Smiles By Trials (Rays of Sunshine Book 2)

by Leonard,Jewel E.

  “Most of my early childhood is a big blank.” Rhea had little doubt her memories lacked for good reasons. “I was four when Northridge hit. I cried and cried, just knew it was the end of the world. Can you imagine a four-year-old girl fearing the apocalypse? I did. To this day, I can still taste my fear as if it were fresh.” She swallowed; the mere thought of it made her terror palpable.

  The shuddering of the elevator car as it stopped at the eighth floor gave Rhea an unwelcome start.

  “This elevator does that,” Huvie reassured her. “Don’t worry, though. The inspection papers are expired by only a few months.”

  Rhea attempted to verify if he was teasing, but Huvie pulled her out of the car and into the hallway.

  His complex was on the older side and although the building was kept clean, the carpet, wallpaper, and occasional decorations were dated.

  There was a musk in the drafty air that made Rhea wonder how badly the place leaked during storms.

  Huvie’s apartment was at the end of the hall, his door plain dark wood with a brass-colored knob and matching brass-colored numbers 807 nailed to it.

  He unlocked the door with a key that had to be older than she was, any design on its handle worn clean away.

  “Come on in.” Huvie dropped his keys and wallet into a small ceramic bowl on the far end of his kitchen counter.

  Rhea took careful stock of the studio apartment.

  The walls were covered in artwork—mostly monochromatic abstracts she guessed were his pieces. Then followed the sick musing she should introduce Huvie to Adam. She swept that idea from her head, noticing a set of bowls on the floor in one corner of the kitchenette and a scratching post right outside the bathroom door left ajar. Otherwise, there was no sign of any cat.

  It was probably hiding out under his bed and she hoped it had plans to relocate soon.

  Huvie’s studio was clean but the man was a collector, with a tall and skinny bare wood curio cabinet in a corner behind his two-chair, round kitchen table.

  The cabinet was full of sculptures and Rhea drew near to get a better look. There was Cyborg from Teen Titans, Poison Ivy from Batman; a miniature gold football helmet with a black Fleur-De-Lis on its side and an ice-hockey figurine in a uniform Rhea was unfamiliar with. There was a tall piece of colorless quartz. She straightened when her eyes fell upon the item propped against it. “Is that a voodoo doll?”

  “Yeah. It was a gag gift from Serenity. Joke’s on her because the thing is damn cool,” he replied.

  “And—and this . . . this isn’t a real shrunken head—” Rhea motioned to the third shelf.

  “Come check out my view.” Huvie opened his drapes, allowing the Illinois sunset to flood his studio apartment.

  “Oh,” Rhea sighed, pressing her hand to her chest. “It’s beautiful.” She joined him by the window, trying to admire his view despite how it made her queasy how far away the ground was.

  “Chicago River at dusk. Few things beat this sight.” He glanced at her. “Except maybe a pretty girl’s smile.”

  She smiled despite her best efforts against a corny line. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Huvie wrapped his arms around her waist; Rhea wanted so badly to enjoy the embrace. He’s not Adam.

  “Just take the compliment,” he said, kissing her on the side of her neck.

  Rhea was keenly aware of his tongue on her skin. “I—was gonna shower—” Her voice went as weak as her knees. Damned if kisses on her neck weren’t an Achilles’ heel. Thank God vampires aren’t real.

  “The more I think about it, the more I realize I’d much rather taste your endorphins than my man-soap.”

  “O—kay—” she breathed. “If you insist.”

  Huvie squeezed Rhea. “You done admiring the scenery? ‘Cause I really wanna admire yours.”

  “Oh, um, yeah.” Rhea didn’t see what was so objectionable with leaving the drapes open but she guessed it must have bothered him. Willing to bed a stranger? Sure. Willing to screw where there was minimal chance someone might see? No.

  Funny what peoples’ hang-ups were.

  He switched on the bedside lamp and closed his drapes, turning to her. “Ladies first.”

  Rhea considered quipping she was no lady—what kind of lady screwed a man on the first date despite being in love with someone else?

