Authors: Maureen Smith
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica
“Mama Wolf,” Taylor whispered.
The family matriarch held out her arms, welcoming Taylor into her warm embrace. They hugged for a long time, swaying from side to side. By the time they pulled apart, tears were streaming down Taylor’s face.
Mama Wolf smiled tenderly, her touch gentle as she brushed Taylor’s tears away. “I’m so glad you’re here, baby. We’ve all missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Taylor whispered.
Evangeline Wolf’s cocoa brown skin was gently wrinkled, and her short white hair was thinner. But her hands were still soft, and her dark eyes were as keenly intelligent as ever. For someone who was three years shy of one hundred, she looked pretty amazing.
“Hey, Mama.” Manning greeted her with an affectionate hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Smiling fondly, she clasped one of his hands and Taylor’s, her eyes glowing with supreme satisfaction as she looked them over. “It’s so wonderful to see the two of you together again. Does my heart good.”
Manning and Taylor smiled softly at each other.
“Come with me,” Mama Wolf said, holding onto their hands. “I’ve got something for Taylor.”
She led them to the large gourmet kitchen, where the granite counters were filled with platters of food. As they watched, she opened a cupboard, removed a covered cake dish and set it down on the center island. When she lifted the lid with a flourish, Taylor’s eyes widened in delight.
“Your pound cake!”
Mama Wolf smiled warmly. “I remember how much you used to enjoy it. I thought you’d like to have some for old times’ sake.”
Taylor smiled, her eyes misting with tears at the memory of the first time she’d eaten Mama Wolf’s pound cake. She’d gone to Manning’s house after school to drop off his classwork so he wouldn’t fall behind while on suspension. She’d ended up staying for a piece of cake while he helped her with their precalculus homework. It was there, at his family’s kitchen table, that they’d had their first kiss.
When Taylor looked at Manning, the sweetly poignant memory was reflected in his tender gaze.
Mama Wolf cut a slice of the thick, moist cake and placed it on a small plate that she handed to Taylor. “I baked several for the cookout, but this one is for you and Manning to take home.”
“Thank you, Mama Wolf.” Taylor picked up the spongy wedge of cake, bit into it and let out an appreciative groan. “Oh, man. Just as delicious as I remember.”
Mama Wolf beamed with pleasure. “Thank you, baby.”
Manning edged closer to Taylor. “Can I have some?”
“I suppose I can share.” She smiled and lifted the cake to his mouth, watching as he took a bite.
“Mmm,” he murmured, staring into her eyes in a way that made her shiver. “Delicious every time.”
Mama Wolf observed them with unconcealed delight. “The two of you feeding cake to each other. Now
that’s
a picture worth a thousand words.”
“We couldn’t agree more.”
Taylor turned to watch as Manning’s parents entered the kitchen, their eyes twinkling as they smiled at her and Manning.
After greeting them with hugs, Prissy asked curiously, “How long have you two been here?”
“Not long,” Manning replied, helping Taylor polish off the piece of cake.
Prissy grinned, draping an arm around Taylor’s waist. “Doesn’t she look wonderful, Mama?”
Mama Wolf smiled warmly. “She certainly does. She’s a sight for sore eyes.”
“Yes, she is.” Prissy sighed contentedly. “It’s so good to have everyone together again. Sunday dinner is going to be quite a celebration.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Manning said. “Unfortunately, Taylor and I won’t be here this weekend.”
“What? Why not?”
“We’re going to Paris.”
“Oh?” Prissy looked pleased. “How romantic.”
“Umm-hmm.” Mama Wolf wagged a finger at Manning and Taylor, dark eyes glimmering. “Just don’t get any crazy ideas about eloping.”
Taylor blushed as Manning laughed. Offering no reassurances, he kissed his mother and great-grandmother on the cheek and clapped his father on the shoulder, then grabbed Taylor’s hand and ushered her out of there.
They headed outside to the sprawling backyard, which boasted lushly landscaped garden beds, a gazebo, a guesthouse and a small pool. The lawn was enclosed by tall, leafy trees that provided enough shade to keep the temperature down even on a sweltering July afternoon.
