Love Delayed (10 page)

“I was simply pointing out your vanity. You know they associate excessive
amounts of selfies with narcissism, right?”

Stenton picked up his drink as he chuckled. “Well, in my case it’s called business; more specifically, marketing. My publicists
pushed for more candid shots on social networks to give the illusion of intimacy. It makes fans feel closer to me...like they actually know me. But if you, my perceptive Elizabeth, look closer—at each picture, you’ll notice they don’t give away shit about me personally. I’m just a sideshow act. I’m not expressing myself; I give the people what they want to see.”

Hmmmmm
…

Expressing narcissism to give the
illusion of intimacy?
Is that what celebrities do? Is it necessary to protect who they really are?
This was a hard theory to swallow considering all of the selfies and candid shots I’d seen of him. He seemed to be in his home, the gym and public places, but he was right; they never gave a clue as to who this man was other than his alleged vanity, something that I don’t pick up at all when with him. Who is the real Stenton Rogers? Was he the guy in all the pictures, smiling and appearing well socialized? Or was he the man who secretly invited me to a diner close to midnight in Kingston, a place I’d never heard of until then?

As w
e were seated in a small booth in the back of an empty section, I’d noticed he’d been quieter than usual tonight. I assumed he was preoccupied with something. I didn’t ask, though tempted to. I wondered if he felt the twinge of guilt that I had, knowing how Angela would feel about us being there together without her knowledge. No. That wouldn’t make any sense, considering he couldn’t give two craps about Angela. He’d only brought her up to express his confusion about our friendship now that he knows we’re actually family.

All of that aside, I needed to get honest about why I was here. I liked Stenton…in a friendship manner. He was funny, engaging and really smart, very much a hidden treasure. And if I was
really
honest, I’d admit to feeling a surge of excitement at the possibility of being one of the few who
knew
this side of him. What he saw in me, though, I had no idea. Maybe he felt sorry for me because of how I reacted to learning he dismissed my cousin’s advances via a lie about his relationship status. I still couldn’t believe that. He’d lied. To her. But with me…he seemed very transparent, no matter how annoying he was.    

“I’d like to see more of you, though.”

I looked up from the table and saw
that
look in his eyes again. Stenton guarded his smile around me most days. I finally realized he didn’t trust me. And I got why, eventually. The more we talked, the more I could identify his problem with people always having an agenda and their hands out. I didn’t attempt to prove myself otherwise. My mother always taught me not to fight at getting people to know the real me. She would always say, with time they would know me better than any words could assist with. And that’s what I did with Stenton.

Could that be what the glint in his eyes as he sat across from me was all about?

“Huhn?”

He inclined in his seat, bringing my attention to those full heart-shaped lips that had recently beg
un haunting my private thoughts.

“I think you should take selfies. Converse to my
practices, you can show people who you really are. Remind them of your natural beauty and introduce them to your incredible sense of humor,” he murmured with squinted eyes.

“Sense of humor? I have a sense of humor?” I couldn’t believe his observation. I’
d been told about several of my alleged characteristics, but a good sense of humor—or one at all—wasn’t one.

“Yeah, like when you clown my wardrobe all the time. What was it that you called me? A—”

“A ghetto rocker?”

“Yup.” His lips twitched into an easy grin. “That’s one. A bootleg hood model is another.”

He let out a full laugh with that one. I joined him.

“Well, your style is a bit different. That’s evident in all of your selfies.” I busted out laughing at the recollection of some of them. “But then your poses can be so suave. You be like this.”

I squared my shoulders, straightened my neck and angled my head a few ways to mimic Stenton’s various poses. He tossed his head back and hooted hard. One of his security guys turned to see what was causing the ruckus. When they saw me sit on my knees and snatch Stenton’s baseball cap from his head and attempt my Stenton Rogers impersonating, even they cracked smiles. 

Unable to breath
e, Stenton yelped, “Give me my damn hat back. You can’t rock my shit and clown me at the same time. Fashion is subjective, man.”

He came over to my side of the booth and tried to grab his hat from my head. I argued, “No, what’s subjective is how
appropriate those tuxedo shorts were you wore to that party last month.”

I laughed with him while continuing with my antics. When he was successful in getting the cap off my head, he then grabbed my phone and handed it to me.

“Here. I’m about to coach you on how to take silly pictures.”

I took my phone and went into the picture app. “I’m ready.”

Stenton instantly widened his eyes and stuck out his long and wide tongue. I mean…his tongue darn near reached to the bottom of his chin. I’d idly wondered could it extend longer. And then my curiosity caused me to wonder what it would feel like against my—

I clicked the camera then slammed
the phone on the table.

“Got it. Enough of that. Hope you’re happy,” my voice
was uncharacteristically low before I forced the straw from my drink into my suddenly dry mouth.

The trail my thoughts were leading down
was not holy.

Stenton knowingly shook his head as he turned away from me.

“C’mon. It’s late.” He stood from the booth and offered his hand. “I’ve taken up enough of your time,” he muttered.

I wiggled my phone as I scooted off the bench to stand. “And memory.”

Brain memory, that is
.     

When his security saw us coming their way, the
y stood and walked ahead of us. I followed behind Stenton, who adjusted his hat on his head, and studied his body. His walk wasn’t as ponderous as other tall men. He had a bit of elegance about his stance and stride.

“Where are you parked?” Stenton called back to me.

“Ummm…all the way in the back, by the gate.”

