Hey folks, I had three comments—two from February and one from March—that somehow got lost in my site, but I had a notification of new comments and couldn’t find them, so I had to search for them. Staci, CJ, and Carolina—I hope you guys didn’t think I was ignoring your comments. WordPress just ate them up and I couldn’t see them until today.
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I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the saga continues…
Chapter 77—Home Is Where The Heart Is
It’s the middle of the night and I don’t recognize the number or the area code. I’m never afraid to answer strange calls. In my line of work, it’s usually more hazardous not to answer an unknown call.
“Yehs, eez dees Chatles? Davenpolt?” I recognize the accent, but not the voice. It’s thicker, much thicker than hers, but I know where it’s from. I sit straight up.
“Yes, who is this?” I ask, my voice earnest.
“You don knoh meh,” she says. “I wuhk wit Keti. Shi’s my ftiend. Shi been sick. Vety sick. Shi won let nobody cahl you, tell you waht wrong. Shi won eat. Shi cont eat. E’ry time she try, her stomach jes give it up.” I throw my legs off the edge of the bed.
“Who are you?” I ask. “How did you get my number? Where’s Keri now?”
“Mah nem Tawni,” she answers. “I tek her phone when shi not lookin’. I hear about Chatles Davenpolt, but I no find Chatles Davenport. I find ‘Choonks.’ I call, and you Chatles Davenpolt. Shi sick, Chatles. Shi vety sick.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask, trying to keep the panic down in my voice “Does she have a virus? Has she seen a doctor? Does she still have that damn cold?”
“Shi nevah hah no cold!” Tawni says, flustered. “The doctoh no hep heh! Shi sick in heh hed and in heh haht! Soul sick! Shi lose weight like dah man put bad ju ju. Shi no wuhk. Shi no get owt de bed. Shi sleep ahl de time. Shi sleep shi sleep shi sleep till one deh shi sleep shi nawt wake up noh moh!”
What? I’m out of the bed now. Why didn’t Keri tell me that she was this sick, and why is she this sick? Did she contract something here in the States?
“What did the doctor say?” I ask, sliding into my pants.
“He noh say nuhtin’,” she says. “He tell heh get sum rest and food, dat nuhtin’ wrong with her, but sumtin is wrong! Shi no play wit da kids, no teach dem, no tahk to dem, no care no moh!”
“I talk to her every day,” I tell her. “She sounds a little tired, but nothing like this!”
“Shi only sond bettah for yuh,” her voice softens. “Shi die, Choonks… shi die.”
I cover my mouth. Keri is dying. Tawni knows. She can see if no one else can. I’m usually so happy just to hear her voice that I can’t hear that she’s dying.
“I…” I’m at a loss for words. “I need you to tell me everything. Were you there when she got off the plane? When she returned from America?”
“Shi wuz heppy to be ‘ome,” Tawni says. “Shi heppy to see heh kids and shi play wit dem, but only foh a little while. A few dez den shi sick. Shi stop eaten’ and sleepen’ an den shi sleep awl deh time. I ask, ‘Keti, you hav belly?’ Shi say ‘noh!’”
“Have belly?” I ask.
“Yez, hav belly… deh breed… dah baby!”
“Oh!” She was asking if Keri was pregnant.
“Dah doctoh say shi no breed, but shi sleep. Shi look bad. Shi crawny and shi look like Dett!”
That’s pretty damn bad. She’s been gone for two months and all this time, she’s been suffering and hasn’t told me anything.
“You’re sure it’s not a virus or anything?” I ask Tawni.
“Dah doctor seh shi nawt sick… shi just tiyed or sumtin’.” I sigh. What the fuck.
“Is this your number, Tawni?” I ask.
“Keep me posted, please. I… I gotta figure some things out… and thank you for calling. I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay, Chatles, I weel,” and she ends the call. I want to throw this fucking phone across the room.
“Fuck!” I bite out. I’m only just now getting to where I don’t think about her every goddamn moment of every day; only just able to maybe sleep two nights out of seven without her next to me and not even the entire night; only just getting to the point where I can function without hearing her sweet voice in my ear, touching her soft skin, tasting her lips…
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” and now this! Goddammit, somebody up there hates me. I scrub my hands over my face. I had that accident and she was here in a minute. She had secured a three-month visa and she was by my side in no time—no questions asked. Across oceans and continents, she was here… but I just got back to work. The babies are here. I can’t shirk my responsibilities… but Keri…
I get fully dressed, put on my coat and decide to take a walk around the grounds, hoping the fresh air will help clear my head. What do I do? First and foremost, I have to know what’s wrong with her. The doctors are saying that she’s fine, but she won’t get out of bed, she won’t eat, and she’s sleeping all the time. When I talk to her, she sounds fine—maybe a little tired, but that’s all. She didn’t tell me that she wasn’t working. She gave me no indication at all that anything was wrong. My mind is racing a million miles a minute.
How did she ever find out that I had the accident… did Jay tell her?
She’s on my emergency contacts list now, but am I on hers?
Tawni said she basically had to hijack her phone to find me, and my name isn’t in there, just my pet name. If something really goes wrong with her, how would I know?
Just how bad off is she if her friend felt the need to invade her privacy to call some guy in the states that she doesn’t even know to tell him that Keri is sick?
The speculation is killing me. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I have to know what’s going on with her, I have to. If something happens to her… if she’s really sick and I don’t do anything…
But then there’s my job and my responsibilities to Ana and the babies. I love them very much and I don’t trust their safety to anyone else. They’re as important to me as my blood family… more important than some of them—one in particular. I can’t desert them now.
I walk around the grounds until the sun comes up. I don’t know how many times I’ve lapped the property, but apparently enough times for one of the snitches in the guard’s booth to alert Jay that I was up pacing all night.
“What’s going on, man?” he asks, walking up to me as I get back around to the mudroom.
“Nothing,” I say, not quite sure that I want to share what’s happening.
“Something’s going on,” he says. “Yancy says you’ve been walking around the estate for at least the last three hours and probably more. You want to tell me what’s up?”
“It’s personal, Jay,” I tell him. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” I wouldn’t know what to say anyway. I don’t even know what to do right now.
“Is it your family?” he presses. I think about the question.
“Kind of. You could say that.”
“That asshole Joe?” he keeps digging.
“Jay, please stop digging. I really can’t talk about this right now.” He twists his lips. I know he’s feeling a combination of things. He’s my boss and my friend and I won’t tell him what’s going on.
“Fine, but you’re grounded today.” I spin around on him.
“What?” I ask appalled. “You’re grounding me because I won’t tell you what’s happening in my personal life?” I’m suddenly angry.
“You know me better than that,” he says impassively. “Because of who you are—who we are, you’re going to tell me what’s going on sooner or later. You’re grounded because you’re obviously distracted. Whatever this is, it’s got all your mind and concentration. You’ve walked these grounds for several hours and that’s going to hit you in a while. You’re going to be tired, cold, and out of focus. Take a sick day and get some rest. Once you’ve done that, decide what you’re going to do about whatever this is. If after an entire night of walking around in the cold, you still haven’t come to a decision, you need to get some sleep and look at it with fresh eyes.”
Part of me resents him for grounding me today. The other part of me knows that he’s right. I just nod and go back to my apartment.
Trying to sleep did no good. I just lay there for hours and look at the ceiling, thinking of Keri and the reasons that Jay grounded me today. I’m no good to Ana or the babies if my mind is full of Keri. Hell, it’s been full of Keri all this time, but this is different. She was just away and I missed her, not sick with some unknown ailment that may be killing her slowly. I need some advice fast, and I know just who to ask.
