by C. C. Morian
Published by YRBS Publishing
Copyright © 2015 by C.C. Morian
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.
Thank you for supporting the rights of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
A Sneak Peak of the next book in the Surprise Series
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Books by C. C. Morian
About the author
A Surprise Revelation
Chapter 1
Melissa’s fingers searched for the button to open the window, pushed it, but nothing seemed to happen. She felt a little warm air and realized she had opened the back window by mistake. She still hadn’t learned where everything was on her new Lexus. The car had been a recent gift from her husband, a side benefit of his recent promotion. She had been happy with her not very old Toyota, but Richard said he didn’t want his new business associates seeing her drive around in an old car, so now she had to learn about all the gadgets, which she didn’t care about anyway.
Not that it was a bad car, not at all. And not that she didn’t appreciate it. She liked new things, not shiny new necessarily, but trying new things. But she was so busy now with her new job that she didn’t always have time to change her routine. It was sad that something as easy as a window button seemed like something new, but that’s the rut she was in.
Sighing, she pushed the right button and rolled up to her mailbox. It was full, mostly junk mail, catching up to them from their previous address. Melissa tossed it all on the passenger seat and continued on up the long drive.
Their huge house came into view as she rounded the corner. The house was another thing she hadn’t gotten used to. Not only had they just moved in, but it was much larger than their last place, and that house had been even bigger than any house she had ever lived in. Another benefit of both her and her husband’s success. She had been a little lucky; in her first job out of college she had ended up as a marketing assistant at an internet startup. The company had given all the employees a small share of the stock, and when the company went public she had received a six figure payout. It was certainly not something to retire on, but she had invested it wisely, and ten years later, combined with her current job, it made her feel she was a key part of the family finances, even though Richard made more than she did.
The garage door rolled up to reveal an empty garage. Richard would still be at work. The house and the car were a nice upside to his success, but sometimes she thought life was just getting too complicated, moving too fast. Or slow—each day was the same; they both left for work early, she came home to an empty house, and he worked late. They rarely ate meals together, except on Sunday, and even then Richard was usually glued to his phone, checking emails.
And sex—forget sex. They barely had time to be together, and when Richard finally rolled into bed he was dead tired, or she was asleep. After almost eight years she was still discovering what marriage was all about. One big surprise was that you could be in the same space as someone else, sharing a house, without kids, and not have time to do things together. She had had more sex in long distance relationships after college than she did in her marriage. Now, with the house and their jobs and all the complications that went with both, there didn’t seem to be any movement, any excitement.
It wasn’t that she was unhappy. How could she be unhappy, with a good job, a good husband, a nice house? Just that day, over lunch with her best friend Julie, she had listened as Julie had complained about her husband John.
“He’s so lazy sometimes,” Julie had said. “He comes home and just plops on the couch, has a few beers, and channel surfs.”
“He’s got a tough job,” said Melissa.
“I know, I know, and I don’t work,” said Julie. “He provides. But he doesn’t have a lot of drive; he’s never going to get ahead like Richard.”
“He’s a good father, isn’t he?” Melissa always thought John was okay, although Julie complained a lot about him.
“He is,” admitted Julie. “I guess I just thought that there would be more to married life, you know what I mean?” She drained her wine. “Although it is nice to have someone to have sex with whenever I want. Sure beats those days in college when we’d go trolling bars for a hookup, doesn’t it? Most of those guys were drunk and couldn’t get it up anyway.”
Melissa laughed. “So were we.”
“God, I don’t remember half the things we did,” said Julie. “And some of the things I do remember I’d rather forget. Although there were a few funny moments.”
Julie was the only person Melissa would talk to about sex. “Remember that time you and—what was his name, Jim?—stumbled back to the apartment, couldn’t find the light switch, and fell onto my bed? And then had drunken sex.”
“Jack. His name was Jack. Jim was junior year. And the only reason we didn’t fall on top of you was that you and Marcus were in my bed?”
“Yeah, but we were sleeping!”
Julie gave Melissa a mischievous look. “You and Marcus didn’t do much sleeping,” she teased.
Melissa reddened. “That was a long time ago.”
“Not that long ago, girl. God, he was hot. I bet he still is.”
“You had plenty of good looking guys yourself,” said Melissa, toying with her food, trying to change the subject, not wanting to talk about Marcus, but she couldn’t help thinking about him. Julie was right. He had been hot. He was the first man she had been crazy about—as in out of control crazy. Just seeing him would get her excited. It wasn’t just his fantastic body, it was his whole persona, the way he carried himself, the way he didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought, the effect he had on other people—he’d walk into a room, and everyone, men and women, would turn to look at him. He didn’t have to say a word. Like the real alpha wolf never had to growl for everyone to know who was on top.
