by Zuri Day
“I forgot to tell you that your sister called.”
“When?” Dominique asked, immediately thinking that something may have happened to Justin.
“Just about ten minutes ago, when you stepped away from your desk.”
“Thanks, Reggie.”
“Oh, and your two o’clock canceled. Said she’s sick.”
“Again?”
“I know. Drama.” He rolled his eyes and returned to his desk.
Dominique quickly dialed her sister’s number. “Faith, it’s me.”
“Hey, Sis.”
“Reggie said you called. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. The kids are over at Mama’s.”
Dominique exhaled a relieved breath. “She’ll bring Justin home.”
“Physically, I’ve healed but emotionally... it’s still touch and go.” Faith had been three months pregnant when she miscarried what would have been her and Aaron’s third child. It didn’t matter that the embryo had barely been an inch long when she lost it; she’d loved it as much as twelve-year-old Michael and eight-year-old Alexis.
“It’s going to take awhile, Faith. Don’t expect too much of yourself.”
“Aaron’s been great. We know we’ll get through it, just taking it day by day.” The women were silent as they pondered the preciousness of life. “So,” Faith said into the silence, “you’re probably wondering why I called you in the middle of the day.”
“Yes.”
“It’s about a friend of Aaron’s and before you put your blocks up, let me tell you about him.”
“Really, Faith—”
“He’s a nice guy, Nikki,” Faith argued, calling Dominique by the name that only the family was allowed to use.
“I’m sure he is but I’m not interested. And it’s not for the reasons you think.”
“Oh really? Then why is it?”
Dominique was grateful that Faith had brought up the subject of men. It made her feel it was okay to talk to her about Jake. “Because me and Justin’s football coach had dinner last night.”
“Who, what, when, where, why?” Faith gushed, running the words together the way they used to as hormonal preteens and teenagers about to share a juicy story. Dominique heard more joy in Faith’s voice than she’d heard in a while, definitely since the miscarriage. “Well, don’t keep me waiting, sister... tell me more!”
Dominique giggled and soon it was like old times when these sisters shared secrets about stolen kisses and school-boy crushes. Except for Dominique this wasn’t your average attraction. The more she talked the more she acknowledged that what she felt for Jake didn’t happen every day. For her it had never happened before. Not like this.
12
Dominique stood in front of the floor-length mirror in her master suite. She was looking at her fourth wardrobe choice, a streamlined blouse and pencil skirt that were precariously close to joining three other choices in the reject pile. Why is nothing working for me tonight? Probably because I feel like a frick-ing teenager going on her first date. She’d heeded her own desires and her sister’s advice and called Jake. He’d been pleasantly surprised to hear from her and even though the second game of the season was tomorrow at noon, immediately accepted her invitation to get together tonight. She’d suggested meeting at his place, and this is where Reggie’s advice came in. Screw that brothah’s brains out and let him return the favor. She wanted to go over there, get her groove on, and get the lust for this man out of her system. “This is about two adults handling the business of being attracted to each other,” she’d explained, after voicing her meeting choice. “I don’t want or expect anything more.” But Jake had insisted on making an evening of it, saying he’d pick her up at eight, and told her to dress sexy. Dominique took another look in the mirror and blew out an exasperated breath. The blouse and skirt weren’t the look either. She walked to the dress rack in her large, walk-in closet. Her eyes fell on one toward the back that she’d purchased on impulse and never worn. “Of course!” she said aloud. That one is perfect! She quickly slipped into the silky number and pulled a pair of three-inch stilettos from the shoe rack.
As she stepped into them, Justin burst into the room with a football under his arm and a pack strapped on his back. “When is Grandma coming?”
“She should be here soon, Justin. What about your room? Is it clean?”
“Kinda.” Then he fixed her with the big brown eyes and crooked smile that melted her heart and Dominique decided not to force the issue, even though she knew that looking under his bed would probably require searchlights and tracking equipment. When she told him to put things away, that’s often where they got shoved. Many items weren’t found until Tessa’s weekly cleaning, only to sometimes be lost again in no time flat.
