Russian Kiss, Page 2

  “Nice place,” he compliments, looking around.

  “This apartment is the size of your master bedroom.”

  “Yeah, but you done well with the space you have.”

  “I’ll take your bag,” he hands it to me and I put in the bedroom. “You pack light for a week.”

  “I shipped my garment bag, it should arrive tomorrow. I had a bag stolen after I checked it in, since then, I avoid checking in any bags.”

  “Going to New York was my first plane ride.” I shake my head at the memory. “What an eye opener.”

  “I have lost count of my flights. I think I fly more than I drive.”

  “Do you even own a car? Rebecca told me most New Yorkers don’t own cars or drive.”

  “I own one. Next time you visit, I’ll take you driving.”

  I sit and turn to him with one leg hitched underneath me. Now that he was here, I wasn’t sure what we would do. Alone now, I felt strange, not sure if this was a good idea after all.

  “There’s not a lot to do here,” I nervously inform.

  I bite my lip liking the way the right side of his lip is turned up in a mischievous grin. “I didn’t come to see the town, I came to see you.”

  “You are so blunt, Ivan.”

  “So I’ve been told. I’m a little hungry, how about seafood. I noticed one on our drive in.”

  “Yeah, it’s called Sea’s. I hear the foods decent.”

  We ate, drank and did a little sightseeing. Ivan was captivated by our country accent.

  “You have a slight country accent, yourself but some of these people sound right out of a western. They’re not too keen on interracial dating I see.”

  “No,” I agree. “But it has gotten better. You see more and more mix couples now more than ever.”

  We walk the mall and he make some small purchases. It had been a long day and I was ready to relax. I felt a little jetlagged even though I had not been the one to take the flight.

  Back at my home, we lounge on the sofa, fresh from a shower. Ivan had managed to sit close to me taking my hand in his and caressing it. I ease my hand away, uncomfortable with his touch.

  “Since you are my guest, I’m going to give you the bed and I’m going to take the sofa.”

  “No, I’ll take the sofa,” he objects.

  “No, I insist. This couch is a pull out so it’s okay.”

  “Maybe we should both take the bed. I can be a complete gentleman when it requires.”

  “You can take the bed, I will take the couch.” I stand, gathering sheets and a blanket. Maybe we should have spoken about the sleeping arrangements, I was just glad that he wanted to visit but I wasn’t ready to sleep with him. I knew nothing about him and unlike Rebecca, I wasn’t promiscuous.

  Ivan followed me into the bedroom, watching me as I pull back the covers.

  “Okay. I’ll take the sofa. I’m a late sleeper and an early riser so it’ll be best.”

  “Okay,” I agree, not wanting to argue further about the sleeping arrangements. “I guess we should have talked about it before you came.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything, I still would have come.”

  “Well, I’m tired Ivan, just make yourself at home.”

  “Okay.” He looks up at me, his eyes holding mine. “Goodnight, Zontie.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I hardly slept that night, the thought of him so close driving me crazy.

  ***

  The days went fast and by the fourth night, I decided to invite some friends over. They welcomed Ivan with open arms. That’s what I loved about country towns, we never met a stranger. They loved Ivan’s accent, they couldn’t decide whether it was Russian, Midwestern or something else entirely.

  “I’ve been all over,” Ivan brags. “However, I spent the longest time in Iowa where my aunt and uncle worked doing some government research until they were killed.”

  This brought sympathy from my girlfriends, another thing about the country, the girls here would steal your man faster than it took to get him in the first place. Ivan graciously backed away from their advances, laying a hand around my back or shoulders, sometimes placing kisses on my cheek or forehead. I liked the attention and I loved the jealously it caused my friends.

  The night went on with a lot of gossip, card games and drinks until early in the morning.

  “Well, that went okay,” I surmise, cleaning up.

  “Yes, not one snob in the bunch. The men are so macho and the girls are so, well, I don’t have a word for them. I wouldn’t call them friends though, try that in New York and you’ll end up in the hospital.”

  “Here also, but they know how far to take it,” I answer, taking up for them.

  “If you say so.”

  The cleanup was quick and by 3:30, I was done with my shower and in bed. The next morning, I awoke to Ivan cooking breakfast while watching a court show on TV.

  “You need cable,” he told me. “I miss CNN.”

  “I’m not home enough to even watch TV,” I explain.

  Breakfast was good and we sat around until noon then left to check out the new Will Smith movie.

  The week wrapped up quickly and it was time for Ivan to return home.

  “I can’t believe it’s already over,” he grumble, sipping on a glass of wine.

  “Yeah, I’m glad you came, it was fun having you here.”

  “So, I guess you will have to come see me next.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that I couldn’t afford that sort of trip. The airfare alone would break me.

  “I’ll pay for it of course,” he says, watching me.

  “We’ll see,” taking a sip of my wine.

  “Zontie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want you to come see me. I’m going to you a ticket and then it’s up to you.”

  “Ivan, I don’t want you to pay for anything.”

  He takes my hand, squeeze, and then let’s go. I could tell he wanted to say more. We sat watching a Russian movie in black and white, English subtitles running across the screen. By the end of the movie, I was still lost; I guess not concentrating on the movie, his presence having an effect on me even after being in my presence for six straight days.

