Reviews about If You Don’t Tell
“… Raw and real, If You Don’t Tell is a bold new addition to the world of erotic fiction. An eye-opening read from a fresh new literary voice on the rise." – Apex Reviews
"Stay tuned; this is a hot, steamy read that is full of surprises. I recommend If You Don’t Tell to readers of all genres." -APOOO Book Reviews
If You Don’t Tell
a D.V. Hent novel
Published by Naughty Ink Press at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 D.V. Hent
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Titles in Print at: NInk Press Store
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Chapter 1
Quinton
December 30th (Friday)
“I’m going to kill him.”
It wasn’t a euphemism. He had about thirty pounds and six inches on me, but no matter how much he fought me, I was going to tightly wrap my hands around Andre’s neck and watch as he struggled to cling onto life. A devilish smile crept across my face as the life slowly began to drain…
“Hello Quinton. I didn’t realize it was you—bald with a goatee, now. It looks good on you.”
Her voice was as seductive as the last time I’d heard it a few years back. She usually wore Brooks Brother’s business suits, Versace eyeglasses and Vaneli heels; but tonight she wore a tight, slinky black dress that hugged her sides, exposing her long gorgeous legs. I swallowed hard as I remembered the last time I saw her—how tightly her legs wrapped around me.
I quickly loosened up the tie to the penguin suit I was obligated to wear. “Hello Val.” I managed to mumble.
She makes number five.
She took a step towards me and was so close her breasts pressed against the side of my arm. By the smirk on her face, it wasn’t done accidentally. “That’s all I get after all this time, a ‘hello Val’? I thought we meant so much more to each other.”
I took a step back. “We don’t,” I said, still struggling with my tie which seemed to tighten as she drew closer.
Valerie Thomas simply smiled at me, exposing those pretty white teeth that had probably helped her win so many cases. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?” She whispered into my ear and when I didn’t respond, she took a business card and slid inside my pants pocket. “Well just in case you change your mind about…us, take this.”
“Is that him?” I heard one of them ask as they headed into the party. “He’s really cute!”
“Yes ladies, right there is the mighty Quinton James. Be careful with him, though. He’s a tiger in the sack, but he’s just a lamb when it comes to commitment.” Val mocked and the other three began to giggle like school girls as they all continued to leer at my crotch.
Andre has to die.
As I stood next to the professionally decorated, twelve foot tall pine tree and welcomed guests into a home that wasn’t mine, I’d always considered myself the prototypical bachelor. I guess prototypical in the sense that I liked clubbing, women and sex, but not necessarily in that order. I enjoyed being single. I relished in my freedom and I loved not having anyone to answer to. Whenever the issue of love came up, I only entertained the notion whenever I felt obligated to do so, but unknown to Val, I’d met someone who had singlehandedly changed my perspective.
After stepping inside the house and looking around the dimly lit room for what seemed like the millionth time that night, I realized that Dre had put together a ‘who’s who’ of my past relationships. So far there were only five, but they never came alone. They always brought friends who I’d never seen, but somehow they all knew of me. Whenever any of them passed, and they often did, I’d go as far as acknowledging their existence, but it took a conscious effort for me not to stare.
Even with the influx of holiday alcohol warming my body and lowering my inhibitions, I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that I was immune to my old life. Still, that wasn’t what I wanted anymore.
I was a changed man.
Unfortunately, not everyone believed in my change and the guest list was a key indication that my best friend, Andre, was back to his old games. As I bit on my lip, thinking about how I’d beat him to death, I remembered the real reason I’d volunteered to do this-- for her.
It was her soft golden complexion and innocent smile that captured me when we met and I was still amazed that even after all this time, I still desired her.
So here we are, three years later, and my fiancée, Laela Booker, was by far the most beautiful woman in the room. When I wasn’t forced to play host to past loves, I’d been staring at her for most of the night. Often she’d look in my direction, grin in such a girlish way that even her eyes seemed to smile. Yet, no matter how much I hoped she would visit me, she’d inevitably return her full attention to her best friend, Teniyah.
Usually, I was a guest at Andre’s post Christmas-pre New Year’s shindig, which he called “The Happy Merry”, but this year I was a host at the festivities instead of enjoying them. Though I had no idea that he’d planned on turning this party into a trip down memory lane, this was who he was and to expect anything else meant I’d be fooling myself.
In addition to a few of my partners from the past, he’d invited people from his job at a prestigious investment firm. My hosting position required that I greet the newcomers, laugh with the nearly drunken ones, and whenever possible, parley with his superiors about subject matter I had no clue about. My only reprieve was that before tonight, I’d never realized how awful most drunken people danced. I wasn’t exactly sure how anyone could do the robot to ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, but as I watched several people making a conscious attempt, I was definitely being educated and entertained.
The only problem I had was that during the whole party, all I thought about was walking over to where she was to just be next to her—to indulge in that sweet scent of hers. I was finally about to renounce my hosting duties when a hand perched itself on my left shoulder and the smartass voice I’d grown used to yelled over the blasting music.
After about an hour listening to Christmas songs blast throughout his mansion, my best friend appeared from the crowd, still dancing, with two glasses of champagne in his free hand.
“Hey cocoa brother, I don’t know if you knew, but somewhere in the house—like pretty much everywhere—there’s a party going on with ass to be conquered! And for your information, the entire collection of reputable ass is in the opposite direction of where you are staring. Speaking of which, you suck as a host. There’s no liquor in your hand and what the hell are you staring at?”
“I should kick your ass you for what you did tonight!”
