Caliph lifted her off the terrace floor and swept her into his arms. He carried her through the doors, past the dimly lit living area and the remains of their midnight picnic. Toni Braxton softly sang “Breathe Again” as Caliph placed Tamela ever so gently against the large pillows on the feather-stuffed king-sized bed. Damn, baby, is that a nightstick you’re hiding?, Tamela thought. She stared at Caliph’s body as he dimmed the lights and proceeded to undress before her. Caliph was slender, with planes of muscles stretched across his body. His arms were hard as baseball bats, his shoulders broad and his stomach flat. Caliph let his trousers slide to the floor and Tamela held her breath as he slowly eased out of his boxers. A barely audible gasp escaped her lips and she said a silent thankful prayer at the sight of Caliph’s nightstick. He turned toward the teak dresser behind him and Tamela gazed at his muscular butt. When Caliph turned around, he was holding a perfect red rose from the vase on the dresser. He walked over to the bed, placing the rose next to her. “My turn,” he said, his eyes the very essence of anticipation. He slowly began to undress her without ever touching her skin. He lifted her pullover above her head, slipped her bra off her arms, slid her pants over her feet, and slowly removed her panties. Caliph’s appreciative smile broadened as each garment fell silently onto the thick carpeting. He kissed her penny-brown nipples and buried his face in the warmth and palmed her nice butt, soft and round.
She shivered as she felt him touch her moistness with his fingers. Caliph kissed Tamela’s forehead and then her nose and lingered at her lips. He kissed her neck, her breasts, and tongued her navel, causing Tamela to moan softly.
“I found the spot,” he smiled.
“Oh, that’s not it,” Tamela laughed.
“Is this it?” He said as he dropped to the floor and kissed her toes and tried to put her entire foot in his mouth.
“Not even close,” she sighed.
He moved his tongue up to her knees and quizzed, “Am I getting close?”
“Yes.”
Caliph moved up toward her inner thighs and his tongue played her body as his fingers had the piano keys, with strength and sensitivity. Tamela sensed such pleasure that she felt like a full glass of milk about to spill over the edge of the glass. Caliph planted a warm kiss where her soft hair met her legs and he kissed her along the opening of her sex as she placed her hands on his shoulders and raised her hips to meet his lips. Amid the warmth and softness, he found a hardness and he pushed his tongue up under it.
“Oh my … oh baby,” Tamela moaned as she massaged his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair.
Caliph stopped for a moment and looked up at her and said, “You taste sweet.” He teased her with his tongue and prolonged her pleasure.
“Oh,” Tamela moaned.
“Just enjoy it, baby. I’m gonna love you right,” he declared as he buried his head in her lap and started to kiss her sex again. Caliph raised his head and started to kiss her breasts with an open mouth, then he took his fingers and slid them into Tamela’s center, and before she realized it, she had an orgasm with Caliph’s large fingers inside her. He laid his head on her breasts and pumped his own thick sex against her thigh. Sweat popped across his forehead as Tamela leaned down and placed her tongue in his ear. She sweetly kissed his chest and was rushing him toward a swift sexual sensation when he exploded like a geyser, sending creamy drops into the air and onto his chest.
For several minutes, they lay speechless in the center of the bed wrapped in each other’s arms. When Caliph finally spoke, he leaned over and kissed Tamela and said, “You’re sweeter than sugar.” A slow smile came over her face. She was thinking, You think that was something. Too bad you didn’t have a condom. Baby, I’m like a coconut, hard to crack, but wonderful once you really get inside.
CHAPTER 19
UNTIL YOU COME BACK TO ME
Mia reread the court subpoena, for the third time, instructing her to report to the criminal court Thursday morning. She poured herself another generous glass of wine and decided she would call her lawyer first thing Monday for advice on what she should do. She did not want to appear before a judge and admit that she had been too drunk the night of the attack to tell the court anything. But what could she do? She had been raped, but had no idea who had done it. The only thing she suspected was that Zurich was not the one. Her memory of his rejection, though painful, had returned. She was hoping that her entire memory of that night would return, replacing the fragments, before Thursday. Friday evening when she’d returned from getting her hair cut, Mia had been surprised by a process server with the subpoena. She was standing at her front door, just about to insert the key, when out of nowhere the server had come up behind her. When he’d called her name, she’d turned and said, “Yes?” He’d promptly placed the white legal paper in her hands, spoiling what had turned out to be a good day. Her conversation with MamaCee had been quite inspirational, and when Mia unexpectedly found herself hugging the old woman before she left the shop, she felt as though MamaCee’s powerful return hug had transferred some type of special strength. She was just going to have to use it a little bit sooner than she had hoped.
Mia picked up her glass of wine and headed upstairs to retire for the evening. As she walked through her townhouse, Mia kept touching her hair, feeling the short tight curls. She had stopped to check her front door to make sure it was securely locked. Mia opened the door and was preparing to lock it when up walked her second surprise guest of the evening. Derrick, with his six-six, Pogo-stick body, was standing at her front steps and smiling at her. For a moment Mia stood blinking to make sure she was seeing right, and when her eyes focused, she tried to close the door in his face, but not before he called out her name.
