Taunted Souls: A Friends to Lovers Romance

by Janice Ross

  “I’m into the business of securing my future. My dad had everything in the world, but lost it like that.” He snapped two fingers together.

  I walked off, pressing both palms on top of my head. After several seconds I walked back and continued, “Damn, man, how old are you anyway? When does the bullshit end?”

  “Look, man, I don’t need to explain myself to you of all people. Nobody said hey, let’s give Rory a chance at a better life so he doesn’t have to stumble upon it the way we did. Nope. I’ve had to do what I needed to survive.” He got a far-off look in his eyes.

  “I’m only saying—”

  “Hell no, you don’t get the chance to pass judgment on me. Your ass is a part of this too, Lucas. The money, that shit won’t last, not dirty money. Some of us still gotta fight and do some grimy shit to survive.”

  “I’m not trying to judge—”

  “Then don’t, because my judgment is yours too!” Now it was Rory’s turn to walk off. His boots crashed onto the concrete stairway. He moved through the crowds in beast-like resolve, dodging professional men and women.

  In hot pursuit, I eventually caught up as Rory reached the other sidewalk. “Fine! I don’t mean to judge you. C’mon, let’s talk. You can tell me about this whole business.” Though it wasn’t what I wanted, Rory was practically my brother. If there were dealings that could potentially affect him, we needed to have this discussion.

  Rory’s brows smoothed out, moving from crinkles to a more normal pattern. He nodded.

  A couple blocks up, we found a small diner and ordered cheesesteaks, fries, and natural juices. Rory was adamant about having the seat facing the door. “Never know when I’ll run into someone I know.”

  “I don’t know how you know half the people you do.” Which was an accurate observation on my part.

  Rory balled up a few napkins, aimed and failed to connect with his target. The napkins landed just short of my nose. “Other than the money you put toward the houses, what have you done with your portion?” This was the second time he’d mentioned the money today. I blew it off the last time, but he seemed a bit too complacent now.

  I leaned in and uttered in a low tone, “Now. We’re discussing that now . . . here . . . in public?”

  “Why not? Bash hangs around most of the time, or one of the other guys are within earshot.” After only taking a single bite, Rory held up his hand while finishing off his mouthful. He then took a swish of juice and started back up, “We found that money more than five years ago—”

  “Found? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

  “Found. Stole. Wait, would you prefer borrowed?” Rory’s hand shot up in the air. This was typical for him. He had this persona of invincibility. Fine for him, but I knew better.

  “I’m done with this topic.”

  “Whatever, man! There’s like three people in here.”

  “And I know you know better.”

  Rory nodded before picking up the bread and thrusting it into his mouth. He chomped on the sandwich. I had to look away to keep from throwing up. This whole doom and gloom feeling came over me. Not a day went by where I didn’t think about the money. But I’d brush the thought out every time. I had multiplied my portion. There was a good enough sum building in stocks and all too. We hadn’t made the money dirty, we only took what wasn’t meant to be ours.

  “Chill out, Lucas.” Rory shoved fries between his lips. “This is my first meal for the day.” He moaned. “You’re not gonna eat your sandwich?”

  “Dude, why do women go crazy over your disgusting ass?” I asked.

  “Don’t hate on me, bro. I haven’t eaten much, worrying about your punk ass in jail.”

  We snorted out, drawing attention from a young couple that had just walked into the diner, followed by three men in business suits. The men only stared for about two seconds, but the women . . . several females gawked at us. Rory kicked my shin before using his chin to shift focus to our audience.

  “Excuse me, Lucas . . .” a sultry, familiar voice called out from the next booth over.

  I slid around in my seat to see an overeager reminder of my night. I didn’t immediately remember her name, yet the visual of her being scared out on my car was enough.

  “It’s me . . . Erika . . .” she reintroduced herself as she stepped around the partition to stand at the edge of my seat. I’d seen a different side of her; the casual business suit threw me off. Erika’s thick waves were pulled into a tight bun. Even her makeup was tame, truly showcasing a natural beauty.

