Twisting Fate

by Charisse Reid

  I walk over and run my hand along the railing of the beautiful wooden crib. The bedding is made of white linen with a sailboat theme that is carried out throughout the room. I continue to familiarize myself with the room. There are French doors on one wall that I open. It's a closet packed with hanging clothes, all with the tags still on them. The floor is lined with pairs upon pairs of shoes.

  I return the doors to their position and walk over to the other wall across from the crib. In one corner sits a large wooden armoire that matches the rest of the furniture, including the changing table against the wall next to it. When I open the doors, it is filled with folded clothes from one end to the other. The drawers below the doors hold socks, hats and blankets.

  What catches my attention most of all is the gliding white recliner with the matching ottoman. It rests in the center of the room atop the large area rug over the hardwood floor. I can't stop myself from sitting in it. It's as comfortable as it looks. My emotions are still running wild at the moment. I'm trying to take everything in, but it's hard to keep from breaking down. I never asked him to do this, but the fact that he did, makes my heart grow fonder; the same heart that I thought was completely dead.

  Placing my hand on my belly I look at him. He's staring at me, his face void of all emotion. I've probably freaked him out with my constant state of emotional breakdowns today. "What made you pick sailboats," I say as I begin rocking.

  "It reminded me of the summers on our family yacht. Some of my fondest memories are of those summers. I lived for those summers. Every memory I have that I hold on to, are the memories with you. You'll always be my best friend, Kinzleigh. What better life to have than the life spent with your best friend? I want Bryce to have that kind of example. Even though I didn't help conceive him, I want him to feel as if he's mine and always wanted. Every child deserves to have the best kind of family; the family like we had. Our relationship may not be conventional, but we have a history that most people wouldn't understand. I would do anything for you and for Bryce. I give you my word."

  Here comes the flood. That was the key that unlocked the gate I've been trying to hold back. In all of the bad there is always a little bit of good trying to shine through. My life may not have turned out the way I wanted it to, but when I look around it's still pretty damn amazing. I tend to forget that I'm one of the luckiest girls alive. I had the opportunity to find a love that most would kill for, even if only for a short time, and to spend a lifetime with my best friend.

  I've learned that life is about living in the moment and not wishing for the things that we didn’t have. I learned that with Breyson. I will always be grateful that I was blessed in knowing such an extraordinary person. I was on a path of selfishness and loneliness, but he changed that. He showed me that life is empty without love. I wish I could have shared the rest of my life with him, but whatever the reason, God had other plans.

  "I'm glad you came back for me," I say as he closes the space between us. The longer we're together, the more I realize that Preston is my only option to recovery. He's my only chance to break the addiction to Breyson. That addiction is no longer an option and unless I sever it, I'll spend the rest of my life going down a road of destruction, trying to find something in comparison.

  It takes a strong and patient person to stand by an addict. I call myself an addict, because when I originally went through withdrawals of his absence, the hallucinations started. I was so distraught that I thought maybe they were real, but in the continuance of his absence, I know that simply isn't the case.

  I've always been taught that God will never put on you more than you can handle and that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. Maybe the sequence of events was to teach me to find my own inner strength. I'll never really know. As much as I want to, it isn't my place to question God. I'm proud of myself. Slowly, but surely I'm picking up the pieces that were shattered when I lost Breyson.

  Preston places one arm under my bent knees and the other behind my back, picking me up like before. "I'll never give up on the possibility of us unless you send me away. I'll always be yours. I'm taking my woman to bed."

  Chapter 20

  Kinzleigh

  I wake up to kisses being showered all over me. Placing my arms above my head, I begin to stretch and sit up. His happy assault on my body continues. He grabs the sheets and the comforter in his hand and tosses them back, revealing me in all of my pregnant glory. I sleep in nothing but a camisole and panties as of the late. I was twenty-five weeks pregnant Tuesday. The baby bump and the California heat don't mix. I still have the rest of July, August, and most of September to go before my due date. I'm not sure I'll survive.

