Love Delayed (28 page)

“
Zo, man, what the fuck is so funny?”

It took her a while to
respond. She made a few attempts, but eventually she was able to speak in pieces. “I’m. Hiiiigh!”

Slowly, a smile pulled at my face.

“Yeah, you are,” I agreed.

I tried to give her a few minutes to get past her laughing episode, but it didn’t happen so quickly. I lifted
Zoey again, carried her into the pool, raised her jerking body in the air and tossed her in the water. Zoey reemerged without humor. She was pissed.

“Are you serious, Stent!” she
spluttered as she tried to wipe her face and keep water from her mouth, then started brushing her hair from her face.

She couldn’t see me wading my way over to her. When I reached her
, I pulled her into my arms and as she was about to start ripping into my ass, I covered her mouth with a kiss. It didn’t take her long to join me. Neither did it take her long to reach her next climax there in the pool.

~
Stenton
~

The next day, we rose early, cooked breakfast together—or I should say, she gave me another cooking lesson. I made us reservations for
dune buggy riding. When we arrived, we started off with a vintage two-seater and I drove us wildly throughout the open desert, spinning dirt underneath the wheels. I got a high from speeding on open soil terrain. Zoey seemed to enjoy it and even asked to take over the wheel.

I glanced over
at her, doubtfully. “Really? You wanna try?”

“Yeah, why not? Because I’m a girl?”

“Well, yeah, if we’re keeping it real,” I answered honestly.

Zoey
lowered her mask, rolled her eyes, and got out of the passenger side. I watched as she came over to the driver’s and snapped her neck, telling me to move. I pulled out of the cart and got into the passenger’s seat. Before she could finish telling me to get ready, she launched. Her take off was jumpy. She had to get used to the accelerator and steering wheel coordination, but she kept stride until she got it. Zoey started cutting short, swerving and busting U-turns before I felt she was quite ready…or maybe
I
wasn’t quite ready. On the low, she was scaring the shit out of me, but I would never whisper a word of fear to a woman. When she came to a smooth stop, I was relieved. However, my ease didn’t last too long because as I was wrapping up our rentals with the manager, I caught Zo staring across the lot at quads.

“No
,” I spoke adamantly in her ear.

Zoey
didn’t give me the startled reaction I was going for. Instead, she kept her eyes on the quads.

“We have to,” she murmured.

“Have to?”

“Yeah.” She turned to me. “You ever met that time in your life where you have this short period of insanity? Th
at small stretch of time where you can do whatever crazy things you want without considering the consequences? It’s because you know you’ll likely never get the opportunity again. You may never feel the euphoria again, so you just go for it.”

I stared at her for a while, receiving so many revelations from the many metaphors she gave. Did she not think she would go away again? Did she not think she’d be with me again? Did she think this was a one-time thing? Or was it simply about riding quads?

“Never mind.” She exhaled and began to walk off.

I caught her by the hand and she jerked back to where
we were joined, then her eyes traveled up to mine. Our gazes locked and something clicked. There was some crazy type of channeling and I found myself nodding my head, agreeing to the race.

I knew precisely what
Zoey meant, far more than I would admit to her or anyone in that moment. I knew there were things I wanted to do with her, to her, and for her that she may not agree to because she was not ready for it. She needed time to grow and experience life without my influence. She was still young. But I knew. I had completely allowed reality to escape me while out there with her. Hell, I willed it to. I wanted everything I could take in that period of time in paradise with her. I wanted to do shit that I’d never thought of. Crazy shit. Selfish shit. Ill consequential shit. And I started with this high-speed race with her.

We spent the next three hours on the race
course, riding
Kawasaki KFX 700s
where Zoey wore my ass out. She won all but two races against me. To say she didn’t walk off the lot that day with her chest out, talking mad shit wouldn’t be describing her gloat.

Zoey and I
returned to the house for a shower and nap. That night for dinner Barry and Rob tagged along. We had dinner at a low key restaurant where we took shots and had a blast talking about nothing at all, but finding humor in everything. Zoey fit in like an old friend of ours. She didn’t appear uncomfortable being the only female, and so far from home. I didn’t mind her drinking, especially after the way she explained her private perspective on being here with me.

