by Pepper Pace
"Toya, baby, I love you so very much. I can't promise you that no one will ever hurt you out there. I do know that the only way that THEY can hurt me, is by hurting you. I can promise that if somebody hurts you...I'll hurt them, worse." He looked at his hands. "But I can't make you love me. That’s one thing I can't do. I can't make you be in the same place that I am." He shook his head and stared at her hard. "I can't make you not give a damn about what others say, just because I don't."
Toya felt the tears that had been stinging her eyes finally drop down her cheeks. She spread the fingers of her left hand knowing that Eric would intertwine his with hers...and he did.
"Baby." He said, gently tugging her hand to make her look directly into his eyes. "I know that you're a person of few words when it comes to speaking from the heart. I know that you feel it but you don't say it--and that’s okay...Baby it’s okay with me when you don’t say you love me. But today...I have to know that we're in the same place at the same time."
Toya felt all of her fears swelling within her.
“I’ve fallen in love with you and I’m so scared.” His expression softened.
“Why?”
Falling in love meant being vulnerable to any number of things, rejection among them. And she’d been hurt so badly in the past. But being in love with a white man meant opening herself up to the possibility of being hurt on an even deeper level.
She opened her mouth and knew that she could tell him about the things that had hurt her so badly in the past, things that she had never told even Phyllis.
“When I was a kid I was so ashamed of myself. I thought I was ugly because my skin wasn’t just brown, it was black, and my hair wouldn’t grow long and curly. I was always the blackest girl wherever I went and back when I was a kid, dark skin was shunned even by black people. I got all of the jokes about being midnight, shadow, charcoal, tootsie roll.
“Then I just started paying attention to what it really meant to be black; to come from adversity, to have strength to keep going. My blackness wasn’t ugly. I began looking at pictures of beautiful black skinned people and saw something in them that no European person could ever have. I knew I was beautiful. If I didn’t know it then no one else would. And I became proud of how black my skin was.”
Eric smiled and even though her eyes were still wet with tears she smiled too.
“I think you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever met. And, baby, you can be black and proud and still be with me, because I’m never going to ask you to be anything but who you are.” He said simply.
She squeezed his hand in appreciation. “I guess someplace deep down inside of myself is that vulnerability that I thought I’d killed with my proud talk and natural hair and my hard attitude.”
She untwined their fingers from his and placed her hands on his cheeks, staring deeply into his eyes.
“I love you, Eric. I love you so much and I’ve wanted to say it so many times. But I couldn’t because then I wouldn’t be able to deny it to myself if everything between us ended badly. At least if I never said that I loved you I could be safe knowing that I never completely gave my heart. But it was a lie. I love you with all of my heart.”
Eric was shaking when Toya wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed her body against his again. Their kisses were hungry and passionate. He gripped her hips and pulled her pelvis to him, and then he rubbed his erect penis against her until the friction made him groan into her mouth.
She reached between them and grabbed him, her fingers firmly wrapped around his heavy cock. At the touch of her hand on him Eric took his own hand and wrapped it around hers, tightening her grip while his hips rocked back and forth and his moans filled the room as he fucked her fist.
Toya knew what she wanted then. She pushed him back until he was lying on the floor. Eric put his hands behind his head already picturing his beautiful woman riding him. But she surprised him when instead of mounting him she bent down to flick his hardened nipples with her tongue. He shivered his mouth parting. He watched as she trailed kisses down his body, pausing at his belly button long enough to dip her tongue languidly within its depths before continuing her journey.
Eric jerked in barely contained passion at the feel of her tongue on the trail of hair leading down to the bush of his pubic hair. He threw his head back and groaned in his throat when her lips met the base of his swollen cock.
She had never touched his cock with her mouth before and he didn’t know if he would be able to last if she closed her mouth over him.
Toya pushed back the foreskin, amazed at the sight of the newly exposed head and how purple and swollen it was. Eric’s pre-cum was oozing from the slit and her mouth watered in anticipation of her first taste of him.
Her tongue flicked out, and lapped up the salty sweet fluid. Eric’s back arched and he groaned. It took all of his strength not to grip her head and pump uncontrollably into her mouth. Instead he buried his hands into her short hair and fought to control his movements as her mouth finally closed over him
"I'm coming," he groaned urgently. “Baby, I’m going to come in your mouth!” He warned and tried to push her away but her head began to bob up and down faster as her mouth sucked harder.
