I plopped down on the bed, on the brink of sleep because Elise always took a shower first. Then I felt her weight on top of me. Her knees planted beside my waist, and her hands reached for my belt buckle.
“No, you can’t go to sleep yet,” she commanded.
My eyes popped open, and my hands gently caressed her side. She still had on that sexy ass costume, but her sweater was no longer covering her titties. They spilled out of the top just right, and my dick bricked up with them pretty motha fuckas bouncing out at me. I gripped Elise tightly and flipped her over, peering down at her beautiful face. My eyes were locked on Elise as I brushed some of her braids out of her face.
“I love you, girl.”
“I love you too,” she professed.
Elise tried to pull me down, but I fought against her strength and jumped off her. “What are you doing?”
“We made a pact, and we are going to stick to it. A few weeks until we meet the deadline, that’s how serious I am. We areabstinent. You can’t tempt me with these fishnets. Although I wanna eat you through them,” I vexed, biting into my bottom lip.
“Rashawn!” Elise whined, but I was already in the bathroom with the door locked before she could protest.
CHAPTER FOUR
Elise Marshay Hunter
Picking sunflowers on Friday was definitely the best date I’d ever been on. My favorite flowers with my favorite person. After filling both buckets with sunflowers, we grabbed food, and then it was time for the farm to close. I was already looking forward to our second date at the farm; there was so much to do. Mainly seeing the sunflower fields during the daytime.
After leaving the farm, we checked into a boutique hotel nearby instead of making the trip back to Tampa that late. We checked out of the hotel the next morning, and I hid out at Rashawn’s place on Saturday. Essex thought I was in Brooksville and never called me when I was up there. He’d shoot a text to make sure I was good, but he left me alone when I was visiting our parents. Hence why Essex was under the impression that I went to church with my parents every Sunday, when in reality I spent half of my Sundays with my parents and the other half curled up at Rashawn’s house after I went to church with his mom.
My phone vibrated on the bed again. It was my parents calling for the third time that morning. After sending them to voicemail, a text came through.
Father: Faith has soft tissue bruising on her hand from your attack.
Me: Good. She learned a valuable lesson the other day. Keep your hands to yourself if you don’t want to deal with the repercussions.
The reply bubble popped up, and I blocked them before they could send any further messages. I scooted out of the bed and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Rashawn’s six-four frame was still fast asleep in his bed, his head peaking out of the covers, giving me the perfect view of his handsome sleeping face.
Since I wasn’t going to my parents’ church, I informed Ms. Sasha, Rashawn’s mother, that I would be joining her. Whenever I didn’t go to church with my parents, I would pick Ms. Sasha up, and we’d attend her church. It took me a few minutes to get myself together to head home to prepare for church, and Rashawn slept through it all.
About two hours later, we pulled into the parking lot of the church, and I circled twice before finding a parking spot in the back.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t ready,” Ms. Sasha apologized.
“It’s okay. I also invited myself at the last minute,” I assured her.
Ms. Sasha wore a copper, flowy maxi dress with dramatic, draped sleeves that added a soft silhouette to her figure. The gold heels and simple gold chain with the letter T charmcomplemented the dress perfectly. Then Ms. Sasha held the gold and copper clutch firmly in her manicured hand, her medium-sized French tipped nails finishing the look off just right. I always secretly admired Ms. Sasha and her fashions growing up. The highlight of my week with my baggy clothes was seeing what Ms. Sasha was going to wear to church on Sundays. Then Rashawn got into the fight in school, and she switched churches, stealing my sliver of weekly joy.
Coincidentally, Rashawn took me shopping my first weekend in college, where I confessed my secret admiration of his mother’s style. From that point on, Rashawn had Ms. Sasha pick out a few outfits every week for his mystery crush until I graduated from college. Then I begrudgingly had to put that to a halt because Ms. Sasha would be able to put two and two together if I kept popping up in the outfits she shopped for. Plus, we’d grown close over the years, going to church together, and shopping and fashion became a regular topic for the two of us. I basically learned the game from Ms. Sasha, and I had the pleasure of going shopping with her regularly.
Since I was in a rush to get dressed, I was on the simpler side. My long sleeved cheetah print blouse was paired with black slacks and platform block heels. I quickly tossed my small black Telfar bag over my shoulder and grabbed my custom honeycomb-yellow bible from the dashboard, its front etched with a sunflower and my name in the bottom corner, before we exited my truck. The sun warmed my face the moment I stepped out, reminding me that it was still eighty degrees in November. Just the way I loved it.
We caught a little traffic on the drive, making us right on time instead of our usual early arrival to secure a good seat. Since we had to park in the back I already knew we were going to be on the back pew. I lifted my key fob to lock my doors when a familiar engine growl approached us in the parking lot.
Rashawn swerved his black Dodge Ram into the parking lot, claiming the empty spot beside me. “Is that my son?” Ms. Sasha’s eyes narrowed on the truck.
The dark tint and the Hurricane emblem confirmed it for me before Rashawn’s truck was within a few feet of us. “Y’all wait for me,” he called out, jogging around his truck.
When Rashawn came into view, he looked delectable dressed in cream creased slacks and a brown Ralph Lauren button up with the cream logo. His shirt was tucked in, and the matching loafers had Rashawn looking church ready. I could’ve melted right there seeing Rashawn in the outfit I bought him for his birthday last Christmas. It looked even better than I envisioned when I put the pieces together.
Rashawn rarely came to church, but when he did, I promised I fell harder. After admiring his outfit, I noticed his low red eyes, a direct result of his morning joint, and I shot Ms. Sasha a smirk. I knew she was about to let him have it.
“MCHT!”
She sucked her teeth. “I know you ain’t come up here fresh off of smoking that dope!” Ms. Sasha gritted, and I giggled.
