One Taste

by Allison Hobbs

  Regina felt uncomfortable getting all in the man’s business, but if she was going to be involved romantically or professionally she would be remiss in not finding out everything she could about the younger man. “What’s your addiction, Cochise? How did you end up in the recovery program?”

  “I’m addicted to alcohol,” he said without hesitation. “Wine, whiskey, beer. You name it, if it could get me drunk enough to numb the pain, I drank it.” Sadness softened his tone.

  “My girl—my ex-girl, Tierra,” he went on solemnly, “she wanted to get married. I told her I wasn’t ready. She got upset, said I didn’t love her. We broke up.” Cochise bit down on his lip as if pained by the memory. “It was cool, though. I wasn’t ready to make a lifetime commitment. But then I started missing her like crazy. I caved in, called her and told her I was willing to get married if that’s what it took to get back together.

  “She started planning a big, elaborate wedding. Preacher, church, family and friends, the whole nine. But I wasn’t with all that. Being stubborn, trying to have my way because I felt like I was being forced into something I wasn’t ready to do, I told her if we didn’t have a small, private ceremony at City Hall, then we could just call the whole thing off.” Cochise paused and lowered his head as if he were too overcome with emotion to speak.

  “If this is too uncomfortable…”

  “No, no. It’s cool. I need to talk about it,” he said, nodding. “Tierra wanted to get married so bad she went along with it, but on the day we were supposed to get married, she insisted we drive our separate cars. She didn’t want me to see her in her wedding dress, said it would be bad luck.” Cochise inhaled, drawing in a deep breath, gathering himself before he continued. “Tierra never made it. She was killed in a car crash. A head-on collision. Blaming myself, I started drinking. I drank so much, I was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. And that’s when I finally realized that my drinking was going to kill me. I decided I wanted to live. The social worker at the hospital told me about the Recovery House.”

  “How long have you been sober?”

  “A year and a half. But I’m not gon’ hold you, it’s still a struggle. Every day is a struggle.”

  Regina thought about her addiction to designer bags. Unlike a drug, alcohol or gambling addiction, her spending was controllable. She didn’t neglect bills or go without food. But she could relate to the need to numb the pain of loss with some form of overindulgence.

  Stopping at a red light, Regina reached over and touched Cochise’s hand. When the light changed, she pushed down on the gas pedal. “Matt and I lost our son,” she said softly, keeping her eyes on traffic. “His name was Devon.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago?”

  “It’s been ten years now.”

  “What happened? Was your son sick?”

  “No.” Driving through traffic, Regina was catapulted back in time. Taking in a breath, she composed herself. “He drowned,” she said in a monotone, detaching herself emotionally in order to speak the unspeakable. “Devon drowned when he was seven years old. His father bought him a fishing rod and promised to take him on a fishing trip. Matt cancelled when his job offered him overtime to work the weekend. Devon was so disappointed, he had a tantrum. Cried and wouldn’t go outside to play with his friends. I felt like I was being punished by his constant crying, whining, and moping around the house all day Saturday. By Sunday, I was so weary of his sullen disposition and so angry with Matt for leaving me to deal with it, I yelled at Devon and insisted that he go outside and play in the backyard. Every fifteen minutes, I checked on him. But when I called him in for lunch, he didn’t answer. After scouring the neighborhood looking for him, I gave up and called Matt. He came home and we called the police. Devon’s body was found in a nearby creek. He’d secretly taken his fishing rod out of the backyard shed and decided to go fishing by himself.”

  Surprisingly, Regina didn’t cry. Speaking of the tragic details of her son’s death was therapeutic. And for the first time, she no longer pointed the finger of blame at Matt or herself. Neither could have known that their decisions that weekend would alter their lives forever.

  Regina and Cochise made the rest of the trip to Chester in silence. No radio, no conversation. The mood, however, was not tense. Regina and Cochise were both pensive—silently in awe that two wounded souls had found each other, knowing that together their wounds would heal.

