Heavenly Match

by Niobia Bryant

  “Aw. My own knight in shining armor,” she whispered softly, letting her mocha eyes caress him. She was touched that he had remained at her bedside even as she slept. She was even more touched that he didn’t climb into the bed with her. She had to admit it was a very sweet gesture.

  Deshawn almost looked like a young boy with those long lashes splayed against his cheek, but the body that was sprawled on the makeshift pallet was all M-A-N. It was hard to deny that fact with the sinewy contours of his hairy, muscled chest and strong arms. And his maleness, which even at rest was lengthy and impressive, pressed intimately against the thin sheet that covered his hips and legs.

  Curious, Anika decided to indulge herself. She quickly looked up at his face to assure herself that he was still asleep, before she lowered her hand down to ease the sheet back and expose him to her eager eyes. She gasped as she let the sheet lightly fall around his ankles.

  He was beautiful!

  The hairs surrounding his shaft were soft, curly, and as jet-black as his piercing eyes. His body was a bronzed shade of caramel, but his member was dark and smooth like chocolate with length and thickness as it lay against his rock hard stomach. The swollen tip rested near his navel and a large vein ran along the side, ready to pulsate with life.

  “My, my, my,” Anika whispered softly, resisting the urge to touch him intimately. She pressed her thick thighs together to abate the throb of her feminine core.

  Anika bit back a mischievous smile. This man was dangerous.

  Reaching for the sheet to cover him, she glanced up at his face. She nearly died when she saw his eyes open, watching her intently with an unmistakable hot look.

  “I . . . I . . . was . . . just—” she stumbled to explain, completely mortified that she had been caught peep­ing.

  “Like what you saw?” he asked thickly.

  She licked her full lips nervously.

  “Check me out now,” he invited, his voice throaty and cocky.

  Obeying him, she looked down to him and gasped deeply. “Oh.”

  He was fully aroused now. Just the sight of her breasts encased in the satin as she hung off the bed drove him with want. His lengthy tool stood erect and awkward. “Touch me,” he ordered thickly, never once looking away from her face.

  Anika’s nipples swelled, throbbed, and hardened. “Deshawn, I—”

  “Anika . . . Anika . . . you up yet?” Chloe’s voice filtered through the heavy wooden door, followed by a light double rap.

  “Forget Chloe. Touch me, Anika. Go ahead. It’s locked,” he told her huskily.

  “Anika?”

  “Coming, Chloe,” she yelled, breaking the trance Deshawn’s voice and his nude body had her under.

  “Get out of here,” she whispered to him.

  Deshawn smiled as he moved to a standing position, his member just inches from her face.

  Anika jumped back and then scrambled from the bed. His hardness hit her arm as she did. The skin felt soft, but there was nothing but strength beneath it. “Go to your room.”

  “Get rid of Chloe,” he whispered, before slowly sauntering toward the adjoining door. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Anika pressed her fingertips to her nipples trying to soften the erect buds. With her other hand she swooped up Deshawn’s makeshift pallet and flung it into the open armoire. After one last look around the room quickly, she opened the door. “Good morning, Chloe. What time is it?” she asked, feigning a sleepy tone as she leaned against the bedroom door.

  “Seven,” Chloe told her, dressed in what had to be one of Devon’s pajama tops. “I wanted to make sure you were up in time to eat breakfast before you left for work.”

  “I’m so glad you’ll have a real child to mother soon,” Anika joked. “You cooked already?”

  “Yeah, but we’re the only ones up. Give us some time for some girl talk,” Chloe said over her shoulder, as she turned and walked toward the kitchen.

  “I’m right behind you,” Anika called back, reaching behind the door for her housecoat.

  ∞

  Deshawn laughed from the other side of the bathroom door that adjoined their rooms. Having overheard their conversation, he just shook his head. She was gone. You can run but you can’t hide, he thought. He returned to his own bedroom to get some more rest. Sleeping on the floor had given him back trouble, but it was worth it to awaken to Anika checking out his “attributes.” It had been a very re­vealing morning indeed.

