Nine
I must’ve showered and scrubbed every crevice on my body.
Savior is supposed to come over at any time and I’m not sure what his protocol is. Would he want to talk first? Watch a little TV? Or will he get straight to business with no foreplay?
Will this last all night or will I wonder if I could’ve had a V8 like Robin in Waiting to Exhale? A sista has questions.
“Looking for Mr. Do Right” is softly playing and a few candles are lit. Even though I know it’s just sex and nothing but, I felt the need to make it as romantic as possible. It’s for my sanity and not his.
I decide to wear just boy shorts and a tank top. I figured if I’m going to be butt-ass naked, there was no point of removing a lot of clothing. It was easier for everyone involved that I’m close to naked as possible.
I keep telling myself it’s just sex and that’s all there’s to it. He gets off and I get to go to college free. I’ll have a shiny BMW to boot and I won’t have to worry about Savior for the rest of my time at the local community college until I transfer.
I need to look at this the way it supposed to be – it’s business between us and that’s it. All of Savior’s compliments are just nice things he’s saying so I can remember them when he spreads my thighs open.
He’s clinical, mechanical, and very unromantic about this whole ordeal. Who knows how many women he’s approached this with and how many women out there right now are going to college on Savior Ellison’s dime. I’m probably one of out several. Why am I doing this?
I want to drink to calm my nerves but the way I’m feeling, I would down the entire wine bottle. Savior would want me sober and be as coherent as possible. I don’t want anything to cloud my judgment tonight.
The doorbell rings and my heart leaps out of my chest. He’s here. My throat swallows the bile that threatens to come out and my body shivers with nervousness and anticipation. I’m half-excited, half-scared, but interestingly enough, I’m not even aroused.
I walk to the front door and peep through the hole. Savior is standing behind it and immediately, my nervousness goes away. I open the door and smell his wonderful, masculine scent before we meet eyes.
He’s still dressed in the attire from earlier and he brought a small gift for me, a dozen roses. “For you,” he smiles.
I grab the long-stemmed roses and sniff them. For someone who claimed he didn’t want to do romance, he could’ve fooled me. “Thank you. Come in.”
Savior walks to my bedroom and I put the flowers in a vase with water. I meet Savior in the bedroom and close the door behind me. He’s staring at an old photo of me and my father when I was two. I honestly don’t remember that photo but it’s one of my favorites. It tells me my Daddy always had my back.
Savior turns his attention to another photo of me, from my high school days when I was at a house party. I had a red cup in my hand and laughing at the camera with the rest of my girls. My hair was shoulder-length and I had the typical style every black girl in L.A. wore in the early 2000’s. High school wasn’t even that long ago but I still have great memories.
“Why did you cut off your hair?”
Only the crackle of the candles and Keith Sweat’s voice fills the room. The question surprises me and I didn’t think it was something he would care about. “Something different,” I reply. “My hair grows pretty quickly so I can always grow it out.”
Savior puts down the photo and slowly shakes his head. “No, I like it like that. I get to see more of your beautiful face.”
I’m glad the candles are lit so he couldn’t see the embarrassment my face had. If he’s trying to get into my panties with all of these compliments, I’m not stopping him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He looks around at other photos. Despite him being here before, it’s clear the first visit was proving a point to me. This visit, however, is more personable. Professional and clinical Savior is gone. Authentic and down-to-earth Savior has appeared.
He sits down on the bed and takes in more of the bedroom. It’s rather simple – a four-poster bed, a dresser with mirror, and a standard closet. I have a desk over at the corner that holds all of my clutter and I keep a vibrator tucked away in my naughty drawer.
Savior’s eyes are quizzical and studious. It seems he’s trying to figure me out without actually asking questions. I’m not sure if I like that or I want him out before he can get me off.
“Come here, Keisha.”
I walk over to Savior and he pulls me on top of his lap before I had a chance to sit beside him. He wraps his arms around me and his body feels amazing. My heart is no longer pounding out of my chest and I feel strange warmth between us, like if this was a regular thing.
He looks up at me and we lock eyes. His brown eyes softened and I see flickers of joy within them. “Whenever you feel uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll stop. Your happiness is my top priority.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Are there things you don’t want to do?” He asks.
“No anal,” I reply, “that’s a hard limit for me.”
Savior nods. “Okay. Anything else?”
