by Aceves, Gigi
Dejectedly, I leave to go to work, hoping work will somehow make me forget . . . maybe.
“LT, when are you leaving for your interview?”
“In two days. Are you still up for it, B?”
“I can’t go, man. I’m covering for your ass.” I fire up my computer before turning to my wingman whom I might lose to Uncle Sam.
He chuckles, “Good luck, man. Don’t you love red carpet events? All the big wigs in Hollywood and the Music Industry in one place is a nightmare, but you’re gonna be seeing tits and ass all night long. You squared everything with, T?”
“Squared everything? Fuck, everything is in the shitters.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this. But, have you thought of asking Rox to help you?”
“I need all the help I can get at this point, LT.”
“Still wanna have kids? That’s the problem. When her wants are not the same as yours . . .” He shakes his head sadly. “ . . . that’s when it gets dicey, man. So, I’m asking again, do you still wanna have kids?” He asks with one brow arched.
Cody chooses to come in right as LT asks me that question, and he turns to me with his head cocked to the side, daring me to answer. How can I explain this without sounding like a damn girl?
“With Tami—absolutely,” I answer without reservations . . . none.
“Really?” Cody asks as he leans on a bookcase by the door.
“I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a pussy.”
Cody laughs. “Dude, we’ve been pussified. You didn’t get the memo?”
“Whoa! Bro, speak for yourself. No one, I repeat, no one will ever pussify me.” LT raises his hand in protest.
“Hmm, never say never, LT. Once you’re in D.C., your ass will be owned by Uncle Sam to do as he pleases. So, going back to pussification. Explain yourself, B,” Cody states with a stupid grin on his face.
“After I lost my first child, I was scared as fuck to get someone pregnant, hence, being anal about suiting up. I’m deathly scared, not wanting to feel that sense of loss, again. But with Tami, I’m willing to try as long as she’ll try it with me. Sadly, I didn’t realize it soon enough. Mark my words, this is not the end of us. Not by a long shot.”
LT and Cody look at me with smiles on their faces, an approval of some sort that I got my shit under control.
“I’m happy for you, B,” Cody says as he hugs me.
He leans back and kisses both my cheeks; LT and I share a confused look. I think a few more screws loosens inside my friend’s brain.
“Cody, you’ve been hanging out with Roxy and Tami too much. Not only are you pussified, your dick actually morphed into a pussy,” LT chuckles loudly.
“My wife is pregnant, emotional, and crazier than ever. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but your sister, LT, is a nymphomaniac! I’ve watched re-runs of damn Sex in the City with marathon sex after, and my dick is sore as shit! I’ve gone to the grocery store ten billion times for ten different things, only to be told I bought the wrong one. So, please, forgive me if I’m so happy Brian has finally seen the light, because I might just lose my ever loving mind! Take Tami and bang her until she can’t walk, please, so I’m left with only one hormonal female instead of two. I’ve been dealing with this shit for days.”
It’s LT’s and my turn to laugh because Cody looks distraught. The guy is hanging by a thread. I think one more night with the girls and he would’ve called for reinforcements.
Cody flips us with two fingers. “Laugh all you want. When you get Tami pregnant, man, be warned you might break your dick. Be prepared to splint that shit up. And you,” he says pointing at LT, “ . . . when you finally find that girl who makes your world spin, makes your heart beat so fast with just her smile, makes it stop when she cries, drives you insane and in spite of that, you keep asking for more; I’m gonna laugh my ass off at your ugly mug. I’m out!”
LT leaves soon after. I work as fast as I can to finish up so I can stop by Tami’s favorite bakery to buy her favorite Tiramisu. This is part of my master plan to get Tami back, a daily peace offering so she’ll soften up. I drive home lost in thought with everything that’s happened from our supposed break up ’til now.
There’s nothing . . . absolutely nothing she wants I wouldn’t try to give her. Even though the fear that rests in my belly with the thought of trying to have another child scares me worse than going to war, I’ll suck it up for her knowing her strength will carry us through.
