by Jayha Leigh
“How about dinner at my house?”
“How about dinner at my house instead? You bring the dinner.”
“Can’t cook?” he taunted.
“Oh, I can cook; I just cook better out of the kitchen,” she returned. Ka-pow. Take that, her ego chimed in.
“By insisting that we eat at your house you’re depriving me of all of the privileges that I’m due as a dominant male.”
Oh damn, she got so hot envisioning Ianikut dominating her. It took every effort not to moan at that fantasy. “If you were paying attention, you’d realize that I’m leaving idiocy to you. Is that male enough for you?”
“I don’t get to see you in a dress.”
No but keep being such tempting eye candy and you might get to see me out of a dress right before you see stars after I fuck you insensible. “You haven’t earned the right to see me in a dress yet.”
“I don’t get to drive you anywhere.”
“Ianikut, are you serious? Where the hell are you so anxious to drive me that I can’t drive myself?”
Ianikut gently cupped her face and placed a kiss on her temple before whispering in her ear. “To a screaming orgasm, angel moya.”
Upon hearing Ianikut’s declaration the cream overflowed. Oh damn, he was lucky it was broad daylight and she had some home training, else Ianikut would’ve found himself with her fist embedded in his glorious silky mane right before getting a face full of her pussy. It took everything she had to form words when all she wanted to do was have him fuck her so she could scream out her pleasure. “Well be that as it may, you’ll have to wait until later to drive me to that screaming orgasm and until tonight to bring me dinner.”
Chapter Six
Aloha took considerable pains with her appearance, knowing that Ianikut was spending the evening with her on a real date. He was hot ‑‑ even for a Duke fan. Since he had only seen her in various shades of neon, she decided to surprise him and do a lighter neon. In her book, neons were the only colors worthy of her wardrobe. Smiling, she dressed in delicate ivory lingerie and topped it with a sherbet orange v-neck, a matching sarong, and threw on some low-heeled sandals.
Her sense of fairness spurred her to do something nice for Ianikut, since he was providing the dinner. She trekked to Jeanie’s Lounge ‑‑ the official bookstore of the Posse ‑‑ and researched Russian traditions. Spotting a tome detailing the peculiarities of Southerners, she decided it was just what Ianikut needed, even though she planned another gift for the fine ass Russian. He might be a Duke fan and wealthy as all get out, but she wouldn’t treat him with any less respect than she did anyone else. And she damn sure wasn’t about to be one of those women who used a man for his money.
* * * * *
Once again Ianikut was sitting in the driveway of one of the Posse members. At least this time he didn’t have to metaphorically gird his loins ‑‑ as much. Though he was sure Aloha would rag on him, he was reasonably sure that the beautiful woman wouldn’t accidentally kill him, unlike his nemesis Atlanta. Still, he was somewhat edgy because he didn’t want to mess this up. Aloha did something to him ‑‑ without even trying.
Considering that the date was taking place at Aloha’s house and taking into account her penchant for wearing neon, Ianikut decided on his usual attire: dark dress slacks and crisp white collarless shirt. Being a gentleman, he stopped en route to purchase a gift for his reluctant date. He briefly considered stopping by the florist before settling on a toy store where he was confident that he could choose something that wouldn’t require Aloha’s attention to remain alive. Smiling at his selection, he exited his Bentley and walked to the door.
Answering the door, Aloha smiled at Ianikut’s reaction.
“You’re wearing a skirt.”
“I am. And as always, you look impeccable.”
“But of course. Would you expect anything less from a man such as myself?” he joked.
“I’m glad to see that your ego hasn’t suffered any damage. Tonight, you’re impeccably dressed for my benefit, so get over your shock at how cute I am and come feed me. That way you can at the very least live up to the great part of your name.”
Oh, damn. If only she knew the images he had conjured up when she demanded that he feed her. He had a pant full of cock he wanted to feed her ‑‑ all week long. Groaning, he headed for her kitchen before she saw the glow in his eyes and his fangs.
