Him

February 2, 2017

 

 Damn he's fine. Every time I see him, that's the first thing that comes to mind. Damn, he is too fine.

 

"Umm, I'm sorry, what did you say?" I ask embarrassingly. I'm sitting across from this mocha complexioned specimen of a man during another mid-day lunch at a deli in downtown Chicago. The deli is a personal favorite of ours since we met a year or so ago, directly across the street at the Apple Store. My 6S plus screen was cracked and he didn't know how to back his information to his iCloud. After 30 minutes of waiting and an entertaining conversation, we decided to grab some lunch before heading back to our respective jobs. It's been an almost every day routine since.

 

He looked at me and smiled, that gorgeous, sit on my face smile. "I asked you what you thought about last night."

 

Shit. We were talking about the game last night and then my mind wandered and I began imagining his head between my legs.

 

"I'm not going to lie, I was half pay attention to the game," I said honestly. "What happened?"

 

"I turned after the third quarter," he replied. "The Bears were getting their asses whooped and I was sick of watching."

 

We continued to eat in silence. I picked up my phone and played like I was checking my messages and emails. I did that when I started to get nervous and not sure on what else to say. He gets me that way a lot. It wasn't always this weird, it gradually happened over time. Not sure when the transition took place but it would have been nice if my hormones would have forewarned me.

 

I take a sip of my Life Sobe water and looked back towards him. Any other time I can steal a few seconds and process his physique. Making a mental note of how his bald head is perfectly round or how neat his full black beard rests perfectly on that flawless face. His almond shaped eyes is accented with long, full lashes that many women pay good money for. His lips are full but not Jay Zish. They are the perfect kissable lips, lips that I can definitely get lost in for days. But my moments were taken from me because as I looked up at him he was already staring down at me. I damn near choked but I pulled it together with a forced smirk.

 

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Am I smacking too loud again?"

 

He didn't say anything at first. He just squinted those dark brown eyes at me in silence. At first I thought he was irritated with me. Our once entertaining conversations have become like a first date: stale and awkward. I swear it's not intentional but I don't want to sound dumb or turn him off. What the hell am I saying? I can't worry about that! This is supposed to be a friendly, innocent time with a male companion. Just two people sharing information over a 60 minute lunch in a busy downtown deli around very few people who knew us. Plus, I don't think my fiancé would like it that I cared about this man's opinion of me higher than I do of his.

 

"Nothing", he said casually. I knew he was full of shit and he knew I knew this. He also knew I was going to push him for further information.

 

"Lies!" I said halfheartedly. "What's up?"

 

"I was just thinking we should try somewhere else? We always come here."

 

"Because work is in walking distance for the both of us." I wanted to also throw in his face that this place was his idea but I left that alone.

 

"I guess I'm just in the mood for something else", he said slyly.

 

I looked at him quizzically. If this was his way of saying he was getting bored and wanted to stop hanging out, I was going to be devastated. It's not like we had an opportunity to spend a lot of time together anyway. An hour for lunch, text messages throughout the day and periodic phone conversations on my train ride home was the only thing that got me through the day. I had gotten used to his voice...to seeing his mesmerizing face...listening to his crazy stories about work...his cute narrow waist and broad shoulders...his stories about his family drama...the imprint in his pants I've caught a couple of times. I had very stupidly grown attached to him without his knowledge and it was becoming too much. But I did not want it to end.

 

Scarily, he picked up on my uneasiness and asked in his smooth baritone voice, "What are you thinking at this very moment?"

 

I froze. My throat got dry and I promise my heart stopped. Just stopped. I should be dead but my body's too damn stupid to fall over. I know I look like a deaf mute right now. So damn embarrassing. Finally I managed to stutter, "N-n-nothing. Why, what's on your mind?"

 

"You."

 

WHAT THE HELL??? Did he just say what I thought he said? Naw, he didn't. He couldn't have. Nope, he didn't.

 

"Excuse me?" I asked.

 

"You heard me. I can't stop thinking about you. I come here every day just to spend time with you and I've been waiting on you to give me a hint that you felt the same way about me. I apologize if I'm out of line but I'm tired of playing this game. We’re both grown and I feel if we’re going to do something about it, let’s stop wasting each other’s time and do something about it now."

 

And I'm quiet again. My mind screams, Bitch, if you don't say something!

