by Patti Doss
Copyright @2014 by Patti Doss. Publisher: Jessica Watkins Presents. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages to be printing online, in a newspaper or magazine.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be assumed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
dedication
I would like to dedicate this book to my children DaKiriyah, Detric Jr., & DaNiyah. DO NOT READ THIS BOOK UNTIL YOU ARE 18 or older!!!!! Just know that dreams do come true. I’m living proof of that. Thanks for pushing and encouraging me to write and for giving me the space and quietness I needed when I wrote. I love you guys so much!
I also want to dedicate my book to my father, Bennie Lee, Jr. (1950-2013) from the day we met, the bond was formed. I know you are with me and looking down on me, but when you left me, I felt like a part of me went with you. I almost gave up on my writing because I no longer had my number one supporter. You believed in my writing when I was still writing ROSES ARE RED poems. You saw my talent even when I didn’t see it. It hurts not having you here to celebrate my dream with me, but I know you are always with me in spirit.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not have been possible without God. It was through my faith in him that all this is possible.
I also want to thank JESSICA WATKINS, for giving me the opportunity to share my writing with the world.
Thanks to all the other JWP AUTHORS & other authors that helped my transition into being a new author and for believing in me and supporting my writing.
A very special thanks goes to my husband, Detric. Thanks for all your support and understanding through this writing process. I love you baby, and I’m so happy to share my lifelong dream with you.
Enormous thanks and gratitude goes to the besties: OREAL, SHENNA, NAOMI, & MAURRIO. Thank you, Oreal, for pushing me to put my ideas on paper and write my first novel. I’m going to make it brief before you start crying but just know you are more than a friend to me, you are my sister. Thank you for your never ending support, motivation, and encouragement. Love you girl!
Thanks, Shenna, for critiquing the pages of my book as I wrote them. You prepared me for negative reviews and everything with your constructive criticism and your need to just tell it like it is. I appreciate it all especially how you motivated and encouraged me, which made me a better writer. You, too are my sister, my ride or die chick, I love you more than you will ever know.
Naomi, girl you made my time in Georgia very special. You were my family in a land where I really didn’t have any, and you embraced me as if we actually were related. It’s true what people say; blood doesn’t necessarily make you kin, loyalty do! Girl you have been A1 since day one and I love you for that. Thanks for always being there. Thanks for being a friend, sister, editor, and critic when I needed you. I’m so happy to share my dream with you and I cannot wait until you join the wonderful world of WRITING!
To my bestiest (I know it’s not a word) friend in the whole wide entire world MAURRIO aka SLICK, boy where do I even begin! From the first day we meet, we clicked. You are the true example of a friend until the end. Out of all these years, you have never changed on me. Even when life took us down separate paths, you were still there for me. Even distance could not tear up our friendship. Thank you for everything, the late night, long distance calls, endless FB messages, texts, calls, etc. whenever I need my bestie, you were always there, always! I could say so much more, but I’m getting emotional and you know how I hate to cry so I’ll just say thank you for supporting me nonstop!! Love you so much!
To my family, I just want to say thank you. I never meant to make anyone feel as if I was better than them, my goal was simply to better myself. Although we haven’t always gotten along, or the support was not there for me as I would have wanted it to be, I’m still thankful for it because it made me grind harder. It made me want to be better than people said or thought I could be. It gave me the motivation to work harder to make my dream a reality. To my mother, I love you and always will. Watching your struggle made me strive hard to do more, to be more, and to accomplish more. Because of you I am the strong woman I am today.
To my friends and other supporters, whether you liked a post or liked my author page, maybe it was a smile or wink, or a word of praise or a word to motivate and encourage me, whatever you did, whatever your role was, I am completely grateful. No writer is whole without a great supportive system and fans that appreciate his/her writing, and I am so happy to have some wonderful people who support me.
If I left anybody out charge it to my head and not my heart. I have entirely too many siblings, nieces, nephews, and cousins to name, so just know that I love each and every one of you guys and I am thankful for your support as I embark on this journey into the WORLD OF WRITING!!!!
Prologue
I knew that I shouldn’t be doing this. As he entered the hotel room, there was a small piece of my heart that felt some guilt. He was somebody else’s husband, not mine to fuck and suck as I was eagerly planning to do as I watched him glide into the room and secure the door.
He barely said, “Hello,” as he immediately started to remove his clothes.
Despite his blasé demeanor, my sex purred at the sight of his bare chest.
He looked good.
Too good.
As much as I wanted to say no and do the right thing, that larger part of my heart wished that he was all mine. For three months, I had been doing everything in my will power to make that wish come true. Yet, no matter how much I gave him my body and heart, he was still very married, and we were still very much just sex in a hotel room, or wherever there were no knowing eyes, whenever he could get away.
“Mmmm,” I moaned as he climbed onto the bed with me.
I was lying there in a red lace bra and panties. He looked at my body like he couldn’t wait to taste it. Yet, he looked me in the eyes like he couldn’t wait to be done so that he could leave.
