Restless--A TJ Jackson Erotica

I feel misconceptions are a fact of life. It's quite easy to make the wrong assumption based on someone's tone, or actions, or lack thereof. In any case, these mistakes of the mind and judgement, often lead to misunderstandings or minor embarrassments. Or, in the case of this erotica, it could leave a person open for a whole world of trouble, as one young lady soon found out, being too blind to see the forest for all the trees in her way.

"Restless"

A TJ Jackson Erotic Short Story By:

MJsLoveSlave
(Non-Sexual Cameo By Taj Jackson)

He was so close to me.

Closer than we had ever been the entire time I had known him.

Pressing against me.

Warm...hot, alive....

Alive with a passion and rhythm which I had never known.

It was dark, so very dark.

Even that....close...I found great difficulty in trying to see him.

But I could sense him.

How could I not?

Towering over me his breaths measured, even, deliberate against my face.

I was frightened, not just of him but of...everything.

Himself, myself, what his being with me meant.

There was no space to be spoken of, but I took my chances just the same.

I pressed myself against the corner....he had me cornered, damn it.

There was no escape.

No means to get away.

I was trapped....trapped like a dumb animal and couldn't get away.

From him.

From these feelings.

What were these feelings?

These feelings that prompted him as they did.

He was so strange.

So unlike the man I knew.

Had it all been a facade?

All this time--

“No—don't! Please don't!”

I begged, feeling the weight of his hands pressing my slim,weak shoulders.

Could I refuse him? Would he even listen?

Beg to reason?

Was that capability in him still?

“No? You're telling me no?”

His voice was bitter, biting, like salted, soured melons.

“You're telling me no...but I bet everything I have, if I were my older brother...you'd be telling me Yes! Yes! Yes—a million times YES!”

He bore down on me harder.

“No! That's not true! That's not true! NO--”

My words failed me, choking off abruptly.

His cheek, warm, flush and soft, pressed mine.

His voice in my ear.

He laughed.

A rude, lifeless, dry sort of a laugh.

“Don't you dare think of trying to scream...”

I was warned, a finger tip tapping my lips, quivering over my teeth, fear live with in me, coursing through my veins like electricity.

“...my brother can't hear you. He's watching a film. With the sound cranked all the way...”

He trailed off.

Indeed, in the distance, I could hear the rev of a chainsaw and disenfranchised shrieks from the horror movie being screened on the opposite end of the floor.

I was thrust forward, yanked against him, his arms wrapping me tightly.

His lips were on my cheek, my jaw, my neck.

Kissing, sucking, licking at will.

I felt a tear, bright, saline and scorching fall down my other cheek.

Jostling against him, I begged, pleaded, whined....

I had to know...

“Why....why are you doing this to me?”

His movement ceased and he held me in his arms a long, silent moment.

When he spoke, it was in a whisper,

“I can't see any other way to get you away from my brother...”

Thirty-Six Hours Earlier

I don't know how I long I had lingered in that bath tub, an hour, two, maybe more...

All I knew was at that point in time my fingertips, once smooth and supple and the faintest shade of tawny, had drawn in upon themselves to the point of resembling ten little raisins radiating out from my hands.

At one time, the water, sloshing about my shoulders, had been delightfully cold, made even moreso by the addition of a bucket of ice cubes, but had now all but melted away, dissolved and disappeared around me.

It was the heat.

The heat was sucking the singular life force out of everything it came in contact with.

The water in the tub, the ice cubes....me.

It would be my misfortune for the air conditioning that had mercifully chilled all three floors of my townhouse to abruptly do its swan song in the middle of the night and leave me to wake up a sweaty dripping and funky mess, wholly stuck to my satin bedding and having to claw my way out of the bed like a victim having fallen prey to fancy, pearl-pink quicksand.

I suppose I could have left my house, checked into a hotel somewhere, or even gone two towns over to my childhood home and depended on the kindness of my parents to put me up until I could have the problem absolved.

But no...I always had to go the road less traveled.

Be both hardheaded and pigheaded.

Stubborn.

I was born a Taurus; stubbornness occurred naturally and flowed in my veins as easily as blood.

There was a person, whom I blamed for the speedy failure of my air conditioning and I wasn't going to move one inch from my property until I got him to admit responsibility...and at least help pay for the repair.

Or the entire shebang, I hadn't fully decided just yet.

I was idling away the late morning in the tub...but I was also waiting.

As soon as I had wrenched my body from the bed—and fell rolling beneath it—I had lodged one acid-filled call to the guilty party, and had likely set his answering machine on fire with it.

Answering machine, psssssh, a likely story.

It had been barely past five a.m., when I made that call or assault via Ma Bell, however one wanted to describe it, there was no way that damn fool couldn't have been anywhere but tucked off in his bed, a stream of drool flowing out his crooked ass mouth--

Ping-a-ling! Ping-a-ling! Ping-a-ling!

On the white tiled floor, my telephone, which I had dragged from my sauna of a bedroom, hidden from sight, jangled, a neon blue glow blinking in tandem with the sudden ringing.

Taking my own sweet time, I had waited long enough for him, I dropped my wet arm out the tub and slowly lifted the receiver to my ear.

“Talk to me--”

“Kai? Kai—hey, it's Taj--” Came the stammering, stumbling greeting, lodged in a voice that came across as deep, yet high-pitched at the same time, cracking intermittently.

A voice I could have pinpointed even in a mass mob if I had to, it was so distinctive to my ears.

“How nice of you to return my call...finally...” While my voice was cool, my eyes rolled in aggravation. Though I had cut loose on the answering machine message, now ear-to-ear with him, I had to play my cards correctly, use my words and tone to my benefit.

There was no sense in pissing him off unnecessarily.

“I'd have called you back sooner, Kai...I had something to do for work--”

“At five in the morning?” I splashed water up onto my neck.

Again ,a likely story.

“Yeah! Look, I'll explain it when I see you! You're really still in your house right now? In the middle of the worst heatwave that So-Cal has seen in decades?” He bumbled and I scoffed,

“No, I'm just sitting here doing my impersonation of a one-hundred percent all-beef patty on a grill. If you look closely enough you'll find the crosshatch marks on me--”

“How the hell are you not dead--I can't just leave you there!”

That was what I had been waiting to hear , and started to sit up slowly, continuing to listen, but saying nothing.

“It's going to be in the triple digits today—I'm talking a hundred and ten or more—you can't stay there, Kai! I won't let you stay there—a woman by yourself? What happens if you pass out or worse? Naw! Give me about forty-five minutes, an hour at the most, I'm still doing something for work. But it'll give me a chance to change and I'll come get you, alright? Pack something for two or three days. No telling how long it'll take to get that mess fixed!”

I remained silent running my pruney finger along the smooth, porcelain rim of the tub.

“Kai!”

I did so love stringing him along.

“Alright, Taj...” I chuckled, feeling my lips curve connivingly. “I'll see you in an hour...at the most. Toodle-loo!”

The line went silent, and I beamed.

Taj never could deny a 'damsel in distress'—especially when I could play it like I was Meryl Streep!

At least now, I wasn't going to die of heatstroke.

Aside from myself, there wasn't a soul to be found outside on Cherrywood Lane that Friday afternoon.

Not that I could blame anyone.

It was barely eleven a.m., and already was in the upper nineties. I had shut off the radio before the weatherman could tell the heat index as it surely was up over a hundred.

And let's be honest, I didn't need to hear it, not when I could feel it.

A bright, hot, stifling heat, with no sort of breeze to offer respite.

Again I lingered, this time in the little alcove sufficing as my front porch, set above my single car garage with a slight sloping driveway leading to the rest of the road.

A road, situated in the older part of town where a dozen townhouses stood side by side, all looking a bit too perfect and a bit too elaborate, with whimsical, ornate carvings of the by-gone Gilded Age, when most had been constructed.

Some painted sweet, pastel shades of sugar pink, buttercup yellow and baby blue, while others, like mine had been painted a stark, blistering white.

I paced back and forth aimlessly, every so often looking down over the precipice, where my bags had been thrown at will, faced with steps that cut a diagonal to the street below.

Continuing to pace I picked at my hair, parted down the middle and arranged into two, thick, gleaming, waist-touching braids, each fastened with a small purple scrunchie, matching the bandanna I had tied around my head, just behind my heavy bangs.

I glanced at my white, plastic, Baby G watch...it had been a full forty-five minutes since I had spoken to Taj.

I could feel a smirk taking my face as light danced off the dial face and the ten thin silver bangles I had stacked around it.

Taj was an incredibly punctual man, never running late in the close to two years I had known him.

He'd told me he'd be around to pick me up within “forty-five minutes to an hour, at the most”, in Taj-Speak, that meant fifty minutes on the dot.

I never knew how he quite managed it, but whenever Taj would give a time range for something he'd get it done exactly in the middle of the range.

Always. Without fail.

And true to form, at exactly fifty minutes, I heard the subtle, gentle purr of a well-tuned, running engine in the distance.

I felt my smirk deepen as I leaned over the banister and peered down the road.

Sure enough, turning the corner and creeping towards my house was a forest green Jeep Wrangler, it's vanity plate reading NERDY.

A moment later the Jeep was idling in my driveway, the door opening with a young man disembarking from the driver's side.

He ambled around to the front of the vehicle, resting back against the oversized utility bumper, arms folding over the front of his grey Oakland Raiders tee, and stared upwards at me.

I was unnerved for a split second.

Taj Jackson was an attractive man, not so much in the conventional sense, but more akin as to what his license plate proclaimed—nerdy.

He did seem the embodiment of the term he'd playfully attached to himself, a bit on the wiry side, tall, his shirt a couple of sizes too large along with baggy plaid pajama pants he liked to wear outside the house especially in such soaring temperatures and black sneakers.

His clothing was never form-fitting if he could avoid it.

While I wore a trendy watch, his was smaller, in the shape of Star Wars supervillan Darth Vader's head, and always alarmed with his trademark heavy breathing at exactly three pm—to remind Taj to take an antihistamine to control his allergies.

