Scandalicious (3 page)

“Busy as hell!” she’d reply, allowing the stress to ring loud and clear in her voice.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she’d say, with uncomfortable laughter.

“Were you thinking about me?” the one-night stand would ask, totally testing her patience.

Hell, fucking no!
she’d scream in her head, and then dryly respond, “Uh-huh.”

At the point when he’d start to hint that he was interested in seeing her again, Solay would have already labeled him a nuisance, and her fingers would begin rapidly tapping, as she deleted him from her contact list.

Call her selfish, but it was what it was. Solay was married to her business, and had scant time for an extramarital affair.

Everything about Scandalicious screamed sex, from the intimate French bistro décor to the provocatively sexy names of her cupcakes, and now Solay was feeling somewhat fraudulent, running a sex-themed business when she wasn’t getting any action.

There had to be a way to get the sex she desired without the complications of a relationship. After a few minutes of pondering her options, she went online.

Wearing a naughty smile, she Googled the phrase, “rent a dick.” Her smile broadened when numerous possibilities popped on the screen.

She clicked on “Rent-A-Man Escort Service.” A variety of muscle-bound hunks represented the available offerings of that
service. Solay was pretty sure that the beautiful images on the website were merely stock photos and not part of the actual selection. Undeterred, she perused the site, and learned that she had the option of hiring a man by the hour or renting his services for the night.

An hour’s worth of no-strings-attached sex was all she needed to improve her attitude, and give her some of her swag back. Wheeling and dealing in the business world, required her to exude confidence and sex appeal.

Credit card in hand, she called and boldly requested a one-hour date, making it clear that she didn’t need a dinner date, and she wasn’t going to a business affair. All she wanted from her hired man was to be escorted straight to her bed!

As she swept through the dining area, Solay noticed that the place was jam-packed. Not one available seat. And there was a mob of people waiting at the counter. Business was good.

Vidal was entertaining the customers, joking and making quips as usual, enjoying the spotlight, and working the front as if it were his personal stage. Vidal had survived the kitchen war and had emerged without any noticeable battle scars. His clothing and his appearance were as impeccable as always.

“Here you go. A dozen Passionate Kisses,” Vidal said to a female customer. “I threw in a free Screamin’ Orgasm to complete your sinful night,” Vidal said, giving the patron a conspiratorial wink. The customers who were in line waiting for their orders were not impatient. Thoroughly charmed by Vidal, the customers were completely entertained while waiting.

“What’s the Screamin’ Orgasm?” someone in the line asked.

“Check out the menu.” Vidal pointed to the chalkboard menu that hung on the wall behind him.

Solay’s eyes wandered upward.
Melanee’s Delectable Special: Screamin’ Orgasm (orange/ginger cupcake with tangy orange butter cream frosting) $5.00 each.

Solay was appalled at Melanee’s willfulness, and intended to put her on a one-day suspension. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the next customer’s request.

“I’ll have a dozen cupcakes,” said a woman carrying a briefcase and dressed in a conservative business suit. “I want four red velvet, four double chocolate, and four vanilla,” she said, carefully avoiding the provocative cupcake names.

“Do you want the free Screaming O?” Vidal asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he put the businesswoman on blast.

“Sure, I’ll try it,” she said, lashes lowering in embarrassment, face flushing red.

Helping out in the front, Solay began packaging the woman’s order.

“We’ll have a half-dozen Screamin’ O’s,” said two giggly college girls.

“Coming right up!” Vidal disappeared into the kitchen and then came right back, carrying a tray of six gorgeous creations.

Customers glimpsed the pastel orange-colored delights, and murmured, “Wow!”

The caramelized orange slice embellishments gave the cupcakes an award-winning look. “Folks, we’re down to the last half-dozen of Screamin’ O’s.”

The customers released a collective groan. The two college girls clapped their hands as if they’d won a prize and then shelled over thirty dollars, plus tax.

While helping out in the front, Solay witnessed numerous
customers who had gotten the free cupcake, returning to buy more.

“Those Screamin’ O’s went like hot cakes,” Vidal told a customer. “We’ll have more tomorrow.”

“No we won’t,” Solay disagreed. “We’ll be back to our regular menu tomorrow.”

“You must not like money,” Vidal muttered under his breath.

Solay let the comment slide. Vidal had no idea how expensive and time-consuming it was for Melanee to create those cupcakes. She’d have to hire more help if she kept those Screaming O’s on the menu.

By closing time, Solay had gotten over her anger and realized that she’d be only hurting herself if she put Melanee on suspension for even a day. Unfortunately, Melanee was right; to Solay’s dismay, the Screamin’ O’s were a success.

