Jimmy looked away, and I saw jealousy in his eyes, a flash and then gone.
We spent the day with Jimmy, heading back to my house as the sun set.
Instead of getting out with me, Tre stayed in the truck. "I'm going to grab a few things from home...from my parent's house. I'll be back in a little bit."
I agreed, kissed him, told him to be careful. I'd seen the anger in both men, and I didn't want Tre to come back hurt.
He showed up about half an hour later, bringing big duffel bag upstairs with him, anger and frustration and hurt in his eyes and the set of his jaw. He stopped short when he saw me. I'd decided to surprise him with a little show, a reward for standing up to his dad. I was lying on the bed, posing. I was on my side, facing the doorway, head propped in one hand, wearing nothing but a long string of pearls I'd inherited from my grandmother. The pearls were draped around my neck and hanging between my breasts.
Tre just stood there for a shocked moment, staring at me. He dropped the bag and descended the three steps into my room—our room. He stood in front of me, his gaze openly ravenous.
"Take off your clothes," I told him. He started to oblige, ripping his shirt over his head.
"No. Slow. Give me a show," I said. "You like to look at me...well I like to look at you, too."
Tre smiled a slow smile and peeled his shirt off gradually, undulating his hips and rocking his torso. He moved awkwardly at first, hesitant and self-conscious, then gradually began to get into the dance. It wasn't a striptease like you'd see at stripclub, since he'd never seen that kind of dancing in movies or real life, but he gave it all he had, trying to dance sexily, and oh my Lord, did he succeed.
He wrapped his shirt around his fists and stretched his arms above his head, straining his muscles, posing, flexing. Then he tossed the shirt aside and unbuttoned his jeans, moving his hips in a suggestive circle. He turned around and faced away from me as he bent over to take off his shoes and socks, then turned back around and resumed his undulation of his abdominal muscles and the rocking of his hips. He pushed his pants off, sliding them down and stepping out, kicking them aside and dancing all the while.
It was a strange scene, his not-quite-comically cute dancing, still somehow sexy to me. His body turned me on, just the sight of his muscles and his cock bulging against his boxers. He teased me with his boxers, pulling them down and then back up, giving me peeks at his penis.
He stepped close to the bed, and I snagged the band of his boxers, rolling to my belly and pulling him to my face. I pushed the boxer down and took the head in mouth, sucking gently, a tease, a promise.
I pulled him onto the bed, pushed him onto his back and left him there.
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
He nodded, suddenly wary.
"I'm going to do something new tonight. Just lay there and let me do it. You'll like it, I promise."
He just nodded. I went to my dresser and pulled out two silk scarves, one crimson and one deep purple. I draped one scarf across his chest, took his right hand in mine, wrapped the end of the scarf around his wrist and tied the other end to the bedpost, wrapping it around both post and wrist several times and tying it off. I sat astride him, taking the other scarf in my hand. I ground my pussy against him, getting him ready, sliding my slick, desire-wet flesh against him.
"Oh, please," he whispered. "I want you."
He reached for me, slid his free hand over me, touching my breasts and nipples, stretching down to reach for my pussy.
"You'll have me," I said, grinding against him but not sheathing him inside me yet. "But I'm not done tying you up. You'll just have to trust me."
He rocked his hips against me once more, caressed my breast before lying back and waiting. I tied his left wrist like the right.
"Are they too tight? It shouldn't hurt, just restrain you."
He shook his head. "No, it's fine. But how am I supposed to do anything like this?"
I laughed, sitting astride him again, but across his knees, leaving his body exposed to my hands. "You'll just have to let me do all the work, then, won't you?"
I ran my hands over him, tickling his thighs, cupping his balls and stroking his hard, silky length with a finger, then leaned over him and brushed my breasts up his body to kiss him. I slid against him, kissing him with all the passion I had, grinding against him until he was rocking into me in a desperate frenzy. I slid back away, then, leaving his cock wet and throbbing in open air, bending to kiss his hips, his thighs, kissing his sac and his cock before moving away to his belly again, planting soft, tonguing kisses all over his body.
