The Wedding: Dark Romance

by Sienna Mynx

  We kiss and sway to the music beneath our feet. With her arms around my neck and her body pressed snug to me. I can’t help but appreciate the privilege.

  “Stop,” she says.

  Confused by the rejection I comply and let go of her.

  “We’re not alone,” she whispers.

  I glance back and Smoke is on the roof. He’s staring at us. “What is it?”

  “Pops is here. Wants to see you.”

  The news throws me. It’s rare that my father comes in and at this hour. He could have called first. Smoke doesn’t give any further explanation. He turns and walks away.

  “Who is Pops? Your father?” she asks.

  “Yea, didn’t expect him. Want to hang out while I deal with him?”

  “Sure,” she smiles.

  I check my watch. The club will be open until the last drunk leaves the door. It runs itself. Smoke and Cricket will make sure things are good.

  “How about we go for a drive afterwards?”

  She nods her agreement. I put up the sax and take her hand and we leave the roof. I escort her to the bar and tell Cricket to keep her comfortable, give her whatever she wants. Now I have to deal with Pops.

  I’m having a good time. The Bone Room crowd is large but not overwhelming. I can see the band and the smiling and inebriated faces of many. There are all kinds of people mixed in together, every race. And the music is so loud that even when a man tries to speak to me I can pretend I’m deaf and be believed. Brick leaves my side. I watch him greet two men that look like him, except they’re a bit surlier in the face. One has a beard. He’s the one that glances my way. They wear button down shirts and slacks but I imagine they spend most of their days in jeans and t-shirts. They have the bodies of wrestlers with the height. Were they bodyguards of some kind? No. They look like Brick, at least from what I can tell. These men must be his brothers. Brick walks past them and heads to that cramped little office of his and disappears inside. The men don’t follow. I’m doubtful that they could squeeze inside. They wait there talking. But one again casts his look my way and it’s not friendly. He must have noticed Brick delivering me to the bar. I look away after his staring makes me uncomfortable.

  “Here ya go, cher,” Cricket says and gives me another rum and coke.

  “Thank you,” I say. Cricket winks and moves on. I turn on my barstool and enjoy the show. I hope Brick can wrap things up soon. But the night is mine to do as I please. And this is what pleases me.

  Pops is seated on my desk. There is barely enough room for two people in my office and that’s kind of embarrassing. I should do better in keeping my business in order.

  “Why is it I have to come all the way down to the Quarter to see my son?” Pops asks.

  “You miss me?” I answer.

  Pops gives me a lopsided grin. “Evangeline’s been asking after you. Your sisters say they barely see you and they’re up front working in the damn restaurant every day.”

  “Everything is cool, Pops. I keep late hours. You know that.”

  I drop back on the door and stare at him. My father nods. I can tell this isn’t a social visit. Pops wants something. He’s leading up to it. And from the way he stares at me he’s gauging his decision to include me.

  “Your brothers need your help. Tomorrow.”

  “My help?” The request sounds strange to me. Both of my brothers can give a shit about me tagging along on business matters. In fact they consider me the runt of the litter. No matter how often I’ve tried to prove myself.

  “Vietnamese. We are having problems with them again. I want you to go with them tomorrow afternoon. Set some things straight.”

  “Why me Pops? I mean…”

  “You my son aren’t you?” Pops interjected.

  I silence myself instead of being told too. Pops leans forward. “I don’t give a shit about this joint or you and Smoke playing with those flutes.”

  “Saxophone,” I correct him.

  “I don’t give a fuck!” Pops said. “You’re my son. And family is family. I want a family showing, and that means you go too. I’m not going to be here forever to spoil you. When I leave this shit stain earth I need to know my boys will carry through. So you be home tomorrow and you handle that business for me. Understood.”

  The message was clear. There was nothing to misunderstand. Pops had come all the way into the Quarter to deliver it personally. I’m in no position to deny Pops.

