by S. K. Hardy
“Mmmm, yessss,” Marcus hissed as her foamy cream adhered to his dick like white icing on a birthday cake. He drove into her without mercy. Demanding more. Frantic and impatient. “Scream my name, baby. Let me know it’s good to you.”
“It is, Marcus!” Aleesha shrieked. “It’s good! Sooo good!”
“This shit right here…” Marcus’ teeth clenched tightly, his growl raw and animalistic. “You hear how this pussy purrs for me, like it can’t get enough of this dick?”
“Yes!”
“I love that shit, Leesh.”
Body trembling, her only response was a continuous wailing moan as he long stroked her through her orgasm. Skin drenched in sweat, Aleesha clawed at his back then gripped the sheets. She called out for the Almighty Himself as violent ripples of pleasure swirled over her like an endless, cascading waterfall.
Marcus’ groans joined hers as he growled her name. Their screams echoed in the room. The veins in his neck became more pronounced as he tensed moments before flooding Aleesha’s canal with thick spurts of his love fluids. He muttered incoherently, the English language momentarily deserting him as the muscles in her pussy clenched and released his shaft, milking every drop from him, leaving him spent and weak.
Finally, the urgent storm of their passion blew over and gave way to a peaceful, satisfying tranquility. Their breathing calmed. The momentum slowed. Marcus’ strokes now comforted and soothed her.
Sufficiently fucked and unquestionably satisfied, Aleesha’s hands caressed his wide back as she murmured his name. She welcomed the weight of his body as he sighed and momentarily collapsed on top of her, before rolling onto his side and pulling her close. Her body ridiculously relaxed, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.
“That was so good, baby,” she said in a breathless whisper.
“Incredible,” Marcus murmured in a low voice.
Aleesha sighed in agreement. She had just found a comfortable spot on his chest when Addy’s soft coos sounded through the baby monitor. She stiffened and waited. Like clockwork, her daughter’s hungry wail followed not long after.
“To say she was the premature one, she sure does eat more than her brother,” Aleesha moaned, untangling herself away from Marcus’ warm body.
Chuckling, Marcus pushed her back down and got out of the bed. “That’s Daddy’s little diva. I got her, baby. Stay here.”
“But…you have to get up in a few hours.” Deliciously sated, Aleesha offered the half-hearted protest even as she snuggled deeper into pillow.
“And whose fault is it that I’m still up,” he teased, going to the bureau and opening a drawer.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Aleesha slurred, already half asleep. “You’re too good to me.”
Marcus glanced at her indulgently, his smile tender and loving as he pulled on a pair of black pajama bottoms. As long as he grabbed a couple of hours of shuteye, he’d be fine to make it through the day. The lack of sleep was worth it as far as he was concerned. If he lived to be one hundred years old, he would never get tired of making love to his wife. Every woman he’d ever been with before her was a vague blur; they’d just been something to pass the time with until he found his way to her. There would never be anyone else for him but Aleesha Bennett. She was it.
“I love you, Marcus,” she mumbled.
“Love you too, sweetheart. Get some sleep,” Marcus answered before walking out of the room to take care of his babies.
CHAPTER 10
Jerra stepped back, checking out her handiwork in the huge walk-in closet. Satisfied with what she saw, she nodded and dusted her hands off. She’d barely made a dent in what she wanted to do, but it was progress. She had been talking about rearranging her closet forever, but just hadn’t been able to find the time.
Wrinkling her nose she corrected herself. The truth was, she could’ve made the time, but…well… she hadn’t wanted to. Tonight, however, she welcomed the opportunity because she desperately needed something to occupy her mind. With D.J. at his sleepover, and Tina turning in early, it left her with nothing to do but think about Darrell and the current state of her marriage. Right now, she didn’t want to do either.
Jerra eyed the stacks of clothes and shoes on the floor. She’d made a giveaway pile and a throwaway pile. Tomorrow, she would bag everything up and get it out of there, but as for now she was finally giving in to the urge to take the nice, long shower that had been calling her name for the past couple of hours.
Once in the bathroom, she turned the water on for her shower and adjusted it to the temperature she wanted before stripping her clothes off. Pulling the scrunchie from her hair, she massaged her scalp, fluffing the crinkly strands in the process, until they flowed down her back.
Staring in the mirror, she squinted. Grabbing her hair in one hand and pulling it away from her face she turned her head to the right, then the left, trying to imagine how she’d look with short hair. She felt the need for a change. A sexy summer cut just might be the thing.
I wonder if Darrell would like…
The thought slipped through her mind as naturally as breathing, but Jerra quickly shut it down. Scowling, she released her hair and walked to the shower. He didn’t care what she thought about his actions, so why should she care about his? Roni’s opinion seemed to be the only one that mattered to him.
Darrell always did what Darrell wanted to do. Damn the consequences. Maybe it was about time she starting putting herself first and doing the same.
Darrell let himself into his house and then disarmed the alarm. Stuffing his keys in his pocket, he cocked his head, listening for any sounds or movement as he walked through the house.
