| Disastrous Dates, Phone Calls & More Oded Kisses A Continuation into the Journal of Teleah Brockman By Ladybug |
| Okay, so here I am again. Are you tired of me yet? <grin> I tell you now: life with Oded is fun, never a dull moment. But back when we first started seeing each other, I wondered if we’d make it through those first few dates. I already told you how the first date went. It was almost a week later before I got to see him again. He had a busy schedule with appearances and interviews, and I was pretty busy myself, even having to leave town to fly to Florida for a day or two. We talked on the phone every night, and let me tell you, talking to Ded on the phone is something I think everyone should experience. I get shivers just thinking about his voice. Oh boy . . . Another thing is Ded has no sense of time. For example, when I was in Florida and he in California (remember there is a three hour time difference), he called me at my hotel at 2 frickin a.m.! Of course it was only 11:00 p.m. in Santa Monica, but he seemed oblivious to this. “Hello?” I answered the phone groggily. “Hey babe, did I wake you? Kind of early to be going to bed, don’t you think?” Kind of early to be going to bed? “Oded?” “Yeah, it’s me.” I rolled over on my back and groaned after I saw what time it was. “I just got home and needed to hear your voice.” Pause. “You okay?” “Yeah,” I answered as I flung my arm across my eyes and counted to three. I did not want to be angry with him, truthfully I was glad he called. I just wish it had been earlier. “Oded, honey buns…” I began. “Uh oh,” he interrupted. “When ever you call me honey buns, it usually means I’m in trouble.” I laughed then. I’d called him honey buns only one other time. How he learned to associate that term with being in trouble is anybody’s guess, but I guess I had used it in a sarcastic kind of way that first time. Oh well. “You’re not in trouble, Ded, but do you know what time it is here?” I could almost see him looking at his watch, calculating the time difference. “Yeah, it’s what, 8:00 there?” I sighed. 8:00?? “Ded?” “Yeah babe?” “Florida is three hours ahead of California, not behind.” Silence. “Oh shit.” “Yeah.” “Oh babe, I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I knew that, I don’t know what I was thinking.” “It’s okay, Ded.” “No it’s not. I just wanted to talk to you so bad, I just wasn’t thinking.” Now how could I be angry with that? He is just so sweet. “Oded?” “Yeah?” “I miss you too.” He sighed heavily into the phone. “Do you really?” His voice was so soft, and he’d lowered it a few octaves until I was literally melting into the mattress. I groaned, “Oh Ded, don’t do that to me. I can’t come home until day after tomorrow.” “I would come there if I wasn’t tied up here.” “I know, but I’ll be home soon,” I answered. “Not soon enough,” he replied. “Teleah?” “Yeah, Ded?” “I just barely met you,” he said. “Why am I so crazy about you?” I nearly fell off the bed. I was speechless, which is quite an accomplishment. Not many people can claim to leaving me speechless. “I, uh, I don’t know,” I stammered. Why did he do this to me? I never met any man who could keep me so off balanced as Oded could. “I’ll let you go back to sleep.” He sounded a bit deflated. “Oded?” “Yeah?” “I’m crazy about you too.” And I was. Absolutely frickin nuts about him! Couldn’t explain it to save my life, but in the short span of a few days, he had captured my heart. Well, I take that back, I did know. He was a wonderful man, caring, attentive, romantic, polite and not to mention a great kisser and quite the dish to gaze upon. But of course he would deny all of it and proceed to point out all his faults, which just made him so much more sweeter. “You’re not just . . .” “Don’t even go there, buster!” Had to nip that insecurity of his in the bud! He laughed softly, and I knew it was a good thing I was already lying down, cause it rippled through the phone into my ear and did a pogo jig on my spine. “Good night, Teleah. Call me tomorrow night.” “I will, good night, Ded.” I hung up feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, not to mention a bit sexually frustrated. It’s a funny thing about the sex. It would be quite a while before Oded and I would do the dirty deed. Neither one of us ever mentioned it. It was like we both understood that our relationship was about more than that, and we wanted to establish that relationship before rushing into the physical. So for our next date, I decided to cook him dinner. Introduce him to my culinary skills. Made a great impression, too. I had just gotten back from Florida when I told him I’d cook him dinner. He was all for that, said something about missing home cooked meals. I guessed he ate out a lot. The first thing Ded did when I opened the front door was to kiss me. Aaahh, fresh cool mountain stream and believe me, I was thirsty! He tasted so damn fine that I couldn’t seem to get enough. I drank and drank and drank until I felt light headed with it. Something about the way he wrapped his tongue around mine that made my spine turn to jello. Oooookay, yes, I could spend a lot of time on his kisses, but then I’d never finish the story, so . . . “Hi there!” he grinned at me as he pressed his forehead to mine and our noses touched. “Hi back,” I answered breathlessly. Now let me say this, when I had picked him up earlier that week for him to buy me my