Danielle’s heart was pounding. “Let me see who it is,” she said.
Pleasure gave both of her ass cheeks a light tap before he pulled his dick out of her and lay down on the bed.
She climbed off the bed and grabbed a silky housecoat from the door of her walk-in closet, pulling it on as she left the bedroom. She raked her fingers through the lost curls of her hair, crossing the living room and looking out the peephole of the door. She dropped back down onto her bare feet at the sight of Omari standing there.
No one even knew she was in town.
She looked over her shoulder toward her bedroom and then back at the door before she finally opened it. “Hi, Omari,” she said, hiding her body behind the door. “I was in bed.”
He smiled at her, looking handsome and dapper in a linen suit with rich brown leather accessories and a crisp white shirt. “I just happened to be pulling into the parking garage when I saw the limo dropping you off. I thought I would stop by and welcome you back to town.”
Danielle smiled at him genuinely. The man was fine. His style of dress fashionable. And his persistence endearing. But she was not looking for a relationship.
She turned the deadbolt lock on her door and then stepped out into the hallway, letting the door close behind her. She crossed her arms over her chest to keep her nipples from pressing against the thin silk. “Omari, listen, I have to be honest with you. I’m really focused on my career and I am not looking for a relationship right now. I just can’t be distracted from my goals. I don’t multitask very well and right now it’s all about my career.”
He leaned against the wall and looked down at her. “I’m a busy man myself so I can understand and the fact that you are so driven makes your fine ass even more attractive to me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest.
Danielle looked down at her bare feet and her nude-colored toenails. There was something about the man that gave her that thrill.
He reached out and lightly touched her chin to lift her face up. “Listen, you’re in LA and I’m here, so let’s just take it easy. Chill. Enjoy dinner when we’re in each other’s town. Nothing major. Grown folks shit.”
Her face tingled where his hand touched her chin. “Nothing major,” she stressed with a meaningful look.
He chuckled deep in his chest before he lowered his head and lightly pressed his lips to hers. Curious, it was Danielle who reached up to grab the sides of his face and deepen the kiss. It was slow and deliberate. Warm and tasteful. Simply electrifying. She moaned as his hands came down to her waist to pull her body close to his as he gently sucked the tip of her tongue. She felt her clit come alive again.
And then she remembered Pleasure waiting for her in bed.
With regret she ended the kiss. “I don’t have to be in New York until three so I’ll call that number you gave me in the morning.”
Omari nodded and turned to stroll with pure swagger to the elevators. He gave her one last look before stepping into the elevator. “In the morning?” he said, pointing at her with a smile.
Danielle just nodded and gave him a wave before she turned and entered her apartment, removing the deadbolt lock before she closed it securely. She grabbed enough hundred dollar bills to pay his fee and then slipped the robe from her body to walk back to the bedroom naked.
Pleasure was lying in the middle of the bed stroking his snakelike dick back to life as he put on a new condom. Danielle sat the money on the nightstand and climbed onto the bed, straddling him. She leaned down to sway her hard nipples against his mouth. Pleasure moaned as he tilted his chin up to capture one in his mouth and swirled his tongue against the chocolate bud.
Her horniness was intensified by the pure chemistry she experienced with Omari at the door. Pleasure was hell in bed and had a dick that should be licensed but they both were clear that it was just sex and so there was no chemistry. They would never make love. They fucked each other. Simple and plain.
She swatted his hands away and sat up to guide his dick inside her as she took the lead of what could be their last session. If Omari was even half as good as Pleasure and willing then she saw no need to pay for dick.
Danielle played with Pleasure’s nipples as she circled her hips against him, sending the hard shaft of his dick in slick movements against her clit.
Danielle wanted to cum and she was going for it.
My dime, my time.
But Pleasure was used to being in control and so he dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips and rocked his hips back and forth on the bed, intensifying each thrust.
