by Velvet
“How do you know that I’m not married?” she teased.
“Well, I didn’t see any rings. And if you have a boyfriend, that’s just a minor detail that we’ll deal with later,” he said with an air of confidence.
She couldn’t help but laugh. This guy was so full of himself. Usually arrogance was a serious turnoff, but his cockiness oozed a certain sex appeal that she found attractive. “I guess I could say the same thing about your girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a wife, girlfriend, or significant other,” he said, looking directly into her eyes.
“Neither do I,” she admitted.
“Well, I’m glad you don’t have a wife or girlfriend, because you never know these days,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I’m as straight as they come. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not homophobic. It’s just that I like men too much to go to the other side.”
He smiled. “Good. Now that we’ve established our sexual preferences and availability, when can I take you to dinner?”
Kennedy couldn’t believe the sudden turn of events. Just a short while ago, she was living vicariously through a character in a novel, and now she was talking to the man of her desires. She reached into the pocket of her smock and took out a pen, then tore off a piece of paper towel and jotted down her home number. “Call me.” She handed him the paper. She tried to turn around in the small space. “I need to get out of here and get back to work.” The need to use the bathroom had vanished for now, besides she couldn’t possibly go with Nigel in such close proximity.
He folded the number, put it in his pocket, and then stepped aside. As she squeezed past, he kissed the back of her neck.
Kennedy’s knees buckled as he nuzzled close behind. She could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her ass, and it felt good. For a scant moment, she thought about joining the Mile High Club, but it was too risky. Without turning around, she said, “Just so you know, I’m not into casual sex. Been there, done that, and frankly, I don’t like the empty feeling afterward.” She said it more for her benefit than for his. Kennedy needed to remind herself of her promise to wait and get to know a man before screwing him.
“Good, because I’m not a casual type of brother.”
“We’ll see.” She had dated men who agreed to refrain from having casual sex just to appease her, when in actuality they had no intention of waiting. She turned the latch on the door. “I think you should stay in here for a few seconds just in case one of my nosy coworkers is lurking about,” she said, referring to Monica.
“Okay. Talk to you soon, Kennedy,” he said softly.
He spoke her name with a familiarity that usually comes from years of togetherness. The sound of his voice was comforting and reassuring, a feeling that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe Nigel Charles was The One. For a minute, Kennedy was lost in the romantic fantasy of waltzing down the aisle to Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March”; then she snapped back to reality and thought, Don’t call Vera Wang just yet. For all I know, he’s the one alright, the one that’ll break my heart.
As she walked down the aisle, back to the lavatory up front, her thoughts returned to the Black Door again. Instead of sleeping with Nigel on the first date, I’ll get my freak on at the club and still keep my promise. That is, if we can find the place.
15
SETTLING INTO her new environment was proving to be more of a challenge than Tyler had anticipated. Although she had only seen glimpses of Jacob, due to his hectic work schedule, it was good being around her big brother again, but his wife was another story altogether. Naomi had relegated Tyler to the servants’ quarters above the kitchen, which wasn’t necessarily a bad arrangement since the accommodations in their Tudor-style home were more than adequate. Exquisite Tiffany stained-glass windows were spaced above the oriels, and the baroque woodwork throughout the room was striking. The furnishings were a throwback to another era. An antique fainting couch upholstered in ecru raw silk sat angled in one corner; a rolltop desk sat in the opposite corner. A queen-sized, oak sleigh bed covered with an ivory French lace duvet with matching pillows was the focal point of the room. The only piece of furniture out of place was Tyler’s old rickety drafting table, which she placed in front of the bay window. The table obstructed the window seat, but giving up the quaint seating area was a small price to pay for a great view while she worked. The window looked out onto the meticulously manicured back lawn complete with a rose garden and small reflecting pool.
