Finding Opa! Page 5

  Hunter felt quite the opposite. For just one evening, without knowing it, she was saving him from the boredom that they fondly spoke of.

  As a light drizzle of rain began, Stacey and Hunter headed back to her apartment. With every block, Hunter felt a tightness in his chest. He wanted more time with her. Their next date was scheduled for next week. Doubting he could wait that long, he sifted through his schedule in his mind. Who could he cancel? What could he do to see her sooner?

  Stacey walked closer than before to him. In stride with each other, she reached out her hand and slid into his strong embrace. There was something about him that seemed familiar. And nothing felt familiar about men anymore. Ever since Drew passed, she felt alone in the world, like no one understood her. But Hunter did.

  He looked down as he took her hand in his own. Her warm lingers felt good. Squeezing her lightly, he pulled it up to his mouth and kissed it.

  “You’re a good man, Hunter,” she said softly.

  The lyrical tone of her voice sounded like music to his ears. It had been a long time since a woman had given him such a kind yet sincere compliment.

  The rain began to pour heavily when they arrived at her apartment. Unlocking the door, she almost invited him in. Almost. Opening the door, she turned, looked up into his jewel green eyes, fluttering under heavy, tired lashes and sighed. “Thanks for tonight,” she said, coming to grips with the fact that it had to end.

  “No, thank you,” he said, stepping closer. “Look, I know that we said that we’d do this once a week, but I was really hoping that I could see you tomorrow.” He waited.

  Stacey shrugged in a tiny, delicate motion that drew attention to the slim column of her neck. “I have to write most of the day, but we could catch dinner afterwards, if you like.”

  “That sounds nice,” he said, inching closer.

  “Jeans and t-shirt type of dinner?” she asked, her voice cracked.

  “Definitely.” His voice was lower now, even more seductive.

  Unable to help himself, Hunter lifted her delicate chin up and cupped her oval face in his hands. How beautiful she was. What a sight to behold. Her brown smooth skin felt like satin, hot and alive, perfectly toned like the rest of her, free of blemishes, full of youth.

  Running his thumb over her face, he was able to admire even closer the perfect shape of her nose, her high cheek bones and her heart-shaped mouth. A small and tempting mole was right above her velvety, plump and pouty lips. Big brown eyes stared up at him, covered by dense black lashes, speaking to him with their eager curiosity. Stacey Lane Bryant was a work of art, fit to be painted, to be written about, to be loved.

  His breath washed against her face as he drew closer. He could feel her body shaking, trembling under his very touch. Her eyes danced with excitement, her warm mouth parted, ready for a kiss. How could he disappoint her? How could he disappoint himself?

  His mouth met hers with a soft kiss first, tasting the sweetness on her wet and inviting lips. But as his hands moved to the back of her head and tangled into her long dreadlocks, their embrace became more passionate.

  Pushing against her firm breasts, he snaked comfortably around her, shielding her body from view with his large frame. The euphoria of being in a woman’s embrace ignited a fire inside of him. He had missed this about life. He had missed what it was like to hold a woman, to enjoy her company, to bask in her beauty.

  Fervently, she kissed him back, moaning a little as she fell into him and let her hands run over his concrete chest. Sucking on his bottom lip, she felt her body quake as his delicious tongue mingled with her own.

  They kissed for several minutes, forgetting where they were or how long they had been there. It was as if they were making love as sensual sensations filled them both to the brim. Having denied themselves this blessed experience for so long, it was hard to stop, and they knew it would be even more impossible to recover.

  Finally, as the heat began to rush in places that Hunter knew would be inappropriate for tonight, he pulled away regretfully from her embrace.

  Opening her eyes and resting off her tip toes, Stacey looked up at him amazed. No one had ever kissed her like that, or maybe it had been so long until she could not remember anymore what a kiss even felt like. But one thing was for sure, she did not want to ever forget again.

  “Tomorrow for sure,” she said, leaning against the door.

  “I cannot wait,” he said, licking his lips. “I better go.” He stepped away from her. “Good night.”

  Stacey smiled. “Good night, Hunter.”

  Chapter Five

  After Hunter left the night before, Stacey sat in front of her computer in her purple pajamas with a glass of white wine and typed feverishly for many hours until her eyes would not stay open. The characters had changed in her mind. The conversations. The plot. It all took on new life so much so that she ended up changing the entire premise of the novel.

  When she finally awoke the next morning, she was still in front of her computer with her head buried in her hands on her desk. Her neck felt like it had a hundred kinks in it, but she was so grateful for the inspiration until she would not complain.

  Dragging herself to the kitchen, she made a pot of hazelnut coffee and went out on the balcony to take in the fresh air. The crisp dawn felt good to her skin. And the sky was blessedly clear, like God was rewarding her for trying again. As the winds blew past her, she closed her eyes and smiled.

