Lovin' Blue (18 page)
Authors: Zuri Day
35
Eden stood inside her walk-in closet and pondered her options. The Zen Den's dress was decidedly casual, yet, as director of the facility, Eden chose to maintain a somewhat professional appearance. Yesterday she'd worn a light blue, cotton pantsuit paired with low heels. Today she vacillated between a tan, wide-legged pantsuit and a silk wrap dress. She decided on the latter, wore her hair down and lightly turned under, and opted for open-toed sandals instead of pumps. She sprayed on a light, floral cologne, grabbed her briefcase and laptop, and was out the door. Her official hours were nine to five, but old habits died hard. When working on the Hill, Eden routinely arrived a half hour or more early for work. She pulled into the parking space leased by the Zen Den at 8:35.
A shiny black Prius pulled up right beside her SUV. Alex emerged from the vehicle, looking more like a
GQ
model than an MD. Instead of what Eden assumed were trademark black jeans, today he wore a casual black suit, the accompanying stark white shirt open at the collar, revealing olive skin deeply tanned by the sun. The dark aviator sunglasses and five-o'clock shadow on his chin gave him a roguish air.
He doesn't come close to Jansen,
Eden mused as he walked to open her car door.
But he does look good.
GQ
model than an MD. Instead of what Eden assumed were trademark black jeans, today he wore a casual black suit, the accompanying stark white shirt open at the collar, revealing olive skin deeply tanned by the sun. The dark aviator sunglasses and five-o'clock shadow on his chin gave him a roguish air.
He doesn't come close to Jansen,
Eden mused as he walked to open her car door.
But he does look good.
“Thank you and good morning,” Eden said, easing out of her car.
“An early bird, I see,” Alex answered. “Just like me.”
“This isn't something you should get used to, necessarily. But it's nice to feel on top of things while getting my feet wet.”
I'd like to get on top of you . . . and get wet.
“You look nice today, Eden. I like your hair down.”
“You look nice today, Eden. I like your hair down.”
“Yes, well, don't get used to this either, Dr. K. The ponytail/bun thing is more my style.”
“Please, call me Alex.” He unlocked the main door and then held it while Eden entered. “Are you a coffee or tea person?”
“Neither this morning. I had a protein smoothie before leaving home. But when I need a lift, I normally reach for green or chai tea.”
“I love Starbucks's soy chai lattes.”
“Me, too! And what about the new soy strawberry frappes?”
The two conversed easily until they reached the kitchen. Alex stepped inside, and Eden continued to her office. A few moments later, Alex knocked on her door. They spent the next half hour finishing up the fifteen-minute conversation from the previous night and sharing marketing strategies that would appeal to both mainstream and avante-garde audiences. Later Eden wouldn't remember how the fact that Alex was divorced, with a seventy-five-year-old mother whom he visited regularly in his native Greece, came up. When Ariel arrived, talk of favorite eateries led to the three of them deciding to dine at RFD. At the end of the day, when Alex suggested a glass of wine at Chaya, it seemed a logical conclusion to the end of a productive day.
There was the old saying “Time flies when you're having fun” and such was the case with Eden. She only became aware that it was seven-thirty PM, almost three hours past quitting time, when, amid a peal of laughter, she answered her phone. “Hello?”
“Well, it sounds like somebody is having a good time.”
Oh, shoot.
“Jansen, where are you?”
“Jansen, where are you?”
“Where I said I'd be about now. In front of your house.” Pause. “Where are you?”
“On my way. Just leaving work. See you in ten minutes.”
36
As she headed toward Santa Monica, Eden saw the thundercloud brewing beyond the mountains. It bore Jansen's face. She'd assumed he would phone her when he was on his way over. But when it came to men, experience should have taught her what happened when one assumed. Things ended badly.
I'm not going to participate in his attitude,
she silently affirmed.
Just do you, Eden. Peace and love. Just do you.
She saw Jansen's truck as soon as she pulled up to her condo, waved, and continued to the parking lot. She exited her car, came around to the front to let him in, and greeted him with a hug. “Sorry I'm late, baby. Time got away from me.”
she silently affirmed.
