Sweet Nectar (Ellison Brothers)

by Vera Roberts

  Is he here to let me know there will be no Harlem as I expected?

  Just when I’m mouth is about to catch up with my brain and asks a dozen questions, Soul walks over and envelopes my body with a big hug. A sigh releases from my lungs as I inhale his earthy scent and close my eyes. Home is wherever he is.

  “You doing good, shorty?” He asks and I shrug. “I saw the show.”

  “And you still came here?” I’m in disbelief.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” He pulls away from me, and lifts my chin with a finger. “You’re my woman, aren’t you?”

  “I wasn’t sure.” I reply. “Two days and no phone calls?”

  “I had an issue I’m trying to resolve.” He reluctantly admits.

  I look into Soul’s eyes and try to find a hint of what issue it was. “Let me guess? Your family.”

  “No,” he says it in a way that tells me that’s the end of the discussion, “what are your plans for today?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I shrug. “Since I don’t have a boyfriend and the guy who I thought was interested in me left me on read, I thought I would pick up a knitting class and adopt a couple of kittens. Maybe watch The Golden Girls or Living Single. Probably Living Single since that’s more my speed, anyway.”

  Soul sweeps his lips over mine and I lose all resolve. His tongue is smooth, pointy, and fat as he licks the inside of my mouth the same way he did to my cunt. I feel my towel come off and fall down to the floor as Soul gently nudges me back to the bed.

  The backs of my knees hit the bed first and collapse on it as Soul climbs on top of me. He continues to kiss me before his lips trail all over my body. I buck underneath him and he places a hand on my stomach to settle me down.

  His hand moves to my sex and pushes a finger inside. I gasp and clench around him as Soul just smiles. “Someone missed me,” he purrs as he strokes in and out. His thumb pads my clit as he continues to pump inside me.

  My body arches off the bed but Soul eases me back down. “No, you’re going remain still and enjoy before I give you this dick.”

  “Fuck!” The sound comes out as a loud whisper. Soul is worshipping my body, touching every string on a violin he has masterfully learned in such a short amount of time. I look at him and see how fiery his eyes are. His nostrils are flared with heated emotion and I can it’s taking everything to keep Soul at ease.

  My body rocks in the same rhythm as his fingers as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure hits me. Soul quickly grabs my neck and squeezes it tight as I orgasm. He’s lightly choking me, but I can still breathe. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

  Soul withdraws his fingers and only replaces them with his tongue. He licks hard and fast as if he was trying to prove a point to me. Maybe he was never going to leave? Maybe I overreacted to everything?

  It doesn’t matter. Soul hungrily laps at me as he gathers one leg and puts it over his shoulder. He furiously licks me, taking a moment to suck on my swollen clit, before I explode into another orgasmic frenzy. I take a pillow to cover my screams so Desiree and her crew doesn’t hear it and I’m not entirely certain they haven’t.

  I remove the pillow from my face and stare up at Soul, who has a sexy smirk curving his lips. “Get dressed. We’re going out today.”

  I’m in a daze and my mouth can only say one word: “Okay.”

  Soul takes my dropped towel and quickly cleans me off before he picks out another outfit of mine. It’s a part of Soul’s love language. He can tell me how much he loves me until he’s blue in the face but Soul rather shows it by dressing me.

  He doesn’t knock the Wal-Mart or Target clothing and he’s not insistent I have to wear things from only his line. Instead, he chooses outfits that complement my shape and give me a much-needed confidence boost.

  I love him more for it.

  I hurriedly put on the clothing while Soul is busy on his phone. His eyebrows are furrowed and he shakes his head at something. Just when I’m about to ask him if he saw yet another angry tweet from the Toddler-in-Chief, Soul picks up his phone and speaks into it. “So, what now? Really? I see. Hell, no! No, I don’t entertain terrorist threats. Yo, if they’re about that life, they know what to do. All right, man. Late.” He hangs up and releases a deep sigh.

  Whatever is going on, it’s serious to the point Soul’s entire mood was affected. His eyes are still downcast, but his mouth is silently cursing someone out. I can make out fuck, bitch, and a surprising one, fuck her.

