“Because we’re talking about marrying off our only son! He’s not even a teenager yet. That’s why we shouldn’t support it!”
Mother’s face was red, and her arms were waving frantically as she yelled at Father. I didn’t understand why they were fighting. If God wanted me to marry Abi, then I would marry her. Mother always told me to respect and obey my elders. I didn’t understand why she was upset now.
Father exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll admit that I wouldn’t have chosen this as a way to unite the community or as a way to make us stronger, but what other choice do we have here?”
“We could say no.”
“But is that the best decision or is that a selfish one? We want to say no because of James, because we want him to enjoy his childhood. Is that not selfish of us? Shouldn’t we think of the community?”
Mother shrugged. “I think it’s a bit selfish of the community to ask us to marry off our only child.”
“Perhaps it is, but when we started Living Light, we knew we’d be asked to make tough decisions in order to bring together a group of strangers.”
“This just…” Mother wrapped her arms around her chest. “This just can’t be the right way.” She spoke softly, calmly, and Father reached for her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
After a few minutes of silence, I tiptoed back to bed. With thoughts of marriage and arguments in my mind, I drifted to sleep, unsure of what tomorrow would bring.
Chapter Nine
Now
By the time I’d decided walking from Brooklyn to Manhattan was a ridiculous idea, I was already late for dinner. I thanked the taxi driver and exited the car, nearly forgetting the bundle of roses I’d stopped to get on my way home. I took the steps to our apartment two at a time until I reached the door. Inside, I found Jezebel busily cleaning the kitchen, two plates of food sitting atop the breakfast bar countertop.
“I’m so sorry, babe,” I said as I approached her.
She exhaled slowly as she turned to face me, her eyes widening at the sight of the two dozen roses I’d picked up. “They’re beautiful,” she said as I handed them to her. She closed her eyes, inhaling dramatically, her nose mere centimeters from a blossoming bud.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I know this was an important night,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t press me about my whereabouts.
“I was worried,” she said. Only then did I notice her worry wrinkles, as if she’d been frowning for the past several hours. Her hair was tied back, but loose strands from a busy day spilled from the clip. The heat had frizzed the hair around her ears, and she nervously tugged the loose strands into place as I stared at her.
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t text you.”
She grabbed a glass vase from the cabinet, filled it with water, and placed the roses in it. “What kept you?” she asked as she rearranged each stem.
I could tell she feared the worst. I’d never given her any reason to doubt my loyalty to her, but that was only because she didn’t know the whole story. If I was honest, there was another girl. I didn’t care for Abigail the way I cared for Jezebel, but that didn’t make lying any less wrong.
Thankful she wasn’t looking at me, I said, “I was with a potential client.”
She nodded. “Business seems to be picking up. I’m glad.”
“Dinner smells delicious,” I said, hoping to change the subject.
“It’s cold,” she said softly.
I closed the space between us, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close to me. “I’m sorry, Jezebel. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. You were working. I get it. I get carried away when writing sometimes.” She turned in my arms and placed a soft kiss to my lips.
“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll reheat dinner,” I said as I reached for a bottle of wine. I poured her a generous splash and watched as she retreated to the living room, plopping down on the couch in front of the television.
After a few minutes of radiated heat, I joined her. She smiled as I offered her a plate. With frizzy hair, no makeup, and wearing yoga capris and a tank top, she was beautiful. I was constantly amazed by how her simplest looks could leave me breathless. I leaned in and kissed her before sitting back and devouring my plate of chicken alfredo, only then realizing just how hungry I actually was.
“So,” Jezebel said, setting her plate of half-eaten pasta on the coffee table, “Tara sold the film rights, and she’s throwing me a party this weekend. All kinds of important people will be there. I’m stoked!” She squealed, clapping with excitement. And with that, my confident girl had returned.
I nearly choked on the pieces of chicken I’d been chewing. I swallowed down a gulp of wine.
Jezebel laughed, reaching forward and rubbing my back. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and set down my plate beside hers. “That’s amazing news!”
“I know. I can’t believe someone bought the film rights already. I mean, the book hasn’t even been released yet. Do you know how rare of a deal that is?” she asked.
“I can imagine, but I’m not surprised. You’re a terrific writer.”
She blushed, and I felt the heat of her cheeks in my pants. I shifted, turning toward her.
“I mean it, and I’m only slightly disappointed that we don’t have champagne in these glasses.”
“Well, I know a fantastic way to celebrate that doesn’t involve any alcohol,” she said, wiggling her brows.
Before I could respond, she was straddling my lap, pressing her lips to mine. I grabbed the meaty flesh of her ass, squeezing it as she ground against me. I was already hard. It was as if my dick was in a perpetual state of readiness when she was in the room, and I was eager to abide by its rules.
She had my cock springing free of my pants before I even realized what was happening.
“I love that I make you hard without really trying,” she said as she stopped kissing my lips so she could kiss my neck. Secretly, I loved it when she kissed me there. Each flick of her tongue, nip of her teeth, and suck of her lips sent shock waves straight to my dick. And now, as she put in her best work yet, thunderbolts were striking my cock in full force.
