Taeja

12. Chapter 12

12

“Yes.” Damon glanced between his girl and the guest. “This is Taeja.”

Taeja’s eyes narrowed on the woman. “Who are you?” she asked with a trace of attitude.

“I’m Liza, their friend. We go way back,” Liza said with a bright smile. She walked toward Taeja and spread her arms wide. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

Taeja chuckled as she placed the shopping bags on the floor, then stepped into Liza’s hug. Damon’s tense stance slackened. He never intended for them to meet when the situation could’ve been misread.

“They haven’t told me much about you,” Taeja said, ending the hug.

“I figured,” Liza said while linking hands and walking away. “I dropped by earlier to say hey to them, but then Damon just got up and left me. And for me and you? We should get to know each other…”

Their voices faded, and Damon chuckled to himself. He was happy Liza took a quick liking to Taeja, and vice versa. These two women were amongst the few who meant everything to him.

Placing the bags in his hand on the floor, he went to the kitchen in search of Zain. Zain was leaning on a counter and taking large chugs from a water bottle.

Damon crossed his arms and glared. “Are you done being childish, or are you ready to talk now?”

Zain moved the bottle from his mouth, his grip tightening around it as he repeated slowly, “Childish? ”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Childish . You know the shit I’ve been through, and you’re gonna say I’m childish?”

Damon’s arms fell to his sides, intensifying his glare. Zain’s hair was back to its usual state of framing his face, so Damon couldn’t read his expression clearly. But he saw Zain’s eyes peeking through the long locs, their fiery gaze mirroring Damon’s anger. “I’m not downplaying what you’ve been through. I’m saying you should stop being angry at the wrong person.”

“Wrong person?” Zain scoffed. “Please tell me who I’m supposed to be angry at.”

“The mercenaries.”

Zain looked away while repeating a word laced with mockery and disdain: “Mercenaries?”

“Anyone except Liza. She’s never been anything less than a friend to you—”

Zain snapped his head around so fast, it was a miracle his neck didn’t snap. His locs shifted, revealing newfound anger burning in his eyes. “So, Liza’s just a fucking saint, huh?”

“Yes, she’s a saint! Did she tie you up and torture you?! No, she didn’t.”

Zain scoffed and started walking away. “Believe what you want. I’m going home.”

“Yes, leave! Don’t come back unless you’re ready to put that behind you.”

Zain paused to look over his shoulder. Before his eyes could meet Damon’s, the ladies bolted into the kitchen.

Taeja glanced between the fuming men, her brows knitting. “What’s happening?”

Zain’s fist clenched while Damon’s jaw tensed. “Nothing,” Zain said, walking away.

“Zain,” Taeja rushed out, causing him to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Taeja’s brows furrowed further. “You are home.”

Zain glanced at Damon, his face a passive slate while Damon’s glare deepened. With a slight shake of his head, Zain looked at Taeja. “This isn’t my home,” he said, then took long strides out of the kitchen.

Taeja looked at Damon while Liza sighed. “What happened?” she asked, wincing as a loud slam drifted through the house.

“Nothing,” Damon stated bitterly.

Refusing to accept that answer, Taeja marched toward him. She craned her neck to look at him, her eyes flashing many emotions. “What did you say to him?”

Memories slammed into him, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you taking sides?” he asked, his voice sounding foreign to his ears.

Taeja shook her head. “What? No! Mi naa pick nuh side. I want to know what you said to him that made him angrier than usual.”

Damon’s gaze flickered to Liza, who was frowning at the floor, then he looked at Taeja. “I didn’t say anything to him that he doesn’t already know.”

Taeja scoffed and crossed her arms, making her breasts more defined. She snapped her fingers before his face, breaking his brief trance. “Mi eye up here so, Damon. Wa yu seh to Zain?”

“I told you.”

“That isn’t an acceptable answer.”

His lips parted to tell her that the answer was acceptable to him, but it slammed shut when Liza joined their conversation.

“I’m going to… go,” Liza said, her voice low.

“I’ll drop you home,” Damon offered, wanting space to clear his head.

Liza shook her head. “No, that’s fine. I’ll call a taxi.”

He wanted to insist, but he decided against it. He knew how Liza got whenever she caused an argument between him and Zain. Damon nodded.

