by Kara Hart
9
DAHLIA
J en failed the test. I picked her up that day after work and she gave me the news. Apparently she was even given an extra twenty minutes to complete it and she failed to answer the last four problems. It was a multiple choice test and she didn’t even guess the ones she didn’t know. She’s starting to worry me. I love her so much, but maybe the bad times with Cade really did mess with her.
“I don’t think I want to go to school anymore, Mom,” she sighed, staring out the window. It wasn’t her fault. Not one bit. It’s not like I raised her right. I was shit at being a mother and I would be the first to admit it. I looked at her through the rearview window. She was practically on the verge of tears.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. We all make mistakes. It’s just a test. We’ll study harder the next time.” I tried to lighten the blow a little bit. I knew how hard it was to be shunned by teachers. I dropped out of high school because of it. Well, that, and a slew of other bad mistakes. I just prayed she wouldn’t follow in my footsteps. It was my biggest fear.
“Everyone else did well. Traci said I was just stupid. She told me I’m from a stupid family, so it makes sense I would fail.” She was holding herself back from crying. A six-year-old, holding herself back from the pits of despair. It was killing me.
“Who said that? Traci? Traci Johnston?” I pulled off to the side and slammed on my breaks. That fucking bitch! I thought to myself. Traci Johnston was the daughter of Cheryl Johnston, a stuck-up cheerleader, turned Monroe real estate agent. I only knew her history because she talked about it so much at the PTA meetings. She was the absolute worst and I just knew her daughter would grow up to be awful.
“Yes, Mom. She tells me that stuff all of the time. Is she right? Are we stupid?” Jen asked.
“Honey, there’s one thing I want you to know. We are not a stupid family. We are a strong, courageous, and beautiful family. And we can do anything we put our minds to,” I said.
“Anything?” she repeated.
“Anything. Honey, don’t worry about Traci. Everyone knows she is the stupid one.” She smiled at me and I gave her a wink back. Maybe it wasn’t the best plan to trash talk her classmates, but bullies deserved some sort of retaliation. That’s not what I wanted to teach her, but this time I’d let it slide. Plus, I was pretty sure I was telling her the truth. Traci, from Monroe, wasn’t going to do better than my daughter.
I was about to put the car in drive and go, when I saw him in the distance, walking away from the grocery store with some bags in his hand. His hand was wrapped in white cloth that looked like a bandage. I drove up next to him and came to a slow stop, rolling down my window. “You know, I’ve never seen someone injure their hand so many times,” I said.
He looked up quickly and gave a half-smile. “Yeah, well people rub me the wrong way sometimes. Anyway, it’s the same injury. Must’ve messed it up making dinner last night or something,” he said.
“Dinner? You? I was almost positive you got all your sustenance from the café?” I laughed, suddenly feeling a strange sensation. Carmelo’s image flashed in my mind. What was up with him? Now was my time to find out.
“I’m actually an excellent chef. Bet you didn’t know that,” he said, smoothing out his jacket. “I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Like a date.” He pressed his lips together and eyed me up and down. I shook my head, half-disgusted by his constant stream of chauvinistic comments, while also strangely feeling intrigued by him. Him? A chef? A friend in high school once told me if a man can cook, he can surely eat pussy. Not sure why that popped in my head, but it instantly made me blush and look away.
I felt light headed by the thought of him below my steering wheel. “I’ll have to pass,” I said, maintaining my saltiness for the man. I had to ground myself. I had to remember that this guy was most likely trouble.
“Yeah? You’re probably right in passing on the opportunity. I’m sure you guys are all set with the box dinners you’ve been making.” He walked up to the window and leaned against it. Smug as hell.
“I can cook actually.” I rolled my eyes.
Jen was excited someone new had entered our lives. She didn’t care who he was or how he looked, or even if he was bad or good. She just knew he was a fresh face in a stale town. “Yeah! She cooked macaroni and cheese last night,” she said.
Lucas leaned in the window to look at her and kissed his finger. “Ah, cheprecca!” He exclaimed with a smile on his face. What that word meant, I hadn’t a clue, but it caused Jen to laugh uncontrollably. “Was it delicious? Was it everything you dreamed of?” He snuck a glance at me.
