by Falon Gold
Next time, I would take charge, I pledged as music, from her thighs slapping mine and my grunts mixing with her groans, filled the cubicle. And my God, how pleasant the sounds were to my ears. Her slight weight pressing on my thighs felt like a missing part of me had come home, activating the deadened areas of my heart that hadn’t revived when my blood began to pump through the chambers again after arriving in Colorado. A tingling manifested in the bottom of my spine, shooting into my testicles that felt like lead weights, the tingling a warning to make her come now or she won’t because I definitely was about to. If it isn’t one damn thing with this woman, it’s another.
“Come now, Mahogany,” I commanded gruffly before releasing one of her ass cheeks to stroke her clitoris.
Creating a beam out of my forearm behind her for her to sit on wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t going anywhere with her arms like vise grips around my neck, knees imbedded in my sides. I couldn’t help watching her like I had never seen her before her in this position: head thrown back, eyes closed, lost somewhere in ecstasy with the manmade light caressing every inch of her almost flawless skin. Technically, I hadn’t seen her this way before, not after giving birth to my firstborn. Somehow, she was more beautiful than ever and I was fascinated.
Her mouth fell open. “I…” she began, then arched her back outwards, drove her forehead into my chest, relocated her fingers to my upper arms, and squealed, “God, it’s too strong, Chance! Make it stop!” Not likely.
Her walls contracted and expanded rhythmically around the base of my cock, igniting my own orgasm that nearly dropped me to my knees, which locked themselves before we both hit the floor. Head fuzzy, body functioning on autopilot, my hands slipped beneath her thighs to raise her up, then palmed her ass again to push away then pull her to me, pounding into her as we both toppled over the edge into bliss so sharp, so painful I could’ve screamed. I did curse a blue streak though as I emptied into her so much of my seed it leaked around the seal of our bodies to the floor in a steady stream, circling the drain.
Contented beyond belief, someone could’ve said the sky was falling and I wouldn’t have given two shits. I was drained and close to death already, wanting to haul her close in my last moments, what I usually did after making love. Except, I was supposed to be exorcising my demons, not making love but screwing her to get closure then leave.
Screwing. Closure. Leave. I repeated the mantra, trying to hammer it into my psyche until ‘screwing, closure, leave’ felt as automatic as loving Mahogany. Hopefully, one replaced the other quickly—I couldn’t leave Arrow until it did, or be stuck here. Stuck in love. Stuck in the past. All the above was a real possibility and I was pissed to the highest point of pisstivity about it.
After setting her down on her feet, I turned my back, facing the shower and my failures. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy being with her. She was supposed to feel what it was like to be deserted over and over again, and she would if I could stick to the plan. Where I expected her to ask me what was wrong, and by God, I wanted her to so I could be vicious in my answer, her essence decreased until there was only me in the bathroom. She didn’t come back until I’d completed my bath, to start hers as if she’d timed it that way, presuming I needed space. Negative. I wanted her all up in my space, her feeling brushed off and undesirable as I did, but nothing was going as I’d strategized for it to.
Chapter Seven
~Mahogany~
While collecting my bar of soap, I waited in the bedroom to hear the shower stall’s door open, signaling Chance was finished. Only then did I risk reentering the bathroom, strolling into the shower as he exited as if nothing was wrong. Everything was. He looked everywhere but at me—his deliberate dismissal should’ve been enough to turn me off. He detested me just as much as he still wanted me. That was my fault, but my body didn’t care about who was to blame about what. His mouth was a pilot light that set me afire every time it touched mine. Just a glimpse of his toned physique made me shudder with the force of renewed desire rampaging through me when I should’ve been sated. Pitiful, Mahogany.
