Loose Ends (5 page)
Authors: Electa Rome Parks
“Man, this is harder than I thought it would be. It’s good to see you. I mean that, and I have so much explaining to do.” We took a seat at the bar.
“Well, I have all the time you need. You know how we used to close the bar out,” I reminded him with a genuine smile. The bar-tender came over, we paused in conversation, and Brice ordered a beer as well.
“Christian, first of all, I’m sorry. Forgive me. I had problems back then that I’ve tried hard to resolve.”
That was how our meeting began. It was a bit awkward for the first few minutes, but after we sat down and actually started talking, things felt natural. I felt like I had been reunited with a long-lost relative. We didn’t talk too long about any deep issues; we kept everything casual, reminiscing about the good old days.
Brice hadn’t changed much since our military years together. If anything, he was more buff and toned and as arrogant as ever. Brice looked happy and at peace with himself. He showed me a photo of his new wife, Kree, and, as expected, she was beautiful, with long, thick, shoulder-length hair, high cheekbones and deep, penetrating eyes. There was a familiarity about her. Kree was definitely a looker. He always did know how to pick women.
I showed him a recent photo of Mia and Lyric, the one with them dressed all in white, and he got a distant look in his eyes that soon passed as our conversation changed to catching up on old friends and acquaintances. By now we had moved our conversation and drinks to a table near the wall.
The conversation was lively, the drinks ever flowing, and the evening passed quickly. Before I knew it, we were shaking hands and saying good night. Brice gave me his address and phone number again and we made plans to meet soon.
Brice
As I made my way home from MVP’s about a week ago, my ringing cell phone pulled me out of my reverie.
“Yeah?”
“Baby, are you on your way home?” Kree asked in a slightly annoying, babylike voice. “I miss you.”
“I know you didn’t call to check up on me,” I said, irritated.
“Brice, don’t start getting mad. I wanted to know how the meeting went.”
“Can you at least wait until I walk through the door?” Lately Kree has been getting on my last nerve. She’s always asking me these damn questions about Mia. How did she look, what were the details of the breakup, how was Mia in bed? It was like she was trying to compete!
“Well, I’m waiting up for you . . . in bed. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in ten minutes,” I said in a distracted voice before hanging up.
My thoughts immediately went back to Mia. When Christian showed me that photo of her, I had to catch my breath. She was breathtaking; five years had only enhanced her beauty. It took me a few moments, which Christian missed, to compose myself as I conjured up images of him screwing her. Mia wasn’t a virgin when I married her, but she hadn’t been with too many men, so I taught her quite a few things in the bedroom.
I missed that about her; she totally gave her body to me with no inhibitions. Her pussy craved my dick. I couldn’t picture her—didn’t want to picture her—screwing some other brotha. Especially if that other brotha was Christian.
Within minutes I was parking my white Volvo and walking up the flight of steps to my condo we were leasing. When I inserted my key and opened the front door, I noticed a glow illuminating the hallway. I didn’t even investigate; I just sat down on the sofa and turned on the TV out of habit, lost in my own thoughts and images of the past.
Kree interrupted my thoughts. “Brice, what’s taking you so long? Come on back!”
I got up. As I walked slowly down the hallway, my mind was still a million miles away.
“Baby?”
When I entered our bedroom and looked up, Kree was lying on our bed spread-eagled on a canopy of roses with candles, tons of candles, every shape and shade of red you could imagine, lit throughout the room. There wasn’t a space void of candles. Kree had this look of “come fuck me” on her face, and for once in our marriage, I wasn’t interested.
“Kree, I’m tired, baby. Thanks for all the trouble you went through, but you’re going to have to take a rain check.” I sat on the edge of our king-size bed and began to undress. I slowly pulled off my shoes and trousers, and started to unbutton my shirt with my back to her. However, I could feel her intense glare.
“Give me a minute and I’ll help you blow out all the candles,” I offered without moving an inch.
Kree came up behind me and wrapped her slender arms around my neck, her breasts caressing my back. Kree was blessed in that department. She knew that was my weakness.
“Kree, stop, I’m tired,” I said forcefully as I unwrapped her arms from around my neck.
Kree was taken aback, but only for a few moments before she wrapped her arms around my neck once again and whispered, “Oh, you go and see your old friend—who, by the way, is married to your ex-wife—and suddenly now you don’t want me?”
“It’s not like that, Kree; I’m just tired. I’ll give you some in the morning. You can sit up and bitch and moan, but I’m going to bed.” I finished undressing down to my underwear and pulled back the navy satin sheet.
