Israel

by Celeste Granger

  “Is-ra-el, bae, please,” she panted breathlessly.

  The fuck grew frantic as Israel felt Cairo’s walls squeezing his thickness, milking his hardness for hot sinewy gism.

  They breathed together, raspy, and low, their eyes locked in their own time continuum as she coated his thickness with sweet hotness, and he spilled recklessly into her. Israel and Cairo’s gaze remained unwavering as they remained intertwined as the beats of their hearts pulsed as one.

  When she was able to, Cairo smiled sheepishly. “I thought we were supposed to be talking?”

  The smirk on Israel’s lips was undeniable. “We did.”

  The smile lingered but then became more somber as the curve to her lips flattened. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  Israel adjusted his hands, wrapping them around Cairo’s taut waist. His gaze leveled, and his tone took on a more serious inflection.

  “I forgive you, Cairo,” Israel began. “With one caveat?”

  Initially, she felt relieved, but then there was hesitation waiting to hear what else Israel had to say.

  “What’s that,” she uttered, barely above a whisper. She didn’t want to be nervous about his reply, but deep down inside, she was.

  “Don’t push me away again. Talk to me. When we talk, we can work through anything. Okay?”

  She nodded even before she spoke, and the floodgate of relief opened wide for Cairo.

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the next few days, Cairo and Israel were in a self-induced bliss. They didn’t venture far from Cairo’s home. There was no reason to. Everything they wanted was right there, with the exception of an occasional food delivery order. They had pajama parties, watching old black and white films and new romantic comedies. They also watched documentaries and shows on new discoveries. The duo had intellectual discussions that turned them both on. They made love, too, each time more intense, more passionate, and more connected than the time before, if there was such a thing. Their time together was more than either of them could have hoped for and everything they needed.

  Israel was in the kitchen, whipping up breakfast when Cairo’s phone rang.

  “Hey mom,” Cairo answered as she kept her eyes on Israel as he scrambled eggs like he knew what he was doing. The fact that he had on gray sweatpants and a black tank top made the visual even more spectacular.

  “Hey there, daughter of mine,” Catherine chimed. “I haven’t talked to you in a few days. How are you?”

  Before Cairo had a chance to answer, Israel strolled over to her, after feeling her eyes rove over his frame. He had a sexy smile teasing the corners of his lips, and his stride suggested he was up to no good. Cairo was grinning even before he reached her. Israel moved behind Cairo, who was leaning against the kitchen island. His presence always did something magical to her, heightening her awareness, piquing her senses, titillating her soul. This time was no different. Cairo tried to remain focused on what her mother was saying. Still, Israel made that exceptionally difficult as he leaned his muscle-toned frame against her, pushed her curly tendrils from her neck, and breathed warmly against her exposed flesh.

  Cairo felt a moan teetering on her tongue, threatening to pass through her lips. Quickly, she placed her hand over the phone to stifle scintillating adulation.

  “Stop,” she sexily hissed at Israel, pushing her shoulder up to her neck to divert his wandering lips.

  “Mmm,” he hummed against the other side of her neck, taking the palms of his hands, and roaming them lazily over her shoulders, down her arms, and around her waist.

  “Cairo? Did you hear what I said?” Catherine asked. Noises coming from the other end of the line were muffled, making it hard for her to hear.

  “Sorry, mom,” Cairo hastily excused. “What’d you say again?”

  “Don’t forget you're supposed to be at the house tonight at seven for dinner,” Catherine repeated.

  Cairo’s eyes widened. She’d completely forgotten about dinner with the family, and it was all Israel’s fault.

  “Mom, hold on a second, okay?”

  “Sure,” Catherine agreed, her brow slightly furrowed. Cairo sounded distracted, but Catherine waited patiently.

  “It’s my mom. I’m supposed to go to dinner with my family tonight. Should I cancel?”

  “Never,” Israel crooned, leaving light kisses against her neck. “Family first, babe.”

  “Would you be willing to go with me,” she sang, giving Israel the pouty puppy dog eyes.

  “Whatever you want,” Israel replied, placing another heated kiss to her neck. As his lips separated from her flesh, Israel stepped back over to the stove to finish breakfast.