  Matt’s alleged drug trafficking and the murder charge were hot topics in the small town of Chester. The story made the front page of the local newspaper, Cochise discovered when he dropped off the vouchers at the Recovery House. There was, however, a bit of good news. Mr. Faison had his medication and was doing fine. And he’d heard that Onika had returned to the womens’ Recovery House, vowing to stay clean.

  Most likely, the story wouldn’t hit the bigger newspapers in Philadelphia, so Cochise kept quiet about Matt’s situation being splashed on the front page of The Delaware County Daily Times. That information would undoubtedly upset Regina, and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Right now, he wanted her to focus on getting the costly equipment out of the job site and safely to her home.

  After Regina rented the truck, Cochise drove the U-Haul, picked up the equipment, and returned it to Regina’s home.

  Back at the Wheeler household, Cochise and Regina pored over Matt’s records. There was one alarming discovery after another, the first being that Matt was several months behind in payments to numerous cleaning product suppliers. Each had sent threatening letters with dates when the account would be suspended. Also startling was the fact that over four thousand dollars in furniture had been charged to one of Matt and Regina’s joint credit cards. But the most shocking discovery of all was the sight of Matt’s signature on the lease to an apartment in Chester.

  So stunned was she by the depth of her husband’s deception, Regina was too numb to feel any emotion. However, when the fax machine in Matt’s office began spitting out a slew of cancelled contracts, Regina was finally able to feel something. Fury!

  “Apparently, Matt’s troubles are public knowledge. How could he allow his affair to get him into such a mess?” She stared at one of the faxed pages and handed it to Cochise. “His drug-related legal troubles are in direct violation of his agreement with the Recovery House; all the businesses he contracted with have pulled out,” she added as she watched Cochise peruse the faxed messages. “I just can’t believe Matt has gotten himself into such a terrible financial mess, not to mention the criminal charges.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Wheeler is guilty of those charges. I didn’t want to upset you, but everybody’s talking about it at the Recovery House…that gun they found on Mr. Wheeler was used in a murder—”

  Regina mouth dropped open but not a sound came out. “Murder?” she finally asked.

  Cochise nodded. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said softly, “but if you still love your husband and want to stand by his side, I definitely can understand it. The things he did—cheating on you with Onika, splurging on dumb stuff when he should have been handling his business, well…that shit was slimy, but I don’t think he deserved to take the fall for crimes he didn’t commit.”

  “After twenty years of marriage, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about Matt.”

  Though he maintained an impassive expression, Cochise’s heart was beating fast as he listened to Regina, waiting to find out the fate of their relationship.

  “I’m furious with Matt, but I’m not letting my anger determine my actions. I’m going to help him. I’ll take out a second mortgage on the house if that’s what it takes to afford a good defense attorney, but I want a divorce. I’m not in love with my husband. Our marriage was over years before he began the affair with Onika. Our marriage started dying when we lost our son and neither of us knew how to revive it.”

  Regina looked so sad, Cochise embraced her. “You know I’m here for you. Just tell me what you need.”

 
Frightened, exhausted, and love deprived, Regina looked up at Cochise. “Right now, all I need is you.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Two weeks later, Onika Brandt, now holy and sanctified, stood up to give a testimonial during a special celebration for the men and women who had successfully completed a week or more of sobriety. Her brush with death, she recounted, had turned her life around. Onika’s testimonial soon turned into a full-fledged praise service.

  Onika spoke with passion of her nightmarish encounter with an alleged unknown assailant. “I was a sinner. Chasing after drugs, I turned my back on my heavenly Father and ran smack into the arms of Satan,” she said, mimicking the posture and vocal quality of an evangelical minister. “But the devil didn’t win!” Onika shouted. “Oh no,” she said, shaking her head dramatically. Lowering her tone, she continued, tears streaming down her cheeks, “I turned my back on the Lord, but I’m standing here today because the Lord didn’t turn his back on me.”

  Thundering applause amidst a chorus of “Amen” and “Thank you, Jesus,” erupted inside the small room where the recovering addicts took turns recounting the experiences that had made them hit rock bottom and finally seek help.

