Creative Love (Ladies of L.U. #1)

by J. Nichole

  While I wait on her to reply. I scroll through my phone and regret my no call policy. The policy that has left my phone bare of the women who have sexed me, the women who I neglect to call after our late night tryst. And then I run across Jenna’s name. I pause while I debate calling her. Convincing her to let me slide through wouldn’t be that difficult since she herself has requested a booty call.

  But just as my thumb hovers over the call button another text comes through. This time it’s a picture of her hand between her legs. I could wait to see how far she’ll go, but I’m not interested in just seeing her please herself. I want to hear her. I call and she answers after a couple of rings.

  “You couldn’t just watch the scene unfold,” she asks with a heavy voice.

  “Naw. I’d much rather have the audio that accompanies these visuals.” She laughs. “What were you about to send next?”

  She whimpers. “I may not have sent anything else.” She doesn’t say another word but I can hear her breath quickening. I listen closely as I step inside my bedroom. Toeing out of my jeans I shake my head. Phone sex wasn’t big back in the day, and now I’d rather the real thing, but since I can’t have it, this will have to do. For now.

  With my phone on speaker and my dick in my hand I lay across my bed and stroke each time I hear her moan. “Bryan you there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.” I bite my lip and continue stroking.

  “Late night phone sex and disappointing hand jobs.” She whispers. “That’s what a long distance relationship would be.” I look down at my dick in my hand and consider what she’s offering. “Is that really what you want for your little social experiment?”

  Even with my dick in my hand I manage to disconnect from the sexual act and say, “To assure myself a relationship should be more than sex.” I pause and release my dick taking the phone off speaker. “Maybe distance would be the remedy.”

  “Hmm,” she responds as if she’s taking it into consideration.

  “No need to make a decision now. But before you look for another dude to sex you up think about what we could have.”

  “Good night, Bryan,” she says before hanging up. With the phone in my hand I slide past the two pictures a few times. Then I crawl out of bed and into a cold shower to wash away the thoughts of fucking her into submission.

  With the light blinding me, I shift in my bed to maintain my sleep state and my leg swipes across my dick. It has a mind of its own and is definitely cursing me for this talk of long distance loving, with no physical contact. My dreams were filled with Nicole and I guess my body was responding. I lift the covers to check out the damage. I could shoot an eye out with the build up I have. Throwing the cover back down I rummage through the bed for my phone.

  Chris answers after a few rings. “Yo, Chris. I need to take...”

  Before I can finish my sentence he interrupts me. “Bruh. Do you know what fucking time it is?” I move the phone from my ear to look at the time. Six in the morning. “If this isn’t an emergency call me after eight.”

  “Damn, you’re already awake now; I’ll finish. I need to take a trip down to Tennessee. You up for it? This weekend probably.”

  “Whatever.” He yawns. “I’ll talk to you about it later.” He hangs up the phone before I can protest.

  I open my travel app and look for tickets from New York to Tennessee. With short notice, the tickets are outrageous. I find the cheapest tickets and put three of them on hold, just in case Laila wants to join us.

  Before I toss my phone back on my bed I take another look at the pictures Nicole sent last night. The indiscreet photo is not only sexy but worthy of a canvas. Before I’m too tempted to paint her perky, brown nipples, I delete the pictures, erased from my phone but not my memory. I persuade myself to close my eyes and pray to the dream gods that I’ll see her in la la land, perky nipples and all.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nicole

  Stepping over a discarded beer bottle, I roll my eyes. I spent hours getting ready for this date; my hair is laid and make-up is on point. My fitted black dress and five inch heels were chosen specifically for the purpose of convincing this dude the night needs to end in the bedroom. But here we are at an outdoor festival in the middle of downtown Atlanta. Of all the places he could have taken me, especially after seeing me dressed to impress, we are here. I shouldn’t have expected too much. He did roll up on me at the grocery store with a buggy full of beer, not even craft beer, but Super Bowl Sunday advertised beer.

