‘Hi,’ I greet breathlessly.
He leans over and kisses me. I’ll say this for him: the man can kiss. In seconds I want to throw my arms around his neck, curl my fingers in his hair, and climb over to his side of the car to lower myself on to his thick cock. My skin tingles. My head starts buzzing. My hand strays to his hard chest.
‘What was that for?’ I whisper, when he breaks away.
His eyes are smoky with desire. He places his finger on my lower lip and drags it along my skin. His voice drops to a faux whisper that caresses my skin. ‘Because you’re so damn beautiful.’
I drop my eyes and go all hot and red with sheer happiness.
He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face. ‘Isn’t that what all the boys who aren’t afraid of your brother tell you?’
My stomach flips. ‘I think there are more boys afraid of my brother than you think.’
‘Since I’m not in the firing line yet, let me tell you, Layla. You’re one hell of a beauty.’
‘You’re not so bad looking yourself,’ I say shyly.
‘Me? I’m an ugly mug. You, you’re another matter. You truly are the beginning of intoxication.’
‘That reminds me, how is it you know so much about my name. Even I thought Layla meant of the night in Arabic.’
‘Because I researched it, Princess.’
‘Is that why you bought a tiepin with the word Layla on it?’
His face closes over.
I frown. ‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ He turns away and starts the engine. ‘So Lily is having a homebirth. When?’
‘Well,’ I say settling myself into the seat. ‘The baby is not due for another three weeks.’
‘And Jake is OK with a homebirth?’
‘Oh, he didn’t like it one bit at first, but being the total control freak that he is, he went out and offered the best midwife in England so much money she is going to uproot her entire family, 3 kids no less, to go and stay at his house two weeks before the baby is due. From what I understand, the poor woman will be virtually a prisoner until the baby is born. Of course he’s also hired a whole medical team to be on standby just in case there’s any kind of complication.’
He laughs. ‘That sounds more like him.’ He sobers suddenly. ‘When do you plan to tell him about us?’
It is my turn to sober up. ‘I want to tell him, but he’s so happy at the moment. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so full of laughter. Can you believe he sings to his baby?’
He turns to look at me briefly, his eyebrows raised.
‘I just don’t want to spoil this time for him. I’ll tell him after the baby is born.’ I pause for a second. Then, I don’t know why, perhaps I am testing him, I add, ‘If we are still together by then.’
His face registers no change, but his hands tighten on the wheel. ‘OK,’ he says tightly. ‘We wait until after the baby is born, but if I am in a position where he asks me outright I’m not going to lie.’
‘That’s fair enough.’
After that we talk of things outside of us. Some of it is light and easy and I laugh a lot, but I come to realize quickly that BJ sees everything from a totally different perspective than me. A much darker, more cynical perspective. He is my total opposite in every way. We disagree on almost all the important aspects of life. He seems to be without the usual social pretensions that normal people indulge in. To start with, he doesn’t have a Facebook page. He thinks all social media is narcissism gone berserk. He is of the opinion that only birds should tweet. Having 865 Internet friends is ludicrous. And wait for it … he has never taken a selfie!
He says he will go back to church again when someone explains where black people came from since Adam and Eve were both lily white. He believes that people should not be trusted since the strongest human traits—greed, jealousy, envy, cruelty—are inborn and already active even in children. Humans have to be taught kindness, generosity, patience, and goodness. BJ believes those traits can only be a thin veneer for the real truth, a cauldron of negative emotions.
‘So you don’t trust me?’ I ask him, my voice is light, my manner is flirtatious, but in fact I am really curious as to what he will say.
He throws a brief glance at me. ‘Where does your mother think you are now?’
‘With Maddy,’ I say slowly.
‘Have I answered your question?’
‘Is there no one you trust?’
‘Jeremy. I trust him.’
‘That’s sad, BJ.’
He shrugs carelessly. ‘Save your sympathy. I set it up like this because I like it this way.’
‘BJ, isn’t your mother alive?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you don’t trust your own mother?’
