by Amy Brent
Both men stopped in their tracks, neither wanting to move. “Well the bastard isn’t mine, I haven’t touched her in months.” Brad let her go then and she moved away from him.
Jessie was still looking at her, surprise on his face. She knew he had a lot of questions, most of which she would answer later.
“You know what Jessie; you can have her. She can never quite seem to get herself together. No matter what I do she won’t lose weight or give a shit about me.” He started to leave.
“You were lucky to have me Brad.” She didn’t turn or say another word instead she left into the night to find her car.
The police were there suddenly, easily placing the blame on Jessie. They cuffed him, and took him. Throwing him into a car as he was violently cursing about everything under the sun. She knew he had done nothing wrong, and he would be out in no time.
“Lynne, go make sure everything is fine.” He glanced down at her stomach and back up to meet her eyes. She never responded, she had chance to as they started asking her questions. It was the least she could do for him. She looked over, not surprised to see Brad laughing with one of the officers.
For now, she just wanted to go home. She moved shakily taking a step away from him, and closer to her car… and freedom.
Jessie
He was in a damn cop car. Of all places he had vowed to never find himself back in one of those. He kicked at the seat in front of him, furious. She was pregnant, and he knew it was his. They had spent too much time… He swore under his breath. Somewhere along the way he had fallen in love with her, and he had been a coward to never tell her before now. He had stood there while she sat alone and that alone killed him. He had learned more about himself over the last two months than he had in a lifetime of partying and vengeance.
He spoke to the judge, biding his time until he could go. He knew she would likely leave and he would then be forced to follow her until he figured out where she had gone. If he could just see her he could tell her how he really felt.
When the morning finally came he was out of the building like a light. He slipped into the cab that was waiting for him and went straight to her apartment. He knew she was gone, he felt it before he even knocked but he had to try. She was gone, and with her was his son or daughter. He sighed, he had resources, he had more money than he knew what to do with after all. He would find her just as soon as she settled somewhere. He hated the idea of her being alone, especially when she could be there with him.
Slowly he made his way down the apartment stairs. He wanted to make things right, he wanted her! He realized he had no car and would need to call for one, but for the moment he wanted to walk, to clear his head. He rounded the corner of the small strip mall by her complex. He never really paid much attention to what was there, always passing it by as he’d made his way to her. He looked up and smiled as he passed a bakery. She loved bread, and he hated how she starved herself in the beginning. He loved her now, healthy and beautiful.
He heard the tinkle of laughter in the store. He followed it, hoping to make what he wanted a reality. He saw her there, laughing nervously as the man behind the counter turned over a chunk to her. She was so beautiful it almost hurt him to look at her. He waited, knowing she would come out soon. When she did he watched her pause, waiting for him to say something.
“Wait… before you say anything please let me explain.” He jumped in first.
“Rachel was my friend; a neighbor I grew up with. Brad dated her for a year or so and when he was done he hurt her, badly. She never would tell me what he did but she was horribly depressed after that. I beat the shit out of him for hurting her that way and I did vow to take a girl from him. But the truth is I’ve done that 100’s of times. You are different, and you have been from the moment we first had lunch. I love you Lynne, I have for a long time and I want you to stay… to be with me and let me love you.”
She waited as he spoke and he noticed the tears flowing freely down her face.
“I’m so emotional all the time.” She wailed, but she nodded at him nonetheless and he wrapped her up in his arms.
“You make me a better person Lynne, you make me want to fix the past and focus on the future.” He whispered against her hair.
“I love you Jessie, and I want to be with you too but there I one problem.” She gazed up into his handsome face.
“What’s that?” He frowned.
“I’m going to eat a lot of bread with this pregnancy.” She smiled and he laughed loudly before pressing his lips against hers once more.
