by Kiki Leach
After rolling over to my back and draping an arm across my eyes to block out the light, I deeply inhaled and smiled before gradually releasing it as the warm smell of eggs, toast and bacon suddenly poured into my lungs from downstairs.
My God, he was cooking us breakfast.
After reaching for the blanket which had rolled near my feet, I pulled it back over myself and turned aside to stare at his section of the bed, brushing my hand across the large dent where his body had been just before waking up. It was still somewhat warm to the touch, which meant that he hadn't been out of here and downstairs for too long. I could still feel the weight of his arms around me as we slept, feel the heat from his breath against the back of my neck as he pulled me into his nook; feel the thickness of his dick as he kept it bare against me well into the morning.
I closed my eyes in remembering how good it felt to have him inside me more than once last night.
I finally stopped counting how many times I came after our sweat soaked through his sheets; he stopped counting sometime before finally falling asleep.
When he called out to me from downstairs, I sat up in almost a dreamlike state, my mind still cluttered with thoughts of last night and how it would affect us this morning, and stared across the room. Rolling my fingers through the curls of my hair and looking at the clock, I noticed it was barely 8am. With my boxes still in the other room and it being almost too damn cold to move (at some point, I figured he must have turned on his air conditioning after we heat up the house), I opted for grabbing something of his to wear instead, hoping he wouldn't mind all too much, assuming that he wouldn't.
After finally hopping out of bed, I tip-toed to his dresser, opened the first drawer on the far right side and reached in for the first thing I saw: a white collar shirt with long sleeves in a shape that reminded me of a baseball jersey straight from the field. In holding it up to myself, I noticed it reaching past my knees and grinned. Part of me thought about putting on something else underneath before heading out there to him -- a bra with matching panties or something like it -- while a much bigger part of me thought against it.
I wanted to feel him against me again, to know if what I felt with him last night was because I was lonely, or because I needed him in the exact same way and moment that he needed me.
Was it real? Was it all in my head? Was it something I imagined to be more than it was?
I wanted to know -- was almost too damn desperate to know -- if it was something worthy of being real, worthy of taking past what we had done, who we had become to each other before that moment; and if risking everything I ever knew to have it all again in less than a heartbeat would truly be worth it. Because when he first kissed me... My God, when he first kissed me in a way that made my heart ache and my entire body shiver from how delicious it felt, and each time after with lips so soft and skin that smelled like mint, brushing against mine with such an ease that allowed him to know me in my truest form, I felt it all the way down to my sex and beyond it; the moment his tongue melted against mine, the moment he tasted and was inside me -- My. God.
My heart burst into an uncontrollable pile of flames that felt doused in gasoline with each flicker.
This man was everything I could've asked for and more of it last night. He was so much more than anything I could've ever wanted.
It scared the absolute hell out of me like much of everything else about him, that he could be part of my purpose, part of my reason for being. But at this point, having the taste of him was worth the fear of having it all over again tonight, maybe even forever.
My God, what the hell was I thinking...?
After sliding my arms through the sleeves and buttoning the shirt down to the tail end, I threw my hair on top of my head, wrapping it around in a loose bun, then headed straight downstairs and to the kitchen. Before walking inside, I stopped at the door to watch him scramble eggs atop the stove. Barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of dark grey sweatpants that hugged just below his waist, revealing that amazing cut at the start of his dick and that beautifully shaped behind, I realized that much like me, he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. The feeling hit me in the chest like a two-ton weight.
In the morning, he was mesmerizing; a flawless statue made from stone. His skin looked almost too soft and pure for me to touch while the muscles in his arms and back were as prominent as his tattoos; his hair was a curled mess all over his head; the thought of running my fingers through it in the same way I had last night made me feel everything for him that I knew I shouldn't.
Everything I knew I still needed and more of it.
The man was like a dream come true right before my very eyes. The very thought that he could be seemed almost insane and unrealistic; I was somewhat afraid of it being true, almost intimidated by the fact that he was even real; but even more than that, I was desperate to have him all over again.
