by Jazz Jordan
“Let me feel you, Reese’s,” he begged.
“Deandre, maybe we shouldn’t—”
“You’re so wet, baby.”
“Deandre, I think—”
“Baby, just let me feel you.”
I was so turned on that I couldn’t say no. Deandre slowly entered me, and I got wetter the deeper he went. The sensation made me moan.
“Damn you feel good, Reese’s.”
“Deandre!”
“I love you.”
“I love you!” I screamed, holding him tighter.
He rubbed on my clit with his finger while he thrust himself deeper inside of me. My body shook as I climaxed, and I screamed his name out over and over again. He pulled his brown, glistening dick out of me, and it was covered with my creamy, white cum. He smiled and said, “That’s what I like to see and feel.” He penetrated me again, with slower, more gentle strokes this time.
He felt so good that I quickly came again. “Damn, Deandre. See what you do to me?”
His body shook, and he whispered, “I’m about to…Ooohhh! Can I cum inside of you, baby?”
“You wanna…what?”
“Let me cum inside of you, baby. It feels too good to stop.”
“Oh God, Deandre!”
“Can I?”
“Yes, I guess—”
“I wanna hear you said it.”
“Cum, Deandre. Cum now…inside of me.”
He went deeper. “Say it again.”
“Deandre, cum inside of me.”
His movements slowed, and I felt a burst of warm wetness in my pussy. He bit his bottom lip and grunted, and his breathing grew heavy. He filled me with his seed and muttered, “Damn, Reese’s.” After a few more strokes, he pulled out and lay beside me, panting.
I rested my head on his chest and looked up at him. I couldn’t believe what we’d just done. It felt amazing, but I hadn’t had unprotected sex since Frank. I wasn’t worried about getting pregnant, since I was sure that wasn’t a possibility for me, but I was concerned about STDs. I knew basketball players had access to thousands of horny female fans with who knows how many diseases. My heart began thundering in my chest at the thought; I didn’t want to end up at the clinic. “Deandre…”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?”
“I, uh…well, I know we’re a couple now and, um…I just wanna be sure… Look, I need to know that it’s just me and you, especially after tonight.”
“No doubt, Reese’s.”
“But if you do…if something happens out on the road, with another woman, just promise me you’ll be…safe.”
His eyes popped open. “I’m not cheating on you. Relax.”
“I’m serious, Deandre.”
“I love you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“I’m sure Magic told Cookie the same thing.”
He frowned. “You think I got AIDS or something?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You need to chill, Reese’s. I’ve been tested for everything. The league makes us get physicals all the time.”
“I just…I want to be sure I’ve got nothing to worry about. I mean, I know you’ll be traveling soon, and—”
“I love you, and you just said you love me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we can’t have love without trust. Do you trust me?”
I nodded.
He stroked my face. “Then you gotta believe me the first time I tell you something.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool. I’m glad you ain’t goin’ raw with no other dude.” He patted my booty. “All of this belongs to me, and I’m gonna take good care of it.”
“You’d better.”
He kissed my mouth, and within minutes, we were making love again, finishing off our weekend with passion, champagne, and more declarations of love.
* * *
On Monday morning at work, my body didn’t even respond when Frank came to the editing suite to shamelessly flirt with me again. I just knew Deandre was the one for me, and I was counting down the days until our trip to Atlanta.
CHAPTER 9
My alarm clock buzzed at four thirty a.m. I turned it off and yawned. I’d been so restless with anticipation that I hadn’t gotten much sleep. I hopped into the shower, hopeful that the sensation of the warm water on my skin would awaken me. I wasn’t feeling very well; it was the last day of my period, and I was a little irritable and slightly bloated. I tried not to dwell on my menstrual drama. Soon, my booty would be in a plush leather seat on a first-class flight, and I could rest my weary head on Deandre’s shoulder. We hadn’t fooled around when I was on my cycle before, but I was sure he’d enjoy my pussy at any time of the month. Aunt Flo wouldn’t get in the way of me getting my groove on, as long as I could wash up first and lie on a towel down while we did it.