I groaned as she rolled her hips, rubbing herself against me. I could come without her ever really touching me. That’s how badly I wanted her. I think she knew that, too, and I think she secretly got off on the control she had over me, even if she was the one submitting.
She worked the buttons of my shirt and pulled it off. I leaned forward so she could pull off my undershirt. Exposed, I leaned back as she peppered kisses on my chest. She teased my nipple, playfully flicking it with her tongue, and I sucked my lip into my mouth. I was sure I didn’t feel what she felt when I sucked her nipples, but even so, it was erotic as fuck, and it made me hornier than ever.
Only then did I realize I was the only one naked.
“I think we need to do something about your clothes,” I teased.
She laughed. “Yeah? Should I strip for you, baby?”
I groaned. “Fuck, you’re sexy as hell.”
She stood, turned, and ever so slowly removed her yoga pants. She swayed back and forth until they fell to the ground.
I grasped my cock, slowly stroking it as I watched her.
She danced to music only she could hear as she pulled her tank top over her head. In only panties, she pulled the hair tie from her hair, letting her long, dark locks fall to her back.
I stroked my dick faster as my pulse quickened.
Running her hands through her hair, she bunched the loose strands, baring her back to me as she spun on her heels to face me. With still-swaying hips, she kept her eyes closed, and her breasts were full, soft, and staring at me. Her nipples were delicious hard peaks that I ached to taste.
She released her hair, running a hand down her soft curves until she reached her panties. Playing with the edge of the lace, she teased me, lowering them just enough
to reveal the arch of her bare mound. She turned again, this time leaning forward, and slowly shook her ass in circles.
I increased the pressure on my dick, rubbing the pre-come over the head. I groaned as I squeezed it, wishing I was about to come because I was sinking inside Jezebel instead of sinking into my fisted hand.
The lower half of her meaty ass was exposed in the panties she wore, but even though I’d already seen it, I was no less excited when she finally removed them. At a painfully slow pace, she slid off her panties and let them fall to the floor. Kicking them to the side, she faced me.
I was breathing heavily as I stared at her naked body. I scanned every curve, every scar, every beautiful part of her. She watched me stroke my dick while I stared at her, knowing it was her teasing and her gorgeous body that brought me to the edge. My breath hitched. I was about to come.
Jezebel fell to her knees and slid my throbbing cock into her mouth. The difference was jarring. My hands were rough; her mouth was soft, wet, hot, welcoming. And it took only one hard suck for me to reach my climax.
I cursed as I came. Jezebel stroked the base of my dick with her hand, milking every last drop. She swallowed everything I released, pumping my dick, sucking on my sensitive tip.
I rolled my head back and closed my eyes. “Fuck. So good,” I whispered.
I didn’t feel her mount me until I was already sliding inside her.
“Christ, Jezebel.”
My dick was still hard, still eager to fuck her until she orgasmed, but I was sensitive. And her pussy, so fucking tight, was desperate to make me come again. I curled my toes as she bounced up and down on my cock. Her breasts bobbled in front of me, so I leaned forward and seized a nipple with my lips. I playfully nibbled on the hard bud before soothing away the sting with my flattened tongue.
I angled my hips until I was rubbing against the smooth spot deep inside her.
“Yes, fuck. Right there.”
Her eyes were closed, and I knew she was close. I grabbed her hips, letting her rest while I took control. Sweat beaded my forehead as I thrust into her again and again. She gripped my shoulders, digging her nails into my flesh.
“I’m coming. I’m coming!” she cried.
She clenched down on my cock, a vise grip so tight I couldn’t suppress my desire to come again. I orgasmed with her, shooting what I could muster deep within her core. My cock twitched, unable to come again, and I slowed my thrusts until we were both unmoving, breathless on the couch. She leaned against me, her nipples, still hard, rubbing against my skin, and her hair, damp with exhaustion, tickling my nose as I kissed her temple.
Jezebel moaned as she snuggled against me. “That was amazing.” Her voice was low as she mumbled, drowsiness clearly taking effect.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said.
My arms were wrapped around her, and I traced circles on her skin with my thumb. She shivered under my touch. Before I could lean down to kiss her, a buzzing erupted in the silent apartment. Jezebel groaned, slid off me, and sprinted to where her cell phone lay on the kitchen countertop.
“Hello?” A few seconds passed as I watched her, unable to look away from the bare, heart-shaped ass that stared back at me. “Hello?” She sounded annoyed now. She ended the call, bringing the phone with her as she returned to me on the couch.
“Who was it?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Obviously no one had answered her.
“I don’t know. I’ve been getting a lot of hang-up calls lately, and sometimes I can hear someone breathing, but they don’t answer me. I thought it was a prank, but now, I…” She shook her head and shivered.
I leaned over, pulled the blanket from beneath me, and covered her with it. “How long has this been happening?” I asked, unable to hide my annoyance.
She shrugged. “A while.”
I turned to face her. “A while? And you’re just telling me now? Christ, Jezebel. I am your bodyguard. Don’t you think this is something I should be aware of?”
“I-I don’t know. I thought it was no big deal. I—”
“But it could be a very big deal. I need to know these things. I can’t protect you when you hide shit from me!”
