“Do you know what you do to me?” he asks and my mouth falls open, wanting his lips on mine again. Begging the universe for it.

  My mind drew a blank.

  Words didn’t come.

  “What do I do?” I somehow manage to eke out.

  He leans in closer, running his thumb along the outline of my jaw, across my lower lip, and back up my cheek.

  “You make everything stop.”

  Before I can even think about what his words mean, he slants his lips across mine. It is a tender, yet intense kiss. As if that could ever be a thing. But, it was. It was everything a kiss should be.

  Deep, intense, lust-ridden, and most of all a kiss shared between us. Us. Two people who didn’t know anything about each other but perhaps how to make each other feel good.

  His tongue traces along mine as a groan rumbles in his throat. I cling tighter to him. I didn’t ever want him to let me go. Ever. I wanted more.

  I wanted to know more about him.

  I wanted him to open up to me.

  I wanted quiet days with him and sexy nights.

  These were frightening thoughts though. I shouldn’t feel like this. I’ve never felt like this before. With anyone.

  I’ve never wanted more with anyone.

  But, with Cesar, it was all I could think about. It was all I wanted. Everything with him. I wanted it so bad, I couldn’t think about anything else.

  My heart bangs and booms in my ears.

  But, Cesar didn’t hear it. He only pulls me closer, his hard chest pressing against me.

  Then he breaks the kiss in a flash almost violently pushing me away.

  He grabs at his hair with both hands, tugging, and pulling at the ends--making each strand stand on end in the most intense way.

  It’s so obvious now. He’s at war with himself. And I have zero idea on how to help him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cesar’s eyes are on fire as he stares at me. His breathing matches mine: hard, ragged, loud. I raise my hand to my lips, feeling the fullness of them from his kiss. Missing the heat of his touch.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasps out.

  He’s sorry for what? The kiss? All I can think about is how badly I want him to do it again over and over until we both fall into each other. Molding and melding into each other for the rest of the night.

  “For what?”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  And then my mind does what every girl’s mind often does when they can’t think straight. When all they can think about is “saving” the man they are falling for. I start planning out a life together. Him in a suit, me making him breakfast and a kiss before sending him off to whatever job he does.

  Then it hits me.

  As much as Cesar may want me physically, he doesn’t really want me. If he did, he would tell me about his life. He would tell me about his present and his past and he would want to know about mine. These things would be easy between us. Not hard. That’s what’s missing between us. Sure, we’ve shared ourselves physically, but we haven’t been vulnerable with each other at all. Maybe someone who lives so much in the moment like him can’t be vulnerable. Maybe he’s just not capable of it.

  “Talk to me,” I tell him, wanting more than anything to know the truth. I beg for it with my eyes, and every beat of my heart. “Just tell me one thing.”

  His face grows solemn, and I can tell by the way he is hesitating that he doesn’t want to continue. I grab his hand in mine and offer him an encouraging smile. This could very well me my last chance in getting something meaningful from him before I give up.

  “I was in the military…fuck, no, I fought hard for my country. I was in a special unit that did shit other men didn’t want to do, but I saw things no one should ever see. I experienced things no man should ever have to experience.”

  I scoot closer as he continues, “After my time overseas, I left the military and now I don’t know. After I left, I came home, and everyone expected me to just pick my life back up where I left it. To go back to normal. But, how could I? I didn’t even know what normal was anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.” I was at a loss for words and tried my hardest to offer up some profound words of wisdom. But, let’s face it…I know nothing of what these brave women and men have to do day in and day out to ensure our freedom.

  He draws in a breath before he continues, “When I came home, I made a couple of mistakes. Got in a few fights. Drove to fast. Drank too much. Partied too hard. My mother would stop by the house daily to check in on me to make sure I was still alive. It was driving me insane. She figured I needed to talk with someone, and set up an appointment with a psychiatrist. I was furious, with her, with myself. I was just so angry. I got the job at the club because I thought it’d be the best place to continue my self-destructive behavior and get paid for it. Then I stopped going home.”

  Again, at a loss for words, I just nodded. This is not the story I was expecting.

  “Then it wasn’t long until I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Like anything, I became a shell. Just kind of going through the motions. I kept sleeping with women to reignite something inside of myself, but it was just sex. I was still a shell. Do you know what that’s like, Janelle?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Or maybe I did, I mean it wasn’t like my life was all glam and glitter. I was a barmaid, and going nowhere. I felt things, but lately, it felt more like all I ever felt was anger. Why was I always so angry?

  I spoke up before he could respond, “Actually, I haven’t felt anything in a long time either, well except for anger.”

  “Why are you so angry?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper.

  Cesar’s eyes met mine and he leans in to grab my cheek with his hand.

  “Janelle, for some reason you are the first person to make me feel, again.” His lips met mine, and I couldn’t think straight.

  My heart opens, and I want to feel again too. All of my life I couldn’t understand how I got to this point. A few weeks ago, I wanted more than anything to leave New York, thinking it was the city’s fault as to why I was always angry. But, no it was me.

