Dangerously In Love Read online

  “Special as in ‘I want to hit it later.’ Or special as in ‘She’s a nice girl.’ ”

  “The latter.”

  “There’s no such thing. I may be your older brother, but I’m not phased by women. They’re all whores in ‘nice girl’ clothing. Su is a prime example of that. That ho-bitch was nothing but a groupie with education.”

  “Will you knock it off already?” I said, annoyed. “I don’t need a lesson on women. I can handle mines. Su fucked up—I’m not fucked up over Su. And I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “I know the truth hurts, but if you go into a relationship thinking she’s a nice girl, you’re already setting yourself up to get hurt. I love you, bro, but I don’t have the energy to help you put the pieces back together if this girl breaks your heart.”

  “You’re moving way too fast. We’re only having dinner. No one is breaking anyone’s heart. If a heart gets broken, then it’ll be hers. Because it damn well isn’t going to be mine,” I boasted.

  By the time my brother left, I was drained. I showered quickly and then couldn’t decide on what to wear. It was a clear night, but the temperature was frigid. Finally, I decided to wear a pair of dark blue Diesel jeans, hard-bottom shoes, a pullover wool sweater and my three-quarter mink jacket to jazz it up a bit.

  I’d decided to take her to Ida Mae’s, a nice restaurant in lower Manhattan. From there I didn’t have a clue where we’d end up. Hopefully, my place.

  Jovie

  Why are you doing this?

  I don’t know, but any minute he’s on his way.

  So, tell him to leave!

  Correct, I’ll just say, “Sorry but I can’t make it tonight.”

  No, that won’t be any good. You have to completely end it. Tell him you never want to see him again!

  He’ll think I’m crazy.

  Are you?

  Of course, I’m not crazy. Crazy is as crazy does.

  I laughed hysterically as I paced around the living room. I’d just meticulously arranged the candles on the mantel and I wasn’t quite pleased with the job. I decided to rearrange them.

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff—

  Shut up!

  You startled me. I thought—

  A knock at the front door interrupted me. I ran to the door, hesitated for a moment and then opened it slowly. There stood London, looking absolutely breathtaking.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said with a smile.

  “Hi, please come in.”

  He entered and took a quick glance around my small apartment.

  “It’s so organized in here I’m almost afraid to have a seat. I don’t want to move anything out of place,” he said.

  “Don’t be silly. Please sit down. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  “Do you live alone?”

  “Why do you ask that?

  “Because I heard you talking to someone when I arrived.”

  “Oh, that . . . I was on the telephone. But I do live here with my twin sister, Jada, and her daughter, Joy.”

  “You have a twin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you identical or fraternal?”

  “We’re identical.”

  “When I was younger I always wanted a twin so I could play mind games on girls. You know, kid stuff. Did you and your sister ever play games with men?”

  “I beg your pardon? I don’t quite know what kind of games we could play.”

  “Oh come on . . . you mean to tell me you guys never played games with the guys you were dating? Maybe you’d sleep with a guy then have your sister sleep with him for fun.”

  I crinkled up my nose and thought that maybe I’d made a mistake in agreeing to go out with London. “Not only is that vulgar, but it’s childish,” I admonished.

  “Perhaps. But I wasn’t talking about yesterday. I was thinking more along the lines of when you two were a little younger.”

  “No!” I yelled, and he looked at me in the most peculiar fashion.

  “Hey, Jovie, I’m sorry if I offended you. I guess women really don’t think like men. I didn’t mean for this to start off on the wrong foot.”

  “Your comment was a little offensive.”

  “I understand. I was just being facetious. Will you let me make this up to you?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I’ll show you the best time you’ve had in a long time. I promise you that,” he said confidently.

  I relaxed, smiled, and said, “You better.”

  London

  Jovie seems a bit conservative and timid, yet there’s a fire simmering in her veins, waiting to be ignited by some inappropriate remark or gesture. I’m starting to wonder if her demure, fragile persona was just an act. Still, I was curious enough to continue to pursue her. Once we got to the restaurant, she seemed to have loosened up a bit.

  “Do you drink?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Neither do I,” I lied. “I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs. What about you . . . do you smoke?”

  “No, but my sister does.”

  “And I thought you said you two were identical,” I joked.

  “We are.” She laughed, and I realized she had the most beautiful smile and perfect teeth. “My sister is everything I’m not. She’s sophisticated, smart and a risk taker.”

  “Tell me about you,” I asked.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Your likes. Dislikes. How you were as a little girl. Things like that.”

  “I don’t have any history,” she explained.

  “What? That’s ridiculous. Everyone has a history.”

  “Well, maybe. I just don’t remember mine.”

  “I’ll let you get away with that for tonight, seeing how shy you are.”

  “Did you know that flutterby was the original name for the butterfly?”

  I smiled. This one was definitely cut from a different cloth. She was amusing.

  “I must admit that I have never come across that tidbit of information.”

  “How unfortunate for you.” She smiled.

  “No, how fortunate for me to have met you,” I teased. I could see her get uneasy and shift in her seat.

