Wicked Games: An Erotica Novella
Wicked Games: Chapter 1

“I need you out in sixty days.”

Life was funny sometimes. Not in the haha —I’m having fun being here type of way, but in the way that made me feel as if I was a big fucking joke. I just knew the universe and everybody in it were laughing at me.

I had spent the better part of my life raising my sister Julissa as if she were my own child because our mother had better things to do. Don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t completely selfish. She worked long hours as an ER nurse, fixing broken people and saving lives. I admired her for that, but everything else she did was for herself. Disappearing for days with her doctor boyfriend —was for her. Going to the club in her free time with her friends—was for her. Anything that didn’t involve raising her kids she was there for.

She was neglectful but not completely careless though. We always had clean and new trendy clothes and shoes. We lived in a four-bedroom house in a nice neighborhood. We had tutors, so we excelled in school. We had a maid that came by twice a week so the house was always clean, and we never went hungry. Still, kids need more than that to thrive! Such as affection, attention, and emotional support.

In her absence, I thought it was up to me to make sure Julissa never felt as if our mother cared more about living her life than shaping ours. I was well aware of the fact and it hurt.

I never got a chance to confront her about it though. Before she even turned forty —breast cancer had ravished her body and took her life. When she died, I started to think that maybe she could feel that she only had a brief time on this earth. I couldn’t be mad at her for living life when I thought about it like that. She spent a couple of years of fighting, but then she just woke up one morning and said no more, she gave up. She rejected the chemo and meds.

I still resented her for that part. I had just turned eighteen and was left with the burden of actually raising a spoiled, undisciplined thirteen-year-old on my own before I even knew how to be an adult — and I had to do it without help. All the money my mother had made and saved was gone. Her life insurance had lapsed so we got nothing from that. I couldn’t afford the hefty mortgage on our house and we were ninety days from being homeless. Julissa’s daddy stopped answering the phone as soon as he found out he might have to take care of her. He was a music producer doing well for himself, he wasn’t about to give that up to raise a child.

The culmination of all those events had led me to Malcolm.

Ironically, I met him the day I graduated high school. He was the brother of one of the kids who also graduated. Six weeks after that, I had given him my virginity, moved into his house, and married him. I did it all just so Julissa and I would never want for anything.

Now as an adult, I know a twenty-six-year-old man had no business even talking to an eighteen-year-old girl. Let alone fucking, marrying, and ruining one. But my age was probably what attracted him to me. I was naïve, desperate and easily manipulated.

At first I was grateful for Malcolm, he did everything right. He was incredibly supportive in everything I wanted to do, spoiled me, and took care of Julissa like she was his own child. About two years into our relationship that all changed. He became the catalyst for the worst times in my life. Despite his best efforts to beat me down to nothing, I had survived eight years with him and had been free of him for eight months.

After our divorce, I did the work to fix myself.

I went to therapy. My therapist, Zane said she was surprised at the fact that I didn’t have any of the usual long term psychological side effects that came along with being an abuse survivor, like PTSD, or depression. I had side effects and all types of issues, but they just weren’t what she thought they should have been and I wasn’t going to wear them on my sleeves for the world to see. I just needed her to fix me so I wasn’t afraid anymore. She did when she suggested I get my license to carry. That ended our discussions about Malcolm.

I stayed in therapy six more months after that, working on my mamma issues. Eight months in and everything was moving along smoothly. I was just getting to a place where I felt as if things were looking up for me, but I was wrong. Because in this moment, I was sitting at my sisters kitchen table, listening to the girl I had practically raised, tell me that I had to leave her house because she was mad.

That was fine. I didn’t want to be there anyway. The environment was toxic. I told myself I wasn’t ever again dealing with fussing and fighting where I had to lay my head.

I would have been okay with a sixty-day notice If she had come to me with some type of decorum and asked me to leave. Instead, she was losing her fucking mind. Pacing. Rolling her neck, clapping her hands all dramatically up in my face as her bushy ponytail bounced back and forth and the too short black leather mini skirt she was wearing shimmed it’s way further and further up her thin hips with every angry step she took.

I would never do her like she was doing me. But we were so different on every level, physically and personality wise. Because we had two different fathers —both of whom had nothing to do with us — we looked nothing like each other.

My father was black as night, big and sturdy. I had taken after his side of the family. Standing at five eight, one hundred and ninety pounds — I had at least five inches and sixty pounds on Julissa who was a combination of both our mother and her father. She was tiny, but curvy, like our mom, but looked mixed race because she’d got her light skin and curly hair from her afro Latina father. I was brown, like iced tea, with full round breast, meaty thighs, a high round ass and thick, kinky hair that I kept long and natural. No less beautiful than Julissa, just simply different.

No one who ever found out we were sisters believed it at first. Not until they caught a glimpse of our almond shaped, whiskey-colored eyes. All the women on my Momma’s side of the family had the same eyes.

Our appearances weren’t our only differences.

Julissa had zero work ethic; she had a job but was barely hanging onto it. I kept a job.

She was entitled and selfish. I sometimes gave too much.

My attitude was also better. Which was saying a lot, I didn’t exactly have the sunniest disposition, but Julissa was worse. She often came off as obnoxious. She thought too much of herself, despite the fact that she hadn’t really achieved anything in life, but she was gorgeous and to her —that was more than enough reason to look down her nose at people.

“Bitch,” she spat.

I blinked hard at her calling me out of my name, wondering why. I hadn’t exactly been listening. Hell, I wasn’t all too sure how I had set her off. All I had done to incur her petty wrath was ask her to ask her boyfriend to come over less or tell him if he couldn’t stay away that he had to contribute to the grocery bill or the electric bill or something. I couldn’t afford to take care of the six- five, two hundred plus pound basketball player. He ate like a fucking horse and he was always over our apartment, eating. And it was always my food.

