Heavenly Match

by Niobia Bryant

  He was willing to admit he wanted her even more.

  ∞

  “Where are you, Anika?” he asked in a childlike singsong fashion, but with a menacing tone.

  He had waited all night outside her town house. No sign of her. Where was she?

  His eyes remained focused on the darkened windows of her home. A home so different from the roach-and-rat-infested room he rented in a boardinghouse for men across town. He didn’t have but twelve dollars to his name. His life was in a shambles and he blamed it all on Anika.

  Under the cloak of darkness, he crossed the street with long, even strides. His hands dug deep into the pockets of the worn trench coat that was far too small for his tall frame. With darting eyes, he saw that the street was completely empty.

  He wished he could get inside and leave his mark. Instead, he settled on relieving himself on her steps.

  “I’ll hold her hostage before I kill her,” he mumbled to himself, laughing at the image of her tied and gagged, begging for her life.

  Shaking the last of his release from his limp member, he rammed it back into his pants, before zipping up.

  He envisioned what she was doing at that moment. Where else could she be but with a man?

  Whoever the fool was, he could have her. Her body wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her life. His hands clenched into fists, imagining her neck within his grasp. Soon. He had nothing but time on his hands.

  He looked down at the digital display of the beeper he had found. The glass was cracked and it didn’t work, other than to tell time. He used it since he didn’t have a watch.

  It was 1:38 a.m.

  Feeling tired, he headed down the street to begin his long walk home.

  ∞

  Anika’s whole family had already gathered by the time the foursome arrived at her parents’ home. She could feel the curious looks her relatives gave her as she introduced Devon as Chloe’s husband, and Deshawn as his twin. She knew as soon as they had her alone that they would barrage her with questions.

  Is he your boyfriend?

  How old is he?

  Where does he work?

  When’s the wedding?

  Yadda-yadda-yadda.

  Anika said a quick prayer for mercy, especially since she hadn’t slept a wink last night. That wasn’t because of her usual nightmares. Hot, erotic dreams of sexing Deshawn on top of Chloe’s coffee table had plagued her endlessly. Of the two, Anika didn’t know which was worse.

  Anika let her eyes follow Deshawn. He did look quite handsome in the jet-black, heavy cords he wore with a ribbed, charcoal turtleneck sweater. The scent of his cologne filled the air as he moved, teasing and titillating her.

  Since they had arrived, the charmer worked the house like a pro, flitting from group to group spontaneously, joining in on conversations, telling jokes, and becoming liked with southern ease. He certainly was more laid-back than his twin, who had hardly left Chloe’s side.

  Why’d he have to be so sexy?

  She admitted only to herself that if he wasn’t from another state and such a hopeless flirt that she would sex him until he howled to the moon. But alas, what-ifs were just like dreams . . . something you only hoped came true.

  Deshawn looked up at that exact moment and caught Anika’s eyes on him.

  He winked and smiled broadly at her, causing her heart to flip-flop in her chest.

  “He’s a very handsome man . . . Well, both of them are.”

  Anika turned to look over her shoulder at her mother. “He’s a’ight,” she muttered, biting the clear MAC gloss from her mouth. “No Wesley, that’s for sure.”

  Tasha Foxx laughed softly. “Has to be more than all right the way you’re staring at him.”

  Anika became flushed, feeling the heat of embarrassment permeate her neck and face. “I was not—”

  “Yes, you were . . . and he keeps looking all up in your face too. Anything you want to tell me about?” she asked, hugging her daughter to her side.

  At Anika’s silence, she nodded slowly. “Okay, since you’re not staring, how ’bout helping me set the food out for this hungry family of ours?”

  Forcing herself not to look over at him again, Anika followed her mother out of the crowded den into the kitchen. She groaned inwardly as soon as she saw her mother’s sister, Auntie Luv, stirring in a pot. The woman was a known busybody. A lovable one, but a busybody nonetheless.

  “Just who I wanted to see.” Her voice boomed off the walls. She was the spitting image of Mabel King, the mother from the seventies sitcom What’s Happening?

