13. Squeak
My heart speeds up and slows down whenever I stare into Deacon’s eyes. His gaze mesmerizes me from the bright and glossy sheen reflecting in his orbs. The wistful smile Deacon is giving me doesn’t fit the hard and rough edges representative of the man he is. Yet, I find it oddly comforting, and it makes me appreciate being the woman on the receiving end of Deacon’s present interest. Not to mention the purring coming from my pussy at our close proximity, which is ultimately why I made the pillow fort. After throwing a tantrum, I can’t let Deacon know that my juices are running like a faucet. I just pray that the evidence of my arousal doesn’t penetrate his nostrils or begin to alter the masculine and woodsy scent in this room. Unlike most men, Deacon doesn’t have a California king, which piques my curiosity.
“Why don’t you own a king-size bed? I would think a man like you would want room,” I ask.
“I’m reserving the purchase for you and our future children.”
Staring wordlessly, I assess Deacon for a few seconds to see if he will retract or refute his statement because he’s got to be joking right now. When Deacon matches my eye contact, my brows furrow when a slight smile forms on his lips.
“What?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? Before now, I’ve either fucked randoms in the back of my ride, at the clubhouse, or a motel. It's why your pillow barrier is a waste of time. That spot has always been reserved for you.”
When this nigga falls asleep, I’m going to search him for the not made in America stamp he has to have on his body somewhere.
“You might as well unfurrow your brows because, like it or not, you solidified your position the minute you climbed under my sheets. Do you want a spring or fall ceremony?”
Nigga, what? Okay, God, does Hell have a foreign country code? Deacon can’t be one of the good things You smiled upon after creating him. Was it an off day for You when Deacon was thought of? I understand if it was because when I’m off, I’m liable to do a lot of strange things myself. I’m just trying to extend You the same grace You freely give me because Deacon isn’t normal.
“What’s on your mind, Squeak? Your eyes have flashed with so many emotions and thoughts. I’m finding it difficult to read you.”
How can I tell this man that I’m debating on calling the people capable of placing his crazy ass in a straitjacket?
Oh, so you’re gonna lie here and pretend like you don’t want to knock these pillows down and see if this nigga is capable of taking you to pound town? Hm. Deacon ain’t the only delulu person in this room.
Ain’t nobody talking to you, so mind your business.
Girl, bye. You’re the one talking back like an idiot.
Having a back-and-forth conversation with myself might make me as special as Deacon, but that’s beside the point. Deacon is certifiable, and I’m only slightly having an out-of-body experience from the secondhand delusions his presence invokes.
“When are you gonna stop denying your attraction for me, Squeak?”
Deacon’s question slams into my mind, causing my eyes to balloon slightly because either he can smell the evidence of my arousal, or my silent thoughts have somehow become vocal. My heart rate speeds up when Deacon’s hand caresses my cheek. Deacon’s face is full of strength, shining with a steadfast, serene peace that coats my body better than the blanket covering me.
“Let me say this another way. From the moment you forcefully entered the clubhouse, I have been drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Whenever I’m in your presence, my damn heart does somersaults in my chest. Never in my life have I had a woman have this effect on me before. I know I have a long road of discovery to walk down, but can you agree to be my woman, Squeak? After moving back home, I might not be the man you expected to be with. Nevertheless, I promise you with everything in me, I will never sacrifice the opportunity by foolishly hurting you.”
My tongue slowly glides over my dry lips, and I try to calm the rapid beating of my heart while Deacon watches me intently.
Is attraction enough for me to ignore the crazy within this man?
Staring at Deacon, I can recognize the dazzling determination and sincerity within his brown orbs.
“Okay,” I whisper, throwing caution to the wind because something deep within me is shouting for me to give Deacon a chance.
Lord, am I really about to do this?
A bright smile that lights up Deacon’s entire countenance brings a cheesy grin to my lips. Deacon moves closer before throwing the pillow separating us over his shoulder, causing the hair on my arms to prickle. The rapid cadence in my chest elevates my body temperature, and a knot rises in my throat. My calm is instantly shattered with hunger when Deacon’s lips land on mine. At first, the kiss is slow, thoughtful, and surprisingly gentle as Deacon and I acquaint ourselves. Giving myself freely into the passion of the kiss, a moan escapes my mouth, causing Deacon to take the reins by deepening our connection.
