She deflated right in front of me. “Unlike you, Lisa, I have no intentions of ignoring what Mama Sari told me. I just need to figure out how to go about living my truth. This isn’t the most progressive city.”
I sighed. Although I’d seen the city make strides since first moving here as a college freshman, I had to admit she was right. A large majority of the population was heavily religious and allowed their “faith” to color their opinions on almost everything.
“But,” Trisha continued, “despite that, I know that I have work to do and I plan on doing it. I don’t want to be alone, and I have plenty of love to give.” She gave me a challenging look.
I pursed my lips and nodded. I understood exactly what she was saying to me but that didn’t change the bone-deep fear that I felt. Still, there was no point in arguing with her further. I hugged her once more.
“Get some sleep; I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Thankfully, she didn’t say anything else. She nodded and opened the front door, watching as I made my way to the truck, where Jeremiah hopped out and ushered me inside the cab. The drive from Trisha’s house to the one Jeremiah and I shared was only ten minutes long. Too big to fit in the garage, Jeremiah parked the truck in the driveway under a custom-built shed. He jumped out to retrieve my suitcase, and I assumed the task of trying to wake the heavy sleeper in the backseat. After a couple minutes of unsuccessful attempts, Jeremiah opened the back door and lifted Ja’mya out of the seat, draping her over his shoulder.
I unlocked the front door and stepped to the side as he carried her into the house. He toed off his shoes, and I did the same before removing Ja’mya’s sneakers from her feet and following him upstairs. He made a left at the landing, walking past the two guest rooms to deposit our daughter into her room intent on putting her in the bed. I turned in the opposite direction and entered the master suite, rolling my suitcase into the walk-in closet. I was not in the mood to unpack so it could sit for one night. By the time I had undressed and taken a quick shower, Jeremiah was already in the bed and under the covers.
The overhead light was off, but the room was dimly lit from the lamp on his nightstand. I crossed the room and crawled into the bed, sliding my naked body under the covers and scooting up against his side. I smiled as our skin touched, and I realized he was naked as well. His arm came from behind his head to wrap around me and pull me even closer to him so that our lips could meet. I moaned into his mouth and he reached down to squeeze my cheeks. I pushed up on my arms and threw a thick thigh across his body to straddle him.
Immediately, his hands reached for and cupped my breasts, thumbs playing with my nipples and bringing them to stiff peaks. I arched my back, thrusting them forward even more in invitation, and he responded by sitting up and capturing one nipple between his lips. I whimpered and ground against him as he laved the first one then the other breast with equal attention. Beneath me, his hardness throbbed against my slick heat. I needed him inside of me ASAP. Leaning back, I reached between us and grasped the base of his erection. As I slid it upright, the tip grazed my entrance, and we both moaned simultaneously at the contact.
Jeremiah abandoned my breasts and pushed my hands away, grabbing his silken steel with one of his and using the thumb on his free hand to play with my sensitive clit. My abdomen curved inward and my thighs instinctively tried to close, squeezing around his waist.
“Uh uhn,” he murmured. “Open up for me.”
Trembling, I forced my thighs back open, crying out when he increased the pressure on the bundle of nerves at my apex. His intent focus on my exposed center made me flush with wanting. He removed his fingers and used his dick to slap my clit a couple of times before continuing his ministrations. I cried out from the pleasure that zipped through me at his expert maneuvers, and when he pinched my clit, twisting the button between his thumb and forefinger, I threw my head back and moaned as my orgasm hit me full-on.
Swiftly, he rose up and came to his knees, grabbing me by my hips to keep me against him. He leaned forward, placing me in a missionary position at the foot of our king-size bed as my back hit the mattress, and slid effortlessly inside of me. Immediately, he began to work his hips in a rhythm that never failed to make my body dance. My back bowed off the bed as he repeatedly brushed his glans against the spot that made me unravel. My hips rose—to meet him or in an effort to keep him from that spot, I don’t know—and in response, he grabbed a pillow from behind him and slid it underneath my hips.
