Taming Mr. Jerkface (The Taming Series Book 1)

by Nia Arthurs

  “Melody, don’t be like that.” He teased.

  I stood firm and when he pressed forward. I ran behind the sofa.

  “I know that look, Spencer Braden. I know that look well,”

  I giggled when Spencer darted right. I darted left.

  Laughingly, I scolded, “No, you know your hands always mess up my ‘do.”

  Spencer didn’t answer; instead he concentrated on matching me step for step as I tried to keep the sofa barrier in place.

  “Spencer!” I insisted, “Don’t even think about it. Spencer! Spencer!”

  Alas, my protestations were in vain. Spencer, tired of the chase, hopped over the sofa and came tumbling off the cushions, landing on his feet. Before I could draw another breath, he placed his hands on my waist and kissed me. I noticed that he respectfully kept his hands out of my hair so when he drew back, I only punched him once.

  “Ouch,” he protested.

  “You doof!” I scolded when we fully broke apart, and then placed one more quick kiss on his lips.

  “Okay, let’s go. I’m starving.”

  He grinned at me, knowing he’d gotten his way.

  The boob.

  “Where are we going?” I laughed. After informing me that we only had five minutes left before arriving at our breakfast destination, Spencer then asked if I trusted him. I did and I told him so. The next thing I knew he was tying a blindfold over my eyes and laughing like a maniac.

  “If I wanted you to know that, I wouldn’t have bothered with the blindfold.” He replied.

  Hmph. “Is this the part where you kill me?” I asked shakily. The possibility was always there.

  “What, no!”

  That’s what all the serial killers say in the movies. I surreptitiously checked that the locks could open just in case.

  “Okay. We’re here.”

  “Can I take this off now?” I indicated the blind fold.

  “Patience, little bird, just a few more minutes.”

  Spencer helped me out of the car and kissed me lightly, chuckling when I reached for him and caught only air.

  “Come on,” he held my hand and led me forward. I heard the sound of birds cackling happily. The ground beneath my feet was soft and springy. We definitely weren’t inside of a building. I felt a soft breeze caress my face and the heated kiss of the sun on my head. Yup, we were definitely outside. I couldn’t hear any other human voices, so maybe this was where Spencer would kill me. At least it sounded like a nice place to die.

  At that moment, he removed the blindfold and I gasped. The field was reminiscent of a Japanese garden. A lazy pond stood a few yards away peppered with lily pads and adorable purple flowers. The trees leaned forward as though straining to bring their gorgeous blooms closer to our attention. The beauty and serenity of the scene caused my breath to hitch. I turned to look at Spencer who, to my amazement, was spreading a blanket under the shade of a sturdy tree.

  “What do you think?” He asked when he’d successful spread the cloth.

  I could barely breathe from the beauty of this place and from the thought that Spencer had done all of this for me.

  “It’s amazing.”

  Spencer grinned, patting the space to his right; he called for me to join him.

  We feasted on sandwiches and fruit salad, spending a leisurely morning in the garden. After the food was gone, Spencer leaned against the tree while I rested my head on his chest. He played with my hair as we talked. With the food settling in my stomach and Spencer’s gentle strokes massaging my scalp, I grew sleepy. The Belizean term for the condition is ‘niggeritis’. The word refers to the laziness one feels after eating a heavy meal. I was just about to fall asleep when Spencer shifted.

  “Tell me a secret.” He said, “Something no else knows.”

  Longing for the contentment of unconsciousness, I answered him with the sole purpose of giving in to my exhaustion, “I peed my bed till I was eleven.”

  Bad move. Spencer’s laughter shook his chest, the jolts disturbed my pillow. “That’s not the kind of secret I meant and you know it.”

  I groaned, “Fine. Fine. Let me think,”

  I searched the archives of my mind. Truly, I shared all my secrets with Mia so almost every possible answer would be forfeit. And then I knew. Slowly I confessed,

  “Um, sometimes I feel like I’m stuck.” Spencer tilted his head and peered at me. I continued. “I was supposed to be at a university right now. All my friends are studying somewhere, getting their education, changing the world. And I mean, I still live with my parents. I work at this job and it’s a good one, but - I don’t know- it feels like I’m not moving in any kind of direction. I’m scared that ten years from now, I’ll still be here. Stuck.”

