Five Years

by Brooklyn Knight

  I sauntered towards him, legs naked and shaking, but that wasn’t enough to stop me. I would be bold because I knew that he wanted this. The look in his smoldering eyes was telling me that much.

  When I reached him, I trailed a haphazard line through his abdominal muscles. His skin rippled under my touch.

  Ticklish.

  I let my hand travel down until I grazed the waistband of his boxer briefs, and then I stopped.

  I dropped to my knees and pressed my face against his jutting cock.

  Maverick jerked and took a fistful of my hair into his hand.

  “What are you doing?” he growled. I barely recognized his voice.

  I didn’t answer, mainly because I wasn’t sure.

  Maverick’s body smelled like his signature, rich cologne mixed with his natural, manly scent. Even his cock smelled delicious.

  I slipped my finger inside the band and touched his rigid, bare skin. The head of his dick was smooth, but the slit on the top, a bead of moisture had collected there.

  I wondered what it tasted like.

  I advanced my mouth towards his member, but his hand tightened around my curls. The sharp gesture made me wince and moan.

  Maverick bent down and stared me in the face.

  My breasts jiggled, nipples pebbling to the point of pain. I wanted to rub my body against his, just to get some relief, but the look in Maverick’s eyes suggested that I wasn’t going to get it.

  “Amaris.” He paused, eyes cloaked with primal lust. “What? Are you doing?” he whispered.

  He wanted me to beg. With the way I was feeling, I would. I didn’t care. “I want you to fuck me, Mav,” I whispered staring into his face. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

  I stood, forcing his hand away from my curls, and I pushed him back onto the couch. His muscular thighs fell open, and that glorious dick stood ready for my claiming. I dropped onto his lap, aiming my tight pussy for his erection, but he took me by the waist and lifted me off him.

  Instantly, he covered his mouth with mine. The kiss was aggressive, almost as if he was fucking my mouth instead of my prize.

  What the hell?

  I ripped away from him. “Fuck me, Maverick!”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  I glared at him. “Are you…” My neck flew back. “Are you kidding?”

  He sighed and reached for me, but I sidestepped him.

  He wasn’t.

  Complete humiliation rained on me as I picked up my t-shirt and covered my breasts. Stinging tears filled my eye sockets until a curtain of moisture was all I could see.

  Maverick strode in my direction.

  I dipped him. “Get out.”

  “I’m not leaving,” he asserted, “not until you let me explain why I don’t want to make love to you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to make love to me! I asked you to fuck me!” I shrieked.

  “Baby…”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?” I demanded of him. “From the moment you saw me, isn’t this what you wanted to do? Isn’t this the reason you’re waiting for five years?”

  “Five years hasn’t arrived,” he shouted back. “Goddamn, Amaris…” He ripped his hands through his hair and lowered his voice. “You don’t get it, do you? Do you think I’m waiting five years just so I can fuck you to sleep? I’m not! I’m waiting because I’m in love with you and I respect you more than you realize. I’m waiting because that’s what your code of ethics requires. I’m waiting because your moral code dictates that you should.”

  I stared at him, eyes and mouth quivering. The shirt slipped down and my titty peeped out. I ripped the garment back up and turned my back to him.

  “I don’t need you to monitor my ethics or my moral dedication, Maverick. I’ve already transgressed them a million times. That’s not your role.”

  “Then what is my role?” he whispered.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it came back. “I don’t know,” I whispered in response.

  Maverick sighed and drew closer. He swept his hand under my disheveled curls and over my neck, then he dropped his mouth to my ear. His skin pressed against mine, and my back arched. My body was overcome with decades of repressed need. I had made myself completely vulnerable to him, and he’d dismissed me. Just like my mama said he would.

  “I love you, Mary,” he whispered against my stinging earlobe. He nibbled it and ran his tongue down the length of my neck. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

  I stiffened, unaffected by his profession. “Get out.” I whispered, voice trembling.

  Maverick froze. “Mary – ”

  “Just leave!” I shrieked.

  He gave me a cold once-over but didn’t say anything. All he did was get dressed and walk out of my house without looking back.

  22

  Amaris

  ~Three Years~

  My doorbell rang.

  I searched for my cell phone in the darkness, knowing it was on the night table. I grabbed it and illuminated the screen.

  11:58 PM.

  The hell?

  I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and ran a hand over my hair. I’d gone to bed at eight o’clock. The entire day had been brutal. Not only had I worked with difficult clients all day, the fact that tomorrow was the thirty-six monthversary played on my mind.

  Not tomorrow. In two minutes.

  I literally hadn’t spoken to Maverick for three months. I’d told him to get out of my apartment and he’d obliged me. That was fine, in that moment, but when he hadn’t called or texted me the next day, or the day after that; or the following week or the one after that, inexplicable rage consumed me.

  ‘Never call a man. The minute you do, he’ll know that he has you under his spell.’

  Those were my mother’s words of wisdom, ringing in my head like a dinnertime bell, but I’d actually ignored her and lowered my standards to message him:

  Can we talk?

