To Break a Vow

by Chencia C. Higgins

  She swallowed audibly, eyes glued to the sparkling diamond. “You’re my thing, now.” The way she said it, distracted and without thinking, did something to me. It was honest and unrehearsed and music to my ears. “How did you know my ring size? This fits perfectly.”

  Dropping the now empty box on the sofa beside me, I returned my fingers to their earlier perch.

  “I guessed based on your shoe size.”

  She nodded, finally peeling her eyes away from her newest heirloom. “Wow, that’s so smart.”

  “Mmhmm,” I muttered, preoccupied with the thick swath of visible skin between her top and the waistband of her pants. Dropping a kiss on the smooth dark caramel, I asked, “Can I undress you?”

  She quirked a brow. “Didn’t I just say I wanted everything?”

  I smirked at her sassy retort. And she called me a smartass? “I need to hear you tell me it’s okay. Tell me that I can do all of the things I want to do to you. Tell me what you want from me.” Head back, chin perched in the valley between her breasts, I met her eyes. “Say it.”

  Her chest heaved and her throat bobbed, undoubtedly turned on by my words. “Undress me. Kiss me. Touch me. Fuck me. Choke me. Spank me. Gag me. Restrain me. Worship me.” Another throat bob. Fingers digging into my shoulders. “I. Want. Every. Thing.”

  I reached for her as she came forward, falling into me while I gripped the back of her neck, our lips crashing together desperately. She was hungry, so fucking hungry, trying to eat my face, sucking my tongue into her mouth and grinding down into my lap. Her hands palmed my dome in the same way that I palmed her ass, rubbing the globes in an exploratory manner, acquainting myself with the feel of them. The temperature in the room ratcheted up several degrees when she released my head and started to tug at my shirt. As soon as it was over my head, I scooted to the edge of the couch and moved her off my lap.

  Wrenching my lips away from hers and ignoring her whimper of protest, I slid her off of my lap until she was standing. Then, hooking my fingers into the elastic waistband of her pants, I proceeded to slide the smooth material down her thick, brown thighs. Bending her knees, she stepped out of them without being prompted and assisted me in removing her top. When she stood before me in nothing but a thin triangle of material that did little to conceal the fatness underneath, I lifted her into my arms and walked the short distance to the bed where I deposited her as gently as I could muster with the amount of hurryhurryhurry coursing through my veins.

  Just beyond her head, folded neatly and sitting atop one of the pillows, were the two belts belonging to the terrycloth robes I’d found hanging on the back of the door in the bathroom. The easiest thing would be to walk over to the right side of the bed and—while there—use them to do as she’d instructed. But I didn’t want to go that route. I needed to see every second of this experience play out on her face.

  “Hand me those, will you?” I tossed my chin in the direction of the cushioned headboard.

  As eager as I was to view her reaction, she did not disappoint. Her eyes widened, mouth gaped open, and skin beaded all over like chicken skin from the Tyson plant back home. Her areolas stretched and dark brown nipples hardened until they looked like chocolate kisses sitting on her chest. She reached for the belts, ass cheeks jiggling as she stretched across the king-size bed and collected them, handing them to me with eyes darkened with lust and bottom lip tucked safely between her teeth. I received the belts, planting an intentionally brief kiss on her mouth.

  “Give me your hands.”

  Instantly, both wrists were exposed to me, hands clasped together as if she had been trained to do this. Running my tongue along my top row of teeth in an attempt to calm down and ignore the new thread of impulse that attempted to take shape, I looped the end of one of the belts in a figure eight around her wrists twice then knotted the belt through the center hole and tugged on the restraint to test the give. Tonya jerked toward me, her breath stuttered through a moan, and my dick throbbed in my pants. I dropped to my knees and tied the other end of the belt to the leg of the rail inside of the bed skirt before stepping back to admire my handiwork.

  Tonya was on her knees a few feet away from the edge of the bed, her chest resting on her elbows and her ass hiked in the air. She was a sight to behold. And she was mine. Not just for the next two and a half hours but forever. And legally, at that. Everything we did would hit a bit different than anything I’d ever experienced before, simply because this wasn’t just some woman. Tonya was my wife. My wife.

