by Marilyn Lee
“Mom is a gorgeous, natural blonde with green eyes, which is probably why she couldn't hold my father's attention or affection for very long. He prefers black women too.”
“So you're like your father in that respect.”
“Somewhat, but unlike him, I have no intentions of marrying a white woman to please anyone.”
“No. You have no intentions of marrying a woman of any color, do you?”
“I don't think marriage is necessary to be happy.”
“What happens when you fall in love with a black woman who won’t settle for anything less than marriage?”
“I'll worry about that when and if it happens.”
“You don't think you'll fall in love?”
“I'd like to, but I haven't yet.”
“What do you have against marriage?”
He shrugged. “I haven't had a very good example. My parents are still married to each other, but they are both in long-term relationships with other people. I have a brother and sister as a result of those extramarital relationships. You've met Damien.”
“He's your half-brother?”
“Half-brother?” He shook his head. “We have a different mother, but he is my brother. Period. There's no half in our family. We're all one big, happy family. Hell, my parents live within miles of each other in Jamaica and the four of them have been known to go on vacation together.”
She blinked. “You mother and her ... partner and your father and his partner vacation together?”
He laughed. “Yes, no need to look so shocked. They’re all friendly with each other, but it’s not as if their swap partners or anything.”
“Oh. Well, that must make for ... interesting vacations.”
“Oh, it does.”
“Well ... you and Damien look so much alike when I first saw him, I thought he was you.”
“He's nine years younger than I am. Our sister is even younger. She and I have the same mother. My parents are very happy with their respective lovers, but feel no pressing need to get married. My father's been in love with Damien's mom for over thirty-one years. As far as I know, he's never strayed during that time.”
“And Damien's mom is content to have spent so much time with a man who's still married to another woman?”
“The last time I saw her, Velva looked very happy. My mother is happy in her relationship which has lasted over twenty years.”
“It sounds like your parents and their lovers have an ... ideal relationship.”
“They think so.”
She flashed him a brief smile she hoped hid her opinion of his parents' relationships. How could a woman in love be content in a long-term relationship with a man who didn't care enough to marry her?
“Never mind my parents.” He reached for her hand.
She slipped it into his.
“I'd rather talk about us.”
“Is there much to talk about? We have very different thoughts about love and marriage.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but they don't have to be mutually exclusive. You believe you can marry without love and be content. I believe you can be happy without marriage.” He smiled. “We might need to file that information away for future use.”
Why bother?
“So. Darbi. Tell me about your parents and your siblings.”
“My parents were happily married for thirty years before my father died five years ago. I don't have any siblings.”
“Aren't you the lucky one?”
She shook her head. “I wish I did.”
“How is your mom doing without your father?”
“It's been a difficult time for her, but she's finally coming to terms with the fact that he's gone. She's living in Orlando now, sharing a house with my aunt.”
“And what does she expect of you?”
“She doesn't put any pressure on me, but I know she'd like to see me happily married with a kid or two. She took the break up with Martin almost as hard as I did.”
“Why?”
“Martin represented everything most black mothers want for their daughters. He was a handsome, successful, educated straight black man going places. She was devastated when he decided I wasn't going with him.”
“I guess your mother wouldn't be happy to hear you're dating me.”
“She's not prejudiced, Clay.”
He arched a brow.
“No, Clay, really. She's not. Don't you think it's normal for parents to want their kids to marry within their own particular culture?”
“Don't say culture when we both know you mean race, Darbi.”
“Clay --”
“No, Darbi, you mean race.”
“Okay. Race, but that's normal.”
He shrugged. “My own family notwithstanding, I get your point. My maternal and paternal grandparents both wanted that for my mom and dad.”
“Good. I wouldn't want you to think badly of my mother.”
He smiled. “How could I think badly of the woman who gave you life?”
She smiled. “You're very sweet.”
“You make that sound like a compliment.”
“It is.”
“Then I'm flattered. Maybe I'll get to meet your mother one of these days.”
As things stood between them, she couldn't see any occasion for introducing Clay to her mother. “Maybe.”
“You don't sound very optimistic.”
“Well, it's just that if I introduced you two she'd think we were serious.”
“Aren't we?”
“Yes, but only on a temporary basis. My mom is not the type of mom I could expect to be happy if I told her I'd moved in with a man. She'd want to know why I was willing to live with a man who wasn't willing to marry me.”
“Wouldn't your feelings count with her? What if you were happy with that arrangement?”
“I wouldn't be happy with such an arrangement, Clay. I know it's extremely old-fashioned of me, but I'm not the living together kind of woman.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
He nodded. “I'll be sure not to ask you to move in with me.”
That wasn't quite the response for which she'd been hoping. She gave him a cool look. She knew where he stood.
He shook his head. “Don't look at me like that, Darbi. We've both been honest about our feelings and what we want and expect out from our relationship.”
“I know I pursued you, but should we continue with this?”
“What? This conversation?”
