by Zuri Day
“That’s very exciting. My guy over there who coaches the program is very good at what he does. If anybody can put your brother on the right path, the coach can.”
They ended up at the movies, checking out a flick that the week before had gotten rave reviews. It was a romantic comedy, something Doug had balked at but in the end had totally enjoyed.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Jan said on their way out.
“You were right. I told you I enjoyed it.” Once outside, he asked her, “How about we grab a meal?”
“After all that junk food we ate in there? Between the popcorn, nachos, candy, and those gallon drinks you brought us . . . I can’t eat another bite.”
“Do you play pool?”
“No.”
“Do you dance? I could take you to my club.”
“A club?” Jan’s expression was dubious.
“My motorcycle club, the Ace Imperials. They turn it up on the weekends, but they’re all good guys.”
“I’ve never been that into clubs. Maybe another time.”
“It’s too early for me to take you home. What about a drink . . . at my house?”
Jan was silent for so long Doug began to wonder if he’d heard her. But just as he got ready to repeat the question, he got his answer.
“Okay.”
He smiled, reached for her hand, and walked to his car.
21
He set his iPod to hip-hop music before heading out of the theater’s parking garage. “I don’t have any liquor at the house. What do you drink?”
“I’m not much of a drinker. When I do it’s chardonnay.”
“That’s white wine, right?”
“Yes.”
“What does it taste like?”
“Kinda sweet, fruity.”
“A girlie drink.”
“Ask a woman what’s she drinking and her answer just might be a girlie drink.”
“There goes that argument gene working again.” He looked over in time to catch Jan’s smile before she forced it away.
They stopped at a store near Doug’s house, spent a while in the wine aisle discussing choices and then over to the meat section where Doug informed Jan she was going to cook him a steak.
“How do you figure I’m coming over to your house to fix you dinner? I’m not cooking anything.”
Doug went stone-faced. “It’s either cook, clean, or make love, woman. Now, which one are you going to do for me tonight?”
It took a whole five seconds for Jan’s shock to wear off. Once it did, her answer was simple and very clear. “You need to take me home.”
She glared at him.
He stared back.
It was a showdown worthy of the O.K. Corral happening between the chardonnays and the pinot blancs.
Doug clenched his teeth, balled his hands into fists, and began breathing heavy.
“Never mind,” Jan said, reaching for her phone. “I’m calling a cab.” She spun around and headed toward the front of the store.
“Bwahahaha!” Doug erupted. “Jan, wait!” He was laughing so hard he could barely catch up with her. He finally did, and grabbed her arm. “Girl, wait,” he said, almost doubled over. “You should know my talking like that was a joke.”
She crossed her arms. “Didn’t sound like a joke to me.”
“I could tell,” he replied, wiping joyful tears from his eyes. “Man, if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. Remind me to never cross you. The results could be lethal.”
“Doug, I don’t like to play around like that.”
“You sure as hell don’t.” He adopted her tone and her stance. “You need to take me home. Now! Never mind, muthafucka,” he continued, a hand on his hip and his voice even higher. “I’ll call me a muthafuckin’ cab.”
Jan’s mouth began to quiver with the first M.F. By the second over-ghetto-fied profanity, she could no longer contain the laughter. It spilled out of her mouth, down her body, and straight into her heart.
“You are a straight-up fool.”
“Whew, girl, you make you laugh.” Doug reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away. They began walking to the meat section.
“No, you made yourself laugh.”
“Don’t mess with Jan Baker. She’ll cut you with her tongue.”
“I did not sound like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I did not. Nor did I curse.”
He looked at her. “You wanted to.”
She slid her eyes in his direction, suppressing laughter. “I sure did.”
The easy banter was back as Doug paid for their purchases and they drove the short distance to his home. “I apologize now if there are any drawers on the floor. I wasn’t expecting company.”
She just shook her head and as he stepped back walked inside his apartment.
It was clean, almost immaculate.
Another side eye as she looked around. “Nice place, Doug.” She took in the tasteful black and tan furniture, large flat-screen on the wall with video game paraphernalia on the console below it, Raider memorabilia scattered about, pictures of who she assumed was his family, and beyond the living/dining combination a kitchen with not one dish out of place. “This looks like you.”
“Thank you.” He walked into the kitchen and placed the grocery sack on the counter. “I hope these tumblers will do,” he said as he pulled two short ones from the cabinet. “I don’t have wineglasses.”
“That’s fine.” She entered the kitchen. “And not too much for me. Just half a glass.”
“Do you mind opening it and pouring while I fix my steak?”
“You’re really going to cook? It’s eleven o’clock!”
“Baby, my stomach don’t care what time it is. I’m hungry!”
“Why didn’t you just go through a drive-through for a burger?”
“I started to,” he said, pulling out a cast-iron skillet, oil, and spices. “But when we stopped at the store I figured to get a steak. It’s easy to fix, doesn’t take long, and tastes better than any burger I could have gotten.”
Jan watched him pour a small amount of oil in the skillet that set over a high flame before shaking a variety of spices on the meat and rubbing them in.
