Remind Me To Forget About You...

By Anthony Monroe

Loving couple... Proves love is something that only gets hotter with time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anthony Monroe
• Release date: Jan 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310816741

Anthony Monroe

I am an aficionado of all things erotic.

Book preview

Remind Me To Forget About You

Anthony Monroe

Published by Smashwords

This is a work of fiction. My Stories are meant to be entertaining, and none of them are real. Please understand the difference between fantasy and reality. Enjoy them responsibly…

Anthony Monroe

Smashwords Edition

It was around three o'clock in the morning when Natalie heard her phone ring. Of course, at the time she didn't know it was ringing. She'd been in the middle of a deep dreamless sleep and hadn't realized what that annoying, distant sound was. She figured it out soon enough though, because it wouldn't stop. Still in the incoherent stupor that sleep usually put her in, she tried to block out the noise by throwing her pillow over her head, ignoring that niggling voice of common sense that said a phone call this late could be about something important.

It kept ringing until finally, a gruff masculine voice next to her said, Natalie, get the...Who the fuck could be calling...

She heard a deep sigh, felt the bed shift and a warm body stretch across her back. Then the ringing stopped.

Hello? his rough gravelly voice said in greeting. There was silence for a long moment, and then a huff and the words, Yeah, hold on a minute. Natalie? He shoved her shoulder twice. Natalie, wake up. It's for you.

His next words brought her into full consciousness.

Some... a sneak attack yawn interrupted him, and then he said, Some Black dude…calls himself Randy... Says it's important...

Natalie's heard Travis laugh under his breath as her head peeked out from underneath the pillow so fast that Travis blinked in sleepy surprise under his mused black hair. She wiped a hand over her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes, and sat up on her elbows to take the phone. She was embarrassed by how excited she must look, which was reflected in the look Travis gave her as he handed her the receiver, but she would have to worry about that later. What if something horrible had happened? Randall Duval wasn't known for calling her in the middle of the night for something unimportant. That's what emails were for. So, she felt a certain amount of trepidation when she took the phone and said, Hey Randy? Is everything okay?

Hey Natalie! I'm so sorry I'm calling this late! he yelled. She immediately sat upright her heart beating in her chest. Randall's voice always had that effect on her.

About a year and a half had gone by since that incredible, sex-filled week when she visited her sister and he caught her masturbating on his bed. In that time she'd graduated college, moved closer to her sister Jackie, and gotten a job. But when it came to him, nothing had changed. She was still the girl that found herself getting wet just hearing the smoky sound of his raspy voice and thinking about his caramel colored skin flowing across her body, the girl that had yet to find a man that measured up to his sexual prowess. They'd managed to keep in touch, even after he moved out of her sister's place to start really pursuing a music career full time. When they could, when he and his quartet were playing a gig that she could make, or when he was in town for a while, they would get together and see just how much their bodies were still in sync. But the reality was that they were on two separate paths and a real relationship wasn't going to work. They'd never talked about it too in depth, since technically they were never a real couple. But, they both agreed it was the right decision to keep things from getting too heavy.

That didn't mean it hurt any less for her.

In the time since their strange quasi breakup, he'd set his sights on traveling and making music, which he and the jazz quartet made up of a few of his longtime friends began doing in earnest.

The four friends called their group Liquid Soul, and by the time she was just month before finishing her last year of college they had already found a way to get there music out to the larger public. They'd insisted on producing their own music, and with the help of connections that he and the drummer, Donavan Wright, had made in college and beyond. A Facebook page, some successful touring, a few demos and mp3s later, and the quartet was well on its way to being recognized by people on the indie music circuit. And as biased as she was because she was carrying a torch for their lead horn player, she'd be the first to admit that they were more than good enough to deserve the attention. All of that was good news, even if it took him away from her.

But, now she was up in the middle of the night listening to Randall's strained, excited voice and she was afraid something was wrong, despite her happiness at hearing his voice. It had been months since they'd been in the same city, let alone gotten to spend time with each other, so anytime she heard his voice on the phone she felt giddy.

There was commotion on the other line and she could hear him walking, could hear the sound of wind whooshing through the phone. Once again he apologized for waking her and she felt her heart thumping with anxiety.

No, Randall, it's fine, but what's going on? Did something bad happen? she asked.

No, no! Nothing like that, sweetheart, he said in that deep, raspy voice, and the familiar term of endearment sent a rush of warmth over her skin. It's all good news, but I couldn't wait to tell you till tomorrow.

The bedside lamp clicked on at the other side of the bed. She turned around quickly to find Travis, who was truly nothing more than a friend with benefits, staring at her with those dark blue eyes and giving her a look that clearly said, "Who the fuck is Randall? And why is he calling at..." he stared at the clock, three o'clock in the morning?

Natalie said, Hold on a sec, Randy, I gotta go in the other room. To Travis she said, He's a really good friend, I'm sorry, it won't take long, so you can go back to sleep.

The look on Travis' face made her think his mind must be channeling Biz Markie. But you say he's just a friend/And you say he's just a friend!

