by Leach, Kiki
She moaned as the curve of his dick shaped itself against the base of her ass. Unconsciously, she started rocking against him, shifting herself at every turn to hold onto each sensation he provided. She had performed this act many times with him before. Except it was almost always without clothes on, and never in bed.
“Tell me,” he said to her, keeping his hands on her hips. His voice lowered with every stroke.
When she realized what was happening, that her nipples were hard, that her thighs were trembling, that her lips were wet, she tried stepping away from him.
But he held her back.
“Don’t,” she said, though her body wouldn’t stop rocking, couldn’t stop rocking, challenging his to steady to her perfect speed.
Oscar bent his face down to her neck and sucked on her skin.
“Tell me,” he said again, as he lifted his hand around her stomach and slid it up past her waist. When he reached her breast and held it tight in his hand, her head fell back.
That’s when he knew her resolve was no longer a factor.
She swiped her tongue back and forth across his lips and he brushed his lips up and down the side of her face.
As she spun around in his arms, he walked her back into the wall and shoved his leg between hers, spreading them apart. And then he kissed her. With tongue and hands and body and emotion. He put everything he had into that kiss, to show, to prove to her that he meant what he said. He wanted a life with her, he wanted everything with her, and he was determined to have it. Come hell or high water, come William. He was determined to have who and what he felt was so rightfully his.
His hands slid down her back and around her ass. She knew that she shouldn’t be with him, kissing him, forcing herself to feel the stiffness of his dick as it pressed between her legs, between her flesh, against her clit.
But it was him, it was Oscar. It was a man, the only man she had ever wanted as more than just someone to fuck on a random basis. He was the man who knew her and challenged her and begged for her and loved her and accepted her. And now he was finally doing the one thing she needed the most to make them feel real, putting her first, putting them first.
How could she turn her back on that? How could she continue on with someone else, even if on paper, he was the better option?
She couldn’t. He knew she couldn’t and on some deep level, she was convinced William knew it to.
And so she gave in. She gave into her heart. She let him rip it straight from her chest one more time to hold in his hands. Now he had no choice but to keep it safe. He had no choice but to keep it from being broken. He had no choice but to finally follow through on his promise to her, to them.
He had no choice.
Part Three
After waiting around The Tea Leaf Café for nearly an hour for the other half of his party to finally arrive, Maurice was becoming more and more restless as each second without their presence ticked by.
It was bad enough that he had to lie his ass off to Vanessa just to get out of the house and to keep her from asking more questions than she had already. Now he was being forced to meet with a woman he was hoping to never lay eyes on again, if only to keep what he had worked so damn hard to build with his woman from righteously blowing up in his face.
As he checked his watch and reached out to the waiter to order another coffee to go, he finally saw the person he had been so anxious yet dreading to lay eyes on again standing in the doorway of the café and staring back at him.
Olivia Greenwald. A long legged, slithering snake with pure green eyes and lust spilling out over the top of her low cut blouse (it barely managed to cover even her nipples, which he could see as she was wearing no bra).
She practically salivated the moment she approached his table.
“We meet again,” she said, her voice cool and thick as it hung between them in the atmosphere. Her eyes glided down his wardrobe to the center of his pants and she wet her lips.
Maurice pointed to the chair across from him and she took a seat, placing a manila folder on the table alongside her purse. When the waiter returned, she ordered a water and biscotti. Maurice waved his hand, indicating he had had enough.
But coffee wasn’t the only thing on his mind.
After pulling down on her skirt, Olivia placed her hands in her lap and leaned back in her chair, smiling. “You’re just as handsome as you were on the beach,” she said. “Even more handsome than the first time I saw you, which was exactly five years ago.”
Maurice leaned on the table and flared his nostrils. The last thing he wanted was to play games with this woman. He’d never physically strike anyone of the opposite sex, but the more she egged him on while trying to be ‘cute’ and ‘flirty’, the more he was willing to forgo his natural beliefs and reach out and touch more than just her hand.
“Why the fuck do you still have my number?”
Her smile widened and she reached into her small bag. Pulling out her phone, she began to scroll through her address book. Then she turned the phone around to show his name in her list; directly beneath the ‘L’, ‘Maurice’ was surrounded by tiny pink and red hearts.
He thought she was absolutely mental.
“I save the information of all my initial sources,” she said. “Especially ones that manage to look like you.”
“What the fuck do you want, lady?”
“Well, if my suggestive phone call to you wasn’t enough, I’ll try being a little more forward. I want you. In my bed. And between my legs.” The waiter pretended not to hear a thing said between them and placed the biscotti and coffee in front of her. She turned her eyes up to him and winked. “Thank you.”
As soon as he was gone, Maurice leaned even further into the table. “Are you’re fucking crazy -- ?”