While lathering up, I mulled over his scheme to get over me. There was more to it than I understood, and I was starting to suspect he wanted to inflict hurt while accomplishing his task. I hadn’t signed up for that, wouldn’t have agreed to date him if I’d known beforehand. Selfishly, I was more concerned about how much time I had to get what I wanted from him. Somewhere deep inside, I had stupidly anticipated him treating me as the old Chance had, and hadn’t counted the cost of what he’d take and withhold in the process. The fact that we had the same ultimate goal in mind was all I’d focused on, but I won’t waste precious time trying to change his mind or remind him how we still fit together like hand in glove, our time better spent enjoying one another. If none of that mattered anymore to him, well, it didn’t matter anymore. I’d deal with what came as it emerged.
What bothered me the most was how much damage he was willing to do to me before he was satisfied. I hoped he dug two graves when he plotted his revenge. One for me. One for him, and if I’m not careful, he was going to kill us both. If I wanted to be sane after he’d gotten what he needed to move on, I needed to find a silver lining in this thundercloud called ‘dating’ to grab on to, and there were several. If there was one way to get over someone, exposing yourself to them so they could take painful potshots at your heart was it. Check. The distance he put between us immediately after we had sex certainly chafed.
But he still fucked like a God, so that was a plus. I could gorge myself on his sex and still not get enough. Two could play the foul game he had put in motion. I didn’t know the rules, but I was a fast learner and could turn the tables on him. I won’t though, but I would have to disconnect from my feelings until the peace he deserved after what I done to him reared its beautiful head. While he chased it down, I’d get several orgasms. I was long overdue for those too.
Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t considered that his actions of just wanting nothing else to do with me after screwing my brains out could be flipped on him. Me leaving the room didn’t fall in line with him wanting me to want him so badly I couldn’t think straight, which was why I left. He made a grave error when warning me of what he truly wanted, had taught me to not be warm and friendly toward him when he obviously wasn’t going to be doing the same. The only thing left to do was place my feelings in a box with a damn near immovable lid on it, so when he took those potshots at my heart, there would only one area of me that would be mutilated. I just didn’t know if containing the damage was that simple, but I was damn sure going to try to make it so.
By the time I was dried off and covered in a towel, Chance had dressed in a tee shirt, jeans, sneakers, and on a phone call in the bedroom, standing at the window with his back to the bed. I ogled his gorgeous form before I realized what I was doing then jerked my attention elsewhere. The muscles bulging through the white material of his shirt were things of beauty, his shirt likely costing more than my sneakers. Right then, I knew he was getting to me all over again, making me want him just because he was near. I would lose more than I gained from sleeping with him, but there was no way out of the dilemma I had set forth. I won’t, can’t, go back on my word now, not when I wanted him happy again. Majestic needed that for him, if he was to be a positive influence in her life and willing to come around me to get to her. The hardest part to admit was that having him for a little while was better than not having him at all.
Pretend he isn’t there and this is that room you’d wanted for the weekend. All you’re lacking is a good book, Mahogany… which you can’t afford either. Imagining Chance was just man meat to be ignored when not in use was not going to be as easy as I thought, not when reality would keep getting in the way. Those moments of riding him like a possessed cowgirl who had no idea what the hell had come over her were certainly going to come up, and every other time I took possession of his body, reaping the benefits while the getting was good, which seemed to only have made things
worse between us.
I’m damned if I do continue to ‘date’ him, damned if I don’t. But we certainly weren’t dating, this was plain old ‘fuck the pain away’ for him. I wanted more good times together, good memories before we abruptly ended again, this time at a crossroads. I tried to brace for being the trip that would end at a cliff I would surely fall over… or he pushed me over it to save himself. It hurt so much to face my reality. With no time to cry about it, or I might have because things should’ve gotten better instead of worse after that shower, I grabbed my bag and vanished into the bathroom, shutting the door before a shuddering breath escaped from me. Majestic waiting for me to get back to her was my motivation for getting moving.