She made sure he couldn't see or hear her then she sighed and rolled her eyes as she padded into the living room. Travis was sweet, but he wasn't her serious boyfriend. They had an understanding that had been similar to her and Randall's, though not nearly as intense. In fact, this was only the fourth time they'd slept together, and though it was good, and Travis was a guy she enjoyed spending time with, it never once occurred to her that they could be anything but the occasional distraction. It was new territory for her. She'd always had a serious boyfriend, as shitty as some of them were, before she got caught in the strange whirlwind that was Randall Duvall. But after months apart and no sign of real progression in sight for them, she convinced herself that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to branch out to more available men.

Finding available men that didn't make her want to join a nunnery was another matter. Travis was the first guy to not push for her to be his girl, or make her feel like having sex with him would leave her feeling used and dirty. Which was why he was the only guy she'd slept with since Randall. He was up for whatever when she called and asked to hang out, and she returned the favor. It wasn't always a call to have sex, but when it was they were safe, and when it was over, they could still go out and get a beer. It was a comfortable arrangement, until he started looking at her recently like he was right now, or asking her cryptic questions about whether or not she was dating anyone else. It didn't matter that she wasn't; that wasn't what she was looking for after her long string of bad male decisions.

She knew that look, and she knew what it sounded like when someone was forcing themselves to sound casual; it was the way she looked when she looked at Randall, the way she sounded when she casually asked him who he was seeing now. She needed to get away from that look in Travis' eyes so she could concentrate on the person calling her, the person whose voice still sent pulses of heat all over her body, without feeling guilty.

Hey, sorry about that, she said stifling a yawn and rubbing at her eyes.

Did I interrupt...you know, you and the guy that picked up the phone? he asked, his raspy voice more sedate now. She heard him clear his throat on the other end. One of his few nervous ticks.

She nibbled at her lip and spared a glance over her shoulder, as if she expected to see Travis standing there and watching her. The golden lamplight from her room was shining into the hallway, but that was the only indication she had that he was still awake and possibly listening to her.

Um...yeah, I mean, no. We were asleep but...it's okay. What's going on?

She heard silence for a moment, and then, I'm sorry I... sorry I woke you guys up. I wasn't even thinking straight. Typical, right, but I wanted to –

There was the sound of loud voices cheering in the background that muffled out part of his statement and made him laugh. The sound sent an involuntary shiver through her body, as if she had recorded his laugh into the very marrow of her bones.

Are you celebrating something? she said with a weary laugh. Then her sleep deprived brain froze, and she processed another alternative to his reasons for calling. It wasn't bad news. He was obviously calling after a show from the sound of all the commotion, and the voice of Alexander Kessel, the keyboardist, was in the background along with some girls that were giggling like giggles were going out of style.

Yeah, we are he said, the excitement in his voice returning full force. A music exec for Suite Sound Records saw us play tonight. He said he was feelin' our music and he wants to meet with us at the end of the week. Do you know what that means?!

She couldn't speak, her brain was having trouble functioning. Suite Sound was an indie label that spawned when the CEO of Verve Music Group promised his son his own label on his 21st birthday. Now Suite Sound had produced most of the music which she and Randy now enjoyed. She used to lie against him in bed and listen as he explained the various riffs and techniques being employed by the various groups and artists until she fell asleep. After he moved out of Jackie's they spent hours upon hours in his bed; making love, watching television, but mainly listening to the music of the artists that the Suite Sound exec, Johnathan Martin had managed to blend into his labels unique sound. Most had been either been plucked out of obscurity or created by blending several genres of music. Now she was half asleep, wondering if he too was talking about a recording contract to become a member of that unit’s label; a real chance to be one of those success stories.

Are you saying...? She said as the thought began to take hold.

Yeah…He wants to sign me…us, Nat! We’re going to be meeting him and the heads of the label this Thursday and if everything goes the way it supposed to with the contract –

Are you kidding me? Even before she could speak her face was breaking into an exuberant smile. "Are you fucking kidding me!?

Nah, sweetheart! Liquid Soul is gonna have a fucking record deal!

Oh my God! Oh my God!! she screamed into the phone, jumping up and down, squealing and listening to the sound of his laughter on the other end, completely oblivious to anything else in the world.

Look, I know it's late and all, and I'm sorry, but I couldn't wait to tell you. I just couldn't wait. The sound of her sincere laughter caused him to reflect on their time together, he knew he had to change the subject; and fast. You were the first person I thought of – well you, Jackie, and Ian but she'd of kicked my ass if I called her this late, he quipped with a chuckle hoping he added levity to the moment.

The soft edge in his voice, made her heartbeat pound in her chest. She wished she could wrap her arms around him and show him just how happy she was for him. She wished she could say something more eloquent than Oh my God. She wished it had been him pressed against her as she slept. She wished she was hearing his voice because his lips were by her ear, and not because it was being carried via the receiver of a phone. She wished she could taste his mouth, his neck, his chest, lick and nibble her way down those twin tribal tattoos on his sides...

