Cancer_Mr. Intuitive_The 12 Signs of Love

by Tiana Laveen

  “How so?”

  “You have very good control over your voice, and so you are not loosening it up to fit the song. Instead, you are doing what worked for you in the past, which is using your default voice. Everybody got a default voice, singers or not. You sing everything in that same voice and it just so happens that with most of the songs you sing, well, that works. But with this song, baby, you can’t do that. You have to just—”

  “But you said just last night when we was talkin’ in your truck outside of my house that you put your own twist on covers, and I do, too! I don’t have to sing it just like her, Cain. In fact, to me, that is insulting when people do that unless they are teachin’ a singing class. This may not be the Clark Sisters in concert, but it isn’t a class, either. We ain’t in school.”

  Her lips twisted up. She was clearly pissed at this point.

  “In this case, you do need to act like it’s a damn class ’cause somebody is gonna be watchin’ us and takin’ notes! You need to be the exact fuckin’ carbon copy of the original! None of that vibrato! None of that swayin’ ’nd shit, Whitney Houston has left the buildin’!”

  “I think we need to talk about this… I like the song, but she sounds flat. You need the—”

  “Why are you arguin’ with me about this? You don’t even do gigs! You sing in the shower, for your friends’ weddings that they’ll probably be out of and divorced in a couple years. You sing in a choir in a little church that is so small, people don’t even realize it’s a place of worship until they hear them coins hittin’ that collection plate for the umpteenth thousand time. You can’t tell me how to do this! Shit! Can’t you just follow my instructions? Damn!”

  “Ohhhh.” Her finger jetted in his direction and her neck got to moving and twisting like a cobra. “I see what’s done happened here. You done lost your monkey ass mind! Follow your instructions? Mothafucka, I’m not some dog down at your uncle’s alligator farm and let me tell you another mothafuckin’ thang, I don’t like how you’re talking to me and you best get it togetha!”

  His eyes grew big, but he stifled a laugh… Whew! Little Mama was hot!

  “Oh, so now you wanna show you ain’t always sweet and kind like strawberry wine? I been askin’ you to tell me about what’s tickin’ in your heart, what makes your juices flow and nine times outta ten I can’t make heads or tails of your answers ’cause you skirt around ’em like an ice skater but when you think I insult your singin’ now you wanna rise up like ashes from Ms. Mt. Tapestry Volcano. What did you expect me to do about it? You’re singin’ it wrong. This ain’t a date right now… this is business.”

  “Cain, you could have just as easily said, ‘Try to do it like the original track because they want it vanilla.’ Without all this extra bullshit! I tell you what though, little boy, you go find you a White girl like the one singin’ the damn song. That’ll be yo’ cup of tea since you don’t want no soul in it. Askin’ for soulfood wit’ no seasonings… fuck you.” She turned her back to him. “Thank God I drove myself over here, ’cause I’m leavin’.”

  “You’re slippin’ out the door too, huh?” he joked, but she wasn’t amused.

  The woman tossed the microphone on the floor and stormed away, her arms swinging so hard, it was a miracle she didn’t fly up into the air like an angry bird. He chased after her, his heart beating a mile a minute. She grabbed her purse and phone from the living room table and made her way towards the exit.

  Had he just picked a fight? Perhaps he had, though it wasn’t his actual intention.

  “Baby.” He gently pulled on her arm as she opened his closet door to retrieve her cardigan. “Look, I am a perfectionist, okay? But I didn’t mean to make you feel badly. It’s nothin’ personal.”

  “Why don’t you perfect how you fix yo’ mouth to talk to folks, huh?! How ’bout that? I’m not tha one! You need to learn some respect… You don’t know me like dat. I can see that you have anger problems and I ain’t about that life. Call you a therapist, but don’t call me. I’m too expensive for the nickels ’nd dimes you tossin’ my way, I won’t let you wreck my peace and I ain’t got time for the headache.”

  She snatched the jacket off the hanger but he turned her towards him and pressed his lips to hers. She struggled against him, her fists beating into his chest until he pushed her hard against the wall.

