“I’ll be gentle,” he said, correctly guessing her fear at his size. “We’ll take our time, baby. Because this,” he said, gently grabbing his dick, “is for you, and only you. Are you sure you’re ready for it?” Alexis nodded. “Good.”
Toussaint gently took her hand and led her to the luxuriously appointed bathroom. He knelt in front of her, hooked his fingers on both sides of her thong, and pulled it down. He placed a tender kiss on Alexis’s flat stomach and another one in the small V-shaped patch of hair at the top of her heat. Cupping her buttocks, he buried his face in her scent, wanting to devour her. Reluctantly, he stood. “Let me wash you.”
They entered the oversized shower, and soon Toussaint and Alexis were covered in soap bubbles. Toussaint took the sponge and leisurely became acquainted with every inch of Alexis’s body. When he handed her the sponge, Alexis became shy, keeping her eyes away from the big black dick that kept poking her thigh as she washed his chest. When she turned him around to wash his back, her eyes quickly traveled down to his sculptured buttocks, which had two deep dimples just above his cheeks. His back was taut and strong, his shoulders wide, his legs long. All this is mine? Alexis swallowed and felt herself grow even more wet. She fairly tingled with excitement.
“Touch me.” Toussaint turned so that he and Alexis once again faced each other. Alexis looked into Toussaint’s eyes as she tentatively reached for his erection. She looked down at the beauty of it, the tip shaped like a perfect portobello, a large vein running the length of its underside. His dick was rested above a sac that was perfectly symmetrical and soft as silk to the touch. She looked up as she stroked him lightly. Toussaint sighed and closed his eyes as she lightly ran a finger over his tip.
“Unh-unh, eyes open, remember?” Alexis became emboldened then and wrapped her hand as far as she could around his shaft. Her fingers barely touched. Still stroking, she leaned into him and began placing whispery kisses on the broad chest lightly covered with springy black hair. He quickly lifted her chin, lowered his head, and scalded her with a kiss that was hungry, urgent, as he buried his hands in her locs and ground himself against her. “Now … I want you now,” he whispered. “I can’t wait any more.” He quickly turned off the water and carried her, wet and wanting, to the middle of the king-sized bed. Alexis closed her eyes as Toussaint immediately opened her legs and buried his head between them. She thought his assault would be ravenous, but he surprised her by licking her nub ever so lightly and then blowing air on the wetness.
“Ahhh …” Alexis hissed, grabbing the comforter with both hands, as if she needed to hold on for dear life. Toussaint kissed her thighs and then began licking her nub and inner folds as one would an ice-cream cone—slow, deliberate, rhythmic.
“You taste so good, baby,” Toussaint whispered as he widened her even farther and continued his assault. He looked up and stared into her eyes as he placed one, and then two fingers inside her. “You’re so wet….” He heightened her pleasure by tonguing her button while he probed for her sweet spot. Alexis’s deep moan and sustained shudder told him when he’d found it. “Yes, baby, let go. Hmmm.” Toussaint lapped her nectar, kissed her swollen nub, and rolled over. He held her tightly in his arms until she’d caught her breath. When her breathing slowed, he spoke. “Do you want to taste me?”
Alexis rose on shaky knees, still throbbing from Toussaint’s delicious lovemaking. She’d never been pleasured so thoroughly, and she wanted so much to give Toussaint the kind of delight she’d just experienced. She touched her tongue to his tip, then swirled it around the mushroom cap. Toussaint swiveled his hips and placed a light hand on the back of her head, encouraging her. Alexis opened her mouth wide and took in as much as she could, her saliva glistening on his shaft. With each moan, each thrust, she lavished more and more love on him, using both hands to rub and massage his massive member, from the base to the tip. In a totally intuitive move, she lowered her face to his balls and tickled them with the tip of her tongue. Later she would learn that this was one of Tou-ssaint’s most sensitive areas. His quick intake of breath suggested that she was on to something special.