“Ah,” Danielle cried, leaning back and covering her eyes with her forearm as she felt an explosive nut brewing in her.
Pleasure moved quickly and grabbed Danielle around the waist, his dick still buried deep within her, and turned her onto her back. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and twisted his body at an angle as he continued to clench and unclench his hard buttocks with every stroke of his dick against her walls.
Danielle’s head hung off the bed and she didn’t give a damn. Pleasure pressed his thumb against her clit and quickened his pumps. She cried out as tiny explosions went off inside her until one big continuous spasm of white-hot release coated his dick.
He turned his head and sucked at a spot on her calf, his eyes tightly closed as his body tensed with the first fiery jolt of his cum. It was a struggle to ignore the sensitivity of his tip as he fought to continue plunging his dick inside of her again and again until they both were spent.
“Whoo,” Danielle sighed, feeling out of breath as her heart pounded fast and hard.
Pleasure fell back onto the bed and used his strong grip to pull her up more so that her head no longer dangled like a test dummy. “I don’t know who was at the door but thank them for me,” he said, his hand splayed across his chest as it rose and fell with his labored breathing.
Danielle curled up onto her side as she felt sleep coming on strong. “You can catch a nap for a couple of hours if you need to,” she said, her voice slightly muffled by the pillows her face was sunk into.
Pleasure chuckled as he sat up in bed. “Oh this some eat-and-run type shit,” he teased, walking over to the bathroom with the condom still clinging onto his dick.
Moments later she heard the toilet flush.
And that was all she heard as she gave in to the rest her body needed.
When Danielle awakened early that next morning, Pleasure was gone. That was fine by her. They both got what they wanted last night.
She hopped from the bed, still naked, and pulled off all the covers, making a mental note to drop the duvet cover at the dry cleaner and to place her linens in the wash. Both had to be sweat soaked and stained with . . . fluids.
She laughed at that as she entered the bathroom. When she emerged twenty minutes later the steam of the shower escaped with her. She had a plush pink towel around her body and another around her freshly shampooed hair.
Danielle was looking forward to grabbing something to eat with Omari before she headed back into the city, but first she just wanted to decompress and enjoy being home for the first time in a long time.
“Welcome home,” she told herself as she stood at the entrance to the living room and enjoyed the sunlight beaming through the bay windows.
For one second she allowed herself to remember the fun times she had in her home once Latoya moved in with Tiffany and Keesha moved in with Kimani. But somehow the fun times turned into stressful times as she took over the mother role. That shit had become tiring and she felt more of herself disappear as their lives took precedence.
She grabbed her iPad from her tote on the couch and walked into the kitchen to put on a kettle of water to make tea. The only food in her fridge was eggs left over during her last weekend trip home. She worked on frying a couple of those. It would be enough to hold her until she made plans with Omari.
Once her food and drink was ready she sat at the counter and turned on her iPad. She read through all her favorite gos
sip blogs, swiped through a couple of the digital magazines to which she subscribed, and checked Twitter to see what was trending. Last, she checked her e-mails and then her text messages.
Her eyes skimmed the list for the sender and the subject line. She opened messages according to priority and business trumped everything else. Danielle paused. Her eyes shifted up the list and widened a little bit as she re-read, “I know your secrets, Danielle.”
Her heart pumped as she opened the text. “The hell?” she whispered, looking at the taunt, in caps, repeated more times than she cared to count.
I KNOW YOUR SECRETS, DANIELLE.
I KNOW YOUR SECRETS, DANIELLE.
I KNOW YOUR SECRETS, DANIELLE.
Over and over and over again.
She sat back from the iPad as she frowned. Being in the public eye she knew she was open to all types of people of various levels of competency. And it was sent to the e-mail address on the network’s website. But still . . .
She couldn’t lie and say the shit didn’t rattle her, especially since she had secrets she damn sure didn’t want revealed.
Chapter 12
Latoya
“I love you, Mama.”