Liza smiled, looking at Taeja. “I’ll see you around, Tae.”

“Safe journey home, Liza,” Taeja said, not looking away from Damon. Once Liza was out of earshot, Taeja asked more calmly, “What happened, Damon? I don’t like that you guys are arguing… Did I do something?”

Damon’s brows crinkled as he looked at her. Taeja was immensely worried; she even looked scared. Her timid expression was slowly but surely melting the ice that was overcoming him.

“No, baby,” he said, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. He liked how she felt in his arms — so small, so perfect, and calming him in that way she always could. Unwillingly pulling away, he told her, “This is between me and Zain. You didn’t do anything.”

“Was it Liza?” she asked, and he tensed, the action not going unnoticed by her. “What did she do? I only heard bits and pieces, so I don’t—”

“Don’t worry about me and Zain, Taeja. You didn’t do anything. Focus on that, okay?”

“But—”

He gave her a pressing look, silencing her. She sighed, then hugged him.

Damon wrapped his arms around her, rubbed her shoulders, and kissed her atop the head. “I’m going to the office to clear my head for a bit. Will you be okay by yourself?” he asked, and she nodded. “I’ll try to be back in an hour. If I’m going to stay longer, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” she said and pulled away. She tipped and placed a kiss on his lips. Settling on the soles of her feet, she gave him a small smile. “Don’t work too hard.”

“I won’t,” he said, chuckling.

Taeja followed him to the door, waving until the house disappeared out of view.

Locked in a confined space with nothing but silence keeping his company, Damon’s thoughts were consumed by Zain. He understood that Zain experienced a traumatic event; it wasn’t his right to tell Zain how to process it. But did it make sense for Zain to be angry at someone who didn’t partake in his torture? No, Damon didn't think so.

Damon’s grip on the steering tightened as more thoughts of Zain settled at the front of his mind. He tried to ignore them, but they were like a big red blob on a pristine white sheet. He couldn’t dismiss them; he couldn’t ignore them.

Even though they weren’t identical, Zain was his other half. Whenever they argued, Damon’s entire being was thrown off. He wanted to go to Zain’s house and apologize, but he forced himself to continue driving in the opposite direction. When he arrived, he made a beeline for his office and immediately began working on the many files stacked on his desk.

The workload dragged on for minutes, but it didn’t quell Damon’s frustration as he hoped. Sighing, he stood and stretched before powering down all his devices. Damon exited his office and made his way to the underground car park. A handful of cars occupied the huge space. He was in his car and driving out within minutes.

A dark blue sky greeted him, and he cursed. Checking the time on the dashboard, Damon cursed again. “That didn’t feel like four hours,” he muttered, moving a hand from the steering to grab his phone and dial Taeja.

“Hello?” Taeja answered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I got so caught up with work and—”

Taeja laughed. “You’re talking to my voicemail. I’m busy, so leave a message or, better yet, text me. Or don’t.”

A small smirk came on his face. He didn’t know that people still left those silly voicemails. “I’m thinking about how I’m going to make you beg for it, baby. Then, I’m going to make you come as many times as you can before you pass out. The first time will be my apology for standing you up. Second time will be for tricking me with your voicemail. The third and fourth—” he chuckled. “I’ve never given you five orgasms, have I?”

The dial tone interrupted him from saying anything more, but he got his message across. Damon couldn’t wait to get home.

He was going to fuck her until she begged him to stop. He’d worship every inch of her pretty little body as if she were his religion. Damon wanted his kisses etched into her skin and his name laced on her tongue. When she woke up tomorrow — with her pussy aching, thoroughly licked, and fucked — she’d be drained yet desperate for more.

“Damn,” he cursed, tossing his phone onto the passenger seat to adjust himself in his pants.

His dick was hard to the touch. He needed to be inside her now — to let off some steam and deliver on his promise. But when he got home, Taeja was fast asleep on the sofa. Standing above her, he watched like a creep as she slept, debating if he should wake her up for sex.

Taeja stirred a little, clutching the cushion more tightly to her chest. Her lips were slightly parted as soft breaths escaped her pouty lips. She looked so peaceful when she slept, and it brought a smile to Damon’s face.

“I should let her sleep,” he told himself before scooping her up bridal style in his arms.

