Authors: Michele Kimbrough
A rapid knock at the door sounded. She smiled when she opened it and saw Preston standing there in a loose t-shirt, cargo shorts, and sandals. His long dreadlocks were tied back, and his five o’clock shadow had overtaken his goatee.
Preston stepped into the condo and pulled her body into his. His soft hands roamed up her arms, around her shoulders, then with one hand resting on the nape of her neck and the other twisted around her loose curls, he gently pulled her even closer.
For a long moment, they were still – breathing together, hearts beating in harmony, her breasts pressed against the warmth of his hard chest. She nestled her head on his shoulder and rested her hands on his slender waist.
“I’m here for my coffee,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.
She closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips anticipating his. With one hand still locked in the silkiness of her curls, the other cupping her chin, she felt his lips press against hers, softly at first, gaining intensity with each plunge and retreat of his tongue. His long, burning kiss left her trembling. She felt her body’s hot, wet response to his touch.
Breathe.
She had to remember to breathe. Her muscles were clenching, chest heaving, and heart racing.
Again, she was kissed by the softest lips, this time just below the ear.
Everything about him — his brown eyes and full sulky lips, his long, neatly lined dreadlocks, his perfectly commanding height — every inch of him seemed scrumptiously sexy.
He didn’t waste time with chitchat. He let his hands do the talking, the way he touched her soft smooth skin, caressing her sensuously. He unbuttoned her blouse, taking his time as if seeing a natural wonder for the first time.
When he reached the last button, he leaned down to kiss her neck, working his way to her slender shoulder and down to the ample mounds of her bosom, removing her blouse, allowing it to drop to the floor.
She felt his tongue circle her nipples, giving both equal attention. His tongue swirled around the areolae, sending sensations through her body. She tried hard to shake the wanton feelings that Preston evoked.
She loved that he was attentive. As each part of her body was revealed, he admired it like a piece of art.
He laid her down on the sofa, sliding her legs apart. Unzipping his pants and lowering his shorts, he released himself from the constraints of his boxer briefs. She was startled by his thickness. He worked his way down her body until she felt the light tickle from his stubble brushing against her inner thighs. As his tongue worked its magic, her head fell back with her lower lip between her teeth.
She rolled her hips in rhythmic submission to his tongue. She was silent outwardly, but inside, she moaned heartily, completely consumed by ecstasy. He felt her hot moisture against his lips like the smooth glide of a flowing creek.
Working his way back up, he tasted every part of her — her belly, her navel, her breasts, her neck. His throbbing hardness penetrated her, deeply, as he sucked on her lips. A moan escaped her without her realizing she’d let it go. Their bodies moved in tempo, like a choreographed rumba — hips thrashing, flesh clapping, muscles bounding, legs entangling.
Heat. Salty skin. Sweat. Rigorously pumping their bodies together. Their searing consummation had brought him to the brink of orgasm, but he held back. He waited until he felt her body quiver under his, with complete and totally gratification. He moved with slower, softer rhythms until they both lay exhausted and wet. Spent.
The bathroom shower came to a dripping stop and Preston stepped out.
Man, it’s hot,
he thought as sweat beaded on his chest before he could dry his body. The humidity was like cellophane on his face — suffocating. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stood gazing at the sunrise from the window that overlooked the lake. It appeared as if the sun had fallen off the edge of the lake, barely peeking over the horizon.
Preston smiled when he felt Iris’ arms wrap around his chest from behind, caressing him. He turned and kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids, her lips. She ran her fingers over the long surgical scars beneath his well-defined pectorals. He quickly grabbed her hand, moved it from his scars, and kissed it softly.
“Any coffee in this place?”
“You didn’t enjoy the
coffee
I gave you last night and this morning?”
He smiled, “First of all,
I
did all the giving… let’s get that straight right off the bat. Secondly,” he kissed her forehead, “I’m talking about
real
coffee… you know, from Juan Valdez. Ground from coffee beans, brewed into a coffee pot.
