There was an art to giving fellatio. All that tantric shit she liked to read about had been put on display for the first time with me. She had made love to my dick with her mouth. Had praised it with her tongue as she’d French-kissed the head of it. She’d tickled the little ridge around the base of my head with her tongue. Alternated licking and sucking the head, until she caught me by surprise and swallowed my whole dick. No gags. No choking. Just swallowed, hummed, and massaged my balls until my toes were throwing gang signs. She did that until she felt me swell in her throat, and then she pulled back. I was coated with her slick saliva. The long, thick veins in my dick were pulsating so hard, it ached. She lifted me in her hand and stroked as she sloppily sucked my scrotum.
I was amazed at what she could do with her mouth. For a second, I got mad that she’d probably given that kind of pleasure to other men. Summer did what she did so well when it came to the art of fellatio that she turned herself on. She had an orgasm while she was pleasing me. There was something about this that was appealing not only physically but also mentally. She was nasty with it too. Begged me to fuck her face when she dropped her hands. She didn’t really have to say it, since I had already grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and had started to stroke in and out of her mouth. Didn’t take me long to come after that. She swallowed down any chance of us having kids.
“Well, I’m not going,” she huffed, bringing me back to the present.
I sighed and stood. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
“I would like you to come.”
“I would like you not to . . . at least not with him.”
“I’m not fucking Michael.”
“Sure,” she responded sassily.
“We’re really going to do this again, huh?” I asked her, knowing she was still feeling a bit angry and confused about the way she had acted last night.
She didn’t say anything right away. “Guess I’ll see you later, then,” she finally mumbled.
“Summer,” I called behind her as she walked away. “Summer. So you’re going to walk away from me like that?”
Her bedroom door slamming behind her was my answer. I finished getting dressed in silence. I still had a few things at her place, so I wouldn’t have to rush home and then back. I’d sent Michael a text telling him that both of us would be there for breakfast. He’d find me one person short when I showed up. I tried talking to Summer again, but she ignored me. Wouldn’t even open her door.
Thirty minutes later, I was sitting inside Highland Bakery on Highland Avenue. The usual early morning Saturday crowd had gathered. If you didn’t get there early, you were subjected to a long line that wrapped around the block. Luckily for me, Michael was already inside when I got there. I made more than a few people angry when I bypassed the line and headed inside. I could here there muffled grumbling as I went. I spotted Michael as soon as I walked in. He was on the phone and was sitting at the end of a long wooden bench, which was more like a banquette, right near the hostess stand. I could tell he was expecting Summer by the way he looked behind me to see if she was there. She wasn’t. I made my way through the long line of the people standing at the register and then over to him. He ended the phone call as I sat down across from him.
“Where’s the lady?” he asked me.
“She decided she didn’t want breakfast,” I lied.
“Ah, I see,” he said with a slick smirk. “You good this morning?”
“Never better. You?”
“Would be better if I had been with you and Summer last night, I’m sure.”
I chuckled and adjusted my pants. “Not too much happened.”
“I’m quite sure it was enough to put that stupid-ass grin on your face, though.”
“You’ll never know.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “Very overprotective of her, I see.”
“Nah. Just cautious about you.”
“It’s you she should be cautious about, no?” he asked and then took a sip of his coffee.
“Why me?”
“You’re the sneaky one.”
“I’ve always been honest with her. There is nothing about me she doesn’t know.”
“Except when it comes to me, right?”
I shook my head and leaned back a bit in my chair. “She knows about that now too.”
“Oh, I see.”
He looked around the place a bit. Flashed that million-dollar smile at a few women. Ignored the obviously gay males. We both spotted a few not so obvious gay men. One in a gold and purple Greek jacket couldn’t stop staring at us. For as hard as he pretended to be, I bet he could take dick like a pro. We gave head nods and predatory smiles. Then we both looked back at one another and laughed.
“Nothing’s changed with you, Michael,” I told him.
“You’re still the same, David,” he responded.
It felt good to be in that moment with him. Things had been a whole lot tenser the night before. I felt relaxed now. I didn’t know why. Maybe it had something to do with what Summer and I had shared. It could have been the fact that he and I needed that bit of calm to fix what had been broken between us.
“In some senses. Hard to find dudes these days who are serious about their health and their status,” I said.
“I feel you. You up on that, though?”
“What? Who? Him?” I asked, nodding my head in the Q-Dog’s direction.
“Naw, man. Your status. You know your status?”
“Always, my man. Nothing’s changed about that. I keep my dick clean.”
He nodded.
I asked, “What about you?”
“Always.”
“Why, if you ain’t cheating on Sadi?”
He’d walked right into that one. He knew it and laughed about it.
“I’ve never cheated on her. May have slipped, tripped, and accidently landed in some pussy, which I had to fight and struggle my way out of until I nutted, but I ain’t ever cheated, my nigga,” he explained, throwing slang in at the end that reminded me of us before the college degrees.
I cracked up laughing at my boy. That was Michael. He would always be right, even when he was wrong.
