Читать книгу Lessons From A Younger Lover - Zuri Day - Страница 11

Gwen settled into the soft leather of the fiery red Porsche 911 Carrera. His choice of cars did not surprise her—Adam had always liked living life in the fast lane. She pulled the seat belt over her midsection and brushed the straight auburn locks away from her face. Adam’s middle-aged transformation had surprised her, but maybe they could be friends after all.

“Nice car,” she said, once Adam had moved from opening her car door to getting in on the driver’s side.

“Ah, it’s no big deal.”

“It suits you. You were always fast: on the field, on the courts, with the ladies….”

Adam laughed as he purposely brushed his hand against Gwen’s thigh while shifting into reverse. “That was a long time ago,” he said as he put the car in first gear and brushed her thigh again. “I’m much more selective now.”

Gwen shifted her legs away from the gear shaft and tried to relax. Even though he wasn’t the fine hunk he once was, this was still the Adam Johnson, known for his smooth lines and sexual prowess. More than one classmate had bragged about his powerfully thick…Gwen willed her thoughts away from their strayed course and struggled for safe conversation.

“This city sure has changed,” she ventured.

“Yeah, the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“How’s that?”

Adam shrugged. “There are new businesses and roads and whatnot. The population has doubled. But the narrow-mindedness, attitudes—there hasn’t been much change there.”

“You mean old Ms. Disney is still as prejudiced as she used to be?”

“Only with you girls. You know she always liked the brothahs.”

Gwen shook her head. “Yeah, I still remember y’all got away with murder. And if I talked out of turn even once, it was on to the principal’s office.”

She became more relaxed as they reminisced about old times and shared memories, people they’d both gone to school with and events they’d experienced growing up in Sienna.

“You remember when O. J. Simpson came to our school? Talked to us about putting education first and taking pride in our community?”

Gwen laughed. “What female who was there could forget that? We didn’t sleep for a week!”

“Man, he had it all—money, fame, everybody’s respect—and now look where’s he at. I bet he didn’t imagine this chapter at the end of his life story.”

Gwen shook her head sadly. “I doubt it.”

“I don’t feel sorry for him though.”

“Why not?”

“Shoot, the man had nine lives, and used them all. A black man killed two white people and got away with it? Living large on a golf course in Florida? And still kept fucking up—excuse me, messing up? I’m glad they finally nabbed his ass in Vegas, and he’s doing time. He deserves whatever he gets.”

Gwen looked hard at Adam. It surprised her that a fellow footballer, one who’d been as goo-goo-eyed as anyone when Mr. Simpson made an appearance at their school and singled out Adam as the then star junior high player, would shift his allegiance.

“I don’t think he killed Ron and Nicole,” she said after a brief hesitation. “I think he knows who did it, but I don’t think it was him. And as for that ‘armed robbery conviction’”—Gwen made quotes in the air with her fingers—“we all know what that was about. O. J. went to prison for what happened in Brentwood, not for what supposedly went down in a Vegas hotel.”

Adam grunted but remained silent. He understood the O. J. effect. It was the same one he used to have on women. It was hard for any estrogen-laden female to believe that someone who made their pussy throb could commit such a crime. That was why there were so many unreported acts of domestic violence. A big dick trumped a lot of wrongs. His bravado returned full force as he turned into the steak house parking lot.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Gwen protested yet again at being taken out to lunch.

“Please, this isn’t part of the interview. It’s an invite from an old friend.” Adam placed his large hand over her much smaller one and cast puffy bedroom eyes on her lips, yet again licking his own in anticipation of what was to come. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got the job.”

An hour and a half later Gwen almost peeled out of the Sienna Elementary School parking lot as she tried to figure out how things had gotten out of hand so quickly. After almost sideswiping an older man in a blue Chevy pickup, she took a deep breath, gripped the steering wheel of her rental car, and forced herself to calm down.

