The Journey Ch 06 3

Welcome, Friend, to Chapter Six of The Journey.

Special thanks to my beta readers, ArmyGal33, AvidReader223, Bramblethorn and GinnyPPC, and as always, my editor AwkwardMD.

~~ Washington, DC, September ~~

"M-m-m-m-morning." Jane purred contentedly, like a kitten with a belly full of milk. She stretched, then nestled back against me. I rubbed my cheek against the short hair on the back of her neck. As usual, I was the big spoon.

"Morning, pretty girl. Sleep okay?"

"How could I not? After what you did to me last night?"

I kissed her ear and felt a rush of happiness. "That's on you. Curled up on the couch, wearing your cute new glasses that make you look like a sexy librarian when I got here."

It was still hard for me to wrap my head around our thing. Since my run-in with Addison, we'd gone from me spending every Saturday night, to spending every Friday and Saturday night together at her house. She'd been staying up until one in the morning waiting for me to come over after my Friday driving shift. Then I'd been staying with her until I headed to

Abuela's

to help with wrapping tamales on Sunday mornings. She'd even come to watch me bowl a few times on Sunday night then spent the night at my apartment.

She made a sound of displeasure. "I hate having to wear glasses to read."

"You stare at a computer screen ten hours a day, what do you expect? I'm sorry you have to wear them, but they're sexy as hell." Like much of Jane's fashion sense, her new glasses were stylishly retro. Black frames, pointed up at the corners like cat's eyes.

I ran my hand down her side to caress one of her magnificent ass cheeks.

"What do you want to do this morning before we settle down to homework? Farmer's market? Skating?" she asked me.

"Skating to the farmer's market?"

"See, this is why we're perfect together."

I felt the usual stab of doubt in my gut whenever she said things like that, but I'd been getting better at squashing it lately.

"Maybe that smoothie guy will be back. I could go for a mango-peach for breakfast," I said, as I ran my fingertips over the cleft of her ass. "I could go for a slice of Jane too."

She shivered, and said, "You say the nicest things!"

I threw the covers off of us, then slid my hand under her leg, lifting her knee towards the ceiling and resting her foot on my leg. I let my hand slide over the inside of her thigh to stroke the soft skin there. She purred when my hand cupped her sex. I kissed the skin on the back of her neck as I used my index and ring finger to part her lips while my middle finger gently stroked her clit. She wasn't wet, but I knew from experience how fast that would change.

"Baby, you'll never get me out of bed doing that," she whispered.

"Who says I want to get you out of bed?" I dipped my finger inside her. Wetness. I stroked in and out a few times to liberally coat my finger with her juices, then returned my attention to her clit.

"O-o-o-h, that feels nice," she murmured. I kept a steady rhythm, alert for her tell-tale signs. As soon as she started rocking her hips against my hand and holding her breath, I stopped, heading off her incipient orgasm.

"You tease," she whined.

I'd learned early on that Jane's sexual tastes were pretty far from my usual moves. She wasn't much into being dominated, and didn't really like my strap-on. She'd let me fuck her with it once but I knew it wasn't her favorite, so I'd never suggested using it again. I'd grown used to her more romantic style, but I still wanted to be the take charge bitch sometimes. Lately, I'd come to appreciate how I could take charge of her with teasing, almost as much as I used to enjoy throwing someone around or fucking up against the wall.

I slipped my arm out from under her and pulled her over on her back. Scooting down, I lifted her right leg over my shoulder. I nuzzled her clit with my nose, making her giggle. I couldn't get enough of her scent. I brought my hand up and used my fingers to spread her lips wide and lowered my head.

"

God

, you're good at that," she said as I flattened my tongue and pressed it against her clit.

I smiled, but didn't stop, nodding my head in the rhythm I knew worked for her. She started rubbing her foot on my back. I loved it when she did that. I could feel her getting close again, so I slowed my pace. She sighed, with pleasure, not frustration. She knew I'd get her there. When I was ready.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. I looked up to see her turn her head. She started to reach out for it then stopped herself.

I paused my ministrations. "It's okay, go ahead. I know you're expecting a call from your publisher."

She grabbed her phone and checked the screen. "Yeah, it's Shirley. Hang on a second." She hit the button to take the call. "Hey Shirl, happy Saturday. No, haven't even left the house yet... Yeah, it's a lazy weekend, shopping and reviewing student's outlines. Uh huh... uh huh... I--

ah!"

