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I grabbed her hand and walked her to the living room couch. When we sat down, she started to lay down to place her legs on mine, but I stopped her. “First things first,” I said. She tilted her head, giving me a quizzical look. “Turn around,” I said. “I have to reward you for whooping my ass in the games,” I said, laughing slightly. “For that…you’ll get a back massage.”
She smiled. “Oh, I love the sound of that.” She turned around.
I grabbed her hair and put it over one shoulder, then started to massage her shoulders. She groaned the minute my hands made contact with her shoulders. I slowly kneaded my hands on them and she let out a moan.
As the back massage went on, her muscles continued to relax. I moved my hands down her back and no words were spoken. I was transfixed in watching her react to the ways I touched her. My hands reached the bottom of her shirt, and I couldn’t control the urge. I slipped my hands up the back of her shirt, gaining a bigger reaction. With my hands buried up her shirt and directly in contact with her flesh, she leaned back.
I smoothly rode my hands up and watched her. The side of her neck was visible to me and literally called out my name, begging me to kiss it. I stared at her. The way that she moved with every press of my hands had me tingling with fiery sensations. I moved in, unable to get rid of the desire that crept up inside of me and started kissing her neck. She released a deep groan, turned and wrapped her arm around my neck, holding me down as my hands rested underneath her shirt. I couldn’t feel a bra strap. She was bare breasted underneath her shirt and that got me even hornier.
She groaned, arching her back and I instinctively wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back to me. “Oh God,” she whimpered, egging me on and causing me to want to go further. Yet, still hesitant to take that next step, I kissed her hard one last time, then kissed her shoulder and reluctantly parted from the embrace.
“I should go,” I whisper.
She turned around and gawked at me. “Do you have to?” she asked.
“Yeah, I really think I should,” I said. I slightly adjusted my hardened cock and hoped it wasn’t visible.
“Um…I didn’t even get a foot massage,” she whined.
I smiled politely. I was kicking myself for ending things so suddenly, however, knowing that it was for the best. “It’s late. I’ll do it next time, I promise,” I said in a low, throaty voice. My desire to be buried inside of Kemara was immense.
She nodded and got off the couch, then followed me to the door. We had only been back to her place for less than ten minutes and the tension between us was clear. She didn’t know why we stopped, but neither did I, other than my head seemed to be louder than my heart.
“Goodnight,” I said, brushing a quick kiss on her lips, then turning around and leaving her apartment before she could stop me. We were almost to that point, I had no doubt, but I had to be extra cautious, even if that was the last thing I wanted to be.
Chapter Eleven
Kemara
I didn’t know why Channing seemed to always pull back just when things were heating up, but in the end, I decided not to question it. I was living a real-life fairytale and I didn’t want to focus on what could be wrong. One minute I’m single and hoping against all odds I can find someone I can live this simple life with, no complications, no drama, and the next I’m swept up in this relationship with Channing that I enjoyed too much to doubt the little things.
It was easy and exactly what I was looking for. Plus, we were taking things slow. We were getting to know each other, before we took the next big step. That was how I wanted to see it. It wasn’t how my usual relationships happened. Then again, my typical relationships didn’t last, so I had every right to believe this would be different.
So, when we were one night cuddling on his couch, just watching a movie, and leaving me with this gentle calm feeling that Channing could be the one, I knew I was ready to bring up the fact that I wanted him to meet my family.
The movie ended and while Channing got the Blu-ray out of the machine, I proposed the idea to him. “What are you doing tomorrow night?” I asked.
He turned to me and smiled. “If it has something to do with me and you getting together, then whatever you have planned.”
I laughed. He was so sweet and he made me feel so safe and so loved. “Well, it has something to do with you, me, my sister, and my parents,” I stated. His eyes got big and I saw nerves take over. Here he was this buff man and he seemed scared. He got back to the couch and sat down next to me. “What do you say?” I asked.
“You want me to meet the parents?” he asked and I could see the anxiety rising in his eyes. His hue reddened and he looked like he’d seen a ghost. “You want me to meet your sister? Has she changed her theory on white guys?” he asked.
Truth was that she hadn’t and who knew if she would ever change her opinion, but it didn’t matter to me. I stood by that. She could think how she wanted to think. It was true that we ha
dn’t talked much since she walked out of the house, angry with me over our little debate about what a white man wants with a black woman, but I was choosing to believe that Channing was different than that.
“Probably not, but babe, that doesn’t matter to me. I want you to meet them. After all, our relationship can’t exactly go anywhere if you don’t, can it?”
He thought about that, then eventually shook his head. “I guess not.”
I was putting him in a tough spot. It was clear he didn’t know how to take the invitation, and while I wanted him to be excited to meet them, I couldn’t hope for a miracle with Tameka in the room. “It will be great. Trust me,” I said. All while I was being positive, I was hoping that I could trust my own words. It was a huge step for him to meet the family, and I wanted things to be perfect between us.
“Okay. I’ll do it for you,” he said. He leaned over and we kissed. The kiss was deep, even dipping down to my toes. In that moment, I craved him, although we were waiting on the perfect timing. I pulled back to make sure we didn’t do anything stupid.
“I better go,” I whispered. “Pick me up tomorrow at six, will that work?” I asked.
I stood up from the couch and he followed me to the door. “I’ll be there,” he said, turning me around to face him when we reached the door. He kissed me long and passionately as I wrapped my long fingers around the side of his neck.
