Chapter 6 #2
I didn’t recall when he’d left the kitchen. When he’d passed me by. Or when he’d removed the wine from the cooler. But, I knew exactly where he was now. And, it was too close for comfort. Yet, comforting. The conflict was clear. Defeat was upon me.
“Stay where the fuck you are, Royce.”
His baritone dissolved the bones of my spine. My skeleton was missing so many pieces. I was spineless. Mindless. Completely dependent on what was to come from Ishmael’s lips next.
I listened as the cork of the bottle in his hand was removed. My mouth watered as the wine hit the bottom of the glass. And, when Ishmael rounded my body with the glass in his hand, I knew that I’d be in the bathroom the first chance I got.
Removing my drenched thong.
Discarding it in the trash.
And, using the first towel I came across to clean the parts of me he’d extracted without laying a finger on me.
“Ishmael.”
“You’re not leaving.”
“Why no–”
“Because I said so. You have your wine. I have two iMacs and three MacBooks here. Take your pick. The Wi-Fi is yours.”
I shook my head, accepting the wine he was handing me.
“It’s not that simple,” I explained.
“Then let me make it simpler. What else do you need?”
“I prefer working on my own devices. It’s possible yours is compromised. I can’t risk my entire client… Ishmael– please. Distance.”
His feet were planted. Unmoving.
“Have a seat, Royce. I am not against cuffing you to the pipes to help you better understand your current situation. But, I’d much rather you just sit your pretty ass down, drink your wine, and tell me more about yourself while watching me cook.
I said I’d feed you. I meant it. I’ll have you a brand new MacBook at the door in the next thirty minutes. Be patient, my baby.”
My baby?
I swallowed nothing. The air pained me as it slid down my throat. Ishmael didn’t repeat himself. He didn’t elaborate further. He disappeared.
Back into the kitchen.
Back to banging pots.
Back to preparing a meal.
Back to the forefront of my brain.
Back to the center where my yearning was so deep it hurt with each step I took toward the sofa.
The day a man can tell you what to do and you actually fucking listen, Royce, that is the man.
’Cause, you’re one hardheaded ass child.
You do things your way. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says or how it affects them.
You march to the beat of your own drum. You’re hell.
But, I’m okay with that, because it was my intention to raise hell. Eight different pits of it.
Richie lulled me as I sunk into the couch. Its warmth welcomed me.
The television rose from the compartment in the floor that I had difficulty figuring out on the blueprint. It made sense now. The 75-inch screen powered on. Pandora began to play. 6lack was the first artist on the list. I couldn’t deny his ability to set the ambience.
I crossed one leg over the other. The right mule dangled from my foot. Wine slid across my tongue. It’s sweetness paired well with the dryness. It was expected with the reds of its caliber. The glass would be emptied much sooner than later.
I lowered it. Ishmael’s presence was startling. On his knees, he peered up at me. My ankle was impossibly small in his hand.
Slowly, he slid the right mule from my right foot. And then the left. But, his eyes never left me.
His touch ignited the smoldering fire inside of me. My chest rose as I pulled in more air than my lungs had the capacity to hold. Yet, and still, I was breathless.
“I’m not ready for you to leave, Royce.”
I parted my lips to take another sip.
“I’ve gathered that.”
“And, your feelings toward that?”
“You wouldn’t have the chance to cuff me to the pipes, Ishmael. You’d be dead before you could properly open the first cuff. If I wanted to leave, I would’ve. I don’t need permission to do what I want. I’m capable. Well-capable. But, I’m telling you things you already know.”
“You’d shoot me?” He chuckled.
“I’d kill you. But, you’ve given me no reason.”
“How’d you get into this? This occupation?”
“I’m hungry. You can either stay right here and talk to me or make me food, but you can’t do both.”
“Not right here, but both can be done.”
He stood on his feet and made his way to the kitchen. It wasn’t until he vanished that I noticed the bottle of wine on the table in front of me. I leaned forward, my bare feet touching the plush rug beneath me. I uncapped the wine and poured more in my glass.
“I’m listening,” Ishmael called out from where he stood.
I tucked my feet behind me and turned my body in his direction.
“I was born into it.”
“That doesn’t explain much.”
“It explains enough.”
