Pretty Hurts

by Shyla Colt

  He kisses my cheek. “I did, darling.”

  “Okay, then I’m ready.”

  “You look amazing,” he says, running his hands over the sliver of skin bared in my two-piece, white crop top and long, white skirt.

  “Thank you, baby.”

  He hugs me. “Don’t be nervous.”

  “I’m going to be until the party starts. At least I have the first half of the day to get the jitters out while I help decorate,” I say with a laugh.

  He wraps an arm around my waist and guides me outside to the car. It’s amazing what a few months can do. Most days find us together, and I’m close to giving him a key to my place. I’ve never known love like this.

  Love? Jesus. I’ve always been a wanderer, too busy chasing dreams and traveling to settle down properly. Now I’m working a local job, and fully committed to the incredible man at my side.

  He’s been with me every step of the way with the good days, bad days, and in between. His patience is impressive. Still, it’s a two-way street. I put up with his family’s Spanish Inquisition, the sometimes long hours dealing with his shop, and the times he pulls away. I know his story. The things that went down with Marilyn were just wrong. I can’t imagine coming home to that horror show. We’re both a bit damaged, but healing together. The passion between us is potent, but neither of us has pushed for consummation.

  I smile thinking of the surprise I have hidden underneath my outfit. Tonight. I slip inside the passenger seat and roll the window down as I soak up the sunshine and wind blowing in. One plus of not having hair: I don’t have to worry about my hair style getting messed up. I chuckle to myself. Six months ago, I couldn’t have done that.

  We park on the street, and I jump out, grabbing the bag out of the backseat.

  “Excited?” Edgar asks with a laugh.

  “Yes, I’m dying to know what she’s having,” I state.

  “She really didn’t tell you?”

  “No, the wench did not.”

  He snorts a laugh. “How dare she?”

  “I know, right?” I wrinkle my nose as I frown, and we make our way up to the door. He knocks. A few moments later Houston answers the door all grins.

  “Hey, guys, come on in.” His gaze lingers on my bald head and he pulls me in for a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Houston,” I reply sincerely. Without him, I wouldn’t have my Edgar.

  He releases me and does a manly hug with Edgar as I scan the room. “Where’s the woman of the hour?”

  “Out back.”

  “I’m going to go snag her and see where she wants me to get started,” I say, leaving the men as they begin to talk about Edgar’s latest brew. I slip out the sliding door.

  “Honey, I’m home,” I call.

  She looks up from her seat where she’s watching the triplets and grins.

  “Aunt Efia!” they chime, running over for their hugs. It’s insane that they reach my hip now. I remember when they were small enough to hold in my arms. I give them a hearty squeeze.

  “Hi, guys.” I laugh as they return to their playing.

  “You’re here.” Liv rises. I take in her burgeoning belly in the stylish, off-the-shoulder turquoise dress that trails around her feet and makes her skin tone flawless.

  “You look incredible,” I exclaim, rushing forward to hug her.

  “Thank you. Oh my gosh. You know you didn’t have to get me anything else,” she says with a huff.

  I laugh. “What can I say? I’m that aunt.”

  “Yes you are, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Where’s your other half?”

  “Talking beer with Houston.”

  “Ahh. Makes sense. You want to put the bag on the table over there? It’s for presents.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I drop the gift off and return to her side. “What do you want me to do first?”

  “We can hang up the decorations.”

  “No, I can. You can rest your feet and direct me.”

  She huffs, but plops in to her chair. At the start of her eighth month, she’s reaching the uncomfortable stage.

  “All the decorations are on the table. I figured we’d hang them up in alternating pink and blue.”

  “Done,” I say, seeing Houston had done most of the work. I’m just filling in a few gaps and doing the floral arrangements. I quickly hang the pink and blue paper lanterns and return to help her with the mason jars they painted pink and blue.

  “Since you can do this sitting, you can assist me,” I say as she laughs.

  “Gee. Thanks.”