It was enough. He had to have her now, had to make her his, and his alone. Toussaint rolled them over. He kissed Alexis slowly, deeply, once again placing a finger inside her. Using circular motions, he again brought her to the brink of climax, until he felt her love juices building, and she got wetter and wetter. He placed in another finger and gently widened her, preparing her for his girth, his length.
“Now,” Alexis whispered, surprising herself. “I want you, Toussaint. Please …”
“Okay, baby,” Toussaint replied as he reached for the colossal condom lying on the nightstand. He quickly rolled it on, and then, bracing himself on either side of her, sank down, slowly, beginning his dick’s long, slow, tortuously tantalizing journey to her core. After several moments, when he was fully inside her, he kissed her long and deep, waiting until she’d fully adjusted. Now, he knew, it was her turn to take over the dance, to move at her leisure. It didn’t take long. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, Alexis began moving her hips in a circular motion, mimicking the way Toussaint’s tongue moved in her mouth. She placed her hands on his buttocks and pressed, hard, before once again mimicking Toussaint’s earlier action and sliding a finger down the crevice of his ass.
This was almost his undoing. He rose up, slid out to the tip, and plunged back in, over and again. His eyes closed, and his mouth became slack in ecstasy. Alexis’s moans became soft whimpers. Mine. He pulled out and thrust again. This. Is. Mine. Toussaint turned her on her side and raised her leg. He couldn’t get deep enough, pound hard enough, squeeze her tight enough. But he tried. For the next two hours, and in more positions than even he knew existed, he tried to show Alexis St. Clair just what she meant to him. She tried to do the same. As the sky began to lighten, announcing the dawn of a new day, Toussaint and Alexis climaxed together, one final time, then fell asleep knowing one thing for sure: Their lives as they’d known them would never be the same.
47
“Are you Quintin Bright?”
“Who’s asking?”
Adam stepped closer to the man who was three to four inches taller than him. He’d purposely waited until his brother went to LA to make this visit. Like many twins, he and Ace shared an uncanny intuition. Adam was sure Ace would have sensed what he was about to do and talked him out of it. “The husband of the married woman you fucked—and gave a disease to—that’s who.”
Quintin crossed his arms, suddenly understanding why his assistant manager had shown this stranger to his office. This was definitely a confrontation best handled behind closed doors. He cast Adam a lazy smile, then walked over to a bench and casually sat down. “I think it’s more like she fucked me, man. That Candy …” He shook his head and let the sentence hang in the air. “Sorry about the clap, though, brothah. Did you get that taken care of, dog?”
“There’s only one dog in this office,” Adam snarled. “And if you ever come near my wife again, you’ll find out that my bite will be worse than your bark.”
“You don’t scare me, muthafucka. If you’d been taking care of business at home, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I can’t say I won’t miss Cotton Candy, with that soft, fat—”
Adam’s arm pressed against Quinton’s throat, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Adam had moved faster than he’d done in twenty years. He had thrown Q down on the bench, straddled him, and began to choke him before he’d realized it. Soon, two pairs of strong hands were lifting him off the man who was twenty years his junior. He jerked away from the assistant manager and personal trainer who’d heard the ruckus, and without another word, he turned and left.
Still breathing heavily, Adam settled into the driver’s seat of his roomy Mercedes. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper that way, had sworn he’d stay on the high road with that lowlife. But hearing him describe his wife’s anatomy made him snap. A part of Adam wished he’d gone toe-to-toe wi
th the young-blood and given him a good old-fashioned ass kicking, because then maybe his anger would be assuaged. As it was, he was still livid, Q’s cocky grin as Adam turned and left was etched in his mind. He sped away, heading for the office.
As Adam pulled into his reserved parking space, he reached for his phone. He flipped his finger through the list of names until it landed on one he’d programmed in but felt would never use. Soon he heard ringing, announcing that he only had seconds to change his mind. After a few moments, there would be no going back. Not that Adam would want to. His mind was made up.
“Jon Abernathy.”
“Jon. Adam Livingston.”
