In My Sister's Shadow (6 page)

Mark clung onto her words like he was parasailing on each syllable. It was moments like these when his job was so important to him. Giving her some peace, even for a few seconds, made the long hours he worked worth it.

 “You know how some dead people look…well…stiff?” she continued. “Rhine looked like she was still alive, still breathing. She didn’t have that dullness you see with people, Black people in particular. She wasn’t gray, or anything like that. Her skin glowed, it was incredible.” She seemed to drift away in thought. “And…the service. The way you had the service set up, and the vestibule, you’re really talented, you know? Well, enough of that, let’s talk about something else.” She shifted her weight again. Mark could see she was uncomfortable. It was the last thing he wanted to happen, especially since he’d taken so much time, and invested so much energy into trying to ensure that she could relax tonight.

“Sure, anything you want.”

He leaned back and listened to her discuss her upcoming projects, her family, the house she’d just purchased five months ago and her dreams of going to Ireland one day to take photos. She shared how she’d love to shoot a modeling portfolio for someone famous, especially since she really loved fashion, and her desires to get out of Shreveport, Louisiana one day and tour the world, on something besides her typical annual cruise ship rides.

He listened, nodded, replied occasionally, but mostly just took it all in. He was enjoying her to the utmost – immensely. The sound of her voice was intoxicating; feminine yet mature, deep and sophisticated. She enunciated each term clear as a bell and her deep Southern twang accented the words like a small, gold dusting, versus distorting it, forcing one’s ear to be lost in incomprehensible translation. She was the real Southern belle – vulnerable, mannerly, real, coy, shy and mysterious. Something was brewing just under the surface, beneath those doe like eyes and that calm, cool and collected exterior. She’d endured pain and bounced back like a beach ball but she covered it with lacey black veils, large tortoiseshell sunglasses and a gleaming smile framed in ruby lip-stain. She crossed her legs appropriately, never put her elbows on the table and ate in small bites, but deep inside, she was so much more.

What secrets are you keeping, Ms. Bijou?

Mark realized immediately that Bijou was an onion and she intrigued him to no end. He was willing to peel her back, layer by layer and even if she made him cry, he’d keep going because he knew that if he got her hot, he could season her with his kisses and she’d be an absolutely delicious seven-course meal…
bon appetit
.

* * *

Six weeks later…

“Come on now, stop being silly!” Bijou laughed as she chased Mark through his parlor, his worn dark jeans fitting him to a “T.”

“You’ve taken enough photos of me, today.” He continued to walk briskly, forcing her to keep on his heels into the kitchen, her bare feet clapping against the cool linoleum as she chased behind him. He glided his fingers over his well-built pecs and opened the refrigerator door, illuminating the chiseled body he worked hard to keep in shape at the local gym any chance he could. He knew he was showing off, but he didn’t care.

“You want some more pop?”

“No thanks, I shouldn’t have had the one I had, but I was craving a Coke so bad.” She snapped another photo as he tilted the milk jug to his mouth, his Adams apple pivoting with each deep gulp.

“Gross, by the way.” She laughed as she snapped another photo.

“Hey, it’s
my
milk,” he said between gulps then placed it back inside. He turned towards her, his eyes narrowing as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and blinked when the flash from Bijou’s timeworn camera stopped him in his tracks. “With all the fancy cameras you have, surely, you could have picked one that wasn’t an old relic to take my photos with tonight.”

He laughed as he took her hand and led her into his living room, their bare feet skipping along the floor until they reached the over-stuffed tan and coffee couch with cream colored throw pillows. Mark sighed as he threw himself onto the couch.

“I love antiques, you know that; you can look around and see that, but that thing is going to make me go blind.”

He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes, the clock striking ten in the evening on the dot. Bijou sat down beside him and nestled her face on his chest. She traced his chest hair with her index finger and rested comfortably against him, their bodies in sync. Mark smiled down at her as he ran his fingers softly through her tousled hair. They sat quietly together until Bijou yawned.

“Uh oh, someone is getting sleepy,” he teased. “We were supposed to watch that movie tonight. Looks like you won’t make it.” He continued to run his fingers through her hair and began to stir under her. “Well, let me put my shirt and shoes on and get ready to take you home. I’ll only be a sec. Your shoes are in the parlor.”

Bijou sat up and stretched. Mark could feel her glare on him as he stood up. He began to make his way up to his bedroom to grab the shirt he’d removed earlier due to the extreme heat in the house when he heard his name called out.

“Mark, wait.” She yawned again.

“Yeah?” He turned towards her, standing on the second to last step of the stairwell, and ignored the new chill in the air.

“Can I stay?”

“You want to try and stay up and watch the movie?”

She rolled her eyes, shook her head and gently bit her bottom lip. “No. What I have planned does not include watching television…”

* * *

“Are you sure this is fine?” he asked as he re-entered the bedroom and stood in front of Bijou as she wrapped the sheets around her body.

“Yes, of course. I like sleeping in men’s clothes anyway. It is far more comfortable.” She smiled as she brought her knees up to her chin.

“OK, as long as you’re comfortable. Also, I turned the air off.” He tugged on his boxers and slid under the sheets with her.

“Oh, thank God! You like it blasting. I know it was hot earlier, but goodness, Mark, it’s like a freezer in here. How can you even stand it? Matter of fact, I’ve noticed it gets cold here a lot at night, since I’ve been over more lately.”