She hated going down that line of thought. It was bad enough that she still fantasized about him, but to know that it wasn't meant to be and that she still felt as strongly as ever made it hard. She wished that she could just forget him sometimes, that Travis or anyone else would be enough to drive her strong desire for him to the deepest corners of her mind. But just when she started getting used to the idea that they weren't going to be together, he would call, or come into town, or someone would play the one songs of his and cause her think of him. Hearing him croon about ‘Never Again Telling a Lie’ would leave hers transported back to the time that he told her that he’d regretted lying about being single, and not being interested. He had written that song specifically for her, the song was also known by the two of them as Natalie; that led to then hooking up for a wild fuck session, followed by that one glorious week where she'd had him all to herself. Together they had a secret, it was tucked away in their collective love for one another. But it didn't do any good to think about that kind of thing now, so she forced herself to listen to him, to cheer him on as he talked about continuing to move on without her.

I'm so ecstatic for you and the guys, Randall. You have no idea. I can't wait till you get it down in writing so I can start bragging about how I know a bunch of jazz legends. I'm going to have to tell all my friends. They're gonna freak! Then she thought about that; her telling her friends about a jazz musician she knew and once she told them he was Black she hoped her elation didn’t betray her lust for his chocolate skin and soft caresses. She smiled to herself at the thought of it all, and tried to refocus on their conversation; although she was happy for him she also wanted him inside her.

He laughed, started to say something, and once again his words were blocked out by the background noise.

Can't even fucking hear myself think! he grumbled good-naturedly. Listen, we're gonna be back in town in a couple days so we can get ready to meet with the label. If you're not busy we could meet up, he paused and again cleared his throat. You can bring your boyfriend, unless you've got plans or some–

Oh, no Travis isn't my boyfriend. she said quickly, wincing at the excitement in her voice and how she must have been loud enough for Travis to hear it. We're just...we're just friends. She wasn't exactly sure how to explain why a male friend was lying in bed with her when he called, so she decided to hop right over that awkward explanation. I'm not busy this week. I can see you whenever you get back and you can tell me everything.

Cool, he said, and once again she found her body thrumming. It was rare that she got to see him, but when she did, she knew there was a good chance that she would get to feel him inside of her again.

I'll give you a call, we'll go out and eat or something, really celebrate and catch up. Just the two of us.

Okay, she managed to whisper, swallowing hard. She almost groaned at the prospect of spending an entire evening with him for the first time in months. She hadn't realized how much she missed seeing him face to face until that very moment. Congratulations, babe. I'm so, so proud of you.

He yelled his thanks over the ruckus around him, laughing. I'll let you get some sleep. Night, Natalie.

She smiled softly and said, Night, Randy. She caught herself using their special name. She hoped he didn’t catch it too.

She clicked the phone off, cradling it against the butterflies in her stomach and processing his voice, his great news, and the fact that in a few days she'd be able to show him just how happy she was for him. Then she heard a zipper and turned.

Travis was leaning against the doorjamb, zipping up his jacket and grabbing his motorcycle helmet off the floor. She was going to ask him why he was leaving, if he was upset, but the look in his eyes made her not even bother. It was obvious he'd been listening to her conversation. She didn't blame him for not wanting to play second fiddle and spend the night.

He was still sweet. He still gave her a kiss and told her to call him whenever. But when he left she couldn't help but feel that hollow sense of defeat. Travis was the kind of guy a girl was lucky to actually date, and here she was pining for a voice on the other end of the phone. A voice couldn't keep her warm at night. A voice on the phone couldn't hold her and make her feel safe and special, not in the way she wanted to feel.

But, it wasn't just anyone's voice. It was Randall's; that voice carried the memories of nights when he had kept her warm, when he'd made her feel like the sexiest and most sexiest woman in the world. She was his little Latina whore, and he was her first and only Black lover. That was too hard to let go of, even when holding on caused her to watch a good White guy's back as he closed the door on what might have been.

*****

Randall was leaning against Natalie's apartment door, swiveling his phone in his hands before finally tucking it into his jacket pocket. He was waiting for Natalie, who was running late for their night of live music and good food at a nearby club. She'd called about a half hour ago to apologize for running late at work, but he hadn't been upset. Having worked in the thankless world of retail himself, he knew that sometimes customers decided to come in five minutes before closing and stay as long as they damn well pleased. A smile crossed his face at that thought, at how far he'd come from those days and how, if things went the way they were supposed to, the quartet wouldn't have to worry about that ever again.

He looked up, and turned his head to the left, seeing a couple come down the hallway towards him. He'd seen the guy a couple of times when he visited Natalie, and he gave him a nod and a smile. The guy nodded in return and then turned his attention back to his smiling girlfriend. He had his arm around her waist, pulling her in close while she wrapped her arm around him, too. He was in the middle of some joke that Randall hadn't caught the beginning of, and the girl laughed and told him he was so stupid. The sight hit him in his chest and a dull ache set in.

It had been a while since he'd had a girlfriend. In fact, he hadn't dated anyone exclusively since his strange sort-of break up with Natalie about a year ago. Too much time on the road, too many gigs, and too many songs to write the combination left him with time for little else. It kept them apart, and it was for the best. They couldn't be anything stable to one another, no matter how good the sex was, or how much he loved being with her. But that didn't mean he didn't miss the feeling of wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her, or hearing her laugh at his inside jokes.

He sighed, and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. If he were honest, things hadn't worked out with Natalie because of a tragic case of bad timing. After that week of fucking non-stop, she went back to school and he decided he could not spend one more year helping people get jobs as an employment recruiter, while he had to in order to focus on his music he hated leaving so much that it hurt to get up in the morning. Liquid Soul got a manger soon after that and they started playing more gigs. They recorded a demo CD because their drummer, Donavan Wright, had a friend from college that was producing decent tracks out of the studio in his house.