He knew Julissa couldn’t cook and he knew she sure as hell didn’t buy groceries since he was always bringing her food from one restaurant or another, so I don’t understand why he thought it was ok to eat anything that he had to know belonged to me without asking or at the very least, giving back.

Don’t get me wrong, my momma had raised me well enough to know the basic rule of sharing is caring, but at the moment my struggles were real. I had left my abusive marriage with nothing but the nearly broken-down Nissan I had gone into the relationship with because I didn’t want Malcolm to have any excuse to stay in contact with me. I had sold my wedding ring and the jewelry he had given me. I gave Julissa the fifteen thousand from the sell.

I was flat out broke and only working part time as a mail clerk in a law office, while attending my first year of law school. I had no extra to give and nobody to ask for help when times got hard. Julissa had always been selfish and remained that way so I never bothered with asking her for anything. My ass could barely afford to feed myself, so I sure as hell couldn’t afford to feed my sister’s mountain sized boyfriend too.

Was it too much for me to ask for him to contribute? I didn’t think so.

But the argument over her boyfriend eating my food wasn’t my only grievance with my sister. She was nasty. She would leave dirty clothes and dishes all over the house and I’d end up cleaning it up because I couldn’t deal with filth. Another side effect of Malcolm, he wanted our home spotless and would beat me if it wasn’t. On top of being dirty, she was rude. She would stumble into the house all times of night waking me up knowing I had to work the next day. There were also betrayals over the years I tried not think about often.

“Maybe, if you worried more about your marriage and less about me and my man you wouldn’t be in this predicament confronting your jealousy. You should just apologize to Malcolm.”

I jerked my head back. My breath hitching in my throat caused me to nearly choke on my shock. With wide eyes, I stared at her. Had she actually just said that to me?

Apologize for what? Not dying when he tried to beat me to death.

Although the worst of the abuse had taken place once she moved out and she never actually witnessed him beat me— she knew how he was. She had witnessed him berate me and throw things. She had also seen the results of the last beating he gave me. He had beaten me so badly that night, the house staff had gone against his rules and called the police. He told them I fell. They knew he was lying. The police encouraged me to press charges, and half his house staff quit and told me they would testify on my behalf if I did. Not wanting to make things worse for anybody, I told the police I fell, but I took the staff’s help. They smuggled most of my personal things out of Malcolm’s house when they left.

The hospital social worker put me in touch with a legal aid lawyer who filed a restraining order on my behalf and drew up my divorce papers.

All that and she tells me I should apologize and try to work things out with him?

I wanted to scream at her. No. Really, I wanted to punch her in her big fucking mouth. I folded my hands into my lap under the table but didn’t bother to hide the scowl on my face.

Julissa noticed my anger. She shifted uneasily from one foot to another.

I snickered at her fear and the fact that she thought I could ever envy her. I wasn’t jealous of her or anything she had. I could see she was heading in the wrong direction. Using men for money was going to land her in the same type of relationship I had found myself in with Malcolm. I wasn’t going to tell her any of that though. She wouldn’t listen so it wasn’t worth the energy it would have taken to express myself.

“I’m not trying to be mean, Tempest.” She paused to give me a slight disarming smile. Which did the opposite of relaxing me, it pissed me off. My new quick temper was another of the side effects of living with Malcolm so long.

“But Jason will probably propose soon and want me to move in with him and you can’t afford this place by yourself anyway.”

I almost laughed in her face. I had a better chance at moving in with Jason than her.

I had heard enough. I blocked her out again. Mentally, I started plotting and planning. Sixty days wasn’t long and I would be starting over for the second time in a year without very much money. I needed a solid plan

Fuck my life. I should have only given her half of that fifteen grand.

“Tempest.” Julissa Called my name interrupting my thoughts.

I looked in her direction. She had moved to right outside of my reach. Good decision.

“Whatever you say, Julissa.” I had no idea what she had said. Didn’t care either. Not wanting to talk to her let alone be in her presence any longer, I rose from my chair and left the kitchen while she was still running her mouth. I had just gotten off work and all I wanted to do was shower and catch a nap, since eating was out of the question. I’d come home to an empty refrigerator. Which is what had started the argument she was having with herself..

“Call Malcolm!” she yelled after me.

I had to fight off blind rage and the urge to go back in the kitchen and beat her ass. I would sleep in the street before I called Malcolm. Fuck him and her.

Somehow, I managed to calmly close my bedroom door and gather my things for a shower, all while clenching my teeth so hard they hurt, to keep from screaming. I made my way to the bathroom in the hallway and stripped down.

As I showered, I thought about just packing my shit and leaving that night. I had a co-worker, Cameron, with a spare bedroom. I knew I could stay with him. He had a little crush on me and had offered me the room every time I complained about Julissa. But if I did that—Julissa would never learn that the world didn’t revolve around her. I was leaving, but before I did, she was going to feel my motherfucking wrath. I was tired of letting people get away with hurting me without any repercussion.

When I got out of the shower, I already had an idea of how I would get back at Julissa. She would have a fit if she thought I had any type of chance with her man. Jason was on his way to the NBA and everybody knew it, Julissa had basketball wife dreams.

I was about to seduce him because I knew I could. I was going to flash him a little skin and get a little too friendly with him. Lead him on. Ruin their relationship. Was what I was about to do mature? Maybe not, but it was better than just outright beating her ass like our mother should have. I wouldn’t take it as far as actually having sex with him. I just wanted to show her that all she’d ever dreamt of could be taken away so easily.

I dried myself before leaving the bathroom and going back to my bedroom. Grabbing my sugar plum body butter from my dresser, I applied it. Showing my thick thighs, forty- two double d breast and rounded behind extra care, so my skin would glow.

