Kiss of Stoneby JDCLANDICE / Fantasy / Romance & Love
KISS OF STONE
J D CLANDICE
He had to be male.
The eyes were not unlike the gray-blue ones of a wolf. He seemed…vampiric.
He walked up to Samosa with a seductive smile on his face. Long, black curly hair bounced against his pale white skin and was clad in tight black leather pants and jacket. Up close, Samosa could see there were some male features: a strong jaw and all male rippling abs that stretched days down to his lower region.
“I’m Lex,” he said.
He pierced his tongue, a very long tongue- much like a snake’s and took Samosa’s face in his hands.
“What do you think I am?” He asked.
“I thought you were a girl for a minute there.”
He threw back his head and laughed, revealing a prominent Adam’s Apple. “I can take you to a room and prove to you I am far from a girl. And more than a man.”
“N-no thanks. I believe you.” Samosa smiled and Lex not only placed his tongue on hers; he did what the others did not do. He sealed their lips together in a most passionate way, holding their kiss and bringing her toes to a curl.
The buzz that began earlier took her on flight with that last kiss.
She finally felt weightless.
Kiss of Stone
Copyright 2017 J D Clandice
All rights reserved
Cover Design by Erica Jean Smith using Canva
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
First, thanks and praises go to my Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus. Secondly, heartfelt thanks to my readers who have downloaded the short book, Book 1: Mark of Fortune when it was available.
You are the reason for my zeal to write.
Part 1: Falling for a Genie
Part 2: Elope With the Night
About the Author and Bonus
Her gaze penetrated the lecturer. She wrote only what she thought she needed to and would prick the side of her full lips with the end of her yellow #2 pencil. She would sigh and write more down on her notepad while the rest of the students used e-tablets and net books. Stone licked his lips and looked at the clock: 2:15. The group of community college students rose in unison, talking and whipping out their car keys. Time to go.
He went over to the woman who was still writing something down in her notebook. The pencil’s pointed lead pecked and twirled the paper hard, as if the woman was punching the paper with the writing utensil.
He said “excuse me” once. She continued her scribbles, hands the color of brown Earth, hair swept into a ponytail. “Excuse me,” he said for a second time, this time touching her shoulder.
“What.” Her throaty statement was hard and devoid of emotion.
“I’m your classmate, Stone.”
The woman let her pencil fall and for the first time let her eyes move from the poor stabbed notepaper to Stone’s face. He’d never seen her color eyes before. Like melting gold.
He must have stared too long because she raised a finely shaped eyebrow at him before snapping up her books and tucking her pencil in the upper fold of her right ear.
“Do I know you? Do you need something?” She looked at him warily. Normally a female would be swooning over him- happy he gave them some kind attention.
“I notice you, uh,” he fished for some kind of truth. “You leave later than most. You don’t drive?”
The woman made a pained look with her gold eyes before answering. “No. I don’t.” She moved around the small desk. Stone caught the scent of some floral scented lotion, like rose petals.
“I can take you home. I mean, if you don’t mind riding with a stranger.”
She raised an eyebrow again. I’m shooting in the dark here. If I can’t reach her then-
“The last time I rode with a stranger, I married him and he promptly dish ragged me in three years.” She gave a sarcastic smile. “I’m not a repeat offender.”
She left the classroom in a hurry. Stone gathered she would be at the nearest bus stop for college students to wait for their bus transfers.
He spotted her sitting on a graffiti stained wood bench beneath a canopy of trees. Her hips spread out like smooth butter-her blue jeans filled to bursting. Her red top was small however to fit her even smaller bosom.
“The buses will be very late,” Stone said.
“How do you know?” The woman moved so the elderly man next to her could sit. His cane had the head of a cobra on the end, it was bronze, and the sun glinted off of it, casting a shaded gold circle in the middle of the woman’s forehead.
If he told her all of his secrets now, she would call him psycho. “I overheard some students talking.”
She narrowed her eyes to slits, suspicious. “Well, I’ll go into the cafeteria to wait.”
“I don’t know your name.”
