by Swann, Rylee
I shake my head. I want her to be in control so that I’m not responsible for any of this.
“Alright then, this is what I want.” Stradling my legs, she sits in my lap, grinding down hard on my cock. “Mmm, that’s nice. Isn’t it?” I nod, not trusting my voice. She lifts her ass a bit and disappointment rockets through me. “Tell me, Johnny.” She looks into my eyes until I meet her gaze. “What brought you here tonight?”
Her question takes me by surprise. “What?” Slowly, I force my arms back down to their limp positions on either side of me. It’s taking the willpower of a saint not to grab her and crush her to me.
Her body is in constant motion, undulating, her tits presented to me then snatched away. “Oh, you know.” She chuckles, a throaty, intoxicating sound. “Men come to places like this when they have stuff on their minds. They want the rush of the almost naughty. They also want a sympathetic ear.” She leans forward and rests her head against my chest. “Tell me what’s troubling you?”
I’ve never met an exotic dancer like Candi. She’s smart, insightful, and sexy as all fuck. It’s a potent combination and I find myself wanting to bare my soul to her. That’s not what comes out of my mouth though.
“Nothing’s troubling me, Candi with an i.” Even as I say the words I sense she can hear the lie in them.
She offers a small sigh, her breath warm on my neck. “I don’t believe you.” She grinds down on me again and presses her sweet tits against my chest. “This isn’t what you came here for, is it? Let me in. Get it off your chest. I want to help.”
She stops rocking on my length but continues to sit firmly on it. One hand rises and entangles itself in my hair.
“You’re very…” I clear my throat, my voice rough with desire, “persuasive.”
She laughs, its vibration coursing through my body. “I know. I minor in psychology.” She raises her head and gives a devilish grin before putting her head on my shoulder. “Talk to me.”
Getting the impression that she really wants to know, it’s almost a relief to tell her.
“When I was five, child protective services took me away from my parents and placed me with my much older brother. I love him. Fuck, I’d take a bullet for him. But…” I shake my head and let it fall against the back of the sofa. “I guess I kind of always resented not having my parents in my life.” Candi nods and strokes my head. In this moment, I can’t recall a time I’ve felt more comforted. “Around a month ago… Fuck, this is hard.”
“It’s alright. Take your time,” she croons. “Hey, remember when I told you how handsome you are?” I look up. She’s stroking my ego now. Damn, she’s good. “It wasn’t a line. You are grade-A fine. It’s why I snatched you up so fast and left your friends for the other girls.”
I snort, my mouth widening into a grin. “Sweetheart, I know I’m a catch but this isn’t—”
“Shhh, what happened a month ago?”
“My parents called me.”
The breath rushes out of me and I deflate, sinking farther into the loveseat and taking Candi with me.
“Wow, that must have been shocking,” she says softly.
“You don’t know the half of it.” I keep my tone light, trying to hide my devastation, and the words come out too light.
“What did they want?” Another question to keep me talking.
“They want to see me,” I spit the words out angrily.
She curls herself closer against me. It doesn’t feel sexual anymore. It’s so damned comforting, I could cry.
“Are you going to?”
“I don’t know.”
And, that’s the truth. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve changed my mind a dozen or more times.
“What’s stopping you?” Her voice is kitten-soft.
I don’t answer for several long minutes. The answer to that question is something I’ve never spoken aloud. I don’t want to say the words at all, but I’m wrapped in a cocoon of safety. I’ll never see this precious girl again, so I can tell her anything. That’s how this is supposed to work. Just like bartenders are there to listen to women bitch about their men, Candi is here for me.
“My brother is thirteen years older than me.” I bark out a laugh. “You know what that means?” She says nothing. Her fingers dig into my hair, her nails lightly scraping my scalp as she strokes my head. “I’ll tell you what the fuck it means.” My voice cracks and I take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, the laugh that follows not a pleasant sound. “I was a fucking mistake. They never fucking wanted me. I’ll bet they were fucking glad CPS took me away!”
I bury my face in Candi’s hair, breathing in deep of her sweet floral scent. My eyes are moist. What a fucking baby I am. Yet, I feel such relief at finally revealing my greatest fear that I almost want to cry.