  I drew away from him. He squinted against the sun as he stared directly into my eyes,

  “I can understand why you feel that way,” Spencer admitted, “But I want you to know that there is nothing stagnant about you, Melody Reyes. Everyone you touch is changed because of it, because of who you are inside. That kind of fire, it doesn’t just burn out. Maybe you are stuck right now. Maybe the world isn’t ready for your touch yet or maybe you aren’t ready for the world but I know one thing,” He tipped my chin up with his finger, “Someday you are going to change this place.”

  His words pierced my self-doubt and when he kissed me, things escalated quickly. If an army of fire-breathing red ants hadn’t invaded our picnic, we could have kept on going for hours.

  Let him go. The order rang through my Spirit again.

  I ignored the instruction, hoping that the Voice would shut up for just a few more hours.

  After breakfast, Spencer informed me that he was taking me to the Los Angeles zoo. The zoo in Belize was unique but small and limited in its animal variety. I was excited to experience the immensity of a United States zoo with exotic animals like giraffes, zebras, and lions. As we strolled through the exhibits, Spencer was a lot more touchy than usual. I didn’t mind exactly, but his antics did garner a few looks. I couldn’t tell if the dirty glances of passersby were due to our different skin colors or our obnoxious PDA.

  At first, it was innocent. Holding hands at the African python exhibit. Pulling me close with his arms resting on my waist at the Flamingo pond. That one I enjoyed. His height cast a shade from the sun. But when he tried to get heavy behind the chimpanzee exhibit, I got annoyed. There was no one around so Spencer dipped in for a kiss. I obliged him, but he didn’t stop even when people were crowding around. I even saw a few kids. I grew uncomfortable.

  “Hey,” I said weakly, because yes, Spencer’s caress felt extremely yummy, “Hey, Spencer, calm down.”

  I managed to put some distance between us. “What has gotten into you?” I asked.

  He groaned and rubbed his face aggressively.

  “I’m sorry,”

  I folded my arms. That wasn’t enough.

  He groaned again, speaking low so that the other tourists wouldn’t overhear, he admitted, “I want you. Okay, Melody? I’m a man, and you’re my girlfriend and I want you.”

  A couple with an adorable baby passed and I tried to smile as if everything was okay, but inside I was horrified. I couldn’t believe that Spencer chose to bring this up now… at a public zoo. I lowered my voice and hissed,

  “Spencer, I told you that I’m not sleeping with you.”

  His jaw firmed, “I know, Melody. Don’t you think I know that?” He paced away then returned to me, “But when you dress like that,” he gestured to my outfit, “and kiss me like that-”

  “Are you accusing me of asking for it?”

  I was waiting for Spencer to say ‘no’, to return to the sweet, patient man I’d known for the last few weeks. This imposter was not my Spencer. But he didn’t say anything. Nothing at all.

  “Spencer,” I defended myself, “this dress is completely modest.” I looked down noting the lack of cleavage and its modest length. “And the kisses, well, you were the one who taught me to do
it like that.”

  “I’m just trying to tell you how I feel.”

  “No, you’re accusing me of being a tease. That’s different.”

  Anger reddened his face, “You don’t know how many cold showers and gym sessions I’ve had to-”

  “Oh, poor Spencer.” I interrupted his whining, “You actually had to exhibit some self-control.”

  He whirled on me. “I have self-control but,”

  “Not with me.” I finished, “Because I’m the naïve little church girl, huh? I’m supposed to be an easy lay. Church girls are the freakiest in bed, right? Or is it because I’m black? You wanted to taste a little brown sugar, Spencer!”

  People were starting to stare. Spencer grabbed my arm and tugged me to a more secluded area of the exhibit. The monkeys chattered loudly, adding to the tension of the moment.

  “That’s not what I said, Melody, and you know it. I’m trying hard not to pressure you.”

