Page 158 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

“We make love, Storm. We fuck and we make love.”

“Yes,” I hiss, moving with more determined strokes when her pussy jumps—another sign she’s close again. “And you’re my first. The first girl I’veevermade love to.”

She releases a breathy sound, the tears coming faster.

“My first and my last. I swear it on my life, Shae.”

“Oh, god!” she shouts, and her fingers flex against the muscles of my back, pressing into my lats as she stiffens and comes again for what seems like minutes.

When she screams my name, I finally allow myself to let go, shooting rope after rope of hot cum into her battered pussy.

When our heart rates start to slow, and our breaths start to go back to normal, I press my lips to hers again, a long seeking kiss.

And when it finally ends, I still stay close and say, “If you knew the depths of my feelings for you, it’d terrify you, Shae.”

But when I return her searching gaze, I’m stunned by what I see here.

“Ditto.”

30

SHAE

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Daddy’s voice has me sitting up straight.

It’s a few days before Valentine’s, and I’ve just finished assembling a hundred gift bags for the kids at Sunday School. Mama already enlisted me for delivery duty tomorrow, so I’m taking a much-needed break in front of the TV.

In the background,Girlfriendsplays on the screen; it’s an episode I’ve seen before.

“I’m fine, Daddy,” I say. “Great, actually.” I paste on a bright smile and sit up, tucking my legs beneath me.

“That’s good, Ms.Harvard,” he says, and the grin on his face isn’t comforting.

“That’s weird, Dad. Don’t call me that.” I huff out a laugh to soften my words.

“But it’s true, ain’t it?” He eases down into his La-Z-Boy recliner with a little groan. “My baby’s gonna be up in Cambridge, running with all them fancy types.”

I don’t say anything right away. Just tuck the blanket tighter around my legs.

Eventually, I say, “Yeah.”

Daddy nods, as if I’ve just confirmed something for him.

“What’s going on, Shae? You’ve been troubled for these last few weeks. Is it something with that boy?”

I give a sideways grin.

“He has a name. It’s Storm.”

Daddy waves his hand in the air in response. When I don’t continue the conversation, he grunts and reaches for the remote, pausing the episode right as Traci Ellis Ross flounces across the screen.

“Opal!” Daddy shouts, leaning back in his chair to holler up the stairs.

Great. Just great. It’s a full-blown intervention now.

Mama hurries down the stairs in her bonnet and house dress, frowning.

“Reginald, what have I told you about yellin’ after me like that?”

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