Summary: Nyla's impending arrival sparks feelings for her parents.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)
Word Count: 3.5k
Dear Nyla,
There are two things to know about your daddy: he loves the ocean, and he’s a lot softer than he appears.
Patrice giggled to herself as she scanned the few words scripted in her journal. She’d attempted an opening line for her letter four times and tore the previous three out in frustration. This one, however, could stay.
Children’s laughter nearby stole her focus, diverting her eyeline from her shaded makeshift cabana to the collection of kids gathered around their coach for the hour. Terry commanded their rapt attention like a wartime general. She couldn’t hear his voice, but knew he was explaining something football-related by his mannerisms as he pointed across the sand toward nothing in particular. Boys and girls from varied backgrounds clung to his every word, their smiles stretched wide and eager bodies jittering with excitement. When he clapped his hands, they scattered and squealed, leaving a half smile tugging at his lips.
Superheroes have fatal flaws to weaken their defenses. Terry moved through life unfettered by harsh words, primitive weapons, and physical violence. However, round cherub faces and sweet giggles melted his tough exterior, trading his steely frown for belly laughs. Oh, yes, Terrence Richmond had a heart. Zorah and Zanah knew. Forty high school boys had experienced his warmth. Little girls and boys roaming the white sand beach on a hot Saturday afternoon understood his kindness the second their frisbee crossed his path. Soon, the little girl growing inside his wife’s womb would understand.
A thought passed through Patrice’s mind, forcing her eyes away from Terry’s playtime to write before hormones whisked the next line away.
You’ll hear people outside call him mean or see them move away when he enters a room. The world isn’t kind to people like your father. They don’t know him. Not like we do. Not like you will. He’s playful. He’s kind. He loves to blow raspberries on my cheeks until my face is slippery. Good luck getting away when it’s your turn!
Patrice closed her eyes to imagine Nyla’s laughter when she experienced one of Terry’s love attacks. In her reverie, Patrice moved her journal and pen aside and caressed her growing belly. She’d met her daughter in dreams. Brief interactions left little to remember, but she always heard that raspy chuckle echo in her mind just before the sunrise pulled her away from the greatest place on earth.
Whispers of Nyla traveled through the warm breeze, tickling Patrice’s nose and playing the beautiful sound in her ears like seashells relay messages from the ocean. She smiled with her eyes closed, and her chin tilted toward the sun.
“I hear you, girl,” she whispered to herself. “I hear you.”
“You tired, baby?”
Terry’s voice cut through the stillness to intensify Nyla’s laughter until the sound became lost in the busy atmosphere. Patrice opened her eyes in time to catch Terry flashing a grin en route to checking the beach umbrella responsible for blocking the sun’s cruel assault on her skin. Satisfied with its usefulness, he crouched beside her feet to rummage through their beach bag.
She lowered her glasses to behold his sweat-covered tan skin rippling across rigid muscles without obstruction. “No. Just looking at you and your little minion army.”
“Shit, they got me worn out,” he said, mirth in his tone.
The light in his eyes remained once his focus shifted to the small cache of items building near Patrice’s beach chair: sunscreen, cucumber water chilled to the perfect temperature, and three beach towels rolled tight.
For weeks, he’d hovered over the kitchen table, a laptop’s blue light searing an endless scroll of advice and tutorials into his mind. Articles told him that cucumber water reduced third-trimester swelling and aided hydration. According to a mom forum he’d infiltrated, extreme heat made sunscreen reapplication every two hours a non-negotiable. The towels? Well, proper elevation required leverage. The Corps taught him that.
Patrice sat back against her beach chair, fascinated and amused by his military precision. She wondered if Nyla might inherit his tidiness. God willing, she thought to herself. Two tornadoes in the same home might drive her husband crazy.
Before her thoughts could drift away from the present, Terry rose to his full height with renewed vigor.
He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Alright, Piggy. You drink this,” he said, bending to retrieve her favorite tumbler before holding the straw to her lips. “And let me take care of the rest.”
Terry maneuvered with expert precision and the gentle devotion of a loving husband. One towel at the small of her back. Two more beneath her ankles and knees to take pressure off sore hips, spreading wide to accommodate a precious growing life. Three kisses on her forehead as apologies for his chilly hands as he worked sunscreen across her belly.
“You getting big in there, girl.” Careful presses against Patrice’s abdomen probed for a hello. “They say you’re measuring long. Sorry Daddy gave you those long arms and legs. You’ll be out in a few weeks to get a good stretch.”
“Oh, don’t worry. She gets a great one around 2 am every morning. That’s how she tests how quickly I can get to the bathroom, ain’t that right?” Terry’s attention remained transfixed on Patrice’s stomach, a hopeful glint in grey-blue eyes. In the silent beats, Patrice heard playful laughter. She reached for Terry’s wrist. “She’s stubborn like somebody else I know. Press right here.”
Terry allowed Patrice to lead him to a spot just below her navel. His thumb traced her brown skin with gentle strokes. Reverent. Appreciative beyond any sentiment spoken words could convey.
“You won’t hurt her,” Patrice said, mistaking his pause for hesitation.
Excitement gripped him before his brain drifted off into space again. His first press, a tentative push too soft to make an impression, proved futile. Softie. Patrice giggled at her silent joke, then pressed flat on Terry’s thumb to add more pressure.
On cue, Nyla returned the favor. An angry press of her hand caused a ripple beneath the surface, stretching Patrice’s belly for a half second before settling again.
Terry shook his head and smoothed his fingers against the spot. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone for a little. I just like to check on my girls.” He looked to Patrice, finding her already studying his face. His fingers trailed up her belly and up her chest to cup her chin. “Be honest. How do you feel?”
“A little tired and sore, but I’m carrying 30 extra pounds and ten of ‘em are in my ass. That’s my fault for being grown.” Her joke couldn’t erase the concern etched into his frown. “Oh, baby. I’m okay! Sit down.”
Months of sleepless nights and stress seemed to manifest in Terry’s features all at once as he lowered his tired body onto the sliver of space left on Patrice’s beach chair. Like a magnet, his head found Patrice’s hand. He turned to kiss her palm.
“Thank you for taking care of us. I’m comfortable. I’m happy. Promise.” Honey-soaked and wrapped in his favorite frequency, her appreciation smoothed worry grooves in his forehead. He breathed deep, inhaling salt, sea, and sweet on her wrists. “How’s your letter going?”
A soft sigh relaxed his shoulders. “I’m wondering if I know how to spell. Shit sounds like Junior wrote it,” he said, inviting Patrice to laugh at his misfortune.
“It’ll come to you. Part of why I married you was because I knew you could read aloud.” Terry’s belly laugh rang out like music to his love’s ears, bringing joy back to his face. “You’ll get it. Relax for now. The babymoon is for you, too, you know. What do you want to do? Massages in the morning? A show tonight? Dinner?”
“You.”
Goosebumps broke out over Patrice’s skin under his sweeping gaze. He moved closer to test the waters of their restraint. His chaste grin morphed into a dashing smirk. A dangerous smirk. One meant for private consumption, not a beach teeming with families at every turn.
Terry buckled first from tingles spurred by nails tracing the tattoos on his forearm.
Patrice extended her arm to stop forward progress. “Easy, baby,” she said, a smile in her rebuke. “You have an audience.”
Over Terry’s shoulder, a crowd of children had gathered, waiting patiently for a chance to make their presence known. Some snickered. Others turned away out of habit. The tallest of the group, a red-haired girl with shoulders built for Olympic swimming, stepped up as the mouthpiece of the group. He shifted to give them his undivided attention.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her braces causing an adorable lisp. “Can you come back and throw? Just for a little? I think I got the catch down like you showed us.”
“Oooh, I’d love to, but you gotta ask the boss? She tells me what to do.”
A chorus of pleas and adorable faces peered around Terry’s body to make a worthy appeal to Patrice. She pretended to consider each request with a finger tapping her chin. “Hmmm. Y’all drive a hard bargain.”
“We’ll be quick! I got an Apple Watch for Christmas. I can set a timer!” one boy exclaimed from the back of the small militia.
“You know what? I think I’m sold.” She looked at Terry and feigned a stern tone. “One hour, Coach. That’s all.”
He leaned in to kiss her cheek and whisper into her ear. “I didn’t forget. I’ll see you soon.” A smooth wink served as the seal to his promise before Terry stood to his feet and reached for his sunglasses. “Y’all ready?”
Cheers and chants rivaled the seabird overhead as children marched toward the sea with their fearless leader towering above the forest and providing directions like a seasoned classroom educator. Patrice watched the scene unfold until another thought seized her mind and refused to let go. She reached for her journal and pen, ready to say more.
Now that I think about it, there’s a third thing to know about your daddy: you might have to share him sometimes. He’s everyone’s friend, everyone’s brother, mentor, coach, and teacher. But the title he values most is being your father. If you learn to share him early, you’ll enjoy the moments he comes back that much more. He always comes back. He has a good head on his shoulders, even when he’s yelling at the Panthers on Sunday afternoons.
The rest of your family? Good luck, baby. I’m sorry in advance for your Uncle Junior. He didn’t get dropped on his head. He just acts like that.
Under pink and orange hues painted by a picture perfect sunset, Terry sat on the patio and surrendered himself to the waves. Their melodic crash against the shore added a soundtrack to writing that had stalled into thinking. Salt burned his nose on the inhale, then reminded him he was alive on the exhale. In the distance, a family of four walked along the beach, laughing and squealing as the toddlers discovered the tide beneath their little toes. His thoughts drifted to Nyla in the comfortable quiet.
My Nyla,
You have your mother’s eyes. I know because I’ve seen them in my dreams.
Nanette Richmond, Matriarch of the Richmond lineage, deciphered dreams. When she wasn’t mending garments and sewing dresses for the community of Black working people in her Fourth Ward neighborhood, she held court in her parlor unraveling symbols for people looking to make sense of what they’d seen in their sleep. By the time Terry entered the world to spend summers with his cousins in her home, Nanette had lost most of her sight and put down her sewing needle for paying customers, but she hadn’t lost her ability to understand the spiritual. She passed her knowledge to Gator, keeping the gift alive.
He never used it. Not on anyone else, at least. Something about knowing other people’s business felt like too much of an intrusion and socializing was never his specialty. He kept the spiritual connection to himself and used it as a guide through life. It’s how he knew Patrice would be his wife despite their estrangement, how he knew Mike was in danger, and how he communicated with a soul that hadn’t moved earth side yet.
You both have that little twinkle that I love so much. Yours is in your left eye and tells me you’ll be a handful. I even saw it today when we had our moment at the beach. Obviously, you won’t remember, but I will. Forever.
His pen stilled while he thought back to Nyla’s sass in the womb. Only Patrice’s child could communicate such displeasure without speaking. Terry shook his head and returned to his writing.
Thank you for coming to see me, baby girl. The closer it gets to your arrival, the less sleep I get. Seeing you is the only thing that helps me rest.
If I’m honest, I’m a little nervous. This isn’t like when your aunties were born, and I got to meet them for the first time. I’m older now. I’ve lived enough life to know the world doesn’t deserve to see your beautiful eyes. It’s too cruel. But that’s not my choice to make. You have a purpose here.
Grief weighed on his broad shoulders. To have his dream fulfilled meant introducing his only child to dangers he couldn’t always prevent. Danger lurked around every corner. Strangers sporting evil eyes and tongues that wouldn’t wish her well. Imagining all the ills waiting for her outside the womb introduced a churn to his belly.
Then he thought about his wife.
Your mama is more optimistic than I am. She sees daisies and sunshine wherever she goes. That’s because she brings it with her. I hope you inherit that from her, too. She taught me how to relax and breathe. Maybe you can teach me how to smile. I’d like that.
The audible flip-flop of Patrice’s sandals echoing inside the beach house produced a smile on Terry’s face bright enough to rival the sun. He flipped his notepad to a blank page for privacy’s sake before turning to behold the waddling pregnant woman fresh off a three-hour nap.
“Call Dee and ask where that mattress topper came from. I want one at the house by tomorrow morning.”
Her husky voice and immediate demands earned a short laugh. “Baby, this is a time share, not their personal beach home.”
“Okay, well, call Dee right now and ask her to ask them where the mattress topper came from. I still want it at the house by the morning,” she said as she stepped out onto the patio barefoot.
“It’s that easy, huh?”
“Should be. I don’t ask for much.”
Separate but equal grins spread across their faces as they exchanged silly looks with an entire world between them. Golden hour’s amber hues radiating across her body seemed almost too regal to behold as she toddled toward him, wearing one of his t-shirts for comfort. The swell in her belly, full with a child made from their shared love, awakened the boy inside him. At 14, Terry was sure he’d met his wife. At 18, he’d made plans to change her name and bumble through life as young newlyweds. At 29, he woke up startled from a dream spelling out his future in no uncertain terms. At 33, he sat at the precipice of that dream and then some, sporting a grin he couldn’t contain while watching his wife ease into his lap.
She sighed once she completed her mission and felt Terry wrap his arms around her from behind. “Six more weeks, Lord. Four, if you love me.”
“Hey now. Don’t rush my baby. She’s safe, warm, and getting a couple of Oreos every night, judging by the crumbs in the bed.”
“I don’t eat them in bed. They just fall out of my nightgown when I sleep. I don’t know where things get stuck since I can’t really see much past my titties anymore.”
“Well, I can. You’re beautiful. Always have been.” Tender kisses found homes along Patrice’s neck as her head lolled to one side to make room for her husband’s chosen affection. “Thought I forgot, didn’t you?”
Patrice giggled. “I know you didn’t. You never forget to be fresh!” Terry’s chuckle vibrated against her back, but didn’t distract Terry from his tasks. His grip on her body tightened as he slid his tongue across the beating pulse at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Finish your letter?”
“Mm-mm,” he said, voice softening. “Getting there, though. You?”
“Same. The next time I suggest something cute, use those interrogation skills to make sure I’m still sane, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Conversation tapered into steady, synced breaths as the pair stared out at the sunset. Their hearts beat in tandem with another joining their quiet moment from the womb. From his vantage, Terry had a front-row seat to witness the wonders of God. He smiled. “I think she’ll have your eyes.”
Patrice scoffed. “Lord, I hope not. I can’t see shit. I’m just pretending right now.”
“Not like that. I mean your sparkle,” he said, laughing.
“You fall in love and make stuff up. It’s romantic. Insane, but romantic.”
“I’m serious.” A ginger touch helped turn Patrice’s face toward Terry’s. He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips and nuzzle their noses. “You see me. Past all the silence when I can’t make sense of my feelings, you can see shit in me I haven’t even seen since I was a kid. I’m gonna fix it. I promise. But thank you for seeing me, anyway.”
In the final flecks of sunlight, her sparkle rivaled the stars populating the sky. Playful. Thoughtful. Kind. Everything perfect in the world rested in the mahogany brown eyes looking back at him.
Her fingertips traced his bottom lip before she leaned in for another kiss. “Of course I see you. I love you, baby.”
Simple. No long speeches or convincing required. She saw the murky depths of his soul and loved without pretense. To birth a child already gifted with the same ability was a gift greater than gold.
“I love you more,” he joked, catching Patrice before she could offer a rebuttal. He kissed away the last of her protest. “Don’t argue about it. Tell me what you want to eat instead. Wings? A burger from that spot down the street? I remember you loved it the last time.”
“Can I have the bun?”
“You know the answer to that.” He’d conceded many battles over 34 weeks: exercise schedules, maternity leave, nursery colors, and the like. Defying medical orders is where he drew the line. Still, listening to Patrice mutter complaints amused him into a small compromise. “We’ll share some fries instead. That work for you two?”
Patrice shrugged. “I’ll go change my clothes, consult my co-lead, and then get back to you.”
“I’ll be right here.”
Patrice walked back into the house, her waddle looking more like a skip than normal. A half-smile clung to Terry’s lips as he watched her go, then retrieved his notepad and pen, flipping back to his letter. He inhaled the last remnants of her perfume, grounding himself.
When I’m not dreaming about you, your great-grandma visits. I think she’s trying to tell me something. I’m trying to listen. You deserve the best version of me because I want to teach you a few things, too. Beyond how to ride a bike or what fish to keep or throw back in the water, I want to teach you how to navigate your big feelings. I’m gonna learn for myself first, then get back to you.
Your mama, though? She’s got it—the total package. I’ve been alive a long time, and I still don’t know anyone with as much grace, kindness, and intelligence. Don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t have the best one around. If they try, you’ll know a little maneuver to take them down. Keep that part between us, alright?
He paused, his imagination roaming free. He’d put her in jiu-jitsu. Just for fun, unless she wanted to compete. Or maybe flag football. If her scans were any sign, they’d have a little receiver on their hands to follow in the family tradition. The smile still on his face grew, a lesson from Nyla.
A moment later, Patrice reappeared at the patio’s threshold. Her bright orange sundress flowed in the breeze as she tossed her sandals on the ground. “Co-lead says fries are acceptable, but also requires a little ice cream, so I wore my eating dress. She’s a tough negotiator.”
“Is that right?” Terry closed his notepad and tucked the pen inside. He rose to his feet, maneuvering around the coffee table to offer Patrice his hand. “I can accept those terms. Let’s get a little walk in.”
His fingers found their haven between hers, linking them on their journey into the night. In six weeks or four, if they were lucky, the third heartbeat between them would learn her father’s love of the ocean and how far her mother’s sight could see into her soul’s depths. Tonight, her eyes shone bright in the stars as raspy laughter mixed with the wind rustling their clothes.
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In the morning, they moved around each other like distant friends. Discomfort from the hours before whittled into meaningless interactions throughout the day as if their future wasn’t hanging in the balance.
By the evening, while the world buzzed with excitement for the upcoming year, Kelvin and Asia exchanged their first coherent sentences on Tini’s front porch as Asia rummaged through her clutch for the spare key.
“Curtis’s boys are…rough. Don’t let the middle one grab you. He means well, but his hands are heavy.”
Kelvin forced a chuckle. “I think I can handle myself.” He listened to Asia hum her response as she continued fiddling inside her bag. “Asia, I do love you more than—”
“Got it! This thing should be on a ring.” Asia’s overt warning to drop the subject and focus on matters more important than their unresolved tiff halted Kelvin in his tracks. She unlocked the door, then stopped, locking glances with her boyfriend. “Later. Please, let them have their moment.”
Point taken. Kelvin accepted her white flag with a nod and allowed Asia to usher them into Tini’s lively home. Though only four grown men roamed between the living room and the kitchen, the house sounded like a block party had reached peak capacity. Quick pleasantries and introductions brought Kelvin his first dose of brotherhood.
Asia was right. Charles, Curtis’s middle son and carbon copy, was heavy-handed. Each grip on his shoulder to brace for a laugh and shove to emphasize his point left Kelvin sore from the impact. The oldest, Curtis IV, appeared more reserved, watching Kelvin like a hawk without much more than probing questions relayed in ten-minute intervals to test his worthiness for “lil sis.” Christopher, the youngest and most lively, felt more like a peer than the others, but followed their unspoken pact to assume their role as siblings intent on protecting the vulnerable cub in the pack while Curtis sipped scotch nearby to calm his nerves.
From the primary bedroom, Asia eavesdropped next to the door, completely ignoring her mother to consider if now was the time to save her boyfriend and pull him into a tough conversation on the back patio.
“That old fool doesn’t think I’m clueless. Why spend money on Italian when we could light celebrate the new year dancing?”
Asia glanced over at her mother. “You like that place, though. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like being played. Curtis left the ring receipt out two weeks ago. I've just been letting him stress for nothing. It gives me something to laugh about with the girls.” Tini examined her winter white jumpsuit in the full-length mirror beside her closet and smiled. “Of course, he’d want to marry all this. And I make a cute baby. Just in case.”
“Gross, Ma. It’s okay to keep some things to yourself.” Asia answered.
Martina watched her only daughter crane her neck to eavesdrop and tried to contain her inner amusement as she took a seat at her vanity to apply an extra layer of red lipstick for good measure. “You two okay?”
“What?” Asia’s absentminded response created a grave mistake she didn’t need prompting to correct. “I’m sorry. What did you say? I was just…thinking.”