“Oh, Johnny, I’m so sorry you’ve had to live with this pain for so long.” Her voice is muted against my chest. “But you can’t possibly know this for a fact. You’re just guessing based on the age difference, right?”
I snort, blinking away any evidence of my emotions. “What else could it mean?”
She doesn’t answer for a minute, her chest rising and falling hypnotically against mine. “Maybe—and I’m not saying this is true, I’m just giving you another possibility—maybe you were an accident. But you became the unexpected joy of their lives.” Her hand caresses its way from my head to my arm, stroking softly.
I start to chide her for being so naïve but stop as her words take hold.
Could it be? Have I been looking at it the wrong way all this time?
I struggle to sit upright, dislodging Candi from my lap as I rise to my feet. I’m too on edge to sit still, suddenly feeling like a livewire, my brain spinning with new ideas. New… hope?
“Woah.” Candi laughs as she finds herself sitting on the couch by herself. “I guess you liked that idea?”
I too laugh and it feels good. Never could I have imagined that I’d be laughing mere moments after such a terrible confession.
I hold out my hands for Candi’s and pull her up. “You are a beautiful, amazing woman, Candi with an i. Thank you.” Letting go of her hands, I reach for my wallet and count out five one-hundred-dollar bills. “You earned this tonight, sweetheart.” I crush the money into her hands. “I gotta go. Thank you again.”
Grateful for her psychological prowess, I leave, feeling better than I have in a long time.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jaelin
I heave the shopping bags onto the counter, grateful that chore is done. They’re heavy but nothing is too good for my Johnny. Tonight’s dinner has to be perfect. I haven’t seen him in almost two weeks. We’ve texted, spoken by phone but neither are as good as physically being with him. Nothing can go wrong tonight. I’m going to tell him the news. That we’re having a baby.
A nervous thrill rushes through me. Please let him be happy about the news. When I called earlier today to invite him to dinner, I could hear the reluctance in his voice. I know tomorrow is a work day but it’s not like I’m asking him to go to the moon with me. Dinner together on a Tuesday shouldn’t be an imposition. I don’t know what’s going on with him and I’m worried. Only a short time ago, he was spending more time here than at his place.
Please don’t let this be the beginning of the end.
Please.
Forcing my thoughts to better things, I unpack the groceries. I need music. Yes, music will brighten my mood.
“Okay, Google, play The Beatles, Abbey Road album on shuffle.”
A moment later, the sweet strains of “Here Comes the Sun” begin and I sing along happily while lining up the ingredients for veal parmesan with linguini and antipasto salad. Store-bought tiramisu from one of the best bakeries in all of Brooklyn is for dessert. All of Johnny’s favorites. I just hope I can get through cooking and eating without throwing up. Morning sickness can be a bitch when it lasts all day.
When I’ve finished the food prep and the veal is cooking in its j
uices on the stove, I dash to my bedroom to change into something more appropriate for the occasion. Sweat shorts and a crop top simply won’t do for an announcement dinner such as this.
First, I change my undergarments to a matching set of black lacy bra and panties. Then, after staring at the contents of my closet for I don’t know how long, I finally choose a slinky black miniskirt and low-cut emerald green shirt that goes great with my blonde hair. I’m barefoot but I plan to put on a pair of black heels later.
Checking my makeup in the bathroom mirror, I touch up as needed and return to the kitchen, unable to keep a brilliant smile off my face. My baby’s daddy will be here soon, and I get to tell him the news. The smile falters for just a moment as butterflies flit about in my stomach but I push my fears away. I love Johnny and he loves me and everything will be all right. As if to confirm that thought, “Come Together” starts playing.
An hour later, dinner is almost ready. I had it timed perfectly, except that I didn’t account for Johnny being late. He should have been here twenty minutes ago. He’s not usually late—one of the many things I love about him—so where is he? Absently wringing my hands, I walk to the window that overlooks the street, willing him to appear.
No such luck.
When another ten minutes go by, I text him: Johnny, are you okay?
