He Who Is a Friend (Sadik Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  “I can get a pot of coffee going now, if you’d like,” Jeremy offered.

  “That would be great, J. Thanks,” Sadik replied, thankfully.

  With gusto, I grabbed the spoon and cracked the thin, glass-like caramelized sugar surface and scooped custard onto my spoon. The moment the sweetness hit my tongue, my lashes fluttered in pure delight. My tongue swiped through the pudding-like texture slathering the roof of my mouth. Unreal! I immediately decided this was, by far, the best crème brûlée I’d had, although I could never tell Nicky that. This dessert was his contribution to their family’s events, and I’d been invited to one to experience it. That was good, but this…

  One scoop led into three, and by the time I was on my sixth, there was only one more left. It wasn’t fair. I could still feel my stomach rumble. My face began to burn, causing my eyes to roll up, hitting yellowish irises. Sadik’s gaze was undeniably heated on me. He gaped at me and I peered at him for seconds long before he caught on. Then he lifted his own neglected bowl, offering it to me.

  “Oh.” My eyes dropped as I considered the last of the custard still in the bowl. “No thanks. Enjoy.” When my taste buds connected with the neurotransmitters of my brain, I reconsidered.

  He possibly read the change of mind from my face.

  “You sure?” His tone so soft, inviting. “Your ‘no-appetite bug’ must have jumped from you to me.”

  I lifted one shoulder. “If you don’t want it…”

  That’s all I had to say for Sadik to switch out our bowls, but not before I spooned the last scoop from mine. I took more time savoring the second serving, though my opinion hadn’t changed. It was really an amazing recipe.

  “Did Jeremy make this on here?”

  Without looking at me, Sadik shook his head as his honeyed regard bounced from his phone to his laptop screen. “DiFillippo’s.”

  Oh…

  I recalled Pastor Carmichael mentioning the place, and was disappointed when the second bowl was cleaned, though now my palate was satisfied. Not too long after Jeremy collected our bowls and offered coffee, which we both declined, Sadik stowed his laptop and worked his way out of his suit jacket. He settled in to relax with a glass of brandy. My cell battery had died, so I began to take small sips of my Mauve, though nothing dedicated. Thoughts of the following day began to flood my head. I had an exam and an application for grad school that were due. Before I knew it, time had lapsed and I realized how quiet it had been in our section.

  Sadik tended to his phone, and I got lost in inspecting his profile. Seriously, this guy had exotic features synonymous with beauty, a word not typically used to describe a man. However, beneath the translucent eyes, smooth russet skin, and well-articulated tongue was indisputable ruggedness. Proof of it was the indented scar on his left eyelid and the raised one just beneath his bottom lip. Even they added to his appeal. Did women like Ameerah feel the same? Pretty boy features had never been a draw for me as far as guys went. I couldn’t tell you what was, but could never imagine being excited over an orange beard or kaleidoscope-hued eyes. What was it about this—

  Those feline eyes were on me.

  So lost in thought, I missed when Sadik glanced up from his phone. My head whipped to the right and I set my gaze in the dark sky. I heard him snort, but wouldn’t dare acknowledge it.

  “I can tell you want me, at least half as much as I want you.” His tone was soft, yet so confident. My heart thudded in my chest, groin fluttered wickedly. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re holding back?”

  I sucked in a breath, suddenly embarrassed. That was when I realized the need to get honest with him about what was going on in my mind.

  Shaking my head, I tried explaining. “This is happening fast. All of it. I just met you three weeks ago at work when you happened to come in to order one of my desserts for your pregnant—” Lifting my brows, I shook my head again. “Whatever the woman is to you. Then you so happened to be at the same concert my girls and I were at. And yesterday, I walked out of a high-end boutique in Manhattan with thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes! This morning…” With animated eyes, I dipped my chin for emphasis. “I sat in a hair stylist’s chair that was just occupied by Oprah’s best friend. Then the doctor’s office visit.” From my peripheral, Sadik’s head reared, engaged. “We had no begin point.” Foolishly, I peered him directly in his eyes.

