by Lisa G Riley
“I just asked a question, Kendra. I didn’t say anything about your father. You’re always seeing hidden meaning in things when there isn’t any. Besides, he was gone for almost three weeks. That’s an awful long time for a business trip. I just worry about you,” Camille said. “The last thing I want is for what happened to me to happen to you. It’s a horrible feeling when a man you thought loved you just up and leaves you.”
Kendra fought back a sigh. Where to begin? “I know you love me, and I know you worry about me, but there’s no reason to. Sloan is a good man, and he just happens to go away on business. That’s perfectly normal. And the reason he was gone so long was because he was trying to wrap up a big case. He’s not like Dad, but you always try to make it seem like he is. I know you mean well, but why can’t you just be happy for me that I’ve found someone?”
There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. Knowing it was designed to make her feel guilty and uncomfortable, Kendra tried very hard not to feel either. Her mother just didn’t trust men. She hadn’t since Cedric Masters had left them. Kendra knew her mother thought she was protecting her from what she believed was the inevitable, but Kendra couldn’t help but wish Camille would just let go of that particular baggage. It had been twenty years, after all, since Cedric had gone. Kendra sighed again. The relationship between her mother and her clearly wasn’t as healthy as it could be.
When Kendra finally spoke, it was only to push the conversation along. Time was precious, and she didn’t have it to waste. “Mom? You still there?” she said as she added more honey to her tea.
Camille’s voice was stifled, as if she was crying, when she said, “I don’t know why you don’t believe that I want you to be happy, Kendra. I do. All I’m saying is that Sloan takes an awful lot of trips. I feel like a criminal because I make a simple observation. You act like I deserve your disrespect. I wasn’t a bad mother. I mean, really, I was parent of the year compared to your father. I did the best I could.”
“Oh-kaaay. Um, I don’t know how we got on this subject, but since we have, I’ll just say that I know you did.”
“Well, I certainly don’t appreciate this sarcasm, young lady. I loved you fiercely, didn’t abuse you, and you had everything you needed, which is more than can be said for a lot of kids.”
Kendra closed her eyes and silently counted to twenty. This particular conversation was so familiar and so tiring that she wanted to scream. In her head, she pictured her mother sitting on her bed in silk pajamas. Her small frame would be curled in a lotus position and her dark, almost flawless skin would be covered in a facial mask, while her thick, processed hair would flow prettily around her narrow shoulders. I can only hope I look half as good when I’m her age.
Her mother was a smart, beautiful woman who had a lot to offer, yet she hadn’t been with a man in twenty years because she couldn’t let go of the past. It was just sad. Kendra sighed and answered her mother’s soft accusation. “Okay, but I certainly feel abused right now.”
Camille was silent before saying, “I know I shouldn’t have, but I spoiled you rotten. I gave you everything. You had dancing lessons, gymnastics, designer clothes—”
“I know, Mom.” Kendra cut her off in a tired voice as she reached up to adjust the tight bun resting at the back of her head. “And I thank you for all of those things…really.” She sighed again, so tired now, she could feel it in her bones. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time for this—”
As if Kendra had said nothing, Camille continued, “I didn’t have any of those things when I was a kid. And what about your sixth birthday party? It was the sweetest, most precious party a little girl could ask for. We even had pony rides, for Christ’s sake!”
Kendra lowered her arm. Well, here we go again. Anyone overhearing the conversation would think that maybe Camille had been drinking, the way her language had suddenly deteriorated, her voice rose, and she jumped subjects. Unfortunately they’d be wrong. She was not a drunk. Kendra would rather she were one. A drunk would be easier to deal with than this constant pessimism, need for reassurance, and passive-aggressive badgering. “Please, Mom, let’s not discuss that party, okay?”
“It wasn’t all bad, Kendra. There were some good things that happened that day. You do have some good memories.”
