The Marriage Pass

by Briana Cole

  “Wanted you to hear this song.”

  “Saw this mug and thought of you.”

  It could seem suspicious, but under the guise of his “lil’ sis,” no one could really say her intentions were anything other than pure. Which gave them free rein to indulge in each other. And the two had definitely been taking advantage.

  On and under his desk, in the restroom, conference room, janitor’s closet—Reagan’s nimble body was always on the ready.

  With Dorian sexing Reagan more and more, his intimacy with his wife was becoming less and less frequent. Which was how it had to be. Reagan was the jealous type, and she had already made it clear she didn’t want her man screwing his wife. At first, Dorian thought it impossible to withhold from Shantae without raising obvious red flags. A few times he even had to bust a quickie in the middle of the night to appease her.

  Unfortunately, compared to Reagan’s voluptuous curves and freaky porn-star tricks, sex with Shantae was becoming more and more of a chore. Nowadays, he couldn’t even finish and had to pull out due to exhaustion. It was laborious, and eventually, Shantae stopped asking for it at all. Which was just fine with Dorian.

  Now, Valentine’s Day was rolling around and Shantae had suggested they go away for the weekend, but Dorian couldn’t do that to Reagan. He tried not to think about how messed up that sounded. So he feigned like he was too busy at work to get away.

  When he got home that night, fully expecting to see Reagan naked and waiting for him, it was Shantae who greeted him at the door in nothing but a see-through teddy and apron.

  “Hey, baby,” she said, giving him a long, passionate kiss. Surprised, Dorian pulled back, masking his disappointment with surprise.

  “Wow. What are you doing here?”

  Shantae smiled and twirled, the short lace skirt billowing up enough to give a peek of her ass cheeks. “Since you couldn’t get away for our Valentine’s weekend, I wanted to bring it to you.”

  “Thanks, babe.” His eyes darted around the kitchen, though he had a feeling Reagan was long gone. “Should you be dressed like that with your sister here?”

  “Oh, I sent her away.” Shantae turned around and walked back to the stove, her black heels clicking against the hardwood with each step.

  Dorian snuck a quick look at his phone. Reagan hadn’t called. “So, I get you to myself all weekend?” he fished, pulling off his coat.

  “Aaaall weekend, babe,” Shantae exaggerated and tossed a flirtatious wink over her shoulder. “You’re all mine.” She dipped her finger in whatever was simmering in the pot and turned around, her finger stretched out in Dorian’s direction. “Come taste this, babe. I tried a new sauce for the lamb, but I don’t know if I like it.”

  “Um, one second, sweetie.” Dorian made his way toward the stairs. “I just got off, so let me shower really quick before we get the evening started.”

  Shantae licked her lips. “Oh yeah. Get it all nice and clean for Mama to taste.” She giggled and turned back around to finish prepping her meal.

  Dorian darted up the stairs and closed their bedroom door. He then went into the bathroom and closed that door as well. Quickly turning the knob to the faucet, he made sure the water was on full blast before pulling out his phone and dialing Reagan’s number.

  She answered on the first ring. “What the hell is she doing?” She sounded as if she had been crying. “Dammit, Dorian, your wife is ruining everything. I had something planned for you for Valentine’s Day.”

  “I know, baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Dorian stepped farther from the door. The water was loud, but he lowered his voice anyway. “This was a shock to me too. You know I wanted to spend today with you.”

  “Then leave. I’m at a hotel. Come see me.”

  Dorian sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “You know I can’t, baby.”

  “Why not?” Her whine definitely belied her age.

  “Baby, let me try and get away, okay?” Dorian offered. He didn’t know how, but that was the best he could do.

  “You promise?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you.”

  Dorian hesitated, as he always did when she uttered those words. “You too.” That was his usual response and one that seemed to satisfy her. As always. Reagan blew kisses through the phone and hung up.