“I did,” said Julie. “A few anyway. But tell me,” she looked around at the other diners, lowering her voice to a whisper. “What was it like, really, to be with a black man? I never did get to do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on,” said Julie, exasperated. “You know very well what I mean.”
“You knew Marcus,” said Melissa. “We all spent a lot of time together.”
“Not like that,” said Julie. “Although sometimes at night when the two of you were going at it, I’d pretend to be asleep. . .”
“Julie!”
“What, you’re surprised? You certainly can’t be embarrassed, given everything we did in college.”
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br /> Melissa fumbled with her fork. “I just never thought you thought of Marcus that way.”
Julie scoffed. “Please. Every woman who saw him thought of him that way. I didn’t want to take him away from you, you know I’d never do that. But you can’t blame me if I fantasized about him.”
Melissa was thinking about the very first time she had seen Marcus, not at a bar, where she and Julie had met most of the guys she had dated, but in a movie line, waiting to see a chick flick. Most of the people in the line were women, but Marcus would have stood out even if they had all been men. His broad shoulders made a wide V with his flat stomach. His slacks weren’t tight, but she could still make out the line of his firm butt. A stunningly beautiful black woman was smiling at him; she was elegantly overdressed for the movies, but pulling off the look, seeming right at home.
His arm would reach out behind the woman as he moved with her, his big hand so large on her small thin back, guiding her along. So sure of himself. As he looked up from buying tickets his eyes briefly met Melissa’s, and she felt caught like a deer in headlights. He gave her a cocky half grin, knowing she had been checking him out, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed. As Melissa thought about it that night she had touched herself, so wet, and though she rarely pictured anyone specific when she masturbated, that night her mind was full of the black man, pretending she was the one he was with, his hand on her back, sliding down. . .
“Melissa? You still with me?”
Julie was peering over her newly filled wine glass. How had Melissa missed the waiter? “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Just thinking.”
“Bet I know who you were thinking about!”
Melissa flushed. “I don’t want to talk about it. I told you, that was a long time ago.”
“You are going to make me feel old,” said Julie. “It’s only been ten years. And you never answered my question. What’s it like being with a black man?”
Melissa toyed with the top of her wine glass. She rarely drank anything during lunch, she still had to go back to work. But she looked around for the waiter and pointed to her glass. Maybe just one more.
The wine had loosened her up a little. “What do you expect? He’s no different than any other guy, just because he is black.”
“Well, that’s not what I’ve heard,” said Julie, her voice a little too loud.
“Shh!” cautioned Melissa, as the waiter came up to refill her wine. When the waiter left Melissa said, as casually as she could, “Some guys are just bigger than others, it’s genetic or something, not just because they are black.”
“Aha!” Julie exclaimed. So Marcus was—well endowed?” She giggled, sounding like a schoolgirl.
Julie’s playfulness was contagious. “I’ll tell you something,” Melissa whispered. “I’ve had long, and I’ve had thick. But only Marcus was both.” She felt a little guilty, being married, talking about another guy at all, let alone his anatomy. It must have been the wine. But it was harmless. She’d never cheat on Richard.
But she couldn’t help herself now, even sitting in a crowded restaurant in the middle of the day. Now that Julie had brought him up, Melissa could not shake the image of the first time she had seen Marcus naked, still reeling that he had chosen to be with her, nothing like the elegant woman she had first seen him with. His body, even more amazing without clothing, tight and honed, no overdone gym muscles.
Melissa pulled herself back to the present, knowing she could get lost in the dream. “That’s enough of that kind of talk. Back to the real world.”
“Which can’t be that bad,” said Julie. “Richard is nice on the eyes. If he’s half as hard working in bed as he is at his job, I’m sure you have it good.”
“If only,” Melissa blurted. Immediately she regretted it. The wine talking again.
Julie, even after two drinks, was very good at reading her old friend. “What is it? Richard is treating you okay, isn’t he?” Her voice was worried, protective.
“Nothing like that,” said Melissa quickly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Hey Melissa, it’s me, remember? You used to make up a list of guys you dared me to walk up to and kiss in a bar.”
Melissa couldn’t help but smile. “Well, that was only because you started those lists first.”
“Right. Sometimes it didn’t stop at kissing. Remember that guy you wrote on my list and I put on yours? We both ended up sleeping with him.”
“Stop it!” said Melissa, but she was laughing. “You’re making me sound like a slut.”
“No, I know you really didn’t sleep with many guys. Well, not that many, anyway. Why would you, once you got Marcus? What I meant was that we’ve even shared a guy. So you can share anything with me.”