  My father stands. He’s still the tallest man in the family. He lives big, drives big trucks, eats and drinks big meals, and has more women than I care to count. His wife pretends he doesn’t. But the bastard children of Pops keep showing up in the Bayou. My brothers and I try to emulate him. Beneath that mean Cajun red skin of his beats a heart of a family man. He knocks over boxes to come around the desk to get at me.

  “Clean this shit up!” he grunts. He then pulls me into his chest and gives me a fatherly hug. It’s done privately with my Pops. But even as a kid he’s always shown me affection. My brothers and sister say I’m his favorite. Smoke does too. I just don’t know why. I’m not born with the killer instinct of his other sons, though I have his meanness. I guess it’s something between a father and son that I don’t have to understand.

  He takes my face in his hands. “You doing good, boy?”

  “You want to stay and hear me play tonight?”

  Pops laugh. “Nah, whistle me a tune when you come over tomorrow.”

  I nod. He smacks me upside my head and messes with my hair. “Tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me Brick.”

  “I won’t. Oh, Pops. Wait. I got in some trouble earlier. Cleve wants to get his wife a Mercedes truck. Bring her in Saturday to the dealership, get it below cost.”

  “Tell Jessup to handle it,” Pops says and puts a cigar back in his mouth.

  “Yes sir.”

  I open the door and let Pops squeeze his way out of it. My brothers glare at me and move on. They walk out into the Bone Room and barely stop to speak to the others who recognize who they are. Pops casts one last look at me for obedience, and I nod my head. He winks and up the stairs he goes.

  When I look over to the bar I see Coco watching. She smiles for me. I smile at her. Tomorrow belongs to Pops, tonight belongs to her.

  Chapter Seven

  “Woooohooooo!” I shout to the sky with my arms held up high over my head. Brick’s speed doesn’t scare me. But I can’t stand for long. I fall back into the seat. He accelerates and we go faster than a bullet. The music is blaring and the road is ours. I think it’s the alcohol. If I hadn’t drank those rum and cokes I wouldn’t be such a daredevil. Still I love the intoxicating feel of the night.

  The city may be beautiful during the day, but the magic of the city is only truly felt at night. Without telling Brick I needed this, I knew, and I know he needs it too. We fit that way.

  The car slows and we leave the smooth paved road for a rocky one. I open my eyes and can’t see the moon beyond the low hanging branches. There is however no real block out of the moonlight. I know the souls of the past and those yet to be born are twinkling up there with the stars against the dark sky. Brick drives fast along the single lane road and I can close my eyes and imagine Creole, French, African, Cajun, men and women all taking the journey along this same path centuries ago by feet, horse and buggies, Ford model-T cars, souped up Chevy’s. That’s why I’m going to be a writer someday. This sight, the introspective connection to so many souls and stories I carry in my head I have to release. I was born to release.

  The corvette slows to a stop and we are parked. Brick doesn’t turn down the music or cut off the lights. We’re alone. He knows it. I feel it. His hand slides over to my thigh and slips further.

  “Take these jeans off,” he says.

  I smile for him. He watches as I unzip my jeans and push the tight fit off and down my hips and thighs. I have to sit up to get my thong out of the crease of my ass to roll it down. Brick unbuckles his pants. I turn down the music
and switch the station. I find the kind of easy listening jazz that reminds me of him. Brick is surprised when he looks over and I’m removing my shirt.

  We’re safe here. I can sense it. And I want to feel him, mouth and dick, everywhere.

  “Come here,” he grunts and opens his door. He has too. The corvette is sexy and sleek but not made for sex. With no backseat he’s reclined as far as he could. In order for me to ease over and on to his lap We have to open the door, keep the top down. I rip into the condom and remove it. Our little accident in my grand-mère’s kitchen won’t happen again. I hope.

  Brick watches as I ease the condom down his length and smiles with approval at my technique. He helps me over. He scoots inside closer to the passenger seat so my knee and leg can rest on part of his seat and not fall out of the open door. My breasts are in his face. And I’m trying to position myself. But he’s licking and sucking my nipple making it hard to concentrate. His cock is now at my entrance and I go down on his thickness—yum, taking him in from the top is just as sweet as it is from the back. I can tell he likes it too. He squeezes both my butt cheeks.

