Changing Stiles Read online

  I’m not sleeping with him. I’m saying dinner... We're having dinner to talk.

  Well, don’t end up being his dessert LOL, Nesha responds.

  Get your friend. My hoeing days been over, I type.

  Hahahahahahahaha. Is that right? Nesha mocks.

  Have fun. Call us when you’re done, Tiff texts.

  Yea, kisses. Isha bout to come in, Nesha adds.

  I am so hyped that I let the valet park my car. I rush to get ready only to wind up spending fifteen minutes agonizing over what to wear. Being the queen of petty has me tempted to walk into the lobby wearing sweatpants and comfy Uggs just to prove that I’m not beat over his sudden interest or eagerness to have dinner. But the devastating diva that I’d spent my life becoming wants his mouth to water when he sees me. To pay him back for all the moments I’ve dreamt of him and woken up alone, in heat. And heartbroken.

  So, I ultimately decide on a pair of faux black leather pants that hugs all my curves, a black sequined tank, four-inch stilettos, and a duster to complete this lethal ensemble.

  The restaurant is almost full, but I spy a couple of empty tables scattered throughout. The Maître D informs me that there will an available table in about five minutes, so I turn to find a seat in the waiting area, and just as I’m about to sit down, Carter approaches.

  He reaches me and plants a kiss on my cheek. “You look amazing,” he observes. Carter rubs his hands together and blows into them. “It’s cold out,” he explains. “Damn,” he adds when I take a step back from him.

  “Thank you.” I smile appreciatively, seeing his desire for me expressed in his gaze.

  Yeah. His mouth is watering.

  Score. For me. He's possibly thinking the same thing, considering my body language has to be giving off the “please-dick-me-down” vibe. The sequins are hiding my perky, erect nipples when he grasped my arms to kiss my cheek.

  When he said he was finishing up a job, I’d assumed that he'd be dressed down in work boots and jeans, but he is casually dressed in a pair of black wingtips, tailored slacks, and a custom-fit blazer.

  Yesssss. He knows how to set a thirst trap with his fine ass. I will give him that.

  Shallow women would trip on the view alone. They would be bonafide goners once he opened up, I know.

  The hostess finally leads us back to of table. I bite my bottom lip as Carter rests his hand on my lower back and guides me through the restaurant. He pulls out my chair and waits as I adjust my seat before sitting in his own. The hostess informs us that I’ll server will be right with us, and while we wait for the waitress, he grabs my hand and rubs the inside on my palm.

  “What’s up with you, beautiful?”

  “Curious about the change of heart. And you?”

  “I guess it’s new to you. I’ve been thinking of you a lot. And then there you were, and now we’re here.”

  It sounded simple. Our parting was not, however. Not from my side of things. He had cut me out of his life. Out of Mira's life. He had listened for a moment but ultimately dismissed what I had said as lies.

  And that was it. And that was all.

  “You didn't believe me then, so now you do or are you just over it?”

  Carter shrugs his shoulders. “That was a decade ago. You know what they say about time healing old wounds.”

  Deflated and disappointed, I pull my hand free. “I wasn’t lying, Carter. It never should have happened. But I didn’t lie—”

  He sighs heavily and tilts his head. “It was the same dude you were talking to at the wedding.”

  I nod my head. I knew that omission was gonna come back bite me in the ass. I clench my teeth, trying not to sound like an asshole. “So, are we going to go through the long version or the short one?”

  “I loved you,” he said. It wasn’t flattery or pity. It was the truth.

  The waitress came and took our drink orders.

  Squaring my shoulders, I look him directly in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I should have been honest from the jump when you asked if I knew Justin. But he spoke up before I did, so I didn’t say anything. I should have said that I knew him and that I’d been seeing him socially.”

  Carter takes another deep breath. “You mean fucking him.”

  Frowning, I shake my head in denial. “I didn’t. I was going to but I couldn’t. He was only there because your baby mom answered your phone at one o'clock in the morning.”

  “That’s not an excuse,” he shoots back.

