Wicked Intentions

by Linda Verji

  He was home.

  The feeling of the hard planes of his chest against her back made her feel protected, like if she moved just a bit closer, she’d hear their hearts beat in concert. He placed a series of soft kisses along the nape of her neck and collarbone as he ran his hands over her, as if assuring himself that she was just as okay as he’d last left her.

  She impulsively ground against the knobbed head of his erection that twitched against her ass, teasing him. His long fingers dug into her thigh, telling her that she was playing with fire; so she smiled and did it again.

  “Zain.” Her name was a mantra of craving on his lips as the deep timbre of his voice broke the hush of the darkened room. His kisses whispered against her silken tresses as his hands wandered her exposed flesh. Like a cat, she stretched and soaked in the warmth of his body as his soothing touch claimed her.

  “Zain,” he murmured again. There was a slight tremor in his touch as he turned her to lie on her back. The shadows of the room masked his face but she knew what he looked like – an exact replica of her fantasies. His hands framed the contours of her cheeks, his thumbs hovered her lips as he stared down at her, mesmerized by the slight pout he’d confessed had made him fall in love with her. The pads of his fingers smoothed over the soft plumpness of her lips before he brought his head down and kissed her.

  His mouth was warm against hers as he flirted with her lips. He coaxed her to let him in with light teasing licks and placed a nibble strategically. The sensuous version of hide and seek caused her to sigh into his mouth as she took a deep gulp inhaling the faint trace of mint that still lingered on his breath. He took advantage of the slight opening and dipped his tongue into her moist cavern.

  The mating of their tongues was frenzied, each plunge and foray designed to drive the other over the edge first. Zain shifted restlessly on the bed. She needed to touch him, to feel him but the duvet was a tight band across her upper chest imprisoning her movements. He pushed it to her waist, releasing her from its clutches and revealing her breasts to his gaze.

  The chocolate tips perked with sudden awareness of his eyes on them and the room’s chill breathing over them. Her quest to grab his engorged manhood was thwarted as his hands closed over her wrist and drew it back to his chest. “Too quick,” he muttered.

  Frustrated, she settled for playing with the rest of him. The tendons of his shoulders swelled and tightened as she ran her hands over him. Her fingers would’ve seared if his muscles were any more solid or his skin any hotter.

  He touched her, but the glance of his hand across her breasts, belly, and thighs wasn’t enough to pacify her. She craved a more rigid touch. She wanted to be manhandled, treated like a whore, but she knew her man would never do it – he was a gentleman to the bone. Zain held her breath as his hands hovered her breasts.

  Do it! Do it! Do it! She silently urged. The tingling began when he finally cupped the swollen weight of her breasts.

  “Mine,” Lucky whispered in her ear as his palm fitted itself over her perfectly bared mound. She arched her back, pressing her aching flesh deeper into his hand. His response was to pinch her nipple before soothing it as his head bent to take the aching point into his mouth, his tongue scraping deliciously against it.

  The light hairs on his thigh tickled her as he slung one of her legs over his, widening her for him. Her mouth went dry as his hand settled between her inner thighs. She couldn’t hold back a keening whimper as his fingers grazed her slit.

  He knew just where and how to touch her to make her teeter on the edge of passion. Eleven years of practice had created a master whose explorations only spurred the fluttering in her belly as his fingers stroked her blossoming bud in time to the rhythm of his mouth on her nipple. She moaned his name with every stroke of his thumb, “Lucky...”

  “That’s right baby,” he encouraged. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

  The moist walls of her center stretched, welcoming his invasion as his fingers sank into her. The tangy scent of her arousal surrounded them as he pressed in, retreated, spread her wetness around, and pressed in again.

  His shaft lengthened against her upper thigh, letting her know that beneath the measured ministrations on her body, he wasn’t as calm as he’d led her to believe. His breath hitched as she rubbed her thigh against him. She wouldn’t be stopped this time. She trailed a finger down his body to his erect rod, the crown of him already slick with desire’s moisture. He was hot, hard, and large and seemed to become more of each as she began to fondle him.

  “Harder,” emerged heavily from his parted lips as he tucked his head into the crook of her neck. She matched the firm upward and downward stroke of her hand to the in and out of his fingers inside of her. Unable to bear the pleasurable torture any longer, he shifted his weight over her and slipped between her thighs positioning his tip at her entrance.

  “Tell me you love me, baby,” Lucky teased as he pressed the wide head of himself against her opening but didn’t quite slip in.

  “You tell me you love me,” Zain teased back, grinding her sensitive nub against the weeping crown of his cock.

  “I love you Zain,” he conceded then plunged into her. The heavy length of him pressed into her, stretching her like always. The whimper that rushed from her lips was one of both pain and pleasure. No matter how many times they came together, he always felt too big and too snug. His uneven breaths gushed across her shoulder as he paused midway inside of her to allow her to become accustomed to his length.

  “I love you so much, baby,” his hushed murmur whirled about the room as he remained motionless inside her. Strong fingers smoothed the hair from her face as his firm lips traced her profile with kisses.

