by Tineka Brown
In the car, on the way home, she drove in silence, not wanting to listen to anything else that would muddy the memory of those beautiful notes. She’d somehow grown convinced that the first song she listened to after hearing the master had to be special.
But when she pulled into the garage, she heard the dulcet tones of a song she knew very well coming from inside the house.
Billie Holiday’s “I’m a Fool to Want You” tumbled smoothly out of the surround-sound speakers in the living room as she entered through the garage doors.
“Everett?” Olympia called out. Her voice couldn’t quite carry over the music. She set down her bag, kicked off her shoes, and wandered into the house.
And there was Everett, standing in the kitchen, wearing a rather nice-looking suit for a weekday afternoon.
“Hey, you,” said Olympia, rushing forward to put her arms around him. “How are you?”
“I’m fantastic, sweetheart, how was the listening party?”
“It was great! The album sounds amazing.” She kissed him, and he reciprocated deeply, pulling her tight against his body. “I’m so excited,” she said. A pause, then, “so what’s with the tune?”
“Olympia.” Everett was suddenly looking into her eyes with an intensity that she’d rarely seen before; only in their most intimate moments, before some whispered declaration of love.
Then Everett dropped to one knee and Olympia covered her mouth to keep from ruining the ambience with an exaggerated gasp.
“Olympia Jackson, I know we haven’t known each other for that long…” Everett began. Though his words sounded rehearsed, there was still an earnestness about them that charmed Olympia beyond belief. She felt tears welling in her eyes and made an effort to hang onto his every word, wanting to make sure that she would remember every single detail of this moment — the way Everett looked, strong yet submissive, on the floor in front of her, the way the late afternoon light flowed like gold in through the windows, the sound of one of her favorite songs winding down to its final, strained notes.
“Will you marry me?” Everett looked up at her, his eyes clear and full of determination.
“Oh Everett, absolutely,” she said, grabbing hopelessly at his shoulders now that the tears were streaming down her cheeks. He stood and embraced her, and they stood like that, not moving for what seemed like forever.
When he pulled away from her, Olympia still felt like the embrace had been cut too short.
So as the song faded into silence she grabbed him by the shirt collar again and pulled him into a kiss that neither of them would forget, for as long as they lived.
She pushed forward, and he responded by grabbing her, moving his hands until they were firmly squeezing her buttocks, and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and giggled, still peppering his mouth with kisses.
“Uh… bedroom,” he asked, “or should I just take you right here.”
“Mm… at least let’s go to the sofa,” said Olympia. “It’s comfortable enough.”
He nodded his agreement and resumed kissing her, backing slowly toward the large sofa until he made contact with the backs of his knees and sat down heavily. Olympia was instantly in a straddling position and she bent over to grab his face, his neck between her hands, trying to feel everything -- to focus on exactly this moment, and nothing else. Just the two of them.
Everett wasted no time in finding the hem of her sweater and pulling it upward until Olympia was forced to pull away and smile at him while he tore it off her.
“Oh…” he said, smiling, as if he was seeing her in only a bra for the first time. “Remember the first time we did this?” He asked absently, moving his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, drawing lazy circled over the lacy fabric.
“The first time? Yeah… it was a few months ago… we were both a bit tipsy--”
“No, I mean… the first time. Like, back at my penthouse.”
“On the sofa?”
“When we kissed… over the city…”
“It was beautiful.”
“I love you.”
Olympia smiled and murmured, “I love you too,” into his mouth before twisting her arm behind her to unclasp her bra. The garment fell lazily onto Everett’s chest and she leaned back, pulling her arms free. He picked it up and examined it lovingly for a moment before turning his attention back to her bare breasts.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking up at her.
Olympia felt her heart swell, a jolt of pure adoration for Everett that had nothing to do with the man’s money, or looks, or body. Though of course… those are certainly a plus, she thought, feeling that familiar, warm need spread through her.
She rocked her hips against Everett’s stomach, and he responded by curling upward to take her nipple in his mouth, sucking gently while swirling his tongue over that sensitive spot. Olympia moaned softly, running her fingers through his hair, trying to focus equally on that, and on the delicious feeling of his hot tongue against her skin, and the building warmth between her legs.
Finding Everett’s shirt collar, she threaded her hands over his shoulders and began unbuttoning the garment, taking a moment to caress his chest as she passed over it.
