Committed

by Alycia Taylor

  I pulled hard on his ass, bringing it toward me, wanting him to go deeper. Then he licked along my jaw, tasting all of me, while continuing to drive me insane below.

  I cried out again when he finally entered me again, "Yeeeessss."

  I opened my eyes and looked at him, a delicious grin had spread across his face as he slid his hand down between our bodies and began to stroke my clit with his finger as he moved in and out of me. He moved slowly and lazily causing me to push harder against his ass cheeks, begging him for more.

  All of a sudden he gave it to me, sinking all the way inside bringing our bodies together with a slap. I let out a yelp, but as I did he covered my mouth with his, stroking my tongue as he began to thrust deeper…and with purpose. He started rubbing my clit harder with short, brutal strokes. His mouth was fierce on mine and I felt my whole body begin to shake as my climax built up, threatening to release. When it finally did I lifted up off the carpet with a long, slow moan. Every part of my body was tingling and my toes were curled as the slow pressure was released in one incredible wave after another.

  Braxton continued to thrust into me, pushing me beyond the moans and into mewling sounds that I didn’t even know I could make.

  “That’s it,” he groaned. “God, I love watching you come.”

  I couldn’t speak words. I only smiled and held on to his shoulders as his hips continued to slam against my body over and over. I could still feel the tremors shaking my body as his pace increased and I knew he was getting close. He reached down and pulled up my leg, trapping it alongside his chest. Then he did the same with my other leg, practically folding me in half and hitting me deep inside with each new thrust. I was gasping for air and clawing at his shoulders as he ground against me, becoming a heated mass between my legs as I felt him tense.

  “Shit!” he yelled out in an orgasm.

  He pushed into me a few more times as we coasted along, finally allowing my legs to unbend and stretch out along either side of him as he leaned in and kissed me again.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  I kissed him again, hard…hoping he wouldn’t notice that even though we just talked about it, I still couldn’t say it back.

  I never made it to my class.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BRAXTON

  A few days after we had the talk about the contract, Emmi giving me the best nooner I ever had and me telling her I loved her, I got a text from her on my way home from class.

  It said, “Hey will you do me a favor?”

  “Sure, what?”

  “I have an assignment for photography class. I need a model.”

  “Nude?” I asked, messing with her.

  “No!” she said exclamation point and all. Then she made me smile by adding, “We can do those later for our private collection.”

  “Sure, whatever you need.”

  When I got home she had my “outfits” laid out on the bed. She wanted me in jeans and a nice shirt, then jeans and a T-shirt, and then jeans and no shirt and then in my fight shorts. I started stripping down.

  “I’ll give you some privacy,” she said and covered her eyes.

  “Scared of seeing my sexy body still? You’ve seen me naked plenty of times by now,” I told her laughing.

  She was blushing which I found damn cute.

  “I know, but if I just stand here and see you naked I won’t be able to focus on my project.”

  I did like knowing that I had virtually the same effect on her as she did on me.

  She left and I put on the first outfit. It was a shirt that I had bought literally years ago and had never worn. I had gotten it home and decided it wasn’t my color. Then I had hung it in the closet and forgot about it. It was a long-sleeved pullover shirt made out of some soft cotton material. That was why I bought it. I liked the way it felt. It was a weird color, though I thought a woman would call it teal. As a man, I would say blue or green, or blue-green.

  When I was dressed I made sure my hair was okay and I went out into the living room. Emmi had her lights and all of her photography stuff all set up and she playfully whistled when she saw me.

  “Wow, you look great. You should wear that shirt more often. It really is your color.”

  “What? Were you expecting me not to look great? Thanks though,” I told her with a grin. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I think we’re going to take some standing and some sitting. The light is really good over here near the couch. Let’s start there.” I noticed that she had draped a plaid blanket over the couch that had thick brown stripes and thick “teal” ones that matched the shade of my shirt exactly.

  I went over and sat down and as she put her eye to the lens of the camera I asked her, “How do you want me to pose?”

  “No posing,” she informed me. “I want you to look natural. Just don’t forget to breathe, breathing is really important. Just breathe in and out like you would normally.” She snapped a couple of pictures and then she said, “Okay back straight, shoulders up. Slouching affects the mood of the whole thing and takes away from those six pack abs you work so hard on.”

  I guess I would be posing.

  I sat up straighter and she took a few more, getting in close on some, and across the room on others, telling me to smile, reminding me to breathe. She was like a real professional and it was turning me on seeing her in her element. After a bit she sent me in to change my shirt into the green T-shirt she had laid out for me.

  This time when I came out she said, “Wow, that color really makes your eyes pop. Okay, let’s have you stand by the window. Look like you’re glancing out through the blinds.” I must have started looking really uncomfortable because she said, “Here,” took one of my arms and put it straight at my side and bent the other at my elbow and then told me to hold on to the curtain. “Also bend one knee slightly, don’t lock both your legs straight or it makes you look like a robot,” she told me.

  She had me take my T-shirt off and made a silly face and fanned herself. I knew she was just messing around, but it was making me hot.

  “Okay, pick up one of those books and act like you’re reading it, look smart.”

