His Reason, Her Choice (5 page)

Before she could turn around, Russ moved over her. He seemed much bigger than she remembered. His head came into view, and he nuzzled her neck. She caught the scent of her own essence, but it wasn’t disgusting.

“What are you open to?” he asked. “We didn’t discuss it much.”

She stiffened. “Like um tying up?”

He chuckled. The boy next-door eyes crinkled playfully. He had a nerve being so calm and confident when she was a wreck. She was the one with few options, and it didn’t feel like a choice at all.

Russ looked into her face and grew serious. He touched her mouth with a thumb tip. “Don’t look so sad. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to, and no, I didn’t mean tying you up.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Turn over.”

Russ kept her from lying back so he could slip the nightie over her head. Now she had no barriers against his roving hands and his hungry eyes. He took her in, staring at every visible inch. She was somewhat thin, she knew, because she ate far less so there would always be enough for the girls. Not to mention being sick a lot with Isaac.

Russ’s fingers played over her nipples, and he cupped one breast in his palm. The peak pebbled under his touch. She had to admit it felt kind of good. So far sickness was the farthest thing from her mind. Her body accepted his touch and seemed to want more.

She spread her legs, and Russ used his fingers to part her nether lips even more. He moaned. “You’re still so wet, honey. Once more.”

He buried his head between her legs and brought her to a second climax. She cried out his name when he licked her like he loved how she tasted and couldn’t get enough.

When he finished, Russ hopped off the bed and snatched open the button on his pants and tore the zipper down. Joy couldn’t look away. She wanted to see it, having heard the stereotype that white men were smaller than black men. Isaac had been average, but the way he made her feel—or not feel—he might as well as have had pencil dick.

Russ uncovered his shaft, and she stared. He was thick, maybe a little more than Isaac in that regard, but he wasn’t longer. Russ palmed his dick and stroked it. He was rigid already, and the precome gathered at the tip. She watched as he rolled a condom onto his erection then climbed back onto the bed.

“When we’re both comfortable,” he said, “we can get rid of this. Unless you don’t use birth control?”

“I’m fixed,” she said. She’d done it a couple years after Nicolette was born and didn’t regret it.

He seemed shocked, but he didn’t comment. Joy lay back. She bit her lip again. This was it. She was going to let a man inside her for the express purpose of taking care of her and her kids. At least with Isaac, he started out as her boyfriend. She had stayed longer than she should have, but Russ was different.

Russ climbed atop her and lay between her legs. She felt the head of his shaft press against her opening. He leaned up to look into her face and pushed fingers into her hair. “Relax, Joy. It’s okay.”

He kissed her, and it took a long time this round to recognize that she liked his kisses. Russ’s tongue slid into her mouth, and when it did, his dick eased into her snatch. She spread her legs wider and felt every inch as he pumped deep. He gave a choked cry of pleasure, pulled out, and pushed in again. Her muscles gave into him right away, and he hooked hands beneath her knees to raise them. Soon, he was thumping in and out of her heat and moaning.

Their bodies moved together and away in a simple rhythm. Little by little, she relaxed enough not to lie there like a stone. She pushed up to him to meet his thrusts and arched her hips away. Russ pumped faster and moved harder. He felt heavy, driving her into the bed. A gathering of nerves in her core shot arrows of sensation to her heat. She clutched his shoulders.

“Joy,” he whispered and took her lips in another kiss. She surrendered to him as he wanted her to, and when she least expected it, a third orgasm hit, sending quakes throughout her body.

Russ reached between them and grasped her bud. He massaged it gently and steadily until she peaked and tumbled into total satisfaction. When she was done, he moved his hand, and she held her own legs up while he pounded through his need inside her. His gasp and cry told her he’d reached his release, and he collapsed on top of her.

After some time, Russ rolled away, and Joy turned from him. She couldn’t help herself. She started to cry, hard, and covered her mouth to try to stem it, but it didn’t quiet her down. Russ was there in an instant, spooning her ass, his strong arms around her. She didn’t move from his embrace but just lay there until the emotion passed.

The bed shifted, and she heard rustling behind her. A tissue appeared before her face, and she blew her nose with it. He offered another, and she took it. More rustling and he walked to the door dressed in his jeans. He opened it and left the room, the door clicking closed behind him.