The entire time I could hear Julissa talking loudly about me to whomever she was on the phone with. “Yes, I told her she had to leave. She’s probably the reason Jason hasn’t been wanting to fuck. She’s always around — looking all bloated, homely, hungry, and sad, ruining the mood.”

Wow, I thought, that’s how my own sister felt about me? And she was talking so loudly, I knew she wanted me to know. I was too numb to be sad. But I did feel vengeful.

After making sure every inch of my skin was moisturized. I tied my red silk robe around my thick waist. Before glancing at the clock, it read ten, I had thirty minutes to wait before putting my plan into action.

Laying in my queen sized bed, I grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels. My thoughts kept distracting me from the show I settled on. You ever know you’re about do something you shouldn’t be doing and your conscience keeps trying to make you not do it? Well, that was my current dilemma, The little voice in the back of my head was telling to just let my anger go. I thought about. But then I was like fuck it, be petty.

Exactly thirty minutes after my plan came together, the doorbell rang. Right on time. Jason was never late.

I crept out of bed and over to the door, pressing my ear against it. Ear hustling hard. I heard Julissa tell Jason to wait while she finished packing her bag for work. She was a CNA at a local nursing home. She worked doubles three nights a week, which netted her just enough money to buy her expensive clothes and shoes. She’d party the rest of the week. Everything else she needed was purchased for her by the men she was dealing with. When I tried to warn her about living life so dangerously and, depending on other people for her survival — It had gone in one ear and right out of the other. So I let her be.

I waited until I heard the front door close, I knew I had at least twenty minutes before Jason returned, so I took my time walking around the house turning off all the lights Julissa’s left on. I had repeatedly asked her bobblehead ass to stop leaving every fucking light in the house on when she left, but she continued to ignore me, which was yet another reason, I wouldn’t miss her.

When all the lights, but the one in the living room were off I went about setting the mood. I lit all the candles I had and strategically placed them around the room for ambience, then I put Ari Lennox Shea Butter Baby on repeat on the Bluetooth speakers. Her silky voice and the smell of lavender set the vibe for my deception. After everything was done, I cut off the one remaining light, laid down on the sofa, untying the belt on my robe. It wasn’t long before I heard keys jingling. After dropping Julissa off at work Jason would always come back to our apartment to chill and sleep until it was time to pick her up the next morning.

I’d overheard him telling Julissa he’d spent so much time over at our place because he didn’t like sharing his apartment with four other big ass men that were on his college basketball team. I wouldn’t have minded if he came over and went straight into Julissa’s room, but no, he’d spend all his time in the kitchen and the living room. So then I’d be stuck in my room because I didn’t feel comfortable sharing a space with him alone.

When I heard the door open, I shut my eyes tightly and regulated my breathing. I kept my eyes closed, until the TV clicked on then I cracked them slightly and was able to watch as Jason descended, he nearly sat his full weight on to me. Just before he did, he jumped up…

From my slitted eyes, I could see he wore a horrified expression. His face was bright red, even his throat and the tip of his ears were burning bright. I slammed my eyes back shut.

“Oh shit, my bad!” He shouted.

I held my grin back. I wanted to laugh so bad.

He cursed again and I pretended to startle awake. Gradually, I opened my eyes.

With a fake yawn and stretch, I sat up. I looked up at him from my spot on the sofa and faked an apology.

“I’m sorry, I was so tired, I fell asleep out here.” He opened his mouth to respond but whatever he was about to say died on his lips when he noticed my state of undress. The weight of his eyes caused my skin to prickle with awareness.

His gaze fell from my breast and traveled down. I pretended not to notice them get stuck on the triangle between my thighs or the way he licked his lips.

I should have stopped there but I took it a step further. I honestly had done enough, but I could admit to myself I was getting a slight high from the desire I saw in his eyes.

“Let me get out of your way,” I stated while I stretched my back, arching towards the heavens. I let my robe fall all the way open, giving him a full-frontal view. I had made sure to shave my pussy bare, so I knew it looked fat and inviting. I counted to five before feigning embarrassment and fake apologizing again.

“Oh gosh. I can’t believe this is happening.” I wasn’t even a good actor, I sounded phony as hell, but he didn’t seem to notice.

I waited until I was sure he got a good look before pulling my robe back together and tied it around my waist. I’m so sorry,” I apologized again as I rushed past him with my head down, making sure I purposely brushed against the tented area of his basketball shorts with my hip, as I made my way towards my room.

He hissed deep in his throat like my touch had burned him.

Once I was in my room, I peeked out at him through the cracked door. Standing in the middle of the living room, he looked utterly lost and confused about what had just taken place.

I giggled to myself and quietly closed my door, before fully disrobing and getting into bed. Phase one of my plan was complete.

Unfortunately, the next day guilt was riding my back like a deranged monkey. I was really torn up about what I’d done the night before.

I really was a good person and knew it was wrong to involve Jason in petty squabbles with my sister. When the animosity between my sibling and I ran deeper than him eating my food.

I felt like she had played a part in robbing me of childhood and eight years of my life. Logically, I knew she wasn’t responsible for any choices I had made but sometimes I would think if it wasn’t for her I’d have an entirely different life.

I decided to try to work everything out with my sister in a civil and mature manner. After work, I went to the store and picked up ingredients for a shrimp boil, because I knew she liked those, it was the only thing she ever ate outside of fast food.

When she came home from wherever she had been, with a funky ass attitude, I regretted making the effort and sure as hell I didn’t want to talk to her anymore, but I tried anyway. When I told her how her words regarding Malcolm had hurt me — she had the unmitigated gall to not only ignore me but to roll her beady eyes at me, while eating the food I had bought and cooked for her. I was hell hot. I wanted to snatch her little ass across the table, but I decided instead to go back to my original plan.

When the doorbell rang at seven that night, I waited again until Jason and her left, heading to work. I went into the kitchen wearing the tiniest pair pajama shorts I owned. They barely covered my ass cheeks. My thick, toned thighs were on display. The white wife beater I wore without a bra was tight enough to hold my breast up so they looked plump and firm.

