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To Break a Vow

Page 17

by Chencia C. Higgins


  He stroked his fingers along his bearded jaw before sipping from his large raspberry mocha. That thick-ass tongue skimmed his top lip and I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. The perverse size of it turned my stomach. How could he breathe with that big-ass thing blocking his esophagus?

  “All I’m saying is that I haven’t seen that bald dude around in a few months. That was your man, right?”

  That bald dude. Hell, I hadn’t seen him in a few months either. I nodded, lips pursing at his emphasis on the past tense of is.

  “Well, since he’s not here, I’m assuming y’all broke up. I just wanna throw my hat in the ring, that’s all.”

  I could have laughed at that. There was no ring to toss his hat in, and although I could admit that he was good-looking, in no way was I interested in Angelo. I thought he understood that; yet, here he was, pushing up on me again. It was more than a little annoying, but then again, going out with him would be a nice distraction from the constant highlight reel of where I’d gone wrong with Jereth.

  “Okay.”

  His eyes widened and lips parted slightly. “For real?” He sounded surprised as if he hadn’t expected me to say yes, even though he was damn near beating me over the head with his elevator pitch.

  “Yeah. Let’s do something tonight.”

  A slow grin stretched across his face as his eyes lit up. “Yeah, lets.”

  ♥♥♥♥

  When Your Life Choices Lead You To Bad Head

  Fuck.

  Fuckfuckfuck!

  That was the wrong fucking decision to make. Oh my god, what was wrong with me? I didn’t need a distraction, I needed a damn nap and maybe some ice cream and my collection of tear-jerking Bollywood films to focus on.

  Saying yes to Angelo was an idiotic move and an insufferable one at that. Never in my life had I ever received head that was so whack that it made me yawn. I mean, the shit was just so boring that I started thinking about the laundry I needed to do and whether or not my sisters would meet me at a bar later that night for drinks that I desperately needed so that I could get good and drunk while I told them all about the entire two hours I wasted giving a chance to a nigga who I knew didn’t deserve it. It was a real travesty, but in all honesty, I knew something wasn’t right about his tongue.

  I’d met Angelo around seven that night at Quik Stix, a local pool hall, and it only took two fifteen-minute games of me whooping his ass for him to whisper in my ear that we should go somewhere more private so we could “be alone”. All sorts of warnings alarms and bells and sirens and buzzers were ring-a-linging in my head, but I was determined to ignore them and have a decent—if not good—time. My son was with his daddy, my sisters were off who knows where without me, being grown, and I was sad and lonely. Those three occurrences were a deadly combination and little did Angelo know, he was my victim tonight. Or so I thought.

  We arrived at his duplex on the east end of downtown, and he pulled into the one-car garage while directing me to park in the driveway. He waited at the front door for me to get out of the car and placed a hand at the small of my back to guide me inside where he offered me a drink once we settled on the couch in the tiny living room. I should have said no since I’d had a frozen margarita at Quik Stix, but I nodded with a “Yes, please” and visibly relaxed when he walked over to a mobile bar in the corner of the room instead of disappearing into the kitchen. I downed half the drink in one gulp while his fingers skittered up my exposed leg and danced around my knee, causing me to shudder. What he might have thought was a pleasant reaction to his touch was really me trying not to jerk away from fingers that weren’t long and thin and adorned with rings.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured distractedly, and I looked at him to see his eyes on my cleavage. The low cut top of the sundress I’d chosen for tonight was doing a damn good job of displaying my twins.

  A smirk flirted at the corner of my mouth. “Thanks.”

  His eyes lifted to my face, and there was entirely too much emotion in those golden brown depths for my liking. Lust and longing and want. I wanted to run screaming from the building, but I didn’t. I came all this way; I was going to finish what I started. Lurching forward, I crashed my lips into his, snaking my tongue into his mouth, which tasted of wheat from the beer he’d had at Quik Stix. The moment he dove all-in to the kiss and touched his tongue to mine, I dry heaved and had to sit back, quickly breaking the brief interlude. He looked dazed, but I was the one confused.

