He started to laugh at the absurdity of his current predicament. She soon joined him. “What kind of freaky shit was that? I don’t know how I feel about being slapped….” His words faded when he realized his legs were also numb. I think I may have burst a blood vessel.
Shontae raised her head and looked down at his face. “That shit was feeling so good, I had to slap you to slow you down. If you had kept that up, one of us was going to get pregnant.” He felt the moisture from the tears on her face.
“Please don’t cry, Shontae,” he said as he gently rubbed her back. The feeling slowly returning to his fingers.
“I can’t help it,” she mumbled into his chest. “That was just so damned good. I don’t know if I am happy, confused, or just tired from what you have done to me in the last couple of hours.” She sighed as she again looked down at him with a sadness in her eyes that caused him some concern.
I can hear what she is quietly not saying. I am learning to listen. Give her a minute and she will verbalize the rest.
She lay flat across his chest, releasing and dislodging him all at the same time. “I am a grown ass woman, not some girlfriend, and I will not be some chick you manipulate with that,” she touched him there, “and your good looks.”
His hands were gently rubbing her back as he enjoyed the post-coital euphoria. Shontae was laying down the rules and speaking to him in a tone no woman ever had.
“You can’t and won’t manipulate me by asking me to be your girlfriend. I am a woman and I want a relationship, but this relationship has to be fair.” Gawain understood and he didn’t care what she asked for, his answer was going to be yes.
You want a bar of gold? Sure, why the hell not…. I still can’t feel my toes.
Shontae was looking at him squarely and gazing deep into his eyes. The hazel eyes she had last night were now her own brown irises, asking him again for the reassuring words and adding a point of clarification.
“I am not some object to add to your rich boy toy chest.” Her eyes were starting to tear up again. “You never even gave me a chance to think about how your offer was going to impact my life or how your wish to play reserve duty boyfriend one weekend a month would completely change everything for me. You only could think about what you wanted, you never even thought about being fair to me.”
She was crying this time, not from the pleasure of his lovemaking skills, but from an overwhelming outpouring of emotion, and it was tugging at his heartstrings. “So what were you going to do next after you finished waving your dick around, go buy me a bed, pay my rent, put some money in an account for me?” She brushed the tears from her cheeks and stared at him dead in the face. Using his thumbs, he wiped away the next tear rolling down her cheek.
“I will be faithful and fair,” he said but she still did not break her gaze while he continued, “You will not be an afterthought or something that I do on a weekend.”
The gaze did not break still. “I will be a good man to you.” She kissed him then and headed for the bathroom. Gawain lay on the kitchen floor with his pants around his ankles, hungry, and completely whipped. He said a prayer of thanks for a real woman who challenged him and he was so damned happy he almost started to cry again.
Yep, she is a demon.
“Ahhhh, shit!” he said as he pulled himself up from the floor. This woman was going to break him.
It had been less than 24 hours and Shontae had taught him more about himself and how to treat a woman than he had learned in a lifetime. The crying, even if under the influence of a recreational drug, he understood was the release of all the years of pent up frustration, the bitterness, and the resentment. Today he stood in the most awkward of circumstances, feeling cleansed.
Gawain somewhat understood that Shontae, like many women, did not want a boyfriend but a relationship built on mutuality. She was not going to allow him to buy her affection. Ms. Jackson made it clear that he had to earn it, and what she gave, he had to reciprocate.
She had negotiated her terms clearly. He could have her but in return she wanted fancy clothes, money in her account, a new bedroom suit, and her rent to be paid.
“Who would have thunk?” he said to himself. Agreeing to go dancing had landed him in what was turning into a very serious relationship. He hurried to clean up so he could be ready for the rest of the weekend. And yes, he was buying a new damn bed, because he wasn’t going to worry about restacking books every time he made love to her. The feel good juice that course through his veins gave a feeling of anticipation. For the first time in many years, he was looking forward to his weekend.
At 4 pm his assistant called, asking for the address to send his standard “Thanks for a nice evening” bouquet.
“There is none this time,” Gawain informed him. He heard the audible gasp through the phone. He wasn’t always gallant, but he made the lady a promise, a promise he planned to keep.
It was wonderful weekend spent with Shontae, but only with the codicil that he would buy a new bed with a decent mattress. He was uncertain if it was the bed or the woman that had him stiff and sore, but either way, he had a new lady in his life who accepted him for who he actually was.
This is going to be interesting.
5
Chinks in the Armor
To say it had been a terrible day would be like comparing a mild row boating in a torrential rainstorm. Although he loved the private fashion galas in Paris, he was coming down with something. The flight back from Charles De Gaulle was delayed and arrived Thursday in Chicago in the early hours of the morning. Not only was he tired, he was feverish, hungry and frustrated. He would have liked to go home but in his current state, rest and hydration was needed. He wasn’t due at Shontae’s for another three days but he was so sick, he wasn’t sure he would make it home. He dialed her number, silently praying she would answer. “Are you heading my way?” she asked.
“I want to, but I am not doing too well,” his words were slow and sluggish.
Her voice was filled with concern, “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got some kind of cold or bug or something,” he paused, “I have a temp and am miserable.”