  I yanked my arm from his grasp.

  “What do you think this is?”

  His eyes narrowed, “Forget it!” he yelled, “Neither of us is in the right frame of mind to be around each other right now.”

  I couldn’t agree more. With a snort of disgust, I stalked away to find a taxicab. If Spencer wanted casual, non-committed sex, he was in the right place for it.

  But the monkeys could do better.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I was so mad, I could spit nails. Of course, the first place I went when I got back to my apartment was the mini-fridge. The only men I wanted around me right now were Ben & Jerry. The little voice in my head was silent, smug in its victory of being right. Well, I wasn’t ready to admit I was wrong, but I knew that would come eventually. Right now I just wanted to stew.

  I couldn’t believe Spencer stooped to that. I mean, I know guys only want one thing. I get it! It’s all about sex, sex, sex. God made them that way, blah, blah, blah. But I’d made it very clear to Spencer that in the Kingdom we didn’t do things that way. And it wasn’t that Spencer didn’t tempt me. Of course he did. He was as hot as Marie Sharp pepper sauce. But at the back of my mind, I knew handing Spencer my V-card was not something I was ready for. I thought he respected that.

  Until today.

  I don’t think the heavy PDA was the only issue, though that certainly wasn’t necessary. And even the roaming hands were forgivable. But Spencer’s accusation that my behavior was contradictory to my standards well… ugh. That hit home.

  He did have a point.

  My behavior hadn’t exactly been the height of sainthood. Frustrated and confused, I addressed my Father.

  “Hey, I know I called you a douche, but I need your help. You know this guy is the sexiest thing on this planet, right. Of course you do. You made him. So you understand why I did some of the things I did with him. Right?”

  Silence.

  “You sure are chatty today.”

  Nothing. Nada. Zip.

  Exasperated, I tapped the Bible App on my phone and chose a random book and chapter. Surely there was something in Heaven’s constitution that could shed light on this issue. My index finger randomly chose the book of Exodus in the Old Testament. I started reading.

  The text was about Moses, the guy who went to Pharaoh and was like, “yo, my people ain’t your slaves no moh, so we out”. As I was reading, a verse jumped out at me. “The Lord met Moses and was about to kill him.”

  Woah! Scurt!

  Moses and God were tight. Moses only had to ask God for help and baam, God delivered. So why did The Big Man want to kill his homeboy?

  I read on. “But Moses’ wife, Zipporah, took a flint knife and cut off her son’s foreskin and touched Moses feet with it.”

  Gross.

  Circumcision is a Jewish custom where an eight day old baby has his foreskin cut off. Jews who didn’t follow this law committed a huge infraction. Moses was the leader of the Jews and he what… conveniently forgot? It took his foreign wife, who obviously wasn’t as close to God as he was, to stop the disaster. She was so pissed at him; she threw the wiener skin at his feet. Eww. I exited the app.

  “Okay, what was that about?”

  Let him go.

  I huffed.

  “Or what, you’ll kill me?”

  Silence. As expected.

  I thought about the verse I’d read. Moses was God’s BFF, but because he’d messed up, God got ticked at him and wanted to kill him. I got that part. But what was up with the wiener skin tag? I didn’t get the spiritual application of that at all. And thinking about it made me want to gag.

  I got up to return the Ben & Jerry’s to the fridge. My appetite gone.

  I spent the next few hours packing my bags in preparation for my early morning flight the next day and listening to worship music from my phone.

  Select clothes, fold clothes, put them in the suitcase.

  The repetition of the movement and sweet crooning of Israel Houghton, Hillsong, and Anthony Evans calmed me down so that I came to grips with Spencer’s and my earlier conversation. As I folded my last T-shirt, I knew what I had to do.

  First things first, I needed to fish the Oreo bouquet from the trash. I deeply regretted taking my anger out on those innocent cookies. Oreos had done nothing to me. Nothing! As I walked to the kitchen to fish the snacks from the garbage bin (they were wrapped in plastic, don’t judge me), the buzzing of the door grabbed my attention. I half-expected it to be Spencer, but it was just a delivery guy.