“Yes! Macaroni is my favorite!” She exclaimed.
“Personally, I like a good meatball, drenched in meat sauce.” He shrugged. “How’ve you been Jen?” he asked her. I put the car in park as he chatted with my daughter.
“We have to go, Jen.” I interjected, but Jen wasn’t having it. In reality, she was the boss. If she wanted to stay, she got to stay. She made an angry noise and shook her head fast and hard. I leaned my head back, annoyed I had even stopped for this man.
“I failed my test,” she sighed. “And my whole class hates me. I don’t think I like school very much.” She looked out the window.
Lucas rubbed his chin. “Hm. Well, I guess you’ll have to beat everyone next time then, right? That doesn’t seem too hard. What subject was the test on?” Oh God. Was he really doing this right now?
“Math class. I hate subtracting!”
“Subtraction? Shit, I can teach you all about that,” he said. I smacked his arm at the word shit.
“No you can’t!” she exclaimed. “No one can. They’re too hard.”
“I’ll tell you what. How about we go back to your place and we study up. Then, when we’re done, we can reward ourselves with an ice cream sundae or banana split!” He was practically leaning his whole body against me now to look at Jen. Was he really schmoozing my daughter to get into my house? Oddly enough, I didn’t find myself protesting. It wasn’t that I wanted him to come over or anything. If he could really help my daughter with school, I couldn’t put my foot down. I mean, this was my daughter’s future we were talking about.
“An ice cream sundae?!” She squealed. “Mom! Can I? Please, please, please?”
“I don’t know…” I mumbled.
Lucas looked at me and smirked. “Aw, come on, Mom. Jen wants a huge ice cream sundae.” I looked into the rearview mirror and Jen looked as if she was having the biggest dilemma of her life. She needed that ice cream sundae. Of course I had to give in.
“Fine.” I sighed. “You need the address?”
“I’d be lyin’ if I didn’t say I need a ride. Car needs some more work done to it, I guess,” he said. I nodded for him to get in the front seat. He jogged around the car and jumped in.
“Thanks, babe. Can’t wait for our date tonight.” He smiled and ran his hand through his hair, putting on his pair of sunglasses.
“Don’t you dare start with that. You’re helping out my daughter. That’s it. Got it?” I put the car back into drive and headed in the direction of my home. He seemed safe enough. I mean, would a criminal offer to help a first grader with their math homework? It was like he said when I first met him. He was from the streets of Detroit. Here I was, acting all high and mighty when in all actuality he was really just a nice guy. I was starting to think Carmelo was going senile or something.
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted me and winked at Jen, who had already taken a liking to him.
We pulled onto Loraine Avenue, our little neighborhood. It was a quaint neighborhood, like those in the movies, and I felt real lucky I got a chance to rent a house there. Back in Seattle, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment infested with rats. But because no one in their right mind would move to a small town like Monroe, it was much cheaper to live here.
“Nice house,” he muttered. “You should see mine sometime.”
“I’m good.” I parked the car in the drive
way and got out of the car. Within seconds, Lucas was already helping Jen out, even with the groceries in his hand
“Up we go!” He said, picking her up and setting her gently on the ground. For a guy who was made in the streets, he surprisingly had a way with children.
I gave a guttural throat noise of annoyance and walked inside the house. “Get that homework out, girl! We’re about to learn all about subtraction.”
“You don’t know anything about math, do you?” I whispered to him.
“I know a little,” He winked. Jen got out her math book and turned to Chapter 4: Subtraction and we both dove in.
It was actually nice to have a man around the house for once. Usually, it was just me struggling to keep up with all I had to do in the day. All the wives in Monroe had devoted husbands, set with good incomes and nice homes, and they all stayed home with the kids. Well I had none of that. I had a job, responsibilities, and on top of it all, I was trying to be a good mother to Jen.
We leaned over her books together and figured out each formula in different creative ways. Lucas had his way of seeing things and I had mine. Of course, Jen had her way as well. It didn’t take long to figure out where she went wrong on her test. And by the end of her studying, she completely grasped the material. It was amazing.
