To Each Her Own (The Swirl Book 1) (12 page)

She nodded.

“Do it again.”

She did it again as far as she could, and on the way up, she stuck out her tongue, licking him like an Orange Creamsicle, and then she took him out of her mouth and licked his balls.

His whole body twitched, and his dick pulsated in her hand. He said, “I ain’t going nowhere. You couldn't run me off with a shot gun. Two hand sucking and stroking? The way you grip it. Oh this is home, alright. You are my woman. No more bullshitting!” He sounded mad but his face showed his thrill.

She went deep again, then faster, still giving him her big icy blue eyes. The sound his dick made traveling in and out of her mouth was loud and nasty and wet. She gulped and slobbered. “Uhn-wah, unh-wah, uhn-wah.”

He looked to be fighting it, grunting, “I’m about to shoot this down your throat.”

She did not back away. She felt her pussy dripping between her legs.

He groaned with a point of no return sound.

She took him in and swallowed his release, then she squeezed it, milking it, licking his tip until there was no more of his liquid seed to be drank.

She licked her lips and stood.

His face was frozen, his mouth was open, and his dick was still hard.

“You okay?” she asked, almost smiling.

He shook his head. With red, half-open, drunk eyes, he said,  and said, “Now, it’s your turn.”

She replied, “No.”

“Get on your back. I wanna eat you so bad. I’m telling you, I’ll come just from the taste of you. Let me make you come, baby.”

She shook her head and stepped around him, walking to the door. She put her hand on the doorknob while he stood with his hand on his stiff penis.

He asked, “It’s like that? Really?”

“Really.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll bet you’re about as moist as a snack cake right about now.”

Her lip quivered like she wanted to smile, but her face stayed straight.

He reached over and picked up his pants and underwear and stepped into them, all the while keeping an eye on her. “What are you afraid of?”

She sighed. “Maybe I’m afraid to love.”

“Shasta, life will teach us that there’s nothing better than love.”

She felt that the seriousness of the moment was about to go goofy. She looked down as she laughed. “You sound like Luther.”

He walked to her. “See, I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I know.”

He buckled his belt and said, “Okay, so . . .” he began to sing, “what in the world could you ever be thinking of? It’s better by far. So let yourself reach for that star, then go no matter how far, to the one you love.”

Shasta looked at him and smiled, moving her hand from the door knob. She got close to him and placed her head along his chest.

“Stop pushing me away.” He hugged her tightly, and said, “I wanna be loved.”

She closed her eyes and said, “So do I.”

“Good.”

She could hear his heartbeat thumping in his chest.

“Just don’t use the N-word when we argue.

“Ramón,” she popped him along his arm.

He added, “And babe, don’t worry about me quitting my job. I’m good. I had to prove to my father all of these years that I would work hard, but when I turn thirty-five in November, I get my inheritance.”

“Inheritance from what?”

“My dad. He’s a millionaire and I get half of my mom’s share.”

Her own heart thumped too in her chest, and it softened.

One more thing from her list.

Well off.

Chapter 15

Martinez, GA

That Saturday, the day after her last day at work, which had been capped off by employees giving her a farewell party in the break room, all except Tyson Bain, Shasta had been on the road for over two hours, driving from Atlanta to her father’s home in the West Lake subdivision in Martinez, Georgia.

At noon, with the sun shining bright, she pulled down Winged Foot Drive to the estate. It wasn’t the home she grew up in, but it was the home her father had recently bought, which was a one and a-half million dollar custom built home, barely ten years old.

She pulled into the circular driveway and turned off the ignition, eyeing the grand estate home that was nestled on five acres of land, surrounded by tall trees and a pond. There was a three car garage, a swimming pool, and a whirlpool, along with two thousand square foot of just patio area. And along the side of the house, hanging from along a tall, tall pole on the western porch area, was a large, confederate flag, flying high.

Shasta exited her car and grabbed her overnight bag and purse, then stepped up to the front door in her blue sundress. The tall, brown, double doors with thick Verona glass were not the doors that were there the last time she visited. She turned the brass knob without ringing the doorbell because her father had called to tell her to come right in. She had a key, but not for the new fancy door.

She stepped inside, hearing a chime from the alarm as she entered.
Front door, opened.
She stepped onto the ivory and gray, black diamond marble floors that led to the grand, custom designed two-story balcony foyer.

