Chapter8
They walked out of the café together, with Mark introducing himself formally this time. “So, my name is Mark.”
“Yes, I know.” She gave a short laugh. She was feeling giddy over him now, a stranger.
“And you’re Aliya.”
“That is correct.”
“Aliya—?”
“Jones. Aliya Sorrento Jones.”
“So, you have Spanish ancestry?” he asked.
“Puerto Rican. From my mother’s side.”
“Ah, that explains the oozing hotness, if you don’t mind me saying,” he said with a sheepish grin.
She didn’t mind at all; he was flattering her on purpose, but she didn’t care. A wind picked up, and Aliya quickly held down the bottom part of her dress. “Oops, mustn’t have that Marilyn Monroe moment here.”
He laughed. “So, would you like to grab dinner first? Or some happy hour?”
“I’m allergic to alcohol,” she quickly said.
“Well, you can have mocktails, and I can have my drink,” he told her. “I should’ve gone for three shots of espresso.”
“And risk a heart attack?”
“Right. To the booze,” he said. “Where’s a good spot? Know anywhere nice where we can sink our feet into the sand for a while?”
She shook her head. “Nope, I don’t go out much. With work and studies and all.”
“What are you taking up?”
“Dentistry,” she replied.
“Ah, now I know where to have my teeth cared for. How about we go there?” he asked her, pointing to a recently opened bar made from a container van. It looked quaint from afar. He saw her nod.
They crossed the street, briskly walking to the other side.
“Funny thing is,” he began, “I’ve lived near the beach for so long, but I’ve barely enjoyed it.”
“Same here,” she sighed.
“So, shall we?” he said, taking a big gulp of the salty air. “We wouldn’t want to forget the little things that count.”
She smiled, wishing all the guys she had met were this pleasant. Mark Smith was too good to be true. They took a seat on the makeshift wooden porch, with torches on every corner, illuminating the deck as the sun began to set.
“Which mocktail will you have?” he asked her.
“I guess I’ll have the Virgin Watermelon Margarita.”
He nodded, calling the waitress out, prattling his order. “You don’t mind calamari, do you?”
“Not at all.”
As soon as the waitress excused herself, Mark turned back to face Aliya. “Am I taking away precious time from you?”
She shook her head. “I’m on a break, just like you are. So, let’s enjoy while we can?”
“Let’s,” he said, as his beer arrived, and her drink arrived as well. “Cheers.”
She grinned. “Cheers.”
Mark took a sip of his drink, pouring it in a glass. “So, Aliya Sorrento Jones, really, why are you in a coffee shop? You could be anywhere with that face and that brain.”
“You don’t even know me too well,” she replied, taking a smaller sip of her mocktail. It was too sugary, but she didn’t complain. She was here for company, as was he.
“I know what I see,” he said. “And I see someone pretty and smart.”
“I just read a lot,” she laughed. “I’m not as smart as you assume I am.”
“Hey, I’m not judging you negatively. And you’re the first woman to react negatively about it,” he said. “Anything else I need to know? Am I having drinks with someone who’s dating exclusively?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be here,” she replied. “It’s called exclusive dating for a reason.”
He grinned, liking her answer. “Where are you studying? Dentistry, was it?”
She nodded. “UM. I’m in my third year.”
“You’re from Miami?”
“Pensacola, actually.”
“Never been there, even if I’ve been flying around a lot. Weird, I’ve been to Africa and the Faroe Islands, but never to Pensacola.”
“What did you do again?”
“IT stuff,” he said, as if hesitating to elaborate. “I think I’m a glorified secretary in some cases; it pays okay, but you know,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I think I deserve more.”
Don’t we all? “Well, hard work pays off,” she said slowly. “At least, I hope mine does.”
“Your folks still work?”
She shook her head. “They’re retired. Well, my dad is. What about you?”
“Well, my dad died when I was in elementary. My mom’s… semi-retired,” he said. “I still live with her, though, since I’ve got younger brothers and a sister to care for.”
“How young are they?”
“They’re all in high school or college,” he said. “The great thing is, my dad left us enough money to finish the important stuff, especially education.”
Aliya felt touched by this admission. He was a sort of family man, wasn’t he? Even if he had no kids of his own—or did he? She wanted to ask him if he was seeing anyone else, as bold as that would have sounded.
“Any crazy ex-girlfriends I should know about?”
“I’m still looking for one.”
“A future, crazy ex-girlfriend?” she said, raising a brow.
