by Briana Cole
“I’m good. I appreciate it,” Dorian said.
“No, I insist.” The man turned back to the waitress. “Get my man two of your specials. One for him and one for his lady over there.” The waitress nodded and flounced off to get their orders. The man exaggerated a groan of appreciation. “Lovely,” was all he murmured as he craned his neck to watch the waitress until she disappeared.
“I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to do that, man,” Dorian said.
“It’s no problem. I need to do something to keep that cutie coming around anyway.” The man grinned.
Dorian didn’t comment. It wasn’t like the pint-sized little waitress wasn’t pretty. But a quick look across the pool and he saw Shantae’s face was now angled toward him, though he still couldn’t tell if she was asleep. Better safe than sorry to pretend not to notice the waitress or the other fine-ass women this newcomer had brought with him. If he so much as glanced around a few too many times, he knew her insecurity would kick in full force and intensify an already tense vacation.
“What’s your name, man?” Dorian asked instead.
“Leo. You?”
“Dorian.”
“You and your lady celebrating something? Or just vacationing?”
“Our one-year anniversary,” Dorian answered, though it sure as hell didn’t feel like they were celebrating. “What about y’all?”
“Honeymoon.”
Dorian risked a quick peek at the woman in the cheetah print bikini as she emerged from the water. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder before heading to a nearby chair to take a seat.
“Congrats, man,” Dorian said, nodding in approval.
“Thanks, but me and Tina over there already had our honeymoon.” He gestured toward the two women at the table.
“It’s my honeymoon with my Kimmy. The one with the short hair.”
Dorian’s forehead creased in a shock of admiration. “Wait. All of them?”
“My wives,” Leo confirmed. “And my baby on the way.”
Dorian had to give props to the man. He could barely handle one, let alone three women. Even still, he wouldn’t mind so much if he could at least get sex from one of them. He and Shantae were going on day three and she was still on her cycle, which had his sexual frustration building. Especially with all the sexy, scantily clad women this island had to offer.
“Hey, man. Props to you,” Dorian said. “My wife wouldn’t go for that shit.”
Leo shrugged. “You never know. She may surprise you.”
Dorian thought again about the Marriage Hall Pass. He had a point.
“You see, women can be complicated creatures,” Leo went on. “But I’ve found that all of those roads lead to two important things.” He held up his fingers. “Love and security. You show her enough love and she feels secure financially, she’s liable to break her neck trying to please you. Anything extra is a bonus.”
Dorian listened intently. Hadn’t he showered Shantae with both? Was this really her way of trying to make him happy? “Your girls ever let you live out a fantasy?” he asked.
Leo chuckled as the waitress returned with a tray, handing each of them a drink. “I’ve got more than a man could ever need or want,” he boasted. “Every day is a fantasy. But I’ll tell you what. If your girl is willing to give you a little more, why not? Are you really doing something wrong if she allows you to do it?”
At that point, the other woman, who Leo had called Kimmy, strolled up and nudged Leo on his shoulder. “Sweetie, I’m going to take Lena back to the room,” she said. “It’s hot as hell out here, and the baby’s got her feeling sick.”
Leo nodded. “Kimmy, this is Dorian. Dorian, my love Kimmy.”
“Hi,” she greeted.
“Nice to meet you. And congratulations on your wedding.”
“Thanks,” she said, though she really didn’t sound excited.
Dorian turned away from the couple, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kimmy lean forward to press her lips against her husband’s in a goodbye kiss. For the briefest of moments, he pictured himself like Leo, entertaining both Shantae and Reagan. Not as wives, but with Shantae’s consent, it almost seemed like a blessing in disguise. Why cheat when he could have a hall pass?
“We’ll be along in a little bit,” Leo said, and she nodded before leaving the men alone once more.
“Do what makes you happy,” Leo continued with a knowing wink. “Who says you can’t have your cake and eat it too? Especially if your wife is the baker.” He lifted his glass and Dorian tapped his against it in a mutually understanding toast.
