The Sweetest Thing

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “Have you hit her?” she asked, his face cupped between her hands as she stared into his eyes.

  Quentin leaned forward, waiting for his response. The man blinked, his eyes closing then opening as he took a deep breath. It was written all over his face and Quentin clenched his own fists, his jaw tightening.

  Dwayne finally spoke. “It is a daily struggle for me to not be that kind of man. I’m going to counseling, working with a therapist, and things are good with us right now. I’m going to break this cycle. I have to.”

  His mother nodded. She leaned to kiss his forehead before she released the grip she had on his face.

  “My new daughter-in-law will need to know she and your baby have a place to run to if you do not keep your word.” She looked at Quentin, the question unspoken.

  He nodded. “She will always be able to come to Harper and me.”

  Mrs. Porter smiled. “Is Harper your wife?”

  “We plan to be married in the next few months.”

  The woman nodded. “I look forward to meeting Harper and I hope you’ll invite me to the wedding.”

  He nodded. “Of course!”

  She paused, her head still bobbing ever so slightly. “I was grateful that your father’s door was always open to Dwayne and me,” she said. “You’ll never know how much.” Her smile lifted the worry lines that creased her forehead. “Dwayne!”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I think dinner Sunday will be a nice time for me to get to know my new daughter-in-law. Miss Lynn will have the food on the table at three o’clock. Please, don’t be late.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Quentin, will you and your young lady be able to join us as well?”

  “We wouldn’t want to intrude on your family, Mrs. Porter.”

  “Nonsense! You and Dwayne are like brothers. So you are my family, too. I appreciate how you are supporting him. I expect you both to be here.”

  Quentin and Dwayne locked gazes. Dwayne shrugged.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Quentin responded.

  She came to her feet. “Dwayne, come help your old mother up the stairs. Quentin, if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with my son before he leaves. You are welcome to anything in my home. Just see Miss Lynn.”

  Both men stood up. “It was good to see you again, Mrs. Porter,” Quentin said, leaning to kiss the woman’s cheek.

  Pressing a warm palm to his cheek, she smiled. She reached for his hand and pulled it to her ample chest, placing it directly over her heart. Her other hand was clasped tightly above it, her fingers tapping lightly. And Quentin remembered everything that was good about the mid-1990s.

  He was sitting in the car when Dwayne finally exited his mother’s home. Quentin didn’t bother to ask what the two had talked about. He imagined the hurt the two of them needed to work through was just beginning. Dwayne was settled in the passenger seat, the seat belt locked around his waist and Quentin still hadn’t started the vehicle. His friend looked at him, his stare questioning.

  Quentin had a tight grip on the steering wheel, every muscle clenched. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “Right here, right now, I’m giving you a clean slate. But from this point forward if I even think you’re putting your hands on Rachel, I’m going to whip your ass. We clear?”

  Dwayne turned to stare out the window. “Crystal.”

  Quentin took another breath and started the engine. As he pulled the car out of the home’s circular driveway, Dwayne tossed him one last look.

  “Thank you,” Dwayne said.

  Quentin cut his eye at him and nodded.

  As they rounded the corner, heading toward downtown, Dwayne suddenly chuckled. “It’s been twenty years and you’re still copping feels off my mother!”

  It was late and Dwayne was still in his office. Most of his employees were gone for the evening and as he took a quick glance at his watch he fathomed that he needed to be headed home as well. The knock on the door startled him from the files he was reviewing.

  Rising from his seat he pulled the structure open. Rachel stood on the other side, her eyes wide.

  “Hey,” she chimed.

  “Hey, yourself,” Dwayne responded. “How did you get in?”

  “Your security guy. I asked him not to call you. I wanted to surprise you.”

  Dwayne leaned to kiss her lips. “I’m surprised. What brings you here?”

  “I was missing you. You’re always here lately and I don’t get to see you much.”

  “I’m sorry for that but duty calls.” Dwayne moved back to his desk and sat down.

