Three
Emory
“W eren’t you supposed to be on your way back to work?” Bree crooned as I moved my mouth over her neck leisurely, her slowly inclining movements to give me more space to savor her directly in contradiction with her words.
Since that first Sundate —her word, not mine—she and I had been locked in. Hanging out whenever our schedules allowed between her place and mine, caking on the phone when we were too busy otherwise, and shit like this… Me popping up on her at the studio during the day on my lunch break, trying to figure out how I could make her pretty ass my dessert after we’d just shared a quick meal.
All of that resistance she had been throwing my way before had blown away like a plastic bag in a strong wind.
“Are you…not enjoying this?” I murmured into her skin, sinking my teeth into the spot I knew would make her melt.
“Mmmmm,” she purred. “Never said that . But my…oooh…door’s not locked.”
“Nobody’s here yet, right?” I murmured, bringing one of my hands from resting at her waist to the top of her thigh, sliding a finger beneath the rim of the leotard she wore with a little sheer skirt over it..
“No,” she breathed.
“Then let me enjoy my dessert,” I said before gently peeling her thighs open and moving my kisses lower. My fingers were moments from sinking into her wet pussy when the door to her office opened and a voice called out, “Baby girl, I was able to talk the print—oh! Oh!” Then the door slammed and Bree went rigid before pushing me off of her, straightening her clothes, and muttering, “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”
I ran a hand over my face, trying to suppress my natural urge to laugh at having been caught by, presumably, her mother mere moments away from making this situation an even more awkward one. I walked over to Bree’s desk, squeezing a bit of a sanitizer she kept there onto my hands and rubbing them together before grabbing her at the elbows, stopping her frantic pacing.
“Hey,” I said softly, bringing her gaze to me. “You alright? Talk to me.”
Bree dropped her shoulders, her head soon following as she muttered, “This shit is so embarrassing.” Then she shook her entire body out before straightening up and refocusing on me. “C’mon, let’s go get this over with.”
I trailed her out of the office, amused at her reaction.
“You can stop hiding in your office now, Mommy! I’m decent,” Bree called out.
Moments later a fluff of gray hair peeked through the doorway, the head attached slowly coming into view.
“Damn, did your daddy’s genes even fight back?” I said before I could stop myself.
That caused both versions of Bree—mine and the thirty years or so in the future one—to erupt into laughter as Mrs. Turner finally fully emerged from her office.
“Aubreanna, I didn’t know we were entertaining company otherwise I would have knocked. I just assumed you were ignoring my texts like always,” her mother said saucily as she made her way over to stand before us. “Are you going to introduce me to your young man?”
“Mommy, must you always be so… never mind. Mommy, this is my friend, Emory. Emory, this is my mother, Angeline Turner.”
I held a hand in her direction for a shake, but she looked at it skeptically, wrinkled her nose, then said, “ Friend , you say, Aubreanna? With the way he had his hand all in your pocketbook? None of my friends would dare dig through my purse like that, they’d simply just hand it over.”
“Ay, yo,” I murmured, unable to stop the chuckle after that wild ass metaphor.
Bree’s jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly, glaring at her mother and gritting, “Can you not do this right now?”
Reading the room and knowing when that mother-daughter stare down commenced that it was probably best I got my ass outta Dodge, I said, “I’mma gon’ head and get outta here, baby. Seems you and ya moms got some catching up to do. Mrs. Turner, a pleasure, despite the…circumstances. I hope to make a better impression the next time our paths cross.” After those words I pressed a quick kiss to Bree’s temple, reversed field into her office quickly to retrieve my keys that were resting on the coffee table, then headed out of the door without a backwards glance.
