Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Bright
September
It was the second week of September which meant that it was the week of Manor Days.
Manor Days was a week-long event hosted by my parents’ lodge, Manor at Sierra Sunset Resort, on the property’s grounds.
It was a display of all the best that both the Manor and the Strong family had to offer.
There were nightly cookouts for the lodge guests, guided tours of the property, a rodeo, a parade, a chili cook-off, and all manner of festivity.
I stood in a circle with my brothers as Manor guests and our women participated in a flower bouquet arranging demonstration. Blossom was strapped to Beck’s chest, so I made silly faces at her just to get her to giggle in between keeping an eye on Bailey.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Brewer quipped while motioning for Beckham to take Blossom out of the carrier.
“Yeah, the little dude’s in love for real.” Bayliss gave me a cocky grin.
“Happens to the best of us.” Beck handed his daughter to her uncle and Brewer cradled her in his arms.
I didn’t respond, so they kept going.
“When are you poppin’ the question?” Bayliss probed.
I shook my head. “Nah. Bailey and me . . . we’re not on it like that. She just got out of a marriage—”
“Like three months ago, though,” Beck reminded me.
I eyed him, my eyebrows furrowed in a frown. “Right. That was barely ninety days ago. She’s not looking to get re-hemmed up. She needs a minute to be free.”
“Like she’s had a minute to be free.” Brewer scoffed before taking an inhale of Blossom. “Since the minute y’all got back from her divorce trip, your ass has been tryin’ to live in her skin.”
I smirked because he wasn’t lying. I’d barely let the girl outta my sight. Truth be told, I loved her. “She has me on my ass,” I admitted.
They all chuckled.
“Tell us something we don’t know,” Bayliss told me.
I watched as a male figure with his back to us stood between Bailey and Collins. “Who the fuck is that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”
“Calm down,” Brewer advised as the guy moved along. “They out here ready to murder a brother just for standing too close to their women.” He pretended to be talking to Blossom, who babbled back at him like she understood.
“How’s the bed and breakfast coming along? Bailey still on schedule?”
My eyes met Bayliss’s. “Yeah. I dispatched a crew over there. I felt like she was getting overwhelmed, but she wouldn’t say it. Once they took over, I noticed an immediate change in her demeanor.”
Bayliss nodded. “Alisha did too. Good looking out. I’ve noticed that those Kingsley women don’t like to ask for help.”
“You basically gotta strong arm ’em into accepting it,” Beckham added.
“You hear that, little mama?” Brewer gave Blossom a noisy kiss on the cheek. “You’re half Kingsley. Some nigga ever try to strong arm you into anything, he’s gon have to see me.”
“And me,” I seconded.
“And me,” Bayliss added.
“That’s if there’s anything left of him after he sees me,” Beckham said.
“Anyway,” I said, “Bailey planned the soft opening for the last Saturday of the month. She wants to have it before the Fall Festival preparation starts. No overnight guests. Just the opportunity for people to tour the space and taste food from the chefs she hired. She got this husband and wife team outta Chicago. They make upscale twists on classic soul food dishes.” I shook my head.
“People are gonna come for the food alone.”
Brewer lifted one eyebrow independently of the other.
I laughed. “Come on, man. I ain’t saying they can outcook you. It’s apples and oranges. You’re still that dude when it comes to cheffing.”
“You better know that shit.”
“Clowns.” Bayliss shook his head at Brewer and me. “Looks like the flower class is wrapping up. I’m about to grab my wife. Dad’s expecting us over at the food area. Says we’re his sous chefs while he’s on the grill.”
“Yeah, I need to start heading over that way.” Brewer attempted to hand Blossom back to her dad, but I intercepted my niece and pulled her into my arms.
“Let’s go see your auntie Bae-Bae,” I cooed.
Beckham handed me the backpack that was his version of a baby bag. “Give that to Coll. Tell her that I’m helping Dad with the barbecue for tonight’s cookout.”
I nodded. “Tell Dad that I’m on the way.”
The four of us split up with me heading toward where Collins and Bailey were taking off the gloves and smocks they’d worn for the flower arranging class. When I reached them, Bailey threw her arms around both me and Blossom.
Since the night we first had sex in Chicago, she had leaned into the idea of us.
I wasn’t sure she would, because her life was so heavy before that.
She surprised me, though. She said that she’d spent enough time living and loving scared.
She was ready to just live and love. She would deal with the consequences.
Shit, I wasn’t complaining one bit, because I was the direct benefactor of her decision. And I enjoyed it to the fullest. Once she let herself be free, she became the epitome of homie, lover, friend. There wasn’t a person on Earth that I wanted to be around more than I wanted to be around Bailey.
“Hey, love,” she said to me before turning her attention to our niece. “Hey, pretty mama,” she crooned to Blossom before taking her from me.
