“Hey, where you going?” David asked in a rushed whisper as he moved his cell from his ear.
I gave a faux smile. “Going to the lobby to see if they have some orange juice,” I lied with ease.
He smiled, walked over to me, kissed my lips, and then handed me his wallet. Told me to take money or his bank card to get what I wanted. I did what he asked. Smiled again when he kissed me, then made my way to the lobby.
I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there when Michael took a seat in the cushioned chair across from me. He hadn’t showered or changed out of his workout attire. I looked over at him, though my vision was blurry. I couldn’t explain why I was crying. Why my heart felt as if it was being violently ripped from underneath my rib cage. Guessed love did that to you. Wondered if that was what David felt each time I rejected him.
“I knew as soon as she opened her eyes in the delivery room,” he told me in a grave voice. “I’d seen those eyes enough to know.”
“If you knew from the beginning, why not say something?” I asked, my voice shaky.
“In hindsight I can say I knew. Then there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach, which I ignored. As Gemma got older and started coming into her personality more, I really knew.”
“And she’s never said anything? Your wife, I mean.”
Michael turned his lips down. Leaned forward and pressed his elbows into his knees. “Nope. I told you. She’s Mrs. Perfect. She and David would have been a perfect match. They can do no wrong and are always the victims. Their shit never stinks. Fire never burns,” he said in a huff, grunted, and then sat back in the chair.
“Is that what you came here to tell him the first time?”
“That was the plan.”
“This is what you meant when you said God got the last laugh?”
“Pretty much.”
“Are you sure your son’s yours?” I felt the need to ask this. I needed to attack the character of the woman who’d gone and given the man I loved his first child.
“MJ is mine.”
“Are you sure?”
Michael gave me a look that said he was still annoyed with me. I watched as he pulled his phone from the left pocket of his sweats. He slid his thumb across the screen. Scrolled through what I was assuming were photos and then offered me his phone.
There was Gemma again. This time she was standing next to Michael, the man she thought was her father. Again, she rocked boxed braids. Gemma even wore glasses, like David. Gave a wide smile that accentuated the dimples evenly placed on her cheeks . . . like David. The blood in my veins heated up. A little boy, as chocolate as a Dove ice cream bar, sat atop Michael’s shoulders. Michael Junior was a fitting name to give the boy, as he looked exactly like Michael. From the honey-colored eyes to the sly fox–like grin on his face. Like his father, the little boy looked like he was up to no good. They even had the same haircut, only the little boy had a crop of tight coils instead of a low-cut Caesar. There was a fourth person in the photo. Well, her shadow was there. I could see from her shadow that she was the one who had snapped the photo of her happy family as they vacationed in the Bahamas. I knew that because of the big sign behind them.
“He’s mine,” Michael reiterated.
I passed his cell back to him. Didn’t say anything for a long while. I couldn’t. I watched as people trolled by. Kids ran through the lobby as their parents yelled for them not to. Saw an elder white couple kissing and holding hands. An interracial couple headed to the fitness area. A white woman’s belly swollen with life. Saw another man, who looked to be the black man’s twin rush to meet them, with his pregnant white wife in tow. Black men were sure to breed themselves into extinction.
I curbed my thoughts. Old issues of being rejected by the black boys at our predominately white school started to ride me. It was funny how when something caused you great pain, you started to think of all the other things that had caused you grief as well.
“Are you going to tell him this time?” I asked Michael out of the blue.
I turned to find that he had been in his own little world. He snapped his head around at me like he’d only just remembered I was there.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
“Why haven’t you said something all this time?”
“Don’t want to break up my family. Gemma knows me only as Daddy. Thought about what it would do to my son and daughter if they found out their mother had been an easy whore only weeks after she married me.”
I asked, “So why tell him now?”
“Honestly?”
I nodded. “Honestly.”
“At first I simply wanted to hurt him. Wanted to finally have something to get back at him with, like he’d done to me. Wanted him to see that I’d been raising his child for the past ten years and she had no idea who he was. David’s big on wanting a family. You know that. All he talked about at times was wanting children and a wife eventually. Later on in life, after he’d gotten his career and his life together. I wanted him to see that no matter what he’d done, I still had the life he wanted, even though he had tried to break it up. I still have my wife. Have my kids.”
“What changed?”
“You.”
I furrowed my brows. I knew that what Michael felt for me had everything to do with what I could give him sexually, and that he felt nothing more. So his answer confused me.
“What? I don’t get it.”
“When I saw you on his Facebook page, I saw the way he held you like you belonged to him and only him, and then I saw the way he looked at you when I got here. Saw the way he held you, even though he claimed you two weren’t together. I saw, for the first time, the way he loved somebody that wasn’t me. He loves you now like I loved my wife then.”
I absentmindedly scratched my head. Swallowed down his admission of using me like the nasty bile it was. “So you used me. You got to have who David loved, as he’d had who you’d loved.”
Michael didn’t nod in agreement and didn’t shake his head in denial.
David’s words echoed in my mind. If you throw it at that nigga, he’s going to catch it, then toss you back in the dugout.
