Chapter 18

Eighteen

Q ueenie

Our first stop for the day was a department store. One that didn't even allow Coloreds to shop here until a few years ago. Since the laws changed, I've always wanted to stop in and see what all the fuss was about, but I never felt comfortable doing so on my own. With Cillian on my arm, no one would say anything to me but the stares sometimes felt more threatening than the words folks didn't say. The moment we entered the store eyes followed us like an owl in a graveyard but my husband didn't seem to notice it, or perhaps he just didn't care. All I knew was that I planned to stay glued to him.

I wasn't going to let a few jealous stares scare me out of shopping here. We perused a few displays, as one by one I grabbed my choices, and what felt like out of nowhere, came a clerk with mousy brown hair and a pinched nose, discomfort weighing heavy on her features.

"Just so you know, if you try any of those on, you'll have to pay for them." At which Cillian's brows rose down in confusion.

"And what for? Do you ask that of everyone?" I stepped in between them, trying to calm down an annoyed Cillian.

"Baby, it's okay. Don't let something like this ruin our day, okay?" I knew the reason, it just hurt to say it out loud. They didn't want to sell something after a Colored girl wore it, which made no sense. We were good enough to clean your houses, make your food and nurse your children but some drew the line at trying on clothes. If we were so damn dirty, maybe some of them should have thought about that before forcing us to be their labor! Perhaps I'd explain it to Cillian later, but now it just wasn't the time.

Settling on three, we walked back to the dressing room and Cillian waited the furthest he was allowed to come inside. I entered the dressing room, taking off my jacket to admire myself in the mirror, but a conversation nearby had caught my attention.

"Before we started doing backdoor stuff, it was a hassle to keep him from coming home late. He doesn't want any more kids but refuses to wear protection. So, the other hole just keeps me from getting pregnant. Plus, it stays the same back there. Even after having a baby. When I had Michael, things felt so different, so I suspect it was the same for him."

I was shocked. Where I was from, you didn't hear women discussing such private matters, even in women only spaces.

"You know how men are. They hardly spend the time revving you up to make sure you get there. I found that when I touched myself before Donald comes home, I get there in half the time, since he doesn't spend much time on foreplay. To try something new, he convinced me to put my mouth there, but the man won't go near my privates unless it's to put his member in. A man acts like he's so scared of it or something."

Maybe I was being naive, but to say that I was shocked was an understatement. Hearing other woman talk about intimacy with their husbands sounded dreadful and unfulfilling. Could that have been my fate? Cillian was so… different . He could spend hours just kissing and touching me, and even longer making love.

Here I was thinking that that was every woman's experience but hearing others discuss it, would it change once we started having children. Would I have to be open to letting him it stick it back there, too? The first dress I wanted to try on, in my haste, picked up the wrong size. To right my wrong I stepped out, only to be confronted by one of the women in the room next door who was having said conversation. Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw me, handing me her dress leaving me confused.

"Oh, thank God you're here. I'd like for you to grab me the same dress but in a size six. While you're at it, I'd like to try on that purple one in the window, same size." This heifer thinks I work here. That was the final nail in the coffin. I let the dress fall to the floor, adopted a fuck you smile and addressed her in my calmest tone.

"I'm sorry, I don't work here. But I'm sure the ladies that do, would be delighted to help." I stormed outside, not even caring that I left the dresses I had back with those microaggressions. Taking Cillian's hand, I led him back to the stores entrance ready to shop someplace else.

"Baby, let's go. I don't feel comfortable shopping here.

"Why? What happened?"

"It doesn't matter. I just…I just want to go someplace else." The moment we are out of the store I released a sigh of relief. I wasn't going to let this test me, and I wasn't going to let this ruin what was supposed to be a good day.

He took me back to the car and attempted to help strap me in, which was thwarted by me climbing into his lap, as I leaned in and kissed him. I was grateful to have a man who worshipped me so I didn't have to be a bitter, desperate homemaker fishing for trade secrets on how to keep my husband from wandering. Unsurprisingly, he kissed me, back showing me nothing but warm, undying affection.

Hey, what'r you doing? I thought we were supposed to be getting some clothes."

"We are. I just wanted a reminder of how lucky I am," I said as his hands caressed my backside and a dopey grin lit up his face.

