If Only for Another Night

by Jaylin Rogers

  I parked my car on the parking lot where Jaylin lived. I saw him getting out at the same time and approached him.

  “I know it’s wrong of me to show up without calling,” I said. “But I had to see you.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, opening his arms to give me a hug. “It’s been a long day, anyway. And what a sight for sore eyes you are.”

  He always knew the right things to say to me. “Same here,” I said as we walked toward the elevator that would take us to his loft. “By the way, why haven’t you answered your phone all day? I tried to call you.”

  “Been busy, baby. That’s all.”

  Jaylin displayed a crooked smile. He knew what was in the works for him this evening, and the second we got on the elevator, he wasted no time pulling me into his arms. Leaving no breathing room between us, he tightened his arm around my waist then lowered it to my ass. He gave it a tight squeeze, and then dug underneath my short skirt to venture elsewhere. Thankfully for the both of us, I was wearing a thong. He slipped the crotch section aside with his finger, trying to sink it into my wetness.

  “No,” I said, backing away from him. “Not yet. You’re the one who needs this, more than me.”

  Jaylin didn’t put up a fuss. I dropped to my knees and started to unzip his pants. The hard hump that was already there made it difficult, but I was able to roll the zipper over his dick that had grown to new heights. I yanked his pants down to his knees, and licked my lips at his dick that plopped out long, thick and hard. His back was against the wall, and before I slipped his dick into my mouth, he hurried to remove his pants. He straddled his legs and held his full package close to my rosy-red lips.

  “Do your thing, baby. Proceed.”

  I opened my mouth wide and proceeded, as he’d told me. He pumped my mouth like it was a throbbing pussy. I used one hand to massage his sticky balls and the other hand I used in action with my mouth. His dick was very tasteful, and as his veins became more visible, I drove my mouth into overtime. He squirmed against the wall with bunches of my hair tightened in his hand.

  “You damn sure know how to relieve a man’s stress,” he said. “And there I was thinking aspirin would do the job.”

  I wanted to laugh, but couldn’t because my mouth was full. I kept bobbing my head, but when the doors to the elevator opened, I quickly pulled back and snapped my head to the side. On the other side was an older woman with wide eyes that looked as if they were about to break from her sockets. Again, I wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

  “The two of you have the right idea, but . . . but you’re doing it in the wrong place. I’m in a hurry. I need to get to my car.”

  I was so sure that Jaylin would know how to handle this, but he hadn’t said one word. I, however, took the initiative to settle this little setback.

  I stood and held on to his steel to keep it hard. My mouth was wet, so I licked my lips and smiled at the lady.

  “Sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re on our way up. You’re going down, and in a few more minutes, the elevator will return. I promise.”

  I hit the up button to make the elevator close. I could have sworn that the old woman called me a trifling bitch, but I didn’t have time for her right now. I resumed my business with Jaylin, and by the time we reached his floor, we were ripping each other’s clothes off. He pushed me against his door and ran kisses up and down my neck. One of my legs was hiked up while he grinded his hardness against me. My pussy throbbed. I wanted him to fuck me so badly, but unfortunately, he wrestled with the keys as he tried to unlock the door.

  Seconds later, the door busted wide open and slammed against the wall. Jaylin lifted my other leg and straddled me against his midsection. He carried me into his office, where there was a small desk that had many papers on top of it. In one swipe, he made the papers hit the floor and cleared the desk. He positioned his dick right at the crevasse of my cream-filled pocket and rolled it around. The sounds of my juices were like music to our ears. The melody came across loud and clear, especially when Jaylin slammed inside to make my cherry burst. I dropped my head back and looked up at the ceiling. Damn this man felt good inside of me. It was as if he was destined to be there. This was exactly what I wanted in my life, and I kept telling myself to hell with Chris. The way Jaylin was fucking the hell out of me, I would never let him go.

