Authors: Elena Brown
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Women's Fiction
Brandon swallowed, his throat working. After a moment, he jerked his head toward the apartment door. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
Suzanne thought her heart would explode out of her mouth as she watched Brandon say hasty goodbyes to Reggie and Sarah and head out the door. She murmured her own thanks and farewells and hurried out after him.
Brandon’s apartment was a surprise. It was the mirror image of Sarah and Reggie’s in layout, with the kitchen/dining area on the left and the hall on the right. His walls were painted a really pretty greenish-grey. His furniture was a little worn, and mismatched, but all fit together well and boasted the same sleek, modern lines.
The couch was slate grey and looked plush and comfy, despite some scuffing and a few tears. There was also a plump armchair in a hunter green and black, and a low coffee table with a black lacquer top and legs that looked like brushed steel.
But it wasn’t the color scheme or furniture or artwork that was the biggest surprise: it was the books. Every free surface seemed to have at least one. Paperbacks. Hardbacks. Graphic novels. Comics.
She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips.
Brandon leaned back against his kitchen counter, his muscled arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t speak.
Suzanne’s heart was beating so hard the sound of it seemed to drown out everything else. Words began crowding onto her tongue; everything she wanted to say and things that had nothing to do with anything, like how good the jambalaya had been or about how Clara had made a comment that made it seem like she was definitely getting a full time position at WMI.
She heard her grandmother’s voice in her head. “Speak from the heart, baby.”
“My parents want me to marry Antoine.”
Brandon stiffened, the muscle in his jaw jumping, but Suzanne barreled on.
“Or someone like him, anyway. They wanted me to be a lawyer, like Daddy, and when I didn’t do that, they got it in their head I would marry one. But that was never
my
plan. I only went on two dates with Antoine, both of which were set up by my mother.”
“You still texted me while you were on a date with him.” His voice was low, and she could hear the pain in it.
She moved forward and touched his arm. The muscles beneath her fingers jumped. “I have a hard time saying no to my parents. My mother especially. She means well, even when she’s behaving like a barracuda. She wanted me at my father’s cocktail party, and then she threw Antoine at me. I hadn’t been planning on seeing him again. I was so bored and…” Suzanne shook her head. “No, there’s no excuse for what I did. But I need you to know that he and I are not together. We’ve never been together. We will never be together.”
The words fell heavily between them. After a moment that seemed to last a year, Brandon blew out a long sigh. He lifted a big hand and laid it over hers.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“I should have told you about Antoine from the beginning. I’m sorry about that. And I’m really sorry about the way my father and mother spoke to you. They were out of line.”
Brandon shrugged, a massive shifting of his broad shoulders. “I get it. I’m a bit more rough around the edges than they’re used to, yeah?”
“You’re wonderful.” She spoke the words softly, squeezing his arm.
A little bit of the tension drained from his face and just the hint of a smile flirted with his lips. “I’m not worried so much about whether or not
they
like me.”
His message was clear. Suzanne leaned into him a little. “I definitely like you, Bran. I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I… I liked coming home to you on Friday.” The admission slipped out on a breath.
Brandon’s head dipped, his forehead resting against her shoulder. His scent, that faint hint of smoke, enveloped her. But his big body was still tense. His breath tickled against her skin as he exhaled.
“My ex… we’d been together for five years when she cheated on me with my best friend.”
Suzanne felt as if he’d slapped her with the words. Her fingers tightened, digging into his warm flesh. “Jesus, Bran! I’m sorry.”
He lifted his head and met her eyes, his own blue wary. “Not your fault. I know that. But can you maybe see why it brought up some shit when I found out you were on a date with another guy when you were talking to me?”
She pulled away, half-collapsing against the island that separated the kitchen from the dining area. She braced her hands, facing him, her pulse thrumming in her throat. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but wasn’t sure if he’d welcome that.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself, pressing against the soft curve of her stomach.
