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I continued shutting down my office for the day. “I know. I know. Your satisfaction comes in the form of your worship.”
“Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with you before you left forDellatomorrow. You fly out in the morning, right?”
“First thing. I was hoping to find a flight for the night so I can quickly end day one, but the airlines weren’t cooperating.”
“I hear you. I wish I could be there for you.”
I cleared my throat. “It’s all good.”
“Who’s going this time?”
My eyes rolled up to the ceiling as the office phone was cradled between my face and shoulder. “Ummm… Jas.”
There was a hiccup before she echoed, “Jas. Oh. Okay. Sounds so…official.”
I sulked, but thoroughly happy. “Unfortunately, so it is.”
“You don’t seem too happy about it.”
Inhaling deeply, I sat up at my desk, still peering up to the ceiling. So many thoughts tumbling in my head, so many emotions bursting in my heart. It had been a whole seven days since Jas’ sleepwalking/sitting episode, and I’d been by his side each night all of six. Last night, I stayed home only because, after a long day at the dance studio and me meeting my goal of laundry and the start of packing for this Memorial Day weekend, I’d fallen asleep next to a suitcase after telling myself to lay down for a few minutes to ease the throbbing of my feet from dancing. I’d awakened to a call from Jas, checking in on me close to eleven. He’d been expecting me because it was my plan to stay with him last night.
I’d been hit with five revelations over the past week, discoveries about my preferences as a woman I wasn’t aware of, likely because with Austin, I rolled with the punches instead of exploring my needs. One discovery was I liked soft, random touches. They didn’t have to be accompanied by words, but silent acts of affection were so powerful to me. Like when Jas, Juggy, and I would be in the kitchen or dining room eating and deep in conversation, Jas’ possessive hand on me was soothing.
Also, I enjoyed sleeping completely naked or, at most, in a man’s tee shirt. Twisting and turning at night didn’t awake me as much when my bare skin was against a hot virile body. Those innocent bodily contacts subconsciously revved my mind and body up for explosive sex in the morning.
The third revelation was a kicker. Sucking dick was a pleasurable experience for me. Unraveling a titanium coated former gun-slinger and Harlem legend like Jas was so fucking empowering. The man all but cried with his most private and precious possession in my hands and mouth. The way he peered helplessly down at me, face strained and body rippling as I controlled him was fucking therapeutic.
Another revelation I’d come to was the power of worship. Each morning, Jas awakened to pray and even when he did on occasion at night, wasn’t a one-sided act. There was a presence looming in the room when Jas went into his prayer posture in his sitting room and took to his knees and elbows. He wasn’t loud and didn’t do weird movements. But his dedicated practice and the low rumbles of incanting was a peaceful, powerful sight to behold. I felt lighter in spirit when not coated in guilt for being present during such an intimate act.
But Jas’ confidence and unspoken decision of having me around when he prayed was a major turn-on, which had been the final revelation. The man carried a poised conviction like I’d never seen. Even Austin got nervous when practicing lines in my presence. But Jas? He’d even pray for me at night. I caught him a few times when I’d dozed off, but not lost to slumber. He lay his big hand over my arm or hand and would go quiet and unmoving before a squeeze then released me. Turn-on! It was hot, and inappropriately so. Something I would have loved to share with Peach, but I knew she’d kill me for my views. And I especially couldn’t tell her my thoughts of when he quietly read in bed at night, especially his Bible, and all I wanted to do was jump his bones.
So, no. I wasn’t happy about the rampant speed at which my feelings were growing for a man I’d just met three months ago. It was a little complicated considering I’d broken up with my boyfriend of three years in nearly the same time. It was unreal and so not like me, yet I was the same woman impatiently waiting to see him tonight although I’d been with him, virtually, for a week and would be with him the entire holiday weekend.
No, I was not happy with my attachment to a man whose full name I didn’t even know.
Taking a deep breath, I stood, ready to go. “Yup. Unhappy with the fact that I’m so damn happy.”
“A conundrum.”
“That would be Mr. Sinclair. Look, I’m on my way out of here. I’m checking out early to have a late lunch with Noelle, then I need to finish packing.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need me—well, I’m sure I’ll be with the Pollards, but you get what I mean.”
“I do. Love you.”
“Love you.”
“Bye.” I placed the phone into its cradle and grabbed my things.
That’s when I realized I’d forgotten about the address. I stepped out of my temporary office, since I’d given my father’s back to him, and found my way to Marge-Jean’s desk.
She’d just hung up on a call when she spun around in her chair, finding me there. Her eyes were wide behind her thick glasses and the silver wig on her head slightly off-kilter. “Shit. You scared me.”
“My bad. I’m checking out.”
“I know. I mean…” She waved her wrinkled hand across her desk, gesturing the mess. “You get to leave anytime you want while others do the real work around here until it’s done.”
I winked. “It’s called the business of the day. Not business until the end of the workday. Anyway, I came to ask you to please send a sympathy bouquet over to the Pollard family. I’ll text you the address within the hour. I’ll have to get it from Peach.”
