Burn (Indigo) Page 13

  Cinder had always envied Zae’s practiced calm. Her face never revealed her emotions or mood unless she wanted it to. But right now, stealing glances at Chip and his laughing date, Zae’s face was as easy to read as a cloudy Missouri sky. The heavens were about to open.

  “You really like him, don’t you?” Cinder asked.

  “That child is young enough to be . . . my younger brother,” Zae scoffed.

  “He’s a grown man. And you’re a beautiful, healthy woman who’s been single for a long time. It’s okay to be attracted to him, Zae.”

  “I’m not.” She folded her arms resolutely.

  “Then why does it bother you so much to see him with a date?”

  “I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

  “He probably hasn’t had much time for dating, between training you for the tournament—”

  “We don’t spend any more time training than you and Gian do,” Zae argued.

  “—and going to the gym with you—” Cinder continued.

  “If you must know, I need to build my upper body strength,” Zae informed her. “Chip knows which machines and exercises are best for me, and he keeps me motivated.”

  “—and to the physical therapist with you—”

  “I’m forty-two years old, soon to be forty-three,” Zae said testily. “These old joints and muscles need some attention from time to time.”

  “And you two have gone out for dinner a couple of times, too,” Cinder said. “Gian and I saw you going into Isis a few nights ago when we were leaving Sheng Li. We saw you at the Kirkwood Farmer’s Market, too, sharing one of those big apples.”

  “People gotta eat,” Zae whispered loudly. “And those Honeycrisp apples are the size of softballs. I can’t eat one by myself!”

  “It’s all right to spend time with him,” Cinder said. “If he makes you happy, you should—”

  “Have you and Gian had sex yet?”

  Cinder’s cheeks burst into flame.

  Zae stepped closer to her and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry. I wanted to change the subject, and that’s the first thing that popped into my head.”

  With Zae following her, Cinder moved a few yards to the black wrought-iron bench beneath Zae’s biggest willow. The long, lazy fronds seemed to enclose them in their own little world as they sat, Cinder’s plate between them. Zae picked pieces of deliciously browned cheese from the lasagna as Cinder spoke.

  “We fool around a lot.” Cinder peered through the willow fronds and the guests on the deck to see Gian, whose animated hand gestures made him seem bigger and taller as he talked with Zae’s twins, Cory, and a few other people. “Every time I see him, I want to kiss him. I’m going to get my ass kicked at the tournament because every one of our training sessions ends with us groping and rolling over each other in the private studio.”

  “Gian told Chip that you’re getting really good,” Zae said through a mouthful of lasagna.

  “Gian’s just being nice.” Cinder kicked her feet, staining the toes of her canvas sandals in the freshly cut grass. “He’s so nice to me, Zae. And so patient.”

  “He’s not stupid,” Zae remarked. “He knows that some things are worth the wait. But why are you making him wait?”

  “I don’t mean to. Every time we’re tangled up in each other, I go so far with him before it’s not just us anymore. Chai creeps in.”

  “Oh, baby . . .” Zae cooed.

  “Gian came over to watch a movie last week, and we ended up falling asleep on the sofa. I had the dream again.”

  “That bastard is in your head and you have to get him out,” Zae said forcefully. “You can’t let him keep controlling your life.”

  “He was really good at it, you know. He did it for so long without me even noticing it. He would tell me that he was just looking out for me, or wanted what was best for us. Remember when I accepted the promotion at MetaGraphica?”

  Zae crunched into a taro chip. “Vaguely.”

  “My first big assignment was for Calvert Caldwell Incorporated. They’re based in Baltimore, and their network is enormous.”

  Zae nodded. “Three of my literature grads are at Missouri U. on scholarships awarded by Calvert Caldwell. It’s amazing how much the company does to help low-income and impoverished women advance themselves.”

