A Weekend Affair (16 page)

“What?” I asked.

“I'm just having a good time is all,” she said, attempting to cover up as she changed her clothes.

“I don't know why you're doing that now,” I chided. “I've already seen your goods,” I said playfully, taking off my clothes.

I could have sworn I made her blush. We both put our clothes neatly on the two chairs at opposite ends of the small room. Just as we climbed onto the massage tables and covered ourselves with the sheets provided, we heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Shell said.

Miranda and Rob reentered the room, closing the door behind them. “Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, you're in for a real treat. Our couple's massage is a classic therapeutic, Swedish-style massage that uses light to moderate touch performed in synchronized unison. When we're done, you'll be left feeling relaxed, refreshed, and rejuvenated. Now, for your music, would you prefer New Age, classical, or smooth jazz?”

“Smooth jazz, thank you,” I replied.

“Okay, well, let's get started.”

I wasn't really one for getting a massage, but after the past few months I had, I needed something to relax. As Miranda worked her magic, I started to feel my stress fade away, all the bullshit in my life taking a backseat for the moment. Before closing my eyes, I looked over at Shell. She already had her eyes closed. She looked very peaceful.

Before I knew it, I heard a bell go off indicating the end of our session.

“Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, our time is up. On behalf of Rob and myself, we would like to thank you for staying at the Omni,” Miranda said. “We don't need the room for another thirty minutes, so please feel free to take your time getting dressed. Enjoy the rest of your stay.”

With that, she and Rob exited, leaving Shell and me alone.

I sat up, then climbed down from the massage table, walked to the chair containing my clothes, and pulled out my wallet, placing a twenty-dollar bill in the envelopes sitting on each work table. Shell finally rose, looking very relaxed. She took a long stretch, causing the sheet she was wrapped in to fall lower on her breasts. I walked over to her.

“Feeling good?” I asked.

“Very good,” she replied, a look of contentment on her face.

“I can make you feel even better. Let me give you a happy ending,” I said, pulling the sheet down further, fully exposing her abundant breasts. I placed my hands over each nipple, massaging them.

“Carl, we can't. They'll be back soon,” she said, her body betraying her, as she closed her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“We have thirty minutes. That's plenty of time,” I said.

One hand still fondled her breasts, while the other reached under the sheet. Using my knee, I parted her thighs, then ran a finger up and down her damp slit. When I inserted it between her folds, it caused her to hiss. My thumb ran across her clit. Her head went back as she bit her bottom lip. I continued to caress her breasts, all the while finger fucking her and teasing her clit. I could tell by the way her pussy was starting to pulse that she was going to come soon.

I wanted to put my dick inside her so badly my balls ached. We didn't have enough time for that now, but we would later.

I leaned in close, whispering in her ear, “Has your husband ever made you feel this?”

“What?” She opened her eyes, a confused look on her face.

I looked her squarely in the eyes. “You heard me. Has your husband ever made you feel like this?”

“Yes . . . well, no,” she panted.

I inserted another finger and quickened my strokes.

“That's what I thought. When you get back home and you're in your bed at night, I want you to remember who made you feel like this, remember who made your pussy wet like this,” I baited. I felt her walls contract as she buried her face in my chest, stifling her screams of passion. “And remember who made you come like this.”

I only stopped once her body stopped shaking. When she was done, I removed my fingers from her sopping wet pussy, lifting her chin up with my other hand. I kissed her slowly.

“Now, get dressed,” I told her, just as everything went dark.

A blackout? I couldn't believe it. I rushed to put my clothes back on. One of the masseuses had come back in to inform us of the power outage in the hotel. My lady parts were soaking wet because Carl had decided to play hide-and-seek with his fingers inside of me.

“Don't panic,” Carl said to me. “A place like this should have backup generators or something.”

“I'm not panicking. I just need to be sure Gabby's okay.”

“Why wouldn't she be? She's with Diego.”

“What's that mean? I still need to be sure she's okay.”