“You act like you know what you’re doing.”
“I’d better, since you won’t cook me dinner.”
“That’s right. I’m not going to clean your house either.” Said saucily, hands on hips, with a look that dared him to challenge her.
Doug stopped, took in Jan’s spread-leg stance and haughty countenance. He was sure she had no idea how sexy that attitude made her look. He allowed his eyes a slow journey from the lips spouting all of that bravado nonsense, down the front of the sweater pulled over her girls, over the hips that put an hourglass to shame, down to the black leather ankle boots that complemented the black and white sweater, stretch jeans, and jewelry she wore to perfection, then slowly made his way back up to her eyes. “That’s no problem.”
Jan’s comment had been delivered with obvious fire. But Doug’s reaction—quiet, subtle, barely five seconds long—was a lethal comeback that made Jan hotter than the steak now sizzling in the cast-iron skillet.
Conversation was sparse as she watched him expertly finish cooking, letting the steak rest while he pulled a package of salad out of the fridge and a bag of chips from the counter.
“Would you care to join me for this late-night . . . snack . . . Ms. Baker.” His eyes suggested there were many ways to take the question.
So did her answer. “I think I will, Mr. Carter. Watching how you handled that . . . meat . . . has worked up quite an appetite.”
Bypassing the dining room table, Doug led them to the living room couch. Using his remote, he turned on the TV to a music channel playing seventies and eighties hits. They sat shoulder to shoulder, bobbing their heads to the likes of Earth, Wind & Fire, the Whispers, After 7, and Johnny Gill, while eating Doug’s perfectly medium-well-done steaks. Each bite was tender, juic
y, and seasoned just right. And even though the chips were plain and the salad basic, the level of his cooking made them taste better, too.
Jan set her plate on the coffee table and picked up a napkin.
“Wow, Doug, that steak was really good.”
He pointedly looked at her cleaned plate. “I can tell.” They laughed. “And this from a woman who questioned my even cooking at this time of night.”
“I didn’t think I was hungry, but . . .”
The way he looked at her made her forget what she was going to say next.
“Coming into my kitchen made you change your mind?”
“Sure did.” Her eyes dropped to his lips. Funny, but she didn’t remember them looking so yummy. Were they always like that?
He set down his finished plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin as well before picking up and finishing his half glass of wine. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I really did.” She finished her wine. “How’d you learn to cook so well?”
“My mama, Liz Carter. She can throw down, and made sure that all of her sons knew enough about cooking to not leave home and starve or exist solely on fast food.”
“So at the store you really were kidding when you demanded I come here and cook.”
“I told you I was.”
Looking around, she continued. “And about cleaning your house.”
“Uh-huh.”
They looked into each other’s eyes as the Isley Brothers suggested that it wasn’t yet time to say good night.
“So, Jan.” He placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Since you enjoyed my steak so much, I’m wondering if I can talk you into dessert.”
She wrapped an arm around his waist, rested her head against him. “Probably, and it would be a short conversation.”
Doug placed his finger beneath her chin and lifted her lips to his. The air fairly crackled as skin touched skin and tongues quickly darted from their oral caves to become better acquainted.
“Umm,” Doug moaned, shifting his body for better access to her thickness. Jan said nothing, only followed his lead.
It was said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. It looked like Doug was about to prove that the reverse was also true.
22
The kisses turned from tender to intense. Doug slipped his hand beneath Jan’s sweater and stroked her ample breasts. He ran his hand over her stomach and across the waistband of her jeans. Jan’s hand moved from Doug’s back to his neck, pressing his lips even tighter against hers, dipping her tongue even farther inside his hot, wet mouth. The fruity notes of the chardonnay still played on both their tongues. They were feeling drunk in love, and not from those half glasses of wine now gone.
Doug pulled his lips from Jan’s. She followed, not ready for the kisses to end.
“I need to taste more of you,” he whispered, his breathing getting more labored. “I need to put my hands all over that lusciousness, girl.”
Jan sat up and moaned. “Somebody please stop me from doing what I said I wouldn’t.”
He reached for the hem of her sweater and effortlessly pulled it over her head. “Baby, you can’t stop what hasn’t even gotten started.” His gaze was fastened on her globes spilling over the cups. He tapped the bra. “Take that off.”
She obeyed.
He sucked in a breath. “Damn! You’re about to make a brother break his own rule!” He rolled his thumb over her nipple, watching it harden and goose bumps form. “Beautiful.” Bending his head, he gently sucked her plumpness into his mouth while his fingers worked magic on her other soft globe.
The combined actions made Jan shiver and unable to think. That must have been it. Why else would she lift her body up, reach for the waistband of her stretch jeans, and begin pulling them down before he’d even asked her?
The move worked for Doug. He stood and reached out a hand. “I think we need to take this party to the bedroom.”
“Do you have condoms?” He nodded and turned to lead them into his bedroom. Like the living room it was tastefully decorated, orderly, and neat.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Jan said.
“Me either,” Doug countered.
This exchange as panties joined boxers, jeans, and tops in a pile by the bed, the room lit only by the light cast off from the living room lamp and the glow of the streetlight through the partially opened blinds.