 

"Don't apologize," I said looking down at the table. I couldn't look at him. I battled with myself on whether or not I should tell him how I felt. What could actually come out of it? Would I be able walk away from a 2-year relationship to try something with him? Or is all of this just lust and I'm taking a chance on wondering if he can blow my back out? Would the risk be worth it? What did this man have over me? Forget it, I have to get it out in the open or I'll always wonder what if. With my eyes focused on my hands, I began my confession. "I feel the same…"

 

I was interrupted by the touch of his hand on my face. He gently placed his palm underneath my chin and forced my gaze to meet his. His eyes were doing that squinting thing again. I felt the moistness grow between my legs.

 

"Let me show you how bad I want you," he said in a real low tone.

 

"Okay," is all I could manage.

 

He leaned across the table and placed those soft lips on mine. He opened my mouth with his tongue and I immediately tasted the pickles that he had devoured with his chicken salad sandwich. I reciprocated and tried to suck his tonsils from the back of his throat. For a few seconds, our tongues had the freedom to do their thing while his fingers caressed the side of my face. I no longer concerned myself with other patrons in the deli, the people walking by that could clearly see us in the window or the waiter that could stop by at any moment to ask if we needed anything else before departing for the day. I wanted him to move his left hand lower and find the top of my breasts. For him to stand up over me and lean me back while opening my legs with his right hand. Urging him to continue up my skirt, to that special place to finally free the dam that was threatening to let loose at any minute. But he slowed down and ended the kiss just as passionate as he started. I looked at him in shock, not believing what we just did right here at this table. I was ready to call my assistant and tell her I was not coming back for the day and go with him to the closest hotel we could find. Better yet, I would settle for the bathroom. I’m not sure if I could make it out of the deli without taking him down in the entrance. The dampness I once felt was more like a stream and I couldn't contain what I was feeling anymore. It was time to show this man exactly how I felt. Now or never, the point of no return.

 

 "Let's get out of here," I said in a raspy, seductress tone. I could tell my face was flushed and I could feel myself starting to pant.

But my energy was not returned. Instead, he looked at me quizzically while munching on his pickle.

 

"Do you have to get back early for a meeting or something?" he asked, looking at the time on his phone.

 

And just like that my intense arousal was replaced with a major disappointment. Did I really imagine all of that? Did he not just confess to me that he had feelings for me too? But it felt so real, I reassured myself. I can still feel his lips on mine, the taste of pickles in my mouth, his breath tickling my nose. It was all in my imagination…ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

 

To save myself from further embarrassment, I did the one thing I did NOT want to do and that was cut my time short. I would have to wait a whole other day to see his face again. The text messages and side bar conversations were going to have to tie me over. But I needed to get out of here and get myself together.

 

"Umm, yeah," I lied. I picked up my phone and placed it in my purse. I didn't bother to eat the rest of my food, I just closed the container of my Caesar chicken salad and gathered my trash. My shy awkward performance must not have phased him because he nodded and started to gather his belongings as well.

 

We walked outside on this windy and brutally cold February day. Chicago's weather is not for the weak in the winter. My long wool coat and knitted scarf could not keep the sharp chill at bay. As I adjusted my coat and placed my food container in my bag, his 6 foot 2 inch frame stopped in front of me, shielding the wind from my face. He looked down at me and I looked up at him, this time not caring if I stared longer than usual. I fought the urge to reach up and touch his face as I imagined him doing the same to me just a few moments ago. Then, the disappointment hit me again and I decided to end today's torture.

 

"Thanks for meeting me as usual," I said smiling.

 

"Why didn't you say you had a meeting earlier?" he asked, looking at me more intense now.

 

"I forgot," I said shyly. It was a weak excuse and I knew he didn't believe me but I couldn't come up with anything better.

 

"Okay," he said nodding his head. That was his ‘I know you're full of it but I'm not going to push it’ nod. Sad how well we know one another. Sad we only know one another with clothes on. "Hit me up later after work," he continued.

 

I nodded my head and walked around him and headed back towards my building. I took his Guilty by Gucci cologne scent and sensual look with me, back to the place in my mind where I can be free with him. To a place where he knows exactly how I feel and he shows me that he feels the same. Where there are no time restraints, limited conversations or sneak texts. To a guilt free place where all we did was please each other, eat deli sandwiches and salads, and go back for another round of pleasure.

 

Our brief encounter will hold me over until I hear that voice that will send me back in a whirlwind yet again.

 

He is just too damn fine, I smile to myself. Just too damn fine. 

 

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