‘Don’t get me wrong. I love my mother. I’d do anything for her but no, she hasn’t done much to inspire my trust.’
‘My God. What kind of childhood did you have?’
He gives me a sideways glance. ‘It wasn’t like yours.’
‘So you’ve never trusted anyone in your life?’
‘I trusted my father.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he always showed me his real face. At all times I knew exactly what he was and what I could expect from him.’
Then he is turning into Silver Lee. We go into the house and it is silent, but an amazing lunch has been set out on the dining table. It is almost like being in a fairy tale. Like in Beauty and the Beast when the father finds the deserted palace and a table set with a princely meal.
There is a note on the table. BJ picks it up and reads it.
I am so caught up in the Beauty and the Beast scenario I think that the note might be important. ‘What does it say?’ I ask curiously.
He passes it to me.
There is a tall jug of mojitos
waiting in the fridge.
Marcel
He looks at me, sexy smile on his face. ‘Well, what do you want to do first? Eat or fuck?’
If any other man had said that I’d have slapped him and called him a coarse jerk. But BJ, he’s the shining hero in the movie I’m directing, producing, and starring in.
And God! I want him.
‘Fuck,’ I say with half-closed, sultry eyes. Turning, I begin to walk away while undressing at the same time. The dark green top goes over my head and on the floor. My bra follows. I turn around and he is just behind me, staring at my breasts possessively. The desire to press my naked body against him is astonishingly strong, white-knuckle strong.
I lie on a long lilac couch and shimmy out of my skirt and panties. I am suddenly almost feverish with need. Daringly I open my legs wide. He gets down on his haunches and slides his hand up my leg, towards my distended, swollen clitoris. With precise, knowing strokes he rubs the flesh around it. His carnal expertise is irresistible.
I squirm and whimper.
It has never crossed my mind that I would ever be so wild for a man.
He brings his head closer and I prepare for his tongue. Instead a flow of warm air hits my exposed sex.
‘Ah,’ I cry at the exquisitely delicate sensation. Like a fine wine or the faint earthy flavor of truffle shavings on a plate of buttery pasta. My eyes close to fully savor it. When his silky tongue touches my clit it is unexpected and shockingly intense. My body arches like a bow. He licks the pulsing flesh like a kitten. He slides his fingers deeper inside me and pumps them furiously. My body heats up and sweat dampens my skin. I grasp his hair and curl my legs around his large body, the way he taught me to.
‘Please,’ I beg.
He lifts his head and unlocking my legs, opens me wide. He stands and looks down at me splayed and ready for him. With heavy-lidded eyes he starts to undress. He discards his pants and my gaze moves to the well-defined, hard bulge in his white briefs. The thick mushroom head is already poking out of the top of his underwear. He stops. My eyes move up to his and hot blood rushes up my throat to be caught looking at his erection so hungrily. I h
ave never stared at a man like this. Not ever.
He fits a rubber on himself and, putting his hands on either side of me, mounts me. He pounds me hard a few times. There is something frenzied and electric about the urgency of his thrusts. I know then that he cannot wait any longer. I milk the cream of his body with my own and he explodes, his head thrown back and utterly silent.
For seconds his face is buried in my breasts. He might even have gently sucked my nipple, I am in a daze of contentment. Then he rouses himself and, looking into my eyes, brings me to climax.
‘You’re beautiful when you come,’ he whispers. His face is flushed and his eyes are the softest black.
Afterwards, we eat, but I find I have hardly any appetite. Every time his eyes rest on me, I feel my lack of underwear, how wet I am, and how much I long to have him back inside me.
Maddy’s call interrupts our total absorption with each other. She tells me my mother is looking for me. I didn’t hear my phone while we were having sex. I look up at BJ. His eyes are expressionless. He listens to me call my mother and lie about where I am and what I am doing since I am not with Maddy after all. It is easy to lie to Ma. She isn’t expecting me to. I end the call and face him.
‘I’ll get the mojitos,’ he says and walks away. Strange. He is the criminal and yet he is the more honorable of us.