  “Come on, baby… don’t be like that… I’m sorry.”

  They gasped for air between kisses, his hands roaming all over the soft curves of her ultra-feminine body… his lust burst free. He kissed all over her face and circled her waist with his arms, pulling her into him, cinching her close. After a bit, she finally relaxed against his body.

  “I said I’m sorry… I’m serious.” He looked into her eyes and smiled, but she didn’t smile back. “It’s just that uh… this gig is really important to me. I’m a little tired tonight, too but that’s no excuse… you ain’t deserve that. You were right. I was wrong.”

  She stood there staring at him, her arms now crossed over her chest, as if she didn’t believe a damn thing he was saying.

  She looked down and opened her purse to slide her phone inside, but instead, it slipped to the floor.

  “Shit!”

  “Don’t worry, it didn’t crack.”

  He reached down to retrieve it, but before he handed it back to her, he saw a new text message on her screen from someone that read:

  GIRL! If his body look that fucking good you better jump on that dick tonight!

  He handed her phone back and burst out laughing.

  “What?” she said before looking down, too. “Oh no… oh no!” She cracked up, covering her mouth with her hand. “I promise it’s not what it looks like! Grace is crazy!”

  He took her by the hand and walked her back into the dining room.

  “Shhh, you don’t have to explain.”

  He sat back down and picked up his guitar. She looked at him long and hard as if still trying to figure out if all should be forgiven…

  Seconds later, she had the microphone in her hand and she was belting out the damn thing perfectly!

  He smiled to himself.

  Damn. It worked. She sings better when she’s impassioned… pissed, angry as fuck. I could feel it this time. Every word, every sentence that flowed out of her mouth was alive. I had to rile her ass up to get what I needed from her. She’s like me… our best work comes from our very soul, but only when we’re on an extreme high, or at a gut crushing low…

  …She’s like my twin. A soulmate in the making…

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hot Buttered Love…

  Cain must’ve been in love with butter, a greasy flavorful love affair indeed because as they sat there on his couch, curled up together like lovers, Tapestry’s fingertips were soaked in it. They’d shared a bowl of popcorn.

  He must’ve poured two melted sticks in it…

  Her belly was full of the stuff as they indulged in some silly comedy movie she’d never seen before. Empty wine glasses sat on the coffee table before them. He’d even dropped a strawberry in each glass. He was so damn romantic… and it wasn’t forced. It seemed to come to him naturally. He’d lit several candles that smelled like sea breeze, and he kept the kisses coming.

  This of course hadn’t been an uneventful night… Before he’d made the buttery snack and they’d settled to unwind, the prior hours were nothing short of ridiculous, wrought with tension and silly creative differences. She soon realized he couldn’t help himself, that he seemed hellbent on torturing her, poking the bear so she’d do his bidding. It was one big game to him. After a while, she simply rolled her eyes at the man as he went off about this, that, and the third.

  “That’s not how the lyrics go… you made that up!”

  “Tapestry, I wish you would stop channeling Patti Labelle and Aretha Franklin and just sing the song…”

  “Now you’re tryna be funny… you’re just hummin’ and whistlin’ and bein’ silly…”

 
Sometimes she complied with his wishes, sometimes she didn’t. She chose her battles. It was crystal clear that this man took his craft very seriously. The bottom line was, they both did – only their methods to reach their final destinations were vastly different. She had to be honest, however. The man was making a decent income of this – and he was well known in New Orleans. She’d found out that tidbit from Grace. That woman did more digging than a damn clam, with her nosey ass. Regardless, Cain wasn’t playin’ around but she now was convinced he was gettin’ hot and bothered from her reactions. She caught him smirking when she’d flown off the handle. Bastard. She let bygones be bygones. Right now, there was no war… only love.

  He draped his arm around her and pulled her close, then wrapped his legs around hers, pinning her to him like some crab with a tasty morsel. She felt so safe and secure in his strong, muscular arms, and he smelled divine. Long, black strands of hair sprawled on the throw pillow behind his head and then of course there were always those big blue eyes that she could just drown in…

  She slowly closed her eyes as he ran his fingers lightly through her hair, no doubt messing up the half up, half down hairstyle she’d painstakingly created.

