Leftovers With Benefits: An Interracial Contemporary Romance

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Leftovers With Benefits: An Interracial Contemporary Romance Page 10

by C. L. Donley


  She laughed a little in response.

  “I think they evolved when I got married. Voldemort didn’t always appreciate what I had to say. It sort of backfired, though. Because then he got irritated with my expressions.”

  “This guy’s a bastard.”

  “Sometimes, he was right,” she reflected, scooping more ingredients off the cutting board and into the pot. “Not everything needed to be said.”

  “I love that you still defend him.”

  “You do?”

  “Loyalty. It’s pretty hot.”

  Kenya snickered a bit as she blushed.

  “I just think better when he’s gone, honestly. I hate when you do it, by the way.”

  “What? Defend my Voldemort?”

  Kenya nodded. “I think if we were to try and talk about something other than our exes, we’d run into hiccups.”

  “We haven’t brought them up all day,” he replied.

  Kenya thought for a moment, then shrugged in concession as she broke down a few sprigs of rosemary.

  “You’re a bit of a chatterbox, too, you know.”

  “No one has ever accused me of that.”

  “You run your mouth constantly,” she said. He laughed, her eyes lingering on his awkward smile.

  “You’re easy to talk to, you said so yourself.”

  “That’s what they say.”

  “Maybe we’re just good together,” he remarked, conspicuously not looking up as he chopped more celery. She ignored the implication, fearing she had inadvertently created a monster.

  “Like a couple of cellmates, hitting it off,” Kenya joked as she nursed a hot cup of cider.

  “I love that you went full autumn and bought cider today.”

  “It fuckin’ came with a cinnamon stick,” Kenya defended herself.

  “The hot chocolate had homemade marshmallows.”

  “Hot chocolate is for winter.”

  “Is it?”

  “The earliest that hot chocolate is allowed is… the day after all Thanksgiving turkey is gone.”

  Kevin laughed.

  “I already can’t wait for this meal to be done,” he said.

  “Right?”

  “I’m not used to the wait,” he lamented. She giggled.

  “There’s other things we can do while we wait,” Kenya commented, somewhat provocatively.

  He grinned, not looking up as his chopped celery went into the pot.

  “You read my mind,” he answered after a moment.

  The smell of herb roasted chicken with vegetables filled the air while Saturday afternoon Netflix and chill commenced. Kenya kept her distance while the movie played, but when she got up to check on the food she returned to the couch, nestling against him. Instantly his heartbeat doubled but he stayed cool, placing his arm behind her head on the couch. Suddenly she reached for his belt buckle.

  “Not here,” he said. She didn’t look up, though she could feel he was looking down at her. She feared he would kiss her. Instead he found her ear.

  “I want to do you at the same time,” he confessed.

  Kenya hid her trembling mouth with her fingers as she left the warmth of his side and sat up.

  They were about to go into her bedroom, the last place she and her husband had ever been intimate.

  Should she grab his hand? It was the least she could do if he was going to let her sit on his face. But she felt it crossed a boundary invisible within her. She grabbed him by the wrist as a compromise.

  Slowly he got up from the couch and followed her, leaving the movie playing, the theatrical score rising in tandem with their own anticipation as she closed her bedroom door, blocking out the world.

  9

  Chapter 9

  Kenya was horribly distracted at work the very next day.

  Clearly she had no idea what she’d done, what she’d awakened.

  By the time their lengthy sex interlude was done, their slowcooker meal was finished and they ate it with leftover wine. Then he went home and she laid awake longer than she should’ve, thinking about all the things he’d said he loved about her.

  I love that you defend him, he’d said. The sentiment touched her. He’d said it was hot. Or was sexy the word he used? I love that you went full autumn. She laughed to herself at 2 am. She had indeed.

  It was the simple things that stuck in her brain. Not all this broad, movie mumbo jumbo, listening to himself say impressive shit. After she’d given him some and not before.

  He really meant that shit. Not that he was the kind of guy to lie. No. In fact she couldn’t conceive of Kevin telling a single lie.

  Even now, though she was completely exhausted, all she could think about was Kevin’s tongue on her—

  “Nurse Hamilton? Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  Kenya had to pull it together. Work needed her full attention. The last thing she wanted was to switch a patient’s dosage because she couldn’t stop thinking about oral sex.

  She was curious, she couldn’t lie. She couldn’t help comparing the two men. When she thought of Kevin’s dick it literally made her excited about the future. All that girth, and that curve seemed deliciously problematic. Before she could stop herself, she’d drooled on a patient’s chart and hastily wiped it away.

  Cecil was packing, of course, but she hated how much he constantly expected his dick to do all the work. A dick can’t hold up a whole marriage for pete’s sake. It wasn’t love, or the evidence of it. It wasn’t medicine or food, and it sure as shit wasn’t an apology. If she wasn’t wet enough, it was a torture device, so what the fuck? That’s simple shit. With so many extramarital flings under his belt, she sometimes wish he’d have come back having learned a thing or two.

  Honestly, what was going on with her? She was a grown woman. Sure he was good, but she’d had toys that could do the job.