He smiled up at her, then shifted as if to stand.
“Up,” he said simply, and Olympia obeyed, feeling momentarily silly standing topless in jeans with all these windows. Everett’s property was large enough that no one would happen to walk by at an inopportune moment, but still, she hadn’t quite gotten used to it.
She watched Everett pull his shirt the rest of the way off and throw it only the sofa. He angled his jaw toward the sofa. Then he moved toward her and kissed her neck, undoing her jeans and plunging a hand down between the fabric of her jeans and underwear.
“Mmm…” he moaned into her skin, feeling the wetness that had already soaked through her panties.
Olympia gave a slight wiggle that allowed her jeans to fall to the floor and rocked her hips against Everett’s hand, breathing heavily.
Then he pulled away again and gestured at his shirt, still draped over the edge of the couch cushion. “Sit there,” he said.
Olympia did as she was told, sitting on the shirt.
Everett knelt before her, spreading her legs gently and bringing his face up to the gusset of her panties. He opened his mouth and breathed, chuckling softly as the feeling of his hot breath made Olympia squirm. He pressed his tongue against her through the fabric and Olympia bucked her hips involuntarily.
Not bothering to remove them, Everett simply wrapped his fingers around the gusset and pulled her panties aside, enveloping her clit in the warm wetness of his mouth.
“Oh. God…” Olympia cried out, her voice strained, as he began to lap gently at her, his tongue delivering just the right amount of soft, stroking pressure. She kept her eyes open, watching his head bob slightly with each movement of his tongue as her fingers gently traced patterns into his hair. He slowly quickened his pace, his fingers clamping down on her thighs to stop her from moving, desperately trying to fuck his mouth. And she felt it building from far away, felt herself losing control, breathing deeply, focusing on that feeling…
“Oh, Everett--” she cried.
“Mhm…” he moaned, his mouth still pressed against her.
“Oh-- I’m--” and she came, shuddering, before she could finish her sentence, arching her back and letting her cries echo through the house. He stroked her through it, working his tongue against her clit and holding it there until she finally collapsed, lying back in total bliss.
Then he came up for air, smiling and wiping daintily at the corner of his mouth.
“Please…” she managed, and watched as he undid his pants, allowing his hard, beautiful cock to pop free.
“Do you want me?” He asked, his voice husky with arousal.
“Oh god yes, Everett. Please.”
“Mm… good.” He took hold of her thighs again and pushed her further up onto the sofa, then wrapp
ed his fingers around himself to gently guide his cock into her. He slid in effortlessly and Olympia gasped at the feeling as he filled her.
He let out a soft sound and pulled her legs up, wrapping her ankles around his neck. Then he began to fuck her, slowly at first, pushing in quick then reveling in a deliberately slow, backward stroke. Olympia watched his face, the way his abs flexed with each stroke, the twitch of his biceps as he struggled to hang onto her. He began to go faster, and whispered her name, once, then again. His eyes snapped open quite suddenly.
“Oh--”
He pushed into her one more time and squeezed her legs. Olympia gasped as she felt his cock pulse inside of her. He planted gentle kisses down the length of each leg as his orgasm subsided, before pulling away gently and letting Olympia fall into a slumped, seated position.
He knelt on the floor again, to spare the sofa, leaning his head against her thigh.
“I’m so glad you said yes,” he murmured, his eyes still shut.
“I’m so glad you asked,” said Olympia.
Chapter 12
Everett had insisted they get married in Arizona. Olympia was curious as to why, but if she was being honest, she didn’t really care where they got married — as long as it was really happening.
“There’s this spot there, a canyon, sort of,” said Everett. “In the springtime, with the red sand… it’s absolutely gorgeous. An outdoor wedding would be totally picturesque.”
“It sounds amazing, darling,” said Olympia, looking up at him over their kitchen table, which had been covered in planning documents for the past four months.
A wedding in May. Outdoors, in the desert. Olympia only hoped that the guests on Everett’s side remembered to bring sunscreen.
They spent a week in February making the invitations. Olympia had at first expected Everett to just call up one of his buddies and find himself a wedding planner, but she quickly found out that he was not the type of person to leave such an intimate matter in the hands of anyone but close family. And since he couldn’t exactly have his parents organize his wedding, it was him and Olympia, or no one.
It was a lot of work, but somehow, they’d muddled through without any significant disagreements.
