Finally, he slid out of her. Breathing hard, she clasped his head to her belly.
“Glad I brought you home,” she said. “My goodness.”
“We aim to please.”
She nudged him to turn over, onto his back. Soft carpet fibers brushed his skin.
She fondled his erection. “You wanna fuck me?”
Until now, she had spoken in formal language. Hearing her talk dirty turned him on even more.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Say it.”
“I wanna fuck you.”
“You think you can handle this?”
“Watch me.” He reached for his slacks, to get some protection out of his wallet.
“Stay there.” She straddled him, fished a condom out of her purse.
“Good girl,” he said.
“A lady’s always prepared. Although we would have beautiful babies.”
“You ain’t never lied.”
She placed the condom between her lips. Bending, she used her lips and tongue to tenderly roll the condom over him. She laid her tongue on his belly, ran it up to his neck in a warm line.
He fondled her breasts. Traced circles across the rigid nipples.
She rose, put him inside her. Her muscles closed around him like a hot vise.
“So tight.” The words burst out of him.
“You like it that way, baby?” She ground her pelvis in an excruciatingly slow figure eight. It snatched a gasp out of him.
“You’ve never had any pussy like this,” she said. “Have you?”
“No,” he said in a weak voice.
“Say it!”
“Never had any pussy like yours.”
“That’s my boy.” She swiveled in a wide circle.
He raised his hands to massage her breasts. She snared his wrists, pinned them against the floor.
“You’re my prisoner now.” She kissed his neck, rose and looked at him with an intense gaze. “You’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”
“If being a prisoner feels this good, I don’t wanna go anywhere.”
She began to grind again, her muscles clenching him like a warm, damp fist. He’d never felt anything quite like it; her control was amazing. He rocked with her; they found a comfortable rhythm and kept it.
“Look at me,” she said.
He looked up at her. Stared into her shining eyes.
“That’s my baby.” Moaning, she ground faster. Squeezed him tight.
He felt such a powerful eruption building it seemed it would shatter his body like a vase. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes.
“Look at me, look at me,” she said. “Want to see your eyes, those pretty brown eyes.”
He opened his eyes. Tears began to flood his vision, stream down his cheeks.
“Oh, Mika . . . damn . . .”
“Look at me!”
Gazing into her eyes, he thrust into her so deeply it felt as if she might suck his entire body inside her womb. She matched his thrusts and drew him even farther inside her. He was drowning in her.
“Mika, oh . . .”
“Look at me, look at me, look at me!”
Their gazes locked.
The orgasm hit him like a lightning bolt. It knocked him flat on his back and tore a cry out of his throat.
She continued to ride him, milking every ounce out of him, her gaze never leaving his face.
“Yes, yes, Andrew, baby, yes, yes, give it all to me, all of it, baby, pour into me.”
He kept pumping into her, like a piston.
“All of it . . . all of you,” she said.
He emptied himself at last. He dropped against the floor. Panting. Sweat slicked his body.
She finally released his wrists and slid onto the carpet beside him.
Their labored breathing was the only sound in the room.
He heard traffic in the distance, other people driving to homes and bedrooms.
Although they lay on the floor, with no cushions, he didn’t want to move. He was as comfortable as if he were reclining on a plump mattress with silk sheets.
She rested her hand on his chest. He twisted his fingers through her hair.
“Never felt anything thing like that before,” he said. “Ever.”
She was quiet, contemplative.
“I saw something, Andrew,” she said.
“What’d you see?”
“We had a moment of truth.”
“Come again?”
“You’ve got them.”
“Got what?”
She touched his chin, turned his face toward hers. He had been expecting a humorous comment, but her expression was serious.
“Soul mate eyes,” she said.
He didn’t know what to say. He answered her with a kiss. And the kiss started things all over again.
They moved throughout the suite, from the entry hall floor to a sofa, from the sofa to the dining room, from the dining room to, finally, the bedroom.
Mika was by far the best lover he’d ever had: assertive yet compliant, gentle yet firm. Intuitively, she knew what he liked, and he had a sixth sense for what turned her on, too. Together, their energy was boundless.
To think he’d considered declining her invitation to come to her room. He would’ve missed out on the most amazing night of his life.
They lay together in a tangle of perspiration-dampened sheets. The air conditioner churned out waves of refreshing, cool air. A jasmine-scented candle burned on a nightstand, making the bedroom flicker in light and shadow, like a place in a dream.
She curled her leg against his. “You never responded to my discovery, Andrew.”
“About what?”
“Don’t play the fool. It doesn’t suit you. You know what I mean.”
“If you think I have soul mate eyes, I just don’t know how to answer that. I mean, it’s flattering.”
“Merely flattering?”
He sounded lame. But what did she expect him to say? That he believed she was his soul mate, too? He’d met her less than twenty-four hours ago.
“I don’t have the same philosophy you do about soul mates,” he said.
“Meaning?”
“For me, it takes more than looking into a woman’s eyes at a moment of truth or whatever to know whether she’s my soul mate. I need to spend time with her, get to know her as a friend and a lover.”