  Sitting comfortably on the bench where he guided us to try our selection of food he says, “I should have given you a heads up on the plans for the night.” He skims his eyes across my calf down to my heels. “Could have spared your heels.”

  Smirking I respond, “Would have been nice.” I’m not beyond a pair of sneakers and a ponytail. I’m definitely not too good for outdoor festivals with sketchy food trucks, but for a first date? “Let’s make the best of it now that we are here.”

  He smiles and my insides are excited. His button nose and perfect teeth are adorably highlighted when he smiles. His dark brown eyes and skin that blends in with the night are intriguing. It was those looks that made me look beyond his buggy full of cheap beer and give him a chance. After all, I’ve spent too many nights getting to know myself. The only good that has come of it has been me perfecting my act; I can finish and be fast asleep in the matter of minutes.

  The thought of potentially having someone in my bed, beside me, or inside of me putting me to sleep makes me lose the attitude. Looking down at my heels I say, “They’re only heels.”

  Kevin’s hand glides down my calf and he responds, “But I must say, these heels.” He stops and cups my heel in the palm of his hand. “You are definitely rocking them.” He looks me in the eyes and licks his lips as if he watched LL Cool J’s Doin’ It on repeat. I raise my eyebrow to him. His hand roams back up my calf and rests on my thigh. Tracing the hem of my dress he says, “And this dress.” He looks around us. “Damn, girl.”

  Playing with the straw of my fruit smoothie concoction I ask, “Where to next?”

  “I had this speak easy spot I wanted to take you to, but…” he pauses and I’m hoping he wants to skip the bullshit as much as I do. I shift on the bench causing his hand to fall between my thighs. I smile coyly as I cross my leg over his hand. “Let’s get out of here.” He manages to say after stuttering over his words.

  On our way to the car his hand rests casually on the small of my back, dipping ever so gently to my ass every few steps. He helps me into the car and then kneels to help me out of my heels. “I'm sure your feet may need a rest.” I watch him in awe as he climbs into the car beside me. For the first time tonight, I see more in him than just a casual fuck.

  “That may have been one of the sweetest things a guy has ever done,” I whisper. I watch the buildings pass as we enter onto the highway in the direction of my apartment.

  “You know, I think you'll enjoy the speak easy joint.” He looks up the street before he makes a U-turn and enters the highway again back toward downtown.

  “Have you ever performed?” His face softens and the smile he wore earlier returns. “What? Really? Feel like entertaining me till we get to the spot,” I ask.

  He laughs. “That's a big request. Ad-hoc poetry session while I'm driving on the highway into the city, sitting beside one of the hottest girls around.” He looks my way briefly. “Not sure I can perform under all that pressure. But if you like the spot tonight, we can come back again and I may surprise you.”

  The idea sounds good, if there is another night after tonight. But I’m used to the broken promises, especially when it comes to dates. Most guys I’ve dated in the past will wine and dine you for as long as it takes to get your legs wrapped around their waist, and then morning texts turn into late night phone calls; dinner and a movie turns into chilling on my couch with take out. I look over at Kevin and mumble, “Surprise me, huh?”

  We turn into a parking lot
in front of a small building. From the exterior, if I had to guess, I would have bet it was a lounge by night and a cafe by day. The lights are dim inside but I can clearly make out the crowd, the crowd that is focused on the woman on stage.

  “We can find a seat over there,” Kevin whispers in my ear as he points to the corner opposite the entry. I navigate toward the direction he pointed to and find an empty table. As we sit the woman wraps up her poem and the crowd snaps their fingers in appreciation. “Too bad we missed the beginning. She usually has some real shit to say.” I laugh at his elegant description of her poetry.

  Next up is a man who takes a seat on a bar stool instead of standing like the lady before him. With the light shining in his face I strain my eyes to look at him. His resemblance to Bryan catches me off guard. When Kevin asks me a question, I have to focus before I understand what he’s saying. “Yes, this place is nice.”

