Sparks Fly Read online

  Sparks Fly

  Nicole Falls

  Copyright © 2017 Nicole Falls

  Cover art by Voldemort

  Image Credit: Cristian Escobar via unsplash.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real locations, people, or events is coincidental, and unintentional.

  Acknowledgements

  Christina: You prolly gon get an acknowledgement in everything I write, my G. Thank you for your mentorship…LMAO!

  Sarah: Thank you for helping me do away with my social media and hitting me with the (not so gentle) words of encouragement needed to finally finish this collection.

  The Manse!: For being a beacon of light in my life every day. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have y’all giving me so much daily.

  Jillian, Shana, Shauntele, & Victoria: BETA BOOS! Thank y’all for reading and giving your honest feedback. This is the beginning of a very lovely relationship!

  Ashley and Trina: For being a part of the #FallsHive street team in Atlanta and keeping me sane.

  Marshall: For being my very first customer at my very first book signing! <3

  And finally to all the readers, I hope you enjoyed reading these stories. I certainly enjoyed writing them!

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Her

  Pucker Up

  Second Time Around

  Brown Sugar

  Him

  About the Author

  HER

  I woke up to a series of lingering kisses along my collarbone before his marauding mouth moved further south taking a nipple into its warm, cavernous depth. A hard suckle capped off with a gentle bite caused me to moan as I opened my eyes to see him staring up at me.

  “Good morning,” he said, placing a kiss against the skin between my breasts before moving onto the other and giving it the spine tingling treatment he’d given its mate.

  His kisses moved further and further south until he was at my center. He paused briefly, closing his eyes and inhaling and I braced myself. He was always so reverent, tonguing me with reckless abandon—my pleasure being the solitary focus of the act. I’m sure he enjoyed himself as well if any of the sounds he made as he lapped me up were any indication. It was like my pussy was his life source as he’d spend upwards of half an hour down there, racking up orgasm after orgasm until my skin felt like it was on fire.

  I wasn’t used to this shit. We had an arrangement, an agreement that…“it would be a shame to not take advantage of our mutual attraction; so why not give in to the carnal feelings”. I was not a stranger to no strings attached sex, having preferred it for the past four years exclusively after having my heart trampled on by the man with whom I thought I would spend the rest of my earthly life. After that dude, I placed men into a category of life that was an unnecessary, but a fun diversion. I flitted from distraction to distraction every few months, none of them holding my attention much further past that point.

  But this one…I don’t even know what he’d done to me. It’s like he’d tamed me—taken down the savage beast. All I wanted to do was be around him, under him; on top of him…I just couldn’t get enough of him. I loved how he ruled me, taking command of me during our encounters, always in control. Hell, I even came differently now. Before him, I climaxed in a cacophony of sound, left with vocal cords feeling raw. Now though? Hell, sometimes, no sound came, just my mouth stretched wide and eyes rolling backwards into themselves.

  Presently, my orgasm snuck up on me before I even knew it was coming and I fell into barely intelligible whimpers and moans. When I finally came down, I made eye contact with him. He moved to my left, chin resting in his hand as he just stared at me with a look in his eye I couldn’t quite categorize.

  “Morning,” I said, a bit shyly after the staring has gone on too long for me to be comfortable with.

  “You good?”

  “Great, actually.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Mmmmhmmm.”

  “Bet I know what will make it better,” he said, picking me up to settle atop his body.

  Whatever response I had was interrupted by the loud roaring of my stomach.

  He laughed, ”After we eat?”

  “You cookin’?”

  “Am I ever not?”

  “Fair enough,” I said getting up from the bed and heading toward my bathroom, “Come on.”

  After a quick shower, I sat at the counter of my breakfast bar watching him make an egg white scrambler. He loved cooking and I loathed it, so I made sure to keep the fridge stocked when I knew he’d be coming by. Before him, I barely kept water in that damn fridge—preferring to eat out or order in. The plates and pots and pans in my house were conversation pieces via housewarming gifts, despite my mother’s insistence that I was an incomplete woman for not cooking at home. How are you going to get a husband she lamented often, refusing to accept that I didn’t desire a man for long term commitment.

  At least I didn’t until him. He allowed me to dream of possibly, maybe letting my guard down long enough to let someone in. And that scared the shit out of me, if I was being honest. So I knew our time together needed to come to an end before I fell even deeper into…whatever this feeling was that I felt for him. It was foreign and quite frankly, unwanted. Today, it had to be today, I thought as I watched him plating the breakfast and bringing it over to the counter where I sat. I quietly accepted the plate he held out to me and commenced to tucking in and eating. I kept my eyes on my plate as if the combination of eggs, veggies, and cheese was the most interesting thing I’d seen in a while. I could feel his gaze on me as I ate, but I refused to look up and give him any eye contact.

  “You’re quiet. You good over there?” he asked.

  “Yeah…I’m just…thinking…”

  “About what?”

  “Just some stuff…”

  “Are you sure everything is okay? You know we can do more than. . .you know. We’re friends, QB.”

  I smiled at his usage of the silly little nickname he gave me shortly after the first night we’d hooked up…Queen Bee. I assumed it was because I got a little too carried away that night with the shots and used a Beyoncé song as a means of seduction via karaoke. Not one of my finer moments.