  It wasn’t a bad kiss. On the contrary, Angelo was probably a very good kisser, but the problem was with me. Actually, the problem was Angelo in that he was him and not Jereth.

  That shit was for the birds.

  Sliding my hand up his thigh, I squeezed and gave him an indulgent smile.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “In the back.”

  He adjusted his dick in his pants before standing and offering me his hand—which I took as soon as I toed off my sandals—and leading me through a doorway and down a narrow hall to a decent-sized bedroom that held a queen bed and a chest of drawers. The room was clean and the bed was made, so I had no complaints. Dropping his hand, I bent over and slid my panties down my thighs before sitting on the edge of the bed and spreading my legs.

  “Didn’t you say something about sucking the soul out of my pussy?”

  If my life were a movie, this is when the frame would freeze momentarily before everything would begin to reverse comically until I was back at Black Coffee with a broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other. That’s when I would suddenly stop speaking mid-sentence and shake my head while blinking to clear away the fog of confusion. Then I would decline whatever Angelo was offering and tell him to have a good day as I walked away.

  But my life wasn’t a movie; it wasn’t even a ten-episode, prime-time TV show. That’s why instead of being rolled up like a burrito in a blanket on the sofa in the upstairs game room devouring butter pecan ice cream out of a pint that I bought on my way home from the corner store outside of my neighborhood, I was on my back with my eyes on the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom and my legs propped open while Angelo drug his tongue back and forth along my slit like a dog trying to keep a bone from being ripped out of its mouth.

  Didn’t I say this shit was for the birds? I might as well change my name to Woody Woodpecker because I currently had a half-naked nigga, neck-deep in my pussy, giving me head so pathetically that it made me question the entire trajectory of my life. I was mentally cataloging every decision I had made in my thirty-two years of life that had led me to telling Angelo he could finally chew on my bubblegum. It only took me three minutes, but I was able to pinpoint the exact moment that brought me here.

  And all it did was piss me off.

  Digging my heels into the mattress, I curved my hips up and scooted back. Angelo didn’t even attempt to tighten the already loose grip he had on my thighs. An annoyed sigh threatened to escape my mouth but honestly, I had no one to be mad at but myself.

  “Did you come?”

  It took every ounce of self-discipline not to roll my eyes at his stupidly unnecessary question. Instead, I used the sheet to wipe between my legs. This fool had the crack of my ass cheeks wet—and not in a good way.

  “Nah.”

  Eyes still on my exposed center, he muttered, “Damn.”

  “Mmm.” Climbing off the bed, I let the skirt of my sundress cover me as it swished around my knees as I left the room.

  My purse and shoes were in the living room and Lord only knew where my panties had disappeared to. I was sitting on the couch, bent over, as I strapped up my sandals when Angelo finally came from the back. He’d cleaned his face from what had definitely contained more his own saliva than my juices as he leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his chest. I think he was trying to appear unaffected, but I could tell from the tightness around his eyes that he was pissed. Too bad for him I didn’t give a shit.

  “So, you’re just going to leave?�
��

  I nodded, finishing the clasp on my other shoe.

  “Without saying anything?”

  I looked up at him. “I wouldn’t do that. I was going to say something before I left, at least.”

  He eyed me suspiciously, and I couldn’t blame him. “What were you going to say?”

  This time, I did roll my eyes as I smirked. “Bye, Angelo.”

  His jaw clenched. “After all of that? That’s all I get? That’s fucked up.”

  I stood, brushing invisible wrinkles from my waist and walked toward him. “All of what?”

  “Shiiiit, all that mouth I just gave you. You stopped me before I could make you come, but I thought we were ‘gon fuck or something.”

  When I was in front of him and less than a foot separated us, I fisted my hands on my hips. “Who are you lying to, Angelo? You weren’t trying to fuck. Not with that lazy-ass head you just gave me.”

  Finally, his expression cracked, and I saw some honest emotion from him. His eyes flashed and his cheeks warmed, but whether from embarrassment or anger, I couldn’t tell.