  With him holding my legs and straddling them far apart, we both kept our eyes focused on his insertions. His dick dripped wet from my fluids, and every time it disappeared in my hole, I gasped. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to holler and scream. Hell, I wanted to tell him how much I loved the way he fucked me, but I couldn’t say one word. My tongue was tied, especially when I turned my head to the right and saw my husband standing there. Jaylin was so engrossed into what had been transpiring between us that he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t witnessed the twisted look on Chris’ face, I did. His eyes were cold. His lips quivered and his fists were tightened. Me? I really didn’t care, because I was on the verge of an orgasm that was about to bring down the house. My screams would’ve done just that, but I couldn’t release one word. Nothing, because when Chris grunted, Jaylin’s thrusts had ceased. He followed the direction of my eyes, and that was when his eyes connected with Chris standing in the doorway. Almost immediately, Jaylin dropped my legs. He eased out of me, and as his dripping-wet dick stood at attention, all I could say to Chris was, “Sorry.”

  He didn’t say one word. All he did was raise his hand that carried a 9MM Glock pistol. Jaylin rushed to protect me, and when my husband pulled the trigger, the bullet whistled through the air and landed in the center of Jaylin’s chest, busting it wide open. He fell backwards and crashed on top of me as we both hit the floor. His bloody hands trembled over the wound to his chest, and as I watched him fight to catch his breath, I screamed at the top of my lungs. In a panic, Chris dropped the gun and tried to rush away. By then, I scrambled away from Jaylin and made my way to the gun. I didn’t think twice, before I pulled the trigger and let my husband have it. His body dropped right at the door, and I crawled back over to Jaylin with the phone in my hand. The 911 operator answered.

  “A friend of mine has been shot!” I shouted into the phone. “Please, please hurry! I don’t want him to die! If he does, I am one dead bitch! Please hurry!”

  I dropped the phone and continued to hold Jaylin in my arms. I added pressure to his chest, doing my best to slow down the bleeding. He was still alive, and I prayed like hell that the paramedics would get here soon. I felt horrible for putting him in this predicament, and even though I was in the right place, it was definitely the wrong time. Unfortunately for me, his breathing slowed . . .

  GO DEEPER SO I KNOW IT’S REAL

  Shelia B.

  Laughter surrounded us as we sat in the lobby of the new hotel we had transferred to, discussing a story we opted to write for a new book, If Only for Another Night. The story was supposed to revolve around Jaylin Rogers from Brenda Hampton’s Naughty Series. We definitely had something to work with, because we’d gotten to know Jaylin on a different level. In the past, we shared some of our personal business with him, vice versa. At first, I was hyped about writing my story, but then I thought about what an asshole Jaylin could be at times. I predicted that he would disapprove of my story, but a part of me didn’t care. The other problem I had was writer’s block. I hadn’t been able to complete a story in months. My publisher had been inquiring about my next manuscript, and I was trying my best to finish.

  If anything, I was exhausted. After arriving in Baltimore for a book signing with fellow author, Oasis, my other writing buddy and close friend and I had checked into a hotel that surely should have been sued for false advertising. We’d wanted to get a hotel close to the venue as possible. Since we’d be depending on someone else for transportation, we were trying to be cognizant of their time. It had turned out to be the biggest mistake of our trip.

  The red, dingy carpet looked to be stained with some kind of brown liquid as we made ou
r way down the hall to the elevator, which smelled like mold and mildew. While the room was clean, it says a lot about what we thought of the place, since my friend had sprayed our bed linen down with Lysol. We tried not to let it get us down too much, especially me. I’d gotten my flight cancelled and got to the hotel around midnight. It had been a long day for me so I tried not to complain too much and just be grateful for a safe flight.

  We did the first signing at the Essex County Library with no problems. While we didn’t have people lined up and down the entryway waiting to see us and get their books signed, we had a nice turn out. The people were fun and lively. They asked questions, some bought books, and at the end of the day, we were happy with the turn of events. What we weren’t happy about was going back to that hotel room.

