“Hmmm. Hey, you’ve read all these books?”
“Not all of them, but I’m working on it.”
“You went to college, right? What’d you get a degree in? Reading books?”
He chuckled and smiled, showing off his gorgeous teeth. Triple daaaamn. “No, African American Studies.”
I twisted my mouth to the side. “Makes sense.”
He chuckled again. “So, today you pick your dress out, right?”
“Yeah, and you get fitted for your tux?”
“Yep.”
Then we stared at each other for a minute before I dropped my eyes, because shit, Neil was making me melt right where I stood. What the hell was this?
“Jo and Bridgette picking you up?” he asked.
I lifted my eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“You had breakfast yet?”
“No, I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
“You don’t? That’s not good.”
“I know. I need to do better.”
He gave me another smile. “Well, I’ma help you do better. Come on. Let me hook you up.”
I returned his smile as I followed him into the kitchen.
*****
“I can’t believe how good that egg-white omelet was! And he used this vegan cheese stuff. And that organic apple juice was the damn bomb!” I rambled, as I slid into the one-thousandth dress at Kelli’s Bridal Shoppe, a high-end boutique that specialized in plus-size wedding gowns. Those dresses were expensive as hell, but Jo was the one doing the swiping, so I was good with it.
My eyes surveyed my image in the mirror. This dress was like a fantasy in fabric form. It was a white mermaid gown with a sweetheart neckline, lacy straps, an illusion-style back, and it fit the hell out of my thickness, made me look hot. With a nice updo or my face framed in curls, I’d kill this wedding thing! But since my natural hair was short, that would require a weave or a wig.
I finally stepped out of the dressing room to get Jo’s and Bridgette’s feedback on the dress and flinched when they both started squealing at the same time.
“You look soooo beautiful!” Jo gushed. “This is the one! This is it! Right, Bridge?”
As Bridgette wiped her eyes, she mumbled, “Fucking defective tear ducts…” Then she sniffled, and said, “I feel like a proud mother. You look gorgeous, Sage. Gorgeous.”
With a big grin, I looked at myself in the standing mirror sitting outside the dressing room and nodded. “Yeah, this is definitely the one.” That was where I would also say, “Neil is gonna love it,” only Neil wasn’t marrying me for love, so he didn’t care what my dress looked like.
“It sure is. You-you’re glowing, Sage, and I’m glad you and Neil are getting along so well. He cooked for you? It’s almost like this marriage is a real one,” Jo said to my back, as I headed back into the dressing room.
“Yeah,” I muttered. She didn’t have to remind me of the fact that my life was pitiful and the only husband I could get was a fake one. Those thoughts already stayed in the front of my mind.
“So you’re retiring for real?! Or is this one of them Hov retirements?” I asked, through the dressing room door.
“Naw, this is real. It’s time. I put in more than enough work to let it go now. I’ma do some music producing, be more hands-on with McClain Films, get on Jo’s nerves being up under her. I’m done with the stage,” Everett answered.
“I’m happy for you, man, and you’re gonna break records with this abbreviated farewell tour you’re gonna do,” I said.
“Yeah, five cities, one night each? Those tickets are gonna sell out in seconds,” Nolan agreed.
“I hope so,” Everett said.
“That’s sharp, man. I wasn’t sure about the all-white thing, because you know I like a pop of color, but damn, that’s niiice,” Nolan said, as I stepped out of the dressing room and modeled the tux for him and Everett like a damn chick. Like this was Say Yes to the Tux or some shit.
“Thanks, Yves St. Hilfiger. Ev, what you think?”
“It’s nice, man. Real nice. That mug is legit.”
I looked at myself in the mirror, adjusted the white bow tie, and agreed, “Yeah, I think Sage’ll like it, too. She was firm on the all-white theme.”
Silence from my brothers.
I turned around to see them giving each other a look. “What?”
Everett, who was stretched out in his chair, shrugged. “Nothing. But, uh, you and Sage really getting along, huh? Y’all talking about the wedding and shit?”