“No, I’m horny, there is a difference.” She took a quick bite of the biscotti and brushed the crumbs from her hands. “Harold and I aren’t as sexually active as I would like to be. I realized as much this weekend the few times he couldn’t seem to get it up even with the help of a little blue pill. And I’ve come to believe that the reason behind it is because I’m too much for him; he can’t keep up with my stamina. Being the age that I am versus the age that he is, let’s just say that I believe someone with more vigor is more my speed. Which is where you come in.”
“What the hell makes you think that I would actually touch you with a ten foot pole? Let alone --”
“The one inside your pants?” She laughed. “Well, you want to keep onto that little girlfriend you’ve got, don’t you?” She reached for her cup of coffee and stared into his panicked eyes while taking a sip. “I’m fully aware, just as much as I was then, that you don’t want Vanessa Rae Brown – hater of the paparazzi, queen of the Glitterati – to know about you being the one to tell me all the information regarding her former boyfriend’s indiscretion with her best friend at the time. Now that you two are officially together – and it warms my heart, believe me. I’ll never forget the soft spoken tone in your voice every time you said her name.” She grinned. “But I’m guessing that things could get a little tricky in that department if she were to find out the truth.”
“You’re asking me to fuck you so that you keep quiet.”
“I wouldn’t be quiet as you were fucking me, but yes, that’s the idea – one in which you seem a little bit disturbed by. I’m sure many woman have done more, or less, in attempts to get you into bed.” She ran her tongue around both lips and crossed her legs as tight as she could. “I just want a chance to know if what so many women in this city have always said about you is in fact true.”
“You act as if I’ve run through the whole Tristate area with my dick.”
“You haven’t?” she asked. And then she smiled again. “Either way, I don’t exactly mind it running through me quite a few times.”
Maurice blew steam through his nose. “I’m not jeopardizing what I have with Vanessa by having sex with you.”
“Then I guess I’ll hav
e no choice but to show her just exactly why her boyfriend’s number has been sitting at the top of my phone list for the last five years.”
She flipped open the envelope and pulled out a revised version of the article, now including his name, as well as a picture of them standing together outside of the building in which they first met.
Maurice ripped the paper from the table, then slammed it back down. Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip to keep from losing his cool in public, he sat back and ran his hand down the front of his jacket, tugging at the lapels. “Who the hell did you find to take that picture of us from back then?”
“Don’t worry your pretty face about that. All you need to know is that it exists.”
He opened his hands and shook his head, glaring at her. “Why are you coming for me now? You’ve had ample time over the years to get what you wanted, when I wasn’t attached to anyone or anything except random pussy. If you wanted it that bad, why didn’t you come around then?”
She waited, thinking.
“I suppose I could’ve,” she said. “And I probably should’ve. But other men have come and gone before you, Maurice. And at the time, there were no stakes where you were concerned and thus, no fun. Running through random pussy is one thing. But running through pussy like mine is like an experience you will never have with anyone else. Because I can promise that after a single taste, you will be begging for me to stop, while at the same time wanting more, and more, and more and more.”
“I won’t be begging for shit,” he said, tossing his napkin on the table and rising from his chair. “Except for you to stop riding a dick you’ll never get to see in person.”
“Is that a promise?”
He placed his hand down on the edge of the table and bent down to her face. “Lady, that’s a fucking guarantee.”
She sat back and sighed as he stood up. “Well, that is indeed your choice. One night with me and your troubles about the past could easily fade away. You run the risk of her learning the truth if you choose not to take me up on this. And I have a feeling that she’s not the kind of woman who will ‘stand by her man’ once she’s learned that he has done her wrong the way that you have. Didn’t you learn any lessons from my article?” She picked up her coffee again and took a few more sips. “Hell hath no fury like a bitch scorned.”
“Vanessa will forgive me for this,” he said. “Once she realizes that it was all for her.”
“Are you sure about that? Or is it just something that you’re hoping before she drop kicks you to the curb? When she does, just know that I’ll still be there waiting for you.”
“Like any good whore, right?”
Maurice glared at her before tossing some change onto the table and hastily exiting the café. She laughed to herself, convinced that he would come back around soon enough.
They both knew it was only a matter of time before Vanessa learned the truth now.
The only question remaining was, who had the means to spill that truth first?
Part Four
While frantically strolling back and forth across her living room and drinking one mimosa after the other to keep from plummeting off the deep end, Vanessa reached out to every person in her rolodex that she knew, who also knew Nathan, and questioned his whereabouts.
Unfortunately, not a single person, including his former high school teammate and current coworker, Eddie Gallagher, had heard from him since before he left town.
The few times she had tried calling Nathan without interference were unsuccessful as well. His voicemail was completely full and thus taking no more messages. She wasn’t sure if it was because of Sheila leaving so many of them or if he had managed to trick his phone into completely ignoring calls from certain people with her being at the top of the list.
At the same time, she felt he had no right in hell to be pissed. They were done long before she ever gave Adrian a second glance, long done before she knew a man like Adrian even existed. If anyone had a right to be pissed at her about the entire situation involving Adrian and the baby, it was most certainly her current love, Maurice. He was probably going to be livid too, but not enough to leave her. Not enough, she hoped.
