Chapter 30: Filling Up On You

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I rub my fingers across the bridge of my nose as I examine the many documents Lawrence has splayed out in front of me.

It’s nearing five o’clock and already I’ve been down here working ever since we got back around two from that museum visit and the few errands I had to tend to. Demitra’s been working right along with me until her phone rang, proudly announcing a call from her new friend Mark. She wanted to keep working. I told her to take it. She insisted she should finish helping me. I threatened to fire her if she didn’t stop burying herself in her job and get a social life. She took the call.

And so Lawrence, one of my many consultants, came down to take her place and help me run through my staggering list of priorities. My eyes literally burn from all of the fine print they’ve had to take in these past few hours. The only break I received was when Asha came down to ask me about her mother coming to visit and to get my ok. But even that didn’t last long.

After I told her it was fine and I started trying to remedy that ridiculous ache I have for her, Demitra was heard climbing the stairs in her search for me. Normally, I just would have pulled Asha into her room and finished what I started at the museum but I knew that as bad as I needed her, my workload couldn’t be put off to the last minute today. I had—and still do have—a lot to get done. So much crap on my plate these days.

I guess it would help if I could get that crazy girl’s face out of my head for just a brief moment. But I can’t. It’s a battle that I’ve longed since gave up trying to come out on top of. But dammit if that craving to be with her won’t go away! Geez, why does she keep bothering my thoughts; I’m trying to work here!

I almost want to go and punish her myself for making me this—hmm, punish. Wait.

No, dammit! No, no, no, no.

Focus.

I glance back down at the schedule outlining my upcoming trip to Africa. Okay, so first I’m going to stop in Senegal. That’ll be nice. The weather’s so hot there. Asha would hate it. She ​gets hot so eas—ugh!

I slam down my pen and release a low groan, succeeding in surprising my consultant enough to make him jump and center his green-eyed gaze on me. 

“You okay, Mike?” Lawrence questions me curiously.

I nod my head quickly, discarding his concern with a lazy flick of my wrist. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine. What were you sayin’ again?”

Lawrence eyes me skeptically but I ignore him and reach over to slide the form he was examining only moments ago toward me. I quickly let my gaze take in what he had been skimming. This one is just a bunch of numbers. Figures and amounts that I had been rambling on about earlier concerning the income of my next tour. How much I’ll be sending to charity, how much I’ll be sending to Katherine to divide amongst the family. None of it comes to me. Most time I feel guilty taking so much profit and hoarding it for myself, hard-earned or not. Not when there are other people who need it more than me. That would be selfish.

I start crossing out some statistical errors he had made when he obviously decided to be incompetent and stop listening to me. Geez. I didn’t tell him to send three hundred thousand to the Big Brothers and Sisters of America organization. That was to come out of my earnings from my Dangerous album, not my tour money.

Asha has a habit of doing that too. Ignoring me when I give blatant instructions. She thinks it’s funny to irritate me. Sometime she does it on purpose. Just for her own amusement. She annoys the crap out of me. Always has some smart-ass retort to counter my own. Snaps back at me faster than anyone else ever could. Her and her damn opinions on everything. She pisses me off.

Boy, I love that girl.

“Uh…Michael? You sure you’re okay?”

My eyes snap up to look at Lawrence who’s watching my right hand with a raised eyebrow as it skates across his screwed up notes. “What? I said I was fine, didn’t I?”

“Well yeah, man, but you also were doodling on your figures sheet. You just drew two little hearts and a…is that an A?”

My hand instinctively crumples the paper in my hand, my cheeks flushing what I’m sure is a horrible shade of red. One of the main things I hate about my Vitiligo. I’ve always been easily embarrassed but now everyone can spot just how nervous I am when they look at my cheeks. I at least used to be able to hide under the cover of my naturally dark skin. So much for that now.

“Uh, nevermind that.” I say hastily, shoving the newly rumpled up sheet of paper to the side so as to relive his attention from any clue that might suggest I’m dangerously addicted to a girl I only just met a month ago. 

I sit forward in my seat and inquire about my obligations once I land in Senegal. Lawrence immediately jumps into a detailed report on the many stops I’ll be expected to make as soon as my feet hit the granite there. It isn’t until about three minutes in that I find my recently poisoned mind straying once more to the very injection that tainted it in the first place. My entire self feels as though it’s throbbing the way I imagine a junkie’s veins might pulse when his drug of choice begins to subside. I can practically hear her voice in my head. Practically ​feel her hands touching my skin. Practically taste her on my tongue.

I need her.

It’s incredible how deep I let this get. It’s almost scary to see just how hooked I’ve become on her. How reliant I am now on the smell of her skin and the soft yet slightly low tenor that makes up the harmonies to her voice. God, at times I almost want to dial up the nearest rehabilitation clinic and ask them if they have a ward set up for people who crave their college shadows like a second heartbeat. I doubt this is what anyone would refer to as healthy. In fact, I think this is just about the unhealthiest addiction I can think up.

My fingers drum impatiently on the wide surface of mahogany desk separating me and my consultant.

He continues to talk.

My eyes shift slightly to the door before glancing back at the enormous amount of paperwork sprawled before me. The door…the paperwork…door…paperwork.

I bite my lip and look back at Lawrence. I’m surprised to see him looking right at me, one eyebrow cocked in amusement. “Sorry.” I apologize bashfully, realizing that my preoccupied mind may have come off as rude. I straighten up in my seat and attempt to rectify my wandering thoughts. “Uh, go on please.”

But Lawrence just releases a low chuckle, shaking his head as he sits down the long list of potential African hospitals I could make an appearance at. He gives me a small smile and says, “I think a break is in order. We’ve been going at this for hours plus I know you have company coming over a little later. We’ll finish this up sometime this weekend, what do you say boss?”

I bite my lip, trying not to let the full mass of my relief display on my face as I rise slowly from my seat. My limbs instantly crack from the suppressed need to stretch them all of this time. Boy, sometime I just want to say screw it and take a break from all of this vigorous labor everyone, including myself, continues to throw me in the midst of.

Ah, but Michael Jackson doesn’t take breaks.

“Thanks, Lawrence.” I say reaching my hand across the desk so that I can clasp his in a firm handshake. I shrug one shoulder apologetically and offer him a small smile. “Sorry I wasn’t of more help deeper in. I just…have a lot on my mind.”