“Now for the best part. Dinner and ice cream sundaes!” He announced.
“You always buy ice cream and fudge?” I asked him, laughing slightly.
“Hell yeah, baby. Don’t you?” He looked bewildered, as if he was wondering how I could ask such a question. He then turned to Jen. She was looking happier than she had been for a while. “Jen, honey. Why don't you watch some TV in the family room while your mom and I cook?”
“Okay!” she said, skipping into the other room.
“I didn't know you liked children.” I grabbed some pots and pans as he got out the ingredients for lasagna.
“What, I don't look like the kind of guy who's good with kids?” he asked me. He started by boiling some salted water and preparing the ground beef. He threw a little garlic, oregano, and black pepper onto the meat and stepped back as it started to heat up.
“I don't know. I guess I shouldn't judge. It's not like I'm good with them,” I said, pouring myself a glass of apple juice.
“Toss the juice. I have some red wine,” he said, eying me sipping out of the cup. “By the way, I don't know what you're talking about. But from the looks of it, you're a great mother.” He flipped the meat with the spatula as it started to simmer. I felt my stomach start to move with hunger.
“Thanks, but I don't drink. I'm okay at it, I guess. It's just hard being a single mom sometimes. I'm starting to think Jen needs a little more out of life and I can't give it to her,” I said, now downing the juice as if it were wine. I could use a good drink, right now, I thought to myself.
“Kids always need more out of life. Sometimes it’s up to them to make it happen. You used to have a problem with alcohol or something?” His jacket was off now, revealing a tight white undershirt that practically pushed against the rivets of his muscles. He rolled up the sleeves to the shoulders and, in a bowl, he began mixing the cheese and eggs. I wasn't sure if I was salivating because of the food or because of him. None of this is what I need right now.
“I used to have a lot of problems. Now my only problem is you,” I said, turning to wash my hands. When I turned around, I noticed him staring at my ass.
“Not gonna happen, buddy,” I said, although I couldn't help but think of him underneath me as I pressed my flesh against his warm lips. Everything about him was infuriating and I found my blood boiling to an uncomfortable level. Anger pushed through my veins and I wanted him to pin me against the fridge. I wanted him to ride me to the point of exertion. I wanted to lay against his chest and feel him pumping inside of me, until he couldn't hold on any longer. I wanted to…
“Taste this.” He moaned, holding a large spoon in front of my face. I hesitated and he pushed it even closer. “C’mon, it's good. I promise.”
I slowly opened my mouth and honestly tried my hardest not to think about his - what I imagined to be - huge cock sliding against my tongue. The sauce delighted my tastebuds, the best tasting sauce I'd had in a long time.
“Wow,” I said, surprised by his expertise. “You sure you weren't ever a chef?”
“I know it's not like gourmet or anything, but it's my ma’s recipe. Straight from the homeland. Can't get better than that, right?” He smiled and even though he wasn’t flexing, his arms were at least three times the size of mine.
“Seriously, I'm impressed.” I found myself saying. Keep it together, Dahlia. Your daughter is in the other room.
“Wait until you try the cheese, darlin’,” he said with a fake southern accent.
“Really? Darlin’? I think that's about all the cheese I need for today, thank you very much.” I laughed, but he already dipped his finger into it and held it in the air for me.
“Ew! I'm not going to lick that off your finger. Are you crazy?” I backed away from the guy, pushing his hand away from my face.
“It was worth a try,” he muttered, licking the creamy cheese off his fingers. “Here's a spoon. For the Queen.” I frowned as he scooped a little into a spoon for me to try.
I took a bite and of course I loved it. The man was good with his hands. I couldn't argue with that.
It’s not long before he’s compiling the lasagna right before my very eyes, like some pro chef. He popped it into the oven and clapped his hands loudly. “Damn, I’m hungry.”
“So,” I began, “is this how you woo all the ladies? You cook delicious meals for them and hope they swoon?”
