Just Can't Let Go (14 page)

CHAPTER 21

Blake

“I
'm glad you accepted my offer to come over, Blake,” Bing said. “You look amazing.”

Here I was again with a handsome man. The scent of his cologne greeted me first. He had on a white pullover collared shirt with khaki knee-length shorts that were neatly creased and brown leather sandals.

The fact that Bing was ten years younger, and he'd pursued me, made me smile. Better start giving myself more credit for being desirable. “Thanks for inviting me.”

I'd worn blue fitted jeans, a crop sleeved pink tapered top, and three-inch open-toed shoes. My hair was flat-ironed with a part down the center. Sandara advised me the combo would take a solid decade off of my fifty.

“I'll give you the tour later,” he said. “Follow me.”

We shared a lounge chair on his deck. I could hear myself breathing. Crickets chirped in the distance. In front of the tall trees Bing had told me there was a lake. It was so dark in the distance that I couldn't see water, but the stars shined like diamonds in the sky.

He handed me a glass of red wine. “A toast to the most beautiful woman and the luckiest man in the world.”

“Cheers,” was all I said, praying there would be many more toasts to come.

We sat, enjoyed wine. I should have more moments like this. Having been with Spencer and now Bing, I realized I preferred a younger, attractive businessman. The mixologist running the bar was not for me. Yet, Spencer was the perfect transition man that helped me get over my ex, Fortune.

Bing interrupted our silence. “I have a confession,” he said, refilling my glass first, then his.

“Only if it's good news.”

“Okay, then I'll come back to the confession. Blake”—Bing paused, held my hand, then continued—“from what you told me over dinner the other day, I want to let you know, I don't need anything financial from you. I—”

Seriously? I was his banker. I might not be aware of all of his accounts or his liabilities, but the resources at our institution were a comfortable seven figures. My money was no comparison.

“I know that, Bing.” This was a man who probably had Swiss bank accounts, stocks, bonds, treasury bills, and more.

“I'm not putting you down. You're a beautiful and intelligent woman. Seems to me you keep choosing to be with men who for whatever reason are, one, not on your level, and two, they don't want you. They simply want to use you.”

Appreciate would've been a better word choice. But okay, the fact that he started with, I'm not putting you down, meant to me that he was. I was no charity case. Had to blame myself for sharing too much too soon. That was a fault of mine.

I held the wineglass to my lips, took a long, slow sip, then swallowed. “Sorry if I gave you that impression. That wasn't my intention.”

“Think about it for a moment,” he told me; then he became quiet.

The more I reflected, I had to admit to myself, he was right. Four daughters, no husband, no fathers listed on my children's birth certificates. Fifty. Single. Lived with Fortune for years while he was still legally married. Didn't want to think about why I fell in love with Spencer. Maybe my not wanting to confront my insecurities was the reason I'd dated down.

“Blake, a real man that you are dating would never consider, let alone have, sex with your daughter. And if you were happy when your ex died, you said you didn't want him because he didn't care for you. No woman hates a man that truly loves her.”

I told him all that? Damn. I talked too much. Wasn't going to let Bing make me the solo focus. “You're a great catch. Why are you single?”

“Busy all the time. Travel a lot for business. Don't date desperate women. I do the chasing. I was attracted to you because you partially know my financial status.” He laughed, then continued. “And you actually turned me down a few times.”

Had my own money. Prayed to keep it that way. If things with Bing and I didn't work out, he could cause me to lose my job. “What were your longest, best, and last relationships like?” I asked.

“Best. College. Three years, seven months, two weeks, and one day. I wasn't ready for marriage. She was. She broke up with me. Met another guy. They're still husband and wife. I missed the mark,” he said, nodding. “Should've put a ring on it. Haven't met anyone like her since. You don't have to worry. I'm over finding her twin. I'm in search of my own happiness. Tired of going to bed alone. Don't believe in random sex.”

Okay. I was done exploring that part of his past. “What's the confession?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “I knew you were never going to accept my invitation to dinner and I understand why, so I had Brandon set us up.”

Smiling, I sat up straight. “Well, that little sneak. I'm going to get him.”

“And, I'm going to thank him,” Bing said, leaning in for a kiss.

The second our lips touched, I prayed this one would be the one. He was right. I'd never had a man whom I didn't take care of. I was always offering money, cash, keys to my home, or my car to a man. Spencer hadn't asked for those things, yet I'd still done it. My ex Fortune, before he died, had gotten comfortable not only with asking but expecting me to provide for him. I had to accept responsibility for my part as an enabler.

Bing's tongue danced with mine. Liquor and saliva blended as he placed his hand at the nape of my neck. Bing Sterling kissed me harder than any man had. Or maybe it just seemed like it.

