"I met someone,” Arabia confided to her sister, Maya. She was the only one of her sisters whom she told such things to; although she knew the minute they hung up, Maya would be on the phone with their other sisters blabbing her mouth, unless Arabia told her to keep it between them.
“Mmm. Oh, okay. So is he married?”
Arabia rolled her eyes. Her sister was being messy. “No.”
“Whaaaaat?” she screeched sarcastically. “Girl, not married? And you like him?”
“I guess.” She shrugged. “I find him interesting.”
“Lord, Jesus,” Maya exclaimed. “You find someone who isn’t married interesting. Oh, I know we’re in the last days now.”
“Whatever, smart-ass. I can’t stand you.”
Maya laughed. “Lies. You know I’m your favorite big sis.”
Arabia rolled her eyes, smiling. “Maybe.”
“Maybe my ass. So tell me about this someone who you met who isn’t married. Does he have a girlfriend?”
“No, he . . .” Wait. She had no idea if he did or not. Have one of those. A girlfriend. She frowned. Not that it really mattered. Truth was, he was a distraction. He was everything she craved and shouldn’t want, and yet she allowed him to tempt her at every turn. And what disturbed her most was, she liked him tempting her.
They’d been talking and texting practically every day since her last date with him, but she hadn’t thought to ask him that. She knew he had to be giving that long, black dick to someone. Still, a part of her didn’t believe she had a right to ask considering her own situation.
Yes, she was single. But she was still involved, even if she didn’t feel attached to any of them. Well—with Theodore dead and Eric now running around like a nut—there was now only Wellson, whom she adored, but . . .
“He what?” Maya asked, cutting off her train of thought.
“He doesn’t. I don’t think.”
“You don’t think? Well, don’t you think you might want to know?”
Again, Arabia shrugged. “It’s really not that important. It’s not like I’m trying to marry the man. I simply said I met someone. I didn’t say I was running off to elope.”
Maya sucked in a breath. “Now wouldn’t that be a treat. You married.”
“Uh-huh. Good luck with that. You have a better chance at having another set of twins before that happens.”
“Girl, shut your mouth. My name is Maya. Not Alexis. I’m not pushing out any more babies, not out of this cooch. I already told Chase if he even thinks it, I’ll slice his dick off. And he knows how much I love that thing.”
Arabia groaned. “Ugh. TMI. I don’t need to know anything about your love for his thing, girl.”
Maya sucked her teeth. “Whatever. So did you fuck him?”
Arabia blushed, feeling heat swirl through her body, remembering how her pussy had sloshed around his dick the night he’d picked her up and thrown her down on his bed, pinning her down and taking what he wanted.
Gone lightheaded, Arabia had cried out in delirious abandon, her nails raking his muscled, sweat-slicked back as he plummeted her over the edge of bliss with his deep, delicious strokes. His dick feverishly sliced into her cunt, filling her, stretching her, fucking into parts of her body she hadn’t known existed. She’d been so wet. No. Fucking wet. So wet that her pussy juices sluiced out of her trembling body, and soaked the sheets beneath her.
She had always prided herself on having a juicy snatch, but the way Cruze’s cock had slashed into her core, its thick shaft brushing against her quaking walls, stroking over her swollen spot, she was flooded with arousal, drowning in it, like never before.
If his cock had felt that delicious wrapped in latex, she only imagined what it’d feel like naked. Oh how she’d wanted to feel him raw inside her. Oh, God, what the hell had she been thinking? He’d fucked her senseless.
He’d fucked her so hard, so wet. His big dick had plundered all through her pussy, knocking at the opening of her cervix. Surely there had to be a wet stain and the scent of her cunt still lingering in his mattress.
She remembered slapping him for getting all caveman on her, manhandling her. But after that, the world had blurred around her as he pounded into her. He’d fucked her with a savage force, animalistic need and want overwhelming him—and her—as his dick slid in and out of her. She’d never been fucked breathless before.
When she finally blinked him back into focus, he was smirking at her, taking everything she was, everything she’d ever be, and he’d taken it all for himself, leaving nothing for anyone else. He’d fucked her as hard as needed, and she received him willfully. His mouth brushed her neck and then he’d sunk his teeth into the column of her silky skin, eliciting a mewling from her.
He’d marked her. Let whoever else she was fucking know that she’d whored herself out to another motherfucker.
Cruze Fontaine was everywhere he shouldn’t be—in her head, her memories, all over her skin.
The thought alone made Arabia shiver with want.
When he’d finished with her, she’d limped her way to the bathroom to freshen up, hoping whomever else that manwhore was fucking sniffed her out the next time the arrogant fuck had that bitch’s ass up, and her face pressed down into his mattress.
Would serve him right.
He was lucky she hadn’t been messy enough to leave her panties tossed under his bed.
Ooh, he made her want to—
“Umm, hello?” Arabia heard Maya’s bangles clanking as she clapped her hands together. “Are you there? Earth to Arabia.”
Arabia’s lids fluttered. “Yes.”
Maya sighed. “Yes to what?”
“Yes, I’m here. And, yes, I fucked him.”
“Ooh, you filthy slut,” Maya hissed, and then they both burst out in laughter.
“Yes, girl. I’m slutty to the core.”
“Bitch, I can’t stand you. When I grow up, I want to be just like you. I love how sexually carefree you are.”
