Crave: A BWWM Romance (13 page)

“How about just tit.” He teased as he start working my shirt up and over my head. He followed it with a quick snap of my bra. “Someday I’m going to use this to strap you to that headboard,” he teased. “Not today though.” He tossed the bra behind him where it landed in a pile of my clothes.

Part of me wanted to call the bra back. Why not today? Why not tie me up and fuck me? That’s what he wanted right? It’s what I wanted too. As he left his clothes on and started kissing his way down my body, I started to realize that fucking was not on the menu today. Today, we were dong something far scarier and more intense. We were making love.

He continued to kiss every inch of me, taking time to linger on my breasts where he sucked hungrily at them, flicking his tongue back and forth with enthusiasm. I allowed my self to stretch my arms upward and soak in the attention, moaning with every touch. When he eventually made his way back down to my pussy, he paused.

“This is a little redundant isn’t it?” He quizzical tone seemed almost genuine and I laughed again.

“Maybe we should try something else.” I winked.

“If you insist. I don’t want to get these clothes wrinkled,” he said as he quickly tore of his scrubby morning outfit.

He climbed on top of me. We were yin and yang entwining in all the right places. His hands ran down my sides while I ran up his back. He buried his face in my neck, nibbling at my earlobe, while I arched back and sighed, pressing myself into him. Our legs slipped together perfectly, mine on the outside and his on the inside. In fact, the only piece that wasn’t perfect was the one that counted. He continued to tease me, his impossibly hard cock pressing against me with agonizing ferocity.

He pulled up for a moment and looked me in the eyes, a look that calmed my movement. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

I was puzzled by this moment of sincerity. This was not the Cole Saunders that I had grown accustomed to. I guessed and feared that something more was happening here. It was a good fear though. The kind of fear that told me I was living exactly how Kaila hoped I would.

He pushed inside of me, filling me up slowly like a glass of wine. He worked in and out at an even pace, not poundingly fast, not torturously slow. He kept going, picking up the pace only slightly as both our bodies responded to the moment.

I widened my legs, making an effort to come up and meet him. He held me too close though. The best I could do was enjoy the ride. As we rocked and rolled together with his rhythm, I suddenly felt myself eager to take a starring role. I urged him backward and we rolled until I was on top, never breaking our connection for even a moment. I put my hands on either side of him and rose and fall, trying to match the pace he had set. His hands on my hips helped me to find the rhythm.

I loved seeing his eyes close and his head tilt back in its own expression of ecstasy. I loved being the cause of that ecstasy, to fill him with overwhelming sensations. If it were possible, it felt like he was getting harder inside of me and I soon felt myself approaching another climax. As I rode him, I felt my body shudder, my muscles spasming around his cock. I moaned and cried a little with the pleasure.

“Again?” He asked with a sly grin. “Don’t you think it’s my turn?”

“You snooze you lose,” I panted. I was still riding him, but the swelling inside of me from my recent climax was magnifying the sensation. I could barely contain each small cry.

“Guess I should stop snoozing.”

He pulled me down and we locked lips while we flipped me back around. Still, inside me he started pumping and a slightly higher rate. I cried out with each stroke. Every moment felt like an explosion inside of me. This only seemed to encourage him. Soon, he was the explosion inside of me. He bucked and pushed with magnificent force.

A moment later, he lay next to me. One hand was stretched out behind my head and the other lay on my stomach. He sat on his side, smiling at me in an entirely alien way. I smiled back. Sure, we’d had sex lots of times. But, this moment was new. We’d been robbed of this moment by anger, hatred, and fear. I closed my eyes and tried to enjoy every feeling from the warmth of his hand to the wetness of the sheets.

“Did that get you sufficiently out of your head?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“A girl sleeps with me and then thanks me. That’s a new experience.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.” He smile was soft this time. It felt more real than all of those goofy slick faces that he tried to make.

I reached up and pushed a stray piece of hair away from his face. “You know you’re really not such a bad guy,” I admitted.

“That’s what I kept trying to tell you.”