Washing his hands, Ianikut poured her a flute of cranberry juice and shooed her to her play room with an admonition to stay in there until he called her. Softly kissing her temple, he inhaled her womanly scent and traipsed off to her kitchen knowing that she didn’t mind him taking it over as she only had a kitchen because it came with her house.
Ianikut rolled up his sleeves and set the ambiance he was going for. He had pulled out all stops, bringing a tablecloth, china, crystal, and cutlery, and more importantly, dinner. But the piece de resistance was the centerpiece, which consisted of a mixed arrangement of Skittles and roses. Ianikut laughed at the irony that even her favorite candy was borderline neon. Damn, his woman had no tastes for the finer things in life unless they possessed engines or processors. Still, he wanted her anyway.
As uncultured as she was, Aloha was still amazed and appreciative of Ianikut’s efforts. After seating her and brushing her knuckles with his lips, the evening just got better and better. She smiled, eyeing the centerpiece. He had a good eye ‑‑ if one overlooked his penchant for wearing Duke trappings. The food was exquisite from the appetizer down to the dessert. Even the music, which she guessed to be Russian classical, was palatable, although she would’ve chosen something from the Grand Theft Auto San Andreas video game box set.
The conversation was divine. They both possessed kickass debate skills, but they agreed on nothing. Although it wasn’t really a problem because she just wanted to hear him talk, even though his ridiculous positions had her metaphorically rolling her eyes. Regardless of him being wrong about pretty much everything, it was a heady experience. His normal speaking voice sent shivers down her spine but hearing his voice infused with passion tripped every damn one of her spots. She could learn to love him if she wasn’t careful. Would that be such a bad thing, her subconscious inquired?
After sharing the duty of cleaning up their mess, Ianikut and Aloha retreated to her sitting room. Before seating her, Ianikut stilled her progress and brought her flush against his chest. Aloha gasped and then moaned at the intimate contact. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me, her body screamed.
“I must beg your forgiveness,” he whispered.
“For what?” she asked softly, confused because he had been the epitome of a gentleman. Damn him, her pussy exclaimed in frustration.
“I failed to tell you how beautiful you are,” he replied just as softly.
Aloha’s heart stuttered, and she emitted a soft gasp. “You don’t have to be forgiven for that.”
“Yes, I do. A man should always let a woman know that she’s beautiful.”
Aloha knew who and what she was…and what she was not. She knew that she was intelligent as hell, had a great sense of humor, and could’ve been the Madden champion every year had she bothered to enter the tourneys. Consequently, she also knew that she wasn’t good at concealing disgust or boredom, was a certified weirdo, and although attractive, she wasn’t beautiful. She had a smoking hot intellect and a great ass, but that didn’t make her beautiful. “What if she’s not beautiful?” she asked softly.
“All women are beautiful as they are the bearers of life. Sometimes, it just takes seasoned eyes or the right man to see and appreciate a woman’s beauty.”
If Aloha was the weeping type, she would’ve already cried rivers, but she wasn’t, so only a few tears escaped. “Thank you, Ianikut. And if I wasn’t so shallow, I’d tell you something equally beautiful. Since however, I am shallow, I’ll merely say that you’re one fine-ass man ‑‑ and it only takes a glance to see that and a pulse to appreciate it.”
Aloha wasn�
��t surprised that she was physically attracted to Ianikut, but she was surprised to discover that she was mentally and emotionally attracted to the big Russian. In spite of being a Duke alum, Ianikut was sneaking in to the cold spaces in her heart. She decided that now was the perfect time to pull out her surprise. Ordering him to stay put, she prepared tea. Keeping in line with her weird sense of humor, she’d purchased the most absurd set of teacups she could find along with the assortment of teas. She laughed her ass off considering how those cups would look next to what she was sure was a ridiculously expensive tea set from the Lomonosov Porcelain Factory. The cups might not reflect high culture, but she was sure that he would grimace whenever drinking from the neon-colored cups.