  Needless to say, after a roach bigger than my hand chased me and my friend from our room, we called it quits and found a hotel better suited to our needs. The Hilton Baltimore near the BWI Airport was a much better option.

  So there we sat in the spacious and bright hotel lobby. The grey and cream linoleum flooring near the check-in desk was spotless. Square light fixtures hung from the ceiling. Grey, cream, and golden accessorized furniture matched wonderfully with the setting, giving the bar and sitting area a lounge type appeal. Fourplay’s “After the Dance” wafted through the air and I was all smiles. It felt good to be out of Georgia. And it felt even better to get a good laugh in with my friend.

  She was a beautiful woman. Golden skin with minimal makeup. Long auburn hair that cascaded midway down her back. Coffee colored eyes that sparkled, even when she wasn’t smiling. She was a full-figured diva who wore her clothes well and carried her weight just the same. Anytime she smiled or laughed she lit up the room. Today, she was dressed in all black. Wide-leg dress pants and a collared button-down blouse that accentuated her waist and breasts. Flat black shoes adorned her feet while the silver bangles, earrings, and necklace set her ensemble.

  Years ago, we’d met at the Book Expo of America, and she and I had formed a friendship. She had also been there for me when my whole world came tumbling down a little over a year ago. That was something I didn’t care to think about.

  “Shelia, you can’t pick out the hotel rooms no more, girl. Had us up in Hotel Hell,” my friend cajoled.

  I gave a hearty laugh. “Now you know you picked that place.”

  She gave a laugh of her own. “Whatever the case, we’re never going back. Don’t know what the hell they had going on up in there.”

  “The pictures online looked nothing like the actual thing. Then they had the nerve to boast free breakfast. It should’ve been free, especially since the cook was stocking Corn Flakes that were not even Kellogg’s.”

  “Shit looked like the Bates Motel. I expected Norma and Norman to come chasing us down the hall with Dylan standing at the other end trying to shoot us any minute,” she joked.

  The pictured she’d painted was a funny one and I couldn’t help but crack the hell up. We said a few more comical things about the place we’d chosen to stay. Laughed about the hookers we’d seen in the hall. One looked like RuPaul and the other Dennis Rodman. Suffice it to say, we were having a good laugh at our own expense. It wasn’t until her phone rang that we calmed down on the laughter.

  She picked up her phone and I glanced around a bit. Did some people watching to bide the time. Saw a drunk white man feeling his wife or girlfriend up as they stumbled toward the elevator. Looked over and saw a group of Ques downing shots. Knew they were Ques because of the branded symbol on their biceps. Murmurs of talking, giggling, and raucous laughter lit up the area. It didn’t bother me though. As long as I was out of that other hotel, I was fine.

  “She’s sitting right here,” I heard my friend say.

  I turned my attention back to her and whispered, “Who’s that?”

  She just smiled then shook her head. “Bye,” she said to whomever was on the phone. “I’m not fooling with you and I’m not telling her that,” she fussed.

  She moved the phone from her ear, tapped the screen to end the call then looked over at me.

  I asked again, “Who was that?”

  “Your other friend,” she answered then picked up her drink to take a sip.

  I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess . . . Jaylin?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  I was curious. “What could he possibly want you to tell me?”

  She licked her lips as she laughed. “You know how many times he’s invited you to his house and you keep turning that man down.”

  “Oh, God, here we go. He still isn’t used to a woman telling him no I see,” I quipped.

  “He said you can kiss his ass and he won’t be inviting you again.”

  I flipped my hand. “He’ll be okay.”

  “You know you pissed that man off, Shelia.”

  I shrugged nonchalantly and took a sip of my dirty Martini.

  “I’m almost certain Jaylin isn’t fazed by me not taking up his invitation for a visit.”

  Her brows furrowed and she cast a look at me that said she didn’t understand the method to my madness.

  “I mean, why say no, Shelia? Last time he came to Atlanta, I heard you two became very acquainted with one another.”