  The asshole never responded, and I had no choice but to conclude that my mother was right. And hell, if she was right about that, it meant she was right about everything else too.

  So after a month of not communicating with Maverick, I’d taken my ass to church. My mama had sent a new scripture, and when she called at the end of the month, I’d delivered an entire sermon about its application, complete with scriptural cross references.

  The doorbell rang again.

  I huffed and grabbed my robe from the back of a chair and stomped through the house towards the front door.

  “Who is it?” I called out.

  A beat of silence passed before the response came. “It’s Maverick.”

  I seized with shock.

  What the hell was he doing at my house? The nerve of him to show up here.

  And for what?

  Anything he had to say should have been said when I’d humbled myself and sent him that damn text. I couldn’t imagine what he wanted at – I looked at the clock – 12:05 AM…

  My breath caught.

  “Baby, open the door.”

  Another command, with his cocky ass.

  I stared at the door. Without warning, my pussy tightened, and my breasts grew heavy under the thin robe I’d thrown across my back.

  Goddamn, why was I responding this way? Maverick had already humiliated me beyond measure, shut me down like a two-dollar hoe on the street. I shouldn’t want anything to do with him. I shouldn’t want him!

  Yet, I opened the door.

  Jesus, Lord of Hosts, if this man could have looked any sexier, I had no clue how it would be possible. His red hair was sexily disheveled, and the beginnings of a six o’clock shadow were forming around that full lips.

  His eyes drank me in, and he pushed through the door slamming it behind him.

  “Maverick, you have no right to be here,” I started to say, but his mouth crashing against mine disintegrated the words.

  I received him. Consumed him. Pissed as hell that I was ravenous for him, but too horny to
give a shit.

  He groaned into my throat, thrusting his tongue against mine, then he pulled away and I fell into the space he’d created.

  “Sit over there,” he commanded, even as he took his own seat in an armchair across from the one he’d dedicated to me.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Sit down.”

  I cut my eyes away from him and sank into the chair.

  He eyed me. His dick was as solid as concrete, rising in his joggers like a flag.

  I pulled my eyes away. If there was one thing he’d taught me, it was that it didn’t belong to me, so it made no sense ogling it.

  “Where’s your cell phone?” he growled.

  “What? Why?”

  “Where is it?”

  I sighed, not understanding what the hell he was talking about. Then suddenly it hit me.

  Sexting.

  My lips fell open and my eyes fluttered. “It’s… right here.” I reached into the pocket of my housecoat and pulled it out.

  Maverick’s brown eyes glinted. “Dim the lights and then sit your ass back down.”

  I did as he commanded.

  I heard him exhale, long and hard, and it sent a shiver over my entire body. The cell phone rattled in my shaking hands. Suddenly, it trilled with a text message: Open your robe.

  I gasped.

  Maverick waited.

  I rested my cell phone in my lap and undid the loose belt. Then, I parted the center and my breasts fell out.

  Another sharp intake of breath. From both of us.

  Lick your thumb. Both of them.

  I wet my lips and then rolled my tongue across my thumbs.

  Fuck…

  I sucked them into my mouth and another message came through:

  Baby… roll those fat nipples between your fingers.

  I hesitated, feeling more exposed now than I’d felt when I’d tried to play vixen three months before.

  “Maverick – ”

  “Don’t say anything, just do as I type,” he barked in a low voice.

  I took my nipples between my fingers and rolled them.

  Oh Jesus…

  A moan flew from my lips and I squirmed in the seat.

  Good girl. Pinch them. Hard.

  I did it. Another cry filtered into the room and Maverick’s groan competed for precedence.

  I took the phone in one hand and typed a message of my own:

  Pull out your dick, Mav.

  I saw his grin in the dim lighting. Then I saw his cock. Just like before, it was thick, and long, and beautiful. God, how I wanted to feel it inside of me.

  What now, baby? he typed.

  I chuckled. Stroke it. Like how they do in the movies.

  This made him laugh, but soon, the sound of his mirth was replaced by a low, even hum.

  He stroked and typed: Put a finger in your pussy, baby.

  I released my breast and slid my index and middle fingers inside of my sex. A yelp of pleasure sounded into the room.

  Another one.

  The second one went in. By now, my back was arching off the seat as I twirled my fingers inside of my slick heat.

  Fuck, Amaris…

  Somehow, I typed a message: Stroke your dick faster.

  The sound of his hand manipulating his length boomed in my ears. A deep swell of pressure started to build in my belly and my eyes rolled back.

  “Oohhh, Maverick!”

  That was it.

  An eruption, an explosion of everything burst from the inside of me and I creamed all over myself. My body lurched off the seat and my breasts arched towards the ceiling.

  Maverick groaned and spit out a deep, rasping curse and then all fell silent.

  It took a second for my muscles to relax and that was when I crashed back into the chair.

  My cell phone trilled:

  If you want me to fuck you, know that I will. You'll never have to beg me to do it. Making you come is all I think about. But honoring you, making you happy is more important than anything to me.