“Jerra?” he called out, not wanting to walk up on her and startle her. When he saw she wasn’t in the family room or the kitchen, he made his way up the stairs to their bedroom.
“Jerra.” He called her name again, but still didn’t get an answer. As soon as he walked into the bedroom, he understood why when he heard water running from the bathroom. She must be taking a shower.
Darrell resigned himself to wait for her to finish. Again, he hoped this didn’t backfire and blow up in his face, but one thing he had never been in life was patient. He wouldn’t rest until this was resolved. He had to try and get Jerra to understand how much she meant to him. She would be upset with him for being there, but he couldn’t let that stop him.
Deciding to at least alert her to the fact that he was in the house so that he didn’t scare the shit out of her when she saw him, he opened the bathroom door and stuck his head in before entering. He stopped when he saw her shampooing her hair. Darrell leaned back against the vanity and took the opportunity to just watch her unguarded for a moment through the glass shower door.
His hungry eyes ran over her hourglass figure, slick and wet from the water. Even after all this time, he never failed to acknowledge how striking his wife was. It still baffled him that he’d gotten so lucky. Women like her usually didn’t go for men like him. It humbled him to hear her say that he saved her during a time she didn’t even know she needed saving. If anything they’d saved each other.
His gaze went to the sleek curtain of black hair she was now rinsing beneath the pelting spray of the water. The straight, glossy strands fell down her back like a heavy curtain, but he knew once it began to dry, her hair would turn into a cloud of thick wild curls she’d have to brush and tame it into submission. Darrell loved her hair. She’d been hinting around again about cutting it. Ultimately, he told her it was her choice; it was just hair, it would grow back, but he always cautioned her to leave enough for him to grab hold of when he was hitting it from behind. Darrell smiled. She would just shake her head and tell him to stop being ridiculous…but he noticed she always changed her mind about cutting it after that.
Darrell tilted his head to the side as he studied her. Jerra was such a gorgeous woman. She had striking coloring, her beautiful smooth skin the hue of natural cocoa. Jerra didn’t know her exact
ethnicity. From what she told him, her mother was African American but she never knew her father, and her mother never talked about him. Jerra suspected he was possibly Hispanic. More than likely Panamanian. She only discovered his name by accident. Darrell offered to try and find him for her if she wanted to, but she said she’d rather not even attempt it. He knew part of the reason was because she was afraid of the type of person she’d find her father to be. Darrell could relate.
Funny how so much in their lives mirrored each other’s. They hadn’t had the best mothers, and didn’t know their fathers. They’d dealt with tragic events in their childhoods, Jerra being raped by her stepfather, and Darrell thrown into an orphanage. Both experienced overwhelming odds in their lives, but had come out stronger because of them. In spite of them. He was determined this time would be no different.
“Darrell, what are you doing here?”
He blinked when he heard her voice. Refocusing, he brought himself out of his inner reverie and saw Jerra’s dark brows drawn together in anger. She clearly wasn’t pleased to see him there, but he’d expected that.
“We need to talk, Jerra. Tonight. I’m not leaving until we do.”
Jerra stared at Darrell with her mouth wide open before closing it with an audible snap. “You scared the hell out of me!”
“I was trying to avoid doin’ that. I only came in the bathroom to let you know I was here.”
“Dammit, Darrell, I asked you to stay away. It’s funny how you pick and choose the times you respect my wishes. God, this is so like you.”
Darrell met her furious gaze head on, his expression calm but determined. “Yeah, it is, so there’s no use in arguing about it.”
His eyes dropped down to caress her body. The moment he saw her in the shower, he’d gotten aroused, but he’d honestly just come here to talk. It took everything in him to push away from the bathroom sink and walk away.
“I’ll be downstairs whenever you finish taking your shower,” he called out.
“You are so full of crap. At least be real about your motives.”
Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, Darrell glanced at her over his shoulder, his forehead creased in confusion. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“You know as well as I do that the real reason you popped in like this was to make sure Renzo wasn’t here.” Her eyes burned with an emotion very close to disgust.
Darrell froze. His face went dark with fury. “What did you just say?”
“I said be real about your motives because…”
Darrell shook his head to stop her, his voice deadly quiet. “No. After that.”
He took a step towards the shower. Then another. Darrell wanted to make sure he saw Jerra’s face clearly when she repeated herself, wanted to watch her lips move and form those words again.
Jerra lifted her chin with a sharp jerk. “You heard me.”
Darrell cocked his head to the side. He desperately wanted to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood what the fuck he thought she’d said. “Couldn’t have.” His grey eyes remained fixed on her like a sniper’s scope locked in on a target. They narrowed dangerously, tracking every single nuance of her expression. “Say it again.”
Jerra swallowed, but didn’t avert her gaze. “You know that’s why you’re here. Are you really going to stand there and act like the thought didn’t cross your mind?”
Darrell’s voice rose a notch to match his temper, which had escalated to a critically high level. “Actually, it didn’t. The question is why did it cross yours?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that’s what you and I do now, keep people from our past relevant in our present.”
