by Jove Belle

Feedback is always welcome: jovebelle@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2006 by Jove Belle. All Rights Reserved.

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“I heard about a new place a few blocks from here.” Rachael linked her arm through Tyler’s as they walked down the corridor, continuing her effervescent chatter. “Actually, it’s not new. I guess it’s been there for years. It’s just new to us. Funny thing is, we’ve walked past it hundreds of times. I don’t know how we could have missed it.”

Her curiosity piqued, Tyler asked, “What’s it called?”

“It doesn’t have a name!” Rachael’s face lit up at the hint of mystery. “Isn’t that wild? The only thing distinguishing it as a business is the license posted in the bottom corner of the front window.”

“That explains it.” Tyler offered.

“Of course,” Rachael mused over the top of Tyler, “you can’t get a business license without a business name.” She paused for a moment. “Explains what?”

“Why we haven’t seen it.” Tyler settled her sunglasses in to place before holding the door open for Rachael. “No sign is like urban camouflage.”

Leaning her head conspiratorially close to Tyler’s, Rachael waved to a woman lounging against the wall. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Chris to join us today,” Rachael explained sotto voce before extending an enthusiastic greeting to the waiting woman. “Hello! I see you were able to drag yourself away from work long enough to dine with the mere mortals.”

Chris stood well inside the bounds of the no smoking section, a defiant tendril of smoke lacing up from the lit cigarette in her hand. “Thanks for inviting me.” She pushed away from the wall and fell in step next the Rachael. Tyler wondered how long the two women would continue this flirtatious dance before they mustered up the courage to move their relationship to the next level. It was becoming painful to watch and Tyler was fairly certain the hormones would cause one of them to spontaneously combust if not properly tended to soon.

They walked the five blocks in silence. Tyler too caught up in coveting Chris’s cigarette to realize that her friends weren’t talking either. Tyler glanced sideways and noticed that she was slightly separated from the other two. Unable to resist the gravitational pull, they had drifted closer together during the short trip.

“I think this is it.” Rachael scrunched up her nose as she evaluated the grey door in front of her.

Tyler stepped back to take in the entire building. The older, two story building - brown and nondescript - was common for this part of Portland. “Are you sure?”

“This is 236 Alder.” Rachael pointed one long finger at the small rectangle of paper taped to the small window in the door. “And there’s the business license.”

Chris flicked her cigarette butt into the gutter. “Only one way to find out for sure.” She pulled open the door and disappeared into the dark entrance.

Not impressed by the assumption that cigarette butts were bio-degradable, Tyler retrieved the abandoned filter from the street before following her friends into the building.

The dim lighting forced Tyler to pause just inside the door to regain her bearings. Tyler pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and glanced around the room. An old juke box held court along the back wall, Billie Holiday spilling out of the speaker. The slight crackle gave proof that the machine held authentic vinyl records, not crisp, clean, sanitized to the point of boredom, compact discs.

Tyler braced herself against the expected blast of cold, perfectly conditioned air - a blast that never came. She relaxed into a room that was comfortably several degrees lower than the heavy August day she stepped out of. The high ceiling held several slow moving fans, rotating at a lazy speed that threatened to stop entirely if not granted the luxury of setting their own pace. Large wicker fronds spidered out from the axis, rather than the standard issue blades.

“Tyler, over here.” Rachael beckoned to her from a secluded, round table at the back of the room. Tyler suspected that Rachael was grateful for the forced physical intimacy as she slid her chair closer to Chris, creating space for a third person at the undersized table for two.

Carefully navigating her way between diners, Tyler inhaled deeply. She reasoned that even though the second hand smoke in the room would never be enough to alleviate her craving, it still provided mild, guilt free gratification.

Tyler dropped the discarded cigarette butt in the ashtray in the middle of the table as she pulled out her chair. A light hand melted into her shoulder as she eased down into the seat. She glanced up at the owner, prepared to school the invader on the importance of observing personal space etiquette. A stifled “hmpgh” was all she could manage as eyes of wet coal invited her into their depths.