  Dorian undressed and stepped into the shower, but stress had him just standing there for a moment, letting the water beat against his tense muscles. He knew there would be a time when both his life and his secret life would collide. He should’ve known it was entirely too good to be true and the shit wouldn’t last. But he had insisted on riding until the wheels fell off. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? There was no way he could be in two places at once.

  Dorian emerged from the shower and picked up his phone again. This time, he dialed another number, all the while trying to work out the details in his head.

  “What’s up, man?” Roman greeted.

  “Hey, I need a favor. You busy?”

  “A little. You know Bridget done hooked up something for Valentine’s Day. What you need?”

  Dorian pulled back his phone to check the time before placing it back on his ear. “Can you call me in like thirty minutes?”

  “For what?”

  “It’s a long story. I just need to get away for a minute.” Dorian blurted out the first truthful-sounding lie that came to his head. “I forgot to get Shantae a gift, and I need to get away without the shit looking obvious. So, call me and say some emergency came up at work and you need me to do something.”

  Roman laughed. “Man, you crazy, but yeah, I got you.”

  “Thirty minutes, Roman.”

  “Yeah, man. Just get Shantae what I got Bridget. This big-ass dick.”

  Dorian rolled his eyes at his friend’s weak attempt at humor. “Thirty minutes,” he repeated again and hung up. He sent a quick text to Reagan to let her know he would be there in an hour, made sure the ringer on his phone was turned completely up, and threw on some sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tucked his phone in his pocket and trekked back downstairs to wait for the night to play out.

  Shantae had already plated the meal in the dining room and was pouring them each a glass of wine when Dorian entered.

  The lamb looked and smelled heavenly, braised on a bed of rice with steamed cabbage on the side. A bottle of Roscato was chilling in a bucket of ice next to the table and she had set out a small gift-wrapped box and a card beside his plate.

  “Smells delicious, baby,” Dorian said, taking his seat at the table. As discreetly as possible, he placed his phone on the table as well.

  Shantae grinned as she joined him. “I wanted to do something special for you,” she said. “I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately but, Dorian, I want you to know how much I love you. We got us.” She lifted her glass and Dorian did the same, clinking them together.

  “We got us,” he repeated.

  “What do you think?” Shantae asked, as soon as he took a bite into the lamb. Truthfully, Dorian was sure it was great. But anxiety had numbed his tongue because he couldn’t taste any of the flavors, just counting down the minutes until he was sure his phone would ring. He nodded and smiled, forking another huge helping in his mouth. His stomach was bubbling, and it was a wonder he could swallow anything at all.

  When Dorian was sure Roman should be about to call, he stood with his plate in hand. “Let me get a little more. You want seconds?”

  “Not just yet. Saving room for dessert.”

  Dorian carried his plate back to the kitchen taking slow, calculated steps. He stood at the stove, deliberately taking his time in piling more food on his plate. Sure enough, he heard the familiar jingle of his phone resonating from the dining room. He held his breath and waited.

  “Dorian, your phone.” Shantae’s voice rose over the shrill ringtone.

  “Who is it, babe?” he called back.

  “Roman.”

  “Can you answer i
t for me please? It’s probably nothing important.” He stood in place, listening as Shantae greeted his friend on the phone. Then her footsteps as she joined him in the kitchen.

  “He says it’s important.” She held the phone out to him. “Something about paperwork at the hospital.”

  Dorian feigned a confused frown before accepting the phone.

  “Hey, Ro. What’s up, man?”

  Roman laughed. “Is that good enough?” he asked. “Or do I need to come over there with tears on bended knee?”

  Dorian’s eyes slid to Shantae. She was waiting and watching patiently at his side. He cleared his throat. “Well, did you get them to sign off on the procedure?”

  “Man, you really playing it up.” Roman was completely tickled by the circumstances.

  “Damn, man, now?” Dorian continued his role-play, ignoring his friend’s laughter. “All right, all right, here I come.” He clicked the phone off and turned to Shantae, his eyes already filled with regret.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I have a procedure for next week and didn’t sign off on the authorizations.” Dorian shook his head in mock annoyance. “I need to run back to the office really quick to get the papers.”

