My Storm

by Tiffany Patterson

  I hold my wet fingers up to her dazed face. We’re both panting, staring at one another. Even my damn legs are shaky. If I wasn’t in as good shape as I am, I’m sure I would’ve fallen from the force of that damn kiss.

  “This is what chemistry looks like?” I growl. “It’ll be much better when you’re cumming all over my cock.”

  With heavy lids she looks completely lost. “Shit,” she whispers.

  I nod. “Indeed.” I knew it would be like this with her.

  “I’m going now.” I step back, feeling the loss of her body heat. Just before I grab the doorknob my brain starts up and I remember something. “I have an assignment for you.”

  “An assignment?”

  I grin, looking down at her. It appears that she’s struggling to remember her own name right now.

  “Yes, I want you to try and remember the last time you felt physical pleasure.”

  “About five seconds ago,” she quickly responds.

  I let out a chuckle. “Before then.”

  “I told you I’ve never—”

  “I know,” I say, holding up my hand. “It doesn’t have to be sexual. Not all physical pleasure is a result of sexual activity. Just try and remember when something made you feel good even if it wasn’t to the point of orgasm, okay?”

  She hesitates and then nods.

  I raise my eyebrow. “I need a verbal response.”

  “I mean yes. Okay.”

  “Good. Go inside and don’t forget to lock your door. Get some rest.”

  “Goodnight,” she responds before turning and closing her door.

  I wait to make sure I hear the lock engage before I return to my car. Halfway to my car, I can feel another presence behind me. I stop, every muscle in my body flexes with tension until I hear the stalker speak.

  “You know you’re going to have one angry scorpion to deal with if you hurt her sister.”

  “Have you ever known me to hurt a woman?” I turn and look my cousin in the eyes.

  “I’ve seen you leave more than your fair share of broken hearts once you get bored,” Liam responds.

  “All those subs knew their time with me was limited.”

  “Does Tasha?”

  “She will.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, becoming annoyed.

  “Nothing.” Liam looks toward the guesthouse and then back at me. “Just know CeCe’s gonna be pissed if Tasha gets hurt and so will I.”

  “Aren’t you the one who told me she’s tougher than I thought?”

  “Sure am. I’m also telling you to be careful or you’ll have not only Coral to answer to if she gets hurt.” The hard set of his jaw and arms braced across his chest indicate he’s not joking.

  “Noted,” I say, nodding as I pick up on Liam’s warning. “But remember that LaTasha and I are two consenting adults. Whatever happens between us is just that—between us. Got it?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Strange as it may be, I’m glad Liam is looking out for LaTasha. I don’t have any intentions of hurting her, but knowing that Coral and Liam have her back makes me feel better for some odd reason. As I drive back home, I find my mind drifting off thinking about the enigma that is LaTasha and my insane reaction to her. My natural protective instincts rev into high gear whenever I’m around her.

  “I might be in trouble,” I mumble to myself as I reach my house and climb out of my car.

  Needless to say, I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning with another one of my dreams starring a woman with dark chocolate skin, thick thighs, and a quivering lip right before she yells out my name.

  Chapter Six

  Tasha

  I close my laptop and leave it in Coral’s office before I exit after exchanging goodbyes with the guys. A few of the center’s tutors and counselors are setting up chairs to prepare for breakfast. I begin unfolding chairs at the tables and laying out forks and milk boxes for the breakfast we’re about to serve. I hear the door creak open behind me and turn to see Trudy entering. I look at the clock, noting she’s ten minutes early. She hasn’t been around in about a week or so, and I’ve been worried about her.

  “Hey, Trudy, how are you?” I greet.

  “Hi, Ms. Tasha. I’m good. Look!” she announces happily, holding up a book.

  I immediately smile at the excitement in her voice before I notice she’s holding up my book. She has the first in the series of Danica’s Travels. My chest rises with a sense of pride as I watch the sparkle in her eyes as she admires the book.