Caught in the cascading labyrinth of warmth, Tyler barely registered the simply stated, “Welcome.” The woman held Tyler’s gaze for several moments longer before spreading her attention to the rest of the group. As the waitress knelt, bringing her to eye level with the diners, the hand resting on Tyler’s shoulder made a lazy decent down her back finding a new home just above the top of her slacks. “Would you like to hear the specials?” Her voice was warmed honey, smooth and slowly flowing, trapping the listener in its depth.

A small fire flickered and smoldered beneath the woman’s touch, threatening to spread, unheeded to the rest of Tyler’s body. She tried to focus on what the woman was saying, but found herself captivated by the deep melody of speech, rather than the words themselves.

“I’ll have the blackened snapper.” Chris did not look away from Rachael as she ordered. “How ‘bout you, Rach?”

Rachael studied the menu a moment longer before offering up her selection. “The New York strip steak with pine nuts and capers - medium.”

The woman turned her eyes back to Tyler, obsidian hair rippled around her shoulders. “For you?”

“I...uh...” Tyler stammered, “I’ll have a chicken caesar.” She had no idea if the salad was even on the menu, but it was a safe bet and the old standard was the only thought she could grab onto as she fell even deeper into the depthless orbs before her.

“Right.” She nodded in affirmation. “I’ll return with your food.” She rose with fluid grace, one finger burning a trail upward before leaving Tyler’s back entirely.

The music faded to a subtle crackle before starting again. The soulful yearning of Nina Simone threaded its way through the tables and swirled around Tyler’s head. Her eyes surfed the room on a languid wisp of smoke before lighting upon the dark beauty as she attended to the needs of the other diners. Tyler studied her carefully to see if she doled out her gift of momentary physical intimacy to anyone else. No. There was absolutely no touching of any kind. She began to wonder if she had imagined the whole encounter.

As the waitress floated from table to table, her generous, throaty laughter danced across the room to Tyler, melding with the longing of a young Ella Fitzgerald. Tyler had no memory of the music changing and had no idea how long she had been entranced by the raven haired beauty. She opened her mouth to ask Rachael, but quickly closed it again when she registered the sight of Chris and Rachael’s heads inclined toward one another. The two were engaged in a low, obviously private discussion.

The waitress paused for a moment, draping herself sensually over the juke box. With one hand braced on either side of the glass top, she moved with the fluid prowess of a jungle cat - sleek, sexy and fully in command. Her long skirt swirled around her legs, a hint of bare skin surfacing occasionally, whispering sweet promise to Tyler across the expanse of the room. She studied the song list intently before punching in her new selection, then turned to face Tyler. Her body never stopped the seductive movements to the piano and whiskey driven jazz as her eyes locked on Tyler’s.

Tyler grappled along the table in search of the pack of Marlboro reds she knew Chris had casually dropped near the ash tray. Finding her target, she pulled one free of the pack and lit it reflexively. Her eyes never left the woman’s as a curl of smoke carved a path up to the ceiling. Tyler inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar acrid burn to fill her lungs.

The popping silence filled the room as the song once again changed. The woman lowered her eyelids in a slow blink, freeing Tyler from their grasp. Caught in the downward movement of the woman’s lashes, Tyler allowed her eyes to continue their descent down the woman’s body. The tailored cream silk, open to the third button, testified to the supple curve of breast waiting beneath the shear fabric. Her form did not give way to waifish thinness, but rather her toned, trim waist spoke of strength. The loose french cuffs parted to reveal smooth hands with thin, elegant fingers.

Tyler exhaled in a whoosh and ran her tongue over her teeth. She took a desperate gulp of water to battle the sudden dryness in her mouth. The husky rasp of Joss Stone purred over the din of clinking glasses and low key conversations. Any other time, Tyler would have contemplated the significance of the juke box containing such a contemporary singer on vinyl. As it was, she couldn’t broaden her focus beyond the gentle, inviting curves. Tyler dropped her eyes and shook her head firmly - a reality check in an otherwise surreal experience. When she looked back, the woman was gone.

