by Mz. Robinson
“Fuck me, Diamond!” he repeated, this time in English.
Tiny droplets of sweat trickled from my skin down to his as I continued pounding my kitten against him. I felt a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach as my cave became wetter and wetter with every second, until there was finally a wave of satisfaction coursing through my body. I leaned back until I was lying flat on my back between his spread legs.
Gator sat up, grabbed my ankles, then pushed my legs back until my toes were pointing above the crown of my head. He pulled himself up on his knees, using every muscle of his two hundred-pound physique as he assumed the position between my legs. The sound of him grunting, combined with his sac slapping against my ass and my gushing kitten, played in the air like a sweet melody. I felt his entire body shake as he pushed in and out before finally plunging as far as nature would allow. “Mmm…” He groaned savagely before collapsing beside me on the bed.
“Mmm is right,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“Come here, my love.”
I rolled over on my side, then lay with my head on Gator’s sweat-drenched chest.
He wrapped his strong arms around me, holding me tight, then kissed the top of my head lightly. “After five years, you still know how to bring out the beast in me,” he said.
“Good,” I said, tracing my fingertips over his pecks. “I plan to continue for many more.”
A light tweet resounded from his phone, indicating he had a text message.
“I’m retiring tomorrow” he said, exhaling loudly.
“You always say that,” I reminded him.
“What if I mean it this time?”
“Baby, we both know that in your line of work, it takes more preparation than a day to walk away,” I said lovingly.
“But I’m the boss,” he said with slight arrogance.
“True…and you’re a damn good one,” I said, stroking his ego, “and because you are, it makes it even harder to walk away.”
The words I’d recited to him were not only to stroke his ego; they were also true. If my husband had been a regular white-collar worker with a respectable profession and a federally appreciated corporation, he could have announced his resignation, chosen a successor, cleaned off his desk, and walked away without a second look. However, the love of my life made his living on the opposite side of the law. Despite my lack of knowledge as to how, when, and what he did to keep his organization running smoothly, I knew he’d invested too much to simply walk away. Besides, no matter what Gator stated about retiring, we both knew and agreed that when a corporation was built on an illegal hustle or bloodshed, there were only two options out: prison or death.
When his phone tweeted again, I raised my head, allowing him to slide out from under me, then propped myself up on my elbows. I watched as he walked over to the dresser, where he kept his phone. As he moved, I admired the slope of his wide back that led down to his tight brown ass and finally introduced his long, well-crafted thighs and calves. I had seen my husband naked countless times before, but each time felt like the first.
“Interesting,” he said, staring at his phone.
“What is it?” I asked, climbing out of bed.
“There’s a situation I need to tend to,” he said, turning to face me. His eyes scanned my naked body, from my lips to my breast, then down to my toes and back up again.
“Exactly how long is this ‘situation’ gonna take?” I questioned, making quotes in the air around it. “Do I need to remind you of the party we’re supposed to have tonight?” I walked over to my armoire and removed my silk robe.
“No,” he said, “but I know you’re going to.”
I slipped the material over my shoulders, then secured the belt around my waist. “Don’t get cute,” I said, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
He smiled, then laughed lightly. “I couldn’t forget the party even if I wanted to,” he said. “Last night, while you were sleeping peacefully, I was making it happen.”
I smiled. “You always do, baby.” I was pleased that Gator had pulled the strings to satisfy me, but I wasn’t surprised; he always did what he had to do to make things happen, good or bad.
“I’ll be there and on time, my love.” He walked over to me and kissed my lips tenderly. “Thank you for being the best part of me.”
“You’re welcome, boo,” I said, smiling brightly. “Thank you for recognizing.”
“Sexy and conceited,” he said, slapping me on the ass.
“Not conceited…convinced,” I retorted, using his own words against him. “I only speak the truth.”
“That you do,” he said with a broad grin. “I’m gonna go shower so I can take care of my business before tonight. Care to join me?”
