by Lisa G Riley
“Not at all. It’s the first service, so Pastor Mark is nice and fresh. He gives a hundred percent at the early-riser service, and I like it like that.”
Kendra thought about all the shouting and pontificating the pastor had done that morning. “Appears to me that he may have given at least a hundred and ten percent today.”
“I know. He really brought the house down this morning,” Camille agreed. “Are you going to help me with dessert too?”
“What are we having?”
“I thought I’d make a key-lime pie and a yellow cake with chocolate icing.”
“Wow, Mom. How were you going to have enough time to do all of that if I hadn’t invited myself over?”
“I’d have managed,” Camille assured her. “Besides, the Early Riser Luncheon Ladies aren’t due until two, and it’s not even ten yet.”
“I’m sorry for horning in on your ladies’ group, Mom. I had no idea that it was your turn to host the luncheon.”
“You didn’t horn in. You’re my daughter, so there’s no such thing when it comes to you. The girls will enjoy seeing you again.”
“It will be good to see them again too. How is everyone doing?”
“Everyone is doing well. Ms. Thomas just came back from the Bahamas.” Camille leaned in closer and, in a scandalized whisper, said, “She picked herself up one of those young gigolos while she was down there too.”
“No way! Not Ms. Thomas who used to teach vacation Bible school to all the neighborhood kids?”
“The very same.”
“Well, she’s been a widow for what? Five years now? Why shouldn’t she pull a Stella and get her groove back?”
Camille’s laughter pealed musically into the room in appreciation of the joke, but in a serious voice, she said, “Trust me, Kendra, this is nothing like the book or the movie. This is real life. He’s moved in, and her kids are furious. They think he’s trying to take advantage of her. Their father left her pretty well set financially.”
“How old is this gigolo anyway?”
“My age, at least.”
“But, Mom, you’re fifty-five!” Kendra sat back with a scoff and tried not to laugh too hard. “And Ms. Thomas is what? Sixty-two? Sixty-three? The age difference is negligible. Her kids should mind their own business.”
Camille was indignant. “Yes, well, I’m sure knowing that he’s only seven years younger will be a huge comfort to Faith when she finds out he’s robbed her blind in the middle of the night! Those kids have every right to be worried.”
Kendra could tell that she had crossed the line, and she tried to tiptoe back over it. “Why, Mom? What has he done to make them think that he’s after her money?”
“So you’re saying that you wouldn’t try to protect me if some man tried to take advantage of me?”
Kendra sighed. Once again, her mother let her emotions get the best of her, and made the conversation about her. “But that would never happen, Mom. You don’t let men get close enough to you to try anything, let alone take advantage of you—financially, sexually, or otherwise. Though I think sexually might do you some good.”
Camille narrowed her eyes. “Watch your mouth, Kendra Casey Masters. Show some respect.”
Kendra held her hands up, palms outward. “All right. I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. And as soon as Camille looked away to peel more sweet potatoes, a mumbled “but I’m just saying, though,” escaped Kendra’s mouth.
Camille looked at her. Kendra recognized the look as the one her mother used right before she issued a reprimand. Playfully, Kendra smiled angelically back at her.
“I don’t know why I put up with your foolishness,” Camille said with a chuckle.
“You love me; that’s why. Are you making your homemade frosting?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Save the bowl for me.”
Camille looked surprised. “I know you’re not planning on licking it.”
“Yes, I am. Why not?”
“Because you’re a grown woman, Kendra,” she said slowly.
“What? A person is supposed to lose her sense of taste just because she’s an adult?”
“No, but she is supposed to gain a sense of decorum because she’s one.”
“Oh…” Kendra said in mock disappointment and paused in mock contemplation. “Well, I’ll do that tomorrow. Today I’m licking the bowl.”
“You’re a mess,” Camille said lightly and shook her head.
Kendra laughed and went back to shredding cheese.
“So,” Camille began and picked up her cup of coffee to take a drink. “Why didn’t Sloan come with you?”
Kendra froze for a moment and then made herself relax. “Why should he have?” she asked as she looked up. “He didn’t want to, and you feel better without him here, so I thought I’d spare both of you and come by myself.”
Camille didn’t even try to deny it. “So you plan to spend the whole day here with me?” she asked skeptically. “Without Sloan?”
Kendra rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom. Why is that so hard to believe? Sloan doesn’t go everywhere with me. I don’t need him to hold my hand.”
“Oh please, Kendra. It’s hard to believe because you haven’t done it in ages. I can’t remember the last time I was able to see you without that boy attached to your side. The two of you are like a couple of conjoined twins—it’s impossible to see one without the other.”
“It isn’t that bad, Mom. You’re exaggerating.”
“Hmmph, no, I’m not. It’s just a shame that I can’t see my daughter without some big manly presence lurking around.”
Kendra sighed. “Look, Mom, I’m sorry if I haven’t been spending much time alone with you. I’ll do better. But I am going to marry Sloan, so don’t you think you should at least try to enjoy spending time with him?” The front doorbell rang, and Kendra saw relief enter Camille’s eyes before she stood up. “Saved by the bell,” she muttered as her mother rushed from the room.
