by Peyton Banks
I go stand behind the chair and massage her shoulders. I already know she responds well to my touch.
“Mmm, that’s exactly what I need, Lucas. A good massage.” Her head falls forward, allowing me to move a little farther down her neck and shoulders. “Mmm,” she moans…again.
This is turning me on, and I try to shift a little to ease my excitement, until she leans her head back and whimpers. Now I’m as hard as the marble countertop. I remove my hands and step back, hoping some of the blood will drain from my dick.
“Why don’t you turn to the side so I can have better access to massage your neck?” I suggest, buying me some time to will my hard-on away.
She follows through with the recommendation, and I go back to having a semi-mini. I apply pressure to the spine part of her neck and work across her shoulders, rubbing one side and then the next.
“Damn, I didn’t realize how tense I was. That feels really good.” She allows her head to fall forward, and I apply a little more pressure.
My full-on arousal returns as I listen to her approval of my fingers relaxing her muscles.
She accidentally brushes against my junk when she raises her head to an upright position. “Ooo, and here I thought you just wanted to give me a massage. Feels like you’re enjoying this too,” she says wittily.
Of course, I enjoy touching her, but it’s not my only reason for inviting her over. She stands and turns towards my direction, her gaze roaming over me, telling me it’s okay, calling to and pleading for me not to pull away. I move the chair and take her mouth with mine. It could be my imagination, but her kisses taste sweeter.
She moans through our action, and I know she wants this moment as much as I do. Her arms snake around my neck, and I place my hands on her hips, walking her towards my bedroom. When we cross the threshold, she begins to undress, and I stop her.
“Simone, I don’t want this to be only a sexual thing, two people sneaking around. I want to make a commitment to you.”
Those may not be the words she wants to hear, but I had to let her know how I feel. I always told myself if given the opportunity, I wouldn’t let her go.
“How? How would we do this? Our parents are getting married in less than twenty-four hours. What, do we sneak around for as long as this works?”
“Is this something you’d want?”
She takes a seat on the chair in my room. “Lucas, I think—no, I know—I’ve always had a liking for you. My drive to be the best at work only to have it overshadowed by you getting the clients I wanted, made it change from like to…”
“Hate?” I interject.
She glares at me. “Disgust. I mean, you walk around the office, and still do, by the way, like you are royalty, the king of account managers. When we let our egos get the best of us instead of forming a super team, neither of us got the software account. But you did get the senior position, and I felt some kind of way.”
“I can call Armstrong right now and turn it down if you want.”
“No, silly. Don’t do that. I realize how bratty I was when I wasn’t selected, and I took it out on you. Hearing my family refer to me as a princess only reminded me how I truly act, and you were right.”
The erection has deflated as the conversation returns to clearing the air. “And now?” I say, taking a seat on the edge of my bed next to her. “What are you feeling?”
She takes a deep breath, grasping my hand into her palms, looking to me with those deep-brown, almond-shaped eyes. “Now I feel something deep for you, especially after this weekend, even though it was spent mainly in the bed.”
“On the couch,” I add.
“The floor,” she retorts.
“Storage room.”
We both giggle when we reminisce about our erotic time together.
I look at her smile, and it warms my insides. The way she bites her lip returns the blood to my formerly deflated dick.
“Anyway, I discovered an attraction to you, and I realize I masked my emotions instead of speaking on them. Partly it was the risk of being rejected, especially with the grapevine saying you were with someone, so I knew then all bets were off. The only other thing was to reverse my feelings.”
“You still didn’t answer the question?”
“What?”
“Is this something you want?”
The quiet reserve that falls on her face lets me know she is thinking about the situation. Not in a how-do-I-let-him-down thought, but weighing the pros and cons.
Instead of letting her wonder any longer, I offer a compromise. “This seems like it would be a major decision for you. I know where I stand, but I don’t want any pressure on you. So how about you come over here and we talk. Any subject you want.”
She wrinkles her nose and smiles. “Like twenty-one questions kinda talk?”
“Sure. I’m game. Are you?”
She takes off her shoes and moves to the head of the bed and beckons me to join her with a few pats on the mattress.
I remove my socks and join her, snatching a pillow to prop behind my head.
She grabs one for comfort but looks at my feet with an awkward glare. “You have surprisingly attractive feet for a guy.”
“Wow, sexist much?”
“I’m serious. Most men lack in the foot care area. Do you get a pedicure?”
“I’m not answering,” I say, shaking my head.
“You have to. It’s my first question.”
“So, you are wanting to lead with that?”
“Yes. Now tell me.” She gently and playfully pushes my arm.
“I do on occasion, but I generally do them myself. A friend taught me how in order to save money.”
“Was it a girl you were seeing?”
“Do I get to ask any questions?”
“Yep. As soon as you answer the one on the floor.”
“No, it wasn’t. Well, not exactly. We went out, but it wasn’t a serious thing. No sex, and no, not even a kiss before you follow up and ask. Now, my turn. When was your last serious romance?”
She yawns and deliberates for a minute.
“Hmm. I would have to say my sophomore year in college.”
With a raised brow, I analyze and do the math in my head. “Simone, that’s almost eight years.”
