Insatiable Revenge

by Cynthia Freeman Gibbs

  “I figured you fell in.” He laughed in a hearty way, which she enjoyed the first night they met. For some reason, it didn’t have the same effect on her now.

  “I’m sorry.” Savvy paused. “I’m surprised about your picture by the toilet.”

  “It’s one of my favorite ones. I see why it took you a minute to come out,” Pharrell chuckled.

  Savvy shook her head without a response.

  Pharrell led Savvy to the dining room. She’d stayed away from it as she toured the home to avoid being too close to the kitchen. A portrait on the wall of Pharrell sitting on the beach watching sailboats on the ocean with a sunset offered no surprise. Savvy couldn’t stomach seeing another picture of him. The image she had of him before seeing the Pharrell overload in this house, had now been destroyed.

  Savvy shifted her mind to the aroma of the food, which filled her nose. Salivation began in anticipation of the magnificent spread in fine, white china dishes, on an extended dining room table. Lit candles and white flowers added an aura of royalty. “Everything looks amazing and smells delicious.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Pharrell showed all his pearly whites in a smile. “This seat is for the lovely lady.” He pulled out a white leather chair near the head of the table in front of one of two stainless-steel domed plate covers.

  “Thank you,” Savvy responded and allowed him to scoot her in and place a white napkin on her lap. A purse hook stand was positioned next to the table for her handbag to hang.

  Pharrell refilled their wine glasses before sitting at the head of the table in a chair next to hers. “Let me bless the food.”

  After the grace, Savvy’s anticipation grew as Pharrell removed the covers to reveal plates full of food. Savvy gasped. “Oh, wow. You made a feast. Please tell me. What is this divine cuisine in front of me?”

  Pharrell rubbed his hands together and leaned forward to point out each item on the plate. “What we have is a Moroccan-inspired rack of lamb. I used a traditional and complex Moroccan spice blend called Ras el hanout. It’s served with honey-glazed carrots, rosemary mashed potatoes, braised greens, and sautéed mushrooms. I’m sure you’re pleased with what you see.”

  “Pharrell. You must’ve been cooking all day. Everything is colorful and enticing. Where did you learn to make meals like this?”

  “I took classes at the Culinary Institute of America. Bon Appetit.”

  Savvy sliced into the tender meat and placed the first mouth-watering bite into her mouth. “Umm. Oh, my goodness. Umm. This is good.” The tender lamb melted in her mouth. The flavor from the Moroccan spices exploded on her taste buds. Savvy smacked her lips and forgot all about manners.

  Pharrell placed a fork full of food into his mouth and took his time chewing as if mesmerized by Savvy’s enjoyment of the meal.

  “Here. You have sauce on your face. Let me help you.” Pharrell reached with his cloth napkin and dabbed the side of Savvy’s mouth. His eyes penetrated hers as the napkin dropped from his hand. He began tracing her bottom lip with his finger.

  Electricity shot through Savvy’s body, which almost knocked her from the chair. She wasn’t expecting this effect from his unexpected touch. “Thank you. Did you get all of it?”

  “No. I think there’s more here.” Pharrell leaned inward and replaced his finger with his moistened full lips to peck Savvy on hers.

  Savvy puckered to return the kiss. She enjoyed his lips

  which were softer than she imagined. “Um. I think you got it this time.”

  Pharrell laughed and leaned back. “Excuse me for being rude. I wasn’t planning to kiss you right now. Your face became radiant with the first bite. I must admit, hearing your moans of enjoyment of the food got me excited. I couldn’t resist my urge to get closer.”

  “I liked it.” Savvy grazed her top teeth on the corner of her bottom lip. “No need for an apology.”

  “Let me help you again.” To Savvy’s surprise, Pharrell’s mouth covered hers with heightened intensity. His strong, thick tongue found its way through her lips and tangled with hers, mingling the taste of Moroccan spices. He spread his fingers through her braids and brought her head closer to him. She responded with equal passion.

  Pharrell rubbed Savvy’s back with hands built for massaging kinks out of bodies. The meal dropped from her mind as their lips crushed against each other. Mouths welded together, he lifted her from the chair and pressed his strong body against hers. She didn’t resist.