  Rachel nodded. An awkward silence rippled between them. Rachel was suddenly nervous, feeling wholeheartedly out of place. Dwayne sensed her discomfort, lifting his eyes to hers.

  “What’s up?” he questioned. “Why do I get the impression that this isn’t a casual visit?”

  “I’ve really missed you,” she said.

  Dwayne looked confused. “You see me every day. I come home to you every night. What are you missing?”

  Rachel moved to the center of the room. She unbuttoned her shirt, slowly pulling it off her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She eased the zipper down on her skirt and kicked it from around her feet. Standing in a red lace camisole and matching thong, she rested her palms on her slightly pregnant bulge.

  Dwayne smiled, rising from his seat. He moved around the desk to the other side, his eyes still locked on hers. Dwayne watched as she stroked herself, her fingers disappearing beneath the elastic of her thong. Moving to him she lifted her fingers to his mouth, urging him to taste her as he sucked the digits one by one. When her fingers were clean she turned, brushing against him as she moved to his desk and lowered her torso across the top. Her ass was sky high, her long legs standing on her designer pumps. Dwayne was suddenly rock hard and eager, his dick pressing tight against the fabric of his pants.

  Looking over her shoulder Rachel watched him eyeing her, his eyes darting downward and back. The intensity of his stare made her knees buckle and she pressed her forearms and palms against the wood surface to support herself, still waving her buttocks in invitation.

  Behind her, Dwayne moved to the office door and locked it. She turned to sit atop the desk and watched as he moved back to stand in front of her. He lowered his zipper, slowly freeing himself from the confines of his pants. Rachel looked to his face and he smirked. She reached a hand out to help him open his fly and he slapped her hand away, shaking his head. Rachel bit down on her bottom lip as he undid his pants, allowing them to drop to the floor. Sliding off the desk she dropped to her knees in front of him. His hardening member was bouncing inches from her face.

  Leaning forward, her mouth open, Rachel stuck out her tongue and licked the head of his member. Dwayne grinned, clenching his muscles as a wave of heat shot through him. The vein on the top of his organ pulsed in anticipation. She ran her tongue down the underside of his shaft until she reached the top of his testicles. She licked one and then the other, then slid her tongue back up the side. Drawing her tongue down the length of him a second time and then back up the other side, she paused to flick the underside of the head, which had Dwayne quivering with anticipation. Sensing his excitement Rachel leaned forward and enveloped his head with her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the fullness of him and he moaned. She felt him growing harder and thicker beneath her lips, his warm flesh filling her mouth. Glancing up to his face, she saw his smile was triumphant, moving her own smile to widen as she eagerly sucked more of him in.

  Rachel’s head bobbed back and forth, drawing him deeper and deeper into her mouth until she felt him hit the back of her throat. Dwayne gasped as he grabbed her head, his fingers twisting in her hair and Rachel moaned. He pumped his hips, easing himself past her lips, slowly pulling back then thrusting back into her mouth as he pulled her head forward. In and out, faster and faster, the intensity of each stroke had her breathing harder and harder, Dwayne panting in sync above her.

  He
suddenly arched backward, pulling himself from her mouth. “Stop, don’t,” he said, “I don’t want to come in your mouth.” Still holding her by the hair he pulled her to her feet, capturing her mouth beneath his, his lips and tongue tangling with hers.

  “What do you want?” Dwayne asked, his kisses running from one side of her face to the other. “Tell me what you want.”

  Spinning in his arms Rachel leaned back over the desk. Reaching behind her with both hands she spread the cheeks of her buttocks apart. She gasped in anticipation as she squeezed the soft flesh with her hands. Full and hard, Dwayne moved forward slapping one cheek and then the other.

  “Again,” Rachel gushed. “Harder!”

  Dwayne smiled as he slapped her ass again, stinging the flesh until her bottom was bright red and then he slipped his hand between her legs. His fingers stroked her clit, then slid through the door of her secret spot. He coated his fingers with her juices and drew them up to lubricate the puckered door awaiting his arrival.

