Honestly I am not a writer but was thinking about the paternal side of smoke when he taught the little girl about negotiating! It was an epic part of the film that I think shows so much of his character as a father figure.. so what if his baby girl wouldâve lived. I think that scene showed parallels to if she wouldâve lived, how he would have been in a way. Idk my first ever anything !
â Papa!! Papa look what I got â the young girl shrilled excitedly as she ran into the front yard. Smoke had turned to quickly see his baby girl barreling towards him. He snatched her up before she could run face front into his lower half.
â whoa slow down baby girl, you nearly knocked papa off his feetâ he said with a chuckle. â awe papa nobody can knock YOU down, not even uncle stack!â his little girls faced twisted in a sly grin that mirrored his twin as she looked at him & said âcept mama.â she beamed at her papa and he looked at her bashfully knowing she was telling the truth.
â whatâs got you so in a hurry ? â he asked his beautiful little girl. She slowly opened her tiny hand to show him the nickel that lay upon it. Smoke raised his eyebrows and scrunched his face in mild confusion. Not that he didnât know what a nickel was, but because he didnât understand the cats meow about a nickel. He had always given his baby girl the world. She never knew what it felt like to wake up before God to go and pick cotton, she never had to feel the burn of the Mississippi sun beating down on her back and she didnât have to feel the blood drip from her hands because of the hard dried pericarp of cotton. And as long as he lived and breathed she would never know that life, sharecropper was another word for slave, and she would never know the feeling of being either. She was down right spoiled, let her mama tell it. â sheâont know the meaning of the word no when it comes to you Elijahâ he could hear Annie telling him when he brought her home a new doll or teddy. This was his purpose though, when he found out Annie was pregnant it grounded him.
She and the baby stabilized him. He realized he could no longer be the man who cared about nothing except protecting his brother, he had to protect himself so he could be there to protect his wife & little one. He had decided he was done with robbing and scheming and the money he had saved up he opened a shop, a shop by day servicing the black folk of the community and a juke joint by night, giving freedom to hard day and week they put in. It was so successful stack even had to invest in the business. So it puzzled him because his baby girl had plenty of nickels in the jar her mama gave her as a piggy bank, what was so special about this one?
âYou got a nickel from ya bank ?â Smoke asked his little girl. She shook her head and said â no papa, I got it from cousin Sammieâ âSammie ?â Smoke question raising his right eyebrow, what Sammie give you a nickel for ? â
â he tried to give me a wooden nickel, said he needed me to watch out for uncle Jed while he go walk a lady down the road.â Smokes brows raised high to meet the lining of his hair he couldnât believe what he was hearing. â he wanted you to do what now ?â â but I told him Iâm not watchin less he give me a real nickel, then he said he give me two wooden nickels.â She raised her index and her middle fingers to emphasize the number two. Smoke stared in disbelief as his daughter recounted the story. âI said 1 nickel or Iâm not watching for you. He aint want too but he gave me the nickel see papaâ Alisha ( Ali for short) held the nickel in between her and her papa eyeing it with pride. He couldnât help but smile a big wide grin. Both of their deep dimples showing while he held her as she looked at the nickel and he looked at her. His heart burst with love. Ever since she could talk, which was the age of 3 , he started teaching her the ways to negotiate and stand up for herself. He would always be there, but he knew he carried a lot of sins from his past and one day that might catch up. So he wanted to teach her everything he knew so she wouldnât be vulnerable to the ways of man. Negotiating was the first lesson. Knowing your worth and what you have to offer. He beamed with pride as he kissed her little dimple and held her close and said â thatâs papas baby girlâ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
and if you fw @ebonymuse/michaelmuse stay off my blog, im not fw that pretending to be black bc you want clout or whatever tf ! there should be no reason why i wanna check ppls pages now to see if their black writers or not bc mfs dont wanna be themselves!!! + if ur gonna turn the blind eye to this situation and keep reading her fics do not interact with me, block me.
it makes no sense why people are still supporting this weird ass bitch n this weird shit like im disappointed if u are black and still choosing to read, support, or reblog her shit where she writes to portray blk ppl (allegedly) either way that shit is very mf coon and there are better black writers than her that dont have to cosplay to have readers/fans
and no idgaf about no mf apology my people have went thru centuries of oppression, micro aggression, racism, + more just for a lil white bitch to cosplay as us bc what she thought ts was aesthetic??? wrong bitch, not fw it!
Iâm not sure what I liked to make my algorithm have so many Michael Jackson and family smut stories but please make it stop đđŸđđŸâŠ I love MJ but never in a million years did I want to come encounter with him deep stroking Y/N đđ!! This man is like a father to me đ§đ
This is why we create black spaces. Itâs not to be weird or shady; itâs because we genuinely donât know whoâs in our corner or rather taking advantage of our creativity and profiting from it.
This is my very important reminder to PLEASE support our black writers. Weâve been marginalized enough. We love to share with the world, but itâs hard when writers like these take from us without giving any kind of consideration and recognition.
She remains unmarried. With a list of betrothals broken off due to her being a "difficult" woman to deal with by past suitors, her council, desperate to find her a husband hatch a plan to host a tournament for men across the land to fight for her hand in marriage. Two Mercenary twin brother's, down on their luck, see it as their moment to strike big. The biggest they've ever went to bat for.
Content: enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, violence, peer pressure, manipulation, misogyny, sexual tension, slow burn, political intrigue, eventual smut
Cw: explicit language (not the healthiest coping mechanisms), sexual situations, *light* manhandling, voyuerism... shit idk, Its alot going on.
And if your a minor... Dont read this shit bruh.đ
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
As soon as the door to the library closed behind her she moved swiftly through the darkened corridors like the devil was on her heels. Her night robe gently swayed every which way at the speed of her gate. She clutched the robe tighter to her body.
She felt off balance. Like her skin was too tight for the body it was wrapped around. She felt hot everywhere despite the chill of the night. A prickle of moisture just beneath the surface of her skin was lying in wait to eventually perspire down her body was ever lingering. Her heart was racing, and it wasnt just from the speed at which she walked.
Damn him, she cursed in her mind.
Most of the staff had gone to bed by this time. The only people occupying the halls were a sparse few royal gaurds, as most of them were concentrated on the outskirts of the property. They gave small bows to her as she passed by, she gave a brief curtsy and bid them goodnight.
She finally reached her chambers after what felt like hours, eventhough at max it was closer to five minutes. Somehow heading back from the library to her room felt longer than heading to the library to find her frustrating husband.
Despite her erratic movements from before, she closed the door slowly with a quiet click careful to not wake anyone nearby. As soon as the door closed behind her she leaned her back against its cool surface, letting out the longest sigh into the empty room. The cool wood, juxtaposed to the heat emitting off her frame had a small calming affect on her.
It didnt last long.
An irritation of two kinds bubbled to the surface. She clenched her jaw, "The fuckin' nerve on that man." Annie could hardly recall any man doing something like that to her.
But what pissed her off even more, was the fact that he had her in such a vulnerable position so easily and she didnt put up any fight. How docile she got just from a little handling from him. She just let herself land in the palm of his hand, and the things he was saying to her-
She covered her face with her hands letting out a bemused groan. Sitting right beside the anger she was feeling, was embarrassment.
The way I just asked that man to tell me what he'd do to me. That was way out of character for her. Even if it wasnt- it cut too close to begging for her comfort. It was even worse knowing that if he pushed just a little more she would've shamelessly let him do whatever he wanted to her right there in that library. Propriety be damned.
Made her almost forget herself. Something he seemed to have the knack for doing. It was getting out of control, even worse now that he now knew that she wasnt nearly as against his advances as previously let on.
He did all that, put her in a vulnerable position, leaving her wanting, just to pull away suddenly? Make demands? Talkin' 'bout how he'll keep doin' her like this 'till she confesses that she wants him as much as he wants her. If she was in her right mind she would've cussed his ass out- 'cause how dare he?
But instead she fled.
A man never made her run as much as he did. He was just so... intense when he's ready. Far from the men she was used to dealing with.
She placed a hand to her chest. Her heart was still beating rapidly, and she could feel every trecherous pulse of it beating right between her thighs. Like a constant reminder of the affect he had on her body... On her.
She grunted, pushing herself stiffly off the door and went straight to her bed, rearranging the pillows in the way she liked for sleep. She put the rest of the decorative pillows onto the ottoman that sat at the foot of her bed.
Once it was set to her liking, she grabbed her silk bonnet, turned off the singular light in the room that casted a warm glow across the room, and eased her way under the silk sheets. She shimmied her body around until she found a position that felt just right, and closed her eyes.
It seemed that the position she chose didnt sit quiet right with her. She didnt feel her body sink into the feeling of sleep like she wanted so she switched positions again, facing the curtained glass doors that led outside to their shared balcony, trying to melt into the bed and relax her body.
It didnt feel right again, her neck and chest still felt hot.
That incessant heat that settled low in her belly had not cooled down.
She was restless. She turned on her stomach, which became equally as uncomfortable after a while, her chest was pressing a bit into her ribs. She flipped over to her side again, hand tucked under her head as she stared into space in her darkened room, letting out a frustrated breath.
She flipped on to her back, eyes to the ceiling. Sleep was struggling to find her, a buzzing energy settled underneath her skin. That consistent pulse that she felt between her thighs was not going away, refusing to allow sleep to find her. The heat in her belly had not cooled down, every change of position, every movement of her legs added pressure exactly to where she was starting to ache. A temptation to touch was steady growing-
No. She refused.
He dont deserve my pleasure.
It seemed like her refusal made the throbbing worse. A budding wetness made its self known, she clenched her legs in hopes that it would stop it from getting any worse.
It didnt.
Her mind kept buzzing with the words he said, the way he touched her, wrapped his strong arms around her soft waist, how easily he maneuvered her around as she was by no means a petite woman. The feel of her body pressed against his. How for a second of insanity she purposefully brushed her hips against his when he spun her around to get an Idea of what he was carrying in those undergarments of his.
She was not disappointed... far from it as a matter of fact.
Those thick, full lips of his- She briefly imagined what they would look like between her legs- his wide callous hands wrapped around her thick thighs as he took his fill of her...
She clenched, her legs crossed between eachother tightened the slightest bit more.
A trecherous need to quench the fire that was building was steady growing. Her fingers twitched.
But once again she refused.
Like if she touched herself off the back of what just happened she would be admitting defeat of some nonsensical game they were playing with eachother. 'Cause thats exactly what it was, and thats what he was playing at. For her to give in to him. Her ego couldnt allow something like that, for some reason a paranoid, unreasonable part of her mind believed that if she touched herself to the thoughts of him, he would know in some way.
Knowing him, he would never let her have peace if he ever knew and with the last words he left her with he clearly had no intentions of coming up off from her.
She scoffed into the empty room, he has enough audacity drippin' off him to drown the whole kingdom with his annoyin' ass.
She resolved herself to simply refuse thinking about him. Veering into thoughts of duties that she had to take care of as a distraction, old wrinkled faces of the elders . In a way it did work... almost immediately dosing the fire building in her to just embers.
Her sleep was very fitful.
.
.
.
__________________
Annie was not in a good mood.
Her lips seemingly stuck in a twisted in a frown as she rubbed at her puffy eyelids.
She didnt get nearly as much sleep as she would've wanted and it made her feel highly irritable. All thanks to Smoke.
The thought of his name crossing her mind made her grimace, but as always, a quiet knock at the door shifted her attention. She already had an idea of who it was before the door was cracked open.
"Goodmorning my Queen." Ruth piped cheerfully as she fluttered about the royal chambers, followed closely by Pearline, her smooth voice wafting across the room, "I hope you got yourself some good rest."
The queen kissed her teeth.
There was no way in hell she was gonna tell Pearline the reasoning behind her lack of sleep. Still, not wanting to be rude she answered anyways, prim, proper, and formal, "It was fine. Thank you for asking." Short and sweet.
The response made her friend lift a curious brow, but Pearline knowing Annie as well as she did made the choice to leave it for now. As stubborn as the queen was, trying to wrestle out what was troubling her was like pulling teeth.
She'll tell me when she's ready... Atleast I hope she does...
She made a beeline towards Anisa's closet, looking for a gown of the day.
Annie moved to her vanity and Ruth started on getting her hair in order, as the, usually, timid girl quietly rattled off about what kind of new braidstyles were in at the moment and if Annie wanted to try any. Annie let her choose what style the queen would wear for the day, " I trust that you wont have me out here lookin' crazy Ruth, go on an' choose a style for me." Lending the young girl a soft smile.
She figured giving the girl some freedom would aid in building up her confidence, make her feel more sure of herself. She could tell it was working little by little as the young girls footsteps no longer sounded like she didnt want to be heard, sounding more sure of herself, like she belonged here.
Annie turned her eyes toward Pearline sorting through her clothes and noticed the pointed absence of Mary... Once again. The last conversation she shared with her other friend crossing her mind " Why Mary aint with yall today?"
Pearline paused, before letting out an irritable huff "I dont know what's up with her, she all sulky an' she refuse to tell me whats wrong- oh, what color you feelin' today Ann'?", she added, still focused on the task at hand.
"Im feelin' red, -You know what got her down enough that she dont feel the need to show her face round here an' shirk her responsibilities?" Annie raised a manicured brow, her dormant irritation threatening to breach the surface.
"Girl, she aint tell me a thing-but judgin' by how she look at me with enough heat to set me on fire since her twin kissed my hand? I can think up a thing or two." Pearline finally wrenched out a warm red gown, just shy of looking almost orange. "How you feel 'bout this color. Its not a solid red, but I think it'll look real nice against your skin."
"Looks nice Pearl, I like it..." the queen trailed off, there was a thought plaguing her mind and she was deliberating on how much she wanted to divulge, if she wanted to say anything at all. From how things were looking there was already a simmering tension between Pearl and Mary, she decided against it for now. But she will most certainly have a conversation with Mary.
Cause clearly what I told her aint go through that thick skull of hers.
After Pearline and Ruth made their final touches on her outfit, Annie had an urge to take a stroll outside the estate walls before taking on the stress of the day.
She looked at the clock and knew forsure she'd have enough time to.
Just before the two ladies were about to excuse themselves for the rest of the morning, Annie spoke up,
"Before yall leave... would yall like to... Go on a walk with me?"
While she was met with enthusiasm with Ruth giving an immediate yes, Pearline paused for a second, face wrought with subdued suprise because, when was the last time the queen, her friend, offered to hangout outside of obligated times?
Annie's anxiety starting to bleed into her nerves as each second ticked by without a response from Pearline. She contemplated taking back the offer. She didnt want to make her long time friend feel as if she was obligated to just because she was monarch.
She didnt have to wait much longer because soon her worries were calmed when a warm smile slowly spread Pearlines lips, one that could be heard in her voice when she spoke."Which route you wanna take?"
"Let's go to some of the walkways just outside the estate, someplace I can exhale without my breath feelin' restricted. Its too stuffy up in here." Annie fidgeted around, unconsciously proving her own point.
"Girl, I thought you'd never ask- c'mon Ruth!" Pearline motioned excitedly.
.
.
.
"Im not gone lie Anisa, I dont know how you do it. Even me bein' here a few days back Im already startin' to feel stale. Like some old bread. Them few weeks I spent visitin' family- even with my ancient husband, was such a nice change of pace... You need a vacation or somethin' that takes you outta here for a little while, take a little edge off."
"I already had a vacation. I had a honey moon." Annie supplied confidently, brushing off the suggestion.
"-Which was still spent here and knowing you? A majority of that time was spent actin' like that man you married aint exist..." Pearline turned to Annie, her gaze expectant.
"I... It wasnt that bad, I allowed him to help me with my garden." The queen crossed her arms, and if Pearline was in her right mind she could've sworn it looked like the queen was pouting.
"You 'allowed' him?"
"Yeah, after I discovered he wouldnt stop pesturing me. I figured I might as well have given him somethin' to do."
"Anisa. Theres no way in hell you both felt refreshed from somethin' like that. An' seein' the way you two loom around eachother in all that loaded silence yall both walk around here with? You two carry enough tension to set this whole place on fire."
Annie stiffened, was it that obvious?
Almost as if Pearline read her mind, she Annie patted her on the back with a delicate hand, "Dont worry, aint nothin' obvious when it come to you an' that husband of yours. But I know you Anisa..." she trailed off.
A tension of a different sort say between them. One of a disconnection and a friends past unsuccessful efforts to be close once more.
Ruth, sensing a shift in the atmosphere between the two women slowed her steps giving them some space, before wandering off the trail into the long grass fields, a small movement between the blades caught her attention.
"Dont go too far now!" Anisa called, before she quieted down again, looking somewhere into the distance. She heard Ruth's response back, but didnt fully registered what the girl said.
Pearline didnt speak for a moment, panic in her mind started to set in. Feeling like she ruined what could've been a simple nice one on one outting with her closest friend that she hadnt had the chance to have in God knows how long. She should've been satisfied with just that... she shouldve-
"Hhm..." Annie breathed with introspection. "When you put it that way... I guess you gotta point. Might have to plan a vacation sometime. By myself." She asserted.
"You aint takin' Smoke with you?"
"His ass can stay here an build a damn castle from the ground up for all I care, since he got his nose stuck in all them damn architect books. He irritatin'."
Pearline chuckled, taking note of her friends stiff, closed off posture. While Anisa has been mostly herself, she could feel a buzzing energy of irritation surrounding her. She always had one, as she was having to constantly deal with egos and incompetency at times, she was always good at hiding it for the most part.
But today, she could tell Annie needed to get something off her chest, wether it was steam or something else entirely. Clearly as far as Pearline could tell, the source of her deepened ire was quiet obviously directed towards the king.
"He done anything wrong by you?" Pearline question seriously.
"No... maybe.." the previous annoyance on the queens face morphed between a strange mix of irritation and bashfulness. Her lips twinge.
Interesting
Though Anisa didnt say anything, Pearline had an idea of what it was that was bothering the queen.
"Anisa."
The weight in which Pearline uttered her name immediately drew Annies attention, she turned her eyes towards her friend.
"If this comes off as oversteppin', Im sorry but... have yall been intimate?"
"..."
"-Not that you gotta answer or anything. I just- well... I know what its like to feel a bit frustrated from the lack of, ehm..." Pearline looked towards Ruth wanting to know if she was within ear shot. Not because she felt it was a subject too grown for her ears, she was almost a woman grown and should be aware of these kinds of conversations, but because she didnt want to broach a personal subject of the Queen while others could be with in earshot.
"Hmph!" Annie let out a derisive snort, a scowl twisted her glossed lips.
Pearline stopped in her tracks, eyes widened. "Wait!... Annie" she said in disbelief. Her mind working into over drive. It wasnt an answer, but it was an answer.
Annie turned around, confused by the sudden outburst. "Huh... Girl what's wrong with you? Whatchu doin' all that for?"
"Annie... Anisa."
"Yes Pearl? You better start sayin' somethin' 'cause you 'bout to piss me off."
"Oh hush Anne, like you dont walk 'round here on the edge of cussin' somebody out all the time... as a matter of fact its only gotten worse since that Smoke of yours came along..." she stiffled a fit of laughter trying to escape.
"He aint my Smoke" she huffed, folding her arms across her chest.
"Well you sure is his Annie though..." Pearline teased cheekily, a chesire grin spread across her mouth.
"Now Annie. Even if you wasnt my friend, anyone with eyes can see how that man dont play when it come to you... Now I aint seen much, but from all the whisperin' them servants do when they aint got nothin' better to do, and from what little Ive seen of that man? C'mon now."
"What you hear 'bout him from the servants? What they whisperin' about me an' him?" Annie was curious but on gaurd. Of course people talk, she didnt feel any sort of way about that, it was apart of being royalty.
"Well, when it comes to him, he's a more reserved man but he's been nothin' but kind to 'em..." she trailed off.
The queen hummed, but she could tell there was something Pearline was holding back.
"Go on" Annie prompted, "I aint gon' bite your head off or nothin', I can tell theres somethin' on the tip of your tongue you wanna spill."
"Well, I heard ol' boy came back not too long ago, Brandon. Went as soon as he came. Some said he was flyin' like a bat outta hell."
Annie tampered the smile threatening to break across her face when Pearline mentioned the speed at which Brandon got the hell on back to wherever he came from.
Pearline continued, leaning in conspiratorily, "Heard your husband had his ass cornered, bit the barrel of a gun right to his head. Scarin' the piss outta 'em. Don't help that some of the house keepers were talkin' 'bout how they could smell it off him when he left."
"Oh really?" She played, fake suprised.
"Nah, dont play me Anne. You was my friend longer than you been my queen, you been known about this."
"Yeah, I knew, he told me what he did that same night..."
"Really?"
"Yeah, Im not too suprised. He almost too upfront. Not that I mind really."
"Ah... I see." Pearline nodded in some understanding.
Annie cocked her head to the side quizzically, "I know you mentioned some of the housekeepers and servants gossipin', but Im curious... How you know them kinda details? He never mentioned usin' any kinda weapon. Though I wouldnt put it pass 'em.." Her mind floated back to the time he told her about his background as a mercenary with his twin.
Pearline sneered slightly, "Well, before that 'lil heffa decided to be all weird to me all 'cause she aint gotta leash on her twin, she told me a bit that she heard a bit from Stack, probly pillow talkin' or somethin'."
"Huh..." the queen muttered a knowing look on her face. Her mind was churning,
Smoke made no mentions of his brother bein' involved... Mary steady runnin' her mouth... Stack stirrin' things up...
She kissed her teeth, I aint got the patience for this shit...
Seeing her friend visibly getting worked up over the info she just gave her Pearline tried to soothe it over. " Im sorry, -I aint meant for this to upset you-"
Annie held a hand up to stop her mid sentence. "No Pearl... You didnt upset me, Im just thinkin', I... Thanks for lettin' me know." A smile returned to her face, honestly this little walk she's had with Pearline unfurled some of the tension she didnt realize she was carrying, her shoulders loosened slightly.
Maybe Pearline wasnt someone she had to keep at arms length... Maybe she could let her in just a little mor-
"Queen Anisa!"
Ugh
She knew that shrill voice anywhere. Pearline and Annie turned towards the direction it came from, Ruth a little deeper into the field doing the same.
Councilwoman Maevis, with her ever present scowl etched upon her face made her way to the three women, with two royal gaurds in toe.
"Looks like our little walk is comin' to an end early..." Pearline sighed.
Annie snorted, "Was only a matter of time. Things were too calm...", she turned to her friend, quiet for a moment. Hesitant in what she wanted to say to her.
"Thanks for takin' a walk with me." She let out a loose chuckle, " I didnt realize how much I needed this. How much I missed this..." Annie felt her eyes unexpectedly get heavy with emotion, a tell tale sign of her eyes feeling a bit misty, just before she steeled herself from getting too emotional.
Pearline grabbed a hold of both her hands, "Anisa... Im just happy you wanted me to come with you, I know things haven't been easy. Our friendship can't be what it used to- I mean, we aint kids anymore obviously, but..." she squeezed her hand a bit firmer, Annie felt the warmth of Pearlines hands seeping into her own, a stark contrast from the cool, crisp morning air. "Thank you."
"What you thankin' me for? I didnt do much-"
"Oh girl hush all that nonsense that's bout to leave that mouth a your's an' just listen." She said sternly. Surprisingly, Annie didnt argue, patiently waiting for what she had to say.
"I just wanted to thank you for trustin' me. For lettin' me in even for a little bit, even if its just this one time."
Annie wordlessly pulled Pearline into a long warm hug, slightly rocking eachother side to side, pouring into her what words could not suffice. "It wont be a one time thing Pearline... not if I have any say in it." She could feel her friend melt into at her words, releasing a quiet exhale like a weight was lifted off of her, the both of them really.
Looks like she needs this just as much as I did...
She could tell how sad it made Pearline to see Anisa pull away as she took on her duties over the years. At the time Annie thought it was the right thing to do. The paranoia was just too high to go from having a family one moment to both taken away from her for reasons that remained unknown to having the highest seat in the kingdom. To dealing with men and women alike always looking for an angle...
But maybe... just maybe she could let people get close again...
"Your highness!" The voice got closer.
"Alright", Annie started to pull away, not before rubbing her friends forearms soothingly before she let go of her. " Time to find out what this woman wants." She turned towards the field, seeing Ruth inspecting a black fuzzy caterpillar inching away along a blade a grass. "C'mon Ruth we headin' back now!", waving her over.
Maevis finally reached the pair at the same time Ruth scrambled her way to them aswell. The older woman face forever in that permanent scowl she carries, spoke, her voice slightly out of breath "Did you not here me calling for you?"
"Mhm" Anisa hummed noncommittedly as she began to make her trek back to the estate, her long gait caused the shorter woman to pick up the pace to remain next to her. "And you're all the way out here with no security. Why didnt you respond bac-"
"-Cause last time I checked you weren't in my schedule for today." She cut in sternly, making sure that Maevis could hear that she was not in the mood for any of her nonsense today. "So now Im here wondering what has you walkin' all this way to come and bother me while Im out here enjoying nature with my ladies?"
Maevis was quiet for a moment, taken aback by how biting the Queen was being this early in the day. Today was a day for her to tread lightly, as it seemed that Anisa's fuse was shorter than it normally was.
"I- uhm, well." Maevis cleared her throat, she felt her face warm with embarrassment from her sputtering, "Councilman Cyrus called for another meeting."
"What for?"
"He wanted to check the temperature on the king, see how he's doing with the blueprints for that Youth Center."
"Didnt we just give him those yesterday? How has there been enough time to check for his progression?" A frown already taking over Annie's lips.
"Its not a check for progression, he just wants to know where the king is at with it."
Like that aint vague as hell, Annie quipped in her mind, she already knew it was some bullshit from the get go. It didnt help that she didnt want to see Smoke's ass either.
"So what do I have to do with this? Why not just meet with him yourself?"
"We figured it would be good for you to just have an ear in it, just so your up to date."
Annie sighed, If yall were competent and did good on what you said, you wouldnt need me to be around all the damn time to listen to every little ass detail.
"Alright."
_______________
.
.
.
Annie stiffly took her seat next to Smoke, agitation radiating off her in waves. He already looked heavily uninterested in this last minute meeting that he most likely thought was bullshit too.
The only good thing to thos was the fact that Maevis and Obidiah were more subdued in their demeanor this go 'round. No doubt they could feel that she was not in a very patient mood today like she normally was.
All that ire she was carrying in her chest; Mary, Stack, the Council, the whispers, Elijah without allowing much to spillover thanks to that much needed outting with Pearline was beginning to ramp back up. Especially now that she was right between two of the culprits that were part of the reason.
She spared no greeting, no aknowlgment whatsoever of her husband. He had the nerve to look put off by her restricted demeanor.
He needa fix his damn face, lookin' at me like I done him wrong or somethin'
Luckily her thoughts didnt show up on her face which remained neutral and stoic.
No one spoke, they all were looking to her to say something to get the ball rolling.
Already on a short fuse, Anisa broke the silence, voice low and clipped, "Well Im hear now. You dont need to wait on me to start."
All but Smoke fidgetted uncomfortably in their seats, the jingle of jewelry chiming together with each stilted movement with some quiet grumbling from the council.
It was a very clear sign to the elders that she was not having it with them today. Hell, she'd probly fire them on the spot if they said one wrong thing trying to push their luck like they would any other day.
Cyrus, sensing some of the mounting tension lightly coughed in his hand to add a break into an ever mounting tension. "Ehm- first I want to say thank you your majesty's for coming to this meeting on such a short notice... It is greatly appreciated. I assume Maevis explained the nature of this meeting my queen?"
She hummed in agreeance. It was the most aknowlegment he was going to get out of her today, so he went straight into the order of business.
"So... My King, how are you finding the planning for that youth center? I take it you been hard at work?"
Smoke gave a distracted hum, he had not taken his eyes off the Anisa from the moment she entered the councul meeting room all while she was pointedly not meeting his eyes. "Seein' as I only got the blueprints yesterday there aint much to report on, but its been goin', kinda wanted to rework the orginal build so Its been keepin' me busy."
"I bet it has" Anisa muttered under her breath. Smoke no doubt could detect the sarcastic haughtiness in her tone.
"Yeah. The library damn near became my second room right behind my bedroom." He grunted.
She stiffened a bit at the mention of the library, but her face gave nothing away. She hummed, choosing to ignore his goading, "Is that enough of an update for you? Councilman Cyrus?".
The older man seemed caught up in trying to piece together what was being said between the royal spouses and what wasnt said at the same time. "Cyrus-" Her stern voice cut through his wondering.
"Oh- uhm, yes my queen?" He sputtered, unsure and a little embarrassed to be caught not paying attention while simultaneously being the one to call this impromptu meeting in the first place.
"I believe, as you can see Cyrus, the king has everything under control, Im sure he'll ask for your aid should he he need it immediately." And with that, as far as Annie was concerned her part of the meeting was over, she shifted in her seat, ready to make her exit as soon as possible.
Luckily, for once in their old incompetent lives the elders got the hint and swiftly and quietly exited the room.
'Cause what she was not gonna do is play along with what Smoke was trying to get at. Tryna be lowkey slick mentionin that damn library. Let alone at a council meeting infront of company. Granted it was such a subtle comment, given the nature of the discussion, that no one would piece together an idea of what he was implying underneath, but still. It was already taking all of her patience to hang onto (barely) some form of politeness with everyone. That was not reserved for the man that was the aided in her being this prickly in the first place.
Once everyone left, Anisa fixed her skirts before getting up. As she did Elijah wrapped his strong fingers around her wrist, her bangles jingling at the motion. "You aint gotta be all snippy with me, the day just started and it look like you startin'."
This man-
She roughly wrenching her hand out of his firm hold. "Dont go on touchin' on me. I told you before already, you been lost your damn mind." She was out the door before he could get another word in. The skirt of her dress fluttering about with the speed she exited the room with.
It was like being brought back to the beginning, with the queen having this seemingly magical ability to dissappear from him again.
.
.
.
She didnt make an appearance at their shared balcony that evening, what had steadily become their ritual spot of quietly sitting with eachother before going to bed. Whether in shared silence or small talk.
Oh she real mad.
Elijah folded his hands behind his head staring up into the night sky. Watching the thin string of smoke from his cig curl amongst the numerous stars.
He let out a long exhale.
Maybe I pushed too much... He could feel something almost close to regret lightly hold around his chest. Not quiet a squeeze.
No... He immediately shut the thought down. With a woman like that, he'd have to draw it out of her, 'cause if he left it up to Annie, her stubborness wouldnt allow shit to happen whatsoever even if she herself wanted to. She'd just run all over him.
As fucked up as it was he couldnt find himself to fully feel bad about it. Not like she hadnt been teasing him all this time to get a reaction out of him.
And seeing how she reacted when he wrapped his arms around her... Elijah closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That glimpse of her showing how she desired him- He shook his head, softly chuckling to himself before putting out the cigarette and heading to his bed.
.
.
.
_________________
The next day didnt prove much difference.
Anisa was still holding out on him, avoiding him when she could, and when she couldnt she was being snippy with him, appearing to always have something to say whenever he spoke. She mostly did that when there weren't other people around, keeping things tense but still respectful infront of company.
It was amusing at first, but after a while Elijah was starting to get annoyed, already over the attitude that she was constantly, unrelentingly, giving him.
.
.
.
He managed to catch her walking down one of the outside corridors where there was always a pleasant breeze blowing through its columns.
He walked up next to her, discreetly folding his hand in hers. She must've been deep in thought because she jumped in suprise at the unexpected touch and proximity from him.
On realizing who had a hold on her arm he saw her face makeup almost instantly, she tried to pull her hand from his, but this time he was prepared for her to do something like that. He firmed his grasp on her hanf preventing her from leaving, "What are you?-",
"Just what do you think you doin'?" He grunted, eyebrows furrowed.
"Huh? What I think Im doin'? Tryna stay the hell away from you is what. Which you like to make impossible for me the way you chasin' me around like you some unruly dog with nothin' better to do."
"You better watch yourself woman." He warned.
"Or what?" She stopped and turn towards him, pushing into his space, puffing her chest out against his. "Whatchu gon' do Smoke? Huh?... Run your mouth some more? Talk about how you mean whatchu say? Drone on 'bout how you not like them "other" men?"
"Nah, you dont get to do me like that."
"Boy if you dont leave me 'lone-"
He firmed his grip on her arm and pulled her right back to him, "Uh-uh, Now what you not gon' do is start sayin' shit that aint true. You know what kinda things Im willin' to do for you. Things Ive already done. I even left that lame ass friend of yours live instead of just killin' his ass 'cause he made you upset in your house."
She paused, he saw her eyes flutter, she faltered slightly.
"Oh so you quiet now? Seemed like you couldnt run outta shit to say to me these past days."
That quickly broke her out of her little quiet spell she just had. At first she looked angry for a split second, before it quickly dissipated, replaced by a cool expression.
She hummed thoughfully, though the silence she held was charged.
"You know... not too long before I came to get you again from that meeting. The one where Cyrus first gave you those blue prints, I talked with Mary."
"..."
"She havin' some problems with that crazy twin of yours. Think he cheatin'."
"Hm." Smoke felt himself increasingly become more apprehensive, unsure of where she was going with this.
"Mhm. Said she wanted to switch twins cause he givin' her a headache... Maybe she's right."
She felt Smoke stiffen next to her
"The fuck you mean by that." His anger flared.
"I mean exactly what I say."
He kissed his teeth, " If you were in your right mind, you wouldnt take half the words that girl says out her mouth."
"And what? Im supposed to take your word over her's?"
"If you know whats good for you"
"If I know whats good for me?" She reiterated, incredulous. "You think just 'cause you been here a lil while as King and I give you some projects means you must know everything then huh?"
"That aint what Im sayin'. You need to watch that friend of yours."
"Mary? The woman thats been one of my closest friends since I was a child?" Her eyes turned to slits. "You gettin' way too comfortable to be sayin' shit thats not your place to say."
"Not my place? Im your husband, the one you married an' said all them vows to, so- I'd say its definitely my place to say that. You need to get rid of her ass."
"Why?"
"Cause she aint no good to you."
"How?"
Elijah paused, mulling over whether he wanted to tell her about the fact that she'd nearly slept with every past suitors of hers. Shit for all he knew those could've aided in her broken betrothals.
"She been sneakin' behind your back."
"Sneakin' doin" what exactly?" She folded her arms across her chest. Still agitated, but holding enough space to hear him out.
"All them past suitors of yours? The broken betrothals? She slept with a good amount of those men behind your back."
She froze as if she was put on pause, air didnt even stir from her. She held her breath altogether at the new information, digesting the bomb he dropped on her. She was quiet for what felt like hours before she finally spoke again, her voice quivered slightly but otherwise remained even.
"How do you know this? Where'd you hear that from?"
"Stack."
Her eye twitched. "Stack." She deadpanned.
"Mhm."
"An' Im just supposed to believe that? Comin' from the twin that like to stir up trouble?"
Elijah felt a flare of defensiveness over his younger twin but he kept his voice even, "You aint gotta believe it for it to be true, you cant keep someone around that moves like that. Its bad for business."
"Just bad for business?"
"Nah, it aint just that. She a shitty friend too."
Annie stared at him blankly, face unreadable, completely shut down from him. The change took him aback, loosening his hold on her. Her anger he was used to, her passion he was used to, and in small little pockets her joy as well, but this? The complete lack of reaction took him off gaurd.
His lax hold on her gave her room to slowly turn around and leave. Leaving him alone with nothing but an empty hall way and the gentle wind brushing against his clothes, and the ever growing distant clicking of her heels against the pavement.
.
.
.
She puts him on ice for several days after that. It wasnt like the previous times when she avoided him because he got on her nerves. This was pointed, overtly so.
.
.
.
________________
Smoke ventured out the estate again, but instead of his usual trek around the perimeter he took a detour. Walking through the dense, thick foliage-covered narrow path. The path he first walked through when he came here.
Damn, havent even left this place since I won that tournament...
Annie. His wife was the reason he was walking around in the middle of the forest.
He would never admit it, but her silent treatment was getting to him.
Regret that had been hiding in the shadows of his mind were trying to make itself known, and not for the first or second time either. His earlier bravado and confidence he carried was starting to flag and doubts started to seep through.
He took a deep inhale of his cig, head tilted up towards the sky, watching the dappled rays of sunlight flash through the thick canopy of trees overhead. The air here was thick and humid with the type of warmth that sits and doesnt move. He'd only been walking a few minutes and there was beads of sweat cascading down the sides of his temple.
He exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate into the air, mind in deep thought.
Maybe... I should just leave her be... Give her space...
It was obviously the best thing to do.
The sane thing to do in a situation like this...
But Smoke was anything but sane when it came to Annie. The very idea of accepting her distance made his stomach churn, as if his body rejected the very thought of doing something like that despite his wife's very obvious attempts at keeping things like that between them.
"Shit dont even sound right." He said outloud to nobody but himself.
He knew that speaking on Mary would only drive a further wedge between them but he couldnt bring himself to regret that either. She needed to be aware of some one that moved with that kind of specificity in her circles.
The way Mary moved was pointed, a pattern...
Elijahs mind started thinking of all the possible motivations for Mary doing what she did, what for?
Did she want to be Queen? Was there hidden animosity on Mary's side? Is she just plain stupid? An adrenaline junkie that gets off on the idea of doing things she wasnt supposed to be doing?
After watching how Mary moved for a while he was inclined to believe that the girl was plain stupid and just loved trouble... Maybe she did want to be queen, but as far as he knew and what Stack ran his mouth about her, he didnt pick up on her making moves that could lead to that kind of conclusion.
Didnt hear about or see Mary communicate with the councilmembers or show any initiative in taking on responsibilities, quiet the opposite actually. She seemed to like to lounge around with nothing much to do and just enjoy the lavish lifestyle of the uppercrust. Then again, maybe she wanted to be queen from the little power trips she seem to like having, as small as they seem to be.
But she made no moves to network, or make friends or acquaintances with any of the staff and servants. Not even visiting lords or ladies...
Unless she tryin' to sleep with they asses too...
She seemed to isolate herself in all aspects except between herself and the Queen, and their friend Pearline. But even that is getting shakey now, seeing how Stack's interaction with the woman pretty easily drove a wedge between the two, judging how she was huffing and puffing and ready to blow the whole damn house down, when his twin kissed her hand.
Either way it didnt matter. If it was up to him, he'd get rid of her ass in anyway he could just cause. He knew Annie would hate him for it... Probly Stack too. Lord knows what the fuck they got goin' on 'tween them two...
He had no idea what the hell was the nature of the relationship between his twin and that girl. Either way he was gonna have to have a serious talk with Stack eventually. He could sense all the moving parts leading up to something. Whether it was good or bad was anybodies guess.
Smoke hummed, "Man... you really know how to pick 'em Elias..." He said sarcastically to no one in particular, it was just him and the trees and their roots there to offer him a listening ear.
"Damn..." His cigarette was already finished. His mind must have drifted longer than he thought. He couldnt help but laugh at himself, the irony of it all. One of the first things he told Stack before going through this crazy plan of his was that he wasnt going any Politicking. And now look at him, tryning to piece something together.
He knew the reason behind this change of heart. It was that frustrating woman he couldnt get enough of, the one currently driving him insane with the way she snatched her presence away from him, and how determined she was in keeping it that way. "Tch." He crushed the butt of his cigarrette before flicking it into the brush. He turned around, heading back to the compound, whatever was happening the fuse had been lit a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before things would blow up. It was anyone's guess as to exactly what that would look like.
Soon as he reached the front gate he saw his brother waiting for him, gesturing at him with his hands animatedly. "Man what the hell? You know I been lookin' for you? Where you been?"
"Took a walk, needed to clear my mind."
"An you just left by yourself? Don't no gaurd come witchu or some shit? Whatchu need to clear your mind for?"
"They seen how I fight, I dont need no gaurdin' I tell 'em when their needed an' when their not, and in this case Im still in the front yard of the property." He grumbled impatiently, his own fuse was getting shorter each day. Not like he had a long one to begin with.
"I aint never seen you walk off that far, what had you runnin up an' down the jungle cause it was botherin' you that much?..."
Smoke didnt answer. Something Stack noticed he was starting to do more and more these days. He didnt like it. This new found distance that he was starting to feel grow between them.
Stack stopped talking for a moment. There was only one other person on earth that he knew would have Smoke moping around like this.
"Damn, you walkin' around tense as fuck. Got your shoulders damn near scrunched up to your ears and walk all stiff like you got a stick up your ass or somethin'. If you dont go an' put it on her good, all this bickerin' you two be doin' might be the end of all of us". Despite light hearted manner in which he spoke, he couldnt help the slight frustration he was starting to feel with his older brother leak through.
Smoke breeze right on past him without another word.
.
.
.
He set out looking for her.
He checked the gardens, she wasnt there.
The council room?
Not there either.
The kitchens?
Nope.
Library?
Hell no.
He chanced their shared balcony, thinking maybe she retired early in her efforts in avoiding him the whole damn time.
He was tempted to ask one of the servants on her whereabouts. Maybe Nina? Probly not, she was damn near like a daughter to Annie the way she worries about her. Maybe Damian? He was damn near becoming a mini Smoke the way the young boy would shadow him at times. It didnt help that Elijah always seem to have his favorite sweets with him whenever Damian scampered about, most likely doing what he wasnt supposed to. The boy stayed getting in trouble with the head maid.
Nah...
Not only would word of him looking for her reach Anisa before he could ever find her with the way word travels fast through the halls, (probly why shes been so good at avoiding him so far.) he didnt really want to involve anyone in their petty little spat they were having, let alone the younger ones.
Pearline and Mary were out of the question.
Smoke left the balcony, then his chambers. Once again found himself wandering the the hallways until he walked past the central courtyard again, irritated and somewhat aimless. The rush of the garden waterfalls did nothing to calm his agitated nerves.
Until he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching him from behind at an increasing pace. His body tensed immediately. The feeling of being snuck up on made his body pull tight, ready to spring into action at a moments notice, but he had to remind himself that he shares a space with multiple people, and he wasnt in the mercenary business anymore.
A feminine voice, one that most definitely was not Annie, obnoxiously cleared her throat behind him. An indication that the owner of the voice was expecting a response from him.
He turned, a scowl firmly fixed to his face, to see who it was. He was met by the pissed off form of the very last person he wanted to see right now.
Mary.
In another slim pink gown, brunette hair perfectly curled, and the incessantly tapping of her foot echoing across the expansive corridor. She was close to wearing her heel down to the sole at the rate she was going.
"Now, I don't remember exchangin' any kinda of words with you, but just who do you think your clearin' your throat at?" He rasped warningly, low and quiet
Mary looked slightly taken a back. His tone sounded different, but she quickly gathered herself, eyes narrowed. "Just who you think your talkin' to Stack? I been lookin' all over for you-"
"Who do you think your talkin to?" He cut in, "For how you stay up under his ass you should be able to tell the difference 'tween us."
"Smoke?..."
"Mary"
Her previous bravado deflated almost instantly, realising she was addressing the wrong twin. Drawing into herself, becoming almost meek.
"Well- um... have you seen 'em? Your brother I mean."
"Yeah, just passed him at the front gate." He tileted his head in its direction. "That's where you'll find 'em if he aint move from now."
"Oh- ok..."
She stayed rooted to the spot.
Smoke turned to continue his search, but he felt Mary's hand grab his wrist before he could fully walk away, "wait!-". He turned towards her, and she let go of his wrist just as quickly, as if she unkowingly put her hand on a hot stove top and burned herself.
"Whatchu want girl, I aint got all day."
"You lookin' for Annie?"
His ears perked, but he had his reservations still, especially with this woman right here... But it had been several days since he last talked or seen Annie. Still he didnt respond. Not that he needed to anyways, as Mary continued talking even though he didnt say anything back, just stared at her with the same scowl he carried everywhere with him.
"She always dissappearin' it seems..." she trailed off.
Hm...
Smoke wasnt a stupid man, running the streets as long as he and Stack have. He had an inkling of where this was going, but he needed confirmation of something. 'Cause if there was one thing Annie pointed out that he couldnt blame her for being suspicious of, is the fact that the info he got from Mary primarily came through Stack.
A man that at this very moment, the queen trusted as far as she could throw him, which wasnt much at all.
And all Smoke had besides that were assumptions and suspicions. Nothing concrete.
Shit- this was more of Stacks area of expertise, but as far as he was concerned Mary was a liability to Anisa, to his brother. And for that simple reason he wanted her ass out of here.
"Is that right?..." he didnt like the idea of having to seem intrigued by this kind of gossip, but he needed to give her rope, and if his assumptions were right, it would be just enough for her to hang herself with...
