“I hate to belabor the point, Jill, but if you think Darren will have a problem with your status and your success, and then you should walk away before it becomes an issue.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be lied to and hurt the way David did me.”
Shari folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, no? Try this on for size. The man I thought was the one true love of my life did lie to me. He cheated on me and produced a son.”
“Malik has a son?”
Shari shook her head. “My high school sweetheart and I were engaged right before we went off to college. He was killed the night he was driving to Atlanta to tell me about his one night stand and the baby that was on the way.”
“Oh my God. When did you find out?”
“Years later, as a matter of fact, right after I met you. In my head, Tyrell was the perfect man and I never thought I would find someone I’d love the way I loved him. Then to find out that he lied to me, cheated on me…I was hurt beyond words. But I put it behind me and if I hadn’t done that, Malik and I wouldn’t be together now.”
“I had no idea.”
She waved her hands. “It’s not something I talk about a lot. I’m over it, but that first heartbreak takes time to put behind you. The point is, in order to move forward, that’s what you have to do, put the past behind you.”
Jill nodded as she picked up a package of chicken legs.
“Uh, what’s that?” Shari asked.
“Chicken.”
“Is this man anorexic or something? You need to get a whole fryer.” Shari pointed to what Jill thought looked like a flesh covered bowling ball.
“And what am I supposed to do with this?”
Shari shook her head. “Cut it up, season it, batter it and fry it.”
“Chicken comes cut up, right?”
“Trust me, this will taste better. How in the world did you get roped into cooking dinner?”
“Open mouth and insert foot. I did this to myself.”
Shaking her head, Shari said, “You’ve become skilled at telling tall tales.”
Jill dropped two bricks of cheese in the cart. “Sounds like the beginning of a lecture and I don’t want to hear it.”
Shari threw her hands up. “You’re going to need more cheese than that. One last thing, and I’m going to leave it alone. David might be a problem for you and your little ruse. New magazines go out to a lot of people and I’m sure he’ll do a story on you with or without your consent.”
“That weasel probably will. I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I get to it,” she said. “But I will not let David dictate how I live my life.”
After they finished shopping, Jill and Shari headed back to the penthouse to prepare the dinner.
Maybe over this dinner I should come clean, Jill thought as the doorman unloaded her packages. That’s what I’ll do.
* * *
When Darren’s phone rang around ten-thirty Saturday night, he wished it were Jill. He wanted her to come back and spend the night in his arms. Her scent lingered in his house, adding to his longing for her touch, the feel of her breasts against his chest and the warm wetness of her closed around his manhood. The desire he felt for her was like nothing he’d ever experienced.
“Hello,” Darren said in his sexiest imitation of Barry White.
“This isn’t Jill, so you don’t have to try and sound like a quiet storm DJ for me,” his mother said.
“Hey Ma, what are you doing up so late?”
“Well, you and Jill got away so fast after lunch that I didn’t get a chance to talk to you guys.”
Darren leaned back in his recliner; he knew this was going to be a long conversation. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I like her. She seems nice and I can see that she makes you happy,” Margaret said. “All I want is for you to be happy. Jill might be good for you.”
“Might be?”
“You never know what will happen, but so far, so good. Besides, she has a good family. That Rita came from bad people. What kind of mother would help her daughter lie to her husband about killing a baby?”
“Please, I don’t want to think about that.” Every time Darren thought about receiving that letter and learning the truth about Rita’s pregnancy, he cringed. He’d never told his mother that the child she mourned wasn’t her grandchild. He didn’t want her to go off the deep end about what kind of whore Rita really was. His mother would use that exact term.
“Are you sure you’re over that? I know you’re a grown man and you don’t have to run to your mother about your problems, but you never talked about your divorce or the fact that she robbed you of your chance at fatherhood.”
“That’s because what’s done is done. Talking about it isn’t going to change the fact that Rita was a liar and I never should have married her.”
“Holding that in isn’t helping, though.”
“Ma, it’s been five years. I haven’t seen Rita and I hope to God that I never see that woman again.”
Margaret sighed. “Am I meddling?”
“Bordering on it.”
“Well, I’m a mother and that’s what we do. When you have children, you’ll understand that. And I know your brother thinks I’m going to drive him crazy while he rehabs, but I’m not. I love you boys so much. Every time I look at the both of you, I see so much of Walter. Especially with your hard headed brother. Walter really put his shine on Cleveland.”
Darren stifled a laugh. She had already driven him to the edge of crazy but he would never tell her that. “You know we love you, too.”
“You’d better. I worry about you and Cleveland. I never wanted you two to become firefighters, not after what happened to your father. You would think that one of you would have rebelled and become a school teacher or something. I was so scared when you called me and told me about Cleveland’s accident.” Margaret’s voice dropped to a whisper. “All I could think about was the day I got the call about your father.”
“Ma,” Darren cooed. “We’re going to be fine. Cleveland and I are going to stick around and give you a couple of grandkids to spoil.”
“You think Jill would give you a child? Or is she one of those ‘I’m climbing the corporate ladder’ type of women? Can she cook?”
