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Breakfast was great. The food was satisfying and the company made my heart race and my brain fuzzy. I had a big crush on Deen. I felt like I was sixteen.
We kissed goodbye after lunch as he dropped me off at my car at his hotel. He had to go to his house to deal with a problem. His contractor had called and I could hear him yelling through the phone.
The week went by slowly, but I texted with Deen on and off all day. We usually talked on the phone in the evenings for at least an hour. I was smiling all the time.
Thursday morning Deen texted me. "I've got a consultation with Dr. Evans at 11:30. Want to get lunch after?"
Dr. Evans was a department head here at the VA. Deen was coming here and he wanted to take me to lunch. I fought a small wave of panic. I'd been alright, better than alright out in public, but this was my workplace. I knew everyone and I had to come back here every day.
I stopped and cleared my mind for a moment. I thought about my options and the only real option was lunch with Deen. I didn't care what my coworkers thought. At least not enough to not see Deen. I was already looking forward to it and I hadn't even replied.
"Do you know where the admin offices are? I'll be working until you get here. Can't wait." I hit send and grinned to myself. He texted back that he did. I tried to focus on work until lunchtime. It didn't go too badly.
By noon I was nervous. Glenn hadn't ever come by my office for lunch. We'd eat lunch together a lot, but we always met at one of our usual spots.
I straightened my uniform as I waited. Seconds later Deen filled my doorway. I looked him over, seeing him in work clothes for the first time. When I stood, he clearly did the same to me in my uniform.
He had on dark grey slacks that fit surprisingly well over his huge legs. His white pinstripe dress shirt had to have been custom made, because his chest to waist ratio was not standard for any clothing retailer. It fit him too perfectly to be anything other than custom. The tie he wore added the right amount of vibrant color to this vibrant giant.
"Damn, you look gorgeous in your uniform, honey." His eyes trailed over me just as mine did to him.
"You look incredibly handsome, too." I stepped closer and he pulled me in, kissing me gently.
We walked out of the hospital and drove to a local favorite for lunch. It was so wonderful to see him in the middle of a Thursday. The hour went by way too fast. I wished I could see him everyday. I was falling fast and it felt brand new. It was exciting and terrifying.
Back at the office, my afternoon dragged by. I texted Deen a few times, but we were both too busy to really talk. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a department assistant crashed into my office waving her phone in my face. She was always drama-filled.
"Blake! Was your man here for lunch? Gloria said he looked like The Rock. Does he actually look like this?" She shoved her phone in front of me.
The Rock, Dwayne Johnson was in the gym, wearing only shorts and covered in sweat in the photo. I realized almost immediately that yes, Dwayne and Deen were nearly the exact same size. Deen was somehow wider at the shoulders and not as lean as Dwayne in this picture, but yeah, they were the same.
"He does. Just with more hair everywhere. And a beard. And no tattoos." I answered the skeptical young lady standing next to me. I almost made a comment about her calling him "my man", but I left it alone. It was easier that way.
"Why didn't you bring him around? I want to see him!"
"First of all, he's not a thing to be seen, he's a respected doctor who also happens to have been a professional bodybuilder. And it's new, so I wasn't going to put him through meeting the whole office on our first lunch date."
She grumbled and threatened that I better introduce him next time.........I tuned her out as she bitched her way back out of my office. I got up and closed the door against any further intrusions.
As I sat back down I pulled out my phone and Googled The Rock. I scrolled through a ton of pictures of him in gym clothes and all dressed up. The ones of him wearing his wrestling bikini caught my eye. But all I could see was the comparison between him and Deen.
Dwayne was an A-list celebrity. He was an action movie star and a well known WWE personality, amongst a ton of other accomplishments. Everyone generally loved The Rock. He was gorgeous, men and women lusted after him. Deen was the same size with the same build.
I let it percolate for a few minutes. I thought about the few people I'd noticed glancing our way at lunch today. A table of women had looked at him with clear interest. Deen was the most incredible specimen in the whole room. In every room he entered. And he was with ME. He had eyes for only me.