  With my eyes trained on my wife, I dropped my hand to my belt and started to undo my pants.

  “Condom.”

  Already two steps ahead of her, I plucked a foil packet from my pocket and stuck it between my teeth when I dropped my pants and briefs to the floor. If I had any question about whether or not she found me attractive, the way she grunted and licked her lips at my fully naked body would have answered that in two seconds. I joined her on the bed after rolling the condom down and over my erection, her eyes tracking my every move. There was something intoxicating about the way she watched me. Seeing the clear desire on her face and knowing that it was for me and me alone, I didn’t get many things to myself, but this—this naked and open look of hers—was mine. For that reason alone, I needed to have her face-to-face when we came together, at least for the first time.

  “I’m turning you over.”

  Gently, I tugged and pushed at her body until she was on her back and staring up at me with those wide brown eyes that I couldn’t get enough of. Her hands rested on the bed above her head and her arms were bent at the elbows, allowing her wrists to cradle her head, cushioned by that bun she’d created. Her legs spread for me, making way and beckoning me to find a home in their apex. I stared down at her covered center; I’d left her thong on because I’d planned to use it for leverage, but now that I’d switched things up they were just in the way. It didn’t take long to remove them, and though I could clearly see evidence of her arousal, I couldn’t allow myself to immediately slide inside of her.

  Canting my head, I angled my body so that we were parallel, though my weight wasn’t on her, and sipped from her lips. She met me greedily, taking all that I had to offer and even more, tugging on her restraint in an effort to wrap her arms around my neck. Unsuccessful, she settled for wrapping her legs around my waist and lifting her lower body to meet mine, grinding wantonly against me as we made love to each other with our mouths.

  “Put it in,” she whispered against my lips.

  Fuck! I wanted like hell to do just that but, “Not yet. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m so horny, I could drown a horse. Put it the fuck in!”

  Chuckling, I did as I was told, holding her hip with one hand as I guided myself inside of her with the other. Twin moans filled the space as I began to rock into her, watching her, devouring her with my gaze as I moved inside of her. Her mouth hung open as she cried out, fingers digging into her palm as she pulled against the restraint, not in an attempt to free herself but to gain leverage as she wound her hips below me, meeting me thrust-for-thrust.

  The air was thick with the sounds and aroma of sex, and I was good; I was fan-fucking-tastic, chilling, enjoying the feel of her when she bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at me. Only a second passed where I wondered what that look was about before I felt it. My response was to jerk forward, the sensation of her pussy squeezing my dick both shocking yet exhilarating.

  “What the fuck?”

  And she giggled. She fucking giggled. Breasts bouncing in the air, shoulders shaking against the bed. She licked her lips.

  “That was just to remind you that I’m here. So you wouldn’t forget about me.”

  “Forget about you?!” Oh, she wanted to play?

  Stopping mid-thrust, I pulled out swiftly and flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips toward me until the terrycloth was taut against the edge of the mattress and her arms were pulled tight in front of her, causing her back to elon
gate in the most photographic way. Goddamn, this woman was so fucking beautiful. Gripping her hips, I lifted her to me as I sank back inside. She hissed, head falling to the bed, my own lids fluttered, eyes threatening to roll to the back of my head.

  She probably expected me to bang her out, to jackhammer into her and fuck her silly. That’s probably what she wanted, why she baited me. I couldn’t blame her; she was just following a likely tried and true formula to getting what she wanted. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know me well enough to understand that wasn’t how I operated. She’d learn soon enough.

  I was a different kind of animal.

  Rising to my knees, I scooted backward across the bed until she was just within my reach, then I lifted her ass into the air until the only parts of her body that touched the sheets were her elbows, face, and those chocolate kiss nipples. Then I went to work. Rolling my hips against her, my movements were almost choreographed as I danced to the sound of her gasps and moans. The pace was deliberate; I wanted her to feel me, to know me, to understand that this wasn’t just about consummation or having an orgasm, but that she was being possessed, that I was stamping my signature inside of her so that no one could ever come behind me.

