OBSESSED WITH TAYLOR JAMES (6 page)

She pressed her forehead against his. “You know my Spanish
is terrible.  Translate what you said to me in English.”

He propped his leg on the lower rung of the barstool. “Do I
really need to translate what I said?”

“No, you don’t.”  She smiled placing a soft kiss on his
lips. “But, you should see a doctor.  You seem to have that problem a lot?”

He moved his head looking at her confused. “Um-what, Taylor,
what do you think I said?”

“We don’t have time to discuss it.  We have to get to the
show.  It would be impolite to keep Prince waiting,” she said sliding off the
stool taking his hand dragging him behind her.

                                                                                                                                                         
Chapter 5
              
 

One Month Later

Taylor huffed and puffed, as she struggled to finish the
last quarter-mile of her early morning run.  She had not run in weeks, and her
legs were feeling the burn from the lack of exercise. 

She could blame her laziness on being too busy at work, but
she would not lie to herself; she was too busy playing with Mario Infante after
work and on the weekends.  The man had managed to sweep her off her feet with
his romantic ways.  They were taking it slow with the intimacy, but had come
close only to stop and regroup.

Without the sex, which was getting harder to avoid, they
enjoyed late night dinners, dancing, long walks in the park and shopping. 
Mario was a tolerant when their dates ended with them cuddling and kissing on
her sofa.  He didn’t press her for sex when she pulled away when it got hot and
heavy.  He was understanding, and said it would happen when the time was right.

A mile into her run, she’d made up her mind the time had
come.  The when and the where it would happen was the barrier standing in the
way.  Dreaming about him night after night and playing with him during day
hours had her wondering what lay beneath the expensive suits and the silver
tongue.  He had the ability to tell what he could do; she finally wanted him to
show what he could do.

Taylor finally made it to her street, as the song playing on
the iPod was the last on the playlist.  She had different playlists she used
for exercising depending on her mood.  A short playlist lasted for an hour run
and the longer playlists she used when she wanted to run for more than an hour.
Today she used the short playlist until she regained her endurance for longer
runs.

She lived in a quiet bedroom community on Cleveland’s
westside.  There were hardly any children among the mostly working class
residents who occupied modest homes with well-kept yards, but plenty of dogs.  
She did not have a dog to walk or run with, and therefore kept her running to
daylight hours.  Just because her street was quiet, it did not mean freaks did
not lurk about.

A few houses from her brick colonial, she noticed Dillon
sitting on the stairs of the front porch.  He was reading a book and drinking
what looked to be coffee from a fast food restaurant.

She picked up her pace to get to her house.  Wiping sweat
from her forehead, she pulled the buds of the iPod from her ears. “Hey, what
are you doing here so early in the morning?”

Dillon looked at her.  “Wow, you do still live here.  I was
starting to wonder if you’d moved and didn’t tell me.”

“It’s too early in the morning to be sarcastic,” she said
squeezing by him to walk up the steps.

He gathered up his belongings and followed her into the
house. He loved Taylor’s style of decorating.  It reflected her inner beauty
and soul.  The African artwork and statutes strategically placed around her
modest home accented the modern furniture, and polished hardwood floors. The
only carpeting was on the steps leading upstairs. 

Taylor was proud of her rich African-American history.  She
had photographs of family sitting on the mantle and inside curio cabinets.  She
also had very rare photographs of her family dating back as far as the 1800s. 
Her mother had given her pieces of furniture from her great-great grandparents
that she kept protected from the elements in a climate-controlled warehouse
until she had a house big enough to display everything.

The one piece she loved and used was the hand-carved
mahogany queen-sized bed her great-great grandfather made for his ill wife so
she would have a peaceful place to sleep at night.  Taylor had it restored and
searched the internet for a dresser and other bedroom furniture of that era
that came close to what he’d made to complete her bedroom.  He’d been inside
her home plenty of times, and knew the layout like the back of his hand.

Dillon followed Taylor into the kitchen. “So, what have you
been up to lately?  I hardly see you anymore.”

She held up one finger while she swallowed down the glass of
cold water. Putting the glass in the sink, she said, “I see you every day at
work.”

“Really at work,” he said ditching the empty coffee cup.

