Back with another one but this one is a little different from the others. I tried a different writing style and technique. I wanted to challenge myself, switching between past and present, using the same words but in different ways to move the story along without losing you as the reader. I like to use these short stories as a way to train my writing muscle… a.k.a. my brain lol. Anyway, check it out and let me know what you think. As always, this is explicit so read if you ’bout it ?.
Title: LoveKilla (Not Another Love Story)
They warned me about him. But I didn’t listen.
I always did this shit. Fall for fucked up dudes, fall in love, and then they break my heart.
As we soak in this bathwater in the middle of his bathroom. Melted candles stationed around us like tiny skyscrapers, becoming one with the floor tiles. We inhaled and exhaled god’s herb together. And as the smoke drifted from our lips, I felt like a drifter in his home. Everything designer down to his bath towels. Expensive world for someone like me. He wasn’t a stranger, but he was stranger than what I was used to. And I’m sure he felt the same way about me.
I wasn’t his type.
And he wasn’t mine.
He was into the black bougie girls. The ones who always had their hair and their nails done on schedule. Their panties matched their bras and were from fancy stores that served champagne at the door.
Who… me? What was I like?
I was more the around the way girl who preferred wine coolers over mimosas. The one who chose gold bamboo earrings instead of diamond studs because bamboos looked better with my Yankee fitted caps. As I took another pull from the blunt he rolled, I lifted my arm waiting for his soft grip to take it from my fingers. Instead, he lowered his head. His lips pressed against the tender part of my neck. I allowed a soft moan to hum from my mouth. With him, it didn’t matter what was happening on the other side of these four walls. What he offered me was predictability and not a care for romance.
“You think he really likes you?” My mama would ask me when we were alone. This was after seeing me out with him one day.
“You two are just so different,” she said. “And you’ve got that look in your eyes that always brings you back crying to me when things don’t work out with these fools.”
When she saw us, she examined his outer shell. Designer this, designer that without a single logo to advertise. His clothes looked expensive though. His Burberry loafers to my Jordan retros.
“You’re always doing this,” my mama added. “Falling in love too fast. Isn’t that what you did with the one before this one? When will you learn?” she quizzed.
Any normal parent would be happy that their baby girl found a man who was good looking and paid. Not my mama. She thought he was perfect, a little too perfect for an imperfect girl like me. But I knew his flaws. He was a liar for hire. A blue collar one. Bad checks, bank fraud, you name it he’s made money off it. But his face and his family’s background told a different tale which is what threw people for a loop. He was the prep school boy with hood friends. While they ran the streets, he ran it with them but with manners and a college degree tucked in his back pocket. He came from a good home with rich parents. He just had bad ways and poor habits.
Why does he do it? The thrill? And was I his other thrill?
I experience a thrill whenever he called me because I knew after however long his day was, my voice was his sovereign. I’d break girls’ night and hit the send to voicemail button on whoever was dumb enough to call whenever this man and I spoke. I wouldn’t recognize me if I saw me.
How could I be so dumb…. Founded by him as I walked past the café just down the block from the hotel I worked at.
I’d just ended my last relationship. Found out that my ex was fucking his co-worker about a week after I told him I wanted to be together forever. So, the timing of meeting my new guy was wrong. But I didn’t listen to my gut. As I walked past the café, he tapped against the front window that he sat at to get my attention. I stopped and did a double take, looking over my shoulder for the person he was actually gesturing to. But there was no one else but me. That day, he introduced himself as Dorian.
“Dorian?” My girl would repeat when I told her. “Hold up. Is his last name Davis?”
She’d shake her head.
“Jade, girl… don’t do it,” she warned.
She had the tea on everyone so it didn’t surprise me she knew him.
“All he’ll do is use you and spit you out. I’ve heard about him you know? Surprised you haven’t. Don’t let the cute face, nice body, and money fool you. He’ll have you dumb and sprung. I think he’s into illegal shit too. He’ll probably have you catching cases over whatever bullshit he’s into. Why you always picking these duds, anyway?!” she questioned, a pinched expression on her face. “Don’t waste your time fucking with him, okay?”
I didn’t listen. I’m not perfect. If I should be surprised about anything it would be him wanting me.
“I want you,” he whispered in my ear. “Can I have you?” he asked as his hand moved over my pierced navel.
The water lubricated his touch as his hands slid down my right thigh veering left to the source of my pleasure. I pressed my head against his chest and spread my legs wider because really, which one of his prissy exes wouldn’t?
The girls before me would slide their knees apart without him having to utter a single word. Perform lewd acts in parked cars like they were good girls by day and porn stars at night. I found a picture of him with one of his exes once as I searched through his phone. I needed a concrete reason not to trust him.
I’d done this routine with the others. Me trust my heart with yet another man, never.
She was perfect, his ex, very beautiful. Long legs, even longer hair. Makeup slaying in this high res snapshot. She wasn’t even posing, and she was bad but she might as well had been a troll the lack of attention he was giving her.