“Thinking too much to talk to him instead of waiting to see if he says your name?” Asia’s shoulders slipped from their hunched position near her ears as she pushed away from the wall and adjusted her dress. They waited for a response that didn’t exist until it became too awkward to make eye contact. In the silence, Tini regarded Asia from the reflection in her vanity mirror and gestured toward the bed. “Go on and sit down. If you don’t want to talk, at least give your feet a rest. We’re dancing tonight, and you’re not allowed to tell an engaged woman no.”
Asia huffed a short laugh through her nostrils as she trudged toward the edge of the bed closest to her mother. Word gumbo swirled inside her mind like wayward letters in a confusing alphabet soup, crying out for release while Tini pretended to ignore the elephant in the room. She fixed her mascara, adjusted the short finger coils adorning her head, and swapped her shining silver jewelry to silence. Still, she waited until Asia found her voice.
A deep sigh preceded her admission. “We, uh…we talked about getting married. Sort of.” Tini raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Asia continued. “Kel is ready. It’s not like I didn’t know that. I’ve heard him talk about us in the future tense before, but Kelvin talks all the time. Sometimes he doesn’t even notice he’s talking until you bring it up.”
Tini turned on her bench to face her daughter and join the light, nervous chuckle breaking through her sad smile. She turned her attention to the ring on her middle finger and shook her head.
“I know I love him. I’m excited to spend a lot of life beside him. I don’t know if I’m his wife. Or a wife at all, really.”
“Shoot, me neither!” Tini exclaimed. “The only married people I’ve seen up close were your grandparents, and Lord knows I don’t want to be married like that. So, that makes two of us, huh?”
Asia rolled her eyes. “You and Curtis are different. Y’all lived whole lives before you even thought about getting married, then decided to finish things up together.”
“You act like I’m about to die, girl! I’m almost sixty, not dead!” Tini threw her head back to laugh as Asia tried to explain away her mistake, taking delight in being on the other end of a social faux pas for once. “Listen, child. The only difference between us and you two how y’all understand these computers. Love doesn’t come easier because you’re older. You have to grow into it forever.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Tears welled in Asia’s eyes, prickling the corners as she looked to Tini. “I told him love wasn’t enough last night without sharing a solution. And I’m afraid I’ll take too long to find out. I’m sure he’s deciding how to end this by tomorrow.”
Martina reached out to rest a hand on Asia’s knee and squeezed. She smiled, easy and bright. “Kelvin is getting roughed up and making sure Curtis doesn’t drink his old tail into a coma before the reservation. That’s all.”
Asia shifted her focus to the hem of her dress to pick at loose threads made worse by her disturbance. Tini let her smile soften as she continued.
“Love isn’t enough. You’re right. It’s the foundation for the ultimate promise if that’s the route meant for you. Love, when you put it to work, is a choice, Asia. You two chose to try again. Kelvin chooses to pack up his things every other week and fly down here. You chose to put your fear aside and meet his family. You choose to include one another.
Tini reached up to lift Asia’s chin. A heaviness gripped her heart—a reminder of her own choices in a time she often prayed to reclaim for her daughter’s sake. A soft caress against her cheek caught a wayward tear. “Choices mount up to a lifetime together that you two get to define on your own terms, baby. But you can’t discover those terms if you keep running away. Unless you want to run away?”
“I don’t want to run away. I just want to get it right.”
“You decide your happiness. Not a certificate. If you want to marry him because he’s your calm and you want to choose him forever, then do it. If you don’t, tell him that. Don’t allow fear of what might happen stop you from deciding what you want to happen.” Tini said, a maternal gentleness wrapping around her sound counsel.
What did she want to happen? Asia wrestled with the question surrounded by laughter and excitement at the dinner table as time ticked away to the main event. She’d spent lifetimes of energy planning for what she didn’t desire, never considering success. The early mornings in the kitchen spent playing sous chef for Kelvin’s culinary exploits. The quiet moments on the couch, individual hobbies keeping them in separate bubbles while their legs intertwined beneath a heavy blanket. Or the times spent so wrapped up in each other that the outside world fell away into nothing but the love letters passing between their lips between kisses. That’s what she wanted. That’s what she had. It’s what she’d choose every time.
Realization catapulted back into the present, her attention falling onto the side of Kelvin’s face illuminated by soft candlelight as he joked with Charles about football rivalries. Her hand searched his beneath the table to lace their fingers. Without missing a beat, he welcomed her in, his thumb following its usual path to caress her knuckles before pausing to look at her and quirk his brow.
“You alright?” Concern sat thick on his face until Asia cracked a smile.
She nodded. “Yeah. Just saying I’m sorry and I love you.”
Joy lit Kelvin from the inside and spilled into a grin he couldn’t contain. He leaned in without warning to connect a sweet kiss to Asia’s cheek before treating her hand to the same affection.
“I love you, too.” The urge to say more rushed through him in a tidal wave. “Hey, look, I—”
What lay on the other side of his sentence became lost to the sudden scrape of wood on polished concrete as Curtis pushed back from the table and stood to his feet. Asia locked eyes with her mother, mouthing, “Look surprised!” in her direction. Lifetime Network-worthy acting morphed Tini’s face into one of halfway believable shock as Curtis sucked in a deep breath.
His barrel chest inflated, then softened with an exhale as his namesake offered comedic relief.
“Take your time,” he said, his voice mocking an old woman’s tone.
Curtis took the teasing in stride. “Remind me to kick your ass later, boy,” he said, inducing laughter around the table. He tugged at his collar and released a nervous chuckle. “Look, we all know I’m not a words guy. Never have been. I speak when there’s something important to say. So, here I go.”
Two sips of brown liquor helped Curtis clear his glass and his mind. In the silence, Kelvin pulled Asia’s chair closer and snaked an arm around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Ten years ago, I met the sunshine I hadn’t seen in a long, long while. She changed my life. Things I didn’t see beauty in, she made sparkle. I fell in love before she told me her last name.” Curtis turned to Asia and reached for her hand. “She also brought me something I always wanted: a daughter.”
The skin on Asia’s arms, already warm from her lover’s embrace, seemed to scorch and travel up to the apples of her cheeks. Shock loosened the lid on her jaw, and a torrent of emotions, leaving her lips parted in a futile attempt to breathe while tears obstructed her vision. Daughter. The title felt foreign, like shoes too big or pants too small. But one she’d grow into over time.
“As much as I want your mother’s hand in marriage, I want to ask how you feel about me being your father. That is, if you’ll have me.”
Asia dabbed at her eyes and choked out a response. “Yeah. That’s cool,” she said, inviting laughter from the others. “We could do that.”
Curtis pulled Asia to her feet and enveloped her in a hug too spiritual to be characterized as mundane affection. Kelvin noticed first, his own eyes filling with water he tried to tame behind his cloth napkin and a smile. Wrapped in scotch and spice, love made itself plain in a brand-new way.
“My girl,” Curtis smiled as he pulled back to get another look at Asia’s face. “I have something for you later.”
Asia quelled her curiosity as she took her seat. Kelvin pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, hoping his actions could fill the gaps words couldn’t reach.
“Now for the easy part,” Curtis joked, a triumphant smile stretching across his face.
Martina took mock exception, a smile betraying the forced ire in her glare. “Excuse me? There is nothing easy about asking me for my hand in holy matrimony, Curtis White III!”
“Tini, you’ve been expecting this for two weeks. You just want a show.”
“I do have a flair for the dramatic,” Tini admitted, a girlish giggle in her voice. “You love it.”
Curtis reached into his pocket for the small box separating him from a new beginning. “Since you know, let’s get to the exciting stuff before they kick us out for this spectacle.”
Curtis dropped to one knee, his left knee yielding to the magic swirling around them, and retrieved the wooden box from his pocket. Words lined with promises of forever drew a crowd excited to witness true love’s reward. Joy became the night’s entrée. Hope connected strangers and family alike. Tini’s ecstatic ‘yes’ spread like wildfire, latching on to every tongue as the only acceptable answer to life’s questions.
Will you marry me? Yes!
More champagne? Yes!
Party at my place? Yes!
After the royal blue sapphire atop a dazzling gold band found its new home on Martina Scott’s left ring finger, a celebration for the happy couple found a home in the center of her living room. Too $hort blasted from Curtis’s old school sound system as family and friends across generations wiggled to the beat, holding cups of their chosen libation. Infectious energy and a hint of earthy marijuana coursed through the room with enough fervor to keep partygoers out of their seats.
From the kitchen, Asia sipped red wine and nodded along while she watched Tini learn dance moves from Christopher. Her shoulders bounced from laughter she couldn’t contain—laughter she wanted to share.
“The necklace looks nice on you. Curtis almost lost his mind looking for lab-grown stones.” Kelvin’s bright alto called goosebumps on Asia’s arm to attention as he sauntered into the kitchen from the hallway. He reached for the pendant resting on her chest and adjusted it to its proper position on the shining gold chain.
They held each other’s gaze as his touch lingered. Asia smiled. “You knew?”
“Something like that.” Mischief danced behind Kelvin’s impish grin as he reached up to pinch her cheek, inviting contagious giggling that seemed to eclipse the chaos nearby. “Why are you drinking by yourself? C’mon, let’s dance.”
“Maybe later,” Asia said, resisting Kelvin’s gentle tug toward the exit. “Can we finally have that talk? Outside?”
----
Crisp December air reminded them of the season and alcohol’s inability to act as a tangible shield despite its internal heating effect. Kelvin rushed to shed his sweater and drape it over Asia’s shoulders before pulling her close to share his body heat. His palms blazed a warm circle against her lower back as he pressed the spot to bring her flush to his chest.
He searched her face for discomfort in the dim porch light. “Warm enough?”
Asia meant to say yes. She meant to regurgitate the preamble she’d rehearsed on the ride to and from the restaurant, a soliloquy to explain herself without stumbling over words she never meant to share. Instead, she opened her mouth to speak, closed it to salvage an unexpected stammer, then blurted a sentence not in her mental script.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Kelvin crinkled his brow. “Okay?”
“I mean with us. In love.” Her attempt at clarity dug a deeper pit packed to the brim with confusion. She moved to close the loop on their embrace. “Love isn’t enough. I meant that. But it’s a hell of a start. I was wrong to discredit what that meant to you, and I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me right now. It’s okay.”
Kelvin cut into Asia’s apology with a kiss. Gentle. Sweet. Familiar. Loving. An entire history encased in a simple act.
Her fingers found their way into his back pockets for shelter as he pulled away. He swiped at her bottom lip, clearing smudged gloss. A choice. An act of love. “I don’t want to marry you because of my parents or the Bible. To know me is to know I’ve spent every second since I turned 18 rejecting everything they’ve told me to do. You’ll have to talk to Mel about how all that works.”
His explanation swirled within the wind whipping around them, almost as a single whisper being carried miles away. He kept his gaze soft on the journey from her lips to her eyes. Photographs snapped by a brain committed to turning every interaction into a memory capture the unique peaks and valleys that made up Asia Scott.
“When we made things official, I played our lives in my head like a movie. Before you, I never considered a long-term future doing anything with anyone. I was tethered to a stool and a piano my whole childhood. I wasn’t trying to commit to one thing again, you know?”
“What’d you see?”
“You,” Kelvin said. He kissed her nose and smiled. “I saw you sitting at the table during my first big award show, you in the kitchen taking forever to cut an onion for Sunday soup, you on the other side of the bed with your big ass bonnet and your phone extra loud, watching videos.”
“I’m better now!” Asia said, laughing.
Kelvin shook his head. “No, you’re not. But that’s okay.” He leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. “The point is, I wasn’t considering a wedding or a ring. I’ve always seen the in-between. That’s what makes me want to walk beside you in life. That’s why I want to marry you. Forget words in a book or shit they say I have to do. It’s just you.”
Their bodies swayed to music that didn’t exist. Their last dance in another year of discoveries. Possibly, their first in a year already marked by understanding. Kelvin brushed his lips against her nose to taste her skin. He signed and closed his eyes.
“I know you think I have some secret answers in love. I don’t, baby. This shit is new for me, too.”
“Yeah, but you saw your parents. You know what it looks like.”
Kelvin scoffed. “My folks got married to have sex because my mom wouldn’t without a ring. There’s no telling where they’d be if they disappointed my grandparents and fucked in the backseat like everybody else.”
“Or got fingered by their coworker on the couch their first time hanging out outside of work,” Asia said, her eyebrows wiggling to induce laughter from Kelvin.
“Or that. And we’re in the same place. Everything is up to us. Right?”
“Right,” Asia conceded.
“Then we’ll do what the fuck we want!” If anyone heard his shouting in the minutes before midnight, they’d think the sound unfit for civilization. Asia, however, had never felt more certain. “Please learn with me. I love you too much not to try.”
Tini’s words sprang up from the recesses of Asia’s brain. She smiled and brought her hands up to cup Kelvin’s face. “You’re choosing me.”
“Climate catastrophe and all.” Kelvin listened to the melodies in Asia’s laughter, each note lulling him into a pit of undying passion he had no desire to climb from. Was it heaven or his demise? Rolling the dice on fate never felt more invigorating. “Do you choose me?” he asked, his voice softening and expression growing serious as he pulled her close enough to feel her heart’s pace quicken. ”I’m not asking if we’re going to the chapel tomorrow or what to name our kids. I need to know you’re choosing me the way I’m choosing you.”
“I do.” Asia tried the words on for size, looking for warning signs in her body the way her mother and grandmother had taught her in her youth. They both paused. The words lingered, then settled without the earth shifting beneath their feet. Confirmation.
Kelvin leaned in, not caring who might see his unabashed attempt to outdo the French. Somewhere in the future, he’d thank himself for the practice. Long, deft fingers dancing past the curve of her hip for a squeeze or two on her behind may learn to stay put in front of his mother. Maybe he could clean up the suckle on her bottom lip or hold back the low groan from his throat as she pressed the point of her nails into his neck. Time afforded them the luxury of fine-tuning the details.
They teetered on inappropriate as seconds ticked closer to midnight, forgetting about their manufactured solitude until a ruckus in the house popped their bubble and reminded them of the occasion.
“We should get inside,” Asia whispered against Kelvin’s lips. “Charles is gonna come looking for you.”
“My shoulder is so fucked up right now, babe. You don’t even know.”
“He’s always like that. Consider it your welcome to the family.” Asia slid out of their hug to lace her fingers between Kelvin’s. “Come on. I’ll grab you a heating pad and another shot. One of them will loosen you up.”
Pliant and willing, Kelvin allowed his lover to tug him along and lead the way inside. To add another scene to their movie. To take a step. To make a choice.
Curtis White III was ready to marry Martina Scott.
If he were honest, the thought of making her his second wife had sprouted during their third date when she ordered four different glasses of red wine because she saw an opportunity to teach him a little something about how to pair flavors. He sat across from her, a grin fighting against his usual stoic frown, and thought about how he’d tell his three sons that he’d fallen in love again after twenty years.
Tini was a wildcard. An enigma. A Pandora’s box of personality that had enchanted him from their first hello in a kickboxing class. Sass and confidence spilled from her pores, adding fragrance to any room she graced with her sparkling presence. Three years as her beau had him ready to hear wedding bells with Tini in his life, if she would have him. The thought of her refusing his request to join as life partners started a nervous jig in his injured left knee, sending the heavy bone bouncing into the underside of the table he shared with Asia and the boyfriend whose name he couldn’t quite nail down.
The younger version of Tini sat across from Curtis, sneaking confused looks at Kelvin as they waited for Curtis to say…anything. Awkward silence surrounded the trio, turning an already strange situation into one worth escaping before the entrées hit the table.
“It’s, like, so warm outside. Crazy for the end of the year. Right, babe?”
Kelvin feigned interest to massage tension out of the air. “It’s crazy. The globe is…warming. Hot as hell.”
“Oh, maybe that’s too far. How about the weather for this week instead of climate catastrophe?” Asia said, trying to redirect the conversation.
“Yeah, but that’s important. We should have more conversations about it.”
“Not right now, though.”
“If not now, then when? We’re dying on this rock, baby.” A sharp elbow to Kelvin’s ribs knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him into a coughing, sputtering fit. “Hello!”
Asia glared back at him. “The weather! That’s it!”
Quiet bickering turned full-grown adults into children trading harsh whispers over trivial matters. Curtis regarded them with a disinterested, pensive stare before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“I want to marry your mother.”
Curtis’s admission tumbled from his lips to rest on their dinner table, smashing the tension into particles too fine to capture and piece together again.
Kelvin shifted his eyes to Asia, hoping to predicate his reaction on hers, but found her blank stare and slack jaw too drastic to share. Despite the ache against his ribcage and the shock pumping blood through his heart faster than it should, he remained levelheaded as he reached for Asia’s hand.
“You want to what?” Asia had never taken Curtis for the sentimental type. Once, for Christmas, he gifted his toolbox and a brand new set of shining hinges to handle squeaky hingeds, not the necklace and perfume oils Tini preferred.
“I want to marry your mama,” he said, his tone firm. “I didn’t want to spring it on both of y’all, so figured I’d break the news before tomorrow night. Maybe get your blessing first. If you don’t mind.” For the first time since three glasses of ice-cold water hit the table, Curtis made eye contact with Asia in a silent plea for her understanding.
Asia sat back against the booth’s leather, astonished. She expected questions about New Year’s Eve plans or the open secret that he had moved his clothes into Tini’s spare bedroom as the important news for the evening. Not this.
She huffed out nervous laughter. “Curtis, you know you don’t need that. It’s okay.”
“I know. I want it.” A faint smile teased the corner of his lips. “You’re her pride and joy. The day doesn’t move until Tini talks about her favorite chocolate chip. And I feel like I’ve watched you grow up all these years. You’re just as important to me as your mother is. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t part of the decision.”
Kelvin smiled as he caressed Asia’s knuckles with his thumb. “That’s cool, man. Don’t let the whole climate change thing stop you. I was just talking shit. You know the news says it’s a hoax anyway.” Asia cut her eyes at her talkative boyfriend, earning a mouthed apology.
“Well, thank you. You have my blessing. I’m serious.” Through her shock, Asia tried to imagine a world where Curtis didn’t exist beside her mother and saw nothing. He was a bastion of stability. Who better to ask for her mother’s hand in marriage? “Why now? It’s been forever, and you both sounded happy just to be together. You know Mama’s cool if you don’t, right?”
“I love her.” Asia and Kelvin saw the pure adoration in his smile as all the explanation neccessary. Curtis let his grin grow into a full smile. “Most of my days are behind me now, but I’ll be damned if Tini doesn’t make the ones ahead worth it. If I don’t ask, regardless of what she says back to me, I couldn’t live with myself.”
“I feel that.”
Kelvin shared a knowing look with Curtis. He understood better than anyone what it meant to have a Scott woman turn a mundane existence into one worth living.
Heat washed over Asia’s body when she caught Kelvin slipping into a contemplative daze while his thumb caressed her ring finger. She looked back at Curtis and smiled. “That’s really sweet, Curtis. Add that to the proposal.” Emotions welled in Asia’s eyes, threatening an appearance she beat back by distracting her mind with other thoughts. “Do you have the ring? Can I see it?”
“Yeah, I got her a little something. Not much, but…” Curtis let his explanation fall away into nothing as he fished around inside the front pocket of his trousers for a wooden box. Smooth, dark oak gleamed under dim lighting, adding dimension to the ornate carvings forming a simple Swahili phrase. He reached across the table to present his treasure to Asia. “The boy at that apothecary Tini goes to says it means ‘Will you marry me?’ but that negro would lie with his hand on the Bible. Can’t trust nobody doing taxes in the back of their herbal shop.”
“No, no! That’s right,” Asia confirmed as she ran her fingers against the grooves. “For whatever reason, it’s the first word I learned when she made me take lessons in ninth grade. It’s the only one I remember. And the curse words.”
“Should’ve taken you with me then, Chip. Lord knows I could’ve saved one of my shirts from all the sweating I did if I had you around.” Curtis laughed.
