Smooth Operator (18 page)

Lyfe rose from his seat and paced his office; he held his ringing cell phone in the palm of his hand. It was Payton. He sent her
to voice mail. He had too much on his mind to be entertaining her melodramatic, controlling-ass bullshit. He looked out the window and onto the street, seeing nothing that impressed him; his eyes roamed to the clock: four p.m.

Fuck.
He grabbed his coat and walked out of his office. “I’ll be back,” he threw over his shoulder to Arri. He wasn’t sure if she’d caught what he said or not, because she didn’t once turn away from her computer.

Jonathan Butler’s guitar filled the Shark Bar as Lyfe sat on the bar stool, sipping a glass of Hennessy and drifting deep into his thoughts. He looked into his drink and saw a snippet of Payton, a flashback of Arri, and a snapshot of the blue Caprice Classic that he had spotted in his rearview mirror as he drove over here. He closed his eyes and tried his best to make sense of all of this.

“You’re under arrest,” drifted sternly into his ears and caused him to jump. He quickly turned around and noticed a few men gathered at a table laughing and joking with one another. “This is too much,” Lyfe said to himself as he knocked off the rest of his drink and left.

The late winter wind whipped across Lyfe’s face as he entered the all-glass-enclosed lobby of his office building.

“Evening, Mr. Carrington,” the doorman said, and tipped his hat. “Another late night?”

“Pretty much.” Lyfe stepped onto the elevator. “Pretty much.”

As Lyfe approached the double glass doors of Anderson Global, he could see Arri’s curved back while she leaned into her computer. She held a pencil in her hand, tapping it against the side of her forehead.

“Arri?” He looked at her, surprised. “You’re still here?” he said as the doors swung closed behind him. “Why are you here so late?”

“I have some work to finish up for accounting,” she said, her voice clearly on edge.

“Accounting?”

“They asked me if I would mind compiling this report for them, since Donna is on maternity leave. Besides, I could use the overtime.”

“Yeah, but it’s after eight, you can finish that up tomorrow. I’m sure Zion’s waiting on you.”

“I have a sitter and I can lock up too, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I know you can lock up, I’m just saying—”

“You don’t need to say any more,” she snapped so hard and curt that Lyfe instantly took a step back.

He placed his hand on the sides of her rolling desk chair, and turned her toward him. “Let me know when you’re done having a fit, throwing a tantrum, or whatever you call it, so that I can hold a conversation with you.” He bent over and looked her directly in the eyes. “Ai’ight?”

“I don’t have fits and I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m doing my job.”

“So then, let’s get to the point. How long are you going to be upset with me?”

“Upset with you?” She batted her eyes. “About what?”

Lyfe chuckled. “Oh, so, is this the name of the game? Act as if the weekend we spent together didn’t exist.”

“Oh,” she said as if she were thinking, “we did spend a weekend together. Wasn’t that the one where you left and never said shit to me?”

“It wasn’t that easy for me to leave.”

“You could’ve said good-bye, take care, something; instead you treated me like you left money on the nightstand.”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“Look, we settled our curiosity by fucking last weekend. Cool, we can move on. I’ma do me and you do your Mrs.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Arri.”

“I don’t see how, when I just made it quite simple. What we had no longer exists.” She blew into the palm of her hand. “Poof, gone. Okay? No guilt, no hurt, and no misunderstandings.”

“So you’re not falling for me?” He pressed his forehead against hers. “That’s what you’re telling me?”

Silence. She wanted to belt out, “No,” but even the thought of such a lie burned her mouth.

“I fucked up,” Lyfe continued, “and I know that I’m married, I know. But it’s complicated.”

“I’m not into being a complication, so let’s just simply walk away.”

“But I’m too selfish of a motherfucker to do that. And I’m relentless as hell.”

“Well, that’s on you”—she dusted her hands together—“because I’m done.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that if I’m standing here telling you that no matter what I do or how hard I try to fight, I can’t help but fall for you—that means nothing to you?”

Silence.

“Answer me, and if you say it doesn’t, then I promise you I’ll never bring the shit up again.”

