Authors: Bridget Midway
After Taren graduated from college, she felt like she reverted back to her childhood days. She’d moved back into her old bedroom with her original twin bed. Her parents took care of her and her needs. They kept her preserved like a rare doll. The thought that her concerns had been dismissed so easily boiled her blood. Her heart thumped a hard rhythm. If she didn’t get herself cooled down, she would lose it.
Taren moved her chair back. “I need some air.”
“Let me go with you.” Connie started to get up from her seat.
“No. Please. I’ll be fine.” Taren never thought her fun-loving parents would be so overbearing. “Enjoy your dinner.”
Taren strolled briskly down a hallway in the fancy Cavalier Hotel. If nothing else, she could always say that she had been to the lavish Virginia Beach hotel. She wanted to do it, though, under better circumstances.
Her high, black-and-white strappy heels didn’t allow her to run as fast as she wanted, but she moved quick enough to be able to whisk by guests milling about in the lobby. At the end of a hallway, she pushed on a set of double doors to a patio.
She ended up in a place that seemed to come straight from a dream or a fantasy. Lit candles in glass vases and candlelit lanterns lined the brick patio flooring. Chaise lounges with white seating cushions lined the sides to leave room to walk down the center. Soft piano music, piped in through speakers, wafted through the still night air.
Taren sat in one of the lounges and closed her eyes. If she listened beyond the music and concentrated hard enough, she heard the ocean waves a block away crashing on the beach. At least she forced her mind to hear that, to imagine her life on the beach.
She opened her eyes and stared into the darkened garden where she caught something she hadn’t noticed before. A man stood toward the garden area with his fists on his hips.
From behind, he looked impressive. A tall white man with a head full of his own dirty blond hair and big feet would capture any woman’s attention. She couldn’t wait for him to turn around.
She noticed a white stick in between his fingers. “Lots of candles around here.”
The stranger turned around and the air escaped her body. Even in darkness he looked incredibly enticing. Shadows highlighted his sleek nose, strong jaw line, and full lips.
At first she thought he may have worked at the hotel as a front desk clerk or concierge or manager. The way he wore the suit, no way could this man be told what to do by someone else.
He moved slowly toward her, stalking her.
“Um, you can use one of the candles to light your cigarette.” She hated the habit, but felt the need to be accommodating.
The man looked down at the slender addiction between his long fingers. “I bummed this from some waiter out here, but I wasn’t going to smoke it.” He crushed it in his hand. “Old habits die hard.”
Taren’s clit throbbed as soon as she heard his deep voice. That reaction alone made her sit up and take notice of this man. As soon as he moved in closer, she noticed his light blue eyes.
Her heart pounded, and all at once, she felt like a schoolgirl again experiencing her first crush. No way could she feel this way over a stranger. She would blame this reaction on lack of food. Her dinner waited for her in the ballroom along with her parents’ overprotective nature.
“Know what you mean.” Taren thought about her parents and their need to be so overbearing.
“You look nice.” He scanned her from her head down to her toes.
She thanked the Lord that she’d had a pedicure. Taren swept her hand over her hair that she had styled in an up ’do.
“Here for a wedding or something?” He looked at the hotel. “This place is known for that.”
“No, here with my parents.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth. “My dad owns an insurance company. We’re here for some builders event.”
“But you have no interest in that.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Not really. I don’t know the person being honored. I don’t even know his name or the name of his business. I’m here to enjoy rubbery chicken.” She lowered her head and voice. “And be treated like a child.”
“What was that?” He moved closer to her.
“Never mind. Are you here for a wedding?” She smiled. “Are you the groom?”
He shook his head. “Not really marrying material. What about you?”
Taren shrugged. “If it were up to my parents, I would be married off to the goober at our table because he looks safe and reliable, which means he’s boring.”
“Boring might be good for you.”
Taren tilted her head at this stranger’s assessment of her.
He continued. “You’re young.”
