A/N:Thanks for the love and supports, I greatly appreciate it appreciate it. As always, thank you for reading!
The City That Never Sleeps
I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling. The industrial looking pipes for the HVAC made a good little maze for me. I have been stuck in my studio apartment for days. Days. The show was 2 nights away and I was finally done. I normally would work a few bar mitzvahs and weddings by now.
Especially weddings. Weddings were hot this time of year in the spring. But I didn't take any new freelance work, because I was in a crunch to get my series edited. I was pushing it thinking I could get it done in the little time I had.
These past ten days consisted of me literally listening to music while I worked. As I looked over the shots, I couldn't believe I had took so many pictures of her. I know I stared at her photos on my software for yours but , trying to figure out the best hues for the shots; how saturated I wanted the colors to be; how large I wanted the end prints.
A lot went into editing photos. Lots of time, patience, and repetitiveness, and I felt like I knew more about her than I ever did before. The more time I spent with the images, the more I wanted to see Michonne.
I called Michonne the other day with a quick conversation about nothing. She was on her way to class and I had just woke up from spending all night editing. Which happened to be the bane of my existence. We didn't speak for long. Just a casual hello. Asked her if she was still thinking about coming to the show. She told me she hadn't decided. I really hoped she'd make it there. I wanted to see her, as well as wanting her to see the final project.
I toyed around again with the stills, deciding the layout for the show. I needed to have a quick meeting with Lori today just to touch base. However, my bed was calling me, and a quick nap right now wouldn't seem like a bad idea. I slept for a total of four hours last night.
It's been like that for the past ten days and I've been in a state of constant unrest. I stood up from my overstimulating workspace to fall onto my bed when my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Glenn.
"Hello?" I answered. I heard some wind in the background and Maggie laughing. Glenn started to say something, but I couldn't hear him. Eventually, he fixed the problem.
"Am I coming through now?" he asked me. I could still hear Maggie in the background, but there was less wind.
"Yeah. What's up?" I asked, still a bit groggy and in desperate need of some coffee.
"Rick, what's up, man? Maggie, Daryl, and I are going to the little muffin shop down the street. You should come down and get out of the dungeon you've locked yourself in," he suggested. I looked at the clock on my wall. It was eleven something in the morning.
"I would, but I gotta meet Lori later and I'm a little tired," I tried to explain to him.
"I don't want to hear that, man. Take a shower, brush your teeth, throw some clothes on and meet us in thirty," he said ignoring me, then hanging up the phone. I grinned and ran my hands over my face. I had about a couple days of unshaved beard there.
Fresh air didn't seem like a bad idea, though. They were most likely going to sit outside at their favorite table and talk for a few hours. I stood up and walked to my closet, deciding I needed to get out of the house to get my mind from all the images of Michonne.
They were everywhere.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I felt like a vampire. The sun killed my eyes so I put my dark black shades back on. I only ordered a coffee.
"So you really trying to be a starving artist?" Daryl said, lighting up a cigarette. Daryl was the typical rocker trope: Long messy hair, wore all black, lots of tattoos. He could notice shit nobody else noticed, and everyone, especially every female in a thousand miles, wanted to be around him. He played in a local band and they were the new big thing.
"Nah, but living in this city ain't cheap," I told him. I risked gulping down the hot coffee to feel some immediate effect. It was a stupid idea.
"You look like hell, Rick," Glenn said, walking out to the table. His girlfriend, Maggie, sat next to him. Glenn met her at the publishing company they both worked at a few years ago. Maggie now works for teenVogue as a junior editor. They were getting married in a month.
I was asked to shoot their engagement photos, and the actual wedding ceremony. Maggie and Glenn were so trendy, looking like they stepped out of a GQ magazine shoot. They fit in with New York.
I mean I fit in, too. It's just everyone looked photogenic and cool compared to me. I had on my typical jeans and black t-shirt. Some sneakers. My hair looked like a shaggy dog, while theirs were always perfect: Glenn's was slicked back, his dark black hair compliments of his Asian heritage. Maggie wore a brunette "bob", which always draped to one side, mostly by how she carried conversation. Both of them were well-manicured and polished, they shopped at all the trendy boutiques.
I ran both hands over my face, stopping at my scruffy beard. "I've been putting a lot of time into this show. I'm done with my post-production stuff. It's just been time consuming. I really believed I could've got this done in two weeks. I can't ever take the easy road. Always have to make things harder for myself."