With a loud cry, Eric’s hips jutted forward and he began rapidly fucking her mouth as he shot off.
He hadn’t lasted a minute.
When there was not a drop left, and his flaccid cock was licked clean, Toya moved on the floor to snuggle against his body and he pulled her to him, his strong arms making her feel very protected.
“Love you so much.” He murmured sleepily. Usually she just kissed him a response without speaking. This time she snuggled closer to him.
“I love you Eric James.”
Sophie sat there with the laptop in her lap. My god…was all she could think. Oh my god. Sophie quickly slid the laptop onto the couch and hurried into the kitchen. Lucas was whisking the dark liquid marinade in a plastic bowl. He raised his brow at her.
“Finished?”
Her mouth was hanging open. “You did it perfectly.”
He sighed. “Cool, I was hoping that speech Eric gave wasn’t too over the top.”
She was shaking her head adamantly. “You wrapped it up perfectly, Lucas. You captured everything and brought it together.”
He carefully poured some of the marinade into a gallon zip lock bag before commenting. “We are far from the end of the story.”
“Yeah, but we don’t have to focus on their racial differences any longer. That was tedious. Toya finally got some sense and is at least willing to admit that they are different and it’s okay. People are always going to look, but it shouldn’t matter to them what other people think!”
Lucas put down the bowl. “Do you really believe that?”
“Yeah! When I dated Tony, I never paid attention to the curious looks we got. Him being Italian…maybe caused him more problems, but,” she shook her head, “I just didn’t care.”
Lucas stared at her and Sophie suddenly realized how he took what she was saying. She could see in his look that he thought the only reason that she couldn’t fall in love with him was due to society; how others would perceive it.
She looked away from his hopeful expression. There were other boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.
She grabbed the salmon out of the fridge and silently slipped it into the zip lock bag to marinate. Lucas gathered the dishes he’d just used and placed them into the sink. It was uncomfortable again; the quiet seemed to press down on her.
“I’m going to put some music on.” She didn’t know how to work the entertainment system and decided to just press play on the disc changer so that the music that Lucas had already selected began to play.
She cocked her head. “What’s this song?” Lucas was running water in the kitchen sink and turned to look at her.
“Radiohead. Do you like it?”
“It’s kind of strange. But it feels very…right in this place.”
<
br /> “The owners have lots of Alternative music.”
She joined him in the kitchen again. “Is that what you listened to when you were at home?”
He nodded. “Mostly.”
“Do you…think about it? Home?”
He nodded. “It feels very far from where I am now.” He had a thoughtful look on his face when he turned to her again. “What about your childhood, Sophie?”
She looked surprised that he was asking her the questions now. “I had…a strange childhood. But yeah, I think about it.”
“Was it good?”
“For the most part, I thought so. It was just me and my Mom so it didn’t always feel as if she was my mother. Sometimes it was like she was my big sister or something. She was only 16 when she had me.” She had a distant look on her face. She pulled a towel out of the drawer and began to absently dry the dishes as he washed them.
He continued to watch her. “What about your Dad?”
Sophie shrugged. “I saw this man once. He came to the house and watched me from the doorway of my bedroom. I pretended to be asleep. I think I was three or four. I remembered the man had a big grey knit hat like Rasta’s wear and my mother was standing beside him. She closed the door. It was years later when I asked who he was and she told me that it was my father.
He frowned. “That was the only time that you saw him?”
She placed her hands on the sink, her body was stiff and so was her voice. “She told me that he didn’t want a baby. He was a kid too. He wanted her to leave me with my grandparents and run off with him. But she wouldn’t leave me and so he went off and she never heard from him again.”
Lucas was tempted to pull her into his arms but her posture let him know that it wouldn’t be welcomed. “Do you ever think about finding him?”
She shook her head. “No,” was her simple answer.
He nodded his understanding and then she nudged him out of the way so that she could plunge her hands into the dishwater since he was evidently taking too long to finish up the few dishes. He took a deep breath as he watched her.
“And what about your grandfather?”
She gave him a sharp look, but he saw pain flicker in her expression before it disappeared. “You mean Mouse’s grandfather?” Her tone was clipped.
“No, yours.”
She took so long to answer that he wasn’t sure if she would. “He molested at least one person in that family. But I wasn’t one of them.” After a moment she allowed the tension to release from her body.