It wasn’t until I got back into the relative quietness of my office that it hit me, rubbing me the wrong way. Bree had introduced me to her mother as her friend . Not “a guy I’m seeing”, not “my man”, but a fucking friend? Was that how she saw our connection for real? Did she not feel the same way I felt? Because whenever I talked about her to anybody she was fa sho “my baby” or “my girl”. I wouldn’t dare describe this bond we had, this relationship we were building, to anyone as “my friend”. Distracted after stewing on that shit a little too long, I decided it was time for me to hit up the source of my irritation and get some clarity on what exactly she meant with that “friend” shit. Instead of waiting until I got home, I hit her up on my commute.
“Hey, you,” she greeted warmly when the FaceTime call connected.
Seeing her beautiful, smiling face covered in the slightest sheen of sweat made some of my frustration fade. I peeped her surroundings, then frowned slightly.
“You still at the studio?”
“Yeah, DJ got food poisoning. I had to step in and teach his intro to hip-hop class this evening. I was putting together a simple routine when the phone rang.”
“Damn, sorry to hear that about buddy from You Got Served ,” I joked, making her groan into a laugh.
“You are so aggravating with that.”
“I’m just sayin’, buddy ass was grilling me like I had my hands all over his girl and he was finna challenge me to a dance battle,” I said, coming to a stop at a red light, pantomiming pop locking while I could take my hands off the wheel, “Nigga don’t even know he woulda got served by me .”
“Emory, please,” Bree said between shrieks of laughter. When she finally sobered she continued, “Something is seriously wrong with you. Are you just leaving work?”
“Yeah, and I wanted to talk to you about something, but I thought you’d have left the studio by now ’coz I’d rather do this face to face.”
“Ooooookay, is something wrong?” she asked slowly.
I gave her a confident smile. “Nah, baby. I just think we need to gain some clarity about a couple things.”
“Why does that sound foreboding?” she said, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
“Ay, chill out. I promise it’s not, love. Trust me, aight? Hasn’t it worked well for you thus far?”
Bree let out a slow breath. “If you say so…”
“When are you done with the class?” I asked.
“Seven-thirty,” she replied.
“Aight, how about this? Let’s do a late dinner at Georgie’s. I’ll be by to scoop you at about eight-thirty?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Bet it up. See you soon, gorgeous.”
“Laterrrr.”
Hanging up that call, I immediately pressed the button on my dash to prompt the robot maid who lived in my phone to ask what I needed. After calling Georgie’s Bistro and setting up a reservation plus an extra little surprise for Bree, I headed home to change outta my work clothes into something more casual, dressed in a gray Nike Tech fleece and Cool Grey 11s when I headed out to pick up Bree a couple hours later. Per usual, she came to the door looking and smelling edible in a T-shirt dress nearly identical in color to my fit and a pair of high top Converse.
“Look at you tryna match my fly,” I teased, leaning to place a soft kiss onto her already upturned lips.
“You wanna be me so bad,” Bree shot back, sticking her tongue out at me.
I leaned forward once again, capturing her tongue with mine and deepening the kiss this time, giving her a proper hello. She pulled back from me, chest heaving as a grin slowly spread across her face before she lifted a hand to wipe what I assumed was her smeared lip gloss from my mouth.
“I don’t think this is your color, babe,” she quipped with a giggle, then reached into her bag to pull out some kinda wipe. After she’d cleaned my face to her satisfaction, I threaded our fingers together and led her to my car, securing her inside before I got in and we rolled out. Bree pulled down the visor, using the mirror there to touch up her lips before she said, “I’m surprised your ears weren’t burning all afternoon. You were the topic of conversation for the entire time Mommy stayed at the studio.”
I chuckled. “Not exactly the way I saw that first meeting going, but fuck it, we ball, right? I mean it was bound to happen sooner or later considering the recital is right around the corner.”
“I don’t follow,” Bree said, confusion evident in her tone.
“You don’t think I’mma be in the audience acting a fool for my niece and my girl at this thang? Damn, baby, and here I thought you knew ya man.”
“You’re using those words rather loosely for somebody who hasn’t really established what it is we’re doing exactly,” Bree murmured lowly.
“Hm, interesting,” I said.
