Scandalicious: A Novel

by Allison Hobbs

  When she’d extended the invitation, she was feeling vibrant and sexy, but tonight she was frazzled and worn.

  She was feeling so unattractive and insecure.

  Part of the problem was that she hadn’t received a text or a phone call from Deon in four days. Finally, she broke down and called him. She usually got his voicemail and was pleasantly surprised to hear his voice. But her joy didn’t last long. “Yo, I gotta hit you back. I’m in the middle of something,” he’d said brusquely before she could even say a word.

  It seemed that her life was on permanent pause…living for Deon’s rare phone calls, his occasional texts. It was downright degrading, the way the relationship had declined, yet she continued to hold on to the dim hope that eventually she and Deon would be back together…in love the way they used to be.

  If only I’d been more understanding—if I’d had more faith in him, our relationship would have been strong enough to endure the separation.

  Soft, tentative knocks announced Lincoln’s arrival.

  Treading toward the door, Solay smoothed her hair back as she practiced what she would say in her mind. So sorry, but something’s come up. Can I get a rain check?

  Through the glass pane, Lincoln looked like a totally different person, wearing sweat pants, T-shirt, sneakers and a hoodie. Brows knitted together in curiosity, she opened the door.

  “Hey,” he greeted, but didn’t cross the threshold.

  “Come on in,” she said politely.

  He took a few steps, but remained close to the door. “Uh, look…I…uh, just came by to tell you that…well, I have a lot of stuff going on, but I want to be straight with you. That’s why I stopped by. Your offer was flattering, but I don’t think I’m the right guy.”

  She flinched. Visibly. Her lips drew into a tight frown of disappointment. Damn, I’m not even good enough to be a friend with benefits?

  “Hey, don’t look like that.” He patted her shoulder.

  Hurt by the sting of rejection, she squirmed away from his sympathetic touch. “I know I’m not looking my best, but I must be looking a hot mess, any time a man turns down an opportunity for uncommitted sex.”

  “Nooo. You’ve got it all wrong. You’re beautiful. And smart. You’ve got a lot going on for yourself. But my life…” His eyes dropped.

  She glanced guiltily at his wedding band. “I know…I shouldn’t have hit on a married man. That was selfish and wrong.”

  “It’s not that. I’m not at my best self right now.”

  She shrugged. “You look good to me. You’re rocking that ‘right off the basketball court’ look. Very handsome and extremely sexy.”

  “Handsome and sexy—really?” Lincoln chuckled, obviously flattered.

  The flirtatious words had spilled from Solay’s lips without warning. There was something about rejection that was stimulating and challenging.

  “Why don’t we go upstairs, have a drink, and talk about what’s bothering you and see how we can make it all better.” She moistened her lips.

  Hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats, he came inside, pacing a little awkwardly as he looked around the empty dining area.

  Solay hit a switch, turning down the bright illumination. The bakery took on a sultrier and more provocative look with the dimmed lighting.

  Solay looked at Lincoln and smiled suggestively. He smiled back, his white teeth grazing his bottom lip. There was a definite attraction between them. Lincoln had a quiet sex appeal—the kind that snuck up on a woman, and took her off-guard.

  She led the way upstairs to her apartment. “Welcome to my abode,” she said as she opened the door.

  “Nice and cozy,” Lincoln commented.

  “Thanks. Have a seat.” She motioned toward the sofa. “Glass of wine?”

  “Sure.”

  She came back carrying two glasses of red wine. “I want to be honest with you, Lincoln,” Solay said, sitting next to him. “I’m going through a crisis. My professional life is fine, but on a personal level, I’m an emotional wreck.”

  “What’s going on with you?”

  “Well, I’m supposed to be in a long distance relationship. But it’s clearly not working. I’ve been trying to hold on because it’s so hard to accept that it’s over. My emotions have been all over the place: frustrated, angry, scared, depressed, and lonely.” She shook her head. “I think I’m going through a sort of grieving process; at least that’s how it feels.”

  “What went wrong? He had to be a very foolish man to risk losing someone like you.”