It was true. A conventional person would take months planning something like this. I didn't come up with an idea until a few weeks after Lori approached me. Even that was a last minute proposal.
I sat back and stretched a little. People were walking past the little coffee shop in spurts. Yelling, loud, and busy people. Laughing groups of guys. Giggling women. Crying babies. It was a typical day on my street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. It was a pretty artsy area. Pratt Institute, the art school I graduated from, wasn't that far from here.
"How'd your shoot go? Never asked you that," Maggie asked, drinking her lemon water. She smooth some hair behind her ear. I looked at her and nodded my head. Oh, it was fine. Had sex with the woman I've been staring at for the past ten days.
"Good. It went good. Excited to see where this thing goes. How people will respond to it." I took another big sip of my coffee as my phone vibrated on the table. Glancing quickly, I noticed Lori was calling.
I let it ring. She called me everyday to see how far I've gotten with the show. Since I had that unexpected, but satisfying, afternoon with Michonne, I had only seen Lori once this past week. I planned to see her soon to discuss the arrangements for the big day.
"What you got planned for the day, Rick? You been stuck in your apartment all week. You look like a true hippie now," Daryl said pointing to my beard. I laughed, because that statement coming from him that was a hoot.
"Yeahhh. I gotta meet Lori to go over some things for the show. That's why I'm not eating, by the way. We are having a late lunch," I said to Daryl. "She is kind of a neat freak and a little crazed about this whole thing being so organic, so she just wants to micromanage. After that I don't know," I said to them.
We talked for another half hour discussing when best to all meet at the event, before I decided to head to the subway to get to the lower east side. I really didn't feel like doing any of this.
I just wanted to go to sleep.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I've been bragging to my dad about your photography. Told him it's some of the best work I've ever seen. I'm really excited to see what you've done. You had me worried about wanting to shoot your show only 12 days before it opened." Lori went on about my talent and I was exhausted. I really tried to stay up on the conversation. Truly. But the numbers and figures weren't interesting to me.
"Yeah. I know. I was worried, too," I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. We were at some upbeat chic place, don't ask me to tell you which one, and I felt like a bum. She sipped her wine and clapped her hands together.
Lori, a big deal at the art gallery, had an unnatural ability to see and know great works of art. She was also the daughter of a respected businessman in Manhattan, who gifted her that art gallery.
We met at a house party our freshman year, and dated on and off for several years. During school, years later, she started dating someone else and we drifted apart. I hoped we could reconnect on that deeper level again, when we linked up not too long ago.
All the same, she got me to show once at her gallery, and now again. She knew her dad...her dad knew art people. Connections are everything in this town. Jobs are competitive in New York, with few to choose from. These shows were getting my name and talent out there.
Lori said that she would do all the marketing. Invite people out. She liked all that stuff. For a little over a month she's been trying to get lots of crowds to come to the show. She liked to mingle and associate. All I wanted to do was shoot great shots.
"Have you finished? What time are you setting up on the day of the show? I think this is going to be a hit. You know, a hundred people have R.S.V.P.'d to this thing. You've been buzzing around town," she said. Her ponytail was slick and neat. It sort of shook as she spoke. It was warm today for April, and she had on a black suit dress. She always dressed formal for any occasion. I looked like I just rolled out of hell.
"I'll be there early. I want to put everything up myself so it's going to take me some hours, but I'm done," I assured her. She grinned with expectation.
"Great, Rick!" She picked up her napkin and placed it in her lap. "If you have time we can go by the Gallery and I can show you what I've done arrangements wise."
I really don't have time. I really just want to get back to my place, I thought.
"Yeah, sure," I said, looking at her. She was different, I noticed as she spoke. Pearl earrings dangled from her ear, her long brown hair made her too business-woman. She was completely different from the carefree Lori I knew in Art School. She was more focused and determined. A fast talker and walker. It was hard to keep up with her now.
We finished our lunch and headed to the Art Gallery. I have to admit, Lori did a great job with the setup. There wasn't much else to it until I put my work up. We headed out of the building and walked downtown Manhattan:The City that Never Sleeps.
About ten minutes later I ran into someone I wasn't expecting to see. It was Michonne walking down the sidewalk with a book bag on her back. Also, in her hands was a folded piece of paper. When she looked up and saw me, she did a double take, that familiar grin crossed her face.
"Rick? What's up?" she said looking at me then at Lori. Lori had her arm entangled in mine. It looked like we were together, which technically we're not. Michonne had no clue about that though.
