Page 15 of The Killer Cupcake
A silence fell between them.
"Mama said DeeDee got married recently,” she chirped.
His brows furrowed, not understanding.
"To an Irish boy." She watched comprehension dawn on his face.
"Oh."
"I lied. I know what you said was the truth, Melo. Mama Stewart was right—that judge José loves, he really did marry us. We could take that paper to the courts, make it legitimate. But it’s not legitimate unless we do that. Do you understand? We aren’t married, unless we take that step.”
"Kathy—"
"DeeDee didn't marry no gangster. And the law in New York don't care about gangsters and Black girls being married." Her voice cracked with heartbreak. "But our families do. They always have. That is why we are here. Hiding, pretending. Because we can’t face them, they hate each other.”
"They always will," he said quietly.
"Even Mama. She told me she's glad I didn't do what DeeDee did." Tears spilled over Kathy’s cheeks. "We're liars, me and Debbie. Lying to everyone. Forever."
"Not forever." He cupped her face, thumbs brushing away tears. "I swear it."
"Time hurts, Carmelo. The longer we're apart, I think maybe this is all we'll ever be. Stolen moments. Secret phone calls. Letters we have to hide." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Thatscares me. My life is empty in Butts. You’re seeing the world. I see nothing but trees.”
"Scares me too. I want to give you the world, Kathy. I do! I will show you the world. I will.”
"What if you find someone else?" she asked.
"Never." The word came out fierce, certain. He captured her wrists, made her meet his eyes. "You're written on my soul, Kathy. Eight months, eight years—it makes no difference. My plan is working. It keeps shifting, but it's working."
He was close enough to see unshed tears making her eyes luminous, and the tremor in her lips portrayed her desperate need. If she knew the truth, her guarded love might shrivel and die.
His greatest sin was the burden he couldn't share—his mother's suicide note, her final plea. As a Catholic, she'd sacrificed her soul, knowing she'd be barred from heaven. Honoring her request meant betraying every vow he'd made to Kathy.
He wanted to drop to his knees, confess why he hadn't fled to Mississippi, climbed through her window, and stolen her away to the life they'd dreamed of. Maybe she'd forgive him if he explained it right.
But he was a coward. Better to trap her in this limbo than risk losing her entirely.
He pressed her hand against his racing heart. "Feel that? That's what you do to me. Always have."
Then his gaze fell to her hand, where a ring sparkled brightly. How had he missed it before? He lifted her hand to his lips, planting a tender kiss on the ring. The last barrier between them seemed to dissolve like morning mist. Whatever happened beyond these walls—the danger from their families, the complexities of Janey's world, the uncertainty of theirfuture—none of it mattered in this sacred space they'd created together.
"Carmelo," she breathed. “Tomorrow morning, there is no hurry. And the next day, and the next. Every night you’re mine.”
Then words became unnecessary.
"Don't undress me," he said roughly, pulling his half-open shirt over his head. "Undress for me." His hands moved to his belt as she stepped back, and suddenly the shy veneer lifted from her features like a curtain being drawn away.
She held his gaze with newfound boldness as she reached behind her neck, her fingers working the delicate buttons at the back of her dress with deliberate slowness. The white satin whispered down her body and pooled at her feet like spilled moonlight. Next came the slip she wore beneath, the fabric sliding over her curves like a caress.
When she reached for the clasp of her bra, he was already bare below the waist. Eight months of separation and longing were written in every uncharted inch of his erection.
He saw that she noticed.
Carmelo’s breath caught when his eyes lowered. Her body was unveiled as the last barrier of modesty fell away. His appreciation for her lovely breasts and shapely thighs caused his erection to throb with heat. He’d seen her body before but had been too anxious and too virginal to know what possessing someone so beautiful could mean. He understood that now.
She took a moment to breathe. It was all the permission he needed. He pulled her against him. His mouth slammed down on hers. His kiss was urgent, desperate. Months of longing poured into that single kiss. His manhood felt painful to resist because his loins remembered her touch, the sweet heat of her wet and tight vagina with aching clarity. Every fiber of his being demanded the pleasure and relief that only being inside of her could bring.
Like every other time, her kisses were a slow burn until it was a wildfire. Guiding her backward toward the four-poster bed, he cupped her rounded buttocks, her ass fully seated in his hands, while he lifted her effortlessly.
