Epilogue
Takira
One Year Later
Not again.
Thump thump whoosh
Thump thump whoosh
The sounds float up from Naz’s basketball court outside of our bedroom window. He and Cliff have been at it for hours.
I’m seated on the edge of the bed—bathed, waxed, dolled up, and ready. I’ve been looking forward to this all day. All week, really, since I’ve been on set and have barely seen Naz. Little did I know that when he and Cliff made things right between them, it would be my own brother cock-blocking me. I love that he’s staying with us here in LA for a few weeks while interviewing for a coaching job at a prestigious private high school, but enough is enough.
“Wanna go for another?” Cliff’s shout climbs up through the open window.
I stomp over and lean out as far as I can go without falling or revealing how little I’m wearing.
“Hell no!” I yell, almost laughing when they both jump in surprise and glance up at me. “Game over. Find something to do for the rest of the night, Cliff. You had Naz long enough.”
“Ewwww.” Cliff slams the ball to the court and pretends to gag. “Don’t tell me this is sex-related, ’cause I don’t need to hear that shit about my little sister.”
“Then I won’t tell you.” I laugh, shifting my gaze to Naz, who is grinning like a Cheshire cat with a bowl of cream. “But Naz has to come inside now. You two can play tomorrow.”
Within minutes, Naz’s footsteps are pounding up the stairs. Our bedroom door flings open, almost bouncing against the wall.
“You rang?” He kicks the door closed and prowls over to where I sit on the bed.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms under my breasts, pretending to be irritated but actually turned on by his bare chest, sinewy arms, massive shoulders, and the ridges of his eight-pack glistening with perspiration.
“It’s a shame I had to.” I mock-pout. “I thought you’d be here when I got home, ready to service me.”
He leans in, hovers over me, forcing me to lay back on the bed. His eyes scour my pink bra, crotchless panties, garters, and kitten heels.
“I’m at your service now.” He bends and leaves kisses along my throat.
I yelp, laughing when his sweat drips onto my chest. “You’re nasty. Go take a shower.”
“That’s a great idea.”
Before I have time to guess his intentions, he scoops me up and over his shoulder, walking toward the bathroom.
“No, you don’t.” I beat my fists against his broad back, laughing so hard I can hardly get the words out. “’Boy, if you—”
He slaps my ass, one arm behind my legs as I dangle over his shoulder. He uses his free hand to turn on the shower and walks us into the huge, tiled space under the spray. The shock of water makes me scream. When he sets me on my feet, I give up, letting the water soak my lingerie through.
“I bet you and Cliff would have been out there for another hour,” I say, reaching for the body wash to soap up his chest, “if I hadn’t called you in.”
“I think you mean if you hadn’t booty-called me in.” He chuckles when I punch his chest with one soapy fist. “Cliff went out to grab some food. Your poor brother is probably scarred imagining all the things I’m doing to his baby sister tonight.”
My hands slow in circles over his shoulder, wander down the corrugated muscles of his abdomen, and finally grip his dick with soap-slick palms. He bends until his lips rest right at my ear, whispering like it’s a secret.
“I’m going to fuck you.” He runs a finger between the cheeks of my ass, pressing one huge knuckle to the puckered entrance. “Here.”
For a second, I don’t respond, but shudder with the promise of something I enjoy so much with him. I slide my hand up and down his rigid length. “Your royal penis is clean, Your Highness.”
“Not for long.” He chuckles darkly, turning off the water. Standing in the shower, he unhooks the front closure of my fragile lace and silk bra, licking his lips when the straps slip down my arms and my breasts spill free. He tosses the bra to a corner of the shower.