by Noelle Vella
I took a sip of my wine, glanced out onto the dance floor, then back to Carl. “How do you know that?”
“I felt it when you looked at me. And when you didn’t immediately break eye contact, I knew you could feel what I was feeling.”
“I don’t know what feeling you’re talking about,” I lied.
He knew I was lying, but being the gentleman he was, he wouldn’t call me on it. I’d actually been feeling him since the moment I laid eyes on him, but there would be no way I’d tell him that. I didn’t hide the fact that the ring on his finger had my attention though.
He saw me looking. Made a show of removing his ring and dropping it in his shirt pocket. Then he picked up his drink, Crown Royal on ice, and took a sip.
“Doesn’t mean shit to me if it doesn’t mean shit to you,” he said nonchalantly.
I shook my head in disbelief, then found myself getting angry. Is this what married men did when they met new women? Act like the vows they took meant nothing?
I told him, “I’m not taking my ring off.”
“You don’t have to. I took mine off to make you comfortable.”
“It wasn’t bothering me.”
He gave a lopsided grin. “That’s good to know.”
Even before finding out Malik had cheated on me, he and I hadn’t had sex in a while. Probably more so my fault than his at this point. But that was only because Malik had forgone the foreplay part of sex. His idea of asking me for sex was asking me to “handle his dick.”
As the night progressed, Carl and I kept the conversation light. The flirting crept in occasionally. The alcohol was getting to me. My breasts had swelled, nipples hardened, and my lotus had definitely bloomed. I crossed my legs to stave off the crippling feel of needing to release. I hadn’t had an orgasm in over a year. Carl moved closer to me once the group started singing again. His eyes never left mine as the pad of his thumb traced my lips. I could feel every pressure point I had burst alive. His touch made me feel like I was the only woman in the world and the only one who mattered.
I remembered a time when Malik had made me feel that way. Remembered when he would take his time to kiss me like he didn’t want to forget my taste. Over the past year, his idea of foreplay had been a quick lick on my pussy and a tap against my clitoris. I missed the days when Malik used to take his time with my body. He used to lick me from the front to the back. There hadn’t been a place on my body that Malik’s tongue hadn’t been. Hell, his favorite pastime used to be tossing my salad. These days we barely kissed.
I couldn’t get past the nicotine and the smell of smoke to kiss him like I wanted to, and he didn’t seem to care whether I kissed him or not. And now I knew why . . .
Kissing.
Damn, it had been a long time since I had been kissed so thoroughly. Malik hadn’t taken the time to let his tongue trace the outline of my lips before nibbling on the bottom one, then sucking it into his mouth. He placed one hand on my waist to ease me closer to him while the other one gently caressed my face as our tongues danced the night away.
Nah, Malik didn’t let his tongue hit the roof of my mouth and send chills back down my spine. Malik’s kisses had been a question mark, while Carl’s kiss was the exclamation point to my arousal.
Oh shit, my mind cried. Shell, you’re kissing another man, and he’s not your husband. You’re kissing another woman’s husband, my mind screamed, but for the life of me, I wouldn’t be able to stop if I wanted to. Carl’s kiss was slow, steady, and deliberate. It was clear he was set on sampling me one way or the other.
His kiss had been a prelude to passion, a rapport enacted physically with the promise of something more erotic to come. I was in trouble. The thrill of experiencing something I hadn’t in over a year, a mind-numbing orgasm, and something I’d never experience . . . a man with length and girth. I’d already started praying to the sex gods that Carl knew what to do with all he was packing. I was so heated, my nipples had started to push through the fabric of my bra causing a slight tingle of pain that stimulated me more.
When Carl’s hand moved down my waist to roam over the curves of my hips, I didn’t stop him. That same hand gripped my thigh and when he moaned into my mouth, I was pretty much his to do with what he wanted. Damn, bitch, you’re easy, my conscious screamed. You’re a whore just like the woman screwing your husband, my mind yelled once more.
I tensed when Carl’s hand gripped the back of my braids. Something about that aggressive move made me feel more alive. I got brazen in my dance with the devil. Allowed my hands to travel up his thighs. One hand fondled the length I felt behind his zipper, and the other mapped the muscles in his chest. I could feel what made him a man anatomically swell so regally under my intense scrutiny.
Carl pulled back from the kiss, growled low as he looked into my eyes, then said to me, “He doesn’t matter to me, if she doesn’t matter to you.”
I knew what he was asking. Knew what he wanted. I held the answer to his question.
Chapter 6
Gabrielle
My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. If I could, I would have taken out my contact lenses and put them back in, just to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. Shell and Carl were sitting directly in front of Diego and me, swapping spit and playing tonsil hockey like they were the only two people in existence. I might actually be happy for Shell if it wasn’t for the fact that they were both married.
What in the heck was she thinking? I mean, I knew she was somewhat under the influence, but I think it was less about the alcohol and more about her need to feel something—anything. As much as I couldn’t stand Malik and everything he had done, she was married to him, albeit unhappily. And yet, here she was, breaking her marriage vows for all the world to see.
Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who thought they were making a spectacle of themselves. Diego looked shell-shocked, and some of the other patrons were staring as well. For the second time tonight, I kicked Shell under the table. She gazed in my direction, shooting me the most venomous look I had ever seen. Oh yes, Shell was ticked, but I’d rather have her angry with me now than for her to do something she would regret later.
As far as I knew, she had never broken her vows, not a single solitary one, and despite her husband being a gaping lying, cheating butthole, I knew she still loved him. Yeah, she looked, but she had never, ever touched, never stepped outside of her marriage. Which was why, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Shell was acting like a single woman on the prowl. Or like she belonged to another man. This simply was not like her. But then again, when a man has constantly beat you down emotionally and mentally on a daily basis, I could actually understand her urge to act so impulsively.
I mean, here was an extremely attractive man showing her the attention she yearned for, attention that she should have been getting from her husband, but wasn’t. In a few short minutes, Carl had given Shell something that she hadn’t received in months: an awareness that she was desired and wanted. I could appreciate that feeling. I’d been there myself, and could easily sympathize with her situation.
Just as I was contemplating having another discussion with Shell, I felt my purse vibrate. I hadn’t checked my cell all evening, mainly because there was no reason for anyone to call me while I was away, unless it was extremely important. I took the phone out of my purse just in case it was something urgent. When I looked at the screen, I saw who the call was from; it was Daniel. He was probably still salty about this morning, but that was his problem, not mine. I promptly pressed the ignore button on the screen.
Noticing I had some text messages, I entered my pin number, then looked to see who they were from. I rolled my eyes, seeing they were all from Daniel. Thanks for leaving me hanging . . . Where are you? . . . Oh, so now you’re ignoring me? The messages went on and on. I guess he got tired of texting and decided to call instead. Not five minutes later, he called back, and once again, I ignored him. I really should have tur
ned my phone off, but I always kept it on in case of an emergency. When he called for the third time, I decided to answer, intent on nipping him in the bud once and for all. I excused myself from the table, heading outside.
“Yes, Daniel,” I answered, trying to sound less annoyed than I actually was.
“Why didn’t you answer me before?” he asked.
“Because I’m on vacation, remember? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”
“Oh, and you don’t have two seconds to answer my call?”
“Is it something important?”
“Well, unless you don’t consider me losing my job as important, then I guess not. You just bounced like you didn’t even care.”
I took in a deep breath, taking a woosah moment before answering him. “Daniel, I took you in after you showed up at some unholy hour in the middle of the night pissy drunk, interrupting what little sleep I was trying to get, mind you. Now, I didn’t have to do that, but out of concern for you, and because I didn’t want you driving like that, I let you stay. I tried to talk to you, but you passed out before I even had a chance. Now I feel bad about you losing your job, but there was nothing I could do for you. This trip was planned a long time ago, and I wasn’t going to miss it.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me that gallivanting around like you’re twenty-one with someone who should be at home with her kids is more important than me?”
In no time flat I went from annoyed to flat-out fuming. I was trying to be compassionate because of his situation, but Daniel was not making it very easy.
“Hey, things look bad right now, but you’ll find something. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, if you need a few dollars to get by, then I’ll help you out. But it will have to wait until I get back.” As the words left my mouth, I had a bad feeling that my promise to help him would come back to bite me in the butt later on.
“I appreciate that, but I want to talk to you now. Are you really that busy?”
I couldn’t win for losing. I moved the phone away from my ear, looking at it with a confused expression as if Daniel was directly in front of me.
“Look,” I said, all calmness gone out of my voice, “I can’t talk right now. I’m out, and I’m being rude by standing out here talking to you. If I can, I will call you later.”
“You know what—fuck it!” he yelled. “Go on, hang out with your little girlfriend. I’ll deal on my own.”
Next thing I heard was a click on the other end of the phone. So much for trying to relax. I was so heated I had half a mind to call him back. I was about to when I felt the presence of someone behind me. I turned to see Diego looking down at me.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.
“Not long. I wanted to see if you were okay. You were gone for a while.”
“I’m fine. Nothing serious.”
I hadn’t noticed it at the time, but the temperature had dropped quite a few degrees, and while it was still unseasonably warm, the night air had taken on a bit of a chill.
“Are you sure? You seem upset.” He appeared genuinely concerned.
I put on my best poker face and replied, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“If you say so.” He looked skeptical. “You’re shivering,” Diego said.
I should have brought a jacket with me, but I was so excited about Shell and me going out, the thought had completely slipped my mind. “A little, but I’ll be okay.”
Walking past me, Diego deactivated the alarm to a graphite luster metallic Acura MDX. He had conveniently gotten a valet parking space directly in front of the club. Opening the side door, he took a black leather jacket off one of the seats and placed it around my slender shoulders. It felt heavy, but it did take the chill off. Then he climbed into one of the vehicle’s middle seats, motioning for me to join him. I gave him a look that said, “I don’t know you like that.”