  “We’re just putting one white rose, surrounded by baby’s breath, right?” I say, remembering the post she’d pinned on her board online.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s easy enough.” We begin to clip the white roses bundled on the table between her.

  “So you and Edgar seem to be getting pretty serious.”

  I glance toward the door to make sure our conversation can’t be overheard.

  “We are. I didn’t know I could be so happy with a man. I always saw them as a restraint I didn’t want or need. Someone I needed to be accountable to held no appeal. But it’s not like that with Edgar.” I pause as I try to find the right words. “He’s there to support me, lend advice, and be brutally honest when I need it. It’s like what we have but not platonic in any sense of the word.”

  “I’m happy to hear that. You two are a good match. Still can’t believe Houston is the one who gets to take credit for that,” Liv mumbles.

  “Ha. If it helps, it don’t think the match-making was intentional.”

  “It doesn’t matter to him. He’s so proud, I wouldn’t rob him off his joy.”

  “That’s adorable.”

  “Isn’t it?” Liv asks.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Full. Think of your biggest pig out session, then times it by two and imagine you can’t digest it all.”

  I cringe. “I’ll pass.”

  “Yeah, and we’re not even talking about the alien effect when you feel the baby moving in your belly.”

  The image gives me the heebie jeebies. “Stop, you’re creeping me out.”

  She barks a laugh. “All right, I’ll stop.”

  We spend the rest of the morning catching up. The guests begin to arrive just before noon. I play secondary hostess, running drinks to people, and making sure the finger foods stay stocked, so my best friend can enjoy her moment to shine. Motherhood has been a long time dream she’d begun to lose hope in. Seeing her dream come full circle fills my heart with joy.

  “How you doing, darling?” Edgar asks, slipping up behind me.

  “Good. Look at how happy she is.”

  “If two people ever deserved it, it’s them,” he says.

  “If we can have you all step outside, we’ll get down to the reason we’re all here,” Houston calls out to the group.

  I rub my hands together.

  We all walk outside. I lean back against Edgar as Liv and Houston light the smoke bomb. Leave it to these two to be creative. I hold my breath while the wick catches and burns down. Blue smoke billows out.

  “It’s a boy,” Houston yells.

  We all clap.

  “Yes! I’m getting a brother,” Phoenix cheers as he runs around the yard. I laugh. Little man is getting more testosterone as requested. The cake with blue coloring inside is cut and passed around and we open the presents on our sugar highs. I can see Liv’s energy waning as she walks guests to the front door.

  I stand from the couch. “I’m going to start cleaning up.”

  “I’ll help,” Edgar says.

  I admire his thoughtfulness once more. It’s a rare quality in these self-centered times. I kiss his cheek and force myself to concentrate on the task at hand. Our time will come later tonight. Little fairies dance in my belly as I think of the night that awaits us.

  When the trash is bagged, and the decorations are down, I return to the couch where Liv is sea
ted.

  “The party was awesome, Livy.”

  “Thank you for all your help today,” she says.

  “Any time. You know that.”

  Liv nods her head. “I do, but I appreciate it just the same.”

  “Do you need anything else from me before I go?”

  “No, you’ve done plenty as it is.” She glances across the room. “Go be with your man.”

  “I’ll check in on you tomorrow, okay?” I lean down and give her a hug.

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” I stand and walk over to the table to grab my purse.

  “Are you ready to go home, babe?” I ask Edgar.

  “Yep.” He stands. “I’ll see you later, brother,” he says to Houston.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt as we leave the house and begin our journey back to my home.

  When we step inside the house, I toss my purse onto the table beside the entrance, and he hangs his keys on the hook. I spin to face him.

  “What?” he asks with a playful smile.

  “I love you.”

  His eyes bulge out of his skull, and I smile so hard my face hurts.

  “I–I love you, too.”

