1. Vines of Passion

We love because it's the only true adventure - Nikki Giovanni

NAOMI

My business back in New York was teetering on the brink of collapse yet, I found myself seeking refuge on the sun-drenched shores of California. Because that’s what I do when things get too hard, I run. The salty breeze of the Pacific Ocean offered a fleeting reprieve from the suffocating weight of responsibility that threatened to drown me back in The Concrete Jungle.

For the past month or so, I wandered the streets of LA, and also lost myself in the rhythm of the waves crashing against the shores of both Malibu and Laguna Beach. But it was in the heart of Napa Valley, amidst the sprawling vineyards of The Thompson Winery, that I finally felt a sense of peace settle over me.

I found myself on the estate by pure chance, lured in by an irresistible Instagram ad for a wine tour that practically begged me to click "purchase." With little hesitation, I tossed my belongings into my rental car and set off for wine country for the next stop on my California adventure.

As the tour unfolded, each winery offering its own unique charm and character, it was the Thompson Winery that left the most lasting impression on me. From the moment I stepped onto the grounds, I was captivated by its beauty—the rolling vineyards, the rustic charm of the tasting room, and the warmth of the Thompson family's hospitality. It was as if I had stumbled upon a place I never knew was my real home.

I drifted away from the group I arrived with, drawn by an irresistible pull to stand alone on the balcony, overlooking the vast expanse of The Thompson Winery. From where I stood, the property sprawled out before me like a patchwork quilt of emerald green vineyards, each row meticulously tended with care and devotion. The late afternoon sun bathed the landscape in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced playfully across the rolling hills.

And as I stood there, sipping on a glass of their finest merlot, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place held a significance beyond its picturesque surroundings. Little did I know, it was the beginning of a journey that would forever change the course of my life.

I took a sip, allowing the rich, full-bodied wine to coat my senses in a myriad of flavors. The taste was exquisite, a perfect harmony of dark berries and subtle spices that lingered on my tongue like a lover's caress.

"Everything okay?" a voice inquired behind me, her tone carrying a softness that instantly put me at ease.

I swiveled around to find Mrs. Thompson standing there, her presence like a gentle breeze amidst the tranquility of the winery. Her voice, rich with warmth and concern, pulled me back from the reverie that had momentarily consumed me.

Mrs. Thompson exuded an effortless grace, her caramel skin glowing with vitality and wisdom earned over decades of nurturing this vineyard alongside her husband. She stood before me, a testament to the adage that "Black don't crack," her sleek Ralph Lauren dress and matching flats a testament to her timeless style.

I cleared my throat, composing myself before meeting her gaze.

"Yes," I replied, a hint of awe lacing my words. "Your estate is simply breathtaking. It must be a dream to wake up to this beauty every day."

"It truly is," Mrs. Thompson agreed, a wistful smile touching her lips. "But as much as we love it here, my husband and I are ready to pass the torch to our son in a couple of years. There's a world beyond these vineyards that we're eager to explore together."

Her candid admission resonated with me, reminding me of the delicate balance between duty and desire, between rootedness and wanderlust.

"I can only imagine the amount of work that goes into maintaining such a place," I remarked, a genuine admiration coloring my words.

Mrs. Thompson chuckled, a melodic sound that echoed across the balcony. "Indeed, it's a labor of love. But tell me, dear, is there something weighing on your mind?"

My gaze drifted back to the panoramic view of the winery grounds, alive with laughter and camaraderie. The fleeting nature of my visit suddenly felt inadequate, a mere glimpse into a world I longed to explore further.

"I wish I could linger here a while longer," I confessed, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "This brief stop on the wine tour feels like just a tease."

With a resigned sigh, I took another sip of the exquisite wine in my glass.

Mrs. Thompson's eyes sparkled with an unexpected glimmer of hope, as if she had just stumbled upon a solution to an unsolvable puzzle.

"This may not work being so last minute but, we actually host a retreat for wine enthusiasts, and our second one for the year starts tomorrow," she began, her voice tinged with excitement.

Instantly, my interest was piqued. A wine retreat? The timing couldn't have been more serendipitous. It felt like the universe was conspiring in my favor, offering me a lifeline just when I needed it most.

