by Shelly Ellis
Evan leaned back in his desk chair and pursed his lips. “Are we really doing this? Are you really trying to pick a fight with me knowing all the shit that I have on my plate right now, Lee?”
At those words, she felt her first pang of guilt, but she told herself not to back down. They needed to do this. For the sake of their marriage, she had to do this.
“I’m not . . . I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just telling you that—”
“That I’m ignoring you? That I’m not giving you enough time and attention?” he finished for her. He now looked just as angry as she felt. He shoved his laptop aside and shot to his feet. “Lee, in two and half months, I’m going on trial for attempted murder. You hear that? Attempted murder!”
“I know that, Evan!”
“And my company is falling apart. So I’m sorry that I can’t wine and dine you and take you out to dinner! I’m sorry I can’t—”
“Dammit, that’s not what I’m saying and you know it!” She slammed the study door behind her and marched toward his desk, so frustrated that she could punch him. She set the baby monitor on the edge of his desk, stood squarely in front of Evan, and glared up at him. “I’m not asking you to take me to a fucking restaurant. I’m not even going to bring up the fact that we haven’t made love in . . . in weeks!”
“You just did,” he said tightly.
“I’m asking you to talk to me, Ev! Just talk to me! That’s what married couples do. That’s what best friends do. You’re supposed to confide in me! I’m supposed to be the one that you turn to at times like this! But instead, you’re shutting me out—literally! You keep leaving a door between us, and I don’t . . .” Her eyes flooded with tears. Her throat went dry. “I don’t know why.”
Evan grimaced. All the anger had left his face. He slowly shook his head. “I’m not trying to shut you out, baby. I’m just trying to handle this the best way I know how. I’m trying to set this right. I hate that I’ve dragged you and the girls into this mess as much as I already have. This isn’t the life I wanted for us!”
“You didn’t drag me into anything. I wanted to be here,” she whispered, raising her hand to his cheek. She trailed her thumb over his bottom lip. She was openly crying now. “I love you! Where you go, I go. That’s what you told me, right? I want to be with you. I want to help you any way I can.”
She then stood on the balls of her feet and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and fiercely kissed her back. She sank into him, longing for his warmth and his touch, missing the sensation of his full lips against her own and his tongue inside her mouth. She wrenched her lips away, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gazed lovingly into her husband’s eyes.
“I told you before that I’m not a china doll, Evan Murdoch. I guess I’ll have to show you again that I won’t break,” she said with an alluring smile before rubbing her pelvis against his groin and raising her mouth back to his.
The second kiss was even deeper. The longing Leila felt was quickly replaced with overwhelming desire, one that left her panting and tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt. It left her fumbling as she frantically pulled down the zipper of his slacks.
Evan was just as eager. It was as if she had awakened a spark inside him that had been dormant for a while, but it was a raging fire tonight.
He undid the belt of her robe and ripped the panels open before lifting her and lowering her back onto his desk. As he did, the folders and stacks of papers he had been meticulously examining only minutes earlier all tumbled to the study floor in a raining flutter like New Year’s Eve confetti. He shoved her nightgown up her calves, then her thighs, and finally to her waist. As he did it, she wrenched her arms out of the robe sleeves and tore the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, eagerly baring her breasts to him.
He stood between her legs and cradled one of her breasts, toying with the dark, hardened nipple before hungrily kissing her again. Leila wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close as their tongues danced, feeling his erection press against the crotch of her panties. She pressed her breast into his hand. He raised his other hand to her chin and slowly ran his thumb over her bottom lip, and she took it into her mouth. She sucked on his finger before biting down on it hard.
“Oww,” he said, tugging his hand back. “What was that about?”
“Punishment for making me wait so long to have you,” she whispered saucily before kissing him again, flicking her tongue along the rim of his mouth.
Leila was not only flooded with carnal delight at having her man back in her arms, but also memories. This moment reminded her of when her love affair with Evan began, when he was still trapped in an empty, name-only marriage to Charisse and she was recovering from the heartbreak of failed marriage and impending divorce from Bradley, when Evan was her boss and she was his assistant at Murdoch Conglomerated. They would wait until after most of the twelfth floor had cleared out for the day and make love on his office sofa or his conference table or his desk. She’d try futilely to stifle her moans and shouts, but ended up yelling out his name despite her best efforts. But it wasn’t just those nightly trysts that she had longed for but the love and reassurance she felt when she was with him. They had sought solace in each other’s arms and found strength in each other’s embrace. Her recollections of those clandestine nights would never fade.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” she now whispered against his lips as he shifted the crotch of her panties aside.
He rubbed her between her legs, making her grow wet. She closed her eyes, threw back her head, and groaned. He massaged her clit with slow, steady strokes, and she urged him onward by leaning back and arching her hips. He then pulled his hand away, and her eyes flashed open.
“I missed you, too,” he said as he lowered the waistband of his boxer briefs. He pulled out his manhood, centered himself between her legs, and entered her with one swift thrust that made her shout out in the cavernous study.
