The Lies We Tell for Love (The Love, Lies & Lust Series)

by Mz. Robinson

  “You do agree,” he said, staring at me with his eyes low.

  I looked in his eyes while clearing my throat.

  He leaned toward me and slipped his hand in the warm, sudsy water I had drawn for washing dishes. He touched my hand sensually beneath the surface. “Let me help you,” he said lowly as his hand caressed mine in the water.

  I was seconds away from God-only-knew-what when the phone rang. Pulling my hands quickly from his touch, I moved hesitantly toward the cordless phone that was sitting on the island counter. I didn’t bother drying my dripping hands; I was too thankful that the awkward shared moment with Kelly was interrupted, literally saved by the bell.

  “Hello?”

  “Baby?”

  “Dame!” I said, looking back at Kelly.

  He gave me a small smile, handed me a dry kitchen towel, then turned to face the sink again. Drying my hands, I watched him briefly as he resumed washing dishes in my place.

  “I’m sorry I missed your call,” Damon said, sounding extremely apologetic. “I was in a bad area, and my phone didn’t have a signal. Then when I called you back, it went straight to voicemail.”

  “My battery died,” I said, and that was the truth.

  “Oh,” Damon said. “Well, I’m sorry it took me so long to call you back. I had my nose buried in paperwork.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” I said, feeling slightly guilty that my man was working hard for our money while I was out shaking my ass with Kelly. “I just wanted to let you know I was going out for a little bit.”

  “Really? Did you have a good time?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I also came to the sad realization that my life is a bore without you and Jasmine.”

  “I can say the same about mine,” he said. “You and Jasmine are my life.”

  Smiling brightly, I excused myself to our family room. I wanted to speak to my husband in private, and I needed to remove myself from Kelly and the obvious sexual tension that was looming between us. “I should have gone to Atlanta with you,” I said to Damon once I was out of Kelly’s earshot. I plopped down on sofa to talk to my boo. “I could have visited Ilene, and the two of us could have gone shopping while you were handling your business.”

  “That would have been nice, babe,” Damon said, “but we will make up for this time, I promise. The good news is that I won’t have to take another trip for a while.”

  Hearing that made my smile grow wider, especially since I knew it would prevent me from getting into any further potentially compromising positions with Kelly. “Good,” I said. “So how’s the biz?”

  “It’s going well. You know how it is, boo—contracts, arguments, and…” He stopped speaking, and it sounded like he was covering the phone receiver to muffle something out. A few seconds passed and he resumed talking. “Sorry about that, hon’,” he said.

  “Are you at the office now?” I asked curiously, checking the time on my watch. It was one a.m. in Atlanta, a little late to be dealing with paperwork.

  “No. I’m at the hotel,” he said quickly. “I accidentally dropped the phone.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Anyway, I just wanted to call and tell you goodnight and say I love you,” he said. “I’ll be home tomorrow to show you just how much.”

  “I can’t wait,” I said. “I love you too, baby—always.”

  ***

  After ending my conversation with Damon, I returned to the kitchen to find the lights out and Kelly gone. I decided I’d had enough for one night, and it was time for me to retire to my bedroom. I climbed into Damon and my king-sized bed, wearing nothing but my birthday suit and a frown, an expression resulting from being naked, horny, and alone. I also had a million and one thoughts running through my head. The one that stood out the most was of Kelly and the sexual attraction, something I could no longer deny.

  Chapter 19

  Damon

  After spending the day with Donovan at the park, followed by a visit to Chuck E. Cheese’s, I discovered the kid was smart, full of energy, and very well mannered. I spent the entire day with him, attempting to make up for as much lost time as possible in twenty-four hours. When it came time for me to drop him off at the hotel with Nadia, he wrapped his arms around my neck and started to cry. I didn’t have the heart to leave the kid in tears, so I opted to give him a bath and read him a bedtime story until he drifted off to sleep. I loved those father-son moments, and I was instantly caught up in them—so caught up that I didn’t hear my phone ring when Octavia called. I came up with a quick lie that she believed, but it didn’t make me feel any better about the situation. I was slipping quickly, and I knew if I didn’t gain some control over my situation, I was going to be exposed. To make matters worse, I was almost busted on the phone when Nadia came waltzing into the room, talking to me while my wife was listening on the other end. Nadia did so even after I had told her I was calling to check on my wife. Granted, Octavia hadn’t heard her (at least I guessed and hoped not), but I had a strong feeling that Nadia did it on purpose.

  “Why would I do that, Damon?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “I told you I respect your decision to keep our family a secret.”

  Nadia had begun referring to the three of us as “our family” at every opportunity. Earlier she had insisted upon accompanying Donovan and me on our outing, but I told her firmly that I was there to visit with my son and only my son. I didn’t want her getting too comfortable around me, and I didn’t want to delude her into thinking that there was an ounce of hope that the two of us would someday get back together. After pouting and trying to throw a bullshit line at me about Donovan not being familiar with me, she finally gave up.