Things fell into place while she was away at school. When she would finally be able to visit, he'd usually be touring again. A few times she met him on the road when they started playing shows farther away from home. But, when she finished school, he was already touring with the quartet nonstop, practically living in motels or on a tour bus. That wasn't fair to her. She deserved to have someone that was there to hold her at night, not just fuck her good when he was in town. She deserved a guy that was going to take care of her, be there for her graduation from college and help her move into her new place when she moved closer to her sister. All of the things he wasn't there for, all the things that still made him feel like shit when he put his clothes on and left her sleeping to go back on the road.

Still, it didn't change the fact that when he was near her all he wanted to do was bury himself balls deep into the sweet, tight pink fissure between her thighs. It didn't stop him from wanting to touch his lips and tongue to any part of her he could reach, or wrap her up in his arms and hold her when he was done. It was why he was so apprehensive about seeing her again. She was actually seeing someone else. He knew what kind of friend picked up her phone that night. He'd been in such shock at hearing his voice that he almost hung up and tried dialing her number again to see if he had called the wrong place. They didn't keep secrets from each other. That's how Randall knew that she hadn't been seeing anyone since him. Or at least that's what he'd thought until the other night. As selfish as it was, especially since he'd hooked up with a few girls since he'd been away, he still couldn't help but be unhappy about that fact. It was stupid of him, obviously. As much as he wanted her, it didn't really do them any good to cling to each other and let opportunities with other people pass them by.

Truthfully, they had decided and agreed that it would be best to be open to seeing other people. It sounded good in theory, but the execution was more difficult. They still gave into the sexual chemistry they had whenever they were near each other. It was like they just picked up where they left off, continuing a relationship that should have long since dissolved. It was a cruel joke that they just seemed to get closer the farther apart they were, that fucking her always seemed to get better each time, because they always had to face reality in the end. And now there was some new guy floating around, sleeping in her bed, showing her body things he would be showing her if he were around. Some guy that was holding her at night when she fell asleep the way he wanted to.

He turned without thinking to his right and this time he saw Natalie rushing down the hallway. The sight of her made him swallow and stand upright, the goofy grin he tried to suppress spreading across his face. She gave him a sheepish, apologetic smile in return, her eyes glittering and her tan brown skin glowing. Her dark black hair was down, pinned at the sides with silver clips and fluttering against her shoulders as she hurried towards him. She was wearing a crisp white shirt tucked into her grey wide-leg pants underneath her black wool coat and black heels. And she looked so good it was hard to breathe.

Sorry I'm so late! she said when she reached him, not stopping until she was wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "This fucking bitch at work, man – please explain to me why she just had to find the perfect lamp ten minutes before closing, because I don't fucking get it."

Well, you still cuss like a sailor, he quipped. Glad to see some things never change.

She giggled and when she sank deeper into his embrace, he lifted her up and held her tightly against him. His moan of pleasure at feeling her pressed against him was muffled in her hair. That familiar, haunting smell of lilacs filled his nostrils and he breathed the comforting scent in deeply, storing it away like all the other things he loved about her.

It's alright, sweetheart, he whispered against her temple. I'm just so glad to you see you. He pulled away to look down at her, and his smile came out full force when he saw her eyes glittering in the light of the hallway, and a smile to rival his own spreading her full lips.

Natalie stared up at Randall as if it were a miracle that he was there, standing at her door and smiling down at her. His head was now shaven, but other than that nothing else had changed. His eyes were still that captivating chocolate brown that seemed to see right through her. His nose was straight with an upturned tip and his lips were only much fuller than her own. That coupled with the soft indent in his chin and the strong lines of his jaw made him look chiseled and handsome, just masculine enough to keep him from being called beautiful. He was tall, and well-muscled, and underneath his black leather jacket, scarlet dress shirt, dark blue jeans, and scuffed black work boots was a body that still made her pussy hum. She could almost see those twin tribal tattoos on his sides ending in jagged points at the cut of his hips, his leanly muscled thighs and the beautiful brown length of his cock jutting out from a nest of black curls. She licked her lips, almost afraid he could see her recalling the taste of his brown-red skin.

It's good to see you too, babe. I missed you, she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek before she forced herself to dislodge from his embrace. He could probably hear the hunger in her voice and feel the heat coming off of her body. Yet, at this point in their relationship lying about the way she felt was beyond her. It was strange to be so open with him sometimes, but he couldn't imagine the effort it would take to pretend he didn't affect her.

I'm so sorry about being late, she said, turning to unlock her door and step inside. He followed her in, closing the door behind him while she said, I swear it won't take long for me to get ready. I just need to shower real quick, and change –

What for? You look great in that. His hand gestured up and down at her body. She took off her coat and threw it over the couch. He smiled when he noticed her signature blush.

No way, dude. I was sweating running from the subway. And I'll be damned if I wear this for one more minute, she scoffed, not wanting to wear her work uniform when she had a perfectly new outfit to wear for tonight. I swear, twenty minutes! That's all I need, she said hurrying towards the bathroom.