Leila unwound her arms from around his neck and grabbed the edge of the mahogany desk to brace herself as he plunged into her over and over again. He steadied her by holding her ass and her hips. As the rhythm of their lovemaking increased, Evan’s grunts grew more guttural and her tortured moans turned into yells. After a few minutes, she couldn’t match the tempo anymore. She couldn’t brace herself so she fell back against the desk and let him take over. He continued at the same fervent pace, unheeded.
“Oh, God! Oh, God!” she yelled as the tremors overtook her. Her back arched. Her legs tightened around him before going slack.
He shouted out her name and collapsed on her a minute later, and she cradled him close, staring at the coffered ceiling with a contented smile on her face.
Just then she heard Angelica wail on the monitor, and she sighed.
“Sounds like somebody’s awake,” she said, patting Evan on the back. “I have to head back upstairs to get her.”
He raised his head and pushed himself off of her. “I can help.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, pulling the straps of her nightgown back on.
He nodded and raised his pants back to his waist. “The work will still be here tomorrow. I can head to bed.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “It’s good to have you back, baby,” she whispered.
He smiled. “It’s good to be back.”
Chapter 17
Paulette
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, filling the living room with their shouts. “Happy birthday to Nathan! Happy birthday to you!”
“Now blow out the candle, honey,” Paulette cooed as the room fell silent with the exception of a few toots from noisemakers.
Paulette stood on one side of her son. Antonio stood on the other, holding up his cell phone and making a video of the joyous occasion. They were surrounded by both friends and family who were sprawled on the living room sofa and loveseat. A few stood near the windows.
“Go on! Blow out the candle,”
Paulette urged again.
Nathan turned in his high chair and stared at his mother blankly.
“Okay, Mommy will help you.” She then leaned forward, holding back her long hair over one shoulder. She blew out the solitary candle on the cake, making all those in the room break into applause.
Not to be outdone, Nathan plunged face-first into his toy train birthday cake. Everyone in the room burst into laughter. He gave a triumphant grin that his father promptly caught on camera.
Reina rushed across the living room with napkins in hand. “Oh, poor baby! Just look at this mess!”
“Babies make messes,” Miss Claudia said, stepping forward and wiping gobs of icing and cake from Nathan’s face, chest, and hands with a paper towel. “He’ll survive.”
The gesture and her words stopped Reina in her tracks. The older woman drew herself up to her full height and glared at Miss Claudia. Paulette stood back, hiding her smile, amused for once to not be the one battling it out with Reina.
“Well, where I come from we don’t let babies roll around getting filthy like hogs in a pen,” Reina snapped.
“And where I come from, we don’t, either,” Miss Claudia replied, cocking an eyebrow at Reina, not looking remotely intimidated, “which is why I’m gonna take this beautiful baby upstairs to wash up and change his clothes.” She paused to turn and look at Paulette. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”
Paulette nodded. “It’s perfectly fine, Miss Claudia. Go right ahead.”
With that, Miss Claudia undid the straps on Nathan’s high chair. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey,” she said before kissing his plump cheek and ushering him out the living room and toward the stairs.
“Humph,” Reina breathed through her flared nostrils while dropping her hands to her wide hips. Her eyes followed Nathan and Miss Claudia as the duo climbed the stairs to the second floor. “So just who is the mother around here, I ask you!”
“Mama,” Antonio whispered in a beseeching voice as he removed the party hat from his head, “come on. Don’t start this today!”
“No, Tony, the way that woman is acting, you’d think that she was Nate’s mother. Not this one over here!” She pointed at Paulette with a derisive sneer. “You better watch out—or that woman is going to take over.”
“Jealousy doesn’t become you, Reina,” Paulette said with a chuckle as she removed what was left of Nathan’s cake from his plastic tray.
Luckily, she had another cake waiting in the kitchen for the rest of the partygoers to sample.
“Oh, it’s funny now!” Reina shouted, making Antonio groan. “But it won’t be funny when that boy starts calling her ‘mama’!”
Paulette headed to the kitchen, ignoring Reina’s baiting.
She didn’t care what Reina said—she liked Miss Claudia, and Nathan liked her, too. Paulette no longer felt like she was on the verge of going crazy from being stuck at home with the baby all day. She now got a few coveted hours of alone time per week to center herself. She could work out at the gym or go shopping for a few hours unhindered by a wailing infant, a diaper bag, and a stroller. She would return home to a babbling baby and a nanny who had already made lunch and cleaned the living room and kitchen.
Paulette’s good mood and new outlook had done wonders for her and Antonio’s marriage. They were intimate at least three times a week now—something that Antonio definitely loved.
Miss Claudia was a godsend! Paulette could understand why someone like Reina would be easily intimidated by her, but Miss Claudia was here to stay. She didn’t care what Reina said.
Paulette lowered the cake plate into the sink and then headed to the counter where an identical cake sat, waiting to be sliced.
“Hey, sis, where should I put this?” Terrence asked as he poked his head through the doorway.
“Put what?”
“This!” He held up the platter covered with the cupcakes that Reina had brought to the party.
