Caramel Flava

After the cut, she faces me.

“Damn, baby. You’re too dangerous for me,” she says, and leaves me stranded on the island of grooves.

Oh well. I guess freedom isn’t for everyone.

The deejay feels my disappointment;he’s got on soca now.

Continuing my naughty wind, I saunter back to my table, where B.K. approaches me as if he’s on fire.

“You have an admirer, Coop.”

Pointing left, I see her, and my eyes widen.

It’s the lady in red, staring deeply at me while hypnotically moving in place.

Swerving seductively with an authentic sexiness, her body is a vision of polished perfection. I could see her legs pulse, enhancing the musculature of her chiseled calves. Her well-placed curves excite me with their generosity, but not as much as the rose tattoo above those perky breasts. Look at it sitting there, begging for me to pick its petals. Mm, I love her hazel eyes. Passionately penetrating my senses as they smolder with sexuality, they are stalking me with a look of want.

A man extends his hand, inviting her to the floor.

She politely says, “No, thank you,” while never once looking at him.

She’s already dancing with someone in her mind.

Me.

“Man, you better go get with that,” B.K. says.

I peer back at my crew sitting at the table, and see twenty-plus different shades of skin, the looks on their faces screaming in unison, “Well, what are you waiting for, stupid?”

Well, what are you waiting for, stupid?

Why am I standing here, four songs later? Hasn’t the messenger from Oz returned with my nerve? And why is the essence of my fantasy still waiting, and smiling? For the past twenty minutes, men have begged to invade her majestic presence on the dance floor, and all have been turned away. That she does so while looking in my direction makes me sweat.

Does she know something that I don’t?

Maybe she does. Maybe, just maybe, she came here to share her exotic femininity with me. Maybe she’s chosen me to drink of the warm juices that lie in abundance between those smooth thighs, and quench her insatiable lust. Maybe it’s me that’ll have access to what everyone craves.

Wait, what’s Hector whispering in her ear? He’s always starting something. Why is he pointing in my direction, and why is she laughing?

And why are they headed this way?

My heart, threatening to come through my chest, is beating fast as she nears. Damn, her shoulders are round and ripe, and I love the muscular definition in her arms. I can tell she works out. Mm, those lips are so sexy. Smiling with anticipation, she’s licking her bottom one as if famished. That heated gaze is making my dick stiff.

There’s no time to sweat.

Be cool, Will, like the other side of a pillow.

“Estoy enamorada de la azúcar negra,” she announces sexily while extending her hand.

She’s in love with brown sugar, I see. Nervous, two seconds seem like two hours before I respond.

“Gracias, señorita.” Feeling the soft texture of her touch, I kiss her hand.

I’m entangled in the web of a spider, a red widow.

“I’m Alicia. Alicia Morena,” she says.

“My name is William.”