“A girlfriend,” he laughed. “It’s not easy to find one in Florida, let alone in Miami.”
Her face had begun to feel warm, and she was glad the lights were dimmed out. He was flirting with her, wasn’t he? She wanted him to, she realized; after that disastrous lunch with James, she needed to feel wanted, at least. Mark made the effort of wanting her presence, instead of finding ways to annoy her.
Her phone rang, and she excused herself, checking to see who it was. It was James… Taking a deep breath and forcing a smile, she put the phone on silent mode.
“Was it anyone important?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “It’s no one.”
*
Aliya smiled as she walked up to her 3rd floor apartment. She could hear a crowd of revelers somewhere, most likely university students. It had been such a calming happy hour—well, he put the happy in ‘happy hour,’ didn’t he?
They had an instant connection, as if they had known each other for a while. He had insisted on walking her home, but she prevailed in the end, telling him it was reserved for another time. He was going to ask her out; she felt it. He had asked for her number quickly.
She had just taken off her shoes when a loud knock came on the door. She frowned, not expecting visitors. It was past eight in the evening. Looking through the peephole, she saw James. She gave an inaudible gasp, then she closed her eyes. What in the hell—?
She was going to ignore this. She wasn’t home yet. And how did he know where she lived? Stalker! That friggin’ stalker! She didn’t want to open the door, but he wouldn’t stop knocking, and the knocking got louder, until she knew it was going to annoy the other tenants. She flung it open, her face clearly bothered.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he demanded, incensed.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused,” he said, almost roughly, entering her apartment and closing the door behind him.
For a moment, it scared her, but she quickly resolved herself. “You don’t answer a question with another question.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
She huffed, grabbing her phone from her bag. She saw three text messages and three missed calls, all from him. “What’s it to you? I was busy.”
“I thought something happened to you,” he uttered, raising his chin up.
“You thought what—?” She stopped in the middle of her sentence. Did she just hear it right? Was he concerned for her? His face didn’t show it; his eyes were still cold. These were all words, just to screw her up…
“You heard what I said.”
“Why would you think that? It was the end of any future lunch ‘conversations,’” she said, emphasizing on the last word. “You didn’t even have to bother about me anymore.”
“I want to,” he said.
“You’re being creepy. Get out of my house,” she told him, pointing a finger at the door. “I said, get out of my house.”
“I won’t get out, not until you go on a date with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, so you’re asking me out, now?” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “Are you for real?”
“This is as real as it can get. I needed time to think.”
“I don’t,” she said tartly. “You’re an asshole, and I don’t associate with your kind.”
“You don’t even know me well enough.”
“What you showed me was more than enough. You enjoy making people feel like they’re trash, and I don’t want to feel that way from you.”
“It wasn’t my intention.”
“Cause you just wanted to get my attention?” She shook her head. “Too late. You could have done that last week.”
“Like I said, I needed time to think,” he said, gritting his teeth at the end. “It’s not easy for me to—”
“Date people? Get into a relationship?”
“Will you stop interrupting me?” he snapped at her. “I act this way because I feel different around you.”
“Oh, do I have an asshole satellite on my head?” she told him, her voice rising higher. “Can’t you be nice, like genuinely nice like that guy—” She stopped.
“What guy?” His eyes narrowed. James walked up closer to her, almost breathing down her face. “What guy?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “A guy I met.” Her eyes opened, defensive to the situation. “I don’t know what the hell we are. I slept with you once, and you’re acting this way already? You were the one who didn’t want to date people exclusively because of some sob-story. Oh, boo-hoo, I was a love-starved kid.”
“It just might be true,” he said, still gritting his teeth.
“I haven’t dated anyone in so long, and here you come, wanting some random lunch with me. How do you think this whole arrangement makes me feel? I don’t want it; I don’t want this for me. It’s like I work for you; it’s like you’re everyone’s boss—well, maybe you are, but you aren’t mine.”
“Careful, I see a vein popping out on your forehead. And who was the guy?”
“I said he was someone I just met.”
“You went out with someone who—”
“Who I didn’t know? Just like what I did with you? I like to live dangerously.” Her voice was laden with sarcasm.
It was something he hated, someone who defied him, and yet, he couldn’t help but want to hear her talk, hear her spout out a few profanities here and there, just to be near her. This was exactly the kind of drama he had wanted to avoid. He was being masochistic; no, he was being sadomasochistic.
