Lover's Island, page 10
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cree reached for her hand and caressed it. He didn’t want to spoil the night with sad memories. Instead, he made a mental note to learn more about Nyimah’s past. Tonight they would focus only on making new memories.
A petite waitress placed Nyimah’s and Cree’s entrées on their table as the lounge’s patrons erupted in applause. She removed the metal covers from the plates and exposed the lamb chops and lobster tails. Finally, the waitress put an open champagne bottle in the bucket filled with ice that was sitting in the middle of the table. “Enjoy,” she said before walking away.
“We made it in time for the show,” Cree stated and watched the band packing up their equipment.
“Yeah?” Nyimah asked, then covered her mouth as she chewed on a tender piece of lamb chop. The lamb melted in her mouth. It was so delicious that she wanted to meet whoever was stationed at the grill.
Cree nodded and briefly explained that a special performer would make an appearance tonight. They enjoyed small talk with each other as they enjoyed their food. About a half hour later, the waitress came by and removed their nearly empty plates and refilled their water glasses.
Nyimah’s attention turned to the stage. All the lights in the building had been cut except for the small lights above the bar. The circular spotlight on the stage was the only other illumination. The saxophonist blew into his instrument, warming up. Other members of the band followed suit and found their rhythm. An angelic voice could be heard humming over the beats.
“Coming to the stage, we have one of the best vocalists out of the South! A gem. A true performer. Welcome to the stage, the one, the only, Coco!” the hostess said into the microphone.
Applause erupted all over the room again. A slender brown beauty sauntered onto the stage from behind the thick black curtain. The red sequined dress she wore had a split along the side that exposed her toned, shapely legs. Black silk gloves stretched to her elbows, and a black fur shawl rested on her shoulders. Her hair was curled and full of body and was accented by a red carnation sitting by her ear.
Coco put Nyimah in the mind of Donna Summer, but with a modern elegance. Her looks could easily put her on a runway, but she looked like she belonged on the stage. She hadn’t spoken a word yet, but the audience couldn’t take their eyes off her. She had the aura of a superstar.
The woman stepped up to the microphone and adjusted it, lowering it a few inches. “How y’all doing tonight?” her soft voice said into the mic.
The audience responded with a few shouts and claps.
“All right now,” she said and smiled. Coco removed the mic from the stand and moved around the stage. “If you know me, you know I’m not for all the talking and theatrics. I let my voice do that for me.” She smiled. “But tonight,” she said, glancing into the crowd, “we have a few special guests. Welcome.” Coco waved at Cree and Nyimah. “I’d like to dedicate this first song to my lovers out there. There’s nothing like a safe, healthy love, ya know? A love you never want to let go of. I’m learning what that looks like for me.”
Coco paused and smiled graciously as the crowd clapped. “I’d like to dedicate this to the person who’s teaching me that love is patient. You make me feel like the only girl in the world.” Coco blushed and nodded her head to the band. The pianist ran his fingers along the keys, playing the melody to one of Whitney Houston’s songs from her classic movie soundtrack.
Nyimah squeezed Cree’s hand and smiled. “I love this song,” she whispered to him.
Coco inhaled before opening her mouth to sing the first lyrics. She sang softly, until the guitarist shifted the tempo.
“I don’t really need to look very much further . . . I don’t want to have to go where you won’t follow,” Coco sang, spreading her arms out from her sides.
Nyimah clutched her necklace and turned her head in Coco’s direction. She hadn’t expected such a big, powerful voice to come from such a little body. Her voice was soulful and sultry. Her range could place her in the pulpit or in front of thousands at Madison Square Garden.
“Raw, ain’t she?” Cree asked.
Nyimah didn’t respond, because Coco had her shaken. By the second verse, she had Nyimah speechless.
“I never knew love like I’ve known it with you.”
Nyimah shook her head back and forth, made a stank face of approval, and waved her napkin toward Coco. Coco belted out the high notes without breaking a sweat. The shawl fell from her shoulders as she carried a run.
