll never want to
bathe without me again.” He was right, after that night, she never looked at
bathing in quite the same way.

By the time they left San Francisco, the two lovers had
discovered even more about each other. He had always known how passionate she
was about those she loved and now that passion was his alone. They both
regretted having to leave San Francisco, but knew they would remember this time
together, forever.

The evening they returned home from San Francisco, a feeling
of contentment washed over both of them as they pulled up in front of their
home. After unlocking the door and seeing Anne inside, Albert went to put the
horses and carriage away. She went throughout the house, lighting the lamps, as
Albert returned shortly and started a fire in the fireplace. When he stood up,
she molded herself to him, kissing him.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” she told him.

“Anne, I love your greeting,” he smiled. “I hope that you
always welcome me that way when I return home.”

Taking his hand, she told him, “I always will.” Then she
added, “You have to see this.”

Leading him into the living room, she indicated the piles of
wedding gifts neatly stacked on the far side of the room. “Your father thought
of everything,” she told him.

“He also brought Diablo and Mariah over, they’re in the
barn,” he said. Kissing her, he added, “We’ll see to the gifts another time. I
have other plans for tonight.”

“I thought as much,” she said, smiling at him.

As Albert carried their bags upstairs, she declined his help
in putting their clothing and personal effects away. “Just sit and talk to me,”
she told him.

Sitting on the settee, he watched as she took care folding
his shirts and placing them into his dresser. When finished, she told him, “As
much as I loved San Francisco and our time together there, I missed our home.”

“I did too. It’s good to be home. Now, Mrs. Stuart,” he said
taking her hand. “I think we need to reacquaint ourselves with our bed.”

Smiling at her husband, Anne grasped his hand as they
enjoyed the rest of the evening in a way that left them both exhausted and
fulfilled. With the wedding and honeymoon over, Albert and Anne settled into
their life together as man and wife in a perpetual love for each other.

I've always been a creative individual. Writing is just a
facet of that creativity...

My careers in public relations in and around the
entertainment industry, photography, editing, artist management, modeling and
special event planning all elevated my passion for writing, not to mention gave
me a treasure trove for story lines.

I write women's fiction; contemporary and historical romance
which is ever evolving. I am fortunate enough that writing (and marketing of
said product(s)) is my full-time job, although I always have one or two other
projects going at the same time.

I now live in a suburb of Atlanta. Some of my other
interests include photography, equestrianism, reading, and of course, travel.

I sincerely hope my writing will entertain, enlighten, and
inspire others to pick up the pen and pursue their own dreams. I love to be
contacted by readers, writers, and history buffs.

Contact me at:

Email:
[email protected]

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www.jamiesalisbury.com

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by
J.M. Witt

Blackbird

~ CASSIDY ~

May 2013

It was a cool, Spring Saturday night. I had just been
promoted to Junior Event Planner at Bea and Cecily, more commonly known as B
& C, and I was out to celebrate. My ‘boyfriend’ was performing at the Blue
Horse for the first time. My best friend, Holly, was dating the band’s front
man, Sam, and she was the happiest I remember seeing her in all the years we’d
been friends. I wasn’t sure it would last, but time would tell.

We got to the bar, which was an unfamiliar one to us, and
took our seats. Holly was crooning about Sam and I was
trying
to listen.
After our drinks arrived, she mentioned that the bar was just purchased by a
friend of Dan’s. I simply shrugged my shoulders and smiled, vaguely remembering
her saying that Dan and the new owner went to high school together. If she
mentioned a name, I didn’t catch it.

Holly was also celebrating. She had recently gotten a job at
an art gallery. She was a free spirit, which tended to get her in trouble from
time to time. It was probably what drew me to her like a moth to the flame. She
was out-going, artistic, and had mountains of confidence—knew how to love and
live fast and hard. The fact that she was also an orphan had made her super
independent; she’d been supporting herself since she was seventeen.

My upbringing was the opposite of Holly’s. I grew up in a
middle-class family, with an older brother, a mom and a dad. We had our share
of drama just like every other family. I went to school with the same kids from
elementary school all the way through high school.
That wasn’t necessarily a
good thing.

I was with Dan, the bassist for a few weeks by the time that
night rolled around. Meeting Dan had been a setup, which I normally hated, but
there we were. I remembered Holly asking me, “What’s the worst that could
happen?” a few weeks prior to meeting Dan.

What a loaded question. I over analyzed anything and
everything. Holly was one of those people who could just let go; I truly envied
that quality. She was always telling me, “Just let go, Cass! Have some fun.”

Currently I was preoccupied, staring at the tall drink of
water that had just walked out of the back room.
God, he was hot!
He was
on his cell, clearly in a heated conversation. He had me completely captivated
and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Close to six and a half feet tall, his
face was
clearly
chiseled by the hand of God. Great nose, cheekbones and
a jaw line covered in a dusting of hair. It was obvious that he worked out; he
was built like a linebacker with broad shoulders and that perfect V shape that
many athletes are able to maintain.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! What are you looking at?” Holly
pulled me from my trance just as the object of my desire turned his back.
The
view was almost as nice as his front—if that damn shirt wasn’t hiding his ass
from my hungry eyes.

Holly followed the nod of my head. “Damn! He’s got to be
close to seven feet tall. I wonder who that is.” She seemed just as intrigued
as I was.