  “I can’t blame him; it’s not his fault. It’s sort of on me. The relationship was already damaged before he went out of town. I had hoped that a little time apart would heal what was wrong. But the distance between us has only made it worse,” Solay said bitterly.

  “Where’s out of town?”

  “Toronto,” she said sadly. “So, what’s your story?” She changed the subject, afraid that she’d start crying if she talked about Deon for too long.

  Lincoln held up his hands. “So many changes are happening in my life, I don’t know if I’m coming or going. This time a year ago, I couldn’t have imagined that my life would turn completely upside down. This is a challenging time for me, but I’ll get through it. I have to.”

  Lincoln had provided only a vague account of his problems, yet Solay could feel his pain.

  “I understand,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes. She took the glass of wine out of his hand, leaned in and boldly kissed him.

  There were no fireworks. It wasn’t electrical…or magical. It was a gentle kiss, soft and soothing. She put her arms around his neck, realizing that she didn’t need sparks to fly—the only thing she needed was the comfort of a man.

  She unclasped her arms, breaking the kiss. “I’m a little sweaty from cleaning up the shop. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” Solay stood up. “Turn on the TV.” She handed him the remote.

  After standing, she bent over slightly and kissed his cheek and then playfully bit his earlobe. “I’ll be right back, lover,” she said with a wink.

  CHAPTER 49

  Lincoln held the remote. He heard Solay’s footsteps as she padded down the hall. Moments later, he heard the shower curtain being pulled back, followed by the sound of running water.

  He clicked on the TV, and turning the volume low, he surfed through the channels. Uninterested in watching any of the programs that flickered past, he settled on a random sitcom and put the remote down.

  Lincoln took another sip of wine. What am I doing here? He felt ridiculous, like a kid in high school, waiting for his girl to come back and join him on the couch for another session of kissing and groping.

  His mind flashed briefly on Chevonne and the children, and his first thought was to rush home and be with his family. Then he thought about Dr. Lerner’s recommendation—a one-night pass that could potentially heal his hurt and definitely even the score with Chevonne.

  Ironically, he no longer had an interest in getting even. Revenge was the last thing on his mind. His marriage was in such bad shape that it would take more than a one-night stand to repair it. After hearing Chevonne whispering to her lover late at night in their bathroom, and after reading those damning texts, it would take a lobotomy for Lincoln to forget the callous way she’d disrespected him and their marriage. For her to have sneakily continued to cheat with Raheem was simply unforgivable.

  Solay was in the shower. The idea of her being a few feet away from him, naked and wet, caused his dick to thicken inside his pants. Solay was a beautiful woman. The complete opposite of Chevonne. With her doe-shaped, slanted eyes, silky hair, and cinnamon-colored skin, Chevonne was an exotic beauty, and a complete enigma, always keeping secrets.

  Red-bronzed skin and round, expressive eyes, Solay had that wholesome, girl-next-door look. Her open honesty and willingness to show her vulnerability had made her a kindred spirit. She wasn’t looking for romance; she needed sex to forget her pain. Lincoln wanted the same thin
g. They were two hurt people, trying to get a sexual healing. Probably not a good combination, but his throbbing dick had a different opinion.

  Unable to resist the temptation of getting close to some naked wet booty, titties, and pussy, Lincoln shed his clothes.

  Making a bold move, he entered the steamy bathroom. He hoped he’d read Solay’s signals right. It would be embarrassing if she let out a plaintive scream when he pulled the shower curtain back. Is this what she wanted? He questioned himself. Of course, she does. Why else would she kiss me and tell me she was going to take a shower?

  Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled back the beach-themed shower curtain. Solay’s perfectly proportioned body was soapy all over. Her eyes were closed as she rubbed her arm with a bath sponge. When a tiny welcoming smile appeared on her lips, Lincoln stepped inside the shower stall.

  He positioned her in front of him. Her butt against his groin. He picked the bath gel from the shower rack and poured a dollop in his palm, and then rubbed both palms together. Going straight for her breasts, he added more soap to the perky mounds. His thumbs toyed with her nipples, rubbing and twisting, forcing them into sharp peaks. Water pelted his back as he soaped her body; his hands began to roam, squeezing her ass cheeks, running over her hips, stroking the mound of her pussy, exploring every area of her feminine landscape.

