The month after I moved to New York was the worst of my life. I knew no one, my dog got joint problems because the elevator in our building was always out and we had to take the stairs, and I fell in love with the boy next door. Well, next apartment.
Victor was my neighbor. He's probably the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He's tall and slender, but still muscular. Vic is Roman-god handsome, except the roman gods were usually portrayed as blonde and fair, and he's anything but—he has black-brown eyes and curly, shoulder length black hair, and this olive skin tone that always makes me shiver. And he's shy, so shy he hardly spoke one word to me that whole first month. I'd been giving him the eye from across the hall since I first saw him, but he never seemed to notice me until the night the electricity failed.
I had candles and blankets (I moved the last week in March, which is nasty cold sometimes) so we all shared, and the whole floor had a weenie roast at Mrs. Butler's in 408. That's when Victor first spoke to me, and we talked for hours. After that, he'd drop in my apartment to chat, and he'd hung out once or twice, and once he even went out to the movies with my work buddies and me. But there was nothing more between us, until that fateful spring day in the elevator.
It was a beautiful day in the early part of May—unseasonably warm, actually, and even though I had dressed coolly, in my mid-thigh length batik dress and sandals, I was totally unprepared for the heat. I had just gotten home, after a long day at the office dealing with the problems of New York's crabbiest shoppers (I worked in the back office of one of the biggest department stores. Great discount!) I got on the elevator, which the building super swore up and down he had really, truly, if-I-tell-a-lie-may-I-get-sued, fixed for good. I was tired and a little sweaty from the long, 20 block walk from the office to my apartment, so I was looking forward to kicking my shoes off and taking a cool shower. I was just wishing I had put my shoulder length, curly red hair up before walking so far, when, out of nowhere, Victor jumped on the elevator just as the doors closed.
He was looking good, if a little warm, that day, in a dark blue t-shirt and tight black jeans. He smiled at me, totally dazzling me with even, white teeth in between kissably full lips. I still get the chills looking at his lips. But I digress. That day, he smiled and greeted me, and I noticed he seemed a little uncertain about something. At first, I thought it might have been something I may have said that offended him, or he was upset with me, but the more I watched him look over at me and open his mouth to speak, change his mind, and look away, I realized it was something else. Finally, he must have screwed up some courage from somewhere, because he finally said, 'Hey, Sarah, we're friends, right?'
I had just turned my head to reassure him, that, yes, we were friends indeed, when the ever dependable elevator stopped between the second and third floors. After making sure we were both alright, and neither of us was likely to panic or get claustrophobia, we looked around the elevator for the alarm button. I saw it first, and began to reach for it, when he leaned over and said, 'Don't worry about that, just yet.' I felt his hot breath against my ear, and shivered a little. I looked up at him, and he leaned over me as if he was going to kiss me. Then he said really low, like he was afraid I might really hear him, 'I wish...'
The elevator was getting hot, and I could feel my fair skin begin to flush. Vic looked concerned, and asked 'Are you about to faint, or what?' He unbuttoned the top buttons of my dress to help me cool off. Then, he lifted the hair off the back of my neck, and blew across the skin to cool it. I began to shiver uncontrollably because it was making me feel like someone was twirling brushes under my skin. I asked him to stop.
At first, Victor gave me a really nervous look, like he was afraid he was bothering me. Well, he was, but in a much nicer way than he knew at the time. I guess he could tell the difference, because all of a sudden, he laughed, low and sexy, and asked, 'Do you like that?'
I decided to be honest (I could always claim later I had been closer to fainting than was actually the case), and said, 'Yes, a little too much.'
So Vic stepped around behind me, and started to kiss the nape of my neck; these little, light kisses. Then, he put his arm around my waist. By now, I was getting into this sudden burst of affection from a man who had barely had two words to say to me before. I began to twist my head to the side, so he could reach all those sensitive spots back there. He worked his way around to that little place just under my ear, and began to lick the little drops of sweat off my earlobes, and nibble on them. I started to moan a little because it was just too good, when he suddenly twisted me around in his arms, and stared to work his way up my throat to my chin and then that little dimple between my lower lip and chin. He chewed lightly on my bottom lip, and kissed me oh-so-lightly and said, lips so close they brushed mine with every word: 'How about this? You like this?'
In reply, I reached around the back of his neck to twist my fingers gently in his hair, and pulled his lips down to mine for a full kiss. His hands began working their way down my thigh to knee. He pulled my leg up against the outside of his, so the front of my body was so close to his I could feel the button on his jeans. He began kissing me deeper and deeper and deeper. I began unbuttoning his shirt with my other hand. Slowly.
When I got it unbuttoned, I ran my fingernails over his chest lightly--just enough to drive him crazy. We started to drop to our knees. He smiled in our kiss. He still had his shirt on, half here half gone. Our kiss intensified. I was breathless...I just opened my mouth to him and he dove in. His tongue started caressing every inch of my mouth, my lips, everything. I forgot everything except the sensation and the heat.
He unbuttoned my dress all the way to the waist, and teased my skin with his long fingers. Both of my eyes were closed; it was only the feel of his beautiful artists hands leaving wakes of sheer pleasure across my skin, no sight. No sounds. Except for our soft moaning. Nothing was coming between us except our clothes. Nothing else.
He took my shirt off ever so gently. No man had ever been this way with me before. Reverent, shy. Incredibly sexy.
'My God, Sarah, you have such beautiful skin, and that perfume is just going to make me lose my mind.'
'Victor...please don't stop...kiss me again, please.'
While he kissed me so wildly, so passionately, he brushed my nipples with his hand. He caressed them like he was touching a precious diamond. At this point, my breath was so fast, I thought it was going to fail me. I took his shirt off with so much fury; scratched his skin so sharply, that he cried out a little. I had my hands all over his body. I took his hair in my hands; I caressed his hair.
'Why...why when I looked at you before...why didn't you ever--why have you tortured me like this?' I was panting and babbling like an idiot, but I wanted an answer. He ripped my bra off, then he removed my dress and everything else. I returned the favor, helping him out of his jeans and pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. We were crawling like serpents on the floor. We would reach for each other, we would find each other. It was a never-ending quest.
He had my hair in his hands, it draped his shoulders. I pulled his hair to my face, and felt drugged, allured, by the scent of his hair and his sweat. I could feel his lips, exploring my body. I let him go lower and lower down my body. There was nothing between us, so...I didn't care. He found my most intimate spot, my secret garden, and he caressed me with his tongue until I was on the verge of crying. He didn't stop.
