Chapter 4: The morning after, and making copies
Saturday morning came, and Nigha awoke alone in her bed. 'Was it all just a dream?' she thought to herself. She heard the shower and when she went to move, her entire body was sore. No such luck, it was all real and Jason was now in her shower.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand; the red numbers seared 10:45 into her brain. She was still so exhausted that she just flopped back onto her pillow and looked into the bathroom.
Jason was in her shower, and he looked so yummy that she just wanted to go right in there with him. Somehow she knew it would be wrong, no more wrong than what they'd done for so many hours the night before, but that was over and she was going to try to block it out and go back to her life. She had to; her future was with Brett and her boys.
Just as she was convincing herself that this was just a one time thing, he walked out of the bathroom, stark naked. He was so busy drying his hair he didn't even notice that she was awake.
He was indeed the most visually stunning man she'd ever seen. He was that same glorious tan color all over his sculpted body. If she were to describe the perfect man to a sculptor, the end result would be Jason.
Jason; the one she'd been so honest with and told him she'd been attracted to him since the first day they'd met. Jason; the one she'd told that any woman would be lucky to have him. Hell, she thought she was safe; after all she was a happily married mother of two.
Jason; the one she'd fantasized about before realizing that it was indeed him pleasuring her. Jason; the man that took advantage of her and made her do something she'd vowed never to do. Did she regret it?
Why did he have to be so skilled, sooooh skilled? Why couldn't she just hate him for what he'd done to her? Duh, he was the biggest and the best man she'd ever been with.
She was mesmerized by him; his legs long and chiseled, but not overly so. The water droplets he'd missed while drying off, glistening in the morning light. His perfect skin; the color of a latte with too much steamed milk added. His eight pack: yes friggin' eight pack, she wanted to run her tongue all over it, all over him. Damn it, he had to hurry up and leave!
She started to look up at his gorgeous face when she saw those eyes, the color of the ocean in the Caribbean, looking into hers. He was so beautiful, with the exception of the left side of his face which was a little swollen and almost burgundy in color.
He had no idea how long she'd been watching him standing there, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was enjoying the view.
He'd watched her sleeping for about an hour before he finally decided to leave her side to shower. There was nothing he wanted more than to stay there with her, all day, all weekend, but he decided it would be best if he just slipped out before she woke up, he'd done enough, he'd hurt her enough.
He'd tried so hard to get her out of his head, out of his heart, but he feared that after last night it would be impossible. He didn't want her out of his life completely, so he'd follow her lead and hope that they could salvage something of what they had before he'd ruined it.
When he'd caught a glimpse of himself, and the damage she'd done to his face, he chuckled and then winced at the pain. He'd grossly underestimated the power of that firecracker, but it only made his feelings for her deepen.
When he walked out of the bathroom, he just stood there for a moment taking all of it in, her beautiful Nigha brown, naked body lying in stark contrast against the lilac sheets. Nigha brown, his new favorite color; then he saw those eyes.
He was lost in those eyes less than twenty-four hours ago, and now they had the look behind them that he'd waited so long to see, but it was bittersweet.
Now his question had been answered, yes; she did want him, but it hurt his heart because he knew that that night was the only intimate time that they would share.
He'd memorized every curve of her face, every curve of her frame, branding her into his memory knowing that he'd never again see her like that. How in the hell would he get her out of his system now.
"Good morning slugger."
"Good morning lady-killer."
"Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact. I'm sorry I woke you, I'll be out of your hair as soon as I'm dressed."
"Well, I learn more and more about you everyday. I never would've pegged you as the Wham-Bam-Thank You-Ma'am kinda guy. Gosh, does your face feel as bad as it looks?"
"Every bit as bad as it looks, but I was a bastard and I had it coming" he said with a small smile as he adjusted his jaw.
He reached down and put his boxers on, then grabbed his shirt and stopped to look at her again. "Look Nigha, I'm sorry about how I went about what happened, but I'm not sorry that it happened. Quite frankly, it was the best night of my life and if I died today or tomorrow, I'd die a happy man to have spent one night with you..."
She'd stood up and limped her way over to him and put her fingertips over his mouth. She couldn't take another word, afraid of what it would do to her. But deep down she knew that she needed him to answer a question, scared to death of what the answer would be.
"Did you mean it?"
"Yes, I just said..."
"Jason, I heard you last night and I don't really think you were talking to me, but I heard you and I need to know; so I'm asking. Did you mean it?"
"Nigha...I'm...I can't..."
She put her hands on either side of his face, careful not to hurt him. She bent his head down so his eyes would have no choice but to meet hers.
He looked into her eyes, not caring that the object of his desire was standing naked in front of him; he knew that he was cornered and she'd know if he lied to her.
"Jason, I need to know. Did you mean it?" she knew the answer to the question. She could see it in his eyes, but he still wouldn't speak.
"Jason: did you mean it?"
"Yes...yes Nigha I do love you" he said as he sighed and relaxed his shoulders.
"I've been in love with you for months now."
