Black Rainbow (6 page)

“Don’t yell at me!” she yelled back.

“I wouldn’t yell if you didn't scare the hell out of me. What are you doing in my house?” I demanded, trying to sound as though I were really angry.

“We were out of ice cream?” she replied, wobbling over to take a seat on the chair.

“So instead of going to the grocery store, like a normal person, you came over to steal mine?”

“You always sucked at sharing,” she replied, taking another spoonful.

I was tempted to snatch it back from her.

What kind of man takes away food from a pregnant woman?

“Bethan, please tell me you have a more logical reason to come here, or I swear I’ll call Tristan.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat? You’ll call my husband? Who do you think dropped me off here?”

I hated them both.

“Bethan—”

“Okay, okay. Tristan told me you’ve been sinning all over the city with a girl, and then she turned out to be one of your students.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you—”

“Levi, for thirty years you have been the good one, the smart one, the shining star, and I’ve never once faulted you for it, or even been jealous of you, because honestly, your life seemed to be a pain in the ass. But now, I’m a human incubator for a tiny person, which means my husband no longer lets me go to the bar I founded, because I scare away the customers. Mom keeps taking me out to buy me dresses with ruffles…
ruffles,
Levi. People are in my face every ten seconds, screaming about the joys of motherhood, and honestly, it feels like I’m dying. My feet hurt, I have to pee every twenty minutes, and I can’t drink. I’ve never been so bored in my whole life! So, I’m coming to you big brother, to cheer me up, or so help me, I will end up being the next person you will be defending in court, when I snap like a toothpick.”

When she snapped?

“Whatever you’re drinking, or whatever you smoked, you need to stop,” I said slowly, and she threw the couch pillow at me.

“Tell me about your one week, lover.”

“Of all the people you had to marry, why did it have to be my best friend?”

“Objection! Avoiding the question.”

Rolling my eyes at her, I laid back down
—
“We went out for a week. It was just pure fun, and then, the morning after the week was over, I saw her in my class, the end.”

“Why didn’t you kick her out? Isn’t that your “scary Professor” thing?”

“I tried, but she’s smart! If she were any other student, I’d seriously be interested in her career path.”

“Well, if it was just a one week thing, then you should both just move on like adults, right? And not let it mess things up.”

That’s right. So why couldn’t we—I— do that?

“So, then,” Bethan continued, “why’d you come in all gloomy?”

“Because I’m a masochist.”

“Too much information,” she cringed.

“I put her on a case I’m working on,” I told her. “I did it without even thinking about our situation. I was thinking about how I could use her to win the case. What’s worse is when she brought it up after class, she was so close to me, I wanted to—” I broke off my sentence, unable to say the truth of it out loud.

“So, maybe it wasn't just a one week thing.”

“It was,” I said quickly. “It has to be. We made that very clear from the start. One week of sex, and that was it.”

“So, that’s all you guys did for a week? Screw each other’s brains out?”

I paused, not wanting to relive our week in my mind while my sister sat on the chair staring intently at me. I chose my next words very carefully, trying my best to mask my emotions and not give too much away. “We didn’t have sex
all
the time.”

“Okay, let’s think of this in another way; if she wasn’t your student, would you have broken the one week thing and asked her out again?”

Fuck me. I would have. I had planned to.

I stared at my sister and made no effort to reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “None of it matters. She’s my student, I’m her professor. That’s as far as our relationship goes. She has promise, and I will see to it that she gets what she needs out of my class.”

Bethan remained quiet, then with careful deliberation she asked, “No, but seriously, what did she do to you in that week? I’ve never seen you act like this over anyone.”

That was the million-dollar question that even I didn’t have the answer to.

What had she done to me?

P A S T

D A Y 3

“You’ve got to be kidding me with this,” I laughed, opening his freezer. “And you were judging me for eating cereal.”

“I have a sweet tooth, what can I say?” he replied, as he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed my shoulder. “Pick your ice cream already.”

“There are so many choices,” I mused.

And the truth of the matter was that my reaction wasn’t unwarranted. Half of his freezer was stacked with every carton of ice cream that I could think of. They were all lined up perfectly as if we were at an ice cream parlor.

“Well, you can’t go wrong with chocolate,” he whispered, as he cupped one of my breasts through his shirt. I was always wearing his clothes now. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind.

“What?” he asked, as I stifled a laugh.

I reached in, grabbing a carton of vanilla instead, before wiggling out of his arms. “Nothing.”

“You're a horrible liar,” he said as he followed me into the living room. I jumped onto his grey couch… we had already broken it in at least four times.