“I missed you,” I told him, trying to coerce some loving words from him.
All I got was, “Oh yea?” as his focus returned to my breasts and full hips.
If he wasn’t willing to give me loving words, the hypnotic smell of his cologne was enough to put me in the mood for what I knew would be hot, raunchy and oh so good.
When I saw the hesitance in his eyes, I took over. I rolled him over and brought my eyes face to face with an erection that was way more confident about what it was doing than he was. I put him into my willingly, wet mouth. All of him. Just like I knew he liked it. No matter how much he wanted to resist, I felt him relax into my oral lovemaking.
Love making; that’s exactly what I was doing. He was married, but I loved him. This wasn’t just sex to me. He was mine. I was just waiting on him to realize that. It was wrong. I should have pitied myself for being so eagerly in love with another woman’s husband. Yet, my love was not shamed. I wanted him to be in my life so much that the thought brought tears to my eyes as I allowed him to sex my face.
Jessica Watkins Presents
Somebody Else’s Husband
by Patti Doss
Chapter 1
TAMMIE
Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!
That was the sound of my alarm clock waking me up. It seemed like I had just gone to sleep. Now it was time to get up already. It was 6 a.m., time for my morning walk, my only period of solitude and “me” time before my day got hectic.
The autumn morning air was so cool and crisp as I made my way to the trac
k. The morning dew blanketed the grass, greeting me with every step while the sun and the rest of the world were still trying to wake up.
This weather is perfect, I thought to myself as I began my usual stretch and warm-up routine. I never started my two-mile walk and run without it. Considering the blistering southern heatwave that raged through the city this summer, I found myself deeply appreciative of this beautiful, refreshing morning weather. It was immaculate, neither too hot nor too cold.
Just as I’m finishing up my warm-up, my anonymous walking partner came along. He was young, tall, dark-skinned, and very handsome, but he never said anything to me. He would only nod and continue walking.
We pass each other along the trail without a word between us. Yet, I feel a connection to him. Like maybe we’ve met before or maybe it’s just because I feel safe not having to walk the trail alone. I shooed my inner voice and its skeptical backtalk regarding Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome and transitioned from walking to jogging, to running. I maintained a steady pace and ended my two miles just as the sun started breaking through the clouds.
As I am walking to my car, my anonymous walking partner catches up to me and finally introduces himself.
“Hello, my name is Jamal. You don’t know me, but I’ve been trying to figure out for weeks now how to introduce myself and tell you how sexy you are.”
Warmth spread over my cheeks. So he did notice me.
“Hello, Jamal. I’m Tammie.” I smiled in return. “Thanks for the compliment. I am very flattered, but I am also very married… and my husband is waiting for me.”
He nodded, obviously disappointed. “Okay, Mrs. Tammie. Can I give you my card in case you become single again?”
We shared a laugh at his corny little line, but I accepted his offer, took his card, then got in my car and left.
* * *
When I arrived home, the kids were still sleeping. I immediately hopped in the shower, bathing myself with raspberry vanilla body scrub quickly before wrapping myself in a towel and, while humming to myself, walking into the bedroom.
Just as I enter, my husband slams his phone closed and sat up in bed.
“Who was that?” I asked with my eyebrows arched with suspicion.
“Oh, that was work. The contracts for the airport job have to be turned in by this evening, and they aren’t even ready yet, so I may be home a little late,” he replied.
Although my insecurities wanted to take over, I replied, “Okay, honey. Just try not to make it home too late.”
Being a psychiatrist, I always tell my clients to listen to their intuition because it will never fail them. Maybe, I should have taken my own advice. Lately, my intuition was telling me that something wasn’t right with Michael, but I just didn’t know what it was.
Part of me wondered if he was cheating on me when he said that he was working late all the time. My husband had always been a hard-working man. That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him. I never questioned his work schedule or work ethics, because I knew he was seriously driven, but lately it just seems as if he is always working late.
Not only was he hard-working, but he was fine! Mike was 6’2”, dark-skinned, 225 pounds, average build, and with some of the prettiest skin and sexist lips I’ve ever seen on a man. I love Mike’s lips, but I think his eyes are what drew me to him. Mike’s eyes are so dark that people often mistake them for black. Although I love Mike’s eyes, my mother hated them. She said people with dark eyes are sneaky and can’t be trusted.
I hoped that was not true.
Nevertheless, I pushed my insecurities in the back of my mind and started getting dressed.
As if he was reading my mind and wanted to destroy any thoughts of doubt, Michael grabbed me by my waist and took off my towel. He kissed ever so softly behind my ear, up and down my back. I tried to turn around to face him, wanted to feel his lips pressed against mine while we made love, but he had other plans. He stilled me, keeping my back to him and continued kissing it up and down while his fingers found my wetness.
He eased me on the bed and entered me from behind. At first he was so gentle with it, like we were both virgins having sex for the first time. Then he started to thrush harder and harder. I matched his rhythm while being careful not to wake the kids.
