His eyebrows flew upward. “You can’t renege on the cookies.”
“Oh yes, I can, and I just did.” Infuriated, Renee fastened the cover on the container and shoved it into the cabinet. She’d thought they were getting along. She’d thought he actually liked her.
“Lady, you are a piece of work.”
“And so are you!” Renee marched to the front door where his tools were located and stood over them.
“I did not help you because I had an ulterior motive. Frankly, I couldn’t care less if I get fined again by the board. It would have been less trouble for me to simply pay another fine than spend two whole days helping you.”
“You are a fraud, Mr. Stevenson.”
“I’m Mr. Stevenson now? This morning at breakfast, I was Clive.”
“This morning at breakfast, I thought you were a decent human being, and we could have become friends. Now I know the truth. Have a good day.” She looked at his tools and then looked at him, signaling that he should take his shit and go.
“For the record, I’m a good guy. Everybody likes me, except you.”
“And I’m sure that gets under your skin, doesn’t it? You know what you need? Real friends. Not people who’ll come to your house only for loud parties and disturb the neighbors, but real friends who’ll tell you the truth about yourself. And the truth is, you are a selfish, overgrown frat boy who thinks the rules of common decency don’t apply to him. Well, I’m here to tell you, Mister Stevenson, that the rules do apply, and you will abide by them whether you like it or not.”
“And do you know what you need? A man, because no one is naturally this bitter and angry.”
“Oh yes, I forgot, the white male penis is the solution to all the world’s problems.”
“What’s the matter, never had any white male cock? You should try it. We should both try something new, because I’ve never had any Black—”
Thwack! Renee hit him before she had time to think.
Clive’s eyebrows arrowed down and his hand touched his cheek. “Why the hell did you hit me?”
“You are disgusting. Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Why not? Because then you’d have to pretend you don’t like it? Let’s lay all our cards on the table, shall we? You want me.”
Renee cackled out loud, throwing her head back with exaggerated mirth. “I most certainly do not.”
“That’s why you’re wearing those tight jeans and that tight blouse, leaving little to the imagination. You’re wearing sweet-smelling perfume, your hair looks extra good, and let’s not forget the feast from this morning. You can deny it all you want, sweetheart, but you most certainly want this white male penis.”
“Get the hell out of my house! And when the board meets in the next session, I hope they throw the book at you.”
“Well, if I’m already in trouble…” He shrugged and then pulled her against him, pressing his mouth to hers.
Startled, Renee froze for a second and then let out a tremulous moan as his mouth crushed hers and then moved in a seductive slide that made her sex pulse. The hands at her back slipped under her shirt and palmed her skin, sliding up to her bra strap and leaving her shivering in the wake of his touch.
He angled his head to the right and deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue against hers and tilting her backward ever so slightly over his left arm. Her nipples throbbed against his hard chest, and she gripped his big, muscular shoulders, seeking closer contact as she widened her mouth beneath his.
His calloused right hand was rough yet gentle as he shaped her waist, smoothing over her hips and then sliding backward to squeeze her ass. She’d known his touch would make her ache, but this fiery desire was upsetting, insulting in the wake of her anger.
Dismayed by her behavior, she pushed him away. They both stared at each other with heaving breaths, shocked and aroused.
Renee slapped him again. She didn’t even know why. She just felt compelled to do it.
“Goddammit, lady, if you don’t stop hitting me—”
She grabbed his shirt and tugged him down for another kiss.
8
In between feverish kissing and fondling, they fumbled their way toward the bedroom. Clive tossed his shirt to the floor and sucked on the side of Renee’s neck, deftly unhooking her bra and then flinging both that and her blouse at the entrance to her bedroom.
The rest of their clothes came off fast, and when they were both naked, his mouth crashed down on hers. She met the demand by sliding her fingers into his soft white hair and trembled at the rasping drag of chest hairs over the tips of her breasts and the way his rough hands roamed across her back and over her buttocks. Within seconds, she was on her back and across the width of the bed with one hairy thigh between hers, tipping back her head with a jagged groan as he sank his teeth into her tender flesh.
Renee was on fire, rocking her hips against his hard erection and gripping the back of his hand to prolong the attack on her neck. When his hands cupped her breasts, she shuddered. His thumbs tortured the nipples, teasing until a throbbing ache developed deep in her pelvis.
“I knew you would taste good,” he said in a guttural whisper. He kissed between her breasts and around the warm crests, laving his tongue over the soft flesh while continuing to wreak havoc with his hands.
His mouth seized hers again, and their tongues met in a furious tangle of need and pent-up animosity. She boldly moved her lips across his hair-covered jaw and nipped his chin. Meanwhile, her hands roamed freely over his back and ass, exploring the near-perfect masculine beauty of his body.
Renee sank her fingers into his tight behind, and Clive grunted. Calloused fingers tightened on the same breasts they’d been obsessed with for several minutes. The constant touching and squeezing was almost too much to bear. Between her legs was hot and aching.
“Do you taste this good everywhere?” he asked in a gravelly voice, sliding his hand to cup her sex.