“That comment you made about chocolate… it sounded like something out of an ‘80s porno.”

“Well excuse me! As a child of the ‘80s, I’m not sure what to say to that—”

“It’s alright,” I chided as I dipped my spoon into the carton, “but the ‘90s were so much better.”

He snorted, eating the ice cream off my spoon before I could. “Oh please! All that sex is messing with your head.”

“Are you kidding me? The cell phone—”

“There were cellphones in the ‘80s too, you know.”

“That giant rock that people carried around like cavemen does not count as a cellphone,” I informed him.

“My generation suffered so yours could have that nice flip phone,” he shot back. “In the ‘80s,
Madonna
was amazing, and so were
New Kids on the Block
. Plus, Will Smith became the fresh prince, and on top of that The Simpsons—”

“The Simpsons came out in 1989, that belongs to the ‘90s.”

“What come after the 19?” he tilted his ear to me.

“It’s called rounding up.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “The ‘80s had The Breakfast Club.”

Damn it.

“The ‘90s had The Breakfast Club 2.”

He paused for a moment, looking shocked— “Did you just compare the original Breakfast Club to its sequel?”

“Well you can’t just throw the Breakfast Club card on the table like that, at least wait until I list a few more ‘90s classics, you jerk.” I sulked, knowing I was beat.

“And I still had my Michael Jackson card to play, because
Thriller
was the shit.”

For some reason, I felt as though I’d let my whole generation down. Scowling, I stuffed my mouth full of ice cream. He looked at me, awaiting my comeback, but my brain was as frozen as the ice cream I was consuming.

“It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not saying the ‘80s win—”

He kissed me before I could finish.

Falling back against the arm of the couch, I wrapped my hand around his neck as he hovered on top of me.

“The ‘90s had you,” he said, his voice softer now.

“You’re buttering me up,” I pouted, as he undid the buttons of my shirt. “Smart move, Mr. Black.”

He grinned, already kissing down my chest— “I thought so too.”

Closing my eyes, I dropped the ice cream… he made me shiver more anyway.

She snored. It wasn’t loud, or obnoxious; it was kind of cute actually. She was wrapped up in the sheets, her legs peeking out slightly, and she held on to my arm as she slept, but I didn’t mind. It was odd that I didn’t mind. I really didn’t know much about her, but I found myself
wanting
to know her.

“I can feel you staring at me,’ she whispered, as she shifted beneath the sheets.

“You snore.”

“I do not!” she shot back immediately, sounding both embarrassed, and hurt at my remark.

I laughed. “You do.”

“I know,” she gave in with a laugh, as she covered her face with her hands.

I laughed along with her. Her laughter was infectious.

“It’s alright, it’s actually cute.”

She looked at me for a moment, like she was trying to read me, but with a little sigh, she gave up and rose from her position and stepped out of bed, taking the sheets with her.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay, then I’ll make us something to eat,” I said, already on my feet.

She paused turning back to me, “You cook too?”

“Yes?”

“Please tell me it’s like, only eggs or something.”

“What? No, I can cook.”

“Damn it, Levi, I like my men just under perfect, thank you!”

“Would you like me to burn one side of the toast?”

“You’d better.” She glared and I kissed her lips quickly.

“Don’t worry Thea, I’m nowhere near perfect.”

“So you say.”

She kissed me back once more before she headed into the bathroom.

“You’re amazingly weird, has anyone ever told you that?”

“It’s all part of my charm, Mr. Black.”

Snickering, I shook my head at her and headed into the kitchen, wondering whether or not she really wanted me to burn her toast.

“I’ll just make one burnt and the other one fine.”

What was happening to me?

With Levi in the kitchen making us breakfast, I knew that I had at least twenty minutes to myself. Taking my bag from under his sink, I grabbed my curling iron, shaving gel and my stick of deodorant, along with everything else I needed to make it seem like I was still a damned lady.

This morning I’d felt the roughness of my legs, and I wanted to die. I had planned on shaving yesterday, but he had joined me in the shower, and once again, I forgot everything that I was supposed to be doing with my life.

What was wrong with me?

I sighed, as I turned on the shower.

I didn’t know much about him, but I wanted to. When we first thought of this one-week fling, I honestly thought it would just be sex, a short sweet conversation, maybe some food, and then we would be on our way until the next day. But instead, we were only separated for a few hours, which felt like forever.

“I’m getting addicted,” I confessed to myself. “I’m getting too addicted to Levi Black.”

This should bother me more—

“Aww, fuck!” I screamed at the self-inflicted cut on the back of my heel.

“Thea? Are you alright?”