  “I wanted you to know that,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck and lean back. “The past six months have been an incredibly trying time for me, and you’ve been there every step of the way. First as friends and now as my boyfriend. Its meant the world to me knowing you’re there when I need you. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you enough for that.”

  “Hey, you’re there for me, too,” he murmurs, brushing my temple with his lips.

  “I hope you know I always will be. Wherever this leads, you will always have a friend in me, Edgar.”

  He cups the back of my neck, and our lips meet. The familiar tingles wake in my body. He’s oxygen, and I’m starved for air. I attack his mouth, determined to explore every inch of him. His hands grip my ass and rub me against his cock. I undulate against him, seeking more friction. My panties flood and my center throbs. I break the kiss, moaning as he nibbles his way down my neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin. There’ll be nothing sweet about this loving. We waited too long.

  He lifts me up and pins me against the wall. “You ready for me, darling?”

  “So damn ready.” I press a hand to his chest. “Wait. Put me down.”

  He frowns as he lowers me to the ground. I strip off my clothing like it’s on fire, and reveal the lace bra with strategic cut outs and matching crotchless panties.

  “Holy shit,” he rasps.

  He skims his hands down my sides. “You are so damn gorgeous it hurts, Efia. I want to take my time and savor the moment, but if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m going to blow my damn load. I don’t want to do that anywhere, but inside of you.”

  The thought of his hot stream filling me makes me whimper. I have a come fetish; it’s why I’m on the arm implant. We’ve both been tested and shared our papers as soon as things got physical. It made things so much simpler.

  “You want that, too, don’t you, darling?”

  “Yes,” I whisper breathlessly.

  He attaches his lips to mine and reaches between my legs to rub my swollen clit in slow circles. As he plunges two fingers in, I throw my head back. He circles my walls and scissors his fingers, stretching my tight center as he prepares me to take his wide girth. The meticulous, slow movements have me half out of my mind. I buck my hips up, but he refuses to go faster.

  “Have to make sure you’re ready for all the things I want to do to you.”

  “T-tease.”

  He slams his fingers home, and I scream. “Oh no, darling, I promise to deliver. On my own time.” Pulling his fingers free, he sucks them into his mouth. “So sweet.” He palms my ass and squeezes hard, delivering a slap. The sting spreads heat throughout my body. “Let’s take this in the bedroom.” His commanding voice has me walking toward the hallway as my juices drip onto my upper thighs. He presses on the small of my back. “On your knees with your ass in the air.”

  I climb onto the bed and scramble onto all fours. He grips my thighs and tugs me to the edge, burying his face in my ass. He tongue darts out and flicks my clit once, twice, and he plunges into my heat. I grip the sheets as I move my hips, riding his tongue.

  He pulls away.

  “No,” I beg.

  He thrusts two fingers and circles my puckered hole with his tongue. The dual sensations have me panting and shaking. My orgasm hits me like a meteor from the sky, and I go off, squirting as I shatter.

  “Oh yeah, baby, give me that sweetness.” He nips my ass and helps me back up onto my knees. I hear the sound of his clothing hitting the ground. When he pats my pussy with his dick, I place my face against the soft sheets, so ready to feel him move inside of me. He slips his cock between my wet lips and pushes back and forth, tapping my clit with each pass.

  “Edgar,” I moan.

  “You ready for me, Efia?”

  “God, yes.”

  He slips the tip in and works his way inside inch by inch, stretching me with a pleasurable pain. I pant as I feel him skin to skin fully for the first time. It’s more than sex; it’s a coming together of souls on a cosmic level. After he feeds me his length, he bends to kiss his way down my spine.

  “Love you, Efia.”

  “I love you, too,” I whisper as he pulls out and slides back in. Time slows as we move together. The pace quickens. His balls slap my ass as our bodies come together. I wrap my arms around his neck as he drives inside me, hitting a spot that has me damn near drifting in and out of consciousness.

  “Yes. Oh, fuck yes, Edgar. Please. I need to come.”