Kelvin sat as an outsider, a smile spreading across his face in tandem with Asia’s as he took a mental snapshot of the moment unfolding before him. Father and daughter. Years playing second fiddle to his own father’s pride and joy had taught him much about the intricacies of such a sacred dynamic. He’d seen it, felt it, and marveled at the love up close. Watching Asia and Curtis felt like a special déjà vu, too beautiful to interrupt. So, he remained quiet and grateful as Curtis urged Asia to provide her opinion.
“Go on. Open it. I want to know what you think.”
Asia took a deep breath, her eyes focused on the small secret in her hands, then carefully lifted the lid. Inside, a sapphire stone cut into the perfect pear stunned Asia into a gasp. Her fingers caressed the thin gold band, allowing the cold metal to remind her she was real. This wasn’t a dream destined for interruption when the alarm clock blared its sad song.
She turned the box to Kelvin, her mouth agape to match his growing surprise. “This shit is crazy, right! Tell me this isn’t insane.”
“I’ll marry you if she says no. We can make it work. China tell you I can cook? How you like your steak, man?”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Asia interjected to stop Kelvin’s impending rant from growing legs. “It’s beautiful. If I know anything about Mama, this is exactly what she’d draw up if you could convince her to spend five minutes talking about marriage and weddings.” She gazed down at the stone, smiling through flashes of almost forgotten memories. Tears pricked the inner corners of her eyes as a silent threat to spill emotions she preferred to keep under lock and key. Two quick blinks and a quick breath pulled her unspooling feelings back into their neat, hidden box before she looked up at Curtis. “She’s gonna love it.”
Curtis breathed a sigh of relief. “You think so? It’s not too flashy?”
“Nothing is too flashy for Martina Scott. She loves a dollar spent!”
“Mm, sounds like somebody else I know.” Kelvin added a sweet kiss to Asia’s cheek to soften his sarcasm, earning an eye roll. He spoke against her cheek. “And I’ll spend every penny when the time comes.”
Mischief sparkled in Curtis’s dark brown eyes as he reached to retrieve the ring box from Asia’s outstretched hand. “What’s the plan? It’s been, what, four years?”
Three years, eight months, six days, and a few hours if Kelvin’s mental math was right. At least that’s about what he told his father when he visited to beg for his Grand-mère’s coveted diamond ring months ago. Under dim moonlight, with cigar smoke swirling in the balmy air and burning his lungs, Kelvin laid out his case for inheriting the family heirloom and how he’d put it to good use. Talks of fated love and a promise to be the man they raised tumbled from his lips as his father chuckled along.
“You love the girl. That’s enough, son. No need for the theatrics.” Senior’s plain response sparked embers of rage inside Kelvin before a tidal wave of rational thought doused the growing flames. It was enough. Love kept him kind. It kept him committed and dutiful. Love turned faults into opportunities for deeper connection. Love convinced his father to turn over the silver ring that had seen decades of loving couples dare to join in holy matrimony.
And love produced a broad smile as Kelvin sat up straight to answer Curtis.
“Something like that,” he started before reaching for Asia. She slipped her fingers from his grasp to grab hold of her water glass. “Obviously, I can’t say much, but—”
“Where’s this happening? The house? You got some place rented? Mama loves that little Italian spot in Midtown. It’s so nice inside. Where is our food?”
Rushed questions and empty sentiments swirled around the trio, filling the small booth with enough frantic energy to induce a coughing fit from Curtis. Kelvin struggled with a foreign emotion as he watched Asia fiddle with silverware on the table to avoid making eye contact. Love had convinced him they were on the verge of forever. But love hadn’t relayed the message to his better half.
His shoulders slumped under the weight of defeat as Curtis fought through his hacking to fill the awkward silence. “Yeah, yeah,” he answered between sips from his water. “I got a plan. Let me run it by you to see what you think.”
Time and conversations around them blurred into background chatter flitting between Kelvin’s ears as he poked holes into food he no longer had the stomach to consume. He allowed his face to betray the turmoil whipping a storm made of big feelings, offering a weak smile and passive responses when prompted, until Asia’s apartment provided enough privacy to drop the charade.
As Asia split her attention between combining serums in her skincare routine and debriefing on their shared secret, Kelvin rested atop her bed with a crestfallen stare, directing his eyes toward the sky to watch the ceiling fan’s endless revolutions.
“So, like, I’m not a fan of the red velvet blazer, and I know my mom’s gonna hate it, but it’s his moment too, you know? You can wear something ugly on your big day if you like it. I’d tell you later, though. I’m not worried you would wear something ugly, but if you did, I’d tell you after.”
Kelvin rolled his eyes. “Thanks for being honest, babe.”
“Of course. It’s why you love me.” All traces of her partner’s sarcasm melted into nothing while Asia examined the mountain of suds covering her face. “I can’t believe this is happening. Married! That’s nuts. No one in this family gets married except my uncle. He gets married once a decade.”
“What a family tradition. Beautiful, really.”
A second dose of humorless retorts made Asia frown as she wiped away her cleanser. “Damn. Excuse me for not growing up in a two-parent home with great examples. Everybody ain’t able, Deacon.”
“Asia. You know that’s not what I meant,” Kelvin said, trying to explain his crude remark. When silence answered his covert plea for forgiveness, he sat up in bed. “I didn’t mean it like that, baby.”
“Well, that’s what I heard. Kill it before we argue away the only weekend we have this month.”
Kelvin let her advice silence their burgeoning back-and-forth for a moment. The pact to quash arguments during visits had served them well, turning dust-ups into apologies before harsh words could enter the atmosphere. But as latent feelings continued bubbling beneath the surface, he pushed convention to the back burner and stood to approach the bathroom door.
Asia pretended not to notice the shadow looming in her periphery. She’d spend the rest of the night in silence to prove a point if needed. Apologizing remained out of the question as far as she was concerned.
Kelvin watched her work with keen focus, trying to decipher her mood. When his analysis came back empty, he dove into uncharted waters headfirst.
“Do you…want to get married?” His question seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Asia’s discomfort remained behind a stony expression as she dropped serum on her cheeks. “I don’t know, babe. I don’t think about it.”
“You don’t think about it? Like ever?”
“Why would I? You just talked about my shitty upbringing. No dad. Flighty mom until I was eighteen. Crazy ass family. You got it all figured out. Don’t start a fight for fun.”
“I’m not—” Blood pulsed at Kelvin’s temples, clouding his vision. He sucked in clean air and exhaled into his fist before attempting a response. “We’ve been doing this for damn near four years. You telling me marriage never crossed your mind? Not even once?”
A slow blink to coral emotions brimming at her waterline helped Asia compose herself. “What should I say, Kelvin?”
“I want you to say that you love me! That you want this forever. Is that scary to say, or do you not feel it? Because if you don’t feel that, then what the fuck are we doing? Where are we going?”
“What’s wrong with where we are? Why are we always going somewhere?” She asked, waving her hands around at nothing.
“What?!” The pulsing returned with more fury. Kelvin stepped further into the bathroom to pace behind Asia. “Are you serious? You’re asking why we should consider marriage? That’s stupid.”
Asia whipped her body around to face him. Anger radiated from her entire being. “Yeah, I am, actually. All I ever hear is how it’s what’s supposed to happen. You tell me what your mom says, what your dad wants, what the Bible says, but you never tell me what Kelvin thinks. I’m supposed to go along with an abstract thought, blindly following you like a good little girlfriend. Fuck that. Give me an actual answer or cut this out.”
“Is me loving you not enough?!”
“No!”
The simple phrase bounced off each wall, tearing through mounting tension like a bullet tears through flesh. Kelvin felt his chest tighten as breath caught in his throat. A tear met the back of Asia’s hand to hide an emotional response.
She closed her eyes to speak. “Love is just a feeling. You can love me today and leave tomorrow. It’s not enough to sustain a marriage, Kel. When you see that, we can discuss the future. Until then, I’m going to bed. Join me or find a spot on the couch.”
Defeat sounded like the bathroom door clicking shut, the soft sound intermixing with Asia’s words still ringing in Kelvin’s mind. Solitude reminded him to release the breath he’d been holding out of fear he’d say something he could take back. The overhead fluorescent light helped the water droplets clinging to the mirror blaze a path clear enough for his reflection to peek through. Confusion and contemplation morphed into something he didn’t recognize. Shame? Sadness? Guilt in knowing at least some of what she’d leveled upon him was true?
Love is just a feeling.
The word he’d used as a baseline for all his convictions was only a fleeting emotion in Asia’s world. He felt the wind abandon his sails, sending him adrift in the sea of thoughts governing his brain. Cold porcelain attempted to shock his system into action as he leaned against the sink for support.
Blindsided. He’d only experienced total surprise once in his life, and even that didn’t return his pride to him in a crumpled heap. Asia’s pragmatism had dashed the hopes and dreams of a whimsical ego, leaving him to pick up the pieces alone.
“Love is just a feeling. You can love me today and love someone else tomorrow. It’s not enough to sustain a marriage.”
He mulled over the words until thinking felt like painful pinpricks against his active brain. He wanted to fight. Not to argue and shout, but to grab hold of their differences and mold them into common ground until they were traveling in the same direction. But the inner storm seeping into his tired eyes stole any will to fight left inside him. He settled into defeat with a sigh before generating enough strength to turn off the bathroom light and slink out into the darkness awaiting him in the bedroom.
Slivers of moonlight slipping through the blinds and sheer curtains illuminated the stiff lump occupying Asia’s usual spot. He noticed her shoulders’ slow rise and fall come to an abrupt halt when he entered the room and allowed himself a half smile as he slid into bed behind her. Temptation to fall into familiar patterns halted his inclination to pull her back into his front and tuck his nose into her neck. His hand hovered over her waist in a tentative dance before restraint wrestled it back to his side.
Awkward, stilted breathing filled the gaps between the ceiling fan’s low whoosh while stubborn adults played cat and mouse in the darkness. Minutes slowed to a muddy creep. The invisible barrier between them introduced a special torture. Unblinking stares into the abyss stole sleep like an expert thief.
Then, a breach. Manicured nails crossed their invisible divider, feeling around in the dark for a hand almost as familiar as her own. Kelvin allowed Asia to intertwine their fingers before pulling him closer until his arm draped across her midsection. They exhaled in tandem, serotonin coursing through their veins to soothe untamed emotions.
Kelvin settled further into their embrace before dropping a kiss onto her shoulder. “Give me a chance to make it plain to you. That’s all I ask. Don’t shut me out.”
I'm so livid about these Golden Globes nominations when it comes to Sinners. Not surprised...just pissed. They snubbed the fuck out of Wunmi, Miles, Delroy, and Hailee! It is obvious just how much Warner Bros. and Hollyweird sabotaged the film for award season so they could prop up One Battle After Another every chance they got. Rolling Stone and Variety have been slandering the film and Ryan since the moment it was released.
I'm sick of this racist ass system. Time and time again I see countless Black actors, especially women, go unrecognized. Disappointment doesn't even summarize how hurt I am for Wunmi to be overlooked. Annie is their saving grace, the protector and healer of the film. She deserves to be honored along with Sammie—the heartbeat and survivor. I pray that Michael and Ryan get their just due, but I feel like they want to make an example out of them cause they're mad at their success... There's a clear WB darling.
Summary: Asia teaches Kelvin a new lesson in the bedroom.
Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC
Warnings: Smut (18+ Content)
Word Count: 5,957
Kelvin Harrison Jr. was a preacher’s kid. A church boy. The golden child.
He played the same piano every Sunday for the first 19 years of his life, sat in every torturous revival, women’s and men’s conference, and Vacation Bible School when most other children his age could enjoy hours of video games and sports practices. Dr. Kelvin Harrison Sr. was rarely without his lookalike, and New Hope Ministries seldom saw a service without the little boy perched at his instrument to accompany his younger sister in praise and worship until the boy grew into a man.
Days after his 19th birthday, Kelvin broke the news that New Hope should begin searching for a new pianist. He had plans to join his sister in Texas to pursue…something. He wasn’t sure what pot of gold sat at the end of his rainbow, but he knew he wouldn’t find it in New Orleans.
Wanda’s eyes filled with tears for her only boy’s soul. Kelvin Sr. didn’t hide his frustration in having to source and pay for a service he’d enjoyed for free over seven years, but understood a man’s ambition to explore the world on his own. At any rate, Kelvin spent the last Saturday of the same month packing all he could fit into two suitcases and his Toyota coupe to speed off toward Houston before he could witness his mother start another round of histrionics.
Little by little, a church boy morphed into a man exploring hidden vices without restraint. Sex he’d been sneaking since 16 came without fear. Sips of alcohol consumed at parties he’d lied to attend became drunken nights with people he’d never remember. The wonders of weed and other drugs provided by a pretty girl in Miami started a creative awakening that sent him further north for his first big boy job and into the arms of an angel named Asia.
Asia didn’t know the boy poised to take on his father’s calling from the day a prophet foretold his birth. She’d seen him pray over dinner and heard sermons blaring from beyond a closed bathroom door on Sunday mornings, but thought nothing of either occurrence. Black folks weren’t strangers to a divine connection. But, as she sat next to her boyfriend around his parents’ dinner table on the eve of their annual Giving Sunday service, watching him keep his hands visible instead of groping her thigh like usual as his accent thickened and slowed to a drawl to match those around him, she gleaned how little she understood about Kelvin Harrison Jr.
“J.R., do you remember that Sunday Sister Carter tried to ad-lib her way through the sermonic selection? What were we singin’?” Kelvin’s sister, Melody, couldn’t contain her laughter as she started another trip down memory lane.
Kelvin rushed to swallow his sip of lemonade. “Total Praise! Which isn’t a song you ad-lib to, by the way,” he clarified for Asia, knowing her knowledge of church tradition exhausted its usefulness over an hour ago. “I blame Dad for that, though.”
“Me?” The elder Harrison namesake pointed at himself with an amused glint in his eyes. “Is this one of those things you two swear happened that me and your mama don’t remember?”
“Oh, I remember! And it was your fault, Hubby. You and that silver tongue of yours had that woman’s head so big she could barely get into the choir stand!”
Asia snuck a glance across the table at Wanda Harrison, hoping to see a laugh or smile on her heart-shaped face. Tawny skin freckled with small beauty marks near her eyes absorbed the overhead light and turned it into sunshine, grabbing her attention. High cheekbones framed by luscious sandy brown hair and rivaled those of models printed across the pages of Vogue kept her staring for a second too long. She was beautiful and at least partially responsible for the beauty of both the children bringing her joy amid their antics.
In their first meeting at a swanky Indian restaurant that Kelvin chose for aesthetics rather than quality, Asia couldn’t string together two sentences to engage the First Lady without flubbing her words. Nerves had her in an ugly vice grip, adding insult to awkward conversations and timid glances. She’d since tried to redeem herself in brief FaceTime interactions, but only received pleasantries and a veiled compliment on a set of vintage earrings. The phrase “those look expensive” was difficult to translate into anything meaningful.
She’d spent months attempting to decipher what made such a stoic woman break the seal on her joy, yet came up empty every time. Apparently, sentimental gestures and reminiscing did the trick. Noted.
Kelvin Sr. chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. “Am I not supposed to encourage the people of God in the house of God? I have the gift of gab. Who would I be to let the gift go to waste?”
“Sounds like somebody else I know.” Internal thoughts meant for a solo audience spilled into the atmosphere quicker than Asia could collect them. When all eyes fell on her, she shrank back into her seat. “Kel is just a, uh…really great talker,” she answered, unable to stop her lips from moving. “He once talked our way into this lounge downtown in Chicago. Ended up with some discounted apps and…stuff.”
Weed still covered in cling wrap and buried deep in Kelvin’s bedside table was the “stuff” bought during their wild night out.
All the air left in the room evaporated and returned with the heaviness of a wet blanket. Wanda blinked once, twice, then a third time before clearing her throat. “Well, we placed him in more than a few oratory courses and competitions to prepare him for his calling. At least he’s still using all that knowledge out in the world.”
Asia watched Kelvin shrink down into his chair, afraid to make eye contact with anyone at the table while feigning interest in the remnants of rice and cabbage still left on his plate. Melody offered silent comfort across the table. She’d warned Asia on more than one occasion about their mother’s disposition. Wanda had her ways. God wasn’t through with her yet.
“You enjoying Chicago, Asia?” Pastor Harrison’s question startled Asia into a split second of silence. He knew her name?
“Oh, I guess,” she answered, unsure of the correct way to satisfy his curiosity. “I enjoy it every time I visit, at least. Beautiful city. Amazing food. One of my favorite people. That’s enough for me.”
The older man flashed an affable grin resembling his only son’s signature expression and nodded. “Deacon told me you like to eat. Could’ve fooled me with all the food you had left over that night at the restaurant.”
“Yeah, well, that was different. I told Deacon that the place wasn’t worth all the trouble he went through for the reservation, but he doesn’t always listen to me.”
“At least you get him to act right sometimes,” Pastor Harrison said, laughing along with his children.
Warmth flooded Kelvin’s insides from every direction at the sound of his family nickname falling from Asia’s lips. Effortless. Though she’d consider her first eight hours with the Harrisons an awkward, bumbling mess, he saw a future with infinite dinner table chats. A little Deacon or two would sit on his mother’s lap, eating too much peach cobbler and ice cream. He would complain to his parents about the sugar to satisfy his wife, but ultimately beam with pride as he watched a dream recently given life come to fruition.
In his haze, murmurs of bonding over the wonders of boudin and local staples passed between his ears like familiar bedtime stories. Asia had found common ground and an ally in his father. Identical smiles crinkled fine lines in twin faces positioned on opposite ends of the table.
Wanda noticed first. Her warm brown eyes scanned both versions of her husband until they met at their shared center of affection. The interesting young lady from the phone calls had claimed another man in her life. Unchecked jealousy tickled the back of her throat, begging her to release words meant to steal the spotlight, but she swallowed them with the aftertaste of embarrassment. Instead, she kept quiet and did her best to grin through the unexplained discomfort.
Melody noticed, too. She’d heard each of Kelvin’s horror stories, some ten times over, was there for his first heartbreak and the first heart he broke, listened to tales of terrible first dates, received too much information on one-night stands, and rolled her eyes through hasty talks of forever from a man never known for his commitment to anything substantial. But Asia was different. Melody knew the first time Kelvin said her name, smiling from ear to ear as he recounted their first date before asking how soon was too soon to make things official. As she listened to the woman in question flow through easy banter with her father, she wished he’d done so sooner.
“Well, I would’ve loved some expensive, nasty food with my little brother. He hasn’t even invited me to Chicago yet.”
Kelvin dropped his jaw in disbelief. “I told you to bring Damian and the kids last summer, but you told me no!”
“I like to travel alone. That man and those kids can stay right where they’re at. You see they aren’t here today.” Asia found herself tickled by Melody’s matter-of-fact tone and raised her glass in solidarity when the youngest Harrison went to take a sip of water.
“Oh, hush,” Wanda said as she waved off her daughter’s antics. “See, this is what I mean when I say you new ladies are different these days. Your Nona took us everywhere, Hubby’s mama took all six of hers everywhere, and I carted you two around.”
“I wish you hadn’t! Kelvin was a terror in public! Mama almost left him at the mall one time.”
“Hey,” Kelvin shouted. A glare from his father pulled laughter from all except his son. He rushed to explain, his hands out in front of him to calm the incoming tongue-lashing. “In my defense, Macy’s is boring! Let’s also take some accountability for not having me tested as a kid. I could have ADHD!”
Pastor Harisson kissed his teeth and shook his head. “You don’t have ADHD, boy. We should’ve spent more time having your ass b-e-a-t. Be thankful the Lord spared you.”
“Deacon, you come home for half a day and got my husband cussin’! Shame on you!”
“Mama, you’re so innocent,” Melody laughed. “Daddy cusses all the time. He just doesn’t let you hear it. Ask your oldest.”
“Don’t ask me nothing. Especially not about the time I may or may not have missed piano practice after school in 10th grade because I may or may not have had detention and didn’t say anything. Allegedly.”
Asia’s resolve to stifle laughter and opinions during family business failed her as she fell into lockstep with the Harrison clan. “Babe, maybe you were a terror.”
Within the hour, Kelvin had lost his lone advocate to a family recounting each of his teenage missteps in great detail. He took every joke told at his expense in stride. If this were the price to watch the love of his life lean against his sister with happy tears in her eyes, clutching each other through laughter while his father turned dinner into a comedy show, he’d pay double to hold on to the moment forever.
