Scandalicious: A Novel

by Allison Hobbs

  “I don’t want to fight you,” she said quietly. “I want to work this out.”

  “Then you need to start telling the truth. Why’d you fuck him?”

  Looking trapped and helpless, she shrugged. “I thought it would be a one-time thing.”

  “That’s not what I asked. I want to know why you made a conscious decision to step outside our marriage and fuck that dude.”

  “We used to laugh and talk. We shared everything. You were my best friend. Then you changed. You became withdrawn and bitter—you know—after the pay cuts.”

  “I knew it!” He pointed at her accusingly. “In your mind, I became less than a man when my money changed.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Your anger affected our relationship.”

  “Don’t twist this around and try to place the blame on me. Own up to the fact that you tipped out on me during the worst phase of my life.”

  She nodded sadly. “I know that my actions have devastated our family, and I’m so sorry. But I really believe that time can heal this. We can at least try.”

  Lincoln shook his head. “I can’t recover from this. As soon as I find a spot, I’m out. I love my children too much to disrupt their lives. I won’t fight you for custody of Amir; I’ll settle for visitation.”

  “Don’t leave us, Lincoln. Me and the kids need you here. Why can’t you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  “I wish I could, Chevonne.”

  “I don’t expect forgiveness to happen overnight. We can go to marriage counseling. I’ll do whatever it takes to save our marriage.”

  Usually a vision of beauty, Chevonne’s face was lined with worry. There were circles around her eyes and she looked noticeably thinner, and not in a good way.

  He didn’t enjoy seeing his wife at her lowest point, but since she was looking so terribly exhausted and defeated, he figured it was a good time to get the whole truth out of her; bully her into giving up the information that she had stubbornly withheld.

  “You want me to go to counseling, yet you refuse to tell me who the hell you cheated with.”

  Chevonne gave him a pleading look. “Let’s not go there. It won’t help the situation.”

  “Who is he?” he persisted in a low, poisonous voice.

  “You don’t know him. Why is a name so important?”

  “Tell me his fuckin’ name!” Glowering, he waited for a response.

  “Where’d you meet this out-of-town muthafucka?”

  “I lied. He’s from this area.”

  Lincoln braced himself. Was she involved with someone that worked for the city? He grimaced as he imagined storming into City Hall and confronting the mayor—punching the dude in his pompous face! But Chevonne and the mayor’s wife were close acquaintances; she wouldn’t stoop to that level of deceit, would she? No, he answered himself. This other cheater was probably some other crooked politician—someone on the state level. Maybe even federal.

  “What’s his fuckin’ name?”

  “Raheem! His name is Raheem Maxwell. We met…Uh….”

  “Where’d you meet him?” Lincoln barked.

  “We met at the BMW dealership—that’s where he works.”

  He flinched as if he’d been slapped. “You let a slimy car salesman talk you out of your drawers?”

  She swallowed nervously. “He doesn’t sell cars. He’s a mechanic—he worked on my car when I took it in for the state inspection.” Though she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper, shame as loud as a trumpet was echoed in her confession.

  Lincoln had a mental picture of grimy-mechanic hands touching his wife. He gave a rough sigh as he forced the image out of his mind. “You risked everything we’ve built over a goddamn grease monkey?”

  “It’s over between me and Raheem. I love you with all my heart. I’ll do everything in my power to win back your trust…and your love.”

  As deceitful as Chevonne had been, Lincoln heard something in her voice—a note of honesty that touched him—brought him to the realization that leaving his family was not an option.

  “You don’t have to win back my love because I never stopped. But trust and forgiveness…” Lincoln’s voice trailed off, knowing that he would have to dig deep to find the strength to get over his wife’s betrayal.

  Chevonne took quick steps toward him, embracing him and murmuring how much she loved him. His arms encircled her, drawing her close as she wept bitterly. In an act of kindness, he wiped her tears, but his mind was on revenge.