  “What are you thinkin’ about?” she asked, smiling.

  All she saw was darkness behind her closed lids, but the rise and fall of his chest, his heart beat, the smell of his skin and hair, and the way he held her sent her imagination into overdrive.

  “Honestly?” His deep voice made her insides rumble.

  “Yeah, honestly.”

  “Makin’ love to you, baby… that’s what I’m thinkin’ about.” She slowly opened her eyes and peered at the man. He didn’t look slick or sleazy; he looked earnest. He wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t frowning, but he looked friendly enough. “What do you think about that?” He kept stroking her hair like he was playing a guitar… pluck… pluck… pluck…

  “I think that uh… that sounds fine.”

  He swallowed as he stared into her eyes, then a few seconds later, reached for the remote and turned the television off. Without another word, he rose from the couch and took her hand to lead her down the hall to what she presumed was his bedroom. With a flick of the light, he stepped inside and she followed close behind.

  “This is nice. Your whole place is nice. It’s different, too.” She ran her fingertips along her collarbone as she took in his gorgeous large bed with intricately carved wooden posts, and all the bright, colorful wall tapestries and beads that hung from the walls. A large window was adorned with a deep, rich green curtain and in the corner was a bookshelf full of CDs, an old record player and a stack of LPs.

  “Thank you… I know everything ain’t for everybody, but I like it.” He ran his hand across his forehead as if he’d forgotten to do something and was trying to recall what, but then he disappeared inside his bright blue bathroom, leaving the door hanging half open. “Tapestry…”

  “Yes?” She stood there, not sure what to do with herself.

  “If you need anything, let me know. Just relax and, uh, I’ll be out in a second.”

  “All right.” And then, he gently closed the bathroom door. Several minutes later, she was in her underwear—her worst set. She’d had no intention of gettin’ it in with Cain when he’d invited her over for a rehearsal session. She’d naively thought they’d just practice, then she’d kiss him a time or two and drive back home.

  That was silly, girl. The first date shoulda been proof of what was to come. We couldn’t stay away from one another and we probably have racked up over a hundred texts now between the two of us… and look what time it is? He told me this would be over in no time flat and now it’s two in the damn mornin’. I’m in these mismatched funny lookin’ panties with the lace half gone on one side and this frumpy plain ass bra that makes my tits look nice but it’s like somethin’ my grandmama would wear! Breasts too big for Victoria’s Secret, but I pay big money for my bras and lingerie and the one time I just throw on this old thing, he wanna screw. Ain’t that just typical?!

  She smiled to herself, then burst out laughing.

  On second thought, let me take this shit off ’fore he sees it… He might get buyer’s remorse if he see me sittin’ here lookin’ like somethin’ the dog dragged in…

  She slid the bra off and cast it on the floor, and the granny panties followed. She pulled the covers up to her damn neck, then tugged them lower just a bit past her shoulders. At last, the bathroom door opened and out stepped a naked man that made her pause. She literally gasped.

  Look.

  At.

  His.

  DICK!

  Her mouth salivated at the sight of the curved, long, thick muscle.

  Cain was tall, broad shouldered, and fuckin’ sexy as hell. From the bastard’s chest down to his knees were tattoos all over the damn place. He smiled at her and chuckled as he drew closer, then slid into the bed next to her. He rolled over on top of her without wasting a moment with pillow talk. Hooking his arm behind her head, he looked into her eyes, then kissed her. She returned his passion, wrapping her arms and thighs around his narrow waist. They grinded slow and sexily against one another, their gaze hooked like a silver clasp to a regretful fish. After a while, he rose up on his hands and looked down at her, surveying her body like it was a fine meal.

  “How’d I get so damn lucky… Girl, you got enough breasts to feed a small village. For just two titties a day, you can feed a starvin’ man named Cain.” She chuckled at his words then rolled her eyes and sighed as the hungry heat of his mouth engulfed her right nipple. He hummed and moaned as he sucked her titties, and he wouldn’t turn them loose. Cain massaged and caressed them as he grinded against her, his big cock hard and erect, bumping against her wetlands. She’d never seen someone delight in breasts like he did; she found it a bit humorous, sensual, and sweet all in one.