  “How you ‘gon bring your ass into my house and tell me I wasn’t trying to fuck? What the hell did you think I brought you here for? It sure as hell wasn’t to play Uno.”

  I closed the distance between us, pressing my body flush against his and reaching down to cup him over the cotton joggers he’d pulled on over his boxers. Instantly, all pretenses dissolved, and his hard eyes left mine to focus on a spot behind me. He didn’t say a word, and I rubbed the heavy, yet squishy, flesh for a second before nodding and stepping back.

  That’s what the fuck I thought.

  “Come on, Angelo. I know you not out here fucking hoes with a soft dick. Just be real; I’m grown; I can handle the truth.”

  He groaned and the sound was a mix of annoyance and frustration. “Man, Tonya, I’ve been begging you to let me show you something for years, but you always shot me down. It got to the point where I got used to you saying no but kept asking because it was our thing. I thought you knew that. You’re the one who switched up and finally said yes.” He met my gaze, his dark brown eyes completely honest, a smidgen regretful and a pinch nervous. “I didn’t realize that I wasn’t feeling you anymore until it was too late to turn back.”

  Well…that was…unexpected. But also, I got it. I’d felt the same way long before it was too late but still, he was right, though. Angelo had been asking to blow on my box since the day I’d met him, and I’d been telling him to eat a dick for just as long. Those had been our rules of engagement when dealing with each other. I was the one who’d flipped the script. I’d put myself in this fucked up situation, and all I could do was shake my head.

  Angelo eyed me. “How did you know?”

  I shrugged. I might have told him to be honest with me, but I wasn’t about to tell him how I knew he wasn’t feeling it even though he had his tongue inside of me. Nah, I’d keep that information to myself.

  “I don’t know; I just felt it.”

  And he nodded, accepting that answer without hesitation. I didn’t feel bad. It was probably better that I didn’t tell him anyway. Surely he didn’t want to hear that I was clued in to the way he flopped his tongue out on me and panted like a hot, exhausted dog. There was a difference between being ate and being drooled on, but that was information for me and my sisters to discuss later. When he smiled at me, putting those pearly whites and high cheekbones on display, I easily saw how so many women were able to fall over themselves to get his attention. I would never deny that Angelo was handsome. He absolutely was. Gorgeous caramel skin wrapped around a toned, six-foot frame? Hell yes. His looks weren’t the problem.

  Simply put, he wasn’t meant for me.

  “We good?” His arms spread open, and I stepped into them, resting my head on his chest as he wrapped me up in a bear hug, holding me tightly in a way that I might have had a harder time walking away from if he had done it twenty minutes earlier.

  “Of course.”

  When he released me, he grabbed my hand and walked me out to the car.

  “Damn, you putting me out?” My voice was teasing, some of my humor returning now that I didn’t have to pretend to want this. Want him.

  He took my keys out of my hand and opened my door but stood in front of it so I couldn’t get in the car. “You ‘gon let me get in them guts?”

  My head fell back between my shoulders, and I was sure he could see my tonsils when I laughed at that. “Nigga, please. I just let you try to spell your name against my clit and it turns out that your fine ass is illiterate!”

  “Daaaaaamn! Get your mean ass in this car and get ‘gon!” He moved out of the way and let me climb inside the car.

  I giggled, snapping my seat belt and starting the engine. I rolled down the window as I backed out of the driveway. “Bye, Angelo!”

  He gave me the finger with one hand and waved with the other.

  I shook my head in amusement. That had gone better than expected. Angelo was a good dude. Just not the dude for me. He probably wasn’t the dude for any one woman, actually, but that wasn’t any of my concern. The only thing I was concerned about was my shitty life choices and the one reason I was driving with a wet, unsatisfied, uncovered pussy to my empty bedroom and cold bed. If I knew nothing, I knew one thing.

  I hated Jereth Hawkins with the passion of one thousand sea sirens.

  ♥♥♥♥

  When They're Supposed To Be On Your Side But Your Sisters Ain't Shit

  It was three-thirty in the morning when I heard the jingle of the bell that hung above the front door. The shop didn’t open for another half hour, and Mama and Daddy stopped coming in so early when my sisters and I took over. That left one other person with a key to the store.