Five minutes pass, and no reply.
If he stands me up, I’ll just die.
Twenty minutes later, I turn off the burner and put the pan with the veal in the oven on its lowest setting to keep it warm. Frowning and gnawing on my lower lip, I can’t help but be concerned that something has happened to him. It’s not like Johnny to go radio silent. Even if he was ditching me, he’d call or text. He wouldn’t make me worry like this. Or would he? If he was breaking up with me… No, I refuse to believe that.
More time goes by and I text him again with no reply. When I call, it goes to voicemail. Sighing because I don’t want to talk to a machine, I leave a message.
When it’s obvious he’s not going to respond to my messages, I stand in the center of my kitchen feeling helpless and just a little hopeless. I’m pregnant with his baby and it looks like he’s ghosting me.
With a deep sigh, I turn off the oven and check the time. He was supposed to be here at seven and now it’s ten thirty. How did it get so late? I have to face the fact that he’s not coming.
Hhhjkdjfdkjf
Loud, repetitive knocking at my front door makes me jump. In my bra and panties, I grab a robe and thrust my arms into it as I head for the door. The banging doesn’t stop.
“Baby, lemme in!” Johnny’s voice comes from the other side amidst more banging.
“Johnny?” I know it’s him but the noise he’s making isn’t conducive to rational thought. “Stop knocking!”
There’s a series of uproarious guffaws on the other side of the door. “Lemme in!”
I throw open the door, ready to yell at him. Now that he’s here, instead of being worried, my anger boils over.
He waltzes in like he’s done nothing wrong, spinning on his heel like some macho ass to look at me. His eyes practically pop out of their sockets. Looking down at myself, I see that I never closed my robe.
“Daaaaamn, woman, you are fine.” He steps closer. “C’mere and give your man some sugar.”
If this was a cartoon, steam would be pouring out of my ears. “Are you serious? Where were you? Dinner is ruined, you know.” I plant fisted hands at my hips, waiting for an answer.
“C’mon baby, don’t be mad at me,” he slurs and I can smell the alcohol on him. “I’m sorry I was late. Lemme make it up to you.”
He moves in to kiss me but I pull back.
“What the hell, Johnny, you’re drunk?” I point an accusing finger at him. “Tonight was important to me.”
“I’m sorry.” His face is full of contrition but it’s a drunken sentiment and doesn’t count as much. “What can I do? What’ll make you happy? Tell me.”
“Why didn’t you call? Damnit, I was worried!” He tries to sidle closer but I keep him at arm’s length. I hate being angry with him. I want everything to be normal. I wish this night could just get back on track.
He heaves a big sigh and lowers his head. “I’m a bad man, Jae. No one wants me. Why do you want me?” He’s talking fast, slurring his words, and it’s everything I can do to understand what he’s saying. “You should run fast and run far away from me.”
I’m stunned and stare at him openmouthed. “W-what? I-I don’t understand. Johnny, I love you.”
He lifts his head to look at me. “Impossible,” he growls. “Who the fuck could love my sorry ass?”
My turn to sigh. He’s having a drunk pity party of one. This night was supposed to be so special. A night we’d both remember forever. I want to cry and even as I think it, tears sting my eyes. Not knowing what else to do, I open my arms to him and we come together in a hug that almost lands both of us on the floor.
“Don’t be mad, baby,” he says, repeating it as he takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. “Sales wanted to celebrate a new account and they invited me to happy hour. I couldn’t say no.”
“Couldn’t say no?” My voice is laced with bitter sarcasm as I let him lead me to bed.
“No.” He looks at me with a goofy grin and then winks. Even drunk, he’s so sexy, but I bite back a smile of my own. I’m still upset. “The guys are still at the bar.” He stops at the side of the queen-sized bed and pushes the robe from my shoulders. It falls to the floor in a puddle and his smile turns lustful, his sparkling eyes glued to my breasts. “I saw how late it was getting and tol’ ‘em I hadda go. Ubered here to be with my sweetie.”
He runs his eyes from my breasts, down my torso, stopping for an instant on my panties, and a shiver runs through me. I want him. He has an excuse I didn’t expect. One that’s plausible if I don’t think about how rude he was not to let me know.