I pressed my nipple into his mouth, let him suck my tits, switching back and forth, ignoring his still-thrusting hips. I moved up farther still, sitting on his chest, then up farther again and holding myself aloft by the posts.
"Kiss me, down there," I told him. "Lick my pussy."
I lowered my crotch to his face and felt his tongue lap out, stroking my entrance. I sighed in pleasure as he laved again, seeking my clit with the tip of his tongue, moving it in circles like I'd shown him to do with his fingers. I couldn't hold myself up for long, and slid back down his body until the head of his cock was pressed against my cleft.
"Will you do that to me again, later?" I asked.
"You tasted good, I liked it. I'll do it again. I'll do it all the time."
"Good," I breathed.
I took him in my hand and guided him in, just an inch at first. I fluttered my hips, quick, shallow thrusts, balancing upright so his cock was stretched away from his body. When his breathing began to grow ragged and his thrusts desperate, I pulled back up and away so he was nearly out of me, leaning forward then and holding there, just the very tip inside me. He was quivering, shaking, trying to get deeper, and I matched his forward thrusts with equal movements away. With each flutter of his tip, he throbbed against my clit, and I ground my teeth to contain my gasps, already so close, so near to coming.
"You're teasing me," Tre said.
"Yes, I am. I'm gonna draw this out until you can't stand it anymore."
"I already can't," he said, straining at the scarves.
I just smiled at him, fluttering my pussy at the tip of his cock, not letting him get more than an inch in. He bucked his hips up, supporting his weight with his feet, but I kept myself away from him, lifting up until I was nearly in the downward-facing dog yoga position. He relaxed again, and I leaned forward to kiss him, putting my weight on his chest, fluttering again.
He lost himself in the kiss, flexing his arms against the restraints, delving into the passion of our locked lips, forgetting for a moment the teasing game I was playing. I didn't forget. The kiss was enough to nearly drive me over the edge.
I chose that moment, when he ceased trying to get deeper, to plunge my hips down on him fully and then sitting back on him with his cock buried to the hilt inside me. I relaxed forward again and fluttered, just giving him that one taste of full impalement.
All this while, my pearls were around my neck, bouncing gently against my chest as I moved, a string of white against my tan skin. I moved down toward Tre, intending to kiss him, but he seized that moment to take the string of pearls in his mouth and hold me there for fear of breaking the strand. While he had me trapped, he thrust into me; he wasn't hard or desperate about it, but slow and intentional, grinning past the pearls in his mouth as he plunged into me.
I almost came, then.
I let him take control, closing back in with him. I had been teasing myself as much as him. I wanted him deep inside me, and depriving myself of that was as titillating for me as it was for him. I was nearing the edge, again, and he was pushing me closer.
He kept his strokes deep and slow, pushing himself as far in as he could go and drawing back out, and I began to match him, pulsing up and back down in time with him.
"Let my arms go," he said. "I want to touch you."
I shook my head. "Make me come first. Then I'll untie you and you can touch me all you wan
t."
I didn't tell him I was close, so close. I was trying to control my reaction, trying to keep my pace steady and stop the whimpers from escaping my lips. I mashed my face into his neck, bit him, unable to stop a gasp from slipping out as he increased his tempo, rocking me harder and harder, and then...oh God, oh my Lord, he slowed it back down, gritting his teeth and gasping into my hair.
"Oh God, Tre, don't stop! Not now! I'm so close, I'm almost there, please...."
He drew himself almost out of me, returning the tease now, just barely brushing my slick, dripping labia with his engorged head. I kept my hips up, holding still, feeling a thrill of lightning shoot through me at each tender, questing touch of his cock. Just when I was about to beg him to finish me, he tilted his hips and slipped it back in, moving with an agonizing slowness, millimeter by millimeter.
I broke first. I crushed my pussy down around him, crying out and abandoning all games, all thought. I had come so close to orgasm so many times, been on the cusp of detonation and been brought back away. Now, now with his cock drilling into me, diving with relentless abandon, I came with a fury that erased every orgasm I'd ever had.
