Melody
Images of Jay spreading my legs apart, lapping at my nether as his fingers played me before spreading my lips apart replacing his finger with his tongue kept replaying in my head. The images were too vivid to be my imagination. I could hear myself drunkenly screaming out his name, slurring on my words. It started out with me begging him for more than of me screaming for him to stop as I came undone as he sucked and licked me dry.
The smile on his face as he made his way to me, only to passionately kiss me sharing the taste of my essence is what stuck with me the most.
That had to be a dream, a figment of my imagination. There was no way that could have happened. If it did, when? If it didn’t then when did I become this imaginative?
For the past two days, every time we spoke all I could focus on were his lips. The images I had woken up from my first night back home seem to be haunting me. Maybe it has something to do with being in such proximity to him. It’s the only thing I could think of that made sense.
I was all about facts, I only believed in what I could see. So, why on earth was this particular image so believable?
“Dee, we’re leaving in twenty minutes” Jay yelled outside of my bedroom door.
“Ok, I’ll be ready in a few”
I’ve been ready and have been up since six in the morning trying to relieve the throbbing tension between my legs. Not only have the images been clouding my mind but causing tensions in areas that shouldn’t even be mentioned. I’ve been waking up to puddles and aches I could never seem to relieve and gets worse in his presence.
I’m over this sh*t. I want to go back to Clearwater and pretend that he doesn’t have this effect on me.
I’m not so lucky. Ma is adamant about this family vacation, no matter how much pa and I complain or bring up excuses on why we should reschedule, she refused to budge. What’s worse, she even took our car keys just in case we had the urge to take off and skip out on her.
Talk about childish. The more I think about this trip, I more I can assume that she and Jay planned the whole thing beforehand and later pretended that it was all a surprise to her. It’s always been like that with them. What I couldn’t understand was why she would agree and advocate Jay’s whack-ass excuse for the exclusion of the fight cabins and rooms.
My brain was running circles. Things just weren’t adding up. Yeah, Jay and I have shared a room multiple times before as kids and even teens but why now?
I know he didn’t feel the same way as I did, there was no way. So, what was his end game? Could it be he just wanted to get our relationship back to how it was before I left? That was the only reasonable explanation and with that in mind, I made my way down the stairs with my luggage.
*****
The fifteen-hour flight to Fiji was excruciating. Not only did ma choose the farthest cabin on the flight, but she also closed her blinds claiming she needed all the alone time with her husband for their anniversary. I guess the anniversary preceded over my lack of comfort.
Alone in an enclosed cabin with Jay, the best I could do was read till I eventually fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later in his arms with him stroking my hair and back, I kept my eyes closed and reveled at the moment. I was back asleep in no time.
When I finally woke up, I found Jay deeply asleep with his head on my shoulder. His laptop was opened on his lap and glasses were still on. He looked like a sleeping college professor. You know the one that you instantly have a crush on and daydream about doing lectures.
There were still eight hours till we land, as much as I enjoyed how this moment felt and looked, I had to move my legs. I was sore and stiff, his head on my shoulder wasn’t quite helping matters.
Lightly moving his head and slipping out of the cabin, I walk throughout the plane. After using the restroom and brushing my teeth, I find the stewardess. She was at least ten years older than me, full-figured with olive skin, chestnut brown hair, and hazel eyes. She was gorgeous.
She had a forced smile and a standoffish aura. If I had to be in the air all the time, I’d probably be standoffish too. Not paying much mind to her attitude, I politely smiled as I approached.
“Would you like your lunch now madam?”
“Yes please, can I get a rum and coke with that?”
“Of course, it’ll be right. Would your husband like his lunch also?”
“My who? Oh no, he’s my brother and is sleeping right now.”
“Oh right. Be right back, miss.”
My husband? I wonder what gave her that impression.
I tried not to think much about what the stewardess said. It wouldn’t be the first time someone looked at Jay and me and automatically assumed we were something other than family. Can’t say I blame them. It’s not like we looked anything alike. Our skin tones were night and day, it’s easy to guess that we’re not related.
The stewardess came back with the drink rushing away to get the food. From her movements and change of attitude, I get the feeling that she’s avoiding me. She looked annoyed, barely meeting my eyes when she speaks. There’s a tightness to her face. But why? Was it because of what she said earlier?
That’d be stupid. Her question might have been annoying, but I wasn’t throwing a fit about it, so why would she?
I’m probably overthinking things. As she brought out my food, my parents approached with blinding smiles on their faces. I don’t want to even imagine the reason behind those smiles. At their age, there’s no way.
“Baby girl, you’re up.”
“And drinking. You couldn’t even wait till evening?”
“Honey, let her be. You know she gets fidgety on planes.”
“You’re always making excuses for her.”
Here they go again. Why am I the topic that always leads to them arguing?
Mom was going on a rant as I continued drinking my drink. I made sure to drink it all before eating just to spite her. She never complains when it comes to Jaylen drinking or smoking pot but always on my case.
“Are you even listening? You drink too much and you know alcoholism runs in the family. You’re second uncle, third cousin and great grandfather died from liver failure due to their drinking.”
I wish I had another drink. In five years, I believe my parents saw me drink less than five times. When they did, it was wine or champagne because I was dragged to some event. However, this alcoholic topic is one I can’t seem to hear enough of. I might have a drink once or twice a week, I wouldn’t call myself an alcoholic.
“Honey, have a sit and we can get something to eat,” Pa said as he waved the stewardess over. She seemed to be in a better mood when it came to serving my parents.
“Can I have a sweet tea?” She nodded as her jaw tightened.
“Add one for me too and whatever she had,” Jay said as she approved the table. Sitting next to me he took my fork and took a bite off my chicken which received him an elbow to the side. He smirked as if I barely touched him.
“May I get anything else for you?”
“No, that’ll be all thank you.” Ma sternly responded. She has this disdainful look on her face as she watches the stewardess walk away.
This already long flight was going to be much longer with all these personalities. Jay went over the brochure selling the villa and everything Fiji had to offer. Ma was buying everything. Dad and I shared our usual look of exasperation. Our version of vacation was staying inside, not being seen for days as we binge a book or documentary, and the occasional going to the beach. It wasn’t this island hoping crap Jay and ma were talking about.