An Illicit Seduction: a Dark Erotic Experience Page 6

  Sierra looked at Vanessa then they both looked at Seraph and nodded. “I mean…everybody’s grown. Shit, that nigga is almost thirty. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  Sitting back in her chair, Seraph huffed out a sigh. “All jokes aside, for the obvious reasons. I mean…I was fully expecting someone to call me a nasty bitch.”

  Face pinched in disgust, Sierra rolled her eyes. “You are a nasty bitch, but not because you’re getting your back broke by your uncle’s stepson. You’re a nasty bitch because you’re standing in a puddle of jizz.”

  Eyes wide, Seraph looked down between her legs, and sure enough, the toe of her right shoe was sitting in a small puddle of what was undoubtedly Damon’s semen.

  “Holy shit!” She yanked open the same drawer of her desk that held the tissues and pulled out a package of antibacterial wipes, leaning down to mop up the stain. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered to herself.

  Sierra sucked her teeth. “I can’t believe you didn’t swallow. I’m so disappointed in you. I know for a fact that I taught you better than this.”

  Sputtering with laughter, Seraph looked at her friend and shook her head. “You’re a damn nut, you know that?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Family Matters

  “It was good of you to help Damon get on with your company. Louis said that he’d been having a hard time finding something in his field after the startup he was working for collapsed. Said he came home from Dallas with his tail between his legs. You might’ve saved his life.”

  Seraph’s eyes bucked. The very last thing she wanted to talk about was Damon. She was at her mother’s house for their weekly shared meal that Damon—thankfully—hadn’t crashed again after that first time.

  Not after he got what he wanted from her. Was still getting what he wanted.

  “Mama, all I did was mention his name to the department head. You’re acting like I hired him myself.”

  Smacking her lips, Joyce pinned her daughter with a firm stare. “No, I’m giving credit where credit is due. You told him to apply for the position, and you made sure that the hiring manager would be looking for his name. You got him the job, Seraph.”

  Eyes on her plate as she sliced into her pecan-crusted chicken breast, Seraph shook her head. Yeah, she’d done all of that before she’d known how he really was. If she could go back in time, she would have kept her mouth shut. “His education and experience got him the job.

  Joyce pursed her lips. “He never would have known about it if you hadn’t called him, and those words came straight from Damon’s mouth, thank you very much. So, all this modesty is unnecessary.” She waved her hand as if fanning away Seraph’s words.

  Mentally rolling her eyes—because although she was thirty-six, she still wasn’t bold enough to do it in her mother’s face—Seraph sighed. “Okay, Mama. I hear you.”

  With a satisfied harrumph, Joyce returned to her food, and Seraph did the same. They fell into a comfortable silence as they enjoyed the meal Joyce had prepared. After a few moments, Joyce looked up with a gleam in her eye.

  “You know,” she started, wiping her mouth with her napkin, “helping Damon out like this is only going to make his little crush on you worse.”

  Brows lifted, Seraph’s heart beat a little faster as she asked, “What you mean, Mama? Damon doesn't have a crush on me.”

  Joyce smirked. “Yes he does, and everybody knows it. That boy has been in love with you since he was twelve-years-old, and apparently, it never went away.”

  Seraph frowned and forked the last bite of her chicken into her mouth. She needed to find an emergency exit for this conversation. Whatever love her mother thought Damon felt for her was nonexistent as far she knew. What she did know was that love had absolutely nothing to do with what was between them. It was a numbers game; how many times could Damon make her come a day. She somehow both lost and won each and every time.

  “Well, if that's true, it's disgusting because when he was twelve, I was twenty-one.” Chewing, she shrugged. “But I’m sure it's not true, so it doesn't matter.”

  Joyce observed her quietly for a moment before a shrewd smirk came across her face. “Girl, I said that boy has a crush on you, and you're acting like I said you're in love with him. For all of your denying of his emotions, you're making me think you must like him too.” She sat forward in her seat. “Do you?”

