“Saint knew my type.” He chuckled. “She’s smart, and caring. And…I know she wants to get married. She keeps dropping hints and I keep skirting around it, like I don’t hear her. But…I can’t marry her until I tell her the truth. That…that wouldn’t be right. She should have the right to decide if she wants to be with me or not. I tried to tell my ex, she blew me off, so I was off the hook but…Traci isn’t like that. She won’t let me say something like that and just walk away, at least not at first. She is going to want me to explain myself, and that…that is where things will get hairy.”
“It doesn’t have to be, Jagger. If she is all the things you say she is, then you have a chance she will respond just as Kyung Mi has. Isn’t that why you’re here? Isn’t that why you’re talking to me right now because you needed to see for your own self that the woman is still with me after the great reveal?” He patted Jagger’s back.
“Yes…I suppose so and…just to hear your take on it. Thank you. I used to wish Lawrence’s father was my father. I always wanted the good dads of my friends to be my dad, too. Sometimes I’d even get jealous and I feel that way sorta right now. You’re a nice man, Mr. Aknaten. I wish…” Jagger swallowed. “I wish Saint and I were really brothers sometimes, and I had you as a Dad instead of Paul, the drunken bastard.” He said the last words under his breath.
“You stop right there.” Osaze made the man look at him. “What you see between Saint and me is a new development, Jagger. I may not have been a drunk, but I was quite neglectful to my son.”
Jagger looked at Osaze in shock.
“Yes, it’s true. I was emotionally abusive to my son, my only son. I have only recently been able to come to terms with it, what I’d done, because I had to, if I wanted him back in my life. Saint, like you, was a powerful child. Both of you have strong personalities, and as you know, Saint can be quite silly at times. Well, his personality didn’t mesh well with mine and Saint has always been rebellious. It got to the point where I’d have to tell him the opposite of what I wanted him to do, just to get the results I looked for.”
Jagger burst out laughing, causing Osaze to grin.
“It’s true. It worked for a while until he caught on. Saint is an ass, but I love him, and he is a good person.”
They both laughed together that time.
“He is obnoxious, but kind. He is arrogant, but very intelligent. He is now humble, and that is because he has grown as a person, and I believe also because Xenia is in his life and he is a father. Saint is the type of father you would have wanted, Jagger, not me. I will say this though,”—his gaze met Jagger’s and he tried to find the right words for the troubled man without telling all of Saint’s secrets—“I will not disclose his personal business to you, but believe me, the thought of losing a woman you love, he has experienced. Whatever advice he has given you, Jagger, listen to him. He knows what it feels like to be afraid of losing someone and he lost his mother, a very good, wonderful woman. And look at what just happened?
“He almost lost Xenia. You should have heard him when he was first at the hospital. I didn’t recognize my son, he was losing his mind then—and I knew, if my daughter-in-law died, my son would go with her. He might be still breathing, but he’d be no good. He’d try to carry on for his children, but the fun-loving Saint that laughs and smiles all the time, I don’t believe we’d see him anymore. Saint has been through a lot, and part of that was my fault.
“He lost his father, too, but I was still alive, and that’s what hurt him the most. I wanted nothing to do with him!” Osaze threw up his hand. “He’d become too much to handle. I kicked him out several times. He’d be in his room smoking pot, or sneaking girls into the house or being disrespectful. He had a sharp tongue. I used to be astounded at the awful things he’d say to me, but all that anger was a cover up; he was depressed, Jagger. He just wanted me to love him. He’d lost his mother in a tragic accident, and he couldn’t even talk to me about his feelings regarding that loss. They were very close. Saint was a mama’s boy. He was just striking out because he felt all alone. At the time, I didn’t realize this.” He sighed. “We fought constantly, and sometimes it was my fault. Sometimes, I went gunning for him because I was afraid to lose him, but all I was doing was pushing him further away.”
Jagger nodded. “I never knew this. With the way you behave around one another, I thought you were always close.”