  Throwing his leg over mine, he straddles me, but doesn't put any weight on my body. Placing each hand on the headboard behind my head, he kisses the top of each swollen breast. The one thing I've found that is a positive to pregnancy: an awesome rack. When he raises his head just above my lips with a smirk present I cover my mouth as I speak. "What's gotten into you? Why are you in such a good mood?"

  He laughs and pries my hand away from my mouth. Kissing me lightly, I tighten my lips shut. I'm glad he is amused, but bad breath is self-explanatory. It has bad in the title for a reason. "I love you for your bad breath and all," he says in a teasing tone.

  "Shut up," I shout in laughter and slap his shoulder. "Preston, I never knew you had such weird fetishes. I must say I'm stunned. I thought you were a pretty boy." Preston and I were always able to joke like this and I've missed it. Now, it just comes with a little bit of added sugar.

  He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. Grabbing my top lip between his teeth, he skims the skin and releases it with a pop. "The only pretty thing about me is the way I will look with you on top of me as I make you come."

  My face instantly heats at the filth that erodes his perfect, professional mouth. "You like when I talk filthy to you, huh?" Yes, yes, yes I do. "Do you want me to make you come all over my tongue?"

  I can feel my panties becoming moist with each word. It's getting harder to sit still in this position. He switches my wrists from both hands into one and runs the tips of his fingertips down my body until they rest at the crotch of my panties. "Is that pussy hot for me?"

  Oh bloody hell. "Yes."

  He dips his finger beneath the seam of my underwear, pulling them to the side. He runs the tip of his finger barely inside, teasing me, before he runs it up through my folds. "Do you want it? Do you want me to make you come?"

  My breathing becomes deeper and more sporadic. "Yes," I whisper and I close my eyes at his touch. He slides one finger inside until all that is visible is his hand. His motion is slow and steady, tormenting me. It's enough to drive a woman mad.

  Releasing my hands, he backs down my legs, taking my panties with him. He doesn't even wait for me to lift myself. He does it for me. Putting his finger in his mouth, he sucks until it is clean. "I want you on my tongue."

  He clenches the hem of my camisole and pulls it upward and over my head to remove it. "I actually love your body like this." Taking my hand in his, he lays flat on his back and pulls me towards him. "Straddle my face."

  That statement is enough to make a girl blush. I'm ashamed at how turned on it makes me. I blame it on the fact that I'm carrying a boy and maybe it's the testosterone. I do as he says and grab ahold of the headboard in front of me. He spreads me apart and dips his tongue inside, swirling it around, before tracing me with his tongue until he stops on the magical spot. Automatically, I tighten my hold on the headboard. He places one hand on my hip for added support and the other he starts the same torturous assault on my body he was just doing, but with added stimulation back and forth with his tongue.

  The mixture of sensations is too much. I'm not going to last long at all. To top it off, he picks up speed with his tongue. He rotates between flicking and sucking. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming out like I want to, creating a smothered moan.

  The euphoria of how good
it feels is becoming the focal point in my mind. I can't think of anything else. Without thought I begin rocking back just enough that he hardens his tongue to give me the control. I begin to tighten as I can feel the pulsating begin to consume my body. I continue until the waves of pleasure take over and everything feels like it's in slow motion. I reach down and grab his hair, pulling it as I savor the feeling.

  When it's over it begins to get sensitive from my orgasm. For the first time, I want more; I need more. He's an unselfish man, constantly meeting my needs and never expecting anything in return. This time I want to be the one to make him come. I begin scooting down his body until I reach his knees, kissing the chiseled muscles along the way.

  His black boxer briefs are tightened by his arousal. I wonder if it's weird that I love seeing him hard, especially since I don't like the way I look right now. It makes me still feel sexy even though I don't feel petite anymore. My body has always been my absolute form of self-confidence and now it's been compromised.