Just do you, Eden. Peace and love. Just do you.
She saw Jansen's truck as soon as she pulled up to her condo, waved, and continued to the parking lot. She exited her car, came around to the front to let him in, and greeted him with a hug. “Sorry I'm late, baby. Time got away from me.”
Jansen hugged her and then stepped away, doing a slow perusal from head to toe. “You look nice,” he said, his eyes narrowed, mind churning. “Real nice.”
“Thank you.” Eden's answer was as light as her step as she turned and walked toward the stairs.
“Smell good, too,” Jansen observed, along with the sway of Eden's booty-licious as she mounted the stairs in front of him.
Eden turned and gave him a killer smile. “All for you, baby.”
They reached her condo and went inside. Eden sat down her computer and briefcase and then turned to face Jansen. “You look good, too,” she whispered before raising up on her tiptoes and planting a juicy kiss on his succulent lips. When she would have ended it, he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the exchange. His fingers became lost in her hair, his free hand searching for bare flesh but instead coming in contact with soft silk. He eased his tongue out of her mouth, placed whispery kisses along her cheek and jawline, and then reached for her hand and walked them to the couch. “So . . . tell me about this job, love.”
Eden removed her shoes, plopped on the couch, and placed her feet underneath her. Her eyes sparkled with unabashed excitement as she leaned into Jansen's embrace. “Jansen, I think I'm going to
love
this job.”
love
this job.”
“That's good.”
Eden shared the basics of what her job entailed, as well as some of the characters who made up the Zen Den. “Instead of calling us staff, they refer to us as âcommunity members,' ” Eden said, using air quotes for emphasis. “Only my second day there, and it already feels like family. I can see myself growing with this company, baby. I submitted a very rough outline of my plans for the center to Alex, and he is just as excited as I am.”
Jansen had been idly rubbing Eden's arm, but at the mention of another man, his movement stopped. “Who's Alex?”
Don't go there with him, Eden. Remember, peace and love.
“Alex Kostopoulos, my boss, and the center's resident physician.”
“Alex Kostopoulos, my boss, and the center's resident physician.”
“Uh-huh. Is he the reason you dressed so sexy for your nine-to-five, and why you forgot there was another man waiting for you to come home?”
Eden sat straight and put distance between them. “Jansen, don't do this. Dr. K is my bossâ”
“Oh, so now he's Dr. K, when a second ago he was Alex. Y'all on a first-name basis already?”
“I am not going down this road with you.” Eden stood and walked out of the living room and into her bedroom.
“Why?” Jansen asked, following. “Is it because you've started down the road with somebody else?”
“Can you hear yourself?” In spite of her resolve to stay calm and peaceful, she felt her heartbeat increasing, her voice rising. “Obviously not, because if you could, you'd realize how stupid you sound.”
Jansen's volume rose as well. “Oh, so one day in the presence of the good doctor, and the policeman is stupid. Is that how it goes down?”
In seconds, calm and peaceful had a fight with pissed off, and lost. “Are you kidding me? Did you really say what I just heard?” Eden headed for the closet. “You're a piece of work, Jansen McKnight,” she continued from inside it, peeling off her dress and taking off her jewelry. “If all you came over here to do was piss me off, mission accomplished. I don't needâno, I won't
stand
for this drama in my life.” She marched out of her closet clad in panties and bra. “I don't know if this possessiveness is an alpha male or Scorpio or McKnight attribute, but it isn't cute. When I'm with someone, it's one at a time. I'm in a work environment where there are men. I interact with them, go to lunch with them, and, yes, share a glass of wine with them after work. I really like this job and plan to keep it. So if you have a problem with anything I just said, let's end this now and go our separate ways. I don't have the time or patience for your bullshit, Jansen McKnight.” Eden ended her tirade winded, fists clenched, chest heaving.
stand
for this drama in my life.” She marched out of her closet clad in panties and bra. “I don't know if this possessiveness is an alpha male or Scorpio or McKnight attribute, but it isn't cute. When I'm with someone, it's one at a time. I'm in a work environment where there are men. I interact with them, go to lunch with them, and, yes, share a glass of wine with them after work. I really like this job and plan to keep it. So if you have a problem with anything I just said, let's end this now and go our separate ways. I don't have the time or patience for your bullshit, Jansen McKnight.” Eden ended her tirade winded, fists clenched, chest heaving.