Darren laughed. “I’ll find out tomorrow. We’re watching the game together.”
“After you and Cleveland go to church with me first, right?” It wasn’t really a question; it was more like a statement.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, go to sleep and meet us at Voices of Faith for the eight a.m. service. I know how you two do during football season.”
“I love you, Ma.”
“I love you too.”
Darren hung up the phone, happy that his mother had admitted she liked Jill. Not that it mattered what she thought, but Darren felt as if his relationship with Jill was going to grow and flourish.
Why wouldn’t it? Jill was the kind of woman that Darren would like to see standing at the altar in front of a pastor declaring her love for him before God and witnesses. Still, there was something Jill was holding back from him. He knew in his heart that she didn’t totally trust him with some aspects of her life.
But after sharing her body with him, he knew things would change. It would take time for Jill to trust him. Whoever hurt her had done a number on her heart, but Darren was going to heal her and show her how much she deserved to be loved and how much he could love her.
He picked the phone up and called her despite the lateness.
“Hello?”
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, you didn’t,” Jill said. Darren visualized her standing there smiling. He could hear it in her voice.
“I was thinking about you and I had to hear your voice before I went to bed.”
“I wanted to call you, but I had to get everything for dinner tomorrow.”
“Oh, that I am looking forward to. I wish you could have spent
the night. Waking up with you in my arms would be heavenly.”
“Maybe you can spend the night tomorrow. We can catch the Late SportsCenter together,” she said.
“We’ll have to see. By the way, you made quite the impression on my mother.”
“What? What did she say?”
“That she likes you and coming from her that’s a high compliment.”
“Well, your mother loves her sons and protects them. I can’t say that I blame her,” Jill said.
“Now, you’re the first girlfriend I’ve ever had that understood my mother.” When Darren said ‘girlfriend’ he couldn’t help smiling. He’d gone from having no woman in his life to having a girlfriend, a budding relationship that made him warm inside. Jill was definitely the kind of woman that you planned for the future with.
“I understand your mom because if you were my son, I wouldn’t want some woman sinking her claws into my son, especially if he looked like you,” Jill joked.
He could hear pots crashing in the background. “You’re putting it down in the kitchen tonight, aren’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. I wanted to make sure everything is perfect. What time are you coming over?”
“Game starts at four-fifteen, so about three-thirty?”
“That works for me,” Jill said.
“I’m going to say goodnight and let you get our dinner ready.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Darren licked his lips. “If they’re of you, I’m sure they will be.” With that, Darren said goodbye and hung up the phone. He went to bed, all night long dreaming of making love to Jill.
Chapter Ten
Jill woke up Sunday morning feeling more than a little anxious about her dinner with Darren. Shari had prepared the meal, and all Jill had to do was place the macaroni in the oven, flour the chicken and place it in the deep fryer and bake the biscuits. Still, she felt that something was going to go horribly wrong.
“How did I get myself into this,” she thought aloud as she preheated the oven as Shari had instructed.
While the oven was heating, Jill went into her bedroom, flung her closet open and agonized over what to wear. Her dilemma was simple: She didn’t want to overdress, because all they were going to do was sit around the house. But she didn’t want to look as if she’d been sitting in the house all day, dressed in ratty sweats and a ripped tee-shirt. After all, she did want to make a good impression on the man.
Finally, Jill decided on a pair of well-worn jeans and an Atlanta Falcons tank top. She laid the outfit on the bed, and then headed for the bathroom to take a long hot bath. Soaking in the tub would give her a chance to think about what Darren meant to her and how important this dinner was.
“I’m going to come clean,” she said aloud. “Darren doesn’t want anything from me but my heart and he can freely have that.” Easing into the water, which was filled with scented oil and salts, Jill relaxed her shoulders. But just as she got comfortable, she remembered the oven was on. She leapt from the tub in rush, splashing water all over the floor, and nearly slipped.
Naked and dripping wet, Jill walked into the kitchen, which was hot as July. She was glad she hadn’t put anything in the oven because it would have been burnt to a crisp. Checking the dial on the oven, she saw she’d set the temperature on 500 degrees. Got to be more careful, she thought, turning the oven to 350. She took the casserole dish from the refrigerator and set it inside, then went back to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and wrapped a towel around her body before heading back to the kitchen.
Shari had told her to bake the macaroni for 30 minutes and the biscuits for 15 minutes, or until they were golden brown. Going about her preparations, she forgot about the time, and when three o’clock rolled around, she was naked, save her towel. She began heating peanut oil to fry the chicken in. Peanut oil, Shari said, gave the chicken more flavor.
“Fifteen minutes on each side,” she said as she dropped the breaded chicken into the hot oil.
Just then, the voice of the doorman came over the intercom. “Miss Atkinson, your guest, Mr. Darren Alexander is here.”
Jill suddenly realized she wasn’t dressed. Ohmigod! “Uh, send him up,” she stammered. What to do? She couldn’t leave the chicken, but she didn’t want Darren to see her like this.
Seconds later, there was a knock at the door. Jill lowered the heat on the chicken, wiped the flour from her hands on a dish towel and walked to the door. Her face was warm from embarrassment even before she opened the door.
