Sage shrugged. “I don’t know, a few days ago.”
“Really, Sage!” Nadalia’s chest heaved and the warmth of her anger settled over her. “Who did you have sex with a few days ago? Because it sure wasn’t your wife.”
“What are you talking about?” Sage asked with his shoulders drawn into his neck. He stared into Nadalia’s reddening face and huffed, exhibiting his frustration before taking another deep breath and choosing a softer angle. “Babe. I’m not cheating on you.”
“I want you to think back and tell me the last time you had sex with your wife.”
Sage drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I’ve been extremely busy! What do you want from me?”
“It’s been months!” Nadalia screamed and slammed her hand on the countertop. I’ve been trying to get your damn attention for months now. Walking around here half naked.” She pulled her robe back revealing her sexy silk and lace gown. “And you’ve completely ignored me. If you’re not screwing me, then someone else must be fulfilling your needs. What’s wrong? You don’t find me attractive anymore?” Tears fell from Nadalia’s eyes before you she knew it. Her own words hurt as if Sage had declared them.
Sage’s mouth fell open, but he appeared to be at a loss for words. After another beat, he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. “Of course I find you attractive. Who wouldn’t? You know how busy work gets.”
“Yeah.” Nadalia pulled back from him. “It makes you too busy to screw your own wife?”
Sage opened his mouth and again, nothing came out at first. “Baby, I’m sorry…I didn’t realize.” Sage reached for her again. Nadalia swiped at her tears and moved outside of his reach. Sage dropped his arms to the side. “Dali, I’ll make it up to you.” He tried again to embrace her. Once again, she stepped away from him.
Nadalia wanted to be in his arms. She wanted to feel the strength of him around her, but she was too upset to give in. She knew his schedule was hectic and he often came home exhausted, but she couldn’t believe he had no idea they hadn’t been intimate in months.
Suspicions took her imagination to unconscionable heights. What if there really was another woman? What if she were no longer desirable to him? What if he left her? Was she at risk of losing her husband and best friend? The pain of those possible realities was too much to bear.
The tears continued to roll. Nadalia felt like her heart was breaking already.
“Okay. Let’s go on that date.”
Nadalia looked at Sage and narrowed her eyes.
“I’m not patronizing you,” he said, surrendering his hands in innocence. “I want to make this up to you. I guess I got so wrapped up in work I didn’t notice how it was affecting you.” He looked hopeful.
Nadalia didn’t answer, but she wiped her tears and unfolded her arms before sitting on the nearby stool.
Sage approached her again, taking her into his arms. This time, she let him hug her but she didn’t hug him back. Kissing the top of her head between words, Sage asked her to forgive him.
After holding her in his arms for a few minutes, Sage pulled back, cupped her face in his hands and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Can I take you out on a date?”
Nadalia stared into his penetrating eyes, hooded by thick brows and lush lashes and tried to keep the smile in her heart from spreading across her face. She didn’t want to let him off the hook so easily.
“I’ll be somewhat respectful,” Sage said and smiled. Nadalia’s face crumpled in confusion. “I’ll have you in bed…I mean, home by midnight.”
The smile that had been tickling the corners of her mouth slid across her face and she cut her eyes at him. “You better.”
Still holding her face in his hands, Sage kissed her. Starting out with a few pecks, the kiss swelled into a passionate lock that left both of them pining for breath. Heat flickered in her core and her nipples grew tense.
Nadalia stood and pressed body against Sage’s taut physique. His hands roamed her back and found refuge on her ample bottom. He squeezed those cheeks gently as he pushed his tongue into her mouth.
Nadalia didn’t know what felt better, the mere fact that she finally had him in her arms or the white hot flickers of desire that made her tingle. What she did know was that if she didn’t get him inside of her soon, she would spontaneously combust into a million tiny pieces of fire.
Nadalia’s hands ravaged his body, feeling over every inch of him as if she had to prove to herself that he was real. She roamed, caressed and squeezed his back, chest, and behind.
Uninhibited lust surged through her, so when her hands found him limp, she was a little disappointed. She expected to find his erection straining against his sweat pants. She knew what to do to get his loins ablaze. Nadalia stooped down and released his soft manhood from his sweats and boxers and looked up at him seductively before gently taking him into her mouth. She’d work him up in no time.
After several minutes, Sage remained unresponsive while Nadalia struggled to keep her temperature from falling. She pushed his limpness around for a few minutes longer before lifting herself up.
Sage looked down and then back up at Nadalia apologetically. “I’m just tired.”
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” she suggested and took him by the hand. He bunched his sweats with the other hand so he could climb the steps safely.
Once they got to the room, Nadalia took over. Backing him up against the bed, she pushed him back and mounted him. She took him into her warm mouth again. When he grew slightly rigid, they guided him inside of her canal. She was finally getting the response she wanted, but it didn’t last.
Sage turned over and looked into her eyes seductively. “How about this. Let me take care of you.” He buried his face between her legs and fondled her bud until her muscles convulsed uncontrollably.
Afterwards, Sage went to the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth. He wiped the left over juices from between Nadalia’s legs before wrapping her in his arms.
