Cheyenne 1 The Art of Hooking Up
I don’t mind art openings. In fact I rather enjoy them. They keep me out of trouble, and with my new business the networking is a must for continued success. I was perusing an amazing abstract when she slid into my peripheral vision. I could feel electricity the moment she walked into the room. She was stunning, and the way she moved put me in the mind of eternity. I had to shake myself. Whenever I started waxing poetic, I knew I was headed for trouble.
“I came out to enjoy art.” I kept repeating the mantra.
I changed direction purposely walking in a different direction; in an attempt to avoid the gravitational pull beautiful women had on me. I focused on the artwork with all its vibrant colors, energy and powerful messages. While distracted by a piece I could see clearly hanging in my office. I inhaled a fragrance so gentle it made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle. I felt her presence. Where the fuck was my mantra?
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Her voice butter and I didn't have to turn around to know exactly who was speaking. I didn’t know her name. I had never heard her voice before, but I knew it was her.
"It is." I chanced a glance at her. She was more beautiful close up. I bit my lip out of habit. I closed my eyes for a second to remind myself to be good. “I came for the art!” the mantra still playing in my brain. I must have looked crazy. When I opened my eyes she was looking at me quizzically.
"I know you! Where have we met before?" She asked stepping closer to me. Instinctively I stepped back. My mantra was fading and I forgot what I wasn't supposed to be doing.
"I would not have forgotten you if we'd met before." I extended my hand, "Chy, short for Cheyenne." She shook my hand and held on to it stepping closer to me. I held my ground.
"No, I know we've met before." She was looking at me so intensely I felt she could see right through me. "I'm Lenore." She continued to hold onto my hand slowly closing the distance between us. When she spoke next we were so close I could feel her breath on my skin. "I'll remember where we've met before, Chy." My name sounded lovely coming from her lips.
"We keep holding hands like this and people are going to think we're together." I joked. She held on tighter. Not a straight girl, shit.
"Are you here alone?" She asked her eyes so deep I wanted to fall into them. I pushed the thought away as quickly as it came.
"I'm standing here with you." I said returning her gaze every nerve in my body on fire. I was flat out flirting now, and seriously reconsidering the virtues of art openings.
She smiled, "I'm aware of that." She said and moved closer. I could feel the rise and fall of her breast she was standing so close. "What I meant was,” she looked up at me, “did you come here with someone, like a girlfriend?" her tongue playing with the words.
I laughed, "Or a boyfriend?" I offered up half-heartedly. She smiled and leaned towards my ear her breast touching mine.
"Boyfriend?" Her voice in my ear sent waves of wanting through me. "No. Your body's not built for them," her other hand touching my thigh, “and I'd be willing to bet, that there is nothing shy about you Chy." She brushed a kiss across my cheek as she stepped back. I closed my eyes.
The urge to kiss her at that moment threatened to get the best of me. When I re-opened my eyes, she was closer than should be allowed while still dressed. I shook the vision of her sprawled across my bed from my head reminding myself again, of what? I remembered there was a mantra. We exchanged another look. She released my hand and brushed her body against mine as she walked out of the gallery.
Hell yes, I followed.