  “Tasha! Hurry up and come hear the shit that happened to TT last night!”

  I looked up from the freshly ground coffee beans I slid into the brewer and mugged my sister.

  “Damn, Toy. You couldn’t even wait until she got in the store good?”

  She shook her head as she arranged the trays of homemade pastries in the refrigerated display case. “Hell no. I need her to come laugh with me.”

  I sucked my teeth, turning to grind another batch of beans while muttering, “And they say that I’m the mean one.”

  My baby sister, the certified “sweetest” of us all, came around the long counter that separated the heart of our family coffee shop and cafe from the tables and chairs that spent the day filled with customers. She tossed her backpack by the register and grabbed a muffin off the tray in Toy’s hands after a brief sidelong hug.

  “You most definitely are ‘the mean one’.” The sting of her words was softened by the crumb-filled kiss she pressed to my cheek. “We still love you, though.” She looked back and forth between me and Toy. “So, what’s the tea?”

  I turned my back on both of them, choosing to start brewing the teas for the iced tea drinks instead of being a part of this conversation.

  “Well,” began Toy, “Little Miss Hot-In-The-Ass over here finally took Angelo up on his offer of cunnilingus, and he turned out to be a drooler.”

  Glad to be facing away from them, I rolled my eyes at the glee in Toy’s voice.

  “You slept with Angelo? TT, no!”

  The disappointment in Tasha’s voice was a clear as glass. I side-eyed her.

  “Seriously, Tasha? You’re judging me?”

  She nodded. “Hell yeah, I’m judging you! You went out with a man and had intentions of sleeping with him, all the while you have a whole, entire husband. You bet your ass I’m judging you.”

  “Why do I have to suffer while Jereth is off who-knows-where fucking who-knows-who?”

  “Oh, there she is. I was wondering where Dramatic TT had gone.”

  Throwing my hands up in the air, I glared at my sisters. “My husband abandons me, and I’m the dramatic one? Spousal abandonment is grounds for a divorce, you know!”

  Tasha gave me a bland lo
ok. “First of all, for spousal abandonment to apply, a year has to pass, at least. It’s only been three months, so chill. Second of all, Jereth didn’t abandon you, sweetie. You tried to kick him out and he left to give you room to think about the error of your ways. Which, instead of seeing any errors you decided to double down and literally block him out of your life. Third, how are you suffering? You still have a loving family, a job you love, and plenty of money in the bank. In fact, you have more money than usual because Jereth is still paying all of the bills at the house, including the mortgage—which I greatly appreciate, by the way.”

  I huffed out an annoyed breath. Who’s side was she on, here? “Money isn’t everything, Tasha. The lack of sex is killing me!”

  Toy snorted. “Girl, please; you went like seven years without it before you met him. Three months wasn’t even close to killing you. And didn’t y’all have phone sex after he was gone for a week? I’m pretty sure that counts.”

  They laughed at me. The both of them, just yukking it up at my expense, like the man that I loved deciding he didn’t want to be with me anymore was just as simple and innocuous as getting whipped cream on your nose when you drank your hot chocolate. And wasn’t that just—

  My thoughts stuttered as I replayed what I’d just admitted—if only to myself. How inconvenient it was to realize the complete depth of my feelings after already filing for a divorce. Not that it would have made a difference, since love was an action word, and Jereth hadn’t shown it to me in the ways that I felt were important.

  “You know what? Y’all can kiss my ass. The dark part. That crease right between the cheek and thigh.” I slapped my ass for emphasis.

  Tasha cringed, no doubt envisioning the image I’d just created, and Tonya pretended to gag. “Ew. No thanks. I’ll leave that to Jereth.”

  There was no way to contain the growl that bubbled out of my throat at her quip. “That’s the fucking point! There is no ‘leaving things to Jereth’! Jereth isn’t here! He left me. He left me and took with him all of the bullshit, along with his supreme peen, meticulous housekeeping skills, and all-encompassing affection with him! Now, I’m alone again with nothing to show for it but a bougie vagina.”

 

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