Her Little Black Book

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Her Little Black Book Page 20

by Brenda Jackson


  Mike laughed. “Sweetheart, do you honestly think Suzette forced your father to perform in bed with her?”

  “Mike, this isn’t funny.”

  “You’re right. It isn’t.” He reached out, and although she tried to resist him, he pulled her back into his arms. “You want to know what I think?”

  “No.”

  He smiled when he placed her head beneath his chin. “I’m going to tell you anyway. I think you’re jealous.”

  She jerked back, bumping his chin in the process. “I am not jealous.”

  “Aren’t you? For years you never shared your father. Then you had to share him with Suzette and now a new baby. Yes, you’re jealous.”

  “You don’t know that, Mike.”

  “No, but I know you. Get over it. Get over Suzette. Get over them.”

  Sonya shook her head. “I can’t. They hurt Mom. I’m the one who went through hell when she couldn’t handle her husband of thirty years leaving her for a younger woman.”

  “Yes, they did hurt your mom. They also hurt you. But life goes on, Sonya. Your mom is doing fine now, and so are you. And as for your father and Suzette, be happy for them. They deserve each other. Think positive. You’re getting a baby sister or brother.”

  “Mike, I—”

  He didn’t let her finish. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The touch of his lips on hers immediately silenced her. They also inflamed her senses and made her think of one thing—one person. Mike.

  She felt herself being pulled down with him to the sofa. She didn’t protest. Nor did she resist. When her back touched the leather cushions, she gazed up at him and said, “You know we haven’t finished talking about that, don’t you.”

  He stood back and began removing his shirt. He smiled down at her with sparkling blue eyes. “Yes, we have.”

  Ron eased out of bed and glanced at the bathroom door. Barbara was taking a mighty long time coming out of it, he thought, annoyed. She had gone into the bathroom a few moments ago and had been locked in there ever since. So she had bought a new nightgown, big deal. How many new ones had he seen so far on this trip? At least five. And all of them had been cute and typical Barbara. Nothing to make him go hard or would make him want to rip the material off her body.

  His mind then shifted to Ashira. He had tried reaching her again and hadn’t made a connection. Where the hell was she? He had tried sneaking away, but Barbara hadn’t allowed him any free time. And she still insisted that she would be going to the fitness center with him in the morning.

  “Ron?”

  His brow creased when he glanced at the bathroom door. It was cracked a little. “What?”

  “Are you ready?”

  As ready as I’m going to ever be, he thought. But to her he said. “Yes, I’m ready.” Not hard but ready, he didn’t tack on.

  “Okay, I’m coming out.”

  Whatever. He watched the bathroom door open just a little wider and then a little more. He was sitting there getting bored to tears when suddenly it was flung wide open. He sat straight up. “Holy shit!”

  The words escaped his lips before he could call them back. The woman standing in the doorway was wearing a black barely-there something. And it looked damn good on her. Barbara always had a nice shape, and tonight she was working it in that skimpy material.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” His tongue felt thick in his mouth.

  She smiled at him in a way he’d never seen her smile before. She then began walking toward him, and his eyes almost popped out of his head. When she walked, he could clearly see the dark triangle between her thighs.

  “Come here, Ron.”

  She wasn’t asking him. She was telling him. She’d never been bossy in the bedroom. He liked it. His body suddenly began to ache. He immediately felt hard. Fire was raging through his loins. Barbara had never been able to get this sort of a reaction out of him. And just from seeing her in a gown that showed more of her nakedness than he was used to being displayed. And to top it off, she was wearing stiletto heels. He’d totally forgotten what nice legs she had.

  “Ron?”

  He slowly pulled himself from the chair and began walking over toward her. The hardness of his prick made it seem like he was carrying an extra load. The look in her eyes promised that she would lighten it. Blood began gushing through his veins.

  He came to a stop in front of her. “Take off your pajamas and lie on the bed, Ron.”