  “You like that?” I ask him.

  “Yeah,” he says and tries to move. But he’s pinned to his seat in an uncompromising position. I have all the control. With the strength of my thighs and knees I put in work and I feel him in the most nerve shattering ways. I widened my stance a bit on his lap and he’s able to tilt his hips up so I can really feel the strikes as I bounce faster and faster. Brick is rubbing his face across my breasts. He loves to suck on and nibble on my tits. I slow the ride and my belly is bumping against his chest as I work my hips back and forth. My pussy is getting so hot and wet now my head is spinning. I like nailing him but I want most of all is for him to nail me. My head goes back and I release a deep buried sigh of relief and then stop.

  “Don’t stop,” he begs.

  “I want you to do me,” I tell him while panting like a marathon runner. “Here in the car. From the back.” He opens his eyes and looks at me confused. I smile. “We can do it. Trust me.”

  I get off of him and he holds on to the ring of the condom to make sure it doesn’t get sucked back into me. I step out of the car. Brick seems to need a minute to catch his breath. He gets out. I get back in the car but I face the back of the car with my tush on the steering wheel. I lean over the seat and my chest is pressed flat to the trunk of the car. My left foot hits the gear shift but doesn’t release it. I finally plant it on the passenger seat. Because of my position Brick is able to get back in the car and face me with his ass now to the windshield. I look back and he’s smiling. I bet he didn’t think this would work. I knew it was the first time he’s made love to a woman this way in his corvette. It’s the first time for me. Not even sure why the idea formed in my mind. It just did.

  Brick angles his pelvis and points his dick to slide back into me— a perfect fit. He covers my back as his hips surge forward and then with jerking motions drive every inch in and out of me. The head rest of the driver seat is a cushion to my abdomen. My face is resting against the smooth finish of the car trunk. His cock feels bigger this way. It might be my imagination but it does. And every sensation is tenfold. My inner walls are melting around pure steel as it pummels my pussy. My lower half is set to a vibration thanks to his rhythm. Inside I can feel my channel tighten to his surging cock tightly before weakening, and then going tight again. I can’t breathe without making sex noises that sound almost as wild as the wilderness animals that stalk the night and watch us from the shadows. I have to work at dragging down oxygen in my lungs. Maybe it’s the crushed position he puts me in when he drops hard against my back or the excitement we both feel. I’m not sure. I open my eyes and look out to the swamp beyond the dark oak trees. A white fog swirls around the roots and base of the trees. There’s magic in the night. I moves through me and claims us both.

  “Stop thinkin’,” he rasps into my ear. “Feel me.”

  How does he know? I guess when you are this spiritually connected you have to. So, instead of thinking I let down the last of my defenses and move my ass with a tease after each delivered strike. He grips my hips and his thrusts shorten, sharpen to finish with precise strokes. The friction torches me from the inside.

  “Yes! Yes!” I cry out.

  It’s the bumping, bleating, panting cacophony echoing around the forest of our lovemaking and then we break. The climatic collapse is devastatingly sweet.

  Not sure why I’m awake but suddenly I am. I look over to my left. Coco is asleep next to me. She’s on her chest with her head turned. The sheet is pulled down to her hips so I can see her back. I got that haze I get from heavy drinking or smoking. But I really didn’t do either tonight. It was her. Every inch of her. She has this energy that depletes me. After making love to her in my ‘vette, I rush us home to fuck her again on my bed. And she’s just so damn sexy and able to please me. She’s my new addiction and that’s not good. For one, she’s not mine. We only have a week before she disappears out of my life. And lastly, I don’t need a woman, a girlfriend, a wife or any of it. I’m a lone wolf and I like it that way.

  Still, as I lay here staring at her I have to wonder why our paths keep crossing in the most inexplicable and decadent ways. In the afterglow she told me that it was my saxophone. I hypnotize her with it every time I play. It sounds corny or contrived but part of me believes her. Because every time I play for her I feel it. That bond between us.

