The Hot Spot

by Niobia Bryant

  He bent his legs and placed his arms atop them as he let his head hang, looking down at his thick hardness straining against his jeans as it ran down the top of his thigh.

  What am I going to do with her? he wondered, because he knew that things between them were far from over.

  As soon as Zaria walked through the front door, she dropped everything in her hand onto her coffee table and turned to the couch to fall promptly onto it. Zaria shifted to her side on the couch, and her eyes fell on her cell phone sitting there. Mocking her. Nagging her. Tempting her. Call him. Call him, Zaria.

  She closed her eyes, feeling fatigued and completely drained of energy and will. Seeing Kaleb had shaken her to the core, and she still hadn’t recovered. How could she when he was all she thought about during her ride home?

  She loved him. Completely.

  She missed him. Totally.

  She wanted him. Unabashedly.

  Zaria shifted over onto her back and covered her eyes with her forearm. She thought of the countless nights they had shared right here in her house. Laughing. Playing. Talking. Making love.

  She smiled at a vision of her and Kaleb making love in front of her fireplace in the dead of summer. They both had wanted to enjoy the experience, so they turned the air as high as it would go—and still sweated like crazy. The moisture had caused their bodies to easily slide and glide over one another, intensifying their play. . . .

  As the sound of the lit log crackled inside the fireplace, Zaria dug her knees into the plush padding of the area rug as the fire cast a bronzed glow on their naked bodies as she rode him. She leaned down to taste Kaleb’s mouth before sitting up straight again and continuing to work her hips in a slow circle that pleased them both. Kaleb brought his hands up to tease her nipples as her sweat ran down her body like droplets of rain on a windowpane.

  She picked up the pace, working her hips in a grind that rivaled the baddest reggae dancer. She bit her bottom lip as she rode him hard and fast—her heart pounding in her ears with the vibrancy of a steel drum. Her body tingled as that crazy energy they created swirled around them with the force of a storm with the power to amaze and destroy. “Kaleb,” she gasped, leaning forward to clutch at his hard chest as she worked nothing but her hips, sending her wet and tight core up and down the length of him as she also worked him rhythmically with the muscles of her walls.

  “Get that nut, baby,” he moaned up to her, his face fierce and warriorlike as he watched her like a hawk by the firelight.

  “Come in me,” Zaria begged, biting her lips with a moan as she bent down to grasp his face and kiss him deeply. Their eyes locked. “Come in me. I want your baby, Kaleb. Give me a baby.”

  Kaleb’s eyes sharpened on her as an energy like nothing he knew filled him as he grabbed her hips, bent his legs to press his feet into the plush carpeting, and then began to thrust upward into her against her walls. He was relentless. Each thrust more powerful than the last but never hurting her. Just fulfilling her. Completing her. With power and passion.

  Zaria spread her knees atop him, opening herself to him. “I want your baby,” she whispered again into his mouth with a soft smile.

  “I want you to come with me,” he said, his voice shaky as he felt his release building.

  Zaria began to move her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. “I am,” she told him, before she released a deep guttural moan and clutched wildly at the carpet as explosions went off inside her.

  Kaleb cried out as he felt each and every spasm that sent his seed deep within. . . .

  Zaria’s eyes popped open and she scrunched up her face in confusion.

  What started out as a nice and steamy trip down memory lane had changed into something she didn’t recognize. Me? Begging Kaleb to fill me up with a baby?

  She sat up on the couch and frowned. Deeply.

  That definitely never happened.

  Her babies were over twenty, and her babymaking days were so over.

  Zaria laughed and waved her hand dismissively as she lay back on the couch. She couldn’t wait to see what Dr. Dennison had to say about that—especially since Zaria has expressed in length that she was too old to be making babies and she couldn’t care less if J.Lo and Ms. Halle Berry had done it. It was not on her to-do list. Nada.

  “No,” Zaria said out loud, putting it out into the universe, sitting up again. “No. No. Nooooo.”