In the past, even with Tre, I'd shrieked, whimpered, gasped, cried out, called his name, called on God and heaven and "oh yes fuck me," but never, in all my life, had I ever screamed.
I screamed then, tilting my head back and voicing a full-on scream.
The world went white and I dug my arms around his neck, squeezed with all I had, driving my pussy onto him over and over again, unable to control my body. I saw stars, felt a million galaxies all go supernova in my belly as Tre convulsed into me.
I was still riding the cusp of my orgasm when Tre came, and that sent me over the edge all over again. I felt his penis clench and release, felt the flood his essence fill me, slosh against my walls and drip loose between our joined members. I was sobbing his name into his lips, into his teeth. Our hips were locked together now, moving in sync, both of us orgasming together, and Tre was whispering my name with equal fervor.
"Oh, Shea...oh God, Shea..." his voice was rough with emotion. "Oh my God, that was...I think...I think I just saw heaven."
I lifted my head up enough to meet his eyes. "So did I." I kissed him, a tender caress of the lips. "I'm seeing heaven right now."
I hadn't meant to say that last part, not looking at him the way I was. It was too much like vulnerability, like admitting the truth that was floating around deep inside the core of my soul, behind the walls he was too naive to see.
I wasn't in love with him, but I was close. I could see it happening, if things continued.
That terrified me.
I rolled off of him, untied his wrists from the bedposts and cuddled into him, pushing down both the fear and the burgeoning attachment with equal ferocity. I tried to hide by not looking at him, knowing he'd see something in my eyes or on my face, and ask about it. He'd ask questions I didn't have the answers to.
"Shea?" His voice was far too concerned and far too full of compassion to ignore.
"Yeah?" I suspected he'd seen or felt what I was hiding.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I lied. "I'm just...spent. I've never in my life felt anything like that before. I don't think I could move if I tried."
"Me either," he said. "But it's more than that. There's something wrong. I can...I don't know, I can feel it. Maybe that sounds crazy, but I can just feel it coming off of you."
I hesitated a beat too long. "It's nothing."
There was anger in his voice when he spoke next. "You're lying to me, Shea." He didn't pull away physically, but I felt him withdrawing emotionally. "I can take it if you want to...be with me. If you—if this is just...just sex, I get that."
He spoke to the ceiling, his arms strong around me, but his heart pulling away. I wasn't sure how it had happened, since we'd done little together but have sex, but somehow I had started feeling something for him besides lust. He was waiting for me to answer, and I couldn't, I just shook my head, and he sighed.
I tried to figure out what had happened. When I saw him in the church, I was immediately attracted to him. He was gorgeous, with his angular face and perfect hair and natural bulk, but it was offset by something in his eyes, a kindness that was genuine, a true, bone-deep goodness that was truly rare. He was naive, and innocent, though, sheltered from just about everything that comprises the world at large, life in general. I doubted he knew how to survive on his own out there, away from his father. I doubt he understood what love really was, or how to take care of a woman.
I didn't doubt that he could learn, but my fear was that I'd have to teach him, and I needed someone that could not just erase the awful memories of my ex-husband, but to love me like he never did. I wasn't sure I was ready to try to make that love happen, to let anyone in. I sure as hell wasn't ready to be a sugar-momma to a sheltered pastor's kid. The sex was amazing, and we'd just gotten started, that much was true. I had a feeling if I stayed with Tre, he'd learn to rock my world in ways I couldn't even imagine right now, especially if that last orgasm was anything to judge by.
But was that enough to base a relationship off of? I knew it wasn't. Dan had done for me what I was doing for Tre, and I recognized this fact for what it was. Dan had taken me away from my pigeonhole of a life and showed me the world. He'd introduced me to sex, to drinking, to drugs, to gambling and traveling, fine wines and expensive clothes, five-star hotels and private jets to secluded island getaways...and through it all, Dan and I had fucked like rabbits.