  Now she was just prolonging the main event. She removed her coat and lifted her long-sleeved shirt over her head, draping it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs before stepping out of her jeans and folding those atop her shirt. Rhea turned to Huvie. “Well?”

  He ogled her in her petal pink underwear set. “Yeah, I can totes work with that.” Huvie followed suit, though he stripped all his clothes off.

  Shrugging under her intense stare, he remarked, “There’s a morsel of truth in some stereotypes, I suppose. I’m fine perpetuating this one.”

  Rhea never obsessed about cock size but this one left her with a few things to consider.

  Among those things: the abject horror of where the hell is that going to fit?

  “Well,” she squeaked, “I, myself, am a stereotype: a white girl who wears yoga pants, has a Starbucks gold card, and pursues all things pumpkin spice.”

  Huvie pursed his lips before he smiled at her. “That’s good to know. I’ve seen memes about how to summon you so now I know how to find you when I want a booty call.”

  “Uh huh.” That would be problematic; Rhea Josse was no man’s booty call. “Um, I’ve got a . . . a weird request.”

  He inhaled, puffing out his chest and replying, “Okaaaay.”

  “Can I touch your hair?”

  Huvie exhaled, relief washing across his features. “Yeah, sure, of course. I love when girls touch it.”

  “What did you think I was gonna ask?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Might be good for a laugh.” She shrugged. “But I suppose not.”

  He cleared his throat. “You’re nervous. There’s no reason to be. Here, lemme help.” Huvie stepped close to her, guiding her hands into his hair. He embraced her, dropping kisses on her neck.

  Rhea tangled her fingers amid his kinky coils, finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what she was touching while he kissed her. His hair was soft and lush. She’d have to ask him what his secret was; her hair felt like straw lately even though she hadn’t dyed it in forever.

  “You know,” Huvie remarked between his kisses, “this is how I trap women.”

  Amid her laughter, Huvie guided her to his bed. His lips were warm, his kisses teasing her skin into goosebumps as he explored her body with his mouth.

  Rhea’s hands fell away from Huvie’s hair and onto the mattress where he entwined his fingers with hers.

  Bit by bit, kiss by kiss, caress by caress, Rhea’s reluctance washed away in a sea of delight.

  There was even a point at which Huvie’s hand warming between her thighs brought her such pleasure she convinced herself she’d be able to relax and enjoy the ride.

  When he sneaked his hand into her underwear, Rhea became intensely focused on his palm cupping her ass. She stiffened, panting breaths catching in her throat. God forbid he sneak a finger between her cheeks for a drive down the ol’ dirt road; for her, that had always been an exit-only deal. Do not back up, severe time damage, that sort of thing.

  “No?” Huvie asked, pulling away.

  “I—” Rhea shook her head. She was wet and horny as hell and no amount of her own caresses or vibrating rabbit was going to replace the feeling of a man pressing her into the mattress and making her body come alive with its assorted sexual cheat codes. Now or never. And she was so aroused, it might as well have been now. To cover for her hesitation, she yelped, “—condom—!”

  Huvie laughed. “Oh, yeah, duh. I wouldn’t dream of screwing you over that way. I may be a devilishly handsome rake with a dick that won’t quit but I’m no asshole.”

  Rhea rolled onto her stomach to reach for her pur
se—pretty much everything was within reaching distance of the bed in a studio apartment—and Huvie drew circles around her pussy through her underwear. She bit her lip to swallow a gasp as she retrieved a condom from her bag. A single syllabic word came with great struggle while he continued to fondle her: “Here.”

  Huvie laughed as he dragged her panties off her and tossed them to the floor. “Yeah, no. Those don’t fit me.”

  They were Adam’s preferred type—for both fit and ribbing. Rhea’s eyes widened and she was stunned into silence. Condoms aren’t one-size-fits-all? That was a lesson she didn’t especially want to learn the way she was learning it.

  He drew a couple of fingers along her slit. “Don’t worry, baby.” He shifted until he could reach his bedside table, popping open its drawer. “I have plenty that do fit me. I have to special-order them from Lucky Bloke.”

