Avenging Alex (7 page)

Jamilah sat on a bench in a neighborhood park, reading and soaking in the afternoon sun, rocking Cerena back and forth in her stroller. She lowered her reading glasses and smiled as she spied the older gentlemen she'd met in the market approaching. He smiled too.

“I was hoping to find you here.”

“How are you, Mr. Obafemi?”

“Ah, ah, ah . . . Please, call me Ade.”

Jamilah nodded politely. “How are you today, Ade?”

“I am much better now that I'm seeing you.”

Jamilah's eyes smiled as she readjusted on the bench to allow the man to sit. He removed his cap and his sponge of white hair sprung up from beneath it. He sat, boyishly twirling the cap in his hand as if wanting to say something but not sure how to begin.

“What are you reading?”

Jamilah turned the cover of the book over to show him. “It's a collection of poetry by Phillis Wheatley.”

He looked off in the distance. “My Busola loved poetry. She was a schoolteacher, you know.”

“Is that right?”

“I used to love for her to read to me. Her voice was so calming. Much like yours.”

“Thank you.” Jamilah smiled amiably, closed her eyes, and turned her face upward toward the radiance of the sun. “It is a beautiful day.”

“Yes, it is very nice,” Ade responded. “Your granddaughter seems to be taking advantage of the time to have a nap.”

“You should be glad she's sleeping, otherwise, she would be trying to talk your ears off.”

“I would welcome the conversation. How old did you say she was?”

“She'll be nine months this May. She started taking her first steps just recently.”

“You must be very proud.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I have a two-year-old grandson who I have not seen since he was born, but my daughter sends pictures.” Ade gazed off over the park. “I miss my family very much. My daughter and son-in-law have tried many times since my wife died to get me to move to Chicago to live with them.”

“Why didn't you go?”

“Because my Busola is buried here, and I wanted to stay close to her.”

“I understand.”

Ade cleared his throat and turned back to Jamilah. “Would you mind terribly reading something to me from your book?”

Jamilah girlishly brushed the loose strands of silver behind her ears and leafed through her book for an appropriate passage.

Ade turned to her as if he'd summoned the courage to ask what it seemed he'd wanted to all along. “Miss Janette, I would be most honored if you were to join me for dinner tomorrow night.”

Jamilah sat contemplating the invitation. She hadn't had a suitor in quite some time. He was alone and so was she. They were both from Nigeria and appeared to have a lot in common despite the fact that he was almost ten years her senior. She welcomed the companionship and why shouldn't she? With the exception of the three elderly women she met with on occasion to play bid whist, all the friendships she'd cultivated over the years were now dissolved back in boroughs of the Bronx. There was no telling what was made of her disappearance. And there was absolutely no reason she couldn't try to make the best of this fortuitous encounter.

“Ade, I would like very much to have dinner with you.”

“Where would you like to go?”

“Where would you like to take me?”

“Well, there is a very nice restaurant not too far from here. The Café Mundial. Have you been there?”

“No, I haven't as yet.”

“I have a car. I could pick you up. Is six o'clock too early?”

“My daughter has to work. I don't think she will get home until seven.”

“Then shall we say seven-thirty?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Jamilah's acceptance seemed to put Ade at ease. He leaned back on the bench and she opened her book and found another sonnet to read to him. He closed his eyes and was quieted by the warmth of her voice.

It was nearing closing time at La Bella. Other than a few words about various business transactions, Margot had done her best to avoid conversing with Alex for most of the day; which had not gone unnoticed by Celeste, the silver-haired, cosmetically enhanced trendsetter who owned the boutique. She cornered Margot in the stockroom when she went to collect her purse from her locker.

“Margot, are you feeling all right?”

“Yes. I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

“You've not been your usually bubbly self today, that's all. There seems to be quite a bit of tension between you and Adriane. Is there anything going on that I need to know about?”

“No. Everything's fine. Do you need me to hang around until you lock up?”

“It's all right. I'll take care of it.”

The two women emerged from the back room as Alex was headed for the door.

Celeste waved. “Good night, Adriane.”

“Good night, Celeste. I'll see you in the morning.”

Margot hurried to catch up to Alex as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Adriane, wait up.”

Alex stopped and turned toward her.

Margot fidgeted with her chunky necklace. “I, uh, I wanted to . . . I wanted to apologize for the other night. After I thought about it I felt so embarrassed about the way I acted. I thought that you might have said something to Celeste. I really can't afford to lose this job.”

“You don't have to worry about anything like that with me. What you do when you're not at work is your business. I thought you were giving me shade all day because I skipped out.”

“That's funny,” Margot responded. “I thought you left because of the things I said to you.”

“I'm a big girl, Margot. Why don't we just chalk this up to miscommunication and leave it at that?”

“That works for me. Thanks for being so cool about it. So, I'll see you tomorrow then?”

