Authors: Zuri Day
Lovin' Blue (6 page)
11
Jansen hadn't intended to play the role of voyeur. He'd waited until eight-thirty, and when he still heard no sounds coming from Eden's room, he'd knocked on the door. No answer. Again, a little louder. Still nothing. He'd almost pounded his fist against the wood, but something stopped him. A memory. And then more. With a wicked smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye, Jansen had eased open the door and crept inside with the stealth of a panther, intent on scaring the living daylights out of Eden as he'd done countless times in their childhood. He'd almost laughed out loud as he'd eyed Eden's fully covered body in a round heap near the center of the mattress. She still slept as he'd remembered, with the sheet pulled all the way over her head, even in summer, as it was now. It had felt like he was seven again, when he'd placed the plastic eyeball in the bottom of her oatmeal, or ten, when he'd played the prank that had almost made his grandmother pull a switch off the tree. With the observational development honed when one's life depended on it, Jansen quickly scanned the room and took in the reason for Eden's deep slumberâa near-empty wine bottle standing next to a partially eaten bowl of popcorn. An
O
magazine shared space on the nightstand, its cover partially hidden by an open DVD case.
Boyz in the Hood.
Jansen smiled.
Oh, so you're going down memory lane, too, huh?
The menacing smile returned as he took one step toward his prey, and then another. Then something happened. Eden turned over.
O
magazine shared space on the nightstand, its cover partially hidden by an open DVD case.
Boyz in the Hood.
Jansen smiled.
Oh, so you're going down memory lane, too, huh?
The menacing smile returned as he took one step toward his prey, and then another. Then something happened. Eden turned over.
The delectable picture she painted stopped him in his tracks. Her thick black hair lay splayed across the stark, white pillows, a hint of something soft and pink peeking out from the top of the sheet while a long, darkly tanned leg peeked out from the bottom. Long eyelashes formed a shadow on her upper cheeks, and when she moved her head and licked her lips, years of abject discipline through his years of martial arts were the only reason Jansen didn't grow hard. He knew he needed to break the spell she seemed to be weaving around him, knew he should shout her name or clear his throat or in some way make his presence known, but Jansen couldn't seem to stop staring at her. Usually when they encountered each other, it was among a swirl of activity or argument. Now, with Eden quietly uninhibited, he was able to study a face that for years he'd all but ignored, surprised and awed that he could have missed something so exquisite growing up in his own backyard. Jansen knew it was time to wake Eden before he did something he wanted to do even though it was totally irrationalârun his tongue up the length of her creamy, dark caramel leg to the treasure that lay hidden beneath five hundred threads of Egyptian cotton.
“Eden!” Jansen barked as if he were preparing to issue a military order.
Eden frowned, moaned, and turned over.
“C'mon, now. Off your butt and on your feet!”
“Go away,” Eden growled while pulling the sheet over her head.
“Not a chance,” Jansen replied as he headed to the window. Waves of sunshine poured into the room's east-facing glass. “No one told you to play the wino role last night,” Jansen scolded as he yanked the sheet away from Eden's face.
“Boy, I'm not playing.” Once again, Eden disappeared under cotton. “You have no business in here. Get out of my room!”
Jansen adopted his trademark wide-legged stance. He scowled down at the prone form that dared defy him. “Last week I let you off easy. We ran only one mile. You promised that this week you'd give me two.”
Silence.
“You've got three seconds to take that sheet off your face, or I'm picking you up and dumping you into a cold shower. One . . .”
Eden stifled a groan. She knew he would do it.
“Two . . .”
“Jansen, get out of my room. I'm not running anywhere.”
“Maybe not next week, but you're running today. A promise is a promise.”
Eden released the groan this time but didn't uncover her head. “Fine! I'll be down in a minute.”
“Uh-uh. I remember your minutes. Like when me and Michael had to wait to walk you home because Tanesha Brown was gonna beat you up for talking about her mama. You told us you'd be out in âjust a minute,' and we almost missed practice waiting on your scared behind.” Without further warning, Jansen closed the distance between him and the bed, scooped up Eden, and headed to the shower.
“Jansen!” Eden screamed, fighting to release the left arm entwined in the sheet while her right arm flailed awkwardly against a hard-as-steel chest. “Put me down!”
Jansen allowed Eden's feet to touch the floor but still held a firm arm around her waist as he reached over and turned on the water. He tried not to focus on the softness of the body squirming against his hard, lean frame, tried not to feel the silky hair brushing against his bare skin.
Eden finally worked her arm out of the sheet, but the cotton bunched in and around her legsânot to mention Jansen's viselike arm gripâstill made quick flight impossible. She focused all her attention on his long, thick fingers, trying to pry them away from her waist. In the tousling that ensued, the pink strap of her lingerie top worked its way off her shoulder.
