“Yeah, cuzzo, where you at?” Monty asked as a sleepy Murda answered the phone. “I need you to meet me downstairs. We might have a problem,” he informed Murda.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Hello,” a hoarse tone answered the phone.
“Did I wake you?” Heaven asked. It was 9:00 a.m., and she wondered if it was too early to be dialing the number.
“Nah, ma, what’s good?” Although he was seconds ago fast asleep, he was now wide awake. He recognized the voice instantly.
“I was just being a woman of my word,” Heaven replied.
“That what’s up. I’m glad you did.”
“You sure I didn’t wake you up?” Heaven asked hearing a lot of movement on Chill’s end of the phone.
“It’s cool,” he laughed, knowing he had been busted. “I was supposed to be up anyway,” he admitted.
“Since you put it that way,” she smiled.
“Can you give me a minute?”
“You wanna just call me back?” she replied, figuring he wanted to groom himself.
“Ten minutes,” he said. “Or less.”
“Take your time.”
Less than ten minutes later, Heaven’s BlackBerry rang.
“So where were we?” were the words she was met with when she answered.
“You were counting sheep until I woke you up.”
The two of them shared a laugh.
“You got that,” Chill chuckled. “How long you been up?”
“Since around seven,” she lied. She didn’t want to let him know that she hadn’t really been able to sleep at all and hadn’t had a good night’s rest in months.
“I see you’re an early bird, huh?”
“You know what they say, the early bird gets the worm,” she quoted.
“And so does the night owl,” Chill added to the quote.
“I know that’s right.”
Even in the morning caught off guard, he was still smooth and sharp with his thoughts, Heaven thought to herself, and as before when they’d officially met at the club, she was enjoying his conversation.
“So, where you headed this time of morning?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t sounded as if he was pressing.
“I’m actually on my way to this little diner out in Franklin on Hamilton Street to have some breakfast.”
“I know the one you’re talking about. The food there is decent. I ate there a few times.”
“Would you like to join me?” Heaven boldly asked. When she first dialed the number, it was her initial intent to invite Chill to breakfast. She was not really a phone person, rather the face-to-face type. She liked to peer into the eyes of an individual when she conversed with them. It was a trait she had inherited from her father. “The eyes never lie” he used to say to her.
“That sounds doable,” Chill replied. “I’m not too far from there, so gimme a few, and I’ll meet you there.”
“See you then,” were Heaven’s ending words.
Thirty minutes later, the two were sitting across from each other eating breakfast and enjoying each other’s conversation. When Chill had pulled up, Heaven recognized the silver convertible 645i BMW. It was the same one she had given her parking space to at the mall.
When he stepped inside the diner and looked around in search of her, she couldn’t help but remember and admire how well groomed he was at the 40/40 and just as equally standing at the entrance of the establishment. He could easily be mistaken for an actor, she thought. The hug they exchanged once he saw her hand up in the air and made his way over to her nearly made Heaven melt in his embrace. He wore the same alluring fragrance that had intoxicated her that evening at the Atlantic City nightclub, and the bear hug he gave her made Heaven feel as if she was smothered in it. She knew he was a street dude, and he knew a little history of her own street credibility.
The two of them indulged in general conversation outside of their current lifestyles. Heaven shared her childhood up until the time her parents had been killed. Chill shared the cause of the up-and-down relationship he had with his father, who had worked at the Newark Airport for the last thirty years and never missed a chance to tell Chill that he needed to get a job. He also spoke of the loving relationship he had with his mother prior to losing her three years ago to cancer. During intense conversion, they found they had more in common than they knew, like them both being their parents’ only child. They exchanged views on what they thought and felt it to be like. They also both had graduated high school, Heaven in New Brunswick, Chill in Piscataway after being banned from New Brunswick schools due to his behavior. Neither had children themselves, and both were doing OK financially.
Morning turned into afternoon as their conversation caused time to escape them. It was a few minutes past noon by the time Heaven refused Chill the opportunity to pay the bill, and they made their way to their respective vehicles.