“Good night, ladies, it’s been fun,” Vidal said, after tying his dramatic, fringed scarf around his neck. Before leaving, he bent and reached under the counter behind bags and cupcake boxes.
“Voilà!”
he said.

“Ooo, you’re such a sneak,” Melanee said, laughing.

“And you’re the Picasso of pastry,” he said, eyeing the cupcake with admiration.

Flattered, Melanee smiled. “Thank you, Vidal.”

“I have to have at least one Screamin’ Orgasm after all that fore-play I put in today!” Vidal twirled around and headed for the door.

After Vidal left, Solay and Melanee cleaned up the kitchen. “In the future, you need to ask permission before you tamper with the menu. Nothing should be on that chalkboard or baked in my ovens without my explicit permission.”

“But we discussed it…”

“Yes, we had a conversation, but nothing was finalized. Your cupcakes were a huge success, but I don’t see how I can afford to allow you to bake anything other than the items on the menu.”

“I can come in an hour earlier. Or stay a few hours later…start making up the batter for the next day.”

“Why would you put yourself through that? I can’t raise your pay.”

“I’m bored doing the same thing every day. I need to express myself creatively.”

“Well, that’s something you can do on your own time. Seriously, Melanee. I can’t afford to buy those ingredients…even at five dollars a pop, I’ll only break even.”

“Okay,” Melanee said with an indifferent shrug, but Solay could see something that looked like anger in her eyes.

S
he was so fuckin’ beautiful. His dick was rock hard and ready to burst. Though his eyes were closed, he could see her incredible, sexy body behind his eyes. He cupped her ass cheeks, tugging her closer, until his dick was embedded to the hilt.

Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he forced back the load that swelled his shaft.

She squirmed beneath him, urging him. Her moans were almost too much to bear; he pulled back and then deepened his stroke. Going hard. Disregarding self-control.

Getting a grip, he shook his head. He wasn’t ready. Desperately, his lips found hers. He put some tongue into the kiss, taking his mind off the juicy pussy that enveloped his dick. He stopped his stroke and lay motionless. Further movement would cause a premature eruption.

His mouth moved downward. He buried his face in her breasts, brushing his cheeks against the softness of her satiny skin. Licking, tasting. Lips hungrily surrounding the aching tips.

Overcome by her womanly softness, his dick throbbed urgently, straining for release. It took every ounce of his willpower to deny himself her womanly pleasure. She felt so good, so wet and creamy, he wanted to stay inside her forever. With a soft groan, he withdrew himself. Palms pressed against the mattress, he slithered downward until he was kissing her inner lips. Making her moan. Causing her to spread her legs in helpless invitation.

His tongue slashed between her thick folds, and thrust toward the tiny entrance to her sex. Inside her walls, he daringly explored the moist and softly padded confines. Her pussy clenched and spasmed around his gliding tongue.

“This is good pussy, baby. So sweet,” he uttered, as his finger began toying with her clit, creating unbearably pleasurable friction. He knew her body well. Could feel the pulse of an ongoing orgasm.

She writhed violently, her moans becoming shouts of pleasure. Her body bucked wildly. She cursed. She prayed. And then her womb spasmed in grateful relief.

And then she came.

It was his turn now. Sweat soaked her skin as he repositioned her languid body, pulling her to unsteady knees. He wanted to mount her… fuck her doggy style. One hand flat against her back, the other holding his swollen dick in his hand as he steered himself into her gently at first.
Good pussy,
he thought as he thrust with a pounding force, until he spurted his seed and collapsed. Drenched with perspiration, his chest molded to the curve of her back.

Good pussy motivated men to achieve their dreams. Good pussy was the reward for working your way through school and obtaining a college degree; it was the just desserts for making a good living and enduring the pressures that come with a successful career. Good pussy was constantly on his mind. But keeping this pussy happy was becoming next to impossible.

Chevonne shifted. “You’re smothering me, honey. Get up,” she said with a grunt.

Lincoln opened his eyes. He was back in his bedroom, no longer in paradise. He closed his eyes again, unprepared to return to the reality of his life.

A career in peril. A dying marriage. An unhappy wife.

T
hough Scandalicious faced busy South Street, Solay’s apartment could be accessed by a narrow side street. The cobblestone path was a pain in the ass when it came to parking, but for an unconventional date with a male escort, the isolation and privacy were appreciated. At the thump of the door knocker, Solay braced herself. She had no idea what kind of a freak was going to be standing on the other side of the door. She hoped her escort hadn’t shown up, dressed in some silly stripper costume.
Does it matter?
As long as the man had an erection and possessed stamina, his appearance, personality, and fashion sense were totally irrelevant.