No Perfect Affair

by Charmaine Galloway

  37

  Sasha

  As I sat at my desk and prepared to write my next novel, chills ran up my spine. I was happy that a major publishing company accepted my manuscript that I wrote a few months back. I knew my writing was the shit because I wrote from the heart. A lot of sex scenes that I wrote were sweaty and hot because I lived out those scenes. I gave Lamel a lot of credit because, if not for him, I would still be daydreaming about the kinky things that we did. When I was with my husband, I fantasized so much and wished that one day my time would come. But now, I can say I made it. I’m a published author, and my first novel would be released later this year. And I can’t wait for people to see my work. I smiled as I thought about my books being on the shelves of bookstores around the world.

  It was not easy being an author; it took a lot of hard work and dedication to finish a book. Sometimes I would get writer’s block. I would sit at my computer and want to write at least one thousand words, but nothing would come out. But I couldn’t stop writing because I had deadlines to make. Sometimes I wanted to give up because, in the back of my mind, I would have thoughts about people rejecting my work and giving me bad reviews. I knew that everyone was not going to like my work, so I had to look past all the negative thoughts and think positively. I needed to write two books a year, so I decided to start on my second manuscript to get it out of the way. And what was so great about starting now was that my memory was still fresh from the night before when Lamel and I had the best sex ever. As I wrote the sex scene, our night replayed in my head.

  * * *

  I walked out to the bedroom from the bathroom wearing my lacy red, two-piece, see-through skintight lingerie. I reached for the light switch to turn the light off, and Lamel stopped me in my tracks and said, “Hell no. Leave them lights on; I want to see every move you make in that shit you got on. Damn, babe, you’ve got me rock hard. I don’t even need no foreplay. Just come and jump on this.” He licked his lips and cuffed his manhood in his hands. He was still fully clothed. “I’m just playing.” He smiled seductively and continued. “I want to see you walk in those heels and that getup you’ve got on. Wait a minute; let’s do something a little different. I want you to dance for me.”

  Lamel got up from the bed and walked over to the radio and pushed the button. Chris Brown’s voice bellowed out. “There’s something in this liquor, girl. I’m looking at your figure. I just want to see you strip right now.” Those words did something to me. I started to grind my hips as I looked Lamel in his eyes. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of my hips. I walked closer to him and started winding my hips closer to his body as he sat on the edge of the bed. I twerked a little. Then I turned around, and my backside faced him. I popped my ass on him, and as I gave him a lap dance a few minutes later, he slid his finger under my lingerie and into my wetness.

  I moaned out loud, but I kept dancing as he pleased me erotically. He went deeper, and I gyrated slower. I couldn’t take anymore. I didn’t have a teenage body any longer; I was hitting thirty-five, and my knees were getting weak. That dude made me young again, but I couldn’t hang every night. I pushed myself up in a full stand, turned around, and kissed him hard as he gripped my ass, and then ripped the thin material off my body. My blood rushed through my body from pure lust because I knew what was about to go down. I snatched his shirt off over his head, unzipped his jeans, and filled my mouth with all of him, and he growled. A few minutes later, he lifted me up by my waist and laid me on my back. He slid himself inside of my warmness, and he stroked my insides long and hard. I screamed out in ecstasy until we both exploded.

  * * *

  My phone brought me back to reality. I put the pen down that I was writing with and picked up my cell phone.

  “What are you doing?” Lamel’s deep voice penetrated the line.

  “Writing.” My lips formed into a smile from the sound of his voice.

  “Well, I hope it’s real juicy, and I hope that I was an inspiration for that piece of work that you’re creating.”

  I sucked my teeth. “You know you are.”

  “Was I beating that thang up? You better have had me in there, ripping yo’ walls out,” he said seriously.

  I giggled.

  “Well, I don’t want to stop you from focusing on what you do. But I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to this, um, this sex party.”

  My eyes bulged out of my head. “Sex party?”

  “Yes, it’s a co-ed party, and we all dress up in costumes, you know; a sexy costume, and we just show up. It’s going to be a lot of stuff going on, and I don’t want to tell you everything because I want you to see for yourself.”

  “What, you’ve been to one before?” I wanted to know. But from the way he was talking, I already knew the answer.

  “Yes, I went to one a few years back. You know I’m a party animal; there isn’t a party that I haven’t been to. This is different, though, and I think you’ll like it.”

  “Okay, I’ll go,” I said without putting much thought into it. Everything we did was spontaneous, and I loved it.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up in about an hour.”

  “Wait . . . What am I gonna wear?” I said in a panic. I wouldn’t be ready in an hour.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got you. I’ll be there shortly,” he said right before he hung up.

  That’s what I enjoyed most about Lamel; he opened my eyes to new things. People that lived here, including myself, would say that Toledo was a boring place to live, but he would always find something to get into. Shoot, I enjoyed going to the strip club with him, somewhere I never thought I would go with a man.

  * * *

  Lamel finally arrived, and I was couldn’t wait to see what he had brought me to wear.