The lunch had started out friendly and average: she’d ordered chopped steak with gravy and mashed potatoes, Adam a T-bone and fries. Their conversation veered from education to politics, and back to mutual people they’d known growing up. They’d enjoyed a civil ride back to the school parking lot…and then Adam had turned into a piranha.

“I’m very excited that you’ve come back home,” he’d said as he opened the door for her to step out of the borrowed Porsche. He remained close as she stood, barely giving her room to breathe, let alone move.

“Uh, thanks, Adam,” Gwen had replied, trying to ease her small frame through an even smaller exit.

Nothing doing. Adam pinned her against the warm metal and pressed a kiss against the plush, coral-colored lips he’d been eyeing all afternoon.

“Adam!”

“Don’t worry, no one can see us from here.” He stepped even closer, his pouch of a stomach pressing into Gwen’s midsection and cutting off her air.

“That’s not the point,” she said as she angrily pushed him away from her. When his eyes narrowed angrily, she thought of her impending job, and tried to soften her rejection of his affections.

“Look, Adam. You’ve always been a star with us, you know that. And I’m flattered that after all these years you find me attractive. God knows you never did before,” she added under her breath. But Adam heard.

“Don’t hold how stupid I was years ago against me,” he whined, stepping close once again.

Gwen spun out of his embrace and put two additional feet between them. “The past is the past, Adam. And while I’m thankful that you’re here and we can establish a friendship, the fact is, I’m still married. The divorce proceedings have been less than cordial, my mother is ill, and quite frankly, romance is the last thing on my mind.”

She smiled and once again tried to smooth ruffled ego feathers. “Let’s just be friends…okay? Let me get settled into this new life, have my divorce finalized, get my mother relocated, and then, maybe, I can…think of other things.”

This time, Adam didn’t try and hide his brash head-to-toe perusal of Gwen’s body. “Yeah, I guess we’ve got all the time in the world, huh? But I’m coming after you, Gwen Andrews. And you know I always get what I come after.”

In what was quickly becoming a nauseating habit for Gwen, Adam licked his lips for the umpteenth time before heading toward the school’s side entrance. But LL Cool J he was not, and if it weren’t for the fact that her job was on the line, Gwen would have made him aware of this fact and then offered him some Chapstick.

Still feeling nervous and annoyed, Gwen ran her hand through her straight, silky bob as she drove down Main Street. She reached a light and noticed a coffee shop on the opposite corner. A locally owned, Starbucks-feeling establishment without the high prices, it was one of the new businesses Adam had mentioned. Hot chocolate had always been a soother of Gwen’s spirits. She was a connoisseur when it came to the cacao bean and decided to rate their services. The light turned green and minutes later, Gwen walked into the airy, aromatic establishment.

Meanwhile, Adam steamed, and hot chocolate had nothing to do with it. He knew he was no longer the handsome hunk Gwen may have expected, but he hadn’t grown used to being turned down. Especially by former ugly ducklings like Gwen Andrews. How in the heck had she changed so much for the better while his looks had gone to the dogs? Twenty years ago, she would have given him her cherry for a five-minute conversation. And yet here she was telling him to hold on? This was not the turn of events he’d imagined. Heck, he’d never even given a thought to dating Gwen. The high school classmate he remembered was shy, a tad homely, and uneducated in the art of boy-girl relations. One look at her as she walked into his office and his thoughts immediately turned from classroom visits to extracurricular caresses. And she’d told him to wait? Because of a piece of paper and a sick mother? Didn’t she know that nobody turned down Adam Johnson…for any reason?

Adam floored the gas pedal and the Porsche roared forward. He swerved between the four other cars around him and took the corner on two wheels. He knew where he could go and get both his ego and libido massaged, and reached for his cell phone to set up the visit. Gwen probably can’t crack a good nut anyway, he thought, as he imagined her sexual ineptitude. Then he thought of being her teacher in the art of all things erotic, and his desire for her returned.