  She laughed. “My babies are old enough to have babies of their own. Puhleeze,” she said, lying down again.

  And Zaria knew Kaleb wanted beautiful, brown babies to bounce. She knew that and she wasn’t doing it, so why tie his life up? “And why have that stupid vision, dream, nightmare, whatever,” she said aloud.

  Zaria sat up again and reached for her pocketbook. “’Cause that’s impossible,” she said again, pulling out her old-school daily planner. She opened it to November. Then she flipped to October.

  She was looking for the tiny red X on the days she had her cycle. Closing the book and chuckling again, she clapped her hands and did a little dance in her seat. “Okay. Alrighty, then,” she said, licking her lips as she opened the book. Again.

  And checked November. Again.

  And then October. Again.

  She flung that away from her as if it were a mouse. She sat back on the couch with an eyebrow arched as she thought hard, trying to remember the annoyance of going through a cycle last month.

  But there was nothing to remember. She did not have a cycle last month and none so far this month.

  The baby talk made her think of her cycle, but then she didn’t remember having a dang on cycle and thought the daily planner would help—but it didn’t. Zaria began to breathe deeply, almost hyperventilating, as she felt a muscle or a vein, a spasm or something, tic over her left eye.

  Her eyes shifted left and right and back again. “Condoms. We used condoms. I’m the condom queen. He’s the condom kiiing. We’re condom royalty. We can make condom commercials. We made beautiful condom-filled love. Nice and secure condoms.”

  Except . . .

  The sound of Zaria swallowing over a lump in her throat echoed.

  Except their last time by her front door when they got caught up in the heat of that argument.

  Zaria bit the side of her thumbnail as her eyes shot over to the wall where they did the deed. The condomless deed.

  “No. No. My old ass is just going through menopause or some shit,” Zaria screamed, jumping to her feet. “I’m celebrating, ’cause no more pads. No more cycles. No more PMS. No more Motrin. No more granny panties. Right? Right?”

  She fell back down onto the sofa and dropped her head into her hands.

  CHAPTER 13

  After a hard day’s work, Kaleb drove his Mule over to the site for the dairy store. The Jamisons had already framed up the structure and assured him the roof would be going on that Monday. They were done for the day, but he left his vehicle and walked over to the structure, tilting his head back to take it all in.

  If felt good for his plans to come together. A lot of the townspeople let him know they were ready to frequent the store for the fresh dairy products. And Kaleb hadn’t done one bit of advertising yet. In a small town like Holtsville, much wasn’t needed. News of any and everything new spread fast around these parts. And people didn’t mind asking questions.

  Kaleb gave the structure one last walk-through and then glanced at his watch. He had to get going. His parents were giving Jade and Kaeden a prewedding dinner just for the family. He still needed to get washed and changed.

  An old truck went by on the road, and Kaleb threw his hand up in greeting. The driver, Lee Yates, blew his horn twice briefly. Everyone knew Lee’s truck. It was as small as a Matchbox car but as loud as a tractor trailer.

  He drove the Mule across the flatlands, feeling the cold air biting against his cheeks as the skies turned streaks of orange, lavender, and dark blue as the sun descended. It was a chilly but beautiful evening.

  I wonder what Zar
ia’s doing?

  In the week since he’d seen her, she had filled his thoughts during the day and plagued his dreams at night. Many times he would start to call her and then force himself to close his phone.

  Kaleb would admit only to himself that he feared being rejected and put off by her again. Why would he open himself up to that?

  He undressed as he rushed inside his house and across the living area to his bedroom. He paused at the door and turned, flipping the switch to bask the entire house with light.

  Kaleb’s eyes flittered over the entire house. It felt empty and cold to him. It felt lonesome. It felt like a shell of what it could be. There was no laughter. There was no Zaria.

  He had been on this great search for the love of his life and he had stumbled upon Zaria. At first he saw her as an obstacle or a rest stop before he moved on to better things. But his heart had taken over from his mind and he had fallen for her. Hard.