Jansen had endured this verbal assault with legs spread, arms crossed. Now he moved toward her with the stealth of a panther. “Oh, no?” he asked, his voice a deadly whisper. His eyes had darkened to an eerie black, and were it possible for his shoulders to become broader, chest to become wider, and legs to become longer . . . they had done so. Eden took a step back as he continued his approach, but he stayed her with a sure, strong hand. “So you don't have time for my bullshit, huh? Well, do you have time for this?”
With a singular movement, Jansen both closed the two feet between them and wrapped her in his arms. His mouth came down on hers: hard, heavy, demanding, relentless. Eden's impulse was to fight him, and she briefly tried to wriggle out of his arms. But then instinct took overânoted the hardness of his muscled chest, the sinewy strength of his toned biceps, the hardening shaft announcing its intent. Jansen's hands lowered, sculpted themselves to her cheeks, and pressed her firmly against him. Her nipples pebbled with excitement, the familiar tingling spreading from her core to the apex at her thighs.
“Jansen.” The whispered name held urgency and understanding.
“Baby,” he answered, his hands roaming over as much flesh as they could reach. He slipped fingers inside her lacy thong, found her treasure, rubbed her to wetness. “This is mine, girl. Anybody out there trying to get at it . . .” Jansen dropped to his knees and pressed his face into the furnace of her desire. His tongue was rough and strong, the fabric between it and its goal causing a delicious friction.
“Mmmm,” Eden breathed but could say no more.
Still on his knees, Jansen backed her up, pinned her against the wall. He spread her legs and reclaimed the territory his mouth had known just seconds before. Eden's thighs trembled; she grabbed on to Jansen's shoulders for support. He placed a strong hand under her thigh and lifted her leg. She felt vulnerable, totally exposed, and excited beyond belief. Jansen nipped and kissed the insides of her thighs before moving aside the lace with his tongue. Eden emitted a shout when his soft, wet oral instrument made contact with her budding flower. Remnants of Kory's song ran through Eden's mind as she succumbed to the mind-numbing pleasure of Jansen's magical tongue on her pulsating paradise. He licked, sucked, kissed, tugged. She went crazy, stroke by stroke. Just as she felt the rumblings of a cataclysmic climax, Jansen stopped. Eden's legs buckled, and she slid to the floor.
Jansen reached into his shorts pocket and then hurriedly shed both them and the white tee he wore, sans underwear. His sword stood at attention, ready for battle. He handed the condom to Eden. “Put it on,” he quietly commanded.
Eden complied. In a moment of sheer wantonness, she ripped the thin rubber from its plastic encasement and edged it up his shaft with her mouth. Jansen grabbed the back of her head, moaning her name over and again. The moment she'd shielded him completely, he dropped down, covered her, and took her right there on the bedroom floor. It was raw and nasty and sexy and beautifulâJansen and Eden dancing the dance to the song they knew best, the tune they grooved to most perfectly. For twenty, thirty minutes, they remained lost in its melody. But every song has an ending, and theirs was no different. Eden cried out her release. Jansen growled his agreement. They lay sweaty and spent atop the Persian rug that covered the area around Eden's bed, the silence punctuated only by their breathing.
Eden prepared to rise, but Jansen stopped her. “I couldn't wait to be here, feel you in my arms.”
“I'm uncomfortable, Jansen,” Eden answered.
And it has nothing to do with our being on the floor.
And it has nothing to do with our being on the floor.
“Oh, I'm sorry, baby.” Jansen hurriedly rose, bringing Eden with him. Again he reached to place his arms around her.
“Baby, let me use the bathroom. I'll be right back.”