"All the spots are filled and rooms are taken, but I could squeeze you in if you have somewhere to stay off the premises and don’t mind driving here every day. Of course, I’ll deduct the cost of room and board," Mrs. Thompson explained, her words laced with generosity and kindness.

"Oh my God, sign me up immediately!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my enthusiasm.

Before I knew it, I found myself in Mrs. Thompson's office, hastily swiping a credit card as if sealing my fate with each keystroke. With a sense of exhilaration coursing through my veins, I rejoined the group at our meeting spot, my mind already buzzing with anticipation.

Returning to The Wave Hotel where I had checked in the night before, I made the impromptu decision to extend my stay for the duration of the retreat. Eager to seize the moment, I headed down to Benny’s Bistro in the lobby for dinner, opting for a seat at the bar. As I scrolled through the PDF link Mrs. Thompson had sent me about the retreat, I muttered some of the itinerary out loud to myself. "Food and wine pairings, the art of winemaking, sensory evaluation..."

While savoring a plate of sumptuous shrimp pasta, it struck me that I hadn't known all the details before signing up for the retreat. Yet, deep down, I felt a sense of certainty that this was exactly where I needed to be.

I wasn’t typically one to go with the flow, but ever since I set foot in California, that's exactly what I'd been doing—embracing new experiences and meeting new people with open arms. I even found myself swapping my usual structured black attire for colorful, flowing dresses, a departure from my usual style. California was working its magic on me, and although I was enjoying the change, I knew it was only temporary. This wine lovers' retreat, however, felt like the perfect way to conclude my "Eat, Pray, (but No Love)" sabbatical.

"We ain't related, are we?"

A deep, velvety voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I turned to find myself face to face with the most enticing man I had ever seen. His skin was a rich, velvety midnight hue, his smile a glimpse of heaven itself. Every inch of him seemed meticulously crafted by God himself, from his perfectly chiseled arms to the coils of his hair, glistening with moisture and precision.

"Not too many of us around here so I have to ask," he continued, his perfect smile widening as he took a seat to my right.

My throat went dry, and I struggled to maintain my composure.

"Highly doubt that. Not from around here," I managed to say, though my attention was inexplicably drawn to him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" he inquired, his gaze warm and curious.

"Just checking out a wine tour," I replied, attempting to regain my composure.

"A connoisseur of wine, are we?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"Something like that." I shot back, finally meeting his gaze with a mixture of intrigue and apprehension.

"I know a thing or two myself," he admitted, his voice low and tantalizing, leaving me eager to uncover more about the man behind those captivating eyes.

Suddenly, the bartender slipped the stranger a glass of something red without a word, a silent acknowledgment that spoke volumes. As he nodded his thanks to the waiter, my curiosity piqued.

"So you’re either a drunk or someone important…maybe a bit of both," I teased, unable to resist the urge to probe.

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the air like thunder on a stormy night, stirring something primal within me.

"You could say I’m a familiar face," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I couldn't help but mock his deep voice, attempting to imitate it as I took another sip of my wine. His laughter only grew deeper and louder, at how ridiculous I was acting. As much as I loved wine, I was a lightweight and already feeling the effects of my one glass.

"So what are you, the Mayor or something?" I quipped mischievously.

"Definitely not, I do know him though. My name is Caleb," he replied, extending a hand towards me.

For a moment, I was at a loss for words, captivated by the sheer magnetism of this man before me. Caleb. The name sounded perfect.

"Lisa," I lied in case he was a serial killer, extending my hand to shake his, my pulse quickening at the touch of his skin against mine.

"Lisa," he repeated, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made my heart race. "Since you love wine so much, tell me about the tour. Find any places worth mentioning?"

His question jolted me back to reality, a stark reminder of the week ahead and the purpose behind my impromptu escape.

"My favorite was actually our last stop on the tour, The Thompson Winery," I shared.

"Really?" he responded, genuine interest coloring his tone.

"Yeah, the sweetest couple owns it. It's so beautiful. I wish I could live there; it looks like something out of a Disney movie," I gushed, my words spilling out with the enthusiasm of a child. "We have wineries in New York, but they don't look like that."

"New York, huh?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. “So that’s where you’re visiting from. So you’re on vacation?”