“You're amazing, Blake.”

“Speaking of amazing,” I told him, “it looks like I'm going to get promoted to corporate.”

“Perfect timing. You won't have a reason not to go out with me when I get back from Paris.”

He was leaving me? For how long? I said, “I've always wanted to go there.”

“Consider it done. I'm not taking no for an answer. Call my assistant first thing in the morning. She has my schedule. Give her your details and we'll continue this date in the city of love.”

Should I be flattered or annoyed that he didn't consider my profession? Relaxing my back against his chest, I decided to enjoy the moment.

Gazing up at the stars, being in Bing's arms let me know that true love for me was still a possibility.

CHAPTER 22

Devereaux

“M
ake love to me, Dev.”

Anything he'd ask, I'd do . . . anything. For him. After what happened today, I had to downgrade Phoenix to an almost anything.

I replied, “Not tonight. I have to get up early.”

“I do too. Now that we're both on set, we're going to have to find time for making love during the week, not only on Sundays. Nya's not home. We can do it anywhere we want in the house.”

I'd taken the private investigator's information from Mercedes for two reasons. One, to help find my father. The other, I looked at Phoenix. He was a man. Yes, he was capable of cheating. After all I'd done for him, I didn't want to believe he'd have an affair with any woman, especially Ebony, but Mercedes might be right. At least I'd know. Being wedded to a liar. I couldn't do that. I closed my eyes. All I wanted was peace and sleep.

He placed his hand between my thighs. Penetrated me with his finger. “I won't take long, babe.”

Never opening my eyes, I moved his hand, turned my back to him. My work. My child. My man. That was what made me happy on the inside. I didn't love him any less, but I'd be lying to myself if I'd act as though that picture Mercedes showed me at the bar didn't bother me. I hugged my pillow, buried the side of my face into the plush down feathers.

“Are you seeing Trés?” Phoenix said in my ear.

My entire body cringed. Softly, I answered, “I suggest you don't go there.”

“What's that supposed to mean? Why you turn your back on me when I told you I want you to make love to me?”

“Because I'm tired. And I, unlike you, seriously have to work. If I weren't tired, I'd make love to you.”

After four years of dating this man, his flesh next to my naked body made me hotter than the day he penetrated me for the first time. Rolling over, I'd changed my mind. What if Mercedes was wrong? I held his face in my palms, then softly kissed his lips.

I was his backbone. I was his ride or die. The protector of his heart. Keeper of his secrets. Comforter of his fears. Fulfiller of his deepest desires. All those things were my responsibility to keep my man from having a reason to sex another woman.

Mercedes's voice echoed in my ear.
What is he to you?

She wasn't the only one who had questioned why I stayed with Phoenix. My other two sisters thought I was his fool. I might be foolish in their opinion, but I believed in loyalty, monogamy, and true love. I wanted to hold on to those values, yet the truth, I couldn't deny. Deep within my soul I loved this man so much I was terrified of losing him.

I'd changed my mind again. I stopped kissing him. Stared into his eyes. Lovingly told him, “Good night.”

Phoenix flapped the cover and comforter off of his body, started stroking his dick.

Nana used to tell me that before she passed. It was my grandmother's way of helping me overcome my challenges by encouraging me to become fearless. Nana was the reason I poured all my passion into the people and things that were important to me. My time was limited. My passion was not.

“Oh shit,” Phoenix said.

I felt the motion of his movement. His rhythm got faster, and faster. Hopefully he'd cum soon so both of us could get some rest. I was not giving in to him.

From my hardest days at Clark Atlanta to the toughest days running my business, Nana's advice worked for everything, except my relationship. I was always afraid of losing my man.

Starting right now I was going to try to stop worrying whether or not Phoenix had ever been with another woman since we'd started dating. There was no proof. My man wasn't all I wanted him to be, but he was everything I needed, and Mercedes was not going to pull me into her fire.

His rhythm slowed. My heartbeat thumped in my throat. I could stop being stubborn and give in. Lend him a hand or spread my thighs.

Earlier tonight Mercedes had said, “You can do better.” I hated when people told me that as if upgrading men was simple as clicking a button. Get rid of my man and become a single mom? At least I had Etta to watch Nya. That was priceless.

Mercedes's husband, Benjamin, was a great father. He gave her whatever she wanted. I didn't want to find out if dating the director of my television series would make me happier. For now, I'd continue to do more than my fair share if that meant keeping my family happy and together.

“Make love to me, Dev. Please,” he begged this time.

The only man I'd ever totally submitted to summoned me to do what I'd do without him ever having to ask. I couldn't deny that I was turned on now. We were naked in our bed, home alone.

I faced him. He eased on top of me.

