Motown Showdown (11 page)

Kandace was first to come in followed by Rome. They only planned to stay a minute no doubt sensing the tension but that all changed when she sat at the piano and started to play.

“Sit still, Pepper,” my mother says pointing at the piano. “Bach had to learn patience and so do you.”

I didn’t want to be Bach; I wanted to be Sigourney Weaver or Pam Grier. “Are you listening to me?” she asks interrupting my thoughts and blocking my view of the yard. “Yeah, I’m listening.”

“You can go outside and spend hours in your tree later. First, you play.”

Taking a deep breath, I found my patience and played. Then when she was satisfied, I ran outside and scaled that tree in seconds. Patience she said…

Forever, he said.

You know what, so okay yeah, I’ve jonsed for him for a while but you don’t just start sprouting promises of forever. I may not know much about long term, but even I know that! I was just getting to know him on a personal level; I didn’t want declarations of forever, I wanted his dick and was willing to stay in the
now
.

Sure, I wanted more but I didn’t know how much more. Certainly not after a few days together with an apology thrown in. But then he looked at me, and I felt it, that connection that
pull
. Drowning in it, I was about to promise him the world in return when the doorbell rang.

Hellooo, reality check. Let’s face it, chances were good we wouldn’t have forever anyway.

Offering a wave, I meander over to the piano that sits off the living room. Giving Gage time to handle family business, my plan was just to look at it, envy it. But in life and with me, what I think versus what I do are always opposites. Sitting down I can feel my fingertips start to tingle. Lining my feet up with the pedals, one second I was thinking of a song and the next I was playing it. My parents loved the piano, my mother especially. Three days a week, two hours per session I had to behave and it paid off.

Allowing myself to get lost in the moment, I simply play.

Not for them, not really for me even. Just well, because I had to. The truth was; I haven’t played in years. For a few moments, I gave it all away. The worry, paranoia, the fear of failure, all of it. I may be a happy person, but I had worries like everyone else; it’s just that normally they don’t consume me. At some point it ended, and I left my hands on the keys enjoying the anchor.

“You play very well,” says Kandace taking a seat next to me on the bench.

“I only play a little,” I tell her still wanting to play more.

“That was Bach,” she says softly. “Piano Sonata No. 21 in C, to be exact.”

“Do you play?”

“No,” she says. “I sing.”

“What do you sing?”

“Oh let’s see, anything Motown for sure, gospel, R &B, and some pop if, I’m feeling it.”

If there was anything not to like about Kandace, I didn’t know what it was. In my opinion, she was the most genuine person I had ever met and the complete opposite of her brother. Shaking my fingers out, I start to play again. I loved Michael Jackson, most especially the Jackson 5. Kandace started to hum until the song actually started and then it took everything I had to keep going once she did. Because girlfriend can sing.

Got to be there

Got to be there in the morning

When he says hello to the world

And so it went until the last key was played, and her voice trailed off. A voice that belonged in a recording studio, maybe a dimly lit lounge in New York City. Or in this case, a dead woman’s living room in Detroit. Looking at each other, we both simply smiled because we just had ourselves a total girl moment. I stored it away forever because I’d never had a girl moment before. At the same time, we both look over at the boys and my eyes went to his face and stayed there.

I didn’t know what that look meant, I just knew it was important, that I’ve waited six years to see it.

“Time to go,” Rome says reaching for Kandace. She didn’t say goodbye, and I didn’t offer one either.

Not breaking my stare I don’t even flinch when the door slams. But when he says, “Get over here, beauty,” I was off that bench in record time.

“I’ve got to take a job out of town, Gadget. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

“Would you miss me if I died?” she said nothing, it was just her breathing. “Camo?”

“I’d find a way to bring you back and kill you myself,” she says before hanging up. I heard what she said, but I had to wonder if what she didn’t say was, a part of her would die too.

Her playing that old piano did something to me.

I didn’t know shit about music until her fingers touched those keys. Watching her lower her head, close her eyes and let go was beautiful. In the beginning, I don’t think she was even aware that she did it until Kandace sat next to her. With their bond growing stronger by the second, I was stuck in place watching Camo play and Kandace sing. In perfect synch, the two of them brought feelings out in me I preferred to keep buried.

Camo was right.

When she was near, I was distracted. When she was near, life made sense, I could breathe easier and our connection didn’t seem surreal, it seemed fated. When she was near I let my focus shift and gambled with my own life wanting to be closer to hers. She’s wanted me for six years like I wanted her. Countless women, random forgettable females when I could have had
this
. I could have had the one woman meant for me, the one who made an art of blending. She was already blended with me, now my sister and Rome. My dads would adore her, she would blend right into my life and I felt owed.

As the song wound down, my need for her skyrocketed, it hit me, and there was no stopping it. When she looked up, and our eyes locked, Rome saved me the trouble of kicking them out when he took Kandace and left. “Get over here, beauty,” I order her and she came over without a fight. Slipping my hand around her tiny waist I draw her to me and simply listen. To her breathing, the clock ticking, the leaky faucet in the kitchen and my heartbeat. Then she leans back to look up at me, brings her hand up and around the back of my neck then pulls my face down to hers.

