Cherry's Dawn || Skipper and Monty

Cherry's Dawn || Chapter 9

Author's Note: Mature themes ahead.

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November 1983

MICHAEL

I loved her before even confessing it out loud. There I stood at the microphone, pleading over the slow rhythm of "A Man's World." Behind my sunglasses, I crooned for the most beautiful angel. Her smile flashed through my conflicted mind as I thought of Prince's intruding just last month. Low beams of his motorcycle shined brighter than the cameras I'd known since youth.

In this moment, Brenda Michelle cherished me, not a man who kept beckoned dozens of women every second.

Despite the ache within my heart, I'd blacked out and danced rapidly to the changing but funky beat. Never had my own feet zipped so fast to honor James. Not even seconds later, James trapped me in an excited hug before I returned to my seat.

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During the limousine ride home, I'd spent time in the backseat wiping away tears of laughter. Even Bill chuckled up front with the chauffer. Almost immediately after I left the stage, James called out Prince to perform during the jam session that began. Poor guy couldn't even adjust the guitar around his chest. To make matters worse, a huge prop shattered right on the stage, but thankfully no one received injuries from what I learned.

Yet, earlier crooning resonated through my mind again. That sweet smile flashed through, brighter than ever. I'd do anything to speak with her again, but I'd always wondered if she and Prince had been an item, especially considering their interaction during the shoot that night. They almost reflected a married couple based on body language alone. At the same time, I knew so much better than to ask such a personal question.

I'd left a message on her answering machine as soon as I escaped Joseph's presence after dinner. Even Brenda's sweet recorded voice could bring a smile to my face. Like I've said, girlfriend had me whipped long before we even got together. Again, I even wondered how Prince felt about her overall. There was no way he could resist someone as captivating as Baby Girl.

"Hey, this is Brenda Michelle. I'm not at the phone right now, but you could leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

As expected the beep rang I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Hi, girl. It's Michael." I blushed without laughing in one way or the other. "I've missed your company to be honest with you and um..." I stopped for a moment to actually chuckle this time. "I uh, I hope you enjoyed our last visit together, but I'd really like to see you again. Call me back whenever you're free, okay? Good night, sweetie. Bye."

I huffed staring the ceiling overhead. At least my feelings slightly revealed themselves now.

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MONTY

Skip and I couldn't even argue about what happened during the concert. It wasn't like he'd rehearsed anyway. Yet, I watched him pace the floor of my bedroom once again, huffing inaudibly to himself. Each time I tried to help easing him for bed, he refused and continued pacing without those heels on my carpeted floor. I'd never seen him so shaken up after a performance.

"Baby?" I asked in a delicate voice.

He finally looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heart honestly shattered piece by piece. Through his tears, Skip leaned across my blanketed body and planted a mild kiss, allowing the salt of his own tears to reach my face. His voice croaked with humility and sadness, I could've wept myself.

Our noses touched as he held my face and kissed me again before finally getting under the covers. Tears stains found their spot on the back of my neck as trailed damp kisses all the way down to the middle of my back. His arms snaked around me. His anxious but somehow firm hands cupped my nude breasts and I could my entire body shift at the feel of his touch.

Just as I went to bury myself in the pillow before my eyes, he pulled me close until my back touched the hair of his chest. I'd turned around in our embrace and smiled against his mustache just before our lips met in a passionate way.

Never did his hands leave my aching chest as he while he circled or moved up and down with me, sending my heart closer and closer to the edge. I'd never felt so intoxicated while in bed with any other man, as cliché as it seemed.

He moaned right into my mouth, but whined desperately each time I tried to pull away. His drying tears against my eyes only fueled to my desire to never leave his arms right now. Darkness engulfed my bedroom as continued groaning deeper and deeper into my mouth, never even considering the need for intercourse, which didn't surprise for once at a time like this.

I finally pulled away from his sweet lips and he whined even more desperately than I ever expected. I opened my arms and held him like a child as my short curls reached down to tickle his nose. He offered a warm smile and kissed me so deeply, I felt in my soul once pulling away again.

"I love you." he whispered, caressing my face.

I kissed him back with furrowed eyebrow, stroking the hair on his chest until we both felt asleep that night.