  “Mom, is it okay if I bring a friend to dinner tonight?” Cairo asked.

  “Of course, dear,” Catherine chimed. “Your friends are always welcome here.”

  “Then, we’ll see you at seven,” Cairo smiled.

  “See you then.”

  Hanging up the cell phone and placing it on the island, Cairo sashayed over to Israel, stepping behind him, and wrapping her arms around his toned waist.

  “Thanks for that,” Cairo beamed as she laid her head against the center of Israel’s back and hugged him tightly.

  “No thanks necessary, beautiful,” Israel crooned as he finished up the pancakes he was fixing. “Besides, I’m good with moms,” he smiled.

  “I bet you are,” Cairo grinned.

  After ringing the doorbell at her parent’s home, Cairo turned on her heels to face Israel, reaching up and adjusting the Windsor knot of his necktie.

  “You’re looking awfully handsome, Mr. Ali,” Cairo purred with a smile to her pouty lips.

  “And you are strikingly gorgeous, as usual, Dr. Davis,” Israel chortled. “Got to make a good first impression, right?” Israel smiled.

  When the door opened, Cairo’s dad greeted them both.

  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Davis,” Israel addressed, shaking his hand.

  “And you as well, young man.”

  “Hi, Dad,” Cairo smiled.

  “Hey there, baby girl,” Neil offered with a loving smile as he opened his arms to his only daughter. “So glad the both of you could make it,” he continued, draping one arm around his daughter as they prepared to enter the home.

  “Your mom has been cooking up a storm,” Neil laughed. “I hope you two brought your appetites.”

  The three crossed the threshold into the Davis home. Immediately, Israel felt welcomed by the familial warmth that inhabited the space. There were a host of family portraits that adorned the walls, and delicious smells emanating from the kitchen.

  “Yusef,” Cairo chimed as they entered the living room.

  “Good to see you, sis,” Yusef, Cairo’s older brother replied. He gave his sister a warm one arm hug.

  “This is Israel,” Cairo announced.

  “Nice to meet you,” Yusef replied, extending a hand to Israel, which he readily shook.

  “Do I hear my daughter,” Catherine called from the kitchen. As she entered the room, Catherine wrung her hands on the printed apron she wore.

  “Hey mom,” Cairo greeted, padding across the room to meet her mom halfway.

  “Hey there, daughter,” Catherine smiled, hugging Cairo, as her brow pitched when seeing her daughter’s friend.

  As Cairo kept her arm around her mother’s waist and stepped to the side, she introduced Israel.

  “It is very nice to meet you, Mrs. Davis,” he said, stepping forward and extending a hand.

  “Nice to meet you as well, Israel.”

  Cairo watched her mother as she greeted Israel. Catherine’s smile was wide, and there was a lilt to her voice. And when Catherine looked in Cairo’s direction while still holding onto Israel’s hand, Cairo could only shake her head. Her mother had already added one plus one and got a grandbaby out of the deal. That thought made Cairo chuckle inside, yet it was also a painful reminder. Her mother had the same fantasies Cairo did.
And although Israel proved that he cared past her feelings of incompleteness, there was still a hollow feeling inside her. Cairo had to push through whenever those feelings would surface. Sometimes the surfacing was intermittent, while other times, those feelings were all-consuming. Cairo shook her head at her mother and smiled. Today, she would not allow those feelings to keep her from enjoying those most important to her.

  “Mom, something smells good,” Cairo said, slightly shifting the focus from Israel to dinner.

  “Would you like to help me in the kitchen?” Catherine asked, wearing that same wide smile.

  “Of course,” Cairo replied.

  “Excuse us, gentleman,” Catherine beamed. “I’m sure you all have lots to talk about.” Catherine spun on her heels and laced her arm through Cairo’s walking in step with her daughter to the kitchen. Cairo knew the setup well. No sooner than they were alone, Catherine fired the first question.

  “Friend, huh?”

  “Yes, mom, Israel is a friend,” Cairo answered as she put on an apron.

  “A good friend like a boyfriend kind of good friend?”

  “A good friend, mom,” Cairo flushed. Her mom was so excited.