  “So we can come back again,” he asks with a straight face. “Maybe a nice dinner before and you can rock another one of these dresses.” He winks.

  “We may be able to make that happen.” I turn back toward the stage in time to hear the Bryan look-alike wrap up his piece. While the crowd shows appreciation through snaps he leaves the stage and my eyes follow him to his table. Before he takes his seat, he shakes hands with a guy, I assume his homeboy giving him props, and he kisses the cheek of a lady who is sitting with her head held high, I assume his girlfriend or wife.

  On our way to my apartment I convince myself to go inside alone. My urge to sex Kevin up has disappeared. He’s easy on the eyes, he has a nice body, and he could probably work me over but something deep down isn’t feeling it. Something deep down is curious about what more would feel like, if maybe we could date, and I could be the girl at the table waiting for a kiss after he wraps his piece on stage. My thoughts drift to life beyond the hoe-sphere. Maybe Bryan has a point, maybe it is time for me to settle down, and stop letting these dudes get the best of me and leave me with nothing in return.

  “I’ll give you a call at the end of the week, and if you’re free this weekend maybe we can get together.” I nod my head and reach for the door before he says, “What type of man would I be if I let you climb out of the car and walk yourself to your door?” I smile and laugh to myself. He’d be like other men I’ve been out with in the past.

  Walking to the door he grabs my hand and I confirm my thoughts from earlier. It’s definitely time for a change. Farewell one night stands.

  With a kiss on the cheek Kevin turns to walk away and I close and lock the door behind him. It’s almost midnight, but I hope Laila is still awake.

  “Hello…” she answers with a groggy voice.

  “I woke you up,” I say with my voice low to not fully jerk her out of her somber state.

  “I mean it is, hell I don’t even know what time it is.” She clears her throat. “Are you okay though?”

  “I am okay.” I stop to think about if I’m really okay. “I’m actually great.”

  “Oh. What’s going on?” Her voice sounds perkier like she’s waking up.

  “I met a nice guy and we had a really nice date tonight.”

  Before I can finish telling her about the date she interrupts me and says, “Aw hell. Are you really calling to tell me you broke your curse and got some tonight?”

  I can hear her shuffling around. “No. The opposite.”

  “What?” She whispers into the phone. “Hold on I need to move to the living room before I wake Chris up.” I can hear him speaking in the background. “Before I keep him up. Okay, now tell me what happened tonight?”

  “I met this guy at the grocery store, and he was cute. Nice dude. He asked me to go out with him tonight.”

  “Wait slow down. You better not be about to tell me you met this dude and fell in love with him. Not before you’ve given Bryan a shot. You’re supposed to be my sister-in-law,” Laila says in a hurry. I’m not sure how she gathered all those pieces together considering her and Chris are not married, and Bryan and I are far from even dating, so in-law status is way off.

  “Anyway. As I was saying, we went to this outdoor festival. I started off a little pissed because I was dressed for a nice dinner and we ended up there. But I got over my attitude cause I wanted to get some.” Laila starts to cackle. “We were headed back to my house when he changed his mind and decided to take me to an open mic session.”

  “Nicole, you deserve a dude who doesn't just want to fuck.” Laila can easily say that because when she met Chris she was a virgin. She teased and kept him waiting for months before she gave it up. She’s never flirted with the hoe-sphere. Even when she had the opportunity to, the pressure was too much for her to handle.

  “And that’s what I realized tonight. I think I’m ready for more.” She releases an audible gasp. “Maybe not with this dude, but in general.”

  “Good. There is still hope for Bryan.” There is still hope for Bryan, if Bryan and I were in the same area. Although we may not be sexing it up I still would want to see him. I don’t want to volunteer for a long-distance situation. After getting an update on Laila, her job, and her and Chris’ shenanigans we hang up and I’m even more excited about my decision.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bryan

  Nudging Chris to wake him up I say, “Bro, we are landing.” He opens his eyes slightly to look at me. “You may want to wipe off the slobber that has accumulated on your chin.” His eyes bulge before he realizes I’m probably bull shitting and he elbows me in the side.

