“Because of who my family was, their standing in the community, their reputation, having a pregnant, unmarried daughter was a blight on the family name. I can’t blame them though. I did then, trust me, but I was in no position to take care of a baby.”
The first tear fell on Felicia’s cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. She’d cried so many tears privately; shamefully. This time, if the tears were to fall, at least she wasn’t alone.
Felicia wasn’t the only one tearing up, so was Samantha and Ivory and Trinity. The older girls just looked shocked and mortified.
“Abortion was out of the question. I couldn’t bring myself to do that despite the cost. Even after I told you dad about my horrible, horrible mistake, he chose to forgive me, to make me an honorable woman. But my family still insisted the baby be given up. A pregnant bride was still a smite to everything they taught me.”
“How’d she find us?”
It was Felicity. She studied her mother, her father, and her new-found sister. It was disturbing how much Samantha actually favored some of her other sisters, even though Cecil was not her father.
“So, she’s a half-sister, is that right,” Daphne asked. Others who were thinking it nodded their heads in agreement.
“But a sister nonetheless,” Cecil chimed in, much to all their surprise.
“How can you say that,” Emery challenged.
Their eyes met. She tried to find the familiar, and it was there. But just as he had been in the past Cecil stood with his wife. He needed his children to be understanding.
“Because, she is as much your mother as you girls are,” Cecil affirmed. “Her father may be different, but the essence of your mother courses through her veins just like yours. I know this is a surprise and may be hard to accept, but Samantha is family.”
When Cecil crossed the room, landing next to Samantha, every eye in the room trailed him. He extended his hand. Samantha looked into Cecil’s eyes; trying to read him as Emery did. There was not the same history there for Samantha as her sisters, but when she searched him, Samantha found kindness. Trembling, she extended her hand to meet his. There was a stabbing pain that struck Emery square in the chest; enough to make her pull slightly back and try to shake it off.
“This is not a subtraction from who we are as a family,” Cecil said. “This can be a wonderful addition, if you let it.”
Chapter Three
“We’re supposed to be celebrating, Emery.”
Emery did her best to distance her thoughts from her parents’ revelation a week earlier, but what they shared troubled her in a way she wasn’t sure she fully understood. Kennedy had always been Emery’s saving grace when her mind and her heart were not on one accord. Although she could understand her parents wanting them to know about Samantha, Emery didn’t think they understood how troubling her presence could be to what they each understood as family. Emery hated to admit it, but her mom diminished in her eyes that day. She appreciated her father’s loyalty but didn’t understand why he wasn’t angrier or didn’t say anything about how he processed what happened back then and now. Troubling…
Emery wanted to set a good example for her younger sisters, be the bigger woman, try to get to know Samantha and show understanding with regards to her parents. But Emery was struggling. She wasn’t exactly sure why. Her head said, be the example, be the big sister they all looked up to and trusted. Emery’s heart? It was saying something else. Emery couldn’t bring herself to tell Kennedy what she was thinking. Kennedy was far more optimistic about this new sister thing and was doing her best to celebrate Emery’s landmark victory that seemed like oh so long ago. Kennedy wanted to celebrate with champagne. It wasn’t doing it for Emery. She needed something stronger; something to number the emotional pain.
“Bartender,” Emery said, waving her hand to get his attention. When he arrived, she placed her order.
“Bring me your finest scotch top shelf.”
“Yes ma’am,” the bartender responded with a smile.
“Since when did you start drinking scotch,” Kennedy asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Since, a long time ago,” Emery replied; nudging her sister shoulder to shoulder. Kennedy was Emery’s best friend. When you had as many sisters’ as the Moore girls, friends were built in.
“Well, let’s get this party started then,” Kennedy chimed, grateful to finally see the resemblance of a smile on her sister’s face. Kennedy worried about Emery. She wasn’t good at expressing emotions. And Kennedy missed Emery desperately when she was away. She was glad to have her back and was willing to be Emery’s sounding board whenever she decided to open up. Kennedy had her own feelings about Samantha, but they weren’t nearly as pervasive as Emery’s. They just weren’t built the same when it came to dealing with stuff like this. Kennedy was willing to try and understand all sides of the story and reserve judgment. But for now, she would keep drinking champagne, letting her sister drink the hard stuff, and calling Uber if necessary to make sure they both got home safe.
