Love Delayed (48 page)

“Sure.” I pull out my phone. “Let me notify security.”
 

Less than five minutes later, we
are in the truck, heading to the house with security tailing us. I take the opportunity to chip at Zoey’s brain.

“
So, are you two officially engaged?”

“
We’re committed.” Again, Zoey grabs her left ring finger and rubs at my initials, not the “rock” that Bernard gave her.

“
So am I to my team, but that isn’t an engagement.”

She shifts in her seat with wide eyes and grates,
“What are you getting at?”

I stare at her for a few seconds, admiring her
beautiful angry face. Her features have matured over the years, but she still has the innocence-and-purity aura that she did when I met her. This anger she’s throwing my way is what I’ve caused, so I won’t push her. My eyes go back to the road.

“
Since you and Bernard are talking about moving, I’m assuming you’re moving forward with the engagement.”

“Well, you shouldn’t assume.”

“It’s hard not to when you’re wearing that.” I nod toward her left hand, referencing her ring.

“
Bernard shouldn’t have asserted that. We only talked about it briefly.” Zoey shakes her head, clearly frustrated. But that’s who Zoey has become over the years when I’m around. “I have things to sort out before I can make that move with him.”

“
Shit like what? You took the ring—”

“
I told him that I would accept his desire for a commitment to me!” That came out nastier than I’m used to with her. There’s a subliminal message, I’m sure.

“
What the fuck does that mean?”

“
It means...”

“Means what,
Zo?”

I
hear her sigh. “It means more than you ever gave,” she murmurs.

I cringe, surprised by her candor.

“So, you settle?”

With her arms wrapped protectively across her chest, she says,
“I’m not settling I’m simply being smarter about waiting things out. Before, I waited on you, now I’m waiting on me to make sure this is right for my son and me.”

Ahhhh
…
So, we finally address the real issue!
But what does that mean?

I turn it over in my mind as I pull onto
the Barrett property. Zoey’s out of the car and slams the door before I can stand to my feet. I follow her into the house and through the kitchen. The farther we go, the more I believe I’m losing my footing with her.

“
Zoey...” I call after her.

She keeps her stride going for the rear staircase.

“Zo!” I leap to grab her.

She
jumps and her back meets the wall. Her mouth drops open.

“
Tell me what you need from me and I’ll do it,” I murmur, internally feeling that isn’t an adequate offer.

Our lips are so close. Closest they’ve been in over a year. I’ve missed the scent of her, the feel of her warm breath shooting onto my mouth at this proximity. My dick twitches its need.

“What do you need, Niña?” I breathe onto her pouted lips, ready to devour them. I can smell her desire for me. It’s been a while, but I now know she’s in need. I’ve never pushed her this hard to see her so raw. I didn’t want to defile her if she was sleeping with another man. But I now know she isn’t. Which means her pussy belongs to me. Again. “Fucking. Tell. Me.” I whisper into her mouth.

Now
, I see her chest heaving beneath her chin as I tower her. Her face grimaces into a frown, almost like an impending cry.

“Stent!” she croaks out then flutters her eyes.

That was it. That is her consent. I crush her lips with mine, immediately dipping my tongue into her trembling mouth. Within seconds, Zoey joins my tongue in wild and impassioned swiping. Her tongue. Goddamn I’ve missed it. Zoey tastes so fucking good. So sweet. It’s instantly intoxicating. Her hands are all over me, pushing me in a 180-degree pivot, frantically perusing my shoulders, chest, and when I feel them below my waistline, my abdominals leap. Feeling her little hands fumble with my belt dizzies me.

When she pulls back, she whispers with close
d lids, “All. I need it all.”

The back of my head collides with the wall behind me.
Zoey drops to her knees and takes me into her mouth without a moment for me to process it all. Her hot, wet mouth suctions my painful erection and her tongue twirls at the head, making my mouth go slack. This is the Zoey I’ve always known; no pretenses, no coyness, no games when it comes to sex. She sucks me fervently and jerks me with both her hands wrapped tightly. Suddenly, it feels like the first time for me. The sensation urged by her inspired twirling and draws shoot straight to my groin. It doesn’t take long for me to feel my orgasm.

“Niña,” I whimper because I have no gumption in me now to put bass in my voice. It’s all in my pipe, ready to
shoot into her mouth.

Her eyes jump
up to mine and she simultaneously starts to swirl her tongue faster and pull her wrists with more enthusiasm. When she moans, I know she’s giving me permission. I let go and detonate. My knees fucking quiver and my hands grip the back of her head as I hold my hips suspended, waiting to come down. All of sudden, Zoey brings my banked liquids up to the head of my cock, displaying my essence then sucks it back into her mouth. My eyes damn near pop out of my head. I watch her mirror my actions as she swallows hard.

“Stenton!” she cries before jumping on me, pushing my body against the wall. “Only with you. Only for you. Only you bring that out of me,” she pushes into my ear.

That plea unleashes something within. In seconds, I have Zoey on her back, panties torn, her legs hooked over my shoulders, and my face buried at the apex of her legs. I lick, suck, and spar with inspiration. Zoey isn’t happy. I know this because I know Zo. She needs to be pushed and challenged beyond what she advises. She presents as so confident, solid and well versed. And after all these years, I realize deep down inside she’s made up of the same thing every woman is. She has the ability to be led and to submit. In this moment, all things are made clear to me.

Having
Zoey like this—bare, on the steps of the back stairway in her parents’ vacation home, screaming insanities of pleasure—revelations of her soul are sound. She needs to be taken, to be loved. Zoey needs that
wow
factor that I’ve always given. I was just so fucked up by tying her down at such a delicate age that I let her slip between my fingers. I’ve caused so much pain for the both of us by my tepidness about my ultimate commitment to her.