When her phone started ringing, she placed her mimosa on the table and raced over to the couch where it landed after she had earlier tossed it across the room. Hoping like hell that the person calling would be Nathan or someone with news about having heard from him or knowing where he was, she was more than slightly pissed when she noticed another name flashing across her screen instead. One she had no interest in having anything to do with at the moment.
“Damn it,” she muttered, staring down at that name. “I don’t have time for you right now.”
She clicked the red button, sending them straight to voicemail, and tossed the phone back onto the couch.
As she traipsed back over to the table and grabbed her glass to take a few more sips of her drink, the phone immediately started to ring again. She tried ignoring it and when it finally stopped, hoped that would be the end of it.
But then her doorbell rang, and she was seriously starting to consider what life would be like living in a monastery. At this point, the only downside she saw was not having sex on a regular basis, if at all.
Certain that the person violating both her door and bell had absolutely nothing to do with Nathan, she drank the rest of her mimosa, wrapped her robe around herself as tightly as she could and headed for the door.
“I’m coming!” she called out to the impatient person waiting for her on the other side.
When she looked out the peephole, their back was turned to her. All she could see was that it was a woman, with long wavy hair sitting just above her waist. She was wearing a pink Dior suit with a matching fedora and Louboutin heels with thin spikes that were too damn high for her height.
And then suddenly, she got a sick feeling in her stomach and turned back to the living room. She immediately eyed her phone as it remained on the couch, then closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Aw, shit.”
Grabbing onto the knob, she unlocked the door and pulled it back hard. It swung so fast, the wind blew back the strands of her hair.
Spinning around on the back of those spiked heels was none other than her older, and now more polished sister, Felicia.
Smiling and tilting her head, she removed a pair of white gloves from each of her hands and held on tight to the black clutch bag she had beneath her arm. The spitting image of their mother right down to the tip of her slightly bubbled nose, high cheekbones and catlike brown eyes, Vanessa wanted to keel over the moment she stepped forward.
The good one was back in town, she thought. The faultless daughter returns.
“Baby sister,” said Felicia. Her voice was raspier than she remembered hearing on the phone a few months ago, as if she had been yelling about something or at someone nonstop ever since. Eyeing Vanessa up and down in amusement, she smirked and slapped her gloves into the palm of her hand. “I see some things never change.”
“No they don’t, like you calling while standing right outside my damn door.”
“Why are you speaking to me as if I just live down the street from you, Vanessa and came by to borrow a cup of sugar instead of traveling from another state?”
“How the hell should I be speaking to you instead?”
“Gee, Vanessa, I don’t know. How about first starting with being happy to see me--”
“I’m not, next.”
Felicia was taken aback; shaken but not stirred and didn’t let her little sister overwhelm her need for being there. Tension had been between them since they were children seeing as Felicia was always considered a ‘better daughter’ so to speak. In opposition to Vanessa, she never drank, never smoked, was never arrested for so much as jaywalking and lived her life according to the book of ‘good and obedient children’.
In the words of her sister, she was ‘fucking perfect.’
“Alright,” she continued, “then how ab
out asking me a few things instead. Such as how I’m doing--”
“I don’t care,” Vanessa snapped back.
“Or if I would like to come in and sit down?”
“I don’t want you inside my house.”
“Then how about my flight?”
Vanessa shook her head and stuck out her bottom lip. “Don’t care about that either. Glad you didn’t die, that’s about it.”
“Alright.” Felicia placed her gloves inside her clutch and snapped it shut. “Then how about asking why I’m here in the first damn place?”
Vanessa crossed her arms and hovered her lids over her eyes, feeling defeated. “Okay. You’ve got me with that one, why are you here?”
“Alexis called me,” she confessed.
“Shit.”
“After we discussed my coming to visit for the summer and bringing the girls to see her and Alexander, I decided that it might be best to come on my own first to test the waters. But I hadn’t told her that just yet. As luck would have it, she called me first and asked me to come out and see about you.”
“Why would she do that?”
She sighed and lifted a soothing hand to her sister’s hair, running her fingers through every strand. Her eyes saddened and her face fell to a numb expression that even Vanessa couldn’t understand.
“Because Rodney and I are splitting up,” she said. “And our mother wants me to tell you in person just how, and why what happened to me will no doubt happen to you too if you don’t get your shit together and tell your man the damn truth about this Adrian Samuels situation.”
Felicia pushed past her sister and moved into the house.
Vanessa turned back to her, her mouth open from hearing the news of her sister’s crumbling marriage, and closed the door.
She followed Felicia into the living room and kept her eyes on her as she removed her hat and Dior jacket, placing it on the back of the couch. She tugged on the pink tank she was wearing underneath it and shook out the natural curls of her hair.
“This place isn’t as big as I remember it being,” she said.