  In time he would forgive his wife, but there was no absolution for that mechanic muthafucka. That nigga had to be dealt with. He should have known that there were consequences for fuckin’ with another man’s wife.

  CHAPTER 15

  Though she was coasting on only three hours of sleep, Solay walked through the dining area with a happy strut to her walk. Under ordinary circumstances, sleep deprivation caused her to feel grumpy and mean. Thanks to the good sex and multiple orgasms from Deon, Solay felt refreshed and ready to take on the day. Deon was still asleep in her bed, and the image of him snuggled beneath her duvet made her heart flutter. I’ll check on him in a couple of hours.

  “Good morning,” she sang out as she entered the kitchen.

  Melanee was pouring batter into cupcake liners. “Morning,” she muttered without lifting her head. Solay couldn’t interpret Melanee’s disposition, and she wasn’t interested enough to try and figure out her if her baking assistant was in a mood. As long as Melanee got the job done, her temperament didn’t matter.

  Humming, Solay began mixing up a new specialty item for the menu. Influenced by sexy Deon, she felt a desire to express her feminine side. Creating on a budget, she blended packs of banana pudding into the regular vanilla batter. While the banana cupcakes were in the oven, she added strawberry extract to the butter cream, giving the frosting a soft pink color with the taste and fragrance of fresh strawberries.

  Though Solay had chastised Melanee for deviating from the menu, Melanee didn’t make any snide comments. In fact, she was so lost in thought as she went about her tasks, she didn’t seem to even notice the delicious new scent inside the kitchen.

  “Taste this,” Solay offered Melanee a sliver of the banana-strawberry cupcake. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “It’s good,” Melanee replied without much emotion.

  “I’m gonna call them Pink Panties.” Solay braced herself for Melanee to flare up in anger since the idea of adding specialty items to the menu had been Melanee’s brainchild.

  Surprisingly unperturbed, Melanee smiled faintly. “That’s a cute name.”

  “Are you okay, Melanee?” Solay asked. Lately, Melanee seemed to be only going through the motions at the bakery. She’d acquired an odd serenity, and her mind appeared to be a million miles away.

  “I’m better than ever.” Melanee gave a faint smile and then went back to work, mixing batter.

  As Melanee cracked and folded eggs into the flour mixture, Solay suddenly noticed identical red rings encircling both her wrists.

  “What happened to your wrists?” Solay gawked at the angry red marks.

  “New bracelets; they were too tight,” Melanee said with a shrug.

  Brows furrowed in confusion, Solay went into the dining room and added Pink Panties at the top of the menu.

  The jingling bell announced Vidal’s arrival. “Whaddup, people?” he greeted as he swung through the front door, his long hair bouncing with each jaunty step he took. With a face as pretty as a girl’s and a man’s lean muscular body, Vidal was attractive to men and women alike. He didn’t seem to discriminate…at the bakery, he was equally flirtatious with both sexes. From snatches of conversations she’d overheard between Vidal and Melanee, Solay suspected that Vidal’s personal life was a never-ending stream of wild parties and meaningless sex.

  “Hey, Vidal,” Melanee said when she came out of the kitchen with a large tray of cupcakes.

  “Hey, Mel. What’s good?”


  “Nothing but cupcakes,” she said with a chuckle. She set the metal tray on the countertop, leaving them for Vidal to place inside the bakery case, and then returned to the kitchen.

  Vidal was much closer to Melanee than Solay, so she thought Vidal might have some insight into what was going on with her.

  “Melanee has these weird marks around her wrists,” Solay whispered. “Have you noticed how spacey she’s been acting lately?”

  “Not really,” he responded absently as he squinted at the new addition to the chalkboard menu. “Pink Panties! That’s cute. As long as she’s getting her creative thing off, she’ll be okay.”

  “That’s not her creation; it’s mine.” Solay’s eyes shifted away guiltily.

  “Well, if she’s into cutting on herself or any kind of mess like that, I guess you can take the blame for that.”