SUPER HOT! SUPER PASSIONATE! SUPER FORBIDDEN – SPORTS ROMANCE
HIS RELUCTANT BRIDE
The Treasure Box
I was making a quick dish for dinner, when the phone started to ring with such rage, that I almost dropped the pan. Nowadays every ringing startles me, because bad news often comes by calls.
But it was just my best friend, Maggie.
‘Hello Susan, I got your message. Is Ben at home?’
‘No, but he’s supposed to be here by now.’ And I looked at the clock with an anxious suspense. ‘His teacher called me today about the twins beating him up again during the break, and all the three of them ended up in the principal’s office. Do you remember that monstrous girl, who use to bully us at school? It still gives me nightmares, how defenseless we were against that mockingbird. I won’t let this happen to my eight year old son.’
Ben was soon going to be eight, yes!
Maggie sighed on the other side of the phone. As a mother of two she understood my worries. ‘Susan, you know how kids are; they attack you right at your weak spot. This prevents them from being on the other side of the cohesion.’
‘Yes, it’s better to bully than to be bullied. Still, I don’t understand how the teachers can let a recently orphaned child to be terrorized. I thought their job is more than giving lectures on numbers and novels. They should be the guardians of the children, to teach them morals when they step over the line.’
‘And what are you going to do about this? Excuses are not good enough, Susan. You must stand your ground as a mother, even if your husband is not there for you.’
‘Yes, I know it well. In the last six months, since David died, I have only gotten stronger. Becoming a widow at thirty five is certainly a life lesson. For now I’ll comfort Ben as much as I can, and as for the bullying twins… Well, they have begun messing around with the wrong kid, because this one has an enraged mommy-lion by his side, and she’s not afraid to roar.’
The steam pirouetted over the pan when my son, Ben opened the door and the draft rushed through the kitchen.
‘I must go now, Maggie. Baby lion is in the house.’
‘All right! Tomorrow at lunch break?’
‘Certainly.’
Ben dropped his school bag on the floor, and sat by the kitchen table.
‘What’s for dinner?’
‘Hello to you, too! How was school?’
‘A little worse than the all-time low.’ He said, with a sad smile. I had goosebumps hearing Ben quoting his father’s favorite saying. Although I already knew today’s news, I wanted him to tell me in details.
‘What’s with your face?’
‘It’s my first black-eye! I’m a man now.’
‘And who helped you become a man by bunging up your eye?’
‘The redhead twins from the senior classes, you know. But don’t you worry; I made sure that their karma got them. I pounded my chest and shouted, as I saw it on Godzilla. I was very frightful, and they backed off, until one of them fell on their asses, and everybody laughed.’
I imagined this scene, as my son is trying to defend himself with play pretends. I saw him in action: last month he was roaring to everyone as a lion; last week he was as a dragon, spitting fire lava to every shop assistant, and a few days ago he pretended that he is a rhino, banging on the ground with feet, when he got scared by a ton-up driver.
‘Does it hurt?’
He shook his head
and said nothing. I hugged him and tears rolled down my face. There was a blood stain on his nose, and still, he didn’t complain, and he’d almost never cried. He is a very strong boy.
Of course I was enraged. I was enraged to these cruel twins, to their irresponsible foster parents and to the negligent teachers. I wanted revenge, but revenge only eases the pain, it’s never a solution. And it’s certainly not an example I wanted to set for my eight years old son.
‘Ben, believe me, these boys will get what they deserve. But you must me tired, come on, go and have a shower while I finish the stir fries.’
‘Stir fried veggies, not again!’
‘I don’t hear the water flowing!’
He murmured like a grumpy old man, but soon I heard the tap creak. I took the food from the stove, and was about laying the table, when I heard Ben screaming.
‘Mommy, mommy, dirt is flooding the bath.’
I rushed to the bathroom. He was jumping up and down, naked, as the washing machine’s tube was spitting used water like a crazy cobra. I turned off the machine, but by then we were already standing in the middle of a huge puddle.
‘Yeah, I forgot to put it to its place, sorry.’ I answered, covering him with a towel.
