Under Cover

by MaryJanice Davidson

  “You weren’t scared of them?”

  “Why would I be?” he asked, honestly surprised. “Shit, why would you be? Let me tell you something about the young black man in America, Red: He’s more scared of you than you are of him.”

  “Spoken like a man who outweighs me by seventy pounds. Of course you weren’t scared; you can fight. And how in the world would you know what the young black man thinks about anything? You make African-Americans sound like frightened rattlers.”

  “Don’t call us that. For all you know, those kids’ folks came from Jamaica. African-American.” He snorted. “PC bullshit.”

  She said nothing, just raised her eyebrows at him. He laughed. “Oh, hell, busted again. Well, here it is: The whole time I was growing up, I thought I was black. And old habits are the worst to break.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. The woman I called Mama was black, all my friends were black, and just about everyone at my school was black. So I figured I must be, too, just where no one could see. I had to get into a few fights to prove my point, but that was all right.”

  “What, you thought you just weren’t getting as much sun as everyone else in the neighborhood?” she teased.

  “No,” he replied seriously, “but it wasn’t anything I worried about. And after a while, most people let it go. Mama Chuck said I belonged to her, and nobody crossed my mama.”

  “Well, then.” Lori took a sip of her Pepsi.

  “That’s it? That’s all you got to say?”

  “Pretty much.” She thought for a moment. “Yes, that’s it. I am empty of comments.”

  “Oh.” He seemed pleased. “Most people try to talk me out of it. You know. When I tell them I’m black and The Man’s getting me down.”

  She managed to lock back the giggle. “Well, they’re not in your shoes, are they?”

  His face lit up and he slapped his leg. “See, that’s what I always say!”

  “Your mother—Mama Chuck—she sounds like a good woman. I mean, she raised you, and it sounds like she’s still raising kids. If you knew those teenagers.”

  Tired of reaching over for popcorn, he snatched the bucket out of her lap and put it on his knee. “Oh, yeah. She’ll never stop. Can’t resist a stray, that’s her thing. Lucky for me! I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t of taken me in. Shit, she took me in when my own father—”

  Long pause.

  “When your own father?” she prompted.

  “Never mind. Um, look, the previews are starting.”

  That was the last he spoke for the next two hours.

  Chapter Six

  “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” Peter said out of nowhere.

  Lori glanced at him in surprise. They were back at his apartment, finishing the pizza he’d ordered. And paid for, she thought with an internal chuckle.

  “Not a good… why? It was…” Fun? Scary? Educational? “… entertaining.”

  “And dumb. I saw all the people looking at you. You stand out, even in a crowded mall.” He was staring at her moodily, which was unnerving, to say the least. “Nobody can mistake that hair color, and if they get close enough to see your eyes…” He shook his head. “Dumb idea. And I know better.”

  She dropped her pizza slice and sputtered in surprise. “They—you—they were looking at you, Peter, not me! You’re so big, people can’t help but look.” She’d seen it; how could she have missed it? The double takes, and the rubberneckers craning to get a better look. Of course he was forbidding looking. Who wouldn’t stop to stare? “I’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

  He peered at her closely, almost as if he were looking straight into her brain. “Jeez, and you actually believe it! Red, don’t you know? You’re gorgeous. You could work for Penthouse, make the really big bucks.”

  “Uh… thank you. I’m almost positive that was a compliment. But you’re wrong. My hair’s too blond to be red, and too red to be blond. My eyes are so light they’re really no color at all. Boring. And I’m too bony.”

  “You could stand to gain some weight, but that’s about it. About the rest, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

  “I don’t think we should be talking about this,” she said solemnly. “It’s inappropriate.”

  “Also, you’re cute as hell when you blush.”

  “I’m not blushing,” she snapped. “It’s a residual effect from my hangover.”

  He chortled and got up to toss their paper plates into the garbage. “When’s this lawyer’s office open?”

  “Eight AM.”

