He shrugged, uneasy about the prospect.
“When I make love…I take my time. I like to look…touch and explore. I try to take in the whole experience because making love for a man like me is extremely rare. A man makes love to a woman he cares about and wants to join in on the experience. When you’re doing it, you don’t rush…you take your time to satisfy all your senses…what you see. What you touch. What you feel. What you hear. I love the sounds of making love,” his voice teetered off reducing to a growl.
My sex was throbbing between my legs and I secretly feared that Azmir could feel it the way he could that night at Mahogany. “Well, what’s the difference between the sounds of making love and smashing?” I asked.
“There doesn’t have to be. But when making love, remember you’re taking your time and taking in all of the entire experience. And when you fucking—I mean smashing—you’re rushing to that nut.”
Things got silent for a minute and I gazed at him unabashed, admiring his handsome facial features. I tried to spark up another conversation by asking about sports. In the middle of the joke I wanted to tell and out of the blue he leaned into me and covered his mouth with mine. This was a bold move after having just eaten garlic flavored food, but his tongue felt so cool and tasted so sweet. It moved slowly, sweeping every part of my mouth. My body immediately screamed for more. Before I knew it, I had grabbed the side of his face drawing him closer. The kiss lasted long but not long enough before he slowly withdrew his tongue and asked, “Ready for dessert?”
“Ummm, yeah!” I whispered while my head spun and heart raced.
Azmir rose from the sofa. I thought at that moment he’d walk me back to that massive master suite and throw me in his king-sized bed. He actually headed toward the kitchen. I was pissed. I want you to be my dessert! He was in there for a few minutes before coming out with a piece of blueberry cheesecake on a saucer with a fork.
“Here you go. But before you have your desert I have something for you.”
He sat down, placed the cheesecake on the coffee table, and lifted up his shirt revealing a road of silky pubic hair sprouting over his bubbled abdominals leading south. The sight of it made me shiver as he pulled a box from his waist. It was rectangular and light blue wrapped in a white silk ribbon. I’d recognize that box almost anywhere. It was from Tiffany’s. I’d purchase a toggle chain and matching bracelet for Michelle’s last birthday as a gift from Erin and me. I didn’t know what to do or say when we handed me the box and sat next to me waiting for me to open it. I did and was left speechless when I saw the content. It was an 18-karat gold Atlas charm bracelet.
“Azmir, you really didn’t have to do this. I’m not sure if I can accept it,” I breathed out gawking at the bracelet.
His eyes were filled with strong will and confidence. “You have to. I owe you for running out on you a few days ago. Plus, I can’t go back after having the store manager, herself, sit with me for almost an hour rummaging through jewelry until I found the perfect piece…a piece that represents us,” he objected.
“…represents us?”
“Yes. Notice the various atlases on the charms. They represent time.”
“What time?”
“…the time it’s taking me to get that ass.”
My eyes shot up to him in disbelief.
I froze wearing a stoic expression. Azmir’s face was impassive as well before cracking a smile and assuring me, “Rayna, I’m kidding,” he snorted in whisper. I slapped him across his arm. I had to laugh at that one.