“So…” said Everett on the Tuesday of Invitation Week, peering at Olympia over the top of his laptop screen. “How do you feel about me inviting my parents?”
A chill ran through Olympia, and it must have showed on her face, because Everett quickly added, “you can say no, of course, I just… was hoping to discuss it.”
“What’s to discuss?”
“Well…” Everett closed his laptop and laid his hands on the table, looking at Olympia plainly. “They’re my parents. I always imaged they’d come to my wedding… but I realize they’re probably not welcome.”
Olympia shrugged. She felt hot, and the table suddenly felt too small — she wanted to be somewhere else, having fun. Not having this conversation. But she stood her ground.
“It’s a tough spot for me,” she said. “To be frank… your parents are racists. And I can’t excuse that — especially when half the friends and family that I’m going to be inviting are black.” She examined Everett’s face for any sign of a reaction. He nodded slightly, not breaking eye contact as she spoke. “Maybe…” she looked at the wall. “Maybe I should have made more of an effort over the past year to… I don’t know… communicate with them?”
“Hey,” Everett said, standing and coming to wrap his arms around her. “That’s on me, Olympia. I was really upset with them after the things they said about Valentine, and the way they treated you at the show. I’m still upset with them. I can’t excuse that behavior.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh. “And I suppose that part of me wanted to try to… protect you. That’s something I should have talked to you about, and I’m sorry.”
Olympia clung to his arm, shutting her eyes and breathing in the scent of him.
“Is there any way we can… compromise?”
“Hm?” The question surprised Olympia. Compromise, certainly, the basis of any good relationship or so I’ve been taught, she thought. Yet, still… she was hoping she would never have to compromise with Everett. She took a deep breath. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well… I was kind of thinking… maybe I could invite them to the ceremony, but not the reception.”
“Wouldn’t that be a little awkward,” asked Olympia, turning to face him. “Everyone else going to the reception, but we turn around and tell them that they’re not welcome?”
“I’d tell them beforehand, of course.”
“And they wouldn’t put up a fight?”
“I have leverage. If they threaten to put up a fight, then they’re not allowed to the reception. And if they put up a fight while they’re there, then I won’t send them any photos of our wedding. And I’ll probably never talk to them again.”
“This seems like blackmail. Bribery?”
“Sometimes that’s the only way to deal with parents.”
Olympia sighed heavily. For once in her life she was glad it was just her and her mother — much less drama in that department.
“Well, okay,” she said. “We’re not going to send them an invitation. You call them, as soon as possible. Tomorrow. Tell them exactly what we talked about. Tell them I’m not going to tolerate any prejudice, not toward me and especially not toward any of my guests. If anyone comes to me and says that your parents so much as looked at them funny, I will send your parents home.”
Everett nodded. “I totally understand. I… if you’re not okay with this, I’m still willing to just… not invite them.”
“I know. But I want you to be able to have your parents attend your own wedding.”
He gave her a lopsided smile, that was slightly sad. “I appreciate that. I just… I love you, Olympia. And I want you to know that I care about you more than I care about pleasing my parents.”
“As it should be,” said Olympia, and kissed him gently. “Now, onto these invitations — ‘save the date’ in cursive, or printed?”
*****
The date came, faster than either Olympia or Everett could have anticipated. On the morning of the big day, Olympia woke up in a posh hotel room and threw open the drapes to see the sun hanging, pristine, in a gorgeous deep blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. Perfection.
She glanced back at the bed to watch Everett drag himself out of sleep, sitting up and blinking for a moment before smiling at her. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said.
“Good morning. It’s almost nine. We’ve got a lot of preparation to do.”
“Breakfast first?”
“Mm.”
Everett spared no expense for room service, ordering them a spread that Olympia couldn’t possibly finish. She giggled as Everett nudged a forkful of whole wheat blueberry pancakes toward her.
“I have to actually fit into my dress later!” She exclaimed but ate the bite anyway.
Finishing her coffee, she smiled at Everett, tousling his hair and enjoying the way the sunlight made even his pale skin look rosy and golden. She kissed him and murmured, “I have to go… my makeup artists will be wondering where I am.”
Her makeup artists were Alex and her mother, who had volunteered to help, despite Everett’s offer of hiring a professional. Olympia had insisted that they keep it in the family.
Everett pressed his lips against her chin and down her neck. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay,” he said gently.