Latoya made a sappy face as she looked at her daughter’s face via Skype on her laptop. “I love you, too,” she said, wishing she could see more than just the blank wall behind her daughter’s head. She did know they were at his house in Short Hills, New Jersey, and she didn’t doubt that his mother, Janice, was on the premises helping him to take care of his little girl.
Tiffany was halfway through spending two weeks with her father, Lavitius Drooms, better known as the platinum-selling rap artist Bones. It had been a couple of years since his last big hit but his hefty child support check came monthly like a menstrual cycle and he was constantly on the road touring. She couldn’t lie that he always made time for Tiffany even though he still hated every bit of her mother’s guts.
Latoya couldn’t blame the man. She did falsely accuse him of rape to prevent her parents from knowing she was having sex. That was just childish, weak, and completely reckless of her. A moment Latoya was not at all proud of.
“Grandma is making me pink pancakes for breakfast,” she said, all smiles and dimples and missing teeth.
“Ooh that sounds good,” Latoya told her, shifting on her seat on the side of the bed. “I sure wish I had me some pink pancakes.”
“I’ll tell Grandma to send you some.”
Lord, don’t. If there was anyone who hated her worse than Bones it was his mother. Thank the Lord they all were able to hide their true feelings for each other and put Tiffany first.
“A’ight Tiff, tell your moms you’ll call her tonight.”
Latoya heard Bones’s deep and gravelly voice clearly even though he didn’t step in front of the camera.
“Daddy said—”
“I hear him, baby. You have fun today and you make sure to be just as good a girl as you always are,” Latoya said. “Kisses.”
Tiffany leaned forward and pressed her lips to the computer.
“I felt that. That’s a good one, baby,” she said before she leaned forward and did the same. “You get it?”
Tiffany nodded. “Got it.”
“Good.”
“Kiss my baby brother too,” Tiffany said, waving just before the connection ended.
She shook her head. If Bones ever finds out the stunt I pulled to make sure I won our custody battle all those years ago . . .
Was there an emotion greater than hate?
“I did what I had to do,” she said, rising to move across the room to check her appearance in the mirror one last time.
She took some solace in the knowledge that the money she made selling false stories about him to the gossip mags was safely tucked in a trust account for their daughter. Latoya never touched one penny of it. In fact, she made sure that she banked whatever money was left over from the child support after purchasing things Tiffany needed.
Latoya smoothed her hand over the base of her pixie cut beneath the wide-brimmed hat she wore tilted to the side. She then made sure the skirt of her dark purple suit was not too high above her knee. She loved the cut of the suit and the way it framed a curvy shape she hardly got to show. Having Taquan Jr. and nearing thirty had added a fullness to Latoya’s shape that she liked—and that her husband liked as well when he had time to remember that they both still liked sex.
The bedroom door opened.
Speak of the devil slayer. She smiled as Taquan eyed her from her head to her feet in the four-inch neutral pumps she wore. She spun for him. “You like, Rev?” she asked, walking over to taste his lips.
He brought his hand up to rub the small of her back and then patted it like a father did to reassure a child. Latoya leaned back. “What?” she asked, instantly annoyed.
“Baby, I think it’s beautiful. Matter of fact that suit makes me want to make another baby,” he began.
“But?” she added, stepping away from him.
Taquan moved past her to pick his watch up from the dresser. He focused on putting it on as he said, “I don’t think the church board would approve—”
Latoya threw her hands up in the air. “Well God forbid the church board doesn’t give my clothes a stamp of approval. A bunch of uptight fools with their old behinds looking like they worked the Underground dang-on Railroad.”
“Latoya.”
“Latoya, hell,” she said her voice filled with warning. “I’m not changing.”
He reached for her but she swiped his hands away. “I draw the line with your bosses telling me what to wear and to say and how high to jump. Enough is enough.”
“I never thought the devil would try to block my path to serve my God in the greatest capacity possible through my wife,” Taquan said, the lines in his handsome face showing his disapproval.