  Lord, help me. “Hi Auntie Luv.” Anika smiled, moving to kiss her soft, plush cheek.

  “You and Chloe sure hooked some fine ones . . . and twins. Double the pleasure, double the fun!”

  “Deshawn’s not my—”

  “Makes me want to be twenty years younger,” she said, touching her hand to her ample bosom.

  “He’s not—” Anika tried again, lightly touching her aunt’s padded shoulder.

  “And got money too,” Luv continued, as she emptied the pot of steaming collards and seasoning meats into a large ceramic bowl.

  Anika looked to her mother for assistance, but Tasha was busy slicing up her homemade corn bread. “Auntie Luv—”

  “Big, strapping country men like that. Uhm, uhm, uhm,” Luv continued, eyeing her niece, whom she loved like a daughter. “They got them big feet and hands too. Girl, you better go easy.”

  “Luv!” Tasha exclaimed, eyeing her sister in playful shame.

  “What? We’re all grown, and everybody knows what they say about men with big feet.”

  Anika wanted to crawl into a hole. Instead, she grabbed the platter of sliced ham and backed out of the kitchen with a weak smile. Setting it down on the dining room table, she turned, only to be surrounded by her three older brothers, Jamal, Abduhl, and Trevor, and her younger brother, Malcolm.

  Anika stiffened her spine, feeling a headache coming on. Growing up, they had all been protective of her; even Malcolm had. The older she got the more protective they became.

  “He’s not my—” she began to explain, her hands on her hips.

  “You finally picked a good one, huh, big sister?” Malcom smiled, his dreads swinging just above his broad shoulders.

  Her eyes widened like saucers as her other brothers readily agreed. They had never approved of any of her boyfriends. How in the devil did they let a man like Deshawn fall under the radar? Was there anyone that man couldn’t charm?

  And what was he telling people? He was not her man! Anika looked down at her hands, wondering if they’d fit around Deshawn’s neck.

  Through a break in her brothers’ bodies, she saw him huddled in a corner with her Granny Bert. They were looking at photos, too! Anika shrieked, her pretty face dismayed as she pushed through Jamal’s and Abduhl’s massive bodies with all the strength she could muster. Trying not to appear crazy, she quickly walked over to the pair.

  “And this is Sugarplum at her prom,” she heard her grandmother saying to Deshawn. “These were her more awkward years, you know?”

  He smiled at the older woman, who reminded him of Nana Lil. “She looks beautiful to me.”

  “Aren’t you sweet?” Granny Bert cooed, reaching up with a frail hand to pat his chiseled cheek.

  “Your granddaughter brings out the best in me,” he said, charming the socks off of her. “Now who’s this big head she took with her?”

  “Her very first boyfriend,” Bert said, touching the face of the tuxedo-clad, high-top-fade-wearing boy in the picture as if it would help her remember his name. She looked up and noticed Anika standing in front of them. “What was this boy’s name again, Sugarplum?”

  Anika’s eyes dulled. Memories came rushing at her as if she stood in the middle of oncoming traffic. Each recollection collided with the previous, just to be knocked away by the next. Each one a piece of a past she didn’t want to recall. A past that was chasing her in her dreams at night. She literal
ly had to shake it off.

  Deshawn frowned at the strained looked on Anika’s face. For a minute she looked distant, as if her thoughts were focused elsewhere. It was evident that something was troubling her.

  “Hakeem,” she finally answered, her voice stiff. Focusing on her current man problem, Anika eyed Deshawn. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Will you excuse me, Ms. Bert?”

  “Call me Granny, everyone does,” she told him, closing the large photo album with aged hands.

  “Sure, Granny,” he said in an exaggerated tone as he threw her that winning smile. He took the large photo album from her hands, turning to Anika with it. “Here, Sugarplum, put this up for us, will you?”

  Anika winced visibly at his use of her childhood name, before she snatched it from his hands and turned away.

  “And, baby? Could you bring me something to drink?” he called behind her.

  She whirled like the Tazmanian Devil, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. “Could I what?” she snapped.