  Rhea tried to decide if he was joking as she watched him roll one of his condoms down the ample length of his erection. He wasn’t necessarily any thicker than the other men she’d been with—all two of them—but his willy looked as long as they came. While she hadn’t slept with many men to know it, her frequent visitation of Tumblr was nothing if not educational.

  Huvie applied some additional lubricant to himself.

  “How do you—” Rhea’s voice trailed off as Huvie mounted her where she lay, squeezing her thighs together with his knees and maneuvering his cock against her ass. He slapped her right cheek with it a few times. Yeah. Yeah, that’s hard. For a few terrifying moments, she feared he expected anal with it and visions of the resulting ER visit flooded her imagination. It wouldn’t be too much unlike sending the shaft of a canon through a Krispy Kreme donut.

  Then the tip of Huvie’s member spread her lips and sank down.

  Horror shifted to relief before it became bliss—the position in combination with her ample rear kept him from plunging too deeply, defending her cervix from certain impalement. She still got all the weight and friction she craved, from his member to his bed sheets.

  Huvie started slow, resting his hands on her shoulders as he thrust and retreated.

  Rhea closed her eyes, giving herself permission to envision Adam in Huvie’s place.

  Adam’s knees against the outside of her thighs.

  Adam’s hands pressing her shoulders into the bed with each thrust.

  Adam filling her up without mercy, her clit rubbing against the bedsheets in time with his strokes.

  “Oh God—” Rhea gasped, her climax building by surprise.

  Adam grabbing the hair at Rhea’s crown, yanking her head back from the mattress.

  “Louder,” Huvie demanded.

  She would’ve been louder then, anyway, as she came—crying out the single word she’d been keeping at bay the whole time.

  A few more thrusts, the sensation of a dam bursting between them, and Huvie finished, groaning and plunging his full length into her.

  Rhea yelled at the flash of pain it brought, resisting the urge to fight against him while he recovered still inside her. She thought the position had been a good one for his endowment when it was, instead, his restraint keeping her from injury. That was, until the final thrust; it sure as hell felt as if he speared her cervix and went halfway into her womb. Was it possible to dislodge an intrauterine device that way? She prayed not.

  A couple minutes masquerading as a half hour later, Huvie retreated, resting on his back beside Rhea with a satisfied sigh. His hand remained wrapped around his dick, the same length but now limp.

  She exhaled and put her face down against his mattress, trying to process what the hell happened.

  I had sex with a guy who’s not Adam. Or Mark. I somehow came and it was the least satisfying thing ever. That’s what the hell happened. She hadn’t just come; she’d become a human geyser. Rhea didn’t know she was even capable of such things.

  Oh who cares it wasn’t Mark?

  It was Adam who mattered. Sure, he insisted he wanted her to sleep with another guy and she had, herself, agreed to it but now she regretted the whole damn thing. And she had no clue how to leave Huvie’s place with any shred of dignity left intact.

  Oh my God. How am I going to tell Adam I actually went through with this?

  Rhea lifted her head from the mattress. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I insist I don’t need to sleep with another guy to know I want to be exclusive with him. That’s all he needs to know, that’s all that matters.

  “Rhea?”

  She nodded. “Mmm-hmm?”

  “Who’s Adam?”

  Rhea glanced at Huvie with a frown. Sure, her mind wandered to Adam more than once while she was with Huvie today but she didn’t recall his name coming up in conversation; she’d been exceedingly careful not to mention it.

  “He’s—um—” She cleared her throat. “—just some guy I know.”

  “He must be some guy if you screamed his name in the height of passion. Frankly, I thought you’d already come until you did that.”

  She glanced at him sheepishly. “Oh.”

  “You’re the first white chick I’ve gotten to squirt. First time I’ve ever had a girl yell another guy’s name, too. I’ve gotta admit,” he exhaled, “it’s . . . humbling.”

  “Oh—God—I am so sorry for all of that! It’s nothing against you, I swear—”

  “I’m sure.” Huvie smiled. “And it’s not you, either, baby. Don’t feel bad. But—” He cleared his throat. “Do send my regards to whoever this ‘just some guy’ Adam is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna use the bathroom. You can go when I’m done.”

  “Uh—yeah, okay.”