The beat of our hearts thumped at the same time. Soul-to-soul, his muscular smooth flesh layered atop my body. He stared at me. I closed, then opened my eyes to the most beautiful black man, the color of sweet licorice. The waves of the abs he sweated to maintain, the ones he'd told me were for my enjoyment, I wondered if I had an exclusive.

You're my world, babe.
I felt he could read my thoughts.

The energy emerging in my breasts intensified as my breaths quickened. My breathing became shallow. Quietly I heaved, pressing my hard nipples against his chest. My lips parted. Closing my eyes, I exhaled.

He inhaled.

He exhaled.

I inhaled sharp as though taking a whiff of a freshly baked cinnamon apple pie. I loved this man so much. Looking at him, I moaned, “Mmmm.” Pressing my lips to his ear in the moment, I confessed, “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

Blowing his warm breath into my mouth, he reassured me, “You'll never have to find out.”

His nice white teeth illuminated his onyx lips that moved toward mine. I met him more than halfway. Kissed him ever so passionately.

“Make—”

“Shh.” I placed my finger on his lips, then whispered, “I got you, babe.”

His loving, caring, considerate ways attracted me to him. Our sex had grown more meaningful over the years.

Easing his head inside of me, my walls pulsated. I felt his shaft penetrate me. I wrapped my legs around his firm ass. The fire, the energy, the connection I experienced each time we made love missionary style, it was my favorite position.

I'd never tire of this feeling. Never.

CHAPTER 23

Spencer

E
bony's bathroom was the size of a studio apartment.

All white marble, tiled walls, all gold fixtures. Jacuzzi roomy enough for six to easily chill. Walk-in shower that could accommodate four people. I bet some real illish sex scenes went down here. My imagination was wild right now, boy.

“Make yourself comfortable in there, Spencer. Use whatever you'd like,” Buster said.

Old dude seemed all right. “Cool,” I answered.

I closed the double sliding doors. Shit was laid. White plush robe on a warmer. Cherry wooden hangers inside the open closet. Removing my clothes, I hung everything up, including my drawers. Counted a half-dozen smoking jackets. No pajama bottoms. Boxes of new underwear were neatly arranged on a shelf. Briefs, boxer briefs, silk boxers. Gold and white. Black and red. Green. Purple. Orange.

Toiletries, cologne, toothpaste, four kinds, mouthwash, three types, were on a silver tray on the long countertop. This was some beyond the spa shit with face, hand, and bath towels rolled into tubes.

Stepping into the shower, what the hell? There were no knobs to turn, only buttons to push. I set the temperature to seventy-seven, pressure to high. There were no showerheads, but there was a button for it. What the heck, I selected all, then pressed start.

“Mr. Spencer, your shower will start in . . .” An automated system counted down from five. Tiles slid sideways, waters sprayed from above down on the top of my head. Aiming at my hips, my dick and the crack of my ass got sprayed at the same time.

Soon as I thought,
Where's the soap?
Liquid suds squirted from tiny holes in the wall. This was beyond the Matrix experience for my ass.

I started rubbing my body all over. Three minutes later, the automated woman announced, “Rinsing off.” Two minutes later, I heard her say, “Blow-drying you.” When I was dry, I thought she was going to skeet me with massage oil.

“Thank you, Mr. Spencer. It's been my pleasure pampering you.”

Damn! “No, thank you,” I said.

“You don't have to thank me.”

Okay, I was not getting into a convo with her. I'd save that for Siri on my cell. I stepped into the white and gold boxer briefs, downed the whisky, rinsed my mouth, brushed my teeth and my hair, then eased on the white robe. The heat absorbed into my shoulders. I left the belt untied.

“Aw, man. This joint is paradise.”

I decided to try the Tom Ford Noir. Liked it enough to buy it the next time I was at a department store. Slicked jojoba oil on my chest. Had to pick up some of these sexy ass unders too. Tying the belt, I took a deep breath, exhaled, then opened the double doors.

Ebony was lying across the bed dressed in her boots, thong, and bra. She'd taken off her robe, put on a blindfold.

“I like Chopin,” I said. “Nice selection.”

“Don't look at me.” Buster puffed on his cigar. “And don't leave my gorgeous wife waiting. Do whatever she requests,” he said, blowing smoke rings.

Cool. The feeling was mutual. Didn't want his old behind looking at me either.

Screwing a man's wife in front of him was a brand-new, yet exciting experience. I'd heard about it. Long as he kept his ass on the couch and didn't ask me to lick her boots, we'd be all right. I approached the bed, crawled on top of Ebony, interlocked my fingers with hers, stretched her arms above her head.