  He did as she ordered. He stretched out, wondering what she planned to do. It didn’t take long for her to show him. She eased on the bed with him and started kissing him on his mouth. Then moved lower. He closed his eyes, not believing this. Wondering if she was really going to do what he hoped to God she was.

  The instant her lips touched his prick, he almost bucked off the bed. Desire, as raw as it could get, cut through him. He could feel his testicles throbbing, his member hardening. And when she sucked him into her mouth, he released one hell of a loud moan. He couldn’t believe it. This was his wife, and she was going down on him, and she seemed to be enjoying it.

  Then he felt himself about to come and knew exactly where he wanted to be when he did. Opening his eyes, he moved quickly, flipped her on her back, pushed her gown out of his way, and entered her in one powerful thrust. She felt, hot, tight, and he knew it had been a long time since he’d gone inside her so deep. It felt good.

  He continued to ride her, and she began making sounds. Real noise that she wasn’t trying to smother. The louder she got, the harder he rode. And then he couldn’t hold back any longer, which was just as well, because as soon as an explosion hit her, it hit him, as well. He slammed his mouth on hers, claiming it in one hell of a long kiss. He couldn’t seem to let up. Didn’t want to let up.

  And then he was coming again, and all he could think about was that the woman beneath him was his wife. Nobody else’s wife. His.

  Ron couldn’t move. His body felt like it had just been through a time warp. He and Barbara had been married for thirty years, and he couldn’t ever remember experiencing anything so hot with her. It’s a wonder the sheets hadn’t gotten scorched. She owed him some answers. He refused to believe she’d been holding back on him all these years.

  He forced his head to move, to gaze her at her. Like him, she was lying flat on her back and barely breathing. Her eyes were closed. The lower part of her body was still quivering. Beads of perspiration had settled between her breasts. They were breasts, he would have to admit, that still looked good for a woman her age. He’d always appreciated the fact that they didn’t sag.

  He sat up and bent over her. “You have some explaining to do,” he whispered.

  Without opening her eyes, she smiled. Then asked, “Did you like it?”

  He chuckled. Now was not the time to tell her he had a weakness for blow jobs. She’d been pretty damned terrific. He frowned. Too terrific for a beginner. “Who taught you how to do that?” he asked, suddenly needing to know.

  She opened her eyes and met his. Her smile brightened to one full of pride. “I took classes.”

  “What!”

  She laughed. He didn’t see a damn thing funny. “What do you mean you took classes?”

  Despite his anger, she continued to laugh. The more she laughed, the angrier he got. When he made a move to get out of bed, she grabbed hold of his thigh. “Calm down, Ron. I don’t mean that kind of class.”

  “Then tell me what you do mean, Barbara.”

  “Okay,” she said, easing up in a sitting position. “I was looking through a magazine and saw this ad in the back. It was supposed to teach you how to do certain things to keep your man satisfied. So I sent off for the video.”

  “Video.”

  “It was a self-taught video.” She chuckled softly. “You won’t believe how many Popsicles it took.”

  He raised a brow. “Popsicles?”

  “Yes. For practice I used Popsicles to get the sucking motion right. I wanted to learn everything there was to know,
since from what you revealed to the therapist, that was one area of our marriage where I was lacking.”

  Suddenly he couldn’t meet her eyes. He shifted his attention across the room to a picture on the wall. “I never said you were lacking.”

  “You didn’t have to, Ron,” she said softly. “Your affairs with all those women said it enough.”

  He looked back at her then. Saw the pain he heard in her words reflected in her eyes. Seeing it hit him below the gut. “Barbara, I—”

  “No, I don’t want to talk about the past, Ron. I know what you’ve done before, and I agreed to put it behind us and move on. But still, I knew I had to do something or you would stray again. I had to become your every woman.”

