In silence, Joi put away the rest of the groceries, folded the reusable bags, and made sure everything was neat before she escaped into the family room and fell onto the couch. She picked up the remote control, and clicked on the television. Tyrese sat down close beside her and leaned in to kiss her on the neck.
“Stop it, Ty,” she grumbled, pushing him away.
“Joi, stop playing. You know you like that,” he said, flashing his knowing smile. When it came to sex, Joi never said no to her husband, but if he thought a little kiss on the neck would get him off the hook, he had another thing coming.
“Right now I don’t,” she shouted.
“I don’t know why you’re tripping. I’ll be up there in less than forty-eight hours.”
“Do you want to know why I’m tripping? Every year you do the same shit. You promised me last year you wouldn’t do it again.” Her eyes filled with tears. Out of control, she kept going. “How is it that my brother plays in the NBA and he can manage to leave with his family, but you can’t?” The look on Ty’s face made her want to take back her last words. His NBA career had been shattered by a knee injury and he was very sensitive about that.
He stared at her with a strange look in his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone icy. “It’s my job to take care of you and to put food on the table, and in order to do that I have to go to work.”
“I have been listening to you,” Joi interrupted. “I’ve listened to you nonstop this entire marriage.” She stared at him accusingly. “You made a promise to me that we’d go on this camping trip together.”
Tears began to fall down her cheeks and Tyrese pulled her into him.
“I know, baby, but please don’t cry. You know I can’t stand to see you cry,” he said, kissing the wetness away.
Joi sat motionless, her movements noticeably measured. He continued his kisses and caressed her breasts. Her weak spot. Her nipples hardened and she felt the tingles of her arousal. She didn’t want what he was doing to her to feel good, but it did. It wasn’t so much the act as it was how she felt afterward. She felt empty and used. Before, making love to her husband used to be a happy experience, one that left her satisfied and content, but now after sex all she wanted to do was cry. She was tired of crying. All she wanted him to do was keep his promises and stop lying to her. She was depressed and confused, but she didn’t want to give Tyrese any more reasons to stray. So she went along with his advances. She pushed him down on the sofa and straddled him. She could feel his erection growing against her bare leg.
“Where are the boys?”
“Taking a nap,” he responded, kneading her nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. She closed her eyes and let her senses take over. He kissed her slowly and moved his hands up and down her back, finally finding their way under her skirt to her bare ass cheeks. She rolled her hips in a slow, sensual grind, her arousal heating up as she brushed herself against his manhood, pushing against the thin fabric that separated them.
She lifted his T-shirt over his head and kissed him hard, just like she had seen the girl do in the video. She kissed his chest and continued downward, lingering a while at the fine hairs that swirled around his navel. He leaned his head back and moaned. She undid his jeans and freed his manhood. She wrapped as much of her hand as she could around his girth and stroked him just the way he liked it. She felt liberated and in control.
“Let’s go to the bedroom so we can make love.”
“I want to ride your dick right here.”
Tyrese tensed, locked eyes with her, but then relaxed into her strokes. Joi kissed him on the lips a few times then started her descend downward. She kissed his neck, his chest, his stomach and he moaned. He was very aroused, and she could feel his sense of control fly out the window. She leaned in to kiss his stomach again, except this time she brushed past his navel, her tongue stealing a swipe at his sex.
“That’s it, baby,” he said as she covered his pulsating member with her warm, wet mouth, and Joi moaned loudly, enjoying what her husband was finally letting her do. Suddenly, Tyrese’s eyes popped open and he jumped up, sending his wife flying to the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” He glared down at her in disgust. “I told you never to do that fucking shit. You put your mouth on my children.”
Joi looked confused. All the videos she had been watching claimed men liked oral sex as long as you didn’t use your teeth. She raked her fingers through her short, curly hair, still not comprehending what the big fucking deal was.
“I bet you don’t mind when those other bitches suck your dick,” she spat, feeling embarrassed and rejected.
“What the hell are you talking about? What bitches?” he said, his arms flailing about.
“I’m not stupid, Tyrese. I could tell you liked it and I’m smart enough to know if you’re not getting it at home, you’re getting it somewhere else,” she said, searching his eyes for the truth.
“There you go, tripping,” he said, helping her up off the floor. “Baby, you’re beautiful and you’re all I need.” He kissed the insides of her palms, pleading with his eyes. “I understand you’re trying to please me, but I just can’t let my wife do that type of thing. You know I don’t want anybody but you.”
“I don’t believe you. I know you let those whores suck your dick.”
“Baby, I keep telling you, there are no other women.”
Joi yanked her arm away. In her gut she felt this was just another one of his lies. “I need to finish packing.” She stopped at the door, her voice wavering as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Have you seen Taylor’s Game Boy?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s in the center console of my truck.”
