by Amarie Avant
Her exit is reluctant. “I'm leaving, Tino.”
I wave her off for calling me by that nickname.
She's giddy and smiley, while leisurely opening the door. “If I leave, I'm not coming back! That's a promise. Get what I’m sayin’?”
I chuckle under my breath and sip my scotch. Then I hear a very jealous response which is not from Isabella’s alter ego.
“Good. You should leave,” Reese says.
Isabella's long, model legs almost stumble as she turns around. She's good and fucking drunk. So there'll be scratches if need be, all the while donning a super tight, short Versace mini no less.
“Listen you little bi–”
“Okay, okay,” I hightail it across the room.
“Isabella Zaccaro, meet Reese Dunham.”
“Reese? Oh fuck, you're family!” The cuss is stifled as Isabella pulls Reese into a hug. I notice the embarrassment creep up Reese's face before she's drawn into my cousin’s bosoms. Clothing is like a bug repellent to Isabella. However, my cousin has saved me from having to sleep with a stalker-ish female more times than I can count.
Funny, I haven't bedded the same lady repeatedly since being in high school. The one I'm drawn to day and night just so happens to now be my stepsister.
“Look, I didn't mean anything by that, alright?” Isabella says in her strong accent. “Moved to the East Coast to be near the rest of the fam and I hardly see the friggen brat,” she says of me. “I'm territorial with the fam, and I thought you were just some broad. But you're the fucking family!” She's still holding Reese at arm’s length.
“Oh, it was my fault really. Bad day, so I’m testy for no reason,” Reese tries as Isabella drags her inside.
“Don't be a good for nothing brat, capiche?” Isabella gestures toward me. “You just heard Reese say she’s had a bad day. Get your sis a drink, be useful for once. Reese, he's not accustomed to having brothers or sisters. We gotta train em, eh?”
“Yeah,” Reese mumbles, gaze gliding over mine. I want to pull her into my arms, hold her close and tell her everything will be okay. No wait, why is she in the dumps? I want to beat the shit outta whoever has made her feel this way.
Since she doesn't decline the drink, I begin to the wet bar. I've been taking orders from my older, girl cousins since I was three. It's either comply or endure the wrath of their mouthpiece.
“You got any real siblings?” Isabella asks as they start for the couch.
“No,” Reese says. She mumbles her thanks for the double shot I've handed over.
“Well, look, I'm only in town for a while. I'm sure Uncle Tony's gonna have a party 'fore I go. If he doesn't, don’t tell any of my other cousins, though, but the brat here is my favorite cousin. We’ll eat something. Lunch. Dinner. Fuck it, breakfast if we run outta time, but you’re family. Tonight I'm going to The Powerhouse. You don’t look up to it, but you wanna go?”
See, the mouthpiece. Isabella has gone from topic to topic, to conclusion back to speculation.
“No clubs for me tonight,” Reese says, and then she quickly takes a look at me before giving Isabella all her attention again.
“Alright, mama’s looking too damn good not to go.” Isabella coifs her huge hair. “If you're feeling up to it later, get the brat to swing by too. Feels like I'm losing my party buddy here,” she gestures toward me.
“Between you and I,” she leans closer to Reese ready to lay on the gossip, “I think the brat’s got himself a main squeeze or something. Valentino’s even brattier than ever and hell bent on being a friggen couch potato. A friggen couch potato,” she repeats to herself, shaking her head, “in Armani. What a waste, eh?”
“Yes, it is.” Reese softly gnaws her bottom lip.
My cock goes into overdrive. I want to fuck her sideways but the moment Isabella shuts up and finally leaves, I find myself in the wrong position. Being more of a confidant than what’s displayed on the cards for us. There's a tension in the air as I opt on asking what's wrong.
“Sheesh, I really put my foot into my mouth,” Reese says, shaking her head. “Your cousin is nice, though. I shouldn't have come over here unannounced, Evan.”
“You're welcome here anytime you like, Reese. You want a key, you got it.”
She shakes her head, eyes instantly tearing up though I was joking. “I don't need a key. I don't need to be here trying to confide in… you.”