* * * * *
Aloha secured a special part in Ianikut’s heart when she walked into the room bearing a tray that held all of the items that were present at any Russian tea party worth its name, including bowls of honey and jam. He would later learn how highly she thought of him when he discovered that not only did she despise both condiments, but the idea of tea fixed any way other than sweet and iced was anathema to a Southerner such as herself. Taking the chair next to Ianikut, Aloha informed him, “This concludes my knowledge of Russian tea parties. Forgive me if I’ve made some hideous faux pas.”
“Angel, even if you made a hideous faux pas, there would be nothing to forgive. The fact that you troubled yourself to do something special for me means more to me than you can know. I would be more than happy to instruct you on any aspect of Russian culture you wish to learn about ‑‑ especially Russian men.”
“I know all about Russian men. I did watch Rocky IV, although your accent isn’t as good as Ivan Drago’s,” she teased. “How about I instruct you on how not to piss off Southern black women?”
“Why Southern black women in particular?”
“Well, I figure with your penchant for pissing people off, if you learn to refrain from pissing off Southern black women, three major bases are covered: women, Black Americans, and Southerners.”
“Thanks.”
“Consider it a life-saving gesture. For some reason the Posse likes you and I have the feeling that they’d be a little put out if someone killed you. I mean Reign would gladly exact revenge in your name, but still, it wouldn’t be as much fun as the drawn out torture we have planned for you.”
“So the Posse likes me, but do you like me?” he whispered.
“Do you like me?”
“I asked you first.”
“Luckily, I’m fluent in man. Answering my question with a question means that you’re intimidated by me.”
“I will not even dignify that with a response.”
“Whatever. Why are you here?”
“Because you’re allowing it.”
“Mmm hmm.” She rolled her eyes.
“I can see that I shall have to convince you.”
“Why bother? Ianikut, you know that I’m attracted to you. You may want to fuck me, but…”
Ianikut wasn’t sure what happened but before she could finish that ridiculous sentence, Aloha was on her back. Growling low in his throat, he admonished her. “There is no may about it, angel. I want you but not just for tonight. I don’t know what kind of men litter your past, but don’t confuse me with any of those fucks. And don’t confuse any of those fucks with men.”
“How can you be so sure they weren’t men?”
“Because if you’d been with a real man, you’d know that your power as a woman rivaled your intellect, and you’d be a lot more arrogant.”
“Oh.”
“I’m a virile man and I’ve had many beautiful women. Every one of them catered to my pleasure. Everything about them was a calculated move to turn me on. Their dress, their gestures, their voice, even the very content of their conversation was chosen to please me. You on the other hand could fucking care less about what pleases me. Yet, I not only want you, but I crave you. I crave you, even though you wear clothes that could cause seizures; even though most of your gestures bespoke your annoyance at something I’ve said or not done; even though your speech is filled with criticisms. Regardless of all that, today, I almost lost control. It took everything I had to let you leave that parking lot without loving you.”
Ianikut looked down at his angel and knew that she was in shock, even though her eyes were closed. He’d heard her gasp midway through his tirade. Her chest heaved from her erratic breathing, her heart beat fast, and she’d gone soft under him. His angel had no idea what she did to him, how much control she had, how crazy she could drive him if she just pushed a little bit. He wanted her and he knew from her response that she wanted him. Still, he wanted, needed, just had to see her want in her eyes.
“Look at me, angel moya,” he instructed.
Ianikut was pleased to see the mix of desire and pleasure in her eyes, but he wasn’t pleased to witness her tears. A woman’s tears moved him as nothing else did. He threw a Carolina dig in order to tone down the heady emotion in the room as he kissed her tears away. “You know there are other shades of blue,” he said while pointedly looking at the décor.
“Yeah, but what’s the point of that? Carolina blue is even one of God’s favorite colors.”