It was hard to admit, but since David’s death, I had become a little inattentive to domestic details. I was emotionally drained, and it seemed impossible to focus. The washing machine was just one incident, but there was that broken window, the lost ladder, the chicken which burnt into coal – oh….I could continue the list.
‘Mommy…’
‘Yes, my dear.’
‘Stir fired veggies will be fine,’ Ben said with a wide smile, and ran into his room, wore his towel as a superhero’s cape.
The water was slowly flowing towards the boxes stored in the corridor. Nobody touched these boxes, since David died. His business documents were stuffed inside, the accountant promised to pick them up on day. Since they can be important, and started to save them. I mopped the floor, and put the boxes to safe distance. There was a carved, wooden box, which really stood out. I couldn’t recall when we had bought this. It seemed... as if it didn’t belong there, or at least I’d never noticed it before. I picked it up and tried to open it, but it was closed with a lock. I had no idea where were the keys for it, so I decided to search for a tool in David’s shed to open it. I wanted to know, what was hiding in that treasure box.
Every Obstacle Is a Puzzle
So I went out to the shed where David kept his tools. As I passed through the garden, a memory flashed in my mind. When Ben was a baby, I would rock him for hours every day in my arms under that huge Jujube tree, while David drilled and welded, always covered in a coat of dust, and he whistled tunes from the radio. The memory was heart-warming, but all of it seemed so very distant.
I remembered one day when Ben was fast asleep, and I lost in my thoughts, how David caught me unawares. I had been so busy with my job and Ben, that it had been over two months since we had made love.
‘May I…,’ he whispered as he drew his face close to mine and began to tease me with his lips. He got his mouth closer to mine and then almost instinctively pulled back.
I leaned and grabbed his mouth – gosh! I had been craving for this for around two months now!
Our lips parted and I said ‘Kiss me’
‘I will,’ he whispered and held me from my waist, as he hurriedly pressed open his mouth to mine. He needed me! His tongue explored every portion of my mouth, twirling inside slowly, but deeply.
I moaned in pleasure, trying to unbutton his shirt. He pushed me on the bed and I noticed Ben moving in the cot.
‘Hey, let’s slow down…’ I said, pointing towards Ben.
‘Let’s move to the living room,’ he was considerate as he lifted me in his strong arms and took me to the living room. He placed me on the sofa and began to softly caress my milky white legs, underneath my red satin night gown. He lips glided from my legs to my thighs, his tongue kissed every little area there, as his hands were busy comforting my breasts. He was so much in love with my big, curvaceous body. In fact, he was the one who helped me regain my lost confidence (I suffered from weight issues and David always had a way to tell me how much he loved my weight). I unbuttoned his shirt and moved my hands over his erection. He helped me unzip his pants and slowly took off my lacy red panties.
‘OMG, I need you so much…,’ he groaned as he pushed his erection against my pelvis. He was still in his underwear.
‘I need you too…,’ I mumbled as my hands moved towards his black undies.
His hands fiddled with my lacy red bra.
‘Beautiful…,’ he said as he looked at my erect nipples. His mouth moved towards my breasts now and he was licking and sucking them fiercely. His tongue caressed the outline of my nipples and his hands pressed my breasts hard. It seemed as if he had just been rewarded with his favorite toy. He was passionate, rough and gentle – all at the same time.
‘I love playing with these…’ He sucked my hard nipples.
‘Please…. I need your hand there…,’ I directed his hand towards my clitoris.
His fingers provided the much needed attention to my sweet spot and he began to rub it slowly. His hand was wet with my juices as he moved his little finger into my clitoris and began stimulating my G-spot.
‘Please….take me…I beg you,’ I pleaded as he played with my sweet spot and sucked my nipples at the same time.
My hips were moving frantically and I was holding and rubbing his hard member.
Slowly, he spread my legs, kissed my sweet spot and entered me…..deeply.
How I had waited for this moment!
