Authors: Electa Rome Parks

The Ties That Bind (6 page)

BOOK: The Ties That Bind

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Brice is trying his best to make me into this little homemaker. On the days when he is in town, he expects dinner on the table when he walks through the door. He said that that was the way his mother always did it when he was growing up. I told him that I wasn’t his mother, and he just looked at me. I even have to take cooking lessons from this older lady in town, Mrs. Jackson. She is always shaking her head when we cook, like I am a lost, hopeless cause.

As I said earlier, Brice is very bullheaded, domineering and possessive . . . so a lot of times I find myself biting my tongue just to keep the peace because I love him so much. He means well and this is a learning process for both of us. God, is it a learning process! I know that he gets stressed out at work, but he doesn’t have to take it out on me. He has to learn to control his temper. Just the other day, I was ready for class, about to walk out the door, when he made me go back and change my outfit. I had on a black miniskirt, black sandals and a purple midriff shirt that showed just a hint of my stomach. It was in style, everyone wore minis, everyone at State University anyway. So what was the big deal?

I had been hurriedly shoving books into my backpack when Brice approached me. “Where the hell do you think you are going dressed like that?” he asked as he roughly grabbed my arm.

“Brice, let go of me. I’m going to be late for class.”

“If you don’t change out of that shit, you aren’t going to class.”

He still hadn’t released my arm and was looking at me in a mask of anger.

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I asked. I had already started wearing bras at his insistence, even though when he met me I didn’t wear them.

“Mia, I don’t want my wife showing off her ass to anyone but me. Now, get in there and change,” he said as he pushed me towards the bedroom.

I decided I was sick of his shit and I wasn’t going to move. That was a big mistake.

“Mia, get your goddamn ass into that bedroom before I rip that shit off of you myself. You are not going out of here looking like a whore.” The entire time that he was saying this, he was in my face, shoving me down the hallway.

“Brice, leave me alone, dammit! You’re hurting me!”

He threw me down on the bed and said,“This is your last chance, Mia. You take it off or I’ll do it for you, and you don’t want me to take it off.”

I was lying there curled up in a ball, crying now. I slowly got up and started taking off my outfit as snot began running out my nose, and he stood, yes, stood there, watching me the entire time as I changed into jeans and a button-down shirt.

Once I was redressed he walked over to me and said, “Stop crying, Mia. You make me so angry sometimes. I don’t like you showing off your stuff like that. This belongs to me.” He groped and cupped my breasts through my shirt.

I pulled back and slapped his hands away.

“Oh, you know you like it, Mia,” he said, laughing.

“Come here. Come here and give me some before I leave for work.”

I stood there, determined to stare him down. The shit definitely wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t at his beck and call, ready to open wide whenever he said so.

“I said come here, Mia.”

We stared each other down for a few seconds, and then I walked the short distance to him and he unbuttoned my shirt, unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my ankles. The entire time I was protesting, saying, “Brice, don’t. I don’t want to.”

When I saw that it was useless to protest, I stood there looking at the faded green wallpaper pattern on our wall as he started vigorously sucking my breasts and inserting his fingers into me. Over and over and over. I didn’t want to enjoy it or give him the satisfaction of seeing me enjoy it, but before I knew it, I was moaning and my head was thrown back in ecstasy, while he opened my legs even wider with his hands and went to work.

Brice asked, “Do you want this, baby?” in this husky, sexy voice. I shook my head no . . . noooo . . . then yes, yes, yes. “Tell me that you want it. Let me hear you say it. Tell me to fuck you. Tell me how you can’t get enough of this.” He placed my hand on his dick. “Oooh, baby, you feel so good . . .” I came before he even stuck it in.

Don’t get me wrong, now. This was not normal behavior for Brice. Most of the time we were your average, happily married couple. When he was home, we went to the movies, shopping, to jazz clubs, you know, the usual. We spent quiet time at home wrapped in each other’s arms, making love. I must admit that Brice was the best lover that I ever had. I hadn’t had many, but still this man knew just what to do, how to do it and how long to do it. When I first saw his penis, I was scared out of my mind, thinking, “There is no way he can get all of that in me.” But we fit perfectly, and he knows how to use it.

Brice is always teasing me, telling me I’m dick whipped. Maybe I am. I love to make love to him. He’s always so gentle and sweet during those times. Well, most of the time. If he is upset with me, he’ll use sex against me; either he won’t give me any or he’ll give me everything he has. My husband is hung, so all of that pounding and grinding can hurt, hurt bad enough to make me cry if he wants it to, and he can’t stand to see me cry.

Christian has been there a lot for me when Brice isn’t around. It surprises me that they are such close friends. They seem to know each other inside and out. They are devoted to each other. There is definitely a strong bond there. It still surprises me that Brice encourages Christian to spend so much time with me even though he is so jealous.

When I first met Christian at the cookout, I thought immediately that I knew why they had reputations as lady-killers. My husband is fine. He puts the capital “F” in fine, and he knows it. Christian, on the other hand, I believe, doesn’t know how gorgeous he is. I may be married, but I still have eyes. Christian and Brice are about the same complexion . . . like a tanned pecan, but Christian has these sexy green eyes and a butt that says, “Touch me.” He’s tall, but not as tall as Brice. Christian is probably about six feet, muscular, and he has this walk that won’t quit. He’s also more laid-back than Brice.

I have never seen him with a girlfriend. I remember I asked Brice if Christian were gay, and he almost fell out of his chair he was laughing so hard. He said not to let Christian fool me. He said if I weren’t his wife, Christian would be trying to get in my pants most definitely.

