by Nyora René
3
Brendon was killing her. Sure, the workout had been strenuous, but it was nothing she wasn’t used to. Today, however, he was more touchy-feely and affectionate than usual. Their talk before they worked out had her body on fire because of all of the affection.
Crystal was used to the occasional hug, maybe a shoulder bump or two. Brendon caressing her pulse and burying his face in her neck was new. She hadn’t been able to resist kissing him, but she had the sense to kiss his cheek instead. That intimate moment had hardened her nipples and wet her panties. A wet thong while working out was uncomfortable as hell, especially while wearing spandex leggings.
Crystal parked her Escalade in her garage and walked into her house. Pride engulfed her, as it usually did, as she walked through her home on the way to her bedroom. She’d officially become a homeowner two years ago at the age of twenty-two. Her four-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bathroom, three-thousand-square-foot home was completely paid off. It was a large home for only her, but when you grew up in a small two-bedroom home with only one bathroom, you craved a bigger space.
Her mistress retreat, as she called her bedroom, was right out of her dreams. High tray ceilings and two walls of windows with cream blackout curtains overlaid with gauze curtains of the same shade. Heated, dark hardwood floors spanned the entire width of the bedroom. An antique-white king-size platform bed with tufted headboard and footboard was the central focal point of her room. Covered with a rose gold and cream comforter set with throw pillows in varying shades of pink, cream, and gold, her bed was her girlhood fantasy come to life.
Crystal went to her walk-in closet and flipped the light switch. A big, feminine chandelier illuminated the space. She quickly disrobed and tossed her soiled clothing into her laundry hamper tucked away in the corner. Walking into her bathroom, she quickly set her shower temperature and let the hot water soothe her muscles as the jets hit her body from different angles.
For long moments, Crystal enjoyed the water massage as she let her mind go blank. Her relaxation was interrupted moments later when her Bluetooth shower speaker chimed an incoming call from Brendon.
Groaning, she debated whether to send the call to voicemail, but ultimately decided against it. Turning off the water so that she could hear him, she answered.
“Didn’t we just see each other?” she teased.
“Ha ha, funny. We still on for dinner tonight? We didn’t finalize our dinner arrangements.” His smooth voice flowed over the speaker, causing her to shiver.
“Umm…yeah, we’re still on. I wasn’t thinking about today being Thursday,” she told him. Thursdays were reserved for lunch with her sisters and dinner with Brendon.
“You feel like going out or staying in? I vote for staying in.”
Crystal frowned. They usually went out for dinner. “You okay?”
His sigh came through loud and clear. “Yeah, I’m good, just not in the mood to deal with other people.”
“I understand that. How about you come over? I can cook some—”
“You mean you can burn something? Girl, you know you can’t cook!” He laughed.
Crystal joined him in laughing. He wasn’t lying, she really couldn’t cook. Last week, she bought a cookbook hoping to make something edible. The grilled chicken hadn’t come out too badly burnt, and she was able to pop some veggies into the microwave to complete the meal.
“Okay, you got jokes,” she said once the laughter died down. “I bought a cookbook last week, and I’ll have you know I made grilled chicken and it was edible.”
“Crys, there’s edible and then there’s lip-smacking good. The only thing edible that I want is…” He trailed off, not finishing his sentence.
Crystal hoped the only edible thing he wanted was her, which would make her whole day. “Yes? What edible thing do you want?” she husked.
Brendon cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is, I want some bomb-ass food.”
Crystal’s shoulders slumped and she hung her head. “So what do you want?”
“Surprise me, you know what I like. I’ll be there in about an hour. I just pulled into my garage and I need to shower.”
She shivered, thinking of him nude, under the shower, the water caressing his body the way her hands ached to do. Once, when she visited him in college, she’d accidentally walked in on him naked. She hadn’t realized he was back from football practice and had walked into his room to get her phone charger. He’d quickly ripped the comforter off the bed and covered himself, but not before she saw a taut, muscular ass, washboard abs, thick sinewy thighs, and a dick that was huge in its resting state.
