Loose Ends (6 page)

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Authors: Electa Rome Parks

BOOK: Loose Ends
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Finally, I opened the package and pulled out a sexy, see-through, flaming-red negligee with matching silk panties, which were just as skimpy. The attached tag read,
Frederick’s of Hollywood.
 
 
“Try it on. Model for me,” Brice said in a deep, sexy tone with a sultry look in his eyes.
 
 
Yeah, he wanted some. I got up to go into the bedroom.
 
 
“No, try it on in here.” He pulled me back between his open legs, gently rubbing and slapping my butt through the fabric of my dress.
 
 
I pulled away and debated whether I should give him his wish or not.
 
 
“Undress for your man, baby. Let me see my stuff,” he whispered.
 
 
Slowly and seductively, I unfastened the tiny buttons down the front of my full-skirted black dress. Brice’s eyes never left me.
 
 
“That’s right, take your time. Give me a show.”
 
 
I stepped out of my dress, lightly licked my lips and stood in front of Brice in my lacy black bra-and-panty set, my legs slightly parted.
 
 
“Go on; take it off. Take it all off. Show me my stuff.”
 
 
Brice loves for me to play this strip-tease game with him. He says it turned him on big-time to reveal my body to him, little by little.
 
 
After unclipping the front hook, I slid my right bra strap off my shoulder, then my left bra strap. I held the bra in place with my hands. Just as I dropped them, I turned my back to Brice. Bending down, with one swift movement I was out of my thong. I turned back around to see Brice’s reaction. He didn’t disappoint. He always made me feel like a woman. The lust in his eyes, the way his gaze traveled over my body from head to toe, I knew I was desired. Very desired.
 
 
Brice approached me and had my nipple in his mouth before I could object. A small moan escaped my lips when I felt his finger inside me.
 
 
It took a lot, but I pushed him back. “Remember, I’m modeling for you.”
 
 
“Come here, Kree, I want some pussy.” He palmed my butt cheeks and rubbed. With his free hand, he unzipped his pants.
 
 
“Poor baby.”
 
 
“Oh, poor baby, my ass. You know you want to ride this.” He held his organ in his hand and stroked up and down.
 
 
I pushed him back again and slipped into the red negligee. It was the perfect fit, what little there was, and it complemented my body. It showed everything I had to offer. By now Brice was looking like he was going to explode.
 
 
“Kree, are you going to tease me all night?”
 
 
“I’d never do that, baby,” I purred in a naughty voice. “I’m going to give you some just like you like it.”
 
 
“Come here, baby.” He reached for me again.
 
 
Again, I pulled back just in time.
 
 
“You didn’t want me the other night, remember? So you’ve got to prove you want me now.”
 
 
“Believe me, I want you, baby. Look, my jimmy wants you so bad that he’s saluting you.” He pulled me onto the sofa and began to suckle and caress my breasts again, moving his hand up and down between my thighs.
 
 
“No, show me, Brice.”
 
 
Brice knew what I was talking about. He rarely went down on me, but it turned me on so much when he did that I thought I was losing my mind. He had me sucking his dick all the time, though. When we first married, Brice made me watch these porno movies so that I could get the technique down. And Brice is huge. Sometimes he wouldn’t give me any unless I did that for him. Now the tables were turned.
 
 
Brice realized I was serious. When he walked away into the kitchen, I wasn’t sure what he was up to. He quickly returned with one of our dining room chairs and placed me gently in it as he continued to caress me. Brice proceeded to pull me to the edge of the seat, pulled my negligee up to my waist and grabbed my ankles, placing them on the chair rests.
 
 
My stuff was literally in his face. He got on his knees and opened my legs even wider, if that was possible. He was definitely up close and personal. As he lowered his mouth and began to grant my request, I threw my head back in ecstasy.
 
 
Mia
 
 
“Mommy, Mommy, look,” Lyric shouted as she ran back and forth on her short, stubby legs from Mama to me. We were at Northlake Mall, off Lavista Road, relaxing on a bench after an exhausting shopping spree. Mama, Lyric, and myself were now indulging in Baskin-Robbins ice cream. It was butter pecan for me, strawberry for Lyric, and rocky road for Mama. It had been a full day helping Mama shop for a Carnival cruise she was going on in a few weeks. Her first one.
 
 
She’s come a long way. Years earlier she would have never even thought about going on a senior citizens’ cruise to the Bahamas. A few years ago a liquor bottle was her best friend and companion. However, that’s all in the past. Mama has been sober for almost five years and still attends AA meetings regularly. It hasn’t been an easy road, not by a long shot. But she’s doing just fine. Now her life is full of good friends, bingo, church and her only granddaughter.
 
 
Lyric was getting more ice cream on Mama than in her own little mouth.
 
 
“The other day when Christian picked up Lyric, he told me that y’all are going to meet with that fool,” Mama said as she smiled at Lyric, who was now back on the floor walking back and forth.
 
 
“Yes, Mama, we haven’t set a time or place yet, but we are meeting with him and his new wife. I think her name is Kree. It’ll make Christian happy, and that’s what’s important to me. Even though he won’t admit it, I know he has missed having Brice in his life. After everything that’s happened, Christian lost the most—his adopted family.”
 
 
“I think you’re doing the right thing for your husband and even yourself. You need this closure. You look Brice straight in the eyes and you let him know that he didn’t destroy your spirit. You be careful, though, baby. I still don’t trust that man as far as I can throw him. Any man who would hit a woman . . . Lord have mercy. After all that mess he put you through . . .”
 
