I’m sure this is Dawn’s doing. Everyone knows Sandra Rose is an Atlanta-based blogger, Dawn’s hometown. I will pay anything that Dawn slipped her these photos. It now makes sense why she wanted to handpick my stylist for the event.
I slam the laptop shut and toss it on the other side of the couch. I need air so I go out onto the deck, off the master suite and gaze out into the water. I’m sulking internally. My fiancé is pissed with me—and with good reason. And his bitch of a PR representative, in all her creative ways, is manipulating her way into Azmir’s world. I refuse to bring this to Azmir’s attention. I’m no weakling! I’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with her in his life. A method of decimating my clean up woman.
I brood over the whole ordeal for the remainder of the day. My ruminating even follows me to bed that night.
I’ve just dozed off when Azmir slips between the sheets and pulls me into his hard frame, snuggling me beneath him. His scent is tantalizing, his arms comforting, and his sentiment of still being committed to me in spite of my emotional deficiencies is felt in every chamber of my heart.
God, I love this man…
~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next few weeks, time seemed to have sped by. I spend my first Christmas with Azmir, and in true A.D. fashion, he went overboard with gifts and surprises. Outside of diamond earrings and bracelets, designer shoes and clothing I opened boxes to, he also bought me a 2014 Panarema. This car has more power than I care to have at my fingertips or beneath my foot. We agree that I’ll keep Azmir’s 2012 Benz that I covet because it was once his, and use the sports car on special occasions—whenever they’d be.
I couldn’t top him if I tried, so I kept my gifts simple and practical. After all, Azmir is Muslim and didn’t grow up exchanging gifts on Christmas mornings. I didn’t want to overwhelm him. After having him open up ties, socks, athletic wear, cologne, and other traditional gifts, I handed him an envelope that contained the deed to my house in Redondo Beach. I explained it symbolized my conceding to his metaphoric chase. I declared no more running, and if I do freeze up, not going very far to where he can’t find and reel me in. I submitted to an infinite future with him.
Azmir must have gazed at the document unseeing for at least five minutes; I nearly held my breath the entire time. Then, in an instance, he pounced on me, taking me down on the floor, aside the Christmas tree, and sucked my entire mouth into his. It was more feral than his usual style, but I felt the emotion behind the maneuver. Azmir kissed me breathlessly.
“I swear, I’m going to work so fucking hard for your happiness, Rayna. I swear this with everything I have,” he murmured into my mouth, his voice was strained and I could feel his racing heart through our clothes.
I choked back on a cry, filled to the brim with emotions. I felt my bottom lip quiver when I whispered, “You already do. Beyond anything I ever felt I deserved, you’ve poured so much into me. I now know love on an improbable level. I owe you so much, Mir.”
There was so much more that I wanted to say, but couldn’t muster the courage, like how he unknowingly was the catalyst behind me seeking help from a higher power. Azmir makes me experience emotions I’m unfamiliar with and don’t know how to manage. His presence in my life has caused me to see flaws that I didn’t know I’d owned. After experiencing him in my world, I never want the numbness I oddly found comfort in before him. It was a pivotal moment for us. The best Christmas ever for me.
Later that evening, we had dessert with Yazmine and Samantha. I’m really trying to open up to my mother, but I need more time. She’d been in town for nearly two months and I was still adjusting. Yazmine is great. Poor thing hinted a request for grandchildren and I went stiff. Perceptively, Azmir redirected the conversation and my mother backed him up. I’m improving, but not quite cured.
Azmir flew the four of us to the East Coast for the New Year. Yazmine wanted to be with family and friends for the occasion. I guess she missed the folks she left behind to start a new life near her only child. Samantha mentioned visiting Akeem and wanting to be with Chyna, needing to spend as much time as possible with her now that she has a clearer head. She and I agreed to visit Akeem together.
Azmir wanted a change of scenery for the holiday, so he arranged for us to recite the countdown in a plush suite in the Big Apple. We lay in front of a crackling blaze, wrapped in a fur throw, nuzzling and snickering. Azmir lay on top of me, my thighs clamped around him after he’d exploded from another orgasm. We were competing and he was catching up to me. I warned it was close to countdown time. He refused to move, saying he wanted to toast the New Year just as we were. And we did. When the clock struck midnight, we toasted, kissed, sipped, and eventually slipped back into another amazing lovemaking session.
What a way to start a new year with the only man I adore.
~~~~~~~~~~
Azmir
“He’s still off the fuckin’ radar?” I ask with incredulity.