“Crys?” he asked, bringing her back to the present.
She cleared her throat and rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. At this rate, she would need to take a cold shower once she got off the phone.
“I’m here, yeah…umm…I’ll get something…but you can’t complain about what I pick. I don’t want to hear about if it’s unhealthy. I had an egg white omelet with vegan cheese for breakfast, and a salad for lunch. I drank nothing but water all day, so I plan to indulge my taste buds tonight,” she warned him.
Brendon chuckled. “Duly noted. See you in an hour.”
Crystal bid him goodbye and turned the shower back on, this time with just cold water, muttering when the icy stream hit her body.
Afterward, she hurriedly dressed in a pair of terry cloth shorts and an oversized Chicago Vipers T-shirt. The T-shirt was one that she’d snagged from Brendon when he still played professional football.
Walking into her open and airy kitchen, she went to what she called her “food drawer” and rifled through the dozens of takeout menus until she found the one she was looking for. She was in the mood for some authentic southern food, and no one did southern food nearly as good as Vannah Louis, owner of Savannah’s.
Perusing the menu, she settled on her choices and called the restaurant.
“Savannah’s, where the staff puts on a show, the drinks flow, and the food’s like winning the lotto, this is Averie, how can I help you?”
Crystal bit back a smile. One of the charms of Savannah’s was the creative ways they greeted you whether in person or on the phone.
“Hi, Averie, I’d like to place a to-go order.”
“Sure thing! What’s your name and what can I get you?” Averie said.
Crystal ordered shrimp and grits for herself, shrimp and okra gumbo for Brendon, jumbo lump crab cakes for them to share, peach cobbler, and a slice of pecan pie. Averie gave her the total and told her the order would be ready in twenty minutes.
Crystal looked at the time on the microwave and debated whether to pick up the meal herself or have Brendon pick it up.
Kendrick Lamar’s “DNA,” Brendon’s signature ringtone, disrupted her thoughts. Smiling, she picked up the phone.
“I know you didn’t have enough time to shower.”
Brendon chuckled. “I’m getting ready to hop in now. Text me the restaurant and your order so I can pick it up on my way to your house.”
“I was going to go get it, no need for you to—”
“Crys, text me the info. I’ve never let you pay for our dinners and tonight won’t be any different. No arguments,” he said firmly.
She smiled. He could be bossy as hell at times, but she loved it. Where else could he be bossy? she wondered. She had joked with Ruby earlier about her boss bossing her around in the bedroom, but if she ever got the chance, she’d gladly let Brendon tell her to drop to her knees and—
“Crys, you still there?”
She picked up the menu from the counter and fanned herself, a slight sweat breaking out around her hairline. She’d gotten lost in her fantasy. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Good. Text me the info and I’ll pick up the food. Gotta go, see you in about forty minutes or so.” He hung up before she could reply.
“Bossy ass,” she murmured, shaking her head. But she texted him the details about their dinner with a smile on her face.
>
Brendon walked up the sandstone steps and onto Crystal’s wide front porch, balancing the bag of food in one hand and their drinks in another. Using his elbow, he pressed the Ring doorbell. While he waited for her to come to the door, he looked around her front porch, smiling when he saw that she’d added some flowers to the window flower boxes. The profusion of colors was a nice contrast to the black storm shutters against the light grey color of the house.
The bright red door opened, and quick reflexes prevented Brendon from dropping the food on the porch. Crystal’s large T-shirt hit her mid-thigh, and from his vantage point, it didn’t appear that she had on anything else. Her hair, which had been tied up during their workout, now flowed around her face and shoulders in a riot of voluminous brown and honey curls. Her makeup-free face glowed, and her lips were spread in a welcoming smile. His heart rate increased and his palms sweated.
“You are right on time, come in. Why didn’t you use your key?” She took the food from his limp hand and walked away from him.