“The only difference between what I did and what David did is I gave him the option to object.”
“So I was another way for you to get back at David.”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “If that’s how you want to take it.”
“I’m going to tell David about his daughter.”
“Not his daughter.”
“The hell you say.”
“He may have donated the sperm, but she’ll always be my daughter.”
“He would have been there, had he known.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
I’d never been racked with such emotions as the ones I experienced as I sat in the lobby of that hotel. I watched as the snow continued to fall, and like the world outside, my insides turned cold. Michael had all but told me I’d been a married man’s plaything for him. Wondered if he felt that way about David too. Wondered if he’d been using David simply for the satisfaction of it and nothing more. I laid a hand over my chest to ease the pain I felt. I’d talked David into going down a road he’d been adamantly against taking.
I suddenly realized Michael was a victim in all of this too. On one hand, he’d been every selfish thing David had warned me he was. On the other hand, he’d raised a child who clearly wasn’t his without ever letting it break him down. He had to look at his daughter every day and know that biologically speaking, she didn’t belong to him.
“Where you going?” Michael asked me when I stood.
“To tell David we should get another hotel room,” I said before I walked off.
I headed back to the elevators. Waited patiently until the doors of one of the elevators opened, and then I stepped in quietly. Before the doors could close, Michael stepped through them. Neither of us said anything for a while, and then Michael spoke up.
“I know right now
you’re thinking I’m some dog-ass nigga, but I’m not. I did what I had to do for the sake of my family.” His deep baritone coated my skin in that closed space.
“Okay. And you using me to get back at David?”
“If I apologized for it, would it make you feel any better? I know you see it as something wrong, but we both know that you and I would have ended up sexually involved, anyway. As soon as we laid eyes on one another, it was set in stone.”
I tilted my head to look up at him. “And you’re so sure of this?”
He caged me between his arms against the mirrored wall. “Yes, Freckles, I am.”
“Really?”
“I know your kind. You know I’m a dog, and yet you love my pedigree.”
I shook my head. He was beginning to sound like the Michael I’d met at Strip. Like before, his scent seduced me. I shook my head to clear it. “Still doesn’t mean it’s not fucked up—”
“I’m sorry,” he said, cutting me off. “But I’m not sorry for fucking you. I’m sorry for sometimes thinking about how good your pussy tastes and for wanting to fight you because of it. I know that shit sounds crazy, but look, my wife was the only woman I was with for nine years in our marriage. I started cheating on her a few months ago with a girl who works in my auto shop. And still, no woman has ever driven me to the brink of insanity with her sex like you do. I don’t even understand why David allowed me to taste you or touch you.”
“Because he knows you can never have me like he does.”
“And you know this for certain?” he asked me, pressing his body closer to mine.
“I’d bet my life on it. . . .”
For the rest of the ride up, he gazed down at me, and I stared up at him. Neither one of us said anything. I couldn’t lie and say being that close to him didn’t bother me. It did. As mixed in my emotions as I was at that moment, I was clear about one feeling. Lust. The lust I felt for him was still strong.
The elevator dinged, and I rushed off. Michael snatched my wrist and pulled me back to him.
“Let me tell David about Gemma,” he pleaded with me.
“Why? So you can see the hurt on his face when he finds out he’s missed ten years of his daughter’s life?”
“No. I want to tell him because it’s something I should have done a long time ago but was too selfish to do so. Because he’d want to know how smart she is. How much like him she is. She’s getting older, and sooner or later, my excuse for why she’s the only one with brown eyes in the family is going to wear thin.. She’s already asked me and I lied to her. I don’t intend to lie to her again.”
“Okay. I respect that. As long as you know that if you don’t tell him, I will. So if you leave here and do not say a word about it, I’ll tell him, and whatever happens after that happens.”
“Fair enough,” he said.
I meant what I’d said. If Michael didn’t open his mouth, as bad as it pained me that another woman had had David’s child, I would tell him. He needed to know. I knew what family meant to him. I knew that in the end, after all the bullshit, he wanted a family. He wanted a wife, and he wanted children. He wanted to leave a legacy. Wanted his children to know that he would never abandon them, as his parents had done him.
I was trying not to let my feelings get the best of me. Trying to keep a strong face in front of Michael. Didn’t want him to see that his revelation was eating away at me on the inside. But Michael was no fool. No matter how David and I may have lied to ourselves and sometimes to those around us, anybody with eyes could see that I loved him and he loved me. So when Michael wrapped his arms around me and cradled my head against his chest, I held back the tears no longer.
I knew the logical thing to do, especially since I’d accidently answered Michael’s phone, would be for David and me to go to another hotel or at least get another hotel room. But when it came to Michael, we’d thrown logic out the window as soon as he touched down in Atlanta. Michael was our green and red Kryptonite. He weakened our resolve when it came to saying no, and then recharged us and pushed us into overdrive once we got into sex with him.
What I did do was push the fact that I would never bear David’s firstborn to the back of my head. I absorbed the pain of knowing that David had shared his seed with another woman and had given her a life that should have been reserved for me.