Pulling out chicken I’d prepped early I started lining them in my baking dish. I was making baked buffalo wings because I knew they were Jason’s favorite. Whenever I made them no matter how many I left he would eat all of them. The way to a mans heart is through his stomach, right?

Jason was back about fifteen minutes later. I heard the tv come on. I moved around behind the closed kitchen door as quietly as I could. Cutting potatoes into fries I seasoned them and put them along with the wings in the oven. I sat at the kitchen table with my kindle and waited.

Lost in my reading, I heard Jason but didn’t acknowledge him when he entered the kitchen. He came to stand right next to me invading my space. He smelled sinful. I needed him to give me some space before I embarrassed myself and sniffed him.

I leaned back, relaxing into the leather high back chair further away from him, but not by much.

“It smells good in here, what are you cooking, Beauty?” The word beauty came out in a smooth rasp that washed over me and made me nervous.

“Chicken.” I one worded my answer to him, not taking my eyes from my book. I didn’t want him to know how much his closeness affected me or to say too much and seem suspect. Jason and I never really spoke to each other whenever he came over. I didn’t want him thinking anything was out of the ordinary.

I side eyed him.

He stood awkwardly, waiting for me to further acknowledge him.

“Since you won’t offer, I’ll ask. Do you mind if I sit and break bread with you?”

I wanted to get smart and tell him to take his ass home and eat the food he bought. I kept the words from rushing out my mouth by biting the inside of my cheek.

I gave him a fake, long suffering sigh. “The food is not done yet, but when it is, I don’t mind. “I answered, still not looking up from my tablet, but I observed him out of my peripheral vision.

I had to admit, he was handsome. His lightly tanned skin, square jawline, piercing green eyes and thick bow shaped lips made him so. His curly short brownish red hair was tapered at the sides. The 90’s R&B slit in his eyebrow added some much-needed edge to him. He looked a few years older than his twenty-two years of age, courtesy of the scruffy beard and mustache that framed his smooth baby face.

What stood out most about him was the tattoos that littered his long body. Both of his muscular arms were covered from shoulder to wrist.

They were sexy as fuck and it kept him from being a straight up pretty boy.

I personally liked the pyramid with the eye of Horus on his neck the most. It was ironic because his name was Jason, which meant healer. His tat represented restoration, health, and protection. I had brought it up once and he turned the conversation awkward by making it seem as if I had been researching him specifically instead of just being an avid reader.

He shifted from one foot to the other and I got a glimpse of his tatted-up abs. Phoenix wings in pitch black ink. For just a second, I wondered what it would feel like to trace the inked skin with my fingertips or my tongue.

He cleared his throat, drawing my eyes to him and snapping me out of my thoughts that had gotten out of hand.

A smirk curved his lips and I realized that I had not been as inconspicuous as I thought I had been while checking him out.

I ran my tongue over my teeth then rolled my eyes at him.

“Are you going to sit down or stand there staring?”

He mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“Say it clearly or you don’t say it at all.” I rebutted.

“If I wanted you to know what I said I would have spoken clearly, but you aren’t ready to hear what I have to say….” He snickered.

The corded muscles in his arms bunched and flexed under his shirt as he adjusted his low on his hip basketball shorts before walking over and sitting opposite of me. The next ten minutes passed in silence. I could feel him watching me. His scrutiny had me trying my hardest not to fidget.

Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore I looked up from my Kindle “Why are you staring at me like that?” I snapped.

“How am I staring at you?” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. I don’t know if he meant for it to be sexy, but it was. Or maybe it was because his eyes seemed to be screaming I’d fuck the shit out of you if you gave me a chance. Or maybe I was imagining it all.

I smacked my lips. “Never mind.”

He continued to stare a hole into me. I went back to pretending to read my book.

The silence lasted longer this time, becoming uncomfortable but I refused to speak. He must have felt it too because he did speak up.

“So…”

So…” I parroted him, putting my kindle down onto the table, I gave him my full attention.

“Sorry about the other night,” He apologized.

“What are you talking about?” I pretended.

He licked his lips nervously. “You know, the robe,” his eyes dropped to my breast and remained there as he continued talking, “waking you up.”

His tone wasn’t apologetic at all and I got the impression he was using an apology as just an excuse to bring it up.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal.” I waved him off as got up from the chair. Walking over to the oven, I opened it and bent over to check the food. I knew I had another fifteen or twenty minutes before I had to do anything, but it was a good excuse to show my ass, literally. I could feel the chilly air and his eyes on my bare cheeks.

“Food should be done in a minute,” I said, turning to replace his eyes had been glued to my ass. I kept acting as if everything was normal.

“You must be excited to be finished with school?” I made small talk. Not caring about his response at all, I changed the subject before he could start talking about himself.

“You want wine?”

He nodded “Uh yea, wine is good.” His voice was strained. I could see him trying to adjust his hard dick under the table without me noticing.

I pulled out a bottle of Moscato from the fridge and two wine glasses from the cabinet, I poured both glasses full, handed one to him and sat down adjacent to him. I situated myself so my breast sat on the kitchen table. Again, his eyes got stuck on them until he noticed me watching him. He quickly averted his gaze. Raising his glass to his full lips, he took a sip. He grimaced, placing the glass on the table, and sliding it in my direction “not to be rude, but this is not for me.” he shook his head, “you got something stronger than this?”

He looked like he needed it.

“Yeah.” Getting up, I made my way across the kitchen. I hated hard liquor but I knew Julissa had henny and gin stored away for company. I chuckled to myself because they were both under in the cabinet under the kitchen sink. He was making it easy for me to tease him.