With our lips touching she whispers, “I’m taking what’s mine,” and I let her. Digging her fingers into my skin, she slides her tongue in where mine was waiting. The second they met my dick jumped, and when she pushed her tits into my chest while trying to get closer to me, I cupped her ass to help her out.

Taking her free hand, she hooks it inside the rim of my jeans and runs it along my skin. Growling into her mouth, she gives me a triumphant laugh in return. Careful of her shoulder and her stomach, I walk us back toward the bedroom, but she stops us at the door. “I can’t do this in his grandma’s bed,” she says looking freaked out.

“She isn’t using it,” I point out.

“Because she’s dead,” she points out.

“Then where do you suggest we do this?”

“Couch, recliner, floor…” she says offering me options.

Taking her mouth she moans and latching onto me she says, “Or here works,” before I move us again. Sitting on the piano bench with her between my legs, I slide her yoga pants down making sure her… oh fuck. “You aren’t wearing underwear,” I groan when I see nothing but skin. Olive, bare skin.

“I was hopeful,” she says putting her hands on my shoulders. Finishing the task, she steps out of them, and I briefly check her bandage before making my way up to her tits. “I’m not in any pain,” she says guiding my hands up under her shirt. “Undress me,” she instructs and just when I think I’m in charge she reminds me that I’m not. Removing her shirt then peeling that fucking sports bra off I run my hands down the front of her causing goosebumps to break out.

“Feel good, beauty?”

“Yeah,” she says on a sigh. “But do you know what would feel better?”

“What’s that?” I ask circling her belly button with my thumb. Pushing my shoulders, I found myself hitting piano keys with my back. Before I could blink, she was standing on the bench straddling me with her pussy in my face. Reaching up, I cup her ass again holding her in place.

“You putting that mouth to good use, and I don’t mean talking,” she says holding my head in her hands. “That’s what would feel better.”

Not even bothering with an answer, I lean in and spread her open with nothing more than my tongue. Immediately she let out a moan that was music to my ears. Words of praise followed, some incoherent shit too; then she started getting demanding.

I liked demanding.

I liked it so much that I shifted, sunk down just enough to get her knees over my shoulders thereby improving my mouth to pussy ratio. “Holy shit,” she marvels. “I like where your head is at, literally.” Not being able to answer for obvious reasons and even if I could have, I wouldn’t. This was by far, hands down the best pussy I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve had some good pussy. Her hands were all over my head digging in, then she pulled my ears and when she was coming she leaned forward far enough that it forced me to lean back to finish. Camo wasn’t a screamer, she was a scratcher. Sinking her nails in, she moaned deep and clawed the fuck out of my head.

It felt fantastic, like I was owned.

Letting her catch her breath she slowly eased up and looked down at me. “Hey,” she says smiling. “How’s the neck?” without notice, I stood up making sure she was anchored. “Ho!” she says grabbing my head again for support. Taking her to the wall I put her against it and start over. This time I went at her faster, harder and holding her up was no hardship. I loved her weight on my shoulders, the only thing keeping her from falling was
my
strength. Finally, I was taking care of my woman. “So close,” she pants and tucks her tiny feet under my arms for balance. “Oh God I’m there,” she cries out then does the most amazing thing. As she’s coming on my tongue and grinding on my face she whispers, “Thank you, Gage.”

…
She thanked me
.

From a distance, I watched him, and a random woman pull up to her place. He didn’t open her door for her; she let herself out. She was giving him fuck-me eyes. He wasn’t giving her anything. His face was blank like this was a job he didn’t want but had committed to. But once they went inside he’d be giving her what belonged to me. He did this a lot. They all looked the same, but each one hurt me worse than the last. I should leave, I know I should. But while he’s inside, he’s vulnerable to attack. I’ve got to have his back, no matter the cost to myself.

Twenty minutes later, getting in his truck he searches the street for me but he wouldn’t find me. Which was good because if he had, he’d have found me crying.

Using both arms, he gently raises me up and off his shoulders to lower me down on shaky legs. With my hands on his chest, I spread them out and down, lifting his shirt up and over his head. He had to lean forward to help me, but he did it easily. Standing in front of me shirtless, he stood proud and beautiful. As he should, because damn he was fine. “I’ve dreamt of you naked,” I say running my hands all over his skin. “But this is so much better.”

Moving to his jeans, I get them down to his ankles with no issue. Kicking them away and facing me I about passed out. He was real, I didn’t imagine it. He was here, and this was happening. Stepping forward and bringing us together, his dick is just under my tits, and it felt amazing. Taking it in my hands, I memorize the shape, stroke it and when he groans, I do it again. Placing his hands above my head on the wall, I move him around in my hands, fast, slow and then he stops me before I can drop fully to my knees.