An Arrangement of Love (10 page)

“Just let your guard down for a few minutes.” He grabbed the end of my dress and yanked it up and over my behind. I gasped as he massaged my panties. My sex clenched in response. My nipples hardened. That scent of his surrounded me—new leather mixed with vanilla.
Fuck it.
I rubbed my fingers through his silky hair. Each time his tongue entered my mouth I sucked. And I was sure my panties were drenched from my arousal.

“I’d be the best you ever had.” He slipped his hands around my side and dove them into my panties. “Because I’d do whatever you asked me to and more.”

Hell yes. Touch me.
I let my head fall back right as his fingers made contact with my throbbing bud.

“Damn it, Jasmine,” Chase said. “You say I’m selfish and you stand next to me this wet, pretending like you don’t want me.”

“You’re too complicated.”

“Am I complicated now?” He tenderly clutched my clitoris between his fingers.

“No,” I groaned and arched my hips into his hands.

He smiled. His fingers encircled my flesh, but made no further move. “What do you want?”

“Touch me.” I closed my eyes.

“I’m already touching you, baby.” His fingers added a tiny bit of pressure. “Tell me what else you want.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can’t. It’s against the rules. All I can do right now is touch you, no licking or anything else.” He nipped at my chin and shoved a finger inside me. “Give my arrangement a try for a few weeks.”

“No.”

He shoved another finger inside me. His thumb rubbed up and down my clitoris as his fingers slid in and out of my wet tunnel. “Please.”

“N-no.” I rocked into his hands as the crowd applauded around us. I doubted anyone saw us, but I also didn’t care. I wanted him. Pleasure swelled and rose inside of me until I thought my whole body would explode. I struggled to hold in a moan as I ground into his hand. The whole area between my legs swelled and ached under his attention.

“Damn it,” he groaned. “Try it for a week.”

“I can’t.”

He pushed a third finger inside me. “You’re seconds from coming all over my fingers and still you say no?”

I dug my nails into his shoulders as lusty pleasure filled me and captured all of my senses—his fingers pounding inside me, his scent enclosing me like a cocoon, and his voice smooth like silk. The mounting need rose, beat against my flesh, and then pushed me to climax.

“Chase!” I screamed. Music sounded right on time, a hard-hitting drum against a saxophone melody. The crowd clapped and chanted some lyrics with the spoken word artist on the stage. I ground into Chase’s hands some more, squeezing my behind and showing no restraint.

“Yes, baby.” Chase sped up his thumb’s caresses. “Show me how much you like it.”

The music’s volume increased. An intense orgasm crashed into me with another flicker of his fingers.
Good god. He’s too much to handle.
Never had anyone manipulated me this way and it scared the crap out of me. In college, men less than his worth had me doing their bidding. Chase could make me come with his fingers in a matter of seconds. After that thought, terror soared in me. I needed to stay away from Chase. Any more moments like this and I’d drown in his life, will, and desires. I would lose myself the whole time.

He targeted me with an intimidating gaze and removed his fingers with gentle ease. “I won’t stop until you’re under my roof in Willow Park and in my bed.”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

“Until that time no one will taste this but me.” He sucked on the fingers he’d just had in me.

“W-we’re not together.” I shook my head.

“Your body says something else.”

God. I’m so pathetic. What was I thinking? That I would let him finger me and then stand my ground as not being interested in him?

I yanked my panties up my shaking legs. “I . . . will be right back.”

I pulled down my dress and fled, without waiting for his reply. Rounding the darkened corner, the bathroom doors showed up on my right. I raced past them and pushed through the back doors.

Oh God, what is he going to say when he realizes I’m not coming back?

Chapter 10

A
pounding thumped over
and over in my head. I popped two Advil and spent the rest of the morning drinking glasses of water to combat the dehydration from my hangover. The living room’s darkness blanketed me. One of my favorite old films,
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, played on the screen.

“Why is it so dark in here?” Vivian strolled out of her bedroom in black yoga pants and a white tank top. When she got to the blinds, she yanked them open. “That’s better. It’s such a lovely day today.”

Sunlight streamed through and blinded me. I covered my face with a pillow. “I hate you.”

