Chapter 11 Jamaica
Dynamic. Sensational. Talented. Soul-stirring voice. Swag on ten. Alluring performer.
And that was just the moment he’d walked on stage, as I was being escorted to the private area that was supposed to be just me.
When the door opened to the comfy suite with several screens on one wall, a handsome black man who seemed familiar stood up in surprise.
I debated whether to run the other way. I thought no one would know I was here.
Then he smiled.
I squinted. “Peace?”
He moved the few steps to hug me tightly, lifting me off my feet. “OMG. It’s been so long.”
“It has.” I laughed, glad to see the morose boy I’d known him to be seem so joyful and full of life. And suddenly sharing a space with a person who loved Freedom unconditionally seemed the best decision. “He didn’t tell me you would be here.”
He placed me back on his feet and quirked his arched brows. “My brother didn’t tell me about you either.” Peace looked me up and down appreciatively. “I definitely understand why he tried to keep you a secret. Knowing him, he forgot he invited both of us.”
“Well, I’m glad he did.” I tapped my heel to his expensive boots. “You look happy. How has life been treating you?”
“It’s been well for a while now. Haven’t been in contact with our dad in years, which is for the best. I’m a social worker, and I work with the youth.” He paused and studied my face a second longer. “Surprised we haven’t seen each other sooner. I do contract work at Oak Valley.”
“I guess you heard I planned the reunion. I’m hardly there except to pick up and drop off my son.” Realization dawned as I rolled the last words from my tongue. “You told Freedom about Kody and Jamie.”
He sat back down and patted the cushion next to him. “We came here to watch the show. You and I can talk next week once you speak with Freedom. He’ll tell you what he knows, and I’ll fill in the rest. Maybe over coffee or brunch. We’re fam now. Can’t wait to be an uncle.”
Questions swirled as I joined him on the sofa. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and playfully used his finger to erase my frown.
“Enjoy the show. There are sodas, alcohol, and some pretty damn good food over there.” He pointed to the bar area against the wall with an array before refocusing on the screen and whooping, “He’s already tempting people with his shirt.
You better have those women throwing their panties and wanting to leave their men. ”
I stiffened, and Peace rubbed my arm. “My bad. Just getting into his show. Trust me, you’re the only one who matters to him.”
Though pleased by his statement, I was still a married woman. “Thanks…I guess.”
“Look, you already know I don’t give a fuck about Kody. My brother couldn’t see him for who he was back then, and he finally woke up back in high school. Hate me, don’t hate me. I’m Team Freedom when it comes to you.”
“Again…thanks…I guess.” I chuckled, remembering that he didn’t care for Kody, who seemed uncomfortable with Peace’s feminine mannerisms back in high school.
Like Freedom, I was protective of Peace when we were young.
A reminder of why Kody didn’t initially appeal to me in high school, and somehow, a couple of years later, he became my boyfriend and eventually my husband.
“Think I need a drink. You want something?”
Peace held up a glass of amber liquid. “Good for now.”
Tugging my dress down, I headed to the full bar and mixed Bourbon and Coke while I watched Freedom command the stage effortlessly.
Even more so, I understood why I’d avoided listening to his music or watching him perform.
I understood more of why, despite the insane love I felt for him, I didn’t seek him out.
Tell him about his baby from my own mouth.
Married a man whom I loved enough to bury the pain of losing Freedom because I knew that I would never love another like I loved Freedom.
I understood the excuses I made for not chasing him down and demanding that he do right by me because he was that sort of man who would’ve given up his dreams for me and his child.
He loved me that much. Maybe I was the catalyst for his music career.
I just wasn’t the reason he became a superstar, a legend in the making.
That honor belonged to God.
Like Beyonce, Prince, Michael, and any other of the greats, were not meant to lead ordinary lives.
Their path was destined to be extraordinary.
A purposeful life of sharing their gifts with the world.
Tasked with the audaciousness of bringing truth through the joy, happiness, and love of their music, even when those same emotions evaded them.
Freedom belonged on that stage, and had he chosen me, he would’ve forsaken his purpose and his reason for existing.
Tears of acceptance flowed while I watched Freedom entertain the adoring crowd.