I kneel before Reese, grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the couch. Yet giving her a pick-me-up, doesn't cross my mind. My only endeavor is for her to understand that I'll be there for her.
My eyes must say it all because Reese turns away.
My thumb clasps her jawline and I train Reese's gaze back to mine.
“So your father is going to have some sort of family reunion soon?”
I shrug. I still haven't had that talk with Tony. The one where I appeal to the man who once loved my mother and not the new disassociated, horn dog he's become. Lolita seems nice and all, but they can’t be together.
“Then everyone will know us as stepbrother and stepsister, Evan.” She shakes the notion out of her head. “Look, I didn't come here for that. Besides, I’ve known you less than a friggen month, so it honestly doesn’t matter.”
My entire being tenses as Reese minimizes us. “Okay, shoot. I'm all ears.”
Her usual apricot skin tone is dull, and her white teeth grab hold of her pink bottom lip, sinking into its perfect plumpness.
“Let's take a walk.”
Reese glances out the window. “It's dark, dreary,” she mumbles, lackluster.
“I'll grab one of my jackets for you. And you know without a doubt, you're safe in my arms.”
“Alright, but we have other means of a workout we could be doing.” A loud roar of a laugh takes over as I meander toward the walk-in closet. “Have I ever let you down in that department?” I finally quip, what the fuck is wrong with me? I should screw her into submission. Fuck the sadness from her mind until she's left with one thought as usual: my dick.
“Touché,” she replies, attempting to brighten her spirits.
As I pull a wool coat from the rack, the thought hits me like a bullet to my Teflon chest. That shock and all of that shit never gets old. It's because I keep going back to her. Sex with Reese makes me want more sex with her… And even more than that…
It's a damp, wet March evening, we venture down Main Street and end up at the Downtown Art Walk where not only are there many art galleries to step inside of, but the downtown streets have become art in itself.
Reese and I stop in front of one gallery, boasting a Tokyo style of art. The red, rock walls have become a mural surrounding the door. And though I can't tell what the images are, the bright painting beacons me toward it. Bright indicates happy, something in me yearns for Reese to be happy in my presence… just because.
“Shall we,” I gesture.
“Sure,” she shrugs, and I open the door.
Inside, the room is flooded in light. The ceiling is all old railroad tracks, and pillars. Long wires allow for low-hanging bright light bulbs. Some even dip so low as to add an additional glow to the paintings. Every color ever created is splashed against one canvas or another, none of which are streamline hung but all over the place in no particular order.
Reese stands at one wall. She's silent for a moment, as she observes the canvas of a few splashes in a bright orange and blue hue. While she stares, I take in every inch of her.
Her shoulders aren't as fragile as they were earlier, clearly the frigid night air has helped with that. Her nose has a touch of pink to it, she's still cold. My fingers glide into her hands, though she's wearing a pair of my leather gloves that are bunched around her wrists and still makes her fingertips appear long and droopy.
“Tell me what I'm seeing,” she says, then places a hand over her mouth to hide a lopsided grin.
“Beautiful, if I could, I would.”
“Hey,” Reese chides, “you've got the upbr
inging, you're supposed to be enlightening me.”
“Honestly, my mother’s art gene was never mine for the taking, though she tried. I really was the brat Isabella always refers to me as. Wish I could go back, and give mom all the attention as she went into great detail over just one brush stroke. And dad, shit, he was sent by family from home, Cosenza, to invest wisely. That's the extent to my knowledge” I chuckle. I lean into her, “this stuff is too eclectic to even wing it.”
Her laughter is raw, loud, and draws eyes where everyone was accustomed to hushed tones. I usher her out, as people stare.
“Oh sheesh, I'm an embarrassment.” Reese continues to laugh.
Condensation puffing out around her lips, I want to kiss her now, but retort, “The fuck you are, they're just some confused assholes. No need to be embarrassed.”
“Honestly, you're the first real laugh I've had today.” As she says the words, the clarity of her dark-brown eyes increases, and begins to water.
“This afternoon I had to lay off my employee, Luis.”
