Scandalicious (33 page)

“Aw, I’m touched that you went to so much trouble. But I can’t accept your money. We all make mistakes sometimes. I had extras, anyway. It was no big deal. Seriously.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled, but her eyes were sad. Lincoln wondered why.

“Everyone at work raved about the cupcakes, so while I’m here let me grab a half-dozen.”

Solay arched a brow.

“Not for me! Since I’m here, I might as well pick up dessert for my kids,” he added with laughter.

She laughed with him, but there was something wrong. Behind
her smile was pain. Raw pain was apparent in her eyes. But it wasn’t any of his business, and so he paid for the cupcakes, gave a hand wave and left.

Having squared away business with Solay, his conscience was clear. Checking his watch, Lincoln walked briskly, eager to get his car out of the expensive garage.

“I
t looks like the deal isn’t going to go through,” Colden told Melanee.

“What deal?” Melanee asked, feeling slightly nervous.

“The deal with Madam.”

“Oh.” Melanee’s breath caught in her chest.

“She’s a fickle person. She’s going to be traveling back and forth to Toronto. She said that she doesn’t have the time to train you.”

“I see,” Melanee said, with a tiny smile.

“Madam Midnight has her hands in everything. Her latest interest is the film industry.”

“Is Madam starting an acting career?”

“No. She’s producing movies. But it’s just a phase. Like everything else, she’ll grow bored with the film industry. Residential and commercial real estate is her real bread and butter. Everything else is just a hobby.”

Though she’d pretended that she didn’t really want to go to Madam, she suspected that Colden had known all along that she was infatuated with the enigmatic woman. Madam mesmerized everyone, which was why she had a revolving door of willing submissives.

Melanee could tell that Colden had been secretly jealous of her infatuation with Madam. That jealousy had prompted him to become a more attentive master.

Melanee was relieved that she had rediscovered her fierce desire for Colden before she went traipsing off to Madam’s house. What
would she have done if she’d lost her precious master? The night that he’d decorated her ass with his hand prints, had been a turning point in their relationship, bringing them closer together—making them both realize they were perfect for each other.

“With Madam out of the picture, there’s no reason for us to be apart.”

Melanee’s heartbeat picked up. “There isn’t?”

“No, I think you’ve learned your lesson. Do you think that you can be obedient around the clock?”

“Yes, Master!”

“Pack your things; you’re coming back home tonight.”

“Thank you, Master!” Melanee shouted. Her mind was spinning with delightful visions of being spanked, leashed and collared, and tied up for hours.

It was a half-hour until closing. Both Melanee and Vidal had already gone for the day. Behind the counter, Solay observed the customers that were seated throughout the dining area. Couples. Groups of friends. Coworkers unwinding after an eight-hour day. The harmonic tones of the intermingled conversations reverberated around the room. Pleasant chatter, and scatters of easy laughter from happy people, seemingly without a care.

Solay envied her customers’ peace of mind—their satisfaction with their lives. Her life was shit. Love was the worst thing that could happen to a woman. Love was disruptive, all consuming, destined to end in heartache.

Deon and that woman. He’d been lying to her all along. On the verge of tears, she was jolted back to her professional demeanor when a patron approached the counter. “Two Red Hot Passions,” a pretty blonde-haired woman requested.

“To go?” Solay asked hopefully. She was ready to close up shop, and acquiesce to another round of self-pity and mournful sobbing.

“No, they’re for here. The vibe here is amazing.”

“Oh, thank you.” Solay forced a painful smile as she placed the cupcakes on two small, red paper plates.

“I’m on a blind date—an Internet hook-up,” the woman added, nodding over to her table where another female sat. “I have to tell you, the ambience is terrific—sensual and kinky…I love it.”

Solay was surprised to see that the blind date was a woman. She found it particularly curious that the date was also thin, blonde, and pretty—a darker blonde version of the woman at the counter. And judging from her dreamy expression, she was pleased with the hookup, too.

What was going on in the dating world? Women were hooking up with women who bore a close resemblance to themselves. Was it so hard to make a heterosexual relationship work that women were turning to their virtual clones for intimacy?

The last few customers left at six-thirty—a half-hour before closing. It had been a long day; Solay wasn’t in the emotional shape to exchange pleasantries with any more patrons. She put the “closed” sign in the window and began straightening up.