“Of course. Of course I can. But I swear to you, Brandon, if Antoine and I had been together, if we’d been serious… I never would have texted you.” She gave him a slightly crooked smile. “No matter how sweet and funny and hot you were.”
He shifted against the counter, his posture relaxing a little. The tightness of his shoulders lessened and he widened his stance.
“I want to believe you, babe. I really do.”
“Well, I’m back to being ‘babe’, so you’re wavering.” She touched her foot to the side of his. “That’s a good sign, right?”
Brandon smiled, but she could see the faint line still lingering between his brows. He did want to believe her, but was having trouble trusting. Given what he’d just told her about his ex, she could understand why.
“Just… give me a chance to prove it?” Her stomach felt like it was tied in a knot. A really intricate one, like the fancy cravats gentlemen used to wear.
He met her gaze and held it for several long, slow breaths. The struggle going on behind those brilliantly jeweled eyes hurt her heart.
Brandon had said he wasn’t worried about her parents not liking him. But she was afraid it would factor against her, that she hadn’t stood up for him, hadn’t told her parents about him. It was more weight on the untrustworthy side of the scale.
His big fingers tapped against his arms rhythmically. Suzanne thought of her grandmother’s advice and spoke the words that seemed to trip to the edge of her tongue.
“I don’t want this to be over.”
Brandon’s nostrils flared. “I don’t either.” The words were ragged.
They stared at each other, breath loud in the still apartment. From next door, the faint strains of big band music drifted through the walls. Suzanne imagined Sarah and Reggie dancing.
Could that be them someday? Together for fifty years. She remembered Sarah’s words, that love wasn’t science: it was magic. Sometimes, people just worked together.
On paper, she knew she and Antoine looked like a perfect match. But in reality, there had been no spark. No reaction.
She and Brandon, on the other hand? Even now, she could feel the pull, the urge to move closer to him. She thought of their date, walking down the Highline, how she’d felt as comfortable with him as if they’d known each other for years.
Every step of the way since the first moment they’d met, they’d seemed to be moving in sync with each other. Complementing each other perfectly.
So her parents didn’t approve. So what? That was hardly the end of the world. And, like Christine had said, if she really put her foot down and told them he made her happy… they loved her enough to support her even if they didn’t agree. They’d eventually come around about her career, and they would on this too.
But she’d have to tell them he was important to her. She’d have to stand her ground.
“I’ll be honest from now on, I swear. With you and my parents. Can you take another chance and trust me?”
He scraped his teeth over his lower lip, his eyes roving her face, and then gave a sharp nod. “I’d like to try.”
Giddiness surged through her blood. Brandon stepped forward and took her hands in both of his.
He took a deep breath. “This, between us… it’s… I think it’s something important. It scares the crap out of me, but the more time I spend with you, the more I think this is the real deal. I have feelings for you. Like, real, deep, scary feelings. So… if this is just a diversion for you —”
“It’s not!” Her heart hammered against her ribs. She squeezed his big fingers. “It’s really not.”
Brandon smiled then. Really smiled, broad and dimpled and gorgeous. Suzanne’s breath caught and joy swept over her skin.
She slid against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body tight to his. His smile faded, replaced by a blaze of heat in his eyes as she lifted on to her tiptoes.
Suzanne pressed her lips to his in a slick satin kiss, tongues twirling. His hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging into the rounded flesh of her buttocks. She buried her fingers in the fine, silky blond strands of his hair, holding his mouth to hers.
Pleasure sparked along her nerve endings as she crushed her breasts against Brandon’s hard chest.
She put all her confused, passionate, overwhelming feelings into that one kiss, pouring it into him, with wet heat.
After several minutes, Brandon slowly lifted his head with one final nip to her lower lip. He leaned his forehead against hers.
“So, ah…” He cleared his throat. “Do you want to stay for dinner? We sort of missed out the other night. I was going to make homemade pizza.”