She was striking. Her titties were north. Couldn't wait to unleash that bra and squeeze them titties to find out if her breasts were natural. I trailed kisses down her arm. Licked her armpits. She moaned, “Spank my ass with your dick.”

I felt her hand slide into my briefs. My dick was rock solid. I spoke with authority. “Turn over.”

“Call me a bitch,” she said.

Ebony was speaking my language. Like a drill sergeant, I commanded, “Bitch, turn your ass over. Now.”

Her buttery, slippery butt was in the air. I bit the strap on her thong, pulled her undies to her thighs with my teeth.

“Put it in my ass,” she said.

I didn't have to reach far for a condom. I removed a packet from the headboard, ripped it open. Picked up the lube, squeezed a few drops inside the condom before rolling it onto my dick. Put a drop on the outside of her rectum.

I teased the opening of her ass with my head. I could tell from the size of her asshole this wasn't her first time doing anal. I took my time because that was my warm-up style. Penetrating her felt crazy good. Maybe it was the visual of how sexy she looked, how she smelled sweet enough to eat, or the fact that I didn't want anyone to wake me if I were dreaming.

“Your dick feels so good, Spencer.” She called my name in a slick, sexy way. Then she said, “Thank you for fucking me in the ass, daddy.”

Didn't matter if she meant that daddy part for her husband. All that shit made my dick harder. Had to apply pressure to the base of my shaft to keep from cuming too soon.

“Go deeper. You have no idea how bad of a girl I've been. Fuck this pretty ass. You like it, don't cha? Is it tight enough for you? If not, I can . . .” She squeezed my man real tight.

I bit my bottom lip. On purpose. To dickstract myself. Picking up the pace, I was about to bust. I paused. She backed her hairless pussy up on my balls, slamming then bouncing her ass into my pelvis. She thrust hard, made her cheeks clap, then paused. Ebony had them stripper moves like Chanel. I hadn't fucked Chanel, but I'd seen her dance a time or two.

Ebony whispered, “Don't move. Daddy likes it when I cum. You feel my juices on your big cock?”

Speechless. Wanted to say something. Couldn't. Not if I was maintaining control. I waited for her to finish climaxing. Her using the word
cock
helped me out. Hadn't heard a sistah use that word in a minute.

“Put on a fresh condom and come get this pussy. Call me a bitch,” she said.

Pulling out, I told Ebony, “Bitch, you're about to get the best dick you've ever had.” I put my used rubber in a small empty box, used a wipe to cleanse my hands, reached for a fresh condom.

A swing lowered from the canopy. Dude must've had a remote 'cause she didn't touch a damn thing. She climbed into it, sat up, spread her legs. Her pussy was right in front of my dick.

“Don't move,” she said. Aligning herself, she bared down on my dick.

Sliding her hands up, the straps she held on to were bungee cords. “Hold my hips,” she commanded.

Ebony interlocked her ankles at the base of my spine, rocked back and forth. Shit was incredible. I was fucked up. When was I going to have this experience again? Surprised dudes weren't lined up outside her gate for this opp. Watching her on television was going to straight up be masturbation night for me.

She glanced in the direction of her husband, then back at me. She whispered, “He's asleep. Take off the condom. I want to feel your dick. But don't cum inside me, okay?”

Wow. I nodded. He said do whatever she'd ask. I took off the condom, dropped it in the box with the other one. Entering her felt like my dick was surrounded by hot, creamy, liquid silk lubrication. I liked heating up my lube before jacking off.

She swung back and forth. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out. Wanted both sets of her lips in my mouth.

“I'm about to cum,” I said. “What you want me to do?”

“Not yet. Give me a moment,” she said, biting me real hard on my chest. Instead of letting go, her teeth sunk deeper. When she let go, I wanted to holler. That shit felt orgasmic in a weird ass way but it took my mind off of busting a nut.

Ebony resumed rocking, rotating, bouncing, and grinding. “Hold my hips. Go deeper,” she whispered as though she were cheating on her husband.

That was not the right move. If I looked at ole dude, my shit was going to go south. The second I went all in on Ebony, I screamed like a bitch.

I felt my cum shoot inside her pussy again and again. My dick throbbed. Her pussy pulsated. Her G-spot had to be on full. There was one way to tell. I had to pull out and get out of the way. I put two fingers inside her, slid her G-spot toward me, then pushed hard right above her pubic bone.

She screamed, “Oh, shit!”

Ebony's juices squirted across the room on her husband's dick. Nigga was so quiet I thought he was asleep. When I looked to see how far her juices sprayed, ole dude was wide awake jacking himself off. He busted a nut in the middle of her streaming.

Hope she wouldn't trip off of my ejaculating inside of her, but I couldn't pull out. I just couldn't.