“Yeah, I have been putting it off but I have a repair guy coming out. Something is wrong with the thermostat. It’s been reading wrong and I’m sure the programming is screwed up. It’s really odd, too, because it’s practically brand new even though the house is old. Oh, it tends to creak a lot in here sometimes, so don’t be alarmed.” He reached over and gave her a gentle peck on the lips. It was one of a long line of kisses they’d shared since their first date, when he dropped her off at home and was granted permission to cover his lips with hers. He didn’t want to seem high-schoolish, but he could’ve sworn he felt sparks flying. Her soft lips had glided across his, and he fought everything in his power that evening to not slip his tongue inside. That goal was abandoned soon after though, and they’d had a few heated make-out sessions in which his body was wrapped around hers like a glove…pressing against her, melting with her up against her living room wall or along his couch in front of the television. Their comfort level continued to grow until it reached the pivotal point – so much that fighting the inevitable was now futile.

Mark turned to his nightstand and fumbled around in the dark. He turned on his antique radio clock, and “Night Fever” from the BeeGees came on, causing both of them to burst out laughing.

“Oh, Jesus, let me find something else.” He began to turn the knob.

“No, leave it on there. I like that song actually.” She giggled as she tugged at his black, worn T-shirt that hit her at her knees, but rode up every time she turned ever so slightly.

“Oh, OK,” he said huskily as he looked at her, his small nightlight allowing him to see a bit of her face. They lie quietly, shoulder to shoulder, before both burst out laughing again.

“Mark, you’ve got to be kidding me?”

“What?” He threw up his hands. ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ came on by the BeeGees. “Well, that’s a little better…it must be a ’70s music marathon or something.”

“Forget about that, kiss me, what’s wrong with you?” she laughed throatily, her striking eyes glowing and shining brightly.

He quickly covered her body with his, kissing her softly, his lips moving leisurely up and down hers, pressing gently, then firmly as he sluggishly wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her to him…moan…

 “Nothing’s wrong with me,” he whispered in her ear as he enjoyed their body heat exchange. “I was trying to lead up gradually, but I see you’re all uptight tonight. I’ll have to change that.”

He pushed his arms under her back, cupping her shoulders as he opened his thighs further and slowly grinded against her, applying intermittent pressure as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned as he moved his toned pelvis in slow and easy circumvolutions. Bijou wrapped her arms around his neck and her searching gaze found his. He pulled away from her mouth and kissed her cheek then looked back directly at her. “I told you, you had dreamy eyes. They are shining, like mirrors. I can almost see myself in them.”

He bent closer to her face again, kissing her a bit harder than before, making her his willing prisoner. He felt her moving beneath him, her body matching his rhythm as he took the lead. The horizontal dance caused the T-shirt to rise higher and higher until it was bunched right across her ribs. He felt it digging into him, creating a barrier. That’s the last thing he wanted – anything coming between them.

“Do you mind taking that off?” he asked with slight exasperation. “Or do you want to keep it on?”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Mark allowed her room to pull it the rest of the way up, exposing her pink, lacy bra-covered breasts. He gently took his T-shirt out of her hands, and flung it to the ground before gliding back down, and kissing lightly on her neck. She shuddered, causing him to wrap himself around her even tighter.

“I’m sorry it’s so cold, baby…” he said between kisses.

“We’ll have to keep each other warm.” He could see her teeth gleaming in the dimness. He smiled down at her, then kissed passed her collar bones as he massaged her shoulders lightly. He disappeared further and further down, teasing her with his fingers and lips until he was directly above her quivering navel. He reached upward and rubbed her breasts, coaxing her nipples to become fully erect under his soft and deliberate touch. His body shook in reaction to her sultry sighs.

Wanting to feel skin against skin, he reached around her and unsnapped her bra. He slid it away, revealing her rounded C-cups. Without hesitation, he engulfed the left nipple in his hungry mouth. His balmy breath and firm sucking had her run her fingers through his hair and coo uncontrollably. Mark massaged her right breast, while he continued to draw in and lick the other. His hands ran over them, feeling them, examining them. He had a full view, despite the dimness of the room, and he learned their shape simply by touch as his fingertips ran along the supple flesh, the rigidness of her fat, hard nipple in his mouth and the drawn skin around it.

He adored them…

He felt his erection becoming stronger as she continued to moan and gyrate against his contorting groin, waking the sleeping giant from its slumber.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble tonight,” he teased, smiling in the dark before switching to her right breast.

“I know, that’s what I was hoping for.”

He felt her smile then heard her sigh as his tongue darted back and forth, lingering over her skin, inch by inch. He gripped her waist and slid further down, flinging the covers out of the way, and gradually pulled down her matching pink panties. Then he settled between her soft, warm thighs.

“Oh, God,” she gasped as he languorously licked up and down her outer lips, the tip of his tongue tracing them back and forth, then outlining her wet, juicy slit – the gate to the long-awaited pussy palace. He continued on, teasing her for several minutes, not daring to go inside or part them open just yet. He felt her shaking beneath him in anticipation. He was in no hurry. He wanted this indelibly printed on both of their minds not for hours or days, but for years to come…

“Mmm,” she moaned hoarsely as he crossed his arms underneath her, and buried his nose and lips into her lotus.

She moaned louder, her voice cracking as she finally felt what she’d been waiting for. Mark traced her slowly with his tongue, released his hold on her and used his fingers to delicately open up her moist, pink petals. He lowered his face back down on her, his chin and lips wet with her distillation as he supinely circled her sweet folds with painstaking attention. He knew exactly where to go, how to go, and when to go…no directions needed. He continued to lick up and down, then he went in for the kill…he daintily danced upward, and then went full force after her fleshy floral bud.

She gasped and jerked as he stiffened the tip of his tongue and darted it in fast, sharp movements, all over clit. He held onto her thighs, clamping her down as she screamed out in complete euphoria. Mark felt her fingertips dig softly into his hair as he continued to bob his tongue up and down, circling her clitoris then licking her folds in small, tight spherical motions. Bridging his muscular back, he continued to grind his tongue against her vertical smile.