Intuitively, Peace became my comfort, and he entwined his hand with mine, and we enjoyed the rest of the show together like the family we were about to be.
I’d resolved that Freedom and I would have this time together, and I would return to my life, and he would return to his.
Whether he decided to be a father to Jamie, our son would know the truth.
He needed to grasp the greatness that flowed through his blood, and I would do my best to reassure him that Freedom didn’t just belong to us.
True to his word, five minutes after I hung up the cell, Freedom entered his penthouse.
His dreamy eyes softened as he strode toward me and grabbed my face in his hands.
I looked up at him, wishing that our circumstances were different.
His thumbs wiped the tears that started falling again when I heard him at the door.
“Hey, don’t end us before we ever get started. ”
Fresh tears erupted. Why did this man get me so when I’d spent years of togetherness with another man who didn’t? “I don’t want to think about anything except you tonight.”
He studied my face. “And what happens tomorrow? We have a family.”
I shook my head. “You have a son. I have a family.”
Freedom’s nostrils flared. “Naw…you are my family. You wouldn’t be here with me if you cared about your marriage.”
“I do care about my marriage. I’m here tonight because I wanted to be Jamaica again. I wanted to feel sexy and loved again. I wanted to matter again.”
His grip tightened on my face. “That muthafucka makes you feel like you don’t matter, and you’re trying to hold on to that, for what? Be with me.” He lowered his head to gently kiss me. “Be with me. Divorce him. Marry me.”
Freedom pleaded with me with his mouth as his kiss deepened and his hand swept under my hair to caress my nape, and I allowed my emotions to overrule any further thought.
My tongue tangled with his as my hands found the bottom of his t-shirt and I started lifting it, breaking the kiss long enough for the material to go over his head.
We reached for each other’s lips, desperate to remain connected.
His tongue, damn his glorious tongue, rolled and toyed with my mouth while his right hand expertly unzipped the back of my dress.
The material fell around my feet as I proudly stood there in my black push-up bra and matching thong, inviting the heat and hunger of his gaze that left a burning trail from my face to my feet.
Freedom walked around me slowly, unbuckling his belt and completely disrobing.
He stopped behind me and clutched my waist, dragging me to him.
My ass pressed against his throbbing erection.
One hand unclipped my bra while the other cupped my mound, and his finger played with my button.
He tugged on my stiff nipple and quietly demanded, “Wrap your arms around my neck and keep them there.”
Gladly, I did his bidding, and he slipped a condom into my hand. My legs were starting to quiver from the unrelenting pressure of my swollen clit that his finger languidly explored.
My moans became louder and louder as he dipped and probed, rained kisses with his lips and tongue down my neck and my shoulders, all while tweaking my nipple and massaging my breast. His soft urging to come for him became my undoing.
I clasped my wrists together as the sexual tension that’d been building since our eyes collided from across the crowded room at our reunion, unleashed.
He added a finger as he thrust and thrust, grazing my clit every fucking time until I lost control and he held me up by the waist, slowing his fingers until my yells became whimpers.
My head flopped on his strong shoulder, my arms dropped to my sides, and I kissed the side of his neck, totally satiated.
Or so I thought.
Freedom hugged me from the back, while kissing my neck, and slowly walked us to the bedroom, where he lay me down on his king bed.
His tongue briefly tasted my clit on its way to the space between my breasts, and my sex clenched with desire and need.
The heaviness of his body on top of mine comforted me.
He took his time with each breast, kneading, caressing, tasting, and loving them.
I squeezed my thighs together to prevent my second orgasm when he had yet to penetrate me.
I closed my eyes and rubbed the soft hair on his head as he worshipped my body, appreciating every nook, scar, and fullness.
His touch had always pleased me, and years later, it ignited unquenchable fires through my body, desperate for his fervor and attention.
I needed this man like I needed the air to breathe.
“Please…I want you so bad. I want to feel you inside of me again.” I tugged on the curls at the top of his head, and he gazed up at me. “I’ve missed you for too damn long.”
“I’ve missed you more.” He moved higher on my body and reached for the condom I still held. “I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Tears sprang from my eyes and trickled down my face. “And I never stopped loving you, too.”