After dinner,
Zoey asked to go for a walk to get to know the area. I found myself walking hand in hand with her down the festive streets where there were shops and merchandise lining the block, buzzing with locals. Zoey loved to touch. There was rarely a moment when we were alone or in our own private space where she didn’t touch me. She’d have her arms wrapped around my waist, her arm behind me while rubbing my back, her face caressing my arm or her hand at my chest or abdomen. This was something I’d never experienced before, likely because I never kept a woman around long enough to be comfortable with someone in my personal space. Nonetheless, with Zo it felt natural in no time.

At some point, we stopped almost in the middle of the road. Rob and Barry
were looking one way and caught my attention with a bar that they’d claimed to have not been familiar with, although they’d been coming into town every day since arriving. We watched the patrons go in and out, getting an idea of what type of clientele the place catered to—or at least that’s what I was doing and assumed they were, too. Absentmindedly, my eyes roved over to my right to Zoey, whose attention was elsewhere, more specifically across the street on a tattoo parlor. The shots we took had me twisted, damn near wasted, so it took me a minute to figure out what it was.

“What’s going on over there?” I bent down and asked in her ear.

I didn’t startle her, not that I was trying to, but it just showed how deep in thought she was.

Her arm pulled up and her index finger pointed to the
parlor. “I want to go in there.”

“Why?”
She had no tats, I didn’t understand the sudden interest.

Then those doe eyes looked up at me. “Short period of insanity.” A small smile played at her lips.

“Yo, Rob…B!” I called over to the guys and pointed to the tattoo parlor as Zoey pulled me across the street.

When we walked in,
Zoey eyed all the drawings and sketches on the wall, seemingly amazed. I guessed this was a first for her.

I sidled up beside her and asked, “You picking out a new tat for me?” That was some personal shit. I picked all of my
own ink.

Still gazing the wall, she shook her head. “No. You can pick out your own.”

Huhn?

I snorted, “Shit,
Zo. Are you getting inked?”

She turned to me with a shy smile while biting her bottom lip. “But just something small. I need to figure out just what.” Her hands made their way up my t-shirt to my bare chest, softly running over my abs and
pecs. “What are you getting?”

“Me?” I looked at her with incredulity.

She nodded excitedly, still biting that damn bottom lip.

I let out a breath. “Shit,
Zo. I don’t know. You sprung this on me. I usually take time to consider what I want it to express. I’ve never done it on a whim.”

Her hands kept caressing my chest, exciting me, goading me. “You mean to tell me, out of all the ones I’m feeling now…”
she rounded to my back. “None of these were done while intoxicated?” And that’s when I recognized the slant in her eyes, reminding me of the shots we indulged in.

I shook my head.

“Well, I’m not getting one by myself. You pick out one so we can get started.” She pushed off my chest and strutted away to talk to the artist.

I took a few minutes to first decide if I wanted this
, then when that was done, I had to think of an expression I wanted, forever. That decision took a little longer than the first, but excited me three times as much.

Zoey
glanced back at me over her shoulder, I knew, asking for my final answer. When I gave her an affirmative nod, she hopped over to a table behind a curtain to begin her first ink job. I looked around to find the other artist I noticed earlier and saw Rob and Barry, who appeared to be smirking.

“What the fuck?” I asked, my forehead wrinkled.

“That chick got you wrapped around her little finger, chief,” Rob snickered and Barry followed.

While at the station getting my latest tat, I thought about what Rob said and realized he was right.
Zo had my ass open and there was no need to deny it. I was on that
do whatever
crazy things you want without considering the consequences
shit right along with my Niña. It took less than an hour before my art was complete. When I walked out to the small reception area, Zoey, Rob and Barry were there waiting.

Zoey
jumped up, bouncing on her toes. “Let me see…let me see!” She was so damn excited.