“Whatever do you mean?” I glared at him, and he understood that I wasn’t joking. “It’s not my fault that you’ve slept with half the women here! Hell, probably with half the women in Houston! And since I’ve pretty much banged the other half, you make the selection of potential partners decidedly smaller.”
“I had a daydream that I was strangling you.”
“Was I still sexy in this daydream?”
“Dammit Dre, can’t you stop joking? You invited Valerie? That’s the fifth girl I’ve seen. At some point the shit stops being funny, man. At the door, I felt like her and her girlfriends practically eye-raped me.”
“I fail to see the problem.”
“That’s your problem, Dre. You always fail to see the problem!”
He leaned over and tightened the tie I’d worked so hard to loosen. “Look, Q, if I knew you were gonna be so bitchy, I wouldn’t have done it. I figured it’d be a pre-bachelor, bachelor party. You know—the kind where we take a trip down memory lane.”
I yelled, trying to over speak Run-DMC’s ‘Christmas in Hollis’. “You did all of that, but the future Mrs. James is over there with her best friend!” I grabbed one of the glasses from his hand and quickly washed it down. “At some point, the shit you do stops being funny.”
“Look, Q, I’m sorry. Maybe I took it too far. This is a Happy-Merry, so let’s just make the best of this.” He grabbed me and squeezed until I swore he was about to crush my ribs. “I love you, man.” As soon as he let go, he apologetically handed me the other glass of champagne.
“I’m going over to see my fiancée.” I tried handing him the glass back, but he folded his arms.
“Damn Quinton, you’re at a party where there’s a plethora of potentially premier poon, most of it part of your personal repertoire, and all you can do as fantasize about your own girl? There’s something seriously wrong here. The Quinton I know would at least dance with that fine piece of ass, known as Valerie, before he retired for the night. Dawg, it’s a party! Have some fun and stop acting so damn whipped!”
“I like being whipped,” I said. “It keeps me from being you.”
“Just imagine this. If you’re not concerned with your fine ass exes, think of how Lae’s absolutely gorgeous girlfriend, Teniyah, would look naked. Then imagine me and her rolling around in a bed full of Jell-O. That, my friend, is the kind of domestication I could go for. Whatever whipped shit you’re on, that shit makes my penis frown.”
I raised an eyebrow as I turned towards him, wondering how long it took him to concoct such an elaborate fantasy. I continued walking towards the kitchen, passing a couple who reeked of eggnog. I managed to catch the man as he stumbled, giving each a contrived smile before turning around and facing Dre.
“You know, Franklin just might not like what you’re saying about his wife.”
Franklin and Teniyah Oliver were the oddest couple I’d ever met. Niya was a model: beautiful, tall and a wild card. Franklin, on the other hand, was about six inches shorter than his wife and reminded me of a geeky version of Al B. Sure.
“Franklin is a pussy. If he heard what I just said, he’d probably cry. The way I see it, she must be putting it on his ass to have that brother whipped the way he is. Hell, I wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of whatever she’s got him whipped with.” He smirked, hardly taking his attention away from Teniyah.
“Why is it that I’m domesticated for liking where I’m at, but whenever you want to be whipped, you talk about it like it’s the best thing in the world? And of all the people you want to be whipped by, you choose another man’s wife? You’re a goddamn walking contradiction!”
He smiled at me as only Dre could smile: self-assured and sarcastic. “You don’t get it, Q. You’ve made the winning TD, the final basket, the overtime goal. You’re safe. You’ve found that illusive Golden Poon and now you’re going to marry it. I will never marry! To me, GP is a mythical beast that women tell us about to get us to commit. You know how much I hate commitment, as much as you used to, which makes banging another man’s beautiful wife all the more appealing!”
My throat was beginning to hurt with all the yelling we’d been doing, but bantering was what we did best and tonight wouldn’t change that.
“You’re a goddamn poet.”
“I try.”
“So what you’re saying is that to find your ‘mythical beast’, you’d sleep with a married woman?”
He raised an eyebrow. “And you wouldn’t?”
“I just can’t go along with that. Marriage is supposed to be sacred and I don’t have a lot of pity for adulterers. What’s the point of getting married if you’re going to cheat anyway?”
“Let’s not kid ourselves, though. Teniyah is fine as hell. She could talk shit about me, my lifestyle, my deceased parents and even make fun of my five inch love stick and I’d still put in enough work to break her hip. Hell, Franklin could even be in my cheering section. Truth is, I’d sleep with any married woman in this house, in front of her man, and not be remorseful. I’d even go so far as to say that I’d knock the dust of the draws of a fluffy chick—while you all watched—if I knew the coochie was good.”
I frowned at the prospect of watching him have sex. “You know something, Dre. It took me a while to figure this out, but you’re a nasty-ass man.”
“Perhaps,” he began almost laughing at my commentary, “but before you go down on the last person you’ll ever go down on, maybe you should try listening to me for once. Do something else with someone else. Threesomes are pretty trendy and if you were to get down with Lae and Niya, you’d be a god among men. Of course I’m not advocating this adulterous love triangle, but I’d be willing to give you wedding with a ‘paid in full’ receipt if it ever went down—just so you know.”
Even when I was only a few months from my wedding, Dre was still Dre. I guessed that was why I revered him and was repulsed by him at the same time. Without another word, he shrugged and walked back into the crowd.
I’d almost made it into the kitchen when another shouting voice reawakened the darkest memories from my past. I closed my eyes and hoped that it was just coincidence, but it wasn’t. Out of all the people Dre chose to invite, she shouldn’t have ever been allowed to step through the door—number 6.