After chatting with Leo, Shantae’s offer was now fresh on Dorian’s mind, and he hated that he was actually giving it so much thought. She hadn’t really gone through the details and he hadn’t asked. It was worth digging into, if only to see where her mind was.
They ordered in that night and had dinner on their balcony. The umbrella of the patio table wafted gently in the breeze. The sky was already beginning to color with the impending sunset. Shantae had changed into a cotton short set jumper and a wide-brimmed straw hat that nearly obstructed her face from view. Dorian was also dressed casual in some white khaki shorts and a yellow T-shirt with the Jamaican flag plastered across the front. When the chef had wheeled in the dinner tray, Dorian had taken a deep inhale of the large lobster tail, peas and rice, and baked macaroni and cheese. The distinct island spices peppering the food had his mouth watering.
“That’s crazy,” Shantae said with a shake of her head as she dug into her macaroni and cheese. “So, he had not one but three wives? And they were all friends with each other?”
Dorian had just finished recapping about the polyamorous Leo, Tina, Kimmy, and Lena. Of course, he managed to leave out the little conversation he and Leo had. “Yep,” he responded. “Seemed that way. One was pregnant too.”
Shantae shook her head. “I could never be cool with something like that.”
“Never say never.”
“Oh, I can say never on that shit. I would end up killing all of y’all.” She giggled into her glass at her comment.
Dorian smirked. “So, I couldn’t have another wife,” he teased.
Shantae pretended to think about the question. “I guess let me have another husband first and we’ll go from there.”
They shared a laugh and continued eating. Dorian felt relaxed. More relaxed than he had been this entire time. Whether it was the alcohol or Shantae had finally let go of whatever ill feelings she had been harboring that had put her in a standoffish mood—either way, he was glad. Now he finally felt he could talk to her.
Shantae accepted the glass of wine he poured from the chilled bucket and leaned back, making herself comfortable in the chair.
“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble with all this,” she said, taking a sip and obviously enjoying the tranquility of the champagne combined with the beachside view. “We could have gone out tonight.”
“I thought we would be more comfortable here than in a restaurant,” Dorian said. “Plus, I wanted us to talk.”
She turned, her eyebrows already creased in a questioning frown. “What’s up?”
Dorian paused. “I think I just wanted to see where your mind was about the gift you gave me.”
Shantae stared silently, a blur of thoughts playing across her face. “I thought you told me you weren’t interested,” she said, eventually. “What changed your mind?”
“I’m still not interested. I just don’t think I was fair in not hearing you out. I shut you down without giving you the opportunity to explain.”
Shantae took another sip from her wineglass. “Well, I hadn’t thought it all the way through myself. It’s not like I’ve done it before.”
“Okay. Let’s start over from the beginning. Where did you say the idea came from again? A coworker?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know if you remember Tiffany. But she said that she and her husband do some kind of marriage hall pass on
ce a year. No strings attached. No questions asked. They pick a day and every year they go out, you know, do their thing and come home and move on like nothing happened.”
The whole thing still sounded crazy as hell. And too damn good to be true. Dorian listened, waiting for the catch. “And what is this supposed to prove?”
“I don’t think they’re trying to prove anything,” Shantae clarified. “It just lets them have a little freedom. Get those burning desires out of their system. She swears by it. Says it makes them a stronger couple. Been married twelve years. She says they don’t even argue.”
“I find that shit hard to believe.”
Shantae shrugged. “I’m just telling you what she said.”
Dorian sat back in his seat, tossing her words around over and over in his head. “So what? You have some burning desires you need to get out of your system?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re missing the point. If you don’t want to do it, just say that. Don’t start insinuating shit like I’m trying to sleep around, because I can do that with or without your fucking knowledge.”
Her words pierced like a knife. He hated the idea of Shantae out cheating—well, doing everything he had already done to her. It pissed him off even further because her comment was true, and she would be well within her rights.
