He bent over to mold her body into his, her convex mounds fitting into his concave valleys. The softness of her breasts yielded to his hardened pecs. The flesh of her stomach flowed into the alleys between his abs. The forbidden mound of her sex became acquainted with his growing need.
Bonita’s mind betrayed her with a see-saw of conflicting thoughts: Yes, No, Yes, No.
Yes, she wanted River Wright, lusted for him. The ride had awakened longings in her that she had yet to explore.
No, she didn’t want his mouth on hers, working valiantly to take what she hadn’t offered.
Yes, she loved the feel of his body, his hardness colliding against her softness.
No, she didn’t want what was happening, what she knew he couldn’t control. She wasn’t ready for that quite yet.
No, no, no.
Her resistance came flooding back. The hands that were gripping his flexed biceps flew away and began to press against his chest. The body that had submitted so willingly to his grew rigid with noncompliance. The mouth that had eventually provided access, now closed up shop, pulling away.
“Stop it!” she yelled at his stunned face. “I—I can’t. I haven’t….”
She couldn’t even finish the thought. Out of frustration she pushed him again. He was unprepared for it and stumbled back two steps.
The motorcycle ride had changed things. Each passing mile had driven away the doubt she had about River and her thoughts about right and wrong; what she should and shouldn’t want.
Bonita knew what he wanted. It was something she wanted too.
But she couldn’t tell him the truth; wouldn’t tell him the truth.
Not yet.
River was just frustrated.
He caught his balance after the last push and stared at her, watching the conflicting emotions color her face: longing, fear, anger, shame.
He had a carnival of emotions rushing through his own system. Leading the charge was resignation. He could even feel the hardness that was proof of his fierce desire starting to deflate.
“What is it?” he asked trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “Is kissing off limits?”
“No…I just…I can’t,” she seemed to be debating something behind those eyes of hers. There was a final firm set to her lips and she glared at him. “We can’t do this.”
“You know what Bonita?” he said angrily. “I’m done.”
He could tell by the stunned expression on her face that she hadn’t been expecting that and all he could do was cough up a bitter laugh.
“What? You expected me to fight? To beg and plead and chase after you?”
“No…I-I just can’t—”
“Can’t what? Can’t be with someone who’s attracted to you? Who you know you’re attracted to as well?”
She pressed her lips together and glared.
He just gave another bitter laugh. “So what is it then? Darryl? Can you honestly say he makes you feel the same way I do?”
“This has nothing to do with him.”
“So what? What aren’t you telling me?” River shouted, shaking his head in exasperation.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she spat back at him. “So now you’re the only one who’s allowed to keep secrets?”
“I have my reasons,” he said, he expression darkening. He came in closer to her and saw her shy away from him. It killed him inside. Still, he had to make it clear to her how he felt.
“I would never hurt you Bonita. Whatever I may keep hidden from you, I’d never be a danger to you. But my secrets are mine, and I intend to keep them that way.”
She stared at him. “And I’m allowed to have mine,” she said softly.
“So that’s that?” he asked her.
She bit her lip and he thought for a moment she might cry. He reached out to put a comforting arm around her and she pushed him away.
“Here’s your helmet, River,” she said, putting it between them before he could even touch her.
He waited a moment then took it with an angry sigh.
“Have a nice life Bonita.” He took the helmet out of her hands and walked off back to his apartment without another word. He’d come back for the bike in the morning when he didn’t have two helmets to deal with.
Bonita watched him walk off, the tears finally coming to her eyes.
That was when the doubt started to creep in. She supposed she had expected him to put up a fight. It was stupid and conceited of her to even think it. River had every reason to walk off and “be done” with her.
She couldn’t blame him.
She was’t sure why she hadn’t just told him. He would have understood. It wasn’t even anything to be ashamed of. But her secret was hers, and she had a right to hold on to it. It wasn’t fair to have it forced out of her just because he was suddenly overcome with lust. Even though the same feelings boiled inside of her, it wasn’t as easy for her to act on them.
Because she was still a virgin.
His final words were what caused the doubt. The words that told her he would never hurt her. She should have trusted him to understand, to give her space and time.
She stared after him until he disappeared around a corner, never once looking back.
So that was that.
She headed back to the library and collected her books. There would be no more studying tonight.
The next morning she caught up with Marianne and took River up on the suggestion he had made when she had returned the dress.
“Hey, Tulip,” Marianne said, a bit surprised to see Bonita waiting for her outside of her dorm.
She just got straight to the point. “Do you know what that fight at Deirdre’s party was about? The one between Jeff and River?”
For the first time Bonita saw Marianne’s face darken in something approaching rage.
“Jeff,” she spat the name, “he was actually trying to—I don’t even know, but knowing him…. I mean, Bethany was pretty much out of it, but she remembers him being in the room and she kind of came to when River came in and dragged him out. All the same, who knows what would have happened if River hadn’t—”
“I get it,” Bonita said, her heart sinking with every word.