He gulped and shook his head as he followed her, making sure to close and lock the front door. “We have the same discussion every time I come over. The key is only for emergencies.”
She scoffed and walked into the kitchen, placing the food down. “I use your key all the time, no reason why you can’t do the same.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t use your key. Remember when I had some umm…company over at the house and you walked in?” he said, placing their drinks on the table and helping her unload their meal.
Crystal stiffened beside him, and he glanced at her, frowning, when she glared at him.
“You mean that time when you had scheming-ass Tiffany straddling your lap in the living room?” She crossed her arms.
Brendon released an uneasy chuckle. “Tiffany, yes. Why are you mad at me?”
She rolled her eyes and walked away to retrieve plates for them to use.
“Whatever, B,” she said, moving around him to stand on the opposite side of the island.
Brendon dished their food onto their respective plates, the spices from the gumbo tantalizing his nostrils and causing his stomach to growl.
“I’ve upset you and that wasn’t my intention,” he said, reaching across the island to grab her hand.
Crystal shook her head at him, her eyes dropping and lips pursed. “Whatever.”
He released her and ran a hand down his face, leaning against the white and grey marble countertop. “The point I was trying to make, and which got lost, was that had you not used your key and knocked instead, you wouldn’t have gotten an eyeful of Tiffany’s naked behind.”
“Whatever, you could, you know, handle your business in your bedroom,” she retorted, grabbing her plate and stomping off towards the breakfast nook.
Brendon shook his head and forbade his eyes from dropping to her ass. “One, that’s my house. Two, you sound jealous,” he teased, hoping to get her out of her sour mood.
Wrong damn thing to say. Crystal jumped up from her seat and stormed towards him, her eyes on fire.
“You play too much, B, you know damn well—”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight, making sure she didn’t see his grin. “I’m sorry, bad joke.”
“Stop cutting me off, that’s rude as hell,” she snapped, but with little heat as her body softened in his embrace.
“You’re right, I apologize for cutting you off. Can we please enjoy our meal?” he said, pulling back from the embrace before his erection was able to fully form.
She searched his eyes before nodding and walking away. The tension between them faded and he followed her to the nook to eat, making sure he steered away from the topic of keys and Tiffany.
After they finished their meals, he told her to go pick out a movie while he loaded the dishwasher. Once he finished, he rooted around in her cabinets for some Tupperware and stored their leftovers. Then he grabbed the cleaning spray beneath her farmhouse sink and wiped off her countertops and the table, restoring the space to its previous immaculate state.
He walked up the dark hardwood stairs into the loft area. Crystal was bent over, looking at her collection of DVDs with the hem of her shorts raised up, and the bottom of her ass cheeks peeping out, teasing him with the view.
Discreetly, he adjusted himself in his pants, then walked over to the large navy sectional and sat down on the corner chaise. Kicking off his Nike running shoes, he stretched out on the couch, propping his back up against the pillows.
Crystal turned around, a DVD in her hands. “I thought we could watch Spice World. I’m in the mood for some Spice Girls.”
Brendon stilled for several moments, nothing moving, not even his chest or eyes. “I know you lying. Please tell me this is a joke,” he begged.
When they were in high school, she’d discovered the Spice Girls movie and had made him sit down and watch it. At first he’d given her a firm no, but after she begged and pleaded, he’d told her that if she got a hundred on her next algebra test, he’d watch it with her. She not only got a hundred, but she answered the bonus questions correctly, bringing her final score to a hundred ten.
Crystal clutched the DVD to her chest and fluttered her long lashes at him. “Come on, B, I promise not to sing all of the songs. Besides, this is payback for you teasing me about Tiffany and being jealous. You owe me.”
Brendon flopped back against the pillows, covering his eyes with his forearm and groaning loudly, removing his arm and glaring at her when she snickered. “Fine, we’ll watch the movie, but then we’re even.”
