He chuckled bashfully. “Yea. I just appreciate you inviting me. I wish I could have experienced something like this with my own kids. Now, I kinda feel like I am.”
As the engagement party date had approached, I had been worried about who I could invite to the party that was in my life who wouldn’t embarrass the shit out of Tempest. She was down to earth as hell. Despite Nina being married to an uppity nigga, she was cool as fuck, too. However, that motherfucka, Amaechi, was an asshole that I definitely wanted to put these hands on. He looked down on me, even with the faux story of success that I had given him. So, I could just imagine how he would judge me if he knew the real me. I didn’t give two fucks about appearances, but it was clear that Tempest did. Therefore, I was lost on who to invite that would make me look like I had family, compared to the thirty people Nina had invited. Meek had come with one of his bougie dips he’d met recently. She felt real special being at his best friend’s engagement party. My mother had threatened to kick Nimah out if she didn’t come and act right. Then I thought Darcel and Jeffrey would be perfect.
Oddly, with Jeffrey there, I felt like I had a father-figure there for me. I had only been working with him for about four months by then. Yet, our bond was solid. He trusted me with the design of his homes more than the crew members who had been a part of the company for years. He had really taken me under his wing and showed me the ropes to the point that I wondered why he was being so gracious.
Pushing back the emotions that I was feeling as well, I took a swig of the Corona that I was clutching while grabbing Jeffrey’s shoulder. He gritted, clearly holding back his own emotions as he simply patted me on the back.
Chapter 14
Tempest Murphy
The party wasn't scheduled to end until two in the morning, but by midnight, I was done. Dame and I said our goodbyes, took a few more pictures on the way out, and then he drove me home.
“I'm sorry,” I apologized as I plopped down on my bed.
My body felt so heavy. I slightly swayed as I looked at my feet, wanting desperately to kick off my heels and relieve my feet of the excruciating pain that was making the balls of my feet scream.
“For what?”
Dame was standing in front of me, looking oh-so debonair in that suit. He was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. There was a glassy haze over his sparkling eyes. He was a bit intoxicated, too, but not nearly as much as I was.
“For getting tipsy and leaving early.”
He chuckled.
Fuck, even his chuckle was sexy. The deep rumble of it vibrated in my core.
“It's all good.”
I smiled up at him, slightly swaying uncontrollably. “We did good.”
His unkempt eyebrow rose. “You think so?”
“Hell yea, partner!” I drunkenly exclaimed as I jolted my hand upwards for a high five.
The palm of his hand met mine as he asked, “Partner?”
“Business partners!”
He chuckled. “Oh.”
He was so goddamn sexy. I couldn’t deny that while sober, so looking at him through intoxicated eyes made him beyond irresistible.
As usual, I tore my eyes away from our burning chemistry. “I’m going to bed. Can you lock the bottom lock on your way out?”
“Sure.”
As he walked away, towards my bedroom door, I felt my body yearning to be touched by him. This was the night of my engagement party. I should have been making passionate love to my future husband.
Yet, this was all a façade.
“Thanks again… For everything.”
“Stop thanking me, Tempest,” he said over his shoulder.
“Ooofh!” I exhaled as I finally kicked off one of my pumps. Relief swam through me, but it was as if the blood finally circulating from my feet was further intoxicating me.
The room started to spin before I could kick off the other shoe. So, I just laid back on my bed. I heard Dame chuckling. He was still in the doorway, but I couldn't lift my head to look at him. Yet, I heard his loafers against my carpeted bedroom floor as he came towards the bed. I struggled to sit up, but his large hand gently pushed me back down by the shoulder.
“Lay down,” he commanded softly, his deep baritone making my drunk hormones go wild.
I wanted to fight him as he squatted in front of me. I wondered what the hell he was doing until I felt him peeling off my pump.
Then his hands slowly slid up my body. Unsure of what he was doing, I sprang upward.
“I’m just helping you get undressed.”
I softly grabbed his wrists, stopping him. I didn’t want to be naked in front of him. Not that day. It had been perfect. He had been perfect. I wanted it to stay perfect.
I lifted his right hand. When I softly kissed the inside of his palm, I felt his body tense. I didn’t know why my drunk ass had done it. Besides the façade, sweet kisses we had put on for our engagement party attendees, we hadn’t had a genuine intimate moment since we’d had sex. I guess gratitude had forced me to do it. I was so thankful for him. I knew the six figures I had promised him were his motivation to do this for me, but he hadn’t had to do it so well. He deserved an Oscar. None of this felt like an act when he was with me. He had not only made everyone else feel that I was loved; he had also shown me how it felt to be truly loved.
Even on his knees, I had to look up at him. Intoxication led me to push past my insecurities, cup his face, and kiss him. It was a simple kiss, a mere thank you that I had planted on his big, soft lips. His eyes stayed pried open as he gazed at me, full of reluctance. He knew I was drunk, even as I pressed my tongue between his lips.
