Nights Over Egypt (An Eye of the Storm Short) (3 page)

             
She hands me my drink. “Here you go, Egypt.”

             
“Thanks,” I whisper under a nervous tremble of my voice.

             
“Egypt, it is, eh?” King remarks.

             
Silence.

             
Renee laughs out loud. “Silly woman, King is talking to you.”

             
“Oh,” I chuckle, turn towards him. Damn, his eyes. I’m going to wet my panties in five, four, three, two, one…

             
“Yes, it's Egypt. Nice to meet you, King.”

             
“Oh, you know the name, eh?” He smiles. Waves his hand to Renee.

             
“Renee, I’ll have what Egypt is having.”

             
“Coming right up, boss.”

             
“Thanks, sweetie.”

             
My eyes gravitate to his chiseled, manly face.  He is a beautiful, black man. Beautiful.

             
“I do know your name.” I smile.

             
“I’m honored.” He moves in closer to me. The perfectly trimmed goatee looked delicious from afar, but up close and personal, it looks like heaven..

             
“Why is that?”

             
“This world is so cold and ugly, that its refreshing to have someone as lovely as you remember something so important about me.” He smiles.

             
Just breathe.

             
An unstable chuckle leaves me.

             
“You are beautiful, Egypt.”

             
“Thank you, King.”

             
He moves in closer. The space, the heat that rests between us is palpable, ignitable.

             
King takes strands of my hair from my face with his left hand and gently brushes them back.

             
My nipples harden.

             
“Loved your piece, Egypt.”

             
“Thank you, King. I loved yours also. Skillful how you incorporated biblical elements. I take my hat off to you, sir.”

             
“Just your hat?” He smiles. Takes a sip of his drink.

             
“For now,” I reply.

             
“Well, praise the Lord, there’s hope for me, yet.”

             
“Keep praising.”

             
“Ha, ha, ha. You’re adorable, Egypt.”

             
“As are you, King.”

             
I glance at my watch and figure I’d end this on a high note. Because if I stay any longer, and any more of this liquid aphrodisiac enters my bloodstream, I will, without a doubt, be sitting on King’s face tonight.

             
“Well, nice meeting you, King. I’m out of here. “

             
“You know my days and nights are going to be a living hell until the next time I see your glorious face.” He smiles, takes another sip. My eyes peer to his feet, and travel up his legs, to his abdomen, chest, his strong neck, broad shoulders, and land on his sweet, delectable lips. Wow, what  I’d give up to kiss them, just one time.

             
Boldly, I take King’s hand in mine, pull the pen from the bar, and write my telephone number into his palm.

             
“Call me, anytime.”             

             
“It’s like that?”

             
“It’s like that, King…Later.”

             
I know he’s watching me as I exit…have mercy.

To Have Dominion

Her…

             
I made it home, via Cloud 9, as I soared through the inner workings of a ghetto, on a wing and a prayer with thoughts of King who consumed my mind. Don’t even remember what route I took to get here, but thankful that I made it home safely.

             
An overwhelming sexiness covers me as I make my way to the shower. Peeling off layers of clothing, they drop to the floor, along with any cares I’ve carried with me for the day. Nothing even matters right now, but the warmth of black vanilla bubbles as they cascade down my back.

             
I can’t believe we spoke this evening. What a pleasure to behold all that is good and worthy and precious about him up close, live and direct, in physical form. He’s more delightful than I ever imagined he could be. That tiny chuckle he let escape him lets me know that there’s greater laughs to be had with my man. I sense he has a very silly streak in him. Can’t wait to learn more.

             
My loofa gently glides over parts of my body that need to be cleansed. If only they had a loofa for the mind, I would be able to scrub away these naughty thoughts and inappropriate fantasies that consume me. I watch as the scented, soft soap runs down my chest, and in between my breasts. Taking the loofa, I softly brush my nipples as I watch them grow right before my eyes.

             
I remember him…King. I remember his smile. The way he touched my hair. I remember his laugh. I think of him. I long for him. I want him. I need him. Oooh, I taste him. I touch him. I kiss him.  Oh God, I devour him. Get on all fours for him. King. I catch his thrust, give it right back to him. Give him my tongue. Taste his lips. I’m squirting love all over him. Enjoying his tongue tricks. Damn, he’s pulling my trigger.

             
The phone rings. Nothing disturbs this groove.