  His hand worked its way to her sleek entry. He stroked and teased her pussy lips, but didn’t penetrate. Two fingers rested on either side of her pulsing clit, capturing it in a gentle, undemanding clasp. Lazily, he rubbed the hardened bud, circling it in a leisurely manner.

  Heat emanated from Solay’s body; she moaned softly—her hips swiveled in a slow rhythm. Lincoln’s dick responded by prodding and probing, seeking a warm place. The rigid organ pulsed and probed until Lincoln tucked it inside the warm, moist confines of her lush, soapy thighs.

  “Damn, you feel good,” Lincoln muttered in her ear. “I wanna fuck you right now.”

  “Do it. You know what I want,” she murmured, clamping her thighs tightly around his dick.

  “Not yet.”

  He slid his dick in and out of the lathered territory between her thighs. His hands became active again, toggling her swollen clit. He slid a finger into her juicy pussy, and Solay let out a loud moan. He pleasured her with a crooked, searching finger, while his thumb worked on her clit.

  “I’m ready for some dick,” Solay uttered breathlessly. She disengaged, momentarily breaking the passion spell she was under.

  She turned around and faced him. He bent his head, and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was not soft and delicate. They kissed with fervor, their mouths open, tongues lashing, hungrily devouring each other. She moaned and writhed; his hot kiss making her yearn for more.

  Solay groped and found Lincoln’s thick, meaty dick. It felt like a heavy club inside her fist. She stroked it tenderly into her sudsy fist.

  “Oh, shit. That feels good. I bet that hot pussy feels even better,” Lincoln panted. Roughly, he turned her around, positioning her with her arms outstretched, her hands pressed against the tiled wall, her legs spread widely apart as if he preparing to conduct a strip search.

  Feeling highly emotional and sexually charged, Solay looked over her shoulder. “Come on and fuck me; I’m ready.”

  He entered her slowly from behind, pushing in increment after increment of hot pulsing dick. After embedding every inch of thickness to the hilt, Lincoln became still.

  Solay let out a sharp cry. “Oh, Lincoln. I need you.” She wriggled and moaned. “I need you so bad.”

  “I’m here, baby. You got me,” Lincoln whispered soothingly. Though his body was still, he could feel his hard dick throbbing against her silken, tight sheath. The feeling was so intense, he was afraid he’d shoot out a hot load with the first dick stroke.

  His hands steadied her as her pussy grew more insistent, tightening around his girth, goading him into giving her what she wanted—a long, hard ride.

  Don’t you punk out on me, muthafucka, he cursed at his pulsing dick, demanding that it exercise some self-control. His strong hands gripped Solay’s shoulders as he drove in…delivering long, slow strokes, clenching his teeth to hold back the orgasm that was rocketing through his body.

  The way her muscles gripped him, the way she started mumbling words that he couldn’t make out, told Lincoln that Solay was close to getting hers. He ignored the hot burn of pleasure that coursed through him; refusing to cum until he was certain that Solay was satisfied.

  “Tell me whatchu want,” he whispered, while working his dick in and out at a faster pace.

  “Pinch my nipples,” she said hoarsely.

  His hands slid away from her shoulders and traveled down to her titties. He squeezed the voluptuous, small melons, and then pinched her stony nipples, until her pussy puckered wildly around his shaft. Her body began to buck uncontrollably. Lincoln didn’t stop pinching her nipples or pounding her pussy until Solay went completely over the edge of ecstasy, all the while, spewing a litany of sex-induced profanity.

  The walls that sheathed his dick were slippery with her juices. There was so much heated moisture inside her pussy tunnel; Lincoln could no longer hold back. He squeezed his eyes shut and let go of every torturous emotion that had plagued him. Inside Solay’s tight warmth, he released a rushing sea of passion.