  “Gonna come for me, darling?” His gravelly tone in my right ear has me teetering on the edge.

  “Oh, yes.”

  He moves his hand down to stroke my clit, and I clamp down on his dick, coating him with my cream as I convulse.

  “Ah, shit,” he hisses, and gives me the geyser of warm liquid I love a few seconds later. Spent, we collapse on the bed and I listen to his heart beating against my back before he pulls out and moves us to the center of the bed. I suck down air, greedy to fill my burning lungs as waves of pleasure continue to flow through my body.

  “Hey.”

  Turning my head to face him, I give him a slow smile.

  “You doing okay?”

  “Not even the word for it.”

  He chuckles and kisses me sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

  I’m halfway to sleep when he returns. “Spread your legs.” He wipes me clean with a warm washcloth, and I know this is the man I’m going to spend my forever with. He disappears briefly, and we crawl under the covers.

  “I love you, Edgar.”

  “Love you, too, darling.” He pulls me close, and I relax into his warmth, drifting off at peace and completely in sync with my man.

  ***

  Edgar

  I gather the pile of mail from the box and laugh. The last thing I wanted to do after finally having sex with my woman was leave her side, so I’d spent the week living from her house until my selection of clothing was depleted and I had to come home. Thanks to the marvels of the digital age, I didn’t even have to be here to pay my bills.

  I take the bundle to the table and begin to sort. I roll my eyes at the flyers and loan offers. Nope. I tear them into tiny pieces and move on. An official letter catches my eye. Texas Department of Health? I rip the paper open. Acknowledgement of paternity for Betty Lucille Bird? My stomach churns. According to this piece of paper I have an eight-month-old daughter with Marilyn.

  Sweat coats my forehead. I sway as I grow lightheaded. Suddenly her insistence that we have a child makes sense. Jesus Christ, was she already pregnant when she left? Dread rolls over me like a dark storm cloud. I never wanted this. We were always so careful. How did this happen? When? Why wouldn’t she tell me? I push back from the chair, unable to think straight a
s I pace the tile floor. Why now? I just got my shit together.

  Oh my God, Efia. She doesn’t want kids. I have to talk to someone about this. I can’t bring this to my mother, she’ll freak. Right now, Efia is out of the question. I grab the phone and call up Addler.

  “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “Can you come over right now?”

  “Whoa, you okay?” Addler asks.

  “You know what, bro? I’m really not.” My voice cracks and I take a deep breath to keep from losing my shit over the phone.

  “Calm down, man. I was heading home, but I’ll come to your place. Give me fifteen minutes,” Addler says.

  “Thank you.”

  I hang up and go to the bar in the kitchen. Beer isn’t going to fit the bill. I pour myself a half a cup of Scotch and continue to pace as I try to make the calculations. She’d have to have been at least three months along when she moved out. Who does this? Suddenly my life has become a television drama. I don’t want to be a father. There’s a reason why I opted out. I spent so much of my life sacrificing for others. I’m not ready to do it again. My hand trembles. I may have to.

  I’m man enough to take care of my responsibilities, but it would kill something inside of me. She did this, knowing it was not of my choosing. Had she done it on purpose? The thought fills me with horror. No, she wouldn’t. Would she? At this point, I can’t even defend her. I would’ve sworn she’d never leave me with no notice, or pull a Maury on me and I’d have been dead wrong. I hear Ad’s truck in the driveway. I rush to the door, opening it before he can even knock.

  “You look totally freaked out. What happened?”

  I lead him to the table and hand over the paper.

  He scans the document and his eyes bulge. “What the fuck, man? Is this legit?”

  “I’m pretty sure it is.”

  “You know what she’s doing, right? She’s trolling you, setting up a path, so that she can ask for child support. Jesus, she’s probably trying to get retro for the past eight months.”

  “I think this is why she left,” I whisper.

  “The fuck. Why wouldn’t she just say something to you?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t pretend to understand the shit that goes on in her head these days.”