A Soul Ensnared

Two

A knock sounded on the door of Sonya's apartment. Moments later, the sound of metal against metal issued a slow, scraping noise as a key slipped into the lock. This was Brent's signature move to let her know that he had arrived, without her worrying that an intruder was on the other side of the door. The small, considerate gesture always brought a smile to Sonya's face.

She also liked the fact that he didn't barge into her apartment like he owned it. Her heart might belong to him, but her apartment did not. They weren't married, at least not yet, and she wasn't about to pretend to play house with a man. Not without a ring sitting prettily on her left hand, or at least the promise of marriage on the horizon.

Months ago, she had given Brent a key, out of not only necessity, but guilt. One evening, work had run late with a future member of the Club. She had been so caught up in explaining the benefits of becoming a member of Bloomfield's that she hadn't noticed the time. She hadn't even thought to pick up a phone, not that one would have been on her at the time. Brent, unfortunately, had sat outside her house for nearly two hours. From that moment on, he had used her spare key in moments of emergency, or on nights that they planned a date. Even though she was adamant about not pretending to be a homemaker, the sound of the key in the lock made her feel like he had come home to her. That feeling of security was like nothing she had ever felt before.

Brent made her feel safe. She reveled in that knowledge.

Sonya smoothed down her hair, looking across the room at a framed oval mirror that hung on the wall. She gave herself a once-over, wanting to be presentable for their anniversary dinner. The image staring back at her revealed straight, black hair, smoky eyeshadow, carefully painted, ruby red lips, and an outfit bought for this very occasion. It was a one-shouldered, angled nude top overlaying a black pencil skirt. Her waist was cinched tight with a wide, black belt. She didn't bother with shoes, preferring to walk barefoot around her apartment. Sometimes, in some ways, stilettos were overrated.

Nodding approval of her appearance, she decided that she looked a sleek sort of sexy—exactly what she preferred.

"Happy Anniversary!" Brent exclaimed as he stepped through the door. He sniffed appreciatively, proclaiming, "It smells amazing in here! What is that Heavenly smell?" Closing the door, he turned with a bright, white smile, looking expectantly toward his beautiful girlfriend. In his hands he carried a bouquet of red and white hybrid roses, along with a very small, wrapped box.

Sonya squealed in delight, rushing over to her handsome man, eager for a welcome kiss. She wrapped her arms around his waist, lifted herself on tip-toes, and tilted her face back in greeting. He responded by thoroughly making her forget anything but him in soft caresses and brushing tongues, until the oven started chiming.

"Oh!" she said when the sound filtered through. She slowly detached herself from the warmth of his arms, murmuring, "Let me go pull out the food to cool down." Taking the flowers from his hand, she sauntered toward the kitchen, and set the bouquet on the countertop. As she did so, she looked over her shoulder and asked, "Did I notice a tiny box? Is that a present for me, as well? I thought we weren't doing anything special for our anniversary!"

Brent walked into the kitchen, watching Sonya pull an iron skillet from the oven and place it on top of the range. She lifted a baking sheet and placed it inside the oven, then turned back to him. "I got you a little something," he said. "It's not much. I can't imagine what would happen if I showed up empty handed." He chuckled at the thought.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she eyed Brent, giving an impish wink. "Well, I may have gotten you a little something, too."

"Wait; open yours first," he said, placing the box on the counter and nudging it in her direction.