Kree finally made it back to bed after blowing out the candles. She wasn’t trying to hide her obvious annoyance. She slid her body over against mine; there wasn’t an inch of space left between us. I could feel her silky nakedness. Normally it would have had me hard as a brick, but tonight it irritated the hell out of me.
“Baby, how did it go?”
“Fine.”
“Are we meeting Christian’s family?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Why not, baby?”
“What is this, twenty damn questions? Get some sleep, Kree; I’ll talk to you in the morning,” I said with anger in my voice.
Kree knew when to shut the fuck up, but she still insisted on invading my space.
Staring into space, I lay there with my back to her as she continued to wrap her long legs around my waist. Finally I could take no more.
I turned around, grabbed her and straddled her before she knew what hit her.
“You want some dick, Kree? Is that what you want? Okay, I’m going to give you some.” I began to kiss her roughly on her lips.
Kree instantly started protesting. So I grabbed her by the hair and pushed her back down.
“Come on, now, open your legs wide for Daddy. I’m going to give you what you want.”
Kree was kicking and screaming, trying her best to get me off her as my fingers found her spot while my teeth bit her neck. I admit I was relentless. The more she fought me, the more excited I became.
“Leave me alone, Brice. Stop! You bastard.”
I had her pinned down on the bed with my full weight on her. One hand held her arms above her head as I stroked and touched her wherever I pleased.
“Do you like that? Yeah, you like that. I know you do. Come on, come on now, open wider, baby.”
I pushed her legs open even farther with my knees and kept right on stroking. When she started to cry, I flipped her over on her stomach so I wouldn’t have to see her face, held her head down with my hand and entered her from behind in a savage fury. I pumped and pumped in and out until I was exhausted. Then I pulled out, released her slowly, rolled over and was out a few minutes after my head hit the pillow.
Kree
I believe that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.—Author Unknown
I lovingly admired, rearranged and smelled the bouquet of red roses that had arrived earlier that morning courtesy of the local florist’s shop. The attached note, from Brice, simply read:
I was wrong; please forgive me!
After what happened a week earlier, I had been giving Brice the cold shoulder. All I had wanted that night was to make love to my husband and share in celebrating his reunion with Christian. I really wasn’t mad any longer, but I was curious to see how far he would go to romance me and place himself back in my good graces. The ring of the phone brought me out of my daydreaming.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby. Did you receive your surprise yet? I know how much you love roses,” Brice said in his humblest voice.
“Yeah, they arrived about an hour ago,” I answered, uninterested.
“Well . . .”
“Well, what?”
“Do you like them? You know, Kree, you aren’t making this easy,” Brice said in an exasperated manner. “I’ve been trying for over a week to apologize for that night. I don’t know what else to say or do. I’ve admitted I had a lot on my mind, what with the business plans, the loan, our move . . . There is just a lot going on, baby.”
“I know that, and believe me, I’m on your side. I love you, baby. I’d do anything for you.”
“Well, you aren’t acting like you love me. You could have fooled me.”
“Brice, you shouldn’t have treated me like some whore from the street. Sometimes I see this side of you that I don’t like and it scares me.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I love you, baby, and it won’t happen again. Do you forgive me? Come on, say you forgive me.”
After a long pause, I finally gave in. “Yes, Brice, you are still my man . . . and I forgive you.”
After hanging up the phone with instructions from Brice to have his dinner ready, I wondered if I should have made him suffer for another few days. I knew my husband, and he couldn’t go too long without sex. Since I hadn’t let him touch me since that night, I knew he was majorly horny.
As I prepared a chicken-and-shrimp stir-fry, fixed a light Caesar salad, and took out some French bread to toast, I thought about what I had told Brice earlier. I meant every word. I loved him so much and would do almost anything for him. Brice was my everything.
That first night I saw him, something inside of me just opened up and I knew he was the one. I know that sounds super corny, but I did—I knew he was the one. We talked all night about everything and nothing at all. I felt like I had known him all my life. The age difference meant nothing; it was just a number. However, sometimes I see a hint of his bad temper that he tries hard to hide. He’s possessive and somewhat controlling, but he’s a strong man, and I know that he loves me.
Later that evening, much to my surprise, Brice arrived home with yet another present. I was shocked. I thought the roses were the finale.
He took off his jacket, tossed it on the love seat, and gently pulled me onto his lap with a kiss. I asked, “What’s this?” as I shook the box wrapped in beautiful red-and-gold gift paper with a big red bow.
With a mischievous grin, he said, “Open it. Here, let me help you.”
“No, I can do it myself,” I said, playfully slapping his hands away.
I purposely took my time opening the package and repositioned myself on his lap. I could feel his hardness pressing against me. Brice is well-endowed and has been truly blessed in that department. And the man knows how to use his equipment.
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