 “Yeah, it is a brief wave here and there, but at least I
know you are alive and kicking.”

He pulled a stool from under the kitchen island and sat
down. “You know what I’m talking about.  We don’t hang out anymore after work
either.  We haven’t had lunch together in months.”

Taylor took an apple from the fruit bowl on counter and bit
into it.  The juice from the fruit dribbled down her lips and chin.  Dillon’s reaction
was silent as she licked her lips lapping up the sweetness of the apple’s
nectar.  Her long hair, braided in a ponytail, and tucked under the white
sports band around her head, showed the natural beauty of her face that was
void of makeup.  The short black sports bra exposed a flat stomach glistening
with sweat from the run. And the black spandex shorts emphasized her full
hips.  Those luscious hips that he desired to bare his children one day.

She was talking, but his ears were not tuning into what she
was saying.  He was enthralled in her body and thinking what he wanted to do to
her.  Rumor around the office was she and Mario Infante were forming a close
bond, but she denied it whenever he asked her questions about the two of them
in the beginning, and dropped the subject as they drifted further apart.

“Dillon, are you listening to me?”

He snapped to reality when her voice penetrated his ears.
“Huh…yeah, I heard what you said.  So you want to go to a movie tonight.  Just
the two of us to get caught up on what’s been going on lately?”

She bit the apple again tossing the remains in the garbage. 
“I can’t.  I have plans this evening.”

“Oh. Did you meet a new man and waiting to see how things
shake out before you spring him on me?”

She rolled her eyes at him.  “Look nosy. My cousin Selma is
having a baby shower.  It’s going to be a night out with the girls.  I haven’t
had a girl’s night in a long time.  In fact,” she said checking her watch. “I
have appointments starting at noon.  I need to shower and get changed.”

“I remember Selma.  She was always at your parent’s house
when I would come over as a kid.”

“She hung out with me and Sabrina all the time. Well she is
married and expecting a baby soon.”

“Good for her.  Hey, I can be your chauffeur today,” he
piped with excitement.

She pulled the headband off her head looking at him
strangely.  “I can handle it.  Besides my manicure and pedicure, I have a hair
appointment, and that can take hours.”

“I don’t mind waiting.  I haven’t seen Sabrina in ages.  It
will be fun to catch up with her too.”

She frowned. “Dillon, seriously, you don’t have anything
better to do than cart me around to my appointments?”

“I don’t have any plans today.  How cool will I look to the
women as they watch me wait patiently for you to be finished?  They’ll wish
they had a man so content with waiting patiently for their woman.”

She curled her eyebrows. “Dillon, I don’t know where to
begin with that, but I will say you make a good visual but with the wrong
woman.  You should help Kelly with planning the wedding since you have free
time today.  I’m sure she would appreciate the help without her asking you.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Man, get with the program.  This wedding is going to
happen, and you are a major part of it.  Warm those dang cold feet and get your
act together.”

“Why do we have to get married?  Why can’t we continue to
live together and omit the legal documents?  This is Kelly’s dream, not mine.”

“You proposed!”

“I did that because she was pregnant.  She isn’t pregnant
anymore.”

Taylor paced the kitchen. “Is there someone else, Dillon?”

“What?”

“Are you seeing another woman and that is why you don’t want
to get married now?”

He dropped his chin to his chest.  She threw her hands in
the air. “Dillon! Is the silence a way of saying there is?  Have you been
intimate with this other woman?”

“Taylor, I haven’t done anything with any other woman.”

“You better not be lying to me.  I would be so disappointed
in you if it came out later you did cheat on Kelly before the wedding.  She
deserves better than that.”

He got off the stool. “She deserves better than me anyhow. 
Apparently, I’m the only one that recognizes that, and if I walk away from her,
then I’m the bad guy.”

She went over to him placing her hands on his arms.  “Talk
to her.  Maybe you aren’t having cold feet but serious doubts. You should not
enter into a marriage with doubts.  Is there a nice way you can ask her to
postpone the wedding?  A little counseling will help you get over your doubts.”

He shuddered from her touch.  “I do talk; she doesn’t hear
what I’m saying.”

“Then speak louder.  You are a litigator.  You make a living
getting people to listen and do the right thing.  Put that to use for you.”