Nadalia moved away from him, leaving him lying in bed. Even with the little slice of joy he stirred in her, she wasn’t content. She wanted to make love to her husband. She wanted more.
Chapter 22
Pearson
Pearson paced, not sure of what to do next. Her nerves had taken control of her. Standing still had become impossible. She fidgeted as she tried to find something to wear. Nothing she retrieved from her expansive closet was fit for a meeting with her mother.
Pearson hadn’t seen the woman in months and the fact that her mother reached out to her during her mourning season made Pearson even more uneasy. When Candice ended the call with a declaration of her love, Pearson’s emotions became unexpectedly fragile. She hadn’t heard those words since her father passed. Hearing them from her mother unearthed a fresh combination of battered emotions, confusion and suspicion.
Pearson stared at the black slacks and purple shirt she laid across her bed, snatched the shirt up and traipsed back toward the closet. As fashionable as she usually was, she felt like none of the ensembles she paired made sense. It wasn’t just about choosing the right top, pants or skirt. Regardless of what she wore, she’d still feel exposed in her mother’s presence. Candice always had the ability to pull the vulnerable little girl inside of Pearson to the forefront. Every tender piece of her character rose to the surface when Candice was involved and then once she was gone, anger would chase them all back into their hiding places.
Pearson’s therapist once told her that was her inner child, crying out for her mother’s love. “Love? Pft,” Pearson mumbled aloud. “Whatever.”
After shoving hanger after hanger of shirts aside, Pearson stopped at a simple cream shell with a beaded neckline. She walked down a few feet to where her pants hung neatly and flipped through a few pairs, choosing deep blue skinny jeans. Spinning on her heels, she walked a few more feet, past a lingerie chest, and headed to the side of her closet that housed coats, sweaters, and jackets. Pearson chose a floral blazer with bold colors and carried
her new collaboration into the room. Taking a step back, Pearson looked it over one last time and nodded approvingly. This was it.
Pearson inhaled and exhaled slowly, hoping to push away all of the anxiety that caused her shoulders to tense. She could still smell the faint, but fragrant scent of the bacon that Niles prepared that morning before they went to church.
She took another deep breath and was able to hear the sounds of her home. Off in the distance, she heard the sweet appeal of Niles’ tenor sax even though he was inside his studio all the way in the basement. Pearson closed her eyes and tried to let the shadowy sound penetrate her mind.
After a while, Pearson switched out of the dress she wore to church and put on the outfit she’d just selected. The jeans had some stretch in them. The tank was made of soft cotton, making her feel comfortable. That’s just what she needed. Pearson put on the blazer and twisted her frame in the full length mirror inside her closet. She grabbed a pair of flat black boots that would serve well in the endless snow and headed down to let Niles know she was leaving.
The closer she got to the basement, the louder the horn crooned. Niles’ talent was incredible. The way he fingered his instrument and toyed with the notes was almost sensual, as if he was in love. Pearson teased him about his ‘relationship’ with his sax often feigning jealousy, but in reality she’d been intrigued by his talent since they met.
He was playing at the family’s restaurant and to Pearson it felt like he was playing just for her. Not simply because she was smitten by the incredible sound, but because he kept staring at her over the top of the sax and using it to reel her in. By the time he’d finished the set, she found herself at the end of the stage. He came straight to her.
Pearson brought her mind back to the present and walked into the studio. Niles smiled without sullying a single note. He finished the song with his eyes on her and then licked his lips. Pearson felt sexual tension rise in her, chasing away the little bit of tightness that had settled in her shoulders.
Niles put the sax on its stand and walked over to her, sliding his arms around her waist. He looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?”
Pearson gave him a small smile. “Yes.”
Niles’ expression told her that he wasn’t convinced. She couldn’t fool him. Pearson sighed and gave a firm, “Yes,” and then followed it up with a bigger smile.
Niles kissed her forehead. “You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Niles stretched his eyes and looked at her sideways. “I will be fine,” Pearson confirmed.
“All right.” Niles kissed her again and released her. “I have a little something upstairs in the fridge for you to take with you.”
“You made something?”
“You’re going to dinner, right? It’s rude to go empty handed. It’s just a little dessert. It’s one of your favorites so you’ll be more comfortable.”
Pearson went to the kitchen to see what Niles had made.
“That pie’s staying here!” she said when Niles came up behind her.
“I knew you would try something like that so I made two.”
Pearson laughed.
“What time are you supposed to be there?”
Pearson deflated. He brought her back to her reality. Several times over the past few hours, she considered canceling. But she knew she had to do this.
Chapter 23
Pearson
Pearson arrived at her mother’s house minutes before their scheduled dinner, but refused to leave the car until the digital clock on her dashboard hit the hour. Taking one last deep breath, she pushed the car door open with a rush, stepped out and made haste through the frigid air, up the expansive circular drive to her mother’s enormous home—the same home where she’d grown up.
Pearson often wondered how her mother managed in that massive sixteen-room mansion all alone. She couldn’t recall any mention of her mother dating, but imagined that she must have had some male companionship over the years. It had been nearly two decades since her father’s passing. Surely Candice entertained herself somehow, despite that fact that Pearson believed she wasn’t the friendliest person.
