by Noelle Vella
“Oh shit, oh shit, Oh Shit!” Shell repeated, her juices squirting all over my face. I drank her sweet come until it was all gone.
“Good morning,” I said, lifting my head up. All she could do was laugh.
I took my glasses off, wiped my hand down my face, and noticed Shell’s essence was still on my fingers. I smiled to myself. Hadn’t done that in weeks, smiled, that is. Maybe a fake one for staff, clients, and other business associates, but not a real, genuine smile. Being with Shell did that. Like I said earlier, misery does indeed love company, and that misery tasted really good.
My reminiscing was interrupted by the continuous vibration of my phone. Checking it, I saw it was Dali. The bitch was really beginning to work my nerves. I thought about ignoring the call, but I knew if I didn’t answer, she’d keep calling back.
“What?” I asked, wanting her to know how annoyed I truly was.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all morning. Why haven’t you answered my text messages?”
“Because there was no need.”
“What do you mean there was no need? I tell you I’m contesting the divorce, and you ignore me?”
“And I’m supposed to care why?”
Although it just started, I was already tired of this conversation.
“Because, Carl, I still love you. I think we can work through this.”
What the fuck? This woman was obviously delusional. That or her pregnancy hormones were seriously fucking with her brain. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You didn’t love me when you were boning the fuck out of John. Not to mention you’re in the family way, except—wait, it’s not our family. Bitch, please! Get the fuck outta here! This conversation is over. From now on, anything you want to say to me about the divorce, you can say through my lawyer.”
And just that quickly, Dali killed my buzz.
“Carl, are you saying you feel nothing for me, that you don’t love me at all anymore?”
I could hear the quiver in her voice, as if she was about to cry.
“Oh, I feel something for you, but it definitely is not love. You might want to stop asking questions like that or I might tell you what it is I really feel for you.”
Diego was pulling into the parking lot of the Omni Hilton Head Oceanfront Resort. Aside from the occasional sniffle, I heard crickets on the other end of the phone. Finally, she spoke.
“I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but please, please, just think about it. That’s all I ask.”
Ain’t this some shit! This bitch was thickheaded as fuck! She cheated, she rawdogged, she got knocked up with someone else’s baby—What part of all that was I supposed to forgive? Hell no! Not happening!
“Dali, I have to go. Business to attend to.”
“Okay, Carl. Just remember, I still love—” I quickly disconnected the call.
“You okay, man?” Diego asked as we exited our vehicle.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure? Because if you’re not, I can handle the meeting today.”
I knew Diego was just as tired as I was, so I wasn’t going to leave him to handle things on his own. Besides, I wasn’t one to slack off when it came to business, no matter what I was dealing with personally. In reality, until last night, work was my only distraction. Now I had another, at least for this weekend.
“Bro, you know me; I need to keep busy. Going to the meeting and going to the fair are just what I need to get my mind off of my issues. Understand?”
We quickly walked through the lobby, heading toward the elevator.
“Yeah, I hear you. But if you feel the need to take a break, just let me know.”
“Thanks, man,” I said, entering the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor.
Diego and I both had luxury oceanfront suites. After one particularly bothersome incident when Diego and I were in college, I always knew to get my own room when we traveled anywhere. We had gotten a two-bedroom suite, and even though my room was across the hall, I was stuck hearing some random female he met in a club screaming, “Aye, papi,” all fucking night long. Needless to say, that was the first and last time we shared a room, because I never knew if Diego was going to end up with a flavor of the night.
The elevator doors slid open, and Diego and I parted ways, heading to our respective rooms. The plan was to rendezvous at eight thirty at HH Prime, one of the hotel’s upscale restaurants, for breakfast, as well as a quick strategy session, before heading to the conference room we rented in order to interview several companies vying to handle marketing for Electron Enterprises. We already had a kick-ass marketing team, but we knew that if we wanted to stay current, we needed fresh, new ideas, and getting other opinions never hurt.
Before entering my room, I looked at my watch and saw that it was seven thirty. I needed to get a move on. I was starting to feel the effects of my night out. My eyelids felt heavy, and my eyes started to burn. I let out a hearty yawn. Walking over to the suite’s mini kitchen, I grabbed a coffee mug, opened a packet of the hotel’s instant fresh roast coffee, and poured it into the cup. Time was passing, so instead of waiting for the coffeemaker to heat some water, I put some water from the sink in the mug, and then placed the cup in the microwave, setting the time for one minute thirty seconds.
While my coffee was heating up, I got out some clothes to wear. I chose a pair of charcoal-gray pants, matching socks, a crisp light gray Polo shirt, and my black leather oxfords. Even the boxer briefs I selected were gray, the color reflecting my current mood thanks to my hopefully soon-to-be ex-wife. She really had me fucked up. How could she even have the nerve to contest the divorce? She didn’t have a leg to stand on. I clearly had the tramp on the grounds of adultery. The DNA test proved that. Yeah, she was trippin’. The more I thought about her, the more disgusted I became.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when I heard the microwave ring. I opened the door, taking the cup with the steaming hot coffee out. I didn’t even wait for it to cool down. I damn near burned my taste buds off drinking the strong liquid. I needed it strong right now. I saw many cups in my future this morning; didn’t want to fall asleep during the interviews.