Renee didn’t have time to answer before he lowered to his knees beside the bed and shoved his face between her legs. She knew it was coming, but was still unprepared for the penetration of his tongue. Twisting in shock, she gasped but immediately recovered and open for him.
Legs spread, one hand gripping the back of his head, she watched as he continued to go to work between her thighs. She’d never experienced anything so good. Her body became attuned to every lick, all the sucking, and the sounds from the back of his throat. He seemed to enjoy the act as much as she enjoyed having it performed on her. He conquered her sex with his tongue, searching out every inch with relish until a pending climax forced her to clamp her thighs around his head and angle her hips higher.
Knowing she was close energized him because his hands gripped her breasts, and his stiff tongue swirled against her clit with increased vigor. Head swimming, Renee hollered for release, finally achieved when he pushed past the slick entrance to her body to taste deeper.
The hairs on his face added to the delicious torture, and as the bottom fell out, she was falling, falling into heaven with a cry so loud she surely violated the neighborhood noise ordinance.
His job done, Clive rose slowly to his feet and wiped a hand across his damp beard. He gazed down at her—masculine, almost feral in the way his darkened eyes scoured her body. “You know we’re just getting started? The best is yet to come.”
Renee pressed a hand to her heaving chest. “My goodness, if that wasn’t your best…”
Clive smirked and commanded, “Over.”
“Wait, I—”
He flipped her onto her stomach with ease, which she appreciated because her bones had liquefied and she couldn’t move. Bent over the edge of the bed with her toes pushing against the floor, Renee felt vulnerable to whatever he planned to do next.
“Spread your legs.” From the corner of her eye she saw him retrieve a condom from his jeans.
Renee did as he told her, palms flat on the bed, anticipating his next move. She’d just had an explosive
climax but wanted more and arched her butt as an offering. Clive palmed her bottom and smoothed one hand from the base of her spine up into her hair.
“You taste good. You’re soft.” He lowered onto her and closed one hand around both wrists like manacles, stretching her across the bed.
“What are you doing?” Renee whispered, excited, her breathing turning shallow.
“Giving you something to make you feel good so you’ll stop complaining. I think I’ll be doing the entire community a great service.”
“Maybe I’m the one who’ll be doing a—ah!”
Her eyes squeezed shut as he entered her with a firm thrust.
He stilled his movement. “You were saying?” he said in her ear.
Renee whimpered, squirming and pushing back. She needed him to move.
“You want more?”
She bit her lip and nodded with enthusiasm, without a lick of shame.
“I can’t hear you. If I can’t hear you, I can’t give you what you want.” His lips remained next to her head, and his low, smoky voice filled her eardrums.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I want more. All—”
Her words broke on a cry of pure and utter pleasure, and her fingers curled into tight balls when his stroking resumed. Steady and strong, he moved with practiced skill, hands still gripping her wrists so she couldn’t move. Pinned to the bed, she absorbed his thrusts, moaning into the colorful cotton sheet as they intensified.
Clive slapped her ass and she gasped. The stinging pleasure pulsed between her legs and all lucid thoughts fled her brain. She would let him do whatever he wanted to her—wanted him to do as he pleased.
“You like that, don’t you? You like it a little rough.” His voice was deep, almost angry with intensity. He slapped her behind again, harder this time, and the sound crashed through the room. “Tell me.”
“Yes,” Renee hissed, tensing as she anticipated another blow.
He spanked her behind again and again, and she took her punishment. It felt so good, being pinned down, totally at his mercy as he spanked her and made her say how much she loved it.
Clive lifted her hips higher, drove harder, and angled his hips deeper. She was so turned on it wouldn’t be long before she came again.
He scraped the side of her neck with the edges of his teeth, and that did it.
She came. Hard. Shuddering. Another cry of pleasure bursting from her lungs, intensified by his refusal to release her wrists, his utter control of her body as he rode her from behind. She damn near hyperventilated, gasping as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over her body.
Clive’s hips pistoned against the cushion of her ass cheeks, and his grunts came faster and louder. Within seconds, he lost control, too and loudly muttered a series of curses before collapsing onto her back.
“Damn,” he said.
9
Clive lay with one arm folded behind his head, eyes traveling around the room, which contained several pieces of white furniture. They included a large dresser, a five-drawer bureau, and a two-drawer table beside the bed with an iPad and a couple of books on top.
She lay on her side, facing away from him. He wasn’t sure if she was sleeping, but she was awfully quiet and hadn’t said a word since their sweat-drenched bodies separated.
Drowsy, his eyes slowly closed. He’d take a quick nap and see if Renee was up for another round in a bit.
“My second husband was white.”
His eyes opened at the sound of her voice, and he turned his head in her direction. “Who was better—me or him?” he asked.
“My ex-husband.”
“Damn.”
Her laughter shook the bed, and when she turned to face him. “I don’t kiss and tell, Clive.”
“Oh, I’m back to being Clive, huh?”