“I can give you mine” someone said. The woman and Stone both saw a brunette with long legs and sparkling pink eye shadow. Stone cast a fleeting glance at Pink Eye Shadow Girl before asking his classmate’s name again.
“You know my name.”
“Your real name. The professor calls you Sam.”
Stone felt his smile grow. “With a name like that, I can give you a lift and buy you a drink.”
Samosa looked to the left at what Stone assumed to be some Disney Channel castaway teen girl.
“I’m not sure.” She shook her head.
Stone stuck out his hand. “I’m on my way to Wire Wings.”
Samosa crinkled her face, but took his hand. Stone’s hands were the color of Egyptian sand.
“I have not been there in while.” She stood up. The Pink Eye Shadow Girl made no qualms about smacking her lips out loud.
Stone let her hand lay in his, he was careful not to curl his hand around hers. A woman with emotional scarring was dangerous water to tread. Samosa handed him her two books and purple notebook and let him walk her to his car. He was shocked she let it go this far….did she have something important to do at home? He held the door open for her. She smiled, said a barely audible “thank you” and slid inside.
If Stone could gaze forever into her eyes, he would. Instead, he settled for getting into his silver 2012 Elantra and turning on the AC, happy to have her close to him.
“ What’s your major?” He asked her as they pulled away from the school zone.
“Liberal Arts. I’m just not so sure what I’m going to do with it yet.”
“There’s time. Usually you wouldn’t know until after graduation or if you transfer to a university.”
“I let time slip away. I’m too old for time.”
Stone coughed. He had just sailed through a red light and quickly caught another one. He looked at her profile. Smooth skin, slightly chubby cheeks and eyes which lit with a fire he had not seen in years.
“You’re kidding. How old do you think you are?”
She laughed bitterly. “I feel eighty five, but I’m really only thirty.” She cut her eye at him. “Minus the flirty part.”
“You are beautifully young,” he smiled and floored the car through the next exit to Wire Wings. “Wire Wings- the only place to grab a laptop and wireless service while your fingers are wet with BBQ.”
“Now I remember the slogan: Catch the net, grab a chick. Wire Wings.” Samosa drummed her fingers on the side of his car. “Corny but I love chicken. As you can see I adore eating. Period.”
Stone surmised that Samosa might weigh at least 150 or 155 at the most. She was truly very wide in the hips-super curvy; but it gave her a spicy flair she obviously was not aware of.
“Here we are,” he announced once they arrived to the restaurant where a waving banner on top of the roof featured a large, scrumptious picture of red chicken and floating forks suspended from a laptop.
Samosa wrapped her arms around herself. “You really didn’t have to take me here. I don’t have any money.”
“It’s alright. We’re classmates, colleagues. You need a way home and I need to eat so let’s kill two birds with a…chicken.”
“Alright.” Samosa let him open the door for her.”Just don’t tell any more corny jokes.” She reminded him of a scared rabbit placed in a sea of dogs and foxes. Her eyes grew large.
She is really afraid of people. Stone opened the door for her and the blast of cool air chilled them both. It was dark inside, but each table was dimly lit with an oriental decorated lamp suspended from the ceilings.
They picked a booth by the window. There were no waiters here, only cashiers and cooks. “What would you like? I think the menus are tucked in here,” Stone plucked a glossy menu from behind the napkin dispenser. Samosa took it from him.
“I’ll take the wing basket with a salad on the side.” She put the menu back.
“Drink?” He offered.
Stone went up to the counter and told the red haired teen their orders. Stone really didn’t have to eat. It wasn’t a must, but to humor the society around him he would feast anyway. Bon Appetite.
When he got back to Samosa, he saw that she had taken off her jacket. She was lightly fingering the edge of the table.
“You never told me your major.” She said tapping the top of the table.
“Wow. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a future teacher.” Samosa surprised him by looking him directly in his eyes.
“Oh. I know lots of stuff. Might as well teach it.” He said. He knew too much.
“I wanted to be a teacher once,” Samosa spoke through his thoughts. Her voice was no longer hoarse and tainted with malice. She seemed…comfortable.
“What happened?” Stone was sorry he asked for she dipped her head back down again and he missed those eyes. Those lips.
