Love UnExpected (Love's Improbable Possibility) (42 page)

She laid there with her legs propped up and frontal view exposed from the robe that was splayed out on the table. I stood before her
, piercing down at her hungrily. Her panting and relaxed eyes told me she was exactly where I liked her; mild-tempered and wanting. I reached over to the consignments display on the buffet table along the wall and grabbed a packet of honey. When I mounted the table with my legs astride her, I opened it and poured small amounts on her turgid nipples, carefully making sure not to leave a messy trace from one to the other. Hovering down over her, yet with my weight pressed into the table and not touching her, I flickered my tongue over her left nipple, stirring the drop of honey over her areola. She squirmed and let out a long throaty groan.

“
You have to be still for this to work,” I ordered.

She stilled. And then I went back to that same breast and started
licking the honey off. My lapping eventually turned into sucking and pulling of her nipples.

“Ahhh!”
she cried out while thrusting her pelvis up to me. 

I looked up and hissed,
“You’re not cooperating, sweetheart.”

Once her left nipple was honey-free
, I moved on to her right breast issuing the same treatment. Her mouth was agape and eyes closed as she hummed through her nostrils. Rayna assumed more self-control this time around.

“Good girl
,” I affirmed as I poured a drop of honey into her private crevices and scooted off the table. “I don't need to add too much honey to this. It's sweet as it is...no good for my teeth.” 

I dipped my head and went in. I knew Rayna was ready to explode so I let her. After
eight seconds of me twirling my tongue around her clit, she convulsed into my face, grabbing my shoulders, neck then head.

“
Uuuuh, Azmir!” she sang out almost incoherently.

When I knew she was too sensitive to touch
, I inserted my fingers below into her wet folds providing her body a reprieve and softly blew onto her button. Seconds later, I went back for more sensual torture. Licking, flicking, and twirling my tongue viscously on her clit. 

“No...no. I can't. Wait!”
she begged trying to push me away at my shoulders. 

“Trust me, baby girl
,” I calmly urged her in a whisper.

I love
d performing cunnilingus. It comes as close to puppeteering as anything else. I enjoyed watching a woman, especially one as guarded as Rayna, become undone under my ministrations. This was one act that guaranteed her submission to me. Sex did as well but there were times when she wanted to take lead in that. This is the one thing she couldn't. I also was aware of the fact that I knew of things that would bring pleasure to her body that she was unaware of. I knew secrets of her chambers that were completely unknown to her. I could almost countdown to her next orgasm.

5-4-3-2...
 

“Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!”
she screamed like a mad woman.

My
tongue retreated inside her walls and flapped rapidly, but for less a period of time and went back up to her clitoris.

“No! I can’t Azmir! My body can’t...handle.
Another. One,” she protested under libidinous siege.

“
Okay...last one,” I whispered as I grabbed her breasts and began stretching her hardened nipples. And in seconds her hips started swinging in the air and her hands squeezed into my deltoid muscles. Her breathing stopped and her ass collapsed back on the table. She was done.

“
Holy...holy...Sh
..!” she blurted out with ragged breathing.

I gave
her some time to gather her bearings, resting my head on her thigh. I could have played on her body a little longer but knew she was overwhelmed. In that moment, I felt things inside that made my chest tighten. I couldn’t articulate what I was experiencing but knew it was associated with panic because I was falling deeper and deeper for a woman who wouldn’t let me in completely. I wanted to love her hopelessly. Possess her totally.

After some time when I noticed h
er breathing had slowed, I whispered, “Okay?”

“
Yeah,” she breathed.

I helped
her up from the table and when she was on her feet, I took to her eyes and murmured, “If you didn’t see it with your own eyes, hear it with your own ears, or feel it with your own clit, don’t make assumptions.” 

I turned to walk off to the bathroom
, but not before I caught her mouth hitting the floor. Not sure if she caught the double entendre. I was referencing her ability to have multiple orgasms consecutively
and
her story about the young girl and the drug dealer. I needed a moment to settle my feelings from the story she’d shared. I needed to calm the sharp pains I felt in my chest from the amount of emotions that had quickly collected for this flighty woman.

The next morning we were seated in the first class lounge. I had to initiate a few e-mails to settle my staff until I was able to return to the rec and Cobalt. I was a tad bit tired
, yet renewed from the connection I'd believed I made with my mother. The prospect of having her around was invigorating. I knew some would have believed I needed time on a psychologist's couch behind these latest developments but I would have abstained. I knew I'd only have to take it one day at a time. 

“
Hey, you,” Rayna nudged me. She was all smiles and giddiness. 

“Hey yourself, young lady.”
 

“
You're always working. When do you catch a break?”