  Her body began to relax beneath him. He pressed his lips against hers to swallow her moans as he drove himself deeper inside of her. The stroke was long and drawn out. He pushed and pushed until his large shaft was completely encased in her sheath.

  The dance begun.

  He was slow and thorough. He thrust into her with a calm precision that rivaled the inferno that burned inside, coating his cock with her moisture with each in and out movement.

  “Don’t stop!” She sighed lustily as her fingers dug into his closely shaved hair. He didn’t. He ground himself into her, hitting her spot every time he entered before withdrawing at a leisurely pace and repeating the movement again.

  “Not enough,” he groaned as he changed their position slightly. Bracing her legs over his shoulders and widening her even further, he started to thrust again. It felt like he was hitting her throat with every thrust in.

  Faster! Faster! He sped up into shorter sharper strokes Almost there! Almost there!

  When he touched her clit and she tumbled over the edge. A crashing wave of bliss swept over her and Lucky quickly joined her, spilling his seed inside her.

  He held himself on his elbows above her for a moment taking in deep, gasping breaths. Finally gaining control of his breathing, Lucky collapsed beside her on his back. She turned to her side, slinging an arm across his warm chest as he wrapped his hand around her waist. He pulled her closer to his body until she was practically on top of him before he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “Did you miss me?” he finally asked. They both laughed because the answer was more than obvious. She’d missed him. She’d missed her husband.

  “Did he come home last night?”

  “We saw his car.”

  “Why didn’t you wake us up?”

  “Did he bring something for me?”

  Their children sat at the kitchen island, tucked neatly into their school uniforms as they bounced on the wood and leather high stools around the counter, trying to get information on their father. Nine-year-old Maari Ford had, of course, somehow managed to untuck his shirt, loosen his tie, and lose the band his mother had tamed his dreadlocks into only an hour earlier. He kicked at the island’s wall with his eyes trained on the door.

  Five-year-old Lily had put her picture boo
k down and was looking at Zain, her wide eyes seeming as if they’d pop out of her head at any moment. Her twin, Iris, wasn’t even seated. Instead, she half kneeled, half crouched in her seat as if ready to sprint up the stairs at any moment. Even Runo, their Border Collie, wagged his tail beside Lily’s chair.

  “Mommy, I wanna go see him,” Iris whined, one foot dangling precariously off the stool.

  “Uh-uh.” Zain lifted her up and sat her properly into the seat. “Daddy’s gonna be down in a minute, then you can see him.”

  Iris’ lips began to tremble, “But Mommy…”

  “Eat your cereal.” Unmoved by Iris’ threat of tears, Zain turned back to the eggs scrambling in the skillet on the stove. She’d left Lucky upstairs to sleep off his jetlag. He probably wouldn’t be up by the time it was time to drive the kids to school but telling them that was akin to triggering a fire alarm. She wanted them to at least get something in their stomach before the groaning, tears and gnashing of teeth officially started.

  Without turning from the cooker, she said, “Lily don’t think I didn’t see your slick behind sneaking bacon down to Runo.”

  “Mommy, he’s hungr-”

  Before Lily could finish her sentence, Iris let out a scream so piercing it filled the spacious kitchen and probably the neighbor’s kitchen too. “Daddy!”

  With a wince, Zain turned to face the door. Lucky stood there in grey sweats and a white t-shirt with a big smile on his face. The children hastily clambered from their seats and raced toward him.

  The ensuing commotion was ridiculous, funny, and heartwarming at the same time. The three of them clutched onto Lucky, hanging from any limb they could find free. How Iris managed to get on his back and seize his bald head was a mystery. Runo circled around them, barking and wagging his tail madly as the children all tried to get a word in.

  Even as he tried to keep up with their barrage of questions, Lucky threw Zain a desperate look. She smiled and shook her head before turning back to her breakfast preparations. He was the one who’d been away from his family for almost two weeks, leaving them all starving for his attention. She was not getting involved.

  He finally managed to untangle himself and get the children reseated. Zain felt him behind her before she felt his hands on her waist. She turned in his arms, skillet in her hands, to meet his kiss. It was just a fast peck but it brought back memories of last night and she couldn’t help the small smile that snuck its way on her lips. He smiled back, as if the same memory had crossed his mind and Lucky started to dip his head again…

  “Yuck!”

  “Ew!” both twins squealed as Lily slapped her hands over her eyes.

  “Y’all are nasty.” Maari wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What you trying to teach a young nigga here? Is this what’s hot on the street?”

  “Boy, don’t make me shave your head,” Lucky threatened and pressed his lips against Zain’s before turning to the kids. “Were you all good while I was away?”

  “Well, Maari went to Justin’s house without Mommy’s permission then…” Iris rushed in first because she was a daddy’s girl through and through. Maari inserted the word ‘snitch’ after every five words she said. Zain shook her head as she walked to the French door stainless steel refrigerator. A blast of cold air met her as she opened it to remove a jar of homemade juice. After pouring some into a glass, she placed it in front of Lucky so he could drink and talk while she finished up.

  She wasn’t really listening to them, but she loved hearing their voices flow around her. Zain would’ve laughed four years ago had anyone told her this would be the life she’d be living now; cooking breakfast and preparing three children for school had never part of her life’s plan.

