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Love's Inconvenient Truth

Page 38

by Love Belvin


  “You’re absolutely gorgeous. Don’t think anything less for even a second,” he warned awakening me from my trance. “I sent for these to butter you up for my special request.”

  Request?

  “Here we go again. What now?” I asked calmly, or at least I’d hoped. “And don’t ask me to up the butt plug because I’m not ready for that.”

  Jackson introduced the sex toy after I’d leaped off the bed when he accidentally poked me there again while trying to enter me during a moment of furious passion. I cussed his ass out sideways and included a few adolescent jokes, though they didn’t feel effective coming out because I had no confusion about Jackson’s manhood. It was just easy and convenient in the moment. Since then, he’d been exploring that part of my anatomy. And for some pathetic reason, I let him. I was all in when it came to sex with Jackson. He was caring, knowledgeable, worshipful, communicative, explorative and downright fun when it came to sex. And the way he cared for me before, during and after… I’d often forget who was the senior between the two of us.

  What’s he proposing now?

  “Candice and I would like for you to spend Christmas with us.”

  I snorted, finding the idea so comical I broke out into laughter. “Valerie would burn down the house! Are you two nuts?”

  Sans the humor I was bursting with, Jackson quietly informed, “It would mean a great deal to have you with us, in our home.”

  “And do what…roast chestnuts on the open fire with Valerie? Or serve you and Stephanie warmed eggnog while you finally propose to her? I don’t think so, mister,” I ended on a scoff.

  Jackson sat back in his seat. “You still don’t trust me,” he murmured.

  “You’re damn right! Let’s not act like you’re the most forthcoming, Jackson.”

  “About what?”

  “About who you want to settle down with: Stephanie or Ashley for starters. And how about where you are every Sunday morning for starters?”

  His entire frame steeled at that. I felt a wave of guilt immediately. Jackson and I may have been exclusive lovers, but we were not husband and wife. He owed me no more than he was willing to share.

  Feeling like shit, I muttered, “That was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

  Jackson looked away as he informed, “Elle, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to discern how fucked up my family is. Yeah, there’s worse, but the annual decline makes me forget that fact. No matter how much further my mother brings herself into the throes of alcoholism, she’s still my mother…still my responsibility. No matter how disconnected I am from my baby sister, she’s still mine to care for.” He exhaled, emotions clearly painfully unfurling at this topic. “Magreen and Stephanie help because they give her the ability to front a semblance of family. God knows Candice and I alone aren’t enough reason for her to realize she has the real thing.”

  “Jackson—”

  “Candice doesn’t want to spend Christmas at home. She’s making plans to be with a girlfriend and her family…strangers. The only thing that’ll change her mind is if you agree to come. She was adamant about this.”

  “Your mother doesn’t want me in her home. I don’t know if it’s because of her catching us or because—”

  “Because she’s miserable. She’s not always been this way. It’s just my dad…” I watched Jackson’s fists ball with fury. He let go of a deep breath. “Elle, if you come, I’ll make it worth your time. I don’t care if you ask me to dress up as Santa…I’ll dye my damn beard snow white.”

  We both chuckled at the visual. That’s when I noticed he was without it today, just as striking as he was with it.

  I caressed the side of his face. With twitching lips, I informed, “I don’t think you can grow a beard in less than two weeks.”

  “Damn!” he sighed. “That was a good plea though, right?”

  We laughed again. And that was the thing: our chemistry outside of the bedroom had become more fluid. We laughed together a lot, finished each other’s sentences during meetings, ordered food for one another in the others’ absence and had even gotten together a few times without sex on the agenda. This thing had become easy and frightening all at once. A telltale sign was not having received a fairy tale book in weeks. That was our thing: we’d be intimate, I’d clam up, he’d send a botchily illustrated fairy tale book to remind me of his understanding of my fears and we’d be okay until our next excursion. And now with no books and an invitation for Christmas, things were turning a terrible corner.

  “Fine. I’ll come.”

  “Huhn? I mean, really?” Jackson appeared as stunned as I felt.

