by Wayne Jordan
He lowered his head, tasting one nipple as he kneaded the other. She tipped her head back and cried out with pleasure. He shifted his mouth to the other nipple, sucking it until she whimpered in his arms, her body quivering at the intense sensations capturing her body.
When he knew she could not bear it much longer, he slipped his hand under her skirt and pulled her panties down. He parted the delicate folds, which hid a honey inside.
Perspiration dampened her skin as he slipped a finger inside her. She squeezed her legs shut in reaction, but slowly opened them again, this time wider, giving him deeper access to her sweetness.
He touched the sensitive nub, slowly circling, feeling the tension building in her body. She moaned softly as he brushed his finger directly on her pleasure point.
“Darren, I’m so hot. Please,” she whispered and her legs clenched around his hand and her nails dug into his back. Her body bucked against him and he felt the sweet warmth of her orgasm.
When her breathing slowed, he eased her back against the wall, tearing the rest of her clothes off with desperation.
He kissed her, his mouth devouring hers as he searched his pockets for that little packet of protection.
When he found the condom, he tore open the packet and rolled it onto his throbbing hardness with the ease born of practice.
He turned back toward her, and moved closer, placing his penis at her entrance.
“I want you inside me,” she murmured.
She gripped his buttocks and pulled him toward her until he was deep inside her. The purest pleasure rushed through him, stealing his breath, his shaft harder than it had ever been before.
She tightened around him and he groaned as he tried to slow the orgasm that was riding him hard. He breathed heavily with the effort. He was on the edge, ready to explode.
“Damn, woman, you’re so tight, so hot. I can’t get enough of you!”
Slowly, he stroked her, his excitement increasing when she rocked against him, undulating her hips so sweetly against him that all he could do was groan.
He quickened his pace, thrusting fluidly into her wet heat. Fire raced over his skin as he stroked faster, harder, deeper. Again, he slowed, fighting the tension that grabbed his body, sliding in and out of her sheath, the friction of his penis against her sensitive walls drew sighs from both of them.
He lifted her, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and, still deep inside her, he moved to the bed where they fell forward onto the mattress.
She bent her knees and he recaptured his rhythm with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.
“Oh, baby, yes,” she whispered against his ear, her quick, short breaths were music to his soul. Then she cried out, locking her thighs around his waist, and moved upward to meet his relentless strokes.
Her release came, hard and fast, her body shaking and shuddering as she cried his name over and over. She clung to him, unable to control the wild pleasure ripping through her body. But he didn’t stop. He kept stroking, deep and deliberate, watching her, enjoying her as she shattered in his arms.
He clenched his teeth as his stomach tightened but he couldn’t stop the pleasure that ran hot through his body as his orgasm slammed into him. The sounds of his loud groan and her soft whimpers filled the room as he rode the wave of the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. It went on forever as Eboni’s sheath gripped him, milked him until he shouted her name, shuddering with his release.
Later, after his breathing slowed, he held her in his arms, and he heard her whisper, “I love you.”
* * *
The next morning, Darren watched as a tall Latino entered Ebony’s apartment. The man looked at him strangely, but when Eboni informed him that Darren was a close friend, he noticeably relaxed.
Without hesitation, he pulled out a manila envelope from the bag he carried and handed it to her.
“Thanks, Eric. You don’t know how much this means to me. Hopefully, we’ll find my other sisters.”
He shook her hand and accepted the small envelope she offered.
When he left, she gave the envelope to Darren, her hands trembling with excitement.
“Open it for me,” she said.
He led her to the dining-room table, where he used a letter opener to tear the envelope open.
Several pictures of her sister stared back at her.
“Darren, it’s her. Oh, my God. It’s her.” She rested a palm against one of the photos, her eyes closed. He watched as tears trickled down her cheeks, her eyes gleaming with happiness. “She’s so beautiful!”
“Do you want me to call the hospital to find out if she’s at work or at home? Her work and home address as well as her phone numbers are all here.”
“Would you do that for me? I know I said we could wait, but I have to go see her today. I want you to go with me. I promise I won’t take you away for too long.”
“Kenya is fine. She’ll be with her mother for most of the morning. Barbara leaves today. She’ll bring her back in time for us to drive to Reading this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I know you had plans for this evening.”
“I’m going to see my father’s grave. Kenya wants to take flowers. Would you like to go with us? It’s a long drive, but I’d like you to come.”
“I don’t work until tomorrow evening. Sure.”
“Okay, let me make the call to the hospital for you.”
He reached for the phone and dialed the number. When the call was forwarded to the correct department, he spoke for a few seconds and hung up.
“She’s not at work today,” he informed Eboni, watching her eagerness as she browsed through the document in her hands.
“Darren, I realize why it took me so long to find her. She was married—her husband died three years ago. Her last name is now Carrington. She’s an E.R. nurse. Can we go now?”
