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“Can I get you something to drink, John? Water, iced tea, or something?”
“I’d like a glass of tea,” I said, clearing the huge lump in my throat.
Lord have mercy, I thought, feeling like a fish out of water. Watching Clara walk away in that fitted dress and heeled sandals was a sight to behold. Her rotund rump looked as firm as I remembered it. I struggled to keep dragon raging within me at bay.
I wanted to follow Clara in that kitchen and demand we make up for missed time. But who was I kidding? Clara Santana Baker would surely roast me for dinner, if I crossed that invisible line.
“Here you are, John,” Clara was saying when she reentered the room with two glasses of tea.
“Thank you.” I took one glass from her hand and took a swig.
I scanned the many pictures lining her walls and adorning her winding bookcase. “You don’t look a day older than you did in your twenties,” I said, returning my attention to Clara to admire her unfading glow.
“Oh, John,” she said as she sat down on the sofa beside me. “Don’t try to get fresh with me. I look sixty plus and I’m glad about it.”
I sat my glass down on one of the coasters she put on the coffee table. I took her drink out of her hand and sat it down, as well. I took both of her hands and just looked at her for a long while. I felt like that wet behind the ear chap that didn’t know anything about love or life.
“You are so beautiful to me,” I said as I eased closer to her on the sofa. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”
She opened her mouth to speak and I sensed she was about to challenge me in some sort of way. It didn’t matter what she was about to say; I didn’t want to hear any of it. She was truly the most beautiful piece of artwork that graced this earth and I hoped she knew it. I moved in closer to her until our lips were but an inch away.
“I’m sorry for ever mistreating you,” I said before taking a chance and moving in. I latched my lips to hers for a savory kiss. Her sweet, soft lips brought back distant memories of her soft and supple body being pressed up against mine, which aroused every part of me.
I was glad she didn’t resist when I reached up and cupped her face. I captured the very essence of our kiss by holding her face in my hands. I held her within my own hands as I would a framed piece of artwork. The slow and sweet grinding of our lips progressed into a fiery, ferocious assault.
When I felt my loins harden to an epic proportion, I knew I had to release her, lest I made a mess of our reunion. There was no way I could control my hunger for her, if we continued this wonderful tease.
Just as I withdrew my lips from hers, she moaned. A sensuous moan that made me want to devour her whole. I wrapped my arms around her waist and damn near yanked her onto my lap. “You feel so good,” I said moving my lips from her mouth to her neck.
“Umph… Oh, John, Mmmm… John,” she said kissing me passionately. “I think we should stop…”
“Oh you feel so good, Clara,” I said as my hands went on a quest to leave no part of her untouched.
“Stop, John… Stop it!” she said jumping out of my lap.
When she stood in front of me with accusing eyes, I knew it… I went too far. “Sorry, Clara. It just felt so good to kiss you again. I won’t do it…”
“Damn it, John. Why did you have to come back here?” Clara asked as she straddled me and pulled my tie to guide my lips up toward to hers.
“I missed you,” I murmured against her lips.
“How much did you miss me?” she asked, as she pushed me hard against the sofa.
“So much, words can’t even explain,” I said, as my back fell helplessly against the cushion.
I watched her every move, as she kicked off her shoes and slightly lifted her dress on each side. Her warm body encompassed my lap and her eyes demanded a real explanation as to how much I missed her. With my arms wrapped tightly around her waist, I pulled her down against my hardness. I kissed her with fever flowing from my lips to hers.
God, I’d forgotten what unbridled passion felt like. I wanted Clara so badly I didn’t know how to contain myself. I pulled the straps of her dress down so I could lick the fabric of her black bra. My free hand slid up her dress and down into her silk panties. I cupped her bottom in my hands, just as her body went limp against mine.
When her moans ceased and she stopped moving, no words needed to be spoken. Our bad blood had come back like a thief in the night and overshadowed the moment.
Broken promises snuck in and reminded us both that I’d broken her heart. I removed my hand from her panties and straightened her dress back out. I eased the straps back up on her beautiful bronze shoulders. I pushed a few disheveled strands of her hair back in place and smiled at her in earnest.
“John, I’m sorry,” she said faintly.
“Shhhhhh,” I said placing a finger to her lips.
“I thought I was ready, but I’m just not ready for all of this,” Clara said as she slid off my lap and sat beside me.