I made short work of the cup, and then headed to the shower, took off my glasses placing them, along with my cell phone, on the bathroom counter. Quickly, I shed my clothes, tossed them to the side. Turning on the water, I gave it a few seconds to warm up. I needed a hot shower; did some of my best thinking then.
I stepped inside, turned around, letting the hot water roll down my back. As I inhaled the steam, I allowed myself to relax a bit. Before I left Shell, we talked for a few minutes. You can learn a lot about a person in a short amount of time if you really wanted to. And I wanted to know more about the woman I had been sexing for the better part of the night.
“What are you going to school for?” I asked as I got dressed.
Shell was lying on her stomach; head sitting on her hands, Falcons jersey half covering her full bare ass. I had to look away, or else I’d never get out of there.
“I’m prelaw. I eventually want to study international law.”
I almost tuned her out when she said she wanted to become a lawyer, but I had to remember that it wasn’t her fault that she wanted to go into the same profession as Dalisay. That was just my own transference talking.
“Why international law?”
She tilted her head to the side and took a deep breath as she appeared to be formulating an answer.
“I love studying the law, and I want to travel. That way, I have the best of both worlds.”
I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but one question kept gnawing at me.
“How are you going to travel if your husband doesn’t even like you going to school locally? If you two get back together, you know that’ll probably be an issue.”
“Assuming we do get back together, I guess I’ll cross that bridge if and when it comes to that,” she shrugged. “Once I graduate, and he sees all the opportuniti
es I’ll have, I’m sure he’ll change his mind.”
“Well, I hope it all works out for you.” I felt Shell was being extremely naïve, but if that’s what it took to get her through the day, then so be it. “How old are your kids?” I asked.
“I have a girl who is three, and a boy who is four.”
I put on my shoes and glasses, picked up my cell.
“Think you’ll have anymore?”
“Most likely. I do love children. But that won’t be any time soon. Not until I graduate and have a decent job.” Shell got up from the bed. “Do you have any kids?”
I bristled when I heard her question.
“No. Wife didn’t want any. Was too concerned with climbing the corporate ladder.”
As I considered the bitter irony, the subject still had me feeling raw.
The look on Shell’s face told me she also understood how ironic the situation was. “Damn, Carl, that’s really fucked up.”
“It is what it is.”
At the moment, my phone vibrated in my hand. I thought it may have been Diego sending me a text letting me know he was ready to go. Instead, Dali’s name popped up. Just one of a number of text messages. All of them pissed me off, all of them went unanswered. I rolled my eyes, putting my phone in my back pocket.
Shell noticed the look of aggravation on my face.
“Something wrong?”
Didn’t feel like getting into it, so I flat-out lied. “No. Just business. Give me your phone.”
“Why?” she questioned.
“Just give it to me.”
Reluctantly, she complied before stepping into the bathroom. Going to her contacts, I pressed the icon for a new entry. I entered my information and saved it. Then I dialed my number. I let it go to voice mail. I just needed her number to show up in the call log so I could lock it in my phone. Shell returned wearing a pair of shorts. I handed the phone back to her. “Last night was . . . good,” I said, walking toward the front door.
“So was this morning,” she laughed.
I watched her ass jiggle as she paraded in front of me, unlocking the front door. I tapped her on it, making her jump. I wanted to tap it again . . . in more ways than one.
“You ladies have a good time at the fair today.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “And, Carl.”
“Yes?” I asked as I walked out the door.
“Thank you. For everything else.” A huge grin crossed her face.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
Then I thought to myself, Yeah, my time with Shell isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
I got out of the shower, dried off, and quickly got dressed. When I arrived at the restaurant at eight thirty on the dot, Diego was already there. He had gotten us a table with a clear view of the ocean. He had also gotten us a large pot of coffee.
“Wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” he chuckled. “I guess Shell really worked you over last night.”
“Very funny, motherfucker. You got jokes,” I said, pouring a cup of coffee. “The coffee’s half gone, so I’m guessing it’s safe to say you didn’t get much sleep either.”
Diego took a sip of the light colored beverage. His idea of coffee was more like a whole bunch of sugar and milk with just a touch of coffee.
“True. So you want to talk about what happened with Dalisay?”
“You heard what happened.”
“No, I heard what you said to her. I don’t want to make assumptions about what’s really going on.”
He looked me squarely in the eyes. In a way, I felt I owed Diego the truth when it came to Dalisay. If it wasn’t for him, I might be in prison for assault . . . or worse, and even though she was the one who called him, I know he was looking out for me, not her.
“She doesn’t want a divorce. Claims we can work it out.”
Diego had a look of surprise on his face.
“You can’t tell me she really believes that. I mean, after everything she did, she can’t possibly think you’d take her back.”
“Apparently she does,” I replied.
Our food arrived. I tore into it like it was my last meal.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. Let the lawyers handle it. See, this is just one more reason why I don’t want to get married,” he said.