She walked over and hung her artist smock in the armoire, then headed downstairs to the kitchen. The cherry-paneled back staircase was characteristic of the English Tudor style. Tyler stopped midstride and ran her hand along the raised wooden carving and thought it resembled folds of cloth. The house, with its ornate details and vaulted ceilings, was magnificent. Jacob’s childhood dream had been to one day own what he called a “Robin Leach” home. And from the looks of things, he was definitely living the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
The kitchen was quiet, with no signs of Naomi. Good. She’s gone, Tyler thought. She was starving and just wanted to fix a sandwich and go back to the drafting table. She had a lead on a freelance assignment and wanted to get cracking on the drawings for her upcoming interview. Furthermore, she wasn’t in the mood for another one of Naomi’s snide remarks. Naomi had been snippy with her since she moved in nearly a week ago. Tyler didn’t know what her sister-in-law’s problem was. It seemed as if Naomi had something to say, but didn’t quite know how to speak her mind.
Tyler opened the refrigerator and took out packages of smoked turkey, Swiss cheese, mayo, lettuce, and tomatoes. Turning around to put the ingredients on the counter, she ran smack-dab into Naomi.
“Excuse me, I didn’t hear you come in,” Tyler said, startled.
“It’s a little early for lunch, isn’t it?” Naomi commented in a snotty tone.
Tyler looked at her and wanted to say, It’s nearly eleven-thirty. Besides, what’s it to you? But instead she said, “It’s never too early for a turkey and Swiss sandwich with chips.” She smiled halfheartedly, trying to make nice.
Naomi didn’t respond. She just rolled her eyes, walked over to the cabinet, and took out a glass. “Excuse me,” she muttered, reaching around Tyler to get a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.
“You want a turkey sandwich?” Tyler offered.
Naomi shot her a look that read, If I want a sandwich in my house, then I’ll make it myself. “No, I do not.” She rolled her eyes again.
“Listen, Naomi,” Tyler spoke, but hesitated. She didn’t want to get into a confrontation with her sister-in-law, but if there was something on Naomi’s mind, Tyler wanted to know what it was. “Do you have a problem with me living here?”
Naomi’s back was facing Tyler, but as soon as those words filled the air, Naomi swung her head around. “Living here? Tyler, let’s get one thing straight.” She put her hand on her hip. “You’re not living here as in a long-term arrangement. You’re here strictly on a temporary basis, like a guest,” she said, putting emphasis on the word.
Tyler nearly dropped the mayonnaise on the floor. Naomi spoke with such venom that the tone rattled her. Tyler was stunned by Naomi’s rudeness. Naomi was speaking to her like she was some person off the street, instead of a family member. She stood there with her mouth agape, watching as Naomi flailed the bottle of water in midair.
“Look”—she forcefully put the glass on the counter—“Jacob probably didn’t tell you this, but you cannot live here permanently. Is that understood?”
Coming out of her trance, Tyler said, “I don’t intend on living here permanently. I’m only here until I get back on my feet.”
“Well, I hope you land like a cat.” Naomi twisted the cap on the bottle, put the water to her lips, and took a quick swig. “Because I don’t want any gay mess in my home.”
Tyler looked shocked, but she finally understood why Naomi had been treating her so badly. Naomi obviously didn’t approve of
Tyler’s sexual preference. “Gay mess? What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want you bringing no chicks up in my house and do whatever it is that you do, that’s what I’m talking about,” she said, finally airing her true feelings.
“Naomi, I wouldn’t dare do anything like that. I’m gay, not a slut. I don’t whore around. I’ve always had meaningful relationships, and when I’m not in one, I don’t have random sex,” she said, setting the record straight.
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Whatever. All I know is that you only have one month of free room and board.” Naomi had been waiting for the perfect moment to tell Tyler about her master plan, and now that she had gotten it off her chest, she felt better.
Tyler couldn’t believe her gall. Not only had Naomi just insulted her, her sister-in-law was living a life of leisure at the expense of her brother. While Jacob was working like a Hebrew slave, Naomi had the nerve to stand in the house that his hard-earned money was paying for and say that her stay had an expiration date. “You’re right. Jacob didn’t tell me anything of the sort.” Tyler put the mayonnaise on the counter. “What he told me was that his home is my home. How about that?” she spat out, unable to control her anger any longer.
