Love Delayed

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Love Delayed Page 19

by Love Belvin


  Before she could fully come down, I was behind Zoey slamming into her with full force. I swallowed my cries by biting my lips.

  “Arch your lower back, Niña,” I urged by tapping the small of her back.

  If anyone would have told me that coaching a woman on how to fuck would turn me on like this, I would have called them a liar. Zoey perfectly arched her back and I plunged into her.

  “Hold on to the headboard.” I could hear the desperate groan in my own voice.

  Zoey did just that as I impaled her hips. I moved hard and swift, no longer exercising patience. I was now turned on by the fruits of my labor. I tried driving deeper and deeper into her. I relished this moment of her supplication; she rarely showed it. But I felt it while bucking into her as she called my name like a fucking plea. I didn’t know if she could come for a third time, but just in case I needed to warn her.

  “I’m about to bust, Niña!” I grounded out.

  “Okay,” she drug out dizzily.

  I exploded. Completely overcome with her submission, I lost control. I pulled Zoey into me by the hips as my body jerked, releasing my desire for this woman. Once able to move again, I slipped out and collapsed next to her on the tiny bed. After a few moments, I was able to speak.

  “Zoey, where’s your bathroom. I need to flush this condom.”

  Zoey moaned, satisfactorily. “Give it to me. I’ll take it.”

  I steeled at those words. Those were the maneuvers of gold-diggers. The type of women I was good at detecting. There was silence for seconds long until I was able to remind myself of who I was with. I won’t say I’d suddenly become easy with doing it, but I did succumb to the offer. I pulled the rubber off and double tied it before handing it to Zoey.

  The thoughts that raced through my mind while she took off to the bathroom were not of paranoia or doubt that Zoey was indeed flushing the used condom. No. They were far-reaching and just plain ole fucking crazy. Absolutely insane with this young and promising young woman’s bright future ahead. Nope! Couldn’t continue down that road of insanity.

  Zoey retuned next to me on the bed. She wiggled her way into my frame.

  “When you were coming, why did you say you couldn’t hold out?”

  “I don’t know,” Zoey answered, aloof. “It’s what you always say. And now that I can do what you do, I figured that’s why you say it.”

  “Okay, so the word is orgasm. And yes, I say that to you when I’m about to, but that’s my role as a man. You’re always supposed to come first. It’s my job to make sure you do. It’s the only way for me to know if you’re enjoying me.”

  “Oh, is that what guys do?”

  I chuckled. “I don’t know what guys do, Zo. I can only tell you that a real man works for his lover’s orgasm before he reaches his own. You never let a man get in the habit of neglecting your need to release.”

  “Is that my job?”

  “Yes and no. Generally speaking, it takes women longer to climax than men. If he’s your lover and not just someone you’re fucking, it’s his job to be patient and help you work toward it. If you’re just fucking, you may be on your own.”

  “You’re my lover, Stent,” she whispered docilely.

  I confirmed right away and vehemently. “You’re damn right.”

  “Wow,” she sighed. “I’ve learned three amazing things tonight.”

  “What?”

  “How breathing affects my ability to orgasm; that my lover is equally responsible for my orgasms; and what you can do with that long and wide tongue of yours.”

  Unable to control my laughter, I blurted, “What?”

  “Yeah, from the first picture I took of you at the diner last summer. I’d been wondering what you could with something that size.”

  Still laughing, I said, “Zo, get some damn sleep.”

  “Okay,” she sighed, contended.

  The dinging of my phone woke me. I checked to find a text from Rob asking if I was good. I searched the screen for the time and saw it was just after three in the morning. I couldn’t believe I slept so hard. It was only supposed to be a quick closing of the eyes. I needed to be on a plane in three short hours.

  I slowly dragged my cramped body from the narrow ass bed and searched for my clothes in the dark. Quietly, I dressed and just as I located the doorknob to leave, I recalled what I wanted to leave with her. I pulled out three stacks and laid it on the table closest to me. I didn’t want to risk knocking into something by going to the nightstand nearest her bed.

  The second time I reached for the knob, I heard Zoey slur, “I love you.”

  Those three words stopped me in my tracks. I wondered if she was talking in her sleep. She hadn’t spoken them since Alpine. I’d almost thought they were a part of my active imagination. My stomach turned, but in a good way. Sheer fucking bliss.

  “I love you more, Niña,” I whispered.

  And I did. There was no way she could care for me more than I did her. No way she longed for me the way I obsessed over her. When it came to Zoey, I lost all common sense; tonight was a clear demonstration of that.

  When I closed her dormitory door behind me, all I could think of was how soon I could be with her again. When would I see her face again?

  So fucking pretty. And such fucking trouble.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Zoey

  About two weeks later, and with much trepidation, I found myself knocking on Stenton’s apartment door in Philadelphia. How I was able to make it there with my clunker, I didn’t know. I wasn’t all that sure if I wanted to be there in the first place.

  I didn’t expect a strange man to open the door. He was tall, Caucasian and drunk, so different from the one downstairs who “checked” me in.

  “Hi,” I croaked out. “Is Stenton home?”

  Why did I sound like a child?

