Authors: Charity Pineiro
Paul’s eyebrows rose in clear surprise and he hesitated, glanced back and forth at the table as if uncertain of where she would go with that piece. Then he passed her the domino, commanding softly. “Touch me.”
Carmen stared down at his arousal, reached out, and with her index finger, took the glistening drop of moisture that had escaped him and lightly circled the tip. He groaned and grabbed hold of her hand. “Please, Carmen. Play by the rules.”
“Oh,” she said huskily. “You meant more like this,” and demonstrated, encircling him with her hand, moving up and down until he groaned again, closed his eyes. She continued stroking him, bent and kissed the tip before taking him into her mouth, licking and suckling him until his hips lifted against her mouth.
“Please,” he said in low tones, almost a moan. Somehow he managed to reach for the piece and toss it on the table.
Carmen sat back up, stood, and came close. She eased his legs together and straddled him. “Do you want the two-six?” she asked for him, suggesting his next move, and he nodded, grabbing hold of her waist.
“You would win, you know, if you ask for that piece,” Carmen explained to him.
He continued to nod, and she smiled, eased herself over him, sinking down until he was buried as deep as he could be. “For that piece, I want to ride you,” she barely got out.
Paul rose then, driving up into her. “I win both ways then,” he said through the ragged breaths he took.
Carmen laughed huskily, cradled his head to her breasts as she moved on him, taking him to a new place with each thrust of her hips. “No,
mi amor
. We
both
win,” she said and placed the last domino on the table.
Carmen snuggled closer to his side and murmured a contented, “Mmm.” They had finished their lovemaking in the breakfast nook and with their bodies sated, eaten the Cuban sandwiches Paul had made, but they had forgotten about during their dominoes game. Afterward Paul had picked her up in his arms and brought her to his bedroom where they once again had made glorious love, this time more leisurely.
Her body still vibrated with the aftermath of that loving. Between her legs was the insistent tightening and damp to remind her of all she had done. Her head rested against his chest and beneath her ear, the slow, steady thump of his heart comforted. He stroked his hand lazily up and down her waist and drew her near as she draped her thigh over his, wanting to be closer.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” she said.
“Stay then.” His voice was a deep rumble that traveled through her body.
She bent her elbow, raised her head, and rested it there. Lightly she stroked his chest, trailing her fingers through the tight, sun-bleached curls on his chest. “My parents would be frantic.”
He shifted onto his side so that he faced her. “So call them. Tell them you’re staying with me.”
Carmen bit her lip, worried it as she imagined the call and all its consequences. She would never hear the end of it. “I don’t think so.”
Paul narrowed his eyes and studied her. “They might not react the way you expect.” He ran his finger down between her breasts and opened his hand to palm the space above her heart. “Stay with me, Carmen. Spend the night in my arms. Wake up next to me the way we’re supposed to.”
She shook her head “No” over and over. “You don’t understand.”
“I do,
mi amor
.”
“They’ll never forgive me, Paul. Or you,” she urged him and placed her hand over his, removed it. She rose and presented her back on him.
Paul leaned his chest against her back as he spoke to her in low tones, nearly whispering the words in her ear. “You’re going to have to decide, eventually, that you and I … we were meant to be together. You’re everything I never even knew I wanted. And I think you feel the same way.”
Carmen did. He fulfilled her in every way she had ever imagined. She looked back at him, reached up, and caressed his face. “You are my other half. My body knows yours as if it was always meant to be. And my soul … I wouldn’t be complete without you,” she admitted.
Paul smiled against her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. “Call them. Tell them you’re with me and we’ll be over for church in the morning.”
She searched his face. It was open and honest, and encouraged her to give it a try. Wrapping the sheet around her body, she grabbed the phone, and dialed her number. Behind her, Paul moved away. As the phone rang and rang, the sound of a drawer opening and closing intruded and she looked back at Paul. He had removed something from the drawer and was now sitting against the headboard, pillows carelessly crushed beneath his back.
He smiled at her calmly and at that moment, her mother picked up the phone. “Mom?”