  I peeked in on Donovan one last time before going back to my hotel. I was satisfied to see that he was still sleeping peacefully. I slipped out of the room and back into the living room of the suite to find the lights dimmed and Nadia sitting on the sofa wearing nothing but a smile. There was an open bottle of Rémy Martin sitting on the coffee table in front of her, along with two glasses, one of which was half-empty.

  “María is gone,” she said, standing and walking up to me.

  I allowed my eyes to drop from hers just long enough to scan over her body and then back up again. I felt a rising inside my pants and wanted to readjust my man, but I refused to allow Nadia the pleasure of seeing me do so.

  Nadia stopped directly in front of me, so close that one wrong move or even a simple twitch of my hand could mean my fingers ending up in the wrong place. “DJ is asleep,” she tempted, “so it’s just us—just you and me.” She had the audacity to reach out and slowly stroke the side of my face with her fingertips.

  “Actually,” I said, taking her hand in mine, “I’m leaving too.”

  “Marriage has made you soft, Damon.” Nadia took a step forward, pressing her breasts against my chest and sending a rush of blood to my ever-hardening dick. Smiling victoriously, she reached down and cupped my crotch with her hand. “Well some parts of you have gone soft,” she said seductively. “I knew it! You want me, don’t you, Damon?”

  What Nadia failed to realize was that I—like the majority of straight men in the world—am naturally physically attracted to beautiful women. My man rising to attention had nothing to do with Nadia at that moment and everything to do with the fact that there was a beautiful naked female standing there in front of me. It was really no different than a porn-induced hard-on, period; a chick in one of those films might have sucked off and ridden a dozen brothers in one day and probably reeks like sweat and dried cum, but as soon as a man sees her naked ass, his dick responds whether he wants it to or not. It doesn’t mean he wants her, and it sure as hell doesn’t have anything to do with love. “I want you to…” I began, jerking her hand away from my body.

  Nadia’s eyes lit up.

  “I want you to stop thinking this is going to happen. We have a son,” I said. “That’s all—no more and no less.”

  The light that had illuminated her eyes just sec
onds earlier slowly dimmed, and an unflattering shade of red moved across her face. Her expression told me she was not only embarrassed but also pissed off. Nadia was silent as I walked past her and out the door.

  ***

  The next morning I stopped by Nadia’s suite to say goodbye to Donovan. I was greeted at the front door by María.

  “Good morning,” she said with a smile.

  “Good morning, María.” I entered the suite and scanned it with my eyes, corner to corner. Donovan was sitting Indian-style on the living room floor, wearing his SpongeBob pajamas and watching cartoons. I was relieved that there was no sign of Nadia, as I didn’t have the patience to deal with her. I placed my hand on top of Donovan’s curly locks and gently pulled his head back. “Hey, big man,” I greeted, then kissed him on the forehead.

  Donovan gave me approximately ten seconds of his attention, then turned his gaze back to the TV screen.

  “Would you like some coffee?” María asked me.

  “No thank you,” I said. “I have to go. I just wanted to see Donovan before I left.”

  “When will we see you again?” Nadia asked from behind me.

  I turned around to look at her; she looked like shit run over twice. Her hair was sticking out all over her head, and her eyes were bloody red. Too much liquor, I thought to myself. “I’m not sure at the moment,” I said honestly. I knew if I made my visits regular weekend events, problems would arise with my real family, and I wasn’t about to take any chances.

  “Well, what is DJ supposed to do?” Nadia snapped. Clearly, she’d developed an attitude in an instant, and I could tell she was ready to argue.

  I, on the other hand, was not in the mood for her tantrums and had no intention of listening to her rant.

  María quickly moved over to Donovan, took him by the hand, and led him out of the room. I concluded she was used to Nadia’s melodramatic bullshit.

  “Donovan will be fine,” I told her. “I’ll call him, and I’ll make a trip out to L.A. as soon as I can.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” I said, cutting her off. “This is how it’s going to be for now. I’ll call you tomorrow, before I head back home.” I stopped at the front door, pausing to look at her. I wanted to make sure she understood where we stood.

  Nadia’s expression told me she was not happy with my response to her question, but at that moment, I was too tired to give a damn.

  “Expect a package in the mail in a couple of days,” I told her.

  “What kind of package?” she asked sourly.

  “A credit card,” I advised her. I had already made preparations and ordered an additional American Express card for Nadia under one of my corporate accounts. I knew Donovan had needs, and as his daddy, I was responsible for supplying them. The account was one I rarely used but I kept open in the event that I needed to handle some private business. It was in my name, but I had Nadia added as an authorized user. I figured giving her the card would be less hassle than sending her a check every month, and that way, I wouldn’t have to worry about her calling me to ask for money.

  “A credit card?” Nadia’s mood appeared to lighten instantly at the thought of spendable plastic.

  I decided to defuse any bright ideas she had before her thoughts began to spiral out of control. “It’s to be used strictly for Donovan,” I ordered. “Do you understand?” I asked.

  “Of course, Damon,” she said nonchalantly. “I told you, I don’t need your money.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, “and you should remember that too.” I opened the hotel door and began to walk out, but then I turned to look at her again. “Please don’t make me regret this decision, Nadia.”