Bending down again, I spread my legs slightly, so my pussy print could be seen prominently from behind. I got the response I wanted. A sharp intake of air and groan. I knew his eyes would remain where I needed them, so I took my time. When I stood I had both bottles, I gave him a choice between the two with looking back, holding one on either side of me.

“I’ll take the Henny.”

So, you know what that meant? I had to put the gin back in place. I bent and he cursed out loud. I was on the verge of laughing but held it and composed myself enough to get him a shot glass. I poured it damn near full, then got right in his personal space, nearly straddling one of huge muscular thighs as I set it in front of him.

I picked up the glass he’d discarded. I brought it to my lips and took a sip while he watched.

He had this pained expression on his face. That was hilarious to me.

“No use in wasting it.”Holding his gaze, I tilted my head so he got a clear view of my face. I licked my lips. He studied every movement my tongue made, his eyes tracking it.

“You’re crazy if you don’t like Moscato. It’s so good” I moaned, laying it on thick. The pulse in his neck picked up speed in response, his eyes darkened.

I waited a beat before stepping away and retaking my seat.

I watched him from underneath my lashes, across the table. He raised his glass and took a large gulp. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and I wondered how he’d react to me sucking his Adam’s apple. The thought made my mouth feel dry.

“Tempest?” His deep voice wrapped around my name. His tone drew my eyes from his throat to his face. The muscles in his jaw were so tense, l could tell was grinding his teeth.

I cleared my throat. Yeah?”

He didn’t say anything right away. But when he did I wasn’t expecting what he asked.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” it wasn’t a question; it was an accusation.

“Excuse me?” I dropped my eyes.

He tapped the table with his fingertips.

“You heard me. Are you fucking with me?”

He waved his arm around. “All this. Ass cheeks out. Your robe accidently coming open. You did all that on purpose, didn’t you? You’re playing with me.”

“What are you accusing me of?” I asked, trying to sound as indignant as possible. I didn’t even sound convincing to my own ears.

I could tell by the cock of his brow he didn’t believe me.

Propping his elbows onto the table he leaned towards me. “I don’t even know why I asked. I know this is a game to you. You’re fucking with me to get back at your sister.” He nodded. “That’s fine. We can play. But not until you admit what you’ve done.”

My breath quickened as I watched his entire demeanor change. It was as if a switch had been flipped and after months of playing the character of a dutiful, dull boyfriend, he was back to his old self-assured and confident self. His muscles flexed under his white t-shirt as he stood to his full height. It suddenly felt like he was taking up all the available space in the small kitchen and, taking charge.

“There’s nothing to admit. It’s all in your head,” I denied. Glaring up at him.

He chuckled. “I’ve been practically living here for almost six months and you wouldn’t acknowledge me no matter how many times I tried to engage you. I could barely get a hello back. I’ve practically begged you to talk to me on more than a few occasions and you’d run off to your room like a scared rabbit or leave the apartment all together. Now all of a sudden, your sister pisses you off and you have time for me? Not to mention you’re running around with all your pussy and titties hanging out for my viewing pleasure.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” He smiled one of those southern boy smiles that get panties wet as he dragged his fingers through his beard. “Julissa told me you had a problem with me coming over and that she asked you to move out, but I’m supposed to believe your sudden change of behavior is just a coincidence?”

I sighed inwardly. The jig was up and that annoyed me. I wouldn’t admit to it though.

I raised my chin. “My behavior hasn’t changed at all.”

Ignoring another obvious lie he asked, “why don’t you want me here?” He cocked his head awaiting my answer.

I rolled my eyes at him, “I’m going to bed. You’re ridiculous.”

I got up from my chair and made my way over to the oven to cut it off and remove my food.

Before I could open the oven, I suddenly felt Jason behind me. He had moved quietly and quickly. His huge form towered over me. He wasn’t touching me, but he was damn close.

I tried to sidestep him but he gripped my forearm and dragged me back against him. His very prominent hard on dug into the small of my back causing thousands of tiny goosebumps exploded over my skin. Gripping the oven handle for support I had to physically repress a tremor that wanted to move through me.

I tucked my lips into my mouth.

“Answer my question, Tempest. Why don’t you want me around? Does my presence make you think about what we could have had? Is that why every time I show up you can’t stand to be around me?”

Yes. Yes to it all. I would never tell him the truth though.

“No. I’m not affected by you at all, Jason.”

He leaned down and then into me, breathing hard against the side of my face he rasped into my ear. “Liar. I Know you feel what I feel every time we’re in the room together.”

“I think you’re full of yourself and don’t know what you’re talking about.” I refuted. I shoved my back into him, forcing space between us then I spun around to face him, “move!” raising my hands between us, I shoved him further away.

Even then he was still too close but I let him be.

I shoved a finger in his direction. “When my sister told you what I said she should have told you the reason why I said it.” I snapped. Changing the subject.

He cocked his head to the right, raising one of his thick eyebrows. “Since she didn’t tell me, why don’t you…”

“Fine.” I spat. “It’s rude as fuck for you to come to someone else’s house and eat food you didn’t pay for.” I answered him loudly and with an attitude, more aggravated with how much his presence was affecting me than the issue I had with the food.

Without thinking, I took a step toward him to get in his face, but then realized what I was about to do and stilled my feet. I was going to have to unlearn some toxic traits from my marriage. Eight years with Malcolm had made me aggressive.

Before responding his eyes traveled down to my thighs. I was very aware of the fact that my shorts had ridden and were molded against my pussy. I wanted to fix them but I refused to. It took a lot of energy to keep myself from squirming under his appraisal. His eyes remained on my thighs even when he finally spoke. I swear I felt them like tiny caresses against my flesh.

“I was wondering when you would say something. “He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet. He opened it, pulling out folded bills he held his hand out for me to take them.

“You should have mentioned it earlier.”

“ I shouldn’t have had to say anything, it’s common sense and common courtesy.”