Alex nodded and proceeded to her car. She was surprised to find John waiting for her there. “Two Chases in one week,” Alex scoffed. “I must've hit the lottery.”

John's brow furrowed at Alex's sardonic comment. “What do you mean two Chases?”

“Your wife was here shopping a couple of days ago.”

“Lorraine?”

“Unless you have another one hidden away somewhere. Petite, red hair, blue eyes. I have to say she was not quite what I expected.”

“You mean because she's white.”

“It does seem to play into every stereotype I ever heard, a good-looking black man, a perky white trophy wife.”

John flashed back on what had transpired between him and Lorraine in the middle of the living room floor. He thought he could push the incident down somewhere in the recesses of his mind, where such things are more surreal than reality.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you here, John?” Alex looked upward into the sky. “No Bat-Signal. So, feel free to take the night off.”

“Maybe I'm not here to protect you. Maybe I need you to protect me this time.”

“From what exactly?”

“Myself. I'm afraid that not seeing you every day makes me feel a little bit crazy.”

“Oh, please.”

“Yeah, I know. That didn't sound as lame in my head.”

“Then maybe that's where it should've stayed,” Alex responded.

John smiled mannishly. “You're not going to cut me any slack, are you?”

“Should I?”

“I was hoping you would. I thought I might hear from you yesterday. I kinda got used to worrying about you.”

“I thought this was a rescue mission to save you.”

“It is. You could save me from eating alone if you would agree to have dinner with me.”

Alex sighed. “It's been a long day. I need to get home.”

“Do you want company?”

“I was trying to make a conscious effort to give you your space, John. Keeping whatever this is as professional as possible.”

“How's that workin' for you?”

“Apparently about as well as it is for you.”

“Look, I can't stop thinking about you. I know what I'm opening myself up to, but the bottom line is I'm attracted to you.”

Alex sidestepped him and tried to open the door to her car. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him. “I'm not going to let you jump in your car and go speeding off again, leaving me standing here to pick up my pride. I'm not going to press the issue either.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“I had a few beers with my brother.”

“Needed a little liquid courage?”

John sighed and rubbed his hand over his head and face. “Well, I'm not blaming it on the alcohol.”

“Cute.” Alex smirked.

“Maybe it's the full moon,” John countered. “Maybe I just need to be straight up with you. Now, we can either be adults about it, or you can be childish. I thought you were more woman than that. Was I wrong?”

Alex cut her eyes and huffed. “You apparently don't know me as well as you think you do. I'm a lot more woman than you can handle, Inspector.”

“Then prove it.”

Alex tossed her purse onto the hood of her car, traced her fingers over the outline of his broad shoulders and the veins that popped from his muscular arms protruding from his T-shirt. She licked her lips seductively as her hands stroked his chest, and she pressed her body into his, fondling his hardening erection.

“So, is that a yes to the company?”

“I haven't made up my mind yet,” she whispered.

John leaned in and kissed her. Long. Hard. Passionate. “Does that help?”

“Are you sure you want to do this, John?”

“I know that I've wanted to do that for a very long time.”

“What about—”

He pressed his mouth onto hers again. “I think that if we don't go somewhere fast I'm going to take you in the bed of my truck and show you just how hard it's been for me to keep this thing professional.”

“I didn't think you were that kinky.”

“You don't believe me?” He pulled at the hem of her skirt to assert his claim and she slapped it away.

“Okay, okay. Why don't you come over to the house . . . for dinner?”

“Oh, yeah, I wanna eat, but what I have in mind I don't think we should be doing in front of your mother.”

“Then it's a good thing that Mama's going out with friends tonight.”

“I'll meet you back at your house.”

 

 

Alex exhaled as she drove away from the boutique and watched John following her from the rearview mirror. She was prepared to throw caution to the wind and give herself wholly to the temptation that had been courting her for months.

When she arrived home she was startled by the sight of a strange man in her living room. Ade courteously stood up, nodded to her, and straightened his tie.

“You must be Janette's daughter.” He extended his hand.

“Yes, I am.”

“I can see that you are just as lovely as your mother.”

“Where exactly is my mother?”

“She's getting dressed.”

“I'm sorry. Who are you?”

“Ade Obafemi.”

“Here you are, Omolola.”

Alex turned with a puzzled expression on her face.

“I see you've met Ade.”

“Mama, I assumed when you said you were going to dinner it was with one of the ladies down the street.”

“Why would you assume that, Omolola?”

John stepped in behind Alex and interrupted an uncomfortable moment.

“I thought we'd settled this,” Jamilah continued.

“I didn't mean that, Mama.”

John shifted his gaze between the two women and then looked at Ade suspiciously.

“Ade Obafemi,” he said, extending his hand to John.

“John Chase.”