“Hell—whoa! Am I too early?” Darren asked, leering at Jill in her towel.
“Come in and never speak of this again. I was cooking and time got away from me.”
“You always cook like this? Because if you do, you can come to my house and cook anytime.”
“I have to get dressed,” she said, her face now burning like an inferno. “Can you watch the oven for me? The biscuits and the macaroni should be done.”
“It smells good in here, but oh my, it looks a lot better,” he said, winking at her as she dashed into her bedroom.
* * *
Darren was impressed. Jill didn’t do the buy-the-food and hide-the-boxes thing like another woman he’d dated had done. But when he looked around for a pot holder, he found only a dish towel and used it to take the biscuits and casserole out of the oven. Then he checked on the chicken as it sizzled in the fryer.
“I’m back,” Jill said. She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a small hole in the knee and a black Atlanta Falcons tank top, but still Darren couldn’t get the vision of a nearly naked Jill out of his head.
“You look great, but the towel has to be my favorite outfit.”
“Shut up.” She walked over to the stove and placed a chicken breast in the oil.
Darren noticed the way she held the chicken in disgust. “All right, Jill, it’s time to come clean.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t want to do this, do you? If cooking isn’t your thing, I can live with that. You don’t have be something that you’re not to try and impress me. I’m already impressed.” Darren walked over to her and took the chicken from her hands and placed it in the oil.
Jill cleared her throat and said, “All right, I can’t cook. I make salads. I had help with all of this because I wanted to impress you. When I talked to you on the phone last night, my friend Shari and I were in here doing the preliminary work on this meal for you. A little while ago, I almost burned my house down preheating my oven. That’s why you caught me in my towel.”
Darren threw his head back and laughed, then took her face into his hands. “Baby, I like you just the way you are. I don’t need to be impressed. You did that the night you met me at the MARTA station.”
He ran his lips across hers. “So, can this Shari woman cook?”
“Don’t I get some credit for putting the food in the oven?” she asked.
“Yes, you do.” He playfully smacked her bottom.
Once the food was done, Darren and Jill took their plates and planted themselves in front of the TV to watch the game.
Truth be told, Darren could have cared less about the moves Michael Vick made on the football field. Instead, he was mesmerized by the way Jill kicked her legs when the Falcons made a mistake, by the way she cheered when Vick broke a tackle and by the way she sat on the edge of her seat every time a flag was thrown by the referees.
“How can they make that call? That was encroachment!” she barked, then turned to Darren. “Are they blind?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I tell you, this is amazing. Never have I known a woman that loves football like you.”
“Football was how my father and I bonded when I was growing up. He would never admit it, but he wanted a son. When I was five, I’d sit on his lap watch the game with him and when he nodded off to sleep, I’d sip on his Miller High Life.”
Darren wanted a son, but he wouldn’t mind having a daughter with a smile like Jill’s. He p
laced his hand on her knee.
“Dinner was great, but Shari can’t cook for us every night.”
Jill blushed. “Well, I can take a cooking class or you can cook and I’ll do the dishes.”
He took her hand into his and held it up for inspection. “Looks like you’ve never washed a dish in your life.”
“God invented the dishwasher so that I wouldn’t have to touch you with dishpan hands.” She stroked his cheek softly. “Doesn’t that feel good?”
Darren answered her by pulling her against his chest and greedily kissing her. Jill pressed him back on the sofa, positioning her body on top of his engorged sex. Soft groans escaped his throat as she sucked his bottom lip.
From the sound of the cheers on television, the Falcons had done something spectacular, but all Darren cared about was the hot and wet kiss that Jill delivered as she pressed her luscious body against him, nearly making him climax through his jeans. He sat up, wrapped her legs around his waist, took her lip between his teeth and nibbled slightly.
She pulled back from him, staring into his eyes. Darren slipped his hands underneath her shirt, stroking her back. “You feel so good,” he said.
“Darren, I-I,” she said.
Her lips enticed him so much that he couldn’t let her finish her statement. He kissed her with such zeal and passion that she melted against him. Darren could feel her trembling against his chest. He was going to explode if he didn’t have her.
“I want you,” he moaned.
“But I have to say something.”
Darren lifted her shirt over her head, exposing her breasts because she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Yeah?” he said before taking one of her perky breasts into his mouth. Jill threw her head back in ecstasy. Her intention was forgotten as she gripped the back of Darren’s neck and pressed against him. He reached for her fly, but Jill grabbed his hands and pushed him back on the sofa. She undressed him slowly, as if she were opening a sexy Christmas present. She ran her tongue down the center of his chest until she reached his waistband. Using her hands and her teeth, Jill unbuttoned his jeans and stroked his manhood until it throbbed with anticipation. She surprised him by pulling his boxers down and taking his penis into her mouth. The wet warmness of her mouth nearly pushed him over the edge. He dropped his hands into her hair as her head bobbed up and down. The pleasurable sensations that flowed through his body were indescribable. With one hand, she massaged his shaft, milking his essence from him.
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