As second helpings turned into sweet treats to fill their bellies to the brim, reality settled in to remind Kelvin and Melody of their responsibilities.
“I’m not about to play with y’all!” Melody swiped water from her lash line as pockets of giggles continued around the table following a tale of Kelvin’s first foray into provocative art on a church pew. “C’mon here, J.R., we still need to practice these songs so we can get you back to Christ by tonight.”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk to Dad really quickly. Out back. Alone. If that’s cool.” His eyes shifted from his father’s knowing smile, the two women of the house, to his curious girlfriend, and finally back to Melody and her annoyed frown. “Fifteen minutes and I’ll finish whatever you leave behind.”
“I could help!” Asia wished she could stuff her offer to help back into her brain and vaporize the thought forever. As if she’d offended the entire Harrison lineage, all eyes fell on her with varying degrees of confusion coloring the contours of their faces. “I just meant —”
The explanation for her unintended faux pas became lost in the abrupt scrape of wood on wood as she backed away from the dinner table. “Guests don’t clean here, baby. How about you unpack? Your room is the second one on the right. Downstairs.”
There was no mistaking Wanda’s request for Asia to make herself scarce and stay away from where her only son laid his head upstairs. Warm sentiments from the other Harrisons and a discreet air kiss from Kelvin did their best to assuage the sting of verbal lashings. Still, the effects remained with Asia as she attempted to remain unseen and unheard while life moved around her.
A quest to unpack in her modest guest suite became a pit-stop at the formal living room. The dark space sat opposite the main entrance like a museum calling for an inquisitive mind to explore the trove of family lore within. Asia attempted to ignore the phantom whisper to snoop, yet breached the threshold before flicking on the floor lamp beside the entrance.
Warm light added life to a space she could only describe as a time capsule. Photos spanning generations hung on the walls in vintage frames, showcasing ancestral smiles through the years. On the bookshelf at the far end of the room, plaques and awards filled the handcrafted display to the brim. In the corner, stacks of photo albums lay open like spell books, able to transport anyone who dared explore the pages through time. Asia let her body lead her to thumb through heaps of laminated pages packed with black people living lives she’d only ever imagined.
Asia flipped through a visual history of a family she longed to know, taking in the beauty of life. Her finger traced the outline of Kelvin frozen in time with his shoulders rolled back in front of the piano and his focus on stark white sheet music over his wire-rimmed frames. Kelvin Gets Ready for Magnet School Auditions - 2001. A small smile added to the gleam in Asia’s eyes as she tried to imagine what the little boy with a haircut reminiscent of a Marine recruit must’ve been like as a musical prodigy in the early aughts. Was he spunky? Sensitive? Beginning to realize music wasn’t his thing as much as it was the desire of the man sitting in the armchair in the photo’s background?
She didn’t allow herself to linger. Instead, she pried her eyes away from the photo album and tiptoed across the room to examine the contents of their built-in bookcase. Melody’s talent show certificates caught her eye first. First place wins covered all available space, giving context to the vocal powerhouse Kelvin described her as whenever he had time to dote on his little sister. Next to them, Wanda’s maiden and married names glittered, engraved on a host of community impact awards spanning decades of commitment. Her attempt to commit the organizations and dates to memory fell short when the abrasive plunk of a piano key scared Asia out of her investigation.
She jumped off the ground before clutching her chest. Mischievous snickers taunted her. “Kelvin! You’re supposed to be in the kitchen.”
“And you’re supposed to be unpacking,” he answered as he slid across the piano bench and began running his fingers along the keys.
He played without direction for a beat until he found his way to a gospel song he reached for when he thought no one was listening on Sunday mornings. He tinkered without speaking, allowing the quiet hum vibrating his chest to guide emotions from his body to the music.
“I like hearing you play,” Asia said, smiling. “What’s stopping you back at home?”
Explanations danced behind Kelvin’s sad eyes, betraying the half-smile on his face. “It’s easier to play when I’m home and leave it behind when my time is up.”
“Do you want that feeling back? The love?”
“We can talk about that later.” Despite the gentleness in his voice, Kelvin placed a period where Asia hoped for a comma. “Come over here and sit with me. I always wanted to serenade a girl at the piano like Jamie Foxx.”
Without protest, Asia took long strides to join Kelvin’s side and returned his earlier annoyance by pressing errant keys for a clash of harsh sounds. He grinned as she filled the spot beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. Instinct drove him to test a starting key before his fingers danced across the sea of black and white to tap out a familiar hit from Alicia Keys.
He hummed his way through verses he didn’t quite remember until he reached the chorus of ‘If I Ain’t Got You’ to harmonize with the main melody. Asia listened to him sing, entranced by the extent of his skill.
“You okay?”
“Mhm,” Asia hummed as she leaned into his side. “You okay?”
Kelvin continued to play, careening into the second verse with expert precision while he multitasked a conversation. “I’m okay,” he confirmed before turning to place a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for coming with me. It means a lot.”
“Of course, Deacon. I love you.”
Kelvin felt his body tingle with something familiar dancing up his spine. Logic told him to withhold the affection tingling his lips and tongue until they were back outside the watchful eyes of God-fearing parents. Desire convinced him to take a chance and steal a kiss while lust choked the last bit of common sense from his brain.
Eyelids fluttered closed. A magnetic force drew them nearer until their mouths hovered at the invisible barrier keeping them at bay since they rolled into the driveway. She braced for impact, hopeful for something quick to quell the fire in her bones.
“Man of God, this is a choir rehearsal, not a kissing booth. Didn’t you learn from Chelsea Thomas during Youth Hour of Power in 2012? And what happened to you finishing up the dishes?”
Thwarted. Melody sauntered into the room, a sly grin on her face as she passed the lovebirds caught in the act. Asia tried to giggle her way out of embarrassment. Kelvin cursed under his breath at the mention of his first lesson in intimacy and discretion.
“I’ll get to them when we’re done,” he said, grumbling while adjusting his position on the bench.
“Mm-hm. Do you know More Than Able, or do I need to play it?”
“Wait, what happened with Chelsea?”
Melody confirmed the right song with a proud smile while piano chords filled the room, interrupting further questioning as she took a sip from her glass of water. Kelvin paused for his sister’s approval.
“Oo-wee, China, girl,” Melody said, her voice loud and accent thick. “We still got Reverend Doctor Harrison Jr. in there somewhere! Let me see what you got.”
Asia watched the pair practice in awe, giggling as they infused secular songs where they didn’t belong to get a rise out of Wanda, who listened unseen nearby, before shouting for them to respect the Lord. They played until exhaustion slowed nimble fingers and turned powerful vocal cords into hoarse bellows. According to Melody, Jesus and all his angels would figure out the rest in the morning. And if they didn’t, she planned to induce a praise break to cover up their mishaps.
When the house fell silent and everyone inside retired to their separate areas, Asia stood in the only bedroom downstairs, shedding layers of clothing and revisiting all the negative outcomes that could unfold once the sun rose on a new day. Was her outfit appropriate enough? Did she know when to clap or how to navigate her new Bible app? Would it be obvious she didn’t know any of the songs? Thoughts running a mile a minute crinkled her brow as she examined the clothes laid out on her bed and considered whether wearing pants was still a good idea.
Three raps against the doorframe shifted Asia from internal debate to the smiling man holding a bottle of cold water. “Special delivery for my dehydrated queen.”
“Ha-ha,” she answered on her way to meet him at the door. Hooded eyes watched her walk across the room, wishing house rules allowed a proper salutation. Kelvin’s fingers lingered where they shouldn’t for a moment too long, leaving Asia to take the lead as the responsible adult. She retrieved the bottle with practiced grace and resolve, then took a step back to put a healthy distance between them. “Thank you for remembering. This’ll be good to revive me after I pass out from nerves.”
“Baby,” he cooed, amused. “It’s just church.”
Asia sighed and sat at the edge of the bed. “It’s just church for you. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m auditioning and can’t afford to embarrass you. If I mess this up, your parents are going to send me home without my luggage.”
“First off, Farrah, no one is sending you home. You never have to worry about that. Second…” Common sense took a backseat to concern as Kelvin stepped backwards into the hallway to check for intruders.
A clear coast gave him the go-ahead to bypass the imaginary velvet rope keeping him out of VIP and join Asia inside the bedroom. He sank to his knees in front of her to meet her eye line before resting his hands beside her hips. Asia leaned in to rest her forehead against his for comfort.
Kelvin smiled. “Second, there are far more embarrassing people at this church. I just saw my dad’s outfit and had to talk him out of skinny jeans. I asked where he got them from, and I’m pretty sure they’re a pair I left behind.”
“Did they fit?”
“What do you think?”
Soft laughter seeped into the hallway as they imagined a middle-aged pastor standing before his parishioners in 2010s-era skinny jeans. Ease and proximity invited a second chance at intimacy that Kelvin welcomed with open arms.
He moved to run his hands along her spine beneath the t-shirt she’d chosen as pajamas, then inched his lips closer to hers. “Need me to come sleep in here to help you calm down?”
“Just say you’ll miss me,” Asia teased as her arms encircled his neck.
“Let me show you instead.”
A kiss was the least she could do. Short pecks between giggles morphed into longer, more sultry bouts of affection, walking the plank to the point of no return.
Pastor Harrison’s keen ear heard the makings of a violation during his final security walkthrough near the front door. He looked to heaven for a word from the Lord, then sighed when directions to spare his only son’s life came back at record speed.
“Sweetheart! I’m downstairs by the kitchen. Do you need anything?”
Wanda needed nothing. Kelvin Sr. hadn’t even said the words loud enough for his wife to hear upstairs. Yet, his intended target heard the message loud and clear. Kelvin listened to a set of warning footsteps approach and retreat, knowing he wouldn’t get a second chance to leave.
“I’ll see you in the morning, okay.” His promise came with a last kiss and a squeeze to her sides as reassurance. “Get some rest. Or call me down here so I can put you to sleep.”
Kelvin never got to fulfill either of his promises. Restlessness and anxiety kept Asia awake all night, tossing and turning through nightmarish visions of new visitor introductions and invasive questions.
When she rose the next morning, a text message explained his absence and provided a harrowing alternative to his presence: she’d be alone with Wanda.
Greetings exchanged in hushed voices with minimal eye contact remained the only words as they rode in the backseat of a Black car, admiring the scenery from the window. Asia searched every corner of her brain for something to break the ice. All of her jokes were inappropriate. Stories about Kelvin seemed much worse. Compliments at this point, were redundant at best.
A lightbulb flickered inside her mind to present a big idea. “So what do you have planned for the Hope Fopointundation during the holidays?” Wanda’s slow acknowledgement of Asia’s voice sent her heart thumping against her rib cage as she waited for an answer.
Then, the older woman cracked a smile.
“Do you watch basketball? We’re partnering with the Pelicans for a toy market. It’s free for parents in the area to shop for Christmas. Actually, we just completed the 3D render to turn the sanctuary into a toy store. Do you want to see?”
Asia welcomed the Southern Belle’s invitation, her smile as bright as she could muster. They moved closer to each other to marvel at a short video detailing plans for a life-sized Winter Wonderland. Wanda spoke at hyper-speed, excitement radiating off her body and transferring to Asia as they chipped away at the awkwardness between them.
Chatter persisted until the car veered into a parking lot teeming with cars and families heading toward a massive, steepled building labeled with the New Hope logo.
The last time Asia sat inside a church, she crammed into the back pew of a small building and watched a pastor she didn’t recognize eulogize the last grandparent she’d ever known. There was no sprawling campus, sanctuary packed to the brim with congregants, screens playing graphics and announcements, or a stage to showcase a band setup fit for a world tour.
Once the countdown illuminating the main screen ticked down to triple zeros, the room came alive. Lights danced across the ceiling until they reached the stage to spotlight Melody and the praise team entering the room with the band playing at full strength, sending the room into a frenzy that could rival overtime at the Super Bowl. Asia looked on with a childlike sense of wonder as she clapped in time to the music.
Wanda watched the sights and sounds through fresh eyes. Years ago, when her family was under one roof and thousands of members were just a few dozen, she saw familiar excitement pass through her son’s smile as he played with the type of freedom only gifted to those without burdens. It’d been a lifetime since she had seen her only son exhibit pure joy as he put his gift to work. It’d been even longer since she’d had to confront what she’d since he'd called to share news of the woman he’d met at work. Kelvin was no longer her little boy. As Wanda watched Asia smile with loving pride while she tracked his every move, she felt the swell of gratitude at his return and the grief of his departure at once.
“You probably noticed your pastor is dressed down today.”
Pastor Harrison’s smooth voice fell over a room hushed in the spirit of reverence, priming all blanketed in the sound for the climactic portion of the service. “That’s what happens when you've got to prove a point to your kids. My son left home and thought he took all the swag. He must’ve forgotten who he got it from.” Like his junior, one well-timed joke shifted the energy in the room, bringing levity back to the occasion. He continued. “Tell your neighbor that one monkey don’t stop no show. Especially not one whose behind I used to change.”
Kelvin chuckled behind the keyboard and riffed a response via song, sliding his fingers across the keys to add to the joke as strangers and friends alike repeated the phrase amid laughter.
“He might get me for saying this, but there’s a special lady in his life now.” Pastor Harrison said as he scrolled through the tablet resting on the lectern in front of him. “I miss my boy, but I can’t stand in the way of the Word. We’re just glad he brought her on ‘round to the church house. Amen.”
Heat washed over Asia as curious eyeballs from all directions strained for a coveted look at Kelvin Harrison Jr.’s “good thing.” He flashed a smile in her direction that she returned before her brain could tell her to do otherwise as he slipped a few familiar notes from Jodeci’s most famous tune beneath the audience’s verbal swooning.
The elder Kelvin waved him away and shook his head. “We’re still working on time and place, family. Continue to pray for Pastor and Lady Harrison. Please!”
By early afternoon, with a pale skin growing dimmer by the minute and a chill washing over the city, the pressures of songs, sermons, and endless introductions to people dying to know who had wrangled New Hope’s most eligible bachelor were whispers in the wind. Respite came as warm bread pudding served on good porcelain and playful arguments around the den’s coffee table as Kelvin repaid Melody’s intrusion with back-to-back draw fours.
“You know you dirty for that,” she said as she picked up enough cards to seal her losing fate. “You're doing all this because I brought up the Thomas girl, huh? She was supposed to be your wife, but I’m wrong?”
Kelvin rearranged the cards in his hand and kissed his teeth. “That girl wasn’t supposed to be my nothin’.”
“Is Chelsea the one who gave me the evil eye during the second service?” Asia could still see the tall, brown-skinned woman with enough curves to make her do a double take frowning in her direction as Pastor Harrison introduced his impromptu comedy set to a new audience.
“Probably,” Melody answered. “She always looking at somebody like they stole money out of her purse.”
“That ain’t right. She’s a nice girl. Single’s ministry wouldn’t be what it is without her.”
An assortment of dissenting opinions rippled throughout the room, making Pastor Harrison chuckle as he sipped from his mug of warm tea.
Wanda looked up from her cellphone, and over her glasses to acknowledge her husband’s defense. “Maybe she’ll finally use it when meetings resume next year in January. Deacon is spoken for. Time for her to move on.”
Stunned silence fell over the room until Melody chimed in. “Well then. The First Lady has said the benediction. Let the church say amen.”
“Amen,” Pastor Harrison said, laughing.
Spoken for. The words rattled around Asia’s empty mind as she tried to restrain the smile threatening to slide across her face. Kelvin didn’t hide his elation. He wouldn’t for all the money in the world. Uno became a silly distraction he quickly abandoned to adorn Asia’s temple with loud smooches that filled her belly with butterflies she had no desire to contain.
“That’s my good thing!” Kelvin knew he was pushing his luck when he took his kisses to the corner of lips curled upward from girlish laughter, but waited until protest came to force him into asking for forgiveness rather than requesting permission.
Pastor Harrison watched on without interference. Melody rolled her eyes and used the distraction to slide a handful of Uno cards back into the deck. Wanda tried to hold her mule as she waited for her husband to step in and stop Kelvin’s tap dancing on dangerous territory. When Kelvin Sr. provided no help, she tossed a pillow across the room.
“That’s enough,” she said, earning schoolyard giggles in return. She tossed another pillow at her daughter as equal punishment and gestured at the dishes around the room. “Since everyone has so much energy, clean my den before the Lord and his angels begin the night shift.”
“The Lord doesn’t slumber, baby,” Kelvin Sr. laughed.
Wanda sucked her teeth as she stood to leave. “I didn’t say he did. I said they’re about to switch out angels for the night shift. Now come on up these stairs before you end up working with ‘em.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Stern words from the lady of the house and a collection of childish taunts roused the elder Kelvin into action. He bumped fists with his son as he passed. “That’s my good thing.”
Melody rolled her eyes and called behind her mother. “Mrs. Good Thing, you want us to mop too?”
“Sure do! Let Asia do it,” Wanda said, faint playfulness in her delivery making her husband smile in Asia and Kelvin’s direction. He winked before responding.
“What about the guest rule, sweetheart?”
Wanda’s cackle traveled through the hallway and filled the room as if she’d never left. “There are no guests in this house anymore. Mop my floors!”
This time, Asia let her grin break containment. Wide and contagious enough to spread to the others in the room, she smiled as if she’d won the winning lottery numbers on a platter. Every cell in her body tingled with excitement. Not a guest today, full-fledged member of the family tomorrow, she thought to herself as bodies ambled into action around her.
“Well, come on, Deaconess,” Melody said, her voice carrying the familiarity of family. She stood to her feet and gathered dishes in her immediate area. “Let me show you where we keep the brooms and whatnot around here. J.R., you load the dishwasher this time.”
“And what about you, Mel?”
She shrugged and smiled as she walked out of the room. “I’m on vacation, so I’ll be in the kitchen looking pretty for y’all.”
Kelvin regarded his sister with an annoyed sideways glare to the soundtrack of Asia’s laughter, tracking her movements until only two remained in the once lively den. They sat side by side in comfortable silence, smiling at nothing and everything at the same time before Kelvin leaned in to steal a gentle touch of his lips on hers. Their first kiss in the open.
Unashamed and unconcerned with repercussions, they shared love where words had no place, allowing restriction to melt away into freedom — into the building blocks of a dream inching toward realization.
“I can mop. Don’t worry about it. Mel needs something to do, anyway. She’s spoiled.” Soft eyes scanned Asia’s face, trying to etch the curves and shadows into his mind for memory’s sake.
Asia shook her head while tracing indiscernible shapes along Kelvin’s forearm. “That’s okay. I want to.”
Though Kelvin would sooner give up his right to speak than keep her from knowing the stress of labor, he nodded his understanding before setting off to search for what she needed to fulfill the desires of her heart.
She’d get to mop. The thought of explaining the significance of such an arbitrary task to her mother or Sabrina or how she’s experienced church and gospel for the first time in forever expanded the smile she hadn’t found the energy to stifle as Asia moved to stand.
Jovial humming and laughter in the next room sent excited tingles buzzing through Asia’s body as a reminder that she had responsibilities. There were stories to hear, memories to create, a life to build, and a floor to mop on the road to forever.
As she took a sweeping look over the room, catching glimpses of thick Bibles, Isley Brothers records, and family portraits that breathed life into a man she longed to know more day by day, she began piecing together the church boy that made up Kelvin Harrison Jr., the love of her life.
On The Horizon || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)
This is Part 4 of the Savor Series.
Rating: E for Erotic.
Warnings: NSFW, Fluff, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.
Word Count: 7k+
Summary: Time seemed to slip through their fingers, each day passing faster than the last. As Annie entered the final stretch of her pregnancy, she and Smoke made sure to savor every precious moment together. There were still things to prepare before their baby girl arrived, but with family and friends rallying around them, they felt more than ready. And as they awaited the birth of new life, they weren’t the only ones finding healing, hope, and thoughts of what the future might hold.
"Y’all sure you don’t need an extra daughter? I don’t wanna leave this place," Pearline joked through the screen, her grin stretching wide even an ocean apart.
