One Better Page 4

  Even as a child she’d suffered at Spice’s hand; Spice had always whipped her harder than Mink, had always yelled at her louder.

  “Your truths are not my truths,” Sterling had told Spice when, at sixteen, she’d questioned her about the unfairness she experienced during her childhood. Spice disagreed with Sterling’s version and told her that it was all in her imagination. But Sterling believed her mother was lying. Through her teens she drew away from her mother and sister. Once her stepfather, David, was gone, she was left all alone.

  The degree in architecture she sought was Spice’s vision, not hers. Her only aspiration was to be part of a loving family.

  Was having a goal so important in life? Did it say who you were or give your life meaning? She didn’t understand her mother’s and sister’s obsessions with their goals, which only underscored how she felt that she just didn’t fit in, that she wasn’t a part of anybody. She had just herself, but she was determined to make that enough.

  “I hate you, Spice,” Sterling whispered as she stared down at the tarot cards.

  She didn’t want to be alone tonight. Tossing aside the cards, she picked up the telephone. On a whim, she called Travis Foxx and invited him over. Travis had come on to her often, and now was as good a time as any to find out if he could be a possible diversion when Bennie wasn’t available.

  * * *

  By the time the doorbell had rung for the second time, Sterling had gotten her fix and was floating.

  Wearing a gold satin hostess gown cut low in the front and high on the sides, Sterling fluffed her hair before opening the door. “Won’t you come in, Travis.” There was a playful sexiness in her voice that he couldn’t miss.

  Travis kicked the snow from his feet, handed her a package, and stepped inside. “Nice place,” he said, looking around, then handing her his coat. He removed his shoes, even though she hadn’t asked, and sat on the sofa.

  “Suppose we make a drink first. Is the bar that way?” he asked, pointing toward the kitchen.

  “Mm-hm. Glasses on the top right-hand shelf.” She opened the package. “How’d you know?” There was a fifth of Courvoisier inside.

  “Wild guess.” After he prepared his drink, he offered to freshen the one she held in her hand, then joined her on the sofa.

  “I was glad to get your call. I’ve thought of calling before, but it was never the right time,” he said, handing her the glass.

  She smiled. “I’m flattered.” She clinked glasses with him, took a sip, then picked up the tarot cards. Turning her head to the side, she watched him ease comfortably back against the fullness of the sofa, stretching out his legs. After shuffling the cards, she placed them in the center of the table. “Has anyone looked into your future lately?”

  With his eyes fastened boldly on her exposed breasts, Travis leaned forward, picked up the cards, and shuffled them again. “How about if I read yours?”

  “I’d enjoy that.”

  “Of course, you might not like my way,” he said, forming the cards into three piles, “but I think it’s effective.” He smiled. “I bet you’ve got all the cards memorized.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.” He looked her directly in the eyes. “It’s not good to memorize the cards. You can interpret the meaning wrong.”

  “How so?”

  Travis drew the first card; it was the Death card. “Don’t get so defensive,” he said, watching her eyes grow round. “I told you, when you memorize the meaning of cards, you don’t get an accurate interpretation of what’s happening. This tells you what kind of vibrations are going on in a person’s life—the changes that are taking place.” He placed more cards around it. “Let’s see.”

  “What is it?” she asked quickly.

  “It seems that you’re in for a change in your love life. And . . . and in your work life.”

  “I’m not employed.”

  “And . . . yes . . . you need to change that flippant attitude of yours and be more serious.”

  Sterling laughed lightly. “No card says that.” Then she decided to observe him in silence. She could tell a lot about Travis by the way he moved his body while he talked, the way he let his eyes linger a second too long.

  An hour later Travis had shown his avid pupil two more spreads, the Celtic Cross and the Diamond, which Sterling preferred over her simpler version.

  “My, that’s interesting,” she said to Travis, staring boldly at his crotch as she moved closer to him on the couch.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That double-barrel shotgun you’re carrying between your legs,” she said. “Is it loaded?”

  “Always,” he confirmed with a smile. With the tips of his fingers, he gently lifted her head at the same moment he lowered his, and their lips met in a kiss.

