Love Redeemed, Book 4 (45 page)

Read Love Redeemed, Book 4 Online

Authors: Love Belvin

BOOK: Love Redeemed, Book 4
3.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“We used to it now,” Samantha notes.

“Yeah, beloved. We feed ‘dem our leftovers. They like ‘da trees outside; they just there,” Yazmine adds.

Interesting.

“I spoke to Azmir earlier,” my mother murmurs.

“You know the IRS is now tryna’ get at him? I can’t believe ‘da trouble ‘dat pig putting him through,” Yazmine hisse
s.

Azmir has been in the news lately about his affiliations. Nothing significant has hit the circuit, but the IRS audit has been on the rumor mill. If I’m honest with myself
, I’ll admit to being worried about him. I wonder how he’s making out. If he’s he eating? Where’s he sleeping?
Is he thinking about me?

It’s been
nearly two weeks since I left him out on that beach. I’ve returned to work, counseling, dance, and Bible study. But I haven’t gone back home. He stopped texting and calling when I moved my things in here a week ago. I’ve had plenty of time to think, and while I don’t believe I’m dismissive of his major infraction, I know that I can’t live without him.
Does that make me some type of post-accomplice to his drug world. Am I like First Lady Drug Lord?

Was he a real kingpin?

If I could stand the sight of him, I could get a better understanding of what he
was
. Nothing about his drug world is being reported on the news. Yazmine hasn’t uttered a word about it and neither have Chanell and Kim who I met for lunch over the weekend. I don’t think his silence has ever been so painful.

What’s bizarre is how my period
was late until earlier today when I found my panties lightly soiled. I came in from work today, threw on a tampon, and I’ve been feeling a pinch of blues ever since. A few days ago, in my crazy mind, I had flights of fantasy of being pregnant, though, I’m sure, loneliness was driving that wish. I still don’t want kids. But I want him, a piece of him if that’s all I can get.

“What’s on ya mind, beloved?”

Things go quiet. I don’t know how to respond. I’ve not discussed Azmir with anyone since our split. I’m embarrassed to speak my truth aloud. Silence spans for minutes long as I fight my emotions. I’m struggling to keep them within.

I lose.

“I miss him,” I cry…like actual tears, tears that won’t hold or slow. It’s almost like breaking a dam.

Within seconds
, I feel two sets of warm arms surrounding me. Though I can’t stop the tears, I don’t understand why I feel so sad. I know that if I returned home to the marina, Azmir would welcome me with open arms. It isn’t that complicated a situation. Yet, my emotions can’t take my circumstances. My reasoning doesn’t resonate with feelings. I’m a mess.

“You want me to call Azmir, honey?” my mother asks thoughtfully. “He’ll be right over, I know it.”

“Yeah, he would,” Yazmine confirms.

“No!” I choke out, suddenly finding an anchor for my rabid emotions and unrelenting tears. “I’ll be fine. I’m not ready yet.”

Samantha throws Yazmine a knowing gaze. What it means, I don’t know and quite honestly, right now I’m feeling extremely sleepy.