  “I did the graphics for a national campaign they planned to launch for their new Women’s Technology Services division. The focus was on how the WTS would provide no- or low-cost training in computer education for women re-entering the job market, or women who speak English as a second language—for whatever reason a woman needed to have computer skills. Men can go out and get well-paying jobs in construction or something if they don’t have computer skills, but a woman without a degree usually has to trade on her looks if she wants to earn a good living. The whole concept behind WTS was that of empowering women, so that they could compete in today’s job market using their brains and ambition.”

  “Sounds good,” Zae said. Having finished off the lasagna, she used her finger to mop up the last of the sauce on Cinder’s plate.

  “On the day of our big presentation, everything was going great. The client loved the treatments we came up with, both in terms of the copy and the art. They really liked one of the logos I designed. Just when they were about to leave to go see the treatments the other company up for the job had done, in comes a singing telegram. From Chai.”

  Zae looked up, her black eyes wide.

  “My birthday was a week off, but he sent a singing telegram to the office as a surprise. He’d chosen strippers, and not just any strippers. The women were twins, identical right down—or up—to their enormous breasts. He hired Bitty and Kitty McTittie to dance and sing an absolutely horrible song for me. The lyrics of the song were worse than their dancing. When they stripped off their sequined 54DDD brassieres and tossed them in the air, that was it. The Caldwell Calvert reps had all they could take. They stormed out, I got called before the vice president of personnel. I was demoted to the Lenny Orsatti Used Car account, and Caldwell Calvert ended up going with the campaign treatment our rival created.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have talked about my promotion so much. I should never have let Chai know how much the Caldwall Calvert account meant to me. That’s why he took it away. He didn’t want anything in my life to compete with him for my attention.”

  “Is that why you went two years without calling or writing or visiting me after you got married?”

  “It was just easier to keep the peace than to argue or deal with his silent treatments if he found out that I’d been talking to you,” Cinder said.

  “He never could stand me. I always stood up to him, and he hated that.”

  “How could I not have seen it at the time? What was wrong with me?”

  “The problem was never with you,” Zae insisted. “It was him. When you introduced me to Sumchai Wyatt for the first time, I fell half in love with him myself! He was smart, funny, he seemed to worship the ground you walked on with those big ol’ size nines of yours, and the man was beautiful.”

  “I don’t want my past interfering with my future,” Cinder said firmly. “Gian deserves that.”

  “So do you, honey,” Zae assured her. “Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Say your prayers, and God will manage your mess into a glorious outcome.” She patted Cinder’s bare knee. “Now let’s go see if Chip’s little friend has any food allergies.”

  * * *

  “I’m too old for this,” Cinder grunted as she pulled herself onto a higher branch of the oak tree at the far end of Zae’s backyard.

  “If you’re too old at thirty-one, then I’m definitely too old.” Gian, his hands on her hips, gave her a boost onto the cargo netting moored between two branches of the tree. The rough synthetic cable formed a triangular web nearly thirty feet above the ground. Zae had installed the web for her tw
ins’ tenth birthday as a compromise to get ting a tree house, something Zae knew the twins would quickly outgrow.

  Hesitant, Cinder crawled over the web, fearful that it might not support her weight. Gian braced his feet on a lower branch and grabbed the netting. He gave it a good shake, scaring a shriek out of Cinder, who bounced onto her back and stiffly splayed her arms and legs. She gripped the wide squares of the netting as tightly as she could.

  “I’m sorry.” Gian chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to assure you that the web would hold.”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t kick you in the windpipe,” Cinder replied. “I know what to do with my startle reflex these days, you know.”

  Gian hummed a noise of acknowledgement. “Guess what?”

  “What?” Cinder asked. Framed by the leafy canopy in the early darkness, he looked like a mythical forest denizen, or perhaps a mischievous demi-god.

  “You’re not wearing any panties.”

  Convinced that the wide web would indeed support her, Cinder relaxed, pillowing her head on her laced fingers. “Yes, I am.”

  Gian made a production of peering under her short black skirt. “No, you’re not. I’ve got a great angle and I can see your—”

  “It’s my Chocolate Silk.” She laughed, clapping her knees together and crossing her legs at the ankles.