  “Strange movie,” I comment, watching him take it out and place in its case.

  “I’ll leave it with you. It’s much better a second viewing.”

  He returns, sitting closer and wraps his arm around my shoulders. We watch the late night news while he rubs his thumb up and down my neck. Other than an occasional peck on the lips when my friends were over, we had not kissed like the day he arrived a week ago.

  I was glad he was taking it slow and not being forward with me but I felt I had let him down in a way by holding him at arm’s length.

  I turn toward him. “So, what time,” I begin, turning toward him. He was watching me. I smile and begin again. “What time is your flight?”

  “Eleven.” He continue to watch me, his eyes lingering on my lips.

  I became self-conscious.

  “I guess we better lay it down. We have to get up early to take you to the airport. You’re welcome to sleep with me tonight if you want.”

  “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that, and it’s more a want, a need, yeah, a deep need to hold you close.”

  “Hey, no funny business.”

  “Not even a little,” he quip.

  “Come on, crazy, let’s go to bed.”

  ***

  At the airport, it was hard to say goodbye. I give him a long hug and when I pull back, he pulls me close and kiss me gently. He had been a total gentleman last night and did nothing but hold me close while we slept.

  “Zontie, what is this?” he ask, my face in his hands. His eyes holding mine.

  “What you mean?” I glance around. People walked around us heading to their destination. The announcer calls for his flight.

  “Us. Is this a relatio
nship?”

  I look down, then back up and softly answer, “I guess – I guess it’s a long distance relationship.” I hold his gaze wanting to see his reaction.

  His eyes brightens. “I’ll miss you,” he confesses, kissing me again. I smile pleased that he feels the exact way I feel.

  “Call me when you land, okay.”

  “I will.” I watch him until he is out my view. I turn to head back to my car only to turn back to find him standing. “Promise me you’ll come see me!” he shouts.

  “You came all the way back to tell me that?”

  “Promise me, Zontie!”

  “I promise, now go catch your flight before you miss it.”

  ***

  When I arrive in New York, Ivan meets me with a big bouquet of flowers and a welcomed smile. He lifts me from the ground and gives me a huge hug and a kiss. People are watching but I don’t care.

  “I missed you,” I confess.

  “I missed you, too,” he says, handing me the flowers.

  “I love them, thank you.”

  “How did you like first class?”

  “It was wonderful. I felt like a queen. People were looking around wondering if I was some singer or something. It was great.”

  I hadn’t seen him in over a month and through his persistence, I would stay for a week. My folks back home were interested in who he was and why I had not brought him around. The honest answer was that I had to be sure he was the one. I just didn’t introduce them to anyone. If this didn’t work out, I would have fun along the way and I prayed that I would not fall in love – I couldn’t take another heartbreak if this didn’t work out.

  During my visit, he took me to see Color Purple and Wicked. I was hooked. I couldn’t wait to return and see another Broadway show. I even went to a ballet, which put tears in my eyes. I experienced my first art gallery exhibit and Ivan bought a small piece for me that I couldn’t stop looking at. It was a simple art piece of an old, downtrodden man holding onto his grandchild who love for his grandfather was apparent in his bright brown eyes. I saw my life in that piece.

  The week went great. Every night, I laid in his arms, we both talked of dreams, death of love ones, life and aspirations. This night we talked of our relationship.

  “I want to be closer to you,” there is need in his voice when he says it. I knew this could not be. We were separated by 1700 miles.

  “Ivan, eventually this will dwindle. Let’s just say what it is. Long distant relationships never work.”

  “Then, I’ll move to Texas if I have to.”

  “You . . . in some country town. You’re bigger than that,” I proclaim.

  “Then you move. You could always tutor up here.”

  “But my family.”

  “Excuse after excuse, Zontie,” he whispers and he was right. I was afraid. I turn over and face him.

  “How do you know when to decide to take that leap?” I ask. “I’m not sure what this is,” I pause not wanting to say the words but did anyway. “This is an infatuation. It’s lust. Something new but when that newness wears off where will we be then?”

  “How can this be lust when we haven’t even had sex yet,” he defends. “Yes, you’re right, it’s an infatuation but in every new relationship there always is some kind of infatuation. As for lust, if it was that deep lust, we’ll be like your friend Rebecca and tearing at each other’s clothes and fucking liking rabbits.”

  I flinch, that was the first time I’ve ever heard him swear.

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, Zontie, but just take a leap. I could move or you could. See where things take us. Maybe it’s time to get out from under your parent’s wings. Take a leap of faith.”

  I stare at him. He was right. I’ve never done anything out of the ordinary. I was almost twenty-six years old and never done anything for me.

  ***

  I moved in and it felt like I had been transformed into a completely new person. I became more confident, freer to be myself. Ivan introduced me to an entire new crowd of eclectic carefree people, not those snobbish ones that I met when I first came up to New York.

  I was so happy with him and he with me. Ivan lived an expensive life but he never flaunted it. I wanted to ask him how he was able to afford his lifestyle but I thought it rude and he should be the one to bring it up. I did like that we were always together, his presence never irritating.