  The more he wrestled with everything that happened between them, everything that had been said and done, the more confused he became about Zaria’s feelings.

  She never said she loved him. But she never said she didn’t.

  He believed in fate. He believed in destiny. As time went on and his love didn’t fade—even in the face of his anger toward her—he believed that Zaria Ali was the one God meant just for him. Something in him knew she loved him. He knew it.

  They could get past the age difference, her issues with her divorce . . . even whether they would have kids, but he didn’t think he could have a full life without her laughter, her touch, her sex, and her all with him, by his side, having his back while he had hers.

  Giving his house one last look, he rushed into the bathroom for a shower. Afterward, he quickly changed into a cable-knit sweater and jeans, but instead of heading in the direction of his parents’ ranch, he sped toward Summerville. As soon as he turned into Zaria’s yard and parked next to her little VW Bug, he raced up the stairs and knocked on the door.

  He had to believe that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

  And if he fell on his face, if he got turned away, at least he would know that he fought one last time for his heart.

  The door opened but one of the twins stood there.

  He looked past her inside the house but the couch was empty. “Hey . . .”

  “Meena,” she supplied as she leaned against the door and looked up at him.

  “Meena. Right. Is your mom home?” he asked, easing his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

  She scrunched up her face. “I thought you two broke up?”

  Kaleb swallowed back his irritation. Another of their obstacles on the road to happily-ever-after were her twins. Telling her to mind her own damn business wasn’t a step in the right direction.

  “We did,” he said, nodding. “So is she here?”

  “I thought you lived in Holtsville?” she asked.

  Kaleb did a five count and flexed his shoulders. “Yes, yes, I do.”

  She shook her head pitifully. “That’s a long ride without calling first,” she said.

  “Because she’s not home?” he offered, with just one last smidgen of his patience.

  “You really should have, like, flowers and candy, you know,” she said. “I’m just saying.”

  Kaleb hung his head briefly and chuckled to relieve his irritation. “Yes, your mother loves lilies and I should have sent her some.”

  “And the candy?” she added, chastising him.

  “Your mother doesn’t like sweets,” he said. Meena nodded and applauded. “Good answer.” Kaleb looked down at her and saw the twinkle in her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

  “Pretty much,” she agreed.

  “And are we playing twenty questions for me to win an answer to my question?” he asked.

  “Oh, you got jokes,” she said.

  No, what I have is a switch, he thought.

  The cell phone in her hand rang and she looked down at it. “Ooh, got to take this call,” she said, stepping back to close the door.

  Kaleb casually stuck his foot out.

  She frowned as she looked down at it and then up at him. “Yes?” she said, sounding annoyed.

  “Your mother?”

  “She and my sister went somewhere,” Meena said with a shrug.

  “You’ll let her know I stopped by, okay? A’ight. See you later . . . Meena.” Kaleb turned and crossed the porch.

  “Yup.”

  He was barely down the stairs before the door closed firmly. In his pickup truck, he pulled his cell phone from the middle console and dialed Zaria’s cell phone. It went straight to voice mail. He didn’t bother to leave a message. What he had to say was best said face-to-face.

  Zaria sat up on the couch and eyed her daughter. “Is he gone?” she asked, holding her powered down cell phone in her hand.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Meena said, coming over to stand behind the couch and look down at her mom. “You really should talk to your baby daddy.”

  Zaria cut her eyes at her daughter. “I don’t know if I’m pregnant,” she said.

  “Um, Neema and I found like ten pregnancy kits in the trash when we got here this morning,” Meena said. “Sorry to tell you, but you’re pregnant.”

  “I need confirmation with blood work,” Zaria said, releasing yet another heavy sigh—possibly her millionth over the last week. “I just wish I could have gotten an appointment sooner.”

  The front door opened and Neema walked in carrying a bag from Walmart. Zaria frowned. “Neema, I only asked for a heating pad for my back. What is all that you have there?”