Candice swung the door open as Pearson approached, and Pearson looked up startled. She forced a smile at her mother who was grinning in the doorway with outstretched hands. Pearson didn’t exactly know what to do and finally coaxed herself into stepping between her mother’s arms.
“I’m glad you’re here, darling.”
Pearson looked at her mother. She bit back the curt remark that stung the tip of her tongue and responded based on what would be appropriate. “Thanks.” Pearson continued through the door, stripping out of her heavy winter coat.
“Let’s go out to the Florida room. It’s comfortable there. My maid prepared a nice meal and she makes the best ceviche with shrimp and calamari. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Candice led the way, stopped and turned back to Pearson, “You’re not allergic to shellfish, are you?”
“No. I’m not.” Pearson decided that she could only take a little more of her mother’s acting. Her niceties seemed foreign and forced. Not to mention it was ridiculous that her own mother didn’t know whether or not her own daughter was allergic to shellfish.
“Good.” Candice continued walking. “Please take Pearson’s coat,” she told the maid.
Pearson handed it over to her.
When they made it to the room, Candice flopped into an antique winged-back chair and sighed. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”
The woman returned with a tray with two dirty Martinis.
How did she know? Pearson thought jokingly, but then really wondered as she took the glass and luxuriated in a long sip. She smiled her first real smile since she arrived at her mother’s house.
“Like mother, like daughter,” Candice said, taking a sip and smiling over her own glass.
“Pardon me?” Pearson asked, not sure if she liked being compared.
“I see you like a well-made martini.” Candice grinned.
“Yeah. I like ’em stiff and extra dirty,” Pearson said mischievously and she shared a genuine laugh with Candice.
“Dear! Make sure Pearson’s next one is extra dirty. As a matter of fact, why don’t you go ahead and prepare the next one? It looks like it won’t be long before this one is finished.”
Pearson rolled her eyes, not sure if her mother was being facetious or not. “Yeah. Please toss in a few more olives if you can.”
As the warm liquid flowed through her body, she felt more at ease making small talk with her mother. By her third martini, she was ready to get to the point of the visit. The maid had just placed a colorful mixed green salad on the cafe table that sat between her and Candice’s chair. Pearson pushed a few forkfuls in her mouth as she tried to put words together that would get her questions across without stinging or sounding too eager.
Swallowing hard, Pearson pushed down her last forkful and turned to her mother, who was eating like she was demonstrating proper etiquette to a class of potential debutantes.
“Why didn’t you like me?” Pearson tried her best, but she was never one for tip-toeing around any matter. Straight forward came easy.
Candice stopped chewing. She looked at Pearson, sighed and then finished chewing before responding. “It’s not that I never liked you.”
“Then what is it?”
“I didn’t know what to do with you,” Candice simply stated as if she were talking about the weather.
“What the...hell is that supposed to mean?” Pearson looked at her mother sideways and pointed to her empty glass so the maid could bring her another martini.
“Do we really have to go there? I have some really important information I want to share with you. That’s why I asked you over. Not for this.”
“Yes. We have to go there because I honestly don’t know when we will ever be in one another’s presence this way again and be so...cordial.”
“Oh, please, Pearson!” Pears
on twisted her lips and Candice rolled her eyes. “Okay. We don’t talk much, but don’t make me out to be a bad person.” Candice scrunched her shoulders. “I’m just not one for a lot of unnecessary conversation.”
Pearson bit back the sting of her mother’s comment. “Even with your own daughter?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand.” Pearson felt herself getting emotional and knew that tears wouldn’t be far behind. That last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Candice so she could see how badly she was affected by her. She was just glad that she had the courage to finally ask her mother these questions.
She took the martini that was handed to her, settled in her seat and looked at her mother, waiting for her reply.
Candice put down her plate and turned toward Pearson.” You want the truth?”
“The whole and nothing but,” she said sarcastically. “What kind of question is that? You think I can’t handle the truth? News flash old woman: I’m grown!”
“Your tongue has always been so unpolished. No amount of training or exposure was ever able to change that.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Pearson said and flashed a smirk that complemented her sarcasm.
Candice rolled her eyes. “Touché.” Candice sat quietly for a moment. “Okay. I never wanted children.”
Pearson felt something in her chest plummet into her stomach. Though she suspected it, she didn’t expect Candice to come out and admit it. Immediately a flesh cloak of abandonment shrouded her. She swallowed hard to keep her emotions in check.
“I had you to keep your father happy.” Candice looked off into the distance. “God, I loved that man.” She paused. “I wasn’t good at that stuff. I didn’t have a good mother and I thought for sure that I wouldn’t be a good mother. But it didn’t mean that I didn’t like…love you.”
Pearson bit the inside of her lip. “Well that’s how it felt.” Pearson paused, waiting for an apology to go along with the confession. There was none.
“Sweetie! Bring me another martini. Make it good and stiff.” Candice turned her attention to Pearson. “Now can we get down to the reason I called you here?”
Society Wives Page 11
