Justine sat up. She was so frightened of what her mind had to be producing to say anything, let alone scream.
“Justine.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. God, no! Is this a figment of my lunatic mind talking to me? I’m not that crazy yet, am I?
“Justine. It’s me, Darrius.” He moved from the shadows and approached the bed. His hands hovered above her feet—feet too frightened to kick, too scared to even move. “Don’t be scared, baby. It’s me.” He touched her, feeling the soft sheet covering frozen-in-place feet.
One touch from Darrius and she knew he was no figment. He was there, but how? Why? “Darrius?” She leaned forward, her voice cracking as she called to him once more. “Are you real, or am I a nutcase bound for the nearest ward?”
“You’re no nutcase, my love. I know I look pretty damn odd coming to you in the middle of the night wearing the Koshari getup, but I had to come, baby.”
Now, if I put my hands on this guy and make love to him all night, and he’s not here in the morning—I’ll commit myself to San Francisco General’s nut ward immediately. She touched him. God, yes! He was real. Her mind danced with joy, her body trembled with want. She reached up to him, cradling him in her arms. “Darrius! Oh, my goodness! This is you.”
She rested on her knees in the middle of the bed, keeping him in a tight embrace. Her Darrius was there, in her arms, and she touched him as if he’d break. Her fingers traveled over his features—draping across his nose, brow, jaw line, neck. She could feel the smoothness of the body paint on him. The striking black and white stripes glowed in the moonlight, peering in through her window. The only other light came from her nightlight.
Darrius reached to turn off the lamp, and Justine caught his hand. “No! Don’t you dare turn off the light. I…need to see you, talk to you and convince myself you really are here. If you’re not, Darrius, then I’m really losing it, and the thought scares me.”
He pressed his forefinger against her lips. “I’m here, baby, and you’re not crazy. I just want to see you, touch you, make you completely aware I am in this room with you. Love me, Justine, and let me love you back. Let me show you that I was a jackass. I never should have—”
Instantly, her lips engulfed his. Her wild tongue traveled within him, coiling around his until they both gave out and lay across the bed, never parting for one second. Her hands traveled up and down his taut body, smearing the paint, making it turn into slate-gray streaks across his almost-nude frame. Her man was in her arms, and no feeling in the world could compare.
Her heated kisses drowned him, and she tasted sugarcoated body paint as it mixed with his heat and sweat. He tasted of black licorice and white chocolate, one hundred percent male—one thousand percent Darrius Red Sky.
Justine briefly pulled back from him. “You taste like—”
“Yes, your favorites—black licorice and white chocolate, two powerful flavors created in body paint just for you. One of the dancers tonight helped me put it on after the dances.”
“Then you were at the powwow tonight—”
He tenderly kissed her forehead. “Yes. I left the powwow the same time you did, wearing my paint, but with an overcoat on. I followed you and your friend here and made up my face once I parked in your lot.”
“But how did you get in here? I know my lock is frail and David is fixing it on Monday, but—”
“Simple. It being a frail lock worked for me. I picked it and then gently closed it back behind me. I’ve picked locks before—the one to my Zuni store about a year ago after leaving my keys at home. Jemez showed me how to get into locks since he builds homes and installs that kind of stuff. It was easy.”
She caressed his face. “Remind me to talk to David again about my lock.”
“So I can stay out?”
“No, so I can keep you inside—silly. In this case, I’m glad the lock was easy to pick. I’m in the arms of a man I thought I would never see again. I’m so sorry for what I did, Darrius.”
“Don’t be. It’s your nature to be curious and I should have known that. I’m the one who should be sorry—and I am. I was miserable there without you. I know we haven’t known one another too long, but I need you, Justine. I have never said that about a woman before, never really had the opportunity because no one has struck me the way you have.” He sat next to her, taking her hand. “I want to know everything about you, meet your family, friends, do what you do, like what you like—see what you see.”
“That much, Darrius?”
“That and more. I want to learn more about your culture, be a part of it and of my own. I don’t want this to be just about me, Justine. There’s so much about African and Italian cultures that I haven’t had the opportunity to want to know about until now.”
“But you could have before meeting me.”
“I know, but I never really had a reason until it hit home with me by being with you. There are some things I do know, like about Italian chefs—since I cook as well. I know about the African storytelling that is so much like my own. What you’re made up of is so rich, but besides that, it’s you I want to learn about more than anything. Just you, Justine, and I won’t rest until I have you back in my life again. I—I was so stupid to let you go.”
“I went against your word, Darrius.”
“You haven’t been the first, probably won’t be the last when it comes to that, but that’s not what I care about.” He kissed her cheek. “We can talk later; there is so much to talk about. I loved the newspaper layout, by the way. You really showed us up.”
He lay on his side, facing her. “But for now, I want what I’ve been missing for weeks. Lick the sweetness from me, enjoy your flavors, baby. Make me wild and truly native the way you did in Gallup.”
Justine remembered exactly how native and wild they both had been. That was the truly terrible part about their separation. She had missed his closeness, the physical and emotional contact.
Justine kissed his lips once more before trailing down his chin, neck and collarbone. He was a magnificent flavor, all sex, man and candy—three heavenly delights in one. The most incredible part of it all was that he was there!
* * *
Darrius lay on his back against the cool sheets, awaiting his lover. Once her thighs were on either side of his, he noticed her shirt and traced the buffalo paintings on it. “I saw you when you bought this, and it made me so happy to see how much you love items from my culture.”
“It’s a beautiful shirt, Darrius. Now, take it off and let me show you just how much we belong together.”
He uncovered her naked beauty and tenderly squeezed her breasts. His fingertips played at the hardened nipples, stroking them, rubbing them against the pad of his thumb. “God, I’ve missed you, Justine. I’ve missed how you talk, smell, feel. I’ve missed how you make my body do any and all things you want it to. Each day I wasn’t inside you was like living in hell.”
“Then surrender to heaven and let me tell you how much I’ve missed you, too.”
His hands slowly traveled down her body, relishing just how much she felt like satin—she was a pure satin doll, his toy, and he wanted to play, all night, all the next morning and for the rest of their lives.
He toyed at her navel, watching her stomach muscles respond to his feathery touch. Her sensual giggle was music to his ears; he had missed it desperately. As he touched the soft brush of her sexual hair, he simply couldn’t believe the time he had wasted being a stubborn jackass, being mad at her for something that was in her nature. Her inquisitive side was what he wanted to bring out again that night, because he had the urgent need to be explored, giving her the gifts of his body and love.
His fingers rubbed against her sexual folds. He felt her body tighten to him, yet he probed more, needing to enter her and experience her nectar and let it cover him completely. His desire to taste her was overwhelming, so he slid further down on the bed and looked straight into a core so soaking and ready for him.
With his hands placed firmly against her buttocks for support, he positioned her sex directly above his lips, licking the tender core in swirls, flicking his tongue around her. The feel of her pressing against him almost made him lose it, but he knew he had to hang on to give her the ultimate satisfaction. At that, his tongue licked harder in deep, rugged strokes from front to back. She felt so exquisite against him, and he could feel her hips gently moving back and forth, pressing down on him. He knew she needed deep satisfaction, the kind she could feel within her soul, and he gave it to her.