  Her.

  Her.

  Another woman is bothering Soul.

  And he doesn’t want me to know about her.

  Chapter Nine

  “Is everything okay, baby?” I ask. I don’t want his wrath.

  “Yeah,” he nods and stands up. The storm within his eyes dissipates once he sees how the outfit looks on me. He stands behind me as his eyes glance over the yellow top and bright orange shorts. My ebony hair is in a large puff on top of my head.

  “This outfit was made for you, shorty.” He slides his large hands over my thick, brown thighs and up my small waist. I’m pear-shaped but according to Soul’s reaction, I’m his perfect shape. I’m aroused all over again. “Made for you.”

  “We’re never going to leave.” I reply and he nods.

  “Let’s go.” He opens the door and I quickly follow him out.

  We pass by the living room on the way out. “Hey.” I talk to Desiree and Alex. “We’ll be back later.”

  “Aight.” Desiree blows out a plume of smoke as Alex sits on her lap. “Take care, boo. Yo, Soul? Take care of my girl, my nigga.”

  I cringe but the word doesn’t even faze Soul. I get the feeling he’s used to being called that. “Always, G.” He nods before we leave. I love how well Desiree and Soul get on with each other. I know it’s not too important that my friends like my boyfriend, but Desiree is family. She hated Jared for good reasons, and she loves Soul for all of the reasons.

  “I’m sorry for Desiree,” I follow him down the corridor. “She says that word to everyone. I’ve tried to correct her but she ain’t trying to hear me.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time I was called that.” He glances at me with those dark lashes and beautiful blues. “You get used to having a black card rather quickly. You’re also aware how quickly it can be taken from you.”

  “But you listen to Luke Bryan,” I casually reply.

  Soul stops walking and turns to me with a slow smirk forming on his lips. “You like his music now, don’t you?”

  I blink at him. “I can’t name one song.” He continues to stare at me. “I’m more of a Garth Brooks kinda gal.”

  “Now that’s the GOAT.” We start walking again. “If you’re going to listen to country, always start with Garth. You can’t get any better than that.”

  “I just never took you to be someone so into country music...?” My voice trails off.

  Soul shrugs as if it’s something he doesn’t understand, neither. “My Granddaddy loves it. Every summer when we visited him in Vermont, that’s all he played. That and his blues records. That’s all he cared about. His country and his blues. Old Democrat moneybags was a Southern boy at heart. Fried okra, fried green tomatoes, and hot water cornbread type of Southern. I used to hate listening to it whenever we visited, but after a while, it grew on me.”

  “And it’s shaped you.” I mention.

  “This and that will shape a person. It’s what you do with those changes that make a difference.” He opens the door for me and I walk through. “Sometimes the changes are good. Sometimes they’re not. The real question is how much you’ll let it affect you.”

  “We still haven’t talked about the other day, Soul.” He leads me to an awaiting car and a security guard opens the back passenger door for me. “I need to explain to you what happened.”

  “In due time,” Soul smiles. “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s have some fun today and talk about it later.”

  “Okay.” I s
mile and began to get inside the car.

  “Yo, Ari! Yo! Let’s rap for a minute!”

  My body freezes as I recognize the voice. To my horrifying surprise as I turn around, I lock eyes with Jared and his friends. He’s walking like he’s about to bum rush me and I’m in no mood to deal with Jared and whatever bull he has.

  “May I help you?” Soul speaks to Jared.

  Jared comes up to the SUV but is stopped by Soul’s security team, who are big, muscular men and I think a few of them are armed. “Yo, I need to talk to Ari for a minute.”

  “Ariana is fine and doesn’t need to speak with you.” Soul states. “You can speak with me, though.”

  “Yo, man, I ain’t got beef with you, aight? I need to holler at Ari real quick,” Jared steps forward but a security guard nudges him back. “Oh, so it’s like that, Ari?”

  “I have nothing else to say, Jared.” My voice is pleading with him to stop making a fool out of himself. “Please go.”