A beautiful smile eclipsed Crystal’s face, her full lips capturing his attention. He barely caught himself from licking his own in response to the sexy thoughts about what her mouth could possibly do.
“Aww! Thank you, B!” Spinning around on the tips of her toes, Crystal went to insert the disc into the DVD player.
Brendon shook his head, still unable to believe she insisted on keeping her DVD player and DVDs instead of either purchasing the Blu-ray discs or digital versions.
Crystal sat beside him, twisting her body to lie on her side, and laying her head on his shoulder. She opened the Google Home app on her phone and turned off the lights in the loft. She placed the phone on the couch in front of her, beside the remote, and wrapped an arm around his waist. He draped his right arm around her back, his hand resting comfortably on her hip, and resigned himself to watching an hour and a half of five women singing and roaming around London.
When the opening scene of Avengers: Endgame played on her seventy-inch flat screen tv and Crystal giggled, he retaliated by tickling her until tears rolled down her face and she was halfway on his lap trying to capture his hands.
He quickly stopped tickling her when her bottom landed on his dick. Grabbing her under her arms, he moved her so that she was on his thighs and off his manhood, which had gone from semi-hard to full mast the moment she sat on him.
Wide brown eyes looked at him, but he avoided direct eye contact, instead choosing to look over her shoulder at the screen.
“Let’s um, restart the, uh, movie,” he stammered.
When she got off his lap and moved back to her previous position, he sighed in relief. This time she rested her head on his chest, and he was positive she could hear the runaway beat of his heart.
He prayed she wouldn’t say anything and closed his eyes, relieved when she grabbed the remote and started the movie over.
4
Crystal sighed and burrowed into the heat source she was snuggled against. When her arm roamed upwards and landed on a firm surface instead of the down pillow she usually slept with, her eyes shot open.
Her head was snuggled against Brendon’s chest and her hands had somehow slid beneath his shirt and were caressing his washboard abs. Once she recognized what she was doing, she quickly snatched her hands away and lifted her eyes, hoping that Brendon was still asleep.
Brown orbs filled with laughter met her gaze. Brendon’s full lips we
re tilted up in a smirk. Groaning, Crystal lifted off of Brendon and glanced around. Sunlight from one of the windows filtered in through the blinds.
“Liked what you felt, huh?” Brendon whispered in her ear. Crystal jumped, then turned to face him.
She shrugged. “They were alright, I’ve seen and felt better,” she said, lying through her teeth.
Brendon’s body was a work of art. In high school, she’d loved watching him play in those tight football pants that delineated every single muscle in his legs. When he got to college, he’d put on more muscle and the way his ass looked in those same football tights was sinful. She hadn’t thought perfection could be improved on, but then he went pro. His arms filled out more, his chest seemed broader, he went from a six-pack to an eight-pack, and his thighs and hamstrings bulged, not obscenely so, but enough to make her drool. Too many nights her fantasy had consisted of him in those same football pants, but with no cup on, and slung low on his hips, his Adonis belt prominent.
“Yeah right,” he scoffed around a yawn. He stood up and stretched, his black T-shirt with the gym’s emblem emblazoned in gold across the front rose up and revealed those same abs she’d been molesting in her sleep.
Crystal moaned, but when Brendon’s eyes snapped towards her, she covered it with a yawn and a stretch.
“Come on, let me go shower and change, then I’ll take you out to breakfast,” he said, reaching out to pull her up.
Once she was on her feet, she stretched, working the kinks out of her back. Her sectional was comfortable for watching movies and taking a short nap, but not for sleeping all night.
“Sounds like a plan. I need to freshen up myself,” she murmured, not wanting him to catch a whiff of her morning dragon breath.
“I was wondering what that rank smell was,” he teased, tugging on a curl.
She swatted his hand away, heat creeping up her neck. “That was your musty underarms. That’s why I woke up, the smell pulled me from a deep sleep.”
“Umm hmm, that’s why you were feeling me up, because I was musty?” he taunted, his eyes laughing at her.