Page 58 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

Whatever she sees in my eyes, it makes worry knit her finebrows together, and she runs, taking the steps quickly to the next floor beforeI can warn her that I will chase.

I let her go for now. Over the years, I’ve learned when topursue and when to fall back, biding my time and playing the long game. Twelveyears is a very long game. It was one kiss. One conversation. ThatI could walk away from. I did. But the kiss we just had? The attractionsimmering between us…that is worth exploring. This isn’tabout then. It’s about now.

I follow more slowly, and as expected, there’s no sign ofTakira when I reach the foyer. I glance through the front door someone isholding open and see her standing outside. I watch her for a few moments beforean Uber pulls up and she leaves. I’ll figure out my next step later. There’s apattern in my life. Yes, I’m always ready, prepared when the moment comes, butopportunities have a habit of presenting themselves to me. I’m just the guy whorecognizes when they come and knows how to make the most of them. Pundits haveoften drawn parallels between my career and guys like Tom Brady, who, as asixth-round draft pick, was the back-up quarterback. When the starter DrewBledsoe was injured, Brady had to step in. Seven Superbowl rings later, therest, as they say, is history. Preparation meeting opportunity. Discipline making up for deficits. That’s always been my calling card,too.

I wander outside, grinning when I see my friends lounging bythe pool. Lotus is perched on Kenan’s knee. Iris and August are stretched out,entwined on a lounge chair, holding hands.

“You guys are sickeningly sweet,” I say in mock disgust,flopping into an empty chair at the table beside Kenan and Lotus.

“How will you survive all this disgusting sweetness on ourbae-cation?” Lotus asks, biting Kenan’s ear and waggling her brows at me.

“Oh, you mean the geriatric cruise.” I chuckle.“Also known as Kenan’s fortieth birthday party?”

“You don’t want a free two-week ride on a yacht in theMediterranean?” Kenan grumbles, tucking his chin into the curve of Lotus’sneck. “Stay your ass at home.”

“Yeah, Naz,” August says, standing and walking over from thelounge chair. “It’ll be all couples, and we know how awkward that could be foryou since you haven’t had a meaningful relationship in, oh…ever.”

“He has a very meaningful relationship,” Kenan deadpans,“with his trainer.”

“Stop teasing him,” Iris chides, joining us at the table.“It’s not his fault he has commitment issues.”

“I do not have commitment issues.” I laugh, leaning thechair back on two legs.

“He just hasn’t found the right person,” Lotus says,narrowing her eyes in that way she has that makes you feel like she’s peeledyour skin back and found something interesting. “Though he was all up inTakira’s personal space today.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I look over theinfinity pool, not meeting the curious eyes of my friends. “Tell me more aboutthis cruise we’re going on. Who’s coming?”

“Well, the four of us, obviously. And there’s…” Lotus countson her fingers silently. “Six couples.”

“And you.” August grins.

“You could always bring a plus one,” Lotus says.

“I don’t have a…” The rest of my denial gets lost in ajumble of thoughts as a brilliant plan emerges. One that formulates as yet another opportunity presents itself.

“So, Lotus,” I say, tossing her a devious grin. “Does shehave to know she’s my plus one?”

Chapter Six

Takira

I drank too much and didn’t fuckenough.

Correction. I didn’t fuck atall, and it’s been so long that I’m feeling it. My head pounds, andmy pussy throbs. She’s mad at me for walking away from what could have been—butnow we’ll never know—the best dick of my life. Maybe Naz wouldn’tdeliver on that kiss, but the way he took my tongue in his mouth and suckedhard while his big hands were so gentle at my throat, on my shoulders, arms,back? That was a man who knew what he was doing, and he wanted to do it to me.

And I’ll be damned if I didn’t wantto let him.

“Shit.”

I roll onto my back and slide a hand into my panties beneaththe coolness of the sheets. As soon as I got home, I downedquite a bit of wine, hoping to take off the edge Naz pushed me to. I peeledthat bodysuit off, tossed my Jimmy Choos into a corner, and crawled in bedbare. I woke up soaked from dreams of that man, a collage of the past, thepresent, and the future he gave me a glimpse of last night with a mere kiss. Afuture where he fucks me like I’ve been wanting,needing for a long time. I like it hard and deep and nasty.

No apologies. No shame.

My sister even got me a vibrator for Christmas. My people know.None of those Groundhog dates have led to anything—not only no relationships,but no hook-ups. I love sex, but I’m discriminating. Not just anyone is gettingup in here, and so far, I haven’t been impressed by the LA buffet.

The last great orgasm I wasn’t personally responsible foroccurred two weeks ago at an industry party. There was this girl…Janna, Ithink. Her name is fuzzy. The way that chick robo-tongued me for like an hour—that part is crystalclear. She left no crumbs. I find women tend to take their time—to be attunedto your body’s responses. Once they find a spot, they staythere. It would be really convenient if I didn’t alsolike to be filled, like, to the brim with dick. If I didn’t like a man’s roughhairs abrading my legs and crave that weight on top ofme, behind me. If I didn’t like to wake up tucked into the solid bulk of a manat my back, but I do. I’ve given and received to all and enjoyed it all. I wantto feel good with people I like and respect. Whatever you call that, that’swhat I am. Bisexual. Sexual. Others can choose to labelit. I just live it.

I work my clit, slick and swollenbetween my legs, trail the other hand up my torso to squeeze my breast, pluckat one nipple. My body responds, but there’s something detached about this.Something almost mechanical that leaves me cold inside even as parts of me gohot. I give up, jerking my hand from my panties and letting it fall by my headin a clenched fist.