Big Girls Drama (14 page)

The rain finally stopped or at least reverted back to a drizzle. I stood in the bay window with my arms crossed, taking in the view of my neighbor's home and how green all of our lawns were. I wondered what each of our neighbors were doing. Were children playing? Were the families sitting around the table talking about the happenings of the day? Was laundry being tossed in the washing machine? Were any of the women as unhappy as I was in their marriage? Was anyone harboring secrets like I was?

The clatter of footsteps let me know Devin was coming up the stairs. Each step was slow but firm, like he was trying to keep his balance. I never looked back. I listened until I knew his measured steps brought him in eye view of me.

“What did you do to me?” he asked groggily.

I turned to see him holding the back of his head. His clothes were soaking wet, and his eyes were squinting like the light in the room was too bright for him to focus. I was surprised his ass didn't drown. After all, he did fall face-first.

“What are you talking about, Devin?” I asked as I walked over to the sofa and plopped down. I picked up the glass of wine I'd poured for myself and took a long sip. I never took my eyes off my husband as he looked bewildered at me.

“You hit me.”

I swallowed the sweet red wine before saying, “No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did,” he argued.

“Okay, I did. Now what?”

With widened eyes he tilted his head slightly at my nonchalant words. He was still unsteady on his feet, but the pained expression he gave me had little effect on me.

“You left me down there unconscious.”

“I sure did.”

“How did you know I wasn't dead?”

“I didn't,” I said frigidly.

“So you didn't care?”

“Not at that particular moment, no.”

“You really are a crazy—”

Expression dead serious, I said, “Watch your mouth, Devin. I hit you once. I can hit you again. Maybe this will teach you not to call me out of my name.”

I meant what I said. And I think he knew it too as my dark eyes bore into him. I'd dealt with a lot with Devin, and today was definitely not an exception. But I'd be damned if this man—or any man—was going to call me a bitch whenever he felt the need.

“As long as we've been together, Devin, you have never called me a bitch. And you are not going to start now. You can call me baby, Monica, sugar, sweetie, and even crazy. But you better not ever—as long as there is breath in your body—call me a bitch.”

We stared each other down. I meant what I said, and that knot on the back of his head let him know I was dead serious.

“Are there any other others I needed to stay clear of?” he asked.

“Cunt is another. Georgiana is another.”

Devin nodded and understood. This was a serious hiccup, and our marriage was in jeopardy, and she was the cause of it.

“I think you did this for what happened earlier today.”

“Maybe I did, in combination of you calling me what you called me. Either way, I feel empowered,” I replied, giving him a bitter smile. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have dinner to make.”

“Dinner?” Devin asked.

Springing to my feet, I said, “Yes. Dinner. Do you have a problem with that?”

“We are not done here,” he said, finally bringing his hands down by his side, rotating his head to loosen the soreness.

“The only thing we need to discuss is how we are going to work on saving our marriage. Is that what you want to talk about?” I asked.

“I asked you for a divorce, and after what you've done to me today, this further lets me know I'm making the right decision.”

“Oh, really?” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“Really,” he replied contemptuously. “People know who my heart really belongs to.”

I began to chuckle as my anger began to rise within. Did Devin realize he said
people?
Now,
people
were part of this equation. Now,
people
knew he wanted to divorce me to get back with his ex. I wondered if any of those
people
were part of the congregation his parents were trying to grow. Did any of them think
those
people would be happy with him making a decision to leave his wife for another woman? Better yet, he was cheating on his wife with another woman. Whether he'd put his hands on Georgiana or not, he'd been thinking about her. He had lustful thoughts plaguing his mind, not realizing it was the affliction infecting our marriage. Or maybe he just didn't care.

“Do you think I'm going to let this go down like this?” I asked him.

“You don't have a choice.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he said forebodingly.

He began to remove his soaked clothes right there in our living room. First, it was his shirt. Then, his tank, and next, it was his socks and pants, until he was standing in front of me with nothing but his boxer briefs on. I allowed my eyes to scan the perimeter of his body as my eyes concentrated on his numerous inches. As much as I wanted to hate this man, I loved him. I loved every inch of him.

Devin chuckled bitterly as he walked around the sofa and lowered himself onto it.

“My family is very powerful, Monica.”

“And?”

“And we have ways of getting what we want.”

“I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of a divorce. You made a promise to me. If you think I'm going to bow down and give you what you want so you can be with your little whore, you got another think coming.”

With his face hardened, Devin's voice was wicked and cold, like he had some type of ace up his sleeve. Telling me about his parents was not changing my mind. Believe you me, I'd been up against worse things.

“You will give me what I want . . . or else.”

“Is that a threat?” I asked curiously.

“Oh no. I wouldn't dare threaten you. Remember, I'm the son of a preacher.”

Dropping my gaze I said, “Even now, Devin, I love you.”

“Too bad. I don't love you.”

His words impaired me for a moment. It was never easy hearing him say this to me. I inhaled a breath to gather myself before saying, “So, are you really going to go through with this?”