“Negro, please, stop making excuses for why you don’t want to get married. You just like playing the field,” I retorted, laughing. “Although, if you ask me, Ricki’s the closest thing you’ve had to a girlfriend in a minute.”
“You’re right,” Diego sneered, looking up from his meal. “Nobody asked you.”
I hardly ever brought up Ricki, but Diego had that young woman around for so long, I wasn’t lying when I said she was the closest thing he had to a girlfriend. I felt if your best friend couldn’t tell you the truth, then who could?
“Be an asshole if you want, but that girl is going to expect more from you, probably sooner rather than later, and you’re going to be left with two choices: either man up, or let her go.”
Diego huffed. “Ricki knows better than to even try to give me an ultimatum. She knows what will happen if she does,” he replied, smugness in his tone.
“Okay, bro, if you say so. Just don’t let those words come back to bite you in the ass,” I said.
“Never gonna happen,” he chortled, haughtiness oozing from those words.
I looked at him, shaking my head.
“All right, man. I hope you’re right. But when she goes all Fatal Attraction on you, don’t come crying to me. Just remember, little girls who get their feelings hurt can eventually become scornful, bitter women, and there’s no telling what she might do then. On that note, I’m done.”
I let it go because I knew talking to Diego sometimes was like talking to a brick wall; it got you nowhere.
“’Bout damn time,” he laughed. “Look, man, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I know Ricki a lot better than you do, and I know she won’t make waves, and she’s not going anywhere, so it’s all good. Now, let’s talk business.”
Now that was something Diego and I could always agree on. The rest of our breakfast time was spent brainstorming, and while it was productive, my mind was elsewhere, mainly on my looming divorce that was about to become very messy. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was about to get a lot more complicated.
Chapter 13
Mischelle
The smell of bacon greeted me once I finally opened my eyes. I jumped up from my sleep with a slow drum of satisfaction beating between my thighs. My phone was beeping from my clutch across the room, and I remembered all that had happened before Carl had left this morning. It came rushing back like a 3-D movie. Oh God, what had I done?
I’d really cheated on Malik. I’d broken my vows. I didn’t know how to feel about that. Even though Malik had been a grade-A asshole and had cheated on me, I questioned my moral standings because I’d turned around and done the same thing to him. Jesus, what had I done? Had I been so drunk in lust that I’d lost my mind?
Possibly so. But the way Carl had handled me sent chills up my spine. The way he’d explored my body like he’d been specifically sent to do it made me close my eyes and shutter. I could feel my breasts swelling and nipples hardening at the thought of it. To see his beautifully handsome face between my thighs before he left had stunned me. And my, oh my, could that man eat some pussy. The way his thick tongue would flatten against my lips just before he would lick from my opening up to my clit had me on edge. My stomach clenched involuntarily as I got the sensation all over again.
I sat up. Felt my body aching as if I had worked out with one of those CrossFit training freaks. My inner thighs were sore from where Carl’s big hands had spread my thighs while he worked his hips against my pelvis. He could move his hips like no man I’d ever encountered. Carl wasn’t afraid of hip thrusting and whining. He’d shown me that on the dance floor. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he wouldn’t mi
nd doing the same in bed.
I yawned as I stood. Scratched my fat ass as I walked over to the dresser to take my phone from my clutch. I could still taste the stale alcohol on my breath, and it made me frown. The hardwood floor was cold underneath my feet. I saw I had missed calls from Malik and guilt settled into the pit of my stomach like anvils. Walking over to the window, I closed it as it was a bit chilly in the room. Then I dialed my husband’s cell and waited for him to answer.
“Why you ain’t answer your phone?” Malik asked as soon as he picked up the phone.
“I was sleeping,” I stated flatly.
“What were you doing last night that has you sleeping the day through?”
I almost stuttered when I opened my mouth. Started to chew on my bottom lip. Three golden condom wrappers lay haphazardly on the floor while Carl’s scent saturated my skin. He smelled so good, the scent he’d worn was like an aphrodisiac. I kept seeing his face as his locs swung around his shoulders and back that morning. He’d taken his locs down after the first time we’d sexed. They were a lot longer than they looked in the braids. They sat middle of his back.
Malik had always been good at reading me, and the last thing I needed was for him to call me on my shit before I could think of a plausible excuse. Yes, he’d cheated on me, but did I need him to know what I had been doing?
No.
I told him, “Gabby and I went out last night.”
“So you staying out all night like a filthy ho just because you ain’t at home? You left my kids somewhere just to go clubbing?”
I sighed heavily. “You got some damn nerve,” I spat out venomously. “Some fucking nerve when you’re the one who ran off and left your whole damn family for some piece of young ass.”
“I didn’t run off and leave my family. I left you,” he shot back coolly.
His words stung. I couldn’t pretend they didn’t. I had to swallow my pride and tears. The bile that had risen in my throat threatened to come up.
Malik didn’t seem to care that his words cut like the sharpest two-edged sword. He kept right at it. “So get that shit straight, I left you. I left a woman who put her little book writing shit and school before her husband. Left a woman who wouldn’t give her husband no pussy. Found somebody who actually paid attention to me.”