“What’s interesting about the truth?” Bree shot back quickly. “Granted we have been kicking it pretty tough lately, but there’s been no discussion of who we are to one another or what we are doing with one another. And I’m not saying this to try to pressure you into making some grand declaration or something. It’s way too soon for all that. We’re exchanging vibes and testing the possibilities, right? No labels have been agreed upon or exchanged as far as I know?”
I nodded, licking my lips. “You got that…”
The conversation was cut short once I pulled up to the valet and our conversation—or lack thereof—for the rest of dinner was awkward and stilted. So much, in fact, I almost nixed the surprise I’d set up earlier. But nah, that wasn’t me. I couldn’t go out like a damn punk. Not this time. Not with this woman. So instead of letting her beg off dessert, I insisted that she share the chocolate torte with me, even if she only had a singular bite. The server gave me a wink before assuring us she’d put it in immediately and sauntering away.
A few moments of silence passed between us before Bree said, “You know I don’t really like chocolate all that much, right? You couldn’t have at least gotten the bread pudding? I coulda took the top off the Maybach in my belly for that,” with a grin.
“Top off…” I repeated, then shook my head with a chuckle. “Sometimes you gotta just trust me, Bree. Step outside that box you’ve had yourself trapped in for so long,” I replied, uncharacteristically nervous all of a sudden, but tryna keep it cool.
Seconds later the server reappeared, the dessert under a dome as she placed it in front of Bree.
“Y’all enjoy,” the woman said before scampering away quickly, giving me a discreet double fingers crossed signal.
“Now I don’t know why she put this in front of me,” Bree said, tryna push it over in my direction.
“Just take the top off, baby,” I urged her, making her eyes flit up to mine briefly before she did as I asked.
It took less than a second for her to realize two things. The first being that the little chocolate swirls on the plate weren’t an abstract design, but actual words, reading: will you be my girlfriend? Her eyes shot up to mine once the words registered and I gave her a cocky grin.
“That established enough for you?” I asked.
“Emory, you… I…”
“Answer the question, baby.”
“Which one?” she said, giggling.
“The one with the answer that’s more important,” I shot back impatiently, worry building in my core that she was delaying me from hearing an answer I didn’t want or wouldn’t take well.
“Well it’s a good thing the answer to both questions is the same. Yes, Emory, I will be your girlfriend and yes, this,” she said—picking up a spoon and digging into the dessert as she registered the second thing; I’d ordered her favorite dessert—“is definitely established enough. Even though you’re a liar.” She brought the spoonful of bread pudding topped with a caramel swirl ice cream to her mouth, letting out a sinfully sexy moan as soon as the sweet treat hit her taste buds.
“Nah,” I said, picking up my spoon and digging in. “Never a liar. I told you, baby, you simply have to trust that I have your best interests at heart at all times.”
No further words were exchanged as we finished the dessert, settled the check, then headed back to Bree’s place so I could establish a few more points that we needed a lot less clothes to cover.
* * *
“Emory,” Bree sang softly. “I know you’re not still sleeping…”
Those words were followed by the feel of her fingers slowly trailing up my chest until her hand gently cuffed my beard, turning my face toward her. I couldn’t help the smirk that curved my lips as she tugged my face toward hers, lips hovering just inches from mine.
“Open your eyes,” she whispered.
And when I did, the pure lust I saw shining in her gaze was nothing short of magnificent. It didn’t matter how many times I was allowed the pleasure, waking up to Bree’s beautiful face would forever be a privilege I was grateful for.
“What time is it?” I grunted, knowing by the lack of light in the room that it had to be hella early.
We’d finally gotten to the day of the recital. Bree had been on go for the past few days, making sure everything was set at the venue. Our local Black Arts Theatre allowed them usage of their space thanks to a longstanding relationship between BAT and Turner Dance Studio. Last night, they had completed their final dress rehearsal in the space and I managed to convince Bree to take me home with her. I knew she had to hit the ground running early the next morning and wanted to provide my special brand of calming to her the night before. She’d been adamant that I didn’t keep her up too late, so after just one round we’d knocked out. That was more than enough for me as I was content just being in Bree’s presence, loving the way having my arms wrapped around her as we slept peacefully felt.