  “Why now, babe? It’s Friday night. It can’t wait until Monday?”

  Dorian shook his head. “I’m afraid it can’t. She is being admitted in the morning.”

  “Does she even need the surgery?” Shantae teased with a pout. “Tell her like you tell me, she is beautiful and doesn’t need her tummy tucked or her breasts bigger.”

  Dorian chuckled. “I’ll use that one in my next consultation, babe.” He kissed Shantae’s forehead, ignoring the dejected expression. “I won’t be long, sweetie. I promise. And hey, we got all weekend, remember?”

  “I know, but . . .” She sighed and nodded in understanding. “Okay. Just hurry back, please.”

  Dorian lifted the back of her hand to his lips to kiss it. “I will,” he promised and nearly broke out in a run to grab his keys, shoes, and coat. He just hoped Reagan was up and waiting for him.

  “It’s a shame,” Reagan said, her fingers toying with the hair on Dorian’s chest. They had just finished round three and were now cuddling in the hotel’s king-size bed. Somehow, “hurry back” had turned into four hours, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave, and Reagan damn sure wasn’t letting him go. He knew Shantae had been calling, but he had put his phone on vibrate and left it in his pants pocket in the other room of the suite. He would just have to deal with the consequences later.

  He pulled Reagan closer, loving the feel of her body against his. Her skin was still slick with sweat and her favorite position was her leg thrown over his so her pussy could rub on his thigh.

  “What’s a shame?” he asked.

  “You and my sister,” Reagan said. “A shame y’all are still together after all these years when you’re so clearly in love with me.”

  Dorian sighed, already hating where this conversation was heading. “Reagan, let’s just enjoy this moment. Don’t ruin it.”

  “How am I ruining it?” She lifted her head from his chest, her tresses tickling his shoulder with the movement. “You do love me, don’t you?”

  “Reagan, please.”

  She let out a frustrated sigh and turned over, breaking their contact. “Fine, I won’t mention it anymore. Damn.”

  Dorian leaned over to kiss her bare shoulder. “Can’t you just appreciate that I’m here now? I could be at home with her, but look where I am. Right where I want to be.”

  Reagan warmed at the tender words and she raised her arms over her head, the gesture lifting her breasts closer to Dorian’s face. “You right, baby. Show me again how much you want to be here. You know how much I crave you.”

  Dorian leaned in to lick her nipple but stopped short when something caught his eye. Reagan had her eyes closed so he took the opportunity to peer closer, sure he wasn’t seeing what he thought he was seeing.

  “Reagan, what the fuck is that?” he snapped. Angry, he sat up, snatching Reagan’s arm with him.

  “What are you . . .” She trailed off when her eyes followed his down to the tender flesh inside her elbow. The scars were healing, but the razor-thin impressions had left white welts in her chocolate skin. Embarrassed, she snatched her arm out of his grasp and tossed her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Reagan, since when do you cut yourself?” Dorian jumped up too so he could catch her before she darted into the bathroom. “You promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid. You promised.” He was clutching her by the shoulders now, squeezing and shaking at the realization.

  “It’s not stupid,” Reagan shouted in tears. “I do it to cope with the pain.”

  “What pain?”

  “You and Shantae. Dammit, Dorian, how am I supposed to feel?”

  “I don’t believe this shit.” Dorian threw up his hands in frustration. “Who am I with all the damn time? Who am I having sex with? Who am I sneaking off to be with? What the hell else do you want me to do, Reagan?”

  “But you’re still with her! You’re still married to her.”

  “But you knew this when this shit started, Reagan. Don’t act brand new now.”

  “I’m not acting brand new.” Reagan turned and stormed into the bathroom. “But shit changes, Dorian.”

  “Ain’t shit changed. You changed. Don’t want to deal with the situation, then leave me the hell alone.”

  It came flying toward Dorian’s head before he had time to duck. Thankfully, the object wasn’t too big, but the news was big enough to suffocate him. The little pregnancy test landed window side up, and the pink plus sign glared back up at him, validating the proof that yes indeed, shit had changed. For the worse.