She rose to wash her hands at the sink, thinking that she’d shredded enough cheese. She’d come to her mother’s house to tell her something, and she now knew that she’d leave without having said anything about it. During the last session, Dr. Pendegrast had asked her what Camille’s response had been to her being in therapy. Kendra’s answer was that she hadn’t told Camille yet. “Lord, what’d I do that for?” she muttered tiredly now as she remembered the conversation that had followed.
“Why haven’t you told her, Kendra?”
“I just haven’t.”
“When do you plan on telling her?”
“I don’t know. I wish I didn’t have to.”
“Why not?”
“Take a wild guess, Doctor.”
“I’d like to, Kendra, but we both know it would be easier if you just told me.”
“She won’t take it well, and I don’t feel like the drama.”
“Why should your mother’s feelings on the issue matter more than your getting better? And why should you feel guilty for getting the help that you feel you need?”
Kendra had had no answer.
“Do you think it might be easier to tell her if you don’t make a big deal out of it? What if you just called her up and told her? It would be a good step for you to take.”
“I can’t just call her and tell her something like that. I’ll have to go and see her. I’ll have to ease her into it.”
“Will it really be that difficult for you to tell your mother that you’re getting therapy? Don’t you think she should be happy that you’re getting help so you can be happy?”
“I can’t tell her over the phone. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“So your intention is to butter her up? Make the blow have less impact, so to speak? What I’m saying is that the fact that you’re going to therapy shouldn’t be considered a blow in the first place. And if it is you should try not to let it affect you as much as your mother would want it to. Your feelings need to count for something in all of this, Ken
dra.”
As Kendra dried her hands, she remembered how frustrated Dr. Pendegrast had looked when she finally gave up on trying to convince her that a phone call would suffice. Of course Sloan agreed with Dr. Pendegrast. But Kendra hadn’t been able to bring herself to confess via a phone call. If I’m going to betray my mother, I should at least have the guts to do it in person. She knew it was ridiculous to feel like she’d be betraying her, but the sense of it was definitely there. And she’d put off telling her long enough.
“But I can’t tell her now,” Kendra said aloud to the empty room. “Not when she’s having company in a few hours. It would ruin her day.” When Camille came back, Kendra smiled, relieved to have found a way out of her dilemma. She’d just enjoy the day with her mother, something she hadn’t done in a long time.
*
Kendra walked into the bedroom to find Sloan sleeping. She walked closer, stepping out of her shoes as she went. She smiled because he slept like a kid: on his back and spread out to encompass most of the bed. Love swamped her from just that one look, and she shivered. Getting into the bed, she lay flat on top of him, feeling cherished when, even in sleep, he lifted his arms to embrace her. She burrowed into him, burying her nose in the notch under his chin and taking in his unique scent.
Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his chest and enjoyed just being in his presence. She knew he loved her and reveled in the fact, her mouth stretching into a contented smile, her arms tightening around him, and her toes curling into the mattress from the pure happiness she felt. She felt the emotion so powerfully that tears pricked the backs of her eyes. In that one perfect moment, she was overwhelmed by happiness and the knowledge that this man loved her deeply and unconditionally and had almost from the first moment they met.
She raised her head to look at his face and felt the emotion deepen. Unable to keep it to herself, she urgently pressed her mouth to his, lifting her hands to hold his face. She felt his hands move to squeeze her behind and knew that he had awakened. She smiled into his eyes. “I love you, Sloan,” she said before pressing her mouth back to his and easing her tongue into his mouth.
She was unable to get enough of him, and she worshipped his body with hers, her hands sliding under his T-shirt to caress his skin, while her thighs widened around his. Kendra lifted her mouth to look at him again, and she pressed her finger against his lips when he would have spoken. “Shh. Let me,” she said softly, almost desperately. “Just…let me.”
She felt his erection pulsing at the apex of her thighs and, with closed eyes, she sat up and rubbed her cleft against it as she took off her blouse and camisole. He gripped her hips and she gently pushed his hands away. “Let me,” she said again and took his T-shirt over his head. Slowly she slid her torso down to his so that her nipples were buried in the hair on his chest. She took his mouth again, lovingly stroking his lips with hers while she continued to grind her mound against his cock.
Kendra kissed and tongued him, finally taking his nipple in her mouth, and sucked it until they were both squirming with need. Bracing herself on his chest, she lifted up, pulled up her long skirt, and pushed her thong aside. She then pulled down his jogging pants and boxers and then she was feeling his erection…touching it. Gratefully she slowly began to take him into her body, her eyes once again closing in sheer joy and pleasure.
She took her time riding him and savored every inch entering her. He brought his hands up to grip her hips, and this time she let him, bending down to drink from his mouth as familiar little explosions began to go off inside her. As if he knew what was going through her mind, Sloan didn’t rush things and kept the pace slow, until they were both sweating from the effort. He lovingly kissed her, and Kendra shattered inside while her cries filled the room and her tears splashed onto his skin.
Chapter Sixteen
“Are you all right?” Sloan asked a little later as he held Kendra in his arms. He’d felt the desperation in her lovemaking. Things must not have gone well at her mother’s.