When Kendra remained silent, Camille admitted softly, “I know I shouldn’t have left you to go after your father that day, baby. You have no idea how much I’ve regretted that. But I wasn’t myself then. I wasn’t the woman I am today, and because I wasn’t, I thought I needed your father. That was a mistake.”
“I know, Mom.” Kendra leaned tiredly against the counter. “I know.” Camille constantly brought up that particular party because she felt such guilt. She’d left Kendra alone with a roomful of people neither of them really knew, but not before yelling at her when Kendra had innocently asked where she was going.
“Yes, I know you do. I know an apology isn’t nearly enough for what I did that day, but I am sorry. I wish I could apologize for your father, but I can’t. He should be here to do that. But anyway, I just hope that Sloan isn’t—”
“Mom, please don’t. Don’t attack Sloan. Stop comparing him to Dad. It isn’t fair.”
“Your Sloan leaves you an awful lot, just like your daddy used to do me.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference, Mom. Sloan leaves for business. Dad just used to leave. He’d try to make himself sound cool by telling us that he had traveling feet. But he was a bum. That’s just one difference. The major difference is that Sloan comes back when he says he will. Daddy wouldn’t come back for months at a time. He abandoned us constantly. Please stop comparing them. Not every man is like Dad. Promise me you’ll stop.”
There was no response.
Kendra ignored her silence. “Listen,” she said as she looked around the kitchen. She frowned. She’d forgotten one of her files. “I have to go. I’m still not quite ready to leave yet. I called to tell you that we’re on for lunch in two weeks. Okay?”
“Fine, Kendra. How about Bistro 110 at one?”
“That sounds good. I’ll tell Sloan, thanks. Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, honey. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know. I love you too.” Kendra clicked off, knowing that they’d solved nothing and that the potential for having the same conversation again was ridiculously huge.
She’d meant the phone call to be a preemptive one. Her mother always called her when Sloan was out of town to remind her in some way that Sloan was out of town and perhaps not coming back. Kendra hated the phone calls. They really only reminded her that Sloan could just leave her at any time.
She sometimes wondered if she should stop putting her mother’s feelings ahead of her own. Sloan was always telling her that she should. She was reminded of one particular time when he’d come home from a trip to find her upset after a particularly grinding conversation with her mother.
Chapter Five
Kendra leaned back against the counter again and sipped more of her tea and closed her eyes as she remembered that incident. She’d been in the kitchen then too, and had barely hung up the phone before she heard Sloan’s key in the lock. She didn’t like to overwhelm him with her problems, but she’d met him at the door.
Sloan had caught her with one arm when she leaped onto him and flung her arms around his neck. He had laughed and dropped his bags so he could hold her close with both arms.
“I just have one question. Did you miss me?” he’d asked before kissing her.
“God, Sloan,” she’d said. “It’s not funny. I really did miss you.”
Even though her voice had been muffled because her mouth was pressed against his neck, he must have heard the strain. “Hey,” he’d said, leaning back so he could see her face. “What’s the matter?”
Flustered, Kendra had lifted her head and smiled. “Nothing now,” she’d said and used his shoulders as leverage to boost herself up farther and wrap her leg
s around him. “I missed you; that’s all. I missed you a lot.” She’d bent her head to kiss him.
“I missed you too,” he’d said against her mouth and between kisses. He had walked them into the living room and, with a little help from her, shrugged out of his suit coat as he went. He had lowered her onto the chaise lounge and then had lain on top of her. Holding himself on his elbows, he’d looked at her face, glaring intently.
Kendra had closed her eyes, knowing what he was doing. She hated when he studied her as if he could glean everything he needed to know from just one look.
He had waited for her to open her eyes. She had practically felt his patience. Unable to stand it, she’d opened her eyes to find him still staring at her.
“What’s the matter, Ken?” he’d asked her again.
Kendra had known he wouldn’t let it go. “Mom called right before you got here.” She had loosened his tie and undone his buttons.