  “After all these years, there are no excuses. I was young and I didn’t know how to deal with her coming back into your lives. How was I supposed to know that you were in the hospital with Mira?”

  “You were supposed to trust me.”

  Taking a deep breath, I wince, attempting to recreate the same headspace of my twenty-three-year-old self. “I wasn't thinking rationally. We hadn’t really talked in two weeks, and I assumed you were with her. I wanted to stop feeling jealous and abandoned, so I tried to make that happen the best way I knew how.”

  The waitress reappeared and set our drinks down on the table and asked if we were ready to order. I haven't even glanced at the menu.

  “I can give y’all more time,” she smiles then walks away when we agree.

  “I didn’t have sex with Justin. There's not a day that goes by that I don’t regret that I allowed him to come over,” I explain.

  This is a moment I’ve replayed repeatedly in my mind. I had told myself if I’d ever get the opportunity, I wouldn't leave it until he understood that I was sorry and that I'd never meant to hurt him.

  “But you did, Lieas,” he responded. “How would you have felt? You tripping cause she answered my phone. You knew me. I wasn’t some scheming ass, stupid nigga fucking around on you. You lied. Bug asked about you for weeks.”

  That hits home. I missed Mira beyond what I thought capable. Now, I can only nod. It’s possible that Carter is fooling himself into thinking that he is ready and open to forgiveness or whatever he thinks is going on here. “Are you truly still interested in me or are you simply seeking closure?”

  “I'm looking to close one door so I can walk through another one,” he clarifies.

  I am salty... It’s grainy… Cut and crystallized like sea salt. I can brush it off my shoulder, but I can’t swallow it and my mouth is full of it. And it’s my damn fault.

  Taking his feelings into consideration, I don’t flinch, but I feel like he just tore a bullet into my chest and it splintered into several pieces, shattering my heart.

  This fresh heartbreak feels no different than it had the last time. “Ooh. Well—” I clear my throat and take the time to figure out my next thought— “I guess that’s fair.”

  “Deidra is a huge fan.”

  “Aaaah, Deidra. Is that the door you tryna walk through?”

  He lets his head fall back an inch and chuckles. “Nawl. I’ve been walking out that door for a while now.”

  I chew on the inside of my bottom lip. “So, you wanted closure? Did this give it to you?”

  The waitress comes back, and I still haven’t even looked at the menu. Because I didn’t want her to have to come back, I order the grilled chicken salad.

  Carter glances at the menu and orders Chicken Alfredo and quickly returns his attention to me.

  “So, what’s up with y’all? Seemed really cozy in Target,” I blurt out, barely able to contain my cynicism.

  Carter laughs as if I’m making some damn joke.

  My new shit is that I’m too old. Too old for this… and too old for that. Too old to be fuckin someone else’s dude. Too old to make foolish decisions. Too old to entertain the road to nowhere. Too old to think with my pussy. It is not the fuck reliable.

  “I read your book, thanks to her,” he admits and takes a sip of his water. He's eyeing me over the rim of his glass. “My first time over her crib, she had your book on the table.” He blew out a stream of air. “Messed up my fuck game that night. Was it true?”

  The bo
ok was fairly autobiographical, a detailed, yet “fictional” account of that very brief and life-changing experience that was our love. “You read my book?”

  “My First Love,” he recites the name. “Was it true?”

  I look down into my water and aimlessly swirl it with the straw before meeting his stare.

  If he’s read it, he already knows what happened, knows that I was seeing both him and Justin. But that I’m sincerely apologetic. I had dedicated the book to my lost love. But yet, here I am, sitting here with him putting me on the spot. “For the most part, yes.”

  Across the small distance, he stared. Silent but his gaze is arrogant, demanding, boastful. With nothing more than an assured grin and invading eyes, he was pulling every ounce of everything I had for him out of me.

  Although his stern gaze assesses me, I felt the warmth of his touch without him even laying one finger on me.

  Breaking our connection, I close my eyes to gather my thoughts.

  Don’t be a hoe.

  Don’t be a hoe.

  “Let’s go,” he says, abruptly standing up. He reaches for my hand.