"And everything's alright? Cause I mean, we left the store pretty quickly, and I didn't even get to see you try anything on."

"I know… it's just…I don't think they're good quality. Is there anywhere else we could go?" I questioned, thinking that we should have just gone to the Black part of town.

"I mean, the only place that comes to mind is my sister's shop. But I fear it's so small it won't have the selection a department store has but she makes custom orders, too."

His sister's shop didn't sound like a bad idea, at least she was family. I had met all the Sullivan brothers, but his sister came around the least, likely because she didn't involve herself in the family business. I couldn't imagine how to picture a female Sullivan but this was the chance to meet her. Besides, there were some things I wanted to discuss with her as a woman. And I knew that I if I went to his brothers about it first, it would take too long to get things in the working.

"I'll go to your sister's shop."

"You will?" I nodded cheerfully, climbing back over to my seat as he started the car. When we arrived at his sister's shop, it was in the sleepier part of town but still overwhelmingly Irish or their descendants. The bells at the door chimed as we stepped inside, and a woman I suspected was his sister sat on a stool adjusting the hems on a dress, her mouth full of pins.

She shared the same dangerously sharp blue eyes, but her hair was dark like Bellamy's. The smug look on her face made me think of Paddy and she was tall for a woman. That made me think of Tadhg. When she noticed us, she stood and walked over, her outfit a touch of masculine elegance.

"Well, isn't this a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you." The two embraced, then collectively turned to me, and I'll admit her stare was just as intimidating as Cillian's could be.

"No need to introduce yourself, hon. I know all about you. Queenie, right? I'm órfhlaith," she said with an outstretched hand.

"Pretty girl, you are. What brings you in here?" Cillian stepped in, which gave me a chance to look around a bit more. It wasn't as small as he made it out to be, more like quaint. The options she had were nice but the best part was the peaceful experience. No one following me around, no one accusing me of working here. I could see myself leaving with a bunch of dresses from here.

"Yeah, next time you pick out a dress from my wife, I want to see it first. Almost had a fit when she tried it on," Cillian said as I walked back into their conversation.

"Cilly, that's the problem with you men. You have a pretty girl and you don't want to show her off. Don't listen to my brother. Even for the youngest, he can be a bloody Neanderthal," she joked.

"As you can see, it's we slow here. So, you'll have the shop to yourself without having to wait for fitting room." The more she spoke, the easier it was to feel Cillian's kindness in her. I wonder what it was like growing up with four brothers. I had two but at least I had two sisters to balance it out.

"If you need any help, lass, just give me a holler," she said in a thick creamy accent, but Cillian was quick to insist that he'd be the only help I'd need. They had this little banter thing going on. I wonder if it was the same with the rest of her brothers. I took my time taking in the modest displays and exploring her limited collections. Before I knew it, I had ten dresses in my hand, modeling each one for Cillian as he joined me in the dressing room.

"Which ones do you like, Queenie?" I shrugged, looking between the six I'd already tried on so far.

"I don't know. I kind of liked them all." I knew I didn't need them all but, they were all so nice, and it was soothing shopping at a place I felt more comfortable at. Before I could wiggle in to dress seven, Cillian signaled me over to the lounge where he sat, his hands brushing along my stocking covered thighs.

" Mmm . All the dresses so far did look really sexy on you. But every time you switch out to just your bra and knickers, my cock twitches in my pants just to feel you." His gentle touch found its way to my sex, applying the perfect pressure to leave me squirming even through my panties.

"Maybe it's not such a good idea to fool around in your sister's shop dressing room." He drew me in closer, coaxing me with that drunken lust stare that I used to find scary. A smirk spread across his mouth at the presence of my weakness. And as much as I hated being so powerless, even something simple felt so good in his hands.

"She said it herself, it's slow up there. You're here, and I'm here. But where I want to be is…" He lowered to the floor on his knees and pressed a soft kiss to my lace panties. " There . órfhlaith won't even know if we're quiet and quick. Don't you want to be my good girl?" He said planting another kiss on my pussy.

I nodded, even though my words should have said no. The sight of him pulling my panties down made me so dripping wet. No regular good girl would find herself doing this in a restricted place, but his good girl was a whole different breed. I attempted to deny him his plans to take my off my underwear, mouthing the words " No … we can't ," and in true Cillian fashion, he whispered " Yes, we can ."