He bent down and kissed me again. Just a kiss, nothing after. That was the first time we’d locked lips with nothing more strenuous in mind. I put my hand on the back of his head, savoring that kiss, willing it to last forever.

T
hey say
that everything looks different in the morning. I’d never found that statement to be truer than it was this morning. Watching Moneka smile at me from her side of my bed, I sensed a fundamental change in our relationship. That’s not to say that women have never smiled at me or stayed over or whatever. However, I’d never smiled back or, if I did, it was never quite so genuine as it was this time. I suddenly felt like I could smile at Moneka every morning.

If it were possible, she looked even more beautiful this morning than she did after our first adventure. Her hair was perfectly messy and gave off a faint odor of sex and sleep. Her figure repeated that statuesque quality, shining like marble in the morning sun that slipped through my blinds. I could only imagine how I looked in comparison. The word sasquatch came to mind. I probably smelled like a sasquatch too.

“Hey there,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Good night’s sleep?”

There was that smile again. Like a hearth, it welcomed me home. Like a gaping pit, it looked like something I could fall into. Ambivalence suddenly overwhelmed my senses.

“The best.” My response felt a little automatic. For once, I felt unsure of what to say next.

“Good. Well, I should head over to the restaurant and make sure Sonia is still alive. Then I’m going to hit the hospital and visit Kaila.” She glanced at her cell phone.

“Yeah, I should visit Kaila too…you know.” The words felt like putty in my mouth. What were we doing? Talking about our days? It all felt so painfully domestic.

I watched as Moneka rose from the bed and headed to the shower, concentrating on her adorable ass as it wiggled out of view. Focusing on that ass, I willed myself to conjure up images from our last three forays. Sex. I held onto that word. Then I remembered the look on her face yesterday and how badly I wanted to comfort her. Something wasn’t adding up here for me.

“I’m just going to use one of the clean towels!” She called as she started the shower.

Had it been any other woman, I would be in there in a heartbeat, feeling her up under the hot rays of water. A warning signal in my belly told me to keep my distance from Moneka. I was about to cross a threshold that I was not prepared to cross.

Ignoring the voice in my head that dared to question why I should be afraid at all, I got up and cleaned out the coffee pot from yesterday. I was in the middle of preparing a new brew when Moneka walked in wearing only my Patriots towel.

“That was fast,” I choked.

“Well, duty calls. Sorry I have to run so soon.”

I struggled with myself for a moment. Part of me wanted to remember every piece of this amazing picture, but not because she looked hot in the towel. I wanted to remember it because it was Moneka, in my home, wearing my towel, and smiling at me. The realization that I wanted to see her again and that seeing her did not have to involve sex was beginning to creep up on me. Sure, I cared about her and sure, I wanted to sleep with her. Those two facts had been kept blessedly separate. Now, it seemed I could no longer compartmentalize them. It was all or nothing.

I prepared myself to dive in.

“Moneka?”

She paused in styling her hair with her fingertips and looked up at me.

“Yeah?”

“Well…the thing is…I mean.”

“Spit it out handsome.”

“Ha. Handsome. Yeah. Well, you see…”

I froze. There was no way I could express to her how I felt, not knowing the words to describe it. I didn’t think I loved her, at least not yet. But I more than liked her. I stood there, scrambling for a word to bridge the gap between love and like. Moneka scrunched up her brow.

“What’s up? You ok?” She moved slightly toward me.

“Uh. Yeah. I mean yes. I’m fine. I just want to tell you something about how I’m feeling.”

“Ok.”

She was expecting it. I could tell by the way her eyes widened in anticipation. She wanted me to tell her I loved her. Every time I tried dragging those words,or anything close to them, to the surface of my mouth, I felt like I was going to drown. They were alien to my vocal chords.

“Just, that I had a great time.” Rescued.

“Oh. Ok. Well, so did I.” Moneka returned to her hair. I scanned her for signs of disappointment. “Will we be having a great time again?” She finally asked, probing me for evidence of some kind of commitment.

“Umm. I mean I guess so. Sure, if you want to. Doesn’t matter.” My attempts at aloofness clearly upset her. After her face melted into a mask of hurt, confusion, and annoyance, I wanted nothing more than to put my head in the blender.

