Authors: Cydney Michele; Rax Lutishia; Grant Lovely

Crush (6 page)

BOOK: Crush

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Ethel Joy

Ethel Joy’s house was a three-bedroom two-bath ranch on a quiet cul-de-sac in the drama-free town of Barrington. The lawn was immaculately groomed and I could see where she had started switching out the summer flowers for fall color. She swung open the door and grabbed me inside into the hug that I had come to expect and love. It was warm, tight, close, and lengthy. Ethel Joy Lake Henderson Sweatt was a gracious and loving lady. She stood five foot five inches on a trim frame that still wore a petite size four. Her face, still unlined, brought to mind the timeless beauty of a Lena Horne or a Diahann Carroll. Her long silver hair was pulled back in her customary bun. She was dressed in a turquoise-colored camp shirt over a long, chocolate-colored broomstick skirt belted at the waist with a silver belt. She had silver ballet slippers on her feet. Ethel Joy might have been well on her way to eighty years of age but she was still fly. “No need to let yourself go on your way to the other side. Might as well show up on Gabriel’s doorstep in style,” she always said.

Suddenly she kissed my cheek and moved me behind her as her eyes landed on Jason. “Now, who is this tall, handsome man you have brought with you? Girl, got this good-looking man on the doorstep waiting. Know I taught you better than this. Come on in, sweetie.”

Jason’s eyes went into full twinkle as he stepped forward. “My name is Jason, I’m a friend of Jayla’s. These are for you, ma’am.”

Ethel Joy twinkled back as she accepted the huge arrangement from him. “You can call me Ethel Joy and come on in.”

“Well, let me get your groceries out of the car and I’ll be happy to do that, Ethel Joy.”

The minute his back was turned Grammy turned to confront me. “Oh girl, I could cut a step right here! Tell me everything: where did you meet him, what’s his story, and can I read something into the fact that you brought him to see me?”

I rolled my eyes. I should’ve known having Jason with me would cause a stir. I’d never brought a man to her house. If pressed, I couldn’t say why I decided to bring this one. But he was here now so I had to explain. “No need to dance, I met him at a coffee shop, he’s an entrepreneur from Oak Park, and he offered to drive me so I let him. Don’t get any ideas and don’t grill the man.”

“Dear God, he’s a handsome one, isn’t he?” Ethel Joy placed her bouquet on a side table and was peering out of her front window. “Ooh, look at him just leaning forward into that fancy car. Um, um, um. If I were thirty years younger . . .”

“You’d still be a cradle robber. Please don’t let him catch you gawking, Grammy.”

“I beg your pardon. I do not gawk, young lady. I appreciate a well-formed masculine specimen. Oak Park, you say? He comes from money?”

“Bucketfuls.”

“Does anything good with it?”

“Owns a string of coffee shops and a whole bunch of other stuff if his Lincoln Park home is any indication.”

“Well, don’t hate the man for being beautiful and loaded. He’s got a nice spirit about him.”

“Funny, that’s what he said about me. My spirit ‘calls out to him.’ ”

Tears welled up in Grammy’s eyes. “Did he? Did he say that? Those exact words?”

Alarmed, I walked over to her. “Yes, Grammy, why? What’s wrong?”

She patted my arm. “Nothing, baby; that’s real good. That makes Grammy happy. You go help that young man and I’ll check on dinner.”

“Grammy, you didn’t have to cook. I keep telling you that. How are you feeling this week?”

“Little girl, I am fine. I sent that meddling LuAnn home for the weekend, I’m feeling so fine. Now go help your man.” LuAnn was the full-time companion/nurse I had hired when Grammy first contracted lupus. She was in remission now, but I kept LuAnn on more to be a friend and a watchful eye than anything else. They alternately bickered and loved each other like family.

I had to clarify. “He’s not my man and what am I paying LuAnn for if you keep sending her off?”

“Don’t fuss, baby.” She smiled a secret smile and headed into her kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and turned toward the door just as Jason was coming in.

“So did I pass?” Jason whispered as he juggled the bags.

I took three of the bags out of his hands and whispered back. “You know you did with your charming self.”

“I aim to please, ma’am. I will take that as a compliment coming from you.” He kissed my forehead and walked past me toward the kitchen. “Ms. Ethel Joy, what is that heavenly smell coming from this kitchen?”

My grandmother giggled, a girlish sound I hadn’t heard since before her last husband passed away. If for nothing else he had done this weekend, I would always think fondly of Jason for producing that happy sound out of my Grammy.