I accidentally dropped the glass of champagne as she approached me.
“Hey Big Daddy, why are you so hard to catch up with nowadays?” She reached out her arms to embrace me, but I instinctively withdrew, bumping into an older gentleman and spilling his eggnog onto the floor. I excused myself, but the man shrugged his shoulders and continued dancing. She shook her head at my recoil.
“I see you’re still a little bitter.”
I was so angry that I began to shake. “Don’t touch me.”
Her name was Leslie Watson and though she was still one of the finest women I’d ever met, she was also one of the worst mistakes I’d ever made. The problem was that her beauty came with a price. She was a sociopath.
I’d met Leslie five years ago when I first began working for Expedited Package Deliveries, EPD. She’d already been there a year and for my first ten months, we worked together. Our days were professional, but during our nights, the sex was as mind-blowing as any I’d ever had. It wasn’t until she wanted a monogamous relationship that things suddenly went sour. At first, she began throwing public tantrums at the job, but after I ended our arrangement, she became more deceitful.
During the first few months after our falling out, she sent me daily texts messages proclaiming her love and how I’d inevitably ‘come around’. When I blocked her number, she began calling my apartment and leaving disturbing messages. From pregnancy to claiming that I gave her Herpes, there wasn’t a lie she was afraid to tell. After losing her job and with me finally filing a restraining order, my car became the victim of her wrath. A week later, I found my car on fire.
Instead of jail time, she was ordered to complete therapy sessions and to pay restitution. The last time I saw her was a month before I met Lae and to avoid her altogether, I moved in with Dre to escape the whole ordeal. I was finally off of her radar.
Now, she knew where Dre stayed and since Dre had already known what I’d been through with Leslie, only God could help him if he’d actually invited her.
“Quinton, what’s with the hostility? Perhaps I’ve done some things in the past that I was ashamed of, but I had no idea Andre stayed here. I was invited to a party by one of the ladies in my anger management group and here I am. I’ve learned to let things go. Tonight, I just happened to see someone from my past who I’ve wronged and I wanted to apologize. I don’t see anything wrong with that. I certainly don’t see why I can’t even get a hug after not having seen you for the last few years.”
I grabbed her arm and without much resistance, pulled her to a corner of the room where I was sure that Lae wouldn’t see us speaking.
“What the hell do you want, Leslie? Why the hell are you even here? The restraining order said five hundred feet at all times and you can’t get any more specific than that. What the fuck do you want now? Do you want to set fire to me in person or wasn’t my car good enough?”
“Quinton,” she sighed, “I didn’t come here to fight. I honestly didn’t even know you were going to be here, but here we are. It’s like fate.”
“Get the hell away from me,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I’ve already apologized and I really am sorry for those crazy things I did back then.” Again she tried to wrap her arms around me and again I backed away from her. “Maybe one day you can forgive me and perhaps we can continue where we left off.”
“Left off? What the fuck is wrong with you? Leslie, setting my car on fire was the last straw. I don’t ever want to see you, I certainly don’t want to fuck you and if I can help it, I don’t even want to inhale the same air that you’re breathing. There is no goddamn us and there never will be! If you came here with your friends like you said you did, then stay with them and get the hell away from me. In fact, don’t even acknowledge my existence.”
“It’s not always about you, Quinton. God, I forgot how self-absorbed you can be. I’m here to have fun, just like everyone else and if you don’t believe that, maybe I’m not the only one who has to deal with anger issues.”
I stormed away from her. The forty months that had passed since the last time I’d seen Leslie had done nothing to curb the malice I’d retained for her.
I can’t believe her crazy ass is here! I went looking for Dre, still pissed from what I’d believed was outright betrayal, when I almost knocked Teniyah over as I quickly passed through the kitchen.
Wearing barely enough blouse to cover both breasts and jeans that accentuated her curvaceous frame, she turned around to see who had interrupted her conversation with Laela.
“Excuse you,” she said with a little agitation.
“Sorry,” I began, “I didn’t see you there.”
“How could you not see a six foot tall, mind-blowingly fine and carnally adventurous, black woman in a sea of white folks? Clearly Quinton, you wanted a free feel of all of the lusciousness. It’s okay to let it out. Talking about your lust for me can be therapeutic.” That was typical Teniyah—always the center of attention.
“Niya, if I really wanted you, asking is the last thing I’d have to do.” Lae let out a quick laugh. I looked at the ring I’d given her just a few weeks ago, which helped to ease the tension I was feeling.
Teniyah eyed Lae and mouthed “traitor” before she smiled at me and continued whatever conversation she and Lae were having.
“So then this little ass man proceeds to tell me that he can do everything for me that my husband can’t do,” Teniyah said, raising her eyebrow. I walked by her to pour myself a glass of champagne.
“You’re talking about the guy that just left?!?” Lae asked incredulously. “That guy already has a girlfriend! His name is BJ and in fact, doesn’t he work with you, Quinton?” She turned around in her chair and smiled at me.
I took a sip from my glass and shrugged my shoulders. BJ was a co-worker of mine and I wasn’t about to get anyone in trouble tonight.
They continued with their conversation. “I saw him walking around like he’d just lost his puppy. What did you say to him, Niya, to make him look so sad?”
“Sad is right. That brother was as sad as they come. After he ran off his lines, I stood up and let him stare at my assets for a quick second—you know, let him lick his chops. I raised my hand just above my head and let him know that to ride this ride—he has to be this tall.” Teniyah said while laughing.
