Traci Williams stepped off the curb from between two parked cars on the street opposite her brownstone apartment in Brooklyn when she noticed the yellow cab’s right indicator begin to flash. The driver’s face was obscured behind the reflected glare of the noon day sun bouncing off the windshield. Trying to make eye contact with this driver proved futile. Looking away from the car and scanning the left side of the street for traffic, Traci walked toward her apartment with her keys jangling between her fingers. The space between the two cars suggested that a car had been parked there. She stared up at her apartment on the second floor thinking about her lunch she had left on the kitchen table that morning. Thoughts of her landlord intruded as she wondered if he was home and what he was doing.
“Look out!” Head swiveling back to the right at the screeching of tires and burnt rubber, Traci saw an orange colored jeep wrangler speeding towards her. It clipped the yellow cab and did not stop. The cab came to a sudden stop. Traci took this all in at a glance, but still could not find the will to get out of the street. Her right leg seemed glued to the pavement, actually, it was her whole right side that was frozen. Hoping that the jeep would screech to a stop or go around her, although there did not seem to be much space to go around her, as cars lined both sides of the street, Traci was praying for Divine intervention. Traci’s first thought was that the driver was aiming for the parking spot and she was in his or her way. Parking was a nightmare in the neighborhood with residents sometimes having more than one car per household. Why am I thinking about this? Holding her breath, Traci prayed that the impact would not be too severe. Her heart actually hurt from the rapid beat which knocked against her ribs. Staring death in the face, everything slowed down. Silence filled her ears; her eyes burned and threatened to pop out of their sockets. Her mouth opened and she twisted her upper body with her palms open and out as if to push against the hood of the car.
The impact when it came rushed air from her lungs, and propelled her backwards away from the speeding vehicle. Her shoulder ached from the impact, and she stumbled backwards. The impact was not from steel, but muscle. Her feet shuffled as they tried to keep her upright. Opening her eyes, Traci saw a white wife-beater and dark skin and supple muscles flexing. A woodsy scent filled her nostrils and made her dizzy with an unexplained desire to hold tight. Her black high heeled kid boots knocked against the raised sidewalk, and Traci instinctively grabbed the upper arms of her savior. Muscles flexed again under her grip, and then she was lifted into a fireman’s carry. Her keys fell from her finger even as she tried onto hold them. Bracing her hands on the kind Samaritan’s broad shoulders, Traci looked toward the jeep that seem to chase them onto the sidewalk and into Mrs. Holtz’s manicured hedges. “Moron!” Traci yelled, as she raised one fist in outrage. It was anyone’s guess who she was upset with at the moment, as her A-Line pleated wool skirt flew up by a gust of wind exposing her flesh colored bikini panties. The gentleman muttered something, as he tried to bat the skirt down, but what he ended up doing was spank her several times as he tried to bat it down.
“Stop that!” Looking over her shoulder, Traci asked in her Barbadian accent, “what you doing?” At the sound of scraping metal she returned her gaze to the street, but almost got a mouthful of the hedges when she was spun around. She barely registered that the windows were dark, before the thought tinted windows invaded her mind. Traci inadvertently dug her nails into the tee shirt clad shoulder. It was an unusual warm October day, but not that warm to warrant a tee. The heat coming off her savior though was beginning to not only warm her hands, but also send a tingle to the apex of her thighs where it rested on his hard shoulder blade.
“Hey!” Traci said, and she reared up even more when she began to slide down a hard chest, while the front of her skirt remained in the air. Her taupe colored bikini panties rubbing over his pectoral muscle, then down his rock hard abs. What was he doing? His hands cupped her ass making it difficult to push down her skirt, while he slid her down his body. Twisting and tugging, she tried pushing his hands away from her bum. Her chest bounced against him, and she suspected that the guy was laughing. The pervert! The slow movement forced her to feel every inch of his body. Mortified, she waited until her feet touched the ground before trying to take a big step back. His hands pulled her in close to rub her against the hardness behind his zipper before releasing her. Traci stumbled at the loss of his support. Her hands brushed down her skirt, and fixed her bunched up sweater. Fighting the urge to kick him in the groin, Traci kept her head down, as she tried to gain control over her emotions. Anger was rushing through her at his audacity to rub himself against her in that lewd manner, but she also had the urge to do more than rub against him. Head down with heat scalding her neck and into her cheeks. Thank God you can never tell when a black woman was blushing. She would not give this thug the satisfaction. The fading sound of screeching tires reminded her of the almost near tragedy. Traci’s head swiveled in the direction of the fleeing vehicle, before turning to face the person who saved her when he cleared his throat.
“You okay?” He asked. Traci was not surprised to see it was her landlord Raun Hartman. Her body knew it was him. He was the only man who made her pant like a bitch in heat. Looking up at him, she watched his eyes turn soft as his head lowered. Traci moved up on her tip toes in her boots. At five feet, ten inches she usually towered over men and women without heels, with heels, she felt like a giant. With Raun though, they were the perfect height for each other. She had always dreamed of a man tall enough to allow the appropriate anatomical parts to align. His lips looked wet like he had sucked on them in preparation for a kiss, Traci hoped.
“Get out of my hedges!” A door slammed, as an angry little woman wearing a multicolored striped house dress and fussy red socks with a cloud of white hair approached them. “Honey, it’s alright momma’s gonna fix you up.”
“I’m fine Mrs. Holtz,” smiled Traci turning her head to watch the woman pat the hedges. She harrumph and shooed them away.