Taeja leaned into his warmth, and it made him lightly chuckle. Damon carried her upstairs, then gently laid her on his bed. He lowered himself onto the bed and admired her with a smile on his face.

Taeja was drop-dead gorgeous. It amazed him that out of all the men that pined for her, she chose them.

Smiling, Damon stood, then went to the bathroom. He had a long, cold shower that did nothing to help his erection. Sliding the shower door aside, he walked toward the cabinets. Seeing a bottle of lube, he reached for it. “I guess it’s that kind of night again.”

The following day, Damon was on his lunch break. He always spent his break with his friends who were working on the video game with him. They’d take a meeting room for themselves, then use most of their time to speak about their upcoming project.

Cavaughn, the illustrator, pointed at the screen. “Damon, you’re gonna sit right there and tell me this assault rifle doesn’t look hyper-realistic?”

Gavin, the sound designer, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He is standing.”

Cavaughn shot Gavin a glare, silencing him and making the rest of the team laugh. Crossing her arms, Cavaughn shifted her focus to the image on the screen. She’d spent the past week adding intricate details to the design, and now the team was telling her it wasn’t good enough.

Damon scratched at his nape. “I’m saying it doesn’t look hyper-realistic enough .”

“How do you know what a hyper-realistic gun is supposed to look like? You don’t play video games as much as I do," Cavaughn said.

“True, but my brother knows about this stuff.”

“Tell Zain to get over here and look at it.”

“Zain’s busy,” Damon lied .

“What about your girlfriend?”

Damon raised a brow. “My girlfriend?”

Gavin’s mouth dropped. “Boss has a girlfriend?”

Cav nodded. “She helped him fix the graphics, then choose a better shade of green. She has better taste than him.”

“Actually, she would have better sight—” Gavin stopped talking when Cav glared.

“I will, Cav,” Damon promised before going to his office, which was a short walk away. Closing the door behind him, he dropped himself onto the office chair and pulled his phone out. He read the new notifications. One was from Taeja, asking if he was still on his lunch break. He called her. “Babe.”

“Think yu dash mi weh.”

“Why would I throw away one of the persons who mean the most to me?”

“Who else is as important as me?” Taeja teased.

“Zain,” he replied without thinking. Hearing Taeja’s heavy sigh, Damon knew what was coming next, and he didn’t want to hear it. “Are you still at Liyah?” he asked before she could phrase her question.

“No, mi come home an hour ago. Neva see me a text yu?”

“Sorry about that. My phone’s always silent at work. Do you need something?”

“I miss you and your dick.”

He sat upright, vivid flashbacks from this morning flooding his mind. “Taeja.”

“ Baby . My name’s baby.”

He chuckled. “I’m at work.”

“I know, but my pussy’s so wet. Can you hear how wet I am for you, Damon?”

Damon’s breathing quickened as he listened to the wetness of her pussy. He imagined how wide her legs were spread. Her hardened pink clit peeking from between her fat folds and beckoning him to bury his head or dick between them.

Whichever came first.

His dick jerked in his pants, and he groaned. “You know I can’t resist you.”

“I don’t want you to,” Taeja drawled seductively. “Come fuck me, Damon. I want you over the sink, in the bed, and on the floor like you did this morning.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was thirty past noon, but as the head of the department, he was his own boss. He stood and grabbed his briefcase. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. And, baby?”

“Yes, daddy?”

“I want you on your knees by the door when I get there.”

Damon’s fingers fumbled with the key as it slipped into the lock. He was so horny and eager to see Taeja waiting for him, he couldn’t wait a moment longer. When the lock clicked open, he almost leaped for joy.

But the sight before him was not what he expected to see.

Taeja was sucking Zain’s dick.

Irked, Damon closed the door behind him.

Taeja’s eyes flickered at him.

Damon almost groaned. How was it possible for her to still look this gorgeous? With her watery eyes. Spit gathered beneath her chin. Hardened nipples standing erect on her round breasts. Sputters stemming from her throat as she choked on Zain’s dick.

“You like sucking my dick while Damon watches?” Zain asked, tightening his grip on the ponytail his hands kept in place. “Look at me, Taeja.”