The not so subtle dig about the phone calls he made to Roni caused Darrell’s lips to tighten in annoyance, but he wouldn’t allow her to distract him from the current subject. “Are you saying he’s someone special from your past?”
Jerra sent him an ice-cold smile. “You can leave now. Set the alarm on your way out.”
Jerra turned her back to Darrell, effectively ending the conversation. She let her head drop back so that the water cascading from the showerhead flowed over her face like a refreshing waterfall. Angry tears mingled with the water as she wiped a hand over her eyes. She was so mad she trembled.
How dare he? She was so tired of him and his double standards. As long as it was his past continuously rearing its ugly head in their relationship, she was supposed to understand and deal with it. But the moment he thought the shoe was on the other foot he flipped his wig?
Ugh! Men!
Jerra felt a momentary pang of guilt for using Lorenzo to make a point. He’d been nothing but kind to her in law school, had even provided a shoulder for her to cry on once when she’d needed it. Jerra remembered it very clearly. She’d been in a study group with several other students when one of the women there had shown them a picture of her adorable ten-year-old daughter. The little girl Jerra gave up for adoption would’ve been around that same age. Out of nowhere, she’d been assaulted with a myriad of emotions, the most prominent of which was guilt for giving her baby up.
Having noticed her distress but not knowing the reason for it, Lorenzo had asked her to step outside of the café with him for a moment. He hadn’t asked for details, bless him, but had stayed with her until she’d patched up her emotional wounds enough to go back to the table.
Jerra blew out a huge sigh. Yes, she wanted to lash out and hit Darrell where it hurt, but she couldn’t let him continue to believe something that wasn’t true. Not only would it impede a possible relationship with his brother, it wasn’t fair and it certainly wasn’t right.
Without having to look, she knew he was still in the bathroom; her body burned from the heat of his stare. Taking a deep breath, she turned her head to apologize and tell him they could talk once she finished showering, but the words got lodged in her throat. Darrell had pulled his shirt off and carelessly thrown it to the floor, and his fingers were now busy unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she managed to ask in a strangled voice.
Darrell’s answer was to kick off his boots and pull his pants down before stepping out of them as well. He stood up straight and tall in all of his naked, wondrous glory, and moved unhurriedly towards the shower.
Jerra momentarily forgot her outrage. Her eyes swept over him, shamelessly devouring every inch of his beautiful, masculine body. How was it possible for one man to be so utterly…sexy? There wasn’t an ounce of fat to be found anywhere on him; Darrell’s body was rock hard. Pure perfection. His arms and chest were thick with bulging muscles, and his flat abs the perfect backdrop to show off his defined six-pack.
Simply…magnificent.
Her eyes continued downward and settled on the thickness of his burgeoning manhood, erect and unmistakably ready. At rest, it was a thing of absolute beauty, the same as the rest of his body, its girth heavy and full. However, swollen and fully aroused it was a beast that had the power to dominate Jerra into absolute submission.
Hunger surged through her body like an electrical current. She couldn’t control it. Darrell was her weakness, her Achilles heel. She’d always considered herself a strong woman, but she freely admitted her husband’s dick game was her downfall…something he was unequivocally aware of. The only reason she’d been able to hold out last time they’d argued so horribly was simply because he’d allowed it. They both knew he could’ve easily torn down her defenses, but he’d given her what she’d asked for and waited until she was ready. But now, it seemed as if he wasn’t in the mood to be so generous. If that was the case, no Hail Mary in the world would save her from what was about to happen.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
CHAPTER 11
“I thought I asked you to leave.” Jerra backed away as he stepped into the humongous shower stall.
“You did.”
“Then–”
“You were trying to provoke
me and get a reaction. Well, congratulations because you got it.”
Darrell moved towards her, stalking her like a hungry lion and forcing Jerra to take retreating steps to avoid body contact. He didn’t stop until the wall of shower tiles halted her escape.
“Wanna tell me what you meant by that crack about Lorenzo?”
Jerra’s mind went completely blank. When all else failed, deniability was always a good option to fall back on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Darrell held a steady gaze. He didn’t try to argue his point. He didn’t have to. They both heard the ring of untruthfulness that echoed around them like the slow, continuous toll of a bell.
The lawyer in Jerra urged her to present an impenetrable argument of defense, but the predatorial gleam in his eyes told her he not only expected that…he welcomed it.
She caved, quickly changing her mind and taking the coward’s way out. At this point, it was all about self-preservation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” When he licked his lips nice and slow, she held a hand up as if he’d made a move to pounce on her, even though he was still in the same spot. “F-For the record, Lorenzo and I never had a relationship. We were just friends, okay?” she said in a rush. “Darrell seriously, the sooner you let me finish my shower, the sooner we can talk.”
Genuinely amused, Darrell looked down at his erection and laughed. His dick could smell her arousal. The wide tip twitched like a desperate junkie aware that it’s fix was only inches away. “Now you wanna talk?”
Jerra’s eyes followed his. Struggling to keep her voice firm, she cleared her throat. “We’re not having sex.”