He next sat back on his haunches and used the heels of his hands to push my knees toward the mattress. When he was satisfied with the butterfly position he had me in, he jackhammered into me until I was in danger of giving myself a black eye with my free-flying breasts. I wrapped an arm under my ample bosom and used the other to reach for him. He came to me without hesitation, bending down while amazingly keeping up his fast pace. The kiss was ravenous and wild. Our teeth clanked and noses slammed into each other but neither of us was willing to slow down the pace or tame our movements. The urgency, the…roughness was necessary right now.
Not until my chest burned from lack of air did I turn my head to break the kiss, gasping in a lungful of air and exhaling quickly before pulling him back toward me. The kiss was shorter this time. I pressed my head against the mattress and opened my eyes to look at him.
“J,” I rasped.
His eyes popped open and those chestnut browns stared down at me with so much desire wrapped in love that I thought I might burst with the intensity of it all. I released my breasts and grabbed his sweat-dampened bald head with both hands, pulling his forehead to meet mine.
“Gimme my son.”
The heat in his eyes cranked up to one thousand degrees, but he surprised me by pulling out of me. With no time to process what was going on, he flipped me over onto my stomach and grabbed my hips, hiking my ass in the air. He shoved a second pillow underneath me and with my knees no longer touching the bed, I reached and grabbed a hold of the end of the mattress. I was twitching with anticipation. With those three words, I had unleashed the beast inside of Jeremiah Saul Hawkins.
In one smooth motion, he was back inside of me, causing me to mewl like a kitten. He dug his fingers into the flesh of my waist with one hand and grabbed the base of my braided bun with the other. With one firm tug on my hair, he forced my head back, lifting my chest and exposing my neck. He leaned forward and pressed his chest against my back. His lips trailed my shoulder before he bit down on my sweat-drenched skin. I cried out against the sharp sting of his teeth that was instantly replaced by the cool rasping of his tongue.
He pulled away from me but kept his grip on my hair as he started to move inside of me once more. The more he pulled my hair, the faster his thrusts, and I was almost lifted from the pillows as my body jerked back and forth like a ragdoll. I mumbled incoherently as I was inundated with a variety of sensations. The sting from him pulling my hair combined with the ecstasy from him repeatedly knocking against the front of my walls had my mind and body ready to combust. My skin was on fire and the heat of my second orgasm rushed from my toes to my ears in preparation for an explosion.
As Jeremiah neared his own release, his thrusts grew deeper and harder, and they sparked my blood. He released my hair and I fell forward, screaming into the mattress as I convulsed. My release triggered his own and he froze above me, groaning my name in a strangled voice. He dropped lifelessly onto the mattress beside me, pulling me from the pillows to hold me against his chest as we both came down from the highest of highs. When the aftershocks of my orgasm died down and I no longer spontaneously squeezed around him, I rolled over until we were chest to chest and placed a kiss at the base of his neck.
“So, hair pulling, huh? That’s new.”
He laughed and I felt it rumble through his chest where my head rested.
“I’d been thinking about doing that since the minute you came home with those braids. They just did something to me.”
I smirked. “Yeah, t
urned you into a sadist.”
He reached down and smacked my butt, eliciting a yelp from me.
“Well, you like that shit, so what does that make you? A masochist?”
I shook my head and rubbed my stinging rear. “What makes you think I liked it?”
I felt the heat of his gaze as he stared down at me, but I refused to look up at him. I did like the feel of him pulling my hair. In fact, I loved it. But I didn’t want to admit that.
“I don’t know. It could be how wet your pussy got when I wrapped my hand around those braids. Or how hard your nipples got. Or the sounds—”
“Okay, okay! I get it.”
Jeremiah gently rolled me onto my back and lifted my legs in the air, kneeling in between them and draping an ankle over each of his shoulders. I stared up at the gorgeous man I called my own.
“What do you get, Lee?”
I pursed my lips. Of course, he would make me say it. He wouldn’t be Jeremiah if he didn’t want total clarification.