  “I’m just asking because you haven’t brought a man home for dinner in, I can’t remember when,” Catherine replied. “He seems nice.”

  “He is.” This time it was Cairo flaunting a smile she couldn’t hide.

  “Well, if he can put a smile on your face like that, then he is alright with me,” Catherine affirmed, leaning over and kissing Cairo on the cheek. And Catherine meant every word of it. She knew her daughter to be not only intelligent but also very protective of her heart. If she’d opened up to Israel, she didn’t do so lightly. Catherine knew that to be true. Although Catherine knew it unwise to get ahead of herself, ahead of Cairo and Israel’s ‘friendship,’ she couldn’t help it. She wanted so bad for her daughter, both her children, to be exceptionally happy and find the kind of love she had with Neil. What more could any loving mother ask for?

  “Have a seat,” Neil suggested to Israel, extending a hand towards the couch.

  “Thank you, sir,” Israel replied.

  “How long have you known my Cairo,” Neil asked. His tone was pleasant enough, but Israel didn’t miss the possessive that preceded his daughter’s name. Israel knew her father was sizing him up. That was okay with Israel. He expected nothing else. He would do the same in Mr. Davis’s position.

  “We met during the Australian dig,” Israel answered, making sure to square his body to Mr. Davis while keeping his posture open to Yusef.

  “So, you’re an archaeologist as well?”

  “No, sir,” Israel replied. “I dabble.”

  “What do you do for a living?” Neil asked, crossing his leg over one knee.

  “Well, sir, I am the Director of Acquisitions for my family’s company. As a part of that work, I participated in the Australian dig.”

  “Interesting,” Mr. Davis commented.

  “Dad, what do you really want to ask him,” Yusef interjected with a slight smile on his lips.

  Neil shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “What every father wants to know when his only daughter brings a young man to dinner,” Neil admitted. “What are your intentions,” he continued, posing his question directly to Israel.

  “Mr. Davis, I have nothing but the most honorable intentions for your daughter. She is an incredible woman, and I recognize that, and I would never do anything to hurt her intentionally or unintentionally. She and I are good friends. And if our relationship manifests into more than that, then please know that I will support her, shelter her, protect her, and be there for her.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Yusef replied, offering Israel some dap.

  “Sounds good to me, too,” Mr. Davis smiled. When Israel offered Cairo’s father some dap, he laughed out loud and fist-bumped with him. It was just the moment the two needed.

  “Dinner is served,” Catherine announced as she entered the adjoining dining room. “Menfolk, go wash your hands and then come on to the table so we can eat.”

  The men did as they were instructed and entered the dining room. Mr. Davis sat at the head of the table with his wife to his right. Israel held the seat for Cairo to sit down before he sat down next to her. Yusef sat next to his mother. Catherine looked around the table and was pleased.

  “Honey, would you say grace?”

  “Of course,” Neil answered.

  Just as with Israel’s family dinners, the family held hands, and the head of the house offered prayer.

  “Amen,” they collectively chorused at the end.

  “Everything looks good,” Israel said, taking the linen napkin and draping it across his lap.

  “It tastes good, too,” Cairo added.

  “You already taste-tested everything,” Yusef teased.

  “Absolutely,” Cairo laughed. “Some things never change.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The same kind of warmth and familial connection was experienced when Cairo returned to Atlanta with Israel the following week and met his family for Sunday dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Ali welcomed Cairo with open arms, and Israel’s brothers lovingly harassed him about finally bringing a ‘friend’ home for dinner, alluding to his unattached approach to the other women who may have posed on his arm on a red carpet or two.

  “She’s different,” was his only response, which was good enough for the Ali brothers. They understood.

  When Aziza saw Israel and Cairo together, her heart warmed. She saw new life in her son’s eyes, very different than his demeanor the last time they spoke. Aziza could see how attentive Israel was to Cairo and how reciprocal their relationship was. She was a good balance to her son, and Aziza made a point of privately sharing that with Israel.

  “She’s the one,” Aziza said when she hugged Israel before the night was over.

  “How do you know,” he asked.

  “A mother knows, beloved,” was Aziza’s reply. Israel understood.

  Aya and Charity were very excited to have another sister-friend at the table and quickly swooped Cairo up into brunch with the Moore girls the following day.