  “You clean up nicely,” I teased. I’m not entirely sure of how I should have felt toward her right then. Because of her, I’d gotten locked up. “Is your man here?”

  “Aww, man, c’mon. Tony is my past.” Erika’s pupils grew, her lower lip stuck out and her head tilted. Even a simple gray, summer blend skirt suit couldn’t break her out of seductress mode. “Can I join you?” she added, only then seeing Rory. “Oh hey.”

  “Are you stalking my boy here?” Rory asked, licking his fingertips individually.

  “Anyways, can I join you?” Erika bypassed. Rather than wait for an invitation, she slid into the blood-red seat next to me.

  “I remember you,” Rory continued. He wasn’t the type to let someone’s discomfort get in the way of him being an asshole.

  “Um, yeah, from last night. I thought we already confirmed that.” Erika’s pupils darted between Rory and me. I could have sworn I saw sweat drops at the tip of her nose.

  “No, you were at that other spot a couple months ago.” Rory snapped his fingers. “Remember, Lucas, the chick that spilled beer on you.”

  I studied him, then dragged my focus over to her.

  She pouted more than before. After loosening a strand of hair close to her crown, she twirled it between two fingers. “I recognized you last night.”

  “So why didn’t you say something?”

  “A girl can’t act shy?” Her breasts eased close to my chest. She did a sloppy job of trying to be slick. Yet I don’t think she cared. “Got some time for me?”

  I wasn’t sure about her at this point, whether it was her being underhanded or just interested. “What are your plans for later?” Rory asked. “Not for me, for him.” He nodded, laughed and ducked.

  “My plans for later are . . .” Erika massaged my forearm while kneeling in the seat. She swooped in close to my ear and whispered an apology for last night. Once done, her lips just barely brushed against the side of my face. “Here’s my card. My personal cell number is on the back. Your move. I’ll be waiting.” She strolled off. The card was white with black lettering and a title: Broker.

  Her heels clicked on the faux tile floor. The door pulled, chimes clinked in response. I knew she’d walked out, although my face wasn’t in view. I stuck Erika’s card into my pocket. Although there was no reason to, my mind flashed on Shayna. Erika was no Shayna, but at least she showed interest in being more than just a friend.

  —

  Erika’s place wasn’t far from Arthur Avenue in The Bronx. With my Camaro out of commission, I hopped a yellow taxi. I left Rory at the hotel we had to rent for the weekend; he was in deep discussion with the oddball, Ryan. Bash had disappeared. We figured he must’ve hooked up with some chick. He always had some underhanded hookup. No one ever knew who he was banging, not so much as a glance. You’d think we hadn’t known each other for all this time.

  As the cab rolled up to the curb, I searched out the address, paid the cabbie, slammed the door shut, and headed up Erika’s stairs. Before I could knock, she flung it open.

  “Eager much?” I teased. She escorted me into the house wearing a robe. The air was crisp and fresh, while the design and layout were open, inviting. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture to clutter up the rooms; and oak floors and bright golden fixtures made the place pop.

  “I don’t entertain much—” Erika started by stretching out the explanation.

  “You’re a different person.” I let my obse
rvation sink in. Erika’s chest quivered up and down. We crossed the other end to the foyer leading up a short hallway and past a stunning dining room. Don’t get me wrong. The place was just right. And for someone who renovated homes for a living, I could’ve admired it all damn day. But I didn’t care to prolong the inevitable.

  Erika cleared her throat, and encouraged me to continue by bobbing her head.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she sang and pouted. “Lucas, I’m just a girl, looking for some affection. I just got out of a painful relationship. Prior to that .” She paused to caress her hair. “Prior to Tony, I’d lost the love of my life.”

  “You don’t owe me this.”

  “I know it’s not owed. I’m freely giving.” She uncovered the robe from her shoulders, one at a time, before releasing it to the ground.