  Sterling broke away, picked up the tumbler of Courvoisier and ice, and after pressing it against her lips, moved it down her neck to her breasts, then stopped, letting the wet moisture from the glass coat the swell of her cleavage. Seeing that she’d gotten his full attention, she slowly untied the gold satin gown, revealing her nude body underneath.

  No more words were needed. Travis reached out and caressed the beautiful breasts that peaked and strutted proudly before him. With a sultry smile on her lips, Sterling drew his head against her breast and felt his cool lips encircle her nipple.

  Pushing her back on the sofa, he kissed her, sliding his tongue inside her hot mouth. Hearing a low moan from the back of her throat, Travis ran his tongue over her lips, then her breasts, indulging himself in the softness of her flesh, kneading, sucking each breast until he heard a pleased sigh escape from her lips.

  “Mmm, you smell like heaven,” he whispered in her ear. “As fresh and fragrant as the breath of an angel.”

  Sterling blushed, then giggled to herself. Damn! That sounds good. How’d you think of that shit?

  Cupping her head with one hand and kissing her, he reached down to tease the tight curls of her womanhood, then eased two fingers into the warm center. She gasped, then, with her hands pressed against his, guided him to push farther, deeper. She felt her clitoris swelling; her legs became rigid, and the back of her throat went bone dry as his fingers moved in and out, out and in, until she felt her muscles grabbing, tugging him back inside.

  Her first orgasm was as if the sweet earth had floated out to sea on a warm, gentle wave. She didn’t care if she drowned.

  Travis reached behind him and grabbed one pillow and then another, pushing each beneath Sterling’s hips.

  Not a word was spoken between them; their heated breathing was their only communication.

  Travis spread Sterling’s legs wide, kissing her belly, running his hands all over her thighs. Desire rose up in her as he moved his head down. Sliding both hands on the sides of her hips, he pulled her closer toward him. His tongue outlined the fluffy triangle, making lazy circles, tickling the tiny gem. Hearing her breathing quicken, he plunged his tongue inside.

  Delirious with need, Sterling reached out and clutched the back of his head. She felt a tingling warmth travel from her abdomen to her inner thighs. Moaning with pleasure, she pumped her hips toward the pressure of his throbbing tongue. A flame shot through her. She was on fire.

  Her small jewel began to tingle, then tighten. Suddenly she felt a sweet deliciousness take her over. She shivered. Her body felt as if it were levitating, riding on the crest of clouds until it floated downward, slowly, and slower, until she felt as if she’d disappeared.

  Wanting to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her, she guided his head back to her mouth. Matching the intensity of his kisses with her own, she reached down and pressed a damp hand against his hardness. Sterling unzipped Travis’s pants, releasing his swollen member. With the heat of his penis in the palm of her hand, she stroked him up and down, feeling his vein throb, then feeling it harden and melt little drops of semen on her nimble fingers.

  The thirst of her desire was so high, she felt punished
by it and nearly ripped Travis out of his clothing. Every inch of his chest was covered with thick chestnut hair. “Mmmm,” said Sterling, licking her lips and finally breaking the silence between them. “I can’t wait.” She kissed the burgundy nipples peaking out beneath his chest hair and stroked the hardness pressing against her thighs. How desperately she wanted to kiss him below, to taste the tangy fluid oozing from the tip and taunt him with her hot tongue.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked.

  “This way,” she said, taking his hand. She led Travis through the darkened hall and into the ivory blackness of her bedroom. Opening the drapes, she let the light of the moon flood the room. After pulling back the sheets, she lay back and reached for him.

  “Wait,” he said, sliding on the condom.

  Seconds later he lay on top of her, his eyes searching her face, his chest against her full breasts. The closeness of their young bodies felt like completion, until he entered her, stretching himself deep inside until he felt her vagina contract.

  Sterling stiffened.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No,” she whispered. It hurts! she wanted to scream. He was much larger than Bennie and the other men she had known. Instead she said in a husky whisper, “Your cock makes me so hot, I can’t hardly stand it. I want to fuck you all night.”

  “Damn, baby, I’m about to come.” Travis pulled back, waiting until his passion subsided, controlling his breathing, then began again.