“Well, this is our home, Jacob’s and mine. Not a family retreat! How about that?!” Naomi shouted back.
They stood there a few seconds glaring at each other like a matador and a raging bull, Naomi the aggressor, waiting for Tyler to charge ahead without a strategy. Tyler counted to ten and thought she’d better talk to Jacob before waging war with his irate wife.
“Look, Naomi, I don’t want to argue with you. Actually, I was hoping we could be friends,” she offered, extending the proverbial olive branch.
“I have enough friends, thank you very much,” Naomi said, flipping her long ponytail from one side to the other, like Marcia Brady.
What a bitch! How could Jacob have married such a spoiled, selfish woman? When she looked into Naomi’s face, the answer was obvious. She was gorgeous. Her milk chocolate skin was flawless. She had deep, Debbi Morgan–type dimples and her hair had a soft, flowing wave pattern. She wore a soft pink, Baby Phat velour jogging suit, probably going to the gym, which explained how even after bearing a child her hips were as slender as a teenager’s. She looked more like a model than a mom. She definitely had a face and body that was easy to love. “Well, if that’s how you want it, then so be it,” Tyler finally conceded.
Naomi didn’t say another word. She just swung her ponytail again and strutted out of the kitchen, leaving Tyler standing there in her wake.
Tyler watched Naomi until she was completely out of sight. Standing at the counter, Tyler pondered the situation. Either she could match Naomi’s contempt and verbally spar on a daily basis or she could try and befriend her sister-in-law, so that Naomi could see that she was no different than any straight person. To keep peace in the house, Tyler decided to choose the latter.
Getting on her good side is going to be a J.O.B., she thought. But Tyler had plenty of time to devote to winning Naomi over, because she wasn’t going anywhere—not in thirty days or anytime soon—no matter what Naomi said.
16
KENNEDY COULDN’T get the feeling of Nigel’s dick pressing against her ass off of her mind. She had returned home from an exhausting international flight and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for eight hours, or until her eyes popped open the next morning. But sleep eluded her as she tossed and turned thinking of Nigel. Kennedy was glad that she didn’t have his telephone number, which prevented her from ringing him up for a booty call. I need to get Nigel off of my mind. She sat up, turned on the light, picked up the phone, and called Naomi. It was late, but she knew that her friend was probably still awake.
“Hey, Ken,” Naomi answered on the first ring.
As often as Naomi greeted her in that manner, it still irked Kennedy. “Can’t you ever just say hello?”
“Why should I pretend like I don’t know who’s calling? Those days of anonymous calls are long over. Get with the program.”
“Whatever,” Kennedy responded lamely, now regretting that she had called.
“Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t call for a lesson on caller ID. What’s up?”
“Can you talk?” Kennedy asked, making sure Naomi was alone before she got into the details of her sexual dilemma.
“Yes, I can talk. Jacob is still at the office as usual, and Tyler is holed up in her room, or should I say, my guest quarters. Girl, let me tell you what that heifer said. We got into a verbal sparring match. I told her ass that this is not her house, and she can’t live here forever! She then had the nerve to tell me that Jacob said that our home is her home!! Can you believe that shit?” Naomi was talking so fast that she didn’t leave enough dead air for Kennedy to respond. She went on, “After going toe-to-toe for a few rounds, Ms. Thang had the nerve to ask if we could be friends. Well, I promptly told her NO. I told her I have enough friends and don’t need any more!” Naomi finally took a breath.
“Isn’t that a little harsh? After all, she is family.”
“She ain’t my family!” Naomi shouted into the receiver. “Even if she was related to me by blood, that don’t mean a thing. I remember when my cousin Roselyn moved in with us when I was a kid. Well, she and I were buddy-buddy until she started screwing the girl next door, and—”
Kennedy cut her off. “What? You never told me that story before.”