  All that had mattered back then was her career.

  Did she miss her old life? It was hard not to crave the sense of purpose and excitement that came with being Dr. Ford instead of Mommy, hard not to miss waking up daily and knowing something new was going to happen, but she didn’t regret it because it had been the right decision then.

  “Mommy, my bacon is finished.” Lily tagged on Zain’s khaki capris, drawing her from her thoughts. She had her plate in hand in her best Oliver Twist impression. “Can I have some more?”

  Laughing, Zain put the plate on the counter beside her then lifted Lily up in her arms. She grunted slightly under Lily’s weight, “Baby, I told you if you keep giving Runo your-”

  Her words were interrupted by a loud slam of the door. Then she heard that voice that always brought hives up her back and raised her hackles, “Halake, are you home?”

  “Nana!” Iris and Maari ran out of the kitchen to meet her but Lily remained in Zain’s arms. Of the three she was the most intuitive. Even at five she knew when their mother was unhappy and she hadn’t missed the fall of Zain’s smile.

  “Halake, Halake, Halake!” Nadifa Yasin sang as she made her way into the kitchen.

  Lucky caught Zain’s eye roll and shook his head in warning before he shouted out, “Ma, I’m in here!”

  When Nadifa finally made her way into the kitchen she was all smiles. It was obvious where Lucky had inherited his height, even fragility and age hadn’t taken from Nadifa’s lithe form. Her hair was arranged in a curly bob to soften the sharp contours of her face and her deep-set eyes. She wore a long-sleeved maxi dress in a soft shade of grey that fell to her feet and was cinched around the waist with a silver belt.

  “How was Atlanta, my son?” Nadifa asked as she hugged Lucky.

  “It was okay.” Lucky returned her clasp. “We won the game.”

  “That’s good.” Nadifa reached for the glass that was on the counter. She sniffed its contents and wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Is this what she’s feeding you? No wonder my boy is getting thinner.” She clucked disapprovingly as she dropped her bag on the counter then snatched the skillet from Zain’s hands to continue the cooking.

  Zain was tempted to slap her with that skillet. The woman hadn’t even been in her house for five minutes, hadn’t even bothered to greet her, and was already slinging mean shots. Zain wasn’t the kind of woman to just sit and take it so there had been more than a few yelling matches between them. Today, however, she let it go because the children were in the kitchen and it was only a pan of bacon.

  While Nadifa cooked and served Lucky, Zain cleaned the dishes. She was almost done when she glanced at her watch. Frowning slightly, she sidled up to Lucky. “Baby, I gotta get the kids to school.”

  The whining immediately began. “Do we have to go to school?”

  “Can’t we stay with Daddy for just one day?”

  “But it’s cold outside.”

  “You know the house rules,” Zain said as she wiped Maari’s milk moustache – or tried to before he ducked out of her reach. “No missing school.”

  “Don’t force those children to go to school.” Nadifa waved the skillet up in the air like it was a judge’s gavel. “One day at home won’t kill them.”

  Both Zain and Nadifa turned to Lucky. He paused with bacon dangling on his fork, just next to his mouth. His eyes shifted to Nadifa, then to Zain, then back to Nadifa. He licked his lips nervously. “Kids go get ready for school.”

  The ensuing moans and groans couldn’t dull the victory Zain felt. She knew it was petty, but it wasn’t often that she won against Nadifa when it came to Lucky so she was milking it for all it was worth. Though she tried to keep the satisfaction from her face, the small smirk was instinctive. Nadifa didn’t miss it. She kissed her teeth before throwing Lucky a narrow eyed look. Zain was sure that the moment they left Lucky would get an earful.

  The kids trooped out of the kitchen with lackluster goodbyes to Lucky and Nadifa. Once Zain got them into their jackets, mittens, and scarves, she hurried them outside, through the snow, to the car and strapped them in. Just as she was about to get into the car herself, she remembered that she’d forgotten their lunches on the kitchen counter.

  She left them in the car while she ran back into t
he house. She was just about to get into the kitchen when she heard Nadifa say, “What did the doctor you went to see say?”

  Lucky’s words were muffled. “…nothing wrong… just wait...happen in time…”

  There was a pause before Nadifa asked, “Obviously there’s something wrong with her. When are you going to get a real woman who can give you your own kids instead of hanging on to your sister’s?”

  “Ma, that’s my wife.”

  “Boy, don’t Ma me.” Even without seeing her, Zain could imagine Nadifa’s lips curling in derision as she said, “That’s no wife. She’s just an empty shell who’s sucking all your money up into her childless womb.”

  “Ma,” Lucky started but then kept quiet.

  Zain expected him to come to her defense, maybe say that she was doing everything the fertility specialist had said they should do. He could’ve said that they just needed more time to try, but he said nothing more. Feeling tears gather in her eyes, she turned on her heels and rushed out of the house.

  “Ma, you forgot our lunches again!” Maari reminded her as she started the car.

  “I’ll buy you something.”

  “Burgers?”“Pizza?” She let the kids suggestions eclipse her disappointment in Lucky.

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