Sloan had narrowed his eyes and she’d been able to tell he was angry. “What the hell did she say this time? Did she tell you that I was out cheating on you? Or let me guess, she told you I probably wouldn’t be coming home. Right?”
Kendra hadn’t been able to look at him, and that had been enough to confirm his suspicions. “Why do you put up with that, Ken? She does nothing but make you feel miserable.”
“She’s my mother, Sloan.”
“Well, she should act like it. Don’t listen to a damned thing she says. I hate it when she upsets you like this.”
“I know, darling,” Kendra had said as she lifted her head to kiss the skin she’d exposed. “I don’t want to talk about her right now. You’re home.” She’d slyly shimmied her shoulders a bit to catch his full attention. She’d worn an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse and a long, full skirt. It was one of his favorite outfits.
That had done it. He’d narrowed his eyes again as he really looked at her and what she was wearing. He had taken the pins out of her bun. “Are you wearing a bra?” he’d asked her as he used his fingers to fan her hair out around her head.
“Can’t you tell?” Kendra had smiled and shook her head. “Nope.”
Keeping one hand buried in her hair, he had used his other to pull her blouse down and expose her small, pouting breasts. “What about panties?” It had come out as a growl as he lowered his head and sucked a brown nipple into his mouth.
Kendra had gone taut as a wire at the feel of his mouth on her. She’d tried to remember his question. “Aah…aah…n-n-noooooo.”
But Sloan had already known the answer, having slipped his hand under her skirt to find her vagina wet and slick and her clit hot and pulsing. His slight pinch to that small bundle of nerves had made her stutter. “Take care of my pants, Kennie-girl,” he’d said as he tongued and sucked her nipples more.
Kendra had unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants and boxers down around his thighs. She had held him in her hands, adoring the thick, full weight of his cock. “Help me, baby,” she’d begged and pushed up her skirt.
Sloan had lifted his hips and plunged, making her scream at his possession. He had taken her slowly as his mouth went back to her nipples. His fingers had been still tangled in her hair, pulling the strands as he worked his dick inside her.
Kendra had felt like she would die, the pleasure had been so great. She’d wrapped her legs around his waist and abandoned herself to her purely animalistic side, howling and clawing at his back as he’d ridden her into near oblivion.
Kendra shivered and tried to shake off the memory, but couldn’t make herself open her eyes. She’d missed Sloan and their intimacy over the past three weeks. Yesterday’s time in bed should have been enough, but it wasn’t, and she wished she could go back to their bedroom to wake him up for more lovemaking. Her sigh was full of longing and regret. “Duty calls,” she said.
*
Sloan stood in the kitchen’s entryway looking at Kendra. He wondered what she was thinking about as she leaned against the counter with her eyes closed and a mug of what he was sure was tea in her hand. She wore one of her many dark suits, and her hair was pulled back in a neat bun. In quick succession, at least two ways he could muss her up ran through his mind.
Her eyes opened and connected with his, and he knew that he’d get to try out one of those ways before she walked out the door for her breakfast meeting. She said nothing but didn’t look away either. He could tell that she was frozen with wary anticipation. She knew. Naked except for a pair of boxers, he stalked her. She still didn’t move and didn’t break eye contact.
He took the mug from her hand and put it in the sink. Bending his head, he stopped short of kissing her. Her breath shuddered out and whispered across his lips. “Challenge,” he demanded.
This time her breath came out in a whoosh. “But…Kyle…”
“Tied one on last night and is upstairs dead to the world for at least a couple more hours. Challenge,” he demanded again.
A jerky nod was her only response. She loved and hated his challenges, because she always lost them.
“I bet I can make you scream without messing up this tidy little outfit of yours or getting a strand of your hair out of place.”
“And mine?”
“Your challenge, sweetheart”—he slipped his hands under her skirt and groaned when he encountered the smooth flesh of her behind—“is”—he slid his hands up to her waist, pushing the skirt up as he went—“to not”—he lifted her onto the counter, knelt in front of her, and pushed the cloth of her thong aside—“scream,” he finished and wrapped his lips around her swollen clit.
