Read Online Maybe Never by Nia Forrester - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nia Forrester
Tags: United States, Literary, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Women's Fiction, Literary Fiction, African American, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages)
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constantly grabbing and nudging him, yoking an arm about his neck and pulling him aside for private jokes. Mrs. Cole regarded them both with exasperated and indulgent smiles, shaking her head at Tracy and rolling her eyes when they got really noisy.
All her preparation to impress Brendan’s mother, to win her over, seemed to have been unnecessary. The minute they’d met her in the airport, Mrs. Cole had hugged and kissed her, and Mr. Cole had done the same taking her bag, and as they walked through the terminal complained good-naturedly about traffic, as natural and comfortable as though they’d known her forever. Tracy couldn’t think of very much to say the entire drive to their house.
If you don’t just raise your voice and jump right in, they’ll talk over you all day long , Brendan warned Tracy, leaning in to her as they walked in the front door.
Tracy had nodded and looked about, taking in the neat, tastefully-furnished suburban home with wraparound porch and pale blue shutters at the windows. The Coles were both retired schoolteachers and had always lived a modest life, until their son bought them this home for their retirement. It had only been over dinner that first evening in a local soul food restaurant that Tracy learned the real reason Brendan had never brought her over for holidays. The Coles were living their retirement dream of traveling to each and every continent. In the last three years alone had visited almost ten countries in Africa, Asia and South America.
While they regaled Tracy with stories about their latest trip, to Brazil, she’d leaned over and whispered to Brendan.
You never told me , she said, that they were traveling .
And Brendan had shrugged as though he never thought about it.
Her suspicion had always been that it was because he wasn’t sure he wanted her to meet his parents. It seemed foolish now, the convoluted reasons she’d spun in her mind for the scarcity of Brendan’s parents. She’d imagined that he thought they would hate her, or that they already did hate her for some unknown reason. Or that some other childhood girlfriend was waiting in the wings who they favored as a mate for their son. And all this time it was the most innocent of reasons. Brendan had never introduced her to his parents because they were almost never around. It was just that simple.
Tracy reached for his hand, which had been resting on the table.
That night, when the house was quiet and she was assured that his parents were asleep, tired though she was, Tracy had turned in Brendan’s arms so she was facing him. She couldn’t see in the dark, but groped downward until she could feel him, and peeled his boxer briefs over his hips, sliding down to take him in her mouth. His quiet, rhythmic breaths, and the knowledge that she was in his parents’ home as his fiancée; all of it made her almost feverish with excitement.
Brendan too, for he had pulled her up after only a few minutes, pressed her back against the sheets and spread her wide, rutting into her in the dark, his mouth working from her neck to her jaw and finally finding her lips, biting them before pressing his tongue aggressively into her mouth. Sometimes—maybe even most of the time—they made love, but that night they had fucked, Brendan lifting her, moving her, arranging her the way he wanted and then not sparing a moment before shoving into her once again. When she came, Tracy had to stifle her scream in a pillow and Brendan had groaned out his own release, face buried in her hair.
This morning, he was going out to play golf with his Dad, and Tracy would go with his mother to look at dresses for the wedding and for lunch afterwards. Before they even got to Charlotte, Tracy had insisted that Brendan tell his parents the reason they were getting married so soon. She didn’t want to be in the room to hear their reaction, but when he’d gotten off the phone, Brendan had come back to tell her they were “excited.” Having met
All her preparation to impress Brendan’s mother, to win her over, seemed to have been unnecessary. The minute they’d met her in the airport, Mrs. Cole had hugged and kissed her, and Mr. Cole had done the same taking her bag, and as they walked through the terminal complained good-naturedly about traffic, as natural and comfortable as though they’d known her forever. Tracy couldn’t think of very much to say the entire drive to their house.
If you don’t just raise your voice and jump right in, they’ll talk over you all day long , Brendan warned Tracy, leaning in to her as they walked in the front door.
Tracy had nodded and looked about, taking in the neat, tastefully-furnished suburban home with wraparound porch and pale blue shutters at the windows. The Coles were both retired schoolteachers and had always lived a modest life, until their son bought them this home for their retirement. It had only been over dinner that first evening in a local soul food restaurant that Tracy learned the real reason Brendan had never brought her over for holidays. The Coles were living their retirement dream of traveling to each and every continent. In the last three years alone had visited almost ten countries in Africa, Asia and South America.
While they regaled Tracy with stories about their latest trip, to Brazil, she’d leaned over and whispered to Brendan.
You never told me , she said, that they were traveling .
And Brendan had shrugged as though he never thought about it.
Her suspicion had always been that it was because he wasn’t sure he wanted her to meet his parents. It seemed foolish now, the convoluted reasons she’d spun in her mind for the scarcity of Brendan’s parents. She’d imagined that he thought they would hate her, or that they already did hate her for some unknown reason. Or that some other childhood girlfriend was waiting in the wings who they favored as a mate for their son. And all this time it was the most innocent of reasons. Brendan had never introduced her to his parents because they were almost never around. It was just that simple.
Tracy reached for his hand, which had been resting on the table.
That night, when the house was quiet and she was assured that his parents were asleep, tired though she was, Tracy had turned in Brendan’s arms so she was facing him. She couldn’t see in the dark, but groped downward until she could feel him, and peeled his boxer briefs over his hips, sliding down to take him in her mouth. His quiet, rhythmic breaths, and the knowledge that she was in his parents’ home as his fiancée; all of it made her almost feverish with excitement.
Brendan too, for he had pulled her up after only a few minutes, pressed her back against the sheets and spread her wide, rutting into her in the dark, his mouth working from her neck to her jaw and finally finding her lips, biting them before pressing his tongue aggressively into her mouth. Sometimes—maybe even most of the time—they made love, but that night they had fucked, Brendan lifting her, moving her, arranging her the way he wanted and then not sparing a moment before shoving into her once again. When she came, Tracy had to stifle her scream in a pillow and Brendan had groaned out his own release, face buried in her hair.
This morning, he was going out to play golf with his Dad, and Tracy would go with his mother to look at dresses for the wedding and for lunch afterwards. Before they even got to Charlotte, Tracy had insisted that Brendan tell his parents the reason they were getting married so soon. She didn’t want to be in the room to hear their reaction, but when he’d gotten off the phone, Brendan had come back to tell her they were “excited.” Having met
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