  Slapping her hands on the table, Seraph sat back in her chair. “Are we in the twilight zone? Did you forget that Damon is family? He’s your nephew. My cousin. When did you become okay with incest? Who else in the family is it okay for me to be with, huh? Tell me, Mama!”

  Joyce made a loud, clucking sound, and Seraph grinned, glad to give the older woman a little of her own frustrating medicine. “Girl, don't play with me. That boy ain't no kin of yours.”

  Cocking her head to the side, Seraph blinked owlishly at her mother. “Since when? If Damon isn't my cousin, then why do I call his daddy Uncle Louis? Why does he call you Auntie Joyce? Riddle me that, Mama.”

  “Don't get smart with me, heifer. Louis is your daddy’s brother, and you know good and well that Louis married that boy’s mama when he was in elementary school. That's why you call him Uncle Louis, but there is no blood relation between you and Damon.”

  Seraph scoffed. “Blood isn’t the only thing that makes people family. You know that better than anyone with all of the men who came into our lives and called themselves my uncle after my daddy died. You gained a lot of brothers back then, or did you forget?” She quirked an eyebrow at her mother, certain that she had bested her.

  With that selfsame smirk returning to her face, Joyce sat back in her chair and shook her head before meeting her daughter’s gaze. “I would have thought you’d figured it out by now, baby.”

  “Figured out what?”

  Joyce giggled as if Seraph had told a joke instead of asked a valid question. “Seraph, I was fucking every man that called himself your uncle.”

  A strangled sound erupted from Seraph’s mouth and her eyes ballooned.

  “Mama, NO!”

  Her giggle morphing into a full-on laugh, Joyce nodded. “Oh, yes.”

  Seraph blinked rapidly as she suddenly remembered something Damon had said to her the first time they’d had sex at her apartment. She’d been adamant then that he was lying, but now that she sat across from her cackling mother, she wondered if maybe she’d just been hoping that he was lying. She cringed, already anticipating the answer to her next question.

  “Not…all of my uncles, right?”

  Throwing her head back, Joyce’s laugh seemed to grow in volume. Her shoulders shook and wiped a few tears from her eyes. Seraph sat there, her face scrunched into a pout as she waited for her mother to answer her. Finally, Joyce lowered her head and winked, looking so damn tickled that Seraph couldn’t stand it.

  “I said ‘every man’ right?”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Mmhmm. Now tell me again about your family.”

  With her argument coming to bite her in the butt, Seraph quickly shifted her focus.

  “Okay, okay. Relation aside, Mama please; he’s a child, which is why I don’t believe this mess you’re saying in the first place. If he had a crush on anyone, it would be with someone his own age. Now, can I just eat my food in peace? Please?”

  Grinning like the Cheshire cat that caught the cream, Joyce dropped her fork onto her plate and clapped her hands. “Ooh! You do like him don't you?”

  Seraph pressed her face into her hands and groaned loudly. She’d expected a nice meal with her mother, completely free from the man who was taking up residence in her mind and her bed. The jokes from her friends were funny because that’s all they were: jokes. But this? Her mother may have been smiling, but she wouldn’t say some off-the-wall stuff like this unless she genuinely didn’t have a problem with it. What was in the damn water lately?

  “You’re killing me, Mama.”

  Joyce held up her hands. “Okay, okay. I�
�ll leave it alone. All I was trying to say is that if we lived in a state that required blood testing before they issued a marriage license, you and Damon would have no problem obtaining one. Because you aren’t blood relatives. That’s all. I won’t say anything else.”

  “You’ve already said enough,” Seraph mumbled under her breath. Grabbing her glass of wine, she took a long sip to give herself time to think. What was her mother's angle? Why was she pushing this so hard all of sudden? She set the glass on the table and gave her mother her full attention.

  “Mama. This is really coming out of left field. Why do I feel like you're trying to push me on Damon? Is it him specifically, or are you trying to tell me something?”