  Other than the music, their lips smacking together made the only sound in the room. Savvy’s body weakened from the chemistry between them.

  Pharrell moaned and halted their kissing frenzy. He whispered, “Let me show you something.” He took her by the hand and coaxed her to follow him to a side of the house she hadn’t toured yet.

  Surprised by the abrupt ending to their tongue fiesta, Savvy held onto his hand and trailed him to the back of the house without a word. She didn’t have the breath to respond.

  Pharrell opened a closed door. The light in the room consisted of a multitude of candles. Savvy’s eyes adjusted to the change in her vision. She choked when she comprehended what grew to be visible.

  A king-sized, four-poster bed, covered by a red velvet comforter and oversized red pillows, stood in the middle of the room. Matching red velvet curtains framed the bed like a theater stage. Sconces on mirrored walls held lit candles. A magnificent chandelier dangled from the mirrored ceiling. Every direction she turned, there were reflections of her and Pharrell standing together.

  Savvy rubbed her eyes to clear them of what appeared next. A nude portrait of Pharrell floating on a cloud hung above the bed. His attire consisted only of a crown on his head. He held a cluster of grapes above his mouth as if he were a Greek god. Her mouth gaped from the shock of seeing his freak nest.

  Pharrell turned to her and gazed into her eyes with confident passion. “Now, where were we?”

  Savvy knew she would throw up in his mouth if he kissed her again. She held her hand up to stop him from advancing toward her. “Don’t even try it Pharrell. What is this?”

  “It’s Pharrell’s room of love, baby.” His voice dropped into a sultry purr. “It’s time for you and Pharrell to enter into paradise together.” He reached out to embrace her.

  “Oh, uh-uh.” Savvy jumped away from his grasp. “No. This is not why I’m here.”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He gyrated his hips in front of her and licked his tongue across his lips to seduce her.

  “I accepted your invitation to dinner. I’m here to get to know you better. But this?” Savvy waved her hand around the room. “This is too much.”

  “What’s the matter, baby? Too much what?”

  “Too much ‘Pharrell’ going on. Do you realize you have pictures of yourself in every nook and cranny of your house?”

  “People like Pharrell. Like you do.” He untucked the shirt from his jeans and unbuttoned it in a deliberate, slow pace. Without taking his eyes from her, he spun the shirt around in the air before throwing it on the bed. His hips continued to sway.

  “Put your shirt back on and stop talking in the third person about yourself,” Savvy instructed him. Although Pharrell’s six-pack abs were sexy, Savvy’s disgust deleted the enjoyment of seeing them. “Seriously. Why do you have a naked picture of yourself floating on a cloud? Who told you that is okay?”

  “No more questions. Come to Pharrell. Argh.” In a flash, Pharrell wrapped his arms around the back of Savvy’s thighs and hoisted her with ease into an air bear hug. The already short dress, raised beneath her butt. He nuzzled his face into her stomach before looking upward with a lustful smile.

  “Put. Me. Down.” Through clenched teeth, Savvy emphasized each word. She eyeballed him and wagged her finger in his face. “You better put me down, or I swear I will punch you in your throat.”

  “Come on, girl. Why you fightin’ against Pharrell?” He laughed and swung Savvy bac
k and forth in an uncomfortable slow dance.

  “You’ve got the wrong woman. The wrong woman.” Savvy yelled and kicked her legs and flailed her arms like a swimmer to get out of his tight grasp. “Put me down. Now.”

  “Damn, girl. I see you want to play hard to get.” He let her body slide against his before placing her feet on the ground. He squeezed her tight against his bare, shaven chest, nearly flattening her breasts as he gyrated his hips in a slow circle.

  Savvy shoved away from Pharrell with all the force she could muster. She hurried to straighten her dress and tug it into the correct position in the back. “Have you lost your mind? I’m out of here.”

  Out of breath from Pharrell’s sudden outburst of passion, Savvy shook her head and backed toward the door. “I can’t do this with you now, or ever. I’m leaving.” Savvy turned on her heel and dashed through the hall.

