by Janice Sims
“That’s fair,” he said, hoping he meant it, and walked out of the study. He wondered if Malcolm had the guts to stick around or if the boy had done what he himself would have done in his youth, bolted as fast as he could.
Devin didn’t know if he was shocked or just plain grateful to see Malcolm sulking next to his SUV. Feelings he’d had the moment he’d considered entering into a relationship with Success Unlimited surfaced again with fury. Some folks just couldn’t be rehabbed. And maybe this kid was one of them.
“Okay, kid,” he said, walking up to the young man, who looked as though his best friend had just been shot. “Your story, now.”
“I didn’t take it. Finito. End of story.”
“Then why are there three members of Red Oaks Church mad as hornets and ready to turn you over to the law?”
“I told you. They preach all men are brothers and Jesus is love. But when it comes down to it, they’re hypocrites, just like Ms. Connor says.”
A flame of anger ignited inside Devin. What had Renata been telling the boy? No wonder he was resentful.
Devin would not allow her to usurp even the smallest chance Malcolm had of becoming a decent human being.
But that was neither here nor there right now. What mattered now was whether Devin could determine Malcolm’s guilt or innocence. He resisted the urge to question him about Renata’s comment. Instead, he opened his passenger door and said, “Get in.”
Malcolm did as he was told and the two were off from the church and headed to The Bottoms.
“Are you taking me to One Time?”
“No, I’m taking you home.”
“So are they gonna meet us there?”
“No. I persuaded the parishioners not to press charges…yet.”
The Smiths lived in a really nice house…really. It was kind of a sad pink with white gray shutters and a chain-link fence. It was shaped like a rectangle turned sideways. The grass was cut, the siding was clean, and a pair of lace curtains flapped in an open window. The problem wasn’t the house at all.
It was the neighborhood.
Where this little, one-level house had cut green grass, other houses on the block had dirt, toys, and some even had trash in the yard. Where the pink siding was clean and recently washed on the Smith house, other homes had peeling paint and chipped wood.
And where the Smith’s house looked like a place you would want to come home to, others, sadly, looked to Devin like places to run away from.
Malcolm reached for the door handle on the Chevy Tahoe. Devin couldn’t let him leave, not without seeing his eyes as he asked him once again.
“Look, Malcolm. I’m sorry about all that back there.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, sounding more tired and older than he had ever sounded. The typical easy-flowing hip-hop assurance and bravado had gotten lost somewhere in the church between accusations. No, the person sitting next to him, the soon-to-be-man, looked depleted and ready to retire.
“You’re just like every other adult I’ve met in my life. You’re all the same. Judgmental. Unfair, and too preoccupied with yourself to care about anyone or anything else.” He stepped out of the car, but left door open. “It’s too bad, too. You could have been different.”
He closed the door then and headed toward the nicest little house on the block. He left Devin, who thought, Darn. That’s the same thing I was beginning to think about you.
By the time he drove home, Renata was already in front of his apartment waiting for him. Obviously, the boy had called her, told her what had happened, and she had come right over. He expected her to be her regular excitable, hyper-vigilant self. She wasn’t, though. Instead, she was calm, cool, and casual, and when they went inside, she discussed the issue of Malcolm with a level head and a practical heart.
“Malcolm said you don’t believe him.”
Devin scratched his head and sat down in on the loveseat in his living room. He was almost disappointed that she hadn’t bristled, hadn’t gotten her back up and given him a fight. He admitted he would have enjoyed sparring with her. She seemed perfectly capable of holding her own, and, more importantly, he would have gotten to see those beautiful eyes of hers flash like cinnamon fire. He could warm his whole body in that fire. He was sure of it.
“It’s a strange coincidence that suddenly—while Malcolm just happens to be cleaning up the building by himself—a painting turns up missing.”
“He wasn’t by himself. Those nosy, uh—there were several members of the congregation there with him.”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. How do you know one of them didn’t take the painting? How do you know he isn’t being set up?”
“Set up? By some silly church folk? You’ve been watching too much Law & Order.”
“Me? You’re the one who thinks that one innocent teenager, trying to turn his life around, went up in a church and stole a painting. A painting! What would someone like Malcolm want with a painting?”
“Maybe not him, but I’ll bet one of his homies would sell a painting like that to the highest bidder.”
“Please!”
That’s it, Devin thought. There’s some of the fire I’ve come to look forward to.
And he wasn’t lying. Since he’d spent so much time with Renata, he’d grown used to her spark of life. Her flicker of no nonsense. She was so unlike many of the women he knew. They could be so tame and accepting. They didn’t challenge or push back much.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that those were the kind of women he’d been drawn to. Well-mannered, well-behaved, easy-going women.
But this woman across from him was a handful. He hoped he wasn’t dazed and dazzled by what could quite possibly be the devil putting a temptress in his vision. Because lately, all he could see was Renata.