Anyhow, I don’t know, when he’s around me he is the perfect gentleman. He has never said or done anything too forward. In fact, I find him to be very sincere. I find myself talking to him more and more like a girlfriend, since that is something I don’t have here. And you know what, he listens. He is always telling me that I have to learn to deal with Brice’s temper; he has had it for as long as he can remember. Christian said that Brice takes after his father, but he is always saying that if anyone can tame him it is me. Just give it some time.

Brice

F
riday night, me and my boy Christian decided to go to this hangout in town that we used to frequent a lot. It looks like a hole in the wall from the outside, but they serve some of the best chicken wings and cold beer. It also has a mixed crowd; military hasn’t taken it over yet. So there are usually quite a few nonmilitary types there. We have definitely picked up our share of booty there.

I hadn’t been there since I hooked up with Mia. In fact, I hadn’t been spending as much time with Christian as I used to. We had a lot of catching up to do. Mia probably saw more of him than I did. I was cool with Mia and Christian getting close. In fact, I encouraged it. I didn’t want her getting too close to some of these females in town or on base for that matter. I trusted Christian and knew he wouldn’t try to fuck my wife.

We had been there for about an hour just drinking and talking. It was like old times again. I even saw a few of my old “screwing partners.” As soon as they saw the wedding band, they got the picture and moved on. I was proud of the fact that in the year’s time I had been with Mia I hadn’t had the urge or desire to cheat. I loved her too much.

I couldn’t seem to get that into Brenda’s head. She was this woman I used to kick it with. She had come over, interrupted our conversation and was trying to get me to go home with her.

I told her, “Baby, those days are over. I have a wife now.”

“I have a husband. I don’t care, Brice. You know he works the night shift. I haven’t seen you in so long. And I have been asking about you, baby. I miss you.”

Brenda was a little buzzed, to say the least. She sat her ass down in my lap and started to grind.

“Baby, don’t you want some of this again.You know I know how you like it,” she said as she grabbed my crotch.

I grabbed her by the wrist and told her if she didn’t get out of my face . . . well, she had best get out of my face. She walked off, cursing.

Christian said, “Man, I told you that these women are shell-shocked over the loss of you.” We both laughed at that.

“Well, you’ll have to make up the difference for me.”

Christian got quiet and somber for a minute. “So how is it, man? I mean, you have been balled and chained for over a year now. Do you miss the old life?”

“No.”

“No, not at all?”

“Man, Mia is more than enough woman for me. Sexually, she’s a little fireball.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I like Mia. I think she’s good for you, and I definitely could get used to coming home and sleeping with that. Marriage isn’t my style—but that is.” I turned around in my seat to see who had caught Christian’s attention as he got up and walked to the table in the corner of the bar.

I sat there and guzzled some more beer and thought about Mia. She had wanted to come with us, just to get out of the apartment, but I told her it was Men’s Night Out. She pouted a little, but when I left she was watching some movie she had rented. I had to do better by her.

Meanwhile, some Prince slow jam was playing on the jukebox. Christian had gotten the lady in red to dance with him. She was wearing this hoochie outfit showing everything she had; it left nothing to the imagination. Her breasts were almost busting out, and the dress, if you wanted to call it that, barely covered her ass.

Christian glanced over at me and grinned. He liked some wild ass women. She had her arms wrapped around him like she owned the boy. When I looked up again she had her tongue stuck halfway down his throat. I swear those breasts were all up in his face like she was offering them to him on a platter, and he was palming her ass as they did their version of dirty dancing.

Christian made it back to our table, and I asked him if his “dance” was over. He smiled and said he was meeting her, Tasha, at her apartment later on. He advised me,“Man, you know I got to get some of that.” I know that sounds raw, but that was how Christian and me were both kicking it over a year ago.

We talked some more, drank some more, and I was out of it when I decided that I had better go home. When I finally got the key to fit in the lock and opened the door . . . Mia was nowhere to be seen. I found a note that she left near the phone. It read:
Gone out with a girlfriend from class.Will be back soon. I love you, Mia.

Any buzz I had immediately disappeared. I was fucking mad as hell. I was seeing red. I tore the note up into tiny shreds and sat down to wait. Yeah, I was going to wait for her ass.

Mia

L
ast night I was so pissed at Brice. He decided that he was going out with Christian to a so-called Men’s Night Out. It was just going to be the two of them. I could have gone. But no . . . he wanted me to stay home like the good little wife that I am. I feel so old. I don’t do anything anymore. I was ecstatic when Susan, a girl from class, called and invited me out with a few other people from class. We had finished finals and wanted to celebrate our few weeks of freedom. I jumped at the chance to get out. I dressed in jeans and a sweater and left a note that Brice was sure to see as soon as he walked through the door. I was going out with a girl, not a man, so everything should have been cool. Right? Wrong.

Brice hit me. He actually hit me. As soon as I walked through the door after having a great time, I spotted Brice sitting on the sofa with the TV on but the volume muted. He was staring into space, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. It appeared that he had been sitting there for a while because he had his shirt open and the belt to his pants was unbuckled.

Right away I didn’t like this. Brice had never hit me before, but in the back of my mind, I knew he was capable of it. I knew there was going to be some serious drama.

I hadn’t even gotten through the door good when . . .

“Where the hell have you been?”

Brice started to stand up, and I could see that he was slightly drunk and couldn’t focus clearly.

“I told you in the note that—”

“Fuck the note! Didn’t I tell you to stay home?”

He slowly walked my way with his hands clenching and unclenching into a tight fist.

BOOK: The Ties That Bind

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