Chapter 16
Three and a half years ago
“Sam, are you there?” Zilphia’s hushed voice drifts in through the open window.
I shoot up from the futon and sprint across the wooden floor. She sits curled in the window seat, her legs tucked at her side—barefoot, her hair cascading in loose curls around her shoulders, bathed in silver moonlight.
“They’re gone,” she squeals excitedly. “Meet me at the patio.”
Her parents went to some fundraiser thing, and Nolan’s staying with friends for the weekend, so we’re having a movie night.
“Okay,” I respond, my heart thrashing in my chest. “See you in a sec.”
I swallow hard and count to ten before leaving the tree house. The balmy summer night instantly envelops me. Down the stairs, past the swimming pool, and across the deck. I’ve never been inside her house. That thought alone makes my pulse race.
My breath swooshes from my lungs the second she comes into view. She’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her. The door flings open, and she launches herself into my arms, molding her softness to my lanky body. I encircle her petite waist, aching to bury my face in her neck.
“Ew, Sam, you’re so sweaty.” She pulls back, wrinkling her nose at me.
“S-sorry,” I stammer, my gaze fixed on the shiny floor behind her. “It’s warm out tonight.”
“Oh,” she mumbles, then runs her fingers through my hair. “You’re due for a cut.”
I inwardly groan, fighting not to react.
“Thinking about letting it grow out,” I rasp.
“I can see it.” A chaste smile spreads across her lips. “The surfer-stoner look would definitely suit you.”
We stare into each other’s eyes and something passes between us. Foreign and forbidden.
Zilphia clears her throat and sweeps her arm in a wide arc. “Welcome to my humble abode. What do you think?”
I walk inside and glance around. Exactly how I envisioned. Pristine, sparkling everything. No doubt the entire house matches the opulence of the kitchen.
“Very nice,” I mutter.
The doorbell chimes and my entire body tenses—my fight-or-flight response triggered.
“Relax,” she says, laughing. “It’s just the pizza. I ordered your favorite.”
“Supreme?”
“With extra everything, baby.” She does a little shimmy dance.
“Large?” I ask, my mouth already watering.
“A super, enormous extra-large.” She waggles her eyebrows and skips out of the kitchen. “Can you grab a couple of canned sodas from the fridge? Oh, and the bag on the counter. I got us some snacks.”
“Sure.” I amble over to the shiny silver appliance and pull it open. “There’s enough food in here to feed an army.” I’m lucky if we have bread and mayo at home.
I snag four carbonated drinks and toss them into the bag before heading into the living room. Zilphia hovers by the front door, clutching the pizza box between her small hands. The savory smells of pepperoni and sausage invade my nostrils.
“Come on,” she chirps, starting up the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To my bedroom, duh,” she teases, throwing me a playful look over her slim shoulder. “Where’d you think we were going? Mars?”
Apprehension clenches my stomach, rooting me to the spot.
I thought we were going to stay in the living room.
My hormones go haywire, a hundred different scenarios swirling through my mind.
Things a friend shouldn’t think. Are we going to watch movies on her bed?
We’ve snuggled on the futon in the tree house plenty of times, but this is different.
It’s her bed. Her private domain. This is a really bad idea.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask her.
Her eyebrows furrow. “Yes. Why?”
I shrug. “You’re always so intense about us never going inside, even when your parents and brother aren’t home.”
“Guess I’m a little more comfortable. As long as we’re careful, there’s nothing to worry about.” She smiles, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Anyway, you can always jump out the window if they come home early. Now move it. I’m hungry.”
I follow her lead, admiring her pink flannel shorts.
The soft material clings to her bottom. I reach out, lightly skimming a finger along the hem, careful not to brush her thigh.
It’s risky, but touching her is an addiction.
She’s simply perfection in every way possible, and I’m a filthy black spot in her otherwise unblemished world.
Be that as it may, I’m not going anywhere.
We get to her bedroom, and my probing gaze scans the silver and purple color scheme.
No posters on the walls. Just one canvas of a woman with an afro, painted in graffiti-style brushstrokes, hanging over her queen-sized bed.