“I get that my enjoyment of your barbarism was evident.”
He laughed loudly and shook his head as his attention dropped to my opening. I sucked in a breath and bit my lip as he rubbed his hardness against my slit.
“Your mouth is so smart, Lee.”
“So!” I shot back. “You love it.”
He licked his lips and my pulse quickened. “You damn straight.” He pressed forward until his tip slipped inside of me then he pulled back.
I exhaled. “So what’s the point in even saying it?”
Again, he pushed inside of me a couple of inches before, again, retreating.
“Just pointing out what I love about you.”
I whimpered as he left the tip in this time.
“What else do you love about me?”
He gave me half of his length.
“I love how ocean-wet this pussy always is.” He pinched one of my nipples and I moaned. “I love these juicy-ass titties.” His hands slid under my body and gripped my behind. “I love how fat this ass is, and I especially love these stripes you earned from carrying my baby.” Finally, his fingers trailed the faint stretch marks that covered my lower belly.
“All you love is my looks?”
He glared at me and pushed forward until he was fully seated inside of me.
“I’m not even going to acknowledge that shit.”
I gasped as he pulled back and thrust forward fully.
“I must have—ah—hit a nerve.”
“You know damn well that’s not true.” Sliding his hands under my butt, he lifted me a few inches in the air and begin moving at a steady pace.
“I—don’t know—mmm—a thing. Shoot, J!”
“Naw, I don’t wanna hear that shit. I don’t know why, but I love how you act like you don’t know much I love you. I get to show you over and over again and I love that shit.” He gripped my hips and increased his pace. I grabbed my breasts, once again in danger of self-injury. His voice became strained but he continued talking.
“I love how you carry yourself. You know you’re the shit and it shows. I love how amazing of a mother you are to my baby. I love that you’re mine; that you chose me back.”
Engaging abdominal muscles that rarely get acknowledged, I sat up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his lips to mine in a frantic kiss. I don’t know where he got that crazy notion that I pretended to be unaware of the depth of his love for me, but everything else he said had the blood roaring through my veins. Jeremiah was the epitome of love in my eyes. To me, this man hung the moon and the stars. I had no idea what love was until he slid into my life with a corny pickup line. All of me was all of him.
The significance of my thoughts hit me with an inexplicable suddenness, and I gasped into his mouth as realization slammed into me. Jeremiah was the possessor of my heart. I gave it to him so many years ago that walking around without it was as natural to me as breathing air.
Jeremiah was who Mama Sari predicted would die if I didn’t leave him.
As another orgasm crested, tears poured from my eyes and I clung to him in desperation. Unaware that I was falling apart in his lap, he buried his face in my neck and cried out his own release. Several minutes passed of us locked like that, wrapped around each other, connected in the most intimate way possible and breathing in each other’s air. When Jeremiah scooted to the edge of the bed, instead of releasing him, I tightened my grip around his neck as he stood and walked us into our bathroom. He held me against him with one arm around my waist and reached into the glass shower stall with the other and switched on the spray.
After about thirty seconds, he stepped into the stall and turned so that the spray from the shower head didn’t touch my hair. I wanted to start crying all over again at his thoughtfulness. He grasped my hips with both hands and lifted me up until his now softened penis fell out of me. I unlocked my legs from around his waist and allowed him to lower me to the tiled floor. He turned around, presumably to grab the shower gel, but as soon as his back was to me, I hugged him from behind and placed my face against his damp and warm skin.
How was I supposed to turn my back on this man? How could I leave him and live to make sure that he did the same? It was impossible. Leaving him would kill me. I would be a mess. No good to anyone, including Ja’mya.
I pressed my lips to his spine and whispered, “I love you.”