What happened once we got back to the room wasn’t what should have happened. I should have forced Michael to tell David about his daughter. I should have said no when David cornered me as soon as I walked back into the room. Should have objected to him wanting to see Michael’s face between my thighs again. I should have pretended as if I didn’t like the way he demanded I kiss him. When he sat back on the couch, legs wide, dick standing at attention, that slight curve saluting me, I should have stopped it right then, but I didn’t.
David
For the next two days Atlanta was shut down. The mayor and the governor were getting dragged through every media outlet out there for their response, or lack thereof, to the snowstorm that hit the city. Not too much changed inside Michael’s hotel room, though. The one thing that I’d always remember from our time together was the night before, when Summer had perfected her skills at fellatio on me. Michael had got down on the opposite side of her. Just as I’d been about ready to explode, he’d placed his lips on the other side of my dick and kissed Summer. The shit was so sensual. The way he snaked his tongue out to join Summer’s tongue while they French-kissed the head of my manhood had the muscles in my stomach clenching so tight, they burned.
Michael kept direct eye contact with her as they kissed around my head. When she puckered her lips and placed them against my head, he did the same, while kissing her. The come that slowly oozed out of my head was thick, creamy, and white. Testament to a good diet. Michael snaked his tongue out, caught the first batch on the tip of his tongue. Summer leaned forward, opened her mouth, and let Michael tongue feed her the children I’d never see grow up. She sucked his tongue like it was a pacifier, and once she was done, she lapped up the rest from her fingers, then from my quickly fading erection.
Day in and day out, we were all together. Woke up together. Went to sleep together. Woke up in the middle of the night to Michael and Summer exchanging heated words like angry lovers. Watched from the archway separating the living room from the bedroom as Michael tried to talk Summer into not being mad at him. It wasn’t lost on me that he was naked and she was semi-naked. He had to have been for some time, since his erection was aimed right at her. Her nipples were hard, as if moments before he’d been stimulating them.
They went from combatants to lovers in a matter of seconds. All it took to calm her down was his lips pressed firmly against hers. I didn’t know what was going on between those two. But I’d noticed the tension between them since she’d answered his phone. I chalked it up to him being upset about his daughter possibly telling his wife that some woman had answered her father’s phone.
Once his lips touched Summer’s, she was putty in his hands. He used one arm to lift her from the floor and settle her around his waist. She had on only one of our shirts—I wasn’t sure which one of our shirts it was—no underwear. Since he was already in his birthday suit, it was easy for him to slip right into her. I rolled my shoulders, cleared my throat, and gave my manhood a slow stroke to calm down the excitement I felt.
Summer’s head was buried in his neck as he slowly lifted her and brought her back down. Michael’s hand roamed up and down her back. He was holding and caressing her like she was his wife. My upper lip twitched in annoyance. His hands massaged the nape of her neck, then came up to firmly grab a fistful of her hair. He was all in control at that moment. He was the puppeteer; and she, his willing puppet. Once she realized I was watching them, her eyes widened, but she was too far gone to care that I’d caught them. Her thick and creamy excitement was coating his dick. Each time they moved against one another, a fresh coat glazed him.
Michael was groaning, growling, moa
ning . . . especially when she start gyrating her hips back into him. I saw the moment she switched up the game and took control of him. Now he was her puppet. She took him down to his knees. There was a bow in his back while she worked him over.
I chuckled as I walked farther into the room.
“What the fuck you laughing at?” he barked at me. Sweat dripped down his temples. His brows furrowed, and there was a look on his face that said he was immersed so deeply in pleasure that it was painful.
“You. Laughing at the way she always takes you down. You look like you’re confused. Like you don’t know whether to toss her off you or let her keep going,” I said to fuck with him.
“Kiss . . . my black ass, motherfucker.”
I threw my head back and laughed while I poured myself a shot of bourbon whiskey, then downed it in one gulp. Summer bent backward until her back was arched on the floor. Those beautiful caramel hips never stopped grinding, though. Michael gave a guttural grunt as he jerked forward. He sounded as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He braced himself between her thighs, both of his palms flat on the carpet on the sides of her head. He bit down on his bottom lip, growled, and then pumped into her like he had a point to prove.
Summer’s purrs and whimpers told me that she was being satisfied just the way she liked it. Michael attacked her breasts with his mouth as one of his hands slid down her stomach to put pressure against her pelvis. Both he and I laughed low when she bucked against him. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She was there. Orgasm overload. He soon followed after her. Releasing all he had into her.
Once he was done, he removed himself from her body. Semi-hard dick slapped against his thigh with a light thud. He sat with his back against the couch. One leg folded underneath him and the other raised so he could rest his elbow on his knee. Her glaze still covering him like a second skin. I slipped between her legs. Placed my mouth on her clitoris, fingers inside her, and made her come again. Licked her like she hadn’t just had an orgasm that had turned her into Linda Blair. Made her squirt for me. Right in the middle of her raining down on my face, I eased up, caged her between my arms, and slipped right back inside her.
Bi-Satisfied Page 21