As soon as he tasted my tongue, his reluctance faded. His dominance took over. He gently pushed me down, continuing our kiss as he gathered my dress around my waist.
He then disappeared. My eyes were stuck on the ceiling as I felt those lips against the inside of my thigh. My insecurities wanted to stop him. This would never go anywhere. I wouldn’t insult his presence by expecting it to commit to mine.
However, as soon as his lips traveled beyond the lace of my panties and onto my throbbing yoni, all insecurities evaporated. I was ready for him; so ready. Pressure built in my core as I forgot how to breathe while he started to suck on my throbbing bud.
My body shot upwards into a sharp arch. I had never imagined he could use his tongue as eloquently on my sex as he had on my lips.
He worked me in slow circles. I was beyond ready to explode, telling him so with loud moans of desire and approval.
He moaned, “Mm humph,” into my juices, as if he knew I was about to cum and was encouraging it. “Mm humph.”
My thighs started to squeeze slowly, closing against his face, as I felt my juice beginning to explode. His large hands gripped my thighs, locking them into place as he refused to shy away from my juices that oozed out of me as my body tensed violently while I orgasmed.
I had only untensed when he smacked my ass, while still licking my clit. My body started to buck.
He finally released me. I laid there with my eyes pried closed, breathing hard, trying to recover. I felt hands on my body again. He was attempting to lift my dress over my head. My eyes sprang open. I didn't want to be naked. I felt too good to come down off my high.
I grabbed his wrist, pushing them away.
Yet, he refused, lightly smacking my hands away. “Unt uh. Take this shit off.”
His overt dominance was the only remedy that I had experienced for my insecurities. The way he looked at me made the scars mentally go away.
I let him take my dress off.
He started kissing his way down my body, purposely placing his lips on the flawed areas of my skin. He trailed his way down my body until he got to my pussy. I gasped as I felt his tongue hit my clit again. He worked me in slow circles until I felt ready to explode.
Now that the fog of lust had evaporated into my umpteenth orgasm, I lifted the sheet over my body, hiding as usual. I peered over at Da
me, as he slowly dressed himself while sitting on the side of my bed.
It was now two in the morning.
It had taken him hours to cum. He’d blamed it on all the alcohol that he had consumed that night. He was rock hard, but it had taken him many positions and breaks to reach an orgasm. I had not complained at all, though. During one of the orgasms I’d had, I had actually sobered up. I had sweated out all the liquor, and I was glad. I wanted to feel him sober, not in some drunken state that wouldn’t allow me to remember every inch of him in the morning.
When he yawned, I giggled. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For keeping you up so late.”
He chuckled. “It’s cool. Trust me.” He ended that statement with a lust in his tone that made me shiver with memories of our back-breaking, animalistic sex. It was as if we were trying to enter each other's souls when he was inside of me.
“Just a few more months, and I’ll be all out of your hair,” I assured him.
“Is that right?”
“Yea.”
He stood, putting back on his button-up. His eyes found mine, and I saw the offense in them. “Is that truly all this is to you?”
Taken aback by his sudden seriousness, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“This… Us… Is this just a business arrangement to you?”
“I mean… yea.” There was no way that this could have been anything more. Chemistry was easy to feel in a fairy tale. And that's what we were portraying: a fairy tale. We were faking perfection, so of course, it felt perfect. Of course, there was chemistry. No way did this man really want to be with a girl like me.
Dame’s full lips pressed together as he nodded slowly. “Wow.”
“What?” I didn’t understand the hurt in his eyes. It was as if he wanted me to want him. But why? Just for him to realize that he didn’t want some flawed, broken girl on his arm when he had options of perfection? No way was I going down that road again.
“Then why do you keep fucking me, Tempest?”
His sudden anger caused me to stutter over my thoughts that were trying to come out of my mouth. “Because… Because…”
“This just about money and dick for you?”
Shocked at the hurt in his eyes, I asked, “It's not the same for you?”
“No.”
I shook my head. “You don’t want me, Dame.”
When I chuckled, his eyes slightly bucked as his anger deepened as he spat, “No, you don't want me.”
“Dame—”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re right,” he said as he stormed towards my bedroom door. He was throwing a fucking tantrum, and I was floored. “This is just business, Tempest. Strictly fucking business.”
I blinked rapidly, his words leaving me mute as he left my bedroom.
I stared into space, hurt seeping into my once lustful aura just as I heard my front door slam.
My heart broke because I would never want to hurt a man who had brought such joy to my life. This charade had reminded me of what I needed to fight hard to achieve when it came to love. The chemistry and passion between Dame and I felt real. However, I couldn’t bring myself to accept that it truly was, not with a beauty like his and a beast like me.
Damien Coleman
“Daddy, look!”