  Indignant, Solay frowned. “I didn’t say she’s cutting herself. I said she has some strange markings on her wrists, but why should I take the blame?”

  Vidal’s voluptuous lips twisted in contempt. “You shot down her fancy specialties.” He arched a thick eyebrow toward the chalkboard. “Now it looks like you done stole her idea.”

  “I gave her an opportunity to continue making specialties. For your information, she declined the offer.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Vidal muttered dubiously as he began placing cupcakes inside the bakery case. His head shot up suddenly. He gasped. “Oh, my!” Vidal held one hand pressed against his chest as if holding his heart in place.

  Solay followed his gaze. A surprised smile formed on her face. With his pants sagging low, his Yankees ball cap twisted to the side, Deon stood in the entryway that could only be accessed from Solay’s apartment upstairs.

  Mouth agape, Vidal looked from Deon to Solay, trying to figure out their connection. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

  Her eyes lit up and Solay hurried across the dining room. “Morning, sleepyhead.” She beamed at Deon.

  “Man, your bed is so comfortable, I could have slept ’til tomorrow. Hope I didn’t overstay my welcome.”

  “Never that,” she said with conviction.

  He looked around at the sensual décor of Scandalicious. “Nice place. It’s got a real sensual vibe to it. Your sexy flava is all over this place.” His eyes settled on Solay. In an intimate gesture, he lightly touched her shoulder. “You working that uniform, ma.” He moistened his lips.

  Solay felt her face flush.

  “You gotta wear that uniform for me one of these days, aye?”

  She blushed and cut an eye over at Vidal. Craning his neck, Vidal gawked in their direction.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude on your work space or nothing, but I didn’t want you to think that I was rude—you know—leaving without saying anything.”

  “Whatchu doing later tonight? You feel like getting together?”

  Worriedly, Solay pondered her bank balance, wondering if she could afford a back-to-back session with Deon.

  “This is off the books,” Deon said in response to Solay’s expression. “You wanna go out? We could check out a flick if you want to. Or I could take you to dinner.”

  Are you serious? What are we doing, Deon? An eyebrow arched in puzzlement, but she dismissed her concern. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. I’d like that.” Actually, she liked the idea too much and was worried by her eagerness.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Deon leaned in, his soft lips touching hers briefly. That gentle kiss had the impact of full-tongue penetration. Instantly hot, Solay wanted to steer Deon up the stairs to her apartment instead of walking him to the front door.

  Vidal didn’t even pretend to be working. Bending at the waist, he relaxed across the bakery counter. Propped up by his elbow on the counter, he cupped the side of his face as he studied Solay and Deon.

  “Whaddup, man,” Deon said, acknowledging Vidal with a courteous head nod.

  “Hellooo,” Vidal said with a breathless little giggle. He gazed at Deon like he was something delicious to eat.

  Deon gripped the doorknob and then paused. “Eight o’clock?”

  Trying to keep their conversation from reaching Vidal’s curious ears, Solay spoke softly. “Eight o’clock is perfect. I’ll see you tonight.” Unable to resist touching him, Solay gently stroked Deon’s hand as it rested upon the doorknob.

  Another quick kiss and Deon was gone. Solay leaned against the door, her eyes closed wistfully. Her paid escort had changed up the game, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. Enjoy yourself and stop trying to analyze the situation.

  “Where have you been hiding that hot hunk of male meat? Who is he?” Vidal squawked.

  “Just a friend.” Solay had no intention of disclosing personal information.

  “I thought you preferred the suit-wearing, corporate type. I didn’t know you were into thugs.”

  “I don’t have specific type.” At least not anymore!

  “Mmm-hmm,” Vidal murmured doubtfully. “So where are you and your cute thug dining tonight at eight?” he asked with a smirk.

  Solay chuckled and shook her head. “Mind your business, Vidal.” She went behind the counter and gave a sidelong glance at Vidal’s lazy posture. “Are you bored…nothing to do?”