  When she was nice and wet he eased in behind her, pushing her head forward on the desk, holding her down at the back of her neck. Rachel spread her legs wider, bracing her weight on her forearms. He circled her orifice with his organ and she felt him twitch. Dwayne gently pushed himself forward. There was modicum of resistance and Rachel bit down against her bottom lip, the hint of pain moving her to hold her breath. She suddenly pushed back against him and with a hard pop he was deep inside of her.

  Dwayne paused, allowing her to get used to having him there and when her body had adjusted to the fullness Rachel began to grind against him. She pulled away from him then thrust herself back against him. Her strokes were slow and easy and then she screamed his name, demanding him to take the lead. She wanted it rough and she said so.

  Rachel pushed back hard as she gripped the desk. Leaning over her Dwayne wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her to his chest. He thrust against her. He pulled back then thrust against her again, deeper and deeper until he’d bottomed out, filling her with more and more of him until she was completely impaled. Rachel continued to rock back and forth with him, matching his thrusts, their two bodies slapping against each other.

  Rachel was loving the sensations sweeping between them. She began to clench and squeeze her muscles and Dwayne tightened the grip he had on the back of her head. “Oh, yes!” she cried, the pleasure outweighing the pain. He slammed into her, his round hips and buttocks working into her like the piston in an engine, over and over again.

  She talked dirty to him, encouraged him to stroke her harder, praised his efforts and chanted his name over and over again as if she were in prayer. Dwayne could feel his orgasm rising, the heat stirring deep in his pelvis and then Rachel screamed, erupting with a vengeance as she milked him harder and harder, the satin lining of her inner muscles pulsing with pleasure. He exploded blast after blast shooting deep into her inner core until there was nothing else left for him to shoot.

  Rachel fell against the desk and Dwayne fell against her, bracing his own weight on his hands. His arms shook, tremors shooting through each of his muscles as he gasped for air. As he began to slowly shrink he pulled himself from her, falling back against the leather sofa. Rachel stood up and moved to his side, dropping down into his arms. He leaned to kiss her lips, his hand cupped beneath her chin.

  “That was amazing,” Rachel whispered.

  He nodded. “Yes, you were.”

  “I miss it when you’re not hard and dirty. I need you to pull my hair and bite me and spank me. It sometimes needs to hurt to feel good. I don’t like it when you’re spending all your time treating me like I’m fragile.”

  “But I don’t want to hurt you. Or the baby.”

  Rachel nodded, snuggling closer against him. “I won’t ever do anything that will hurt the baby but our lovemaking has never been soft and sweet and I really don’t want it to be.”

  “Maybe just once or twice,” he said with a slight smile.

  Rachel smiled back. “Maybe.”

  23

  Exactly six months after their father’s funeral Quentin asked Harper to marry him. The proposal had come in the middle of the night during an alleged cupcake tasting. He’d hidden a one-and-one-half-carat, princess-cut diamond engagement ring, complemented by lines of round diamonds along a band of fourteen-carat white gold, between layers of blue velvet cake with fresh blueberry crème and cream cheese frosting. The moment had almost been disastrous when Troy had shown up unannounced, grabbing the wrong treat off the silver tray. Every time Harper looked at the ring on her left hand she smiled at the memory.

  She took a deep breath, sucking in her size-six waist as Jasmine buttoned the thirty-plus crystal buttons that closed her satin fit-and-flare gown with its bubble-hem skirt, stretched net illusion neckline with accents of embellished lace and cap sleeves. Her gown was understated and elegant and bore no resemblance to the mountain of taffeta and lace that her best friend had insisted was the dress to end all other dresses. She turned to face her grandmother and Jasmine, the two women fighting tears.

  “You look beautiful,” Mama Pearl crooned as she tapped her cane gently against the floor. “Absolutely beautiful.”

  Jasmine nodded. “Not bad. Not bad at all!”

  Harper smiled and she spun around to study her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her smile suddenly faded and she did an about-face. “I’m scared!” she said, her voice a loud whisper.