In that moment, I felt the weight of my circumstances pressing down on me, threatening to crush the fragile facade I had constructed. But instead of revealing the truth—that I was here to escape the chaos of my crumbling life—I simply nodded, my response a hollow echo of the turmoil raging within me.

We then launched into a conversation that flowed effortlessly, as if we had known each other for a lifetime rather than just a few minutes. Each word exchanged felt like a piece of a puzzle slotting into place, creating a portrait of connection and understanding.

It was as if I had reunited with an old friend, someone I had longed to see again, and now that we were finally together, no time had passed at all. Caleb's laughter echoed through the empty restaurant, mingling with my own, filling the space with a warmth and familiarity that I hadn't realized I was craving.

Hours slipped by unnoticed as we delved into a myriad of topics, from the complexities of wine to the wonders of our travels, from passionate debates about movies to the lighthearted sharing of childhood fears. As the night wore on, reality intruded upon our bubble of conversation and camaraderie. Brandon, the bartender, cast us a knowing glance, a silent reminder that as much as he enjoyed the tips, it was time for us to leave.

"Looks like it’s time to get outta here, Lisa," Caleb said, his words punctuating the air with a sense of finality.

But I wasn't ready to go. Not yet. There were still words left unsaid, connections left unexplored, laughter waiting to be shared. In this moment, with Caleb, I felt alive in a way I hadn't in a long time, and the thought of leaving it all behind left a pang of regret in my heart.

"So what else are you trying to get into while you’re in California?" Caleb's question cut through the air, stirring something primal within me.

In that moment, a daring thought flickered through my mind—a spontaneous decision on this journey of self-discovery, the possibility of my first one-night stand with this intriguing stranger.

"You," I blurted out, the word slipping from my lips before I could even process what I was saying.

I should have been embarrassed, should have recoiled at my own audacity. In my normal life, I would never be so bold, never dare to voice such a desire for fear of how I would be perceived. But in this moment, none of that mattered. Here, in this unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers who knew nothing about me, I felt liberated, free to indulge in the reckless abandon of the present.

A devilish smirk appeared on Caleb’s face, and in that moment, I knew I wasn’t alone in feeling the electric chemistry crackling between us. It was real, tangible, and he seemed just as eager to explore it as I was.

“Your place or mine?” he asked, his tone brimming with anticipation and possibility, devoid of judgment.

I bit my lip, weighing my options carefully. The hotel room seemed too risky, a potential trap in case he turned out to be someone other than the charming stranger he appeared to be. But going to his place felt equally daunting.

“We don’t have to—” Caleb started to say, sensing my hesitation.

“No,” I interjected firmly, determined to silence my overthinking. “Your place... but I’ll follow you in my car.”

"Bet," he replied, rising from his chair and extending a hand to help me up from mine. With a quick nod to Brandon, our generous bartender, Caleb settled our tab before leading me out of the restaurant, our fingers intertwined in a silent promise of what was to come.

He walked me to my car, ensuring I was settled in before heading to his own nearby. Within minutes, we arrived at his place, our anticipation mounting with each step. The front door barely closed behind us as we wasted no time in shedding our inhibitions along with our clothes, the air crackled with an electric tension as we kissed so deeply that I could hardly breathe.

In a frenzy of passion and desire, we clung to each other desperately, our lips crashing together as we ripped each others clothes off. Down to my matching black lace set that I silently thanked God I was wearing, he picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and walked us upstairs to his bedroom.

And as we tumbled onto the bed, consumed by the fiery heat of our connection, time seemed to stand still as I straddled him, watching him put the condom on in the dark that he grabbed from his nightstand, eager to feel him.

He barely finished before I hurriedly guided him inside of me, descending down his length, the stretch more painful than I had anticipated. I should have turned the light on to have a look at what he was really working with.

"Ahhh" I let out, feeling flustered as I settled onto his lap.

"Easy there. Take your time, Naomi. I'm not going anywhere," Caleb reassured me, his chuckle mixed with genuine concern.

It had been ages since I allowed anyone to get this close to me, yet here I was, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of desire and connection.

"Damn, no foreplay? Don’t you want me to…" Caleb's voice trailed off, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

"No," I interjected firmly, holding his gaze to convey that I knew exactly what I needed. “I’m ready.” I told him, the wetness between my legs having been there since the first moment I looked at him at the bar.