  “You’re obviously a breast man.”

  Finally, he came up for air and sucked along the side of her neck.

  “I am… love me some big ol’ biddies!” They smiled at one another, but after a while he drew serious. “You on anything?”

  “Yeah. Got condoms, too. I keep ’em in my purse.”

  “I got my own.”

  With a sigh, he rose off her, reached over to his nightstand, and picked up a Magnum wrapper. As he opened it, he looked at her, magic in those big blue eyes… mysteries brewing, no doubt. He tore into it with his teeth and spit the torn piece across the room. She kept looking into his eyes as he sheathed himself, his body moving under the sheets.

  “If I do somethin’ you don’t like, just tell me. I like to eat pussy… you cool with that?” His lips curled in a twisted grin.

  She nodded as the man slowly drifted down her body. In seconds flat, she was moaning and purring, his tongue an instrument of beauty and perfection.

  “Wanted to know what dis mouth do, huh?” He laughed between sucks and licks of her clit. Wrapping his arms around her thick thighs, he tugged her impossibly closer. “I can more than just sing wit’ dis tongue, songbird… I can make music wit’ it in more ways than one. Mmmm, your pussy tastes good, baby! What song is this pussy singin’ for ol’ Cain tonight, suga?”

  She shuddered beneath him as he sucked her all the harder, then slid two fingers inside her, knuckle deep.

  “Mmmm, that feels so good, baby!” she cooed.

  “I’m so glad I’m turnin’ you on… makin’ you feel nice, songbird. I wanna make you cum, so take your time, I’ll get you there… just enjoy the ride. I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and you can best believe, neither are you until I get you off.”

  She shuddered at his words, then exploded, a million crescent moons dancing before her eyes. She felt his strong hold on her as he finger-fucked her harder and sucked on her clit like his life depended on it. Her thighs were sticky with her appreciation; her pussy cried a thousand grateful tears. Never in her life had a man eaten her like that… eaten her alive! Damn, he was good. As her body continued to tremble
, he cradled her in his arms and rocked her. She delighted in such a sweet gesture, especially when he layered her face with kisses.

  “I want to taste your dick…”

  His eyes wide with surprise, he turned on his back. She drifted low beneath the covers, unable to see him. In her own little hideaway, she looked at his stomach and taut abs, at the detailed tattoos that were etched all along his flesh, then ran her fingers along the dark trail of hair that led to the curved holy grail. With a flick of her tongue, she kissed and orally caressed the head of his dick. The latex didn’t stop her fun; it only challenged her to suck him all the harder.

  “Girl… shit!”

  He began to buck his pelvis as she deep throated his cock, all of those gorgeous inches he had to offer now under her jurisDICKtion. She could feel her hair unravelling from the bun she’d arranged it in, but paid that no mind. She greedily took him in, his erection long and strong… just like him. When he seemed as if he couldn’t take much more, she journeyed back up and straddled him.

  “Mmmm, baby…. yes… you know what I want!”

  He grunted as she rose up, took hold of his cock, and worked her saturated pussy along his length until she was flush on his thighs. She rode him slow, then fast, then slow and fast again, teasing him, torturing him. Rubbing her clit against his pelvis bone at each pass, she worked herself into an orgasmic frenzy and soon found herself in a state of climatic emergency. He grabbed her tightly around the waist and pushed himself inside of her, mercilessly beating her pussy up with record speed.

  “Take that dick, baby! Damn, I love it… You uh mothafuckin’ champ!” He groaned.

  He held her tight, his big, rough hands gripping her thighs. The curve of his cock made her eyes roll in the back of her head. She recalled years ago how she’d encountered a guy with a curve similar to Cain’s. Initially, she’d found the sight of it off-putting, but it hadn’t taken long for her to be converted from a skeptic to convinced. The curve was where the fuck it was at! She couldn’t believe it but she was cumming again. From her toes to her head, she buzzed with electricity and light.