by Kiki Leach
He opened his hands and grimaced. “Vanessa, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked.
“I’m talking about you being out with her this morning at that new Beatnick Café near your office building. Nikki said she saw you there on her way to rehearsal and that you two looked more than friendly in some corner booth. A little too friendly for a casual Wednesday morning at 7am.”
He groaned and dragged his hand down the side of his face and around to the front of his throat. He would’ve choked himself to death if he thought it would’ve gotten him out of this conversation. “She was exaggerating,” he told her. “Look, we’ve hung out from time to time since I’ve been gone, sure. Had lunch, maybe gone to a few movies and had some drinks when I can’t sleep.”
“That sure as hell sounds like a lot of time spent with someone you don’t give a damn about spending any of it with, Mo--”
“I’m not having sex with her,” he interjected. “I haven’t had sex with anybody since you – I haven’t even seen a woman naked. And that’s the bottom line, right? I don’t want to be with her like that or anyone else, and I don’t plan to make it happen anytime soon.”
Vanessa sighed. “Even if you don’t plan to make things happen, it doesn’t mean that she won’t try. Did you ever think of that? I told you from the beginning that she had a thing for you and you just blew it off like it was nothing. It would be absolutely no surprise to me now since Oscar’s left if she tried to make her move on you and--”
“What? I shot her down? Because that’s exactly what would happen. I’m not interested in Melanie outside of friendship,” he said, rising to his feet again. “You need to understand that.”
“I’m sorry, but what can you possibly gain from a friendship with her if sex isn’t what you’re looking for?” She quickly raised her hand and shook her head, stopping him before he could answer because she knew that whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. “You know what, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “Because I know women like her, I’ve seen them my entire life in this business and especially once they get around to having a good look at you. No matter what you say, if she’s determined to have you, then she’ll find a way to make it happen. One way or another, she’ll--”
“Can you find a way to make it happen?” he asked. “For the second time?”
Her eyes lowered and she turned her head as he approached her. “Don’t.”
Vanessa stood straight and pressed her body against the wall near the frame to keep herself steady, while still holding on tight to the first aid kit.
She swallowed hard and watched Maurice’s hand come toward her, having no urge to push him away despite her protest. When he caressed her cheek, his large, soft hand melding against the warmth of her skin, she sank into him like a silk pillow and breathed out. “Mo.” Her lids fluttered shut as the heat of ecstasy bounced between them with every touch.
His other hand found the buttons on her shirt; he smirked while giving it a light tug. “I love the way you look in my clothes.” His voice lowered with every spoken word. “I love that even though I’m not here, you still find ways for me to be a part of you – still find ways for me to be wrapped around every inch of your body. And this shirt…” He tugged at it again and yanked her to him. She had stopped breathing completely as her heart leapt into her throat. “It’s part of you now, just like I’ve always been.” He bent down, and with his mouth hovering over hers, whispered. “I miss waking up next to you, Vanessa. Just as much as you miss me being beside you.” He slid his fingers up to the opening at the collar and glided them back and forth across her collarbone. Unwittingly, she dipped her head back and released a soft, but powerfully explicit moan.
The sound was like a symphony to his ears.
The first aid kit loosened in her hand despite her grip; for a few seconds, she forgot why it even mattered that she was still holding it.
Maurice smiled when he felt her breath shaking. He exhaled between her lips and her tongue swirled around them. When she opened her eyes to look into his, they had darkened with a delicious hunger she immediately recognized as ever being only for her.
“I miss you like hell, V.”
He dropped a hand and slid it up between her thighs, sinking his fingertips inside of each one. She yelped and allowed that kit to finally drop to the floor.
As it bounced against the wood, everything from the alcohol to the scissors and gauze scattered across their feet. Ignoring the clacking sounds and commotion, Maurice’s hand slipped beneath her shorts and moved closer to her panties, his thumb grazing the lining; she moaned again, draping her free hand around the back of his neck and holding on tight as if she were preparing for the wildest ride of her life.
The moment he could feel just how much she still wanted him, his ego took over. He moved his other hand up beneath her shirt, wrapping his fingers over the rims of her shorts and panties and simultaneously dragging them down to the floor where he remained on his knees. Staring up at her with a devastating, yet charismatic grin that only he could pull off, Maurice ran his hands up her legs and pressed his mouth against the smoothness of her thigh. She rested her hand on top of his head as he gradually moved his face up higher and higher until it was directly between her thighs.
He extended his tongue against the most sensitive, and softest part of her flesh and it was like a nuclear bomb had erupted inside her chest with fireworks exploding at every turn. She felt herself shattering with every stroke, every deep kiss, and struggled to keep her trembling legs from officially giving out from beneath her where she stood.
As his hands tightened around the back of her thighs in an attempt to bring her even closer, she clutched the hair on his head, and chewed down on her lip so hard that it began to bleed inside her mouth. Forgetting all about the mess downstairs, all about who and what caused it and that reason still being present inside her house, she immersed herself in this moment with Maurice, with the man she loved more than her own life, and consumed it for all it was worth.