“Perfectly understandable, Michael.” My consultant nods easily as he stuffs a few file folders back into the safety of his briefcase, leaving my desk just a few papers light of a cluttered disaster. “I always said you work too hard. Top that off with the insomnia and I’m stumped on how you manage at all.”

You forgot to throw in my endless nights of sexing. I imagine that uses up a lot of energy as well. Especially now that I’m with Asha, meaning there’s actually some effort on my part unlike with previous women. Yeah, I wonder how I do it too, Lawrence.

Instead I just answer with a light shrug, “You just have to do what you have to do sometime.”

“I heard that.” He laughs as he walks himself to the door. I stand by my desk and wait for his exit. “Alright, Mike. Well, I’ll call Demitra and see when you have time and then we’ll set up a meeting and finish all the preparation for the trip to Africa. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” I nod casually. He would never guess that right beneath the collected exterior lies an impatient and near frantic addict just waiting for the moment when he’s free to ​go and remedy his painful craving. Nope. The only person aware of such an individual is the very girl who I can’t wait to get my hands on. Right now. This second. Today.

I shift my feet discreetly as Lawrence drops one of the books he had brought along with him. I roll my eyes as he bends down slowly to get it.

Finally he straightens up and looks over to wave a hand at me. “Later, Mike.”

“Later, Lawrence.”

The door closes behind him.

Instantly I release a dramatic breath and place my hand to my head. Finally. Thank God. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to last attempting to concentrate on work when all I can think of is how bad I want to find Asha and let her ease my mind. She’s probably somewhere freaking out over her mother’s arrival in a few hours. If I know her, she’ll be worried to death about how this first meeting goes; nevermind the fact that I’m not being introduced as her lover but rather as the iconic entertainer her mom grew up watching. Asha seems to forget the minor difference in that.

Ah, but I don’t mind. I honestly can’t wait to meet the woman. I’m curious to see who it is that mothered the headstrong, brilliant and compassionate girl that is my Asha. She never really speaks much about her parents, one of the few times being that night she opened up to me completely for the first time. I remember her mentioning once or twice how big a fan her mom is of mine. I’m glad. At least I know we’ll most likely start off on the right foot then.

I don’t really want to admit it because I don’t want to get myself all worked up the way I’m sure Asha is. But I am a little nervous. Just a tad. I feel like I’m in high-school going to my girlfriend’s house for dinner for the first time.

I want her mother’s approval even though she doesn’t know about us yet. I wonder how she’d feel if she did know about us, though. I wonder if she’d support it or if she’d tell her daughter to leave that troubled megastar alone. I wonder how much Asha would heed her warning if her mother should choose the ladder. I wonder if her mom believes all of the ridiculous rumors people have decided to surround me in. Whether she enjoys my music or not, I doubt she’d want her daughter sleeping with some weirdo nutjob who slumbered in hyperbaric oxygen chambers and built shrines of movie stars in his closet.

I shake my head quickly.

I do not want to go there. Everything’s going to be fine. Nothing to flip out over. It’s just her mother. She doesn’t even know I’m sleeping with Asha. She has no idea that I’ve fallen in love with her daughter. No need to get butterflies.

I need to find Asha. If I don’t get to her now then I’ll have to wait all the way until late tonight when her mother leaves before I can have her.

My little hit of her in the museum won’t last me until then. I need to fill up now.

I take quick long-legged strides in order to cross my office in one brief trip. My fingers wound around the golden knob there and turn, successfully heaving the door open. But as soon as I take a step forward, I collide clumsily with a figure standing just outside. She almost falls down but I reach out swiftly and save her from what would surely have been a painful decent downward.

“Dammit, Michael!” Asha mutters, gripping my forearms in an attempt to straighten herself up ​again. “Knock me over, why don’t you?”

“Hey, girl.” I sigh, just standing there and taking her in. She’s still wearing her big Beatles T-shirt and sweatpants, successfully hiding that gorgeous figure of hers. But I don’t mind. She still looks amazing. And I already know exactly what her oversized clothing tries to conceal from untrained eyes. “I was just on my way to find you.”

“Bout time, too. You been in here forever.” She groans, shoving past me and walking into my office. I trail behind her silently, not punishing my brown eyes by making them tear away from her. I keep them locked on her slight frame as she wanders over toward my desk with her hands on her hips. I reach behind me and close the door. “Lawrence gone?”

“Yeah,” I answer vaguely, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as the sight of her arouses a certain friend of mine. Geez. I feel like I’ve started taking some sexual desire inducing medication since I started making love to her. I get horny so easy just being in her presence.

Asha hops onto my desk and crosses her legs, her face contorting into a slight frown. I click the lock on the door before walking over to stand in front of her. I open her legs a little so that I can situate between them and I place my palms gently to her cheeks, allowing my thumbs to slowly stroke the soft skin there. “What’s eating you, baby?”

She sighs and shrugs moodily. “I just…I don’t know. I just want tonight to go good is all.”

I offer her a reassuring smile and touch my lips tenderly to hers. “Everything’s going to be fine, girl. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

She sucks her lip thoughtfully before asking, “Are you gonna have the rides running for her when she gets here? She loves rides. Especially the Ferris Wheel—make sure you have the Ferris Wheel up!”

“I will.” I murmur, moving my hands down to cup the back of her neck gently while I kiss the underside of her jaw. I close my eyes as I inhale the subtle strawberry scent of her shampoo. I love that shampoo. She never swaps it out and so the delicious berry aroma always cloaking her like a veil of perfumed perfection never loses its consistency. She smells exactly the same every day. Just as wonderful now as when I first met her.

“And what about the food?” She sighs, refusing to be strayed from her thoughts despite my lips gently grazing her jaw. “What’s for dinner? My mom loves salads. All kinds. And fish. She always eats fried fish.”

“Then we’ll have fish.” I say. I trail my hands down her neck and shoulders all the way down to the hem of her shirt meanwhile slipping my tongue out to create intricate patterns on her smooth collarbone.

“And…what about…movies?” Asha mumbles, her eyes closing as I began to suck on her neck like a vampire testing the waters before sinking in his fangs. She unconsciously places her palms behind her on the flawless mahogany she’s sitting on, leaning back just a bit as she tilts her chin, giving me much better access to do what I please to the skin there. “My mom likes…movies.”

“Then we’ll watch a movie.” I answer in a whisper before placing my lips lightly to her throat and creating suction.

