His Betrayal Her Lies

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His Betrayal Her Lies Page 14

by Angel de'Amor


  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. Kalon started to tongue kiss her and his pumps grew faster and more urgent. He flipped over onto his back and Taylor positioned herself on top and started to ride him. Head back, she bounced up and down. In one fluid motion, she flipped her body around and now her back was facing him and she was riding him backwards.

  Kalon’s mouth fell open and he almost came right then and there. He never experienced that sexual move from any one of his women.

  He turned her on her stomach and entered her from behind, playing with her clit while he pumped inside of her. They both were covered in sweat and the only sound was from their bodies hitting one another. Kalon felt a warm feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach and he knew he was about to release. Taylor reached in between her legs and rubbed his dick as it came in and out of her. He lost it. In unison, Taylor let out a loud cry and Kalon roared like a lion.

  Trying to catch his breath, Kalon fell on Taylor’s back. In his wildest dreams, he didn’t expect Taylor, as prim and proper as she appeared, would be this great in bed. The girl had skills. He rolled off of her and onto his back, pulling her onto his chest. Not even sixty seconds went by before he heard a light snore from her. Taylor was fast asleep. He looked down at her, his breath making her hair blow across her face. Turning to look out into the Chicago night sky, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He had that same sensation the night he kissed her at the club. He rubbed his chest in that area.

  He inched over until Taylor’s head rested on a pillow he had taken off the couch. Without a doubt, he was going to have to put some distance between them. Come morning, she would be gone from his life.

  Kalon awoke the next morning to find himself spooning Taylor from behind. “I must have been sleepwalking,” he thought as he wracked his brain trying to remember getting up to get the fleece blanket that covered them. Snuggled up against her ass, he felt himself becoming hard again. She must have felt his dick getting harder, too, because she started to awake slowly.

  “I see someone wants some more,” she said in a groggy voice.

  This was a major violation of his one-time rule, but Kalon just had to be inside her one more time. He dropped a few kisses on her shoulder blade and entered her from behind. Being so close to her, he couldn’t think straight. All he wanted to do was take her over and over again. He rocked his hips back and forth. Taylor caught on to his rhythm.

  * * *

  Kalon felt Taylor moving his arm off her chest. For the fourth time that day, they stirred from sleep, sprawled out on the floor naked after sinfully good sex. She probably has to pee. He cracked his eyes open just enough to see her stand and put on the white T-shirt he had thrown across the chaise in the corner. She walked softly across his steel floors in the direction of the bathroom. Kalon remained frozen in place, pretending to be asleep.

  When Taylor returned to the living room and started picking her clothes off the floor, Kalon opened his eyes fully and saw her bent over trying to put on her shoes. With no panties on, her ass was in full view beneath his T-shirt.

  “Come here, baby.”

  Taylor jumped at the sound of his voice, no doubt thinking that he was still dozing. She moved slowly in his direction. He pulled her down to the floor.

  “You were going to leave without saying bye?”

  Touching his jaw then swirling a finger in his curly chest hair, she answered, “No, I was going to wake you before I left.”

  Kalon reached up and kissed her lips. She let out soft moans of pleasure. He moved to her earlobe and kissed her there, then planted a few kisses on her nose and her forehead.

  “I have to go, Kalon.”

  “Noooo, baby, please stay.” Kalon whined. Small kisses up and down her neck drew a sigh from Taylor. She tried to pull back.

  “I thought you have to go to New York today.”

  Lips never leaving her neck, his husky voice replied, “That’s this evening.” He pulled Taylor on top of him.

  “Okay, I’ll stay until it’s time for you to leave.”

  Kalon pulled the T-shirt over her head. When she started to ride him again, he closed his eyes. He didn’t know what was so different about Taylor that he couldn’t get her out of his system. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see what it was either.

  The trip to New York couldn’t come at a better time. It would give him a chance to get his thoughts and body back under control from this spell Taylor had cast on him.

  Chapter 14

  Back-to-back meetings were lined up for Taylor on this typical Monday morning. Mrs. Tab was still out of the office on family medical leave with her husband, and the new assistant from the temp agency was a complete dingbat.

  The woman, who looked to be in her early twenties, was never at her desk. Here it was after three o’clock, and when Taylor walked by Mrs. Tab’s desk, the day’s mail was still there, unopened. The replacement had been away from her desk most of the day, with the phone ringing off the hook. Taylor was tired of the nonsense. She made a mental note to call the agency this evening and get a new worker. Taylor grabbed the pile of mail off the desk and took it to her office, intending to sift through it first chance she got.

  Sitting down and laying her head against her plush black leather chair Taylor closed her eyes and relived her rendezvous with Kalon. Entering that bathroom she had sat on the toilet and placed her head in her hands. A few tears flowed from her eyes at the idea of her giving herself to another man besides her husband. She had flushed the toilet to make it seem that she had used it and stared in the mirror behind the bathroom door. She had admired herself turning from side to side to see if she looked any differently because she surely felt different. Her heart was heavy and she wondered if this how cheaters felt once they had crossed that line of adultery.