  Pharrell rushed after her to the door. “Savvy. Don’t leave. I cooked a gourmet meal for you. Expensive lamb. You know like I do; we’re ready to go to the next level.”

  “I got one bite of my food before you started in on me.” Savvy raised her hand in front of him. “Stop where you are. I’m not interested.”

  Pharrell froze in his tracks. He gawked and blinked as if surprised. “See. You Black women are all the same. You can’t appreciate a good man when you see one. How can you not like being with Pharrell?”

  Savvy grabbed her purse and opened the door. “You Black women?” Savvy spat. “Oh. Now I get it. You pitied me and figured you would give this Black woman a chance to enjoy you?”

  “Exactly. I’ll let you change your mind and come back in.” Pharrell stood in the entryway with arms flung in wide expanse to his sides. Swinging hips jutted forward.

  Savvy glanced back at Pharrell in all his fineness. “Nah. You’re a self-absorbed, conceited, freakshow. You have lost your cotton-pickin’ mind. I think you’d better go back to your freak nest and enjoy yourself, by yourself. Bye.” She marched to her car and sped off without another look in his direction.

  After leaving the neighborhood, she instructed the Bluetooth in her car to call Olivia and got her voicemail. “Girl. You ain’t even gonna believe what happened at Pharrell’s house. I can’t make this stuff up. I’ll fill you in on the recap tomorrow.”

  NINETEEN

  Olivia

  Olivia’s eyes flew open. She rotated her head to the side to check the time. The digital clock read 6:18. Moaning, she rolled onto her back. She’d had a nightmare about being with Malcolm. In her dream, he’d come to her house uninvited and they ended up having sex. “Yuck.”

  Olivia threw back the rumpled covers and rose to sit on the side of the bed before standing to head to the bathroom. She yawned and caught her reflection as she passed the mirror.

  She began to pivot away when something caught her eye. Leaning in closer as she tugged the skin on the side of her neck, a purplish, raspberry shaped bruise appeared on her dark skin. Flashes of Malcolm sucking on her neck penetrated her mind.

  Baffled, she scratched her head and noticed her nakedness. She remembered wearing her favorite unicorn pajamas last night. She couldn’t figure out why she didn’t have them on now.

  Olivia bolted from the bathroom, bare-bodied to the living room. The pajama top lay on the floor and the bottoms were on the sofa. Olivia gasped.

  “No. No. No.” Olivia snatched the phone from the coffee table and speed-dialed Malcolm’s number.

  “Hello?” Malcolm’s sleepy voice grunted through the phone.

  “Malcolm. Wake up.” Olivia ordered and yanked on the pajamas.

  “I’m awake. Whassup?” Malcolm yawned.

  “What happened last night?” The vividness of the dream gave her hope it wasn’t a reality.

  “Hold up. Let me go into the kitchen. Everybody’s still asleep,” Malcolm whispered.

  Olivia heard shuffling on the other end of the line. The sound of Malcolm’s footsteps and the closing of a door emanated through the phone before he spoke again. “I’m back.”

  “I have a hickey on my neck. I hope I pinched myself in my sleep. Is my mind playing tricks on me or did you come to my house last night?” Olivia paced the floor from the living room to the kitchen and back with the phone gripped to her ear.

  “Yes.” Malcolm didn’t offer any additional words.

  “Yes?” Olivia held her head with one hand in despair and stopped pacing. “I think I’m going through some type of mental disassociation or something. What happened?”

  “What do you mean what happened?” Malcolm whispered.

  Olivia’s fingers raked through her hair. “I had a nightmare about us having sex. Was it a dream, or did we…did we…?” Olivia couldn’t finish the question.

  “It wasn’t a dream and it definitely wasn’t a nightmare,” Malcolm confirmed with a chuckle.

  “How? What? Why? I’m confused right now. I’m supposed

  to be pissed off at you about everything.” Olivia sank into the sofa and massaged her pulsating temples.

  “It’s okay. We both were caught up in the moment. I think we’ve forgiven each other now,” Malcolm said in a lowered voice.

  Olivia began to recall the night. She shivered at what she’d assumed had been a dream. “Malcolm. What does this mean? We made love like we haven’t in years.”