  “My mama let me go to the library the other day. Well, I kinda sneaked off from where I was supposed to have been to go to the library,” she admits.

  At that I frown.

  “Don’t get mad. I couldn’t convince my mama to take me to the library for nothin’ and I really wanted to check out this book.”

  How could I be upset with her after that? Still I have to give her a little grief about sneaking off away from her mother. “Trudy, I’m glad you wanted to read, but you still shouldn’t have sneaked away from your mother like that. What if something had happened to you?”

  Trudy shrugs. “She wouldn’t have cared.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, Ms. Tasha. But I’ve been reading and I really love Danica’s story. She’s so brave.”

  I nod. “She is. Here, let’s sit down and we can talk for a few minutes about Danica.”

  We sit down and I let Trudy talk about how she’s already finished the book; she is currently re-reading it. The only time I see her face sadden is when she talks about having to return the book to the library the next day.

  “Hold on, Trudy,” I say, standing and rushing to my bag on the other side of the room. I pull out my copy of Danica’s Travels and bring it back to Trudy. “You can keep this one.”

  “Really?” she questions excitedly, yet unsure as if I’m going to take away the gift I just gave her. I see the look of a girl who’s had things taken away from her before.

  “Yes, really. It’s yours. I’ve got more than one copy,” I assure. “Now, I need you to help me put out the rest of these chairs and finish setting up for breakfast. All right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As more children emerge through the doors and Coral rounds the corner from her office, I feel a vibration in my pocket. After pulling out my phone and viewing my text message, a tingle shoots down my spine. My phone screen is filled with a profile image of Jeremy. It’s a picture I sneaked a shot of on Liam and Coral’s wedding day when he wasn’t looking. Opening the message, I can’t help but smile.

  Jeremy: LaTasha, I’ll be back in town later this afternoon. I’ll be over at 6:30. I’m bringing dinner. Anything you don’t eat? Have you been wearing my gift?

  My heartbeat quickens after reading his text. It’s been more than a week since our dinner and Jeremy has been out of town for work. Two days after our date, I got a delivery in the mail. I opened the box to find what looked like a jewelry box. I opened it to find two large glass balls connected by a string. They’re called Ben Wa balls. Inside the box read Jeremy’s instructions to wear them for at least an hour a day along with the benefits of them, which included longer, more intense orgasms.

  Tasha: Yes, I’ve been wearing them. And have you seen me?

  Jeremy: What’s that supposed to mean?

  I suddenly feel like my response wasn’t the right one.

  Tasha: Nothing. I just meant that there isn’t anything I don’t eat.

  I add an emoji smiley face to try and make light of my comment.

  Jeremy: I told you I don’t like it when you’re self-deprecating. We’ll have to discuss punishments tonight at dinner. 6:30. See you then.

  A tingle in my belly begins as I read the word “punishments.”

  “What are you grinning at?”

  Oh shit. “Nothing,” I lie, quickly putting my phone in my pocket.

  Coral looks at me speculativ
ely. “Uh, huh, well, Denise is doing the morning reading and Princess is going to be dropped off in a half an hour. We’re spending most of the day in the pool today with the kids. Are you joining us or do you want to work in the garden?”

  “The garden,” I say without hesitation. Although I’m still consumed with writer’s block, I think doing some weeding and vegetable picking will help me to zone out for a bit and get some more ideas. Also, it’ll help expend some of this nervous energy before my date tonight.

  “Okay. It’s an early day today since we close at noon, so I’ll see you in a few hours. I have to go do my rounds first,” Coral says before taking one last look at me and turning to head outside.

  I know she’s thinking something is up with me, but surprisingly, she hasn’t said anything. I wonder if she knows about Jeremy and me. I’ve had a little pep in my step for the last week since our date. Every morning I wake up to a “good morning” text and every night at nine o’clock sharp, my phone rings. As per one of his rules, I’ve exactly three rings before he hangs up. And if I don’t answer, he’ll be pissed. Tonight will likely be the real discussion on boundaries and the assignment he gave me a week ago.