  She could not believe it. Hunter’s plan was working, at least for her. Passion. Love. Excitement. Things that had long burned out in her mind were now undeniably present. And it had all started with his marvelous kiss.

  His full lips flashed through her mind again for the hundredth time. His precious kiss had tasted so sweet, so full of virility. It made her think of what he must be like in bed. He made her think of sex.

  Their agreement was still iron-clad as far as she was concerned. However, he made it harder for her to stick by with his strong capable hands that had searched her neck while he kissed her, embraced her body and aroused her to her soul.

  ***

  Hunter kept looking at his watch as he sat in his office reading over Mrs. Clementine’s file. Why did it seem that today of all days, the time wanted to inch by? Frustrated, he took the pen from the pocket of his smock and wrote something down then closed the manila folder and pushed it away from him.

  “Something the matter?” his sister asked, coming into the office behind him.

  Hunter looked up and straightened in his seat. “No. I just have something to do tonight.”

  “Something to do?” she asked curiously. “Does it involve a woman?”

  Hunter smiled and stuck the pen behind his ear. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it does.” The thought of Stacey made him smile.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Who is she? Someone I know?” Hanna asked, grabbing a seat.

  “You could say that. She’s a patient.”

  Hanna was suddenly quiet as ethical issues crossed her mind. “Did you see her?”

  “No. Well, I almost did, but then I referred her to you. Stacey Bryant. She came in the other day as a new patient.”

  Hanna frowned. It was surely not who she thought it was. “The black woman?” she asked.

  “Yes, the black woman,” Hunter said, shaking his head. Leave it to her to make that an issue. He had not gone on a date or seen a woman in two years, and the only thing that she could focus on was the color of her skin.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. You’ve just never dated anyone who wasn’t Greek,” she said defensively.

  Hanna could instantly feel his resistance to her statement. She countered with a fake smile, trying to cover her hesitation. Maybe this was simply his way of moving back into the dating scene. Having known him all of her life, she recognized the frown lines in his perfectly tanned skin and tried to retract her statement. After all that he had gone through, the last thing that she wanted to do was discourage him.

  Hunter
could not deny his sister a pardon. “Stacey and I have a mutual understanding. She lost her husband a few years ago, too. We just both need someone right now. I can’t expect you to understand completely. You’ve got Jack. But I’m getting older and even lonelier. Some part of me needs this.” His voice was solemn.

  Hanna and Hunter were two years apart in age with Hunter being the oldest. The two had a very close relationship. They had gone to college together, defied their parents together and so much more. Out of the four children of their family, the two were the closest. In fact, she had mourned for Corina nearly as hard as her brother.

  After all, they had all three been friends. It was because of their connection that she had always been so protective over him. Maybe too protective.

  “Well, if she’s what you need right now, I fully support you,” she lied. “Let’s just keep this from Mom and Dad.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes. “You know, I never realized that we were prejudice until right now.” His finger pointed down on the table.

  One of the nurses walked past their door and politely closed it shut. Evidently, their conversation was floating into the rest of the clinic, which could potentially be bad for business. Both of them looked over at the door and moaned.

  “We’re not prejudice, Hunter. Dad is just pro-Greek,” Hanna explained, wishing that she had never broached the subject. It was not her business anyway.

  “Right,” Hunter said, standing up. “I’ve got work to do. Just do me a favor, will you? Let me decide what is best for me. I know how you are and how you like to interject your own opinions in my life. In the past, some of the time, it was helpful. But I doubt with this particular situation that you could offer any useful insight.”

  Opening the door, he looked over at her one last time and made a motion over his lips like he was zipping them.

  ***

  Valerie was absolutely ecstatic. Holding the pages that she had printed of Stacey’s latest story, she paced from side-to-side of her Manhattan office and sang her praises.

  “It is truly your best work yet, Stacey,” Valerie said, stopping at her desk to put the manuscript down.

  “You think?” Stacey asked, writing notes on her notepad while they talked on speakerphone.

  “I know so. However, I wasn’t expecting an interracial twist. That is something new.”

  “My readers could be disappointed. I know, but right now, that is just the direction that I’m going.”

  “Well, truthfully, African-American women are reading more and more interracial novels. And many are dating outside of their race. You’re just keeping up with the times. It’s damned near mainstream,” Valerie said, trying not to upset Stacey. If it was a problem later, they would handle it when they got to it. For now, she didn’t foresee anything but seven-figure dollar signs.

  “Great,” Stacey answered, releasing a heavy sigh of relief.