He watched her take the clips out of her hair while trying to simultaneously take off her heels and hop/sprint towards the bathroom. He licked his lips and smiled, eyeing her curvy frame as she entered the bathroom. He caught the slightest inkling of skin on her chest while she unbuttoned her shirt and then the door closed and she disappeared from view. For fun he glanced at his watch and started a countdown. He had yet to meet a woman, including his modest mother, who could shower, change, and be ready to leave in anything under forty minutes. He took off his jacket, found a seat on the couch and flipped on the TV, settling in for the wait.

Natalie was tempted to relieve the sexual tension Randall had sparked in the shower, but she really did want to hurry up and change. So she skipped rubbing one out in favor of taking a brisk five minute shower. She turned off the water, hopped out, dried off quickly and sprayed on some lightly scented perfume into her still-damp skin that would leave it fresh and soft before hightailing it to the bedroom.

Randall heard a door open, the patter of feet, a thump, and then some liberal curses that signaled she was out of the bathroom and in her room rushing to change. He laughed at her klutziness and checked his watch.

Not bad, he muttered, making a somewhat surprised face. At this rate she'd be done in thirty five minutes instead of forty.

She was making good time. She slithered on some thin black lace thong panties, and went to the closet to get the dress she was going to wear for tonight. It was a simple, black sleeveless number with see- through mesh from the collar to just above the tops of her breasts. From there the dress became a fuller chiffon material that swished around her curves while still hugging them. It ended with a ruffled trim at mid-thigh with peeks of the see through mesh completing the hem. It was perfect for an informal night out but still looked classy enough for dinner. She slid on the silky material, slipped her arms through the openings and then went to the mirror to freshen up her makeup.

She didn't wear much to begin with, just some eyeliner and a plum colored lip gloss and mascara. She pulled her hair into a low side ponytail, pulled on a few chunky black bracelets that accented her skin tone and then went to find the heels she had decided to wear. She found one on them cluttered floor of her closet, but the other one remained elusive. She was buried so deep into her closet looking for it that without thinking she lifted her head and bumped it on an overhead shelf.

"Oww! Son of a bitch!"

Randall wiped a hand down his face with a laugh and stood, making his way towards her bedroom at a leisurely pace. It was so cute how hard she was trying to get ready for him, but it would be pointless if she had a fatal freak accident in the process. Her one bedroom apartment was too condensed a space for a clumsy girl like her not to run into something and fuck herself up before they could leave. He walked to the door, which was slightly ajar, and pushed it open. She didn't hear him and he paused in the doorway, looking down at her crouched on all fours, and then quietly leaned against the doorjamb to watch her. Her head was buried in her closet and she was tossing shoes behind her. His eyes were rapt over the milk chocolate skin of her back laid bare because she had yet to zip up her dress and wasn't wearing a bra. The skirt was caressing the curves of her ass, and the hem was dangerously high so that it revealed glimpses of her ass cheeks and black lace thong that she was wearing every time she bent over farther. Her legs were long and silky looking, and his fingers flexed as he remembered just how silky they actually were. The tantalizing sight of her took a comical turn when he noticed she was wearing one black heel and the other foot was bare.

"Fuck! Where the fuck is my fucking shoe?" she squealed from the dark cave that had swallowed up her shoe and refused to return it. She came up for air, sweeping a stray strand of hair out of her face. She really did need to calm down. She chalked up her little manic episode to a lousy day at work and the excitement Randall's presences had sparked in her. The heels weren't really necessary. She could find some other shoes; her black ankle boots would work well enough. She turned to pick through the pile strewn across her floor and immediately looked up to see Randall standing in the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest, his were ankles crossed... and his eyes were all over her. There was an amused smile on his face, but her body recognized the heat in his almond brown eyes immediately. They scanned her body for the longest three seconds of her life, and when he stepped into her room she thought her muscles had lost all ability to move. She sunk farther onto her knees, feeling as if she were melting as he came closer. But he never made it over to her. Instead, he knelt at the foot of her bed and reached underneath of it to pull her missing shoe out.

Immediately she burst into laughter and covered her face, shaking her head.

Looking for this? he asked with a slight chuckle.

Oh, how could you tell, she snorted, gesturing at her scattered shoe collection. I'm such a ditz.

You know they have racks for shoes these days, he quipped, sitting on her bed, directly across from where she was kneeling. I think how they work is... you put your shoes in them, and then you can avoid getting injured because you've hidden them from yourself.

Oh ha, so funny, she deadpanned, tilting her head back and gripping her stomach. Give me the shoe smartass. She held out her hand but he shook his head and motioned for her to come to him.

She smiled at him and stood, hobbling with one high heel on. She stood before him with her eyebrows raised, looking down at him in anticipation at what he would make her do to procure her shoe. She was starting to wonder if they were going to make it out of her apartment. She wanted to push him onto his back, to straddle his hips and move his clothes aside so that she could sink her body onto his hot, hard length. She brought her hands to his shoulders, her fingers sliding against the soft fabric of his shirt and his broad shoulders. She wanted to feel his soft bare skin under her fingertips, under her nails, but he was the one whose fingertips were getting to touch bare skin. He was lifting her leg, sliding the high heel onto her foot for her. Her knees wobbled and her body felt weaken when his fingers glided over the back of her ankle, her calf, and then behind her knee while she set her foot down.