“No, and it takes time. We are still not one hundred percent; Saint still carries a bit of a grudge. He’d never admit to it, but I can feel it. It’s because I’d done so much damage to his self esteem, and that isn’t anything a person can forget, but he is honestly trying. I would tell him he’d never amount to anything.” Osaze sniffed and looked away, his heart heavy at the memory. “I told him he was a horrible person, the son of the devil. I even told him once that he was stupid. Saint has never been stupid. He’s done stupid things at times, but that was just an awful thing to say to a child, and I still have a hard time forgiving myself for it. I said appalling things to him, things that could destroy a young boy. Min Jae had a special way with him. He was still raising hell, but he was more settled when she was around. I was an angry man—angry that my wife was gone, that I was stuck raising the boy all-alone and then that I wasn’t raising him at all…the streets were. I was angry that he was involved in very bad things. I was angry at myself for not finding a way to keep my family together. I was angry about so many things, many of which weren’t even in my control!
“Saint did all the rebelling he did because I wasn’t there, but I can tell you this much,”—Osaze looked at Jagger seriously, his eyes narrowed on the big man—“I’m there for him now, and I only have one son, but I wouldn’t mind having another.” He put his hand lovingly around Jagger’s shoulder. “I’m sorry your father was so terrible to you, and I’m not a prize either, but I can do the best I can. I can be here for you. You’ve already treated me like a father, Jagger. You came with Saint, as a brother would, to protect both of us. You treat my grandchildren like they are your niece and nephews. Xenia raves about how those children love you and one day, you will marry and have your own children and I can just tell, you will be a dynamic father, despite the bad example that was set.”
Jagger looked way, blushing, and smiled.
“When I met you for the first time, you were helping to protect my daughter-in-law and her children from my family members. I knew then that you were a great person. You’re fearless, you are a soldier, Jagger. You’re powerful, you’re strong, and being in love doesn’t make you weak, it makes you a force to be reckoned with. I felt my best when I was in love with Saint’s mother, and now, I’m in love with someone else, after all this time. It sounds strange for me to even say that, to hear it come out of my mouth. I never believed I’d fall in love again, but I have. I was afraid, like you, to let love in again. I believed no one would measure up to Min Jae. I never gave a woman a chance. I never even thought about dating. But then, I had to accept that I needed companionship and couldn’t go on this way. I enjoyed being married; it was an important part of my life. I didn’t enjoy being a father, initially, and Saint suffered for it. That boy, my child, he is…” Osaze’s eyes watered, and he quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand. “The best thing that woman ever gave me!” His voice trembled as he pointed at the photo of his beloved Min Jae. “And I squandered it, threw it away. Saint was in the midst of some pretty heavy stuff, Jagger.”
Jagger nodded. “Yeah, I heard. He told me something about it. What was he doing that was so awful? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“He was running with guys that everyone on this damn planet should’ve been afraid of. Jagger, the Bronx back then was quite dangerous and there my little six-year-old son was, running with gang bangers, junkies, and pimps. At the time, I had no idea why these people, these adults, would let a little kid hang around them, but I know now—because Saint has a special magic about him! He was one of the few children they let near t
hem. It was an odd thing to see, and it made me quite angry, naturally, but people trusted him, even as a little boy. Everyone who was open to him could feel and see it. He made people feel important, people the world had shitted on. He looked up to these guys who beat up people, killed, robbed and sold women because they shared their time with him and they had money, flashy clothes, ladies—all the stuff so many people covet. Like a lot of the poor kids there, Saint wanted that, too. I didn’t have much money, he wanted some. Saint likes nice things. Anyone who looks at him and goes inside his home can see that. He has always been that way, this isn’t anything new. We didn’t have money for name brand stuff all the time. He also had started liking girls at a fairly early age, and these guys had women all around them.