He blew out a steadying breath, releasing some of the pent-up irritation. “I’m not insinuating that,” he said, much calmer than before. “I’m just saying if you’re unsatisfied or if there is something I’m not doing, I want you to feel comfortable telling me.”
This time, a ghost of a smile flirted around Shantae’s lips. “I do,” she said. “I would feel comfortable if it was something. But it’s nothing. That’s not why I think we should do this.”
“Okay, then why? Let me hear your thoughts.”
Shantae reached across the table to rest her hand on his. Ever so gently, she caressed his knuckles with feather-like strokes. “We’re both happy, right,” she murmured. “And we trust each other, don’t we?”
“Of course.”
“Well then, what could go wrong? And who knows, it’ll probably be fun,” she went on, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. “Just a little experiment. I mean, we don’t have to do it every year or anything. And we can always change our minds.”
The more she reasoned, the more the idea became more appealing. Thoughts of Reagan played on his subconscious once more. Damn, he wanted that woman. But was that crossing some invisible boundary? He didn’t agree or disagree. Not yet. But he sure as hell would be weighing his options.
“And what are the rules?” he asked, just to be sure.
Something glinted in Shantae’s eyes. Something dangerous and wildly erotic. “Who said anything about rules?”
Chapter Seven
Dorian never thought he would see the day, that’s for damn sure. He stood at the altar alongside his boys, Myles and Neil, in identical charcoal gray tailcoats with gray vests and black bow ties. A single purple handkerchief added a splash of color peeking out of each of their breast pockets. Like the others, Dorian waited patiently, his face stoic, his hands clasped firmly in front as the processional began and Freddie Jackson’s “You Are My Lady” blared through the speakers of the event hall.
He didn’t dare look over and risk breaking their strict formation, but if he had to guess, Dorian was sure Roman had that big-ass goofy grin on his face. Ever since he had talked to them about proposing to Bridget, and especially after she had said yes, the man had been damn near floating with his head in the clouds. Never had Dorian seen him act that way. Nor did he ever think he would see the day Roman would actually want to go through with this kind of commitment. But one thing he could genuinely say was his friend appeared happy. Damn what anyone else said or thought.
Roman’s daughter Maya followed behind the rest of the wedding party, looking just like a mini Roman with the exception of two long plaits with purple ribbons on either side of her head. She tossed a few pink rose petals to her feet before looking up and fiercely waving at her father from the middle of the aisle, which garnered a few chuckles and awws.
Then, the French doors opened and there the bride stood, her arm looped through her father’s, a purple and ivory beaded bouquet clutched in her other hand. She did look beautiful, Dorian had to admit. And even the sheer veil couldn’t hide the enormous smile plastered on her face.
Dorian chanced cutting his eyes to the side, surprised to see tears sliding down the side of Roman’s face. Damn, did he even cry at his own wedding? He didn’t think so. He remembered Shantae had been bawling the entire time, her makeup lightly smeared by the time she had made it to him at the altar. She hadn’t even been able to get through her vows in one breath. And all the while, he had gone through the ceremonial motions until they’d left as man and wife. Funny how that had only been a year ago when it felt like much, much longer.
He tuned out the couple as they exchanged vows and instead looked to the audience for a slight distraction. Everyone was enthralled by the festivities, some even dabbing their eyes dry with crumpled tissues. He had never been the crying type, so he sure as hell couldn’t relate to being so emotional for someone else’s marriage. Dorian pegged the last time he had shed a tear was at his father’s funeral. And he attributed that to the fact it was his father and he was a kid.
Without thinking, his eyes met Shantae’s in the crowd, and she too was watching with a heartfelt, almost envious, look at Roman and Bridget. Strange. Shantae acted as if they had something she didn’t. Dorian assessed it for a moment longer before he decided to ignore it. He had long since given up hope of trying to figure out every nuisance that made up Mrs. Shantae Graham. It was less stressful that way.