(He was allergic to pollen and dander and if that pill wasn't employed right away, he'd have a sneezing fit to send him to the hospital!)

Still, with all those accouterments, it couldn't' be overlooked or outshine the fact that Taj was good looking.

He was a Black Latino—his father African American, his mother Dominican and Puerto Rican—and the mixed blood showed by way of a lighter, butterscotch tinged complexion, that went fairly sallow in winter and in summer by exposure to the sun, darkened to a ripe, proud copper.

Taj looked boyishly young, and could have been mistaken for his mid-teens, when, in actuality, he was in his mid-twenties. Though slim, his face maintained a youthful roundness, particularly in the cheeks, and his tanned complexion was set off by straight brows over eyes, dark far away, showing glints of gold up close.

His hair, arranged in black, shoulder-sweeping braids, usually masked his face but today had all been gathered back into a low ponytail, showing off his prominent ears—part of the reason he'd gotten the braids to start with, to disguise this feature.

Chewing thoughtfully on his plump, pinkish bottom lip, his eyes left me for a moment taking in the four floral printed suitcases, before returning with him asking,

“Is this it, or do you have something else you need to get, so we can go?”

I had been resting on my elbows over him, but at the inquiry I stood straight, situated my hands on my little hips and declared haughtily, tossing my head so that the one braid I had been playing with whipped over my shoulder,

“I think we have to settle the matter of my broken air conditioner first, Taj--”

The braided head cocked to the side curiously,

“What about it, Kai?”

“Well...” I was very contentious about lowering my head and pouting, twiddling my thumbs and taking in how the sunlight brought out the blue, pink and green flecks in my silvery, Moonstone nail polish.

“...I kind of feel like you should, at least, chip in for the repair..Taj....”

My voice lifted an octave on his name, as I wanted and lent a childish air to my tone,

“...seeing as you're the reason why the air broke in the first place--”

He was mimicking me, holding onto his hips, head tilting to the other side, with him squinting up at me, his smooth forehead puckering,

“And just how do you figure that?”

I was undaunted, tossing my head a second time.

“I do recall, yesterday afternoon, a man looking very much like you, came barging into my house demanding to watch a marathon of Friday the 13^th: The Series reruns on The Sci-Fi Channel, because he claimed he couldn't live without seeing that titian-headed siren, Robey, for ten episodes in a row...”

The bridge of his nose was now buckled like his forehead.

“....and I also recall, the man who resembled you so exactly you could have passed for twins, fiddling with my thermostat and turning it down to fifty-five, because he kept on complaining, over and over that he would have melted off into the upholstery at the comfortable sixty-eight I had going!”

Both of the lips sucked in at the revelation, with Taj silently admitting fault and defeat simultaneously.

He had to have been warm-natured, for Taj was notorious for keeping his own home like the arctic, unable to stand being in the heat for too long.

He slid off the front of the vehicle, grabbing up two of the four bags.

Hopping down the steps, gleeful at another victory against him in this untold war of wits, I picked up the two remaining bags and started around to the back of the car to help load them in.

“...I was born underwater...with three dollars and six dimes...”

The inside of the Jeep was quiet, save for the Neo-Soul crooning of Erykah Badu, the muted constant whir of the car's cooling system going full blast and blowing my bangs clear up off my forehead, and with every bump in the road we went over, the sloshing of the half-empty bottle of Orange Gatorade in the cup colder.

I stared at Taj, his face set, eyes ahead as he aimed the Jeep for the on-ramp of the expressway that would take us from my town of Chavez, out to his home in the Hollywood Hills.

Mouth bouncing as he had consumed half a Snickers bar, mashing the other half against the steering wheel.

Taj always ate candy while driving, and I don't know where it went on him, as he never gained an ounce.

I had a question that had been burning me, even more than the heat, since the night before,

“...Oh...on and on...and on and on--”

Reaching over I turned down the volume. I saw his eyebrow go up at the gesture —I knew it was practically criminal to touch a man's radio without first asking—but he remained quiet and I used the lull to ask,

“Taj...?”

“Hmm?” The car sped up as we hit the highway, the other half of the candy going in his mouth, the wrapper being stuck in an unused ashtray.

“Why did you come to my house to watch television last night...I...I...”

I didn't exactly know where the hell I was going once I started,

“...I mean you live alone, in a condo, with your dog. I know you have a television there—you've got four last I saw. Why did you have to come to my house?”

Was I flattering myself?

Yes....yes I was.

“Choco and I aren't at home right now...I'm spending the week in Beverly Hills house-sitting for Pops...” He paused, speeding up further to bypass a slow-moving semi, adding.

“...He had to go out of town for a charity function, and he didn't trust leaving TJ at home alone--”

At the mention of his younger brother, his junior by five years and a year older than myself, I decided to bring up the matter of their middle sibling,

“What about Taryll? Doesn't he still live at home with your father too or did he finally move out?”

Taryll, two years younger than Taj, had recently graduated from USC that past May and had been laying over enjoying one last summer at home before he had to fully commit to being an “adult”: finding a place of his own and securing a job in order to keep said place.

“No...he's still home...but that's part of the reason why I came to your house. You know he's been assistant coaching that Little League Team... you know the one named in our mom's memory, DeeDee's Dynamos?”

I nodded, vaguely remembering the mention of Taryll's gig for the summer—mostly because their father got tired of seeing him sleeping until the late afternoon and wandering about in his underwear living on cold Chinese takeout.

Taryll had been thrown out on the lawn, in his briefs, and told to “do something!”

“Well, the Dynamos finally played well enough to get into a tournament. He's out in Vegas with them for it. Playing other teams from across the region. Yesterday, they had a farewell party and sleepover. I was about to lose my mind with about two dozen little kids running all over the place, hollering and screaming. Imitating the damn Power Rangers. Karate-chopping and yelling HI-YAH! And like you teased me earlier, I wanted to see Robey....”

He smiled broadly.

He was such a nerd and unashamed about it.

“...and your place in Chavez is closer than mine in the Hills, so there I was....”

A lever was pushed and with the signal light blinking, Taj began easing towards the exit for Beverly Hills.

“TJ ducked out too, with a buddy of his—oh my shit!”

A fist pounded the steering wheel and I jumped at the sudden exclamation,

“What Taj?”

He was grimacing like he'd been struck down with appendicitis, diarrhea and ptomaine poisoning all at once.

Had the Snickers been bad?

“I forgot: I have to run pick TJ up at Luden's Field! He's playing baseball this summer too, with a recreational team! His buddy was able to drop him there, but wasn't able to pick him back up to bring him home. Shit! I've been going, going, going all day and it completely slipped my mind—shit!”

The wheel spun and we made a U-turn, whether it was a legal move or not, I don't know but as no red and blue lights greeted us in the rearview mirror, I assumed it was alright, and we were heading back for the freeway.

Ten minutes later , we pulled into the sparsely occupied parking lot of Luden's Field.

It was clear to see that a game had ended sometime shortly before, as several people hung around a portable Weber grill, sitting on the tailgate of a pickup, eating hot dogs and throwing back cold ones, a couple of them in black ball uniforms with the words Beverly Hills Bruisers emblazoned on the front in red.

A quick scan of the men noshing on dogs revealed that none were TJ, two were White and one Asian.

“Damn it, now we have to track him down...” He lamented more to himself than to me, and was opening his door.

I followed suit, but as I slipped out someone shouted, a bit drunkenly,

“Hey Taj! If you're hunting TJ, he's over at the snack bar! Man you missed a hell of a game today! TJ hit three home runs! Dude was on some straight Sammy Sosa shit—it was amazing! The Odessa Oilers didn't stand a chance! We massacred them—five to nothing! ”

“Hey, you know I would have been here if could, Huang! But I had to work make that pocket change!” Taj chuckled and the Asian guy was flagging at him playfully.

“We miss you playing, man!” One of the White guys, very blonde and very sunburned cackled. “No one could run faster than you! You ever wanna play again, we got a spot for you!”

“Thanks Craig! I'll think about it!”

“And tell Taryll to get his ass over here too! Best damn southpaw we ever had and where he at—with kids!”

“But the kids whipping ass at the tournament in Vegas--”

“What that do for us, though?”

A hand was laid on my back and I was ushered through the chain-link fence separating the field from the lot, the men continuing to jeer and call after Taj.

On the far end of the field, at home plate, two men in bright blue ball uniforms, I suppose from the opposing Oilers stood having a heated discussion. I couldn't make out what was being said as they were so far away, but the scowls, wild gesticulations, and reddened necks were evidence enough.

A few feet beyond several more of the Bruisers players lounged on the bleachers, eating ice cream cones and as I passed someone joked about taking bets as he was certain the two men hashing it out on the mound would come to blows.

A few hundred yards away, we both spied the Snack Bar, a little ramshackle building, tin, with it's once bright facade fading and peeling under the unrelenting California sun.

“Shit!”

That seemed to be Taj's swear word of the day as he cussed again and I saw why.

A man stood at the bar holding a small dish heaping over with nachos merrily adding a ton of jalapenos to the gooey, spicy mix, but alas, it was not TJ.

This gent was much older, knocking on sixty, nowhere near the less than twenty of the youngest of the Jackson Brothers.

“I'll be damned—Huang said he went to the bar! Where can that knucklehead be? Where did he go?” Taj grumbled in dismay, shaking his head derisively.

“He went to the john so he wouldn't piss himself in front of God and everybody and be laughed clear over the border into Mexico!”

A voice, cool, leaden, and frankly mellifluous, remarked snidely from behind us.

Around Taj, a young man stepped, blocking our path, eyes locking on him, unwaveringly, peering down from the spare four inches he had on him.

TJ Jackson.

I smiled, taking in all six feet of him with a sweep of my eyes.

While I considered Taj unconventionally good looking, TJ seemed to have been overcompensated by genetics and was as conventionally handsome as any man I had seen.

