All Up In My Business (16 page)

James Bronson walked over and sat in the chair next to Adam, the friend-turned-patient whom he’d known for over twenty years. Bronson looked older than his fifty-seven years, largely due to his near-white hair and premature wrinkles. His ruddy, freckled face, a nod to his half-Indian heritage, was a mask of calm as he turned and faced Adam. “Well, friend, there’s no easy way to tell you this. You’ve got gonorrhea.”

“I’ve got what? Man, you’re bullshittin’ me.”

“No, ran the tests myself, keeping it confidential, like you asked.”

“Well, you need to run them again, because there’s no way I’ve got the clap!”

Doctor Bronson ignored Adam’s outburst. “You need to speak with … whomever you’re sleeping with,” he continued calmly. “Have them get checked out as well so they can be treated. The sooner the better, Adam. This disease isn’t anything to play around with.”

“Are you listening to me, James? I’ve been faithful to Candace
since the day we married, man. Now I’m telling you, there’s no way in the world I’ve got that shit.”

“And I’m telling you that these results don’t lie. And gonorrhea doesn’t just happen out of nowhere.” Doctor Bronson said nothing further but stared at Adam with unblinking gray eyes.

Adam stared back. Realization dawned. “Wait. You don’t mean to say …” Adam stood and began pacing again. He stopped at the window, looking without seeing the colorful oak leaves on the tree just beyond him, and then turned back around. “Are you trying to say what I think you’re trying to say? That Candace is cheating on me?”

“Brother, as your doctor, I can only tell you the results of these tests. For any other information, you’ll need to ask your wife.”

“Q, please,” Candace panted, ignoring the sweat that rolled off her naked body. “It feels so … it feels …” Her brain too dis-combobulated to put together a complete sentence, she gave up trying. “Mmm.”

“Whose pussy is this, huh?” Q lifted his face from where it had been wedged between Candace’s legs. Instead of waiting for an answer, he dipped down and used his tongue as a sword, spearing the flesh between her nether folds and swirling her nub with a fencer’s precision. His head was buried so deep that anyone watching would have wondered how he breathed, since his nose seemed to be immersed as deep as his tongue. “Who does this belong to? Huh?” he asked again when he finally came up for air.

Candace whimpered, incapable of saying anything more. Q spread her lips as wide as they could go and then dove into her paradise. He made deep, purring sounds, lapping, nibbling, sucking, and then lapping some more. Candace’s legs began shaking violently as an intense orgasm seemed to erupt from her very core. She moaned against the sweatshirt she’d
stuck in her mouth moments before, knowing if she didn’t her screams would reverberate off of the gym’s front door.

But Q wasn’t finished. Before she could catch her breath, he flipped her legs to the side, moved behind her and plunged his nine-inch sword into her still-quivering heat. Candace didn’t think it possible, didn’t think she had any more energy, but within seconds she was writhing against him, encouraging him to go faster, deeper.

“Uh-huh, you love this big dick, don’tcha? Don’tcha?” Q placed his hand under Candace’s knee and lifted her leg higher. They were positioned on a long, padded bench in Q’s private office. Candace had one foot on the floor and one on the bench while Q, with one knee on the bench as well, effortlessly supported the rest of her weight. The office door was locked, and his phone had been forwarded to voice mail. As always, Candace had been booked for a ninety-minute session. The first sixty minutes had happened out on the gym floor. Now, Q was finishing her workout. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna be able to push these buttons like I do, baby,” he murmured as he spread her cheeks wide and continued his assault with one hand while cupping her breasts with the other. “That’s why you’re gonna keep coming back to me.”

He motioned Candace to lie on the bench, positioned himself on top of her, and proceeded to pummel her with his juicy, thick dick. Candace moaned louder and louder until Q placed a hand over her mouth. “I know you wanna scream, Candy, but you gotta squash that shit.”

“I’m trying to but …” Candace panted between thrusts.

“But it’s good, right?”

“Uh-huh. Feels … so … good …”

“How about this?” Q’s motion went from in and out to side to side.

“Ooh …”

Q grabbed her hips and pumped harder, faster.

“Yes, yes!” Again, Candace’s orgasm was intense. She began to cry from the pleasure.

