“First of all,” Sinclair said, matching his calm, “I don’t know who you are used to chastising, but you have mistaken me for some punk. All this showboating and threatening is child’s play. I get that you love Xenia, okay?”
Saint remained quiet as he tried with all of his might to keep his cool, lest his eyes turn blood red.
“Since this is what you called me here for, I am letting you know that you wasted your time because you must be threatened by me, fearing you may—”
“No, I don’t you see as a threat, Sinclair. You are not even on my level.” Saint sneered. “I see you as someone who is messin’ up my wife’s happiness, and you have an ulterior motive. I remember your little visit to her right before she and I got married, and I know what that was about. You weren’t expecting me to be there, but I was, and you got sent away. Now, let’s be clear. This has little to do with my views of you, but it will end with things far more personal if you keep this shit up. You’ve been lying this entire time and I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Nah, I don’t think you’re a punk,” Saint laughed raucously, “I think you are a manipulator and a liar and would stop at nothing to have your way. Well, you and I have that in common. I actually did you a favor by asking you to meet me here versus my first inclination, which was just to roll up to your house and beat the fuck out of you. If it weren’t for Xenia begging me not to, your entire body would be in a goddamn sling right now. You’ve disrespected me and mine one too many times, yet, I still try. I gave you a damn chance here.” He imbued his tone with steel, cold and cutting.
A pregnant pause ensued. Sinclair’s eyes grew as he sized Saint up and in that instant, Saint read his mind. It said: This motherfucker is crazy!
“Okay, okay.” Sinclair smiled and threw up both hands as he shook his head. “Let’s switch gears here. Saint, contrary to this ridiculous conversation, I respect you as a man and as a professional. I am not even offended by your teachings. I believe, actually, there is some truth in what you say. I respect that you are an intellect, a teacher, a therapist, all of that. I get it.”
Saint clapped his hands. “What? You want an award or something? Who gives a shit? I don’t need your stamp of approval, like that somehow smoothes over the bullshit you pulled.”
“Look Saint, I simply asked Xenia to finish some paperwork over dinner. You deny it, but it is quite clear. You are threatened by me, though you shouldn’t be...” Sinclair rolled his eyes and huffed as he took the wine glass from the waiter, nodded in thanks and took a sip.
“Nah.” Saint laughed and lay back in his chair as if it were a deck chair at the swimming pool versus a seating spot in an exclusive five star restaurant. “I know what went down, and so do you. You’re using her, just like you always have. On a mothafucka’s coattails and when you don’t get what you want, you get down and dirty. Well, I’m the king of things dirty, unsightly and downright filthy, Sinclair.”
“So you admit you are a slob, good to know. With your current behavior, we can both agree on that.”
“What’s that?” Saint said coolly, a big smile on his face. “Your come-back…you’re so fucking lame. We both know what this is really about…lawsuits, illegal shit. My baby is just the catalyst. I know it has fucked up your head this whole time, wondering how I knew what I did about you…ancient Chinese secret, haha!” Saint taunted, waving his finger in Sinclair’s direction.
The color slowly faded from the man’s face.
“You told her you wanted to squash what happened in the past, talk it over. She told you ‘no’, there was nothing to discuss, as she’s told you countless times before and you got ballsy because your little plan was falling apart. I’m letting you know, you can’t do that shit without consequences. Xenia doesn’t need that fucking show! I already told you the woman told me emphatically, she was going to resign, fight the contract stating she hadn’t been given all the information but being the man that I am,” Saint said, pointing to himself, “knowing how much she wanted this, I told her to stay put, that everything would be just fine and now here I am, making sure that what I told her comes true. Trying to destroy me through my woman…classic.” He fixed Sinclair with a cold stare. “Don’t get mad at me for takin’ care of mine! When I see something I want, I go after it and claim it so I don’t end up having fucked up conversations like this later down the line and being a Mr. Grayson at the other end of the damned table.”
He could see the sudden rage in Sinclair’s eyes, and delighted in the nerve he’d struck.