He closed his eyes, counting from one to five. One to ten was too long. One, two, three, four, five… He opened his eyes, grabbed her face and kissed her.
Aliya pushed him back, her mouth still locked onto his. She was struggling underneath his sudden embrace. “Get away from me,” she gasped, pulling away from his lips.
“Tell me you didn’t want that,” he breathed. “Tell me, and I’ll never bother you again.”
She took a deep breath, staring at his eyes, almost drowning with the deep blue in them.
“I didn’t hear your answer,” he whispered, his lips hovering millimeters away from hers. “I want to hear it from your lips.”
She almost gasped, feeling his breath so close to her own. She said nothing still, and she knew he was getting impatient.
“What will it be, Aliya?” he asked her, caressing her cheek with his nose, as he held onto the small of her back with one hand.
It sent shivers down her spine. “Just…” she mustered, “don’t stop.”
He smiled, knowing the invitation was going to be well compensated. His other hand trailed down her back, and she nearly shuddered. He kissed her again, and she tasted sugary; it was a taste he had missed since last Sunday. How many days had it been since Sunday?
James closed his eyes, knowing he deserved this triumph, and his kisses grew bolder and hotter. He heard her moan ever so slightly, and it made him hard. They stumbled, and she was groping on the buttons of his crisp shirt as he nearly ripped apart the dress she was wearing.
Her breasts heaved up and down his chest, and he felt her nipples through her lace brassiere. He almost groaned at the touch of it, and he couldn’t help but squeeze it hard. She gasped as he did, and he squeezed it again as they fell onto her bed.
Aliya traced her tongue on his neck, and he took a deep breath in, his hands roaming around her back. Had she always been this curvy? He gripped her buttocks as she continued to tease him with her lips, and her bare-naked legs rubbed against his own, filling him with scintillating pleasure.
You’re mine, James told himself, looking at Aliya’s face, bursting with ecstasy. She bit her lower lip as he traced the outline of her panties, and as soon as he got to the center of her clit, he found her silk panties wet. He flipped her on the bed, and she was now panting underneath him. Without another word, he slipped a finger into her, and she moaned aloud, her clit throbbing. He parted her folds deftly, enjoying the look on her face, and the pleasure he was giving her.
Aliya saw the faint smile on his lips the moment she opened her eyes. She had wanted this, needed this from him. He was a growing addiction that was dangerous to her psyche—but at that moment, she didn’t care. She wanted to be carnal, wanted him to ravage her. She moaned, moaned his name as she gripped onto a pillow’s edges.
“Do you want me inside you?” he whispered in her ear, rubbing her into a frenzy.
She closed her eyes. “Yes… yes…”
He held her hands down, and he slowly eased himself into her, the tip of his manhood quivering. James’ mouth hardened, and then he quickly thrust himself into her, plummeting into that velvety softness that only she could give. Her legs locked around his waist, and they slid back and forth in feverish warmth, consumed by their carnal intent.
*
They lay side by side, their hearts slowly returning to a normal pace. She said nothing to him as she breathed in and out slowly, all the while staring at the ceiling.
He was doing the same, and while he was silent, his thoughts were loud. He had thought this through earlier in his office; he knew he couldn’t let her go. Maybe he would tire of her soon enough, but for now, she was his and his alone. No one else was to have her. It wasn’t an obsession yet, he told himself. There was just something about her. Wasn’t that the case with his previous dates?
Women were to be respected with highest regard, but it didn’t say that he had to date them even if he was tired of them. He broke up with them in decent ways: buying them expensive gifts, sending hand-written notes… was that going to be the case with her? He couldn’t dare look at her for now, afraid he was going to become the person he had told himself he would never be.
He finally cleared his throat.
“You want some water?” she asked him.
He cleared his throat again. “I’ll get it myself, if you don’t mind,” he said, standing up from her bed and putting on his boxers. He needed to be away from her, even if it was just a few feet away.
She let him be, wanting to be alone. She needed to collect herself. She had thought she was instantly attracted to Mark Smith already… turns out, she was just playing with herself, wasn’t she? The instant James kissed her, she couldn’t resist. She tried, but failed miserably. And here she had thought that Mark made love at first sight easy. James, apparently, didn’t believe in that kind of crap.
Aliya couldn’t shake off his words, in which he had said he wanted to avoid drama and everything else that came with being in a relationship. Had he forgotten that there were upsides to being in a relationship too? No, he’s right, she told herself, and relationships are too much drama if you’re with the wrong person.