“I will try to talk to her again, but she will start to cry
and I will back down as usual.  I’m going to go so you can get ready for the
baby shower.”

She hugged him. “Maybe we can have breakfast in the
morning.  Call me in the morning if things are okay between you two.”

He closed his arms around her body.  Her skin had cooled
from the air conditioning in the house.  He was close enough to smell the sweat
clinging to her neck.  A smell he didn’t find offensive but an aphrodisiac that
awakened every male signal in his body.  He loved her, and life would be so
much better if he could just tell her how he longed to be with her.

He pushed away from her smiling. “Go shower.  I’m gone.  I
will call you in the morning.”

She followed him to the front door. “Thanks for stopping by
and I hope it works out.  You know I love you and Kelly to death.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, I know.  Have fun tonight.”  He skipped
down the stairs and got into his car.  Reversing from the driveway, he lingered
on her figure standing in the doorway and sighed.  How he wished he could have
that vision of her watching him off every day for the rest of his life.

*****

Taylor closed the door locking it.  She shook her head
thinking about Dillon’s comment about him being her man.  This was growing old
with her.  She had pleaded with him to stop joking about that, especially when
he would do it in front of Kelly.  She also wanted him to stop doing it because
it made her uncomfortable since Kelly was also her friend.

She didn’t mention to Mario how uncomfortable Dillon’s
references made her since technically they had not come forward as a couple. It
would also give him fuel to boast his argument regarding Dillon’s attraction
for her.  The sneaking around like teenagers was her idea and an issue to be
addressed with him again.  She was ready to come clean with everyone about
their relationship and let the chips fall where they may as far as Dillon was
concerned.

The doorbell rang, as she climbed the first two steps to go
upstairs to shower.  She backed down the steps to look through the peephole.  A
smile crossed her face.  Unlocking the door and yanking it open, she pulled
Mario inside.  “What a sight for sore eyes,” she said kissing him.

He broke the kiss letting his hands rest on her hips. “I beg
to differ. I’m getting an eyeful and I like what I see,” he said as his eyes
roamed her barely dressed body.

“I’m a mess and stink from my morning run.  I was on my way
to take a shower.  Make yourself comfortable—I’ll only be a minute.”

He released her stepping back. “That is not a true
statement.  Men take a minute in the shower; women take hours.  Why don’t I
come back when you’re done primping and grooming, and we can spend the day
together?”

She stomped her foot. “I would love to spend the day with
you, baby.  Only, I can’t.  I have a party to attend this afternoon.”

He hunched his shoulders. “If you don’t have a date, I would
be happy to go with you.”

She patted him on the cheek. “It’s a baby shower.”

“In that case, I rescind my offer.  What time will the baby
shower be over?”

She calculated in her head. “It starts at 4:00 so maybe
7:00pm or 8:00pm tonight.  I can’t imagine it will go longer than that; she is
eight months pregnant and will tire easily.”

He walked over to the door. “I will meet you here at 9:00pm
and I’ll bring the booze.”

Taylor braced her hands on his hard chest pushing him
against the door.  He was wearing a snug-fitting navy blue T-shirt and dark
blue jeans.  The characteristics of his upper body were hard to ignore.  His
muscular arms strained against the sleeves of the T-shirt outlining the
hardness of his muscled chest and flat stomach. The shirt tucked inside his
jeans give form to his athletic hips and toned buttocks. His body filled the
relaxed denim material like the male models for the 501 Jeans ads on
television.

She kissed the tip of his nose. “The booze is fine but don’t
forget to bring that other important item.”  His look of confusion caused her
to arch an eyebrow. “Come on, counselor, you know what I’m talking about?”

A salacious grin unfolded across his face. “Are you sure you
are ready?”

She ran her hand up his thigh.  Feathering her fingers
across the fly of his jeans, she pressed the palm of her hand flat against it. 
He pulsated against her palm. “Oh, I’m sure. And, if you don’t leave now, I
won’t make it to my scheduled appointments or the baby shower.”

His hand grasped the base of her neck dragging her head
towards him.  His lips sought hers to weld them together in a passionate kiss. 
Her lips parted as Mario’s tongue invaded her mouth.  He tasted sweet to her. 
Their moaning in the small space bounced from wall to wall.