With the cookout in full swing, dozens of people roamed around laughing and enjoying the food and festivities as a deejay cranked out the latest tunes. Manning’s brothers were surrounded by a group of fawning young women who were baring enough flesh to raise the eyebrows of several older guests walking by.
Across the yard, a small stage overlooked a sea of white chairs. Several frolicking children chased one another around the stage, squealing with laughter as they waved bright glow sticks.
A long buffet table erected beneath a canopy was overflowing with potato and pasta salads, bowls of chips and dips, fruit and vegetable trays, platters of cookies and brownies, and a variety of cakes and pies. Next to the food table was an oversize cooler stocked with cold beverages.
The smoky aroma of steaks, burgers and hot dogs wafted enticingly from a large grill set up beneath a nearby tent. The grill was being manned by Michael Wolf, who wore an apron over his purple Omega Psi Phi T-shirt and loose khakis. A group of men was gathered around him, their deep voices tumbling over one another’s as they bantered raucously and swigged beers. Half of them were dressed like Michael, while the other half wore red shirts that identified them as members of Kappa Alpha Psi.
Following the direction of Taylor’s gaze, Manning grinned. “Let me introduce you to the fellas and then we can eat.”
“Okay.” Taylor smiled as they started from the veranda. “I can’t wait to see Quentin again.”
“I don’t see him over there, but I know he’s around here somewhere.”
As they approached the rowdy fellas at the grill, the Que Dogs turned and started barking at Manning. He grinned broadly and barked back at his brethren.
The Kappas playfully booed him, trying to drown out all the
roo-roo-rooing
.
“Hold up, hold up,” Michael interjected with authority. “This is my father’s house, and in my father’s house there are many Omegas. Did I say Kappas? Nawl, I said
Omegas
. You Nupes are guests up in here. Feel me?
Guests
.” He flexed his tattooed bicep. “Respect.”
On cue, his frat brothers proudly chanted “
Omega Psi Phi till the day I die!
” and threw up their signature hooks, which set off another round of boisterous trash talking.
Taylor laughed and shook her head as she made her way over to Michael, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.
He winked at her. “Hey, baby girl. Glad you could make it. Did you see Marcus inside?”
“I did. And I met his beautiful wife. They look so happy together.”
Michael smiled. “They are.”
Manning came over, and he and Michael greeted each other with a brotherly pound and shoulder bump. Then Manning curved an arm around Taylor’s waist and turned her toward the fellas so he could make the introductions. “Baby, I’d like you to meet Percy, Jagger, Shokare, Gabriel, Liam, Khalil and Derek—otherwise known as the Morehouse Nine. Gentlemen, say hello to my lady Taylor.”
The fellas greeted her warmly, flashing white grins as they appraised her with frank male interest. Looking around at them, Taylor felt like she’d unwittingly wandered onto the set of some Hollywood movie. Not only were the men good looking, but two of them closely resembled the actors Idris Elba and Boris Kodjoe.
“We’ve known Manny since college,” said Percy—the Boris doppelganger. “He’s never introduced any woman as his lady.” He winked at Taylor. “You must be the one.”
“Way to state the obvious,” someone quipped, drawing a round of laughter.
A feminine squeal of distress had everyone glancing around to see a pretty brown-skinned sister fleeing from a tall, wickedly handsome man wielding a Super Soaker water gun. The petite woman had no chance of outrunning her long-legged pursuer, but that didn’t stop her from trying.
Taylor’s lips spread into a wide grin when she recognized the gun-toting hunk.
The woman raced over to them, giggling breathlessly as she took cover behind Manning. “You better stop playing, Q. I’m serious,” she warned, even as her dark eyes sparkled with merriment.
Quentin laughed and tried unsuccessfully to get around Manning, who stared him down with a scowl of exaggerated menace.
“Yo, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Manning challenged, the remark drawing attention to the fact that the two men were virtually identical in height and build. In their purple T-shirts and gold combat boots, they almost could have been twins—if one weren’t dark and the other light.
They stood toe to toe, eyes narrowed, lips curled into snarls. The standoff lasted all of ten seconds before they both erupted into laughter.
The woman rolled her eyes at Manning. “Some bodyguard
you’d
make.”
He grinned. “Sorry, Lexi.”
