17. Azalea
17
Azalea
Apartment 608.
At last, we meet again.
A few seconds after my timid knock, he answered the door with a blank stare.
“Mr. Jackson.”
“Officer Davis.”
He was clearly mocking me this time, but I ignored that.
“This is an unscheduled home visit.”
“I can see that.”
“I’ll be in and out. Shouldn’t take longer than ten minutes provided I don’t find anything in here.”
“Yes, ma’am. In and out sounds amazing.”
I ignored that as he stepped aside to let me pass. I didn’t miss the faint smell of cologne, maybe the remnants of something he’d sprayed on this morning.
I’ll be honest; I don’t know what the hell I was looking for. As I walked through the apartment, I don’t think my eyes focused on a single room or item within. All I could think about was his presence behind me, looming and stalking my every footstep like a monster. A handsome, sexy monster I wanted to attack me.
At least then, I wouldn’t have to blame myself for what happened.
“Everything looks adequate,” I finally said.
“Good.”
“Can we sit and talk for a second?”
He pointed me to the futon.
I sat and crossed my feet at the ankle like a lady. Prim and proper. The opposite of how I really felt.
“How are you adjusting to life back at home?”
“It was three days, Zay.”
My stomach flipped, betraying the detached, professional demeanor I was attempting to cultivate. “Yes, but I understand the mental preparation involved and the psychological toll even twenty-four hours can take.”
He sat on the other end of the futon and leaned back, spreading his legs out in front of him, daring me to look between them.
“Do we have to talk about this?”
“We don’t have to do anything, but I would like to do my job, and you’re making that very difficult.”
It seemed to sink in. He let his head fall back, stared up at the ceiling, and sighed.
“Okay, Officer. You sending me to jail wasn’t fun, obviously. I did prepare myself to go away, so it was lowkey like whiplash when I got shuffled right back out after three days. I’m glad I’m home, but I’m kinda…lingering in there. Mentally. If that makes sense.”
“It does.”
I reached into my bag and shuffled through the business cards in my leather case until I found the one I was looking for.
“I’m gonna give you the name of a therapist in our network. I can write you a referral if you’re interested. I’m not mandating this, but I think it could help you make the transition.”
He raised his head and stared at the card for a few seconds before he reached across the expanse between us and snatched it out of my hand.
Without looking at it, he said, “Since we’re on the subject, where’s your head at?”
“What do you mean?”
“You doing okay?”
I hid my surprise. “I’m great. Thanks for asking. Had a lovely day, I have a nice dinner waiting on me at home. Everything is good.”
“Go a little deeper.”
“I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
His blank stare gave away nothing. “You been thinking about me, Zay?”
“You mean Officer .”
“No, I mean exactly what the fuck I said.”
“I’m working, Is—Mr. Jackson.”
“Look, I understand the conflict of interest here, but can you understand things from my perspective?”
“What is your perspective? As my client ?”
“As your client, I feel like you do a good job. You’re a little too optimistic for me, lowkey bordering on delusional sometimes, but you be on your shit. Threw my ass in jail without a second thought.”
I smiled at that. “All I heard is that I’m good at my job.”
“See, that’s what I mean. You don’t hear shit if it doesn’t fit your scheme. It’s an interesting way to move. I’ve never seen it before.”
I shrugged. “As long as I’m good at my job.”
“Yeah, yeah. Beyond that, my perspective is that there’s more here than client and probation officer. Obviously. And you’re uncomfortable with that because you feel like you’re crossing a line.”
“I am crossing a line. It’s unethical. Forbidden.”
“How can I get you comfortable with it? Cuz I’m already there, but—“
“We can’t. I told you. No matter how we feel, it’s something I just can’t do.”
“First off, you already did it. And second, fuck all the rules. How do you feel ?”
I blew out a sigh. “I like you. Okay? There’s a good man in there. That’s clear to me, even with the bad attitude. I don’t know how you live like that, but I guess it works for you.”
“I thrive in negativity.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do us both a favor and call that lady.”
He laughed, finally glancing down at the card he still held. “If I do, will that get you comfortable?”