Jansen was secretly amused at Eden's valiant attempts to free herself. “You might as well quit squirming, girl, and get ready for this cold shâ” The rest of the words faded from his lips as Jansen turned to Eden. His eyes were quickly drawn from her face to the black, hard, perfectly formed areola that, with each deep breath, peeked out of Eden's top. In a matter of seconds, he took in the creamy caramel skin surrounding this flawless rendition of a chocolate kiss, allowed his eyes to travel to the indentation of her collarbone, to the slightly parted lips that had tempted him for days. His gaze moved to Eden's darkened eyes, and he knew that she, too, had felt the shiftâthat the mood had gone from playful to passionate. He wasn't even aware that his arm was moving until his finger reached out and lightly flicked Eden's nipple just before his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss.
Eden barely had time to breathe, much less think. At first, all she could do was feelâJansen's solidly sculpted body pressed against hers, the long, thick evidence of his desire pressing into her stomach. His other hand slid down and cupped her derriere, pressing her into his hardness. Her mouth had opened of its own accord and welcomed his tongue, swirling, probing, claiming . . . once, and again. A slight whimper escaped when Jansen deepened the kiss while teasing Eden's nipple into further hardness with his thumb, mimicking the same swirling motion of his tongue in her mouth.
Oooo, Jansen. This feels so good, your tongue in my mouth.
Slowly thoughts began to seep through her haze of desire.
Jansen's tongue in my . . . wait! This isn't supposed to happen. This can't happen!
It took all the strength she could muster, but Eden broke the kiss and pushed away from the chest that she could feel forever. “Stop. We can't. . . .” Eden took in deep gulps of air, still reeling from the intensity of her body's reaction to Jansen's touch.
Slowly thoughts began to seep through her haze of desire.
Jansen's tongue in my . . . wait! This isn't supposed to happen. This can't happen!
It took all the strength she could muster, but Eden broke the kiss and pushed away from the chest that she could feel forever. “Stop. We can't. . . .” Eden took in deep gulps of air, still reeling from the intensity of her body's reaction to Jansen's touch.
Jansen was trying to recover as well. His heart was pounding as if he'd run ten miles, and one very specific muscle was aching for a release that even a marathon couldn't provide. In this moment, Jansen knew there was only one thing, only one person who could give him what his body craved, and her name was Eden. And in this moment of stark realization, he swore to have her.
Jansen thought these thoughts even as he sought to diffuse the current tension. The time for the inevitable would come soon enough. “What, baby girl? Can't take the heat?”
“I can't believe you did that,” Eden snapped, thankful she could breathe again. “I haven't even brushed my teeth!”
“It's a good thing my breath is fresh enough for the both of us then, huh?”
“Move out of my way. You're disgusting.” Eden pushed past Jansen and tested the water still running into the tub.
“If you're not downstairs in ten minutes, I'm coming back up here.” Jansen's eyes narrowed as he gave Eden the once-over from head to toe. “And if I do, I promise you we'll still get our workout on, but running won't have anything to do with it.”
12
“You still got a crush on Morris Chestnut?” Jansen asked. He and Eden were in the living room, eating on TV trays and checking out the movie she'd rented last night but hadn't watched.
“Naw,” Eden answered before putting a forkful of the fluffy vegetable omelet she'd prepared into her mouth. “He hasn't been my main squeeze since
The Best Man.”
The Best Man.”
“I remember you cried like a baby during that scene from
Hood
when he gets shot,” Jansen teased. “You would have thought the brothah really died.”
Hood
when he gets shot,” Jansen teased. “You would have thought the brothah really died.”
“I was heartbroken, that's no lie. It even took me a while to warm back up to Ice Cube. Even though his character's finger didn't pull the trigger, it was because of Doughboy's thuggish behind that Ricky took a bullet.”
“Boo-hoo,” Jansen mimicked, clutching his heart and leaning sideways. “They shot him! Why'd they have to shoot him! It was you and . . . What was your friend's name?”
“Who? Oh, Chandra. Chandra Brockman. Wow, I haven't thought about her in years. Wonder where she is?” Eden sipped Jansen's freshly squeezed orange juice while she pondered the whereabouts of one of her former best friends.
Jansen bit into a tender sausage. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Eden didn't make a big deal about his pig consumption, though she had warned him not to fry the links in her newly purchased stainless steel. “I'm surprised y'all didn't stay in touch.”
“Me, too. We were thick as thieves until she and her family moved to St. Louis. We kept in touch for a while. Then she got pregnant andâ”
“Chandra had a baby?” Somehow Jansen just couldn't see the fly-girl chick with the sassy mouth taking care of a child.
“At least three, from what I heard. She and I lost contact, but I ran into another classmate around my sophomore or junior year of college and found out she was married with children, and a preacher's wife at that.”
