by Nicki

I knew Tony Ramirez a long time ago. He was a PI, and he helped me when some nasty dudes tried to steal a hot computer program I had written, sending two total bastards to jail in the process. They tried to kill me – and he saved my life. He also broke my heart. And now he was sitting across a wide table from me, staring at me with those huge, dark eyes. He looked exactly the same, long luxurious hair – tied back neatly to match his new corporate identity - incredible body, expensive suit and tie, perfect smile. I honestly hated him…

When I first saw him on Monday morning, in the corridor leading to our conference room, I could hardly believe it. “What are you doing here?”

“And hello to you, too, Nicki. I am your new Vice President of Corporate Security. Didn’t you know this?”

“No, I certainly did not!” I snapped. “Believe me, if I had…”

My partner Mike chose that moment to come barreling around the corner, stopping short when he saw us. “Ah, I see you two have met. Now you know my surprise, Nick! Good, come on, let’s get this meeting started.” The two men ushered me into the room and to a seat. My brain was frozen, I couldn’t even think, much less focus on Michael’s introduction and the agenda we had carefully planned the day before.

I managed to get through the topics I needed to lead discussion on, and even take some kind of notes, but I wasn’t really there. Thank God Michael had the bulk of the agenda today. And Tony sat back in his chair, relaxed, charming, responding to the other participants’ questions with his low, musical voice and asking questions of his own. His intent (and Michael’s, as I found out), was to make sure that no one could possibly steal the core programming of the new product we were developing – the one that would put us at the top of the industry.

When the meeting ended, I gathered my papers and cell phone and almost ran from the room. I desperately needed to get away from him, from everyone, and try to think. I was angry with Michael for hiding the decision to hire Tony from me, angry with Tony for being here, angry with myself for reacting so badly to the situation.

He caught up with me just before I got to my office. “Nicki, please wait. We must talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Ramirez, unless you wish to discuss my part of the development project.”

“You know that is not what I wish to talk about. What is wrong? I was so happy to see you - why were you upset when you saw me?”

I stared at him. “How could you even ask me that question? How dare you even be here? I can’t handle this right now!” I moved past him into the office and slammed the door. He called my name once, swore softly and then moved away.

It had been a long time since I’d had an Excedrin lunch, but the bottle came out of the desk drawer now, along with a diet Coke from the refrigerator. Maybe, I thought, if I just get to work, I could deal with everything…I noticed several faxes at the printer, and my email flag was showing on the computer monitor. Well, let’s deal with the faxes first, I thought. There should be something from the patent attorney…

The first fax was neatly typed, on plain paper, no letterhead – all in upper case.

“Hey Bitch! You thought you got rid of me, well you didn’t. I’m here, bitch, and I’m watching you. You’d better watch it – you’re going to pay for what you did.” The second fax and third transmissions were worse. I dropped them to the floor and sat back down, shaking.

The email flag flashed in my eyes, and I moved my hand to the mouse and clicked. Three messages…to my private address, all the same as the faxes lying on the carpet. I put my head down on the desk, dizzy, sick to my stomach. What had happened? These men were supposed to be in jail for years, how had one gotten out, how had he found me? What was I going to do?

I stayed in the office for the rest of the afternoon, telling my assistant Byron that I had a major programming piece to work out and to please make sure I wasn’t disturbed. But I didn’t work. I stared out of the window, or at the papers on the floor. Trying not to cry, not succeeding, trying to think rationally, again not succeeding.

It was past eight o’clock. The staff had long since left, and except for my desk lamp, the only the building’s emergency lights were on. The panic that had faded to numb shock flared again when I heard the office door open.

“Nicki? Are you still here? It is much too late for even one as dedicated as you…” Tony’s voice, trailing off as he came around the desk.

“What is it? Are you ill? Let me help you.”

I jerked back and almost tipped the chair over. “Nothing. Leave me alone! Just go away and leave me alone.”

He didn’t move, watching me. “Something is wrong, and it is not just my presence in this building. Tell me.”