“Of course, I’m ready when you are.” He rose and watched her search for her purse, then headed to the door, and she followed.
Since it was Monday, the drive to Brooklyn took a little over an hour. Eboni spent the time talking about her sisters and recounting the memories that bonded them together.
When he pulled onto Linden Boulevard, she spoke aloud each house number, until the car came to a stop outside a simple, but elegant townhouse.
“I have an old school mate who lives in the area. Call me on my cell phone when you’re ready. I’m sure he and his wife won’t mind if I drop by. You and your sister need some time alone.”
“Thank you. I’ll call you.”
She breathed deeply, stepped out of the car and walked up the cobblestone pathway.
* * *
Eboni’s hand trembled as she raised it to press the doorbell. She waited, until she heard the sound of footsteps.
The door slowly opened. A beautiful, elegant woman stood before her, her expression pleasant, but searching.
“Aaliyah, it’s me, Eboni.”
“My Eboni?” Her sister’s voice trembled. “Is it really you?”
For a heart-pounding moment they stared at each other and then in the next moment they were hugging and crying and kissing.
Reluctantly, they released each other.
“Come inside.”
Eboni followed her inside, immediately admiring the décor as she entered the house. African art and furnishings cluttered the room, but somehow the chaos worked, creating a vibrant, rich ambience.
“You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you. I was lucky. My late husband purchased all this stuff before he died. He was an art professor.”
“I was sorry to hear about your husband...about everything.”
They’d reached the living room and Aaliyah came to a stop.
“Yes, I lo
st him after just six months of marriage. He’d just turned thirty when he died. An aneurism. I’m a nurse and I wasn’t there to help him. Found him lying on the ground already gone when I got home from work after a night shift.”
Eboni walked over to her sister, putting her arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Aaliyah.”
Her sister hugged her back. “It was hard at first, but I’m okay now. I still miss him, but the hurt is at least bearable now.”
For the next hour they talked as if the missing years had never happened.
Eboni glanced down at her watch.
“I am so sorry, Aaliyah. I have to go. I’m going to Pennsylvania with my friend this afternoon. I don’t want to assume that we’re all of a sudden going to be best friends, but I want my sister back and I’m available when you are.”
“I did try to find each of you a long time ago, but I just ran out of money. After my husband died and I received the insurance payment, I told myself that you all were happy and I didn’t want to intrude in your lives.”
“You wouldn’t have been intruding.”
“I know that now. Now I’ve found you, I know that I—we—have to now find Keisha and Cyndi. I’m pretty comfortable now, so I’m more than willing to help.”
“Good, we’ll talk this week. You have my number and I have yours. We’ll definitely keep in contact.”
* * *
Wispy strands of clouds weaved across an almost empty sky and Eboni stared out the car window. The weatherman had promised a hot, sunny day but the coolness of the car’s interior kept the temperature perfect for their drive.
Kenya had fallen asleep after the first hour, tired after singing all the songs she could from her vast repertoire of Disney songs and songs she’d learned at school.
Eboni looked straight ahead, the monotony of the endless highway was broken up by the occasional vibrant greenery of the towns and villages they passed.
On the car stereo, Darren listened to Darius Rucker sing of the anguish and pain of love. It was one of his favorite songs, which had taken on new meaning, a heart-wrenching depth when he had thought he’d lost Eboni.
He glanced at his watch. They should reach Reading in about thirty minutes.
He looked over at Eboni and smiled. She smiled back, placing a hand on his leg.
“Tomorrow, I’d like you to come with me to the hospital,” she said. “My mom wants to meet you. She met you a few years ago at the Harlem Hospital. She said it was the day your dad died. She’d just come from visiting my dad at the hospital. She had just left his office and was passing your dad’s room and heard you. She said you were crying.”
She could see him thinking, remembering. “That’s your mom? Then your dad was my dad’s doctor. Wynter? That’s why the name was familiar, I had also thought that the association could have been a business connection. The night my father died was the first time I met your dad. My dad didn’t let anyone know he was ill.”
“How could he keep his sickness from you?” she asked.
“My father was a proud and stubborn man. Maybe he thought he was invincible. We’ll never know.”
“Were you angry with him?”
“Yes, but his death woke me up to the reality of my life...that we can party and enjoy the material things in life, but family is the most important thing. Your mom spoke to me that night and it forever changed my life. I was destroying myself. I’d lost my wife, didn’t know my daughter and the only thing that was important was living it up and making money. After my dad died, all of that changed. That’s why I kept telling you that the man the media knows is nothing like the man I am now.”
“I know that. I know the man you are now.”
He smiled, reaching over to briefly take her hand in his. “Thank you,” he said, releasing her hand and returning his focus on the highway.
There was so much he wanted to tell her, but now was not the right time. He would have to wait until they returned to New York.
Soon they arrived in Reading. Darren drove along Perkiomen Avenue. On his right, he saw the houses on Muhlenberg Street where he’d grown up. At the top of the slight incline, he turned into the Aulenbach Cemetery and parked the car in the tiny parking lot.