“What do you mean you don’t know what’s wrong with her?” Christian asks me as I’m sitting in his den.
“I mean I don’t know what’s wrong,” I tell him. “I talk to her every day. She does sound a little tired, but nothing else. She got a cold or some kind of virus when she first got back to Anguilla, but we all chalked it up to the sudden change in climate, including the doctors. But according to this Tawni person, she never really got any better. Tawni says that she only sounds better on the phone when we talk, but she won’t eat and all she does is sleep.”
Christian frowns and stands from the sofa, pacing around the room. We’ve been talking for quite some time as I lay all the details of my dilemma out for him.
“Do you remember last year when Butterfly and I took that trip to Napa? The Wine Train?” he asks. I laugh.
“Yeah,” I reply. “You sent me to get that damn lock.” He nods.
“While we were there, we happened upon a wedding—on the deck outside of the hotel. The bride and groom saw us dancing to their music and invited us to join them. He told me the story of how they met, classic rich girl/poor boy story. Odds were obviously against them and they broke up. He moved away, but he returned five years later after he made something of himself. He found her still with her family, a shell of her former self… ailing, thin, and feeble. He took her away from her uncaring family and it took him six months to nurse her back to health. He married her two months after that. She was wasting away from a broken heart, from not being able to be with the man that she loved and being around a family who didn’t care.”
Keri’s heart can’t be broken. I love her too much. I want her with me. I begged her to stay.
“You’ve been in my employ since Butterfly and I have been together. Remember the tie incident? Ana ended up wine-drunk and almost strangled herself with my Andersen & Sheppard? Remember the subsequent week when I ended up in the hospital after a bourbon diet? Remember when Ana was brought to the hospital after the kidnapping and the four-day hunger strike?”
Fuck, he’s scaring the shit out of me right now.
“When Ana thought she wouldn’t see me again, that’s what she did. The mind is a powerful thing, Chuck. She closed her eyes, she went to sleep, and she met me in her dreams. When she woke up and I wasn’t there and she was still chained to that bed, she went back to sleep.” Oh, my God.
“This can’t be what Keri’s doing. She knows we’ll see each other again. We talk every day…”
“Keri’s been gone for two months. Someone that you don’t even know called you to tell you just how bad off she is without Keri’s permission. You talk to her every day and she wouldn’t tell you and you didn’t pick up on it. Something is not right… very not right in the worst way and she needs help. I can’t tell you what decisions to make when it comes down to your life and your future, but I can and will tell you this. You have to go down there and see her for yourself. You have to go, Chuck; there’s no question.”
I sigh heavily. I know that I have to go, but…
“Ana,” I say. “The babies… I just got back to work. They’re my responsibility.” Christian nods.
“Yes, it’ll take two people to make one of you, and the twins’ guards are supposed to be starting soon since Butterfly wants to take a chance on taking them in public next week. We’ll do fine. I hope it’s your choice to come back, but we’ll all understand if you don’t. Right now, you need to go to her.” I nod reluctantly.
“I’ll book a flight,” I say.
“You’ll do no such thing. You’ll take the jet,” Christian corrects.
“I can probably book a flight faster than you can get the jet ready,” I protest.
“Like hell you can,” he retorts.
He’s right, of course. Seventeen hours later, I’m landing in St. Marteen when the soonest commercial flight would have gotten me here more than a day later. I take the ferry to Anguilla and begin to lament over how I would figure out who Tawni is. I look around at the faces on the peer and see a sign with my name… Charles Davenport.
That has to be Tawni.
I walk over to her and she looks right through me, somewhat perturbed that I’m standing in front of her blocking her view.
“Tawni?” I ask, wondering why she won’t acknowledge my presence. She looks at me a bit annoyed, then does a double-take, annoyance morphing to astonishment.
“Chatles?” she says in clear disbelief. I nod, uncertainly. She’s silent for a moment, then says, “You white.” Wha…?
“She… didn’t tell you?” I say, a bit dismayed.
“Noh,” Tawni answers, still dumbfounded.
“Is that a problem?” I ask. She throws a look over her shoulder to the man sneering at me like he could kill me with his bare hands, and I know immediately that it is a problem.
“Come,” she says, softly. “I tek you to Keti.” I fall in step behind her and this guy, who I don’t know and don’t trust, attempts to fall in step behind me. I freeze and turn around to face him.
“And you are?” I ask, looking down into his face. He’s got a lot of hair and it’s a bit distracting, but I focus on his angry, piercing eyes, trying to ascertain the level of threat he’ll be to me—because he’s clearly a threat.
“Nun ohf yoh cunsun!” he shoots with disdain.
“I beg to differ,” I retort. “It’s completely my concern if you think you’re going to be walking behind me.” We square off for several moments, neither of us backing down to the other.
“Eash nuh,” Tawni says, stepping between us, “ahl fruits ripe.”
“Yack!” he hisses before spitting on the ground. “Stinking fassyhole!” I smirk and lean into him over Tawni’s shoulder.
“Don you bruck out, now bredda, or I put you down, seen?” I may not imitate his accent well, but I have Keri’s to perfection. He narrows his eyes at me as Tawni pulls my arm ushering me towards the street and a parked vehicle there.
The ride is short to what I discover is an apartment shared by Tawni and Keri. It’s small, but clean and comfortable and right by the water. Then again, everything in Anguilla is right by the water. I’m led through the small, but tidy apartment to a rather large, modestly furnished bedroom. There’s a beautiful balcony and the doors are open, allowing a breeze to bellow in through the burgundy sheers. Near the far side of a pretty large bed is a very small person…
That can’t be Keri… that can’t be my beautiful, voluptuous Island Girl…
I quietly drop my bags on the floor and go over to the bed. Her skin is dull—dusty-looking. Her eyes are sunk into her face. Although she’s asleep, she looks utterly exhausted and troubled… so troubled. I squat down to the side of her bed and take a good look at her face. She looks sickly and feeble, like some horrible disease has taken hold of her and won’t let go. I squat down next to her and gaze at her face for long moments, trying to figure out what could be going on with her body that could be emaciating her so badly, but…
“The doctor says nothing is wrong with her?” I ask Tawni. “Have you gotten a second opinion?” Tawni shrugs.
“Shi tek many test. Even goh to dah Big Island to anudah doctah. Nuhtin’ wrong wit huh.” I shake my head. Something is wrong with her—they just don’t know what it is. I reach to touch her face and the guy who has silently brooded all this time while throwing threatening looks at me finally speaks.
“Don touch mi galfren!” he hisses. I raise angry eyes at him. What the fuck did he just say?
“Kibba yuh mouth, Tyree! Yu nuh knoh nuhting bout dat!” Tawni slaps Tyree hard on his chest. “Keti not yoh galfren. Neva wuz! Shi no waan yu!”
Tyree glares at Tawni, then back at me. Stay where you are, Tyree… Mi wi lick yuh inna yuh face. I turn my attention back to my ailing Anguillan beauty. I gently touch her dull locks, usually so healthy and vibrant looking. Then I gently stroke her cheek, also sunk in. I’m afraid to see her body. She’s lost a lot of weight; I can tell by her face.
Be strong, Choonks.
“Keri?” I say softly, trying to rouse her from her sleep. It doesn’t take much. Cloudy, sleepy brown eyes open to greet me. There’s my love. There’s my beautiful Island Girl. I smile softly at her as she fights to focus. I’m certain she doesn’t believe what she’s seeing, so I speak.