“And?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“You don’t know what you want yet. Sometimes it takes someone who’s been there to help guide you.”
Taren bolted to her feet. “The best decision you made tonight had to be that you didn’t smoke that cigarette. Other than that, you are dead wrong about me.” She started to leave.
“So you didn’t want me smoking?” he asked from behind her.
Despite her better judgment, she stopped and acknowledged him. “It really doesn’t matter what I want. If you wanted to smoke, I was being polite and letting you know how you can accomplish that. But I think it’s a disgusting habit. It ruins your teeth, your lungs, and your skin. You stink and you make everything around you smell.”
“Had I lit my cigarette, would you have stayed or gone back into the hotel and rejoined your party?” He took another step closer to her.
At his close proximity, she caught his intoxicating scent that reminded her of the outdoors, like honeysuckle and fresh-cut grass. “If you had smoked, I probably would have moved to another spot out here or gone back inside.”
“What if I wanted you to stay?” He inched in closer. “You know. For conversation. Would you?”
Taren returned his direct stare with one of her own. She wanted him to see that she wouldn’t be bossed around, at least not by him. She’d had fantasies about being a submissive for a strong dominant man. No matter how fine she found this man, he had another thing coming if he thought he could rule her.
“No, I wouldn’t.” She hoped she sounded convincing.
He looked like he struggled to not smile. “Interesting.” He sauntered to her. “You have a mind of your own, but you’re accommodating. You stand strong in your convictions, but can be yielding.”
Taren remained in her spot, but her knees knocked together so hard she felt her body shaking.
“You would make a good—” He glanced up at the doorway going into the hotel. “Have to go. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He continued to the hotel. On his way, he tossed the crushed cigarette into a nearby trash bin.
With him inside, Taren exhaled and braced her hands on her knees. It felt like she had been in a boxing match with this man for twelve rounds. She ran her hand over her hair and down her black sheath dress before going back into the hotel. Taren made it to the ballroom in time to see a picture of her sparring partner on the screen behind the podium.
Had she known she’d been in the presence of one of the nominees, she would have not argued with him. Who was she kidding? Taren loved to prove a point to a fault. Sometimes that trait frustrated her parents. Taren couldn’t help it.
Taren didn’t even go to her parents’ table. She moved off to the side to see who would win.
A pale woman with jet-black hair in a bob stood at the podium holding an envelope with a gold seal to close the flap. “Now I understand why celebrities get so nervous opening these things.” She waved the envelope in the air.
A ripple of laughter filled the conference room. Taren didn’t find the statement amusing. Looking at the way her mystery man kept his face hard, he didn’t appear amused either.
“And the award goes to…” She opened the flap and pulled out a red card. “Titus Breckenridge!”
Taren looked at the man she’d shared a passionate exchange with only moments before. He remained seated. He didn’t even clap for the winner. She would have taken the lack of response as him being a sore loser. A strong, capable looking man like that didn’t seem like he lost a lot of things.
A rotund man waddled up to the podium to accept the award. He shook the woman’s hand first before making his speech. “Good evening. I’m thrilled and humbled to be named Builder of the Year by the Hampton Roads Builder Association.”
A rousing applause filled the expansive ballroom. Taren kept her arms down by her sides. She couldn’t believe that one of the nominees had been the same man who’d made her knees knock together. He hadn’t said anything when she’d voiced her displeasure about attending the ceremony. He’d listened to her.
Come on, girl. He wasn’t taking you seriously.
Taren shook her head and continued listening to Titus’s speech.
“I want to start by thanking my family for providing me the stable foundation to create my incredible business.” He paused before continuing. “My mother has always believed in me.”
Taren watched the award loser glance at the older woman next to him like he wanted to spout those same words to her had he won.
“But I must admit. I’m luckier than most.” He chuckled. “It helps to have a father who is also in the business and helped paved my way to the top, both emotionally and financially.” He stared at an attractive African-American woman sitting in the crowd. “And now I have a woman who is by my side and is my rock in every way.”