The only sounds that could be heard were the echoes of the copy machine’s motors burning. “Tell me.” He brushed her lips with his own. “Tell me something, because I wanna get back to laughing with you.” He kissed her again. “I wanna make you smile again.” He sucked her bottom lip. “When all is said and done …” he slipped his tongue into her mouth, “I wanna make love to you again.”

Arri hated that she was responding to his kisses. This was not the way she planned her response or had rehearsed it in her head. She was supposed to tell him to get the fuck out her face, stand on her heels, and leave him festering in his spot. But she didn’t and she couldn’t; instead, she allowed him to lift her from
the seat as she wrapped her legs around his waist and be carried to his office; where he pressed her back into the floor-to-ceiling window, with the evening skyline of the city resting behind her.

“I don’t know” were the only words she was able to formulate, as she watched him unbutton her blouse and line kisses over her shoulder. “I just …” she said, stopping for a moment to moan as he planted wet and sloppy kisses on her nipples. She wanted to stop his hands from roaming her body but she couldn’t get her mouth to stop moaning as she melted into his tongue kissing her breasts. “Lyfe … I can’t.” She watched the tip of his tongue flick against both of her nipples and then bite them slightly, making her mouth hang open and her pussy cream in preparation of his tongue, his dick, or both.

“Shhh …” he said as he slid to his knees, and opened the eyes of her pussy. “Look at this pretty pussy.” He slid his tongue over her clit. “I want you to watch me make this pussy melt.”

“Mmm, Lyfe …” she moaned, watching him suck, nibble, pull, and pop her cherry in his mouth. She could feel her pearl turning to Jell-O as he twirled it between his lips and then sucked it as if he were trying to get to the center of hard candy. Never had she felt or ever dreamed that her sex would be eaten with such intensity. Hell, maybe he needed to fuck up again, if this is what came along with his apologies.

Her eyes drifted closed. The electrified licks to her clit forced her to dream of marriage, kids, him sucking her body into a double nut over and over again.

“As wet as this pussy is, you gon’ tell me you’re not falling for me. Who the hell gon’ believe that?”

Lyfe licked, as Arri gripped his shoulders and his tongue moved deeper and deeper through her creamy trenches. She reached for his beard and pulled his face up to her own, greeting his lips with a silky kiss.

Lyfe picked Arri up and carried her to his desk, where he
lifted her onto it, knocking everything on it—stacks of unreturned phone messages, files, Payton’s picture, and the wooden plaque engraved with his name—to the floor. Her skirt rose over her ass and their fingers entangled as they both pulled her panties off and he tossed them to the floor. Hurriedly she unbuckled his pants and revealed his hardness.

“I’ll never hurt you again.” He opened her legs like scissors and brushed the head of his dick against her wetness. Slowly he pushed into her warm flesh, while taking his hands and caressing her breasts; he loved the feel of her nipples between his fingers.

His meat was hot, and hard, and heavy as Arri squeezed her velvet walls.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Lyfe moved his body like a monstrous chocolate wave as he soared into her. “You forgive me?”

Silence.

“Did you hear me? I said I was sorry.”

More silence.

“Oh, you’re not answering me.” He held her legs straight up in the air.

“Yes … oh God,” she screamed as he rocked in and out of her.

“Not God, baby; He didn’t apologize, I did.”

“Wait,” she gasped, and her mouth flew open with every word. “Wait, maybe …” Arri moaned, “maybe we should—”

“Should what?” Lyfe stroked. “ ’Cause you know I’m not stopping.”

“But the office door is wide open.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He threw her a hard hip and she started to scream again. “Make ’em lose their fuckin’ minds!”

Arri paused, his mind-blowing strokes were on a mission to enter her stomach, her chest heaved up and down as she screamed out, “Lyfe!”

“That’s right, tell ’em what the fuck my name is, I don’t give a
damn.” He flipped her over, her ass faced his shaft, and his pipe dripped with heavy cream. He bent his head down and started eating her pussy again. He sucked her damp and luscious lips, licking between her ass cheeks, and then back to her clit, where his tongue served it with zillions of chills. It was all Arri could do to stay balanced on all fours and not tip over the side of the desk.

“Lyfe,” she moaned, “fuck.”

He slowed his licking down and began sucking her pussy slowly. “The left side,” she instructed, as he began to lick the left side with all that he had. It was as if his tongue was a dick, soaring through her wet pussy with chilling meticulousness. “Lyfe!!!!!!” she screamed, biting the side of her right fist.