“Hi, baby,” I say, softly, stroking her cheek.
“Choonks?” she squeaks, her voice barely there, and it breaks my heart. “Whut ahr yuh doin’ heyah?”
“I came to see you,” I say.
“You did?” she gives me a soft weak smile.
“I did. I want to know why you’re sick.”
“I not sick… I tiyed,” she protests. “You com ahl de time… but wen I wake, yuh goh.” She closes her eyes again. She thinks she’s dreaming. I squeeze my eyes tight to squeeze out the tears, then wipe them quickly.
“Baby?” She opens her eyes again. “You’re not dreaming.”
She gazes at me for a long time, then focuses some more. Then she moves to sit up, but I can tell that her head weighs a ton.
“Easy nuh,” I say as she tries to get into an upright position.
“Tis is cruel…” she says softly. “I dream of you, but I can’t touch you…” Her accent is almost nonexistent. I frown. I take her hand and put it on my face. Her breath catches.
“You’re not. Dreaming,” I say again. Her eyes grow large and her lip trembles. She brings her other hand to my face and gently touches it with her fingertips.
“Cho… Choonks?” Again, the words barely escape her lips as tears pour from her eyes. I move to say something, but she falls into my arms weeping. I prepare to catch her weight on my lap, but she doesn’t weight a hundred pounds. That means that she’s lost between 25 to 30 pounds and most of that was muscle. I pull her effortlessly into my arms, holding her close to me while she sobs mournfully, her nightshirt falling over her like a moo moo. I recognize this shirt. It’s not a nightshirt… it’s one of mine.
“Oh, baby,” I lament into her ear as I cradle her in my arms. I don’t know how long we sit there, me squatting on the floor and her tiny frame literally sitting on my lap, but we have enough time for Tawni to warm some conch soup and bring it back to the nightstand.
“Will yuh see if yuh con geht heh to eat?” Tawni says. I nod. She’ll eat it; don’t worry. I raise my head and Tyree has made himself comfortable in the only chair in the room. What the fuck is up with this guy? Do I have my own version of Cholometes here? I just shake my head and look down at my Keri.
“Hey,” I say, lifting her chin to me. She’s still crying.
“Yoh… rahlly… heyah…” she says, her breaths shuddering.
“Yes, I’m really here,” I say, kissing her forehead.
“How… did yuh… geht heyah…? Wheh… did yuh… com… from…?” I chuckle. I can tell her thoughts are a bit disjointed.
“Seattle,” I say, “in the big metal bird?” I tease.
“I mean… how… did yuh…” She’s weeping again. I stand up and sit on the bed with her on my lap and my back to Tyree.
“Tawni called me,” I confess. “She hacked into your phone. She was worried about you.” She nods. We hear a loud thud behind us that startles us both. We don’t have to turn around because we soon see Tyree brush past both of us out of the room. Next, we can hear him arguing with Tawni in the next room.
“Who is that guy?” I ask.
“Tawni… bredda,” she says through her shuddering breaths, her tears now subsiding a bit.
“When I reached for you, he told me not to touch his girlfriend,” I inform her. She shakes her head weakly.
“Not his… galfren,” she says, laying her head on my chest.
“I know that and you know that, but does he know that?” I ask. She sighs. I have a feeling she’s had this conversation more than she would like. There’s plenty of time for that later.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong,” I beseech her.
“Nuhtin’ wrong, Choonks, I just tiyed,” she says, her voice weak.
“Baby, this is not tired. Something is wrong. Something is really wrong.” I hold her as tight as I can without hurting her, burying my face in neck and looking for her warmth and her scent. It’s not there. She’s not herself at all. My Keri… my beautiful Island Girl… what’s happened to you?
“Tawni brought some conch soup. It smells really good. Please eat some for me,” I coax gently. She nods, so I position her back on my lap and begin to feed her the soup. She takes it obligingly at first, but the further we get into the bowl, she begins to take it anxiously, hungrily chewing the pieces of fresh conch, yam, carrots and other vegetables. That makes me feel good. She dribbles a little down her chin. I look around for something to clean it with. Finding nothing, I gently clean it away with my mouth.
There was nothing sexual about it and we both know it. It was just tender, a gesture that I intend to take care of her. She gazes at me, her eyes full of love and gratitude.
“Tell me what’s wrong, baby,” I say softly, gently stroking her cheek with my thumb. “Why are you so tired? Why aren’t you eating? Please talk to me.” I try to see into her, try to see why she’s doing this to herself. She wanted to come home, so I can’t believe that she’s unhappy to be here. What else could it be?
“I jus…” She trails off. Her sad eyes fill with tears again. I shake my head.
“Please,” I say, kissing her eyelids before the tears fall. “Please don’t cry anymore. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” She nods and the tears fall anyway, though she’s not weeping like she was before. “Can I just… take care of you?” I ask. She nods again. I take her hand lead her from her room to the bathroom. I put the toilet seat down and tell her to sit while I run her a bath, adding some of the tropical bubble bath I had become accustomed to smelling on her skin. While the tub fills, I go to her dresser and get clean underwear and a clean gown. Looking at the gown, I think better of it and open my suitcase, removing one of my shirts instead.
When I get back to the bathroom, the tub is just about full and the water is perfect. Good. I notice a few candles strategically placed, like they’re always there for bathtime, so I light them with a candle lighter that I find in the cabinet over the commode. I look back at my beautiful Island Girl who already looks like she’s getting some of the color back in her face. Maybe I’m just wishful thinking, but she looks a whole lot better than she did when I got here a while ago.
I’m just about to undress her when I remember that we’re not alone in the apartment, a fact driven home by another pair of eyes glaring at me from the hallway. I turn to see Tyree staring at us just as I’m about to disrobe my girlfriend. This motherfucker is working my last nerve. I angrily slam the door in his face, thinking this would solve the problem.
How wrong I am.
This fucker actually opens the door and proceeds into the bathroom with his arms folded.
“Do you want to die?” I bark before I can stop myself.
“Wut? Yuh gwine cock it up befoh shi even bettah?” he accuses. I. Am. Burning! I have traveled two oceans and a sea and two countries over 16 hours for this asshole to try to cockblock me while I’m trying to take care of my girl and two people have already told me that his claim to her is imaginary, one of them being my girl? I clench my fist and walk towards this fucker. I’ve taken all I’m going to take from him tonight.
“And if I do,” I growl, my voice rumbling from my chest, “that’s nobody’s motherfucking, goddamn business but ours. Now if I were you, I’d take that misplaced sense of possession of yours, ball it up and put it back in your pocket. Make no mistake, bredda, that one is mine. If I’m here, she’s mine. When I’m gone, she’s mine. She is and always will be mine! So doah cut yu eye affa mi bwoy and quit yah tongue waggin’… before I choke you with it… Yu undastan wah mi a seh, Tyree?”
“Easy nuh,” my Island Girl’s voice and gentle touch on my arm brings me back to myself. “Easy nuh, Choonks.” When I look up, I’ve backed Tyree out of the bathroom and against the opposite wall. I’m bearing down on him, waiting for him to breathe or speak or anything. He still has the same defiant look in his eyes as he sneers up into mine, not showing any fear, but not waggin’ his tongue anymore either.
“Tyree, goh,” I hear her say, but he doesn’t move. He’s still glaring at me. “Goh, now, Tyree! Tawni!” A few seconds later, I see Tawni come from another room around the corner.