A desperate ache overwhelmed Tyler as she darted her attention from table to table in search of the woman. Unsuccessful in locating her quarry, Tyler sighed and tried to focus on the company of her friends, lacking though it was at the moment. Rachael was conducting herself with quiet reservation, rather than her normal, bubbling over the top demeanor and Chris held her barely tamed rebellion solidly in check.

The glowing ember of Chris’s cigarette, long since forgotten in the heavy, glass ash tray, faded into black as it reached the barely tainted filter. As she watched the two women lost to the world in each others eyes, Tyler sucked down another long drag from her pirated cigarette. She evaluated the paper covered tobacco, contemplating the wisdom of continuing to smoke it. The habit had only successfully been broken after several painful attempts and an inordinately large bill for hypno-therapy. Deciding the damage was all ready done, she flicked the ash and brought it to her lips again.

Materializing again at Tyler’s side, the woman carefully served first Chris, then Rachael. Before Tyler’s meal made it to the table, the longed for touch returned, this time to the base of her neck. She twined her fingers lightly in Tyler’s short curls as she set the salad between Tyler’s trembling hands. Sparks tripped from the woman’s finger tips to Tyler’s neck and rapidly down her spine.

The light brush of hair fanned across Tyler’s cheek as the woman pressed her lips close to Tyler’s ear. Warm breath caressed her skin as the woman promised, “I’ll be back to check on you, to see if I can provide you with anything else.” Her brain muddled by the scent of sandalwood mixed with the slightest hint of sage, Tyler barely managed a dim nod.

The plaintive, sweet voice of Sarah Vaughan vaguely registered as Tyler consumed her meal mechanically. The crunch of crisp romaine went unnoticed as her eyes tracked the woman flowing gracefully from person to person. Her eyes periodically returned to Tyler’s, enslaving her with only a glance.

Pushing back from the table, Tyler rose smoothly and crossed to the now quiet juke box. Scanning the selections, she punched in the number for Peggy Lee. Given the fever consuming her, it seemed only appropriate. She stuffed her hands into her pockets as she leaned back against the wall, waiting for the song to begin.

The woman brushed against her on her way toward a back hall, her hand searing a path across Tyler’s abdomen. She paused when she reached the door at the end of the corridor, her hand clasping the brass knob, and turned her eyes back to survey Tyler. An audible gasp escaped from Tyler as the woman sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and inclined her head toward the door, one eyebrow arched in invitation.

As the door closed behind the woman, Tyler’s knees buckled. She wasn’t sure her legs would carry her the length of the hall, but Tyler knew she would follow the scent of sandalwood and sage, even if she had to crawl on her hands and knees to get there. Forcing her feet free from the floor’s cement hold, Tyler threw herself away from the wall, tracing the path the woman had taken moments ago.

She took several deep breaths when she reached the door, wishing desperately for another cigarette. In one swift motion, Tyler pushed open the door, stepped into the even dimmer room and turned to close it behind her. She rested her forehead against the door and exhaled silently.

Hot breath pulsed on her neck as a slender arm reached into the void between Tyler and the door. The deafening ‘click’ of the lock mingled with Tyler’s labored breathing to fill the silence of the room.

A slow burn radiated outward from the pressure of the woman’s palm flat against Tyler’s stomach as she coaxed Tyler away from the door. Not turning, Tyler rolled her head back and tilted her cheek toward the woman. Her eyes closed as she surrendered to the scant whisper of skin against skin and as she pressed fully against the woman’s front. Hard nipples tattooed the woman’s desire into Tyler’s back.

With her free hand, the woman lightly traced the contour of Tyler’s face, her index finger smoothing over Tyler’s lips, pleading for entrance. Tyler caught the marauding finger between her teeth, sucking gently on the manicured tip, before rolling her tongue over the demanding surface.

