Crave: A BWWM Romance (8 page)

I
did
my best to be as helpful as possible. Partly because I’m a helpful guy. Partly because I could tell that the more Moneka’s mother seemed to like me, the more irritated Moneka became. I liked watching her prickle up and stalk around the condo, looking for evidence that I might be slacking off. It was endearing in an irritating sort of way.

The condo was a decent looking place. I couldn’t help but think that I could have done wonders with it if given the chance. Still, it stood its ground. I could tell Moneka’s Mom was having a hard time letting go. If there was nothing else likable about her, that would be enough.

I enjoyed the thought that people could become attached to places. It made me feel that what I did had value beyond simply creating a structure that won’t fall down. I liked the idea that I was giving people something special. That’s what Moneka would never understand about her restaurant and me. If I ever pushed back on her, and I did ad nauseam, it was only because I wanted the best for it and I knew how to accomplish that. It’s not like I thought of myself as an artist or anything. That would be too pretentious for me. I preferred to imagine people’s lives as the art. Their memories are the paint on a canvas. What I do is build the best damn canvas you’re likely to find in Boston.

As I helped Kaila and my Dad assess the furniture situation and decide which of the pieces we should load up first, I eyed Moneka rushing in and out of the condo with boxes. There were those hips again, swaying rhythmically to her anger. At one point, I thought she caught me eyeing her. She just kept moving, voiceless. The only other time I’d seen her this short of speech, she was wrapped around me, her diamond nipples exposed, her head tilted back in an expression of ecstasy. Thinking about that night made me smile. I wanted to do it again. And again. I’d do anything to feel myself inside of her. I knew that somewhere inside she wanted it too, no matter how badly she wanted me to think otherwise.

Kaila indicated the couch and we got started. The two of us struggled through the door and down the stairs. My Dad acted as conductor, which mostly means he said “careful” a lot and pointed manically in ways that were less than helpful. Eventually, we’d made it to the truck. Moneka and her mother had been piling boxes nearby. Kaila and I loaded the couch in first and strapped it down with bungee chords. It was not a big truck; with the couch in there, there wasn’t much room for other pieces of large furniture. We managed to squeeze her dresser in nearby and loaded the rest of the space up with boxes from the sidewalk.

“One down.” Louise sighed as she gazed into the back of the truck.

“About a billion to go,” my Dad added. “Cole you rented the smallest truck on the market.”

“It’s not the smallest truck.” I felt a little defensive after agreeing to help at all. “It’s the best price per square footage. Besides, I’m the one driving it. What do you care?”

“Touché.” My Dad threw his hands up and turned back to the condo. “Well, two of you should go and unpack the truck at the other end. The rest of us will stay and get furniture and boxes ready for another round.”

“Kaila why don’t you go with Cole?” Louise turned to her daughter who was doing light stretches against the curb.

“Sorry Mom. I’m going to have to bail. I’ve got a hot date in an hour and half and I smell like a sweaty old lady.” Kaila dug her nose into her armpit and took a whiff, obviously hoping to drive home exactly how sweaty she was.

“What? I have a restaurant opening in a week and I’m here, she’s got a ‘hot date’ and she gets to bail?” Moneka stared incredulously at her mother.

I felt bad for Louise at this point. Her kids were giving her such a hard time. I was reminded of the hard time I'd been giving my father up to this point and made a mental note to apologize.

“Hey, sorry Moneka. I couldn’t reschedule this one. If you knew what he looked like, you’d understand.”

Moneka smiled a little at her sister. “Fine. But he better be
really
good looking. You’re making a lot more work for the rest of us.”

“I think you’ll manage.” I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw her wink in my direction. She was still at it; Moneka must not have told her that we sealed the deal.

“In that case, Moneka can go with Cole to unload the truck and Francis and I can get another load ready. There’s still a tiny bit of kitchen packing left too.” Louise sounded settled on the plan. She didn’t notice the dawning horror on her daughter’s face. I did though, and it made me laugh inside. Moneka Hart. What a piece of work.

“Alright,” Moneka said with as little enthusiasm as possible.

