Sugar & Salt by Pavarti K. Tyler Page B

wipes her mouth with a giggle and slides away from Salt.
    “Dad caught us.” He chuckles with a wink, and she can’t contain another giggle.
    He readjusts himself before opening the door. After he gets out, he nods to Henry and holds his hand out to Janice.
    She slips her fingers into his and allows him to help her to her feet.
    The glass facade of his building reveals an elegant, vacant lobby. Leather couches sit stiff and proper in the middle of the room.
    She breezes by Henry and the doorman, her attention fully focused on the man leading her through the cavernous space. Heat radiates off him, pulling her in.
    At the elevator she releases her hold, leans against the wall and crosses her legs. “Let me guess, the penthouse?”
    “Nope, too big. I just have a place on the 9th floor.”
    “Too big? That’s not a complaint one often hears.”
    “Really? I hear it all the time.” He keeps his face slack.
    Janice barks out a laugh, teetering on her heels. She smacks him on the chest with her purse before falling into his arms, laughing. “You are a ridiculous man.”
    “And you came home with me. What does that make you?”
    He leans down to kiss her as the elevator doors open. They tumble inside and he presses the button for his floor.
    She runs her hands up his back, and traces the lines of his shoulders with a sigh. She closes her eyes and lays her cheek on his shoulder blade, stealing a moment of innocent pleasure. How long had it been since she felt happy? She snakes her arms around his middle and breathes him in.
    The elevator announces they have reached their destination, and the doors slide open without the usual shake and rattle of most New York buildings. The hall is dimly lit, and a line of doors spans out before them. Oriental carpeting softens their footfalls as they make their way down the corridor, rounding a small corner to a single door separated from the others. 9-7A is posted above it.
    He fumbles for his keys and drops them.
    “Excited?” she teases.
    “Aren’t you?” He leans down to pick them up, and traces the line of her inner leg with the tip of the key as he stands. He slides the key into the lock and turns it with a soft click.
    Inside, he turns on the lights and reveals a room with a glass wall looking out over Central Park. He begins to kiss her, reaching his hands out to read her curves before kicking the door shut behind them. With reverence, he traces the hemline of her dress, pulling it up until his hands scoop her ass and lift her to him.
    In the entranceway of his apartment, his touch sears her skin, burning the imprint of his fingers onto her flesh. A fiery need lying dormant within her flares to life, and she gives over control, relishing the release.
    He holds her with confidence, supporting her body as her bones melt and liquefy under his command. Without separating his lips from hers, he pushes her against the wall and allows his hardness to stroke against her hip.
    She pushes him away and smiles at the pout threatening to form on his lips. His green eyes spark with intensity and passion as he watches her pull her dress up over her head. She stands before him in a black, lace bra with a matching thong and garter, shivering from the blatant lust in his gaze.
    She turns her back on him, walking further into the dark apartment. Outlines of furniture shape the space, but it’s the wall of glass that calls to her. The freedom it represents is nothing like her loft. She may have luxury, but she still barricades herself against the world, protecting her heart and soul behind layers of concrete and steel.
    To her left, an open door catches her attention. She turns to find Salt still cloaked in darkness by the entrance, watching her with the ferocity of a predator. She moves through the doorway into his bedroom, which is sparsely furnished, the walls bare but for a few framed pieces. Japanese-style prints hang on one wall behind a large chair.
    Still exploring the space, she feels