Getting dressing preceded using a mirror bigger than my car to style me hair in. Reluctant to ask Chance for permission to use the hair dryer mounted to the wall, my only recourse was to tame my hair as much as I could by parting it down the middle, evenly dividing up the loose curls created by the humidity from our shower and the bone-straight parts weighted down with water. At least, the hairdo looked deliberate, saturating the top half of my naked back. The casual, thin blouse I wore didn’t cover much, snapping between my legs and comprised of a thick neck band with more material in the ruffles rafting between my unbound breasts than what was tucked inside my dark denim with bleach spots.
God, this outfit was going to be misconstrued as me trying to be cute and was going to draw attention to me, but it was all I had clean that wasn’t pajamas. Well, everyone could think what they like about it. Living out of a hospital didn’t leave much time for doing laundry at home, but I was definitely going to be putting a load of dingy t-shirts and baggy jeans in the washer as soon I could tonight. The attraction Chance and I had for one another was going to be our undoing if I didn’t tone down the flirty shirts and tight jeans.
“Shit, Mahogany. What are you going to do?” I asked my reflection.
A sudden banging on the door was my answer, which startled the hell out of me. I jumped back from the mirror as if I was doing something wrong. I probably had in Chance’s eyes, just because I was breathing.
“I’m coming, Chance! You don’t have to imitate the sheriff!”
He didn’t respond. I pitched my belongings back in the bag and joined him in the living area so gorgeous I hated to leave but Majestic would always be my first priority over any potential vacation spot. Chance didn’t reach for me as we walked out of the room. With me one step behind him, he got on the elevator first where I stood in the back and made up my mind to follow his lead in all things. Don’t put up a fight about anything if it wasn’t life or death or to Majestic’s detriment. Be as quiet, boring, and accommodating as I can be. If that don’t make him fall out of ‘want’ with me, nothing will.
In the lobby, I noticed Amari Spencer, now Amari Powers, a regular customer of Tommy’s whenever she was in the state. She was leaning back in an adult high chair behind the desk, rubbing her stomach protruding with her third child and spooning macaroni cheese into her mouth. She wasn’t tall enough to stand and not appear child-like behind the countertop. I decided to stop and speak as Chance continued out the exit where it would take a few minutes for the valet to bring the car. He didn’t even look back to see if I was still following him like a good puppy.
Bastard!
Amari looked up from her lunch and grinned. “Hey, Mahogany. I missed you at Tommy’s a while ago.”
“So, that’s why no one was here when I arrived, huh?” At the desk, I propped one arm on it then leaned into it. “Hey, Amari. How’s little Camron doing in there?”
She patted her stomach. “This is Cannon. Took Camron forever to decide on his name, and Cannon’s happy. I’m happy. We’re eating mac-n-cheese that should be illegal. I’d go to jail for it, even while pregnant with my third child.”
Amused, I knew she meant it. “Tommy does put his foot in his recipes, doesn’t he?” And he was the next stop on the merry-go-round that Chance was operating.
It wouldn’t shock me any if I got thrown from one of the horses with him at the controls either.
Having no idea that my thoughts had taken a wide turn from the subject, Amari grinned. “That’s the reason why I flew from New York last night. Astrid and Blake think it was because I was being a good cousin-in-law helping them out with the guest check-in after their last concierge quit on them. Nuh huh, I was feening for Tommy’s mac-n-cheese, and Camron is ticked off because he knows there’ll be none for him when I get back home. He’s got his own jet, can come get his own food, and I love him but not enough to share my mac-n-cheese with him. How’s Majestic… the poor angel,” she added sympathetically with a downturn to her mouth.
The Powers and Owens didn’t know how blessed they were to have each other. I was envious as hell but couldn’t help liking most of them who were good people. Blake and Camron’s relatives on the other hand, I steered clear of and served as quick as I could when on duty, whether at the restaurant or some function being catered by Tommy’s Cuisine. The older Powers were beyond wealthy and could be downright snobbish when they chose to.
“She’s in remission finally,” I announced with a bright smile that would’ve blinded me if I was seeing it.
“That’s good news!” she shrieked. “Can I come see her before I leave?”
“Absolutely. She’s in Room 513.”