  Jasmine shook her head. “A little late, you think?”

  Her grandmother waved a dismissive hand at Jasmine. She nodded. “You should be. Marriage isn’t a game. This is serious business. If you wasn’t scared I’d be worried.”

  “But I don’t want to be scared!” Harper exclaimed, her eyes wide. “This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I want to be happy!”

  “You are happy,” Jasmine said. “You are marrying the man of your dreams in your dream dress with your dream party-planner. Trust me when I tell you, you’re happy!”

  Mama Pearl chuckled softly. She rose from her seat and moved to Harper’s side. Harper wrapped her arms around her grandmother’s shoulders and hugged her tightly. The matriarch kissed her cheek. “You are happy,” she said as she stared into the young woman’s eyes. “And we can all see it. When you left home your life was spinning in circles. You were looking for something and you didn’t know what that was. When you came back I could see the change in you. If I thought for a second that this was not right, your behind would be back in Baton Rouge right now. Now pull yourself together and go make that nice boy the happiest man in the whole wide world.”

  Harper nodded, a tear teasing her lashes. The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Jasmine moved to the entrance and peeked out. “Who is it?”

  Rachel stood on the other side. “It’s just me,” she said as she moved inside. She smiled, her gown stretched over her very pregnant belly. She looked like she’d swallowed two watermelons.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Harper asked. “You look like you’re about to bust!”

  Rachel nodded. “I’m good. Three more weeks and I’ll be even better.”

  “You look very pretty, too!” Mama Pearl said. “All three of you girls make a beautiful bridal party!”

  Rachel smiled. “They’re ready for you when you are,” she said, meeting Harper’s gaze.

  Harper blew a deep breath, shaking her arms out to her sides. “I’m scared,” she chimed a second time, her eyes wide.

  Rachel nodded. “You are marrying the greatest guy. And he loves you very much,” she said, tears rising to her eyes. “I don’t ever remember Quentin being this happy. Dwayne and I are really excited for both of you.”

  Harper reached for Rachel’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. I really appreciate that coming from you.”

  Jasmine laughed. “Girl, she’s got her own husband now, she don’t want yours!”

  “Jasmine!” Mama Pearl and Harper both chided.

  Rach
el laughed. “She’s right! I really don’t want Quentin. In all honesty I never really did. I’ve always loved Dwayne,” she said as she hunched her shoulders in a slight shrug.

  “Well, I’m just glad you three were able to work through everything,” Harper said. “And I’m really happy that Quentin has his best friend back.”

  Rachel nodded in agreement. “They really are better together than they are apart.”

  “And I’m glad you two can be friends ’cause she really needs someone to keep her on the straight and narrow when I’m not around,” Jasmine chimed.

  Harper and Rachel cut an eye at each other, their heads waving from side to side. Mama Pearl moved toward the door. “Y’all come on before Harper changes her mind and I have to take her back home with me.”

  Harper laughed. “You don’t want me to come back home with you?”

  Her grandmother tossed her a look over her shoulder and smiled. She winked an easy eye at her granddaughter. “Jasmine lets me date!”

  “They’re like a gaggle of hens,” Quentin said as he and Harper danced cheek to cheek in the middle of the room.

  Harper looked over to the large table where Mama Pearl, Miss Alice, Mrs. Porter, and Mrs. Todd were holding court. She nodded. “I wonder what they’re talking about because they look like they’re up to no good,” she said.

  “I can only imagine them talking about what a beautiful bride you are and how handsome a groom I am.”

  Harper tossed them another look. She shook her head and laughed. “No, they’re well past that!”

  Quentin laughed. He pulled her closer and leaned to kiss her lips. It was sweet and gentle and one of many he planned to share with her in their lifetime. “That’s okay because I’m saying you are the most beautiful bride in the whole wide world.”

  Harper grinned. “Well, thank you, Mr. Elliott. You have great taste!”

  “You’re very welcome, Mrs. Elliott!”

  Harper’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Elliott! I really like how that sounds.”