Finding Opa! Page 7

  The sound of water splashing mixed with her soft, feminine moans and the dimness of the room in candlelight entranced him. Her wet hair slapped against his skin like whips. Her graceful body smacked against him as she moved around turned on past his wildest dreams. He literally had to hold on to her as he fondled her. She was completely turned on, ready to do whatever he wanted.

  Rock hard and dying to be inside of her, he replaced his eager fingers with his needy cock. His swollen head pulsed as he entered her. Her wetness slicked her lips even in the water, making his admittance even more paralyzing. Zingers shot through both of them.

  She screamed aloud as her body stretched then wrapped tight around his hungry erection. Hard suction swallowed him up into her body and her thighs locked him in for the ride. Stacey threw back her head and arched her back further, screaming out as she looked up to the ceiling. Her sandy dreads felt down between them, cloaking her back. He moved her hair quickly then ran his hand down her spine.

  She was darker naked. Parts of her body were as deep brown as molasses and as sweet. He wanted to taste every inch of her. Kissing her shoulder, he felt her adjust herself to his need. He waited patiently before he began his invasion of her body, looking for all the signs to let him know that she was ready. Resting his head back on the back of the tub, he guided her down with his grip. His hands clutched her tiny waist, squeezing her body tight.

  “Hunter,” she called out as her back arched and her legs positioned themselves to take all of him.

  With seriousness in his face, he focused as his hips moved from side to side, wedging his heated flesh into her folds. Suddenly and without warning, the magnificent thrusting began. The water splashed as her body moved up and down against him. She shuddered under his power, feeling the need and heat build within her thighs.

  Lifting her and pulling her down, he growled as he watched her submit. Her hands were at first firmly placed to hold herself up, but with each blow to her core, they became weaker. But Hunter was hungry for more than just her backside. He wanted to see her face; he wanted to feel her body against his.

  Turning around, she sat on top of him again. He found her breasts quickly, suckling one in between his lips and squeezing the other. Looking into her eyes, he invaded her again, this time slowly when he felt her swollen womb tighten around him.

  Her gaze was devastating. Free of lipstick, her wide pouty mouth opened to call his name again, but he quickly found her lips and kissed her. He had never kissed such a full mouth. He had never made love to such dark skin. He had never done a lot of things he was about to do.

  Their tongues played back and forth as she straddled him. Years of riding a bike proved an advantage as she held her position. Powerfully, she moved atop of him as he watched in amazement of her sexual transformation.

  The fact that she had opened up this far to him was mind-blowing. The fact that she had broken her own rules for him, showed that he had finally earned her trust, but there was more than just trust working here. Since he’d started seeing her, the nightmares were fewer, his mind was more at peace and he knew it all was because of her. Awash with raw emotion and on fire for her, he realized that she had become everything to him.

  Cupping her face, in his hands he confessed. “I love you,” he whispered against her skin. His eyes flickered in the darkness – the fire behind them ablaze.

  Her mouth quivered. “I love you, too,” she said as tears began to fall.

  They embraced each other tightly, still locked together in their love making. The weight of their actions began to ground them, pull them from the cloud that they had floated up to.

  Picking her up out of the water, he carried her soaking wet out to the bed. He had just wondered about what it would be like to make love to her here, now he would find out. The thought pushed him into a sweet euphoria.

  Anxiously, she lay against the comforter with soap still on her skin playing with herself as he watched. She was spirited; he’d give her that, and for the first time, he could see all of her. Her long legs were carved to perfection. Wide hips, tight muscles, impeccable calves, perfect feet. He ran his hands over her in amazement. Her stomach was lined with muscle, her toned arms powerful from riding her bike, her breasts sat up perky, full and inviting. And her vagina was pampered and clean shaven, shaped into a heavenly v. It was the most beautiful vagina that he’d ever seen, and he was a doctor.

  Looking up at him, she opened her arms to receive him as he fell into her embrace again. The ceiling fan above chilled their skin as they kissed. Rolling around in the bed, they explored each other’s bodies as they went from one position to the next.

  He was amazed with her agility and how she seemed to like sex. It had been his experience that many women did not, either because the man was inexperienced or the woman had no penchant for it. However, his Stacey was wild with desire. And now that she had let her guard down, she had no problem showing how much she liked it.

  Laughing, she threw her head back as he nestled his face in her breasts. Her giggle made him smile. Throwing her leg over him, she called his name playfully. His hips rolled in a smooth motion between her thighs that sent waves of ecstasy through her trembling body.

  This was what he had missed. This was the part of life that he had denied himself, but it was well worth the wait. To be with a woman so in touch with what she wanted, so open, so giving was worth never touching another woman again.

  Her waist moved around as she pushed him inside of her, making sure to not leave an inch of his thick, pulsing manhood out of her body. She bit her pouty lips and sucked in a breath as she took him, pumping and prodding at her in every way.