“Tyree!” she says, and she bursts into a string of Patois that I can’t even begin to attempt to interpret before snatching her brother off the wall in front of me and dragging him towards the door. I take a deep breath, not even bothering to look in the direction they went and turn my gaze back to my girl. I smile and lead her back into the bathroom, closing and locking the door in case Tyree happens to return. She allows me to undress her and help her into the bathtub.
“Is the water okay? It hasn’t cooled too much, has it?” I ask her. She smiles that beautiful smile at me.
“It’s puhfect, Choonks,” she says sweetly. I want to get to cleaning that beautiful body, but the condition of her hair has me in complete despair. I’ve seen her shampoo enough to know how to do this, so I rummage through the bathroom to find the ingredients I need… baking soda, distilled water, vinegar, tea tree, and her beloved rosemary oil. I combine the ingredients except the rosemary oil and rub it generously into her hair and scalp. Her locs are brittle and I can see that they’re in danger of breaking, so I’m as gentle with them as I can be. The water and products will make them heavier than they already are, so I have to prepare myself for some of them to break while I’m caring for them.
I allow the cleaning mixture to sit in her hair for several minutes while I take a natural sponge and meticulously clean her entire body. She groans in contentment as I massage different parts of her body, bringing life back into limbs that have laid in bed for days. How is she living if she’s not working? Is Tawni taking care of her? What about her students? Who’s teaching her classes? I have so many questions.
After I’ve cleaned and touched every inch of her beautiful, but now frail body, I rinse the mixture from her hair that takes a lot of dirt and dandruff with it before I give her locs a thorough washing with her natural shampoo. I take care in wringing and drying her hair and just as I feared, we lost a dew in the process. Luckily, not many. I know that’s a combination of not caring for her hair and not eating right. I won’t leave her like this. There has to be a resolution to this issue, some kind of resolution. I can’t see her this way ever again.
Once I’ve gotten as much water from her hair as it appears will come out, I wrap her hair in a towel. We’ll allow the towel to soak some of the water for a while before I massage the rosemary oil into her locs and scalp. I help her into her panties and then into my shirt. She smells like Keri now… and me. She looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes and I’m lost immediately in my love for her. I’ve missed her so much. I cup her face in my hands and bring my lips to hers, kissing her deeply.
She moans in her chest and grabs my shirt, returning my kiss, hungrily, like her life depends on it.
I wrap my arms around her tiny body and try to meld her into me. When I press the small of her back like I normally do, she responds immediately and her fingers gently stroke the nape of my neck and behind my ear, sending immediate shivers down my spine. I lap deliciously into her mouth, relaying all the hurt, anguish, and loneliness I’ve felt over the last two months while trying to absorb her despair into me. When our lips part, we’re breathless and weak with want, but I rein in my hormones, breathing deeply and remembering that my Island Girl is not one-hundred percent. I close my eyes with my forehead touching hers, trying to control my raging emotions and not just the ones below my waist. My heart is beating so fast that I’m certain she can hear it. When I open my eyes, her loving brown irises stare back at me and I know I’m completely broken.
“Oh, God,” I lament, bringing my lips to her temple, then her cheek, then her neck. “What have you done to me?” I whisper, holding her close to me and caressing her back. “I won’t be able to leave you again… not after this…”
“It’s really bad,” I say to Christian after I’ve put Keri to bed. It’s the wee hours of Wednesday morning Anguilla time, so I know it’s still Tuesday in Seattle, just barely. “She looks so sick and she’s lost so much weight. I was washing her hair and her locs were coming out in my hands.”
“What?” Christian nearly barks into the phone. “What’s going on down there?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet.” There’s silence on the line.
“You’ve been there for hours. What do you mean you haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet?” I’m on the balcony outside of her room where I can hear her if she wakes, but I won’t disturb her with my conversation.
“Fuck, man, you won’t believe this fucking day!” I say scrubbing my face. “Let’s start with the fact that I get off the goddamn ferry and Tawni’s looking for somebody else completely. Why? Because she didn’t know that I was white.”
“Whoa,” Christian exclaims softly.
“Yeah,” I concur. “Interracial relationships are hard enough without the element of surprise. She told me that her friends knew that I was white. I don’t know how Tawni didn’t know. Speaking of surprises, Tawni is standing there with this goon looking kid, about 5’10”, maybe 5’11”, pretty big curly natural with that perpetual scowl on his face—you know the type, like they’re always angry…”
“Yeah, okay,” Christian urges.
“So, we’re walking to the car and this guy seems to think that he’s going to walk behind me.”
“Oh, bad move,” Christian says.
“Bad move, indeed. So, I turn around to find out who he is and now, I’m squaring off with this kid and I don’t even know his name.”
“Do you ever find out who he is?” he asks.
“Oh, I find out alright,” I tell him. “When we finally get to Keri’s apartment and I see how bad she looks, I reach out to her and this fucker tells me not to touch his ‘galfren!’”
“What?” Christian roars.
“My sentiments exactly. As it turns out, the kid is Tawni’s brother and he has a thing for Keri that’s apparently not mutual.”
“How did you make this discovery?”
“It was confirmed by Tawni and Keri, but this kid has balls the size of Texas. He actually burst into the bathroom when I was about to give her a bath, and he knew what I was doing before he did it because I had just slammed the door in his face.”
“Holy fuck, did you kill him?” Christian asks.
“I would have if Keri and Tawni hadn’t been there. They both made him leave. I’m hoping he got the picture now. Here’s the problem, though. I don’t know if the kid is a past boyfriend, a boyfriend hopeful, a stalker, or what. I just know that in his head, Keri is his woman and I have no right touching her, no right near her and I need to get the fuck out of Dodge.”
“Shit, man, he sounds like Edward David,” he warns. I ponder the thought.
“Nah, he’s different,” I say. “David felt like Ana was the problem. She was the one betraying him and cheating on him. This guy feels like I’m the problem. He’s not possessive; he’s protective. I’m going to confirm with Keri later, but I think I just answered my own question.”
“And what’s that?”
“That woman is addictive. If he had slept with her, he wouldn’t only be tearing down doors to get to her. He’d be in her face, too. He’s only in mine, so there’s nothing between them. He just wants to scare away hopefuls. I don’t how long he’s been chasing her, but along comes a little white boy and…” I trail off.
“I get the idea, but you keep calling him a kid. How old is he?” Christian asks.
“I don’t really know,” I tell him. “I just get that feeling about him. He’s Tawni’s brother. Tawni and Keri are around the same age—that I do know, so I just assumed he was younger. He looks it anyway. He acts it, too. He could be older for all I know.”
“So… what’s the next move?” I sigh.
“I keep asking her what’s going on and all she keeps saying is that she’s tired. I have to get her past ‘I’m tired.’ She’s been to her doctor here in Anguilla and to a doctor on St. Marteen. They’ve run blood tests, done physicals, and they both say that nothing’s wrong with her, but something’s wrong with her. She’s lost 30 pounds at least.”
“Shit, that’s a lot of weight for two months, Chuck,” Christian says.
“You’re telling me!” I exclaim. “I thought Tawni was being dramatic when she said Keri was dying, but if you could just see her…” I trail off again.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I can’t leave her like this. I have to get to the bottom of it. I have to find out why this is happening.”
“You can’t leave her like this, or you can’t leave her?” he asks. He knows the right questions to ask. I won’t lie to him.
“Right now, it’s both,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t know how this is going to turn out; that’s why I have to talk to her, but I will tell you this. Whatever happens, there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her like this.” I hear him sigh.
“I get it. Lord knows, I get it. Keep me posted.”