  The afternoon sun was beaming through the window in Taylor’s office. She got up and adjusted the blinds before sitting back down at her desk.

  When she checked her messages, it was no surprise that the first ten were from Ari. As was her habit, she hit delete on every single one. She was tired of listening to his predictable excuses. It would start off with him apologizing and asking her if he could come back home. Then came the ones with a more challenging tone, where he told her he was tired of begging and if she wanted a divorce, he would grant her that. Inevitably, that kind of message would be followed by another call saying he didn’t mean it and he would give her the space that she needed. In this batch of voicemails, he had also thrown in one saying that he was going out of town for a few weeks and wanted to have dinner when he returned.

  Do what you have to do, Ari. Maybe when you get back, I’ll know what I have to do.

  Taylor’s mother had called a few times, too. Taylor wasn’t ready to talk to her yet either. She flipped open the male models portfolio Pam had given her. They were looking for a handsome man to grace the cover of Dynasty Magazine’s December issue. The first page she turned to was a picture of Idris Elba “bingo”. If they put Kalon on it, they wouldn’t be able to keep magazines on the shelves. They would sell out in a heartbeat, thanks to all the women who worship the great Kalon Knight.

  “You’d better watch your step so you don’t become one of them,” Taylor cautioned herself. Kalon wasn’t looking to be tied down, and neither was she. Even if she did want something serious with him, she couldn’t do anything about it until she dealt with her marriage. Not telling him the truth about her marital status was killing her but she figured once she told him, the chase would be over—and she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to give up Kalon Knight just yet.

  Eight-by-ten glossies in the portfolio she was skimming through showed her one handsome face after another. She flipped the pages slowly, then picked up the phone and called her publicist. She couldn’t have her boy-toy grace the front of her magazine cover; she might as well try to get the substitute.

  * * *

  Kalon stood on the curb of JFK Airport trying to flag down a taxi. He never liked coming to N
ew York because it was so busy and congested. The cab drivers drove like maniacs and people rushed through the streets, bumping each other and pick-pocketing. Chicago wasn’t too far from being the same but at least they still had morals.

  A taxi finally pulled up in front of him, but when he reached for the door, a tall slim brown-complexioned woman grabbed the handle first. Her hair was short and spiked liked Halle Berry’s. Just the right sized boobs and butt gave her the look of a model. Just my type.

  “I’m sorry, were you going to take this cab?” she asked with a wide smile.

  “Uh, naw, you can have it,” Kalon said.

  “Are you sure, sir?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Let me help you with your bags.” The driver popped the hood and Kalon placed her two rolling suitcases in the trunk. As he walked back to the curb and held his hand up to flag down another cab, the woman rolled down her window.

  “Hey, Mister.”

  Kalon turned to glance down at her.

  “Do you want to share?” She scooted over in the seat to make room for him.

  Any other time, he wouldn’t have passed up a chance to share a cab with this beauty because he knew what would happen but this time he found himself declining the offer. “No, thank you. I’ll catch another one.” Disappointment was in her eyes, but she rolled the window back up and the taxi pulled off.

  All Kalon had done for the past couple of days was think about Taylor. He had dialed her number a few times and hung up before pressing send, telling himself to get it together. This girl had become his addiction and he needed to go to rehab. The best therapy would be finding a new girl to bed as soon as he got back home.

  Another taxi pulled up. Kalon jumped in quickly before another fine woman could materialize and take it from him. He told the driver to take him to the W hotel. Traffic was brutal but he got there in enough time to shower, change clothes, and be early for his eight o’clock dinner reservation with his mother. She had called him that morning and said she wanted to meet at Ruth’s Chris Steak House.

  The doorman told Kalon that the restaurant was only six blocks away. With a little time to spare, he decided to walk instead of going through the rigmarole of getting another taxi in the downtown Manhattan traffic. It was a quarter to eight when he arrived at the restaurant.

  Spotting his mother wasn’t difficult. When he saw a booth surrounded by a small group of people, he knew that’s where she was sitting. He walked up and she waved him forward at the same time she dismissed the flock of admirers. “Excuse me everyone. I will give you my autograph later. My son just arrived.”

  Kalon was in shock. His mother never gave him much notice when business was on her mind—and it was always on her mind. The crowd disbursed with moans of disappointment.

  “Hello, Faith,” Kalon said as he embraced his mother. Since he was a small child, his mother had preferred for him to address her as Faith and not Mom. Faith had aged since the last time he had seen her. Her short bob had a light spritz of salt and pepper color. She always dressed in her latest fashions. She was wearing a blue one-button blazer, blue, fitted, tight-legged dress pants, and a pair of black four-inch Christian Louboutin red bottoms. Her clothes appealed to the average working women in their fifties.

  “Hi, Kalon.” They both took their seats, facing one another. Kalon picked up the menu from the table at the same time the waitress came over.

  “Can I get you something to drink, sir?”

  “I’ll have a Kitty cocktail.”

  The young lady smiled and lingered at the table longer. “Is that it, sir?”

  Kalon looked up at her. “Yes, that’s all for now.”