Justin watched Dominique put on her heels and walk over to her jewelry collection. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere special, just out with a friend.”
“Who?”
“Why are you being so nosy?”
“You know where I’m going.”
“I’m supposed to; I’m the parent.”
Justin watched his mother apply powder and mascara, and then cocked his head to the side. “Is it with Coach Mac?”
Dominique hid her surprise behind a spritz of Vera Wang. “Why would you think that?”
Justin shrugged. “Dunno. I really like him though. Sometimes...”
Further conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. Justin ran out to answer it and Dominique’s mother, Anita, her nephew, Michael, and her niece, Alexis, walked through the door.
“You look nice,” Anita said, after hugging her daughter. Unlike Dominique, Anita was of average height and on the slender side. The big-boned side of the family came from Dominique’s dad. “Big date tonight?”
“No.” Again, Dominique felt defensive. She knew she shouldn’t. It was a perfectly legitimate question to ask, considering how she was dressed. But she’d sworn Faith to secrecy and didn’t want to tell Anita about what Dominique knew would be a temporary dalliance. “I’m meeting friends for dinner.”
“You’re pretty dressed up,” Anita said, eyeing Dominique from head to toe. “Must be some kind of friends.”
“Where’s Faith?” Dominique asked, to change the subject, though she knew the answer.
“She’s at home, waiting for us. I told her I would pick up Justin since I was coming over here anyway.”
“She all right?”
Anita nodded, with a look that let Dominique know that they would talk later when little pictures with big ears weren’t around. “While I was at the doctor’s I let the kids play at the mall. Michael took very good care of his sister.”
Dominique looked at Michael. “Aw, isn’t that nice.”
Michael rolled his eyes, though one could tell he was proud of the compliment.
“How’s the acupuncture going?” Dominique had been surprised when Anita had told her about a doctor who’d been recommended to help with back pain she’d suffered since being broadsided a year ago. Since then she hadn’t worked, and was receiving disability.
“I can tell the difference, Dominique,” Anita said, a big smile on her face. “I thought that short of a miracle I’d have to either endure pain or take medication the rest of my life. But my dosages have been reduced by half and I’ve started walking for exercise again.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, Mama.” Dominique hugged her mother.
“Speaking of happy, you give anymore thought to what I told you last week?”
Instead of commenting, Dominique reached for her son and gave him a hug. “Be good, baby. Don’t give Mama or Auntie any trouble, no back talk and no fighting!” Michael and Justin loved each other like cousins but fought like brothers—mainly arguments, though Dominique had broken up a wrestling match or two. “Michael, Alexis, come hug Aunt Nikki.”
Ten minutes after her son and family left, the doorbell rang again. Dominique placed a hand ag
ainst her stomach to still the flutters. In her profession, she was constantly seeing attractive men. Justin’s father was handsome. But her body had never reacted this way to anyone. Until now.
She walked to the door, opened it, and immediately wondered where the air went. Jake looked as he had the evening of the benefit—tall, confident, and sexy as hell. A bona fide fashionado, Dominique quickly took in the tailored black suit, stark white shirt open at the collar, and the effectively understated platinum jewelry. There was also a large spray of fragrant roses in his left hand, but their scent was not nearly as intoxicating as Jake’s darkening eyes, square jaw, and plush lips. He licked them, and Dominique felt moisture that was not created by the Santa Ana heat. A need arose—sudden and powerful. A need to be touched, held, kissed... loved.
Realizing that not one word had passed between them, Dominique leaned against the door. “Hey, Jake.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the alluring woman before him. He doubted she realized the picture she painted, wide hips and part of a luscious breast resting against the door, accenting curves so sharp she should have been required to wear a caution sign. Eyes darkened with desire, mirroring his own. Lips painted with a color evoking berries that he wanted to lick off. She was wearing another one of those form-fitting dresses, the kind that had him needing more room in the groin area of his slacks. A lot of oversized women wore black, but not this chick. This dress was tan with a subtle abstract design that caressed her thighs before flaring out just above the knee. Her muscled calves were shapely and the tall, strappy sandals minimized the reality of her size 10 feet.