  But let’s face it, nothing beat the real thing. No one was ready for the unveiling of Kevin’s naked form last night, long and sleek like a greyhound’s. She had no tickets to the gun show, but he’d let her go to it anyway. Whatever he did to get his body that way, he was still fucking doing it. Too bad she spent the majority of the night faced in the other direction. She chuckled a bit at her wicked memory. The only thought that was edging it out was her mouth on his—

  “Kenya!”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “Today. I want those done before the CNA’s switch shifts.”

  Oh no. She wanted what done? Fuck, what did she just say?

  She really was losing it.

  Tomorrow was her other day off. She’d just have to look a little thirsty and call him tonight. After work. Get each other off. And then, they’d have to have a talk.

  Clearly they were much more starved than either of them knew. But they had to be careful not to turn this into full blown sex.

  They were in no state to be in a relationship, with anyone. And whatever this was would never survive the complication of actual sex.

  Not that she was particularly attached to it, but that was the point. That was how it needed to stay.

  Besides, she hadn’t had the chance to think about moving on yet. No way was she getting herself tangled up with another military man. Sure it drenched her underwear, but more PTSD? Another round of inexplicable rage, isolation and over the top anxiety? It simply wasn’t worth the rest. Let someone else pay that emotional tax for once.

  They just needed to get each other through whatever the hell this was, and move on.

  “Kenya?” Gwen broke through her thoughts.

  Oh no. Had she zoned out again?

  “That insurance guy’s here to see you. Again.”

  Kenya’s heart galloped. Her entire body tensed.

  “Um… okay. Have you had lunch?”

  “Yes. Go,” Gwen nodded towards the door, giving her a mischievous look that Kenya ignored.

  She met Kevin in the hospital hallway, wearing a parka he’d obviously thrown on over a plain t-shirt
and jeans.

  “I know you’re probably busy.”

  “I’m on lunch. What’s up?”

  “Is there a place we can talk?”

  “Privately?”

  “As private as possible.”

  Kenya’s stomach jolted.

  “Why?”

  “I just… we need to talk. And it can’t wait. About… yesterday.”

  Kenya slowly let out a deep breath as she looked off into the distance, thinking.

  “Okay, follow me.”

  Kenya led Kevin down a hallway into a room with a snack machine and through to another room with tall plastic shelves full of cleaning supplies and a small desk. She closed the door.

  “Lemme start off by saying that yesterday was one of the best days I’ve ever had in my life,” he began.

  Kenya’s heart sent her whole body into overdrive but she ignored it.

  “You poor thing,” she replied.

  “I’m serious. It was… weird and spontaneous and carefree and… kind of intense… and it was easy. Like… it was so easy to do that. With you.” He laced his hands in front of him as he talked, as if everything he could’ve had to say was written there.

  “I slept like a baby last night. For the first time in… I don’t know how long. I haven’t thought about Voldemort in 24 hours. Have you?”

  “No. And that’s what a rebound does for you. I told you.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “You’ve finally left her behind. You’ve let her go. I’m glad I could help.”

  “No, it’s…” Kevin scoffed in exasperation. “I was dying, you know that? Like I was on the verge of dying. I was the walking dead and I didn’t even know it.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I was having that exact same thought before you got here. I woke up easier this morning than I have in years.”

  Kevin breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Good, so we’re on the same page.”

  Uh oh. Kenya didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  Kevin didn’t even have the same book as Kenya let alone a similar page. She cut him a suspicious side eye.

  “Wait, what page is that?”

  “That… we should take this relationship further.”

  Oh, Lord.

  “Kevin, if we take this relationship any further it’s gonna fuckin’ snap.”

  Kevin furrowed his brow.

  “But… we hardly know each other.”

  “You’re right, and you know why? It’s ‘cause we’re strangers. It’s our proper place in the world. We would probably never know each other if our spouses had been faithful to us.”

  Kevin took hold of both her shoulders and looked in her eyes with all seriousness.

  “Kenya… we have to have sex.”

  Oh, LORD!

  Kenya’s eyes went wide as she slowly shook her head.

  “Noooo, that is precisely what we cannot do!”

  “How can you say that? Look at the fucking chemistry we have!”

  “What chemistry! Neither of us have had any action in months. We’re just freaking out over… non-emotionally abusive sex acts.”

  Kevin stood there dumbfounded.

  “You know, I expected you to fight this. I expected you to say ‘it’s too soon’ and ‘you’re too fragile right now to think clearly.’”

  “All of which is true.”

  “No,” he insisted. “My mind is clear now.”

  “But you thought it was clear before. With her,” she argued.

  Kevin sighed. “Look, I didn’t say it had to be today. I just meant… we should be working towards… something sustainable.”

  “I think sex would be like feeding gremlins after midnight. Co-dependent gremlins,” Kenya began. “When I said I woke up the easiest I have in a long time, it was because I realized I was single. I wasn’t miserable, I wasn’t scorned or left or cheated on, I was single. And now you want to take that away. You don’t even know if I have a family history of mental illness.”

  “What?? Do you?”

  “No. Well…depression probably, but who the hell knows.”

  “There,” he said, “now I know. My mom’s side is bipolar.”