"Yeah. You aint gotta say nothin' shes my friend, known her since we was kids and could barely string words together." Mary breathed out a light chuckle, filling in the uncomfortable stretch of silence, as Smoke remained stone still. His unwavering eye contact made her feel slightly uneasy, but she pushed on. "I know she aint always the easiest woman to deal with. Seein' whats been goin' on between you two its not hard to assume that it's somethin' your already aware of."
"What makes you say that? What's a 'lil bickerin' gon' do to me? That shit dont bother me none. I like a woman with a 'lil bite." He shrugged.
"Yeah, but all the time though? I cant recall a long enough period where yall two went without there bein' an issue. You dont crave a 'lil peace?..."
Oh she bold.
"An' whatchu know 'bout peace?" He grunted, like you dont do shit but carry trouble an' cause problems. His patience for this was already ticking with each second he was spent hold up by her and hearing how Mary was speaking of Annie was not helping.
He saw a flash of movement from the corner of his eyes. His sight briefly flitted to a shadowed hallway.
"Oh I know plenty 'bout it... Know enough to see that, that aint what you gettin' from her-"
"You betta watch that loose mouth a your's, talkin' bout my wife like that." He stepped to the woman, his presence looming over her slight form. Her eyes widened for a split second, her stance faltered.
Smoke didnt let up, "Dont think I dont know whatchu tryna do. What you've done already- goin' 'round behind her back, fuckin' the scraps she wouldnt give the time of day to."
She was taken aback, her body jerked as if he'd just slapped her. Her face heated with embarrassment, a ruddy pink marring her cheeks as she began to sputter, " I- wha? Where you hear that from?!" She hissed.
Not a denial. Not a defense. An accusation that carried venom and a silent vow to poison whoever leaked such info and allowed such a thing to spread.
"Dont matter." He gruffed, his words final.
"You tell anyone this?"
He remained silent, it was the loudest silence Mary ever heard in her life, her body language screamed of agitation. The way her fingers started fidgeting. That mouth of her's that always put on gentle smile contorted into a deep sneer. Until suddenly she stopped fidgetinf, he could see in real time the gears turning in her head as she was caught red handed.
Her light unbothered tone contrasted the twisted look on her face. "I find out anyone else know about this... find out if they heard it from you? If I Annie hear about this, Imma bury you. Ruin this shit for you an' your brother quicker than you can reach the end of this damn hallway, your asses will be gone 'fore the sun even get a chance to set the same day..."
He leaned away, a cool mask of indifference took over his expression, folding his arms across his wide chest. He cocked his head to the side, looked her up and down and it wasnt in a suggestive manner. He was analyzing her, deliberating.
"Im gone' tell you somethin', an' Im only gon' say this once. You can go head an' do whatever it is you do, just know this... You out here threatin' me... Threatenin' my baby brother, sneakin' my wife. Ill make sure your ass is buried 'fore the night ends whether they send my ass away or not. Shoot, I might even put your body beneath them pretty flowers beds by the fountain or maybe Annie's 'lil herb garden. 'Least that way you'd be some use to her, returning her kindness to you by bein' fertilizer for her lemongrass or her ginger root that she put in them little healin' remedies of hers..." the casual tone of his would've fooled someone into thinking he was discussing something as inoffensive as what the time was.
He scoffed, "Only thing savin' you from me gettin' rid of your 'lil pasty ass is that Annie would hate me for it." And with that he breeze past her unfazed, his path took a detour, fillowing the hallways where he could've sworn he detected movement.
Leaving a behind a speechless Mary rooted to the spot, her heart in her throat. A part of her wanted to retaliate, call his bluff but...Something about the older twin made her stop herself. If even half of the things Stack said to her were true about what he and Smoke did to make Brandon tuck tail and scurry on outta here... Then he wasnt a man that made empty threats, he made promises.
A shiver went up her spine. The chill that came over the intimidating man when she threatened him was unlike anything she experienced.
Mary resumed walking, her movements stilted and akward, as if in a daze. Her mind was a maelstrom with this new revelation that he knew of some of her escapades with the queens ex suitors which meant there were more than a couple of people were privy to the "rumor".
She was determined to find out how he found out. She had an inkling of who it might be...
_________________
.
.
.
Smoke walked towards the hallways were he swore he could sense movement. He didnt know why but something in him told him to follow. He thought he was going crazy cause there was no noise to accompany the idea that someone was there, until he reached the open mouth entrance that led into an interior of the main building. A flash of a deep Azure hemline skirt disappeared around a corner before he could fully catch whoever it was.
He followed, his feet picking up the pace to catch up to them. Clearly the person heard him trailing because he could hear the click of their footsteps quicken, aware of the fact that they were being followed.
He bent another corner, almost crashing into Nina, "-Oh! Greetings your highness is there something going on? You look to be in as much of a rush as-"
"''Scuse me, sorry Nina- cant talk right now. I'll get back witcha'." Manuervering around the young lady without a hitch, just in time enough to catch more of the skirt of a royal blue dress dissappear around the corner.
The closer he got, he could hear the soft chimes of delicate jewelry brushing against one another. There was only one person that it could be walking around with that distinct noise.
He was increasingly closing the distance following through the maze of hallways, each turn getting closer and closer. Until one final turn had him able to see her fully before she turned another corner. The swiftness in which she moved was starting to make him dizzy and the constant evasion was starting to piss him off.
"Annie"
He heard her footsteps falter at the mention of her name... Right before she picked up the pace again.
Luckily for Elijah, that slight falter she made allowed him time to close the distance she was keeping between them just a bit more. When he his the next turn he was able to fully see the back of her. Her deep blue gown fluttering just above the ground, making it look as if she was floating across the stone floors. Her smooth, deep brown skin looked radiant even in the diffused lighting of the windowless hallways of the interior. Even now the glint of her ever present golden jewelry caught in the low-light like a beacon.
He drank the image of her in, like a parched man stumbling upon an oasis after wandering the desert for many days.
"Anisa."
She ignored him.
"Annie! I know you hear me callin' you-" he grunted.
She walked up some steps, the light of the sun coming back in full force. His eyes squinting against sun light peaking through the pillars of the second floor of the estate walkways.
He knew exactly where she was headed, as it was mostly royalty and their guests were stationed on the second floor of the main compound. She was heading to her chambers. No doubt to lock him out. Literally.
Just as he passed the door to his own room, Annie had her hand firmly wrapped around the door handle to her Royal chamber ready to twist.
"-You better come an' talk to me. I know you heard all that."
She opened the door with a little more force than necessary. He expected an immediate slamming of the door in his face as she physically communicated how much she did NOT want to talk with him.
She stormed past him but unexpectedly left her door completely opened. A silent invitation, albeit a tenuous one.
He slowly walked in, realizing in all this time he never been in her room before. It felt cozy, the warm, spiced scent washed over him like a phantom's touch. Cinnamon? Her room was an array of earth tones. He could see it having a calming effect on anyone embraced by the space. But at the very moment, it felt as unwelcoming as the woman who it belonged to.
"Well?..."
A dry, humorless laugh escaped her. She shook her head, her back still facing him. "Boy you... you REALLY got alot of nerve."
"Then tell me. Tell me how I got a lot of nerve then." For as deceptively calm they both sounded, there was an ocean of unresolved tension, things left unsaid, and an undercurrent of emotions in its depths threatening to spill over, like a fractured dam whose faults only grew bigger, and deeper overtime.
Annie let out a tired, frustrated sigh. "You... you just-" she turned, facing him. Her brows furrowed, face full of displeasure, her full lips turned up in a frown. None of it took away from how beautiful she was.
"You know what? Nevermind, I dont know what I was thinkin'. Leave." She waved him off.
"No."
"What?"
"I said no. I aint leavin' this here room." He said with an edge of stubborness, promising to be just as difficult as her in this moment.
"If you dont leave I'll-"
"You'll what? You been avoidin' for almost a while week now without another word. Were going to talk."
"There aint much to talk about."
"The fuck you mean there aint much to talk about?"
"Well, there aint. You proved your point. Heard it straight from the horses mouth that my friend I've known for almost my whole life been on some back doorin' shit. You happy now?"
When He didnt respond immediately Annie continued,
"For all I know she might be part of the reason for my reputation being known as being "difficult" to be betrothed to. The reason my council came up with makin' a whole fiasco of a tournament just to get someone to marry me, like Im some unruly, desperate woman whose unfit to be a wife. Shit- they probly makin' me look like Im unfit to be a damn ruler." Her breathing became slightly elevated, she was getting worked up.
"After all the things I gone through..." she locked eyes with Smoke. "She was right along with me, seein' all the moments where I started feelin' like I was inadequate. As a woman... As a potential wife..." her voice becoming uncharacteristically small, a crack in her vulnerability.
"An here I was, isolatin' myself from her an' Pearline, thinkin' it was the right thing to do. Maybe somethin' in me felt that things were off. I was just too distracted." She brought her hands to her face, covering it as she took a deep breath.
"Now Im here feelin' like a damn fool after you told me what she was about. An' I refused to listen...Is that what you wanted huh? To prove a point?" Her temper flaring back up.
"No thats not-"
"Maybe you shouldnt have turned her down. Since she seems to know so much about bein' a mans peace, seems like its worked for her so far, I aint built for that shit."
"You aint even makin' no damn sense right now woman. How much you heard?"
"I heard enough. I aint gotta make sense to you, you stay talkin' bout how you not like them other bums I dealt with before and you know what? You right. You way worse then any man I had to deal with, you just wanna prove a point, thats all you wanna do." She hissed at him, pushing at his sturdy chest.
"Now get the fuck outta my room Smoke, I dont know what the hell you thought you was gon' accomplish followin' me all the way up here." She turned her back, pointed letting him know that the conversation was over and she would ignore him beyond this point.
Wordlessly, and not for the first time either, Elijah grabbed a hold of her arm, spinning her around to face him, his eyes so heavy on her, she swore she could feel the weight of his gaze. "How many times you gon' grab me?!-"
His voice came quiet, low and raspy, " As many times until you remember that, that aint the name you call me." He walked her backwards, firm but not forcefully, his grip loose enough that if she wanted to escape she always could.
She never did.
The back of her knees met the side of her bed and he continued to press until her back met her bed. Her soft body jostled slightly off the springy mattress.
A sharp breath escaped her, completely caught off gaurd as Elijah loomed over her, strong hands still wrapped around her wrists. Her eyebrows creased together, nose widened in anger, preparing to curse him out or slap the hell out him, maybe both. "If you dont get your sorry ass-", he grabbed her face, pulling towards him, searing her lips with an almost bruising pressure. Teeth almost clacking together in the heat of it. As if he was trying to pour out every once of anger and irritation he was building towards her in that one kiss.
Disappointingly she feels her own body yield slightly. Feeling her shift in demeanor, he softened, with her now able to feel the plushness of his own lips fully as he switched to lightly nipping her own, before he pulled his face away from hers. His breath newly labored from him kissing her, his face showing only mild irritation. "You dont know what you do to me? You piss me off like nobody else." He moved his face to the side of her neck, she could feel the vibration of his voice rumble against her own chest. The warmth of his breath ghosted across the nape of her neck, " An' nobody put a fire in me like you do." He lightly kissed her neck. She instinctively moved her head to the side to give him more access letting out a soft sigh, before he started to travel a little lower. "If you aint have a heart for her ass, I woulda done her the same way I did your other "childhood friend, 'cept I would've finished the job" His voice rough and gravely, juxtaposed to how he softly nipped at her collar bone.
"Dont say them kinda things. You dont mean that 'Lijah", she groaned. Her jewelry chimed with every slight squirm she made.
There it was, the way her rich soft tone wrapped around her little nickname for him. He pulled back, "when you gon' learn woman? How many times imma have to tell you I say what I mean..."
His hands that rested at her wrists started to move. Gently grazing across her smooth skin with the delicate lightness of a feather, a sharp contrast to his earlier handling of her. Wherever he touched he left a trail of heat and goosebumps in its wake. Distractingly making her hyper aware of the position they were in now. That intensity in his eyes never changed, as his hand settled on her waist briefly.
"I know what gotchu more upset, you bein' more vicious than usual... Its my fault aint it?" He cooed softly.
His warm callous fingers lightly fanned across her body. His hands traveled up, brushing over her sides, chest, barely grazing her peaked nipples as he brought both hands to either side of her neck. Leaving a trail of heat in their wake wherever he touched, before he seared his lips across her own once more, this time much more gentler than before. Her breathing deepened and her body became restless.
He didnt linger too long, she felt his warm hands start to travel lower and could feel her body start to heat up in anticipation, her body kept the score from when he last touched her. When he set a fire in her so deep it refused to cool down since. Distance just made the ache worse.
She was so keenly aware of his touch as one of his hands traveled lower, brushing past her hips, Annie could've sworn she could feel every ridge of his fingertips prints through her dress.
She held her breath, body taut, wordlessly shifting her legs, slightly parting them. A silent invitation. One he took graciously.
His hand traveled up one of her plush thighs, before reaching its destination at its apex. He cupped her, resting his hand against her panties. Feeling of soft, warm, and undeniably wet she was, if the dampness he could feel there was any indication, before shifting it to the side, feeling the heat of her flesh underneath. Only a slight hitch of her breath was the only sound she made giving away how much his touch was affecting her.
"Looks like 'lil miss down her got more sense than you" he murmured. He held his hand still, barely applying any of the pressure Annie really needed as she'd been incessantly aching.
She shifts her hips, attempting to push herself onto his hand, but feels him pull back again. She let's out a sound of pure frustration mixed in with desperation, she was starting to ache just shy of being uncomfortable.
Elijah's voice roughly cut through, "I already told you what I wanted to hear from you Annie. I need to hear it straight from your lips-" she lifts herself up from her lying position, her elbows digging into the mattress. She was already at her wits end with want, and he just set her off with his demands of her.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Your dick dont work or somethin?" She hissed.
"Whatchu just say?"
"You heard me." She responded, defiant.
As defiantly as one could look with his hand beneath her skirt. He froze, his face blank aside from his blown out pupils, eyes almost black against the diffused sunlight that flitered through the sheer curtains against the windows of her room.
She almost regretted what she said until he felt his hand move, applying morr pressure to where she was silently begging the most. She lets out a light puff of breath at the change, becoming very still as she leaned back down.
"You angry with me baby?..." His hands start to gently caress her folds, fingers grazing her clit with lightness of a feather, more pressure than he applied before, but not nearly enough as she needed.
"Smoke-" she gritted her teeth, the feeling of desperation was slowly starting to rear its ugly head.
"That aint my name- and I asked you a question." He berated roughly.
"Yes! Im angry with you" She hissed, but there was an unmistakable whine saturated along the edges of her tone. She turned her head to the side, as if she wanted to bury herself away somewhere. The admittance making her oddly feel vulnerable. A small part of her wanting to escape the unwavering focus of Elijah's dark eyes. Until she faced him again, her doe eyes boring into his before allowing herself to release her unfiltered frustrations.
"You comin' and tellin' me that my friend that I've known for almost all my life, been sneakin' behind my back with men that were courtin' me, just for me to come and see her try that with you- and then you-." She stops herself mid rant, letting out a harsh exhale as Elijah started to add more pressure, circling her clit gently before sliding his hand further down to where her she was yearning for the most. He slightly pushed one of his fingers into her wet opening, not enough to penetrate, but enough to feel its promise.
"Elijah..." she quietly groaned, it wasnt enough.
"I dont give a shit 'bout that lil heffa you call friend, an' whatever the fuck she up to. Im talkin' to you, about you." He grunted, "Its a part. But that aint all why you angry with me." He rasped, he grabbed one of her legs, lifting it slightly and pulling it to the side, spreading her open a bit wider to give him some more room for his fingers to work, one of them inserting itself deeper into her
"Ah- I-", Annie turned her head to the side, eyebrows scrunched together, eyes screwed shut. She felt more wetness pool out from her, her kneejerk instinct to close her legs were blocked by his body being in the way, leaving her open at his mercy.
"That dont sound like nothing to me, use your words woman. You aint have no problems usin' em' when you was lashin' out on me. Like Im some aint shit bum on the street that you can talk any which way to, like I aint your husband. What else are you angry with me about?" He pushed, his smokey voice wrapped around her like his namesake.
She was soaking so much so from all the pent up sexual frustration she was feeling that she could hear how much noise her pussy was making. Even the intrusion from his finger had her walls fluttering, desperate to pull him in further, hungry for more
"Im mad at how... how you left me." She rasped. Anticipation was starting to kill her.
"How I leave you?"
"You already know how you left me-"
"Nah Annie, I already told you. You better start usin' them words or I swear 'fore God Imma stop right now."
Annie felt her temper flare "how 'bout you leave me the fuck alone then If you aint gon' do shit"
He pulled away taking her undergarment with him, the heat of his hand leaving her where she craved most had her ready to properly cuss him out.
"You-"
"Hush up all that damn noise" He barked, "You sittin' here yellin' at me, talkin' to me any sorta way- all while you leakin' like a faucet up under me, messin' up these nice 'lil expensive sheets of yours an' I barely even touched you yet."
He roughly grabbed her hips pulled her towards his. Resting her now bare pussy onto his clothed manhood. She unashamedly tried to grind herself onto him, just to seek some kind of release, any. But the infernal man firmed his strong grip on her hips, restricting her movement. She almost let out a sob, biting her lip to prevent such a pathetic sound from escaping.
At this point she didnt even understand her stubborness, her refusal to give him what he wanted, but he was really starting to wear her down. Little cracks were beginning to form in her previously iron clad resolve. She wanted him. Bad.
As bad as he wanted her.
Just as she was about to throw caution into the wind and take pleasure for herself she felt him starting pull back slightly again, to deny her again. Her thick thighs that were previously laid out to either side wrapped around him, preventing him from fully leaving.
"You talkin' 'bout how Im crazy an' you over here makin' no kind of sense. You tell me to leave you alone and then you got your legs wrapped round me like you aint ever want me to leave. Which is it huh? You want me gone, or you want me to stay? I already told you what I want from you."
"..."
"You better say somethin' Anisa or I'll leave you as is." He warned.
"I-...", She fell silent giving no answer.
Smokes patience was wearing thin, unexpectedly he grabbed Annies hips, tilting her pelvis slightly upward with her legs spread. She let out a startled grunt. He grabbed one of the pillows that was strewn about the bed in all the rustling they were doing and placed it under her hips. He leaned back slightly drinking her in, eyes half-lidded.
The skirt of her dress had ridden up past her hips, fully exposing her lower half. Her upper half was askewed, no thanks to his earlier ministrations. One of the sleeves of her dress hung off the sides of her shoulder, her generous chest threatened to spill out of her top, her body completely lax, her hands splayed to her sides. Her beautiful piercing eyes almost arrested him on the spot,
Fuck. There aint no one on Gods green earth that deserves to see such a sight. Hell, he didnt even know what good he did in his fucked up life to deserve to see such a thing...
He quickly regrouped himself, focusing on the task at hand. He hadnt said a word.
Eventhough just moments ago Annie wrapped her legs around him to keep him here this new position felt deeply vulnerable and exposing as from where he situated her, he was looking directly at her fluttering pussy.
Oddly enough, the need to cover herself never came, the new position allowed her to melt into the soft mattress, even with the intense scrutiny Elijahs hooded eyes were giving her. A quiet, maybe equally insane part of her loved when all of his focus was directed towards her. However intense it was, she consumed it all like an addiction.
His raspy graveled tone cut through the breathing silence between them,"You dont wanna tell me? Fine... but you better show me."
"Show you?" Her voice breathless.
"Mhm..." His voice low, eyes lowered.
She didnt know what possessed her, but she reached down between her spread legs, parting her lower lips and started touching herself.
Circling her stiff nub, before flicking it side to side, she needed more. She released a sharp exhale, not realizing how long she was holding her breath.
Elijah locked in on her hand, watching as it gradually became more and more covered in her own arousal, the glide of her fingers becoming smoother as she continued to play with herself.
"When's..." he trailed off at a loss of words. He was in a trance. "When's the last time you touched yourself?" The words came out uncharacteristically strained.
"I- It's been a while... I almost did..."
"When"
He watched her hand intensely as she moved it lower, cirling her entrance but never penetrating, not only could he see how wet she was getting, he heard it. Everytime she brushed her opening it was as if he could hear her pussy trying to suck her own fingers in.
He was impossibly hard, he was almost suprise his dick didnt just burst open through his trousers.
"T-that night after the library... When I left you." Her breath hitched, she fucking herself with her fingers slowly.
"Why didnt you?"
"I- ah, I didnt think you deserved it." She whined.
"Didnt deserve what? Your pleasure? Your pussy? You?" He asked, stern, but an edge of desperation. His control was wearing thin, fraying at the edges.
He grabbed one of her legs in an almost vice-like grip, lifting it up resting it against his shoulder, parting them wider, just shy of uncomfortable.
"Ahn-" The unexpected shift made her fingers plunge deeper than she anticipated.
"Im waitin' Annie."
"Yesss..."
He hummed.
"You didnt..." she paused, "you aint made no good on your promises. You left me..."
"How I leave you?" He mummured softly against the skin of her ankle, restrained but anxious to hear what truth would leave her trembling lips.
"You left me aching... I-" she sped up her pace, fingers working furiously, her thumb brushing back up against her clit as she fucked herself with her fingers. Her head tipped back, exposing the line of her neck, necklaces sliding against each other at the action, no longer nestled between her breasts as they pooled against her neck and collar bone. "Ugh..." she groaned, low in her throat.
Elijah felt the muscles in her legs tense up, her hips twitched, simultaneously lifting and pulling away, as if they were unsure whether they wanted to move away or towards the release she was chasing.
Elijah quietly watched her, watched as her fingers moved in and out of her pussy, the closer she got to her peaked the wetter she got. The wet, squelching noises emanating from between her legs were down right filthy. It was music to his ears.
Her whines reached a fever pitch. He watched as her walls clenched around her digits then released. Then clench again, then release. She was close, her face twisted in a grimace, biting the bottom of her full lips. Breathing heavily, concentrated on reaching her peak.
Just as she felt her release coming, Elijah grabbed her wrist, stilling her movements.
A sob escaped her lips, "Lijah please-!" She almost thrashed herself around the bed. He lowered himself, pressing chest to chest watching as she squirmed. Her eyes were wet with desperation, she looked close to crying.
"Annie... look at me." he cooed quietly, calm in a way that commanded her attention. "You let me take care of you. Ya' hear me?"
She nodded her head so slightly, he wouldve almost not registered it. "Elijah please... I want more... I want you, please... take care of me. 'Lijah." She begged quietly, she couldnt take anymore, she felt like she was about to explode.
He kissed her softly, before pulling back "Thank you mama. Thats my good girl..." he spoke softly against her lips.
He knew how much weight those words carried for her. It was more than just to satisfy her, he wanted her to let him take care of her in anyway he could. If she allowed.
He gently pulled her hand from between her legs, making her whine softly at the loss. "Shh... Dont worry, Imma make it all better. I know you achin' baby. I know its my fault." He brought her hand towards his face, her fingers coated in her essence, before he brought them to his lips, getting a taste of her on his tongue. He stiffled a moan that threatened to to make itself known. He needed to taste her, needed it more than anything right now.
He replaced her hand back with his own, she was soaking. It made it easy for him to glide his fingers through her lips before inserting his fingers into her heat, all the way down to the knuckle with almost no resistance. She clenched around him in a vice grip. He couldnt help the groan that escaped his mouth. Her pussy held on to him like she never wanted him to leave her.
The noises coming out of Annie grew in volume, stiffled moans and choked off whines were the only things she was could manage. Her body was vibrating.
He slid against her body, removing his hand while he was lowering himself until she could feel his cool breath ghosted across her heated center. It made her shiver in anticipation, her already elevated heart rate sped up just a bit more. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his shoulders. In turn he wrapped his strong arms around her thighs, anchoring him to her, leaving no space for her to run if she wanted to.
He didnt let her wait before he went straight to it. Dragging his tongue across her slit, before thrusting it into her opening, licking on her like he was trying to swallow her whole. The sensation coupled with his nose bumping across her clit in tandem had her groaning, long and low.
He felt her fingers card through his curls, her nails scraping across his scalp, just shy of pain. It sent a shiver down his spine. He traveled up, focusing his attention directly on her nub, flicking it side to side. He moved his hands, one thumb sliding across her slit before it crooked, pushing one of her pussy lips to the side, exposing her innerlips to the cool air of the room before he shifted his hands once more putting his fingers back where she needed it most, steadily thrusting in and out in a come hither motion.
He didnt stop his onslaught of him tonguing her down, like he was making love to her pussy. "Ugh... shit, Smoke- 'Lijah, fuck. Dont stop. Please ah-!"
He could her walls rhythmically spasming, she was getting close again. He sped up his efforts. The grip she had on his gair tightened, every part of her body pulled taught like a drawn bowstring ready to snap. Annie' legs started to quiver, until they tightened around his ears, her hips working in tandem with him, grinding back and forth. She was damn near impaling herself on his hand like it was his own dick in her chase for her release that had been denied from her so many times
She let out a low, desperate keen before her body locked up, keeping Smoke in place as he felt her inner walls spasming and tighten, and she damn near drenched his hand with a new wave of wetness as her orgasm finally hit her in waves.
He never stopped stroking and licking her through, riding each wave until she tugged on his hair. Silently letting him know it was almost too much, she was starting to get overstimulated.
He finally eased off, his fingers pulled out of her with a wet pop. Her legs went limp at his sides as she was still catching her breath.
Annie watched him with blown pupils, her mouth slightly agape. Elijah couldnt recall a time she was ever as subdued as she was being now. She moved placing her hands on both sides of his face, one of her thumbs caressed his lips, her eyes half-lidded, looking at them intently before she moved it to his cheek, gently moving her thumb back and forth. She had a look on her face he'd never seen before.
Open... The quietness she carried wasnt one thick with tension, but one that carried a delicate vulnerability she rarely showed. She almost looked like she didnt know what to do with herself in the aftermath of something like this. In the quiet.
Any previous fire from before was snuffed out. He shifted, laying his body next to her on the bed looking at eachother. Elijah's chest felt weird with the way she was looking at him. Warm from the inside out.
He didnt realize that the thought to get himself off didnt cross his mind. Just her pleasure. He wanted her to feel good, in the moment, it was all that mattered.
He saw her eyes droop slightly she was tired. It was more than just the fact that he wrung the pleasure out of her, but relaxed sleepiness that came with a release, sexually, emotionally.
He knew everything was laid out in the open, it was still an unfinished conversation. But looking at her heavy eyes, they could get to that later.
"C'mere go head an' rest some." He pulled her to his warm chest.
"I cant it's only the middle of the day, I got things I have to do..." she trailed off, her voice getting heavy with sleep.
"The kingdom wont fall if you take an afternoon Anne'" he mummured quietly. He felt her body melt into his, her breathing deepened, tickling the skin of his neck
She was already gone.
He tightened his hold on her before settling, her drowsiness contagious and the warmth of her being in his arms was all he needed to follow her. Closing his eyes, the afternoon breeze caressing the room, calming the heat that was once there.
Elijah couldnt recall a moment in his life where he felt this content in someone's presence.
But she wasnt just anyone, she was Annie.
His Annie...
_____________
.
.
.
A/n: I dont even know... Just a whole lot going on, sorry for the waitđ„Ž
Fuck- I hate being shy, lowkey wanted to blow up writing this and not even post anything.đ
Just fade into obscurity, all dramatic an' shit.
*Im so sorry Annie, I dont know why I had that man torture you like thatđ*
Theres still alot of things left unsaid, conversations that need to be had so... Its only gonna get more convoluted from here, just lemme cook, I know where Im tryna land this planeđđ€âïž
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
i need a story where elijah stays. i know its canon that when they lost their baby he stayed for a couple of years before stack brings up the idea to go to chicago. but i need a fic where elijah was like nah. annie and elijah was processing grief and was barely talking couldnât without an argument and at first he thought it would be a good idea even annie tells him to go but he doesnt. and stack returns 7 seven years later to see annie and elijah gotten married and had some kids. and they still open up the juke.
Chapter Summary: Annie grows curious about the humans, but her grandmother warns her about them. Stack warns Smoke about going back, but they can't stay away from each other.
Disclaimers: Violence
A/N: AGH this took so long!! Thank you for your patience, and I really hope you like this chapter!
Chapter 2
âđĄïžâ
Annie returned to her grandmother's house that night.
âAnnabelle, where have you been!â Her grandmother, Odetta, snapped, but when she saw the other fairy flinch. She let out a sigh. âI'm sorry⊠I was just worried sick, you don't usually leave for so long.â
âI'm okay, just have been out longer than I anticipatedâŠâ Annie said.
âWhere were you?â She asked.
Annie always aimed to be honest with her Grandmother.
â...Well, I went towards the village.â
Silence filled the hut.
âYou went to the village?â Odetta asked.
âNot past the gate!â Annie exclaimed.
âYou think that changes a thing? Did anyone see you? You must be careful!â Odetta guided Annie away from the door and checked out the small window.
Annie watched with a worried expression, but she knew Smoke hadn't followed her. Why would he? She knew to trust him. âBut Grandmaââ
âNo, I haven't told you.â She turned to Annie and walked over to her. âAbout the village, and their mean ways. How they might kill the things that we sometimes do, but to an excessive level. How they prey even on us. Harmless fairies. View us all as monsters.â She put her hands on Annie's face. âYou better not make yourself known, they could hurt you. Kill you, and I⊠I can't lose you.â
Annie had heard a similar speech and had an idea how serious her grandmother was being. She had been raised isolated away, and she knew it wasn't for no reason.
Odetta took a moment to examine Annie, to scan her for any secret injuries. Any emotional pain. âYou understand, child? I have been protecting you.â
Annie deflated in her hold, but nodded. âYes, I understand, Grandma.â
She knew in her heart she couldn't avoid Smoke. Not at this point, but sheâd try to keep her distance. If she could.
She saw her grandmother start to pack a small bag with the jewelry she had from the ogre, some herbs, and food. She then looked at Annie and put the bag aside.
âWhere are you going?â Annie asked.
âI have to travel, Annie. I am needed somewhere else, but I will come back. I want you to hold down the hut here. You are old enough for me to help those abroad while you stay here.â She said.
âYes maâamâŠâ Annie nodded.
âDon't maâam me when I gotta go soon, babyâŠâ She then pulled Annie into a big hug. âI love you.â
Annie melted into her grandmother's arms and nodded. Then rubbed her back soothingly. âI love you too, Grandma⊠I'll be okay.â She assured her.
Odetta nodded, and she moved from the hug and kissed Annie on the forehead. âI won't be gone for long, and I'll leave in the morning. Then return after a short while." She promised.
Annie nodded, âOf course⊠Iâll be waiting here, Grandma.â
âđĄïžâ
A week passed, and it was growing colder in the village, and Darius assigned Smoke and Stack only to watch the village's gates. Not moving into the forest, and coming back right before dawn.
Smoke was on strict instructions not to let anything happen to Stack. He knew he would be in deep trouble if he failed to keep him safe. On the contrary, Stack was ready for whatever else came his way. But he wasn't without his own concerns.
âSmoke, we need to be more careful,â Stack said as he gripped the handle of his dagger. âWhat happened was my fault. And I need to be vigilant.â
His voice was soft, but full of conviction. Smoke couldn't help but believe him. He knew now they both had to prove themselves and make sure their parents didn't feel they had weak sons. They could do it, and they didn't want to leave each other behind. They were two halves of a whole, and did everything together.
It's been a week since he spoke to Annie and held her under the trees. That was the most he ever felt in his life. Other than being discouraged and trapped, she opened a door to other possibilities. He wanted to see her again, and he hoped she was thinking about him too.
He was lost in his mind and didnât notice that Stack was still talking.
âSmoke, are you okay?â Stack asked, and he put a hand on Smoke's shoulder.
Smoke nodded and cleared his throat. âYeah, I'm okay,â he grumbled, but then he looked towards the forest. That had both of them looking in the same direction.
âSmoke,â Stack stared, but then walked to the front of his brother. âI know this is going to sound very odd of me to say, because I don't warn you not to do anything. It's mainly the other way around. HoweverâŠâ He looked behind him and heard the wind rustle the leaves and branches. Making them hit against the trees. As if talking back to him, and emphasizing his upcoming words.
âWe can't go back there. It's a miracle how either of us even survived. The church said it was God that kept us here, and I believe it.â
He then guided his brother to look away from the tempting darkness that he was convinced drew him in. âWe only focus on shit coming out of the forest, what we were taught to kill. I know that now.â He took a deep breath and gripped his healed side. âI shouldâve died out there.â He muttered.
Smoke looked with a soft grimace on his face, and he wished he could tell the truth. Yet he didn't know when or even how to. He definitely shouldn't let him wallow by himself like this.
âStack, we won't go into the forest. Not during nights at the very least, but we are sons of fighters, hunters. We don't back down, you hear me?â He then moved Stackâs hand from his side and moved it to his sword's handle. âYou are strong too, don't forget that.â He said. Hoping his words would help his brother. Like Annieâs words did for him.
His brother paused and gripped the handle tighter. âThank you, brother,â he muttered. His shoulders didn't ease, but the words did echo in his mind.
A snarl was heard in the distance, and both of them turned to the noise. Revealed to them was a small group of goblins that held spears and hatchets. Stack scoffed and looked at Smoke with a ready expression.
âHere's our test, Smoke!â He exclaimed before throwing his sword up. âLetâs take them down!â
Smoke nodded and made sure to charge first. He went to the nearest goblin and knocked the axe out of his hand using his sword. It didn't even have time to swing as he sliced its head off.
Stack went to another and kicked it to the ground before stabbing it through the chest. He retrieved his sword quickly and turned to a goblin approaching him from behind and stabbed that one as well. He gained a fighting style that was quick and would attack the monster head-on. While Smoke kept his guard and body upright, he planned each swing with finesse when the time was right.
Each movement from them was effective, because each goblin. Which ended up only being 5, went down one by one. Their blood stained the grass, and Smoke stabbed the last one through the chest. He even picked up one of the sharpest-looking hatchets.
âWe could use this for wood.â He said
Stack chuckled, âYou are so resourceful, brother.â He then patted him on the back despite the blood that stained his hands. Smoke grimaced at the touch. âThat wasn't so bad, I still got it, huh?â
Smoke couldn't help but perk up at Stack, congratulating himself. âYes, you still got it.â
âđĄïžâ
When they went back home, they saw their father look them over and nod. âSee that no one is hurt.â He grumbled.
âYes, Father, we are okay. A successful mission.â Smoke said and put his weapons to the side to clean later. Then removed his armor.
Stack was about to share the mission in detail with his father, but then their uncle appeared from the kitchen. He immediately closed his mouth and greeted him.
âGood evening, sir.â He greeted and even gave a respectful head bow.
The Priest, Jedidiah Moore, Dariusâ eldest brother. He had become the head of the church through showing unwavering faith and handed the role years ago before the last Priest had passed.
He held a strict regime; everyone would follow the word of the Lord. Go among their lives as such. He had seen Stack lying on the bed, and in pain. Despite the sudden miracle he experienced. It was the talk of the town on how Stack survived such a barbaric attack.
He knew he had to guide him in the right direction.
âGood evening,â Priest Jedidiah said to Stack and then looked at Smoke. âYou ain't gonna say hello?â He said with a stern expression.
Smoke tensed his jaw and gave a small nod. âHello.â He said, and he heard his father smack his teeth.
Yet he knew he didn't say anything because he saw his own eldest about to speak. The look of an upcoming speech was shining in his eyes.
âYou both may be my nephews, but I worry about you as my own,â The Priest began, and he went over to Stack. Feeling his head and nodding. âGood to see you standing and still doing the Lord's work. Fighting the beasts that Satan had brought onto this earth to haunt our forests. Protecting the children of God will forever be what is called upon you. He tried to strike you down, but now realized he missed with a Moore. God placed his hand on you and reminded everyone that our lives are in his hands.â
Stack nodded and closed his eyes as he let his uncle speak over him. His own belief rushed through him as he listened to his words. âA miracle⊠he made an example of me.â
A miracle it was, and Smoke didn't disagree. Did he believe in God? Enough to know maybe someone is fucking around with them. He found comfort in the protective side of it, though, because why else would Annie appear? Had to be God sending her, too.Yet if he said to his family that a Fairy healed them. Their ignorance would make her demonic, and a thing that was sent to trick them into a grand evil scheme.
The more time went on. The more conflicting this was becoming. Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her and the way they relaxed into each other's arms purely in conversation. She has become an anchor to his existence, and he was beginning to think she awakened a sign of obsession in him. Maybe it was unhealthy, but he couldn't seem to care if she was able to save his brother and himself.
âLet's hope another creature doesn't bring you to where you were ever again. You were blessed with the ability to kill what needs to die. You both kill what is unnatural on Godâs green earth. That is meant for the animals, humans, bugs⊠but not those monsters. They all hold such darkness that can't be contained. Like the serpent waiting to tempt you in the garden of Eve.â Jedidiah spoke and finally let go of Stack's forehead. âI need you both to remember they ain't Godâs children. They are Satanâs puppets, and I need regular attendance to service. Let everyone know you haven't forgotten about the church. Understood?â
âYes, Sir.â Stack nodded and immediately softly bowed again.
âToo many monsters have been trying to pop up. But we can make it more often.â Darius said.
Elijah was stuck on his he acted like the creature of the forest couldn't condemn. As if they couldn't feel. He knew Annie could, and that made him rethink a lot of what they knew. There had to be more like her. They could think and emphasize. That could heal and bring you a whole new life. A whole new feeling.
He missed her, and he never missed people. He didn't have many people to miss, and his parents always came back. They were in and out. He did not need to miss his brother; he was always beside him.
Regardless of the new plans they were making for him, he knew he'd still be able to go to the forest. He needed to go see Annie; it's been too long now. The many times the sun rose and fell, he thought of how she saw the same one. Maybe thinking of him, because he was thinking of her.
Yes, he was going to go see her tonight. That was decided before he even woke up that day.
âYes, sir.â He quickly said, to make the Priest feel at ease and walk out of the house.
Yet he lingered; he always did when he visited.
â...Where is Elise?â Jedidiah asked.
âHanging out with some friends of hers, most likely talking their ears off about wife shit.â Darius shrugged.
âHm,â He appeared not pleased with the last word, but let it slide. âI guess she needed a break. A lot happened. Speaking of wives, I should get back to mine.â He said.
After that was said, he walked out the door.
âđĄïžâ
That night, Smoke went back to protect the gates. His mother and father have been watching Stack like hawks. Finally, giving him the true attention they needed from the start. Letting him rest more often.
He pushed that aside and knew his true plans were easy to take alone. He needed to see Annie, check on her after all of this time. He also needed answers.
After walking through the forest for quite some time, he was surprised not to hear any creatures screeching. Nothing disorderly. He wondered why he was taught that the forest remained unruly. However, there seemed to be a sense of peace tonight.
He heard a faint melody and decided to follow it. It was drawing him in, and it sounded familiar. The closer he got, the more he hoped he wasn't being led to danger. Somehow, he knew he wasnât.
His footsteps were soft on the grass because he didn't want to alarm the peace. The more he walked, the more he saw flowers along the sides of the trees. In all sorts of colors, but mainly pink and white.
He saw a now obvious path, tan and marked to lead his way. He got on it and followed it. It was clear who was singing.
Annie was seated in the front yard of her grandmother's cottage. She was planting some herbs and flying around. A gnome was with her, helping pat the dirt around each plant as she floated to a new area.
She wasn't singing any specific words, but the tune was serene. A repeated melody that strung at the heart. He wondered where it came from, but before he could even make his presence known, it stopped. Her back was turned to him, and her wings still fluttered. Yet she knew someone was there. She quickly turned around and gasped in great surprise.
âS-Smoke?â She stuttered and held a plant to her chest.
The gnome didn't make a noise but scurried away behind some bushes.
âAnnie.â He greeted and couldn't keep his eyes off her flowing pink dress. It was long and went to her ankles. For once, he cared about what could be under that and how her legs were crafted.
He never thought of a girl like that before.
âWhy are you all the way out here?â She landed on the ground and walked closer to him. Her voice was filled with that usual sweet concern.
That made Smoke realize he didn't have a real excuse. He faltered softly, but then adjusted his vest and cleared his throat.
â...I heard a melody, and I followed it. Realized you were at the end of it.â
Annie never had her voice lead someone to her purely by sound. She was used to animals or creatures rolling by. She wasn't sure how to take it, but seeing him after all of this time was a nice surprise. Her cheeks began to feel warm, and she had a soft, uncontrollable smirk appear on her face. She was trying to hold back a smile, but failed terribly as she stared into his eyes. âOh⊠wowâŠâ Annie then giggled.
He watched her waringly, and then looked a bit offended.
âAre you laughing at me?â He asked.
âIâm sorry but I didn't know you'd hear it.â Annie grinned, and gripped his hand. âI am shocked. Was I somehow only calling for you? Isn't that sweet.â She hummed, but truly didn't try to catch his attention. She couldn't ignore how it happened out of chance either. âDo you wanna come inside?â She asked.
He watched her cute eyes flutter and he couldn't help but let her drag him inside. He let the slight offense leave quickly as he followed, and he learned quickly not to be too on guard while around her. She only meant well, and he knew that. Tonight he processed her slightly long but pointy ears. Maybe he already did, but his mind was drawn to them tonight.
As he entered the cottage, his attention was sent to all the decor made of nature. The wooden tables, clothed with white knitted yarn. He saw small pots of plants everywhere as well, and were near windows or along the wooden shelves.
It felt magical on its own, and fit along with what he knew Annie for. Which was comfort, and the ability to heal. He watched as she decided to pot the plant in hand on the floor. He watched it softly unwilt.
His mind floated back to when Annie healed Stack. They didnât go inside but he realized they were nearby outside. The energy at the time was fueled by the nature around them.
âđĄïžâ
The night of the incident
Smoke had been following her for a short period of time, and was still recovering from the initial attack. There was fear instilled in his body over the critical condition he saw Stack in, and had to put all of his trust in Annie. A fairy he met tonight, but a part of him knew he had no choice.
She had saved them after all.
She would check up on him even as Stack's body floated along near her. She had emphasized during the walk that he was in a coma, but she had a shield around him. So floating wasn't going to disturb him. He knew nothing of the magic, and the bottom line was that he needed further assistance wherever they were headed.
âWe are almost there.â Annie said, and took a left turn.
As he followed they were led into an open space. A smooth piece of rock that was big enough to hold a body was in the middle. The place was naturally protected by trees, and other plants. Annie let Stack's body descend into the platform, and she rushed to his side.
Smoke walked up beside Annie, and watched her continue to heal him, and then she turned to Smoke when she moved her hand away. The glow from her hands diminishing. She felt a little weak, but didn't want to worry him further.
She was done, and the rest was up to natural rest. That's all that mattered.
âHe will be safe hereâŠâ She said, and then motioned for him to sit at a tree stump nearby. âRelax yourself⊠maybe you should lay down.â She fluttered her wings and floated to gather some leaves to adjust on the ground. Ignoring how he shook his head. She made sure it was adjusted right near Stack. âDon't even worry, I got you.â She nodded.
She then moved out of his way and guided him to relax on the ground she prepared. At this point of the night he didn't even have the energy to be stubborn. Because he felt a feeling he hasn't in a long time.
Security.
âđĄïžâ
Present
âWowâŠâ He muttered, and Annie looked at him and grinned. His eyes drifted to everything along her floors up to the ceiling. It was simple but loud with purpose.
âWow indeed huhâŠâ She had to hold back the urge to shout out her grandmother's style. So she just fluttered her wings and floated to the kitchen. âWant some tea?â She grinned back.
He nodded, and she went to the kitchen. He watched her and the way she floated away and then turned to sit at a chair. He carefully sat in one, and it reminded him that even if she was a fairy she wasn't tiny as described. It held his weight with ease.
As she went to fix his tea. She had to take a deep breath and her wings fluttered down behind her. She felt bad for already breaking her Grandmother's promise. Yet he knew where she lived, and she had helped him. Helping others was what she was taught to do as well.
He knew more than most and hadn't laid a harmful hand on her. She wasn't going to push him away now. Not only because she couldn't bring herself to. There was no need to.
âđĄïžâ
When she finished making the tea, she peeked out in the living room and saw Smoke on the singular chair. He seemed at home, and that warmed her heart. She then grabbed their cups and handed him his mug. They were made of ceramic so they could hold the hot liquid.
âHereâŠâ she grinned.
âThank youâŠâ He sighed, and blew the top softly.
She sat beside him and found herself eyeing him. She tried not to stare at his strong hands, and how precisely he held the cup. A young man who cared about his twin more than anything. A part of her wondered if she could ever reach that level, and if they were friends?
âSo doesâŠâ She felt her heart flutter as he lifted his head to listen. â...You finding my home means we are friends?â She couldn't help but ask.