A few weeks ago he looked like a freak to me. He was so extreme and so different from my usual taste. But then I got to know him and I could start to see him with clear eyes, not resistant eyes.
He was the most amazing guy, lover and friend. Oh my god. I was in love with Deen. It scared me. Not for the reasons it had a few weeks ago. It wasn't about his appearance or what people thought. Now I was scared of getting hurt or everything fizzling out. This hot spark between us couldn't last. It never did. Only in books and movies.
I tried to stop overthinking. I should focus on the fact that I was pretty much over my aversion to Deen's extreme physique. I was into him in every way. I'd worry about the inevitable end a little bit later.
That night, as Deen and I talked on the phone he suggested I pack a bag and just come straight over to his hotel after work tomorrow, for the whole weekend. I quickly agreed and happily packed a bag with extra things, thinking about leaving some stuff over there for later. It felt crazy, but nice.
Assuming I'd miss my Saturday call with my mom, I called her Friday during my lunch break. I locked my office door and hit the call button on her contact.
"It's a day early, is everything alright?" Not even a hello. Nice.
"Hello, Mom. Everything's fine. How are you?"
"Then why are you calling a day early?"
This topic was clearly unavoidable, so I just bit the bullet. "I have plans for the weekend, so I won't be able to call. It's not the first time this has ever happened, don't act so suspicious."
"You're spending the weekend with the gorgeous eyes guy, aren't you?"
"Why do you assume that? It could be Tom and Gia or the guys in the city."
"Seriously? We're having this conversation again about your mother knowing you and when you're full of bull? Just stop."
"You are the worst, Mom. I shouldn't even bother calling since you know everything anyway." I jabbed back.
"You're play fighting with me again. It's about damn time, boy!" She choked up all of a sudden.
"What do you mean? Are you okay?" I gentled my voice, worried about what was going on.
"I'm just so glad my baby is back. You were so sad for so long, you lost all your joy for life. You'd really fight with me instead of joking back and forth like now. I'm just so happy, love." She sniffled into the phone as she fought her tears.
I felt like crying too. I was relieved and I hadn't even realized how much. Things had been changing and it was because of Deen. It was how he treated me. How he looked at me and how he touched me. It was how he made me feel.
"His name is Deen, Mom. And yes, I'm spending the weekend with him. He's a really great guy. He treats me incredibly." I fought the urge to compare him to Glenn to my mom. I needed to stop doing that even to myself.
She went on and on and assumed way too much, as moms do. I actually felt happier after sharing some things about Deen and my feelings with her. It was a good thing to be sharing and that scared me all over again.
That night after Deen and I had some dinner, we lay on the bed watching TV and chatting. My fears about this not lasting reared up and before I could stamp them back down, Deen sensed something was up.
"Where'd you go just now?" He was always so gentle when he asked anything that could lead to talking about my dead husband and my messed up feelings.
"This feels too good to be true." I couldn't explain it any better though. Not out loud. Not yet.
"Well, get used to it, because it is real." He smiled down at me.
"Yeah, but for how long?" Weeks? Months? This burning attraction and desperate desire to be near him couldn't last.
"For as long as we want. I really love being with you, Blake. I thought you were feeling the same way." He didn't sound hurt, just calm which anchored me.
"I am. But I've never felt this electricity with anyone. It's so amazing, but it can't last. I'm afraid of when the spark goes out." I answered honestly and cast my gaze down, hiding my eyes.
"I've never felt it either, honey. But who says it can't last? Don't we get some say in that? I think it will last. I feel it so strongly, it feels right and real to me." His eyes were filled with feeling and softness.
"I want it to last, too." I looked into his eyes, searching for the answer.
"Then we'll work together to make it last. Look at us. We can accomplish anything we set our minds to. I have no doubts about that. I have no doubts about us, or about you, Blake."
My doubts about Deen melted away more and more as each day went by. I was holding on with just my fingernails now, nearly ready to let go and just fall. I was falling and I was tired of fighting it.
I still had it flash in my mind that it had only been nine months since Glenn died. He'd been my everything for years. I grappled with the thought that even though he was my everything for that time, was he everything I deserved? Did I deserve more? I sure wanted more.