Eden hurried into the room and closed the door. She ran cold water, splashed her face, and looked in the mirror. A troubled expression looked back at her. As always, Jansen had loved her ferociously and tenderly at the same time. She'd experienced multiple orgasms, screaming, so intense was the pleasure.
Then what is wrong, Eden?
She gazed at her reflection.
Why don't you feel good now?
Then what is wrong, Eden?
She gazed at her reflection.
Why don't you feel good now?
As Eden soaped her towel and washed herself, the answers came. And then one final question.
What are you going to do about it?
What are you going to do about it?
37
“Jansen, we need to talk.” Eden had walked out of the bathroom, gone straight to the closet, and donned her favorite fluffy cotton robe before she spoke. Now she stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on the perfection that lounged across her bed in black boxers.
“Come here, baby,” Jansen whispered.
“I prefer the living room.” Eden walked out without waiting for an answer. She went into the kitchen, put on water for tea, and tried to calm her suddenly jittery nerves. She knew where this reaction was coming from and was determined to push past the fear. She took a breath, squared her shoulders, and walked into the living room, or lion's den, depending on one's point of view.
Jansen eyed her as she walked in. He sat stone-faced, arms crossed, his black T-shirt and jeans adding to his dark countenance. Eden opted for the chair instead of the couch where he sat. She sat down, looked at him, looked at the floral arrangement on her side table. For a while, neither spoke.
“What's wrong with you?” Jansen finally asked.
“I . . . need to share some things with you. How I'm feeling.”
“About what?”
“Jansen, please don't get defensive. As simple as sharing one's thoughts may seem, this isn't easy for me. But if we're going to be together, I've got to do it.”
“If? What's this about, Eden?” Jansen's eyes narrowed. “Does it have anything to do with this Alex dude you mentioned earlier?”
“Why would you think that? What I'm sharing involves only the people in this room.”
“Oh, really? Well, excuse me if I draw a line between your hanging out with this boss you just met and our suddenly having problems.” Jansen's body was taut, his look intense.
The discomfort that Eden had felt in the bathroom returned.
I can't do this.
“Jansen, I . . .” A whistling tea kettle interrupted her. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
I can't do this.
“Jansen, I . . .” A whistling tea kettle interrupted her. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Jansen shook his head. “No, I'm cool.” His demeanor suggested he was anything but.
Eden went into the kitchen and used her nightly ritual to try to relax. She placed the loose-leaf tea into the infuser, sat the mesh holder into the ceramic teapot that was a gift from her mother, and poured in the water. After slicing a lemon and pouring a liberal amount of honey into a mug, she placed it and the teapot on a tray and walked back into the living room.
You could cut the tension with a knife. Eden ignored it, continued her deep breathing and her ritual. She placed two lemon slices in the mug. As she swirled the infuser, a citrusy lavender aroma reached her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, poured the tea into her mug, and took a tentative sip. Jansen watched her every moment. Silent. Waiting.
Eden took another sip before placing the mug on the table beside her. “Remember how you and Michael used to protect me from the bullies? How I'd ask the teacher if I could leave class early, rather than risk meeting someone who'd threatened to fight me after school? I never liked confrontation, Jansen, ran from it as much as I could.” She looked at him as she took another sip of tea. His face was still stony, but he'd uncrossed his arms.
“While married, I did the same thing, though not at first. When we first got married, Gregg and I discussed things, gave our points of view, and came to a mutual agreementâeven if that was an agreement to disagree. But like I told you before, Gregg changed. Or maybe he became more of who he really was, who knows? But the bottom line is, he stopped caring about how I felt or what I had to say. Voicing my opinion became the sure precursor for an argument, or worse. One of the things I've learned on this spiritual journey back to myself is that I have to live in my truth, no matter what. I have to share my feelings with those who matter to me.” Eden stopped, met Jansen's gaze.
Jansen broke the stare, stood, and walked to the window. He stood there only seconds, but to Eden, it felt as if an hour went by. When he turned around, both his demeanor and voice were subdued. “So who am I reminding you of right now? Your monster husband, or the school bully?”