He licked his lips when her fingers moved towards his neck and caressed his bald head. She reversed her path and her fingers traced the black cord of the necklace that he wore until her fingers were stroking the rectangular silver pendant against the hollow of his throat. He felt her shiver under his fingers, which were resting lightly against the back of her knee now. He wanted so badly to let them travel up her thigh, to let his fingers dip between her legs and see if the soft, hidden slit echoed the desire in her dark gaze. But, this time around, he had promised himself that he would be more mature about things with her. She deserved better, he reminded himself. She was moving on like she was supposed to. Like he should be too.

We better get going, he said, smiling as his lips were only inches from hers. We're gonna miss the show if we don't.

She was stunned for a moment, she wanted him here and now, she sat astride his lap watching him turn his eyes away from hers and feeling his fingers still caressing her skin. But, she recovered quickly, swallowing and nodding as she rose and slowly stepped away. He stood and gently led her so that she was turning around with her back facing him. She had to suppress a shiver when she felt his left hand on her hip just above her ass, and the other on the zipper of her dress. He didn't draw out zipping her up as if he was trying to make the movement seductive, but it didn't matter. It just so happened that his hands anywhere near her body had that effect on her. And so did his voice.

You look great, he whispered into her ear, sweeping her dark curled hair away from her neck so that it was all resting over her shoulder as he did.

She pushed away the impulse to make him stay here with her, to lean back against him and wrap his arms around her body. She turned around, staring up into his eyes. Then she smiled and gave him a little wink.

Only took me seventeen minutes, she said. You thought I couldn't get ready in twenty, didn't ya?

He chuckled at that and smacked her lightly on her ass and kissed her on the cheek. Then he took her hand while she grabbed her purse, pulling them both out of the door and into the night ahead.

*****

It went better than she expected. After feeling his fingers on her skin she thought for sure she wouldn't be able to talk or think straight. It had been a long time since she'd seen him last. But, as always, the comfort and familiarity between them took center stage. As sexy as he was, as much as she wanted to run her tongue over his dark skin and stroke his smooth head while he was buried inside her, he was still the same seductive guy who was always in control that she loved talking too. The live quartet was great their style was similar to Randy’s and she got to meet them after the show because Randall had played a few gigs with them at the same clubs. A few drinks and a good meal later, and it was as if he'd never been gone. It was almost cruel how much she could miss him, and then he would show up and it would be as if he were always meant to be there and had never left; and inside she wished he never would.

He told her about how excited and nervous he and the guys were to be going over the record contract at the end of the week, about how ready they were to get into the studio and tighten up their demo material and write new songs. He and the lead singer, Alexander Kessel, were amazing lyricists and when the guys got together, the pieces tended to fall into place. She listened to him talk even as her eyes roamed over his face, down his neck, over those long, thick horn player’s fingers, and her thighs clenched. She was about three drinks down when she realized that she was going to fuck him tonight. If he could see it in her eyes he didn't let on. In fact, in some ways he seemed to her at least to be keeping his distance.

She wanted to ask him about it, but in a way sex was the one thing they didn't really discuss. Then they never needed to. When he got that look in his eyes, the one that said he wanted her and was going to take what he wanted, she always responded, no questions asked. After that week that started it all, sex was almost expected whenever they could get together. Now when she returned that look, or let her fingers linger over his, she found him pulling away. They weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, so they'd never officially broken up. They were friends, great friends, with something deeper under the surface that they indulged whenever they could. But, now she was starting to wonder if even that had changed. She'd been looking forward to him being inside of her since he called and if the vibe between them was any indication, there was a very real possibility that she could be spending the night alone.

She had to be wrong, though. Why would he want to take her out, just the two of them, if he wasn't looking forward to being with her afterward? They could have gone out with her sister and Ian, or the guys from the quartet if that was the case. She was a little bit more liberal with the drinks tonight, if only to combat the strange nervousness that was coming to the surface in his presence.

Randall could tell Natalie didn't know what to make of things with him. Usually, by this point in the night they would have already started making out or alluded to being alone later. It just became a natural sequence of events after they laid eyes on each other. All of the time apart would raise the heat between them until they somehow found themselves sweaty and exhausted from fucking the night away. But tonight he only much as kissed fondly. That was hard enough, but when she leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and her lips brushed just a little longer than necessary against his ear lobe, or her fingers stroked casually over his thigh, he found it damn near impossible to breathe. The only thing that kept him in line was reminding himself that she was seeing someone else now, and maybe now was the time to cut ties and let her have some sense of normalcy. If he could behave himself and be the adult, she would take his lead or so he hoped.

When they finally made it to her door that night, he felt like he was on his first date with her, both anticipating and dreading the possibility of a goodnight kiss. Should he kiss her? Should he hold back? She was talking about how much fun she had when she turned to him. There was silence for a moment, weighty and filled with her intent. She leaned against the door and stared up into his eyes with a soft smile on her lips. Her hand reached out and she laced her smaller fingers through his, trying to pull him closer to her. He started to move, to lean into the kiss waiting for him, but he stopped at the last minute. He didn't want to bring it up, he wanted to give in and give her what they both wanted. But the thoughts swimming through his head weren't that easy to shut off. He didn't think he could let this go any further until he figured out what was going on with her.