“Being Russian Orthodox, I may not have had the same church experience as you; however, I believe we read from the same book and I don’t recall reading that anywhere in scripture.”
“It’s not in the text. It’s in creation. Notice that the sky is Carolina blue,” she smiled.
Damn, he hated that line about the sky being Carolina blue. Like the line in the movie Coming to America, that was their (Carolina fans) one. “I won’t even dignify that assertion with a response,” he said instead of the snort of disbelief that was on the tip of his tongue.
“Luckily that categorical fact doesn’t need your approval to be true.”
“So beautiful yet so delusional,” he joked as he rolled onto his back and pulled her atop him.
“Ianikut,” she gasped.
“Hush, angel. The floor is too hard for you.”
“We could do something wild and, oh I don’t know, sit on the couch.”
“We could, but I’m already comfortable.”
“The hard floor is comfortable?”
“No, angel moya. Your soft body is.” He distracted her with a question before she decided to voice an objection. “Since you seem to like Russian culture, how did you like the music?”
“It was okay. I’m just glad you didn’t have audio of Dostoyevsky,” she joked. “Although I could stand Tolstoy if it was The Kingdom of God.”
“If you like Tolstoy’s The Kingdom of God then perhaps you should give Dostoyevsky’s Brothers Karamazov a read as it discusses issues of faith.”
“But doesn’t it lose something in the Russian-to-English translation?”
“Hmm, perhaps.”
“Well then perhaps you should read it to me in Russian.”
“Are you fluent in Russian?”
“Not yet, but perhaps one day…” she trailed off.
“It takes years to become fluent in Russian. Many people consider it to be a difficult language.”
“Well then I guess that you’ll have to stick around for a few years.”
“I think I might,” he replied as he pulled her closer. Though he desperately wanted to fuck her, he knew that he had to take his time with her. He contented himself with kisses.
“I didn’t serve you desert,” he said as they came up for air.
“What you’re serving right now is better than any dessert I’ve ever had,” she admitted.
“You must not say such things, angel moya.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
“I know that you speak the truth and if I wasn’t a gentleman, you’d discover yourself stuffed full of hard Russian cock.”
“Oh, goodness. Why do you have to be such a gentlemen right this second?”
Rolling over and gracefully rising to his feet, he dusted himself
off before reaching down and pulling her up. Taking her chin and tilting her face up, he answered, “Because you’re a lady, but don’t pout. When we know each other better, I’ll show you the beast that lurks under the gentleman in me.”
“And I will tame it,” she threw back as she walked him to the door.
He stopped and looked directly in her eyes before responding to her taunt. “Yes, you will tame the beast,” he whispered in between kisses. “And I shall enjoy every second of it.” With a final lingering kiss, he walked out, hoping that she liked the gift that he left. He chuckled, wondering how long it’d take her to discover it.
* * * * *
Other than the time she shared a home with Atlanta, Aloha had pretty much lived by herself since leaving home for college. She filled her life with fun and how could she not, having Atlanta as a best friend. Dividing her time between beating the high score on video games and building up Evil Twins, she didn’t have time to be lonely. It wasn’t unusual for her to go ghost for weeks at a time, and she’d never felt the lack of human company…until now. Until Ianikut. While she might not be filled with two hundred fifty pounds of hot Russian male, she felt his presence in her home. He’d slept on her trampoline. He’d done stuff in her kitchen. His absence left an empty space that only he could fill. She liked her some Ianikut.
Missing him already, she did what she always did when she had stuff to work out in her head. She got her game on. Cutting on her PlayStation 3, she played a quarter of a season of Madden before she was settled enough to chance sleep. Cutting off the lights, she headed for the bedroom and stopped in shock. Ianikut left her more than material for orgasm-inducing fantasy. He left her a gift. Sitting on her bed was a basket with two teddy bears nestled inside. One bear sported a Carolina onesie and the other a Duke onesie. She loved it and decided that right now would be a damn good time to tell him ‑‑ completely oblivious that it was four in the morning.