  “That’s a fancy name for it.” Gian grabbed her ankles to drag her closer to him. “I call mine Soldier.”

  Cinder laughed harder, succumbing to a full attack of the sillies. “I’m wearing my Chocolate Silk panties,” she clarified. “I’ve got Va-Va-Voom Vanilla, Strawberry Sweetness, Naked Nectarine. Those are see-through orange silk.”

  Gian licked his lips with a noisy slurp. “You know,” he started, peeking through the branches to get a look at the house a few hundred yards away, “everyone’s on the deck having dessert. We’re the only ones out here.”

  “I want a slice of Zae’s coconut cream pie.” Cinder sat up.

  “I want what’s right here.”

  It might have been a trick of the moonlight, but the playful gleam in Gian’s eyes turned into something else as he stood there, his upper body framed between her feet. The specifics of his desire went unspoken, but Cinder perfectly understood what he meant. What he wanted.

  Beckoning him with an index finger, she lay on the web. Gian heeded her silent invitation. He climbed onto the web, crawling over her until his face aligned with hers.

  “Now about these panties of yours,” he said, his voice low. “Are they edible?”

  “No.” She giggled. “They’re from an online company called Cashmere & Charisma. It’s owned by two African-American women, Cashmere Connolly and Charisma O’Meara. They started the business as an intimate party planning service, to pay for college. It was so successful, they branched into merchandising their brand. They sell lingerie, gourmet food, bath and beauty products—”

  “If you’d stop talking, I could kiss you. ”

  “Well, if you’d kiss me, I’d stop talking.”

  Gian’s mouth came down on Cinder’s; she raised her head to meet him. He supported his weight on his knees, his heavier body lowering that end of the web to bring her more upright. His hands gently closed around her forearms, then slid up to her wrists before he threaded his fingers through hers. Kissing had become one of their favorite pastimes. It came very easily, so much so that it was merely another way of using their lips to speak to one another.

  Gian’s kisses held nothing back. They revealed everything about his feelings for Cinder. The flick of his tongue and pinch of his lips at her earlobe, the nip of his teeth at her lower lip, the gentle vacuum of his mouth at her neck; in so many ways he told her how much he cared for her and wanted to please her.

  Cinder responded in kind, tonight more than ever. She found herself someplace she had never expected to be. She had shared a bed with Gian, but only to sleep in his arms. They had made out like teenagers, Gian never moving faster or further than she desired. She desired him now, suspended between Heaven and Earth, far from every reminder of her painful past and uncertain future. Joyfully, she reveled in the present, a blissful place shared with a man whose kindness, patience, and tolerance heightened his beauty.

  He cupped her face to set the most tender of kisses on the tip of her nose and eyelids. Arms outstretched, she gripped the web. Gian’s gaze held her face in place while his hands moved under the soft cotton pleats of her skirt. Goose bumps rose in the path taken by his fingers as they glided over her thighs and hips to the waistband of her Chocolate Silk panties.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  She responded with a shake of her head.

  “Tell me. ”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered, her words as soft and raspy as the language of the wind-stirred leaves.

  The give of the web made an awkward task of removing her panties, but Gian managed, draping them carefully over the nearest branch. He kissed her then, his hands roaming freely beneath her skirt.

  His long, strong fingers pressed into her lower back, his thumbs stroked her hips. He kissed her deeply, clasping her left buttock in one hand while cupping his right hand between her legs. The warmth of her liquid silk wet his fingers as he parted the slippery seam hidden in her moist curls. His tongue slipped between her lips to suckle the tip of her tongue. His thumb and forefinger found the firm tip protruding from its fleshy hood, and he mimicked the action of his lips and tongue.

  The joints of the cable creaking, Cinder gripped the net even tighter, her arm muscles hard. Running his hands along her thighs, Gian felt the tension in her legs. He broke the kiss to whisper, “Imagine that your muscles are like honey.”