I'm not idly complimenting him; TJ had been routinely hounded all through high school by agents to become a male model, go into acting, do some sort of work in entertainment.

But, like me, he was a stubborn sort, wanting only to go to business school for a degree, and to play baseball at leisure.

(And he'd gotten into USC on scholarship with a 4.0 GPA, not because of his athletic prowess.)

He did posses the 'look', so to speak.

TJ was tall and dark, having taken on the sienna complexion of their father, a color that darkened to a healthy glow with an undercurrent of bronze from all his practice and playing.

He was slim, toned, muscular—it was clear he took the best care of his body—evidenced by the way his black uniform hugged his physique, the broad shoulders, broader chest, slim waist and rippling legs.

His face was angled, chiseled and cut with high cheek bones, a tight jawline, and streamlined nose.

His eyes, burnished gold in the sunlight, were under startling, arched, aggressively heavy black brows.

His cap in his hands left his hair, pulled back into a messy man-bun at the nape of his long neck, framed his face in untamed coils, naturally black, but had been streaked with glints of coppery red, sunset brown and auburn.

It was hair that, if it weren't matted down and full of perspiration after a game in temperatures that had soared well into the triple digits with no whisper of shade or breeze, would have stood up a good six inches, making him look something like Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons.

(And he detested it when I called him that!)

He was a stunning devil....and what's more, he knew he was a stunning devil.

Stunning, smart, and as he kept his gaze with Taj, challenging him, he was slipping off into being snarky, as came naturally when sparring with his older brother.

Flicking the brim of his hat, TJ's head went back with him staring down his nose, inquiring in a way that both asked and answered,

“You forgot about my Black ass didn't you?”

“No....” Taj was quick to lie, brows going up, then down in confusion, TJ digging his cleat into the gravel walkway and spinning away from us.

“Now where you going?”

“To get a damn Hawaiian Ice—it's a hundred and eight degrees out here! Don't know about you, but I'm not into passing smooth on out!”

TJ walked maybe ten steps before stopping, peeking back over his shoulder at me, offering.

“You want one, Kai? It's on me. Hot as hell out here.”

I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth!

“Sure--” I started towards him with Taj crying after,

“What about me?”

“What about you? I only treat pretty girls...not coconut heads who forget to pick me up!”

His hand, warm and clammy, was on my wrist hurrying me along.

I couldn't help feeling a touch special, at his compliment.

He was gazing back at Taj, dragging his feet to catch up.

“...It's only two dollars anyway. I know you can afford it!” He teased, lips curling evilly in a sardonic grin, and I heard Taj audibly growl.

As the baby of the family, a wealthy family, I might add, TJ had never quite grasped the idea of managing his funds, an error on his part he seemed to get enjoyment out of heckling Taj, who was far more careful, about.

Arriving at the counter, TJ slapped the top of it with a clang, getting the attention of the clerk bopping to mariachi music playing from a small portable radio.

“Benito, dos Bart Simpsons, por favor—andale!” TJ rattled off in flawless Spanish, his grasp of his mother's native tongue superior to that of his brothers.

“Put it on my tab...”

A glance to the menu showed a 'Bart Simpson' was ice flavored with pineapple and banana syrup.

Beside me Taj was studying the menu, hand to his clefted chin, mulling over the selection of twenty slushes.

Two large cups heaping with bright yellow Hawaiian ice, were handed over, Benito looking to Taj expectantly.

“Oh—A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle...”

That blissful nerd.

Why all the concoctions were named after cartoons, I never understood.

Lime with a splash of lemon and coconut, in the form of a brilliant green ice was passed off and Taj broke a five.

“Why are you out here dragging ass with this clown,anyway, Kai?” Reaching, TJ shoved Taj playfully and jumped as he was pinched in return on his taut bicep.

A spoon was jabbed in my ice, the three of us falling in step.

“My a/c up and died on me, so I'm staying with you guys until its fixed--”

Those wingtip brows raised in astonishment at me as though I'd declared I'd discovered plutonium.

“Taj--You know we can't have girls in the house with Pops gone! Pops know you bringing a girl in the house?”

TJ questioned over my head, causing Taj to choke on his turtle slush.

And instantly flew on the defensive.

“No—and he don't need to know! He'll be in Orlando till next weekend! Kai will be gone by then. She's our friend, I wasn't going to let her just sit and burn the fuck up!”

TJ sucked on his spoon thoughtfully a moment and I could almost see the gears in his mind turning, readying to spurn Taj some more.

“Oh, so you can bring a girl in, but I can't--”

“You ain't got a girl to bring!” Taj snapped and TJ rolled his eyes, eating another heaping helping.

“I can remedy right quick!” He was grinning, arm opening to wrap my shoulders.

It was a nice body but after nine innings in the sun, he no longer smelled as sweet as he looked.

“TJ--” I went to push him my nose recoiling and stopped as a strange bellow, sounding much like a dying animal, went up in front of us.

“What the hell?” His arm dropped and all three of us turned to the field.

“I told you them bastards was gonna get to swanging!”

“Get it!”

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

“Holy shit!”

“Goddamn, look at that there!”

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

“Get him! Get him! Kick his ass!

“Carter, you owe five bucks! I told you they'd fight!”

“Fuck him up! Fuck! Him! Up!”

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”
Across from us, men in uniforms, both blue and black were streaming onto the fields, dust kicking up as the two Odessa Oilers players lit into each other, a circle forming with men screaming and cursing.

“Damn, those two been picking at each other since the game ended--” TJ started and stiffened, a black cap flying through the air, as Huang, the man whom had spoken to Taj, whirled like a top, taking a jab to the nose.

“That asshole--he sucker punched Huang! AW HELL NAW!”

I was suddenly holding an extra cup and cap, TJ sprinting off to the growing mass of fists flying.

“I got your back, Huang!”

His jersey floated on the wind and landed at my feet, having been stripped off and all I could see was a toned, ripped back flexing as he ran with ease.

He was gone so fast, Taj didn't even have time to holler his name in protest.

All I saw was TJ swan dive into the middle of the melee and disappear.

“Fuck me all over! SHIT! That damn fool!”

Taj screamed, throwing his ice to the ground with a splash, whistles blowing, the handful of referees trying to break it up, and was racing away to the crowd, ponytail swishing behind him.

Then, like TJ he disappeared into the fray.

I held my breath, tense, unable to move.

More men fell, grappling, struggling, punching, kicking.

I even saw one man bite another's arm, and leave him screaming in pain in the dirt.

Noses and mouths were being bloodied in rapid succession and I neared the perimeter of the field, almost unconsciously, terrified as to the state of my friends.

My friends whom I still could not see!

Were they alright?

Battered? Broken?

Blows were landing and echoing at a sickening rate.

That's when I heard it.

Faintly, just faintly over the din of the fight, as off the parking lot, a few of the players girlfriends ran screaming for them to stop, but none being so stupid as to dare get in the crosshairs of over twenty incredibly able-bodied and fit men rolling about.

But I heard it.

“Dumbass! Dumbass! Dumbass! Dumbass!”

Tajs voice.

Gritty, raspy, annoyed, but it was Taj's voice.

“Dumbass! Dumbass! Dumbass! Dumbass!”

From the dust and wildly grating bodies, Taj emerged, backing towards me, being jerked forward for every couple of steps back he took, stepping over an Odessa player, knocked out by an unseen fist.

He was wholly bent at the waist, pulling at something.

His pajama pants sagged, revealing the band of his Fruit of the Looms.

It took him several tries before I saw just what he was holding onto to.

TJ.

Both hands were firmly planted on the waistband of TJ's trousers and though TJ was swinging with all his might, doing his very best to land a parting blow, he was being extracted from the fight.

“I'm not done! I'm not done! Let me go! Damn you! Taj—unass me!”

TJ shouted, throwing a fist back, which missed Taj's nose by inches.

Both were covered in dust and grime, TJ's hair sticking willy-nilly all over, Taj's ponytail having come loose, leaving his braids to cascade down into his reddened face.

“I SAID I AIN'T DONE YOU FUCKER!”

TJ broke free, Taj falling to his knees.

“Shit! Stop TJ!”

He made a grab for TJ's arm, but such activity had covered TJ in a sheen of sweat and his grip was lost with TJ making a dash for the group only to be tackled from the brunt of it, Taj hitting him around the knees and buckling him, sending a plume of dust up, another pair of players, choking eac other tripping over them and crashing to the ground.

“OW!”.

“Get yo' scrawny ass up! You try to fight again you and me gonna be fighting!”

Taj snarled, scrambling to his feet, clutching TJ by the back his long neck, first lifted him upright and then bodily threw him towards the opening in the fence.

“Damn it, Pops ain't been gone two days yet and you've gone and lost your mind! Get yo ass--”

“Bro, you know I couldn't let Huang just get hit! He's my teammate! I had to jump in--” TJ tried to turn to argue and was shoved against the chain-links in front of me.

His eyes met mine, wild, crazed, his soul still in the fight.

“You ain't had to do shit! I don't give a good goddamn if it was President Clinton and the Pope boxing out there! Acting a fool! Get your shirt, get your drink, we're going home! Had to get all in this mess!”

“Taj!”

“Shut up!And you clowned out in front of Kai!”

Throwing his head so the braids cleared his maroon face, he reiterated,

“Bring yo ass! Got a good mind to kick it myself!”

Taj was by my side, his hand wrapping my bicep and was quickly ushering me towards the parking lot.

Over my shoulder, I saw TJ stooping for his discarded jersey.

He paused a moment, looking longingly to the fight still in progress, but thinking better of it—I had personally witnessed Taj in a fit of rage the previous summer, hitting TJ so hard he'd flown into a wall and left a dent after TJ had broken one of Taj's rare Star Wars figures—threw the shirt over his shoulder and brought up the rear.

Boba Fett had been left without a head and TJ with a bruise running his spine for a month.

He was smirking after Taj.

I knew that look.

This whole event was only paused, but far from over.

Did he always have to be so hot-tempered?