From that moment on, the evening was a lovefest between Jason and Ethel Joy. I was the fascinated bystander watching the two of them fall under each other’s spell. I worked on my lemon pound cake while the two of them danced around each other at the stove. Grammy’s face when Jason tied on an apron and offered to help was priceless.

Grammy had made a roast with potatoes and carrots. Jason sautéed a mix of greens with onions and spices. Grammy gave him the side-eye as he was cooking but when he handed her the spoon to taste, her face lit up.

“Baby, did you know he could cook, too?”

“Yes, Grammy. I know he can cook.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you, now? Well, Jason, do you know that my baby can cook circles around me?”

Jason raised a brow and looked at me. “No, ma’am, I was not aware that she possessed that particular skill.” I looked at him, blinking innocently.

Her eyes cut from him to me and back again. “Um-hmm. Jayla, you don’t have to beat that batter to death. Put the cake in the oven and then go see why I can’t get my e-mail to come up on that machine you insisted I have.”

Leave Grammy alone with Jason? Where they could exchange all manner of information? Not likely. “Um, Grammy don’t you need—”

“Girl, you heard me the first time.”

I sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” I poured the batter into the cake mold and walked over toward the double oven. I was close enough to Jason to whisper and have him hear me. “You behave out here, Mr. Jericho.”

“Or what?” he said teasingly.

“You do not want to find out. You remember, I’m a hood chick. I’m tougher than I look.”

“Bring it on, girlie.”

I closed the oven door, set the timer, and turned to see Grammy giving me “the look.” Feeling twelve years old all over again, I walked over and kissed her cheek. “You love me, Grammy.” I walked across the living room to her little home office.

As I booted up her system I heard her start in. “Now, young man, my Jayla is a special girl.”

“Grammy!” I called out, mortified.

“Mind your business, young lady,” she called back.

“Yes, ma’am. That is the exact word I used to describe her to my best friend. She’s special.”

He did? I strained to hear more of their conversation.

“Well, then, you’re as smart as I think you are. Now, her parents were never worth a damn. It always shamed me that I raised a daughter as flighty and useless as her mother, but I’ve given that situation up to God. When Janet left Jayla with me, I felt like I’d been given a chance to do it right. And I did. That girl is a product of me getting it right the second time around. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am, I believe I do.”

“Her father was little better than a pretty sperm donor and only turns up nowadays when he needs a loan or to pretend he has a paternal gene in his body.”

Jason didn’t say anything and I felt myself getting a little misty.

“I don’t know all the details, but the last few boys she’s messed around with ain’t been a bit of good either. What I’m saying is . . . my girl is due some goodness. Someone real and someone who sticks. Is that you, or are you just a pretty face?”

“Ma’am, I stick. Given the opportunity, once I’m in. I stay.”

“You sound like you’ve been around a block or two yourself.”

“At least once or twice, Ethel Joy.”

“Well, all right then, nothing wrong with a little life experience. Helps you recognize landmarks on life’s little highways. Now, let’s get some food on the table. You do set tables?”

“Like a pro.”

“Baby, you can stop straining your ears and come get the napkins.”

I dried my eyes with a Kleenex. There was no one like my Grammy. “Yes, ma’am, on my way.”

Sunday

Sunday night Jason and I were just getting back from Ethel Joy’s. She talked us into staying the night (in separate rooms, of course) and going to church with her in the morning. We had brunch, took her to the movies, and played Scrabble. I couldn’t remember the last time I had enjoyed myself that well. Great company, great conversation, great food, and all without the spectre of having to be in the office at the crack of dawn the next day.

It was the most relaxed I had been in months, maybe even years. But by the time Jason and I got on the road and headed back to Wicker Park, the sexual tension between us had blossomed again. Stronger than ever.

You could ask me under oath to recount how we got from the parking garage around the corner to the bed inside my condo, but I could not tell you with any sort of clarity. What I can say is within thirty seconds of entering my home, we were both naked. Less than one minute later, my back hit the mattress and Jason was protected and inside of me . . . hot, hard, and deep. He swelled inside of me for a perfect, snug fit.

“Yes,” I hissed under my breath. He gave me exactly what I needed exactly when I needed it. No preliminaries, no foreplay this time, just that scorching friction and fullness scraping those sensitive nerve endings. Testing the both of us, I squeezed my internal muscles on his next upstroke.