  What the hell are you doing, Elle?

  “Just sex right?” I made sure to align my eyes with his. “There’s nothing more happening between us, right?”

  Jackson’s mouth moved without words before he gushed, “Absolutely. Candice needs this. She’ll be happy to know you’re coming.”

  Eyeing him intently with grave doubt, I nodded my assent.

  And I did spend Christmas with Jackson and Candice less than two weeks later. It began smoothly because all was expected. There was a chipper Candice, a pensive Jackson, a severely observant Stephanie, a cool Magreen, trying to keep everything copacetic, and finally an invariably disgruntled Valerie. We made it through dinner without incident. Afterwards we exchanged gifts in the artfully decorated formal living room. If I shut off the awkward energy of the dwellers of the room, I would be caught in a fairy tale of aesthetics.

  Opening up gifts was an exciting spectacle that I incongruously found fun. Candice started with gifting me a canvas Coach wallet covered in the signature C monogram. Note to self: kindly explain to Candice that I don’t do Coach. I actually detested the designer. But the gesture warmed me, allowing me to effortlessly play off my snobbishness. In exchange, I gave her a diamond encrusted cross on a subtle white gold chain. More than I could share with Candice, that cross had sentimental value. I may not have been a worshipper over the years, but I still believed in the power of the cross. I believed it protected the helpless and shielded the reckless. Candice was a hybrid of the two, similar to what I used to be. Now, I’m plain ole reckless, but with chronic regret.

  At any rate, Candice’s unveiled giddiness told me she’d had her own fascination with it. She could barely stop twittering to open her next gift from me: a Victoria’s Secret Pink pajama set. I informed her that I brought a matching set for myself thinking it would be fun for our first official sleepover that night—yes, that was the other side to their request: I had to sleep over. Secretly, I was touched by Candice’s adamant invitation for me to spend the holiday with her family. Holidays had always been difficult and lonely for me. I’d always remained in my apartment, online shopping or on my living room floor working out. This year was different and I wanted to make it fun for Candice.

  “Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” she whispered in awe. “Let’s go change into them right now! Please, Elle! These are sooooooo dope!”

  With great hesitance, I drug my body from the couch to meet her request. I was hoping to put on the damn p.j.s in just enough time to sleep and discard them in the morning. I didn’t wear Victoria’s Secret Pink. My ass was too old for the line geared toward teens and young adolescence. I caught Jackson’s snickering as his little sister pulled me out of the room and up the stairs to change.

  We returned right away to continue with the gifts. And in between my “twinning usies” that Candice took countless snaps of to put on Lord knows what social media websites, Stephanie slipped me a gift box. With immense curiosity, I opened it and found a rope necklace made of leather with a silverback heart pendant. The front of the pendant had stripes of bright colors: red, orange, yellow, green, and blue. It was…odd. My eyes roved up to Stephanie.

  She smiled bashfully. “It’s a choker. I made it in my art class a few weeks ago. It made me think of you and how you bring everyone together…totally open and accepting.” She couldn’t help her blush.

  From just beh
ind her, sitting on a foot rest, I could see a bemused…or angry Jackson. I was totally for the peaceable atmosphere so far and didn’t want to break it, so I kindly thanked her and fished my gift to her from under the tree. It was a white pearl ballpoint pen and Silver Night mechanical pencil, both filled with crystals from Swarovski. I thought it was a safe gift pick for an impending physician. She thanked me gracefully as I handed her mother a gift. It was a total body pillow. I’d heard her complain of restless nights from being uncomfortable because of her oxygen equipment. Magreen, too, seemed appreciative of my gesture.

  Then came Valerie…

  When she opened her box of patchwork print cashmere Louis Vuitton shawl, she was expressionless. Everyone in the room seemed to have held their breaths, including me.

  “Thank you, Emma,” she offered tightly.

  “It’s Elle!”

  “Elle!”