  “OK, so we got…” He glanced at the clock above the stove. “… twelve hours to kill. Wanna play Nude Twister?”

  “No.”

  “How about Nude Twenty Questions?”

  “How about not.”

  “Internal conflict!” he said suddenly, startling her.

  “What? Do we have to take our clothes off to play?”

  “No, no. I just put my finger on what was wrong with that chick flick we saw this afternoon. I mean, after Sandra Bullock’s character solved the mystery, Tom Cruise’s character shoulda gone on his merry way. There was no reason for them to get together, but they did anyway. It didn’t ring right.”

  “You—uh—you give a lot of thought to movies, don’t you?”

  “Greatest art form in the history of the planet.”

  “Even Starship Troopers?”

  “What’s wrong with Starship Troopers?” he said defensively. “It’s got everything—war, true love, broken hearts, heroic deaths, good triumphing over bad.”

  “You’re right. A hundred percent right. A splendid cinematic tale. Really!”

  “Good,” he replied with an evil grin. “Then you won’t mind if we watch it. Right now.”

  “Ugh. I mean, yippee!”

  “Red, I swear…” He walked into the living room, shaking his head. “You are the worst liar.”

  He was on her, he was hurting her, and she couldn’t make him stop, would have to take it, take him, and oh, where was her mother, and why wasn’t she saving her?

  Con’s face was above her, twisted with lust, with hate, his knee between her thighs, shoving, pushing, hurting her, and she bit her lips until they bled to lock back the begging and pleading she wanted to pour forth.

  And in the background, her stepfather’s voice, “What, now? You can’t do that now, her mother will be home from the hospital any minute.” But he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t get off her, wouldn’t—

  “Red?”

  —and now his hands were on her shoulders, shaking her, but he was uncharacteristically gentle, and she was surprised even as she was grateful, even as she was—

  “Red?”

  —awake.

  She sat up with a gasp. The room whirled about her in the dark, adding to her disorientation. Where was she? Was her mother nearby? What had happened to her? Was she in the mansion? Was her stepfather home? Where was Con? Where was Con?

  “Where is he?” she asked muzzily. “I have to see his eyes. If I see his eyes, I’ll know.”

  “Nobody here but us out-of-work bums, Red.”

  She could barely see him in the dark. Odd, how that huge shape looming over her in the dark wasn’t in the least frightening. “P—Peter?”

  “Bad dream? Dumb question, ‘course it was. Sounds like you had a real fun childhood.” In the dark, his voice was rough and amused at the same time.

  “I—I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I must have. Is the movie over? We’re in your apartment, right?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s not your fault, though.”

  Her mother’s exact words. She looked up at him. “What? What did you say?”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s this fucking couch, it’s evil. It gives everyone nightmares. C’mere.” He bent and lifted her easily, then carried her back to the bedroom. He was shirtless, clad only in boxer shorts, and when she rested her cheek against his chest it was like resting against a warm, breathing boulder.

/>   He set her down on the bed and awkwardly pulled the covers over her. He cleared his throat, as if about to speak, then simply stepped away.

  She leaned forward and grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me alone in the dark,” she whispered. She could hardly see his face in the gloom, but the sheer bulk of his body was comforting.

  She heard him shift his weight “Uh, I sorta have to.”

  “Please.”

  “Lori, I can’t share a bed with you and not jump you. Sorry, but you’re gorgeous and I’m a pig and that’s the way it is.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Yeah, I know, I should—what’d you say?”

  “I said that’s fine.”

  His big hand closed over hers, and then he was—no!—gently prying her fingers away from his arm. “Sorry, Red. I must be out of my mind. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m saying this. But you’re not yourself. Shit, I’m not myself.”

  “Peter…”

  “Thanks, though,” he added hastily. “I mean, I’m a lucky guy, don’t get the wrong idea. It’s the nicest offer I’ve had in—what year is this?”