TAMI
Before going home, Neil and I pass by Naked Sweets for my daily sugar fix. I look at him for a second, and he air kisses me. What am I going to do with this guy? At least, he’s making me laugh instead of wallowing in my sorrows. Brian has given me space; but he constantly texts me making it known how much he misses me, on top of his daily sweet offerings. So, why am I buying something he might just bring home later?
“Uh-oh, you’re grinning, chica. Are you imagining Brian’s hard cock in your mouth?”
“Oh, my gosh! Shut up!”
“Oh, baby girl, I know that look; I wear it all the time,” he says with a wink.
“TMI! Stop, Neil. Just stop!”
“What? There’s no shame in your game, Mama Cougar. Embrace it!”
Shaking my head, I choose to ignore him and not feed his obsession with sucking cock. I swear just thinking about it gives me the shivers. Once Neil is on a roll, no one can stop him. He’s the male version of Roxy.
“You know what? We should go out. I’ll be your winggay.”
Scratching my forehead, I dare say, “Winggay? I hope it’s not what I think it is.”
“Well, I can’t be your wingman, it goes against my princess nature. You’re the Cougar, and I’m the gorgeous winggay. We can call our little tandem the CouGay.” He claps like a little girl as I laugh out loud.
“What’s the plan? You wanna have a sleepover?”
“Sure, why not? Let’s have dinner first, then we can pick and choose from our long list of man candy for our next shoot. You’ll have to forgive me, we’re eating leftovers.”
We both head to the kitchen, and I start reheating our dinner. I silently pray for Brian to come home when I’m safely hiding in my room with my winggay. Just when we’re about to sit down to eat, Brian walks in holding a white box smiling at me. I smile back, of course.
“Hey, Neil, what’s up?”
He gives Brian a smirk. “Oh, it’s down, how about yours? You wanna taste this dessert we got at this place . . .” he stops, looks at me and goes on, “it’s called a lying-sack-of-shit, or you want to try these mini doughnuts? They’re called fried balls dipped in motor oil.”
Brian looks at him cautiously and swings his gaze back at me. I want to kick Neil so badly, but instead I shrug my shoulders, pretending I’ve got no clue as to what he’s talking about.
“Oh, don’t mind me, Brian; I’m just in a pissy mood. It’s that time of the month.”
His answer shocked the hell out of Brian and me, could he get any cruder? I’m about to sit down when Brian asks if he could talk to me outside. Talking is good, isn’t it?
“I’m sorry I didn’t text you this afternoon. I had to do something,” he says as he inches closer to me.
“Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to call me every day. Anyway, um I’m really hungry, and I don’t want to leave Neil on his own. You know how crazy he gets.”
I turn to leave only to find myself enveloped in his warmth. I allow myself to enjoy the feeling for a couple of seconds, and just when I’m ready to disengage, he kisses my neck and inhales deeply. Again, I allow myself a few seconds to enjoy him but anything more, I don’t think is right. So, I move away from him. Of course, he doesn’t let me.
“Please, angel, I need to feel you. I need to breathe you in. . . . I just need you.” He pleads as he turns me to face him, “Kiss me.”
Wasting no time, he slams his mouth into mine . . . consuming me. His tongue darts out wanting in, but I refus
e . . . I can’t.
He whispers against my lips, “Open up.” Another swipe of his tongue across my lips. “I need to taste you.” Another lick followed by a nip. “Please. . . .”A tug on my lower lip follows soon after, his hands keep my head hostage, not allowing me to move or to turn my face away from his. Still not giving in, he moves his mouth to my neck, lick to seduce, bite to captivate, and another lick to soothe. . . . over and over he drives me to the point of no return. As soon as my back hits the outside wall, I let out a gasp, and he’s quick to ravage my mouth, owning my lips, and capturing my tongue with his unforgiving one. I’m mewling like a cat in heat in no time, my tongue seeks his, wanting more. . . . needing more. He nudges my feet apart and slithers his hand up my skirt. My mind wants to stops this, but my heart and my need for him erases every single doubt.
“I love you.”
Since he doesn’t give me a chance to respond, my needy lips continue their sparring match with his. His searching fingers find what they’re looking for, and my waiting core feels them, too. He plunges deep with one finger. . . . then even deeper adding another.