“Life is too short not to be,” she said unapologetically. “I refuse to be deprived.” And, yet, Cruze had managed to deny her his tongue and somehow she was okay with it—for now.
There was something clearly wrong here.
Arabia walked into the kitchen and eyed her smartphone on the bar. She flinched when she saw the number of missed calls and texts. From Wellson. From a blocked number—Eric, she was certain. From her mother.
Ugh, her mother. Why couldn’t that woman simply leave her the hell alone? She added no value to her life. Never had, never would.
She needed to call Wellson, she thought. They needed to have a serious talk. She’d been avoiding him—sort of. Making excuses to not see him. Making herself unavailable to him over the last several weeks. He never pressured her, never made her give more than what she was willing to give. She never imagined ever contemplating ending things with him. She never wanted to end things with him. He’d been a constant in her life for the last three years. But now . . .
He wasn’t enough.
He’d never been enough.
None of them ever were.
Yet she’d kept him around because she truly liked him. But she loved the trips and the gifts more.
But now she found herself liking Cruze more. They were only fucking. Well, had fucked. And, yet, she felt strangely connected to him. And, for some odd reason, a sliver of guilt surged over her for still being with Wellson, even though it’d been weeks since she’d been intimate with him. It wasn’t like she owed Cruze, Wellson, or anyone else any explanations. And it damn sure wasn’t either of their concern whom she gave her pussy to, either. But, crazily, she felt she needed, she wanted, to break things off with Wellson.
But why?
Cruze offered her no guarantees. She’d just met him, for Christ’s sake. So why the hell was she considering abandoning what she knew, what was constant, for some fleeting fantasy with some big-dicked playboy who didn’t kiss, or eat pussy?
She needed to stop this foolishness. And stop it now.
“I know that’s right,” Maya said, slicing into Arabia’s thoughts. “Do you. Live your life. Now back to this man who you’ve fucked. Was it good?”
Arabia closed her eyes and shuddered. His touch, his mere presence, alone made her wetter than a lake. The man made her want to crawl out of her skin. He made her come hard. Made her pussy hot. Made it spew her juices like an erupting volcano.
“Yes, girl. It was. Had me in my car driving down to Philly for it.”
Maya laughed. “Ohmygod. You driving to a man for some dick? Oh yes, the world is definitely coming to an end.”
Arabia rolled her eyes up in her head, but she laughed as well. “Whatever.”
“So far, I like him.”
Arabia’s cell buzzed. She stared at the caller ID, and smiled. Thick Chocolate. The name she’d programmed into her phone for him. Her body flushed at the thought of him.
God, she had to get ahold of herself before she went up in flames. She pushed the phone aside in a feeble attempt at not answering. She didn’t want to come off desperate. Thirsty. Hungry.
But, shit—she was desperate, for more of him. She was thirsty, for another taste of him. She was hungry, for more of his good fucking.
She smiled. “Yeah, I like him, too.”
Maya chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing. I was thinking, what if you’ve finally found someone you can love.”
Arabia coughed. “Oh, no, bitch! Don’t curse me. You know I’m severely allergic to that.”
“Girl, bye. How would you know? You’ve never been in love.”
“Well, I’ve been in like. Close enough.”
Maya snorted. “Lies. But you keep telling yourself that. Then again, this is you we’re talking about. Miss Heartless. So, yeah, you might be right.”
“Ohmygod, Maya. Kiss my ass. I’m not heartless.”
“Okay, Arabia. Whatever you say, boo.”
Arabia’s phone vibrated, and this time it was a call. Thick Chocolate.
Heat swept through her.
Oh, God . . . fate or omen?
The devil was trying to make her sin.
She wanted to answer. Wanted to hear his voice.
And she had to fight an inner battle to not want those things. She had to fight the urges, even as the sight of his name on her screen sent a flutter of butterflies twirling in her stomach.
The call went into voicemail.
“Anyway. Does this someone you like have a name?”
Arabia smiled. “Yes. Cruze.”
“Cruze?” Maya repeated. “What kind of name is that? Is he black? Please tell me he isn’t some white man, Arabia.”
Arabia laughed. “No, Maya. Relax. He’s not white. He’s very much black.” She licked her lips at the thought of suckling his dark berry to get to his sweet juices.
She yanked her phone from the counter, and texted. HEY
She was holding her cell, staring at it, when it buzzed in her hand.
WYD? he texted back.
“Well, that’s a relief. Is he mixed?”
Arabia shrugged, then shook her head. “I don’t know. With his high cheekbones and smooth dark skin, he could have some West Indian in his blood. Or maybe he’s . . .”
THINKING ABOUT U, she responded back in earnest. It was the truth.
“Or maybe he’s what?”
Arabia shook her head. “Straight from the Motherland. No. He is from the Motherland. He’s an African warrior.” Mmm. Hung like a Zulu god.
Arabia grinned, then bit into her bottom lip.
She wanted to see that man. Had to see him.
I’LL CALL U. 5 MINS?
Seconds later, he sent another text. COOL
She set her phone down, her body overreacting and overheating to raw feelings of excitement, desire—and need. God, he made her feel so vulnerable and raw, like he was peeling her skin back and opening her up.
She couldn’t wait another moment longer. “Maya, I love you, girl,” she said abruptly. “But I gotta go. I’ll call you one day next week.”
“Well damn. Who said—”
Click.
She ended the call, before she could finish her sentence. Then she reached for her cell again.
And called him.