“Mr. Livingston? Wow, sir, to what do I owe the honor of hearing from one of our more esteemed citizens?”
“Ha!” Adam relaxed as he heard the son of a dear old friend pontificate like a pro. “Boy, you talk more shit than a sewer line. You’re an apple that didn’t fall far from the tree, God rest the soul of your father.”
“You know what they say about politicians. We call it like we see it and say it how it wants to be heard. But with you, my words are genuine. You’re building an empire—no small feat.”
“Trying to, but you’re right. It’s hard work trying to conquer the world.”
“Is that why you called, Adam? Need a little help to win the battle? Not that you’re not already well manned, with Malcolm at your right hand.” Jon didn’t care whether Adam noticed he hadn’t mentioned Toussaint, who he believed was responsible for Alexis’s short-term interest. Jon had felt she’d be the perfect woman at his side, another cover to keep tongues from wagging and his secret from getting out.
“No battles, per se, but I do want to run something by you, see if you can do me a favor. I’m coming to you in the strictest of confidences, you understand. Whatever is spoken during this conversation is between me and you. Do I have your word, on your father’s honor?”
“You have my word, Adam. What can I do for you?”
Adam repositioned himself and watched as a couple employees came out of the Livingston Group headquarters. One of them waved at him. He waved back. “What kind of contacts do you have with the state’s health department?”
“I can … take care of things when I need to. Is there a problem with one of your restaurants? Have you received a citation from the Board of Health?”
“No, my business is fine. It’s another business I’m concerned about. See, my wife used to go to a gym, over in Atlanta Central. That new one that just opened up last year, Q something or other.”
“Q’s Bodybuilding & Workout Center?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“I’ve been there a couple times. Popular place. Looks to be top-notch too.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving. I have reason to believe there are a number of serious code violations going on over there. The owner’s carelessness … jeopardized my family. My wife used to go there, and, I don’t want to go into detail, but let’s just say I think the place should be shut down.”
Jon, who’d been sitting behind his desk, now stood and paced his office. “Wow, I don’t know, Adam. That’s a tall order, to get the state officials to close a business. Of course, if the public’s safety is an issue, I can understand your cause for concern….”
“Our families go back a long way, Jon,” Adam said, his calm voice belying his rising anger. “That’s why I called you, why I feel I can count on you. The gym might look professional and well kept on the outside, but the things happening on the inside are not cool—in fact, they’re a detriment to society.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Adam? Is there some type of illicit activity happening over there?”
“There’s no telling what all is going on in that establishment, behind the scenes. I would breathe a deep sigh of satisfaction, and be eternally grateful, if I saw that place put out of business or closed down for several months. That would undoubtedly cause a financial strain, of course, but where public safety is concerned, a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.” Venom dripped, silent but deadly, from this last sentence.
Jon stopped midstride, aware of how Adam’s voice had changed. Something deep had happened between Adam and the gym owner. Jon was sure of it. And the more he listened, the more he felt he had an idea of just what had happened. “And you say that Candace was somehow affected by this situation, these … violations you suspect are happening?”
“My wife, my entire family, was affected, Jon. I just want to make sure this doesn’t happen to anybody else, at least not for a long time.”
Jon’s brow furrowed as he reached for his electronic Rolodex and began scrolling through names. He quickly came to the one he needed. “Let me see what I can do,” he said to Adam. “I’ll make a couple calls, pull in a favor or two. It might not happen immediately, and it might not be forever, but if you want things shaken up at Q’s Bodybuilding &Workout Center then a rumble is about to begin.”