“Come on, I’ll be ready for you.”
“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked, more concerned with getting her sick as well.
“I’ll take care of you. Come to me.”
He tried to get a cab to Shontae’s place but no one would go to the hood in the wee hours of the morning. He stored the briefcase that held his laptop in a locker at the airport and grabbed his travel bag to take the train. His travel bag was weighing him down but he also had a shopping bag filled with goodies for his lady that was making the trek from point A to Lady S a miserable trip.
Sometime during the night it had started to rain. The night just got worse from there. A dark haired creep on the train attempted to rob him, but the look of sickness in Gawain’s eyes scared the would-be assailant, even more so after he sneezed in the man’s face.
He tried to get somewhat comfortable on the train, but he sat in something in one of the seats that was sure to ruin his favorite coat. Outside the station, as he walked the three blocks to her place, a delivery truck rode by, splashing him with sour water. This only worsened the trip by stepping in something that completely ruined his favorite pair of John Lobb ostrich loafers. By the time he reached her front door he was livid, fevered, and downright miserable.
He leaned on her front jamb as a broken man and before he could knock, she opened the door and stood there with two towels in her hands. She removed his overcoat and took off his wet hat and scarf, then helped him out of the wet pants and shoes. He lowered his achy body into the warm tub of water that was waiting for him and once he was settled in the tub, Shontae came in and began to wash his back. When she left him alone to complete his personal care, he could hear her in the kitchen preparing him something to eat. Sleep. Rest.
The table looked like a torture device from where he stood. All he wanted was the bed. A bed that was turned do
wn, sheets calling his name, waiting for his aching body to join it for the evening. The cool sheets welcomed his fevered body, enveloping it for an evening a comfort. “Sit up baby,” she told him as she tried to feed him the soup. Several attempts were made to get the soup down but his throat felt as if it was constricting around the small strands of saliva. “The soup is not going to happen,” he told her in a very weak voice.
“I just need to lay here for a while, sweetheart,” he whispered to her with drooping eyes. Eyes which closed on their own as he curled his body into a ball while trying to stay warm. The shivering started and his teeth were rattling. Suddenly there was warmth as she layered him with blankets after taking his temperature. The questions she was asking felt like gnats flitting about his head. I don’t understand. I just want to sleep. He could hear her on the phone, but could not care less. Sleep.
I just want to sleep.
Uncertain of how much time had lapsed, but when she woke him and fed him two pills and what tasted like Gatorade, he greedily accepted. Through the fever he had soaked his under clothes and was wet and shivering. Shontae changed his wet t-shirt and boxer briefs and pushed him to the other side of the bed.
I just need to sleep.
Every few hours, Shontae took his temperature, gave him a pill and more Gatorade, and changed his clothes. It took her almost a day and a half to break the fever. Twenty-nine hours later, he almost felt human again, weak, but human. His makeshift nursemaid must have heard him rustling about the covers and brought him another bowl of soup on a tray, telling him, “I need my man to eat something so his body has some fuel to fight that bug.”
Gawain didn’t argue. He couldn’t. He was too weak to do much of anything other than follow her directions. As Shontae handed him another pill he noticed it was prescription. Removing the bottle from her hand, he tried to focus and read the label. He was shocked to see his name and his physician on the pill container. She called my doctor . He took the pill and rolled back over in the bed.
I only want to rest.
“Let me sleep a little while longer, Mamí okay, then I’ll get up and get ready for school,” he mumbled through half shut eyes. Shontae wasn’t sure who he was talking to or what he was talking about. He had been this way for almost two days, but by Sunday night, the color had returned to skin and he didn’t look as if he were about to die. In an effort to keep a close eye on him, she had taken off work on Friday to stay at his side to get him over the roughest part.
He felt her hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. “I think you are out of the woods, so I’m heading into work.” Shontae explained that he needed to take a pill every four hours, stay hydrated, and try to get up a little today. “I get off at 5 and should be here by 5:30,” she kissed him on the forehead and left for work.
Damn, is it Monday? Have I been out for three days?
This also meant that he hadn’t showered, shaved, or brushed his teeth. I probably smell like a barn animal. Dragging himself from the bed, he headed to the bathroom to clean his sticky body. The shaver on the bathroom shelf and it appeared to be new. He used it to shave and trim his goatee.
In the bedroom he noticed she had attempted to remove the gunk from his coat and pants, as well as wash his sweat-soaked clothing. He vaguely remembered her changing his clothes. They were only three months into the relationship, but when he had needed her most, she came through.
I will be fair.
Evidently, he was on the road to recovery because hunger drove him to the kitchen. The pots and pans were limited, but he noticed she had taken out two chicken breasts for dinner. Gawain whipped a couple of eggs and made himself an omelet with toast and juice. After gathering his dirty dishes, he butterflied the breasts and prepped a simple marinade to saturate the meat all day. He looked around her living space. The apartment was so damned tiny he needed to go outside to change his mind. The minuscule linen closet held one more set of sheets that he used to change the bed.