“I’m cumming,” I breathed heavily. “Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.”
Michael was taking me on a mini-vacation, and I was arriving at my destination. However, I wasn’t ready to get there unless he was cumming with me, so I hold back and continue to throw it back for him. I held out, waiting for Michael to catch up. It didn’t take long before I felt Michael lessen his grip. His body tensed up, and he announced that he was ready. We came together, and it was deliciously amazing! As we came down from the euphoria, Michael kissed me once more on my back and got up to get in the shower.
I grabbed him and pulled him back onto the bed and kissed him. My lips caressed his. I kissed with so much passion. I kissed him with all of my heart and soul. I tried to kiss all my insecurities away and not think about the mixed signals that I’ve been getting from him. We kissed for what seemed like minutes, until Michael pulled away and insisted that he had to get ready for work. So we hopped in the shower together, cleaned the sweaty scent of our lovemaking off and got ready to begin our day. Michael left for work and Makenzie, Makayla, and MJ were off to school. Finally, the house is quiet, except for Jasmine Sullivan’s sultry vocals crooning through the speakers of my iPad 2.
This silence was the best part of my morning. It gave me the ability to chill out and set a smooth emotional foundation for myself before I spent the rest of the day listening to other people’s problems. I love being a psychiatrist, but sometimes it gets overwhelming trying to figure out why people behave the way they do. It also has its less than stellar moments, because it can take its toll on you emotionally. I had this one case where an eleven-year-old girl had been sexually assaulted by her father and became pregnant by him. That was a very tough case for me because I have two daughters. I could never imagine my girls ever having to endure anything like what that little girl had to.
Anyway, I only had three clients that day. Then it was off to lunch with the girls; Sharon, Persia, and Rachel. Being a psychiatrist, you rarely ever get the chance to deal with your own issues, even though you may be able to identify what the issues are, you rarely have an outlet because you are always occupied with other people’s problems. So my weekly lunch with the girls gave me that avenue to vent. Also, it just helped keep me rational because after all the stuff I had heard, sometimes it was hard to stay sane.
Chapter 2
MIKE
My phone rang just as I pulled away from the house.
I knew she would call again.
“You’ve got to stop calling me before I leave home in the morning,” I answered. “My wife is going to start to suspect something. I already told you that I’m not going to jeopardize my marriage or my family for you.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before she replied, “I’m sorry. I just missed you that’s all. It won’t happen again.”
I hissed, “I know it won’t and it better not. If it does, we are done. Do you understand me, Rachel?”
Rachel, one of my wife’s best friends.
I don’t know how we got to this point. If my wife was to ever find out, it would probably kill her if she didn’t kill me or Rachel first. I never meant to hurt my wife. Every time I try to break it off, Rachel and I always end up sleeping together again. Now things were complicated because Rachel was falling in love with me.
I had to put an end to this before I lost my family.
Rachel was an excellent lover, much better than my wife. Although Tammie loved sex, she just wasn’t freaky enough for me. After the first time with Rachel, I must admit, I was hooked. Rachel and I would hook up and then act like nothing ever happened between us.
I still remember the first time, we had sex. I was off work that day, and
Tammie had already left for work and the kids were at school. Rachel came over looking for Tammie for some reason; I’m not sure why. She had on this turquoise buttoned down wrap dress, turquoise and brown jewelry and a brown belt cinching her waist at the center of the dress with brown knee-high boots.
She was looking so good. “Tammie’s not here,” I said, taking in her sexiness.
“Okay,” she smiled. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom before I head out of here?”
“Not at all. Come in,” I replied, holding the door open for her, getting an extra look as she sashayed past.
I went and sat down on the couch, but a few minutes later, she called out from the bathroom and asked where the hand towels were. I told her they were in the top cabinet of the bathroom space saver. She replied that she couldn’t reach them, so I got up to go help her out. She was looking in the mirror when I came in the bathroom. I passed by her to get to the space saver. The front of my pants met the back of her dress. I don’t know if it was intentional on her part or an accident on mines. Nevertheless, I shook it off and reached up to get her a towel.
When I turned around, she was directly behind me unbuttoning her dress.
“What are you doing?”
Continuing to disrobe, she smirked. “What do you think?”
Aside of saying, “I can’t do that to Tammie,” I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know what to do, so I was headed for the door. As I turned, she grabbed the front of my pants, yanked them down, and exposed me.
I wanted to move, but I was stuck. I couldn’t believe what she was doing. The next thing I know, I was on the toilet, and she was taking me in her mouth…all of me! Getting my dick sucked by my wife’s best friend was so wrong, but it felt so damn good. Part of me was screaming, “This isn’t right. Make her stop, man!” I wanted to stop her so bad, but it felt so good. It was like I was paralyzed or something. Then I started thinking about how Tammie never sucked my dick as good as Rachel was, so I leaned back, relaxed into the pleasure of her oral massage, let go and just let her work.