  Chapter Twenty

  Shantae’s name flashed across his cell phone for the fifth time, but Dorian rejected it once again. He sighed, sitting back in his office chair, and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He knew he should feel bad for ignoring her, especially after how he had been acting lately, but he was too preoccupied with Reagan. And at the moment, he was waiting on her very important phone call.

  Dorian swiped the screen to reject his wife’s call once more. Then, thinking better of it, he flipped open to his text messages and shot her a quick I’M IN A MEETING. CALL YOU BACK IN A BIT.

  He was partially surprised Shantae was even calling at all. Ever since he had stood her up on Valentine’s Day, she hadn’t really had too much to say to him.

  He had finally made it back to the house after coddling Reagan for a bit. Of course, Shantae had been furious, and he couldn’t really do anything but toss out some half-assed excuse about car trouble that he doubted she even believed. But with Reagan’s pregnancy announcement still weighing heavy on his mind, he didn’t even have the energy to try for a better excuse. He vaguely remembered Shantae still cussing his ass out, but that had been nearly two weeks ago, and between him and the two sisters, the tension in the house was like a thick fog. Somewhere, his life had fallen apart, and he had no idea how to get it back on track.

  Sighing, Dorian glanced at his phone again, anxious for Reagan’s number to come up on the screen. Still nothing. The notification signaled Shantae had left a voice mail message this time. Curiosity outweighed his apathy, so Dorian dialed into his voice mail box to listen to what she had to say.

  “Hey. It’s me.” Her voice was low and Dorian’s heart broke when he could easily detect hurt over the anger. “Listen. We really need to talk. Can you come straight home after work? Maybe we can go somewhere for privacy, but I have some things to say, and it may or may not change us and our marriage. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  Dorian sat the phone back on his desk and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. Dammit. he knew it was only a matter of time before Shantae would get restless. He prayed to God she wouldn’t ask for a divorce.

  He loved his wife, even though it didn’t really seem like it, since he h
ad been thinking entirely with his other head the past few months. But if it came down to choosing, there was no choice to be made. Shantae was his wife. She still had his heart.

  Of course, Reagan wouldn’t like it, but she would get over it. He had some love for her to a degree, but it wasn’t like the special bond he shared with his wife. He and Shantae had been through hell and back.

  Anyway, after today, Reagan probably wouldn’t want to have anything else to do with him.

  “Man, you don’t hear me talking to you?”

  Kenny’s sharp voice snatched Dorian out of his thoughts, and he glanced up to see his friend framing the doorway. “Oh, my bad,” he said. “I was thinking about something.”

  “I could tell.” Kenny came on in and sat down. “You all right? You seem distracted.”

  “Just women problems.”

  “Who, Shantae? What happened?”

  Dorian shook his head. “Nah. It’s other stuff. No big deal.”

  “If you ask me, both them sisters probably a little cuckoo.” Kenny emphasized his statement by twirling his index finger around his temple.

  Dorian had to chuckle. “Why you say that?”

  “Shit, if Shantae’s anything like Reagan, I don’t know how the hell you survived this long.”

  The statement piqued his interest, and Dorian realized he never really asked him about their little date. Reagan hadn’t said much either, except she sent him home early. He didn’t know why he even cared, but since Kenny had put it out there . . .

  “You never even told me how the date went anyway. What happened?”

  Kenny rolled his eyes. “Man, that bitch is on some crazy shit. One minute, she’s a mute. Not talking, not really listening to me. Just staring off into space. I’m asking her questions and she really ain’t got much to say. So, I’m thinking, okay. She’s shy. Then the next minute, she’s in tears. Claiming she can’t ever do anything right. Can’t find a man. Then, she gets angry at me. Talking about I only wanted to go out with her to get some, and that’s all niggas cared about. All this shit, Dorian, in a matter of minutes. I mean she went through seventy-six personalities before the waitress even brought our appetizers.”