Desperate to have him as all mine this time.
Completely and utterly, all mine.
"Hey." I called out to him in a voice so quiet that I could barely hear myself just before clearing my throat.
"Hey there, baby." His voice was scratchy, almost too hard to hear beneath a slight groan but completely sexy at the same time. Straight up delicious. He arched a brow and peeked at me over his shoulder, smirking while bobbing his head. "You get enough sleep for what you could?"
"I did." I couldn't help but smile at his words despite everything inside of me screaming to do just the opposite. God, I could feel myself falling for him in a way I didn't think was humanly possible by the second. "So you can actually do more than just help me bake a pie?"
"Yeah, baby, I can do more than slice some apples and toss 'em in the oven for you when Green gets me the ingredients for it." He snickered while turning back to the skillet. "I used to burn up the goddamn kitchen when I was a kid, though."
"Really?"
"Yeah. My mother didn't cook as much as she didn't bake, so I'd try for what I could when we had something in the house to work with. Old man beat the shit outta me once when he came home to find the stove so motherfuckin' rusted from what I'd done to a bag of frozen fish."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, baby. A few days later, I ended up feeding him some shit from a dealer I knew at the time that had him sitting on the toilet for damn near a week straight. Think he's still pissed at me for it." He laughed aloud while turning off the stove.
"How do you manage to find the humor in something like that?" I questioned.
He shrugged. "Guess I'd be dead if I didn't."
The words hit me like the sharpest point of a knife to the center of shattered glass.
After removing the skillet from the stove, he crossed to the island, which was covered in a variety of plates full of toast, more eggs, bacon and bottles of orange juice.
"You made all of this?" I asked, pointing. "For who in particular?"
"Us, baby." He reached for a fork and rattled his head.
"Why?" I pushed myself forward. "Because the last time I checked, there were only two of us in this house. Unless you're expecting more people to eat with us soon?"
"Nah, baby, just..." He shrugged again while piling more eggs onto another plate, and chuckled. "I don't really know how much you like to eat, Cheyenne, or what you'd want outside of peanut butter cookies, and we've got none here. Wasn't something we've really gotten into discussing since I've been out."
"Right... Well, you guessed well enough. And even though I'm not exactly a fan of eating the entire refrigerator, thank you for the thought either way."
"It's what counts most, right?" He winked. "Just wanted to be prepared in case it wasn't enough. Don't want you going hungry while staying here."
"I wouldn't."
"Yeah, baby, I know you'd find plenty around here to eat once you got anxious enough for it."
"That sounds like more than one meaning."
"It is. Like always, you're gonna get more than one of 'em from me." He grinned whil
e rolling his tongue between his lips and nodded while eyeing me from head to toe in a way that made my stomach jump and my sex slick with the thought of him tasting me again. He was terrible in the best way possible. "You wearing my shirt?"
"Oh... yeah, I am." I stared down at myself while stepping closer to him and raised my arms above my head. As the sleeves of the shirt rolled down my elbows and the hem lifted, his eyes lowered between my thighs. He grunted. "I didn't think you would mind?"
"No, baby, not at all--"
"It was the first thing I saw this morning."
"The first goddamn thing you saw, Cheyenne? I don't believe that shit."
"Maybe the second. It smells just like you."
"That a good or bad fuckin' thing?"
"It's really good," I breathed. He gradually stepped around the island to stand in front of me and crossed his arms. I lowered my eyes between us, focusing on the rising bulge in his sweats, and shook my head to rattle the thought of finally having it across my tongue. "I didn't feel like going into the guestroom to look for anything because it was too damn cold up there. Did you turn on the air conditioning?"
He nodded. "It was too motherfuckin' hot when I got up -- like a goddamn sauna; the house needed some kinda circulation to it."
"Well, it's circulating upstairs just fine."