Jan climbed into the bed.
Doug followed. “You move fast, girl. I didn’t even get a chance to really check you out.”
“That was the plan.”
“I know you’re not self-conscious about all that juicy you’re rocking. Girl, don’t believe the hype they’re selling on TV and in those magazines. Skinny girls are cool and all, but a sistah with some fatback will make a man like me lose his absolute mind.”
Jan giggled.
“You think I’m lying?”
“No, I just never thought my being compared to fatback would make me smile.”
“Come here, you.” He pulled her to him so they were completely skin-to-skin, ran his hand down her middle, and stroked the top of her paradise. “I’ve got something else to make that smile grow.”
Jan reached for Doug’s dick. It was shorter than she’d imagined, but thick and curved. She wrapped her fingers around it and pulled gently, ran her fingers up and down its length, and caressed his sac. “My smile isn’t the only thing that’s growing,” she said.
In answer Doug rolled on top of her and seared her with another kiss. He ground his hips against hers, the evidence of his excitement pressed against her stomach. She ran her hands down his back and squeezed his butt. She liked that he, too, had a little extra cushion for the pushing, which she was ready to get under way. She bent and spread her legs, hoping he’d get the message.
He did.
Breaking the kiss, he slid his tongue down her neck, nipping and kissing the skin between there and the pillows he loved so much. He lavished each nipple once again before continuing on down her stomach and lower, to her heat. While licking the rectangular patch of hair at the top of her flower, he slid a finger down its seam and slipped it inside.
Jan squirmed, her head tossing this way and that against the pillow. It had been so long. Doug felt so good. She felt a blast of air as he parted her folds and exposed her love button. He taunted and teased it before imparting the most delicious of nether French kisses. Out of control, she swirled her hips beneath the onslaught of lovemaking, grabbed the sheets, and tried not to scream. But as he continued his relentless sucking and licking, she couldn’t contain the enthusiasm from the melody Doug’s tongue played on her pussy. Her mewling started low and built in volume as an orgasm began at the core of her soul and spread through her body.
“Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness! Doug!” she exclaimed before a mind-blowing climax sent her tumbling into an erotic abyss. Just when she thought she’d lose her mind completely, she felt Doug’s encore touch the tip of her instrument, felt her walls stretch and invite him in. He quickly set up a rhythm and she just as quickly caught on and matched him note for sensuous note. A one-orgasm woman all her life, she was determined to give him equal pleasure. No one was more surprised than her when the tip of his curved shaft hit her seldom touched G-spot and sent her hurtling over the edge again. It happened once more before Doug directed her to her knees and went in from behind. He placed a hand on each generous hip, rubbed the baby-soft skin beneath his fingers as he stroked the hot, wet flesh around his shaft. Over and over he twisted his hips, tapping her spot and making her already satiated body shiver with each swivel, each thrust, each knead of her cheeks. Until finally he clasped her hips and increased the pace. With a quick intake of breath and a “damn, yeah, damn” chant, he, too, went over the edge.
It was several moments into the silence and their cuddling when he told her, “Girl, that’s the best dessert this brother has ever had.”
She yawned, already nearly asle
ep. “Me too.”
The next morning, Jan awoke to Doug eyeing her intently. It was kind of freaky and kind of nice at the same time.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just watching you sleep. You have a cute snore.”
Jan sat up. “I do not snore.”
“Not when you’re awake. But when you’re sleeping, like a minute ago, you put ’em down, baby. I gave you quite a workout last night, ended that drought. It’s understandable you’d sleep deeply. No need to feel shame.”
“I can’t even respond to that.”
“Truth stands on its own.”
“Whatever. I know I don’t snore.”
“I’ll record you next time.”
“That sure of yourself are you?”
“What? That you snore?”
“No, that there will be a next time.”
“That was just a figure of speech, Jan Baker. I enjoyed myself last night.” He sat up beside her, waited for a response but got none. “What about you?”
“Earlier I was trying to remember the last time I’d felt the way I did last night.” She looked at him. “I don’t think it’s ever happened. And I know I never had so many orgasms before.” She looked at him. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. You already think you’re the man.”
Instead of a sarcastic comeback he was surprisingly tender. He ran a finger down her arm and gazed at her sincerely. “Nothing wrong with admitting that you had a good time, and that I pleased you. It’s good to hear that. I think that sometimes women take it for granted that a man is confident and sure of himself and his skills. I understand that part of that comes from the swagger suit that we wear to protect ourselves against the world. That’s why we don’t always say it, but we brothers are sometimes just as vulnerable and unsure of ourselves as you women are. So it’s good to hear you say . . . that you liked dessert.”
Jan gazed at Doug intently before reaching for a pillow and positioning it behind her back. “I liked it a lot.” She glanced at him before looking away. “I liked spending time with you. There was something about it that was easy and comfortable . . . like it wasn’t our first time. I wasn’t nervous or self-conscious. Okay, at first I was. But not after everything started. I just gave in to the moment. That’s unusual for me.”