He inhaled, ignored the look of trepidation on her face and said, That guy you were with when I called. He watched her look away from him, obviously uncomfortable. What's the deal with him?

He's the reason you were so tense tonight, she replied quietly, releasing his hand.

He shrugged and leaned against the doorjamb he hoped she couldn’t sense his uncertainty.

Yeah; I mean, I know you said he was just a friend – He trailed off leaving the unfinished thought hanging in the air.

His brow furrowed when she snickered suddenly. She looked up at him apologetically and said, "Biz Markie...And you say he's just a..." she bit down on her lip. "Never mind."

He gave her a little laugh, momentarily his mind sidetracked to the Old School Rap reference and he wondered where she may have heard it.

I don't know about what's-his-name, but me, I don't tend to sleep over a girl's place, friend or not, unless there's a good reason. Know what I'm sayin', Natalie?

She turned away from him, nibbling even more persistently at her lip. He couldn't tell if it was because she was embarrassed, or if it was because she didn't like him referencing having sex with other girls, even in the hypothetical. He wondered if he was an asshole for not minding if it was either one of those reasons, or both.

"His name is Travis, she said suddenly. We slept together a couple of times but we aren't – weren't dating. And I haven't been with anyone else since you...I mean, except for Travis, but it wasn't anything serious with him, you know? We were kind of like friends with benefits, I guess. She sighed and groaned in exasperation. This is awkward, dude."

He snorted and rubbed at the back of his head. No shit, Nat. I mean to tell you the truth, I really don't want to hear about you and some other guy...but if you're moving onto something else, and I'm getting in the way, then I want to know about it.

She tilted her head to the side and stared up at him, not for the first time, as if he had lost his marbles.

You're not getting in the way of me and Travis, because me and Travis were never really a thing. He was a Nate guy and...And I tried something different to take care of my needs. Something other than serial monogamy, she said with an embarrassed shrug of her shoulders. It didn't work for me.

His brow furrowed at that last statement. He started to say something but she held up her hand.

"And don't you even think of comparing me and Travis to you and me. It's not even in the same stratosphere," she said bluntly.

Randall’s and Natalie’s relationship was based on trust and dominance; she enjoyed the control the had had over her and he enjoyed the trust she had in giving it to him.

I don't trust him the way I trust you. I can't talk to him about anything, and...no one can take care of me the way you can. No one makes me feel like you do.

He stared down at her, his lips parted in surprise.

At least not right now, anyway, she added. But we always said, we'd cross that bridge when we got to it, right? That no matter what we'd always be friends?

He almost laughed at how she'd just burst his bubble. With any other girl that would be as good as an admission of love, or at least a very serious form of like. But with Natalie it was just a statement of fact. It was true for him too, but he'd never said it in that way before, and he didn't think he could. In a way, little Natalie Lopez was braver than he ever was. Especially when it came to this strange little mess they'd gotten themselves into.

Yeah, we did say that, he said finally. But I don't want you to push someone away for me. Okay? 'Cause I couldn't stand it if I was getting in the way of you being happy.

Natalie stared up at him, trying not to let her face show all that she was thinking. How could she tell him that every day she grew more and more afraid – and certain – that the only thing keeping her from being happy, besides her shitty job, was knowing that he was the one that made her happy and she couldn't have him. He was the one she wanted, the one she'd always wanted. He owned her body and her soul. How could she tell him that she'd be willing to wait as long as he needed her to, that he could tour the world twenty times over and she would be able to get through it for him. And only him; she couldn’t say what she felt out loud so she hoped he understood.

She just couldn't say what she feeling deep within her being. She couldn't risk scaring him away, forcing him to try and prove to her that she was wrong, young, and naïve. No, this was the way things had to stay, at least until he came to his senses. She could be patient. And if by some strange stroke of fate, he was right, and there was someone out there that was better for her, then she would embrace him with arms wide open. In the meantime, she would save her arms for her what she felt she needed, and her need now was this Black man that stood before her named Randall, she would live for times like this when she could reach up to touch his face, and watch his eyes flicker with pleasure at her touch.

Okay, he said with a small nod. It was all the concession he could muster.

She pulled him towards her, and this time he didn't pull back. He leaned down and she tilted her face to receive his kiss. Her lips were soft against his, teasing and tender. His lips pressed back harder against hers, his fingers coming up to caress the side of her face, to play through the soft curls of her ponytail. When she finally pulled away, a smile was on her face, and soon he joined her. There was still something in his eyes, an uneasiness that she could feel. Maybe he was a little more upset about Travis than he'd let on. She wished he'd never found out about him, even as a part of her felt okay with the fact that he knew there were others out there that wanted her. Did she want him to be jealous, or did she want him to forget about it, and be sure that it was only him she wanted? It was a confusing train of thought, and the last thing she needed was more confusion. She knew just the way to cure the ailment of thinking too much.

So... she said, sliding her hand down his chest, down his stomach. You want to come in?

He licked his lips and felt the first stirrings of arousal in his jeans. Hell yeah, he wanted to go in. But what about all that shit he started telling himself all throughout the night about giving her space now. What about being the grown up for a change?

Yeah, what about it? He thought.