  This was a ruination.

  I leaned backward, curving my hips at an angle that transformed her moans into soft cries and again into screeching with each thrust. Sweat rolled down my temple as I felt the stirrings of my orgasm begin to take shape.

  “Fuck!” she cried. “What are you doing to me? Shit!”

  I gritted my teeth. “Giving you everything.”

  She began to tremble from head to toe, yanking on the belt and kicking her feet. “Oh, my motherfucking shit!”

  Unable to catch her footing, she started rapidly clenching her pussy around my dick. My rhythm was thrown off balance, and I tried to maintain while under her sporadic attack, but I couldn’t. My pacing stuttered and I lurched forward, grabbing her breasts in my hand, pinching and tugging at her nipples as I thrust inside of her one last time as deeply as I could go, groaning through my climax, which seemed to trigger her own. Face in the mattress, she screamed her head off, cursing me out like I’d just kicked her dog off a bridge.

  In one smooth motion, I released my hold on her hips, pulled out of her, and collapsed onto the mattress beside her. After loosening the knot around her wrist, I carefully peeled off the condom and dropped it on the side of the bed, wiped my fingers on the bedspread, and pushed up on my side to admire the vision that was Tonya. She lay on her side, facing away from me, legs still twitching from the sporadic aftershocks of her orgasm, and hips beautifully marked with the imprints of my fingers on her skin. I took a moment to commit the image to memory—wishing I had my camera—before I reached over her and gathered both of her hands in my own, rubbing gentle circles in her wrists and hands.

  “I hope you have another condom.”

  If I didn’t, I’d damn sure make sure I did as soon as possible. Looking up from her hands, I noticed that her eyes were trained on my dick, which chose that moment to rise to the occasion.

  “Why is that?”

  Pulling her hands from my grasp, she tossed a thick thigh over my waist and climbed on top of me, settling that fat, juicy thing right over my hard head, but not sinking down. The warmth had me counting in my head just how many condoms I had in my duffel bag.

  She licked her lips and swiped at the sheen of sweat under her nose with the side of her finger. “Because I know damn well that wasn’t everything.”

  Chapter Seven

  When Hindsight Is a Sweet Dream

  The nearly three-hour flight and subsequent trek through massive-ass Hobby Airport drained the little bit of energy I had left over from…consummating my union to the enigmatic Jereth. My limbs were sore and my pussy was so sensitive that every brush of fabric against my skin set my teeth on edge. I’d had to take my panties off in the bathroom before we boarded the plane just to get some relief, thankful that the shorts I’d chosen to wear were loosely fitted. I’d managed to catch a nap once we’d reach cruising altitude but it was restless and unsatisfying. From the moment we touched down until I walked through the door of the home I shared with my sisters, I was crashing. Traveling always did it to me, but it felt expounded because of what I’d done and what I’d left in Nevada.

  After a quick shower, I fell into bed feeling surprisingly melancholy. Impulsive wasn’t a word I’d ever used to describe myself and especially not after I became a divorcee and a mother at twenty. Once my decisions started to directly affect someone else’s life, every move I made became calculated and planned. Until now. What the hell had I been thinking?

  Just as I began to descend into a deep, dark pit of shame and regret, the vibration of my phone on the bed next to me caught my attention. Thinking it was my son calling to see what time I was picking him up from his dad’s house tomorrow, I snatched it up, sliding my thumb across the screen and bringing it to my ear without checking the display.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Nicknames already? I guess I sent you off right.”

  I sucked in a breath, heart beating way too fast for me to just be lying on the bed doing not a damn thing.

  “Jereth,” I said, sounding breathless to my own ears as my eyes closed and I sank deeper into my covers. “Hey.”

  “You made it home?”

  I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “Yes.”

  “So, why didn’t you call me?”

  My eyes popped open at the question. “Uh. I didn’t think to do that.”

