New Amsterdam: Tess (15 page)

Smiling, he asks, “What movies are you watching?”

“You know what I mean.” She blushes.

Using a pair of serving tongs, Levi places a lobster tail on each of their plates. “I get you, Tess.” He then serves each of them a heaping spoonful of the tomato-corn salad and casually reveals, “I lost my virginity in a barn – it was nothing like I had practiced.”

With her eyes sparkling and her smile expanding, Thessaly demands, “Do tell.”

“Not much to tell. Priscilla Dobson and I had Amish-sex after a school dance.”

Scrunching her nose, she asks, “Amish sex?”

“Yep. Missionary position with the lights off.” Cracking the shell of the lobster tail with his bare hands, Levi carefully slides out the tender meat and feeds it to Thessaly. “And then we went to Waffle House,” he mumbles.

She takes a bite and nibbles on the tip of Levi’s finger. Bringing her cocktail to her mouth, she drinks half, and then dabs her mouth with a napkin. “So, I want to talk to you about a few things,” she says.

Levi waggles his brows and asks, “Like, favorite positions?”

Smiling, she replies, “Like, your honey.”

Looking at the Manhattan skyline, Levi brings the vodka lemonade to his mouth and finishes it off. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his lips, he says, “Tess, the bee project is something we started months before I met you. Colonies of displaced bees gave us an opportunity to create a partnership with a refugee program, as well as an apprenticeship program for women interested in beekeeping. Most of the women that enrolled in the program come from domestic abuse shelters or unemployed single mothers in the city works initiative.”

“I had to ask,” she says, placing her hand on his arm.

“Brooklyn Soil doesn’t plan to sell honey. But as you know, honey is a direct result from keeping honeybees. And the only way for us to sustain the program is to get rid of it.”

“So you’re including it with your wholesale distribution?”

“Yep, that’s the plan. And the weekly market in Long Island City will set up an instructional tent focused on honeybees and urban farming. They’ll give cases of the stuff away.”

“And what about the email from your sister and the bed and breakfast proposal – do you have anything to do with that?”

“Does it really matter?”

“No.” She laughs.

“Tess, there’s something I need to clear up as well.”

“Really, what?”

“Are you still in love with that guy? The one with the yacht fetish.”

“Mason? No! He’s just, he’s like, totally in the past. Why would you even think that?”

“I saw some texts.”

Fearing that she will always have a connection with Mason that could pose a problem, Thessaly gasps for the right words. “Um,” she whispers.

“Look, it doesn’t bother me that you have a history or whatever, but I need to be certain that I’m the only one that fucks you.”

“You are! I mean, you can,” Thessaly mutters. “Mason and I are friends. I promise.” She grabs her glass of lemonade vodka and chugs the remaining cocktail, avoiding eye contact with Levi as she fidgets on her crate. She places the empty glass on the table and closes her eyes – roiling from the sudden rush of tart lemons.

“Good?” Levi refills their glasses with vodka and laughs.

“Very good,” she agrees, opening her eyes and smiling.

“Let’s see . . .” Levi counts off conversational topics with his fingers as he speaks. “Tour of the farm, lobster, honey, refugees, prick with the yacht . . . what else can we talk about before I rip off your dress with my teeth and bend you over that wheelbarrow?”

Breathing heavily, Thessaly throws back the vodka like a quenching oasis of water in a dry desert. Slamming the glass back on the table, she then shoves two whole strawberries in her mouth to avoid the question.

“Um, Tess?” Levi teases.

Wiping her forehead and chewing quickly, Thessaly snickers nervously. “Talk about stuff,” she rambles, staring into Levi’s eyes.

“Do you like the Foo Fighters?” he asks.

“I love them.”

“Good. You can be my date on Thursday,” he says, feeding her another bite of lobster.

“You got tickets?” she asks, covering her mouth.

“Hey, a straight dude can crush on David Grohl, too.” He winks.

Leaning into Levi and feeling the sudden warmth from the vodka, Thessaly purrs, “I really want to feed you.”

“Oh really?”