I looked up at him for a minute, then down at the papers on the desk. Before I could move to sweep them into a drawer, into the trash, anywhere, they were in his hand.

“Dios Mio, what is this? Where did you get these? ANSWER me, Nicki!”

All I could do was stare at him, shaking my head. He knelt down in front of me, raising one hand to gently touch my face, not letting me pull away. “Did these come today? What is that message on the monitor? You must tell me what is going on,” he said softly. He quickly scanned the email on the screen and swore.

“It seems that your creep friends are back, Senor Ramirez,” I choked out. “Is that why you took this job? Because they needed your assistance again?”

“Ah, so that is what the first problem is – what do you mean MY friends? Now it is me who asks how dare you!” His eyes glittered with anger, then softened as I began to cry again. “Nicki, please believe me, they were not and are not my friends. I want to help you – when did these arrive?”

“All I know is what you see – the faxes and email messages,” I whispered. “They were here when I got back from the meeting.”

“And you have been sitting here with this all day? Why didn’t you call someone, tell someone? Does Michael know about this?” His hand moved to take one of mine, and he sat back on his heels, watching me.

“NO! No one knows; I wish you didn’t know. I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, yes, I think you definitely do need my assistance,” he said softly. “And there is nothing I want to do more than help you.”

“Why the hell should I trust you? After what you did to me!” I yelled.

His face went still, his eyes darkened. “What did I do to you?”

“You, you, why, don’t you remember?” I sputtered. “You terrorized me, Ramirez, you and those two thugs, I thought I was going to die that night!”

“But you didn’t die, did you Nicki? And why not?” his voice became even softer.

“I don’t know, luck I guess,” I shot back sarcastically.

He reached up and grabbed me, pulling me forward. “You didn’t die because I was there to protect you, didn’t you know it was all an act? I never would have let anything happen to you!”

“Then why did you leave? Why? That was worse than almost dying…” I stopped, horrified.

Chocolate eyes looked at me for a long minute. I wanted to disappear, prayed that this whole day was a nightmare and that I would wake up soon.

“Nicki, this is something we must deal with, but later. For now, you must let me help you. You have to let me help.”

My eyes filled with tears again. How could I? How could I not? There was no one else to turn to.

I had to make a decision – and I knew I could not do this by myself. “What do you want me to do?”

“Let me get you out of here, to a safe place. Then we can make some plans, try to find out what is going on. I am going to print these emails.”

Biting my lip, I thought for a few seconds. I had no choice. “OK. What…”

“Meet me at the back entrance in 10 minutes. Bring any papers you need and your laptop. You won’t be back here for while.” He rose, then papers on the floor and from the printer, and left.

I spent precious minutes trying to decide what I would need for a – oh, God, what in the world would I tell Michael? Stuffing files and printouts into my bag, I thought of various excuses to my partner. Illness in the family? No, he knew my family. Illness for me? No, he would know that was a lie. Overwork? Stress? The need to be somewhere quiet to finish this program might work. He knew that we were having trouble meeting the deadlines for the project.

The stairwell was dim, and I was shaking badly as I walked down to the ground floor. When I opened the door, a black Porsche was sitting, waiting. A far cry from the Harley Sportster I used to ride around on, back in the good old…no, I told myself, don’t even think about that. Tony opened the passenger door and motioned to me to put my gear in the back, alongside his jacket and tie.

“Where are we going?” I asked as the car pulled away.

“My place. It’s safe – no one will know that you are there and you can still communicate with Michael.” I must have moved, flinched, something, because he glanced over at me and added dryly, “don’t worry, querida, I won’t touch you. Not until we have cleared the air.”

Tony’s “place” was a top floor loft, on the top floor of an old building – it was amazingly and eerily like his old apartment, dredging up welcome and unwelcome memories. One obvious missing piece was the chain link cage around the king size mattress in a corner. There was a little more furniture than there used to be, but not much. In another corner, there was a large table, obviously an “office,” with state-of-the art equipment that even I could envy. Several skylights brightened the entire area, and large windows faced the street below. He motioned for me to set my laptop and bag on the work table, and moved to the phone, checking for messages.