“
Stenton!
” That cry, pouring from her lips as I catch her shooting liquids in my mouth confirms my revelations. “
Don’t. Let. Me Go!
” she cries. As my hands cup her ass, I know I could never let this woman go.

I could never be without her. I’ve always known I’ve had an unusual preoccupation with
Zoey since we met, but so many truths are being revealed in this act. Almost too many for my brain to process.

When she’s done, I crawl up her body until our mouths meet. I lift her onto the wall with her legs curled around my waist and mouth dancing sensually with mine. I enjoy her this way. She’s raw, stripped of that fucking know-it-all shield. She’s just my Niña.

“Do it, Stent!” I barely recognize the cry in her tone. She’s breathing harshly in my face. “Please.” Zoey cups my face, petitioning my eyes. “Do it.”

I reared and pushed into her pliant lips with one swift movement. She didn’t have to beg; only make clear her need.
Zoey tosses her head back as she squeezes her eyes shut and grips her hips around my waist. Her lips are separated as if she wants to scream.

“Go!” she demands, challenging my attempt to be gentle. She’s tight as fuck.

But I don’t want to lose her in this moment. I need to remind her of who we are together. What desire is like. Our passion. I go slamming my pelvis into her. I make sure to serve Zoey every inch of me. She fit me so well. Even if she experienced a bit of discomfort when we first started, Zoey is making room for her pleasure now. I feel her clamp on my waist even tighter, rocking into me, needing me to bring her to that next echelon of pleasure.             

All this time, I thought she had another path. One that didn’t require a man next to her, giving her the partnership that I’ve wanted with her. I thought
Zoey was a species that was different from any other warm-blooded woman. Her Teflon exterior had me believe all these years that she had no emotional need for me. I’ve always felt I’ve been a mere option to her; one that she purely entertained. In this moment, while I ram into her like I’m fucking king, I have dominion. She yields to me and I bring her there. I finally realize I’ve been delaying my own love. My life and commitment to Zoey.

“I can’t hold out any more! I need to pull
—”

“Don’t stop! We can do it…together!”
Zoey breathes forcefully through my ear.

I start to plummet
into her with such force that I feel an escape from my body. My mind floats somewhere when I see the grit of her teeth and feel the arching of her hips as I rub against her erogenous zone within. The minute Zoey cries her release, mine ignites an explosion too great for me to contain and I cry along with her. We hold on to each other like rabid animals, needing each other to survive this explosive bliss.

At some point, m
y ascension must have been a spectacle for Zoey because as she comes down she regards me, eerily, while still in my arms against the wall. I don’t want regret to settle into her. I need her to stay with me.

I don’t give a fuck. I have nothing to lose. “I love you. I’ve never stopped. You’ve been the only woman for me. When you’re ready, I can prove how.”
My tone is the most desperate I’ve heard of myself.  

Zoey slowly unwraps her limbs from around my torso. It’s troubling along with how she’s looking at me as though I’m an aggressor, a total stranger. Something isn’t right.

~~~~~~~~~~

~
Zoey
~

My body teeters on the ledge of post-coital bliss and unadulterated shock. My head feels about to explode as it fills with memories of his hinting admissions over the years.
I need to talk you about something. …what I’ve done to you. I don’t deserve this opportunity. It’s the least I could do considering what I’ve done to you.

My lips tremble with
a combination of disdain and disbelief. I’m in utter shock. It all makes sense now.

“I know...
us
. Believe it or not, I can recall and narrate each time we’ve made love since the first time. I can tell you every sensation I felt and every expression of ecstasy you made with me. Trust me, I can; it’s tortured me to imagine which ones you’ve shared with Erika…and Jenna over the years. The only times you’ve glided in and out of me without the...feel of rubber was in The Cayman Islands.”

Stenton pull
s in a sharp breath, too hard. Too quickly.

“I may have been high one of those days and somewhat intoxicated a few nights, but I recall vividly what we felt like together. I remember how smooth your penetration was.” Then my eyes narrowed while zoomed into his that were now wide. I felt daffy and melodramatic for going there, but those feelings couldn
’t rival my sprouting revelation. “Did you not use condoms with me that week?”

Flashes of the ambiance of Cayman course my fuzzy mind that’s still clearing from my recent orgasm. Rapid visions of the master suite catching the fluorescence of the moon when I was able to open my eyes from the bliss I floated in while Stenton was behind me, plunging deep. Or the rays from the early sun piercing my closed lids while he rocked on top of me during a morning greeting. All those times he was more verbal with his
ascensions, yet less talkative in coaxing in my ear. Those sessions were far more intense, though shorter.

His translucent fluids are now spilling from me, something I’ve never felt. Then I recall how during those times, he’d always carry me to the bath or shower, immediately. I catch and swallow back the bile that shoots up through my esophagus.

Once I’m able to speak, I breathe, “You deliberately didn’t use condoms. You got me pregnant on purpose.”

“Hold up. Wait. Wait!” Stenton
barks then squeezes his eyes as he grimaces. But with each passing second, my premonition gets stronger and stronger.

“Why haven’t you asked for a DNA test?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve gone through all the formalities of apologizing to my family and paying them off for renting my pussy...made generous arrangements
to compensate me for my condition, but you never once asked me to verify that Jordan was your child.”

Stenton looks sick.
Like really sick. Like sick enough to vomit.

And he does, right here on the steps.

Holy mother of Joseph!