Unbothered and unimpressed, how typical.
How’s the saying go? Show me a beautiful woman and I’ll show you the man who’s tired of fucking her?
While her smile was as wide as her cheeks would allow, his was missing.
I missed his touch whenever he wasn’t around. Conversation between us was unnecessary on my part. I knew what was up. Despite how my mother and best friend felt about me and the men I chose…. or I let choose me, I’d learned from my past fuck ups with falling in love. I always believed Dorian and I spoke better with our bodies, anyway.
As the warm bath fluid swayed with his hand movements, I matched his caress as I gyrated my hips in circles bringing myself closer to his fingertips. Falling more and more in lust with his touch.
Yes, lust. Now that shit right there has never failed me.
They warned me about him but I didn’t listen. That’s because my heart had managed to sink from my chest down to between my legs.
In search of more, I turned in his arms to face him. Looking in his eyes and smirking. I kissed his chest and his head lolled over the edge of the tub. My hand journeyed below the water in search of his treasure. He grunted when I found it and I stroked.
I gripped him in my hand then twisted my wrist slow.
Down then up, up and down…
Downtown was where we went for dinner for our first date. To an Asian restaurant that specialized in fried everything. He talked, I listened. He said all the right things but so did the others.
So, I focused on the physical. We differed from each other. From two different worlds and that turned me on. Turned on by our opposites, our differences. The mystery of discovering what exactly he saw in me or wanted from me.
I reached out of the tub with my free hand to pick up one of the sprawled out wrapped condoms on the tiled floor wet from the bathwater we spilled from an hour ago. It wasn’t odd for us to do this. Sit in a tub, have sex on and off until the pads of our fingers wrinkled from having our hands submerged in water for way too long.
The moment I protected his erection I sat on top… slow, steady, and with control. His bottom lip disappeared between his top and bottom teeth as I slid back and forth my hands squeezing the edges of the tub for leverage. The longer I rode, the harder he got. His hand would move from the side of my waist, sliding up my back then my neck, his fingers disappearing into my hair. He’d tug my bun a little, and I’d moan for him to do it again.
See, my good boy gave good dick, and that was always good enough for me.
We defied the construction of that bathtub achieving positions that others couldn’t imagine.
Him on top before hitting it from the back.
Back when we were getting to know each other he told me who he was and what he did early. He said unlike the girls before me he could be real with me. Truer with his words. He said I didn’t judge him or expect much and for that he could let his guard down without a need to impress.
But impressed I was that he could keep up with my larger-than-life appetite for sexual pleasure. I was real with him when we first spoke. Sex was a priority, love not so much… anymore.
“Damn, I love you,” he whispered in my ear tonight as my body slapped against his, his fingers tight around my waist as he continued pleasing me.
The effort that must have taken for him to lean forward and say this in my ear was an amplifier for his affections for me. My moans and his groans echoed throughout the bathroom as if our vocal chords were powered by mics. My core was clenching and releasing each time he slid in and out of me. I dropped my head between my shoulders and he wrapped his arm around my waist to pull me closer.
“I love you, Jade,” he whispered again.
Dorian said it with more conviction the second time. He sounded a little frustrated, too. His words caught me off guard like a thief at night, trying to rob me of my common sense… before I forced myself to refocus.
“Mmm-hmm,” I moaned. “And I… I’m,” I stammered. “I’m close. Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t stop, and I came, like always. I’d eat it if it was a cuisine, the orgasms he served my body each time our bodies joined.
My breasts swelled my pulse raced and my knees threatened to give out. I held the edge of the bathtub so tight, I thought I’d chip a nail as the sensation built, first pressure then a burst of energy that caused my walls to contract without control.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t speak.
His touch so good I anticipated feeling it again even with him still inside of me.
Neither one of us spoke once we were done, thankfully.
We resumed our positions, his back against the tub my back against his chest and me between his legs. Me leaning forward to drain the water and refill it once again. Us soaping each other, bathing, then getting rid of that bathwater before refilling the tub again. As he rolled another joint, I sat with my back to him more excited about round two than echoing his sentiments. I said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t repeat those three little words because I had no desire of saying them back.
Jade was jaded as a motherfucker. Mama named me right. Oh, well, blame my exes.
I’m not a coward to admit that all I wanted was this moment with him… not forever.
I heard him sigh behind me.
“It’s aight,” he said low. I could hear the disappointment heavy in his voice. “You ain’t gotta say it back.”
And I didn’t. Probably never will.
As I sat there waiting for him to finish rolling so we could get back to what we’d been doing, my mind wandered. I knew his heart wasn’t safe with me after tonight. Messing with lovekillas… I’d become one myself.
Dorian fucked up and fell in love with a fucked up girl. But I wouldn’t leave him alone. I didn’t love him. But shit… I loved what he did to my body.
As we continued to sit in silence, my thoughts floating in my mind like a loose plastic bag in the wind, I twisted my mouth to one side and thought…
Hmmm, maybe they should’ve been warning him about me….