“Oh. Ok. Well, I guess you don’t care then.”

I opted for silence this time, imagining that anything my stupid brain could come up with would only make it worse. It turns out that silence can also make it worse.

“Right,” she continued. “You don’t care. So all that mushy crap yesterday about caring about me and wanting what’s best for me. That was just…mushy crap.”

“Moneka…”

“No, I get it. Loud and clear. You’re a jerk, and I'm the asshole for believing you cared about me.”

Moneka immediately turned on her heel and headed back toward the bedroom. Ostensibly, she wanted to get her clothes on for a quick exit. I thought about following her in there and trying to make it right. I saw any chance of seeing Moneka again dwindling on the horizon. Maybe, that was for the best. She was whiny and presumptuous. It would never have worked out anyway. Instead of trying to comfort her, I just stood there like a sack of shit, watching a pot of coffee fill up .

When Moneka was dressed and standing by the door, she paused for a moment. I thought she might say something more. Probably, she was deciding whether to call me a dick or a pig. Either would have felt fitting. Instead, she just left. What a fucking mistake. Right? I wasn't so sure. I was sorry for hurting her, but I chalked it up to a bullet dodged and poured myself a cup of coffee.

My phone started ringing as I sipped the coffee black, too distracted to dress it up with my usual cream and sugar. I grabbed it from the shelf where it was charging and looked at the ID. I didn’t recognize the local number and thought about not answering it. Then I remembered that my options were answering this call or sitting in uncomfortable silence with my joe.

“Hello?”

“Hey stud, it’s Kaila.”

“Kaila! Yeah, hey how you doing? I’m sorry I didn’t stop in your room yesterday; you were in and out. I was going to come by and visit today though.”

“No sweat. My right hand is doing ok and they let me use this sweet phone in my room.”
Her voice sounded a bit slurred.

“Ahhh. How're those painkillers treating you.”

“I plan on marrying them. Then we will buy a house in Boca Raton. We’ll have two kids, a little boy and a little blue pill.”

“Oooookay. You’re stoned. I’m glad you seem to be in such a good mood. How did you even remember my number? I don’t think you’ve ever called me.”

“And don’t you think we should change that. In truth, your Dad left me a list of contacts. He’s such a cool guy.”

I sipped my coffee and smiled, glad that Kaila had given me a ring. It was a welcome distraction from having to parse out my feelings about Moneka. I wrestled with myself over telling her how I felt about her sister.

“So, when are you going to treat my sis right huh?”

Great. Kaila’s forwardness decided it for me.

“Kaila, you’re high on pain meds. We’re not having this conversation right now.”

“Ok, I might be a little punchy this morning, they just changed my bag. It comes and goes though.”

“Well, let’s wait for it to go.”

“You are a big spoil sport. Whoops. Hold on.”

I waited patiently for Kaila to return. The coffee was roiling in my stomach. I put it down with distaste. Adding more coffee to my stomach would be adding more fuel to the fire. Right now, my insides were twisted with stress and the effort of trying to shut down my feelings for Moneka.

When I looked out the window, I saw a couple walking down the sidewalk. They were a young couple, I could tell by the way they still held hands. Of course, I’d never gotten to the post hand holding part. I’d never even gotten to the hand holding part. I tried to decide if they were happy. They seemed happy at least. Their expressions seemed peaceful and satisfied. Defective, that was me. I rolled off the assembly line too soon, before they could add that part that distinguishes love from fear.

“Phew. Nurse came. Wish they’d send that male one back in here. He was a treat.”

“Kaila, to answer your question, I just think we want different things. You know?”

Kaila paused for a moment. “Cole, nobody ever finds true happiness if they lie to themselves about what they want.”

Those words resonated with me and I was starting to feel more ill. How could I have treated Moneka like that? Right as that thought was sinking in, there was a knock at the door. I was a popular guy this morning. Phone in hand, I checked the peephole only to find Moneka Hart donning an expression of pure disgust.

“Kaila,” I said. “I’m going to have to call you back.”