The Chronicles of Stella Rice: February

by Adrienne Kama

  Having delivered the first part of his speech, Dev rested his weight on one hand and crossed his legs. For any other man, the pose would have seemed effeminate. But Dev wasn’t any other man. The muscles in his thighs flexed as he moved, his bicep bulged under the weight of his body. There was nothing effeminate about Dev. Even the way he watched me was indescribably masculine. There was a glimmer in his eyes, a mischievousness hidden just under the surface making me wonder what he was thinking. And there was something primal about his stare. A primordial hunger that said Dev might slide off the counter at any moment and advance on me.

  “Why me?” I asked. “I saw you perform. There are any number of females who would gladly give themselves to you and Jake.”

  “Jake doesn’t want any female. He wants you. He seems to have become enamored with you, Stella. Did you know that?” He eased off the counter and edged toward me. This made me uncomfortable on many levels. “He says you’re submissive as a kitten in bed. Is that true?”

  My brilliant response to this was, “Huh?”

  “When he told me about your night together, about the things he did to you, I was so turned on I tried to persuade him to bring me here. I wanted to meet you and see for myself if you were half as beautiful as he claimed.”

  “He said I’m beautiful?”

  “He told me how he bound you to the posts of our bed, naked, but for the loops of rope fastening your wrists. He taunted me, saying how fine your skin felt, how soft and welcoming it was. He says you’re the type of woman who takes care of herself. Is that true, Stella?” He moved closer.

  When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Then he told me how you writhed under the paddle.” He paused, mere inches from me, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “You know, he’d wanted to do that to you since the first day you showed up for his kickboxing class. Is it true you’d go to class made up as though you were at a singles bar? And wearing spandex? Tight spandex? He said the moment he spotted you he’d made up his mind to have you.”

  I would’ve said something had my mind been working properly. As it was, the only thing I seemed capable of doing was mumbling monosyllables. “Huh? What? Me?”

  “Tell me, Stella. Is what he said that happened after he paddled you true? That you knelt between his legs and licked his cock like a starving—”

  “He told you that?”

  “Mmm. And right through his pants.”

  “I got caught up in the moment.” Damn, Jake could sure run his mouth.

  “Wanna know what Jake told me when he got home from the gym on Friday?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to know. I could only imagine.

  “Jake said you agreed to spend Valentine’s Day with us. All night. I like the sound of that, Stella.” I retreated until I felt the edge of a counter digging into my lower back. “Jake says you’re so tight you feel virginal. And baby, I love the sound of that.” Dev advanced until his body was molded against mine.

  I tried to breathe, an exercise that proved futile when he dipped his head low and captured my mouth.

  His tongue lashed my skin, forced my lips open then delved within. The suddenness of such intimate contact with Jake’s lover sent my hormones into full alert. His tongue felt sleek within the warm confines of my mouth and his taste was sweetly intoxicating. Like berry wine, chocolate and strawberries. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and nearly losing myself in his touch.

  The feel of his body, hard and unyielding against mine, made me weak in the knees. I was making out with Dev, the man I’d seen onstage at Hammerjacks last month and had been lusting forever since.

  He easily lifted and set me on the edge of the counter. All the while he stroked me with his tongue. He licked my lips, nibbled, then delved deep for another taste.

  In my mind’s eye I remembered the sight of Dev hooking Jake by the waistband of his pants at Hammerjacks. The moment their tongues touched I knew they were more than lovers. The two had come together with an intensity that left me scorched. They had seemed ravenous. Now, with Dev’s hands all over me, his mouth feasting on mine, the thought of Dev with Jake had my loins tightening.

  I wrapped my legs around Dev and pulled him closer, suddenly needing what he was giving me. I couldn’t let go.

  He trailed his fingers down my spine before finding the moons of my backside, cupping them in his large hands, and dragging me toward him. With a groan of pure male longing, he rotated his hips and ground them against me where my need was the most fevered. The move was forceful, telling me just how much he wanted me at his place on the fourteenth.

