Scandalicious (10 page)

Melanee hadn’t noticed the large vintage bell that sat atop a table until Madam extended a long and graceful arm to retrieve it. With a slight and mysterious smile on her lips, Madam rang the bell.

The butler appeared almost instantly. “Madam?” he said with a slight head bow.

“This girl is going to entertain us with a demonstration. We’re all eager to view her talent.”

“I understand, Madam.” The butler wore a somber expression. With a theatrical flourish, he began to unzip his pants. He palmed his flaccid penis, which he tenderly stroked until it swelled to an enormous size. The butler turned slowly, presenting each dominant guest with a showing of his massive erection.

When a great riot of applause erupted from dominant guests, a flattered smile formed on the butler’s face. The leashed and collared subs were appropriately still and silent, showing no sign of being impressed by the butler’s significantly enlarged penis.

At Colden’s command, Melanee had licked lots of pussy, but she’d never been ordered to administer a blow job to any man other than Colden. She glanced at Colden questioningly.

Colden waved his hand, gesturing his permission. Though his expression was stoic, a glimmer of warmth and pride was reflected in his eyes.

Encouraged by the promise of the reward she’d receive later, Melanee kneeled before the butler and drew his sizeable dick into her mouth, lathing it with her tongue, sucking as though it held the same sweetness as Colden’s magnificent dick.

T
he way his salary had been hacked, he only made a fraction of what he used to earn. Chevonne headed the Department of Tourism for the City of Philadelphia, and her salary put Lincoln’s to shame. After his numerous pay cuts, she was responsible for the lion’s share of the household bills.

Though he could barely cover his portion of the family’s living expenses, Lincoln had thought about it long and hard, and had come to a decision. He couldn’t stay under the same roof as Chevonne. Nor could he walk away from his children.

Sitting up in bed, her back pressed against the headboard, Chevonne stared at the monitor of her laptop and tapped the keys. As a department head, her responsibilities were tremendous. It wasn’t unusual for her to bring work home. But after the discovery of her adulterous affair, Lincoln wondered if she’d been using the pretext of work to exchange sex messages with her illicit lover. He didn’t put anything past her sneaky ass.

It incensed him that Chevonne had lain in bed beside him night after night, pretending to work, while possibly sending explicit pictures and emails to her secret paramour.

Lincoln recalled how badly he’d craved her body, forcing himself to try to focus on TV while waiting for her to finish whatever she was working on. But most nights, after she’d shut down her laptop, she would also shut her legs. Claiming to have cramps or a headache. Plenty of excuses and hardly any pleasure.

All too often, she’d turned her back toward Lincoln, denying
him, leaving him no choice but to jack off as she lay sleeping beside him.

Every now and then, she doled out pity pussy. Lincoln cringed while recalling the occasions when he’d accepted pussy that was not given freely. Pussy that he was entitled to was reluctantly given with a frown and a long sigh of aggravation, as if Lincoln were a beggar or a hopeless charity case.

Bitter memories reinforced his animosity. “I’m leaving you, Chevonne.” His hostile voice cut through the silence inside the bedroom. “I’m looking for an apartment.”

Chevonne exhaled audibly. Before responding, she grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV. “I don’t want the children to overhear us,” she explained, in a hushed tone of voice.

Lincoln gave a snickering sound of sarcastic laughter. “You seemed to be an expert at keeping up a façade, but do you actually believe that the volume from the TV will disguise the dissension in our household?”

“I’m trying to protect Amir and Tori. They don’t need to hear every detail of our marital problems.”

Lincoln nodded, seemingly with understanding. Then he threw an unexpected, low blow. “Yeah, I can understand why you wouldn’t want the kids to know that their mother is a slut.”

“Sarcasm, name-calling, sulking. It’s all so immature…and vicious.” Chevonne shook her head pityingly, as if Lincoln’s resentment was uncalled for.

“I’m not the spouse that cheated, and quite frankly, I didn’t know that there were rules of etiquette in this situation. But since you’re the one that was raised in a well-to-do family, why don’t you school me? What’s the proper code of behavior? What the hell is a civilized man supposed to do when he discovers that his wife is a whoring-ass bitch?”

“Is this name calling necessary? Can’t you behave like a mature adult? What’s done is done. All we can do is move forward now.”

Lincoln gawked at her. “Move forward? Are you serious? Every time I look at you, I see a random dick sliding between your lips.” He glared at her while his hateful words sank in. “Did you swallow, baby? Did you guzzle down that muthafucka’s cum?”

Tears formed in Chevonne’s eyes. Her distress gave Lincoln a small degree of satisfaction.

Chevonne wiped her eyes. “I was going to try to convince you to stay, but maybe a trial separation is a good idea. How can I fight to hold our family together with you constantly making snide comments? Go ahead and leave. Do whatever you want to do. I have to worry about our children—make sure that they’re being raised in a healthy environment.”