She shrugged, humor in her brown eyes and a contented expression on her face that tightened his chest. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair was in disarray, and she’d sweated out her curls. No matter if the ex was better or not, she was satisfied.
“I have a question,” she said.
“Shoot.”
“Were you ever an athlete?”
“I was. My father played football and baseball. I was only ever good at football—started in the peewee league, played all through school and got a scholarship to play in college. The guys that come over to my house every couple of weeks are former teammates from back in college. Hell, we’re brothers at this point, after everything we’ve been through over the years.”
“Your house is the central location where everyone hangs out?”
“Yeah.”
“I have a similar situation with me and my two closest girlfriends. We usually go to Adelaide’s house. She’s the who baked the cookies. I’ve known her and Jackie, my other best friend, for years. I’d do anything for those women.”
“Guess we’re both lucky in that respect.” Clive smoothed her hair back from her cheek. The strands were soft as feathers. She briefly closed her eyes, as if that simple touch brought her pleasure. “What do you do all day, now that you’re out of school?”
“I edit manuscripts for writers. It’s a side gig to make a little extra money, nothing serious. I only work with a few clients each year and don’t advertise. It’s fun and a way to exercise my mind. I get to read interesting stories and shape them in my own little way. One of my clients is Angela Washington. Ever heard of her?”
He shook his head. “I’m not much of a reader.”
“She writes engrossing historical fiction and is a former student of mine. She’s doing a reading this summer and invited me to attend. She’s published four books so far, and I helped her with each one.”
“I thought publishing companies supplied editing services to their authors.”
“They do, but Angela is a perfectionist and likes having another set of eyes on her work before she submits. In all honesty, she’s so good I have very little work to do on her manuscripts.”
“You’re smiling a lot. You must love the work.” His eyes focused on the curve of her lips. He’d enjoyed sucking and licking the fuller bottom one.
“I do.”
Clive tugged down the sheet and exposed her breasts—dark skin capped by darker nipples. She was confident in her body. Not the least bit shy, which he appreciated.
The darkness of her skin was marred only by a pale line about two inches long on her left side. He’d noticed the scar when they were making love. He traced the mark with the tip of his finger. “How’d you get that?”
“I was in a fight in high school. This girl kept picking on me. An all-around bully, but I’d learned to fight because I had two older brothers and a mama who didn’t take no mess. I couldn’t come home and tell her anyone was picking on me and I didn’t stand up for myself. One day I told that bitch to meet me outside. We fought, but when I got the upper hand and got her down on the ground, she pulled out a knife and stabbed me.”
“Damn, that’s awful.”
“It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. I went to the hospital and she got expelled.”
Clive looked at her in amazement. “You’re either a badass or crazy.”
Renee laughed. He really liked the sound of her happiness, and her entire face brightened—especially her dark brown eyes, which captivated him with the way they lit up.
“Maybe a little bit of both. When you’re short, you learn real quick to stand up for yourself or get trampled on. I’m a teacher, and I try to pass on the same lessons to my kids that my mother taught to me. I make sure they know they need to stand up for themselves.”
“What grade do you teach?”
“Tenth-grade A.P. English and literature. Let me show you something.”
She reached over him, her breasts and chocolate nipples gliding over his chest. The lower half of his body contracted but he maintained his control, watching as she pulled a card from the top drawer of the nightstand.
�
��Read that.”
“Can’t. I don’t have my glasses.”
“I didn’t know you wear glasses.”
“I’m supposed to,” Clive said with a shrug.
“Why am I not surprised you’re vain?” Renee shook her head.
He laughed.
Renee leaned back against the pillows and read the card. “To the best teacher I’ve ever had. One day when I’m a famous writer, I’ll shout you out in all my interviews. Thank you for your encouragement. I learned to soar because of you.” She wiped the wetness from the corner of her eyes. “I received this from a student before the end of the school year. This is why I do what I do. I’m going to miss those kids when I retire.”
Clive wished he’d had a teacher like her when he was growing up. “Even the bad ones?” he asked.
“None of them are bad,” she said in a hard tone. “Some are misunderstood. Some are troubled. We don’t know what their home life is like. So many factors can determine how they behave, and I believe in all of my students and don’t allow them to give up on themselves or sell themselves short thinking they can’t succeed because of personal limitations. I make sure they know anything is possible if we work hard enough.”
Her passion and optimism made her sexier. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he originally thought. “Your husbands were fools,” he said.
“You think so?” She handed him the card, which he tucked back into the drawer.
“I know so. Why did you marry those men?”
The question seemed to take her by surprise, and she thought for a moment, staring up at the ceiling.
“At the time, I thought I loved them,” she said honestly.
“So what went wrong?”
“Different problems with each man. They changed. Or maybe I ignored who they really were until I had to face the truth in our marriage. My first husband was a professor and cheated with one of his students. My second husband was also a professor. He wanted kids even though I was clear that I didn’t want children before we got married. The third—I’m not sure what happened, but I desperately wanted that marriage to work because it was my third marriage and frankly, I was embarrassed.”
Seasoned Page 5