“Mia, please don’t shut the door on me,” he pleaded.
Leaving the door cracked a bit, Mia remained silent for a few seconds and then asked, “Derrick, what are you doing here?”
“I’m working on a project. I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks. Mia, please, I don’t want to hurt you. I just wanted to see how you are doing,” he said. Derrick was wearing a blue dress shirt, a loosened silk tie, dark blue lightweight pants, and perfectly polished black loafers.
Mia looked him directly in the eyes, which suddenly looked like eyes she could trust. If she was going to follow MamaCee’s advice and start to forgive, then why not start with Derrick. She slowly opened the glass storm door, and Derrick ducked his head slightly as he walked in.
“You have a beautiful place,” he said as he looked around her living room. “But I shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve always had good taste.”
“Thanks, Derrick, have a seat,” Mia said as she looked into her wineglass and saw that it was half empty. She needed more. As she headed toward the kitchen, she looked at Derrick and said, “I’m out of rum, but would you like some bourbon or some wine?”
“Oh no, I don’t drink anymore. Do you have some mineral water or some juice?”
While Mia was in the kitchen, Derrick stood up and walked over to admire her Jacob Lawrence painting and then moved to the sofa table and picked up a picture of Mia with Tanya and her parents. He asked Mia how they were doing but she didn’t hear him, since she was checking to make sure her back door was locked and wondering if she had done the right thing by letting Derrick in. He started to join Mia in the kitchen but instead went back and sat on the sofa.
Derrick not drinking anymore, Mia thought. Maybe he had changed. Mia turned up her glass to swallow the last of her wine, while she reached in the fridge for the balance of the bottle and the apple juice she would give Derrick.
Walking back into the living room, Mia almost fell when she tripped over a throw rug separating her small dining area from the living room. Derrick leaped from the sofa and caught Mia by the arm. His touch was stern, yet soft. “Are you all right? Did you hear me talking to you?”
“I’m fine, and no,” Mia said as she pulled her arms from Derrick’s grasp and crossed the room to the sofa
.
“I asked you how your parents and Tanya were doing,” Derrick repeated as he walked over to the arm chair.
“Fine.”
“How much have you been drinking?”
“Look, if this going to be the first degree, then you’re going to have to leave,” Mia said. He hadn’t changed that much, she thought, asking questions like he had the right to know about her life.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to dip in your business, but your eyes are glassy. You know, I can come back later,” he said. Mia was getting ready to tell Derrick he should leave, but then she realized she didn’t want to be alone. She knew what she could do to make Derrick stay. She got up from her spot on the sofa and went to the arm chair; she flopped down onto his lap, and put her arms around his neck.
Derrick was surprised, but pleased, because he still cared a great deal for Mia. He was once deeply in love with her, but he had lost her love because of his mistakes and her stern refusal to forgive.
Looking in Derrick’s eyes, Mia thought he looked more handsome than when she had first seen him standing outside the television station in Jackson. He had Cracker Jack-colored skin, thick curly black hair, and light brown eyes with eyelashes most women dreamed of, and a full-lipped mouth that was oversized, like a mold for lips. He had seen Mia on television the first night she appeared in his hometown. Derrick had been so blown away by her beauty that he rushed out, bought a dozen red roses, and waited at the station’s back door until Mia came out. He called out her name, and when she turned to see who in her new city knew her, he placed the beautiful roses in her arms, as if she had just been crowned Miss America, and said, “Welcome to Jackson.”
When Mia got back to her apartment, she’d smiled as she smelled the roses and read the card, with another “welcome” message and his home and office number. A couple of days later Mia had called, and after a breathless first date and night of passion they’d quickly become a couple. A couple heading for the altar until the night he’d slapped Mia.
“You’re still the most beautiful woman, I know,” Derrick stuttered. He didn’t recall Mia being so aggressive.
She had not eaten very much during the day, and the wine had already gone to her head. “Hush,” Mia said softly as she kissed Derrick. He kissed her back and he could taste the wine. But Mia didn’t stop with the kiss. She stood up and pulled her sweatshirt and Lycua bra over her head as though they were one piece. She was used to him removing her clothing but since he was moving a little slow, Mia decided to take the lead. Derrick was shocked as Mia sat back in his lap, with her breasts flopping in his face. She started to kiss him once again as her fingers searched for the buttons of his cotton shirt. One by one, Mia undid the buttons until she could see and feel the chest she had once slept on nightly. She started to kiss his nipples, when suddenly Derrick pushed her back and said, “Mia, come on, whatsup? This is not like you.”
“What’s the matter, Derrick, isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this what you came for?” she asked as she pushed her breasts toward his chest.
“Mia, I just came to talk with you. To see how you’re doing.” While Derrick still loved sex as much as the next guy, it was not the reason he wanted to see Mia. He had changed, but so had Mia.
“I’m doing just fine. I just need some loving. What does a girl have to do to get laid? You can have it anyway you want it,” she bragged. “You want it from the back, then I’m game for that, too.”