  The tall guy chuckled and moved aside. I entered the apartment and saw random figures walking about and some even sitting. His place was modest in size and very contemporary with high ivory stained walls and walnut wooden floors, highlights and features. It was by no means the expanse of his home in Alpine, but it was probably the fanciest apartment I’d ever been in. I entered directly into the living room where there was an open floor plan that blended the room with the kitchen and dining room from what I could see through the crowd. There wasn’t a houseful, but certainly more than I expected, considering I was only expecting Stenton.

  It didn’t take me long to find him. Once the door closed behind me and I looked to my right, he was there, talking to a woman with platinum hair. His attention automatically transitioned to me and stayed there though he didn’t move. His eyes instinctively slanted in awareness of my presence. It’s funny how your body becomes aware of certain senses once you’ve shared it with another individual.

  The woman he spoke with melded into the wall, clearly comfortable with her proximity to Stenton. His body language spoke interest to me, but hers said she wanted more than Stenton’s proximity there against the wall. I wasn’t in the mood for people. I just wanted a bed, preferably mine at my parents’.

  Stenton’s face transformed almost into a scowl. I didn’t see his usual smile when he recognized me. I kind of sort of wondered why, but the wiser part of me knew he was concerned about my disposition.

  “Hey, Mascot!” I heard from the left of me. I turned to find Tynisha, holding a fancy, short, and thick bottle that had the word Mauve printed across it. This was my first time seeing her off a television or computer screen. I’d guessed she’d learned I was a student. “I didn’t know you were coming,” she said stoically, but from her stomach.

  “Neither did I, but I’m here,” I uttered dryly. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  I didn’t know if Tynisha was coming for me and, just in case she was, I wasn’t in the mood this night. From what I’d seen of her, she was very much a mouthy woman with lots of attitude, She played up her Jamaican roots when she wanted to expose her raffish persona. And when she wanted
to present as demure and model-worthy, she’d highlight her Korean heritage. When I Googled her last summer after meeting Stenton and Alton, what confused me was that her father is Jamaican, and her mother is Korean, but she uses her mother’s surname, Lang. Pretty pretentious if you ask me.

  Tynisha wore indigo blue jeans that fit her like a glove with a knitted halter-top and 5-inch thigh-high boots. Leave it to the fashion designer to wear a summer top in the middle of winter and it be appropriate material. Tynisha always dressed well from what I saw of her: it was her profession. Me, on the other hand, I wore my Chuck E. Cheese uniform top with dark khakis, looking all of twelve. Not that Tynisha was much larger than me, but at least she had style that enhanced her tiny frame. I felt like the very mascot she referred to me as. The only reason I didn’t dwell on it was because even on my best day, I couldn’t measure up to Tynisha’s style. She was a stylist to the stars, for goodness’ sake.

  “Shit, Mascot. You need a sedative.” She raised the bottle, appearing extremely tipsy herself. “Want some?”

  I don’t know why, but my eyes automatically went to Stenton, who was posted up on the wall with the platinum honey. His eyes were on me…and my brief conversation with Tynisha. He nodded his head firmly. That was strange. When Alton offered me a drink back in Alpine, Stenton vehemently said no. My eyes traveled back over to Tynisha who had caught his notion and grabbed a glass to pour some for me. When she handed it to me I took a huge gulp, feeling somehow it was of Stenton’s will.

  She walked away and went toward the kitchen. “Everybody out! The host says it’s time to call it a night!” I heard someone yell over the crowd.

  I turned in an attempt to search for the initiator of that demand, but only found Stenton, towering over me in a greater proximity than I’d seen him with the platinum chick. My breathing automatically increased at the discovery of his all-consuming presence and entrancing Bergamot scent.

  “Why do you seem so uptight?” he asked directly into my neck. “You haven’t smiled once since walking through that door.”

  “Neither have you,” I whispered, already taken by his company.

  “Trust… I’m happy you’re here. Now I can relax.” I felt the sliver of his tongue on my neck.

  “Peace, Stent.”

  “Goodnight, love birds.”

  “Great gathering.”

  “Thanks for having me over.”

  “Congrats.”

  All of those messages I heard from just beyond Stenton, whose large frame hovered over mine against the wall.

  “Stent,” I moaned. “Stop. We’re not alone.”

  “Yes, we are. And even if we weren’t you couldn’t keep my hungry mouth from you. I’ve missed my Niña,” he growled then his tongue was back on my neck.

  “Wait…wait!” I pushed at his hard chest.

  His head pulled up and his scowl was on me when he howled, “What the fuck, Zo?”

  I licked my lips as I glanced around. People were gathering their coats and heading out the door just a few feet from where we stood. I didn’t want all eyes on me while I was making out with him. So easily could I get caught up in his fragrance. Also, I didn’t want Stenton getting all worked up for nothing. I found my way back to his inquisitive glower.

  “It’s just that I don’t want to get too carried away. I have to leave soon,” I whined. “It’s late.”

  Stenton’s eyes fluttered and brows knitted. “You’re not leaving tonight.” Then his tongue was back on me—in me.

