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Monday, February 25, 2008

EXCERPT: Me, Myself & Him

Me, Myself & Him
by E. N. Joy

"How was Locksie supposed to tell her boyfriend that she had gone off to church and fallen in love with another man"

Locksie grew up in the church, but now she's all grown-up and church is the last thing on her mind; her boyfriend is the first. When Locksie finally does go back and visit church, she ends up finding more than she ever expected.

In Me, Myself & Him, the characters are torn between holding on to the person they believe is the love of their life, or having to let go for something that's missing from their life.

Chapter 2

“Umm, baby,” Locksie said as she rolled over from off top Dawson and onto her side. “That felt so good it must be a sin.” All Locksie wanted to do was bask in the arms of her lover. But she couldn’t. It was Sunday morning and she had something important to do.

Dawson rolled over behind Locksie. Intertwined, their matching brown skin made it hard to tell where hers began and his ended. Dawson pulled Locksie’s brown, with honey highlights, shoulder length hair behind her double pierced ear and then pressed his thick lips against it. In his deep, baritone voice he whispered, “Then since we’re just two sinners going to hell anyway, let’s make it worth while.” He began nibbling on Locksie’s ear.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Locksie pulled away and stepped out of the bed. “You know I have to do Eve’s hair this morning.”

“It’s Sunday, our only day off,” Dawson whined. “How you gon’ arrange to do somebody’s naps? You know how I look forward to my Sunday’s with you, Locks.” Dawson called Locksie by his pet name for her. Not only was it short for Locksie, but he had told her that she had three locks on him; one on his heart, one on his mind and one on his body.

As Locksie’s feet padded towards the master bath that adjoined their bedroom, which was so huge that the builders referred to it as “the owner’s retreat”, she turned to look at Dawson and smiled. She could tell just by looking at him how sincere he was. She loved it when he wanted her. It made her feel good to be wanted and loved, especially by a man as beautiful as Dawson. He was the spittin’ image of The Ohio State University graduate and former professional NFL star, Eddie George. And the taste that fell in Locksie’s mouth at just the mention of Dawson’s name was delicious.

They had met three years ago at the gym Locksie used to be a member of and that Dawson still worked at. Dawson started off as her personal trainer, which is his licensed profession, and then he became her friend. It took approximately four dinner dates, two movie dates and two home cooked meals for them to transition from being friends to being lovers .

“Baby, don’t whine like that,” Locksie said, playfully pouting by poking her lips out. “You know what your whining does to me.”

“Then come here and let it do what it do.” Dawson winked as he motioned with his index finger for Locksie to rejoin him in bed.

“You know I would if I could, but Eve is going to be here in a few. I’m sewing tracks in, and for all that hair she wants, we’d be at Fiesta all day long trying to get it done if I did it during my work hours. That’s why I’m doing it here at the house. That way I can bank all the money. Because you know at Fiesta I’m on salary, so I’m not about to give them the money for all that work I’m about to have to do.”

“Why doesn’t she just buy a daggone wig?” Dawson huffed as he pulled the covers up to his neck in defeat.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Locksie said as she entered the bathroom.

“When? How?” Dawson asked with excitement, now quickly sitting up at attention as he stared at Locksie’s thick silhouette. Seconds later, every part of him was at attention.

“When? Tonight. How? However you want it, baby.” Locksie licked her lips and let the door close shut in front of her, leaving a panting Dawson on the other side.

By the time she stepped into the shower and began washing the lathering suds down her body, it happened again; that feeling was revisiting her. She’d hoped that this time, after having sex, it wouldn’t, but it had. Her smile, the aftermath of her love making with Dawson, turned into a look of shame. She kept her head down and watched the water stream down the drain, realizing that the sin of fornication wouldn’t so easily do the same.

Locksie had to catch her thoughts and ask herself since when had she started referring to her and Dawson’s lovemaking as fornication? She loved making love to him. She loved the way he made her feel. She loved him; the man she had vowed to love to eternity the first night the two of them exchanged those three words. As far as Locksie was concerned, Dawson was her Mr. Right. But for the life of her, she couldn’t explain why everything was starting to feel so wrong.

Lately it seemed as though the wonderful feeling of having Dawson inside of her was becoming more and more short lived. At first, Locksie tried to blame it on her recent discussions about her and Dawson’s relationship with her aunt Mary-that maybe all that talk about God, fornication, sin and death was starting to, slowly but surely, hinder Locksie’s sex life. But she knew it was something deeper than that.

During Locksie and Dawson’s sexual encounter, Locksie could do nothing but enjoy and indulge, but now, only moments later, the pleasurable feeling of her climax was laced with guilt. What once made her feel like she was on top of a mountain was now making her feel as though she was in the lowest of valleys.

Just last week while her and Dawson were being intimate, she had closed her eyes and smiled as his lovin’ took her to that next level, but then her eyes snapped open and she stared up at the ceiling as if there was a mirror there and she was watching herself. Only it felt as though it wasn’t just her eyes that were watching her-that maybe someone else was watching her too. Feeling embarrassed at the thought that someone could actually see what was going on in her bedroom, Locksie had simply closed her eyes again and escaped back into the comfort of Dawson.

After failing to wash her sins down the drain, Locksie turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. Even though the temperature of the water had been so hot that the bathroom was filled with warm steam, all of a sudden she felt a cold chill. She hurried and grabbed her towel, not because of the tender breeze that had just ripped through the bathroom, but because she felt that same feeling she had experienced last week. So she covered up quickly, not wanting to be exposed. She knew that no one other than herself was in the bathroom, but still, that feeling as if there was someone watching her was just all too real to ignore. “Argghhh!” Locksie screamed as the bathroom door flung opened, startling the heck out of her.

“Sorry,” Dawson said, entering the bathroom, now wearing a pair of fitted boxer briefs. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t you knock?” Locksie snapped. “I mean, you knew I was in here. How you just gonna bust in like somebody wasn’t even already in the bathroom?” Locksie, slightly shivering, clenched her towel around her.

“Dang, I’m sorry,” Dawson said with a puzzled look on his face. He had never knocked before entering the bathroom when he knew she was in there. And Locksie had never once seemed to mind him invading her space so freely. Not once…up until now.

“And you should be sorry,” Locksie said, heading out of the bathroom, brushing pass Dawson, but making sure her body didn’t touch his in even the slightest way. “Next time knock.”

“What’s with this change in you?” Dawson threw his hands up and let them flop back down to his side.

Locksie sighed and allowed her tense shoulders to relax. “Nothing,” she said as she grabbed the bathroom door knob and pulled it closed behind her. “Nothing’s changed,” she mumbled a second time, in an attempt to convince herself. Locksie leaned her back up against the bathroom door with her hand still on the knob and closed her eyes. She had just lied to Dawson. When he asked her what had changed, she told him nothing. But she knew very well that something had changed; she just couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was.


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