“You need pampering. It’ll relieve your stress,” Trinity stated, sitting in one of the tall chairs. She crossed her legs, leaned back. “Be sure to text me when you arrive at brunch, at the spa, and when you’re on your way home. And turn on your location for me.”
Trinity hadn’t worked a day after Monet gave birth to Israel. Having her mother help raise the girls was a blessing, but the older Israel and Nairobi became, the less Trinity did with and for them. Trinity claimed she dated, definitely never married, but she’d never brought a man around Monet or the kids. Monet never met anyone on her father’s side of the family, including her dad. All she knew was his name. John Bernard Baptiste.
Israel and Nairobi raced down the stairs and hugged their mother at the same time.
Stepping back, Israel said, “Mommy, let me take a picture for my ’gram,” holding up her phone.
Nairobi’s face drooped. “When is Daddy sending my cell phone? I need it,” she whined. “I’m the only one in my class without social.”
Monet hadn’t verified that, but Nairobi was probably being truthful. Was it better to give in or continue to try to protect her daughter from online predators? Nairobi probably had a page, just not a cell.
Trinity answered, “You can have one in—”
“Three more years!” Nairobi cried. “That’s a lifetime. Why am I the only one at my school without a cell and social media page?”
Monet’s ponytail swayed, side to side. Israel snapped a head-to-toe picture of their mother, then handed Nairobi the cell. “Here, let me teach you how to post it with a caption.”
Nairobi’s frown turned upward. Her eyes beamed bright. “Mommy, I want to look just like you when I grow up. And I want a rich husband like Daddy. And I want you to treat my two daughters just like Grandma takes care of us.”
Monet stroked the top of Nairobi’s head, thinking how innocent her children were. Being the wife of a celebrity athlete was a step away from single parenting. Having an expensive home, multiple cars, designer clothes, and expensive jewelry had been a trade-off for her husband’s time and affection. Especially now when he was investing his energy elsewhere.
“Go get dressed, girls. The driver will be here in a half hour. We’re going to the Smithsonian to meet Ruth Carter,” Trinity said.
Nairobi’s pink painted nails covered her innocent face as she gasped. “She’s my idol. I want to design costumes like her. I’m going to bring my sketchbook. I hope she’ll sign it, Grandma.”
Israel’s smile couldn’t possibly grow wider. “I love her, too! I have lots of questions for her. Thanks, Grandma!”
Racing up the stairs, the girls screeched.
Standing, Trinity reiterated, “You look beautiful, baby. Refrain from calling Kingston. And if he calls you, don’t answer. This is your day. Be in the moment with your girlfriends.” Her mother held her tight. “I love you so much.”
Girlfriend, Monet said in her head. She didn’t know the others. They were Bianca’s friends. Embracing her mother, Monet said, “I love you more.”
Exiting the house, she sat behind the wheel of her Porsche SUV. Monet drove toward B-W Parkway. She commanded Siri, “Call Daddy.”
“Hey, baby, I just unlocked my phone to call you. How’s everybody?” Kingston asked.
“Great. Mama’s at home with the girls. They’re getting ready to meet Ruth Carter and I’m heading to brunch with Bianca and a few of her girlfriends.”
Bianca knew her better than Kingston.
“That’s what’s up. Pick up the tab for everything . . . on me,” he said cheerfully, then hesitated before adding, “Let me call you—”
Monet interrupted, “Wait. The kids want to send you something they made. What hotel are you at?” Monet asked nonchalantly.
“I switched to an Airbnb. Got tired of living in one room. Hold the gift for me. I’ll be home soon,” Kingston insisted.
“How soon?” Monet questioned, then asked, “Are you looking at houses for us today?”
“Of course. I’m meeting Lilly at her office at one o’clock. I’ll FaceTime you from the properties,” Kingston stated. “Oh, that’s right. You’re hanging with your girls. Don’t let me make you late. I’ll keep you posted. Let me call you—”
“I’m sure Lilly Ortiz is doing her job.” His lies weren’t worth acknowledging.
No reservation or hesitation. Kingston answered, “Cool,” as though he was relieved, but his response didn’t apply to her last statement.