  “You’re so hard,” I said against his lips.

  He raised one hand. I felt his fingers twist into my hair as he angled my head to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced against mine, teasing, promising.

  I flexed my thighs, fought to get closer. I was quite content to let him take me right there, on my kitchen counter. Hell, I wouldn’t be content. I’d be thrilled.

  “Oh, Stella. The things I could do to you.”

  “Could do?”

  “Say you’ll come,” he said, pulling away long enough for me to catch my breath before prodding my lips wide for another taste.

  I ran my hands over his back, letting my fingers play over his shoulders. When my hands fell below his waist, I cupped his ass, kneaded it and pulled him closer.

  He moaned, then pushed away. “Jake was right. You’re like an aphrodisiac,” he said, out of breath. “If I didn’t think Jake would kill me…Say you’ll come, so we can finish this.”

  “You’re stopping? You can’t leave me like this.”

  “Jake would kill me. He refused to give me your address until I promised him I wouldn’t seduce you.”

  His eyes were glazed, his lids heavy with lust. I knew suddenly that stopping our erotic play had pained him as much as it did me.

  “He’s that possessive of you?” I asked.

  He grinned. “As a matter of fact, he is. But in this particular case, it’s not me he’s being possessive over. I don’t get to have you unless Jake’s present.”

  I sat back. “Well that’s presumptuous of him. He has no claim over me.”

  Dev shrugged. “He says different. So what do you say, Stella?”

  I wanted to. I’d never wanted to do anything more than I wanted to go to Jake and Dev’s on Valentine’s Day. But was it right? Would I feel guilty after? Jake was the first and only man I’d ever had casual sex with. All of my previous partners were always boyfriends. I was truly charting new territory here. Not only were Jake and I not seriously involved, but now Jake was bringing a third person into the mix.

  “I don’t know. I have a date this Saturday. I’m not sure if seeing the two of you a few days later would be right.”

  “If you don’t come to our place on the fourteenth, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Come on, Stella. Live a little.”

  I knew he wasn’t being arrogant, but he was simply speaking the truth. I would regret not going to their place. I’d always wonder what I’d missed out on. So, throwing caution to the wind, I said. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  He kissed me again. Thoroughly.

  “We won’t tell Jake about your date,” he said, once he’d pulled away. “Jake wouldn’t like that.”

  “Why should he care?”

  Dev didn’t answer the question, but instead he asked one of his own. In retrospect I don’t think it was so much a question as it was a demand. “You’re not going to have sex with him, are you?” His tone, the severity of his delivery didn’t seem questioning.

  “No. Of course not. I don’t do that sort of thing…Except that time with Jake, but that was a one-time thing. And not including the desk time. Then, of course they’ll be the fourteenth, but that doesn’t count since I know Jake already…I don’t know you, but you know Jake and we both slept with him so I’m sure—”

  I was relieved when he interrupted me. If he hadn’t I would have gone on indefinitely. “S
o we’ll see you on the fourteenth. Jake will give you a call before then, to let you know what time we’ll be picking you up.”

  “Okay,” I squeaked, in a kind of shock that I was really going through with this.

  He gave me one last, lingering kiss. “See you soon,” he said against my mouth.

  When Dev was gone, Ann and Meagan came skipping into the kitchen, chortling in high-pitched voices and making lewd comments.

  Shit! I’d completely forgotten about them. Damn it to hell. “How much did you hear?” I demanded.

  “I thought you were gonna do it right there on the counter,” Ann laughed. “Amazing, you don’t have a rule about that.”

  “A no sex on the counters rule,” Meagan agreed.

  “Oh shut up,” I said.

  Still giddy, Ann asked, “Hey! Why didn’t you tell us about the paddle?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  2/12/05 10:57 a.m.

  What is it about my personality that brings athletic types to my door? Really. I wanna know. Because if it’s something I’m doing, I’ll stop.