Eyes wide with incredulity, Lincoln pointed at his wife. “You destroyed our family. You poisoned this environment when you made the decision to drop your drawers for that muthafucka. Blame your cum-hungry pussy and your knob-slobbering lips, but don’t try to blame me for destroying our family.”

“Must you be so crude?”

“Tit for a tat. Your slut-bucket activities weren’t exactly ladylike, you know.”

She winced. “I’m sorry, Lincoln. You can’t imagine how truly sorry I am. But how long do you think I’m going to tolerate your verbal attacks?” Chevonne said tearfully. “If this is the only way that you can communicate, then you need to go. I’ll help you pack.”

“Don’t turn the tables on me. I’m not the bad guy. I’m the one who was duped. I thought I was married to a wholesome woman—a refined lady—with morals and family values. But I was hoodwinked. You’re really no different than a two-dollar whore.”

“I never presented myself as anything other than a human being.
Educated? Yes. From a respected family? Yes. But you’re the one that put me on a pedestal. And now you’re trying to chip away at it—trying to tear me down.”

Being from the ’hood, Lincoln had to claw and scratch for everything he’d gotten. Basketball was his ticket to college and his intelligence led him to what had started out as a promising and lucrative career. A classy chick like Chevonne would have never been within his reach if he hadn’t pulled himself up by his bootstraps. Chevonne had been the ultimate reward—his trophy wife.

Now she was tainted. He gave her a look of repugnance.

Chevonne looked away from his condemning gaze. Eyes lowered, she asked, “Do you want to try counseling—as a last-chance effort? It might help.”

Looking at his beautiful wife, repentant and beaten, he wished he could say something optimistic, but forgiveness was not in his heart.

“I wish you would have thought about counseling before you made that move. The trust is broken. How can talking to a counselor restore the trust that I had in you?”

“I don’t know, but shouldn’t we think about the kids and at least make an effort?”

Lincoln shook his head. “Like I said, I thought long and hard. I’m leaving. And Amir is gong with me when I move.”

Chevonne made a long, croaking sound, as if stabbed with a dagger. “You can’t take my child away from me.”

“We’re over, Chevonne. Nothing can change that. But I’m not going to allow our situation to affect the close bond I’ve built with my son. If I fought hard enough—if I paid for a high-price lawyer, I could probably get Amir and Tori. But I think a girl needs her mother.”

“Amir needs me, too!” There was a wild and desperate look in Chevonne’s eyes—like she was capable of homicide.

“Amir needs me! I’ll be damned if I’ll allow my son to be influenced by the opinions and attitudes of a bunch of random dudes. Fuck that!”

Tears flowed from Chevonne’s eyes. She sniffled helplessly. “I’m a good mother. I’d never allow my children—”

“A good mother thinks about her children’s well-being before parting her skanky legs for some out-of-town dick.”

T
onight was the night! She was finally going to have Deon back in her bed. It didn’t surprise her that Deon was in high demand. He put it on her in the bedroom. The extra bonus was his good looks and his thuggish swagger. That curved dick of his was well worth every dollar she’d put on her credit card.

“It’s time for my lunch break,” Vidal called out, his voice carrying to the kitchen.

Anticipating the hot night she was going to have with Deon, Solay wore a secret smile as she replaced Vidal at the counter.

“What’s the weekly special?” a college-aged kid asked, squinting at the chalkboard menu. Solay recognized him as a regular who bought cupcakes three or four times a week.

“No special today,” Solay replied. Though slightly aggravated that the student wasn’t content with the regular menu, she managed a strained smile. “What would you like—chocolate, red velvet, or vanilla?”

The college kid scowled the menu again. “No, I wanted the special.” He left the counter and skulked past the line of waiting customers.

Solay was flabbergasted. This was a first. No customer had ever left her bakery in disappointment. After the kid left, it seemed like every other customer was asking about Screamin’ O’s or inquiring about the weekly special.

She’d been thankful that Melanee was no longer mixing together
expensive ingredients and slowing down the production of the regular list of options. Something was going on with Melanee. Her mind seemed to be off in the clouds. Miraculously, she’d fallen back into step with the way that Solay ran her business. Baking Solay’s tried and true recipes only.

Now Solay was a little worried. With Melanee’s specialties being so popular, Solay wasn’t sure if eliminating them had been a good idea. Maybe she should to speak to Melanee; give her the green light to whip up some more delectable treats. But remembering how egotistical Melanee could be, Solay changed her mind. In the future, any specialty on the menu at Scandalicious would be something that Solay created. She’d be a fool to allow her temperamental baking assistant to have that much control over her business.

She checked him out through the peephole. Deon was a sexy sight. She flung the door open, welcoming him.

Solay felt seductive in black heels, a glittery, pale-blue thong and matching push-up bra.

Deon gave her a wide, appreciative smile. “You look gorgeous,” he said and then hugged Solay tight, like they were long-lost lovers.

Her arms circled around his back, fully participating in the warm embrace. Being close to him felt good—too good!