“Just before six,” she murmured.
“Mmmm,” I said, pulling my body from its reclined state and resting my back against her headboard as I stretched. “What time you gotta get outta here?”
“Not until nine or so,” she replied.
“You nervous?” I asked, picking up on what she wasn’t saying as much as the words that came out of her mouth.
The more I settled into consciousness, the more I could feel the anxious energy that permeated the room and I could visually see Bree was sort of off-kilter. She sat on the bed next to me, arms wrapped around her bent legs as she rested her head on her knees and turned her face in my direction.
“That’s an understatement.”
“Talk to me, baby. Let me help you get them nerves out before you go be the superstar we both know you already are.”
That earned me a timid grin before she blew out a long breath.
“Logically, I shouldn’t be nervous. I’ve been by Mommy and Grandmommy’s sides for countless years watching them pull off this programming, but it’s the first time that I’m the one in charge of everything . I just…” she trailed off, heaving another sigh. “I dunno. I just wanna make sure I get it right. Make sure I live up to the trails they’ve already blazed, you know?”
I nodded, then reached over and pulled her onto my body, so she was straddling my lap. Her head went to my chest immediately as she cuddled up, inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. I pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before I wrapped my arms around her securely and spoke.
“From what I’ve seen…and granted I haven’t been around long…you’re doing just that, baby. Munch can’t stop singing your praises. I see the way those kids look at you while you’re training. The reverence they hold for you. The parents too. I won’t tell you to not be nervous because that’s not something easily controlled, but I will say that I know you’ve got this and the show is gonna go off tonight— and tomorrow —without a hitch. You were literally born to do this, babe. Proof positive of your family’s legacy. There’s nothing for you to live up to because you have always been an integral part of it.” I kissed her temple again. “It’s not on you, love. It’s in you.”
That last part garnered me a chuckle as Bree pulled back, looking up into my face. “There you go with always having the right thing to say,” she quipped.
“Just giving you my truth,” I replied.
“Thank you,” she murmured, leaning up to press her lips against mine.
“Anytime. That’s what I’m here for,” I said.
“Are pep talks all you’re here for?” she asked, starting a slow grind in my lap.
Around Bree it took damn near nothing for me to be hard and ready to go, something she took full advantage of instead of waiting for me to respond. Within seconds she was sinking down onto me with a full, throaty groan.
“I’m here for whatever you need, love,” I replied, lips against her neck, hands at her waist as she started rocking.
“Good,” she said, bottom lip snared between her teeth as her movements picked up speed. “Because I need this too.”
Hours later I found myself in the audience beside my mother, Eb, Flo, and Amaryllis as we awaited the beginning of the show. Lily was dancing in three pieces and had helped Bree and one of the other instructors create the piece for the five and six year old classes, something my mother had been telling everyone who sat near us as we waited for the show to start.
The curtains parted and Bree came out looking fucking amazing. Her hair was in its natural state, wild and free, framing her face, just how I liked it. She wore light makeup, gold jewelry, and a simple black dress that looked amazing on her lithe form. I stood up clapping immediately, even releasing a wolf whistle. She blushed slightly before giggling and blowing me a kiss then sobering so she could act in her official capacity.
“Good afternoon, y’all,” she said into the mic, gathering the attention of the crowd. “We are so honored to have you all in the house today for Turner Dance’s annual recital. Some of you have been with us for years, but for the ones who are new to how we do things around here, I just wanted to give you the spiel. Everything you think you know about attending a dance show, throw that out the window. These babies have worked so hard to bring you their very best and we want them to feel it with every kick ball change and hip pop. Don’t shy away from making some noise to show them love throughout the whole show, you don’t have to stick to that polite applause at the conclusion of the piece type vibes. I know we’re a people prone to expressiveness, so I invite y’all to show it as much as possible.”
