I sat at my kitchen counter and stared at the clear glass vase full of roses. A dozen red roses to be exact. They filled my kitchen with a beautiful fragrance but my heart was still hardened at the sender.
I didn’t need to look at the card to know who sent them. Rocco was the only one that needed my forgiveness. After last week’s encounter with his brother and his complete dismissal of me, I have refused to talk to him. I should have listened to my conscience. I knew he wasn’t that in to me. He just told me whatever I wanted to hear just to get me in bed. I was a fool to think he would want anything more.
I grabbed the vase and walked it over to the windowsill. I placed it next to the six other vases of flowers sent by him. I removed the two vases with dying flowers and trashed them. I put the vases in the sink and made my way into the living room. It was Saturday and my intent was to watch TV in my pajamas and wallow in my own self pity.
My phone rang on the coffee table and I leaned over to check the screen. Rocco’s name appeared and my heart skipped a beat. That only made me angrier. How dare he still give me butterflies.
I just let the phone ring and turned the volume up on the TV. A few minutes after the ringing stopped it began again. I ignored it again despite the urge I had to answer. It had only been a week and I missed him. It only made my pity party much more bleak.
Thirty minutes later, I heard a knock at the door. I muted the TV and stood from the couch. I walked over to the door and peeked through the peephole. All I could see were more roses covering the delivery guys face.
I don’t think I can take anymore flowers, I thought.
Without completely thinking I opened the door ready to sign for another bouquet of flowers. As soon as I opened the door, the flowers were lowered and I was elated and dismayed all at the same time.
Rocco, smiling, pushed his way into my apartment. I slammed the door shut. With hands on my hips, I glared at him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He sat the flowers down on my table and sighed.
“Well, I’ve been calling and you’re not been answering so I thought I would come by instead.”
“With more flowers I don’t need,” I added.
“Every beautiful woman deserves a plethora of roses,” he said taking a step toward me.
I took a step back.
“You’re the master of cheesy lines,” I quipped.
“Darling, putting my ‘cheesy lines’ aside. I came here and have been calling you because I want to apologize.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t waste your time,” I began. “I get it. You didn’t want your brother to know about me because you’re either not that serious about us or you’re ashamed to be with a black woman…”
He raised his hand to stop me.
“Hold up!” he exclaimed. “Why must you put race in this? I am not ashamed to be with a black woman. I am offended that you would even think that about me or that my family would disapprove of it.”
I could tell he was really angry at my words. His brown eyes were dark and his brow was wrinkled.
“I’m sorry I said that. I’ve had bad experiences in the past with my race being a sticking point with white men. But there is a reason you didn’t want your brother to see me. You can be honest. You’re not that serious about me. You don’t care about me as much as I care about you. I love you.”
I felt a heavy weight lift off my shoulders. I had finally told him the truth. I loved him. Instantly, however, I felt exposed and vulnerable. I told him I loved him and now he was looking at me like he pitied me. His eyes softened and he cocked his head to the side.
“Look,” I said. “I know you don’t feel the same way. It’s fine.”
He walked over to me and closed the gap between us. He grabbed my arms and pulled my body against his. Then he leaned down and kissed me. He pulled back still holding on to me.
“Kid,” he began. “You don’t have to hide how you feel. It only makes you crazy.”
He ran his fingers along my cheek.
“I don’t want to make you crazy, but I don’t plan to let you go anytime soon.”
He leaned down and kissed me again. This time more passionately. He pulled back.
“You are right. I am not where you are in this relationship. But what I feel for you is growing and I want to explore that without my neurotic, overbearing family getting in the way.”
I knew a thing or two about overbearing families. My parents and my brother were pretty invasive in my life. It was one of the reasons I moved so far away from them. Yet, my feelings were still a little hurt. I was encouraged, however, about his admission. He wanted to see how far our relationship could go.
He grabbed me by the hand and led me over to the couch.
“Have a seat, sweetheart, I want to apologize.”
I sat down on the couch, thinking, Just say sorry and fuck me already!
He kneeled down in front of me and began to pull down my pajama bottoms.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m apologizing,” he said.
He pulled off my pants and then began to pull off my panties. He tossed them both to the side and the returned his focus to me.
He lifted my legs onto his shoulders and buried his head between my dark chocolate thighs. When his tongue made contact with my pussy, I threw my head back and let out a loud moan. His hands caressed my legs and thighs as his tongue swirled around my clit. My hands came to his head and I gently pushed a little further downward.
To tease me, he pulled back and began to lay kisses on my thighs. He would nip at a spot with his teeth then lick away the sting.
“Just make me come!” I demanded trying to maneuver his head and mouth back on task. He reached up and grabbed my hand. He sat up and stared at me.
“Be patient, kid. You’ll get what you want soon enough.”
He let my hand go and I allowed him to finish teasing me. Don’t get me wrong. It felt so good. My throbbing clit was begging for his touch. Finally he went back to work eating me. I was so close to coming. It took everything I had to fight the urge to play with my own pussy and igniting that fire all on my own.
He licked up from my wet hole to my clit and back down again making me shudder with jolts of pleasure as they ripped through my body. I closed my eyes letting my mind wander to the last time we made love. My breathing was labored as I thought of him pounding me hitting my g-spot just right.
My body went rigid and my breath caught in my throat as I came hard against his mouth.
“Oh god, Oh god!” I moaned as my orgasm surged.
He continued to lick me tasting my cum, sucking me dry. I grunted as his tongue ran across my sensitive clit.
“Stop! Stop!” I pleaded unable to take it any longer.
He grabbed my pajama bottoms from the floor and wiped his mouth. Then he looked at me with a Cheshire cat-like grin.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
With my breathing starting to come back to normal, I replied,