  Her mother shrugged, clutching her own glass of wine between her fingers. “I'm just trying to help you out. You're in your thirties—in your sexual prime—and I don't want you to miss out on what could be the best time of your life just because you don't want to be in a relationship right now. I’m trying to look out for your vagina.”

  Seraph’s jaw dropped open. “Hold on a moment. Mama, are you suggesting that I use Damon… for sex?! The sweet boy that I babysat from the time I was fifteen until I left for college. Him?!”

  Joyce regarded her with wide eyes. “I'm suggesting that you use all men for sex. Any man will do since they all have the same parts; he just happens to be in close proximity and already likes you enough to eagerly volunteer for the position.”

  Conveniently ignoring the part about Damon, Seraph jerked her neck back and sat up straight in her seat. “Oh, really? Did you use my daddy for sex?”

  Joyce narrowed her eyes. “I sure did. Only, I messed around and got pregnant with you ‘cause I was too busy screwing and wasn't paying attention to my ovulation schedule.” She pursed her lips. “You were an accident.”

  Shrieking, Seraph jumped up from the table. “Mama, what the hell?!” Calling her an accident was a low blow, and Seraph didn’t know if she wanted to cry or burst into laughter.

  Her mother’s stoic expression gave way when she exploded in a peal of laughter. “Uh-huh. That's what your smart ass get.”

  Desperately needing to escape the room where so many of her mother’s words made her want to kick something, Seraph left the dining room and walked into the kitchen. She circled the room a couple of times until her head was clear—well, as clear as it could get—then returned to the table where her mother sat watching her with amusement written all over her face. She grabbed her glass of wine, lifted it to her mouth, and tilted it back, draining the remainder of its contents. When she lowered her head, she brought her eyes to a clearly tickled Joyce.

  “I should just mind my business; huh, Mama?”

  With a twinkle in her eye, Joyce smirked at her only child. “Yeah, that would be a good idea.”

  They finished their meal and carried their empty plates into the kitchen where they began to clean up. Once Seraph finished washing dishes, she turned to her mother who was wiping down the stove and counters.

  “Mommy?”

  Freezing, Joyce peered at Seraph over her shoulder. Seraph understood her reaction. It wasn’t often that she called Joyce “Mommy”. “Yes, baby?”

  “Well, since I'm minding my business, can you mind your business too?”

  Joyce gasped and dropped the rag she’d been using onto the counter, fisting her hands at her hips as she fought not to laugh. “Excuse me? I'm trying to help you find some business, little girl! All you do is work and go to brunch with your girlfriends.”

  Seraph frowned. “I happen to love my job, and I love hanging out with my girlfriends. Those two things make me happy. Is that so wrong?”

  They stared at each other for a few moments before Joyce sighed and shook her head.

  “No, there is nothing wrong with that. If you say you're happy then, as your mother, that should be my only concern.” She dropped her hands from her waist and shrugged once more. “I suppose I just expect you to be more like me and need a little clitoral stimulation every now and then.

  Seraph screamed. “Oh my God, Mama! You have got to chill out!”

  Face twisted in confusion, Joyce raised her hands in the air. “What now? I thought we were speaking candidly. Is that not what we’re doing? Did I get it wrong?”

  Seraph laughed and crossed the kitchen to wrap her mother in a hug. “No, ma’am. You’re not wrong; I just wasn’t expecting that level of candor. It’s fine, though.”

  Joyce leaned back and looked at her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I’m positive, Mama.”

  “Well, in that case, let me tell you about these adult toys I saw online since you don’t want a man right now.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Barbecue Booty

  Every spring, Joyce hosted a barbecue for friends and family. When Seraph was little, her father would grill and her mother would make all manner of side dishes. After he passed away when Seraph was twelve, Joyce assumed the grilling duties, and she taught Seraph how to prepare the sides. From then on, the two were a team, and Seraph looked forward to the barbecue every year.

  Usually, she was a wonderful co-host, making sure guests were fed and enjoying themselves and keeping glasses full of tea and whatever other beverage they had on deck for the event. She was also a server, keeping dishes full, entertainment host, distributing cards and dominoes, and Don Cornelius, starting the Soul Train line.