  Sadik’s full attention was on me, as it always seemed to be before I snapped on him tonight, after the show. His full lips with a light sheen from Chapstick, and the cupid’s bow portion slightly thicker than either side, brushing together captured my attention yet once again.

  My lids collapsed and face contorted. “Would you stop? I’m trying to have a moment of honesty here and explain this isn’t my real life. This…” I gestured the jet. “…does not happen to me every six to eight months.”

  His brows met as he smirked. “What could I have done differently to ease you into…this?” His regard paid a cursory glance around the cargo.

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t know…” My arms flew into the air. “Maybe if we had seen each other a few times before your buying me a four-figure gown and having me cleared for HIV, there would have been a pace set and I would feel…”

  “Feel what?” His expression was now stoic, though his posture was lax.

  Sadik’s legs were stretched in front of him as he reclined in his chair. He made this seem “everyday” for…us.

  “Feel earned.”

  “By whom?”

  “By me. You seem to be a generous guy. I can admit to enjoying the attention, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.” And I hate the thought of you with other women—pregnant and not!

  For a while, he just gazed into my eyes. I wondered if I’d said something offensive in my honesty spiel. Perhaps I reminded him of our reality. Sadik didn’t know me. And I didn’t know him to be spoiled with his money. I turned for the window, once again, feeling embarrassed.

  “Taste or touch?”

  I turned to him, surprised by his even tone, clearly not fazed by my awkwardness. Immediately, I decided to play along.

  “I bake, so definitely taste. Touch...” I shivered, simultaneously flashing my tongue and turning up my nose in disgust.

  “What’s up with that?”

  I shook my head, grinning shyly. “Touch has never been a big deal to me.”

  Sadik sat back in his seat, letting out a weary breath as he swiped his nose, facing the window to the left of him. “Taste and touch can go hand in hand.”

  “Wha-what do you mean?”

  Hiking his right brow, Sadik appeared tired. I could understand; it had been a long day and was late.

  “Well, when fuckin’—good fuckin’—you can enjoy taste and touch in the same event.” My whole frame went rigid, toes curled as I stared straight ahead. “Shit, Bilan!” he breathed. “You’re over there blanching?”

  My hands flew to my cheeks. “No!”

  “You are,” he droned, leaning toward me. “Coyness ain’t never been my thing, but yours is adorable.” His hands clutched beneath the layered fabric of the gown behind my lower legs, pulling me into him.

  Then he lifted my chin and brushed his soft, warm lips against my mouth. I pushed into him, wanting the opportunity to kiss Sadik again. My suction in the peck was slow to show him I wanted it. God, I wanted it. My eyes opened in time to see his lids slowly separate.

  He moved into me again. “Shit, Bilan…”

  Sadik’s lips caressed mine just before his tongue pierced my mouth and I opened for him. I had no idea what came over me, but I met his every lick and swipe, greedy for his taste. My hands went to the sides of his face, holding him to me as I explored his sweet mouth. His moan made my spine shiver, and his breath hitting my face had my nipples stinging in the tight corset. I couldn’t breathe as I matched his thrashing with my own aggression.

  Even when I felt his body shifting, though his mouth remained in a dance with
mine, I didn’t stop kissing him. I couldn’t. I wanted to drown in the magic of his scent, heat, and oral pleasure. I didn’t realize he’d knelt in front of me until his hands were pushing up my legs beneath the gown. When they reached my thighs, they contracted and jerked embarrassingly.

  He retracted his tongue and whispered while meeting my throbbing lips. “Relax, baby,” My chest heaved as I sloughed in air. I couldn’t believe the weird things my body was doing at his touch. “I can’t promise I’ll wait until the results come in, but I’m going to try.” He breathed the words into my face. “Tonight, I wanna show you taste and touch can be one in the same.”

  Underneath the layers of the gown, my panties were given a light yank. “Lift.”

  On instinct, my eyes roved around the quieted plane and saw no movements on either side of the partitions now drawn by curtains. His honeyed eyes seduced me as his hands teased my jumpy skin. My panties were pulled over my sandals and tucked into the pocket of his trousers. He gathered the fabric of my gown, rolling it up toward me. Then Sadik lifted my legs in a manner more illicit than I was used to. A draft of air hit my pelvis, followed by a warm slithery muscle snaking up my slit. On their own accord, my thighs tightened to the point of closing. Sadik gently pushed against them.