“They were the father that I wasn’t and for the rest of my life, I will have to come to grips with the fact that I let these sorts of people raise my child! I’m no Paul, but I wasn’t much better, so put no halo on me, Jagger.” Tears felt hot streaming down his face. “I may not have hit his mother, but I broke her heart with how I treated our son. I gotta live with that guilt, as well. Saint just wanted my attention, to be loved. He was looking for me in bars, strip clubs, bags of weed, alcohol and in promiscuous, non-loving sex. He was looking for his father, just like you were looking for your father by trying to become a father to everyone! Even to a little boy that wasn’t yours. But…I’m trying as hard as I can to make it up to that boy, my boy…though he is a man now.”
“I’m…I’m speechless. Look how sincere you are? Look how you are man enough to admit your mistakes. Saint really looks up to you, Mr. Aknaten. I understand what you’re telling me, and I’m a little surprised, but I know he wants you in his life. He talks about you all the time and I’m glad you two had a second chance.”
“What about your father? Could you have a second chance with him as well?”
Jagger frowned and shook his head. “No. He’s done too much damage and he doesn’t want to change. He’s not remorseful. In his book, he was the perfect father and my brothers and I are ungrateful. I refuse to speak to him anymore. He broke my mother’s arm, bloodied her face, and tortured my brothers. I had to kick his ass a couple of times for him to leave ’em alone.” Jagger drifted away, going somewhere that Osaze couldn’t follow. “No, that’s done. I’ve accepted that I don’t have a father.” He ran his finger over the stitching in the couch beside his leg. He was boiling in his own pain, and it broke Osaze’s heart.
Osaze swallowed, reached over and patted Jagger on his shoulder. “You do. If you want me, you have one now…”
~***~
“Come ’ere,” Saint sniffed, his voice husky with the morning frog. Lightning lit up the darkened hotel bedroom. He caught her in midflight as she fixed to check on the children. Hassani hated thunderstorms, yet he was sound asleep. All of his children were at peace. He could feel their energy from afar, and he got high off their carefree ways.
“I’m here,” she responded in the darkness, and he was barely able to make out her curvy form.
“Come closer…”
He heard her soft bare feet approaching him until she came into full view with her robe on, and before she could say another word, he lunged at her, looping his index finger under the tie and loosening it up to get full visual access to her rounded breasts, smooth stomach and plush pussy. He kept staring at that pussy, fantasizing about it after being in bed for three days…and he was tired of this shit. His body had beat him down, and now, he couldn’t sleep. He was certain he was through the worst of it, but he was craving the woman. She unknowingly tortured him, bending over after her showers, exposing those pussy lips. They’d crack slightly open as she’d open her legs wider and shave, the glistening silky pink flesh making his dick jump and fight with his boxers.
Her tits swung as she picked up things off the floor around him. He wasn’t convinced she wasn’t aware of the effect she was having on him. He tried to settle down, but he couldn’t get sex off his mind. Earlier in the day she’d brought him a tray of tea and hot soup with some crackers on the side. She explained to him it was Earl Grey, but everything that came out of her damn mouth sounded so sensual in his mind and he even made an explicit rhyme out of it…
“Saint, baby, this is Earl Grey tea…”
Tea? Please, get on your knees-
I want you to smoke this cock, like your smokin’ trees…
“Baby, I have some hot soup for you…”
I’d rather have some of your hot pussy. Come sit on my mouth-
Chicken noodle is futile, once I go down south…
“Sweetie, I thought you may like some crackers to go with it…”
Baby please, don’t talk and dash-
Stay a little while, let me slide in that ass…
…And so it went. He nodded as she spoke, but he didn’t care what she was talking about. He wanted to get laid, and not like the bullshit that had happened the night before. He meant to do some work, put in some hours, clock in that ass and never clock out, work overtime like a mothafucka needing it before the eviction notice arrived. Motivation.
But she resisted, demanding he be totally on the mend before any more hanky panky took place. At least she kept still, let him look at her real close. The lightning struck again, making her form glow then get swallowed by the darkness once more. He gripped the sides of his boxers, thrust them down his legs and gripped his cock. He knew she was watching, her eyes wide open, and that made it even better.