  My mouth trembled.

  Do you understand?

  I tapped my fingers on the screen: Yes.

  Come here.

  I sighed and lifted myself from the chair. I walked over to Maverick, but in no way did I exude the sass I’d possessed a few months ago.

  Maverick was still sitting in the seat, thighs spread, dick out and partially erect. His cum glistened in the shadowy light.

  I stood in front of him, waiting for his next request.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered.

  I smiled. “No. Not yet. But… can we do this again? Sexting? I like it.”

  He laughed. “We can do it every night, if that's what you want, baby. Remember, I follow your lead.”

  “That's not entirely true,” I countered, “because if you did, I wouldn't be a virgin right now.”

  He frowned and wiped his residue up with the edge of his shirt. Then he pulled me onto his lap and into a slow, sensual kiss.

  “I love you,” he said against my lips.

  ‘Never tell a man that you love him. He’ll use it against you.’

  I shoved the nagging voice away and said, “I love you, too.”

  He exhaled. “Happy thirty-six monthversary, Mary.” He narrowed his eyes. “Now go and sit your ass back down. I'm ready for round two.”

  Damn, so was I.

  23

  Maverick

  ~Three Years, Six Months~

  Maverick, call me!

  I blinked at the cell phone, staring at the exclamation mark at the end of Amaris’s message. Two things were alarming at that point: the fact that she had messaged me in the middle of the day, and the urgency underlying the three words she’d typed.

  Amaris never messaged me at this hour. It was usually in the evening, whenever she wanted me to come over so I could make her explode, courtesy of a heated live-sexting session.

  Another message came through: If you’re busy, don’t worry about it. I know you had that meeting today and you’re trying to win the bid.

  She was rambling, something she always did when she was stressed.

  Baby, what’s the matter?

  Nothing’s the matter.

  I groaned and started out of my seat. “Gotta take this phone call,” I said holding the phone up for everyone to see. “Give me five.” I didn’t wait for permission.

  I hustled away from the long meeting desk, which was occupied by each of the top-level managers, and scooted into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

  Amaris was sending another message, but I’d had enough of that. I needed to hear her voice, find out first-hand, what the hell was going on.

  “Mary, what’s the matter?” I asked, as soon as she answered, preferring to get to the point.

  “Mav, I thought you were in a meeting.”

  “I’m not anymore. What’s the matter?” I asked again.

  “You didn’t have to leave,” she contested, “it could have waited.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “I’ve been waiting for almost four years, so I should be used to it by now.”

  She laughed.

  “Baby…”

  Amaris sighed. “It’s my mama,” she revealed.

  “She called you again?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re not prepared for your scripture briefing?” I guessed. “Granted, it’s not the end of the month so I’m sure it took you by surprise, but if you were studying it every night, the way you’re supposed to,” I emphasized the word supposed, “she wouldn’t catch you off-guard.”

  Amaris laughed. “You know what? Maybe I would study the scripture every night if you weren’t sexting me and sending dirty pictures.”

  I laughed. “I follow your lead,” I reminded her.

  Of course, she ignored that part. “And by the way, the last thing I need is for you to be taking my mama’s side on this. But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.” She drew a long
breath. “My mama is in town.”

  My neck jerked forward. “What?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “She’s been invited to preach at one of the churches downtown. Not only that, apparently, the Lord told her I was over here in the streets, indulging in an unrighteous existence.”

  Shit!

  “What am I gonna do, Mav? She’s staying at a hotel, but she’s made dinner arrangements and expects me to go to church with her on the weekend! This is what she does,” she complained. “I’m not that little girl anymore, but she treats me like I am. I’m a professional woman, making my own money, with the ability to navigate my way through life.”

  I pinched my nose.

  “She can’t just show up and dictate my comings and goings like this!”

  I stepped into an empty boardroom and closed the door. Then I dropped into a chair and stretched my neck.

  I knew exactly what Amaris was feeling. It was the same way I felt whenever I tried to confront my mother about anything. Even the letter I’d written years ago: I had yet to read it to my mother, let alone challenge her belittling and ever-increasing expectations, though the thought had crossed my mind a million times. Whenever I even entertained the notion, the clouds would pile in and the feeling that the walls of my throat were closing in overtook me.

  “Baby, calm down,” I suggested. That was what I’d tell myself. It rarely worked, but maybe it would for her.

  “I am calm, Mav.”

  “You’re not,” I challenged her, “but that’s okay. We’ll figure this out.” I paused, trying to think of a quick solution. “Tonight, we’ll go to dinner.”

  “We?” she scoffed.

  “What? You don’t want me to go?”

  Amaris sighed. “I don’t know, Mav. I told you how my mama is. Hell, if Jesus had been looking for another disciple, she would have been his primo choice!”

  “I don’t know much about the Bible, but weren’t all the disciples dudes?”

  “Now you’re catching my point!”

  I laughed and she chuckled a little. “Mary, all I’m saying is that I want to be with you in this,” I told her. “In a few months, you’re going to meet my mother, aren’t you?”