  About thirty minutes later, I have the kids help me haul the vegetables to the kitchen so the staff can prepare them for lunch. Just then, my phone buzzes again with another text message.

  Jeremy: I have to change our dinner from 6:30 to 8. I’ll pick up Thai on the way over.

  Tasha: Thai is perfect. See you at 8.

  “Ms. Tasha.”

  I hear someone behind me call my name. I turn to see it’s Trudy. “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Umm, I just wanted to say thank you for the book. I love Danica’s stories. I’m gonna go to the library to get the second and third books. Do you know if there’s a fourth book in the series?”

  A pang of sadness hits my chest as she asks about the fourth installment in Danica’s series. That’s the book I’m supposed to be working on, but this darn writer’s block is not letting up.

  “Not yet, Trudy, but I’m sure one is on the way,” I manage to say, hoping beyond hope that is the actual truth. To be honest, I’ve been somewhat fearful that the words will never come to me and my writing days are over. The thought of that scares me more than I can even comprehend. I’ve always had my writing and creative thoughts to get me through even the darkest times in my life. Now, when things are going well for me, the words seem to have stopped.

  “Okay, I’ll try to come back later this week. Will you be here?” Trudy asks, interrupting my pity party.

  “Yes, I’ll be here, but why later in the week? You can’t make it tomorrow?”

  “Nah, my mama says she’s too busy to bring me tomorrow, and I don’t got money for the bus.” She shrugs, but I can see the disappointment in her eyes.

  “Hang on a sec,” I say, pushing my earlier thoughts aside and digging in my pocket for a ten dollar bill. “Here. You can use this for the bus to get here and back home. Is it enough?” I ask, wanting to make sure she has enough money to be able to make it to the community center for the rest of the week if need be.

  Trudy’s brown eyes widen in shock. “Yes, it is, but I can’t take it.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause I can’t pay you back.”

  I smile. “Trudy, it’s okay. You don’t have to pay me back. I just want to make sure you have enough money to be able to get here the rest of the week. You’re sure that’s enough? I have more in my wallet, but it’s in the office.”

  “Yeah, this is enough, Ms. Tasha. Thank you!” she exclaims, obviously excited she doesn’t have to miss the rest of the week.

  “All right, let’s go help fold up the chairs. I’m sure your mama will be here within the hour.”

  Trudy nods, stuffing the money in her pocket and begins helping me put the chairs away. Forty-five minutes later, we are done and all the kids have been picked up. I see Trudy as she heads toward a beat-up, red Buick. The woman, whom I assume is her mother in the passenger’s seat, barely looks at Trudy as she climbs in the back seat. As the car squeals off, I get that same gut feeling as the first time I saw Trudy’s mother. I watch the car all the way until it turns the corner, disappearing from my line of vision.

  “Ready to go?” Coral asks from behind me.

  Shaking off that odd feeling, I nod my head. “Yup.”

  “Hi, Aunt Tasha!” Laura waves excitedly as she stands by Coral, holding her hand.

  “Hey, Princess. Did you have a good day?”

  She nods with the excitement only four year olds can muster. “Yeah!”

  I listen attentively to Laura while she recounts her day in an animated voice. She continues to talk the entire time we drive home. After a while, my mind drifts to my date tonight. The butterflies begin fluttering in my belly with anticipation. As we pull up to the front gate, I’m still wondering how tonight will go.

  ****

  “Can I ask you something?” I say to Stacey over the phone.

  “Uh, sure,” she answers. “Go ahead.”

  I exhale. “It’s about our father. Do you remember anything about him?” It’s a question I’ve been wondering about a lot lately.

  “Oh, wow! I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I know. It’s just that I don’t know much about him. And I never felt right asking Coral.”