I knew if I accepted my husband’s offer, it would lead to yet another round of lovemaking, this time up against the shower wall. I also had things I needed to tend to before the party, but that didn’t stop me from slipping the robe off my shoulders and allowing it to fall to the bedroom floor. “Do you even have to ask?” I questioned, then sashayed toward our bathroom, with Gator following closely behind me like a little lost puppy, practically drooling.
* * * * *
An hour later, I stood at my bathroom vanity, applying a light layer of MAC conditioner to my lips while paying homage to my reflection. “You still got it,” I said aloud.
I pulled out the bottom right drawer, far enough so I could feel around under the bottom of the right side of the metal rack. I pulled back the wide piece of duct tape, pulled out a round container, and set it on the counter. “The shit we do for love,” I mumbled, flipping my birth control open.
I knew Gator wanted children, but I felt we weren’t ready yet. I was still enjoying my freedom, like being able to pack up and go whenever I wanted. Besides, my husband’s empire was making far too much money, and he had too many irons in the fire to be dealing with the stress of fatherhood at the moment. I chose not to be honest about my feelings when it came to having children because I believed in keeping my man happy, even if I had to do so by humoring him with a lie.
I took my last pill in the pack, turned off my bathroom light, grabbed my cell off my nightstand, and retrieved my handbag from my closet. I dropped the empty container into my purse and left the room. I descended the mahogany staircase while I speed-dialed Madison Drugs, my pharmacy of choice. I went through the automated system and confirmed my refill.
As I strolled through the foyer toward the kitchen, I heard something that sounded like music videos coming from the television. Vanessa never watched TV or listened to music while she was working, as she felt hard work left no time for distractions, so I knew someone other than Vanessa was in our kitchen. The sounds of laughter and chatter echoed in the air as I got closer. “Emerson,” I said to myself.
At six-three, Emerson didn’t carry an ounce over a hundred and thirty pounds and was slightly awkward looking. On the outside, he appeared to be the kid bullies would love to pick on. His eyes protruded out of his head like some kind of freaky fish, and he had big buck teeth; for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why his parents had never had them fixed. In spite of his nerdy looks, though, Emerson was quick with his hands when it came to fighting and martial arts. It earned him a lot of respect from his classmates, and what he didn’t earn with those skills was given without question when they discovered his family tree. Since his recent high school graduation, he’d been spending a lot more time at our home. I didn’t mind because he was a smart kid who never caused any problems, and I liked having him around.
“Good morning,” I said, entering the kitchen.
Emerson was seated at the marble kitchen island with a half-empty bowl of Fruit Loops in front of him and his eyes glued to the flat-screen TV mounted under the cabinet. “’Sup, Auntie,” he said, looking over at me. His bulging eyes grew bigger while he stared at me. “Where you goin’ in that dress? And does Uncle Gator know?”
I laughed, then continued my stroll t
o the refrigerator. I’d chosen to wear my blue, leopard print Cavalli dress for my errands. The figure-slimming dress stopped inches above my knees and had a plunging neckline that showed an abundance of skin. I set my ensemble off with a pair of black, peep-toe, six-inch heels. “Auntie is grown and sexy,” I said over my shoulder. “She wears what she wants when she wants.” I removed a strawberry parfait drink from the refrigerator door, then gave Emerson my undivided attention.
“I hear ya.” Emerson chuckled. “Someday, I want to wife me a chick as bad as you.”
I smiled while twisting off the cap on the bottle. “And one day you will,” I said reassuringly. I took a sip of my smoothie while easing down on the high-backed chair next to him. “Just stay away from the ratchet hoes.”
“I am,” he said proudly, “especially now that I’m gettin’ money.” He looked at me with a goofy grin that stretched from one side of his dark chocolate skin to the other.
“You found a job?” I asked.
“Nope…a career.” He grinned, standing. “Unc put me in the game.”