I was a little nervous…doubtful, and not about my decision
, only about her reaction. I extended my left hand and showed her the wide band of black ink on my ring finger, resembling a wedding band. At the top of my finger was the letter
E
, her first initial.

Her eyes slowly traveled up to meet mine. “Elizabeth?” she asked on a shaky breath.

My stomach started toiling.
Shit! She’s going to think I’m a freak
.

“Eternity,” I murmured as I nodded cautiously
, because it truly amended her answer. I wanted Elizabeth for an eternity and had thought of a way to have it.

She didn’t speak for a while, didn’t move. I saw tears brimming at her eyes. They turned pink. I was not prepared to make this girl cry. I didn’t think I could handle that shit. Just when I was about to say something to curb my insane decision,
she spoke.

“Stent,” she quickly
scraped her top lip between her teeth as she glanced away. Then her beautiful brown irises returned to me. She whispered, “I-I don’t have desires for marriage or…well, I’ve never desired to get into a committed relationship so young. There are so many things I need to do before I can settle into a life that requires me to give my all to a man. I’m sure I will…but just when I’ve served my purpose in life and then can commit to him. With you…” She looked beyond me again. “You’re… I don’t know.” Zoey shook her head.

My head and heart
were about to explode. Why did I feel like she was telling me I didn’t do the shit to her heart that she did to mine? Like I didn’t affect her life the way she ruled my universe? How would I respond to this young girl—who I’d involuntarily fallen in love with—telling me that I didn’t do it for her?

Zoey
extended her hand…her left hand and although it trembled, I could see the delicate line curving around her ring finger and when she turned her hand over I saw the cursive script of the letters
SR
, vertically, spanning from her palm line to the first knuckle line.

I looked at her and saw that her eyes were trained to the floor,
lids fluttering. I pulled her into a deep embrace and kissed her forehead adoringly. She quickly wrapped her arms around my waist. I then saw Zoey’s artist behind her smiling, understanding my approval. We got our new ink wrapped up and left for the house where we consummated our joint tattooing experience; her first and my best.

The next morning, I woke and reached for
Zoey in an empty side of the bed. My mouth was dry and head stiff. I brushed my face with my hands, trying to shake off the heaviness from last night. It wasn’t the alcohol that caused churning in my stomach. It was the crazy shit I did that I couldn’t take back. The crazy shit I did well after getting an impromptu tattoo. Suddenly recalling the tattoo experience, I got up to search for her. I’d hoped that wasn’t a drunken decision that she awakened to.

I noticed the patio door was open. When I stepped into the door frame, I saw
Zoey sitting on the step leading to the pool with a sheet hanging loosely from her delicious body, displaying her feminine curves. Zoey looked picture perfect. I caught her as she studied the subtle ink on her ring finger. My stomach turned again. I would hate myself if she regretted that decision, that notion. But before I could get nauseous from feeling disgusted with myself, Zoey lifted her hand to her face and kissed the inside of her palm where my initials were inscribed. Her shoulders lifted as she did and she sighed, seemingly satisfied.
My Niña.
I felt a relieving sensation run through me, but it couldn’t rival the guilt still coursing my veins.

What the fuck did I do?
I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“You have any regrets?” I asked, my voice raspy.

Zoey
turned her head in the direction of my voice, but not completely to look at me. There was a small pause before she shook her head.

“Not an ounce,” she damn near whispered convincingly.

Zoey sat there contented.
Unassuming.
She was still feeling that
euphoria that she may never live again
as she put it at the racing lot. And what the fuck was I doing? Was
I
regretting extending my euphoria past this week-long vacation? She was unbelievably beautiful and sexy sitting there, enjoying the view. Zoey was young, but strong and secure in her skin. She was bold, fierce, and unpredictable at times, but stable.

I moved quickly and quietly to get my phone. I had to capture that moment. I didn’t know what shit storm was ahead, I needed memorabilia of this
stretch in time
. I returned to the doorway and snapped a few pix, being sure to get a good one. I wanted to always remember her this peaceful, this happy. With me.