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I woke up in a daze. My mouth was dry and my head was slightly spinning. It took seconds for me to realize Azmir was gone and recall that he had caught a redeye flight out to Atlanta. My mood immediately turned somber. I looked at the time on the nightstand and it read three thirty-three in the morning. It was hard to believe he was just here a few hours ago making wild barbarous love to me until I fell asleep in his arms—actually, I had collapsed from total satiation and he wrapped me into his arms just before I dozed off. He was so...bestial that night, I’d hardly recognized him. I grew aroused as I reminisced.
My thirst unpleasantly drug me from memory lane. I slid off the bed to go get something cool to drink. When my feet hit the floor, I winced from the pain that sapped through my lower back radiating into my hip. That man was wild last night!
After taking a much needed trip to the bathroom, I made my way into the kitchen in desperate need for something to quench my thirst. I rested against the island and marveled at the sensation of the chilled orange juice traveling the full-length of my esophagus. Mmmmmmm! The advent of O.J. was divinely inspired.
Once back into the master suite, I checked my phone and saw nothing from Azmir. I couldn’t deny the twinge of disappointment I felt from it, but decided to return to sleep before crazy thoughts crept in and took over.
A few hours—and five eight ounces of water—later, I was in the hustle and bustle of my day finishing up on staff evaluation interviews for the morning and preparing for lunch. Ben Shivers, one of my new PTs had just exited and closed the door of the conference room where I’d been conducting the evaluations when the phone buzzed and Sharon informed me of a call on line two.
“Rayna Brimm speaking, how may I help you?”
“I think you just did. I miss the sound of your voice…but you sound a little hoarse. Are you coming down with something?”
Azmir’s soothing voice dripping over the line was full of concern. It rendered me under sieged, suspending my brain. His voice always awakened everything carnal in me.
I sighed. “I'm hoarse, deliciously sore on the inside, achingly sore on the outside and have been reprimanding myself for drinking so much yesterday.”
“Yeah, you were throwing them back,” he chuckled.
“And you were throwing me last night. I had no idea you had those positions in your arsenal. I’m still reeling from the things you pulled off!”
Azmir released the sexiest laugh I’d ever heard from a man. Nothing melted my heart and lowered my guards like his chortle did. He didn’t do it to be sensual, it naturally was. It led me to my next question, the one I swore I wouldn’t ask but he put me into such an comfortable state already in this call that it got the better of my judgment. I leaned in and whispered into the phone, being sure to keep my voice low.
“How long have you been having sex?”
“What?” he gasped.
“You know...when did you become sexually active?”
He took a deep breath and let it out before giving me that sexy chuckle once more.
“Come on. Inquiring minds wanna know.”
“I know don’t, man…ten—eleven, maybe? Why?”
“How many?” I shot back before I could think twice about it leaving my mouth.
“How ma—are you sure you want to have this discussion? I am about to go into a meeting with a lucrative deal on the table and you want to have the conversation that will likely end up in you learning something you thought you wanted to know and could handle, but in reality you can't?” I heard the laughter in his undertone.
That was a mouthful! But I had put it out there and there was no turning back.
“Number!” I ordered.
“Why? Please tell me why must you have this knowledge of my past?”
My conscious started roaring. He was right, I would never give him my number so it was unfair to ask for his but I still wanted to know.