  “This late-night flight after a full day of work was a bad idea.” Chris says while adjusting in his seat. Chris agreed to come with me to Tennessee to collect my art supplies and wrap up loose ends that I left dangling in the wind. Laila had to stay behind for a work assignment that didn’t excite Chris too much, but I’m glad we’ll have time to run the streets one last time.

  With my luggage in tow I feel a slap on my back. “What the…”

  “You had something to say,” my dad looks at me with a grin. I’m both surprised to see him and surprised he’s grinning, considering I quit the company and moved without much notice. We haven’t had many conversations since my journey to New York.

  I drop my luggage beside me and wrap my arm around his neck. “Dad, you didn’t have to pick us up. We could have gotten a taxi to my place.”

  “And have to track you down for five minutes of your time.” I hear my mom say from behind my dad. I release my dad and wrap my mom in both of my arms. “Miss out on this moment. Yeah right. And where is your little brother?” She looks behind me.

  Chris was walking slowly off the plane. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is somewhere napping. Looking back toward the luggage carousel, I point him out sitting on a bench half slumped over. “He had a long day.”

  My mom laughs and says, “Yeah I hear his boss is a real slave driver,” as she walks toward my brother. My dad clears his throat from his spot beside me. With three sons and a stubborn husband, mom has played mediator for as long as I can remember. I’m sure her side remark was an attempt to instigate a conversation between my dad and me.

  Chris’ approach saves us from the inevitable conversation that will come before I leave Tennessee. “Dad, you know you shouldn’t have this old lady out late at night.” With one arm around Mom, he shakes Dad’s hand.

  “From the look on your face you look like the one who shouldn’t be out this late,” my mom says in response to Chris. “I can’t believe you didn’t drag Laila along with you.” Chris groans and leads us out of the airport.

  My parents don’t take us hostage for long; instead they drop us off at my condo with us promising to stop by in the morning. Throwing a blanket and pillow to Chris I say, “The couch should be comfortable.”

  “What? When we were kids we would at least sleep opposites in the bed.” Chris pushes the pillows off my couch. “This couch is stiff as fuck.” When he catches the smirk on my face he says, “Man, if Laila wasn’t at the house I
would have had you foot to head in my bed.”

  “We are too grown for that shit dude. You’ll be straight; you only have to deal with it for a couple of nights.” I sit in the chair beside the couch and say, “I mean you could sleep at the house tomorrow night.” Chris rolls his eyes. “Oh, so that cheerful mood you had seeing the folks at the airport was an act?”

  He hunches his shoulders. Reaching down to untie his shoes he says, “Of course I love them, but we both know you have to take everything in moderation.” Except our levels of moderation are totally different; I’m on a chat for a few minutes’ vibe and his is more like have lunch or dinner. “Throw me a towel.” Chris stands up and walks toward the bathroom. “I need to wash off the funk from the airplane.”

  Passing by my gallery wall in the hall I grab towels for Chris and yell through the door, “Open up, here you go.” Taking more time to look at my art I’m inspired, again, by some of the pieces. Over the years I’ve gathered a variety of pieces in my hall. Pieces that could easily be sold to an art enthusiast but that have significant meaning, and I keep them close by. But my favorite, a sunrise over Lookout Mountain, is the centerpiece. Because I don’t plan on getting rid of my condo anytime soon, I leave the pieces on the wall. From my studio, I start packing my art supplies, mostly my paint brushes and collection of paint. An unfinished canvas ordains my easel, a piece I started before I left. Sitting down in front of the easel, I dip my brush in brown paint and my hand begins stroking across the canvas.

  The curves flow naturally, but the hues of the blue took me a while to perfect. “Is that who I think it is?” Chris asks from behind me. His yawn causes me to turn around.

  “You should go to sleep. Why are you still awake?” I ask him.