I plugged in my flatiron and unzipped my cosmetic bag. Normally, when I traveled, I’d just throw on a baseball cap and put on a little lip-gloss, but I wanted to look extra sexy for my extra-sexy traveling companion. After styling my hair and putting on some makeup, I studied my reflection. I looked good, with the exception of the whites of my eyes being a little pink. I slipped into my black jeans and strapped on my Victoria’s Secret push-up bra. I put on my fitted blue sweater, then finished off my ensemble with some high-heeled leather boots and my Gucci sunglasses. I smiled at myself in the full-length mirror, confident that I’d be the baddest bitch at McNamara Airport.
I heard my phone ringing inside of my purse; I could tell by the Alicia Keys “No One” ringtone that it was Deandre. I smiled and answered, “Hey! Are you outside?”
“Reese’s…Reese’s…” he replied, followed by a bunch of static and then silence.
I called him back, but my call went straight to voicemail. At the sound of the beep, I said, “Hey, sexy. I guess we must be trying to call each other at the same time. I’ll try you back in a few. Can’t wait to see you.”
Two minutes later, he returned my call: “Reese’s…”
“Hey, Deandre.”
“I’m sending a car service.”
“Okay. I guess it doesn’t make sense to drive out there just to park your car for four days. It’s a rip-off, so—”
“No, I mean I’m sending a car for you, ‘cause…well, I’m not gonna be able to make it, baby.”
“What!? Deandre, how could you cancel on me at the last minute like this? This is an important trip, and you know that. What the hell is going on?”
“Reese’s, I—”
“No! You can’t do this to me, to us!”
“Baby, it’s Corey. He’s in the hospital. He’s got sickle cell, and he had an attack last night. I’ve gotta drive to Milwaukee see him.”
“Oh God! Deandre, I’m sorry. I-I had no idea. I feel terrible. I pray your son’s okay, honey.”
“Yeah, he’s been having these attacks since he was a baby, but he’s is one tough little dude. The doctors say he should be fine.”
“Do you want me to come with you? I can cancel Atlanta and—”
“Not this time. I don’t think he’s ready to see me with a new girlfriend yet. Since I broke up with his mom, he keeps asking when I’m gonna come back home.”
“Aw, bless his little heart. I understand. I just hate to see you go through this alone.”
“It’s cool, Reese’s.”
“I don’t even want to go to Atlanta anymore, not without you, and with me worrying about you and your son the whole time.”
“Well, you said it’s important, that the conference might boost your career, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Me and you are supposed to be a power couple, like Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Go handle your business, girl. It’ll be all right.”
“Okay, but I don’t know—”
My door intercom buzzed, interrupting me.
“Hold on, Deandre,” I said. I then pressed the intercom and asked, “Who is it?
”
“It’s Metro Car Service, ma’am.”
“Deandre?”
“I’m still here. Go ahead, Reese’s. Call me when your plane touches down.”
“I will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll be right down,” I told the car service, then grabbed my bags.
* * *
Travelers swarmed around the airport like nectar-starved bees. I weaved through the crowd of over-caffeinated businesspeople, toting super-sized suitcases on wheels. I waited ten minutes for the express tram to my gate, waited in the bathroom line for fifteen minutes to pee, then waited another twenty minutes for a Starbucks cappuccino. By the time I made it to the boarding area for my flight, I was exhausted from all the waiting.
I was also very worried about Deandre, so I sent him a text message: “I’ll B boarding soon. I hope UR son is okay. Please keep me posted. I love U. Thanks 4 sending the car.”
As I sipped my lukewarm, overpriced coffee, I spotted Frank and Tisha walking in my direction. He was dressed in a sharp gray suit, and she had on khakis, a black blouse, and a long strand of pearls around her neck. Her long hair was slicked back into a tight bun. They looked like poster children for the buppie lifestyles. Even more so at the sight of them, I dreaded taking the trip without Deandre at my side.