  ∞

  “Marisol. Send Tara in, please.”

  Anika closed her appointment book, and used the minisized remote to turn down the CD player. Ms. Mary was tearing up “Not Gon’ Cry” like it was no­body’s business, but she wanted to give the younger woman her undivided attention.

  Anika studied Tara as soon as she walked into her office.

  She was nineteen, slender, and graceful in her movements. Her features resembled those of the supermodel Imani. Tara had slanted hazel eyes with green flecks, high, prominent cheekbones, and a delicate chin. Her long shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a ponytail that left her bruised and swelling eyes exposed showing they were were haunted in her angelic bone structure. She was too beautiful inside and out to be beaten on like an unwanted pet.

  “Morning. How are you?”

  Tara smiled, revealing white even teeth that glowed, until she winced with pain at the sudden facial move­ment. “I’m a’ight, I guess. You Ms. Foxx?” she asked, her East Coast accent far heavier than Anika’s.

  Anika smiled at her. “I’m fine, but I’ll be doing even better if you’re ready to talk to me this morn­ing,” she urged, waving her hand at one of the modern maroon leather seats before her desk. “Where’s Kimani, in the playroom?”

  “Yeah, she loves it in there, you know.” Tara took a seat, her trendy hip-hop clothing hiding her slender figure.

  And then silence. Anika was waiting for her to signal that she was ready. She was willing to give her all the time she desired.

  “I love him Ms. Foxx,” were her soft-spoken and pain-filled first words. Tears immediately formed in her eyes as she dropped her head.

  Anika fought for control. How often had those three little words caused many people to settle for all types of abuse? “I don’t doubt that you love him,” Anika began softly. “In fact, I know you love him, but the question for you, sweetheart, is, does he love you?”

  Tara looked up and then dropped her eyes from Anika’s. “I’m sorry, Ms. Foxx.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. You’re hurting yourself and your beautiful daughter more than you’re hurting me, honey.” Anika leaned forward, fighting back her own tears. “I wish I could tell you that he’ll miraculously stop beating you one day and that the three of you will live happily ever after as a family, but I won’t... I can’t. To him nothing is broken, so he’s thinking . . . if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Please believe me, Tara, the abuse will continue just like the last time.”

  “But don’t he deserve to see his daughter?”

  Anika recognized the ploy that many abusive men with children used. “Don’t you deserve not to be beaten and broken down?”

  She stood and came around the desk to kneel at Tara’s side. Her life was one Anika knew all too well. She pulled her into her arms and held her close, trying to absorb some of her pain.

  ∞

  “Anika, you have a call on line one, a Mr. Brant.” She didn’t recognize the name, but still said to her assistant, “Put him through.”

  Anika continued writing the memo she was composing with her right hand and used the other to hit the button to answer the phone via the speaker. “Anika Foxx.”

  Her eyes sharpened and her pen stalled when the line remained quiet. “Yes, Anika Foxx here,” she said again.

  For the past few weeks she had been getting prank calls at work. She had to force herself to believe that it was all just a coincidence. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. It had been over a decade since she saw him last. There was no way he
knew where she lived and worked.

  “Calm down, Anika,” she whispered to herself.

  Turning the tables, she picked up the phone. She began to breathe hot and heavy into the mouthpiece like a panting dog. “Get a life, pervert,” she said afterward, hanging the phone up with a bang. But her eyes remained on the phone for long, thoughtful moments.

  Anika was so tired by the time she made it back to Chloe’s that she didn’t even argue with Harrison, quickly signing in and flashing her ID before she stepped onto the elevator. This particular day at the clinic had been emotionally, physically, and mentally draining. She felt like crawling into a dark hole and crying. She wanted so badly to help all of the battered women who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight for themselves. Some days were victorious, some okay, most were sad, and a few were downright depressing like today.

  The shelter was at full capacity and they actually had to refer a new admission to another qualified shelter. The woman was twenty-five with seven children ranging in age from thirteen to one. It was hard enough fighting for yourself but it was even harder when you had seven more mouths to feed.