Jane cried out in surprise as I slid my finger inside her. She half-heartedly glared at me. "Sorry... I... dropped something. What did you say?"

I grinned, as I added a second finger then curled my fingertips. Her mouth made a perfect O, then she violently shook her head at me, mouthing

Stop!

I put on my best innocent face, mouthing

Stop what?

Then I bent my head and started licking her again, never taking my eyes off her face.

"Um... yeah. Okay, so... right. Yeah. No, the cover art looks... um, it great. I mean, it's great, I'm super happy with it." She put her hand over the phone and whispered "

Stop it! You have to--ohmygod--stop!

" She uncovered the phone, trying to pay attention. "What? No, sorry, my cat is attacking my foot."

I giggled. "

Your cat?"

I whispered. My hand never stopped moving.

"

Stop it!"

She hissed, then turned back to the phone. "So, what's the big news? Uh huh... um..."

I started licking again. Her eyes rolled up on her head and she bit her lip, her free hand grabbing my short hair painfully. Which I didn't mind in the least.

"

What?!"

Jane yelled. She pushed me off her and sat up. "Are you serious?!" I stopped, looking up at her with concern, but her face was lit up in delight. "That's

awesome,

Shirl! Yes! For real, I was hoping for it, but I never thought...

Yes,

I want her to get an invitation! I doubt she'll come but... no, that's great!" She saw my questioning look and gave me a big thumbs-up. I laid back down on her leg, but didn't continue my mischievous activities.

Her conversation continued for a few more minutes, diverging into the minutiae that came with releasing an academic book. I contented myself with tracing shapes on her leg with my finger while I listened to her end of the call.

"Okay Shirl... Okay... Thank you

so

much! Yes. Okay, I'll see you next weekend." She hung up.

"What's the big news?" I asked.

"Nikole Hannah-Jones is going to blurb my book!"

"Who is that? What does 'blurb your book' mean?"

"It's the most amazing news, which I'll tell you about later!" she said, grabbing my hair again and tugging my face back between her legs. "Finish what you started first!"

"Yes ma'am!" I said, and happily bent to my work. I was rewarded with a long, happy moan.

"Watch it!

" I yelled at a guy on a bicycle an hour later. He'd flown through a red light and almost clipped me as Jane and I skated through a crosswalk. "Asshole!"

"That was a nice move, dodging him like that. You're getting better. You won't need your kneepads soon," Jane said.

After I'd fallen and given myself a

second

set of street pizzas on my knee, Jane had bought me a pair of heavy plastic knee pads, I think as a joke. But I was enjoying my new hobby of skating enough, and was also clearly not as good as Jane, that I wore them every time we went out. The scuffs on the black plastic was testament to their worth.

"I don't know, I kinda like them. Besides, they could be more useful than just skating, you know."

"How so?" she asked me quizzically. She let go of my hand briefly as we let a lamp post pass between us, then reached for it again.

"Well, I mean aside from skating, these would come in handy if I wanted to go down on you while you were sitting on your kitchen island again. Your hardwood floors aren't great on the knees, you know."

Jane giggled and blushed at the same time, looking around to see if anyone had heard me. "You're terrible."

"So, what's the big deal about getting a 'blurb' on your book? What is that?"

"Oh, right. My publisher sends advanced reader copies of my book to people before it goes to print. Other professors in my field, journalists, book reviewers, it's all part of the publicity efforts. I can ask my publisher to ask if any of them liked it enough to write like a one or two sentence 'blurb' which gets put on the cover as a teaser, to encourage people to buy it."

"Ah. Makes sense."

"Right. So, I'd asked Shirley if she'd ask Professor Hannah-Jones at Howard about a blurb. I'd put her on the list of people I wanted an ARC sent to--"

"ARC?"

"That's the short-hand for the advanced reader copies."

"Gotcha."

"Anyway, people like her get tons of unsolicited stuff. I had no expectation she'd even read it, much less get back to Shirley about putting a blurb on my cover. This is

huge!

Not only could it really help my sales, but I'm such a fan of hers. I can't believe she

read

it! She read

my

book!"

"That's cool, babe. Who is she?"

"Are you kidding me?" Jane said as we rolled up to the farmer's market.

"No, I don't think I know her. Oh sweet, the smoothie guy is here," I said pointing.