  My every woman. He studied her features, felt a momentary rush of joy that she loved him that much. Then he felt like a total asshole because he knew he wasn’t deserving of her love. Never had been, even from the first. But she meant something to him. Always had. She had always been there for him, and he’d taken her for granted. Treated her like crap. He’d let other women disrespect her, and she still hung on to a man who wasn’t worthy of her. Not even now. If she ever found out just what he’d pulled with Ashira, how he’d brought his other woman on a trip meant to rebuild their marriage, he knew he would literally kiss her good-bye. That was one time she would never forgive him. Even now, he couldn’t forgive himself.

  “Am I, Ron?”

  Her question cut into his thoughts. “Are you what, Barbara?”

  “Your every woman?”

  He stared at her. Remembered the first time he’d seen her that day on campus. She’d been attending Spellman, and had come on the Morehouse campus with a group of friends. He thought her classy then and thought her classy now. And she was loyal to a fault. She had screwed up when she had married him. He was a man with a deep problem, an addiction he couldn’t seem to kick. At one time, he had felt a desire to get help but had failed to do so. Now he knew he had no choice. Every time he messed with other women, he was destroying the only person who ever truly loved him. He had to find a way to recover from his compulsive sexual behavior. It was Ashira now, but he knew eventually it would be another woman later. He couldn’t go on hurting his wife this way. He had hurt her enough.

  “Ron?”

  He leaned down and kissed her softly and then said, “Yes, Barbara, you’re my every woman.” And then he kissed her again.

  “Thanks for taking me to the movies. I enjoyed it.”

  Lake smiled. “So did I.”

  Courtney felt her lips tingle. She wanted him to kiss her but knew friends didn’t kiss. At least they didn’t engage in the type of kiss she wanted. Lake had walked her to the front door. She wouldn’t invite him in. It would be plain suicide to do so. She knew her limits. She also knew her weaknesses.

  “Well, I better go on in. It’s getting late,” she said, missing him already.

  “All right. And I’ll be leaving on Tuesday, going out of town for a few days. I’ll be back on Thursday.”

  “Oh. Well, have a nice trip.”

  “I will.” And then he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” And then he stood there until she had opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her.

  Courtney quickly moved to the window and glanced out. She watched Lake’s tall form get inside his truck and stood at the window until he drove off. She had wanted him to kiss her. But he hadn’t, only because of what she had asked of him.

  Okay, so she really shouldn’t be disappointed that he hadn’t done so anyway. After all, she had asked for his friendship. She had told him she didn’t want him for a lover, just a friend. She should be excited about the relationship they were now building. She should be grateful they were now taking things slow. Instead, she wanted to call Sonya to come over and give her one good hard kick.

  Her phone rang, and she immediately glanced at the clock. It was after eleven. Who would be calling her at this hour? Thinking it could possibly be Lake contacting her on his cell phone, she quickly crossed the room. What if he asked to come back? What if he told her he didn’t like the friendship thing and wanted to be her lover again? She reached for the phone, wishing she had added caller ID to her phone plan. “Yes?”

  “Where have you been?”

  She raised a brow. “Sonya?”

  “What?”

  “What’s wrong?” Something wasn’t right. She could hear it in her cousin’s voice. What was she doing calling her and not somewhere in bed with her husband? She thought newlyweds had sex all the time, or at least every chance they got. Did she and Mike have a fight?

  “Sonya, where’s Mike?”

  “He’s in bed asleep. I think I wore him out.”

  Courtney smiled. Apparently they didn’t have a fight, and if they did have one, they had made up. So, if it wasn’t Mike, then what was wrong? “I went to the movies with Lake,” she said, deciding to answer Sonya’s earlier question.

  “And he’s gone? You didn’t invite him to spend the night?”

  “No. We only went out as friends.”

  She heard her cousin’s deep sigh and then, “Courtney. Courtney. Courtney. When will you learn?”

  “Definitely not tonight, so what’s up? What got you calling this late?” she asked.

  “Dad.”