Natalie didn't want Travis; she wanted Randall. It was plain as day. It was in the way her eyes roved over his body; in the way she licked her lips. It was in the way she leaned into him and waited for him to say that he did want to come inside her place, inside her body. Of course he hated the idea of her being with someone else. But he wasn't going to be a hypocrite, not when he'd fucked his fair share of girls on the road. He wasn't hurting Natalie. While she belonged solely to him when they were together she was not his girlfriend. She'd said so herself as many times as he'd said he didn't want to use or hurt her. Looking down at her expectant face and imagining plunging inside of her were making him lose sight of his chivalrous side with a quickness. Her fingers were tickling the outline of his growing cock, they could both feel it growing in her hand and that little smirk on her lips told him that she was enjoying watching him squirm. He leaned into her, bracing one arm on the door and casting her face in the shadow of his larger body.

Do you want me to come in?

Their game was about to begin; Natalie missed this about him most; the control that he had over pleasure and as she looked up at him as he stood with his hand against her door her frame. She needed to be controlled by this man now more than ever.

She giggled lightly, a side effect of the alcohol and his silly question. She nodded and hooked a finger in a belt loop of his jeans so that she could pull his hips closer to hers. She was lifting her lips up to his, expecting his mouth to cover hers again. But he stopped the kiss just before he touched his lips to hers, the soft flesh of his mouth manly whispering over hers, making her hungry for more. Randall was going to make her beg for him to be inside her.

Her eyes darkened and her lips parted in surprise when he gripped her chin and lifted it. His eyes were boring into hers, that deep chocolate brown of intent capturing her gaze only to sweep across her waiting mouth.

Seems like my little school girl may have forgotten some things since I've been gone, do you need me to remind you little girl? Like speaking up when I ask you a question, he said sternly, while giving her and her vibrating pussy fair warning when he called her his whore what they were in for.

He felt her shiver against him when his tongue darted out to lick at her upper lip. Her tongue just barely caught the tip of his before it disappeared back into his mouth.

I asked if you wanted me to come in. That means you say...?

She smiled slyly and said, Please Daddy. I want you to come in and use me. Fuck me like you always do.

His smile matched hers and his eyes were on her lips. He pressed his body against hers so that her back was flat against the door. And then what do you want me to do?

What do you think I want, Randy? she asked defiantly using the name that she called him whenever she was in the throes of pleasure. To emphasize her rhetorical question she slid her hand between their fused bodies and firmly cupped her hand around his denim-caged cock. She found the bulging tip and squeezed slightly. His answering smile was both sinister and utterly delicious.

I'm going to have to remind you how to behave, aren't I?

Looks like, she whispered. Her heart was stuttering in her chest, and she could feel his heartbeat as well. He pumped his hips hard into her hand and she squeezed him even harder, just the way he liked. He groaned, closing his eyes and turning his head to the side for a second to collect himself. When he turned back to her, those deep brown eyes twinkled with mischief, his smile was almost sweet. And to her body's distinct pleasure, his words were harsh and husky.

Well, what the fuck are you waiting for, Natalie? he asked. Open the door.

She grinned and turned her back to him so she could unlock her door with shaking hands. His breath was on her neck, his fingers already sliding under her dress to rub her damp panties from behind, his palm was pressed against her mound and his finger was stroking her labia; his action was driving her crazy it was beyond distraction.

And to think she'd doubted that they would end up fucking tonight.

As soon as the door cracked open, he pushed it, gripped the back of her neck with the other hand and ushered her quickly inside. The door slammed closed behind him and he leaned his back against it, holding her in place against his body. His other hand swept around her hip, the scrunching sound of fabric filling his ears as he lifted the front of her dress. Slowly, he let the fingers around her neck slip around until they were cupping the front of her throat and then lifting her chin. The back of her head was pressed against his shoulder, her ass wiggling against his crotch. His fingers were toying with the lace covering her wet pussy, teasing the flesh into a relentless pulsing heat.

Now, where were we? he asked against her ear, nipping at her piercing-laden lobe with his teeth. He smiled at her gasp of pleasure when he squeezed his hand open and closed it over the heat between her legs. Oh, I remember. You were getting ready to tell me what you want me to do to you. Weren't you, sweetheart?

Having him hold her neck like this kept her from nodding so that she had no choice but to speak. But, truthfully, his reason for holding her this way had nothing to do with forcing her to speak. He knew from experience that she just loved the feel of his long thick fingers wrapped around her throat, knowing that he could squeeze tighter, hold harder, but that he would never hurt her while he made her submit to him.

Y-yes, she whimpered when he circled his fingers rapidly over her lace covered pussy.

So let's hear it. What do you want me to do?

I want you to fuck your dirty Puerto Rican whore. I want you to make me come with your hard Black cock. She said the words clearly, deliberately, knowing that they would vibrate straight through his still contained cock. She knew he loved when she called herself, his whore...almost as much as he loved making her earn the title for hours on end.

He slipped his fingers inside her panties and the feeling of his fingertips circling her clit made her knees buckle. She swallowed hard and felt her throat working against the constraints of his grip. Trapped by pleasure, and held captive by those strong hands. That's what she wanted. That's what she needed.

Randy... faster, she moaned, cupping the back of his hand with hers. She