  Jackson and Candice corrected concurrently. I was bothered that they were upset. I couldn’t give a damn about Valerie’s wretched ass. She could stew in her shit for all I cared. This was all a ploy for me; something I was good at, which was adjusting myself to be who was needed at the moment. Jackson and Candice wanted a distraction from their failing family for one evening, and that’s what I would provide. I was good at parading underneath a mask for the masses. This was no difficult feat, even with evil Valerie.

  Instead of her correcting herself, Valerie only afforded me fleeting eyes and a courteous nod. There was that. Brushing it off, I presented Jackson with his gifts next. The first was two Monopoly mix CDs. He opened the next box and found Tiffany & Co. monogrammed cufflinks, reminding me of our first “meeting.” The flash darkening of his orbs told me he’d caught the reference. Finally, he opened the last set of gifts and found three silk Kiton handkerchiefs with varying prints. That idea came from the sight of the one he wore the morning he burst through the door of the conference room, prepared to rip Shirez East a new one, when I’d lost my bearings. I’d never been the type of woman incited by violence or virile bravado, but Jackson was undeniably hot that day.

  I found my tongue wetting my lips as I peered down onto him while he slowly uttered his appreciation. I knew he wanted to say more, but couldn’t. And as bad as my body burned for him, I had to conceal that, too.

  “Where’s Elle’s gift, Jax?”

  Candice’s demanding question broke our mutually communicative gazes. I found her standing, expectantly, with her hand clutching her little hip. I didn’t want to put Jackson on the spot. I was really okay not having received anything from him. I was only grateful to have made it into the night without incident. However, I couldn’t come up with a save for him.

  Apparently I didn’t have to.

  “I gave out gifts to my staff yesterday in the office,” Jackson lied.

  “Oh,” Candice shrilled and turned back to her phone, taking selfies now, being sure to include her diamond cross.

  The evening progressed and we ended up playing board games…with the exception of Jackson and Valerie. Jackson didn’t say much and just lolled between his devices and watching us and Valerie often let out nasty grunts when I advanced or won, but they at least remained close and didn’t isolate themselves. And the liquor I entertained myself with forgave it all. It was there that I learned Ms. Magreen was a world class cheat, and a horrible one at Monopoly. It was all good, though. There was a light sprit cast over the room in spite of it all, and for that, I was—again—grateful. Despite myself, I had a good time with their family…even with Stephanie’s eerie gaping.

  When it was time to turn down, against Candice’s sleepy protest, I insisted on helping Helen with cleaning. It wasn’t a lot; I just felt like since it was Christmas she could’ve had just a little help. Plus, I liked Helen. She quelled the feeling of unwelcomeness the woman of the house set for me. Candice decided to turn in. She’s truly an early bird to be so young. It was well after midnight, but still…

  After gathering all the dishes from the kitchen, dining room and living room and washing off tabletops against Helen’s advisement, I went to the guest bedroom prepared for me. The house was huge and I learned the rooms, Valerie, Magreen and Stephanie occupied were on the opposite side from where Jackson, Candice and I were staying. I thought that was weird; Jackson being separated from his “girlfriend,” but didn’t question it because I wanted to be with him before I closed my eyes for the night and wanted no distractions.

  Lucky me, I didn’t have to wait too long. Just minutes after returning to my room and washing up for the evening, I received my summonsing text from Jackson. How a woman my age and with my life experience fatuously got into a situation where I was waiting for the house to turn down so I could sneak into my younger lover’s room just to be with him was beyond me. Yet it thrilled me like nothing else before. After closing the door behind me, I padded up and over to the master suite and pushed the lever down to enter. Once again, I was stunned into beguilement by what awaited me.

  Jackson lay in front of the wood burning fireplace, on a fur throw blanket. Next to him was a brass tray with fresh strawberries, some type of sauce, champagne in an ice bucket and flutes. Behind him, closer to the wall reflecting the glowing flames were gift boxes festively wrapped in Christmas paper. And all of a sudden, I couldn’t decide where to settle my eyes: on the hypnotizing glow, the intriguing gifts or Jackson’s magnetic muscular chest bared to me.