“Hey, Nick.”
Dominique fixed him with a look.
“Ms. Clark.” Jake presented the flowers.
“Thanks, Jake. They’re lovely. Would you like to come in while I put them in a vase?”
Without waiting for his answer, Dominique turned and walked into her living room. Later Jake would swear his blood pressure rose a notch as he watched her luscious backside sway from side to side encased in that soft, flimsy material that he felt he could tear off with one good pull—and wanted to.
Dominique walked over to where a collection of vases sat on a shelf, trying to rein in the fire that burned down below. Her legs were shaky, and it took a Herculean effort for her to casually reach for one of the larger vases to fill with water.
Jake’s control wasn’t as strong. Her butt cheeks winked at him with each step she took. They were like twin magnets, pulling him forward. When she turned around, he was right behind her. “You look good, Dominique.”
Their bodies were separated by inches; his shaft grew by inches.
“Uh, you look good too, Jake.” Dominique attempted to walk around him.
But no go. Jake reached out and grabbed her arm. “I want to kiss you.”
By now, a light could have been turned on by the electricity flowing between them. “Maybe later,” Dominique answered, surprised at the breathlessness of her voice.
“Maybe now,” Jake replied.
He took one step, his thick, juicy lips hovering mere inches from Dominique’s berry-colored ones. She closed her eyes and instantly was pulled into his arms. Their bodies melded together in perfect symmetry, as if they’d been designed for each other. Jake wrapped his arms tighter around her, pressed a strong tongue inside willing lips, and deepened the exchange. Dominique sighed contentedly. The forgotten vase fell to the carpet as she wrapped her arms around combed wool and broad shoulders, drowning in spearmint-flavored mouthwash and musky cologne. Jake tilted his head and continued the assault. His tongue mimicked the act of lovemaking as his hands introduced themselves to Dominique’s curves. They came to rest at the crest of her ample rear asset, and Jake groaned with pleasure. With his large hands and size fourteen shoes, he rarely experienced more than a handful. His wife had been five foot five and the few tall women he’d dated had been thin, where he felt he could lift them over his head with one hand. But now he realized what it felt like to have a whole lot of wonderful woman in his arms, a piece of plus-sized paradise on his hands. It was as if her body had been made for him, because when he pressed his hardening erection against her, it fit just right.
“Nick,” he whispered into her mouth, as he slid a hand up her stomach and squeezed a juicy tit. He rubbed his hand across the silky fabric and was rewarded with the feel of a nipple hardening beneath his touch. Again, there was more than a handful for him to play with, and he longed to feel the weight of her loveliness bare and in his hands. Not able to hold back the suspense any longer, he slipped his hand inside the plunging neckline, flicked his thumb across a perfectly formed areola, just right for sucking. His mouth watered.
Dominique gasped. “Jake.”
The sound was like a starter’s gun at a sprinters’ race. Jake broke the kiss, reached for Dominique’s hand, and walked them over to the off-white leather sectional that dominated the room. He pulled her down beside him, reclaiming her mouth, fingers reaching for her breasts to continue where they’d left off. Dominique was vaguely aware of caution lights and warning bells ringing inside her head, but so muted were they by the haze of desire that instead of pulling back, she reached forward, placed a hand on the chest she’d dreamed of a thousand times and ran her hand across his manly physique. Her hand lowered to a taut waist, and lower still. Wow! Is this for real? Jake ground himself against her hand. “It” was very real, and still growing. Something inside exploded, in both of them, and soon suit jacket, dress, pants, shirt, and shoes were scattered near the sectional. Lips and hands sought and found, squeezed, devoured. The language of love was the only one spoken. The moment was one unto itself, with neither player seeming to control their own actions. It was meant to be. This was going to happen, like an earthquake rumbling near the planet’s core, or a volcano simmering in the depths of a distant cave—inevitable. Sensations tore through both of their bodies. They were on fire, like the volcano; shaken, like the quake. Jake positioned them horizontally and then stretched out on top of her. Dominique welcomed his massive weight, and spread her legs so that his shaft was nestled against her heat. She reached around and palmed the hard, round butt that she’d admired since day one, caught her breath as Jake sucked a hardened, lace-covered peak into his mouth. They rubbed their bodies against each other, hands moving, exploring, conducting one very serious get-to-know. It was as though Jake couldn’t get enough of the feel of her as he turned them to the side so that he could rub his hand across the soft ripples along her stomach, over her ample hip, and around to the mountainous gluteus max-imus that had put him in the trance that started this dance. He squeezed the soft, juicy cheek. His heart almost stopped right then. His shaft became even more engorged. Jake thought he’d burst and Dominique thought she’d die from anticipation. Taking the lead, she reached between them, gathered his massive weapon into her hand, and began stroking it.