“I will.” I end the call and go back into the room where Keri lies sleeping. She ate a little fruit and cheese before bed, and a little bread. If I can keep her eating, get her out of bed, maybe she’ll put some of her weight back on. I take off my shirt and shorts and keep my boxers and T-shirt on before I climb in bed behind her.
God, this feels good. I had almost forgotten how good this felt, to have her this close to me, her warmth against my body. She stirs for a moment before snuggling contentedly back into me and once again, we fit together like a puzzle, like we were meant to be here. I’m defenseless against the comfort and sleep comes to me quickly.
I can feel the Caribbean sun attempting to invade my eyelids, but even more so, I feel gentle fingers caressing my eyebrows. I open my eyes and gaze on the caramel goddess lying next to me, looking longingly into my eyes.
“I ptayed dat yuh wuld com,” she says just above a whisper. “I din’t tink it wuz possible, but I ptayed anyway, and yoh heyah.”
She kisses me gently, another kiss full of love and longing… and then she crawls on top of me. I gasp.
She settles her hot cleft on my morning wood and I can feel the heat through my boxerS.
“Ah! Shit, baby. Wait… should we… be doing this?” I ask. “You’re not well.”
“Ah’m fine, Choonks,” she says, grinding against me. “Yoh heyah, now.”
“Ah!” I put my hands on her hips. If I grab that round apple-bottom ass, I’m gone. “Keri…” It’s been two months. Two whole months… Three months of wild, hot, deep, searing monkey sex anytime I wanted it, then two months of nothing—and I mean nothing. I haven’t even jacked off because I wanted her too much. She moves like a master and I discover too late that she’s already out of her panties. My cock is out of my briefs and inside of her in seconds.
“Baby, wait!” I protest in vain. “Fu-uck, baby… wait…” I’m not wearing a condom. I didn’t even bring one. She feels so good… so warm and tight. I feel like a hopeless, horny teenager.
“Is okay, Choonks,” she breathes, her voice thick with arousal as she rides me. “Is okay…”
“No… condom…” I breathe, truly helpless, totally at her mercy, the burn so deep, the tug in my balls already beginning. “I can’t… I can’t stop…”
“Is okay, Choonks,” her arousal now thick, heavy lust with her orgasm lingering moments behind. “I need yuh… please…” Her lips lock with mine and fire shoots straight to my loins. There’s that fucking kiss again, that goddamn kiss that could make me come all by itself. I mold into her as she grinds her hips into mine. She’s wet and hot and tight and I ache for her. I ache for her in my heart and my soul and my dick and my mind all at the same time. The ache is so big and so strong that I can’t control myself. As hard as I try to maintain some kind of self-control, I just want to do everything for her, be everything for her, turn the world upside down for her.
“Hold mah cheeks, Choonks,” she breathes salaciously against my mouth and without remembering why I wasn’t holding her cheeks, my hands grab her round, juicy ass, bouncing hard on my dick and molding perfectly into my hands.
I’m a goner.
“Baby… I’m gonna… come…”
“Noh… Choonks… weht… nawt yet… weht…” Shit, I can’t wait! It’s been too goddamn long!
“Keri… baby…” I warn, the torture more than I can bear. I can’t fucking wait. She feels too good. Too goddamn good.
“Keri… please… stop…” I beg, my dick already starting to come inside her. I can feel it. It’s too late, I can’t stop it.
“Uuuhh! Chatles!” My name is a high-pitched litany on her tongue and she comes madly, tightening violently around me and sucking every bit of my semen from my blissfully throbbing member, along with all of my sense of reason…
“Why did you do that?” I ask while she’s kissing my face after I’ve finally caught my breath. She stops kissing me and her eyes meet mine. I reach up and gently cup her face. “We didn’t use a condom. I could have gotten one… we could have waited.” She turns her lips to meet my palm.
“If I becum ptegnant, I will hahv a piece of yuh wit mi wen yuh goh,” she says softly. “An if I don, I don.” She smiles sadly. I bring my lips up to meet hers and kiss her softly.
“If you have my baby,” I begin, “I’m going to want to do everything for you… for the two you.” I’m hoping she catches my meaning. If Keri gets pregnant with my child, we must be together, wherever we are.
“I knoh, Chatles,” she says, “yuh will be a gud faddah.” I still don’t think she understands what I’m saying, but if she gets pregnant, she will. I kiss her again.
“I want you to get out of the house today,” I tell her. “Show me your Anguilla.” She smiles.
“Mi Anguilla is nawt ahs glahmohtous ahs wut yuh saw wen yuh stay de las time.”
“I know, but I still want to see it,” especially if I may be forced to stay here with you. She rises off me and we both wince at the sexy separation—my limp, wet dick sliding from her thoroughly anointed pussy. It was yet another sexual moment that has us grasping at and kissing each other before we get out of bed. God, I’ve missed this body.
I pull my shorts over my briefs just in time for Keri to open her sliding doors and recoil with a gasp and a yelp. I’m behind her in moments only to see Tyree standing right in the doorway. It doesn’t take a genius to know how long he’s been standing there.
“Totally mah bizness!” he hisses, scowling at me as he backs away from the door and walks down the hallway. I turn to Keri, pointing at his retreating form with my thumb.
“He’s a fucking psychopath!” I say. “He stood at the door and listened to us having sex. Who does that? What’s his fucking deal?”
“I don knoh!” Keri says, obviously shaken. I grasp her arms and look into her eyes.
“Keri, why didn’t Tawni know who I was?” I ask. She raises her eyes to me. “The night before you left America, we talked about your friends. You made it sound like they all knew who I was, but Tawni didn’t have a clue. She didn’t even know I was white.” She’s momentarily speechless, then she shakes her head as if to shake loose a thought.
“Mi and Tawni meet aftah,” she says. “I need hep wit da bills, so I get a woommate. I only knoh heh couple monts. Tytee like me, I knoh, but I don like Tytee.”
I nod. A possible Fatal Attraction fucker who hasn’t even gotten the pussy, I could move her out of here, but he would just follow her. No doubt, he knows where she works. He’s never had any competition before now, because I know she’s never given anyone on the island the time of day… at least not since we’ve been together.
“Let’s just go out and have a good time,” I tell her.
We get dressed and stay sex-funky, enjoying each other’s scent on ourselves, while she takes me to see all of Anguilla that you don’t get to see as a tourist. We eat at her favorite eatery for lunch and go by her school to see her children… and the person currently doing her job. I don’t ask if this is a permanent situation. That question will come in due time. We even go to Kel’s, still open, but there’s no Ma behind the ice cream counter anymore. I’m sad to discover that she passed away only a few weeks ago. She couldn’t wait any longer to get to her good man.
I’m also remiss to discover that Anguilla’s beaches are really quite filthy—smelly and cluttered with the world’s garbage. The high resort fees they collect mainly go to keeping the most inhabited beaches clean. I don’t know how they do it with so much beach and so much sea life, but it appears that they do the best that they can.
Keri and I talk all day about what’s been going on since she got back home, which has really been a whole lot of nothing. The more I listen to her description of what she’s doing, how she’s feeling, what’s she’s planning, and what’s been going on, the more I get images of Ana handcuffed to that goddamn bed, only Keri’s bed is an island… and it’s her home.
When we get back to the apartment, Keri and Tawni fix a dinner of curry crab and red peas soup. Keri’s appetite is back with a wonderful fury and that’s makes me happy. Then again, I know why it left. While she’s cleaning the kitchen, I take the time to talk to Tawni, to find out about her psychopathic brother, more about Keri’s behavior after she returned from the states and if she knows anything about Keri’s position at the school. None of the answers that she gave me left me felling any better about my girl’s current living conditions.