“She lives with me, Ev.”
“Nigga, she just moved in with you. You act like she been there for months or something.”
“I wasn’t finished. She lives with me, and we’re getting married. I’m not supposed to talk to her? We can’t be friends?”
“Oh, shit! Y’all friends? Already?” Nolan asked, with a stupid-ass grin on his face. I didn’t care if we were identical. I’d never looked that damn silly in my life.
“Damn, y’all…you want me to hate her or something?” I asked, turning to look at myself in the mirror again. Detoxing, counseling, and working out had me looking fresh as hell.
“Naw…I just didn’t expect you to stick your tongue down her throat. That’s all I’m saying,” Everett said.
“What?!” Nolan shrieked.
I snatched my head around to look at Everett. “What are you talking about? You were spying on us?”
“How in the fuck I’ma spy on you in my own house, nigga?” Everett replied.
“Wait, wait, wait…you and Sage? Y’all fucking?!” Nolan asked, sitting on the edge of his seat. This idiot…
“A kiss ain’t fucking, Nole! And we were…we were just practicing for the wedding. You know, so shit won’t be awkward.”
“Y’all practicing for the honeymoon, too? How was her first night living with you? She practice sleeping in your bed?” Everett asked, with this dumb look on his face. Everett was a damn clown if I ever saw one.
I shook my head. “Y’all asked me to marry her, I’m tryna make the most of it, and you wanna fuck with me about it? Y’all some assholes for real.”
“I’m just messing with you, Neil. Hey, thanks again for this, and you know what? If y’all make something real outta this, I’m all for it. Sage ain’t a bad catch, and I know she gets bonus points with you for being born in Africa,” Everett said.
“I don’t know about all that…”
“Hmm, that was one hell of a kiss I saw, though.”
As I headed back into the dressing room, I thought, it sure in the hell was.
That kiss had me so hard, I damn near ran up out of that living room to keep her from noticing. Shit, I guess my dick worked for someone other than Emery Tatum Bledsoe, after all.
*****
My eyes were tired, but I had so much reading to catch up on. I had so much life to catch up on. I’d wasted a lot of years chasing peace in the bottom of bottles, feeling sorry for myself, punishing myself, trying to fix something that was irreparable. I had a lot of catching up to do, period.
The first thing I did when I heard the tapping on my bedroom door was to take off my glasses and rub my eyes. Then I said, “Come in.”
The door eased open, and Sage stepped inside just a little bit. My eyes swept up and down her body covered in a tank top and some little shorts. Her skin looked so soft. It’d been a long time…
“Um, I just wanted to say good night. I wasn’t sure if you were asleep. Your door was closed when I made it home,” she softly uttered.
“Not sleep, just reading. You had a good time dress-shopping?”
“Yeah, I always have a good time with my girls. But I’m tired. It’s been a loooong day, because we shopped for honeymoon clothes, too, then we ate and went to Bridgette’s and hung out. Um, did you know there was a honeymoon?”
“Yeah…in Palm Springs, right?”
“You’re okay with it? The honeymoon, I mean?”
“I’m good with it. I mean, friends can go on a
trip together, right?”
“Yeah…”
“And we’re friends, or on our way to being friends, right?”
Her eyes rounded the room and then she nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Are you good with a honeymoon? If not, we don’t have to go. Or you can go alone?”
“No…I’m good with it, but where—what about the sleeping arrangements? I mean…”
“Oh, I think Ev said it was a suite, so if there’s a couch, I can knock out on it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay…”
“We good on the honeymoon now?”
Her eyes scanned the room again. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
She stood there looking like she wanted to say something else, and finally voiced, “I guess I’ll go to bed now. Good night, Neil.”
“All right. Good night, Sage.”
She left, closing the door behind herself and I closed the book and my eyes, sighed, and tried to wipe the image of that unsure expression she always wore around me and the way she’d bite her top lip when she was nervous out of my mind. Because for some crazy reason, all of that was turning me on.
