Add Spice to Taste (14 page)

“I
. . . hope . . . um, that . . . I . . . ”

She
reached across the table and gripped my hand. Her fingers were slightly greasy from the mayo and bacon and I rubbed my thumb across them, almost absent-mindedly, almost as if I were rubbing lotion into her skin.

“It’s okay,” she said.
“I can be hardheaded. I guess I get that from my grandfather.” I looked up at her and her eyes were soft and gentle, and I was humbled. How could someone as kind and caring as Julianna tolerate someone like me for very long? I was her opposite in almost every way. Sure, I was nice, but I was also snarky, suspicious, a bit selfish, and jaded.

In the
delicate, earnest face of this woman, in the feel of her mayo-slicked hand, my helplessness and desolation began to wash away. The closed, dusty doors that were all I had seen down the road looked like they were cracking open.

She pulled her hand away and I wanted to grab it back but I thought I should probably let her eat her sandwich.

Her face brightened and she hungrily polished off one half of her sandwich. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, and took a sip of her tea. “Tell me, is there room for one more in your root vegetable class?”

I was halfway through my soup, enjoying it way more than I’d enjoyed any meal in a while. “Oh, you saw the catalog?”

“Of course. I had to see what you were going to be doing. And, hopefully, there won’t be any pretty women in that class.”

I looked up to find a
smug little expression on her face as she picked up the other half of her sandwich. She was torturing me and loving it. And I had no right to stop her.

“You mean besides you?”

She continued smiling and took a sip of tea.

It didn’t take us long to finish up the rest of our meal, filling the spaces with light chitchat. I told her about the menus I was planning for classes, and she told me about her ideas for
moving her documentary forward. Then I remembered something that had been stalled in the back of my mind.

“Hey, I’ve been wondering
about something and I could never remember to ask you about it.”

“What?”

“The first day of class, at lunchtime, I happened to see you talking to Sasha. You know, the woman at the front desk? I’m really curious. What were you talking to her about?”

Julianna nodded, a knowing little
grin gracing her face. “I was asking her about you. I wanted to know what your story was.”

A little trickle of pleasure went down my chest to my core.
Even though weeks had gone by, it felt good to know that someone had a crush on me. By now, I hoped it was way more than a crush. “And why did you want to know what my story was?” I asked coyly.

She giggled but cut it short, changing to a more flirtatious tone. “When I first walked in, you were honing your knife. I thought it was really hot. It turned me on.”

Oh, man. I had never wanted anyone like this and the fact that she wanted me, too, was the best aphrodisiac in the world.

When we had
both given our mouths a final swipe with our napkins, Julianna said, “Wanna go to my place?”

Be alone again with Julianna? Nothing could have made me happier. “
Definitely. Let’s go.” I picked up the check that the server had placed on the table while we were still eating and brought it to the cash register by the entrance. Julianna followed me. “Hey, how much?”

“It’s on me,” I said as I waited for the person in front of me to finish paying.

Julianna frowned.

“Okay, leave the tip, if you want.” I stepped up to pay while she went back to the table to leave a tip. When she came back, I took her hand. “Shall we?”

It was a gorgeous
sunny day, with clear blue skies and a light, cool breeze. As had become my habit since 9/11, I looked up at the sky, part of me anticipating the sight of F-15 fighters. I must have been staring up for a while because Julianna looked up, too.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“It was exactly like this on 9/11. I just can’t shake the habit of looking up on days like this.” I could almost hear the deafening roar of jets cutting through an otherwise empty sky.

She
put her hand on my arm gently and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Come on inside.”

We entered the foyer and I felt heat rise to my cheeks as we passed the spot where we’d had our
first make-out session. She led me up the stairs to the third floor and around the banister to her apartment door. Some kind of Egyptian-looking symbol hung on the door, and although I didn’t know what it was, it seemed to wink at me as I walked past it.

As I walked the length of the entry hall into her living room, it occurred to me that I had never made it up to her apartment.
Being there for the first time made me tremble slightly, seeing as how we were starting over and this was sort of like our first date.

H
er living room was washed in the yellow light that was special to that part of the day when it was quietly switching from mid-to late afternoon. Her apartment evidently faced west because I could see the sky just beginning to streak with autumnal golds and late-summer lavender.

“How about a drink? Iced tea? Kombucha? Blueberry juice?” Julianna was standing in front of the open refrigerator, one hand on the door.

“Do you have anything stronger?”

“Yeah, I have some
rum, vodka, gin, Jack Daniel’s. What would you like?”

“How about you take some of that blueberry juice and splash it into some vodka
?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Hey, that sounds great. While I do that, why don’t you pick out some
music? I’ve got some CDs over there, or my iPod is docked on the desk.”

“Okay.” I went to the desk and picked up the iPod, but as I was going through her music, I glanced at the CDs, stacked neatly on a shelf, and spotted Etta James. My eyes went right to it, as if it was calling out to me
.

There was a message there, and
I wanted to share it with Julianna by playing the song that summed up what I was feeling: “At Last.” I hesitated, though, because I didn’t want her to think that I was corny. But I was compelled to play it. If she thought it was corny, then so be it.

The CD tray was sliding into the player when Julianna came in
holding two cobalt blue tumblers. She handed me one and we clinked glasses just as Etta crooned out the first line of the song, telling the world that at last, her love had come along.

I waited for
Julianna to snicker or something, but instead she locked eyes with me for a long moment and I felt my heart being pulled and claimed. She stepped closer and softly kissed me. She took a sip from her drink and I did the same. Then she took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom.

