Time Waits for No One

Chapter 5 - Pressed

Early August 1977

The summer breeze running through Jacqueline's hair as she walked through the streets of Harlem felt like a divine gift from heaven above on a sweltering summer day. So did the man running his fingers through hers, their hands maintaining a gentle sway as they traipsed through the neighborhood she called home, and he was the very reason the concrete she stomped through all her life felt like nothing more than clouds. The sun beat down on them, her only shade coming from his halo of an afro on her left shoulder, protecting her both from the road and sunburn.

"You hungry, baby?" He asked softly, his light, sweet tone tickling her eardrum as he leaned into her to inquire about her needs.

"No, but thank you, Michael. You're so thoughtful." she cooed, turning her head to grant him a kiss on the cheek in a quick show of gratitude. "Maybe we could go get some ice cream though, I'm burnin' up."

His brown eyes darkened as he exhaled a quiet laugh.

"Yeah, tell me about it," he remarked, giving her hand a light squeeze. Jacqueline scrunched her glossed lips into a shy smile, a light blush rapidly filling her cheeks. He was right, the heat between the two of them was just as palpable and ten times hotter than the sun rays hitting her ebony shoulders.

"You're so bad. What am I gonna do with you, boy?" she jibed, gently prodding his narrow side as she giggled. He stopped in his tracks too quickly for Jacquline's legs to process and she felt the pull as she threatened to break the connection of their fingers. She turned around, beginning to phrase a question about his sudden halt, but the smolder in his gaze had all the answers.

"I dunno, Jacqueline," Michael said, his voice quiet, but a challenge forming in his tone. "What are you gonna do with me?"

Deftly, Michael grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a nearby alley, unsure if the sudden shift in temperature from the shade or Michael's urgent initiation.

As soon as they were out of the flow of Amsterdam Avenue, Michael pulled Jacqueline into his body with an arm around her waist, pressing into her skin to bring her closer. Before she could utter a peep, his lips closed over hers, his free hand rushing to the back of her neck, cradling her as he kissed her with fervor. A moan escaped from her despite their airtight liplock and as his tongue made its way to explore hers, she had no concept of where she ended and he started. They just were; passionate and united. Gripping the ends of his yellow t-shirt, she accepted his challenge, slowly walking him back up against the painted brick wall, intensifying and savoring the kiss as if her very life depended on it.

Using his hold on her neck to crane her head backward, he dipped his head up her cheek, back to her ears, and down her neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses along the way. She rewarded his efforts with her jagged breathing and quiet whimpers as the ends of his Afro grazed her skin, sending an overwhelming mixture of sensations all through her body.

With a final parting kiss, Michael pulled away from her neck, pausing to look upon her face, a loving smile on his lips and in his eyes. Staring up into his eyes as he rubbed the small of her back, it took all her might to stop her from melting right there, grateful to be the object of His affection.

"Hey Jackie?" he asked, bringing his hand from her neck to push a wayward curl out of her face.

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you grab me some milk?"

"Huh?"

"I need milk. You know, to do my job? Our job?"

The cool shade of the alleyway and warm caress from Michael dissolved away into nothing as she came to from her immersive daydream, still behind the cramped coffee bar at Sister's Bookstore. Her first job and the only thing she was actually going steady with, Jacqueline was not enjoying an afternoon stroll with Michael Jackson, but pushing through the tail end of a shift in the community space. Sister's was part bookstore, part cafe, part venue for book clubs, community meetings, and prayer circles, and Sister's was also all Harlem and all black, taking up space on a quiet block in Sugarhill. Owned and maintained by one of James Carter's many friends, Joyce Matthews, it was a natural fit for Jacqueline to pass the time and make some money making lattes, recommending good reads, and chatting up her dear, yet agitated coworker and friend Donny.