16. Squeak
That night…
Blame the power of hormones and alcohol coupling with the fine nigga I’m dating, and you have the perfect recipe for sexual overdrive. Deacon and I didn’t make it into his bedroom good before I was pulling his shirt over his head. The image of him between my legs with my hands holding and rubbing his bald head damn near made me dizzy. Unsnapping my bra, I discard it haphazardly, uncaring where it lands. My breasts sway, and my nipples pebble instantly from the air hitting them.
“Damn, Squeak,” Deacon says, gripping the impressive tool between his legs while watching me intently.
I had undressed Deacon before pushing him down on the edge of the bed to watch me disrobe. Blood pressure or anxiety is incapable of preventing me from finding out if Deacon is able to satisfy me. The thick, veiny, and caramel sledgehammer between his legs has my juices moistening my outer lips. The thumping in my core matches the beat dancing in my chest, pushing me to quickly remove my remaining clothing.
“Wait,” I say when Deacon pulls my body to him without allowing me to say or do anything.
“Fuck waiting, Squeak,” Deacon says before kissing me.
Unlike any of our previous kisses, this one is hard and punishing, causing a heady sensation to flow throughout my body. My core thumps when Deacon’s tongue invades my mouth, sending shivers of desire racing through me.
“Sit on my face, Squeak,” Deacon says, lying back on the bed after breaking our kiss.
My brain short circuits momentarily from the hard, husky edge in Deacon’s statement, and I freeze while staring at the smoldering gaze Deacon is giving me.
“Climb on so I can make love to my pussy.”
With shaky legs and a raging heart, I do as I’m told, allowing Deacon to assist me in positioning myself over his awaiting face. I fall forward when Deacon’s tongue swipes over my pussy, causing him to grip my thighs to hold me in place.
“Mm,” I say when Deacon sucks my pearl into his mouth and starts swiping his tongue back and forth.
Spots form in front of my eyes at the intense feeling coursing through me as Deacon continues eating my pussy. I’m not a virgin, but no one has taken the time to pleasure me orally before now. Sure, I’ve had orgasms before, but never have I?—
“Oh my God,” I moan when Deacon bites my inner thigh before smoothing the sting with his tongue.
“Get outta your head, Squeak. Rub this pretty mothafucka over my mouth until you saturate my beard.”
With nothing more to say, Deacon slaps my ass before his tongue flickers at my clit. My pelvis thrusts upward, and Deacon seems to kick into another gear when his tongue increases its tempo on my clit.
“Damn, you taste good.”
Closing my eyes, I get lost in the sensations flowing through my body, and my hips move rhythmically over Deacon’s mouth. Grabbing my breasts, I squeeze and pinch my nipples, causing tingles of awareness to flow freely.
“Dee-mm—Deacon.” I cry.
“Mhm. I’m right here, Squeak. Fuck my face, love.” Deacon’s husky voice vibrates against my pussy, and an uncontrollable shiver invades my body.
Deacon’s magical tongue alternates between sucking, licking, and slurping when sweat starts forming on my forehead.
“Shitt, Deacon,” I moan when he sucks my pearl, and I reach out to grab something due to the intense orgasm running to the surface.
“Mhm. Let that shit go. I feel it. Cum, Squeak.”
Shutting my eyes tight, I do as I’m told when my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, leaving me screaming and shaking uncontrollably from the intensity.
“Ohhhh…”
“We’re just getting started,” Deacon says before moving me into position over his dick and sliding into my entrance. “Fuck!”
“Ooh,” I say simultaneously when another orgasm comes on the heels of the last from Deacon’s dick invading my walls.
Wordlessly and with his teeth holding his bottom lip hostage, Deacon flips us so I’m now on the bottom. Staring into his eyes that are full of longing, passion, and the four-letter word I’m trying to reconcile coming from him, I bite my lip when Deacon begins thrusting in and out of me slowly.
Oh shit! I didn’t think Deacon would be a nigga capable of missionary or slow strokes.
“Never have I ever wanted to mold my dick to a woman’s pussy like I need to with you, Squeak. Damn, you’re it for me.”
Yet… never have I ever fallen in love after having sex, but you’re about to become my first.
I get lost in Deacon’s gaze as our bodies move in sync to a rhythm only the two of us will ever be able to recognize.
“I love you, Squeak,” Deacon says throatily.
I love you too, Deacon.
Me:
Is everything okay?