  “Not surprised.”

  “Well. This is going to take some time, I see. Luckily, I know your weakness now.”

  Kenya’s heartbeat accelerated even as she glared at him.

  “Giving head is a super power, not a weakness.”

  “That’s not what I was talking about.”

  Her mind went back to the first orgasm he gave her. A bolt shot to her groin as she watched him watch her eyes.

  “…That’s not my weakness either.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head.

  “What is it then?”

  She scoffed and stuck out her tongue with a goofy look on her face. He smiled.

  “Nice try. Really,” she said.

  Kevin took a step closer to her.

  “Why’d you think I came up here?”

  She swallowed hard.

  “I’m sure I have no idea.”

  “No idea?” he challenged. “Why are we in a broom closet?”

  Kenya needed a few seconds to come up with a rebuttal.

  “You said ‘as private as possible.’”

  “Just admit that you were hoping I came up here for some hanky panky.”

  “…Did you just say, ‘hanky panky?’”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s the exact appropriate term for what this is.”

  Kenya eyed the floor as she asked shyly, “Well… did you?”

  Kevin closed the gap between them, his intense gaze turning her limbs to jelly.

  “You are quite the contradiction, Nurse Hamilton.” Kevin reached for the ties on her scrubs and un-did them like string on a package. Kenya’s mouth went dry.

  “Lock the door,” she said.

  He sauntered over to it, a sliver of light coming through the narrow rectangle of a window as he turned the lock.

  Slowly he made his way back to her, hiding a sly grin of complete and utter confidence that melted into playfulness. Kenya had to bite her trembling lip.

  “No kissing,” Kenya hastily recoiled as he tried to further close their distance. He stopped where he was and gave her a once over.

  “Any more rules?” he said.

  “No.”

  “Is that your weakness?” he asked in her ear, curious yet somehow also knowing the answer.

  “Look… just no kissing my mouth, alright? I mean it. You wanna get herpes?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “You’re a registered nurse with herpes?”

  “Yes, now unbutton your pants.”

  He huffed a laugh, a boyish grin appeared that gave her butterflies.

  “Not so fast,” he said. He stuck his hand down the front flap of her underwear as he kissed her neck.

  “No kissing,” she moaned.

  “On the mouth,” he corrected her.

  She held onto his shoulder for dear life as he stimulated her in the broom closet. His tongue trailed her jawline and she pulled away, out of his reach.

  “Dammit, Kevin I’m serious.”

  Kevin eased two fingers inside her, gently pulsing in and out.

  “I have a super power too,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh God!” she gasped. She dug her fingernails into the back of his neck.

  “Know what it is?”

  “What?” she panted.

  “Following directions,” he replied, giving her earlobe a bite as he smiled.

  * * *

  Kevin walked out of the Murray Regional Medical Center with a stiffy. The scent of Kenya all over his face and hands.

  The air was crisp, the mingling smell of autumn once again causing his heart to flutter rather than ache. He had a flash forward to Thanksgiving with his overbearing family. His mother avoiding
his painfully apparent failure as a husband, his brother’s family, started later than his marriage and now flourishing, hammering away at his confidence. And Kevin, a million miles away, thinking of how soon he could steal away to his childhood bedroom to beat off to the sound of Kenya’s phone sex-induced orgasm, like a lovestruck teenager.

  Even he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her to sleep with him by Thanksgiving. Just as well. Subjecting Kenya to his family over the holidays is not a complication he felt like entertaining.

  Part of him hoped she made him chase her for the rest of his life. But he knew he couldn’t idealize her for long, or he would make the same mistake again that he made with Lindsey. He had to convince her to have sex somehow, to make this real. But she suffered from the exact opposite problem as he had: impossibly low hope and expectations.

  He wanted to find that husband of hers and beat him with a blunt object. Sure he could kill him, but he didn’t deserve that. He genuinely deserved just a long, thorough beating. There wasn’t a person he’d ever met that was more deserving. The fantasy played in his mind, Cecil’s face hitting the edge of a curb, the feeling of pounded flesh against his knuckles, the sound of teeth littering the pavement like chiclets.

  He was having a whole host of strange desires. Beating his meat, beating other men. He was turning into a fucking neanderthal. He kind of liked it. Maybe he should start a fight club. He took a huge whiff of his upper lip.

  He trudged through the lonely parking garage, got into his Camry that was thankfully still warm and closed out the cold. Kenya would be off work in four hours. And in four hours, he was pretty sure there was going to be a knock at his front door. Because he’d left her in the broom closet, still reeling from the leg shaking orgasm he’d given her while her manicured hand gripped his hair. The friction in his jeans from his taut erection felt amazing in his heightened state of arousal. He was definitely about to jack off in a parking garage. Then maybe he was gonna go home and fuckin’…eat a steak with his bare hands.

  He unzipped his Levi’s and began to stroke to the quickly accumulating memories of the sights and sounds of Kenya’s beautiful body.

  Honestly, what the fuck was wrong with men? All she’d requested, nay demanded, was a clean dick to suck. Good on her. For some reason, it’d been a tall order in her world. But not in his. And he intended to rock her world.

 

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