Breaking All My Rules

by Trice Hickman

  Jerome was satisfied with his day and couldn’t think of the last time he’d felt this good. He’d awakened beside the woman he loved, starting the morning off with good conversation and even better lovemaking. Then he had spent quality time with his son and had opened up another facet of their relationship. He’d rounded things off by visiting with his parents and shocking them before they ate his mother’s delicious Sunday dinner meal. And now, as nighttime had descended, Jerome lay in bed and dialed Erica’s number.

  “Hi, Jerome,” she said, picking up on the first ring.

  The sound of his name coming out of her mouth made him smile. “Hey, you. Did you get the call from court?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m glad Ms. Slater is feeling better. Now we can get her testimony tomorrow and hopefully be done with the trial.”

  “We’ll see. What’re you doin’?” he asked.

  “Lying in my big empty bed, thinking about you. What are you doing?”

  “The same.”

  “We need to be doing it together.”

  Jerome looked at his alarm clock. It was 9:00 p.m., and Erica’s house was only twenty minutes away on the other side of town. “If that’s what you want, I can make that happen.”

  “You can come over?”

  “I’ll pack my overnight bag now, and I’ll be there soon.”

  Chapter 37

  Erica hung up the phone with butterflies humming in her stomach. She’d had a full day, and seeing Jerome was the perfect way to spend the rest of her evening. She hopped out of bed, pulled on her purple velour robe, and slipped into her matching slippers before she headed downstairs.

  She knew that Jerome’s “I’ll be there soon” could easily turn into an hour or longer, so she took her time preparing for him. She loved the spontaneity of their lovemaking, but tonight she wanted to make their time together extra special by planning a romantic evening. She opened her refrigerator and removed four different cheeses from the crisper and pulled out a bundle of grapes. Then she searched through her pantry, selecting a box of whole-grain gourmet crackers.

  “This will be a tasty treat,” Erica said out loud as she removed a mahogany serving tray from the stately sideboard in her dining room. After she draped it with a colorful napkin—which was her mother’s signature move—she arranged the goodies she’d prepared, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses, atop the tray.

  She walked upstairs with a light spring in her step, excited about spending an evening with her man. She peeled out of her robe and gown and was about to take a shower when her cell phone rang. She walked over to her nightstand and saw Jerome’s name illuminated and let out a sigh. They’d had a serious conversation about his lateness before he left that morning, and she’d made him promise that if he found himself running behind schedule, he would call to let her know. She’d just spoken with him fifteen minutes ago, and she hoped he wasn’t calling to say it would be another hour before he got there.

  “Hey. What’s going on?”

  “I’m turning down your street. Can you open your garage so I can park?”

  “You’re here?”

  “I told you I would be.”

  Erica was happy but stunned that Jerome was on time. She’d planned on his lateness, and now that she’d miscalculated, she wouldn’t have time to shower and make herself as alluring and sensuous for him as she’d wanted to.

  “Okay. I’m headed downstairs now.”

  A few minutes later Jerome was walking through Erica’s back door, headed for the kitchen.

  “I missed you while we were apart today,” she said, nestling herself in his strong arms as he hugged her.

  “I missed you, too.” He looked over her shoulder at the tray sitting on the counter. “That’s nice, baby.”

  “I thought we’d have a romantic evening together.”

  Jerome kissed her lips and whispered in her ear. “All right. Let’s take this upstairs.”

  Erica watched Jerome as he placed the tray on the bench in front of her bed and then sat his overnight bag on the other side of it. “I was on my way to take a shower before you came.” She smiled and walked toward her master bath. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jerome strolled over to her, hooking his arm around her waist and then pulling her close to his body. “Let me join you.”

  A wicked grin formed at the edge of her lips. “Follow me.”

  Erica adjusted the water, putting her hand under the flowing stream to make sure it was just the right temperature for a relaxing and sensual shower for two. Once it had reached a pleasing point, Erica flipped the lever to create a waterfall from above. She turned and looked at Jerome, who was already undressed, standing in nude perfection, hard and incredibly irresistible.

  “You want to feel it to make sure it’s not too hot?” she asked.

  “The temperature doesn’t matter. I just want to get wet with you.” He walked over to her and loosened the sash of her robe, letting it fall to the floor.

  When he traced his long fingers around the outer part of her right nipple, then tweaked its tip, Erica let out a soft moan. Slowly, they stepped into the shower; Jerome in front and Erica in the back.

  “I didn’t put on my shower cap,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about getting your hair wet. Let it go back to Africa,” he teased.

  “Are you going to style my hair so I’ll look presentable in court tomorrow?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want,” Jerome breathed, pulling her in close.

  Erica’s worry about her hair quickly faded to a distant place when she felt Jerome’s hard body and the warm water caress her skin. He kissed her long and deep, swirling his tongue around the depths of her mouth as he held her against his body. Carefully, they switched positions, placing Erica in the front lines of the water. She leaned back into Jerome, feeling his hardness press into the lower part of her back as he rubbed it from side to side against her skin.