When the bottle arrived, the bartender turned up a new glass for the patron and poured the first shot. Emery reached up and tilted his hand; filling the shot glass to the rim.
“Run a tab and leave the bottle,” she mumbled.
“You got it,” the bartender said.
“Here’s to kicking ass in the courtroom,” Kennedy suggested, lifting her glass and waiting for her sister to do the same.
“Cheers!”
Kennedy drank delicately while Emery tossed back the shot in two hefty gulps. The hard liquor burned as it descended into her belly and she winced from the bite of the first taste. That quickly passed as Emery turned up the bottle again and poured another shot.
“No toast this time,” Kennedy asked, preparing to lift her glass in celebration.
“Sure,” Emery replied; beginning to feel the first effects of champagne with a scotch back.
“Here’s to kicking Attorney Evan Stanton Esquire’s ass all over that courtroom!”
The clink of the glasses was so quick, Kennedy barely felt it before Emery tossed back the contents of her glass. She set the glass down hard on the bar and enjoyed the heat as it moved through her. Emery was starting to feel better. Sure, it was liquor induced but considering how’d she’d been feeling over the past week, this was better than nothing.
Bigelow’s in the Westin Hotel, was one of Atlanta’s premiere night spots. The club was architecturally beautiful, and all the pretty people made it their business to hang at Bigelow’s. Kennedy and Emery were no exception and when the house DJ cranked up the tunes to get the club moving, Emery was ready for the dance floor.
“Woohoo,” she exclaimed, rocking to the beat and swinging her hips in the chair.
“Dance with me, sister,” Emery said, grabbing Kennedy by the hand and lifting Kennedy off the barstool before she had a chance to decline.
“Emery! You know I can’t dance,” Kennedy called over the music. But her sister didn’t care. Emery carved out space for her and Kennedy and held her sister’s hand as she helped Kennedy find her rhythm.
“Yes, Ken, you got it,” Emery encouraged as the bass beat moved through the dance floor. Before long, both girls were moving to the vibes in the club, smiling and laughing and letting go. It felt good too; to not overthink, over consider, worry, fret, contemplate, or any of those things that clogged up the mind. Kennedy kept a watchful eye on Emery without crowding her space. She was glad to see her sister enjoying herself. It had been far too long; even before the Samantha thing. The DJ changed it up and dropped a slow jam. A collective ‘AAA’ permeated the crowd. Those with someone stayed and locked into a slow drag, while those unaccompanied, prepared to exit the dance floor.
Kennedy was walking in front of her and the two sisters were headed back to the bar when someone stopped Emery from leaving. The touch to the waist was intense but gentle. When emery turned around to decline, she paused. Even in the dim and moving lights, that million-watt smile was un
deniable.
“Dance with me.”
Whether it was the alcohol or deep seeded desire, Emery agreed; following Evan onto the dancefloor. His hand never left her waist, and he turned her into him with one motion. Evan’s body swayed, and Emery’s followed. It was effortless the syncopation they found. He wrapped his second arm around Emery’s waist, pulling her in even closer. Now, there was no distance between the two. Lacing her fingers behind his neck, Emery leaned in; smelling his masculine scent; relishing in how it tantalized her senses, lulling her into him at the same time. She could feel the firm of Evan’s chest as they rocked rhythmically. The thickness of his thighs was undeniable as they undulated to the beat.
When Kennedy turned around and fond Emery wasn’t there, she panicked in the beginning. She searched the area around her and spotted her sister dancing, but this time not alone.
Damn he fine, Kennedy thought, settling back in at the bar. Emery seemed to be okay; actually, enjoying herself. That’s all Kennedy wanted for her.
One song drifted into another and the two remained locked into a seductive tango. Just like in the courtroom, all evidence of other people faded to the backdrop as Emery succumbed under Evan’s powerful spell.