“Okay, baby. I love you.” Before Monet could say “Bye,” Kingston ended their conversation.
Monet altered her destination, daily parked at BWI, and texted her travel agent, Book me on the next direct flight to Hartsfield. Her next message went to her personal assistant: Get me ALL contact information for Kingston’s Realtor, Lilly Ortiz, in Atlanta. The last was for Bianca: Change of plan. Will explain later. Don’t contact my mom.
By the time Monet arrived at check-in, her reservation was confirmed. Monet breezed through TSA PreCheck, boarded her first-class nonstop flight to Atlanta. Awaiting takeoff, she logged into their Airbnb account. There was no reservation for Kingston.
Signing into their travel account, he’d checked out of the Waldorf Astoria days ago. No new reservation was listed for the Four Seasons, W, Ritz-Carlton, or Whitley for Kingston Royale.
Monet’s ten o’clock flight was scheduled to land at noon. A message from her assistant with the office address for Lilly Ortiz registered, along with Lilly’s home location and two cell numbers.
Monet’s arrival should put Kingston and her at Lilly’s business suite at the same time.
CHAPTER 9
Kingston
A text registered from Lilly: Monet showed up at my office unannounced. What do you want me to do?
Lying on his back, Kingston stared at his phone. He’d picked it up to check the time, and now his wife had the potential to ruin the moment. Hold tight. That can’t be right, he replied.
An attached photo was returned of Monet in a red jumpsuit wearing diamond hoop earrings he hadn’t seen. If he had to identify his wife or kids by the last thing they were wearing, Kingston didn’t see them often enough to know what was in their wardrobe collection or how they dressed daily.
It wasn’t his fault that his appetite for men had increased. “Hold tight, man. I have to handle something,” he said to his naked lover, who was lying beside him.
If he could erase the day he’d stepped into the janitor’s closet, perhaps he would’ve never been on BottomsUp. Maybe if his parents weren’t devoted Christians, or the hometown pastor hadn’t made him believe gay people were going to hell, then telling his truth would’ve been easier.
Why would it be that Monet was in Atlanta? He’d spoken with his wife a couple of hours ago. Kingston texted Lilly, Show her the door!!
If she walks out of mine, she’s going to knock on yours, Lilly answered.
What the hell? Out of all the years he’d been married, Monet never popped up on him.
Kingston messaged Bianca, I can’t reach Monet. I called her four times. Is she with you? He copied, then pasted the same inquiry to Trinity, adding, Did you tell Monet where I’m staying? Lilly and Trinity were the only two with the address to his Airbnb.
Lilly replied, She knows. Or at least that’s what she said.
Why the fuck did you tell her where I’m at! Kingston texted Lilly.
I didn’t! Lilly replied.
Then the only other person he trusted had betrayed him. If Trinity had given Monet his location, then she might have told her daughter the real reason he was in Atlanta. Setting him up for divorce would free Monet and Trinity. He didn’t care as much about that. But Monet leaving him with half of everything wasn’t happening. Adultery was a reason for an automatic divorce in Georgia, but it generally worked in favor of the husband. She’d probably gain more than half if Trinity told the lawyer he was gay.
What was Monet trying to prove? Kingston got out of bed, t
old Levi, “I have unexpected company in town. Thanks for not outing me on Sunday at the bar.”
“No problem. Holding secrets is part of my job. That, and we’re living in the same glass house, my brother. Being in a relationship keeps the females interested. But don’t get me wrong. I’ll hit Queen’s pussy every now and again to see”—he paused, held his dick—“if my man here is still interested.”
That was wrong of Levi when he knew he didn’t want a real commitment of any kind.
“Who told you about me?” Kingston asked.
“Confidential. But if you’re looking for a conservative app to explore prospects, check out VirginsSeekingVirgins. It’s for professionals like ourselves. No one posts pictures of themselves. If you like a guy, you make an arrangement to meet up. And stop taking your ass over there on Cheshire Bridge Road. Nothing good comes out over there. Literally.”
It was convenient. Quick. Like a drive-thru. Long as he didn’t linger, Kingston believed he’d be okay with the quickies.