I looked over at Faye as she struggled to move into a circle on her skates. Despite her not nearly doing it gracefully, I told her, “Good job, baby.”
For Faye’s birthday, I had taken the kids out skating. Brea and Joziah were in front of me, playing with their ice cream and cake. Faye had demolished hers and was now playing around on the Elsa beginner’s skates that had been one of many items on her list. Brea and Joziah had been in some funky-ass moods since I’d picked them up. Even though they had had some pretty bad attitudes for the past few weeks, that day, they were unbearable.
I blew out my frustration as I threw my used napkin into my plate of melted ice cream and remnants of the chocolate cake I had bought Faye.
“What’s wrong with y’all?” I asked Brea and Joziah. “And don’t say nothing. Talk to me.”
Admittedly, I felt defeated as fuck sitting there. Leaving Tempest’s house two weeks ago, I was reminded of my shortcomings. I hadn’t been the type of man I needed to be to keep my family. It was even more evident that I wasn’t that type of man when Tempest continuously rejected me.
Sitting at that table, looking at my kids, I felt like I had failed them.
“Y’all used to tell me everything. Y’all were my best friends.”
Hearing the sincere heartbreak in my voice, Brea’s eyes shot up to finally look me in mine. I felt like she hadn’t looked at me in weeks. I literally felt my heart breaking.
“What’s going on, baby girl?” I asked her.
When I saw the tears forming in her eyes, it was over for my manhood. I could hold on to my ego like a dog with a bone, until it came to the happiness of my kids.
As tears fell, she wiped it away quickly. “I don’t want to go live with Aunt Mary. I don’t understand why we can’t live with you.”
My brow furrowed. “Wait. What? Why do you think you’re going to live with your Aunt Mary?”
“I don’t think that; we are. Mama is getting kicked out. We’re moving this weekend.”
“When was y’all going to tell me?” I barked.
“You’re getting married,” Joziah grumbled. “What can you do about it?”
I fought to look oblivious. “What are you talking about?” I asked him.
“Mama told us,” he answered, without even looking at me.
“I’m not getting married—”
Brea argued, “But Mama said—”
“Don’t worry about what your mama said,” I urged. “I’m not getting married. Even if I was, I would never let another woman come between us. If y’all need to live with me, then you know you can. I’m your father. You don’t have to live with your Aunt Mary or nobody else.” I stood, grabbing my keys and wallet from the table. “C’mon. Let's go.”
It was time to go anyway. I had let them eat the cake and ice cream once they were tired of skating and eating pizza, and once Faye had opened the rest of her many presents I had gotten her.
Brea helped me bag the gifts while Joziah helped Faye out of the skates and into her shoes. I then rushed them out of the crowded skating rink on 76th and Loomis.
“H-hey,” Maya stuttered, surprised to see me in the living room as she trotted down the stairs.
Brea and Joziah ran past her. I was sure they were scared to be put in the middle of anything because they had opened their mouths. Faye followed them, eager to get to her room to play with the new tablet I had gotten her for her birthday.
“Sit down. Let me holla at you,” I told Maya.
Sheepishly, Maya descended the stairs. For the past few weeks, we’d had very little to say to each other. She had surprisingly stopped cursing me out and crying about me getting engaged. But as she sat on the couch, I could see the defeat and hurt in her eyes. My heart went out to her. We had never been in love, but I had love for her because of our history and because she was the mother of three out of the four most important people in my life. I never wanted to purposely hurt her. That was why I had always had a regard for her that no one could take from her.
“What's up?” she asked softly as I sat beside her.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting kicked out?”
Her eyes shied away from mine. “I was embarrassed.”
“You should have told me anyway. You know I want my kids with me.”
Pouting, Maya replied, “But I want them with me, too. I’m not the type of mother that can live separately from my kids.”
Even though she had not had that same respect for me, I would never do that to her. I loved my family too much.
“Go upstairs and get y’all shit,” I demanded softly.
Her eyes were hopeful as shock caused her to stutter, “Wh-what?”
<
br /> “Y’all comin’ home,” I told her.
“But what about your fiancée?” she asked with a slight roll of the eye.
I sighed, leaning back on the couch. “That’s…” I contemplated telling her the truth. She didn’t deserve any of this, my sympathy or the truth, but this wasn't about her; this was a sacrifice for my kids. “That’s just a business arrangement.”
“What?” she asked, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to digest what I had said.
“She’s paying me to marry her.”
She frowned. “That bitch an African or something?”
I chuckled. “Nah. She just needed to get married to get some money she’s inheriting, and I was willing to do it so that I can finally retire from the game.”
She gave me hopeful eyes.
I answered her disbelief, saying, “I heard you, and you were right. I wanna be a better man and example for our kids. No more arrests. No more shootings. I want to give my family the life and peace they deserve.”
Chapter 15
Tempest Murphy
Property of a Savage Page 14