"Yeah?" I bobbed my head as he reached for the center of the shirt, sliding his index finger inside an opening just above one of the buttons. "You cold down here too?" he asked me, his voice dropping to a slight growl as he spoke.
I gulped before responding. "No."
He grunted again while pulling me to him. "I wanna fuckin' taste you again, baby. Last night wasn't enough... shit will never be enough when it comes to you," he muttered, his eyes skimming across every inch of me as if I were his permanent dessert. My body ached for even more of his touch, even more of his tongue. "I know you're not wearing a goddamn thing underneath this shirt, Cheyenne. No panties, no fuckin' bra..." He slid his tongue across his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and flared his nostrils. God, it turned me on like almost nothing else before. "I can see you already wet for me again."
"You can't see anything."
"I can fuckin' feel it."
"Nikko--"
"Shhh. Just let me know, baby, let me fuckin' know." He lowered his hand between my thighs; warm to the touch, he snaked his fingers against my skin and rolled his index along my slit and opening.
"Oh my God." My eyes closed as I reached up for the muscles in his shoulders to keep from nearly collapsing into his chest right then and there. When they reopened, I noticed the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth while he pulled back and lifted his hand to my face. "Why do you..." I stopped to exhale as my heart felt ready to burst right through me. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"
"I'm not doing a goddamn thing you're not wanting from me first, Cheyenne. That's a motherfuckin' fact."
"I don't ask for it--"
"No," he said, "fuckin' no 'cause you're begging for it instead, baby -- always fuckin' begging. Doing the one goddamn thing you said you'd never do with me." I parted my lips to respond in protest, but stopped and pressed them back together in knowing that what he told me was the truth. When he rolled his wet index finger along my bottom lip, my heart jumped. "I wanna see you taste yourself on me."
"Taste myself?"
"Yeah. You did last night -- ain't a goddamn thing different about it now outside of the sunlight." Hesitantly, with my heart thumping like wild inside my throat, my skin cooling to his touch and my sex throbbing like mad between my thighs, I gently sucked his finger into my mouth. "Yeahhhh, baby, goddamn. Just like last night..." Rolling my tongue to the edge before pulling away and going right back in again, I could feel him flinch against me as his cock twitched inside his pants. The thought of finally having that part of him in the same way nearly made me lose whatever was now left of my mind, which couldn't have been much more after last night. "Jesus." His brows came together as his jaw tightened. "How the fuck does that taste?"
I wrapped both hands around his wrist and opened my mouth to release him before answering. "Sweet." He nodded and rolled his finger across both of my lips this time. It was the single sexiest thing he could've ever possibly done to me in that moment. While staring into his eyes, I noticed a spark behind his own I hadn't seen before; one that set me clear on fire right in the center of the room. "We should probably eat," I told him.
He frowned in the attempt to hold back a smile. "I already asked you that, Cheyenne."
"I mean the food."
"That shit can wait, baby."
"It'll get cold."
"Who gives a fuck? I've got a microwave and stove to heat it all back up. Comm'ere to me."
"Nikko--"
"Baby...." As his arms snaked my waist, he jerked me to him as if our bodies finally reconnecting meant that he could continue breathing in peace. Pressing against his dick, long, thick and stiff, I couldn't help in rolling against it. "You feel so goddamn good, baby...so fuckin' soft and sweet against me right now..." I sank into him without even a thought as to why I needed to feel it so badly; why I needed to feel him so badly, and slid my arms around his neck as he brought his face near mine. He grinned again while turning his head aside and rolling his tongue along my lips. My head fell back as the feeling of it rendered me dizzy. He dipped his face beneath my chin, pressing his lips against my throat, and lowered his hands to my behind, squeezing tight as if it gave him life while pulling me closer and closer to his rod. I whimpered while rolling my hands into his hair and gently hiking my hips around him. "You want me to take you again, Cheyenne?"
"Yes..."
"Fuckin' say it, baby..."
"Take me all over again, Nikko, please... In the same way you did last night; I need more of it."