             
My hands travel down my abdomen. Finger tips run across my navel, down to the center of my longing. My face receives the hot beads of water. I think of him. My King. My baby.  My mind is half crazy. Dreams won’t leave him alone. I remember him. He said it. Spoke to me. Kissed my soul. Made love to my mind. Ravaged me with his words. Let the world into his desire. Made me a spectacle, just for me. He mouthed the words . Oh God. “With all praise due to the most high, My savior, can you feel the roar of my stare? As I become familiar with those naughty parts of you that seductively hide under the clothes you’re forced to wear.”

             
It’s raining over here, on the inside of my womb. I need him. King. Come. Cool down the fire of my wanting. Hands travel down to a place that’s been waiting an eternity for King to touch. I’m his woman. His for the taking. Sweet, syrupy juices cover my fingers as I make myself familiar with King’s clit. I’m running my tongue across my lips, wetting them, while wishing he was here. Shit, he’s making my pussy sing a new song.

             
I see him. King. Outlining my nipples with his tongue. He’s in me now. My sugary, hot volcano welcomes him. Anxiously, they make a place for him to stay. He has a new home. His tempered thrusts are enough to cause an eruption between my thighs. I yell for him. Reach for him. He’s not here, but he is here, pleasing me. “King,” I call him as I release. His loving runs down my thighs. Throbbing. Set ablaze. Skin too hot to touch. On fire. King. I remember you. The air in the room is blanketed with the aroma of sex. A collision of lust and hunger makes me explode.

             
Lightning and thunder. I’m on my way. In the worst kind of way. Lightning strikes. My storm is raging. Won’t let go. I never seen it, but I found this love, I wanna feel it. I feel him. I happily give him sweet cherries from my lips, grapes off of my vine, pearls from my mind, diamonds from  my womb and rolling thunder from my hips. King.

Damn…

              Stretched out across my bed, I exhale as I relive it all. My encounter with my favorite nightmare. Lincoln Jazz Center Orchestra’s “Jelly, Jelly,” plays softly in the background. I flip over to my belly, grab my phone. The red light is blinking. Voicemail. I retrieve it.

             
“You have one new message. To listen to the message, press one.”

             
I press the number one on my phone, place the phone on speaker. Lay the phone down next to me on the bed.

             
“Sweet, beautiful woman. You didn’t give me enough time with you this evening. And, I didn’t give you my number. I guess that’s why I’m going into voicemail now. Anywho, just wanted to hear your lovely voice. Wanted to grab a little bit of your energy. Hit me back, when you can, at 862-555-1612. Have a restful night, baby.”

             
Have mercy. King. Called. Me. My heart flutters as I try to gather my thoughts. It’s one o’clock in the morning. Should I return his call? It’s too late isn’t it? Don’t want to be rude.

             
A clicking sound comes from my phone and I check the screen to see what action lies ahead. I have a new text message. Clicking on the envelope, I can’t help but wonder who it is.

             
Message from 862-555-1612 at 1:14 a.m: “Sorry I missed you. It’s King. Would love to hear your voice.”

             
He’s bold. Beautiful. He’s bold and beautiful and lovely and black and regal and damn…I’m returning this text. I save his number and label it “King.”

             
Me:              I’m sorry you missed me, too
.


             
King:              Is that right?

             
Me:              Yes, Sir.

             
King:               I like your formality.

             
Me:               Do you?

             
King:               I like you
.


             
Me:               Music to my ears.

             
King:               Why is that?

             
Me:              Because I kinda sortalike you too
.


             
King:              Confusion, Queen?

             
Me:              No, just kidding. It is 1 a.m
.


             
King:              Aww, does the baby need to go to sleep?

             
Me:              Ha, ha. No, I’m good.

             
King:              You are.

             
Me:              I am, what?

             
King:              Good.

             
Me:              How would you know?

             
King:              Because I’ve felt your presence. Your spirit overflows with all that is good.

             
Me:              I like the way that sounds.

             
King:              Me too. LOL

             
Me:              You’re funny.

             
King:              Thank you, baby.

             
Me:              You’re welcome.

             
King:              Would love to see you again.

             
Me:              I would like that. I’ll be at Night’s on Friday.

             
King:               Too long to wait. Come to Night’s tomorrow. They’re having live jazz. 7pm.

             
Me:              Hmmm.

             
King:              Hmmm, what?

             
Me:              You’re dangerous.

             
King:              I’m not going to kill you
.


             
Me:              LOL.

             
King:              No need to be afraid. Jazz. Good convo. Dinner. That’s it.

             
Me:              See you tomorrow, King.

             
King:              That’s it? No kiss? No, hugs? Nothing?

             
Me:              Muah. Is that better?

             
King.               Much. I’ll hold onto this until tomorrow. You’ll give me the real one, tomorrow right?

             
Me:              Time will tell. Have a good night, King.

             
King:              You too, gorgeous
.