Lae joined in with her, and I smiled just a bit. I liked BJ. Like Leslie, we all worked at the same job, but unlike Leslie, BJ was still employed there. Besides, I’d met BJ’s girlfriend and though she wasn’t anything to get excited about, even I knew that with Teniyah, he was way over his head and certainly out of his league.
I took a gulp from my glass, nearly finishing it and kissed Lae on her forehead. “So is that all you guys have been doing all night? Talking about the dominant sex?”
“Only dominant thing on y’all is body odor,” Niya mumbled under her breath.
“And no matter how much you want to deny it, you love some good dick.”
“Ok now, children! I don’t want to have to send you two to your corners again.” Lae eagerly interjected.
We joked a lot with each other and even though she was too stubborn to admit it, I knew Teniyah liked it. The only reason we pretended to fight was simply for Lae’s benefit—and her attention. So, rather than just get along, we constantly bickered about the most meaningless things. I liked it that way, too. It gave us something to do.
“That’s okay, Lae, I feel like dancing anyway.” Niya stood up and stretched her arms. As soon as she began bringing her arms back to her side, a drunken party-goer bumped into her and continued through the crowd as if nothing happened. “So what am I, invisible?” She shouted and shook her head.
“Speaking of invisible, where is Franklin?” I asked.
“He’s probably learning how to dance from some drunk fool. I think he may be the only black person I’ve met without rhythm. In fact, most things that need rhythm don’t suit him.” She winked at Lae, but even I knew what she’d been suggesting by that. She grabbed the champagne glass from my hand and finished it off before pouring herself another glass from the bottle on the table. After winking at me, she disappeared in the direction of the loud, thumping music.
When she was gone, Lae shook her head. “She’s such a flirt.”
“You noticed that,” I added sarcastically.
“I also noticed how you were staring at me the whole night. Is there something you wanted?”
Just as I was about to speak, the voice had found its way back to me.
“Well Quinton, who is this lovely lady that has captured all of your attention?”
I turned around to face her, but before I had a chance to speak, Lae extended her hand and introduced herself. “My name’s Laela. Quinton is my fiancé.”
“So, you’re his fiancée?” she asked, and then looked at me with genuine surprise. “I guess a leopard can change its spots.”
“Go away, Leslie.” I said, with my teeth now grinding.
“I never even knew about your engagement! Why can’t I meet your beautiful fiancée? After talking to some people here, it seems to me that she’s the only woman on the planet who could humble the untamable Quinton James?”
“You know, Leslie, I’m not seeing five hundred feet between us. That is what the court order demanded, right?”
She walked around me and straight to Laela. “You better be careful with this one, he’s a beast—especially in the bed.”
“I know. It’s a shame you realized that after you lost him.”
After looking at Laela up and down, she walked away without another word.
“So, I take it that she was one of your cutty-buddies?” Lae asked, nonchalantly. “I can see why I’ve never heard of her.”
“I never wanted to even think about her again. She was committed for a while after setting fire to my car.”
“So are there anymore crazy, dick-whipped women I have to worry about? I don’t want to have to be this nice the whole night.”
I laughed loudly enough for her to show a smile.
After an hour of dancing to every Christmas song I’d ever heard, I left Lae with Niya and found Dre. He’d found time to change from the dark suit he’d been wearing into some khakis and a tan sweater with mistletoe attached to the collar. He was sitting on his loveseat, sipping on a glass of champagne with a white lady I knew to be his neighbor. As soon as he saw the look on my face, he excused himself and walked with me away from the party.
“You brought crazy ass Leslie here and she confronted me in front of Lae!”
“I saw her, but I didn’t invite her. She came with someone I knew. It’s a sad case of a friend who knew a friend who brought her crazy ass. That’s it. There’s no conspiracy here, man.”
“So where is she now?”
“She’s getting smoked out with my friend and some other friends. Perhaps a little weed in her system may mellow her down.”
“You need to kick her ass out! I mean like yesterday! Both her and your friend!”
“Whoa, no can do. She’s not burnin’ up any of my shit up and this party is for business connections. How good would I look if I just started kicking people out who hadn’t done anything wrong? Look man, truth is I really want her friend’s draws and if I kick her out they all leave. The way I see it, if I do it your way, it ends badly for me. So I let them get a little high, pacify her for the time being and perhaps I can get a ‘job well done’ screw.”
It was my turn to shake my head. “You know what, your damn happy stick is gonna get the both of us in trouble one day.”
“As long as it’s not today, I can live with that. Speaking of trouble, there’s something I gotta do.” He dashed down his spiral staircase and into the dancing crowd downstairs.
I walked over to the loveseat and finally sat down, after hours of smiling and drinking all night. I closed my eyes and relaxed, allowing the champagne that I’d been sipping take its effect. I almost completely drowned out the sounds of the party when the hoots and hollers of the crowd downstairs grabbed my attention.
I looked over the balcony to see that everyone had encircled three people. One of them was Dre, who had taken the mistletoe he’d been wearing earlier and dangled it above two women, a short blond and a brunette. Both girls were extraordinarily beautiful, young and voluptuous, which is why I knew Dre had sought them out. They looked around the room at all the attention they had gathered, and smiled sheepishly at each other as Dre revealed a mischievous grin of his own.
“Ladies, this is mistletoe.” Dre displayed the mistletoe for everyone to see. “And tradition dictates that if you are at my ‘Happy Merry’ and also under this mistletoe, you have to kiss with anyone else under it.” Dre once again donned his patented smile and again catcalls reverberated throughout the room. The girls, aware of what was about to happen, turned their looks of awe from each other to the ringleader.
