He loved the fuck out of this girl. He had tried not to. He didn’t like anything that didn’t make sense. Demi added up situations from front to back and from back to front just to establish clarity, and in this position, he still came up short. There was no explaining the potency of this feeling. He barely knew Charlie, but he loved her.
“I just want you all over me, so if I got to go without you again, I can last longer this time,” he said.
“You feel it too?” she asked.
The nod was all she would get. It was all he could muster. He couldn’t vocalize what perplexed him. Demi was a man that relied on logic. Things had to make sense to him. This misunderstanding of emotion, this game of hearts made him feel irrational. It made him feel unsteady. The feeling of his racing heart hemorrhaging in his chest as it went wild, beating against the cage of his heart, trying to break free to run from her. Fear. Charlie was terrifying. The scariest dream that he didn’t want to wake up from.
His strong thighs lifted them both from the seat and they kissed, long, deep, sloppy kisses that he hated but that she loved. She already knew where he was headed. The bathroom. The shower. The only place where her touches didn’t hurt because her hands would be clean. He put her on the vanity and unhooked her bra. His hands held an expertise that made her nipples pebble in yearning. There was no fumbling with hooks, no clumsy fingers tripping up on the lace. He was skilled in undressing a woman. Never any like Charlie, though.
“Out here in this little-ass shit,” he chastised, removing it. Charlie was so damn petite, she had just enough of everything to fit in his mouth. Portion control. Charlie was bite-sized, only enough for a quick taste. In order to savor her, he would have to have her again and again. He ripped the skirt, tearing the slit until he exposed her red panties, and then he tore through those too. Demi had a lot of beast in him. He tried to control it. Putting his murder game down calmed him some. He had worked out his mental angst in the streets for years, but Charlie activated a different part of his crazy. It was her voice, the way she used it, even when she was only speaking. That tone hypnotized him. Her clothes were evidence of the crime he was ready to commit. Attempted homicide because Demi wanted to murder that pussy. He gripped the edge of the counter around her as he buried his face in her neck. His tongue to her neck because he couldn’t help himself. He thought of everything that was on her skin that was now in his mouth. He tasted her perfume. His skin crawled and his dick bricked. Charlie was an infection. What the fuck was he even doing here with her? This was sick. Her little-ass walked all over every boundary he had ever created for people.
“I need the water, Bird,” he groaned, lifting her, pressing her wet into his sweatpants because he was still fully dressed.
“Okay,” she gasped, locking her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He opened the shower door, put her down and then stepped back, admiring her body. Charlie was everything opposite of what normally attracted him. She was soulful and thin, with a little bit of everything: a lil’ ass, lil’, pretty titties with bite-sized chocolate chip nipples that were begging him to take a taste, and a lil’, pretty pussy that he was dying to kiss. He wouldn’t because he didn’t know Charlie like that and he had to vet her entire medical history before he went there, but he wanted to. He removed the gold chain from his neck and put it around her neck. She gripped the crown pendant. The diamonds fit her well. Just like that, she took possession of it and he wondered if her magic was in her touch because when she had touched him just like that, he had become hers. Like the necklace... it was hers now. It made sense. She was a queen. She needed a crown. She deserved riches. It made sense that her presence commanded him. Charlie may as well had been Medusa because he turned to stone in her presence, unable to leave until she allowed it...until she uncast her spell on him. Demi came out of his clothes. Heavy. Demi was heavy, everywhere. Reputation, pockets, dick. Heavy-ass, boss-ass nigga. He stepped into the shower and turned on the rainfall. The water fell over them and Charlie cringed.
“Guess I can expect you to fuck up my locs every time I see you. I just got a retwist!” she said, laughing as his arm wrapped her waist, pulling her close.
“Every day,” he answered.
“Nah, that’s impossible because that means you’re going to pull up every day and we both know you like to go missing,” she whispered as she zeroed in on his bottom lip. Charlie bit him and then soothed the pain with her tongue as she pushed into him.
“Every day, Bird. I’m tapping in with you every day, that’s my word,” he said, barely finding space for words between kisses. They stumbled, kissing, all over the shower and Demi had to free one hand to find a wall to brace them both. His other hand never left her ass.
“Yeah, a nigga love you, Bird. Love the fuck out of you, baby,” he said. She pulled back in shock. She nodded. They now had an understanding. This was on some love shit and he was terrified. She could see it in his creased brow, but fuck it. They felt what they felt. It was too late now. Gas. Charlie hit the gas and lowered. If he loved her, she wanted to taste his love. It was hers. He was hers. She swallowed Demi and he grunted as he widened his stance and gripped her hair with one hand.
“Oh shit,” he moaned. “Suck that shit, Bird.”
Demi was a different type of lover. He handled her, keeping her pace for her as he wound his hips into her face. Charlie kept up like a champ.
Aggressive and particular. He liked everything in his life a certain way, including sex, but Charlie somehow pulled spontaneity from him. He had been hitting Lauren the same way for years, opting for doggy style because he could control her hands that way. He pinned them behind her back as he hit it every time. Charlie, he wanted to see. The burn of her curious fingers, even now as she reached up his body, sliding fingernails down his stomach, was a defiance of his rules. She gripped him, riding the mic, pulling her neck back and forth while rotating her wrist. His ass tightened as he gripped the other side of her face. “Fuck!” He was throbbing and he pulled back because he was about to explode, but Charlie didn’t stop. “I’m about to nut, Bird, damn.”
When she didn’t stop, his head fell back. Lauren didn’t do this. Hell, he wasn’t sure Lauren could do this because he wasn’t big on saliva being on his body, but she definitely wasn’t swallowing.Charlie took in every drop of his soul and his body seized as his mouth opened as he came.
He was in deep with Charlie. He knew it when he had stayed the night at her junky apartment, but this confirmed it. As he washed her body, while kissing her lips, and whispering shit about love, he knew. His head was gone. In Charliezonia. That’s where it was. Lost somewhere in her psyche.
He hoisted Charlie up with dick and strong thighs as she bounced all over him. Soap and cum washed down the drain as she screamed his name in octaves he had never heard. It was a street symphony, a sex symphony, his new favorite song. “Oh my God, Demi!” was his favorite lyric. Heavy breathing and more kisses. When she hopped on him, he pushed out of the shower, getting water everywhere.
“I missed you, babe,” she admitted as he placed her on her feet and reached for a towel. He wrapped it around her body, then got one of his own.
“No bullshit, Bird, I listened to that video you sent me a hunnid times. I know every sound. Even the damn dog barking in the background at the thirty-second mark,” he admitted.
She blushed and giggled sweetly. His pretty bird.
“Don’t make me miss you again,” she said.
“I won’t,” he guaranteed.
“Promise?” she asked. There was something about promising a woman something. It was like a contract. Like a signing away of your soul. A fucking mortgage to his heart. Charlie wanted the keys, and she was currently working on placing a lock on him.
“That’s my word,” he said, against his better judgement.
“You ripped my clothes,” she said. “What am I supposed to put on?” she asked, laughing.
“I ain’t done with your body, baby, you don’t need no clothes tonight,” he said. “I’ma fill your closet tomorrow, don’t worry about it.”
His phone rang and he retrieved it from the pockets of his pants.
LO