He spun in my arms and tilted my head back, eyes roving my face intently. “I love you, too.” Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss that was devoid of heat, but full of emotion, to my lips. I sighed and gripped the defined wings of his back. I had no idea how many more times I would get to experience moments like this. Before the kiss could deepen, Jeremiah took a step back and that’s when I noticed that he held my loofah. He grabbed my body wash and squirted out way more than the quarter-sized dollop that I usually used. With a twirl of his finger in the air, he motioned for me to turn around. I did as instructed and sighed contentedly as he proceeded to wash me.
I felt movement in the air and glanced behind me to see that he’d crouched down. He ran the loofah over my legs and even lifted each of my feet to swipe across the bottom. With a gentle push at my hip, he spun me until I faced him so that he could repeat his ministrations on my front. He cleaned everywhere but between my legs, but when he held the loofah under the spray to rinse all of the soap from it and crouched down in front of me, I smiled. He tapped on my outer thigh and I spread my legs to allow him to swipe against my sore puffiness. Way gentler than I would have done, he brushed once, twice, a third time and pressed a kiss just below my belly button before standing up and rinsing the loofah once more and hanging it on a hook mounted on the wall.
I reached past him to grab his preferred soap and hand towel and proceeded to show him just as much care and attention as he had shown me. Dropping to my haunches, I started at his feet and worked my way up his body that looked as if it had been carved from onyx by an artist who was known for her attention to detail. I thought back on his words from earlier as we made love. I had chosen him but it was only after he chose me first. If he hadn’t made the first move, we would never have made it to where we were now. Now I couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t chosen me, would death still loom near?
And what kind of cruel irony required me to hurt this man—hurt myself—in order to keep him alive?
Chapter Four
Lisa
The next day, I was operating on autopilot. My head was in a fog as I ran through a dozen different scenarios that allowed me to stay with Jeremiah without him dying. Since I couldn’t fathom how he would die, all I was doing was torturing myself. When the bell rang, signaling lunchtime for my students, I breathed a sigh of relief. I grabbed my lunch bag and ushered my students to the cafeteria before heading toward the front of the school where Candice’s office was located. After a light knock, I waited for her to call out for me to enter before I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. She smiled up at me from behind her
desk and stood to give me a hug.
Candice and I met three years ago when she transferred from a sister location of our private school in Louisiana. She was a sweet and thoughtful person, which were excellent characteristics to have as the guidance counselor and licensed therapist for an elementary school.
“Hey, friend.”
“Hey, girl.” I scooted my chair up to her desk and began to pull containers of food out of my bag. As I spread cream cheese on a bagel, I noticed that Candice hadn’t even touched her food yet. I glanced up at her to see her chewing on her pale pink painted bottom lip.
“What’s wrong, Candy?”
She sighed and turned remorseful eyes on me. “Lisa, I just want to apologize again for my cousin’s behavior this weekend.”
I nodded. Although she’d apologized profusely on the plane ride back, I couldn’t say that I didn’t appreciate her saying it again. Her cousin had been awful, and if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be out of my mind with worry about Jeremiah’s impending demise.
“I appreciate you saying that.” I bit into my bagel and waited. Candice’s demeanor gave the impression that she had more to say.
“I wish I could say that I didn’t know why she acted that way, but that would be a lie. She’s always been…difficult.”
My brows met. “Wait a minute. If she’s always been difficult, why would you even invite her to go with us? Why set us up that way?”
Candice shook her head, and her auburn hair flew from side to side. “No, it wasn’t like that! And, for the record, I didn’t invite her. I told her about our trip because I wanted her to watch Jingles for me. That’s when she started begging to go with us. She swore up and down that she wouldn’t be a problem, but I know now that she just can’t help herself. When we got back, she cried and told me that she tried to hold her negativity back but she just couldn’t.”
My lip curled in disgust. I was unimpressed with this story. Fallon was full of crap, and I couldn’t believe Candice was falling for it. Although, if she was quick to give up on someone with obvious issues, then she wouldn’t be a great counselor so I suppose her…understanding and tolerance made sense. I swallowed the last bite of my bagel and cracked open a container of olives and thinly sliced salami.
To Build a Vow Page 5