“Celebrating?” Evan’s mouth grazed Emery’s ear and she shuttered. Emery didn’t care if he noticed her body’s reaction to him.
“Something like that,” she cooed in his ear. Evan didn’t care if Emery felt his reaction; and she did, pressed firmly against her thighs. The inferno blazing between the two heated to an even higher level. It became harder and harder for Evan to refrain from his carnal desires. Emery ground her hips into him and Evan leaned in; arching her back and lifting her as he rose. Emery’s light pant excited him. The way Evan held her was exhilarating. Emery didn’t want that feeling to end.
Releasing the hold she had on his neck, Emery pulled back as they continued to glide; just enough to look into Evan’s eyes. She believed the eyes were the window to the soul, and she wanted to know what his soul said. Their collective movement stopped as their eyes connected. Evan held her with his gaze. His eyes were dark and brooding, but they didn’t make Emery feel unsafe or unwelcomed. Evan’s gaze was just as intense as his touch. She couldn’t pull her eyes away, and Emery didn’t want to.
“Shall we?” Evan asked.
“Dance?”
“No,” Evan moaned, leaning into her ear again.
“Yes…”
A smile Emery didn’t see, eased across his lips as Evan turned Emery walking closely behind her until they reached the edge of the dancefloor. As he moved in front of her, Emery placed her palm on Evan’s chest and gained his eyes.
“Hold on,” she mouthed. He nodded and watched as she sauntered to the bar.
Kennedy saw her approaching. A smirk invaded Kennedy’s face by the time Emery reached her.
“Uhnnn, you nasty,” Kennedy teasingly sang.
“I hate to leave you, Emery sighed.
“Girl please, Kennedy rebuffed. She pulled her sister close so no one else could hear. “You need to get your groove on, chile. You’re looong overdue.”
“You make me sick,” Emery replied as she hugged her sister around the neck. “Get home safe and text me when you do, okay?”
“I will, and congratulations, sis,” Kennedy replied. “Which yo – “
“Uh uhn,” Kennedy threw up a finger and warned.
The Moore girls exchanged a smile and a wink which was there code for I love you. Evan watched as Emery returned to him. Her eyes smoldered, and her lips were pouty. The sway in Emery’s hips made it hard for Evan to focus on her face. There was no need to exchange words. Taking her by the hand, Evan led her out of the club. She followed, willingly.
The car ride was tense; a highly sexually tense twenty minutes that only served to amplify the erotic lure between the two. Evan opted not to turn on the radio, preferring the silence that allowed him to fantasize about the woman sitting next to him, and give Emery a chance to do the same. Emery appreciated the quiet. She also appreciated that neither of them felt it necessary to fill up the space with empty words. She gazed out of the window, watching downtown Atlanta fade into stretches of green and the suburbs. That surprised Emery. She was sure Evan was a downtown loft kind of guy. Turning from the window, Emery regarded Evan. The darkness of his skin enticed her. It was like velvety chocolate. His neatly tapered beard and trimmed mustache accentuated the strength in his jaw and his beautiful full lips.
When he smiled, feeling her eyes taking him in, Emery found herself smiling, too. And then her face flushed, and Emery turned back towards the window. There was a quick inhale as she felt pressure and heat on her thigh. He was touching her there. It warmed her from the inside. By the time they pulled up to the gated property, Emery’s breathing was ragged, near panting. Evan eased the silver, BMW 700 series into the circular drive and automated the garage door from the overhead panel. They both watched as the door opened. Evan drove the car inside, put it in park and turned off the ignition. Before the door could close behind them, Evan’s hand moved from Emery’s thigh to the base of her chin. Turning her head slowly in the shadowy headlights, Evan closed the distance between them, then stopped just short of their lips touching.