 
“I know; I will. Like I said, I’m doing this for Christian. If I had my way, I’d never set eyes on the man again.”
 
 
“Why now, though, why after almost five years? That’s what I can’t figure out. It doesn’t make sense,” Mama wondered.
 
 
“I know; I’ve thought about that too. But he’s been overseas most of this time, and it couldn’t possibly be because his conscience is bothering him.” Lyric jumped back into my lap, hugged me, and gave me a sticky kiss on the nose.
 
 
“His wife, poor thing, what does she think about this li’l meeting?”
 
 
“Honestly, I don’t know, Mama, and I really don’t care,” I huffed with too much attitude, which caused Mama to give me one of her looks. One of her “do you know who you’re talking to?” looks.
 
 
As she gazed into space she said, “I don’t ever want to see you in that state of mind again. During that period, you were in such emotional despair. A parent can’t stand seeing her child in pain. That man totally broke my baby’s spirit . . .”
 
 
“Let’s talk about something else. I’m sick of hearing about Brice. We’re giving him too much importance, too much power,” I said in a shaky voice.
 
 
Mama looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Okay, baby. Be careful. Just be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt again. You’ve got a good man in Christian. Men like Christian don’t come around every day.”
 
 
Mama and I, along with Lyric in her Mickey Mouse stroller, went to a few more stores and eventually called it a day around four o’clock.
 
 
On the drive home I thought about what Mama had said. I was a sad, pitiful case during my divorce to Brice. My heart was split wide-open. Most days, I couldn’t even get out of bed. I just wanted to sleep. I felt like my life was over. I had my good and bad days, but Mama was there through it all. I promised myself I’d never give a man that much power in my life again—as much as I love Christian, not even him. No, I don’t want to see myself in that state again.
 
 
Christian
 
 
“Is that cool with you, baby? Let me know if it’s not, because we can change the time,” I asked Mia for probably the third time that day.
 
 
“Christian, like I told you before, that’s fine with me. I’ll double-check and make sure Mama can babysit Lyric,” Mia assured me as she sexily sashayed into the kitchen to finish up the dinner dishes. I admired her from the kitchen table. It was another lazy Sunday afternoon and tomorrow was business as usual, back to the work routine. Mia’s lucky; she has a few more months and then she’ll be out for summer break. Schoolteachers have it made in that area. After a school year with some of those kids, they need a break. Mia has tons of stories to tell about some of their badasses.
 
 
We had finally come up with a date, two weeks from Saturday, to meet with Brice and Kree. To make it convenient for Mia, we decided to have a light meal at our house and take it from there. Surprisingly, Mia is taking everything in stride. She was truly amazing. I know she’s doing all this for me. I realize I’m probably being selfish, but I miss our true friendship, the ties of brotherhood that Brice and I had once shared. I was hoping, on some level, that we could move forward and recapture that. Yes, I’m being selfish.
 
 
As I heard Mia humming away in the kitchen, clinking dishes now and then, I thought back to how we got together. After Mia’s breakup with Brice, I was as emotionally devastated as she was. Mia had lost a husband, but after admitting to Brice that I was in love with Mia, I had lost a lifelong best friend. In giving up our friendship, I also gave up any ties to Brice’s family. That was entirely my choice.
 
 
In the beginning, his moms, Vivica, was constantly calling to see how I was doing. She’d chitchat about whatever was going on in her life. When I wasn’t very receptive, her calls eventually dwindled down to one or two a month and then to nonexistent. Afterward, I was pretty much alone in life. That suited me fine, because most of my life had been spent alone—emotionally anyway.
 
 
My brother, Randy, was killed as a teenager. He never lived to see eighteen. My moms had died when I was in high school and I never knew my pops. Since I had never formed too many attachments or friendships, I was literally all alone. Looking back, if I had to do it all over again, I’d still make the same decision. I had to choose and I chose Mia.
 
 
After Mia and Brice’s breakup, she left North Carolina and returned home to Georgia and to her moms. I soon got into the routine of calling her once a week, usually on Sundays, just to check up on her. Mia was in so much pain. Most of the time she was just lying around or in bed. She didn’t go anywhere, didn’t see anyone, never left the house except for work. I used to tell her that she made the start of my work-week bearable because I could focus on making it through the week so that I could talk to her on Sunday. Mia just laughed at that, which was something she didn’t do a lot of, and told me I was so silly. Her laughter was music to my ears.
 
 
Eventually the phone calls turned into short weekend visits and, in between, there were “just because” cards, e-mails and letters mailed to each other. My visits were always platonic, because even though Mia was divorced by then, it seemed that an invisible Brice was always with us. An ever-seeing force. Mia never brought up his name or mentioned anything about her life with him, but he was always there with us. An unseen presence.
 
 
I felt guilty that I had fallen in love with her. Now, I know that we can’t help whom we love. The heart can’t lie. The heart won’t lie. Every time I felt a gush of love for Mia, I felt like I betrayed Brice. Sure, he was possessive, hot-tempered, jealous and always beating on her when they were married. Mia had made the right decision by leaving him, yet I felt like I was being disloyal.
 
 
So . . . I denied my feelings and kept everything platonic. I wasn’t dating anyone, and it was hard being close to Mia without being able to act on my feelings, but at least she was in my presence and in my life. That brought me great joy. A hug from her, a kiss on the cheek, her laughter—it brought me joy.

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