Paulette shook her head. “I told her she didn’t have to bring those. I had it covered.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too, but your mother-in-law cornered me while Tony was doing something else, I guess. I got explicit instructions from her to give this to you and make sure everyone at the party got at least one. She said she didn’t care that you already had a cake.”
Paulette closed her eyes. Reina just would not let up, but Paulette refused to let anything dampen her mood today.
“Thanks, Terry. You can sit it down over there.” She inclined her head in direction of the cluttered kitchen table.
“No prob.” Terrence elbowed aside a jar of jelly beans and stack of plastic cups so that he could set down the platter while she opened a nearby drawer and removed a knife to cut the birthday cake.
“Can you grab some plates for me, too, Terry? They’re in the cabinet by the window.”
He nodded before reaching up to open the cabinet and pull out a stack of ceramic plates.
“I can’t believe Little Nate is already one year old!” Terrence mused as he walked toward her and set the plates on the counter at her elbow. “It seems like he was born just yesterday. Time went by so fast.”
Paulette smiled wistfully. “If you feel like it went fast for you, imagine how it feels for me. I remember giving birth to him like it happened just yesterday! Now he’s already toddling around the living room. It’s only been a year, but I can’t imagine my life without him. I love him so much!”
“I know you do.” He leaned on the counter and watched as she began to cut into the cake and place a slice on each plate. “I see you and Tony with Little Nate and it makes me think about having kids with C. J. someday . . . something I never would’ve considered a couple of years ago.”
Paulette paused midway in licking blue icing off her thumb.
“I’ve started imagining myself pushing a stroller and changing diapers and it doesn’t . . . it doesn’t scare me anymore, you know,” he confided, reaching for one of the cake plates and a fork. “I never really wanted to be a dad because I didn’t think it was me . . . that I could handle that type of thing. But I can see it with her. It doesn’t seem so scary anymore.”
Paulette hesitated. She didn’t want to broach the topic of Terrence’s engagement, especially because she believed in her heart that her brother was making a big mistake by marrying this girl. She didn’t want to start a fight with her brother, either, which she knew would happen if she told him how she really felt. Today was her son’s first birthday party. This was not the time for such a weighty discussion. But then Paulette considered that she rarely if ever had time alone with Terrence anymore. Now was probably as good a time as any to talk to him. And maybe he wouldn’t be as hostile to her advice as she suspected. Maybe he’d realize she was coming from a good place.
“Terry,” she began, “are you really sure you’re . . . you’re ready for . . . all of this?”
He chuckled as he shoved a piece of cake into his mouth. “Well, maybe not completely, but we’re not talking about having kids tomorrow,” he said between chews. “We’ve got time.”
“No, I mean . . . I mean do you really think you’re ready to get married?”
He lowered the fork from his mouth. “I hope so, since we’re supposed to do that shit in four weeks!”
Paulette set aside the knife she held. Terrence liked to joke and be casual about everything, but she wouldn’t let his easygoing attitude make her shy away from telling him the truth. Not today. She turned to face her brother.
“Look, Terry,” she said, placing a soothing hand on his forearm, “all I want is for you to be happy. I want you to find the right person and settle down someday. But . . .” Her words drifted off.
“But what?” he asked, furrowing his brows.
“I just . . . I just don’t think this is the right time for . . . for you to get married.”
The kitchen fell silent. The furrow only deepened in Terrence’s brow.
“Why don’t you think it’s the right time fo
r me to get married?”
“Because you’ve only known C. J. for about a year—and you guys have already broken up once!”
He shrugged. “So what? People break up then get back together. Plenty of couples do it. It doesn’t mean a damn thing!”
“Yes, it does mean something! It means that you guys could just as easily break up again a few months from now, but by then, you’ll be legally married and financially shackled to this girl! I mean . . . are you even making her sign a prenup?”
His face twisted as he snatched his arm out of her grasp. “Why in the hell would I make her sign a prenup?”
“Because it would be irresponsible not to! Especially when you’re worth millions of dollars.”
“Irresponsible?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you make Tony sign one?”
“No . . . but Tony didn’t lie to me like she lied to you.”
“She never lied to me!” he boomed.
Paulette immediately brought a finger to her lips and made a shushing motion.
“No! Hell no! Don’t try to quiet me down when you’re lying about my girl like that! This shit is out of line, Paulette!”
“You know damn well that I’m not lying! She didn’t tell you when she first met you that she wrote all those stories about Evan or the family company.”
“Because none of that shit mattered!”
“She didn’t tell you about that day she lied to try to interview you at the hospital after your accident! How can you just shrug that off? How do you know she’s being totally honest with you now? Just be smart about this! That’s all I’m saying!”
“I don’t think you’re one to give relationship advice, okay? And you sure as hell don’t have any room to talk about honesty! Don’t project your fucked up marriage shit onto my relationship with C. J., okay?”
She flinched. Terrence knew about the trials and tribulations she and Antonio had endured in their marriage, how they had come close to the edge more than once.
“Have you always been honest with your husband?” he charged, dropping his cake plate into her farm sink with a clatter. “Has he always been straight up with you? Hell, no! So don’t go lecturing people about telling the truth, all right, Miss Perfect?”