I probably shouldn’t be doing this. Marking up her neck knowing that her mom will be here in a matter of hours. But I can’t help it. I love leaving bruises on her skin. Little traces of me on ​her. A few minor marks that serve to show that she belongs to me. Maybe one or two permanent just so that if—heaven forbid—anyone else gets to see her the way only I have…they know who rightfully claimed this body long before they ever got the chance to. She’s mine. No one else’s.

I pull away slightly, just enough to take in my art. Just how I envisioned. It’s red and circular right there in the center of her throat. My mark. My claim.

“C’mere, girl.” I mumble, placing a hand to the back of her head and bringing her forward for a kiss.

I massage those soft lips with mine for a while, sucking and nipping at them. She releases a quiet moan and that’s when I choose to use the slight ‘O’ of her lips to my advantage and I ease my tongue into the hot warmth of her mouth. I lick her tongue teasingly and she grins against my lips before reaching up to dig her hands in my hair and drag me closer. We nip, suck, and lick at one another’s mouths for a while before my hands grow impatient and began to tug at her T-shirt.

I break our intense make-out session just long enough to pull the shirt over her head and throw it behind me on the floor. Then I return to kissing her passionately while my hands roam the hot skin of her torso. I move my kisses south as I caress her shoulders with my tongue, letting myself get drawn into the beautiful sounds of her moaning. God, it’s like music to my ears in every sense of the phrase.

I want more of it.

My impatience flashing once again, I quickly move my hands to the hem of her sweat pants. I wound my arm around her middle and lift her just enough to slide the pants down to her knees, then I discard them in the same fashion as I did the oversized shirt she wore. My eyes widen a little as I take in the wet spot drenching through the middle of her purple panties.

She’s literally soaking. I can practically smell her arousal just as clearly as I can see it. Mike Jr. instantly raises his head to check out the view through my denim pants.

“Gosh, girl…” I sigh, biting my lip as I reach a hand out to feel. As soon as I touch my fingers to her through her panties, Asha shivers and tosses her head back letting me know just how bad she wants it.

“Michael…more.” She whines, already worked up just from my earlier caressing.

I grin teasingly at her. “Ooh, I love it when you beg. Do it again.”

At that she opens her eyes just enough to scowl at me. “I am not begging you! Just do it already.”

I bite my lip and shake my head at her. “Nope. Not until you beg.”

“Well then I guess you’re screwed then, aren’t you.” Asha says stubbornly.

I should have known she wouldn’t give in easily. Fine then. I don’t mind making her bend to my will. This’ll probably be fun. I let two fingers rub her just barely through the thin material of her underwear. She closes her eyes and groans, her hips instinctively lifting to increase the contact. But I don’t let her. I pull back and continue to trace the outline of her mound just enough to get her crazy but not enough to satisfy the need building up down there.

“Come on girl,” I tease, pressing down on her before returning to the agonizing stroking. “All you have to do is beg. Just say, ‘Michael please, please, please make me feel good’ and you ​can have all…of…this…lovin.” I wink moving my hips suggestively, the movement drawing her hazel eyes like a magnet to metal.

She sucks her lip before looking up to glare at me. “How about you just give it to me or I take this stupid bobble head and throw it at your cranium.”

“No! Not Abe!” I say dramatically, reaching out to snatch my Abraham Lincoln bobble head from her grip and walking over to set it down protectively on my bookcase, out of her reach. “I got this in D.C. from the Whitehouse like three years ago! What are you, evil?”

“No, I’m horny!” She whines, thumping her fists on the desk she’s sitting on. Her dangling feet kick a little as she throws her tantrum, looking incredibly adorable but also incredibly sexy in nothing but her underwear.

I grin and wander back over to the desk. I place my large hands on her knees and push outward, spreading them just enough so that I can step in between. I glance down and raise my eyes slowly up to look at her through my lashes, my dark bangs falling in front of the brown just enough to invoke that look that wins her over every time. Licking my lips, I say quietly, “Beg.”

She reaches up and shoves my shoulders in frustration. “No, damn you! I am not going to beg you for sex. I have pride.”

“Well I have this guy,” I say moving forward just a little bit so that the rough denim of my crotch rubs up against the fabric of her moist panties. She immediately lets out this weird high noise in her nose and arches her back. Boy, she feels so damn good. I bite my lip to hold back the low groan that threatened to tumble forth the moment my clothed manhood came into contact with the now wet material.

I can hardly wait myself. I feel my cock hardening uncomfortably the longer I stand here without really touching her. But I can’t give in. I like winning too much.

“Come on, babygirl…” I murmur leaning in to brush my lips along her jaw. I touch my hand gently to her center, my fingers dampening instantly, and I pet her like a child might do a beloved cat. Smooth and long strokes. God, help me. “I’m thirsty, Asha…let me have a drink.”

“Then drink, Michael.” She sighs wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Then do what I tell you to.”

“Stop being such a control freak and maybe we can get this over with. I still have my mother to think about.” She snaps back sassily.

“No, you don’t. You have me to think about. And I say…beg.” I move aside her panties and let my fingers stroke her lower lips roughly. Uh…man, she’s so wet for me. She wants it. If anyone can break her will, it’s me. “Just tell me what you want from me and I’ll ease my thirst like you didn’t know I could. Just do it, girl. You know you want to; quit being such a pain in the ass.”

“You quit…being…such a goddamn…control fre—uhh!” She tosses her head back as I pinch her clitoris between my fingers. I tug and massage the soft fleshy piece of her until she releases a small shriek. I’m about fit to burst right about now. It’s no wonder my penis hasn’t shot through my jeans and jumped inside of her already.

​“I said beg.” I hiss in her ear, simultaneously biting down on her earlobe and pinching her womanhood once again.

She moans desperately and grabs two handfuls of my shirt on my shoulders. “Please, please, please make me feel good, Michael!”

I grin. I knew she’d give into me. Yeah. I’m not just a legendary performer on stage. I do a pretty awesome job off of it as well. Not to boast or anything.

“With pleasure.” I smirk.

I reach behind her and with one long sweep of my arm, I knock all of the papers and folders and junk that I’ll no doubt need later on to the floor. But that stuff’s the last thing on mind right now with my beautiful girlfriend sitting half naked on my desk. I can always clean up some other time. “Lay back for me, girl.” I instruct, helping her to move backwards on my desk.

