The Rhythm of Blues

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The Rhythm of Blues Page 33

by Love Belvin


  “I wanna eat your pussy,” I heard rumbled over my head and vibrated under my chest.

  My eyes popped open, pacing left to right. At first, I didn’t know what to say. I’d gone down on Raj twice already—couldn’t wait for another go at it. I’d been in such a lust fest with him, I didn’t realize he’d refrained from returning the favor. I just guessed we hadn’t gotten there yet. I wasn’t complaining. It had been a good time.

  “I won’t object.”

  “I know.”

  I didn’t get it. “Then why don’t you?”

  There was a pregnant pause. “I don’t know how.”

  He didn’t know how to go down on a woman? Can’t be! Raj may have been weird as hell sexually, but dude could fuck. What man would go to the lengths of piercing his dick—know how to work it, too—but not know how to eat pussy? That didn’t make sense to me.

  Neither does Ragee…

  My head lifted, but before I could speak, he asked, “What type of birth control you on?”

  I swallowed hard and my brows pinched at the sporadic direction of this conversation.

  My mind was spinning when I murmured, “Depo-Provera.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The shot.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that a problem?” I yawned again, soothed by the rumbling of his chest each time he uttered a word.

  “Oh, nah.” He delayed before softly explaining, “Just didn’t know.”

  His hands continued to roll down my back.

  Heav-fuck-an…

  His touch wasn’t suggestive, just intimate and relaxing.

  “There’re lots of things you don’t know about me, let you tell it.”

  His hands paused. “That’s true.”

  “It’s true of you, too.”

  After a beat, his hands resumed, casting me into a peaceful sleep.

  You’re Alpha and Omega, God…the beginning and the end, Father.

  You’re majestic…sovereign, God.

  You’re a healer, Lord…a redeemer.

  You delivered me from the bowels of the enemy, God.

  You put a song in my soul no man could compose.

  You put a fear in my heart no beast could match.

  You’re Jehovah Jireh…you’ve provided over and over.

  You’re faithful, God…never leaving my side.

  You’re omniscient, Father…your wisdom is infinite!

  Holy, God. You’re holy, Father—

  A knock at the door had my head lifting from the sofa. I looked around the main area of the suite from the living room, hoping it wasn’t loud and I hadn’t missed anything. Then I rose from my knees and headed for it. My food had arrived. Breakfast. After signing for it, I rolled the cart farther into the living room then strolled into the kitchen to wash my hands.

  It was just after six in the morning, and I was restless. I may have slept two hours all night. So much was running through my mind. I was used to work stressing me: investment deals being risky, politics of the movie industry, the drips and drabs of the record label. I’d dealt with it all. There were good days, and bad days.

  A rhythm of blues, as she says…

  But this was something new. Wynter was becoming a member of my world more and more every day now. And nah, I wasn’t romanticizing the idea of having a play wife. But I vibed with her…a little more than I was comfortable with. So much I wanted to know more about Wynter. The dangerous thing about that was just as I wasn’t exactly an open book, neither was she. And I couldn’t expect more from her than I was willing to give.

  There was something in my spirit bothered by this whole setup. Before it was because I knew it wasn’t right. I wasn’t the type of man to engage in propaganda to further my career. As a man of God, I knew full well my steps were ordered. But I did it. I went along with it. At first, I resented Mike and Wynter for being involved. Mike was still on my hit list.

  But Wynter…

  It confused and stressed me. Internally, my flesh had been winning over my spirit with anger, my language, my ugly actions…everything.

  I sat down on the sofa and removed the cover from the food. It looked and smelled good, but I knew it wasn’t made to my specifications like Earl’s would have been. All that brain work had me needing to fall to my knees and pray and got me hungry. My eyes burned from exhaustion and stomach rumbled from emptiness. I felt part complete, half excited about being away.

  And with her….