“I don’t think that—”
“She’s married now, taken, off the market. Your plan backfired, suck it up. You leave her alone. This isn’t a request. I won’t let you mess this up for her. The woman just had my baby, our third child, you feel me? We are wrapped, sealed and contained, you could never get her back even if you were the last man on Earth, do you understand me?”
“Are you finished?”
“Not by a long shot. Sinclair. We both know this is deeper and bigger than what we are discussing right now.” He waved down the waiter before Sinclair could respond.
“Sorry to have kept waving you away,” Saint said as he cracked open his menu.
“That’s quite alright, sir. Are you ready to order?”
“I am, and I’m sure Sinclair won’t hesitate this time, either. You snooze, you lose.” Saint smirked at him and snapped his fingers, laughing heartily. “Time is wastin’! Let me get the Sashimi of Toro and grilled shitake, oh, and your sushi special today.”
“Why don’t you let me order first, Saint? I promise to give you what I don’t eat, so that you may have my leftovers again, for old times’ sake?” Saint didn’t miss the joker type smile that spread across his face, growing wider by the second.
Saint glared at him then cracked up laughing as he slapped the table. “Good one, Sinclair!”
He looked at the waiter, still laughing, then back at Sinclair and pointed at him. “This mothafucka really doesn’t know who he is fuckin wit’!” Saint laughed so hard, he was now holding his stomach and doubling over. He picked up his wine glass and caught his reflection once again, noticing the vein in the middle of his forehead protruding as his stress level rose and a subtle heat in his eyes ignited.
The waiter laughed nervously back in response, and stood uncertainly at the table as the air around the them grew thicker.
Saint punched the table, startling Sinclair who stopped guffawing in midstream, then calmly set the glass down.
“Sinclair,” Saint said, refolding his napkin. “I like that...that was cute...yeah.” He kept fidgeting with his napkin then looked up at the man, his eyes full of life and focus.
“You know,” he said. “Your leftovers, as you call them, feel brand new and never touched after the first couple of inches inside. I been to places you weren’t man enough to visit. Unchartered, sweet terrain because…you couldn’t go the distance. Maybe you came up short, like a midget…oh excuse me, don’t want to be politically incorrect—a little person, lying in a ditch.”
Saint let the insult linger and marinate in the air, rejoicing in Sinclair’s stony expression.
“As a peace offering, let me order for you, bruh. How about you get the uh,” Saint snapped his fingers and looked at the waiter, as if prompting him to jog his memory, “Damn, what do y’all call that shit? The...busted lip soufflé and the uh....damn, my memory is so fucked up lately…the uh, if you flirt with my wife again you’re fucked or if I hear any more bullshit salad, it’s on. It comes with a side of beatin’ the brakes off a wannabe suave mothafucka so bad that he goes from a damn ’82 corolla, ’cause you really ain’t worth more than that, to a donated, second hand skateboard with one mothafuckin’ wheel! Yeah, try that shit out for mothafuckin’ size, Sinclair, real talk!...Ol’ Carlton from ‘Fresh Prince of Belaire’ lookin’ mothafucka! Funny, right?! We both got jokes ’nd shit!” Saint continued to laugh while the color washed from Sinclair’s complexion.
“Leftovers, pshht! I
got ya doggy bags right here… Theeeeese nuts, mothafucka. Say some slick shit like that again, you can suck on some rotten zombie balls, ’cause you’ll be a dead man, giving your own self some head! Coming at me sideways... Ain’t that ’bout a bitch! Now that we’ve made peace, let’s eat!” Saint clapped happily as Sinclair’s jaw dropped.
“What the?!”
“Now that that’s settled, I’m sure everything will be just fine. Drink up!” Saint offered gleefully. “This is on me! I need you to save all your money, in case, you know, you get any ideas. You’ll have medical bills ’nd shit to put your humpty dumpty ass back together again. We cool?” Saint grinned coyly. He picked up his wine glass and raised it as if in a toast.
Sinclair slowly picked up his glass and looked at him; confusion and a bit of fear married right then and there in his expression.
“Uh...yeah, we’re cool...” He cocked his head to the side and studied Saint with caution.
He realizes now I am one hundred percent certified crazy. Don’t fuck wit’ me, Sinclair. You’ll live to regret it.
