Don’t Ever Wonder

by Darren Coleman

  When she finished, Nate and I sat silent, not knowing what to say in response. Finally Nate came out with, “How about another bottle?”

  “No doubt,” Renée answered. A few moments later our next bottle arrived and when Nate pulled out a wad of cash the waitress said that the bottle was paid for already.

  I was puzzled and Nate said, “By who?”

  “By me,” came a voice from behind me. Emerging from her posse was Shawn Simmons.

  “Omigod,” Renée shouted. She was tipsy and she began rocking back and forth in excitement. Renée was wearing a pink spaghetti-strapped dress and when she leaned forward I noticed that it looked like one her breasts was going to fall out the top of it. I grabbed her leg to calm her and noticed that Shawn Simmons was staring and looked as though she was lying in wait.

  “Long time no hear from,” Shawn said as she smirked at Nate.

  “Yeah, it has been…a long time, that is.” Nate looked over at me and Renée. “Let me introduce you to my friends. This is Cory and Renée.” We extended our hands and shook as he said, “Cory and Renée, this, of course, is Shawn Simmons.”

  “We know who the hell it is,” Renée blasted him as she stood up. “It is so nice to meet you. I love your music. I have both of your CDs and the ones from when you were with Plain Jane.”

  “Thanks.” She flashed a genuine smile. “So you guys look like you’re having a good time.” She pointed to the empty bottles. “Mind if I join you for a bit?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  Renée joined in with, “Please do.”

  Nate coolly slid over on the love seat and made room for her. She was looking every bit the star she was. She was wearing a white silk dress that stopped mid-thigh with a slit on the side of it that rose completely to her hip. When she crossed her legs, revealing the side of her tanned thighs, I felt a rush wash through me. Nate seemed almost too cool to be sitting next to one of the hottest female singers in the industry. His demeanor hardly changed, I figured because he’d had her already.

  When the deejay played Shawn’s latest hit, a duet featuring the once-retired Ma$e, everyone hopped to the floor. Renée grabbed her glass with one hand and my hand with the other. “C’mon, Cory, let’s dance.”

  I followed her to the floor and we moved around to the beat like the two drunk fools we were. Twenty minutes later and we were still dancing. It felt good to move around as the boat cruised along. I was sweating a little and Renée wiped the beads from my head with a hand and a smile. She surprised me by being a better dancer than I remembered, but she shocked me when she turned her back to me, grinding it against my crotch as they played Lil’ Jon’s “Get Low.”

  Nate never made it to the dance floor. He stayed behind with Shawn and that was the last I saw of him. When the boat docked we came to a stop and the lights came on. As the crowd moved toward the exit, I tried to locate him in the crowd. I tried his cell six times before Renée and I left the parking lot in my car.

  “Don’t worry about him,” she smiled. “He’s a big boy.”

  I laughed as we cruised out of the harbor. “Yeah, I know that. But he was doing so well. He had really turned over a new leaf. Stopped all the womanizing and everything. I just hate to see him backslide.”

  Unconvinced, she looked at me. “Uh-huh.”

  “Uh-huh what?”

  “I think someone might be a little jealous.”

  “What. Jealous of what?”

  “Of you know what. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Renée laughed. She was still feeling the alcohol. I was still buzzing too and laughed right back.

  “A’ight. A nigga might be a little jealous.” I laughed again and we cruised on down the Parkway. The laughter felt good, and effortless. There was nothing heavy on our minds, signaling the evening had been a success.

  I woke up and looked at the clock; it was seven thirty. My full bladder had been my alarm clock and I climbed out of bed. The air conditioner had been blowing all night and the cold air was a shock to my naked body. I looked at my face as I passed the mirror on the way to the toilet. I took a long leak and thought about the night’s events. The party had been nice and a real celebration to Brendan’s recovery, even though he couldn’t attend. I began to wonder how long it would take for him to completely recover and for us all to be able to hang out like old times.

  I flushed and washed my hands and ran them over my face. Eyes still a little puffy from too much drinking and not enough sleep. I took a quick swish of mouthwash to combat the morning breath and moved back into my bedroom. I slid back into the warmth of the bed and when I did, Renée turned over and looked at me.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She yawned and replied, “It’s all right. I need to get up anyway. I have an appointment today at Abada Hair Studio.”

  “Your hair looks like you just got it done.” I smiled.

  “Boy, please. This do is two weeks old. I will be in the chair at ten getting right. That’s one thing I missed while in Houston. There’s something about the way the sistahs do hair here in D.C., especially Amani, my stylist.” I nodded my head. She went on. “What about you? What are you going to do today?”

  Her stylist shared the same name as my daughter and it got me thinking that I needed to see her. I hadn’t pressed the issue since asking Shelly for a divorce. But simply hearing the name sparked my desire and the decision was made instantly.

  “Well, actually, I have to go New York and get the last of my things from my office and apartment and close out a couple of other things there. I was going to wait until Monday, but I have a meeting back here so I figured I’d just go ahead and get it over with. Plus I would have the whole day to spend with my daughter tomorrow.”

  “So how is that going? It has to be hard adjusting.”