I had embarked on a journey of healing during this trip, and now it was his turn to play a part.

"Show me how you ride, then," he smirked, his grip tightening on my waist as he reclined, making himself more comfortable.

With a newfound sense of purpose, I began to move, grinding against him as his fingers dug into my waist. It felt like we were two halves of a whole, perfectly aligned in this moment of shared intimacy. But as the intensity of my pleasure grew, faster than I’d anticipated my knees threatened to buckle.

I may have bitten off more than I could handle, especially after so long.

Sensing the shift in my body, Caleb took control, thrusting up into me with a force that sent me reeling, pleasure coursing through every fiber of my being that caused me to scream again as I reached forward.

"Caleb…" I pleaded, my fingers gripping the headboard in a desperate attempt to anchor myself.

"This is what you needed, right?" he panted, his eyes searching mine for answers. “You wanted me, you got me.”

In that moment, as I looked down at him, I saw something terrified me—a depth of understanding, a hunger for more than just physical connection. He was someone who saw beyond the surface and wanted to know the real me, I felt it. And as our bodies moved in perfect harmony, I knew that this shared moment of passion was just the beginning of something deeper, but something real that couldn’t happen.

I just needed him tonight. That’s it. Get yours and go back to your hotel, Naomi.

"God damn, Lisa. You feel so good," he groaned, his words snapping me back to reality.

For a moment, I was ready to unleash my fury, to slap him for calling me some other girl's name, until the realization dawned on me—I was Lisa. Oh, right.

Before I could even let out a chuckle at my own forgetfulness, he reached between us and began circling my clit with his thumb, his other hand playing with a nipple. Soon, a wave of pleasure crashed over me, overwhelming my senses and leaving me gasping for air due to the overstimulation of being pleased so many ways all at once. Each sensation was like a bolt of lightning coursing through my veins, electrifying every nerve ending in my body.

I screamed his name, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, as wave after wave consumed me, each one more intense than the last. It was a sensation unlike anything I had felt in years, leaving me trembling and breathless as tears streamed down my face.

"Just breathe, Lisa. I got you…I got you, baby," Caleb whispered, his words a soothing balm to my shattered senses, his hands guiding me through the tempest of sensations with gentle reassurance.

As I finally collapsed against him, spent and sated, I expected the night to come to an end shortly there after. But Caleb had other plans, his touch igniting a fire within me that refused to be extinguished.

He rolled us over, our connection never wavering. As I lay on my back, he effortlessly positioned my legs over his shoulder with a confident smirk playing on his lips.

"You got a long night ahead of you, Lisa," he murmured, his voice laced with anticipation.

And he was right. Caleb proved to be relentless, our bodies entwined as time seemed transcend itself. At a point while he drilled into me, my legs pushed so far back my knees brushed against my ears, I wondered how I’d gotten here and how insane it was that this was the man I’d chosen to do this for the first time in my life. A man who seemed to have no limits, who had me begging for dear life while he took me to levels of pleasure no other man had.

I had severely underestimated Caleb. The man I had met just hours earlier, with his business casual attire and gentlemanly demeanor, turned out to be a completely different creature behind closed doors. He was a force to be reckoned with in bed—commanding, strong, and unyielding.

Throughout the night, Caleb proved to be an quick study of my body, unlocking pleasures I had never known existed. Each touch, each caress sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume us both. I surrendered myself to him completely, allowing myself to be swept away by the intensity of our connection. Frankly, I had no choice under his touch.

As the night wore on and our passion reached new heights, I found myself experiencing multiple orgasms, each one more intense than the last. The sounds escaping my lips were primal, raw.

Yet, even in the midst of our fervent one night stand, a part of me remained aware of the danger of it all. I knew that this was the kind of sex that left you dickmatized and could easily lead to heartbreak. Allowing myself to fall for Caleb would only end in pain. And so, as we surrendered to the heat of our desire, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that our time together would be fleeting.

In the end, as the dawn broke and we lay entwined in each other's arms, I knew that our connection was meant to be nothing more than a fleeting moment of passion. We were two souls destined to be separated by more than just physical distance, and as much as it pained me to admit it, I knew that our time together had come to an end. But for now, all I could do was savor the memory of our night together, knowing that it would be etched in my mind forever.