Yes...

“...no, it's not my house, it's my friend's house...no, you don't need to talk to her, I'm paying for it! You talk to me, man to man...look, I'm not going to let you jack up the price just because she's a woman—hello? Shit!”

In the far corner of the spacious kitchen, appointed in the French Country style,Taj Jackson sagged between the wall and the large chrome refrigerator, tapping the receiver of the phone against the lightning bolt symbol gracing the top of The Flash pajamas he'd changed into, once we arrived at his father's house following the unholy brawl at Luden's Field.

It had been that way for a good hour.

Taj had rang up four different repair companies, languished on hold, and had gotten the boot when he insisted upon the consultations being 'man to man', but I let him be. He'd seen his three aunts and gypped on home repairs and wasn't going to let it happen again.

So I occupied myself at the island a few feet away, bouncing a small rubber ball against the moist nose of Choco, Taj's chocolate Labrador puppy, panting happily in my lap.

His back turned to me, Taj was dialing once more...must have been long distance, he was dialing way more than the standard seven digits.

Idly he twirled one of his loose braids.

“Uncle Michael?” He spoke finally, and I could hear the relief in his voice.

Oh, he'd called his father's younger brother, who lived out in the San Fernando Valley.

“Hey, it's Taj. I need you to do me a favor, please. Kai's air conditioning broke—you remember Kai, she goes to school with TJ...yeah that's her...”

I had only met Taj's uncle a handful of times, but he employed Taj as a veterinarian, for his company that supplied big game animals to citizens as private pets. He was a nice man, shy, quiet, and possessed his own zoo of over seventy exotic beasts, which were also in his nephew's astute care.

“...I'm footing the bill 'cause its kind of my fault it broke--”

“It is your fault, Taj” I chimed in and was shot a scathing glare.

I scrunched my nose at him, petting Choco's head.

“--but everyone I call about it is giving me the run-around. Can....can you help me, Sir...?”

He trailed off and I heard a light gasp.

His voice dropped but I heard him comment,

“No...no...she's just my friend...I can't answer that right now...”

He was peeking at me nervously.

A-ha...Michael was teasing his nephew about the nature of our relationship.

Alas, it was nothing all too exciting.

Nowadays it would be said I had been severely friend-zoned.

I had liked Taj...that way...when I first met him, but as he seemed continuously blind to my few attempts to catch his attention, I resigned myself to being friends.

No sense in pressing for what was never there to start with.

And at least this friend was correcting his mistakes for me.

Still....he was awfully cute, especially with the way his ears were turning pink.

They always turned pink, then red when he was embarrassed.

“Yes, Sir... we can let a repairman in tomorrow...oh, thank you!”

The phone was hung up, and Taj lingered.

I heard a pleased sigh exude from him, but he made no other noise.

Still bopping Choco, my curiosity got the better of me,

“Why aren't we a thing?”

The braided head shook seriously, Taj returning to me.

“No offense to you, but...I'm just not ready, Kai....not after my last relationship. Not after what Miranda did to me. You're pretty and sweet...just...I need...to be to myself for a while after that train wreck.”

He stammered, mouth twisting downward in deep thought.

His ears were red now.

I only vaguely knew of Taj's ex-girlfriend. He'd been more serious about their relationship than her and seeing it going nowhere, had ended it shortly before I met him.

I didn't want to push the issue about it, as it did seem to hurt him so.

Since then, he'd been as I knew him: quiet, to himself, indulging his nerdy side and...single.

Shame, I thought he'd have made a great boyfriend.

Taj was one of the nicest men I had ever known.

“I understand...here...” His hands were outstretched for Choco.

Life and light came back to him as he hugged the dog with his licking at his chin.

That pile of fur was his world right then.

“Uncle Michael will send a guy tomorrow around eleven...” He hastened to say, tickling the dog. “...and I'll take it from there....”

“Thank you...really...” I patted his shoulder, setting the ball down. “I was only joking about paying for the air, but thanks for all the trouble you're going to for me. ...”

“No problem...awww...” He cooed, with his free arm, hugging me against him.

He made no quick moves to release me, and his cologne did smell so nicely of juniper and vanilla.

I decided to make no moves either.

Was there really no way I could change his mind in my favor?

Without thought, my hand was against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat change from steady to more erratic and off-tandem.

Was...was I making him nervous?

“What?”

The word came out so harshly, so abruptly, I thought he was angry at me.

But why?

Why, I didn't know. Did he not want to be touched?

We hugged all the time, it was natural.

Had I offended him? Overstepped my bounds in some way?

A glance up, showed Taj was looking over my head, his features set and stern, dark eyes turning to slits behind his curtain of plaits.

Not at me.

He wasn't looking at me!

Following his gaze, I saw the kitchen no longer solely contained him, Choco and myself.

Hands shoved nonchalantly into the pockets of plaid pajama bottoms, so large and billowy, they dwarfed the form-fitting, ecru thermal thermal tee showing every dip, groove and nuance of his built upper body, was TJ.

It was clear he was fresh from a shower, his hair appeared much more voluminous, a few droplets still sparkling throughout.

It was also crystal clear he still had it out for Taj, meeting his eyes, as he had on the path to the snack bar.

Solidly, coldly, directly.

He remained silent, staring at his elder sibling, lips curling but not revealing his teeth, a gesture that prompted Taj to repeat gruffly,

“What?”

“Nothing...” TJ picked up the discarded ball, tossing it back and forth between his hands, eyes never leaving his brother. “...just I was wondering how long it was going to take you to start making moves on Kai.”

This piqued my curiosity, but I held my tongue, Taj growing steadily stiffer against me, mouth dipping on either side.

“And since when is sharing a hug with a friend considered 'making moves' you smartass?” Taj demanded, turning and pulling me along with him as TJ brushed by, heading for the fridge.

One of the two doors was opened, with TJ hidden except from about the calves down and he spoke from behind it, as glass bottles rattled,

“When...as far as I can see, Kai is the only woman I see you hanging around these days, since you split with Miranda--”

“What part of she's my friend is going over your kinky head?” Taj snapped and I stiffened feeling his nails starting to dig into my rib cage as he neglected to release me.

“No part...” The door was shut, TJ popping the pull-tab on a can of Coke. “Just everyone else you kick it with is of the male persuasion. The dudes you work with for Uncle Mike, the guys on the Bruisers, those weirdos from that comic book store you go to every week when you get your paycheck to geek it up....”

“Well excuse the hell out of me for having a good camaraderie with my coworkers, teammates and other comic enthusiasts...” Taj grunted, and his teeth were audibly grinding, his temper flaring and tone scalding like boiling water.

“I didn't know there was a specific male-to-female quota I was failing to fill!”

TJ paused taking a deep drink, his eyes shifting, falling on me.

And he pushed on, with a topic that was better left alone.

“I always thought Kai looked your type anyway, Taj--”

The dog was back in my arms, Taj seeming to double in size, his chest expanding so as he inhaled sharply to challenge,

“Oh, I got a type now....what's my type? I'd like to know, Tito Joe, since I'm so predictable!”

TJ blinked at having been called by his true name, but, nonetheless, held his stance, drinking more soda.

Those goldish eyes cast over me, then returned to Taj, the whites of TJ's front teeth showing as he went to smile evilly.

“You always had a thing for younger women, Taj...got in trouble all through high school for dating freshmen girls...Kai's younger than both of us...”

Those eyes were nearly invisible now, Taj was squinting at his sibling so hard, nostrils on his nose flaring.

“Lord knows Pops kept grounding and forbidding your ass from seeing Miranda when she was a freshman and you were a senior, even though she was got held back that time and was supposed to be a sophomore...”

“That's in the past, bitch...” Taj snarled, nostrils flapping like a bird's wings. “Keep it moving, TJ!”

I really didn't want to be party to another brawl.

Much less the catalyst for one!

“I am...now about Kai...”

TJ nodded, and his curls, arranged in a shingled cut, shorter in the back and longer towards his face, bounced, with him adding, a long finger singling me out.

“Kai's very attractive, kind of exotic looking—she is Black and Latin like us—brown skin, those doe eyes like an anime character...kind of on the petite side, cause you don't go for 'big' girls....”

The redness was rapidly spreading from Taj's ears and onto his face...it was no longer embarrassment.

It was becoming rage.

TJ was dancing over into 'Broken Boba Fett' territory with his brother and I could tell the few threads holding Taj's temper together were wearing thin.

Extremely thin.

The finger wiggled, indicating my bosom.

“...the only thing you do like big on girls is the tits and Kai has got--”

TJ choked off abruptly, lurching forward with Taj's hand jutting out, clutching the front of his shirt.

His eyes widened, realizing the severity of his goading too late, and reared back, Taj hovering over him menacingly, leaving him to flounder about and try to pull free, some soda dashing out onto the floor.

I hugged Choco tighter, bracing for a blow to land, on someone's nose, jaw, head...

A tooth or two to be sent airborne.

“I'm going to go up to my room and find something to watch...” Taj announced lowly, straight brows raising. “...I suggest you stay out of my eyesight for a while...”

TJ was flung against the island with a grunt, Taj storming away through the swinging door and I could hear him stomping up the staircase to the second floor in the distance.

“Asshole.”

TJ grumbled, tilting the can again and I couldn't help imploring, annoyed at having been dragged into the crosshairs so unceremoniously,

“What in the hell do you get out egging Taj on like that, TJ? You know as well I do, the topic of girlfriends and things like that is still very sensitive for him!”

The can now emptied, was crumpled and tossed away into the trash, TJ giving me a calm shrug in return and I wanted to kick him into oblivion.

“I dunno...” He mumbled, hands returning to his pockets and that highlighted head drooped, with him staring at the mosaic tiled floor under his long bare feet.

“....just I wanted to make sure...”

“Make sure of what?” I jerked my head back as Choco tried to nibble on my chin.

His eyes came up slightly, with TJ finishing in a deep tone, so deep it almost sounded phony considering his naturally soft voice,

“...that you didn't belong to Taj already...”