She swings her legs up obediently and rests her bare back down on the cool mahogany. She shivers slightly as her skin makes contact but she’s more concerned with what I’m doing as her eyes follow me on my slight move to stand by her feet. I don’t say anything as I grab hold of her ankles and swing her with me as I walk to sit in my high-backed leather chair. She props up on her elbows as I take a seat. Her hazel gaze is locked intently on my hands as I rub them up and down her calves soothingly. The slight quiver her body makes every time I touch her makes me smile.

My, how she’s changed. When she first arrived here she’d probably stab me with a machete that she rented from a random guy on the street just for suggesting that in four weeks I’d have her sitting on my desk with her legs spread, begging for me to please her. Yeah…my head would be have been spinning on the ground somewhere. And just the same, I would have fell out laughing, wiped my eyes, and inquired seriously about your mental stability if you told me I’d be madly in love with her in the same amount of time.

But boy am I glad that things didn’t turn out how we expected. Now that I have her, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to go without her for more than a day. I crave her voice and smile just as bad as I do her perfect sex. The way she gives her mind, body, and heart to me without any hesitation is what tugs at me the most. How easy she allows herself to relax around me makes me love her even more. Makes me need her even more. Ache for her even more.

“Oh, girl, I need you. Get over here.” I groan, pulling her by the ankles closer to me. I dip my fingers inside of her panties and quickly slide them down, no time for gradualism. Her mom will be here in a couple hours and I still have to go tell the cooks what to prepare and find something decent to put on. I do want to make a good impression.

I guess that would be out of the window though if she found out exactly what I did to her daughter before she got here. Heh heh…um, talk about awkward.

I bite my lip and release a low moan as I eye the dripping treasure before me. Not able to take the suspense any longer, I grip her under her thighs and drag her the rest of the way, closing the gap between my mouth and her hot center. I start off by placing gentle butterfly kisses on her mound, earning me a series of soft gasps, before my impatience once again gets the best of me and I stick my tongue out and run it from the bottom of her womanhood to the top, ​touching along the little thatch of curls there.

“Mi-Mi-Michael…” She shivers, her hands instinctively reaching out to bury themselves in my hair.

I answer her pleasurable cry by licking her up a little more before moving my tongue to her small opening. I plunge my tongue inside, dousing it in her sugary sweet essence causing my eyes to close as I savor the taste. Her hips begin to writhe beneath my face to the point where I have to place a restraining hand on her pelvis just to keep her still long enough to eat. As her cries begin to rise, I swiftly pull away just long enough to snatch the pillow from behind my back that I use for support when I’m in here working long nights.

I reach up and give it to her and she wastes no time in biting down on it. I return to my meal.

Feeling the junkie in me coming forward, my veins pulse and my heart quickens. I recognize this ridiculous excitement that comes when an addict finally stumbles upon on their favorite drug after long hours without it, taking hold of me in a frenzied grasp. I stab my tongue in and out of her as she muffles her screams in the safety of the pillow I offered to her. Sensing how near she is and thirsty for her juices, I bury my face nose deep into her warmth and shake my head back and forth moaning into her as I graze my teeth over her clit. Not enough to really hurt her. Just enough to send her over the edge.

She bites down hard on the fluffy black pillow as the muffled ring of my name dropping from her lips illustrates her orgasm in vivid detail. I sigh longingly as she spews my medicine out like a fountain. “That’s it, girl…lemme drink…” I murmur against her as I take in everything she releases.

Pure. Heaven.

I sit back in my seat with a breathless gasp as I finally come up for air. I smirk when I see Asha leaning back on my desk with her bra-clad chest heaving like she just ran ten miles. Wiping my wet chin, I get to my feet with a little laugh.

“Nah-uh, don’t fall out on me yet, girl. I still have something else to give you before we have to get up outta here.” I grin, gripping her by her shoulders and pulling her to sit up.

She doesn’t respond as her hazel eyes jet down to my belt. I glance over her head to get a look at the pricey grandfather clock standing tall and majestic in the corner of the room. 5:02.

Damn. I don’t have time to play with her like I normally like to. We’re already running behind schedule.

Biting my lip, I look down at her and sigh, my face forming into a pout without my knowledge. “We have to make this quick, girl.” I say in disappointment.

She glances back and looks at the clock as well. Her eyebrows shoot up and she lets out a gasp. “Oh my gosh! She’ll be here in two hours and I haven’t even told Julian what to cook, my room needs to be straightened, I haven’t even practiced how I’m going to behave around you. I have to go get everything together!”

She makes to hop off of the desk but I place my palms down on either side of her, successfully blocking her exit. “Not so fast, girl. I ain’t done with you yet.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes lightly on my shoulders. “Move, Cookie Monster. I still have to get rea—”

“Asha, it’s your mother.” I stress to her with an amused smile. She makes to argue but I only ​lean forward to touch her lips with mine in order to silence her. I lean away and shake my head patiently. “Not the president of the United States, girl. Your mother. Why you flippin’ all out anyways?”

She glares at me. “I am not flipping out. I just want to make sure everything goes alright is all. She is meeting the man she’s been a major fan of basically her whole life. I want it to be memorable for her.”

I smile gently at her, my hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of her hair neatly behind her ear. “That or you’re just freaked because you know you’re secretly dating the biggest celebrity on the planet and you’re nervous about how well your lover will get on with your mother.”

She sucks on her lip, her lowered gaze revealing just how right my guess is. Her hands fiddle nervously with each other in her lap and for a moment she looks very much like a little girl sitting in the principal’s office worried about what her mother’s gonna say when she goes back home that night. I rest my palm gently on her cheek, allowing my thumb to stroke the soft skin there in assurance.

“Asha. Girl, look at me.” I say and she obeys with a small sigh. I lean forward and place a soft kiss on her forehead. I look into her eyes. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

She sucks her lip in. “Promise?”

I smile. “Swear.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck, dragging me in close so that she can kiss me. I close my eyes and allow myself to just melt into it for a minute. Her lips touching mine equal heaven. I hear her moan. She’s just gotten a good taste of herself on my tongue and I know for a fact that it’s turning her on. Me, myself, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last like this. My jeans have become the most uncomfortable fit in the last ten minutes or so. It’s like I just went three sizes down in the crotch area.

I break our kiss, my forehead still pressed to hers. “Asha…I’m sorry but would you mind terribly if I asked to make love to you right now?” I ask, showing her my big puppy dog eyes. “I know you want to go get prepared but I need you, girl. I promise I’ll make it quick! Pleeaaassee.”