“I’m going to shower then to bed. I’ll be fine,” I murmur as I toss the blanket off
and saunter into the house.  

~~~~~~~~~~

 

As I lay on th
e most distressing air mattress, trying to find my way to sleep, suddenly I hear the doorbell ring. I wonder who it could be, seeing that neither Yazmine nor Samantha know many out here that could visit at this hour. It has to be close to eleven at night for crying out loud.

I hear animated chatter from afar.
What in the world is going on?
The voices are getting louder as they come closer to the back of the house.

Ahhhh...
Now, I can hear, in detail, distinct voices! 


Azmir, beloved, just give her some time alone. Don’t go running her off,” Yazmine admonishes.

Azmir? Here? What does he want this late at night?

Immediately
, I hear my mother chime in, with her not so inconspicuous whispering, “We making strides. You sure you wanna risk ‘dat, barging in here, forcing her to talk?”


Time, baby, time,” I hear his mom beseeching.


I just need to talk to my wife,” Azmir’s baritone is laden in distress. It is a tone that I don’t recognize. “I’m not here to harass her. Please…just give me a minute to speak to her,” he demands in a manner that is not to be wrangled.

The
CEO’s here
.

Right after that
, I hear my door open. The light glares from the hall as Azmir’s lengthy frame appears larger than life, quickly opening and shutting it behind him. 

I
lay on the air mattress frozen, unable to move, barely able to breathe. This man still has that affect on me. I don’t know what his purpose is for being here. I faintly hear him finagling with his possessions—at least that’s what I presume—before approaching me.

Suddenly
, I feel him reaching for the bed, in search of me. He immediately locates me. I’m still lying stiff as a board, in total shock of his presence.

Is h
e angry?

Will he harm me for staying away for too
long?

“W
hat are you doing here?” I ask briskly.

He d
oesn’t respond right away. In fact, the silence is so long that I wonder if he’s going to answer at all. The room is so quiet that I’m afraid to swallow, sure that he’ll hear the awkward sounds of the anatomical workings in my throat. I can’t speak. I’ve nothing to say.


It’s been eleven days since you’ve left me. And thirteen since I’ve touched you,” his voice is impassive and steady. “Our bed is cold and unwelcoming since you’ve been gone. Azna doesn’t even sleep there anymore. He’s been in his own bed.” He snorts, “Imagine that.”

Under the
darkness of the room, I smile. I’ve missed Azna. Clearly, I miss my bed. I grossly miss the accoutrements of the high rise at the marina. And now that he’s just inches away, I realize how much I’ve missed Azmir’s heavenly scent. His virile and robust presence. The way that his natural body oils mix with his cologne, has always stirred my libido.

I reach over to the floor
lamp, switch on the dim light, and have to give my eyes time to adjust. When they do, I see my husband, kneeling over me in dark suit pants, and a lavender dress shirt with the first few buttons undone. I grab my cell to check the time.


Why are you here...dressed like this at this hour?” I ask, sounding more annoyed than curious.

Funny thing when you’re beefing with your spouse; asking trivial question
s such as their whereabouts isn’t supposed to feel so odd and inappropriate, but they do in middle of a battle.

“I just left Chesney’
s office. We’ve being going over documents—ill-formulated evidence, my business licenses, earnings, employee files, expenditures, business associates, former filings, travel...all types of shit,” he murmurs as he rubs his eyes.

Azmir
is heavy-hearted, exhausted from the weight of the world resting on his mortal shoulders.


I’m sure that was daunting,” I genuinely sympathize. 


You have no idea,” he exhales, massaging his temples as his elbows are planted in the mattress. “But nothing compares to the torment of losing you,” he adds on a whisper, looking deep into my eyes, the way he always does when he’s in search of my soul.

I shake my head in frustration of him mentioning
us
.


Azmir, I just need some time to—”

M
y words are interrupted by his leaping towards me to cover mouth with his own.

In no time
, he buries his tongue into my mouth. I’m besieged by the hint of spearmint on his breath and the urge in the lashing of his tongue. Azmir grabs the sides of my face with both hands in an ardent grip. Butterflies disperse in my belly as though it’s our first kiss. Naturally, my tongue responds and out of nowhere, my breathing increases. I’ve been so disconnected from my world that I’ve forgotten about the electrical currents that courses my frame when he touches me. My body begins to shiver, and suddenly he stops.