“So you fucking around on her?” I asked.
“You heard what I said.”
“Men too?”
“Nah. Never that. Not on my wife,” he said, looking at me with that slick smirk. “Unless it’s you.”
My heart slammed against my rib cage. Flashbacks of those hotel room stays played in 3-D before my eyes. We stared at each other in silence for a long while.
“We don’t want to travel down that road,” I finally said.
“Oh, but I do,” he assured me.
“Not doing that shit. You’re married to a woman who doesn’t know shit about that side of you. We’re not those kinds of niggas, remember?” I told him.
He licked his lips and leaned forward. “We’re still not. You’re safe. I know I can trust you this time around. You won’t tell. You won’t talk. You’re not a walking STD. Safe.”
The corner of my upper lip twitched. “Fuck you, Michael.”
“Trying to.”
“You came all the way here to see if we could fuck?”
He turned his lips down, gave a slight shrug. “Among other things,” he said and leaned back. “We did need to talk. I missed you . . . a bit. Missed the friends and lovers we used to be.”
As bad as I wanted to believe him, something in me called bullshit. Something else was going on that he wasn’t telling me about.
“I call bullshit, bruh.”
“Call it what you want. I’m just telling you what’s going on in my head.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“Not doing that to your wife and kids. Find another safe haven to fall into.”
Underneath the table, where no one could see, he placed his hand on my thigh. The muscles in my legs tensed. Dick stirred around in my boxer briefs. He knew what he was doing. Dangled that pie
ce of forbidden fruit like the snake-ass nigga he was, and dared me to take a bite.
“You know you want to,” he said to me.
“Maybe so, but I’ve learned not to always do what my dick tells me to.”
“More than your dick and body want this, David. Why deny it? You miss that connection we both had. It’s still there, and I know you feel it. It can’t be denied. Give in to it. We walk that thin gray line one more time, and then it’s over,” he said, tempting me.
“That’s the problem. It will never be that simple. It never has with us.”
“Things are different now. I have a wife and kids back home. Can’t be wild, reckless Mike anymore.”
I quirked a brow. What the hell did he call what he was doing, then? His hand was still on my thigh. Massaging it with a firmness that had me placing a hand over my dick to quell the sudden need to release the kraken. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck. Reached under the table to move his hand. At least I tried to, but he grabbed my wrist. I grabbed his in return. Two dominate males vying for that control. We had a lock on one another, the way warriors greeted each other with a handshake. The smirk left his face, and what was there was pure, adulterated temptation.
A shadow was cast over us. For a while I felt like his wife had caught us. Thought maybe she had followed her husband to Atlanta to see what he was really up to and had caught us both with our hands in a different kind of cookie jar. But no, his wife wasn’t looming over us. The threat of a summer torrential downpour of rain was, though.
Summer
He wasn’t answering his phone. My nerves were on edge. Why in the hell wouldn’t he answer his phone? For as long as David and I had been friends, he’d never ignored my calls. Even if he was in a meeting, he would answer his phone. Put it on speaker so I could hear what was going on. It was his way of letting me know he saw me, wasn’t ignoring me, but couldn’t talk at the moment. I would hang up and text an apology for calling in the middle of business. He would text me back, telling me we would talk as soon as he was done. He’d spoiled me.
So I couldn’t understand why when he was with Michael, he wouldn’t answer the phone. I knew where they were. He’d told me before he left. I hopped up, threw on a dress that was way too thin for the weather, put on some wedge sneakers, and grabbed my coat. I drove like I was nervous about the reason he wasn’t able to answer his phone. Almost rear-ended someone while sending David text messages, pissed that he wasn’t answering me. By the time I made it to Highland Bakery in Old Fourth Ward, I was jittery. I felt like I was walking on a cloud as I floated to the door.
I saw them holding hands under the table, though it was more like they had locked wrists, and I wondered if anyone had been paying attention. I paid close attention to the male in the purple and gold Greek letter jacket, who seemed to be fixated on the two of them. When I approached them, David looked up at me like he had been caught stealing.
“You’re not answering your phone,” was all I said to him.
He moved his hand from underneath the table, touched his slack pockets, and checked his jacket pockets. Then both he and Michael stood, still being the Southern gentlemen they were.
“I must have left it in my truck,” David said to me. “I put it on the charger and forgot to grab it.”
I hated that it seemed as if he had been so anxious to get to Michael that he had forgotten his phone. I felt Michael watching me, but I refused to look at him. No matter how much heat I felt while in his presence, I wouldn’t make eye contact with that man. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was finer than sin. Those waves on his head were perfect. He had on a pair of tan wing-tip dress shoes, khaki slacks, which strained against the muscles in his thighs when he sat back down, and a royal purple sweater that showcased all the time he spent in the gym. The way he was dressed, and that all-knowing smile he possessed, annoyed me. Not because of anything other than the fact that he looked too damn good dressed and looking that way.
