Alonzo’s eyes, as if studying her, when he seemingly thought she wasn’t looking.
“This is you?” she said, looking at the handsome, shirtless man in dark slacks.
“Yes, that’s me,” Alonzo said. “Many, many years ago. I was in tip-top shape back then.”
“You’re in tip-top shape now,” Loretta whispered without realizing it, as she let her hands travel the photo over his broad chest.
“You’re a good liar,” he chuckled, “But I was in my prime back when I was trying to return to boxing.”
“You were a boxer?” Loretta asked. Every day it seemed something about Alonzo Thornton intrigued her more.
“Yes, I was just a teenager in Galonias when I was coming up in the ranks. Then I moved to America. After college, after the vineyard was running smoothly, I played around in the sport again, but that was a long time ago.”
Loretta noticed his eyes lit up as he talked about the sport.
“Not so long ago that you can’t get back into it if you want to.”
“I’m a little up in age for that,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his brandy.
“I don’t mean compete, I mean train for the sport of it. You know, find a group of guys who like doing what you like doing, and, well, just socialize in the sport.”
She chatted on and on, and Alonzo just listened. That was one of the things he enjoyed most about her; just listening to her talk, filling the air with goals and dreams in an almost singing voice.
“What?” she asked, chuckling as she realized he was staring at her.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the sound of your voice. “
Loretta blushed and pulled her feet under her on the couch. They had both kicked off their shoes and were lounging comfortably.
“Do I make you blush?” he asked, catching her off guard, as he brought the silver rimmed snifter to his lips.
She looked at him for a long few seconds. “Yes, you do,” she finally admitted, all too aware he also made the soft, moist petals under her lace panties flutter.
He smiled. They had moved back down to the great room, refreshed their drinks, and were sitting close to each other again on the couch. He leaned over the coffee table and suddenly closed the photo album.
“Enough about me and my family,” he said. “I want to see some photos of Brianna and Terrell?”
“Well, I have plenty of them, but they’re at the cottage.”
“You don’t have any in your purse?” he asked, gesturing toward her pearl bag on the table in the foyer. “I know mothers keep pictures of their children close by.”
“I do, but just wallet-size ones.”
“Well, dig them out. I want to see,” he said. Alonzo wanted to know everything about her.
“Yes, sir,” she said playfully, standing up.
Alonzo took in her full, shapely frame as she walked over to the little marble-topped, curvy table in his foyer.
Loretta could feel his eyes on her.
His gaze did not leave her when she turned around and made her way back toward him. She could feel her nipples harden as his eyes traveled from her face, to her bosom, down to her hips.
“Well, here are a couple,” she purred, almost out of wind as she pictured his hands on her body. The brandy had more than fanned the flame of her rising desire for lovemaking.
As she thumbed through the dozen or so small school photos she kept in her wallet of her children, Alonzo’s strong fingers stopped her.
“And this one?” he asked, staring admiringly at the photo.
“That’s me, over twenty years ago. It was my wedding day.”
“Ah, Loretta. Look at you. Stunning,” he said, his broad hands traveling the photo. “Almost as stunning as you are now.”
“Oh, stop,” Loretta said, warmness filling her cheeks.
“You are beautiful, you know,” Alonzo breathed, staring intently at her.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to
“This is you?” she said, looking at the handsome, shirtless man in dark slacks.
“Yes, that’s me,” Alonzo said. “Many, many years ago. I was in tip-top shape back then.”
“You’re in tip-top shape now,” Loretta whispered without realizing it, as she let her hands travel the photo over his broad chest.
“You’re a good liar,” he chuckled, “But I was in my prime back when I was trying to return to boxing.”
“You were a boxer?” Loretta asked. Every day it seemed something about Alonzo Thornton intrigued her more.
“Yes, I was just a teenager in Galonias when I was coming up in the ranks. Then I moved to America. After college, after the vineyard was running smoothly, I played around in the sport again, but that was a long time ago.”
Loretta noticed his eyes lit up as he talked about the sport.
“Not so long ago that you can’t get back into it if you want to.”
“I’m a little up in age for that,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his brandy.
“I don’t mean compete, I mean train for the sport of it. You know, find a group of guys who like doing what you like doing, and, well, just socialize in the sport.”
She chatted on and on, and Alonzo just listened. That was one of the things he enjoyed most about her; just listening to her talk, filling the air with goals and dreams in an almost singing voice.
“What?” she asked, chuckling as she realized he was staring at her.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the sound of your voice. “
Loretta blushed and pulled her feet under her on the couch. They had both kicked off their shoes and were lounging comfortably.
“Do I make you blush?” he asked, catching her off guard, as he brought the silver rimmed snifter to his lips.
She looked at him for a long few seconds. “Yes, you do,” she finally admitted, all too aware he also made the soft, moist petals under her lace panties flutter.
He smiled. They had moved back down to the great room, refreshed their drinks, and were sitting close to each other again on the couch. He leaned over the coffee table and suddenly closed the photo album.
“Enough about me and my family,” he said. “I want to see some photos of Brianna and Terrell?”
“Well, I have plenty of them, but they’re at the cottage.”
“You don’t have any in your purse?” he asked, gesturing toward her pearl bag on the table in the foyer. “I know mothers keep pictures of their children close by.”
“I do, but just wallet-size ones.”
“Well, dig them out. I want to see,” he said. Alonzo wanted to know everything about her.
“Yes, sir,” she said playfully, standing up.
Alonzo took in her full, shapely frame as she walked over to the little marble-topped, curvy table in his foyer.
Loretta could feel his eyes on her.
His gaze did not leave her when she turned around and made her way back toward him. She could feel her nipples harden as his eyes traveled from her face, to her bosom, down to her hips.
“Well, here are a couple,” she purred, almost out of wind as she pictured his hands on her body. The brandy had more than fanned the flame of her rising desire for lovemaking.
As she thumbed through the dozen or so small school photos she kept in her wallet of her children, Alonzo’s strong fingers stopped her.
“And this one?” he asked, staring admiringly at the photo.
“That’s me, over twenty years ago. It was my wedding day.”
“Ah, Loretta. Look at you. Stunning,” he said, his broad hands traveling the photo. “Almost as stunning as you are now.”
“Oh, stop,” Loretta said, warmness filling her cheeks.
“You are beautiful, you know,” Alonzo breathed, staring intently at her.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to
Similar Books