  “Anyone home?” she called out, after she used her spare key to open the apartment door.

  “Just me.”

  Anika looked directly at Deshawn as he walked slowly into the foyer. Her heart quickened at the very sight of him, and the memories of his nude chiseled physique came to her in a rush. “Hey, Deshawn.”

  He immediately noticed the fatigue around her eyes and in the droop in her shoulders. “Hard day?”

  She just nodded. “Where’s Chloe and Devon?”

  “They went shopping a couple of hours ago. They should be on the way back, I guess.”

  Anika walked past him on her way to her bedroom. “I’m going to take a nap,” she told him over her shoulder.

  Deshawn reached out quickly and clasped her wrist. “Oh no, we need to talk, Anika.”

  She turned halfway and looked at him. “Not now, Deshawn. I’m just too tired . . . okay?” she said softly, as she fought back the tears that threatened to flow.

  He released her and said nothing as the bedroom door closed behind her voluptuous figure. Deshawn was tempted to do as she asked, but he had a feeling that the surprise he had planned for her was just what she needed right now. Moving on an impulse, he strode to the closed door and opened it slowly.

  Anika had removed her boots and climbed atop the bed fully clothed. She lay on her side and her head instantly rose off the pillow to look over her shoulder at him.

  Deshawn said nothing as he entered the bedroom and took a seat beside her. The bed groaned a little under their combined weight. “I commend you, Anika,” was all that he said.

  Anika pulled herself to a sitting position, crossing her legs at the ankles. It was useless to ignore him. “Really, what for?”

  “How deeply you feel the pain and frustration of the women you work with,” Deshawn told her, pulling her feet into his warm lap for a gentle massage.

  Against her will, Anika moaned at the pure pleasure of his deep foot rub. “I love what I do, you know. It’s just that today was a harder day than most. One of the counselors being out for the week with the flu didn’t help since we all had to split up her caseload. Then we had two new admissions today, but only one available apartment. We really need to expand the temporary housing units. Oh, did I mention that there’s a problem with the wiring?”

  Deshawn moved his hands up to her healthy calves, unable to stop himself if he wanted to. “It’s sad that you need to expand the facility,” he said truthfully, never having believed in laying a hand on a woman unless it was to caress her. He was a lover, not a fighter.

  “It means that the need is growing instead of lessening,” Anika said wearily, letting her head fall back against the headboard as her eyes fluttered. “No one knows how tired of this issue I am. You just don’t beat on people. It’s that simple.”

  “Do you know what you need to take your mind off your worries?”

  One of Anika’s deep-set eyes popped open. “Let me guess. Some of your damn good, make your eyes roll up in the back of your head loving, right?”

  Deshawn smirked wolfishly, his dimple deepening as he rested his eyes on her upturned face. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” his mouth said, but those damn eyes said otherwise. “I have it on good authority that you like Mary J. Blige.”

  Anika’s eyes lit up. “Your authority is excellent. What about it?”

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, shifting her feet to the bed as he rose. Deshawn left the room, but returned moments later with a flat black box held closed with a bright red ribbon. “For you, beautiful.”

  Anika accepted the box with trepidation. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes one last time before untying the ribbon. Inside lay two concert tickets for an encore performance of Ms. Mary at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, or the PAC as it was called, in Newark. “Are these for real?” she asked, sitting up straighter on the bed with the tickets in her hand.

  Deshawn smiled, becoming even more handsome and vibrant. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered with south­ern charm.

  Anika screamed out, before jumping off the bed and flinging her body recklessly at Deshawn. “Thank you . . . thank you . . . thank you.”

  “Whoa,” Deshawn moaned, catching her easily and wrapping his strong arms around her frame securely. “I made you happy, huh?”

  Anika’s face was an inch away from Deshawn’s as she looked down into his eyes boldly. “Very happy, Mr. Jamison. I guess you are good for something,” she joked, as the heat of his body rose to surround her and tease her. She moved from his hold.