Trophies and framed photographs are displayed on shelves mounted to the wall.
More pictures are taped to the intricate oval mirror above her dresser.
She happily poses for the camera, sometimes alone, sometimes surrounded by friends who aren’t me. The sight stings more than it should.
“Sit,” Zilphia says, patting the spot next to her on the bed.
I place the snack bag on the nightstand, slip out of my sneakers, then climb beside her—more nervous than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
“What do you want to watch?” she asks, pressing the power button on the remote.
“Doesn’t matter.” I open the pizza box and help myself to a cheesy slice.
“Romantic comedy it is,” she singsongs, browsing through Netflix.
“Have some mercy on me, Zilphia,” I plead around a mouthful of pizza.
“Hey, you’re the one who said it didn’t matter,” she reminds me.
“Well, I lied,” I reply, reaching for a second slice. “Find an action movie.”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “Fine.”
“Wait, scroll back up,” I instruct her. “Right there, three spaces to the left.”
“What? Aliens?”
“Yeah, oldie but goodie.”
“Okay,” Zilphia agrees. “I haven’t seen my acid for blood friends in a while.”
We eat, joke, and talk about how badass Ripley, aka Sigourney Weaver, is.
A short time later, Zilphia’s body is pressed against my side with her head nestled on my chest. I cradle her to me, resting my hand on the warm skin exposed at her hip.
The feel of her breast on my rib cage taunts me, bringing unplatonic thoughts from earlier to the forefront of my brain.
Her flowery scent wafts into my nose, tormenting me further.
I nuzzle my face into her hair while tracing circles on to her velvet-smooth flesh. My cock grows hard between my legs.
“Sam, are you sniffing my hair?”
“Um… yeah. I’m sorry,” I utter hoarsely, pulling the cover over us to hide my erection. “It smells good. What shampoo do you use?” I always wanted to ask, but didn’t want to seem like a creep.
“Honeysuckle Dreams,” she replies sleepily. “It’s my favorite fragrance. I have the whole collection.”
“It suits you,” I mumble.
Zilphia tilts her head back, peering at me with those exquisite chocolate eyes. “Are you okay? Your heart is beating really fast.”
“Yes,” I grit out. “Just watch the movie.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip, wanting to say more, but refocuses her attention on the television. After a while her breathing becomes slow and even.
“Zilphia, are you awake?”
No response.
“Zilphia?”
Still no response.
A perverse voice whispers in my ear, telling me to touch her… to taste her. She won’t know.
I know it’s wrong—every part of me knows it. But fuck… I can’t help it.
Once… I’ll give in to my primal urge just once.
I place a kiss on the side of her neck, my lips lingering. Then I taste her skin. One long, deliberate sweep of my tongue across her shoulder.
How far do I take this? Fuck it. I already crossed the invisible line into immoral damnation; might as well stay the course.
My hand slips beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms and into her panties. She moans and snuggles deeper into my side, but doesn’t wake. I resume my exploration, delving into her warm, wet slit.
My dick throbs painfully beneath my zipper, needing to feel the slick suction of her body.
I pull my hand free and bring my glistening fingers to my nose, inhaling her unique aroma into my body.
My head spins. Time seems to move in slow motion.
It would be so easy to slip inside her. Fuck, what am I saying?
I carefully extricate myself from her soft curves and stagger into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
Against my better judgment, I lap her sweet juices from my fingertips.
I grip the edge of the sink, my legs going weak as her taste floods my senses, shaking the foundation of my control.
My mind screams at me to go back into the bedroom and gorge myself on her pussy.
I need to leave. It’s too dangerous to stay here.
I freeze. There it is. Tucked in the shower caddy.
I pick up the bottle with a trembling hand and flip the cap open, breathing the golden liquid deep into my lungs.
The tantalizing honeysuckle fragrance burns a hole through my mind, fueling the darkness trying to swallow me whole.
I shove my pants down and jerk off to thoughts of her wet pussy wrapped around my cock. My orgasm hits me with an intensity that buckles my knees and leaves me gasping for air.