“The only thing that would make me halfway comfortable is if I wasn’t your PO anymore. And I don’t wanna transfer you out.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think I can do some good here.”
His eyes narrowed. “So, I’m your project?”
“You’re…” Our eyes locked as I struggled to come up with the words. I didn’t know how to tell him what he meant to me when I didn’t understand it. I didn’t even know him.
“You’re…more than that,” I finally said, but even that didn’t seem to capture it.
This was unprecedented.
“Good. Can I kiss you now?”
“You can’t kiss me ever .”
He smirked. “We both know that’s a goddamn lie.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You know what I noticed about you? You ain’t been kissed right in a long time.”
“How do you know that? I mean, what makes you think that?”
“A man knows.”
“You’re just guessing.”
“Makes me wonder what else you’ve been going without.”
I rolled my eyes. “I should go.”
“Before you go, come here.”
“No.”
“Why do you keep fighting it?”
“How many times do I have to say it?”
“Alright.” He put his hands up. “Fine. I won’t push. Can we talk instead?”
“Yes. I would like that.”
He stared intently. “Why’d y’all break up?”
“Who?”
“You and your man. If you had a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have been stranded when your car broke down. And you wouldn’t have let me kiss you. You’re too loyal for that. But you ain’t been single long, because you’re too fine for that.”
I sighed. “We grew apart.”
“How long were y’all together?”
“Almost four years.”
“That’s a long time. He fumbled that bad, huh?”
“I guess you could say that.” I stared down at my hands. “We lived together. I thought we were gonna get married.”
He stared silently, waiting for more, but that was all I had to give.
Or so I thought.
He was doing that lasso thing again, calling me to him, or in this case, pulling things out of me.
“He hid who he really was for a long time, and when the mask came off, it was very hurtful. I don’t understand how a person can pretend like that. Every single day. They say there are always red flags, but I don’t know. Either I was colorblind to them, or he was just that good.”
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “But anyway, I’ve moved on. And it’s good. That’s what I love about change. You get a new beginning, which is a new chance to build your dream life.”
“What does your dream life look like?”
“Wait, wait, wait. Not so fast. I get to ask you something now.”
He inclined his head.
“Why did y’all break up?”
“I can honestly say I ain’t had a girlfriend in years.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “I’ve been with plenty of women, but nothing serious enough to break up.”
“So, you’re ran through?”
He made a face. “Damn, Zay. That’s harsh. I would put it like…I’ve never really been the relationship type.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard for me to get attached to people.”
“I get that.”
“I’m already attached to you, though.”
“I think you might be projecting onto me again.”
His furrowed brows and tight jaw relaxed long enough for him to say, “I want you to transfer me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m actually trying to get to know you on a personal level. I can’t do that with you analyzing my every fucking word.”
“What’s the point of getting to know me if you’re not the relationship type? Because I’m telling you right now, I am.”
“What if I wanna be in one with you?”
“I would say it’s too soon.”
“Which brings us back to me wanting to get to know you. So, I’m putting in for a transfer, or whatever. Give me the papers and I’ll sign.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“How does it work, Zay?”
“It’s at my discretion. If I decide to transfer you, then I write it up and it’s done.”
“So write that shit up.”
I laughed at that. “I haven’t decided yet.”
He stood and walked in front of me before planting himself on the coffee table, looking at me straight on.
“Do you need convincing?” His voice had gone deep and raspy, warming my insides. “What do I need to do, Zay?”
“Stop calling me that, for one.”
He grinned. “You don’t like that?”
Ugh.
The law of scarcity or whatever. The fact that he never smiled made it so much more exhilarating when he did.
He reached out and placed his hand on my knee. “Say.”
“I need time to think.”
“Where’s my agency in all this?” His eyes roamed my face. “That’s the worst fucking part about being in the system. You don’t belong to you anymore.”
“It won’t last forever.”
He shook his head. “There goes that false hope again.”
I placed my hand on his. “Why does it have to be false? Why can’t it be that I know you have something good in you?”
He licked his lips. “Maybe I wanna put something good in you, too.”
I snatched my hand back. “I’m leaving.”