“I had dreams once. Some of them I destroyed all my own. The rest was because of a poor choice tangled up with a guy who just-” She shook her head. A drop of water hit the table. Tears. Then another. Stone grabbed napkins and handed them to her.
“It’s okay. Don’t speak of that anymore.” He watched her dab at the corners of her eyes.
He heard their order number called and went up to grab the two baskets of wings and their large drinks tucked under both his arms.
A number of nearby college students began to pour in. The Pop/Rock station played funkier tunes that the younger crowd knew every word to. Samosa blinked at them as if she were an alien and landed on the exactly wrong planet.
“I take it pop music is not your cup of tea.” Stone said, setting the drinks down.
She pulled the meat off the chicken bone with her teeth. Chewed. Swallowed. “Nah. I like 90s music better. It holds a bit more meaning and memory for me.”
Stone liked that. “Meaning and memory huh? That’s what art does to me.”
Samosa sipped her drink. Her golden eyes wide with understanding. Stone knew then that they shared an “artsy” connection. “Right”
He ate his food, afraid she would notice he didn’t touch a thing. Watching this woman eat was amazing though. She massacred her chicken with gentle licking first, and then she would chomp down on all the edible parts. Spat out the bones.
She did this until her basket was done. When she reached for her drink, Stone was embarrassed his meal was still unfinished.
“You must be watching your figure.” She said.
“I guess the breakfast I had earlier was bigger than I thought.” He took up their baskets, dumped hers in the trash and got a doggie bag for his. “Want to sit and chill a minute?”
“I’m not sure that’s best. I really need to leave. And I appreciate your spending the money too. I’ll pay you back.”
“Why bother? I offered.”
“I understand that, but I have to do what is right.”
Stone touched her hand. He felt that sizzle, like touching something after rubbing your feet along the carpet too long. It was static. It pinged to his heart and other regions. She must have felt it too and pulled her hand away.
“You cannot do what is right without money, Samosa. Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.” Stone led her through the throng of people streaming internet over the wires and plugging in their millions of gadgets. He understood why Samosa decided to write in a notebook. You needed batteries or USB ports now just to do simple things.
“Why is your name Samosa?” He asked her once they were in the car and on the road again. She looked far away in thought, her arms hung by her sides. “My father’s name was Sam. Mom’s name is Rosa. Samosa.”
“Ah.” He asked her where she lived and she gave him the directions, naming something called Serenity Hope.
The afternoon sun waned and turned the sky a pinkish hue. Bugs began to chirp and sing and many of them caught their death against Stone’s windshield. Their bodies smacked hard against the glass.
He noticed that Samosa was still not as chatty, which was good because it meant she said something of substance to those she communicated with.
“You don’t look like you’re from here. Your accent isn’t American, French, or Spanish. In fact I never heard it before.”
Surprise number two. But he was prepared to give a semi honest answer.
“I lived all over,” he said. “Literally. Ever since I was a small child.” Stone winced when he thought of his painful past. Now it was his turn to clam up over bad memories. A million bad memories.
“If you don’t wish to talk about it, I totally understand.”
“Thank you.” Stone turned into the parking lot of what looked like a simple brick textured church with a white cross on top and a smaller brick building adjacent to it. She’s homeless. And she is in school.
“This is it. You can park by the bench over there. It’s my reading slash study spot.” Samosa had her hand on the handle, Stone pressed his hand over hers, stopping her movement of getting out.
“You have your things in there?” He pointed to the church where several people were lining up to get inside.
Samosa bit her bottom lip and looked down. “My things were stolen this morning. Math book and math folder, toothbrush. My whole bag.” She pushed herself out of the car.
This was the moment- the moment he could tell her the truth; the moment that he should tell her that since birth she had something so special marked on her that it would make all of her dreams come true.
He watched her solid form enter the long thread of people. Some wore tattered clothes. The others had on expensive looking attire- but maybe that was all they had. He could even smell well seasoned tomato soup and warm bread.
Stone got out of his car and leaned against the door. His eyes still trained on Samosa. Like a sniper with the red light beading on a potential victim. She was slightly shorter than most people and the only thing which stood out from her were those honey-gold eyes and those cleverly shaped hips of hers.