  “Excuse me?” Courtney said, not sure she’d heard Sonya right.

  “I said Dad.”

  Courtney raised a brow. “Uncle Joe?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s going to be a father. Suzette is friggin’pregnant.”

  23

  Jetrica grabbed Courtney’s hand and shook it. “Ms. A, are you listening?”

  Courtney raised her head and glanced over at Jetrica, whose eyes were bright and serious. No, she hadn’t been listening. Her mind was somewhere else, which wasn’t fair to Jetrica. This was their time. And if she remembered correctly, Jetrica was sharing some good news with her.

  “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere, Jetrica, and I apologize for—”

  “You were thinking about your boyfriend, weren’t you?” Jetrica interrupted.

  The question surprised Courtney. “What makes you think that?”

  Jetrica rolled her eyes. “I figured as much. He’s a looker. I’d think about him all the time, too.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Courtney leaned back in her seat, wondering how to get the conversation back on track. Jetrica had been telling her about the money she had made selling one of her paintings.

  “I saw him, you know.”

  Courtney raised a brow. “You saw who?”

  “Your boyfriend, Mr. Masters. Me and Bethany met with him and that old lady who bought my painting on Monday. He looks pretty good to be an older guy. And he’s a sharp dresser with a nice office. Bethany thinks he’s good-looking too.” And then she added, “He has a picture of you on his desk.”

  Courtney thought she heard Jetrica wrong. “Excuse me?”

  “I said he has a picture of you on his desk. It’s a picture the two of you took together.”

  Courtney began racking her brain, trying to remember when she and Lake posed for a picture together, and then she did remember. That night he had taken her to the movies. While waiting for the beginning of the next show, they had walked the mall. A street vendor had been snapping pictures of anyone who walked by. She and Lake had paused long enough for him to get a shot of them. But she didn’t recall Lake making arrangements to buy the picture. He must have contacted the photographer later.

  “The two of you look good as a couple, like you belong together.”

  Butterflies went off in Courtney’s stomach. She considered Jetrica’s statement as too much insight to be coming from a teenage girl, especially one who’d had such hardships in her life. She would never have thought Jetrica had a romantic bone in her body.

  Like you belong together.

  Sonya thought the sa
me thing, that she and Lake belonged together. Vickie, who’d heard all about Lake from her, thought so, as well. Why could they see the very thing she couldn’t? Why was it so hard to accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, there was a man capable of being both her friend as well as her lover, no matter what order they came in? A man who wouldn’t be unfaithful like her father and uncle. A man who was what dreams were made of. A man who represented the male species in such a way that couldn’t get any better.

  Deciding to steer the conversation off Lake, Courtney said, “Now that you are Madam Artist, how would you like to have a private showing of all of your work in my home?”

  She saw Jetrica’s gaze light up. “Wow! That would be neat. I’d like that.”

  Courtney smiled. “Okay, let’s get together next week and plan one for the summer. Now what were you saying before my mind started drifting?”

  Jetrica leaned in closer with excitement in her eyes. “I said with the money I’m making off that painting, Bethany and I will use it to move into a bigger apartment on the other side of town, one in a safer neighborhood. And after putting money into an account for my college, there will be enough left over for Bethany to start taking classes again at the university. Isn’t all that neat?”

  At that moment, Courtney felt a lot of gratitude in her heart for Lake and what he’d done to bring that sparkle to Jetrica’s eyes. “Yes,” she said, smiling. “All that is really neat.”

  “Are you going to invite Courtney to Mom’s birthday party?”

  Lake glanced across the table at Grey. Their mother would be turning sixty-five next month, and all the Masterses would be headed to Savannah for the celebration. He knew why Grey was asking. It would be the perfect time to introduce Courtney to the family as the woman he intended to marry.

  “At the moment no. I was moving too fast, and she asked that I slow it down.”

  Grey chuckled. “You were getting too overwhelming, uhh?”

 

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