I stood quietly, looking around while he made some notes. “You will need some clothes, Nicki – I will go to your house and get whatever you need while you are here. Make a list of items, and give me directions, and I’ll leave shortly . You will be OK alone here? You will be safe, I promise.”

Dismay filled my voice. “How long do you think I will have to stay here? I can’t hide forever! This isn’t going to work.”

“You will be here until I think it is time for you to go home. Until we discover what is behind those messages, there is no where else you can go, niña – think about it!” he snapped. We stared at each other, one angry, the other frightened and wary.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “That was uncalled for. I’m just so scared…”

“I know you are. I am sorry, too. But you will be fine here, see – you can use the table, and my PC, fax, whatever you need. The line is high-speed, and secure, so no one will be able to trace your transmissions back here. Now make that list for me, and I will go…and also pick up something to eat on the way back. Do you still love Chinese food?”

My next sigh was silent – I needed to be cautious, but I also needed this refuge. “I’ll do it right now, you’ll need my keys and the alarm code to get in. And Chinese would be great.”

He took the list, and moved towards the elevator. “I should back in about an hour. Please make yourself at home.” As I listened to the elevator descend, I started to panic a little. How did we know that someone hadn’t followed us? No, stop it, don’t think about it - I unloaded and arranged all my files then wandered around, finally sinking down on a couch facing the windows. Suddenly exhausted, I leaned by head back against the cushions, closing my eyes.

“Nicki? Niña? Open your eyes, it’s time to eat.” Tony’s smoky voice woke me, and I shot up, dizzy and disoriented.

“Wha…oh! What time is it?”

“A little after 10. Are you hungry?” He grinned at me as I turned my head and sniffed – he remembered how much I loved the dumplings I could smell. “Come on, let’s eat – I’m starved.”

I sat down at the table in the kitchen and watched as he laid out various cartons of food. “You brought all my favorites – I can’t believe it!”

“Of course, I remember …Nicki, I have some more bad news, I am sorry to have to tell you this.”

I dropped the chopsticks I had been lifting to my mouth. “Now what? I don’t know if I want to hear this.”

“Someone has broken into your house, an expert job. The alarm wires were bypassed, and, it’s pretty messed up. Your office is…it looks like a storm tore through it. Nicki, do you see? It will be better for you to stay here.”

My stomach lurched again, I stared at him silently. This whole thing was taking on an unreal quality, as if I was sitting watching it happen to someone else.

“You need to eat something, here,” he urged gently, pushing the carton of dumplings towards me.

“I can’t. I’m not hungry anymore. Tony, how can this be happening?”

“I do not know, niña,” he said grimly. “But I intend to find out.”

Appetite totally gone, I pushed back from the table and stood. “I have to apologize again, you brought all this food…I think I just want to lie down, please.”

He also stood up, walking around the table and taking my hand. “Of course, I understand. Look, change your clothes and take the bed – you need to sleep.”

He could feel my hand shaking a little, and gripped it more tightly. “I meant what I said in the car, Nicki. You do not have to be afraid of me, never. I swear this to you.”

“OK…,” I whispered, feeling the pull of those dark eyes even as I wondered if I could believe him. “Thank you, I never even thanked you for this.”

“There is no need to thank me, niña.”

He was true to his word. I slept in the bed; he slept on what must have been an uncomfortable couch. And I did sleep, even though I was convinced that I would lie awake all night – the emotions of the day had exhausted me. I woke only as he was leaving the next morning, dressed for the office.

“You slept, this is good,” he smiled at me as I stretched and gazed up at him. “Do you think you will be able to get some of your work done today?”

I smiled back. “I think so, I am going to try – if I don’t keep busy I will go crazy!”

“I know I do not have to tell you – but I will anyway,” he said. “Don’t answer the telephone, I will email you with whatever information I can gather, don’t open the elevator to anyone – I will let you know when I leave the office. And, niña, please – stay away from the windows. I do not want anyone to know you are here – anyone. OK?”