  Surprised, I just glare at him, confused yet intrigued.

  “Your food will be ready in a few. Can I freshen your drinks?” the perky waitress asked. I haven’t even touched my Coke Zero.

  Appraising him up and down, her appreciation of his good looks is obvious and sends a knowing smile my way.

  He shakes his head and takes out his wallet. “No, we’re fine. Can you wrap our food up to go?”

  A mischievous smile spreads across her face as she takes the credit card he gives to her.

  “Go where?” I ask once the waitress walks off.

  “Somewhere dates one through thirty couldn’t take you.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Alieas

  Okay, one more time. You can be a hoe one more time, I convince myself as I swallow his kisses, reveling in the sensation that his touch brings to me.

  Yes, one more time.

  No…

  Heat. Lust… Love… all tangled up. I’m too emotional for this to be just meaningless sex.

  “Carter,” I whisper as I try to break the kiss. “Carter,” I breathe as his lips masterfully manipulate my mine. “Wait,” I pant, putting my hand on his chest. His heart is racing. “Maybe we should take it slow.”

  He braces himself by placing both his hands on either side of my head.

  “We took it slow last time. Clearly, I gave you entirely too much room to breathe.” His breath is warm as it tickles my nose.

  My breath stops shirt. I'm afraid to look into his eyes. Every step from the moment he grabbed my hand and led me out of the dining room of the restaurant was building up to this.

  My heart palpitates erratically as he fights to reign in his desire.

  I close my eyes for the briefest of seconds to bank my own fevered urges. Tangles of wanting rope themselves around my heart, ready for the taking, and I fear that if I act impulsively, I’m gonna lose him. Again.

  Carter drops his head and leans in closer, so close that his beard tickles my cheek. “Ten years wasted,” he murmurs, causing a moan to involuntarily escape from my swollen lips.

  Open and unbounded by pride, he kisses my neck and buries his face in my hair. “Alieas, I don’t want to waste another second without you,” he adds, switching sides and placing soft kisses across my exposed shoulder.

  As my panties begin to soak at the thought of being thoroughly loved by this man, my heart almost bursts with overwhelming joy and relief. Over the years, I had foolishly prayed that Carter would make his way back to me. That all I needed was one small twist of fate or amazing act of God and he would be mine. And in all that time, deep down in the hallows of my heart, I couldn’t fathom that I’d end up here, back up against the door, with him about to lay it on me.

  Carter caresses my cheek and tilts my face up to his. “Look, I know you’re hesitant and unsure. I respect that. I need you to know that I’m the same intense brotha I was years ago. I already had it made up in my mind that I was coming for you.”

  The bravado seeping out in the timbre of his voice pulls me to him like a magnetic force. I turn my face and kiss his palm.

  “All or nothing?” I inquire, allowing my lips to drift back to his.

  “All… Everything…” he whispers and takes my lips again.

  Silence ensues we feast on sweet offerings of one another. My arms twine around his neck. Without breaking the kiss, Carter, pulls off my duster, lifts me off my feet, and carries me the short distance to the bed.

  Carter lays me down and settles atop me, between my thighs, and he continues to kiss all of my fears and apprehension away.

  My mind is racing and overanalyzing things, though. He kisses my brow then he rains kisses over my face and then gyrates his hips in direct alignment with my womanhood. He’s speaking her language and she starts to speak back. Get that… Get that… I arch up to meet his winding hips.

  Urgent hands race over my body, pulling, stretching, assisting, and removing the unyielding fabric in their wake. Some of his clothes… Some of mine...

  Removing my heels one after the other and letting them fall to the floor, he kisses the instep of my feet, one at a time sending ripples of unexplainable desire coursing through me.

  I grin as his gaze devours my body with lust-filled intentions. I lift my hips off the bed as his skilled hands grip the waistband of my pants and begin to pull them down my legs until they are completely off.

  “Fuck!” he hisses and leans down to grip one of my thick thighs in his hands. He kisses it then the other.

  Those magical lips trail a path of kisses up my thigh, across my pelvic bone, and dips to the space between my thighs before inhaling the cloth that separates him from paradise.

