Page 26 of Low love Low fidelity

The pitch in her cry was about more than inescapable pleasure. Lennox hit a plateau she was unaccustomed to, a place possibly never visited. And my manipulative ass knew it. This week wasn’t supposed to be about this.

I swear…

Our bedrooms being on opposite ends of the house was strategic. I didn’t want to seduce her, just spend time with the girl. But instead, my ass got jealous about her spending time with her girls. I’d suspended lots of shit on my itinerary when she finally agreed to spending half the week in the same house as me. I sacrificed a lot, but I knew what I was getting myself into.

So, why the fuck you spank her? Lennox! This is Lennox!

And my low-key, possessive ass couldn’t even make it two full days and nights without crossing the line. You have to understand, shortie didn’t live in the same state as me. The times I’d seen her over the past three years had been stealthy and timed to be brief. She’d give me longerFaceTimecalls than face-to-face visits when they were possible. Still. I should have been patient.

As my tongue glided away from her clit, down to her thigh, I wanted one more. Lennox could come again on my face, I knew it. But I also knew I should stop while I was ahead. That first orgasm came quicker than I thought her self-consciousness and good sense would allow her. The second was more fun because I got to explore. Swallow her essence. Ingest her pleasure.

My girl’spussy was pretty, too. Lips plump, soft, and well portioned. Her hair was low and waxed in the shape of a martini glass. And it tasted like…her. A natural oil enhanced by a delicious artificial fragrance.

Just fucking perfect.

Sucking on her thigh as she panted, chest toward the ceiling, pussy spread before me like a feast, I decided to end the song. She’d had enough. Her harsh breaths hit my face, saturated in her satisfied concession as I licked the evidence of her state of negligence on my lips. I pressed harshly into the final keys, paying her an inspective glance. Lennox was spent. Affected. Disturbed. And something inside me was happy with that. It was long overdue. She needed to become undone, even if for a night.

Once the ending note was complete, I pulled her legs together and hooked them over my right arm. Then I scooped Lennox from her heaving back, lifting her from the piano. As I walked out of the living room, I studied the hardness in her expression. Lennox kept her eyes closed as she struggled to steady her breathing. I understood. That was a lot. There was no way I could go in for another orgasm. That would have really done damage.

Traveling the hall, I held her in my arms and chest, physically, the way I did emotionally. Lennox Curry was one of those feminine gems born into the earth, who men fucked up with mishandling. It started with her father, Chino, and went on from there. Sometimes, I considered myself in that mix. Shit, I could have prevented it if I’d just bossed up back in the day. I could have shielded her from a lot of bullshit. The shit that had her crying the moment we passed the doorway of her bedroom.

A tortured cry ripped from her belly. Lennox tried to catch it, covering her mouth, but the sharp mewls reverberated in my chest as her body convulsed in my arms. This was why the third—or fourth—orgasm wasn’t appropriate. I kept her in my arms as I made my way to the bathroom. Managing the light switch, I carried her to the tub, sitting on the lip to turn on the water.

Both of Lennox’s hands were now covering her pretty face. She didn’t need to hide shit from me. She couldn’t. I hurt for her and with her. To the world, she may have been a fierce, self-controlled woman, filled with confidence—and, for the most part, she absolutely was. However, Lennox was weighed down, being burned out from the baggage she’d been carrying for too many years.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Shhhhhh…”

Her muffled wails didn’t lessen as I rocked her in my arms. I waited on her and the water, even found her bodywash and squirted a bit in the tub to give it fragrance. If this was a different scenario—if this had been planned—I would have had all the tools necessary to care for her.

When the tub was filled and Lennox’s wails had stopped, though her tears had not, I moved my mouth, tight from her dried essence, down to her ear. “I can take your clothes off for you. I can bathe you, too, but…” I hesitated, always did with her. “I know you wanna be alone right now.” Taking a deep breath, I waited for her to speak. “Am I right?”

Lennox nodded. That tiny movement from her neck reminded me that I needed to trust my know-how of Lennox Curry to assist me in dealing with her. I managed to turn off the faucet. Then I arranged my arms beneath hers, lifting her from my lap. Lennox staggered right away, but I anchored her at the waist then stood.

“You good?”

Her face was to the floor when she nodded.

“Should I…” I hesitated again, struggling with the call to leave her alone again. “…wait out in your room?”

The blonde curls of her head swayed left and right. “No,” she croaked before a hollow, wet sniffle. “I’m good.”

And there it was. She’d made the call.

I left Lennox to do her self-care.

She placed the office phone down on the receiver and smiled. “Give us a few seconds. We have someone coming now to escort you to Pastor Williams’ suite.”

Will today be a good day?

I nodded at the woman of Asian descent. “Thanks.”

Then I pivoted away from the reception counter, and mindlessly found myself observing the images on the wall. Formal portraits of elderly people, all ranging in ages, hung in a symmetrical arrangement. Their names engraved on brass squares along with their occupations appeared official and warm at the same time. I imagined they were mostly wealthy residents of the private convalescent home. I’d also bet most of them were dead. I mean…that was the final step before leaving here. As pristine and home-like as the facility was, it was a final resting place.

On second thought, that was not totally true, I eventually remembered. This particular campus may have been for hospice and assisted living; however, the sister property was for nursing and rehabilitation. According to Tobias, one-third of flash-famed, quick fizzled rap group,Korrupt Hearts’, Lil’ Guap, was on the other campus. He had been in a practically vegetative state for years now. There had been rumors of his slow, yet present progressions, but they were just that. I’d always suspected that to be the motivation behind my father selecting this company. Chino Curry was a true O.G., a hip-hop head, too.

Based on the thick and glistening, sealed hardwood flooring, beautifully detailed drapery, and thick floral carpeting, whatever my father had been paying for this place was worth something. Over the five years I’d been visiting here, there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight, neither was there a note of staleness in the Wayne, New Jersey facility. Each corner was tended to, and apparently, the air, too.

“Mrs. Richardson?”

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