Although he is involved with both women, his character doesn’t seem to have time for either due to his love for music.
As I lay with Rhetoric on the mattress, I wondered if his hands would spider over to my hips and raise my shirt.
“So is this what you and your man do?”
“No, I wish. Craig likes to watch ESPN.”
“And you?”
“I like this.”
“And what is this?”
“Watching a movie.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” He glanced at me, his warm hand on my stomach. I felt a surge of energy rush from his hand directly to my inner thighs. I shifted from the moisture. The bed vibrated and I looked down at my glowing phone.
“Craig?”
“Yeah.”
“You gonna answer it?”
“No. I’m with you tonight.” I turned the phone off and placed it on the floor.
“So what’s up? Why am I here?”
“I wanted to see you, I haven’t been able to hang out since I started dating Craig.”
“And now he has given you the go ahead?”
“No, now I do what I want. I broke up with him the other day.”
“So whatever you want, huh?” Rhetoric hovered over me, his lips seconds from mine. I shook with anticipation, wondering what he tasted like, wanting to do what I dreamt since the moment I saw him. He taunted me getting closer but not kissing me.
“You ready to go there?” He asked his lips grazing mine.
“Are you?” We held each other’s gaze as I lifted up kissing him and he took over enveloping me in his clove and sandalwood scent. We kissed through the movie while the Branford Marsalis Quartet serenaded us, we kissed through the credits, and we kissed while the screen turned from black to white to blue.
When I woke up in the morning he was gone, but he was everywhere. His sandalwood scent lingered on my pillow, a faint clove smell was embedded in my skin, and my lips tasted of his. I wondered where he had gone but I didn’t call. I put my feet on the cool tile and sat upright, reliving the shadows of his hands on my body.
I never felt that type of passion with Craig. We never just kissed. With Craig, kissing was just a formality to getting in my pants. I hadn’t had sex with Rhetoric, but felt as though I had. My body was warm in its afterglow, throbbing and moist with anticipation.
I took out my notebook and wrote Rhetoric a poem. Mouths touch as though a magnet lay between our lips.
I set my poem on the bed and took a long shower. When I turned on my phone I saw 12 missed calls from Craig and 1 text from Rhetoric.
We good?
Yes. I answered.
You busy?
No. Come by, I have something to share with you.
Don’t miss Section 3, Part 2 of “A Rhetorical Question” tomorrow!