camera, I had noticed that he was beginning to grow his goatee back. It had filled in a lot more now and OH MY GOD! He is definitely a facial hair man! He’s beautiful either way, but WOW! I raised my hand up to trace my finger across his chin. “I like this.” “Yeah?” “Hmmm, very much so,” I answered, letting my finger flitter across that full bottom lip of his. So much temptation there. He kissed my finger and I sighed, leaning into him. “What else do you like, Teleah?” he whispered into my ear. I could feel his warm breath whisper lightly across my skin, and I shivered. Leaning my head back, I looked up at him and my knees nearly buckled. The look in his dark, expressive eyes made me think of long exotic nights in his arms. Believe me when I tell you that our abstinence was the hardest thing I have ever had to endure!! “You want me to make a list?” I asked. “It could take a while.” He flashed me a megawatt smile that made me sag against him, my knees once again totally useless. I was going to have to get them looked at. I was sure it was some new affliction called Odedtendonitis. “So what’s for dinner?” he asked, suddenly changing the mood. Good thing he did too, cause I was beginning to contemplate how I was going to get him up to my bedroom without rousing suspicion. “Umm.” I licked my lips trying to concentrate. Dinner, what was for dinner? I knew I should know the answer to this question, but the answer was not forth coming. Oded smiled again. “You don’t remember?” That eyebrow rose curiously and my forehead fell to bump against his chest. God, I really needed to get a grip! “I think it has to do with chicken.” He laughed, then I heard him sniffing. “Well, I hate to break this to you, babe, but I think your chicken is burning.” I stiffened. I could smell it now, too, and I groaned as I turn and ran for the kitchen. Sure enough, black smoke was coming out of the oven. “Noooo!” I hurried over and turned off the oven, then grabbed an oven mitt and opened the oven door. After waving off the puff of smoke that burst forth, I saw that the chicken was quite well done. My shoulders slumped as I pulled out the pan and placed the over-cooked bird on the stove, I was so disappointed. Oded came up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. He pulled me back against him and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I’m honored, Teleah. Never has anyone presented me burnt offerings before.” I snorted. Yes, me, Teleah Brockman gave a very unlady like snort. I turned around to face him and saw the twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sorry . . .” He cut me off by shaking his head and placing a long slender finger against my lips. “No apologies,” he answered. He reached down, grabbed my hand and led me out of the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll take you to dinner.” “But-” I started to protest. “No buts, Teleah.” “I wanted to cook you dinner.” He turned and smiled that megawatt smile again. “You just did.” I wanted to laugh, but instead I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “Ooooohh, I’ll get you for that!” “Uh oh,” Oded laughed as I chased him out the front door. So that was disaster date #2. Disaster date #3 came a few days later when we agreed to meet at a restaurant in Pasadena at 7 p.m., since we would be coming from two different directions. Kind of a meet in the middle type of thing. Well, we were supposed to meet at a bar & grill, but I thought it was one place and he thought another, and we both sat in two different bar & grills, wondering what the hell had happened to the other. It was almost 8 p.m. when I finally picked up my cell phone and called him. “T?” “Ded, where are you?” “I’m right here, babe, where are you?” “I’m here.” “I don’t see you,” he stated. “Well I don’t see you either.” I sighed, frustrated. We just seemed to be having the worst luck. “Get up and walk to the front of the restaurant,” he suggested. “All right,” I answered and stood up, making my way to the front. “Honey, I don’t see you.” “Ded?” I asked with sudden dread. “Yeah?” “What restaurant are you at?” “Parkway Bar & Grill.” I groaned loudly. “You’re at a different restaurant, aren’t you?” he asked. “Yes,” I answered. He laughed. “This isn’t funny, Ded. Why do our dates have to be so disastrous?” “They aren’t that bad, Teleah. We always manage to salvage them.” “Well, I’m just a few blocks over. I’ll come to you,” I told him. “Alright, see you in a few.” The rest of the date seemed to go fine, so maybe they weren’t that disastrous. They just seemed to start that way. But when they ended? Oh my! I get to drink from my favorite stream. Kissing Ded has become my favorite pastime. My newest hobby, and like any new hobby, I went at it full steam ahead! And feeling the prickles and scrapes of his goatee against my mouth, my cheek, my throat just added to the enjoyment of my new hobby. Hmmm, this makes me want to go kiss him right now. I think he’s in the living room watching a Lakers game. Heh heh heh, this is Teleah Brockman signing off. Until next time! |
| This story is fiction. The character of Teleah Brockman is of the author's creation and has no connection to Oded Fehr. This is the 3rd installment of the Journals of Teleah Brockman This story is rated PG-13 for some adult content _____________________________________________ |
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