Fly on the Wall (32 page)

The shower steamed up when he stood behind me and insisted on washing my back, my breasts, and my already washed wet pussy. I allowed him full access. However, after a few wipes, he forgot all about the towel and caressed me with his hands. “Ooh,” I moaned, and it encouraged him to rub a little harder, a tad bit faster, and just a smidgen deeper.

Theo enjoyed the systematic way the warm water fell from my stomach to my pussy, mixed with my juices, and then slid onto his fingers. His dick began to rise as the warmth of my pussy melted onto his fingertips. He hardened and the tip of his stick turned a pretty shade of brownish pink. It whispered,
Taste me
. And as though I could draw nectar from it, I dropped to my knees and dropped my jaws. I didn't suck him right away, but allowed him to penetrate my mouth over and over again at his own pace.

Sure, as I tasted him I thought about Angela's mouth once being there, but I used the experience as therapy. If you truly want to get over something, sometimes you have to force yourself to relive it. So I did, and I had to do it with the knowledge that regardless of who had climbed the mountain before me, I was the first one to reach the summit and plant a flag.

I started sucking him, pulling every sexual thought he'd had that week right out of the tip of his dick and into me. He grew thick, thicker, and then I tasted trickles of his excitement. Over a period of five minutes, the fleshy feel of my moist tongue, lips, and meaty cheeks satisfied him so much that he couldn't hold back. “Oh, shit.” He pushed down on my head until the very tip of his dick ran past my tonsils.

He was at his peak, and I knew to move quickly. Instead of racing to the bedroom, I bent over the toilet and welcomed him to pleasure me from behind. Theo stroked his dick with his wet hand and guided it into my waiting pot of honey. “Oh, yes,” we said simultaneously. I felt like singing that Mase song,
Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back.

I ground my pussy in small circles, and Theo pulled all the way out and rubbed and beat my clit with his tool, then plunged back within me. He did this several times, knowing just how crazy it made me.

“Damn, I've missed you, Paige,” he said and blasted into me over and over for about four minutes before he was shooting into me. Afterward, we completed our showers like zombies and returned to the room. With his back up against the headboard, I cuddled next to him.

“I've missed you so much.”

“Really?” He smiled. “Paige, you have no clue what I've been going through these last two months.” He kissed my forehead. “I have a few questions to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“Are you . . . ?” He thought for a second and then reworded his question. “Will you please come to my graduation?”

“Yes, of course.” I smiled. “Yes.”

“Great. Now, what about taking me to the airport when I leave for some interviews next month?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” I joked. “Not like I have a job or anything.”

“Okay, well, since you don't have nothing to do . . .”

“Anything,” I corrected him, just like old times. “Well, since you don't have
anything
to do.”

“Be quiet.” He smiled and covered my mouth. “Since you ain't got shit else to do, how about accompanying me to the draft?”

“Me?” I was astonished.

“Yeah, you.” That bright white smile of his was back. “Will you?”

“What will I wear?” It was the question any woman would ask after being asked to joined the assumed NBA number one draft pick at the actual draft.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yes, yes.” I was excited. “Yes, I'll go.”

“Cool.” He grabbed my hand and continued. “Now, what about when I get my first check from the NBA? Will you go house shopping with me?”

“Oh my God.” My right hand clenched my heart. “Yes, I'll be honored to help you select your first home.”

Theo then became serious. “Will you do me the honor of living there with me?”

His question knocked the wind out of me. “You want me to—?” I stopped in mid-sentence. I couldn't believe that he wanted to share his dreams with me. And then came the tears. “Yes.” He was truly amazing.

He left the bed to get me some tissues, and as he handed them to me, he said, “Well, since I got you on a roll, answering ‘yes' to everything . . .” I wiped the tears from my eyes, and when I could see clearly again, he was on his knees next to the bed. He had a Kleenex tissue neatly folded and encircled by a one-carat princess cut platinum diamond ring.

“Will you marry me?”

All I could think was,
Are you serious? Are you serious? Are you serious?
but I couldn't even say it. I was shaking and smiling all at the same time.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” I finally let it out, and he slipped the ring on my finger. “Oh my God, Theo! Oh my God.”

“I love you, Paige.” He got back in bed. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I never want there to be another day where we don't talk, kiss, hug, or make love. You are second nature to me, like breathing. I cannot live without you.”

“I love you.” I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his lips.

After the excitement of the moment minimized and I could breathe again, I stared at him. “Now I have a few questions to ask you.”

“Shoot.” He pulled me closer to him.

“You hungry?” I asked.

“All the time.” He rubbed his stomach.

“You've missed me?”

“You know that.”

“Have you thought about me every day?”

He laughed. “Yes.”

I looked at him and squinted a little. “You want to live with me?”

“Of course. I just asked
you
that.”

“You want to marry me, huh?”

He said, “I sure do.”

“Do you want to have children some day?”

“Yeah.” He kissed my shoulder. “A whole basketball team.”

“Well,” I grabbed his left hand and placed it on my stomach, “you'll have your first player in seven months.”

“Yeah!” He quickly realized what I was saying and sat up. “Yeah?” he screamed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, you're going to be a coach.”

“Oh my God.” He picked me up and sat me on his lap. “I love you.” Then he bent to kiss my stomach. “And I love
you
too.”

Urban Books, LLC
78 East Industry Court
Deer Park, NY 11729

copyright © 2006 Trista Russell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-6016-2145-0

 

 

 

 

Distributed by Kensington Corp.
Submit Wholesale Orders to:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
C/O Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Attention: Order Processing
405 Murray Hill Parkway
East Rutherford, NJ 07073-2316
Phone: 1-800-526-0275
Fax: 1-800-227-9604