“I, the mistletoe god of Happy Merry, deem you ladies mistletoed. You may begin the kissing at your leisure.”
The crowd again roared into screams and hollers as the girls leaned towards each other. As if on cue, the entire room grew silent as the lips of two beautiful women approached each other. We were all on the precipice of an explosion, but as the girls lips touched, both pulled back, essentially sucking the air from the entire room.
As quickly as the catcalls had filled the room, boos from all around the room now angrily replaced them, causing both girls to disappear into a different section of the crowd.
“Is there anyone else willing to entertain the masses?” Dre looked around the room, but only one other person raised his hand.
“Only if it’s me and you, man!” BJ shouted.
Dre turned back towards the crowd and before he had a chance to speak, he found another hand had risen. It was Teniyah’s, but the person she was pulling through the crowd wasn’t Franklin, it was Laela.
“Now that’s the shit I’m talking about!” Dre shouted excitedly. He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow, then at the girls as they approached him. Life had once again been brought back into the room as the cheering began and everyone moved to allow both women quicker passage.
Once they made it to the foyer where I’d been earlier, Lae looked as mortified as I’d ever seen her, but Teniyah reveled at the attention. She was already as tall as Dre, so she continued to raise her arms, getting the crowd even more excited in anticipation of what we were about to see.
“Since I know the both of these women, I don’t need a speech. I’ll just hold the mistletoe up here and let you girls do whatever the mistletoe compels you to do.”
As Niya leaned over and Lae’s eyes closed, I thought about yelling out to Lae, but even I wasn’t sure if I was to support her or detract her. So instead, I remained quiet and watched. As soon as their lips touched, my immediate erection ruled out any idea of stopping them.
Niya reached her arms around Lae, grabbing her by the waist and pressed their bodies against each other. It wasn’t automatic, but while their mouths discovered a common rhythm, I watched as Lae grew increasingly more relaxed. Not long after the initial kiss, Lae conceded to Niya’s tongue and the room watched in unadulterated delight as it finally invaded Lae’s mouth. Not yet ready to relinquish the attention she was receiving, Niya slowly withdrew, sucking on Lae’s lip as she pulled away.
After Lae finally opened her eyes, the room erupted in cheers. Shouting over the deafening crowd, Dre repeated several times, “That shit was hot! Somebody please tell me that wasn’t the hottest shit ever! Holy shit, I think I just exploded in my pants!”
As the crowd helped Niya cheer herself on and a breathless Lae waved to the crowd, for the first time that night, Dre and I were in complete agreement.
That shit was hot.
“So what made you go up there with her?” I asked.
I was dead tired when we had finally made it to our apartment on the southwest side of Houston. Instead of jumping in the shower to wash off all the stale, smoke smell I had accumulated, I threw off my shirt and slacks, leaving only my boxers on before I jumped in the bed. Lae insisted on washing up, wearing a long t-shirt with a picture of a pony on the front as she exited the bathroom.
“I didn’t want to go, but she just pulled me up there. I thought she was joking about doing it until I could feel her breath inches from my face.”
I knew it was on her mind because I couldn’t forget about it. “So what made you kiss her back?”
Lae thought for a second and smiled. “I have to get some practice from somewhere, right?” She laughed, I smiled. “Besides, if she would’ve dragged you up there, what would you have done in front of all those people?”
“I wouldn’t have kissed her in front of Franklin, besides, she’s married. What would you think of me after I just made out with a married woman?”
She threw one of the pillows from our bed at me, hitting me in the back. “Quinton James, don’t you dare sit on this bed a lie to me. If we’re supposed to be so open, then why can’t you just admit that you would’ve kissed her too?”
“You know me, Lae, kissing is intimate. I gotta at least like you to kiss you.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you’d sleep with Niya—if she wasn’t married, but you wouldn’t ever kiss her?”
“Her lips would be the only dry thing on her body.” This time she slapped me on my bare back. “Damn, that hurt! Don’t make me call the abuse hotline on you.”
“And men say that women have their priorities messed up?! You are the only man I know who wouldn’t sell his nuts for a crack at Niya. Are you saying this just to pacify me?”
“Pacify you? My girl just locked lips with another girl and I’m trying to pacify you?”
“Are you upset with me?”
“Was she a good kisser?”
“What you’re really asking is, is she a better kisser than you.”
“And?”
“You don’t have anything to worry about. You have her beat by light years and I’ll prove it to you.”
“What did kissing her feel like?”
She pulled her stethoscope from off the nightstand and placed it around her neck. “I guess it’s like kissing a man without a moustache, but her tongue was so forceful! For a few seconds, I thought hers was about to body slam mine and take it as a trophy.”
I laughed at the thought of Niya’s tongue beating up on mine, yet I felt a little uneasy. I lied to Lae, but I knew her well enough not to fall prey to a question about Niya. Dre was right about Teniyah, she was too sexy and way to out there for her own damn good. Problem was that if given the chance, I would’ve probably done it too.
I thought about the kiss the two shared as I allowed Laela to straddle me. Even with my boxers on, I could feel the heat coming from under her shirt and once again my erection returned. With her stethoscope hanging from around her neck, she pressed the cold metal on my naked chest before switching sides and listening to my heart.
“Why Mrs. James, did you find what you were looking for?” I asked softly.
“Mrs. James, you say? Since we’re not married yet, perhaps we shouldn’t be doing this.” She revealed the same devilish smile that I’d grown to love.
I softly brushed my lips against hers. “I won’t tell if you don’t and for the record, I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”
“Me either.” She slid her stethoscope into my boxers. “Mr. James, I’d like to hear the sounds an erection makes.”