“
Hmmmmmmm...let's see.” I went to embrace her. “Ah! When I'm inside of you. Nothing else seems to matter.”

She batted
her eyes, clearly physically affected by my admission. “You shouldn't say that in public places,” she whispered.

“
Don't challenge me,” I winked.

“
You're nasty.”

“
You like it,” I quipped.

With a heavy blush she turned her head away. I chuckl
ed to myself.

When she returned she said, “
I was thinking last night, maybe Yazmine could stay at my place. You know...until she gets on her feet.”

“
Really? I wouldn't want to put you out. I have a few rental properties and can have my assistant look into vacancies—”

She interrupted,
“You do?”

I gave a firm nod.
“I have real-estate properties…a few here and there.” Then it hit me in my rambling state, I muttered, “I even have one in Manhattan and another in Jersey, but those I contract out to corporations for their transient executive staff. So that wouldn't work.”
Hmmm...

“
Oh.” Rayna’s eyes danced the speed of the cogs of her brain churning. 

Shit. She freezes at the talk of my money.
 

Feeling the need to shift the mood I offer,
“I think that'll be a good idea.”

“
Really? You don't have to feel obligated. I just thought that you'd at least know she's safe, and who wouldn't like being by the water. But I didn't know you had rental properties…” her voice trailed off.

“
No. I like the idea. It's more personal staying at your place rather than some random apartment. I'm sure she'd view it as being close to me.”

“
Okay. It's totally up to you.” Rayna looked down at her phone and I noticed the narrowing of her eyebrows.

“
Hey...what's wrong?”

“
Oh...” she turned back to me realizing that I'd caught on to her internal processing. “You remember that group Pastor Edmondson suggested I join to help me connect with others in the church?”

“
Yes,” I nodded.

“
I've been going for a few weeks now and people volunteer their homes to host. I was asked to host and last week I declined but now I'm feeling like I don't have my “
get out of jail
” pass any more. The coordinator is asking again if we could do it at my place.”

“
I think that would be cool. Why the apprehension?” I knew she wasn't feeling the idea. Rayna wasn't the most out going person. She had no friends. 

“
You know I'm a very private person. And this is a church group.”

“
And?”

“
And? We're living in sin,” she muttered embarrassingly. 

“
Does your pastor know we live together?”

“
Yes, I've told him.” 

“
Then if you've gotten past that fact with him, the leader, no one else matters.” I didn't want her dwelling on shit that would come between us. Who cares that we lived together? We're living in the fucking 21st century.

“
I know but, I don't want to subject myself, or what we have, to church folk prattle. Besides, at the end of the day it's your place and I've noticed that you never have people over and I wouldn't want to impose.”

“
Rayna, it is just as much your home as it is mine. I haven't had company because I work dog hours. Aside from that, when you're there, I don't need anyone else.”

She looked at me as if I'd had two heads. This woman is a damn walking jigsaw.

“Look…have it at the crib. If it turns out that you're not feeling them, don't invite them again.”

As she
gazed into the distance she agreed by uttering, “Yeah. You're right. Okay.”

Problem solved.
 

Azmir

The sound of my cell phone ringing
continuously woke me out of a deep sleep. After being in a daze for a minute or two, I decided to answer. Half asleep, I didn’t think to look at the number.

“I’ve been trying to get you all week. Where in hell have you been? Do you think it’s a good idea to continue with ignoring me? Your daughter had
another round of shots a couple of days ago. It would have been nice for you to have come. Whatever’s going on between you and me has nothing to do with Azina. I can’t believe how selfish you’ve been over the past two weeks since she’s been here. You bastard!” Tara spewed.

To say that I wasn’t expecting that would be an understatement. Her voice traveled so far that Rayna, who was to the left of me, began shifting
beneath the covers and turning over in the bed to figure out where the noise was coming from. She removed her hair from her sleepy face and tried to focus in on the source of the sound.
I have to get this chick off the phone before a problem occurs.
I’d barely recovered from their previous encounter.

“Are you still there?” Tara yelled.

“Listen, it is too damn early in the morning for this shit,” I said not aware of the time.

“Too damn early? It’s ten in the damn morning! Where the hell have you been?" she yelled.

I didn’t realize it was that late. Being away only one weekend had my body totally off. I had gotten adjusted that quickly to that time zone. I was really fucked up in the head this particular morning. Either way, I didn’t want to hear this bullshit. Tara was getting out of hand with this baby shit! And this was a bad time to come at me with this with Rayna right here.

“Azmir!”

“You got one more time to yell in my ear and you’re gonna be talking to the dial tone!” I gritted threw a clenched jaw. “Did you sign the paperwork for the test? I thought I made it clear that there will be nothing going on until that is done.”

