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Authors: Tananarive Due
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could see her in a candelit bathroom with this half-naked manchild? She and Ronn had never said they were exclusive. She hadn’t seen Ronn in a month. He only called her every three or four days now, not every night like he used to. It wasn’t like he was going home alone every night. She’d be crazy to believe that . “You know who my boyfriend is, right?” Phoenix said, to cover her obligations.
“Just what I read,” Kendrick said. He didn’t sound concerned.
“Keep that in mind before you say anything foolish to anybody. We’re straight?”
Ronn would never hurt her, and she didn’t think he’d try to hunt down a groupie she’d met on the road if he heard about it, but you never knew. One of Ronn’s overzealous fans might give Kendrick a beatdown if he started bragging. Anything could happen after that crazy shooting last month in New York, everybody saying G-Ronn and Three Strikes was behind it. That was bullshit—Ronn had hustled a little in the projects way back when, but he’d been more a businessman than a thug. Still, you couldn’t guess what other people would do in your name.
Kendrick hooked his hands into the waistband of his linen pants. “You don’t have to tell me twice. This is about me and my memories, and hopefully you and yours.”
Kendrick must have put too much bubble bath in the jetted tub, she realized. The bubbles were a mountain in front of her, so Phoenix had to carve a tunnel to see through. The bathroom reeked of the bubble bath’s sickly sweet strawberry scent. He’ll learn, she thought.
“Didn’t you promise to scrub my back? Better hurry, before I drown in these.”
“Sorry,” he said, timid. He knelt beside her, one knee against the marble floor.
He knocked away some of the bubbles, a path. “Lean over,” he said in her ear.
Phoenix leaned forward, her ears drowning in the water’s rush from the faucet near her face. Kendrick’s fingertips traced the trail of her spine. His fingers were more steady now than when he’d been in the hall, all hesitation and boyishness forgotten. His fingertips were smooth, and the tickle she felt at the end of his fingers grew into a burn.
“Phoenix.” He said her name as he rubbed soapy warm water across her back. He said it again as he encircled her with his arms, resting his palms across her breasts, gently pinching her waiting nipples with his fingertips. Phoenix . There was wonder in his voice.
And in his touch. Phoenix was shocked at the way his squeezing fingers locked the rest of her body in place, almost fetal, as if it were afraid to release something. Her lips parted as her body seemed to expand beneath the warm water, pleasure in a balloon.
“Does that hurt?” he said.
She shook her head. It wasn’t painful, but torture all the same. “Let’s go to the bed,” she said, thinking about how Gloria must be eating her heart out. Gloria was probably hoping Kendrick would sashay his chocolate loveliness over to her room next. Too bad. With blond hair like a magician’s wand, Gloria usually had her pick—but not tonight.
In her bedroom, Phoenix noticed her Rolex on her nightstand, a small, gleaming window to her conscience. The watch had a diamond bezel and dial, and it was the only gift she had accepted from Ronn. Her Rolex was the most expensive item she owned, more than her car and keyboards combined. She burrowed beneath the mound of covers, cool sheets swaddling her overheated skin, and felt like she was hiding. She hadn’t expected to feel bad. She’d told herself when she hit twenty-one she would stop doing things she felt bad about.
Kendrick climbed under the covers beside her. His long, bonelike manhood nestled against her hip, pulsing gently whenever she inhaled and her body rose. When he leaned over to kiss her breast, his lips were so gentle that they might have been kisses, or only hot breath. She could barely feel his lips and tongue. Ronn always took her breast in the palm of his hand,
“Just what I read,” Kendrick said. He didn’t sound concerned.
“Keep that in mind before you say anything foolish to anybody. We’re straight?”
Ronn would never hurt her, and she didn’t think he’d try to hunt down a groupie she’d met on the road if he heard about it, but you never knew. One of Ronn’s overzealous fans might give Kendrick a beatdown if he started bragging. Anything could happen after that crazy shooting last month in New York, everybody saying G-Ronn and Three Strikes was behind it. That was bullshit—Ronn had hustled a little in the projects way back when, but he’d been more a businessman than a thug. Still, you couldn’t guess what other people would do in your name.
Kendrick hooked his hands into the waistband of his linen pants. “You don’t have to tell me twice. This is about me and my memories, and hopefully you and yours.”
Kendrick must have put too much bubble bath in the jetted tub, she realized. The bubbles were a mountain in front of her, so Phoenix had to carve a tunnel to see through. The bathroom reeked of the bubble bath’s sickly sweet strawberry scent. He’ll learn, she thought.
“Didn’t you promise to scrub my back? Better hurry, before I drown in these.”
“Sorry,” he said, timid. He knelt beside her, one knee against the marble floor.
He knocked away some of the bubbles, a path. “Lean over,” he said in her ear.
Phoenix leaned forward, her ears drowning in the water’s rush from the faucet near her face. Kendrick’s fingertips traced the trail of her spine. His fingers were more steady now than when he’d been in the hall, all hesitation and boyishness forgotten. His fingertips were smooth, and the tickle she felt at the end of his fingers grew into a burn.
“Phoenix.” He said her name as he rubbed soapy warm water across her back. He said it again as he encircled her with his arms, resting his palms across her breasts, gently pinching her waiting nipples with his fingertips. Phoenix . There was wonder in his voice.
And in his touch. Phoenix was shocked at the way his squeezing fingers locked the rest of her body in place, almost fetal, as if it were afraid to release something. Her lips parted as her body seemed to expand beneath the warm water, pleasure in a balloon.
“Does that hurt?” he said.
She shook her head. It wasn’t painful, but torture all the same. “Let’s go to the bed,” she said, thinking about how Gloria must be eating her heart out. Gloria was probably hoping Kendrick would sashay his chocolate loveliness over to her room next. Too bad. With blond hair like a magician’s wand, Gloria usually had her pick—but not tonight.
In her bedroom, Phoenix noticed her Rolex on her nightstand, a small, gleaming window to her conscience. The watch had a diamond bezel and dial, and it was the only gift she had accepted from Ronn. Her Rolex was the most expensive item she owned, more than her car and keyboards combined. She burrowed beneath the mound of covers, cool sheets swaddling her overheated skin, and felt like she was hiding. She hadn’t expected to feel bad. She’d told herself when she hit twenty-one she would stop doing things she felt bad about.
Kendrick climbed under the covers beside her. His long, bonelike manhood nestled against her hip, pulsing gently whenever she inhaled and her body rose. When he leaned over to kiss her breast, his lips were so gentle that they might have been kisses, or only hot breath. She could barely feel his lips and tongue. Ronn always took her breast in the palm of his hand,