  Erica reached for her pink netted sponge and poured a generous amount of shower gel onto it, then handed it to Jerome. She relaxed as he washed her from head to toe. Her body tingled with delight as he ran the sponge over the sensitive skin of her underarms, then onto the surface of her stomach, before moving down to the softness between her legs and then sweeping lather up and down her thick thighs. She enjoyed every moment of his attentive care.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

  Erica slowly ran her hands over Jerome’s body, scant of soapy lather because he’d said he didn’t want to smell like a girl. His manly scent was pleasing to her senses either way, so she took pleasure in the mix of water and lust that her fingers washed over him.

  Once they finished, they took turns drying each other off and then walked back to the bedroom.

  “Let’s eat by candlelight,” she said as she lit two scented candles.

  “Damn, you’re sexy.” Jerome looked at Erica and smiled. “How about a relaxing massage?”

  “You’re not gonna get an argument out of me.” Erica walked back to her vanity table, retrieved a plain white plastic jar, and then lay across the bed beside a waiting Jerome. She unscrewed the lid and handed him the jar. “This is Paradise.”

  Erica watched as Jerome sniffed the fragrant body butter and smiled. “This smells really good. I mean really, really good.”

  “You’re not just saying that?”

  He cut his eyes at her. “You know me by now. I’m straight up, and I really do like it. It’s soft, but strong enough to leave an impression, and it’s clean and fresh, but also sensual. I’m diggin’ it.”

  “I need you to do a commercial for me,” Erica said with a smile.

  “You got it. But for now, lie on your stomach and let me take care of you.”

  Jerome’s strong hands melted the tension in Erica’s back, which had been caused by months, weeks, and recent days of stressful work demands. She forgot about her parents’ pending divorce, about Ashley’s troublesome love triangle, and about the fe
eling that Claude was waiting in the wings to cause more trouble. She let her body sink into the softness of Jerome’s touch and the promise of their future as she enjoyed the beginning of another journey into pleasure.

  Erica and Jerome bolted up at the same time when they heard her alarm sound on the nightstand, waking them from their slumber.

  “Good morning,” she purred.

  “Morning.” Jerome kissed the back of her neck as they lay back down on the soft comfort of her mattress, with him spooning her from behind.

  “I put the snooze on for five more minutes. Let’s just lie here before we have to tackle the world,” Erica said in a sleepy voice.

  But their peaceful moment was interrupted when Erica’s phone began to ring. It was 6:00 a.m., and she knew the only kind of call that came at that hour of the morning was one of bad news. Even before she reached for her phone, she had a sinking feeling about who awaited her on the other end. She lay still for a moment, bracing herself.

  “You’re not gonna answer it?” Jerome said, a mixture of concern and suspicion breaking through in his voice.

  Erica could tell that he’d snapped into full alertness and that he must’ve sensed the same unwelcome trouble lurking with each ring that she did. Slowly, she reached for her phone and saw Claude’s name and number light up the screen.

  Chapter 38

  Jerome sat next to Erica in the jury box, feeling a mixture of emotions that ranged from pissed off to regretful. He hadn’t been able to shake the unsettling mood he’d been in ever since Erica’s ex-fiancé had called her at the crack of dawn. It seemed that every time he and Erica stepped back on a good footing, something would crop up and put them at odds with each other again. For a relationship that he felt was meant to be, it seemed the universe was leaving him small clues that he should take a second look, and despite what he’d told his parents just yesterday, he was beginning to doubt his own instincts for the first time.

  He thought about the events of the past few days. Claude had sent Erica flowers, then had shown up at her brother’s event, and now he was giving her early morning phone calls. Jerome knew the intention behind those moves, because he’d done a few of them himself, and he also knew that if a man was putting in the kind of time and effort that Claude was demonstrating, he had to be after something.

  Jerome wanted to believe what Erica had told him—that she’d cut all ties with the man—but the evidence of Claude’s presence in her life made that claim a bit questionable. Even though she’d appeared irritated at the sight of her ex Saturday night, Jerome wondered if there was more to the story than she’d let on. Something about the whole situation didn’t feel right to him.

  When Erica had hesitated to answer the early morning call, his antennae went up right away, as he knew that it had to be a man on the other end, and in particular, her ex.

  “It’s Claude,” she’d said, turning to him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t place.

  With involuntary reaction, Jerome took the phone out of her hand, sat up in bed, and pressed the talk button. “Hello,” he boomed in a stern, no-nonsense tone.

  “I’m trying to reach Erica,” Claude said with smug confidence.

  Jerome knew that Claude had recognized his voice, yet he had the nerve to still ask for Erica. “Erica isn’t available. Why’re you calling her this time of the morning?”

  “Why are you answering her phone?”

  “ ’Cause I’m her man, muthafucka!”

  When Jerome heard the dial tone sing in his ear, he wanted to jump through the phone and whup Claude’s ass. “Why’s that muthafucka callin’ you all times of the morning?” he asked, his breathing starting to quicken. “What the hell’s goin’ on between the two of you?”