“Ooh, yeah, cry over this good dick, girl.” Q slowed down, pulled out to the tip, plunged in, and repeated.

“Oh, baby, there are no words …”

“We ain’t through. I’m just getting started.”

“I can’t, baby. I’ve got to go.”

“I want some more of this.” Q’s stamina was legendary, his sexual prowess hard to refuse.

Candace complied when he lifted her to a kneeling position, straddled the bench, and plunged right in. Soon she was mewling once again, in the throes of ecstasy.

After another twenty minutes, Q neared his peak. “You want me to come for you, baby?”

“Yes, oh yes!” Candace didn’t even want to think about what time it was.

“You want me to come inside you?”

Oh, hell no!
Even though Q was wearing a condom and Candace felt she was practically through menopause, the thought of anyone but Adam releasing inside her almost made her go dry. “Pull out, baby,” she said at last. “Come for me.”

She took a hot shower. Candace’s legs were still a bit wobbly as she walked to her car. Q was always good, but today he’d been exceptional. He’d sexed her hard and long, just the way she liked it.
If only Adam had his stamina and size
. Candace felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. Adam was a caring husband. He loved her the best way he could and didn’t deserve her unfaithfulness. “I’ve got to end this,” she muttered.
And I’ll end it … just not today
.

Once buckled up inside the car, Candace fired up her phone. There were several missed calls, including one from Adam.
I’ll see what he wants when I get home
. She put on her headset, tapped Diane’s name on her cell phone, and pulled out of the parking lot as Diane answered.

“Where are you?” Diane said. “All of the women are here, and we’re ready to begin.”

“I’m on my way,” Candace said, searching her mind for a lie that might work, hoping she wouldn’t need it.

“What held you up?”

Q’s nine-inch pole
. “Traffic. There was an accident. I’m only about ten minutes away and—Ow!”

“What’s wrong? “Uh, it’s nothing.”

“Let me get off the phone so you can pay attention to the road. Hurry and get over here but drive safely.”

Candace disconnected the call and gripped the wheel. She tried to dismiss what she felt, but, no, there it was again—an intense itchy feeling inside her vagina. Candace squirmed, adjusted her pants, and tried to quell the feeling. She’d meant to go to her doctor, get an antibiotic for the yeast infection but … “Oh, shit!” Candace swerved, almost hitting the car in the next lane.

Last night, she’d thought nothing of it, but now it all made sense—Adam’s burning, her itching, the discharge she’d assumed was from a yeast infection.
Maybe this isn’t a yeast infection at all. Maybe it’s
…. “Calm down, Candace,” she said aloud. “You always use condoms with Q.”
Except for that one time, remember?
Candace’s hand flew to her mouth.
Oh, no, could it be?
“No, it couldn’t be that. Please don’t let it be that.”

Candace tried to calm her nerves as she turned onto her sister-in-law’s street. She always praised Q on how he gave her good loving. Now she was praying that he hadn’t given her something else.

29

A
dam pulled into the circular drive of their Victorian mansion, noted the immaculately landscaped lawn around him and Candace’s Mercedes parked directly ahead. He viewed these trappings of the good life dispassionately, as a myriad of thoughts whirled in his mind. He’d been conflicted since leaving the doctor’s office: anger, hurt, puzzlement warring for dominance. As with every challenge in his life, Adam decided to face this one head-on. He reached for the car door handle with a sure hand, gathered his briefcase with the other, and walked resolutely to the front door.

Candace’s heart began to pound rapidly when she heard the sounds of Adam’s hard-soled shoes clicking against the foyer’s marble floor. She’d rushed home after the meeting at Diane’s house and had been both surprised and relieved that Adam wasn’t there. She’d gone straight to the kitchen, relieved the cook, and started cooking. She’d chosen a sweet and spicy coating for the fried chicken this time, and along with navy beans, homemade coleslaw, and jalapeño corn bread, she had put together another Livingston favorite—a deep-dish apple cobbler.

She cocked her head to the side, listening for Adam’s footsteps. Noting the silence, Candace reasoned that he’d either
gone up the stairs or into the den, both carpeted areas of their home.
Should I call out to him? Maybe fix him a drink?
Candace didn’t know what to do—whether to be proactive and go to him or feign ignorance of anything wrong and stay in the kitchen. She decided on the latter, opening the oven door and checking the food.