After we had gotten the back down and latched, Moneka and I climbed into the truck and started heading toward my Dad’s place on the North Shore. The drive was not going to be too unreasonable. It would be 40 minutes tops, depending on traffic. However, it was long enough, I’m sure, to make Moneka feel like she was dying a slow death. As we pulled away from the condo and started making our way to the highway, I glanced over at her. Her expression was icy. I’ve heard expressions be referred to as icy in the past, but never really understood the term until this moment. She radiated a coldness that almost burned and I felt that, if I reached out and touched the sharp corners of her face, they’d cut me.

“So, how was your weekend?” I decided to try civility and see if I could melt some of that ice.

“It was terrific. I found out my mother is moving in with a total stranger.” Her eyes remained trained on the road.

“You know, I get it. I really do. I mean, when my Dad said he went to Vegas and got
met
someone, I thought I was going to lose it. But, Louise seems really nice.”

“She
is
nice. She’s a wonderful person and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Well, my Dad’s nice too.”

There was a silence so awkward I thought we might implode under the weight of it.

“I mean. I know it’s fast, but they could be happy,” I persevered.

“Yeah. I guess.” I thought I could feel a little of her thaw. Her shoulders relaxed very slightly. It was like trying to melt a polar ice cap with a regular sized heat lamp. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “This has just been a very weird weekend.”

“Ha. Tell me about it. It wasn’t
all
bad though was it?” I stole another glance, hoping to catch a smile. I thought I maybe saw a microscopic one.

“No. Not
all
bad.” She turned toward me. “Look Cole. I’m sorry I was so hot and cold with you. It’s just been a crazy couple of days, you know? It was fun. But now, more than ever, it can never happen again.”

“Why?”

“Because we have a
professional
relationship. And now, we also have a
personal
family-ish relationship. It’s just too messy.”

“Hmmm.” I smiled over at her and winked. “I do recall it being kind of messy.”

“Stop it Cole.”

“Why? I’m not finished. And from the way you were responding to me on Saturday morning, I don’t think you’re finished either.”

“Well think again. Because I am. It was a good night. Don’t ruin it by acting like…”

“Like what?”

“Like yourself.”

“Ouch.” I clutched my chest with one hand. “You hit me right where it hurt.”

Another silence followed. I tried to get a read on her presence as I continued trundling down the road. I knew she wanted me. I knew she liked it. Why was she fighting this so hard?

“We’ll make this quick.” Moneka spoke as we pulled onto my Dad’s street. “I’ll get out and help you park the truck, we’ll get the stuff out and into the house, then we’ll head straight back.”

“Right,” I said, “You’ll help me park the truck, we’ll get the stuff out and into the house, we’ll have a quickie in my old bedroom, then we’ll…”

“Goddamnit Cole! I need you to stop. I really do. You know what? I take back what I said. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t a good night. It was a big fat mistake that I
never
should have made. If there was ever a prayer of it happening, there certainly isn’t now.”

“Alright. I’m sorry.”

My Dad’s street was Rockwellian if the people in those classic Rockwell’s paintings had about five times more money. Lightly wooded and with plenty of space between the houses, it made for a quiet spot. My Dad’s driveway made a loop in front of the house, so there was no need for Moneka to get out and direct. I pulled the truck up to get as close to the front door as possible. As I was putting it in park, I noticed Moneka eyeing the house through the windshield.

It was an admittedly impressive structure. A classically over-sized colonial, it stood two stories high in the center with one-story offshoots on either side. It was long, five windows across in the center and two windows across on the offshoots. Three small windows peeked out of the sloping roof in the middle, indicating a third story hidden somewhere inside. A balcony hung over the front, kept aloft by Greek pillars. I loved this house. I grew up here. When I took the time to imagine it, I imagined it with hydrangeas and roses lining the front walk and peeking up under the bottom story windows. I remembered a birdbath that my mother had insisted on installing near the oak tree to the left. These days, the birdbath was dry and the flowers had long sense been moved. To Dad’s credit, he kept a well-manicured lawn and took care to keep the creeping vines away from the façade.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said, opening the passenger door. I could sense her hesitate for a moment, wanting to gawk at the house a little bit longer.