"Goddamn." He rolled his tongue along my skin, then sank his teeth into me as if I were a bowl full of the softest ice cream he had ever tasted. My hands lowered back down to his neck before dropping straight to the center of his back; my fingers cupped him before sliding along the rim of his pants. He flinched against me and groaned. "I've gotta meet up with my old man and his attorney, Benny, soon to discuss some shit."
"Soon?" A certified mood killer in mentioning Chino during a time like this, I dropped my hands away from him completely and glowered. "What are you planning to discuss? About the wedding, or...?"
"Some about the wedding, yeah; gonna let him know we're still deciding on a date," he said before sliding his lips across my skin; he tightened his arms to keep me close to himself. "Along with some other shit to do with the Gambiano's."
"Oh."
"The shit with them won't touch you," he said. "Just like I told you it wouldn't."
I eased out of his grip unnerved and turned to the island, reached for a glass of fresh orange juice and pressed the rim against my bottom lip to take a sip. Nikko shoved himself against me and slipped a hand beneath my shirt to press against my stomach. I nearly choked on the juice while swallowing and fell back into his chest.
He snickered while moving in to press his mouth along the back of my ear. "Sorry about that," he whispered.
"No you're not," I snapped back. I felt his lips turn up into a grin as he dragged his fingers across my skin. "Nikko," I moaned as my sex reacted; I lowered the glass back to the counter and wrapped my arm around his neck.
"What is it, baby?"
"Mm." As my head fell to his shoulder, I moved my fingers right back into his hair. God, it was still so soft, every curl as always. He was so unbelievably soft for me -- I didn't think it was remotely possible for it to be this way, for me to actually feel like I could be happy in being around him -- in being near him; happy in having him touch me as he did; as if he could love me, as if this could last, as if it could all be so terribly real. "Nikko?"
He dragged his entire tongue across the side of my throat and slipped his hand from my stomach to my thighs. "What is it, baby?" he rasped, the
sound of lust in his voice forcing my thighs apart as he pushed his fingers between them. I moaned and shoved my backside against him; he groaned while using his middle finger to circle my opening.
"What time do you have to meet Chino?" I asked him, my voice fading between warm breaths full of ecstasy as he teased my clit and sucked my skin into his mouth. I flinched as he bit down much harder than before, then relaxed against him as the pain flared every nerve ending in my body straight down to the bone. "Nikko--"
He snickered while wagging his head against me. "I don't fuckin' remember, Cheyenne."
"You should, in case he comes here and blames me for you not seeing him."
"He won't do shit. And even if he tried..." I sucked in a sharp breath and dropped my arm from around his neck as he pushed two fingers inside me. The reaction was a moan so loud spilling out from between my lips that I had to cover my own mouth with one hand while dropping the other to the edge of the island. "Tell me you want more of it from me, baby..."
"God, yes," I muttered. "I need more from you, Nikko... I might always need it."
"Goddamn right. You know I'll be ready to give you everything, baby... every goddamn thing you'll always want; every goddamn thing I know you're always gonna need from me..."
"More than this," I told him. "So much more..."
"Yeah, baby. I know." As he pushed his fingers deeper inside me while massaging my clit and rolling the base of his palm against my lips, I slightly bent forward while latching my other hand around the island and dropped my head to inhale a breath that rattled straight down the back of my throat, into my chest, filling it with the butterflies that had dissipated from last night.
"Please don't make me come in the middle of this kitchen," I begged. He pulled out before I could say another word and lifted his hand to my throat. Wrapping his fingers around my skin, he pressed his thumb along the edge of my jaw, pushing it aside. As I leaned, he moved his mouth against the inside of my ear and exhaled. The warmth from his breath sent my entire body into shock.
"I'm gonna taste you again." He opened his mouth and wrapped his teeth around the back of my ear. Then he lowered his hand from my throat to my left breast and squeezed until I reached around to stroke him through his sweats. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, baby. I need to feel you skin to skin all over again."
