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I lead him out back to my favorite part of this house. We step into the courtyard, the lush grass tickling my bare feet, licking between my toes. A lemon tree lends the air the invigorating scent of citrus.
He plucks a leaf from the tree and twirls it between his index finger and thumb. “Would you like to spend it with me?”
“What do you mean? Like a party or—” “More private.” He glances up, a slow-burning fire in his eyes. “I was thinking just us for a few days.”
He’s hard through the thin fabric of my dress and I have to stop myself from dropping to my knees right here and taking him down my throat.
It has been a long time, and he is the only man I’ve really wanted in ages. He breaks the kiss after a few drugging seconds, and when he pulls away, desire glazes the eyes that are usually so focused.
But Terry was pregnant and needed Mama more than I did. Terry was a new mother and needed Mama more than I did. Terry was here, and I was gone, so she got more of Mama than I did.
The least I can do is help. I pull out pepper and season salt from the grocery bag, instinctively opening the cabinet to the right of the stove, only to find stacks of plates. “Spices over there now.” Terry nods to the cabinet on the left. It’s a small thing, but not knowing where my mama keeps her spices feels like another thing Terry robbed me of. She betrayed me. She stole from me, but I’ve been the one in exile.
“Hold up. I didn’t come home because of you.” “Because of me?” What looks like genuine surprise widens her eyes.
Stupid bitch
“No wonder you and Daddy are such a mess,” she spits, turning on her heel and going back the way she came.
I HAVE TO CACKLE
“No, it’s just that no one ever thought they could get you. You walked around like you were too good for everybody until Brandon.” “Like I was too good…” Beneath my indignation and rage, a small bud of hurt breaks through. I loved my sister best in the world back then, would have done anything for her, and this was how she saw me? How she truly felt?
Thats really how it is
“You make this corn pudding?” my Aunt Alberta asks Mama. She seems virtually unchanged by time. A little more gray in her hair, brown skin still relatively smooth. She still walks around the house carrying her purse like she expects somebody to steal it.
Mama and Daddy used to sit out here and watch Terry and me play in the backyard. They’d hold hands and talk while we played kickball or climbed one of the big oak trees that separated our yard from our neighbor’s.
Tears gather in my eyes and emotion scorches my throat. Looking at the old tree, sitting in Daddy’s chair, I miss him. It floods my heart with that ache that never fully leaves no matter how long someone has been gone.
She swallows, purses her lips, and lets her tears flow, too. “I’m sorry.” I was right. An apology does feel better than an excuse.
Seventy-five degrees in December. Why would I ever leave Cali?
“Like” is a tepid description for my burning curiosity about this woman. About how she thinks, what makes her laugh. How will she feel when I’m inside her? How will she look after I fuck her?
“And you know what hurts as much? She seems mad at me! Seems to resent me for… I don’t know, pursuing my dreams? Finding some success? Getting out of our hometown?”
Such a bitch
“I want that—to be in a dream with you,” she answers, sounding breathless—like maybe this thing between us that I’ve given up resisting she can’t resist either.
“I just…” Takira stops and starts again. “… wanted some connection, I guess. Beyond the dick, I wanted to feel wanted and needed and all the things we dream about feeling, but don’t get enough.” “I’m sorry it was such a letdown.”
“Are you there?” Takira nearly shouts. “I mentioned Canon’s big dick energy and you got mighty quiet. You better not be fantasizing about him with me on the phone. That’s creepy as hell.”
“Oh, me know so, guhl,” she says, slipping effortlessly into the islands.
With his aviators pushed up, his “movie beard” well groomed, he has me immediately imagining how those bristles will scrape the inside of my thighs when he eats me out.
I devour him with my eyes and he must feel the nip of my teeth. Must sense the he can get it coming off me in ho-waves. He steps in, closes the door, and presses me into the nearest wall. There’s no preface to this kiss.
How could he think I could walk away now? I’m still wet from his touch.
I feel Neevah’s eyes on me now, and I don’t want to have this conversation with her in the car. She’s not just my… shit, what are we calling each other at this stage? But she’s also an actor in this film. We try our best to shield our cast and crew from the behind-the-scenes madness producers deal with.
I like you. I respect you. I want to know you. I want to fuck you. Any questions?”
He walks over and stands between my legs, nudging them wider, caressing the sides with his palms, moving to touch my inner thigh, stroking down to the curve of my knee.
“You’re cooking?” I sit up, breathing a little easier without this big man standing between my legs.
I’m tempted to masturbate in the shower because the desire is so keen, but I want to save it all for him.
I also forego panties because that just seems like a waste of time. The dress is muslin-thin, clinging to my ass and hips. I sincerely hope he can see the shadow of my pussy in the right light.
Even through the soft beard, I see the muscle in his jaw flexing. His fists clench on the table by his plate. He looks like a man on the verge of losing control, and I want to push him over the edge.
He breathes deeply and then rests his mouth against the lips, not opening me, or tasting.
With deliberate boldness, I hold his stare and glaze his lips with my fingers, adorning his mouth with my wetness.
My hand looks so small wrapped around him.
My pussy throbs with the promise of finally being filled,
I follow with a sob and a possessive kiss that marks him as mine as surely as I’m branded his however he wants me.
I lift her so she can wrap her legs around me, and even though I don’t enter, she rubs against me, the friction sweet and hot and glorious.
I’ve always been obsessive about my work, about my art. For the first time, I think I’ve found something else, someone else, to inspire that kind of intensity. She’s ruining me and I have no idea how to stop it. I’m not sure I want to. It’s scary as hell. Because that gives
Instead of giving her a lounge chair of her own, I stretch out on one and lay her on top of me.
“Growing up, was there ever a boy who called you names, pulled your hair, and then tried to kiss you behind the sliding board on the playground?” “Yeah, because it’s never too early for toxic masculinity.” His face falls, and then he grins. “I was gonna say it’s kinda like that, but never mind.”
I’ve felt indifferent for so long, with no guy really holding my interest.
“At this rate,” he says against my lips as we sway on the dance floor, “you won’t even want to kiss at midnight.” We are lost in this writhing congregation of dancers, and I reach between us to grip his cock through his jeans. “This is where I want to kiss you at midnight.”
Rolling off the bed and to my feet, I stride to the bathroom and look back at him stretched out, hands behind his head, watching me with embers in his eyes.
“Maybe Santorini. One of the Greek islands. It’s stunning. The architecture is like an extension of the landscape. White houses, blue doors and windows. Like sky and the Aegean Sea. I’ve never seen anything like it.” “I’d love to see that,” I say, my smile dissolving as I realize just how limited my view of the world has been until now.
“You can’t just turn off feelings.” I look down at my fingers, twisting in my lap. “Did it take you some time to get over her?”
“Are we really doing this?” I whisper into our kiss, an illicit thrill zipping through my body at the thought of this intimacy with the whole city watching, yet oblivious.
“And it was so damn sexy I went in my trailer on break and touched myself.” He goes statue-still, his hand tightening at my hip. “I came so hard,” I rasp into his ear.
At the sound of the condom wrapper tearing, my inner muscles contract, bracing for him.
I’m unprepared for the swipe of his tongue. For the subtle abrasion of his beard scraping the inner skin of my thighs. For the sound of him eating me.
Need shreds my voice to ribbons.