His full lips rewarded the hood of my pussy with a sweet kiss, and then gifted me with a second but this time with a swipe of his tongue. He forced me open, his mouth teasing my clit free with the gentleness of his sucking. I gave in letting him lift my thigh onto his shoulder to gain better access, as I looked down to him, the sight of him on his knees licking me, tasting me, needing me , had me covering my mouth to stifle my moans.

His sister on the other side of that door would be so humiliating, but the thought of getting caught trumped the shame behind it. Before I knew it, I was grinding my sex into his mouth, eager to give into the climax and leave him covered in my essence.

"Mmm.. ." I moaned under a muffle, as I rode his face to the path of ecstasy, sprinting to absolute bliss. I raked my fingers through his hair, toying with the neat style of his slicked back hair cut, unable to help that I needed something to hold on to as this man sucked the living soul out of me.

Being silent, approaching a climax wasn't easy. I really took for granted at how loud I could be at home. I fought back the cry of my orgasm as he licked the remaining traces of my arrival with his tongue, as next he coaxed me down to the floor where he positioned me on all fours. He pulled his pants down, planting a kiss on my rear end before sinking his hard, thick length in measured inches.

"Fuck, Queenie, that pussy feels so good after you've come for me. It's going to be so hard keeping quiet," he whispered, turning my chin to muffle my moans with a kiss. I loved how intimate it was when he faced me. He was always leaning into kiss me or gaze into my eyes. Telling me sweet things. Telling me naughty things. But when he took me from behind it was a whole different breed of man. Rough, possessive and obsessively deviant.

He claimed he loved this view of me. That it turned him into something wild, something I could attest to because he definitely possessed the power to unlock different parts of me. When he took me from behind, I felt like a full-blown sex goddess. I never wanted him to stop thrusting, because once he hit that spot, it would feel so good that I'd want to cry. This time, he kept his pace slow but it still felt dangerously sinful, and every time the length of him stretched my body, I couldn't help but want to give him my release all over again.

"Oh, fuck. Look at yourself, Queenie. Look at yourself being a needy little whore for me." He lifted my head adjusting my gaze to the mirror, and while it was intimidating, it was strangely erotic to watch as I unfolded at everything he did to me. I didn't say it enough, but I loved every inch of him.

The way his powerful arms held me. The build and strength of his shoulders, chest and stomach, all the way down to his muscular thighs. How his cultural body art added character to his frame. One thing couldn't be denied. He was all man. Dominant. Dangerous and all out masculine, but then there was a soft side of him that cried out to my divine femininity. Even the way he looked at me left me weak in the knees. I couldn't believe that this was my husband and that this was would forever be mine.

"Oh fuck." A moaned slipped past my lips, as he reached in and to cover his mouth on mine.

"Shhh…Queenie, we can't be too loud, remember?"

" Mmm … I know, it just feels so good ," I whimpered, my heart only stopping at the knocking of the dressing room door.

" Oi , Cilly, you better not be fucking in there. It's getting too damn quiet and then all of a sudden, I hear a woman's moaning." He covered my mouth and we shared a laugh as he buried his cock the deepest he could go, his hips grinding salaciously so that I felt him in every direction.

"Hey, of course we're not fucking in here, órfhlaith. My wife, she's just struggling getting out of these damn dresses. You're gonna wait by the bloody door and listen until we leave or something?

"You must think I'm an eejit. I know what a woman's moaning sounds like?" she said behind the door, as he withdrew from me and teased me with one slow deep thrust. I bit his hand to stop me from moaning but it was those slow thrusts chipping away at my sanity. This time, a moan did break through.

"Oi, now I know you're in there shagging! You're gonna make me have to close up my shop."

"You can't close the shop up for thirty fucking minutes?"

" Ohhhhh …." she shrieked. "I swear, you boys, you have no respect for anything. Not me, not my shop. And just to get your fucking cock wet. You can forget about that family discount I offered you last time. Everything you're getting today is at full price."

I felt awful. My first time meeting his sister and already with his help, I was getting on her bad side. I'd be sure to offer my sincerest apologies but only after Cillian and I submitted to our weaknesses, and as her steps grew further away, his demand for my silence seemed like a distant memory.

"Oh, baby. Maybe we should stop," I panted, struggling to catch my breath as he pounded into me.

