15. Comforter
COMFORTER
I learned about the mess with Zora in the locker room after basketball practice. As everyone packed up for the day, Dorrian checked his phone and called out to me.
“Hey, Ro, didn’t you just give seven mil to Liberation University?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Man, they president just got suspended. You might want to check on your money.”
I rushed from the showers to my locker to retrieve my phone. When I searched for Zora’s name, an article about her suspension popped up immediately. I skimmed it after noting again how gorgeous she was. Inappropriate attire, my big Black ass. They were a bunch of chauvinists from way back.
I closed the app and saw a voicemail from my accountant. Like Dorrian, he was concerned about the impact of my finances because of this pending scandal at the university.
I didn’t care about any of that. I needed to get to Zora and make sure she was alright.
After I texted her and she told me I could spend the night, I was worried.
Was she having some kind of mental breakdown?
The Zora I knew cared about appearances, so an invitation to stay with her at her very visible mansion didn’t make sense.
No matter what she said, I would park behind the mansion to protect her reputation.
I rushed from the Torch training facility and hopped in my car, my mind racing. When I was a mile away from Zora’s, I called her.
“I’m almost there. I’ll meet you at the back door, so let me in.”
“That sounds great. I’ll be waiting.” Her calm voice threw me off again.
But then again, what did I expect from her? She was cool as a cucumber under pressure, except when she delivered the bad news about funding to the audience at the luncheon last week.
This made me realize that although I wanted to know her better, I couldn’t predict how she would respond in this situation. The mask she wore was still too thick for me to penetrate.
I turned into the back road to the president’s mansion, a sterile two-story red brick dwelling with two chimneys and at least twenty windows surrounding every side of the house.
Not a flower was out of place on the sprawling lawn.
Everything was old and perfect, just like Zora’s university photo.
Nothing about this place represented the spontaneity and authenticity that I knew Zora to be.
When I shut off the ignition to my Ashton Martin, I clutched my steering wheel and took several deep breaths. I didn’t know what state of mind Zora might be in when I entered her home. She loved her job, and work rejection was no joke. I didn’t want her popping off on me again.
It’s not about you, though.
No matter her state of mind, I would be there for Zora. Hopefully, I could hold her. Maybe that would soothe both of us.
I got out of my car and stood at the quaint wooden door near the garage at the back of the house. Before I could knock, she opened it.
“Damn, woman…” I barely got the words out of my mouth as Zora locked eyes with me and tugged on the front of my plain white T-shirt, dragging me into her massive kitchen.
With my mouth open, I stepped aside for her to shut the door. As I checked her out from head to toe, she leaned against the door with her hands on either side of her.
A fresh, fruity scent lingered in the air, matching the sweetness of her overall look. I covered my mouth, then stroked my chin before covering my mouth again. Zora Langston was a chameleon, literally taking my breath away with her overwhelming vibe. What in the world was happening to me right now?
Although Zora was dressed somewhat modestly in a formfitting T-shirt and knee-length A-line skirt, she radiated sex appeal.
No stripper I’d ever seen drew me in like the woman standing before me.
We stood several feet apart, staring at each other for what seemed like minutes.
I finally shook my head and gathered myself.
“Are you okay? I mean…” I gestured toward her body.
She nodded, throwing a bashful yet sultry smile my way.
“I’m well. You’re staring kind of hard. Do you like what you see, Cairo?”
The way she said my name made me blush. I hadn’t heard it spoken so beautifully in years.
She turned from the door and in a circle, tossing her long, curled hair over her shoulder.
My eyes dropped to the obscenely high black stilettos on her pretty feet.
Her toenail polish matched the fire engine red color on her wet lips.
My eyes then traveled up her smooth legs.
I imagined lifting her full skirt to caress her hips, thighs, and butt until she squirmed beneath my touch.
Was she wearing a thong like the red one that had me hard as a rock in my bed?
Or maybe snug ones that hugged her lower body like a glove?
“Answer your own question. Do you think I like what I see?” I pointed toward my tented pants.
If this was how Zora wanted to engage, I wasn’t going to hold back.
“I love that.” She encircled my waist and drew me to her, her head tilted, and pouty red lips pointed upward for a kiss.
I planted my lips on hers as she pecked mine playfully several times.
“Thank you for coming. I missed you and needed you to hold me in your arms again.” She kissed me gently once more.
We parted briefly, and my eyes landed on her too-tight short-sleeved white T-shirt. The words “Hey Daddy” stretched across her entire chest in black script. I traced my index finger from her left to her right breast across the front of her shirt, which was thin like a wifebeater undershirt.
“Hmm…Nice shirt. A little unexpected though. Who’s your daddy, Zora?”
Zora cupped my chin in her hand and swiped her tongue over her bottom lip.
“It’s you if you want to be.”
Well damn. Zora wasn’t playing with me today.
I pressed my thumbs over Zora’s protruding nipples. As I massaged them, they grew harder. A low moan escaped her throat.
“You’re not wearing a bra either? Woman, what has gotten into you? Are you having a meltdown? Do I need to call someone for you? Lena, perhaps?” I reached for my phone in my pocket.
“I’ve already spoken with her. Hopefully, you’ll be the one getting into me soon. If you want to.” Zora gently pushed my hand from her chest and lifted her shirt, revealing firm breasts with the most delectable areolas and nipples I’d ever seen.
“They are as pretty as I imagined.”
When I said the words in my head out loud, Zora lifted my hands and placed them directly over her breasts. I squeezed and kneaded them as she bit her lip.
“You know I want you, baby,” she purred.
It should have been a crime for a board of outdated thinkers to require a woman with natural beauty like Zora’s to hide behind old lady hairstyles and clothes.
This was the Zora I wanted to adore and make love to.
I loved that she boldly shared this side of herself with me.
Although I was aroused beyond belief, something about our moment didn’t feel right. I pulled down her shirt.
“Come here.” I guided her to the couch in the room nearest us and lowered her to my lap, holding her waist firm. “Pump the brakes on whatever this is. I’m here for more than your body. Talk to me about what is going in your head.”