  I hook my fingers underneath the gray band of his briefs, pulling the front outward to allow his erection to spring free. He lifts himself off the bed enough for me to work them over his butt. I continue to scoot down his long legs until I get his underwear completely off. He is now completely naked before me. His eyes look heavily erotic and he has sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches me undress him.

  I look him over. It's the first time I've really looked at him completely bare. He's thick. I'm not sure I'll be any good at this, but here goes. I grab the bottom of his shaft in my hand, holding it still, as I bend down and place my lips around it. I swirl my tongue over the slit of his head, tasting the bead of cum at the end. It's salty, but not as bad as I expected.

  He grabs my long hair in his hand, fisting it, and he moans. "You have no idea how long I've pictured you like this." For some reason, that information motivates me to keep going. It turns me on more, so I widen my mouth and allow myself to take him deeper. I start slowly to allow myself to breathe through my nose. I can feel it touch the back of my throat and I stop. The more I relax, the more it starts to feel natural and I suction around it as I allow my saliva to wet it as I back off. "Fuck, Kinzleigh."

  I get more comfortable with each praise that comes from his lips. He begins pulling on my hair the harder I suck, so I quicken my pace. He bucks his hips forward, slamming his head at the back of my throat. I gag not expecting it, but I am able to control myself by controlling my breathing through my nose. "I'm sorry, Kinzleigh. I didn't mean to. I've wanted this for so long and it's better than I ever imagined it would be. You can stop if you need to," he says in a quick burst.

  His arousal has the opposite effect of making me want to stop. I look up at him as I reach the head, flicking my tongue on the dip underneath the head. His eyes roll back in his head. "Damn, I want to come so bad. I'm almost there." I continue and he begins tugging hard on my hair. "Kinzleigh, stop, I'm about to blow."

  Instead of stopping I take him as deep as I can, sucking as hard as I can. I don't want to stop. I want to know how it feels for him to completely release. I want his approval. As I begin releasing him inch by inch, his dick starts pulsating in my mouth, excreting a warm salty substance in spurts. It's thick and wet on my tongue, filling my mouth. When it stops I release him from my mouth.

  I can't swallow. I won't. I think I'll gag. As if he knows exactly what I'm thinking, he hands me a cup of water from the bedside table. "Here, baby. Spit it in here." He has a smirk as big as California spread across his face. I take it and disperse his cum into the cup.

  "I'm glad you find this amusing," I say teasingly.

  "Hey, I'm on a high right now. It comes with the territory. That was amazing." He sits up, meeting me eye to eye. Touching his lips to mine, he slides his tongue inside. He brushes his tongue against mine, swirling them together. The taste is foreign to me. It seems gross to think about, but it's strangely erotic knowing my taste is on his tongue and his mine. He releases me with a moan. "At least I can mix myself with you one way. I can't wait to connect my body with yours. I've been thinking...."

  "About..."

  "A few things. First thing is that I know you want to wait until the baby is born to have sex. Since we are waiting why don't we do this right and wait until after we get married? I've waited this long I think I can wait longer. I want to start our lives together right. I want you to be the last girl I ever take to bed, Kinzleigh."

  For the people that don't know him, that's a big step for Preston. I've seen him with the most beautiful girls hanging on his arm, dying for a chance to be more than his entertainment for the evening. He liked sex and wasn't ashamed. I've heard him with my own ears tell girls that all they would ever get from him was a good time, some on more than one occasion and some not so much. I always thought he just liked being a playboy, but knowing what I know now, I know it's because of me. I'm the only girl he ever let close to him emotionally. I always just thought it was because the four of us were forced together on a constant basis and it came with the territory of our parents being close, but now, maybe I was wrong. Maybe, it was something more.

  Oh. My. Gosh. Why did I never see this before?

  "Preston, why did you always date blondes?"

  "I've never dated anyone other than you. That's kind of irrelevant from the topic at hand, don't you think? Will you please answer my question? I don't really want to talk about other girls."

