Authors: Ruthie Robinson
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #African American
“You got all that from one ride home on a plane?”
“Yes. It’s in the way you carry yourself.” He looked
over her face, taking in its shape and smoothness. Her
lips had been imprinted in his mind, full and soft. That
was why he’d called her. “Law school is really demanding,
and the last thing I need is a distraction. You have the
potential to be a major one. I’d only end up disap
pointing you,” he added.
“Okay,” Reye replied. “So why
“I couldn’t forget these,” he said, and he softly
touched her lips with his finger.
Stephen sat down his beer, one hand still holding
hers. Removing the beer from her hand, he sat it down
next to his. His arms snaked around her waist as he
pulled her to him for a kiss. It was soft, his lips barely touching hers, testing her response. She moved her arms
to surround his neck and the kiss changed, became more passionate. She opened her mouth for him, both of them
tasting beer as their tongues touched tentatively.
Reye pulled back and looked at him, although she
wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see. A part of her knew
she needed to slow down. What did she really know
about him? He called and she came, not a good move on
her part, and now he’d just told her he wasn’t looking for
a serious relationship. She ignored that voice, seeing in
his gaze a desire equal to her own. Lifting her in his arms,
he pulled her from her chair and placed her in his lap.
She sat facing him, legs straddling his. His hands moved
to her waist and slid upwards towards her breasts. He was
glad that she had chosen to wear a dress. It was soft, and
she looked very pretty in it. The feel of her body softly
encased in it was sexy as hell. Her breath hitched at the
touch of his hands on her breasts and he watched her give
in to the pleasure, slowly pulling her in for another kiss.
This is what he’d been wanting since the parking lot,
and he’d felt an equal yearning in her. Continuing the
soft, open-mouth kisses, he played with her tongue,
learning the texture of her mouth. They spent seconds,
minutes maybe, exploring each other’s mouth. He started
to pull away, and Reye snagged his lower lip, gently
pulling him back to her, and the intensity of the moment
changed, becoming more charged. His hands roamed
over her body, not landing on a spot long before they
moved on to another place. They traveled over her
breasts, her shoulders, her face, and downward, to stop at
the curve of her ass. Here they glided over until they trapped her in each hand.
He wanted her closer and pulled her hips to his,
spreading her legs wide so that she sat in a position that
could stimulate them both. She felt him through his
jeans, hard and strong. Shifting and rocking her hips for
ward and backward, he rubbed her against him. His jeans
were rough against her, so her hands worked their way to
the button at his waist. She opened it and lowered the
zipper of his jeans, pulling back the sides to get even
, she thought as she pushed herself
loser to him. She could feel him through the cloth of his boxers, the hardness of him underneath her. Forward and
backward he moved her, as close to him as she could be
with clothes on.
Tuning out his surroundings, Stephen focused on the
movement of her hips as they slid over him, unable to sense anything but this. Jesus! He was going to come,
outside, fully clothed, and he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stop.
He kissed her harder, and his hands turned forceful as
they pushed and pulled her over him. Reye moaned long
and low into his mouth as she came. His breathing
increased as he continued to move her, up and back, his
grip on her ass firm. Seconds later, his body grew stiff and
he growled into her mouth.
Reye had no idea what to say, to herself or to him.
She lay on his chest for a second to regroup. Did she just do what she thought she’d just done, outside for anyone
and everyone to see? His hand moved to her waist to
steady her as she lifted herself off of him. She stood and
straightened her dress and he moved to zip up his jeans.
“Is there a bathroom around here?” she asked, feeling
awkward and needing to gain control.
“What?” he asked as he stood up beside her.
“Bathroom,” she repeated.
“Oh, yeah, there is one by the pool over there in the
cabana.” He looked as unsettled as she felt, pointing his arm toward the back of the yard.
“I’ll be back.” She turned and walked toward the back of the house. She could see a small cabana in the distance,
at the end of a large pool.
tephen sat down, elbows on his knees. He ran his
hand over his face and through his hair. When was the
last time that had happened? He hadn’t dry humped
anyone since middle school. He continued to sit, staring
out at the cabana, waiting for Reye.
“Hey, dude, out here enjoying the night air?” he
heard someone ask. Jumping at the intrusion, he looked up sharply to see Joe standing several steps away. How
long had he been standing there? Joe was another frat
brother, one that he didn’t care for much. “I saw your
friend leave, what’s her name?” he asked, pretending to
remember. “What I wouldn’t do for a piece of ass like
that. I can see you’ve been partaking in the delights of
Reye. That’s her name, I remember now.”
“Go away, Joe.”
“Dude, is that the way to treat a fellow frat brother?
What do you think, Stephen, any truth to that saying
that once you go black, you never go back?” he said, laughing at his own joke.
“It’s not like that,” Stephen said.