Annie snickered, shaking her head at her friend’s dramatics as she watched Pearline and Sammie cuddled up on her living room couch back home. Smoke had surprised her with a babymoon trip — one last getaway before their baby girl arrived — and though she was over the moon about it, leaving their house unattended for a week hadn’t sat right with her. Especially not with how unpredictable things had been lately in the States.
So there they were — Pearline and Sammie, holding down the fort and living it up.
"Can we get the first one here before we start takin’ in strays?" Annie teased.
Sammie and Annie both burst out laughing as Pearline pulled a dramatic pout.
"Pay her no mind, Annie," Sammie said, shaking his head. "She’s just tryna stay for the snacks."
"Aye, you can’t blame me for enjoyin’ the endless banana pudding and that stacked pantry," Pearline shot back, tossing him a playful side-eye.
"Well, enjoy it. We appreciate y’all coming through last minute," Annie replied with a grateful smile.
"Anytime! How’s it over there? Looks gorgeous," Pearline said, squinting at the bright light behind Annie.
Annie tilted her phone to show the view — her toes buried in warm, damp sand as waves kissed her ankles before retreating. Puffy white clouds drifted lazily across a flawless blue sky, and the sun gleamed over the sparkling waters of Turks and Caicos like diamonds scattered on the surface. A splash caught her eye — Smoke’s body cutting through the water, his skin glistening under the sun as he swam with easy grace, clearly fascinated by the schools of fish darting around him.
"It’s paradise," Annie sighed. "Been sunny every day. We can’t stay outta the water. We try to wait ‘til it's closer to sunset though, ‘cause I can’t be out in this heat long thanks to your niece here." She angled the camera down to her round, seven-month belly, giving it a loving rub.
"Aw, lil’ munchkin," Pearline cooed. "Can’t wait to spoil her rotten."
Sammie nodded in agreement. "We’ll let you get back to relaxin’. We ‘bout to enjoy this big-ass TV and watch Black Panther for the hundredth time."
"Okay," Annie chuckled. "Have fun watchin’ the twins’ doppelganger, and I’ll talk to y’all later. Love y’all."
"Love you guys, too! Bring us back a souvenir," Pearline said, both she and Sammie waving before the call ended.
Annie slipped her phone into her beach bag and leaned back on her hands, letting her eyes roam over the endless horizon. The sound of waves soothed her nerves. The ocean always made her feel closer to her dreams, to her mother… to her daughter.
A sudden sound pulled her from her thoughts — soft, high-pitched giggles carried on the wind. Tiny footprints trailed along the shore, and she spotted a little girl, no older than two, toddling through the sand. A chunky brown beauty with a head full of thick curls, her laughter pure and free as she crouched down to pat at the waves.
"Mama!" the girl called out, holding up a white seashell. "Sheww!" she squealed, her joy infectious — and for a moment, Annie froze. Those big brown eyes staring back at her… were her own.
Everything around her blurred — the crash of waves, the warmth of the sun, all fading until there was only the little girl’s dimpled smile.
"Baby!"
"Annie!"
Annie blinked, the vision breaking as she turned toward Smoke walking up the beach, water still dripping from his chest.
"Where’d you go?" he asked, lowering himself beside her. "Been tryin’ to get your attention."
"Just… daydreamin’," she said softly, brushing sand from her legs. "How was your swi—" She stopped mid-sentence when her stomach growled, followed by a firm kick against her belly. Her face scrunched in discomfort.
Smoke chuckled and rubbed the spot gently. "Seems like both of you are hungry."
"I miss when her movements were just light flutters," Annie groaned, stretching slightly. "She needs to be on somebody’s soccer field already. It’s bad enough she makes me pee every five minutes."
Smoke laughed under his breath and rubbed where their daughter’s foot pressed. "She just wants Papa’s kisses," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her belly. After a few gentle pecks and nudges, the baby shifted, settling again.
"All better?" he asked.
Annie sighed in relief. "Thank you."
He stood and offered her his hand, brushing stray grains of sand from her shoulder. "C’mon, beautiful. Time to order room service."
She smiled, taking his hand as they walked up the shore together to their villa.
Back in their suite, the air carried a hint of salt and sunscreen as the balcony doors swayed slightly, letting in the sound of waves and a cool island breeze. Annie sank into the plush cream loveseat, stretching her legs with a satisfied sigh while Smoke flipped through the room service menu.
"You want the stewed beef or the curry chicken tonight?" he asked, glancing over at her.
"Both," she said instantly, rubbing her belly with a lazy grin.
Smoke chuckled, shaking his head. "Ain’t no way you gon’ eat all that."
"Is that a challenge?" Annie teased. "Your daughter’s been eatin’ me outta house and home, and we not even home."
"She got that from me," he said with a smirk, setting the menu aside to make the call. "But fine, I’ll get both. Don’t say I ain’t warn you when you start talkin’ ‘bout how full you are later."
While he ordered, Annie eased back, watching him move about the suite—bare chest still glistening from his swim, towel and trunks slung low on his hips, his deep voice rumbling through the phone. She loved how at ease he was, how even simple things looked good on him.
Once he hung up, he caught her staring. "What you smilin’ at, woman?"
"You," she admitted. "You look good, that’s all."
He grinned and crossed the room, sitting beside her. "I look good?"
"Mhm," she hummed, running her fingers over his damp waves. "I’m just lucky."
Smoke pressed his forehead to hers. "We both are." He brushed his lips against her nose, soft and unhurried. "Ain’t nothin’ in this world I ever wanted more than what we got right now."
Her heart melted. She cupped his cheek and whispered, "You always know how to say the right thing."
He smiled against her palm. "I mean it, Annie. You, me, and this little girl... that’s my world."
A gentle knock interrupted them. Their food had arrived. Smoke stood to grab it, rolling the cart inside and lifting the lids like he was unveiling treasure.
"Alright, Chef Annie, you gotta judge if it lives up to your standards," he said, sitting beside her.
She laughed as he fixed her a plate, piling on lobster, rice and peas, and plantains. "You tryna get promoted to sous chef?"
"I’m tryna keep my wife and baby girl fed, so yeah, I’ll take the title."
They dug into their food, enjoying the rich island flavors. Smoke reached over to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth, his thumb lingering there before he kissed her softly.
"You always got somethin’ on your mouth," he murmured.
"That’s ‘cause you always distractin’ me," she teased, nudging his arm.
"Good. I like keepin’ you distracted," he said, voice low, paired with a mischievous smirk.
Annie laughed, shaking her head. "See, that look right there is what has me in this predicament now. We only got two more months ‘til she’s here. Then it’s no sleep and diapers for days."
"Yeah," he said, looking down at her belly with a fond smile. "Which means we gotta cease the moment," he replied with a teasing wink causing her to clench her thighs and focus on her food. He still managed to make her shy under his gaze.
Dinner was quiet except for the sound of the waves and the soft clinking of silverware. Between the two of them, the spread looked like enough for a small family, and at first Annie swore she could handle it. But after a few more bites, Smoke was proven right. She leaned back in her seat, fork dropping onto her plate in surrender.
He tried not to laugh but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Told you.”
Annie groaned dramatically. “Damn it! It’s so good, too. One minute I feel like I can eat a whole cake, the next I can barely finish a slice.” She pushed her plate away with a pout, only for Smoke to steal her last sweet plantain without hesitation.
She gasped. “Really?”
He shrugged, chewing with a grin. “That’s ‘cause she’s takin’ up more space,” he said, tapping her belly lightly. “You’ll be back to enjoyin’ your meals in no time.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth curved upward when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re lucky you’re fine,” she muttered.
“Always knew that was my advantage,” he teased, standing up and collecting their plates. He stacked them neatly onto the tray, wiping his hands with a napkin. “How ‘bout you run us a hot shower, and I’ll give you a foot massage after?”
That suggestion got her attention immediately. Her eyes lit up, and she was already halfway to her feet. “Don't have to tell me twice,” she said, moving toward the bathroom with a pep in her step.
Smoke chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he wheeled the cart toward the door.
The bathroom was her favorite part of the villa besides their private pool and patio. Instantly she was greeted with the scent of warm cinnamon, cedar, and vanilla. It was picture perfect—warm and elegant, every surface glowing softly under the golden recess lighting. Potted plants complimented and accented the room nicely. The space was wrapped in creamy marble, carved wave designs, and honey-toned wood. It was a blend of luxury and comfort.
She passed the sleek white soaking tub and double sinks as she peeled out of her coverup and bathing suit. The shower stretched wide in front of her. She reached inside and turned the knob to the perfect temperature, causing steam to rise and fog the glass.
A calm exhale escaped her as she stood under the rainfall fixture overhead, eyes closed and body relaxed. The water poured over her scalp, through her braids, and down her body.
This is exactly what the doctor ordered.
Steam curled in lazy swirls around her, clinging to the walls as the sound of the shower filled the air. Annie’s skin glistened under the warm cascade, her head bowed slightly as the water flowed down her shoulders.
Suddenly, her braids were lifted gently from her back, and soft lips brushed against the curve of her neck. She let out a quiet hum, her body relaxing instantly as she leaned back into Smoke’s solid frame.
His kisses trailed upward, slow and tender, until his lips hovered just beside her ear. “Did I tell you you’re beautiful today?” he asked softly, his breath warm against her skin.
She smiled, eyes fluttering open as the corners of her lips curved. “You did,” she murmured, “but I never get tired of hearing it.”
Smoke’s low chuckle vibrated against her back. “And I never get tired of saying it.”
“Mm, you say that now,” she teased, tilting her head toward him with a grin. “Wait ‘til she gets here and we both runnin’ on two hours of sleep.”
He reached forward, gently cupping her chin and guiding her to look at him. His brown eyes were deep and sincere beneath the mist. “I’ll mean it even more then,” he said. “No matter what life throws at us, your beauty’s gonna shine through—inside and out.”
Her gaze searched his, her heart full of affection. She could feel the truth of his words settle deep in her chest and bones.
“I don’t know whether to cry or jump your bones,” she whispered, smiling up at him. “You have me stumped, Mr. Moore.”
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as he gripped her waist and turned her to face him fully. “I’d say the latter,” he murmured, “but it definitely won’t be happenin’ in here. Our shower sex days are on pause for now.”
Annie laughed, resting her hands against his chest. He wasn’t wrong—her balance wasn’t exactly in top form these days.
“But,” he added, his tone dropping into that teasing, low register that made her melt, “I promise to give you a happy ending with your foot massage.” His plush lips ghosted over hers, close enough for her to taste his breath.
“Really?” she whispered back, her voice a filled with mischief and want.
He answered her with a kiss—slow, deep, and lingering. Their tongues met in a familiar rhythm, breaths mingling, soft moans swallowed between them. The kind of kiss that said everything words couldn’t. A soft grunt escaped Smoke’s chest before he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. “Let’s wash up before I go against my better judgment,” he murmured, his length already stirring against her thigh.
Annie giggled and reached for their washcloths with a knowing smile.
They lathered in the honey and almond soap Annie had packed, the scent filling the steamy air with warmth and sweetness. The rich foam glided over their skin, each stroke tender and intentional. Eyes traced skin, scars, and the familiar lines of each other’s bodies—each one loved, each one admired, and each one respected.
“Bend down,” Annie instructed softly, pouring shampoo into her palms.
Smoke obeyed without question, dipping his head as she worked her fingers into his hair. A deep groan rumbled from his chest when her French tips grazed his scalp, easing away the salt and sand. Annie smiled faintly at the sound, taking her time to pamper him. This was how they spoke love—through quiet gestures, through care. It was loud without needing words.
Once the conditioner was rinsed clean, Smoke made sure the suds were gone from both of them before turning off the shower. He grabbed two thick resort towels and gently wrapped one around Annie first, drying her off before tending to himself. The faint cocoa butter scent of their lotion soon mingled with the steam as they moisturized, moving in easy rhythm with each other.
Smoke then took her hand and guided her to the king bed, fluffing and stacking the pillows to support her back. Annie sank into them with a soft sigh.
“Good?” he asked, settling near her feet—one leg bent on the bed, the other hanging off the side.
“Perfect,” she replied, giving him a sleepy, appreciative smile. He winked before reaching for her feet.
His hands kneaded the arch of her left foot first, thumbs pressing into her skin until she couldn’t hold back a soft moan. Her foot twitched as her body melted deeper into the pillows.
“You really are a gem,” she whispered, eyes closed, voice barely above a hum.
Smoke chuckled deeply. “As are you. If someone told me this would be my life a couple years ago, I’d have called them scammer of the year.”
Annie hummed in agreement, her heart warm.
She never stopped praying over the twins, asking for their protection no matter where life took them. Bringing them back together, though—that had always felt impossible. In his absence, other men had tried to fill the space he left behind, but none ever fit. Truthfully, she didn't want them to. They weren’t the missing piece—just placeholders in a puzzle that only he completed.
“It still feels surreal sometimes, like I have to pinch myself. I know the offerings and prayers I’ve made, but to see it all manifest like this… it’s just bafflin’.”
Smoke nodded, switching to her right foot. His brows furrowed slightly as he thought. He could’ve been gone, locked up or buried next to his brother. A degree, a home, a family, Annie… none of it had seemed possible back then. And yet, here she was—his blessing all along.
“I don’t really understand it myself,” he admitted quietly. “But I’m grateful.”
Her eyes fluttered open to meet his. “Me too,” she said with a small grin. “Even if you did make me as big as a house.”
He snorted softly. “Baby, you are far from that. These last few months’ll fly by.”
“I know,” she said, rubbing her belly. “I’m just anxious to meet her—and to walk without feelin’ like I’ll topple over. Oh, and gettin’ back in the restaurant.”
Smoke smirked, rubbing her leg affectionately. “I know you miss chef’n it up, but it’ll all be worth it once she’s big enough to see her mama in action.”
“Yeah,” Annie teased, eyes glinting, “she can take over your spot as taste tester.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, parting her legs so he could settle between them.
She nodded, giggling softly.
“We’ll see about that.”
He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. “You know what I’m in the mood to taste right now, though?” he murmured against her lips.
Her breath hitched. “What’s that?” she whispered, her thighs tightening around him.
His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, the towel parting just enough as his thumb traced lazy circles on her soft skin. Their eyes locked—dark, hungry, wanting. Slowly, his thumb pressed over her wet slit.
“This pretty pussy,” he rasped before claiming her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.
Annie moaned into his mouth, her hands cupping his face as they twisted and turned, kissing each other like the world had stopped spinning. Her bottom lip was caught between his teeth before Smoke finally pulled away.
“Close your eyes, beautiful,” Smoke murmured, his voice low and commanding as he rose from the bed.
Annie looked up at him skeptically, her brows knitting in amusement. “What are you up to?” she asked, suspicion laced with a teasing smile.
“Just trust me.”
She squinted at him, trying to read the mischief in his tone before finally obeying. Darkness met her behind her lids, but her other senses sharpened. The soft hum of the air conditioning, the faint rustle of fabric, the metallic sound of a zipper—each noise heightened her curiosity. Then, the mattress dipped between her legs again, announcing his return.
A tug at her towel, and the plush fabric slipped away. Cool air kissed her warm, bare skin, pebbling her nipples instantly.
“I want you to keep your eyes closed and just feel,” he murmured, his breath brushing over her chest a second before his hand cupped her left breast. The roughness of his palm contrasted perfectly with the softness of her skin. Then—warm, wet pressure. His tongue flicked against her dark brown nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her.
She gasped and arched her back, silently begging for more.
“Can you do that for me?” His voice vibrated against her skin, deep and full of heat.
“Yes, Daddy,” she breathed out, her voice trembling.
“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbled approvingly before his lips wrapped around her right nipple, sucking with slow, deliberate care.
Every swirl of his tongue, every pull of his lips made her chest rise in shallow, needy breaths. Pregnancy had made her body hypersensitive, every touch from him amplified, and Smoke reveled in it.
She hissed softly when his teeth grazed her peak, the slight tickle only deepening her pleasure. His free hand kneaded her other breast tenderly before switching, ensuring both received equal attention from his mouth. Annie couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, her fingers brushing over his hair as she held him there.
When his lips finally left her chest, he trailed down, leaving a wet path of kisses. He paused to place one on the top of her belly, a gesture that made her heart swell even as her body burned for more.
Then, her breath caught when he hoisted her thighs into his arms, tugging her down the bed until her soaked core was at his mercy. Her thighs quivered as he covered them with lazy kisses, his mustache and goatee brushing against her skin with every graze—each tickle sending a delicious shiver through her.
And then—something cold. A cool, metallic touch glided along the inside of her thigh. She flinched, her body jerking slightly.
“Smoke…” she whispered, half a question, half anticipation.
He answered with a teasing kiss to her bare pussy lips, his hot breath contrasting the chill of the object. Annie whined, lifting her hips toward him instinctively.
“You’re such a tease,” she whispered, her voice breathy.
“And you like it,” he countered confidently, the smirk audible in his tone. Then the cold object moved again—this time directly across her clit.
Annie moaned, her thighs tensing as pleasure shot through her. The metal traced along her slit next, slow and deliberate, then disappeared.
“Suck,” he demanded.
Her lips parted automatically, and he pressed the cool object into her mouth. The shape, the feel—it clicked instantly. Metal casing, smooth, like a lipstick tube. Her tongue wrapped around it teasingly, licking the faint taste of her own arousal from it. Smoke’s dark eyes watched her intently, his jaw tight with restraint.
When he pulled it away, a faint hum filled the room.
Then—contact. The vibrator, now warm from her mouth, pressed against her clit.
“Oooh, fuck!” she cried out, the sound raw and needy as waves of pleasure rippled through her. Her hips rolled instinctively, chasing the sensation.
Smoke’s hand steadied her hip, guiding her movement as he rubbed the toy gently up and down her soaked slit. The slick sounds of her arousal filled the room, each one a symphony to his ears.
Her pussy fluttered around nothing, throbbing, leaking, begging for more—and Smoke, with that dark, satisfied grin curving his lips, gave her exactly what she needed.
His warm breath fanned over her slick folds as he whispered, voice low and rough, “Always so wet for me.” His mouth replaced the vibrator briefly, lips parting to suck and lap at her juices with slow, deliberate strokes. He savored her like his favorite dessert, tracing his tongue up her slit before wrapping his mouth around her clit.
“Oooh, you eat this pussy so good,” she moaned, her hips arching as his lips drew tender suction around her.
“Can’t help it,” he rasped, dragging his tongue across her again. “You just taste too fuckin’ good.”
The vibrator returned against her throbbing bundle of nerves as his tongue plunged deep into her soaked heat.
Annie buried her face in the pillow, her moan muffled and desperate. The combination of the pulsing toy and his tongue sent her spiraling. Smoke never needed any help to make her unravel, but she wasn’t about to complain about the extra spice he brought to keep her on her toes.
Her sweetness coated his lips and beard as he devoured her greedily, lost in the taste of her. She could see it in her mind—his head buried between her thighs, completely consumed by her. She thought about opening her eyes, but the pleasure wouldn’t let her.
He slurped her up hungrily, then slid the toy down to her entrance. A quick click changed the vibration pattern before he began easing it in and out, each movement teasing her.
Buzz… Buzz… BUZZZZZZ!
“That feels so goood,” she whimpered, thighs trembling as they began to close around his head.
“Uh-uh, open up, baby doll,” he ordered, prying her thighs apart again. The command in his voice made her shiver. He kept the vibrator thrusting steadily as his mouth returned to her clit, sucking and humming against it.
“Shit!” Annie gasped, her back arching as the intense vibrations collided with the rhythm of his tongue, sending her crashing over the edge in a blinding climax.
Smoke groaned low in satisfaction, still feasting on her like a man starved.
Her body trembled violently, every nerve on fire as she tried to crawl back, overwhelmed by the overstimulation. “I can’t, Baby. I can’t,” she whimpered, voice shaking.
Smoke’s deep chuckle rumbled against her skin as he finally withdrew the toy, his touch soft and possessive while he massaged her trembling thighs. “You tappin’ out on me, Love?”
Annie cracked her eyes open, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. “Never,” she panted, defiance and desire melting together.
“Good,” he murmured, lifting the glistening vibrator to her lips with a dark, knowing smirk.