Biting my lip, I alternate between looking at the unread message I sent to Deacon and the clock. 2:45 a.m. Deacon and I had been lying in our post-coital bliss after showering when his phone sounded in the room. Deacon quickly got out of bed without telling me what was happening or who the caller was, wordlessly racing around the room. Deacon left his bedroom within fifteen minutes of receiving the call, and I have yet to hear a peep from him. My face is a cloud of uneasiness, and my heart rate elevates with every minute of silence from Deacon.
*bzz, bzz*
Jumping out of my skin, I quickly answer the phone when Tinker Belle’s face flashes on the screen. “Hello.”
“I’m on my way to pick you up. Deacon won’t be back and doesn’t want you to be alone.”
My face twists, my brows hike, and my forehead wrinkles at the words coming from Tinker Belle’s mouth.
“Huh?”
“Get dressed. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.” With no other words, the call drops, and I hold the phone to my ear, unable to move or process the information.
*bzz*
The Heathen:
I have disarmed the alarm. Don’t worry about locking the door.
“What the fuck?”
My stomach drops to my feet, and I throw the blankets from my body, exiting the bed after re-reading Deacon’s vague message. Stomping toward the closet, I snatch my duffel bag from the floor and start throwing my clothes in. My previous worry for Deacon and whatever situation he left the house for is officially gone. In its place is the urge to imitate Angela Bassett because this nigga got me fucked up right now. When I have everything in the bag, I leave the closet and exit the room, descending the steps, my blood boiling with every step. Once I’m on the bottom level, I open the front door and paste on a fake smile upon seeing Tinker Belle’s car pulling up.
“Hey, Sq?—”
“Don’t call me that bullshit name. It’s Janelle Capri fucking Stephens from here on out,” I snap, cutting Tinker Belle off while getting in the car.
“Uh. I have been advis?—”
“Look. You and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, so I don’t want to take this out on you. However, our shit will sour faster than the speed of lightning if you allow yourself to become a spokesperson for a nigga too cowardly to say anything to me himself. Matter of fact, take me to my parents’ house.”
“Okay. I’m going to say this, so hear me out. Some shit happened, and Deacon has to?—”
“I don’t fucking care to hear it, Robyn. Either leave the situation alone or deal with the fallout that trickles over to you.”
Fury surges throughout my body because I don’t care what’s going on within Baxtown Iron. Not only did Deacon leave me after claiming to love me, but his ass is treating me like I’m nothing more than a woman who allowed him to drain his dick. Niggas ain’t shit. What had been a beautiful exchange between two people is now nothing more than a stain I need to remove. Since when did love cause a nigga to ghost you not even sixty minutes after expressing said words? Silence surrounds the interior before Tinker Belle turns on the radio, and I roll my eyes when the lyrics hit my ear canal.
?
I wanna hear you say
You love me. You need me.
?
Any other time, hearing Fantasia’s gravelly voice singing this particular song would have me bobbing my head. Yet on the heels of a nigga showing the opposite of what his mouth easily spoke irritates the hell out of me. Clenching and unclenching my hands, I close my eyes while envisioning showing Deacon how I feel about his selfish actions. The longer my eyes are shut, the more my energy tanks, and a sinister smile forms upon seeing Eve on the beach with a group of ladies chanting a mantra.
Mhm. This nigga really ain’t shit.
“We’re here,” Tinker Belle’s low voice sounds, and my eyes open to see we’ve reached my parents’ house.
I have been so consumed with my thoughts that I haven’t paid any attention to anything but the overwhelming emotions occupying me. Grabbing the handle, I prepare to leave the car when Tinker Belle touches my arm.
“I know you’re feeling a way right now, but please be careful? That nigga is still out there somewhere, and I don’t want to worry about you.”
“Why are you acting like we’re not going to talk? Unless you’re allowing that nigga to play in my face, you’re still my bestie.”
“I’ve always got your back. Never doubt that, Janelle. Call me once the haze clears from your anger.”
Nodding, I open the door before grabbing my duffel bag from the back seat and walking quickly to the front door. Knowing the Boogeyman is still after me and the need to hide from Deacon is why I’m at my parents’ house instead of Tinker Belle’s place or my apartment. Removing my keys from my pocket, I insert my key in the lock again, pasting a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes or heart.
*toot, toot*
Without the presence of my eyes, I throw my hand up to acknowledge Tinker Belle’s horn before entering the house and closing the door behind me.
I bet I’ll be more careful fucking the next nigga.