He eyed her carefully, and saw how her eyes shifted to not stare back but anticipate his response. âI saw us as friends the moment you saved me and my brother. We are friends Annie, and you don't need to work hard for that.â He leaned forward and kept his eyes on her. They were intense, and she felt everything he was saying run through her blood.
Annie's eyes widened and she got a whiff of his natural scent, the slight musk but tamed by his attention to hygiene. She carefully sat up to seem unaffected by what she was feeling. So she just smiled.
âI'm glad we are friendsâŠâ She then sighed in relief. She reflected on how she hasn't had friends. For him to come around as her first really opened up a part of her.
âMe too.â He replied, and motioned at his tea cup âThis stuff is really good.â He said and felt safe enough to give her a small smile. He watched as her eyes shined. His heart hammered, and he cleared his throat.
Annie tilted her head, âI'm glad you like it.â She finally took a sip herself, and savored the taste.
They both enjoyed the peaceful silence, and he put the cup down when he was done with the tea. He gained the courage to speak again.
â...I can't stay here long, and I hope I'm not over welcoming myselfââ
Annie's wings shot up and fluttered softly behind her. âNo way you are over welcoming yourself! You are fine!â She said quickly, because she didn't want him to think that way. Not ever.
Even if her grandmother's words rung through her head.
Smoke was reflecting on his own family's words.
They knew they had to be careful, and it was hard to admit when they were becoming magnetic.
âAnnieâŠâ He got up and sat on the couch beside her. He then gripped her hand, and looked into her eyes. âRemember what I say now, I will visit you when I can. But don't come visit me, never go near that gate again. Understand me?â He whispered.
Annie frowned but nodded. She remembered his initial panicked vividly, and gripped his hand back in return. âYes I understand.â She muttered. â...How often do you think you can visit, I love our tea time.â She asked.
Even if her grandmother promised to be back in a week, maybe she could see this human was genuine. Smoke really cared about her and wasn't muderous as she described the whole village to be.
âI don't want to make promises and not keep them, Annie.â He then sat up. âBut I'll aim for all of my solo watches. Which is every other day.â He said.
Annie nodded, and rubbed his hand. Her then she let her hands run along his arm. She was gonna miss him, and even if she was getting handsy. She didn't really notice how much it was affecting him.
âAlright then.â She nodded.
His mind was short circuiting at the feeling of her hand on his arm. He wasn't used to such contact, and didn't want to make her uncomfortable because he enjoyed it.
âI must get going,â He said, and slipped from her touch. Then he put the cup down gently. âYou gonâ be okay?â He asked her and looked around the home.
Annie stood up as well and nodded. âYes I amâŠâ She chuckled, but her body warmed up at his protectiveness.
He relaxed only slightly as he remembered her abilities and he put a hand on her shoulder. âI wish we had a better means of communication if anything did happen.â He mumbled, but Annie only smiled.
âWe will be okay. I'll follow your rules. I should be telling you to be safe as well. You humans are fragile.â Annie said.
That made Smoke snort. âYou aren't wrong,â He took a moment to take her in before he even moved away. âSee you later Annie.â He said and gripped her shoulder again. He then turned to leave.
He couldn't bear it but he had to go. She followed him to the door, and watched as he walked back into the spontaneous forest. He knew it but didn't make a scene about her following him up until she couldn't. The soft flutters of her wings returned to her place.
They would see each other again. They would make sure of it.
âđĄïžâ
Taglist: @dealore @hdfen2474 @underated345-blog @brownskincheyenne @lilchubbs @thebumblebeesworld @myheartsaysyes @partylikemajima (lmk if I forgot or you wish to be added!)
Annie, an 18-year-old from New Orleans, moves to Clarksdale with dreams of building a life all her own. There she meets Smoke, a 21-year-old war veteran with a dangerous reputation. What grows between them is sweet, sticky, and Southernâ a smoldering love set against a world of bootlegging, Hoodoo, and blues.
Chapter 9
DesireâA Night-Blooming Flower
âShe was one of those languid women made of dark honey. Smooth and sweet, and terribly sticky, who take control of a room with a syrupy gesture. A toss of the hair, a single, slow whiplash of the eyesâand all the while remain as still as the center of a hurricane, apparently unaware of the force of gravity by which they irresistibly attract to themselves the yearnings and the souls of men.â
Perfume - Patrick SĂŒskind
Annie stared out the kitchen window of Nellieâs home, the pad of her thumb caught on the tip of an empty pea pod. She could see Nellieâs mama in the yard hanging linens from the clothesline. Beyond that, the hum of Fourth Street crept through the backyards and alleyways of the neighborhood. Smoke rose from the railroad depot a street over, coughing thick black puffs into the air that looked like a blemish against the bright blue afternoon sky. And somewhere in the distance, the sweet, rotten smell of the Sunflower River floated its way through the cracks of the modest shotgun off Ashton Street.
âLouisiana?â Gigi asked. She shelled a pea with quick hands, dropping the pod in the waste bowl. âYou over there daydreaminâ.â
âWith a big ass grin on your face, too,â Verity chimed in.
Annie blinked twice. âYeah. Just thinkinâ.âÂ
Nellie grinned. âMhmm. She thinkinâ about her man.â
Annie rolled her eyes but her mouth twitched. Her man. Her mouth felt dry, words trapped in her throat, but she didnât dare swallow. Not with Nellie sneaking glances at her, Pearline watching her closely out of the corner of her eye, and Gigi eyeing her curiously. Eventually the conversation folded back into itself. The phonograph skipped to a new song, shells hit the bowl in the middle of the table with a hollow tap, Verity started talking about living in Bronzeville. But desire bloomed under Annieâs skin like a bruise the more she thought of Smoke, spreading through her veins like a whisper of lightning before a storm.Â
âSo are you gonnaâŠyou knowâŠâ Pearline started. âGive him your virgin?â she whispered.
Annie turned her head to Pearline.
âUhh, I-I think so.â
âYou think so? Or you know so?â Gigi asked.
âDonât do it if you ainât sure,â Pearline added.
âI am sure.â
The answer settled into the room.
âYou scared?â The question came from Verity.
A beat.
âYeah.â
âOf what?â
Before she could answer, another question followed, this time from Gigi again. âYou scared of what itâs gonâ feel like, or how you gonâ feel after the deed is done?âÂ
Annie hummed in thought.Â
âBoth,â she said finally. âBut mostly what itâs gonâ feel like.âÂ
She fiddled with her fingers. âDo it hurt?âÂ
She looked up then, avoiding the direct gaze of the faces staring back at her.
Verity spoke up.
âAt first, yes,â she said honestly. âThen it feels good. As long as he know what he doinâ,â she mumbled under her breath.
âMhmm.â
âOh,â Annie trailed off. She rubbed her arms, looking down at her work. Their pile of peas was dwindling down as the day dragged on.
Pearline placed a hand on Annieâs forearm, the touch reassuring. âI feel like you in good hands.â
ââSpecially since he snatched you up so quick,â Nellie added. âHe ainât waste no time.â
âNone.â
Annie chuckled. She rubbed her arms again. âYeah, I guess so.â
She shifted her weight on the chair, her chest tightening. Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her chest, and she tried to ease it by taking deep, controlled breaths. As the conversation in Nellieâs kitchen turned into something lighter, Annieâs thoughts drifted back to what she finally admitted out loud.
The next dayâŠ
A bloody sludge of gills and guts covered Annieâs apron. Her fingers, the edge of the kitchen counterâcoated in it. She cleaned and gutted catfish, then skinned, trimmed, and sliced them with a thin, sharp knife, separating the scaly skin from the fillet after removing the entrails. The heads sat in a corner of the countertop, where Felix sat on the kitchen floor just below. Tail swinging, eyes wide, he looked like he was ready to pounce.
Annie watched him out of the corner of her eye.Â
âAht aht!â she scolded, pointing the tip of her knife at him. âDonât even think about it.âÂ
Some of the gunk from the knife flew onto his paw, which he looked down at like he was personally offended by its presence. He looked up at Annie and meowed, a short trill of frustration.Â
She talked back like he could understand what she was saying, looking up from scooping the kidney out of a fish. âWhat?â
âMrrp,â he meowed.
Annie rolled her eyes. âThat ainât my problem.â
âMrrrrrrrrp.â
âSince when you scared of a lilâ blood?â
Felix yawned and rubbed his head with his clean paw, licked the blood off his other one, then meowed again.
âLe pauvre,â she teased.
He whipped around, slipping out the back through the slightly cracked door. Just then Aunt Della walked through the same door, a basket at her hip full of root vegetables. Her hair was pinned back and kept in place with a lavender headscarf, her temples displaying hues of vivid black and silver kinks, coils, and curls that spoke to time and memory. She set the basket and her gardening gloves down on the kitchen table next to the chipped ceramic bowl of onions.
âWhat you do?â
âTo who?â Annie wiped the sweat beading on her brow with the back of her arm.
âFelix.â
âI ainât did nothinâ to that boy,â she huffed. âHe wanna stand in the rain and be mad he got wet.â
âFigures,â Aunt Della chuckled. âYou almost done?â
âAlmost done, auntie,â Annie answered. âGot two more left.âÂ
âLemme start heatinâ this oil up then.â
Three knocks on the front door interrupted their routine, causing both ladies to turn their heads. Loretta Hightower stood at the door, visible through the front window in a tailored three-piece set and matching hat. The vibrant green suit dazzled under the sun that cloaked the porch in a veil of honey-gold. Annie, elbows deep in fish guts, turned back to the catfish while Aunt Della walked over to answer the front door.
âDelilah!â Loretta squealed.Â
âLoretta!âÂ
They embraced. A long, familiar hold that spoke of history and friendship. The low murmur of their conversation carried into the kitchen as Annie stood facing the large back window. Felix was bathing himself with his tongue, staring at her like he had an attitude. She stuck her tongue out at him.
Soft footsteps and the click-clack of heels approached the kitchen.Â
âAnnie! Loretta got somethinâ for you.â
Annie gasped softly, turning and wiping her hands off on her apron. âWhat is it?âÂ
âYou got a letter back.âÂ
Annie jolted and hurried to the wash basin.Â
âOh, let me justâŠâ She submerged her hands down to her forearms in the soapy water, picking up a brush to scrub under her fingernails. âJust gimme a second. Thank you so much, Mrs. Hightower.â
Aunt Della and Loretta chuckled.Â
âItâs not goinâ anywhere, baby,â Aunt Della assured her.Â
âAnd itâs a thick one, too, Annie,â Loretta added.
Annieâs heart went from leaping, to soaring, to beating so fast it almost bolted out of her chest. She scrubbed death off her hands until they started to prune. They shook gently underneath the water, vibrating the basin and splashing droplets onto her apron. Aunt Della and Loretta could both hear the soft sniffles she tried to hide underneath the sounds of splashing water. Aunt Della approached her and Annie felt a hand on her back as she whispered something that made her calm her frantic movements.
Annie slowed her motions, dried her hands, and took the envelope, holding it like she held the world in her palms. She brought the paper to her nose, inhaling the familiar scent of her motherâs perfume and her fatherâs aftershave, breathing it into memory. She gently detached the adhesive of the envelope with wobbly fingers, her heart thumping in her chest as she removed a stack of thick, wide paper folded delicately from the envelope, taking care to notice the flower petals that were packed along with it.Â
Blue lobelias.Â
They were her favorite.
It was a visually striking perennial that grew in clusters in the field by her great-grandmotherâs shack. She remembered hiding behind them when she played hide-and-seek with her brothers as a child.Â
Annie wiped a tear that threatened to fall down her cheek carefully and unfolded the letter. The first thing her eyes ran across was her motherâs beautiful cursive that filled the page with soft, whimsical strokes.
Our dear Annie, was all she read at first. Then she reread it. And read it again.Â
The words hit her right in the gut. Homesickness burned deep under her skin, hotter than the afternoon sun that hung large and heavy and beamed through the kitchen windows. Deciding to read the letter later on, she tucked it back into the envelope, careful not to spill any petals. The thick envelope went into her apron pocket.Â
âThank you, Mrs. Hightower. Thank you so much.âÂ
Loretta took a step towards her, then widened her arms, bringing her into a hug. She rubbed her back with a soothing, maternal warmth.
âLemme know if you need anything else, okay?â
âYes maâam.â
Annie felt the long tail of Felix tickle the side of her calf as he contorted his body around her ankle and tilted his head up at her.
âMrrow,â he purred.
âGuess you ainât mad at me no moâ, huh?â Annie pursed her lips at Felix as he stared at her for a moment before disappearing into the front room.Â
âWell, I better be goinâ,â Loretta said. âAlmost supper time at the restaurant.âÂ
âThank you again,â Annie said.
Loretta nodded, gave Aunt Della a hug, then walked towards the front, the floorboards groaning under her heels. She hesitated at the door, looked back and gave another winsome smile, then slipped outside without another word.Â
For a moment, the cool air that crept in made the room feel less stuffy, like the crack of the door let something slip out with it.Â
Annie exhaled, her shoulders relaxing.
âYou okay, sugar?â Aunt Della asked.
âYeah,â Annie looked around, rolling up her sleeves. âJust need to do somethinâ with my hands.âÂ
She crossed the room to the woodstove and scooped a heaving amount of lard into the cast iron pot to heat up. She checked the pot of beans on the back burner, stirring it once before covering it back up. Aunt Della moved to the counter, rolling her own sleeves up and cleaning the catfish filets while Annie mixed the batter together.
The scent of frying oil filled the kitchen even as words didnât.Â
The two women worked together quietly preparing supper as the shuffle of boots became louder, attracted by the smell of spice and fried cornmeal.Â
Annie stood at the stove frying fish in batches, watching the corners curl up and waiting to feel the underside was the perfect shade of golden before it was ready to flip.
Annie was in her head.
Because thatâs where the letter lived. Not the words. Not yet. It was the smell of her parents soaked into the paper. The flower petals that brought her back to her childhood.Â
She didnât hear the door creak, the screen door slamming shut in that playful way. Didnât notice the floorboards acquiesce under the weight of his soldier-like footfalls. Didnât feel the air in the room shift. Didnât hear him greet Aunt Della in the background. And definitely didnât hear him approach her.
Two large hands gripped Annieâs waist. The scent of tobacco and peppermint, potent and personal, floated over her shoulder eclipsing the smell of hot grease.
Annie smiled. âHey.â
âHey.âÂ
Smoke set his chin on her shoulder, his hands firm on her hips. âHow you be?âÂ
âGood,â she hummed, the answer an affirmation that settled deep in his chest.Â
Better now, she thought to herself.Â
The homesicknessâgone. Thoughts of the place she calledâused to callâhome, all melted under his touch. It soothed her somehow. The way his grip was firm but gentle on her waist. Possessive when he pulled her in tighter and rested his chin on her shoulder. Restrained when a shaky breath hit the delicate skin of her neck.
Smoke noticed it all.Â
The way her shoulders slackened when he touched her.Â
The little jolt that ran through her body. Barely noticeable, but there.Â
The way her breath hitched.Â
The way she tried to hide it all.Â
That was his favorite part; the way she tried to mask her reactions.Â
Then she did something unexpected.
Before he knew it she reached behind her, her fingers finding the shell of his ear. She grazed it just once with her fingertips, the touch barely there. But still. He couldn't help but shiver. It was a full-body one. His grip tightened on her waist, fingers twisting the fabric of her skirt for a second before relaxing again. He watched the corner of her mouth turn up as she turned a fish filet in the cast iron pan. Then he grinned too. His lips twisted playfully, the dimple in his cheek caving in.
âYâall lookinâ mighty cozy over there.â
Stack.Â
He walked in, brows high on his forehead when he saw Smoke behind Annie like a vat of hot oil wasnât bubbling right in front of them. Steam rose slowly from the pot, beading sweat on both Annie and Smokeâs foreheads. One bad decision and a body part could end up with a third-degree burn.
But neither of them seemed to care.Â
They didnât seem to notice he or Miss Della were even there.
Annie swayed a bit as she flipped and dipped fish. And Smoke moved with her, a hushed conversation taking place between them as he rested his head on her shoulder.Â
Stack looked at Aunt Della like âyou seeinâ this?â She shrugged. He walked over and gave her a hug as she prepared sides with serving utensils, all the while eyeing the perfectly golden-brown catfish strips piling up on a platter next to the stove.Â
His mouth watered at the smell of the crispy fried crust and the spice of the batterâand he just knew once he bit into it, itâd steam and flake just the way he liked it.
So he took a chance.
He reached for a piece at the edge of the platter and two heads snapped towards him.
âYou tryna get popped?â Annie asked.
Stack pulled his hand back. âIâm tryna get some fish, actually.â
âYouâll get some when itâs ready.â
âIt looks ready.â
âI mean during supper. At the table.â
âI just wanna taste.â
Annie smirked, her chin tilting up playfully. âLater.â
Stack reached again.
âBoy!â She pointed her tongs at him.
Smoke watched the whole thing, amused. He didnât move from his position.
âGirl!â
âYou tryna get burned? Stack, you too close to the stove.â
Stack blinked. âYâall basically knee deep in oil.â He smoothed out his shirt. âBesides. A lilâ burn wonât hurt me, woman.â
âYou gonâ get popped with more than just oil if you donât move,â Annie said with a grin.Â
âMake it worth my while then,â he teased back. âLemme get a lilâ piece.â He was relentless. He eyed a strip with a crispy end that he could break off easily. He reached out for the third time.Â
Annie sighed. She had turned back to watching the pot now, but still caught Stack out of the corner of her eye. âDonât move that hand.â
Stack smirked.
Annie rolled her eyes, breaking off the end of the piece Stack was eyeing. Steam curled into the air as the fish broke apart in flaky, white pieces. âHere, greedy!â She placed it in his palm before turning back to the stove.
âIâll be that,â Stack teased. He hummed as soon as the savory spice of the fish hit his tastebuds. âThank ya kindly.â He swaggered into the front room satisfied.
Smoke finally moved.Â
âIâll let you get back to it,â he said. He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her cheek before following his brother out the same way.
Annie chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she finished the last pieces she had left to fry.Â
âI reckon everything goin' well between you two.â Aunt Della said.
Whole time, Annie had completely forgotten her great-aunt was even in the room. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of a momentâany moment with Smoke, reallyâbeing watched.
âUh yeah,â she replied. That familiar tingling she only got when she thought about him spreading across her skin like wildfire. âWe are.â
Annie felt Aunt Dellaâs smile from across the room, even with her back turned. She left the kitchen to ring the supper bell, the fabric of her skirt fluttering around her.Â
Men made their way into the dining area one-by-one, fresh from cleaning their hands. They carried with them the smell of musk, turpentine, and a hard dayâs work. It was heavy. Masculine.Â
The twins walked in last.
Stack came in first, all dimples and bright eyes.
Smoke walked in behind him still sporting that same dimple that showed up earlier when his eyes found hers.
He didnât hurry to sit at the table. Didnât hurry to grab a plate. He stood at the edge of the room, waiting as Annie and Miss Della brought in the food. A large platter of fried fish, a steaming pot of beans and rice, skillets of cornbread, and a large pot of greens went to the middle of the table.Â
The dining area filled with rising steam, watering mouths, and low conversation as the lodgers began to devour their supper.
Annie dropped her arms and stepped to him, the faint smell of pipe mix and soap clinging to his clothes.
âYou not gonâ eat?â she asked.
âWas waitinâ for you.â
âYou ainât gotta do that.â
He grabbed her hands. âI do.â
Annie tipped her head towards the kitchen. âLemme go wash up first.âÂ
âIâll fix you a plate. Before these niggas eat it all.â
Annie giggled softly.
âWhatchu want?âÂ
âJust some fishâŠ,â she said, walking backwards to the kitchen, âand some beans and rice.â
Smoke nodded once. âI got it.â
Supper was spent at the high-top four-seater table in the corner of the dining area. Smoke and Annie sat next to each other, Stack and Aunt Della directly across from them. They talked. They laughed. They ate. They drank.Â
Every so often, Annieâs shoulder would brush against Smokeâs. Sheâd reach across the table for somethingâher glass, the saltshaker. When she pulled back their arms would press against each other and theyâd stay there. Close. It felt like both of them were waiting for the moment something would force them to pull away from each other. It didnât.Â
Occasionally, Smoke would brush lint from Annieâs clothes or thumb a crumb from her cheek. His fingers would linger for a second too long, like they were waiting on her to pull back. She didnât.
By the time supper was long over, the heat still lingered.Â
It wasnât from the food.
Even outside where a cool breeze swept through the night in broken intervals, pulling a delicate, melodic sound from the windchimes that reached back into the yard where Smoke and Annie stood. A fading oil lamp hung up high, casting gold across the backyard and leaving the rest of it in shadows.Â
Annie didnât know why she pulled Smoke to the side of the lean-to shed. Or maybe she did and she just didnât want to admit it to herself.
She stood by it, back pressed against the wooden siding, hips tilted out slightly as her fingers twisted in the fabric of her skirt.Â
Smoke stood in front of her, jaw tight, hands at his sides. They flexed periodically, twitched like he was fighting something.Â
Natureâs soundtrack felt even louder tonight. The chirp of crickets shuddered in the grass. The deep bellow of a bullfrog echoed in the distance. And somewhere down the block, a harmonica played a gritty blues bend that floated down the street like smoke curling from a cigarette.
But the moment Annie shifted, the sounds began to slowly fade away.Â
She moved in one smooth motion. Her hands rose to the collar of Smokeâs shirt, fingers twisting around the edge. Then she tugged, just once. The movement pulled him in until his hands bracketed her on the shed.Â
She didnât hesitate.Â
The kiss started softly.
The slow smack of lips drowned out the crickets first, then the bullfrog. Then the metal-on-metal tapping of the water pump, its handle moving stubbornly with the wind. Smoke pulled Annie towards him as their mouths moved against each other. His hands found the small of her back, making it bow into him until she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave in to his pull. He sighed as the feeling of soft, plush curves met a hard stomach, strong arms, and broad shoulders carved by war and Mississippi cotton fields.Â
They kissed slowly. Like they were savoring the taste of each other. Their lips met and released, connecting in a slow dance that was all their own. Then the kiss deepened, their tongues coming out to play as they twirled around each other.
Annieâs hands moved from his neck to his shoulders to steady herself as their heads swiveled and they explored every corner of their mouths. She gasped, then groaned, when he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth. Biting, then soothing the sting with a lick.
Their tongues flicked against each other, slow and nasty. Like the harmonica still playing down the street. It had slowed down its tune, the legato wailing all sultry and soulful through the night.Â
Even that sound disappeared after a while. It was quiet in the bubble they created when it was just them two, just shared breaths and gasps for air.Â
Annie tasted like pot likker and the peppermint stick she sucked on after supper. Like home on a quiet winter evening in front of a fire. Smoke tasted like tobacco and grass from the cigarette he finished right before Annie pulled him into the backyard when she thought nobody was paying attention.
Her hands fell from his shoulders to his chest, rubbing her palms against the solidness that sat underneath the cotton. His hands traveled south from her back to the curve of her ass, his calloused hands smoothing over all the thickness that sat back there.Â
His blood sparked hot.Â
His hands itched to grip, wanted to grabâbut he pulled back instead.
âAnnie,â he rasped, his voice low and rough.
Their breaths were heavy, lustful. What began slowly was quickly turning into something more gluttonous than supper. He felt it in him. He saw it in Annie.
He pressed his forehead to hers. Her eyes widened as the noise from inside swelled abruptly. She turned her head towards it as her pulse sped down and her breath came out slower. When the noise dimmed down again, she turned back.
âWhyâd you stop?â
The question cut through the silence.Â
Smoke looked at Annie, her brows knit, her eyes searching his.
The oil lamp above them crackled one last time before completely snuffing out, leaving them with just the dim light that pooled outside from the kitchen window. A large wax candle sat on the sill, its fire burning dimly through the window. Annie looked at Smoke. Even in the near darkness outside, she could feel the hunger in his gaze.Â
And she felt the same way.Â
Famished.
Smoke lifted a hand. His fingers brushed the side of her face, grazing the smooth skin of her cheek. Annieâs eyes fluttered under his touch. Her hand grabbed his wrist and his hand stilled, but it wasnât to stop him. It was to hold him there.Â
âItâs okay,â she whispered, gulping when she saw the darkening of his eyes.
âI ainât neverâŠâ was all she got off before the words disappeared in her throat.Â
She didnât finish her sentence. She didnât need to.
Everything in Smoke went still except the muscle of his jaw that twitched once then stopped.
He looked away.
He wasnât surprised. That was the thing.
Her words were confirmation of something heâd already assumed about her.Â
But there was something about the way she said it that he filed away for later.
Sheâd never been touched.Â
Not like this.Â
And while he stood breathing desire down her throat with his hand on her ass, he felt something twist in his chest.
Guilt.
It moved in quickly, crowding his thoughts. Guilt for moving too fast. Guilt for letting his want for her carry him far enough that he had to stop himself before she did.Â
âI know,â Smoke said finally.Â
Annie looked away.
âLook at me.â
She couldnât look at him at that moment.Â
Not because she was embarrassed, ashamed, or insecure. Not really. She just felt inexperienced. Young in a way she hated feeling in anybodyâs eyes.Â
Her eyes traveling up his chest to his collar where she picked at a loose thread. âI want you,â she whispered, âto be my first.âÂ
The words were so quiet that the night almost took hold of them.Â
Smokeâs eyes closed for half a second. He pulled her close, pressing his forehead to hers.Â
âYou âsho?â
For a split second, his words sounded like a plea to Annie rather than a question.
âYes,â she said, grabbing onto the folds of his shirt.Â
The backyard held its breath. Here in their little bubble, the only thing that existed was Smoke, Annie, and this moment between them. Smoke took Annieâs hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, keeping his eyes trained on hers.
âYou mine?â
Annie grinned, nodding once.Â
âNah,â Smoke gripped her chin again, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. âI wanna hear you say it.â
She lowered her head, then looked up, her big brown eyes certain and glittering in the sliver of moonlight that peeked out from behind the clouds. Her lips parted. âIâm yours. Tout.â
âCreole?â
âMhmm,â she grinned proudly.
Smoke hummedâ a deep vibrating sound that shot up Annieâs spine. Her words were a soothing balm, loosening the hooks of guilt lodged in his back.
âGood,â he said. He rubbed her back with wide strokes, holding her close as the nighttime settled around them, comfortable and warm despite the November cold.Â
âOu mâap pĂšm?â
âWhatâs that?â
âYou mine too?â
âTeach me how to say it back.â
âMwen se ou.â
âMwen se ou,â he repeated back.
âYou gettinâ better,â she gasped, her whole face lighting up.Â
Smoke smirked smugly. âGotta good teacher.â
âMwen se tout ou.â
âThat too,â he grunted.
Annie snorted, turning her head briefly. âDonât be makinâ fun of me.â
âI ainât,â he shrugged. âThatâs what you sound like.â
He gave her a real smile then, dimples deep in both his cheeks. He couldnât hide it.
âI was so nervous,â she admitted, her grin wrapping around her words despite herself.
Smoke raised a brow. âNervous âbout what?âÂ
âTo tell you.â
âThat you a virgin?â
Annie nodded, hand finding that loose thread again. Smoke grabbed her hand and kissed it.
âYou ainât gotta be nervous to tell me stuff, you hear?âÂ
Annie sighed, pressing her palms to his chest. âI know.â
Smoke stared down at Annie. Her soft, panting breaths, her heart beating against his own chest. He raised his right hand to hers, covering her right palm that lay directly over his heart. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. The gestureâthe warmth in itâmade her look at him. Their eyes locked and held, the look between them speaking louder than any words could at that moment.Â
âIâm scared,â she said quietly.Â
âScared of what?âÂ
Their mouths moved but their bodies were still. Smokeâs hand sat over Annieâs on his chest like it was frozen there, his heart beat steadily under her palm.Â
âWhat itâs gonâ be like,â she mumbled, barely a breath, âthe first time.â
âWhat you think?â
Annie shook her head, unsure. âI donât know.â
Smoke ran his tongue along the back of his teeth.
âHow you want it to be?â
Annieâs lips twisted in thought as Smokeâs eyes pinned her in place. Their hands stayed where they were, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.Â
âDonât be scared.â
Annie said nothing. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak but decided against it.
Smokeâs voice dropped low and deep, rough with somethingâbut not sultry. He wasnât trying to make her shiver or choke on a gasp. Not right now. Right now he wantedâneededâto assure her. He needed her to feel the promise in his words. Needed her to know he meant it.
He looked Annie in the eye, the weight of his hand pressing harder against hers where it rested on top of his heart. âIâm gonâ take good care of you, Annie.â
The words were simple, but she felt them in her core. Her skin lit up with that familiar tingle, her heartbeat thumping hard against her ribs.Â
Annie looked down at her hand, shifting it slightly under his.
She could hear the promise beneath the words.
And something in herâsomething that felt older than herâtold her to believe it. So, she did.
âI ainât even thought about it like that. Not for real.â
Lie.
Smoke raised a brow. âNever?â
Annie shook her head once. Then she nodded, pursing her lips so the corner of her mouth would stop twitching.Â
âWell,â she breathed, the gust of air warming his collarbone. âA little.â
She rolled her lips inward and finally looked up at him.Â
The heat that had reduced to a simmer sparked up again. Smokeâs eyes darkened at her words, her curiosity, her comfort. Her closeness felt like second nature to him, but her vulnerability hit something deeper in his chest.
âWhat you was thinkinâ?â
Annieâs eyes trailed from his eyes down to his lips. They sat perfectly on his faceâ thick, plump, and so soft against her own.
âTell me,â he insisted, voice low and coaxing.Â
âI had a dreamâŠâ She looked away. Her eyes went to something different now since she felt his gaze piercing her soul. She focused on a bush of moonflowers by the fence, their wilting petals fluttering in the breeze like little ghosts. âAbout you.âÂ
ââBout me?â he drawled. Smugly, almost. âAnd what happened in this dream?â His hands traveled up and down her spine.
Annie fidgeted nervously.
âI donât remember.â
Smoke tilted his head. âHow you know it was about me then?âÂ
She hesitated.Â
ââCauseâŠ.â
ââCause what?â
âHow I felt.â
âHow you feel?â
The flashbacks came in waves. Along with a feeling she couldnât find the word for until now.Â
âFull.âÂ
The word came out so tiny, it sounded accidental. It was barely a word. More like a faint expulsion of air that drifted through the seams of his mouth. But it was raw, and it settled like a presence in his chest, latching onto the corners of his soul that housed devotion and something deeper.Â
Restraint pressed against every instinct heâd ever possessed and the inside of his slacks.Â
This woman had no idea what she was doing to him.
âWe should go inside,â he muttered. âBefoâ your aunt come lookinâ for us.â
Annie giggled softly, his shoulders relaxing at the sound.Â
âYou scared of Aunt Della?â
âYes.â
Annie laughed for real this time, the tension loosening just enough to let them breathe again. They walked towards the back door and Smoke held the door open for her to fully step inside.Â
The moon hung high above the rooftops, cutting through the inky black sky like a blade of silver light. It poured through the windows of Annieâs bedroom, making the lobelia petals that were scattered across her covers glow around the edges like they were suspended in a dream.Â
Annie unfolded her letter, her eyes scanning through the words briefly, but she was only looking for one thing. Something sheâd been holding in since Loretta first placed it in her hands.
The end.
The signatures.
She read it with shaky hands.
All our love,
Papa & Maman
Nana
Junior
Vernon
Leroy
Raymond
Maurice
They were all there.
Except one.
Uriah.Â
He was her closest brother.
Annie didnât know why she expected his name to be scrawled among the signatures, his chicken scratch inked deep into the paper. Heâd been dead over a year at that point. But the absence felt worse than accepting he was dead.
She still felt him, like him slipping through the cracks of the earth didnât necessarily mean he would be missing from a letter sent from home.Â
She knew it wasnât really his missing signature that made tears pool in her eyes, it was his soul.Â
Since the government refused to send his body back from France after the war, his spirit had been unsettled. Restless.Â
She felt it the most when she took her ilekes off. She always covered them, sandwiching them between two thin, white cloths that belonged to her great-grandmother, then set them in a drawer taking care that they didnât touch the surface of the wood.Â
Sheâd say a prayer for him at the tiny altar in the corner of her room that sat on top of a warped, lopsided, low table. It smelled of old wood, herbs, and dust.
Salt for protection and peace of mind.
A pinch of soil.
A Mississippi river rock.
His name written on a piece of paper. Pinched and folded in half towards her.Â
A half-burned taper candle.
Blue cloth. A snippet from his baby quilt, stitched from her motherâs, grandmotherâs and great-grandmotherâs hands.
Molasses chews. Because those were his favorite growing up.
She lit the candle, the flame catching blue at first before bleeding orange. When it steadied, she bowed her head.
âUriah Silas Antonio Royal,â she said. Her voice sounded tiny and helpless in the confines of her room.Â
âBlood callinâ you even though your bones ainât make it back.âÂ
She paused, taking a shaky breath.Â
Then she laid her offering.
âWater for the journey. Salt for your peace. Light so you can see. A piece of home so you remember. Think of us, and remember where you belong.âÂ
The candle flickered violently.Â
âAncestors, please,â she said, looking out the window to the moon. âDonât let him cross alone, he scared.âÂ
Annie swallowed hard to clear the lump that swelled in her throat, a tear drop falling directly onto the flame. It flickered and smoked, but the amber light held the line in the darkness of her room.
She bent over, crying quietly into the fabric of her nightgown, her tears dampening the delicate white cotton. She closed her eyes and the present slipped into the past, seamless and real. She could see it allâ the draw, the aim, the shot. The scream she could feel in her bones, muffled by wet soil, quicklime, and tarp.Â
Annie opened her eyes and the scent of graveyard dirt and saltwater hung in the air. The silence that came after wasnât peaceful. It was eerie.Â
After a while, she spoke again.
âAinât no guns tonight,â she said. She cleared her throat to silence the tears and took a few deep breaths. âAinât no shoutinâ. Ainât no mud in your mouth. Just light. Just a way home.âÂ
The flame flickered again, its shape bending against the darkness like someone was pushing on it.Â
Annie wiped the grief that lay wet tracks on her cheeks.Â
âItâs okay,â she rasped, catching her breath. âCome on home.â
The flame finally settled into itself.Â
Only then did she blow it out.Â
The next morning felt like a slow exhale. Annie moved around the boarding house with a lightness that felt like the rainbow after a thunderstorm. Morning duties went by smoothly, followed by breakfast, chores, lessons, and a quick lunch. By the afternoon she was tying bundles of roots in the kitchen while Aunt Della sat in the front room writing a letter at her desk. The house groaned around them as cool air settled into its bones. The phonograph was playing low in the background when they heard a knock on the front door followed by two impatient honks of a car horn.
âIâll get it,â Annie called from the kitchen.Â
She wiped her hands and walked towards the front.
âHey Pea,â Annie said when she opened the door.
Pearline frowned as she laid eyes on Annie.Â
âAnnie girl, why you ainât dressed?â
Annie looked at Pearline. Then she looked at the car idling on the street. Then back to her, confused.Â
âDressed for what?â
âYour fittinâ today!â
âOh my Lord!â
Aunt Della shook her head as Pearline stepped in, watching Annie trip halfway up the stairs.
âHow you doinâ, Mrs. Clark?â
âDoinâ fine,â Aunt Della responded. âHow you?â
âDoinâ mighty fine myself.â
âGlad to hear it.â
Aunt Della put her pen down and looked at Pearline as she stepped further into the front room. She pulled a small drawstring pouch from the pocket of her dress and placed it on her writing desk.Â
Pearline took it and quickly stuffed it in her purse. âThank you,â she said quietly.
âYou welcome.â
Aunt Della's eyes flicked down to Pearlineâs stomach before she turned back to her pen and paper.Â
Twenty minutes later, Pearline and Annie were on their way to Issaquena Street. The ride was quiet, with Pearline staring out the passenger window while her husband drove. Annie sat in the backseat, lips rolled and hands in her lap.Â
âIâm so sorry, Mr. George,â Annie said to Pearlineâs husband. âIt completely slipped my mind.â
Mr. George grunted as the car came to a slow stop in front of the shop. âThatâs alright.â
The girls climbed out of the Model T Ford.Â
âPearline?â He called after his wife.
She looked back as she stepped on the curb. âYes?â
âSix oâclock.â
âAlright.â
The sign for the shop hung overhead as Pearline and Annie inched their way toward the door. As they walked down the steps and down the short, covered walkway to the modiste, Annieâs thoughts drifted to the excitement waiting for them next week.
The Harvest Party.
LUELLAâS DRESSING ROOM & ALTERATIONS
âSmoke gonâ forget his own name when he see you,â Pearline teased Annie.Â
Luella smirked, adjusting a corset frame where it was pinned to one of the Dressmakersâ mannequins.Â
Annie blushed where she stood barefoot on the platform in front of the three-way mirror, knee-length robe wrapped around her thick frame, long hair braided into a coily crown.Â
Sunlight came through the curtains in golden slits, turning the dust motes suspended by the window into glitter. The click of heels and the low hum of sewing machines faded away behind the damask velvet drapes that separated the private alcove from the showroom. It felt cozy back hereâ like warmth, perfume, and whispers. Gloves, hair combs, purses, and other finishing touches were lined up on a table on the side where the crystal jars filled with candies added to the plush decor.Â
Pearline sat on a velvet ottoman, one leg crossed politely over the other. Her gloved hands came together in her lap, her fingers mindlessly playing with the lace trim at her wrist.
âI canât wait to see it,â she said. She smiled at Annie through the mirrorâbut it was bittersweet. Pensive.Â
Annieâs brows knit together. âWhatâs wrong?â she mouthed.Â
Pearline just shook her head and looked down. Annie tilted her head at her friend.
Just then, Luellaâs assistant walked around the corner with a garment bag. She handled it carefully, hanging it on the clothing rack before rolling it from behind the seating area to rest at the side of the viewing platform. âYou ready?âÂ
Annie turned, her face lighting up, but she still watched Pearline carefully out of the corner of her eye. She had a melancholic aura to her even though she tried to cover it with excitement for her friend. Her spine was snapped straight, her legs politely crossedâ but something hung in the air between them.
Annie nodded, signaling she was ready. Luella stepped to the clothing rack and unzipped the garment bag as her and assistant removed it from its cover. She gasped when the rich, deep green velvet bodice caught the dim light of the alcove, then hopped off the platform, padding over to the rack.
âWow,â Pearline stood up in awe. âItâs beautiful, Annie,â she whispered. She ran her gloved fingers down the sides of it, skimming over the delicate beadwork and fringe.Â
It was a one-of-a-kind piece, made to stand out and be seen through the low lights and smoke in the juke.Â
Luella and her assistant went over accessory ideas with Annieâ purses, coats, shoes. Even some hair ideas. They talked to her about pressing her hair and wearing it pinned back into a chignon with a side part. Her excitement grew by the minute until she looked to the side and saw Pearline. The teasing from earlier was gone. Now she was quiet.
Polite.
But barely there.
They finally got to the jewelry options. Lightweight earrings, delicate necklaces, beaded bracelets. Luella held up a thin silver chain for Annie to look at, but Annie almost winced at the idea of wearing anything but her ilekes. She ran her finger over them.
âYou canât wear that necklace with,â she pointed to it, then to the dress on the rack, âthat dress!â Luellaâs assistant exclaimed.
âBut, I always wear my beads,â Annie rubbed one, taking a small step back from the accessory table.Â
âEvery single day?â Pearline asked.
âNo,â she shook her head. âNot every day.â
Pearline shrugged. âSo you can go one night without âem,â she trailed off as a hand reached over to touch them.Â
She stopped herself when she saw Annieâs eyes grow wide.
âI canât touch âem?â
Annie shook her head no.
Pearline crossed her arms, putting her weight on one hip. âWhy not?âÂ
âCuz they blessed.âÂ
Pearline scrunched her nose up. âWhat you mean, blessed?â
Annie looked towards the window, then back. âI donât really know. But my great-grandma told me I canât let anyone touch âem, or she gotta bless âem again. And she dead, so...â
âAnnie,â Pearline pleaded quietly. Her face relaxed like she recognized this wasnât a conversation to have here. Not while they were surrounded by pearls and sequins, lace, leather and perfume. âIâm so sorry.â
âItâs okay.â
Luella and her assistant sorted necklaces while they continued their conversation in hushed tones.Â
âShe gave âem to me when I was seven.âÂ
Pearlineâs eyes softened.
âTold me never to take âem off.â
âHave you?â
âNo,â Annie sighed. âOnly on certain days.âÂ
She exhaled again, her lips curving up into a sly grin. âBut I guess I can go without âemâŠfor just the night.â
Pearline smiled.Â
Luellaâs assistant came over and squealed with glee while Luella picked up a long silver necklace with a small diamond pendant that hung like a teardrop in the center.
Luellaâs assistant pointed at it. âAnnie, what you think âbout this one?â
Annieâs eyes lit up, intrigued. âI like it.â Her hands fingered the delicate chain. âA lot.â
She turned to reach over and rub Pearlineâs shoulder as Luella and her assistant continued to talk her ear off about her jewelry options.Â
âWanna get a soda after this?â she asked.
âIâd love to.â Pearline couldnât agree fast enough.
The walk back over to Fourth Street was brisk. Annie and Pearline walked the streets, arms folded across their chests, wool overcoats wrapped tightly around them.Â
The sidewalks were even busier today. Despite the unusual cold front that blew into the Delta, most sharecroppers were stuck in limbo waiting on their settlements to come back from the plantation owners. Which means theyâd make their way to town looking for some way to entertain themselves.
Besides the cafes and jukes, Fourth Street Drugs was a popular spot. It held a soda fountain on the right side of the store with ice cream, soda, and other fizzy drinks.
Step through the narrow wooden door that separated it from the drugstore and it felt like you were stepping into a different world.Â
The space was a haven for young folksâswirling on lacquered stools, sipping sodas, floats, and malts. A polished oval countertop ran along the mirrored wall, a bar-like soda fountain directly in front of it. Ice cream, fruit, and syrups stood in a line up for the soda jerk to easily mix flavors. Light snacks sat in glass displays at each end of the countertop.Â
The bell above the shop dinged twice as Annie and Pearline stepped through.Â
They made themselves comfortable at the bartop, unwrapping scarves and taking off their hats. Annie ordered an ice cream soda from the soda jerk and Pearline decided on a cherry phosphate over ice.Â
They enjoyed the live musicâ an elderly man in dark blue and black checkered shirt and overalls playing his harmonica and singing. He was tall, dark-skinned, and lanky, but his eyes were warm. His harmonica sat between his hands like a silver smile.
đ” Don't get mad at me, boys, if your buggy don't ride like mine
I said, donât get mad at me if your buggy donât ride like mine
'Cause it's an easy-ridin' buggy, rarin' to go all the time* đ”
Annie didn't recognize the song, nor the man. But she recognized the sound of that harmonica. The way he bent his notes felt familiar to her, like it was the soundtrack to something special.
The memory hit like a freight train.
Her and Smoke in the backyard after supper.
She barely heard, let alone remembered, anything from that night. Not besides the sound of Smokeâs voice. But she remembered that harmonica playing while they kissed slow under the moonlight.
She instantly got chills.
âThatâs my time for today, my name is Delta Slim and I thank ya for listeninâ.â
The whole room exploded with applause as Delta Slim slipped from the stage to the backroom.Â
Annie watched him disappear down the hallway, then turned to Pearline.
She could tell she was only halfway present.
She tried to be cheerful while sipping her drink, but every time the shop bell rang her eyes would drift towards the entrance. Annie watched her out of the corner of her eye, wiping the corner of her mouth when a drop of ice cream landed on her chin.Â
âI canât go to the party,â Pearline admitted.Â
âWhy not?â
Pearline sighed. âMy husband.âÂ
Annieâs lips pressed into a straight line.Â
Pearlineâs husband was an older man. Good bank job. Well-maintained house in a decent part of town. He was respected in the Black community of Coahoma County.Â
He was protective over Pearline when it mattered.Â
She found it sweet at first. Endearing.Â
But that protection started to feel like a suffocating control.
And Pearline was starting to feel like a fish out of water.Â
Annie shook her head. âIâm sorry,â she said softly.Â
Pearline looked down, swirled her drink, and took another sip.Â
âHe's a good man, Annie,â she said, staring into her cup like that would make it true.
Annie felt skeptical but she was unwilling to push her friend into feeling uncomfortable.
âYou happy?â
Pearline took a full minute to answer.Â
âYeah.âÂ
âWell,â Annie grabbed Pearlineâs forearm, stroking her skin. âThatâs what matters then...that you happy.â
Pearline gave her a weak smile.