  Holding him close, she looked into his eyes and kissed him. She knew also that her own climax was upon them. However, something would not allow them to part.

  The heat began to course through his veins, crippling his ability to move. He felt the ache down in his core as he pumped into her. A vein stuck out of his neck as he strained. His seed prepared to push out, but he could not refuse himself the primitive desire that begged louder than his reason. Take her, it said to him. Take her now.

  As she arched her back and screamed, liquid heat exploded through her body. Her supple breasts pointed out and long hair fell down on his legs. Her body shook with great but waning power, and she nearly collapsed on top of him.

  Never had anything felt so primitive, so right. He gritted his teeth and grabbed her. Her body shook with the force of his thrusts as he grasped her hips, pulling back to meet each one. He knew then that he should have pulled out, but he did not want to. He pumped harder, faster, gritting his teeth as he let out a loud masculine moan. Into her body, he felt himself rush like a hot wave of white foam on the beach above him. Suddenly he thought of their walk along the Alki and could hear the waves crashing against the earth.

  It may have been that she was in ecstasy or that she felt the same as he did, but she did not stop him. Instead, she kissed his mouth and held on to his throbbing body below, extracting every last ounce of him.

  After the transfer of everything that they had both physically and emotionally, he looked into her eyes, panting and speechless. What had he just done and why didn’t he care? He looked at her body attached to his and wondered as he tried to repress a deviant smile.

  Tears sprang from her eyes as her mouth quivered. She too had felt the jolt of love and belonging that they both had been denied and had in returned denied themselves finally return after so many years.

  Pulling her to him, he hugged her tightly, rubbing her back and whispering soft, calming words in to her ear. He meant them all. I love you. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

  How’s that for slowish? he thought to himself as she laid on top of him naked and trembling. It was more like fools rush in, and he and Stacey were first through the finish line.

  Chapter Seven

  As the fresh Horiatiki salad was passed to her, Hanna sat under the inquisition of her mother and father about her br
other and ate her very uncomfortable meal. This was the sixth Sunday that Hunter had not shown up for dinner, leaving her alone with the vultures. And the feeling around the room was divisively ominous. She debated back and forth with her thoughts. Should she tell them all the truth? Their son was neglecting his family, because he was involved in a relationship with a black woman. She rolled her eyes. Absolutely incredible.

  Hunter had been the president of the Young Greeks of Seattle, the prime pick of their social circle from middle school until the day he had married Corina. And their family had even been disapproving of her, a full-bloodied Greek from a lower socio-economic class than the Fourakis family. They expected him to damn near marry royalty. Why they had always been like that, she had no idea, but they were a pretentious clan as were many of their family friends.

  For as long as she could remember, Hunter had always been a proud Greek American, always ranting and raving about the permanent contributions that their culture had given to the world. Now, he was seriously dating a woman who by all standards of their family was beneath them. She wondered was he doing this to spite them all or if he had actually fallen for the woman. He claimed that she had something that he needed. Sex? Companionship? Only God knew.

  “Is something the matter?” Dr. Fourakis asked his youngest daughter as he sat at the head of the table watching her suspiciously. He had a knack for knowing when something wasn’t right with his children, specifically Hanna.

  Hanna gave a weak smile and picked up the salad dressing. “No, what would make you say that, Papa?”

  “You seem distant,” Mrs. Fourakis chimed in. “And where is your brother? You have to know what is going on with the boy. Is he depressed again? You know how he gets during this time of the year. He should really go back to see the therapist. He needs to talk to someone.”

  Paris, the eldest brother, nodded but did not answer. Mirroring his brother’s handsome face with streaks of silver in his hair and even more refinement in his poise, he sat and listened with a keen ear then looked over at his sister, Rhea, a heavier-set image of Hanna, who sat up straight with the wine glass perched to her plum-colored lips.

  Paris and Rhea were not the matriarch and patriarch of the family, but it was easy to confuse them with the two. Seasoned doctors of prestige with a long line of letters behind their names, over 300 published studies, articles and academic papers between the two of them, they had taken on the role as the eldest of the children with a certain amount of seriousness that could not be easily ignored.

  “He’s always been far too emotional for my taste,” Paris said absently of Hunter.

  “He was coddled too much as a child,” Rhea reiterated. It had been her argument for years to the family.

  “Or not enough.” Hanna rolled her eyes. She hated their sanctimonious bull crap. Why would anyone want to come here and visit, only to be ridiculed the entire time?

  “And you’ve always taken up for him far too much,” Rhea said with a nasty snarl to Hanna.

  “He’s becoming a hermit,” Dr. Fourakis said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I invited him to help with the festival this year, but he said that he had things to do.” He said so with a chuckle as if the boy had no life outside of work.