  This year, Damon’s presence flustered Seraph. She was on high alert, wondering what he was doing, if he was watching her, and most of all, if he was coming for her. Throughout the day, she bustled around her mother’s backyard as usual but with a line of tension drawing her shoulders up to her ears no matter how much she laughed and danced or drank.

  It was possible that she was being paranoid. Her mother’s house was full of people, including Damon’s father, Seraph’s Uncle Louis. Surely, Damon wouldn’t do anything outrageous with all of these people here. She tried to convince herself of that, but for some reason, the notion never took root.

  At one point, later that day, Seraph noticed that both bowls of chips on the table were running low. She had extras in the house and figured she could pop right in, grab them, and come back out without anyone—Damon—noticing that she had gone. She rushed into the house and stepped into her mother’s tiny, box-like pantry to find the half-empty bags of chips from earlier, and not even twenty seconds later, she felt him behind her. After two months of getting to know him intimately, his mere presence in the room made her body stand at attention, even if he was out of eyesight. This time was no different. There was no need to turn around, to call his name, to ask any questions. She knew without a doubt that it was him, and she also knew without question what he was there for.

  Stepping inside the tiny room and pulling the door closed behind him, he pressed his nose against her neck and inhaled deeply. His proximity brought a shiver, and her fingers tightened into fists to keep from reaching for him. His hands came to her hips, the heat from his flesh warming her through her clothes.

  “I went by your apartment last night. You weren’t there.”

  Her lips trembled and a soft whimper escaped her throat as he lifted the hem of her dress in the front and eased his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties.

  “I had a dinner meeting for work. Didn’t get home until late.”

  Just as his index finger slid through her folds in search of the ever-present evidence of her arousal, his tongue marked a wet trail up the side of her neck until he reached her ear. He tugged her lobe into his mouth, nibbling as he used the wetness he’d found between her folds to play with her clit.

  An involuntary shudder ripped through her body and Damon wrapped an arm around her torso in response. Bringing her body back against his, he added more fingers to the party, rubbing intently at the bundle of nerves to bring her to a quick release and kissing along her neck as she trembled in his arms, gasping his name as she came.

  Without giving her a moment to t
hink, Damon yanked her panties down and lifted her right leg, tugging her foot from the leg hole and resting it on one of the lower shelves in the pantry. He released his hold on her body for one quick moment—not even ten seconds—before grabbing her to him again and bending his knees to angle his hard dick at her opening, breaching her body in a slow intrusion that had Seraph moaning audibly, her head falling back against his shoulder.

  Once he was completely inside of her, he pushed at her back, moving her upper body away from him and shoving her face to the wall, not caring that her cheek was smashed against the rough surface. He held her there with one hand and grabbed the back of her thigh with the other, keeping her open as much as he could in the small space as he stroked in and out of her quickly. Every drag of his veined dick against her ultra-sensitive, post-orgasm walls sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, and Seraph found herself coming again, without even stimulating her clit, and holding her breath to keep from crying out loudly in the tiny box.

  Her release was followed almost immediately by Damon’s, and he molded himself to her back as he emptied into her. They stood frozen like that for a minute before he pulled out of her and crouched down. In no time, she felt gravity do its thing, but before his ejaculate could start a slow drip out of her clenching hole, he scooped two fingers into her opening and stood, bringing them to her face and pushing his come-soaked digits into her mouth.

  Greedily, she licked his release from his fingers, and once they were shiny and clean, he stepped back and tucked himself back into his pants, fixing his clothes in seconds, and wiping sweat from his brow. Heart pounding, she’d yet to pull away from the wall or even lower her leg from the shelf it was propped up on, and when she felt his eyes bore into the side of her face, she closed her own and sighed.

  “I’m coming by your place tonight. Will you be there?” It was not only a question but also a demand.

  She nodded and her nonverbal response must have been satisfying because he left the pantry, leaving the door open behind him.