Page 3 of Loving a Libra (BLP Signs of Love #7)

Tariq released me, and as soon as my feet hit the floor, I turned to leave.

“Devyn, wait. I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m vulnerable right now, and I don’t trust myself around you.”

“I won’t touch you again. We should talk about what just happened.”

My hand fell from the doorknob, but I was hesitant to turn around. After just telling me he wouldn’t touch me again, he gently placed his hands around my waist.

“Tariq, please.”

“Let’s sit.”

I allowed him to keep his hand on my waist and guide me to the couch. We returned to our usual spots and faced each other.

“What was that?” I questioned, not wasting a moment.

“Over the past two years, we’ve spent more time together than we probably should have. It started off innocent, but at some point, I began to look forward to our time together. It’s taken everything in my power to check my feelings and stop myself from crossing the line, but . . .”

“But what?”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m in love with you, Devyn.”

“You can’t be in love with me. What about Maurice? He’s my man.”

“I’m willing to bet there are quite a few women claiming him right now.”

“Fuck you, Tariq!”

I stood to leave, but he stepped in front of me and wrapped me in his arms. For the first time since I found out my five-year relationship was a joke, I began to cry. Tariq held me tighter when he felt my body tense.

“Damn, baby. I’m sorry about this shit. I know you’re pissed because I didn’t tell you sooner, but I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you. I thought you’d eventually catch him and break up with him.”

Tariq thought these tears were tears of sadness, but I was pissed. I shouldn’t take my anger out on him, but Maurice wasn’t here, so unfortunately, Tariq would feel some of my wrath.

I pushed him away and poked him in his chest as I ranted. “And when I didn’t, you didn’t have enough decency to tell me what was up. You let me live in this fucked up fantasy for five years, and now you want me to believe you’re in love with me? Nope! Fuck you and your friend.”

This time, when I headed toward the door, he didn’t follow me. Once inside what I once felt was my safe space, I leaned against the wall and looked around with a million thoughts running through my mind.

How many women are there? Did he bring them here? Do I know any of them? Thank God, I made him wrap his shit up!

The longer I thought about Maurice’s betrayal, the angrier I became. I thought about what I could do to hurt him as much as he hurt me, and the only thing that came to mind was to fuck Tariq.

I can’t do that. Can I?

I thought back to the time Tariq and I spent together.

Aside from my best friend Ginae, he was the only other person I confided in when things got rough with Maurice.

I used to confide in Ginae, but my bestie held grudges.

Weeks would pass, and she’d still be mad at Maurice because of something I told her that I’d moved on from.

I’d been calling Tariq about my problems with Maurice since before we moved across the hall.

I’d never admit it to anyone, but when Maurice bought this condo, I was excited to have Tariq so close.

Although I thought my relationship was solid, I’d just come to the realization that part of the reason Maurice and I worked was because Tariq filled the voids that Maurice left behind.

I’d been using Tariq and didn’t connect the dots until this very moment.

Tariq and I cooked and ate dinner together, had movie and game nights, communicated often throughout the day, all day, and talked about nearly everything. All the things I should’ve been doing with my man, I did with Tariq. Losing him would hurt more than losing Maurice.

How am I just now seeing this?

My phone vibrated in the pocket of my hoodie, pulling me from my thoughts. I took it out and looked at the screen, groaning when I saw it was a text from Maurice.

Maurice:

Don’t wait up. Riq stopped by ERL after his date. After we close, we got some business to discuss. I’ll sleep in the guest room if I’m out too late. Love you.

I shoved my phone into the pocket of my hoodie and pushed myself off the door. Before I could change my mind, I stepped across the hall and knocked on Tariq’s door. He opened it quickly, as if he were waiting for me to knock.

No words were exchanged before he pulled me inside and let the door slam behind us. This time, when he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, he carried me to the couch.

Tariq’s couch was huge and took up a large portion of his living room because of its half-circle shape.

When my back hit the surface, he stood to his full height and began to undress.

I followed his lead, sitting up to pull my hoodie over my head.

When I reached for the waistband of my sweats, Tariq stopped me.

I looked into his eyes as he asked, “Why’d you come back?”

“Because this is where I want to be.”

That answer must have been good enough because he pulled my sweats down my thighs and over my feet before tossing them on the floor. I was naked underneath my clothes, so my body was fully exposed. Tariq looked me up and down while licking his lips.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about putting your legs on my shoulders and burying my face in your pussy.”

Tariq had always been a gentleman, and hearing him talk that way was surprising and made my pussy wet.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Once I get a taste of you, it’s a wrap for you and that nigga. I’ll give you some time to figure shit out, but when my tongue hits your clit, you’re mine. Do you understand?”

Shit! This was a side of Tariq I’d never seen, and I’d be damned if I didn’t love it. I kept my eyes on his as I nodded in response to his question.

“Nah, fuck that. I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Good girl.”

I wasn’t prepared for the pleasure Tariq provided with his tongue.

From the moment it swiped across my lips, my body was in a frenzy.

It was like every fantasy he’d had about eating my pussy, he brought to life on that couch.

I screamed, begged, and pleaded with him, but every sound I made fell upon deaf ears.

No man’s tongue had ever made me climax three times, back-to-back-to-back. My juices shot from my pussy, making a mess on the couch and spraying his face like a fire hydrant. The experience was life-changing and left me limp and speechless.

He kissed his way up my body until he reached my mouth, slipping his tongue inside and forcing me to devour my essence. I moaned and inhaled, getting horny all over again from my scent.

I wasn’t sure how he did it, but I felt myself being lifted from the couch while our tongues continued to slow dance. It felt as if I was floating as he carried me across the room. I opened my eyes to darkness when my back hit another surface, assuming we were in his bedroom.

The bed dipped, and Tariq maneuvered between my legs. The moment the head of his dick pierced my entrance, I knew he wasn’t wearing a condom, and nothing in me wanted to stop him.

“Oh my God!”

Based on the print his dick made in most of his pants, I knew Tariq was packing. His length and girth were more than Maurice’s, and I bit my bottom lip as he stretched me wide, and the tip of his dick penetrated my guts.

“You feel better than I thought possible. Tight, . . . wet, . . . deep, . . . mine !”

He growled the last word as he slowed his strokes. Whatever his dick was searching for in my womb, I was sure it would be found. Although my mind thought he couldn’t go any deeper, I opened my legs as wide as I could because my pussy had a mind of her own.

“That’s right! Gimme all that pussy. Drown my shit, baby. Let me get lost in it.”

This had to be the single most irresponsible act I’d ever committed in my thirty-five years of life, but regret was nowhere to be found.