One hour and forty-seven minutes later, I received a text message.
Carlos Richmond: Are you sure you want to do this?
Akila Bishara: Yes.
Carlos Richmond: I told them to, but I don’t think they’re going to take it easy on you.
Akila Bishara: I don’t plan to take it easy on them either.
Carlos Richmond: I have no doubt. Empire Building. Studio B. Eight o’clock.
Akila Bishara: See you Friday!
Because I had completed my assignment for Luca Romano’s class early and I was up to date on all of my articles for Re-Mix, I spent the next thirty-six hours brainstorming and planning my attack on Date Night’s bullshit podcast and mentality. I listened to as many recent podcasts as I could stomach. I looked up statistics and sources to emphasize my point. I was ready for an intellectual debate that would hopefully change the mindsets of their listeners. It didn’t matter if The Lost Boys were a lost cause, I wanted to reach the masses and let them know that their behavior had real life consequences.
But just in case The Lost Boys decided to play dirty, I researched City Boy B, or Bryant as his mother named him, and Country Boy Q, or Quentin as is written on his birth certificate. I had a harder time locating their personal social media accounts, but once I found Carlos Richmond’s personal social media page, it didn’t take many clicks to find out a good deal of information about all three of their lives. I didn’t plan to use the information unless they got personal in their attack of me. But it was interesting to see how close they were to their mothers, sisters, female cousins, and friends.
By Friday evening, I was a mixture of nerves and excitement.
“I wish I could be there to see the look on their faces when you call them on their shit.” Meghan’s laugh was so loud and boisterous that I had to pull my cell phone from my ear.
Smiling, I found a parking spot close to the Empire Building. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”
“Well you left out of here dressed to kill and ridiculously early, so I know you’re ready for it.”
I left twenty minutes before seven o’clock dressed in a navy blue mini dress with a high neckline, over-the-knee grey boots, and a grey sweater with blue dots. My hair was big and wild, in sharp contrast to the refined sexiness of my wardrobe. I was early, and I looked good.
“I just don’t know what to expect, so I’m preparing for anything and everything.” I gasped. “Oh, I see Carlos. I’m going to try to catch up with him. I’ll text you afterward. Enjoy your date with Derrick!”
“See if Carlos can help you fill this extra hour you have.”
I chuckled as I said goodbye to my silly best friend.
Before I could put my phone away, I noticed a text message from Alex. I looked up and Carlos was gone. Looking back down, I read the message.
Alexandria Bishara: You really are the best sister. Thank you for going toe-to-toe with those assholes and standing up for me and the other women in the newsletter. As of this morning, twenty-five of us have been put on display. It’s demoralizing, you know? Makes me question if I should wear the tops that I like that happen to be low cut. Thank you, Kiki.
Akila Bishara: I love you and I will always have your back.
Tossing my phone in my bag, I eased out of my car and made a beeline for the Empire Building. I wanted to find Carlos and talk to him for a minute, so I could get the butterflies and heart palpitations out of the way. It made sense why thinking about him turned me on and lit my body on fire. But I didn’t understand why just the thought of him caused my heart to race. I could admit that I liked him a little, but that was in constant war with the fact that he was part of The Lost Boys. And I didn’t have time to be distracted by Carlos’s handsome face, witty commentary, or the flurry of feelings he inspired within me.
I opened the main door and froze.
Dick print.
Carlos was standing there as if he was waiting for me—in grey sweatpants. I could feel his gaze sweeping over my body. Heat rose from beneath the surface of my skin. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as every inch of me reacted without my consent.
“Hey,” he greeted me, pushing off the wall and walking toward me.
“Hey,” I responded, unable to move.
He licked his lips. “You look nice.”
“You look…” My eyes zeroed in on the noticeable bulge in his pants, and I swallowed hard. Jerking my head and my gaze back to his face, I continued, “Comfortable.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “I had to break up a fight in the student parking lot and my pants got fucked up.” He made a face. “But the kids are mostly unharmed and safely at home, suspended for ten days.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks though.” He paused, stopping about a foot away from me. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah…”
“Did you want to go to the studio this early?”
“Where else would I go?” I asked slowly.
“There’s a little break area.”
I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to keep me from the studio? You were standing here waiting for me and now you’re trying to take me to a break area. What’s really going on?”
“I saw you getting out of your car and I waited for you.”
I tried my hardest not to smile. “So, you were watching me?”
“Yes.”
My heart thundered in my chest. I asked him the question jokingly and between his answer and the way he was looking at me, it felt like so much more.
“Oh,” I breathed in reply.
He glanced behind me. “Let’s go to the break area for a minute.”
His closeness was intoxicating. All I could do was nod.
With his hand on the small of my back, I allowed him to escort me to the communal break area. I heard people entering the building, but I didn’t even bother to turn around. We walked into a cute, clean space. There were tables, vending machines, and not much else. But the view was phenomenal.
