Diluted Desire
Page 3
“I was so stupid,” she mumbled.
Trey turned to her with a grin. “Change your mind already?”
“Hell no!”
“Oh you will,” he vowed before turning back to his packing. “I’m taking my Xbox,” Trey announced.
Summer giggled at the absurdity. She had bought him the game last year for Christmas. “Take it Boo and please enjoy it.”
“You’re a crazy bitch,” he shot out before racing from the bedroom. Summer was on his heels. She leaned against the doorjamb while he disconnected his game, snatched up the cartridges and nodded to Fresh Man. It took them two trips to get everything out, the final time he came up; he flung the keys at her before running out the door.
“You really are a punk ass,” she said before plucking the keys off the floor. “I’ll have the locks changed tomorrow.”
“I just told him to move out,” Summer announced, her hands still shaking from the rush of emotions. She clutched her phone.
“Hallelujah,” Yvette shouted. “What happened?”
“Tonight was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was just tired of him. I came home to find dirty dishes in the sink, and him and Fresh Man playing video games. It finally hit me that he has no ambition, he has no fucking problem mooching off me and he’d keep doing for as long as I let him.”
“I’m glad that you finally saw him for the loser he was.”
“I didn’t want to give up on him,” Summer said quietly.
“I understand, believe me I do, I’ve had my fair share of Treys. But at the end of the day they have to man up, we can’t keep carrying them, at least I can’t, my back is tired,” she said and Summer laughed.
“You’re right, I guess I feel a little guilty, it was all of a sudden, but I did offer to let him stay until the end of the month.”
“Don’t worry yourself about it, it was time for him to leave and hopefully one day, he’ll realize it. Now you can get at your fine ass boss.”
“I don’t know why everybody thinks I want him, but I don’t,” Summer protested.
“Yes you do. If he even crooked his finger at you, you’d go running to him, while almost tripping over your thongs down around your ankles.”
“That is so not true,” Summer retorted.
“Listen, straight up, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that you’re attracted to him. He’s fine, if you like those pretty boy types. But I know you, you’re gonna admire him from afar, and I know you’re not gonna do anything to jeopardize his marriage. So have your crush, because that’s all you’re gonna have for a while, because it’s tough out here, these men are crazy.”
“I’m not even worried about that, I’m not interested in dating anyone and since the holidays are coming up, we’re gonna be super busy at the bakery.”
“Hey you’d better not be too busy to hang out with me. I want to go to some parties and since you’re a free lady…”
“Okay that sounds like fun just let me know so that I can make sure I have the time off. Talk to you later.”
She clicked off her phone and for the first time in years, she felt light. At that moment Summer realized that Trey had been a burden on her, now with him gone she felt lighter. And the constant simmering anger she had whenever she thought about him, was gone, all she felt was sadness.
Chapter 4
Violet glanced at her husband. Clint was snoring softly. She had come to bed naked, a green light for sex. But when Clint had slid in beside her, he had pecked her on the forehead and promptly went to sleep. That was hours ago, she had long since pulled on a pair of flannel pajamas, Clint hated them, but they kept her toasty.
“You have to be sleeping with someone,” she hissed angrily at her sleeping husband and Clint snored on. He slept hard, he could sleep through anything, a car could crash into their house and he wouldn’t budge. “We haven’t made love in months, and after I practically threw myself at you tonight you ignore me. You definitely must be getting it somewhere else.” The pain of Clint’s affair had never left; it dimmed a little then flared at times, causing her indescribable pain that pierced her heart. When her first husband had cheated on her, she had told herself that she wouldn’t stand for it in her second marriage; she’d divorce him before being lied to again. But when Clint broke their marriage vows, she found herself eating her words.
Violet studied his sleeping form, his strong, muscular body. She impulsively reached out to stroke his bare back, but just as quickly changed her mind and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Violet searched her mind for a happier time with Clint and as usual their first meeting immediately came to mind. They had met at a club. She and a bunch of her girlfriends had gone out to get her drunk because she had just broken up with her boyfriend. Newly married and happily so, Althea had drank non-alcoholic beverages that night and assigned herself as the designated driver.
He had caught her eye on the dance floor; he had danced for five songs straight. When he had stepped off the floor, his dance partner looked like she wanted something more but he had quickly dismissed her before sauntering over to the bar. Without hesitating, Violet had boldly walked up to him and offered to buy him a drink. Normally, she would have been too intimidated to approach him, because of his good looks, but because she was drunk and had her girls egging her on, she went for it.
She had lost herself in his hazel eyes. Despite the fact that it was dangerous as hell, she had left the club with him that night and slept with him. When they had gotten married; he had moved into her four-bedroom home. Violet sadly shook her head. “We were so happy then. I slept on your cheating ass before, I won’t do it again.” She clicked off the light and settled under the down comforter. “I’ll think of something and bust your cheating ass.”
