Cherié

Chapter 9

I arrived to the address she gave me. She moved out of campus housing a month ago into a fixer upper she was renovating to flip. I looked over the house and it was small. Like unusually small compared to the other homes on the street. It also looked to be a hundred years outdated next to its neighbors.

I grabbed my folder and our dinner from the passenger seat.

“I’m here Kitty Pryde,” I said into my cell as I watched the house unsure if she was in there. It looked dark.

“Come through the side door, I’m in the kitchen.”

I did as she requested and made my way up the driveway to the side door towards the back of her home. She was in the kitchen at the stove. I looked over the small space and said. “This is your home,” I was confused at how she paid over 200,000 for well… this.

She turned to me. “This is a great starter home.”

She had just finished the updates to the kitchen and bathroom. She wanted to redo the kitchen flooring, but she was content with everything else. The countertops were a beautiful white and green marble. The appliances were black and sleek. They were petite like the space they managed.

I walked over to her and sat the food on the counter beside her. “What are you making. I told you I was picking up dinner,” I took the wine out and put it in the fridge.

“I’m making dessert. This is going to be the best thing you’ve ever eaten.” Her promise was bold and presumptuous. There was nothing on this earth that tasted better then her p***y.

“I guess I’ll get dinner ready while you do… that?” I said watching her melting jams. I was confused and I’m sure she noted my hesitation.

“It’s a fruit and preserves tart. The flavors are going to blow your mind. I sliced up some apples and I boiled them in some Cranberry juice until they were nice and tender. Now I’m making the base for the filling. Raspberry, peach, strawberry, and blackberry preserve with a splash of Cranberry juice and I’m not sure if I should do lime juice or orange zest,” she turned from her insane creation to look at me. “What do you think I should use Professor?”

I had no idea what to say. She was looking so expectantly at me. Then she sighed and added spices to her pot. She put some on spoons then made two samples one with lime juice the other orange zest. She handed one of each to me.

I cautiously tried her Frankenstein dessert. It was actually really delicious. The lime was settle and jelled the flavors together. Then the orange zest added a little boost to the sweetness and the citrus cut through it on the back end.

She didn’t wait for my response she added the orange zest. She let it cook for another minute be for she fill the puff pastry’s that housed the apple slices all neatly layered in a circular design. She then added what looked like melted butter ontop with a basting brush. She popped the tray in the oven set the timer and sat at the small dining table across from me.

She bowed her head and said a prayer over her food. Then she took up her fork and ate like she was performing an elegant ballet. I never seen her so graceful and reserved.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you eat…”

“Well, enjoy the view while you can. This is my favorite pasta.”

I had a lot of questions now. I needed to know what happened to the what you see is what you get , nonchalant girl I knew. I felt like I was dining with Princess Beatrice. “What’s the story with the princess act? You never sit straight or cross your legs.”

“Maybe I’m trying to be polite.”

I eyed her because we both knew that was bullshit. She rolled her eyes at me and sighed. “We are trying to become friends. I should know things about you. Like a friend.”

“Don’t make this into a thing. But I’m from the south and most girls are pageant girls. I was rough around the edges as a little girl and my mom made me take etiquette classes with a British Nazi. That lady signed me up for a pageant and it took almost ten years to get out of it. I struggled the most with table etiquette. So that’s what I spent every f*****g day doing. Tied to a chair, rice and pins around my plate so I wouldn’t put my elbows on the table. All of it and my mom’s fears I was going to be a lesbian created what is before you.”

I shook my head. “So you like… were a baby model?”

She rolled her eyes. “There is modeling involved. But it’s different. I don’t talk about the dark period. It stays in the repression box. And back in it goes.”

I took her hand in mine. I could relate to having a parent try to drastically change who I am. “My dad always planned for me to take over his business. When I gave it up he more or less kicked me out of the family and split my inheritance between my brother and sister. That’s why I took my mother’s maiden name.”

“Sooo, what the hell is your name?”

I laughed. “Charles Crawford…”

She rolled her eyes at me as I smirked. “What is the name your parents put on your birth certificate.”

“D’Angelo,” I said scrunching my nose I hadn’t said that name in so long it didn’t feel right.

“D’Angelo, what’s the family business you didn’t want in on?”

My dad was one of the three remaining mob bosses in Philadelphia. He was the pride and joy of South Philly. I was never cut out for that life. I was like my mom. A nerdy genius. My dad thought he could turn the sweet innocent bookworm into a loud mouth party girl. I’m sure that’s why after my brother who is 13 months younger than me. They split. They were from two different worlds.

“They have a few things now, but mostly commercial real estate.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

She laughed. “I just wanted to make sure we didn’t have the same father. Sadly my mom is still at his side. She is always on his side. No matter how much he cuts others down, including her. He is a pastor of a really big church in New Orleans. He wanted me to be a teacher at the school he established. He even tried to “arrange” a marriage for me.” She looked off in the distance and pushed her food around.

“How did he take you majoring in Library Science?” I ask trying to bring her out of the dark memory that soured her mood.

I grabbed her hand and massaged it. “I double majored and library science was a minor I added to my history degree. I wanted to be a museum curator.”

That was surprising. I laughed and shook my head. “So what was your other major? Business?”

“It doesn’t matter. He didn’t like it.” She shrugged then and returned to her plate. I assumed it was too much family talk for tonight. Then the oven timer rang.

She got up and sat the pastries to cool on the cooling rack. Then she retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and the now chilled wine. “I’m glad I got away from that small town. We lived right outside of Nola’s boarders. I’m glad I found my home.”

“I was in an arranged marriage, obviously it didn’t work out. Still, I’m so grateful that it didn’t happen.” After, she sat and settled, I squeezed her hand and raised it to my lips. “You keep finding new ways to surprise me.”

********

It was her first day with me and she had done nothing but torture me. Her body was stuffed in a skin tight leather dress that hardly cover the folds of her ass. Her body continued to be just out of my reach.

She smelled like the lavender body wash she used the first time we had s*x. That first night with her was all I hoped it to be, but it still left me unsatisfied.

I assumed she was feeling the same. She wanted me the way I wanted her with me buried deep inside her. I wanted to feel how much her body missed me. All she did was tease me.

“f**k,” I yelled as she abruptly stopped stroking my d**k. She pinched the tip of my c**k firmly and giggled.

I had to work hard not to go apeshit on her for denying my pleasure. Soon her lips wrapped around me and I thought I saw heaven. The pure ecstasy in her eyes was dark and dirty. That was what she wanted.

She was going to chip away at me knowing I’d plan something diabolical for her when she did. My sweet girl was begging to be abused. She sat on my lap and licked my neck. She kissed and nibbled on my ear. I could smell her clean scent clearly with her breast pinned to my neck as we fell over on to the bed.

She wanted me the way I wanted her. If only she loved me the way I loved her. I laughed softly to myself. I must have offended her because she wrapped a long piece of fabric around my neck.

She tied me between her legs and oh was I going to pig out. I wasted no time spelling my name all over her p***y.

She finally let me slide my d**k tip into her wet cunt. She was mine and I made sure that I let her know.