  Huvie excused himself as she sat up with a sigh and adjusted her bra until it was comfortable again. Literally, The Deed was done and she could move on. So where was the sense of freedom, the relief she’d been longing for since she and Adam devised this ridiculous plan?

  The toilet flushed and the faucet kicked on and back off before Huvie emerged. “Go on now.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “It’s all yours.”

  Rhea stood from the bed, her much-abused pussy making certain she knew it had no interest in entertaining future foot-longs. She slipped into the bathroom, sparing a glance at Huvie’s flaccid junk on the way.

  Okay, so maybe it’s only seven or eight inches long. But still. Fuckin’ ow.

  She took her time cleaning herself—thankfully the litterbox near the door was recently scooped so she didn’t have to contend with any objectionable smell.

  “Hey,” Huvie greeted her when she came out. “Your phone’s been buzzing non-stop. I think someone’s desperately trying to reach you.”

  “Yeah, I’ll check.” Rhea glanced around the apartment, her eyes lingering on the sizable wet spot she’d left in her wake. “Hey, where’d my underwear go?”

  Huvie leaned over the edge of his bed. “I dropped them right here—” he glanced around, his eyes settling on something in the kitchen. He leaped to his feet.

  On the kitchen floor was a cat that looked more like an unsheared white sheep than a feline. It was writhing all over her underwear.

  “Chat!” Huvie hissed, shooing him away and snatching the garment from the floor. “I’m so sorry,” he sighed as he handed them to Rhea. “I really need to have Voodoo neutered one of these days. He’s a horny little fuck.”

  Rhea gave him a stiff smile. “Thanks.” She retrieved her shirt and jeans to dress herself in the bathroom.

  The damp crotch of her petal pink panties had a fine coat of tiny white hairs which were definitely not hers. Rhea didn’t relish the idea of having cat fur in her lady-business so she folded her underwear and tucked them into a pants pocket after dressing. Having denim in her lady-business was only marginally better; she’d have to change pants as soon as she got home. Rhea took a deep, steadying breath. Walk out. Thank him for a good time, use the old ‘I’ve got work early’ line. It was more believable than Adam’s excuse of having an early art exhibit, anyway.

  “Rhea?” Huvie asked.
“Seriously, if you don’t answer your damn phone, I’m gonna.”

  “Yeah, yeah—” She stepped out of the bathroom, dodging his face in favor of her smartphone’s.

  There were four calls and ten texts from Brianna of increasing urgency. The last came in while she was looking through the earlier ones: SOS 911 IDK where U R but pls call me now!

  “Excuse me, I’d better—”

  Huvie waved it off. “No worries.”

  Rhea selected Brianna’s number from her contacts.

  Brianna answered on the first buzz. “Rhea, where the hell have you been?”

  “What’s the matter?” asked Rhea.

  “I need help, I’m gonna get evicted!”

  “What—how—” Rhea shook her head. “Can I . . . do something to help?”

  “Do you think you can come now?”

  “I—really don’t see—”

  “Please, Rhea? I’m desperate!”

  Rhea sighed. “Hang on.” She muted her phone. Perpetually suspicious of technology, she whispered to Huvie, “I need to go. Can you take me to Brianna’s place rather than mine?”

  Huvie nodded. “Yeah, of course, sure thing. Is she okay?”

  “I’m sure she will be.” Rhea unmuted her phone. “Brianna? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She could hear sniffles over the line. “Thanks, Rhea.”

  Huvie’s Impala idled on the street in front of Brianna’s complex as Rhea unbuckled her seatbelt.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me coming in with you?” he asked.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got this. Thanks for everything, Huvie.”

  “You’re welcome, it was fun.” Huvie stole a kiss on her cheek. “Let’s do this again sometime, okay?”

  Though Rhea had no intention of doing so—outside of getting more ink—she replied, “I’ll call you soon.” She let herself out of his car. “See ya.”

  “Bye.”

  Rhea huddled into her coat and trekked into the community, equally touched and annoyed when Huvie waited for Brianna to let her inside. As Brianna shut the door, Rhea breathed a sigh of relief she’d been withholding for much of the day. It was done. Thank God. She could resume normal Rhea boring-as-brown-grass programming.