BOMAW Vol. 10-12 (94 page)

"Why is that? Why do you have to prepare yourself?" He asked.

"God, Jer'miah - you've met him on a couple of occasions, with your intelligence and insight, I think that would be obvious." She returned, looking from rinsing and stacking the dishes back to him.

He gave a mild grunt, cleaning his stove and putting seasonings and sauces away, and with the turn of his head to her, standing back to back as they were, "Let's get something clear here okay?" He asked over his shoulder; looking over hers, Deidre nodded. "I don't want to be constantly reminded of him or compared to him. Furthermore, you need to stop being wary of him. You're divorced and he has no authority or rights over you; even with what's coming up. So when you and I are together, leave him out of this, unless it's absolutely necessary that he be brought up. You understand where I'm coming from?"

With large, soulful eyes, she nodded, "Okay, Jer'miah." and turned back to finishing the dishes, there weren't many, she suddenly didn't want to move form the sink. She fell quiet.

He'd been wiping up the counter last, and came back to the sink to rinse his clothe, where she stood. She was still, with her hands hanging in the soapy water, playing with the suds. He sighed, watching her still profile, "Hey, I didn't mean to spoil the mood."

"Neither did I." She returned.

He reached up moving her smooth, blonde silk back from hanging to obscure her face, tucking a portion of it behind her ear. Deidre stood with her heart going crazy, afraid to hope where this might lead. She wanted him. Had in fact wanted him for sometime now. He had been on her mind constantly. Not a moment went by during the day that she didn't think of him, hoping that he would drop by her house, or call her. Hoping that they could move on in this thing that was happening between them. For a while now, she'd been sure of her feelings for him, but he battled with his inner demons about them. Knowing this, she had not pushed, would not pressure him. She left him to lead the way as to where exactly they were going.

"Your fingers are going to be nothing but prunes you don't take them out of that dishwater." His voice rumbled low beside her. He reached over, into the sink and pulled the stopper, draining the dish water. Deidre's eyes lifted to look at him. Their eyes met, his held something that made her stomach knot up. He reached beside him for the dish clothe, dried his hands, and then took her hands and gently dried them. As he did, he started out saying, "I need to make a confession to you."

"A confession?" She asked, barely able to breathe with his hands, much bigger than her own, so dark, well manicured, gently drying hers. Their contrast was absolute. He was a nice dark brown and she was, medium fair. Her hands, red from the over-warm dish water.

"Yes, you see - I've always known, where you were, how to find you, for quite some years now. Deidre, I hated your father. As a young man, a kid, I used to ride my bike by Wherrington manor, reminding myself of my pledge to ruin the Wherringtons and own that place one day. A few times I would be there, and the gates would open and out came the limo with Oscar T. in it. I would ride my bike behind him as if I could catch him, because I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to know, that I hated him and that I was out to get him. Years later, that day, that morning, that I ran into you, when we first met again - was no accident. I'd planned to get to you, even - use you - to get what I wanted - to get to them. Because - well - I thought that my mother, that we, my brother and I - or people like us, were the only victims of his greed and depravity. Turns out, that wasn't entirely so. I think, you need to know that, before this goes-..."

He didn't get to finish. One moment he had been speaking, and the next, Deidre had taken hold of his head and pulled it to her, attaching her mouth to his, kissing him. She could resist it no longer. He wasn't saying anything to her that she hadn't already figured out on her own. In fact, her plan, had been to try and make him fall for her, and then the shooting. Almost dying did many things to her. One thing, not to take tomorrow for granted. She was going to live her life for her, for what she needed, what she wanted. She was going to live her life for what made her feel good. Shawn had moved on. While she knew herself imperfect, having made mistakes in her first marriage, she had loved him. But she had needed to realize, if you don't learn to move on, life will move on without you. This man, Jeremiah Franklin, yes, black, yes, after her family, to ruin them even. So beit. In her eyes, they deserved whatever they got - they were not loyal to her, she would not die by their hands being loyal to them! Now, to hell with them, to hell with them all! They were not her problem. Her problem was this amazingly fine, find and getting him to take her to bed. Her passion was barely manageable to have him so close, to be alone as they were, at his place. Her body was alert, alive and aware that a full grown, red blooded man stood before her. A beautiful man. While she would admit it to no one, she was attracted to their differences. He was one man that had what it took, to send her system racing, her erogenous zones tingling, in a jittery sensation she could not ignore.