That
coffee. You got any of that?”
She chuckled, “Ah,
that
coffee. Yes. We have some. Come.”
He pulled the towel from his naked body and stepped into his boxer briefs, squatting a little to adjust himself comfortably in the snug underwear.
In the kitchen, they paused at the door. He rubbed her hair and whispered, “Are you sure we’re alone?”
She shrugged. “What does it matter? We’re all adults here.”
“But you’re virtually naked,” he said, looking at her bare breasts. The only article of clothing she had on was her thong.
“So?” she said and walked to the Keurig, choosing a robust brew for Preston. She put the K-cup into the machine and placed Idris’ favorite mug underneath.
Preston sat at the table by the window, his legs spread wide, slouching his body slightly in order to lean comfortably in the modern-styled chair. Iris looked at him as the coffee dripped into the cup. He winked at her.
When both cups finished brewing, she carefully sipped hers as she walked to the table and placed Preston’s cup in front of him. He held her hand and guided her onto his lap. Her breasts were almost level with his mouth. He kissed her breast and toyed with her nipple, flicking it with his tongue until it was hard. She set down her mug and wrapped her arms around his neck, shifting her body so she straddled his lap facing him, giving him full access to fondle her more purposefully. With both breasts in his hands, he kissed and licked and teased her until he felt a throbbing in his briefs.
“Um… are you trying to start something here?”
“You started it, woman, walking around in that thong, looking edible.”
She threw back her hair and kissed his mouth roughly — biting his bottom lip.
“Good morning,” Idris said as he entered the kitchen. “Don’t mind me. Just here for the coffee.”
Preston was startled. He held Iris close to him to shield her nakedness, but she pushed away.
“Hey Idris. This is Preston,” she said as she got up so that Idris could greet him.
Embarrassed, Preston stood — with a solid erection —and shook Idris’ hand.
“I didn’t know you were home,” she said, then kissed him on the mouth.
“I just got here. I stayed out last night.”
“What’s her name?” Iris pried.
He grabbed the coffee that had just finished brewing. “Nice meeting you, Preston,” noticing Preston was drinking from his favorite mug. “Iris… none of your business.”
“Likewise,” Preston said, looking at Iris.
“What?”
“What? What do you mean, what? You just stood here buck naked in front of your brother — and me, with my dick hard as hell…”
“Don’t be embarrassed. He occasionally walks around naked, too.”
“You know what? I don’t even want to know. Next time, wear a robe. For me, please.” He kissed her as he headed to the bedroom.
“Can I make you something to eat?”
“No,” he shouted from around the corner.
***
“Idris,” Iris said as she peeped into his room.
“What?”
“I really like this guy. Is it possible to have love at first sight?”
He shrugged. “You know I don’t believe in romantic love. I think love is a choice, not something that happens to you.”
“Someday, you’ll meet a woman who will change all of that,” she said.
“Go put on some clothes before that man goes berserk.”
Iris quickened her pace to a jog when she noticed the line of taxis dwindle down to two. She reached the cab just before a couple who walked with their arms locked around each other’s waist. It was a close victory as she put her hand on the handle just before they could claim the cab for themselves. She slid into the backseat and the cab whizzed away, dropping her off at Prudence’s mother’s brownstone fifteen minutes later.
Iris hurried up the stairs. She smoothed her hair, swept her bangs from her face, and approached the door, knocking softly at first, then harder. Trying the knob, it was unlocked, so she walked in and followed the voices which led to the kitchen.
“I just need to know what we’re eating. Your mom has no food here,” Jess complained.
“Pizza or Chinese?” Prudence asked while shuffling through a stack of menus she pulled from a kitchen drawer.
“You really need to update your music, Pru.” Jess said, sifting through the vast collection of downloads on Pru’s iPhone. “I mean, who even listens to house music anymore?”
“How about Thai?” Pru suggested.
“Michael Bolton? Really, Pru,” Jess laughed as she scrolled through Pru’s playlists.
