by Mia Madison
“We didn’t have sex.” I held my shoes in my hand instead of putting them on. I wasn’t big on fighting, but I certainly wasn’t foolish enough to put on heels while she was confronting me.
“Well then: What happened?” She spoke those words as more of a demand for knowledge than curious inquiry.
I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not at this moment. I needed to get out of here, grab my mother, and get the hell away from this party.
I attempted to walk around her but she blocked me, step-for-step. She refused to let me pass, calling me names and talking shit.
When I finally had enough of her attempts, I decided to crawl across the bed. She jumped on the bed and pushed me down, straddling me. I tossed my shoes and tried to fight against her, but she was quick to pin my arms down with her knees.
“You’re not going anywhere until I get some answers, bitch.”
“Dilayla!” Raquel hissed. “This isn’t necessary!”
“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t necessary to do bitch.” Dilayla hissed back.
“She obviously fell asleep, that’s all.” She turned her head and looked, as if she heard someone looking. She looked back, eyes widened. “He’s coming.”
“Hey Rocky,” I heard Romeo say.
Oh god, Romeo’s coming?
He was going to see me pinned down on top of his bed, with his sister ready to beat me up. This is how I would die.
“Uhm… What’s going on?” He’d re-entered the room. Confusion covered his chiseled expression. We locked eyes, and I felt myself continue to die inside.
I should’ve never come up here, but since I had, I should’ve left immediately.
“We’re in here trying to figure out why she’s sitting here sleeping all in your bed when the party’s downstairs.” Dilayla said pointedly. She pressed her knees into my arms, forcing a groan from me. “You wanna tell us?”
Romeo maintained his poise. We locked eyes one more time before he looked at her. “Get off of her.”
Dilayla swiftly responded no, asserting her right to information when Romeo calmly grabbed her. He managed to get her off me smoothly without allowing her to kick me in the face or assault me in the process.
“Let’s have a chat,” he said, taking her out of the room into the hallway. He and Raquel shared a look, and he disappeared out of view.
Raquel closed the door and walked over.
“Are you okay?” Her eyes were filled with genuine concern. She checked my arms and looked me over.
“Yeah,” I nodded and attempted to compose myself, but felt tears rushing to the surface. This day was full of ups and downs to the point of near-insanity.
“Good.” She sat down and grabbed my hand. “You mind telling me what happened?”
I filled her in on everything, from the conversation Romeo and I had, where I apologized, all the way through to his invitation to come upstairs.
“Actually, it wasn’t an invitation,” I confessed. “He told me I could make it up to him by letting him ‘taste me,’ as he put it.”
Raquel giggled and rolled her eyes in a manner that let me know she knew all too well what Romeo was about. Not in a lewd way, but you know - the kind of way a sister knows their brother, or their best friend’s brother? That way.
“I’m assuming you took him up on it.” She said, another knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Mmmmmmm,” I sighed, feeling my cheeks burn red with embarrassment. “I plead the fifth.”
“Too late for that now, chica. You’ve been cold busted, and almost caught a whooping over it.” She shrugged and cocked an eyebrow. “You might as well tell the truth and shame the Devil.”
I confessed. “It was… amazing. He touched me perfectly and he took his time. But I swear“ — I gestured with my arms, which were now coming back to life — “that’s all that happened. We didn’t have sex. I didn’t even go down on him!”
Raquel nodded. “I know. The room didn’t smell like sex. I don’t think he would have come back down if you guys actually had sex anyway. We’d have caught you in the act.”
Her words were true, but my face burned with shame. I shook my head. “Why is Dilayla so angry then? Did I do something to her?”
“Well, she’s hotheaded,” Raquel answered. “And to be honest, she’s not sure what to think of you because of the whole Alex situation. She’s loyal, and she didn’t know how you would react until you knew what happened with Alex and I.”
“But Alex and Romeo are two different people.”
“Yes, but you just got out of your relationship with Alex. As in, like yesterday. You just met Romeo today. And that’s her older brother. She’s never been a fan of any friends fawning over or being attracted to him.”
I didn’t have any siblings, but I could understand — in a way. This still didn’t clarify why she was so vitriolic.
“Her heart’s in the right place,” Raquel said. “Give her some time to cool off. You get some time to cool off. One day we’ll be laughing at this. All of us.”
Disbelief and nervousness crackled my core and a crazy laugh escaped me. “You think so? That seems highly unlikely given the way things turned out tonight. The only thing I need to make this circus a full-blown act is my mother to have walked in with you guys.”
“Trust me,” Raquel said. “Dilayla’s got a temper on her, and she’s fiercely protective, but there’s a huge part of her anger reserved for Romeo because she told him not to take advantage of you.”
My head jerked at the revelation. “Really?”
Raquel nodded silently. “She made it clear to him that you had just gotten your heart broken. She told him you needed time to heal.”
Damn. Maybe she was looking out for me too, after all.
She lowered her voice conspiratorially, and added, “As you can see, he doesn’t listen.”
