Black Female Page 7

  "Hello, Lena," I said studying her carefully. She was looking a little shy as she answered, with her fingers threaded together and her large dark eyes looking at me nervously. Good, I had an effect on her and this pleased me immensely.

  "Hello, Mr. Carter,"

  "Jonathan."

  "Jonathan," she repeated.

  "Please, take a seat."

  I pulled out a chair for her, then pushed it in for her to sit.

  I went around the table to sit down in my seat and glimpsed her checking me out. I didn’t see the lustful once over she’d given me the first time I saw her, but I saw excitement in her eyes. I had to make sure she was okay first considering the fact that George said she refused to show her ID.

  “I hope George the concierge wasn’t too rude?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

  She brushed it off. “Perhaps he was just doing his job,” she answered, apparently unaffected.

  “If he was, I apologize. I occasionally have a few unsolicited visitors so they screen everybody the same way,” I explained, feeling a little foolish.

  “No problem, I understand,” she answered simply.

  I was relieved everything was fine; I relaxed a little more.

  "Shall we have lunch?" I offered, signaling the waiter who was glancing at us.

  The waiter took our orders for juices while I explained the short menu to Lena.

  "Being a restaurant only for the residents, the choice isn't extensive. But I've tasted everything and it's all great. What would you like?" I asked, glancing at the choice available.

  She scanned the menu quickly.

  "Perhaps I'll try the Fettuccine?" she responded, looking at me with those almond eyes.

  "Great choice,” I nodded, “same for me."

  After we’d ordered, I turned my attention back to Lena who was studying me with a speculative look, as though bracing herself for what I was about to say.

  "So, Lena," I began calmly. "Tell me about yourself."

  She looked surprised.

  "Well, what do you want to know?"

  "Everything."

  She laughed briefly, putting a smile on my face. "That's a lot to want to know."

  Ok, so I’d ask specifics. "Do you have family?"

  She took a sip of her juice before replying."Yes, father and mother divorced."

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “No, I’m an only child.”

  Oh, like me. I guess we had that in common. I’d always wondered why she moved from California to Georgia.

  "I know you are from LA. What made you come to Atlanta?"

  "My mom lives here."

  “So she has always lived here?”

  “She was born here in Georgia, but after she met my dad they moved to LA, then after their divorce she moved back here. I came here to reconnect with her.”

  She paused for a moment then added, "I also just needed to start afresh after a heartbreak."

  Heartbreak? Who the fuck would dare to break Lena’s heart?

  I took a sip of my drink and asked, "Who broke your heart?"

  "It doesn't matter anymore," she said dismissing it. "I'm done with my past. I really love Atlanta though. I've made a life here."

  Mmm; classic diversion tactic. Miss Williams was obviously hiding something she didn’t want to talk about.

  "You obviously don't want to discuss your heartbreak so I'll leave it at that," I said smiling.

  "Well, nobody likes to talk about their past heartbreaks; has nobody ever broken yours?"

  She was right; I didn’t want to talk about past heartbreaks; certainly not about Ashley my ex-fiancée. While I was glad our engagement was off, it had still hurt somewhat. And coincidentally, she’d tried calling me just that morning for some unknown reason, but I’d ignored her call. I pushed thoughts of the past from my mind and just then the food arrived.

  "Ah, saved by the food," I quipped, relieved I didn’t have to answer her question.

  The pasta was great and we ate quietly for several minutes. I looked up to see her enjoying another forkful.

  "Enjoying the food?" I asked.

  "It’s great," she replied, focused on her meal. It was lovely to see a woman eat for a change and order something besides rabbit food.

  We chatted pleasantly about nothing in particular and I discovered that Miss. Williams was not only smart as I already knew from the office; she was also a pleasure to be around. No stupid talk of the latest fashionable must-haves and surgical techniques in plastic surgery. Just decent, normal talk about the state of our city, the weather changes our climate was experiencing and even a discussion about an upcoming music festival where a popular artist would perform. She was down to earth and I found myself relaxing in her presence, like I would with an old friend.

  After our meal, I offered her more drinks and dessert which she declined. With no further reason to still remain in the restaurant, I decided it was time to move things to my place. I didn’t want to talk about personal matters with her down here where we both had to be on our best behavior.

  "Do you mind if we go up to my penthouse?" I asked nonchalantly.

  She eyed me suspiciously and I could tell she had reservations about going to my apartment. That would be a first; all women I’d ever known were keen to rush into my digs. I recalled that George had told me some air filters would be replaced this weekend in the restaurant. That was my perfect excuse.

  "The maintenance team needs to repair something in this section," I said stretching the truth quite a bit. "They’d informed residents that we have to be out for the afternoon."

  I rose and came around to help her up.

  "Mmhm." she answered suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. I smiled at her response; I’d heard that expression in African American culture and was impressed how something so simple can cover a whole multitude of statements, from “I don’t believe you” to “I know what you really want”. I feigned ignorance and took her hand in mine, leading her to the elevator. I could sense her nervousness at having her hand held but then I was a Southern gentleman; we were known for our charm in some circles.