I haven't looked into Miss Dunham since my initial conversation with Patel. Then again that was just me wanting to look up a wild, young woman I had amazing sex with in order to repeat. We’ve banged a hundred times over, and I still haven’t gotten Reese out of my system.
I didn't perform my usual background that I've done when pops seemed semi-serious about a broad. Heck, I don’t even know what Tony was doing in Vegas. He’s been content. I've yet to ask Reese what happened with her parents, which is always just the icebreaker and easiest way to know the woman who’s captivated Tony's heart. I don't know anything about Lolita. And as far as I know, Flour is a classy little bakery, with a colorful array of employees.
“Why'd you lay him off?” I ask after a moment, heading back in the direction we came. I notice with myself not providing eye contact, she has an easier time responding.
She totters, leaning her head against my shoulder and my arm wraps around her like we've been doing this for years.
Reese says, “Flour isn’t doing so hot.”
Though Reese’s face is a beautiful flurry of frustration, I wonder. Hmmm. Her money woes can't be associated with Lolita? The woman has to be at least ten years younger than Tony. As a man who prefers to wear a nicer grade of clothing, I know Reese's mother has a stronger taste for designer items than my father who grew up with an infinite amount of capital. But this isn't about my pops and her mother. This is about a woman I refuse to see cry.
I listen as she tells me about ‘Nook’, a new breakfast-joint, that was never resurrected off the ground. I passed the dirt plot on a few occasions. It would have made a prime location because now the construction indicates that McDonalds will be opening in its stead.
She gives a wry smile, as we make it across from my building.
I stand before her, though it seems ingrained in her brain to run at the thought of verbalizing her problems, I tip her chin. “You can tell me anything, beautiful.”
Our eye connection wavers. She's mentally processing if I've given a false truth. Suffering from a minor case of ADHD, Reese stops to watch a car cruise by, with too many damn teenagers hanging out the windows. I see this all from the corner of my eyes, but my gaze is locked onto her face in an attempt to reassure her that not only are we having sex, we can have a real conversation. Not to say that we didn't the first night, it was just, Reese tossed the ball in my court so much her true beauty has yet to blossom before me.
Reese licks her lips and says, “So far, I’ve been robbing Peter to pay Paul. Can’t determine how to rob them both. I can’t dig myself out of this hole,” she murmurs, looking away. Reese isn’t comfortable.
My mouth skims over a river of tears flowing down Reese's cheeks. She's a good one. As a behavioral analyst, I know she's thought about all the dynamics of having to fire one of her workers. She's empathically placed herself in Luis's shoes. And no doubt, laying him off was the last resort after much deliberation.
I want to ask how far behind Reese is. But her mouth blooms for me. My tongue delves into the sweetness she has to offer.
My palm slides to the center of Reese's breast. Her heartbeat is skyrocketing, beating wildly against my fingertips, as she moans into me
My cock has decided that I've taken over for far too long. So I do what I do best, and say in a voice deep with sex, “Let me get you inside.”
Reese licks her lips and nods.
The next few moments are quick, somehow I've managed a barbarian-like reply to the doorman’s hello, and Reese has too.
“Hold the elevator!” My command is much too harsh, but the twenty- something, in a Togos work shirt gets my drift, and places his hand between the elevator doors before they can close.
“Thanks.” Reese is all smiles as we hop inside with him. She pushes me to arm’s length, and mouths, “As soon as he gets off…”
I don't wanna wait, but the kid’s one level lower than my place so we wait.
Once we step over the threshold, it's all fuck faces and kissing. Jeans that fit like a glove and usually keep my vision drawn to her sexy ass, begin to irk me. I snap the button off the front of her tight jeans. Reese pushes them down, with one heel clamped over the other. She gets the ultra-tight pants off before sliding down again. My cock pops out of my pants and stands to attention.
I lift up Reese's leg. Standing before me on one foot, Reese slides straight down onto my shaft. The ease of it. The tight-ass fit. The slippery goodness. Fuck if I don't want to explode in her right now.
“Shit, shit,” she pants, “right there, Evan, right there!”