She met Zain’s eyes, a mix of a moan and mumble of agreement ripping from the back of her throat. Damon couldn’t look away from the scene before him. Taeja’s head bobbed up and down Zain’s length. She couldn’t take all of Zain, but she swallowed as much as possible. Her hands gripped her thighs — no doubt Zain told her to put them there and let them stay there.

Damon smirked. He liked how obedient their girl was… whenever she was ready.

Zain’s thrusts slowed, and he pulled out of her mouth. Gripping as much hair as he could in one hand while the rest fell over her shoulders, he turned her head more upward while stroking his dick with his free hand. With fast pumps, Zain emptied his load on her face, some getting in her hair and on her chest. He directed his dick to her mouth and squeezed out the last drop of cum in her mouth and Taeja swallowed it all.

Wow.

Damon had never been much of a watcher, but damn. That was a sight.

When Zain released her hair, Taeja looked at Damon. “I didn’t know you’d get here that quickly.”

“There wasn’t any traffic,” Damon replied, glaring at Zain, who was putting away himself. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited him,” Taeja said as she stood. “Please play nice until I’m back. I’m gonna get this cum off me.”

“Your face looks prettier with cum on it,” Zain said.

Taeja blushed and turned to walk away, her ass and hips swaying suggestively. “Please nuh kill each other!”

Damon walked to the living room. He sat on a sofa, resting his briefcase beside him. Zain sat on the sofa furthest from him, but Damon wasn’t satisfied. He wanted Zain out of his house, but he didn’t want to upset Taeja.

Especially not when he still needed her help with the growing pain in his pants.

Trying not to think too much about how horny he was, Damon glared at Zain. His anger surged by the second. “I told you not to come back here.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Zain retorted. He kicked his feet up on the table, locked his hands behind his head, and released a long, dramatic sigh.

Damon’s mouth slackened. He wanted to march over and rip Zain’s foot from his body, but he remained fuming quietly. Zain wouldn’t be easy to fight like Jerry. Zain was a trained killer; them being on bad terms meant Zain wouldn’t go easy on him.

Finally, Taeja entered the living room — dressed in a robe and her hair in a messy high bun. Innocence shrouded her. Damon couldn’t believe this was the same woman who had a dick down her throat only five minutes ago.

“Tell him to take his big feet off my table," Damon complained.

Zain wiggled his sock-covered toes. “She can’t tell me what to do.”

“Zain, tek dung yu foot cause me nuh know wa kinda dutty style dat,” Taeja hissed, and Zain closed his eyes, smiling as he shuffled about to make himself more comfortable. “Oh? Okay. Don’t move them. Let me see who you’re gonna fuck for the next two months.”

Zain’s eyes snapped open as he yanked his feet off the table. Seeing Damon’s smug smirk, Zain glared at Taeja. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m not. The two of you are,” Taeja said while crossing her arms and standing. She moved to the center of the room while glancing between them. Her disappointment filled the room, reminding Damon of when Kacian found out he and Zain were sharing their neighbor.

“I didn’t do anything,” Damon said, and Zain scoffed.

“See? This is what I’m talking about.” Taeja waved a hand between them. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I won’t force either of you to tell me. But this isn’t like you guys. You’re miserable, and it’s making me miserable.”

“We’re not trying to make you miserable,” Damon said.

“But this doesn’t concern you,” Zain added.

Taeja scoffed. “How it nuh concern me when the two of you being in the same room feels like waiting for a bomb to go off?! I don’t like it, and if you guys can’t find a way to resolve your issues, I’m going to stay with Liyah. I don’t want to live in a house anymore where it’s just arguing and tension.” Huffing by the end, tears formed in her eyes.

Damon and Zain glanced at each other, unsaid words being exchanged, but their expressions said it all. Neither of them was ready to give up on their point, but they didn’t like making their girl feel torn.

Sighing, Damon stood, straightening his jacket, before walking toward her. He stopped before her and placed a hand on her waist, using the other to wipe the tears from her eyes. “We don’t want to make you uncomfortable after all you’ve been through, so I apologize. But it’s not as simple as you’re making it seem.”

“Make me understand.”

Hearing movement, Damon looked over his shoulder at Zain, who was walking toward them.

Zain stopped beside Damon and stared into Taeja’s teary eyes. “Don’t waste your tears.”

“Mi naa waste dem,” she countered. “I’m sad because you’re angry at each other. ”

Damon snickered. “For a person who always seems sure of yourself, you get into your feelings easily.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes,” Zain answered.