  “No, no, I get it.” She sighs. “Let me see. He wasn’t particularly affectionate or attentive even when he was sober. He did get worse after Mom died, from what I remember. I was so young, though.”

  “Did you ever hear him mention anything about me even in passing?” I hate how much I want to know the answer to this question.

  “No, Tasha. I’m sorry. I never heard him mention you, but he never really talked to us outside of yelling anyway.”

  “Did you ever hear him mention anything about… I don’t know, hating having a dark-skinned child?”

  “What? Who told you that?”

  “My mother. She would say the reason he didn’t acknowledge me is because of how dark I was.”

  “Damn!” She blurts out. “That’s so fucked up.”

  I snort. “Tell me about it.”

  “Tasha, I’m sorry you had to endure that as a kid, but from what I know, Dad never mentioned anything about skin tone. He was a bastard for sure, but I never heard the other stuff.”

  I nod even though Stacey can’t see me. “For some reason I’ve been wondering that lately. I’ve done quite a bit of personal work to let that go, but uh, I’m kind of seeing someone new, and I’m sure you understand how that could trigger old insecurities.”

  “Tuh, don’t I know it? Meeting Andre conjured up all my past insecurities. But I knew he was really the one when I felt comfortable enough to reveal my eating disorder to him and he kissed the scars on my fingers that were a result of it,” she explains, reminiscing.

  Stacey and I have slowly been getting to know each other. We speak once or twice a week since she left Dallas. It’s been easy getting to know her up close, from her own mouth, instead of Coral’s. We spend another fifteen minutes talking, Stacey asking me about the new man in my life. It feels good to be having girl talk. I open up to Stacey about this new relationship with Jeremy, not revealing too much but just enough.

  I hear some muffled sounds in the background. A deep male voice I recognized as Stacey’s husband, Andre. I pull the phone away from my ear when I hear what sounds like smacking lips.

  “Sorry about that,” Stacey apologizes breathily. “Andre just got home.”

  I smirk at that. I could tell from past interactions that her husband could be highly possessive of his wife’s time.

  “Babe, say hi to Tasha,” Stacey calls.

  “Hey, Tasha,” he calls.

  “Hey, Andre. How are you?”

  “I’m tired, but my wife is forcing me to cook every night.” The laughter is evident in his voice.

  “Don’t believe him. This man loves to cook.”

&
nbsp; “Bullshit. I just love how you show your gratitude after I cook.”

  “Andre!” Stacey gasps and I giggle at his antics.

  “Anyway, Tash. I gotta go. Talk to you later this week.”

  “Bye, Tasha,” Andre interjects.

  I hear Stacey yelling her husband’s name over my laughter as I hang up the phone. It’s really great to know that both of my sisters ended up with good men in spite of the terrible example my father set for all of us. An inkling of hope begins to stir in my belly, wondering if the same is possible for me. At the same time my phone buzzes.

  Jeremy: Be there in fifteen minutes.

  I smile as those butterflies start moving in my stomach.

  Chapter Seven

  Jeremy

  I slam my car door after getting in, rubbing my hand through my hair. I can’t believe how the last few hours unfolded after getting back from my work trip. I tilt my head against the headrest, hands gripping the steering wheel, and close my eyes as the events of earlier this evening replay in my mind.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Bennett. How was Tucson?” my assistant, Cynthia asks as I enter my office.

  “It went well, Cynthia. The way things are progressing, the spa should be ready by the fall.” I strut over to my desk, picking up the phone messages that have been left for me while I’ve been gone. I was in Phoenix checking on one of our spas for two days before heading to Tucson for the last five days to meet with contractors. Liam joined us the last two days. He headed straight home from the airport, but I needed to stop in the office to go over some details for my other hotels, in addition to making a few phone calls. Even though it’s after five in the evening, my assistant stayed after to catch me up on the happenings in the office over the last week.

  “Thank you for staying late. I’m just going to catch up on some work and head out in a little bit. You don’t need to stay any later.”