Suzanne rubbed her nose gently over his throat, inhaling deeply before trailing kisses along the edge of his jaw. Brandon groaned. She leaned up and sucked at his earlobe, biting down gently.
“Dinner later. I think we’ve still got some making up to do.”
His hands stroked her back before moving down to pull her hips tighter to him. She could feel the long, solid length of him throbbing against her belly.
“Oh yeah?” One blond brow rose.
Suzanne began drawing him back toward the bedroom, her mouth curving in a smile. “Yeah.”
Brandon handed Henry a fresh glass of scotch. Suzanne’s father took the drink and clapped him on the shoulder.
“So, are we still on for Sunday morning? I’ve been bragging on you to Landon at the firm, and he doesn’t believe me that you’re under par for that course.”
“As long as your daughter doesn’t spring some last minute plans she hasn’t told me about. She does that sometimes.”
Suzanne sashayed up to his side and slid her arm around his waist. “What do I do sometimes?”
“Look amazing.” Brandon grinned, pulling her closer, and dropped a kiss on the side of her neck. She smelled like vanilla and cherries. Brandon squeezed her tighter.
“I only do that sometimes, huh?” Her whisky brown eyes twinkled up at him.
“Babe,” he said, lifting her chin. “
Always
.”
It had been a year since they’d first begun seriously dating. A year full of ups and downs… but mostly ups. Suzanne’s parents had been cool to him at first, but once they’d realized he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he loved their daughter, they’d come around.
Heck, he and Henry played golf at least once a month these days.
“There you two are!” Monique Headley glided across the room, her hair perfectly upswept, her dress designer. She was smiling, and though it wasn’t as broad as her daughter’s, he could see a resemblance.
Beside him, Suzanne rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “What is it now, Mother?”
Monique’s plucked brows rose, and her gaze slid to his. Brandon chuckled. “Don’t look at me,
I’m
happy to see you.” He winked. She flapped her hand at him, but her mouth curled at the corners.
“The photographer wants to get a few more shots of the four of us.”
Suzanne sighed, but the three of them followed Monique to the front room, where the photographer was waiting. As the small, dapper man arranged them in front of the fireplace, Suzanne leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
“After this, let’s get out of here.”
Brandon chuckled, his blood heating at the huskily breathed words. “Already? Your parents are only going to have one thirtieth anniversary.”
“Maybe. But we need to get home and start working toward
our
thirtieth.”
His chest got tight when she said stuff like that. Since that first stumble, she’d never given him any reason to worry, or question her loyalty. In fact, he’d never trusted Hillary the way he trusted Suzanne.
They finally managed to extricate themselves from the party after he promised Henry yet again that they were on for Sunday morning, and Suzanne assured her mother they would have lunch mid-week.
Suzanne’s new, full-time position at WMI had begun the week before, and Monique wanted to take her out for a celebratory meal.
The ride back to his apartment was long, but he didn’t mind. With Suzanne snuggled up beside him, her riotous curls blowing into his face, he wouldn’t have cared if it had taken twice as long.
If anyone had asked him that morning when he went in to pay his renter’s insurance if he was looking for a serious relationship, he would have said ‘hell no’ but then he’d laid eyes on Suzanne. She’d changed his whole life.
They balanced each other well. When she was inclined to be too serious, he could get her to relax. Her constantly upbeat attitude lifted him up during the times he let things get to him. Their interests and personalities meshed so well, he couldn’t help but believe they’d been made for each other.
They’d come from different backgrounds, had different upbringings, moved in different social circles, had different ethnicities… yet they were perfect for each other. It could only be fate that they’d found each other.
Pleasure sparked along his spine as Suzanne pressed her curvy body against his back as he slipped the key into his apartment door. Her hands came around his waist, smoothing up his chest.
“You’re impatient.” He chuckled as she began to undo the buttons on the dress shirt he’d worn to the party.
Suzanne slid one warm hand inside, gliding over his bare skin. Her fingers traced the valleys and ridges of his abdomen, teasing the sensitive spot on his hip.