A Few Nights Later â Moon Lake, Mississippi
Smoke and Stack stepped foot into the building, overhead lights so bright they had to blink so their eyes could adjust. It was something Smoke never got used toâthe lights. Heâd seen the Mississippi sun become a furnace in the skyâ but this new, artificial shit? It was stronger. Blinding.
He didnât like any of it.Â
Stack was prepared. He always was when it came to his twin.
He handed Smoke a pair of American Optical aviators that they were fitted for during the war. They had smoked out dark lenses, a thin metal frame, and a double bridge that sat comfortably across his nose.
The twins walked through the casino like men on a mission. Smoke kept his hands in his pockets, but he still met eyes. A bootlegger on a craps table. Another man in a fancy pressed suit, elbows deep in a blackjack game to the right.Â
They made their way to the side of the room, shoulders squared, eyes sharp, steps measured, cutting through a maze of fumes, lights, and laughter, until they were standing in front of the walkway that led to the private gaming salons.Â
A narrow, low-lit corridor loomed in front of them. Dark green doors stretched down the hallway lined up like little soldiers. The walls were covered with patterned maroon wallpaper that looked like old blood dripping slowly from the panels. Smoke hovered overhead, suspended at the ceiling like a thick, tobacco-filled cloud. Floorboards groaned underneath heels and two-tone spectator shoes while furniture legs groaned under men all looking to play the long game with duffel bags full of cash.
Door 14. The Roulette Room.
Laughter slipped out the open door.Â
The room was cozy but not small, decorated to feel expensive with its soft lamplight, burgundy wallpaper, velvet drapes and deep mahogany woodwork.Â
A large roulette table flanked by carved wooden chairs with upholstered seats sat in the middle, the dealer leaning over the table with practiced focus. Framed paintings hung high above tall wooden panels, fireplaces, and wall sconces that divided the space.Â
The room wasnât full but wasnât empty either.Â
And most people present werenât there to play.Â
Not really.
Members of Clarksdaleâs fraternal lodge were scattered around the roomâPythians with their ceremonial hats and others in regular suits. Smoking, fraternizing, throwing drinks back. Women in sequined dresses, strappy shoes, and pressed waves socialized among them.
Clay stood in the middle, leaning against a fireplace with two fingers of something dark in his hand. Maybe whiskey. Maybe brandy. A crystal glass decanter sat by his elbow. He swished his drink around, taking small sips while he listened to a man speak, voice low under the soft clatter of chips and murmured bets.
It was a white man. Rotund build. Dressed in a white single-breasted suit jacket and trousers, white shirt, and striped bowtie. He had a thick unibrow and mustache, and a hearty laugh that echoed off the walls but a smile that didnât reach his eyes. He didnât look flashy; he looked comfortable. Too comfortable.Â
And that was just from a distance.Â
Smokeâs lip curled up instantly.Â
Stack elbowed him in the arm when he saw the raw expression on his brotherâs face.Â
âChill out, nigga.âÂ
Smoke grunted.
When Clay saw the twins across the room, he didnât flinch. He just waved them over, setting his glass down on the mantle.
They split up like they always did when they first entered a space, Smoke rounding left, Stack circling right.Â
It was part of their routine. A twin language developed from survival and war.Â
They didnât discuss it. They didnât need to.Â
They orbited the room. The movement looked casual, but they were quietly filing away every detail. Every glance meant suspicion, calculation, or warning. Nerves that had nothing to do with gambling. Shifty eyes. Hidden weapons.Â
Smoke was the quicker draw of the two, and he always rolled deep. Two pistols. Bolo knife. Always tucked away but easily accessible.
Stack was slower to draw but had a way of disguising danger as charm before anybody realized it was danger. He kept a colt .45 and a brass knuckle knife hidden seamlessly in his clothing.
When they reached Clay, he already had two cigars cut for them.Â
âJimââ he said with a wide grin. âThese the two gentlemen I was tellinâ you âbout earlier.âÂ
âAh, the twins!â this Jim character said.Â
He tapped ash from his own cigar on a lacquered tray and looked between Smoke and Stack who flanked himâone twin on each side.
âYou fellas ever think about cominâ up North?âÂ
Stack answered. âWe been up North.â
âWhere to?â
âHarlem.â
âNew York...What about Illinois? Arkansas?â
Smoke spoke up. âArkansas ainât up north.âÂ
âI know,â Jim replied.
âSo why you askinâ?â he asked flatly.
Jim shrugged. âJust curious.â
âNah.â Smoke turned his head. âWe don't go up North much.â
âBut it depend on who askinâ,â Stack added.Â
Both twins looked at Jim.
Smoke with his head tilted downwards and his hooded eyes that could look up through a man and pierce his soul.Â
Stack stood with his head tilted up so he was always looking down at someone, eyes twinkling, smirk wide, golds flashing.
Jim chuckled once, amused. At least on the surface.Â
The ice in Stackâs cup tapped against the glass as it melted, sitting completely untouched in front of him. Smoke had already smoked his cigar down to the nub and sat with his elbows on his knees.Â
Jim and his posse were long gone by now.Â
Smoke, Stack, Clay and two of Clayâs men sat around a small round table that was polished to a shine that caught the lamplight in amber streaks. They talked routes, distribution, provisions, collections, hidden shipments, payoffs.Â
Stackâs eyes sparkled every time someone mentioned Little Rock or Chicago.Â
Smokeâs eyes held an unimpressed dullness even under the golden pools of lamplight.
Clay noticed, his eyes flicking between the two of them, subtly eyeing the difference in demeanor.Â
âWhat you think?â Stack whispered to Smoke.
Smoke frowned then leaned over. ââBout what?â
âBig Jim.â
âI ainât.â
Stack sucked his teeth loudly which earned a stare from Smoke.
Stack grumbled under his breath.Â
âShut up, niggaâ Smoke gritted.Â
âJust think about it,â Stack pushed. âMe. You. And Little Rock.â
Stack finally picked up his drink and took a swig. âYou can bring Annie, too.â
Smoke just shook his head. Leaving Clarksdale was the last thing he was thinking about.Â
The casino carried on in the background. Jazz, smoke, and the sweet-sharp smell of corn liquor spilled from the large double doors every time a patron stepped out.Â
Smoke stood outside, the orange ember of his cigarette burning bright behind his palm.Â
He didnât come outside for quiet. The casino wasnât quiet. Moon Lake never was.Â
He stood at the dock and took a long drag of tobacco. It burned his chest. The cherry, spice, and the faint trace of lake humidity calmed the dull throb of a headache that sat behind his skull.Â
âPeople done carved out every corner of Chicago. Whole lotta money there. But ArkansasâŠ.âÂ
Big Jimâs words echoed in his head.Â
And Stackâs.Â
He was always hyped about something. A scheme, a trick, a scam.Â
And Smoke would always be caught up right along with him.Â
But this oneâ
âKnow a couple call houses in Little Rock need fixinâ up,â Big Jim said between puffs.Â
A member of his posse, another white man with olive skin, a stocky build and a scar on his left cheek spoke up next.
âBathhouse in Hot Springs. Yâall would do good up there, too.â He took a swig of his whiskey. âReal good.â
Smoke pushed the thoughts away before they could take root in his mind.
His thoughts turned to Annie instead.
To the confession she made.
The thought he filed away for later resurfaced while he looked out at the water. Night blanketed the cypress trees and the shores and the forest beyond it while the twinkling lights of the Moon Lake island helped soften its edges.Â
Annie never shrank herself or made herself smaller for other peopleâs comfort. Thatâs one thing Smoke noticed the most about her. She was like him in that way.Â
But something was different about the look on her face when she said those three words.
I ainât neverâŠ
She looked vulnerable. Timid almost.Â
His chest tightened at the thought.Â
Something flickered in her eyes that night, just for a second before it disappeared.Â
It wasnât from the moonlight, from the candle on the windowsill, or from the oil lamp that hung above them on the shed.
It was deeper than that.
It was fear.
Fear of how heâd take it. Fear it would change his mind about her.Â
He could see it in how she rushed to cling onto something. The loose thread on his shirt, something in the backyard.Â
She showed him a part of herself. A part nobody else got to see.Â
She gave that to him.Â
And for just a second, she was scared of what heâd do with it.
Smokeâs jaw clenched.
He never wanted her to feel like that. He never wanted to be the reason she felt like that. Not again.Â
Because that softness, the most tender part of her that she revealed to him in a whisper, barely a breathâthat was his to protect now.Â
Reeds danced with the current as it drifted downriver. The blades flitted across each other in the breeze, the low, whispery rustle felt gentle and soothing compared to the harsh sounds of the casino.
It felt like Annie.
Her scent arrived like a memory carried over water.
The lake carried the smell of some womanâs perfume. Smoke wouldnât have noticed it, but the smell of lavender carried something sharper underneath that made his head snap around.Â
Night-blooming jasmine.Â
That sun-drenched, heady lushness that lingered on Annieâs wrists, behind her ears, and on her necklaces.Â
That combined with the smell of something brackish made him feel like she was standing in front of him, those soft arms wrapped around his neck while his head tucked into her chest smelling like a midnight garden.
It cut through the harshness of the casino. The haze, the booze, the sweat.Â
Moon Lake smelled like vice and pressure.
Annie was the opposite of all of that.Â
While moonlight turned lake waters into glass, Smoke closed his eyes and made a decision.
Then another one.
He showed up at Dellaâs a few days later when the house had lulled into its afternoon pace.
âGot somewhere I wanna take you.âÂ
Those were the only words Smoke muttered before he whisked Annie out of the boarding house and into his truck. He wouldnât tell Annie where they were going. All she knew was that they were heading north, the sun just starting its slow descent to the left of the road.Â
The fields were empty this time of the year, of both people and cotton. The bare stalks stood tall and rigid like silent witnesses.
âI got a letter from my folks back home,â Annie said, looking out the window.
Smoke kept his eyes forward. âWhat they say?â
âEverybody doinâ good.â
âGood.â
Annie went on, talking Smoke up about her nieces and nephews, cousins, aunts and uncles. By the time she stopped to catch her breath, she was beaming with pride. Smoke listened to her talk with a lopsided grin of admiration. Then she started talking about her immediate family. Her mama. Her daddy. Her brothers. Her words got slower. Her breath hitched a few times like she was choosing her words carefully.Â
Smoke noticed and started probing.
âYour mama a midwife, right? And your daddyâhe work at the docks?â
âHe a fisherman. You remembered.â She grinned and relaxed a little bit.
âHow your brothers be?â
Annie tensed. âThey good,â she said quickly.
âHmm. And what they do?â
She rattled off five different occupations, but he knew she had six brothers. She told him.Â
Annie was her parentâs seventh child.
He waited for her to fill in the blanks, but she didnât. She just stared out the window like she was holding her breath.
âWhat was his name?â he asked.
Annie looked down at her hands. They were fidgeting again, playing with the hem of her clothing. She had on a tan-colored shirtwaist dress that complimented the rich brown color of her skin. It sat underneath a grey overcoat made from a light material.Â
Mississippi weather was mild that day, a nice break from the cold front they experienced the past few weeks.Â
Stockings and oxfords completed her look, and a cloche hat with a cream-colored ribbon was pinned onto her low bun.
The cab of the truck was silent for a while as the wheels rolled over loose gravel. But after a few more moments, Annie finally let out the breath sheâd been holding.
âUriah,â she said quietly. âHis name wasâisâUriah.â
Smokeâs grip on the steering wheel tightened. âWhat happened to âem?â
âThe war.â
âIâm sorry.â
Annie looked towards the road again. âAinât your fault.â
âStill.â He looked over at her briefly. âYâall were close?â
âThe closest.â
Smokeâs hand grabbed hers in her lap. She took a moment to rub the skin of his hands, his calloused palms warm around hers.
The road in front of them narrowed slightly. They crossed a bridge, the packed dirt turning into dusty brickwork as they traversed the water.Â
The sun was beginning to wane, writing its farewell letter in shades of orange and purple as it disappeared behind the trees.Â
On the other side of the bridge sat Moon Lake Island.Â
A twenty-four-hour haven of whimsy, seduction, and leisure. Hanging lights glittered like fireflies, their bulbs blinking rapidly like they were dying out. That was on purpose.
It was just a bridge away from Lula, but it felt miles awayâa sharp contrast to the cotton fields and the back of plantation houses that sat just across a small stretch of water.Â
A supper club and casino stood like landmarks on the north island. The Blue Room was a pleasure palace that fronted as a place to enjoy oysters and prime cuts of steak at all hours of the night, and the Moon Lake Casino was its younger, slick-talking brother.Â
The Black Elk Lodge was a hotel that stretched across the entire span of the southern island, wide and proud like the hand of a giant. Small lake front cabins scattered along the shore surrounding the courtyard hotel, a place where the whole world could go quiet.
Smoke cut the engine. He kept a hand on the small of her back, the other hand holding onto a covered basket as he guided Annie to the small private dock where heâd rented a rowboat from the lodge. He tugged the fraying rope that moored it to the shore, pulling it up so it sat halfway on the bank.
The inside was a tight fit, but dry. It was deep, lined with fragments of mismatched, aged wood where he set the basket of food in the middle of the two benches. Smoke helped Annie inside, unleashing the boat while he took the oars in his hand.Â
His muscles moved beneath rolled sleeves while he rowed them away from the shore. He grunted under his breath as he stroked, moving his arms back and forth until their boat was dislodged from the thick mud on the shore. It glided smoothly into the water.
Annieâs thoughts were a tangled web. She smoothed her skirt down and crossed her legs, staring at the lake surrounding them to avert her eyes from the way his muscles clung to his shirt. A cool gust of wind swept over their boat drying the small bead of sweat that had started to form at her temple.
The lakefront cabins of The Black Elk Lodge lined the shore behind them. Small, wooden cabins with hanging lanterns, flower boxes on the porch, and warm orange light in the windows.Â
Sounds from the island started to fade as they rowed into a thinner stretch of the lake. Ancient trees stood tall like ancestors along the shore. Spanish moss hung overhead like lace curtains, turning the sun into little slivers of bronze light that spotted the forest floor.
âPretty out here,â Annie remarked quietly.
She trailed her fingers along the water. It rippled and separated under her touch into gentle waves that sloshed along the side of the boat.
âYeah it is,â Smoke agreed.Â
But he wasnât talking about the lake. He was talking about her.
He couldnât stop looking at her.Â
The colors of dusk shimmered on the water catching the contours of Annieâs skin that looked lit from within. Her cheekbones, full lips, button nose, doe eyes. She unpinned her hat and released her bun once they got further from the shore. Her hairâdark, thick and coiled down her backâcaught the light in deep blue streaks that shimmered against the jewel-toned sky. She looked ethereal. Sunset made her beads glow against her skin; the multi-colored necklaces sat tucked gracefully under the neckline of her dress.
âYou gonâ burn a hole in me, Elijah,â Annie said, eyes trained on the rippling water around their boat.
Smoke smirked.
âJust thinkinâ about how pretty you look right now.â
Annie huffed a laugh. âJust right now?â
âNah,â Smoke chuckled. âYou always beautifulâŠbut you glowinâ different right now.âÂ
âWhy, thank you.â
Just then, the sun cut sharply, burning into her eyes. Her entire iris flooded with a deep bronze color just long enough for it to make Smoke blink twice.Â
âWhat?âÂ
Smoke shook his head. âNothinâ.â But something about the evening sky and the water bleeding into each other had him feeling like he was seeing something that wasnât really there.
âYou hungry?â he asked.
Their picnic basket was lined with sheer fabric and made of handwoven old reed with a handle covered in spiral carvings. It carried a couple baloney sandwiches with mustard, mason jars with sweet tea, and a brown paper bag filled with boiled peanuts rolled in honey and brown sugar.Â
ââCould use somethinâ sweet.â
Smoke uncovered the basket. Annie removed the paper bag from it and inhaled its sugary scent. She reached in and popped a peanut in her mouth. âWant one?â
Smoke looked at her like she should already know that answer.
Annie smiled. âYou knowâI never thought someone like you would be a sweet tooth.â
âWhy not?â
ââCause you walk around like you eat straight salt for dinner.â
She put a peanut in her hand, holding it up to his lips as he held onto the oars. It went in easily, his lips leaving moist heat on her fingertips that went through her body in waves.Â
Smoke hummed at the salty, sweet taste. âMmmm.â The echo of his voice vibrated deep in her body. âThatâs good.â
âYou like it?â Annie teased with a sultry voice.
Smoke raised a brow as he set the oars in the boat. âDonât do that.â
âDo what?â
Smoke looked down at the peanut she had ready in her palm and leaned towards her anyways. He parted his mouth just enough. His lips touched her fingers again this time, his tongue licking through the opening of her fingertips as he took the candied peanut in his mouth. He licked his lips when he pulled back, eyes on her.
âTrouble.âÂ
âMe?â she snickered. She clutched her chest, taunting. âYou the one tryna swallow my fingers.â
The air outside felt thicker over the water. The sky grew darker now, the brightness of the day dimming to something that looked like the glow of a low-burning oil lamp spread across the sky. Annie tossed the bag of peanuts back in the basket and screwed the cap off her mason jar of tea, taking a nervous sip.
âYou come out here often?â she asked.
Smoke shrugged. âFrom time to time.â
âFor what?â
Her eyes drifted to a pair of wood storks nested together along the bank. It was lined in reeds, soft mud, and the thick, tangled network of cypress roots that reached like fingers into the water. Annie thought it looked like the kind of place old spirits preferred. Somewhere quiet enough to listen and deep enough to hold secrets. Smoke favored that part tooâthe quiet, the shade, the way the trees swallowed noise and gave a man room to think.
âTo quiet what wonât settle anywhere else.â
Annie turned to look at Smoke. This wasn't just a date.
âThank you for showin' me this place,â she said. âYour place.â
She leaned in and he met her halfway.
The front room was dim.Â
Not because he was trying to set the mood, but because he only had the patience to light two candles. The soft light brushed the walls, the flames coaxing shadows into a slow dance. Outside, the night breathed in low drones. An owl hooted somewhereâa deep, resonant sound that echoed through the trees. The wind fluttered through fallen leaves and whispered secrets through branches. But inside, the living room of Smoke and Stack's home held a calm, comfortable level of domesticity despite the hum of outdoors.
Smoke and Annie sat next to each other on the couch in Smokeâs house. Annie played a crossword puzzle from the Chicago Whip, stretched sideways across the couch with her feet in Smokeâs lap. Smoke had his hands on her feet as they went back and forth about the answers.Â
âWhatâs a three-letter word for a four-legged animal with spots?â
âA cow,â Smoke said easily.
âNo, that donât fit my crossword.â
âWhat? Lemme see thatâŠâ
Smoke reached for the newspaper, but Annie moved it away from his grasp.
âIt's a dog.â
âIt could be a cat, tooâŠsince we just sayinâ shit.â
Annie swatted him with the newspaper.
âWhat was that for?â
âFor bein' a smart ass.â
Annie set the newspaper down.
âGivin' up already?â
She shot him a look that could have cut through glass. âIâm tired.â She propped her head up with her hand.
Smoke started to push off the couch. âYou ready to go back?â
âNo,â her hand shot out, ânot yet,â she said softer.
Smoke sat back.
Annie tugged on his arm, and he followed her pull as she brought him towards her. Slowly.
Not because he was scared.
He hadnât been scared since he was a child.
But because he cared.
He laid down behind her, his front pressing against her back, and automatically wrapped an arm around her waist. His hold on her was tight, possessive.Â
And Annie loved it.
She stroked his hand with her fingertips. It sat just above her bellybutton with a firm grip.
She melted into him.
He kissed the back of her shoulders first.
Light, delicate pecks that left warmth on her skin.
His lips moved to her neck and the kisses lingered longer, his arm tightening around her waist. He heard her gasps, her short panting breaths, and decided to keep going.
And Annie could feel everything.Â
His kisses became closer together.Â
Somehow, her hand lifted to the back of his head pulling him closer to her.Â
She finally let out a word that wrecked him.
âElijah,â she gasped.
Smoke chuckled, the sound forced a breath onto the delicate spot just behind her ear, and he heard something from her he never heard before.
A sharp, sudden intake of breath.
It was nothing like the noise she let out when he kissed her the other day. This one was quick, unexpected, new. It made her eyes widen.
It made her roll her hips once. The friction was there for a second and gone just as fast, but it pulled a low groan from him.
She laced their hands together and turned, just slightly. The movement pulled her under him.
Their faces met first.
They looked into each otherâs eyes and rubbed noses.Â
âDamn,â Smoke whispered. âYou so beautiful.â
He leaned forward and their lips met gently. The kiss quickly turned passionate, their hunger urgent and palpable. Annieâs back pressed into Smokeâs front, and she could feel him behind her, hard and growing and right there.
Between the breaths and the pants and the tongues and the lips, he pulled back from her a second. Smoke looked down at her kiss-bruised lips and her blown pupils, and the want written all over her face.
They were so wrapped up in each other that he almost missed the sound of a car turning onto the dirt path that led to their home.
Almost.
But the soldier in him never knew a full night's rest.
Smokeâs head turned towards the door out of instinct. He listened carefully, then heard it clearly.
The rumble of an engine.Â
Wheels erratically crunching over dirt.
Stack.
Smoke looked at Annie who had stilled under him, trying to figure out why he stopped.
âHe's back.â
Annie paused for a second, then exhaled sharply and swung her legs over the side of the couch. She stood up slowly, smoothing the fabric of her dress along her hips as the adrenaline started to fade and annoyance started to set in. She walked over to the mirror to check her hair which had become a mass of crushed kinks, coils, and curls, and tried to tame it back into place even though she herself was completely undone.
Smoke sat on the couch, just staring at the floor.
He rubbed a hand down his face.
He couldnât help but feel like Stack picked this very moment to come backâon purpose. He checked the Elgin watch on his wrist, 9:30pm. Stack never came in this earlyâ not on the weekend anyway.Â
Doors opened and closed in succession. Car door first. The snap of twigs and the crunch of polished shoes over solid earth next. Then the screen door creaked open and the bolt on the front door unlatched.
Stack walked in the house completely aware of what had just transpired, but he knew better. He was well versed in reading a room.
He noticed the way Smoke was sitting. Noticed how he was staring at the back of Annie who was fixing her hair in the mirror. He saw the pillows on the couch that look just as deflated as his brother.
He looked between them and his smirk spread slow and smug on his face.Â
âWell good eveninâ,â he announced, his voice cutting through their quiet tension.
Annie looked over from the other side of the room. âEveninâ,â she said warmly, putting the last of her pins in her hair.
Smoke didnât respond. He pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed off the couch.Â
âAnnie,â he said to get her attention. She turned around as he stood up to grab his coat and car keys. âLetâs get to gettinâ.â
Stack crossed the room and sat right on the couch. He got comfortable, putting an ankle on his knee before pulling a small notebook from his pocket. âLeavinâ so soon?âÂ
He looked at Smoke, then Annie, then back to Smoke.Â
âItâs gettinâ late,â Smoke grumbled. He grabbed Annieâs hand and held the door wide as she slipped underneath his arm.Â
âBye, Elias!â Annie said as she practically skipped to Smokeâs truck with Smokeâs gaze following right behind her.Â
âBye, Annie!â Stack yelled after her. âBye, Elijah,â he said to Smoke in a slower, more teasing manner.Â
Smoke rolled his eyes and grunted as he walked down the steps to his truck. He opened the door for Annie who hustled into the passenger seat. Smoke shut her door carefully then rounded the front to the driverâs side. Once he got in, he let the quiet sit for a second before adjusting himself in his seat.
Annie pretended she didnât see it, but her face, half shadowed in darkness and the light from the front room of the cottage, betrayed her. She looked out the window smiling as the engine started with a rattle and sputter of the exhaust pipe.Â
The drive back to Aunt Dellaâs boarding house was quiet. Moonlight flooded the cab of the truck, highlighting the contours of Smoke's faceâhis eyelashes, his lips, his mustache all bathed in a pale, lunar glow. His hand rested on her thigh, holding firmly onto the supple flesh. Annie traced along the veins of his hand with her fingertips before laying her palm on top of his.
âI had a good time tonight,â she said after about a mile of silence.
âYou did?âÂ
âYeah, I did.â
âGood,â he said quietly.Â
The stars sprinkled tiny silver blessings above them as they made their way to the boarding house, the occasional animal darting in the road, drawn like a moth to a flame to his headlights. Smoke and Annie laced their fingers together as the road to town stretched in front of them.Â
-
-
*Song by Bud Spires
Note: Sorry this took so long to post. I was lowkey scared. đ But on another noteâ The Harvest Party is coming up next!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
summary: all his life, smoke had heard that two is company but three is a crowd; and never had it made as much sense as it did now.
cw: smut, toxic smoke x annie, possesive!smoke, obsessed!smoke, car!sex, cheating, extra messyy, this is real stack coded fr (smoke on some bullshit), they arguing, use of the nword
a/n: yâall always have me making a one shot into a mini series smfhhh. thereâs at least one more part, and youâll see why after readingggg⊠requested here and inspired by @librababe7
part one
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that rather unfortunate event, Smokeâs girl decided it would be best if they didnât try that again. The pair had attempted to make it up to her, and while she was elated to have Smoke and Annie making her body scream while her feet touched the headboard, it wasnât enough for the lingering thoughts and memories and doubts to subside.
Smoke sat up in bed.
It was late as hell, and his girl was sleeping peacefully beside him, but his mind couldnât rest. He was stuck thinking about Annie and wondering what she was doingâif she was up thinking about him, too. Since his girl had put an end to things, he hadnât had much of a chance to see Annie. Sheâd come over to hang out or pick his girl up for a trip to the mall, but he kept his distance as best he could. Annie was addictive; Annie was everything he thought of now, and he knew it wasnât right. His girl didnât deserve to be treated that way, but when his mind would drift back to Annie, he couldnât care any less about her feelings.
Huffing silently into the still night air, the manâs back hit the headboard before he reached to retrieve his phone from the nightstand. Beside him, his girl was curled up in the sheets, and when she sensed his movements, she groaned, touching his leg in a need for closeness. It always amused him how much she wanted him even in sleep, but he was on a mission, so stilling his body, he went to work.
His phone illuminated the ceiling. It shined over his faceâstoic as alwaysâand it took him no time at all to find Annieâs contact. She had put it in his phone that day when his girl had gone to the bathroom. In the time that sheâd been away from them, Annie had added her number, texted herself, deleted the message, and made him a promise to figure this out while kissing the edge of his mouth. All he could do in that moment was listen, nod his head, and kiss her full and on the lips.
But neither of them had reached out.
Neither of them had the courage.
Smoke swore he was waiting for the right time, and Annie was waiting for him to make the first move. Anxiety causing his fingers to tremble, Smoke was beginning to think heâd get no better time than the present.
You up?
The first text was simple. He was a man of few words, a man who didnât beat around the bush too often. His stomach thumped in anticipation and regret, but when three dots rose in the bottom left corner, his nostrils flared.
i am
thought youâd never text me
You got my number, too. You coulda made the first move
you donât know who you talkin to, do you? i donât make the first move. i donât chase no man or woman. they chase me
So you consider this me chasin you?
it is one in the morning, smokey. what else you doin if you ainât tryna get into some mess?
His jaw clenched at the nickname, at how easily she had read him, but all it really did was stoke the flames and make him want her more. He looked down at the woman clinging to his legs. His eyes immediately focused on the phone once again.
She sleep beside me. So I canât do much.
He felt raw with need as he texted her, wide open for her to see all of him, but he didnât mind it. His mind flashed back to that day when they had gotten so inwrapped in each other that all they could do was keep going. There was a closeness between them that he couldnât make sense of; All he knew was that he needed her again.
Smoke watched the curser blink as the delivered message stared back at him. He quickly moved to type once more.
I been thinkin bout the other day.
me too, baby
i been needin you so bad
itâs too hard to ignore
Shit. I been thinkin bout just givin in
i think you should. weâve fucked already anyway, so just let it happen
Fuck. We doin this fr?
if you want to, smokey. come over to my place tomorrow
Bet.
And without much effort or tooth pulling, Smoke gave in and let go. He went to Annieâs home the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. He was with Annie whenever he could get a chance, coming and going as he pleased, and she welcomed him with open arms and a heart free of guilt.
It had made her feel like shit at first, but how could you blame her? Smoke knew how to take care of every single one of her needs, and her friend should have been focused on keeping that good dick on lock. It wasn't her fault that the threesome had awakened something in her, a side that needed Smoke just as much as he needed her. And with time, they just grew more attached to each other, completely uncaring for how this would impact themselves and others.
~~~~~
Bent over the center console with her heels rooted into the floor of the backseat, Annie muffled her moans as Smoke stroked her deeply. They were in his truck, parked in the middle of an abandoned lot, and although they were trying to be inconspicuous, the way he was thrusting into her had the truck rocking back and forth.
"Take this shit, baby," Smoke growled, smacking the side of her ass. It had become a force of habit now because he couldn't just watch that ass bounce on him and not touch her. She was addicting, and the more time they spent together, the easier it was to have her body screaming.
Unsuccessful in her attempts to shush herself, Annie cried his name, begged him to let her cum. As much as she needed the relief, they both had places to be that didn't involve each other. And the longer they went at it like this, the more their schedules were getting pushed back and the closer they were to this situation being ruined.
Behind her, sweat beaded on Smokeâs forehead. If you asked him, the man would swear that he and Annie were molded for each otherâperfectly created for this moment. He knew where he had to be, knew that Annie had plans too, but he was losing himself in this, in her.
His strokes shifted out of rhythm as he began to feel his body tighten in every muscle. Anticipation grew, and his eyes clouded over.
Barking out a command for her give it to him, Smoke continued to fuck Annie through her orgasm. When her moans turned to whines, his chest expanded at the glorious sound; And with little effort, he let go into the condom, sinking back into the car seat for reprieve.
"You know she settin' up a double date, right," Annie huffed. She fixed her skirt, pulling it back down to an appropriate length and unsuccessfully smoothing out the wrinkles.
The man beside her was fully relaxed into the seat, mind blank. His eyes were closed, head tilted toward the ceiling as the after effects of his orgasm soothed his exhausted body; But as he registered her words, dread filtered through him.
"A double date with who," Smoke questioned wearily. His voice had a groggy note to it, but his fear and irritation shined through.
"You two and me and the nigga I'm seein' right now," she rolled her eyes in annoyance. Without even taking the chance to look, she knew the expression he wore on his face: one of confusion; one of betrayal. They'd never talked about her new man, and quite frankly, she wasn't ready to have this conversation with him, but they both needed to get on one accord if they were going to be able to pull this date night off without acting like people who have fucked each other more than once.
She pretended to be engrossed in her phone, biting at her bottom lip as she felt the anger course through him.
"Well, you must be confused 'cause the only nigga you seein' is me," Smoke boomed. Chest heaving, the man shook his head, finally gaining awareness of his surroundings again. Empty parking lot. In the backseat of his truck. Half naked. With his girlâs friend.
Hastily, he fixed his clothes and set the used condom to the side before turning in the woman's direction. But she refused to look him in the eye, refused to speak.
"Don't piss me off, Annie," he exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You can't claim me, Smoke," the woman reasoned, arms wrapped tightly under her chest. Her eyes finally flashed over his body, and when they settled on his eyes, she could tell just how torn he was. The emotion made her blood boil. "You got her, so I can fuck around with whoever I want."
"So you fuckin' this nigga, too," Smoke thundered, arms flailing as everything felt like it was hitting him at once. He didn't have time to listen to reason. All he knew was that Annie belonged to himâwhether it was fair to feel that way or not.
"I'm not fuckin' nobody but you, so don't even go there for real," she argued, hand in his face as she put emphasis on each word. "You shouldn't be worried 'bout shit when you got a whole bitch at home waitin' for yo' cheatin' ass like a dummy."
Taken aback, Smoke revved his head back, brows pulling together.
"That's yo' damn friend, too, so if you feel any better in this situation than I do, you the dummy," he chastised, pointing a finger right back at her. "I ain't even touched her ass for real since we started doin' this 'cause I'm tryna be faithful to you."
"Oh my God! Do you hear yourself," Annie laughed, completely astonished. "You talkin' 'bout bein' faithful like you ain't doin' wrong to somebody else."
"Whatever," Smoke tsked, rolling his eyes and letting his back meet the seat again. He ainât feel like explaining it to her, but the way he saw it, his relationship was over. It was over when she decided to bring someone new in the equation. It was over when she made him feel like he wasnât enough. Breathing deeply, he cut his eyes at Annie, leveling her with a look. "I just know you better not show up wit' no other nigga," he warned.
"You don't own me, Smoke" she shouted in response, and as she continued to curse him out and call him every name in the book, Annie climbed out of the backseat and slammed the door shut. Smoke watched her with an angered expression, but no matter how upset he was, he still ensured she made it safely to her car parked nearby. Defeated, he watched he skirt out of the abandoned parking lot, leaving him behind.
~~~~~
A week passed without word from Annie. Smoke texted and called and even showed up at her house a couple of times, but she refused to speak with him. In her mind, she was a grown ass woman who could do whatever she wanted because Smoke wasnât her man. But in his mind, Smoke was her nigga and her only nigga.
When his girl told him about the double date, he made sure to respond appropriately. Not overly surprised. Not overly excited or interested. He made sure to seem somewhere in the middle because the way he responded to Annie was not how he needed to show up here. He needed to be as neutral as possible, and while he did the best he could, he could tell that his girl had picked up on something in his response.
Whether it be the uptick of his pulse, the tightening of his jaw, or the tremble of his hands, he knew she saw somethingâand there was no burying the realization that had popped up in her head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
word count: ~2,000
a/n: shit's getting messyyy. what y'all thing gon happen at the double datee?
summary: all his life, smoke had heard that two is company but three is a crowd; and never had it made as much sense as it did now.
cw: smut, toxic smoke x annie, possesive!smoke, obsessed!smoke, car!sex, cheating, extra messyy, this is real stack coded fr (smoke on some bullshit), they arguing, use of the nword
a/n: yâall always have me making a one shot into a mini series smfhhh. thereâs at least one more part, and youâll see why after readingggg⊠requested here and inspired by @librababe7
part one
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that rather unfortunate event, Smokeâs girl decided it would be best if they didnât try that again. The pair had attempted to make it up to her, and while she was elated to have Smoke and Annie making her body scream while her feet touched the headboard, it wasnât enough for the lingering thoughts and memories and doubts to subside.
Smoke sat up in bed.
It was late as hell, and his girl was sleeping peacefully beside him, but his mind couldnât rest. He was stuck thinking about Annie and wondering what she was doingâif she was up thinking about him, too. Since his girl had put an end to things, he hadnât had much of a chance to see Annie. Sheâd come over to hang out or pick his girl up for a trip to the mall, but he kept his distance as best he could. Annie was addictive; Annie was everything he thought of now, and he knew it wasnât right. His girl didnât deserve to be treated that way, but when his mind would drift back to Annie, he couldnât care any less about her feelings.
Huffing silently into the still night air, the manâs back hit the headboard before he reached to retrieve his phone from the nightstand. Beside him, his girl was curled up in the sheets, and when she sensed his movements, she groaned, touching his leg in a need for closeness. It always amused him how much she wanted him even in sleep, but he was on a mission, so stilling his body, he went to work.
His phone illuminated the ceiling. It shined over his faceâstoic as alwaysâand it took him no time at all to find Annieâs contact. She had put it in his phone that day when his girl had gone to the bathroom. In the time that sheâd been away from them, Annie had added her number, texted herself, deleted the message, and made him a promise to figure this out while kissing the edge of his mouth. All he could do in that moment was listen, nod his head, and kiss her full and on the lips.
But neither of them had reached out.
Neither of them had the courage.
Smoke swore he was waiting for the right time, and Annie was waiting for him to make the first move. Anxiety causing his fingers to tremble, Smoke was beginning to think heâd get no better time than the present.
You up?
The first text was simple. He was a man of few words, a man who didnât beat around the bush too often. His stomach thumped in anticipation and regret, but when three dots rose in the bottom left corner, his nostrils flared.
i am
thought youâd never text me
You got my number, too. You coulda made the first move
you donât know who you talkin to, do you? i donât make the first move. i donât chase no man or woman. they chase me
So you consider this me chasin you?
it is one in the morning, smokey. what else you doin if you ainât tryna get into some mess?
His jaw clenched at the nickname, at how easily she had read him, but all it really did was stoke the flames and make him want her more. He looked down at the woman clinging to his legs. His eyes immediately focused on the phone once again.
She sleep beside me. So I canât do much.
He felt raw with need as he texted her, wide open for her to see all of him, but he didnât mind it. His mind flashed back to that day when they had gotten so inwrapped in each other that all they could do was keep going. There was a closeness between them that he couldnât make sense of; All he knew was that he needed her again.
Smoke watched the curser blink as the delivered message stared back at him. He quickly moved to type once more.
I been thinkin bout the other day.
me too, baby
i been needin you so bad
itâs too hard to ignore
Shit. I been thinkin bout just givin in
i think you should. weâve fucked already anyway, so just let it happen
Fuck. We doin this fr?
if you want to, smokey. come over to my place tomorrow
Bet.
And without much effort or tooth pulling, Smoke gave in and let go. He went to Annieâs home the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. He was with Annie whenever he could get a chance, coming and going as he pleased, and she welcomed him with open arms and a heart free of guilt.
It had made her feel like shit at first, but how could you blame her? Smoke knew how to take care of every single one of her needs, and her friend should have been focused on keeping that good dick on lock. It wasn't her fault that the threesome had awakened something in her, a side that needed Smoke just as much as he needed her. And with time, they just grew more attached to each other, completely uncaring for how this would impact themselves and others.
~~~~~
Bent over the center console with her heels rooted into the floor of the backseat, Annie muffled her moans as Smoke stroked her deeply. They were in his truck, parked in the middle of an abandoned lot, and although they were trying to be inconspicuous, the way he was thrusting into her had the truck rocking back and forth.
"Take this shit, baby," Smoke growled, smacking the side of her ass. It had become a force of habit now because he couldn't just watch that ass bounce on him and not touch her. She was addicting, and the more time they spent together, the easier it was to have her body screaming.
Unsuccessful in her attempts to shush herself, Annie cried his name, begged him to let her cum. As much as she needed the relief, they both had places to be that didn't involve each other. And the longer they went at it like this, the more their schedules were getting pushed back and the closer they were to this situation being ruined.
Behind her, sweat beaded on Smokeâs forehead. If you asked him, the man would swear that he and Annie were molded for each otherâperfectly created for this moment. He knew where he had to be, knew that Annie had plans too, but he was losing himself in this, in her.
His strokes shifted out of rhythm as he began to feel his body tighten in every muscle. Anticipation grew, and his eyes clouded over.
Barking out a command for her give it to him, Smoke continued to fuck Annie through her orgasm. When her moans turned to whines, his chest expanded at the glorious sound; And with little effort, he let go into the condom, sinking back into the car seat for reprieve.
"You know she settin' up a double date, right," Annie huffed. She fixed her skirt, pulling it back down to an appropriate length and unsuccessfully smoothing out the wrinkles.
The man beside her was fully relaxed into the seat, mind blank. His eyes were closed, head tilted toward the ceiling as the after effects of his orgasm soothed his exhausted body; But as he registered her words, dread filtered through him.
"A double date with who," Smoke questioned wearily. His voice had a groggy note to it, but his fear and irritation shined through.
"You two and me and the nigga I'm seein' right now," she rolled her eyes in annoyance. Without even taking the chance to look, she knew the expression he wore on his face: one of confusion; one of betrayal. They'd never talked about her new man, and quite frankly, she wasn't ready to have this conversation with him, but they both needed to get on one accord if they were going to be able to pull this date night off without acting like people who have fucked each other more than once.
She pretended to be engrossed in her phone, biting at her bottom lip as she felt the anger course through him.
"Well, you must be confused 'cause the only nigga you seein' is me," Smoke boomed. Chest heaving, the man shook his head, finally gaining awareness of his surroundings again. Empty parking lot. In the backseat of his truck. Half naked. With his girlâs friend.
Hastily, he fixed his clothes and set the used condom to the side before turning in the woman's direction. But she refused to look him in the eye, refused to speak.
"Don't piss me off, Annie," he exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You can't claim me, Smoke," the woman reasoned, arms wrapped tightly under her chest. Her eyes finally flashed over his body, and when they settled on his eyes, she could tell just how torn he was. The emotion made her blood boil. "You got her, so I can fuck around with whoever I want."
"So you fuckin' this nigga, too," Smoke thundered, arms flailing as everything felt like it was hitting him at once. He didn't have time to listen to reason. All he knew was that Annie belonged to himâwhether it was fair to feel that way or not.
"I'm not fuckin' nobody but you, so don't even go there for real," she argued, hand in his face as she put emphasis on each word. "You shouldn't be worried 'bout shit when you got a whole bitch at home waitin' for yo' cheatin' ass like a dummy."
Taken aback, Smoke revved his head back, brows pulling together.
"That's yo' damn friend, too, so if you feel any better in this situation than I do, you the dummy," he chastised, pointing a finger right back at her. "I ain't even touched her ass for real since we started doin' this 'cause I'm tryna be faithful to you."
"Oh my God! Do you hear yourself," Annie laughed, completely astonished. "You talkin' 'bout bein' faithful like you ain't doin' wrong to somebody else."
"Whatever," Smoke tsked, rolling his eyes and letting his back meet the seat again. He ainât feel like explaining it to her, but the way he saw it, his relationship was over. It was over when she decided to bring someone new in the equation. It was over when she made him feel like he wasnât enough. Breathing deeply, he cut his eyes at Annie, leveling her with a look. "I just know you better not show up wit' no other nigga," he warned.
"You don't own me, Smoke" she shouted in response, and as she continued to curse him out and call him every name in the book, Annie climbed out of the backseat and slammed the door shut. Smoke watched her with an angered expression, but no matter how upset he was, he still ensured she made it safely to her car parked nearby. Defeated, he watched he skirt out of the abandoned parking lot, leaving him behind.
~~~~~
A week passed without word from Annie. Smoke texted and called and even showed up at her house a couple of times, but she refused to speak with him. In her mind, she was a grown ass woman who could do whatever she wanted because Smoke wasnât her man. But in his mind, Smoke was her nigga and her only nigga.
When his girl told him about the double date, he made sure to respond appropriately. Not overly surprised. Not overly excited or interested. He made sure to seem somewhere in the middle because the way he responded to Annie was not how he needed to show up here. He needed to be as neutral as possible, and while he did the best he could, he could tell that his girl had picked up on something in his response.
Whether it be the uptick of his pulse, the tightening of his jaw, or the tremble of his hands, he knew she saw somethingâand there was no burying the realization that had popped up in her head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
word count: ~2,000
a/n: shit's getting messyyy. what y'all thing gon happen at the double datee?
lol iâve just seriously gone down a sinners rabbit hole and came across your lovely fics! apparently wunmi calls michael bro/her brother? but he never says it back lmfaooo. i was wondering if you could do a fic about this? cause iâm tickled by this
okay anon idk if this is what you meant, but i managed to do something light while I work on these next few updates.
sidenote, also, anyone can send requests and i'll try my best to see if I can get to them. it might take some time but i'll get there.
Wunmi had always tried to be careful. Especially after that day in his trailer.
She tried not to think about it anymore. But it seemed that moment lived inside of her.
And now there was someone else in the picture.
He was a steady, consistent man who always made time for her. He preferred to show up rather than to supply her with hopes and dreams. He was uncomplicated in the ways Michael had never been.
So when flowers arrived, she immediately knew who they were from.
They were white lilies and deep green stems, graceful and beautiful without being too showy. Which was exactly Michaelâs taste.
The note attached was simple: Congratulations on the nominations. So proud of you.
A smile graced her face before she could stop it. Not thinking much about it, she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture for her Instagram story.
Thank you brother for the flowers! @/michaelbjordan
And just after she posted it, her phone vibrated. She looked at it and her stomach dropped.
Donât ever call me that again.
Suddenly, the distance she had been maintaining felt like a joke she was the only one taking seriously.
Across the room, her boyfriend was talking about dinner plans, scrolling through something on his phone, completely unaware of what was happening right under his nose.
Wunmi kept her face neutral and voice steady.
She didnât reply to Michael because replying meant acknowledging that he still had access to her attention in a way no one else did. And he knew it.
The next morningâs interview was supposed to be simple.
Michael arrived first looking so relaxed with an easy smile. He turned his charm up to the max. The room easily fitting around him.
Wunmi arrived five minutes later and if anyone was truly paying attention they noticed the shift between them.
The interviewer started with simple questions about their characters and on screen chemistry. Nothing that they weren't used to at this point.
Michael answered steadily, and Wunmi followed, just as composed. But every time their answers overlapped, it felt like the real words between them were being held back.
At one point, the interviewer stated, âYou two have such an interesting dynamic off-screen too. You seem very comfortable with each other.â
It shouldâve been harmless, but it felt like the first domino to fall.