“Yes, Carmen. Are you okay?” her mother asked groggily.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Carmen apologized, closed her eyes, and huddled into herself as she prepared. She took a deep breath and let out in a rush, “I’m with Paul and I’ll be home in the morning.”
There was a prolonged silence on the line and then the sound got muffled. In the background she could hear her mother talking and the low, barely discernible voice of her father. “Mom?” she prompted, unsure of what was happening.
“Will you be home in time for Mass?” her mother asked, her voice calm and yet emotional.
“Yes, Mom. Paul and I will be over to go to Mass. Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.
“Yes, of course. See you in the morning,” her mother said, nearly in tears and hung up before Carmen could reply.
Carmen stared at the phone and the “call ended” indication on its face. “I have to go. Something’s very wrong.”
“Why do you say that?” Paul asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
She turned and the sheets tangled around her legs. Carmen fought them off, started to rise, but Paul reached out and grasped her hand. “There’s nothing wrong, Carmen. Trust me.”
Carmen shook her head. “You didn’t hear her, Paul. She was almost in tears and she didn’t rant and rave about how this was wrong. How bad this was.”
She was starting to get hysterical and Paul cut her off. “Maybe she’s happy for you.”
“Happy for me?” Carmen nearly screeched.
“She is so happy that you’ve found a man who will care for you and respect you. One who will treat you the way a lady should be treated,” he said.
Carmen sat down then and eyed him quizzically. “That sounds suspiciously like my father.”
“Maybe it does,” he admitted and sat back against the pillows, bringing her to rest next to him.
“And how would you know that?” she wondered aloud.
“Well, let’s just say that if you were my daughter, I’d feel the same way,” he began and reached under the edge of the sheet that barely covered his lower body. “I’d want the man my daughter was involved with to love her and cherish her. To respect her as a person and always treat her with that respect in front of others.”
He brought his hand out then, surprising her with the sight of the small, square jeweler’s box. Paul held it out to her and his hand trembled, but so did hers as she reached out and took the box in her hand.
“I’d expect him to honor my daughter by marrying her. Don’t you agree?”
Carmen shook her head and opened the box to reveal a beautiful two carat diamond solitaire ring. “I don’t know ….”
“You don’t know that I’m asking you to marry me or you don’t know what to say?” he asked softly, took the box from her hand, and removed the ring from the velvet casing where it rested.
She glanced up at him, her eyes burning with unshed tears of joy. “It just seems so … sudden.”
Paul grasped her left hand, brought it up, and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. “It’s been four months that we’ve been seeing each other and I can’t ever remember a time when you weren’t a part of my life. Nor can I imagine my life without you in it.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the finger that bore his ring. “I love you. I want to marry you.”
“They knew,” she uttered as it occurred to her then. “You told my parents --”
“I spoke to your father and asked for permission to marry his daughter. Now I’m asking your permission. I want to be your husband.” He set her hand back down and gazed at her intently. “Will you marry me?”
Carmen met his gaze and there was no doubt in her mind. “Yes. I want to be your wife. I want to have your children,” she said, grasped his hand, and held it tight.
Paul smiled, his heart soaring with her promise of love. He bent his head and took her lips in a kiss sweet with all the promise of their tomorrows.
She held his head and eased him down into the bed. As his mouth opened on hers, she took him into her body the way she had taken all of him into her soul.
As he loved her, he knew then. He would never be alone again.
Carmen nervously looked her father over, straightened his tie, and checked for any lint on his dark blue dress suit. There was none. He was perfectly groomed and totally acceptable for such an auspicious occasion.
Her mother fidgeted as well, smoothing the skirt of her new dress. Carmen had bought it for her the week before at a chic little shop on the Coral Way. Her mother had protested the expense, but Carmen had wanted her mother to have something special. She deserved it with all that she did for her family. Moreover, Carmen wanted her mother and father not to feel out of place in front of Paul’s family. To that end, she had sprung for the new duds out of her savings.
