He rested his mouth on my ear as he held me close and twirled me around then dipped me towards the floor. Who knew Azmir Jacobs could ballroom dance?
I was aroused. The stressors from work had dissipated, instantly withered away. I was now in a cocoon with this man who had turned me his slave—per the lyrics of the tune—with his swag. He smelled so good. I got lost in a trance. Does he mean what he's relaying to me by way of the lyrics of this song? In all honesty, it didn't matter. I was caught up. I didn't want to come out of this web he’d ensnared.
Exhausted? Who's exhausted?
While James Moody blew his horn Azmir had me suspended in the air, dip to the floor, staring into the depths of my eyes. My lips were ajar, wanting his. He eventually broke the seductive gaze with a panty snatching smirk then let me up.
“Happy you’re home. Hungry?” he muttered as he ambled toward the kitchen.
Not for food. “Ummmmm...yeah,” I responded while gathering my bearings. Seconds later, he brought out a glass of red wine. The place smelled delicious.
“Mmmmm...what's Boyd whipped up tonight?” I asked as I slipped off my Monolos, courtesy of Mr. Jacobs.
“I gave him the night off,” Azmir informed as I took a huge swig of my wine.
Oh.
“Smells good,” I complimented.
“My specialty,” he said as he approached me. “Can I get you anything before dinner? Would you like to freshen up or unwind?”
I lie. “No. I'm ready to eat,” I said noncommittal. I would've much preferred jumping on him as an appetizer.
“Good. The salads are on the table.” He extended his hand to me. I took it and felt a current run through my body.
At the dining room table he pulled my chair out. I moved into the table just before he scooted my chair underneath me. He kissed the top of my head before taking his across from me.
“So, how was your day, Ms. Brimm?”
I took a forkful of my Caesar salad. Mmmmmmm…tasty!
“Long,” I managed a smile.
Azmir took a sip of his wine. “So are you still considering Saturday hours as you mentioned a few days ago?”
I took a long gulp of my wine. Ooooh. My buzz was setting in. Drinking on an empty stomach will do that. Azmir chuckled. There’s no doubt that I was the subject of his humor. The alcohol settled in by the second; I couldn’t give a damn. I took notice of his teeth. They were so well aligned with his supple lips. I wondered what they taste like with traces of wine on them. Have I ever tasted them that way? Suddenly I couldn't recall.
“Ms. Brimm, you don’t want dinner right now, do you?’ he asked in his CEO mien, though his eyes sparkled with deep desire.
Shit! Am I panting out loud? How does he know? Oh, well.
I gave him an unequivocal “No!”
I batted my eyes feeling bashful for the first time when it comes to sex with Azmir. Who was I fooling? I was in heat. I hadn't had intercourse in over a month. I obeyed the doctor and today was the day that I was cleared for sex. And I hadn't been intimate with Azmir since our return due to our conflicting schedules.
He rose from his seat and traveled to my side of the table. “Follow me. I have something to show you,” he commanded.
I followed on his heels. Clearly this man could lead my hot ass straight into the pits of hell and I'd fit right in with the heat.
We headed to the master suite and then into the bathroom where I saw a warm and soft glow of lighting. He had the whirlpool drawn with dozens of candles burning all around the tub, down the steps and into a walkway leading up just a few feet from the door. His eyes stayed fixated on me as I admired the luminosity of the fiery ambiance.
Oh, my! He went the full mile to create a romantic landscape. This could have only meant he was looking forward to tonight. To me. To be anticipated is an enchanting marvel. Overwhelmed, I turned to Azmir. He was wearing the most innocent, purely impassioned and prurient expression.