Free On the Run with Love by J.M. Benjamin Page A

I hope I packed some panties.” She giggled, still pulling stuff out. She found a few pair of Freddie’s boxers and a couple of bras. She shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to get some tomorrow.”
    â€œDig, I’ma go get somethin’ to eat,” Freddie informed her.
    â€œOkay.”
    Freddie left the room. Simone had just pulled off her sweatshirt when she noticed that the TV had a radio on it as well. She fiddled with the remote until she figured out how to turn off the TV and turn on the radio. She turned the digital dial until she heard Avant’s “Read Your Mind” on 104.3.
    Simone took off her low-rider jeans, panties, and bra before entering the bathroom completely naked. She opened up the taps and sat on the toilet seat to watch the tub fill with steaming water and bubbles from the complimentary bubble bath she’d poured in. When the tub was full and the bubble level to her liking, she put her hair up in a ponytail and tested the water with the tips of her toes. Perfect.
    Simone slid into the warm water like she would slide under a quilt on a cold and stormy winter night. She let the water cradle her, rocking her ever so gently whenever she moved around. She held up her left hand and looked at the light spot the ring had left on her chocolate complexion. She thought about calling her mother but didn’t want to do it from the motel phone. She promised herself she’d call in the morning. What to say, she hadn’t figured out yet. She couldn’t picture herself saying, “Hey, Ma, me and Freddie on the run from the police. I’ll try to stay in touch.”
    She laughed to herself to keep from crying because the whole situation was madness. She lathered up and washed her body to the sounds of Sade, Maxwell, India Arie, and Mary J. before she got out to dry off. As she toweled her back, she heard one of her songs by Jaheim fill the air. She opened the door to go turn it up but found the room completely dark except for several flickering candles strategically placed around the room. Freddie was straddling the sole chair in the room backward, his chest against the back of it. Simone stopped in front of the light, right outside the bathroom, where the sink and a large mirror were.
    â€œStay right there, boo. Just let me look at you.”
    Freddie’s eyes devoured his woman from head to toe, from her silky Indian mane to her slanted brown eyes, sculpted cheekbones, African nose, and full, pouty lips. His eyes traveled along her slender neck, which curved into small feminine shoulders. The cool air from the AC made her pretty pink nipples stick out almost a full half inch. It was like she could feel his eyes kissing her all over, because as he looked lower, her heart rate increased, her breathing shortened, and her wetness began to lubricate her thighs.
    Freddie continued his visual nibbling. As Keith Sweat began to sing, so did he, but in that melodic octave that always made Simone melt. Freddie began to chime the lyrics. He got up and walked over to her. He continued chanting the words to the popular ’80s track as he took her hand in his and kissed it.
    â€œDamn, you beautiful, Simone.” He gently turned her around to face her own reflection in the mirror. “See what I see,” he whispered, running a tantalizing finger down her spine, making her jump slightly and bite her trembling bottom lip. She watched and felt his hands cup both of her breasts, pulling and teasing her nipples as he sang softly in her ear. Each syllable pronounced sent chills throughout her entire body, moistening her inner thighs.
    Simone squirmed. Her chest raised as she placed her hands on top of his. She gripped them tightly as he massaged her breasts. She relaxed her chocolate body against him.
    Freddie kept eye contact with her through the mirror. He slid their hands down to her belly. She watched them go lower and lower. Her eyes took on a panther-like glow,