The Swan Read online

  The

  Swan

  Aja

  www.ajathewriter.com

  She Loves Words Publishing

  Pittsburgh, PA

  The Swan

  Aja

  She Loves Words Publishing

  © Aja Graves 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the publisher, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To the underdogs.

  Shine, dear ones, shine.

  Acknowledgements

  I thank God my Father, for this gift. It extends far beyond the pen, but the pen gave me an outlet for my passions, thoughts, and connected me with the world in a way that was likely not possible any other way.

  I thank everyone who I love and who loves on me back.

  Aja

  “There are those that paint their beauty on their canvas, and there are others who are the paint.” - Aja

  Dear Reader,

  This is a short story that moves fast. No slow build, not a lot of filler. This couple gets to the point.

  I often employ different styles of storytelling; one might work for a reader and another won’t. When the Swan came to me, I thought of a woman and a man sitting side by side telling a couple of friends how they came to be together. There are spaces in between chapters they don’t fill in because that’s often how stories are told. We share what is significant, or what we deem appropriate. Granted this story has lots of hot sex so it’s not likely something they would share so graphically but I decided to let them let it out just for you. If you find yourself wondering what happened in between one point to the next, just know I was left wondering too. These two are very tight lipped.

  Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story released just for Book Euphoria’s Carnivale 2020.

  -Aja

  Chapter One

  “You know that I want you. I’ve always wanted you Nova and now I’m going to have you.”

  “I’ve been wanting you since high school, Mikhail.”

  With those words, she made it very clear what she wanted and needed to come next, regardless of their ugly past.

  Mikhail’s dark eyes bore into hers as he undressed her slowly. His fingers brushed against her hot skin, enflaming her more. Her core clenched at the thought of them skipping all of this and getting to the good part. This was the reason why he was here in her room. His lips met hers and she leaned into his kiss, trying to get as much out of this interlude as she could. Somehow, she knew it wouldn’t last forever. They weren’t even supposed to have this moment. He belonged to someone else, but she wouldn’t worry about Toya or about the teasing taunts that barraged her almost daily right now. He was finally here making her feel beautiful and wanted.

  He pulled her over to the bed, pushing her down upon it gently and painted her flesh with strokes from his lips, his hands, his tongue and his fingers. When he had her panting and dripping warm, thick honey onto the sheets, he entered her with one hard thrust. Her hips worked up against his punctuated pumping and she could already feel herself beginning to come apart around him. She desperately wanted to hold onto this moment because she was sure it would end with him walking away from her and back to Toya but when he reached down to rub her clit, she flew apart and screamed out his name, forgetting why that mattered.

  Nova woke with a start. Her two fingers dug deeply inside of her wet opening. Her body was damp from perspiration. Her chest heaving from excitement. She was alone, of course. There was no Mikhail. After so many years of not dreaming about him, she wondered why he decided to appear this night?

  There would be no answer to that question, at least not one that made sense. So, Nova got up to wash the residue of her orgasm and imaginary sex from her still-thrumming body.

  The man could make her cum even in her dreams. She wondered what it would be like in real life, but she also knew wondering about it was a waste of time because it would never happen.

  The next day, she and her friend, Debbie were packing for her vacation slash class reunion and the erotic dream still lingered in her mind. She wouldn’t mention it to her therapist or to Debbie, whom she was sure would encourage her to find Mikhail and make the dream come true. She was just that outrageous.

  “I know you’re not planning on wearing this, are you?”

  Snatching the Terri cloth robe away from Debbie’s fingers, Nova responded, “Yeah, no one’s going to see it.” Especially not Mikhail. “What’s the issue?”

  Debbie’s amber-colored eyes inspected the light blue fuzzy robe Nova always took on her trips to ensure she was never too cold when getting out of the shower. Then she started shaking her head and sighing.

  “You’re totally not understanding what it means to have vacation vibes but let me explain that―that is not it.”

  “No one is going to see me in the robe, Deb.”

  “Well, I hope not.”

  Nova ignored Debbie’s muttering, and continued to roll her multiple pairs of shorts, tanks, tees, and a couple of summer dresses into the open suitcase laying on her bed. She really didn’t even want to go on this cruise, but Debbie insisted and promised to buy a hard-to-sell painting that had been collecting dust in her small studio.

  Nova was an art buyer and seller of mostly African, African-American and Afro- Caribbean works. Because of the latter, Debbie stated she might be inspired and possibly find some cool pieces to buy while in port and have shipped back to the states.

  Nova couldn’t argue with her logic. Though she lived in one of the most cultural cities in the United States, the Caribbean wasn’t one of the most-dominant influences inside of Chicago, though it certainly was one of the influences. Chicago was truly a melting pot full of culture and people who were all too happy to let you know what made them diverse as well as a true Chicagoan; something Nova could relate to.