  “Will you excuse me? I need to go to the restroom to wash up.”

  “We’ve only been here thirty minutes, and you’ve washed up twice already. Are you seeing someone in the men’s room? Because if that’s it, tell that brother I don’t plan on giving up your company without a fight!”

  She smiled politely and walked to the restroom anyway. I watched as her hips seductively swayed from side to side. As if she could tell I was watching, she took the swish from her hips and walked straight. For most, her actions wouldn’t have turned them on. For me, it did just that. I wanted her even more.

  When she came back, she started in with a few questions.

  “So, now that you know all about me, tell me something about you, London. What do you do?”

  “I know nothing about you.” I smiled. “But I’ll answer your question anyway. I’m a bodyguard for Jessica, the pop star.”

  “Wow! That must be interesting.”

  “It pays the bills. But my real passion is writing. For years I’ve been writing screenplays and having my agent shop them around for buyers. I can almost feel that I’m getting close to closing a deal with a major production company.”

  “Awesome,” she said, encouraging me to continue.

  “Yeah, my goal is to make quality films starring African-American actors doing more than just being the villain or comedian.”

  “You must be so proud of yourself.”

  “Well yes and no. Yes, I’m proud that I haven’t quit. And no, because I haven’t made it yet.”

  “But you will.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I challenged.

  “Because you have determination.”

  I don’t know if it was the wa
y she encouraged me, her sexy mouth or her mesmerizing eyes, but suddenly I had this strong urge to paint her.

  “When we’re done here, I’d like you to come back to my place. I’d like to paint you.”

  “Paint me? As in a portrait?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m very good. And when I’m done, just to prove I’m a stand-up kind of guy, I’ll give you your painting.”

  “I’m too shy,” she said, resisting.

  “I’ll make you feel comfortable. I promise. And if you’re not comfortable, just say the word and we’ll stop.”

  Reluctantly, Jovie agreed and after dinner we headed back over to my place. I noticed that inside my car she was counting each traffic light. Nothing loud or piercingly obvious but I noticed nevertheless.

  When we entered my place, I took her coat and went around lighting candles and starting the fireplace. I then put on The Very Best of John Coltrane. I felt good about how the evening was progressing.

  I walked over to Jovie, who was practically hugging the sofa. I guessed she was nervous.

  “Here, relax,” I soothed, and began to massage her tense shoulders. She resisted for a moment, but soon my strong massage soothed her and she submitted to my touch. After about twenty minutes, I walked her over to the fireplace and we sat on the floor. I wanted so desperately to kiss her, but I was afraid that I’d push her away. I didn’t want this to be about sex. I wanted it to be about art. I really wanted to paint her curves. . . .

  “Are you relaxed?” I asked.

  “A little. Are we going to begin?”

  “Soon,” I said, and ran into my bedroom to get a canvas and my paints. When I came back into the living room, in my most nonassertive voice I said, “I’d like to do a nude painting of you. Nothing vulgar or intrusive.”

  “Pardon me?” She gasped and clutched her neck.

  “I’d like to paint you . . . naked. As I said earlier, you can keep the painting once I’m done,” I replied.

  “I don’t even know you, and you want me to take off all my clothing?”

  “This isn’t what you think. I’m an artist, Jovie. You’re an artist. It’s all about the craft,” I said and meant it.

  “London, I’m sorry but I can’t. This is not what I do.”

  “Jovie, you can trust me. I’ll turn around and you can tell me when you’re ready. Please do this one thing for me. I know you can do it because all your life you’ve always wanted to do something spontaneous. Like your sister, Jada,” I said persuasively.

  She hesitated for a moment, but I could feel her wrestling with the idea in her head.

  “Please turn around,” she whispered, and I did as I was told. Soon, I heard her clothing hit the floor. And it truly wasn’t a sexual thing at that instant. But I had no idea what it would become or what the night would have in store.

  Jovie

  As I stood there peeling off each piece of clothing inside the apartment of a guy I had just met, I couldn’t describe the overwhelming feeling of freedom I was experiencing. I felt like an exhibitionist. I felt anonymous. Was it easier to reveal yourself to a perfect stranger than someone you’ve grown accustomed to? All my life I’ve been sweet Jovie. A do-gooder with a heart of gold. Now I was teetering on a wild, daring edge. A side that I’ve only known vicariously through my sister’s escapades.

  Once I was completely naked, I covered my sacred parts as best as I could with my hands.

  “Are you done?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  He turned around slowly so as not to startle me. When his eyes rested on my naked body, I felt tingly inside.

  “Here, have a seat right in front of the fireplace. The lighting is perfect,” he said, and gently touched my arm to usher me into position. I trembled as his masculine hands guided my movements.

  Once he was behind his easel, I felt a little more relaxed because our positions identified what this was really about. I sat and waited impatiently, eager to take a peek at his creation. As his eyes moved from me to his canvas, I wondered if I’d be pleased with the outcome. Was he truly an artist honing his craft or was he a seducer using a clever trick to get a young woman into his bed?

  To keep my mind distracted from my nakedness, I began talking. “Did you know that some scientists believe it’s possible for identical twins to feel the exact same emotion at the same time?”