“You better sing!” Nyimah exclaimed and stood to her feet. Coco could’ve very well given Whitney a run for her money with her own song. The hairs on Nyimah’s arms rose when Coco raised her voice an octave without breaking the note. From the way she sang, Nyimah guessed Coco had a past that involved singing in a church choir.
When the song was over, the audience hooted and gave Coco a standing ovation. Tears formed in Nyimah’s eyes as she clapped. She turned to Cree, who had a look of approval on his face. He kissed Nyimah’s knuckles and fingered away her tears.
Coco slowly walked off the stage with the mic in her hand. “Can’t forget about my special guests,” Coco said as she headed in Nyimah’s direction. “What’s your name, lovely?” she asked and then held the mic in front Nyimah.
“Nyimah,” she replied coyly.
“Nyimah. What a beautiful name.” Coco paused for the crowd to clap along in agreement. “If you could request one song for me to sing, what would it be?” She held the mic in front of Nyimah again.
Nyimah smiled nervously and swiveled her head in Cree’s direction. He simply gave a head nod of approval. There were so many songs that came to mind that she knew Coco would do justice to, but then she thought of a song her mom had loved. The song just so happened to explain how she felt about Cree. “Um, Patti LaBelle. ‘If Only You Knew,’” Nyimah said into the mic.
Coco beamed and tapped one hand against the microphone while walking back to the stage. “Somebody knows their music!” Coco knew the song like the back of her hand. She used to sing it for her first love, Jrue. “Y’all know it? You better know it.” Coco chuckled as she turned to her band. The guitarist slowly strummed the melody, closing his eyes. Percussion came next, with the drummer and bass player following suit. Coco hiked her dress up a few inches off the floor and swayed her hips to the beat.
Coco sat on a stool on the stage and sang effortlessly. “I must have rehearsed my lines a thousand times, until I had them memorized.”
Cree took Nyimah’s hand in his and guided her to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her body in close. He inhaled her scent while rubbing his hands up and down her back. “My mother loves this song too,” he whispered.
Nyimah laid her head on his chest while they rocked back and forth. Her hands were locked at the back of his neck. “It’s so beautiful.” Patti LaBelle’s song gave voice to Nyimah’s exact sentiments. Cree wasn’t aware of how much she loved him, how deeply she had fallen for him. She had rehearsed her lines the whole ride to Charlotte.
The intermission came, and the band played while Coco two-stepped across the stage, swaying her hips and singing. She owned the stage as if she were the only person present in the room. She brought the mic to her lips and graced the crowd with her soprano voice. Coco held her stomach as she held the high notes at the end of the song. She rocked up and down, belting out the last note.
The round of applause lasted for minutes before Coco disappeared behind the curtains.
Cree and Nyimah returned to their seats. Nyimah sipped some water.
“We got to have her sing at our wedding,” Cree declared.
“I agree, Mr. Baptiste,” Nyimah replied coolly. On the inside, however, she was doing somersaults. Those words meant Cree had thought about marrying her.
The DJ took over as Coco’s band cleared the stage. Nyimah and Cree returned to the dance floor and they danced like they were the only two people that existed in the room. She wanted to savor this moment. Life had reminded her one too many times how quickly a sweet moment could end. This moment was real. The love brewing between the two of them was real. Nyimah didn’t want to take that for granted.
“I hate to interrupt,” a male voice interjected. A dark-skinned man stood in front of them.
Cree removed his right hand from Nyimah’s waist to shake the man’s hand. “Press! How you living, brother?”
“Large, as always.” Press shook Cree’s hand firmly and smiled. He was a tall, stocky man. The salt and pepper throughout his beard hinted at his maturity. The diamond cuff links glistening against his wrists hinted at his opulence. The black double-breasted suit clung to his body. His eyebrows knit together broodingly. It was his natural demeanor. He had a bald head and gray eyes, which gave him a mysterious yet menacing appeal. “Glad to have you tonight. It’s been a while, Cree.”
“I know, man. Too long,” Cree stated. “This is Nyimah, the special lady I was telling you about. Just trying to impress her,” he joked. Cree glanced at Nyimah and brought her body close to his. “This is Press, owner of this lovely establishment and an old friend of the family.”