  "I'll answer your question when you answer mine. You know what I mean. Why were all the girls I ever saw you with blonde?" I feel like such an idiot that I never noticed before. I think they even had light eyes...

  My eyes feel like saucers right now. Maybe I'm just dreaming this up, because no girl has that kind of effect on a guy, does she? No way...it can't be.

  His jaw steels and he looks at me so hard it makes me want to squirm away terrified. "Do you really want to know? Once you have that knowledge, you can never give it back. Don't ask questions you don't want the cold, hard truth to."

  Do I really want to know? My heart starts frantically beating. I feel like a schoolgirl with a new crush, wondering if he has a crush too. The kind of adrenaline rush where you want to prove to all the other girls that you're the one he wants; as if it gives you a boost of confidence to know that girl is you. Why do I feel this way? I've never in my entire life felt this way...

  "Yes. I think I need to know..."

  "It was the closest thing to you..." He pauses like he is gathering his thoughts. "You were the only girl I had any interest in. I didn't understand it then, so I didn't try. You were the only girl I had any real connection with; therefore, you were what I wanted physically as well, but you were three years younger than me and I knew after talking to someone older that if we got together young, chances were it wouldn't last. That was not an option for me, so I waited. I waited for you to experience high school. I waited for you to experience dating so you would see that we had something a lot of people don't: friendship. I didn't like it, but I had an ulterior motive that trumped my need to be jealous. It was an added bonus that you actually didn't take an interest in dating. Well, until... that guy."

  He takes a deep breath, but never breaks eye contact with me. "Even though I had all that in mind, I'm still a guy. I still have raging hormones and a natural need to have sex, just as every other guy on this planet does. I couldn't have you then, so I took other girls to bed. When I lost my virginity it was the first girl that took an interest in me sexually and she was nothing like you. I was fifteen and thought sex was just sex, and who it was with didn't matter." He brushes my long hair over my shoulder.

  I have no idea where this is going, but I know I want to hear the rest. "I couldn't get off..."

  Did he just say what I think he said? That was not at all what I was expecting. My mouth is apparently gaping, because he jumps in to continue. "At first. Not that we knew what we were doing at that age, but it's kind of a known thing that a guy's first time doesn't ta
ke more than five minutes. She knew I was a virgin and about thirty minutes in starting acting pissed off."

  "I don't understand how this is relevant to the original question," I say when he doesn't immediately continue.

  "I'm getting to it. The next part is a little embarrassing to admit. I made her turn around so I didn't have to see her face and could close my eyes without her noticing. After I closed my eyes I pictured you. That was all it took for me. From that point on I only bedded blondes. It made things easier."

  I'm not sure if this is supposed to creep me out, but it's one of the most flattering things I've ever heard. I don't even know how to respond. "One more thing. I feel like I need to say this. I know you've been through a lot, Kinzleigh. I know that guy meant a lot to you. It was an unexpected thing and killed me that I almost lost you to him. It devastated me more to see you hurt. I'll always have your best interests at heart. I could've dealt with being heartbroken to know you were happy, but as hard as it is to understand, every event that occurs leads us to where we are supposed to be."

  Life is cruel. You want to know why? It gives you people; hands them to you on a silver platter to love and grow attached to, forming a bond that can't easily be broken. As if trying to teach you some big life lesson, it revokes them like when you've done something wrong and your parents ground you from your most treasured item. What's even crueler is that then I'm handed someone that's been with me all along and everything he is saying makes complete sense, but I don't want it to. That means it was plotted out all along for Breyson to die, for me to be heartbroken, and for Preston to be the one I'm supposed to end up with.

  That makes no sense at all. Breyson is my soul mate. You only have one soul mate. How can that be true? If he was my soul mate then how is this where I'm supposed to be? Just then it dawns on me; the memory of an English project my junior year. We were given an assignment to read a book and dissect it; to break down its meaning in the form of a term paper. The point was to open ourselves up to new perspectives, but to practice formal writing.