  I sat and ate my breakfast quietly, feeling my eyes get heavier and heavier. I had a long day ahead. One that would start in a few hours. If I could grab just two hours, I would be fine. When I was done, I packed the cart with my scraps and separated it all from Wynter’s food. Hopefully she liked what I ordered for her. I lay down and closed my eyes, meditating on a worship song developing in my spirit.

  I was just about to drift when I heard pitter patter from the bedroom. I tilted my head backward on the arm of the sofa. Wynter appeared at the door wearing one of my white tanks, only. Her phone was clutched in her hand and her mouth hung open.

  Without speaking she walked into the living room barefoot. She stopped at the food cart and lifted both metal salver covers.

  Her head swung to face me. “You ordered without me?”

  “I got what I thought you’d like.”

  “It could have been cold by the time I got to it.”

  I took a deep breath. God, I’m tired… “You jumped outta bed like you heard a bomb go off.” I closed my eyes again.

  “Actually, I thought you left me after…” When I thought she was hesitating, I felt her weight on me. Wynter stretched out on top of me. “…all that nasty stuff last night.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re so damn weird.”

  “Sticks and stones…”

  “And now I wanna feel your bone.” My eyes opened to her lazy smirk. “Was I snoring? Is that why you came out here?”

  “Nah. Couldn’t sleep. Decided to pray.”

  “In the spirit, like Pastor McKinnon? She speaks a different language when she gets really into it. I thought that was only a myth.”

  I thought for a moment. “Yeah. Like that.”

  “Is that what you always do when you can’t sleep?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Oh.”

  Her nails scraped to reach my chin through my beard. I closed my eyes, not exactly relaxed with her this close. I liked it, though.

  “I have to call Mike today.” Her chin lay on her hand that covered my chest, so her words were muttered. I wanted to say fuck him, but my spirit would have been rebuked. I’d been foul at the mouth for a while lately. “He called twice last night. Not sure about what.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “I like being away from the house for a while, but it’s colder here than it is in Jersey. I wish I could really get away. Some place in the tropics…to make me forget about the coldness of the winter,” she whispered, I was sure just shooting off at the mouth.

  “But you like winter,” I teased, fighting a yawn. “Your favorite color goes with the theme. Remember?”

  “Yeah, but silver like silver bells,” she shifted her weight on top of me. I sucked in a breath when I felt her hand reach for my cock. It started to swell right away.

  Lifting from me a little, she shifted my boxers down enough for my cock to lay bare on my stomach. We watched together then her eyes rolled up to mine.

  “You never said why you got this.”

  “Because it’s complicated.”

  Her thighs widened around me, the warmth of her pussy lay over my erection.

  “Was it to wow women like you are me, now?” She rocked over me, eyes stapled to mine, expecting an answer.

  I shook my head. “Nah.”

  “No?” She rolled her hips, moving her pussy up and down.

  “Nah. It was personal.”

  She studied my face while rubbing against me. I could now feel her
wetness all around my cock. When she slid all the way up to my head, the pressure from the bar pushing up had me thickening even more. My eyes closed as her breathing got heavier and heavier. Wynter was feeling the effects of the bar, too.

  “You mean something that feels this good wasn’t meant for your lovers?”

  I pushed out a dry laugh. “You don’t mar your dick and spend months healing from it to please chicks. At least I didn’t.” When she rolled up again, the top of her lips rubbing weightily on my head, had me biting my lip.

  Wynter shook her head. “Don’t do that. I’ll come too soon.”

  Her lips met mine and she kissed me like she’d done it a million times first thing in the morning before brushing her teeth. Her breath was stale, but her mouth felt so good. This must be what domestication feels like. Wanting each other so bad, you skip the prep. Whatever it was, I was with it.

  Wynter left my mouth and sat up. She lifted the tank, holding it just underneath her tits as she rode my cock without me being inside of her. Her eyes went below to my dick that disappeared every time she moved up. Her body rocked when her fat clit rubbed against the barbell. Wynter’s eyes rolled back as her lips parted.