Satisfied with the attention, the woman retracted her finger, tugging inadvertently on the bottom lip as she smoothed a scalding trail down Tyler’s chin and neck. Turning her face slightly, Tyler caught the woman’s full lips with her own, swallowing the exhaled moan that issued forth from the woman’s throat. A trembling tongue teased the edge of Tyler’s mouth before following the retreating hand down to the curve of Tyler’s neck.

The woman worked her hand down Tyler’s arm to rest momentarily, palm to palm against Tyler’s quivering hand. With her other hand, the woman made slow, lazy circles around Tyler’s belly button before bringing both hands, in tandem, to rest on Tyler’s hips.

A low, rumbling moan spilled out of Tyler as the woman’s hands worked their way beneath Tyler’s shirt. The shocked delight of the exploring touch against bare skin fanned the simmering heat between Tyler’s legs. She ground her hips back against the woman as studied fingers made short work of the button on Tyler’s slacks.

The maddeningly slow click, click, click of the zipper’s teeth disengaging swirled into Tyler’s ears with a lick and tingling exhale of the woman’s breath. Released from the constricting hold of the zipper, Tyler’s pants slid down her legs and collapsed in a heap at her ankles. The woman’s hands slipped beneath her panties, sending them to join her slacks, before resuming their carnal exploration of skin.

Tyler braced herself against the door as a hand detoured upward to declare ownership of her breasts, squeezing and kneading first one, then the other. Nipples straining to the point of bursting, Tyler gasped out a shredded, “Please.”

The woman bit down gently on Tyler’s earlobe as two fingers slid into the wet folds surrounding Tyler’s clit. “Que bella,” she groaned as she locked her hands on Tyler’s waist and flung her around, pushing her back into the door with punishing force.

Tyler’s eyes flew open as she struggled to untangle her feet from her restricting jumble of clothes. Falling into the depths of glistening midnight eyes, Tyler relinquished the fight, trusting the woman to center her and keep her vertical.

Locked on to Tyler’s hungry gaze, the woman insinuated herself into the space between Tyler’s legs. One arm held Tyler steady while the other hand resumed its worship of Tyler’s slick center. The surging rush of blood from Tyler’s head eclipsed her guttural moan as two fingers pushed inside her. Tyler jerked her hips forward, chasing the retreating fingers as they pulled back, only to return, harder and deeper than before.

Tyler ripped one leg free from the tangle of clothes around her ankles and wrapped it tightly around the woman as unrelenting fingers slammed into her, aided by the velocity of the woman’s hips. Tyler felt the familiar tightening and gathering before she was ready to surrender to it. Anchored by the swirling onyx eyes, Tyler met the woman’s thrusts as her body erupted into a tidal wave of sparks and flame. She collapsed against the woman with a whimper as her orgasm began to ebb.

Tyler returned her foot to the ground as the fingers eased out of her. The woman ran her tongue over her lips, before she stepped away from Tyler. “I’ve been gone too long,” she said in a hushed voice, “I need to return to my guests.”

Stunned, Tyler watched in silence as the woman left without further comment. Lena Horne greeted Tyler as she emerged from the storage room, her clothes returned to the usual, well kept state.

If Rachael and Chris noticed her prolonged absence, they didn’t mention it. “You two ready to go?” She asked, pulling her business card, along with several bills, from her wallet to leave on the table with the check.

Casting a parting glance over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her, Tyler caught one last glimpse of the woman embracing Etta Jones as she glided from table to table. Picking up Tyler’s business card, she sent Tyler a smoldering invitation to return as the door slid firmly into place.

During the short trip back to their office building, this time with Rachael and Chris holding hands, Rachael turned to Tyler and asked, “Well, what did you think?”

“Well,” Tyler answered thoughtfully, “the food didn’t make much of an impression, but the service was amazing.”

Rachael cocked one eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. “Amazing? Really? So should we come here again?”

“Definitely.” Tyler smothered a smile. “The sooner, the better.”

The End

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