She laughs and palms her forehead in exasperation. “Ugh. You’re such a freakin’ insatiable pervert, you know that?”

I only smile and, taking that as a green-light, start undoing the buckle of my belt, my dark eyes trained on her. The strange and ferocious creature called Lust just found his way back into my body and he’s looking for his most cherished victim yet. I see the slow movement of her throat as she swallows, the hypnotizing flexing of my fingers as they unzip my pants holding her captive. I bite my lip and push down my jeans and boxers just enough for Mini Mike to bob out, leaving my pants gathered around my lower thighs. He’s stiff and straight and ready to take on whatever comes his way.

I love how she always holds her breath and widens her eyes every time she sees it. Like she just can’t get over exactly what it is I’ve been presenting to her these past few days. Hm. Maybe she’ll never get over it. I know I probably won’t get over how delicious she tastes in my mouth….mmmhh, so delicious.

I lip my bottom lip to gather the last remnants of her flavor lingering there before taking a step ​forward so that I’m breathing her air. At least, I would be if she was actually breathing at all. Her chest is still with lack of inhalation and she seems to be waiting for something. I have an idea what that something might be.

“Is this what you want, girl?” I breathe in her ear, holding my hard member in my hand and stroking him along her lower lips teasingly. I actually have to grit my teeth in order not to lose it right now. I know. It’s pretty pathetic how much control this girl has over me. I wasn’t exaggerating.

“Yesss…” She sighs, gripping my shoulders in her hands while she tries to create a gentle rhythm with her hips to my soft stroking.

Still holding it, I run my penis from top to bottom over her center to the point that the tip is already glistening with her arousal. Boy, I absolutely love how excited I get this girl. Asha told me the other night that before me she’s never been turned on by any other guy’s advances. She said they just never impressed her. But somehow I’m not only able to get her turned on—I’m able to get her turned on to the point that she literally gets small streams of arousal running down her leg.

Is it bad that I feel overtly arrogant about this fact? I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t do the exact same thing to me. I get hard for her when she just looks at me whereas with everyone else, it usually takes about ten minutes of them rubbing me to actually get excited enough to have sex. It’s a pretty sad statistic considering all of the lovers I’ve had.

“Mmm, Michael please…” She begs into my ear causing me to swallow back a low growl. Man, the things I would do to this girl if we had time. Just a couple more hours in here and I’d have her floating on air for the rest of her life.

Hastily, I lean away from her and ask in a hoarse sort of whisper, “That pill? It takes a little while to work doesn’t it?” I remember us talking about her going to get some last night but I don’t necessarily remember how they work. Don’t want to make the same mistake I did on our first night. That probably wouldn’t go as smoothly with her as it did the first time.

She sucks her lip and I can’t help but notice a slight hesitation before she answers. It was a brief one but it was a hesitation none the less. Before I have a chance to ponder much on it, she nods her head and says quietly, “Yeah…about a month or so.”

I nod my head and lean away a bit so that I can reach over to one of my drawers. I pull it open and dig through the contents for an impatient moment before I find what it is I’m looking for. I hold up the square pack for her to take and—I don’t know what’s going on with me right now—but I swear I see a flash of disappointment that quickly disappears as she takes hold of the condom packet.

I lower my eyebrows curiously at her as I watch her small hands tear the wrapper open. “Asha, what—”

“Shh.” She whispers placing her finger to my lips but her eyes aren’t really looking at me. She finishes opening the paper before tossing it on the floor impatiently. I eye her questioningly, trying vainly to figure out something about her that she doesn’t want me to know. Normally I can do it. If I have enough time and pay enough attention…but as of right now I have neither time nor attention to spare on anything but her hands as they touch me.

I bite my lip and close my eyes as her fingers wounds around my cock so that she can slide the ​condom on for me. I lean into her neck and bite down gently on the skin there when she runs her hands along my shaft in order to assure the condom is secure. Finally she draws them away from the sensitive tendons down there, and moves to dig them in my hair.

“Come on, Michael…and make this fast, dude. We don’t have all day.” She snaps playfully in my ear.

“Don’t tell me what to do, girl.” I say back.

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it, choir boy?”

“Do you really wanna know the answer to that?”

“Unless you’re too chicken to give it, Mr. Innocent.”

“Oh, girl. I’m finna make you choke on those words.” I growl into her lips.

“Yeah righ—oooh!”

I push into her with ease thanks to the sopping wet trail her arousal left for me. She immediately bites down on my shoulder as I thrust all the way inside not pausing at all on my journey to her core. I close my eyes and stop once I get fully within her. Goddamn this girl feels amazing! Since she only just recently lost her virginity, it’s taking some time for her body to become accustomed to my size completely so she’s still extremely tight. At the rate we’ve been going at it, though, it shouldn’t be long before her love-cave is no longer surprised by the frequent visitor it’s been receiving as of late.

“Damn, girl.” I groan against her cheek as I hold my position in order to gain some sort of self-control so that I don’t just explode right now. Some sex that would be. “You feel…soo…f*cking good…”

She half laughs and half moans. A funny sound. “It’s so funny…hearing you…curse, Michael.” She sighs into my shoulder. “You don’t do it as much as you did…before we became friends.”

Yeah. That’s because the longer I’ve been with you, the more of my old self I started regaining. The old self that didn’t like using such foul language unless completely and utterly overwhelmed by something. The old self I knew you’d like more than the jerk I introduced you too the first day we met.

But I don’t say any of that. I just kiss her cheek and pull out of her only to thrust back in hard. She bites into my shoulder again and I know that when this is all done, I’m going to have teeth-marks there. I can’t wait to check them out.

“Baby, I want you to do something for me.” I say, gripping her bottom and lifting her off of the desk for a moment. She sucks her lip and examines me through curious, half-lidded eyes.

“Anything you say.”

And the way she says it has my heart stuttering a bit. Just by listening to the over-layering accents she puts in that tone and in those words…I know how much she means that. How deeply rooted that statement is to her core. She really would do anything I ask her to. That’s how bad her need for me has gotten. That’s how much she wants me. And it feels good…being wanted. Being desired in the way my fame has never quite managed to satisfy for me. Be wanted for who I am…not what I can do.

I like that. How she makes me feel like I’m worth something more than all my celebrity has bought me.

​How she makes me feel needed.

I bite my lip before pulling hers into a passionate kiss. I pull back but stay close enough for her to taste my words as they fall from my mouth in a low whisper, “I want you to ride me.”