“Mmhmm. I grew tired of dating. I really wanted to excel in life, not in love. I figured it would find me when it was ready, or I wasn’t meant to have a relationship.”
“That’s a very positive outlook. Wish I had concentrated like you. I dated all through my school years, when I was old enough. Started with the sixth grade dance. But I could never find someone who rivaled me. Until…” Her quiet yet steady breathing catches my attention. I look over and see she has fallen asleep. I remember we were talking after sex Saturday night and she admitted once she gets comfortable, it’s lights out. I pull the blanket over her, and she turns towards me, resting her head on my chest. And at that moment, I know her answer. Now we need to figure out how.
10
The sound of the door closing awakens me, and I realize I fell asleep in Lucas’ bed, clothed and untouched. Last thing I remember is him talking about a middle school dance he attended. It doesn’t take long for me to pass out. Highly intense moments that are diffused by alcohol, sex, or massages render me useless and unconscious.
“Lucas,” I whisper as I push on him slightly. The sight of his bedside clock illuminates three-thirty-six AM. Shit, I think to myself.
“Lucas,” I try again.
This time he stirs and puts his arm across his forehead.
“Someone came in,” I say.
“Probably my dad. Come on, lie back down.” He pats his chest, signaling where he wants me to be.
I wait for a few minutes to see if he will need a more direct nudge.
He soon springs upright. “Fuck, Simone! Uh, uh, I’m sorry. I should’ve taken you home instead of lying with you. Now we gotta sneak you out of here.”
“Yes. This is precisely what I
don’t want to do,” I retort. I grab my sandals, so they don’t make a sound against his hardwood floors. I can’t help but notice his facial expression is a bit saddened. Maybe it’s because we didn’t get to the sex part. Maybe it’s for the best.
“Son, are you still up?” his dad calls from the other side of the door.
I scramble to my feet and hide away in his closet.
“Yeah, Dad. Come on in.”
I cower to the floor amongst all his suits and dress attire neatly hanging on one side and his casual wear on the other. He has two magnificent built-in shoe shelves, one for dress and one for athletic. He even owns a few pairs of very expensive cowboy boots. I turn my attention back to the conversation on the other side of the door, not because I’m nosey, but to make sure there are no cues about opening the closet.
“Why are you up, son?”
“Oh, I um, heard you come in. So, how was the evening?”
“It was good, son. Real good. Rach told me what you did to get her here. I wanted to say thank you, again. Did you and Monie get everything finalized last night? The wedding is in fourteen hours and fifteen minutes.”
“Most of it we got squared away. There’s still an outstanding question I had, and she’s going to look into it.” His voice softens, and I know it has to do with the fact I never answered him.
“Well, that young lady has a great head on her shoulders. Did you know she spends two weekends out of the year renting out hotel suites for girls in a group home and giving them a Princess Party?”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“Son, for you two to work together, you sure know little about each other.”
“Well, we kinda have this not-so-friendly work relationship.”
“Ah, I see. Well, maybe you two should bury the hatchet. Put all the animosity behind you like me and Rachel did when your mother died. It makes out for a better relationship.”
He doesn’t know, but hearing those words makes me realize I’ve been holding on to my fake feelings for too long. Time for me to face the truth about Lucas.
“Goodnight, Dad. See you in a few hours for breakfast,” Lucas says.
The door fastens, and after a few minutes, the closet doors swing open.
“Okay. You have about five minutes to get out before he comes back out of his room.
“How do you know he will?”
“He always undresses then goes to the bathroom before turning in.”
“Oh. Well, I wanted to talk with you for a second. Maybe we can get a few minutes before the ceremony starts.”
“Okay. Let me walk you out.”
We tiptoe down the hall to the living room where he opens the door.
“Well, thank you for dinner and a lovely evening. I’ll text you to let you know I made it home.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Good morning.” I reach up to give him a peck on his cheek, but he turns his head, and our lips meet instead. The kiss is a slow simmer. I drop my purse and rest my hands upon his shoulders. He finds my waist, and his hands apply gentle pressure when he pulls me into his space.
“Son, why are you outside?” his dad calls out.
I dart down the staircase to the first floor, exit the building, and enter my car to head home. I text Lucas when I walk through my front door.
“My, you were out late, missy,” my mom says as she wakes from the couch.
“Mom, why are you on the couch? You should be in your bed.”
“Oh, Charles and I watched a few movies till he went home, and I wanted to wait on my baby. Where were you?”
“I was out with my friends chatting over wine. I should’ve called.”
“No problem, baby. I knew you were okay. You’ve done a lot over the past week and you deserve to relax. Did you and Lucas get all the details worked out?”
“Yes, ma’am. We got the final details done, and the ceremony will be beautiful. No surprises on my watch.”
“I can’t believe you’ve worked with Lucas and never mentioned him during our calls.”
“We don’t exactly have a friendly work relationship. We’re sorta rivals.”
“That explains a lot. You two never spoke about work much or even to each other when we were all together, and you seemed cold to him.”