Before she could come, because he could always feel it just before she made it known by wiggling her body against him and calling out his name, he stood up and thrusted his tongue inside of her mouth. She tasted herself and wrapped her teeth around his bottom lip as he lifted her from the floor. Automatically, her legs encircled his waist and she locked her heels to remain in place against him.
For Maurice, showing up that night and making love to Vanessa wasn’t initially part of the plan. He had come there for something, something important that he wasn’t sure would matter to her anymore, even if she were to find out why it should. But once he got a taste of her again, the reason behind the why didn’t seem to matter as much to him anymore.
As the kisses became deeper and grew more fervent, Vanessa murmured something to him about her bedroom. He kept one hand behind her thigh while the other pressed down hard against her back and lifted her even higher on his body. She pulled her mouth from his and stared down at his face. They were both out of breath, panting as if they were addicts just waiting for their second fix.
Maurice was starved for her as his mouth was eager to take hers again. She smiled in realizing just how much he still ached for her in a way that he never seemed to ache for another woman before. She treasured that feeling, knowing that no matter what happened between them that night or any other one following, no other woman would ever own that part of him like she did.
And no woman who valued her own worth in anything would ever try.
He carried her from the room and down the hall, but when she kissed him again, her tongue doing all the passionate and desperate things he remembered from the time they were first together, he stopped at the end of the hall, just before reaching her bedroom, and shoved her against the wall near the bathroom. His hard and heavy breathing vibrated against her as he moved his mouth over to the side of her neck and ran his tongue along her skin. Her hands dropped down to his back and she clawed against him while trying to yank t
he edge of his shirt from the buckle of his pants.
When Nathan heard a hard bumping sound coming from above his head, he cautiously put the broom to the side and called for Vanessa. When she didn’t immediately answer, his concern turned to worry.
“V?”
After hearing the bump again, he dumped the glass from the pan into the trashcan and sat it on the floor. Dusting his hand against his pants, he stepped over another pile he had swept across the room and headed out to the foyer.
“V?”
Vanessa’s eyes popped open when she thought she heard someone who wasn’t Maurice calling out for her. It was then that she was brought back to the reality of someone else being inside her house, and exactly who that someone was. She knew that she had to stop considering what happened before, and the consequences of those actions partly resulting in her now separation from the man she truly loved. Her brain was telling her to put her legs down, to unwrap herself from Maurice – who didn’t seem to hear a damn thing from anyone but her – and to tell him to leave while simultaneously shoving him away.
But her heart. Her body. Oh God, neither her heart nor her body would let her do anything except enjoy what was happening to them. Maurice was still kissing, still sucking and licking, still making her feel so damn good and desired in a way she hadn’t felt since the last time they were together.
Clinching her sex, she closed her eyes again and squeezed tight as he entered his fingers inside of her, one, by one, by one…
And then it happened.
“Well, well.”
Nathan’s voice boomed from the other end of the hallway. Vanessa’s eyes popped back open and her breath caught.
Maurice stopped cold as if a loaded gun with a half-cocked trigger had been shoved against his back. He pulled away from Vanessa as a sudden flurry of rage fueled emotions engulfed his entire system and flushed his already inflamed skin.
What the hell was his rival doing there at that time of night?
And why the hell hadn’t Vanessa said anything about it before they started kissing, let alone started doing… this?
His teeth clinched, his jaw locked. And then he looked at her face. Her eyes were becoming red and watery and her lip quivered as if she was trying to speak. While still holding onto her, Maurice whipped his head around and saw Nathan for himself. His arms were crossed, his feet were wide apart, his head was tilted and the grim look on his face let Maurice know that he was more than ready for a battle that would end in actual bloodshed for one or both of them this time.
Vanessa dug her fingers into Maurice’s shoulder, fearful of what to expect from Nathan after their blow up in the kitchen and the reason behind it. She tried to keep Maurice from reacting, but failed when he released his grip around her body and sat her back down to the floor.
“Mo, don’t,” she said.
But he refused to listen.
Turning away, he fixed his pants and gradually started walking toward his former best friend.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.
Nathan smiled, his eyes devious as they focused in on Maurice’s, and chuckled. “I was in the neighborhood. Heard there was another late night showing happening upstairs, so I thought I’d stop by and see what it was all about. A little more PG than the last time I saw it--”
“Nathan!” Vanessa snapped.
Maurice glanced back at her and scrunched his brows, bewildered. “What the fuck is this lunatic talking about?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“NATHAN!” She moved around Maurice and pulled down on her shirt to cover herself. “I think it’s time for you to finally get the hell out of here and go back home to whatever the hell it is that you currently have with Sheila--”
“Which is nothing,” he mumbled.
“Wait a second.” Maurice held up his arm, holding Vanessa back from moving any further. She looked up at him with panic filling her eyes, knowing what would come if he learned the truth. Maurice raised his other hand and pointed straight ahead. “I want to know what this asshole is doing here.”