Her breath hitches and I know her well enough to know that it’s partly out of arousal and partly out of nervousness. Her cheeks change color to reflect her inner embarrassment at my statement. I’ve never asked her to do anything like this to me before. I’ve taken everything pretty basic the past few days, wanting to get her used to sex in general before I got all fancy on her. But right now, I’m just so horny and so in need of her that all I can think is what better a time to learn a new trick?

“I…” She swallows and clears her throat a little. “Um…I don’t…I don’t know…how.”

She says the last word quietly as though she didn’t really want me to hear it, her eyes casting downward. But I can only smile and think how freaking adorable she looks to me. I love this. I love being the one to teach her. I can never get over how grateful and how awesome I feel knowing that I’m the only one she’s shared this with. I love how hard she made me work for it. I love how she didn’t just give it to me the first time I asked like everyone else does. I love everything about her. I’m so in love with her.

“I’ll show you…” I whisper softly as I kiss her lips. Then I sit her down for a second as I kick off my loafers and hop onto my now cleared desk and lay down, my skin protected from the cool surface thanks to me still being fully clothed. I grab her hand and tug her over, “Climb on, cowgirl.” I tease wiggling my eyebrows playfully.

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide that beautiful shy smile I alone seem to be able to pull from her. Placing her hands on the smooth mahogany, she uses her upper-body strength to hoist herself up on the desk. I put my hands on her hips as she timidly swings one leg over to straddle my waist.

Once she’s kneeling over me, I note how she sucks her lip in and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear self-consciously. “So…um, what now? Do I just…sit?”

I grin and, biting my lip, I grab my length and guide it home. She closes her eyes and tosses her head back as I rub my head to her opening. “Yeah, girl…sit.”

Sucking her top lip in habitually, she slowly begins to descend on my shaft. I groan and lift my chin up to the ceiling as I’m once again being squeezed by her hot, moist inner walls.

“Oh my gosh…” She moans in pleasant surprised as she continues moving downward trying to fill herself up with my size. Finally she gets down as far as she can and just sits there, her hands coming up to balance herself on my chest. “Geez, I can fill everything like this! It’s incredible!”

I open my eyes and smirk up at her. “Yeah. Just wait until you start moving.”

At that she eyes me in horror. “Move? But…I don’t know…I mean how should I…” She trails off embarrassedly.

“It’s easy girl,” I say patiently, taking one of her hands from my chest and kissing it. “Just like dancing.”

“But I can’t dance.” She complains.

“Sure you can! Everyone can dance!”

“Sorry to shock you, King of Pop, but not everyone was born with feather light feet.” She ​deadpans.

I release a high-pitched giggle and touch my hands to her hips again. “Good thing we’re not using our feet then, huh?”

She pulls a face at me, “Ha-ha.”

Grinning, I take the initiative and start rolling my hips up into her. I grunt and slam my eyelids over my chocolate gaze in pleasure. I’ll never get tired of this. I want to bury myself in this very same opening for the rest of my life. Feel these very same walls around me each morning I wake up. I love this. I love her.

“Oh—oh—oooh!” Asha gasps out as I gently pound up into her. I grab her hips and guide her down on me like the lead in some exotic dance routine.

I keep pulling her down and moving her hips until soon she gets it herself. Unconsciously she begins rolling on top of me in her search for more pleasure and in her keen desire to satisfy her need of me. I toss my head back and groan her name out under my breath as she lifts and lowers herself down on my length. Moving back and forth. Rolling her hips the way I showed to her only minutes ago.

“Uh, Asha, don’t stop, girl…don’t…ever…stop.” I moan as she continues to bounce on me. I hope we’re not being very loud. At least I know these walls were built especially thick for when I have serious classified business to attend to. I can only hope they’re thick enough to keep her pleasured cries from the ears of anyone passing by. Once again, I’m glad my office is on an isolated part of the first floor. Not so much traffic to worry about.

“Oooh, Michael, Michael, Michael!” She cries out as I start pounding harder up into her, meeting her beat for beat.

“Mmm, say my name, girl.” I sigh, grabbing her hand and kissing it as I continue to work with her on our journey to the top of Mt. Climax. She obeys me without issue when I discover this one particular spongy spot inside of her that I’ve developed a great knack for finding when I want to. I seize hold of her waist and bite my lip as I slam my shaft into that spot over and over again with as much force as my slowly fatiguing body can muster.

I turn my head just slightly so that I can look at the clock again. Shoot. 5:53.

Time to end this adventure.

I quickly bring my hand in between our joined hips and skillfully rub her clitoris in order to speed up her release. I stroke her hard before taking my index finger and easing it into her right beside my penis. That does it.

I reach my hand up and cover her mouth just as she releases my name in a soft scream along with her vaginal fluids. I hold my hand there, muffling her calming moans of pleasure as her body jerks harshly above me. I close my eyes and grunt, my hand gripping her thigh hard (she’s going to have some finger marks there in the morning) as I feel my own release coming up.

“Oh…God. I love you so much, Asha!” I whine out as I feel myself exploding hard into the safety of the condom. I kind of wish this damn thing wasn’t here. I’d love to feel how it was that night I got to experience everything leave me and flow into her all in one smooth trip. “You’re my everything, girl. Everything. I want you in my life forever. I need you, Asha. God, I need you so bad!"

​She cries out one last time before her body falls forward onto mine just as my trembling comes to a still.

We lay there for a moment, our minds and souls taking their sweet time separating the way our bodies have yet to do.

I didn’t mean to say all of that. I don’t like telling her how I really feel too much. I’ve only told her I loved her out loud maybe twice since that first night. I mostly just think it to myself. I still get the sense of taboo whenever the words come out like they just did. Maybe I’m still a little scared. But maybe—over time—she can ease my fear completely. But it’s certainly going to take some time.

And some stability. I definitely don’t need my heart on the rocks any time soon while I’m just learning how to open it up again.

Asha leans back a little, her breath laboring as she stares into my eyes with sweat glistening on her forehead like the silent rain that paints the windows panes during a storm. I brush back her hair and place a tender kiss to her forehead. She sighs. “I love you, Michael.”

I bite my lip and rest my cheek to her hair. I don’t respond. I said everything I can stand to say in one day.

Instead I close my eyes and listen to her breathing, savoring the brief moments of pause that come right after intimacy.

In my head I repeat the words I uttered just moments ago, not daring to say it aloud again.