Marianne gave her a quizzical look. “What’s this about, Bonita?”
Bonita snapped to, plastering a bright smile on her face. “Nothing,” she said shaking her head as if to dismiss the topic. “I was just curious. Anyway, I’m off to go study. Thanks again!”
She hurriedly walked away before Marianne could press any further. Once she was safely out of reach she slowed down to absorb what she’d discovered.
Perhaps River was someone she could trust. But was it too late?
19
A week later Bonita was once again in the library, studying. Although her phone was on silent, she heard it buzz in her bag and reached in to grab it, throwing an apologetic smile to the boy who had looked up in annoyance at the sound of it.
I know you met with your parents. We should discuss.
I’ll be in NY this weekend. We’ll have dinner. I’ll meet you at 8 o’clock sharp.
Darryl West wanted to meet. He wasn’t asking; it was an order.
Bonita had put the weekend’s news from her parents out of her head, realizing that the only thing that had changed was that she was now in the loop on things. A small part of her regretted her insistence on knowing everything. She could have continued with school, blissfully unaware of just how much everything hung by a thread.
And now that thread had texted her.
Her parents had no doubt told Benjamin, who in turn had told Darryl. Based on the fairly moderate tone of the text, they had obviously, thankfully, left out the part about Bonita no longer being interested in dating him.
Bonita fell back in her seat to absorb it. She couldn’t go all semester avoiding him. That would no doubt lead to another sudden appearance on his part. If she was going to “have a talk with him,” she at least wanted to be prepared. She had j
ust been hoping for a little more time.
“Ugh,” she sighed, closing her eyes and throwing her head back to ease the stress of it all.
“Peace offering?”
Her head came right back up at the sound of his voice.
River Wright.
They had been cautiously avoiding each other since the motorcycle ride, avoiding eye contact, waiting until the other left French Literature before leaving the classroom. Now here he was in the library once again.
River plopped himself down on the seat across from her. This time instead of his helmet, he had a pair of large headphones hanging around his neck. He was also holding two coffees.
“I wasn’t sure how you liked yours, but I figured you like a little cream in your coffee.” He winked as he whispered it.
She wanted to respond with her usual annoyed rebuff at the obvious insinuation, but all she felt was relief.
Still, she eyed the coffee and couldn’t help herself. “Actually I prefer it black with lots of sugar.” She smirked as she took hers anyway.
“Ohhh…sounds exactly how I like it,” he whispered with another wink.
She laughed, which caused the boy next to them to look up with an annoyed expression. Then he eyed the coffees and gave them a disapproving twist of the lips.
She leaned in closer to him to whisper, “We’re not supposed to eat or drink in the library.”
He leaned across the table to meet her. They were only inches apart now. “Well, you already know I’m a bad influence,” he whispered back.
“I can hear you!” the boy at the next table hissed.
This caused an irritated Shhhh from another table.
“Oh shhh, yourself!” he said louder, the cracks starting to show.
“Everybody shut the fuck up!” someone further down finally shouted.
This caused giggles to erupt from Bonita. River joined her.
He reached his hand across the table. “Come with me on another adventure.”
Bonita looked down at the coffees in their hands.
“Bring it,” he said.
She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Obviously they weren’t off on another ride on his bike since he didn’t have his helmets. A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through her. Still, she grabbed his hand and followed him as he stood up, carrying his own coffee.
Instead of heading toward the exit, he went the other way toward the elevators. Once again, Bonita wondered where the heck he was taking her, but she kept her mouth shut and enjoyed the intrigue. If she knew anything about River by now it was that he definitely didn’t disappoint.
She felt herself getting giddy with anticipation. Once again her hand was in his. Once again her eyes watched his back underneath his dark hoodie.
Once again he was talking to her.
When the elevator doors opened they both got in and River pressed the button for the 6th floor, the very top. The car was empty so the ride up was all theirs. They stared at each other with smiles hidden behind the cups in their hands.
The doors opened and he grabbed her hand again, leading her down the back row of shelves toward an exit door. She saw the red bar and the sign reading:
WARNING! Alarm Will Sound If Door Is Opened.
“River!” she whispered with worry in her voice.
He just kept pulling her along. Once there, he turned around to face her, his back toward the door. He gave her a grin and a wink, then quickly pushed his back against the door. His eyes widened and his mouth formed an O as he did it, as if expecting the worst.
Bonita winced, closing her eyes and waiting to hear the alarm, but nothing happened. Her lids flew open in surprise and she gaped at River who was chuckling down at her.
“Hasn’t worked for a while. This isn’t even a fire door. They changed it a while back to make it seem like one because students were smoking pot on the roof. Now it’s just our little secret.”