  “Honestly, he gets worse each year. You would think that he would want to move on. I met a lovely girl at the church that I wanted to introduce him to, but he won’t even consider a date,” Mrs. Fourakis said, feeling a tinge of sympathy for her son and the sudden need to take up for him. Hunter had always been different from his siblings and more sensitive.

  Hanna shook her head as they talked. They were so off. Huffing, she stabbed her lettuce and looked over at her mother. “He’s seeing a woman.” Everyone’s eyes landed on her as the words came out. A million questions swirled around the room.

  “Is she a doctor?” Mrs. Fourakis asked with an inquisitive smile.

  “No,” Hanna answered.

  “Is she a member of the church?” Mrs. Fourakis asked hopefully.

  “He doesn’t even go anymore, Ma. No,” Hanna replied.

  Dr. Fourakis frowned and put down his glass of wine. “Is she Greek?” That was the most important of his concerns but not the only one.

  “No,” Hanna said, raising her brow. “She’s an author though.”

  “Oh,” Mrs. Fourakis said pleased. “Published?”

  “Yes, a bestselling author,” Hanna said, looking at Rhea, who had attempted but failed to accomplish such a thing. It was worth it to leak Hunter’s business just to rub Rhea’s shortcomings in her smug face.

  Everyone seemed interested suddenly. Maybe they had all been too hard on the boy. He was actually trying to move on with his life. It definitely explained his absence, but it only brought more attention to his love interest. Who was she?

  “Well, if she isn’t Greek then what is she?” Dr. Fourakis exploded. He had had enough of the guessing games.

  “She’s black,” Hanna bit out. She looked down at her food. The room became silent. The clink of silverware falling against plates expressed the consensus. Disapproval.

  “Black?” Mrs. Fourakis asked, looking around confused.

  “Yes, mother. Black. She’s a black author. She writes romance, and she’s a patient at the practice, though that is not the way that they initially met,” Hanna said quickly.

  “Completely unprofessional,” Rhea said in a huff.

  Hanna shot Rhea a dirty look out of the side of her eye. Leave it to Rhea to be disapproving, though she was still lacking a man or any semblance of a stable relationship.

  “How did they meet?” Dr. Fourakis asked.

  “Is this a joke?” Mrs. Fourakis asked with a half-grin. She still had not caught up to the rest of the conversation. She was still focused on her son seeing a black woman.

  Hanna was quiet. She looked at her mother and smirked. “He wants us to stay out of his business. And it is serious. He hasn’t been home in a few days. He comes to the office and then he goes straight to her house. And I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but it sounded like a better option than you berating him behind his back.”

  “We weren’t berating…” Rhea started to defend.

  “You were,” Hanna said, picking up her fork.

  “A black author? Really?” Paris asked intrigued. “Do you know her name?”

  “I’ve said enough,” Hanna said, refusing to say more. “The point is that he’s no hermit.”

  Dr. Fourakis sat back from the table disgusted. Wiping his face off with the white napkin beside him, he stood up with his hands fisted and stomped off from the table leaving his food uneaten. The maid in the corner quickly stepped forward and pushed his seat up to the table then removed his plate.

  Mrs. Fourakis sat in shock. Her dear boy was dating a woman and had not bothered to tell her. He was finally in love and had not shared such a marvelous fact. Hurt to her heart, she stood up from the table. “If you’d excuse me, I’m going to go and check on your father,” she said, holding her diamond-covered hand to her St. John powder blue jacket.

  Paris nodded and patted his wife’s hand as she sat quietly listening and eating her food. “Another dinner at the Fourakis house,” he said, turning to Hanna. “You and your brother are absolutely amazing. He ruins dinner by not coming, and you ruin dinner by doing the complete opposite.”

  “The words pompous and prick ring a bell when I see that grin of yours,” Hanna said to Paris.

  “Funny,” Paris said snidely. “And where is Jack this evening?”

  “He’s on duty at the ER,” Hanna said, narrowing her eyes.

  “Right,” Paris said, standing up. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Eight

  Wednesday was damp and rainy. Looking out of his office window, Hunter fought with his thoughts as he talked into his recorder. Under the sterile fluorescent lights in his office, he paced back and forth trying to decide which birth control would be best for Mrs. Alderman considering her desire to
continue smoking. Her unhealthy habit could lead to blood clots or even a heart attack in view of the fact that she was already over thirty-five.

  “Oh, good. You’re still here,” Hanna said, coming into the office. She closed the door behind her. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Hunter looked at his watch, hoping that whatever she wanted wouldn’t take long. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “How have you been?” she asked with a small grin. “You’ve been like a ghost in here. You’re in. You’re out. I hardly see you.” Hanna shrugged as she held his gaze.

  Hunter put down his recorder on the table. Something was up. His eye twitched at the thought of what it could be. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve just been a bit busy.” He walked over to his desk and turned on his computer monitor.