His eyes drifted up to meet mine.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “My mother would be extremely disappointed in me.” He drawled.

I barely heard his words. He looked very predatory at the moment, as if he were barely restraining himself from grabbing me again. There was also something in his eyes. I couldn’t name the emotion. I wasn’t exactly good with emotions and men, not after Malcolm.

I didn’t like the energy circling around us.

I reached out and rudely snatched the money from his hand. Then to be even more obnoxious I counted it in front of him. Five hundred dollars was way more than he ate, but I wasn’t about to give him anything back. I was entirely too broke to act as if it wasn’t needed. I folded it and sat it under my wine glass.

“You know if you need money to move, I could help you. No strings attached. Since I am sort of responsible for you having to leave.”

He was living with roommates himself. How was he going to help me?

I shook my head. “No thank you. you’re not responsible for anything Julissa says or does. Really, you’re just an excuse she’s using and I’m perfectly capable.”

“But I can—’ He started.

I cut him off, vehemently shaking my head. “No. Change the subject, Jason.” Even if he could afford to help me, I would have said no. Depending on a man had caused me enough trouble in life.

His eyebrow rose at my sharp tone.

To make up for snapping at him I said, “Thank you though. For repaying me and the offer.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and then I just stood there staring at him, while he stared at me.

I needed a distraction.

Without thinking, I turned and bent over, which ended with my ass close enough for him to easily reach out and touch.

“And here she goes again.” Jason mumbled under his breath.

I ignored him and pulled the pan from the oven. Now that he’d figured out what I was doing, my ploy no longer amused me and I was no longer interested in sharing space with him. I planned to go back to ignoring him again for sixty days or however long it took me to move. I placed the hot pan on top of the stove, then rehung my potholders. I was about to take my ass upstairs and binge watch me some Luther, like I had originally planned.

Since he had basically paid for the food I had cooked, I told him, “Fix yourself something to eat but leave me enough for my lunch tomorrow.” I picked up the money he’d given me. Just as I was exiting the kitchen I felt a powerful tug from behind. Jason snatched me just like I had snatched his money. Using my wrist, he pulled me against him again.

I dropped my eyes down to where his big hand was wrapped around my wrist before looking up to stare at him “excuse you, can I go?”

He shook his head. “Nope, not until you answer my question.”

I wet my lips “Give me some space.” I demanded.

“No. Answer my question.”

“What question?” I played dumb.

He glared. “You know what question, but I will indulge you and repeat myself. “Were you purposely teasing me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because, I like you.” he admitted easily, “and you know that, and I’d hope you wouldn’t use that against me because your sister pissed you off.”

His confession to liking me caused my heart to do a double backflip in my chest rendering me speechless for a half a second. when I snapped out of it, I answered his question when what I really wanted to do was ask him what he meant by liking me.

“No, I wasn’t purposely teasing you. Can I go now?” I lied easily. We struggled. With a little effort I managed to pull myself free from his grip and take a few steps away from him before he reached out and tugged me into his embrace again. He sat bringing me down with him. I landed awkwardly sideways in his lap. I swung my legs to get up. He pulled me back down.

“What in the hell is wrong with you? Let me go!” He trapped me, wrapping his big arms around my lower body.

“No, you started playing this game so you’re about to sit right the fuck where you are until you tell me the truth.”

“Jason, let me up.” I snapped through gritted teeth and tried to rise again, he held me tighter. I dug my nails into his hands and glared at him, he glared right back without flinching.

I folded my arms across my chest.

“What the fuck ever! I’m not telling you anything I’ll stay right the fuck here in your lap until my sister comes home — if I have to and then I’ll let you explain to her why were in this position.” I refused to give in.

My declaration made him laugh. “Shit, who you threatening with a good time?” his voice rumbled against my ear. He slid me so my ass sat right atop of his dick. I could feel every inch of him hard and thick. He made sure of it by lifting his hips and grinding into me.

My heartbeat dropped to my pussy. I bit into my bottom lip to stave off a moan. “Stop being nasty,” I whined.

“Stop lying to me and being difficult. Admit what you did and that you were wrong and I’ll let you go.” His fingernails dug into my fleshy right hip as he massaged it.

That was too much. He couldn’t keep touching me like he was. It was beginning to get too hard to pretend he wasn’t affecting me.

“Let me go and I’ll tell you.” He cupped my face bringing it around to his. He searched my eyes to see if I was telling the truth.

If he let me up, I was going to tell him everything. What I had done wasn’t even a big deal.

“Okay,” he agreed.

I exhaled a relieved breath.

He let my waist go, then removed his arm.

I thought about running out, but he sat too close to the exit for me to do that. Irked, I stood and shoved at his chest before I walked around and sat down on the opposite side of the table for some added security.

Feeling a tad bit guilty about what I had done, I started lamely. “I wasn’t actually trying to hurt you. I just wanted to get back at my sister for being a bitch. But you ruined it.” I pouted, trying to add levity to the situation.

Jason frowned. I guess he didn’t replace it too funny. He dragged his palm over his mouth. “You thought playing with my feelings wouldn’t hurt me?” I could see it in his eyes that it had and that made me feel bad.

Feelings though, really? What he wanted to do was fuck me.

Sexual energy seeped from every pore in his body. He reeked of lust.

“Feelings?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “You’re telling me you didn’t feel what was developing between us for months? That you weren’t on the verge of giving in and letting me have you? That there wasn’t a vibe between us?”

I shook my head. Lying. “No.”

Months earlier, before he showed up with my sister, he had approached me on the campus when I went to enroll in classes. I turned him down flat. The ink had just dried on my divorce papers. The last thing I was thinking about was dealing with another man. I saw him a few more times around town. He’d speak. Shoot his shot. I was cordial because his attention was flattering, but I never actually took him seriously. He had an ego born from being the best at everything. Women were all over him. I was not in the right headspace to deal with a man like that. I had dealt with a lot already. I didn’t need to add insecurity and jealousy to my list of things I needed therapy for.