“Good! Glad we understand one another now. Ice this out! Let’s freeze this moment in time. Cheers!”
~***~
How many times have we had sex?
Over 9,782 times, not including the back-to-back sessions. I stopped counting about a year ago…
Saint gripped Xenia’s leg, his thumb pressing into her inner thigh as she trembled and her back arched off the tousled bed. A slow, thin clear trail of her sweetness ran over his fingers as she writhed about, her mouth open, her eyes glazed and fixed on the ceiling, while Chaka Kahn droned in the background about “Everlasting Love”.
“Ahhhh....” she exhaled loudly, finally able to catch her breath. She shuddered and screamed as he pushed his cock back inside of her, hitting her sweet walls at a deep penetrating angle.
“Mmmmm, baby! Shit!” Saint pumped his pelvis, moving in slow circles, then sped up, making her shiver and scream more beneath him. His body felt slick with sweat while minutes of lovemaking turned into hours. He had no idea what was going on with him, but after he’d left the restaurant, he went straight home, undressed and waited for Xenia. He’d already arranged for the children to be picked up by his mother-in-law. He needed his wife so badly...
He lazily glanced at Xenia, her body slippery with perspiration and her eyes bloodshot from the back-to-back orgasms, many of them causing her to lose consciousness. As soon as he’d cum, he’d be ready again moments later, and here it continued, him breaking her down, bit by bit. She gasped for breath as he pushed harder and faster inside of her, his balls slapping loudly against the swollen, sweet fleshy folds of her drenched pussy. He felt the slight stickiness at each lunge, her juice raining on his dick and nuts, over and over.
“Suh...Saint,” she whispered breathlessly as he gently lifted her leg in the air, going deeper.
“You’re kill...ing me...I can’t...” She smiled weakly, her eyes shut as her body took his sweet beatdown. “I have to...rest...five… five times...in uh row...again…but it...feels...so...good!”
“...Just this one last time, baby,” he said quietly. “Almost there...” He pulled her smooth body toward him, and crossed his ankles to gain leverage while he pushed as far inside of her as he could, one strong hand on the headboard and the other securing her shivering temple to him. She hooked an arm around his neck and traced trembling lips along his collarbone.
Her phone continued to buzz, but he ignored it, continuously ravishing her until he left her as a mere splash of her original self.
“Uhhh!” He pumped hard, slamming into her body. She shrieked and dug long, shiny nails into his shoulder. “Uhhhh! Baby! I’m cummin’, baby! I’m...Uhhhh!” Saint groaned. Grabbing Xenia’s hips, he held tight. Her orgasm forced her to move away, and he couldn’t have that. He brought her flush to his body and buried his chin into her hair. Sliding a hand around to her ass, he grabbed an ample handful of flesh as the last of his warmth flowed into her body.
Then they lay there, spent, entering the soft afterglow of another world. After a few minutes, Xenia slowly opened her eyes, her face misty with beads of perspiration and her gaze lost, as if completely drugged with some unknown substance, some strange narcotic.
“...I can’t remember the last time, Saint, you did me five times in a row with no intermission. That...was ridiculous.” She lightly chuckled and he grinned in response, closed his eyes and held her tight while he ran his hand leisurely along her shoulder blade.
“I could go again...you sure you aren’t up to it, baby?” he said, opening his eyes.
“Saint.” She sat up, the midnight blue silk sheets gathering around her damp form as she pulled them tight to her naked body. “Don’t even go there.” She yawned and looked around the bedroom seemingly in a daze. “Now how the hell am I going to get out of this bed and get to my phone?” Her gaze settled on her iPhone with the shiny purple cover, sitting diagonally on their dresser next to two empty wine glasses and a half eaten bowl of white chocolate dipped strawberries he’d picked up on his quick gallop home.
“What do you mean?” He smirked as he indolently sat up and stretched, then leaned back against the headboard, an arm behind his head, showcasing a look of extreme satisfaction on his face.