She sucked her release from it, eyes locked on his—both of them still hungry for more.
Smoke bit his bottom lip, standing beside her, and tugged at the towel around his waist, letting it drop to the floor. Annie’s gaze trailed down the length of his toned body—broad chest, sculpted abs, and then the thick, heavy length between his legs. The sight alone stole her breath. With a subtle flex of his hips, his dick bobbed teasingly, and Annie was utterly mesmerized.
The warm light painted his skin in gold, glinting off the slick head beaded with precum. Without needing a word, she popped the vibrator from her mouth, setting it aside. Instinct took over—her body drawn to his like a magnet, as if he’d cast a spell only she could feel.
She slid to the edge of the bed, Smoke stepping closer until he stood between her parted thighs. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue across the slit of his swollen tip. The low hiss that tore from his chest made her pussy clench, her pulse skipping at the sound. That was the music she wanted to hear.
Her hands braced against his firm thighs as her lips closed around him, savoring the salty-sweet taste of his precum. Smoke gathered her braids in one hand, winding them around his fingers, guiding her pace. She glanced up at him just as the head of his dick brushed the back of her throat.
“Fuck,” he groaned, voice gravelly as his dark, lust-heavy eyes locked on hers.
His moans deepened, rumbling from his chest as she found her rhythm—sucking him faster, tongue tracing the thick vein pulsing beneath his shaft. Every sound he made sent heat rushing between her legs. When his head fell back, a guttural groan leaving his lips, she moaned around him, lost in the act and the power of his pleasure.
Then, his grip tightened gently in her braids, tugging her back just enough for his length to slip free with a wet pop. She looked up at him, lips shiny, eyes smoldering with curiosity and mischief.
“That mouth is dangerous,” he said between a chuckle, breath unsteady. “Lay on your side, baby.”
She obeyed, curling into a comfortable, fetal-like position. The mattress cradled her body perfectly, her thighs slick and pressed together as arousal coated her skin. Smoke lifted her outer leg carefully, sliding two pillows beneath her knee for support.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly, a tender smile tugging at her lips.
He brushed a thumb across her thigh and murmured, “Always gotta take care of you.”
The mattress dipped beside her as Smoke lay down, his body molding perfectly against hers. Heat radiated between them, his chest pressed to her back, his breath steady and heavy against her ear. His hand slid down to her ass, rubbing the soft curve before giving it a teasing smack that made her gasp. Annie moaned low and sweet, arching instinctively to press herself closer, her ass meeting the thick weight of his dick resting against her.
A deep, satisfied sound rumbled from his chest as he kissed along the column of her neck. His tongue drew a slow, wet line upward before he sucked gently at her skin, sending a shiver racing down her spine. “Tell me you want this dick,” he growled softly against her throat, the tip of his length sliding between her slick folds. The sound of it—thick, wet, hungry—filled the air.
“Mmm… fuck me, Elijah,” she moaned, her voice trembling with need.
And fuck her he would.
Annie gasped as he pushed inside her, slow and deliberate. The stretch was divine—her body opening for him, clenching around every inch. He teased her with shallow thrusts, his tip gliding inside before retreating again. It was maddening, the kind of pleasure that made her ache for more.
“Uunh, Daddy…” she whined, gripping her pillow with one hand while the other reached back to clutch at his thigh. Her head tilted back, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut. Smoke watched her, mesmerized by every expression that crossed her face. He hovered slightly, hand firm on her hip, guiding her rhythm as she rolled against him, lost in the sensation.
“That feel good, baby?” he grunted, his voice low and rough. “You want Daddy deeper?”
Annie nodded feverishly, her voice breaking on a moan. “Deeper…”
Her plea was met instantly. His hips snapped forward, burying himself inside her. A sharp cry escaped her lips, followed by a long, trembling moan. He bent forward, his lips brushing her cheek before capturing her mouth in a slow, heated kiss. They moved together—his deep, steady thrusts and her breathless whimpers blending together.
Annie gasped into his mouth before breaking the kiss. “Uuuhh… I love you so much,” she moaned, voice trembling with emotion.
Smoke’s chest vibrated with a deep groan. “Ooh, I love you too,” he breathed, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, thumb circling her nipple as he thrust harder. The sound of their bodies—wet, heavy, relentless—echoed through the room. Every slick slap, every breath, was proof of their connection.
A sound teetering between a gasp and a sob fell from Annie’s lips as Smoke slowed to a deep, sensual grind. Every roll of his hips made her feel him—every thick inch dragging perfectly against her walls. Her breath hitched, her body trembling as she reached back to grip his thigh again. His pace shifted from slow and teasing to deep, deliberate thrusts that made her toes curl.
“Fuck, this pussy was made for me. Mmm…” Smoke growled, his voice rough and reverent. He punctuated his words with a smack to her ass, watching the flesh jiggle before his hand returned to rub soothing circles over it.
Annie moaned helplessly, body arching into him. The tension between them built fast, thick and electric. Each stroke pushing them closer to that breaking point. She could feel it pulsing deep inside her, and from the gritted sound of his breath, so could he. His dick throbbed, heavy and hot, her slick walls milking him with each grind. Both of their faces were drawn tight with pleasure—brows furrowed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded in bliss.
“I feel it, Baby,” Smoke rasped against her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “Cum on your dick.”
She whimpered, fighting the wave even as it rose higher. When fingertips met her clit from behind, rubbing tight, frantic circles, her resolve shattered.
Her body locked, then quivered violently as the orgasm ripped through her. “Ohhh, Elijah!” she cried out, her walls fluttering and clenching around him. Smoke groaned deep in his chest, the sound raw and guttural, as her climax triggered his own. With a few final thrusts and a low, broken grunt, he released inside her, his warmth flooding her completely.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing hard, his moans muffled against her damp skin. The world seemed to slow as his hips stilled and they lay there tangled—hearts racing, breaths mingling, skin slick and warm.
Smoke’s hand gently brushed up and down her stomach in lazy, soothing strokes, grounding her back from the high. Annie sighed softly, her body melting into the sheets.
As sleep pulled her under, the last thing she felt was the press of his lips against hers.
The flick of a match sparked fire, igniting a soft glow that danced across the room. One white candle after another came alive, their flames steady and warm before she gently blew out the match. Another flick — this one to light incense and sage, sending curls of smoke that carried peace and clarity through the air.
Crystals shimmered beneath the glow atop a blue and gold embroidered cloth — clear quartz, amethyst, selenite, lepidolite, and black tourmaline — each one serving its sacred purpose.
Potted pampas grass, a lush monstera, and the Chinese elm bonsai Grace had gifted her added life to the walnut altar. Framed photos of her late mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother lined the navy-blue walls — women who had shaped her, who she honored in spirit.
Annie clasped her hands and bowed her head in prayer.
“Soil of my soil, bone of my bone, blood of my blood. I bless you. Asé,” she murmured, voice soft but sure.
Each offering she placed was chosen with love — boiled peanuts and a sunflower beneath her great-grandmother’s picture; a handful of coffee beans and a sparkling silver brooch for her grandmother; a small bunch of honeysuckle and a miniature bottle of whiskey for her mother. Tokens of joy from lives well-lived.
Then came the baby bottle filled with milk and a seashell from the shores of Turks and Caicos. Her fingertips lingered on them, her other hand instinctively rubbing the curve of her eight-month belly.
After her prayer and meditation, she pressed her fingers to each photo, kissing them softly before blowing out the candles and stilling the incense. Calm settled deep in her bones — the kind that grounded her for the day ahead.
Her careful steps carried her up the basement stairs. Morning sunlight spilled across the main floor, greeting her through wide windows. When she opened the painted blue door, crisp October air met her.
Smoke sat on the porch in gray sweats and a black hoodie, leaned back and comfortable, legs parted — doing what earned him his nickname.
“Good mornin', my love,” she greeted, a soft smile curling her lips.
He blew his cigar smoke away quickly. “Go on back inside, woman. Don’t need this around you or baby girl,” he said, trying to shoo her off.
Annie pouted, batting her doll-like eyes. “But I need my morning kiss,” she teased.
He sighed in mock defeat, standing as he fanned the air. Wrapping her in his arms, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. “Good mornin',” he murmured, brushing the tip of her nose. “How are my favorite girls doing?” His hand rested protectively on her round belly.
“We’re good. The guys are on their wa—” she started, but her words trailed off when a white SUV pulled up.
“Shit,” Smoke muttered under his breath as her eyes lit up at his failed surprise.
“Well, look who the cat dragged outta the Delta and into the big leagues!” came a familiar voice.
“Bo! Grace!” Annie gasped, grinning as the couple walked toward them.
She could spot that couple a mile away if her life depended on it. Bo and Grace had a presence that always stood out, easygoing yet magnetic. Though Chinese by heritage, growing up in the Mississippi Delta had woven Black culture deep into their lives, and in turn, they shared their own with love and pride. Together, they brought balance and laughter, their energy completed the group.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Smoke admitted as Bo clapped him on the back with a laugh.
Annie hugged Grace tightly. “Color me surprised! It’s so good to see y’all.”
“You too,” Bo and Grace said warmly.
“We heard there’s a nursery that needs finishing,” Grace smiled before hugging Smoke, while Bo switched to Annie.
“Uncle Bo at your service,” he announced with a playful bow that made her giggle.
“You’re more than welcome to help. The more the merrier. Your friend here won’t let me see it until it’s done,” Annie teased, shooting Smoke a side-eye.
“I just wanna lighten your load, that’s all. You’re gonna love it — both of you,” he said with a confident grin.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s get to work,” Bo declared, patting Smoke’s back.
They all headed inside. Smoke gave a brief tour before he and Bo went upstairs to the nursery. Annie and Grace settled into the living room, laughter floating between them — until the doorbell rang.
“That must be the rest of the gang,” Annie said, exhaling before trying to rise.
“Uh-uh, you stay put. I got it,” Grace said, hurrying to answer.
Moments later, joyous greetings echoed through the house as Stack, Mary, Pearline, and Sammie stepped in, thrilled to see the Chows back in town. The men made their rounds to greet Annie before heading upstairs to lend their strength — laughter and hammering soon filling the home while the ladies chatted.
“How’s lil’ Lisa?” Mary asked Grace as the group sipped tea and coffee, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the cozy living room.
“Oh, she’s good,” Grace said with a sigh. “Bein’ a grumpy teen, but she’s a good girl. Too smart to stay still, that one.” She shook her head, smiling.
“I wish she could’ve come,” Annie said.
“Yeah, maybe y’all can come back for Thanksgiving,” Pearline chimed in.
Grace nodded. “I’ll run it by Bo. I’m sure Lisa would love a trip away.”
“Well, y’all are more than welcome to stay here,” Annie said warmly. “There’s more than enough room. Plus, you’ll get to meet this lil’ one.” She smiled down at her belly.
Grace grinned. “Now Bo has no choice but to say yes. Lisa’d be thrilled to babysit and you know she loves your cookin’.”
Annie laughed softly. “Speakin’ of, mind helpin’ me up so I can start on brunch?” she asked, holding out her hands.
“Brunch?” Pearline echoed, exchanging looks with Mary as they helped her up. “Girl, you should be restin’. We can order somethin’ or go pick it up.”
Annie sucked her teeth and waved off their concern. “No, no. I won’t hear it. This is the only fun I get these days,” she said, waddling toward the kitchen with the ladies in tow. “Plus, I bought enough catfish to feed an army, so y’all gon’ get it whether you like it or not.”
The women burst into laughter at her stubbornness.
“Well, at least let us help,” Grace offered, rolling up her sleeves.
“That I won’t refuse,” Annie said, slipping into command mode. “Gracey, you’re on bacon and grits duty. Line Bean, hashbrowns and pancakes. And my Mary…” She paused, glancing at Mary sitting prettily at the island. “You can sit there lookin’ cute.”
“Oh, come on, Annie! I can do a lil’ somethin’,” Mary huffed, feigning offense.
“Uh-uh. Last time I let you in my kitchen, you burnt my biscuits,” Annie said, narrowing her eyes.
“And the pie,” Pearline muttered with a snicker.
Laughter erupted again as Mary crossed her arms with a playful scowl. “Fine, suit yourselves.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Annie teased. “You can be the taste tester.”
“I won’t argue with that,” Mary replied with a grin.
The kitchen soon came alive with chatter and motion. The women moved in harmony—flipping, stirring, frying. Upstairs, the muffled sounds of the men working on the nursery thudded through the ceiling, blending with the sizzling bacon and the rhythmic bubbling of grits. The house smelled like home—warm, savory, and full of love.
Then, heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, breaking the rhythm.
“Baby?” Mary called out, but before she could finished the back door slammed shut.
The ladies exchanged confused glances. Mary sighed and stood. “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading toward the back porch.
Annie watched her go, frowning slightly before turning back to the stove.
Moments later, Mary reentered—her expression tense, voice low. “Annie,” she called softly.
Annie glanced over to her. “Keep an eye on that fish,” she said, passing the wire strainer to Grace.
Annie wiped her hands on a rag and walked over to Mary. “What’s goin’ on?”
Mary hesitated, glancing toward the door. “I think it’s best comin’ from him,” she said quietly. “I feel like I barely scratched the surface, really.”
Annie gave Mary’s shoulder a soft pat before stepping out onto the back porch. The cool fall air brushed against her skin as she spotted Stack standing near the railing, staring out over the yard. His usually confident posture seemed small, shoulders heavy under an invisible weight. When she approached, he sniffed, quickly swiping at his damp eyes before running a rough hand over his face.
“I think I done got soft,” he said with a low, shaky chuckle, but Annie could hear the strain beneath it.
“Stop that,” she said gently, resting her hand on his back. “What’s wrong?”
He opened his mouth, but the words tangled in his throat. “I uh—fuck,” he muttered, lowering his head as a tear splashed onto his shoes.
Annie didn’t rush him. She just rubbed slow, steady circles on his back, waiting.
“I... tried to stay strong while you and bro went through your loss,” he finally began, voice cracking. “He’s taken care of me my whole life. Least I could do was be there for him through his grief. But I... I never realized how much losin’ baby girl hurt me too.”
Annie’s throat tightened, her own eyes glossing over. “The nursery brought this on?” she asked softly.
Stack nodded, jaw tense. “Yeah. I’m happy, of course. I get a second chance to be an uncle, but in the back of my mind it’s like... I know what Smoke felt. And I never want y’all to go through that again.” His eyes lifted to hers. “Y’all my only hope for a new addition in the fam, besides Sammie and Pearline.”
Annie tilted her head thoughtfully. “You mean to tell me you don’t want a lil’ Stack or Mary runnin’ around here?”
He gave a faint smile, but it was weighed down by sadness. “I don’t think I’m cut out for it,” he murmured.
“Why not? You love kids. Hell, you a big kid yourself,” Annie teased lightly, trying to pull a real smile out of him.
But Stack just sighed, tears sliding freely now. “I love Mary too much to curse her the way I cursed our mama.”
Annie’s heart ached. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping tight around his broad frame. He leaned into her, and for a moment, they simply breathed and cried together. Sniffles filled the quiet space before they straightened, both wiping their eyes.
“Elias,” she said, her voice firm but kind, “you are not to blame for your mama’s passing. You and Smoke were her miracles. If she were here now, she’d be tellin’ you how proud she is of you. Don’t let your father’s words control your life. You can break that cycle—you already have.”
“I’m just scared,” he whispered, eyes glistening.
Annie looked at him—the strong man everyone saw, but behind it, she saw the little boy still haunted by the past. “That’s okay,” she said softly. “We all get scared sometimes. But don’t let it paralyze you. You ain’t your father, Elias. You got too much love in you for that. And Stack…” She lifted his chin gently, guiding his hand to her belly. “Your niece never really left.”
He blinked, confusion flickering in his expression. “What you mean?”
“You’ll understand when she’s here,” Annie said, her southern twang wrapping around her words sweetly. “Just know, what was will be; that’s all there is to it.”
As if on cue, a soft kick fluttered against his palm. They both smiled, warmth cutting through the heaviness.
“See?” Annie grinned. “You already her favorite uncle.”
Stack chuckled, brushing the last of his tears away. “Better be,” he said, rubbing her belly tenderly. “Thank you, Annie.”
“Anytime,” she replied just as the back door opened.
“Food’s ready,” Smoke announced from the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. “I don’t know 'bout y’all, but that nursery had me work up an appetite. We can barely keep Bo from touchin’ the catfish.”
They both chuckled and followed him inside. As they entered, Smoke glanced at his brother, a flicker of concern in his eyes. He squeezed Stack’s shoulder. “You good?”
“All good,” Stack said with a pat to his back.
Stack went to sit beside Mary at the island while Smoke slipped his arms around Annie’s waist.
“That nigga be lyin’,” Smoke murmured near her ear. “He really good?”
Annie smiled knowingly. “He just needed a lil’ TLC, is all.”
Smoke searched her eyes for confirmation, then nodded and kissed her forehead before they joined the others.
The table was covered in a feast—fluffy biscuits, golden catfish, crispy bacon, sweet pancakes, golden hashbrowns, and steaming grits. Annie blessed the food, and soon laughter and satisfied hums filled the air. As she looked across the table at Smoke, he grinned, sharing her quiet joy.
And just like that, everything was right in their world.
Happy Halloween, y’all! 🎃🧛🏾🩸 Thank you so much for your patience! Real life was lifing hard, and I hit a bit of writer’s block along the way. On the bright side it ended up birthing an extra chapter. Originally, this was supposed to be “What Was Promised,” but that one will be the next installment. I hope this chapter was worth the wait and that you enjoyed it. Please let me know your thoughts below!
Sadly, I didn’t get my Stack fic out in time for Kinktober, but it’s still coming very soon. I hope this holds y’all over until then.
If you’d like to join the taglist, feel free to comment down below! I realized I to add a few people, but it should be up to date now for all future Sinners content. Thanks for reading, loves! xoxo
Summary: Asia teaches Kelvin a new lesson in the bedroom.
Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC
Warnings: Smut (18+ Content)
Word Count: 5,930
Asia’s heartbeat was the first thing to wake Kelvin late Saturday morning.
The steady thud of her body showing proof of life transferred to his bare chest from hers as she lay pressed against him, compelled his eyelids to flutter open to look around an almost pitch-black room. The sliver of sunlight poking through the cracks between heavy panels of automatic blackout curtains deployed at the behest of his favorite visitor illuminated the mess of dirty linens and miscellaneous clothing strewn across the floor as if a quiet tornado had visited them during slumber.
Vivid images of the way they turned date night into something only grown folks would understand played in Kelvin’s mental theater, heating every inch of his skin as blood moved elsewhere to awaken his muscles. The heels at the foot of the bed, still standing as a monument to what they did last night, produced a groggy smile once Kelvin saw them during his slow scan of their destruction. He could still taste hints of Asia’s essence when his tongue swiped across his bottom lip out of habit. A raised passion mark under his fingertips as he grazed her hip beneath fresh sheets brought back phantom vibrations and an involuntary clench in his belly.
What they did was primal. Beautiful. Downright shameful if his mama were ever to find out how he behaved behind closed doors with the sweet girl he’d been championing over the phone for the better part of three years. Especially if she knew he wanted more of the filth he’d experienced at that sweet girl’s hands.
“Stop moving so much.” Asia’s soft, hoarse voice startled Kelvin out of his reverie, bypassing his ears and heading straight for the part of him that had grown a Pavlovian response to the sound. Lips eager for a morning salutation kissed their way up a neck covered in evidence of a long night, past the scruff on his jaw, and to Kelvin’s mouth to seal her hello. When no response came, she greeted herself on his behalf. “Good morning to you, too.”
She’d rendered her lover speechless in the early moments of their tryst and he had yet to recover. Mission accomplished. Asia searched the nightstand on her side of the bed for the remote to the curtains as Kelvin tried and failed to force a response through a throat peeled raw from a vocal performance he hadn’t put on in ages.
Together, they watched the heavy grey cloud-covered summer sun leak its rays into the room until the shades lifted halfway. Asia commented on the possibility of rain, then released a contented sigh before turning back onto her side to address Kelvin and his repeated attempts to avoid eye contact. She watched him wrestle with pleasure and embarrassment before cozying up to his side.