  “That’s an understatement. But honestly, I think that Amani and I have connected, or at least we had.”

  Renée’s sentiments were hard to read. I waited for her to bring up what had happened between us. When she didn’t after some more small talk I leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. “Thanks,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For last night. I had a good time hanging out with you and Nate. And somehow you knew I didn’t want to be alone last night.”

  I did sense it. On the way home I picked up her subtle flirting. It had been muggy outside and with the air blowing from the car vents straight onto her chest, I had noticed her nipples hardening. She kept leaning over toward me to change CDs and before I knew it I was aroused. It felt sort of taboo. We’d known each other forever it seemed. We’d even slept in the same bed before one night after a party during Howard U’s homecoming, but hadn’t had sex. Of course, that had been our little secret.

  The tension was there but after everything that had happened over the past couple of years, neither of us could have expected that anything would happen like this. “You know what?”

  “What?” she responded.

  “I didn’t want to be alone either.” With that I climbed on top of her and with a free hand I reached into the nightstand.

  I began softly kissing her neck. “Boy, we are wrong for this you know,” she whispered and followed with a chuckle. “Plus you’re married.”

  “Separated.”

  “Whatever,” she moaned. “Oh, man, that feels nice.”

  My hands were all over her. She grabbed them and wrestled me over onto my back. “Here,” I handed her the condom.

  She tore it open and while she stroked my dick, she playfully said, “You’re just using me.”

  “True.” She reached down and pinched my nipple when I said that. “Ouch.”

  “That’s what you get.” She straddled me. “But it’s all good because I’m just using you too.” With that she eased her bottom down onto my thighs. I slipped into her and she humped me like she was on a mission. There was something supremely erotic about the way Renée made love. She made me feel as if she was goi
ng to explode with every stroke. Her nipples jutted off her chest and she whimpered like a baby.

  While we screwed I thought about her being with Brendan and wondered how he would feel if he knew what she and I were doing. I wondered if she cared. She had her hand on her clit rubbing it while she rode me. Renée was a nice girl, the kind you could take home to your mother, but here she was on top of me after being with my best friend just a year earlier.

  “Oh, Cory, I feel it. It’s in my stomach.” She began to buck while her hands were doing more work than I was. “Oh sheeeeiiiiit.”

  My whole pelvic region was wet. She began rubbing my chest and my mind drifted from all the thoughts and clarity that the morning after brings. Now I was beginning to focus on my own orgasm, and my dick grew harder inside of her. Within moments we had both zoned out and we were in a place where no thoughts or emotions existed. No guilt or second guesses. We were just using one another’s bodies to get some stress off.

  She slammed down on me and it felt as though I hit her G-spot. She screamed out and began to pant in short spurts. Right then and there I began to involuntarily lift my hips from the bed as I filled the condom up and collapsed with an, “Ohhhhhhhhhhh dammmmn.”

  For a couple moments we lay still taking in the gravity of what we’d just done. After the silent stares we broke into smiles that gave way to laughter. We were grown. Then she spoke.

  “Nigga, you know you took advantage of me.”

  I laughed again. “Shit. You know you used a brother for his body.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Maybe so,” and then she covered her eyes and ran them through her hair before continuing, “but thanks, I needed that.”

  After her shower she walked out of the bathroom and grabbed her clothes. She was dressed in ten minutes. I walked her to the door and we parted with a hug and words from her that I know she meant. “Take this to your grave, your hear me?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  She pointed a finger in my face. “No telling Nate, Dee, or anyone else. I’m serious.”

  “I feel you.”

  She kissed me on the cheek. “Cory, you’re a sweetheart. It was beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m not finished,” she said. “I enjoyed it. I really did, but this can never happen again. Never. You understand? I still love Brendan, though, even if he and I never work it out. I would never want to hurt him…at least not the way he hurt me. You got me?”

  “No doubt,” I shot back because I understood.

  With that she walked out the door as if we’d done nothing more than chitchat. I was glad that she appeared to be okay with it. I got up and packed for my trip up to New York, hoping that everything would go smoothly. Though we had hardly spoken, I knew I would have to face Shelly’s rants when I saw her. I started to call Nate to see if he’d ride with me and run interference. Recalling Shelly’s temper, I knew if she had something to say, it wouldn’t have mattered if the pope showed up with me, she would have her piece.

  21

  Now…for the Moment You’ve Been Waiting For

  Nate had yet to entertain anyone in his brand-new U Street condo. Shawn Simmons would be the first. Though when he’d had Jewel Green, one of D.C.’s top interior decorators, put her skills to work on it, he had hoped it would be Anita Lawson whom he would christen his four-hundred-thousand-dollar, two-bedroom condo with. Shawn would have to do instead.

  Shawn had ditched her security and rode back from the party with Nate. She’d been impressed with his Porsche Cayenne. She’d owned one the previous year. Once she had seen his place, though, she was taken aback. The living room was furnished with furniture that was imported from Fiji. Her mouth dropped open when she noticed the stainless steel Viking appliances. His kitchen was immaculate and the dining room looked like something out of a model home. Nate hit a button and the electric blinds slid down, a second button and Amel Larrieux’s CD came on.