  ***

  I decided to pay my parents a visit. I needed to talk to someone, anyone who understood me without judgment, someone I could trust. That someone was my mother.

  “Two weekends in a row?” Mama purred, giving me a big hug. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked as she pulled away to look me over the way mothers always do.

  “Can’t a man visit his mama?” I asked lightly.

  “Of course you can,” she said sweetly. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, I’m good,” I said, “but thank you.”

  The two of us decided to sit on the balcony adjacent to the great room of my parents’ home.

  “Your father is going to hate that he missed you,” she said. “Again.”

  “Where is he today?” I asked.

  “He went out on the lake with some buddies of his,” Mama said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a monthly ritual.” Mama’s facial expression told me she did not approve of my father’s extracurricular activities, and that reaction surprised me somewhat. I had never known her to be concerned about my father having his own time or spending time with his colleagues and friends.

  “He worked hard for many years before he retired,” I told her. “I guess this is his time to relax and have a little fun.”

  “Fun?” she said, sucking on her teeth. “When grown men have too much fun, they find themselves in too much damn trouble.”

  I didn’t comment because I knew all too well that what she was saying was true. My one night of fun with Nadia had me wading in a sea of worry.

  Before I had time to respond, the smile on her face faded into a look of concern. Stroking my cheek with the tips of her fingers, Mama studied my expression. “Something is wrong,” she concluded.

  I wanted to tell her everything, but I had no idea where to start. Clearing my throat, I pondered how to let my mother know all the dirt that had been going on in my love life. “Have you ever kept a secret from Dad?” I finally asked.

  Laughing lightly, Mama nodded her head. “Of course I have, darling,” she said. “I’ve lied to him too. In fact,” she added, “every time he discovers something has been added to my wardrobe, I tell him I bought it last year.”

  “Not that kind of secret or lie,” I said, folding my hands together. “I’m talking about a life-altering secret that could possibly destroy what the two of you share, just break it in two—the kind of secret that requires you to calculate your every move and guard your every word,” I said, exhaling lightly.

  Mama looked at me in silence, her gray eyes wide with what I felt was concern and curiosity.

  “We all have something in our past that we may deem as being unnecessary information for our present,” she said. “However, it is up to each of us to decide if withholding that information will have a devastating impact on our future.”

  I pondered her words.

  “Is there something you would like to tell me?” she asked, crossing her legs.

  Leaning forward in my chair, I paused briefly. “I—”

  “Excuse me, madam,” said Isabella, my parents’ maid, stepping onto the balcony. Isabella had worked for them for years, and she had more privileges and perks than any maid I’ve ever met. When my mother went shopping, she always bought Isabella something, and every year Mama treated her to an all-expense-paid vacation. In my eyes and my parents’, Isabella was more family than hired help.

  “Yes, Isabella?” Mama asked, still looking at me.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Isabella said, “but you have a visitor.” I watched as Isabella raised her eyebrows at Mama.

  Mama instantly rose to her feet, as if the two of them had shared some kind of telepathic message. “Excuse me, DJ,” Mama said, kissing me on the cheek. “This will only take a moment.”

  I wondered who could have been at the door and why it required my mother’s urgent departure. I sat on the balcony alone for a few seconds until my stomach began to growl and I decided to raid my parents’ refrigerator. I was making my way through the great room when I heard my mother’s voice.

  “How dare you come to my home!”

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you would have returned my calls!”

  I wanted to drive my fist through a wall when I heard Nadia’s voice. What the hell is she doing here? M
y heart pounded fiercely as I marched to the front door.

  “Stay away from Damon,” Mama snapped.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked, stepping up beside Mama. Nadia stood on the steps of my parents’ home, looking like a mouse caught in the talons of a hawk. I noticed she was holding a check in her hand. I stared at her, silently letting her know that she had committed the ultimate fuck-up by coming to my parents’ home.

  “Nothing, Damon darling,” Mama said quickly. “Nadia and I were just—”

  “I need to speak with Nadia in private,” I said, cutting her off.

  “Damon, there is no need for that,” Mama said. “Nadia was just leaving.”

  “I know she is,” I said, stepping past my mother, “but I need to speak with her alone before she goes.” Before Mama could protest, I had my hand wrapped around Nadia’s arm, marching her toward the driveway where she had parked her rental car.

  “Damon, you’re hurting me,” Nadia whined as I pulled her along with me.

  I stepped around the driver side of the Honda Accord and pushed her against the door. I knew I was being rough with her, but any desire I had to be a gentleman flew out the window when I saw her standing face to face with my mother. Shooting my eyes toward the door where Mama was still standing, I waited until I saw her shut the door, leaving Nadia and me alone. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, redirecting my eyes and all of my anger at Nadia.

  “I-I…” she stuttered.

  I had forgotten all about the check until Nadia began fidgeting with her hand, which she held tightly at her side. Reaching down, I snatched the check from her hand before she could blink twice. The check was one of my mother’s, made out to Nadia in the sum of $50,000. I grabbed her by the neck and pressed my palm firmly against her throat, squeezing tightly. “What in the hell is this?!” I asked.