Chance chose that moment to lope back into the building, pulling my eyes to him as if he was the North Pole and my pupils were needles on a compass. “Can we go please?” he snapped, then went back out the way he came.
I exhaled wearily, tired from digging a hole for myself when I agreed to date him, and was going to have to keep digging until I reached China to get out of it. I was in the thick of it and there was no going back.
Amari’s mouth dropped open. “That’s who you came here with? I’m surprised you’re leaving so soon. But then, he’s heated about something and I’d be leaving too. He seemed nice when he checked in last night though.”
“I wouldn’t have been here in the first place, if I could’ve helped it. He’s Majestic’s father and her savior… and an asshole,” I added under my breath, and now, I had to save him from me.
How much more unfair could life get? Oh, Mahogany, don’t ask questions you really don’t want the answer to.
Amari’s eyeballs nearing bulged out of her head as my thoughts spiraled out of control. “No shit! He’s Majestic’s father?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes shit. Don’t let the good looks fool you, he’s a real bastard when he wants to be. See you at Tommy’s, Amari.”
“Aren’t all men real bastards when they want to be? If they can top Camron in that department, you should run though. Camron’s the boss of bastards. And damn straight you will see me. I’m going to be all up in your business too,” she called after me as I walked way.
I snickered on my way out despite the fact I was about to ride with the devil who was in a foul mood. I don’t think I rode him hard enough in the shower if he has hostility toward me. Or I rode him too well. Either way, my repayment was his bad attitude. I planned to suffer in silence, not make him madder than he already was.
In the closed confines of the car, Chance already sat in the driver’s seat, fuming and staring straight ahead. The Chance I loved would’ve opened the door for me. I didn’t know this man and suddenly, I didn’t want to. As I buckled up, the frigid air from the car vents blew across the thin material of my shirt, pebbling my nipples. His eyes rolled to the corner of their sockets then down toward my chest.
Not as immune to me as he would like to be yet, huh? I smirked at the side of his face as his eyes rolled back to the front, with the mean part of me not wanting him to ever get over me. Then, I felt bad for feeling that way when he wanted the opposite. I trained my own eyes out the window, and hoped on his behalf that the disease I became to him was cured quickly. Rather he felt nothing for me than loathed me. With the tension increasing by leaps and bounds and smotheri
ng the oxygen in the car, we drove off. I wasn’t sure if he knew where he was going or too prideful to ask where Tommy’s restaurant was, and I was about to break one of my rules already, but I’d been gone from Majestic too long. Driving around in circles was going to get us nowhere.
“Chance—”
“I know where Tommy’s is,” he huffed. “I have GPS.”
“I didn’t know that,” I mumbled to the glass.
Ear-piercing silence reigned as we took crooks and turns on the back streets to town. Tommy’s Cuisine’s double-glass door entrance finally came into view, the classy interior visible through the long, wide windows. Miniature chandeliers with fluted arms attached to acorn-shaped crystal globes were suspended over various-sized tables spaced spaciously apart, the smaller ones along with black, velvet booths meant for creating intimacy on the outskirts of the dining room. This place was my home away from home and Chance was about to contaminate it with memories of him being here.
We parked at the front sidewalk. I assisted myself out of the car. He was right behind me as I followed the paved walk underneath the black canopy to the entrance. I felt his eyes drilling into my spine as I stepped past a sign with “Please Wait To Be Seated Saturday” onto the shiny black-tiled floor, his nearness creating a shadow over me and reminding me of our double agenda for being here. Servers walked to and fro, balancing trays on their palms. Chatter from the customers filling all the tables attested to the restaurant’s success. At the rear, behind a V-shaped, black marble countertop in the far-left corner, stood Tommy Owens with skin the color of dark coffee covering his slim frame with defined muscles beneath his dress shirt, chef’s coat, and slacks. He wasn’t old enough to be my father, actually he was if he’d started making babies at an even earlier age than I had, but he had been there like a real father should have, and I’d never be able to repay him.