  Deshawn chuckled, deep, full, and rich, his eyes crinkling at the corners with laugh lines. “Anyway, it’s a date?”

  Anika turned her back to him, very tongue-in-cheek. “I thought these were for Chloe and me,” she said coyly, tapping the tickets against her bosom.

  “Is it a date, Anika?” he asked again firmly, his eyes on her shapely figure like a hawk.

  She wanted to go to the concert, and she wanted to go with Deshawn. He was charming and handsome, fun to be with . . . when he wasn’t busy begging for a little taste of her loving. It had been really sweet of him to get the tickets. And it was Mary. It was only one date.

  God knows I need the diversion. What the hell?

  Anika turned to face him, her plush lips formed into a soft, alluring smile. “It’s a date,” she said huskily, shaking her head at his widening smile of success.

  ∞

  “Well, well, well.”

  Anika removed the warm hand towel she had over her eyes as she lay in the circular tub filled with delicate and foamy peach-scented bubbles. Chloe stood by the tub, her hands on her hips. Anika replaced the towel. “I see you’ve heard.”

  “Yes, I heard,” Chloe chastised, reaching over to snatch the towel away from Anika’s eyes. “Deshawn told us when we got in.”

  “Don’t trip, Chloe. It’s just two adults going to a concert,” Anika said, her eyes closed to purposely hide anything from her best friend’s all-too-observant eyes.

  “If you say so,” Chloe said.

  “Well, I do say so.”

  “Do I smell love in the air?” Chloe teased.

  “No, that’s Bath & Body Works, girlfriend.”

  “Deshawn and Anika sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N- G,” Chloe sang childishly, moving her hips as she did.

  Anika raised one finely shaped brow as she opened her eyes. “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Okay, girl, okay. No more teasing.” Chloe moved the bench from in front of the brass vanity table next to the tub. “What’s going on under my own nose that I didn’t see?”

  “Not a damn thing,” Anika told her, using the sudsy loofah to rub her elbows.

  At Chloe’s look of disbelief, Anika continued. “Deshawn has tickets to see Ms. Mary and I want to go. That’s all. No relationship, no ties, and definitely no sex.”
<
br />   Chloe nodded, handing Anika her bottle of scented bath gel from the tub’s edge. “It’s really none of my business.”

  “Chloe, there is no business to be aware of. All I’m worrying about is seeing Mary,” Anika said.

  Chloe stood, moving the padded bench back to its original spot. She turned to leave, but stopped by the door. “Oh, and, Anika?”

  “Yes, Chloe?”

  “He’s going to love you in that outfit you have laid out on the bed.”

  “I hope so, Chloe,” she admitted softly, laughing with pleasure at the night to come. Feeling carefree, she picked up a handful of bubbles and blew them up into the air.

  Chapter 7

  Seven Days

  Deshawn felt his eyes drawn to Anika’s throughout the entire sold-out performance by the Queen of Hip-Hop Soul. She sang along with each song, knowing every single word by heart. Her expressions changed to suit the mood of the music. Several times she would yell out, “Sang, Mary” as if the songtress could actually hear her with the thousands of boisterous fans in attendance.

  Ms. Blige’s performance was exhilarating. Her emotions were clearly worn on her sleeve, shown in her face, and heard in her unique throaty tones. From her earlier songs like “Real Love” to her newest top-ten hits, Mary was in full command of the stage, moving easily from slow and sultry solos to up­beat, rhythmic music.

  Anika enjoyed every minute of it and hated when the concert drew to a climactic end. She joined each of the attendees, including Deshawn, in giving the queen her well-deserved standing ovation.

  “Whew, that was good.” Anika sighed, turning to spontaneously hug Deshawn close, her mocha eyes almost hazel under the lights. “Thank you again, Deshawn. You just don’t know how much I love Mary’s music.”

  “So you enjoyed yourself?” He grinned, his ebony eyes slanted beneath slashing black brows.

  Anika nodded as she released her brief hold on him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him behind her to blend with the mass of people filing out of the auditorium.