"Wow. Okay, well... I guess that's on me. No reason you should know I suppose. She's the journalist who spearheaded the 1619 Project."

"

That

I've heard of. I read some of that researching my paper for your class. Talking about the history of slavery of the U.S.?"

"It was so much more than that, but yes."

"What flavor do you want?" I asked, dragging my toe-brake to slow me to a stop as we rolled up to the smoothie stand.

"Kiwi-strawberry."

I ordered for both of us, then we stood to the side, watching the vendor make our breakfast.

"So, anyway... yeah, she read my book and liked it enough she's going to give Shirley a blurb for the cover," Jane said, raising her voice over the sound of blenders, "And I asked Shirl if she'd make sure she got an invite to the book party."

"Think she'll come? Where does she live?"

"Here in DC, I think. She's the Knight Chair in Race and Reporting at the journalism school at Howard."

"Oh. Why didn't you just walk over to her office and ask her to blurb you then?"

Jane laughed. "Blurb me. That sounds like something that might end up making you jealous."

"No blurbing with other women," I agreed, earning me another laugh. I didn't think I would ever tire of making her laugh.

"I've never even met her. I was at a faculty social thing with her one time but I couldn't get near her for an introduction. She's a little bit of a rock star here. Besides, you don't personally ask someone to read and pimp your book, you have your publisher do it. That way if they don't feel comfortable because they don't agree with your book or don't think it's any good, they can turn you down without the awkwardness and hurt feelings of doing it to your face. Not good form to personally press her for that when she doesn't even know who I am. Especially since I'm a brand new, little fish professor here and she's a chair."

"Little fish, big brain. She'd be dumb not to come and meet you."

"You say the nicest things," she said for the second time that morning. "I hope she does come. My mom would flip out if I got to introduce them."

I felt my stomach tighten. "Ugh, don't remind me that I have to meet your parents."

"Have to?" she said, a wry smile on her face.

"I mean get to.

Get to!

So excited, it's gonna be great!"

She laughed. "Why are you so nervous about it?"

Because I'm going to be meeting your parents, who are both doctors, and whose PhD, Howard-professor-daughter is dating someone who's just starting her second year of community college while she drives trains for a living. And also I've never met the parents of any woman I've ever dated in my life.

"I don't have anything nice to wear. I mean... I think my nicest outfit is the one I wore when I took you to

La Zona De Baile."

"Hmm, you were hot in that, but it's not really book release party wear."

"This is what I'm saying." I said as the smoothie guy put our orders on the counter. We collected them then started skating around, eying the produce and other treats available for purchase. I was carrying our canvas shopping bags over my shoulder.

"What's your homework load like today? Could we go shopping this afternoon?" Jane asked.

"E-e-e-h, I dunno." I wasn't much for shopping.

She stopped me, turning me to face her.

"Listen, I know you just sent five hundred bucks to your mom to help the restaurant after their freezer died. Would it... would it be okay if I helped you buy something to wear? I'd really like to do that for you."

Embarrassment washed over me. "I dunno..." I said again.

"Let me put it this way; I want to dress

my

girlfriend up for

my

big party. So I'll help you get something nice to wear. But I get some serious input on what we buy."

That made me grin. "You want to dress me up?"

"Consider it a fantasy role play. I get to dress you up how I want you to look for my big night. Then next time we go out somewhere fancy, you can pick out what I wear. Anything in my closet."

I squinted at her and pursed my lips thoughtfully. "M-m-m-m, that could be a deal I could get behind."

"I would hope so. It's a win-win for both of us."

"We'll see. Oh, your tomato guy is here. We should get some, this might be the last week for them."

I'm going to regret this,

I thought, as I watched her pick through the produce from our favorite farm stand. I tried to imagine myself in one of her retro style dresses,

I don't wear fucking dresses. I haven't worn a dress since... geez, since my confirmation.

Still... I knew I'd wear whatever would make her happy.

~~ Georgetown, Washington, DC ~~

Scattered applause greeted us as we entered the room her publisher had reserved. I peeled Jane's hand off my arm, motioning her to walk in ahead of me. This was her night, no one here was clapping for me.

She looked magnificent, wearing another of her retro cut dresses. This one was multicolored, with large stripes of bright yellows, greens, reds and blacks and, of course, a matching head wrap. I'd made the mistake of calling it an "African color pattern" when we were getting ready, and she'd cheerfully corrected me.