The next morning, while she and Althea were jogging, Violet got an idea on how she could find out if Clint was cheating. She didn’t dare confide in Althea because she knew that her friend would never approve. She could barely contain her excitement, and after their run she had raced off, blaming an early morning meeting.
She wanted to place a posting on the Internet. She decided against a private investigator because while she was sure Clint was cheating, she didn’t trust them. She had used one in the past and he turned out to be worthless. The one she had hired to follow her first husband overcharged her and told her that her husband wasn’t cheating. It wasn’t until his mistress had called her and admitted to cheating with her husband for months, did she file for divorce. At that point she was too upset to sue the investigator for negligence.
Violet hurried home and even before she showered she pulled out her iPad. She had heard about brandislist.com as the place to go.
Fortunately, Clint had long since gone to Sugah Cakes, she had the house to herself. With an energy drink nearby, Violet created an account and began penning her posting. Thirty minutes later, she re-read the draft.
Beautiful Lady Needed to Seduce my Husband
I need your help, my husband is cheating on me; but I can’t catch his lying ass. I am looking for a beautiful lady to seduce him. You must be willing to sleep with him and take pictures or videos of your lovemaking. The lucky lady will be compensated for clothing, travel and food. You must be available 24/7, no exceptions.
If you think you are a seductress and can get my husband into bed, please contact me. Please send me full body shots of you clothed and unclothed, no picture no reply.
“I think this will do it,” she murmured, before clicking the submit button. “I’m going to catch his cheating ass.”
Chapter 5
Larkin Spain rolled over in bed, she sat up and stretched, her fire-red hair spilling over her shoulders. This month it was red, next month it might be black, blonde or even curly, it really depended on her mood. It was early afternoon and she was just getting up, which was understandable since she had gotten in at seven o’clock in the morning.
Larkin reached for her morning pick-me-up, a five-hour energy drink.
She padded to the bathroom. She had been living with Marcel for only six months but she had made herself at home. She had become immune to the opulence that surrounded her. The six-bedroom mansion was luxurious; each room was filled with antiques that cost more than her parents’ home.
She and Marcel had met at a wine tasting; a friend had given her a copy of the confidential guest list for the exclusive event. After studying it and doing her research, she had set her sights on several prospects and manufactured meetings with them all, Marcel was the only one who was interested in her. She pretended not to know who he was or that he was married. He was so smitten with her, that he had kicked his wife, of seven years, and their children, out of their mansion and moved her in.
Before she started her toilette, she called the chef and ordered her lunch, a chef salad. She wanted something light, she and Marcel had a gala to go to later on and she wanted to save her appetite for that. Larkin hummed happily to herself as she showered. Her life had definitely taken a turn for the better when she hooked up with Marcel. Larkin went silent for a moment when she thought about her life six months ago when she was living with, Juke an aspiring rapper, who could barely keep a job, but he looked good and could fuck. But when he got high he turned mean, he liked to hit and he had big fists.
So when Marcel had asked her to move in with him she had jumped at the chance. Even though she had to sneak out while Juke was at one of his short-term jobs and she had to leave a lot of her clothing behind, she was fine with that because she knew that the replacements were going to be one hundred percent better. And they were. When she arrived at Marcel’s doorstep with one garbage bag full of her clothes, he had taken her shopping the next day and gotten her everything she wanted.
Larkin began humming again as she dried off, then slipped into her matching designer bra and panty set. She strolled into the bedroom, her ass jiggling; she had the body that men and women coveted. Not only did she have the Coke bottle shape, but the big ass as well. She pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a cardigan, leaving several buttons open, allowing her breasts to pop out. Larkin slipped into a pair of flip flops and meandered down the stairs.
The staff hated her; they blamed her for breaking up Marcel’s family. They weren’t too mean, they didn’t want to get fired, but they were disrespectful just enough to let her know that they didn’t like her, and that if she complained; she would look like the petty one.
She passed two housekeepers and they both stopped their cleaning to nod curtly at her before resuming their work, Larkin smiled smugly at them. You work for me, bitches. Her cell phone buzzed, it was her stylist texting her that he’ll be there in two hours. Her hair stylist texted her a few minutes later telling her that she was on her way and would be at the mansion in an hour or two, she had to make some stops along the way.
Her salad was waiting for her in the kitchen, along with a cup of green tea. The chef was nowhere in sight. She picked up the tray and made her way to the media room. The room was small compared to others and Marcel had plans to renovate it once the season ended. But Larkin thought it was huge, with its fifty-five inch screen TV, and eight leather chairs, it was like having her own theater. She settled into a leather chair, clicked on Judge Judy and dug into her salad.
An hour later, while on her second episode of Judge Joe Brown, Marcel walked into the room, she immediately jumped up and raced to him.
“Hey baby! How was practice?” she asked, while rubbing against him.
“It was okay,” he responded curtly before stepping away from her. Larkin moved forward and pressed against him a second time. Marcel backed up and when he saw Larkin coming toward him again, he raised a hand, stopping her. “Stop!” She swatted it away.
