It had been 6 months since my husband died in a car accident when I started to come out of my shell and begin to feel alive again. I attributed a lot of my new gusto for life to Logan. We work together in the Marketing Department and had been partnered on a couple of campaigns for the past two years. Early on, we had developed a foxhole friendship when as a result of constant downsizing, we were forced to work overtime every night and traveled together on several campaigns.
He was a gorgeous guy, 6'3, great fit body, black, wavy, hair green eyes, but it was his sexy husky voice, cocky style and sardonic sense humor that kept my panties damp. He was the consummate alpha male. He had a quiet, intelligent, confidence about his work that was compelling and was cocky-asshole in his personal friendships. For me, it was an irresistible combination.
Though historically he never flirted overtly with me, indirectly he peaked my interest in a big way by regaling me with his sexual exploits and tapping into my erotic nature and curiosity in a manner no man ever had. We developed what I thought was a kind of older brother sister relationship -- he was protective, amusing and slightly annoying sometimes.
Because I was a bit shy, it always startled and disconcerted me when I realized a man as interested in me. I am second generation biracial; a real mut with African American, Irish and Puerto Rican in my bloodline, I stood 5'5 and was an exotic mix of curvy and petite with full, firm breasts, flat tummy and tight ass from going to the gym 3 times a week. My parents died when I was young, and I was raised by my maternal grandmother. I was the girl in school who was shy, quiet, and always had my nose in a book. I danced classical ballet and modern until my early twenties, so my body always attracted attention, which I tried to downplay with big clothes and unisex styles. I had two serious boyfriends in my life and married one of them.
The marriage was not a happy one. My husband had been physically and emotionally abusive but that was a secret that I shared with no one, while my husband was alive. And since it's difficult to accept condolences by responding, "please, don't give it another thought, I couldn't be happier" it seemed best to keep my thoughts to myself after his passing.
Recently, I noticed a different tone to Logan's and my friendship. He watched me all the time and seemed more possessive, I assumed it was because of the death of my husband. I could not put my finger on it, but it the trip to Florida changed everything. Our team had worked hard and the campaign and it included a two month preparation for a sales meeting that culminated in a late night celebration at a trendy bar in South Beach with some of our co-workers. One of the sales guys, Lance who was a great looking guy, single, about 6' 2" chocolate brown skin, great body and bald head; had always flirted with me and decided tonight was the night to take it beyond talking.
He asked me to dance. To everyone's surprise including my own, I accepted and we hit the dance floor with vigor to the hoots and encouragement of my friends who seemed happy to see the curvy, young widow in the sexy, black silk dress, enjoying herself. Everyone was laughing and teasing me when we returned to our table, except Logan, whose expression was downright angry. I assumed one of his women had spurned his advances and since that rarely happened he was pouting.
After the dance, Lance and I sat a little off by ourselves for a couple hours while the rest of the group laughed, danced and drank. I am not normally a drinker so 4 or 5 Mojitos later, I was feeling no pain and practically sitting on Lance's lap laughing at every word coming out of his mouth.
As I stood up to go to the bathroom, I noticed Logan was staring at me and Lance, still sitting quietly with a brooding expression. As I passed him I playfully ruffled his hair, and said, "hey pretty boy, enjoy yourself -- we earned it" he grabbed my hand and pulled me to stand between his legs with one hand on my hip, staring at me intently, with a serious expression, and asked me "do you know what you're doing?", with a head nod in Lance's direction. I giggled and held on to his shoulder as I swayed to the music, and said "no and for once I am not gonna think about it, I just want to feel something". His eyes darkened and his breath quickened as he stood and he pulled me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. "go inside and rinse your face with cold water, I am taking you back to the hotel" "Why?" I asked in a hushed voice, scared I had done something stupid.
"Because you don't know what you are doing and you will be sorry tomorrow" he said in a forced voice, full of that throaty sexy huskiness that made me want him so bad my insides ached. "No." I said,"I am not going back to the hotel with you, I am staying with Lance" I affirmed with my bottom lip jutting out, making my little stand.
"Oh really" he asked, one eyebrow lifting, advancing on me slowly as I backed into the wall near the bathroom door.
"Yes" I responded breathlessly for some reason, his expression and body language had me as wet as rain and I couldn't stop my heart from pounding as I looked directly into his darkening green eyes. He licked his bottom lip and I bit my lip harder to keep the little moan inside my throat.
When my back hit the wall, he stopped and put one of his large hands beside my either side of my head, trapping me and leaned down to say in my ear "Isa, get your fine ass in that bathroom and rinse your face and be ready to go back with me to the hotel in 5 minutes or I am gonna drag you back to the hotel and wear your tight ass out" he whispered, as calm as if he had asked me to go to lunch.