“I may need a little backup,” I say to Christian when I’m talking to him later that night. “I don’t know if or how Keri’s going to stay here without me, and I don’t know if I can stay here with her. I love her, man, but there’s nothing here for me. I would become a sick, possessive asshole and we would end up resenting each other. Not only that, for all intent and purposes, I don’t think she has a job anymore.”
“How is she paying her bills?” Christian asks.
“Her savings and her roommate,” I tell him. “Tawni didn’t know about me because they’ve only known each other since Keri came back from Seattle. Right after she fell ill, Tawni responded to an ad and moved in to help out, but she’s like a boiling turtle, Christian.”
“Okay, you gotta help me out with that one.”
“She loves her home. I know that and I understand that, but there’s nothing for her here. There’s another school, but they’re not hiring. I could probably get security at one of the hotels, but who here would need the kind of skills that I offer?”
“Only every high roller who ever turns up on the island,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Who always brings their own security,” I add. “You know how we look at hotel security. It doesn’t matter what credentials they have behind their names—we never see that. As far as we’re concerned, they’re all Hilton Rent-a-cops and that’s it. That’s no life for me. No, it’s back to the states for me. My only question now is what am I going to do about Keri?”
“So, when you said backup, you need Ana to try to convince Keri to come?”
“No, I don’t think that would work anyway. I was being funny when I said that. Tawni’s brother Tyree has officially stepped over into stalkerdom. And knowing that she only knew him for two months now… this dude was standing outside of the bedroom door while we were fucking.” Silence.
“What?” he barks into the phone.
“Yep. My girl had just climbed off my dick and had she opened that door two seconds earlier, that asshole would have seen it swinging.”
“You gotta be kiddin’ me!” he says in disbelief.
“Nope. So then, there’s him.” I shake my head. “I came planning to find one problem and I find like twelve and yes, all evidence points to loneliness and depression as the cause of her illness. It was all self-imposed. She thought of Anguilla a lot when she was with me, but she never starved or hurt herself when she was in America. This is unhealthy and unacceptable, and somehow, I’ve got to convince her of that. I don’t want her to do anything that she doesn’t want to do, but she has to see how this is no good for her. I can’t see anything good coming from her staying in Anguilla at all… especially since she acts like she’s trying to get pregnant.”
“Whoa! Goddammit! Slow the fuck down, man. Can you let me get over one shocker before you throw something else at me??” Christian exclaims. “She’s trying to get pregnant and she doesn’t even have a damn job?”
“I don’t think she’s thought this out, Christian. She’s running on emotion and pain and there’s no logic in it. She climbed on top and there was no stopping her—not that I wanted to. I was gagging for it, but I didn’t have a condom. I didn’t come down here to fuck. I did try to stop her, if you can call it that, but you tell me how successful you’ll be with getting the warm, wet pussy of the woman you love and yearn for off your dick after two months of nothing.”
“Yeah… no,” he concurs.
“When I asked her why she did that, she admitted that if I leave her, she’ll have a piece of me with her.”
“That is not smart,” he says.
“I told her that I would take care of her. Who am I fooling? If she stayed here with no job, I would take care of her, but I just don’t want her to stay.”
“Do you think that’s what this is all about?” he asks me. “I mean, we all know and love Keri, but could that be a possibility? A free ticket to the states? Citizenship? Someone to take care of her while she stays in Anguilla?” I shake my head as if he could see me.
“I begged her to stay before she left,” I tell him. “I asked her to marry me more times than I can count. I even asked her to marry me at the door of the plane and listened to her weep all the way down the gangplank. I talk to her every day and hear the longing in her voice and what I saw when I got here can’t be faked. She’s goddamn skin and bones, Christian, and her long, beautiful dreads are falling out. If this is all part of some intricate plot, then goddammit, she wins!” I hear myself getting angry at the fact that he could think something like this about my Island Girl.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you or insult Keri. I just wanted to make sure that you were sure,” I sigh heavily.
“I’m sure,” I say, putting my hand on my neck. “I’m very sure. I’m sure enough to damn near throw her over my shoulder, put her on a plane, and drag her back there kicking and screaming if she doesn’t come willingly.”
“Well, let’s not resort to that,” he says. “You know I’m at your disposal. You only have to ask for what you need.” I rub my eyes. I’m suddenly so weary.
“Yeah, I know…”
The hairs on my neck are rising. My surroundings seem a bit surreal, but my skin and instincts sense danger. Whatever’s going on, my training tells me that I have three seconds to make a decision or possibly risk mortal danger. I reach beside me between my hip and the sofa cushion and palm my Glock. It only takes 1.5 seconds to raise it to that fucker’s face and shove it right in his mouth.
“Move one muscle and this is gonna be a closed-casket funeral.”
For the first time since I’ve been here, I see fear in his eyes. I fell asleep on the sofa after I talked to Christian, thinking about my next move with Keri. Force of habit caused me to stuff my piece where I can quickly get to it and it’s a good thing I did because I was facing certain death and dismemberment a few moments ago.
I slowly rise to a sitting position, then stand to face him in the dark. This asshole is standing in front of me with what is easily a one-and-a-half to two-foot bladed machete, poised and ready to take me down… over some pussy he hasn’t even tasted yet.
This is the last straw.
“Move real slow and put it on the floor… one hand.” He releases the weapon and slowly moves to put in on the floor. Before he can stand upright, I kick him so hard in his jaw that I damn near dislodge it from his fucking face. Yeah, it’s a sucker’s move, but I don’t care. The son-of-a-bitch just tried to kill me. He rolls over and crawls backwards away from my Glock pointed at his forehead.
“Get up and get the fuck out of here right now. Don’t come back to this house while I’m here. If I see you on this side of that door one more time while I’m still here, they’ll have to identify you by dental records. Now get your ass out of here before I give you a third eye!”
He doesn’t bother getting up. He just crawls backwards like a crab past the threshold and doesn’t attempt to get to his feet until he’s on the porch. When he does, he scurries down the road away from me and my Glock.
“Choonks!” her voice is panicked. “You leave?”
“No, baby, I haven’t left.” I just can’t sleep in your apartment anymore because your admirer tried to behead me last night. “I’m in a hotel. I… just wanted us to have some more privacy when we’re together.” She sighs audibly on the other end of the phone. Shit. This can’t go on. This is unacceptable. It’s only a matter of time before that psycho motherfucker knows where I’m staying and one of us is going to die if we both stay here. As cliché as it is, this island is truly not big enough for the both of us.
“I’ve got a car,” I tell her. “I’ll come and get you. We’ll spend the day together and… talk.” She’s quiet on the other line.
“Okay, Choonks. Ah’ll be wehting…” I end the call with my Island Girl. I checked into a hotel the moment the sun rose and I knew that psycho fucker was nowhere in sight, but I still needed sleep and the hell if I was getting sleep at that apartment. I left Tyree’s machete at Tawni’s door with instructions to give it back to her brother. Apparently, she hasn’t passed this bit of information on to Keri or she would have mentioned it when she called.