“What!?” I asked, completely caught off guard. I’d always known there was a slight possibility of Emerson following in his uncle’s risky footsteps, but I’d never anticipated it to be so soon. I watched as he carried his bowl to the sink, poured what was left of his breakfast down the garbage disposal, then set the bowl down.
“He didn’t tell you?” he asked, looking at me. “I’m in collections now.”
The sound of Emerson’s cell phone ringing brought our conversation to a halt.
“Yeah,” he said. “Umm…hmm. Okay, I can handle it. All right. Naw, trust me. I got this.” He ended his call and placed his phone in his back pocket. “Gotta go, Auntie. Business calls.” He smiled, then threw up two fingers, throwing me the deuces, then exited the kitchen.
“Emerson!” I called, following behind him.
“What’s up?” he asked, turning around to face me.
“Be safe,” I said.
“Always,” he said.
* * * * *
I stepped out my front door and found AJ waiting for me, standing next to the passenger door of my Mercedes CLS, wearing dark slacks and a blue button-down shirt, looking like a chocolate gladiator. He gave me a cocky grin as he molested me with eyes. “Where to?” he asked.
“Madison Drugs,” I said.
“Really?” he said, licking his lips seductively. “Who’s home?”
“No one. Why?”
“You know why,” he said.
There was one thing I’d never do, and that was screw another man in the home I shared with Gator. AJ knew that, so he grabbed me by the hand and led me around the back of the house to the deck. He pulled me up against his body and smiled, then slowly begin to push the hem of my dress up.
“Not now,” I said, grabbing his hands.
“Come on, baby.” He moaned, kissing my neck softly. “Just a little bit.”
The feel of his lips against my skin, combined with the way his hands caressed my back then cupped my breast through the dress, sent my hormones soaring. I wanted to indulge in a little playtime with AJ, but I had things to do, not to mention I didn’t want to risk getting caught. I also knew AJ would not stop begging and pressing me until I broke him off a little something. I eased down his body, squatting on my heels, then unbuckled his pants. “Make it quick,” I ordered, pulling his dick out. I spat on the head of his soldier, then took him in my mouth, wasting no time in deep-throating every inch of him.
AJ grabbed my head, thrusting his hips forward. I sucked, licked, and sucked again, massaging his sac in the palm of my hand.
“Shit!” He grunted. “Right there, baby. Right there.”
The sound of his heavy breathing made me jealous. I wanted to feel him, even if it was a quickie. “Ten minutes,” I said, standing.
“Bend over,” he ordered.
I looked up and thought I saw something moving in one of the second-story guestroom windows. “Oh shit,” I blurted, pushing AJ away from me. I stepped back and looked up at the window again; the curtains were waving back and forth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s upstairs,” I said frantically. “I-I think they saw us!”
“What!?” He quickly adjusted himself and zipped up his pants.
“I think I just saw someone staring out the window,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I thought you said nobody’s here?”
“I don’t know! I thought they were all gone!” I snapped, walking over to the patio door. I was convinced my life as I knew it was about to change. Emerson? I thought. No. I watched him leave. I hurried through the kitchen, upstairs to the bedroom. Stepping inside, I found the room empty. The curtain continued to move back and forth with the air blowing from the overhead vent.
“The driveway is empty,” AJ stated, entering the room.
I was partially relieved. It was possible that it was just the curtains, but the one thing I was sure of was that it was a sign. I needed to cut things off with AJ before something went wrong.
Chapter 8
The Huntsville Country Club was where the elite went to mingle and entertain. From the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the round, glass tables adorned with lit candles and white and yellow roses, to the crystal dishes and sterling silver utensils, everything in the room screamed elegance and grace, including the tuxedo-clad servers. On any normal given day, harps and violins would serenade diners, but for my party, my hubby had hired a deejay and had given him specific instructions to play all my favorite songs. I had to commend the brother, because he was doing an excellent job.