We shared a smirk, and I took a deep breath. I reached to the floor and grabbed my shoes. It was getting late, and I hadn’t seen my mother in over an hour. I’m sure she was looking for me. I dreaded going back into the hallway, at least with Dilayla there — but I had to get home and process everything.
Raquel waited for me to adjust myself. I was surprised to see my hair and appearance weren’t badly disheveled from my romp with Romeo. Raquel handed me a makeup wipe and helped me fix my hair.
The hallway was empty when we left. I thanked God for small miracles; the last of my energy was reserved for my mother.
I’d rounded the corner to the party entrance, found my mother, and had gone just past the outside of the hotel’s main entrance when a firm arm grabbed me.
“Where are you going?”
Romeo
Her eyes widened, revealing a mixed gaze of shame and relief. She was confident enough to think I wouldn’t catch her slipping out of my sight.
“My mother and I are heading out,” she finally replied. Her attempt to appear nonplussed failed; her free hand twitched and nearly broke free from her side to adjust that invisible lock of hair she always touched when she was caught off guard.
“Without saying goodnight?” I shared a generous smile with her mother before turning back to her. Those enchanting eyes flashed with an innocent embarrassment.
“Ms. Erika, may I steal her for a moment?”
“Sure.” Her mother smiled at me, and touched Erika’s shoulder. “Let me alert the valet to get the car. I’ll call you when I’m outside.”
She gave a weak smile to her mother. “Okay.”
We looked at each other, wordlessly. It had been almost two hours since I ate her pussy, but I could still taste her sweet flavor on my tongue. She looked deliciously fragile under my gaze, so delectable I fought not to throw her over my shoulder and taste her again.
I licked my lips slightly as I looked her up and down, certain that I was breaking my personal code of professionalism.
“When can I taste you again?”
“Huh?” There was a squeak to her tone, revealing
her anxious state of mind.
“You heard me,” I said, stepping closer to close the space between us. “I asked when I can taste you again?”
Her face, made even more captivating by the smudged look of her eye makeup, reddened from the clarity of my words.
“I see cat’s got your tongue. I admit I may have been a little direct. Let me approach this differently.” I reached forward, grabbed her hand, and kissed it. “When may I see you again? This time for dinner, drinks, and dessert?”
“I really don’t know if we should. Your sister seems to really hate me right now.”
“My sister needs to mind her business.” I was unfazed by Dilayla’s attitude. “She has nothing to do with you and I.”
“But—“
“Beautiful —“ I held up a hand when she attempted to protest. “Let me tell you something. I’m thirty-two. I’m several years older than my sister. I’m also willing to be I’m a lot more established than your ex, or any other man you’ll ever meet.”
I paused to let that sink in.
“What happened today? Those are non-factors. I let my sister know, very clearly, that I invited you to my room. That you were and are my guest, and she had no right to treat you as she did.”
She gasped when I told her I let Dilayla make the choice to apologize or leave immediately.
“See? I don’t want to cause problems between you and her,” she said. “That’s your sister.”
“That she is, but that doesn’t excuse her for crossing personal and physical boundaries. This is a mostly professional event, and an altercation like this could have ended up much worse than it had.”
Her phone must’ve vibrated because she jumped and retrieved it from her clutch. She looked apologetic as she backed away to leave, but I gestured toward the door, suggesting that I’d follow right behind.
The valet held her door open and I bent down to look directly into the vehicle. I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and handed it to her. She looked at me with the sexiest expression - that signature innocence and shock - when I instructed her to put her number in and call. I smiled when I heard her phone vibrate, and took the phone back.
“Don’t answer now. I’m going to leave a message. Listen to it as soon as you get home, okay?”
She blushed and nodded. Ms. Erika smiled a friendly smile. We shared a wave after the valet closed the door and they started to pull off. I put my ear to the phone at the exact minute the voicemail recorder beeped.
“Good evening, beautiful. You just pulled away for the night with your mother, and I just have to tell you: You are the most delicious woman I’ve ever met. From your head to your toes, I could eat you alive.
“More than anything love? … I can’t wait to take you to dinner tomorrow night. I can’t wait to look into those warm brown eyes tomorrow, watch them sparkle with joy, and watch your smile spread all over that pretty face.
“Think of me when you go to bed tonight. Think about the kind of man you’ve wanted. Think about the love you’ve wanted. You can think about the way I made you feel when you let me explore you with my tongue — yeah, I want you to think about all of that too — but most of all, think of me as the reason nobody else ever worked out.
I’m going to be thinking about you until I see you tomorrow night. 8 PM. I’m not asking you. I’m taking control, and I’m telling you: You’re mine tomorrow.
Now do me a favor. Text me now with a pink heart to let me know you’ve heard and acknowledged everything I’ve said.
Goodnight beautiful.”
I turned and bumped right into Leslie. Her expression was sweet, but I could see the sadness in her eyes.
“I see you guys made up.” Her tone was casual, but the question was obvious.
“You can say that.”
“She’s gorgeous.” Leslie was mellow, but her voice hinted at the heartbreak lingering inside. I realized that by befriending her, and inviting her, I might have given her the wrong impression.