I kept my eyes locked on David, which wasn’t all that much better. He too sat there looking like GQ should be calling. Those eyes and dimples called out to me. Those lips . . . When he licked his lips, I remembered what it felt like to have them on me. I almost . . . My legs almost gave out from under me.
I cleared my throat. David knew why I was really there, but he wouldn’t say anything in front of Michael. Wouldn’t embarrass me like I did him the night before. I was jealous. I had wanted to see if he had snuck off somewhere with Michael and had given in to the obvious attraction I knew was lingering between them.
“Nice of you to join us,” Michael said from the sidelines.
I made the mistake of turning to look at him. Jesus, why did I look at him? For the first time, in the natural light of the day, I noticed the color of his eyes. The color of honey lured me in like a moth to a flame. His dark skin and those honey-colored eyes forced my breathing to slow down. He noticed the visible change in me brought about by my newfound awareness, smirked, and then patted the spot beside him on the bench, offering me a seat. I wanted to sit beside David, but he was in the chair across from Michael. There was no empty chair beside him. Someone had taken it. The greedy-ass people of Old Fourth Ward had forced me to sit next to Michael by default. I looked at David. He nodded. I slowly took the seat being offered.
“Hungry?” Michael asked me.
I glanced at David, then back at his other best friend. “A little.” Michael’s scent was so mesmerizing that I wiped away the invisible sweat on my forehead.
“I ordered peanut butter French toast,” Michael informed me.
“Never tried it.”
“You’ll like it. Trust me.”
“If you say so.”
He chuckled. “I do.”
“I’m going to run to my truck and get my phone,” David said, chiming in.
Michael nodded. I looked at David. It was rare that he went anywhere without his phone, especially when he was working a case. Someone could call at any time to let him in on new leads or to give him the names of possible witnesses he could call to the stand.
“You going to be okay?” David asked me.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Once David was gone, Michael sipped his coffee. Placed an arm behind me on the wooden bench as he studied me.
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me as much as you did last night?” he asked after placing his coffee mug back on the table.
I gave a side eye and asked him, “What ever gave you that idea?”
“That mean side eye. And the fact that David finally told you the truth about us.”
“He said you’re not gay. Am I missing something?” I asked.
Since he’d opened the jack-in-the-box and shaken the eight ball, I was going to ask all the questions I could. I wanted to know what it was about the man that would make David hide their relationship from me. I glanced around at the crowd. Saw every race of people ATL had to offer. The low buzz of the other patrons didn’t seem to bother us, as we sat in our own world. I saw women gawking at Michael. They had eye fucked David, too, before he went outside, but it was Michael who demanded their attention just by being there. He sat there, looking regal. Back straight, shoulders broad. Sat like a true pharaoh. The pheromones he exuded were mind-numbing.
Michael cast a glance in my direction. “I’m not gay.”
“You have sex with men.”
“And women.”
“You’re gay,” I insisted.
“I’m not. Don’t label me. I hate labels.”
“It’s not a label. It’s what you are.”
“How the fuck you going to tell me who or what I am? I don’t answer to that label because you call me that.”
He was getting annoyed. I’d pushed a button I didn’t know existed. Some of the jealousy I was feeling started to turn into malice. I smirked.
“So what should I call you? Confused?” I asked to see how far I could push him.
He moved his arm from behind me, r
ubbed his big hands together, and leaned to the side to look at me.
“Do you call David confused?”
“David knows what he wants.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Did you ask him?”
“I don’t have to. He knows what he wants.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“And what does he want?”
I wouldn’t answer that question. If I answered that, then I would probably have to admit that David wanted both of us. Although he tried to play it cool, I could see the attraction between the two of them. It angered me, because I knew I couldn’t do anything about that. I would never be able to compete with that.
“We both know what he wants, right, Summer?” he asked me.
“Whatever, Michael.”
“I like the way you say my name. Say it again,” he demanded.
I gazed up into his eyes and inhaled his scent again. Worst thing I could have ever done. His tongue snaked out to lick his lips as they curved into a smile.
For a long while we stared at one another. I thought I’d pissed him off. Thought I’d gotten under his skin, but then he laughed. Laughed loud enough that people looked at us to see what was funny.
“You’re funny, Summer, and you’re trouble. You’re beautiful, funny, sexy, and trouble,” he said, then took another sip of his coffee, all the while keeping his eyes on me. “David, you didn’t tell me Summer was this much trouble,” he said, looking behind me.
I turned to see David walking back over to us. David thumbed his nose as he sat down, and glanced from me to Michael. David laid his phone on the table.
“Why do you say she’s trouble?” he asked Michael.
“Look at her,” he responded. “Any woman packing this much heat is trouble. No worries, though. I’ve always loved getting into trouble. . . .”
Michael let the end of his sentence trail off as he looked from me to David and then back to me. The insinuation was clear. He was so sure of himself that he’d already laid claim to my sex without even asking. The heat in his gaze was enough to knock the panties right off me. I could tell by the way David was observing us that he was trying to figure out what had gone down in his brief absence.
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