It had been two months since their engagement and Paul’s family was finally going to be in town long enough to meet her and her family. Paul had said not to worry and that his parents and brother would love them. She sensed, however, that their approval mattered to him, and she was worried it wouldn’t be as simple as Paul thought. So much separated their families. Money. Culture. Education.
Carmen hoped more joined them together, namely her and Paul’s love for one another.
Suddenly queasy, she ran into the bathroom to give herself the once over and was pleased with the way the conservative black dress looked on her. Connie had helped her pick it out, hoping to tone down Carmen’s usually more flamboyant tastes. Even though it was more staid, it was also elegant, showed off her figure, and made her feel feminine.
The peal of the front door bell had her running out to the door. When she opened it, Paul stood there, dressed in a beautiful charcoal grey silk suit. He smiled as he saw her, stepped close, and embraced her.
“You look great,” he said and went to kiss her, but she pulled away.
“You look wonderful yourself, but you can’t ruin my lipstick until after we meet your parents.”
“Aw, shucks, darlin’,” he teased, giving her body a little squeeze. “Have pity on this good ol’ boy.” He gave her his little boy grin, one she had come to know all too well in the last months, and relented, dropping a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Damn. I got lipstick on your face.” She rubbed at it with her thumb and that simple motion awoke her nerve endings. Carmen gazed into his eyes and saw Paul’s desire ignite. She dropped her thumb and rubbed it across his mouth. He opened it, took her thumb into his mouth, and bit it gently. “Later, then
mi amor
,” he promised.
She nodded, walked him in to greet her parents and moments later, they were in Paul’s SUV and on their way to dinner at a very exclusive country club.
As they pulled up to the club house and the valet opened their doors, Carmen noticed that Connie and Victor had also just arrived. The couples all met by the front door, exchanged greetings, and then entered.
When the maitre’d noticed Paul, he greeted him warmly, his French accent all too apparent, and yet, not quite authentic. “
Monsieur
Paul. So nice to see you again.”
Paul smiled and shook the other man’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Hank.”
The maitre’d grimaced, but it was in jest. His accent disappeared as he responded, “Only you would dare. Your parents and brother are already in the private dining room. Shall I show you the way?”
Paul slipped his hand beneath Carmen’s elbow, waving the other man off. “I think I know the way by now,
Henri
,” he kidded.
He stepped into the doorway of the main salon of the club house. The room was paneled in a dark mahogany with brass wall fixtures and chandeliers for light. At one end of the room there was a bank of windows which looked out onto the grounds. Tables were scattered throughout the room and every table was occupied, but there was only the low murmur of hushed conversation and the clink of plates and cutlery.
Paul led her across the crowded room, her family trailing behind them, to a door at the far side. Paul knocked, opened it, and motioned for her to enter.
Carmen felt like the man choosing between the tiger and the lady, only she had no choice. She had to meet them and hoped that anyone who had raised someone like Paul couldn’t be all that bad.
Inside the room was a long elegantly set table. No one was sitting. Instead, three people stood near a bar at the side of the room, pouring themselves drinks. As she entered, they looked up and smiled, and the one older man walked over, his hand held out. “You must be Paul’s fiancée. He’s told us so much about you,” he gushed, his voice tinged with an accent Carmen found hard to place. It lacked the drawl of a native Floridian and was decidedly more upper-crusty.
Carmen glanced at Paul and realized by his expression that he had barely told them anything about her, so she improvised. “I’ve heard a great deal as well about you, Mr. Stone. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she replied, although Paul had been equally close-mouthed about his parents.
“Carmen,” Paul jumped in. “These are my parents, Kimberly and Samuel. My brother, Simon.” He then introduced his family to her parents and Connie and Victor, and there was a lot of hand shaking until everyone had finished. Then they all stood there awkwardly, wondering what to do next.
“May I suggest a bottle of champagne to toast this happy occasion,” his brother offered, picked up a phone on the bar, and ordered bottles of Dom Perignon.
The waiter entered only seconds later, armed with two bottles of champagne and glasses. He deftly removed the cork, poured the bubbly, and served it to all, then left as quickly as he had arrived.
Simon raised his glass and motioned to where Carmen and Paul stood. “To my brother and his beautiful fiancée. Much luck and happiness.”