  “Are you,” he checked his clipboard, “Melody Reyes?”

  “Yeah,” I said, not sure why this guy was here. I hadn’t ordered anything.

  “Great.” He handed me a long flat box bearing the Je T’adore logo. “Sign here please.” He also passed over the clipboard. I gripped both in my hands, balancing the cardboard box awkwardly and signed my name.

  “Thanks.”

  And with that he was gone. The whole transaction took less than three minutes. Curious, I opened the lid on the box only to find a gorgeous full length evening gown. The dress was black and swept the floor with a graceful sway. The front and back of the dress’s upper torso had an amazingly intricate filigree flower design. Despite being blown away by the quality and feel of the gown, I was still puzzled. Beneath the dress were sparkly earrings and matching bracelet nestled atop a folded note. Whoa, these babies were couture.

  I picked up the folded card, ignoring the fancy jewelry. The neat scrawl was distinctly Spencer’s. I brought the card to my nose and sniffed. That was definitely his cologne. If I’d had any more doubts, the card had his bold signature. I read,

  Dear Melody,

  I apologize profusely for my behavior this

  afternoon. I have no other defense but to say

  that I have lost all my control to you

  I don’t expect you to forgive me,

  but if you would take pity on a jerk-face, I’d love

  for you to join me tonight at 7. The invitation is enclosed.

  Please give me a chance to make it up to you.

  Yours regardless,

  Spencer

  Ps. I hope it fits

  I didn’t want to be affected, but I was touched. No man had ever bought me such an expensive gift before, nor put so much thought into an apology. At first, I felt uncomfortable with the idea of accepting a dress and jewelry from Spencer. That was… until I tried it on. My $200 orange prom dress had nothing on this bonanza. I smoothed the dress over my waist.

  It. Was. Gorgeous.

  Sweet stilettos!

  The only problem was the length, but that could be fixed with a six inch heel. When I actually got into the dress, I decided I couldn’t not go. I’d take this as an opportunity to make a clean swift break to Spencer’s and my connection and call it a day.

  I spent the next few hours straightening my hair, applying makeup and selecting my heels. I gingerly shimmied into the dress, admiring my reflection. I cleaned up good, if I do say so myself. Taking deep breaths, I glance
d at my dolled up self in the mirror.

  “Spencer, I enjoyed getting to know you, but it’s over. It’s over. It’s over.”

  I practiced my speech, praying that when the time came I’d have the courage to actually go through with it.

  I looked at the time. Well, it was now or never.

  The cab dropped me off at the party’s location. I paid and got out. According to the calligraphic invitation, the party would be taking place in the ballroom. I was so nervous, my palms felt like faucets. I could feel my hair frizzing.

  Sweet sling backs.

  I ignored the approving gazes I got from a few men when I waltzed into the building’s lobby.

  Focus. Focus. Focus.

  According to online sources, this difficult conversation was like ripping off a band-aid.

  Short, succinct, and hopefully only temporarily painful.

  I boarded the elevator and when I arrived at the penthouse, I flashed my invitation to the doorman. With a gallant sweep, the uniformed security bid me a good night. I entered and was immediately entrenched in another world. An orchestra played on a raised platform. Glasses tinkled together, creating a foundation for the hum of civilized conversation and subtle flirting. The place was packed, but everyone seemed to know where they were going. I knew instinctively that I did not belong here with these people, in this world.

  Focus. Focus. Focus.

  Where was Spencer?

  I stepped deeper into the throng of people. I could tell this was a gathering of the upper crust. Those of the wealthy class have a certain air about them. Deeper than the smooth lines of botoxed skin and the fragrance of exclusive perfume. It was a sharpness, an aloofness, a demeanor that was undisguisable. Spencer possessed it, but his humility masked the scent. I spotted Peyton about the same time he spotted me. He excused himself from the group he was chatting with and came over.

  “Melody,” he greeted, “you look marvelous.”

  “Thank you.” I responded politely, “Have you seen Spencer?”

  He pulled at his bottom lip in concentration as his gaze skimmed the room.