  “Cesar, I want to feel you now,” I mutter.

  Cesar’s eyes hold mine as he presses his lips to mine again. He picks my body up off the couch and carries me off to my bedroom for one of the most intense lovemaking sessions ever. I’d tell you all about it, but it was personal.

  Just me and him, together.

  Our first time being vulnerable.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A week later Cesar and I were off work and a bunch of my friends from high school decided to go to a nightclub for the holiday, so we decided to hang with them. I was excited because it would be fun to catch up with some of my old friends, plus it would be a great opportunity to show off Cesar. I was falling for him harder and harder each day.

  Once inside the very posh nightclub they chose in Midtown Manhattan, we head to the bar for some drinks. I was drinking my second margarita, catching up with my friend Ben, and Cesar was watching me over the rim of his beer, making me feel uncomfortable. Maybe he was jealous. I don’t know, but I thought he had a lot of nerve considering all the attention he always gives and receives from the opposite sex. I needed a break from the intensity, so I grab some of my friend’s hands (Molly and Jen) and we make our way to the dance floor.

  “Come on,” I yell over the music. “Let’s dance like we used to back in the day.”

  We find a spot near the edge, and I let the music take me away. I close my eyes and dance.

  The beat is fast, the tempo good, and I sway my body back and forth. The club is packed being that it’s a Friday night over a holiday weekend, and I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around me from behind. I smile for a moment, thinking Cesar has finally come to his senses, but I turn around and gaze into a pair of drunken green eyes whose owner is standing a bit too close for my liking.

  “Wanna dance?” the man reeking of beer and stale cigarettes asks.

  “No thanks.” I push him aside and wiggle my way back over to my friends.

  “Ah, just one dance.” He wasn’t giving up, and I grew frustrated.

  The club was dark with flashing strobe lights, and I try to scoot further away but stop when I feel a solid body behind me. Panic races through me until I see and feel Cesar’s tattooed arm wrap around my waist.

  “She’s with me,” he says to the man standing there, gaping at me.

  The drunken man stalks away, mumbling under his breath. I don’t move, and Cesar’s arm is still wrapped safely around my waist.

  “Dance with me, Jay,” he softly orders.

  The beat picks up, but our bodies move slowly to the music. Grinding to the rhythm, his hands cascade down my body landing on my hips. His erection presses against my ass, making me feel extra excited. He was turning me on. I didn’t want this night to end. I wanted to stay here in his arms forever.

  My eyes squeeze shut as his hands moved further south, rubbing along my thighs, hips, and ass. His hands were strong, virile, and created tiny tingles that skyrocketed through my system. Our fingers interlaced, and I wanted to help him find the parts of my body which needed his touch the most.

  “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers in my ear. “No wonder every asshole in here wants you.”

  My eyes open and I turn my head, glancing back at him over my shoulder. His hand reaches up to turn my head just a little more as he presses his lips to mine. My body yearns for it, needing his lips to claim me. He spins me in his arms, facing me toward him as he deepens the kiss. The room spins, the music disappears or gets louder, I couldn’t tell. All I know was this moment would forever be etched into my memory. It was sexy as hell.

  His tongue traces along mine, massaging, tickling me. Both my hands were splayed across his chest as he clings to me as if I was the only person in the world for him. The only person who can satisfy his longing, his desire for me. Did he feel the same way as me?

  I didn’t know how long we stayed like this in the middle of the dance floor, kissing each other passionately but finally, I broke the kiss, gazing into his wide eyes.

  “We need to stop. We’re in a public place.”

  Afraid of my own emotions and desires towards Cesar, I walk away from him and leave him standing in the middle of the dance floor. By the time we make it back to my place, we can’t keep our hands off one another.

  “I need you,” I tell him.

  He kisses my neck as I unbutton his shirt. He stands from the bed, removing his shirt showing me his chest which is chiseled to perfection. His tattoos travel along his shoulders and down both arms and know that I know some of their origins, I will study them for a lifetime if I can. They were beautiful works of art. And so was he. I wanted him and I wanted him badly.

  He removes his pants and boxers. Then, he starts at my ankles, running his tongue up my legs, along the inside of my thigh as I moan loudly. So close to my center, a heat travels along my skin. Igniting every nerve he touches with his tongue as I grab at the sheets. Lowering my panties down my legs, he brings his mouth back up to my warm center. God, he feels so good.

  “You were fucking with me tonight, Jay.”

  “What?”

  He continues licking and sucking at my clit in between words.

  “Chatting it up with that dude. On the dance floor putting on a show for every man in there. I didn’t like it.”

  “No different than when you perform for the ladies at the club all night, every night.”

  “That’s for tips.”

  He bites gently down on my clit and I buck my hips off the bed. His hands wrap around, grabbing my ass, squeezing it tight as he feasts on me.

  “Tips my ass,” I moan as my body temperature rises.

  The sensation is too much. Damn, he knows how to work me like he owns me. He knows he owns me, and I love it. I want him to own me in every way possible.