  “…about that…” I started.

  “What? We not friends? Is that not what the F in this FWB situation stands for? I’m appalled! You just using me for my mans down there. Woooooow, really, QB?”

  I looked up to see a playful expression on his face as he teased. God, he was so handsome. Deep brown skin, warm expressive eyes that currently sparkled with humor, a distinctly Negro nose, cavernously deep dimples, full lips, and a beard that was the epitome of the softest place to land.

  “No, no…we are friends. It’s just…I might need a bit of a friendship break.”

  “Oh.”

  With that one word his expression changed rather quickly. His eyes went from mischievous to shuttered.

  “It’s nothing…you didn’t…I just need some time and some space. This…we…it’s just that this is all getting a little intense for me. Like…we’re together a lot. And don’t get me wrong…it’s fun. So much fun. But I just…need a little breather.”

  The more I kept talking, the darker his face got, so I decided to just shut up. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes and I kinda wanted to play it all off. Throw on a quick smile and a giggle and tell him that I was just joking, but I didn’t…couldn’t. I could tell that he felt this came out of nowhere and was probably a little upset and confused, but I knew above all else
self-preservation was key. And until I figured out whatever I was feeling for him, I couldn’t keep on like this.

  “Oooookay…well I’ll just gon ahead and get up outta here then. See you when I see you, I guess?” he said, moving quickly from the breakfast bar to my bedroom to put on his clothes.

  I moved to follow him, but I didn’t know if that was wise. I didn’t trust myself to have the will power to let him go so I could figure this all out on my own.

  ***

  “You know you’re a dummy, right?” my best friend Mia asked.

  “Damn sis, hold back a little.”

  “If you wanted someone to hold back, you would have talked to Danie about this. But instead you came to me, so I know you wanted the real. So I’m giving it to you, dummy,” she shrugged.

  “I’m not gonna be too many dummies,” I said, with a bit of an edge to my voice.

  Mia rolled her eyes as she got up to go inside and retrieve another bottle of wine. We’d been sitting on my balcony, talking and drinking when she brought him up. It was only natural that he would be a topic of conversation. He and Mia’s fiancé Pierre worked together and were pretty tight outside of work as well. That’s actually how I met him. P recommended me for a consultant job at the company where they worked. I ended up being contracted for the job, working mainly with P’s group.

  When I first started at the company, I mentioned a really handsome man that I’d run into on the elevator and Mia immediately knew who I was talking about. She wanted P to set us up, but he was hella against it. He’d already lost one friend because of me, so he wasn’t risking another. Mia persisted, but I told her to let it go. Not even knowing that he’d been tryna get info about me from P. Happenstance placed us on a project together and we became cool. Real cool. I had initially decided that I didn’t wanna breach the friend zone that we’d both been so comfortable in because we did work together…even if it was tangentially. That lasted all of a few weeks before I was bold enough to ask him out for drinks which led to where we were currently.

  “So what are you gonna do?” Mia asked on her way back out to the balcony.

  “Do?”

  “Mmmmmhmmm. Do to get your man back.”

  “A—he’s not my man. Two—there’s nothing to get back. I just asked for a break. I’m sure as soon as I call or text, he’ll be Johnny on the spot. I just needed a little time is all. Shit was getting blurred.”

  Mia just stared as I rambled on. She could tell I was bullshitting. A hazard of being my friend for the past fifteen years and the main reason she was the one I was having this conversation with. I knew that most of my other friends would instantly side with me in the name of friendship. Mimi didn’t have time for sugarcoating, yes man nonsense. If she saw that I was slippin’, she was the first to tell me to tighten up.

  “Friend,” she started in a very gentle tone of voice, “can we talk about the real issue here?”

  We sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes until I finally gave in.

  “That fuckboy who shant be named is no longer a factor, Mimi. It’s been like ten years. I’m over that nigga.”

  “But he’s also the only reason you only let yourself get under other niggas. Sis…not slut shaming because get yours, but…er…ahhh…” Mia trailed off.

  “Nope, continue, but what…? I wanna hear this.”

  “You sure?”

  “Stop stalling.”

  “Okay, last chance to back out…”

  “Bitch…”

  “You letting the ghost of a nigga who wasn’t fit to pull your tampon string keep you from who could be the potential love of your life? You finna fuck up a good thing because you’re scared? You finna have my cookouts be hella awkward because you broke my husband’s best friend’s heart and I’ma have to hear about how you’re a heartless man-eater ass bitch…again? You—”, Mia paused to take a breath and I cut her off before she could finish this round of twenty questions.

  “Okay, okay I get it.”

  “Do you? Because I don’t hear you saying anything to me about what you’re gonna do.”

  “Why do I have to do anything?”

  “Because…you deserve this, sis. This man, the way he puts that light in your eye when he walks into a room, these crazy intense emotions you’re trying so hard to repress. All of it is yours, it’s right there and you’re worthy of it. So what are you gonna do, dummy?”