  I led her to my private elevator and reluctantly let her hand go, to swipe my thumb print on the panel to go to my apartment. Only three other apartments in this building had private elevators and it was one of the reasons I’d bought the penthouse. It was designed to stop in the basement, the front desk, the restaurant floor and then my apartment. When I visited other floors I used regular elevators.

  Chapter Ten

  When we arrived in my penthouse I led her to the living room that had double volume wall to ceiling glass, with fantastic views of Atlanta’s greenery and Downtown glistening in the distance.

  I offered her a seat. She looked around then out over the city.

  "Beautiful view," she commented, clearly impressed.

  "Yeah," I agreed. I remembered my manners.

  "Can I offer you a drink? Glass of wine?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  “Red or White?”

  “Dry white, if you have it.”

  I walked towards the kitchen and Lena followed behind me, perching herself on one of the bar stools. I could sense her watching me as I selected a two thousand dollar bottle of 2005 French Pouilly Fume I’d been saving for a special occasion.

  "So you've always lived by yourself?" she asked.

  "In this penthouse, yes," I replied, opening a drawer to get the cork-screw.

  "You haven't always lived here?"

  "No; I've been here for a year."

  “Nice kitchen; do you cook?”

  “Not really. You?”

  “Most of the time.”

  Oh so she loved to cook; it was rare to meet anybody who bothered these days with all our dining choices in Atlanta.

  She fell silent for a moment, watching me uncork the bottle and fill our glasses two thirds.

  "There you go,” I said sliding her glass towards her.

  "Thanks," she said, shyly. I smiled
at her, lifting my glass in a toast before taking a sip.

  "What are we drinking to?" she asked smiling curiously.

  "You."

  "I'll drink to that,” she answered, raising her glass then taking a sip.

  "Come," I said, leading her back towards the living room, bringing the wine bottle with me.

  We sat down in the living room. I normally enjoyed my silence but I wanted her comfortable and relaxed, so thought maybe playing a little music would help; just to have some sound in the background. I placed my wine glass on the table and took my iPad to scroll through the music playlist.

  “It’s really quiet in here, what kind of music do you listen to?” I asked, wondering if Daughtry or Creed might be to her taste.

  “I don’t think you have my kind of music,” she answered with a smirk.

  I grinned back at her and quickly opened my iTunes app.

  “You’d be surprised, you know. We cater for all tastes around here,” I said clicking the search area ready for whatever she may request.

  “Do you have anything by Anita Baker?”

  I’d never heard of her but quickly typed her name into the search engine. About five or six albums popped up in the search results and I immediately downloaded them all.

  “We have everything by Anita Baker,” I said, hoping I could get away with the half truth while they downloaded.

  “Oh, really?” she asked incredulously. “What’s your favorite song by her?”

  One of the albums was ready to play and I quickly opened it.

  “Mmm…that one,” I said, randomly choosing the first song on the album which instantly began to play a song I’d never heard of throughout the penthouse, coming through my recessed speakers.

  I watched her smiling at me knowingly and grabbed my glass of wine, taking a sip, watching her back.

  “So what do you do for fitness?” she asked, trying but failing to appear casual.

  “Kickboxing three times a week with my trainer, weight-training twice a week.”

  “That’s seriously hectic. I try and do a little weights and some running a few times a week myself; but I can’t seem to shift weight off certain areas.”

  “Where? You mean your butt?”

  She blushed and looked scandalized for a moment before effortlessly composing herself.

  “Well, yeah. Nothing works on that area,” she replied, slightly embarrassed by my bluntness.

  Why she would want to change that, I have no idea. Before I’d experienced it I might have thought the same thing, but after our encounter I was sold on her assets. She had no idea she could enslave an entire multitude of men with her figure.

  “It’s perfect; you’re perfect,” I said looking at her longingly, recalling our incredible night in the conference room on Monday evening. I felt myself becoming hard and knew I could no longer prolong this chit chat. I was getting impatient to have her beneath me, especially since she was looking at me all flustered and not quite knowing how to respond to my compliment.

  I needed a moment alone to compose myself before I made my move, so I took a large gulp of wine for Dutch courage, excused myself and went upstairs to my suite.

  I pulled off my T-shirt and kicked off my shoes, wondering how I was going to make my move. She wasn’t making it easy for me; I had to work for it with her which was completely unusual.

  I went to my bathroom and splashed water on my face to try bring my desire under control, then ran my wet hands through my hair, brushing it back.

  I walked back into my bedroom and did a few press-ups, just to give myself a little muscle pump, grabbed a couple of condoms and put them in my pocket before going back down stairs shirtless. It was show time.

  When I walked back down, I saw a look of amused shock on her face. She raised a questioning eyebrow, sweeping her eyes over me.

  "Hot day," I said as though that explanation was adequate to explain why I was shirtless. She wasn’t buying it, but I decided to play it cool. I might be lucky and she might just come onto me instead.

  "Another glass?" I asked, reaching for the bottle to top up my own.

  "No thanks," she replied standing up. “I should go."