"Knee deep in your pussy and you're worried about my sister. Now that she knows, there's no need for me to be quiet anymore and neither should you. Arch your back baby, and let me please you. You won't feel a lick of shame when you come on my cock."

Obeying his command, he thrusted his hard cock deeper inside me, sending the present me further and further to a region in outer space. A hard slap on my bottom caused me to gasp sharply, another one following adding a strange sense of pain that added to the pleasure.

"You like it when I slap your arse, Queenie?"

"Mmmhmm," I moaned, startled by another striking. This time it was the other cheek, a sensation that felt infantilizing, but at the same time delicious. I got spanked as a kid and never felt anything but rage and pain, but now as my man's delectable length pistoned in and out of me, I could only feel waves of pleasure dragging me off of the closest cliff.

"Queenie, you gonna come on my cock, baby?"

"Yes," I said in a broken moan.

"Then say it. Oh, fuck, darling, I want to hear you say it," He said, gripping my ass, his cock feeling like heaven inside me.

"I'm gonna come on your cock, baby." At my declaration he growled, his wild animalistic side claiming any will I had over my body. Blood rushed to my privates, a fresh stream of my gushing arousal coating his demanding length. His body locked in place, thrusting away until he found his path to the Promised Land. Still partly dressed he collapsed on top of me, dressing my moist back and shoulders in rains of kisses. Another knock on the door had mutually shifted our gaze to the fitting room entrance, her energy as if she was going to rush us out her store with a broomstick.

"Ay mate, it's been more than thirty minutes, and if it's all the same to you, I'd like to open my bloody store.

***

"How much?" Cillian questioned, leaning on the front counter. I must have picked out four more dresses and my husband was spoiling me with all of them. I felt so greedy, but figured since we desecrated her fitting room, we might as well make it up for it by buying her out. He handed her two hundred- dollar bills, to which she placed in her register and offered no change?

"Oi, I don't get my change?" She faked a smile, folding the last dress before wrapping it in delicate tissue paper and placing it in one of two bags.

"Not when I had to close my shop. You and the bloody Sullivan curse. Just once I wish you boys would control your need to fuck all the time."

"You don't have to be such a cunt. Now I've got to waste time driving to the bank," he scoffed, as I waited until he brought the bags outside to offer an apology.

"I just want to apologize," I started, shamefully.

"Don't know why. I blame Cillian. For everything. Even before they do it, it's my brothers' fault. They always lead with their bloody members. Like stray dogs pestering you for your attention until next thing you know they're sleeping on the edge of your bed. Everything all right, love? You're just staring at me."

"Oh." I snapped out of my stupor, reminding myself of my purpose.

"So, getting to know Cillian more, I was wondering where would be a good place to hold a Sunday dinner. He's always doing such sweet things for me. I wanted to surprise him with an old family tradition. He told me the other day that you used to have them all the time, and I know I haven't been family for long, but I just I wanted to do something that would make him happy. I thought about hosting our place, but it might be a bit crowded for more than the two of us. Assuming that you'd accept my invitation." Her lips turned down and she shrugged.

"Haven't thought much about it. Partly since the boys ain't gonna organize something they consider woman's work but I like the idea, especially if I had more help. I've got a big house just outside the city, we can host there. I know you've got your own cuisine and culture, but if you'd like a hand with some Irish recipes, give me your number and I'll give you a ring when Cillian's at work. I know all of Cilly's favorites, which judging by his pudgy cheeks, you're already fattening him up." That was easier than I thought.

"Thank you, órfhlaith. For being so accommodating. Cillian talks about you all the time and always has nice things to say." Her brows lifted, as she brought a lit match to her cigarette.

"Well, then he's lying. I may be a lass but I'm still a Sullivan. Most times, I don't know how to stay out of trouble. But as a woman with four brothers and a son, it'll be nice having another woman around. And you're one of us, I suppose that makes us sisters. Just make sure my brother treats you proper. I can see what he sees in you. A guide through the darkness. Just see to it that the darkness doesn't consume you." She came behind the counter and surprised me with a hug.

"We'll talk later, love. Now go out there before my brother starts blabbering again. Once he starts he won't bloody stop."