“Are you on that bullshit again, Azmir? Are you really going to subject this little girl to all that probing just to find out something that your pride won’t allow you to admit? Yes, I’ve made mistakes but I know who the father of my child is. Please don’t continue to disrespect me!” she
demanded.

“Again, until that’s taken care
of don’t have any expectations of me. Another thing, don’t call me until it’s done. Are we clear?”

“Azmir…”
Tara cried.

“ARE WE CLEAR?” I blurted
furiously. I had to bring it back in because this conversation was lasting longer than I needed it to and I knew Rayna was going to follow up with her concerns about it. I didn’t need this bullshit.

There was silence at the other end. I took that to mean she understood this conversation was over.
In a much calmer, yet firm tone I said, “Fill out the papers and we’ll be in touch from there.”

With that
, I disconnected our call. I then took a deep breath to prepare myself for what was coming.  But Rayna was silent. I laid back on my pillow, brushed my face in exasperation with my hands and exhaled. She slowly got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom door.

“Where you going?” I asked with fury because I knew what was coming.

She was closing up on me. I can honestly say that I prefer for her to bitch and scream because at least I’d know where her head is and, most importantly, her heart. When she gives me the silent treatment I get confused and insecure as a motherfucker!

“Work
,” was all she said.

I knew it was just an excuse. We were both exhausted and had only slept a few hours. I mean, we didn’t have plans to spend time together once we returned and even I had a little running around
to do but I knew this abrupt exodus was because of Tara’s call. I could have addressed the issue but I was too damn tired to explain for the millionth time that Tara was just dragging out our break up. Hell, she’s almost a year into this denial thing. Tara was either psycho or knew what she was doing, which was fucking with me! 

I had a lot of shit on my plate. Business was plentiful and therefore stressful as hell
, Tara was dragging her feet with the fucking DNA test so that I could get her the hell out of my life forever or have my legal team help me to parent without the drama from her, and I’d been uncovering Big D’s fraudulence. If the baby turned out to be mine, I don’t know if Rayna could fly with that. I could ask her to but couldn’t force her. That would be some shit I would have to eat.

I had to brush that shit off and get up my damn self. Big D had been pushing me to meet with him since our discoveries at the Santa Monica Pier. He called several times and left messages. He said that I didn’t allow
him the opportunity for us to speak about the “incident” and we should. I told him before leaving for New York that I would meet with him today.

I had done a great job at pushing the magnitude of his betrayal to the back of my mind. The truth be told, I was deeply wounded and dazed by it. I have vivid memories of my dad being a devoted husband, loving father and an overall generous man to all those he came into contact with. I’d always been at peace with his absence because of Big D’s paternal guidance. And to think that the only man who I’ve looked to as a father murdered my
biological father. Big D might not have pulled the trigger but the deed was done under his orders. He didn’t stop there; he set my mother up on a drug charge that sent her to prison for damn near twenty years separating us. All of this and he’s never made any mention of this.

