The Movers Carried Out My Marriage and Stayed for a Beer novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Floor

In the morning she kneels and takes what she can of him, and asks him to say the filthiest thing he would do to her; he does, she says it is only talk and asks him to say it again.

I woke up with an arm across my ribs, heavy and warm.

Gray light came through the blinds, and the bare mattress smelled like him.

I was tangled in his arm and one of his legs with my face against his chest.

Darius was awake.

He was looking at the ceiling, waiting to be told to leave.

"Morning," I said.

"Morning, Amber." He cleared his throat quietly. "I can go. I wasn't sure what..."

"No numbers," I said. "That was the rule."

"Yeah."

"So don't ask for mine."

He turned his head, slowly, and reached over me for the phone on the floor.

He held it up in front of my face.

The contact at the top of his screen said AMBER (BEER), and under it was my cell number, all ten digits.

"You put it in yourself," he said. "About three this morning. You said it was in case I needed directions."

I stared at it.

I remembered none of that.

I remembered his mouth on my neck, and the stairs, and then the night had gone soft.

"Well," I said. "That's awful. I don't know who she is."

He started to laugh, a big shaking laugh that moved the whole mattress, and clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Stop that," I said, and pulled it away. "I like it. Let me hear it."

He laughed out loud, and I watched his whole chest do it.

Then I did what I had been thinking about since I woke up.

I sat up and pushed him flat on his back with both hands.

"Stay there," I said.

I slid off the mattress and onto my knees on the carpet beside it.

I turned him by the hip until his legs hung off the edge.

He came up on his elbows.

"Amber, you don't have to..."

"Shut up, Darius."

He shut up.

He was already half hard, long and heavy against his thigh, and in the gray light I could see how thick he was.

I wrapped one hand around the base. It did not close.

I leaned in and licked from the root to the tip, slowly, and tasted him and myself.

His head dropped back.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, Amber."

I took the head in my mouth.

My jaw had to open wider than I'd ever opened it, and my lips stretched.

I took what I could and used my hand for the rest.

I worked him with my mouth and my fist, wet and slow, and I felt him swell.

His hand came down into my hair.

He held it, and he did not push.

"Go on," I said around him, and then I couldn't say anything, because I was too full.

His hips lifted a little and then stopped, and he made a ragged sound.

"I want you to," I said, when I pulled off for air. "Don't hold still for me."

He moved then, slowly, rocking against my mouth, his hand gentle in my hair, so careful that I wanted to yell at him.

I looked up. He was watching me with his lips parted and his eyes wet.

I stopped.

I wiped my mouth with my wrist and climbed up onto the mattress beside him, and I put my lips against his ear.

"Tell me what you'd do," I said. "If you could. Say the filthy version."

"Amber."

"Say it."

I felt him swallow.

"I'd fill you up," he said, and his voice was so low I felt it in my own chest. "So much. I'd put a baby in you in a week."

A heat went through me from my hair to my toes.

I had not known I wanted to hear it until he said it.

"It's only talk," I said quickly. "I'm on the pill. I just want to hear it."

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

"Say it again."

He rolled over and pinned me beneath him on the mattress, one hand on either side of my head, and he looked down at me.

"I'd keep you in this bed all week," he said. "I'd put my cum in you every morning until it ran down your legs. I'd make you so full you couldn't walk to the kitchen."

I moaned out loud.

"I'd get a baby in you and you'd be so round and so pretty, and I'd still not let you out of the bed."

"Darius," I said. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Give it to me."

He sat back on his heels and pulled me up by the arms.

He sat on the edge of the mattress and drew me onto his lap, my back to his chest, my legs open outside his thighs.

His hand slid between my legs and found me soaked.

"Look at that," he said against my neck. "You're ready for me again."

"I've been ready since you walked in."

He lifted me by the hips with both hands, positioned himself, and let me down.

I went down onto him an inch at a time.

I gasped.

He groaned, and when I had taken all of him I sat there shaking, my thighs spread over his, his chest hot against my back.

"There," he said. "You've got it. All of me."

"I feel you in my stomach."

"I know. I feel it too."

He put one big hand flat on my lower belly, over the place where I felt him.

"Right here," he said. "That's where I'd put it."

"Oh, God."

He lifted me and lowered me, slow, and I held on to his forearms and let him move me.

I was so small in his hands that I did not have to do anything.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and the other hand found my clit.

He circled it with two fingers in time with the long thrusts.

"Tell me," I whispered. "Tell me again."

"I'm gonna fill you up. I'm gonna fill you every day."

"Yes," I said.

"Your pussy's so tight around me. You're taking all of it. You're so good, baby."

I came with my head thrown back against his shoulder and his name in my mouth.

He held me through it, and when I stopped shaking he pushed in deep and groaned and let go.

I felt him pulse inside me, hot and slow.

For a while neither of us moved.

His chin rested on my shoulder.

"I never said that to anybody," he said.

I did not believe him. I filed it under good manners and kept my mouth shut.

His phone buzzed on the carpet, and buzzed again, and went on buzzing.

He reached for it and looked at the screen.

I watched him read.

"What?" I said.

"Forty minutes of Tavon." He scrolled. "He says the truck's loaded and the nine o'clock is a piano in Alpharetta and if I'm not at the yard by eight-thirty he's telling my mama."

"What time is it?"

"Seven-fifty."

I looked at the man with his arms around me and his body still inside mine, and I heard how ridiculous it was.

"You have a piano in Alpharetta," I said.

"Yes, ma'am."

I climbed off his lap and found my T-shirt on the floor.

"Then go," I said. "Come back."

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