“As are you,” I said, respectfully. Grabbing her hand and squeezing it, I suggested we go back inside. “I want you to meet someone,” I added, thinking of my cousin Marc. He had a thing for gorgeous natural women, and he’d been staring at her every time she’d turned her head. He was young, rich, and handsome like myself, just horribly tongue-tied.
His eyes lit up when he saw me heading his way with her. I winked, letting him know to stay put. I’d handle the introduction, create rapport, and disappear. Marc would be everything Leslie thought she’d found in me, leaving me open to focus on Beverly.
Beverly
I tossed and turned all night. My dreams were filled with yearning for Romeo. Every scene was one where he’d wooed, seduced, or made love to me in some way.
I woke up heartbroken. I wanted to stay in that elusive world, one where it was just the two of us. Where other factors — or people — weren’t involved.
Of course, my mother loved Romeo. Not only was he handsome, he welcomed her with open arms and showed the utmost respect in front of her. She didn’t question what he wanted, and she didn’t ask what he said on the voicemail. She simply beamed an auspicious smile during breakfast, and hummed along to music as she cooked.
When I finally pulled myself out of bed, I’d already given myself two orgasms, strictly by replaying the events of last night - the good ones, before Dilayla and I got into it.
Romeo tasted me with such passion and pleasure, I literally melted under his tongue. He licked me until I came not once, but twice, cleaned me, soothed me, and left me in the calmest state I’d ever been in.
He pampered me freely. No request for reciprocation. No trick attempt to serve penis.
After breakfast, I spent the morning going through my closet. Tonight, we were going on a real date. A real first date. I had no idea where we were going, and I had no idea what to wear. I just knew I had to look absolutely stunning, especially since he’d given me a second chance after yesterday.
Don’t fuck this up Beverly.
I tried to think. After twenty-four hours with that man, I’d learned he liked the finer things in life. He would definitely spoil me by taking me somewhere special.
He’d already seen me in aquamarine, but I decided to play it casual with something luxurious and creme. The dress looked amazing, but once I remembered food had a tendency to plaster itself on anything creme-colored, I switched to a red dress with sparkling ruby red crystal heels.
Satisfied with my decision, I set forth for a day of pampering, including a surprise wax appointment.
Nearly twelve hours later, the doorbell rang. My palms threatened to sweat, but I refused to let my nerves show. I took a deep breath and opened the door slowly.
Romeo’s eyes rolled over the curves of my body in approval. “You look stunning, beautiful.”
He held another bouquet of flowers, along with a teddy bear.
“Another bouquet?” I asked. I started to say, “You shouldn’t have,” but I realized that would be ungrateful. Mom always lectured that you need to let a man demonstrate himself to you, especially in the beginning. It was a good way for you to see how interested he is.
Alex never purchased flowers. After the first month we were together, he almost never did more than text and come over. We only went out when I complained.
“These are lovely,” I said. “Thank you.”
Mom wasn’t home, so I placed them in water and set the bear on the counter until I returned.
We drove to A Fish Called Avalon, a popular seafood restaurant in Miami Beach. Our conversation was a lot more relaxed and interactive, a striking contrast to the failed lunch the day before.
After our appetizers, the conversation dulled a little. The quiet made me slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps we ran out of things to talk about?
“So, tell me about you?” I asked, before biting into a crab cake.
He gave me a measured look. “I’m 32. I’m a Pisces. I’m business-minded, passionate, and focused.”
“I’m an investor.”
“How long?”
“Most of my adult life.”
“You must be really successful.” I blushed in admiration. Alex had a basic job. He wasn’t completely sure what it was he wanted to do with his life. He just knew he wanted to party and make money.
“I’m very successful.” His gaze intensified. My heart beat rapidly in response. I felt my nipples spring to life from the eye contact we shared. “You know why?”
“Why?” I whispered, feeling myself melt from his attention. Images of his strong hands grabbing my thighs as he tasted me filled my mind again. I gripped my knife and cut deliberately into my crab cake to ground myself.
“Because I know what I want, I know what it takes to get what I want, and I read people well, so I know how to make someone want to give me what I want.”
I swallowed, feeling bashful yet still very much turned on by his words.
“Oh, I forgot to mention.” He slid his tongue across his lips as he looked at me, making me feel sexy, targeted, and helpless. “I play for keeps and I don’t lose.”
There was a seductive declaration in what he’d said. Did he have to say things the way he did? I was getting so wet it was embarrassing. I adjusted myself in my seat, hoping my arousal wasn’t obvious by the sudden redness of my cheeks.
“What do I need to know about you, Miss Beverly?” He asked. “Besides the fact that you love hard, have a temper, and taste delicious?”
His eyes were clouded with desire, however, he was fully composed.
“I’m a Cancer. I go to school for business administration, but I’m passionate about makeup, so cosmetology school might be next. I live with my mother. My father lives in New York. He’s Italian. He’s where my temper comes from.”
“Are you single?” He asked in a casual, nonplussed manner.
I took a breath. “Yes. I am single.”
“Do you see yourself having kids someday?”
“You get right to the point, don’t you?”