When Quentin finally looked at Taylor, his hazel eyes widened. “
Taylor?
”
She smiled. “Wassup, Quentin.”
Absently handing off the water gun to the nearest person, he stepped forward and swept her up in a vigorous hug that made her laugh. As he set her back down, he looked her over and whistled loud and long. “
Dayum
, girl. Look at you all grown up and fine.”
Taylor grinned. “You haven’t turned out too bad yourself, Mr. Reddick.”
Manning scowled. “All right. That’s enough.”
Everyone laughed.
“Hi, Taylor,” the woman pointedly introduced herself. “I’m Lexi.”
Taylor smiled, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you, Lexi.”
“Damn, my bad,” Manning muttered sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to forget my manners.”
“It’s okay. You were busy protecting your territory,” Lexi said, winking at Taylor.
Quentin slung an arm around Lexi’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head, then grinned at Manning and Taylor. “Lex and I were about to get our eat on. Why don’t you two join us?”
“Cool,” Manning agreed, lacing his fingers through Taylor’s. “Lead the way.”
As they followed the other couple toward the buffet table, Taylor whispered, “Are they together?”
Manning grinned. “Believe it or not, they’re just friends.”
“Really?” Taylor observed Quentin and Lexi, noting how close they walked together, how relaxed and comfortable they were in each other’s space. “They seem like more than just friends.”
Manning slanted her a wry glance. “Don’t let Lexi’s fiancé hear you say that.”
“She’s engaged?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.” Taylor shook her head slowly. “Poor guy.”
Manning quirked a brow at her. “Think so?”
Taylor thought of Aidan, and sighed. “I know so.”
At the buffet table, the two couples loaded their plates with food and then sat at one of the long picnic tables set up beneath a canopy. They were soon joined by Manning’s brothers and the rest of the Morehouse Nine, who had strong-armed Michael into relinquishing the grill to the caterer—who’d specifically been hired so he could relax and enjoy the cookout.
Everyone dug into the delicious barbecue with gusto. As they ate, they laughed and bantered with one another, the table rocking with several conversations at once. With each roar of deep male laughter, Taylor found herself looking around and marveling at the feast of eye candy.
She wasn’t at all surprised when clusters of women began sidling up to the table. They hovered around like hopeful groupies, fluttering their lashes, giggling at every joke and resting manicured hands upon broad shoulders. A few bolder ones managed to wiggle their shapely asses onto the laps of Percy, Jagger and Mason. While Michael had his own thirsty entourage at the other end of the table, several women pressed behind Manning and Quentin. When one busty bimbo coyly trailed her fingers down the back of Quentin’s neck, Lexi turned around and skewered her with a look. The woman scowled and sucked her teeth, but backed off.
When Taylor raised an amused brow at Lexi, she merely shrugged and quipped, “It’s a matter of respect.”
Seated beside Manning, Taylor wasn’t surprised to find herself the target of envious stares. When Manning pulled her onto his lap and kissed her cheek, the stares sharpened into vicious daggers.
Taylor felt like she was back in her high school cafeteria eating lunch with Manning and his teammates while other girls glared at her, wondering how on earth Manning could choose
her
over any of them. Their jealous stares and whispers had made her so uncomfortable that she’d squirmed in her seat, her fears and insecurities reinforced by the burning question in their eyes:
What does he see in you?
She’d never had a convincing answer. Not for her haters. And not for herself.
But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Grown Taylor knew her worth. And she knew she was beautiful. Confident. Powerful. Sexy.
She knew how to seduce a Wolf.
Emboldened by that thought, she stroked her finger through a puddle of barbecue sauce on Manning’s plate. When he looked at her, she brought her dripping finger to her lips and slowly, provocatively, licked herself clean.
Manning swallowed visibly, his eyes darkening with arousal.
As low exclamations of “
Dayuuum!
” went around the table, Manning looked like he didn’t know whether to spank Taylor for misbehaving—or spread her out on the table and ravish her.
Pressing his mouth to her ear, he growled huskily, “I’m gonna fuck you
so
good when we get home.”
She let out a throaty laugh. “Promises, promises.”
When the bimbos behind them flounced off, Lexi grinned admiringly at Taylor. “Now
that’s
how you shut ’em down.”