I took baby steps toward the door and yelled, “Who is it?”

“It’s the back cracker!”

An instant smile covered my face. I put the knife down on the table in my foyer and opened the door. “Hey, baby!” I leapt into Yardley’s arms and locked my ankles around his waist. I was only wearing a Dallas Cowboys T-shirt and no panties. “I thought you had company?”

“I did. I kicked them out.”

We shared a passionate kiss.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I told him as he carried me into my bedroom.

“No, but I wanted to. I’d rather spend all my free time with you anyway.” He laid me down and buried his head in my neck. “You look better, you smell better…” He licked my earlobe. “And you taste better.”

“Does that mean you taste your friends?” I teased.

“What do you think?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. We women have to pay special attention to certain comments men make; since the word is out about the undercover bisexuals.”

Yardley frowned. “Not a damn thing funny about that.”

I giggled. “It is to me. You never know. Your boy Felix, the player, might be putting on a serious front.”

Yardley couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that would be wild, but I’ve known Felix all his life and if they locked him up in prison for the rest of it, he’d fuck imaginary pussy before he touched a dick other than his own.”

“So did you come over here to talk or give me some dick action?” I asked jokingly.

“Oh, I’ll give you some dick action, alright.” He started pulling my T-shirt over my head. “But not with this ugly ass shirt on, traitor.”

Yardley took off all his clothes and started licking every inch of me. As I gazed at him licking and sucking every inch of my body, his dick throbbing and glistening in the moonlight coming in through my bedroom window, I still felt a twinge of guilt about what had happened between Ruiz and me earlier at Chance’s. There was simply no comparison. I’d been a fool. Everything about Yardley. His touch. His tongue. His dick. Everything was nature-made just for me.

There are two ways to live your life.

One is as though nothing is a miracle.

The other is as though everything is a miracle.

—Albert Einstein

Twenty-nine

Yardley

Two Months Later, June 2004

I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for my parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. The weather was beautiful; life was beautiful. Rayne was beautiful.

We were all gathered at the Atrium at Treetop for the surprise party Rayne and I had helped Mom plan for Dad. The florist had really come through with breathtaking floral arrangements and Mom had never seemed happier. My parents had completely accepted Rayne and Mom had even kept in contact with Arjay; checking on her via phone to make sure she was okay. It’s funny how mutual love of a person can make two completely opposite people closer. Such was the case with Mom and Arjay. In fact, Rayne had a surprise coming her way also. I’d arranged to fly her mother up for the party. I was putting her up at the Hilton, though. I didn’t want Rayne to feel uncomfortable with her mother in her place. I started to plan for Rayne to stay with me, but didn’t want t

o seem presumptuous; even though we were spending most nights together anyway. There were times when it felt like Rayne wanted to be alone.

Rayne was helping Mom get dressed and I was waiting outside for Dad to pull up. Uncle Clifton, his brother, was bringing him by the building on the pretense that I was considering opening a second chiropractic clinic in Maryland. The atrium was on the roof of an office building.

When they pulled up, Dad was waving. I waved back and then waited for them to park and walk toward me.

“Nice building, Son,” Dad said, giving me a stiff handshake. “Thanks for making me feel special by including me in your decision.”

Out the corner of my eye, I spotted one of his co-workers pulling up in a Ford pickup. I embraced my father and then used my hand to wave his friend off. He did a U-turn and headed back up the street. We’d been adamant about telling people to come early enough to already be hiding in the building when Dad and Uncle Clifton got there. That’s the tricky thing about surprise parties; rarely are they truly a surprise.

Tags: Zane Erotic
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