“Hey.” I held out the backpack to Collins. “Your man wants me to tell you that he’s with Dad over by the grills.”
Collins smiled happily. “I guess that’s my cue to head over there.”
I shook my head playfully. “Lovestruck ass.”
She giggled. “Right? I am so in love with your brother. My man. My man. My man.”
“He’s a lucky dude, sis,” Bailey insisted. “Only dude luckier is Bayliss.”
“I know that’s right,” Collins co-signed while wrapping Blossom up in what to me looked like hospital gauze but somehow turned into a baby carrier when it was tied properly. “Because my mama is the best. See you guys later.” She gave us a wave as she walked away.
I watched her go, then turned to Bailey. “Say, I know it’s probably the furthest thing from your mind at this specific moment, but would you ever consider getting married again?” I had wanted to ask her that question for the longest but never felt that the time was right.
She seemed to ponder the question for a little while before responding.
“I’m not anti-marriage. I’m just hyper aware that my marriage to Xander should’ve never taken place.
When I look at your mom and dad or my mom and your brother or my sister and .
. . your brother”—we both chuckled—“I don’t know.
I see the possibilities of what it could be.
I see the beauty, the camaraderie, the peace, and the rest that comes with a healthy marriage.
I would like to have that. I know not everybody gets that, but I would definitely like it. ”
“Felt,” I assured her with a nod of my head.
Later at my house, as soon as Bailey’s back hit the mattress, I spread her legs and licked the center of her pussy like I’d been waiting all day to do.
Before I could even process the delicious taste of her, the sound of her small, contented sigh or the smell of her womanly essence, I licked her again.
I was addicted to Bailey. Since the day she gave herself to me in Chicago all I wanted was to be up under her.
And when she gave me the pussy? When I had her underneath me?
My body went on autopilot, because there was too much I wanted to do to her.
Too many emotions running through my body. Too many sensations. Too much need.
I reminded myself to stay in the moment as I slowed my licks down, invading every crevice and nook, searching for her unique sweetness.
Lately, the amount of cream I could pull from her and into my mouth had increased which had me even more gone off her than usual.
She was killing my entire fly. I used to be out here on my, “These hos ain’t loyal,” but everything was different with Bailey.
Even considering the idea of her being disloyal had me ready to crash the hell out.
My hands wrapped around the circumference of her thighs to hold her in place.
She let her hands find their way to my head.
She pushed her pelvis forward, grinding against my face and moaning hoarsely.
With a stiff tongue, I alternated between moving in and out of her opening and teasing her clit until her moans increased in volume and her hands left my head.
Bailey liked her nipples stimulated during sex and if I was otherwise occupied she would do it herself.
So, I knew she was holding her own breasts, massaging her own nipples and the thought had my dick getting harder than it already was.
Her thighs quivered and she gyrated on my face.
I caught her clit between my lips and sucked.
And sucked. And sucked. I pushed her legs open even wider, released her clit, and put my entire mouth up against her.
I sucked and slurped, feasting on the nectar that she dropped into my throat.
Her body was practically vibrating, so I knew she was on the edge. I caught her clit once more, nibbling lightly on it until she went over the edge. She thrashed around beneath me, letting out almost more cream than I could swallow.
I moved up her body and easily slid inside.
“Aaaaahhhhh,” she moaned.
Being inside Bailey was like being in the coziest, comfiest home I’d ever known.
Her pussy was the trifecta—hot, wet, and tight—but on steroids.
It was hotter, wetter, and tighter than any pussy had a right to be, and it drove me crazy every time she allowed me the privilege of sliding inside of her.
Her nails dug into my shoulders and raked down my back. I wasn’t sure if she drew blood or not. I really didn’t give a damn. If that was the price I had to pay to be balls deep in Bailey Kingsley, I was with it.
I pounded into her relentlessly, relishing in the feeling the grip of her pussy created.
Sweat coated our bodies as we took and gave in equal measure.
My heart pounded in my chest as I filled her, stretching her in ways that made me want to crash out and lean in at the same time.
The feeling of claiming her, of making her mine, was heady as hell every single time.
Her body shuddered underneath mine and even I trembled from the pleasure.
She was so wet that it took almost every ounce of my concentration to stay inside. “You’re so wet,” I said from behind clenched teeth.
She arched up at me, contracting her vagina, pulling me in deeper and tightening her grip around me all at once.
My dick started to throb. That shit felt too good.
I drove into her harder and faster. She started coming undone, moaning and whimpering while her tight pussy held me hostage as she ascended.
I bit down on her shoulder as my own climax overtook me—a bright white light exploding behind my eyelids and my toes curling.
I pushed into her as deeply as I could while my balls drained themselves.