“Do you have condoms?” she whispered.
Jake nodded, blindly reaching for the slacks that contained his wallet. Without breaking the kiss he retrieved them, blindly reached inside until he felt foil. “Let’s go to your bedroom.”
“No, here is fine.”
Jake stopped and looked into Dominique’s eyes. What is up in your bedroom? Evidence of another man? But the moment was too fragile and too beautiful for him to press further. Instead he pulled the T-shirt over his head. Taking his lead, Dominique reached behind her and undid her bra. Her girls came out swinging, begging for attention. Jake leaned over and once again claimed a round, hard nipple. He kneaded the other with his hand, rubbed it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. Dominique stroked his massive manhood, tracing its mushroom tip through his cotton boxers.
Jake stood, and dropped his drawers. If this were a movie the moment would have warranted a special effect.
Dominique pulled off her panties. She rolled to the side, exposing her butt, and Jake swore he heard Usher. Oh. My. God.
Jake handed Dominique the condom and
she rolled it on his shaft as if his dick was a rare find in an art museum. In her mind it was damn sure a piece of work. “Ooh.” She positioned herself on the edge of the sectional, her legs spread wide in silent invitation.
The feeling was exquisite as Jake slowly, purposefully, slid his massive girth inside her. Dominique spread her legs farther to accommodate his size but it still took a moment. When he’d finally settled his body fully against hers, he whispered one word in her ear. “Nick.” Then he began stroking.
And to Dominique Clark it didn’t matter that he’d called her by that name twice in one evening. She didn’t care at all.
13
Jake and Dominique made fast love on the couch before she quietly took Jake’s hand and led him upstairs to the master suite. There, Jake McDonald went where no man had ever gone before—to the king-size, four-poster canopied bed. The place reserved for “the one.” He sexed her again and again and this last time the orgasm felt as though it began at her toes and shot clean through her cranium. Jake thought he’d never stop throbbing.
He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hands over sweaty skin that was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. “What just happened?”
“The earth moved,” Dominique answered, too sexually satisfied to think of a clever, ambiguous retort. She’d been married to one man, lived with another, and partnered with a few others in her three-plus decades on earth. But never, ever, had a man rocked her world off its axis the way Jake McDonald had just done. Her cootchie still quivered from memories alone.
Jake’s laugh was deep, knowing, spilling out like the joy of a first place runner doing the victory lap. “I take it that you don’t mind that the evening’s plans changed.”
Dominique turned on her side and spooned her behind against Jake’s flaccid penis. “Do I look like I minded?”
Few words had been spoken during their one-hour lovemaking session. Aside from commands such as “spread your legs,” “touch me there,” “deeper,” “more,” and “harder,” their bodies had done the talking. But now, in the aftermath, the lovers’ haze lifted, Dominique realized that there were some pretty important issues they probably should talk about. Like the fact that even as mind-blowing and earth-shaking as the sex with Jake had been, there was no way that they could continue to see each other. She had taken Reggie’s advice and screwed Jake’s brains out. But obviously part of hers remained as she thought somberly, This can never happen again.