The gentle caress set fire to his blood.
“Are you complaining?” Suzanne giggled, dipping just the tips of her fingers under the waistband of his slacks. Her lush breasts pressed against his back.
Brandon reached down and covered her hand with his, sliding it down until her warm palm cupped his growing erection. She gave his thickening shaft a playful squeeze, making him grunt.
“Does it feel like I’m complaining?” He turned the knob and pushed open the door to his apartment, pulling her in after him.
She shoved the door closed, already tugging his shirt from his slacks, baring his chest. “I wish you didn’t have to work tomorrow.” Her small hands pushed the shirt off his broad shoulders.
He slid his own hands up her back, searching for the tab of her zipper. The dress she wore was beautiful, a deep purple satin that looked lovely against her skin and hugged her ample curves. Before they’d left for the party, she’d happily given him a few giggling twirls, sending the flared skirt up and out, baring the smooth expanse of her upper thighs.
Now, he wanted her out of it. “I only work until six. You’ll get me all night.”
“Yeah, but you’ll have to go to bed early so you can get up and play golf with Daddy.” She pouted, her full lips pursed invitingly.
He bent and pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue sliding between her lips. She kissed him back, the heat and passion in every glide and flick of her tongue making him groan. He’d never kissed anyone who kissed him the way she did, as if she couldn’t breathe without him.
Ever since that first date, that first kiss on her doorstep, every time their lips touched he felt how much she wanted him. And now, how much she loved him.
Every inch of his skin felt hypersensitive. Suzanne’s hands roamed his back, gripping his ass and pulling him into her.
“Bran, baby,” she moaned against his mouth. Her voice held that syrupy, husky tone he loved, the one that she had when he’d just woken her up… or she was turned on. Given the way her hands were now tugging at his belt buckle, Brandon didn’t think she was tired.
He chuckled softly as he dragged the dress down off her shoulders and over her hips.
“So, do you want to meet for breakfast Wednesday morning when I get off my 15?”
Suzanne gave a sexy little growl as she pulled his belt free and flung it somewhere into the living room. “Talk to me about breakfast later. Right now, all I want to hear are groans.”
She slid her hand into his pants and wrapped her fingers tight around his shaft. Brandon shuddered as her palm slid up and down his cock.
“Fuck. Babe.” He moaned against her collarbone.
“That’s also acceptable.” Her laugh was breathy and dissolved into a gasp as he cupped one large breast in his hand and lifted it to his mouth, sucking the stiff crest between his lips.
They peeled each other’s clothes off, stroking, kissing, nipping, and licking the skin they exposed. He took her mouth in another deep, wet kiss, groaning his approval when her fingers tightened in his hair.
She pulled back, panting. “Bedroom?”
It only then occurred to him that they’d barely made it into the apartment. He had her pinned up against the kitchen island, his throbbing cock nestled against her soft belly, his hands gripping the lush curves of her ass.
Brandon kissed along her jaw to her ear, grinning against the sensitive flesh just beneath her earlobe. “Bed later. First...”
She squealed, kicking her legs out as he hoisted her up onto the island. He chuckled as she gasped. The tile was no doubt chilly on her bare skin. He’d just have to work to warm her up.
“Bran!”
His kissed her again, sucking at her lower lip. Her hands clutched at his shoulders. He trailed his mouth down her throat, tasting the faint salt of her smooth skin. The scent of vanilla and cherries, sweet and tart, enveloped him.
In his palms, her breasts were heavy and soft, her nipples stiff buds rising from the puckered areolae. He caressed her pliable flesh, rolling the hard peaks between thumb and forefinger.
Suzanne whimpered, her head falling back as she peered down her body at him.
Brandon scattered kisses across her upper chest. Her legs moved restlessly, the soles of her feet rubbing the backs of his calves. Her thighs shifted, tightening around his hips.