I was angry, justifiably so. When Jezebel was taken, I was supposed to be protecting her, not indulging in a life I thought we couldn’t have. Instead of escorting her, I let the idea of being together get the best of me. I put aside my bodyguard duties and relaxed. That was when Miller made his move. I would never make that mistake again.
I knew who had been calling Jezebel. Even though I was sure Abigail was harmless, I was pissed that she was doing this. Abigail wasn’t an idiot; she knew she was poking a sleeping lion. And I would stop at nothing to ensure Jezebel—and her recovery—remained protected.
“Why are you so angry with me?” she asked. Like me, she wasn’t hiding her annoyance either.
I exhaled slowly. Fighting with Jezebel would get me nowhere. I’d been lying to her, so she didn’t know the danger she could be in. I couldn’t expect her to tell me about a few hang-up calls when she didn’t know she very likely had another stalker on the loose.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick right now. I just… I just worry about you. Work’s been stressful, and I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Her response was short, to the point, and anything but fine. She didn’t know to be fearful, because I hadn’t told her about Abigail’s stalking tendencies. I could admit the truth now, but that would only lead to questions I still couldn’t answer.
I had to admit, Abigail was playing a good game. She was calling from a blocked number, and even if Reynolds could trace it, it would probably only lead to a burner phone using any number of towers in Manhattan, telling us nothing new.
Abigail was no longer poking a sleeping lion. The lion was awake, hungry, and ready to make her his meal.
Chapter Ten
Then
The summer heat was slick on my skin. I wiped away the sweat with the back of my hand, praying to God for the strength to make it through this sermon without passing out. I loved summer because we could have our church services outside. But summer in upstate New York was humid. Sometimes, it hurt to breathe. It felt like a hot, wet blanket was wrapped around my head, smothering my mouth and nose. I wasn’t sure how many more days like this I could handle without a trip to our lake.
I scanned the group. Everyone was here. It was against the rules not to attend sermon. Even when sick, God expected you to show up, and so did the new pastor. I didn’t know what he’d do if the sick didn’t attend, and I figured everyone was too scared to ask. I didn’t worry much because I was never sick. But I did want to ask why God was so strict with us ever since He sent the pastor here. In every sermon, the pastor seemed angry with us for something else we’d done that he didn’t like. It was as if we couldn’t ever please him. That was the first thing on my list of reasons why I didn’t like him.
I hadn’t been listening to him, and I felt guilty. I knew God would want me to pay attention. So would Mother and Father. I glanced over at them. They sat beside me, Mother holding Father’s hand as they listened to the pastor preach God’s word. I sneaked a peek at Abi. She was sitting beside her father. Her ankles were crossed, and she sat up stick straight. I adjusted in my seat, matching her stance. She smiled when our gazes met, but her smile never reached her eyes. I wasn’t sure why, but she always looked sad.
I looked past her and stared at the weeper. The breeze made the long branches blow in waves, and it reminded me of the water. I wiped the sweat at my forehead again and closed my eyes, but only for a moment.
“James,” the pastor called. It was amazing how quickly a single-syllable word could terrify me. It was my name, and I heard it dozens of times every single day. But sometimes, on days like today, it could shoot an arrow straight to my gut, leaving me gasping for breath as my sputtering heart gave out.
My gaze flickered to his, and I o
ffered a wide, but fake, smile. Had he just caught me dozing off? Had he heard my plea to take this sermon to the lake, where we could bask in God’s land while floating adrift?
“Please stand,” he said.
I obeyed without hesitation. Was he going to tell everyone I’d nearly dozed off in the heat? Sometimes, I thought he was a mind reader. He always seemed to answer my thoughts. It was creepy, and it was the second thing on my list of reasons why I didn’t like him. I was making up my list as I spent more time with Abi and him, but these were perfectly good reasons to dislike someone, I thought. I wondered if he knew I didn’t like him.
“It is my greatest honor to announce the engagement of James Blakely and my daughter, Abigail.” Almost as if on cue, Abigail stood and curtsied, giving her audience a wide smile.
I scanned the group. Most seemed horrified, their faces contorted into shocked gasps. Those without furrowed brows clapped, but beneath their smiles and congratulations, I noticed something more sinister. Did they also doubt God’s request that I marry Abi?
I looked back at Abi. She still stood, her knee-length pale-blue dress fluttering in the wind. Her hair was pulled back, showcasing her freckled nose and cheeks. I smiled when she looked at me. I tried to see something else in her eyes. Did she harbor similar feelings? Was her smile a lie, too?
I felt like I couldn’t believe anyone anymore. Everyone said they were happy, but their happiness ended there. It never reached their smiles, their eyes, their actions. Was I the only one willing to follow God’s plan?
I didn’t understand everyone’s shock. I didn’t understand how marrying Abi would make our lives any different. Mother and Father were married, and they lived in the same house. I thought all that would change is that Abi would move into our house. We had another bedroom. It was small, but I thought Abi would like it.
When I told Father we should build a bookshelf for Abi to store her things when she moved into our house after we were married, he told me to hush and sent me to my room. Mother overheard, and she didn’t speak the rest of the night.
Truth We Bear Page 5