  “Hey, bae. I’ve got something sexy in here for you to wear. Get dressed so we can go,” he said after kissing me with his full lips and handing me a plastic shopping bag.

  I grabbed the bag and took the piece of lace fabric out of it. Then I opened up the bag wider to see where the rest of the outfit was. “What is this?” I said with an attitude as I held what looked like a black, lace shoestring. I knew he didn’t think I was going to wear that. I would look like a cheap hooker.

  “Why you acting like that?” he smiled. I didn’t see nothing funny. “I went to this sexy lingerie store in the mall, and I looked hard to find something that will have you looking like no other. You will be the baddest chick at the party. I think you’ll like it better when you put it on. Bae, sometimes you gotta think out of the box.”

  “No, I’m going to find a box to put this in.” I looked at the fabric again. “This thing won’t cover up one of my breasts,” I shrieked.

  “Calm down; it stretches,” he said as if he solved the problem. Then, he continued. “Just go and try it on, and let me be the judge of how it looks.”

  I shook my head and walked into the bedroom. I didn’t want to look like a fool and put it on in front of him because I knew it wasn’t going to work out. After I struggled to stuff my size ten frame into what looked like a size two onesie, I was shocked at the result. The one-piece lingerie fit my curves nicely, and the material also pushed up my breasts and lifted my butt. I liked it, but it was something I wouldn’t wear out at a club. This was bedroom wear only. I walked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. And when I looked at Lamel, his eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.

  “Daaaamn, you look phat!” He took my hand and turned me around to see my backside. Then he slapped me across my butt, and I jumped because I wasn’t expecting that. “I can’t wait to get you there. The men are gonna hate that I’ve got the sexiest and the baddest chick in the club.” He smiled hard as he rubbed his hands together.

  “I ain’t wearing this out to no club. I don’t have any clothes on. I look like a prostitute on the stroll. You’re tripping,” I spat.

  “Babe, you look good for the occasion. This is what is worn at these types of parties. Please ju
st come and you’ll see. You will have the best time of your life. I promise you will enjoy yourself. Just trust me; I’ve got you.” Lamel pleaded with me with his eyes. I was so caught up with what he got me that I didn’t even notice that he was dressed in his costume. He had on some nice, form-fitting jeans, with a thick, black, leather belt, and black cowboy boots and hat. He had on a black bow tie around his neck without a shirt on. I told myself that I would try it, just once, and if I didn’t like it, Lamel wouldn’t hear the last of it. I would let him have it, and I guarantee he’d would have to make it up to me later. I got my stilettoes, and we headed out the door to the sex party.

  38

  Melody

  “Rodney, why the hell have you been dodging me?” I yelled at him after I opened the door. He walked in and said, “I’m sorry, Mel. I’ve been tryin’ to make this money. I had some stuff that I needed to take care of.”

  “Why didn’t you come by the other day like you said you were? I was waiting up for you, and you never showed,” I whined. As much as I hated how he treated me, I always got weak. As soon as I saw his face, the anger I had was no longer an issue.

  “Um . . . I was gambling, boo, and when I got done, it was four in the morning. I knew you were in bed asleep. You know how it be when I’m trying to get that paper.” He let out a deep sigh as if he had a bad night. He played cards and pool for money.

  “Gambling never stopped you from coming over to my house at four at the morning no other time,” I spat. I wasn’t going to let him get away with his lies that easily.

  His eyes shifted from my face to my belly bump. I was wearing a shirt that was snug against my upper body. “Melody, are you pregnant?” he asked with wide eyes.

  I took my right hand, rubbed my stomach, and gave him a half smile, “Yes.” I couldn’t tell by his blank expression what he would say next.

  There was a brief pause; then he said, “Last time I came in you, I told you to get that pill.” He squinted his eyes and gave me a look that said he was confused.

  “I know, but, um . . . that day . . . I had become so busy and I . . . I kind of forgot. And when I remembered, it was like . . . um, three days later,” I lied. I couldn’t look him in his eyes. I never planned on getting that morning-after abortion pill. I wanted his baby because I knew that would make us become closer in our relationship.

  “Damn, Melody.” He walked over and flopped down on the couch. I knew he was going to be mad, but I hoped he would get over it.

  “Rodney, I’m sorry, bu—”

  “Melody, you should be sorry.” He cut me off as he got up and walked toward me. “How far along are you?” He looked at my stomach again.

  “I’m about four months,” I stuttered. I knew he wasn’t about to tell me to have an abortion because that was not happening.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You’ve been around here with my seed, and you didn’t even tell me. I should have been here for you while you were going through morning sickness and your late-night food cravings.” He was angry, but his tone was soft.

  “You’re not mad at me for not taking the pill?” I looked into his eyes.

  “I’m mad because you kept this from me. I shouldn’t have told you to get that pill. I love you, and it takes two to tango.” He got on bended knee to rub my stomach. I smiled at his corny words, but my heart warmed when he caressed me in his arms.

  * * *

  My cell phone ringing woke me up from my dream. I sat up in bed and picked up the phone from my nightstand. “Who’s this?” I said to myself after I looked at the number and didn’t have a clue who it was.