  “Oh, I see.” Jared nods. “You got yourself a rich nigga, huh? You act like the last six years didn’t mean a damn thing, huh?”

  “Okay, let’s get one thing squared away,” Soul’s nostrils flared up and I know it’s only a matter of time before his fist connects with Jared’s jaw. “I’m not a black person and neither are you. I don’t care how down you are with the swirl. I don’t care how much soul food you eat. I don’t care how much black pussy you eat. You’re not black. You never have been. You never will be. Tread lightly when you want to use that certain word.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?” Jared steps up to Soul and my body freezes. “One hit and I’ll sue you for everything.”

  “I have the power and resources to make you go away, bitch. I don’t even have to touch you to do so.” Soul stares down Jared. “Don’t test my petty.”

  Jared swallows but doesn’t back down. “And what are you going to do about it?”

  “You like to act like you’re gangsta until you’re up against real G’s.” Soul’s voice is low but authoritative. “Wiggas like you are a dime a dozen and are easily replaceable.” Soul motions for his entourage to fall back and they all get in line. Soul heads back to the SUV and leads me inside.

  “Yo, you can have her, B. She ain’t nothing but a trick-ass ho, anyway.” Jared yells. “Fuck you and fuck her.”

  Soul turns back and just smiles. He gets into the car and motions for the driver to go.

  There’s a long silence in the car and neither says a word. Soul is still pissed but he’s trying not to show his emotions. I know it took everything not to lay Jared out and I’m sure Jared’s taunts didn’t help matters.

  I can’t help but to think Soul’s anger is directed at me somehow. “I’m sorry about Jared. When I said no to him, he didn’t speak to me and I thought it was over. I didn’t think he was going to come over today.”

  “I did.” Soul replies as he looks at the window.

  I’m stunned. “Did you follow Jared around as well?”

  “No, I didn’t have to. Narcissists don’t take no for an answer easily.” He lets out a small sigh. “He brought his friends over to put the pressure on you. He knew you weren’t going to turn him down with his friends behind him.”

  I feel almost sick to my stomach. Jared had pulled the same move numerous times in our relationship and I fell for it every time. I probably would’ve fallen for it had Soul not have been there. “My god...”

  “Shit gets old. You get tired of trying to work things out. You get tired of listening to their excuses and giving chances. Sometimes for your peace of mind, you just have to let people go so they can do the dumb shit to someone else.” He replies.

  “You didn’t take care of Jared,” I mention to Soul as we settle in the backseat. “I thought you were going to kill him.”

  “It’s harder to not fight than it is to do just that.” Soul shrugs. “Power isn’t about physically murdering someone. You can ruin someone’s life if you do enough research on that person.”

  Soul is implying something but he’s too coy to say exactly what. “Will Jared bother me anymore after this?”

  Soul shakes his head and finally relaxes in the car. “He won’t bother anyone else for a long time.”

  Chapter Ten

  The one thing I love about the girls at Sista Gal is that when messy news hits home, they deal with head-on and then it’s a non-issue. The plan was to talk about my refusing Jared’s proposal but his subsequent arrest shattered all of that.

  Not that it’s an issue with me. I didn’t want to talk about it at all. I also didn’t want to address any dealings with Soul. In fact, I don’t want to talk about anyone that has to do with Ariana, Soul, or Jared.

  The only person I want to address is Laura.

  Laura came from a privileged background and is still rather privileged today. She doesn’t know what fish and grits are other than Outkast rapped about it. She’s unfamiliar with Frankie Beverly and Maze but could recite New Kids on the Block lyrics.

  She’s one of us and yet, she’s not one of us.

  Her parents made sure she grew up as bougie as they come and she did. Daughter of a doctor and a socialite, Laura was a bitch to everyone and often looked down at people for not having her lifestyle. Most of her friends growing up were white and she maybe has one black best friend, who is also just as bougie as she is.

  Yet, Laura’s bougieness (if that’s a word), paved the way for her bitchiness. She didn’t become Queen Bee by being nice and having a nice figure. She fought, backstabbed, and fucked her way to the top. She had her own talk show before turning it into her own network.