  I tucked my fingers beneath a thick, red-laced mini. It crumbled from the top and would’ve hit the floor, were it not for Erika’s wide hips and ample ass. As the clothes lingered, clinging with purpose, I spread my fingers wide. I gripped those same hips, the ones that women who craved that ideal Coca Cola shape would kill for. My hands were wide enough to spread around her sides and reach her ass. I pushed the red material down further; Erika cooed in response.

  I circled her. “Your man—”

  “Ex-man,” Erika corrected, while maintaining her stint on the imaginary chopping block.

  “Whatever you choose to call it. You tried to convince me of how innocent you were.”

  “No, I didn’t, Lucas,” she gasped.

  “Yes, you did. You were crying and broken.” I didn’t touch her again.

  “I was,” she replied with a nod.

  “But now?” I forced her dress to the ground.

  “I want you,” she whispered.

  “Why?” I thought it was a legitimate question.

  “Every second around you makes me want you more and more.”

  “Really?” I panted.

  “Lucas,” Erika began, bending low to recover the dress I’d finally inched to the hardwood floor.

  “Don’t get shy now. Stand back up, just the way you were,” I commanded.

  She hesitated for about a second until she was able to straighten up. She proceeded to plead her case, “Never said I was innocent.” Her eyelashes fluttered quicker than what would be considered as reasonably normal.

  “Yeah, you never used the word, but you showed something different last night. Can I be honest with you?” I watched as her head dipped. Thick strands of hair cascaded down. I would never shame her, so I captured her chin.

  I ran my hand down below, using my fingers to part those lips and slide inward. I massaged the flesh, round and round. Yet my fingers only teased her walls, never once breaking through to get fully moistened. “Do you want to give up your body?”

  “Ahhh!” Erika cried out. Her legs nearly collapsed as she pumped her head up and down.

  “Don’t nod, respond. Let me hear you,” I ordered.

  “Y-y-yes,” she stuttered out, barely able to complete the sentence. It wasn’t that her strength suddenly diminished, no. I’m a semi-genius, a mastermind with the female anatomy. As she peaked, I slipped a finger inside. I allowed my instincts to guide me to her spot. Erika’s earth-shattering yesss was in fact a release.

  She fell apart at the seams, collapsing even before the first round of juices stopped squirting. But I was there to rescue her. I picked up her weary, still-naked body. Her fingers contracted, showing her veins. I stomped through the house. Once upstairs, Erika pointed to her room. I entered and placed her on the bed with the slutty red dress.

  “I need a shower. Been a long day.” Yeah, I hadn’t washed off the stench from the fight or jail.

  Erika pouted, and then nibbled on her bottom lip.

  Shayna’s lips. Damn, how could something within reach be so difficult? How could my mind go there?

  “Lucas, I need you.”

  I’m thinking about another girl that doesn’t give a shit about me. If, now that’s a big damn if, Shayna wanted me, she would’ve made it known.

  “Are you in a hurry? Seriously,” I teased because if I didn’t force myself to move on, I would end up stressing over one of the most amazing girls I might never have—Shayna.

  When Erika didn’t answer, I stripped and searched out the bathroom. I was only gone for about five minutes when the shower curtain flipped open. She stepped in without saying a word. I made room. She eased onto her knees one at a time. Her hands lay flat on my chest and slid lower as she captured my growing erection between wide lips. Her fingers dug into my sides, especially when she guided my thrusts inside her mouth. The deeper she took me in, the tighter her claws.

  I leaned my upper body to the tiled walls. It was a tight enough space to relax this way, though she kept my lower body active. My hands went to the shower to turn it off. Erika was determined to drain the life out of me, so even with the water probably stifling her, she wouldn’t let up. What man couldn’t get used to this type of treatment? Not necessarily from Erika, but daily. For her part, she’d done an excellent job of pleading her case and trying to land a spot in my forecast.

  —————

  LUCAS

  I SLOWLY LIFTED my eyes and adjusted my breathing. For a second, I needed to rethink and get in touch with my surroundings. The room was filled with a lighter scent and delicate fragrance.

  Erika . . . Erika Alexander.