  He reared back, peering over the fabric. “Did I hurt you?” The croak in his gentle voice had my heart trembling. Biting my top lip with squeezed eyes, I shook my head. “Then just relax,” he groaned lowly before ducking his head beneath the mountain of layers.

  Oooh…

  Sadik peppered kisses up my right thigh, tickling me shamefully. He repeated the same sensual torture on my left thigh. My hands curled into tight fists. When his tongue roved between my labia again, my belly leaped. Trying to relax into it to not further embarrass myself, my breaths were ragged. It was almost impossible to breathe in the tightness of my corset while having an experienced man between my legs.

  I felt his hand move up and sucked in air when a finger pushed into my flesh, rounding and rounding inside, rimming me. His tongue busied on a bed of nerves, shooting zings up my groin. My mouth stretched wide, eyes squeezing from unfamiliar pleasurable torture. Then his finger was at my mouth, brushing against my lip. I opened and he pushed it inside. My lids flashed wide at the salty, astringent taste.

  Sadik’s shiny head lifted, eyes heavy while holding his finger in my mouth. “Suck,” he whispered huskily.

  He didn’t wait for me to start before heading back down under. My back bowed as his tongue began to clobber that bed of nerves down there. Pathetically, I was twenty-eight years old and had never felt a sensation like this in my life at the hand of a man. It was powerfully euphoric, and Sadik’s efforts felt so intentional—even if I didn’t know the destination. I began to suck on his finger, feeling…crazy. Nasty.

  And that’s when it hit me. Taste and touch worked together to bring pleasure. Only, we weren’t having sex. This wasn’t intercourse, and, still, I was prepared to lose my mind, sucking in more and more of his finger. Quickly, I was encroaching on an urgency my body couldn’t resist. My mouth suctioned, tongue moved under his digit in an impassioned stroke. My groin lifted and lifted, constrained nipples tingled to a vibrating sensation. I sucked hard as an intense insistence took over me and a bomb of pleasure imploded without warning, leaving my entire frame vibrating in bliss. Floating. As euphoric flutters took over my body, I glided in space.

  I couldn’t decide how long lightning pleasures zipped through my frame before I fell in the seat boneless. When I was able to open my eyes, I was met with those that were green, yellow, brown, and black. Scowling, his half-mast lids made me wonder if he’d just experienced the pleasure I did. His mouth and dusted chin glistened more than his skinned head. And in that moment, I felt a connectedness to him I’d never felt before. It was a degree of vulnerability as I lay slouched, opened to him, allowing him to expose me to his staff as he took pleasure from me.

  “You taste amazing,” he barely uttered. My chest heaved and I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my eyes open. “You okay?”

  Struggling to catch my breath, I managed to nod.

  “You’re stunning after an orgasm, too.”

  I felt weakened by the desire heating his gaze. The hallmark of affection I’d never felt from a man. An expression of earnest was in his eyes. Something tangible, I couldn’t deny. My chest heaved, goosebumps still peppered my skin, and my heart stammered at what was being transmitted between us.

  “Sa—”

  Before I could finish his name, his soft lips were on me, tongue expressive inside my mouth. Yes. He was aggressive, all alpha, and while that concerned me before, it thrilled me in this manner. That salty astringent taste was now seasoned with Mauve, mint-flavored lip balm, and distinct Sadik. It emboldened me, made me needy for him. My hands pushed up to his stubbled cheeks, holding him to me.

  “One more,” he whispered after pulling back.

  My tongue laying distended from my mouth as he did. Then I watched him lower his torso and dive beneath the rolled layers. His mouth on my labia, tongue teasing the plumped tissues. My head rolled back onto the plush leather chair, eyes too heavy to keep a watch out for his staff. Mind too lost to care. His warm hands splayed at the back of my thighs, ears caught in between. His mouth dangling me between two galaxies.