Those words elicited a chorus of “heard you”, “say less, sis”, “aight, bet” from attendees all around the auditorium. Shortly after Bree’s speech, the show began with a progressive order, the dancers increasing in age with each piece, with a tiny bit of intermingling of ages and levels along the way. The crowd was into it from the jump when the preschool aged kids performed…well as best as they could anyway…a little routine to Kriss Kross’s “Jump”. I laughed at the sheer number of times I heard “ get it, babiessss ” from multiple women in the crowd, my own mother and sister included. And of course me and Flo were the loudest in the building when Lily had her solo in the advanced teens section.
The entire ninety minutes was a good ass time, something that—prior to being acquainted with Bree—I would have never pegged as something I’d actually be looking forward to seeing again. Before I knew it, we were giving our applause to the final curtain call and the show was done. Instead of waiting around for her to make her appearance, I grabbed the bouquets I’d brought to the show and headed backstage to find Bree. It didn’t take me long to come upon her, as she was swarmed by the teens in her advanced program, all of them squealing and jumping up and down as they bombarded her with hugs.
“Uncle Em!” Lily squeaked when she caught a glimpse of me from the corner of her eye, then detached herself from the rest of the group to come over to me. I wrapped an arm around her instantly, squeezing tightly before pressing a kiss to her cheek and stepping back. “You did ya thang, Munchie!” I said loudly, earning a glare.
“Not in public,” she gritted through her teeth, eyes narrowed into slits.
“My bad, kid,” I said, quickly bringing the small arrangement I’d copped for her into view. “These are for you. You did an amazing job, proud of you.”
Lily’s glare shifted into a beam as she grabbed her flowers and hugged me once again. “Thanks, Uncle Em. You’re the best! Are you coming out to eat with the family after the show?” she asked.
“You know it,” I replied.
Lily dropped her voice slightly and whispered, “Are you bringing Miss Bree too?”
I shook my head, chuckling. Bree and I’s relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, so I wasn’t sure why Munchie thought she had to keep it low. Nevertheless, my response was swift, “Yep, we’ll both be there.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go find Mom and them,” she said. “Thanks for my flowers again.”
She took off before I could even respond and when I looked back in the direction where Bree had been getting swarmed, she now stood there solo, a wide grin spread across her face. I strolled in her direction slowly, taking her in from head to toe. When she was in arm’s reach, I pulled her into me with one arm, extending the flowers I’d gotten her with the other.
“Congratulations, love,” I murmured, lowering my head toward her neck to place a lingering kiss there. “The show was amazing. I know it’s gonna be even better tomorrow.”
“Baby girl, we need to…oh!”
I pulled back from Bree, shaking my head because not her moms rolling up on us in a semi-compromising position again.
“Hello again, Aubreanna’s friend ,” Mrs. Turner said, an amused smirk playing about her lips.
“Mommy, please ,” Bree groaned.
I chuckled, stepping forward with the final bouquet I held, extending it in her direction. “Last time we saw one another I didn’t make the best impression.” She grabbed the bouquet, grinning at the brightly colored flowers. “Bree told me tulips were your favorite.” I extended my hand. “Emory Brookes, Aubreanna’s man , nice to see you again.”
“Oop I know that’s right,” one of the teachers from the dance studio muttered as she passed us.
Mrs. Turner knocked my hand out of the way, instead moving closer to me for a hug. “Please, call me Angeline,” she said as we embraced briefly. “Especially since I have a feeling we’ll be seeing you around for a little bit.”
“A lotta bit if I have anything to say about it.”
“Oh I like him, baby girl,” her mother crooned.
“Anyway, you were saying, Mommy?” Bree said, trying to redirect her mother’s focus.
“Whatever it is can wait until later. You go enjoy your young man. We can chat in the morning,” Mrs. Turner… Angeline called over her shoulder, already having walked away from me and Bree.
