by J. Nichole
Chris returns from the kitchen carrying our plates and the aroma trailing him is heavenly. A mix of garlic and cheeses reaches my nose before he can set the plates down.
“I hope you don’t mind lasagna. I had a craving and called my mom for the recipe.”
“I don’t mind at all. I know you can cook, and this meal won’t disappoint.” Examining the plate that’s decked out with a nice serving of lasagna, salad, and a slice of garlic bread I nod my approval. “Thank you for doing all of this for me.”
“Anytime. Besides, if the flowers weren’t enough, I knew food would get me back in your good graces.” Chris smiles and takes a bite of his food. “How was the rest of your weekend?”
“I’m not going to lie. I was miserable. The girls tried hard to keep my spirits up but I was ready to get back to school.” My second encounter with Josh will be left unmentioned. No need to rock the boat.
“They say the strength of a relationship lies within the way a couple handles a fight. Promise me, no matter how upset you are with me, you won’t ignore me.” Reaching for my hand, he continues, “That shooting at the club was a huge eye opener.”
“I promise. I’m sorry I caused you to worry. But I am glad we all made it out safely.”
Chris peers over at my plate that is now almost empty. “Were you hungry?”
Looking down, I laugh. “I guess I was.”
Chris grabs our plates and walks towards the kitchen. “I’ll meet you in my room.”
Digging through Chris’ dresser, I pull out a t-shirt. Pulling off everything except my panties I throw on his shirt and crawl under his comforter. As I lay waiting, I hear commotion in the living room. I’m sure his roommates have returned. There goes our privacy.
The door swings open abruptly, and my eyes bulge out of my head. "Hey…"
“If you’re looking for Chris he’s in the kitchen.”
“My bad, Laila. Didn’t realize you were here.” Chris walks in behind his frat brother and pushes him out the door.
I hear them talking outside the cracked door. “Yo, I didn’t know your girl was here.” Then his frat brother’s voice softens to a whisper and I can’t hear what he is saying. Even as I strain my ears, I hear nothing.
Chris walks back into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “Sorry about that. These dudes aren’t like my old roommates.”
“Don’t worry about it. Thankfully, I was under the covers.” Pulling the covers back to reveal how scantily dressed I am, I signal him to join me. “Come here.”
His grin widens. "Gladly." Lying beside me, he nuzzles his nose into my neck and inhales. "Damn I missed you babe." His hand roams under the shirt and he pulls me closer to his body. "I just want to hold you tonight. Not even sex you."
Snapping my head around, I look at him and pout. “I was looking forward to the make-up sex. I hear it’s the best.”
Chris laughs and shakes his head. “Considering I hope we never have a reason to have make-up sex again that’s hard to pass up.” Rubbing my stomach he says, “But tonight, I just want to hold you.”
Sighing, I kiss his lips. “We may need a pillow between us then.”
Ignoring my request, Chris closes the little remaining space between us. I squirm as he caresses my stomach and titties. His hands move south between my thighs and I whisper, “You can hold me but don’t tease me.”
He pulls his hand back and wraps his arm around my waist. “Sorry. You’re hard to resist.”
I push my ass into his crotch as his erection rises. “Hard indeed.” Pulling a pillow from the other side of the bed I wedge it between us. Although my juices are flowing, I close my eyes and relax in his arms.
Chapter Six
Campus seems eerily quiet, and I’ve only passed a few people on my way from the English building to the Journalism building. The overcast sky and the threat of storms have everyone indoors or skipping class today. I had an exam and had to be on campus. Lucky me.
Hopefully, Professor Douglas is in his office. He’s been M.I.A. lately. When I open the door to the building I hear thunder just before the sky falls out and the showers begin.
When I get to Professor Douglas’ door, it’s open and I can see him at his desk, looking over papers. I knock on the door and he looks up smiling. “Come on in, Ms. Jackson.”
“Dr. Douglas, I feel like I haven’t seen much of you this semester. Where have you been?" Freshman year I had Dr. Douglas as a professor and stayed in his office for help with my assignments. Over time he became a father figure. He was always concerned about my life outside of the classroom, making sure my relationship with Chris didn't get in the way of my coursework.
With sad eyes, Dr. Douglas sits back in his chair. “Ah dear, I’ve been around. Taking a few days off here and there to enjoy myself.”
“I wish I could do the same.” I smile at him slightly but something tells me he isn’t telling the whole truth. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“I have to love yuh journalism students. Always probing.” His Jamaican accent prevalent more when he is scolding me, he points a shaky finger at me. “I’ve fallen a little ill lately. But nothing a few home remedies can’t cure, I’m sure.”
“And Mrs. Douglas, how is she doing? Busy taking care of you?”
Professor Douglas looks away. “She’s fine. How is that young man yuh started dating last year?”
“We are still dating and he is doing good. He stuck around for the M.B.A. program.”
“Good. Make sure yuh tend to yuh studies and don’t let the gentleman take up too much of yuh time.”
“Yes sir. I’m not going to keep you too long, but I’ll be back to check in on you. Take care of yourself, Dr. Douglas.”