  “Nothing! I don’t know why he’s calling me or what he’s up to.” Erica sat up beside him and put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. “You have to believe me. I have no reason to lie.”

  “Maybe you want to have your cake and eat it, too. Hell, you’re gettin’ the best of both worlds. An Ivy League business dude to show off in public and a roughneck to sex you under your expensive sheets.”

  Erica twisted her mouth and pulled the comforter up to her chest. “I know you’re not going to start with that again.”

  “What am I supposed to think? You got this punk callin’ you, sending you flowers and shit, and showing up at family functions.”

  “Nelson’s campaign kickoff was a public event that anyone could’ve attended who wanted to, and I guess he wanted to.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You know what? I’m sick of justifying and defending myself to you just because you feel insecure about who you are. If I didn’t want to be with you, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now.”

  “I can fix that.” He rose to his feet and started gathering his things.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Gettin’ out of your bed.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

  “Stop acting like one.”

  Jerome stopped in his tracks and glared at Erica, but when he saw her glaring back at him with the same intensity, he lost it. “Just like I said the other night, this is some bullshit! You might have a fancy degree, come from a rich family, and have a lot of money, but you bring just as much fucked-up drama as any of the hood rats I used to deal with.”

  Erica stood to her feet, butt naked and pissed. “Get the hell out of my house right now!” she yelled. She pulled on her robe, then reached for the boxers and T-shirt he’d tossed to the floor the night before. She walked over to him, calmly placed his clothes in his hand, and then walked toward her bathroom. “I have only two things to say to you. Don’t ever answer my phone again, and please don’t be here when I come out.” She closed the bathroom door behind her and never looked back.

  Jerome was so mad, he could have hurt someone. But instead of storming into the bathroom to exchange more angry words, he quickly dressed and left.

  Back in the present, Erica shifted in her seat beside him, drawing his mind to the here and now. What is this woman doing to me? he asked himself. He was a man who, until recently, never lost his temper and always remained calm. Even after he’d been shot twelve years ago, he’d still managed to stay in control of his emotions. But now one week with Erica had made him curse and nearly yell over things that wouldn’t have normally phased him. Before, if he suspected that a woman whom he was seeing was double dipping with another man, he’d just leave her alone and go on to the next female waiting in the wings. It was no sweat off his brow.

  He was used to being the person with the upper hand in his relationships. But now the power had shifted, and the hold that Erica had on him made him feel vulnerable and weak. Those emotions had had no place in his life until recently. But the moment he met Erica, things changed, and if indeed she was “the one,” he had to figure out how to make things right again.

  Chapter 39

  Erica rubbed her hand across the top of her head as she walked in line back to the jury room. She’d had to use water and gel to slick her hair down into a neat bun this morning, after getting it soaking wet in the shower last night. All because of him! she shouted in her head. She could feel Jerome’s eyes blazing through her as they walked the short distance down the hall. Half of her wanted to turn around and hug him, but there was another part of her that wanted to yell, kick, and scream in his face. That was how much he’d frustrated her.

  She had read romance novels, articles, and had even seen movies that depicted the challenges of star-crossed lovers who came from different worlds. She’d known what she was getting herself into when she first met Jerome, and she was ready because her heart and her gut had told her that he was worth the work.

  She remembered the beautiful love they’d made last night. The way he’d rubbed her back gently before giving her pleasure that made her moan like a woman gone wild. She touched her lips, remembering the way
he’d fed her grapes as they lay in bed and talked about their future. She was impressed with his parenting skills when he told her about the way he’d educated his son on the facts of life and the responsibilities that came along with growing into young adulthood. It had made her think about what it would be like to have a child with him, and how they would parent together. But as she entered the jury room and took her seat, all she could think about at the moment was the growing confusion in her head.

  Erica looked at Jerome out of the corner of her eye as he eased down into the chair beside her. He was wearing the same dark denims and cable-knit sweater that he’d had on yesterday, and she suspected that he hadn’t showered, either, because he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to go across town and still arrive in court on time. She marveled at the fact that despite all this, he looked as fresh and crisp as brand-new money. She didn’t want to feel anything for him, but she couldn’t deny the irresistible urge creeping up inside her to place a kiss on his soft lips. What is this man doing to me? she asked herself.

  But Erica didn’t have time to answer questions about her complicated relationship, which seemed as though it was coming to an end. So she concentrated on what was at hand—the fact that she and her fellow jurors were about to deliberate Ms. Slater’s fate.

  Because Jerome always seemed to be in control and he’d calmed everyone down last Friday, his fellow jurors had voted to make him the foreman. Erica beamed inside, feeling proud and confident in his ability to lead them, even if she was unsure about his stability within their own fleeting relationship.

  “I think she’s guilty,” one juror said. “She couldn’t answer any of the questions the prosecution threw at her, and I still think she faked that attack last Friday.”

  Maude spoke up. “The doctor said she was suffering from fatigue and stress. She was probably feeling the effects of the trial.”

  “She should’ve thought about that before she swindled her company out of all that money,” another juror said.