  I grinned. “That’s pushing it,” I told her.

  She giggled. “Shush, you know you are. Now, don’t look at the camera. Look at the book. Okay, now glance out the window and tilt your head back a little. Now, change your expression, give me a thoughtful look.”

  Her command of the shoot was making me long to touch her. I could feel the front of my pants trying to stretch to accommodate my thoughts.

  After several more shots she said, “Okay, go put on your fighting shorts.”

  “At your service,” I said, saluting her.

  On my way past her as she was bent down doing something with her camera, I grabbed her ass making her jump. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to at least have one kiss. She held her hand to her heart, probably from being scared. I titled my head down and kissed her lips. She seemed eager to accommodate and we shared a long, hot kiss.

  “We could take a break and mess around,” I tried.

  Emmi laughed and said, “Just go change and worry about that later.”

  Shit. Maybe next time.

  When I came back she said, “Mm…Yeah definitely time for that later.” Now my dick was twitching in my shorts. She glanced at my crotch and said, “Think of your grandma or something for now, I don’t want to turn in X-rated photos.”

  “I told you we should just take a short break.”

  “Sam, naked, French kissing you.” That was dirty on her part, but it worked.

  She had me do some fight stances and took a bunch more pictures.

  “Gimme a tough look. Good, now a frown. And now a scowl.” When she finished she said, “Do you mind if we take some together now?”

  “Not if it means I get to touch you,” I told her with a grin.

  She snickered and said, “Yeah, you can touch but nothing too risqué. These are for the school pa
per.”

  “The paper? Why?”

  “Remember the picture Sarah wasn’t supposed to publish?” I nodded and she went on, “Well, she did. I think she still has it bad for you and she’s doing her best to make me miserable. I want to do a spread about you as a fighter and then we’ll add a blurb about your personal life and your new girlfriend. As long as the whole school saw Sarah’s picture, they may as well get an eyeful.”

  I sniggered and agreed. I had no objections to the whole world seeing me with Emmi. I knew I was a lucky guy.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EMMI

  “Stop that! My mother will be here any minute.” I was standing at the sink washing some dishes and Braxton was leaning up behind me running his hands all over me.

  “If I stop before she gets here, she’ll never know I was molesting you prior,” he tried.

  “She’s my mother, she’ll know,” I told him.

  He laughed, but he stopped. “What can I do to make you less nervous?” he asked me.

  “I’m not nervous,” I lied.

  He laughed again. “Oh, sorry, my mistake,” he said sarcastically.

  “Okay, I’m a little nervous,” I admitted.

  “Do you think she won’t like me?”

  “No, I think she’ll love you. It’s just…well, when I moved in we were just roommates and now we’re dating and the fact that we’re dating and living together is going to make it obvious to her that we’re having sex.”

  “And she’ll object to that? We are consenting adults,” he said and laughed.

  “Yes, we are, and she knows that. She’s not a prude, but it’s different when it’s your kid.”

  He frowned. “I should be glad your dad couldn’t make it, shouldn’t I?”

  He had no idea of how much truth he spoke. After Trent cheated on me I had a breakdown and admitted to my mom that we had been having sex. Then I told her what I walked in on him doing. I should have known she would tell my dad, she told him everything. He was furious and he wanted to do to him what Braxton had that night in the bar. I doubted he would be too easy on Braxton when he met him because of that.

  I didn’t want to scare him though so I said, “Nah, my dad’s a gentle guy.”

  Braxton laughed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  The doorbell rang and I ran to get it. I hadn’t seen my mother in over a month. When I opened the door she wrapped me in a bear hug.

  “I’m so happy to see you!” she squealed. “Let me look at you. You’re too skinny, have you been eating?”

  “I eat all the time, Mom. Come in.” Braxton was waiting for us in the living room. “Mom, this is Braxton, Braxton my mother.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you Mrs—”

  “Jennifer,” my mother told him, taking his hand. “I don’t care for that Mrs. stuff. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Braxton. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Braxton’s eyes cut over to me and then back to Mom as he said, “I’m sorry to hear that,” with a chuckle.

  “I was getting ready to make dinner,” I told her. “Do you want to come in the kitchen while I cook?”

  “No, I want to help,” she said.

  “Me too,” Braxton said, with a grin. He was showing off for my mother. That was better than him not trying.

  “Okay then, I’ll put you both to chopping vegetables.”

  I was making stir-fry and ginger chicken, so while I started the chicken I put Mom and Braxton at either end of the table with cutting boards and stir-fry vegetables that needed to be cut. They not only did a good job of dicing the zucchini, asparagus, onions and peppers, but they seemed to be having fun with it as they talked like old friends.

  “So, Braxton, Emmi tells me you’re some kind of computer major?”

  “Yeah, I want to do computer programming and networking, stuff like that someday. I like messing with computers.”

  “I wish I did,” my mother said. I had heard her complain about the electronic system the hospital had adopted for five years and I knew what was coming. “You know I’m a nurse?” Braxton nodded and she went on, “Well, they came up with the brilliant idea that medical records should all be electronic. I’d be okay with that except they expect me to chart everything I do right there into that darn computer. Half the time the system is down or if you touch the wrong thing it goes down. I just think it would be so much better if they just let us write in the chart like we used to and they have someone else put the info into the computer like they used to.”