Taeja glared at Zain before her gaze softened at Damon. “Can you guys hug and make up now?”

“I’m not hugging him,” Damon stated.

Zain scoffed. “No one wants to hug you.”

“I want to hug him.” Taeja hugged Damon tightly.

A sigh escaped his lips as she laid her head on his chest while he returned the hug. He always loved the feeling of her smaller body against his, molding against him so perfectly, like she wanted to remain in his hold forever.

Taeja reached an arm out for Zain. “Come hug us.”

“No,” Zain stated.

Wanting to ease some of the tension so Taeja could hop off their case, Damon said, “Look at him, pretending he doesn’t love my hugs.”

Zain’s eyes widened.

Taeja giggled at Zain’s expression before resting her chin on Damon’s chest. Her eyes shone at him. “What are you talking about?”

Damon smirked. “When we were kids, Zain used to—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Zain snarled before standing behind Taeja and hugging her. “There. You happy now?”

Taeja nodded against Damon’s chest. “Yes!”

Zain waited two more seconds before pulling away, taking a few steps away from them. Zain glared at Damon, who chuckled as he held Taeja tighter. He scoffed and looked away, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

“See? Unu cya stay vex with each other!” Taeja chirped while breaking the hug to beam at them.

“We can try,” Damon said and kissed her temple. “I have to get back to work.”

“I brushed my teeth and used mouthwash so you can kiss me.”

Amused, he placed his lips on hers, giving her a peck before pulling away.

“I’m sleeping with Zain tonight, but please don’t stay out late again. ”

Damon looked at Zain, who nodded. Looking at Taeja, Damon said, “Okay. And me and that idiot—”

“Says the person who always needed extra tutoring,” Zain interrupted.

Damon almost whipped his neck out of place to glare at Zain. “We agreed never to speak about that again!”

Zain smirked. “You shouldn’t have brought up why you used to hug me.”

“Get out of my house, Zain,” Damon hissed, and Taeja sighed.

“You guys were doing so great. See how I’m not forcing you to work through your issues? Please don’t argue around me,” she said.

The brothers huffed, not bothering to answer her.

Taeja glared at Damon. “Promise me, Damon.”

This woman knew it was hard to deny her. He was putty in her hands, a slave to her doe eyes and sweet voice. “I promise.”

She smiled, wrapping her arms around him and taking him by surprise. When she pulled away, Damon was tempted to tug her back to him. Something about Taeja’s hugs always made him yearn for more.

But as she made her way toward Zain, he remembered she was not only his. He needed to share her.

Taeja held out a pinky to Zain.

Zain glanced at it with an unreadable expression. “Seriously?” he asked, and Taeja’s face blanked. “You’re a headache,” Zain mumbled before looping his pinky with Taeja’s.

They stared each other in the eyes. Seconds felt like an eternity before they broke apart. Damon turned away, grabbing his briefcase off the sofa.

“Damon, wait,” Taeja said, hurrying toward him. He looked at her with his brows furrowed as she knelt before him and started undoing his belt. “I want to suck your dick while Zain watches, but I don’t want to breathe. I want you to fuck my mouth like it’s my pussy.”

After Taeja gave him what was no doubt the best blowjob of his life, Damon left his house. He didn’t return to work. He went to a graveyard.

It’d been so long since he visited her .

Seeing Taeja with Zain made him miss her a bit more than he usually did.

A bone-chilling aura greeted him as he parked at the cemetery’s gated entrance. After years of showing up here, things weren’t much easier than the first time he set foot on the beaten-down stone path.

That was the funny thing with grief. There was no shortcut to getting over it. He could only allow himself to feel. Go through the motions. No matter how much he loathed this sharp pain in his chest.

Putting on his armor of bravery, Damon exited the car, then locked it behind him. He’d made this walk many times before, and each time, it ended the same.

With him. Here. Trailing a finger over the engraving on her grave.

“I miss you,” Damon whispered, his voice sailing in the wind, joining the mix of people who were visiting their loved ones.

Some of them had companions by their sides. Someone to talk to. Someone with a shoulder to cry on.

For Damon? There was no easy way to say he had no one.

It was only him and her .

Eloise Washington-Stark.