She was not a movie star darling, or airbrushed to look unreal. In fact, to most she was just a plain woman attending community college. A divorcee.
Stone didn’t know how long he stood there watching her. He knew it had to be well past four now. The sun was low, but it was a very warm Spring. He looked past the building and saw many trees lining the area to the far left of the shelter. There were office buildings off to the right. One thing he knew though: Those office buildings were occupied by those not leaving their jobs.
So the shelters stay packed.
“There’s no room.” Samosa came up alongside him. “I have nowhere else to go.”
“Come with me.” Stone offered to her. Trying to keep from smiling.
“It’s sort of your fault for keeping me out late.”
“You had a choice. Besides you think I’m going to feed you and leave you outside in the dark?” Stone waved his hand over the car. “Go on, get inside.”
Samosa eyed him in a strange way. The way she stared moved something inside of him. She shook her head and sighed. “Fine.”
“Did you need to get anything? Like an overnight bag, toothbrush, some pencils or something?” Stone was unsure as to all she would need.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Samosa fired at him. The rage from earlier has returned.
“I will tell you why once we get you squared away.” Stone had to keep things going in his favor.
“Alright. If you can somehow purchase me a new math textbook and a three pronged folder,” she held out three fingers and pointed to each one with her left index finger. “Find me a new bag, and a whole bunch of other stuff that was taken from me today I will be nice.”
Samosa topped it all off with a smile that could have broken a storm for sunshine.
“Deal.” Stone drove down Coliseum Drive and made a left, keeping straight until the turnoff at Walmart. Samosa waited until he came around to open the door for her, she thanked him and they both went inside the supercenter.
She picked out a book bag with enough deep pockets to carry her soap and toothbrush and she picked up a few washcloths and some pearlescent peach colored lotion.
Next, Stone watched her gather some notepads, notebooks and pencils and pens. Finally he grabbed up some soup and bread.
When they got into the self checkout line, Stone pulled out his credit card, swiped and helped with her bags. He saw how she watched him through narrow eyes. Perhaps she was careful because nice guys could be murderers, rapists, con artists.
He was neither.
Although she should still be careful…
“Ready?” He carried all of their bags, not wanting her to strain herself at all.
Once he popped the trunk and put everything inside of it and closed it. Samosa tapped him on the shoulder.
“You are,” she began slowly shaking her head, eyes wide in disbelief. “The kindest person on the planet right now. I never-“He saw her eyes water up and she promptly went to the passenger side and got into the car.
Stone looked around him. People were everywhere. Shopping. Carrying babies. Playing with their siblings. It seemed that even though they had bad times, all Samosa would see are their good times.
Her time would come soon enough, if only she would let her guard down a little more. Stone got into his car and they drove in silence. Samosa’s thoughts were so loud he shivered. Not that he was a mind reader. He knew of one, but he could tell by her body language, her scent, the few words she did speak, that she would be a tough shell to crack and has been damaged beyond repair.
He knew her breath would be taken away after the hour drive, only to be standing in front of his massive home.
“You live here?” She asked very surprised.
“Yeah. It’s okay,” he smiled at her and took the bags from the trunk. He hit the car alarm from his keychain and did a quick intake of air through his nostrils. He had to do this for safety reasons. To scope out enemies.
They walked up the circular driveway which was neatly paved but well lighted. The garden smell of the ground was fresh, even the stairs had been cleaned.
“I don’t understand. What is it that you do to get a place like this? Why are you in college at all?” Samosa asked while he waved a hand over the bio-scan beside the door. It opened immediately and the fresh aroma of potpourri greeted them, along with his Golden Retriever Sugar Rocks.
The dog woofed, and pounced, landing his paws on the front of Samosa’s shirt. Stone was not surprised that she responded well, patting the dog gently on his head.
“What’s his name?” She said rubbing behind the dog’s ears.
Samosa blinked a few times. “Hey Sugar Rocks,” she cooed.
“This is my humble home. I’ll place your bags in one of my guestrooms and we can talk.”