"Michonne," I said, just as surprised. "You live in Manhattan?" I asked her, and she shook her head.
"Nah. I'm from Brooklyn. Was here for a friend's spoken word show. It's supposed to be around here somewhere. This is a new spot," she said looking around. Her locs swung a little as she tried to figure out if she was close by. All I could think about was ten days ago when we fucked.
Michonne looked good in whatever she put on, apparently. Today it was some cut up jeans shorts, her thighs looked smooth enough that I wanted to touch her, just to see if I was right about it, but I knew the answer already. The t-shirt she wore had Lauryn Hill on it, and was tied into a knot on the side. Some black and white Chuck Taylor's completed the look.
Lori cleared her throat a couple of times and I looked at her. Did I forget she was there?
"Rick? You're not going to introduce me to your friend?" Lori asked. I knew that voice of hers. It was a false-sweet. I felt bad because I really forgot she was there. It's not like I had on purpose. I just wasn't expecting to see Michonne right now.
"Lori this is Michonne. She is the art student from Pratt who modeled for me," I said to her. Lori smiled even more and stuck out her hand.
"Well, hello. It's so nice to meet you. You're the one who saved the show. If it wasn't for you agreeing to do it we would be scrambling right now. We nearly were," Lori explained with sincerity, taking Michonne's hand. Michonne gave her the most gorgeous smile, and I wanted to kiss her right there.
That would definitely be the most awkward thing you could do in your life.
"Nice to meet you too, Lori," Michonne said, still smiling. I wonder what she was thinking. Did she think Lori and I were together? Did she care? Why the hell would she care? "The building is over there, so I guess I'll leave you two to your day. I'm sooo late," she said to us, looking at her phone. She glanced up at me and smiled. "It was nice seeing you again, Rick," and walked towards the direction of the building.
"Well she's just gorgeous. Is she a model or an art student, both?" Lori asked. I heard what she was saying, but I still focused on Michonne. She had this effortless look about her, like nothing ever made her worry.
"Just an art student. She's never done anything professional until me," I said to Lori. I caught Lori staring at her, too, as Michonne walked in the building she searched for earlier.
"Well, she should model. I know a couple of people if she is ever interested. Let her know that next time you see her," she said as we walked towards the curb to hail a cab. When it arrived she turned around and wedged herself between me and the door.
"You wanna come by my place? I've changed some stuff around. Got new sheets," she said with a sexy smirk.
No, not really. "Tonight's not a good night. I've been trying to catch up on some sleep and still have some last minute touches to the show," I said to her. It was all true. I really needed some rest. As tempting as the offer sounded, I needed some sleep.
She looked disappointed. A pouty look crossed her lips, but she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and told me goodbye, hopping into her cab. "Raincheck, then?" she said before she closed the door.
"Pencil me in," I said to her half jokingly. She grinned and I closed her door. I waved goodbye and tapped the side of the cab. As it drove off, I pulled out my phone.
I wanted to see what time it was. Subconsciously, I looked through my contacts and landed on Michonne's name. I was tired. I really was. I wasn't lying to Lori when I said I was, but I saw Michonne and thought there would be no harm in going to the place she just went. It was open to the public.
Why not? After I said hey one more time, and asked her how she's been, I would go home. I would take my dad home and get some sleep.
Yep, that's the plan.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
They told me I would be free from my plight
But my scars hide beneath my epidermis...
Out of sight
Deep wounds from centuries of hate and stress
Pollute the world from reaching greatness
I walked into the club-like place. Maybe it was a jazz club that had this poetry open mic night? There was an assortment of people there. I saw several older couples as well as some college looking crowds. I leaned up against the wall and took in the atmosphere. There was definitely no smoking allowed, but I definitely smelled marijuana.
Tell me to be humble,
While they constantly see me struggle.
Keep me inside their little bubble.
I heard the person on the mic saying. A black woman with really curly hair. Her movements were expressive and she spoke like Michonne, with her hands. She went on for a few minutes before she ended her selection. The crowd applauded when she did.
"Thanks guys. Thanks for coming out to support all of these artists. It's not easy to express yourself in front of some of the coolest people in New York, but you guys are the best," the woman said clapping her hands for the patrons.
"Now, I want to bring to the stage my dear best friend. This is her first time at open mic and you guys are in for a treat. Please help me in bringing up my sistah, Michonnnneeee," said the woman who waited for Michonne to walk on the stage.