  She bit her bottom lip as he plunged deeper and deeper inside her. Oh, God, she thought, it’s gotta stop hurting in a minute. Just relax.

  He found her mouth once again, and she could taste the light tang of whiskey as his tongue traced her lips, softly parting and then swiftly surging inside. The pain finally subsided. Pleasure suffused her thoughts as liquid love lubricated her vagina.

  Travis seemed mesmerized by Sterling’s eyes. He looked almost grateful, pleading, as he weaved in and out, stroking her and simultaneously stimulating her clitoris. She smiled and stroked his buttocks with her long nails, reaching down to tease his testicles, then finding his anus and gently rubbing it until he moaned.

  Something clicked. Her moist palms touched him everywhere, her mouth opened at the curve of his neck, licking, sucking. By the time Travis had gotten his second orgasm, and she’d sworn that she’d gotten her third, his penis was still as hard as marble.

  “Mmm,” he said, turning her buttocks around and entering her from behind. “Yeah, baby,” he said, stroking. “Ain’t that good?”

  “I can’t hardly stand it, it’s so good, baby,” she said through gritted teeth.

  As he propelled his pelvis forward more and more sharply, he gave out small cries until suddenly he thrust fiercely and came. The sounds he emitted were louder, whining, nearly sobbing, and he stayed drooped over Sterling like a wilted flower, heaving, his wet face against her pale back.

  When he finally eased himself out of her, he fell onto his back, sinking his head back against the soft pillows.

  “That was great,” she breathed. Sterling straddled Travis’s sweat-soaked body and kissed the glistening hairs on his chest. “Am I better than Spice?” She felt him flinch before he spoke.

  “Say what?”

  Her high was wearing off by then, and even though she had thoroughly enjoyed having sex with Travis, it somehow didn’t compare to what she felt when she was with Bennie. In a way, it was too easy: no meat, just heat.

  Maybe she could still have a little fun. She reached for him, her eyes penetrating his, and pressed him back inside her. “Tell me that I’m better than she is.” She worked her pelvis and squeezed until she felt him stretching himself deeper and deeper inside her. “I want to know,” she demanded. “Am I better?”

  “Yes,” he said, but she felt his interest dwindle. He slapped the back of her buttocks gently and lifted her small body to lie beside him. “Mind if I sleep for a few minutes before I go?” He yawned.

  “You don’t have to leave.” She stroked his shoulder and wedged her chin along the side of his neck. “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “No thanks.” He pulled the sheet to his waist. “I just need thirty minutes”—he yawned again—“then I’ll be fine.”

  “Sure, take all the time you need,” she said, watching him close his eyes.

  In twenty seconds he was asleep. His soft snore was a pleasant sound, she thought. If she’d loved him, it would be sweet music breathed softly into the ear of her dreams.

  While he dozed, she thought again of Bennie, her lover who never once thought of protecting her by using a condom. She sighed as she slipped into a kimono and, after watching the tempo of Travis’s even breathing, left the room.

  Her hands shook as she scavenged the bathroom for her heroin. Finding it, she took a sniff, then washed her face with ice cold water. She stood against the sink, gripping the sides. In minutes she felt the wave of pleasure flow through her body. When she released her hands, she could barely feel the tips of her fingers. She stared at them stupidly, then laughed.

  She sat on the closed toilet seat, and though she tried to resist, her mind floated back to that afternoon. What happened to the love? she thought. What happened to the beauty of a family?

  She remembered how many nights as a young child she’d listened to David telling her an old nursery rhyme when he put her to bed.

  The family is like a book—the children are the leaves, the parents the covers. At first the pages of the book are blank and purely fair, but time soon writeth memories and painteth pictures there. Love is the little golden clasp that bindeth up the trust. Oh, break it not, lest all the leaves shall scatter and be lost.

  Minute by minute her naked body, and second by second her naked heart, felt the oncoming coldness from the eyes, the voice, the feelings of a single touch, by a woman she’d grown to hate as much as love. The floating vision of Spice appeared before her, then disappeared and left her feeling the chill of abandonment.

  Sterling was unaware of how long she had been sitting there when the ringing of the doorbell made her get up.

  “Just a minute,” she called out.