They walked to the spot where his father was buried, Kenya walking in the middle holding both their hands. Darren carried the bouquet of flowers in his free hand, which Kenya had chosen at the florist.
When they reached the plot where his father was buried, he stood silent, contemplative.
“Daddy, if people go to heaven, why do they still have to sleep in coffins?”
“Eboni, you can answer that question.” He chuckled. “It’ll give you some practice.”
Eboni laughed.
In the years he’d been coming here he’d always approached the cemetery with sadness and a heavy heart. Today, he felt different. Happiness surged inside, making him feel light and carefree.
Kenya set the flowers on the grave. “Hi, Granddaddy. This is Kenya. I love you and miss you. I’m sure you’re up in heaven telling all your funny jokes, so I know you must be happy. Daddy wants to talk to you, too, but I have to go ’cause it’s an emergency.”
“What emergency?” Darren asked her.
Kenya beckoned to Eboni, who lowered her head to listen as Kenya whispered in her ears. Eboni tried without success to keep a straight face.
“Darren, we’re going to see if there is a washroom near the chapel over there. We’ll meet you back by the car.”
For a long moment, he watched the two people who meant more than the world to him walk toward the chapel before he turned to his father’s grave. He knelt and touched the headstone.
“Okay, Dad, I just wanted to tell you that I’m happy now. I found someone who loves me and someone I love. I made it right with my incredibly funny daughter who reminds me so much of you. She has your wit and stubbornness, but she also had your big, big heart. I love you, Dad.”
The tears he’d expected didn’t come. Instead, he felt a profound sense of peace.
He touched the headstone one last time and walked away.
* * *
Despite the long drive to Reading and back, when they arrived at Darren’s condo, Kenya seemed full of life and unwilling to sleep.
However, after a third bedtime story, she’d finally drifted off to sleep. Eboni closed the book and leaned in to kiss the little girl, who’d stolen her heart, on the cheek.
She placed the book on the dresser and left the room, heading to the master bedroom where she knew Darren would be waiting.
Her heart beat faster in anticipation. She knew that tonight they would make love. All day, she’d ached for him and already she was breathless with her need for him.
When she entered the room, the only light was a single candle, flickering on the dresser. The faint light caressed the naked torso of the man she loved who was standing by the window.
Naked or formally dressed, she’d always found him sexy, but tonight, a stark white towel around his waist, the New York skyline, the perfect backdrop, he was the most beautiful man she’d even seen.
As she walked slowly toward him, she noticed hundreds of rose petals scattered across the satin sheets on the bed. She stopped and looked up at Darren. His tenderness, his sweetness, never failed to amaze her. Beneath that hard, ruthless businessman was the most generous man.
He took her hand and pulled her to him. “What are you thinking? What’s making your beautiful gaze so soft and sexy?”
She didn’t look away. The time for running was over.
“You,” she whispered. “The way I feel about you.”
He slid his hands up her arms and she shivered with the sweetness of his touch. “Tell me how you feel, Eboni,” he said quietly.
Her stomach dipped as
if the floor had dropped out from under her feet. She licked her lips, her throat dry, her heart pounding. “I love you, Darren.”
He took her face in his hands. “It’s a good thing, baby, because I’ve loved you for so long that it’s become as natural to me as breathing.”
“Oh, Darren...” She smiled up at him, so full of love, so full of need and desire.
“Marry me, Eboni. Be my wife and my heart forever.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He laughed, hugging her close to him. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, then exhaling slowly, she smiled up at the man who made her life complete. “If you think you’re happy now, just wait until you get me into that bed...”
Darren arched a brow and then swung her up in his arms. He laid her on the bed, his gentle touch so at odds with the harsh desire burning in his gaze.
“I’ve been aching for you all day long. Make love to me, Darren.”
As Darren tugged on the towel at his waist, Eboni bit her lip, suppressing the moan threatening to escape her lips. The towel slipped to the carpet. The sight of Darren’s hard, buff body sent a rush of pleasure coursing through her body.
“I love you, Eboni. Forever, baby. Forever.”
“Forever,” she breathed and parted her legs, sighing with satisfaction as she welcomed him into the core of her soul.
Epilogue
The wind whistled gently through the trees, while the sweet scent of white poinsettias filled the air. She’d wanted a tropical-themed wedding and Darren had spared no expense.
She glanced ahead to where Kenya stood impatiently. The little girl could not contain her joy of being the flower girl. Her sister Aaliyah and Kenya stood at the gazebo on the large lawn in the back of her and Darren’s Scarsdale home, waiting for the music of the steel orchestra to begin.
She was glad Cheryl and Aaliyah had insisted that the wedding take place there and she was sure the guests would immediately know the reason why upon driving onto the property. The gardens, vibrant with color, created the perfect romantic setting.