You’re my everything, girl. Everything. I want you in my life forever. I need you, Asha.

& & &

I tuck my hands behind my back as I stroll lightly through my zoo, Demitra at my side. After our little escapade in my office, Asha promptly flipped out, punched me in the arm for making her waste time, pulled her clothes on, and sprinted out of there like she had a fire blazing on the soles of her feet. She ran to the kitchen to request a few foods that her mother would like before tearing off to her room to wash the scent of sex from her skin and also to find something decent to wear including makeup for the new hickie I created on her neck.

She did curse me out for that. But I didn’t mind.

It didn’t take me that long to get dressed. Admittedly I did change outfits a couple times after my shower, contemplating how her mother would react to each one. I felt those butterflies flying into my gut before I quickly decided on something, frustrated with the knowledge that I’m so worked up about this. I don’t like trying to make someone like me. I’d rather just do whatever the hell I want and let them take it as they please. But sometime I can never quite ignore my secrete desperation to be accepted.

I hate that feeling. Because I know it’s always there whether I own up to it or not. Because I know it’s my greatest weakness.

I’m kind of irritated with how I can’t ignore it as of right now. How there’s no denying to myself how much I hope this night goes well. I really do want this woman to like me. She’s the only person in Asha’s life that she trusts besides me. She’s bonded to her and so therefore, I should form a bond with her as well.

It’s currently six-fifty and I decided that a walk would sooth my tangled nerves better than the ​endless pacing in my bedroom did. After calling Demitra up to my room for her opinion on my last choice of clothing and getting her approval, I decided to leave on the red oxford over a white t-shirt and black pants. My fedora sits on my head, neater then the usual days where I just throw it up there crookedly. Black slacks are ironed and my I’m wearing a newer pair of loafers, kicking aside my more worn pair for the evening.

All in all, I’m ready.

And nervous as hell.

Trying to get my mind off of my anxiety before I end up blowing our cover, I casually wrap my arm around Demitra’s shoulders as she leans away from the extending neck of one my giraffes. “So Demi, how’s it going with Mitch?”

She turns away from the tall animal to shove me playfully in the side. “It’s Mark, Michael. I happen to know you have a very keen memory so don’t act all forgetful.”

I laugh and pull her back into my side as we continue to step on the patches of fading sunlight knifing through the tower of trees overheard. It reminds me vaguely of my Billie Jean video. Stepping on all of the lighted parts of granite. “Okay, my bad girl. How’re things with Mark.”

She grins and faces ahead again with an amused shake of her head. Then she sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s…not exactly what I’m looking for. I think I’m going to call it off with him.”

I glance down at her, feeling the corners of my mouth turn down in a frown. “Why? What he do?”

Demitra looks up at me with furrowed brows. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“That—that thing you do.” She says gesturing her hand at me as though what I do is sitting in front of me waiting on me too acknowledge it. “That protective, possessive thing you do whenever I mention a guy. It’s like this tone to your voice every time like you’re just waiting on a reason to go kick their ass or something!”

She laughs.

I shake my head in surprise. “I do not.” I say defensively. “I only asked you why you were breaking up with him. I never said anything about kicking his ass…although,” I add touching my chin thoughtfully. “He did always have a look about him I didn’t like. Yeah, he had a funny thing going on I don’t trust.”

My reply only serves to amuse her more. She rolls her blues eyes. “You’re so funny, Michael. Do you realize that all of my past dates have had ‘a funny look about them that you don’t trust’ since we became good friends? And then you always jump up asking what they did whenever I say I’m ending it.”

“I don—” I stop and think about it. Hm. I guess I do always tend to do that. Interesting. I shrug my shoulders, annoyed with being wrong, and ask grumpily, “Well I care about you. What’s wrong with that?”

She smiles and wraps her arm around my waist as we pass my tiger cage. I guide her over to it so that I can slip my hand in between the bars and stroke Shere Khan’s nose with my fingertips. He likes when I do that. If anyone else tries it, he growls and they run off scared to death. It’s pretty funny. But he wouldn’t do anything harmful, despite my naming him after the villainous tiger in Jungle Book. He just likes to intimidate people because he thinks it’s ​hilarious. He’s actually a very gentle creature.

“Nothing’s wrong with that.” Demitra answers my question as we continue on the path. “In fact I think it’s rather cute. Darnnit, how come I can’t find a good guy like you? Remind me again why we’re not dating, Michael.”

At that I grin. This has been our line for years whenever one of our relationships falls through. We vent about our frustrations and then we end it all by inquiring exasperatedly why we never got together considering how easy we get along. I pull her into my side again and lay my cheek on her blond hair as I laugh and answer, “Because we don’t connect on that front, girl. ‘Member?”

She groans and stops to look at me. “Ugh. Try it again.”

I giggle. “No, girl! It’s not gonna change!”

“You don’t know that! It could have changed by now!”

I shake my head and roll my eyes with a mock exasperated sigh. “Fine, get over here. But I’m telling you, Demi, if it didn’t work the first couple of times; it’s not going to work now.”

“Stop being such a pessimist.” She says sternly.

I stick my tongue out at her. She smiles. Then rolling my eyes, I place my hands on her cheeks the way I did the last time we attempted this almost a year ago. She closes her eyes and leans toward me. We press lips. We hold it for a moment. Then I open my eyes. I’m surprised to see her peeking one eye open too. She quickly shuts them. I can’t help it. I giggle.

“Michael!” She groans trying not to laugh as she shoves me away. “You stink! You could have at least pretended to try.”

“I diiid!” I whine through my chuckles. “Honest.”

She glares at me for a moment. But then we both fall out. Adjusting her blond hair that’s now falling in a long ponytail down her back instead of her usual neat bun, Demitra shoves me with her shoulder as though this was my fault. “This stinks. How come I manage to find the sweetest guy and it turns out kissing him is like kissing my big brother?”

“I know. Where is the chemistry when you need it?” I grin, as we link elbows heading back for the house.

She shakes her head with a chuckle. “I guess we’re both doomed to bad relationships.”

At that I bite my lip. I get quiet for a moment, pondering how true that seemed only weeks ago. I thought for sure my luck was just always going to be crappy when it came to my personal life—in order to balance the extreme public life I have. I assumed I was just going to have to atone for being so famous. I understood that. It made sense.

But then she came along.

“Demi, what do you think about Asha?” I ask curiously as we continue our walk.

