Up In Flames

Chapter 7

Persian rugs. Always felt like their comfortability was a myth. The truth came to me under a sneaky, sexy, seasoned tigress. She rode me and kissed me, tongued me and fucked me, told me how good I felt inside of her.

At that hotel with a name I could not pronounce, paid for with an untraceable black card, none of our intellectual foreplay mattered. I gave her my body, let her fix whatever was going on inside her while I used her body to temporarily fix me. On the rear end of our one night affair, she cleaned me, kissed me and told me I had done 'so good', glowed as she said it. She fed me. Had gone to Needler's to get fresh food and cooked for me. When she came back to the bed, she held me and fed me until I faded into an orgasm and comfort food induced coma.

But today, this morning, I ate breakfast with the Henry's, stainless steel kitchenware clacking against eggshell white plates and wholehearted laughs. I felt like one of them, like family. Even with the woman I had shared a bed with last night three seats away. She was so sneaky, so secretive. There didn't seem to be a guilty bone in her body. She clung to her husband with her cage on her finger, her smile bright, and her laugh genuine.

Galore sat to the right of me and Azariya sat to my right. Their energy was hot, blazing me in the middle of their stirring emotions. I wanted to understand this. Wanted mostly to understand them.

"You look so pretty this morning," Galore told me.

Galore telling me I looked pretty was the compliment of all compliments. Her golden locs counterbalanced her dark skin, her round eyes and full lips resting atop that smooth flesh. She was gorgeous. Had the figure of a mermaid and toes that made the podophobic want her entire foot in their mouths.

"Say thank you Beyonce," She told me and my body shivered, growing warm with the flashback of my foresworn lover.

"Thank you."

"When Azariya told me about your college days, I pictured something different. I don't know why when you have such a beautiful name."

I faced more sin, gave in to her affection, and flirted back. I was sure Azariya heard me, wasn't so sure that she cared. "It's so rare for a beauty like you to be throwing out compliments."

"I know a delicacy when I see one."

My mouth salivated. Delicacies were meant to be eaten slow and savored. I was coveting someone else's woman, again, a woman of the same lineage.

I looked away from her, gave my eyes to Azariya. Expected her to be angry with me for speaking to the woman she loved the most in the world. Instead, her pupils carried lust, an early morning dew of cravings and desire.

"What is happening right now AZ?"

"Why do you look so good today?"

"So I was ugly the other night or something?"

She smiled widely, showing me the dimple that she shared with her twin brother. The same brother that stared at us with jealousy and envy. I wouldn't look to him. Azariya was safe. She had someone she loved, someone that loved her, someone she wouldn't give up for the world. Everybody needed somebody, and then they wanted some more.

Zyon had nobody. He wanted me. I refused to let myself become his obsession.

"Galore finds you extremely attractive. I stand beside you and the lust in her eyes shoots upward like a rocket. She gets so wet. It's us. Not me or you, but the both of us together. Says I remind you of her and you remind her of me."

"How do you know that?"

"Galore is honest. She has the words to say it and she will. She's so honest that it hurts sometimes."