Kingston bit his bottom lip. Stared at Levi’s long, flaccid penis. “Why do you stay with Queen?”
“She does any- and everything for me.” Levi put on his socks first. “What man doesn’t want a live-in maid?”
“And if she found out you go both ways? Then what?” Kingston had no intentions of coming out to Monet. And he didn’t want to be that dude who got caught naked in bed with a man doing things God intended for husband and wife.
Trinity’s message registered: Monet is okay. You concentrate on getting it out of your system so you can find us a new place to live. You good?
“You don’t get it,” Levi said. “If she left me, for any reason, her replacement is already in the lineup. Lots of females in the ATL don’t care about bisexuality. They eat more pussy than me.”
That isn’t hard to do, Kingston thought, then laughed. “You’re the one who don’t understand. If Monet walks, she’ll cash out with twenty-five million dollars.”
Levi stumbled as he put on his slacks. Hopping on one foot, he nearly fell to the floor. Regaining his balance, he sat on the edge of the bed, slipped on his shoes, then buttoned up his shirt. “Never tell anybody else that shit. And never fuck a man or woman who has nothing to lose. This town ain’t for everybody, but they all moving here. See you at the bar Sunday. I’ll let myself out.”
Kingston, what’s up? I’m not babysitting a grown-ass woman!
Ignoring Lilly’s text, Kingston sat on the side of the bed and stared down at his limp dick, wondering why God gave man built-in temptation. He logged into his phone. Downloaded the app for VirginsSeekingVirgins, wondering if Theodore had a profile.
Will the little boy inside of me ever come out of the closet? Kingston wondered if Langston Derby was gay, bi, or straight.
I just put your bitch out of my office.
Kingston replied that was good, then messaged Trinity: I need a new Airbnb. Now.
CHAPTER 10
Victoria
Fresh out of a steamy shower, Victoria prepared to make herself squirt.
After spreading a disposable water-resistant pad atop her comforter, she lit a lavender-scented soy candle, which was on the dresser, then dimmed the lights.
Placing her pink Luxe Replenish 7-Function and Precious Metal Slim-10 on the bed, Victoria reclined flat on her back. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled, repeating her breathing pattern three times.
Victoria powered both stimulators to her preferred vibration; then she returned her breath to normal. Gapping her thighs as her legs remained flushed against the bed, she inserted the metal Slim-10 into her vagina just beyond her G-spot, then left it there. She didn’t squeeze her muscles to hold it in; no, she simply relaxed.
Teasing her clit with the Replenish 7, Victoria closed her eyes and enjoyed the dual action that pleased her. Moving the Replenish to the upper right inner labia, she felt a cool waterlike sensation flow throughout her vulva. The upper right inside of her labia majora was her most sensitive spot.
As the excitement heightened inside of her, Victoria took a deep breath, exhaled, and relaxed. The urge to push grew more pressing, but she wasn’t ready to squirt. Not yet. She lifted the Replenish vibrator away from her vulva area, waited a few seconds, took a few deep breaths, then resumed pleasuring her clitoris.
The Slim-10 buzzed nonstop inside of her vagina. When the device slid out a little, Victoria pushed it back in. Repositioning the Replenish toy to her favorite spot, she began stroking up and down along her inner labia. This time the vibration brought her closer to squirting, giving her a stronger urge to push, as though she were mimicking giving birth.
Relaxing, she lifted the Replenish again. Reconnecting to the spot that gave her that coolest sensation, Victoria heaved, pushing lightly from her belly. She relaxed, then heaved again. This time she felt the fluid leak from her urethra indicating it was time. She inhaled. Bent her knees. On the exhale of the third heave, Victoria pushed as hard as she could.
The Slim-10 ejected from her vagina. Ejaculate fluid shot in the air and came showering down all over her body and the water-resistant pad. The sensation was a gratifying release that was different from the screaming orgasmic climax that she only achieved with younger men or by herself. The days of Willy making her cum were long gone, but thanks to the Lord, her God, she didn’t need a man to make herself squirt and cum at the same time.
Victoria tossed the pad in the trash, showered, stroked her hair into a wavy pattern with a wide-tooth comb. Slipping into a floral summer sundress and comfortable heels, she headed to Pap-padeaux’s for lunch.