“Yes. It would be in your best interest to go along with this as well. The easier you make this, the better it will be for everybody.”

I nodded, saying, “I was hoping you would have a change of heart. I mean, after all, I
am
your wife.”

“No change here,” he declared.

“I guess it was good I took it upon myself to move some money around in our joint account.”

“You did
what?
” he yelled, springing to his feet.

“I didn't want to be one of those women who go to get some money out of the bank, only to find her husband has taken everything.”

“Monica, don't play with me,” he heaved.

“I don't play games. That would be you.”

Devin darted out of the room and to our office. I knew he was going to get on the computer to check our checking and savings account. Why this man didn't believe me was beyond me. Hadn't I proven to him over and over again I spoke truth.

I filled my glass up with some more wine. Picking up the glass, I slid back in my seat and waited for my husband to return to the room as I savored the sweet liquid.

A roar echoed throughout our home, and I waited for him to scamper back in the room, which he did seconds later.

“You had no right!” he said menacingly.

“But I did. Don't worry your little head about it. I didn't take it all. I split it down the middle leaving you half.”

“Thirteen thousand dollars. How is that when I make more money than you?” he protested.

“Did you prefer I took it all?” I asked.

“I don't think you should have taken any of my money.”

“Now it's
your
money. I guess you're going to say this is your house, and I'm driving your car.”

“You damn right. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have any of this.”

“Don't do that, Devin,” I said leaning forward and placing my glass back down on the coffee table. “You know as well as I do I'm a woman who makes her own money.”

“Then why not take your own money?” he asked.

“I think I deserve every damn dime after dealing with your BS all of these years. I had my own house before selling it to put a large down payment on this home. I'm paying for my car also, so don't stand there and act like the only money coming up in this damn house is yours.”

“What? Do you want a pat on the back?”

“Yes. That would be nice for once, Devin. Why can't you acknowledge the good I've done in this marriage. I've washed your clothes and cooked your dinner. I took care of you when you were sick. I've dealt with your mother treating me like I don't belong in her family. I made sure you had your necessities down to the toilet paper you use to wipe your ass,” I snapped.

“But the one thing you couldn't do for me was bear me a child.”

That hurt. I think that hurt worse than him calling me a bitch.

“You knew my situation when you married me,” I said dejectedly. “Is
that
why you want to leave me and get with Georgiana, because she can bear a child for you?”

“I've always wanted kids, and you can't give me any. Why should I have to suffer because my wife can't do her womanly duty by birthing me a child?”

“Wow. I can't believe you said that.
Womanly duty? Really,
Devin? Now birthing kids is an obligation?”

“I know it's one you can't give me.”

“You make me sound like a recruit in your army that's supposed to perform what you want, when you want it, how you want it, when you yourself never gave me 100 percent of you. So, how can you expect so much from somebody you never gave a damn about in the first place?”

Devin said nothing. What could he say to that? He knew I was right.

“I'm finding out more about you every day. You never loved me. You are still in love with your first love, and now I'm some type of freak of nature who can't give you a child.”

“That about sums it up,” he said impassively.

“You are a poor excuse for a man. Here I have been trying my damnedest to please you. And for what? Nothing.”

“I'm going to put on some clean dry clothes; then I'm going out for dinner. So, there is no need to prepare anything for me,” he said turning and walking away from our conversation. I watched as he ascended the stairs.

“I'm not giving you a divorce,” I bellowed. “You can file the paperwork all you want, but you will never marry that bitch if I have anything to do with it.”

I heard the guest bedroom door slam shut. I sat defeated and feeling like maybe it was best for me to concede and give Devin what he wanted. I talked a big game when it came to signing the divorce papers, but I did have secrets that could persuade me to do so. His mother was already digging in my past, and I knew it would be only a matter of time before she came across something. This may be a battle I was going to lose; perhaps it was time for me to wave my little white flag and surrender to the demise of my marriage to my husband.

Kellie was the first one who called to check on Meena and me to see how we were doing. She saw how pissed I was when I left that restaurant and knew Meena was in some serious trouble. I explained the entire debacle of an afternoon and was happy to vent about the situation. I found it ironic earlier I was talking about Kellie always venting her problems when we got together, and now, here I was doing the same. God definitely had a funny way of making me look at myself. The same situation I talked about to Vivian and Monica was the same situation God placed in my lap, and I understood the lesson.

Kellie was even nice enough to ask if Meena could come over and chill with her for a while. At first, I hesitated, thinking this was why Meena acted the way she did because sometimes, I never stuck to my guns, letting her off punishment too soon. Kellie sensed my hesitation and said Meena was like a little sister to her, and she was going to use the opportunity to talk with my daughter about what was going on with her. I appreciate that. Meena was an only child, and I thought it was nice that my daughter had someone she could turn to. Kellie may have her issues, like everybody else, but she was a good person. So, I agreed to Meena hanging out with her. Besides, Dempsey was coming over to pay me a visit. It couldn't have come at a better time since I was already turned on by that handsome Officer Ward who, for some reason, I couldn't get off my mind. As much as I knew Meena needed to be on punishment, I needed some time to unwind.