“Mm.”
Good God. Deacon’s mouth is just as reckless as the words that he speaks without shame or a filter.
My eyes close, and stars immediately burst behind my lids, making me feel like I’ve been binge drinking. My body feels like a marshmallow hovering over a fire the longer Deacon and I lock lips.
“My God,” I say breathlessly while peeling my eyes open when Deacon breaks our connection a few minutes later.
“Nah, your Deacon.” Heat surges through my core like a river between the smile that spreads on his lips and the smoldering gaze penetrating me.
“Had I known your lips would feel like that, I would have?—”
“Done nothing different. I love the thrill of a good chase, Squeak. Yet, I appreciate you being willing to give a nigga a chance to win your heart.” Pulling me closer, Deacon reclaims my lips while crushing me to him.
Janelle’s finally got a man at home.
My conscience begins singing while pumping her fist in the air, causing warmth to spread across my chest as I savor the kiss between Deacon and me.
Several days later…
“I don’t care about none of that shit. Either I can take you, or your ass won’t be going,” Deacon says with tight eyes and wrinkles dancing across his forehead.
I’m not sure what type of job Deacon has, but mine doesn’t provide me the option of not going into the office. When this subject came up last night, Deacon called himself putting his foot down by telling me he would be escorting me to work. It’s bad enough that Deacon hasn’t let me go home. Now he won’t allow me to drive myself to work.
“Look, it's been days since that stuff at the club. Don’t you think it's over, and people have moved on? Besides, I’m not a club member, so no one will be looking for me due to association.”
Yeah, especially since you already have someone hot on your trail. When are you going to tell Deacon about your boogeyman?
The question echoing from my conscience has me walking away from Deacon to finish getting ready for work. Deacon and I are too new for me to tell him about my past, which seems to be attempting to alter my present and future. For now, I’m going to keep the information between Tinker Belle and me like it’s been from the beginning. Deacon has enough to worry about with Baxtown Iron, so I’m not interested in adding to his mounting plate.
Tuh. Deacon has shown you in a short time that he’s about you, no matter what he has going on, so you’re making a mistake and one that has the potential to be costly.
Rolling my eyes, I pull my hair into a ponytail before coiling it around my fingers to create a bun off my neck. Once that’s done, I apply a light beat to my face as Deacon enters the bathroom, coming to stand behind me. Our eyes connect through the mirror before Deacon’s arms wrap around my waist lovingly.
“Listen, because somewhere between the day your stubborn ass stomped through my front door and now, I failed to make you aware of something.”
“What?”
“That over you, I will surrender my life for you and your safety. I’m not trying to throw my weight around, nor am I trying to control your moves. All I want to do is love your feisty ass and lock in the future bitch ass Satan is throwing roadblocks to prevent.”
Well, damn. What can I say about that?
“For how long?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” A smirk upturns my lips at the tightness around Deacon’s eyes, matching his frown.
“Your escort services. How long do you plan to do it?”
“Until my spirit surrenders to the confirmation that you’re no longer at risk to be harmed.”
“What do you do for a living? If you’re planning to take me to and from work, how will this alter your schedule?”
“I’m a loan officer at Ribax Financial Credit Union and have the flexibility to schedule clients however I see fit. I’ll simply arrange my calendar around your work hours.”
“What if I get hungry and want to go out for lunch?”
“What ifs are about to have you in an unnecessary and frustrating chokehold. Stop letting Satan use you, Squeak. Deaconess Redmond has always told me that though the weapon forms, it can’t prosper.”
Wait… what?
“You not only know a scripture reference but can properly use it to fit a situation. Hm. I’m impressed.”
“I fit into the group of people that 2 Timothy 3:5 is talking about, Squeak. Don’t judge me, less you be judged.” With that, Deacon releases me and walks out of the bathroom, causing me to laugh from his outlandish statements.