“Oh God. . . .” My inhibitions are out the door, and all that’s left is a huge hunger for everything Brian.
He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his lips spreading into a smile. The idiot knows I’m dough under his finger tips to do as he pleases. Pliable to surrender and easily maneuvered.
“Forever.” A declaration as he takes ownership of my neck once again as he pumps inside me without letting up.
My emotions are all over the place, and I’m about ready to unbind weeks of longing. The yearning my body feels is almost an uncontrollable ache, and he knows it.
“Say it. . . . I need to hear it.”
I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to finish his declaration. Just when I’m about to fall over the edge, he stops and pulls his fingers out of me.
Empty.
Bare.
Lacking.
I feel all of this, knowing in my heart only he can fill me up, cover me completely, and adequately love me. While I’m pondering how much this man means to me, I feel him dragging his finger toward my clit, only to stop and slide it back closer to my aching core and back up again, teasing me relentlessly.
“Say it,” he says, forcefully this time. He’s getting impatient, and I’m feeling the same way, although for a different reason.
The voice I hear isn’t my own. It’s too throaty, too needy, but maybe I am, “ . . . with no end.”
Immediately, he plunges right into me . . . hard . . . deep . . . hitting me where I need him . . . where I want him. His fingers slide in and out. . . . he switches from curling to scissoring his fingers inside me, pushing my already weak body into submission. He kisses me so sweetly and so lovingly my heart feels a sense of completion. His fingers and mouth denote a sense of punishment and reward.
He swallows my moans as I come by his hand alone, unashamedly writhing and out of breath, I let go. Allowing myself to fall freely, to float in the air, lifeless. It only lasts for a short while until reality sets in, and a sense of despondency comes over me.
I push him slightly as I try to compose myself. “This shouldn’t have happened. As much as I wanted it to, it shouldn’t have.” I start shaking my head to clear the insecurities brewing inside me caused by knowing he doesn’t want what I want. The pain that comes after the realization is like no other. “I’m so sorry.”
Shocked perhaps by what I said, he steps back, and I take advantage of it. I run inside hoping to find Neil in the kitchen to buffer this confrontation, but he isn’t. So, I seek the refuge of my room. But, before I reach the safety of the promise land, Brian yanks me toward him, twisting me so we’re now facing each other.
“What the hell was that?” His eyes bore into mine like a drill on full blast.
“Exactly what I said, that it shouldn’t have happened, period. A moment of weakness, I don’t know. Please, let me go.” The last statement I say as I’m looking at the ground, because in reality, I don’t want him to ever let go.
“Not without telling me what the hell is going on.”
“Nothing is going on, okay?” I flail my hand back and forth between us. “I asked for this remember? Time apart, for you to find yourself and what just happened only messes things up. Your wants are not the same as mine and . . . it just might take a while before my heart catches up with my brain. It’s okay, Brian. You don’t have to worry about me, really.”
Frustration masks his face and the biting of his lip isn’t a good sign, either. Brian hardly ever gets upset, but when he does, he’s like an atomic bomb waiting to explode; and bringing him down from that is something only my brother or Cody can handle.
“Since when do we fucking play around like fucking teenagers? This isn’t us! We talk shit out like adults, and why the hell are you talking in damn riddles? I need answers, Tami. Now!” He leers at me as anger floats in his hard green eyes.
“I don’t owe you an explanation since you failed to disclose shit to me!” I close my eyes, one deep breath in for sanity and one out for clarity. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. It’s late, I haven’t eaten, and I’m tired. Can we talk about this some other time?”
He scoffs at me. “Some other time? You’re seriously shelving this? Do you know what you’re doing to me?
“What about what you’ve done to me? Even though I’ve asked for space, the moment you get near me I cave! I hate myself for giving in. Why can’t I be as hard as you? Why can’t I spew hurtful things, too?” My voice is much louder, much more forceful.