J
oy had a headache. At least school was out for the summer, so she didn’t have to get up early. The three of them had been living with Russ for a few days, and things had gotten slightly better—meaning she didn’t sob like an idiot every time they had sex. She didn’t get sick either. The headache probably had to do with her staying up too late playing some stupid game with Russ.

Denita’s loud voice reached her through the closed bedroom door, and she winced. The clock read nine fifteen. Damn, the girls would be hungry, and she didn’t like them to eat cereal for breakfast more than necessary. Besides that, Joy had no business sitting at home laying up in bed rather than looking for a job. No, wait, it was Sunday.

Searching the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, she found pain meds and downed a few. Then she brushed her teeth and pulled on anything that covered the nakedness. She had made a mistake and fallen asleep in Russ’s room. Maybe the girls would be too engrossed in their TV shows, they wouldn’t notice.

She left the bedroom with her eyes slitted against the brightness of the house. The scent of sausage and nutmeg permeated the air. Alarm struck her. Surely, the girls weren’t crazy enough to get on the stove. They knew better. She ran down the hall to the kitchen and stumbled to a confused stop when she found Russ standing at the stove flipping pancakes. Denita and Nicolette were at the table with coloring books and crayons.

“Mommy, look,” Denita shouted, “he can cook.”

“He has a name, Denita,” she muttered, “and I beg you to lower the volume a little.”

“Sorry.” Denita tried but failed to bring it down to an acceptable level, but her daughter stood to hug her. Nicolette jumped to do the same. Russ smiled from his post.

“I made enough for you. Coffee?”

“Caffeine, yes.” She fell into a chair. “You don’t have to cook for them. I can make whatever they want. I’m a decent cook too. I don’t even mind making the meals. I’m used to it.”

She waited for him to reply. He said nothing. Joy was soon handed a cup of coffee, and plates of sausage and pancakes passed around the table to everyone. Russ sat down with a wide grin as if he had just solved world hunger. From the way Nicolette tucked into her meal, for her he did.

“Taste it,” Russ encouraged her. “I’m not half bad myself.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and gave the blueberry filled pancakes a try. They were sweet and delicious with warm blueberry syrup and whipped topping. The sausage was spicy, and Joy shot a hand out to grab Nicolette’s before she bit her sausage.

“Don’t worry,” Russ said. “We had an exhaustive discussion on the merits of hot sausage before you woke up.”

Joy couldn’t help laughing. “By that you mean Nicolette told you everybody who likes hot food is crazy, and Denita, on the rare occasion, agreed.”

He nodded and looked at Denita. “They’re exactly like you described them.”

Joy laughed again. “I’ll warn Denita not to talk your ear off. And Nicolette, well... I got her.”

“It’s fine, Joy. You don’t have to be so careful.”

“I do,” she insisted. “They’re my world.”

He stared at her for a few quiet moments and then nodded. “Understood.”

She had the feeling he didn’t understand, and from what she knew of him, he was as stubborn as Denita. Joy finished her breakfast and stood to do dishes. Russ tried to take the task from her.

“Just let me do at least this,” she said. “I appreciate what you’ve done for us.”

He leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You say that, but you resent me for—”

“Russ.”

He fell silent.

Joy turned toward the table. “Girls, take your coloring books and crayons to your room. Don’t just throw them anywhere. I’ll be in there in a minute to get laundry together.”

“Boring,” Danita announced.

“Be quiet before I make you start helping me.”

“I’m too little.”

“Not with that attitude you’re not.”

Denita gathered her things as fast as she could and scurried from the kitchen. Nicolette offered a sweet smile. “I’ll help, Mommy.”

“That’s okay, baby. Maybe next time.”

Nicolette left, and Joy turned back to the sink.

“You think she’s too young?” Russ said. “She offered to help me cook, and I was thinking about what we could make.”

She glared at him. “They’re not allowed on the stove. That’s not up for negotiation.”

“I wasn’t going to let her get on the stove, but will you agree to let her stir something in a bowl?”