“Come on, you said you’re hungry. What are we going to eat?” Pru asked.
“May I?” Iris offered, holding her hand out for the menus. Pru handed the stack to her and she rifled through until she landed on Chana Masala—Indian cuisine.
“What about this one? They deliver. Indian.”
“Sounds good, Iris. Call it in,” Jess said.
“What do you want?”
Pru’s mother, Audra, came into the kitchen to greet them. She was rather small, no more than five feet — maybe even five-two, but not much more than that. Her hips were wide with an ample derriere and a tiny waist. Her maxi dress flowed nicely over her curves, accentuating her sexy, slender femininity.
Following closely behind Audra was Pru’s father, John Clark. Their affair annoyed Pru because she knew it would be her mother who’d end up hurt once again. John kissed Pru on the cheek, greeted the others, and kissed Audra goodbye.
“Mom, do you remember Iris?” Pru said, kissing her mom on the lips.
“Yes, I do. It’s nice to see you again, Iris. How’s Peter?”
Pru shook her head, trying to stop her mother from asking, but it was too late. Iris smiled and said, “I’m assuming he’s fine. We’re divorced.”
Audra cut her eyes at Pru who gave a look of
“I tried to stop you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Iris. I’ve known Peter since he was a little boy. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine him as a man.”
“Since he was a boy? How’d you know him?”
“His father was in my unit — in the Air Force. I was his commander.”
“You were in the Air Force?”
She nodded. “I’m retired now, but yes.”
“Hey, Mama Payne,” Jess said as she stood to kiss her on the cheek.
“So, what brings you girls to my humble home?”
“Mom, we needed a place where we could just chill for a little while. We were going to do it at your café, but now everybody’s hungry for real food.”
“Well, I can whip something up for you girls if you’d like.”
Iris looked at Pru and Jess who were both nodding.
“I’m happy to help, Ms. Payne.”
“None of that Ms. Payne stuff. Call me Audra or Mom — anything but Ms. Payne.”
***
Pru and Jess were tipsy from the margaritas Pru had made and full from the appetizers Audra had prepared for them. They were listening to Audra’s old disco music, playing dominoes, and enjoying each other’s company. Iris, Pru, and Jess laughed and joked about things old and new.
Things took a somber turn when Pru mentioned Valerie. It had been three years since she buried her best friend and half-sister, Valerie Mayweather, and it had taken nearly all of that time to come to terms with her grief. Val was her go-to gal, the person she shared her secrets with and entrusted with her most heavy decisions. All of that was gone. Val’s death left a gaping hole that no one else could fill. She talked about her as if she’d knock on the door any minute. But now, Pru was marrying Val’s husband. Iris could see how much that bothered her, how conflicted she was. But in the end, her lifelong love for Richard would prevail.
Pru kept the margaritas coming. Iris wanted to consume a few cocktails but knew she’d get carried away. Jess said Pru made a mean margarita.
“Boneyard, baby!” Jess shouted as she slammed the double-six domino on the table, knowing that Iris didn’t have a six to play.
“Girl, every time you say that I get excited,” complained Pru.
“Boneyard, fool, not boner. You are obsessed with sex, Pru.”
“Jess, you gotta understand. It’s something about those Mayweather boys,” Iris said. “Well, I can’t speak for Richard, but Peter…”
“Surfboard. Surfboard…” Pru sang. “That’s all I’m saying,” she chuckled.
Iris laughed and sang the Beyonce song along with Pru, “Graining on that wood, I’m swerving on it…”
“I hated that song when it first came out, but it grew on me,” Jess admitted.
“I have it… a download, on my phone,” Iris said digging her phone out of her purse. She handed it to Pru who plugged it into her mother’s docking station with the speakers.
Pru and Iris danced together, mimicking Beyonce’s moves. Jess sat back watching, laughing, seemingly entertained by the two who obviously had at least one thing in common — the Mayweather brothers. When the song ended, they fell onto the sofa, laughing at their silliness. Jess allowed Iris’ playlist to continue. Next up, surprisingly, Kendrick Lamar’s “Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe”.