“I know. I try not to think about it. We were tight, until Roselyn kicked me to the curb for some pussy. I’ll never forget the way she treated me,” she said, still sounding hurt.
“Is that why you’re so hard on Tyler?” Kennedy asked, finally realizing where Naomi’s hostility was coming from.
“Hard? I ain’t hardly hard on her,” she yelled, her rage returning.
“Whoa, calm down. Don’t you think you’re overreacting? You’re acting like the girl committed a crime.”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, sleeping with another woman should be a crime. What’s wrong with her? I can’t understand how a woman could not like the comfort of a man.” Naomi shook her head in disgust.
“Obviously she doesn’t find men comforting,” Kennedy stated.
“Why are you always taking her side?” Naomi asked, raising her voice.
Kennedy had called to talk about her problems. Instead, she was listening to Naomi’s rant, and now Naomi was yelling at her. “Wait a minute, don’t scream at me. I didn’t call for a tongue-lashing. All I’m saying is that Tyler shouldn’t be condemned for what your cousin did to you, or because she has a different sexual preference. Just because you and I like dick, doesn’t mean that every chick in the world wants to ride the joystick.” Now it was Kennedy’s turn to go off on a tirade. “Look, Naomi, I’m tired and am going to bed. I’ll talk to you later.” Kennedy was no longer in the mood to discuss her dilemma. She wanted a solid relationship with Nigel, but on the other hand she wanted to fuck him until her toes curled. Kennedy knew that if they slept together too fast, it would probably kill any chances of getting to know him outside of the bedroom. Initially, she wanted to hear Naomi’s thoughts on the matter, but now she just wanted to get off the phone. She wasn’t in the mood to hear any more of Naomi’s rantings.
“Oh. Okay.” Naomi sounded a little put off that Kennedy was ending their conversation so soon. She wasn’t done talking about Tyler. “Talk to you later.”
Once Kennedy hung up, she got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Naomi had rattled her nerves, and she wanted a drink to calm down. She poured herself a glass of Cabernet and went back to her bedroom. She dug A Few Dollars and a Dream out of her purse, settled back in bed, and continued the story that she was reading on the plane. The book was quite good, and before she knew it, she had read four chapters. The love scenes were written with explicit detail, so detailed in fact that Kennedy started salivating. Her body was heating up with each erotic word, and she threw the covers back in
an effort to cool down, but it didn’t help. The more she read, the hornier she became. Kennedy envisioned the main characters as herself and Nigel intertwined in a tight embrace. She closed the book out of frustration. Kennedy was on the verge of combusting and needed some release.
She opened the drawer to her nightstand and took out a twelve-inch vibrator. She switched on the power and the rubber dildo started gyrating. Kennedy planted her feet on the mattress, spread her legs, lifted up her gown, and started tickling her clit with the tip of the vibrator.
“Ohh, that feels so good,” she said aloud.
The combination of the wine and the steamy sex sequences had Kennedy so fired up that she started plunging the fake dick in and out of her wet hole. She closed her eyes and imagined that Nigel was on top of her fucking her brains out. “That’s it, baby, take your pussy,” she moaned, turning her head from side to side as she plunged the vibrator deeper and deeper inside of her V-spot.
Kennedy kept working the mechanical organ until she came, but she still wasn’t satisfied and wanted more. She reached into the open nightstand drawer and took out a tube of lubricant. She smeared the gel along the shaft of the rubber member. Kennedy then turned over on her stomach, got on her knees and started easing the tip of the dick into her crack. Once the head was in, she began anally masturbating. Her sphincter greeted the dildo with a tight grip. “Oh, shit!” she screamed as she maneuvered the wand slowly into her anus. The pain was so good that she bit into a pillow. Kennedy clenched the pillow with her teeth as she wiggled the wand up inside her. She kept working it until she climaxed. She then removed the magic stick, got up, washed it, and got back into bed. She stared up at the ceiling.
Nigel, if you can make me come like that, then I’ll be in love for sure! With that delicious thought in her head, she curled up in a fetal position and drifted off to sleep.