Nyimah laughed and extended her hand. She loved how modest Cree was. That humbleness turned her on. “Nice to meet you.”
Press nodded and shook Nyimah’s hand briefly. “Likewise. He brought you to the right place at the right time. Did you enjoy the show?”
“God, yes. Coco is amazing. She should be in somebody’s studio!” Nyimah was still blown away by Coco’s performance. She loved how moving music could be and appreciated the raw talent of artists who brought it to life.
“Indeed. She’s a star.” Press locked eyes with Coco across the room and tilted his head to the side, signaling to her to come over to him. Coco glided across the room in a matter of seconds. Press and Coco stared at each other longingly. For a second, they forgot they were standing in front of Cree and Nyimah.
Coco broke their trance by clearing her throat. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” She blushed as Press’s cheeks met her own.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Press replied.
Cree and Nyimah glanced at each other, thinking the same thing. A blind man could see the chemistry between Coco and Press, even though their encounter was strictly professional.
“I want you to meet a friend of the family. This is Cree and his date, Nyimah,” Press announced, returning his attention to Cree.
Coco shifted from one leg to the other. “Hello again. I hope my set touched you. You two look so good together,” Coco said.
“It did and more. Thank you for blessing us with your gift,” Nyimah answered.
“It’s nothing.” Coco shook her hand dismissively. “I’m going to make me a cup of tea. Y’all take care and come see me again.” She turned to Press. “Can I have a word?”
Press nodded and dapped Cree up before pulling him into a brotherly embrace. “Be good, fam. Nyimah, it was nice meeting you.” Press half smiled.
“You too. I’ll be in touch,” Cree replied before Press followed in Coco’s direction. “They fucking,” Cree whispered into Nyimah’s ear as he guided her back to their seats.
Nyimah snickered and pushed her curls out of her face. “Absolutely. It’s cute how he named the place after her.” She sat down and eyed Cree. At this point, she was ready to get him home. “Thank you for today.”
“No thanks needed. I should be thanking you. Your presence is a gift to me.”
A photographer floating around the room approached Cree and Nyimah. “May I?” he asked, nodding to them.
“Go ahead,” Cree responded and placed his arm around Nyimah’s shoulders. He smiled lightly while looking at Nyimah, whose smile lit up the room. He loved how his presence alone satisfied Nyimah. Most women in her position would have asked for everything but the world since Cree was in a position to provide it. But not Nyimah.
“Beautiful. I’ll print them out and have them waiting at the door before you leave.”
Cree handed the man a hundred-dollar bill. “Appreciate that.”
The photographer nodded to the couple and moved to the table next to them.
Nearly an hour later, Cree and Nyimah were enjoying the soulful music that the live bands played. Finally, the live bands packed up and made room for the DJ. It was nearly midnight when Cree and Nyimah piled into their town car and headed back to their hotel.
* * *
Cree and Nyimah settled into their hotel suite. Cree removed the jacket to his suit and laid it across the top of the couch. He stepped out of his loafers and slid the jacket from Nyimah’s shoulders.
“You need anything?” he asked her.
Nyimah sat on the couch and crossed her legs on top of the coffee table. “I just need you.” She knew Cree would accommodate any of her requests, but her night was already perfect. “Come here.”
Cree grinned and kneeled beside Nyimah. He unhooked the straps to her heels and removed them from her feet. Then he sat beside Nyimah and laid her legs across his lap. Cree took her left foot in his hands and massaged gently. “You know what I realized?”
Nyimah threw her head back and enjoyed the pressure of his fingers as they massaged her heels. “Hmm?”
“I want you around all the time.”
“I wish it were that simple.” Nyimah sighed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t abandon her life just yet. Her business was just starting to take off in the direction she had visualized for it. But a part of her kept asking, What if? What if she said fuck it all?