  Granny Bert looked aghast. “Anika Foxx! What’s wrong with you?” she chastised her quickly. “That’s no way to keep a man. Now go fix that drink.”

  He’s not my man!

  The grin on his handsome face was of total satis­faction as Anika turned to immediately obey her grandmother.

  “She’s so mean to me sometimes, Granny,” she heard him say in a feigned hurt voice.

  “Just wait until I get you alone,” Anika muttered, replacing the photo album in the mahogany cabinet.

  “Well, congratulations, Anika. I didn’t know Deshawn and you were an item,” Chloe teased, a hand protectively on her still flat womb.

  Anika’s face was serious as she eyed her friend. “I’m going to kill him and do innocent women across America a big favor.”

  Chloe’s laughter was soft. “Oh, Deshawn’s harmless,” she said, as she followed Anika’s fast-retreating figure into the now empty kitchen.

  That’s what you think, Anika thought, thinking of the heated moments they had shared last night, as she poured a tall glass of Aunti Luv’s delicious homemade fruit punch. “Will you give this to him for me? I might throw it in his lying face, with his aggravating self. He has everyone thinking we’re a couple and they’re all just eating it up.”

  Chloe accepted the offered glass. “My brother-in- law is one charming man,” she said, turning to leave the room. “All he needs is a good woman to slow him down.”

  Anika leaned her womanly frame against the island in the center of the kitchen. Her best friend’s words echoed in the empty room as if she’d shouted into the Grand Canyon. All he needs is a good woman to slow him down.

  ∞

  “Would saying I’m sorry help?”

  Anika stiffened where she stood, enjoying the serenity and quiet of the snow-covered outdoors. Her enjoyment of the winter wonderland immediately ceased as the sound of his voice intruded from behind her. “Go away, Deshawn Jamison.”

  Strong arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her back securely against him. “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

  Even though she wanted him to release her, she didn’t even resist. The strength he contained was evident, and a struggle would be futile in a real battle between them. She could feel the heat of his chest and thighs through her sable coat.

  “Why won’t you even give me a chance?” His soft-spoken words floated directly into her ear, breaking through her defenses with an odd mix of the soft allure of a feather being traced across naked skin and the unrelenting strength of pure steel.

  Anika tried her hardest to totally pay no attention to him.

  “Stop fighting this, Anika.”

  She fought to ignore him and lost. “Why did you tell my family that you’re my man?” she asked, as she fought a need to lean into his secure and warm em­brace.

  Deshawn felt her body tense and held her tighter. “I want to be your man,” he insisted, kissing her earlobe and the spot just below it.

  “You want to screw me,” she countered, closing her eyes as a hot wave of pure pleasure infused her body, even as winter swirled briskly around them.

  “I want to make love to you.”

  Anika felt herself softening. Physically she was so in tune with him; so easily aroused by him; so tanta­lized by his very presence. But he was a womanizer and a charmer who didn’t show any true signs of slowing down. There was no way in Hades that Deshawn Jamison was her Mr. Right.

  “I don’t know you, Deshawn, and what little I have heard about your dealings with women wouldn’t put me in the mind-set to claim you as my man or make love to you.”

  “What have I done so wrong?” he asked, being sure to talk slow and low to keep the calm mood between them. “I’ve dated a lot of women, that’s true, but I’m not married, Anika.”

  That’s true.

  “Is it my fault I haven’t met the right woman yet, that is, until now . . . until you?”

  All he needs is a good woman to slow him down.

  “No woman has ever affected me the way that you do.”

  Really?

  Deshawn turned her in his arms to face him and brought his gloved hands up to hold her face. “No sex. Just you and me getting to know one another. Let’s spend the rest of the week doing just that. I promise no more pressure to make sweet love to you . . . although I do want you, Anika Foxx.” Deshawn looked down into the beauty of her face and felt success course through his blood at the heated look in the cocoa depths of her eyes. He wanted to bury himself so deeply between her thighs.