  “I asked you to call me when you made it back so I could know you got home safely.”

  That’s right. As soon as the words left his mouth I remembered his request. He’d made it just after giving me a goodbye kiss that made me want to drag him back to the hotel. The memory of it made my skin heat.

  “I completely forgot about that. I apologize.” It was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if he was really upset that I hadn’t called him. Just as I took a breath to ask him, he spoke.

  “It’s almost midnight there, right?”

  “Mmhm.”

  “You in bed?”

  “Mmmhm. What about you?” Wherever he was, I could hear a lot of noise in the background. Not so much that he had to speak up to be heard, but enough that I got the idea he was outside on the streets of Las Vegas. Probably on The Strip, where his hotel is located.

  “I’m heading back to my hotel from the arena. The game is over and the West won, as usual.” He chuckled but I had no idea what that even meant. I didn’t keep up with sports outside of the ones my baby played. “Man, the streets are so packed that our car had to drop us off a mile away from the hotel because we couldn’t get any closer. It’s insane. We’re walking back now.”

  “Oh, that’s what all that noise is.”

  “Yeah, the sidewalks are full of people. Everyone is discussing that good-ass game.”

  “I guess your team won.”

  He laughed again. “Your team won, too. Houston had two players on the team this year.”

  I shrugged, though he couldn’t see me. “Oh. Well, good for them.”

  This time his laugh was heartily amused, stirring up a heaviness in my belly. I liked this sound. It was a guttural, carefree thing that bubbled up out of him and wafted over me.

  “Okay, I see you aren’t a basketball fan. Tell me something else about yourself.”

  I shifted, pulling my comforter up and tucking it under my chin. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. What’s your favorite season?”

  “Well, we don’t really get seasons in Houston anymore. We used to have everything but winter; now we get summer, diet summer, black ice, and summer with rain. If I had to choose from those four, I’d pick…summer with rain. Even though it’s humid as hell and screws up any hairstyle I call myself trying to rock—except braids, of course—at least the ten minutes or ten days of rain bring some kind of relief. Until it starts to flo
od then it’s the end-of-days, and the whole city goes into a panicked rescue mode. Which, in their defense, is warranted because the flooding gets so, so bad. Like, cars-under-water-and-boats-are-the-only-transportation-that-matter bad. But summer with rain is the lesser of four evils, I think.”

  His laughter brought a smile to my face, and I just knew my teeth were gleaming in the darkness of my bedroom.

  “Are your only siblings the two sisters I met?”

  “Yep. It’s just me and my woes. Established in nineteen-eighty-something or other.”

  “Something or other?”

  “Mmhm. Those heifers act really funny about their age, so I just say something or other so I don’t have to hear their mouths. Let Toy tell it and she’s a damn nineties baby. Ol’ lyin’ ass.”

  The sounds of cars and loud talking around Jereth suddenly died out, and I heard a clear, authoritative voice welcome him to his hotel. Jereth asked me to hold while he thanked the man.

  “How old are they?”

  I heard the ding of an elevator opening and expected him to put me on hold again but he didn’t. “We’re all two years apart. Toy is twenty-nine and Tasha is twenty-seven.”

  “That’s kind of like me and my brothers. J is two years older than me, but I’m only a year older than my baby brother.”

  My eyes watered as I attempted to suppress a yawn. It was well after one o’clock in the morning, and I had to be at the shop in less than five hours. The smart thing to do would be to get off of the phone, but my actions over the weekend had already proven me to be a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

  “It’s a good age gap for when kids are babies. I wish I had been able to have a second one when Wisdom was around two.”

  There was a pause then, “You want more children?”

  “Nope. No sir. Not at all. I wanted another one many years ago, but that was because I didn’t want my baby to be an only child. That ship has sailed now, at least on my end. I have no doubt that his father’s girlfriend will try to squeeze out at least one child, if not to lock Evan down for an extra eighteen years at least.” I chuckled at the thought, but my words were becoming airy and slurred as I floated toward unconsciousness.