  I almost busted when her eyes opened again, tight and strained.

  “You like me, you say,” she moaned. “It’s not something I hear every day.”

  She moved fluidly, up and down my raging dick.

  “Feelings can be so complicated before you,” she swallowed back a breath, her thighs tightening around me. “…add in what we grow between us.” Her eyes fell to where we met and hips picked up speed, but at a gradual pace.

  I didn’t speak, now understanding she was sharing one of her poems.

  “I’m Wynter, and nothing grows in the cold, but this lust…”

  She panted, her shoulders caving while she whipped her hips back and forth. “This thing growing between us can be so beautiful if we don’t complicate it with expectations of things neither of us can deliver.”

  Her thighs tightened even more and I could tell she was about to explode. And I could feel her jelly flesh softening around me, could see her wetness on my belly.

  “I just want to make you laugh, smile, and shi—” Her body vibrated, chest pumping up and down while her spine seemed to circle as she fought to hold on. “…shiver,” she moaned. “Oh!” she cried.

  Her expression when coming stole my breath. Roughly, I reached up and grabbed her at the back of the head, bringing her mouth to mine. I kissed her hard and fast as she danced on my dick. My tongue went slack when I skeeted hard between our bodies smacking against each other.

  God, she’s dangerous…

  My body jolted and I shot up into a sitting position, heart galloping. I scanned the room, not recognizing where I was right away.

  How did I get back in the bed?

  I was out of breath when I turned to the nightstand for my phone.

  Eleven eighteen!

  I turned to find Raj lying next to me. His arm crossed over his face.

  “It’s after eleven and my ringer is off. Tina probably tried calling me for my hair and makeup.” I was panicking.

  I’d even missed another call from Mike.

  “You’re good,” he breathed, turning to his side. The boulder that was his arm flexed as he curled it to push his hand underneath the pillow. “I hit her up already.”

  My face tightened. I was confused.

  “What did you say?”

  Raj cracked an eye. “Told her we’re skipping the luncheon. Got her on something else.”

  “Oh.” My shoulders dropped.

  “You look disappointed.”

  My brows rose. “I’m not. Just didn’t want to screw this up.”

  “You’re not. You’re good.” He shuffled again, turning over. “I’m going back to sleep. You need to eat. Orgasms ain’t nourishment for everything.”

  My eyes popped open and nipples tingled.

  “Uhn-hnnn…” he hummed, being cocky. I was sure of it.

  “What?” I asked, chewing on a carrot stick.

  “Somebody sure loves hummus.” I sipped from a bottle of water.

  “I do. It reminds me of something unhealthy.” I dipped the remaining carrot again into the hummus. “It makes me forget I’m eating right.”

  He chuckled quietly. My laughter was just as subtle as I grabbed a cherry tomato from the veggie platter. I was eating again today. Earlier, I managed a few swallows of the old fashioned oatmeal Raj ordered for me at the crack of dawn. It was cold and settled by the time I got to it, but three or so spoon servings was enough to quiet my hunger pangs. Then I grew restless, feeling so off from the spotty rest spells last night. Not to mention, I was totally off my schedule. It was a quick decision to throw on my workout gear and sneakers I’d packed and head downstairs for the hotel gym.

  I may have been in there for thirty minutes before Raj joined me. I left a note in the suite before leaving out. He came dressed for his own work out. Raj paid thirty minutes to the treadmill then moved on to weights. He only interfered with my agenda when my posture was off, and came over to correct and even demonstrate. Other than that, we were in our own worlds. I was done first, and left him to come back up to the suite to shower. He wasn’t far behind when he asked that I order lunch on his way into the shower.

  We’d just finished up our food when I asked, “So, just how much will my ovaries freeze out there tomorrow?”

  “Where?” he asked and at the same time, his phone chirped.

  Raj lifted it from the table to check.

  “At the game,” I continued with my question.

  “I don’t expect them to freeze at all.”