  “I’m in perfect control of myself,” she said coolly. “And you work for me, I believe.” She reached again, found the waistband of his shorts, pulled. “Last chance, Random.”

  She was proud of herself; she knew she sounded tough and calm. But inwardly she couldn’t stop shouting, begging, Oh please please please don’t leave me alone in the dark, you’ll be big and you’ll be rough but I don’t care, just stay and hold me after, I only want that, please, just that.

  He came to her, then, with a long sigh that might have been surrender.

  She glanced at the clock. Two twenty-two in the morning. By two-thirty, they’d be snuggling, and she could have what she craved so badly.

  Chapter Seven

  He wasn’t rough.

  He was a revelation.

  She had braced herself for fumbling and panting and dim pain and bad breath, for that was what she knew, and how she’d been initiated into this oddly tiresome act.

  Instead, it had been like flying.

  His mouth, as he took her in his arms and kissed her, was surprisingly gentle. He kissed her for an age, and when she sighed, his tongue slipped into her mouth.

  Still kissing her, he caught the edge of her T-shirt and, instead of jerking it up to her neck, simply bunched the fabric in his fist and rubbed it across her nipples. She squirmed at the sensation—he was touching her breasts, but she could feel it in her stomach. Meanwhile, he kissed the delicate flesh behind her ears, then caught her earlobe in his mouth and sucked.

  “Whoa!” she said, as a bolt of pure pleasure hit her between the legs. At least, that’s what it felt like. She had no idea there was a nerve connecting her ear and her vulva. Today was a day for surprises, it seemed.

  Peter was already backing off. “Right, right. Bad idea. Told you. I’ll just be in the shower for about half an hour or so—”

  She grabbed his shoulders and yanked him down to her. “More,” she said. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see his wary expression. “Do more.”

  His forehead smoothed out and he laughed. “You’re weird.”

  “Less talking. More touching.”

  “OK, Red.”

  “Lori.”

  “Sorry, Red—ow! Don’t bite. Well, OK, bite, but give a guy some warning next time.”

  “It’s not Red,” she complained as he bent down and kissed her stomach. “It’s not even blond.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Well, it’s not.”

  “Are we gonna talk about your hair, or fu—uh, have sex?”

  “Can’t we do both?” she asked primly, and laughed as he tickled her stomach. He eased her—well, his—sweatpants down, tossed them over the bed, and found her bare. He stroked the smooth skin of her legs, cupped her calves in his hands, then bent and nuzzled the tuft of hair between her legs.

  “Red,” he said, his breath warm on her thighs.

  “Now cut that out.”

  “Well, it is. Quite a bit darker than what’s on your head, in fact.” His hands were between her knees, spreading them apart, and he made a greedy sound, low in his throat, as she parted before his gaze. “Gorgeous, too. like a glistening pink pearl.”

  Before she could reply—not that she had any idea what to say—he had bent his head and she could feel him kissing her slick flesh. She closed her eyes, enjoying the subtly sensual feeling, but they flew open when his tongue darted out and caressed her clitoris, which instantly began to throb. There was nothing subtle about that sensation. It was glorious and it demanded her full attention.

  His tongue was darting and licking, and when she felt it actually snake inside her she thought she would implode. As it was, she threw her head back and arched her back, digging her heels into the mattress to brace her legs. She could smell a lovely musk in the air. We’re making that smell, she thought dazedly.

  “Christ, you taste good,” he muttered. “like flowers in the ocean.” She felt his thumbs spreading her apart, and then he was nuzzling her clit while licking at the same time, and she groaned. “Close?”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Never mind.” Now he was sucking on her clit while his tongue swirled and whirled, and she felt warmth explode in her belly and radiate downward. She was arching toward him, offering as much of herself as she could, and then she felt her orgasm bloom inside her like a black orchid and cried out at the ceiling.

  “I love that sound,” he said, his tone pure male satisfaction. He came up beside her and pulled the T-shirt over her head. “Good?”