“Oh wow,” I remarked as I moved toward the floor to ceiling glass pane that showcased the beauty of Empire Park.
“We can see out, but they can’t see in.”
“It’s a gorgeous view.”
“It sure is.”
My heart rate spiked. From a few feet behind me, I felt him staring at me. I turned to face him and watched his eyes dart away and then back to my face.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, hoping he didn’t hear the way my voice shook.
He strode over to me. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”
I exhaled. “About?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Are you trying to talk me out of this?”
“No, I—”
“Because I can handle myself.”
“I know.”
“I don’t need your concern or protection.”
“I know.”
“I’m not the one that should be worried.”
Licking his lips, he took another step forward. “I know.”
Instinctively, I took a step back. The cool glass of the window was against my back. My chest rose and fell in anticipation as he stood less than a foot away from me. Wordlessly, taking me in. The longer we stood there like that, I felt nothing but the intensity of his gaze. His eyes pierced me as if he could see into my soul. The energy between us was undeniable, but I wanted nothing more than to deny it.
“What are you doing?” I whispered as his face seemed to hover above mine.
“You’ve been on my mind all week,” he murmured.
Hearing those words were too much. I had to rip my eyes away from him in order to keep myself from getting too caught up in the feelings he brought out of me. It was a dangerous mix of desire, lust, and familiarity.
“Carlos.”
“Akila.”
The butt
erflies in my belly were forceful as his deep voice wrapped around my name. As he closed the gap between us, I could feel how hard he was pressed against me.
“What are you doing to me?” I wondered aloud.
“Anything you want me to.”
I gasped. “Carlos…”
“We have forty-five minutes until we should be in the studio. I wanted to talk to you before going on air. And I wanted to kiss you.” Moving the hair off my shoulder, he leaned down so that his lips were against the shell of my ear. “I still want to kiss you.”
Ignoring the desire that churned between my legs, I opened my mouth to tell him that our last time was our last time. I looked into his eyes, ready to emphasize my point. But when he wet his lips and I caught a glimpse of his tongue, that yearning deep within me caused me to have a temporary lapse in speaking ability.
Putting my hands on his chest, I planned to push him and create distance between us. I wanted to give myself the space to breath freely. He was too close, too intoxicating, and I couldn’t think straight. But feeling the way his heart raced didn’t help. Letting my hands move down his defined chest to his hard abs to the waistband of his sweatpants, I started throbbing.
I looked down and could see the prominently displayed bulge in his pants, no longer at rest. My eyes flew up to his and all I saw was want and need etched into his handsome features.
Pulling him a little closer, I slipped my hand inside his sweatpants and wrapped my hand around his hard cock.
Sucking in a sharp breath, his eyes closed. “Akila…”
I responded by lightly running my hand from the base to the tip of his dick.
He groaned, bringing his forehead to mine. “Don’t start something you don’t want to finish.”
“I’ve already started,” I murmured wantonly before pushing my lips to meet his. “Take me somewhere. Now.”
The kiss was explosive.
“Come here,” he demanded, pulling me into one of the single-stall restrooms within the break area.
I walked in first, and he was right behind me. As soon as the door locked, we were all over each other. The desire I felt for him was too much and I couldn’t stop myself.
“We don’t have much time,” I breathed as he cupped my face with both hands.
My eyes were fixated on his lips as he slid his hands down my neck and over my shoulders, taking my sweater off with them. He reached over and hung the sweater on the hook behind the door.
“Akila,” he uttered before covering his mouth with mine. Feeling the sweet heat of his lips, my body curved into his. As he deepened the kiss, his tongue grazed mine, and I felt my resolve break.
“Do you know how sexy it is when you say my name like that?” I peered up at him through my lashes as the palm of my hand applied pressure against his dick. I rubbed him over his sweatpants.
He closed his eyes and let his head drop back momentarily as I pushed his sweats down.
“Mmm.” My fingertips had a full, unobstructed access, and I took advantage of it.
“I spent every night this week thinking about your touch.” He grabbed my face and kissed me softly. “I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, be inside you.” He pulled away from my lips and started trailing kisses across my jawline, down my neck, and over my shoulder.
“I thought about you, too,” I answered breathily.
His fingers gripped my hips as he kissed his way to my breasts. He nuzzled my hardened nipples with his face before biting them through my dress.
I moaned.
He continued kissing down my belly until he was squatting in front of me, his hands on the back of my knees. “Do we have time for me to taste you?” he asked as he stared at the apex of my thighs. He licked his lips and leisurely moved his hands up the back of my thighs.
I could see the desire in his eyes as his chest heaved, looking up at me.
I swallowed hard. “I don’t think there’s time.”
With his fingers hooked into my G-string, he pulled the lace strip of material down over my boots.
“Lift,” he commanded, helping me step out of my panties. “Lift.”
As I lifted my right leg, he shifted his body, maneuvering his shoulder under my knee. With the new position, he was able to open me up and run his tongue over my slit.