Michael looked at Wunmi long enough to not be obvious to everyone else but her.
âI think we just understand each other well,â he said smoothly.
Wunmi gave a small smile. But her fingers tightened in her lap.
âYeah, we do,â she agreed.
Because understanding, in their case, was the danger zone.
And Michael was very aware that the line she kept drawing wasnât disappearing. He just didn't care.
The interview ended and the cameras stopped rolling, but neither of them left the room right away. The crew filtered out until it was just the two of them.
Michael stood near the edge of the set, loosening his cuffs. Wunmi stayed seated for a little longer, face calm and collected, showing no signs of disturbance. Except her eyes wouldnât stop tracking him.
Finally, she stood up.
âYou did that on purpose,â she said.
Michael didnât look surprised. âDid what?â
âThe way you looked at me. Don't pretend like you didn't know what you were doing,â she gestured vaguely, voice tight.
He fully turned toward her.
âI only answered a question.â
âOh please. You tried to control everything with that one response.â
A small, humorless smile flickered at his mouth. âAnd you didnât?â
Wunmi exhaled through her nose, stepping closer without meaning to. But she stopped herself from going further, knowing how things could get if they got too close.
âNo, I didn't. I've always been very clear with you Michael,â she said carefully. "I have a boyfriend. I am not doing whatever this is with you. So I set some simple boundaries.â
âSimple boundaries huh?â Michael tilted his head. "None of this is simple and you know it. You're just avoiding it."
âThatâs not fair.â
âThe truth hurts, don't it?â
Wunmi laughed once, short and sharp. âSo what am I supposed to say to you then?â
Michaelâs gaze held hers without blinking.
âStart with calling me by my name,â he said. "Because I think you're not really ready to deal with what, who, I truly am to you. You try to slap a label on me as if that will change what you feel for meâŠand it won't."
Wunmi shook her head immediately. âDonât psychoanalyze me.â
âYou love me.â
âDonât,â she warned.
Yet Michael didnât stop.
âAnd I love you,â he added.
Wunmiâs voice came out rougher than intended. âThat doesnât mean anything.â
âI was never your 'brother' and you know it,â he said.
âAnd what do you want me to do with that, Michael?â
His jaw tightened, frustration bleeding through the restraint heâd been holding.
âI want you to stop running from me. From us, baby.â
Wunmi looked away just for a second. When she looked back, her voice was quiet, but firm. She was intent on keeping as much control as she could.
âI'm not going to lose control of my life because of feelings,â she said. âNot again.â
âWunmi, baby, I'm not asking you to give up control you already don't have,â he said. "We know what we are, and it's clear, but you just don't like what it is."
Wunmi was laying against her pillow, phone tilted just low enough that the glow didnât fill the whole room. Her boyfriend was beside her, one arm tucked behind his head, scrolling on his own phone.
She was scrolling through Instagram when Michaelâs post popped up. It was a picture of him during the press day. Her fingers moved to type before she fully thought anything out.
Looking good brother đ„đ„
Even with their conversation earlier, her comment was simple and yet said everything. She scrolled on trying not to think too much about it.
Ten minutes passed of aimless scrolling and tapping. Then she got a message.
Keep playing with me and see what happens.
Her eyebrows pulled together immediately.
She turned her head slightly, as she texted back.
What are you talking about?
Within seconds a screenshot in their messages appeared. It was her own comment that she had just made.
We just talked about this.
Wunmi exhaled through her nose. She was more annoyed now than anything else. She shifted slightly under the covers.
Boundaries. Remember?
Yeah okay
That was what Wunmi thought was the end of it.
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then reappeared again.
Her grip tightened on the phone as she could tell he was trying to hold back fromsaying something else, but she didn't know what.
Her boyfriend shifted slightly beside her, âYou okay?â
âYeah, just work stuff,â she said too fast.
Just then another message came through. But it wasn't a text. It was a picture. A picture that made every bone in her body freeze up.
Michael was there, legs spread, shorts pulled down as he held himself. The thickness and how hard he was, was displayed boldly. And she could feel every bit of confidence radiating through the phone. He didn't care who she was around or who her attention was on because he knew she would stop just for him.
Her breath caught as she immediately angled her phone away, turning the brightness down.
âBabe, you good?â
She didnât look up.
âI'm fine. It was nothing,â she said, softer now.
But her attention was locked to the screen.
Let me know when youâre done running and you can have it whenever you want.
synopsis: Hollywood has its fair share of secrets, devious celebrities, and messy scandals. But behind the scenes, an anonymous blog known as House of Rumors unveils its boldest challenge yet: make Michael B. Jordan fall in love before the Academy Awards. Wunmi Mosaku accepts without hesitation. The only problem? No one ever taught her what to do when the leading lady falls first.
pairing: Michael B Jordan x Wunmi Mosaku
warnings: au, romcom, fluff, eventual smut, cursing, slow burn, angst, wunmi the birthday AND drama!
authors note: sorry for the wait! hope you all enjoy! canât wait to continue this series.
âHollywood has always been built on three things: power, fame, and secrets.â
â THE CURATOR
Since 2015, House of Rumors had posted without fail every Wednesday at exactly 12:30 a.m. Pacific Standard Time. It didnât matter whether Hollywood was celebrating another Best Actor winner or cleaning up after its messiest scandal, a new post always appeared.
Members of the House knew one thing: Wednesday without a House of Rumors post was never an accident.
If House of Rumors were to ever go silent, would be the day Hollywood goes quiet.
Because the one thing thatâs more dangerous than a rumor was the reason there isnât one.
Since its launch, House of Rumors has remained Hollywoodâs top secret source for the industry.
Lipstick Alley has the discussions. Deuxmoi has submissions. Crazy Days and Nights has the blind items. Though the difference is that House of Rumors lives within the industry. By the time a rumor reached the public, members of the House had already discussed it days prior.
House of Rumors isnât interested in the fabrication life that celebrities have for the public.
The perfect red carpet pose so that Twitter wouldnât go down in a frenzy. The perfectly written Instagram caption. The carefully rehearsed answers during press tours.
Everyone knows that version of Hollywood already.
House of Rumors is interested in everything that happens after the cameras stop rolling.
The makeup artists who overheard a conversation in a studio hallway.
A stylist who noticed a celebrity arrives to set wearing someone elseâs jacket.
The crew members who saw two co-stars spending a little too much time together between takes.
A producer who knew a project was falling apart months before the announcement.
These stories never made it past a publicistâs statement. All of these stories live inside House of Rumors.
Now, nobody publicly admits to having a profile on House of Rumors, of course.
During one red carpet interview, a New York Times reporter asked an A-List actress whether rumors regarding a secret Hollywood website were true.
She giggled. Almost instinctively, her fingers drifted to the side of her nose.
âNo, of course not,â she laughed. âThatâs hilarious.â The interview ended shortly afterward.
It was cute. Really cute.
Especially considering her username had been active twenty-three minutes earlier.
The public thought nothing of her body language. Members of the House noticed immediately.
It was the one thing the actress hasnât mastered: lying. Every time she lied, she touched her nose.
Sometimes even Hollywoodâs best performers forgot they were acting.
The public will never understand the appeal.
To outsiders, House of Rumors is nothing more than just another piece of lore connected to Hollywood. A story people whisper about, a website that may or may not exist, or a rumor about rumors.
They couldnât be more wrong.
Disappointedly, House of Rumorsâ layout was simple. Black, gold, and minimal.
Thereâs no flashing banners. No advertisements that begged for attention. No Pinterest-worthy aesthetic meant to keep users scrolling for hours.
House of Rumors isnât to impress anyone. Simply, House of Rumors provides protection for Hollywood.
Hollywood views House of Rumors as a rare commodity; a place where actors, actresses, directors, assistants, stylists, producers, and everyone in between could say what they actually thought without worrying about headlines the next morning.
House of Rumors doesnât need unnecessary features to keep people coming back. The conversations do that for them.
Every section serves a different purpose. Some were for debates. Some were for confessions. Some were for the questions Hollywood avoided answering publicly.
Where members can debate anything from casting choices and directors final cuts to box office performances and viral moments.
đ«Ł These Are My Confessions!
Yes, âThese are my confessions.â
Actors, actresses, crew members, assistants, producers, stylists, and everyone in between anonymous send in their deepest secrets. Itâs considered the most addictive section on the site.
âI accidentally fell for my co-star.â
âIâm seeing my married director.â
âMy agent wants me to leave my hit show.â
âI only accepted the role because I needed the paycheck.â
đ The Oscar Goes ToâŠ?
All things awards season.
Predictions, campaign posters, Oscar buzz, snubs, Golden Globes, SAG Awards, Emmys, Critics Choiceâthe industryâs biggest race.
đ„ First Take
Behind the Scenes.
Stories from set, first table reads, chemistry tests, directors, crew members, auditions, and hidden gems that audiences never see.
âïž Industry Gossip
Because whispers travel faster than headlines.
Rumors about upcoming projects, casting news, studio drama, production delays, celebrity relationships, and everything Hollywood pretends not to care about.
đ Hollywood Questions
Ask the industry.
Questions members ask that only people working in Hollywood can answer.
Is method acting really effective?
Do chemistry reads really matter?
Whatâs the biggest misconception about actors?
Have you ever walked off set?
Whatâs the hardest scene youâve ever had to film?
What is it about intimate scenes that make co-stars awkward with each other afterwards?
đïž The HotSpot
1,842 Active Discussions
đ«Ł These Are My Confessions!
3,129 Anonymous Confessions
đ The Oscar Goes To...?
967 Award Season Threads
đ„ First Take
1,304 Behind-the-Scenes Posts
â Industry Gossip
2,511 Rumor Discussions
đ Hollywood Questions
786 Open Questions
The only account members of the House recognized belonged to someone nobody has ever met.
The Curator
There was no profile picture, biography, follower count, or verified badge.
Hollywoodâs most famous account was a simple black profile icon with a small gold âCâ sitting beside an username that had become one of Hollywoodâs biggest mysteries.
Is The Curator an actress? An actor? Maybe an assistant or director? Or one theory suggests The Curator isnât one person at all.
Some members swear itâs an Oscar-winning actor. A few insists itâs a studio executive that has too much free time on their hands.
One discussion even argues The Curator is five assistants secretly sharing one account.
Nobody ever proves anything and nobody ever asks.
Because unlike every other member, The Curator never answers questions.
They simply posts.
Every Wednesday at exactly 12:30 a.m., a new message appears.
Sometimes itâs a discussion, a confession, or even a simple reminder. But every post begins the same way. With a quote.
âYouâll forever be remember in Hollywood for your greatest performances. The House, however, remembers who you were before the cameras started rolling.â
â THE CURATOR
Members rarely discuss the quotes, they simply read them, scroll, and wait for whatever comes next.
Among the thousands of anonymous members refreshing the website every Wednesday morning..
Wunmi Mosaku is one of them.
Ever since her time on Lovecraft Country, Wunmi has been a House of Rumors member.
Jurnee had introduced her to the website between takes, excitedly noting that itâs the only place in Hollywood where people actually tell the truth.
At first, Wunmi thought the entire thing sounded ridiculous. A secret website? Anonymous actors? Industry confessions? In Wunmiâs mind, it sounded like the beginning of a bad conspiracy theory.
Then she received an invitation.
Curiosity wins, always.
She accepted, and much to her surprise, Jurnee hadnât exaggerated.
Like most members, Wunmi rarely posts or comments. She prefers watching.
Her username, LeadingLady, hasnât made a post in months.
Reading debates that somehow turned into masterclasses on television. Scrolling through anonymous questions from aspiring peers. Laughing at occasional confessions that sound far too specific to be fake.
Some Wednesdays Wunmi promised herself sheâd only spend five minutes on the site. Forty-five minutes later, sheâd still be scrolling.
House of Rumors quietly became part of her routine.
Tea -> House of Rumors -> Work
April 2024
This Wednesday is no different. The smell of tea drifts throughout Wunmiâs home as morning sunlight slips through the curtains.
Her phone buzzes, three times.
An email. A missed called. A text from Danielle asking if sheâs awake.
Instead, Wunmi ignores all three. She decides to open the familiar black-and-gold website sheâs visited nearly every Wednesday for a couple of years.
But before the discussions load, a familiar reminder appears.
THE HOUSE RULES
Respect anonymity
No screenshots
Receipts over rumors
Publicists arenât moderators
Everyone is anonymous.. until they arenâtâŠ
â THE CURATOR
Wunmi had read the rules dozens of times. Like every other member, she clicked Accept without a second thought.
The homepage loaded.
Her fingers instinctively tapped đ«Ł These Are My Confessions!
A new submission sat at the top.
Anonymous I accidentally fall for my co-star. Posted 18 minutes ago
Top Comment
AfterCredits Yeah⊠every co-star says theyâre âjust friendsâ before a relationship starts.
Wunmi laughed, she didnât even bother opening the thread.
She keeps scrolling, another confession.
Award season makes me hate everyone
Another.
I smiled through an entire press tour knowing my contract wasnât being renewed.
Wunmi frowned, Hollywood really is exhausting. Backing out of the page, she tapped đïž The HotSpot.
Todayâs most popular discussion has nearly two thousand replies.
Do audiences mistake on-screen chemistry for real-life attraction too often?
Wunmi doesnât even bother opening it. She already knows the answer.
Yes, always.
People love romance, especially when it doesnât belong to them.
With a quiet shake of her head, she closed House of Rumors.
Her tea had gotten cold by the time her laptop chimed.
9:17am.
New Email
AUDITION REQUEST
Project: Sinners
Director: Ryan Coogler
Attached beneath are seven pages. Seven pages, it makes Wunmi pause for a moment.
The first page introduces a woman named Annie. By the second page, Wunmiâs smiling. By the fifth, sheâd completely forgotten she was reading for an audition.
By the seventh page, Wunmi found herself staring at her laptop screen long after sheâd finished.
Wunmi read the final page again. Then a third time. She lets out a quiet giggle, âWait..â
Reaching for her phone, Wunmi called her agent.
âIs thisâŠ?â
âA love story?â her agent interrupted.
Wunmi lets out a sound that almost sounds like a laugh, âThatâs exactly what I was about to ask.â
Her agent spoke truthfully, âI honestly donât know.â
Neither of them did. Seven pages isnât enough to figure out Ryan Coolgerâs plans.
However, itâs enough for Wunmi to know one thing.
AMERICAN DREAM
soldier!smoke x virginteacher!annie
NINE.1: All You Gotta Do Is Try A Little Tenderness
previous next
cw: none
summary: the military does a lot to a man. for smoke it gives him dreams. dreams of a woman heâs never met a day in his life. all he knows is the sweet sound of her voice and the outline of her body. itâs like his soul is crying for her, but he doesnât even know where to start looking.
notes: i'm so sorry for taking this long on this update. work was getting me bad. anyways, i went back last chapter so i can remember what age i made annie because for some reason it's not in my notes. so erm when ray said she was 26 last chapter let's just say that it was because he was getting a headstart on saying her age. anyways, on to the story!
September 7th, 1958
The afternoon sun poured through the classroom windows, making everything glow warm and golden.Â
It was the last lesson of the day and Annie stood at the front of the room with a piece of chalk in her hand, trying her hardest to keep twenty-something restless children focused for just a few more minutes.Â
It was Friday afternoon. The weekend was only moments away. Their little bodies were practically vibrating with excitement. Every few seconds somebody shifted in their seat.
Annie fought back a smile.
"Y'all can give me five more minutes," she said, tapping the chalk lightly against the board.
A few dramatic groans filled the room.
"Miss Annie," one little girl whined.
"Just a little longer."
And as she continued teaching, she noticed strange things were happening. The children kept exchanging secret little looks and whispers. A few of them kept reaching inside their desks and then quickly pulling their hands back out whenever she looked in their direction.
Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion because something was definitely going on. But before she could investigate, one of the students in the front row suddenly shot their hand into the air.
"Miss Annie!"
Annie stopped writing on the board, "Yes, baby?"
"We got a surprise for you!" The little girl bounced excitedly in her seat.
"A surprise?" she asked.
The child nodded so hard her braids bounced.
Annie looked around the room to see all the children were smiling at her. She was truly confused
"What kinda surprise?" she asked.
The children looked around at each other like they were making sure everyone was ready. Then all at once little hands dove into the openings of their desks. After grabbing what they were reaching for, they stood up. And the room exploded in noise as they all shouted happy birthday.
Annie gasped. Her hand flew to her chest so fast she almost dropped her chalk.
The children held up paper hearts. Some were cut perfectly, others looked like circles more than hearts. A few had glitter and crayon scribbles on. But every single one had something written on it.
"Oh my goodness..." Her voice cracked as she looked around, a little laugh coming out. Her eyes were starting to sting.Â
Her heart was entirely too full as she took in every little face. This particualr first grade class had only been with her for a month, yet somehow these babies had warmed up to her quickly.
She knew who needed help tying their shoes, who hated number and reading, the ones who always forgot their materials. And apparently they knew her too.
"You surprised me alright," she admitted.
A little girl in the back practically vibrated with excitement, "You really was surprised?!"
"I was very surprised."
The entire room erupted into cheers.
Annie's eyes were soft and full of love as she said, "I love y'all so much."
At that statement it was like she opened the floodgates. The children jumped up from their spots and rushed her. Tiny arms wrapped around any place they could touch. Some of them squeezed so hard Annie nearly lost her balance.
Annie laughed helplessly while trying to hug all of them back.
The kids started screaming about how much they loved her, how they didn't want her to get old, and saying happy birthday over and over.Â
In the middle of all the chaos, Lillian appeared in the doorway. Apparently, the noise from Annie's classroom had traveled down the hallway.
"Everything okay in here?" she asked.
Annie looked up from the sea of children attached to her. She was holding several of them while others continued waving their paper hearts in the air.Â
"They just surprised me, that's all."
One little girl turned around proudly.
"We made Miss Annie happy birthday hearts."
Lillian looked on at the most adorable sight in front of her and smiled.
"Alright now, y'all don't squeeze her too hard. She gotta make it to her actual birthday tomorrow," she said finally.Â
The children took that and started shouting about birthdays, cakes, presents, and ice cream. Lillian shook her head affectionately before stepping back into the hallway.
It took Annie a good while to get her classroom back under control. Every time she managed to get one child back in their seat, another one was popping up to give her one last hug or wave one of their paper hearts at her.
Eventually, after enough promises that she loved every single one of them and that she would absolutely remember their surprise forever, the children finally settled back into their desks.
The room buzzed with leftover excitement as Annie sat on the edge of her desk watching them pack up.
One of the kids stopped packing and turned to her with narrowed eyes, "Miss Annie?"
"Yes?"
"Does being twenty-six mean you're old?" the little boy tilted his head.
Several children gasped and a few looked at her concerned.
"Now why would you ask me something like that?" Annie bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.
"My mama say twenty-five is almost thirty and when you're thirty you get bad knees," the boy shrugged.
"Twenty-six ain't old," she managed to say.
The children seemed relieved.
"So you still young?"
Annie nodded, "Yes. Very young."
Thankfully, the final bell chose that exact moment to ring throughout the building. As they filed toward the door, many of them stopped beside her to give her a goodbye.
The room slowly emptied until the last child finally disappeared through the doorway.
Annie smiled softly before walking back toward her desk.
Usually she'd throw everything into a bag and grade it at home, but not today. Since tomorrow was her birthday, she had no intention of spending any part of the weekend hunched over papers. So, she settled into her chair and got to work.
The next hour passed and the school gradually emptied around her. When she finished, she stretched her arms above her head and groaned softly. She packed everything away, making sure to take extra care of the little paper hearts.Â
After checking her classroom one last time, Annie switched off the lights and headed outside. The late afternoon air felt warm against her skin. She walked across the parking lot toward her car. The bright yelowl paint practically glowed in the sunlight.
She unlocked the door and loaded her things into the back seat. Then she slid in behind the steering wheel. A moment later she pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.
The entire ride home was a bit shorter than usual but it put Annie in an even better mood.
When she pulled onto her street, the late afternoon sun was beginning to soften into evening. The neighborhood was alive. Children were still playing outside, people sat on their front stoops, and music was playing from an open window.Â
Annie eased her yellow car into her usual parking spot along the curb in front of the house. She gathered her purse, her grading bag, her lunch container, and her students' paper hearts before climbing out.
"Hey, Little Annie!"
She looked over and saw Mr. Jenkins and his wife sitting on their stoop across the street.
"Hey, Mr. Jenkins."
"How was work?"
"It was good."
"You ready for your birthday tomorrow?"
Annie smiled wide at the couple, "It seems like everybody's ready."
Mr. Jenkins laughed, " That's 'cause Annette been reminding people about it all week."
Annie rolled her eyes.
Mrs. Jenkins smiled.
"Happy birthday, baby."
"Thank you."
After another minute of chatting, Annie finally headed inside the house. She pushed the front door open, the familiar smell of food greeted her.
"Mama?" Annie called.
"In the kitchen."
Annie followed the sound of her grandmother's voice and sure enough, Mama Nette stood at the stove with an apron tied around her waist. Annie dropped her things on a nearby chair before leaning over and pressing a kiss against her grandmother's cheek.
"Hey, baby."
"Hey."
"How was work?" her grandmother pattedÂ
Annie's face lit up.
"The kids did the cutest thing ever," She started digging through her bag. "They made me birthday paper hearts."
She pulled out several of them and spread them across the kitchen table.
Mama Nette turned from the stove long enough to look. A soft smile graced her face. The hearts were covered in drawings and messages.
"Well ain't that just sweet? This class must really love you."
Annie nodded her head as she sat down at the kitchen table. She kicked off one heel th the table and stretched her legs, "I guess they really do. They're really an interesting group. One of them asked me if turning twenty-six meant I was old."
Mama Nette let out a laugh that echoed through the kitchen, "What'd you tell 'em?"
"I told them twenty-six ain't old."
"'Cause it ain't. But it is grown."
"I guess," Annie hummed.
Despite turning twenty-six tomorrow, there were still moments where she felt seventeen or twelveâŠor seven. There were still times she wanted somebody else to make decisions for her.Â
The conversation faded and the kitchen grew quiet for a few moments. The only sounds came from the food cooking and the occasional clink of utensils.
Annie leaned back in her chair while Mama Nette stirred a pot. Then, without turning around, she spoke.
"You been spending a lot of time with Elijah lately."
Annie already knew where this conversation was headed. Still, she answered casually.
"Well, we're together now. SoâŠ" She trailed off.
"Mhm."
"You know that."
"I know."
Annie eyed the back of her grandmother's head suspiciously, but Mama Nette kept cooking.
"You two together just about every day."
Now that they had finally gotten past their argument and officially started courting, it felt natural. If she wasn't at work, there was a good chance she was with Elijah. If she wasn't with Elijah, she was probably thinking about him. And she knew he was the same way.
Annie shrugged, "I just like seeing him. Is that hard to believe?"
"Mhm."
The hum was getting on Annie's nerves now.
Mama Nette stirred something again.
"You been spending a lot of time at his apartment too."
Annie narrowed her eyes.Â
Her grandmother never brought up something unless she was headed somewhere with it. Over the past few weeks Annie had splent plenty of time there. She'd be there after work and on weekends. Some Saturdays she'd stay almost the entire day. They would watch television, cook together, talk, listen to records, read, and sometimes she'd fall asleep on his couch. But every single time, she'd always gone home and her grandmother knew that. Which meant she was fishing.
Annie sighed loudly, "For your information, we don't be doing anything."
"I ain't say y'all did."
"You was trying to."
"I wasn't trying to do nothing."
Mama Nette finally glanced over her shoulder with a tiny smile tugging at her lips.
"Well you saying it like I'm doing something."
"Are you?"
"You know I'm not!"
"Mhm," Mama Nette turned back toward the stove.
The sound only made Annie more irritated.
"I'm not doing this with you," Annie immediately started gathering her things. "I'm going upstairs."
Before her grandmother could say anything else, Annie grabbed her bag and headed toward the stairs. She could hear Mama Nette chuckling behind her as she climbed each step.
A grumble came out as she disappeared into her room and shut the door behind her.
The next morning, Annie was pulled from sleep by the sound of a gentle knock against her bedroom door.
She groaned softly and buried her face deeper into her pillow. For a few seconds she debated pretending she hadn't heard it, but then another knock came.
"Come in," she called sleepily.
The door opened slowly and Mama Nette stepped inside carrying a plate in one hand. She had a smile on her face and was humming as soon as she entered the room.
The familiar tune instantly wrapped around Annie. It was a song she'd heard her entire life and it always proved that she was loved.
Annie sat up slowly against her pillows as her grandmother approached the bed.
On the plate sat a large homemade cinnamon roll covered in icing with a single lit candle right in the center. The flame danced softly in the morning light.
Mama Nette sat carefully on the edge of the bed and finished the last few lines of the song.
"Happy birthday, baby."
"Thank you."
Mama Nette held the plate toward her.
"Make a wish."
Annie looked down at the candle.
Somehow she was twenty-six now. It felt strange.
She remembered being a little girl wishing she could hurry up and become grown. Now she was grown. She had a job she loved, friends who loved her, and a man that she was actually falling in love with. Her life wasn't perfect, but it was hers.
Annie closed her eyes and made her wish. Then she leaned forward and blew the candle out. The tiny flame disappeared and Mama smiled at her.
Her grandmother set the plate on the bedside table before standing. Then a mischievous smile appeared on her face and she folded her arms.
"I got a surprise downstairs."
"What kind?"
"If I tell you it ain't a surprise," Her grandmother laughed. "So get decent and take your time."
Mama Nette headed toward the door and disappeared down the hall.
The second the door closed Annie reached for the cinnamon roll. The icing was still warm and that first bite made her groan. No bakery had ever made one that tasted better.
She ate it quickly while trying to guess what the surprise could possibly be. When she finished, her curiosityy was eating her alive. She threw on her robe, slipped her feet into house shoes, and hurried out of her room. The smell of breakfast drifted up from downstairs.
Annie gripped the banister and quickly descended the stairs. She followed the faint sounds coming from the dining room.
The second she stepped through the doorway she stopped. Elijah was in the middle of the dining room holding a huge bouquet of flowers in one arm and a beautifully wrapped box in the other. He looked up at the exact moment she entered.
Annie let out the loudest squeal of excitement and before he could even react she was moving across the floor. He had to hold the flowers out so they wouldn't get crushed as she practically launched herself at him.
"Good morning to you too, Bunny."
She wrapped both arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. So tightly he had to adjust the gifts in his hands.
"You're here! You weren't supposed to be here yet!"
"I know."
Annie hugged him even tighter. Her excitement was impossible to contain.
"I thought I wasn't seeing you until later."
Elijah finally shifted the flowers enough to wrap one arm around her waist. His hand settled against her back.
"There was no way I was lettin' your birthday start without seeing you."
Annie's smile grew. Her heart felt so full she thought she might float away.
Elijah looked at her. Despite how she looked with her robe, still rolled hair, and a just woke up face, he thought she looked absolutely beautiful. He pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek before lowering his mouth close to her ear.
"Happy birthday, Bunny." His voice was low, warm, and just for her.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Annie loosened her grip around Elijah's neck and stepped back. She really took a look at the flowers in his hand. The giant bouquet was full of flowers in warm shades of cream, pink, and yellow.
"They're beautiful."
"Even more than you."
Annie sucked her teeth and lightly pushed his arm.
Elijah set the bouquet carefully in the center of the dining room table before placing the gift box directly in front of Annie. Her eyes dropped to it.
"Open it."
Annie looked up, "Right now?"
"You think I wrapped it up for tomorrow?" Elijah raised an eyebrow.
"Okay," she laughed.
Sliding into one of the dining room chairs, Annie carefully pulled the box closer. She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside there were two smaller boxes.
Elijah stood beside her chair with one hand resting against the back of it while the other settled on the edge of the table. He watched her with the kind of attention that made her feel like she was the only person in the room.
Annie reached for the smaller box and carefully opened it. Nestled against the soft velvet fabric was a beautiful pearl necklace. These weren't imitation pearls of costume jewelry, this was the real thing. The creamy white pearls glowed softly in the morning sunlight coming through the dining room windows.
Elijah watched Annie's face as she lifted the necklace up. The wonder in her eyes made the money spent well worth it.
She gently touched it with her fingertips then slowly looked up at him.
"You really bought this for me?"
"Bunny, who else would I buy it for?"
She shook her head in disbelief and looked back down at the necklace. It was far too beautiful and probably far too expensive. She placed the necklace back into the box before setting it down and reaching for the second one.
The second gift was a gorgeous pair of red heels. The color was rich and the leather was smooth. The heel wasn't too high, but it was just high enough.
She turned them around in her hands to admire every angle. They were exactly the kind of shoes she'd stop and admire in a store window but would never actually buy for herself.
Annie looked between the necklace and the shoes then back at him.
"You spent way too much money on me."
"It's your birthday and you're worth it," Elijah shrugged. "Do you like them?"
The warmth in her eyes answered before she could. Annie instantly nodded.
"I love them. Thank you," her voice came out way softer than she intended.
"You're welcome, Bunny."
He leaned down and his lips brushed against hers in a soft, sweet kiss. It made her smile before they even pulled away from each other.
When he did pull back, Annie frowned up at him.
"What?" he looked at her with slightly suspicious eyes.
"That's it? That's the only kiss I get on my birthday?"
His eyebrows rose up as he apologized, "I'm sorry. You want another one."
She nodded very seriously, "I do."
Elija leaned down again, but this kiss lasted a little longer than the last. The kiss still being very surface level, not wanting to go too far in the presence of her grandmother. It was more like a drawn out peck than anything.
When they pulled back for the second time, Annie smiled wide. Then, Elijah pulled out the chair beside Annie and sat down. Mama Nette came in from the kitchen carrying plates, the smell alone made Annie's stomach growl. That cinnamon roll had done little to help her hunger.
The plates were stacked with bacon, eggs, biscuits, grits, and fruit. It was more than enough food to feed three people. Elijah even helped to bring some of the plates into the dining room. Together they set everything on the table, then sat down.
For a while they simply ate with easy conversation flowing every now and then. Mama Nette would ask Elijah about work or Elijah asked Annie about the school. Mama Nette caught them up on the latest news she got from her older friends from all over the block.
After breakfast finally came to an end, Annie gathered up everyone's plates before either of them could stop her.
"Birthday girl ain't supposed to be cleaning," Elijah told her as she stacked dishes in her arms.
"And birthday girl don't want dishes sitting around all morning," Annie shot back.
Mama Nette waved her hand, "Let her do it. She hardheaded."
Annie rolled her eyes but couldn't stop grinning as she disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned to the dining room with her hands freshly washed. The smile on her face faded away when she noticed Elijah standing up looking as if he was going to leave.
His jacket was in his hand and he looked suspiciously like a man preparing to leave.
"What you doing?"
Elijah looked over at her, "Going to work."
"What?" Annie stopped walking.
"I gotta go in for a little while."
Her face scrunched up and a pout appeared so quick, "But it's my birthday."
The words came out so dramatic that even Mama Nette rolled her eyes from her chair.
Elijah opened his mouth then immediately closed it because Annie's pout somehow got worse.
"Bunny."
"It's my birthday and you're leavin'." She walked across the room and grabbed his hand.
"I'm coming back. I'm only going in for a few hours. A car been givin' one of the boys trouble for some days now."
"So?" Annie let out a huff and narrowed her eyes.
"So I told him I'd help."
"But it's my birthday."
"You done said that four times," Elijah shook his head at how dramatic his woman could be.
He truly loved this woman. The longer they spent together the more she showed him parts of herself she kept hidden ffrom other people. Most people saw the sweet, patient, kind side of Annie. And she was still all of that, but he also got to see the stubborn, dramatic, and spoiled side of Annie. And he loved it.
"'Cause you keep ignorin' the important part of it being my birthday."
He stepped closer and gently squeezed her hand.
"I'll be back before your party."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Annie looked unconvinced.
"Bunny."
She sighed dramatically, "Fine. But I'm still upset."
"I'll make it up to you."
"You better."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then finally her lips. The kisses were so gentle they made Annie forget what she was complaining about in the first place.
Finally, Annie walked him to the front door.
When they got outside, she grabbed his arm.
"You're really leaving me now?"
"Annette."
The use of her first name and not her nickname made Annie concede to him.
"This wasn't long enough."
"I'll see you later, baby. Calm down, okay?"
She sighed and let go of his arm. They stared at each other long enough for Annie to nod and step back.
Annie stood on the stoop and watched as he got in his car and drove away. Only then did she head back inside.
The moment she stepped into the living room Mama Nette looked up from her position on the couch.
"I'm bout sick of you and that man. Glad he had to leave for work or else y'all woulda been annoying me all damn day."
Annie frowned, "Mama, you always being mean to me. It's my birthday, leave us alone."
"Girl gone on."
Annie shook her head and headed upstairs. Once inside her room, she officially started getting ready for the day.
If she was being honest, she wasn't planning on sitting in the house until her party.
She opened her closet and looked through her dresses. After several minutes she finally settled on her favorite yellow one. The bright sunny color made her smile every time she wore it. The dress cinched perfectly at her waist before flaring out around her knees when she moved. The fitted bodice highlighted her lush curves beautifully, especially her chest, while the skirt gave her room to move comfortably.
It was feminine, bright, and fun. Which was exactly how she wanted to feel for the day.
She carefully did her hair, applied a little makeup, and added some perfume. Then stepped back from her mirror only to see that she was practically glowing.
Feeling pleased with herself, she headed downstairs to the phone. She wasn't spending the few hours she had before the party alone, especially after Elijah left her. So she called Monica first.
"Monica?"
"Hey birthday girl."
"Are you dressed?"
"Yes, but for what? The party's not till later."
"Not really thinkin' too mucha bout the party right now. I want to be out, so come get me."
"Fine, but you better be ready since you callin' tryin' to make all kinds of demands and things."
"I'm ready. You just come on."
After hanging up with Monica she called the rest of the group to inform them of her spontaneous plans for the day.
Since she had a little time before they arrived, she spent it putting on jewelry and fixing the tiny details.
Every few minutes she checked the clock, then the window, then the clock again. Eventually she heard a car horn outside and she nearly tripped herself by quickly stepping downstairs. She hurried out the front door to the familiar blue car that sat parked along the curb.
Monica was behind the wheel, Michelle sat in the passenger seat, and Lillian was in the back.
The second they spotted Annie coming down the walkway, all three women started hollering. Lillian even whistled out of the window.
Monica leaned halfway out the window.
"Oh you cute girl."
"Real cute," Michelle nodded approvingly.
Annie climbed into the car, and the second the door shut, Monica pulled away from the curb taking them to the direction of Annie's favorite dress shop.
They drove down to Pennsylvania Avenue. The city moving in streaks of color through the car windows as Monica navigated through traffic. The storefronts were getting more clustered and lively.
Eventually, Monica found a parking spot near a row of boutiques and eased the car to a stop. The dress shop was nestled between a salon and a small jewelry store. The windows of the shop were wide, displaying mannequins dressed in everything from elegant evening wear to casual day to day.
All four ladies got out at once, the sound of the car doors slamming blanding into the busy city noise around them. Annie smoothed her dress down as they walked up to the entrance.
The bell above the door chimed when they stepped inside. Cool air hit them, along with the faint smell of fabric, perfume, and polished wood floors.
Instantly, they all split up, taking different areas of the store to cover plenty of ground. Annie slowly wandered between racks of dresses, fingers brushing fabric as she passed. She was just lifting a pale blue dress off the rack when Monicaâs voice cut through the aisle.
âSo Annie, what you doing after the party?â
Annieâs eyebrows pulled together. âThe party probably gone be going on late. I was just gonna go up to sleep after.â
Monica hummed like she didnât believe her. She continued flipping through dresses without looking up.
âSo you really don't have nothing planned,â she asked.
âNo. Should I?â Annie frowned.
Monica finally glanced up for half a second, then went right back to the rack.
âI figured you and Elijah was gonna want some alone time.â
Annie blinked, âWe saw each other this morning.â
âIâm already tired of talking in circles. You giving it up tonight?â Monica made a small sound, unimpressed.
Annie let out a breath that sounded half disbelief, half embarrassment. She turned away, grabbing another dress off the rack like she suddenly needed something to do with her hands.
âNo, I'm still not doing any of that tonight,â she said finally.
Monicaâs head tilted slightly. âAnd why not?â
"Because I don't want to," Annie's grip tightened on the hanger.
âBut y'all have been together for a long while now,â Lillian slid in.
Annie shook her head quickly, âIt ain't been that long. It's barely been a month since we made it official.â
âY'all leave her alone. If she says she ain't ready, she ain't ready,â Michelle stepped in calmly.
Monica exhaled through her nose like she was holding back something more blunt. âIâm just saying, Annie been saying she not ready for years.â
âSome people waiting ain't a crime. I waited till I married Tommy,â Michelle cut her eyes at Monica.
âThatâs different. You and Tommy been together since y'all were sixteen and got married a few years later. Annie over here almost thirty and still ainât even rub one out goââ
âMonica,â Annie said sharply. She looked around, lowering her voice even more, âCan we stop talking about this?â
Monica held her gaze for a second, then nodded once, âAlright, Iâll let it go.â
Annie exhaled. âThank you.â
âMhm.â
The tension eased just slightly as they all went back to browsing, the moment settling into awkward quiet. Annie tried to focus on the dresses again, brushing through fabrics with slower hands now, her earlier excitement dulled by the conversation.
Across the aisle, Michelleâs voice suddenly lifted.
âLook at what I found.â
All three turned to look at her to see Michelle was holding up a dress from the rack, stepping back so they could see it better.
The dress was gorgeous. It was a rich deep red that caught the eye without being overly flashy. The sleeves stopped just above the elbows, while the skirt flowed outward in a soft swing shape that would move beautifully whenever she walked or danced. The hem hit a few inches above the knee.
But what really caught Annie's attention was the neckline. The curve dipped lower than anything she normally wore. It was just enough to highlight her chest and collarbone.
Michelle grinned at her, "What you think?"
"I think I know exactly what to wear with this," Annie reached out and touched the fabric.
A short while later the dress was purchased, neatly folded into a large shopping bag, and the four women were heading back toward Monica's car. Once everyone climbed inside, Monica started the engine.
Everyone had reached the point where shopping had turned into hunger.
They pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. They'd only been driving a few minutes when Annie spotted realized they were heading down the same street that her uncle's garage was on.
"Can we stop up here for a while?"
All the ladies followed her finger that was pointing up the street to Ray's garage. When they realized where and why she was pointing, Lillian groaned.
"You're gonna see that man in a few hours."
"And it's my birthday," Annie said.
Lillian shook her head, but eventually the women gave in. Mostly because they knew Annie would be insufferable otherwise.
Monica turned into the lot and parked near the front of the garage. Annie got out of the car and was instantly greeted with the sounds of tools clanking and men talking. The smell of oil and grease was prominent in the air. The large doors were wide open, and a few cars filled the different bays.
When she actually stepped inside and people spotted her they greeted her happily. A whistle from somewhere deeper in the garage sounded out as they all wished her happy birthday.
She kept going until she spotted Ray near one of the lifts.
"Uncle Ray!"
Ray looked up and the second he saw her his face lit up, "Well look at my birthday girl."
Annie smiled and walked over. Once she reached him, Ray wrapped her up in a tight hug.
"Happy birthday, Sweet Pea."
"Thank you, Uncle Ray."
When he pulled away he looked her over and his eyebrows rose.
"You look beautiful today."
"Thank you," Then she tilted her head. "You still coming tonight?"
"Of course I'm coming," Ray looked offended.
"I was just asking," she laughed
"I'm getting there right when it starts. I gotta make sure the shop gets closed up right. Clara should already be over at the house helping you grandmother and them set everything up."
Annie nodded as her eyes drifted around without meaning too. After several seconds Annie casually asked, "So...where's Elijah?"
Ray's face went stoic at the mention of his employee, "He in the back taking a break.
She tried to keep her face neutral, "Okay, I'll go talk to him for a little while. I'll see you later."
"Alright, Sweet Pea."
She turned and headed toward the back of the garage where the small break room was tucked away behind the amin work area. The further she walked, the quieter it became. She reached the doorway then carefully peeked inside.
Elijah was sitting at a small table against the wall, leaning back in his chair while eating a sandwich and drinking from a bottle of soda. His work shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and there were faint grease stains across his shirt from the day. He looked tired from working since leaving her house earlier that morning.
He looked up to see her standing in the doorway. His entire face changed and his eyebrows shot up.
"Bunny?"
"Hi."
For a moment he just stared at her because he genuinely hadn't expected to see her until later that night. A slight slow smile spread across his face.
"Now what you doin' here?" He set his sandwich down and wiped his hands with a rag before holding one hand out toward her. "C'mere."
Annie didn't need to be told twice. She walked across the room and slipped her hand into his. His fingers immediately closed around hers.
"I thought you would be out having some birthday fun before your party."
"I am."
"Mm," He squeezed her hand. "Then why you down here botherin' hardworking people?"
Annie laughed.
"Me and the girls were just passing by. They're out there waitin' in the car."
Elijah's eyes slowly traveled over her, lingering on the way the dress perfectly cinched her waist before flowing over the curve of her hips. The skirt of it flared out around her knees, and his gaze found its way back to her face.
"You look absolutely gorgeous."
"Thank you."
Elijah kept holding her hand. Neither one seemed particularly interested in letting go. And for a few moments they simply looked at each other in a comfortable silence.
Then Annie glanced down to the chair, and more specifically Elijah's lap. Her eyes flicked back up to him then down again.
Elijah followed her gaze and quickly understood what she wanting.
Annie smoothed her hands over the front of her dress almost like she was prepapring herself to sit.
"Hold on. I don't want to ruin your pretty birthday dress."
Before she could argue, he leaned over and grabbed an old clean towel from the table beside him. He unfolded and spread it across his lap.
"Alright, come on."
Annie's smile brightened.
It was such a little thing, but it was exactly the kind of thing Elijah always did. He was always trying to take care of her even in situations where she didn't think it mattered.
She smoothed her dress one more time before easing down on his lap.
Elijah adjusted himself to make sure she was comfortable. His arm hovered behind her to keep her steady while trying not to touch her.
But Annie noticed and she didn't quite like it.
"You know you can touch me, right?"
"Can't. My hands too dirty."
Annie rolled her eyes and settled against him anyway.
"What were y'all doin' on this side of town anyway?" He finally asked.
"We were goin' shopping."
"Y'all always shoppin'. What you was lookin' for?"
"The dress for my party."
"You ain't wearing this one?" His eyebrows lifted.
"This ain't no party dress, Elijah."
"Could've fooled me."
"Well it ain't"
He hummed.
His eyes slowly moved over her for the third time. He was taking her all in, from the weight of her body in his lap to the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. Elijah slightly shifted his legs as he tried to think about anything other than what it would feel like to have her sit on him in other ways.
Annie felt herself getting warm from his stare.
"Stop looking at me like that."
He cleared his throat as he looked away.
"So what dress you get?"
"A pretty red one that I can wear with my new birthday gifts."
Annie reached over and unconciously straightened the collar of his work shirt.
Elijah watched her do it. His heart doing funny flips in his chest.
"I can't wait to see it."
Annie felt her cheeks warm as butterflies exploded in her stomach. After another few minutes she glanced toward the door.
"I should probably go. My friends are waitin' for me."
Elijah sighed.
"Elijah."
"Bunny."
Eventually she stood and he stood right after her. They walked back through the garage together with Elijah staying close behind her.
The closer they got to the front, her smile grew. When they reached Monica's car, Annie felt refreshed and happy. She was practically glowing.
Elijah opened the car door for her. Annie smiled up at him before climbing inside.
The other three women looked at him with smirks on their faces.
"Hey Elijah," they practically called at the same time.
"Afternoon ladies," He looked back at Annie. "I'll see you tonight."
She nodded.
Then Elijah leaned into the car, only planning to give her one quick kiss as a goodbye. heir lips met softly, but when he started pulling away, Annie grabbed his shirt. She leaned forward and kissed him again, holding it a little longer this time.
Elijah let out the tiniest chuckle against her lips before returning the kiss. Annie looked entirely too pleased with herself when they separated.
"See you tonight, Bunny," Elijah shook his head, then shut he door.
Monica cranked the engine and the second the car started moving she looked at Annie in the mirror, "Ain't ready yet my ass."
After leaving the garage, the four women went and got lunch. They spent nearly two hours sitting in a little restaurant laughing and talking. Once they were finished eating, they headed back to Annie's neighborhood for the party.
People were moving around everywhere when they pulled up in front of the house. Her uncle Marcus was carrying a table with Christian helping him. Marcus's girlfriend was arranging decorations on one of the tables. People moved in and out of the house carrying things.