  Stenton’s masterful tongue invaded my mouth sinuously. My back slammed into the wall, my knees went limp and my core kindled at his force. I felt the hunger pour from the back of his throat into mine, depositing an untamed desire. I was caught up instantly, but I had to fight against his passion. Still, I couldn’t shake my sour mood or my physical disposition. I pushed against him again.

  His heavy eyes pried open. “You’re killing me, Zo. What the fuck is going on?” he begged gruffly.

  I looked around again, noticing the apartment had emptied. I couldn’t use the excuse of a lack of privacy anymore. Within seconds, the front door slammed. My chest heaved. My legs quivered. But my belly remained bloated.

  “We can’t tonight, Stenton,” I whimpered, finding it difficult to peer into his eyes.

  “What do you mean we can’t, Niña? I’ve been thinking about this—dreaming about this for weeks.”

  My stomach flipped. “I know,” I swallowed. “Me, too…but not tonight. Maybe in a couple of days,” I whispered. My eyes were shut tight and my nose ascended while my mouth went south. I couldn’t say it.

  Stenton retracted from me to study my face and steeled in place. I cracked a lid to find his creased forehead. My eye shut quickly, ashamed. I felt him drop to his knees and heard him take a deep pull of air. I almost died on the spot, overcome with humiliation. He rose again, collapsing his face into my neck.

  “Is my Niña on her period?”

  My head collapsed into the wall behind me. My eyes still squeezed shut and I scraped my bottom lip through my teeth. I nodded.

  “I just need to go home to my Momma. My cramps are killing me. I just need her and her chicken soup,” I breathed out.

  “No.” He took me at the small of my waist, and then his fingers went lower into my pants, grasping my backside until our pelvises touched. I felt his steely erection. “You need an orgasm. The endorphins will help with your cramps. And the last I checked, mothers don’t give out those; lovers do.”

  My mouth swung open, giving away my abrupt aroused state.

  “Are you wearing a pad or tampon?” he spoke softly into my ear.

  I heaved, “Stenton!”

  Stenton didn’t remove his stance or proximity.

  His breath pushed tantalizingly onto my neck. I’d hoped I wasn’t chafing at his patience. This was all new to me.

  “Niña, I am your lover, right?”

  I shook my head enthusiastically.

  “You don’t have to be bashful with your lover, especially if he wants you in the condition you’re in.” Stenton paused for a minute, burying his face in the crook of my neck. When he lifted his head he, softly yet fixedly, shared in my ear, “I…need you tonight. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to have to try. I just need for you to trust me when I say I want you as you are, and I will take care of you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I squealed, sounding tortured. I was. This was a new venture for me.

  “Okay.” The strain was removed from his vocals.

  “But, Stenton, I don’t have clothes for tomorrow, or enough tampons to last.”

  “What brand of tampons do you use?”

  When I couldn’t find my breath to speak from the mortification I was drowning in, Stenton removed the strap of my purse that had already fallen into the arch of my arm as the palm of my other gripped the glass.

  “My bedroom is upstairs to the left. It’s the only room on that side. Go inside the bathroom there and strip down to your underwear and bra. I want to remove those myself. I’ll meet you there as soon as I lock up the apartment.”

  Stenton’s face pulled back to meet my eyes, then he slowly pushed off of the wall, giving me space to move. Hesitantly, I shuffled around him and took to the staircase.

  I found my way to his bedroom with ease. As he advised, there was just one door on this side of the second level. When I unhooked the knob and pushed the door, I was chary about what I’d find there.

  His room was calm, and dimly lit with hues of browns and hunter green. The ceiling was high and coffered. In the center of it was some fancy material, no ordinary sheetrock. The walls were lined with wainscoting, adding to the elegance. Immediately to my left was a small sitting area with a long suede chaise and coffee table with a messy display of sports magazines. His king sized bed against a tall tufted headboard was on the opposite side of the room, not too far from the window that boasted the Philadelphia skyline. Almost directly across from the foot of the bed, was an open door that
I soon learned was the en suite bathroom.

  I searched for the light when I entered. Upon the room illuminating I noticed it, too, was a margin of the size of the one in Alpine. Yet it was just as intimidating and well appointed. It reminded me of worldly Stenton. I don’t know where the audacity came from, but I downed the liquid from the drink Tynisha handed me, not knowing what it was. With lessened reluctance, I stripped.

  Man! I wasn’t totally settled on sex while on my period, but Stenton was right; I trusted him. And a small part of me—a very irrational and daring part of me—was curious about his desire for me, even in this state.

  I wasn’t in there too long before I heard the door crack. I refused to chance a glance behind me; I was too humiliated to open myself to the possibility of one of his guests from earlier being there—or worse, Alton. Nope! I’d keep my eyes stapled ahead. Seconds later, I heard Maroon 5’s Sunday Morning pour from the speakers, making me aware he had surround sound here in Philly, too. This has to be Stenton. He knew what got me charged to seduce me. I was now more convinced.

  But when I felt his erection press against the seam of my behind, I knew it was Stenton. It was his length, width, scent and radiating heat that alerted all of my cells and caused them to go atwitter.

  “You’re making the sound with the back of your throat again, Niña,” his thick baritone breathed into my neck.

 

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