  It was just past eleven o’clock and she was hoping that it was Bennie so she could make him a little jealous. She mussed her hair a bit more, then opened the door.

  “What took you so long coming to the door?” Spice said, wiping her feet on the rug and looking around Sterling’s apartment. Her hooded black velvet cape swirled around her. “And your hair—” She stopped.

  “Have a seat.” Sterling’s first thought was the rush she would feel if her mother found Travis in her bed.

  The large room was spotless, except for the cards and a pile of clothes falling off the sofa and onto the floor in front of it. Spice walked over to the black leather chair across from the sofa and sat down. She then said, “I came to apologize.”

  “Why? Just because you’re totally wrapped up in your own needs and refuse to consider anyone’s feelings? What’s new about that, Spice?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I don’t have time for this shit tonight. Let’s drop it, okay? It’s late. Why didn’t you phone first? I could have saved you a trip.”

  When Spice reached down to pick up the cards, her cape fell open, revealing white satin pajamas underneath. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, pressing the pajama top closed with nervous fingers. She spoke each word carefully. “I want to put this mess—”

  “This really isn’t a good time.” Sterling arranged the cards in a pile on the table, then stumbled on the corner of the couch as she reached down to gather up the strewn pieces of clothing. “I’ve got company,” she said pointedly.

  “I see.”

  Sterling sniffed. “Look, I’m thinking I’m done with school. I’d like to work off the books for Zuller.” Her words were somewhat slurred when she continued, “It’s pointless for me . . .” She stopped. “Did you say something?”

  “No. But it’s somewhat
difficult for me to believe that Zuller would still consider hiring you after you blew off the museum designs.”

  Laughing, Sterling said, “Didn’t Paul Zuller tell you why we didn’t finish the plans?” Paul Jr. had fired Sterling without his dad’s permission before the design was even started; he’d caught her using drugs on company property. It took a bit of cunning, but she’d fixed Junior’s butt but good. She giggled to herself as she remembered Paul Sr. getting high with her; but later his wrinkled body had ridden on top of her, and that was disgusting. After that, she couldn’t face the museum’s plans anyway. “Whatever—school’s out.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Sterling.”

  “I thought everyone had concluded by now that I am a mistake.” Her voice was slurred, but the bitterness in her words was clear.

  Spice swallowed hard and picked up her purse to leave. Wrapping the cloak around her shapely frame, she moved toward the door. “Please think about it, Sterling,” she pleaded. Slowing her steps as she spotted the familiar coat on the chrome stand by the door, she turned back around to face her daughter. Her voice was filled with regret. “He’s not good enough for you, Sterling.”

  “How would you know?” Sterling cocked her head to the side and frowned at her mother. “Tell me, Spice, did you enjoy sampling the hired help? I’ve been told you’re not as good as—”

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” Spice turned to leave. “Do you enjoy behaving like a common whore?”

  Tears bubbled up in Sterling’s eyes. She balled her fists, and her knuckles whitened. “Like mother, like daughter,” she said.

  Spice faced her, stunned. “Stop it!” she screamed. “Coming here was a mistake. I’m leaving.”

  “Oh, don’t leave now. The show’s just starting.” Sterling pushed her mother’s stiff body back down in the chair. “I mean don’t you fucking move!”

  Spice froze, shocked by her daughter’s sudden rage.

  Sterling giggled, then the expression on her face turned serious. Placing both hands on the chrome arms of the chair, she was face-to-face with her mother. “Yeah. I know all about you. Those lies you’ve been telling us for years. And that bullshit about your mother passing for white somewhere in Tennessee—the one who supposedly looks just like me?” She spat out, “Ha!” She shifted her weight, watching Spice intently. “Remember that damn picture you cut out of the newspaper of the woman who resembled you so much—the one you told Mink and me was your mother?”She threw up her hands when Spice lowered her head. “Look at me. I’m talking to you!” she screamed. “My God, how could you lie to us like that?” Sterling stepped back, puffing wildly, one hand on her hip. “I didn’t believe a word of that shit. Neither did David. He told me he only hired the private detective because he felt sorry for you. He never believed that he could find a woman that’s been missing for nearly forty years.”