Then one day he crossed my path while I was on lunch break. He came at me without the facade. He invited himself to sit with me. We ended up having this deep conversation about life. I told him about how I secretly resented my mother for basically forcing me to raise my sister and myself. I had only spoke aloud about the subject of my mother to my therapist. She needlessly had explain my feelings to me. I liked that he just listened to me. I had never had anyone just listen to me.

He told me he was scared he’d blow out his knee or get some other type of injury before he even made it to the NBA, so he was really focusing on school and getting his bachelor’s in business before signing with a team. I was surprised to replace out he’d would be graduating magna cum laude.

We met up four or five times a week after that. We’d just sit somewhere and talk for hours for better than a month.

Did I start to like him a bit? Yes, he was easy to talk to, free spirited, smart, and looked at me in this odd way that made me think he understood me without even knowing me, but I ignored those feelings. I knew all I’d get from him was sex. Sex I knew I would enjoy and I might have done it if he wasn’t who he was. I wasn’t trying to be added to the list of groupies he fucked. I had aspirations of being a lawyer, not NBA player jump-off. I didn’t want to end up on some internet list of women the famous Jason Jenkins fucked.

“No vibe?” The doubt was heavy in his tone.

“No vibe.” I shrugged. “But I am sorry for tonight.” I did owe him an apology. I pushed myself away from the table and stood.

“Where are you going?” he blocked me from exiting the kitchen by holding his arm out in front me.

I raised an eyebrow “To my room.”

He shook his head confidently, “No you’re not.”

I chuckled and pressed my hand to my hip. “I’m not?”

“Nope I’m going to need you to make it up to me for hurting my feelings.”

Crossing my arms over my chest I reminded him, “I apologized. Is that’s not enough?”

He shook his head no.

I ran my tongue over my teeth and narrowed my eyes at him. “And what do you figure will make up for me hurting your feelings?”

He hesitated, seemingly thinking it over.

“Feed me.”

“I cooked and told you to help yourself.” My job was done, I nodded towards the food, “help yourself.” I reiterated.

He gave me a wicked grin. “No. You’re not getting it. Feed me, as in physically and literally.” He looked dead ass serious.

I dropped my head back and laughed. Then waved him off “Fuck outta here. I’m not feeding you.” I walked towards the door. “Picture that…”

He stretched out his long arms and stood to block me. As If intimidation wasn’t enough he added guilt. “Yes you will because it’s fucked up that you were playing with my emotions. You preyed on me without any thought of how I would feel afterwards.”

I sighed dramatically, “I already apologized.”

“I don’t accept your basic, half ass apology. You actually had me thinking I’d gotten through to you and was about to get my chance.” He scoffed. “Nah fuck that. I want a sincere apology and I want you to put the same energy into it that you put into disregarding my feelings for the past two days.”

Well damn. When he put it like that I almost felt like I had to do what he wanted.

“But why do I have to physically feed you?” I pouted.

He shrugged, “first thing that came to my mind. Treat me like your king. You got any grapes around here?” He chuckled.

I switched tactics. “Your girlfriend, my sister. What would she think about me feeding you? If I told her our history?” I just knew that would do the trick. I attempted to leave the kitchen.

“Girlfriend?” He laughed. It was a hoarse sexy sound. “Who? Julissa?” He shook his head. “Nah that’s not me.”

“She and her emotions say different,” I rebutted.

Jason shook his head again. “I know that’s your sister and all but fuck her and her emotions. I haven’t told her I was her boyfriend, insinuated that she was mine or claimed her as mine. I haven’t even touched her since I found out she was your sister. Fucking in the backseat of my old beater does not make us a couple.”

I chuckled. “You expect me to believe that?”

“On my momma.” He drawled.

On his momma? That phrasing coming from a redhead, J. Crew model look alike threw me off for a second, but he sounded sincere. I still didn’t believe him.

I squinted, wrinkling my nose. “Let me get this straight…You’ve been coming around every day. Driving Julissa to work, picking her up, you damn near live here but y’all aren’t fucking? Bull!”I rolled my eyes. He was lying, but it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things because there would never be anything between us, but I was curious to hear what he had to say next.

He stared at me as if I should know he was telling the truth. “Yes, I expect you to believe me. Think about it. Where do I sleep? You heard us fucking? Seen us fucking? She tell you we fucking?” He ticked off each question on his thick fingers then waited for me to answer.

I thought about it for a minute and realized I did always replace him asleep on our sofa most days when I got up in the morning and I had neither heard nor seen them fucking. Then I remembered what Julissa had said to whoever she was talking to on the phone. She had accused me of being the reason they weren’t fucking and gag is, Jason was confirming I was. That pleased a very petty part of me.

“I don’t care.”

“Stop lying. You thought about it for too long to not care and realized what I said is true.” He responded, calling me on my lie.

“Whatever. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

He ran his thumb intimately over the back of my hand.

I looked down to replace our fingers interlocked. When had that happened? “I’m going to need to take my hand with me.” I tried and failed to tug my hand out of his grip.

“Feed me.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Yes. I’m serious. Dead ass”He stared back at me like he was, “sit down and feed me.”

I sighed. “Ok” I gave in, deciding to take my punishment, I shouldn’t have put him in between Julissa and my argument.

He hesitated, holding onto me for a few more seconds like he didn’t believe I was really going to do it.

I threw up my free hand “I swear, I’ll feed you.”

He let go.

I made a whole show out of stomping over to the cabinet while mumbling under my breath, I grabbed a plate. I put exactly two chicken wings and a handful of fries on it. He shook his head when he saw my measly offerings but said nothing. I carried the plate to the table and sat it down where I had been sitting and picked up a fork.