  The moment I opened my front door and found Chester standing in the hallway, dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, and cradling a cowboy hat, I knew I was in trouble. My trepidation rose to a fever pitch when the first words out of his mouth were, “It’s so nice out there today I thought we could do something a little different.”

  I glanced down at my stylish slacks, colorful silk blouse, and pumps and decided I would need to change before venturing out today. Good thing too. In my jeans, wool sweater, and boots I was more prepared when he announced his intentions. He didn’t do this until I was safely tucked away in his car, which I might add was NICE! It was a black, sporty number with an awesome stereo, leather interior, and really amazing heated seats. I think the moment I saw his car I was in love.

  The love thing lasted about twenty seconds. Like I said, once I was trapped within the confines of his car he announced his intentions.

  “I’ve got this friend up in Carroll County—”

  “Carroll County? I thought you just moved here.”

  “I did. Greg’s a college buddy of mine. He’s the one who sold me on coming to Maryland. See, he’s a professor at UMBC,” he said of the University of Maryland’s Baltimore County campus. “He said I’d like it here. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Greg lives up in Carroll County. Has fifty acres up there.”

  Already, I didn’t like the way this conversation was going. “Like a farm?” I asked terrified by the prospect of what that would mean.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Exactly what, then?”

  “He and his wife have a kitchen garden, a vegetable garden, and a few animals of the outdoor variety, and a lot of beautiful land.”

  I stared at him. “I think I should tell you right now that I don’t like being outside. I’m more of a fine dining, art gallery, museum, or go out dancing, type of gal.” A shudder swept through me at the prospect of spending the day out of doors. It wasn’t the weather that had me worried. Chester had been right on that score. At an unseasonably warm temperature of sixty-four degrees, it was gorgeous today. What I was weary of was whatever Chester had planned for us to do outside.

  Unperturbed, Chester gave me a sexy half-smile. “Fresh meat.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The smile slid off his face, but I could see the edges of his lips tremble as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Oh, nothing.”

  Forty-five minutes later, we were driving up a winding stretch of road Chester said was Greg and Giselle’s driveway. We passed under trees so old I guessed they’d seen generations come and go. Weeping willows hung over the road, pines blocked out much of the sun, and barren cherry trees lined the drive. When we came to a clearing, the first thing I saw was a two-story country house sitting at the end of the drive. With its wrap around porch and the porch swing swaying in the breeze a few feet from the front door, the house couldn’t have been more country if it tried. Behind the house and off to the right was a group of utility buildings.

  Chester pulled to a stop, got out, then walked around to my side of the car and opened my door. I took his hand and allowed him to help me from my seat.

  The sun was a golden disk in the sky; its heat was a warm embrace about my body. An enticing aroma of food hung heavy in the air, making my stomach grumble for attention. The sweet smell of the forest around us was a surprisingly welcome change from the gritty city smells of automobile exhaust and smog. Maybe being outside in the country wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “Isn’t it beautiful here?”

  I smiled and let him lead me toward the porch. “It is,” I agreed.

  We’d only managed a few steps when a man, whose face could have been chiseled from stone, brought us to a standstill.

  “So you made it!” this new person announced.

  The man wasn’t what I’d call good-looking. Tall and lanky, with a mop of wild brown hair, he sort of reminded me of Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.

  “Hi to you too, Greg.” Chester grinned.

  The man eyed his wristwatch. “Thought for sure you’d get lost. You made good time.”

  “Just show me to the food and the stables. I can talk to you any time.”

  “Stables?” I repeated. “As in horse stables? You’re kidding right?” I would have said more had I not felt eyes boring into me. I paused, mid rant, and realized I was the object of close scrutiny.

  Brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, Greg stared at me as though I were a lab specimen.

  “This is Stella?” he edged closer, eyes scanning me from my booted feet to the top of my head.

  “Yeah,” Chester said.

  Greg opened his mouth to say something else, seemed to think better of it, then settled on giving me a smile and offering his hand. The smile transformed his face. It was like seeing George Washington’s face on Mount Rushmore suddenly alight with life.