The following days were strange. I buried myself in my programming efforts during the day, drinking countless cups of tea, not eating, waiting for 5:30 each evening - listening for the sound of the elevator rising. Tony did discover that one of the creeps, a man named Dario D’Angelo, had been paroled from prison a month earlier, but could find no trace of him. His analysis of the fax and email transmissions had all hit dead ends, which told both of us that we were facing a technological genius, as well as a total slime. We knew that D’Angelo had acquired some very special help.

Tony’s emails to me during the day were reassuring to me. I could sense his anger and frustration at not being able to get any information, but he only spoke optimistically, describing his search in detail. He also describing the Michael’s frantic efforts to find me, telling me how worried he was (even though I was in constant electronic contact with him).

Our evenings together were quiet; one of us cooked something, we read, listened to music -- and talked. Never about our previous time together, only of current events, future hopes, like old friends enjoying one another’s company. My barriers, the walls that had taken me so long to build, were beginning to fall, but I held back, still a little afraid of him. Every night, I slept on the large mattress, alone. And every day, I would catch Tony looking at me, those fathomless eyes sending a message I couldn’t interpret.

I finished the main program about a week into my stay with Tony. I was happy, and tired, and could almost forget why I was there. I hadn’t seen Tony that morning, but had talked to him, and was so excited to see him come home, to share my good news. He changed into his favorite white sweater and jeans, and we sat down to the pasta I had prepared. He congratulated me, laughed at my struggle to stay awake, and sent me off to bed early. I must have been asleep for 2 or 3 hours when I was jolted awake by the sound of the elevator, rising from the ground floor.

I turned my head to find Tony, and saw that he was sitting on the floor beside the mattress, his arms cradling his head, unbound hair falling around his face - watching me. “Ssh, niña, don’t move,” he whispered, and started to rise. “Nicki, please, do as I say. Move onto the floor, to the other side of the bed, and stay there. OK?”

I nodded and obeyed him. He moved quietly towards the elevator door, stopping to grab a gun from a cabinet. Stopping at the elevator, he waited, still, silent. After a few minutes, the elevator started its’ slow descent towards the street level.

“Nicki, stay where you are,” he called softly. “I want to make sure that no one left us any presents.” He opened a panel beside the elevator, and reached around to the inside of the shaft, feeling cautiously. “I think it’s all right, but stay put! I’m going to see if I can find out who our visitor was.”

After he left, I waited for a few minutes. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, I crawled over to the window facing the street. As I peeked between the blinds, I began to shake again. Michael was standing there – next to his green Jeep. As I watched, two men moved across the street to him and stood for a minute, talking and gesturing. Then, they all piled into the Jeep and left. Michael! My friend, my partner was responsible for my agony. After all these days of relative peace, I was shattered again. I got up and moved back to the bed, tears flowing .

When Tony returned, that’s where he found me. He sat down beside me, and lifted me up into his arms.

“It’s OK, they’re gone, don’t worry niña,” he murmured against my hair.

“No, you don’t understand, Michael was here, he was with them, he is behind all of this. What am I going to do?”

“Aaah, no, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, I saw him….”

Rocking me gently, he whispered to me, trying to calm me. I stopped crying and hiccuping and looked up at him.

“If it’s Michael behind this, I don’t have a chance. He knows all the secrets.”

“You must not worry, we will stop him, we’ll find some way,” he whispered. “I cannot stand to see you so upset again. Nicki, do you trust me? Please tell me that you do.”

I gazed up at him, biting my lip hesitating, thinking. Could I trust him? He had been nothing but kind to me, I couldn’t believe that this was all a trick. “Yes…yes, I trust you, Tony.”

He bent his head and kissed me, gently, then deeply. I pulled away – “No, Tony, don’t.”

Staring at me, his eyes burning into me, he said softly, “No…no. This ends here.”

“Wha – what?”

“No more games. No more pretending. I want you. I have never wanted anything or anyone as much in my life as I want you.”

I couldn’t answer, I could only stare at him.