“Truce,” he said, finally. He was allowing himself to get too caught up. He could feel his judgment already clouding over, becoming fuzzy. The more he stared at her and looked her over, the more he wanted to believe anything she said. If she said Malcolm didn’t do it, then by God, he didn’t do it. And that was that. End of story, turn the lights out when you leave!
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
Not realizing he was smiling, Devin chuckled at his involuntary betrayal.
“Me…you…us maybe.”
“What about me, you…us?”
“Well, he said thoughtfully. “Maybe it is just you that I find funny. Or rather, your effect on me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked, leaning forward slightly in the seat she taken across from him. “My effect on you.”
“Even though I’m almost one hundred percent sure that that boy—”
“Malcolm.”
“Young man took the painting, just because you believe that he didn’t makes me want to believe it, too.”
“Why?” she asked, concern turning the pretty features of her face into deep lines and angles.
“Because you don’t strike me as the type of person who would believe, or not believe, in anything frivolously.”
She nodded. “I guess you’re right about that.”
“My reaction to that surprises me. Makes me laugh sometimes.”
“What’s funny is you’re just now figuring that out. I’ve known it since the moment we met.”
He laughed heartily. She was right of course. And he had pushed away his growing feelings, believing that it was ten kinds of wrong for him to fall for a woman out of the church, and that the last thing he needed was someone to change his mind about his plans to leave Red Oaks. But he was finally admitting to himself that having Renata in his life felt good. Felt right. Puffed out his chest, blew up his ego, and woke up his libido.
She was a force. A force that turned his monochrome existence into Intel Inside color. She was a brilliant light shining in a cave which had been pitch dark for far too long.
He dared not think what his life would be
like after the outreach ministry agreement was over.
“Now, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I want to kiss you so bad, angels in heaven can hear my thoughts.”
She smiled, just when he thought she couldn’t light up any brighter. “Man, those are the words I’ve been waiting weeks to hear, but right now I’m too concerned about Malcolm to do anything about it.”
Devin’s disappointment was as hard as the loveseat he sat on.
“I’ve got to prove that Malcolm is innocent. Will you help me?” she asked.
The fire in her eyes rose again. Warmed and melted him again.
“Yes,” he said, knowing he could deny her nothing. “I’ll help you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and stood.
When Devin stood with her, she walked over to deliver what was obviously a grateful peck on the cheek. Only he wasn’t satisfied with that. Instead, he made sure that their lips touched for a long, long time.
“How big is your bed, Devin?” Renata asked, breaking their kiss.
Ten
He had to grit his teeth before answering. The sweet taste of Renata’s mouth had haunted him since their first kiss.
Desire roared through his veins, an inferno, unchecked and blazing like a California wildfire. From the moment they’d met, Renata had captivated him in every way possible, her eyes, her smile, the move of her hand, an extra bounce in her behind. Now all he wanted to do was captivate her the way she had him. Take his time looking her luscious body over. Strut around to get her attention, touch her neck, her arm, her backside.
If he had been Catholic, he would have said at least a thousand “Hail Marys” by now. As it stood, he’d been on his knees more times than he could count, asking God to take away the image of Renata’s shapely figure that kept his mind active these days.
So, when she stood in the middle of his apartment and asked him about his bed, his need to be near her, closer than they’d been, to feel her heat through the night, fought with everything inside him that knew better, and won.
He pulled her to him, tilted her head up, took her mouth.
His imagination hadn’t done justice to his memory. Kissing Renata was unlike any kiss he could ever remember. So overwhelming, it made him crazy for more. Before he could get carried away, he pulled back gently.
“Devin!” Renata protested. “Why does one of us always pull away?”
“So we don’t get carried away.”
Renata sighed heavily. Her disappointment pained him. He couldn’t stand to see her unhappy.
He kissed her forehead. God, if I’m about to do wrong, please forgive me, but I think I love this woman. “Stay with me tonight.” The words came out in a whisper. He hadn’t meant them to. He could tell Renata liked the sound of the idea.
Her eyes darkened dangerously with passion. She drew her arms around his neck, stepped in closer.
He could smell her skin and feel the warmth of it. She pressed against him boldly, and oh so familiarly. He took a deep breath; she caught it with her lips, and he surrendered when her mouth possessed his.
He could not get her close enough. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling, pulling. He let his wonder of her, his fascination, take over his hands and roam over her, touching every inch.
His free will faded away and he struggled to recover it, but the moan escaping Renata’s lips became his undoing. He picked her up, swiftly, urgently, and carried her to his bedroom.
He didn’t turn on a light. Instead, he let the light from the living room be their only illumination and lay her on his bed. Her face was a beautiful combination of love, lust, and unrequited need. He meant to quench all three.
He undressed her first. Selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t wait another second to see what he’d been imagining for days and weeks.