8
Five days before the wedding…
I unwrapped the hardcover copy of Sixty-Nine Sexual Positions for Adventurous Couples and turned it around for the guests to see. “Thanks, Yasmine!” I said to my friend-slash-client with as much enthusiasm as I had when I unwrapped the edible panties I got from Hera, the crotchless panties I got from my cousin Gracie, and the countless pieces of lingerie I got from nearly everyone else—everybody I was associated with was a damn freak! Add all that to the gushing congratulatory wishes I’d been getting since I stepped into the room in McClain Studios where the bridal shower was being held, and I felt like an enormous fraud. Hell, I was a fraud. Maybe I should’ve just taken my ass to Liberia, but I liked living with Neil. I liked being around him, and I liked the fact that I was marrying him. As far as fake husbands go, Neil wasn’t a bad catch, and shit, I liked him. Always had—whether he was drunk or sober. Like I said before, when my friends were securing their McClains, I secretly had my eye on the broken one, the one they all felt sorry for, wishing he’d get fixed, and he did.
I opened the last gift, a pink, fuzzy pair of handcuffs, thanked Ellis, one of my long-time clients, and breathed a sigh of relief when everyone took their eyes off me and started refilling their drinks and plates.
“Damn, you racked up on freaky shit. Makes me wish I’d had a shower,” Bridgette, who was sitting to my immediate right, said. “You need to donate some of this stuff to me.”
I shrugged and mumbled, “Take what you want. It’s not like I’ll be needing it.”
“You got like seven cock rings,” Jo, who was sitting on the other side of Bridgette, informed me.
“Oh, I don’t need those,” Bridgette said.
“Girl, you got enough inventory to open an online sex shop,” Jo suggested.
“Damn, I wish those crotchless panties were my size! Shit, I might take that ball gag home, though. See if Nole is into it.” That was Bridgette.
My phone pinged, and I was grateful for the distraction. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw that the text was from Neil: How’s the shower going? You get us a toaster? A Keurig? Some sheets?
Me: Actually, Bridgette gave us a really nice French press. Jo got us a panini maker. Almost everyone else got us freaky stuff, enough to make a small fortune if I sell it.
Neil: Why would you sell it?
Me: What else am I gonna do with it?
It took him a full minute to answer me: Use it.
What?!?!
Me: With who?
“Get off that phone, girl! Break time is over. We got like two more games to play,” Bridgette shouted from across the room.
I was so deep in that text conversation with Neil, I hadn’t noticed she’d moved away from me.
With a groan, I lifted from my chair and made my way to where she’d set up for the toilet paper wedding dress competition. By the time the shower was over, Neil still hadn’t replied to my text.
“Damn, this really is a lot of shit!” I said, as I brought the last of the shower gifts in from Sage’s car.
“Why didn’t you respond to my last text?” she asked. She was standing in the living room, her eyes on the pile of presents sitting in the middle of the floor. Something about her shyness around me was so sexy…
“What text?”
Lifting her eyes to mine, she raised an eyebrow. “The one where I asked you who I’m supposed to use this freaky shit with.”
“Well, that depends. What kind of freaky shit did you get?”
She shrugged. “A feather tickler, handcuffs, and throat-numbing spray, just to name a few.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Uh…Sage?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Friends sometimes have sex, don’t they? I mean, I know they do.”
Her eyes widened. “You wanna be the kind of friends that have sex? You-you wanna have sex with me?” she squeaked.
This time, I dropped my eyes, because this whole conversation was just bizarre and out of line and I didn’t even know why I was going there, but I couldn’t stop myself. So I said, “Yeah.”
“For real?” Her voice was even higher pitched. Her forehead, furrowed.
“Yeah. I’m attracted as hell to you, and we’re getting married, gonna be sharing our lives for the next three years at least, and shit, I’m a man. I have needs.”