  Vidal straightened up. “Dang, are you running a sweatshop, now? Can’t a brother take a short break?” He finger-combed his lustrous hair and examined his glossy manicure.

  Solay frowned at smudges on the countertop. “Wipe the counter.” Then she waved a finger toward the dining area. “And make sure all the tables are spotless.”

  “I wiped everything off last night.” Vidal folded his arms and twisted his lips in displeasure.

  “Do it again,” she said, reminding Vidal that she was his boss—not his equal. He had a lot of gall smirking at her and trying to be all up in her business. Smiling with satisfaction, Solay pushed open the swinging kitchen doors while Vidal huffed and puffed.

  Melanee was slacking off, too. Solay caught her neglecting her duties and whispering into her cell phone. When Melanee noticed Solay, she nervously asked the person on the other end if she could call them back later.

  Melanee was acting sneaky and suspicious. Solay wondered if her baking assistant was secretly upset about the Pink Panties addition to the menu. Was she plotting to leave Scandalicious? Solay could have easily flown into a full-fledged state of panic, but with all the baking she had to finish, she didn’t have time for that.

  Besides, she was too excited about her dinner date to worry about Melanee.

  Suddenly her brows furrowed together in worry. What was she getting herself into? Sex with Deon was off the chain, but they didn’t share any common interests. They were from entirely different worlds. So what? I’m not looking for a husband; I’m having fun. Deon was as safe or as dangerous as she allowed him to be. She told herself that she’d be okay if she kept her emotions under control.

  Thank goodness Deon had decided to give her a freebie. He was not a cheap fuck, and her credit card was being absolutely abused.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Madam was pleased with you,” Colden mentioned as he positioned Melanee’s arms behind her back. The feel of the rope against her flesh sent icy shivers up her spine.

  “Really?” Melanee had figured she’d made Colden proud. There was no other explanation for him putting in quality time. Just the two of them—the way it used to be.

  “Are you happy?” he inquired in a low baritone. He could be such a loving dominant at times. Times like now…when Melanee deserved it.

  “I’m very happy,” she whispered. It had been so long since they’d engaged in rope play. Colden tightened the knot, cutting into her skin vengefully. “Oh, God,” she uttered, wincing from the sweet pain. A wave of fear and excitement had her trembling violently.

  “Your ass is getting plump. But not quite ripe for spanking.”

  Disappointment was palpable. She’d been eating everything under the sun. Killing the cupcakes
at work; feasting on fast-food. “But I gained five pounds,” she protested.

  “I said your ass is not plump enough.” His voice was stern.

  Melanee pressed her lips together, trapping further protests inside her mouth. “I’m sorry, Master. So sorry that I’m not worthy.” Aroused by that admission, her pussy throbbed, aching for attention. Yet Melanee had no idea if Colden would allow her release tonight. She never knew. That was the nature of their relationship. Trying to ignore her starving pussy’s yearning, she closed her eyes and embraced the pleasure of the moment.

  With her back turned to her master, she couldn’t see his face. Yet being touched and handled by him—no matter how roughly—had not only caused her pussy to quiver, but a rivulet of sweat trickled between her small breasts. There was a tingling sensation around her nipples, coaxing them into sharp, sensitive protrusions.

  Colden’s hand stilled for a moment. He halted tying the intricate knots. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, master.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

  He worked one hand around to her lower region and explored her moist pussy. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, writhing from sexual agony.

  Angry fingers traveled upward, large hands wrapped around her breasts. Then the tips of his fingers discovered nipples that were hardened with desire. Fingernails dug into the delicate tips, punishing them. Melanee squirmed and cried out in fiery pleasure. Each brutal pinch and twist of her nipples was received like a lover’s caress.

  Bound, she was completely at his mercy. “Harder. More. Please!”

  “You’re a glutton for punishment,” he said mockingly and removed his hands. He resumed tying the knots. Colden enjoyed binding her with dozens of intricate knots.

  Realizing that he was completely absorbed and would not be doling out any more pain, Melanee closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of the rope that cut into her skin.