“It could be,” Cree pointed out. He stood and made his way to the minibar. “No pressure, though, love.” Cree located his cigars and clipped the end of one with his cigar cutter. The cigar rested securely in the corner of his mouth as he brought the torch to it. The cigar sizzled as Cree released a cloud of smoke. “You want a drink?”
Nyimah stood and shook her head. “No thanks. I’m going to freshen up a bit. Meet me in five?” she said suggestively.
Cree nodded and tilted his cigar in response.
She rushed into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She had a few minutes before Cree walked in. After throwing her suitcase onto the bed, she shuffled through the clothing items until she located the pink see-through negligee. Nyimah slipped her dress off her body and went into the bathroom to wash up. Naked, she exited the bathroom and pulled the negligee on over her head. She admired her appearance in the mirror. The pregnancy had put a few pounds on her but in all the right places.
The bedroom door inched open, and Cree slipped into the room and approached Nyimah. As she stood there, he wrapped his arms around her from the back. “Damn. All this for me?” He palmed her ass, which was halfway exposed due to the short length of the negligee.
“All for you, baby,” Nyimah purred as she turned around to face Cree. She cupped his face and stared into his eyes. “These feelings are scary, Cree. It feels like it’s all happening too fast.” She spoke about more than just her feelings, but Cree didn’t catch on.
“I make you feel safe, right?”
She nodded without a second thought. “Of course.”
“That means I’ma keep every part of you safe, even ya heart. You ain’t got to be scared of falling with me,” Cree said. “You trust me?” His dark eyes gazed into hers, and he tugged at the thin fabric on her body.
“I do,” Nyimah admitted.
Cree nestled his nose against her neck and inhaled her scent before kissing her neck. “Then I’m on whatever you on, Nyimah.” He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her head. Cree pulled her body to his as their lips locked. They walked backward toward the bed, never breaking their kiss.
Chills ran up Nyimah’s spine as Cree lowered her onto the bed with one hand behind her back. Nyimah had anticipated this touch for weeks, and the pulsating between her legs proved it. Cree pulled her to the edge of the bed and parted her legs. He tongue kissed her before lowering himself to his knees. He French-kissed her dripping pussy with precision. Nyimah arched her back and moaned while rubbing the top of Cree’s head.
“Just . . . like . . . that,” she said breathlessly.
Cree gripped Nyimah’s thighs and continued to lick. He didn’t stop as her body convulsed from her orgasm.
“Oh my God!” Nyimah exclaimed while fisting her hair. A puddle had formed on the sheet below her. “What are you doing to me?” she asked.
Cree smiled and stood to his feet. Nyimah crawled to the top of the bed and pulled him to her, then unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands roamed across his chiseled chest, and she pushed the shirt down his arms. Tattoos covered his entire chest. She placed a trail of kisses across his abs. She tugged at his Hermès belt buckle before unfastening it and pulling his pants down. A wide grin spread across Nyimah’s face when he sprung out to her. The veins popped on his long dick, and Nyimah licked her lips at the sight. Gripping his thick manhood with one hand, Nyimah wrapped her lips around him. She hadn’t performed oral sex since Asun, but she had never forgotten her tricks.
“Shit,” Cree sighed and threw his head back. Just when he thought Nyimah couldn’t get any better, she unleashed tricks he didn’t know she had. He didn’t know if it was the feelings involved or Nyimah’s skills that made him want to stamp her as the best he had ever had. Maybe it was both.
Nyimah looked up into Cree’s eyes while swirling her tongue around him. She stroked his manhood with one hand while cupping his balls with the other. Moaning, Nyimah pulled away, spit on it, and proceeded to deep throat. The suck and stroke combination she put on him made his knees weak.
Their eye contact was almost enough to send Cree overboard. He pulled away from Nyimah and snickered. “Nah, nah. Not yet.”
Biting her bottom lip, Nyimah leaned back on the bed and spread her legs wide, giving Cree the best view of her fresh wax. Cree accepted her invitation and hovered over her before slowly guiding himself inside.
“Ahh,” Nyimah moaned as she dug her nails into Cree’s back. Her wetness welcomed him, and he slowly stroked in and out of her.