“Thank yuh for yuh concern, Ms. Jackson.” He turns his attention back to his papers.
The rain is still coming down aggressively. Walking across campus to my car is out of the question. My next class isn’t for a couple of hours. I turn towards the atrium, which is the hot spot to hang between classes.
The atrium is packed, but I find a seat next to a few girls from my Intro to Mass Media class. I interrupt their whispering, “Hey ladies.”
Breaking their discussion they both look up and say, “Hello.” Then turn back to each other and continue whispering.
Not one to miss out on gossip, I lay my bags down and try to lean in to listen. I hear them mention Dr. Douglas and a young female. Now I'm curious. “Sorry, I just heard you mention Dr. Douglas. I just left his office. What’s going on?”
Sarah looks at me with eyes wide-open but doesn’t speak. She looks to her friend then shrugs her shoulders. “We heard there’s a junior who is pressing charges against him for sexual harassment.”
A loud gasp escapes my mouth just as my heart drops into my stomach. “That can’t be true. Professor Douglas wouldn’t do that. He loves his wife.”
Sarah nods her head in agreement. “I don’t think it’s true either, but you know some of these girls are scandalous.”
Her friend snickers. "I wouldn't be surprised. I hear professors do it too often. Love his wife or not, men are men." I have to check myself as curse words begin to form on my lips. Instead, I just shake my head.
Looking to Sarah and ignoring her friend, I say, “Keep me posted.” I grab my Physical Science book and turn a few pages. Not Professor Douglas, he wouldn’t do this.
“You may be keeping me posted. I hear the newspaper staff will be covering it this week.”
I snap my head around to look at Sarah. “We can’t write an article about one of our own.”
“If we avoided writing stories about people we are connected with the news wouldn’t be told.”
“You have a point.” Although the air is blasting, I feel like my armpits are soaked. Since coming back this semester I have been heavily involved with the L.U. newspaper. My articles have varied in importance from changes to the cafeteria menu to student grade-change scandals. But I’m not at all interested
in reporting on Professor Douglas and an alleged assault.
The other girl sucks her teeth. “You sure are defensive. What’s that all about?”
“Professor Douglas has been a father-figure to me. I can always count on him to listen to my problems and offer sound advice.”
She rolls her head and continues scrolling on her computer.
When I walk into the front door of the apartment, I stop to take off my shoes and drop my umbrella. Monica looks at me and says, “You were probably the only one on campus in this hurricane rain.” She laughs. “Even I skipped class.”
Standing with my clothes sticking to me, I nod my head. “Campus was empty, but I had a test.” I hear talking coming from the back of the apartment. “Who is that?”
Monica puts her finger to her lips and whispers, “Jennifer has a dude here. A fine looking man at that.” She smiles.
My eyes stretch. "Good, hopefully, Jennifer is getting past the situation with her ex." Monica's phone rings and she looks at the screen. Groaning she puts the phone down. "I assume that was a do not answer.” I ease down beside her at the kitchen table.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s Collin. He calls every day. I’m tempted to tell him how old I am so he’ll leave me alone.”
“Dude from the classic? Wait. Did you see him before we left Atlanta?”
“Yes.” She looks away from me.
“And.”
“I gave him some loving. Big mistake.” She looks back at her phone. “This dude is talking about wanting to come visit and everything.”
"Back up a minute. When did you see Collin?"
“The night before we left. Everyone was asleep and I snuck out.”
Shaking my head, I look at Monica with a straight face. “You have to be careful. What if he was a psycho? You would have disappeared without a trace.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Monica says, “You’re right. I should have said something so someone could have talked me out of it.”
"If you never answer the phone he'll get the picture and stop calling… hopefully." Grabbing at my wet shirt, I stand up. "I should get out of these wet clothes before I get sick."
Before I can get to my door, I see Jennifer walking out of her room with her dude. She stops and introduces him. "Hey Laila, this is Steve." Steve is tall, and nothing but legs. He could use some cornbread, steak, and potatoes… hell anything to thicken him up a bit. I cut my eyes at Monica, who is trying to contain her laugh.
"Hello, Laila." His voice is high-pitched and sounds like he is stuck in puberty.
“Hey Steve.” I walk into my room and begin stripping out of my soaked clothes. Slipping on my robe, I hear my phone ding with a text message. I grab my phone and look at the screen.
Josh: Did you make it back safely?
Laila: I did. Did you?
My phone rings while I’m waiting for Josh to respond. It’s Chris.
“Hey babe.” He must have some sick sixth sense. He always knows when Josh is sniffing.
“I was missing you, but with this rain I didn’t think you’d come over. So I grabbed some dinner and I’ll be over in a minute.”
“Aw thanks, babe. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up the phone and walk into the bathroom. My hair is a mess and I could use a shower. I turn on the shower and while I wait for the water to get warm I pull out a sundress.
The bathroom is steamy from the shower. I peel off my robe and step into the water. The water runs down my back and I lather up trying to hurry. I should delete those messages from Josh.
I hear a knock at the door and I rinse then step out of the shower. Instead of throwing on my dress I slip back into my robe. Chris is sitting on my bed and when he sees me he opens his arms wide. I step into his embrace. He pulls back and says, “Your phone has been going off.”