I always anticipated that first lick, that first flicker of a man's tongue letting me know there were more of those to come. Dempsey didn't know what danger he was in playing with me like this. My mind was ready. My body was anxious, and I couldn't stand feeling the eagerness of him getting geared up pleasing me. When Dempsey's tongue finally connected with my center, I thought I would lose it. He dove deep inside me like a man doing a cannonball in the deep end of a pool. He loved to tease me, and I loved to be on the receiving end of his tongue flicking beneath the mounds of my seduction. He looked up at me smiling as he kneeled between my thighs, taunting me and asking me if I loved what he was doing to me. His voice was enticing; like the smooth music of a quiet storm that relaxed you and took you back to yesteryears. That, and the combination of what his tongue was doing to me were taking me to levels I didn't get to experience often. My breathing became shallow as the intensity of my climax began to build. I wanted to grab his head and bury his face within me, he was that good. He caressed my thighs, gazing up at me as he lapped at my sweet nectar. Craving more, I began to grind my hips into him, bringing me closer to my peak. I positioned my feet on his shoulders as I rotated my hips. I may have been a thick sister, but I was also a flexible one. I bit my lip as each second brought me closer to my eruption. My core spasmed. I reached down and gripped a handful of his dreads, pulling him into me. Like the champ he was, he continued to lick and suck until I no longer could take any more. If I didn't push him away, Dempsey would keep going, and I was already dizzy with gratification, so I pushed him away. I needed a moment to gather myself as my body continued to quiver.

I watched as Dempsey stood to his feet. He began to remove his basketball shorts. His dick bounced free from his shorts sticking straight out at me as Dempsey dropped his shorts around his ankles and stepped out of them. He was burly with broad shoulders and a somewhat flat stomach but not the six-pack I was used to when I was with Kegan. Kegan was a sculptured masterpiece of a man with abs that rippled, arms that bulged, and a chest cut to perfection. I hated thinking or comparing Dempsey to him right now, but it was hard not to. I probably would compare every man to Kegan since he had been the only man I'd ever truly loved. Hell, I didn't even love Meena's dad, and I had a child by him. But now was not the time to have all of these thoughts. I needed to concentrate on the matter at hand.

I maneuvered through the dark cobalt-blue sheets, crawling up to him until I was on the edge of the bed with my face leveled with his extension.

“My turn,” I whispered, looking up at him and watching him lick his lips in eager anticipation. Before I could place my mouth on him, he was running his fingers through my kinky twist. I loved when he tugged at my hair.
Make it hurt,
I always said.

“Down boy,” I spoke to his dick eager to be in something moist. “I'm going to show you some attention right now.”

My warm hands instantly caused Dempsey to sigh as he looked down at me.

“Put it in your mouth,” he demanded huskily. “Take all of it.”

With Dempsey, I could take it all. He had a nice-size dick but not like Kegan's. Kegan had at least two inches on him, and I closed my eyes, mad at myself for thinking about him yet again. Wanting to forget about Kegan, I took all of Dempsey inside my mouth.

“Do the damn thing,” he said softly.

His legs trembled with the union of my soft lips, warm tongue, and the constriction of my jaws humming a lovely tune around him. He gripped my head with both hands, pulling me further down on him. I guess with the massive dick Kegan had, taking all of Dempsey was a breeze.

There I went again thinking about Kegan. What was wrong with me? Would I ever get that man out of my system? Between the invite to his upcoming wedding and running into his soon-to-be wife, it was hard not to think of him.

I stroked Dempsey from his balls to the tip if his dick in circular movements that gave every inch of him pleasure. My thumb led the progression in every stroke. Dempsey started to join in with hip successions that sent him deeper into my throat.

“Can you handle me, baby?” I asked as I came up for air.

“Oh, I can handle you. I just don't know if I can handle what you doing to me right now . . . shit.”

I smirked. I guess my cocky demeanor caused him to pull me away from his throbbing expansion. I knew he was a few strokes away from climaxing which was why he stopped me.

“Turn over,” he commanded.

“Like this?” I said, getting on all fours.

“Exactly like that.”

Dempsey quickly mounted me. Without any hesitation, he entered gently. My pussy welcomed him by opening wide for him. The first few strokes were slow, but each one that came brought an eagerness to speed up the tempo of our bodies making music together. I loved to face him, but if I had to choose a position, this was my favorite. There was just something about the way a man took control and pulled me into him, grabbing my waist with his big hands to plunge his dick inside me. Just the thought of this always turned me on.

Dempsey didn't disappoint. I know we went at it for over an hour before he reached his climax. Lucky for me, I'd reached mine several times over, and boy, did I need it. This was a stress reliever that was long overdue. As I lay beside Dempsey who quickly drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think of Kegan again and how much more I would have enjoyed this if I was having sex with him instead. He'd spoiled me something terrible, and it was then when I decided I was going to go to that wedding to see if he was going to go through with this facade of a relationship. Maybe seeing him say I do to another woman would help me get over him once and for all.