  Soft kisses and even softer caresses helped her do just that, until she released the web and put her hands on Gian. He took them, kissing them, before granting her leave to touch him as she wished. She cradled his head to her body as he nipped and gnawed at her breasts through her knit top. Her back arched, thrusting her hard nipples at him. He raised her top, exposing her Chocolate Silk bra to the night. Leisurely, Gian suckled her through the shiny satin, darkening it. Cinder closed her eyes and surrendered to sensation. Her hips bucked toward Gian, the empty heat within her aching for fulfillment.

  Gian read her signals and obliged her, lowering himself until his mouth covered her dark opening. He drew on her long and with enough firmness to leave her arched in pure pleasure, her mouth open, her eyes shut.

  Her doctor was the last man to have touched her in the places Gian touched, only Gian’s touch thrilled her. No fright laced the luscious, thickly sensual waves of warmth and desire he generated as he learned her body and its responses. His muscular frame was pleasantly hard, but his strength and size were not used to intimidate or dominate her. He used his body in ways meant only to please.

  His arms cradled her thighs, positioning her bottom against his chest. The former Marine became an explorer and he expertly used his tools to discover every detail of her. His tongue delved and excavated, his teeth tested textures and firmness. Cinder writhed beneath him, gritting her teeth. Gian’s left arm slid up her body so his fingertips could graze the cool, smooth skin of her jaw.

  “Relax,” he told her, the word an erotic murmur against her most sensitive flesh. “Just let it come.”

  Cinder concentrated, her attention turned inward, rather than out. She told her big muscles to slacken, her little ones to soften. Her eyes drowsed shut, her lips slightly parted as she made herself stop gritting her teeth. She let the breeze inflate her lungs and fill her nose with the scent of eucalyptus and lavender from a neighbor’s aroma garden. She ignored the scratch of the web cable under her arms and focused only on Gian and the magic he performed between her thighs.

  Her abdomen jumped when he splayed his hand over it to stoke her with his thumb while his tongue plunged into her with a spongy firmness that both scandalized and delighted. Whatever apprehension she had left was freed by the hungr
y pellet under Gian’s thumb. Much more blissful sensations radiated from it as her body danced to the silent music of sexual pleasure. Arms outstretched above her head, she stifled her moans in her left bicep. One word ran on a loop in her mind, the word she managed to gasp when Gian replaced his thumb with his tongue and his tongue with two fingers.

  “Gian.”

  Her breathy utterance stoked Gian’s own fires beyond bearing. Every part of him hurt, from his tightly curled toes and the hot knot behind his fly on up to his biceps and the tips of his ears. He made love to her with his entire face, parting her with his nose and running its length along her pliant heat before lapping at her as though she were his favorite dessert and he was determined to collect every drop.

  Clutching handfuls of his T-shirt at his shoulders, Cinder trembled. Gian stood on his knees, grabbed his shirt between his shoulders and tugged it over his head, carefully wiping his face before flinging it behind him, where it landed on a branch. Cinder took off her top and skirt, and with Gian’s help, eased out of her bra.

  As much as it pained him not to touch her, he couldn’t stop looking at her. He’d seen naked women before, lots of them, from his first sexual encounter at fifteen up to his last interlude with Kuriko. Cinder was the first woman he’d seen who looked prettier dressed in dappled moonlight and the shadows of oak leaves than in clothing. She was so lovely, he couldn’t think of her as naked. He thought of her only as his.

  His eyes roamed the places his hands and mouth wanted to search. The hollows behind her collarbones and in her throat. The angle of her jaw and the warm place where it met her earlobe. The unlined space between her finely arched eyebrows and the apples of her cheeks. Her lower lip, still plumped from earlier kisses.

  The action of her hands at his fly broke his contemplation of her. Quickly, he finished what she’d started, slipping his jeans and briefs down and scrambling out of them, careful not to fall backwards out of the tree. He had to turn and sit with his back to Cinder to kick off his athletic shoes, one of which popped out of his grasp. By the time the shoe hit the ground, Gian’s jeans were slung over a branch with the rest of their clothes, giving the tree a lived-in look.