“You don’t have to hide from me. I was there too, you know?” Asia’s sing-song lilt and gentle kiss on his shoulder broke the last threads of Kelvin’s trance.
He shifted to face Asia before allowing his smile to match hers. A laugh broke his silence. “I don’t even want to look at myself, girl.” Long, graceful fingers resumed an uncoordinated dance across the smooth expanse of brown skin on Asia’s thigh, stopping to trace the passion mark on her hip again. Kelvin bit his lip in silent reverence for its existence, then looked back into eyes filled with mirth and mischief. “Is this the part where we form a soul tie and stay together forever?”
“You’re so dramatic, boy! It was not all that.”
“There is a cock ring inside my God-fearing home!” Kelvin exclaimed, only half joking amid Asia’s gut-busting laughter.
Kelvin watched his lover toss her head back with glee, a fond smile gracing his face as her hair products’ scent wafted from the headscarf keeping her pixie in check. The smell would stick with him forever. If not from sharing a bed with her for what he hoped was the rest of his life, then from how the fabric deprived him of sight while his lady turned his world upside down.
Asia watched Kelvin slip into far-off thoughts and dropped a kiss onto his lips to bring him back down to Earth. “It wasn’t a cock ring. It was a…”
“Rechargeable Lovehoney We-Vibe. And it’s app-controlled. Look!”
When Asia introduced the navy blue gift box wrapped in a matching navy ribbon to Kelvin while he busied himself with searing scallops for dinner, he assumed she was making good on their bet from weeks prior. Asia owed him a new pair of earrings and oral exploits below the belt for showing his face at the gym four days in one week. He received the latter after Asia arrived and washed away airport grime. The former, however, remained to be seen.
Kelvin offered Asia furrowed brows, and a confused look over the thick black rim of his glasses as he shifted his attention from the silicone contraption nestled into satin fabric to the woman resting her chin on his shoulder. “Baby, that’s a cock ring,” he announced in a monotone voice as if Asia weren’t already aware. “How much did you pay for that?”
“That’s not important. I’m asking whether you’re up for experimenting this weekend or not. I think it’ll be fun for you.”
Kelvin scoffed. “For me or for you?”
In their time spent returning the smoldering embers of lost romance to a raging fire, Kelvin couldn’t help but notice Asia had changed. He thought her budding confidence and unflappable assuredness were the product of what his mother had dubbed “full-breasted” womanhood when his sister announced her first pregnancy. He likened it to an evolving Pokemon or unlocking the map in Grand Theft Auto for the first time.
Asia had experienced an awakening. Something so transformative it seeped into the way she moved her lips against his in a moment of passion, how she touched him in the heat of physical worship, and the way she spoke to make her intentions known.
“Same thing. What’s yours is mine. Including pleasure.” Kelvin shook his head and watched Asia tap at her phone screen to start the peculiar device’s low electrical hum. She removed the ring from its home and slipped it over three fingers before presenting it for her partner to examine. “Perfect fit, no? Wanna touch it?”
Curiosity got the best of the church boy still living inside a man who’d seen sex up close more times than he could count. He’d enjoyed his fair share of spontaneous escapades and adventurous romps, but nothing like what Asia was proposing. Still, curiosity compelled Kelvin to shut off the stove before reaching out to touch the odd gadget vibrating on her knuckles.
A tentative brush across the top of the ring transitioned into an exploratory touch that lingered for longer than either of them expected.
Asia took advantage of Kelvin’s distracted state and pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. “See. It’s like my little massager at home.”
“You keep making up these words for things that already exist,” Kelvin chuckled, still captivated by the device. “It’s a vibrator. Stop trying to make it sound demure.”
“Okay, fine. This is a cock ring. And if it feels good here…” Asia spoke low and slow as she moved to place the ring against Kelvin’s neck. “And here…” The quiet shudder once the vibrations touched Kelvin’s nipples through the fabric of his t-shirt made her smile in triumph against his shoulder. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “You should know how good it feels down here.”
The slow descent past the zipper of Kelvin’s trousers and into his pants suspended them both in time, turning flirtatious touching into foreplay before dinner could touch the table. There was crisp white wine to consume until they were light enough to take their fun into the bedroom.
Kelvin missed the sensation the moment Asia cut her demonstration and pulled her hand away from a growing stiffness he hoped she couldn’t detect. No dice. She’d felt it and allowed its presence to feed her ego as she shut off the vibration with the app on her phone.
Asia played coy, wrapping her arms around Kelvin’s waist and regarding him with round eyes carrying feigned innocence. “It’s up to you, baby. Tonight’s gonna be great either way, right?”
Sure, it would’ve. Maybe they’d find a use for those scallops after rounds of lovemaking exhausted them to the point of insatiable hunger. But right now, with his wrists bound against one of his dining chairs by an old necktie from the back of his closet and eyes shrouded in darkness behind a cool satin scarf smelling of a signature Temple Oud, Kelvin sat anticipating the seconds and minutes right in front of him.
Sharper hearing seemed to amplify the click of Asia’s heels across gleaming hardwood as she made her way to stand in front of Kelvin and examine her handiwork. Though he couldn’t see, Kelvin knew Asia was smiling at his current predicament. He could almost hear her glossed lips parting to form a broad grin as she scanned the man bouncing his leg up and down as a soothing mechanism to keep his mind from wandering too far away.
Surefooted steps grew louder as Asia took long strides toward Kelvin. His heartbeat quickened in anticipation. He sent thanks to God for skipping those scallops. What a disaster it would’ve been to have those on his stomach with the lurching, churning sensation he felt once Asia’s fingernails grazed his bare thigh and inched closer to his crotch.
“Relax,” she spoke into his ear, closer than Kelvin remembered. Asia listened to her willing captor release a slow breath as she licked the shell of his ear and rubbed teasing circles against his upper thighs with both thumbs. “Ready? I can hold off if you need more time to–”
“I’m ready.” An answer came from Kelvin in a breathless rush of wind. Like he’d wanted to say those words all day.
Something seized his body and mind in one go. Excitement? Curiosity? Pent-up desire screaming for a release after five weeks of fantasizing? Though Kelvin never imagined feeling his shoulders burn from holding steady behind his back while he waited for near torture from his lover, he wouldn’t lie and say his new reality didn’t bring with it a host of scary, tantalizing possibilities.
Asia watched Kelvin sway his head from side to side, hoping he could return the extra energy spent hearing to his eyesight and see what she had in store for him. She leaned closer to swipe her tongue against the sweet spot she’d discovered below his ear ages ago.
His body seized as she suckled for a moment before pulling away to whisper against the now wet skin. “Lift your hips for me.”
A current of electricity shot across Kelvin’s entire body, awakening nerves that had been dormant for years, waiting for someone to flip their switch.
A lack of sight heightened his sensitivity in every brush against his inner thigh, teasing him with no regard for what might happen if his self-control waned. Kelvin felt grateful his manhood had remained tucked away as not to embarrass him in front of company, but knew the battle he’d won did not mean victory for the war.
A dizzying sequence of events left Kelvin no time to prepare for the cold prick of air conditioning on full blast meeting his naked body, his inhibitions taking a happy backseat to incoming arousal as warm hands applied slippery, tingling lubricant, or the snug fit of silicone enveloping each inch of his shaft until Asia had fitted the strange device against him for maximum impact.
Brown eyes watching a lover dissolve into silent moans while his toes gripped the plush rug beneath them to tether his body to reality lit up in satisfaction. Asia had seen this moment somewhere in a dream. Fragmented pieces of Kelvin’s chest heaving under her control no longer existed in the confines of slumber. They were real and unraveling just as Asia tapped at her phone screen to start a low hum of vibrations.
“Shit.” An attempt to keep himself steady failed, leaving Kelvin to pull at his restraints with a surprised curse on his tongue.
Asia took a final sweeping look at his face, contorted in pleasures he couldn’t lean into, as she strutted to take her place behind him. “You good?”
“F-fine.” Ego had Kelvin clipping his responses and biting his bottom lip to maintain some semblance of control. If he didn’t answer in short, primitive grunts saddled with unspoken words, he’d betray the facade he’d built and disturb a few neighbors.
Setting one was an appetizer of sorts. Asia denied herself the opportunity to watch Kelvin tense and release beautiful muscles, his resolve diminishing by the second, in favor of increasing the device’s intensity to the next level. Here, she could rest. Here, she could tease to no end.
Just as Kelvin tugged at his restraints a second time in an involuntary plea for mercy, Asia placed her phone on the nearby coffee table and sauntered to stand behind his chair. Cold hands against hot skin seemed to soothe him into slight relaxation, prompting Asia to press a proud kiss on his cheek.
“You’re doing a great job for me,” she praised, her voice low and sultry to tingle his sense of hearing. A quiet moan slipped past Kelvin’s lips, pleasing her. “Nuh uh. Don’t hide. I love when you let me know how I’m making you feel.”
The purr attempting to hide amid pride and what he “should” sound like erupted from Kelvin’s throat just as the mental image of her lower lips sticky and slick for him watered his mouth.
Asia giggled into his ear and rewarded him with another kiss. She tugged on his earlobe with his teeth before asking, “You wanna taste?”
“Yeah.” Breathless and nearing the edge, Kelvin made his request known in a needy whisper that almost sent Asia into a spiral. When no fingers breached lips to coat his tongue in the flavor he craved more than air to breathe, he stretched his bound hands as much as possible to graze what he could reach of Asia’s thigh. “I want to taste. Tell me what to do.”
Compliant. Malleable. Ready for instruction. Where Asia had prepared for a brief battle of wits sat a man so obedient she almost considered ending her charade then and there.
But the show must go on.
Asia bent at the waist and took her time grazing the tips of her nail extensions across Kelvin’s bare skin while kissing his neck. “Yellow when you need a break…” Hands on his chest reached their target—sensitive nipples begging for her touch. She listened to his low groan and watched his head lull to one side, grinning as she rolled both buds between her fingers. “China when you’re about to cum.”
Kelvin didn’t plan to remember any of his teacher’s instructions. In a haze of immeasurable pleasure, all he could think or feel was Asia. The way her tongue left a damp spot on his neck that she massaged with her full lips. How quickly what he knew to be a deep purple bruise sprouted as a physical love letter. Rolling shocks from nipple stimulation and that damned cock ring he wanted to hate but couldn’t focus long enough to put feigned disdain in its proper place.
Muffled sounds of pleasure foreign to the brink of embarrassment filled the space between his ears and every inch of an apartment still green to what could happen when grown folks had a point to prove.
Lost in a tangled web of sensations, impending release snuck up on Kelvin like a predator hunts prey, tingling the base of his spine and curling his toes into the plush rug beneath him.
“Ch-Chi…ohmyGod.” His wrists tugged against the unforgiving necktie keeping him bound. Sudden clarity helped him blurt out the word he’d been struggling to recall. “China! Fuck! China!”
As quickly as he’d made his incoming finish known, buzzing ceased, leaving his chest heaving and his dick twitching in expectation. His mouth hung open in search of his first deep breath in only God knew how long.
Asia could see the slight tremor in Kelvin’s shoulder as he pulled oxygen into his lungs and released the rest to calm his nervous system. “There you go, babe. Good job.” Audible cracking from Kelvin’s knuckles tensing and releasing made her smile as she pressed gentle kisses to his jawline. “I think you earned your taste. What do you think?”
“Hell yeah,” Kelvin answered.
Fingers coated in clear, sticky essence emerged from lace undergarments primed for a man searching for gourmet flavor. Asia’s sultry command prompted Kelvin to open his mouth, tongue extended and expectant. Asia allowed him to lick her fingers clean while fighting the urge to join him. He looked like a man starved for any taste of her body he could get. Starved, however, wasn’t good enough. Asia was looking for ravenous hunger to take center stage.
Before Kelvin could settle into the attention, the buzzing against his overstimulated body tensed the muscles in his belly and called forth a long, drawn-out moan Asia wished she could bottle for future pleasure.
She nuzzled her nose against Kelvin’s cheek and giggled as she listened to his breathing grow ragged. “I love the way you sound, baby,” she purred, her fingers creating goosebumps in their wake as she drug them down his torso and back up again. A Cheshire grin slid across her face. “Let me help you breathe.”
Instructions sounded like distant murmurs in a mind splintering into new branches, each focused on a unique sensation.
“In through your nose.” He’d heard that advice before. Hell, he’d given that advice before. Still, the concept had failed him when he needed it most. Asia nudged him again, her voice more gentle than before. “Come on, baby. Breathe in through your nose for me. Four seconds.”
One shaky, deep inhale pulled oxygen into Kelvin’s body for four agonizing seconds to settle buzzing nerves.
Asia hummed her approval. “Now hold it. One, two, three…”
Kelvin listened to the count mount up to seven while he tried to focus on following directions as best he could. A directive to release pent-up arousal through an eight-count breath produced a silent sigh and electricity that produced goose bumps from head to toe. But he felt it. Whatever they’d set out to accomplish together, Kelvin felt the results turn pleasure into something spiritual and difficult to contain all on his own.
Four counts in. Hold for seven. Release for eight. Feel passion come to a simmer and then a rolling boil. Repeat from the top.
“You like being used like this, don’t you?” Asia’s voice tugged him back to the present like a Pitbull on a short chain, reminding him of the present circumstances while colors and shapes danced behind his closed lids.
Did he? In any other circumstance, Kelvin would resent any insinuation that he relinquish his self-appointed position as the light-bearer of sensuality in the bedroom. For over a decade, he’d doled every ounce of enjoyment shared between the sheets. His expertise was a badge of honor he’d wear with pride if such physical mementos existed.
Did he enjoy being used? “No,” he whispered after releasing all the wind in his lungs after eight seconds ticked away by mental math.
Being used in the general sense wasn’t his style. Kelvin would die on that hill. But being used like this? Well, that was something different. His caterpillar was now a confident, sexy butterfly doling out punishment and reward in a single go. He’d follow her to the end of a cliff and ask how high if she declared it a good idea that he take a dive. Fulfilling her desires was enough to turn a grown man into an eager lapdog begging for validation tucked away in her sweet kisses.
“I like being used by you.” Through a breathless response and a low moan acting as a warning before the fireworks, Kelvin didn’t like being used by just any woman with a friendly smile and high heels. He enjoyed being used by her. And he would tell whoever asked without fear of embarrassment.
Asia crossed one leg over the other to subdue the heartbeat thudding between her thighs. If she wasn’t careful, there would be no act three in favor of skipping to the climax.
“Perfect answer.” Kelvin felt his head being tugged backwards once the cock ring’s vibrations increased to a furious pace, sending a jolt of energy racing through his body. A fiery kiss kept his mind splintered just enough to avoid spilling onto his own stomach. Asia bathed him in affection, her tongue and lips working as a ragtag search party for any remnants of her flavor inside his mouth.
She walked a tightrope on the edge of control. Flames of premature wish fulfillment called for her attention with the promise of the eye-crossing orgasm she’d been dreaming about for weeks on end. Temptation’s allure threatened her resolve. Desire had won yet again.
Then the buzzing ceased. And the kiss ended. The sound of shared panting filled the room while the pair traded breaths until their chests heaved in sync. Asia gazed down at her beaux, observing the trail of tears sliding from his eye’s outer corner before kissing the droplets away.
Kelvin leaned into the velvet feel of her lips against his hot temple and sighed, thankful for the reprieve.
“Blindfold or restraints?” A giggle slipped through her smile as she watched his eyebrows scrunch in confusion when no words could tumble out in a crazed babble. She caressed his jaw and then leaned in to pepper his swollen mouth with quick pecks. “Trust me?” He nodded a simple yes. “Then tell me which one you want removed. Your blindfold to see or your restraints to touch?”
Air to breathe or food to eat? Kelvin had approached an impossible decision. Still, he knew which he’d choose if given a million different options.
“Blindfold.”
He needed to see her. Roaming the expanse of her body with hands sweating from the anticipation was too easy. Too soon. He could wait until her game had ended and his could begin. Having his eyes free to match the images conjured in his mind was more important than the water he needed. If he succumbed to dehydration, at least he got to see her one last time.
Kelvin’s wish became Asia’s command. He tracked the click-clack of her high-heels around the room, listening and trying to piece together her next move as she shuffled within earshot. “Wait until I say when.”
Obedience paid immediate dividends. Kelvin kept his urge to reach for the back of her thighs in check as Asia loosened the headscarf impeding his vision. His eyes danced behind lids clamped shut, trying to make out her silhouette in the leaks of light around the room.
Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack. He counted eight steps in total until he could sense her presence standing before him. Careful prodding with her foot pushed his legs open wider. Two more steps brought her closer. The warmth from her hands enveloped his thighs. Self-control had never been one of Kelvin’s selling points. Creativity, maybe? Sharp wit and the gift of gab, for sure. But impulsiveness was his weakness. He wrestled his inner man in a bitter mental battle as Asia leaned forward to slide her tongue across the thumping pulse on his neck. His fingers curled into a fist as a reminder of all she had promised. His jaw clenched to maintain his composure when the rolling vibrations of his newest guilty pleasure began once more.
“Open your eyes.”
The command shocked Kelvin into a temporary freeze. For a moment, he listened to Asia’s footsteps retreat and then stop, leaving him as the sole determinant of what happened next. His first dose of power and excitement had gripped him with such ferocity, he couldn’t remember how to complete a task as simple as opening his eyes. Playfulness in Asia’s reminder soothed the current of trepidation coursing through his mind enough to set off an internal countdown.
One. Two. Three.
An initial rush of red light flooded pupils not yet adjusted to life without dense darkness. Instinct forced Kelvin’s eyes shut then open once more to clear the slight veil of fog distorting the world around him. Shadows on a nearby wall caught his attention first, the silhouettes looking ten feet tall as he scanned the room before landing on the only sight worth beholding.
Kelvin started at the black heels adorning her feet then let his jaw fall slack when a wave of pleasure coincided with a glimpse of her beautiful naked body standing before him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, girl. Damn.”
“That’s no fun,” she answered, feigning a pout. “We’re almost at the good part, baby.”
“Oh yeah? Come over here and tell me about it.”
Reveling in the attention, Asia made a show of strutting toward her lone, rapt audience member. Kelvin watched her with a twinkle of hunger in his eyes, like a man laying eyes on a feast after days in the wilderness. He fought against the restraints as she drew closer, wishing he’d talked her into a deal for freedom to touch. The request turned into a whisper on his lips that he swallowed without complaint once her lips claimed his in a kiss that turned racing thoughts into a blank canvas ready for whatever she wanted to create.
Together they melded into one fluid motion like trained performers, their mouths moving against each other in perfect sync. Kelvin took what Asia provided and returned each gift to her tenfold. Every lick, suckle, careful bite, and taut nipple placed on his tongue he welcomed to hear her keen above him for more.
Vibrations from his intensifying moans added fuel to her fire, pushing her body to the brink until he could smell the desire seeping from her pores. Smoldering intensity kept at bay by a levelheaded captain skyrocketed once the harbinger of chaos earned an inch of freedom. She was more than ready to drop her responsibilities and body into his lap and take a spin on the other side of submission.
In a breathless rush of wind, Asia quieted wild whimpers and the devil on her shoulder convincing her to stay put for a few more seconds to pry her breast from Kelvin’s mouth. She pressed her forehead against his, locking her dilated pupils with his.
“I’m gonna take all this shit off you, okay,” she panted against his lips between kisses meant to stabilize their breathing. “Restraints, the ring, everything. It’s coming off because I need you so bad right now.”
With his eyes beginning to roll back in a familiar pattern, Kelvin pulled in a shallow breath before forcing out a simple sentence. “China, baby.”
“No, no, no, no!”
A mad scramble to back out of the space between Kelvin’s legs sent Asia dashing toward the coffee table to stop the cock ring’s sweet torture once and for all. Kelvin heaved out a shuttering groan as the shocks slowed to a halt before allowing his entire body to go limp against the stiff back of his chair. Asia filled the silence with soothing words, her lips pressed to the shell of his ear to keep her mix of praise and breathing instructions between them.
Little by little, heart rates evened to a steady pace, blood dispersed across the rest of his limbs, and the brain fog lifted to uncross his eyes and return their focus to the goddess nursing him back down to Earth.