Deen was waiting. So patiently. He waited while I sorted it out, every hour, every day, one at a time. He never pushed or rushed. He supported and he cared. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
Deen held me while my mind worked through my feelings. I fought with my preconceived ideas. I tried to hear my mom's voice in my head telling me I was worthy of finding real love. Maybe for the first time.
I tried to remember that just because Glenn wasn't quite the man I tried to revere, that I tried to mourn with my whole being, he was a good man and he'd been good to me. He'd been good for me. For a time. And then that time had ended.
I was lucky enough to find something different, something incredible, right after my loss. Maybe Glenn had sent him for me. I thought about fate.
"Do you believe in destiny?" I asked it out loud before I had a chance to overthink it.
"I don't practice, but Muslims believe in divine destiny. Yes, I believe in destiny."
I looked into his eyes. The color of brown was so rich and mesmerizing. I could stare into those depths forever. I wanted to. Was this my destiny?
"I don't know if I believed it for most of my life. But now it seems real to me. Is that weird?"
Deen smiled at me again, making my heart skip a beat. "It's not weird. I think you start to understand destiny once you start to feel it in your own life. Are you feeling your destiny lately?" He smirked, but I heard the slight caution in the question.
"Yes, I am. It scares the crap out of me. The timing and the completely different path than I expected has caught me off guard." I answered honestly without telling him about my struggles to accept him and being with him.
"Fate is like that. It catches you by surprise and throws you for a loop. Do you want to fight it or go with it or somewhere in between?" He asked another vague question that was actually a very particular question again.
"The old me would have fought it, tried to negotiate with it." That was totally true.
"And the new you? How do you feel about it now?"
I looked at Deen again. I really looked at him. I saw the few white hairs in his mustache and beard. I saw the smile lines around his eyes. His thick, shiny black lashes were glistening in the low light of the hotel room. He was so beautiful to me now.
I didn't see the muscle bear leather daddy I'd seen at the bar. He was a totally different person to me now that I knew him. Now that I loved him.
"I don't want to fight my destiny. I want to accept my fate. I want to be happy. You make me happy, Deen." I felt the tears starting to gather in my eyes.
"You make me happy too. The kind of happiness I never knew I could feel but I always wanted. It feels like destiny to me."
I reached for him and he leaned in and kissed me so sweetly. It turned more passionate, but still gentle. It felt perfect.
Before I realized it, I whispered against his lips. "I love you." I didn't even freak out after it was said.
"I love you, Blake. I love you so much it scares me." Deen pulled back so he could see my face.
"Me too. I'm scared but I don't care anymore. I just want to love you."
"Then love me, honey. I'm going to love you back. I promise you."
We lay on the bed together and kissed and shared our words of love to one another for a time. It slowly turned hotter and hotter until Deen was peeling away my clothes and then his own.
Soon we were both naked but still attached at the lips, unwilling to stop kissing. I needed this emotional connection with him like it was air or water or food. It was essential to life.
Deen moved behind me and pulled me up against him. His hand found my crack and explored along the crevice. He pushed a large finger into me and started to stretch me open. I could feel his massive cock against my bare cheeks and I wanted him inside me as much as he wanted to be inside me.
"I'm going to love you, Blake. The way you deserve to be loved." I felt his slippery manhood push into me and I gasped. I moaned in pleasure as he pushed further in.
I arched my body so my ass was tilted just right for him to thrust into me. He gripped me tightly as his hips started to move. Our needful bodies lay side by side, spooning, with him taking me from behind.
His strokes were slow and steady. He held me close and told me how much he loved me and how good it felt to be inside me. I answered with my soft moans and words of love and encouragement.
I realized that the goal of this coupling wasn't our climaxes. The goal was sharing our bodies and souls. This was real love making. I focused on how perfectly we fit together and how much I wanted him to have everything he needed from me. I know he did the same. I could feel it.
"I love you, Blake!" He was panting softly behind me as his hips moved steadily, filling me again and again.