  She had taken her sandals off at the door and the feel of the plush white carpet between her toes made her coochie wet.

  “Your place is phat, man. Can I look around?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  Shawn looked into the guest bedroom, which was furnished with a cherry-oak sleigh bed, a customized aquarium, and a red mural painted on the wall. There was a fifty-five-inch plasma screen in there that paled only slightly in size to the one in the living room. She wondered who did his decorating because it was incredible. Each room was color-coordinated to a tee. When she reached his master bedroom she screamed “Wow.”

  She noticed the one wall that was completely glass, overlooking the street below. The moonlight was shining into the room and she could make out the furnishings. She moved toward the bed and Nate was standing behind her. She plopped down onto it and let out an “Ahhhhhh. This bed feels so good.”

  “It’s a Vi-Spring, there isn’t a better one in the world. Be careful, you may not want to ever get out.” Nate laughed.

  “And maybe I won’t.” She motioned her finger for Nate to come to her. It was just like old times. Most men dreamed of the opportunity to even catch a glimpse of a star like Shawn. Nate had never pursued her and it made him all the more mysterious and desirable to her. She was used to rappers, actors, and moguls going all-out to spend time with her. Nate had never even cared enough to lock her number into his phone.

  Ten minutes later and they were in the mix. Shawn was completely naked, trying her best to sound sexy as she moaned and gyrated. Nate, on the other hand, was going through the motions trying to bring the player inside of him back to life, but he was having a problem. He couldn’t stop thinking of Anita.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Shawn was asking while pulling on his manhood.

  “Not sure,” he answered. He wasn’t. He had never had a problem like this before.

  “I’m not turning you on?” she asked seductively before taking him into her mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to get into her but he couldn’t. He felt nothing for her and as far as the sensations went, there was nothing at all. All he could see was Anita.

  He pulled away and said, “Listen, sweetie, I’m sorry about this.” Then he said the unthinkable. “I’m in love with someone.”

  There was silence as Shawn took in what he’d said. She drew a blank look and replied, “So what. Does that mean we can’t fuck?”

  Nate shook his head in disgust. “Let me just take you back to your room. Where are you staying?”

  “What,” she yelled out. Shawn couldn’t believe her ears. Was she being rejected? “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She stood up and it was apparent that she was about to throw a temper tantrum. “Where are you staying?” Nate repeated.

  “At the Capital Hilton, but why does it matter? I’m not leaving here without getting what I want.”

  Nate was stunned by her behavior. “Shawn, come on now, you can call up anyone you want and get laid, don’t make a big deal over this.”

  “Don’t make a big deal? You got to be kidding me. You sound like the bitch. Now you got me naked up here in your crib, pussy dripping wet, and you want to send me home?” She shook her head. “Oh hellllll nooo.”

  Nate began to wonder if she was serious. “So what are you gonna do, Shawn, rape me?” He laughed at her.

  Disgusted and humiliated, she screamed, “Fuck this. Nobody tells me no. I got something for your ass, Negro. You just be ready to turn yourself in tomorrow.”

  “That’s cool,” Nate said. “So you would do some foul shit like cry rape on a brother?”

  She folded her arms. “You got-damned right. If I don’t get what I want, there’s gonna be hell to pay. Plus, who you think the cops are gonna believe? I got a nigga in Miami sitting in jail right now just for pissing me off, doing three on an eight-year bid. All that nigga did was eat my pussy all night long. But he got cute and wanted to start fucking with that bitch, Nia Harvey.” Nia, who had a similar-sounding voice to hers, was being called a younge
r version of Shawn Simmons. Subsequently, she’d become Shawn’s top rival in the industry. “Now you fuck with me and see what happens.”

  Nate laughed hard for a couple seconds and then stopped suddenly. He walked over toward Shawn and shouted, “You better get the hell outta my house, you crazy bitch. I’m calling you a cab and you’ll be all right.”

  “You obviously didn’t hear me.”

  “Oh, I heard you. Loud and clear. It’s just that I don’t play like that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I have a state-of-the-art surveillance system that will show that I didn’t rape you; as a matter of fact, it will show that you suck a mean dick or at least you try.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  Five minutes later and Shawn was in tears, riding in a cab headed back to her hotel, all thoughts of false accusations gone from her mind. Her only concern was that she didn’t wind up with her name linked to a sex scandal like Paris Hilton. However, on the way out of the building, she began to welcome the thought of some free publicity.

  Nate, although still a little tense from the exchange, began thinking about Anita again. He was relieved that he been able to convince Shawn that he had her on tape. He decided then and there that he was going to actually have a security camera installed.

  He waited until the last of the congregation had filed out of the church after the early morning service. Nate knew the schedule by rote from all the work he’d put in. By nine thirty the church and the altar would be empty, and by ten thirty the people piling in for the next service would begin to arrive. Just when he knew she’d be there, Nate walked up behind Anita. Just as she did every Sunday, she was organizing her husband’s note cards, putting them back in order.

  She thought she was alone in the pulpit but then she felt someone’s presence. When she turned around and saw Nate standing there her heart dropped and she gasped. “Nate, what are you doing here?”