“Oh God!” Kendra moaned and her head fell back and hit the cabinet. The pads of her feet landed on each of his shoulders, and she fed herself to him. The man can eat out like nobody’s business. His tongue shot out to lick and suck at her clitoris. She snatched at his hair when he abruptly started licking her labia from bottom to top.
“Sloan!” The word escaped when he started taking little nips with his teeth. He slid his tongue into her opening, and she could have sworn she actually felt herself losing her mind. Her movements completely frantic now, she pushed herself toward her orgasm, closing her thighs around his head and riding his face until there was nothing left for her to do but thank her Maker for making her a woman—Sloan’s woman—and to…scream.
Sloan stood and pulled her close, groaning when she wrapped her legs around his waist so that her heat enclosed his penis. “Do you really think I brought a condom with me, Kennie-girl?” he asked with a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“‘S’okay,” she whispered back and tightened her legs. “We’re clear.”
“No, no,” he said with difficulty and unwrapped her legs. “We don’t have time. You know I’m going to take you to your meeting. It’s too early for you to be out by yourself.”
Kendra moaned when he stepped away. “But, Sloan, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not letting you walk through the garage by yourself.” He lifted her from the counter and helped her stand, smoothing her skirt down over her hips. “And since I’m up, I may as well drive you to the breakfast. Where is it, by the way?”
Kendra frowned and tried to piece together his question. They were having breakfast at the hotel where her client was staying. She told him the name of it.
“Cool. It won’t take us long to get there. I’ll get ready in the spare bathroom while you refresh yourself in ours. Meet you back down here in ten minutes.”
Feeling a bit sleepy and with her head in a whirl, Kendra swayed on her feet as she watched him leave the room. She loved him, but at times like this—when all she wanted was to feel his erection plunging between her thighs—she cursed that he was so damned protective. If he didn’t feel the need to take her to her meeting, thereby making it necessary for him to take those ten minutes to get dressed, they could finish what they had started. Hell, she calculated, we could be finished in fewer than five. Lips twisted in resignation that for the foreseeable future, the only thing she’d be rid
ing was the passenger seat, Kendra poured her tea down the sink and left to freshen up.
“What time do you think you’ll be home today?” Sloan asked as he pulled out of the parking garage and onto their leafy, sleepy side street.
“I don’t know,” Kendra said with a shrug. “Ten or so, I guess. No, make that about eleven. This breakfast will probably go longer than most. I have a feeling the client wants to really dig her heels in today. Why? What are you and Kyle up to?”
“We’ll be going out to my parents’, so we probably won’t be home when you get there. I’ll leave the car with you and walk home,” he finished as they turned onto Lake Shore Drive.
Kendra studied the sparkling blue of Lake Michigan as they drove. “No, Sloan, take the car back. You’ll have a hard time finding parking down here, and I don’t want to pay for parking. It will be hard to find on the street, and the lots and garages are too expensive. I can walk home later or take a taxi. You didn’t have to drive me, you know. All you had to do was walk me to the garage and wait for me to get into my car. So there’s a reason for this. What is it?”
“I’m sure you already know the reason,” Sloan said as he navigated onto Michigan Avenue. “It’s about yesterday. I didn’t talk about it because Kyle was on his way up, but now is as good a time as any.”
“Now? When I’m about to go meet a client in person for the very first time? Now is a good time?”
“It’s as good a time as any,” he repeated definitively. “It’s not like we’ll be covering new ground here, but I feel it has to be said. You need to trust me, Kendra, or how else will this relationship work?”
“I am sorry about last night, Sloan. You know I love you, and I do trust you. Some things are just harder to get over than others, and I am much better than I was before—”
“Yeah, I know you’re better and you’re working on it,” Sloan interrupted. “But what I really want to know is what I can do to help you get there. I love you, and I’m tired of feeling like I’m banging my head against a brick wall.”