“Since you won’t give me any pussy, let me run my fingers on it at least.”
She stepped closer to the bed and stood with her legs farther apart, giving him full access. Keeping one hand on his dick, rubbing until it reached its maximum potential, he cupped her soft, fat pussy lips and glided his hand back and forth over them, wishing his tongue, nose and lips were buried there so tight, he’d barely be able to breathe. But if he went down on her right now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and he’d be inside of her immediately afterward, and that wasn’t what she wanted because she was worried about him and Saint never made love half-assed if he could help it. He tried to push the ugly incident out of his mind, and vowed he wouldn’t let it happen again.
Tonight, if she’d just give in, things would be as they always were…actually, even better. When he made love to his wife, he put his all into it. For all he knew, it could be the final time, and it needed to be something she could hold onto with both hands. His hand moved fast as he jerked himself off, and jerked off his woman at the same time. He was losing his damned mind. He didn’t see how his dick could get much harder. And when he felt the slight stickiness running across his frenzied fingers, his precum trailed down his rod like a slow trickle of water. His mouth was dry, his eyes stung and his breaths got heavy.
“Uhhh….” He closed his eyes briefly when her juice started to run over his palm. “Mmmm.” He swallowed hard and looked back at her exposed body, shrouded in shadows. “Uhhh…Xenia…” The woman was falling apart, but she refused to tell him just how much she wanted him within her. He knew she wanted it, her pussy was whispering his name. He snatched his hand off his dick and her pussy, jumped off the bed and gripped her around her ass.
“What are you doin’?!” she said in a panicked tone as he threw her on the bed and immediately covered her with his naked body.
“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m about to make love to my wife.”
“No, Saint.” She pushed up on his chest, as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed the base of his cock. “No! We had an agreement. You said you’d rest. Sex will slow down your…recovery!”
“No, it won’t. I have the energy for this, trust me. Now give it to me, baby…Uhhhh!” He pushed hard and fast inside of her, making her shout and dig her nails deep into his back. He covered her mouth quickly with his hand to muffle her screams, so as to not wake the children…and he got so deep inside that warm pussy that hugged his ravenous dick tight…
“Uhhh!” He felt like he was on some drug-induced trip as his dick went to town, making his entire body feel a thousand times better once he’d gotten into the rhythm of his stroke. He felt alive, tangible and real. “Uhhhh! Fuck, baby!” he whispered, biting his bottom lip to suppress a throaty groan on the brink of escaping his mouth. Xenia ran her fingers roughly through his hair as they indulged in a sloppy, urgent kiss, her overwhelming need bursting forward. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She cocooned him, wrapping her shapely legs around his waist while he jockeyed her temple good and steady.
“Ohhhhhhh! Ouuuuuuu!” she moaned as he moved his hips in a circular motion, hitting those walls in stride.
“Mmmm, baby…”
And then, he slid out of her. She tried to reach for him but caught nothing but air.
“What…what are you doing?” she panted, damn near catastrophic worry in her tone.
“Let’s slow down a moment.” He took a deep breath. “As badly as I want you, I’m going to do this right, just how I envisioned it.” He slipped further away from her and ran his fingers back and fourth against the radio dial. The jazz station Xenia found days earlier fit the mood just right. Tonight sexy, sultry saxophones intermingled with light piano and base, creating the perfect ambiance for what he had in store. It was still rather warm outside, but he did it anyway: lit the electric fireplace in the room, bathing the room in a soft glow. The bright orange flames jumped until they smoldered down to a polite roar. He stood there for a moment, mesmerized by the heat. It inspired him…
He returned to her, and as if plucking fallen flower petals from the earth he slowly removed her robe, enjoying the strip tease he orchestrated. Gazes locked, they embraced one another with a heated regard. He admired the feast before him, famished, and then swooped down on the sweet and soft caramel gifts. Taking one breast in his hand and the other in his mouth, he slowly sucked her honeyed flesh while kneading the other. Her sighs were music to his ears, blending in with the sounds of Najee.
Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father Page 58