"That's like saying something is 'European' colored. There are over fifty countries on the continent, and countless different cultures. This is a pattern from Kenya. I don't know if my mom's family is from Kenya or not, but I've always liked this color combination."

As the applause for Jane died down, a short black woman rushed up to her.

"Here's the lady of the hour!" she exclaimed, giving Jane a hug.

"Thank you!" Jane said, happily, before turning to introduce me. "Shirley, this is my girlfriend Viv Esparza. Viv, Shirley Chisolm, my publisher."

"Great to meet you!" Shirley said, furiously shaking my hand, a walking bundle of enthusiasm. "Jane, we have a lectern set up over there for your reading. A copy of your book is waiting there for you," she said, gesturing to the far side of the room where there was a small stand to hold a book or notes.

"My parents called me right before we got here. There was a pile-up on ninety-five, south of the mixing-bowl, and they're about thirty minutes out. Do I have to read right now?"

"Of course not! I thought you'd want to mingle for a bit first anyway. Have a drink, it's an open bar."

"Best kind," I chimed in.

"Buy me a drink then, darling?" Jane said with a smile. I held out my arm, she took it and I escorted her across the room towards the bar. We were stopped at least half a dozen times as we were greeted by some of Jane's friends and coworkers. In every case, Jane introduced me as her girlfriend, and I politely nodded, then stayed out of the conversations. Everyone was focused on Jane, congratulating her on her book release. Most of them were professors. All of them intimidated the hell out of me. I think I would have been tempted to flee except for my secret weapon.

I'd needlessly worried about Jane trying to put me in a dress. We'd gone shopping in Tyson's Corner Mall, literally the first time I'd ever set foot in the place, and Jane had known exactly what she'd wanted me to wear.

The charcoal black men's suit fit me perfectly. The salesman had rushed the alterations and we'd been able to pick it up this morning. I had to admit I looked pretty good. The dark purple dress shirt and shiny black patent-leather shoes Jane had picked out for me complemented the suit, and the alterations had the jacket hugging my body, flattering my shoulders.

Without my new suit I think I would have felt hopelessly out of my league among all of Jane's peers and friends, dressed in their professional clothes. As it was I only felt awkward to the point of

almost

wanting to sneak out. Anytime I glanced behind us and caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bar, though, I actually thought I looked cool as hell. Jane was clearly appreciative. She kept reaching out to touch my arm whenever she looked at me.

When we reached the bar, a spontaneous, somewhat haphazard receiving line formed, and we camped out as people kept coming up to Jane to say hello and congratulate her. I was able to down my margarita and surreptitiously order a second while Jane's wine sat untouched. The bar was fancy-schmancy, so the margaritas came in small rocks glasses, but they were made with real lime juice instead of sweet and sour mix, and were strong as hell, for which I was thankful.

I was trying to catch the bartender's eye to order a third when I heard Jane let out a little squeal behind me. I turned to find her throwing her arms around an older black woman's neck.

"Heyyyy! I'm so happy you guys could come, mom!" Jane exclaimed.

"You know we wouldn't have missed it, baby," the woman said.

A tall, white man stepped up from behind and laid his hands on Jane's shoulders.

"Janey, we're so proud! Your first book!" he said.

Showtime

. I felt myself clench up. I stood up straighter, glancing down to make sure my jacket wasn't tucked into my pants or anything.

After a few moments of Jane and her parents exchanging pleasantries, none of which penetrated the blank fog my mind had thrown up, Jane turned to me, her arm still linked in her mom's. I could see clearly where Jane got her distinctive looks. Her natural curly hair was almost identical to her mom's if leaning a few shades more towards the sandy blonde of her dad. Her mom wore the same type of headwrap as her daughter and although I could see Jane had the same cheekbones and heart shaped face as her mom, her almost hazel eyes clearly came from her dad.

"Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Viv Esparza. Viv, my parents, Mark and Ayanna May."

"Ah, yeah, hi," I stammered.

"It's nice to meet you, Viv," her mom said, as we shook hands. Her demeanor was a little cool towards me I thought.

"You too,"

"We've heard so much about you, it's really nice to put a face to the stories," said her dad.

"Thanks. Jane's pretty high on you guys too." That earned me a laugh from her dad, and a side-eye from her mom.