“The last time I let Nicolette help, she put red capris in with her white uniform shirts. I thought I would die. I have to replace her shirts constantly for regular stains. She’s such a sweetie for wanting to help, but exhausting too.”

“If I promise not to die?”

She laughed. He touched her cheek, but she turned away.

“Do I disgust you?”

“No.” She wasn’t lying, but he came so close to naming what she had felt in the past. What she feared was her feelings turning to disgust any day now. “I accepted your offer.”

“Accepting and wanting it are two different things.”

She gaped at him. “Are you expecting me to want it?”

“I make sure you come every time.”

“So? You think that makes what we’re doing any different? I’m your...”

“Don’t,” he warned.

“I’m whatever I am. We both agreed. I won’t romanticize it, and you’ve never said you want anything different than what I give you.”

He started to speak, but she held up her hand.

“What I do, I do for Denita and Nicolette. Like I told you, they’re my everything. I’d die for them, and I would—”

“I get it,” he said with bitterness. “You’d fuck me.”

“Every day and night!”

Russ’s hand snaked out, and he dragged her to him. She bumped against his chest, and his arm like a steel band encircled her waist. The other hand roved up her back to her hair and knotted there. He slanted his mouth over hers to kiss her hard, a punishment more than anything else. She almost tasted his anger.

Joy curled her fingers into his shirtsleeves, but she didn’t try to get away. She let him have what was essentially his, and she opened her mouth beneath the onslaught and shut her eyes. What boggled her mind was when the pleasure came into it. For some insane reason, she enjoyed his touch, and maybe she shouldn’t question it for now. Maybe she should just let it happen. The days wouldn’t be so long or so full of worry.

Reality hit. He had no right to think she should want his touch no matter how hard he worked to make her feel good. He knew what he had been offering and what it sounded like on the phone.

When he raised his head, he released her, and Joy turned back to the dishes. “I’d rather not do that where the girls could catch us.”

“I want you to move into my bedroom permanently.”

She gasped and looked at him. “You said you would give me time.”

“I’ll help you get your things moved if you need me to.”

“You don’t give a damn about me at all, do you?” She put her hand on her hip.

His color was high, but his eyes still sparked with anger.

“The girls—”

“Will believe whatever you tell them. Tell them you’ve loved me for years, and the timing was finally right.”

She rolled her eyes.

He pushed fingers through his hair. “Tell them I’m the bad guy.”

“Because you are.”

He dropped his hand to his side and walked toward the door. Russ never shouted or stuck around to argue. He stopped at the door, a hand on the jamb. “I want all of your stuff in my room by tonight, Joy.”

“Yes, sir!”

He spun around to face her, but seemed to change his mind about saying anything. Then he disappeared. Joy slammed the flat of palm on the surface of the water. She only managed to splash herself, but she didn’t care. She needed to find a job fast.

“J
oy, I’m going to need you to come in on Saturday. We’ve got a ton of heads wanting washes, and a couple of these clients tip really nice.”

Joy grabbed her jacket from the hook it hung on. The rain had been coming down earlier, and thanks to Nicolette, she didn’t have an umbrella anymore. Her daughter had been playing with the thing and now the bar was bent, and it wouldn’t open. At least both her and Denita had raincoats and cute little matching umbrellas. Joy would have to buy another from today’s tips.

“You know I can’t work on the weekend, Sharon. I don’t have anybody to watch my girls, and even if I put them in daycare, it’ll just eat up whatever I make.”

Her new employer groaned. “You can’t live off the two days you’re here during the week.”

“I know. I’m working on that.”

One of the stylists stuck her head in the door leading to the front of the salon. “Damn, Sharon, when you get white boys up in here? He’s not half bad though.”

Sharon wrinkled her nose. “Don’t say that all loud, and I have a few. We cater to whoever wants their hair done.”

“I said
boys
—excuse me—man.”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Fine. I don’t.”

Joy had a sneaking suspicion the “white boy” was hers. She confirmed it when she walked out to the front to find Russ talking quietly on his cell near the door. Dressed in a gray business suit, he did look pretty good, but she wondered why he was there. When he spotted her, he clicked the phone closed and strode to her. His hand touched her arm lightly but with an unmistakable possessiveness. Several sounds of comprehension rose around the room.