  His mother watched with amusement. When the waitress left, she said, “I see you have a way with women just like your dad did.”

  Not sure how to respond, Kalon kept quiet.

  There was a moment of awkward silence before his mother spoke again. “How have you been, son?”

  Kalon looked over the top of his menu. “I’ve been good, and you?” The conversation was strained at best.

  “I’ve been good; all this traveling is just taking a toll on my body. I’ve been thinking about selling the brand.”

  That caught Kalon’s attention and he put his menu down. “You’re thinking about selling your name?”

  “Yes. I will always be Faith Flare. Nobody can take that away from me.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “I just missed out on so many other opportunities, like being a mother to you for one.”

  Kalon folded his arms and listened to the mother he wished he had so many years ago.

  “I know I can’t go back and redo the past. I was just so career-focused and I had dreamed of being a big fashion designer ever since I was eight years old so when the opportunity presented itself I just ran with it. I didn’t realize that I was turning my back on the most precious gift God could have ever given me, my son.”

  Tears started to form in his eyes. He didn’t come here for this. He thought he would have a nice dinner about business and that’s all. He did not expect Faith to bare her soul. She reached across the table for his hand. He placed his hands in hers.

  “I’m sorry, Kalon, for not being the mother you needed.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Faith. I accept your apology.”

  “Okay, enough of this.” She wiped the fallen tear from her eye. “So, you look well and I see you have that Mohawk men are wearing now.”

  Kalon rubbed his hands through the strip of hair running down the center of his head. “Yeah, I’m just trying something new.”

  “It looks good, son.”

  They ate their steaks, talking about his company and the success that he had over the years. “How is your friend doing?” She started snapping her fingers, trying to remember his name.

  “Oh, Ephraim?”

  “Yeah, Ephraim. Is he married yet?”

  “Oh no, not Ephraim. He’s dating someone, though. I think it’s serious.”

  She took a sip of her wine. “So who is that special someone in your life?”

  Kalon took his napkin off his lap and dapped at his mouth.

  “I’m not in a relationship.”

  His mother sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why not? You’re a handsome, successful man.”

  This topic always seemed to come up. “I’m not looking for anything serious with anyone. I just date around from time to time.”

  Faith raised an eyebrow. “So you’re a player?”

  Exasperated, Kalon blew out a deep breath. “No, I’m not. Players lead women on to think there’s more. I don’t do that. I let them know up front that I’m not looking for anything serious. I’m still young and I’m just selective.”

  “Let me lay it on the line, my selective son. You are scared of commitment and I might have played a part in your phobia but don’t let your past define you. Don’t be afraid to open up your heart. When you experience love, it can be the most beautiful thing.” She formed her hands in a circle to bring emphasis to her words. “Don’t base your relationships off what happened between your dad and me. Despite it all, he and I truly did love each other. It was just that we grew apart and wanted different things in life.”

  The waitress came and placed the check on the table. “No rush; pay when you’re ready.” Kalon pulled out his wallet and placed his black American express card on the table. “You can take it now.” She smiled and left.

  Since his mother had brought up her relationship with his dad, he decided there was no harm, no foul if he dug a little deeper into it. “I need to ask you a question about what happened between you and my dad. You can choose not to answer.”

  “You want to know why we divorced?”

  “Yes.” He placed his folded hands on the table.

  Faith looked a little uncomfortable, but she opened up to him. “Like I said earlier, there are so many things I wish I would have devoted more of myself to. You, for one, and my marriage. I know it’s too late for your da
d and me. My career had taken off and I wanted to travel and see the world. Your dad wanted a stay-at-home wife. I just didn’t know how to be that for him so I chose my career and walked away.” She reached across the table and sat a hand on his. “I don’t want that for you, Kalon. Take time out for love.”

  These were not things he ever expected to hear out of his mother’s mouth. She had put a lot on his mind. After a little more small talk, Kalon kissed her goodbye and promised to stop by before leaving New York.

  Back in his hotel, he laid in bed thinking about what she had said to him. The relationship he had with his mother played a part in how he conducted his personal life; he had always known that. Fear of being abandoned made it impossible for him to trust a woman. For one split second he thought about what would happen if he opened his heart up to Taylor and she left him. That was too painful to imagine. It was a big leap for him. He decided to take baby steps.

  Taking his iPhone off the nightstand, he sent a text to Taylor. “Thinking of you, beautiful.” He pressed the send button, rolled over, and let sleep consume him.

  * * *

  Taylor awoke the next morning to a loud lawnmower outside cutting her eight-acre lawn. She had tossed and turned in her sleep all night as visions of Kalon’s body titillated her. Sitting up on the side of her bed, she ran her hands through her tangled soft curls. “I need a touch-up,” she said to herself.

  The cell phone was right beside her on the nightstand. She picked it up and pressed the on button to see the time. There was a text message. Pushing the view button, she saw that Kalon had finally reached out after four days. She had told herself that after Kalon left for New York she wouldn’t see him again. When he hadn’t called, she wanted to move on with her life and figure out what to do about her marriage. Now here she was staring down at a text message from him saying he was thinking of her.

 

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