His words left her speechless. He just accused her of being a minion of the devil.
She started to argue her point but she pressed her lips closed instead, feeling her anger and hurt sharply. The feelings were so familiar to her these days. She turned from him, unable to lay eyes on him after such an accusation when he knew how much religion meant to her.
“I’ll understand if you feel like you need to find a less judgmental church to worship at,” he said.
“Now perhaps the devil is using you to block my path to serve our God in the greatest capacity possible,” she gave his words back to him in a low voice.
Taquan snorted and tugged on his monogrammed sleeves with a jerking motion. “Your parents are ready to leave,” he said.
Latoya said nothing to him and he stood there in the doorway, just as silent, as if he was waiting on her to say something. Well wait on . . .
A few moments more and he left the bedroom.
Latoya fought the urge to take another pill. She fought and won. For now. She was pretty sure the one she popped just an hour ago was completely responsible for the mini-tirade she just released on her husband.
Her parents and sisters were spending the weekend with them so that they could attend church together. As much as Latoya loved worshipping the Lord she had never been so happy to see a Sunday because they were leaving to head back to Newark right after Sunday dinner.
She looked in the mirror and made a face as she threw up a deuce sign, wishing she had the nerve to chuck it up in her parents’ faces. She left her bedroom, still in her “devil in a purple suit” outfit. She was about to head down the stairs when she spotted her baby sister, Latrece, walking out of the bedroom she was sharing with their middle sister.
“All ready?” she asked, still amazed that the sixteen-year-old was now just as tall as she was.
“Ready to get away from them? Hell yes.”
That took Latoya aback. “I meant are you ready to leave for church but . . . uhm . . . okay . . .”
“I put Vaseline on my lips this morning and Mama made me take it off. Vaseline, Toy. Vas-E-Line,” she stressed. “I am so
sick of them and they got Latasha just as whacked in the head as they are.”
And then Latoya saw it. Her baby sister had that same fire and defiance she had. It was the same rebelliousness that made her so determined not to follow their rules that she made some of the worst decisions of her life. She was one First Lady with a past that would have sent her straight to hell if she had not asked the Lord for forgiveness.
Abortions. False accusations of rape. Sleeping with a minister.
Latoya wanted none of that for her sisters. “Maybe—and let me think about it and talk to Taquan first—but maybe I’ll ask Mama and Daddy if you can live with us?”
Latrece’s eyes got big and she almost jumped up high enough to scale Latoya. “Please think about it. Pleeeease.”
“We’ll see,” she said, grabbing her hand and leading her down the stairs where the rest of the family was already climbing into the vehicles.
Latoya continued her silence with Taquan during the short ride to the church. She was very deep into her emotions. She looked down at her diamond-studded wedding band and felt like some of the love and commitment it symbolized was beginning to fade. As soon as they pulled up to the church, she felt a pang of hurt over Taquan’s words to her that morning.
Even as he unbuckled their squirming son, Taquan and Latoya said nothing to each other. They waited on her parents and sisters to walk the short distance from their parking spot and entered the church together.
Latoya smiled and warmly hugged the tall usher already positioned in the vestibule with programs in his gloved hands. “Hey, Brother Deel. You’re back on the usher board. Haven’t seen you in a while,” she said as everyone continued inside the church.
He smiled. “I’m back. My mother was sick and it was taking up a lot of my time the last few weeks but she feels much better,” he said.
“Good.”
“How you been?” he asked, reaching to squeeze her hand quickly but comfortingly.
Marion Deel was such a spiritual warrior. From the moment he joined their church Latoya had spotted a goodness about the man. He always had a positive way of looking at things and she couldn’t remember him saying a negative word. She had been drawn to his light. Nothing sexual. Just as someone whose focus was doing good deeds in honor of the Lord and nothing else.
Never Keeping Secrets Page 10