“You're lying!” Jansen exclaimed. It was no secret that half the basketball team had slept with Chandra, and the other half had wanted to. Jansen wasn't proud of the fact that both he and Eden's brother, Michael, had been on the receiving team, on more than one occasion. He wondered if Eden knew this but quickly decided against asking her. Some things, he deduced, were best left in the past. “Wow, I guess anybody can change,” he finished, an opinion formed by firsthand experience. He'd given up his player card when he got married and hadn't renewed it since getting divorced.
Between scenes of Furious Styles teaching life lessons to his sons, and the streets conducting classes of their own, Jansen and Eden took another stroll down memory lane. Eden learned things she'd never known, like how Jansen's grandmother had “cured” his stuttering by forcing him to take a breath between each word when he spoke to her. Jansen laughed, recalling how it would sometimes take him five minutes to ask if he could ride his bike to the store for chips and candy. One day, he explained, he woke up and simply didn't stutter anymore. Another surprise was the fact that Jansen had actually been a preemie baby, and spent his first couple years in and out of hospitals. Eden took in the picture of health sitting next to her, the well-defined this and ridiculously buffed that, and found it impossible to put
Jansen
and
frail
in the same sentence, even one describing a premature child.
Jansen
and
frail
in the same sentence, even one describing a premature child.
The credits rolled, and Jansen and Eden enjoyed a companionable silence. Neither wanted to acknowledge how right it felt spending time together and how much they enjoyed each other's company. Jansen clicked the screen from DVD to TV. A woman's hands swam onto the screen, rubbing parts of her body as she advertised a lotion that was “soft as satin.”
Eden's body is as soft as satin, and as rich as silk.
Jansen remembered how good she'd felt up against him, even as his fingers itched to once again squeeze her round booty. Eden's thoughts were similar, recalling the swirl of Jansen's tongue in her mouth, and imagining how it would feel on her nipple . . . and elsewhere. . . .
Eden's body is as soft as satin, and as rich as silk.
Jansen remembered how good she'd felt up against him, even as his fingers itched to once again squeeze her round booty. Eden's thoughts were similar, recalling the swirl of Jansen's tongue in her mouth, and imagining how it would feel on her nipple . . . and elsewhere. . . .
“You know what?”
“Hey, remember that timeâ”
Both spoke at once and then broke out in nervous laughter.
“What?” Jansen asked.
“No, you go ahead,” Eden encouraged.
“All right. I was just remembering you and the frog.” Eden picked up a pillow from the couch and flung it at Jansen's head. It caught the side of his ear before sliding to the floor. “C'mon, now! I apologized for that!”
Eden picked up another pillow and this time held it in both hands as she playfully pummeled him. “I'd never been so scared in my life! You almost made me have a heart attack!”
Jansen couldn't defend himself for laughing. “Girl, I never saw anybody move so fast in my life. You ran out of your bedroom, barefoot, through the living room . . . and I think you were halfway down the block before your dad finally caught up with you to find out what was wrong. You woke up half the neighborhood that night.”
“Thanks to you. I'll never forget the feel of that slimy creature on my leg. I'd just gotten that baby-doll nightie, feeling all grown up with my legs bare, a departure from my cotton pj sleeping attire.”
“That's why I knew it would work so well. You came prancing out of the room, thinking you were cute.”
“Knowing I was.”
“Me and Michael had found the frog earlier that day, came home, and made a little cage with some grass and a shoe box.”
“I knew something was going on, but when I tried to come into the roomâ”
“We'd put it on lockdown!”
“I knew y'all were up to something.”
“And I knew that if I bided my time, and played it coolâ”
“I'd drop my guard. By the time I went to bed that night, I'd forgotten all about your sneaky behavior.”
“Mama! Daddy!” Jansen screeched, in the high-pitched voice of panic he remembered Eden using. “It's in my bed! Something's in my bed! Argh!” Jansen began to laugh so hard it became difficult to breathe. “That scream rivaled those you hear in horror movies. And all you could see was this blur of pink, yellow, and braids fly through the house!”
“I felt like I was in a horror movie, believe that,” Eden said, her own laughter threatening to erupt. “I was barefoot, but I don't remember my feet touching the ground.”
“They probably didn't!”
Finally Eden couldn't hold it any longer, and soon her chortles joined Jansen's guffaws. “You know what,” she continued, wiping away tears. “I never got you back for all that stuff you did to me. And just so you know, payback can happen at any moment.”
“And just so you know, a J-styled prank can happen at any time. You might want to check between the sheets before getting into bed at night.”
“You wouldn't dare.”
“Wouldn't I?” Jansen's smile was brilliant and totally mesmerizing.
“No, you wouldn't.” Eden stood, reached for their dishes, and walked into the kitchen. Her thoughts were definitely of somethingâcorrection, someoneâbeing in her bed that night. This thought alone almost made her run screaming out of the house again.
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