Lydia just stared at him, not quite knowing what to make of this man who had seen her well out of her box.
“Look, Lydia, for the record, I’m not here to hit it and quit it. I want to g
et to know you, the real you. Today was a lucky break. Maybe we shouldn’t have gone there so soon, but you were looking so hot today I couldn’t help myself. But let’s see where this goes with us.”
The camera clicked once more as they lay there, the moon shining in on their bodies.
“Now that’s going to make a good picture,” Juan said.
“No, picture perfect,” she responded before kissing him one more time.
The Rain
E. Charles Smith
The drip-drop sprinkles are soothing. Right now, Marcus Jackson needs all the comfort that he can get. He can feel his right hand trembling slightly as he shifts into third gear, switching to the fast lane on I-75 headed north. He’s gotta get there, gotta get there quickly before his mind changes. A tingle works its way up his lower back, toward the top of his spinal column as he reminisces on what she had just said sixty minutes ago.
“Will you come, please? I need to see you,” she had said.
Those sweet words would forever caress his heart, yet haunt his soul for the rest of his natural life. He could never forget the immediate feeling of triumph and pleasure at hearing her soft voice yearn for his company.
“Will you come, please? I need to see you,” she had said.
The sporadic raindrops across the windshield begin to pick up pace—sprinkles turning into light rain, calming rain, mellowing rain. Marcus’s heart begins to quicken as he passes by Exit 50, Grand River, continuing northbound toward her. His brow moistens; his temples dampen. The palm of his left hand releases the steering wheel momentarily, leaving behind a wet streak. Yet he smiles, devilishly at the reflection staring back in the rearview mirror. He chuckles to himself and then speaks aloud, as if there was a passenger next to him.
“My god, what am I doing! This is insane. There’s gotta be at least twenty different reasons why I should just turn around, now, and go home.”
He waits for some spiritual response while the road ahead begins to shine with the new-fallen rain. He waits for something, anything, that would persuade him that the single greatest mistake in the history of huge mistakes is about to be committed. He waits, and as he waits, he remembers how soft and sensual her voice sounded over the phone.
“Will you come, please? I need to see you,” she had said.
That phrase spoken by anyone else could have meant anything other than what it meant as the words slipped from her lips. He knew what time it was. He knew what she was asking. The time for kids’ games and playful flirting had just taken the leap over that dreaded line of no return. Those spoken words had signified that. She was ready to have him. And he wanted her just as badly. The cold, hard admission of truth simultaneously sends a heat wave through his chest, down into his crotch, and a cold chill up his back and around his shoulder blades. He flinches.
“Holy shit. I’m really gonna do this! This can’t be real. I’m actually gonna go through with this.”
Light rain becomes steady rain. Marcus thumbs the knob for the wipers, and watches as the blades rotate back and forth. Mack Avenue exit ahead. Twenty minutes to go, still enough time to change his mind. As if by magic, his mind’s eye focuses on the casual dress she’d worn today. The low-cut yet tactful trim of the box neck accenting the beautiful, natural curve of her neck, underneath the long dark locks of her silky hair. Her skin was smooth and the perfect shade of golden butter pecan. There were days when he’d imagined creeping up on her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, and gently kissing the nape of her neck. He could see the perfect curve of her bosom as the dress sashayed from left to right as she walked by him in the aisleway of the copy room. Marcus could feel his member pressing harder against his cotton boxers as he focused on the perfect shape of her behind, the way the dress simply slipped off the peak.
Her smile was intoxicating. He loved the look of her full lips but it was her eyes that captivated him. One stern look into her deep brown stare always seemed to make the backs of his knees lose strength. It wasn’t just one feature of this woman that entrapped him, it was the entire package. Marcus was in the moment now. The point of no return had been crossed over. There would be no turning back. He was going to do what he’d never dreamt possible before this day.
“Will you come, please? I need to see you,” she had said.
Behind the wheel of the speeding Mustang, Marcus replies, “I’m comin’, babe. I’m comin’. I am on the way.”
The rainfall picks up speed as Marcus passes by the I-94 interchange. The soothing sensation slowly takes on a raging storm effect. Visibility quickly decreases, and he downshifts for safety. That’s when Mia pops up inside of his head. Goddamn if that wasn’t the mind’s conscience at work, as if the onslaught of rain had somehow forced him to suddenly remember the oath he’d given to his fiancée. He thought about what he’d told her right after Veronica’s call.
“Emergency meeting over in Ann Arbor, baby. Some new development after the associates’ meeting. I’ll call as soon as I get back into town.”
The words had dropped from his lips as if he was a seasoned liar. Why not, he’s paid well to sell people. It’s his job, and he’s good at it. The majority of his clients have already made up their minds by the time Marcus is brought into dealings. His quick wit had closed many deals, changed hundreds of minds, and sold people on what they wanted to hear. Why should his fiancée be any different? She’d told him that she loved him. Ouch. Damn, that thought comes out of the dark like a blind fist, smacking him so hard upside the head that he actually lifts his foot off the gas pedal.
“This is wrong. She’s gorgeous, but is she worth it?”
That’s when the phone vibrates on his left hip. Startling the hell out of him, he swerves slightly. Regaining control of the ’stang, he reaches for the Bluetooth earpiece protruding from his left ear, and taps the call button. An audible, soft beep sounds off and then…
“Hello?”
There is a silence on the other end that seems to last a dog’s age. He knows who it is. Still he plays it cool—despite the sweat forming under his arms. The rain is full throttle outside the car now, and lightning has joined nature’s dance.
“Hello, is anybody—”