I was surprised. I wasn't expecting her to be on stage. Now I had to stay and watch the show. She looked amazing. A shy smile crossed her face, as her friend stepped out the way. The smoky ambiance gave way to Michonne as she cleared her throat. She was the only person in the room for me at the moment. All of my attention was on her.
She stepped up to the mic and lifted it up. "Thanks, Sasha. Hello, everyone. Thanks for letting me share my words with you. I feel it's important we let go of whatever is inside of us. Even if you don't happen to care, you at least know how I feel. This is called "I Told Myself." She opened up a piece of paper and held it up as she spoke.
I told myself I wasn't going to fall again.
That
I wasn't going to
Fall
Into the trap of a man's eyes again.
Brown open
windows into a soul of peace. At least that's what they tell me.
They'll lie and say I'm the one. That I'm the only one who gets to go into that window. That I'm the only one who could climb into their mind and know their deepest thoughts.
But I realized
those windows were doors, and everyone could just walk into them,
and
I'd be the one locked out.
Now, I'm threatened again by some blue windows. Clearer and Pure.
I told myself I wouldn't fall again
But I'm just going to brace myself,
For the plunge.
The room was silent for a while. Longer than I would have liked if it was me up there. But everyone stood up and started clapping. It was beautiful how she delivered it. She was sad but hopeful, and I was mesmerized by her. So was the crowd.
Her friend got back on the mic holding her arms up and clapping. "Y'all give it up for my best motherfucking friend, Michonnnneee. Come on you guys. She did the damn thing!" The friend kept clapping and Michonne looked bashful.
Moments later the woman started talking again and Michonne walked off stage. I followed her through the crowd towards a little table she sat down at. You should be getting sleep, Grimes. Didn't you tell Lori that? Yeah, but what harm was coming from speaking to Michonne for ten minutes. I waited until a few people walked away from her before I approached.
"This seat taken?" I said with a small grin. Michonne looked at me and was completely shocked. She looked like she saw a ghost.
"Rick? Were you here the entire time?" she asked me. I kissed her cheek and sat in the other chair at the table. Her skin was soft against my lips. I wanted to run them down her neck and lower.
"No. Not the entire time. Saw your friend, then you," I said looking at her. I couldn't take in how beautiful she was.
"You saw me? Oh, god," she said, covering her face, nearly mortified. "The entire thing?" she asked me. I took her hands from her face and held them in my hand.
"You were great. I liked it. I'm not really great at poetry and stuff, but I was moved. Your delivery was great. The audience was into you," I said, trying to calm her nerves. She seemed relieved after I said that.
"Okay, yeah. Thanks. Have to be honest. I was not expecting you to be here at all. When I saw you with your girlfriend I felt weird. I feel really foolish for coming onto you the way I did that day," she said pulling her hands from me.
I grabbed them again. "I don't have a girlfriend," I told her. She cocked her head to the side like she didn't believe me.
"Does that woman named, Lori, know that? Cause she sure seemed like your girlfriend," Michonne said looking at me. I shook my head.
"She's a friend. Not my girlfriend. We graduated together," I tried to explain to her, but she wasn't believing any of it. Just then her friend walked up waving her hand like a fan over her face.
"Michonne, you rocked the house, girl. Everyone wants you to come back next week." She turned around, fanning herself more. "Ughhh, why is it so fucking hot in here?" she said, talking to herself mostly. When she focused on me she held her hand out.
"I'm Sasha. Michonne's best friend," she said, shaking my hand. "You go to the art school with Michonne? You didn't tell me you invited someone," she said looking at Michonne.
Michonne shook her head. "Nah, Sash. He's the guy I modeled for two weeks ago. We ran into each other outside before I got here," Michonne explained. Sasha's eyebrows raised so high, I thought they would pop off her head.
"Wellllll, hello, Mr. Photographer," she said in a sexy voice. Michonne hit her arm and Sasha ignored her. I grinned because I figured she told Sasha what happened between us.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Rick," I said, holding my hand out.
"Yes, you are, honey," she said still looking at me. I saw Michonne kick her foot and then Sasha looked at her.
"Well, let me get back to my hosting duties. You gonna stick around, Rick? Make sure me and my girl get back home safe?" she said to me.
"Yeah. I can do that," I said looking at Michonne. She blushed and turned her head towards Sasha.
"They're done, girl. Get onstage," Michonne said a bit annoyed. Sasha laughed and walked away, and I couldn't take my eyes off of Michonne.