***

Cillian

"Mmm, let me try some of yours," I asked, as Queenie took turns sipping from my milkshake to her ice cream cone. Ironically, her favorite flavors were vanilla and strawberry and while I'd always been more of an ice lollie fan, the pull of chocolate was pretty damn addicting. She held the spoon up to my mouth but I wanted my sample straight from the source. I kissed her, a mix of sweet and tangy as she shyly pulled away from me. "I like it better from your lips."

"Baby tone it down. People are staring." I looked around to confirm her claim. It wasn't just one person burning a hole through us, it felt like the whole damn malt shop. I knew mixed race marriages weren't a common thing yet but I didn't understand the reason folks were so uncomfortable about it for. She was just a woman, and I a man, and we were in love. I asked myself would this have been me staring a mixed couple down like they didn't belong three years ago? It made me sick to my stomach to even think about it. If people were so happy about their own lives, why did they care so much about ours.

"I ain't toning nothing down. If I want to kiss my wife, I'll kiss my wife in public. You don't like it? You don't have to bloody look." I reached in for another kiss, but this time she was hesitant and I couldn't fucking shake the stare of some wanker being loud and annoying two tables down. You stared too long at someone in prison like that and you got yoked up.

"What are you staring at mate? A man can't get a fucking milkshake with his lady without you watching us like we're in a zoo," I said, interlocking her fingers in mine as he whispered something, and suddenly the whole table started laughing.

"What was that, mate? I didn't fuckin' hear you." He cleared his throat wearing this smug look of arrogance on his aged face.

"I said, if you stopped flaunting that monkey, we wouldn't have to stare like we're at a zoo." The hurt on her face forced me out of my chair, ignoring her excessive pleas to let it go. I may have grown up to be prideful fuck, but me having pride in my culture, my country, my language and my people were never an excuse to go around saying things like that.

If he'd been talking about me, I would simply ignored it. But no one was going to get away with calling my beautiful wife an animal. In an instant, I had lifted this man up by his collar, my pistol slamming into his face until he was bruised and beaten. I could've went all night smashing his face in but when Queenie ran outside, I ignored the threats to call the police to follow her out to console her.

"Cillian, what is the matter with you?" She screamed, hitting me across the chest until I pinned them to her sides. "Here we are having a good time and you just have to make a big show in there." I blinked in confusion. Was she at mad at me?

"Baby, help me understand. Why are you upset at me? Did you not hear what that bigot called you?"

"Yes, Cillian. I did. But I've been called worse. It's dangerous to do what you just did. And a gun to a malt shop? Cillian, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I always carry my gun with me. But really, are you mad at me ?" She wiped the stream of tears that falling down her face, bringing her emotions to a calm.

"You think this is the first time we've been getting stares? That's the only reason we left the first dress shop. Between being followed and watched, and then being accused of working there." How could I not see something was off at the department store. I only suspected but this was just one of my blind spots.

"I'm sorry, Queenie. I didn't know."

"Why would you, Cillian? Some people in this city only have hate in their hearts. Italian and the Irish, Jews and the Chinese, the only thing y'all come together for is the hate for Black folk. You've been dealing with this for one day but I've been dealing with it my whole life . And when you do things like that, it doesn't make me feel safe."

"I…I don't know how to navigate this space like you, but the last thing I'm gonna do is sit back and allow someone to disrespect my wife right in front of me. Queenie, I don't want to scare or embarrass you, but that's how I was brought up to deal with things, through violence. My first instinct is to protect you, and that's the only way I know how to." She wiped her sniffling nose as I offered her my handkerchief.

"Can we just sit in the car for a second?" I opened and closed her door behind her before I walked back to the driver's side. She took a deep breath and I laid back in my chair, the stress consuming me.

"I felt like…it felt like we were having such a nice day before this. Stares aside." She took my hand, bringing it up to her lips to kiss, as she caressed the tracing of my beard.

"Cillian, I'm not mad at why you did it. I just want you to be more careful. What if someone had come after us? What if he was with a gang of equally dangerous people? Have you ever seen a man get lynched before? Because I have, and I would never forgive myself if something like that ever happened to you."

"I know, baby. I wasn't thinking. Would you like for me to take you home?"

"Actually, I had another idea." Assuming she'd want to have nothing else to do with me today, I was relieved when she had other plans. "Have you ever been to a juke joint before?"