Caleb had finally succumbed to exhaustion, his gentle snores filling the room. I glanced at my phone, realizing that the wine retreat I had signed up for was mere hours away from starting. Yet here I was, tangled up in a stranger's bed, trying to muster feeling in my legs.

With a determined effort, I pushed myself up, my body protesting with every movement. My limbs felt like lead, my muscles aching from the intensity of our night together.

Gathering my belongings with the aid of the flashlight on my phone, I tiptoed downstairs, careful not to disturb Caleb's peaceful slumber. The house was nice, I noted in passing, but I had no interest in lingering to admire its details in better lighting.

Dressing quickly in the foyer after finding more of my clothes on the floor, I retrieved my purse from the entry table and made my way to the door, my heart heavy with the weight of goodbye. With one last glance back at the stairs, I quietly locked the door behind me and hurried to my car, eager to put this unexpected encounter behind me.

As I drove away, I couldn't help but feel a pang of gratitude for Caleb and the passion we had shared, however fleeting it may have been. But I knew deep down that this was a chapter of my life that was meant to be left in the past, a memory to be cherished but never revisited.

Despite my fatigue and the relentless ache in my body, I pushed through the first day of the retreat fueled by sheer excitement. Thankfully it was an easy day, getting to know one another through ice breakers, a more in depth tour of the winery that the one I had previously experienced, but I was going down fast now that we stopped moving.

We were now seated in a classroom setting, my seat front a center, a choice I made to make sure that I didn’t fall asleep. I tried to stifle my yawns and stay alert, though I feared the Thompsons might mistake my weariness for disinterest when all I longed for was to be fully present in the moment.

"We've had a wonderful first day with you all. We hope you're just as excited about the next two weeks as we are. There's so much in store for you," Mr. Thompson's words washed over me, though they felt distant, obscured by the fog of exhaustion that clouded my mind.

Honestly, the entire day was a blur, a relentless stream of presentations and activities that left me longing for the sweet embrace of sleep. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would be more alert, more engaged. But for now, I sought solace in the familiar glow of my iPhone, the endless stream of work emails a harsh reminder of the insanityI had left behind. Emergencies, deadlines, all clamoring for my attention—I sighed as I scrolled, the weight of my responsibilities bearing down on me once more.

"Ahh, here he is," Mr. Thompson's voice broke through the haze, pulling me back to the present as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

Fuck these emails, I thought bitterly. I was ready to get back in bed and ignore them all.

"This is our son, Caleb Thompson Jr. He'll be popping in and out throughout our time together, starting tomorrow," Mrs. Thompson's voice cut through the fog, her words sending a jolt of recognition coursing through me.

Caleb. Like the man I had met last night—perfect, mysterious, and utterly unattainable. The memory of our passionate night together lingered in the recesses of my mind, a bittersweet reminder of a connection forged in the darkness. And as I felt eyes boring into me, my heart skipped a beat, the realization dawning on me like a sudden storm.

I lifted my sleepy gaze reluctantly from my phone, meeting a set of beautiful brown eyes with a mix of fear and longing, unable to deny the magnetic pull drawing us together once more.

There he stood, Caleb - my Caleb - the embodiment of a secret I'd hoped to keep locked away. His presence, commanding yet gentle, was a mirror image of his parents, a perfect culmination of their best features.

My breath caught in my throat as memories of our passionate night flooded my senses, a night that was meant to be a fleeting moment of pleasure, not a lingering ghost in my reality.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself.

I felt exposed, vulnerable, as his eyes refused to let go of mine, a knowing smirk playing on his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He remembered, that much was clear. I mean, of course, it was just hours ago. And as much as I tried to shrink into the background, to become invisible, I knew that I was caught in his gravitational pull once more.

The woman beside me, a lovely lady with the wisdom of years etched into her face, nudged me gently, her words a whisper of admiration for the handsome man at the front of the room. "Oh my God, he’s so cute."

I could only muster a weak agreement coupled with an awkward laugh, my mind racing, my heart pounding. I was trapped, caught between the desire to flee and the pull of his magnetic presence.

Two weeks. Two long, torturous weeks in his company? I had to guard my heart, to protect myself from the dangerous allure of Caleb Thompson Jr. But as his eyes locked with mine, I knew that this was going to be a battle I might not be prepared to fight.