Ever since she was a little girl every year was the same. Her birthday had always been some type of celebration. Sometimes it would only be family, sometimes, family and friends, and even a few times, like this year, the whole neighborhood would come together.
The second Annie climbed out of the car, she heard the calls from several people.
"The birthday girl finally decided to come help?"
Annie laughed as she moved to help someone with a box of things.
For the next couple of hours she worked right alongside everybody else, helping to put things together. She carried things back and forth until her feet started hurting. Eventually her grandmother sent her on to get ready for the night.
She spent time getting ready. She first ran herself a bath, the warm water helped soothe her aching feet after she had been running around all afternoon and morning. Afterward, she dried off and got dressed.
The red dress fit her perfectly. It hugged her waist before flaring outward. The color made her skin glow.
Once she finished getting dressed she proceeded to do her makeup lightly. Then she touched up her hair, making sure her curls fell just right. She put on her new pearl necklace and the matching earrings. Then she slipped into the newly gifted red heels.
She looked absolutely radiant.
The party had just started, so she could hear the sound of music drifted through her bedroom window.
As she headed down the stairs she found Mama Nette standing in the hallway waiting.
The older woman turned and looked her up and down. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head.
"Now look at you little Miss hot thing."
Annie chuckled and wrapped her arms around the older woman. Her grandmother hugged her back tightly. They pulled back and headed for the front door, where the music was louder.
When Annie stepped outside, the street exploded with dozens of cheers and voices screaming happy birthday. The entire street was packed from corner to corner with family, friends, neighbors, church members, and even people she didn't quite know that well.
Annie was just smiling at all of the praise. She waved, thanking everyone as she started down the stoop stairs.
And waiting at he bottom of the stairs was her man. His hand extended out to her, eyes locked on her. Annie bit her lip to hold back the even larger smile that was threatening to take over her face.
"Thank you, baby."
She placed her hand in his and he helped her down, making sure her heels didn't catch on anything. He held on even as her feet touched the sidewalk.
His eyes traveled over the pearls, the dress, the heels, then back to her face.
"Good Lord woman. You are the most beautiful woman I ever seen in my life."
Her face softened.
"You like it?"
"Woman don't you ever ask me nothing like that," he genuinely looked offended.
Before she could respond, Elijah leaned in and their lips met. When they pulled back from each other, Annie squeezed his hand.
"I gotta go speak to people."
He nodded so she started to walk away, but he followed.
Annie spent half an hour making her way through the crowd. Every few feet somebody stopped her to talk. When she was finished with one conversation, someone else wanted to start another.
The entire time Elijah stayed close by with one hand tucked into his pocket while the other occasionally rested against the small of her back whenever things got a little too crowded.
Annie introduced him to so many people she couldn't even keep track. Each introduction did something to Elijah. They made his chest puff up in pride. Even though his face didn't show it, his body language proved that he loved every part of it.
At one point they stopped by a group from church and the ladies were fussing over Annie's dress. Then they started fussing over Elijah and the two of them. They started talking about how they hadn't seen much of the two in the last few weeks. Elijah let Annie do most of the talking, not wanting to say the wrong thing to the older women. He never cared about what the peopl of the church said when it concerned him and Annie, but Annie always had the right words to settle anything that did come up.
Just like how she managed to smoothly change the topic when one of the women brough up marriage and children. The women had no boundaries. Eventually they escaped before the ladies could get any more ideas.
As they went back to wandering through the crowd, Annie spotted her grandmother sitting in a shaded area underneath a big tree. Several older men and women from the neighborhood sat around her in chairs.
Elijah followed her toward the table. As they approached the area, Mama Nette calmed her laughing and waved them closer.
"Good, y'all made y'all way over here. Come here Annie."
That tone made Annie instantly suspicious.
The older woman reached beside her chair and grabbed a cup. It was filled a little over halfway with a clear liquid. And by the way the smell hit her, Annie knew wha it was.
"Mama, I don't want that." Annie's face scrunched up.
"You better take this cup 'cause I ain't raise you to be no pussy cat."
Annie reluctantly accepted the cup and with the ligquid being so close the smell got even stronger. Her head jerked back as the scent practically smacked her in the face.
"It stinks."
The old folks laughed hard.
"Well, it ain't supposed to smell pretty. That's how you know it's that good shine," The older woman turned toward Elijah. "You make sure she drinks all that."
Elijah looked down at the cup then back at Annie. His eyebrows slowly lifted as he realized how strong it probably was. At that moment, he understood Annie's reaction.
Mama Nette lifted her own cup.
"You want some?" Mama Nette lifted her cup.
Elijah shook his head, "No ma'am."
"You sure?"
"Yes ma'am."
The entire table laughed at the look on his face. He looked like a man that wanted no parts of whatever she had given Annie.
Annie took the tiniest sip imaginable, and her entire face twisted up at the taste. She stuck her tongue out in disgust. She looked absolutely horrified.
"How y'all even drinking this mess?"
Mama Nette waved her hand.
"How 'bout you just keep on drinking."
Annie stared at her grandmother for a bit, then turned to Elijah. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away knowing that if they stayed any longer she would be two cups deep.
The party went on as the sun disappeared, leaving the street lit only by porch lights, strings of hanging bulbs, and the occasional headlights from cars parked along the curb.
Any children that were there had been rounded up and sent home. Now it was just the adults. People were dancing and laughing joyfully in the middle of the street.
At some point her friends had managed to corner her near the food tables during one of the moments where her and Elijah were separated. Their conversation quickly turned into a drinking competition. They forced her to finish the cup of mooshine, and then gave another cup of something else.
And now, hours later, Annie was definitely feeling it. Her body was warm and everything seemed funnier than normal. She felt absolutely wonderful.
Elijah noticed this change in her a while ago and hadn't left her side. One of his hands remained firmly planted against the middle of her back as they moved through the crowd. He wanted to make sure she was steady in those pretty new heels of hers.
Annie took a sip from another cup of liquor and Elijah looked over at her.
"Bunny."
She looked at him so innocently, "Hm?"
"You need to slow down."
"What for? I'm fine."
"I'm serious. That stuff's strong," Elijah didn't look too convinced.
"I promise that I'm alright."
But before he could say anything else, the song ended and rolled over into the next one. The crowd cheered as the singer started performing My Babe by Little Walter.
Annie's face lit up and before Elijah knew what was happening, she grabbed his hand and was pulling him toward the middle of the street.
"Bunnyâ"
"I wanna dance, Elijah."
The crowd parted enough to let them through. Annie stopped them right in the middle of the moving crowd. She wrapped her arms around Elijah's neck pulling him close to her.
The movement caught Elijah slightly off guard. He knew she'd had a good amount to drink but he didn't think she'd had enough to make her this loose. So instead of wrapping his arms around her, he hesitated. And of course Annie noticed.
Her eyes narrowed as she grabbed both of his hands and pulled back from him.
"You don't wanna dance with me?"
The confusion in her voice made Elijah's eyebrows rise.
"I ain't say that," He genuinely looked surprised. "I wanna do whatever you wanna do."
"Then why ain't you touchin' me?" She tilted her head. "You scared or somethin'?"
"Naw, I ain't scared," Elijah grumbled.
"Then what is it?"
"Tonight just a little different is all," Elijah glanced down at the cup in her hand then back up at her. "You been drinkin' a lot and you not actin' like yourself."
Annie stared at him for a second, then lifted her cup in the air for emphasis, "All 'cause of this?"
Elijah looked at her and nodded.
Without warning she tipped her head back and finished the rest. She made a face as the good bit of the liquid that was left burned on it's way down. She handed the now empty cup off to a random man that was walking past.
Annie turned back to Elijah with her arms out, "See, no more drink. I'm just fine."
Then she stepped forward and reached for his hands. She guided them to her waist, and pressed them firmly against her. She moved close until there was no space left between them. She smiled triumphantly at their position.
The singer's voice drifted through the air and the crowd moved around them. People were dancing smoothly to the music. But all Elijah saw was her. Happiness was written all over her face and stamped into her body.
He finally relaxed and wrapped his arms around her properly. One hand settled against the middle of her back and the other rested at her waist. A slight smile graced his face as they started to sway to the beat of the song.
The music rolled from one song to the next as they stayed in each other's embrace. And for a while Annie had been dancing and singing along normally to the songs. She laughed whenever Elijah spun her around, waved at people passing by, and stopped every now and then to hug somebody who wanted to tell her happy birthday. But as the night wore on, Elijah could see the moonshine catching up to her.
Her movements became slower, her words became fewer, and every time Elijah looked into her eyes they were glassier than before. She was more affectionate and clingy. Whenever they danced she seemed determined to stay as close to him as possible. Every time he tried to give her some space she'd somehow end up right back against him.
She would giggle at things that weren't particularly funny. Then she started staring at him for long stretches of time.
Elijah rubbed his hand up and down her back, "Bunny?"
"Hm?" she had the happiest little smile on her face.
"You wanna sit down for a while?"
Annie blinked at him clearly trying to process the question.
"What?"
"I asked if you wanna sit down for a little?"
She tilted her head, "...Maybe."
Before he could convince her to take a break, a familiar voice called out. Elijah turned to see Michelle, Tommy, and Lillian approaching them. Michelle had two small plastic cups in her hand.
"We about to take some shots. You want one?"
Annie nodded immediately. Her head going a little too enthusiastically, "Mmhm."
Elijah's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange. The look on his face practically screamed 'hell no'. Before Annie could grab it, Elijah reached over took the cup himself.
"She don't need anymore."
Annie frowned.
"I can drink it."
"Bunny."
"I can."
Tommy shook his head as he watched Annie sway where she stood.
Annie reached around Elijah and managed to grab the cup from his hands. And to her surprise no one stopped her.
Elijah was still eyeing her, "I don't think you should drink anymore, tonight."
"I think I should."
The stubbornness in her voice sounded exactly like sober Annie. The difference was sober Annie usually stood upright while arguing. Drunk Annie was currently leaning halfway into him.
Elijah sighed.
Michelle handed another cup to Lillian and the women gathered together. All three of them lifted their cups. They cheersed as they clinked their cups together. Then they drank them. Annie squeezed her eyes shut at the taste.
Elijah rubbed a hand down his face. At least she hadn't gotten another full cup.
A few seconds later Tommy checked his watch, then wrapped an arm around Michelle's shoulders.
"We finna head out."
Michelle nodded.
Elijah looked over and nodded his head at Lillian, "How they getting home?"
"CJ driving her and Monica in Monica's car."
Elijah nodded, "Alright."
Everybody said their goodbyes and last happy birthdays. Then they headed toward their cars.
The party continued on around them. Someone had started another card game near one of the tables. A group of older women were singing loudly from their folding chairs.
But Annie was officially beyond drunk now. And that was emphasized by the way she was standing there staring directly at his face for no reason.
"Bunny, why you looking at me like that?"
"You just so pretty," Annie smiled dreamily. "You got real pretty eyes."
"See that's enough we sitting down," she didn't argue when he grabbed her hand which worried him just a bit because Annie always argued. Instead she just smiled and followed him willingly while he guided her toward the outer edges of the party.
Elijah led them back over to the large tree that her grandmother was sitting under. He helped her down into an empty chair next to the older woman.
The party was starting to thin out considerably. A few people were still dancing, sitting around, talking, and playing cards, but most of the people were gone for the night.
Annie practically melted into Elijah the second she sat down. Her head leaned against his side and one of her hands gripped tightly onto the fabric of his shirt. Elijah put an arm around her shoulders to steady her. Annie hummed happily.
Mama Nette watched the pair over the rim of her cup. She shook her head at how drunk the younger woman was.
"It'd probably be best if she head on upstairs," she stated after taking a sip from her cup.
Elijah looked down at Annie to see she was struggling to stay awake. Every few seconds she would blink slower and slower. Then she'd catch herself. He gently pushed some fallen hair back from her face.
"Bunny, I'm gonna take you upstairs so you can get in bed."
Annie stared at him.
"Okay."
The response came so easily Elijah knew she was exhausted. She let him help her up., and he steadied her when she wobbled on her feet.
She giggled at herself just then, "I almost fell."
"I see."
He put an arm around her waist and she clung to him instantly. He led her toward the house which was luckily only a few feet away.
Some people nearby called out variations of goodnight and happy birthday as they passed by. Annie waved and thanked them lazily as she gripped Elijah's shirt.
They traveled up the stoop stairs one at a time. Which was a challenge in itself. Once inside the house was far more quiet than outside, and for that Elijah was grateful. The trip upstairs took even longer than the one to get into the house. She stumbled every few steps and would grab his arms to stablize herself.
By the time they reached her bedroom she was yawning and dragging her feet. Elijah opened the door and led her inside. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed and steadied her shoulders as she swayed. Elijah crouched in front of her, keeping a hand on her thigh.
"Where your pajamas at?"
Annie pointed vaguely toward her dresser, "In there."
"Which drawer?"
"The middle one."
He opened it and was welcomed with the sight of several neatly folded nightgowns. He didn't linger too long and grabbed one. When he turned back around Annie was rubbing her eyes.
"Bunny, is it okay if I help you?"
She nodded, "Yes."
He crouched in front of her and carefully unbuckled her heels. He set them neatly beside the bed. Then he removed her pearl necklace and earrings, setting them onto her dresser so she wouldn't miss them.
Elijah stood awkwardly.
"Can I unzip your dress?"
Annie nodded, "You can, but close your eyes."
"Alright."
Annie seemed satisifed as he shut his eyes.
Using only touch, he carefully found the zipper and lowered it.
Annie concentrated very hard on helping herself get out of the dress. Which mostly consisted of getting tangled for a minute.
When they got her party dress off, he helped her get the nightgown over her head. The process took longer than it should have because Annie kept getting distracted.
"You can open 'em now."
Elijah opened his eyes.
Annie was sitting there in her nightgown looking entirely pleased with herself.
He shook his head.
Then helped her get onto the bed properly and underneath the covers. Within seconds, she looked halfway asleep. She let out a sigh as he pulled the blanket even farther up on her.
"Did you have fun today?"
"It was the best. Especially with you here."
Elijah sat beside the bed, "I'm glad."
"Thank you," she smiled sleepily.
"You ain't gotta thank me."
"I do."
Elijah chuckled, "Even drunk you so hardheaded. "
Annie smiled proudly.
A few seconds passed. Then she opened one eye.
"Baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I have a kiss?"
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. When he pulled away she looked absolutely content. Within seconds her eyes drifted closed again.
"Goodnight, Bunny."
"Mhm."
It was barely a response because she was already asleep.
Elijah stood quietly, looked at her one last time, then slipped from the room.
October 31st, 1958
The group of children hurried down the sidewalk with their candy bags bouncing against their legs.
"Thank you, Miss Annie!"
"Happy Halloween, y'all! Be careful going down these streets!"
Annie waved at them until they were out of sight.
The whole neighborhood was alive tonight. Children ran up and down the sidewalks and jack-o'-lanterns glowed from stoops. Somewhere down the street somebody had a radio playing old blues music.
While outside was lively, inside was just as loud. Every few seconds Elijah and Annie heard laughter drift through the open window. It was one of Mama Nette's many card game nights, and everyone was ready to gamble their money. Annie could hear her grandmother cursing someone as the sounds of smacks hit the table.
Elijah sat beside her on the stoop with his elbows rested on his knees as he watched her. Which was something he had been doing all night. And every time Annie turned around she found him looking at her.
"What?"
"Nothin'."
"You keep starin' at me."
"'Cause you pretty," he shrugged.
"Boy," Annie rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious."
Heat crept onto her cheeks anyway. She turned away before he could see how much she liked hearing it.
The candy bowl sat in her lap and she absentmindedly sorted through it while they waited for the next group of trick-or-treaters.
After a few moments Elijah spoke again.
"You really good with kids, you know that?"
"I just really like 'em," Annie looked over and smiled at him.
"I can tell. That's probably what make you such a good teacher, huh?"
Annie looked down at the candy bowl for a moment to think, "Maybe."
"Why'd you wanna become a teacher anyway?"
"I don't know. I think I always liked helping people," she leaned back a bit while fiddling with the candy pieces. "When I was little I thought about being a nurse. But then I thought about all the blood I would have to see."
She immediately made a face while Elijah let out a soft smile.
"I can handle scraped knees and little cuts. But anything else I'd rather not. No, thank you," her eyes passed over the busy street. "Besides, everybody always told me I was good with kids. I guess teaching just made sense. I like watchin' 'em learn things."
"Yeah?"
She nodded, "When they finally understand somethin' they been struggling with, it makes me happy."
Elijah found himself smiling a bit more too. That sounded exactly like Annie. She always found joy in helping somebody else, wanting everyone around to be happy, and giving pieces of herself away. After a few moments he nodded.
"I get it," his eyes drifted to the street with a far away look in his eye. "I always felt like I needed to take of somebody. Growing up it was really just me and Stack. And Stack was always gettin' into somethin'. There wasn't nobody that was gone take care of us. My mama died after she had us and my pops wasn't worth a damn. He did a lotta messed up shit to us. More Stack than me. He drank too much, gambled, and was a mean son of a bitch."
Annie immediately grew quiet. She hadn't known any of this. She knew bits and pieces about Elijah's life, but there were still huge parts of his life that she'd never heard. Like the things that happened before he joined the military.
"He'd always tell us we wasn't men. Which was some funny thing to say to a couple of boys. There were times we ain't know where our next meal was coming from. We were doin' whatever we could to survive. And as we got older it got worse. That's part of why we joined the army. We thought if we learned how to survive nobody could ever make us feel helpless again."
Elijah looked at her. Like really looked at her. The streetlamp illuminated her face, her large round brown eyes glowed with softness. She had compassion and understanding all over her face. Nobody had ever looked at him the way Annie did. Most people were either scared or full of pity knowing their background. But she looked at him as just Elijah.
Then Annie quietly asked, "Did it work?"
Elijah stared at her. The question caught him slightly off guard.
He thought about the nightmares, the injuries, the men he'd lost, and the years he'd spent feeling empty. But the more he thought the more it led him to the present of sitting on this stoop, feeling more at peace than he had in years.
A slow smile appeared, "A little."
Annie smiled back. Then another group of children appeared. She passed out the candy and told the children how cute they looked.
Another group of trick-or-treaters came and went before the conversation picked back up.
Annie settled back into her spot on the stoop, pulling her cardigan a little tighter around herself against the cool October air.
Elijah glanced over at her.
"I know we mentioned it, but you really do want kids?"
"Of course I do."
"I don't know. Some women say they want kids then end up changin' they mind."
Annie shook her head, "No. I defintely want babies. I always thought about being somebody's mama someday."
"And only three?"
"Yes," She huffed dramatically. "My grandmother had six children. I don't think I got six babies in me. Carrying a baby is a lot on the body. Your feet swell, back aches, and you just uncomfortable all the time. Then you gotta push the little sucka out."
"Well, you know twins run in my family," Elijah said it so casually.
Annie slowly turned her head to him, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm just sayin'."
"Sayin' what?"
"What if you have twins," He continued. "What if we have kids and the first time you pop out two babies at once?"
Annie looked at the street like she was genuinely considering it.
"I guess I'd cry."
"Why?"
"Because that's just too much," Annie thought for a second. "But I think I would still want to have another, so maybe four."
"Good."
Annie furrowed her brows and tilted her head.
"You awfully invested in this 'what-if' family."
"'Cause it's my family."
One of Annie's eyebrows slowly lifted.
"And what makes you so sure I'm havin' kids with you?"
Elijah turned to look at her with the driest most unimpressed look on his face. It was so serious it made her laugh. He was looking at her as if she had just asked the dumbest question he'd ever heard.
"Stop playin' with me, Annette."
Annie let out a few more chuckles then leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, baby."
He narrowed his eyes, "You should be."
She laughed again.
A comfortable silence settled between them. The sounds of Halloween filled the silence.
Annie looked out at the glowing jack-o'-lanterns across the street. Then softly said, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
Elijah looked down at her to see a small smile on her face. And despite himself, he smiled too, "Yeah, we will."
The next group of trick-or-treaters came up the walkway before either of them could say anything else. It was a little boy with his younger sister who was too shy to do anything other than hide behind his leg.
"Well look at y'all!"
The boy grinned up at Annie while holding out both of their bags. Annie crouched down and handed them each a handful of candy.
"Y'all be safe now."
The little ghost nodded seriously, "Yes ma'am!"
Annie nearly melted right there on the stoop.
The children hurried away, their parents calling after them from the sidewalk. Once they disappeared down the street, Annie sat back down beside Elijah.
The candy bowl was getting noticeably lighter and the night was growing colder too. Most of the younger kids had started to head home. Soon it would just be teenagers trying to squeeze out a few extra pieces of candy.
"Thanksgiving coming up. You got any plans?"
Elijah glanced over. He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.
"Never really had a reason to. I usually work or stay home."
"On Thanksgiving?" Annie frowned. "You can't do that."
"Why not? Been doing it for years."
"Well not this year. 'Cause you got plans now."
"Oh I do?"
"Yes sir. I'm invitin' you over for Thanksgiving," she looked at him with such seriousness. "We usually go back home, but this year everybody's comin' here."
Elijah was quiet at the statement. He didn't know how to take it. He wasn't necessarily nervous to meet the rest of Annie's family, he just didn't know what to expect.
Annie noticed Elijah's silence, and even though she was used to the quiet from him there seemed to be something else in it. She instantly recgonized what it was.
"You'll be fine, baby. I promise. My family can be a bit opinionated and ask too many questions, but they're good people. And think about it this way, Mama likes you. So they got no choice but to respect that."
"Yeah, we'll see."
Elijah looked back out to the street while trying not to think about all the reasons why Annie's family wouldn't like him.
The Week of Thanksgiving, 1958
Annie had spent the entirety of Tuesday morning being passed between family members. The second she'd walked into Ray's house she'd been grabbed into three different hugs before she'd even gotten through the front door good.
Now she was tucked away in the den with all of her girl cousins.
The television was on low in the background, a baby blanket was spread over one couch, shopping bags in the corner, and half-finished cups of tea on side tables. The room smelled faintly like baby powder and perfume.
Annie sat curled into the corner of one of the larger couches with eight-month-old Olivia balanced happily in her lap.
Olivia tried to reach for Annie's necklace, but she gently caught the baby's hand. Olivia giggled at the face Annie made. The sound made everyone smile.
Rosette, Annie's youngest girl cousin and Olivia's mother, shook her head from her spot across the room, "All these babies love Annie so much, they forget they got a mama."
Olivia immediately proved the point by stretching both arms toward Annie's face and squealed.
Victoria, Annie's oldest girl cousin, looked over from where she was stretched across an armchair, "It's 'cause she spoil 'em."
"I do not," Annie gasped.
"You absolutely do."
Annie rolled her eyes.
Olivia had somehow managed to grab a fistful of her curls. Annie carefully untangled the tiny fingers.
"Y'all are mean."
"No. You just hate us being honest," Victoria smirked.
Annie stuck her tongue out.
Victoria looked at her and shook her head, "Twenty-six years old and still act eight."
Victoria had always been this way with Annie. Being almost five years older than her, Victoria spent most of their childhood watching out for her younger cousin. She always joked about how Annie was her first baby long before she even had jeremy.
Annie learned so many things because of Victoria. She learned how to braid hair, learned how to do her makeup, learned how to drive, and learned what she did know about boys because of her.
Most of the things Annie knew about being a grown woman had come from sitting at Victoria's feet growing up. Which was exactly why she always listened when Victoria spoke.
"Anyways, I heard some things about you, Annette," Rosette's voice was teasing. "Mama Nette told Mama that you seeing somebody. When exactly were you plannin' on tellin' us?"
Annie sighed so dramatically before saying, "I was waiting."
"Waiting for what?" Victoria spoke up.
Annie opened her mouth then immediately closed it because she didn't actually know.
The women laughed at her facial expression. Even Olivia started laughing despite having absolutely no idea what was happening. Annie kissed the baby's chubby cheek.
"So when we meeting him?" Rosette asked.
"Thursday," Annie absentmindedly bounced Olivia.
The room got quieter as every woman exchanged a look.
"On Thanksgiving?" Esther, her cousin William Jr's wife, asked.
"What does 'I guess' mean?" Victoria stared at her.
Annie sighed.
For the next twenty minutes she found herself answering question after question. Like how old was he, what did he do, was. henice, and was he handsome. The women were like sharks who smelled spilled blood.
Eventually Esther tilted her head, ready to ask the question that nobody else seemed to want to ask, "So, have you lost your virginity yet?"
It was quiet except for the sounds of Annie choking. The quietness lingered until Annie finally mumbled, "No."
Victoria spoke in a soft voice, "That's perfectly fine. You do that when you ready, ain't no rush."
Annie relaxed slightly as she stared down at Olivia, "I think...I think I want to."
That surprised even her. The words had come out before she'd really thought about them.
Annie rubbed Olivia's tiny back.
"I don't know," she laughed nervously. "It's weird."
"How?" Rosette asked gently.
"It's likeâŠ" Annie searched for the words. "I feel a way I never felt before. I'm comfortable now, but I still don't know how ready I am."
Rosette smiled.
"Then don't worry about it. When we meet him we'll let you know," Rosette smiled. "We'll figure him out."
Olivia yawned against Annie's chest. She smiled and kissed her forehead.
The rest of the afernoon went on with them all talking and laughing like they normally do when they all got together. Every now and then, one of the children would run into the room to ask a question or because they needed something.
After hours of family time, Annie felt worn out and ready to head home. They all said their brief goodbyes and headed their separate ways.
When Annie got back home, the noise of family didn't settle. In fact it only stayed with her.
Her Aunt Clarisse, Rosette, Olivia, and Rosette's husband Lance, were staying at her home. Though it wasn't that many extra people, Annie and Mama Nette were used to it being just the two of them. Now, the house was filled with constant noise of footsteps and a baby.
Annie stood in the foyer for a second as everyone moved around her. It was then that she decided that she didn't want to be there.
She headed up the stairs to her room. It seemed to be the only place that hadn't been overtaken by family. The silence that followed with the door closing made Annie sigh. She loved her family, but she needed a little break.
Annie walked over to her dresser and started pulling things out like a nightgown, three dresses, her hair scarf, a toothbrush, and a few other things. It was just enough for the night, and maybe another. She shoved it all into a small bag.
She went back downstairs, trying to speed past her nosey family members. But it was just her luck that she ran right into her grandmother. The older woman got one good look at the bag and made a humming sound.
"You not gone be late are you?"
"No ma'am. I promise," Annie kissed her grandmother's cheek.
She gripped her bag tight and headed out the door before anyone else could stop her.
By the time she pulled up to Elijah's apartment building, the sun was starting to set. She headed to the door and knocked only twice. A few seconds later the door opened, and Elijah stood there looking genuinely confused.
"Bunny? What you doing here?"
Annie held up the bag.
"It's too many people at my house and I figured you wouldn't mind me stayin' for a while."
Annie stepped inside as soon as he moved aside.
"No I don't," he said as he shut the door behind her.
Elijah took the bag from her shoulder and carried to the bedroom.
Annie felt herself relax at how quiet the apartment was.
When he came back, she was stretched across his couch with her shoes kicked off and head rested against the cushion. He sat beside her with one arm stretched across the back of the couch. She sat up and scooted as close as possible.
"How's your family doing Bunny? I'm sure you missed them."
Annie started telling him everything about her family. All the old things and the new ones. Like how big the children have gotten, or the new jobs and houses her cousins have, or how her Aunt Clarisse's shop is doing back home.
Every few minutes Elijah would hum, nod, or ask a question, but mostly he listened. Which was one of Annie's favorite things about him. He always listened, and hours later he could repeat the entire conversation back to her.
Eventually Annie's voice softened, and the nonstop faded away. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her. He wrapped an arm around her, thumb gently rubbing her arm.
The rest of the evening passed with the television taking place of their conversation. The apartment had beco e warm and quiet as the hours passed by.
Eventually Annie glanced toward the clock, and realized how late it had gotten.
"It's so late. I need to get ready for bed," Annie stood and smoothed down her skirt. "I'll be right back."
Elijah nodded, "Okay."
She grabbed her bag and disappeared into the bathroom.
The second the door shut she leaned against it and sighed. Her nerves were slowly starting to catch up with her. This was just Elijah. Yet somehow she still felt shy.
Annie took her shower and the warm water helped to ease her mind. After her shower she went through the rest of her routine, brushing her teeth, wrapping her hair, putting on lotion, then changing into her nightgown.
When she left the bathroom, Elijah was standing near the bedroom door digging through his dresser. He looked up when he heard the door open.
His eyes traveled over her for only a second before settling back on her face. Annie looked away as he stared at her. The floor suddenly seemed very interesting.
"You're gorgeous, you know that?"
The compliment sent heat rushing to her cheeks.
"Thank you," her voice came out much smaller than intended.
Elijah crossed the room, reaching her in a few strides. His hands settled against her waist and he shook his head.
"You ain't gotta thank me for tellin' the truth."
The blush on her face only deepened.
"I'm gonna get cleaned up," he kissed her forehead then stepped away.
"O-Okay," Annie nodded.
He disappeared into the bathroom. And a few moments later she heard the shower start.
Annie wandered her way back out to the couch. There was a certain feeling in the apartment now, and she didn't know what to make of it. Her head was spinning with so many things, so when the phone rang, she jumped.
Her eyebrows furrowed trying to place who would be calling Elijah this late. The ringing continued as she glanced toward the bathroom. Finally, she walked over and picked it up.
"Hello?"
There was a brief pause.
"Annie."
Annie blinked, completely taken aback, "Mama?"
Annette Richard's voice came through clear as day.
"Who else gon' be callin' this man's house this time of night?"
"What you doin' callin' over here?"
"I forgot to remind you not to forget about the pies. And you better off makin' 'em over there since the kitchen gon' be packed the next few days. I think two of each should be good enough."
"Yes ma'am."
The bathroom door opened behind her. Annie looked up and immediately forgot whatever her grandmother had been talking about. Every thought in her head completely disappeared.
Elijah had stepped out while brushing his teeth. He had on a pair of dark pajama pants that hung low on his hips, and no shirt, just bare skin.
Despite noticing her staring, Elijah said nothing. Instead he nodded his head toward the phone in question.
"Who that?"
Annie said nothing, just stared.
Elijah frowned, "Bunny?"
Still nothing.
Her grandmother's voice came through the receiver.
"Annette?"
Annie snapped back to reality.
"Huh?"
"You heard me?"
"Yes ma'am."
She absolutely had not been listening.
"You be careful. And come back the same way you left. Understand me?"
"Mama!"
"I love you. Goodnight."
Then the line went dead.
Elijah still stood by the bathroom doorway waiting on an answer.
"Who was on the phone?"
Annie's eyes darted everywhere except toward him.
"Stop lookin' at me," the words came out much harsher than she really wanted them to. t
Elijah's eyebrows shot up in slight shock, "Sorry."
The apology was so quick that Annie instantly felt bad. She rubbed her forehead.
"No, it ain't you, baby," she rubbed her forehead. "It was just my grandmother on the phone. SHe was reminding me about making the pies for Thanksgiving."
Elijah nodded slowly. He was still trying to figure out what had her acting so strange all of a sudden.
Annie looked away again. Her heart was beating entirely too fast. The image of Elijah right in fornt of her was doing nothing good to her mind. She chose to fold her arms.
"I'm just tired, that's all," she took a pause. "I think I'm ready for bed."
Elijah studied her for a long moment. It was long enough that Annie started feeling nervous.
"I don't want you uncomfortable, so you can have the bedroom and I'll just sleep on the couch."
Annie's shoulders relaxed. She was a mix of relieved and guilty.
"You don't gotta do that."
"I don't mind. I want you comfortable."
Annie looked down at her bare feet, focusing on the way the soft cotton of her nightgown brushed against her calves.
"Okay, thank you," she nodded once.
"You're welcome," Elijah simply dipped his head.
Annie faced toward the bedroom ready to escape. She needed space to feel all these feelings she had. She only made it a few steps when fingers lightly wrapped around her arm. She turned around only to find herself standing much closer to Elijah than she had been previously.
A tiny sound escaped her as her eyes widened.
"You was just gonna go to bed? You ain't forgettin' somethin'?" Elijah looked amused.
She swallowed hard.
The man was so close she could smell the soap he used. She could feel the warmth coming off him. Her thoughts were becoming less and less useful by the second.
"Iâ"
Elijah patiently waited with one eyebrow raised.
Annie finally managed a weak, "Goodnight, Elijah."
A 'tsk' sound quickly left out of his mouth, "Bunny. That ain't a real goodnight."
Her face heated up all over again.
He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. As if she was something worth being careful with. And in his eyes she always would be.
Before she could say anything, Elijah's hand slowly came up. His fingers found her chin with a gentle touch as he tilted her face up so she couldn't look at anything but him.
Annie's breath caught in her throat.
He leaned down. His lips met hers softly at first, testing to see how far he could go. The kiss was warm and slow, lips barely pressing. When he realized that she wasn't pulling away, Elijah pressed in deeper. His tongue reached out in question.
Annie hesitated for a split second. Her heart was beating so loud so could've sworn he could hear it. Once she pulled herself together, her lips parted just enough for. his tongue to slid in against hers.
The kiss quickened after that. What had started as something gentle and soft had turned into something that could be named as hunger. Their mouths moved together in a way that made her knees weak.
Elijah's hands went to her waist, then slid slightly lower to the thickness of her hips and pulled her flush against him. She could feel his body heat through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
Annie accidentally moaned into his mouth. The sound was swallowed up by the way he kissed her so completely. Her hands came up to grip the back of his head and pulled him closer. She was desperate to taste more of him, and to feel him.
Elijah grunted in answer. His grip tghtening on her body before his hands roamed her softness like her was trying to memorize every dip and curve.
Eventually he pulled back just enough to break the kiss. His forehead rested against hers for a moment. Then he tilted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, then another just beneath her jaw, then another against the side of her neck.
Annie couldn't help the shiver that ran through her body at the feeling.
Elijah's voice came out rough when he finally spoke against her throat, "I love you, Annie."
Her eyes went wide. This wasn't exactly shocking. She'd known this for a while. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, they way he talked to her. The way he professed himself in front of the schoolhouse. Annie just knew. But still, hearing the words out loud was different. Her chest tightened and her fingers twitched against his scalp.
He gave her one more soft and sweet peck on the lips, then stepped back to give her air.
"Goodnight, Annie," his voice came out low and rough.
Before she could think to say it back, he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead then stepped away.
Annie stood there trying to collect herself.
"Get some sleep," Elijah nodded toward the bedroom. "Get some sleep."
"O-Okay," she nodded.
Annie turned and hurried into the bedroom before she embarrassed herself any further. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving an overwhelming silence.
She climbed beneath the blankets and pulled them all the way up to her chin. Then stared at the ceiling, willing for her eyes to close. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. Yet sleep never came. She rolled onto one side, the other, and then onto her back again.
The room wasn't unfamiliar. She'd spent plenty of time in Elijah's apartment. But tonight everything was different.
Maybe because this was the first time she was spending the night. Maybe because Thanksgiving was so soon and her entire family was waiting to meet him. Or maybe it was the way he felt, shirtless pressed againstâ
Annie buried her face in a pillow, wishing for the thoughts of had happened only moments before fogged up her head.
Because for all her years of saying she wasn't ready, and the confusion, and worrying, and overthinking, she was beginning to realize that she was very very much in love with Elijah Moore.
Annie woke up a tad bit earlier than she normally did. And for a moment she forgot where she was. She stared up at the the unfamiliar ceiling until it all came back to her. She was in Elijah's apartment.
The fact that she had barely slept because her mind would not stop replaying everything from the night before. And thinking about it made her stomach flutter.
After another minute of hiding beneath the covers, she forced herself out of bed. The apartment was quiet as she padded into the bathroom and got ready for the day.
When she finished, she had on one of the dresses she brought and took down her hair. It was a bit chilly, but she didn't mind it.
She moved to the kitchen and immediately go to work. After digging through Elijah's cabinets and refrigerator, she managed to piece something together for breakfast.
Annie hummed under her breath while she worked. She was standing over the stove when she heard heavy footsteps and a yawn behind her.
"Mornin'," his voice was rough with sleep.
Before she could turn around, strong arms wrapped around her waist. A smile spread across her face as Elijah buried his face against the side of her head. His chest was warm against her back. And for every reason, Annie found it all so very distracting.
"Good mornin'," Annie bit her lip.
She turned her head slightly, looking at him over her shoulder clearly waiting.
"You waitin' on somethin'?" A smirk tugged at his mouth.
Annie just quickly lifted her eyebrows up.
He chuckled then leaned down and gave her a good, somewhat quick, peck on the lips. It wasn't quite enough to satisfy her, but it would do for the time being. Especially since Elijah hadn't gotten ready for the day yet.
"What got you up this early?"
Annie turned back toward the stove.
"I don't quite know," Annie turned back to the stove. "I do have to make the pies today."
"Sounds like a lot of work."
"Not really," Annie shrugged.
As she spoke she glanced over her shoulder at him. Her eyes landed on his hair and her brows furrowed. Annie tilted her head.
"When the last time you got your hair done?"
"What's wrong with it?" His hand immediately went to his head.
"Ain't nothin' wrong with it," she laughed.
"You makin' it sound like it is."
"It just needs a little attention is all," Annie smiled at him sweetly. "Maybe you'll let me practice on you. I think it'll look nice."
"I guess I'll let you long as you don't have me out here lookin' crazy."
They talked more while breakfast finished cooking. A few minutes later they were sitting across from each other at the small kitchen table.
Morning sunlight filtered through the windows. The apartment felt cozy and comfortable like they'd been doing this for years.
"We need to do more for that bedroom. It's sad in there."
"Well, it's enough for me," Elijah looked up from his food.
"It ain't for me," Annie pointed her fork at him. "It's only a bed, a dresser, and one picture. That ain't enough. It should feel like more. Don't you like what I did in the living room?"
"I do Bunny."
"So let me do I wat I do. I'll get some nice curtains, a rug, maybe even a chair. It'll look so good when I'm finished."
Elijah shook his head before spooning more food into his mouth, "You can do whatever you want."
A dangerous smile slowly spread across her face.
Breakfast went on with the conversation going from decorations to church to school to Christmas. They had an easy rhythm going that never let up.
When hey finished, Annie stood up ready to get the day going. She had a productive day ahead of her and needed to get an early start.
Elijah disappeared to get dressed while Annie cleaned up the kitchen. It didn't take him long. A few minutes later he reappeared dressed for the day. They gathered their things and headed downstairs.
The morning air was cool. It made Annie tuck her hands into her dress pockets while she waited for Elijah to unlock the car.
Once he got it, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in the car with a smile. He shut the door behind her and headed to the driver's side. The engine was started and the radio played softly.
He drove them to the grocery store, so Annie would be able to pick up the things that she needed. The store was already a bit busy by the time they arrived. The parking lot was half full when Elijah pulled in.
Annie looked around and sighed, "All this last minute shoppin' people doin'."
"And you one of 'em," Elijah grabbed a cart from the front of the store.
"Well, I have a reason."
"Bunny, you coulda brought what you needed over," he pushed the cart toward her.
"Oh, you just shut up."
Elijah simply chuckled at his woman.
The second they stepped inside, Annie moved with a purpose leading them around. The first stop was produce, then dairy, then baking supplies. They eventually had to go back to the produce area because Annie forgot something. The entire trip consisted of Annie bouncing from one aisle to the next while Elijah pushed the growing cart behind her.
Annie not only got the supplies for the pies, she also got some simple things just to have in Elijah's kitchen. She had ingredients for soups, sandwiches, and breakfast items. It was all things she knew were simple enough for him to make.
Eventually they found themselves in the beauty aisle. Annie examined every bottle and jar, deciding to just stick with her tried and true Murray's pomade and Madam C.J. Walker's vegetable shampoo. She also grabbed a comb and some clips.
The trip ended up taking nearly forty-five minutes. By the time they reached the checkout line, the cart was completely full.
Annie reached into her purse for her money as the cashier began totaling everything up on the register. Elijah saw that and became instantly annoyed.
"Bunny."
She ignored him and started to count the bills she pulled out.
Elijah's hand seemed to appear out of nowhere, taking the money out of her hand.
"Give me my money, Elijah."
"No," Elijah pulled his hand away as Annie tried to reach for it. "Bunny, you know you ain't paying for nothin' while I'm standin' right here."
Annie crossed her arms, a slight pout on her face.
Elijah handed her back her money and pulled out his wallet, "Put that damn money away, woman."
The deep warning in his voice left Annie no room to argue. She just sighed dramatically and did as told.
Elijah paid for the items and loaded the bags back into the cart. They headed to the car, put everything in, and headed back to Elijah's.
When they got back to his place, they both carried everything upstairs. The kitchen counters quickly filled with groceries. Annie immediately got to work with organizing it all. She left the pie ingredients and hair care on the counter, but put everything else away in its proper spots.
After everything was properly put away, Annie gathered up the hair products and turned to face Elijah. She had a little smirk on her face.
"Can you go get me a towel please?"
Elijah narrowed his eyes but did as he was told. A few seconds later he came back holding a clean towel over his shoulder.
"Thank you. Now take your shirt off so it doesn't get wet," one of his eyebrows lifted.
The look she gave him afterward made a grin slowly spread across his face.
"ElijahâŠ" Annie immediately rolled her eyes.
"I ain't say nothin'."
Still smiling, Elijah grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
The years of army life and physical labor had done his body good. Even despite the scars that she could see. He was solid with broad shoulders and strong arms. And, sure, he didn't necessarily have to take his shirt off for her to wash his hair, but it seemed after the view last night Annie wanted more.
"Come here," Annie quickly reached for the towel.
She ignored his growing grin, wrapping the towel around his bare shoulders and pushed him toward he sink. The kitchen quickly filled with the sound of running water.
"Bend down for me."
"Yes ma'am," The teasing in his voice made her shake her head.
Elijah bent over the sink while Annie carefully wet his hair. Her fingers moved through the thick curls, making sure every section was soaked.
Annie glanced down when she noticed that Elijah's eyes were closed, "You alright?"
"Yeah, this just feels good."
A smile tugged at her lips. She poured shampoo into her hand and began working it through his hair. Her fingers scratched lightly against his scalp.
Elijah let out a low hum.
Annie continued scrubbing and eventually it was time to rinse the soap away. She wrapped the towel around his head and gently rubbed away the excess water.
"Alright, go sit in. the living room."
"Yes ma'am."
He stood and walked away.
A few minutes later Annie entered the living room carrying the comb, pomade, and clips. He had urned the television on and it was playing with the volume lowered.
Elijah sat on the floor in front of the couch.
Annie settled behind him and pulled him back until he was fit comfortably between her legs. She began combing through his damp hair. The process would take some time and patience because it looked like Elijah did't care to take good care of his hair for awhile.
Annie carefully parted the first section, using a little pomade to help. Then she began braiding. She went slow and steady to get used to it. The first braid came out slightly crooked and thick. It made her frown.
She got back to work and the next braid came out a bit straighter. Her hands were starting to find a rhythm and all the braids were getting better as time went on.
The repetitive motions were gradually lulling Elijah to sleep. Every few minutes his head would dip forward and Annie would gently catch it. Eventually he keptdoing it, so she guided it sideways until it rested against her thigh.
While Annie continued braiding, every so often Elijah absentmindly rubbed her calf where it rested beside him. He even pressed a quick kiss to her leg.
The afternoon slipped by. And before either of them knew it, all eight braids were finished.
Annie sat back to inspect her work.
They weren't perfect by far. A few parts weren't exactly straight. One braid was slightly thicker than the rest. Still she thinks she's proud.
Still, she felt proud.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. The movement startled him awake.
"You're done baby," she smiled.
Elijah blinked several times before slowly standing. He stretched his arms over his head and headed toward the bathroom.
Annie followed behind him nervously.
He stood in front of the mirror examining the braids from every angle. Turning his head left to right.
"What do you think?" Annie folded her arms.
He kept looking. And the longer he stayed silent, the more worried she became.
"It's not good? I can take i down," she sighed.
Elijah looked at her through the mirror. A light smile hit her face.
"Bunny, you did good."
"Really? You ain't just saying that?"
"No I mean it."
He turned his head again and a laugh escaped him this time.
"You know what?" he stared at himself in the mirror. "I really do look like my brother now."
"Not like it's a bad thing, y'all are twins," Annie giggled.
"Naw, it ain't."
He reached for her hand and pulled her closer.
The reflection looking back at them made something warm settle in his chest. Elijah squeezed her hand then lifted it to kiss it.
"I just might have to keep you around, Ms. Richard," he said quietly.
Annie rolled her eyes despite the smile on her face.
"I got work to do," she told him softly.
He leaned down and stole one more quick kiss, "Go on then."