He called Mr. Chan, his Chicago dry cleaner, to come pick up the dirty clothes, the sheets, his coat, and his suit. He hated the cold and it had snowed at least 17 inches over the weekend. Shontae had gone out in this weather to fill his prescription and buy the things he needed to get better.
It was a weird feeling being with nothing more than a cell phone. Without his laptop he felt lost. He made a few well-placed phone calls and opted instead to take another pill and go back to sleep, but before he went back to bed, Gawain made a phone call to make a special purchase for his lady that was due to be delivered in the morning. He set the alarm for 3:30 and drifted off.
Around 4 pm, he set the table with the two plates she owned and began to make dinner of pan-seared chicken breasts and sautéed green beans with almonds, a crisp green salad and steamed rice. With dinner complete, he made the bed, ran the vacuum, and cleaned the bathroom.
A knock came at the door around a quarter to five and Gawain bundled up and covered his chest from the cold winds before opening the door to find a grubby little man with a potbelly standing on the stoop with an awful smelling cheap cigar.
“Who are you?” the man asked Gawain.
“Since I am on the inside of the apartment and you are on the outside, shouldn’t that be my question to you?” He gazed at the man, looking for some form of identification on his uniform jacket.
“I’m the landlord. You living here now?” The man was being nosy and Gawain didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry, how would that be your business?”
“It’s my business because only she is on the lease,” he said as if he was about to say something else that Gawain gave a shit about.
“Is there something I can help you with,” Gawain asked, completely bored with the whole scene.
“I just stopped by to remind that her rent is late. AGAIN!”
“How much is the rent?” Gawain asked.
“Her rent is 650 a month, and she has three months of late fees, with that. What, you planning on paying it or something?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but Gawain wasn’t fazed.
“Wait here,” he told the nasty little man before he closed the door in his face, returning minutes later with a check.
“This should take care of the late fees and the next six month’s rent. I also want a receipt for that,” but he didn’t wait for the man to answer, he just closed the door.
Six months should be all the time he needed to show Shontae how to manage her money and make enough to buy herself a new place.
She pays that amount of money for this place?
He found his travel bag, which held another pair of slacks and a clean shirt. He located the iron and pressed the wrinkles from his clothes and laughed because he wanted to be presentable when she got home. Home. Two days ago he had barfed on her and she had to change his sweat soaked underwear and today … today he wanted to be presentable.
At 5:30 he heard the door keys and went to the fridge to get a bottle of wine. His chest was still full of phlegm forcing him to avoid the cold air of the door. Shontae was shocked that he was up, dressed, and had prepared dinner. He planted a light kiss on her cheek, careful not to breathe on her too much as he handed her the glass of wine. Gawain pulled out her chair and served her dinner. “How was your day?” he asked.
It was a peculiar sensation to come home and have a man cook dinner for you after a hard day of work. Shontae had never had a man do such a thing for her before. The few men that she had dated would stay over and play video games all day. When she got home from work, they would ask her what was for dinner. Coming home and having it prepared with a glass a wine poured for her – a woman can get used to this right here!
“The chicken is delicious and the whole meal was just perfect,” she praised his work watching him as he cleared the table and washed the dishes. There was another knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” she told him, afraid that the landlord was coming to make a scene. Mr. Chan had returned with Gawain’s dry cleaning and the sh
eets. He gave him a generous tip while ushering the nosy Chinaman out the door as he was asking a few questions about Shontae. Gawain answered and Shontae looked shocked. “You speak Chinese?”
“Yes, but he speaks Cantonese,” answering the question while unwrapping the packages of linens and clothes.
“What is your native language?” It was something she wanted to know but had yet to ask. It was obvious from his skin tone and hair texture that he was mixed, but she could not tell with what.
He continued to clean the plates after a few fits of coughing. “Portuguese is my first language, English is my third.”
What was the second one? She helped him wash and put away the dishes, almost holding her breath as she waited for whatever bad news he was about to deliver.
“So,” she began, “you called your dry cleaner to wash the sheets?”
“Yes, and I needed my coat, shoes, and suit cleaned.”
He was a very versatile man and someone Shontae understood was very special. Gawain was amazing her with his adaptability. When she went to the bathroom, she noticed he had cleaned it, as well as made the bed, vacuumed and ironed the blouses she had left in the laundry basket. His skin still looked sallow and she knew he wasn’t 100 percent yet, but at least he was no longer contagious and fevered. Shontae wanted to know his plan of action.
“I have to get back to work; it was a crucial time for me and there were many decisions to be made, but I have to get my lungs clear.” He knew this was going to impact their time together, but he would come back as soon as he could.
“I’m headed home and then I will be on the road for a week or two.” She tried not to show any reaction. “I will be in constant contact while I’m gone, but I would like to put some funds in your account if that’s okay?” This illness would really screw up his schedule but he was due in the office tomorrow, but he was in no shape to sit in meetings. His boss agreed when he spoke with him earlier.
She shrugged. “I just want to make sure that if you need anything while I’m gone you are taken care of.” She was non-committal and he knew she was processing some emotion that he couldn’t define.
Courting Guinevere (The Davonshire Series Book 1) Page 4