  I didn’t know what I was going to do. Mia lovingly berated me for about twenty more minutes before skipping outta my place saying she had a dick appointment with her baby zaddy. Swear that girl gets on my nerves. But after sitting with what she said for a while, I started feeling…a way. As much as hated that phrase there was no other way for me to describe how I was feeling exactly. I had no threshold for whatever this feeling was and I didn’t like it one bit. But what I disliked even more was how empty my life felt since his absence these past few days.

  So I decided to throw caution to the wind and reach out. I needed to see him and knew that since the playoffs were happening—and there was a game tonight—he was somewhere inside, tuned in. I knew calling during the game was a wash so I picked up my phone to shoot him a quick text. Navigating to iMessage I was paralyzed with fear. I didn’t even know how to begin. I put my phone down on the coffee table and walked away.

  Instead of calling him and saying God knows what, I decided to deep condition my hair. I whipped together a concoction of avocado, manuka honey, olive oil, and a few drops of lavender oil and applied it to my hair. I had twenty-five minutes before I needed to rinse my hair, so I decided to also use this time to try out this new meditation app, What’s Going Om? that my friend Shay had suggested to me a few weeks ago. I synched my phone to my Bluetooth speaker and selected a twenty minute guided meditation. Closing my eyes, I leaned back into the couch and let the soothing lilt of the meditation narrator’s voice clear my mind.

  ***

  A few minutes of meditation turned into a couple hour nap as I awakened with a start because my phone’s ringer was blaring through the still synched Bluetooth speaker. I grabbed my phone and saw that it was Mia calling.

  “Hey,” I answered the phone on a half yawn.

  “Hey dummy,” she responded, “Were you asleep?”

  “How long are you gonna keep this dummy thing up?”

  “How long are you gonna keep being a dummy?”

  “What do you want, man?”

  Mia giggled, “To tell you that you’ve definitely broken him, sis. Pierre said he didn’t even come by MikeMike’s to watch the game. They called him and he said he was just tryna chill, so he’d catch them for Game Six. And you know they been gathering at MikeMike’s for every game, every damn round to talk trash. So of course P called me immediately and told me to talk to you…again. Now normally I wouldn’t medd…”

  “My sweet, good sis. Please do not continue that lie…meddler is your damned middle name. Mia Meddler Malone.”

  “Well I never! Anyway dummy, you broke him. And P told me—in these exact words—the Negridow needs to cut the shit.”

  “Negridow?”

  “Negro widow, you know I finally got P on my portmanteau train!”

  “I hate you both.”

  “That’s fine because we love you…and if you don’t contact that man in the next twelve hours I am certain Pierre will personally come over and deliver a lecture and…trust me, you don’t want that—again.”

  I sighed before letting a quick giggle escape, “Listen sis, that mess with James was not even my fault. I still can’t believe Pierre came at me like that!”

  “I told you not to even get involved with him, girl. That boy is more emotional than Carl Thomas and Drake put together. I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle your ‘let’s have fun’ hoeness.”

  “Moving on…what am I even supposed to do, Mimi?”

  “Talk to him, chica. Be real, be honest, and let that man love up on you.”

  “Or get my heart dismantled…e
ither or?” I quipped.

  “Oh girl please, everybody knows that nigga is head over heels for you. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten when he hemmed up James after he tried coming at you wrong at Mama Charbonneau’s house.”

  I laughed as I recalled that night.

  Mia had invited me to a cookout at P’s mom’s house. At first I’d declined because I knew it would be awkward because of how things had ended with his cousin James. I didn’t need anything else popping off, but Pierre doubled back and insisted that I come because it was gonna be a special night. I had an inkling that something had to be up when P reached out to me to extend the invite a second time. He was going to be proposing to Mimi that night, so he wanted me in attendance. He clued me into the plans he’d made—an extra cheesy over the top, YouTube worthy proposal involving family and friends that was right up Mia’s alley. It was mostly planned but he needed my help with a few fine details. I readily agreed and we pulled everything off without a hitch.

  I had been standing off to the side post-proposal, watching P and Mia as they danced to music only the two of them could hear. They looked so good together and Pierre was so good to and for my sis, so I was ecstatic about this new permanency of their union. I knew they would be one of those disgustingly cute; Instagram hashtag relationship goals married couples. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to wonder how it would feel to be one half of a situation like that. As quickly as the thought appeared, I shook it off. My life as is was golden, didn’t need the unnecessary complication of a man tainting it.

  Continuing my perusal of the room I heard a laugh that was immediately familiar. I looked over my left shoulder and locked eyes with him. I raised my glass in acknowledgement. He nodded back. We’d just started our with benefits situation and were keeping it cool in front of everyone but Mia and P. I smiled at him, and then quickly looked away because I felt someone else’s gaze on me. I turned to my left to see James’ wack ass glare boring a hole through me.

  James had been doggedly pursuing me since the first time I met him at a function at Pierre’s house. In an instance of weakness, I had a moment with him and…you know how they say it don’t count if you don’t come? It definitely didn’t count since he came after three minutes. Obviously I didn’t want more to do with him after that and he was not pleased. Which led to me being lectured by Pierre about staying away from his guys going forward. How was I supposed to know his cousin was a two-pump chump who’d get sprung?