Nathan bent forward and playfully widened his arms. “Making amends?”
“Bullshit,” Vanessa said under her breath.
Maurice ignored her and continued advancing toward Nathan. His impatience was wearing thinner by the second. “Amends for what?”
“My part in bringing Adrian to the Hamptons,” he replied, his tone dry as dirt and just as rough. He even yawned to show just how much he didn’t care. “It was a shitty thing to do and I came here to apologize to V for it.”
“That’s not all you came here for,” said Maurice. “It couldn’t have been. Because I’m guessing that you would’ve left as soon as she came upstairs if that were the truth.”
He lifted his shoulders, shoved out his bottom lip, and turned his eyes up toward the ceiling. “Maybe I was just waiting for my turn on her merry-go-round in case she felt that a one way ticket beneath you wasn’t enough.”
Maurice sprang forward then, and violently tackled Nathan to the ground as if they were still on that football field back in high school, this time on opposing teams.
Fists and blood went flying from one side of the hallway to the other within seconds of each other as Maurice struck Nathan in either side of his jaw, mouth and eyes; he banged his head down against the wood with the intent of popping a muscle or two from place in his neck.
Enraged that her house was on the verge of being destroyed yet again and realizing that calling out to them only seemed to make the fighting that much more intense, Vanessa grabbed her shorts and panties from Maurice’s bedroom and leapt over the men to run downstairs for the phone.
The moment she fled from their path of destruction, Maurice picked Nathan up from the floor and threw a fist into his chest and stomach so hard that they both went tumbling down the stairs and straight through the railing. Vanessa let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped out of the way as wood and bodies flew all around her and crashed down hard on the floor.
Panicked, she bent down to a groaning and sore Maurice, who was covered in slithers of the wood and his own blood, but was unexpectedly hauled away by a seething Nathan and tossed onto the couch in the living room. He glared down at her and grinded his teeth, silently telling her to stay put before he went after a struggling Maurice. His hand was soaked in blood and throbbing again, but he didn’t care, as he was too fixated on ending things between them once and for all.
Reaching forward, he picked up a bloody piece of the railing and shoved it hard into Maurice’s stomach. Maurice clutched himself and doubled forward, roaring in pain. But he wasn’t down for long, quickly regaining his strength and retaliating by kicking the wood from Nathan’s hand. A flummoxed Nathan had no time to react when Maurice grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed his face into the front door. Blood spewed from his nose and mouth, splashing across his face and clothes. He slid down, unable to regain footing, and smashed his chin against the knob. Maurice proceeded to hover over him, dragging him back and kicking him down to the floor.
With the phone still in her hand and afraid that one of them would no doubt kill the other if she didn’t act fast, Vanessa immediately dialed ‘911’.
She shoved her hair out of her face and shook her head.
“Idiots,” she mumbled.
When she heard a clicking sound from the other end of the phone, she cleared her throat.
“911,” the operator called out. “What’s your emergency?”
Just then, Maurice hollered out as Nathan shoved one fist, and then the other into his face and sent him flying across the room. He crashed into a chair, which slid back into the coatrack, snapping it in half, and dropped down to his knees on the floor.
“Hello?” the operator called out.
Vanessa jumped up from the couch and watched in dread as more blood spewed from Maurice’s mouth and onto the collar of his shirt. His right eye was bloodshot and he spit out what looked like the crow
n of his tooth. Nathan’s face was swelling by the second, his nose looked as if it might have been broken and his bottom lip was nearly split in two.
“Ma’am,” the operator started again. “Ma’am, what is your emergency?”
Vanessa took in a deep breath and tried to remain calm, assured that hysterics wouldn’t be any good in getting her the kind of help she needed. “I have two men in my hallway trying to kill each other,” she spoke into the receiver. “That is my emergency. I need you to send someone over here quick before one of them goes out in a body bag.”
At that point, she didn’t know or even care which one it could be.
After gathering all the needed information, the operator agreed to send two officers to Vanessa’s townhouse.
Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the hallway at the bottom of her stairs, staring at the blood now stained on her floors and listening, both horrified and drained, as Nathan and Maurice continued to pummel each other, though the fight had spilled over into her kitchen by then, which in turn destroyed more dishes.
How the fuck can they not be exhausted by now? she wondered.
Idiots.
Before long, the police were banging on her front door and Vanessa was crying out in relief. She dropped the phone and raced to open it, allowing the two policemen inside.
“Ma’am,” said the first one, tipping his hat. A pile of plates made a loud crashing sound against the floor before he could continue and without saying another word to her, he headed off in the direction of the commotion.
The other, who quickly identified himself as Officer Joe Stanton, stayed behind to speak with Vanessa about exactly what was happening and why. After relaying the circumstances leading to her current situation, the officer leaned down and admitted with twinkling grey eyes that he immediately recognized her from the same gossip rags in which his wife was an avid fan of reading.
She almost rolled her eyes after hearing that – it wasn’t the time or place (if ever there were either) to admit something like that – but stopped herself and nodded while mumbling a few swear words instead.