I didn’t say anything for a moment trying not to scream. It hurt like a mother—

“Thea?” he asked, as he opened the door.

Why hadn’t I locked the door? Damn it! Can’t I just be a little bit sexy sometimes?

“I’m fine,” I called out, “it’s just a little cut…”

He opened the shower curtain and I instinctively I crossed my hands over my chest in an attempt to conceal my nakedness, while trying to balance on my one good leg. I must have looked like an idiot.

“Come out of there, I have some topical.”

“Seriously Levi, I’m okay.”

“Look down,” he instructed.

When I did, I just wanted to crawl under a rock for the rest of my life. Watching my blood go down the drain, staining his bath… it was gross.

“Fine,” I sighed.

I tried to step out of the shower, but he stepped in front of me and picked me up. With me in his arms, he grabbed two towels off of the rack, and we headed into the bedroom. Placing me on the bed, I wrapped one of the towels around myself, while he pressed the second one against my bleeding foot.

Looking at him over, I noticed he was wearing a simple pajama bottom and light cotton shirt… but he also had glasses on.

Even when he wasn’t trying to be sexy, he was sexy, while I, on the other hand, had been busy
trying
to be sexy, but had instead pulled an Edward Scissorhands on my leg.

Fuck my life.

“Sorry,” he muttered, as I winced when the cream touched my heel.

“Oh please, don’t say sorry, this is embarrassing enough as it is. So much for me trying to be sexy,” I sighed.

He paused for a moment looking up at me like I was crazy— “I came into the bathroom to find you standing under my shower, wet, naked, and beautiful. Then, I got to carry you out of the shower like a man, and now, you’re sitting on my bed, dripping wet, with nothing around you but a towel. The only thing that could make this sexier is this,” he said as he reached up and pulled off my shower cap.

Goddamn it! I forgot I had it on.
Why, God?
Why?!

“You’re sexy without even trying,” he said, as he planted a light kiss on my kneecap, “now stop ruining this for me.”

I remained silent, allowing him to finish bandaging me up. At least I had finished ninety percent of shaving my legs before I got hurt.

“I’ll finish breakfast, while you get ready,” he said, as he stood back from me.

Reaching up, I grabbed the edge of his shirt, and as I sat up on to the bed, I allowed the towel to fall. He swallowed, his eyes fixated on every inch of me.

“I like you in glasses,” was all I could think to say before he kissed me.

Moaning into his mouth, he lifted me up, moving us further onto the bed.

“You’re killing me Thea,” he murmured against my lips.

“God, I hope not. The week is just getting started!” I grinned, as I took his glasses off and placed them on his bedside table. Reaching for the box of condoms I noted, “You’re running low.”

“A box well spent,” he replied taking it from my hand as I kissed him. It took him only a moment before he grabbed ahold of my waist and started thrusting.

“Hgh…” I moaned, gripping on to him.

When he squeezed my ass, I knew that this round wasn’t meant to be a drawn out affair, he meant to go at it hard and fast. He was on his knees, squeezing my thighs, as he slammed into me over and over again.

“Levi,” I gasped, as I let go of him, and leaned back to grab onto his headboard.

I called his name over and over again, but the only answer he gave to my calls were in the form of short grunts… until he slowed down, much to my frustration.

“What are you…?” I asked.

Opening my eyes, I found him watching me intently, a slight smile lingered on his lips. I knew that he took pleasure in seeing me beg for it. Each slow thrust forward drove me crazy. I wanted him, and he knew it.

“Faster,” I demanded.

But he just smirked, going slower than ever. “I’m sorry, what?”

Damn him.

Letting go of his headboard, I pushed him onto his back.

“I said faster, and if you won’t give it to me, I’ll give it to myself,” I said, as I planted a quick kiss in the center of his chest before sitting back up.

“Thea…” he gasped, as I rode him.

His hands went to my waist but I smacked them away.

“Thea,” he grunted, his eyes closing.

“You should see the look on your face,” I teased him, just as he had teased me.

He flipped me on to my back, his face only inches away. “Don’t push me,” he growled.

“Then don’t hold back.”

That did it. Whatever reservations he had left, disappeared as he once again buried himself deeper in me.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

“Yes!”

That was all that I could say, but it was all that needed to be said. His grip on me was so strong, it was almost painful, and even that made it feel better.

Pulling him to me, I kissed him again. I was rough and sloppy, but I didn’t care.

“Levi.”

“Thea,” he whispered, right before falling on top of me. “I think I’m becoming addicted to you.”

I laughed, “That’s good, because I feel the same way. Let’s indulge.”

Because this was sinful in all the right ways.