“True, however, we squashed all the beef between us and buried it for the sake of a new union. And if I don’t get any sleep, I will have circles under my eyes and the makeup artist will have a lot to work out tomorrow. Goodnight, Mother.”
She stands from her sitting position and embraces me in a tight, warm and loving manner. “Good morning, my little princess.”
I saunter off to my room to squeeze in as much sleep as possible.
The florist arrived on schedule as their company promises. Too bad I wasn’t up to greet them. In all my years, I’ve never slept through an alarm until today—the biggest day of my mother’s life, since I was born, of course. I stumble out of bed when my mom yells my name for the umpteenth time, using first, middle, and last name. I struggle to find my way to the bathroom so I can wash my face, brush my teeth, and join in the preparations. When I enter my living room, moms doing her best to direct traffic, but I can tell she’s frustrated.
“Mom, I got it. I’m sorry I overslept.”
“It’s okay, Monie. All that matters is you’re here now, so get busy.” She exits to her room to begin her preparations, and I am left to untangle this mess.
After a few redirects, the flowers are finally getting in place. I hand the florist a walkie-talkie to reach me in case they have questions as they finish the arrangements and setting up the arch for the inside. I borrow two of the florist staff, and we go meet the party rental team on the rooftop for the red-carpet setup we are using to announce the new Mr. and Mrs. and the installation of the makeshift dance floor. Once I have all those jobs going, I redirect my attention to the buffet area which was set up last night and make sure the extra refrigerator is still running. When I open it, the cool air from inside is a welcome change.
“Ahh,” I exhale aloud. I don’t care who hears me. It’s the opening of summer, and I swear we’ve been in it for about three weeks. At eleven AM, it should not be this hot.
“You could go back inside to cool off,” a voice says behind me.
I think it’s a worker being kind—and nosey, mind you—but my eyes widen when I turn to speak.
“Lucas. What are you doing here so early?”
His smile widens, and I realize I’m not dressed or even made up. Not even a little. I fumble with my headscarf and cross my arms in a self-conscious manner.
“Oh, I had to drop off a few things for the refreshments, remember?”
“Oh yeah, the liquor and beer. Thank you again. I totally spaced on that detail.”
He outstretches his hand and allows his fingers to gently brush against my already heated skin, which his touch makes it even hotter. “No problem. You’ve had a crazy week.”
I look at him and smile at his response. I go to speak but the walkie beeps.
“Ms. Greene, we have a small situation and we need your assistance.”
“Okay, I’ll be right in.”
“Simone, do you need me to do the bar setup while I’m here? I have about an hour before I have to go home and get ready.”
“Shit, an hour? Is that where we are on time?”
“Calm down. We have about four hours since it begins at five, but Dad and I are going to the cemetery first, then getting dressed for the ceremony before we go pick up Aunt Rachel.”
“Oh. Okay. Whew, I thought I was horribly off schedule. If you want, you can set it up. The tent covers and misting fans are on their way, so hopefully we’ll have a nice and comfy, yet cool reception.”
He begins to unpack the libations and stock the fridge. “You planned a nice event for such short notice,” he says, continuing to stow away to beverages.
“Well, our parents gave us their want list, and we made sure it happened.” I ch
uckle a bit and then recover. “Anyway, I’ll see you later, I guess. I mean, we are standing as the witnesses.”
“True. See you later, sis.”
“Right back atcha, bro.”
We laugh as I turn away and head back inside to see what fire is simmering with the florist.
4:55 PM
The guests have all arrived and are patiently waiting for the start of the ceremony. Mom and I are being blessed by the pastor before the start of her new life as Mrs. Nina Weathers. Once he completes his prayer, he heads out to the arch where the two will be joined as one. Tears well when I see the happy glow across my mother’s face. Her smile only highlights the twinkle in her light-brown eyes.
She looks to me and holds out her hand. “Come here, Monie.”
I dab the droplets of happiness and take her palm.
“My only wish is you find someone who makes you feel the way Charles makes me feel. I know you don’t want to talk about it, and we’re not, but I wanted to let you know what your father and I had was special. But our fire died out, baby, and I had to move on with my life like he did. It’s not usually how love goes, so don’t be afraid to take chances for fear it will end up like ours did. Okay?” She tilts my face up, her eyes searching for understanding.
“Yes, ma’am.” I pull her into an embrace and fight back the tears threatening to ruin my makeup Sasha spent an hour applying, then touching up in-between photos.
We part, and she smiles when she hears the music signaling our entrance.
“Time to get hitched,” she comments.
We hold hands till we enter the hallway.
“I love you, Mom, and I’m so happy for you.” I place a kiss on her cheek before I take the first step into the living area.
I walk down the small makeshift aisle, peering at the small crowd before us. Faces familiar and not. There is one I see standing beside his dad at the altar. The way that suit hugs his body reminds me of how my legs seemingly melted to his waist. Clinging to every inch of his body as he moved slowly in and out of my pussy. His gray eyes light a path of desire within me when our gazes lock. His smile sends me over the edge, and I nearly stumble approaching my assigned position. Control yourself, missy, I think internally. I clear my throat and turn to see mother walking up to her spot. She and Mr. Weathers join hands, and the beginning starts now.