  “Oh, God, yes.”

  “Not too fast?”

  “No.”

  “Ready for more?”

  “Actually, I’d like a nap.” His face fell, and she bopped him lightly in the shoulder. “I’m kidding, Peter.”

  “Thank Christ!” He kissed her and she could taste herself, a novel and entirely exciting experience. She licked his lower lip and then sucked it into her mouth. She felt him take her hand and place it on him. Her fingers closed around his erection and she nearly shuddered with need. She’d never wanted anything in her life as much as she wanted the hot, hard, throbbing length that filled her hand so completely.

  She tugged him toward her.

  “Uh, Lori…”

  “Do more,” she ordered. He had been—it had been—and that was just the warm-up! She was wild for the main event, and anxious for his pleasure.

  “You’re not a virgin or anything, are you?”

  She let go of his cock, not without regret, and stared up at him. His chest was heaving lightly as he panted, and she put her palms on the warm flesh. “No, I’m not a virgin.”

  He shifted under her touch, forcing her palms to touch his nipples. “You just seem sort of—uh—surprised.”

  “I am. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had. Of course, there’ve only been two.” She covered her mouth and giggled.

  “Oh,” he said, with evident relief. “OK I just wanted to make sure—OK.” He reached over, fumbled open the bedside drawer, and then she heard him tear open the condom packet.

  “Let me do it,” she said, sitting up. “I took a class.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “I certainly am not. We used bananas. I got an A!”

  “Lucky me.”

  She could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice and resisted the urge to bite him again.

  “Why’d you take a class?”

  She shrugged. “I thought if I learned more I’d enjoy it more.” She pulled the condom out, tossed the foil packet in the general direction of the bedside table, and pressed the rolled disc to his glistening tip. Then slowly, while kissing his chest—and giving him a quick nip—she rolled it down to his lush nest of pubic hair. It took some time and care. He was enormous.

  “Ahhhhh,” he said, pulling her up for a deep kiss. “You’ve got the touch, all
right.” She felt him cup one of her breasts, testing the weight, and then he eased her back. “Lori, you’re so beautiful. Not just your face and hair, but everything else, too. I can’t believe no one ever told you what a knockout you are.”

  “I can’t believe you’re so good at this.”

  He bent to her and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

  “Did you take a class?”

  He laughed around her flesh. “No. Lost my virginity when I was twelve. That was a long time ago. Had some practice since then, I guess.” He kissed her palm, then slipped his hands beneath her, squeezed her buttocks for a long moment, savoring her, then lifted her toward him. She spread her legs and arched toward him as he entered with excruciating care.

  It was like—it was like being entered by something divine, something beyond her, and although he was the largest man she’d ever seen, she seemed to fit him perfectly. Before he was even all the way in, he was stroking shallowly, and she whimpered and instinctively wrapped her legs around him to force him closer.

  “I want to feel you,” she whispered in his ear. “Don’t be careful.”

  He obliged and she felt him shove all the way home, then pull back and thrust again, hard enough to slam the headboard against the wall. She shrieked his name and met his thrust. For a while there was no sound but their harsh breathing and the headboard slamming against the wall. She felt his hands on her breasts, squeezing, felt his thumbs running across her nipples, and made fists and forced them to her sides.

  “OK?” he panted.

  “Yessssss. I’m afraid I’ll scratch—”

  “I don’t mind, sweetie.”

  So she put her arms around him, and when he yanked her toward him at the exact moment of his thrust, she buried her nails in his shoulders.

  “Uh-oh,” he said, and was he laughing again? He was! “I’m close, darlin’. Thinking about baseball isn’t going to cut it.” He reached down and rubbed his thumb across her clit, so very lightly she could barely feel his touch, but that, combined with the sensation of being completely filled with his cock, was enough to send her spinning into another orgasm. She bucked against him, and then he stiffened and she saw his eyes roll up, and he collapsed over her.