  With an arching spine, I began to move against the rhythm of his tongue on my clit, pleasure so intense I wanted to scream, cry, beg. Still, I rode out the pleasure. Even against the pains from the restraints of my chest, my lower body moved, feeding myself to his busy mouth. When another wave of urgency blossomed in my groin, I panicked, feeling heavier than I did before. But I was powerless to the magnitude of the detonation, and mewled weakly. Second by second, I was lost to the current and washed away in bliss.

  We pulled up on her quiet Woodland Park block. Bizarrely embattled, I pulled myself from beneath Bilan’s sleeping frame to exit the limo. She stirred, slowly awakening herself. By the time I stood from the car and glanced back inside, she was gathering her things. I extended my hand, helping her out, throwing my arm over her shoulder once she was on her feet. Immediately, she melted into my side as we trekked to her house, then hiked up the stairs.

  I waited for her to pull out her keys and noticed Bilan kept her head low, not looking at me one time. She looked tiny draped in my suit jacket over a poofy gown, hiding her face. When she pushed her door in, Bilan turned to me, head still low.

  “Thanks,” she whispered awkwardly. Then she brushed the back of her tapered head. “Sorry about the show. I…” Bilan hesitated.

  No. I’m sorry…

  I lifted my hand to her face, and swiped the underline of her bottom lip with my thumb.

  “Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed you.” I brushed my lips over her forehead. “Go get some rest.” I nodded toward her open door before taking off.

  My shoulders were heavy as I skipped down the stairs to the limo. I sat on the opposite bench we were in on the way from the airport. Not even two blocks from pulling off, my mind began to churn on overload and my phone rang. My brother’s name lit the screen. I answered it and tapped again to put it on speaker as I rubbed my tight eyes.

  “Yeah, Ib?”

  “Just got a call. Marco’s crib just got blown the fuck up.”

  Marco was Salvatore Rizzo’s son, Lia’s brother.

  I rubbed my head from top to bottom, exhaling along the way. “How?”

  “Bomb. Somebody must’ve planted it.”

  “Was he there?”

  “Nah. That muthafucka lucky his lady and kid wasn’t there. The house was empty, but they said it’s gone.”

  “Hmmmm…”

  “Yo, where you at?”

  “On my way to my office to pick up a couple of thumb drives.” My assistant packed documents on them while I was out of town today. Shit I didn’t want on the system. “You packed?”

  “I guess. Monica in there, throwing shit together.”

 
“Three weeks. You’ll be gone for that long. As we can see, timing couldn’t be better.”

  “Shiiiiiit,” he croaked into the phone. “I told Pops the same fuckin’ thing.”

  “I need to stop by Julius’ in Paterson to sign some paperwork before the flight out.”

  “What you doing with Julius Richards? Ain’t he running for mayor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The fuck you doing with that?”

  “Donations.” I cupped my chin, still feeling dried traces of her around my mouth.

  “Oh.” Iban’s tone was flat.

  “I’ll see you at the airport in a few hours.”

  “Till then.”

  The line closed. I sat back, exhaling again.

  “Yeah,” Rory groused from the front seat. The open partition just above my head. “Eating that girl’s pussy’ll have yo ass tired ass fuck, my nigga.”

  I rolled my eyes, a flurried sensation zipping through my chest.

  “Fuck you, Rory.”

  “Nah. That’s what you wanted to do to that girl. Had her ass sounding like she was fuckin’ crying back there.”

  Of course, she’d know. Nosy ass…

  Lamont snickered, smart enough not to let a full-on laugh slip. Rory got away with shit no one else on my payroll could, and it was well known.

  I tapped the pocket of my pants before pulling out cotton thongs with lace trim. I hated cotton. They had no place on a woman. Too bad that wasn’t a “Sadik-ism” I’d be indoctrinating her with. I crushed the panties into my fist as I gazed out of the dark windows, watching the street lights shoot past.

  That was it...

  It was time for this shit with Ms. Bilan to come to an end.

  ∞11∞

  THREE WEEKS LATER…

  Pelicans jerking their wings over the roaring waves played the background as I scrolled down my iPad. My other hand brought a bottle of Corona to my face for a pull.