* * *
Once the garage door closed, Tyrese’s head began to pound. Joi was right. He did love it when whores like Debbie sucked his dick, but the idea of spewing his seed down his wife’s throat repulsed him. He massaged his temples, trying to stave off the intense headache that had been closing in on him all day. This day wasn’t turning out the way he’d planned. Joi was again accusing him of seeing other women, and this was the second time in a matter of weeks that he’d refused a blow job from her. He had to admit her warm mouth felt damn good and it seemed like she knew what she was doing, which he had major concerns about. Any woman who put a dick in her mouth wasn’t worthy to be the mother of his children. The thought of his boys swapping kisses with a woman who’d put her mouth on his pole was even more sickening. As far as he was concerned, dick sucking was off limits in the White household, and when things settled down, he’d make sure Joi understood that.
* * *
Joi stopped at the coat closet and took out the GPS device that had arrived on Saturday. She wanted the truth, but Tyrese was still lying to her face. She retrieved the Game Boy from the console and then strategically placed the tracking device under the driver’s seat, as the instructions suggested.
With tears of frustration pooling in her eyes, she reentered the house, determined that the lies and deceit were about to come to an end.
CHAPTER 22
With traces of last week swirling through his mind, Donathan spent the entire afternoon preoccupied about his scheduled evening meeting with Austyn. His morning had flown by with abandon. This morning, in his role as the sex doctor, he’d taken audience questions and was alert enough to respond to them live on the radio show, but now he was alone in his office, mulling over his options. He read Sydney’s itinerary and then reread the crinkled note from Austyn for what seemed like the hundredth time. There was no way he could be in two places at once, and not picking up Sydney from the airport would piss her off even more. He thought about picking her up, dropping her off at home, and running back out to meet Austyn, but he knew that would be cause for a lot of unanswerable questions, and he’d also run the risk of Austyn not being there if he was late. He picked up the phone and called Black Tie Limousine Service.
A few hours later Donath
an parked his Mercedes along 24th Street in the artsy, uptown district of Oakland. With his game face on, he glanced down the street, measured the distance to the front door, and then trotted out into the darkness of the falling rain. He stepped inside the champagne lounge with the stride of a man at ease with himself. It was a weeknight and raining, but Mimosa was buzzing with after-work conversation. He removed his raincoat, brushed the droplets of water from his dark wool trousers, then searched the room for the woman who was determined to ruin his life. His mind wandered, as it always did when he was stressed, and he remembered he’d forgotten to call Sydney to make sure she’d received his message. But it was too late for that now.
He scanned the room and noticed the woman he was looking for perched at a small bistro-style table at the back of the lounge. As he passed numerous patrons, mostly women, a few of them clung to him, trying to persuade him to sit at their table, but he extracted himself with a polite shake of his head and a few kind words, reminding himself to stay focused. Before he could sit down, a waiter appeared out of nowhere.
“I’ll have a small bottle of unopened Pellegrino,” Donathan said before he sat down. He stared at Austyn. Her features were evenly distributed, perfect. She reminded him of a younger version of Sade. She matched his stare with a mocking smile, and he wanted to ask her what the fuck was so funny, but he desperately needed to keep his cool if he was going to get anywhere with her tonight.
The waiter returned within what seemed like seconds with the unopened bottle and scurried away to the next table.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, after pouring the sparkling water into his glass. “Have we met before?”
Austyn ran her tongue along her lower lip in the most provocative way. “Of course we’ve met before.”
“No.” He cut her off. “I’m talking about before the golf course. It’s the oddest thing, but you remind me of someone,” he added, noting her perfectly made-up eyes, wide and appealing. She looked much younger than he remembered, probably in her late twenties. She gave him a long, lingering look and leaned toward him, the cowl neck of her sweater dipped to expose her plentiful breasts.
“We all think we’re original, but I can be whoever you need me to be,” she purred and scooted her chair closer to his. “So when is your wife coming home?”
“I didn’t come here to talk about my wife,” he said, throwing off that bad-boy vibe women found irresistible. “How about we discuss why you wanted to meet me here tonight?”
“Well, I thought since you fucked me, the least you could do was take me out for a drink.” Her eyes danced between him and the front door.
Donathan stared at her again. During the past week she had been relentless, showing up at his home and his office with those obscene pictures. If playing along with her insanity would get him what he needed, so be it.
“That’s reason enough, don’tcha think?” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
He lowered his voice and turned on the bullshit charm that always worked so well for him. “Let’s go back to your place. We can repeat what we did the other night, and then I’ll at least have an active memory of what we did together.”
“Why don’t we go get a room? The Marriott is just up the street,” she suggested. His phone rang, and she eyed him suspiciously. He removed it from his belt clip, did a quick scan of the screen, and then stabbed the unknown number into voice-mail oblivion. If it was urgent, they’d call his office and his service would call him back. He cleared his throat and continued.
“Hotels are so impersonal,” he said, blowing a warm breath against her ear. She quivered from the heat, a chill running through her body. Then, without warning, Austyn faced him and covered his mouth with hers just in time for the flash from a camera. Donathan was startled. He got up, with the intention of spewing a tirade of insults, but thought better of it; he didn’t want to attract any more attention to himself.
“Hey,” he called out, taking huge strides to catch up with the man who was heading toward the front door. “What’s up with the pictures?” he asked the man’s retreating back.
