“What's so funny?” I asked.
“I can't believe I've said that. Just months ago I wouldn’t have cared an ounce about my childhood, but since...” her voice trailed off. There was a brief pause. “...since losing Michelle and now gaining you. It makes me want to love better...love you better, now that I have someone new in my corner again. And love me better so that I can be better at loving others,” she spoke introspectively, barely looking at me.
“I'll go if you come with me.” Wasn’t sure where that came from but it felt right.
Her eyes widened and her mouth collapsed, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to interfere, Azmir.”
“You wouldn't be interfering, just supporting me. I don’t exactly have anyone else in my corner for this type of support either.” She searched my eyes speechless. “We'll go to New York for a couple of days and you’ll get a chance to meet my Earth.”
Her eyes danced around as she considered my words, “I’d be honored.” Her gaze was intense.
Her agreeing was so “un-Rayna”. It was so unusual for her to not hesitate and to go with the natural flow of things. It was honestly arousing. Shit, everything Rayna did aroused me. I reached up to her flawless face to bring it down to mine before engulfing my tongue and emotions in to an impassioned kiss. She must have felt it, too, because not before long she started to tug at my T-shirt.
In no time, we'd worked our clothes off and I laid on top of Ms. Brimm and made good ol’ fashioned love to her missionary style. It felt appropriate and was clearly something she wanted as she pulled me onto of her. Watching her release during her orgasm was so enlivening that it set mine off as well.
I wanted this woman more than I wanted anything in my life before her. I had hoped she was willing to be mine.
Chapter 7
Rayna
It was a crappy Tuesday morning—a nine thirty in the morning and the only two whirlpools that our location owned were malfunctioning type of crappy Tuesday morning. I was standing in the whirlpool with water to my calf muscles surveying the drainage flow, trying to figure out where exactly the problem was. The manufacturing company wouldn't be able to send out a serviceman until the following day. Much of my frustration came from the fact that they'd just been out to repair them the week before.
Wendy, our new PT Assistant, was pacing before me, outside of the pool with the manufacturing company on the phone. I was beyond livid.
“Tell him they must send a different service person out—this time a competent one! There is no way that we have the latest model pool, we’ve only been in operation for what...10 months, and we’ve already had two interruptions in service? And why must we wait until tomorrow? Does he not realize we are a medical business that rely heavily on this machinery? This is unacceptable!” I howled in my conniption.
Wendy repeated my rants word for word. I knew I was wasting my breath. Service wouldn’t be available for another day and I had to deal with it. I had been so wound up over the past week or so and this ordeal didn’t help. With my miniature flashlight, I searched the pool reeling of disgust from my pantyhose being wet and trying to prevent water from splashing onto my midi dress.
Sharon came into the room and as soon as I saw her my anxiety rose to the next level in anticipation of her telling me my next patient had arrived.
“Ms. Brimm?”
Frantic, I belted, “Yes, Sharon!” I felt my eyes bulging from my head and my body tense up.