It had been just that, though, empty, meaningless fucking, and now, comparing it to what I had with Tre, it wasn't even that good. It meant nothing to Dan. I didn't realize that at first, though. I was too young and innocent and honestly blind to the truth to see it. I loved every minute of it, felt worldly and womanly, felt like a seductress, a real Jezebel. Then I started noticing signs of Dan's straying: Lipstick on his collars, come-stains on his boxers that he thought I wouldn't notice, perfume on him I didn't wear. I ignored it, pretended it was fine. That didn't work too long, of course. I eventually caught him in our room, with one hooker sucking his dick, three fingers deep in two more bleach-blond whores. That was the beginning of the end, although it took me a long time to siphon the money I needed.
Tre was silent next to me, not sleeping.
"Tre...I don't even know where to start." I traced the lines of his abs, drifting lower, hoping to distract him; he caught me my hand and pulled it back up. "It's not just sex, I can tell you that much. I don't know what it is, though."
I leaned up on an elbow and looked down at him.
"You want the truth?" He nodded, although I'd meant it rhetorically. "When I first invited you here, I meant it as that...as just sex. I thought you were sexy and I wanted you. I...wanted a distraction. But at some point it started turning into something else. I don't know what, I honestly don't. I care about you. You're a good person, a good man, and I'm so proud of you for standing up to your father. I know how much courage that took."
"Distraction from what?" Tre asked, cutting through to the one thing I'd hoped he miss.
I sighed. "A lot of things."
He took my hand in his, wiggling the diamond ring I still wore. I'd forgotten about that. It wasn't the one Dan had given me; I sold that in New Orleans. It was just a fake hunk of cubic zirconium crap I wore, because married women attracted less attention than a single one. At least, that was the idea. Now I was beginning to think otherwise.
"This?" He said, meaning the ring. "You need distraction from this?"
He thought I was still married, I realized.
"I'm not married, anymore, okay? I left him. That's why I came here, to get away from him."
"So you're divorced?"
"Well, not yet. I had the papers sent to him...to my ex-husband, when I was in Jackson. I have a PO box there. He'll sign and that'll be that."
"If you're not divorced, you're still married." Tre's voice was hard, angry.
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"No, Tre, you don't understand. I left him. I don't love him, he doesn't love me. There never was love between us. It was just...a legal marriage. This ring isn't even his, it's fake." I took off the ring and handed to Tre, who examined it in the light of the moon shining through the window. "I just wore it because I thought I'd be accepted more easily if I was married. I didn't come here looking to meet anyone, and then I saw you, and..."
"Marriage is sacred, Shea. I really believe that. I know we did all this, together, but I thought—you said—I don't know...I thought you were divorced. This is adultery."
"Tre, please listen to me." I sat up all the way, and so did he, turning to face me; I took the ring from him and held it between us. "There are two levels to marriage, okay? There's legal marriage, and emotional marriage. You can be one, without being the other. Do you see what I'm saying? Legal marriage is just a formality, invented by men, by people. It's a tax and property thing, and that's it. Emotional marriage, interpersonal marriage...that's different. That's when two people agree that they love each other and that they want to spend their lives together, sharing everything. It's an agreement, a promise, and a...what's the word the bible uses? A covenant. It's not a legal thing.
"So technically, legally, yes, I'm still married, and this would be adultery in that sense. But in the kind of marriage I believe the Bible means when it talks about adultery...no, I don't believe that's what we're doing."
Tre looked away, staring out the window. He rubbed his temples and got up from the bed, pacing naked over to the window. He was silent a long time, thinking. I gave him the space. It felt like a trivial justification, what I'd just given him, and I think he knew it.
"I don't know, Shea. That seems like an excuse. I mean, I get what you're saying about two kinds of marriage, and I agree, now that I think about it. But I can't help wondering...is it still wrong, even if it's just legal marriage, that doesn't mean anything to either you or your husband, ex-husband, or whatever? And if it's not cheap, meaningless sex, what is it? It's sex outside of marriage, for one thing, and that's still a sin."
The Preacher's Son #2: Unleashed Page 2