  CHAPTER 50

  Lincoln came home at two-fifty in the pitch-black gloom of night. There wasn’t a star in the sky. He entered his home and was surprised to see Chevonne sitting on the sofa in her bathrobe, obviously waiting up for him. The disgusted look on her face informed that she was none too pleased. At any other time, he would have cared—he would have immediately launched into an explanation, and would have tried to placate her. But tonight, her pissed-off look was almost laughable.

  “Do you know what time it is?” Chevonne demanded.

  Lincoln looked down at his watch. “It’s almost three in the morning,” he said dispassionately, striding past Chevonne. “Are you staying down here? ’Cause I’m going to sleep,” Lincoln said without breaking his gait, and heading for the stairs.

  He listened as Chevonne stomped and huffed up the steps behind him.

  Inside their bedroom, Lincoln closed the door and began to undress. Chevonne glowered at him. “Are you seriously going to walk in this house at this time of the morning, and act like it’s perfectly normal? Where have you been for all these hours? I’ve been calling your phone, sending you texts. I though you were in an accident!”

  “Sorry about that,” he mumbled without emotion.

  “That’s it…you’re sorry. Lincoln, I’ve been worried sick about you, but you’re acting like you don’t have a care in the world. Waltzing into this house at three in the morning and acting like it’s the middle of the day.” She put a hand on her hip. “You better tell me something.”

  “I don’t have to report to you; I’m not telling you shit.” Stripped down to his underwear, Lincoln pulled back the covers on his side of the bed.

  “Why don’t you review what you and ol’ boy did last night…and then read some of those sext messages y’all were sending back and forth…” He paused letting his words sink in.

  Chevonne’s eyes were blinking fast. She opened her mouth to talk, and then seemed to think better of it.

  “Now do you really want to question where I’ve been, or do you wanna take your ass to sleep and leave me the fuck alone,” he said with contempt.

  “Sex messages?” She scowled as if she found the thought repugnant. “I didn’t send any sexually explicit texts.”

  In bed with the covers pulled over his shoulders, Lincoln pushed himself up and stared at his wife. “Oh, no? Did I read that shit wrong, or did you agree to give up the pussy raw on your next gym night?”

  Chevonne grimaced. “What are you talking about?”

  “Keep playing dumb; I really don’t care. I just wanna get some sleep.” He clicked off his bedside light. Lying with his hands c
lasped behind his head, he observed Chevonne momentarily, and then closed his eyes.

  His eyes opened reflexively as she rushed to his side of the bed, and turned the light back on. “Why would you snoop through my phone messages?”

  “Do you really have to ask me that? Look, everything you’re saying and doing is only irking me, so give it a rest. Go to sleep.” He shook his head. “Oh, yeah,” he said suddenly. “We may have to start coordinating our after-work schedules. Be sure to let me know when you need me to watch the kids…you know, while you’re out there getting it in with your mechanic. I don’t want Tori and Amir left home and neglected, whenever Mommy goes out to get a tune-up.”

  “You cold-blooded bastard; how dare you talk to me like this. I would never neglect my children. Those texts that you read were old, Lincoln. I must have forgotten to delete them,” Chevonne said desperately.

  “Mmm-hmm. Sure, you’re right. You lie so much, you’re starting to believe yourself.”

  Chevonne walked solemnly to her side of the bed. “I’m telling the truth, Lincoln,” she said pleadingly.

  He glared at her. “You don’t know the first thing about truth or decency, so stop embarrassing yourself by continually lying.” Lincoln turned the light out again, and curled into a comfortable position.

  “You’re accusing me of cheating, and I haven’t!” She sounded tearful. “I can’t sleep in here with you. There’s too much tension.” She flung off the covers and sat up.

  “Look, either lie the hell down and go to sleep…or take your ass in the basement…the garage…or sleep on the sofa. I don’t give a fuck where you go; just shut up and leave me alone.”

  Snatching her pillow from the bed, Chevonne stormed out of the bedroom.

  Having the bed to himself, Lincoln turned over on his stomach, and stretched out his arms and legs. This position would hopefully deter Chevonne from trying to creep back into their marital bed.