Moving Levi’s hand to his own thigh, Thessaly teases, “So no hands.”

She stands from the table and carries their plates to the opposite end. Levi watches as her ass bounces with each step, smiling approvingly when she bends over to pick up a fallen napkin. He touches his growing bulge, pressing against the restricting cut of his pants, and emits a small moan.

Returning to Levi with a feline smile, Thessaly glides her hand along his shoulder as she moves behind him. Curling her fingers in his hair, and reaching her mouth to his ear, she rasps, “You’ll need to be restrained, Mr. Jones.” Taking a deep breath and silently repeating her new mantra,
bold, bold, bold
, Thessaly leans down to grab the pocket hose.

Levi shifts in his chair and lowers his head to hide a chuckle. “Sweet Tess, can I change chairs first? My ass will go numb if I sit in this wiry piece of shit any longer.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally,” she quietly obliges. “Which one do you want?”

“Not sure,” Levi answers as he stands from his chair. Noticing the garden hose in Thessaly’s hand, he knocks the wire chair to the side and grabs Thessaly by her waist. Dragging her to his arms like a paper doll, he whispers, “Drop the hose, Tess.”

Thessaly complies.

Levi lifts her chin and parts her red lips with his thumb. Moving Thessaly toward the table, Levi lifts her onto the rustic pine with the strength of one arm. And then using both hands, he spreads her legs and positions himself between her thighs.

Levi kisses her neck as his hands roam her body. Easing Thessaly on her back and grabbing the tufted pillow from the crate, Levi tucks it under her head while sucking on her bottom lip. Thessaly’s chest rises and stalls as she holds her breath and digs into Levi’s shoulders.

“Relax,” Levi whispers against her mouth.

Grabbing a piece of ice from the galvanized bucket, Levi pops it between his teeth and slowly drags his mouth over Thessaly’s neck. In response, she arches her back and moans in pleasure while Levi continues to trail the ice down her chest. Thessaly flinches slightly, aroused and tickled all in the same sensation, so Levi pins her down and continues.

When the ice cube finally melts, Levi concentrates on exposing Thessaly’s breasts. Biting the silk fabric covering her chest, Levi makes contact with an erect nipple. He gently sucks and tugs, and then moves the fabric with a swift pinch of his mouth. Kissing her small breast and delicately flicking her nipple with his tongue, Levi releases her arms and reaches for a strawberry. As Thessaly closes her eyes and trembles, Levi secretly dips the strawberry in the opened jar of honey.

Standing upright between Thessaly’s legs, and watching as her face reddens with color, Levi smirks and then falls to his knees. He places his hands under her ass and carefully scoots her to the edge of the table. Resting her legs on his shoulders, Levi kisses inside her thighs as Thessaly shudders in delight.

“Mmm,” she moans.

Continuing with his improvised seduction, Levi positions the honeyed strawberry between his teeth so that the tip protrudes from his lips. He trails the strawberry along the inside of Thessaly’s thigh, occasionally swirling in different directions as she quivers. Lifting the skirt of her dress, Levi traces the lacey pattern of her black thong with the point of the ripe strawberry. Approaching the sensitive spot of sexual pleasure, Levi chews the strawberry and then slides the triangle of lace to the side with his teeth. With the black lace finding a place between her lips, Levi sucks off every remaining drop of glistening honey.

He nibbles. She moans.

She shudders. He groans.

Needing to feel more, Levi lowers Thessaly’s skirt, takes her hand, and slowly helps her to her feet.

Wobbling in his arms, Thessaly says, “I’m dizzy.”

“I know what you mean – all the blood rushed to my dick.” He smirks. “Maybe we should go.”

Holding Thessaly’s hand, Levi pops a few blueberries in his mouth and finishes off his vodka. He retrieves Thessaly’s small purse from the wheelbarrow and then leads them to his office. “Hang on. I need my shoes.”

Levi sits on his desk and puts on his burgundy Adidas Sambas while staring at Thessaly, leaning against the door with the face of a satisfied angel.

“Are you still dizzy?” he asks.