I grunt into her hair, force my toes underneath so as not to cave and explode inside of her. We fuck like rabbits in this position until Reese's pussy has glossed my cock with her come.
She melts into me. Barely able to stand on her left leg. Her warm breath cooling my chest.
“C’mon, Reese's Pieces, I'm not done with you yet.” I kiss the top of her head.
“Please don't stop fucking me, Evan, never stop,” she murmurs against my skin.
As she gathers her breath, I grab her waist. With a renewed energy, her legs fly around me. Biceps braced, feet planted wide, I pump her up and down.
She rocks her hips as I once more take to her mouth. While clinging to me for life, Reese grinds on me with such an erotic, slow movement. I groan in her ear. Those shiny eyes are no longer wet with tears but glimmering with need.
I’m so fucking addicted to the pussy, I was ready to release in that instant. “You're not turning me out,” I mutter inaudibly, placing my arm around her waist and pulling us down to the fur rug below.
On top, I gain leverage and am the maker of my own destiny—i.e., not coming in record-time. The silky, wetness of her insides has my dick harder than it's ever been. I quicken my pace.
“Evan! Fuck me!” Reese begins to buck; her hips lift to meet the force of my thrusts. One of her hands grips the fur, the other claws at my ass begging for the pain. I slap away her hand, taking control once more.
“Turn over.” I slip out. Reese whimpers.
“Now,” I growl, erection dripping with her sweets.
Reese does as she is told. That round, curvy ass of hers tilts in the air. My hand digs through her wavy hair, to the back of her neck, applying a bit of pressure. Reese's face lowers onto the fur. The swell of her pussy now has my mouth watering as her buttocks are tilted toward the sky. My hand slaps hard at Reese's bottom. Hard enough to leave a handprint. But my cock plunges inside her at the same instant. The pain is washed out and she has to be seeing stars as she cusses and begs once more. Fingers clawing into her butt cheek I slam in. Out. In. Out.
Sex can’t take away the pain and worry she’s going through, but I’d be damned if I’m not going to try. Reese begins to meet my thrust, ass slapping against my balls. I smack her ass once more. Then my fingers dig into her hair again, instead of gripping the back of her neck I yank. The arch her back makes, forces me to grunt i
n ultimate pleasure as her walls clench the fuck outta my cock. After a quick slam, I pull out once more.
“Evan,” Reese replies tersely.
“Shhh, beautiful.” I glance into her eyes, red rimmed though no longer teary. Her nose still has a pinkish-hue and it's not from lack of warmth.
“I’m okay,” she tries.
“Not at the moment, but you will be.” I stand up. At this instant I realize, slamming my cock in her pussy, and filling her body with my come isn’t my primary goal to take the pain away. The walk was just the beginning… The beginning implies a future.
Feelings I never thought possible, not at this moment in my life spark. I’m a man, whose sole focus is no longer just on my career. As a Narc detective, love can be a dangerous thing.
We’ve jumped straight into hard water and Reese is unaware. I don’t know which is scarier, her fear of falling in love or my fear of an enemy using that to his advantage. Egocentrism won’t allow me to give a damn and fuck her delirious because I care more about her ‘bad day’ at this moment than anything else.
Reese takes my hand, believing in my confidence, she arises before me.
My hand skims the small of her back, pulling her closer to my chest. “You’ve had a bad day, Reese.”
Her eyes close momentarily, bottom lip bitten down on.
“And I really want to be there for you, Reese. We’ve known each other all of twenty-something days, but there’s no denying this connection we have.” I say, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, to which she sighs. “You don’t have to tell me everything now…” I pause, feeling her soft body tense just slightly. “For now, I’ll be the man you need until you’re ready.”
Her eyes open, brown orbs shining. It’s almost as if asking, “Ready for what” is at the tip of her tongue, but she’s just too afraid to speak the words. And I recall the chat I had with Tony earlier today. Either he’s blinded by Lolita or he’s keeping something from me too.
I lead Reese to the bathroom. As I turn on the rainspouts for the shower, she leans against the sleek, white limestone countertop. Ultra-white lights paint her in a luminous glow, from her brown-blonde hair to the warm color of her skin.