Annie laughed and lightly pushed at his chest. Then turned and headed to the kitchen while Elijah remained standing there watching her go. And truth be told, he liked seeing her take over his space. Whenever she was over, the place always felt less empty.
He leaned against the doorway while Annie got to work. The ingredients covered the counters. She had subtly started to rearragne the kitchen to her liking. She was moving around the area like it was hers alone.
She went from pulling bowls down, to peeling sweet potatoes, to mixing different ingredients together. Elijah stood beside the counter watching her work.
"You need somethin'?" Annie asked without looking up as she rolled out the pie crust.
He watched her hands work and concentration settled across her face. She started to hum as she poured ingredients into the bowl. The apartment was starting to smell better with every minute that went by.
At one point Elijah wandered back into the living room and turned on the television. But ten minutes later he was back in the kitchen.
"Why you come back in here botherin' me?" Annie looked over at him.
"It smell good in here."
"Don't be gettin' in my way, Elijah," she rolled her eyes.
Time went by and the sun had started to set. The apartment was growing darker so Annie switched on the kitchen and continued working.
Annie poured up the pie fillings for all six pies then put three of them into the oven.
It took a few hours, but eventually the pies were finished. She carefully placed all six pies on the counter and stepped back looking on in satisfaction.
Suddenly, a yawn escaped her. The long day was catching up to her and she was noticeably tired now.
Luckily, she had cleaned while she worked so there was nothing she needed to do. She made her way to the bedroom to get ready for bed. She brushed her teeth while Elijah checked the locks on the door.
When she finished, she met back up with him in the small little hallway that led to the bedroom. Elijah leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead.
"Goodnight, Bunny."
"Goodnight, Elijah," Annie smiled softly.
"Sleep good tonight," He brushed his knuckles against her cheek.
"You too."
end notes: ugh i feel like this is nothing but filler, but you know what we're moving along. this chapter is actually two parts. second part coming tomorrow and i mean that fr!
-
-
-
taglist: @shamansha, @rkiiives, @numb1smokeanniestan,@caramelplug @margepimpson @underated345-blog @tnychellee @loveabledovee @kkbeauty86 @syko-jpg @thegreatlibraryofalex @cardi-bre91 @hotebonynearby @shereeluvssinners @transparentphantomface @imqueenmelanin @dollys-world224 @storiesbyasl @blue4everrsworld@katezy2x @og-goddesstrill @cocoagadgetsworld @xeebop @shohimeee @notapradagurl @saralance03 @bad4bey @studentmadeofmelanin @viciously-divine @mmbee675 @luhvelli @wildcardmelaninfreak @lbjgirl2323 @thevelvetwhispers @lizbehave @brownskincheyenne @waitingtobreatheagain @idyllicbarb
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
I know Elijah like to sniff Annieâs bloomers & im sure Elias be sniffing them too when he gets the chance
Lines to a Nasturtium
Flame-flower, Day-torch, Mauna Loa,
I saw a daring bee, today, pause, and soar,
Into your flaming heart;
Then did I hear crisp crinkled laughter
As the furies after tore him apart?
A bird, next, small and humming,
Looked into your startled depths and fled ...
Surely, some dread sight, and dafter
Than human eyes as mine can see,
Set the stricken air waves drumming
In his flightâŠ
A grounding aroma of simmering okra, garlic, and the earthy sweetness of turnip greens filled the atmosphere of the Moore household. Annie moved through the kitchen with grace, her plush figure draped in a soft, cream-colored robe that clung to the generous curves of her hips and the heavy swell of her breasts. She was preparing for her evening bath, her mind drifting toward the quietude of the water.Â
Thatâs when she heard the heavy thud of the front door echoing through the house.Â
She didnât need to look at the clock to know it was Smoke. She could feel him, the way the energy in the room transitioned, a wave of cold, hard steel crashing against the warmth of her sanctuary.Â
When he stepped into the kitchen, he looked like a man who had walked through hell and brought some of the soot back with him. His Gatsby cap was pulled low, shadowing eyes that were vacant and haunted, his jaw set in a line of rigid tension. He didnât speak; Smoke rarely did when the weight of his work was pressing down on his shoulders. He simply stopped in front of her, his presence towering and oppressive, yet desperate.
Annie didnât ask about his day. She didnât ask who he had broken or what he had seen. She simply opened her arms, Smoke collapsing into her, his large frame sinking into the softness of her body. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of magnolia and vanilla that radiated from her dark skin. His arms wrapped around her waist, his large hands squeezing the lush meat of her hip, anchoring himself to the only thing in the world that felt real. Annie let out a soft, humming sound, her arms winding around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the tension of his upper back.Â
âYou home,â she whispered, her voice a velvet balm.Â
He groaned low in his throat, a sound of pure exhaustion, and pulled back just enough to capture her lips in a kiss. It wasnât a gentle kiss; it was hungry and possessives. A silent demand for grounding. He tasted of stale tobacco and something metallic, but Annie met his intensity with a patient, nurturing heat, her full lips molding against his.Â
Slowly, she began to peel the world away from him. Her soft hands reached up to take the cap from his head, setting it aside. His slicked hair came into view, neatly parted and still in place despite the way he was feeling. She slid the heavy wool suit jacket off his shoulder, gunpowder residue clinging tenaciously to the fabric. Then, her fingers moved to the buttons of his dress shirt. One by one, she popped them open, revealing the stark white tank top stretched tight across his massive chest and the hard ridges of his abdomen.
âSit,â Annie commanded gently, guiding him to the heavy oak kitchen table.Â
Smoke obeyed without question, his movements sluggish. He sat, his large hands resting flat on the table, gaze fixed on her with an intensity that bordered on worship.Â
Annie ladled a steaming bowl of gumbo, thick with okra and seafood, and placed a generous slab of golden cornbread and a heap of turnip greens beside it. She didnât leave him to eat; she stayed. As Smoke began to eat, the warmth of the food slowly thawing the ice in his veins, Annie stepped behind him. She placed her palms on his shoulders, her fingers finding the knots of tension that lived permanently in his trapezius muscles. She leaned in, the weight of her breasts pressing against his back, her warmth seeping through the thin cotton of his tank top.Â
She began to massage him, her thumbs digging deep into the muscles, kneading away the violence of the day. Smoke let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping forward as he focused on the taste of her cooking and the feeling of her hands. A dangerous man being brought back to life by the woman who owned his soul.Â
Annie leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. She spoke in a low, melodic whisper, the ancient tones of Yoruba flowing from her, the words a secret language of devotion and healing that only the two of them shared in the sanctity of their home. She pressed a lingering warm kiss to the side of his neck, her lips molding to his skin, leaving a mark of ownership and peace.Â
Annie moved around the table, sliding into the chair beside him. With practiced, nimble fingers, she reached for his tobacco and rolling papers. Smoke watched her in a heavy glazed silence, his gaze tracing the way her breasts swayed beneath her cream-colored robe as she worked. She rolled the cigarettes with precision that was almost meditative, her movements fluid. When she finished, she set the hand-rolled cigarettes on the table and stood, gathering his empty plate.Â
As she moved to the sink to clean the remains of gumbo, Smoke reached for one of the cigarettes, the familiar ritual grounding him. He stood and walked out to the back porch, the screen door clicking shut behind him. The night air was thick and smelling of rich, black earth baked by sun. River water from bayous, creeks, and drainage ditches. Corn, sorghum, and vegetable gardens. Cypress and oak after rain. Mule sweat. And humidity itself.Â
Smoke leaned against the railing, the orange-cherry of his cigarette glowing in the dark. He inhaled deeply, the nicotine mixing with the lingering scent of Annieâs vanilla and magnolia that clung to his skin. He stared out into the blackness of trees, letting the silence of the Delta swallow the noise of the violence he had dealt with earlier. He stayed there until the cigarette was a mere stub, then crushed it out with a slow motion of his thumb.Â
When he stepped back inside, he washed his hands in the basin, grabbed some water from the icebox to wash down his food properly, and headed to their bedroom. Past their bed with an iron frame that produced loud squeaks whenever Smoke pounded into his wife. He removed his shoes, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet.Â
Annie was there, waiting. She had already begun to prepare for her bath, the room warm and humid. She didnât say a word. She could feel the residue of his burdens, the tight coil of stress that still lived in the base of his spine and the hardness in his eyes. She knew the hunger that came with his exhaustionâa need not just for sex, but for the raw, scant-driven surrender that only she could provide.
Her gaze locked onto his, dark and knowing. Slowly, Annie reached beneath the hem of her robe. Her fingers hooked onto the waistband of her cotton bloomers, and with a slow, teasing slide, she stepped out of them.Â
The fabric was damp, clinging to the lush, heavy curves of her thighs and saturated with the concentrated essence of her womanhoodâthe musk of her heat, the sweetness of her skin, and the deep, earthy scent of her arousal.Â
Annie stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving his, and dropped the warm, scented fabric directly into his large, calloused hand. The bloomers felt heavy and humid against his palm.Â
Annie gave him one last, lingering look, then she turned and walked away, leaving him alone.Â
Smoke stood frozen, his chest heaving slowly, his large hand tighter around the fabric. For Smoke, this wasnât just a fetish; it was a grounding ritual. A way to purge the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder that seemed to permanently stain his soul.Â
Slowly, he brought the fabric to his face, closing his eyes as he inhaled the intoxicating, pungent cocktail of her natural musk, the sweetness of her fragrance and the salty, primal scent of her arousal, the only thing capable of truly silencing the noise on his head. He didnât just sniff them; he pressed the fabric deep into his nostrils, molding the cotton against the bridge of his nose and cheeks, sealing himself off from the rest of the world.Â
Smoke took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the scent with a violent intensity. The smell hit him like a physical blow. It was the scent of home, of safety, and of an overwhelming, earthy femininity. It was the smell of Annieâs plush, heavy thighs and the deep hidden folds of her pussy. The aroma was rich and fermented, a heady mix of vanilla, magnolia, and the raw musk-heavy scent of a woman in her prime.Â
As the scent filled his lungs, Smokeâs eyes drifted shut, his heavy lids fluttering. A low, guttural groan vibrated in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated surrender. The tension that had been coiled in his shoulders since dawn finally snapped. The ghosts of the men heâd killed, the screams, the suffocation of the Delta nightâall of it was drowned out by the intoxicating potency of his wife.Â
His body reacted instantly. Beneath his dark slacks, his thick, heavy dick surged to life, straining against the fabric. It throbbed with a demanding pulse, the head of his dick curving to the right, pressing hard against his thigh. He could feel the pre-cum leaking, wetting his underwear as his mind conjured the image of Annieâs full-bodied plushness, the way her heavy breasts would sway and how her wide, lush lips would feel beneath his palms.Â
Smoke repositioned his grip, rubbing the fabric of the bloomers against his lips, tasting the faint, salty residue of her sweat and heat. He inhaled again, deeper this time, pulling the scent into the very depths of his chest until he felt lightheaded. The musk acted like a drug, stripping away his discipline, leaving only the raw, possessive hunger of a man who belonged entirely to the woman who wore these clothes.Â
Smoke pressed the cotton harder against his face, breathing becoming ragged and shallow. He imagined he could feel her presence in the fabricâthe warmth of her skin, the softness of her curves. He was anchored now, pulled back from the edge of the darkness by the scent of her womanhood.Â
Smoke stood there lost in the sensory overload. His large frame trembled slightly. He was a deadly man, a killer feared by many, but in the solitude of this room, clutching a piece of damp cotton, he was nothing more than a devotee at an altar, completely consumed by the scent of the woman who had held his heart and his sanity in her hands.Â
Annie stood by the edge of the clawfoot tub, the steam beginning to curl around her ankles, leaving her completely exposed in the dim lighting of the bathroom. She was a masterpiece of abundance, a landscape of deep, ebony skin that flowed with a soft, natural luster. Her breasts weâre heavy and lush, hanging with a natural, weighted grace, the dark wide areolas peaking through the mist. Her waist dipped inward, creating a dramatic curve that led to the magnificent expanse of her hipsâwide, fertile, and sweeping. Her belly was soft, a gentle rounded swell that spoke of warmth and nourishment, leading down to a thick, neatly groomed mound of curls that guarded her honeyed heat. Her thighs were pillars of plushness, rubbing together with every slight movement of weight, and her rear was a heavy, rounded bounty that seemed to defy gravity, shaking slightly with the motion of her hips.
Just as she prepared to step into the water, the door creaked open. Smoke stood there, his silhouette filling the frame, his presence instantly sucking the air out of the room. His eyesâdark and predatoryâswept over her nakedness with a hunger that was almost violent. His gaze locked onto hers, his face a mask of hard, disciplined desire.Â
âDonât wash yet.â He commanded.
His voice wasnât a request; it was a low, guttural vibration that seemed to echo in the very marrow of her bones. It was primal, stripped of all civility, carrying the weight of a man who spent the day dealing in death and now craved the only thing that could bring him back to life. The sheer dominance in his tone sent a jolt of electricity straight to Annieâs core, making her clit twitch and jump against her thighs, a sudden, wet pulse of arousal that left her breathless.Â
âGet back in this room.â Smoke commandedÂ
âWhy?â Annie questioned, although she knew why. Like she didnât just hand over her draws soaked in her pussy.Â
âCause I said so.â Smoke replied with finality.Â
Without a word, Annie obeyed. The submission was instinctive, a response to the raw power radiating off him. She turned and walked back into the bedroom, her heavy hips swaying, her plush thighs brushing together with a soft shuck-shuck sound. When she reached the vanity, she gripped the polished wood and leaned forward, bending deep at the waist. She poked her ass out, offering herself to him, her massive, rounded cheeks framing the hidden entrance to her heat.Â
Smoke approached her slowly, his feet silent on the floorboards. He didnât touch her at first, he simply stood behind her, his predatory gaze devouring the sight of her bent-over posture. He could see the way her skin stretched over the fullness of her rear, the deep dimples at the base of her spine.Â
He reached out, his hands spanning the width of her cheeks. He began to stroke her, his palms sliding over the velvet softness of their skin, kneading the heavy flesh of her ass with a possessive grip. Then, with a sudden, firm movement, he hooked his fingers into the crease of her thighs and pulled her cheeks apart.Â
The sound was visceralâa wet, tacky schlick as the suction of her plush cheeks broke, the skin peeling away from itself with a moist sliding noise.Â
As Smoke pulled her open, the view was breathtaking. The stark contrast of his rough fingers against her glowing skin highlighted the vulnerability and the invitation. Her pussy was revealed in all its glory. A plump, swollen slot of deep pink and mauve, glistening with a thick layer of translucent arousal. The outer lips were heavy and lush, pushed aside to reveal the tight, pulsing opening of her canal and the hooded, engorged pearl of her clit, which was weeping with desire.Â
Smoke sank to his knees with a heavy thud, his breath hitching. From this angle, he was staring directly into the heart of her. He was blown away by the sightâthe sheer, fertile abundance of her, the scent of her musk hitting him in a concentrated wave, mixing with the smell of the room. He looked at the way her heavy thighs trembled and how her pussy pulsed in time with her heartbeat, a raw, opening invitation that promised total consumption. Smoke stayed there for a moment, frozen in awe, a predator captivated by the absolute beauty of his prey.Â
âLines to a Nasturtium.â Smoke whispered, breathy and full of desire.
Up close, the sight was hypnotic. Smoke watched with a predatory intensity as her clit, a swollen, engorged m pearl of deep mauve began to twitch. It was a frantic, involuntary pulsing, jumping against the hood of her pussy as it sought a friction that wasnât there yet. The sheer anticipation of his presence, the raw dominance of his command, had pushed her body into a state of desperate readiness.Â
Below the twitchy pearl, her creamy canal was reacting in kind. Smoke could see the plush walls of her opening clenching and releasing, a hungry contraction that gripped at the empty air. Her pussy was breathing, the tight ring of muscle pulsing in a desperate attempt to pull him inside, the walls sliding against one another in a wet, sliding motion that produced a faint, squelching sound.Â
The longer he stared, the more her body surrendered to him. The arousal became a flood. A thick, translucent trail of clear cream began to seep from her depths, glistening under the light. It pooled momentarily on her labia before gravity took hold and a single, heavy drop of nectar began to slide slowly down the curve of her clit, tracing a shimmering path toward the floor. Smokeâs dark eyes followed the drip with a focused, singular intensity, his pupils blown wide, tracking every millimeter of its descent as if it were the only thing that existed in the world.Â
Smoke leaned in closer, his face just inches away from her. The scent of herâthat heady, musk-heavy aroma of a woman in peak arousalâbit him like a physical blow, making his thick dick throb violently against the fabric of his slacks. Smoke didnât touch her yet because he wanted her to ache. He wanted her to feel the void where he should be.Â
Annieâs palms were pressed flat against the cool wood, her spine arching beautifully. The position thrust her wide, plush hips back, offering her full, rounded ass and plump pussy to him like a feast. The deep dark crease where her cheeks parted. Swollen pussy lips just between them.Â
He leaned forward, his warm breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh, sending a fresh wave of shivers through her plush thighs. His tongue caught the dripping trail as it spilled like warm honey. He savored the flavor on his tongue before licking his lips. When he spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to hum directly onto her clit.Â
âIâm a lick every bit of this sweetnessâŠâ Smoke rumbled, his voice a low, a deep vibration. âBury my tongue deep in ya and lap you clean âtil you screaminâ my name.âÂ
Without waiting for a word, Smoke pressed his face flush against her, his tongue sweeping in one long, wet stroke from her opening all the way down to her clit just hanging there begging for attention.Â
Annie let out a sharp, strangled gasp, her fingers clawing at the vanity as her back arched further. The sound of it, the wet slapping noise of his tongue meeting her drenched folds filled the space.Â
Smoke groaned deep in his chest, the sound primal and hungry. He began to lap at her greedily, his tongue broad and rough, mimicking the motion of a dick. He focused on her clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud before sucking it firmly into his mouth.Â
Annieâs legs trembled, her knees nearly buckling as she let out a loud, guttural moan. She was soaking him now, her juices coating his lips and chin, but he ainât give a fuck. He wanted every drop. Smoke pushed two fingers deep inside her, feeling the tight, hot walls of her pussy clamp down on him in a frantic, come-hither motion like he was exercising his trigger finger, all while his tongue continued to punish her clit with relentless pressure.Â
Smoke was possessed. Driven by a primal hunger that had been simmering since he first pressed her scent-soaked bloomers to his face. The smell of herâthat heavy, musk-laden sweetnessâhad snapped something inside him, and now he was taking it out on her pussy with a predatory vigor. He didnât just lick her; he devoured her. With Annie bent over the vanity, her plush cheeks spread wide by his bruising grip, Smoke buried his face deep into her flower. He was eating her like a starving man, his thick tongue working with a relentless force that left no inch of her untouched.Â
Smoke started at her clit, his broad tongue sweeping upward in long, wet strokes that slurped up every drop of her arousal. The sound was visceralâa loud, wet, lapping noise, the sound of his lips slurping her open. Smoke was sucking her pussy clean, lips sealed tight around her swollen folds, pulling the sensitive flesh into his mouth and creating a suction that made Annieâs entire body shudder.Â
âGoddamn, you taste like heavenâŠâ Smoke growled against her skin, his voice a vibration she felt deep in her womb. âIâm a drink every last drop of you, Annie. Every single fuckinâ bit.âÂ
Smoke shifted his focus, his tongue becoming a weapon of ruin. He began to lap at her clit with a frantic, greedy energy, swirling around the engorged bud before sucking it deep into his mouth. Smoke slurped at her, his tongue flicking rapidly, wet, tongue thrashing sounds mixed with her arousal, driving her higher and higher. He was trying to clean her out, his mouth working tirelessly to lap up the thick, creamy juices that were flooding from her.Â
Annie was a mess, her fingers digging into the wood of the vanity, her head hanging low as she let out uncontrolled moans. Every time he sucked her in, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her spine, her wide hips bucking against his face.
Smoke pushed his face harder against her, his nose pressing right up against her rear entrance, inhaling her intoxicating scent while his tongueâdripping with so much saliva it clung to his goateeâcontinued to punish her, the wet sounds of his gluttony filling the airâslurp, lap, suckâas he worked his way from her clit up to the very entrance of her canal, licking her clean with a possessive, ritualistic gusto. He wanted her tasted, drained, and completely claimed. He used his thick tongue to probe the opening of her pussy, licking deep inside, tasting the salt and sweetness. He was eating her with a desperation that bordered on violence.Â
When that thick, wet muscle slapped against her clit and slurped at her opening with a primal greed Annie was seeing stars.Â
The world had shrunk down to the sensation of Smokeâs mouth devouring her. She had been rendered speechless for several long minutes, her breath hitching in jagged gasps, her mind a blur of white heat. But as he continued to suck herâpulling her folds deep into his mouth and creating a seal that felt like it was drawing the very soul out of herâshe finally broke.
âSmokeâŠoh, SmokeâŠpleaseâŠâ she whimpered, her voice shaky and thin.Â
She didnât know what to do with herself. Her hands, which had been gripping the vanity, began to claw at the wood, then wandered blindly, one hand reaching back to clutch at his head, the other pressing flat against the mirror, leaving a smear of sweat and her fingerprints. She was completely at his mercy, her heavy breasts swinging beneath her, rounded belly trembling with every sound she made.Â
Smoke didnât answer with words. He answered with a deep, vibrating hum that echoed through her entire pelvic floor, a low grunt of satisfaction that vibrated against her clit. He was eating her like she was the only thing keeping him alive, his nose buried in her musk, his tongue flicking with a frantic expert precision that drove her toward the edge.Â
The sensation became too muchâa tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over her. As the first spasm of her orgasm hit, Annieâs head snapped back, her eyes rolling. In the height of her release, she gasped out a phrase in Yoruba, her voice a melodic, breathless moan.Â
"OlĂșwa, mo n'ĂyĂŹn ráșč...má»Ì má»Ì mi..."
The words were a prayer and a plea. A surrender to the raw power of the man between her thighs. Her plush body began to shake violently, her wide hips bucking uncontrollably against his face. Her pussy clamped down hard on his tongue, pulsing in thick waves, flooding his mouth with a fresh surge of creamy, hot arousal.
Smoke didnât give her a second to breathe. As she came, he doubled down, sucking her clit, slurping up the overflow of her climax with a greedy, wet sound. He grunted into her, his face drenched in her juices, his tongue continuing to lap and probe her twitching twat even as she shuddered. He wanted to feel every single contraction, wanted to taste the very peak of her pleasure, refusing to stop until he had drained her completely.Â
Smoke finally eased back. He stood at his full, imposing height, his chest heaving slightly, dark eyes clouded with lust. Annie turned and leaned against the vanity, her legs trembling, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches as she tried to gather the shattered pieces of her composure. She was drenched, her own juices and Smokeâs saliva slicking her thighs.Â
Annie watched, mesmerized and breathless, as Smoke reached up and gripped the hem of his tank top, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric clung to his sweatâslicked skin before falling to the floor, revealing the raw power of his torsoâbroad shoulders, a hard, carved chest, and abdominal muscles that rippled with every breath. Smoke shrugged off his pants and underwear with a disciplined efficiency, letting them drop.
Annieâs eyes widened, her throat going dry. There it wasâhis massive, thick dick, fully erect and pulsing with a heavy vein wrapped around the shaft. It was a formidable piece of meat, long and heavy, with a distinct aggressive right hook that curved slightly at the top, promising to hit every sensitive spot deep inside her. It stood proud and rigid, a dark, swollen pillar of desire that made her pussy react with a sudden, renewed emptiness.Â
Smoke stepped forward, no words said. He reached out and gripped her hips, his large hands nearly meeting around her waist with a sudden, commanding strength. Smoke didnât give her time to adjust. He hooked his arms under her plush thighs, muscles digging into the plush flesh, and hoisted her up, lifting her heavy ass off the vanity.Â
Annie gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back to keep herself anchored to him. Smoke slammed one of his palms down onto the vanity, gripping the edge of the wood so hard his knuckles bulged, anchoring them both.Â
Then, he drove into her.Â
Smoke didnât ease in. He aligned that right-curving head with her opening and buried himself deep inside her in one brutal, thumping stroke. The impact was seismic. Annieâs head snapped back, a loud moan escaping her as her tight walls were stretched to their absolute limit by his girth. He buried himself to the hilt, his balls slapping hard against her against the cuff of her cheeks that spilled over the edge of the vanity.Â
Smoke began to move, delivering relentless, thumping strokes that were more like beating down than lovemaking. Each thrust was deep and punishing, the curve of his dick hooking and grinding directly against her G-spot with every plunge. The force of his movements was so powerful that Annieâs plush body was damn near bouncing off of him, her heavy breasts swaying wildly, soft belly slapping against his hard abs with a wet sound.Â
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
A raw, carnal percussion.Â
Annie was rendered completely speechless, her mouth hanging open, her breath hitching in her throat. She couldnât find the words. Couldnât even scream. She could only cling to him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back.Â
Through it all, Smoke never looked away. He kept his gaze locked onto hers, his dark eyes boring deep into her soul. There was no softness in his expression, only a fierce, possessive intensity. He watched her face as he fucked her, watching her eyes glaze over and her lips tremble, savoring the way she broke under the weight of his masculinity. He was claiming her, marking her from the inside out, his silence more commanding than any word he could have spoken.Â
He didnât let up for a second.
His grip on her thighs tightened as he grounded his weight, folding Annieâs plush body even further. He pressed her back against the mirror of the vanity, her spine arching as he tucked her legs deeper over his muscular arms. Her feet dangled in the air, bouncing helplessly with every thumping drive of his hips. The impact was delivered with ferocity, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against her like a wet drum.Â
Annie was lost in it, her head tossing from side to side, her voice breaking as she cried out his given name.Â
âElijahâŠooh, Elijah!â Annie wailed, the sound raw. She rarely called him that, but in the heat of this collision, she needed the man. Not the ghost. Not the enforcer. Her Elijah.
 As she looked up at him, her vision blurred with pleasure, she saw the evidence of his hunger. Her own thick, sweet cream was smeared across his dark mustache and glistening on his full lips, a messy trophy of how he had just spent the last thirty minutes eating her out. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the iris, leaving only two dark, predatory voids that stared into her with an intensity that made her feel like she was being consumed. Inside her, his dick felt like a rod of heated iron, so stiff and thick that it stretched her walls to the breaking point.Â
Mid-thrust, as Smoke drove himself deep, burning his length to the hilt, Annieâs hand shot out. Her fingers brushed the surface of the vanity, snagging the lace of her discarded bloomers. She gripped the fabric tight, pulling the scent-soaked garment toward him jus tax he lunged forward again.Â
She pressed the damp cotton directly against Smokeâs nose and mouth, muffling his heavy breathing with the concentrated scent of her own arousal.Â
Smoke froze for a split second, the sudden olfactory attack hitting him like a physical blow. The smell of her filled his lungs. It was the scent of his woman, his home, and his obsession. A low, growl ripped from his throat, vibrating against the fabric.Â
The scent triggered something feral in him. His eyes darkened even further, and he stopped the thumping, instead grinding his hips in a slow, agonizing circle, twisting that curved head deep inside her at all angles. Smoke inhaled sharply through the fabric, sucking in the essence of her while he stared down, his nostrils flaring.Â
âYou tryna drive me crazy, Annie?â Smoke rasped, his voice a deep, shaky rasp.
Smoke grunted, bit down on the bloomers, holding the fabric between his teeth, saliva dampening the fabric further and returned to the brutal pace. His strokes becoming even more forceful. He fucked Annie with a renewed, desperate hunger, his body slamming into her plush curves with a force that threatened to knock the vanity over, claiming every inch of her as he chased the edge of his own release.Â
âFuck me, daddy.â Annie moaned, gripping his sweaty biceps.Â
Smokeâs pace didnât slow. If anything, the scent of her on his breath and in his nose had pushed him into a state of pure, focused aggression. He was hammering into her, thick, right-curving dick grinding non-stop over her G-spot with a wet thud that shook the vanity. Annieâs breath was coming in jagged, shallow hitches, her fingers digging into his arms.Â
âGet, it, daddy. Get it. Fuck yaâ wifeâs pussy. This Smokeâs pussyâahhh!â Annie gasped. âTire ni, tire ni, tire ni baba.âÂ
She could feel it building. A tight electric coil winding up inside her belly, radiating down into her drenched pussy. Every time he bottomed out, her internal muscles clamped tight around him, miking him instinctively. Her voice began to tremble, the words shaking as the pleasure reached a fever pitch.Â
âElijahâŠIâmâŠIâm gonnaâŠâ Annie gasped, her voice wavering, thin and needy. âIâm âbout to break, babyâŠIâm cominââŠâ
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.Â
Smoke let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He leaned in, his chest crushing her plush breasts, his lips grazing the shell of her.Â
He let her draws fall from his mouth.
âThen break for me, baby,â Smoke rasped, his voice a dark, commanding rumble. âGive it all to me, let me feel every bit of it on my dick.âÂ
âSweet Jesus, please!â Annie wailed, her voice shaking violently. âRight thereâŠjust like thatâŠoh, baby!âÂ
Smoke groaned. He repositioned his angle, driving his hips forward with a grinding force that pinned her further against the glass.Â
Thwackthwackthwackthwackâ
âYou feel how that pussy hug on my dick?â Smoke grunted, his breath heavy against her neck. âYou fuckinâ drenched, woman. Squeezinâ me like you never want me to jump out this pussyââÂ
âI donât!â Annie cried out, her voice cracking. âI want youâŠI want you deepâŠright on that spot!âÂ
âIâm right here,â Smoke growled, his pace becoming a blur of friction and deep-seeded desire. âI ainât goinâ nowhere. Now cum for your man. Cum on this dick, Annie. Let it go.âÂ
The command was the final trigger. Annieâs body stiffened, her toes curling as a violent wave of orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy walls began to spasm, clamping down on his thick shaft in punishing pulses. Annnir let out a long, shaky moan, her voice trembling with the power of her explosive orgasm, her entire frame shuddering against him.Â
ThwackthwackthwackâŠthwack. Thwack. THWACKâ
Smoke let out a loud, triumphant roar, his own control snapping. He leaned back, grabbed two fistfuls of her heavy breasts, and drove himself in one last time, burning his length to the absolute hilt, his balls slapping hard against her as he began to unload. Smoke groaned, a deep, primal sound of surrender as he pumped thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside her, filling her to the brim while she continued to shake and sob beneath him, completely undone by his strength.Â
It wasnât just hot.
 it was a wet, clinging weight that soaked through cotton shirts in minutes, making clothes stick to skin like a second, suffocating layer. The Mississippi sun was hateful this particular early evening, beating down on the dusty crossroads outside of Clarksdale until the red earth cracked and the horizon shimmered with a dizzying mirage. The only sound that dared to break the oppressive silence was the relentless, screaming drone of cicadas, a noise that felt like it was drilling straight into the skull. Horse flies flew too close because of the donkeys that wandered. Mosquitos feasted happily on any inch of exposed skin it could find.Â
Smoke stood by the rusted fender of a Ford Model A, his frame a hard, unyielding silhouette against the bleached-out landscape. He was dressed for business, despite the weather. He wore dark slacks held up by heavy leather suspenders, a wool coat draped over his broad shoulders that he refused to shed, and his cap pulled low, casting a deep shadow over his eyes. His face was a mask of neutral stone, but beneath the surface, he was vibrating.Â
In the back of the truck, crates of corn liquor were piled high, hidden under coarse, grit-covered burlap. Gasoline and stale, sharp whiskey wafted up, mixing with the smell of hot dust and the metallic tang of the gun oil on his fingertips. The drivers from the north were jittery, their eyes darting toward the road every time a bird over, terrified of a federal raid or a knife in the back.Â
Smokeâs jaw was clamped so tight it ached. He didnât like the way this deal was dragging. He didnât like the nervous sweat on the driversâ brows of the way the wind carried the faint, distant sound of a dog barking. Or even how the few bushes across from them moved in a particular direction. Every second they sat exposed at the crossroads was a second too long. The law or the klanâno differenceâthe pressure was building in his chest, a primal, violent urge to just start shooting until the silence returned.Â
Smoke needed to ground himself before he snapped and painted the red dirt with someoneâs brains.Â
Without a word to the men, Smoke stepped away from the truck, his leather ankle boots crunching on the dry earth. Smoke retreated into the shade of a sprawling cypress tree, its limbs draped in ghostly curtains of Spanish moss that swayed in a breeze that offered no coolness. The shade was dim and damp, smelling of rotting vegetation and ancient water.Â
He reached into the inner pocket of his wool coat, his gloved fingers brushing against a piece of soft, white cotton. Smoke pulled it out. It was the bloomers Annie had worn the night heâd claimed her on the vanity, the fabric still holding the ghost of her shape.
 Smoke closed his eyes and pressed the cotton hard against his face, burying his nose in the fabric. He inhaled with a sharp, greedy lungful, hunting for her.Â
There it was.
The concentrated, raw musk of her. The salty, pungent tang of her pussy. The deep earthy scent of the root herbs she worked with and the underlying sweetness that belonged only to his Annie. It was a scent of warmth, of plush skin and hidden depths. A stark contrast to the grit of the Delta.Â
As he breathed her in, the tension in his shoulders dropped an inch, and the red haze in his vision cleared. Smoke clung to the fabric, his nostrils flaring, feeding on the essence of his wife to keep the monster in his blood at bay. The scent of Annieâs pussy was the only thing that kept him sane.
The spell was broken by the sharp, clack-clack-clack of polished oxfords hitting the hard-packed dirt. Smoke didnât jump, he wasnât the type to startle, but his hand snapped shut over the white cotton, shoving the bloomers back into his coat pocket in one fluid, violent motion. Smoke stepped out from the cypress shade, his face returning to that impenetrable slab of granite, just as a flash of cream-colored linen emerged from the heat haze.
Stack strolled toward them, looking like heâd just stepped off a street corner in Chicago rather than a dusty road in the Delta. He wore a tailored three-piece suit of pale cream that defied the grime of the crossroads, a silk tie the color of bruised plum knotted perfectly at his throat. A gold pocket watch chain looped across his vest, glinting aggressively under the harsh sun. He walked with a loose, swinging gait, a smirk playing on his full lips, his fedora tilted at a rakish angle that screamed confidence.Â
âLawd have mercy, Smoke,â Stack called out, his voice a smooth, honeyed drawl that vibrated with amusement. âYou look like you fixinâ to bury a body or start another war. Why you standinâ in the shade lookinâ all moody? You gonâ let the heat rot yaâ brain.âÂ
Smoke just stared, his deep brown eyes tracking his brotherâs every movement. The two of them stood there, identical mirrors of the same blood and bone but where Smoke was a closed fist, Stack was an open hand, ready to steal whatever wasnât nailed down.Â
Stack stopped a few feet away, smelling like expensive cologne and imported tobacco, clashing with the smell of corn liquor and horse manure in the background. Stack leaned back, hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets, his gaze drifting from Smokeâs rigid posture to the sight.
A tell-tale bulge in the inner pocket of Smokeâs coat.Â
Stackâs eyes sharpened. He knew that look. He knew the way Smokeâs nostrils flared when he was trying to hold onto something that didnât belong to the world around them.
âYou got a little secret tucked away in that coat, donât you?â Stack teased, his voice dropping closer, invading Smokeâs personal space with a playful boldness. âSumâ sweet. Sumâ that smell like home and magnolia. You lookinâ all stressed out, but I reckon you found a way to keep your temper from boilinâ over.âÂ
Smokeâs jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek.Â
âGet yaâ head right, Stack. We got a shipment to move.âÂ
Stack laughed, a bright melodic sound that felt out of place in the oppressive silence of the crossroads. He reached out, his fingers grazing the lapel of Smokeâs coat, a daring, risky move that would have gotten any other manâs arm snapped.Â
âIâm just sayinâ, brotherâŠyou holdinâ onto that scent like a dyinâ man hold a prayer,â Stack whispered, his eyes dancing with a forbidden curiosity. âMake a man wonder just how sweet Annieâs been lately. Make me wonder if she still wearinâ them little lace things that make her hips look like a damn miracle.âÂ
Smokeâs hand twitched toward the grip of the pistol at his hip, his gaze darkening into something predatory. The brotherly bond was there, but beneath it lay a jagged edge of possession and rivalry. Stack didnât flinch, he simply grinned wider, his eyes locked on Smokeâs, savoring the danger. He loved pushing Smoke. Loved seeing the disciplined enforcer struggle to keep the beast on a leash.Â
âMove the crates, nigga.â Smoke commanded, his voice a low, guttural warning.
Stack winked, stepping back with a flourish of his linen jacket.
âWhatever you say, Big Brother. Iâll handle the drivers. They shakinâ like leaves in a storm and Iâm just the man to charm âem into movinâ faster.âÂ
As Stack turned to lean the jittery men back to the Ford, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. He didnât see the bloomers, but he could practically smell the musk of Annie clinging to Smokeâs clothes. A hunger ignited in Stackâs gut. Not just for women, but the thrill of taking something that belonged solely to the most dangerous man in the county.Â
The shipment was handled with frantic energy that only comes from men who know the lawâor worse the mobâis breathing down their necks. Stack spent the next hour orchestrating the chaos, his voice cutting through the humidity like a whip, directing the drivers and the muscle with a practiced, theatrical flair. He looked every bit the pretty gangster, leaning against the fender of a black Model A, flicking ash from a gold-tipped cigarette while his eyes never truly left his brother.Â
Smoke was a ghost in the midday sauna, moving between the crates with a heavy, focused routine. He pointed, shoved, and stared. But Stack noticed the way Smokeâs hand stayed glued to the pocket of his coat, his fingers that were once gloved twitching against the fabric. It was a tell. Smoke was anchored to something, tethered to a scent and a memory that made him dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with the pistol on his hip.Â
Once the last crate was loaded and the dust from the departing cars settled back into the red Mississippi clay, the stillness of the crossroads beat down on the twins. Stack watched Smoke wipe grime from his forehead with a handkerchief, the muscles in his broad shoulders bunching under his coat.Â
Heâs starving for her, Stack thought, a sudden, sharp hunger clawing at his own gut.Â
It wasnât just about the woman. It was the possession of her.Â
Stack had always been the one to charm the gals in juke joints, rent parties, dance halls, and Chicago clubs alike. The one who could slide into a bed and out of it before the sun rose, leaving nothing but a scent of expensive cologne and a broken heart.Â
But AnnieâŠAnnie was different. She wasnât a gal; she was a force. He remembered the way she looked the last time heâd seen her, that midnight-brown skin glowing, her hips swaying under a heavy cotton skirt, the sheer, plush weight of her body promising a blaze no city girl could mimic.Â
Stack pushed off the car, his polished oxfords crunching on the gravel. He walked toward Smoke, his gait loose and predatory.Â
âYou practically vibrating, Smoke,â Stack drawled, his voice a low, teasing vibration. âI can see it in your eyes. You ainât thinkinâ âbout the money or the liquor. You thinkinâ âbout gettinâ home to that woman. Thinkinâ âbout how she feel when she pressed up against you. All softâŠheavy skinâŠâ
Smoke stopped dead, his gaze snapping to Stack. The look was murderous, a warning that the leash was fraying.Â
âShut yaâ fuckinâ mouth âbout my woman, Stack. I swear toâ god thatâs my last time warninâ yaâ.âÂ
Stack didnât shut it. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes dancing. âI bet she smell like heaven and earth all at once. I bet she got that musk on her now that get in a manâs blood and stays there. I can smell it on yaâ, brother. You drenched in her.âÂ
The admission sent a jolt of electricity through Stackâs spine. He imagined Annie in the house, perhaps stripped down to her shift in the midday heat, her large breasts straining against the fabric, thick thighs running together as she moved through the kitchen. He imagined the scent of herâthat floral, herbal musk with the raw, salty tang of a womanâs sultriness.Â
The thought made Stackâs own dick stir. A thick, heavy pressure building behind the fly of his cream-colored trousers. His dick, curving to the left, throbbed against the fabric, demanding release. He wanted to know if she tasted as rich as she looked. He wanted to know if her pussy was as plush and tight as the rest of her body suggested.Â
âYou outta line,â Smoke grunted, his voice a guttural warning. He stepped forward, his massive frame looming over Stack even though they were the same height. âYou gonâ earn a spot next to our daddy if you keep talkinâ slick âbout Annie.âÂ
Stack just grinned, the expression sharp and hungry. He didnât fear his brother, not technically, he thrived on the friction. He loved the idea that they shared everything. The same face, the same blood, the same hunger translated differently. If Smoke could have her, if Smoke could keep a piece of her tucked in his pocket to sniff like a gahdamn dog, then Stack wanted a taste. He wanted to steal a moment, a scent, a touch. He wanted to see the look on Smokeâs face when he realized that some things were too delicious to be kept by one man alone.Â
âIâm just appreciatinâ the finer things, Smoke,â Stack whispered, his eyes flashing. âAnd AnnieâŠshe the finest thing in this whole damn state. Hell, this whole damn South. Ainât no woman touchinâ Antoinette. Just givinâ my sis in law her praises, Big Brother. After allâŠIâm the least of yaâ worries. Heard some niggas in town talkinâ bout her.âÂ
Smoke grit his teeth. Jaw working.
âWhat they sayinâ? Sum thatâs gonâ get âem bumped off ainât it?âÂ
Stack took a hit of his gold-tipped cigarette before passing it to Smoke. âFed to the eagles.âÂ
Smoke clocked it. Filed it away. He walked off, his stride heavy and possessive.Â
Stack followed a few paces behind, his mind racing, the seed of a dangerous desire now fully planted. He wasnât just looking for a thrill anymore; he was hunting. He wanted those bloomers. He wanted the scent of her arousal. He wanted to slide his hand where Smokeâs had been, to feel the weight of her hips and the heat of her skin, and to do it all while the most dangerous man in Mississippi was just within earshot.Â
The black Model A roared, kicking up a violent cloud of red dust that coated the roadside weeds in a fine, rust-colored powder. Stack sat behind the wheel, one hand draped casually over the top of the steering wheel, his gold rings glinting in the harsh Mississippi sun. He looked every bit of city slicker, his silk shirt open at the collar to let the breeze hit his chest. He glanced over at Smoke, who sat rigid in the passenger seat. Smoke was a statue of tension, his jaw locked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as if he could force the car to move faster through sheer will.Â
âIâm tellinâ you, Smoke, I gotta stop at that stand up ahead,â Stack drawled, his voice smooth as bourbon. âI got a hankerinâ for some tamales. Real ones. Those things they try to sell up in Chicago? Pure cardboard. Ainât nothinâ like the taste of home to settle a manâs nerves.â
Smoke didnât even turn his head. His voice came out as a low guttural rasp, stripped of any patience. âAnnieâs got. Pot of greens and corn pone on the stove. You can eat at the house.âÂ
Stack let out a short, sharp laugh, a glint in his eyes. He shifted gears, the engine whining as he pushed the car harder. He could feel the heat radiating off his brother. The raw, pulsing desperation. Smoke wasnât thinking âbout no food. He wasnât even thinking âbout the successful drop-off or the stacks of cash tucked away.Â
Stack watched the way Smokeâs thick fingers gripped the leather upholstery. He knew that look. He knew the way Smoke got when heâd been away from Annie for too long. Like a starving dog finally seeing the door to the kitchen.Â
He ainât thinkinâ âbout no corn pone, Stack thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.Â
He could practically see it in his mind: Smoke bursting through the front door, not even stopping to take off his hat before he had Annie pinned against the wall. He knew Smoke had been sniffing those bloomers like a lifeline all day, but the cloth wasnât enough anymore. He wanted the real thing. The dripping scent of pussy that only a man who owned her could truly savor.Â
âYou in a mighty big hurry, ainât yaâ?â Stack teased, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a provocative whisper. âI can practically smell the ginger on you, brother. You ainât worried âbout my belly. You worried âbout gettinâ your face between them thick thighs âfore the sun go down.âÂ
Smokeâs head snapped toward him, dark eyes flashing with a warning that would have sent any other man running for cover. âTired of putting your face in sour, street rat pussy, Stack? Ainât my fault you so stuck on being up Notth while you missinâ out on some real pussy. Since when you had fresh cooch? That watered down, industrial muff got you sayinâ shit thatâll get you tore up. I donât play âbout Annie.âÂ
Stack grinned, leaning back into the seat, feeling his own dick throb against the fabric of his trousers. âWhy you think Iâm back? I miss home, Smoke. Miss my southern gals with sweat on they backs and a hot pussy.âÂ
The though of Annie and those wide hips, heavy breastsâŠfuck. The way she always smelled like magnolia and raw woman. It was starting to coil in his gut like a snake. He didnât want the tamales anymore. He wanted to see the look of possessive rage on Smokeâs face when he realized that Stack was thinking âbout the exact same thing.