When we
arrived to the back of the parking lot, I took the lead to my car. My mind churned with what this farewell experience would be like. I mean, what would I say to him? I thought this would go down a different way, like a quick
nice meeting
you
in the early afternoon hours at the country club. I spent most of my summer with this guy: the guy everyone knew as Stenton Rogers. And now we were preparing to say goodbye. As much as I resented having to spend time with the insufferable man, my heart had evolved in terms of him. It had softened to him. At this point, I really liked him as a friend. But I didn’t think I’d ever see him again outside of a television screen or print ad, so how would I express
it was nice meeting you
? My mind wouldn’t slow.

I was so flustered that when we arrived at my car, I turned to him and
buried my face in my palms. “I know…I know…I know I’m supposed to be polite and come up with parting words…use proper etiquette.” My voice turned apologetic, pleading even. “But I really can’t think of anything, except for it’s been really cool getting to know you without the assistance of Google. It’s sped my summer up, and made what Angela did that much more bearable because at least I had someone to suffer with me. Uhhh…”

My eyes swep
t the ground below as I tried to think of something more.

Oh!

“It was cool meeting a fellow-rocker. Now, I’m really going to look for that
KISS
t-shirt signed by Gene Simmons. Uhhh… It’s great to have that genre of music in common with someone who shares the same skin tone…or ethnicity…well, not so much of the latter because you’re mixed. And…uhhh…don’t worry about me stalking you. Here…” I pulled out my cell phone.

“
Zoey.”

“I’ll delete your number. I swear I don’t have it memorized or written anywhere. You can go on ahead and delete me from Facebook and other sites now that we won’t be seeing each other. I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to get to know—
”  

“
Zoey,” he called out again, pointedly. “Shut up.” I didn’t see a smile or hear humor in his tenor.

“
W
-why are you telling me to shut up?”

“Because I didn’t
ask you out here tonight to say goodbye, per se—or at least I hope we’re not saying goodbye.” He changed his stance, lowering himself to align his gaze with mine. “I wanted to see you tonight because you challenged me with proving that my teeth are real.”

I stood there with my mouth
facing the ground, trying to process what he’d said. For a moment, I was lost, unable to comprehend his intent. Just then, Stenton took me at the back of my head, aggressively pulling me into his hot hard frame and positioned his lips to align with mine. Immediately, my body melted into him.

His long fingers raked through my hair at the roots
, gripping my scalp as he held me. On my tippy toes, and with my elongated neck, I stood enraptured as his lengthy and wide tongue swirled in my mouth, tasting every inch of my cavity, even the front of my teeth, between my gums. My belly stirred with carnal desire and my entire frame vibrated with sensual energy. I didn’t know how long he explored my mouth, neither could I think straight to measure. But I knew I didn’t want him to stop. I’d never been so thoroughly kissed. Never knew so much could be expressed and experienced through a kiss.

Stenton retracted his tongue then full lips, suddenly leaving me bereft.
My eyes flickered open and caught his darkened orbs.

“That’s how you can assess my teeth,” he informed hoarsely.

Though he attempted humor, his eyes were slanted, heavy with need and his proximity dizzied me. I don’t think I’d ever smelled anything so virile in my life.

When he moved in again
; I threw my hands up to the back of his head, feeling the soft and natural curls of his mane, meeting him half way, and my tongue was in his mouth before he could think about changing his mind. I didn’t go straight for his teeth, I went for his tongue. It was sweet like nectar and agile like the neck of a heron. I wanted more of it. And I took it, liberally.

There was a strong spurring sound that hurled from the back of his throat and even that tossed into my mouth deliciously.

“Yo, Rogers!” I heard in the distance, but didn’t allow it to interrupt my sensual and explorative adventure. “We gotta roll!”

Hearing that reminded me of his
impending departure. It was then that I used my tongue to inspect his teeth, but no longer questioning the realness of them, just not wanting to leave an inch of his mouth undiscovered.

I don’t know who pulled away first. I only understood neither one of
us wanted to. My breathing was ragged, and Stenton’s composure mangled. He thumbed his bottom lip as he looked out into the distance. When his eyes returned to me they were sharp, piercing with preoccupancy. He didn’t say anything when he walked off.

I stood there dazed for moments long, not understanding what had just taken place. It wasn’t until I realized the headlights from his truck were still illuminating the dark corner of the parking lot where I stood
that I grasped they were waiting on me to safely get into my car before pulling off. So I did. I managed to move my aching body over to my
Kia
Rio
and pull off.

On the way home, my phone chirped. When I stopped at the next light I checked the text.

Stenton:
What’s your assessment?

Me:
Of what?

Stenton:
My teeth.

Oh! Those!
That trivial curiosity paled in comparison to the real discovery of how great a kisser Stenton was. I’d never felt anything like that. At the next light I returned his text.

Me:
I guess they’re real. You rich people can afford good cosmetic procedures.

Stenton:
Well I guess we’re even.

Me:
How so?

Stenton:
Because your boobs are perfect in size and feel good as hell against my abs and chest.

Just when I thought my already sodden panties could endure no more liqu
efaction, I felt increased moisture down below. My breasts felt heavier in their holdings, too.
This is insane!
I waited until I arrived home to respond. I didn’t know how to.

Me:
Ummm… Thanks?

Stenton:
LMAO! GN Nina.

~~~~~~~~~~

Days later, I heard a ping from my phone. I reached over to the bathroom sink as Ruth stood over me while I was squatting on the lip of the tub.
It was from Stenton.