She’d never talked to anyone about her feelings on this; not even Tony, especially not Tony. He couldn’t even stand up to his mother. How could she…expect anything more from him? But Lucas knew loss and talking to him wasn’t like being judged.
“I just…I don’t understand how you can love someone that has done something so horrible.” She wrung the dish sponge and then leaned against the sink and he mimicked her. “I was crazy about my grandfather. He was like the only father I ever had. He was always so happy whenever he saw me. His face would light up. And Lucas, he did not have a face that anyone would consider gorgeous. He looked like a great beast. He was dark with a shaved head and huge muscles even though he was old. And he had to have things a certain way; the way he looked, when he shaved his head, how Grandma had to keep the house.
“And that was just the way it was. I could always sense the respect that the family gave him, but later I realized that it was something else, also; fear. They were scared or intimidated by Granddaddy. One time Uncle Earl got drunk and they were all playing pool. This was during one of our Christmas gatherings. You always got drunk at Grandma and Granddaddy’s. Even the kids would drink the dregs left behind from Granddaddy’s home brew.
“But Uncle Earl wasn’t really one of my Uncles. He was just a friend of the family and I remember him and Granddaddy getting loud and Uncle Earl called him ‘Old Man.’ Granddaddy’s voice got loud; it boomed through the house and everyone got quiet. It wasn’t like; here is a fight, we’re going to watch. There was fear in the quiet. Uncle Earl wasn’t afraid because he had never been beat up by my Grandfather like my other uncle’s had. And you have to understand, Lucas. I had five uncles and they were big men. And I’ve never seen any of them refer to my grandfather as anything other than Daddy and using the most respectful tone.”
Sophie’s glazed eyes cleared and she focused on Lucas. “Why did…” She shook her head. “Why did they keep coming back for holiday, to visit, to…love him despite what he’d done to them?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Sophie. But you loved your grandfather, right?”
“Yes, very much so.”
“Then you have your answer. Deep down somewhere inside of you is the answer. Why did you keep going back?”
She gave him a steady look. “I didn’t. I was the only one to punish him by putting an end to my love for him.”
~***~
Lucas dried his hands on the seat of his pants and placed his hands on Sophie’s shoulders. “Does that bother you that no one else punished him?”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I don’t know for certain whether my grandfather even noticed. I was nine years old. I just know that his face would light up at the sight of me, and even though all of my other cousins were around everyone knew that look was just for me. And I would just turn my head and I wouldn’t return his smile. And I never kissed him and I never went to him again.
“If my grandfather noticed he never showed it. He never made me treat him any certain way. He just…kept going and I kept going, too. But my Mama noticed. She didn’t say; ‘you don’t talk to Granddaddy anymore.’ She just looked confused.” Sophie shuddered and big drops of tears fell from her eyes.
She reached up quickly and touched her tear streaked cheeks in surprise. She gave Lucas a wide-eyed look. She never let anyone see her cry; ever. And these tears had come clear out of the blue.
“I’m sorry-” She tried to chuckle, embarrassed at her outburst.
Lucas pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay. You can cry. No one is going to judge you or think badly of you. Hell, I’m proud of you! Your grandfather…your grandfather-”
He heard a muffled sound that couldn’t have been what he thought he’d heard. It sounded like she said, ‘My father.’ Lucas’ head began to swim. His mouth fell open.
“Mama was a liar…” And then she was sobbing; hard chocking sobs that shook her body. “Because it wasn’t Aunt JoJo it was her…”
Jesus Christ…Lucas began to shake himself as he held onto Sophie’s wracking body. Jesus…
“Sophie, you’re okay. You weren’t bad. He was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She was sniffing and trying to stop crying but unable to do so as she hid her face against him. “He was supposed to…t-take care of them! He was their father…” She tried to catch her breath. “He took advantage of his position!”
Oh my god…he understood then. Sophie connected herself with her grandfather! Because she had taken him in, had set herself up in the role of his caregiver, she thought that by allowing herself to feel something for him would mean that she was like her grandfather. Or maybe she didn’t think that she was like him. Maybe she just couldn’t see that there was a difference. Sophie didn’t see that she wasn’t a person that would take advantage of someone; she just needed to allow herself to love him the way that he loved her and to know that together they would be clean and good; nothing they did together would be dirty.