Chapter 3

• JEMIMAH
• The door to Keon’s room was still half-open when Jeriah’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade.
• “What the fuck is this?”
• Keon’s hands froze on the zipper at the small of my back. He didn’t turn around right away. He just exhaled, slow, and kept his voice low.
• “Woah, woahhh, brother. It’s not what you think. I’m just helping her out with the dress. The zipper’s stuck. That’s it.”
• Jeriah’s eyes moved from Keon’s hands to the open back of the dress, then to my face. The look he gave his brother was the kind you give something you stepped in and want scraped off your shoe. He looked disgusted, he didn't hide it. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
• He just sighed, shook his head once, and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him harder than it needed to.
• I didn’t wait for Keon to finish. I stepped away from his hands, muttered something that wasn’t even words, and left. My bare feet were quiet on the hallway floor. I found the room I had been told was Jeriah’s without asking anyone. It was exactly how I envisioned it; large, dark. The kind of space that felt like it had swallowed light on purpose.
• I went straight into the bathroom and locked the door.
• The water was hot enough to sting. I stayed under it longer than I needed to, letting steam fog the glass, trying to wash the earlier moment off my skin.
• When I finally stepped out, I dried off and pulled on the only thing I had brought that felt like armor and invitation at the same time; a black lingerie set that clung to every curve, the lace cups low enough to show the soft rise of my breasts. I looked at myself in the mirror for three full seconds and then looked away.
• The bedroom was darker than the hallway. Only the faint outline of the massive bed was visible. I started moving towards it, with my arms folded across my stomach, telling myself I would just sleep and deal with everything else in the morning.
• A strong and heavy hand dragged my upper arm.
• Jeriah.
• His face was the same as always...cold, unreadable, like whatever lived behind his eyes had been locked away years ago and the key thrown out.
• “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
• I pointed at the bed because my voice didn’t want to work yet.
• He laughed. It wasn’t amusement. It was meaner and quieter.
• “That bed is for me and my girlfriend. You either take the floor or the couch. Your choice.”
• Before I could answer, the door opened again.
• Amy walked in like she owned the air in the room. The nightie she wore was thin enough that the shape of her body moved with every step. Her nipples were visible, the shadow between her thighs were clear even in the dark. She didn’t look at me. She walked straight to him.
• Jeriah’s hand left my arm. In the same motion he pushed me sideways, with his palm flat against my shoulder. I staggered, and hit my head against the wall.
• He didn’t even glance back.
• His other hand went to Amy’s throat almost immediately, his fingers spread along the side of her neck, and his thumb was under her jaw. He pulled her in and kissed her deeply like he was starving for days.
• The sound of it was wet and hungry. Amy made a soft noise against his mouth and pressed closer, one hand sliding under the hem of his shirt.
• I stayed against the wall, my breathing was too fast, watching because I didn’t know where else to look.
• My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
• “Can I not sleep in the guest room? Please. Can I just… give you two privacy?”
• Jeriah broke the kiss long enough to turn his head. His eyes found mine in the dark. Amy’s lipstick was already smeared across his mouth.
• “No, you ugly fat chunky. You get to watch and enjoy the show tonight.”
• The words landed like a slap. Heat flooded my face, I don't know for sure if it was shame, anger, something else I refused to name. I opened my mouth and nothing came out.
• Amy smiled against his jaw, almost like she was pleased.
• Jeriah’s free hand moved around her body. One sharp tug and the thin straps of her nightie slid off her shoulders. The fabric whispered down her body and pooled at her feet. She stood there completely naked, her skin glowing faintly in the low light, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the dark triangle between her legs unmistakable.
• He didn’t look away from me while he did it.
• Amy stepped out of the fallen nightie and into him again. His hand returned to her throat. The other one slid down her back, lower, gripping the curve of her ass hard enough that her breath hitched.
• He kissed her again, slower this time, like he had all night and wanted me to hear every second of it.
• I stayed where he had pushed me. My back against the wall. The lace of my lingerie suddenly felt too tight, too obvious. My pulse was loud in my ears.
• Part of me wanted to leave anyway. I wanted to walk out, find another room, any room. Another part stayed rooted, watching the way his mouth moved over hers, the way her body arched into him, the quiet, wet sounds of their kissing filling the dark space.
• Amy’s hands worked at his belt. The soft clink of the buckle was loud in the silence. She got it open, pushed the fabric down just enough, and wrapped her fingers around him. Jeriah made a low sound against her mouth while his hips rolled once into her grip.
• He broke the kiss and looked at me over her shoulder.
• “Still standing there,” he said, his voice rough. “Good. Keep watching.”
• Amy turned her head just enough to glance at me, by now her lips were swollen, and her eyes half-lidded. She didn’t smile this time. She just looked, then turned back to him and sank to her knees.
• My own breathing had gone shallow. I could feel the heat between my legs despite the humiliation still burning in my chest. I hated that I noticed the way his stomach tensed, the way his fingers flexed in her hair, the low curse he let out when she took him deeper.
• He looked at me again while she worked him with her mouth.
• “You wanted privacy,” he said, his voice strained now. “This is what privacy looks like when I say no.”
• Amy made a small, muffled sound around him. He pulled her up by the hair, not roughly enough to hurt, but enough to make her follow. He turned her, bent her forward over the edge of the massive bed, and pushed into her in one smooth thrust. The sound she made was sharp and then melted into a moan. His hands gripped her hips hard. He started moving deeply, steady, the slap of skin against skin was really loud in the dark room.
• I stayed against the wall watching.
• Feeling every contradiction twist inside me; was it anger, shame, or the unwanted heat that refused to die, the knowledge that he wanted me to see exactly this.
• Jeriah’s eyes never left mine for long.
• And the night kept going.