When his long strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her tighter against him, Deidre thought she might explode into tiny pieces with what shot through her. He deepened the kiss, his soft full lips covering her, sucking at them. His firm tongue invaded her mouth and turned her into mush. Deidre whimpered. He pulled away for just a split second, to ask, "You sure?"

Her mind flashed the thought, 'What a stupid question for a intelligent, successful hunk to ask!' Reaching for his belt buckle and undoing it with shaky hands answered that question. Wasting no time, she opened his pants, unable to miss the dark, swollen snake within, she pulled it free, went weak in the knees from the size of it and dropped to her knees. As if addicted to dark chocolate, she opened wide and brought the massive head into her mouth.

Jeremiah grabbed hold of the cabinets beside him, his head rolling back, his eyes following suit while she laved upon him all the adoration his heart and cock could take. Her hands busy with rubbing, squeezing, including all the parts to his package. "Oh hell, you done started some shit now!" The lawyer, the education, the intellect all fell away. "Shit that feels good! Ahhh - damn! Aaaah yeah, - hell yeah!" He gasped, he could feel himself stirring from within. It had been a while. By the time she'd come into his life, his focus had been so on her, on work and then the shooting, his sex life had gone out the window. This - was right on time.

"Sssss, nuff of that! Come here, let's take this in the room, come on, I got what you need." He pulled her to feet. Her face was alight and ravaged by a need that could not be mistaken. He tried to walk off, but she grabbed him to her, kissing his mouth, his face, chin and neck; her heart pounding like mad as they made slow jerky progress towards his room. Hands touching everywhere, clothes dropping off on the way. In the hall, right before his room, he stood naked, she stood with just her panties on. "Get these off." He grabbed them, pushing them down her incredible shapely legs, exposing her well trimmed blonde thatch of pubic hair, moist from her passion. He couldn't resist, like a magnet, the desirable pink sight drew his long fingers to stroke her wet heat. Deidre whimpered, crying out and fell against the wall, her legs spread so he could rub her all the more, get deeper into it. "Ssss yeah, nice and pretty and pink." He murmured now on his knees, he leaned forward and gave her a taste. Once his tongue encountered her, he couldn't stop.

"Oh - oh - oh - oh ohhh Jer' - Jer'miah - oooh yeah." She slid further down the wall, her thighs going further and further apart as she went, until he brought her down onto the floor and carried on, ravenously going at her. His large, thick tongue making her crazy. She began bucking against his mouth out of control and then she came, so deep and shattering she was sobbing from the unrelenting orgasm. Jeremiah kissed up her body, and then to his knees, he grabbed her up, lifted her like she was nothing, got to his feet and took her to his bed. Laid her on top of his spread and began hungrily sucking over her sensitive body as she cried and stroked him. Running her fingers through his soft low cut afro, the texture of it on her finger tips adding to her pleasure. Tears ran from her eyes as he sucked at her pink nipples, standing like begging peaks for his attention, which he readily gave. He lay between her thighs now and lifted up onto his knees pushing her thighs up and apart, grabbing his incredible thick length, rubbing the head against her moist, throbbing folds. As he rubbed it against her, he realized he needed to get a condom on.

"Damn! I need a condom!" He gasped, wanting to enter her, but dare not without protection. He wasn't worried about disease, after all, he'd already gone down on her, but a baby, was not in the plan right now, not now. He slid her back over the surface of his bed so she could reach his night stand. "Go in that top drawer, get me a condom out!" He ordered, still touching her, rubbing her, stimulating her until she was delirious, barely understanding him, let alone able to hear. He had to repeat it, twice before she knew what he wanted. Functioning with uncoordinated movements she was able to reach for the drawer, pull it out and retrieve his condom. She opened it for him, she didn't want him to stop for a moment from doing what he was doing to her. Once he slipped it on, her heart took off in tempo because she knew that he would be going into her next, and sure enough, he did.