He grabbed my hips and tilted them upward. “Oh, you want to play?” He ground down on me, hitting my G-spot from the inside and my pearl of pleasure on the outside. Circling his hips out, he slid down and repeated the motion, lifting my hips with the next stroke.

I strained my hips upward and circled tightly in the opposite direction, still squeezing him from the inside. My wetness was everywhere, running down my thighs and his, scenting the air.

“You
do
want to play,” he gritted out and slid a finger in between us to press teasing flicks against me.

Not even a full stroke later, I started convulsing. “Jason!”

“God, baby—you are so hot, so responsive, don’t close your eyes. I want to watch, I want to see.” He slowed his strokes to draw out my climax as he rode me gently, rhythmically.

My eyelids rose slowly and I met his gaze, allowing him to see the helpless passion exploding, the satiation flowing through me. My flagrant satisfaction triggered his response, and with a low groan, he began to come. Our eyes stayed locked on each other as we shuddered through to completion. The moment was electrical, sensual, and very intimate, especially for two people who were strangers three weeks ago.

Startled by the unsettling feeling of rightness, I snapped my eyes closed and turned my head to the side. I was unnerved. I felt exposed and vulnerable, not like myself. Breathing deeply, I struggled to come to terms with the events of the night and the whole weekend. It had been quite the ride. In more ways than one.

Jason rolled off me and lay on his back beside me. We both rested silently, staring at the ceiling. After a moment, he shifted onto his side and ran a finger down the center of my chest, down my stomach before circling my belly button. His hand rested low on my abdomen, fingers splayed wide. “This is . . .” He sighed, seemingly at a loss for words. His thumb stroked lazily back and forth, each time passing deliciously close to the top of my pouting, swollen lips. Unconsciously, I arched upward into his touch, causing that thumb to graze me in just the right spot. His thumb paused and pressed once as my juices flooded his hand.

We both groaned and I turned to look at him. “This is crazy.” I had never responded to anyone like this. Yes, it had been a while and yes, I was needy, but not even at my most passionate had I been this open, responsive, and insatiable.

He nodded. “It is crazy, mind-blowing, confusing, exhilarating . . .”

“Addictive and scary,” I finished for him, shivering a little before I rolled away.

He took my hand to stop me from going too far. “Are you scared, Jayla?”

I looked down at our joined hands before meeting his eyes. “No, I’m not scared. I guess I’m embarrassed.” I dropped his hand and walked into the bathroom to run a bath. My body ached in delicious places while my mind raced from thought to thought. Adding cucumber-melon-scented foaming salts to the water, I turned as I heard Jason come into the room.

Holding up a cold bottle of water, he said softly, “I’ll share the water if you share the bath.” He stood there waiting for my response.

I liked that in spite of all I had allowed this evening, he still respected boundaries. It was sweet. And it probably would’ve seemed old fashioned if we both weren’t standing naked in my bathroom like longtime lovers even though we were working with less than a month of acquaintance.

Settling into the large tub, I held out a hand. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

He grinned, passing me the chilled bottle. “You reachin’ for this or for me?” He climbed into the tub and settled in behind me as if we’d done this hundreds of times before.

I took a long drink, set the bottle on the ledge, and leaned back against him with a sigh. The warm water felt great between my legs, soothing the swollen skin.

“Sore, baby?” he murmured, cupping water in his hands and sloughing it over my shoulders. His hands slid down my arms before landing on the top of my thighs.

“Just a little,” I responded, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. “It’s been a while.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I sat up and moved toward the middle of the tub. “I can
not
believe I just told you that.”

He scooted forward and used his hands on my thighs to nestle me back up against him. “Jayla, relax. What did I say earlier?”

“Uh, which time? When you said, ‘Jayla likes it like that?’ ” One of the hottest things anyone had ever said to me.

He chuckled. “That, too, but seriously—I said I wouldn’t judge you and I won’t. So stop worrying about it. Stop being embarrassed, just enjoy.”

I liked that he was witty, and sexy, and gorgeous. “You can’t be real.”

“Why do you say that?” His long fingers traced circles on the inside of my thighs and I suddenly found it hard to concentrate on the conversation.

“You seem like a dream,” I said lazily, not really censoring myself. “You look like you look, you say those things you say, and the way you make love to me . . .”

“Yes?” His fingers stilled on my skin under the silky water.