48
Shyla settled into the backseat of the town car, her being in LA feeling somewhat unreal. Her smile was cunning as she remembered how easy it had been to get what she needed from Toussaint’s unsuspecting assistant. “The Ritz-Carlton,” she told the driver, scrolling through the notes feature on the iPhone for her reservation confirmation. She then reached for her briefcase and pulled out the copy of Toussaint’s itinerary that Monique had given her. Glancing at her watch, she scanned the day’s schedule. It included site visits to several shopping malls, lunch at Roscoe’s House of Chicken ‘n Waffles, afternoon meetings with commercial Realtors, and dinner at a restaurant near their hotel in Marina del Rey. Shyla thought about surprising Toussaint at the restaurant. After all, she and Diane worked closely together; Shyla knew for a fact that Diane valued her opinion. She’d even dropped a hint once that Shyla would get along well in the Livingston family. It was a comment that had been delivered in jest, when Diane had happened along a still-working Shyla well after nine p.m. Shyla had laughed along with Diane, as if taking her words lightly. But she’d viewed her words as prediction not pun, and she had never forgotten them.
No, Shyla, that wouldn’t be wise. She hadn’t been asked along on this business trip, and even though she’d used vacation days and her own money to fly here, her actions may be viewed as a usurping of authority instead of an ambitious climbing of the corporate ladder. Shyla decided it best to keep this visit a secret, between her and Toussaint alone. If he wanted to make her presence known—which he probably would after the night of love she had planned—then so be it. By then it would come off as his idea, her being there at his invitation. Ah, yes. Me, Toussaint, Ace, and Diane. “Sorry, Zoe, but your fantasy is over,” Shyla whispered. And my impromptu rendezvous is about to begin.
They arrived at the Ritz-Carlton. The driver hurried out to open Shyla’s door but was beaten to it by the doorman, who rushed to greet them. After paying the driver the fare and a generous tip, she walked confidently to the head concierge. Looking like money in a crisp, white Herve Leger dress and four-inch Burberrys, and carrying a matching bag, she reached the desk and flashed the boyishly handsome employee standing there a dazzling smile.
“Hello!” he gushed, his blue eyes sparkling. “Welcome to the Ritz-Carlton. How may I help you?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Shyla seductively replied, leaning over to reveal creamy, tanned orbs highlighted by a push-up bra. “See, I’m here to surprise my husband. It’s our one-year anniversary, but he was called away on this dastardly timed business trip.” She fixed her mouth into a perfect pout, knowing the fiery-red Lady Danger MAC lipstick showed off her lips to perfection.
“That’s too bad,” the young man said to her lips before his eyes dropped to her breasts.
“That’s how I feel,” Shyla cooed. “Especially since I got all waxed and plucked, ready to give him his … anniversary present.” Shyla reached into her bag and pulled out Toussaint’s itinerary, while discreetly showing the concierge the stack of crisp,
one-hundred-dollar bills folded inside. “According to the itinerary he gave me, he’s at dinner right now. But if I can get a strapping young man such as yourself to help me, I can sneak into his room and … be his dessert later.”
Laughter abounded as Toussaint, Ace, and Diane enjoyed the casual and comfortable ambiance of Aunt Kizzy’s Back Porch. They had just ordered a variety of themed dishes, such as Cousin Willie Mae’s Pork Chops and Miss Flossie’s Chicken and Dumplings, with sides of okra, collards, and macaroni and cheese.
“Now, aren’t you glad you came with us, baby?” Ace asked Diane as he leaned over to give her a kiss.
“Just don’t forget you promised me a trip to Tiffany tomorrow. That was the trade-off for me not going shopping with the girls.”
“I might join you on that trip to Tiffany,” Toussaint said casually, taking a swig of his ice-cold Red Stripe.
Diane jumped on the comment like white on rice, the opening she hadn’t even known she was looking for. “So tell us about this surprise guest, nephew, Miss Alexis St. Clair. Squiring you on a business trip? Sharing your suite? Now, I know it’s none of my business—”
“So why are you asking?” Ace interrupted.
“But what happened to you and Shyla? I thought wedding bells were following you two around.”
“You thought, or she led you to believe?” When Diane shrugged, Toussaint continued. “You don’t even have to answer. I know you like Shyla. Mama does too. And don’t get me wrong—she’s a smart, beautiful woman who’s good at her job. But there are no wedding bells in our future.”
All Up In My Business Page 19