“I’m living my life like it’s golden, living my life like it’s golden…” The sultry voice of Jill Scott flowed through the room like verbal seduction.
I swayed my hips under the sparkling, iridescent lights illuminating the dance floor, rocking and rolling my hips like no one was watching. I was engulfed in my own rhythm, lost in my own groove. I tossed my hair back and forth while raising my arms above my head and snapping my fingers. I felt like money, and there wasn’t a shadow of doubt in my mind that in my designer gown and stilettos, I looked like money too. The diamond bracelet caressing my arm and the five-carat yellow diamond ring on my finger, make-up anniversary gifts from my husband, sparkled as I gripped my own waist. I puckered my lips seductively and blew a kiss to Gator, who was sitting with his sister, Venetta, and her husband, Terrance, at one of the many tables surrounding the dance floor. I smiled at Venetta and blew her a kiss as well. She shook her head then returned the gesture.
I winked, then focused on my husband; he looked distinguished and handsome in his dark suit and tie. The glimmering gold in his tie not only matched my golden gown but also accentuated his skin beautifully. His lips curved up in an appreciative smile as he nodded his head in my direction. There was a look of sincere admiration and pride in his eyes.
I casually glanced around the clubhouse ballroom. The room was filled with well-dressed gentleman and ladies, wearing only the finest designer gowns and custom-tailored suits, all business associates of my husband’s. They were all living, breathing examples of how good life could be for people who had the cash flow to make things happen.
I briefly thought about my family. I wished my brother and mother could have been in attendance, but for Randall, it was physically impossible, and Mama just didn’t give a damn. Not long after our family fallout, Randall had been busted on an array of charges, including theft of property and possession. He was sent down south, sentenced to four years. There were times when I wished I’d taken Gator’s original offer to give him a job, but we couldn’t turn back the hands of time; our cards had been dealt, and I wasn’t about to get a new hand.
I recited the words of the song in my head while thinking they really didn’t apply to me. I wasn’t living my life like it was golden. Hell, my life was platinum, and there was absolutely nothing I would have changed about it. I exhaled as
the song came to an end and strutted proudly on my heels as I approached the table where my husband sat.
“Enjoying yourself?” Gator asked, standing to greet me.
“Can’t you tell?” I smiled, waiting for him to pull out my chair.
“I can,” he said sweetly, “and I’m happy you’re pleased.”
I sat down, then waited for Gator to do the same before leaning in and pressing my lips against his cheek. “Thank you for this,” I said.
“You’re welcome, love,” he said.
“I still can’t believe you turned down a make-up vacation,” Venetta said, shaking her head.
She was dressed in a simple but elegant red, one-shoulder gown that stopped just below her knees. She and Terrance had also decided to coordinate for the night. The bowtie on his dark tux complemented Venetta’s dress and glowed against his dark skin. From his height to his physique, it was clear that Emerson had gotten his looks from his father.
“Believe it,” I said. “Besides, I’m not always extravagant.” I looked around the table as they erupted in laughter, one by one.
“Diamond, you’re the most exquisite, expensive jewel in this room,” Gator said. “You were born to be extravagant.”
I pondered his words, then nodded my head in agreement. “I guess it’s a good thing you can afford me,” I teased.
“That it is,” Gator agreed. “Terrance, care to join me on the terrace?” He pulled two cigars from inside his jacket and handed one across the table to his brother-in-law.
“I’m with you,” Terrance said, standing.
Gator rose from the table, kissed me on the cheek, then walked off with Terrance following behind him.
“Do you know even half these people?” Venetta asked, looking around the room.
“Nope.”
“We’ve come a long way.”
“I know!” I said, smiling.”
“Never take it for granted,” she said seriously.
“Of course I won’t,” I said.
She looked like she wanted to say more but didn’t. I’d never known Venetta not to speak her mind, so I assumed whatever it was it couldn’t have been important.