  “Baby, you fell into a deep sleep in my arms like the old times. I had to carry you to bed and tuck you in.” Malcolm whispered even lower in a husky voice. “I didn’t want to wake you. I had to get home. You know?”

  Reality snuck into Olivia’s mind. “Oh, yeah. Mariah probably wondered where you were. Is she mad at you?”

  “Furious. She’d been trying to call me.”

  The familiarity of the scene based on her own experience flooded Olivia’s head. She knew how Mariah had to have felt last night. Waiting, calling, and not getting an answer.

  Olivia’s heart fluttered with the realization of the fact that without even trying, she’d achieved getting sweet revenge on Mariah for ruining their marriage. Malcolm had now cheated on his fiancée with his wife.

  “What excuse did you give her?” Olivia wanted Malcolm to share his tried and true response.

  “I told her I had to check on one of my boys who lost his job,” Malcolm whispered with what sounded like a twinge of pride about his slick lie.

  “Seems to come easy to you,” Olivia chided.

  “What do you mean?” Malcolm sounded confused.

  “Telling lies.”

  “Come on. You know I couldn’t tell her I stayed with you. She would’ve had a conniption and perhaps gone into early labor.”

  Olivia’s chest filled with dread. “The whole night is coming back to me. You said some things and I said some things. Malcolm, tell me the truth about what you revealed.”

  “What is it?” Malcolm asked.

  “When you said you belong to me and love me, were you telling me a lie? Or did you mean it?” Olivia held her breath.

  Malcolm waited to answer almost a beat too long. “Yes. I meant it. I belong to you and I still love you. I know I’ve messed up and caused a lot of damage. Believe me, those words were all the truth.”

  Tears sprang from her eyes and trickled along her cheeks. Hearing Malcolm declare this made her head spin. Olivia didn’t know what to do. “Malcolm? Could last night be the turning point we needed to save our marriage?”

  “It’s a new beginning for you and me.”

  “What happens now?”

  “Ouch,” Malcolm yelped. “Stop hitting me, Mariah.”

  Olivia heard a scuffle and a loud thump, which sounded like the phone landing on the ground. She made out a barrage of words in English and Spanish.

  “Why are you hiding in the pantry? I heard what you said,” Mariah screamed. “You belong to who? Who are you talking to about a new beginning? Who did you tell that you love them?”

  “I didn’t say anything lik
e that, Mariah.” Olivia heard Malcolm’s muffled voice as if he’d picked up the phone and covered the mouthpiece. “I told you to stop hitting me. Put the pot down.”

  Olivia covered her mouth with her hand. She pressed the phone closer to her ear to listen to everything.

  “Were you talking to her?” Mariah yelled.

  “Stop yelling. You’re going to wake up the kids.”

  “I don’t care. Were you talking to her?”

  “Who is her? What are you talking about? You must’ve been dreaming,” Malcolm said.

  Olivia heard another scuffle and it sounded like the phone dropped to the floor again. She heard someone breathing hard followed by Mariah’s voice. “Who is this?”

  “Mariah, give me my phone,” Malcolm demanded.

  “Who is this? Were you with my man last night?” Mariah yelled. “He doesn’t love you. He loves me. Do you hear me?”

  “Your man? How about the fact he’s still my husband?” Olivia let out a sinister laugh. “Heh, heh, heh. Now you get to suffer the same way I did. Are you stupid enough to believe he loves you? He put a Cracker Jack ring on your finger. Think again.”

  “I can’t believe you were with her. How could you do this to me? I’m carrying your baby,” Mariah screamed away from the phone. “You said you didn’t love her anymore.”

  “Mariah, relax before something happens and you go into labor. Give me back my phone.”

  “I hate you, Malcolm. You said you loved me.”

  Olivia heard more scuffling and what sounded like slaps on someone several times.

  “I told you to stop hitting me,” Malcolm ordered.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” Olivia heard what sounded like Simone’s voice. “What’s all the yelling about? Mariah, stop hitting my Dad.”

  “Simone, go back to your room. I’m okay. We’re having a discussion. Ouch.”

  “Stop hitting my Dad,” Simone cried out.