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She was pouting then with her arms crossed like an upset toddler.
“I want to make sure you’re safe when we get out there, Beauty. So, maybe not today, but soon,” I revealed, watching her deflate.
“I really wanted to go see the turtles and fish.”
“I know, babe, but safety first,” I explained.
Scuba diving was a dangerous sport for a host of different factors. From the pressure of the water, decompression illness, and the possibility of rupturing a lung or an eardrum, caution was required. After spending twenty minutes explaining all this to Tori, she looked overwhelmed.
“How do you feel? Do you still think you’re up for taking the plunge?”
“I mean, how hard could it be? You do it every day.”
“I’ve been doing it for years, Tori. Certain things come second nature to me… But I’ll bring you up to speed. The key thing to remember is to be slow upon ascent and breathe. Never hold your breath underwater with equipment. That’s why you have the breathing equipment. Just… trust your diving instructor.”
Once the scuba store finally opened, we went to pick out a wetsuit to fit her. The task took us at least half an hour. We left the store with a wet and dry suit, though I was skeptical if she’d ever end up using both. I spent the remainder of the morning getting her acclimated to the pool water with all the gear on. We broke at twelve for lunch.
Looking at the way she unashamedly devoured her veggie burger without a care in the world made me light up like fireworks on the fourth of July. I couldn’t stand them loud motherfuckers, but they were nice. I watched as mustard coated the crease on the side of Victoria’s lips and smiled.
I liked her. She was sexy and funny, and she helped me ease up out of my shell. I could be myself with her. The sensation was one I hadn’t experienced in… ever. All of the women I dealt with–there weren’t many– had never brought me to that level of comfort. With others, it was simple. I had hard, long dick. She had wet pussy. We fucked. We came. The end. Not with Beauty, though. I mean, yeah, we had earth-shattering, spine-tingling, mind-blowing sex, but we also had all the other things that made a nigga like me journey down a highway of thoughts.
Themes like
finding forever,
freedom to flourish,
forging a family
and things like vulnerability were at the forefront of my thoughts and feelings. Things I never imagined for myself, much less us sharing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was love. In truth, I didn’t know shit.
“Can’t we do a shallow dive today?” She begged between stuffing her face with fries.
“Tomorrow,” I insisted. “I need to quiz you to make sure that you’re retaining all the information. I want to see you dress in all the gear without assistance and call out each piece of equipment as you put it on.”
“Ugh. Boring.” Victoria tipped her head back and groaned.
“This boring shit will save your life,” I advised sternly while adjusting the dive belt. Victoria gathered the trash left behind from our lunch and tossed it into the takeout bag. “Don’t you have work to finish up at the office, though?”
“I’m telecommuting until I take this famed dive.”
“That’s code for you getting on my nerves until we go diving,” I smirked.
“You love it, though,” she teased, blowing me a kiss.
“I do.” Shamelessly, I smirked as I confessed my addiction.
Victoria
The vestiges of Summer brought cooler evenings as it made way for fall to occupy its place in the forecasted weather. I welcomed the change with pleasure. The summer was scorching my ass alive. As the year crept to a close, my spring show to debut the line I’d created for the upcoming year drew closer.
Spring shows typically took place in late mid to late September or early October. We were just two months shy of our deadline. With that fact prevailing, my work days became longer. With every day that passed, an increasing level of stress was added the closer my team and I got to October.
All the pieces scheduled to be part of the spring line had been sketched out. The next step in the process was to get everything created. So far, my team accomplished twenty-five of the intended designs. We had another fifteen to go.
Maybe I had been too ambitious with the new collection. The complicated experimental designs were inhibiting our progress. The tortoise coat and the airplane trench kept my seamstresses working overtime in the atelier. At present, I was locked in my office making digital adjustments to the two designs. The only visible lights came from two desk lamps. One was affixed to the collection board, shining light on the sketches and swatches attached to them, and another was positioned downward to the sprawled images on my desk.
Everything else in the office was dark, save for my computer screen. Working tirelessly was an understatement. I couldn’t bear the thought of going home yet. Not when my team was burning the midnight oil.