I felt my brows raise, but maintained my composure, noticing something about the way TJ regarded me as he had spoken.

The hard cast his eyes had contained while irking his brother, had faded, leaving behind a soft, genuine glow in their wake.

His look was genuine—he wasn't joking with me.

For once, he was being serious!

“You...like me, TJ?” I questioned, bouncing the lab against me.

The thicker brows flexed.

“Well yeah, Kai...since I met you in Business 101 last year...” He admitted with a wry chuckle, hands leaving his pockets, palms rubbing together in front of him.

“I mean...I could go for you in a big way...if you're not with Taj...”

“I'm not.” I assured him, moving my head out of Choco's mouth again.

“Well, then, girl...” TJ chewed on his bottom lip boyishly. “...what's stopping you?”

He did look so good.

“You know...” I reached out and tapped his left cheekbone with my fingertip, “...I could go for you too, TJ...only....only if it weren't for that one thing...”

Now the brows came together in bewilderment,

“What thing is that, Kai?”

He recoiled as I punched his shoulder rocking him.

“Yeowtch! Kai—what the hell?”

He gasped holding onto his arm, eyes bulging.

“If only you'd look into my face and not into my tits when you address me, TJ Jackson!”

With that, I was moving out to the front hall aiming for the staircase, intent on bringing Choco back to his owner.

TJ was swearing at the top of his lungs in Spanish after me, but it fell on deaf, unconcerned ears.

If he wanted a shot at me, he had to approach me correctly.

Ogling my chest was not the way to my heart...even if my chest did contain my heart!

Up a grand, spiral staircase, I found myself coming out in the dead center of the second floor, with it quiet, still and dim.

In the rear of the floor, overlooking the backyard were three rooms: Taryll's, which had been vacated as he was at his Little League tourney, TJ's beside it, and in the very back, catty-corner to them was the guest room I was calling home until my cooling unit was fixed, hopefully the next day,

On the opposing end of the floor, peering out over the front lawn, was the huge room Taj, as the first born in a string of three, had been bequeathed, , and I knew had been envied by his siblings all his and their lives.

Their father's master suite was all the way downstairs and just off the kitchen, leaving the Teez with essentially half a house to themselves.

And I could see one of the two doors to Taj's room had been left ajar, a stream of light coming out and stretching across the hardwood flooring.

Holding onto Choco, I made my way towards it, passing by framed portraits of the Teez as youngsters all in baseball uniforms, a passion that had stuck with them, in varying levels, throughout their lives.

Reaching the door, I tapped it timidly, with Taj barking back instantly,

“Leave me the hell alone, TJ!”

“It's Kai!” I corrected him. “I brought Choco up for you--”

The shaft of light was interrupted, Taj at the door, cracking it just far enough for his round face to peer out.

He eyed me a long moment, then opened the door wider, and waved me in with the TV Guide clutched in his hand.

Taj Jackson's boyhood bedroom seemed an extension of the man himself.

While it was dressed in sedate colors, shades of navy and cream, for the most part, it was clear to see his heart laid with his geeky pursuits.

A big screen television took up one wall, and on the shelving units around it were several gaming systems, an original Nintendo, a Nintendo 64, a Sega Genesis, and one of the Atari consoles with dozens of cartridges on display, along with a menagerie of action figures still in the box—except that damn Boba Fett—and what I guessed to be at least two hundred comic books, each in their own protective plastic sleeves.

Taj was rather OCD when it came to his collectibles and anything belonging to him in general.

The bed neatly made, was king-sized and on a platform of real Rubik's Cubes—it's comforter stark grey with “Nintendo” written on it, two of the pillows decorated to resemble the player controls.

“I was just about to come get you...” Taj spoke up,his tone brighter and friendlier, and if he were still bothered by his exchange with TJ in the kitchen, it no longer showed.

“Why?”

Stooping I set Choco down and he immediately ran to the wicker basket of pillows sufficing as his bed, yipping merrily.

“Another marathon is on Sci-Fi: Six hours of Sliders and then they're showing Hillbilly Holocaust. You in?” The Guide was cast off onto a bedside table, Taj moving from me to drag one of his beanbag chairs—in the shape of one of the Pac-Man ghosts—towards the foot of the bed.

“Sliders?” I hopped up onto the nearest corner of the bed, my legs dangling. “Heck yeah, I'm in—I love Jerry O'Connell....as for the Hillbilly...I'll think about it.”

“Now don't be a chicken, Kai!” Taj snorted, arranging the bag against the bed, before dropping down Indian-style onto it. “The film is from the seventies! There's nothing scary about a redneck with a chainsaw!”

“Bullshit!” I pushed the back of his giggling. “An inbred yokel, torturing and killing folks so he and all his deformed kin can have them for dinner—lie to me again, Taj!”

He'd said the same thing to me about The Exorcist and I spent three nights up walking the floors of my townhouse scared to sleep.

“Hand—ha-ha—hand me the remote, please!” He continued chuckling, pointing out the device on the comforter and I tossed it down into his lap.

The TV lit and the two of us settled in to binge-watch a program about a young man and his college professor bouncing around from one alternate universe to the next.

It was kind of like Quantum Leap, but geared at a younger generation.

My God, I was a nerd, just like Taj!

Why weren't we together?

* * *

“...what if you found a portal to a parallel universe....what if you could slide into a thousand different worlds...”

Four hours, and four episodes of Sliders later, both Taj and I had grown lackadaisical.

I had stretched out on top of the comforter—with my sneakers off lest that neat-freak scream bloody murder—and balanced on top of three of the eight pillows he had for his head, while he now slumped in his beanbag, arms tucked behind his head, eyes focused on the otherworldly images onscreen.

I was a fan of Sliders, and while the show itself was entertaining and engrossing, I found I couldn't concentrate and follow the storyline.

Instead, for a while, I had been staring down at the top of Taj's braided head, his scalp shining from the pomade he applied daily, trying to will myself to question him.

“...Little Caesar's Pizza By the Foot...”

As a commercial break took hold, Taj producing a small bag of chocolate M&Ms from his pocket, I tapped the glimmering scalp with my fingernail.

“Hmmm?” He mumbled through a mouthful of calories.

“Taj...” I hesitated, watching his head cock to the side, as he had outside my house earlier, attuning one of his ears in my direction to listen.

“...what kind of girls does TJ go for?”

More candies were thrown into Taj's mouth with him smacking thoughtfully a long moment, finally replying,

“Attractive girls. Fit, kind of on the petite side, like what I like...but curvy, you know, a girl that looks like a girl, nice--”

He turned suddenly, staring back at me.

“Are you into TJ, Kai?” He wondered pointedly, with a final crunch.

I felt myself shrugging, trying to keep the conversation as loose as possible.

“I don't know...maybe...if I'm not mistaken, I'm getting a vibe of interest off him.”

I lied.

That foofy-haired fool had full well disclosed his feelings for me in the kitchen!

Still...still if there were a chance for Taj...

The show resuming, Taj faced the screen and I almost didn't hear his next comment,

“It's about time he stopped dragging ass and got to the point with you.”

The world kind of collapsed around me, forcing me to replay every instance of my relationship with TJ Jackson in a new light.

Was he really into me? Attracted to me?

REALLY?

TJ had always been engaging, more outgoing than his older siblings and had always flirted with me, but I figured that was his way.

That he was a natural-born tease and nothing more to it.

I'd seen him tease plenty of our mutual female friends much as he had me. Treating girls to ice cream or complimenting them, just in general being a cool, laid-back, easy-going sort, as his wealth and looks did afford him the privilege.

Now...was there an underlying current to it all that I had missed?

My hand, all at once, cold and clammy clung to the pointy shoulder below me and as a result, realizing he'd said too much, Taj shifted and groaned.

“Taj--” I started and he interrupted me, complaining,

“If he ever knew I was telling you this, Kai, we'd have the knock-down, drag-out fight of the century 'cause he swore me to secrecy...but...”

His eyes darted to his shut bedroom door seriously, Taj propping himself on his knees on the bag, leaning into to me.

His eyes, transforming to dark, muddy brown, mirroring his demeanor returned to me, brows coming together.

Then he dropped an H-Bomb on me.

“TJ's been about you, since he met you.”

I felt my mouth form the word “what?”, but in my stunning and shock, I failed to make a sound.

He had been telling the truth!

How had I been so blind?

Spurred on by what I was sure read on my face as pure inquiry, Taj heaved another sigh, continuing, voice staying a bare whisper,

“A few weeks ago, over lunch, we were talking and somehow got on the topic of you, Kai. TJ didn't come right out and say it, he's too conceited for that, but what I got from the conversation was that he thought you and I were something...”

Taj's forehead rippled and he tried to recall exact phrases.

“He was on some shit about how he'd met you in class, and used to hang out together on campus, and then he brought you here, you know to meet Pops and Taryll and me...and how we seemed to get on so well because we're both into Sci-Fi stuff...”

Another bag of candies appeared and was torn open.

“...I think to an extent, even though he'd never admit it, TJ was jealous of me. Of us, Kai....”

He tossed his head, clearing the braids from his face for an unobstructed view.

“...I know I probably spend way more time with you, than he ever has...but we're always going to movies, hanging out, doing like we're doing now, watching Sci-Fi shows. We're friends! TJ...he...”

Taj hesitated and threw chocolate in his mouth, chewing.

“He thinks we're a couple.”

I finished for him sullenly, taking the bag when offered and pouring a few M&Ms into my hand.

I popped them in my mouth, but didn't taste them.

Taj was nodding at me. Corroborating what TJ had stated, albeit mistakenly.

“I mean...” Taj's eyes fell to his hands, wringing near my knee. “...in a different time and place, I would probably date you, Kai.”

I felt my entire forehead raise in surprise.