Tisha flashed an exaggerated smile at me that made me want to throw up. “Hello, Kai!”
“Where is Deronque?” Frank asked.
“Deandre had a family emergency,” I explained flatly, scowling at him for mispronouncing my lover’s name on purpose.
They sat down in the seats across from me.
Frank smiled and said, “Well, I guess three’s company.”
“Flying solo does have its advantages,” Tisha chimed in. “Atlanta has a fabulous pool of single men! I know someone who might tickle more than your fancy. He’s tall, dark, and gainfully employed. On top of that, he’s a Morehouse man, and—”
“I’m not interested,” I said. “I’m in a committed relationship.”
Tisha pointed to the gleaming diamond on her ring finger. “Trust me, this is the only kind of commitment that counts. Right, Franklin?” She kissed him on the cheek.
I was tempted to stand up and shout, “Bitch, do you realize your man still tries to fuck me every chance he gets?” but my anger transformed to joy when I heard my cell phone ding with the sound of a new text message. I checked it, eager to see Deandre’s reply.
Instead, I was disappointed to I see a message from Chantel, my best friend—if I could even call her that anymore. We’d been inseparable in college, chasing after cute boys and cheap food. We wore each other’s clothes and styled each other’s hair. After we graduated, we moved into a loft downtown and made a pact to always live together.
Closer than sisters, we had it all planned out: After we married, we would be next-door neighbors. We wanted to conceive children at the same time so they could grow up together and be best friends, like us. On Fridays, our husbands would watch the kids so we could have a girls’ night out. We even picked out two McMansions in Sherwood Forest, with three-car garages and swimming pools in the backyard.
But things changed when Chantel met her husband, Kyle. While they were dating, he had a habit of showing up at her job at the The Detroit News for surprise lunch dates. He also came to our apartment unannounced. When I warned her that his behavior seemed a bit possessive, she laughed it off and said, “He wouldn’t act this way if he didn’t really love me.”
They got married at City Hall and left Detroit the next morning. Kyle worked as a flight officer for the Navy and they’d lived everywhere, from Fort Worth, Texas to Seoul, South Korea. Now, ten years and three kids later, I didn’t speak to Chantel often beyond birthday cards, sporadic text messages, and holiday phone calls. When we did talk, she always asked about my love life and made sure to fill me in on the marital bliss I was missing out on.
Still, as much as she bragged about their perfect marriage, I could tell she wasn’t happy. In her recent Facebook posts, I could see that she’d ballooned to nearly 300 pounds. Her smile looked strained, and she was always posting lengthy prayers of serenity. She’d even changed her relationship status to “It’s complicated” the month before; it stayed that way for a few hours before she switched it back to “Married.”
I scrolled through the screen on my cell phone to read Chantel’s message: “I am picking 11 people who have touched my life & who I think would want to receive this. Please send it back to me. REMEMBER 2 make a wish B4 you read the prayer. That’s all you have to do. There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the 4th day. Try not to break this and please forward the message.”
I felt sorry for Chantel. I believe in the power of God, but I was relatively certain that forwarding a text message had no sway with the Man Upstairs. Mama taught me that there’s no substitution for prayer, so at that moment, I prayed that Deandre was, truly, the good man I’d been waiting for. Lord knows I didn’t want to end up in a fake marriage like Tisha and Frank’s or a troubled marriage like Chantel and Kyle’s.
The gate agent announced on the loudspeaker, “Now boarding Flight 1823 to Atlanta.”
So, just like that, we were up, up and away…
CHAPTER 10
I lay on the king-sized bed in my spacious hotel room at the Omni. From the twenty-first floor, I could see the sparkling lights of the downtown Atlanta skyline. The room was fully equipped with everything from a forty-inch, flat-screen TV to a spa-quality rain showerhead. Still, I would have happily given up those luxury accommodations to be with Deandre, even if we had to check into some fleabag, roadside motel.