The man stopped at the front door and faced Donathan. “Just a few promotional shots for the web site.”
The photographer couldn’t have been more than five-foot-eight. He was dressed for the rain and had water droplets resting in his medium-length afro. He looked like a black Columbo, if there was such a thing.
“I’m not interested in being on the Mimosa web site, and don’t I need to sign a release for you to use my likeness?”
“In case you weren’t aware, this is a public setting and releases aren’t necessary. And who said anything about Mimosa’s web site?” the photographer replied with a self-satisfied smile. “You have a nice evening, Dr. James.”
Donathan stared at the photographer in disbelief as he passed through the glass entrance doors and imagined all the dreadful scenarios that could come from those pictures.
That conniving bitch, he thought. This was probably all her doing. A few days ago she was just another groupie. Now she was acting all smug, like she was running things. He backed away from the front door, turned on his heel, and rushed back to the table. When he got there she was gone. Donathan was livid. He couldn’t believe he’d let her get away from him again. This new glitch changed everything. This was a fucking nightmare. He was sure the photographer was from a local rag and the picture of him and Austyn would be the lead story on the internet blogs come tomorrow. He didn’t know which blog it was, but there was one thing he knew for sure: he had to come up with a new plan. His life was fucked up. Very fucked up. He grabbed his coat and was out of there.
* * *
Austyn sat in the driver’s seat of the Saturn, soaked from head to toe. She had parked her car off Broadway, and in her hasty departure she’d left behind the three-dollar umbrella she’d purchased earlier. The rain had intensified and her breath was still coming in pants. The windshield wipers swayed back and forth as she pulled onto Telegraph and drove for a while before her car passed under the Highway 24 overpass. The car stopped in front of an obscure building, the words “Adult Bookstore” illuminated across the front. She parked, ran inside, and made her way toward the cashier. The lighting was bright, with the exception of the small hallway that led to a row of private booths. Shelves were lined with books and magazines, display tables strategically placed around the floor displaying sex toys, condoms, and lubricants. She reached into her purse, removed a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to the cashier.
After taking the roll of coins, she turned on her heel and bumped into a tall, slender man who’d been standing in the magazine section when she’d come in. They made eye contact and he held her gaze before she moved around him and headed in the direction of the dimly lit hallway. He grinned and followed at a distance, but Austyn could smell his closeness, a combination of a long day’s work and stale beer. She yanked open the curtain to a vacant booth, sat down on a small stool, then pulled the black curtain closed behind her. After she inserted her first quarter into the machine, the shortened length of the black satin exposed the pair of muddied work boots that belonged to her admirer. Still standing, she pulled back the curtain and took in every inch of him. He wore jeans, a long-sleeved, orange T-shirt, and a fluorescent-green safety vest, the City of Oakland emblem printed on his left breast pocket. Without a word she stepped back, he stepped inside, and she closed the curtain behind him.
CHAPTER 23
Back at home, Joi used her nervous energy to clean the entire house, cook a romantic dinner, take a luxurious bath, and now she was agitated and tired of waiting for her husband to come home. Her brother and sister-in-law had agreed to take the boys up to the campsite with them, giving her and Tyrese some much needed adult time. The plan was for the two of them to drive up together the next day. She’d phoned him at his office at around twelve-thirty to let him know the change of plans, but his secretary had put her on hold for what seemed like an eternity and then returned to say th
at Mr. White wasn’t available. It was now after seven o’clock and she still hadn’t heard from him.
Joi stared at the coq au vin shriveling on the granite island. She was beginning to get antsy. Where was he? She hurried into the office, her mind conjuring up plenty of reasons why he hadn’t made it home. And at the top of the list was because he was with one of his whores.
She typed in the GPS web site and her password on the laptop and paced back and forth as the screen slowly populated with a map. At first the entire state of California was on the screen, with one little red dot that represented Tyrese’s truck. She clicked on the magnifying icon until the map zoomed in on the San Francisco Bay Area. The red light was now blinking, and she knew from the tutorial that the truck was moving. It looked like he was headed north on I-80. She blew out a ragged breath of guilt, chastising herself for overreacting, but her remorse faded as she watched the blinking dot take a right at the I-980 fork toward Walnut Creek and continue onto I-580 east, finally exiting at Harrison Street in Oakland. Where the hell was he headed?
She picked up her cell phone and punched in his number, but when the call went directly to his voice mail, she didn’t bother to leave him a message. She continued to scrutinize the dot for a few minutes more before it stopped moving.
Joi waited a few moments before she clicked on the icon. It gave her an Oakland address on Martin Luther King Jr. Way. She wasn’t familiar with the area and had no idea how long it would take her to drive from Hercules. She switched to the satellite view to get a better look. It showed a small, two-story building. Who was he visiting? She stared at the screen for what seemed like hours. Now what? Should she sit and wait for him to move or take matters into her own hands? She scribbled the address down on a piece of paper, then rushed up the stairs, into her walk-in closet. She pulled on an all-black sweat suit and a black baseball cap. Ten minutes later, she was on her way.
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