“You know what I’m talking about, dude, don’t pre
tend that you weren’t out here with her just now. I saw
you. Hey, I understand, dude. I’m totally feeling you
with the black girl booty call thing. I hear they can be
really freaky in bed, and, if tonight is any indication, you
have your hands full.”
They both looked up as Reye cleared her throat. She’d
been standing there listening to them, her face now
etched in stone.
hey turned to her, Joe with a smirk on his face,
Stephen’s face apologetic.
“I’d better get going,” she said as she stepped up on
“Hello,” Joe said, walking toward her with his hand outstretched. “I’m Joe. We met earlier in the house. Glad
you could make it to our party.”
Reye didn’t respond to his greeting, nor did she shake
his hand. His face hardened. “Well, I guess I’ll be going
so you and Stephen can finish up here. You know if
Stephen is not up to meeting your needs, feel free to call
Stephen moved to stand in front of Reye, blocking
her from Joe’s view. “Leave now, Joe!”
“No worries, man, I’m gone,” replied Joe, walking away.
“I’m sorry, Reye, he’s an asshole.” Looking over her
face he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Sure, I’m fine, but I do need to get home,” she said
“Where did you park? I’ll walk you out.”
“No need, I’m good.”
“I’m walking you to your truck, Reye, end of
“Fine,” she said sharply.
Sensing anger and resistance in her stance, he reached
for her hand. She pulled it away. He turned to leave and she followed him. She was angry, it was evident in the
stiffness of her posture and the briskness of her walk.
They walked through the backyard, around the side of
the house, and out toward the street.
“Where did you park?” he asked again.
“Just down the block at the parking lot, and you
really don’t need to walk me. I can make it by myself,” she said.
He ignored her and continued down the street
toward her truck. The crowd of students that had been
there earlier had moved inside. It was now quiet. You
could see them through the windows, dancing and
drinking. Neither of them spoke during the walk to her
“This is it,” she said, walking to stand next to the
driver’s side of her truck. Stephen put his hand on the truck’s door, preventing her from opening it. Boxing her
in, using his arms, body, and the door, he waited until she raised her face to his. She stood, arms folded and crossed,
silent. He read hurt and anger in those beautiful brown
eyes and felt awful.
“I’m glad you came tonight, and I wish I had called sooner. I’m sorry for the things Joe said back there. They
are offensive to me. His views aren’t mine,” he said.
“Have you ever dated anyone who isn’t white before?”
she asked sharply, eyes on his face.
“So why now? Experimenting?” Not waiting for a
response, she continued, “You know what, let’s put this
one on me, my mistake, my bad,” she said, in full tirade
mode. “I don’t want to be anyone’s experiment, booty
call, or whatever. It was my fault I came. What did I
expect? I like you, thought you liked me, but I can see
that this was not a good idea!”
Stephen let her rant, and when he’d heard enough he
leaned in and put his lips to hers.
“Shhhh,” he said against them. “I want to see you
“Don’t think so,” she said, leaning back.
For a moment neither moved nor spoke. Reye looked
everywhere but at him and eventually he backed up. She
opened her door, slammed it closed, started her truck, and left.
* * *
The next day, Stephen called her. “Hi, Reye, what’s
up?” He tried going for casual and friendly in his tone.
“I wanted to tell you that I had a good time last
“Great,” she responded, her tone flat.
“Would you like to see a movie this weekend?”
“No thanks. I’ve got a lot of studying to do. You
know how things can be at the beginning of a semester,
right?” she said.
“Sure.” Dismissed, he thought to himself, but he’d give her a little more time and try again.
Reye was slowly getting used to working with the
children at the center. There were seven of them who
attended every day. Anthony, Eric, and Jésus were
Hispanic. Shondra, Tyson, and Deetric, D for short, were
African-American. Shane was the lone Caucasian. They
all needed varying degrees of tutoring in reading, writing,
and math. They all had distinct personalities.
Anthony was the youngest and shortest of the group
and all energy, like a tornado. He was funny, a happy kid,
already working on his playa status. She imagined him
growing up to be a heartbreaking, multi-tasking adult.
Shondra was the only girl in the group and had rap
idly reformed Reye’s understanding of divas. She now
understood that divas were born, not made over time, as
she’d originally believed. Ms. Shondra was a little
African-American princess with long hair, usually worn
in multiple pigtails. She was all sass and ruled the world
with an iron hand, or at least the boys in the class.
Shane was the student she’d worried over the most.
He’d fallen way behind in his classes at school, requiring
a big portion of her attention. He was a sweet kid,
painfully shy, and one who could get easily lost in school.
She’d hoped to talk to his parents so they could coordi
nate their efforts. Reye had called his mother at the only
umber listed on his application. She hadn’t received a response yet. Reye knew from experience that being the
only anything, anywhere was tough. She’d attended pri
vate schools where, with few exceptions, she’d been the
‘only one’, so she felt a specific kinship with Shane.