“No. This ... relationship. We both want things that are so different --”
He reached across the table and closed his hand over hers. “Not seeing you now is out of the question, Darbi. So let's not even go there.” He glanced towards the dance floor. “Will you dance with me?”
“Yes.”
Moving around the dance floor with his big, warm hands sliding along her shoulders, she closed her eyes. The combination of the soft lights, the romantic music, and his cologne lulled her into a world where she could pretend she danced with a man who loved her and wanted her to have his babies. Hmm. A man who loved her enough to want to commit to her forever. A man willing to prove that commitment by asking her to marry him.
“Forever's a long time.”
Darbi blinked and lifted her head from Clayton's shoulder. She looked up at him. “What?”
“I said forever's a long time.”
Oh, lord. Had she spoken aloud? “For what?”
“I asked how much longer you wanted to dance and you said forever and I said that's a long time.”
“Oh.” She laughed, relieved. “I'm sorry. I was in another world.”
“Nice place?”
She stroked her hands over his chest. “Yes.”
“Nice people?”
She nodded.
He caressed her cheek. “Yeah? Was I there with you?”
Had he been the man holding her? Had he been the man who wanted to marry her and father her children? Or had her lover been
the ebony knight whose arrival she still awaited? “I don't know, but you're here with me now.”
He pressed his thumb against her lips. “Yes, I am.”
She leaned into him, staring up into his eyes. “And I'm glad you are.”
“So am I.” His slow, warm smile sent a tingle of anticipation through her.
“Take me home, Clay and take me to bed.”
Chapter Six
Darbi was surprised at how easily the conversation between them flowed on the thirty-minute drive to her apartment. They talked about politics and sports, discovering their mutual love for football and basketball. “I have season tickets for the Eagles and Sixers. I'd love to have you accompany me to home games for both.”
She smiled, pleased that he expected to still be in her life several months down the road when the football and basketball seasons started. “It's a date.”
“Good.” He parked his car in her extra parking space and got out to open the passenger door for her.
She resisted the urge to slip her hand in his or to lean against him. The knowledge that she'd soon be leaning against his nude, aroused body made her hot.
Inside her apartment, she led him into the living room. She moved across the room to the small bar along the wall by the patio doors. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“No thanks.”
She turned to face him. “Dance with me?”
He nodded and crossed the room to her. She picked up a remote control, started a soft jazz CD, and lowered the lights before turning into his arms with a soft, satisfied sigh.
He pressed his hands against her bare back and drew her close.
She linked her arms around his neck and looked up at him. “You're probably used to my shameless behavior by now so I'll come right out and say I want to go to bed now.”
“I'm always willing and ready to take you to bed.” He released her.
She took his hand and led him from the living room through the dark apartment to her bedroom. The door was open and the moonlight shining through the parted curtains at the balcony doors provided the only illumination in the room.
He unzipped her dress and while raining soft, biting kisses along her neck and shoulders, he pushed the dress off her shoulders to her waist. He lifted his head from her neck and reached around her body to unhook her bra. He tossed the black silk and lace bra aside and pressed a moist kiss against each of her breasts, making her nipples harden.
“You have such lovely breasts, sweetheart.”
She stroked her fingers through his hair. “And you have such sweet lips.”
He sucked briefly at each nipple before he slid his hands down her body and pushed the dress over her hips. When it fell to her feet, she kicked it aside, followed by her heels.
They removed her pantyhose together, leaving her standing before him in her black thong. She gripped the waistband.
“No. Leave them on.”
She wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but she nodded. “Okay.” She smiled at him, cupping her hand over his groin. “Your turn. Shall I undress you?”
“No. You’ll take too long.” As he spoke, he began to quickly remove his clothes. In moments, he was naked and semi-erect.
She smiled, as she allowed her gaze to feast on him. Not only was he fit and tanned, but there wasn’t an ounce of excess weight on his big body. She stroked her hands over his chest. “You are such a hunk. I feel so lucky you’re attracted to me.”
“Lucky? If anyone’s lucky, it’s me. You’re beyond beautiful.”
“Maybe so, but nowhere near as physically perfect as you are.”
He arched a brow. “Are you serious?” He cupped her breasts in his hands. “I’d lock you up and force feed you if you attempted to lose a single ounce.”
“Oh, Clay, you know how to make me feel so sexy.”
“You are sexy, honey, so that’s not a difficult task.”
She linked her arms around his neck and pressed a long, warm kiss against his mouth. He slipped his arms around her body, resting his palms against her ass.
They stood near the bed, kissing and caressing, sensuously rubbing their groins together. Her passions rising and her pussy aching, she broke away from him. Eager to feel him sliding inside her, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and gently pumped him.
Slipping her other hand under his cock, she cupped her palm around his balls. When she ran a thumb over the thick head of his shaft and felt several drops of pre-cum, she dropped to her knees, and pressed her face against his groin.