“Are we going for a run today? I’m thinking at least five miles.”

“Die,” I said. “Die slow and in a river of blood and pain!”

“That sounds like a yes to me.” She skipped into the kitchen. Banging sounded soon after. I shut my eyes as Vivian’s loud kitchen musical began. The fridge slammed close. Dishes crashed to the counter. She stomped around, whistling some god-awful tune the whole time. Chopping came next and then the blender buzzed.

“Must you be so loud?” I yelled.

“It’s twelve o’clock in the afternoon and perfectly normal to make noise at this time.”

“Well, my roommate was up all night having noisy sex with her boyfriend—”

Plates crashed to the floor. I opened my eyes. She peered out from the kitchen. Her blonde hair swung back and forth in the doorway. A pink tint shaded her whole face.

“You were here? You heard everything?” she asked.

“Of course I was here. I live here, you know.”

“But I never heard you come in.” She went back into the kitchen. “Oh god, I can’t believe you heard that.”

“What’s the big deal?” I heard Noc and her all the time. Usually, pathetic groans from Noc drifted out of her room. Then the bed squeaked at a quick rhythm, and finally Noc’s snoring filled the apartment soon after. Last night, they had been adventurous. It was so noisy I finally resorted to plugging my ears with my headphones and listening to classical music until I fell asleep.

Vivian’s bedroom door opened. My brother stepped out in only his boxer briefs. “Morning, Sis.”

“Oh my god!” I buried my face in my pillow. “You both had sex? That was you and Vivian last night? Not Noc?”

Now I understood Vivian’s crazy reaction.
I’m traumatized.
I’d heard it all, the entire procession of passion—her screams, his grunting, the bed’s board slamming into the wall, and moaning from them both
. Eww
. And they never stopped. All night long it went on, over and over.
I’m going to throw up
. I’d been shocked because usually Vivian and Noc humped for a few minutes and then they both fell asleep.

The ridiculousness of this month will never cease.

“We didn’t know you were here,” Vivian called from the kitchen.

“Wait a minute, what about Noc?” I sat up on the couch. The sound of the blender’s buzzing returned.

“What about Noc? Who even cares?” Troy slumped down next to me on the couch. “Why are you hung over, Jazz?”

“How did you know I was hung over?” I asked. Troy pointed to everything on the coffee table—potato chips, Advil, Diet Sprite, boxes of tissue, and a just-in-case-I-throw-up bucket. I punched Troy on the chest. “Why would you have sex with Vivian? It makes everything difficult.”

“She’s sexy and I hadn’t been with a woman in four years.” He rubbed his bald head. “What did you expect?”

“I figured you would find someone else to do that with.” I dove my hand into the bag of chips, grabbed a handful, and stuffed myself. My mouth loaded with crispy and salty potato heaven.
What is it about potato chips that makes everything okay?
I looked down at the bag.

“You think sleeping with Viv was a bad idea?” Troy asked.

“Of course. Do you know how awkward it’s going to be around the house now?” I placed my bag of chips on the side opposite him so he wouldn’t take them from me. “Not to mention she’s with somebody. A guy who visits our place all the freaking time.”

“It’ll be no big deal.” Troy shrugged.

“Sure it won’t,” I muttered.

“What’s wrong with you? It’s not the end of the world.” Troy took the remote off my lap. “And what in god’s name are you watching, Sis? This movie looks stupid.”

“
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
is a classic.”

“
Wizard of Oz
is a classic, but it still sucks, Jazz.”

“What?” I tried to get the remote back. He moved it out of my reach and switched the channel to sports. I groaned with annoyance. “You have to be the only person in America to think the
Wizard of Oz
sucks.”

“More people hate it than you think.”

The blending stopped. Troy whispered in my ear. “She’s been acting weird all morning. She didn’t want me to cuddle with her.”

“Gee. I wonder if that has something to do with her having a boyfriend,” I muttered.

“I doubt it.” He slung his feet on the table. “She wasn’t thinking about him when I was stroking—”

“Don’t. I’m already sick.”