Taren glanced at her courtyard mate. He dropped his gaze to the table before he bolted to his feet and headed to the back of the room.
Taren took that as her cue to leave. She knew her night had ended poorly when she wanted to root for a man who had tried to define her within five minutes of meeting her.
She darted to the table to get her purse.
“You’re just in time for the speech,” Connie said as she pulled out Taren’s chair.
“…With supportive parents and the love of my life, I feel like I can conquer the world.” The speaker made a point of glancing at Taren like he’d made the statement to her.
Damn. Was the whole world against her?
“I’m not feeling so hot.” She turned to her mother. “Nothing serious. I’ll get a cab. I’ll meet you two at home.” She kissed Connie on her cheek and gave Del a hug before leaving.
Life for Taren would have to be better once she got out on her own. Then she would show everyone who doubted her that she could make her own way.
Chapter Two
Taren sat at the edge of her couch, breathless. Anticipation coursed through her body, tingling her bare toes that sank in the shag rug covering the hardwood floors in her apartment. She wiggled her digits between the long brown, white, and tan yarns as she kept her attention fixed to the flat-screen TV on the living room wall.
She didn’t care that the show,
Love My Way
, hadn’t been on the air in over five years. Each time she viewed it, the show and its characters all seemed real to her.
No, not characters. Real people. Real situations. Real life.
She wrapped her arm around her waist and used her free hand to draw a curl into her mouth, a nervous habit she hadn’t done since she played with Barbie dolls. Her flesh felt electrified the longer she watched the action.
At the next to the last episode in her streaming subscription queue, she crossed her legs, knowing exactly what would be happening. Eagan Morton would be having his way with the final two contestants, Begonia and Sunny.
The editors had been clever with the surveillance camera footage. Only Eagan and the contestants’ facial expressions were shown. Since the show did appear on Cine-tastic, she got to see the women naked and Eagan’s firm backside as he thrust in and out of Begonia.
For Taren, that had been enough. She didn’t need to see Eagan’s face. She focused more on his body and the women. Did they like it? Did they want it? Did they want him? From their satisfied expression, she stopped questioning their motives.
He had them secured differently. He had Sunny on an overhead bar and Begonia on a table. That didn’t prevent him from bringing them both to orgasm several times over. Taren kept her attention on the women’s faces.
Sunny closed her eyes and arched her back whenever Eagan had touched her. Taren imagined that Eagan’s large hands made her feel captured and controlled. Begonia already had carried the look of love in her eyes. The way she stared at Eagan made Taren’s stomach churn harder and faster than a circus acrobat. In a subtle move, she brushed her hand that she’d had on her waist over her now hardened nipples. The touch alone caused her body to tremble.
With each stroke and flick she tried recalling the last time she had allowed a man to do that to her, to touch her, to make her come over and over again. She could handle herself with ease, and had in the past too many times to count.
Although Eagan looked like a movie star and had the swagger of ten Donald Trumps, Taren didn’t pine over him, only his actions. His look hadn’t enamored her, although Eagan would have no problem seducing any woman he wanted into his bed. She liked seeing him take control. The fact that the person he played with had been African American like her had her even more intrigued with the lifestyle.
As much as he hated to admit it to herself, she kept thinking about that man she ran into at the builders event a couple of weeks ago. His eyes, those hands, that cleft in his masculine chin. He looked like walking sex. Until he’d spoken and tried telling her about herself, she had seriously thought about giving him her number. Although the man could star in many of her fantasies, she had no interest in seeing him in person again.
She cupped her breast and released a low moan the longer she watched the trio at work on TV. She brushed her thumb over her hardened nipple as she stared at him as he thrust, slow at first, then faster and faster. He used his large hands to grip thighs and asses.
Even from her spot on her couch, Taren felt like Eagan controlled her. He made her remain still in her position, watching him, wanting him. Her breathing hitched each time the women on TV screamed or moaned.