She liked the feel of his pubic hair pressing against her cheek. She turned her head and licked his balls, while gently pumping him. Urged on by his husky groans, she slid her tongue along the underside of his cock before popping the head between her lips. She swirled her tongue around the big head, loving the feel of him inside her mouth.
“Oh, damn, that enough! I need to be inside you.” He reached down and pulled her to her feet. He led her to the bed and urged her onto her back.
She watched with breathless anticipation as he rolled a condom onto his cock. He looked around the room briefly before turning to face her. “Lube?”
Lube? Was he finally going to fuck her ass? Her heart raced and her pussy flooded. “In the bottom drawer of the night table,” she whispered.
Armed with the lube, he smiled at her. “Ready to be loved?”
“Oh, yes.” She rolled onto her stomach, parted her legs, and cupped her hands over her bottom. “I like to lie on my stomach with you on top of me.”
He kneeled on the bed between her legs and kissed the backs of her thighs.
She shivered. “That feels nice.”
“It’s about to get nicer, sweetheart.”
He rose onto his knees again and lifted her right foot. “You have pretty feet,” he told her.
She smiled and closed her eyes as he held her foot and kissed each of her toes. Delicious eddies of pleasure fluttered through her as he turned her on her back and kissed his way up from her foot, past her knee to her cunt. He paused briefly to lick and gently suck at her clit before kissing his way down the opposite leg.
After treating her other toes to a sensuous suck, his hands descended on her hips. He turned her back onto her stomach. His warm, insistent lips moved over her ass in a series of circles that caused the muscles in her stomach to ripple.
“Lift your hips for me, honey.”
Keeping her eyes closed, she obeyed. He pushed what felt like two pillows under her hips. She allowed him to arrange them as he liked before she settled against the pillows.
She kept her eyes closed, wanting to be surprised by whatever he did to her next. She moaned softly when he rose and gently parted her cheeks and slipped a lubed finger into her bottom.
Nipping and licking at her ass cheeks, he gently fingered her.
“Oooh. Oh, Clay.”
He slid his lips downward until she felt his lips against her pussy. He slid another finger into her bottom and sucked at her pussy.
A shock of delight sizzled through her. “Oooh, Clay. Clay!”
Still finger fucking her ass, he ate her pussy with an insistent, passionate intensity that had her arching her back and moaning in a mindless haze as her world blew apart, and she came against his probing lips and tongue.
He held her hips and pressed soft kisses against her pussy as she moaned her way through her climax. While the last waves of pleasure fled down her spine, he rose, pressed his cock against her upturned cunt, cupped his hands over her breasts, and thrust forward.
She shuddered and licked her lips as he slid nuts deep into her pussy with one slow, delicious movement. He settled his body against hers, kissed her neck, and thrust quickly in and out of her with a heated intensity that made her toes curl.
Lord, he knew how to fuck a pussy. Curling her hands into the sheet at her sides, she moaned with lust and desire as he fucked her from behind hard and fast. The combination of his weight on her body and the delectable movement of his pist
oning cock quickly sent her into another erotic haze.
Pushing her ass back against his groin, she shuddered and came. He groaned, tightened his hands on her breasts, and thrusting deep, he climaxed. He held her tight with his face pressed against her neck while he shuddered and groaned through his climax.
He lay on her for several minutes after he stopped coming. She tolerated his weight on her for as long as she could bear it before she reached back to stroke his thigh. “Clay?”
He lifted his head from her neck. “Am I getting too heavy, honey?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed her neck, withdrew his cock, and rolled off her.
She kicked the pillows aside and settled against the bed. “Don’t be. I love having you on top of me.”
He kissed her cheek. “Go to sleep.”
She rolled onto her side. He moved behind her. He pulled the cover up over them and tossed an arm over her waist, allowing the tips of his fingers to touch her pussy.
“Oh, Clay, I love having sex with you.”
“Making love,” he corrected.
So they were back to making love? Smiling, she settled her ass against his groin, and fell asleep.
Drowsy and happy, she opened her eyes when Clay slipped out of bed sometime later. She rolled lazily from her back onto her side, then sat up in surprise. He was reaching for his clothes. “Clay?”
He pulled on his briefs before looking at her. “Did I wake you? I'm sorry.” He sat on the edge of one of the chairs on either side of the patio doors and put on his socks.
“Why are you dressing?”
“I have to leave.”
She glanced at her bedside clock. “Why? It's only eleven thirty-five.” She smiled. “Do you turn into a pumpkin if you're not home by twelve?”
He laughed. “No, but I need to go home.”
“I could come with you.”
He rose and put on his pants. “I'd like that, but I have a houseguest.”
“A houseguest?” She bit her lip. “Male or female?”
He crossed the room to sit on the side of her bed. “Female.” He caressed her cheek. “My sister is staying with me. I can't tell her not to sleep around if I stay here with you all night or take you home with me.”
She sighed in relief. “Oh. Your sister.”