  She was one bad chick, and in a good way too. While I lay diagonally on the black sheets of her king-sized bed, I turned my head from one side to the next. As an afterthought, I peeped down below. Erika’s hair peered out, scattered and in complete disarray like she’d been handed something fierce the entire night. My flesh flexed at the mere thought of what took place.

  “Are you ready?” her muffled voice trailed from beneath the sheets.

  “It’s like that?” I didn’t mind, though a break was needed. We’d gone on all night and into the early morning hours. “It’s five fifteen.”

  “No work today. I took a sick day,” she proudly replied as her head disappeared under the sheet. “I called in as soon as I got off the phone with you yesterday.”

  “You’re bad,” I offered as a compliment. She was spontaneous. That was refreshing. But if it was Shayna, would it be the same?

  “Glad you called, Lucas?”

  “Speaking of phone, I need mine.” Maybe Shayna reached out again. How could I convince myself this had nothing to do with her? Every pause, every thought wouldn’t separate itself from her.

  “What, you have to check in with your girl?” Erika’s words brought me away from a journey I needed to avoid. She eased up to lie against the side of my chest.

  “No girl,” I began. But after my words appeared to linger unclaimed, I added, “Not interested in a relationship.”

  “Me neither,” Erika tried to convince me and save face. She quickly gave me her back. But the shakiness in her words did little to make me believe that I hadn’t just hurt her feelings. Sure I enjoyed her, but this was only sex. Nothing more. Incredible sex, though nothing to build a relationship on.

  Would I revisit?

  Hell yeah!

  That’s all I could promise.

  “My car needs work. You remember the guy you saw me with yesterday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s having some mechanic do a rush job on the glass. Tell you what, let me check things, then I’ll get you breakfast,” I promised, then stood up and smacked her bare ass.

  She yelped, then mumbled.

  The phone was buried underneath my clothes and a boatload of decorative pillows. The screen lit up with a single text and a single missed call. Both from Rory. My battery flashed a warning at 5 percent.

  “You have an iPhone?”

  “Plug it in over here.” She directed me to a nearby cord that ran across an end table.

  The text message read:

  Lucas

  I hated wh
en people did that. There was no need to wait for a reply, it’s a text! Nonetheless, I deleted the text and listened to the voicemail:

  “You’re gonna be pissed . . .”

  I grabbed my pants and yanked them up in one quick move. No further details in the bullshit voicemail, and forget about the text.

  “I gotta go. Something’s up. Shit, I know it’s my ride. Can you at least get me to the nearest subway or a cab?” I set down the phone to allow a bit more charging, entered the bathroom and got ready to leave five minutes later. The phone got up to 10 percent, which had to do. Before I unplugged, I tried Rory’s line. No surprise, it went straight to voicemail.

  “Shit!”

  I turned to see Erika still spread naked as before. “What the fuck? Can I get a ride?” Her pupils grew wide and glassed over. Her mouth turned downward. “Don’t get caught up in your feelings. I’ll be back.” Though she didn’t do backflips or anything like that, she perked up a little.

  She drove me to a reasonable location in order to catch a cab. It was early and musky out already, and I was beyond annoyed.

  My phone buzzed about a mile and a half away from the hotel. “Yeah?”

  “Lucas, what the hell?” a nasally male voice sped off on the line. “It’s Bash.”

  “Bash, whose phone is this?”

  “One of the guys.”

  “Where’s Rory?”

  “Man, how the hell am I supposed to know?” Bash’s voice deepened.

  “Why the hell are you calling me then?” Annoyed wasn’t the right word. Neither was pissed. This was a damn waste of my time. That, along with the fact that my cell was setting up to go dead again made me edgy. Rather than have him push me further into insanity, I flicked the line off. I shoved the driver more than the rate and exited onto the sidewalk.

  Standing at the front of the building, I spotted Rory in a heated conversation with one of the guards. I shifted to a steady pace since I’d literally started forming fists at my sides. This was the type of overly dramatic crap I couldn’t deal with. Seriously, if there was an issue, then why in the hell was he out here like this?