I spent the whole day at the NABJ Conference, going to panel discussions and exchanging business cards. I tried to be pleasant while I was networking, but my thoughts of Deandre were overwhelming. I was too distracted to remember details about anyone I met, and I kept checking my cell phone every few minutes. So far, he had only sent two messages: “Corey is feeling better,” and “I miss U, Reese’s.” I called him from my cell and from the hotel phone, but he had yet to return my calls.
I thumbed through the room service menu, trying to decide between crab cakes with wild rice and mixed vegetables and porterhouse steak with mashed potatoes and asparagus. I was confident that a Caesar salad, a basket of buttered rolls, a delicious entrée, a glass of wine, and a dessert would cheer me up; I had my eye on the chocolate mousse cheesecake. The tab was going to be expensive, but tending to my blues was more important than watching my budget.
When the hotel phone rang, I rushed to the bedside table to answer it. “Hello?” I said, hoping to hear good news and some sweet words from Deandre.
“Hey, Kai,” Frank said.
“Oh. What do you want?”
“I’m calling to ask if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight.”
“What about Tisha?”
“She’ll be there, too, along with her friend, Vaughn.”
“Frank, really. You’re unbelievable. How could you, of all people, invite me on a double-date? You know I’m with someone. Or is that why you’re doing this?”
“It’s just a friendly dinner. I respect that you’re involved in something…serious with Deandre.”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name right.”
“You might be surprised to know that I’m happy for you. I’m glad you’ve found somebody you really care about. This whole double-date thing was Tisha’s idea, but I told her you wouldn’t be feelin’ it.”
“I bet.”
“Anyway, I don’t know the first thing about this Vaughn character, but I figured it’d be good to have him there, so you don’t feel like a third wheel. The limo will pick us up downstairs in half an hour, if you’re coming?”
“No thanks.”
“You sure? We’re going to that Brazilian steakhouse in Buckhead, Fogo de Chão.”
“Yeah, and it’s my treat.”
“It had better be.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Okay.”
“I knew I’d convince you to come out and play. We’ll meet you in the lobby at 8:15.”
As soon as I hung up with Frank, I called Deandre again.
This time, he answered, “What’s up, Reese’s?”
“Hey! How’s everything with your little boy?”
“Corey’s back home now.”
“I’m really glad to hear that.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’ve been trying to call you, and I know you’ve got a lot going on, but—”
“How is Atlanta?” he asked, cutting me off.
“It would be better if you were here. I miss you.”
“How much?”
“I’d rather show than tell.”
“Your voice makes me so hard, Reese’s. If I was up in that hotel room with you, what would you do to me?”
“Hmm. Well, I’d start off by kissing your lips, soft and slow, and then I’d unzip your pants and grab your dick with both of my hands and—”
“Reese’s—”
“Then, I’d glide my tongue over every inch of your dick and take it all the way in my mouth.”
He moaned.
“I would suck you good and hard, till you were ready to explode, and then I would climb on top of you and ride you—”
“God, I love seeing your titties bounce in the air. Where would you let me cum?”
“Inside.”
“Mmm. That’s what I’m talking ‘bout. Damn, I miss you.” He paused. “Reese’s, uh…I got another call. Gotta go. I’m sorry, but I need to take this.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m about to leave in a few minutes myself.”
“I might just have to catch a flight down there tomorrow so you can finish what you started.”
“Ooh, I’d love that!”
“I’ll call you later. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Bye, sexy.”
My panties were still moist from my steamy phone chat with Deandre as I decided what to wear. I slipped into an orange, spaghetti-strap sundress, a brown blazer, and high-heeled sandals. The outfit would have been out of the question at that time of year in Michigan, but the forecast for Atlanta was warm and humid, seventy-four degrees. I styled my hair into an up-do and sprayed on a bit of perfume. I felt as sexy as I looked.