"It'll only be another thirty minutes. You can leave if you want. I know you probably have somewhere to be," she said, seemingly concerned.
"I'm good. We both live in Brooklyn. I can wait," I told her, grabbing her hand. When she smiled, God, I wanted her. I wanted to take her in some corner and fuck the shit out of her. But there was a time and place for that.
Right now, I'd settle for hanging out with her.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We rode the subway. There was only standing room right now at 6:00pm. Sasha seemed to want to ask me a bunch of questions and Michonne just looked on laughing at her friend.
"You pay a lot of women to model for you?" Sasha asked. I knew I was turning red. I felt it. She made it seem like I was a pimp or something.
I laughed at her. I could tell she was a joker. "Nah. Michonne is the first like model-model. I had to dish out money cause it was so last minute. It was worth it. I got some good shots," I said looking directly at Michonne. We were standing across from each other holding onto the pole in the center of the train.
My fingers grazed her hand and she looked at it. Her eyes went hazy. It made me think back to that day. The way her skin felt... hot to the touch. The way her eyelids fluttered as I entered her.
"Y'all coming to the show in two days?" I asked them. Sasha looked at Michonne and then at me.
"Yeah. Oh, I'm definitely coming now. Michonne mentioned it, but she didn't say when it was. But I got an official invite from the Photographer himself," Sasha said with a big smile. She looked ahead and noticed where we were.
"My stop is coming up," Sasha said as I saw the platform. She smiled when she noticed two girls waving.
"You sure you don't want to get drunk with us at their lcrib?Tara and Rosita feel like you've been ditching the group," Sasha said as people started to exit. Michonne shook her head.
"Tell them I'm finishing a painting and I'm in a zone. Why didn't they come to the club?" Michonne asked her.
"Abraham problems," Sasha said. I had no clue what was going on, only that I was staring at Michonne the entire time.
"I got y'all next time and tell Rosita I'll call her about that," she said, giving her a hug and waving at the two women on the platform. They waved again and Sasha joined them. They all started to hoot and holler and Michonne looked really embarrassed.
"Rowdy girls," I said to her. She nodded her head as a new group of riders started to swarm around us. I wrapped my free arm around Michonne, pulling her close so no one bumped into her. Our eyes met.
"Yeah, they're a loud bunch," she said, not trying to push up on me. The growing crowd only pressed us closer together.
"You stay near Pratt?" I asked her. That was the art school. She nodded her head. I lived two stops before her. I would have to double back, but I wanted to get her to her place.
"Okay, we'll get off at the closest stop," I told her. Her lips weren't that far now. A low bend of my head would have me kissing her on this train, feeling the soft insides of her lips against mine, but she just seemed so uncomfortable.
"I'm not a mind reader. What's on your mind?" I said lightly. She smiled and looked up at me. I know I made a big fuss about her talking to me, but it was my turn to look away. I turned back when I realized what the problem could be.
"Do you want me to let you go? Sorry, I just...You feel good in my arms." Did you just say that shit out loud? I did because she looked up at me with those brown eyes. Those long lashes. We repeatedly bumped into each other as we rode the train, both of us still holding onto the pole. She seemed to melt before my very eyes. She was soft, sensual, sexy as fuck, and I wanted to know more than I did. I wanted to know who Michonne was.
"No, you don't have to. This is fine," she said nonchalantly. Her eyes and her lips told me something completely different. She wanted this. At least that's what I thought, but when she smiled at me, I knew. Without a doubt, I knew.
It was hot in the subway. Add all of these bodies in this tight space and it got even hotter. I wiped the sweat from her forehead. She ran her hand through my hair. I liked when she did that. Felt comforting. Familiar. Like she was the only person who knew how to calm me. I twisted a loc of hers around my finger. I couldn't stop looking at her, and I had been looking at her for ten days straight. Didn't realize how much I missed her until I had her actually around me.
My hand was still at the tiniest part of her back. Just above her round ass. I slowly rubbed my hand in a circle there and she closed her eyes. She looked like all the stress that may have been inside of her was slowly escaping. She seemed comfortable around me again.
"It's still early. Wanna grab a hot dog. My treat," I suggested to her. She agreed and we rode the remainder of the way just like that. Looking at each other. I don't know what it was about her.
But she was something.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What are you working on?" I asked as we ate our hot dogs. The sky was clear today. People were still out late in the evening. Back home in Kings County folks would be heading in for the evening for dinner.