It’s time for you to come home, baby,” Azmir’s weary gaze meets mine, and the determined gleam in them bears into me. “I’ve been sick without you. You’ve asked for time and I’ve given it. I’ve even used it to think about the confusion and pain I’ve caused you.” His eyes fall. “And what I’ve come up with is that I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. Rayna, I have very little reference of what life was like before seeing you in my boardroom that day, long ago. I need you—forever. No more secrets. No more hidden cards.”

His eyes
are so weighed. I’ve never seen him so desperate or deprived before. His valor is absent. His bravado, on hiatus. His equanimity, completely gone. I don’t want to reduce him. I have no intentions on further breaking his spirit. I only wanted space to think about if this life with him is something I want. 

My
feelings of frustration, loss, emptiness, and confusion come rushing back in. On cue, my tears start to fall. “Azmir, you kept an entire life...a world from...” I have no more voice to speak.


No...no! No, baby. Don’t cry!” he whispers as he moves onto the mattress with me. “I only wanted to make you happy. Not betray you. I swear,” he continues before throwing his lips against mine and forcing his tongue in my mouth. Seconds later, his soft lips travel down the side of my face, onto my neck.

My
intoxicated eyes slowly close, welcoming the passion. An involuntary moan slips my mouth. Azmir’s hands find the end of my slip and lifts it up to my belly.

Oh, no! What is he doing?

He then peel
s the strap from my left shoulder and kisses it tenderly. His lips light a torch to my skin, sending tingles trickling to my groin. Then he repeats the same with my right strap and shoulder. His soft, moist, and full lips cure every internal pain and cause my skin to prickle in excitement as I writhe beneath his exploratory mouth. He pulls the top of my slip down until my heavy breasts are freed and plop out. With wild eyes, he regards them before dipping his head and excitedly licks them. He exhales loudly and groans as he indulges. I feel my insides lubricating and struggle to put aside every carnal feeling to try to end this.

“Wait, Azmir...”
I pant.

Mmmmmmm...

His
mouth feels so good. My lower abdominal muscles tighten, alerting my conscience that my body is ready for intimacy with my husband, prepared to mate with my primal partner. With both hands he grabs my breasts, pulls my nipples close together, and licks them swiftly with delicious, firm laps. 


Ahhhhhhh!” I belt as quietly as I can as my body bows off the mattress. “Azmir, we can’t—”

I try
warning him before he cuts me off, demanding, “Shhhhhhh...”

He greedily tug
s at my panties, lacking finesse, but signifying his desperation and peels them off. 

Oh, no!


Azmir, I have to—” he places his left index finger on my mouth as his right finger searches my private area.

He d
oesn’t go straight for my clitoris, which tells me he knows. He finds the string and pulls it out, tossing it onto my panties. He kisses my kneecaps while unbuttoning his shirt. Then he sheds his pants and boxers. My heart pounds my chest watching him. His thick, heavy, and pulsating erection springs out strong.
My, how I’ve missed it
. I could just kiss it. It looks so delectable that my mouth waters in direct response. Azmir is absolutely beautiful. That, sometimes inconvenient, fact could never get old to me. He’s stunning in every sense—public and private.

Although ever
ything about this night is odd—the location, the circumstances our marriage is under, our undeniable passion and apparent need for each other on an air mattress—one thing is familiar and that’s the indisputable amount of sexiness this man exudes. He’s clueless of it, but it’s irrefutable. Now that he knows my little…red secret—seemingly before he got here—I’m more relaxed. But I have to say something before we indulge.

He pushe
s my legs far apart.


I just don’t want—” he interrupts me.


Baby, there’s nothing you can say right now that will keep this hungry man from being fed what’s his.” He groans gutturally as his body descends over mine.

The next thing I fe
el is the head of his erection lashing my feminine muscles, spearing me. I gasp at his fullness as he plunges abruptly. It’s painful at first, but there’s that thing called muscle memory, when my body recalls Azmir’s bullet-like presence in this region. It’s powerful, he’s powerful. This is not his usual style—not that anything is ever typical about our sex. His breathing is erratic with every plunge and pull.

Other books

Phantom lady by Cornell Woolrich
The Big Lie by Julie Mayhew
Storm Glass by Jane Urquhart
Data and Goliath by Bruce Schneier
A Really Awesome Mess by Trish Cook
Birmingham Friends by Annie Murray
Monahan 02 Artificial Intentions by Rosemarie A D'Amico
North River by Pete Hamill
Scent of Evil by Mayor, Archer
The Alien by Josephine Bell