Everyone joined in the toast and things seem to move more smoothly and swiftly from there, Carmen thought.
Paul’s parents had pre-ordered the multi-course meal and each of the courses was brought out at an expertly timed pace, giving them time for conversation between each segment of the meal. Carmen answered questions about her schooling and career plans, and listened as her sister and Victor also answered similar queries.
“And you, Mr. Gonzalez. What do you do?” Paul’s mother asked.
“I work at the
Miami Herald
,” he said.
“Oh, how wonderful. That’s a great paper,” she gushed. “Are you a writer or an editor?”
Roberto Gonzalez glanced at his daughter, clearly uncomfortable.
“My father is the supervisor for the night shift presses,” Carmen clarified, earning an open-mouthed ‘O’ from his mother and an “I’m sorry.”
A strained silence followed and Paul wished there was something he could do to muzzle his mother. He wondered whether she was sorry that she had embarrassed the man or that she was sorry about his position. More likely the latter and it galled him. Carmen’s father and he had developed a relationship of sorts over the last few months and he had come to admire and respect the man. Roberto had treated him more like family than his own parents.
“Mr. Gonzalez is an amazing dominoes player and great at Trivial Pursuit. He reads everything he can get his hands on and I haven’t been able to beat him yet,” he offered and smiled at Roberto.
“Thank you, my son,” Carmen’s father replied and Paul nodded.
“
De nada, Roberto
,” he replied.
“Why, Paul. I didn’t know you knew Spanish. Didn’t you study French at --” his brother began.
“Yes, Simon, I did. But I’ve found that Spanish is not only more valuable, but also an amazingly romantic language.” He looked at Carmen and enjoyed the flush that worked over her cheeks.
“Well, as a matter of fact, Spanish is one of the Romance languages, like French,” his father pontificated and went on with a long-winded diatribe that seemed to lull everyone into a near-zombie state which continued until the waiter returned to take their coffee and dessert orders.
Paul nearly groaned out loud as his brother suggested cigars and drinks for the men in the club. “Simon, I believe the ladies may want our company,” he countered and his brother seemed taken aback.
“I’m sorry, Paul. Ladies, I apologize as well for being so insensitive.”
Paul held up his hand. “No apology necessary, Simon.”
They remained in their seats, finished their coffees and desserts, and then Paul rose. “It’s getting late,” he said and laid his hand on the back of Carmen’s chair.
Carmen glanced at him, only too glad to put an end to this night. While it had gone fairly well, like most first meetings, it had been a little awkward. And while Paul’s parents hadn’t been hostile, they hadn’t really been friendly either. Just cordial and polite. Neutral actually. She wished they had shown some emotion. Still, she guessed neutrality was better than hostility.
“It was a pleasure meeting you,” she offered as she rose and held out her hand to his parents. “I’m certain we’ll be seeing more of one another,” she finished.
Paul’s parents rose, and everyone else at the table followed suit. Goodbyes were exchanged and they all walked out together, waited at the curb for the valets to bring around the cars, except for Paul’s parents. Their car was first as the chauffeur wheeled up a Rolls Royce.
Paul gave his mother a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and shook his father’s hand. “We’ll be gone until sometime in August, Paul,” his mother said. “Call and let us know when the shower and wedding will be so we can schedule our return trip.”
“Yes, Mother. Father,” he said and nodded, stood by the curb, gazing at their car until it pulled out of sight.
His brother’s Jaguar was next.
Simon said his goodbyes to everyone and heartily slapped Paul’s shoulder. “You and I need to have lunch,
soon
,” he emphasized, stepped into his car, and drove away.
Paul wondered what that was about. Simon and he had not had lunch nor any other meal together for months. He shrugged, turned around, and looked at the party that remained, smiling tightly. “Well, that’s my family.”
Carmen came over and hugged him. “They seem nice, Paul. It wasn’t that awful,” she tried to reassure.
He looked over her shoulder to the others and noticed that they seemed to agree with her assessment and suddenly felt not so bad anymore.