  Anika looked up, searching desperately for some truth in his words. Sweetly, she felt his lips press down upon her forehead. “I don’t know, Deshawn,” she said softly, balling her hands into fists in the pocket of her fur to keep from touching him. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

  Then he kissed her, long, hard, and slow, until she trembled. After a hesitation at first, she kissed him as well, unable to deny the attraction she had for him. Anika felt sure that their heat would melt the snow and send them sinking below the white depths.

  “I’ll be ready when you are,” he murmured against her lips, before releasing her suddenly and walking back toward the house.

  Anika watched him leave. She felt frozen suddenly, but that had nothing to do with the snow-filled winds whipping around her lone figure.

  Chapter 6

  Be Happy

  Anika was running down a road absent of light and as dark as ebony, with no end in sight. Her nightgown flashed brilliantly white against the inky night. The stars were absent from the sky, the moon nowhere to be gazed upon. Nothing to offer illumination of her surroundings, or her soul, which was dark and depressed. She ran for miles and miles nonstop, her mind and body exhausted, but she knew she couldn’t—she mustn’t—stop. Suddenly there was a break of light in the distance. Her heart pounded with relief. Finally she could see the light! It took all of her strength, but she ran faster, until suddenly an unmovable wall appeared in her path. It was tall enough to block off the sliver of light and plunge her world back into an abyss. Unable to slow her steps in time, she opened her mouth wide to scream as she crashed into the barrier and felt mind-splitting pain.

  Anika woke from her dream screaming, her satin teddy drenched in sweat, her heart pounding furiously. It was the same dream she had had many times in the past couple of months. During the day she was able to shove her past into a locked closet and function normally. At night, when her defenses were down, she was tormented with the memories. “Come on, Anika, girl, let it go. You’re safe now,” she told herself, as she wiped her face free of the sweat.

  “Anika?” Deshawn burst into the room, through the bathroom adjoining their rooms, immediately moving in the darkness to sit on the bed and pull her body into his strong arms.

  His heart pounded in his chest. Her screams had jolted him from his own slumber. “Why did you yell?” he asked, the concern obvious in his voice.

  She allowed him to rock her b
ody as if she were a child. She enjoyed the warmth and security of his arms around her as she buried her face in the inviting crook of his neck.

  “Was it a nightmare?”

  At her weak nod, he held her closer. “You want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head no, but she didn’t move from his embrace. “Don’t try and cop a free feel,” she joked, her husky voice still heavy with slumber.

  Deshawn’s low laughter vibrated in his chest. “Go to sleep, girl,” he told her, his voice amused and relieved that she was okay enough to crack a joke. He continued to rock her, loving the feel of her soft body in his arms.

  Soon she breathed slow and deep in sleep. He tried not to register how good her satin-covered breasts felt pressed against his bare chest, or how the faint smell of apples was tantalizing him, or how irresistible she was fast becoming. Deciding it was best to put some room between them before he became aroused and frustrated, Deshawn lowered her back onto the bed and settled the blankets around her snugly. Even beneath the covers, the outline of her shapely frame was distracting.

  He stood and looked down at her face framed by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. At that moment he never thought she looked more beautiful. Something foreign tugged at his heart, but Deshawn quickly pushed it aside.

  Not wanting to leave her alone, and not knowing why he even cared, Deshawn strode over to the cherry armoire to check if Chloe had stored extra bedding, as she had in his room. Moving in the darkness, he made a pallet on the floor beside Anika’s bed, grateful for the extra-plush carpeting on the floor. He removed the pajama bottoms he had put on to come and check on Anika. He could only sleep in the nude.

  Soon slumber claimed him too but not before wondering for long moments what demons chased Anika in her sleep.

  ∞

  Anika stretched leisurely in the queen-sized bed, feeling rested and invigorated. Winter sunlight streamed brightly through the windows and she opened her eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust. It was when she sat up that she saw Deshawn asleep on the floor.

  She quickly remembered him rocking her back to sleep last night. It had felt good to have his strong arms hold her after one of those damn dreams. Quietly, so as not to awaken him, Anika turned and lay back down on her stomach. She eased her upper body off a little to look down at him.