“How much time?”
“As long as it takes. Can’t put a deadline on it.”
“Have you ever experienced anything like what you experienced with me this evening?”
He chuckled. “Hell, no.”
“So doesn’t that count for something?”
“It counts for a lot. But a relationship is based on more than great sex.”
She sighed. “You’re right. But you’re wrong.”
“How am I wrong?”
“Certainly, a relationship is more than fantastic sex. But it doesn’t take long for a man to figure out whether a woman is the one.”
“I never said you weren’t the one. But I need more time to get to know you. We’ve known each other for only a day, Mika.”
“Stop thinking so analytically. Listen to your heart. The heart has its own time frame.”
“Right.” He dragged his hand down his face.
She raised her elbow, propped her head on her hand. “I’ve upset you.”
“Let’s talk about this later, okay?”
“Agreed.” She laid her head on the pillow. “Tell me. Have you ever been in love?”
“Yeah.”
“When was the last time?”
“Couple of years ago.”
“Why did it end?”
“Her job sent her to London, and she wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon, and I didn’t want to move overseas. So we called it quits.”
“How did you feel?”
“Terrible. Like my life was over.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” She shivered. “I don’t know anything more painful than suffering a broken heart.”
He took one of her hands in his. “What about you?”
“It’s been many years since I was in love. My fiancé was murdered.”
He raised his head. “Are you serious?”
Her eyes sad, she nodded.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “Who did it? Were they arrested?”
“No one was ever brought to justice. I know who was responsible for it, though he never admitted it. My father.”
“Your own father?”
“As I said at dinner, my father was wealthy, a respected physician. He paid someone to kill the man whom I loved.”
“Why the hell would he do something like that?”
“I was an only child, Andrew. I was going to inherit my father’s estate. If I married, of course, my husband would have substantial influence in the matters of the estate, as well. My father didn’t approve of the man I loved.”
“Why?”
“My father was a horrible bigot. He was a white man, the worst kind of Southern cracker, as some people call them. My fiancé was black. For a time, we hid our relationship from my father. You can imagine his reaction when he finally discovered that we planned to marry.
“He didn’t want a black man marrying into his money,” Andrew said.
“He was a cruel man. I know it sounds awful to say this, but I’m glad that he’s dead. I’ll never forgive him.”
She trembled. He pulled her into his arms and held her.
She wept softly against his chest.
“All I want,” she said, “is to feel love like that again. Needing love . . . hoping for it . . . it’s kept me alive.”
“Shhh. Everything’s going to be all right.” She was so beautiful that it was easy to assume she’d lived a charmed life of luxuries and endless blessings. But everyone had scars, some of which never faded.
He found himself wanting to be the one who she could love again. Wanting her to be the one for him, too. Although it had been two years since he had been in love, it felt as if it had been so long ago that it might have been in another life.
But he’d known her for only one day. He couldn’t throw open the floodgates of his heart, not yet, even if he’d wanted to do so. Rushing into a relationship never had been his style. He liked to gradually move deeper inside, gaining confidence with every slow step, letting the emotional barriers fall as he progressed. The journey took time. And sometimes he decided that it wasn’t worth the effort and withdrew.
He would have to be careful with her. She’d lost her fiancé, probably had never recovered from the trauma, and talked as if she craved love the same way other people craved food. She’d passionately shared her body with him. To top it off, she’d announced that he had “soul mate eyes.”
The humming air conditioner couldn’t produce cool air fast enough to dry the fresh sweat that beaded his forehead.
What if he wasn’t able to reciprocate her feelings? He didn’t want to hurt her, was loathe to lead her on.
But you slept with her. You’ve done a pretty fine job of leading her on, Andrew. I warned you to take it slow. It’s too late to have second thoughts.
She turned onto her side. She pulled his arm across her body, placed his hand on her breasts.
“Hold me,” she said.
He scooted up to her, so that they lay together like spoons. She purred, like a contented cat.
Maybe she
was
his soul mate. Maybe he only needed to wake up to a truth that she had already glimpsed, catch her vision. In matters of the heart, women usually were more intuitive than men.
Maybe he would look at her one day and realize that she had soul mate eyes, too.
The next morning, Andrew awoke to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
He sat up, rubbed his eyes. Grayish daylight filtered through the bay windows.
It took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He was in Mika’s suite at the Ritz-Carlton.
He was alone in the bedroom. He heard sizzling sounds; the scent of bacon wafted to his nose, making his stomach growl.
He checked the time. The clock on the nightstand read 8:12.
On any other Wednesday, he’d be finishing his workout by now and getting ready for breakfast. His schedule was shot for the day.
But it didn’t bother him, since it was for a good reason. The memory of last night sent a warm tingle through his body.
He pulled away the sheets. He’d slept in the nude.
A set of blue men’s silk pajamas lay on a chair beside the bed, with matching house slippers.
“Hmm, how thoughtful.” He dressed in the pajamas and wandered into the bathroom.