  Between constantly having somewhere to go, something good to eat, and a beautiful skyline, Chicago was where her heart was. So much so that after opportunities to relocate after she finished her Masters in Modern and Contemporary Art History at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Nova decided to stay in her hometown. Why leave Chicago?

  “I’m not going on this cruise to have someone to show my robe to anyway, Deb.”

  “That should be why, but we’ll drop that for now.”

  After a moment of watching her friend place the last few items from her bed into her suitcase she asked her a question that had been burning inside of her since she arrived to Nova’s house over an hour ago. She knew that Nova was especially sensitive about going on this trip alone. “Are you upset at me for dropping out at the last minute?”

  “I really should be, but no. Knowing me, I’ll probably stay in the cabin and sleep the entire time.”

  “Girl, you betta get a drank or something. This is going to be a booze cruise.” Her attempt to bring humor into the situation to help calm her nerves was not lost on Nova.

  “How would you know?”

  “Because it’s a five-day cruise going only to a couple of islands in the Bahamas, that’s how I know.”

  If Debra had told Nova this info before she agreed to go, she might not be going at all. Matter of fact, she would definitely not be going. Alcohol had a way of bringing the worse out of people and many of the people in that group had already been pretty horrible to her back in the day.

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “What am I thinking?”

/>   Nova avoided looking at Debbie’s all-too-knowing eyes and grabbed her water shoes and sandals from the front of her walk-in closet. She had signed up to do an excursion, actually several, to avoid being alone when she found out Deb would not be traveling with her.

  “You’re thinking they are going to still see the ugly duckling from all those years ago, but that isn’t possible.”

  This time, Nova levied her with a glare, “And why the hell not? They were the most despicable group of teenagers I had ever encountered. Why would they all of a sudden be different and nice to me?”

  “Well, for one, you are a different person, Nova. Why can’t they be different too?”

  Debbie was a social worker, naturally nurturing and reasonable. There were moments where that was exactly what Nova needed, but today was not one of those moments. Right now, she needed her best friend, her only friend, to be unreasonable and very irrational right along with her.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  Not believing she’ll ever see it, she finished packing as Debbie chattered away about the conference she was attending. The conference about the disparity in social work initiatives geared towards minorities was the reason she was not Nova’s roommate on this cruise.

  When Nova received the invitation to go on this class reunion, Deb happened to be in her kitchen when she threw the postcard down. She, being the nosey person she is, picked it up and made up something appealing to force Nova to go. She also promised to be there with Nova every step of the way, knowing that would be the only way Nova would even consider coming face-to-face with her high school nemesis, Toya.

  Toya was the it girl for everything; cheerleading, homecoming queen, and class president. She had all the boys after her, one in particular.

  Mikhail. Mikhail with his dark, satin-smooth skin and cut biceps, was every girl’s dream back at Blythe T. Young Magnet High School, but he seemed to only have eyes for Toya. If anyone even tried to get his attention, which was nearly impossible, she’d make it clear she would kick ass to protect her turf. Nova made sure never to try to get Mikhail’s attention, though she knew if he did pay me any mind, it would be to tease her like the others did.

  She was no beauty and was reminded of it every day.

  Chapter Two

  Mikhail and his long-legged stride made the way through O’Hare Airport to the gate with just enough time to stand in line for his boarding group. He almost didn’t make it at all because of how many times he considered not going on this cruise. His hesitation made him have a late start, but eventually he released his doubts and decided to go anyway.

  Cruises were for old people is what he thought. That, and the fact that he was never that great at swimming. No matter what anyone said, there was always a risk of the boat sinking and everyone needing to know how to swim. Not everyone could fit on those life boats, he thought. Which is practically what his father told him. “I can’t drink all that water,” is what his dad said when he tried to talk him into joining him when he found out Darren McBride, his old classmate, could no longer come.

  Funny thing was, Darren asked him to come when he and his girlfriend broke up and he was looking for someone else to room with. It was a casual mention when he reached out to Mikhail about a car he was looking at on website of the dealership Mikhail was a salesman at.

  All Darren asked was that Mikhail pay for the port fees and taxes. But then Darren bailed out and told Mikhail the travel agent could work it where Mikhail could either cruise alone or bring someone too. Alone sounded nice especially since he had no major plans to hang with the reunion group except to show his face but he had been trying to connect with his dad. With his mother now gone from brain cancer, all he had was Pops and the resentment from years ago needed to be let go.

  He wasn’t quite sure why he would even attempt to get his dad to come though. Roger wasn’t one to have a good time, at least not that kind. His idea of fun was digging into his son about how he didn’t amount to much; to what he thought sons were supposed to be. Somehow, Mikhail thought this cruise would bring them closer together. Like that could ever happen. He had a better chance at making it into the NFL with his bum knee he injured his senior year of high school.