  Brunch was at L’Arbre, Charity’s sister Kennedy’s restaurant, and all the Moore sisters were there. Aya had been to brunch on another occasion, so she knew what to expect. Although Charity shared with Cairo that she came from a large family, it was nothing like experiencing the Moore girls all at once. Along with the nine Moore sisters, there were two additions to the party: Cecil, Kennedy’s son, and Elise Gabrielle, Emery’s three-month-old daughter. To say there was plenty of food, fun, and laughter was an understatement. Kennedy pulled out all the stops with her soulful creole delicacies – oysters Rockefeller, bisque, shrimp etouffee, prawns and grits- just regular shrimp couldn’t hold up to the creamy, cheesy grits Kennedy’s team served – creole chicken fricassee, jambalaya, pompano en papillote, red beans and dirty rice, and for dessert, beignets and bananas foster. In addition to the classic mimosa, the ladies were also served Ramos Gin Fizz and café brulot, a classic creole coffee made with orange liqueur, sugar, cloves, lemon peels, and cinnamon sticks and flamed when served. The ladies spent their time catching up and getting to know each other.

  “Cairo, I understand you are an archaeologist? That has to be fascinating work,” Daphne suggested.

  “It is,” Cairo answered, “especially when I can introduce the discipline to young girls.”

  “Hmm,” Daphne hummed, steepling a polished nail under her chin. “Is your work with girls national, international?”

  “National for now,” Cairo replied. “But I am always looking for opportunities to expand my mentoring and philanthropic work internationally.”

  “This might just be a match made in heaven,” Daphne smiled. “I am the Head Mistress for Moore Institute, an all-girls charter school program, with our first international school in Ghana. We need to talk.”

  “I would love that,” Cairo smiled.

 
“Speaking of a match made in heaven, you and Israel, huh,” Ivory grinned.

  Cairo felt intense heat rush to her cheeks as she tried to hide a glowing smile from her lips.

  “Honey, the Ali brothers? All fine,” Aubrey gushed.

  “Amen to that,” Felicity echoed, clicking her champagne flute with her sister Emery.

  “You know I know,” Charity agreed, smilingly. “Fine!”

  “Cairo, you and Israel?” Ivory asked.

  “We’re just good friends,” Cairo explained.

  “Mmhmm,” Charity hummed with a nod of agreement from Aya.

  “What?” Cairo simpered, unable to tame the smile that invaded her mahogany face and reached her anthracite eyes.

  “If you all are just good friends, it won’t be for long,” Charity answered.

  “Not the way that man looks at you, girl,” Aya agreed.

  “What’s the look, Aya,” Kennedy asked.

  She laughed. “You know the one where his eyelids are hooded, his nose slightly flared. Then, he slowly folds in his bottom lip and releases it even slower before narrowing his eyes for that last bit of penetrating gaze.”

  “Whew, chile!” Kennedy bubbled, fanning herself. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, girl.”

  This time, Aya was the one blushing. “I am!”

  All the women had a good laugh behind what Aya said, reliving some of their own experiences when thinking about their significant others.

  “No, seriously, Cairo,” Charity began. “Like I told Aya when we met, O’Shea and I started as friends, the best of friends. Everyone around me told me that he loved me, but I didn’t see it. I don’t think I would allow myself to see it because I thought if our relationship progressed past that, the end result would be me losing my best friend. When I look at how Israel looks at you, how he covers you, how at ease he is with you, that looks like love to me, girl. And O’Shea is still my best friend, you know?” Charity smiled. “Now, I feel like my sisters, who kept seeing what I didn’t see before.”

  “And this is for all of us,” Emery began, cradling Elise in her arms. “That word just is such a minimizer,” Emery added. “You are not just my sister, Aubrey. You are my sister. Evan is not just my husband; he is my husband. See the difference?” Emery continued. “Cairo, you and Israel are good friends, and that’s fine if that’s where you all are right now. And guess what, if that’s all you two decide you want to be, that’s fine as well. But take it from someone who has probably qualified more than her share of relationships, male or female, with the word just, it’s a limitation, it shortens the realm of possibility, it stifles what things can become. Understand?”