But his intentions remained unclear as they entered her building and made their way to her second floor apartment. Three weeks ago, when she invited him in, he turned her down cold. But that was only after she made clear it wasn’t going to be a sexual encounter. Tonight was different. It felt light years differently than three weeks ago. Maybe because he had been a total gentleman to her the entire night, and never once propositioned her or even intimated at any propositions. Maybe she was just attracted to him and wanted some. But either way, it was going to be his call.
When they arrived at her door, and she took out the door key, he removed it from her grasp. “Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” he asked her.
“The food was good,” she said, “and Barry was funny.”
“And Agnes?” he asked.
“Was a bitch,” Roz said.
Mick smiled and unlocked her door. “Exactly so. And don’t you forget that.”
Roz was confused. She wasn’t sure if the fact that he was standing so close to her that his wonderful cologne and male scent were intoxicating her, or if she had missed something altogether. “Don’t forget what?” she asked.
“Women like Agnes will be gunning for you every time you are around them.”
Roz still didn’t get it. “Why?” she asked. “Agnes is a very beautiful woman. Movie star beautiful.”
“Yes, she’s beautiful, but she does not have class. She does not know how to turn a man on anymore unless she’s on her back. Agnes, and women like her, are well aware that you need no props. All you need is you.”
Mick said this as his lips were inexplicably almost touching hers. Roz knew they were close. She had no idea that, within seconds, he had moved in this close.
“Do you understand what I am saying, Rosalind?” he asked her.
Roz understood. “Yes,” she said.
“What is going to happen is not going to be about your need for props. It will be about my need for you.”
If Mick couldn’t believe he had uttered such words, and he couldn’t, Roz was equally amazed. He could be playing her, she knew that. He was undoubtedly experienced enough. But if it was play, if this man was toying with her sensibilities just to get inside her panties, she was game.
“Same here,” she said.
Mick’s heart swelled with emotion as he opened her door, handed back her keys, and they entered her apartment.
And if she thought there was an animal side to him, she was about to be proven right. As soon as she moved away from the door he had just closed, he grabbed her by the arm and slammed her soft, pliable body against his rock hard frame. He removed her purse from her clutches and set it aside. And began kissing her with such passion that she felt her entire body go limp.
His lips felt like fire on her lips. And the way he seemed to kiss her harder and harder, as if he was adoring the taste of her, made her love it even more. It had been nearly a year since she and Carmelo broke up, and it had been that long since she had been with another man. But this man was already proving to be different. He was not an easy lover. If his kissing style proved anything, it proved that he was not going gentle into this good night. He was going to fight. Not to win her love, but to win her passion.
Because Mick couldn’t stop releasing his own passion. Because every time he was about to stop kissing her, to end it, the taste changed. And became even sweeter to him. And he couldn’t stop all over again.
They kissed at that door for far longer than either of them would have thought possible. He wrapped her into his big arms and pulled her closer against him, and continued to kiss her. Roz was no shrinking violet either. She was giving almost as good as she was getting, although no woman was going to be able to match Mick’s passion. She would have to be as experienced as he was to match it, and she wasn’t even in the same league.
And even when they finally stopped kissing, their lips began rubbing against each other, and then Mick began kissing her cheeks, her ears, as passion continued to consume them both. And he was right back on her mouth again, kissing her passionately again, needing that taste again, until his erection was becoming so stiff that it was painful. He wanted more. He had to have more.
He moved her to the sofa of her small apartment and laid her down. If she thought he was going to take it slow now, as nobody could sustain passion that long, she was mistaken. Mick sustained it. He lifted her skirt, split the seat of her panties with his bare hands, opened her legs, and began to taste the lips of her vagina as fervently as he had tasted the lips of her mouth.
But that first taste changed him. He ate his share of * in his day, more than his share, but Roz was different. It wasn’t just the taste either, it was the texture. It was the softness of it, the lack of abuse of it, that freshness missing in most women he ate. And he savored her taste. He wasn’t rushing this. He couldn’t.