"Yes, Deen! I love you!" My words grew frantic as his hand closed over mine on my erection. He and I stroked my length together, my pleasure floating higher and higher.
I felt my body release just as his big body went rigid behind me. I felt his hips push against me, the curly hair all around his manhood and lower abdomen tickled my sensitive skin as he started to fill me.
He held me close for a long time, our bodies joined as our breathing slowed back to normal. I pushed back into him as much as I could. I never wanted to separate from him.
Several hours later we cuddled under the covers with something on the TV that neither of us were really paying attention to. Deen's large fingers trailed over my skin under the blankets, exploring, touching, learning my every curve and edge.
I slowly touched every inch of his big body, feeling the hard muscles under the furry, warm skin. His body hair was soft as I trailed my fingertips through it. Even in a relaxed state, all his muscles bulged with strength. The muscles I used to find so strange now seemed perfect to me. Deen was perfect to me.
The rest of the weekend passed in our euphoric bliss filled with words of love and acts of passion. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It was wonderful.
By the time Monday came, we were both so reluctant to leave each other's sides. But we dressed and left for work, promising to see one another again that night.
I stopped at home a few times that week, but I spent every night with Deen. I looked forward to Friday night all day. I wouldn't have to leave his side for several days and I couldn't wait.
Deen was particularly happy on Friday when he and I both arrived back at the suite. He held me close and kissed me with utter abandon.
"Come, sit with me, honey." He held my hand and led me to the couch.
"You seem happier than usual. What's going on?" I asked him as we sat down next to each other.
"My contractor finished up the main construction and repairs. It's time to pick the finishes." His smile was so big. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.
"That's the best part! You must be so excited." I fell into the happiness with him.
"I am. I want you to go see the house with me tomorrow."
"I'm excited to see it. I know you've been so ready to move back in."
"Blake, I want you to help me pick out everything. And I want you to move in with me." He paused and watched my reaction. "I know your lease is almost up and you still haven't found a place. Move in and if you decide you still want your own place, you can look without a tight deadline."
I pondered his words for a second. I had two months left on my lease. I still hadn't found anything and truthfully, I'd pushed it out of my mind lately. I just hadn't wanted to keep looking in vain. I was here all the time. I wanted to be here all the time.
"I may still look at houses, but I do want to stay with you. You won't be upset if I decide to get my own place?" I had planned on buying my own house for so long, it was hard to let go of the idea.
"Of course not. All I want is for you to be happy and to stay in your life." He smiled brightly and I could tell he was being open and honest. I still think he hoped that moving in would be permanent, but he'd never push this issue.
"You better stay in my life. I've grown quite attached. I'm pretty sure I can't sleep without you any more." I confessed my truest thoughts.
"Good. I can't sleep without you either. I never thought I'd share my bed, after so many years alone. I always thought that if I found someone, I'd still want my own space to sleep, even if it was just on one side of a big bed. But now........now I need to touch you at all times when I sleep. I love having you in my arms."
In the morning we got breakfast sandwiches and coffee and headed over to his house. I recognized the neighborhood as the one I'd looked at a house in, but couldn't afford. I knew the style of the houses around here and I loved them.
It was an established, old money infused neighborhood. The houses were mostly Tudors and Colonials. Everything was very traditional and well cared for. The landscaping was all professionally done and the biggest houses sat back on the properties, shielded from view by mature trees.
I saw the dumpster in the driveway of the house before he pointed it out. He looked so proud as we pulled up behind the giant metal container full of old construction materials. He took my hand and led me to the massive front door.
Deen's house was a stone Tudor with turrets and very traditional black and white plaster and wood details. It could have been a sixteenth century manor house in England.
He opened the door and I was pleasantly surprised to see that so much of the original charm was still intact. The staircase and light fixtures dated to the early 1920's when the house was built. He was very pleased to have preserved it all.
The kitchen had been redone in the 1980's and had been dated and horrible according to Deen. He'd had the "updated" bathrooms and kitchen completely torn out and he'd updated all the plumbing, HVAC and had all the original stained glass windows refurbished and protected with modern, nearly invisible storm windows.