  “Lies. All lies. Don’t believe none of it.”

  She laughed heartily. “Yeah, okay. You still don’t have to keep turning that man down like that.”

  Sometime during our banter, a few of the Ques came over and introduced themselves. They were all cute in some way, but because I had no interest in having one-night stands or having interludes with married men, their flirting was useless. Still, it was fun to have them try to convince me and my friend to come party with them. The whole time they were there, all I could keep thinking about was how many times I’d turned down Jaylin’s invite to come to his house whenever I was in St. Louis.

  I knew it seemed like a silly thing, especially since the last time I saw him in Atlanta, he and I did have a pretty interesting time. He’d been interested in purchasing property there. At the time, a time when Jaylin’s World was alive and well on Facebook, I wasn’t even sure the man was real. Then, one day, he showed up just as he told me he would. After picking my face up from the floor, I was his chauffeur for the day. Drove him to various meetings for his house hunting then, eventually, we ended up in his hotel room.

  That was disastrous at first. From throwing insults to throwing drinks in each other’s faces, it was all bad. That was until he introduced me to nine inches of pleasure and the sixty-nine ways he could give it to me. Shit, at that time, what he was giving me was needed. I was going through a rough patch in my marriage and he was a welcomed distraction. He knew it too. So I assumed what he’d given me was a pity fuck. Please hold the judgments.

  As the night progressed, the Ques gave up since neither my friend nor I were budging. We ordered ourselves a round of wings and fries. Everything was going well, even with her texting on her phone most of the time.

  “Still talking to Jaylin?” I asked after the bartender had taken our plates.

  She chuckled and said, “I’m talking. He’s cursing me out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s an asshole.”

  There was something akin to humor in her eyes as she spoke. There was also a slick smirk on her lips.

  “When’s the last time you seen Jaylin?”

  “You know it’s been a while since I’ve seen him. He’s been in one of his moods lately.”

  “Still the same Jaylin.”

  “Girl, yeah. Nothing has changed.”

  A devilish thought formed in my mind. It brought a huge grin to my face.

  “What, Shelia?” she said. “Spill it.”

  “Nothing. Just wondering how you let all that go.”

  She knew what I was talking about. I suspected that she and Jaylin had been something like a couple at one time or another. But I felt as if she had been keeping their past a secret because she was married.


  “I never had it to let go. Besides, I’m married.”

  I shrugged. “And?”

  She frowned and moved around in her seat like she was getting uncomfortable.

  “And, I’m not trying to go there with Jaylin.”

  “Again?”

  “You know what, Shelia, I’m not doing this with you tonight.”

  “Well, yeah, because I’m not Jaylin,” I cajoled.

  She laughed, but didn’t comment further on what I’d said.

  “You will not get me to walk into that snare.” I was about to say something snarky, but she kept talking. “And you need to worry about what story you’re going to submit for this new If Only for Another Night book.”

  “I have nothing else to write about. As a matter of fact, I decided that I don’t want to even plague my mind with thoughts of that man.”

  She glanced behind me, probably looking over at the rest of the Ques making all the noise behind us.

  “Damn, why?”

  I shrugged. “I just don’t. Tackling Jaylin is like trying to tackle a giant at the fifty yard line. You either get him or you don’t. You either play by his rules or he won’t let you play. And quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to stomach anymore of his arrogance than I have to.”

  “You know he’s going to be looking for a story from you, Shelia.”

  “Well, you can tell him to kiss my ass, because I ain’t gon’ do it.”

  She cleared her throat and then averted her eyes before they settled back behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The women at the bar and the ones in my immediate vicinity all seemed to turn in my direction. Judging by the hungry looks in their eyes, something or someone had captured their attention. I considered myself a pretty smart person so it didn’t take much for me to figure out someone was behind me. Judging by how the women in the place had started to all but gravitate in my general direction, it was safe to assume I knew who was behind me, too.