  He waved me over and that’s when time sped up in a blur. Under the fire, he poured me a glass of champagne and even took a sip or two of his own, which was huge considering he didn’t drink. I quivered with excitement as he took his time, feeding me strawberries with a caramel chocolate mixture that tasted delightful. Each time his fingers touched my mouth, just faintly, my pulse leaped and sex contracted with wild expectation. As we ate, he thanked me for attending his family’s dinner and staying over and that simple gesture whetted my craving for him.

  Strangely, he asked me to rid myself of my clothing before we proceeded with the evening. Finally! I feared this would be just a platonic meet for a second. With less hesitance than ever, I doffed my Pink. Yes! He then had me open the larger box fully naked and watched me fumble with it without assistance. I found a blue iris full length mink coat with a thick collar and cuffs. It was the most elegant thing I’d ever seen. Unlike many of my fellow-fashionista’s, I did fur. I didn’t have a collection of it, neither did I care to, but every woman should have at least one authentic piece of fur in her repertoire. Jackson assisted with putting it on. The silk interior swept teasingly against my delicate skin, adding to my agony of anticipation.

  Jackson didn’t stop there, he also gave me a single-tiered diamond rope necklace. I gasped as he fastened it around my neck. His fragrant breath hitting my ear released butterflies in my belly. And when he turned me to face him, just as I was about to speak, he kissed me. It was completely unexpected, but vastly welcomed. His tongue swiped against mine and I dissolved like cotton candy. My heart beat wildly in my chest, air held captive in my lungs and my limbs went out. At Jackson’s kiss, life ceased for a moment in time and my mind floated to celestial realms.

  His magical mouth traveled down my misted frame, suddenly scorching at his touch. The mink fell to the ground, pooling at my feet and I was left wearing only diamonds. Before I knew it, I was back on the floor with chocolate all over me and minutes later, I was as clean as a whistle thanks to Jackson’s masterful mouth, tasting every inch of my frame, sending me adrift. He entered me, drawing an agonized moan from the pits of my belly. As he inched inside, he thanked me for making the day memorable for his sister and enjoyable for him. He affirmed my femininity by reminding me of my beauty and good nature, something I actually believed for the first time in my life. My sex swallowed him in until he was balls deep and rocked me into orbit. It didn’t take long for him to join me.

  Afterward we relaxed, in silence, while watching the flames dance out of harmony and listened to its cackle. I felt drained and invigo
rated all at once lying beneath a fire, wrapped in Jackson. It was even more blissful when he began to nibble on my neck, igniting my internal flame again. Without notice, he entered me from behind and worked me up to my ascension all over again. Once we were done this time, he carried me into the shower where he went down on me, licking me up the shower walls until I collided with a powerful release. Finally, we cleaned off the remnants of our late night desert before slipping between the sheets of his bed. Jackson didn’t give me a moment to settle before gathering me into his hard frame, enclosing me with brazen possession.

  It was a magical…elysian Christmas for me and surprisingly.

  I fought sleep until I could no longer. It was after four in the morning when I regrettably pushed away from Jackson, who used force to keep me beneath him.

  “Jackson, I have to go,” I whispered.

  “Don’t,” he plead with mumbled words. “Just another hour.”

  “No,” I argued. “I can’t keep fighting sleep and don’t want Candice to wake up looking for me and walk into an empty room. I need to sleep.”

  Releasing a deep grunt, Jackson let me go. I tossed on my Pink and tiptoed back down to my appointed room. I closed the door and hit the light.

  “How long was the kid going to keep you hostage?”

  I jumped, hitting my back against the door and swallowed my damn heart. It was Stephanie…in my bed…underneath the bedding.

  I observed her eyes adjusting to the light as she sported a smile, inappropriate to the circumstance.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  Stephanie let the blanket fall to her lap, revealing a silk camisole. She then pushed out of the bed and stood. Her toned copper legs were bare from her only donning a matching red thong. When her palms reached her waist, it finally clicked.

 

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