“That lady…” Bree murmured with a grin.
“You almost ready to roll?” I asked, looping my arm back around her waist.
“Just gotta make sure everyone’s outta here, then we can leave,” Bree said. “I am starving .”
“Your ass hasn’t eaten since you left home earlier, have you?” I asked, mock-sternness coating my words.
“I plead the fifth,” Bree chirped immediately, guilt all over her expression.
“Yeah, aight. Let’s get these folks up outta here so we can meet the fam at eightoneeight. Eb made a reservation.”
“That’s… not gonna be weird is it?” Bree asked cautiously.
“Hell nah,” I said confidently. “Eb been hoping this would happen since she introduced us in Vegas. And my mama boutta be happier than a pig in shit knowing somebody has finally locked my ass down.”
“You were out here like that?” Bree asked, raising a brow.
“What’s that you just said? I plead the fifth. Yeah, that sounds good,” I replied, shooting her a charming grin right after.
“Oh your ass was a menace out here, I just know it.”
“Key word is was , baby. I ain’t in them streets no more, just in your sheets.”
“You are so…”
“Devastatingly handsome, magnetic, charismatic?”
“Full of shit,” Bree quipped, laughing and bringing her mouth to mine for a quick kiss. “Aight, let’s get going. My stomach is damn near touching my back right now.”
“After you, my love.”
My mother hadn’t stopped smiling since we sat down. Of course she was familiar with Bree as Lily’s dance instructor and she and Mrs. Turner actually went back further than that. But now, seeing Bree at my side, as my girlfriend—when she was wholly convinced I would never settle down—had brought her an extra level of joy. Right now they were just chatting away, Bree patiently answering the damn near thousand questions my mother had lobbed her way since we’d arrived at the restaurant. Thankfully, she’d not veered off into asking Bree anything super personal, mostly chatting with her about the dance studio and her former professional career.
Eb leaned over to me and cracked, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your mama this damn happy. All because your bigheaded ass finally decided to get some act right.”
I chuckled, turning to my sister with a grin. “Oh she’s my mama, now?”
“When you the one who put that big goofy ass grin on her face, of course she is,” she quipped. “Bree’s a good look for you, for real, baby brother.”
“Thanks for the stamp of approval I never needed.”
“Mmmhmmm, you’re welcome.”
“I’m sure Emory wouldn’t mind bringing you,” Bree said, bringing my attention back to her and my mother’s conversation.
“Nah, nah, nah, what y’all over here volunteering me for?” I asked Bree who just gave me an impish grin.
“Bree was telling me that they have a senior movement class on Saturday mornings. I might not be able to get down up there on that stage like her and lil Munchie, but I’d like to give it a try. Get these old bones moving a little bit.”
My mother famously did not drive. Never had when our dad was still alive because he took her everywhere she needed to go and since then either me or Eb had been responsible for her transport.
“I got you, Ma,” I said, wrapping my arm around Bree’s shoulders and leaning down to speak into her ear. “Now when she starts getting on your nerves, don’t come calling me,” I murmured for only her to hear.
Bree giggled, a throaty, damn near sensual laugh that shot straight to my dick. I used my free hand to take a sip of water and will myself to calm down. It was second nature though whenever Bree was around, my dick was always on go, ready to bury itself within her at the soonest chance possible.
“Oh you two are just so cute,” my mother cooed from across the table. “Make sure you keep this one in line, Bree. He’s a bit of a wild card.”
“Oh trust me,” Bree replied with a smirk, “I have no problem keeping this one outta trouble.”
“Now why you out here lying to my mama, knowing your ass is trouble and I stay tryna get into you as much as possible,” I uttered, low enough that only Bree could hear.
“Can you behave for once, Emory?” she warned, but the twinkle in her eye let me know she wasn’t denying a single word out of my mouth.
“Don’t know the definition of the word, baby,” I remarked, making her roll her eyes.