  “Uh-huh,” he responded, distracted.

  “When my sister was in labor I felt every labor pain,” I pursued.

  “That’s nice . . . ,” he replied, unaware of what I’d just said.

  Once he was done, after what seemed like hours, he turned the canvas around and I gasped.

  “That’s . . . not . . . me . . . ,” I stammered.

  “Of course that is.” He grinned. “This is how I see you.”

  “She’s gorgeous.”

  “And what are you?”

  I looked away and suddenly realized I was still naked.

  “I better put my clothes back on.”

  “What’s the rush?” he said, and before I could object he was next to me on the floor. He gently began to kiss me. His tongue was sensual as he explored the inside of my mouth. His large hands discovered my breasts and I moaned in pleasure. His kisses were making me too weak to resist his advances and the wine I drank at the restaurant had me feeling light-headed. I was lost in the moment.

  “Come with me,” he breathed.

  With each step I felt more trepidation. I counted my steps to London’s bedroom. There were thirty-eight steps from the living room to his bed.

  He stood in front of me and I stared directly into his broad chest. He took his hand and lifted my chin up, and kissed my eyes, my cheeks, and then my lips. He sucked my tongue as he murmured soft words. Before I knew it, he was undressed, his long, thick penis challenging me to get to know it better.

  He picked me up, placed me on his king-size bed and gently laid me down. To my delight, his bed was covered in crisp white linen. Tenderly, he placed each of my toes in his mouth and sucked until I felt a prickly feeling run down the back of my neck and down my spine.

  Why haven’t I stopped him yet?

  As his tongue playfully flickered up and down on my nipples they grew harder than cement. Gradually, he moved up, and his warm tongue explored my earlobes. As he nibbled, I sighed from pleasure. I wanted him.

  Why am I doing this?

  London began tasting my whole body with his tongue. Finally, he parted my legs and moved in between my thighs. He playfully sucked, nibbled and then took his two fingers to separate my nether lips. He then began to suck my clitoris, murmuring, “You taste so good. . . .”

  My legs involuntarily shuddered and I screamed out. He paused to reach over and grab an electric massager out of his nightstand. He turned on both the vibrator and heat functions.

  “Hold still,” he breathed as he began to massage my clitoris. The heat stimulated me and my legs involuntarily began to shake. Hot waves came cascading through my body and my pelvis began thrusting. I was making love to the massager and London was watching intently.

  “It feels good?”

  “Oh, yes,” I crooned. He turned the machine up another notch. It vibrated faster and hotter.

  “How does that feel?”

  “It feels so go-o-o-o-d,” I whispered.

  “I can’t hear you,” he said as he moved the massager in circular motions. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Please, don’t stop . . . ,” I pleaded.

  Sweat poured off of my body as it became an inferno. Strong waves overcame me and I screamed while I climaxed. Hot juices came seeping from inside me and onto his sheets.

  I could tell this excited London. He moved up my body and steadied himself to enter me. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes tight in anticipation of what I was about to receive. As London applied pressure, it took a moment before he was able to penetrate my walls. He pushed hard and sank deep into my cave.

&nbs
p; “Ah-h-h-h-h,” I moaned as a sharp pain shot through my body. Tiny teardrops escaped my eyes as he applied steady pressure. He moved up and down skillfully as I lay there in shock.

  “Move,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Move. Make love to me back. Move your hips,” he suggested.

  I followed his lead and thrust my hips back and forth to complement his rhythm. We moved in sync and I wrapped my legs around his waist tightly. Then London grabbed both my legs and positioned my heels to my butt and placed my arms underneath his armpits so I was in the frog’s position. This was unbearably painful but I refused to stop. This position allowed London to go deeper inside me. He dug his hands in my loose curls and pulled tightly as he began to thrust harder. Tiny tears began to escape my eyes and drip onto his hands.

  “Let’s switch positions,” I said breathlessly.

  He pulled out of me and turned me over. I winced from the pain in my legs. I was lying flat on my stomach. Waiting.

  “Jovie, what are you doing?” he asked. “Why are you lying there like that? Get in position. Get on all fours.”

  Quickly, I did as I was told and jumped in that position. I’m glad he couldn’t see my embarrassment. He gently entered me from the back as he grabbed hold of my hips for support. He pumped in and out rapidly and I held on to the headboard for support. His large balls slapped my ass as if to chastise me.

  “I’m . . . going . . . to . . . cum,” he blurted out as he pumped in and out rapidly. Hot juices burst into my vagina and I felt a tingly sensation as we both climaxed. We both collapsed on his bed, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

  So, this is it?

  I immediately felt empty. We lay there in silence and the moment felt awkward. Embarrassed, I tried to jump up to shower away my indiscretions, but London pulled me back down to the bed.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To clean up,” I whispered.

  “I’d prefer you stay here with me for a moment,” he said, and pulled me in really close. As I lay in his arms, large tears escaped my eyes and dropped on his chest. Before long, he realized I was crying.

  “Jovie, what’s wrong, baby-girl? Why are you crying?”