Seasons (27 page)

“Much.” I smile.

Chris picks me up and puts me on the counter, facing him. Scooting in between my legs, he reaches over to grab a spoon and scoops some custard onto it. He acts like he’s going to feed me, but at the last second, he pulls back and devours it with a groan. “This is so good. You should really have some,” he teases.

“I plan to,” I say mischievously. I grab a hold of his belt buckle and rip it open. He looks at me with a smirk. His hands are full so there is nothing he can do. I pull his belt out of his pants in one swift move and drop it to the floor. While he continues to eat his crème brûlée, I unbutton his shirt and then his pants, dropping them around his ankles so he’s just in his black boxer briefs. Next, I hike up my skirt so he can see my lace panties that match the thigh highs.

“Are these new?”

“I may have purchased them for tonight. It’s sort of a special one.”

“It is,” he says running a finger down the front of my new panties right in between my folds.

We both finally give in, and he kisses me hard at the same time sliding over the bit of fabric separating us and slipping inside me. He rubs the wetness over me while at the same time dropping his boxer briefs. Pulling back from me panting, he pulls my chin up so we’re eye to eye. He grabs my behind, scooting me to the edge of the countertop. Positioning himself at my opening, never once breaking eye contact, he sinks into me agonizingly slow. “I love you, Brynn. You are and will always be my dream girl. You are my reason to breathe, my entire world, my life,” he says as he slowly enters me. He wipes a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb. “As long as I’m alive, I promise you my love, my support, and my loyalty for better or worse, in sickness and health. You own my heart and all the rest of me. I will love you until my very last breath and even in death, I know we shall not part,” he says, brushing my cheek.

“Because love conquers all.” I finish his vows for him. Every year on our anniversary, he repeats them to me, and I tear up every single time. “Show me how much you love me,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck so that are bodies are now completely entwined. I kiss him with a passion that has never faltered. In moments like this, we’re as close to being one person as possible, one body, one heart.

Seven years earlier…

“Yes, Mom. School is going good, really good actually. Classes are demanding as ever, but you know me.” I pause and put my hand over my phone. “Table for one please, just a minute, I’m sorry,” I tell the host, at my favorite little studying diner holding up a finger with an apologetic look before returning to my phone call. “I’m at a diner right now trying to study. I know, Mom. Okay, I will. Love you, too. See you then.” I hit end on my cell and throw it back into my bag. When I turn to walk back up to the host stand a few feet away, the hostess is standing there waiting and next to her is a guy with a white coat on. Not just any guy either—the single most beautiful being I have ever laid my eyes on. He’s smiling at me. Why is he smiling at me?

“Right this way, miss,” the hostess begins to say.

“Kelly, I’ll show her to her table,” he says taking the menu from her. “What number?”

“Five,” she says smiling sweetly at him before turning to me with a back off glare. Whoa, calm down honey.

“Right this way.” He puts his arm out urging me to go first.

“Oh, all right.” I walk down the aisle and stop when he says, “Right here, miss.”

“Thank you.” I offer a smile and slide into a booth to set up for a night of studying.

He reaches over to hand me a menu and locks eyes with me. Not letting go of the menu, he tells me tonight’s specials. I can’t look away from him when he’s talking. It’s like I’m entranced in his unique eyes. He finally releases the menu into my hands. “Enjoy your meal.” The mystery hottie in the chef coat takes his leave and I can’t help but watch him walk away. His pants are black and tight and he has the most perfect bubble butt there ever was. He walks tall and confident with a bit of a basketball player swagger. His shoulders are broad and I bet he’s strong. Calm down, Brynn, you’re here to study. Focus on the books.

Dessert, about a pot of coffee and a few hours later I have studied all I can for my test the next day. After paying, I pack my bag, and I’m walking out the front door when I hear, “Hey, wait!” I turn to look thinking whoever it is can’t possibly be talking to me. I just about fall over when I realize that it’s the cook from earlier, and he’s calling after me. I stand stock still waiting for him to say something else, give a reason for stopping me. Instead, he just stares at me.

“Can I help you?” I try for polite, but it comes out squeaky and ridiculous.

“You come in here a lot?”

“Yeah…”

“Alone?”

“Okay,” I laugh but I’m slightly annoyed now that he felt the need to point out I’m alone. “I like to study here.”

“You always get dessert. Do you eat any real food? I mean…shit. Can I take you out for real food sometime? To dinner? Would you like to go to dinner sometime, with me?”

He’s
nervous? Has he looked in a mirror? Sheesh, the hostess just about clawed my eyes out earlier just for him offering to seat me. “How do you know I always order dessert?” I avoid the date question.

“I’m the head chef and kitchen manager here. I know what goes out to what tables.”

“Oh, right.”

“So, what time can I pick you up for dinner tomorrow night?” He grins, going right for the kill.

“I don’t…date. I’m sorry.” Part of me wants to get away from him as fast as possible, and the other half of me wants to lick him. He has this natural sun kissed look to his skin and I swear he glows. Although it might just be a sheen from working—either way he’s edible.

“What? Just like that? No?”

“Just like that. Sorry. I don’t have time to date.”

“So what do you do?” he asks skeptically.

“Study. Look, I don’t even know your name. For all I know…”

“Chris,” he interrupts my rant.

“What?”

“Chris Madden. That’s my name,” he says offering a hand to shake. “And you are?”

“Brynn,” I say and take his hand against my better judgment.

“Do you have a last name Brynn?”

“Carsten, but look…”

“You are a hard worker. Always have your nose in a book. You are a sweet girl who is close with her mom. FYI, I’m not a creep. I heard you on the phone earlier when you came in. You workout because, let’s face it, someone who eats chocolate cake here regularly and still has your killer body must workout. You have the most gorgeous, and yet sad eyes I have ever seen. I may not know you, Brynn Carsten, but I know enough to know I want to know more. I want to know what makes that beautiful face so sad and how to make you smile.”