  “So where did your motivation come from? Anyone in particular?” Valerie held the phone. Could it be that Stacey had turned in her hermit card? She hoped so. The two had been friends, sort of, for a few years, and since Drew’s death, she had witnessed Stacey nearly give up on life.

  Stacey laughed. “Let’s just say that I took your advice.”

  “His name?”

  “Hunter,” Stacey answered quickly.

  “His profession?”

  “Doctor.” She sounded proud, as if she had picked the cream of the crop.

  “Wow, I’m impressed.” Valerie waved in her assistant and looked at her watch. It was time to call to another author. Time was money, friend or not. “So we’re still on schedule then?”

  “Absolutely,” Stacey said, knowing what the pause in Val’s voice meant.

  “Wonderful. Well, I’ll talk to you soon, doll. Be good. I can’t wait to read the rest of this amazing story. It’s a hit!”

  “Thanks,” Stacey said, hanging up the phone.

  Rapture was there by Stacey’s side as soon as the line went dead, begging for her complete attention. Picking him up, she tucked him into her embrace and looked at her computer screen full of words that only days ago were not imaginable. She felt as if she could type all the rest of the evening, but she had to get ready for her date.

  Her cat could feel her sudden detachment and purred for her attention. Nudging his head under her neck, he begged for a hug.

  “I still love you, kitty,” Stacey said, feeling his sadness.

  However, Stacey was even more excited about seeing Hunter than Valerie was about receiving her new manuscript. All day long the wheels in her head had been turning, not only about her story, but also about tonight. She felt high on life. It was almost scary. If it weren’t for their arrangement, she might have boxed up her emotions and ran, but at least now, she was safeguarded in some way from a broken heart…hopefully.

  ***

  Hunter hit the gym harder than normal. He had to do something to rid himself of the sexual frustration that seemed to be ripping into his every thought.

  One would have imagined, considering his profession, that the female form would be old to him by now, less exhilarating, less exciting, and before Stacey, it had been. But the taste of her lips the night before had awakened him and the beast inside of his cob-webbed libido.

  Pushing the speed button on the treadmill, he accelerated his run. Faster, Harder. Stronger. He needed more of everything. Sweat poured down his face and neck onto his gray t-shirt. His calf muscles burned and his arms tightened. Maybe if he exhausted himself physically, he would be too tired tonight to think of every inch of Stacey’s body. Plus, it would be much harder to control his desires while on their date if he did not take matters into his own hands…literally.

  A thought about Stacey trying to masturbate unsuccessfully crossed his mind, and he laughed aloud.

  The woman beside Hunter looked over at him curiously.

  “Sorry,” he said, turning up his MP3 player.

  Their arrangement was going to be harder than he had originally thought. True, he had been attracted to her since the moment that he laid eyes on her, but he had never imagined that she would taste so sweet, smell so fragrant, feel so good under his fingertips.

  How long had it been? Forever. Sex had become a thought of what used to be in his life – when he had one. There had not been one other woman since his wife died. In the past, old girlfriends called and dropped by without notice to try to comfort him. Colleagues offered it at conferences like it was candy. Random, nameless women suggested it every time that he was at the bar, but no matter who it was, there was a wall blocking him from exploring what sex would be like with another woman.

  Now the thoughts that had been suppressed due the trauma of his wife’s sudden passing were back and if possible, stronger. And they were leading him around like he was a lost puppy dog.

  Nevertheless, he had to remember himself with Stacey, because she obviously trusted him more than he trusted himself. The way that she shared the most intimate details of her life let him know that she was unsure of how to function in the dating scene, just like him. With their significant others, they had been open books, and after they had died, both he and Stacey had completely shut down. Now that they were trying to open up again, even if for just a while, there would be little room for games or lies.

  Chapter Six

  Stacey had never enjoyed kissing a man so much. Leaning against his chest, as they watched television on her couch, she felt completely safe in his embrace. A quiet, Sunday afternoon passed as they sat cuddled up together by the fireplace and quizzed each other on the Brat pack. The Breakfast Club played on the television as they watched each other and reminisced about the 80’s.

  Under heavy lashes, Hunter went in and out of consciousness after half a bottle of wine and a bowl of extra greasy buttered popcorn.

  “Am I too heavy?” Stacey asked, placing her hand on the side of the sofa to push herself up.

  Hunter’s eyes flashed open as she tried to move. Grabbing her wais
t, he pulled her back down on him. “No, you’re as light as a feather,” he said, opening his legs to push her down in between them. “Don’t go.” His voice was tranquil and content.

  Smiling, she snuggled back down between his legs and hummed, happy as a lark. They both wore their college t-shirts and gray cotton jogging pants, which added to their lazy day comfort. His bare feet rubbed against Rapture, who had settled down at the end of the couch near them.