My legs buckled. “Oh, my God,” I called out, leaning against the wall for support. My moans only encouraged him as his tongue strategically toyed with me. I placed my hands on the back of his head and rocked into his mouth. He hit a spot that caused my legs to shake. I almost tipped over in my boots.
“I got you,” he whispered. He kissed my thighs before standing. “Spread your legs.”
My heart skipped a beat.
The anticipation to have him fill me up was like nothing I’d ever experienced. My heart pounded in my throat as he lifted my skirt. Using his middle finger, he massaged his way into me. Sliding in and out of me, he curled his finger into my g-spot. I moaned loudly. Smothering my moans with his mouth, he kissed me like he missed me.
“The things I would do to you if we had time,” he growled, pulling his finger out of me and rubbing my clit. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Carlos,” I panted as he kissed me harder, caressing his tongue against mine.
Leaning down so that my lips brushed against the shell of my ear, he whispered my name as he applied pressure as he rubbed me. My fingernails dug into his shoulders and my breathing changed when I felt myself approaching the edge.
“Listen to how wet you are,” he growled as I gyrated against his hand. “Have you been thinking about me?”
“Yes.”
He groaned as he kissed me. His fingers moved in and out of me until I felt the tension tighten my entire lower body.
“Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what you want from me.”
“I want you inside me,” I murmured.
“Say it again.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Moving his lips over mine, we kissed with reckless abandon. I wanted him so bad that I was starting to lose control. I wasn’t thinking clearly.
Spinning me around, he pushed me against the wall and pinned me with his body. Caught off guard, my breathing hitched at the force of the movement, and I trembled in response.
Gripping my hair at the root, he gently tugged. “Is this what you want?”
“Oh god yes. I want you—all of you.”
He placed his hand in the center of my back, bending me over. He lifted the skirt of my dress, grabbing my exposed hips tightly and pressed his dick against me.
“You ready for me?”
“Yes, yes, god yes…” I moaned as he pushed himself into me.
“Shit,” he swore, digging his fingers into my skin as he restrained himself.
I was so wet that the pressure of him stretching me was a delicious pain. Even though I was wet enough to accommodate him, he was so big that he had to work his way inside slowly. After every inch he pushed into me, he paused to let me adjust. The deeper he got, the closer I felt to him. He wasn’t just stroking my body, he was stroking my soul.
I shuddered as I gave into the feelings we shared. Grinding my hips against him, I worked myself up and down his shaft. The rapid bursts of air from his ragged breathing coupled with the sound of my wetness, intensifying the moment for me.
“You feel so fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and needy. “Damnit, Akila. Shit.”
With my hands against the wall, I let my head dangle languidly. “Yes, Carlos. Please fuck me.”
“Oh shit,” he groaned softly, flexing his fingers against my hips and picking up the pace.
“Carlos, please don’t stop,” I begged in the throaty purr that seemed to do something to him.
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.” His strokes were longer, deeper, faster.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
Keeping one hand firmly planted on my hip and the other twiste
d in the soft curls of my hair, he switched to long strokes. Pulling almost all the way out and then slamming back in, his balls slapped against my ass loudly.
He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. “Akila,” he swore.
“Please. Don’t. Stop,” I panted.
Untangling his fingers from my hair, he grabbed my other hip and let loose, ramming into me.
As he continued to thrust his hips, I threw my ass back to meet him. Each swear, each groan, each grunt added to my building orgasm, and I let out a series of moans. We were getting louder, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t long before I was crying out in ecstasy. Quivering, I shut my eyes tightly and rode the wave.
Pulling my hair, making my head lift to the ceiling, his dick touched my soul. My muscles clenched, and I started clamping down around him. My back arched, and my body shook, and he stiffened. The ache deep inside me exploded as I felt his throbbing dick and heard the raspy need in his voice.
As our bodies came down from the high we were riding, all I could hear was our heavy, satiated breathing.
“Stay right there,” Carlos instructed. Grabbing paper towels, he cleaned me up and then himself. “Turn around.”
I turned, still propped up by the wall, and he assisted me in stepping into my panties. As he rose, he pulled them up and then straightened the skirt of my dress.
“That was…” I bit my lip. Pulling his face toward mine by his beard, I pressed my lips against his. “That felt so good.”
“I don’t know what got into me.” He shook his head before whispering, “It’s like I can’t resist you.”
“It’s like there’s something drawing us together, even though we shouldn’t.”
A look crossed his face and he swallowed hard. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Smoothing down my dress, I walked to my sweater then turned to face him. I watched him watching me as I put it on. “What’s going on?”
He licked his lips. I’d never seen him look nervous before. “I just…”
As I waited for him to finish his sentence, I felt exposed. He was able to do things to my body that blew my mind, but it was the emotional connection I felt when he was in me that made me feel vulnerable. “What’s going on?” I repeated, feeling anxious.
Sweatpants Season Page 19