“I appreciate the breakfast,” Chill thanked.
“My pleasure.”
“And the conversation,” he added.
“Another pleasure.”
“The next one’s on me. I think I just might let you taste some of my famous cooking.”
His comment caused Heaven to burst out into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” He knew why she laughed. That was always the reaction whenever he met a woman, and he made mention of his cooking skills.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh like that,” she apologized through chuckles.
“Yes, you did. It’s cool, though. I guess I’ll just have to show you.”
“No offense but I’m not the TV dinner or Oodles of Noodles-type of sista,” she joked.
“Damn!” he joined. “I guess I have to figure something else out to make, then.”
“Okay, Chef Homeboy R-D. I see you’re really serious. Just say when and where and I’m there,” Heaven said sincerely.
“Tomorrow night. My place. I’ll call you with the details.”
“You have a deal.”
“Anything special you like?” he asked.
“No, surprise me.”
“Will do,” he smiled.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
As she crossed the threshold of his living quarters, the aroma of something delicious smelling awakened her taste buds and caused Heaven’s mouth to instantly water. Whiffs of a flavor-scented meal greeted her outside as she strolled up the cobblestone walk that led up to the two-story brick townhome with the only black door. She had no idea the attractive smell was complimentary of Chill’s cooking but entering his home confirmed it. When he had first bragged about being able to put it down in the kitchen, Heaven concluded that he was merely trying to impress her, all the while thinking his experience did not exceed the microwave. How wrong she was she realized, knowing the herbs and spices she took in were beyond frozen dinners. She smiled at the thought. Chill caught it. He knew he had scored points with his master chef skills. During their conversation outside the diner the day before, he was sure she hadn’t believed him when he expressed how well he knew his way around the kitchen. Her joke about Oodles of Noodles and TV dinners didn’t count as cooking only added to how he had actually chosen to prepare his favorite meal for her.
“Let me take this,” his raspy tone flowed with the smooth sound of the music, which filled the air, as Chill helped Heaven to relieve herself of the cropped chocolate-brown leather jacket. The color of her jacket complemented her skin tone, he thought. Heaven was so taken with the fragrances of the meal Chill had prepared that she just noticed the tunes of Maxwell’s “Sumthin’ Sumthin’” at a medium tempo surrounding the spacious one-bedroom. She took in the apartment for the first time as Chill opened the living room closet and hung her coat. For the second time within minutes, she was impressed. This is truly a bachelor’s pad, she thought. Heaven also noticed that everything seemed to be neatly in place, from the CDs to DVDs. But what stood out the most were the expensive-looking panther-black leather living room set and the sixty-inch Pa
nasonic that sat surrounded by an elaborate sound system.
On top of the flat-screen was a large framed picture that Heaven had a hard time making out, but gathering from the variety of artwork that was scattered throughout the apartment, she assumed Chill had a love or a passion for African art.
“Have a seat, I’m almost done. It’s marinating right now,” he offered, flashing her one of the sexiest smiles she’d ever seen in her life. His comment caused her to crack a slight chuckle.
She saw that he wore only socks as he walked around the house and realized it was due to the beige plush carpet the floor possessed.
“Do you want me to take off my shoes?” she asked.
“It’s up to you. If you want to. It’s not a requirement, though,” he shrugged.
“I don’t want to dirty your carpet,” she admitted.
“Nah, you good,” he grinned. “It’s already dirty. It needs to be cleaned. They’re coming to shampoo it this weekend anyway,” he added.
“Oh, excuse me,” she replied in a mock tone, but actually was impressed. Chill continued to impress her without even meaning to.
“You’re funny,” he said before disappearing in the kitchen. Heaven sat on the large sofa and nearly melted into the leather. She appreciated a man with taste, and Chill was full of it. Now directly in front of the enormous television she couldn’t help but notice the video games he had stacked up on both sides. One pile obviously was for the Nintendo Wii to the right, and the others were for the PS3 to the left. She wondered if he brought his crew here to chill out and play video games. With that thought, Heaven started to think for just an instant that Chill was too good to be true. It never dawned on her that as fine as he was, and apparently well off and single, that he may have had some type of drama surrounding him, particularly ghetto groupie drama. Her thoughts were immediately broken by the base of his voice.