She shrugs. “She’s a sweet girl. Pretty and straightforward. She seems to know exactly what she wants, though. I remember when I first asked her what her Major was and she just went off into this strict and matter-of-fact speech. It almost sounded like she was reading someone else’s lines.” Then she added thoughtfully, “But she is sweet. Very bright easy to love.”

I bite my lip and grin a little. “Yeah…yeah she is.” Demitra stops walking. I turn and look down at her. “What?”

“What’s that?” She asks pointing at my face.

​I scrunch my eyebrows in puzzlement. “What’s what?”

“That! That look you just got.”

I roll my eyes and place my hands on my hips, growing annoyed with her lack of detail. “What are you talking about, girl? Stop speaking in riddles!”

“Michael, don’t play with me.” She says folding her arms as her eyes trace skillfully over my face, an investigator carefully studying a vital clue. “I’ve been seeing that look on your face for a few days now! You get it whenever…whenever…” Her eyebrows shoot up just as her mouth drops.“Michael!”

“What?” I snap.

She shakes her head at me and then places her hand on her hip like a mother who just caught her child sticking their hand in the cookie jar. I shift on my feet a little. “Are you sleeping with that girl?”

I bite my lip. Turn my head. Kick my foot.

“Michael!” She cries running a hand down her face with a groan. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re sleeping with your twenty-year-old shadow. That’s just…that’s swell. That’s just peachy.” She mumbles shaking her head.

I don’t respond.

She turns on me with that look on her face that means she has something she feels she needs to say. So I set my expression to a passive stare and I wait for it.

“Michael, that’s it.” She says pointing her hand at me. “That is it!” She turns and walks a few steps away before stomping back over to me, her rushed thoughts making her restless I guess. She sighs and throws her hands up. “Michael, I haven’t said anything to you about this because at the end of the day I am your employee and I realize that your personal life is none of my businesses.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” I agree dully.

“But I also realize that this has gotten out of hand!” She continues. She sighs, her palm coming to rest on her forehead as she searches for the right words. She looks at me. “Michael, I care about, alright? I’m also your friend and I’ve watched you go through ups and downs for five years. I’ve seen that sweet, lovable guy turn into this mean, heartless jerk in an instant. I’ve watched you use up all of these women like you have absolutely no respect for them at all—”

“I never said I didn’t respect them.” I say, growing irritated.

At that she gives me this exasperated look and says, “I’ve seen them, Michael! I’ve had to help them gather their clothes in the morning with tears in their eyes because you suddenly decided that it was okay to break hearts! I had to tell them that no, you weren’t going to call them the next day and that yes, they were just invited over for your sexual satisfaction. How do you think that made me feel as a women, Michael? To have to assist you in being an asshole just because it’s my job?”

I don’t answer. Instead I bite my lip and scowl at the pavement below us.

I feel it. That stupid feeling in my chest that I used to wish I could turn off like a switch. That painful throbbing that I experience every time I think about what I’m doing—what I’ve done. Guilt. I try so hard to ignore it, to justify it as best I can. But I can never get rid of it. It only worsened with every girl that I pushed out of my door this past year. Whenever I had to look ​in her eyes and see myself in them…see them experience what I’ve been experiencing my whole life. Whenever I had to watch them lose hope the same way I lost hope when the women I thought loved me decided that I wasn’t enough. I told myself that’s what they deserved. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

I try not to hate myself when I think about how much I now resemble my father in that way. I try not to grow ill with disgust just looking in the mirror and seeing my bitter reflection staring back.

I try not to hate myself.

It doesn’t always work.

“I know you were hurt, Michael.” Demitra says softly, cutting into my thoughts. I raise my eyes and catch her blue ones. “I know you’ve gotten your heart broken so many times. But I can’t stand back and let you do this to this girl, Michael. She’s young. Two years fresh from high-school and you’re pulling her into this sick game you started? No. I’m not going to watch you screw her for your amusement and then break her heart before she has a chance to use it! I can’t do it anymore.”

I bite my lip and blink. I can’t find words to tell her how bad I feel. To make her understand the self-loathing I never lost since I sexed and dumped my first victim nearly nine months ago. I can’t begin to describe how it tore secretly at me during every sexual encounter and how I just pushed it back because I didn’t want to deal with my resentment. I don’t have words to explain to her how much it hurts when you get your heart crushed every day from people you thought you knew. Words that express just how lonely and angry I get sometime aren’t coming to me.

Sometime I feel like the whole world is kicking me and all I can do is lay there and take it. Sometime I just want to lash out and kick it and everything in it right back. I don’t want to take it anymore. I don’t want to lie still until it kills me. And then I hate myself for wanting revenge. I hate myself for even thinking it.

I don’t know how to tell her all of this.

So instead I just shake my head and respond quietly, “I’m not jus f*cking her, Demitra. I swear I’m not.”

“Then what are you doing, Michael?” She asks me disbelievingly. “What can you say that makes taking advantage of your position as her mentor alright? What can you say that justifies having sex with a young girl here for a school project? What can you say?”

I shake my head as I try to swallow the lump forming in my throat. My answer is the only one that comes to mind. I don’t know if it’s enough. I don’t know if it justifies anything. I just know that it’s the truth.

“Only that I’m in love with her.”

Her eyebrows rise. I know I’ve surprised her. And I know that she can see in my face just how serious I am. Then I see her features morph into concern. For me. Demitra’s always concerned for me. She’s one of the few people that genuinely care if I’m happy or not. She sighs. Takes my hand.

“Don’t get your heart broken, Michael.” She tells me with a serious face. “I don’t want to lose you in some shell of yourself again. Just…just be sure. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

​I blink. Duck my head because I feel my eyes watering up. “Thank you, Demi.”

She sighs and nods her head. Without saying a word she links our arms back up and we head to the door in a companionable silence. All of a sudden we hear Asha’s voice rang out from inside of the house we’re slowly approaching, “Mom! It’s great to see you!” Her mother must have finally arrived. I swallow a little.

Demitra looks at me. I look back at her, waiting for some indication that she still doesn’t approve.

She gives me a small smile and whispers, “Better make a good impression, Mike. Mothers are very picky when it comes to their daughter’s choices in men.”

I grin and kiss her on the cheek, relieved that I don’t have to defend our relationship to her. I don’t like picking fights with Demitra. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you, Demi?”

She shrugs and walks ahead of me, “You could do with saying it a little more. I think a raise would really prove it, though.”

...