  Shit; she can’t leave now, I thought urgently, setting my glass down. She began to walk towards the elevator and I followed her, catching up to her in a few strides. This was it; I wanted her and this was my chance.

  "Lena,” I said soothingly. “I asked you here to talk and haven't said what I wanted to say."

  "What did you want to say?" she asked, turning around.

  "This."

  Chapter Eleven

  I reached for her hand and pulled it around my waist, then tipped her chin up with my forefinger and kissed her. My kisses were soft and seductive; meant to arouse her. Her luscious lips were full and perfect for kissing like this and I felt her other arm go around my waist while I lifted her face to mine.

  My craving for her was intense and my dick was already fully erect and ready, but I wanted to take my time with her. I turned her around away from the elevator and walked her backwards to the living room. I didn’t want her to break the kisses and possibly escape from me as she’d done at the mixer when I’d kissed her. I could sense that she was just a moment from making this unpleasant decision.

  "I can't do this," she whispered against my lips.

  No way. I had to convince her.

  "Yes we can,” I insisted between kisses. “We can do anything we want."

  "No, Jonathan."

  "Yes. I know you want this. I want this." My kisses became deeper and more probing, demanding more from her and she responded passionately. She could see how much I wanted her, but I needed a clear message that she felt the same way, or I’d have to let her go.

  I had her back against the thick glass windows and my hands on either side of her face. I don’t think she knew just how much power she had over me in that moment. But if she said no one more time, I’d pull away immediately. At the moment she was giving me mixed signals by kissing me back as deeply as I was kissing her.

  I paused from our kiss and looked deeply into her eyes, to see if she really wanted me to stop and I’d respect her decision.

  "Lena, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" I confessed to her.

  She fixed her brown eyes to my blue and in that moment she got it. I saw all her reservations melt away as she suddenly pulled me to kiss her hard, running her fingers through my hair. I grabbed her luscious ass and pulled her to me, making her feel my rigid length between us. She pulled back for a split second and pulled her shirt over her head. I quickly unclasped her bra and placed my hands on her chocolate mounds. I lowered my mouth onto her dark nipples, sucking and pulling them with my lips. The sight of my pale hands running over her breasts was more than I could take. I needed to fuck now.

  Without warning, she slid quickly down my body onto her knees and fumbled with the opening of my shorts.

  Fuck; she was going down on me. I hadn’t anticipated this; I didn’t know how long I could last if she put my cock in her mouth. I gasped as she freed my heavy cock dangling dangerously close to her lips. I placed my hands against the glass, bracing myself for the assault of her moist tongue. I nearly blacked out as she twirled her tongue on the moist head of my cock, then engulfed it with her mouth, licking and sucking with enthusiasm while stroking it with both her hands around my shaft. I watched my white dick disappearing and reappearing between her chocolate lips, feeling the moist heat of her mouth with each pull as she hummed her enjoyment. I couldn’t watch anymore. She was going to unman me within seconds.

  "Fuck, Lena!" I growled, shutting my eyes tightly to try and withstand it. This seemed to spur her on and she licked and sucked harder and faster, driving me onto climax. I tried to reason with her.

  "Lena, I won't last long, please. Slow down,” I begged.

  She drew my cock out of her mouth and ran her tongue along the underside with long, slow licks. I opened my eyes again, feeling my balls dra
wing up tight, ready to burst with just one more lick. My body was glistening with sweat and I felt it drip down my forehead.

  I watched as pre-cum surfaced at the tip and Lena lapped it up fast, not hiding her enjoyment of my cock. I couldn’t take it anymore; I was seconds away from coming in her mouth and I had to stop her now.

  "No, I can't," I insisted, pulling her up to stand.

  "Taste yourself," she said huskily kissing me, while I sucked erotically on her full bottom lip.

  I took her hand and lead her to the couch. I helped her sit then knelt in front of her, removing her shoes and jeans while she watched me intently. She tried to reach for me but I eased her gently back onto the couch.

  "It's my turn now," I said, my voice needy with desire. I spread her legs wider and pulled her down to the edge of the couch so she was in line with my rigid cock.

  I looked down at the beauty of her body, studying her dramatic curves and flat stomach. Her chocolate brown skin was glowing with a sheen of sweat and her gorgeous natural breasts with stiffen peaks looked perfect. This woman was built to fuck.

  I trailed my tongue slowly from her navel up between her sensuous breasts. I made a mental promise to myself that one day I’d fuck between these two beautiful breasts.

  I ran my tongue again, this time beginning right from the center of her lacy, black panties and leaving a moist trail to her nipple then repeating the same to the other side. She arched into my tongue, groaning with pleasure. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and I needed her to know.

  "Do you know how beautiful you are?" I asked, meeting her gaze. I trailed my hands over her body and around her breasts.

  "Look at your beautiful, chocolate skin. So beautiful. So exquisite."

  She looked down to watch me touching and exploring her seductive body. I knew she was as aroused as I was and I needed her to know for how long I’d dreamt of this day.

  "Lena, I want you so much," I confessed, looking into her eyes that were hooded with lust.