“I could tell you the sound a certain nurse makes when she gets too close.”
I rolled over, causing her to fall onto the bed. I quickly mounted her and ran my hands along her thighs. When I reached the bottom of her t-shirt, I pulled it up, revealing her neatly trimmed temple and the real reason she’d gone into the bathroom. I bent over and kissed her steeple several times, allowing several verbs to escape her mouth. Not stopping there, I pulled her shirt above her breasts and softly bit the tips before taking her nipples into my mouth.
“Going north tonight?” she whispered.
“Shhh, I’m working.”
I sat her up and pulled her shirt over her head, softly kissing her. I slowly invaded her mouth with my tongue and soon after, tasting her lips and those of the last person who’d been there. Cherry. She’d worn cherry lip gloss when she’d kissed Laela and now her taste was on my tongue as well.
She dragged her fingernails down my back as we kissed, causing me to pause and deeply inhale. With her hands still on my back, I placed my hand around her neck and pushed her back down to the bed. I ran my cherry flavored tongue around both sides of her neck before stopping, softly nibbling on her left ear.
She dug her fingers deeper into my flesh as more vowels were expelled. Her nipples now fully awakened, I returned to her breasts engulfing the right one in my mouth. I slid my hand down her stomach and parted her thighs. I quickly pulled my erection out from its hiding spot in my boxers and slowly rubbed it against her.
I wanted her so badly that my dick began to throb, but I wasn’t ready to enter her.
Not yet.
Even though I had the taste of two women on my tongue, it felt almost as if Niya were next to us and cheering us on. I shook the thought of her from my thoughts and returned my attention to my woman.
Moving from her right breast to her left one, gently sucking her breasts and teasing her nipples, I wrote Q-U-I-N-T-O-N as I dragged my tongue across her belly and worked my way back to where I’d began my journey.
I knelt before her temple, softly kissing her thighs and began skating across her clitoris with my tongue. Using the figure eight as my inspiration and the infinity symbol as my finale, I tasted every inch of the woman I loved. She responded immediately with grateful groans and as her steeple grew in size, her innocently wandering hands quickly became fists that bludgeoned our sheets. Not long after cursing me, I finally tasted her sweetness.
I alternated between my eights and infinities for a few moments afterwards—until she pushed me away. I fought her, trying to work my way back in between her thighs, but she was adamant. She pulled me close to her and hungrily kissed me. It was filled with such passion that I had no doubt that she’d sampled what I had just savored.
I pulled away from her and with my dick begging for attention, I flipped Lae over and as she lay naked and winded, I slowly entered her from behind. She was warm—so warm that I had to quickly retreat. As I eased in and filled her once more, I pushed her untamed hair to the side and kissed her neck. Then, between her shoulder blades, I finished my autograph. I wrote J-A-M-E-S along her spine as our bodies began the ritual of grinding.
Like always, we made a masterpiece. She was my canvas and with each broad brushstroke, my painting neared completion. I reached under her, cupped her breasts a pushed deeper into her. Amid her masochistic whispers, she urged me to climax for her and soon after, with her.
I softly called to her as I always did before I climaxed and as her warmth overtook me, I went deep one last time before I exploded. The force of my climax was so fierce that for a few seconds afterwards, I’d forgotten to inhale, causing me to fall off of her.
As I lay next to my fiancée, her face resting on my chest and her wild hair tickling my nose, not a single word was spoken. Words weren’t ever needed. With heavy eyelids, darkness began to envelope me and only one thought remained.
Damn, that kiss was hot.
Chapter 2
Laela
December 31st (Saturday)
The sun had barely met the horizon and I saw him getting ready for work. I didn’t want him to go, especially after the shiver down my spine reminded me of last night.
I listened to him complain about being late before he rushed out of the front door, forgetting to kiss me on his way out. I should’ve been upset, but I was on cloud nine. I’d had multiple orgasms last night and I was still feeling the lingering affects even after I’d gotten some sleep. I staggered from the front door to the bathroom, turned on the shower and let the steam fill the room before I took off my housecoat and stepped in.
I closed my eyes and let the water run down my face. I found myself thinking a great deal about the kiss that Niya and I shared. I couldn’t believe that I’d actually gone through with it. As much as I wanted to pass it off as just Niya being Niya, I really enjoyed it—more than I knew I should have. As a small smile crept across my face, I suddenly remembered meeting Leslie. Though I hadn’t told Quinton and passed Leslie’s words off as indifference, it was a façade. I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but the truth was that she got under my skin.
Admittedly, she was a little off in the mental department, but why hadn’t he said anything about her? The added fact that we’d shared a man didn’t help with the uneasiness that began to grow from the pit of my stomach.
I’m thinking way too much. A kiss is just a kiss and an ex is still and ex.
I showered for ten minutes before I stepped out, wiped the mist off the glass and sized myself up in the mirror. After remembering how perfect Leslie looked in her skin tight dress, I began to examine how far I’d fallen off the wagon since I’d been in a serious relationship. My butterscotch complexion was a complete contrast to my dark eyes and hair, but I still had my mother’s figure; two handfuls of breasts, small hips, and a round ass. I wasn’t chubby, but I’d been out of the gym for a while and I was starting to lose my definition. Solid is what brings them, solid is what was going to keep him. I patted on my stomach and smacked my ass for good measure. I walked into our bedroom and threw on my royal blue scrubs. I was hoping to leave out a little earlier than normal to avoid the awful Houston traffic, which would most certainly put a damper on my easy-going mood.