He laughed loudly, the kind of laugh that resonated through to my bones. It was a laugh of strength and confidence. “Is it working?” he asked, dropping the spoon on the floor.
“Shit. Sorry, I'll get that,” he said, falling to his knees. He grabbed the spoon that was next to my feet and looked up at me.
“How's the view?” I asked, putting my hand on my hip.
“I wish you could see what I'm seeing right now.” He smirked. All of a sudden, the kitchen got very quiet. In the other room was Jen, watching cartoons and keeping to herself.
He placed his hand on my thigh and pushed himself up from the ground. And there he was again, right up against me, that massive tower of muscle and brawn. “I forgot tell you how cute you look today,” he whispered.
I gulped. My heart pounded against my chest as he gazed into my eyes. His pupils darted back and forth, ultimately deciding which part of my body he wanted more. Take it all. I wanted to whisper. Whatever you want. It's yours. But I couldn't speak. I just stood still.
“I've been thinking about you all week. When I went to visit my family, I couldn't get you out of my head.” His hand moved to my neck. The way he touched me was unlike any other man. He was sweet, yet protective. He was the kind of man women dreamed about, but didn't really think existed.
“Maybe you're going insane. Maybe you’re schizophrenic,” I smiled.
“I probably am. But before I get sent away to the looney bin, I need to taste every bit of you.”
“Every bit?” I found myself leaning against the kitchen sink. As I leaned back, he pushed forward against me.
“Every. Last. Drop.” He moaned. I found myself quivering and closing my eyes, anticipating him.
He pressed his lips against mine and suddenly it was like our tongues were warring against each other. His right hand cupped my ass, moving underneath me. He pushed upward against my clit and if it weren't for my jeans, he would have been massaging against my pussy, feeling every last drop against his fingers.
He flipped me around so that he was against the sink and I was against him. My thigh was wrapped around his waist and I could just feel his rock hard cock throbbing underneath his dress pants. “We can't do this,” I whispered, sliding my tongue from his mouth.
“You going to put up a fight?” He moaned, pressin
g his knee between mine. I slowly rubbed against it, closing my eyes while breathing heavily. Fuck! Why did he have to be so hot?
“Maybe I will. If I have to, I will.” I whispered, making sure Jen couldn't hear hear us.
“Good. I like a woman who takes control,” he said, kissing my neck. Waves of pleasure shot throughout my body. I was so powerless now. I couldn't just let him get away with this. Oh, who was I kidding? I wanted this.
“Fuck.” I moaned as he cupped my breasts in his massive hands.
“I wanted that pasta,” he said. “But I think I'm going to have you for dinner instead.” He dropped to his knees and unbuttoned my jeans. Slowly but surely, the zipper came undone. I looked down to find him unzipping his own pants. In his hand was his cock, and, Jesus, it was more than enough for one woman. He spit in his hand and started stroking himself. Everything about this was so wrong. Then why did I want it so bad? His mouth was licking and kissing my navel down to my pelvis, down to my…
Oh god, he was eating me slow and pressing hard with the tip of his tongue. He pulled back on my lips and circled my clit. He was even kissing and licking the top curves of my thighs. Soon enough, he had me up on that sink. My legs were wrapped around his face, while his hand was cupping my tits, pulling lightly on my nipples.
He picked me up and set me down on the floor. I instantly threw my body on all fours. He was stroking his thick and girthy rod, smacking my ass with it as he ran his hand down my back. “I'm going to give you a night you'll be sure to remember, honey.
He rubbed his glistening head over my lips and clit. “Stop teasing me and fuck me,” I moaned. “Give it to me rough,” I said. He threw his belt over my neck and held me in place. Then, he entered me.
The feeling was almost too much for me at first. It had been so long since I had been with a man, let alone a man as big as him. “Fuck. You're a lot tighter than I thought,” he moaned, pushing himself deeper inside of me.
He was slow and gentle at first, but it wasn't long before he was thrusting against me. “God, I've wanted this since I met you,” I whispered. “Choke me.’ His face looked surprised, but he did what I asked. He pulled back on his belt and rode me like a fucking stallion, like he was my master.