“What’s wrong baby, I was just trying to say hi.”
“Well hey. Let’s go sit down; I need to talk to you.” Marcel turned on his heels and without seeing if she was following, he headed toward the one lone sofa in the room.
“What do you want to talk about?” Larkin asked.
Marcel didn’t stop walking. “Didn’t I just ask you to come sit down?” he asked irritated.
Larkin crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to,” she announced.
Marcel stopped and faced her, he shrugged. “I was trying to be civilized about this, but you need to leave, I’m getting back together with my wife,” he announced abruptly, then continued to the couch, he sat down and waited for her.
A surge of fear hit Larkin, she raced after him. “What are you talking about?” she stuttered before sitting down beside him.
“She’ll be here in a couple hours. That’ll give you enough time to pack up all your stuff.”
“Baby, but why?”
“I made a mistake, okay. I want to reconcile with the mother of my children, I want a family. I’m tired of hanging out in the clubs and partying. I don’t want my kids to see me like that.”
“Oh, I see. We can join a church, become more respectable. You can increase your appearances with your foundation. Christmas is coming up, you can give out a bunch of toys and food to poor kids,” she said earnestly.
“I am gonna do all that stuff…but with my family,” he said firmly. “And I want you to leave.” He watched as the switch came on and she realized that he was serious and he wasn’t going to change his mind.
“You’re kicking me out? I thought you didn’t love your wife?”
Marcel shrugged. “I thought I didn’t, but the marriage counselor said that I was just overwhelmed with marriage and that I needed some type of escape.”
“Marriage counselor! How long have you two been going to counseling?” she spat and Marcel looked chagrined.
“A couple of months,” he admitted.
“Does she know about me?”
“Of course she does!”
“And she still wants you back?”
“Yeah.”
Larkin placed her hands on her hips. “What is this really about? I know that you don’t love her so why get back with her?”
“I do love her,” he said. “But it’s not the exciting, tearing my clothes off kind of love, that type of love is good for a minute, but eventually it burns out. I don’t expect you to understand,” he said. “But our love is always smoldering, lasting a lifetime.”
“Oh how sweet,” Larkin drawled. “I’ll see it when I believe it. I bet you ten thousand dollars that you have somebody else in six months. But this time you’ll stay with your wife and keep everything on the down low.”
“You crazy bitch.” He looked down at his diamond encrusted Rolex. “You’d better hurry up; whatever you can’t take with you is staying.”
“Asshole,” Larking hissed. “And to think I was in love with your sorry ass.” He wasn’t good-looking and calling him attractive was generous, but he did have a nice physique.
Marcel rolled his eyes. “The stairs is that way.” He gestured past her to the door. Larkin stomped out of the room, through the great room then finally made her way up the spiral staircase. “The lease on the Range Rover ends at the end of December. My assistant will be following up with you,” he called after her.
Larkin froze then raced back down the stairs. “I thought you said it was mine,” she said, breathlessly.
“It was, until the lease ran out.” The doorbell rang. “Who’s that?” He knew that his wife wouldn’t be ringing the bell.
“Oh shit, that’s Monique, my hair stylist; she was
stopping by to do my hair for tonight’s gala.”
“Tell her to leave,” Marcel ordered.
“What am I supposed to tell her?”
“That you’re not going, that’s truth enough.”
“Come on Marcel, let me at least have this,” she said thinking quickly. There would be a lot of rich men there; she could easily snag one that will take care of her for a couple weeks or so until she got herself together.
Marcel shook his head. “No, this is it. Go tell her.”
“Asshole,” she spat before going to the door. Five minutes later she was back. “She’s charging you for the visit,” she announced.
Marcel glared at her and it looked like he was about to dispute it, but changed his mind. “Just hurry up the clock is ticking.”
Larkin raced up the stairs to the master suite. She grabbed their sets of Louis Vuitton luggage and threw her clothing, makeup, shoes, jewelry in it. Between his luggage and hers she was able to stuff everything in it and then some. This time she didn’t leave anything behind. She also grabbed some of his jewelry that she knew he wouldn’t miss. “I’m going to pawn this shit,” she muttered before tossing it all in the luggage.
The two maids who hated her were standing outside the door when she shoved it open. And they laughed at her while she struggled to carry her bags down the stairs, neither offered to help. And when she almost fell on her third and last trip down, both watched with bated breath, to see if she would tumble down the stairs, she didn’t.
She tossed the last two pieces of luggage in the Range Rover, after much pushing, tugging, and jiggling she managed to fit everything in the truck. She strolled back inside to appeal to Marcel one last time. “Are you sure?” she asked, while batting her eyelashes at him.
“Positive.”
She touched his arm. “Marcel, I—”
“Bye Larkin,” he said meanly. He crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps bulged menacingly. This was the same man who murmured sweet nothings in her ear, the man who lavished her with expensive gifts and taken her on extravagant vacations.