  “I strolled over to the baby section . . .”

  Zaria sighed.

  Meena jumped up and down excitedly. “Ooooh, what did you get?”

  Neema whipped out a teddy bear.

  Meena frowned. “Bo-ring.”

  Neema arched a brow and looked dead at her twin as she pushed its round belly. Soon the replicated sounds of a mother’s womb filled the air.

  Meena gave her a thumbs-up. “Awesome.” Neema dug into the bag and pulled out another bear. “In case she’s having twins!”

  “Double awesome!”

  The idea of that made Zaria want to faint. “Can I have the heating pad?” Zaria asked, her voice barely heard among the rustling of plastic bags.

  “Look what else I have,” Neema said, pulling out a bib that read SURPRISE!!!

  Zaria eyed them both with a mama stare that used to work. “That is not funny,” she said, standing up to grab the bag and dig out the box with the heating pad. She stepped over Meena and Neema huddled on the floor going through the packages like it was Christmas.

  Hell, like it was good news.

  Zaria headed for her bedroom and tore open the box to lay the pad on the bed before she plugged it in and then lay flat on it.

  She had barely got comfortable before they burst into the room. Neema unplugged the cord and Meena unceremoniously rolled her off of the pad to snatch it from under her. “Heating pads are only safe on your arms and legs. It could harm the baby’s development,” she explained, holding up her iPad.

  “You looked that up just that quick?” Zaria asked.

  “Technology, Mom. Technology.”

  Zaria sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard. “Why are you two acting like you know I’m pregnant and like you know I’m having it?” she asked.

  They frowned, looked at each other, and frowned deeper, before turning to look at her. “What do you mean?” they asked in unison.

  “Girls, I am forty-two years old,” she stressed.

  “This is not wonderful news for me. I raised my babies, and now here you both are working my nerves about something that either isn’t or won’t be.”

  “But Halle Berry—”

  Zaria closed her eyes and held up both her hands. “I don’t want to hear another word about another over-forty celebrity who had a baby,” she said, her voice tight.

  “
Sorry,” Neema said.

  The sound of her lisp erased the anger from Zaria. “No, it’s okay. Y’all just trying to make me feel better and I love y’all for it. Okay?”

  They nodded, their mood now decidedly somber.

  Zaria tilted her head back against the wall as they quietly left her alone.

  She hated that one of their surprise visits home had allowed them to catch the pregnancy kits in the trash before she could get rid of them. She’d much rather go through all of the emotions alone.

  Zaria shifted down to lie on the bed on her side.

  Kaleb.

  She smiled sadly when she thought of him. All of her initial excitement about him coming to see her disappeared when she thought she might be carrying his child. The child that he wanted so badly. The child that wasn’t part of her life plan.

  She couldn’t tell him the truth. Not yet. She’d had a week to sit on it and come to grips with it and she still hadn’t. All Zaria could hope for was some hormonal imbalance that gave her all of those positives on the pregnancy tests.

  Lying flat on her stomach, she slipped her hands under the bulky sweatshirt she wore to press against her flattened abdomen. Okay. Truth.

  Zaria knew it. She knew that Kaleb’s child was in her womb. Her achy joints weren’t from arthritis. Her missing cycles weren’t stress. Her tender breasts weren’t irritation by the lace of her bras.

  She was pregnant.

  “You sure snuck up on me,” she said softly.

  Zaria pulled her shirt back down and rolled over onto her side again. She reached out to dim the lights and clutched her pillows. She felt the picture she kept inside the case and pulled it out to look down at Kaleb’s handsome and smiling face.

  In a perfect world, she thought, closing her eyes as tears raced down her face.

  Kaleb took a sip of his vodka and cranberry juice, smiling into his glass as he watched Kaeden and Jade on the makeshift dance floor in the center of his parents’ sizeable two-car garage. Kaeden was giving her the infamous Strong man two-step and Jade danced around him like a firefly.