  Talking himself out of going on the cruise became a mantra he would start his day with because the idea of a class reunion irked him for reasons he didn’t like to think about. He wondered why anyone wanted to go to these things.

  No one was ever really the same after fifteen to twenty years. Matter of fact, they usually looked worse for the wear but maybe wiser and kinder in comparison. He certainly was.

  He couldn’t and wouldn’t complain about how he looked. Then and now, wherever he went, women swarmed to him like bees to flowers. They loved him. His skin was in style then and now. Tall, dark, handsome, and with a chiseled body were words that had been used to describe him for as long as he could remember. But even then, he wanted to be seen as more than a fine face and great body.

  He had a brain, and he was creative. It was just a sin to share any of that growing up in his house. His father forbade him to paint because according to him, that was sissy shit. Not something a man did. As a result, he had to take advantage of art class and the moments Mrs. Reniger allowed him to sneak in to finish a piece, though all of that had to happen during his free period. With football taking up so much of his free time, art fell down low on his list, but it was what he enjoyed.

  His mother, Doris, tried her best to protect him from the jabs that constantly assaulted him from his father, but was also hesitant to step in. His dad was constantly reminding her that he was the man and was responsible for turning his son into one too and she couldn’t argue with that, even if she wasn’t convinced that he was going about it the right way.

  The past plagued his thoughts as he took an aisle seat on his morning flight to Miami. He was cutting it close by not coming in a day earlier, something the packet of information from the travel agent recommended they all do. But, given he was dreading the trip altogether, he almost hoped some sort of travel hiccup would keep him from arriving to the ship and coming face-to-face with his past.

  Two hours later, he was in a cab on his way to the cruise port. After paying the porter to take care of his one piece of luggage, he proceeded through the terminal to check in and go through security. It didn’t take long and within minutes, he was stepping onto the fourth floor deck of the ship.

  The music, the lights and the decadence that went into the décor, set the stage for a great time. It inspired him to want to paint, but his sketchbook was in his luggage, put there in an effort to make the journey less cumbersome.This was now something he was regretting.

  He made his way over to the first bar he caught a glimpse of and sat down.

  The bartender, named Motley based on his name tag, asked him what he wanted.

  “An old fashioned,” he said before handing over his sea pass card, which was his ID and credit card all wrapped in one.

  As Motley prepared his drink, he looked around the bar and just then, a beautiful dark brown skinned woman slid onto the stool beside him. Though she was facing away from him, he was certain she was beautiful just by the way she carried herself. Her posture, the glow of her chocolate brown skin already had him intrigued and his finger itched to capture her under the right lighting.

  He noticed she put her phone into a small purse, hanging to her side and then she finally turned straight forward doing as he had been doing, checking out everyone at the bar.

  As Motley returned and placed his drink and card down on the bar, she finally noticed him and looked his way. Her eyes widened, beautiful as they were, before she took on an impassive look that would have scared off any other guy, but not Mikhail. Women either loved the way he looked or they loved his personality. If he had the opportunity to talk to her, he might actually enjoy this cruise and forget about the possibility of sinking, unless it was deep inside of her.

  Motley greeted her and she or
dered a Coconut Mojito.

  They both watched as he went through the process of adding the rum, some sort of syrup and mint leaves before adding a sparkling beverage to it. A few shakes and he poured it into a short glass before dropping in a wedge of lime.

  Motley placed it down in front of her with the pride of a true mixologist and waited as she took a sip and smiled before placing the glass back onto the bar. Seeing an opening, Mikhail decided to try and charm her.

  “Must be good,” Mikhail said to her, spying the red lip print left on the glass. He imagined the print somewhere on him but decided to not feed that thought. For now, he was desperate to get her to look directly at him and when she did, he felt like he’d be punched in the gut.

  She smiled, her teeth straight and pearly white, her cheeks dimpled, and her dark brown eyes sparkling. Simply breathtaking.

  “It is,” she responded before looking away.

  “It’s a nice ship,” he hurried to say. He was looking for anything to say to get her to give him a full view of her pretty face.

  He wasn’t even sure what it was about her but he was drawn to her, as they say, like a moth to a flame. It was as if he knew her from somewhere; her eyes, her smile, her posture. Something said he knew her, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out from where. For now, he just knew he wanted to talk to her. He might get to spend time with her, quite possibly even have a good time with her on this ship.

  “Yeah, it is,” she said and gave him a smile as if she knew that he was trying to hold her here. “It’s the first time I’ve been on this ship, actually it’s the first time I’ve been on a cruise.”

  “Oh yeah, well me too. I’ve traveled out of the country before, even traveled to the Bahamas, but never by ship. It was a classmate who talked me into coming and then he couldn’t come, so that left me alone.” She laughed and it was sultry and sweet.