  I giggle, arch my back, and capture his head between my hands. Carter makes his way back up to my lips and drops a single kiss. He gets off the bed to take off his unbuttoned slacks.

  Damn, he’s filled out more. Packed on some muscle. Everything felt bigger, better, and more improved. Like wine, his body has gotten finer with age. I admire the huskiness of his back and the width of shoulders and can imagine holding on to them as my body yields to his.

  I love watching a grown and sexy Carter undress in the dusky room. I can make out the faintest of smiles as he reaches into the pocket of his blazer and pulls out a couple of condoms along with his phone. He turns back toward me and gifts me with a full view of the dick that had put me to sleep plenty of nights in my younger days.

  I bite my bottom lip to suppress an appreciative moan, certain he still knows how to work it. It is as impressive as I remembered, hard and standing at attention. Waiting for my attention. That moan finally escapes and he glances at me with the cocky smile. He plays with his cell phone until the music starts.

  As Shopaholic raps , I need you back, Carter messages the length of his shaft repeatedly in a slow, methodical motion, and I lick my lips at the sight, mesmerized as it grows even larger. Carter rips a condom open and makes a show of slipping it on.

  Instinctively, one of my hands cups my breast as the other slides down into my panties. I gyrate my hips as my fingers slip into my silken folds.

  “Carter. We’re waiting,” I purr licking the top of my breast.

  He is quick to join the show, not content with being an observer. In less than three strides, he is beside me, grabbing my hips and nearly ripping my panties off.

  We both chuckle at his impatience when he finally drops them on the floor.

  Leaning down, Carter traces a nipple with his tongue. He sucks it into his mouth while he plays with the other on between his fingertips. The nipple pops out his mouth, and he stares intensely into my eyes. The weight of his stare pierces my soul. “Do you promise to respect me in the morning?” he jokingly asks as he covers my awaiting body with his.

  Nodding, I laughingly assure him, “I promise.”

  He nudges my legs apart and
slams inside of me, stroking, coaxing me to open wider with a husky murmur.

  “Mmmm hmmm,” I moan, meeting him stroke for stroke and tracing his back with my fingers, memorizing every inch of him, and archiving it with all my other memories.

  “Pussy all warm,” he sighs appreciatively against my ear as he gathers me closer, burying his full length inside of me. “I want it all. Or nothing at all,” he chants, in tune with the person singing the chorus.

  He gives a deep stroke. Then two more short ones followed by a long one met by a swing of my hips. He rocks; I roll. My eyes roll back as I shift with the ebb and flow our sensual mating.

  Tingles of pleasure start to overtake me. “Ooh… Yesss!” I scream. “Yes. Still the best diiiick eeeeever!” I praise as he increases the intensity of his strokes.

  I could hear Rihanna off in the distance.

  Looooove. Love and affection.

  “Give it to me on the daily…” I utter the lyrics, mind high, feeling like I could float on cloud nine and stay there with him forever.

  Carter’s lips seek mine, kissing as he breathes out, “Still the best na-na I've ever had.”

  My vaginal muscles clench around him, pulling him deeper, holding him in place. With me. Inside of me.

  I wrap my arms around his back and lock my legs around his hips as he grips my bottom and starts to drill into me. My body meets every downward stroke with a thrust or circle of my hips.

  “Ummmmm. Right there, Carter. Right there.”

  “You bout to cum for me?” the husky voice demands. With every stroke, he’s tapping my g-spot lightly then banging it as you would a gong. The intense vibration sets off my orgasmic release.

  “Right nooooow!” I let out a satisfied cry. After I come, I always feel deliciously free. My limbs relax and my mind fills with dreams of traveling to a distant galaxy on a blinding star.

  But Carter doesn’t stop. In and out, he’s drilling into me, butt clenched tight as he strokes. His mind is focused on one goal, and I surrounded him with my warmth. It’s gushy and tight, soliciting a second orgasm, and moments later, Carter explodes on a harsh curse.

  Carter pulls out, takes the condom off, and collapses on top of me as I accept him like I’m memory foam.