“Mama, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Jamilah glanced at Ade, who smiled and nodded. She then followed Alex to her bedroom.

“Before you say anything, Ade is a nice man,” Jamilah started.

“He's the man you met at the market?”

“Yes,” Jamilah huffed. “He's the widower. He's from Nigeria. He's been in this country for twelve years. He has two children, a son who still lives in Abuja, and a daughter who lives in Chicago.”

Alex brushed her hand over her mouth. “Mama.”

“Do you want his social security number and blood type, too, or is that enough information for you?” Jamilah snapped. “He's lonely just like me, and we're just going to have dinner.”

An awkward silence seeped between them.

“I'm sorry, Mama. I know you're lonely. I'm sorry I made you feel like you were being interrogated. I don't have the right to dictate who you can go out with.”

“I'm glad you understand that, daughter.”

“If you say he's a good guy I trust your instincts.”

Jamilah opened her arms and Alex melted into her embrace. “Thank you, Omolola.”

“So, where is Mr. Obafemi taking you?”

“The Café Mundial.”

“That's a nice restaurant.”

“I should probably get back in there before John drives him off. Cerena's been fed. I put her down about an hour ago.”

“Thank you, Mama. You go. Have a good time.”

“I will.”

As their roles reversed, Alex stood at the door and watched Jamilah ride off with her date. John walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I sent a text to Harley and asked him to run a check on your mother's friend.”

“Am I crazy to be concerned?”

“No. You're not.” John swept the hair away from Alex's neck and licked and kissed it.

“What are you doing?”

“Picking up where we left off.”

He pulled her back into the house and closed the door. His mouth found hers and their tongues and lips fervently intermingled. She yanked at his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. His heartbeat kept time with her intensified breathing. They continued to kiss and giggle like horny teenagers, bumping into walls as she led him to her room.

“Shhhh,” she cautioned him. “Don't wake the baby.”

He teetered from one foot to the other, kicking off shoes and quickly shedding his jeans and socks.

“Well, that answers that question,” Alex teased.

“What question is that?”

“Whether you wore boxers or briefs.”

“I could show you something that these boxers can't contain.”

“I can already see that, too.”

He removed his watch and laid it on the bureau and grabbed her and spun her around. She released a small yelp and pressed into his groin. His large hands gently caressed her stomach and cupped her breasts, kneading them like putty. She moaned appreciatively as he brushed his face over the curve and nape of her neck, simultaneously sliding the straps of her camisole off her shoulders. He backed up slightly, taking his time unzipping her skirt, and pushed it away from her hips. He ran his hands seductively down her body, and slid her panties down far enough to allow his fingers ample access to massage her clitoris. Alex threw her head back and moaned as his exploration took on a life of its own. Her legs trembled. She backed up into the wall for balance, nearly knocking down a framed picture as he kissed and licked a trail over her body, until his lips and tongue came to suck the upper part of her fleshy thighs.

“Oh shit,” she sighed.

He licked and tongued his way into the most sensitive recesses of her vaginal walls until she shuddered into orgasm, grabbing his bald head and pulling it closer into her.

“Shit! Shit!” she moaned.

He wriggled free of his boxers and his penis danced buoyantly between his legs as he crouched back down to finish what he'd begun. She pulled her hair and held her breath to stifle a scream as another orgasm burned through her. They were jarred by the ringing vibration of his cell phone.

“Don't answer it,” she pleaded.

“It could be about the guy your mother is with.”

John pulled away and finagled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He looked back at Alex and winked as he licked her juices from his fingers. Breathlessly, Alex peeled herself off the wall, ambled over to the bed, and lay back, waiting as he read the text. “What did it say?”

“Apparently Ade Obafemi seems to be exactly who he says he is. He has a son in Nigeria. Daughter in Chicago. Your mother is in good hands.” He removed a condom from his pocket, tossed the phone onto the pile of clothes on the floor, then climbed on the bed between her legs. “And so are you.”

“If I ever doubted it before I don't anymore, Inspector.”

He extracted the condom from its packet and teased her with a look as he rolled it on. “I want you so damn much.”

Alex coquettishly spread her legs farther apart. “Then what are you waiting for? Bon appétit.”

John lowered himself on top of her and smothered her with tender kisses as he worked his manhood into position. He rose up and balanced on the palms of his hands, purposefully staring into her eyes. His hungry penis glided over her wet hole, teasing it into submission until it seemed to scream for his entry. He slowly worked his way inside inch by delicious inch. She gasped and quivered, accepting all of him. He was deliberate and methodical, rhythmic, thrusting only fast enough to teeter on the brink of ejaculation and then pulling out and reentering. It was slow, sweet torture. Alex clawed at his back and dug her nails into his butt cheeks as she came again. Finally, he launched into a fevered pitch. His loins tightened and his tempo quickened. There was no more holding back.