  “Stella,” he said brightly, “Stella Rice. Welcome to my home. Come on in. Name’s Greg. Greg Hendrickson. I suppose Chester told you we went to school together.”

  “He did,” I agreed. “Nice to meet you.”

  He gave my hand three enthusiastic pumps, grinning at me the entire time. I felt like I’d gone from being something the cat dragged in to the status of prodigal son in the space of six seconds. His hand was callused, but his touch wasn’t unpleasant. I found that I was grinning back at him. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I looked as ridiculously goofy as he.

  “Follow me,” he said, letting my hand slip from his. “Giselle’s inside fixing brunch. Said she refused to let you go wandering on an empty stomach.” He paused on the steps, glanced at us over his shoulder, and then did this sort of body shudder thing.

  Clearly, something was wrong. Whatever ease I’d felt, slid away. My abdomen clenched and a tight ball of dread formed in the pit of my stomach. I got the distinct feeling that the something was me.

  2:22 p.m.

  Thank God! I couldn’t wait to get out of that house and away from that horrible woman. What the hell was Chester thinking to bring me there in the first place?

  When we stepped onto their back deck and proceeded down the stairs into the yard, I couldn’t wait to get far enough away from the house so I could give Chester a piece of my mind.

  We were walking across the field behind the house and toward the barn, when Chester stopped and turned to face me. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “You didn’t tell them I’m black, did you?” His quick glance at his boots was all the answer I needed. “How could you bring me here knowing you didn’t tell them? Without knowing if they’d have a problem with it or not?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would matter.”

  “Didn’t think it would matter? Not everyone is enlightened, Chester. And that Giselle…” I couldn’t say any more. I was so furious my hands were trembling.

  “Stupid. I know. I’m sorry.”

  I knew racism was a
live and well in America, but I’d never come face to face with it as I had today. In the city, if someone held racist beliefs they simply weren’t tolerated. Sure, I’d gotten stared at before, followed in a department store once, but never had I experienced the demeaning treatment I had at the Hendrickson’s table. So many times I’d heard racism referred to as hatred, but I didn’t think hatred was the right word for what I experienced. Distain was better. Contempt, better still. “She didn’t even want to shake my hand,” I said. “She didn’t want me sitting at her table or eating her food.”

  Chester’s throat worked. His eyes were steady on my face, nearly pleading. “She’s ignorant,” he said, speaking in a slow, measured voice.

  I nodded my agreement. “Please, take me home.”

  Something crushed beneath Chester’s boot as he stepped closer to me. “Let me show you the horses? It’s why I brought you here. I thought we could ride out to the river and sit and talk for a while. I planned to take you to dinner tonight, then dancing.”

  “I’m not in the mood for horses right now, Chester. Or dancing. I just want to go home.”

  “Five more minutes. After that we’ll go. Promise.”

  Sighing, I let him lead me to the stables.

  We walked in silence, side-by-side, close enough to touch but worlds apart mentally. Chester was a nice man. I’d talked to him enough to know there was no cruelty in him. But could he have been so naïve about his friends as to think the prospect of him dating a black woman wouldn’t be an issue? Though I told him I wasn’t angry with him, I was. I felt like I’d walked blindly into an ambush.

  Giselle had alluded to the inferiority of minorities. She wasn’t so bold as to come out and say she thought minorities were inferior intellectually and only able to succeed when given handouts by white people, but she might as well have. When asked where I’d gone to school, I told them I studied Biblical history at Johns Hopkins, to which Giselle commented how glad she was to see Affirmative Action at work. Responding to such an ignorant statement was unnecessary, and I knew it. Still, I let them know that graduating from the Johns Hopkins as Magna Cum Laude was a result of my determined work ethic, and nothing to do with Affirmative Action. I’d graduated high school with a 3.7 GPA, and I didn’t need Affirmative Action to get me accepted into college. Not when I had a working brain, two hands, and a determination to succeed.