In the kitchen, the fridge slammed. Then water poured as the blender continued. Months ago, I’d bet Vivian fifty dollars she couldn’t be quiet in the apartment for an hour. I’d won in five minutes. It was just something in her personality that forced her to be noisy. She possessed a knack for touching things with as much racket as possible.

“I think she regrets what happened,” Troy whispered to me.

“Well, she sounded like she was enjoying herself, last night.” I scrunched my face in horror. “Eww, by the way. Thanks for that. I’ll be spending the rest of the month cleansing my mental rolodex of last night.”

“She hasn’t said more than two words since we woke up.”

A large part of me wanted to scream, “This is why you don’t sleep with your freaking best friend!” But, it wasn’t what he needed to hear. And who the hell was I to judge anyone after last night’s finger-and-escape debacle with Chase?

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. “Have you asked her if everything is okay?”

“No. I already know what’s wrong.”

“You do?”

He frowned. “I’m a black ex-convict with no real future.”

“Would you stop that? You have your whole life ahead of you. If anyone believes in you, it’s Vivian.”

Why hadn’t I seen this coming?
I always thought she had a crush on him, but she’d been denying it since we were kids. Even now, she had pictures of him in her top drawer. I’d found them last month when I was searching for her hidden Girl Scout cookie supply. She knew I had a serious addiction to Caramel Delights, so she buried them in secret spots in her room. Obviously, I never brought up the pictures, being that I was perusing her underwear drawer. Additionally, she always wrote him when he was in juvenile centers and later in jail. I’d figured she was just being nice, but I guess it was more than that.

“Yeah. Well, she’s tripping about something.” He switched through some channels when a commercial came on. “Maybe it’s her dad. You and I know I’m a decent guy, but Benny won’t think that if she told him we were together.”

“Benny loves the hell out of you. Plus, she doesn’t care about what her dad thinks. If she did, she wouldn’t be with Noc.” I slung my own feet on top of the table next to his. “By the way, Benny loves you but he’s going to kill you if he ever finds out.”

“Yeah.” Somehow Troy discovered another sports channel and increased the TV’s volume. “It’s probably best she’s acting weird. Nothing would’ve come out of it.”

“Meanwhile, I’ve been mentally harmed in the process.”

“Whatever. We thought you were still in the office working.”

I thought about what I’d actually been doing and clamped my mouth shut. Vivian carried two huge glasses full of brown sludge out. A rotting scent drifted from them.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m hung over and tired. I’m not running today.”

“Yes you are.” She set the glass down in front of me and avoided looking Troy’s way
. She is being weird
. I stared at the glass. It was her protein boost recipe. She blended two raw eggs, carrots, celery, collard greens, orange juice, honey, and soy milk together. The end result tasted exactly how one would think it would taste.
Disgusting!
My stomach rumbled with aversion. My phone buzzed.

Troy picked it up and checked the screen. “Who’s Dawn?”

Oh goodness. What did Chase’s fiancée want from me?

Troy showed me my phone and I pressed the button to see my message.

Dawn:
Let’s meet for lunch on Wednesday. You pick the place. My treat.

“Thanks. It’s not important. I’ll reply later.” I waved the phone away.

Troy put it back on the coffee table. My temples ached as I considered the many polite ways to say hell no to Dawn. There was no way I could meet her anywhere. Her fiancé’s fingers had done naughty things to me last night, things I could barely think about without shuddering. Even though he claimed they had an arrangement and it would be perfectly fine, I didn’t feel comfortable dealing with her. Lunch was out of the question.

“Who’s Dawn?” Vivian gulped her sludge. A brown liquid mustache covered the top of her lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“Dawn is Chase’s fiancée,” I mumbled.

Troy stared at the TV and didn’t look at Vivian. Meanwhile, Vivian only gazed my way as if no one else was in the room. “Why is she texting you?”

“I don’t know.”

Maybe Dawn wants to yell at me for what happened with Chase last night. Or maybe she wants to congratulate me and get a play-by-play account. Even worse, maybe she wants to finger me herself. Yikes! Who knows with those two weirdoes?

An arrangement of love. The very notion of having more than one committed relationship with more than two people and all of those rules boggled my brain. Only a rich person could truly get away with something so unusual, and only a spoiled narcissistic man could assume most women would participate in that foolishness.