“But, after Miranda, what happened with all that...I just need some time to myself. I need to just be Taj. Not Taj and...someone else. I'm happy with where I am in life. I have my job for Uncle Michael. Just this morning I was up at three helping to deliver a baby elephant! And it was a breech birth! I have Choco...” He indicated the puppy, peacefully sleeping on his mound of pillows. “...hell, I'm even contemplating going back and playing for the Bruisers again...”

His eyes came up to me, showing a bright, poignant sadness.

“I don't know, maybe I am making a mistake, not moving forward with you, Kai...I'm just trying to stay true to myself. But....”

His hand was warm and soft as it gripped mine.

“You're a very nice girl, Kai. Sweet, funny, kind. I do think you'd be good for TJ. He's so high-strung and you're laid back and mellow, I feel like you'd even him out. I'd like to see you two together. I mean that. Im not so stuck up I'd prevent my brother from a chance at a meaningful relationship. He may act an ass, but he's good to his girlfriends. Treats a lady like a lady...and you deserve that.”

“Thank you, Taj...” My chest was aching and I didn't know why. Was it from hurt that I wouldn't be with him as I had wanted, or was I realizing I had been attracted to TJ all along and just misplaced my emotions towards his older brother instead?

“Oh, one more thing...” Taj let go of my hand and started to settle back on his bottom,

“Don't try to pursue TJ, let him come to you. And play hard-to-get a little—he likes a challenge.”

With that last remark of wisdom, Taj fell silent and I stared at the top of his head.

A challenge.

Oh, how I was going to be challenged.

Two Hours Later

“...bacon cheeseburger...extra cheese...no tomatoes...chili-cheese tots, small...large chocolate shake...”

I paced the carpeted floor of my guest room, the sound of my bare feet silenced by the oatmeal colored shag under me, tapping the eraser-end of a number two pencil to my chin.

In my other hand, I held a small spiral notepad, two other orders scribbled at the top of the page.

After about six hours of Sliders, and nothing but a gut full of nonsense, Taj's stomach had rumbled so loudly, he'd jumped up thinking someone was breaking in on us.

Just his body hollering “feed me, fool!”

And being too lazy to put his shoes back on and drive to a fast-food joint, we were ordering in from the only burger place in the Hills to deliver—McGinty's.

Over mine, in neat, concise writing, Taj was going to get a double cheeseburger, large fries and an extra-large, extra-thick chocolate shake. He had a love affair with chocolate that didn't quit.

TJ's order was ridiculous,and written sloppily, in drunken looking script that fell out of the lines across the page.. Triple bacon cheeseburger,with jalapenos, large onion rings with ranch dressing...and two large strawberry shakes. Only an athlete could eat so much and not look like Fat Albert!

I gained a pound just reading it.

My own writing was legible, I was a lefty, so my penmanship left much to be desired.

Mulling over the page one last time, I slid the pencil into the metal spiral to take it to Taj so he could call the order.

I turned for the door, and jumped, throwing the pad in front of me.

“Oh!”

The pad landed at TJ's bare feet, with him leaning lazily in the open door, gazing at me, much as he had in the kitchen, but his eyes nowhere near my face.

In the lull, I had changed out of my sweats into a nightshirt and as I watched TJ, his eyes started at the graphic on the pink shirt-- “I'm Too Sleepy”-- falling down to my legs, bared from just below the knee by the shirt.

“Kai...” He started slowly, eyes moving back and forth, but never meeting mine. “...you decided what you want? Taj's gut sounds like D-Day, all the noise it's making--”

“Yes--”

TJ squatted in one liquid motion, picking up the pad, studying it.

Slowly, he sauntered across the floor towards me, his left brow rising.

“Large chocolate shake...” He echoed, blinking. “You like chocolate, Kai?”

“Well, yeah...” I stammered, as he removed the pencil and erase something.

“I think I'll get chocolate too...” He informed me writing, sculpted nostrils flaring as he questioned, voice lowering.

“...shame I can't fit you in a glass, Kai.”

My throat tightened, that curly head lifting, hand raising, TJ coming still closer, his black currant-spiked scent filling my nose.

His fingertips raked through my loose hair, over my ear and to the back of my neck.

He was holding my neck!

I braced, my own breaths accelerating, bumps of excitement taking my dermis.

His eyes, those golden-glinting orbs fixated on mine a long moment, his mouth curling to the side deviously.

“You know...you're right...” He leaned closer to me, brows flexing, lashes fluttering.

Air from his streamlined nose collided with mine.

“A...about what?” Why was I suddenly hoarse?

“It is very nice looking into your eyes when I talk to you....”

I trembled, his palm tracing my jawline, he maintained eye contact with me a moment longer.

Then, TJ was moving from me out into the hall, where Taj had appeared at the top of the stairs.

The pad was passed off, TJ jogging on downstairs, leaving Taj to glance at it, then stare out at me.

I met his look steadily, with him finally shaking his head and older brother following younger down.

Timidly, I put my hand to my jaw, where TJ had touched, his palm had been so soft and warm.

And those bumps of excitement erupted all over me.

His touch...I had enjoyed his touch.

What was I tangled in?

And could I get myself out, even if I tried?

“...there's some good horror pictures coming on tonight...I'm glad I read further into the TV Guide or I'd have missed it all...”

Taj called over his shoulder, leading the way back up the spiral staircase, eating the last of his tots from a Styrofoam container.

“...Hillbilly Holocaust, then The Last One, and then, Lunatic Asylum! Definitely not sleeping tonight!” He chuckled, and was interrupted by an obnoxious guttural noise.

Behind me, TJ completed our trio, bringing up the rear and sucking the last few bits of his shake out of a cup, gazing sullenly at Taj over my head.

He was still erroneously envious.

And it was my own fault.

Following Taj's instruction of playing “hard-to-get”, I had distanced myself from TJ over dinner,opting to sit beside Taj at the island in the kitchen, rather than him.

It didn't help matters that Taj and I had become deeply engrossed in a conversation about Marvel and DC comics, TJ sitting as a silent third wheel, angrily chewing his massive burger.

Trying to ease the tension, I forced a giggle.

“You'll be up enjoying the films; I'll be up all night too scared to sleep!”

“That's just like a girl...” Taj snorted, opening the door to his room, “...frightened of makeup effects and a few gallons of bogus blood--”

“Shut up!” I shoved Taj on the back of the head, causing him to stumble and much to my annoyance he laughed all the harder at me.

Throwing more fried potatoes into his mouth, Taj crossed to the far end of the room and raised a hand to the thermostat.

Overhead, there was a whir as the air kicked on blowing briskly.

I shook my head after him as I dropped back down onto the foot of the bed; he just wasn't happy unless he was somewhere near hypothermia. Before the night would be over, I knew I'd be wrapped up in his comforter for warmth. I always stole the comforter when he turned his room into a meat freezer.

A shadow fell across me, TJ leaning in, whispering, his breath smelling loudly of the chocolate shake,

“Kai...”

His eyes went to Taj, picking up another ghost bag, a few feet away.

“Don't rely on him...rely on me....I'm all you need....”

I regarded him a long moment and my entire belly tightened.

TJ was raising a long, slim leg to climb up on the bed to join me!

There was a strange cast to his face.

It was odd...he didn't quite look himself, if that makes sense.

His face, usually so attractive with a goofy, arrogant and careless grin most of the time, appeared darker, his features morbid.

I had never witnessed such an expression on him in all my life.

Why did he look so sinister?

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, with him tossing the cup in a trash basket shaped like R2D2.

Taj materialized beside his sibling, the bag in hand.

“You're sitting with me.” Taj's other hand was on TJ's muscular bicep, pulling him off the comforter. “You're not getting in my bed with a girl--”

“Bro! I'm a grown ass man!” TJ began to struggle to free himself. “I know how to act--”

“Grandpa's birthday three years ago.” Taj declared and all struggling ceased on a dime, TJ snatching the bag and dropping down onto it, bringing his knees to his chest, outright avoiding eye contact with me.

TJ had cut up like this before?

And I had to implore,

“Taj, what happened--”

“She don't need to know all that!” TJ's voice came out shrilly, with him latching onto Taj's pant leg in an effort to silence him and keep the surely embarrassing tale from my ears. .

“Well, you see TJ was with—SHIT!”

Taj started playfully and shrieked, his printed bottoms falling to his ankles via a sharp tug revealing cherry-red briefs.

“Goddamn you!” TJ's head jerked severely, Taj smacking him on the crown, bending to yank his pants back up over skinny legs!

“You got some damn nerve!” Taj gasped, eyes huge. “Almost made me flash Kai--”

“And she'd have gone blind, too seeing that 'Vienna Sausage'—Ow!” TJ hollered, Taj hitting him a second time, TJ lurching and tackling Taj, the two tumbling to the floor.

“Hey-fellas!”

I was on my feet in alarm, the pair starting to struggle, a brown fist raising, TJ intent on punching Taj.

“Don't fight! Stop—TJ!”

Distracted by me, TJ looked up and found Taj holding him in a half-Nelson, arm squeezing on his throat, TJ digging at his arm, but unable to pull loose.

“Taj!” I cried, hands to my cheeks in distress, TJ's eyes were rolling, curls falling into his darkening face as blood rushed to his cheeks—he was going to pass out!

“Stop it Taj!” I grabbed onto one of Taj's arms in a fruitless bid to free TJ. “Let him go! Please!”

“I'm gonna let you go!” Taj grunted, resting on his knees, dragging TJ and myself with him.

“And when I let you go, you're gonna sit on your flat ass and watch the movie, or I'll work on you some more! ALRIGHT?”

TJ took too long and was shaken, hair flying.

“I said ALRIGHT?”

TJ mumbled something close to a yes and was released, falling to his hands and knees, panting.

“I hate yo ass--”

“And I love I was on the wrestling team in high school.” Taj snickered,peeling my hand from his forearm, and gave me a gentle push, indicating I return to my seat on the bed.

Once I was back atop the comforter, he crossed the room, closing the door.

The overhead light went out, but the bedside lamp illuminated, the glow thrown on me, to ensure I was left alone.