She cried out. The size of him made her hold her breath and pay attention. While he was careful, he intended to go all the way, but before he did, he laid down upon her, looking down into her face, watching her eyes, as he pushed, his hips started a rolling, rhythmic motion as he slowly worked her to take the rest of him. The wonderful feel of him moving deeper into her made Deidre's head shake rapidly side to side. He leaned heavy into her body using both hands to pull her thighs up higher, wider at the same time that he moved and worked into her, his hands running down her thighs to grasp her derriere.

"Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Oh yea-ah! Yea-ah!"

"You liken that?"

"Yes!" She answered right away, gasping from the shock of what it felt like to have so much of a man deep inside your body. It was just starting to get a bit uncomfortable, but she moved to adjust herself, wanting to take every bit that he put in her. "Oh oh!" She cried out, couldn't help it. He slowed it down but kept his motion, moving still deeper by small degree, kissing her neck, nipping at her ear, along her jaw line, he rolled and rubbed against her, while his long fingers squeezed her cheeks. Deidre held onto him, her breasts crushed against his chest, her hands running along his arms. She knew without a doubt, that she was in love with this amazing black man. She would give him anything, the world, or ... if he wanted it - maybe - Wherrington manor and a nice big chunk of the family business, enough to make them all squirm in shocked agony. After all, for once, not even her ex could be compared to what he was doing to her right then and there. Not a moment from her past pleasures with Shawn, could she remember to compare.

He started kissing her again, his tongue in her mouth; she sucked his tongue as her lower region suck in the long thick organ, his pelvis rolling like the smooth waves of an ocean with the fully erect penis gliding in and out of her, making her take it; because he had his stroke on, plunging deep like a mighty whale and soon, he'd be coming up about to blow. His motion, movement, rocking her made the bed move as she could not help herself crying out, "OH FUCK! OW! Oh! Oh God! Oh - Jer'miah!" She was getting every bit of it as her body made her fully aware, but then, something shot through her just suddenly, and to her shock she was climaxing once more, so that she screamed out from it the same time that he started grunting out, the sound of his pleasure getting louder and louder until finally, he stiffened, gnashing his teeth, shaking his head, his body quaked from the orgasm. Finally, gasping, he fell gently on top of her, done. They lay quiet a few moments, until he slowly started lifting up, bringing his hands up to palm her blonde head, looking into her eyes. He was going rapidly soft, yet, still very much inside of her. Her lovely eyes stared up at him, her lashes spiky from tears. "You okay?" He asked, his voice full of compassion.

"I'm - I'm in love with you Jer'miah ... I'm in love with you." She turned red as soon as the words left her lips. Because she knew, that to all from her world, they would say that she'd just done a very foolish thing. Telling a black man that you loved him, when you were a billionairess. She turned her face away as if ashamed of being so open and honest. He turned it back, "Don't hide from me."

She couldn't look at him, there was no return of, I love you from him. While she hadn't expected that he would, it still hurt like hell that he hadn't. "I shouldn't have said that, I think. Oh well," She looked up at him, sadly, "You have me, where you really - want me. One would say, that I'm - truly - fucked, huh?"

"Stop saying stuff like that, that's not you."

"But it's true. You're not in love with me, I can see that you're not."

"No, that's not what you see. I'm just - a very careful man, that's all. I've never told any woman, that I love her. But that doesn't mean that I don't feel deeply." He tried to explain.

Deidre was starting to feel worse by the moment, "Please, get off of me."

"Why? Am I too heavy? Or - because I didn't say what you want, back?"

"Get off of me." She repeated, refusing to confirm.

"I didn't say, that I didn't love you."

"Same thing." She replied quickly, unable to look at him, staring off in the other direction, realizing that she was back to comparing him and Shawn again. In this, they were the same, Shawn hadn't loved her either. He'd said he did, that he loved her. But it had always been an off handed, quickly spoken, "Love ya." - as if their close ties were anything else, than him being her husband and she, his wife. It was as if he loved her out of duty, as if he'd made up his mind that he would. He would throw her a kiss with a wink and a nod - when they were in between fights and enjoying each other. She thought back and tried to remember one time when he'd ever grabbed her, held her and hugged her as if he could not let her go. His hugs were brief, a quick tight squeeze and then he was off to do, or to finish whatever he might have been in the middle of and she would be - dismissed.