I grabbed my stethoscope, which was surprisingly still warm and I smiled as I thought about last night.
I’m certainly going to have to sterilize you when I get to work.
I grabbed my keys off the coffee table and began to walk out the door when the phone rang. I thought about answering it, but not at the risk of enduring even worse traffic than I was already about to run into. I glanced at the caller ID to see that it was Simone. I grabbed my purse and reminded myself to call her on my cell on the way to work.
I pulled out of the parking lot onto the street and turned right, driving my new gold Honda Accord and feeling like a new woman. After about ten minutes of driving south on Highway 6, I jumped on 59 North before I dialed up Simone.
“Girl, I just called you.” She sounded busy. Ever since she’d married the anti-man, she always sounded rushed, which was due to his lazy ass not helping her out with even the most minor tasks.
“It’s Saturday, Monie, why do you sound like it’s a weekday?”
“I’m cleaning up around the house.”
“And where is Michael? In case you hadn’t known, he’s your husband and most rumors suggest that it’s his house, too.” Her husband Michael was one of Quinton’s closest friends, though I was in the minority when I told everyone how much of a piece of shit I believed him to be. Simone, on the other hand, was one of my best friends who I’d met in high school. I loved her like a sister and she knew how disappointed I was in some of the choices she made, especially when it came to her rushed marriage to Michael—whom I’ve always suspected of cheating. I’ve told her several times about my suspicions, but she always shrugged it off by telling me that there wasn’t any proof and a good woman always stands by her man.
“Can we please not do this today, Lae?”
“Fine.” I said, a little more agitated than I should have. Between Simone’s husband and Quinton’s ex, I was a bit snappier than I should have been.
“Anyways,” she began, “even though you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, I just wanted to know what you and future hubby are doing for New Year’s.”
I thought for a second before answering. “We don’t have any plans that I know of. Why?”
“I don’t know, I just wanted to get out of the house and do something fun for the New Year.”
“We had fun. Remember last night? You were supposed to be at Dre’s Happy Merry party. Don’t give me any BS excuses about how you forgot because I reminded you yesterday morning.”
“I wanted to go, but we couldn’t find a baby-sitter,” she said unconvincingly.
“Is that just your way of saying that the all important Michael Hall got his way-- again?”
“Look Lae, I didn’t call you so that I could be nagged to death about my husband’s faults. I just wanted to see what you and Quinton were doing tonight.”
“So that’s a yes to the ‘got his way’ question?”
“I hate you.”
“I love you, too.” I laughed. “So what did you have in mind for New Year’s?”
“Why don’t we all get a hotel room and just get drunk?”
“That’s the same thing you want to do every holiday. At some point you have to stop being so predictably spontaneous.”
I didn’t mind indulging Simone’s idea, but sometimes I’d catch glimpses of her mother in her. Seeing her developing a drinking problem took me back to those years when we walked home together. Because Simone’s apartment was on the way to my house we walked together every day. Usually we’d be laughing the whole way, but as soon as we stopped at her building, the laughs would end. Simone would smile sheepishly, then slowly open the front door and send me a quick wave before I continued on my way. Yet, the few times she had allowed me into their place, I could see why she didn’t want me there. The house was a complete pigsty and Simone’s mother was usually in one of two states. She was either drunk out of her mind, cursing Simone for not having the house spotless or high as a kite and sprawled out on the floor of their apartment. After only a few months of even knowing Simone, I was there to support her after her mother died from an overdose.
I never saw Simone as far gone as her mother, but as soon as she and Michael began having problems, Simone began to disappear more often and her drinking was noticeably heavier. I knew it wasn’t my place, but I knew what she’d been through. The truth was that she didn’t have anyone else in her corner besides her aunt, whom she despised, so I constantly reminded her of what life would be like for her son, MJ, to grow up without a mother.
I didn’t want to always play mother hen with Simone and the role was beginning to wear on me, but she was still my friend and friends were supposed to look out for each other.
“It’s New Year’s!” She exclaimed. “You don’t have to be prudes all the time!”
“I’m not a fish, but somebody has to keep you from gettin’ pissy drunk, right?”
“Look, Lae, I need to get out of the house. I need to do something. I’m going crazy and I think Mike has some other plans. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I hear him on the phone talking with his boys, telling them that he doesn’t have anything to do yet. I would at least like to bring in this year with him. At least if Q is gonna be there, he’ll come.”
“I hear you. I’ll talk to Quinton and see what he wants to do.” I knew that I hadn’t spent much time with Simone lately, but between Quinton, the job and the wedding, I usually didn’t have much time for anything else.
“Thanks girl.” She sounded genuinely appreciative.
After we hung up, I searched for my 90’s R&B CD. There were a few songs that mellowed me out before work and with a full moon out last night, I was probably going to need it. I popped it in and listened to it for the rest of my morning commute.
I pulled into the Harris County Regional Medical Center around fifteen minutes before my shift began, which was exactly the amount of time I needed to park, walk to the floor, and punch in. Since the garage was right across the street and the labor hall was on the second floor of a seven story building, I didn’t have much traveling to do, but I found myself yearning for the breakfast I’d intentionally skipped—all thanks to Leslie and Teniyah.
Damn them and their Coke bottle figures!
When the elevator doors opened to my floor, it appeared as if a bomb had just gone off. The phones behind the nurse’s desk were constantly being lit up by physicians who were calling in for reports on their laboring patients, nurses were running around with charts in hand, monitors were beeping out of control and even a few patients were walking up and down the halls, complaining of their unbearable pains. I hated working at a county hospital, but I loved being a labor and delivery nurse. The only thing I loved more than the job was the pay.