“Don’t play dumb, Saint. You know exactly what I mean.” She chuckled. “You messed me up. My legs are like gelatin. I know I am going to fall if I attempt this.” Xenia gingerly moved to the side of the large bed, crawling on her knees until she reached the edge. Saint stifled a grin as he saw her grip the sides of the mattress and attempt to judiciously swing her leg over. She managed, exhaling as she maneuvered. The pussy was knocked the fuck out, no doubt throbbing, and he was pleased with his handiwork. Soon, the other leg was over the side of the bed and she took a deep breath. She looked over her shoulder; her eyes twinkled as they narrowed on him, and a mixture of resentment, love and amusement danced in her dark pupils.
Saint egged her on, blowing her a kiss, then lightly laughed as he continued to enjoy the show. He leaned back even farther, bringing one knee up, running his hand slowly across the dark hair on his legs and running his bare foot leisurely up and down the messed sheets.
Xenia stood and sighed with relief. She bore her weight on both feet, as if she were learning to walk all over again. She stood there, arms out, as if doing a balancing act on a beam but before she could land her next step, she stumbled and toppled over like a stack of children’s blocks. Everything went quiet.
“Xenia?” Saint lunged forward, taking a gander at her sprawled display.
She burst out laughing so loud, it echoed in the bedroom.
“I told your ass!” she called out between chuckles, her hands raised in mock exasperation, followed by a raspy breath and another burst of laughter. Fingers outstretched as if she were climbing out from a slippery well, she gripped the edges of the bed, forcing the mattress to bend and the dark sheets to bunch under her death grip. Effervescent bubbles of laughter grew in the pit of Saint’s gut at the sight. He briefly reflected on what happened, only adding fuel to the hilarious fire in his mind. He had lost sight of her just seconds after she fell to her sexual demise. She was standing there, and then she was gone, just that fast. Now, he could only see her clinging on for dear life. After pulling himself together, he put on a star performance. He got to his feet and raced around the side of the bed to help his fallen sweetheart. At the sight of her, he felt his stomach rippling in amusement again, and it took will power he didn’t possess to control the beast. He tried to wipe the smile off his face, but it was too late; she caught it as he hoisted her up in his arms, cradling her close to his chest, still feeling the warmth of the body he’d raptured until it was mere putty in his hands.
“You okay, baby?” he choked out, trying to relay seriousness in his tone but failing miserably. His voice was laced with laughter.
“Oh shut up!” Xenia laughed as she struggled in his hold. “You’re getting a
real kick out of this...fucked me until I can’t walk.”
“Baby, don’t be like that...” he cooed, laughing through a wide grin.
“That’s enough to keep your inflated ego alive and well for at least the next twenty-four hours.”
Saint continued laughing and kept her in his arms, though her weak attempts at escape did amuse him. He picked up her phone from the dresser, handed it to her and deposited her back down onto the bed, as though she weighed nothing more than a feather. As she listened to her messages, he went to the bathroom to take a hot shower, his body still twitching with delight...
~***~
“Xenia!” Saint hollered out moments later. His booming voice echoed from beyond the confines of the four small walls.
“What...is...it?” she said between clenched teeth as she gripped her phone. Her blood was boiling, bubbling up like overcooked pasta sauce set to high heat. The voicemail she’d just played made the hairs on her neck stand and her husband’s call for help was almost ignored.
“Shit! What the fuck?! Come here, baby! Help me!”
She knew that whatever it was, Saint was in no real danger. There was a little ‘something’ to his tone that typically let her know when he was making much ado about nothing. The tiniest inconveniences would cause him to make a fuss—such as his beloved, favorite peppermint shampoo, the one he had priority-mailed in from a tiny store in Manhattan, may have been empty, or possibly, it was a hang nail that had gone belligerent and dared to show itself to Saint’s golden eyes, mocking his meticulousness. All of these scenarios and more would warrant the same melodramatic reaction. Matter of fact, the more serious a matter, the calmer he appeared to be.
She rolled her eyes and resolved to go to his aid. Angrily, she cast the covers off of her and made her way to the bathroom. When she flung the damn door open, a burst of hot air laced with the scent of Coast soap and peppermint shampoo tickled her nose.
Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father Page 11