“Why didn’t you call to tell me?” No, I can’t let it go as much as my body tells me I should, as much as it’s responding to Johnny’s raw sexual hunger. My panties are already damp, my nipples contracting, and my heartbeat doubling.
He ducks his head to my ear. “I’m a terrible man, Jaelin.” He licks my neck and goose bumps rise on my flesh. “You should run away from me,” he breathes into my ear. “Far, far away.” He steps closer until we’re just barely touching, my back arching until my lace-covered hardened peaks brush against his shirt. “Don’t say you want me, baby…”
“You’re such a bad boy. Mamma warned me about guys like you.”
He grabs my ass, crushing our bodies together. “Don’t… say… it.”
I wrap my arms around his waist as his lips crash down onto mine. We lock into a breathless kiss, his tongue roughly pushing into my mouth and his hard cock pressing into my stomach. We cling to each other like drowning lovers in need of each other to survive. His words echo in my head. They were the wrong words yet they thrill me, excite me, make me crave him.
Why?
I don’t have time to consider because Johnny sweeps me up and tosses me onto the bed. I land splayed out, my breasts jiggling, a surprised laugh tumbling out of my chest.
“Ahhh, sei bellissima.” I turn to him, surprised by his use of Italian. He’s never done this before. “I’m going to devour you.”
I don’t speak Italian but I think he told me I’m beautiful. I smile and beckon to him, eager for his touch.
He flings off his clothes, stumbling a bit as he works his way out of his pants. But he’s no less sexy for his drunken misstep. I barely notice it, I’m too busy enjoying his strong broad shoulders and washboard abs. He’s so damned fine my mouth waters. Lowering my gaze to his cock, I admire how big and thick it is, and oh how he knows how to use it. I want to trace my tongue along the vein, bulging now with need.
I start to sit up as he flops down onto the bed and we tumble together, laughing. He stops me from making a beeline for his cock by grasping me at the waist wi
th his strong hands and pulling me on top of him.
When I’m settled facing him, he reaches up and takes a breast in each hand. I expel air and throw my head back, reveling in his expert touch.
“Baby, I’m hungry. Let me at you.” I try to squirm away, wanting the full length of him in my mouth, but he quickly grabs me again by the waist.
“No, I’m the one who missed dinner.” He lifts me until I’m positioned directly over his face, my feet on the mattress, my thighs splayed outward as far as they’ll go. “You are what I want now.”
His hands spread my lips wide and he blows on my pussy, causing my breathing to turn into hitching gasps. He darts his tongue within my folds, licking and sucking as he spreads me wide, teasing each sensitive layer as he goes deeper. He knows every inch of me, knows exactly what I like, what will arouse me the most, I brace my hands on the headboard as my muscles grow weak.
“Oh god, Johnny. Just like that… just like…” My words end in a moan when he devours me as promised, his mouth fully taking me in, his tongue swirling through my layers until he’s teasing my entrance, flicking it in and out. One of his hands glides across my ass and his finger teases that entrance too, until I’m begging, sobbing for release. His rumbled laughter as he sucks on my clit sends a million shock waves through me, a faulty electric current that is about to explode.
Friction, I need friction.
I raise my hips and lower myself onto his mouth in a steady rhythm, thankful for my own strong thighs from regular workouts. Each time I come down, he plunges his tongue deep into me. On the next rock downward, one of his fingers takes his tongue’s place. I ride his finger while he sucks my clit, the sound of my juices making the tension in my belly twist tighter. He pops the finger in that was toying with my ass and I shudder. He’s covering me three ways. Oh god, what a remarkable man.
I’m stuffed full and want more.
I quicken my downward thrusts, his fingers working me hard, until I don’t recognize myself. I’m no longer human, just a writhing, moaning, crying entity of savage pleasure. My muscles contract and loosen at the same time and I fall on him, one of his fingers still in my ass, moving slowly in and out, heightening the shockwaves that refuse to die. Moaning, I come again, my entire body hitching and spasming with the fury of my climax.