I rolled my eyes at her exaggeration of his height. “Just
because you’re a dwarf doesn’t make him a giant. He’s perfect!” I could hear
Foo Fighters playing overhead, though I don’t recall what song. Holly continued
to admire him until Sam walked over with Dan following close behind. The night
proceeded like any other. The band performed three sets while I drank too much
and danced too little. I couldn’t stop my eyes from searching for
him
all
night.

*****

A week later we were at the Blue Horse again. Dan walked
over to Holly and me, in between sets, with Sam and the object of my lust
behind him.
Oh shit!

“Guys, this is James, he’s the owner. We go way back.” Dan
smacked James on the shoulder, which was a feat considering the height
difference. James didn’t look amused and only took his eyes off mine long
enough to introduce himself to Holly. He then held his hand out to me.

“And you are?” Is there such a thing as eye-fucking? ‘Cause
if there was he was doing it. I felt myself blush when I took his hand.
Electricity ran up my arm and down to my core.

“This is my girl, Cassidy.” I wanted to shout at Dan ‘
I’m
not your girl just because we’re sleeping together.’

James held onto my hand a little longer than necessary,
running his thumb back and forth across the back of it. He looked down at our
joined hands and I followed his gaze. He was trailing a finger over the
blackbird tattoo on my wrist, studying it intently.

“Blackbird, it suits you.”

I was speechless, mesmerized by the green of his eyes and
envious of his long dark lashes. His touch sent goose bumps up my arm and no
one seemed to notice except the two of us.

Similar encounters happened several more times over the
following weeks. James and I had various run-ins at the bar, in the back lot,
and at the front door. Each time he would shake my hand and call me ‘Blackbird’
and I would remind him of my name to which he would simply smile. I welcomed
the contact each and every time, sometimes seeking him out purposely, and he
always left me wanting more.

*****

June

My whole ‘relationship’
with Dan was a blur of late
nights and early mornings—mostly spent with him, Holly and Sam. The three of
them were a great and horrible influence on me all at once. Every morning that
damn alarm clock went off I regretted my late night shenanigans, but at least I
was in my own bed. One thing I insisted on with Dan was that I stayed at home
on work nights. Soft Rockets (yes that was the name of the band) had gigs every
Friday and Saturday. I looked forward to Saturday every week; the day I could
finally sleep in.

On that muggy Friday night I walked up the steps after a
long day at work. When I walked inside the apartment that Holly and I shared, I
could hear my iPod blaring
White Houses
by
Vanessa Carlton
,
again
. Holly played it constantly and I was getting
sick of listening to it. I could hear Vanessa shrieking all the way down the
hall.

Our apartment was a dump and not in the best part of town,
but it was ours. I met Holly at The Diner almost five years ago. I was looking
for a job while taking classes when I met her. We hit it off immediately and we
had been inseparable ever since.

Dropping my purse on the table, I headed to Holly’s room
after turning down the music. I threw myself on her bed. She poked her head out
of her closet, “How long do you need? They go on at 9!”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “You sure Sara can’t go? I’m
wiped out.”

Sara introduced Holly and Sam. She was a friend of Holly’s
from the art gallery. I slept poorly the night before—another case of
insomnia—as images of James raced through my head. I wasn’t up to seeing Dan.
Our arrangement was completely casual and I’d already seen him three times that
week. I wasn’t even sure how much longer I wanted it to last. However, I
didn’t
mind the thought of seeing James. We eye-fucked each other every chance we got.
I was always in a better mood after laying eyes on him.
I’m a horrible
person.

“Cassidy Charles! You are not backing out on me now! Get
your ass in your room and put on something nice and sexy!”

Nice I could do. Sexy? Has she met me? I obeyed on a
chuckle. I really shouldn’t have been so opposed to the whole thing. One of my
favorite things to do was go to a bar and listen to local bands. I dragged
myself off her bed and headed to my room.

I strolled to my closet and proceeded to try on half a dozen
different shirts. I went ‘bold’ and settled on my khaki dress shorts, a nude
cami and a low cut sheer lavender tank with a sequin hem. I pulled my hair up
in a loose bun, with a few strays circling my face, and put on my dangly silver
earrings. I touched up my makeup, darkening it around my eyes. Now what shoes
to wear? That was always the worst part. I was a clumsy fool and decided to
play it safe with some silver ballet flats.

“You are
not
wearing those shoes!” Holly snuck into
my room and caught me off guard. The girl was a pro in heels. She could walk
down the beach in stilettos and not wobble at all. Me? I wobbled in my tennis
shoes.

“Holly, you can’t be serious. I hate heels and heels hate
me. You know this!” And I certainly didn’t feel the need to add any inches to
my height that night. Dan wasn’t much taller than me and I was uncomfortable
towering over him. What I wouldn’t give for a
tall
guy, like James.

I heard Holly, ‘eh-hem’ so I looked up and my jaw dropped,
no longer oblivious to what she was wearing, as she did a spin for me. It
must
be love. I had never seen her go to so much trouble for a guy. She had pulled
out all the stops. She was wearing a short green backless dress and six inch
heels, her blonde hair, with highlights the color of the rainbow, sat just
below her shoulders with a section pulled up on top. She looked great.