“If you wanna make out, you have a big house over there,” she pointed to their residence. “There isn’t any need to destroy my garden.” After saying that, she slammed back into her house. They heard multiple locks being engaged.
“I guess she didn’t see anything,” said Traci.
“She’s always been that way. Only seeing what’s important to her.”
Traci was sure she heard the woman saying through the open window next to the door, “No respect!”
Raun raised his eyebrows as if to say, “see?”
“Are you okay?” Raun asked again in his deep pantie wetting rumble.
“I think so.” Traci whispered. “That guy had to be drunk!”
Moving out of the hedges, she stepped off the side walk and almost twisted her ankle. Traci’s left heel wobbled on the uneven sidewalk, as she tried to stop her knees from shaking. Staring into his dark eyes, she wet her own lips, as she wished they had completed the kiss. Wondering how he would taste and feel she continue to stare at his lips. The way he was making her insides jump, made her questions sound like an attack, “What you doing outside? Don’t you have work?”
He ignored her questions, and attacked with his own. “What were you thinking standing in the street like that? Were you trying to commit suicide?” His eyes became hard, as he waited for her response.
“That guy came outta nowhere. One minute de Street was clear, and de next he was there,” Traci said. She was not sure of any such thing, but what else could she have said, she had a premonition that she was going to die by vehicular manslaughter and thought today was that day? Yeah, he might have her committed into a loony bin. Traci believed in horoscopes, and if they told her that today was the day she was going to be involved in an accident, she believed it. Well, it also told her that she was going to meet the man of her dreams. She did not know if she should believe that because for the last two weeks it kept telling her about a lover, and she was not actively looking.
“Is that the reason you were in the superman stance? What you doing home so early anyway? Is it because of Sandy?”
“No. I—came home for lunch.” Why am I letting this man brow beat me? Is it any of his business why I’m home early? I don’t need to explain myself. Traci did not appreciate the way he was talking to her. It was like he was her father or something. They may live in the same house, but she was a grown woman and did not need some man talking down to her. There was no need for him to start dictating to her. It was her business why she was home early.
“I’ll walk you home before you kill yourself.” He grabbed her hand and forced it through the crook of his elbow and began to pull her along in his wake.
Traci pushed up her mouth and tugged on her arm, but Raun trapped her arm between his arm and his hard waist.
“I’m not a child to be tugged about!” Traci cried, still tugging on her arm.
Off the sidewalk, he looked up and down the street before pulling her to their residence. Traci’s knees were still shaking and she stumbled across the street like a drunken sailor. “What’s wrong with you? Why do women wear such contraptions on their feet?”
“If you would stop rushing me, there wouldn’t be a problem,” said Traci.
Raun let her go, as they reached the short steps leading up to their doors. Without Raun propelling Traci along on her tip toes, Traci stepped on her heel and there followed a cracking noise. The heel snapped off and pitched her off balance. Grabbing at the walled banister, Traci held on for dear life as her heel remained behind. Raun swept her off her feet into his arms like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold. Jogging up the five steps, he waited for Traci to open the door to her upstairs apartment. It was then that she remembered that she did not have her keys. They had fallen from her fingers near one of the cars.
“Well? What you waiting on?” Raun asked puzzled by the delay.
“I dropped my keys.”
“For the love…” He put her to lean against her door before turning around and jogging back towards the opposite side of the street. After searching a few minutes, he bent down and picked up the something. She supposed they were her keys. Traci stared at his tight ass. She felt like spanking it. Where had that thought come from, and what do I know about spanking some guy’s ass? It did look biteable though, hard and high. Maybe he did a lot of squats. Would squats give you a taut bum? She could still remember him swatting her own bum, as he had tried to get her skirt down. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her ass. Holding her bum in his large hands had also made her want to wrap her legs around his waist and rub up and down on him.
Now he was looking at the side of one of the cars involved in the car swipe. Traci could spend all day watching him move, but she had to get back to work, and she had not even eaten her lunch as yet. Thinking of her cooked meal sitting on the table, her stomach grumbled at the delay. She still had to heat it up, and then take it to work. Too much time had passed for her to watch the show she had planned to watch while eating at home. What was the man doing now? “Excuse me? I need my keys!” He was on all fours looking under the car. Traci was sure that her keys did not go under there; at least she hoped they did not. He returned to a standing position before taking long loping strides back to her. The keys jangling in his hand.
“What do I get for returning these?”
“A big thank you and a see you later,” Traci replied with exasperation. She did not want him to know that she found him attractive. God forbid that she did. She did not even know how to kiss. Maybe she should review how to kiss on YouTube. YouTube had everything. Google and YouTube were her go-to websites when she needed to know something. Thank God for them otherwise she would be lost.
“That’s it? Not even a kiss for saving your life.” He smiled and Traci realized that he had dimples. God, fuck it! He was bow legged, tall, lean with muscles and hard abs, dark sexy eyes, and now dimples too? All the attributes she found attractive on a man. Was this the man her horoscope kept telling her about? Traci thought he was way out of her league.
“I’m going to be late. I still need to eat my lunch.”
“How about a rain check?” He held her keys out to her, but still had a firm grip on them.
“Um… sure.” Traci reached for the keys, snatched them out of his hands, ducked her head, and unlocked her door. Looking back at his winking dimples, Traci sighed and entered her apartment, closed the door and leaned against if for a few minutes to calm her racing heart.