He cleansed the shrimp in one bowl and the broccoli in another.
“As much as I admire your strength, I want you tender, my baby.”
I gasped, choking from the wine on the way down my throat.
“Ishmael. This is business.”
“Until it’s not.”
“I–”
“We’re a couple now, according to this plan you’ve made.” He sniggered, “So I’m just telling you how I like my shit. I expect the same from you. I’m a team player. I’ll oblige.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“When a woman has my attention, you’d be surprised at how obedient I can be.”
“Hmmm. Sounds like a lot of women have had your attention.”
“If that’s your way of asking if I’ve had a plethora of women, then yes. I have. But, as of late, nah. One woman has my attention. Besides, there’s a difference in capturing and keeping my attention. No one has had that power yet, but I can bet my last dollar this one does.”
I rolled my eyes as a smile ripped through my face.
“Mayor… what led you to the point of wanting to run that race?”
“I’m for my city. I’m overly qualified for the position.
Daniels is crooked. He doesn’t deserve the seat the city has given him.
And, each day he proves it a bit more. Right now, he’s scrambling knowing that someone who actually deserves the seat is running against him and has a chance at winning this thing. ”
“Daniels is dirty,” I agreed.
“And doesn’t play fair. Neither does he win fairly.”
“You’ve heard the rumors, too, huh?”
“I don’t think they’re rumors.”
Chuckling, I sipped from my glass.
“I want this. There’s only one thing in life I’ve wanted more than this. I’m going to win the election. I have to. And, I can’t let this little mishap ruin that chance for me.”
This disappointment in his tone was gutting. His passion poured from his lips and his posture and his movements and his eyes.
“I won’t let it.”
“I’m counting on it. Quite literally. I’ve run a scandal-free race until now. Shit sucks but it is what it is, ya know. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Everything happens as it should. And, what is for you will find you. That is for me. It will find me.”
“I think so, too.”
Time was lost between laughter and glasses of wine. My cheeks hurt from laughter. Though few words had ever come from Ishmael’s mouth, I learned he was full of so many unsaid things. And, unintentionally, he was comical.
Bright.
Knowledgeable.
Innovative.
Politically correct.
Two strangers were a little less stranger with each passing second. A few things were evident from our conversation on the living room floor where we opted to dine on the coffee table over the dining table.
His mother meant the most to him.
Indigo was his heart.
He was Berekely bred, to his core.
Change was his motivation for the race he was running.
My heart made its presence known with each beat. Everything slowed to a creep, even time, as I marveled at the man before me. He was resilient. He was reserved. He was ravishing.
His beauty and his brains.
As he stood over me, arm stretched, awaiting my dish, I lost myself again. He was so easy to escape within. I forgot it all. Everything. Nothing mattered at the moment. Nothing had mattered since that night. Not when he was around. Not at the sound of his voice or the comfort of his world.
“I’m going to clean the mess I’ve made and I’ll set you free, Royce.”
The sun would settle soon. Time had gotten away from us. I’d forgotten about the laptop that had been delivered three hours ago when we’d sat down to eat. I’d also forgotten about my cellphone. My tasks. My schedule. Everything.
“Thank you, kindly, sir.”
With my wine in my hand, I slid up onto the couch. My cell hadn’t moved an inch. It was right where I’d left it. Notifications had been pouring in. I pressed the proper buttons to unlock the screen and began to scroll through them all.
Looking like you’re that bitch! Roulette hyped.
Your face is all over the news in Berkeley, babe. Rome’s concern could be heard through her text.
I’d risk it all for a man that fine, too. Range stated the known.
He is a shooter. Rugger notified me, though I’d already done my research.
He hunts. Well. She elaborated.
You look good together. Roaman’s smile was obvious through her words.
My books are open. A session to welcome him into the family sounds good, right? Rather was serious.
I love that look on you, Egypt added.
It’s just business, babes. But, I agree. He is mesmerizing. With a seven-inch, veiny tool between his legs. Let’s pray I keep my tongue and pussy juices to myself. He writes big checks.
I chuckled as I pressed the blue arrow to send my message. I placed my cell back on the couch and stretched my legs, preparing to wait for Ishmael to finish cleaning his kitchen. A shower, some good tunes, and a bed was calling my name.