“Can your king get some ketchup, some ranch, blue cheese, something?” he asked in a playful tone, I didn’t like that he was enjoying fucking with me so much, but I’d grit and bare it for a little while longer.

I retrieved the condiments he mentioned from the fridge and poured them onto his plate. Standing in front of him, I picked up the fork. I skewered a few fries and I pushed them towards his mouth.

He reached out and stilled my hand. He looked at me as if I was crazy.

“No, I’m not about to have you fucking up my face with that fork because you’re mad your wicked ass little game backfired. Secondly,” he pointed to his plate, “those are finger foods, you have fingers, use them.”

I shook my head violently. “Hell no, I am not your woman, so I’m not about to feed you with my fingers.” the fork clanked against the plate. I stood up. “I’m done.” He had obviously lost his mind.

“Tempest.” His voice was filled with so much ice when he said my name and I got a bit scared.

“You started this; I’m going to finish it. Pick up my plate and come here.” His tone was thick and rough like sandpaper, leaving no room for argument and I wasn’t about to argue since we were alone. My neighbor that lived in the next duplex was out of town, nobody would hear me if he decided to whoop my ass for playing with him. I wasn’t legitimately afraid of him. I didn’t think he would do anything to me. Jason seemed more like the I’ll fuck obedience into you, than the I’ll beat it out of you type. I just didn’t actually know him well enough to tempt fate though.

Picking up the plate as he instructed, I went to pull out the chair that was right next to him to sit in. “no,” he said, stopping it with his foot. Scooting his own chair back, he nodded towards his lap.

I gawked at him. “No. A very fucking adamant no!”

“Tempest,” he said my name in that demanding tone again and I reluctantly did what he wanted. I went over and sat sideways on his lap. He took the plate from my hand and put it on the table. “Straddle me.”

I scoffed, “boy, I’m too big to be sitting on you like that.”

He sighed like I was really getting on his nerves. “Just do it.” He demanded. I guess impatience wouldn’t allow him to wait for me to follow directions. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed me by my waist and attempted to move me into the position he wanted me in. I slapped his hand away. “I got it, stop handling me, aggressive ass little boy.” I mumbled. Even though I kind of liked the aggression. Another side effect of Malcolm.

He chuckled. “From a boy to a little boy? Keep digging yourself deeper. I encourage you to.” He threatened.

If my eyes would have rolled any further back into my head, they would have gotten lost there.

I placed my legs on either side of him and lowered myself onto his lap, then rested my back against the table putting distance between us.

“Better,” he said, placing a kiss at the side of my lip.

Childishly, I wiped it off.

He laughed and reached around to grab his plate. I hated how close we were. Even though I was leaning back as much as I could, I could still smell the mint on his breath.

His body smelled so good too.

He had on the male version of my favorite perfume Acqua Di Gio. It had mixed with his own body chemistry to create this intoxicating scent that had me wanting to bury my nose in the crook of his neck. I had to scold myself mentally to calm down.

“Feed me.” He handed me his plate, then reached around and smacked my ass hard enough that it moved like an ocean wave in his lap. “Giddy up, baby.” I gritted my teeth instead of hitting him back like I wanted to. And Lord knows I wanted to since he was preying on my fucking nerves.

I picked up a fry from the plate, dipped it in ketchup and pushed it towards his lips. He leaned in, sucking my fingers into his mouth along with the food. The jolt of electricity that moved through my body as a result had me mad at myself for feeling anything.

I snatched away and glared at him. “Stop playing.”

“What?” He asked innocently, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “You just taste really good.”

“You mean the food?” I glared at him.

“Yeah, the food tastes really, really good. I want to taste more.” Pressing his teeth into his thick bottom lip, he moaned from deep in his chest, doing entirely too much. The sound sent my clit to thumping. The skin on my face and throat went hot. The entire ordeal was too much. It was making my pussy moist. I prayed I didn’t leave a wet spot on his lap.

For the next ten minutes, I tried to hold my composure as he tried to pay me back for teasing him by teasing me. He made sure he went out of his way to suck, nip, and lick my fingers every time I placed food in his mouth. By the end, my pussy was on fire and my inner thighs were saturated with my juices. I was so wet I felt indecent. Only guilt kept me from grinding into his lap in search of relief.

With as much composure as I could manage while turned on, I asked him if I could go. Feeding him had been the most erotic experience I’d had in my whole twenty-six years of life, and I was ready to forget it ever happened since there probably would never be a repeat.

“Yeah, go.” was what came from his mouth, but his hands tightened around my waist. He started moving, grinding up into me. The only thing separating his dick from my pussy was the thin fabric of our shorts. Everything in me wanted to tell him to slide mine to the side and his down. I probably would have asked him if I knew how to form words. My brain had short circuited. I sat there speechless, enjoying the friction his upward stroke created against my clit. I unconsciously began to move with him, wanting more.

If he just sped up a little I knew I could cum.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling.

I felt one of Jason’s hands move from my waist. He glided it up down then back up my bare thigh, stopping, he tapped in the fleshiest part. “I thought you wanted to get up,” his voice was low, husky, and cocky. He knew damn well I didn’t really want to move, at least not at that moment. But I knew I had too. We were too close to crossing the proverbial line. I planned to get up but waited a beat longer in hopes that he would force the sin on me or I would cum from being dry humped.

“Get up, Tempest.” He urged but leaned forward pressing a kiss on my spot right above my collarbone. I closed my eyes tighter and let myself savor the feeling of his soft lips on me. For just a second. When his hot tongue replaced his lips, I heard myself whimper. That was it. That brought me back to reality. Quick, fast and in a hurry, I climbed off of him. I left the kitchen, without looking back. My bare feet heavily slapped the tiled floor as I went. I was proud of myself for pulling away, but disappointed by the fact that he didn’t follow me. Pathetic, right?