“Mess with that girl and I'll tear you up some more--” Taj warned and flagrantly, TJ threw his head.

“Maybe she likes me messing with her!”

“Stop talking to me please.”

His hand was thrust into TJ's face, but stopped centimeters from his nose.

Had they touched it'd have taken the entire LAPD and perhaps Coast Guard to get those two apart.

The television lit, with the opening credits of Hillbilly Holocaust starting to roll, with a small cabin in a densely wooded forest coming into view, Taj sat on his bag, Choco sniffing around the toes of his sneakers, large hand scratching at the tiny furry head absently..

Beside him, TJ stared back at me eyes dark and perturbed, one brow up jauntily.

But said no more.

The head slowly turned from me.

* * *

“...you have got to be putting me on right now Kai! You're joking--”

“Yeah, that's right, I'm in a really big, joking-ass mood, Taj!”

“But the film hasn't even been on a good twenty minutes yet! You can't possibly be that scared already! Kai—Kai!”

A hand laid itself on my shoulder, which I shook off instantly, stubbornly hugging myself to the smooth, polished banister of the curving staircase, seating myself on one of the steps midway down it.

Pale, bare feet and those garishly colored Flash pajama bottoms came into view, Taj Jackson standing on the step directly below me.

“Hillbilly Holocaust isn't even that scary!” He repeated, going after my shoulder again. “It's mostly jump-scares and slashing--”

“Why the hell do you think they call it a jump scare?” I rolled my eyes, staring out over the dimmed living room adjacent to us.

“It scared the shit out of me!”

“Who you telling? You screamed right in my damn ear!” Taj shot back, hand coming down to try to loosen my arms.

He drew back when I attempted to bite him.

“Alright! Alright!” He cried, exasperated. “Fine, I see you don't want to reason with me! But it's just a movie! It's all make-believe Kai--”

“I don't care!”

“Stay here then! I'm going back because I want to actually see the picture--”

“Good for you Taj Jackson, remind me to throw you a parade in the morning for your bravery!”

“Okay Kai, but if you find some courage laying around out here, you're welcome to come back and watch TV in my room.”

Much to my annoyance, he patted the top of my head,like I was that damn puppy of his, and started back up.

Groaning to myself, I didn't know whom I was more angry at, him or myself.

Probably myself for allowing a stupid film, older than myself to get my goat.

But hell, you just don't expect to see a guy hitchhiking one minute, standing on the side of some lonely stretch of road with his thumb stuck out, minding his own business, and then the next he's swarmed and besieged by a bunch of inbred, gap-toothed hicks, being dragged off and wholly portioned off like a Christmas goose!

And the sickening crunch his skull made when he was knocked out with a ball-peen hammer, one of his eyeballs shooting clear across the room!

Of course I hauled ass and ran!

I trembled, the senseless gore replaying all too vividly in my mind.

“Kai.”

Peeking over my shoulder, I saw a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and brown feet on the step beside me.

“What, TJ?” I grumbled shifting, embarrassment setting in, putting my back to him. “Taking your turn to come tease me for being freaked out too?”

“No...”

I felt him sit just behind me.

“I....I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, I'm all ears!” I shot back bitterly, pressing my forehead against the wood.

“I...I meant what I said earlier...” Hands, warm and a touch clammy, fell on my shoulders, kneading after them.

“...to stop relying on Taj. I keep looking at the two of you together and it's fucking pitiful, Kai. I can tell you're into him and he's just not reciprocating it. You're his friend....just his friend Kai. He's just not on the same level you are Kai. I can tell that you want...that you need someone in your life. I don't blame you, everyone does. And all Taj wants to do is geek it up, watching those horror flicks, and eat candy. I don't blame him either, especially after how that Miranda bitch screwed him over and gave him such a raw deal in the end....but that doesn't have anything to do with you, Kai. That was before we even knew you...”

I was tugged lightly, TJ pulling me back against his chest, the scent of those black currants sneaking into my nostrils.

“Taj is broken, and doesn't want to be fixed Kai...you're wasting your time...”

His pointed chin rested atop my head.

“Frankly, I'm tired, Kai. Tired of sitting on my ass and watching you trying to make something out of nothing. Taj doesn't want to do anything with you... but me...”

“TJ--”

I gasped as I was suddenly dropped back further, his arms wrapping around my midsection.

His eyes were serious, the golden glint gone, leaving them stark brown with sternness, brows flexing as he added quietly, in such a way it caused my heart to slam against my rib cage.

“...I've been trying for the longest to give you everything...my heart...my body...my soul...and you keep looking the other way!”

For some reason, unknown to even myself, I got that odd 'fight or flight' response to this revelation and managed to break free of his hold, rising to my feet quickly.

“You just expect me to switch gears like that TJ?” I demanded, leaning against the opposite railing glaring down at him. “Just expect me to drop Taj like a bad habit--”

What was I doing?

“Taj IS a bad habit for you, Kai, goddamn!” It was TJ's turn to get on is feet, hands clenching into balled fists at his side, jaw muscles wiggling.

“You forget I had my long tall ass right there. You got scared during the movie and was all wrapped around his arm. Did he comfort you? Did he hold you or anything? No! He was too busy eating them candy bars to bother about you! You don't even get consideration over a Milky Way!”

I felt myself shrink within myself as TJ came nearer, towering over me.

“I know you're not stupid, and I know you're not crazy! Get Taj out your head! You're acting like you had something! Like you were a couple! Like you...you....”

TJ stammered, hands going into his curls with consternation and he finally, shrieked his thought tactlessly,

“...like you was fucking! And you weren't! You never have!”

A bruised ego was making me pick a fight I didn't even want.

My hands on my hips, I glared up at him saucily, retorting,

“And how the hell would you know--”

“Taj likes to talk.” TJ responded dryly. “He don't shut up. He shoot off at the mouth about everything he does with a girl. That's part of why Miranda said adios to him: he's in the habit of kissing and telling! Motormouth from Hell! You want him to blab everything you do together--”

TJ physically bumped me with his chest making me stumble against the railing.

“I don't talk...whatever happens between us, will stay between us Kai...”

Bold and ridiculous as ever I bucked up to him just the same.

“There is nothing between us, but hot air, TJ Jackson--”

His mouth was on mine.

He was kissing me—TJ was kissing me!

His arms, those taut, muscular arms around me, holding me, squeezing me, mashing me up against his bosom.

Where I could feel his heart pounding.

His mouth so hot, tender, moist, still tasting quite loudly of the chocolate shakes he'd downed at dinner.

My hands were on his hips, I remember that clearly.

My hands gripping and holding onto his hips, not pulling him closer, not pushing him away.

Just touching him.

His lips working across mine, lightly, yet knowingly....he was a very skilled kisser if nothing else.

After quite a long interval, in which my breathing had picked up along with my blood pressure, he pulled his mouth from mine, pausing then pecking each of my cheeks and my bottom lip, inquiring those thick brows rising suggestively, rubbing the tip of is nose along mine.

“Do you still want my brother?”

I felt like I was in a tornado and through all the haze and wildly mixed and ignited and aroused emotions, emotions I didn't know where there until that very moment, I heard myself timidly stammer,

“I don't know—TJ!”

His hand was right in the middle of my back, shoving me forward, up the stairs to the second level with such strictness, I was close to falling with each step I took.

“TJ—TJ, wait! TJ, stop! TJ!”

I begged as we came out on the landing, TJ starting to guide me towards the rooms to the rear of the floor, it dawned on me just what TJ was doing.

Where he was going with me...his sordid intentions.

“TAJ, HEL--”

The hand covered my mouth, TJ's mouth by my ear.

“Still calling for my damn brother! Still wanting my damn brother! I'm going to see to it that you forget about my damn brother, Kai!”

We fought.

No...I made a futile attempt at escape, desperately trying to pull away and TJ, that towering pillar of athletic prowess overpowered me in seconds, easily picking me up, and continuing on his merry way with me on down the hall to the open door to my room.

I did kick and flail up a storm but it was no use.

TJ had the upper hand.

I realized that as soon as we passed over the threshold, and he nudged the door shut with his foot after us.

And there I was...pressed against the far corner of the room, so close,yet so incredibly far away from my freedom.

TJ's hands on my shoulders, holding me in place, his lips, those little warm, moist, genteel pieces of pinkish flesh bumping their way around my face, across my cheeks, over my nose, against my forehead.

Falling again and again onto my lips. Mashing them, kissing them, sucking them.

Each time his lips pressed mine, I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper.

Thinking less and less about Taj...focusing more and more on TJ.

I found myself slowly, but quite surely, doing what TJ had asked:

Forget all about Taj.

The room was dark...had TJ turned off the light?

No...no...no...

The light had already been off.

After he'd shut the door, I'd managed to break free of him and in the dimness, only faintly lit by a backyard light in the distance, I had run to the far corner of the room.

I hoped to hide from him, conceal myself from his sight.

But it had been in vain.

TJ had made somewhat of a direct beeline to me.

Confronted me.

Commenced to kissing me.

And yes, while I was there, with my back to the wall, TJ's arms starting to wrap me, press me against him, our hearts beating in tandem with one another, I indeed felt the shift within myself.

Wondering how I had managed to...overlook TJ for so long.

Sure he was Taj's 'little' brother, but he was still a year older than me...he wasn't a kid.

He certainly wasn't acting like a kid right then.

Even if he were a touch arrogant and conceited at times, he had every right to be, as handsome as he was.

The devil.

Those chiseled features.

The wild, untamed mane of curls.

Those eyes with the flecks of gold hidden within.

And that mouth.

That persuasive mouth.

The longer he kissed me, the more frequently, the harder they came, I replayed what Taj had said to me.

How he had told me to my face that he wanted to see me with TJ.

How I'd balance him out.

Both had been right, so painfully, clearly, utterly right.

Why waste myself on a man who really wasn't bothered, when I could have one that was?

And he was trying his damndest to give himself to me right then!