She followed him out and gasped at the view. The library was one of the tallest buildings on campus, which was surrounded by townhouses and smaller apartment buildings. This left an unobscured view of most of the Manhattan skyline in the near distance. The lights of the city lit up before her and she took it all in as the late fall chill blew around her.
Bonita turned around to look at him and laughed as she watched him jog over to where she stood looking out over the ledge. She turned back around to look out at the campus beneath them.
River leaned back next to her, resting on one elbow as he looked at her profile.
“I’ve always wanted to ask you, why do you wear glasses?”
She felt herself stiffen. It was a question she got a lot, usually in the vein of why ruin such a pretty face with glasses? River’s tone seemed to be pure curiosity rather than criticism.
“Honestly, people took me more seriously once I started wearing them,” she shrugged. “Before these, it was always church ladies proclaiming how pretty I was or boys in school telling me how foooine I was.” She rolled her eyes. “Now they actually ask me about my classes and what I want to do with my life.”
“Since we’re being honest, I have to say they turn me on a lot more than if you didn’t wear them.”
She could hear the smile in his voice and laughed. Then they were silent for a moment, her looking up into the sky and River looking past her at the buildings of the campus, while they sipped their coffee.
She was surprised how comfortable she felt with him, even during these silences.
“So what are you listening to?” she finally asked.
“What am I not listening to,” he laughed. “My brother Alex has really broadened my musical tastes. Actually, he’s my half-brother, but we’ve become closer, despite our father and his….”
His voice trailed off. Bonita nodded. Everyone knew about Richard Wright’s habit of producing an “accidental” heir with a mistress while still married to the prior Mrs. Wright. He was currently on his fourth. The well-known rumor was that River’s mother was the second Mrs. Wright’s yoga teacher.
“Anyway,” he said perking back up again. “I have one in here for you. I think it’s appropriate for the circumstances.”
River placed his cup on the ledge and pulled out his iPhone. He began scrolling through his playlist while Bonita watched with a smile on her face. He looked so damn handsome in the moonlight!
The list was obviously pretty long since it took him a while to get the song he finally settled on.
“Here we are,” he said, pulling his earphones from around his neck and placing them on Bonita’s ears. She smiled excitedly.
The music started with what sounded like some kind of electronic piano tinkling, then there were violins playing over a beat. The voice of a man came on, rapping in French. She didn’t understand a word, but it was beautiful and hip and funky at the same time. Eventually, there were a few words she could understand, despite her utter lack of French literacy.
“…la belle et le bad boy….”
She laughed, and River, who had been watching her face with anticipation joined her, obviously knowing which part of the song she was at.
“M.C. Solaar. La Belle et Le Bad Boy,” he said when the song was done and Bonita pulled the earphones off. He came in closer to take them from her.
“The song is about a girl who gets tangled up with entirely the wrong boy,” he said looking down into her eyes with a small smile. “There’s a line in there: S’il devenait triangle, elle serait rectangle. La belle et le bad boy, le triangle rectangle.”
Bonita smiled up at him, enjoying the sound of French coming from his lips. She could feel the seeds of desire planting themselves deep inside her. Her breath became heavier as he translated, coming in closer to her.
“If he were triangular, she’d be rectangular. The beauty and the bad boy, the rectangular triangle,” he said in that less playful, deeper voice of his.
“You’re the rectangle to my triangle, Bonita.” His face was now inches from hers, and she had to tilt
hers up to his as he finished. “Let’s make a rectangular triangle.”
He didn’t kiss her. Instead, he put his hand on the side of her face, again caressing her cheek with his thumb.
“I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want. I lied when I said I was done with you. I seriously can’t stop thinking about you and—”
She kissed him. Her hand came up behind his head, her fingers running through his thick dark hair, pressing him deeper into her.
River immediately followed her lead, then took the reins, using his lips to gently guide hers open. His tongue crossed the threshold, seeking hers out.
She pressed her body to him, knowing what would happen and no longer caring. If he wanted her secret, she was happy to give it to him.
In a few moments his body responded the way both of them knew it would. This time, she didn’t pull away, embracing his masculine need instead.
It was River who pulled away this time. He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes with urgent concern. “Is this what you want? I can wait, Bonita. Take all the time you need.”
She looked back at him pondering the question. Yes, it was what she wanted. Then she realized it was tainted, colored by unfinished business.
Darryl West.
She couldn’t give herself completely to River while another man still considered her his. At the very least it wasn’t fair to Darryl, no matter how she felt about the man.
“After Saturday,” she whispered. “I’m yours.”
20
Darryl had insisted on one of the circular, intimate booths. The lighting was low, making things even more uncomfortable.
Bonita had tried keeping a firm space between the two of them, but he had spent the first part of the meeting—she refused to think of it as a date anymore—inching closer.
She turned to look at the man she had known for the past 5 years. They’d met when she was a sophomore in high school, and his father had finally won a seat in Congress.
So Wrong Page 11