She wiped off the tables in the dining room, holding back tears as she rushed through the task. She’d been coping with an aching heart all day, masking her pain as best she could as she interacted with patrons and staff. Now she yearned to mourn in private. In the solitude of her little apartment, she could freely shed a rivulet of tears.

Before turning off the lights, and going upstairs, she checked the kitchen, making sure that it was in pristine, clean condition. She heard the bell jingle, and sucked her teeth.
Pests!
she said to herself, picking up on Vidal’s expression. Despite the “closed” sign in the window, someone was trying the doorknob, causing the
overhead bell to jingle a refrain. Her first thought was to hide out in the kitchen until the pesky customer went away.

But the bell sounded again. Solay sighed, and stalked out of the kitchen, hoping she could keep a civil tone when she turned the customer away.

Her heart dropped. It wasn’t a cupcake-craving patron on the other side of the glass door. Deon was peering into Scandalicious, radiating warmth, love, and a heavy dose of sensuality.

D
eon was holding his motorcycle helmet in his hands, wearing a black leather jacket and black leather driving gloves. It was a damn disgrace that one man could possess all the traits that Deon had going on. A hot body, succulent lips, gorgeous face, and he made love like a porn star.

She unlocked and yanked the door open. “Why are you here?” she said coldly.

“We need to talk.” He reached for her hand; she snatched it back as if scorched.

“There’s nothing to say,” she hissed.

“I know how it must have looked…but can I explain?”

“No,” she said exasperated. “I’m tired of all your convenient excuses. Go away, Deon. Go be with your wealthy socialite; I don’t care anymore.” She turned away and headed for the kitchen.

“Baby, baby, baby…” He rushed behind her, following her through the set of swinging kitchen doors. “Hear me out. For one minute! That’s all I’m asking.”

She kept walking until she reached the sink. Not knowing what else to do, she picked up a sponge, deciding to wipe the metal tables that were already sparkling clean.

With her back turned to Deon, Solay spoke. “I don’t…want to hear…any more…of your bullshit,” she said, her words separated by gasps, sniffles, and little whimpers.

He came up behind her, gently touched her shoulder, coaxing her to turn around.

It was the tenderness of his touch that caused her to completely lose her composure. She sucked in a huge backdraft of air, filling her lungs and swelling her chest, followed by an anguished wail.

Holding her, caressing her, comforting her as her body caved into his, Deon was wracked by her raw, gut-wrenching, uncontrollable sobs.

Deon murmured in her ear. “Let it out, baby. I’m so sorry. Go ahead, cry. I gotchu. I swear I never meant to hurt you.”

Finally, Solay calmed down enough to form coherent speech. “Why did you lie and tell me you had an audition in New York?”

“I did, and I got the part!”

“I don’t understand. You said you’d call me if you got the part, but instead, you went out with a client.”

“She wasn’t a client, Solay. Her name is Quintouria Stevens. She’s one of the executive producers of the film. Instead of staying in New York and auditioning for the commercial, my agent wanted me to come back to Philly and go to that charity event with the three producers. It’s called schmoozing, babe. That’s all I was doing.”

Solay let out a long sigh. “I’m really happy for you, Deon. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. And what’s up with you—showcasing your cupcakes at that event? What was that—top secret? Why’d you keep something like big from me?”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was busy trying to make it happen, and I never got around to telling you.”

“That makes sense.”

“So where do we go from here, Deon? Is this relationship permanently damaged? Do you think there’s a future with us?”

“I hope so. But I have to tell you something.” There was a sad look in his eyes.

“What?”

“We start shooting soon. I’m leaving for Toronto tomorrow, and I’ll be there for the next three months.”

“Three months in Toronto!” Her hand pressed against her mouth. Her eyes were wide with startled hurt.

“We have to do the long distance thing. Ninety days—that’s not so long,” Deon soothed.

Solay nodded, hoping that Deon was right. It was ironic that they were back together but also had to say goodbye. “What time is your flight?”

“Tomorrow at two.”

So soon?
Anxiety clawed at her. “Do you want to come upstairs?” she asked nervously.

Deon answered with a smile.

Reunited in the bedroom, they tore at each other’s clothes. Panting…growling…perspiring. Naked, they fucked like animals. Standing up against the bedroom door, seated in a chair, doggy-style on the floor.

On the bed now, their bodies crashed and collided, almost brutally. Duel emotions fueled their passion…a combination of welcome-back sex and a farewell fuck at the same time.