The Prelude
Sometime after lotsof forbidden dick, prayer, and reflection . . .
My eyes popped open on the morning of what was supposed to have been my wedding day—my dream wedding, no less. My vision was blurry, and my lids were heavy like sandbags. A burdensome sigh spilled from my mouth. The day I’d been stressing over for months had finally come. Yet, my case of cold feet and calling it all off at the last possible minute wasn’t what had the butterflies tormenting the pit of my stomach. Not evenclose. It was the man snoring next to me who’d always been the definition of off-limits.
My sheets smelled like sex and his iconic cologne—a mix of bergamot, rich woods, and lavender that never seemed to fade. Before I could move, his hard, melanated body shifted underneath the covers as he snaked his sculpted, tattooed arm around my waist, reeling me into his warmth.Shit.A relaxed sigh expelled from his wide nostrils. I was sure he was in no rush to wake up and start his day. I was also aware that our predicament wasn’t ideal, especially since he was my best friend’s brother.
I slowly kicked off the covers and reached for his hand, giving it a slight squeeze. I hoped to usher him back into the land of the living gently, but he didn’t move. I slowly moved his hand from around my waist, and he rolled over onto his side. He turned his toned, dark chocolate back to me, showing off his full back tattoo—1-9-9-0, the year of his birth inked in a large Old English font across his upper back with a large image of some playing cards with the wordsLife’s a Gambleunderneath.
I softly skated my French-tip, coffin-shaped nails up and down his spine, which finally made him stir. He pulled himself up, flexing his sides. His cocoa-brown eyes squinted against the light, spilling in through my open bedroom curtains. He looked over his shoulder at me before flipping back onto his back, spanning his tatted arms across my bed, and stretching his long limbs past my footboard.
As he stretched, I couldn’t help but watch his tatted abs flex. He gazed at me with tired eyes. “Mornin’.” He finally greeted me, his voice low, gravely, and thick with sleep.
I couldn’t tell if it was from him just waking up or if he’d lost his voice from all the groaning and grunting he’d done when he was balls deep inside me the entire day before. I knew mine felt extra scratchy.
“Morning,” I replied after clearing my throat.
“So, today was supposed to be the big day, huh?” he asked, stating the obvious.
The sound of his voice made me clench my thighs together, but I played it as cool as I could, somehow managing to keep my facial expression neutral.
“Yup.”
Sensing my distance, he lazily reeled me into him. There was a good chance he planned to keep me and my pussy hostage for as long as he could, but we both knew that wasn’t possible. We couldn’t pretend like we didn’t.
I expelled a defeated sigh. I was like a moth to a flame when it came to him. “You’re bad for me, you know that?”
“When has that ever stopped me?” he pointed out, nipping at the back of my shoulder.
He was right, and I hated him for it.
I turned around and straddled him, spreading my thighs from east to west around his waist. His eyes dropped to my exposed pussy and remained there, fixated on my hairless brown honeypot. Before I knew it, his thumb was strumming my clit like a guitar. I drew in a sharp inhale, thirsty for more and unable to stop him.
“So, whatchu wanna do?” he whispered before leaning forward to press his soft, full lips against mine.
I moaned, still tasting the remnants of me on his lips. Hearing that was like a green light to him. He rubbed my pussy faster, and I felt his dick starting to harden underneath me. Heat pooled between my legs, fogging my brain and fucking up my motor skills.
This man. This man. This man.
For the past three months, my head and my heart had been at war over his existence. His pull on me was heavier than gravity,yet every time I was around him, I felt like I was walking on a cloud. Two things could be true at once, I supposed.
“Fuck,” I whispered before somehow managing to find the willpower to pull away from his hypnotizing touch.
I didn’t know how I did it. It was literally only by the grace of God that I was able to break away from his grasp before his dick could find its way back inside me. Lord knows I didn’t want to, but I had to do what I had to do.
“You know whatwehave to do,” I responded, still breathless from his touch. “We gotta be there for Liv and tell your parents about . . . well, you know.”
I drew my eyes away from him. One more minute and I would’ve been riding him backward and forward again like I’d been doing in secrecy for the past few months. I pressed one last kiss against his lips, something of an apology, before sliding out of the sheets and off the bed.
On the one hand, there was me putting on my big girl panties and doing what was expected of me as a true friend. A best friend. What I knew was right. What I’d been pushing myself to do, but still dreading the truth coming out of my mouth, out of fear of being judged for my decisions. And on the other hand was the connection between Oak and me that had been my best-kept secret for way too long. And all the deepest parts of me wanted to keep it that way, although in some ways, the cat was already out of the bag.
I wished I could put my feelings on mute. All the nerves. All the doubts. All the voices. I wanted to silence everything, especially my heart. But it was far too late for all that. In a few hours, we’d be in a room filled with my best friend and her immediate family—including her fine ass older brother who’d confessed his love to me and was tired of hiding it. So why was I shitting bricks over being surrounded by people who I’d been around almost my entire life? Three words. Oakland AmariGray. If you knew him, you’d understand why I was willing to risk it all.
Oak was hypnotic. He had a knee-weakening smile, a hard, dark chocolate frame with tattoos inked from his neck to his torso, and a militant posture. Not to mention a thick dick with a curve that managed to hit my pussy with the perfect uppercuteverytime. And the way he’d slurped my pussy like an Icee? That shit should’ve been illegal. It probably was, depending on the country. He was exactly what I wanted in a man—always had been. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d always been a hundred percent off-limits in everyone’s eyes except mine.
Years ago, we crossed a line we never should’ve crossed. And for the past three months, we’d been doing somersaults and backflips over it, but the shot clock had finally run out of time. To paint the whole picture, I’ll take things back to the beginning . . .
Three monthsbefore the big day.