“Would you like something to drink?” he said popping his head around the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“What do you have?”
He smiled. “I have Rémy, Grey Goose, Corona, Heineken, Pepsi, ginger ale, cranberry, and orange. Oh, and bottled water, of course,” he ran down.
If he had added her favorite red wine by Taylor Fladgate to the list, she would have passed out in disbelief. Heaven loved a good bottle of red wine with her meals or when she was just relaxing, but she knew he couldn’t be that good.
“Ginger ale is fine.”
“Ginger ale and what?”
“That’s it,” she grinned.
“Come on, you have to have something stronger than that,” he retorted. “I mean, I’m not trying to get you drunk or anything.”
“Are you sure?” she teased.
“I don’t have to do that.” His face became serious in a sincere manner she noticed.
“I’m sure you don’t,” she passively stated. “You can mix the ginger ale with Rémy, but not too strong; more soda than alcohol.”
Now it was Chill’s turn to be impressed. He was a cognac drinker himself, but most women preferred white liquor to dark. It seemed they felt drinks like Hennessy and Rémy Martin were too strong for them to handle. Chill thought it took a certain type of woman to withstand the potency of the dark liquid.
“Coming right up,” he said.
Within seconds, Chill returned with two glasses.
“Thank you,” Heaven smiled accepting the drink.
“You’re welcome,” Chill nodded and sat next to her. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“Smells good,” she complimented. “What is it?”
“You said to surprise you,” he reminded with a smile.
“I’m surprised that it smells so delicious,” she teased.
“You still got jokes, huh?”
“No,” she laughed. “It really does, though.” She took a sip of her drink and set it back down on the footstool.
“Hold that thought,” Chill chimed. She watched as he took a swig of the pure mahogany cognac before making his way back into the kitchen.
The sweet melody of India Arie’s voice permeated the living room.
“Do you mind if I turn this up?” Heaven called out to the kitchen. The song was one of her favorites whenever she relaxed.
“Be my guest,” the voice echoed from the kitchen area. Heaven increased the volume, then grabbed her drink and sat back down. She closed her eyes after taking another sip and enjoyed the smoothness of the lyrics. Chill had made her drink just right, she thought as the cognac flowed smoothly through her insides. She hummed along as India Arie’s “The Truth” blared through the surround sound speakers, which hung from the wall over the couch where she sat.
She was so caught up in the rapture of the song that she was unaware of Chill watching her. He leaned against the side of the living room wall with arms folded. Now sensing his presence after his fragrance had given him away, Heaven’s eyes opened.
“I’m sorry,” she smiled apologetically.
“Nah, you’re good. I’m the one who should be apologizing for disturbing you,” he coolly stated. “You looked so at peace.”
And that’s how she felt. From the time she had been released from the hospital, she had been on a warpath that landed her down a dead end. All the work she and her crew had put in was for nothing, and it had her stressed. She was no closer to those who had violated her and her partner since the day the incident had occurred, which credited to her continuous sleepless nights. Now, here it was, she had easily fallen into relaxation mode in a complete stranger’s home. At that moment, nothing else seemed to exist, and she wanted to savor the feeling.
“Dinner’s ready,” Chill offered. “Just relax.” He stopped her seeing that she was about to get up. “I’m going to bring it to you.” He disappeared and returned with a wooden foldup TV tray and set it in front of her. Like a waiter, he left and came back with a placemat, napkin, and silverware. Impressed would have been an understatement when describing Heaven’s thoughts. After setting up the same for himself, Chill then returned with two plates and set one in front of Heaven, and the other on the tray in front of where he intended to sit.
“Enjoy,” he grinned.