We both set our glasses down on a weathered burea
u that didn’t seem to match any other piece of furniture in the room. With the door open, enough light came in from the living room lamp so that no other light was necessary.

My heart hammered a
jig as she led me to her bed, a fluffy looking affair of a puffed teal comforter and humungous pillows. The bed was backed by a black metal headboard that had a dream catcher tied to it. We sank into the bed, her on top of me. As much as I wanted to ravish her, I didn’t want to be an animal. I’d never wanted anyone so much in my life, and I was calling on all my inner strength to control myself. I didn’t want to rush anything. I wanted to savor every moment, every touch. I hesitated. I hadn’t had sex in a very long time, and I wasn’t even sure I would know what to do anymore.

Then, without warning and to my embarrassment, a tear rolled down my face and dropped to the pillow. I closed my eyes, praying that this wasn
’t a prelude to an entire waterworks performance. When I realized that I’d been lying there for several moments, I opened my eyes, half expecting to see irritation, impatience, or derision on Julianna’s face. Perhaps all three.

Instead, I saw compassion, the kind I’d never seen before. Her soft eyes led me to a world where love was protected and nourished, not used and tossed aside like an empty juice box, crushed and dry. In Julianna’s eyes,
I saw what I needed to revive my deadened heart.

And I think she knew that. She knew what she could do for me and be for me.

My lips trembled at the effort to not cry. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t keep a few more tears from escaping. I closed my eyes again. I felt her lips gently pressing the wet spots on my temples. Her fingers were soft on my cheeks and I could feel the wetness from my tears being gently dragged down to my chin.

I wasn’t expecting her tongue to lick the tears from the corner of my lips. The tip of her tongue barely grazed me as she drew it across my lips. I felt her
solid weight press down on me and her leg prying my thighs apart. I forgot whatever it was I was crying about, I wrapped my arms around her, and she would have to fight me to move away.

T
he muscles in her arms and in her back were firm and sculpted. She managed to loosen my arms just enough to bring her arms up. My skin prickled with gooseflesh where she glided her fingers. Her tongue had found mine and her kisses were delicious. She pulled my T-shirt out of my pants and slipped her hand underneath. My belly rippled.

I was ready to show Julianna just how much I had missed her and how much I wanted her. I began unbuttoning her shirt, a light, sleeveless thing that had picked up her ylang-ylang perfume. I pushed it off her shoulders and she tossed it aside. She pushed my shirt up and over my head. Her bra straps were already falling off her shoulders and I finished the job by unhooking it and pulling it off. The
y got cast aside, along with our pants and underwear.

Her skin against mine was warm and smooth and I wanted to be here like this, her legs wrapped around mine, her breasts pushing against mine, night after night. She pushed her thigh harder into my crotch and began sliding it up and down. At first, I could feel the pleasant friction of her skin against m
e, but very soon, her thigh began to glide easily with the thick, smooth wetness that she had caused, and the warmth was now a searing heat. I began moving my hips, grinding against her leg. She held herself up on her hands and nipped my nipples, driving me absolutely insane.

I drew my body up, desperate for more of her on me, in me, surrounding me with everything she was. She sensed my need because she proceeded to torture me. She moved her thigh away and the breeze from the open window called attention to the slickness coating both my thighs.

She trailed kisses between my breasts and all the way down to my pelvis. I was trembling hard and I didn’t know how much more I could take. She slowly, deliberately, lowered herself until she was between my legs and the flick of her tongue almost made me lose consciousness. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came, but I tried to hold out because I didn’t want this to end. But her tongue went deep and she had me writhing and gasping for air until that unnamable sensation began deep and low inside me and exploded through my nerve endings. I came so hard that I stopped breathing for a moment and my body contracted. I ran my fingers through her hair and held her there until every tremor had stopped and I could breathe again.

She slid back up and rested on top of me. A long, contented sigh told me she was happy, and she seemed so peaceful with her head on my breast and her arm draped across my stomach that I almost didn’t want to disturb her. But I needed to make her feel the way she had just made me feel. And I needed to taste her.

I rolled her over onto her back and explored her body with my lips and hands. I left a track of kisses on every limb, muscle, joint, and curve, from her eyelids to her feet, like a trail of breadcrumbs so I could find my way back. My head bent forward and I brushed my hair, slightly wet with sweat, across her belly, making her tremble. I dragged my hair down and let it graze her clit and she moaned. She gripped my shoulders and squeezed so hard that I thought she would tear into my flesh. But I didn’t care.

I
stroked her lightly, languorously, for so long that my shoulder began to throb, and I knew she couldn’t tolerate much more. I slid two fingers in and she immediately pushed against me. I thrust into her as hard as I knew she wanted, and then I reached my own limit. I bent down and tasted her, but I had her in my mouth for a scant few seconds before she came. Her ass rose from the bed and she inched up on the mattress. I had to pull my fingers out and wrap both arms around her thighs to keep her in place because I was sliding up with her. When she was done, she let out a hard sigh and then stilled.

Lying in her arms, I thanked whoever or whatever was out there for convincing her to forgive me. And I realized that everything that happened from this point forward would be, at least in some small part, because of her.

I blamed her. I blamed her for everything. For the wet spot I had left on the bed, for making me insane, and for giving me the idea that it was possible to find someone who fits you so perfectly that you don’t know where you end and she begins.

That it was possible to find someone who will love you unconditionally.