“Do you remember, Nicki? Do you? I do. I remember everything. Every kiss, every touch, every time we made love.”

I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me. “I remember your hair, spread out on the pillow. Your eyes, smiling up at me…your mouth, hot and sweet against mine. Do you remember?”

“No, no.”

“Yes. Do you remember? Your skin, so soft…” his hand playing against my throat. “Your hands, unbraiding my hair, playing - you laughing, touching me. Your breast, in my hand, in my mouth,” his hand moving lower to cup me, toying gently with the nipple through my nightshirt. “Your voice crying my name, begging me to enter you. Do you?”

“I can’t listen to this!” I whispered. But I couldn’t stop…

He slowly lifted the nightshirt up and over my head, then pushed me gently back down on the bed, sitting beside me. “Your body against me, beneath me…twisting and turning, moaning…do you remember? I want all of that again, do you?”

As my brain was telling me resist, a small moan came out of my mouth.

“My fingers, playing with you.” His hand moved lower, lower, teasing me. “Do you remember how good it felt? I do, God I do.” He felt my body spasm, and smiled at me. “I think you do remember. Touching you…yes, there?…yes…aah, so warm, so wet…” Bad guys? Michael? Trusting Tony? Everything faded away, lost in a wave of intense pleasure.

His mouth covered mine again, his tongue mimicking the stroke of his fingers. And I slowly began to move against him, my hands reaching to try to remove his sweater. “No, no, not yet. I want you to remember, this is for you, then I will have my turn.” He bent his head, starting to trace the path his hand had taken, kissing the pulse in my throat – nipping and licking my breasts, slowly moving down over my stomach until his tongue joined his fingers, his hair tickling my legs.

Quivering – what a stupid word. Yet, that exactly what I was doing, as one strong hand held me and the other worked magic along with his mouth. All I could hear was my voice, whispering “Tony, Tony…” When he felt the damn quivers intensify, he raised his head and smiled, his eyes dancing. “That is one of the things that I remember best – my Nicki, quietly coming apart in my arms. Help me niña, it’s my turn.”

He rose and stripped off the sweater, then bent down and pulled me up. We both fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, starting to laugh, and finally managed to pull them down and off. I smiled up at him and asked “Am I to return the favor now, sénor?”

“Later, much later on you can do what ever you wish. But now, I want to tell you what else I remember. And show you.” He propelled me back on to the bed, nudging my thighs apart again. “One final time – do you remember? I do. This is what I think about at night, when I cannot sleep.” One hand moved and caught both of mine, raising them above my head. “This is what I remember, corazon.” He moved into me smoothly, his lips finding mine again, tongue once more matching another rhythm. “Being deep inside you, moving slowly, so slowly,” he whispered. “Filling you, feeling you move against me, drawing me into you more, always so slow, the way you love.”

Spanish and English, that sexy voice murmuring against my mouth, “Open your eyes, I want to see what you are feeling, aaah, yes, do that again…” I worked my hands free and touched his face, his neck, glided down his body – his hands playing the same game with mine.

“Always so quiet, I love that – tell me what you feel.” I could only shake my head, watching him. “Lift a little, niña, I want to go deeper.” The dance changed, becoming faster, rougher. Expert hands turned me, guided me, “Yes, si, that’s it, deeper, love, this is so good, hot, I could stay here forever.” And finally, countless orgasms later, I felt him arch against me, burying his head against my neck, and release.

We lay together for a long time, breathing gentled, eyes closed. His hand found mine, and raised it to his lips caressing slowly. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me, smiling slightly.

“What do you feel, Nicki?” he said softly.

I hesitated, suddenly unsure. “I feel…loved.”

“You are, oh how you are.”

Dimly, I heard this noise. It was irritating, a little frightening. What was happening…my eyes opened in a chilly gray dawn, my body tangled in my quilt, the noise becoming the buzzing of the alarm. Dazed, I sat up and looked around, alone, remembering.

A dream, a dream of Tony…finally.

Image courtesy of Janet-Sunshine

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