“I’m trying to fucking fix it. You kissed the fuck out of me back there,” he says pointing at the deck. “And now, you’re acting as if we did something wrong? You fell apart with this hand, angel . . .” he raises his hand as he says it with so much anger and contempt, I want to slap him.
“I refuse to talk to you when you’re being like this. This isn’t you, Brian.”
“This isn’t talking, sweetheart. This is called talking in codes that I can’t understand and only you do. There’s stuff brewing in your brain about me which you’re not willing to disclose.”
He shakes his head and without saying another word, walks away from me. I don’t know why he’s even asking, knowing what he’s done and what I know. Insecurity is a mean nemesis, and right now, I’m full of it. Why shouldn’t I be? After being so sure . . . overly confident even, that our relationship is better than most he tells me a secret that I should’ve known. If he hid that from me, what else is he hiding? To add insult to injury, he tells me he can’t risk or wouldn’t risk losing another child. Isn’t that something he should’ve disclosed a long time ago? I’m neck deep in the quicksand of my own insecurities. What happened to confident me?
Relieved he walked away, I open my bedroom door to find Neil comfortably watching a re-run of 24. According to him, Jack Bauer is the answer to the world’s problems.
Muting the TV, he eyes me skeptically. “You know having your coochie finger banged isn’t the answer to your heartache, right?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I slowly approach my bed. “How do you know I was finger banged, oh wise one?”
“Chicka, if Brian banged you with his cock, I would’ve felt the damn wall shake. And, I would have belted out, ‘I feel the earth, move under the feet. I feel the sky tumbling down.’” He sings using the remote control as a microphone. He twists and turns on my bed, stopping as he looks at me then says, “Don’t be lying to me, sweet cheeks, because it won’t work. Now, confess to Mother Superior the sins you’ve committed in the name of love or lust, whichever you prefer.” Then, he bats his eyes.
I sit on the bed with a sigh of defeat. “It was a moment of weakness, okay? I promise, it won’t ever happen again.”
“Pssh, typical. You should’ve just used this excuse . . .” He pauses, clears his throat, and talks in a Bill Clinton voice. “I did not have sexual relations with that man’s cock. . . . errr only h
is finger.”
Damn my winggay’s ass to hell!
BRIAN
I’VE NEVER TALKED TO TAMI like that. Sure, we argue like normal couples do, but not with that intensity. I felt as though I were losing control enough to hit something or lose my mind completely. I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, and it bugs the shit out of me. She normally gives it to me straight, but for some odd reason, that’s not exactly what she’s doing. Roxy is my only hope since she knows everything happening to our group. Unfortunately for me, I have to wait until tomorrow since waking up a pregnant Roxy isn’t something I want to deal with.
I walk out of my old room only to find Roxy already in the kitchen eating ice cream for breakfast. Being pregnant truly messes with Roxy’s brain.
“What’s up?” She asks unexcitedly.
“Tami is being difficult. Can you tell me what’s up?”
“Hold, please.”
“What? I’m holding for what exactly? It’s a yes, I know what’s going on; or no, I don’t know, Roxy?”
“I’m putting on my Dr. Phil hat since you need some kind of intervention here. Can you tell me again what’s going on, please?”
Blowing out a very frustrated breath, I repeat myself, “Do you know what’s going on with Tami? We had an argument right after I made her cum!”
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Please hold off on anything related to cum, cumming, or any sexual seizures. I seriously need to charge you boys. Gosh, I need to add sexual therapist to my many hats.”
“Roxy! Focus!”
“Well, if you want me to focus, stop saying the word cum!”
“Fine! Just give me an answer, please. I would prefer in this lifetime.”
“Let me think. I’ll need to place you on a brief hold as I flip through the rolodex in my brain. Stop rolling your eyes, it’s so unmanly!”
How Cody puts up with Roxy’s quirks is beyond me. Who says something about a damn rolodex in her brain and puts you on hold while going through it?
“She’s insecure right now, Brian, especially after finding out about your baby secret with Lorraine. Gosh, we’ve known you for a long time, and even I didn’t know about it. Keeping that secret wasn’t cool, B. Not cool at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish eating my Ben and Jerry’s Schweddy Balls.”