“I feel weightless,” she replies.

Standing from the desk and shutting off the lights, Levi wraps his arm around Thessaly’s waist and guides her into the elevator. As the elevator starts its descent, Levi declares, “I’ve never tasted a riper peach.”

When the doors open to the ground floor, Levi walks Thessaly to the main entrance of Brooklyn Soil. As Levi pushes on the handle to the revolving door, he clears his throat to wake the security guard napping in the corner. “Good night, Felicia,” he jokes.

“Now what?” Thessaly asks as they spill onto an empty sidewalk.

Pressing his mouth against her ear and sliding his hand to her ass, Levi whispers, “Now we fuck.”

Squinting his eyes and tightening his lips, Levi asks, “F-seven?”

Arching an eyebrow and peering over the top of her Milton Bradley naval plans, Thessaly replies, “Miss. G-two?”

“Miss. F-six?”

Thessaly sighs. “Hit. Do you ever get tired of people always assuming you’re the really good guy?”

“Not really, why?” Levi scrapes the remaining ice cream from his bowl and shrugs his shoulders.

“It bothers me when people describe me as sweet or super nice. B-four?”

“Miss. H-two? Why is that a bad thing? The alternative to being nice is a bad thing.”

“Hit. And, you sunk my battleship.” Licking her spoon, Thessaly adds, “But sometimes being likeable is boring.”

“You’re not boring, Tess. And trust me, life on the opposite end of the human spectrum is a miserable way to live.”

“A-seven? How would you know?” Thessaly ladles a spoonful of melting cookie dough ice cream and slurps through her lips.

Looking down at his plastic ships, Levi says, “Hit. Because there was a time when I was a complete asshole.”

Shocked, Thessaly drops her spoon. “No way!”

Scratching his chin and watching Thessaly’s face sadden, Levi takes a deep breath and explains. “I was a bully in high school. I spent two years mercilessly torturing a kid in the grade above me.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I could lie and say it was because of my douchebag friends. Or maybe I just wanted attention. But the truth is, picking on that kid was a twisted rush of excitement.”

“Levi,” whispers Thessaly. “What did you do?”

“Nothing physical, but my parents found out I was a cruel bastard and we moved to Harrisburg. They enrolled me in a private school and cut off my contact with almost everyone.”

“Oh.” Thessaly sighs.

“But then a few years later, I spent the summer with Dani on the farm, and I saw the kid working as a cashier in the supermarket.” He leans forward and exhales. “Marshall Lewis dropped out of high school to take care of his mother going through chemo.” Levi’s eyes, the color of the deep water, begin to tear. “A week later, after I asked around about Marshall, I returned to the store and quietly approached him. He recognized me immediately – what victim doesn’t memorize the haunting face of their tormenter?”

“What happened?”

“I apologized. Like six times. And at first he refused to accept my apology, accusing me of wanting to clear my own conscience, but then he reached out to me.” Levi takes a sip of water and then continues. “I was sitting on the porch of our farmhouse watching the fireflies when Marshall rode his bike down our main road with a six-pack of beer.”

“So he forgave you?” Thessaly shifts in her chair and bites the inside of her cheek.

“Not exactly, but he did pity me. And then he asked something of me that required my trust more than my remorse.”

“What did he want?”

Leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his bare torso, Levi replies, “Marshall asked for my help. So I spent the final two weeks of my summer vacation designing a small garden in the back of his house. Tomatoes, herbs, and . . .”

“And?” Thessaly asks, fighting a smile.

“You know, a little something for medicinal purposes.” He winks.

Laughing, Thessaly quizzes, “So the moral to your story is to be kind.”

“I don’t preach morality, Tess. But the moral of my story is to always use hydroponics and cannabis seedlings at the start of germination.”

Nodding as she licks the stubborn hot fudge from her spoon, Thessaly mutters, “I actually did know that – whose turn is it?”

Knocking his Battleship board off the table and laughing, Levi quips, “You win.”

As Levi stands and clears the bowls from the table with a devilish grin, Thessaly glances at the trail of auburn hair disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.