“Wait, wait, okay. I’m sorry.” He laughed like he wasn’t sorry at all. “I’m just saying. The sex would be so good. We both know that, so why are you mad?”
“I wasn’t mad. It’s the line again. You keep sticking a toe across it.”
I wanted him to stick his dick across it, but that was neither here nor there.
“So write it up.”
“I’m still considering it.”
“Yeah, fuck this.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I didn’t stop him; in fact, I wrapped my arms around his neck and met him halfway. His hands went to my waist and pulled me to the edge of the couch, a move that forced my legs open. My kitty was already purring. The last thing I needed at that moment was for her to open up.
In one quick motion, he broke the kiss, snatched off his glasses, and went to his knees on the floor in front of me. It put him right at my eye level, and he used his position to stare into my eyes.
“Can you see me without those?” I said, gesturing to his glasses.
“I see what I need to.”
His lips were back on mine. His hands were at my waist again, this time pulling my Summerville Corrections shirt out of my khakis.
The line I didn’t want to cross was getting awfully blurry. Maybe I needed the glasses.
I brought my hands to his face and deepened the kiss, bringing a groan out of both of us as his fingertips brushed the bare skin at my sides. My entire body tingled. Warm wetness flooded the seat of my panties.
His fingers worked their way up my back and unsnapped the hooks on my bra without so much as a struggle. Our tongues tangled luridly as his hands moved to the front of my body and his fingers found my nipples, plucking and pulling.
The line moved further away.
“Mmm…wait…” I trailed off, unable to speak as his tongue slid past my lips again. My nipples pebbled under his touch. My clit throbbed from his persistence. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was naked on his futon. Or his floor.
“Wait…”
His lips moved down my chin to my neck, stopping there to lick and suck the skin there.
“Isaac…”
“You want me to stop?”
His words were muffled by my skin, which his lips refused to detach from.
“Mm hm.”
“You sure about that?”
“Mm mm.”
It was the truth, but I pushed him away anyway. With my chest heaving, I whined, “I can’t. It’s not right. I’m in a position of power over you.”
He chuckled. “Lucky for you, there’s about a hundred other positions I can put you in.”
“Isaac!”
His hands gripped my thighs so hard, I let out a squeal.
“Lay back,” he instructed through gritted teeth.
“Why?”
“Don’t ask me no more fucking questions, Zay. Lay back and let me do something.”
Out of sheer curiosity, and lust, I decided to trust and obey, and a few minutes later, I found out that the something was his tongue swirling languidly around my clit.
It felt so good, I went to an entirely different place. A place where I didn’t care where I was or who I was in this context. All of those worries dissipated, leaving only pleasure behind. And when he pushed my legs up and made my knees kiss my earlobes, I started to cry.
Roman almost never went down on me. I could count on one hand in four years. That should have been a sign, but my dumb ass excused it, rationalizing it away like I did everything else. But this man right here was between my legs worshiping me, pleasing me, devouring me.
“Isaac…” I moaned and whined while he ate me out, escalating to trembles and squirms when he slid two fingers inside me.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I felt him pull away.
“Damn. Look at you, Zay. Shaking, crying, ‘bout to nut, but only when I let you. Who has the power now ?”
I opened my eyes and raised my head to stare down at him, so handsome and sexy with my juices glistening on his lips.
He bent to kiss my clit again. Just a peck.
I squirmed, growing impatient. I’d been so close.
He stared at me with hooded eyes as his fingers stroked me. “Pussy so fucking wet.”
“How do I taste?”
A faint smile played on his lips. “Sweet. Like you want this dick.”
“I do.”
“I know.”
“But—“
“You can’t. Loud and clear.” Another lick, long and slow. “You know every time you tell me that, it makes me want you more, right?”
He suckled it this time, and my body seized.
“That forbidden shit is sexy as fuck.” He inhaled my scent, then licked me again. “Got my dick so fuckin’ hard right now.”
“Don’t tell me that,” I moaned as he brought me right back to the edge.
“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll keep playing your game for now. You ready to cum for me?”
I nodded and let my head fall back as Isaac licked and sucked me to the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.