When he removed the last article of clothing, he was not disappointed. He was surprised that his mind had not been effective at all in conjuring images of her magnificence. He’d been off, way off. There were no words to describe the brilliance of beauty that nearly blinded him.
He murmured a prayer of thanks to the Almighty for creating a woman so spectacular. Then he kissed her again.
Before she could pull him on top of her, he undressed and flung his clothes far into the corner of the room, as if they offended his flesh, as if he never wanted to see them again. He needed to rid himself of the last barrier between them.
Her eyes widened in anticipation, darkened even more with need and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with her, to her, for her.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered and walked out of the room.
“Devin,” Renata said huskily, but it was too late. He was already gone a second, maybe two, and she missed him. As if half of her body had just left the room.
Maybe he’s gone to get condoms, she hoped.
When he returned, he had a pitcher of water and a cup in his hand.
“Devin, what—” she began and sat up.
“Lay back,” he ordered, in a voice so full of sexual longing she could do nothing but obey. She breathed harder, wondering what he was doing, knowing she was so close to making love with him she could smell their need in the air. She couldn’t contain herself any longer. She had waited too long.
“Devin, please…,” she said wanting his hands on her again, roaming, finding all the places she’d imagined him touching.
He stood over her with the pitcher and the cup. He was breathing hard, too, and she could see his excitement growing before her eyes.
“Renata, I’m not going to make love to you.”
“What!” she said, not believing what she just heard.
“Relax. I want to tell you something. I want you to feel what I feel.”
She did as he asked, but her disappointment was palpable. She wondered what had changed his mind. She stared into his eyes, but nothing had changed. The need on his face was as raw as it had been just a few seconds ago.
He began to pour water into the cup in a thin slow stream.
“I love you, Renata,” he said. “I’ve fantasized about us being together, touching, kissing, making love, every day since we met.”
His words fell over her like a gentle touch. She closed her eyes and let them sink in.
“I’ve imagined your body, Renata and all the places my lips would go. Tell me, Renata. Have you imagined mine?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.” The place between her thighs throbbed urgently. She squeezed her legs together to allay the feeling.
“You think I don’t want you, haven’t wanted you. That I don’t think about you as you do me. But you’re wrong. I want you to know how much I want you, need you…love you.”
Renata gasped, and her eyes snapped open as a cool splash of liquid hit her belly.
The need in Devin’s eyes had grown even more intense. He did want her. He continued to pour. The sensation of water falling slowly on her body drove the sensual current of her longing deeper into her. She gasped again and muttered his name.
“Just like this cup, my love for you is overflowing, Renata. Do you hear me? What I feel for you is overflowing.”
Just then he placed the cup and pitcher on the nightstand and dropped to his knees. He lowered his head to her abdomen and his lips and tongue found all of the places on her body where the water had traveled.
The feeling was so exquisite she could only grab him, hold on, and whimper.
He followed the trail of wetness across her breasts, down to her navel, and down farther still, until she burst open and screamed his name.
She opened her eyes. Devin lay beside her smiling. He was still fully aroused and she resisted the deep urge to touch him where he was most sensitive.
He twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. “I wanted you to see how much I want you.”
He reached down and pulled a sheet over them. Then he reached out and held her hand and stared at her so intensely she thought he was looking st
raight into her soul. “Do you still want to make love?” he asked.
The mere question from his lips sent a hot chill vibrating through her. She could only nod. If she opened her mouth, no telling what part of Devin’s body would end up kissed by it.
“Then let this connection bring us together tonight and we will.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered.
Content to be near him in this way, Renata closed her eyes. In her sated state, she fell asleep quickly. Her dreams were filled with Devin. And in them they made love for…hours.
So as to not give an appearance of impropriety, Renata got up in the middle of the night and left Devin sleeping peacefully in his bed. She went home hoping that they’d shared a new beginning that would not end with the light of day.
The next day brought Renata a great Sunday morning surprise. Devin was at her front door, bright and smiling.
“Good day!” he said more cheerfully than she could ever remember. “I was hoping you were home.”
She opened the door wide. “Well, good day to you, too!”
He sounded good. He looked good. The blue suit he had on made him look professional and sexy at the same time. She decided to take a chance to find out whether he felt as good as he looked.
She stepped into his arms. Their embrace was magnetic—as though they’d been sealed together by an invisible force. And she was right.
He did feel good.
“This is serious, isn’t it?” she murmured nuzzling in, snuggling closer.
“Yes. If we don’t find out what really happened to that painting, my fellow parishioners are going to make sure that the police put Malcolm under the jail.”
She sighed. It was true. Although, when she’d asked about being serious, she hadn’t meant Malcolm.
Devin picked up on her meaning. He pulled away and bent down to look her in the eye.
“Yes, it is,” he said, his voice deep and silken. “It’s very serious.”
His lips kissed her chest through her blouse. The heat from his breath flowed through the cotton fabric, warming her skin. She shuddered.