Lyfe flipped Arri back over and he could tell by the look on her face that her mind was in a different place. He kissed her titties roughly as they bounced in his face. “I asked you a question.” He smacked her on the ass. “Do you forgive me?”

“Lyfe—”

“What?” He pounded her with his dick.

Doing all she could not to scream, Arri said, “I can’t …”

“Oh you can’t?” He pounded her pussy harder than ever before, the swift motions of his hips were sounding like a wet towel soaring through the air. Arri knew when they were done it would be impossible to walk.

Lyfe pounded her over and over again, driving his point from her throbbing middle to the pit of her stomach. “Can’t isn’t an option.”

He soared in and out of her until all she had left was the truth. “I forgive you.”

Lyfe let out a sigh of relief, as he held on to Arri and she held on to him and they exchanged orgasms.

Arri stroked Lyfe down the center of his chest and said, “Lyfe—”

“Shh …” He kissed her on the forehead. “All I need you to do is trust me.”

Arri hesitated; she thought of a thousand responses that she could give him, things she could say, but looking into his eyes, she could see the same look he must have had on the block, before the boardrooms and business suits. She saw a certain level of confidence with only a slight tinge of fear.

“Why should I trust you?” She looked him clearly in the eyes.

“Because I need you to. And I don’t have no long explanation, no speeches, nothing elequent to say other than I’ve never felt like this. Ever.”

“But in the end, what does that mean?”

“Just roll with me, Arri.” He paused, “Just roll with me.”

“R
un away with me,” Lyfe whispered in Arri’s ear, as she turned over in bed and looked into his face. She stretched and then wrapped her arms around his neck.

“What are you talking about, run away where? There’s no
where
to go. Besides, I have to take Zion to school and go to work. We can run away tomorrow, it’s Saturday.”

“Zion should go to school.” Lyfe kissed Arri on the neck and pulled her on top of him, “But you can take today off.” He placed his hands on her hips.

“I don’t have any time to use like that. Zion has asthma and I was out a lot when he was sick—”

“It’s okay.” He smiled.

“I don’t know if I should call out—”

“You wanna call out? Call out to me. I’m the boss.”

Arri paused; he
was
the boss.

“Plus I wanna take you somewhere,” Lyfe continued.

Arri smiled, “Where?”

“When’s the last time you’ve been out of New York?”

“The last time I was in New Jersey.” She laughed.

“No, silly,” he kissed her, “I mean when’s the last time you’ve been in the midst of the sea, on an island. Just gone somewhere and chilled. It’s a whole world out there—”

“And what, you wanna give it to me?”

“Yeah … I do.”

“All right.” Arri turned around and slid down Lyfe’s chest in a sixty-nine position. “Right after this.”

He opened her pussy lips and licked in between. “Yeah, you’re right, right after this.”

“Where are you taking me?” Arri smiled as Lyfe turned left into a small airport. “You know I have to come back home and get my baby, right?” she joked. “Khris only agreed to keep him overnight.”

“I know.” Lyfe laughed as he parked the car and then walked around to open her door. “We’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon.” He took Arri by the hand and led her to the small plane he’d chartered to take them on a mini excursion.

“I want you to do something for me.” Lyfe looked into Arri’s eyes.

“What’s that?” She twisted her lips.

“It’s legal.” He laughed.

“It better be.” She giggled, feeling like a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl who’d just cut class to be with her boyfriend.

Arri wanted desperately to forget Lyfe’s circumstances; but as she looked around at the private jet, the runway, the packed Louis Vuitton luggage he surprised her with, she remembered that he had a wife and that technically this was all her shit. “Are you sure that we should … be … you know, here like this?”

“Listen to me, for once. For this one time if at no other time, I want you to chill with me. Simply chill. Nothing else exists except for this moment and the time we have ahead of us on our trip. I want you to see what it is to get out of your circumstances, to not be drowned out and beat up by life and shit that just doesn’t seem to stop. I just want you to enjoy me … and enjoy
this. Don’t worry about nothing else. Tomorrow when we return to Earth,” he gave her a sexy wink, “we’ll think about it then.”