Catching the hint, he flashed that sexy smile of his, saying, “I’ll leave the door open. And you can even have the keys.” He held them up for me to see.
I cautiously approached the car, climbing in with my hand outstretched. I took the keys from him, then sat in the seat next to him.
“You must be from New York,” he laughed.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“Because you’re paranoid just like one,” he teased.
I laughed. “Oh, is that right? Hey, a girl has to protect herself, you know.”
“I completely agree,” he said, putting up his hands as if in surrender. “If I had a sister, I would want her to be just as careful. It’s just New York knows New York.”
I knew there was a reason I liked him, besides the obvious.
“Really, now? Do tell,” I said as I leaned back in the seat, making myself comfortable.
“I’m originally from the Bronx. Southside. Now I live in downtown Brooklyn.”
“I’m from Brooklyn,” I said, pride in my voice.
“Why did you leave New York?”
“The weather,” I remarked.
“So you wimped out, huh?” he quipped, with a wink.
“Whatever,” I said, snickering.
I grew up in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn, a place I termed “The Little West Indies” because of the diverse people that lived there: Barbadians, Jamaicans, Trinidadians, Haitians, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, and, of course, black Americans. A few white people, Asians, and Indians lived in the neighborhood as well. I was usually good at placing accents, but Diego’s confused me a bit.
“Where are your parents from, because, for the life of me, I cannot figure out your accent.”
He smiled. “My father is Afro-Cuban, and my mother is Puerto Rican. I spent a lot of time in both places growing up.”
“That explains it. I like your accent though.”
“I like yours too.”
I gave him a quizzical look. “Diego, I don’t have an accent.”
“I know,” he kidded.
I shook my head.
Diego and I talked on and on and discovered we both liked sports. You couldn’t be a true New Yorker without liking some type of sport. For baseball, we both like the New York Mets; football, the New York Giants; and for hockey, I liked the New York Rangers, while he liked the New Jersey Devils. Diego was a tried-and-true New York Knicks fan. Since the New Jersey Nets became the Brooklyn Nets, my loyalty was split between the two teams.
The conversation had been so good that neither one of us realized that we had been outside talking for a good forty-five minutes until I checked the time on my phone.
“Wow, we’ve been gone for a long time. You think Shell and Carl are okay in there?”
“I think they are doing just fine without us around,” Diego remarked. “Honestly, I came outside to check on you, but I also felt like a third wheel in there.”
I already knew Shell’s motivation for her actions, but I had no idea what drove Carl to do what he did. I figured who better to ask for some insight than his good friend.
“Diego, I’m curious. Why did Carl push up on Shell? I mean, with him being married and all.”
“Why did Shell allow him to push up on her? She’s married too,” he countered.
“Touché. It’s just, I know why Shell is acting the way she is, and I don’t want her to get caught up in something that she may not be able to get out of.”
“It appears both our friends have their reasons for their actions. All I will say is they’re two consenting adults. Whatever happens, they will have to deal with it. Right now, I’m more concerned with the woman sitting next to me. I feel like dancing. Think you can keep up?” he asked with a sly grin.
It had been so long since I had danced with someone. I hoped that I hadn’t forgotten how, but he didn’t need to know that. “Can you?” I shot back, smiling.
“We’ll see,” he replied, as we started to exit the car.
I attempted to take off Diego’s jacket, but he stopped me. “Hold on to it,�
� he said. “You may need it later.”
I smiled at his chivalry. After I stepped out of the car, I handed the keys back to him, allowing him to lock up and reset the alarm. As we walked the few steps back to the club and he opened the door for me, I thought about how the night had already taken several unexpected twists and turns. I had to wonder how many more would come before our night was over.
Chapter 7
Diego
My cell rang out in the middle of the night, waking me from a long-needed sleep. I ignored it. Sent whoever was on the other end to voice mail so my restful peace wouldn’t be disturbed. I’d just turned over and gotten settled into another comfortable position when my house phone blared alive like it was a siren, a warning bell. I groaned loudly, turned over, and grabbed the cordless contraption from its cradle. I didn’t bother to look at the caller ID. Whoever it was had better be in a life-or-death situation.
“What?” I solemnly answered.
“Diego,” the female’s voice on the other end called out to me.
I turned onto my back and let out a sigh as I rubbed my eyes.
“Yeah,” I responded.
Something crashed in her background, like a loud explosion, while she screamed.
“Please come and get Carl. I don’t want to call the police, but I’m scared. He’s scaring me, and I don’t know who else to call,” she said frantically.
I glanced over at the woman in my bed, wondering why in the hell I’d allowed her to stay past the moment of sex. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I stood, anxiety riding me like waves beating against the shore. That loud crashing explosion sounded in the woman’s background again.
“What’s going on, Dalisay?” I asked her.
“Carl, stop!” she yelled at him before answering me, frantically. “He just snapped. Went crazy—”
“Open the fucking door,” I heard Carl’s booming voice in the background. “Bitch, I ought to kill your motherfucking ass,” I heard.