By the time he finishes his spiel, my eyes are clouding with tears. The past three years have been filled with studying, partying with Mel and one-night stands. I work hard and find a random at the end of long drunk nights. I always go to their place and I never give my number out. The last thing I want is another relationship. “I…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says with sad eyes. “This isn’t going very well, is it?”

“No, it’s not you. I’m sorry. You are very sweet but I just…I can’t,” I say shaking my head. “I’m sorry.” I offer a small smile before I rush out of the restaurant feeling awful for leaving him there just hanging out in the open. He seems so sweet, but I just can’t do this again. Trust someone? Give my heart to someone? No thank you. How things are now works for me just fine.

Friday afternoon, I walk into my apartment and toss my stuff on the floor next to the door. “Mel? You home?” I say throwing myself down on the couch.

Mel comes out of the room. “How was your test? Like I need to ask?”

Melanie and I have shared an apartment for the past three years. It worked out that she finished design school when I started grad school in New York, so she needed a roommate. We have a small two-bedroom apartment in the city, located close to her job and my school. “It went well, I think. I’m exhausted though. I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Good, you’ll need the energy for tonight.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Dancing!”

“Why are you smiling like a loon? We go to clubs all the time.”

“We’re going salsa dancing!”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t be a poop. It’ll be fun. And I’m sure there will be some hot Latin men there,” she squeals.

“Your vagina is going to turn black and fall off one day.”

“Go take a nap. You’re an ugly cow when you’re crabby.”

*   *   *

We arrive at Olé, a new Latin dance club, in time for a drink before the free salsa lesson. The instructor is tall, dark, and lean with light eyes. The girls there for the class are drooling over him. He asks for a volunteer to be his partner for a demonstration and every hand shoots up, except mine. So, whom does he choose? Of course, he chooses me, fabulous. With a half-smile, half-scowl, I walk over to him and take the hand he’s offering. He spins me before pulling me back flush against his body with his knee between my legs. He runs his hand down my body and dips me half way back before doing an around the world type move with me until I’m standing back facing him.

“Latin dance is like making love,” he says to the class. “When you dance salsa, dance with passion. Make love on the dance floor,” he says rolling his hips with mine. “Now the other part to salsa dancing is the steps.” He shows me a little number and I follow as best I can. The music makes it easy to follow. “Very good.” He thanks me when the song concludes. “Now, everyone find a partner and we will all try.”

Mel and I dance together and when the class ends, everyone scatters into the club’s larger room. Melanie and I dance the night away with various men. When it’s getting late, I’m about to tell her I’m ready to go when the instructor from earlier cuts in. “Of all the women I have danced with tonight, you follow my rhythm the best.” He speaks into my ear so I can hear him over the music.

“Thanks?” I’m quite a few drinks in at this point and dancing with him rubbing in all the right places gets to me.

A couple songs later, he leans in, “Why don’t we get out of here? Have a night cap somewhere?”

I let Melanie know I’m leaving with the dance instructor, which of course she encourages because she’s Mel. We get in a cab. “Where do you live?” he asks in his thick accent.

“Oh, no, no, no, let’s go to your place.”

He gives the driver his address and then rests his hand on my thigh. It must be the alcohol because I don’t refuse when he dives his hand under my skirt and kisses me the rest of the way to his place. I couldn’t even tell you what his place looks like. We throw clothes while we head to his bedroom attached to each other.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, a sad face runs through my mind and it’s like a bucket of cold water. Shit. I don’t even know him. Why am I thinking of the cook from the diner when I’m trying to get it on with a sexy Latin dancer? I put my hands up and push him back. “I’m so sorry! I just remembered something I have to do!” I say scampering around his place picking up and putting my clothes back on.

“What is so important that you have to go do it right this second?”

“Er…I um. I forgot to feed my goldfish! It was fun, have a good night!” I say grabbing my purse and making a beeline for the door.

On the cab ride home, all I can think is
what the hell is wrong with me?
Why did I just skip a no strings attached orgasm? For some guy I don’t even know and likely will never see again? I’m so messed up.

I’m in bed for about thirty seconds when I hear the first moan coming from next door. Crap, Melanie thought I was out with sexy Latin dancer, so she’s letting it all out, not knowing they aren’t alone. That’s what I get for doing the right thing and coming home instead of sleeping with a stranger. No good deed goes unpunished.

*   *   *

Pulling myself up off the bloody bathroom floor, I step into the shower. Suddenly, I’m outside and rain is pouring down on me. I try to run away to get out of the rain but can’t. I see a hand coming at me in slow motion. “Stop!” I scream, but it’s only in my head. I’m paralyzed in fear and I can’t scream. His fist crashes into my face and I fall.

“Stop, stop,” I scream out loud as I fall and wake up startled. I’m soaked in sweat and shaking. It doesn’t happen very often anymore, but I still have nightmares about Mitch once in a while. It’s one of the reasons I don’t do sleepovers, only one-night stands, or booty calls. No strings attached.

It has worked for me for three years now. I’m not sure why the nightmares still come at all. Keeping in touch with Jen here and there, I have found out that Mitch has moved on to his next prey. Most ex-girlfriends would feel a pang of jealousy at the thought of their ex finding someone new, but all I felt was relief. If I’m being honest, I also feel guilt. He should be in jail, not ruining someone else’s life. The relief definitely overrides the guilt, though. At least he hasn’t come after me, and I have tried to put it all behind me. I can’t bring myself to get involved with anyone, but I’m almost done with school. I’ve worked my butt off and have a great internship with a law firm lined up. I think I figure if I just keep going, keep working hard, keeping living, one day I won’t have to try so hard to breathe.