Heaven’s eyes told it all. “Thank you,” she replied admiring the delicious-looking meal.
The smell of the seasoned pink salmon served with yellow rice, peas, and corn tickled her nostrils, but the taste of the tender fish ignited her taste buds. Chill sat and proudly watched as she tasted what was his favorite dish to prepare.
“Mmm. This is sooo good,” she cooed as she chased the seasoned rice with a small portion of the mixture of sweet and spicy corn.
“Glad you like,” a modest Chill smiled.
For the next twenty minutes or so, Chill and Heaven enjoyed their meals through small talk.
The first to finish, Heaven leaned back onto the leather sofa.
A slight case of itus swept over her from the tasty meal that had filled her, but she fought it. Chill noticed and smiled. Job well done, he thought to himself as he removed the plates and table. He then returned and sat next to Heaven, only this time closer than before.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fall asleep,” she assured him seeing Chill staring at her.
“That’s not what I was thinking,” he corrected. Something in his tone sounded soothing to her.
“Well, what were you thinking, then?”
“What I’ve been thinking since the first time I saw you.”
Heaven’s eyebrows became one. “And what’s that?” she asked puzzled.
“How beautiful your lips were,” he admitted smoothly.
His straight face when he spoke aroused Heaven. She did her best to hide her reaction.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“And?” she replied, not knowing what else to say.
“And now I think I want to taste them.”
Chill leaned in to kiss her. The scent of the African musk oil he wore masked the aroma
of the meal they had not long ago shared as he attempted to press his lips up against hers. Heaven gently placed her hand on his chest, stopping him from coming closer. They stared at each other for just a moment.
“Do You Feel Me” by Anthony Hamilton echoed in the silent space between the two of them. Heaven took a deep breath and released herself, allowing the softness of Chill’s lips to meet hers. As she did, she could hear Anthony asking, “Do you feel me?” She could feel her heartbeat speed up and her special place start to dance.
Chill wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer. The aggressiveness of his embrace caused her eyes to open to find Chill looking her directly in the face. They stared at each other again for just another moment, and then Chill kissed her deeply. Heaven couldn’t believe what was happening to her. Chill was kissing her like she had never been kissed before. He began to glide his hand around her breast, while his tongue continued to part her lips and dominate their kiss. It had been a long time since a man had touched her in the manner Chill was, and she welcomed it. The foreign feeling brought her entire body to life, igniting her insides and moistening her inner thighs. She inhaled at the touch of his hand caressing her nipple through the fabric. Chill gently massaged her mound as his mouth traveled from her lips to her neck. With his free hand, he began to unbutton her blouse, and then smoothly removed the shirt. His tongue trailed down to her exposed shoulder. Chill performed circular motions with his tongue on her collar while unfastening the laced bra. Free of the garment, Chill’s hand had full access to the bareness of Heaven’s breast. He toyed with the now-erect nipple, then replaced his fingers with his tongue.
Heaven threw her head back and closed her eyes, placing her hands on top of Chill’s head as he assaulted her nipple. His free hand slid its way between her Seven Jeans and began to massage the warm area while switching his assaults on to her other nipple. Heaven’s breathing increased from the pressure Chill was applying between her legs. She could feel her pussy getting wetter each time he caused the material to press against or brush across her clit. He then slithered his mouth down to her midsection and began to unbuckle her belt and jeans. Heaven opened her eyes and peered down at Chill who was staring up at her. His piercing brown eyes gazed up at her with lazy lids. Not knowing whether it was the room’s temperature or the way his mesmerizing eyes had captured her, Heaven felt her body heating up. Light perspiration trickled down the middle of her smooth vanilla neck and glided down between her breasts, then disappeared under Chill’s chin. Chill was met with the sweet smell of freshness when he exposed the top part of Heaven’s matching lacy panties. She bit down on her bottom lip as he gently guided her out of her jeans and thong. As she slowly squirmed out of her clothing in attempts to aid him, her back instinctively arched itself from the anticipation of what was to come.
Heaven and Earth Page 17