  She can make or break anyone’s career. I always wondered what that saying, ‘It’s about what you know but who you know’ was really about. With Laura, she has the connections that have connections that have connections.

  And now I need to be on her good side before I leave for New York.

  I’m still rather miffed at her for the Jared surprise. After she saw me making out with Soul, she never once gave a warning who was inside my dressing room nor did she shed light on the so-called Spouse’s Day.

  I have to put aside my frustrations. I need to leave Sista Gal on good terms and that means kissing as much booty as my big lips can handle. I swallow my pride and anger and head into Laura’s office on set.

  I’m immediately greeted by her blonde and perky secretary, Kim. Kim is a lovely woman who wears intentionally low-cut tops because the set full of gay men will never harass her. I have to admit that’s rather genius.

  “Hi Kim. Is Laura available?” I ask her.

  “Um, she’ll be available in a minute for a quick chat but nothing more.” Kim gives me a friendly smile. “Did you need to talk to her?”

  “Yeah, I need to just have a quick conversation with her about some other things but it can wait until after the show.” I mention.

  “Okay,” Kim’s face quickly morphs into the type of demeanor one has when a loved one has died. I can already sense the hair pats and back rubs before she opened her mouth. “How are you doing, kiddo?”

  Kim is at the Auntie stage of age. It happens sometime when a woman turns 35 and up. While all women of that age are designated aunties despite their own childbearing status, Kim relishes it because she many people talk to her about their issues and she feels like a therapist of sorts.

  Honestly, I think she just wants the most tea on what’s going on with staff here at the network and on the show, but whatev. I already know she wants the inside scoop of the debacle of Friday’s episode and she’s going to be disappointed to hear otherwise.

  “I’m fine.” I smile.

  “Yeah?” She nods, hoping for more tea.

  “Yeah. Everything’s good.” My smile is bigger.

  “Well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.” She adds.

  Kim is the last person I want to talk to about anything going on with me. But instead of saying any of that, I just answer politely: “Th
ank you.”

  A door opens and Laura comes out. She’s wearing a black pantsuit and her weave is up into a French roll. Her makeup is surprisingly soft and I know that’s the intention. She’s always the sweet before the poison sets in. She’s the original arsenic and old lace.

  “Ariana!” She smiles her bright, wicked smile at me. I’m resisting punching her in her fucking face. “Just the woman I wanted to see. Come in.”

  I follow Laura into her office and the extravagance still overwhelms me. Oak furniture hugs the four walls with a complementing sofa and wet bar. Behind Laura’s huge desk is the Los Angeles skyline.

  On a huge bookcase are the numerous Emmys, Golden Globes, and other television awards. Numerous photos of Laura with dignitaries, celebrities, and politicians adorn the walls.

  It’s clear she’s the black godmother of sorts and it’s a little unnerving to see how she is since she’s only a decade older than me. It’s rumored her wealth is closer to billionaire status but no one can actually prove it. And most don’t want to.

  I sit before Laura and she casually folds her arms across her small waist. She smiles at me with almost indignation, as if I’m about to waste her time. “I’ll get straight to the point – I’m moving to New York very soon and I’m hoping if you could put a good word for me in at a sister station. Or give me some leads so I follow through? I’ll finish this week on Sista Gal, but I’ll be moving to New York come Saturday.”

  Laura nods in a way where she understands what I’m saying but her eyes crinkle as in she wants more gossip for her arsenal. I wonder how many people she has backstabbed with those same tactics. “Did a certain Ellison convince you to move to New York?”

  Yes. “No,” I answer, “there’s nothing here for me in L.A. and I want to explore a bit more of life. I want to be a legit journalist and I can’t really do that reporting on YouTube celebrities most people don’t know about.”

  Laura nods again and I’m becoming increasingly annoyed with her passive-aggressiveness. “Are you sure you’re moving to New York for you? The journalism competition out there is tough. Atlanta is no better. Los Angeles might have been your best shot.”