“Tee...Tee...TJ...” I spoke off into his mouth timidly, finding my hand on his chest and feeling that heartbeat pounding so rapidly beneath.

“Yes?” His breath still smelled of chocolate. He was a walking candy bar!

Those eyes glinted at me so alluringly.

“I...have a pretty good idea of what it is you're trying to do...and...”

I trailed off, bringing my fingertips up to his pointed chin.

Grazing them across his smooth flesh.

“...and if I let you do this...what does it mean for us?”

“It means whatever you want it to mean, Kai.” He told me pointedly.

I studied him, feeling myself smirk and watched as the same curl came to his mouth in agreement.

We had an understanding right away.

Perhaps we'd always had it and only then recognized it.

“It means I get you: heart, body, and soul, as you so eloquently put it, out on the stairs.” I replied and was smothered greedily with another kiss.

There was a tiny click and one of the two bedside lamps came on, throwing a beam of light on the two of us.

“I...I want to see you...” TJ confided, sucking in his bottom lip sheepishly.

“You want me to...” I echoed and was met by a light, boyish chuckle,

“Yeah, Baby...”

I fell back against the wall, maintaining my eye contact with him.

There was something so commanding, so dominating about his eyes, I'd never noticed it before.

How had I never noticed it?

That thought went onto the back burner as did pretty much everything else my hands falling to the hem of my nightshirt, and slowly, on purpose, I raised it.

Revealing my legs, shimmering with cocoa butter under the fluorescent bulb, and my panties, pink, covered with little multicolored stars.

As the shirt went up, I noticed, so did TJ's immaculately arched brows.

Up over my flat tummy.

“Ah!”

I heard his sharp intake of breath as the shirt came over my head, my bosom, which he had so candidly referred to as “big tits” out for all to see.

My breasts were quite large, almost too large for my minuscule frame, standing up off my sternum and though natural to me, I had been asked more than once if they were 'real'.

They were, and were spectacular.

They had to be the way TJ's eyes lit up, his nostrils beginning to flap, his chest rising and falling.

Then it was my turn to give a gasp, my eyes falling momentarily from his.

Down to his voluminous bottoms...where, even in all the bagginess, I could make out a bulge pressing the fabric, unerringly.

It was long, impressively long I had to saw, but I could very easily make it all out.

The girthy, hardened shaft, standing up so proudly and drifting ever so slightly to the right.

The tip, outlined so perfectly, shaped just like an umbrella cap, beckoning me.

Without a thought, I went to grab after him and found my hand in his, TJ kissing the top of it, those haunting eyes on me.

“No...” A finger wagged at me and continuing to grasp my hand, he stepped behind me,

embraced m from behind, his mouth on my neck, sucking, hands cradling my globed.

Instantly, my eyes were shut with an overwhelming ecstasy, my own hand back, caressing te back of his long neck and tangling up in his poof of curls.

Feeling that mass between his legs bumping against my backside as he rubbed against me, his touch further raising my temperature and luring me to him all the more.

Large hands graced my hips the scant piece of cotton that were my underwear falling to my ankles.

“Oh God!” The cry burst from my lips, my head falling back, his fingertips pushing my folds back and playing in places he'd never seen before.

“You're...” His voice was hot in my ear again. “...so moist and dewy, Honey...”

“All for you.” I managed bobbing as he found my little bud and pressed on it.

At such a sudden, outrageous sensation, which flew through my nude body like an lightning bolt, my knees buckled and I slipped from his arms sinking to the floor, my upper half, just by chance, catching and draping across the side of the neatly made bed.

And through the haze of my vision, I caught TJ's reflection in the mirror above the dresser across from us.

In time to see him yanking his white top off and dropping it to the floor.

Exposing that tight, defined, sinewy upper body of his.

The muscles hardened as was the rest of him and rippling, flexing with his every movement.

The pecs, the six-pack abs, the biceps and the triceps.

The deep, beautiful little nipples, erect in the cooled air.

A perfect specimen of masculinity.

All carved, bestowed by God and fine-tuned by TJ.

He was too, too sexy!

How had I not taken note of all his charms?

Had I been that ignorant?

That stupid?

“I...I don't think I can wait much longer....”

His voice dropped an octave, lashes fluttering as he came up behind me.

Again, I was hugged from behind ad helped up, onto the very edge of the bed.

His arms so tightly around me, in an embrace that I never wanted to end.

How badly I wanted to stay in his arms, how badly I never wanted him to let me go.

His curled head dipped, with him starting on my left shoulder, pecking my flesh, delicately moving my hair aside as he worked his way across to the right.

His eyes on me the entire time in the mirror.

They refused to leave me.

He was staring, gawking, admiring.

“Kai...”

I trembled as his hand ran the length of my spine.

“...do you want me?”

I started to nod and there was a yank on my hair, bending me backwards, his lips consuming mine.

“Oh! Oh! OH! OH! OH! TJ! Oh God! OH!”

“Si...si, bebe!Te encanta lo que te estoy haciendo, ¿no? ¡Si tu puedes! ¡Si tu puedes! ¡Dios mío!”

What he was doing to me...the things he was doing to me...the things I was allowing to be done!

I was on my hands and knees, sinking into the mattress, rocking back and forth, more quickly than I ever imagined possible.

TJ's hands, so strong and assured, circled my bare hips, guiding me, over and over, each pass causing him to plunge ever more deeper into my wanton, steamy depth, forcing me to stretch around, accept, nay take the very lengths of him within.

Foreplay? What was foreplay? Just a device used by weaklings who don't really know what they want.

TJ and I, on the other hand, knew exactly what the other wanted and were well on our way to delivering it.

In my ear, TJ, had been repeating that phrase in Spanish, his voice becoming hoarser and gruffer, his teeth eventually showing in a sexualized sneer from his effort.

He felt so good to me.

I even cherished each bone-crushing collision the fur of his pubis made as is connected with my backside.

“Yes...yes baby! You love what I'm doing to you, don't you? Yes you do! Yes you do! Oh, god damn!”

he said it again, and I sank further into the mattress, my own breathing heavy and labored by comparison to his, his silken, perspiring front meshing with my back.

The faint, wet, clapping noise our nether regions made.

His hands grasped my breasts, seemingly for dear life.

His chin on my shoulder.

“Look....look at us...” He ordered harshly, this time in English, “Look at us, Kai....how we look!”

“I...I can't!” I whimpered, my eyes squinching shut even tighter, only aware of the feeling.

The feeling of ecstasy overtaking my entire being.

“Yes you can!” His hand was under my chin, lifting my dropping head and our eyes met in the reflection.

A subtle sheen of sweat covered his skin, causing him to glow proudly.

A beacon of sensuality he was, that was the only way to describe how he looked to me then.

Thick, arched brows raised inquisitively at me, lips sicked in, the beads of sweat on his brow dropping off and landing on me.

The two of us convulsing in the act of lewdness.

My own glowing reddened face, wild eyes, bosom swaying with each powerful thrust.

We did look good together, like we belonged.

Indeed, we did belong together.

We were together!

And it was all happening so quickly, like a speeding bullet.

TJ's pace suddenly increased.

He didn't have to tell me, there were no need for words, I sensed it.

He was close to his climax and as he began slamming into me with a ferocity with which I never knew existed.

“Si...si...si...si....SI...SI....SI...FUCK!...SI....SI...SI! AAAAAH! SI! SI! SI! SI! SI! SI!”

In my ear, TJ took to screaming, sweat at once pouring from his body, his arms around my waist and digging in so hard I felt one of my ribs pop.

But there was no way for me to stop him, no way to try.

Even if I had wanted him to.

All I could do was press my face into the plaid comforter and cry out, my legs starting to tremble as I finally, finally gave into to this act.

“TJ! TJ! TJ! OH MY GOD! UGH! UGH! UGH! Damn you! OH! OH! OH! OOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

And at the same time as I was surrendering, so did TJ, via a singular, hot spurt deep within my womanly walls.

“DIOS MIO!”

We collapsed.

Huffing, wheezing, struggling for breath, him still completely on my back, his arms resting on either side of my head to keep him from altogether crushing me.

We laid there, a good, long, while, the only sounds, that of our breathing returning to normal.

Shifting from frenetic to normal.

“Kai....” He was kissing after my damp neck.

“Hmmm?”

“I'm a selfish man....” He informed me, pushing himself up and turning me over so that I could look up at him, his cheeks still glowing maroon.

“I don't want to have to share you with Taj--”

I pressed a hand to his lips and felt my eyes dance in their sockets.

“You won't. I'm yours, all yours...”

I purred and I'll never forget his smile.

So big, so bright, so relieved.

So undeniably in love.

“...so, after the repairman leaves, maybe me and you can swing by the Comic Stand, to see if that new issue of the X-Men ever got restocked. I missed it last time...”

Taj was rambling, pouring himself a second heaping helping of Cap'm Crunch into a large bowl and dousing it with milk.

Keeping my head lowered over my own bowl, I snuck a glance across the table at TJ, slathering a slice of toast thickly with strawberry jam.

He returned the gaze, and with that supercilious smirk I knew too well, he tossed his foofy-head and announced,

“You don't have to worry about that Taj; I'll be with Kai today and I'll cover the repairs to her air conditioning system too.”

Question marks appeared briefly in his eyes, spoon held midair with Taj looking first at his younger sibling, then over at me.

And the same smirk appeared on his face with a new understanding.

“That's fine--”

Bring! Bring! Bring!

Interrupted by the phone jangling in the far corner, Taj smiled harder and slid off his stool ambling towards it.

Reaching across, TJ grabbed my hand.

“Glad I'm the only one on your mind...” He whispered, brows dancign on his forehead.

“Me too--”

“Hey!” Taj called to us turning purple as a prune. “Taryll's team won the tournament! They're the regional champs! Hot damn!”

Getting to his feet, TJ tugged me. “Let's go congratulate the winner!”

“How are you gonna congratulate yourself?”

I teased and was pulled around the island, TJ hugging me to crowing with laughter.