When I come back to pick her up, I’m wearing my holster and firearm in plain view. My credentials give me license to do so and I want no more misunderstandings from Keri’s SBM that I will take his ass down if he so much as sneezes in my direction anymore. Sure enough, he’s brave enough to be on the premises when I get there, but smart enough to follow my instructions to the letter. He’s not beyond the threshold. He’s outside in the dirt with three of his friends. Their intent is to jump me, but I know the type. They’ll part like the Red Sea when I walk up with my Glock cocked. I glare at him from a distance and shake my head. He’s not giving up. My decision is made. This is just one thing in many that lets me know it’s time to get the hell out of here. I take out my phone and quickly dial the number.
“Send the jet tomorrow…”
Keri and I talk all day about what’s going on. I leave out the part where her bwoyfren-hopeful tried to kill me last night. Everything else in and of itself should be enough for us not to want to be here anymore. We finished dinner in my hotel room when I try once more to convince her to return to Seattle with me.
“Anguilla mi home, Choonks,” she protests, “I love heh.”
“And I love you,” I tell her. “I only want you to be happy, and you’re so unhappy here without me, and I can’t stay.”
“But I may have a paht of yuh, Choonks,” she says, holding her stomach with hope, “a paht of you wit mi alwez.” I sigh heavily. You may not make it that long, baby.
“Please think about coming back to Seattle and being with me,” I say as I pull her to me and place my forehead on hers. “I won’t rush you. Take all the time you need. The door is always open. You can come now… in a day… a month or a year… just, please…” I let the words trail off. The pain of leaving her again is nearly more than I can bear, and I’m leaving tomorrow right after the jet has time to refuel and the second pilot is ready to go. I’m going back to Seattle… to my home.
“I tink abut it, Choonks,” she says softly. That’s not a no. Last time, it was no. This gives me hope. I brush my lips against her temple, my soul aching for her again.
“Let me make love to you, Island Girl,” I whisper against her skin. She reaches up and caresses my chest, sending warmth and chills through me at the same time.
“I mek yuh feel gud, bebe,” she says, brushing her lips against mine.
“No, Keri… you made me come, and you made me come hard, but right now… more than anything, I need to make love to you.”
She looks at me with a sadness in her eyes. She could always read me. She knows me well. She knows this means something. It does. I hope it doesn’t mean what I think it means, but if it does, I have to find a way to live with it.
But not tonight. Tonight, I just want to make love to her until we have both had our fill, then I’ll take her home so that we can both think clearly.
“Yes, Chatles,” she says, her voice cracking. “Please…”
I close the space between us and gently stroke her cheek. I need to take my time tonight, to savor her flavor, absorb her… gently… just like that last time in Seattle, in case I have to be without her for another two months…
Or a year…
I move behind her and spread my fingertips gently across her throat, my thumb behind her ear, just enough to hold her to me while I bury my mouth in her neck and feast hungrily, possessively on her skin. She moans quietly, seductively, and I feel my Island Girl coming back to me… and slipping away at the same time.
She leans her head back, granting me full access to her neck, her jaw, that sensitive spot under her earlobe. I lift her shirt and gently caress her navel, feeling her shiver under my touch. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands since I’m standing behind her. I reach down and untie her wraparound skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. I walk in front of her and gaze at her with hungry eyes before gently nipping her lips while caressing her full ass over her lace panties. Still nipping at her lips, I squeeze her hips and rub the lace hard against her skin. She swallows hard, panting against my mouth. I back her up to the bed and lay her down over the duvet.
She looks delectable in her white lace panties and peasant blouse, and I can clearly see that she’s not wearing a bra underneath. Her breasts are firm and perky, so she doesn’t need one, but right now, while she’s highly aroused, her nipples are standing at full attention and beckoning me through the soft cotton. I remove my deck shoes and pull my T-shirt over my head before moving next to her on the bed. I run my hand up the outside of her bare leg pausing to appreciate her hip and the lace panties, then to softly tease her belly and brush lightly over the mound of her breasts before stopping at her neck, gently and possessively clasping it again and placing soft, sensual sex kisses on her lips that are full of promise.
Yes, baby, I plan to taste you and love you until neither of us can stand anymore.
I move my lips from her plump, juicy, tender mouth down her neck and between her breasts. Rolling on top of her, I take both of the ample mounds in my hands and torment the nipples—first one, then the other—through the cotton of her blouse until she’s shivering with need.
“Choonks,” she gasps, digging her head back into the bed and pushing her breasts into my hands and mouth, “don mek meh weht…” she pleads.
Fuck, that’s torture.
Do you have any idea how much I want to fuck you right now? To just be inside you… to mark you and claim you…
But that’s not what this is. That’s not the purpose of this exercise. The purpose of this is to give myself over to her—to completely open myself raw to her. This is a plea and we both know it. When this night is over, all of my cards will be on the table. The final play will be Keri’s…
But tonight is mine.
I force the elastic of her blouse to the side with both of my hands, exposing both of her nipples to the air—to my fingers and mouth. I suck them hard, hungrily, allowing them to pull then pop back out of my mouth. She groans in anguish.
“Chatles, please…” she begs. In due time, Island Girl, in due time.
She’s eager when I take her shirt by the hem and begin to pull it up her body. She sits up immediately and helps me to pull it over her head. And now those beautiful caramel mounds are on perfect and full display for me.
Control yourself, Chuckie…
I dive into her lips again, cupping her the flesh in both hands and running my thumbs across the nipples before dragging my mouth down her body to feast again on her bare breasts. When she’s writhing with desire, I move down to her belly button and the sensitive skin right above her pubic hairline. She trembles under my touch, my kiss, my lick, and I slowly place both hands underneath the lace of her panties and sensually drag them down her legs.
“Oh, Choonks, why… why, why, why…?” she begs silently and I know that she wants me to put her out of her sensual misery, so I kiss my way back up her legs and do just that. Normally, she likes it when I play in her pubic hair, tracing through it with my tongue, but not tonight. Tonight, I grab that beautiful ass, lift those hips to my mouth, and zero right in on that clit.
“Ah! Ah! Chatles!” she cries out, her back bowing and her fingers digging into my hair as much as fingers can dig into my cropped hair. “Chatles! Please! I come too fahst!”
Oh, no, baby, you wanted it, you got it. I suckle that tasty little button, pressing it hard with my tongue, then sucking again with my lips until I feel her hips start to tremble. That took almost no time.
“Chatles… please…” she pants, “Too… fast… ple… aaaaaahhh!” but it’s too late. Once that tender bunch of nerves starts to pebble in my mouth, I don’t dare stop. I suck, kiss, and lick that tasty little morsel until she’s clawing at me for relief. Once I know her orgasm has wafted through her and she’s on the decline, I quickly slide out of my jeans and over her until our mouths meet. I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth so that she can taste herself on me. She groans as I press my cock into her folds and let it slid between her lips.
“Baby,” I breathe, “you’re so hot and wet for me.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Only foh yuh.”
I can’t take it anymore. I sink into her with a gasp. She’s so tight and I want to fuck her so deep and hard, but I have to concentrate. Good God, do I have to concentrate! Deep, she’ll get, but it will be slow and gentle, burning, and meticulous. Completely and absolutely mind-blowing… for both of us.
I pull my hips back slowly, gently and start to move.
“My God, you feel so good,” I choke, “I love you so much, Keri,” I say, my arms framing her face and my lips brushing hers. “You taste so good and you smell so good. Mmmmm, you were made just for me…”
I love her deep and slow, my hips rolling into hers until I begin to feel her trembling again.
“Oh, baby, you’re so hot…” I can feel her insides starting to ripple again starting to wrap around me…
“Chatles,” she breathes, pushing her head back, her lips parted so that she can breathe. “I love yuh, Chatles…”
I close my eyes and allow the words to wash over me as I thrust my fingers into her hair and my aching erection into her core. My chest tightens with the weight of the emotion that I feel and I gently bite her chin and nip down her jawline.