Kelvin watched Asia drop to her knees and work the device off his shaft with the tenderness she reserved for the potted snake plant he purchased in her honor. Soft kisses on his thighs trailed up his abdomen, to both sides of his chest, against his neck, then to his lips as she removed the sturdy knot creating a delicious, painful indent against his wrist.
Two kisses along the corner of her mouth turned rules into suggestions before Asia could gather her common sense and remain in control once she settled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can I touch you now?” His request for permission morphed into a sultry murmur against skin growing slick with perspiration. “Hm? Yes or no? Tell me.”
A simple nod from a woman already mentally skipping away to la-la land provided an answer to his question.
Measured movements brought Kelvin’s hands to Asia’s calves, where they lingered for longer than either of them expected. Asia expected a man possessed—an all-out frenzy to rub and grab as he saw fit. But patience had found her excitable man as he trailed his fingers up and down her thighs, finding new spots to commit to memory along his journey.
At her ass, Kelvin made a pit stop to land light love taps meant to make the area ripple from the force and knead the spot with his fingers spread wide to fit both cheeks in the palms of his hands. Kelvin took care to keep their lip lock unbroken as a slow ascent brought him to the middle of her toned back where he flattened his palms to press her against his body. The unmistakable throb at the apex of her thighs was like water for a man thirsty to make a home inside her.
‘I love you’ written in cursive across her shoulder blades elicited the sort of love-struck sigh Asia swore only existed in the recesses of steamy shower thoughts. Her brain had entered passive mode, thinking of nothing but the prickle of stubble against her neck and sighing into each affectionate kiss on her collarbone until weightlessness added a healthy shock to her system.
In a whirlwind of limbs and sneaky strength, her chest and face became acquainted with the cool suede on her favorite couch with her arms pulled tight behind her back.
Kelvin kept his attention focused on the spot where their bodies sat waiting to merge, his pupils blown wide as he drug the leaking head of his dick up against her glistening heat. Asia arched into the friction, hoping her wordless request was enough to set off a second chain reaction.
He didn’t oblige with any urgency. Instead, he offered shallow penetration and the press of palm to deepen the curve in her back. Kelvin leaned close to nip at her shoulder before speaking into her ear. “You know what I want to hear?” he questioned, grinning down at her as he filled her with more of him. When she answered with a guttural moan and tightened walls providing a warm vice grip, he nodded. “Yeah. That’s it. Be loud for me, baby.”
They’d carried bad habits into a new space. Chords of otherworldly carnal enjoyment interspersed with the rhythmic slap of skin on skin bounced from wall to wall as Kelvin engaged in a mission to turn bottled frustration from several trips to the edge and back into something they could enjoy together.
Shadows detailed their lewd tango like ancient hieroglyphs on pyramid walls. Asia’s toes curled inside her heels without permission to keep the expensive shoes on her feet while her feet flopped to a frenetic rhythm set by her lover. If he had intended his thorough, precise strokes as punishment, he was mistaken. This was the sweet, filthy victory she had envisioned in the midnight hour of her previous visit.
Digging his heels for leverage, Kelvin pulled both of Asia’s wrists into one hand and used the other to keep her body steady by the hip. “In or out?” He prayed she didn’t need further context. Words were pricey when the time between a great night and fatherhood was shortening by the second. Asia let the words pass between her ears in the uninhabited spot where her common sense once lived. Kelvin inquired again through gritted teeth. “Come on, Asia. In or — fuck — in or out, baby. Come on. Talk to me.”
“Stay,” she hollered, her face leaving smudged makeup on the cushion as another issue to sort in the morning. “I need it. Stay!”
Kelvin couldn’t stop his eyes from crossing or the expletives he shouted at the ceiling as emptied all he had into the softest place on Earth. His body slumped from exhaustion while his hips continued to drive into Asia until they were empty shells riding the high of reconnection on a physical level and craving more of what the night could offer.
The novel concept retreated to make way for present circumstances to remind him of the pretty face staring back at him with a smile that could turn away the rain drumming against his window.
“You should’ve started by telling me you were on birth control. We could’ve pushed the envelope,” he responded, smiling as he reached up to run his thumb across her bottom lip.
Asia chuckled and rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why. You don’t know when to stop!”
“How can you teach me self-control and then not let me practice? Isn’t that what they teach you in teacher school or whatever?”
“Nigga, my degree is in business. What?” Shared laughter dissolved into open-mouthed kisses with no regard for missed steps in their morning routine. Asia pulled away, searching for air yet finding bliss resting on Kelvin’s face as he looked back at her. She smiled and caressed his face. “What’s the plan for today?”
A paint and sip. Dinner. Popping the question he’d been meaning to ask since the night they reconnected. “Uh, nothing serious,” Kelvin answered. “Pretty…loose schedule. Flexible. Why?”
“I don’t know. With the rain, I thought maybe we could order some food from that place with the good omelets, then spend today catching up. I have one more party favor for us if you’re into it.”
As the light drizzle turned into a torrential downpour, Kelvin made space for Asia to straddle his lap. They’d resumed the game with no name and no rules. Erotic energy claimed them without protest, deepening every whisper of praise and trail of fingers against hot, naked skin until passion had risen to its tipping point.
Kelvin used his last seconds of coherent thought to rattle off a last request. “Baby,” he murmured into the valley of Asia’s breast. His hooded eyes drifted to the foot of the bed and then back to the inquisitive expression on her face. “Grab the heels.”
summary: dallas finally grants terry his request of a conversation, which unknowingly unlocks a new path for the two as they navigate where the events of the past couple weeks now put them.
pairing: terry richmond x dallas dubois (oc!)
content: language, crude remarks, mentions of wwe star (pre-his political view leak)
note: be advised that while this installment is considered a main part, there may be references or connections made to weekly interludes that may contain information important to the storyline.
a/n: hey there! long time, huh? I hope everyone is fairing well as we transition into fall. I'm am so absolutely grateful and honored for the reception this fic has been getting! please know that I appreciate every single one of you more than words can say. i hope you enjoy!
p.s: please feel free to comment, like, reblog, or send a letter with any rambles, hit my dm for questions, and more. i enjoy hearing from you all - arie
True to her word, Dallas had met Terry that next morning on the steps of the funeral home to fulfill her pledge of an open minded conversation. And while she still refused to discuss or acknowledge certain aspects of that night at Tulane, after hearing the sincerity in his voice that said what apologies she would allow out loud against the cool Savannah breeze, there sitting side by side on the faded cement steps, she let her heart be persuaded to give an inch of effort.
“ After hearing all that, I can tell you that I accept your apologies, Terry.” She sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of her black sweater, “ And I hope you can accept mine too for how cruel I may have been to you recently. You're dealing with an unimaginable loss and the least I can do is be a bit more considerate of that." She said, earning a nod from him and a small pause of silence until she spoke again.
“ Look, I’m not going to promise you that we’ll ever be the way we were again. Cause after that night I just don’t think that’s possible.” She started.
“ But I promise you that I’ll try to be more cordial from now on when we see each other during the renovation or around town.” Dallas spoke, “ And to not ‘ignore that you exist’. Honest.” She affirmed, turning her head to look and see the hint of a smile pull at his lips as he said, “ That’s all I’m asking for from you, Dilly.”
Immediately the young mortician’s cheeks heated and she couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face as she heard the almost prehistoric nickname Terry had once given her leave his lips.
“ Aye’ DO.NOT.” She placed a hand to her mouth in a feeble attempt to smother her small laughter, “And I mean. DO NOT! Call me that. Oh my gosh! PLUH-EASE! Spare me, Terrance! How and why do you even remember that?”
“ Because I’ll never forget you acting like you’d just discovered the eighth wonder of the world.” He teased, referring to the time when the school’s botany club had taken a field trip to the Oatland Island Wildlife Center to visit their conservatory. And during that time walking around, Dallas had discovered the joys of a Dilly bar and had quickly inhaled two during their time at the Island. Before ranting about their delicious taste all the way home on the bus to Terry, who in secret had found her to be absolutely adorable. As he even once went out of his way to procure a box just for her, for her 16th birthday, which to Dallas at the time, had been the most sweetest gesture given that no one at the time could find them in stores in their region.
“ Oh my–Knock it off! They were good, dammit! And don’t be acting like you weren’t right there with me. With chocolate all on your fingertips and stuff too. Plus you bought them!” She playfully swatted at his arm, as he chuckled at her sudden bashfulness, while a warm and familiar feeling of being able to laugh with her again overtook his body. And with her having her guard down with him again like this, it prompted him to push his luck with his next statement.
“ I’ve missed this.” Terry started, “ And I’ve missed you.” His head turning to examine her body language. " A lot."
His words, a gamble that at the moment, seemed too big, because just as quick as he'd put that smile he so longed for on her face, just as quick he had banished it with confession. As he watched it fade back into calculated stone and those couple of little bricks he’d managed to remove from her wall be put right back in their place too. With more force too.
His eyes carefully followed her frame as she rose, dusting herself off and clearing her throat, while gathering her bag to leave to begin up the steps.
“ Well It’s almost 7:00 and I have some work to do before Mr. Ducane arrives, ” Dallas said, “ So if you’ll excuse me.”
Cursing himself for jumping ahead, Terry did his best to recover.
“ Understood. Not a problem. The guys and I will start looking through the blueprints for the back chapel and looking to order the material y’all picked. So we can start as early as next Tuesday if all goes to plan.” He spoke, rising and moving to the bottom step.
“ Sounds good.” She nodded, “ I appreciate it, Terry. Really.”
“ No problem.” He says as he went to turn away but was stopped by his need to say, “ Thank you for this.”
“ You’re welcome.” She responded, beginning to ascend up the stairs toward the door before she stopped and shifted, catching him before he made to his truck.
“ And Terry?”
“ Yeah?”
“ When you are here, could you please try and keep the noise to a minimum.” She said, a small smile on her face.
“ Yes, ma’am.” Another small smile tugs at the corners of his face as he nods, “ Of course. Barely hear a peep.”
====
And as he said they would, Richmond & Co. began their construction contract with the Dubois Family Funeral Home that following Tuesday morning. Ensuing an interesting dynamic between the two rekindled friends, with glances often being shared and small conversations occasionally had in the hallways between work.
It wasn’t much, but Terry wouldn’t complain. He was more than willing to take what he could get.
In the mornings while Nefari would still lie in bed and the Georgia sun hadn’t quite kissed the sky yet, Terry would go for a morning ride and come back energized for the day. Feeling a rush as he got ready.
He usually couldn’t lace up his steel toe boots fast enough to get out of the house and down to the funeral home to start the substantial manual labor in exchange for even just the slightest hope of a glance or mumbled word from Dallas in passing.
And as the first round of the project began to wrap, Terry found himself using his key given to him for the project and coming back after operating hours to look at the finished work before he and his team could begin to formulate their next move. It was during this time that he was passing through the quiet hallways lined with paintings of depicted comfort and love, that he drifted toward a buzzing noise that came from the way of Dallas’s personal office.
Moving forward, he stopped at the door that spilled out the sound of some kind of heavy metal he’d never heard from the crack in it. He used two knuckles for a couple taps before her voice beckoned him in to see her, hair clipped up and glasses equipped, as she muddled away at her desk that was drowned in a beige and white sea of manilla folders and stray paperwork.
“ You still here?” Terry blinked looking down at his watch that clearly read a quarter to eight. Which puzzled him since operating hours ended at six thirty sharp.
“ I’m sitting here aren’t I?” She shot back, eyes never leaving her perfectly color coded time sheet.
At her statement, Terry’s left eyebrow quirked, just as he came to take a seat at one of the chairs across from her desk. “ Since when did you develop such a smart mouth?”
“ My mouth has always been smart, Terry.” She matter o’ factly quipped back, “Just never was with you. You hadn’t ever given me a reason to be.”
“ Yeah? And what’s the reason for it, right now?”
“ Would you like a definitive list?” She smiled, obviously taking pleasure in her joke.
With a small eye roll, he decided to brush it off, as Terry shifted topics, “ What are you listening to?”
“ Nosy, much.” She playfully pointed out.
“ I’m serious, D?” Terry sat back, curiosity piqued, “ What is it?”
“ Well if you must know it’s the Nova Twins. They’re this sweet duo out of the UK.” She turned her monitor to give him a glance at their album cover for Who are the girls?
“ Mmm.” He nodded his head to the melody, listening to the bass that lightly thumped her desk,“ They sound dope.”
“ They are dope.” Dallas confirmed, “ I think you’d like them. Not exactly on the same cadence as Bad Brains, but you should give them a listen sometime when you go for your runs or whatever. You still take bike rides in the morning?”
“ Yeah. I usually hit the trails early before the joggers get up. That way I’m not in anyone's way if I wanna pick up a little speed.”
“ Still never got into it?” He asked, recalling a time where Dallas had once expressed an interest in taking up endurance biking, yet after one go with Terry on a beginner trail back in college, she never did attempt it again. As evidenced by the large bruise she'd received on her thigh after she'd accidentally gone over a rock with the front wheel and lost balance, which consequently had Terry guiding two bikes by hand by up the trail with a slightly wailing Dallas attached to his back in the middle of the forest.
“ Nah.” She waved him off, “ More of a low cardio girl. I’ll take a good treadmill session, an hour on the stair master, couple laps at the country club pool anytime. Even may pick up some weights for a little core training here and there. But I’ll leave you to your road running.”
“ Core training? You talking my language now.” He lightly clapped.
“ Yeah, Yeah. Nigga, don’t be going and getting too excited. It’s just a couple of ten pound weights every once in a while. Nothing crazy. I’m not like you lifting weights to look like I wrestle albino alligators and shit for fun. Have my neck stretching the bounds of my shirt like that.” She pointed to him.
“ Hasn’t anyone ever told you steroids are bad for you, Terrance?” She smirked.
“ Maybe once or twice. But even if I was. Isn’t that what you’re into?” He chuckled, “ I remember you having a crush on one of those big WWE steroid and corn fed looking motherfuckers back in the day.” He recalled when all Dallas used to do was swoon about some white boy on Tuesday mornings during school that she’d drooled over the previous night.
“ His name is Randy Orton, and whatever corn they feed them down in Tennessee has them looking fine as hell on my TV screen, tell you that much! Just like whatever they feedin’ them Samoan men down in Florida has them looking right! Specially’ Roman. Mmph Mmph Mmph.” She made a noise, “ Absolutely delicious.”
“ You talking about the big nigga with the long hair and the big ass domino teeth?” Terry laughed at the scowl that his comment produced on Dallas’s face, which was really her masking a smile that wanted to erupt across it.
“ Uh Uh. Rudeness! Don’t hate, Richmond.” Dallas said, whirling the monitor around,“ Besides, I like the long hair. It’s sexy.”
“ Ugh.” Terry’s groan was immediate, “ Please, don’t ever call another nigga sexy while I'm around. Thank you.” He held up a hand.
Amused by his slight annoyance, Dallas decided to poke the bear just a little further.
“ Oh, but that’s what friends do, Terry. They listen to you talk about your crushes and stuff.” Dallas smirked, “ I mean aren’t we supposed to be friends again and all now,? Can’t I confide in you?"
“ You know can, Dallas. About anything." He affirmed, " But we never talked about things like that before when we were friends way back. So, please let’s not start now.”
“ Fine.” Dallas chirped, turning her attention back to the screen before her, “ Well as riveting as this little chat has been. You’ll have to excuse yourself so I can get back to working on correcting these death certificates Mrs. White’s new apprentice screwed up before I have to send them to the county clerk’s office to be certified.”
“ If I’m lucky, I’ll be done before the rooster crows in the morning. That way I can go home and finally get something to eat.” She groaned, mouth practically salivating at the thought of the meal prepped turkey bowl awaiting her in her frig.
“ When’s the last time you ate?” Terry leaned forward, examining the sole glass tumbler at the corner of the desk.
Noticing the knit of his eyebrows and the lift of his shoulders, Dallas immediately attempted to deflect “ Terry I-
“ Dallas.” His voice was firm cutting her off, sending a small wave of goosebumps across her back in the same way it had before in the hallway, “ When?”
“ Urmm…” Looking to the corner of the computer monitor for the time. “ It’s almost 8:00 now. And if I came in at seven but didn’t have breakfast—“
" You skipped Breakfast?" His voice ceased her pondering, and she could tell her by the look on his face that he'd now become officially annoyed, " Why, Dallas?"
“ It’s been a busy day, Terry. What can I say. I’m the queen of rolling lunches.” She threw up a hand, " Besides Breakfast was-"
“ And none of this can wait until tomorrow?”
“ I–” She sighed, “ I mean it probably could. But I’d rather do it–"
“ Good. Grab your stuff. We’re going to Treylors. And I’m driving and buying.” He stood up, keys jingling in his grasp.
“ Haha. No, WE are not.” Dallas laughed with no amusement present in her voice, while looking at him as if another head had just popped out of his already too tight collar, “ Terry, do you know what that would look like? Huh? Do you know what people would say seeing us out... together…alone.”
“ Yeah, it’d look like two old friends grabbin’ a bite to eat and catchin’ up. Nothin’ more. Nothin’ less. Which to be honest, I personally don’t care what the fuck anyone else has to say anyway. And you of all people know that.” He reasoned back, “ Besides the only reason I’m offering to drive is because you drive like you're driving Miss Daisy and I don’t have time to talk you out of a ticket for driving slower than paint dries, today.”
“ The only metal head I know that’ll be full on raging in a car while doing thirty five in a forty.” He teased, “ I can still remember you mee-maw driving all around town in that little pink beetle every when they let you have a license.” Terry teases, vaguely remembering the day Dallas had received license on a technicality related to a flickering traffic light and her almost being slide swiped by an oncoming car in the turning lane.
“ Screw you.” Dallas playfully shot him a bird, “ Don’t be mad at me cause I choose to be a careful and law abiding citizen.” She joked, as she watched his face harden a bit at her words.
Immediately she regretted them.
“ And I’m not?” He folded his arms across his chest with a more serious expression painted on his face, making Dallas mentally face palm at the ill landing joke.
“ Terry I didn’t mean–
“ Don’t sweat it. It’s cool. I know you didn’t.” He spoke, moving closer to her desk, “ But if you wanna make it up. You’ll get in this truck and go split a BLT and Cajun fry with me. Simple.”
Noting how the hard set lines of his mouth then melted into a teasing smile, Dallas had realized what she had just been manipulated into. And any other time she would called out for it and playfully told him to stick it where the sun didn’t shine.
However, since she practically could feel her stomach lining eating away at itself, combined with the offer of being driven for once not sounding bad. She decided to give in.
“Fine.” She carefully began closing the tabs on her computer, “ But I won’t be splitting anything, thank you. I’m having a whole! AND I'm paying for my own! ”
“ You sure?!” He quirked an eyebrow, “ This is coming from a girl who I remember could barely finish a half piece back then.” He spoke, ignoring her protest of wanting to pay for herself all together, since he knew that wasn't going to be something he'd have to worry about once they got there. He could handle her if she got squirrely about it.
“ Yeah well, you may not be aware but that’s back then. Things have changed. And I can definitely finish what’s on my plate now.” She shot back, feeling the tiny bit of tension that slowly built throughout their conversation really begin to rise to the surface.
“ Yeah? Prove it.” He reached for the door knob, opening it, “ Let’s go.”
He finally wore my girl down huh? Can’t wait to see yippy’s reaction to this rekindled friend ship 😂!
Dallas and Terry are so cute omg 😫. I know this is a change from my hater energy towards Terry but you get to see what their friendship was like before (and what their relationship is like). I see why that girl was hating on Dallas!
The way Terry will never hesitate to make sure Dallas is taken care of 🥹. Him getting on her about not eating sent me. Buying that lady a meal with a side of banter, they’re too cute! But I do have a question so I will be hitting your dm soon!
(Also not the green eyed monster popping out at Dallas saying that another man was sexy 💀. Don’t worry big papa you’ll get your turn lmao)
10’s across the board my love, than you for tagging me. Can’t wait for the next part!
"A tale in three parts" (via nicolandriavc on threads)
From an Instagram comment to Olandria and Nic being featured in the CR Fashion Book's post on hottest parties in NYFW.