  “It’s cold as hell out here,” I scoffed. “The bleachers’ll be twenty times as cold as the air.”

  Raj’s eyes shrank as he laughed in my face. He laughed so hard, his head tilted back and I saw his Adam’s apple bob beneath his full beard. When he was able to look at me again, I guessed he noticed I didn’t join in the humor.

  “You serious?” his deep chords trickled.

  I gulped down my own water. “Yeah.” My expression was unsmiling.

  Raj’s face relaxed, but amusement gleamed in his eyes. He shook his head. “We won’t be watching the game from outside.”

  “Oh. We’re going to another Super Bowl party to watch the actual game?”

  The side of his mouth curled up as he fought his humor. “We’ll be in a couple of suites, Wynter.”

  “Suites?”

  “At the stadium. The U.S. Bank Stadium has suites for private, heated, enclosed seating.” He swallowed back the rest of his water and as he screwed the cap on, he murmured, “My bad. I don’t know when you’re joking or serious.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “Why would I expose my lack of culture for the sake of a joke? I know nothing about football or fancy suite seats. I’m a poor citizen.”

  He stared at me for seconds long. I pretended to not care as I finished the last of my platter.

  “You never answered my question,” he rasped across from me.

  “What was that?”

  “About your last boyfriend and how he dealt with you going from zero to one hun’ned.” His head dipped. “Or do you still have a boyfriend?”

  It was my turn to laugh. Hard.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked with a creased forehead.

  “The fact that you didn’t exactly ask me that question. And that you’re just asking if I had a man after all that copulating we’ve been participating in. Then on top of all of that, you never answered my question!”

  “What question?”

  All humor left me and my eyes went to my empty tray when I asked, “Who took that picture of you that Basso painted?” Slowly, my regard raked back up to him.

  Raj snorted, chortling silently as his eyes rolled adorably toward the ceiling. “Funny,” he whispered, more to himself.

  I leaned toward the table, eyes squinting. My chin rested on the back
of my hand. “You see how communication works? It’s a mutual activity. You—for some unknown reason—are compelled to get to know me better. You need to take a number and get to the back of the line. I’ve been at this for months with no help from you.” It was a partial lie.

  I honestly had no desire to get to know Raj in the beginning. He was cold, rich, and bitter. It wasn’t until he forced me to share his bed that I cared to even notice his eye color.

  “A’ight.” He took a deep breath, sitting up in his chair. “I’ll go first then you can tell me what I really wanna know.”

  “Which is?”

  “How did you learn how to please a man?”

  “You mean, how I learned how to fuck?” It was a serious, yet surprising question.

  Raj’s head cocked to the side and he scratched his nose. “Your mouth can be…something else.”

  My eyes fell to the table again and I licked my lips, feeling ashamed. Raj was different from the men I was used to being around. All the men in my family had a propensity to profanity. And the men I worked with, my clients all came with vulgarism as their first language. Now, having been around Raj and his grandmother, my conscience grew more sensitive about the words I used.

  His head straightened and he took a deep breath as though giving himself a countdown.

  “Heather.”

  “Huhn?”

  He nodded with pouted lips—lips I wanted to feel all over me one day. “The picture I had sent to Franco. Heather took the picture.”

  “So you really do fuck—” Quickly, I caught myself. “You sleep with her.”

  He shook his head.

  “Exactly how long ago?” I asked.

  Something about her attachment to him didn’t sit well with me.

  “When we were kids.”

  “What kind of kids? College aged kids?”

  Raj’s eyes fell. “Late middle school.”

  Heather’s been fucking that long?

  “Oh,” was all I could manage for a few seconds. “Was she your firs—”

  “I was her first. She was my second.”

  Then why can’t you look at me? The energy in the room had shifted that quickly. His mood darkened. So, I pushed. “So, she took the pic and that was it?”

  I found it hard to believe. Even I was aroused at the sight of his meatiness.

 

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