Shasta looked up at the spectacular 1920’s crystal fringe chandelier that hung above her, which her dad had bought in Italy. The décor of the home had a lot of crimson and gold, reflective of his years of being a member of the Kappa Alpha fraternity.

Shasta made her way into the magnificent gourmet kitchen, which was one of two kitchens. The one in the basement was just as large.

Shasta’s father, Edward River Gibson, exited from the elevator and stepped directly into the kitchen, walking up to Shasta, looking like he was entering a room full of people and he was about to give a speech. He always had the air of a politician, and the voice of a radio announcer.

He strolled in with a bit more of dip to his walk than she remembered, and he actually bowed to her as he stood in front of her, then hugged her tight, giving her a long, firm kiss along her cheek. “You look beautiful as always.”

She took in the scent of the same spicy, cinnamon, woodsy fragrance of Boss by Hugo Boss cologne he always wore, telling him, “Thanks. You look good, too, Daddy.” She looked closely at his face. “Are you getting younger?” From the last time she saw him when she noticed his wrinkles deepening and the vertical line between his eyes, it all seemed to look softer.

“Maybe I’m more relaxed and my face shows it.” He looked down. “But if my knees could answer that, they’d say ‘hell to the naw.’”

She laughed, as his hipness surprised her. “Yeah, right. You’re as spry as a man half your age.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” He took hold of her overnight bag and set it upon the bar stool that was in front of the six-by-eight, swirled Brazilian granite slab island.

Shasta’s dad was six foot five, slender, with light blonde hair cut close, and a full low beard. Behind his eyeglasses, his deep-blue eyes shone. He had on black jeans, a green golf shirt, and black Adidas slides. The muscles of his biceps showed themselves, and were that of a man half his age.

Shasta placed her purse along the island. “The house looks good, Daddy.”

“Thanks.”

“A few changes, I see. The front door for one.”

“Yeah. Got a deal on that door. With the other door, you could see right through the glass.”

“The other door looked just fine, Daddy.” She could only imagine what the new door had cost him. She faced him, smiling at his sight. “Tell me something. Why are you in this eleven thousand square foot home alone? Eight fully furnished bedrooms, seven bathrooms. Three stories, at your age? And as you say, with your knees?”

“That’s exactly why I have an elevator. And also, because I want it this way. I earned this house through hard work, you know that. It took blood, sweat, and tears. Each and every day, this house reminds me of just how blessed I am, and how hard I worked at starting my own company many years ago, and making it a success.”

“I can understand that. You did great. And yes, you have things. But Daddy, quality love, and time with someone are important, too, you know.”

“Like they say; been there, done that. I’m fine. Tell me though, why do people always assume that if you’re alone, you’re lonely?”

Shasta was reminded that she had just said the same thing to Maya. “True. But you’ve never told me about you having anyone special.”

He stepped to her and kissed her cheek again. “I have you. And as far as a woman who could be a companion, there is no one special. No one wants an old coot with bad knees.” He proceeded to the stainless steel refrigerator.

“Yeah, right. If there’s someone, you can tell me. Are you sneaking and creeping with one of the groundskeepers, or the pool girl, the maid, or perhaps even your chef. Is your chef female?”

“I no longer have a chef.”

“Yeah, but you skipped over the other three.”

He was tight lipped, grabbing a can of green tea from the top shelf.

“That’s all you’re going to say, huh?”

“You want some tea? You thirsty?”

“Okay, ignore it. Yes, I would, thanks.”

He pulled out another can and closed the door. “Can okay?”

“Perfect.”

He rinsed off the tops of the cans and brought one to her, popping the top. He then popped his.

She said after taking a sip, and then swallowing, “Oh yeah. It’s good and cold.”

He sipped too.

“Daddy, I have to tell you that honestly, I’d be scared to live here alone. I think the house in Evans was a better size for you. Your master was on the first floor.”

“Well I don’t it was better. Besides, I’ve got protection in a gun or two, and a serious alarm system, cameras.”

“You still don’t want a dog?”

“No, honey. That’d be like having a child. I’m done taking care of anyone but me.”

“Okay. Okay.” She sipped again. “I wanted you to know, I’m thinking about reaching out to Mommy while I’m here.”

“Good.” He drank from his can again.

“You talked to her lately?”