  I reach over and pick up my phone and check my messages. Most are from Smoke. The final text message says: Get rid of the girl.

  I frown at the message and read the ones that proceed it once more. They were just updates on the club and the payout to the band and the talent. A few about orders that need to be placed to stock the bar. The final message makes no sense. And it pisses me off. Smoke doesn’t mind my business. He’s been acting weird about Coco since he met her. I text him back: We need to talk. And then I’m done with the matter.

  I’ll deal with him later.

  “Mmm, what time is it?” she says and is looking at me from her pillow. At some point she woke and turned over.

  “It’s four, a little after.”

  “I should be going. Georgie is covering for me but my brother Nathan… he’s known to do pop-up visits.”

  “Seriously?”

  “He can be controlling and a bully.”

  “Protective of you, you mean?”

  “No. Controlling,” she says.

  I ease my hand under the sheet and caress the soft mound of her right buttock. She smiles.

  “You want it don’t you?” she asks.

  “Your cherry?” I ask.

  “Mmm, yes, do you want it?”

  I kiss her cheek. “Yes. Give it to me.”

  She seems to like my discomfort, my lust for her. And then she opens her eyes and looks at me. She reaches and her hand rests on my jaw. She draws my lips to hers. The taste of her is still bitter sweet from the rum. But not in a bad way. My dick is so hard now I fear it might puncture the mattress. I move on her but she doesn’t turn. “Lay on top of me,” she says softly.

  I roll on top of her. The soft cushion of her buttocks part and my dick slips between the cheeks. I kiss the side of her face. I want her, every part of her. But this forbidden zone is only tempting because it’s denied to me. My erection won’t let me retreat.

  “Are you on the pill?” I ask her.

  “Mmmmm,” she says.

  “I want you, the real you, I’m clean. I swear.”

  “That and ten dollars gets me nothing.”

  “I’m clean, trust me.”

  “Says the guy before the test results come back positive,” she chuckles.

  “Hey!” I bite her cheek. She giggles. Her head lifts off the pillow and she turns her lips toward mine. I give a pelvic push that lifts her ass and my dick slips down to enter her tight wet pussy heat. I groan and close my eyes. My forehead is pressed to the back of her head. Her hair is breathe
d into my nostrils with every drag of breath. I’m loving her again. Her body quakes beneath me. Her back caves just an inch as my might presses down on her. I ease a hand beneath her pussy and pinch her clit to make sure everything she feels is as extreme.

  “What does it feel like,” she wheezes. “Tell me, what does it feel like to be inside of me.”

  “Soft, hot, tight,” is all I can grunt.

  “Oh yeah,” she moans. I pull out of her and she turns under me and parts her thighs. I’m back inside of her with a single thrust. Her thighs lock around my waist. My mouth and hers reunite and the kiss is as good as the rest of her. Her hands and fingers are intertwined in mine and I’m pinning her arms down above her head. Beyond any protesting now, she whimpers under my pelvic bangs and dick thrusts. She is rocked by the strength and relentless force. I don’t need to ask her what it feels like. I learn her body within every whimper, shiver, outcry and moan that escapes her. I know what she likes. Soon we’re rolling on the bed. She’s on top. Riding me hard and fast. Her long hair covering her face. And then I’m on top beating her pussy like a cave man and she’s clawing at my back and arms for relief. Together our passion explodes and relief breaks out of her in sobs as we both find the timing to reach a climax. Her body stiffens, her back arches up against my chest as I release for the very first time intentionally into her womb.

  I’m so spent I collapse on top of her. She breathing slow and steady beneath me and I have to pull out.

  “So good,” she says and kisses my sweaty chest. “You’re so good, Brick.”

  “You too,” I tell her and sigh. It’s the last thing I think of before I slip even deeper into a blissful sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  I’m knocking and hopping from one foot to the other. I have to pee. “Georgie! Open up!”

  Finally I hear movement inside. It’s only around seven in the morning. My best friend should be up by now. The locks disengage and Georgie rubs her eyes as she opens the door. I nearly knock her over before rushing inside.