* * *
Soon as she sat at the bar, she heard, “Give her whatever she wants, Jerome, on me.” The gentleman sat next to Victoria and spoke to the mixologist. “I’m picking up to-go today, man.”
“Feeding the staff again?” Jerome asked, then said, “Hey, Victoria. Long time, no see. How’s the real estate business?”
“I appreciate my people,” the guy replied.
“You a good dude, Noel,” Jerome complimented.
Hmm. Looking straight ahead toward the opposite side of the bar, Victoria scanned Noel’s body out of her peripheral. “Business is great, Jerome,” she answered.
Young. Handsome. Light complexion. Slim with a flat stomach. And his cologne was manly. Inviting. Not cheap. Noel’s pheromones were strong enough to engage more than her intellect.
Though Noel sat on the edge of his seat, his feet barely touched the floor. Victoria didn’t care about his height. In bed the length of a man’s frame wasn’t what mattered most.
Incoming call was announced on her Bluetooth. Victoria pushed the button to accept the call.
“Make sure you put in your order,” Noel said.
Victoria nodded at him, pointed toward the Bluetooth in her ear. “Hey, I was getting ready to text you. I’ll meet you at 15555, then we can drive over to 29411. Based on the neighborhood, both properties are good short-term investments if the acquisition price is right. Hold on for a sec.”
Jerome set her usual cocktail, a frozen Swamp Thang, in front of Victoria, then smiled at her.
Placing her phone on mute, Victoria said, “Thanks, Jerome. I’d like to have the fondue pot, and the alligator bites with an order of fries.”
“Hey, Jerome,” Noel said, “put everything she’s having on my tab.”
“I got that the first time. Your to-go should be up in a minute,” Jerome said, then asked Victoria, “Bread pudding to go. Ice cream for here?”
Unmuting her phone, Victoria nodded, then confirmed with her client. “I’ll meet you at 15555 at one o’clock. I’ve got to catch this call. Bye.”
There was no incoming call. Lying was her polite way of ending a business call. That, and her tactic always made her appear busy. Indulging her unsolicited sponsor, Victoria said, “Thanks for your generosity.”
Quickly she confirmed her date with Henry inside the app TuitionCougars: See you at 4:00 p.m. Then she sent hi
m her address. She’d bantered back and forth with the twenty-three-year-old for two days. It was time to see how much he was worth to her.
“Are you available tonight?” Noel asked.
His confidence intrigued her. “Depends on why you’re asking.”
Noel followed up with, “You like jazz and live music?”
His spirit was good. Jerome was familiar with the young man. Noel had a staff, which meant he owned a business. “Yes,” she replied.
“Pick you up at nine-thirty,” Noel said.
Jerome placed Victoria’s fondue pot and alligator bites on the bar; then he placed three large to-go bags in front of Noel.
“Jerome, my man. I’ma need you to get those fries for my lady friend like right now. Make sure they’re hot,” Noel insisted.
Victoria sipped her icy drink. She smiled at Noel; then she slid her hand up his inner thigh. Oh, shit! she thought. His flaccid dick met her hand halfway.
Noel smiled.
Victoria did, too, on the inside. Short-and-long might not be bad. Maybe she was going about finding a younger man the wrong way. “Why don’t I give you my number and you text me the location. I’ll meet you there.”
“That works. See you tonight,” Noel said. Locking in Victoria’s number, he signed his tab, then handed Jerome a $20 bill. “Keep what you think you’re worth and give me back the rest.”
Jerome kept the money, tapped the bar. “See you tomorrow, man. Thanks.”
Impressed by Noel, Victoria sampled her food, got the leftovers and her dessert to take with her.
* * *
Touring both properties, she wrote an offer for both. Heading home, she showered, slipped into a red teddy, and waited for Henry.
Five minutes early, he buzzed from her gate.
“Park in the circular driveway,” she said.
Greeting him at the door—oh, how she did enjoy hugging his hard body. “Come in and take off all your clothes.”
Henry nervously laughed. “Wow. You don’t waste time.”
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