  We had been living together for six weeks now and I felt it was time to take the next leap. He had been so understanding, never trying to force himself on me. I went out alone and bought his favorite food to prepare for him and other things to get us in the mood. When I returned home, he was sitting on the balcony drinking a beer; it was the first time I had ever seen him drinking before supper.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He takes a long sip of his beer before answering. “My mother called.”

  “What she want?”

  “My father died. She wants me to come back to Russia to plan his funeral and square out his estate.”

  I go to him. “I’m so sorry, Ivan.” I wrap my arms around him, ignoring the beer on his breath.

  “I’m not,” he scowls. “My father was a bastard. He beat me every day until my aunt and uncle traded their land for me. I’m just pissed that I must return – return the same land that he sold me for.” My heart broke hearing this. To be treated so unkindly by your own father. I couldn’t imagine it. My loving and protective father never once laid a hand on me, even when I deserved it.

  “We have so much estate it’ll take weeks to square everything over.”

  I saw so much pain in his face, it made my heart ache. “It’s your family, Ivan. How long it takes, I’ll be here waiting.” I take the beer from his hand and lead him inside.

  “What you need is a long bath, a massage and some loving.” I lead him to the master bedroom. “I’ll run you a warm bath. Soak a little and I’ll come back to give you that massage.”

  “No, stay,” he demands, pulling me back. “I need you.”

  “You want me to soak with you.”

  “Yeah.”

  I’ve never been completely naked in front of him before, other than some heavy petting and oral sex on his part, this was a new experience. We undressed together, I never seen him naked below the waist and I tried not to look. This was a strange relationship and I’m surprised it took this long to get to this moment. After I was naked, I dimmed the lights, and stepped into the huge Jacuzzi tub, Ivan followed, easing behind me and taking me into his arms.

  I should be holding him instead.

  “Let me wash your hair,” I offer.

  “No, I just want to hold you like this.”

  “Okay.”

  He held me while warm aromatic water massage our bodies from all directions. I used his firm thighs as an armrest and leaned against his chest. Ivan caressed my arms causing goose bumps to surface upon my dark smooth skin. I bent my right leg, letting it fall to the side, causing my submerged lips to part. With his mouth near my ear, he asked if I’m okay, his lips lightly touching my lobe. I give a small nod and answer yes with a low moan. “Good,” he reply, leaning back and letting his body rest against the backsplash.

  I close my eyes and allow the sensation of the sixteen jets and the subtle touch of Ivan lulls me to sleep. When I wake, it is to Ivan applying shower gel to my shoulders. He wash my shoulders, arms, back and finally my breast. My dark nipples are rock hard anticipating the feel of his fingers upon them. He bathe and massages them, they are heavy in his hands. I wrap my arms around his neck, liking the way he tweaks my nipples.

  “Turn around,” he orders. I turn and face him. He is hard, his rigidness sticking straight up. I take the gel and towel from him and wash his chest, shoulders, and upper back. He has a naturally muscular built, the hair on his chest thin. I then work my way down, washing his stomach, then his hardness.

  “I w
ant to make love to you,” he implores, his face full of passion.

  “I’m yours,” I answer, kissing him softly.

  We step out of the bath and take turn drying each other off. Ivan has his way with my breast before working his way down, hitching my leg on the edge of the tub. He licks my opening, sending me shivering. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I pull away, take his hand, and lead him to the bed. We are still slightly damp but it makes the moment more sensual.

  I lie on the bed and watch him as he light candles and click off the lights. He ease over me, kissing me passionately. His hardness rubs against my pelvis, his size just perfect for me.

  He begins speaking to me in Russian.

  “What are you saying?” I beseech, simply aroused by the language and his compassion.

  “Remember them,” he tells me in English.

  He kiss and licks my neck, trailing his way down to the other parts of my body. I try to return the favor but he pushes me back, taking complete control of my body. Ivan has me dizzy with desire. His touch makes me shiver, I feel so much love and endearment in his touch.

  The words he says, I now know in English . . .

  “You are my heart. Each day, I thank God that I wake up beside you. When I first saw you, I knew we would grow old together. I want you to have my children, be my wife, be my life. I love you more than my own soul. I would die for you.” All this spoken throughout the night of our lovemaking, over and over, imbedded into my memory.

  When he first entered me, I thought I would explode, however, he moves slow, very slow, looking into my eyes, filling me up with each slow thrust. So much pleasure made my heart skip several beats.

  “Don’t look away. Look at me. See how much I want you, I need you,” he tells me. “Be my forever and I promise I will never deny you my Russian kiss.” I hold onto him, meeting his thrust until all control goes out the door and we are meeting bliss together, he calling out my name and I, his.

  He takes my body all night, the next morning I am exhausted from his touch.

  ***

  “. . . . You want me to be Your Forever,” I repeat, twirling my fingers around a strand of his peppered hair.

  His long trip showed on his handsome face, however, the smile he gives me erase away the stress lines. “Very good my love,” he replies.

  “You also promised me a kiss,” I speak in his language.