âIâll skip the stand,â Stack conceded, his voice humming with a dangerous kind of excitement. âIâm startinâ to get hungry for somethinâ a bit moreâŠsubstantial.âÂ
The car crunched to a halt on a path, the engine giving one final, shuddering gasp before falling silent. The house didnât just sit on the land, it seemed to emerge from it. It was tucked away behind a curtain of weeping willows and towering magnolias that shielded it from the prying eyes of the road.Â
To get to the house, one had to pass by Annieâs shackâa small, weathered structure with the fragrance of dried sage, sulfur, and old earth. It was a place of business and mystery, where the locals came for root-work, protection charms, and cured for ailments the white doctors wouldnât touch. The shack was cluttered with bundles of hanging herbs and jars of murky liquids, a stark contrast to the sanctuary that lay just beyond.Â
Smokeâs home was a testament to his silent, disciplined nature. He hadnât just built a shelter, he had carved a fortress of peace out of the Delta mud. It wasnât a typical sharecroppers house with a sagging porch and a leaking roofâwhat they once lived in. This was a sturdy, wide-planked house made of deep-grained cypress and heart-pine, the wood polished. Smoke had built the porch deep and wide, with heavy railings that could support a manâs full weight, overlooking a lush garden of collards, peppers, and medicinal blooms that Annie tended with a spiritual precision.
The greenery swallowed the house in a protective embrace. Thick ivy climbed the walls, and the air felt different around him. It was cooler, dampened by the shade and the smell of damp earth and blooming jasmine. It was a place of absolute privacy, a hidden kingdom where Smoke could shed the skin of the killer and the enforcer and simply be a man.Â
Stack stepped out of the car, his polished shoes hitting the dirt. He looked at the house and felt a sudden, sharp pang of envy that had nothing to do with the architecture. He thought about where he was staying. A cramped, miserable boarding house in town where the walls were as thin as parchment. In that place, he could hear every cough, every argument, and every creak from the room next door.Â
His bed at the boarding house was a torture device. It was a rusted iron frame with a mattress that had long since surrendered its stuffing. Every night, Stack felt the cold, jagged press of the metal springs digging into his ribs and hips, leaving him restless and wired. He spent his nights tossing and turning in the humid dark, his mind racing, his body aching for a comfort he couldnât buy.Â
Looking at the solid, loving sanctuary Smoke had built for Annie, Stack felt the hunger in his gut intensify. It wasnât just the house he wanted. It was the warmth inside it. He imagined the soft sheets. The smell of spices and vanilla and musk clinging to the curtains. The plush, heavy curves of Annie moving through the rooms.Â
Smoke was already moving toward the door, his pace quickening, his broad shoulders tense with the need to be inside. He didnât look back at his brother. He was a man returning to his altar, and Stack felt like a thief stepping into a temple, already planning how he might steal a piece of the holiness for himself. As they approached the porch, the scent of simmering greens wafted through the air. Stack felt his pulse hammer on his throat.Â
Smoke pushed the heavy, cypress door open, the hinges making no noise because itâs well-oiled. The interior of the house smelled of the savory food Annie was preparing, beeswax, cedar, and the lingering, sweet scent of Annieâs skin. It was a clean, honest space, devoid of the cluttered chaos of the boating house. The furniture was all Smokeâs handiwork. Heavy oak tables and chairs with smooth, rounded edges, built to last a century.Â
Stack stepped inside, his shoes clicking softly on the polished heart-pine floors. He reached up and plucked the fedora from his head, holding it by the brim as he let his gaze wander. Usually, Stackâs visits were brief. Business transactions and quick drinks before he headed back to the noise of the Windy City. But today, the tranquil silence pulled at him. He felt the weight of the boarding house sliding off his shoulders, replaced by a sudden, sharp curiosity.Â
Stack noted the small details.
The hand-woven rugs from the coast. The jars of preserved peaches on the sideboard. The way the natural light filtered through the lace curtains. It was a home built on love and stability, things Stack traded in but rarely owned.Â
As he drifted further into the house, his eyes were drawn toward the hallway. Their bedroom door was pushed ajar, leaving a gap that felt like an invitation. Stack paused, his brow quirking as he peered inside.Â
Even from where he stood, he could smell a heavy scent of musk and spent passion. The large iron-frame bed dominated the space. The sheets were a chaotic, rumpled mess of white cotton and linen, twisted as if a storm had passed through them. The floorboards around the bed were marked with scuffs and scratches, evidence of frantic movement and heavy weight.Â
But it was one thing that caught his attention.Â
The headboard.
Tied firmly to the rusted iron bars were several strips of fabric.
Silk scarves. Sturdy cotton ribbons. All knotted tight.Â
They werenât decorative. They were functional. Worn slightly at the edges from strain.Â
Stack stared at the scarves. A slow, knowing grin spread across his full lips, dimples popping out like tiny craters.Â
He imagined Annieâs wrists bound tight against those bars, her wide hips arched and shaking shin Smoke hammered into her from behind. He could almost hear the wet slap of skin on skin and the way Annieâs voice would break into a shaky, desperate moan when she was pushed to her limit.Â
Stack felt a sudden, hot throb in his trousers. His own thick dick stirred against the crotch of his tailored slacks. The thought of his brother using those ties to hold Annie still, to possess every inch of her lush body without resistance, sent a jolt of raw envy through him.Â
He wondered if Annie liked the feeling of being trapped. Being completely overtaken by Smokeâs brutal protective hunger.Â
âYou just gonâ stand there gawked or you gonâ settle?â Smokeâs voice rasped behind him, low and warning.Â
Stack quickly shifted his stance to hide the bulge in his pants. He turned back to his brother, the charm sliding back into place like a mask, though his eyes remained dark with the image of those scarves.Â
âJust admirinâ the craftsmanship, Smoke.â Stack purred, his voice smooth like the silk of his tie. âYou always did have a knack for buildinâ things that last.âÂ
Smoke let out a short, dry huff of a laugh, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his brother. âAinât my fault you stayinâ at that shit hole,â he rasped, his voice like gravel grinding together. âYou got more coin than sense, Stack. You can afford to stay somewhere decent, like that fancy-ass apartment you keep up in Bronzeville.â
Stack just shrugged, a playful, knowing glint in his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. He knew the game of visibility. âThatâs exactly why I donât, Smoke. In a boarding house, Iâm just another traveler passing through. I blend in. Safer to be a ghost when you haulinâ the kind of heat I do. Too many eyes.âÂ
Smoke grunted, not entirely convinced but knowing Stackâs paranoia was usually rooted in profit. He stepped further into the space.Â
âYou donât gotta play ghost in your own bloodâs house. You can always sleep in the guest room when you come visit. Save yourself the fleas.âÂ
Stack let out a smooth, melodic chuckle, shaking his head.Â
He looked back toward the bedroom doorâand those tied scarvesâwith a flicker of desire crossing his face.
âI appreciate it, truly. But I donât want to be a bother. Besides,â Stack added, his voice dropping into a suggestive purr, âI fuck too much to be in here violating yaâ home. Iâd have some poor girl screaminâ your roof off by midnight, and I know how yaâ get âbout yaâ peace and quiet.â
Smoke reached up and peeled off his coat, tossing it over a chair, followed by his cap, which he set firmly on the sideboard. Stack followed suit, sliding his tailored jacket off his shoulders with a fluid motion, reveling the crisp lines of his shirt and the gold chain glinting against his chest.Â
âWhere Annie?â Stack asked, his voice softening, though the hunger in his gaze remained.Â
âFinishinâ up at the shack,â Smoke answered. âGot a few folks cominâ for cleansing and roots âfor me sundown.â
As they moved toward the kitchen, the rich, savory scent of home hit them full force. On top of the black iron wood-burning stove, a heavy cast iron pot sat simmering, the lid rattling slightly as steam escaped. The smell of slow-cooked collards, smoked turkey, and seasoned cornmeal filled the air. It was the smell of Annie.
âIâm gonna go check the ice box.â Smoke grunted, his voice low and final. He didnât look back as he stepped out the back door, the screen door slapping shut with a sharp crack.Â
 The moment the door closed, Stack didnât waste a second. He reached over to the stove, snatching a piece of warm, buttery corn pone from the platter, and slid into a wooden chair. He leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. He was chewing slowly, tasting the salt and corn, but his mind was still vibrating from the sight of the bedroom. After he finished, tongue skimming his teeth, flipping a silver coin with a clink-snap against his palm.Â
Then, the front door groaned open.Â
Stack stopped mid-flip. The coin landed on the table with a dull thud, forgotten.Â
Annie walked in, and for a heartbeat, Stack forgot how to breathe.Â
It had been months since heâd seen her, and the woman had only grown more lush, more devastating. She was dressed for the end of a workday at the shack, wearing a deep indigo cotton dress that clung to every magnificent curve of her frame. The fabric was stretched tight across her heavy, rounded breasts, the buttons straining slightly against the swell of her chest. As she moved, the skirt hugged the massive, sweeping flare of her hips and the plushness of her thighs, swaying with a weight that made Stackâs mouth go dry.Â
She had an ivory-colored lace shawl draped loosely over her shoulders, and her hair was wrapped in a vibrant orange head tie. That made her deep brown skin glow. She looked like a goddess of the earth, smelling of dried sage, sweet vanilla, and that raw feminine musk that always seemed to radiate off her skin.Â
Stackâs gaze didnât just linger on Annie.Â
It devoured.Â
He watched the way her backside moved under the indigo fabric. The heavy jiggle of her rear with every step she took toward the kitchen. He could almost imagine the feel of those wide hips under his palms. The way her soft, ample flesh would spill over his fingers if he dared to grab her. He felt his dick stir and thicken in his trousers, a sudden hard ache pulsing in his groin as he imagined her stripped bare, plush body shaking under him.Â
Annie stopped dead in her tracks the moment she spotted him.
Her expression changed from exhaustion to a cold, sharp irritation. Annie didnât hide her distaste; her eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She knew exactly how Stack looked at her. Like a starving man looking at a feast.Â
Bastard.Â
âElias,â she said, her voice a rich, smooth contralto that vibrated right through Stackâs chest. âI didnât know Smoke had let the circus back into the house.âÂ
Stackâs eyes slid down from her face to the deep valley of her cleavage and then back up. He gave her a slow, lazy grin. That smile usually worked on every woman from Clarksdale to Chicago, but he knew Annie was different. He knew she carried a blade in her bodice and a spirit that couldnât be bought or charmed.Â
He wanted her. Goddamn if he didnât. But he wasnât stupid enough to push her to the point where sheâd carve a piece out of him.Â
âNow, Annie,â Stack purred, his voice dripping with a forced sweetness. âNo need to be so cold. I just came to visit my dear brother and sis in law.âÂ
Annie ignored the flirtation. She stepped further into the kitchen to set her bag of herbs on the table. As she leaned over, the fabric of her dress pulled taut across her backside, outlining the deep, rounded cleft of her ass.Â
Stackâs eyes locked onto it, pupils dilating. He was practically eye-fucking her, his gaze tracing the curve of her waist down to the heavy swell of her hips. He could almost smell the torridity coming off her, the scent of a woman who spent her days working with the earth and her nights being thoroughly claimed by a man like Smoke Moore.Â
She straightened up, catching him staring.Â
She just looked at him with a mixture of pity and disgust.Â
âHow you been, Elias?â Annie asked, though the question sounded more like a formality than actual interest. âStill runninâ scams and dodging the law in the North?â
Stack let out a low, humming chuckle, his eyes never leaving the heavy swing of her hips as she moved. He leaned back in the chair, the silver coin dancing across his knuckles again, though his focus was entirely on the way that indigo fabric strained against her plush thighs.Â
 âI been aight, Annie. Just a bit lonely for some of that Southern hospitality,â Stack purred, his voice sliding over her like silk.
Annie didnât give him the satisfaction of a blush. She just gave him a look of pure, unadulterated disdain, her nostrils flaring. She knew he was tracing every curve of her wide hips and the deep swell of her breasts, and she treated his gaze like a smudge of dirt on the floor.Â
âYou still got a mouth that runs faster than your brain, Elias,â she snapped, turning her back to him to reach for a pot on the stove.Â
The movement was a gift.
As she reached upward, the hem of her dress lifted just enough to reveal the tops of her thick, deep brown thighs and the tantalizing curve of her rear.Â
Stackâs dick throbbed violently against his trousers.Â
He was practically salivating, his gaze locked onto the jiggle of her backside.Â
Then, the screen door creaked.Â
Smoke stepped back into the kitchen, his presence instantly swallowing the room. The second his dark eyes landed on Annie, the hard, neutral mask he wore for the world shattered.Â
He didnât say a word.Â
Smoke walked straight up to her, ankle boots thudding on the pine floor, and wrapped his massive arms around her from behind.Â
Stack watched, a mixture of envy and heat flooding his gut as Smoke claimed her. Smokeâs large, calloused hands didnât falter. They slid down from her waist and clamped firmly onto her plush ass, squeezing the heavy flesh with. Possessive, bruising grip. He pulled her back hard against his groin, letting her feel the thick, curved length of his dick pressing into the small of her back.Â
Smoke buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, his mustache brushing against her glowing skin. He looked like he was claiming his prey, biz eyes closing as he breathed in her scent of vanilla and musk. He began to whisper something low and guttural in her earâsomething private and filthyâthat made Annieâs shoulders drop and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.Â
Annie glanced sideways at Smokeâs coat, her eyes flickering with a secret understanding.
The realization that Smoke was carrying her scent around like. Drug while currently squeezing her real-life ass made Stackâs head spin.
âLord have mercy,â Stack interrupted, his voice loud and jarring, breaking the spell. He stood up, tossing the coin one last time and catching it with a sharp snap. âYaâll gonâ get to the fuckinâ or can I find out when I get to eat? âCause Iâm starvinâ over here, and the smell of that corn pone is startinâ to make me crazy.âÂ
Annie rolled her eyes. She leaned back into Smokeâs chest for one last second before pulling away. She shot Stack. Look that promised a blade to the ribs if he kept talking, but the irritation was tempered by the lingering heat Smoke had just sparked in her.Â
Annie turned back to the stove, the heavy cast iron skillet sizzling with corn pone and fried catfish. She moved with grace. She slid the golden-brown cakes onto a platter, the scent of grease and salt filling the kitchen.Â
Stack leaned against the counter, a glass of liquor in his hand that heâd fetched from the Model A, sipping slowly. His eyes were locked on Annie, tracing the deep dip of her waist and the way her breasts strained against her blouse as she leaned over to scoop collards. He took a swallow of the whiskey, the burn in his throat matching the heat pooling in his groin as he watched her.Â
Smoke, meanwhile, hadnât moved far from her side. He stood silent and strong, dark eyes locked onto his wife. He wasnât just looking, he was devouring her. His eyes traveled from the curve of her calves up to the heavy swell of her rear, his jaw tight. He looked like a man who wanted to throw the food on the floor and bend her over the table right then and there.
âHere,â Annie spoke with a hushed tone, setting the heavy ceramic plates down on the pine table.Â
She stepped behind Smoke, her soft, warm palms landing on his broad shoulders. She began to knead the hard knots of muscle there, her fingers digging into the tension he always carried. Smoke let out a low, grunt, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to her touch.Â
As the men began to eat, the contrast was stark. Stack ate like a city manâprecise, talking between bites, his movements theatrical and light. Smoke ate like a starving animal. He tore into the catfish and corn pone with a primal intensity, his movements efficient and heavy, focused entirely on the fuel and the woman rubbing his shoulders.Â
Annie watched them, her intuitive gaze flickering between the two identical faces. She could feel the static in the room, the way Stackâs energy was a jagged line of desire and mischief, while Smokeâd was a heavy, possessive weight.Â
âSo, Elias,â Annie said, her voice smooth but cautious. âHow long you planninâ on stayinâ in town this time?âÂ
Smoke didnât stop chewing, but he answered for his brother, his voice so deep that it vibrated through Annieâs palms.Â
âHe stayinâ at that boarding house in town. The one with the thin walls and the bedbugs.â Smoke repositioned his hips, his shoulder brushing against Annieâs chest. âI told him he could take the guest room here. Told him he ainât need to be payinâ a stranger for a drafty room.âÂ
Annieâs hands paused for a fraction of a second. She didnât say a word, but her silence was word enough. The thought of Stack sleeping under her roof brought a familiar tightness to her chest. It wasnât that she feared him, but she knew the wake of trouble he left behind. Stack was a whirlwind of bad decisions and risky gambles, and whenever he rolled into town, he spent half his time trying to convince Smoke to dive headfirst into some new, dangerous venture. She didnât want that energy in her sanctuary; she didnât want the instability he brought leaking into the peace she and Smoke built.Â
But she felt the way Smoke leaned into her. She knew how much the silent man missed his twin, how the bond between them was a tether that Smoke refused to cut, no matter how many times Stack played the fool.Â
Annie sighed, her fingers resuming their massage. She looked over at Stack, who was watching her with a smug, knowing grin, looking every bit the charming rogue who knew exactly how to push her buttons.Â
âNow, Elias,â Annie said, her voice softening into a forced sweetness, âdonât be stubborn. You know that boarding house is a pit. Why donât you just stay here witâ us? Iâll make sure you got a hot, cooked meal every night you in town.âÂ
Stackâs grin widened, his eyes flashing. He didnât look at the food on his plate. He looked straight at Annie. His gaze slid down to her chest and back up with an appreciative, playful hunger.
âWell now.â Stack purred, his voice dripping with honey. âIf the ladyâs promisinâ to feed meâŠIâd be a fool to say no.Â
The dinner plates were cleared, the remnants of the meal still steaming on the wood-burning stove. As soon as the screen door clicked shut behind Stack, leaving him to retrieve his bags from the boarding house, the playful jagged energy Stack brought with him evaporated, replaced by the heavy, grounding inferno that only existed between Smoke and Annie.Â
Smoke didnât waste a second. He reached out, his large calloused hand wrapping around Annieâs waist, and with one firm tug, he pulled her plush body down onto his lap. Annie let out a soft oomph, her heavy hips settling securely against his muscular thighs. She rested her arms on his broad shoulders, her espresso-brown skin glowing against the fabric of his shirt.Â
âThank you for lettinâ him stay, baby,â Smoke whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. âI know he a handful. Promise you, it wonât be long. Just âtil he gets his head right.â
Annie exhaled, a long sigh that made her large breasts brush against his chest. She ran her hands over his slicked hair, settling them at the nape of his neck where she drew lazy circles with her thumbs.Â
âI know he your blood, Smoke. I ainât blind to that. But tell your brother he better be on his best behavior while he under my roof. I got a root thatâll put him in line and make him as quiet as a church mouse if he start stirrinâ up trouble for you.âÂ
Smoke let out a rare, huffing soundâalmost a laughâand tilted his head up. His deep brown eyes were dark, hooded with a hunger that had nothing to do with the meal theyâd just finished. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that started tender but quickly turned possessive, his tongue sliding against hers with a primal urgency.Â
As they broke for air, Smoke kept his lips brushed against her ear, his breath causing her to shiver as it ticked her ear. His voice dropped to a filthy, desperate whisper that sent a jolt of electricity straight to Annieâs core.
âI canât stand it, Annie,â Smoke groaned, his hand sliding down from her waist to squeeze the lush curve of her ass. âThose draws I been keepinâ in my coatâŠthe scent done gone dry. I spent all day sniffinâ âem just to keep my mind on you, but they donât smell like you no more. They ainât fresh.âÂ
Annieâs breath hitched. The sheer hunger in his tone, the way the most feared man in the county sounded like a starving dog begging for a scrap, made her pussy quiver violently. She could feel the sudden rush of arousal between her thighs, her own juices beginning to soak into the cotton of her underwear.
âYou a damn animal,â she whispered, though she arched her back, pressing her softness deeper into his lap.
âI am for you,â Snoke growled, his hand migrating forward, fingers hooking beneath her skirt and slithering up to cup her fat pussy in the palm of his hand. It was hot to the touch and moist. âI need a fresh pair. I need âem soaked in you, Annie. I need to smell that sweet pussy fresh off yaâ skin âgore I lose my goddamn mind.âÂ
Annie slid side-saddle across Smokeâs thighs. The movement caused her heavy breasts to sway and her wide, plush hips to grind against him. She reached down, her fingers hooking into the lace edge of her bloomers, and slowly peeled them down. She didnât stand up. She just slid the fabric down her thick thighs and off her feet. Her swollen, dark pussy was now within reach just beneath her indigo skirt.
Smoke didnât waste another second. He snatched the fabric from her hand with a desperation bordered on feral. He pressed the damp cotton deep into his nostrils, inhaling sharply, his eyes closing as he drank in the concentrated scent of her.Â
Annie let out a low, throaty moan, her hand sliding down to find the massive bulge in his pants. Smoke was rock hard, dick as thick as a forearm and straining against the fabric. She gripped him, squeezing the heavy length of him, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat through his pants. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear, her voice dropping to a filthy, honeyed whisper.Â
âI got âem extra drenched just for you, SmokeâŠI been in that shack all day, just sittinâ witâ my legs openâŠthinkinâ âbout how you fucked me the other night. Thinkinâ âbout how you stretched me out âtil I couldnât walk straight. Left me sore and achinâ in all the right places.âÂ
Smoke let out a low growl, his grip tightening on the bloomers, bunching the fabric in his fist as he breathed her in. The image of her alone in her shack, leaking for him, sent a surge of desire through his veins.Â
âYou like that, baby?â Annie breathed, her fingers kneading his thick dick âcan you smell it? Can you smell how much I gushed for you?âÂ
Smoke didnât respond with words. He gripped Annieâs thick, brown thighs and hoisted them up, sliding them over his broad shoulders. He dropped to his hands and knees on the floor, positioning himself perfectly between her legs. Annie leaned back in the chair, her breath hitching as she felt the sudden, cool air hit her soaking wet slit, followed immediately by the searing heat of Smokeâs mouth. He dove in with a primal hunger. Smoke didnât tease; he dove straight in, his long, thick tongue lashing out to swipe across her soaking wet slit.Â
Smoke groaned into her meaty pussy, the taste of her hitting him like a drug. He tongued her deeply, tasting the thick, creamy mess sheâd been brewing all day, his tongue swirling around her clit before sliding deep between her foldsâflat against her labia and curling right at her openingâto lap up every drip of her arousal. He was eating her with a starving intensity, breath heavy against her sensitive flesh, confirming exactly how much she had been longing for him.
 He was devouring her.Â
His tongue, thick and powerful, lashed against her clit with a punishing force that made Annieâs entire body shudder. Smoke sucked her clit deep into his mouth, creating a suction that sent electric shocks straight to her core. The sound was wet and obscene. Loud, slapping noises of his tongue meeting her drenched flesh and the guttural groans he made as he tasted the concentrated musk sheâd been brewing all day.Â
Driven by a need to see the devastation he was causing, Annie reached down and hiked the hem of her skirt up past her waist, bunching the fabric in her fists. She looked down, her eyes widening at the sight of her husbandâs head buried between her legs, his jaw working tirelessly as he licked her clean, only for her to gush more juice the moment he touched her.Â
The pleasure was becoming too much to contain.Â
With shaky fingers, Annie began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She popped them one by one, her chest heaving with every ragged breath. As the fabric parted, she relaxed her breasts from the constraint of her bra, letting them spill out with a heavy, satisfying bounce.Â
Lush, and heavy, with a deep rich brown hue that shimmered under the natural light filtering in. They were full and pendulous, swaying slightly as she breathed, the weight of them pulling downward in a way that emphasized her womanly curves. The skin was smooth as fine silk, stretching over the ample volume of her chest. At the center of each breast sat a wide, dark areola, the color of bitter chocolate, circling nipples that were hard and peaking, straining for touch. They were thick and prominent, resting to the intensity of the oral pounding she was receiving below.
Smoke looked up for a split second, his face glistening with her juices, eyes dark as he stared at her swinging breasts. He let out a low, growl, then dove back in, his tongue swirling deep inside her pussy, tasting the creaminess of her while Annie arched her back, heavy breasts bouncing with every thrust of his tongue.Â
Her voice broke into a series of high, desperate moans.Â
Smoke didnât pull away. He started talking against her drenched folds, his voice vibrating through her thighs. He sounded possessed, his words muffled by the plush folds of her pussy as he continued to lap at her with a relentless, starving need.
âGoddamn, AnnieâŠI canât get enough of this pussy,â he groaned, the words wet and thick.Â
Smoke pulled back just an inch, his lips glistening with her cream. His dark eyes looked up at her with so much adoration.Â
âI spent all day thinkinâ âbout it, baby. Every minute Iâm out there, I just ache to get my face back in this sweet, soaking wet pussy.âÂ
Smoke dove back in, tongue delivering a long, sweeping stroke from her bottom to the top, slurping loudly as he sucked her clit so deep she could feel the length of his tongue swipe her button as he sealed his lips. The sound was nasty. A wet, schlick-slurp that filled the kitchen.Â
âI need it, baby,â Smoke rumbled, his voice breaking into a growl against her flesh. âI need this pussy to ground me. I need to taste you, smell youâŠfuck, you taste like heaven and sin all at once, woman. I could eat yiu for a lifetime and still be starvinâ for more.âÂ
Annie let out a jagged. High-pitched moan, her head snapping back against the chair. The sensation of his tongue lashing her clit while he whispered filth into her folds was driving her to the edge. Her hands flew to her heavy breasts, her fingers digging into the lush flesh. She gripped her own tits, squeezing, the weight of them spilling between her fingers as she kneaded them.Â
She watched him from above, her eyes hazy with lust, seeing the way his shoulders bunched and flexed as he worked. She began to roll her hard, chocolate-colored nipples between her fingers, pulling on them in sync with the suction of his mouth.Â
âElijahâŠoh, Lord, Elijah,â Annie whimpered, her voice shaking. She arched her back, pushing her wide, plush mound harder against his face, demanding every bit of his tongue.
Smoke responded by intensifying the assault. He began to sick her pussy with a cyclone-like force, his cheeks hollowing as he slurped her juices up, making loud, messy sounds. He was tearing her fat, fuckinâ pussy up, his tongue swirling and poking deep inside her, tasting the thick, honeyed musk of her arousal.Â
âMy beautiful, thick-hipped woman,â Smoke mumbled with a shaky voice that vibrated against her clit. âThis pussy the only thing keepinâ me sane. I love how you gush faâ me, baby. I love how you taste. Give it all to me, Annie. Just leak all over my damn face.âÂ
Annieâs moans turned into shaky cries. She squeezed her breasts tighter, nipples peaking and straining as she felt the orgasm building, thick thighs trembling on his shoulders while he continued to eat her like she was the only meal heâd ever known. Like the corn pone, catfish, and collards ainât settle his hunger.Â
Smokeâs voice had gone from a rumble to a command, a raw, demanding groan. He didnât just want her pleasure; he wanted her surrender. He gripped her thick, plentiful thighs, fingers digging into the meat of her legs to hold her wide open, pinning her firmly against his face.Â
âCum on my tongue, Annieâcum faâ me, baby, gimme it girl Iâm workinâ hard for it where my gushy mess at, baby, give it to daddy.â Smoke barked, the words muffled by her soaking wet folds. âCum right now. I wanna feel you shake. Paint my tongue witâ that sweet cream.âÂ
Smoke repositioned his attack, his tongue becoming a weapon of precision. He started to flick her clit with a rapid, punishing speed then his lips created a tight seal around her, sucking her into his saliva-filled mouth. He would go back and forth between quick flicks of his tongue and tight sucks. Wet, slurpâpop, sounds. The sound of a man trying to drain every single drop of cum from her body.Â
âPaint it, babyâfuckâgive it to me.â Smoke commanded, voice deep and demanding and filled with so much hunger. âI wanna taste every bit of it. Pour it all over my fuckinâ tongue, baby, nowââ
Annie was beyond words. Her head was thrashed back, her eyes crossed, and her fingers were practically bruising her own heavy breasts. Her thick, thunderous thighs clamped down on Smokeâs head tight. The command in his voice acted like a trigger, snapping the eruption that had been building in her core.Â
âELIJAH. OhâŠmyâŠGodâbáșčáșčni, kan lara ki o dara, báșčáșčniâELIJAH!â Annie screamed, her voice cracking.Â
Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a violent, racking explosion that started in her womb and radiated outward. Her pussy clamped down hard in his mouth, pulsing in powerful spasms that squeezed her juices out in thick, hot bursts. She felt herself gushing, milkyâwhite flooding his tongue, painting his lips and chin in a glistening honeyed trail similar to coconut milk.Â
Smoke didnât pull away from the trap of her thighs. He leaned into it, lapping at her orgasmic floods, sucking and slurping the pulses of her climax as if he were trying to drink her soul. He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure, animalistic satisfaction, as he felt her body shudder and quake on his shoulders.Â
âThatâs itâŠyeah, paint itâŠgive it all to me,â Smoke mumbled against her skin, his voice thick with lust.Â
Annieâs muscles twitched because her thighs trembled violently. The aftershocks of the orgasm continued to ripple through her. She collapsed back into the chair, her chest heaving, breasts bouncing with every ragged breath and shaky exhale. She looked down at himâher husband, her rockâhis face drenched in her musk, eyes dark and looking up at her with a look that told her he was far from finished.Â
Smoke rose up from between her spread thighs, knees planted firm on the kitchen floor as he stayed right there between them. His big hands came up and cupped the heavy weight of her breasts, palms sliding underneath to lift and cradle them. Both hands wrapped around the plush fullness, fingers sinking into the squishy give as he pushed them together and angled the wide dark areolas straight toward his mouth.Â
Annie watched from above, breath catching as his lips brushed the first areola. Smoke kissed slow and openâmouthed, pressing warm, wet kisses all across the dark circle before moving to the thick nipple itself. His tongue flicked out, tasting the pebbles skin, then he sealed his lips around it and began to suck.Â
The pull was steady and deep. He sucked in a rhythm that matched the throb still pulsing between her legs, tongue pressing up against the underside while his lips worked in a tight seal. Every few pulls he released with a wet pop, only to switch to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Back and forth he went, sucking one nipple hard until it stood shiny and stiff, then moving to the other, leaving a trail of spit connecting them.Â
Annie moaned low in her throat. The suction sent sharp sparks straight down to her clit, each strong pull making her pussy clench around nothing. She felt the wet, heat of his mouth and the firm drag of his tongue circling and flicking while he suckled. The pressure was building until it bordered on too much before easing off just enough to start again, sending goosebumps over her skin and a tickle down her spine. Her heavy breasts bounced slightly with every switch, the air cool from his spit hitting her wet nipples before his hot mouth claimed them once more.Â
âElijahâŠâ Annie breathed, one hand sliding over his slicked hair as he kept going, sucking and releasingâŠsucking and releasing, big hands keeping her tits aimed exactly where he wanted them. âte siwaju, mase duro, ElijahâŠâ
She was telling him to keep going.Â
He swirled his tongue around the thick stiff tip of her nipples, teasing the nerve endings until she gasped, then heâd plunge it back in, drawing the flesh tight.Â
He was keeping her right on the edge.Â
âFuckinâ love these big olâ breasts, babyââ
âI love the way you make love to my breasts witâ that mouthââ
âYeah?âÂ
âbeeni, yesâŠâ
âI eat up every inch of you, baby, you know thatââ
âI do, yesâDaddyâyes, I doââ
Smoke used his teeth lightly, grazing the fleshy, ample sides of her pendulous breasts, creating a sharp contrast to the wet, sliding, heat of his tongue. Smoke was working her breasts like they were the only thing keeping him alive, big hands squeezing the plush undersides, pushing the heavy mounds upward to give his mouth better access.Â
Annie was completely undone. The words she tried to form died in her throat, replaced by broken, airy whimpers and trembling moans. She couldnât find the breath to tell him how much she loved it, or to beg him not to stop. Her mind had gone blank, reduced to nothing but the sensation of his mouth. Every time he switched breasts, the sudden rush of cool air on the wet, swollen nipple made her shiver, only for the heat to return a second later as he claimed the other side.Â
The suction was so intense it felt like he was pulling the very spoil out of her through her chest. The sensation radiated downward, triggering a heavy, pulsing and in her drenched pussy. Annie felt the wetness leaking from her, dripping down her thighs, while her breasts felt heavy and engorged, tingling with a fierce, electric blaze.Â
Smoke looked up for a solid second, pupils dilated and eyelids low like he was drunk off her body. His lips were covered in a mixture of spit and her pussy juices. He saw her dazed expression, her head lolling back, her chest heaving. He let out a grunt and a hum and dove back in, sucking her nipples with an even more aggressive hunger.
Smoke was determined to keep her in this state of mindless, shivering bliss and keep her pussy wet so he can get in it with one stroke and make her cream even more.Â
Smoke sensed her peaking, his instincts sharpening. He latched onto her left nipple with a fierce grip, pulling the dark, swollen bud into his mouth. The sensation came in slow draws, each one lingering longer than the last. While he worked that breast, his fingers reached up to grip the right breast, his thumb and forefinger catching the other stiff nipple and twirling it, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers.
The dual sensationâthe deep, wet heat of Smokeâs mouth on one side and the firm, twisting friction on the otherâwas too much. Annie let out a broken, high-pitched keen, her hips bucking instinctively against the air. She was completely undone, her mind a gaze of deep-brown skin and the overwhelming presence of her husband.
âSmokeâŠoh god, Smoke,â she whimpered, her voice shaking and thick with lust. Annie reached down, her fingers brushing against the hard, heavy ridge of his dick pressing against his pants. The feel of himâthick, long, and pulsing with a need that mirrored her ownâsent a fresh wave of wetness crashing through her.Â
Annie couldnât take the anticipation anymore. The need to taste him, to feel that massive length in her mouth, becaus an obsession. She began to plead, her voice dropping a guttural rasp.Â
âSmokeâŠplease, babyâŠplease let me,â Annie begged, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. âI need it. I need to suck youâŠlet me taste you, Smoke. Please, let me suck yaâ dick.â Her eyes were pleading and glazed. âIâm begginâ, DaddyâŠlet me get on my knees. Let me take it.âÂ
Smoke let out a grunt. He stepped back, pulling away from her plush breasts, leaving her nipples swollen, dark, and glistening with saliva. He stood tall, his imposing frame casting a wide shadow over her, but the bright Mississippi sun that early, summer evening streamed through the kitchen windows, bathing his brown skin with rich, gold undertones in a warm light.Â
Smoke reached down and gripped the hem of his shirt. He lowered his suspenders from his shoulders. He started unbuttoned his shirt, eyes never leaving Annieâs face.Â
âItâs okay, babyâŠdaddy gonâ give you this dick, aight? You ainât gotta beg me, baby. This dick belong to you. You take this dick, hear?âÂ
The light hit the hard planes of his abdomen, highlighting the ripple of his muscles and the deep, rich tone of his brown skin.
Annie, still breathless and trembling in the chair, watched with wide, glazed eyes as he stood before her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, pussy throbbing with a wet, heavy pressure that made her feel like she was melting into the wood of the seat. She reached out with shaking hands, her fingers fumbling with the buttons on his pants. She could feel the heat radiating off him. Primal. Masculine. Smelling of tobacco, musk, and raw desire.Â
Her fingers popped open the button and she slid the zipper down with a slow, agonizing rasp. As she reached inside to hook her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling the fabric down and away, his dick sprang free with a heavy thud against his lower belly.Â
Annie froze. Her breath hitched in her throat.
The natural light from the window hit him perfectly.
It reflected off the smooth, taut skin of his shaft.Â
His dick was a masterpiece of masculine power.Â
Thick. Long. Pulsing with a life of its own.Â
The skin was a deep, dark brown, stretched tight over the engorged veins that coiled around the length like vines of temptation. The head was a swollen, blunt crown, glistening with a so much pre-cum it left behind a long, slimy string that was still connected to his underwear. It sparkled like a dining against the dark velvet of his flesh.Â
Annie stared. Mesmerized by the way it curved slightly to the right. A heavy, authoritative arc that promised to fill every fucking inch of her. The sheer size of it made her mouth water; just looking at the thickness of the baseâŠwhere it joined his muscular thighsâŠmade her imagine the feeling of it stretching her wide, splitting her open and hitting the very back of her womb.
A wave of pure, unadulterated lust crashed over her.Â
The size of his pleasure stickâŠ
Standing proud and rigid in the golden light made her feel small and greedy. She felt a primal urge to serve him. To wrap her lips around that massive head and feel the pulse of his heartbeat in her throat. Her pussy gave a violent, needy squeeze, leaking a fresh torrent of slickness down her thighs as she gazed up at the man who owned her soul and body.Â
Annie had memorized every vein. Every ripple of muscle. The way the sunlight danced on the wet tip of his dick, knowing that in a few moments she would be tasting every bit of it. Her voice was a fragile, trembling thing, barely a whisper as she looked up at him from her knees. Her eyes were glossy, wide with a mixture of awe and hunger.Â
âI ainât never seen nothinâ so beautiful in my whole life,â Annie whispered, her voice shaking with the intensity of her arousal.Â
Her fingers wrapped around the thick base. As her fingers circled, the tips barely closed around the girth, her palm pressing against him. As she began to stroke him, her movements were slow and delirious, her gaze locked onto the way his dark skin slid over the engorged veins. Annie looked up at him with a look of pure, submissive devotion, her expression screaming that she couldnât believe he possessed such a massive, powerful piece of meat.Â
Smoke let out a sharp, jagged breath, his head snapping back, adamâs apple bobbing, a wave of pleasure crashing through him. He was ruined. The contrast of her soft, supple hand gripping his rigid dick was almost too much to bear. He looked down at herâhis lush, opulent wife, her heavy breasts swaying and her face filled with worshipâand felt a surge of primal dominance.Â
Annie leaned in, her breath hot against his skin.
 She started with a long, wet lick from the base all the way up to the crown. She moaned deep in her throat, a sound of pure satisfaction as she tasted him.Â
âMy big, strong man,â Annie whispered against his flesh, her voice thick with lust. âGot such a big dickâŠsuch a beautiful, big dick.âÂ
She licked him again, more insistently this time, swirling her tongue around the swollen head and catching the bead of pre-cum. She was praising him with every wet sound. Every shaky breath. Treating his dick like a holy relic. She looked up at him again, her lips glistening with his pre-cum and her spit, her eyes pleading.Â
âYou so big, Smoke,â Annie groaned, her hand tightening its grip, pumping and bouncing that meaty dick in her grip. âI just want itâŠI want all of this dick inside me. But I gotta taste yaâ first. I gotta serve yaââŠâ
Smoke groaned, his hips giving a small, involuntary twitch forward. He reached down, his hand burying itself in the fabric of her headwrap, tilting her head back so he could see the sheer desperation in her eyes. He loved the way she looked at him. Like he was a god. Like his dick was the only thing in the world that mattered.Â
âThen get it, baby,â Smoke growled, his voice low and dangerous. âOpen that pretty mouth and take every inch of it.â Â
She opened her mouth wide, her lips parting in a wet, eager circle as she leaned forward to take him. She started by swirling her tongue around the broad, weeping head of his dick, tasting the thick bed of pre-cum that clung to his slit and wouldnât stop leaking. She let out a muffled moan of approval, her eyes fluttering shut for a second as she savored the taste of his skin.Â
Then, she slid forward, taking the head and the first few inches of the shaft into her mouth. The sheer girth of him stretched her lips tight, filling her oral cavity completely. She loved the feeling of being stretched, the way her cheeks puffed out slightly to accommodate the massive thickness of his meat. She knew exactly how Smoke liked it. He didnât want a gentle touch. He wanted to feel her struggle and succumb to his size.Â
Annie started to suck.Â
She used her tongue to massage the ridge of the glansâhis most sensitive spotâcreating a wet, slapping sound every time her lips broke the seal to gasp for air.
Slurp. Pop. Shlick
The noises were raw and vividly resonant.Â
Annie focused on the underside of the shaft, flicking her tongue over the vein that pulsed like a living thing against her palate. As she worked her way deeper, she felt the back of her throat tighten. She pushed past her limit, gagging slightly as the head of his dick hit the back of her throat. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into it, her eyes watering, her nose closer to his pubic hair the more she tried.Â
She loved the feeling of him claiming her mouth. The way he dominated her breathing.Â
She began to bob her head. Sliding up and down the length of him, throat working hard to swallow as much as possible. Nose pulling in air so she wouldnât choke. Lips and jaw muscles working to keep a tight ring around his shaft as she sucked.Â
Smoke was losing his damn mind.
He gripped the fabric of her headwrap tighter, knuckles bulging, guiding her with a firm hand. His hips twitched forward instinctively, driving himself deeper into her wet mouth. He loved the suction she created. The way she slurped and sealed his dick, pulling at him with a needy intensity and a slow, roll of her neck that made his toes curl in his ankle boots.Â
âYeah, like that, babyâŠdo it like that,â Smoke groaned, his voice a jagged rasp. âSuck itâŠtake all this meat, you such a greedy lilâ thing.âÂ
Annie responded by increasing the suction, cheeks hollowing out as she pulled on him. She used her hand to grip the base of his dick, pumping in sync with her mouth, ensuring that every single inch of him was being stimulated. She could feel the vibrations of his groans traveling through his dick and into her jaw.Â
Annie looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes dazed and devoted, watching the way his face contorted in pleasure.Â
She knew the signs. The way his breath became short and shallow. The way his thighs began to tremble.Â
She sped up, her tongue working frantically around the head while she sucked the shaft with a powerful force. The sound became a wet, messy symphony of lubrication and lust, the squelch of her saliva coating his dark stick as she worshipped him. She was determined to drain every drop of pleasure from his massive frame.Â
Smokeâs hand clamped tight onto Annieâs headwrap, his fingers digging into the fabric to anchor her firmly in place. He stopped letting her set the pace and took complete control, his hips beginning to drive forward in a slow, punishing motion.Â
He started fucking her mouth, the thick rigid length of his dick sliding deep into her throat with every thrust.Â
Annie looked liked sheâd been crying for hoursâeyes puffy, spit-covered, cheeks sunken and lips puffy from all that damn suckingâand Smoke loved it.Â
His face was a mask of raw, unfiltered pleasure.Â
His features contorted, eyes squeezed shut as he felt the wet, tightness of her mouth gripping him. A low, jagged groan ripped from his chest. Smoke was shaking, powerful thighs trembling with the effort of holding back the tide, but the sensation of her tongue swirling around the head while her throat squeezed the shaft was driving him over the edge.
âGoddamn, AnnieâŠâ Smoke rasped. âYou suck it so fuckinâ goodâŠmouth feel like heavenâŠso tightâŠso wetâŠâ
Smoke thrust deeper, forcing a muffled, throaty whimper from her. He loved the way she surrendered her mouth to him. The way her eyes fluttered in devotion as she took every inch of his girth like a good wife supposed to. Smoke could feel his dick pulsing violently inside her mouth, the veins throbbing against her tongue, engorged to the absolute limit.Â
Then, she grabbed for his balls. His heavy balls. They were covered in spit. Annie used her fingers to massage his wet balls like they were fine jewels. A soft, rotating motion that tickled in the best way.Â
The pressure in his loins became an unbearable ache, a whiteâhot tension that demanded release. Smoke increased the speed, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, and more desperate. The sound of his dick sliding in and out of her mouth became a wet, slapping symphonyâshluck, squelch, popâas he drove himself into her.Â
âLook at me. Look up at me while you suck my pole. I wanna see your eyes when I cum.â
Annie did just that. She flicked her gaze up at Smoke, giving him a slow, tantalizing blink like a femme fatale flapper.Â
Smoke arched his hips forward at the same time Annie sucked. His fingers dug into her plush shoulders. He sounded like he was fighting for air.Â
âIâm gonâ cum, Annie,â Smoke growled, his grip on her headwrap tightening until his fingers shook. âIâm âbout to blowâbabyâthe it allâŠtake every fuckinâ drop of meââ
Smoke gave one final, deep plunge, burying himself to the hilt in her throat, his hips locking against her face as the first violent wave of orgasm crashed through him.Â
Stack ainât shit ainât never been shit !! Then gone try to throw the niggas in town under the bus sir we talking bout you wanting ya brother lady !! But whewww yesss a part to the Annie and smoke be on each other the way he want to live in her skin we need that part two this was so good !! This man say âdonât wash yet â get in that bedroomâ Annie talking bout why girl you know why he gonna take you down through there !! We need a scene of Annie tied up on that headboard cause whattt !! Smoke and Annie are the biggest freaks
The shack scene actually is my favorite part of the movie! its a scene that so much is said without them even having to speak a word! the actors ! these amazing actors physicality and how they used their bodies to tell a story â the breath/shutter Annie takes when smokes brushes past her â their both holding their breaths in this scene for completely different reasons itâs an amazing and I believe is one of the reasons they both were nominated for Oscarâs and why Michael won !!
Untitled @brownskincheyenne - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