But when his eyes shifted to the woman beside her, he could only pray no one else had captured that moment of lust. Reagan’s eyes were already on him, as if she had been watching and waiting all along until his gaze found its way to hers. Even across the room, he could feel her heated stare as the hint of a smile flirted on her lips. She had tamed her wild mane into a neat bun at the base of her neck to further expose her sexy features. Now as they sat side by side, Dorian saw the striking sisterly resemblance. But still, his eyes lingered on Reagan, perhaps way longer than they should have. Shantae hadn’t mentioned her sister would be in attendance while they were getting dressed that morning. Then what was she doing there?
Dorian didn’t realize he was still staring until Shantae’s head whipped in his direction and he blinked to break the eye contact. He wasn’t even sure if Shantae caught him looking at her sister and him quickly turning away. It probably looked guilty as hell. Either way, he directed his gaze back to the altar and resolved to deal with her, and Reagan, later at the reception.
“A toast,” Myles said, lifting his glass in the air. “To our boy Roman for finally letting a woman put a leash on his wild ass.”
Dorian and the rest of their crew laughed and clinked their glasses together. “Hear, hear,” they shouted in unison, the reception activity buzzing around them.
“Y’all crazy,” Roman said, chuckling at their brotherly banter. “But you know what, I don’t even care. I love that girl.”
“Yeah, we know,” Dorian teased, nudging his arm. “I ain’t never seen your nose so wide open.”
“Hey, hold up. At least my woman didn’t punk me into a marriage, Dr. Graham,” Roman shot back with a shrug and lifted his glass to his lips to down the rest of his alcohol.
Dorian narrowed his eyes. There was that candor again, whether he wanted to hear it or not. He ignored the twinge of agitation. “Wait, what you mean? Shantae ain’t punked me into shit.” He watched as all three of his friends exchanged knowing looks before bursting out into another round of drunken laughter.
“Man, please, we already know if Shantae hadn’t gotten pregnant you wasn’t thinking about no damn marriage,” Myles said.
“Especially not with her,” Roman added. “But he thinks we’re stup
id.”
“Truer words have never been spoken, my friend.” It was Neil’s cosign this time. He pushed his glasses up farther on his nose. “She does have you on lock and key.”
Dorian laughed, partially to ease his discomfort. “Man, whatever,” he said. “If my girl punked me and has me on lock and key, why is she trying to give me a hall pass?”
Neil frowned. “The hell is that?”
“Nigga, you need a hall pass to use the bathroom in your own house?” Myles howled in laughter at his comment.
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Y’all know our anniversary was the other day,” he explained. “So, she gives me a Marriage Hall Pass, which is basically permission to cheat for one night.” All three stared, apparently waiting for him to laugh at the joke he had just made.
“Man, quit lying.” Roman was the first to speak.
Dorian took another drink. “I’m serious.”
“Well damn, let me ask Bridget for some shit like that.”
“And watch she divorce your ass before y’all get to the honeymoon,” Myles retorted.
“Well? You gon’ do it?” Neil’s questioning look was back on Dorian.
“I haven’t decided,” he admitted. Something was still holding him back. What, he didn’t know.
“What’s there to decide?” Roman nudged Dorian’s shoulder. “Other than which ass you want first and in what order.”
“Does that mean Shantae gets to have a hall pass?” Neil asked, apparently trying to make logical sense of the whole arrangement. “Or does it only work one way?”
“Nah, her too I believe.”
“And you cool with that?” It was Myles this time, shaking his head. “Hell no, ain’t nobody sleeping with my girl but me.”
Roman snorted. “What girl? You ain’t got no damn girl.”
Myles’s grin was smug. “Yeah, okay. If I ain’t got no girl, who did I bring with me then?” He nodded toward the buffet table where Reagan and Shantae stood in line chatting, plates in hand. Dorian’s heart dropped. Damn, they were dating. Why did that piss him off?