“I figured you weren’t going to be celibate this whole time; I just thought you had you a woman you could go to for that.”
“Naw, I don’t mess around with women who are good with playing second anymore, because as my wife, you’d be first.”
“Oh…”
Then a thought hit me. “Wait, you don’t wanna have sex with me, do you? Shit, I’m sorry. I just assumed you did, and I don’t know why I assumed you did…”
“No! Hell no! That’s not it! I wanna have sex with you. I wanna fuck the shit outta your fine ass.” She capped that statement by smacking her hand over her mouth.
I grinned at her slip. “You’re fine, too.” I let my eyes drag up and down her body full of curves. “Yeah, you are absolutely, positively fine.”
“You need to stop playing with me. Are you just saying all this shit to fuck with me? To make me feel better about you having to be my mercy husband?”
“Not at all. Sage, I’m woke than a motherfucker. I have dedicated my life to the truth. I hate lies. I’m not lying. I want you in that way, but only if you want me. If you don’t, we can keep it platonic. I’m good either way.” Please say you want me, though.
“Didn’t I just say I wanna fuck the shit outta you? I just don’t want to be…”
“What? Wait, I don’t want you to think I’m tryna use you for sex. It’s not like that. This would have to be mutual. You’d have to want this, too.”
She shook her head. “I just said I want to! It’s not that I think you’re using me or trying to use me…”
“Well, what is it, then?”
With her eyes on me, she said, “Nothing.”
“No, what is it? Tell me.”
She sighed. “It’s…I’m just afraid that if I put my body in this, my heart will follow. That’s just how I’m wired. It’s all…it’s connected, and I habitually fall in love, or think I’m falling in love. That would be especially bad in this case, because the thing is, this isn’t real. I don’t want my heart broken. I’ve had enough heartbreak in my life already.”
“My shit is connected, too, Sage, and my heart has been broken before, broken like a motherfucker. So I’m running the same risk with my heart that you are with yours. And as far as this not being real? We can make it real.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. Anything else bothering you?”
“Yeah, um, I mean no, but when will
we…when do you wanna start…fucking?”
I chuckled. “Straight to the point, huh?”
She shrugged.
I thought about it for a moment, decided right damn now wasn’t the best answer, and said, “How about during the honeymoon? We could make it like a real honeymoon, you know?”
She smiled, and her smile was so damn pretty. “Okay.”
9
Four days before the wedding…
Neil: I’ma fuck you until you scream my name with a Liberian accent.
Me: Why do you think I can do a Liberian accent? Because I’m Liberian? That’s racist or something.
Neil: If you can’t do one, my dick is gonna give you the ability to do it. You can call me Superdick.
Then he texted me an airplane emoji and an eggplant emoji.
I giggled under my breath.
Me: You talking all this shit and I’m tryna find out if you can really handle this young pussy I got.
Neil: Who the hell is this? Where’s shy Sage at?
Me: Shy Sage leaves the building when it’s time to get down. That’s when Nasty Sage shows up.
Neil: I like Nasty Sage. She’s my kind of woman. Tell Nasty Sage I’ma eat her like she’s a plate of chicken and waffles.
“Ah!” I shrieked, making both Bridgette and Jo turn around and give me curious looks. They were getting manicures while I soaked my feet. I was into the pedicure stage, having already gotten my manicure. Bridgette wasn’t playing with this wedding week schedule. Tomorrow, we were supposed to be going to a luxury hair salon.
“What you laughing at back there?” Bridgette asked.
“Nothing,” I muttered. Then I answered his text: Aren’t you vegan, though? Should you be eating meat? Pussy is meat.
Neil: I’m actually an ovo-lacto vegetarian, but sometimes I’m a carnivore. I listen to my body. If my body craves fruit, I give it fruit. If it tells me to eat vegetables, that’s what I do. Right now, it’s telling me to eat pussy. Specifically, your pussy.
Let Me Free You (McClain Brothers Book 4) Page 4