“What you're reminding me of is how important it is to communicate calmly, rationally, the way we're doing right now. You're nothing like my ex-husband, Jansen, and you've either bullied or pestered me half my life, so that's nothing new.” Eden offered a soft smile. Jansen caught it and shared one of his own.
“You're possessive by nature, and a part of me likes that. It makes me feel needed, protected even. But I can also see where it could cause problems. I haven't been on the job a week, and already you're questioning me about my boss. Your accusatory tone both earlier and moments ago doesn't make me feel good. If every interaction I have with another male is questioned, trust is not at the foundation of our love.”
“So you love me.”
Pause. One second, two. “Yes, Jansen. I do.”
“Come here.” He reached for Eden's hand, and this time she took it. He led them back over to the couch. He sat down, and she sat down close to him, facing him. Jansen continued to hold her hand as he looked at her. Then he looked away.
“What is it, baby? What are you thinking?”
Pause. Three seconds, four. “I'm not one for much talking. With me, action speaks louder than words.”
“Brooding, deliberate, not one for showing your emotions. . . .”
Jansen raised a brow in Eden's direction.
“Traits of a Scorpio.”
“Baby, you'd have to read more than a zodiac sign to figure me out.”
“No doubt. But you do have many of its characteristics, especially the good ones.”
Jansen's skepticism remained, but now interest accompanied it. “What are those?”
“Loyal, intelligent, passionate to the
extreme!
”
extreme!
”
Jansen performed a sideways once-over and drawled, “I take it that's not a problem.”
Eden punched him playfully. “You take correctly.” A moment of companionable silence passed between them. Eden breathed slow, her heartbeat steady. She felt her hand in Jansen's and imagined many evenings like this.
“You're right about me being loyal,” Jansen finally said. “Which is probably why I'm possessive, if that's what you want to call it. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, too, because when I'm with a woman, she belongs to meânobody else. And I'm hers.” Jansen looked fully at Eden. “That's just how it is.”
Many comments warred for dominance in Eden's mind: the fact that women were people, not possessions. That she was almost twenty years past legally grown, and her father's name wasn't Jansen. That loyalty had obviously gone on vacation when he'd cheated on his ex-wife. But she chose to choose her battles in order to win the war. She loved Jansen and wanted to be with him. She believed in her heart that possessive, demanding proclivities aside . . . he was a good man. Staying focused on the goal of this conversation, mutual understanding, she asked, “What about trust?”
“What about it?”
“Do you trust me, Jansen?”
Pause. Five seconds, ten, twenty . . .
“Well, do you?”
“Men aren't so different from women, you know. We don't want to get hurt either.”
“I remember a conversation where you told me you'd always keep it one hundred with me. . . .”
“I believe the exact phrase is one hun-ned.”
“However it's said, it meant you'll be truthful with me. And I'll do the same. I've never been one to date around or play the field, Jansen. I'm not interested in starting now.”
“Good.” Jansen reached for her. “Now can we stop talking and let our bodies conversate?”
Eden didn't resist when he placed his arm around her, tilted her chin, and engaged them in a deep, languid kiss. When he moved aside her terry-cloth robe and gently tweaked her nipple, she welcomed the move. Jansen was like a drug her body needed on a regular basis. She'd always enjoyed intercourse, but with Jansen, she couldn't get enough. So when he undid the belt and placed his hand between her legs, she opened to welcome him. She skimmed the band on his shorts, reached her hand inside, and found hard, throbbing flesh.
Mine,
she thought with mild surprise. And then she thought of something elseâthe other topic she'd planned to discuss with him. But when he eased off the couch and down on his knees, pulling her forward while spreading her wide and then dipping his head to her nether lips, Eden's mind zeroed in on one thing: pleasure. There would be time later for further discussion. Right now Jansen's tongue was talking to her, and she was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.
Mine,
she thought with mild surprise. And then she thought of something elseâthe other topic she'd planned to discuss with him. But when he eased off the couch and down on his knees, pulling her forward while spreading her wide and then dipping his head to her nether lips, Eden's mind zeroed in on one thing: pleasure. There would be time later for further discussion. Right now Jansen's tongue was talking to her, and she was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.
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