“Mia, I’m going to leave. Maybe we can get together early next week, when you’re feeling better,” he said as he tried to button up his shirt. She looked at him in disbelief as he headed toward the door.
The thought of being alone brought Mia to tears. She started to cry and pleaded with him, “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.” He could hear the anxiety in her voice, but he didn’t want her to fear him. He wanted her to see that he had changed.
Derrick held Mia in his arms, and said, “Come here close to me, baby girl. What’s the matter?” He pulled her close to his chest and held her as if he were protecting her from the outside world. As he held Mia, Derrick realized that she did not fear him but that she was simply afraid of being alone.
For several minutes, the tears came freely. When they finally stopped, Derrick was wiping her face with a towel. Mia began to tell Derrick what had happened with the rape and her suspension. While Mia was telling him what she remembered he held one of her hands tightly as he gently stroked her tearstained face with his other hand. When he asked her who raped her, his voice was soft and urgent as if he were going to rush out of the townhouse and take care of whoever had done this to her. But Mia didn’t know where to tell him to run, whom to find and punish for what had happened.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember a lot of what happened,” Mia said.
“What are the police doing? Why aren’t your parents here?”
“Please, I don’t want them to know. I don’t want them worrying about me,” Mia said.
“What about Tanya? She would want to know, Mia. You can’t stay here and suffer all by yourself. Your parents and sister love you. They would want to help,” Derrick said.
“I don’t want their help. I deserve what happened. It’s payback,” Mia said, as she expressed her inner fear.
“What are you talking about? Nobody deserves to be raped. What does this have to do with your family?”
Mia reached for her glass of wine, but Derrick stopped her and said, “You don’t need this.”
“Just one more sip,” Mia pleaded. “I have something to tell you, and I just need one more sip.”
“Trust me, Mia. You don’t need this and you can tell me anything,” he said firmly.
Mia looked at Derrick, took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and slowly and quietly her words emerged.
“I said I deserved to be raped, because I’m not a good person,” Mia began. When Derrick interrupted with a firm, “No,” Mia said, “Yes,” and placed a hand to his lips so she could continue her story. “When I was in high school, right about the time I started drinking, my sister and I went on a double date. It was one of Tanya’s first dates and the only reason she got to go was because I promised to look after her. So, when her date went home, she came with me over to my boyfriend’s house. While I was back in his bedroom, making out and drinking, Tanya was sitting in the living room watching television. I didn’t want her in the back room with me ’cause she didn’t know I was drinking. Well, I guess I drank too much because I passed out for a little while,” Mia said as tears began to form in her eyes again.
“Here, drink some of this,” Derrick said as he put the glass of apple juice to Mia’s dry lips. She took a sip and returned to her story. “When I woke up and ran out to see if Tanya was okay, I saw … I saw …” Mia paused as her throat thickened with emotion.
“What happened, baby? What happened to Tanya?” Derrick asked.
“My boyfriend’s father was on top of my sister, raping her with a sofa pillow over her mouth to keep her from screaming. He had ripped her clothes and was yelling, ‘Shut the fuck up, you little bitch, you’re going to wake everybody up.’ I ran over and started hitting him as hard as I could, but then my boyfriend came out, pushed me out of the way, and tried to pull his father off my sister. When I saw her face, I wanted to die. She looked like, oh, I don’t know.… It was all my fault,” Mia cried.
“What happened? Was this guy arrested? Did you girls tell your parents?”
“No, no. We just went home, sneaking in so my parents wouldn’t see Tanya. And we never told anyone. It was our secret, our shame.” She paused and wiped her eyes with her hands. Derrick took off his shirt and draped it around Mia’s shoulders and she began to talk again. “So, you see, my rape was for a reason. It was payback for what I let happened to my little sister. And I never said I was sorry. I don’t know why, but I didn’t,” Mia cried as she turned her face into Derrick’s bare chest and let her tears begin to wash away the years of silence and pai
n.
When Mia awoke on Saturday afternoon, she felt worse than the night before. She had the hangover from hell. Derrick was lying beside her in bed, fully clothed, smiling in a way he hoped was comforting. He gently felt the softness of her skin and leaned over to smell her hair. As his head brushed against her face and as he moved to kiss her all along her arm, Mia had a bit of her memory return. She recalled her attacker pushing his coarse hair against her breasts, and all over her skin, down to her center. But she couldn’t remember his face, or who he was, and now she was certain he wasn’t Zurich. His shaved head was one of the things that had attracted her to him.
“How ya doing?” he asked.
“How did I get up here?” Mia asked when she realized she had only her panties on. She didn’t remember coming to bed. A small piece of her memory returned, another part vanished.
“I carried you upstairs,” Derrick said.
“What time is it?” Mia asked.
“It’s a little bit after twelve,” Derrick said.
“Oh, wow, I’ve slept the day away, “Mia said as she looked for her robe. Derrick noticed this, went to her bathroom, and brought back a cotton robe that was resting on the bathroom door.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah, thanks, Derrick. You’ve been here all night?”
And This Too Shall Pass Page 27