"Like you, I like to be very organic. I draw from a bunch of sources of inspiration. Colors. Mainly a series of lines. Right now I'm working with slashes of red. It looks like I've murdered someone in my apartment," she said with a big smile.
"For an assignment at school?" I asked her and she nodded her head. She was smart. Very smart. I knew that when I first met her, but it was clearer now. The thing about artists is that everyone thinks they are the greatest. Everyone says they are the next Dali or Picasso. That their work is better than Ernest Hemingway or that they are more diverse, brilliant actor than Marlon Brando.
But honestly, out of the millions of people in the city, only a few really have it, and she understood that. She realized that she may not be the greatest, but maybe she could teach someone else to be great. Give them the basics to succeed.
"So that's why I want to teach art. I love working with the kids at the center and it's fulfilling. I get to paint, which I'm pretty good at, but I don't know if my big break will ever come from it. Look at me rambling on and on. I tend to do that sometimes," she said, balling up her napkin. I held out my hand to take it from her and threw our trash away. We were close to her place. The sun was still up, but it was getting later in the day.
Those four hours of sleep were starting to get to me. People were still moving about, a line of bicyclists rode past us; a young couple walked their baby.
"It suits you, teaching. Shaping minds. Who knows. Maybe you can model. My friend Lori seems to think you should talk to someone she knows." Michonne let out a huff of disbelief, but I only was telling the truth.
"I'm for real. First thing she said to me before she went home." You forgot to mention the part where you ditched her to see what Michonne was up to.
"Yeah. Yeah. Well, I have to get this assignment done. I would invite you to my place, but I need to put all my attention to my work," she said. She was like me in a way.
I didn't really know where we stood in the kissing department so I grabbed her hand and rubbed the tips of her fingers. "Are you coming to the show in a couple of days? Please come," I said looking at her. I bent down a little at her eye level and gave her my best smile. It got her to blush.
"A lot of people are going to be there?" she asked with trepidation.
Yes, at least 100, Lori said, but I didn't want to scare her."Not sure. Some of my friends are coming. Lori really planned all of that stuff so, yeah, I'm not sure," I lied...but not in a big way. She still seemed hesitant.
"And, you know, Lori. She's not going to be weirded out that I'm there?" she asked me. She still thought Lori was my girlfriend. I mean we did what we did, but there was never a title. Nothing that kept us official.
"No, we're not like that. She's just a friend. That's it. It doesn't really matter because the show features you. You're the art." I looked at her until she decided if she wanted to go or not. When she nodded her head, I let out a little breath of relief. I really wanted her to be there. I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. She surprised me by guiding my face with the tips of her fingers, lightly grazing the hair there at my temple, as our eyes met for seconds.
I began looking at the little details of her face; details I had etched in my mind from the hours of editing her photos; days I spent locked in my place trying to get this show done. Her locs always seemed to outline her face. Her eyes sultry and knowing. Her cheekbones were high and made her look regal. The fullness of her lips made me think back to when I kissed them so long ago; how I made her scream from my touch.
She was looking me over, too. Long gazes that weren't that long at all, then she stepped in closer and kissed me. The softness of her lips took me by surprise. How much I missed the taste of her. The way she let out a little moan as I pulled her closer into me. The smell of her was flooding my senses now. I pressed my tongue against her lips, trying to part them to taste her even more.
The kiss this time was more certain. We didn't play around with each other. I needed her kiss. After this stressful week, it was the only thing that made sense to me. I quickly became addicted to the feel of her lips against me. I pressed my lips harder against hers, crushing them somehow. My hand grabbed her ass and I didn't care who saw it.
Eventually when I pulled away from her I took a deep breath. I needed to calm my ass down, because if she kissed me again, I was going to take her upstairs and fuck the hell out of her. But I could only look at her.
"You know. You're like my muse. Once I get some of you, I feel like I can do anything," I told her. She just smiled at me. Maybe she was just as stunned as I was right now. My heart beat faster; my dick was getting hard.
"You're different," she said walking towards the front door of her apartment building.
"Is that good or bad?" I asked her with a smile on my face. Her face was dreamy; a come fuck me look crossed it. She was so sexy.
"I haven't decided, yet?" she looked at me. "Shave your beard for the show," she said then walked away. I ran a hand over my face as I watched her walk into her brownstone, eventually leaving to catch a cab. I didn't know what I was getting into, or what I was going to get from this whole thing.
But I knew I wanted to see something happen...soon.