“Lately? Not even. Last time I talked to her, you were in high school. Try maybe two decades ago.”

“Daddy, I still don’t understand that. You two live less than twelve miles from each other. She’s only in Grovetown. Why is that?”

“She moved on. She took the bait. What is there to talk about?” His tone and expression were emotionless.

“Bait?”

“Ask her what that means.”

“Okay. But Daddy, people make choices, and I believe you can never forget the part of them that made you fall in love with them in the first place. She can’t be all bad.”

“I didn’t say she was all bad. She made her bed, let her lie in it. She left me, not the other way around.”

“True.”

“Besides, how many of your exes are you in touch with just because you want to honor the part of you that made you fall in love with them?” He waited for her to answer, tossing a look like he knew he was right.

“Fine. It just seems that ever since she left us, to me, you’ve shut down.”

“Shut down? Dear, I was running companies, working sixteen hours a day until a few years ago. I retired early, and I’m still handling my business. I’m only sixty-nine. I’m fine.”

“Really though, what about love, Daddy?”

“Women are nothing but trouble.” He guzzled his tea.

“Oh, we are, huh?”

He pointed to her with his can. “You, my lovely daughter, are the exception to the rule. You’re educated and taking care of yourself, not looking for a handout. A lot of these women are just looking for a sugar daddy. I don’t have time for that?”

She put her can down and leaned back against the island. “So, do you still go to church? There are surely church women who wouldn’t be looking for a man’s money.”

“Oh that’s where you’re more likely to find them.”

“I doubt that.”

“I know that.” He nodded fast.

“When was the last time you went to church?”

“The last time I went to church was the last time a woman tried to get me to buy her a car after I struck up a conversation. That was about six months ago.”

“What?” She grinned just from imagining it.

“Yeah. She came right out and asked me to buy her a Lincoln that her neighbor was selling. Said she’d pay me back, and I was like, not even.”

“That’s not good.” She picked up her can again and drank. She looked at him. “I’m just trying to picture you striking up a conversation with a woman.”

“Oh, I know how to do it, now. Don’t let my age and a few wrinkles fool you. I can catch.” He gave a suave glance.

“I’m quite sure you can.”

He leaned against the island. “So what’s going on with you at work? Things good.”

She went over to the sink and opened the under cabinet. “Do you still recycle cans?”

“No. Just toss it.”

She put the can in the trash, and closed the cupboard, turning back around. “Daddy, I quit that job.”

He asked with an edge, “What? Why? And how in the world did Tyson ever allow you to do that?”

“I got tired of it. Too many office politics.” She headed back over to him.

“No way. You loved that job, and the company.”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Edward strolled to a corner desk in the kitchen and grabbed the cordless from its base. “Quit? You might need to rethink that. I assume you have another job, even better.”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

He looked at the display. “Speaking of Bain, that’s Tyson calling now. One minute dear.”

Shasta gave more of a smile than she wanted to, and her heart agreed. Nervous. She looked around the kitchen, her mind sprinting, wondering how much of a coincidence this could be, then she looked back at her dad, smiling again.

He pressed a button and put the phone to his ear. “Hey there Tyson B. How are you, big guy? Good. Good. I’m sitting up here with Shasta now. She’s here for a while. We’re getting caught up on things.” He waited. “Okay. Yeah, sure. What is it? Uh-huh.” He listened. “Uh-huh. Yeah.” He raised his brows. “She what?” He looked dead at Shasta and his brows fell. “Yeah, she told me she resigned. And?” He waited. “Who?” He listened. “You have got to be kidding me. You aren’t lying are you?” He waited. “That’s crazy. No way she’d do that.” He snatched his eyes from her and turned his back. “She’s dating who?” He waited. “What?” He listened. “And why are you telling me this? Why are you bringing this to me? I don’t believe a word of it. She’s right here in my home after doing that? Tyson, I’ve got to go.” He hung up, set the phone on the desk, and turned to face her. His face was pissed. Without even a question for her, he proceeded to say, “I’ve raised you pretty much by myself, and since very early on, there have been certain values that I’ve instilled in you. There have been certain moral standards that I talked to you about and you agreed with. And now that you’re a grown woman, you’ve decided to go against my wishes, my beliefs . . . and date outside of your race? Is this true? Please tell me it’s not, Shasta Ann Gibson.” If looks could kill, she would have been deceased.