I rotated until I was facing him, placing my legs on either side of his hips. “Something about you just makes me want to say things and do things . . . that I never ever do.” I leaned forward and licked his lips until he parted them. “You make love like one of my best dreams ever,” I whispered against his lips before plunging my tongue inside. I was aggressive with my kiss, diving in and darting my tongue around before nipping at his bottom lip with my teeth.

He wrapped his arms around me and dragged me closer, changing the angle of the kiss and giving me as good as he got. Crossing my legs behind his back, I brushed against his quickly hardening dick. I wrenched my mouth from his and leaned back, breathing deeply. “You kiss like a dream, too.”

My chest was rising and falling, my heart beating quickly. Without warning he tilted his head forward and took one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it to pebble hardness. He traced the tip with his tongue, teasing and nipping with his teeth. Greedily, I held the other one up for his ministrations. “Jason, please.” As he switched to lathe the other nipple with his tongue, his hand came up to lightly pinch and twist so both nipples were attended to. Jolts of pleasure shot straight from my nipples along already jangled nerves. My hips started gyrating of their own volition.

Replacing his mouth with his hands, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. “You are so responsive, liquid. So damn hot. How are you holding all of this in, baby?”

“I’m never like this, I’m not like this.... It’s just you,” I whispered against his lips.

Reaching underneath the water, I grabbed hold of him and began squeezing rhythmically while sliding my hand up and down.

His hips twitched and he groaned in the back of his throat. Sliding backward, he stood up and pulled me with him. Grabbing two fluffy towels, he wrapped one around his waist before lifting me bodily out of the tub. Securing the towel around me, he carried me out of the bathroom, focusing on the quickest path to my bed.

“Oh my,” I said under my breath, literally swept away. It should have been incredibly corny and overdone that he was carrying me to bed. Instead, I thought it was hot and romantic.

He raised a brow, smiled, and looked down at me. “Oh my?”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever actually been carried off to bed before.” I glanced up at him through my lashes.

He stopped by the side of the bed.“Jayla likes that?” He set me down on the bed and started drying me off in soft, circular strokes.

I all but purred, “Oh yeah, Jayla likes that.” Leaning back, I took a second to appreciate the sight of him. Sculpted torso with arm muscles rippling as he leaned forward to tend to me. My glance fell lower and I saw the rigid outline of him at full attention, tenting the towel. My mouth went dry before watering. Reaching up, I slid my hands up his damp abdomen, trailing up over his pectorals, feeling across his shoulders, down his arms, and back up.

He paused and took a deep breath. “That’s nice.”

“Jason likes that?” I whispered.

His gorgeous lips quirked upward. “Jason likes that.”

“You’re really going to like this then. . . .” I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him down, twisting and angling so he was lying back on the bed with his legs dangling off the side. I unwrapped the towel like a child with a gift on Christmas morning, eyes sparkling, and breathless with anticipation. I reached down and took him in my hands, my eyes floating up to meet his eyes, which had darkened to an almost forest green color. Trailing my fingers up and down the shaft, I didn’t wait another moment before leaning down and taking him in my mouth. We both groaned in appreciation.

I alternated techniques, taking him deep into my throat with slow strokes before squeezing his base with my hand as I licked and flicked my tongue up the length, following with a quick nibble at the tip before starting the whole process over again.

“Jesus, Jayla.”

“Hmm.” I paused teasingly. “You want me to stop?”

Wordlessly, he reached down, placed his hand on the top of my head, and urged me back to task. I laughed quietly before sucking him back deep. As I pumped and sucked, his hips rose up to meet me and his quiet sighs became words of pleading.

“That is so good, Jayla, hmm—don’t stop, baby.”

The more he talked, the faster I went and the hotter I became.

“God yes, just like that,” he growled. “You suck me just . . . like . . . that.”

Giving him so much pleasure increased my own and I felt my body quickening again. At the same time, he reached down and tweaked my nipples with his long fingers. His fingers and my mouth echoed the same frantic rhythm and within moments he began to come. The thick fluid sliding down my throat triggered my own climax and I sucked him harder and deeper as I rode the sensation.

“Jayla,” he screamed as I determinedly sucked every last bit of fluid from him. He continued to shudder with aftershocks as I held him in my mouth. Finally, he reached under my arms and lifted me off of him. “Lord, woman, you could kill a man like that.”

I curled up next to him. “You’d die happy.”

He kissed the top of my head and my eyes drifted shut for just a second.

BOOK: Crush

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