“Fine,” I replied.

We both moved quickly to the back. I helped her open it and then went to unlock the front door. Moneka grabbed a box and followed. The two of us continued to work like this, piling boxes in the bottom rooms of the house, unearthing the furniture in the back of the truck. Moneka’s prickly demeanor had returned. She huffed every time I accidentally got in her way. Her every movement was angry and impatient. I was sorry that I’d pushed her, but this was starting to get ridiculous. We were going to be seeing a lot more of each other whether we liked it or not, with our parents living together.

“What is
with
you?” I finally asked after she rolled her eyes at my holding the door open for her.

“What do you mean
what is with me
?” Moneka said as she passed, continuing her furious pace toward the truck.

I followed. “I mean, why are you acting like this? I said I was sorry and I said I would stop. What more do you want from me?”

Moneka kept moving into the truck, piling boxes to one side as she tried to get to the lager ones on the bottom. “I’m acting like this because I have to be around someone who pretends he’s a gentleman and acts like a pig.”

“Fine! Then I’m
not
sorry about the jokes. I meant every single one.” I followed her into the truck, standing between her and the exit.

Moneka stopped what she was doing. She turned and glared at me. “Of course you did. You’ve wanted me ever since I hired you. You’ve been obsessing over me. It’s pathetic.”

“Oh? And you haven’t wanted
me
at all? Was that some other women telling me to fuck her last Friday night?”

“Yes!” She shouted. “And she’s gone now.
Thank God!
”

No she wasn’t. She was standing right here in front of me. I hated her stupid denial, her lame attempts to revise history. How dare she stand there and call
me
pathetic when she wanted it just as badly as I did. “Oh yeah? Well
that
Cole Saunders is gone too!” I shouted back, ushering in a deafening silence.

“Really.” Her face was a combination of skepticism and scorn. “You don’t want me at all?”

“Not even a little.”

“Good. Cause you disgust me!”

“You disgust me too!”

I took a step forward for emphasis and suddenly became acutely aware of her proximity to me. I could reach out and touch her. I wanted to. No matter what I shouted at her, all I wanted was to grab her and pull her in, making our bodies one.

“Then you can get out of my way! I want to get this over with.”

“I could.” I took another step closer. Soon I was looming over her, feeling her energy floating off her caramel skin in waves.

“Then do it!”

“I will.”

At that moment, I took her by both shoulders and pulled her forward to meet my lips. It was crazy, but I knew that if I didn’t kiss her, I was going to explode. When I came to my senses, I prepared to pull away and be slapped, deservedly so. Instead, her lips parted, and her tongue clashed furiously with mine. That kiss became the hottest, angriest kiss I had ever experienced. I thought, for an insane moment, that Moneka was going to eat me alive.

As our tongues continued to lock with one another, I could feel her hands moved down toward my belt and start working at it. She was a woman on a mission. Overcome by the moment, I ran my hands up her back and started tackling her bra hooks with equal vigor. My clumsy fingers fumbled at the strap in their eagerness to see the bra gone and those beautiful brown breasts laid bare.

Eventually, Moneka broke the kiss and came up for air. I continued down the side of her neck, pelting her with quick enthusiastic kisses. She just laid her head against mine and gasped, her heavy breathing sounded raspy against my ear. By now, she had torn off my belt and undone the buttons on my jeans. I had finally snapped open her bra and was running my hands up her back, pressing her closer to me and enjoying the smoothness of her skin.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked her, making a mental note to kick myself later for trying to bring her to her senses.

“What’s the matter?” Moneka plunged her hand down the front of my pants, stroking my cock. “You don’t want this?” The message she was sending was loud and clear.

“Oh I definitely want this.” I said as I moved my hands around to her front, pushed the undone bra out of the way, and started teasing her breasts with my hands. Every moan she made, as my thumbs taunted her nipples, made me harder.

“This’ll be the last time though.” Her breath was raspy, as she dropped my pants and boxers to the floor.