He curled his tongue around the tight peak of her breast, drawing on it hard and nipping gently with his teeth. Suzanne shuddered, a cry catching in her throat. Brandon stroked a big hand down between her breasts, caressing the soft flesh of her stomach.
“Lean back.”
Her eyes were hot on him as she obeyed, her chest heaving.
Brandon dropped slowly to his knees. He gripped her hips in his big hands, kneading the rounded flesh and tugging her to the edge of the island.
“Spread your legs.”
Suzanne’s lips were parted on her ragged breaths, but she smiled as she slid her legs wide apart.
The soft glow of the kitchen lights gleamed off her dark skin. Brandon caressed her thighs, pushing them open wider. The outer lips of her pussy parted, giving him a glimpse of her pink, wet inner folds.
“Mmm, babe.” He kissed her knee. “Look at you, all spread out for me.”
“Bran.” The fingers of her left hand slid into his hair, her short, manicured nails scratching lightly against his scalp. She rested one foot on his shoulder, her toes curling and arched her back. “Don’t tease me.”
He chuckled against her thigh, his tongue flicking out the lick at the crease behind her knee. Suzanne’s whole body shuddered.
Brandon trailed two fingers down her slit, collecting the silky moisture gathered there. He loved the feel of her flesh here, satin soft, hot, and wet for him.
He traced circles around the engorged nub of her clit. “Who’s teasing?”
She cried out as he pushed his fingers slowly into her tight channel. Brandon groaned against her inner thigh as her silky walls fluttered around his digits. Above him, she was panting and began rocking her hips.
He pumped his fingers in response, drawing another cry from her lips. More of her juices wet her folds and he couldn’t draw it out any longer. He leaned forward, swiping his tongue from where his digits plunged in and out of her up to the apex of her pussy, sucking softly at her clit.
Brandon loved her taste, tangy and sweet. He lapped at her, spreading his fingers within her so he could wiggle his tongue in as well.
Suzanne’s fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. She arched into him, riding his tongue and fingers. He explored every crease and fold, licking, nibbling, sucking, seeking her pleasure. He twisted his fingers and curled them, rubbing the spot on her inner wall that drove her the most crazy.
When she came, her thighs squeezed his head and her toes dug into his back. Brandon didn’t relent, though he did slow his pace, leisurely stroking his fingers in and out of her clenching, fluttering passage as he gently laved her sweet pussy with his tongue, avoiding her hypersensitive clit.
She lay back on the island now, limp, head hanging down as she panted through her release. Brandon loved seeing her like that, satiated by him. It made his already painfully hard cock throb.
“Now,” he said, voice hoarse with his arousal, “it’s time for bed.”
He took her hand and helped her down onto shaky legs, but before she could take a step, he bent and scooped her up, an arm behind her knees and one around her back. Suzanne inhaled a sharp breath and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Brandon was glad she didn’t make a crack about him straining his back lifting her. Most of the time, he knew Suzanne was comfortable in her own skin, and loved her curves every bit as much as he did. But every once in awhile, she let her insecurities get the better of her.
And though it was true she was no stick figure, he was more than strong enough to handle carrying her down the hall to the bedroom.
“What are you going to do to me once we’re in bed?” Suzanne kissed his shoulder and neck, her body still humming in the aftermath of the orgasm he’d given her with his mouth and tongue.
Before Brandon, she’d always been somewhat hesitant about oral sex — both giving and receiving — but with him, she felt comfortable enough to let go.
He tossed her gently onto his king bed, making her heart flutter.
Brandon’s big body was gilded by the moonlight pouring through his bedroom window. It turned the soft, curling hair on his legs, arms, chest, and groin silver. The thick, long length of his cock pointed up toward his sculpted belly.
Suzanne licked her lips, reaching for him as he stepped up to the edge of the bed. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft, pumping slowly, drawing a bead of clear pre-cum from the small slit.
“God, babe.” Brandon’s voice was thick with arousal, and she knew he was aching. He’d been hard since they’d stumbled into the apartment. She’d gotten to come once already.