“Oh okay. What’d you bring for dinner?”
“I brought a few Chop boxes from Chubby’s. I figured your roommates might get hungry tonight too. I know how you ladies are about your hair and not getting wet.” He laughs.
“That’s sweet.” And my phone buzzes again.
I try to ignore it but Chris looks around the room. “You should probably get that.”
Walking over to my dresser, I grab my phone. One message from Josh, saying he made it home safely; then one message from the editor of the newspaper.
Evan: Call me when you get a minute. I need to talk to you about an article.
My heart starts to pound. I plop down beside Chris. “I need to call the editor of the newspaper.”
“Alright, need me to step out?”
"No, you're all right." I dial Evan's number. "Hey, Evan."
“Hey, Laila. Thanks for getting back to me. I’m sure you’ve heard about Professor Douglas.”
“Evan, we can’t cover that.”
“We have no choice, Laila. But that’s why I’m calling you. I know you have a good relationship with him and I know you won’t trash him in the article.”
“Do we have any details about the investigation?”
I look at Chris while I listen to Evan, and he is shaking his head.
“And when are we trying to print?”
“This week, Friday.” The least read of all the days.
“Alright, I’ll start working on it. Can you send me her info?”
“I’ll do that. And thanks, Laila.”
“Talk to you later.”
When I lower the phone I close my eyes. Dear God, help me through this week.
“That conversation seems like it was tough. You alright?”
Turning to look Chris in the eyes, I shrug my shoulders. “This will be the true test of my journalistic abilities.”
“What’s going on?”
I inhale deeply. “Professor Douglas is being investigated for sexual assault on a girl from the junior class.”
“The Dr. Douglas that you are always visiting?” He narrows his eyes. “From what you’ve said, doesn’t seem like he would do anything like that.”
“I don’t believe it. And I don’t want to give it any credit by covering it.”
Chris tugs at the slit in my robe, exposing my titty. "You're right. It will test your will as a journalist." Kissing my chest he says, "But this is what you want. You can do it, and do it well."
Chris lays me back on the bed and plants kisses all over my neck. I reach up and lock my door, then turn to him and return his kisses.
“How can I resist you with your body half concealed by this thin robe?” Thunder roars as the rain pounds against the window. “And this rain just adds to the mood.”
Smiling as Chris turns me over, massaging my shoulders. I could get used to this. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you but if this robe is all it takes to turn you on I need to wear it more often.”
“Your shoulders are a bit tense.” He glides his hand down my back and between my thighs. “I know just what you need to release this stress.”
“Is that right?”
“But we don’t need your roommates hearing you as it’s released.” Feeling around the bed Chris grabs my phone. “Here let’s turn on some music.” He fumbles with my phone then says, “You have a text from Josh.”
Shit.
“Yeah he was checking to make sure I made it back to school okay from Atlanta.”
“Hmm.” He hands me my phone. “How about some R. Kelly.”
With Chris looking over my shoulder I unlock my phone and open the Pandora app. LSG’s My Body starts playing. Not quite R. Kelly but hopefully it will take Chris’ mind off of Josh’s text message.
Chris lies beside me. “The thought of you being with someone else drives me crazy.”
“Now you know exactly how I felt when I saw you dancing with that chick in Atlanta.” Resting on my elbow, I stare at Chris. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t want anyone else.”
"I promise never to make you feel like that again."
With my pinky in the air I say, “Pinky promise?”
Laughing, Chris puts two fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
Locking lips, I straddle Chris with every intention of showing him he’s my one and only. It only takes a few seconds for my body to respond. I can feel the moisture filling my panties. I crawl off of Chris and walk to my dresser in search of a condom.
Chris sits up. “What are you looking for?”
Shuffling my clothes around, I mumble, “A condom.”
"I got you, babe." I scoot back to the bed as he reaches into his pocket for the condom. "One day we won't need these."
With my brows arched I say, “We’ll have to be married for that to happen.”
Chris smiles. “Like I said… one day we won’t need these.” After Chris takes off his pants and rolls on the condom I remount him, easing down inch by inch.
Riding him until my legs feel weak I flip over on my back and pull Chris on top of me. His intensity is felt with each thrust. Almost as if nature is in agreement, thunder breaks through as my back arches and I scream out, “Yes!” As I lie motionless, Chris smiles gently while he slowly continues to stroke, letting me rest for a few seconds before he pounds into me again. Then his body quivers and he collapses beside me.
With my eyes closed, I imagine what life would be like as Mrs. Clark.
Chapter Seven
Walking into Up Late Cafe, I scan the room for the curly top girl with a tan complexion. In a corner, with her head down, I think I spot Kim. As I approach her table she lifts her head, and her puffy eyes do not complement her make-up-free face. Much different from her Facebook pictures. Before meeting with Kim today I had to do my research. I checked out all her social networks, talked to a few of her friends, and even one of her professors.
She seems like a credible source, but I still can’t believe her accusations against Professor Douglas are true. With my hand on the seat across from her I say, “Hi, Kim?” She slowly nods her head and I sit down.