  I cleared my throat. “Hello.”

  “Hi, is this Melody?” a female’s voice on the other end said.

  “Who is this?” I recognized the voice but couldn’t picture her face.

  “This is Tasha, Rodney’s sister.”

  “Oh, how you doing?” I forgot to save her number in my phone when we bumped into each other at the beauty shop. She must’ve been calling to set up a date for us to get a bite to eat.

  “Not too good. Rodney is in the hospital in serious condition; he got shot last night.” She now had sorrow in her voice.

  “What!” I shouted. There was a brief pause. My heart dropped to my stomach. I jumped from my bed and paced the floor. Words wanted to come from my mouth, but they were stuck in my throat.

  After telling myself to breathe, I asked, “Is he going to be okay? Can I see him?” Tears fell from my eyes because when she said he was in serious condition that didn’t sound good at all.

  “Yes, he’s in Toledo Hospital, room 342.”

  I sat on the edge of my bed so I could calm down. It felt as if my legs were about to give in. “I’m on my way now.” I got off the phone, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a wrinkled, loose-fitted tee shirt, got my keys, and I was out of the house in no time.

  * * *

  Walking into Rodney’s room was the worst thing I had ever experienced. Instantly, I felt sick to my stomach, and without realizing it, I reached out my hand and began to rub my belly and the baby within. It was hard for me, watching him lying in that bed, tubes attached to his body that were connected to all kinds of machines. He looked as if he would die at any minute. I couldn’t help the tears that fell from my eyes. The strong, sexy man that I loved was nowhere present, and in his place was a person that looked weak and frail and standing at death’s door. I was terrified, my anger toward him instantly forgotten.

  Struggling to accept what I was seeing, I was in shock. I wanted so badly for this to not be true, but it was, and I needed to face it. His eyes were closed as I walked up to his bed and placed my hand over his. His sister was sitting on the other side of the bed, looking as sad as I felt, but she looked worried as well because her brother was still in danger.

  Rodney was only allowed two people in his room at one time. If your name wasn’t on the list at the nurse’s station, then you couldn’t enter his room or call him. Security was on high alert since they were still looking for the guy that shot him, and everyone was on the lookout in case the guy showed up at the hospital to finish the job.

  When I was finally able to control my emotions, I asked Tasha what happened.

  “Girl, some fool shot him in the chest at the club. The people on the scene said the dude was mad because Rodney was dancing with his girl. But some other people said that the dude and Rodney had beef in the past, and he came in there looking for Rodney. Apparently, they had some words, and that’s when the dude pulled out his gun and shot him.” She paused to catch her breath. She was emotional and hurt at the fact that her brother was lying unresponsive in the hospital bed. I understood exactly how she felt. I didn’t know what to say, so I just held his hand and looked at his face. I was glad that Tasha had called me. It didn’t matter what we had been through; I loved that man with all my being, and I was going to be there for him, no matter what.

  “My brother has a collapsed lung, and his intestines and a few of his other organs are all screwed up from that traveling bullet. The cops haven’t found who did this shit to him yet, and if they don’t find him soon, I’m going to have to get involved,” Tasha announced. I was surprised at her words, especially since she didn’t seem to have the tough guy personality. I felt her, though. When it came to family, you were down for anything to make sure justice was served.

  I stayed at the hospital the entire first week that Rodney was in there. The whole time I was praying for him to wake up. Around day number four, he did just that. The moment I saw him moving, the tears started to fall from my eyes, and nurses rushed into the room. That’s when he opened his own eyes and looked at me.

  “Why are you crying?” he questioned me as the nurse stood there taking his vitals and administering medicine through one of his tubes.

  “Because you’re hurt,” was my quiet response.

  “I’ll be all right. It’s just a gunshot.” He tried to joke, but I found nothing funny. “You remember being shot?�
� the nurse questioned.

  “Unfortunately, yeah,” he said as he coughed a little. That made me cry some more. “Come on, Mel.” His speech began to slur. “Everything is going to be all right.”

  Before I could give him any type of response, his eyes began to close, and the next thing I knew, he was snoring lightly.

  “This kind of medication kicks in really fast. I had to give it to him to ease the tremendous pain he’s going to be in. He’ll be out for a while; then, when he wakes, the police will be here to take his statement, so you may as well go home and get some rest.” I took the nurse’s advice, but I was back every day. I was there when he woke up, talking to him, and making sure he was doing okay. That went on until his eighth day there. That was when I finally decided to tell him about the baby.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said to him after I had heard the nurses telling his sister that although he had organ issues, he was doing much better than everyone expected. “What?” he asked, looking at me like I was crazy.

  “I’m pregnant,” I repeated myself.

  That’s when he looked me up and down, and in his eyes, I could see things falling into place. “That’s why you’ve been gaining weight,” he reasoned to himself. Then, he paused for a moment, as if in thought, and said, “You didn’t take that pill, did you?”

  “No.” I was honest.

  “Which time?” He wanted to know.

  “The time before the last one.”

  “So, when I came to your house last week, you were already pregnant?”