  He continues working his tongue along my wetness as I cry out for more, begging, pleading for him to make me reach my climax. His tongue enters me, and he slides it in and out as he presses his fingers along my clit, rubbing it in circles, pressing so hard. My hips buck again underneath him as I rise to new heights. Then he pulls back and slaps my pussy with a gentle wack.

  “Cesar!”

  My body collapses all around me, stars sting my vision as I call out his name. My orgasm hits me with a maddening impact, and I can’t regain control of my body. It shudders, shakes, and trembles as he climbs my body.

  “Watching you come is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, but tasting it is even better.”

  He sticks his tongue in my mouth, letting me taste myself on him. He releases the kiss, wrapping his arms around my body to remove my bra. It flies across the room as he sits back, taking in my breasts.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Janelle.”

  “So are you,” I say truthfully.

  His mouth encases my right breast, sucking on the pebbled nipple. My fingers dug into his back, needing him closer.

  “Cesar,” I moan.

  His hard-on presses along my thigh and I grab at it, running my hand up and down his shaft as he hisses my name. With me touching him, he loses focus as his lips hover over mine. His eyes roll back, his mouth hangs open, and his breathing becomes erratic.

  “Fuck, Janelle. I love…I love to be inside you. Turn over.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day, I ask Cesar about taking me to his place.

  “Just one tiny peek,” I say, fixing my hair in the mirror. “I want to meet your plants.”

  “It’s messy.” He smiles.

  “I don’t mind messy.”

  We clean up our breakfast from the kitchen and walk outside. The brisk air is cold against our skin as we hurry along to the subway platform.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask as I watch him quietly stare out the subway window.

  “Not nervous, just anxious.” His eyes shine as he speaks.

  I didn’t like that he felt anxious, or anything. I didn’t want to feel like I was making him do this. I want him to be comfortable to share his life with me. I wanted to talk about it some more but decided to keep quiet. Maybe another time. We have time to share, right? This isn’t ending anytime soon. I hoped.

  A little while later we are standing on a tree-lined Brooklyn street, in front of a large beautiful brownstone, and I gaze up at the many windows of his house. I have to admit. I’m surprised. It’s way nicer than I thought it would be. It’s definitely better than my tiny little place.

  “This place is really nice,” I say as he leads me up the stairs.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  It’s like he takes it all for granted. Like he isn’t pleased or proud of where he lives. Again, my mouth stays shut not questioning anything. Just happy to tag along.

  Happy that he’s at least let me into his apartment. I look around the place with a discerning eye. It’s clean as hell, you could eat off the floors, but not much life dwells here. Just a few hard to kill plants and random photos on the walls of nothing in particular. Is that a car in one? A sunset? There’s no people. No warmth.

  “It’s nice,” I say, moving closer to the gray sofa in the living room.

  “You want a tour?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The two of us sound too formal, but I can tell he is still nervous. I wondered why.

  He leads me around his stiff apartment. His master bedroom is all gray walls and white sheets. No real personality or anything. It’s surprising. At work Cesar is the life of the club. Always laughing. Always dancing. Telling jokes. Making people feel alive. But, here in his home, it was different. There wasn’t an ounce of the Cesar I know in this place.

  “It’s lovely but your place doesn’t really seem like you.” I poke at the little green spider plant on the windowsill of the kitchen.

  “It’s not. My mother decorated it for before I even got home from my last tour. She felt this was how I needed to live. She says this is the house of a grown-up.”

  “Oh.”

  A grown-up, right. Yeah, I didn’t think I fell into that category either. Yet, I was grown. She probably wouldn’t approve of my apartment with the aztec themed living room and the purple frilly comforter, and posters hanging around my bedroom. When did society enforce a grown-up standard? And since when was the official color grey?

  “Is that why you avoid it?”

  “This place isn’t me, so I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to change anything inside it because sometimes I don’t even know who the hell I am. I couldn’t even tell you what my favorite color is right now. So what would I buy? I guess I’m not ready to “grow up” and live in the real world.”

  I sit on the couch, and he sits next to me. “I know what you mean.”

  “Do you? I’m not sure, Jay. It’s like I’m damaged goods. Living life as I’m expected to live it is hard. I’ve seen too much.”

  “Well obviously I don’t get what you went through. You bravely served this country and did things to protect us that I will never know. That I should never know. But I do know what it’s like to be a disappointment to my family and to myself. My parents are always bugging me about college and getting my life on track. It’s probably why I still work at the club. I don’t want them dictating my next move. I want to make the move myself.”

  He scrubs a hand against his jaw. “Life is so fragile, Jay. I realized that overseas.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I had a friend Timothy. He was the youngest member of the team. Twenty. It was a big deal that he was selected. Some thought he was too young. He was from Illinois and he used to laugh a lot. At anything. You say a joke, he’d laugh. Even if it wasn’t funny.”

  “What happened to Timothy?”

  “He was killed in his very first assignment and that’s when I realized that life isn’t fair at all. Life is short. It can all be over in the blink of an eye. And then what are you left with? A life that didn’t mean shit.”

 

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