I walked past the morning commotion and on my way to the lounge to grab some coffee, bumped into our morning charge nurse, Pat McMahon, on the way to the time clock.
“Put your game face on, Lae.” She said. “It is definitely gonna be one of those mornings.”
I clocked in, received report from the night shift, and prepared for the onslaught.
After the morning rush trickled into the early afternoon, there wasn’t much left to do. I walked down to the nurses’ lounge, a room which could barely even been considering a place to lounge to catch a few minutes of rest. With just an old couch, an unusable refrigerator, a television set whose color was slowly fading, and a plastic table with only one available chair, the term lounge was used very loosely for a place where old paint was chipping from the walls.
Still, I could hardly wait to flop down on my most favorite sofa in the world, a furry blue couch we affectionately named ‘Cookie’. One of the nurses had named it after the big blue monster that used to be on our favorite childhood show and since no one took offense, the name stuck. My body was already longing for its soft cushions and I still had four more hours left in my day.
It was there that I found Niya, already occupying most of Cookie and watching some talk show whose topic was paternity tests. I hadn’t seen her all morning, so I suspected that she had been hiding. With only one laboring patient, she’d gotten off easy, especially seeing as I was stuck with triple the workload. One of them was a nurse’s worst nightmare—a whining black woman, in her early twenties, who wasn’t even laboring, but cried about every single labor pain. She wasn’t anywhere near giving birth, and complained of cramping that never seemed to stay in one place. On more than one occasion I was prepared to throttle her.
Teniyah kept her legs up and laid them across the cushions, daring me to move them. My body ached so badly that I was ready to face her wrath when I pushed them over the edge and sat down.
“You know something? You’re so lucky that you’re my girl,” she warned, “or there would have been some serious drama. Still, with all that work you had to do, I didn‘t feel like whooping your ass so late in the day.” She half-smiled as I raised my eyebrow towards her.
Teniyah had such a sensual voice that she could just charm the pants off of any man she chose, but instead, she usually bullied people whenever they allowed her to. Quinton would joke about the both of us having the voices of phone sex operators, but she would have more men releasing themselves to the sound of hers. She was already a self-proclaimed professional in the art of men, but given the chance, I honestly think she’d try to get paid for sex if she could.
Because I knew her too well to take her threats seriously, I usually received a free pass, but her husband, Franklin wasn’t so lucky. On more than one occasion, I witnessed her belittling him in front of random people.
“You’re lucky that I don’t march straight to the desk and get Pat to give you one of my patients….” I smirked at her.
There was a lot of history between us during the eight years that I’d known Teniyah. We began our friendship in our second year in nursing school and been inseparable ever since. Back in college we were two of about a handful of black people going to the same nursing program so we clicked instantly. Only by chance did we end up in the same dorm room. She was supposed to live with her sorority, but through a mix-up the both of us roomed in the honor’s dorm. At first we were complete opposites and everything was awkward, but through our experiences together and as we grew to know each other, we became something more than friends. We were kindred spirits; or rather I lived my crazy side vicariously through her. I was able to tell her some things that I hadn’t told anyone before and she’d confess to me the kinky things going down at fraternity parties, always noting when she was the kinky thing. There wasn’t anything that we didn’t share with each other.
More often than not, when we were dating gorgeous frat men, they called us sisters even though we looked nothing alike. She was more mocha colored, a complete contrast to my lighter complexion, and she towered above me by at least six inches. Her eyes, with their almond shape and similar color, have lured many men in our direction. Even now, the wedding band she wore did nothing to deter their advances. Add in the fact she still had the figure of a high school cheerleader, despite giving birth to my two twin godchildren, DeShawn and Brianna—five years old, and she was damn near perfect.
I still believe that the only thing that stopped her from marrying some exotic millionaire was she’d gotten pregnant in the last year of school and ended up marrying the man she suspected was the babies’ father; but even I knew she did it more out of obligation than love. He loved her, but I still think she wasn’t ready to marry and in the end, she’d settled.
Though Niya was my other best friend, she and Simone couldn’t be more opposite, which is probably why they didn’t get along. Teniyah’s always been aggressive, confident, even demanding at times. Both Simone and I have always been laid back, moderately stubborn and a little more inhibited than most. It was amazing how little Niya cared for her even though Simone and I were a lot alike.
“Sticks and stones, Lae. Besides, you know what hard work does to me!”
“It makes you lazier?”
“So now you know why I can’t have more work. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, what did Quinton think about our kiss last night? Was he upset that I turned his woman out in one night?”
“He thinks you’re a mouth rapist.” I said, trying not to laugh.
She frowned. “Is that what he seriously thinks?”
“No. Well, not really. He actually thought that it was pretty—steamy. It just caught him off-guard that you would put the both of us in front of an audience.”
“So, what you’re saying is that like every other man in the room, he wanted some of this.” When she stuck out her long tongue and wriggled it around, I couldn’t help but laugh at her crazy ass. She joined in not long after.
“He didn’t exactly say that, but he was curious to know how much I enjoyed it.”
“And how could you not have? Am I not a kissing goddess?”
“It was—interesting. I hadn’t planned on my best friend slobbing me down in front of a crowd at my fiancé’s best friend’s house party.”
“It doesn’t have to end with last night Lae,” she whispered. “But you already knew that.”
I knew where this was heading and it was time to change the subject. “Why are you even watching this crap?”
She completely ignored my question and began her interrogation. “Lae, have you even thought about the thing we talked about?”