Kendra didn’t lift her head from his chest. “Didn’t you like my greeting?”
“I think what you just said is what is commonly known as an understatement,” he said through a yawn. She wasn’t ready to talk about it, then. He’d get it out of her later. He pushed his boxers and pants completely off and closed his eyes, more than ready to go back to sleep.
“Did you make it to Mass today?”
“No,” he admitted. “After I came back up from making sure you got off okay, I turned on the television while I made some breakfast, and I got snared by a Henry the Eighth marathon on the History Channel. After that I went out for a run, had some lunch, and took a walk around downtown. I couldn’t resist the sunny weather after all the rain we’ve been having. How was your visit with your mom?”
“It went really well, but I haven’t told her about my therapy yet,” she said as she ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Today she hosted the monthly luncheon with her church group, and I didn’t want to ruin her day, so I didn’t say anything. I’ll have to tell her on the telephone after all, because with our schedules, I don’t know when I’ll see her again.”
Sloan’s grunt was noncommittal. “Did you bring me any food?”
“So I guess I’ll call—” He felt her lift her head, and knew she was looking at him. “What?”
Sloan didn’t open his eyes as he repeated his question.
Kendra sounded confused as she asked for clarification, “You’re asking me about food?”
“Yes.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?”
“Yes. Well, no, actually,” Sloan said sleepily. “Did she make chocolate cake?”
“You have no comment about how I should have told my mother, regardless of who was coming over?”
“No.”
“Really,” she said in mock disbelief. “And just why don’t you?”
Sloan finally opened his eyes. “Because the deed is done—or in this case, the decision was made—and the opportunity has passed. I don’t see how my saying anything could add anything useful to the situation. And besides, I agree with you. You shouldn’t have told her and ruined her day. At this point, though, there’s a bigger question that needs to be asked. Why should the fact that you’re seeing a therapist ruin her day? Now,” he said and kissed her nose, “what’d you bring me?”
“Roast beef, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, green beans, salad, dinner rolls, and yellow cake with chocolate icing,” Kendra listed, frowning as she looked at him. “You sound just like Dr. Pendegrast,” she said, moving as he made to get off the bed.
“Do I?” Sloan asked as he fished his boxers out of the sheets and pulled them on. “Hmm. And I don’t even have a degree in psychology. How about that?” He walked into the bathroom.
Kendra followed him. “So you blame my mother too?” She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed under her naked breasts.
She knew she was spoiling for a fight, and that he didn’t deserve one. But he was convenient. She knew it, and she wanted the fight anyway.
Sloan looked over at her as he washed and then dried his hands. “I didn’t know psychologists actually placed blame on people, especially after only two sessions. Wow, she must really be perceptive.”
“It’s not my mother’s fault,” she insisted.
“Why don’t you think it is?”
“Because.”
“Well, that was crystal clear.” Sloan walked over and took her shoulders in his hands. “I don’t want to argue about it, Ken. Really I don’t. I think I’ve said all I can about the matter over the past couple of years.”
Kendra scowled and moved into his arms. “God, I hate it when you’re so damned reasonable. It certainly takes the wind out of the sails.”
“We all have our strengths. I did want to ask you something, though.”
“What?”
“How do you think therapy is going so far? You’ve barely talked to me about it.”
“That’s because I’m so angry and fed up when it’s over that I don’t want to think about it.” She was mumbling it to his chest, exhaustion dragging every word.
“Okay, I can understand that. But how do you think your sessions are going? What do you think of Dr. Pendegrast?”
“They’re going okay,” she admitted reluctantly. “It’s good to be able to talk without feeling like I’m being judged.”
“Good. That’s all I need to hear. Now,” he said as he lifted her on her toes and bent his head so he could nibble at a nipple. “I’m hungry—for you and for food. Which one do you think I should I have first?”
*
“Thank you guys for driving me,” Kyle said as he retrieved his bags from the trunk of Sloan’s car. “You didn’t have to, you know.” He turned to give Kendra a hug after setting his luggage on the ground.
“Of course we did,” Kendra contradicted him. “And you’d better be back here in time for the wedding, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
Kyle laughed and released her. “I believe you,” he assured her. “Now pucker up and give me a good-bye kiss.”
Kendra kissed and hugged him one last time. “I’ll miss you, Kyle.”
“Right back at you.” Turning, he gave Sloan a hug as well.
“Be careful, Kyle,” Sloan said for his brother’s ears only. “I want you in one piece for my wedding.”
“No worries,” Kyle promised as he picked up his luggage.
“Keep in touch this time,” Kendra called after him as he walked toward the sliding-glass doors.
“I will.”
“You think he’ll be okay?” she asked as they pulled away from the curb.
“I can only hope. Want to stop somewhere for lunch?” Sloan asked as he squinted his eyes against the sunlight.
“Sure. I can’t believe Kyle was able to talk your parents out of seeing him off, especially your mom,” Kendra commented and leaned over to put his sunglasses on for him.
“Thanks,” Sloan said absently as he changed lanes. “I don’t know how he did it, but he did. I’m sure the fact that he spent his last couple of days with them didn’t hurt.”