This man was beyond
insane, he was depraved.      

~~~~~~~~~~

Rayna

My night to host women’s Bible study had arrived. The women started trickling in just after seven in the evening, there were seven of them in all and I was nervous. I was not accustomed to having people over to my place and to make matters more nerve-wracking was having them over to the place that I now shared with Azmir. We’d managed to have little to no visitors up to that point.

I knew the evening would be somewhat difficult for me
, but I pushed through the challenge. I asked Chef Boyd to prepare a light spread that he put his foot into and upheld his moxie. He prepared delicious finger foods, salads, and desserts that I would’ve never thought of. It was truly impressive. I used the dinning room table to set a beautiful display of his artistry. Azmir informed me that he’d be playing ball that evening and likely wouldn’t be home until well into the night. I didn’t hear much from him that afternoon or evening, but chalked it up to him being busy.

LaWanda,
our women’s Bible study group leader, facilitated the session as usual and picked up where we had left off the previous week on the nine fruits of the Spirit. According to the Bible, there are nine fruits that we are to challenge ourselves to take on in order to live full godly lives. I found this particular series to be quite interesting. Pastor Edmonson had been teaching it during his Sunday morning sermons and had arranged with the various subgroups of the church to take it on in our sessions in order to personalize it.

Holy Deliverance Tabernacle Church wa
s fairly large, making intimacy among the parishioners somewhat limited. So they came up with the idea of small groups to encourage fellowship. This women’s group was comprised of about thirty women or more, not one time have they all showed to one meeting that I’d been to. I had no idea why Pastor Edmondson recommended this group to me. Other than all of us being women, I wasn’t sure what we had in common. Much of that is because I’d never gotten to know them enough to ask about their personal lives.

LaWanda picked up her phone from the coffee table to peek at the time. “It’s time for us to start wrapping up, but before we close with prayer I want to summarize tonight’s lesson
: the fourth fruit of the spirit—peace. When Jesus left for heaven he said, I leave with you my peace. I believe he said this to remind us that trouble would be a part of our journey. It’s inevitable; think about our current economy, the divorce rate, the statistics of incarceration and re-admittance into prisons, terrorist attacks and the list goes on and on. He knew there’d be trouble and therefore left a helper, which is the spirit of peace. This fruit, like the other eight, is a supernatural phenomenon that presents itself when we are troubled.

“
Keep in mind that we have to
choose
it. The Word tells us to put on the fruits, which means we have to decide we want to employ them. In this case, if you need peace you must decide to call upon it. When there is trouble in your life or things that worry or concern you, you must decide that you won’t worry or waste in anxiety over it. Instead, you’re going to call on the spirit of peace. It’s a choice and one that you must declare and actively pursue. I will leave you with 2 Thessalonians 3:16, “
Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace always in every way. The Lord be with you all
.” Let’s bow our heads in prayer….”

She closed in prayer. After we said
Amen
in unison the ladies gathered back in the dining room where several of them packed food to go. I couldn’t blame them and was quite grateful that none of it went to waste. Boyd had really outdone himself that day. Before I had realized it, we somehow had gathered in the kitchen and started chatting.

“Whew! Everything was good tonight…the food and the Word! I’m sorry that I have to get home to my Jimmy and those three rough boys of mine. Rayna, this is a nice place you have here. We should come every week!” Tanya stretched out her arms and shrieked.

Now, I knew Tanya was married to an automobile repairman and had children because she often spoke about how overwhelmed she was with it all. I liked her and thought she was sweet and easygoing. She often shared her struggles, most of the time causing me to shiver at the details of her life because she seemed to put up with so much. They struggled financially though he worked like a dog and she stayed home with her youngest children.

“You always running out of here to those boys and husband of yours. You should relax and hang out a bit. Me and Lisa going to that jazz club over in Hawthorne. It’s a nice place to meet people
,” Rhonda announced. She was always on the prowl for a man. And I didn’t know why she even suggested that to Tanya.

“Girl, I am married. I ain’t got no business hanging out in no bar with a whole bunch of single people! I
got too much stuff to do at home,” Tanya protested.

“You don’t have to be looking for a man because you at a jazz club. It ain’t like you at
a dance club. It’s nice and mellow,” Rhonda rolled her eyes, clearly affronted.

“Well, I’m willing to go! I’m tired of looking at the same men Sunday after Wednesday after Sunday after Wednesday. I was so happy when we started these groups! I would rather look at a whole
bunch of women than look at the same men in that church!” Lisa growled causing us to burst out in laughter.

She was extremely petite
, had to be no more than five feet and 110lbs wearing turquoise fitted jeans with a paisley shirt to match. She kept the same hairstyle; a bun in the back with a blunt cut bang. Lisa had a permanent scowl etched into her face. Rarely did I see her smile, but she was very outspoken. “I’m serious! Name one man in that church that’s single and desirable.”

Trying to muzzle her laughter, LaWanda defended, “There a several eligible bachelors in
Holy Deliverance Tabernacle Church. You have Mark that plays the keys—” All  the women blew air from their faces or made some type noises with their mouths in disagreement. “Okay. Paul the deacon and Greg the usher.” The crowd went up in roar.

“Yeah, right!” one yelled.

“Come again?” another demanded.

“Is she serious? Paul picks his
boogers during service and Greg flirts with everybody that he ushers to a pew!” Yolanda screamed.

LaWanda
, wanting to belly over in laughter, waved her finger in the air instead. “Y’all women gotta stop being so picky! God can be calling Deacon Paul to you and you worried about something as petty as his booger picking habit instead.”

I liked LaWanda. She was beautiful with her almond complexion and bouncy natural afro that flopped at least
nine inches out. She was tall and slim and always wore over sized clothing. Her style resembled hippy. LaWanda always seemed to be leveled and focused. She initiated this particular group. In one of our previous meetings, she mentioned her degree in political science and that she’d been pursing a graduate degree in Public Administration. I could see her gathering and leading people to the promise land with her passion. I kind of envied her confidence and initiative. She’d been consistently warm and friendly. I’d heard from Yolanda’s rants one week that she was seeing the bass player from the church. 

“No! I’m not picky just because I’m not desperate enough to take on just any man that flicks his eye at me! Shoot. It’s hard being single
, but I got me a mechanical device to pass the time,” Karmen blurted out with the roll of the eyes while she rested her elbows on the marble countertop of the island that we’d all retreated to. The kitchen was divided with half silence and half high-fiving her. I was a neutral party and watched.