Breaking Mr. Black

12| Voodoo Juju

ROSE

I sat outside on the swing overlooking the backyard. A warm yellow hue lit up the porch just enough for me to see the thriving green grass. The sounds of the night creatures were almost therapeutic - it definitely deferred from hearing the sounds of the nightlife in New York. I'd come back here. Once Dean was done, we would come back home. Because, although there were so many reasons for me to hate this place, there were just as many for me to love it.

The thought of Dean and I starting a life here sent a warm fuzzy feeling through me. It would have been exactly like New York. Maybe we could get an apartment and live together. We would be happy. I mean, why wouldn't we be when we had been happy all this time before. Just because I felt some strange compulsion to always be near Sean, or hold him so I could feel those weird yet delicious sparks lick my skin, or speak to him no matter the outcome. Just because I was going against what I told myself a week ago when I arrived. All of that shouldn't influence my decision about Dean.

But one week! I was so weak that I fell prey to whatever voodoo juju Sean had going on in a week. And to think I had a whole summer vacation to deal with him. What if I never got over this weird attraction? If something more blossomed between Dean and me the I'd be related to Sean. He'd be my brother-in-law. I probably won't see him either way, but we would share a relation that would be awkward. The sort of attraction I felt for Sean needed to be eliminated.

I stood from the swing, walking up to the wooden banister that bordered the porch and rested my hands on it. Inhaling deeply, I attempted to clear my mind but the humid air did no such thing. The sliding glass door opened and I smelt his manly scent before anything else. His brother smelt of old spice and him, it was all man and there was no other way to describe it.

"Oh, you're here..." His lack of disappointment did this weird thing to my stomach. I hoped he'd see me and head back inside, or I don't know, develop wings and fly away like some sort of fallen angel.

Fallen Angel. Wasn't that an attractive concept?

I ignored him but noticed the way he chose to stand a little too close beside me. His muscles rippled as he moved, flexing just enough for the veins on his tattooed arms to show themselves. The way the light caught his skin was marvelous, the shadow being downcast only emphasizing the ridges, dips, and curves.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, bringing one of the cancer sticks between his perfect plump lips. For a moment, just a second, I wanted to be that cancer stick just to feel how soft those lips were. The inside of my palm buzzed, remembering the gentle kiss he had left there earlier tonight. It was so out of character for him to do something like that. I was slowly beginning to understand why Amira felt so strongly toward him. Even if it made her look loony.

He lit the cigarette and the horrid stench of burning nicotine hit my nostrils with vengeance. I tried to hold in my coughing attack, but just like the first time, I failed and ended up waving my hands around me attempting to part air the way Moses parted the red sea so I could get oxygen.

Sean chuckled - a sound that was too good to be mad at - as he held out the little devil stick to me, "Want a pull? Might take away some of the stress painting your face."

"I'm not stressed," I huffed, scowling when I realized I used all my good oxygen up to say three words. Grunting curses under my breath, I moved to step off the porch and into the small garden Lacy had. There was no pool but there was a massive trampoline in the backyard and it sure as hell was calling out to my inner child.

"Hey, where you off too?" His long, thick fingers gripped me by the arm and held me in place.

If he only knew that his manhandling opened up so many locked memories. He was the key I thought I threw away.