  After Onika’s testimonial, Cochise pulled her aside to speak to her privately.

  “Glad to see you’re getting yourself together.”

  “Thanks,” she said, licking nervously at her scarred lips.

  “Me and you never got along, but there was never any real beef between us, right?”

  “Right,” she murmured cautiously.

  “Good, just trying to make sure we’re cool and everything.”

  Onika nodded. Cochise could tell that his sudden show of friendship made her uneasy.

  “So…um, I guess you heard about Mr. Wheeler.”

  “Yeah, it’s a shame the way things went down.” She lowered her eyes and ran a nervous hand through her hair.

  Cochise gave Onika a long, knowing look. “Oh, so you’re not going to say anything? You’re just gonna sit back and let the man take that fall?”

  “I don’t know what—”

  “You know what I’m talking about. I guess turning your life around, being all holy and sanctified, is just a front.” His harsh tone and expression challenged her.

  Onika backed up a little. “I ain’t have nothing to do with—”

  “Right now, you’re like a celebrity around here, but when I tell everybody about your role in bringing an innocent man down…” Cochise shook his head ominously. “You think they still gonna be singing your praises when they find out you’re covering up for a drug dealer?”

  Onika looked pained. Her body sagged. “You don’t understand. If I give him up, him and his peoples gon’ come after me. The next time that nut pulls a knife out, he’s gon’ be using the sharp end…poking a bunch of holes in my ass.”

  “You know you’re safe here. We’re not gonna let nobody harm you.”

  “But I’m scared,” she whined.

  “The program will stand behind you and you know it. You need to give the police some information. Mr. Wheeler is facing hard time and you know that’s not right. If you love the Lord the way you claim to, you’ll do what’s right.” He patted Onika on the shoulder, then turned around and told all his friends goodnight.

  Cochise was now an employee of the Recovery House. He no longer resided there. Regina had inherited Matt’s debts and was required to pay the rent on the apartment for the duration of the one-year lease as well as make payments on the furniture her husband had purchased with their joint credit card, so at Regina’s request, Cochise moved into Onika’s former apartment in Chester. Conducting their love affair on neutral turf instead of Regina’s and Matt’s home seemed the most respectful thing to do.

  All the fight was gone. Having been behind bars for almost three weeks, Matthew Wheeler was no longer hostile and combative toward his wife. Looking into her husband’s eyes, Regina saw only remorse and shame.

  “I’ going to use the house as collateral to pay your bail, but I think we should discuss selling the property.”

  “Why do you want to sell it?”

  “Sad memories. It’s time to move forward,” she said solemnly. “But on the bright side, I’ve found an attorney, a very expensive attorney. I’m using half the money from the sale of the house to pay his fee. I think it’s fair that you and I split the rest of the money.”

  Matt lowered his head and nodded. “I’m so sorry, Regina.”

  “I know you are.” Regina pondered briefly. “Matt,” she said softly.

  Matt looked up.

  “Onika Brandt has agreed to come forward; she’s going to testify at your trial. Her testimony is critical to your release.”

  “You spoke with Onika?” Matt looked dumbfounded that his wife would willingly have a civil conversation with his ex-mistress.

  “No, not directly. Langston Belgrave—Cochise—convinced her to come forward.”

  “How do you know Cochise?” There was an undercurrent of jealousy in Matt’s tone. His apologetic expression disappeared.

  Regina saw no reason to tell Matt the whole story, so she told him as much as she wanted him to know. “He helped me move your equipment. Without his assistance, I don’t know what I would have done.” Regina paused, breathed in deeply. “Cochise is really ambitious and has a strong desire to run his own commercial cleaning business. He was able to form a partnership with the Recovery House. He got a small business loan, and because I needed cash to pay the attorney’s retainer, I sold him the equipment. Somewhere along the way, Cochise and I became involved.”