“Hold me, Island Girl,” I breathe when I get to her ear. She brings her arms around me and places her hands flat on my back. It actually burns. How will I live without you…?
The smell and feel of our bodies together overwhelm me more than the feeling of being inside her, of wanting to come inside of her—skin to skin having already thrown caution to the wind. She feels so magnificent around me, but more importantly, she feels magnificent inside of me.
I open my eyes and watch her otherworldly expression of ecstasy as I drive her to yet another orgasm. I can only watch for a moment as the beauty is unbearable and threatens to tip me over the edge, along with the sensual sounds oozing from her throat and chest as we move as one body. I clamp my eyes closed to fight back tears that threaten to fall as I continue to love her deeply, strongly, with all the passion that my heart, mind, and soul can muster.
“You’re so beautiful,” I breathe as I thrust. “I’ll love you forever. I’ll give you anything… everything… You’re my air… My soul…”
I love her until she weeps, then I kiss her tears away and love her some more. I pour myself into her again and again with my love, my words, my body, and my seed, filling her until she’s overflowing and begs me to stop. When I do, I hold her, kiss her, and caress her, unable to cease my professions of devotion until I finally decide as the sun is rising to take her home so that she can rest… and think.
“Dude, of all the gin joints in the world, you had to come to Anguilla and fall in love.” Jay ribs me while I pack what’s left of my things in the hotel room.
“Yeah,” I say with no mirth. “Fucking sucks.” I grab my duffle bag and suitcase and don’t even go over the room to see if I left anything behind. I’m leaving this place worse than I was when I got here. I didn’t stay nearly as long as I planned to and though I found out what was wrong with Keri, I didn’t solve anything. At the very most, I knocked her up. Nice going, Choonks.
I didn’t tell Keri that I was leaving today until this morning. I didn’t have the heart to tell her last night when we were making love. She’s brave and acted strong when I broke the news to her, but I could almost see her slipping back into that depression I found her in when I got her. We’ll stop by her apartment before we go to the pier to catch the ferry back to St. Marteen. Christian is settling the bill with the front desk when we get downstairs. I throw a look at him and he just twists his lips at me, picking up my duffle and walking out the door.
Once we get to Keri’s apartment. Tyree is sitting outside like the good little gargoyle he is. He scowls at me, but it’s soon replaced with a knowing smirk as this time tomorrow, he’ll have my girl all to himself. I shiver at the thought.
“Is that him?” Jay says, gesturing to Tyree.
“Yeah, that’s him,” I respond.
“He doesn’t look like much,” Christian says.
“Yeah, well, he looks like God when he’s standing over you with a machete,” I say.
“Duly noted.” I get out of the car and go inside to once again say goodbye to my love.
She’s sitting on the sofa—the same sofa where I nearly lost my life—looking every bit as forlorn as I found her a few days ago.
“Choonks…” she stands, but says nothing else. I can’t beg anymore. She has to make this decision on her own. I walk over to her and palm her cheek with one hand.
“I love you so much,” I say softly, kissing her gently, reverently. “I’ll love you forever. Wherever you are, I’ll always be there for you. I hope you are carrying my child, because I’ll know that I’m always with you.” I kiss her again and again. I can’t do long goodbyes like we did in Seattle. It’ll only rip us apart and prolong the inevitable.
“I want to sing the words to some corny song, something to remember me by, but I can’t think of one.” I kiss her again and taste her tears on my lips. I take her hands in mine, entwining our fingers. “Instead, I’ll just say… palm to palm.” She chokes a sob.
“Haht… to.. h… please, don leave mi, Choonks!” She throws her arms around my neck and sobs bitterly. It breaks me. It breaks every bit of resolve that I have and I nearly tell Jay and Christian to get on the plane and leave me here. How can I possibly leave my heart—my love and life—behind?
“I can’t stay,” I whisper through my own tears. “On top of everything else, it’s not safe for me here.” Her tears stop and she wrenches herself from my arms.
“Waht…” she begins in disbelief. “Waht yuh tahkin’ ‘bout?” I frown. I hadn’t intended to tell her this, but there’s really no reason not to.
“I did want us to have some privacy, but that’s not the only reason I stayed at the hotel for the last two nights,” I tell her. “Tyree tried to kill me in my sleep.” She frowns deeply. I can take him, but only when I’m awake. This motherfucker is crazy. He’ll gut me while I’m in the bathroom taking a shit.
“Watt???” she shrieks. I tell her about waking up to a near-beheading and she screeches like a banshee. She’s out of that apartment and on top of that man like a hurricane from hell. Jay and Christian are out of the car in a moment, but I hold my hand up to them to stay back. She’s screaming Patois curses at this man like I’ve never heard and beating new meaning into old words as she wails blow after blow on him. I’m stunned. He never gets off the ground—not that he could—and only covers his head to shield himself from the worst of the assault.
“Yuh too foofool fi si seh mi nuh waan yuh an yuh try to kill mi Choonks?” She spits on him, then spits on him again. “Fyah fi yuh!” She kicks sand and dirt on him as she curses him continuously. I finally wrap my arms around her to stop her onslaught. She’s so frail and petite, so much smaller than I remember, that it takes no effort at all to subdue her.
“Ssssshhh,” I soothe her, breathing into her hair. “Easy nuh, baby… easy nuh.” She weeps for a moment, all of her energy leaving her at once.
“Tek mi,” she says through shuddering breaths, “tek mi wit yuh. Anguilla is mi ‘ome, but naht witout yuh… naht witout Choonks…” She falls limp in my arms, but continues to weep. I lift her effortlessly off the ground. She’s so light that it scares me. Tawni was right… she’s dying; she wasting away before our eyes.
“Keep an eye on him,” I say to Jay as I carry Keri back into the apartment, Tawni close behind.
“Keti?” she says when we get back to her bedroom. The word is full of questions as I place Keri on the bed.
“It ahl change, Tawni,” Keri says, her voice weak. “I hav tah goh.” Tawni’s eyes are sad as she takes her friend’s hand.
“I knoh,” she says. “I knoh wen I cahl him. I knoh wen hi com.” Tawni stands and goes to the closet, pulling clothes out and placing them on the bed. There are tears on her cheeks when she turns and smiles at her friend. “Eet’s spring in America. Pick sumtin ptetty…”
She only packs two suitcases, one packed mostly with the things that she bought when she was in Seattle and the other with many keepsakes and important documents and information. She loads her carry-on with whatever necessities she feels that she may need during the 12-hour flight back to Seattle, making sure that her identification and passport are in her purse. We’ll sort out the conditions of her residency later. Right now, we just need to get her into the country.
Tawni has agreed to pack the rest of her things for her. She’ll contact us when they’re ready and we’ll have them shipped to my house in Bainbridge. I wish this was happening under different circumstances, but either way I’m bringing my baby back home.
She takes one last look around her apartment, then hugs her friend warmly before walking out the door. Tyree is still on the ground, now sitting against the wall with his legs bent and his arms resting on his knees. She looks at him contemptuously, but says nothing before walking to the car and getting inside.
Once again, the ride to the ferry is short, and this time, Christian has chartered a private ferry back to St. Marteen. Once our passports are all cleared, we board the jet, finally bound for Seattle so that I can nurse my girl back to health and begin our new life.
A/N: SBM–Single Black Male
Six more to go… and now Keri is back where she belongs.
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Love and handcuffs