The sexual magnetism was almost heart stopping. Just as the headlights dimmed and darkness pervaded the garage, Evan eased away and opened the driver’s side door, casting new light into the space. With a smile, Evan lifted himself from the car seat and exited the vehicle. When his door closed, the internal car light started to dim. Before Emery was cast into complete darkness again he was there opening her car door. Extending his hand, Evan assisted Emery in exiting the vehicle. Stepping out, Evan pulled her up to him and once again, leaned in, eradicating any distance between them. Emery’s eyes trailed from Evan’s eyes to his lips and back to his eyes again. When he exhaled, she felt his breath caress her skin. Evan traced her face with a light touch of the hand, and then their lips met for the first time.
It was a slow, deliberate kiss that seared straight to Evan’s loins and titillated Emery’s feminine proclivities. The shared passion could no longer be constrained as the kiss seared. Their tongues danced; intertwining and exploring. When Evan gently bit Emery on her bottom lip, her knees did go soft. He was there to catch her, pinning her firmly against the car as his lips left passionate kisses from her mouth, down her neck to her collarbone. The moan that escaped Emery’s lips fueled Evan.
He closed the passenger door behind her. As the darkness fell, Evan took Emery by the hand and led her into the house. They both panted, the kinetic energy that surged between the two of them was too much to contain. Evan whirled Emery around, and she landed against the kitchen wall. It was hard enough to sting but not painful enough to hurt. She gasped, and he covered her mouth with his, languishing Emery with heated kisses.
“Evan,” she moaned. It drove Evan and his mouth moved nibbling and sucking down her neck and to Emery’s pert breasts. Her swollen nipples pressed against her lacy bra. When Evan’s mouth covered her pert nipple, sucking through the lace, Emery whimpered. She needed him undressed and proceeded to unbutton his shirts, practically popping the buttons. Evan followed Emery, lifting her blouse over her head and dropping her bra straps from her delicate shoulders.
“Emery,” he groaned, taking her plump breasts into both hands; licking and sucking her areolas, sending waves of euphoria through her. Emery felt her wanton folds contract and release with desire. Reaching down, Emery fumbled with Evan’s belt. The electric charges coursing through her made it difficult to focus long enough to undo his belt. But Emery knew she wanted everything Evan had to offer. Evan reached down and unfastened his belt. Together, Evan’s pants and boxers were pushed down off his hips. Emery’s eyes followed the strength of his chest the definition in his abs and the tapering of his waist down to his throbbing, thick manhood. New moisture formed between her thighs as Evan lifted her skirt over her sexy curves and then traced Emery’s thighs
with his fingers. Evan removed Emery’s lace panties with ease, and she stepped out of them; her four-inch black stilettos remaining.
Evan’s eyes moved across Emery’s body; absorbing every inch of her, appreciating her dimensions. When Evan reached around and cupped Emery’s full ass, she squealed. Effortlessly, he lifted her, bracing Emery’s back against the wall and moved under her. Slightly bending his knees, Evan’s thickness found Emery’s welcoming folds. Slowly, Evan moved inside her. He wanted to feel her walls enveloping him. Hot, sticky wetness greeted him, and the walls of her jewel pulsed against his dick.
“Oh my God,” Emery breathlessly exhaled.
Just like on the dance floor, the two fell into a perfect rhythm. With every thrust of his manliness, Emery was lifted. She felt his thighs hard and tense, elevating her as Evan plunged deeper into her puss. The tempo of their entanglement increased. Emery held on tightly to Evan’s neck as his dick found her pearl and filled her to capacity. Her hips gyrated in response to his thrusts, sending Evan’s mind and body whirling.
“Emery, baby, yes,” he moaned as they moved as one. His sculpted chest rose and fell as the thrusts from his manhood filled Emery’s wanton womb. The slow, sensual grind brought Emery to a fulfilling climax, as he left impassioned kisses down her neck. His climax mounted, and he screamed her name.
“Emery!” His jagged breathing fueled Emery’s passion. She took his breath away. The mahogany of his skin, the musculature of his chest, moving down to his tapered waist, made it easy for Emery to get lost with him and to let go of all inhibition. The syncopation between the two ebbed and flowed, riding the wave of orgasm until there was nothing left. Emery collapsed into him as Evan gently lowered her to the floor. Their heavy breathing began to level off. His chest rose, her chest fell, until their breathing became regular again.
I Am Moore Page 3