Pru and Jess looked at each other as the song began.
Iris shrugged, “Hey, I like it.”
They went back to the table to finish their game.
“Iris, I think I can say this since we’re both white chicks,” Jess began, but Iris threw her hand up to stop her so she could sing a couple more verses of Kendrick’s tune.
When Iris finished singing, she said, “I’m 50/50. Part vanilla, part chocolate. Not too many people know that about me. Not even Peter. My mother was white. So was my stepfather. There was no way anybody could know unless I told them. But my biological father was black. At least that’s what my mother told me. I never met the man.”
“Speaking of Peter,” Pru said. “There’s no chance you and Peter will work things out?”
“Do you hear the lyrics to this song? It says,
Bitch don’t kill my vibe
,” she laughed, “Peter married my so-called friend. So, no.”
Both Pru and Jess looked at Iris as she pulled one, two, three dominoes from the boneyard before she could play a six. It was a blank/six.
“When did this happen? Richard didn’t tell me that Peter remarried.”
“Richard may not know, so don’t tell him. Peter doesn’t know that I know his secret.”
“Girl, your husband — I mean, ex-husband — sounds lowdown,” Jess said.
“I’d been with Peter since I was eighteen years old. I met him at work. He frequented the restaurant where I worked. He was a sophomore in college, I’d just graduated high school.” She smiled at the memory. “He turned me out. I’d never had anybody love on me like that. I was hooked. Three years later, we went to City Hall to get married. Ten years after that, he threw me out like dirty bath water.”
Pru played a double-blank domino then got up to blend another batch of margaritas.
“I hope you took his butt to the cleaners, girl.”
“That’s another story, Jess. I just hired a new attorney my spons… a friend recommended.”
“I need a new man. I’ve been doing that online dating. Huge flop. These men are so needy. Not a masculine one in the batch. They are so emotionally weak.”
“I should introduce you to my brother, Jess. He needs a woman like you.”
“You have a brother?”
She nodded. “Idris. My twin brother. I might have a picture in my phone. I have to say, though, he’s kind of stubborn. He likes to be in control. And, he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. I think someone strong like you could mellow his behind out.”
Pru returned with a tray of margaritas. “Set them up, Iris. Jess needs a man in her life.”
“I need a
man
. Not a project. Idris sounds like a lot of work. No offense, Iris. I dunno.”
Pru sat down and nudged Jess to take her turn.
“My sweet, darling Holly’s been giving me the blues. It seems like ever since she turned thirteen, she’s been giving me a hard way to go,” Pru confessed. “It’s making it so difficult for me. There was a period of time where I actually thought about not marrying Richard. It would just be too problematic. The girls are getting old enough to understand what happened to their mother. To them, it looks like I’m trying to take her place. These days, Holly resents me for being there most of the time.”
“Those girls love you, Pru,” Jess said.
“They loved me when they were younger and when I was
Auntie
Pru, not soon-to-be
stepmom
. Holly is very vocal about me not being her mother. I keep telling her I’m not trying to be her mother. She’s so combative right now.”
“Well, isn’t that the nature of teenagers, especially girls?” Iris asked.
“Yes. But Richard won’t do anything to help the situation. He acts like nothing is going on. So I’m a surrogate mother of two daughters who resent that I’m about to be their stepmother. Well, Shannon isn’t so bad. She seems okay with it when Holly’s not around.”
Iris nodded. “That must be tough. But it will be worth it, Pru. You’re marrying your best friend, the love of your life. And you love his children. Despite their current behavior, they love you, too. Hang in there. Just be sure to enjoy your honeymoon because… well, you know.”
“Let me see a picture of Idris,” Jess said.
Pru shook her head. “It’s all about you, huh, Jess?” she said, laughing.
“You all are talking about men and children and whatnot. So, I want to exercise my options. Let me see this man.”
Jess slammed a blank/five on the table and Iris pulled three dominoes from the boneyard.