Melissa took another sip of wine to give her some courage. Julie was right, maybe it would help to talk about it. “Richard is a great husband, really.”
“But?” prompted Julie.
“I don’t know,” said Melissa. “We might be just in some kind of rut. All we do is work. Especially him. He just got promoted again, but now he’s got so much responsibility. He’s been at the same company for twelve years. I thought he would finally be able to slow down and relax a bit. But he’s just so—responsible. He feels everything is on him. He’s always so preoccupied with work. And it’s not just that he’s busy, he’s anxious, always worried. Some investors have put a bunch of new money in his company and he feels he’ll be some kind of failure if their investment doesn’t work out.”
“Sounds like a typical man in business these days,” said Julie. “Competitive. And all the companies are pressuring their employees to do more.”
“It’s not that,” said Melissa. “He’s certainly senior enough. It’s not the company expectation, it’s his. He does it to himself. It’s all he thinks about.” Her voice had turned sad.
“Maybe you need to try to get his mind off of things,” suggested Julie.
“Believe me, I’ve tried,” said Melissa. “I’ve suggested vacations, tried to get him to go to movies, bought him tickets to football games—he used to love going to games. He just doesn’t have time, or isn’t interested, or if we go, his mind is elsewhere. It’s like I don’t have all of him.”
Julie grinned. “Maybe you need to be thinking of something else. When I think John and I are getting into a rut, I do something to shock him out of it. It always works.”
“Really?” Melissa was interested.
Julie glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Well. . . One time while he was watching a baseball game on TV I just put my head in his lap, pretending I was going to take a nap. I told him not to mind me, he should keep watching the game. Before he knew what was happening I was giving him a blowjob. I’ve never seen him turn off a baseball game so fast!”
Melissa laughed. “If all else fails, try sex, right?” Her smile faded. “I’ve tried that, believe me I have. I tried tight skirts, even though I never dress that way. I tried lingerie, he didn’t even notice. I even tried your blowjob trick, except he was at his computer, and he said, ‘Wait, hon, just let me finish this email.’ ”
Julie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry! That would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.” She tried to control herself, but kept laughing. “I do know what you mean, he is so serious sometimes. Like always wanting to be called Richard. I called him Rick one time and he gave me this funny look. So I can picture it. Maybe I should try that with John if I’m not in the mood, ‘Wait, John, I have to finish the laundry. . .”
In spite of herself, Melissa was soon laughing along with Julie. Her friend could always make her feel good, no matter what was going on.
Julie finally got hold of herself. “Well, you didn’t marry him for sex. You knew that. If you just wanted sex you would have married Marcus.”
“I know,” said Melissa. “And I’ve never had second thoughts. It’s not that I didn’t have feelings for Richard. But I’d never been in love before, not really, you know what I mean? S
o I thought it was. Love. Now I realize love is a lot more complicated. Or simpler. I don’t know. I do love Richard, but I’m not sure that’s the same as being in love. But with Marcus—I never was totally comfortable. Some of that was good, he was always surprising me, which I loved. But he was so hot, I was always worried about him finding someone else better looking than me.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, you are really pretty, you have to know that!”
“Thanks, Julie. I realize I’m far from ugly. But we both know what I mean. Marcus could get any woman he wanted. The gorgeous ones, the elegant ones. I always felt inferior, not overall, just in the looks department. I’m the girl next door, not the starlet.”
“Did he ever cheat on you?” asked Julie.
“I’m not sure. I think so once. Or at least once. I was on my way to an early class one day and I saw him with another woman, just talking outside of an apartment. But they seemed too close, in each other’s space, and what was he doing outside of someone’s apartment that early in the morning? I just caught a glimpse of her, she was someone I knew, someone who must have known Marcus and I were together. I pretended I didn’t see him, I don’t think he saw me.”
Julie’s leaned forward. “What did you do to the bitch?”
“Nothing.”
Julie frowned. “That’s not the Melissa I know. You never take shit from anyone.”
“Generally no. But about Marcus, I was kind of insecure.”
“Did you confront him?”
“Not right then. I kept going to my class but couldn’t stop thinking about it. I called him and asked him what he was doing, he said nothing, just hanging out, so I don’t think he had seen me. So. . . I told him I was thinking about him so much that I couldn’t concentrate on class and asked if I could come to his place. I don’t know what I expected when I got there, he was so, cool, you know how he always was? I got mad, not at him, but at the other girl, thinking she could steal him. Instead of confronting him, I jumped him. I. . .well, let’s just say I did my best to remind him of what a good thing he had.”