  Matthew gripped his head in agony. “How could you do this to me, Regina? Cochise is too young for you and he’s one of my—”

  Regina abruptly rose to leave. “I didn’t come here to argue, Matt. I can’t understand how you have the nerve to feel slighted. If Cochise is too young for me, why was twenty-year-old Onika just the right age for you?”

  Matt didn’t flinch, demonstrating his belief in a double standard. “That man worked for me. I didn’t disrespect you by cheating on you with one of your friends.” Matt laughed bitterly and shook his head. “Cochise! Who would have thought that lowlife alcoholic could steal my wife and my business?”

  “He’s a recovering alcoholic,” Regina said, defending Cochise. “You told me they were recovering addicts when you hired them to work for you,” she reminded Matt. “Let me remind you of something else. It was your infidelity that caused you to lose your wife and your business.” She sighed and looked deeply into his eyes, wanting the severity of her words to penetrate. She was also curious to see if she felt some vestige of the love she’d once felt. But there was nothing. No lost love to salvage or recapture. “It’s over between us, Matt. Accept it.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Inside Cochise’s apartment, Regina prepared dinner wearing a sheer gown. She listened to slow jams as she sliced and diced an array of colorful ingredients. The table was set to create an ambience of elegance and romance with lighted candles and a centerpiece of delicate cut flowers. At the stove, Regina heated extra-virgin olive oil in a sauté pan, adding crushed garlic, onions, and red peppers.

  Cochise arrived home to the appetizing aroma, but the moment he saw Regina, he felt the jolt of a different type of desire. Stirring ingredients, she turned around and greeted her man with a smile. Cochise walked up behind her and kissed the back of her neck, inhaling her scent. He reached over and turned off the burner. “Dinner smells good, but you smell better.” He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  Regina didn’t resist. Dinner could definitely wait. Tonight was the night that Cochise would possess her. Tonight she intended to allow Cochise to fill her with all his thirteen inches.

  Cochise slipped off the straps of Regina’s gown and peeled it off; the soft fabric fluttered down to the floor. “You’re beautiful, baby,” he said while hungrily gazing at her naked, curvaceous form.

  From her prone position on the bed,
Regina watched Cochise strip out of his shirt. Seeing him bare-chested with his rippling muscles exposed was so tantalizing, Regina had to restrain herself from leaping up and worshipfully caressing each isolated muscle.

  When he slid down his jeans and stepped out of them, Regina took in a sharp breath. She watched as Cochise hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. The beauty of his physique took her breath away. Her body tensed, her mouth watered at the sight of his enormous phallus. His face, his body, his dick…gorgeous! Way too much eye candy, the sugar rush made her head spin.

  He straddled her, lowered his head, and kissed her. His lips felt soft against her own. Regina parted her lips, inviting him to plunge his tongue inside and explore her mouth. Tasting each other was incredibly sensual, Regina moaned and Cochise made a small groaning sound in the back of his throat.

  Abruptly he pulled his mouth away and covered her breasts with his lips. Murmuring husky sounds of pleasure, Cochise moved down and squeezed her luscious orbs together, teasing her twin peaks with his tongue, sending the hardened pearls hot sensations that quickly traveled down to the core of her womanhood. Arching her back and twisting with raw desire, Regina cried out. Her sounds of passion blended with the music that played in the background.

  On cue, Cochise abandoned her breasts and moved to the bottom of the bed where he repositioned Regina, pulling her clenched thighs apart, spreading them wide and drawing up her knees. With her labia separated, her pinkness on display, Cochise dipped his head. “You gotta pretty pussy,” he whispered, his hot breath tingling against her moist, rose-colored flesh. He inserted a spiraling finger. When her juices began to flow, he cupped her round behind and lifted it until her hot moisture met his lips.

  Enraptured by the smell of Regina’s feminine scent, Cochise pushed his tongue inside, taking in her flavor, a tasty combination of tangy and sweet. He grazed her clit with his teeth and then proceeded to lick, suck, and eat her as if he were a starving man and her pussy, a scrumptious entrée.