‘You are still so tight, my dear…,’ he said as he adjusted himself and began to move his pelvis.
I was loving every bit of it…
‘More….please…deeper….yes…harder…ooooooo….more…..yes….please…David…,’ I was at a different level.
‘Yeah baby….I love you…’
‘I love you too…’
‘Mom….,’ I was brought back to reality by Ben’s screaming.
As David was the handy man, I had never hammered a nail. I had no clue, what were they called, nor their function. Which one was supposed to open a locked box? Of course, I couldn’t ask him to help me. In fact, I had mixed feelings, whether I had the right to open my departed husband’s mysterious treasure box.
I felt very tired. First Ben’s fight at school, then the flooded bathroom, and now this mysterious box with the missing keys… My day seemed like a mountain of difficulties, but I remembered my mom’s saying: every obstacle is a puzzle, and puzzles are matching parts longing for reunion. So if that’s the case, I just needed to be creative here and follow logic.
Okay, screwdrivers may not be my weapon of choice, but then it’s time to try something new. I went back to the house, turned on the computer, and searched for videos. I typed in ‘How to pick a lock’, and the rest of it was easy.
It was 4 a.m., crack of dawn, when the lock finally gave in. I was shivering and sweat rolled down my temples, my nightgown wet like a sponge. Picking a lock with a hairpin was not as easy as it seemed. But I couldn’t care less. I was eager to know, what was in the box. Wild ideas popped up in my mind. What if there was a gun inside? Or an ancient vellum?
I opened the box. There was money on the top. Not just coins but a real fortune. Now it made sense why we were always short on money or why he resisted handling our family budget. But why did he save up all this money? Since he kept this box as a secret, he had no intentions to share this.
I lifted the cash and under it there was a crumpled, yellow envelope. Open or don’t open? That was the question. It seemed like awfully wrong to investigate my husband’s past, but the temptation was even bigger to get to know. Who was he saving this money for?
As I took out a piece of paper from the envelope, my hands were shaking. When I unfolded it, I saw a poem on it, weirdly enough, it was his handwriting. Alt
hough he rarely wrote anything, I had no doubt about that. I quickly read through the lines, my heart was pounding in my chest. It was a love poem with many verses. It started like this.
Tongued tied, but silence gives consent.
I won’t write to you, but I know the torment
Of the unsaid words. Deafening, mute cry.
You are a sorrow-stricken, distant child. Why?
Don’t ask me, but hide your pain and survive.
It was not a good poem, but definitely David’s style. I stared at his shaky, clumsy letters as they formed a woman’s name I’ve never heard before. Jealousy and anger fueled my anger, I checked the envelope if it contained anything else. And it did. It was a woman’s photograph. Her arms were around my husband’s neck. They were smiling happily, cheek to cheek, seemed to be in love.
I dropped the picture. As it fell down, a date on the back caught my eye. According to that, we’d been married for three years, when this photo was taken.
Love Comes In Many Shapes
After I found out about the mystery woman, I looked through all our family photos to see if she was hiding somewhere in the background. It was a tough journey on the memory lane, especially when I got to the pictures of our wedding. I remembered how apprehensive I was when David had proposed marriage. I had told him that I wanted time to think and he had mentioned that he was ready to wait. I had said ‘yes’ to him after seven months!
David wasn’t my type; he was short but muscular, he had wide eyes and small lips, and not to mention, he was ten years older to me. He seemed to be much more experienced. Plus he was white! I was always referred to in high school as the big, beautiful, black woman.
‘It would be such a contrast.’ I had thought!
On my wedding day I wore an amazing chiffon gown with rich golden embroidery, and felt like a million dollars. The strongest feeling which comes with the memory is confusion, since I like the ritual, but I was still not sure if I loved David. I guess, I never really loved him. It was more of a respect and admiration. I think I said ‘yes’ not because I loved him but because he waited, insisted and pursued. Did I fall into a trap?