  I was smiling as I dropped the chicken into the hot oil. My mother was definitely old school when it came to electronics. She still had a flip-phone.

  “Maybe their system isn’t any good,” Braxton told her. “That really makes a difference.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it was a cheap one. The hospitals like to charge an arm and a leg for medical care, but putting money out is never on the top of their agenda. Emmi, how is Zoe? I saw her mother at the salon the other day and she said she rarely hears from her.”

  “She’s good, Mom. She’s just been really busy with her studies.” I was trying not to make eye contact with Braxton but he forced it by moving into my line of sight. He was mouthing, “Parties” over my mom’s bent head.

  “Shut up,” I mouthed back. He was right; Zoe had never been such a party animal before she became part of a sorority. But she was always safe and still getting decent grades so I wasn’t about to rat her out.

  “Well,” my mother said, “that’s good to know. Tell her to call her mother.”

  “I will,” I said with a smile. I took the chopped vegetables from them and put them in the pan. While I did that, my mom made some Jasmine rice and Braxton set the table.

  When he finished he said, “Mrs…I’m sorry, Jennifer, what would you like to drink with dinner? We have red wine, or iced tea or soda…”

  “Red wine?” she said questioningly with a glance in my direction.

  Braxton saved the moment by saying, “Yeah, I went on a wine-tasting trip with some friends of mine last summer and picked it up. They said it was really good, but I haven’t opened it yet.”

  That seemed to make her feel a little better. Braxton was old enough to legally drink, but like I said earlier, she’s a mom.

  “I think I’ll just have ice water, dear, thank you.”

  While we ate, my mother was kind enough to regale Braxton with tales of my youth. I’m not sure why parents always think the most embarrassing moments of your life are the most story-worthy. Braxton was enjoying himself anyways, or at least he seemed to be. Probably because his sister had told me stories about his youth. I’m sure he felt like this was easy payback.

  He was such an enigma to me sometimes. He went from hot player to tough guy fighter to scholar to mother winner over so easily. I never really knew what role he would slide into next. It was fun to watch though; it showed me that there were so many different sides to him.

  After dinner we all pitched in to clean up the kitchen and when we finished my mom said, “I brought Scrabble.” Scrabble had been our favorite game to play together when I lived at home. Since I moved out, we still played against each other on Facebook.

  “Oh, good,” I said. “You want to play, Braxton?”

  A grin formed across his face. “Sure, but I have to warn you that I am a killer scrabble player.”

  My mom cackled and said, “We’ll see if you’re so cocky after my daughter and I finish with you, young man.”

  “Okay, you two. That is enough.” I laughed.

  My mom set up the game and we gathered around the table. She was keeping score and Braxton pretended like he didn’t trust her not to cheat. He insisted on seeing every point she wrote down. On one play I did the word “Skaters” and used all of my tiles. With the extra fifty for that I got eighty-two points.

  “Well, this game is over,” Braxton said.

  “It was over before it started,” I told him.

  He gave me a slant-eyed look and said, “Tho
se are fighting words.”

  “Bring it on,” I told him. He really did, and in spite of my eighty plus points, he still beat me, and my mom.

  “Dang! Emmi told me you were a fighter. I just assumed your brain would be too mushy to win at Scrabble,” my mom joked.

  She kept a straight face and a shocked expression was covering his face. I knew she was kidding but he didn’t seem to.

  “I see where your daughter gets it now,” he tried, faking a laugh.

  “We are perfect,” she joked again, grabbing my arm. “Well I better get going before your father thinks I got lost.”

  “All right,” I told her as we both got up and walked to the door.

  “Nice meeting you!” Braxton yelled to Mom from the table.

  “You too Braxton!” she shouted back at him and then she looked at me. “He’s a very nice boy but you two better be good Emmi. I don’t need to remind you how babies are—”

  “Bye mom. I love you,” I said, opening the door and almost shoving her out.

  “I love you too sweetie,” she replied.

  After my mom was out the door, Braxton said, “At first I wasn’t sure if she was serious about my brain being mush or not.”

  I laughed and said, “You figured out she was kidding, right?”

  “Yeah, I got it when I looked at her eyes. She has this twinkle in her eyes like you get when you’re teasing. It makes for bad liars though.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” I said. “You’ll always be able to tell if I’m not being honest with you?”

  “It’s funny,” he said. “But I can’t imagine you not being honest with me. By the way, I really like your mom.”

  “Good,” I said. It made me happy to hear that. “I’m pretty sure she really likes you too.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his moistened lips.

  *********

  When I woke up the next morning, Braxton had already gone to work out but he had left a note that said, “Please don’t make any plans for tonight. I will call you later and explain.”

  I couldn’t imagine what he was up to, his fight wasn’t for two days and it was a Thursday night. As far as I knew nothing special was going on around town or on campus. I spent the rest of my morning thinking about it when he finally called.