When she kissed him, and when they made love, it felt like he was the right person—no, the perfect person for her. When he started demanding, when he started demeaning her, everything fell apart. The silence at the moment was awkward, but she was glad of it for now. It meant he had nothing to say; it meant lesser chances of ruining what perfect lovemaking they had just had. Was she even right to call it lovemaking? It was just sex, and just plain sex made everything feel cheap. She forced herself to dress up, quickly choosing pajamas from her cabinet.
As soon as she got out, she saw him laugh.
“Really, a My Little Pony pajama set?”
She looked down, not realizing it had been embarrassing from the start. It was a gift from her brothers, a joke of sorts for her birthday, but these were the comfiest pajamas she had ever owned since she started college.
“They’re really soft,” she said, defensive.
“I bet,” he said, continuing to laugh. “I guess I was right about you. You are childish in some ways.”
“Child-like is more like it,” she said, grabbing a glass of water herself. She looked at him, all bare, except for his boxer shorts, and she couldn’t help but applaud herself inwardly for sleeping with a man with such a physique. The hundreds of questions still ran through her mind, and she couldn’t stop herself anymore.
“What are we?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve slept twice with each other. You don’t want me seeing other guys. What are we?”
He fell silent, placing the mug on the kitchen sink. Yes, what were they? He didn’t want to share her. You don’t share people, just like you don’t share husbands, wives, or employees you’ve trained too well. “We’re two adults, enjoying life,” he began carefully.
“Still, you can’t give me a straight-laced answer, no matter how much of a dick you are.”
“Didn’t you like it?”
“Yes, I did, but—”
“There,” he shrugged, leaning against her small counter. He looked around, realizing she was living in a small apartment, too small for his tastes. The vending machines and refrigerators in one pantry at the office were bigger than her place alone.
“What?” she said. “You want to complain about my place now?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. You worked hard to have this.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Some things are better left unsaid,” he told her. “Would you like to meet for lunch tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “Can’t. I have exams coming up.”
“The day after?”
Still, she shook her head. “Can’t do it the whole week.” I’m not sorry. He was deliberately messing with her mind again; after pleasure came the pain—or the frustration.
“I’m not eloquent when it comes to things like this,” James began.
“Finally.”
His eyes narrowed, and she quickly stopped, careful not to roll her eyes as well. “This is something I’m not sure how to manage.”
“Like I’m part of work?”
“This is still work.”
“Yeah, you’re a work in progress,” Aliya told him. “Look, I don’t want you messing me up again. You come here, force yourself into my life just because you’re bored or on an ego trip.”
“I’m not,” he snapped. “I came here because I wanted to check in on you.”
“Because you didn’t get any response from me? Two lunches doesn’t mean you own me or my time. You don’t tell me who to date or who not to see.”
“You’re mine,” he spat out, unable to control his words. “You’re mine, and while you are, you’re going to abide by my rules, my words, my—”
“You aren’t the boss of me,” she said, her face heated. “For starters, I only had lunch with you because I was curious. You told me you wanted a good conversation, not a relationship. I didn’t even know sleeping with you was—”
“Part of the package?” he interrupted her. “I don’t treat women like they’re prostitutes.”
“Yeah? It seems like you do. You think I’m disposable? Well, listen here, you egoistic idiot.”
No one had ever called him that before. She had the gall to do so. His temper rose, a temper he had always controlled around everyone. “You smiled that day. It was a nice smile,” he finally said.
She stopped, incompetent for a moment that his words had come out kind. “What?”
“You heard what I said,” he said, cocking his head sideways. “You were the only one I saw that day who had a happy smile.”
It was a compliment, a compliment borne not out of flattery, but of a strange sincerity she thought she could never get from him. She regained her thoughts. “It doesn’t mean you can boss me around, just because you are one.”
“I’ll control myself,” he told her. “It’s a deal I can make with you.”
He still didn’t answer her. He could give the wrong answer, make her feel unwanted, alienate her. He wanted to attract her to him, keep himself a bit mysterious, just for her interest alone. He was losing it, wasn’t he? Over someone he had known less than a month?
“We’re having lunch next week, yeah?” he told her, his magnetism winning her over again.
Aliya found herself nodding, nearly forgetting that the café was closing down. She would figure out where to get a job this week, lest she lose the apartment she had worked hard for, and be on a water diet for the next few weeks. He walked up closer to her, and he looked into her eyes, making her feel naked and vulnerable to whatever affection he was willing to give.
She said yes.