Her round ass bent over was the first thing Adam saw as he turned the corner. Unwanted thoughts flooded his mind as he noted its large plumpness, prominently displayed in a pair of fitted stretch pants.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked calmly from just inside the room. Just like that. Straight, no chaser. No greeting or preamble needed, and none given.

Candace whirled around. “Oh, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.” She took a step toward Adam, noted the scowl on his face and the tightness around his lips, and knew right then and there that the dinner she’d meticulously prepared would go uneaten. “What’s wrong?” It was not the question she’d planned to ask but one that came out of its own accord.

“That’s what I’m here to ask you, Candace. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Or is there something you want to tell me?” These last words were delivered even lower and more calmly than the first, as Adam walked into the room toward his wife.

Candace took a step back as her heart raced. She’d seen this demeanor from her husband before and knew what it meant—that he was highly upset and working with great effort to not go smooth off. It was a mood not often seen. The last time she had seen him like this was when a businessman had swindled Adam out of over a hundred thousand dollars.

Uh-oh. How do I handle this? What should I say? Think, Candace!
She decided to play the ignorant card and not say more than she needed to, before she had to. “Adam, why are you upset? Did something happen at work?”

“No.” Adam stopped about a foot from Candace and put his hands on his hips. “Something happened after I left the office.
After I stopped by James’s office and had him check out that little problem I mentioned last night.” He stopped but continued when Candace said nothing. “Are you going to stand here and act like you don’t know anything? Because as mad as I am right now, woman, you’d do well to not make me drag shit out of you.” Adam clenched and unclenched his hands.

Candace’s eyes widened as she noted the gesture. She swallowed hard but remained silent.

“Oh, cat’s got your tongue now? Nothing to say for yourself?”

“Adam, I …” Candace reached out a hand toward him. Adam flinched away. “Who have you been fucking?!” he bellowed.

Candace reared back as if struck. She may as well have been. In all the years they’d been married, Candace had never heard Adam yell the way he just did. Adam had never laid a hand on her in a violent way, but the thought that he could flitted across her mind. She took a step back, and then another. “Adam, I don’t know—”

“Don’t lie to me, Can. Don’t fuck somebody behind my back and then stand here and lie to my face. If you’re going to break our marriage vows after three muthafuckin’ decades, the least you can do is be honest about it. Who. Are. You. Fucking?”

Candace stood staring at the man who’d won her heart over thirty years ago, the father of her children, the man with whom she wanted to grow old. Adam was right. He didn’t deserve what she’d done, or her lies. Adam deserved the truth. Candace bowed her head and spoke barely above a whisper.

“Q.”

“Who?” Adam asked, taking another step toward her.

“M-my personal trainer,” Candace stuttered as she took another step back and bumped up against the large island in the middle of the kitchen. “It was only one time,” she continued
in a rush. Technically, this was true. They’d only done it raw one time. “I didn’t mean to, Adam. I …”

“You didn’t mean to what, Candace? Cheat on me with some lowlife or give me the got-damn clap? Which one?”

Candace’s head shot up. “No!”

“You heard me. That diseased muthafucka you’re screwing is why my dick is itching and why it burns when I piss. You have
gonorrhea
, Can, and you passed it on to me!” Adam seared Candace with a scathing look, then whipped around and stormed out of the room.

“Adam, wait!” Candace began, hurrying behind him. “I can explain …”

“Don’t try and explain shit to me right now,” Adam said, quickly turning around to face her, his arm out to stop her progress. “And don’t come any closer, Candace. I mean it. I’ve passed up a boatload of pussy to stay faithful to you, and this is how you thank me? No. Don’t come to me and say another word. Matter of fact, you’d be wise to get your shit and get as far away from me as you can right now. Give me a chance to try and calm the fuck down. Because if I have to look at you a moment longer, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

30

M
alcolm’s invention was still on Toussaint’s mind as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands.
You pulled a fast one on us, brothah. Now I have to step up my game
. The Livingston family competitiveness was legendary, and Toussaint now felt even more pressure to succeed on the Food Network show. Which was one of the reasons he was in his kitchen on a Thursday night.