I could hear Carl's belt buckle clinking as he pulled his pants on. Since the massage room had little candles lit about, we weren't in total blackness. Once dressed, he took my hand and led me from the room. I liked that about Carl. He was always in control. Never seemed flustered. Even though he made it known his marriage was on the rocks, he didn't seem fazed.

“Why not just use your cell?”

“It's dead.”

“Diego and I are on the same floor. When we get to the room, we can call his room to see if she's there. Cool?” he asked me as we made our way to the elevators.

It took us a minute to get on as the elevator line was long and the electricity was out so the line wasn't moving. By the time the lights had come back up, the staff of the Omni was walking around apologizing for the inconvenience, assuring everyone that they had everything covered. We hopped on the elevator with about seven other people. It was a tight squeeze. Carl stood against the back wall and pulled me against him. I felt a little flushed. I could feel his manhood pressed against my back. One arm was wrapped around my waist like I belonged to him.

Shell, what in hell are you doing?
I asked myself.

I had no answers for the questions floating around in my head. All I knew in that moment was that Carl's protective hold felt good to me. It made me feel safe. It had been awhile since Malik had held me that way. The elevator dinged for the fifth floor. Carl and I waited for everyone else to get off before we did. We walked hand in hand down the hall.

“How old are you?” I asked him out of the blue.

He looked down at me. “Forty. Why?”

Both my brows rose. “You're forty?”

I looked him up and down. Damn, forty was looking like that these days? I thought. I guess the old adage good black don't crack was real.

“Yes, I am. Why?”

“No reason.”

“You got a problem with me now that you know I'm close to fifty?”

“Nope. I like my men with a little wisdom on them.”

He glanced at me. “Oh yeah?”

I nodded. “Gabby always picks on me about it. She asked how I ended up married to Malik.”

“I surmise Malik is younger than you?”

Shaking my head, I answered, “No. We're the same age. He's just a few months older.”

“So being with an older man has never been an issue for you?”

“Not at all. Something about the age difference that makes the time we spend together more intense.”

Carl quirked a brow at me, then smiled.

I giggled a bit and shook my head as he pulled out the electronic key card and slid it into the sleek door slot. The light flashed green, and he pushed the door open to let me walk in first. We had been to the room earlier, but I didn't have a chance to fully take in the room's atmosphere since we were in and out. The room was cool and looked as if it was bigger than my two-bedroom townhome back home. The brown and cream carpet brought out the mocha-colored walls. A burnt-orange chaise with an ottoman sat in front of the glass sliding doors next to a round chocolate wood grain dining table. A square coffee table of the same color sat in front of a burnt-orange sofa. Cream-colored curtains were pulled to the side, showcasing the downpour of rain outside.

The door to the bedroom was open, and I could see the king-size bed had been made. White sheets that looked to be of the highest quality could be seen pulled down and neatly folded over the down comforter. The bed made me want to dive in and sleep away my adulterous ways.

Carl's laptop and electronic tablet sat on the desk by the big flat-screen TV. A pen and a notepad right next to that. I was impressed with the room. The studio-style suite made me wonder what it would be like to live in luxury all the time. I wondered if the day would come when I would ever know what it would feel like not to worry about money.

“You can put your stuff in the closet if you like,” Carl said to me.

I nodded and asked, “Hey, will you call Diego to see if Gabby is with him?”

I dropped my bags on the couch and rifled through them, still shocked at the prices on some of the stuff Carl splurged on. Shit, the capris were a hundred and five bucks. For that price, I could get me, Leianni, and Hassan a few outfits. The man was fooling. Spending that much money on clothing seemed asinine to me. The dress he liked so much cost a whopping $200. I had a good mind to take that sucker back.

“Yeah, they did take too long to get the backup generators on. Actually, they should have kicked in immediately,” I heard Carl say.

I hopped up and walked into the bedroom. “Gabby with him?” I asked, assuming he was talking to his friend Diego.

He nodded, then told Diego, “Put Gabby on. Shell wants to make sure she's okay.”

I eagerly took the phone just as Gabby answered, “Hello.”

“You okay?” I wanted to know.

“I'm fine. Meet me in the hall for a second.”

“Okay.”

I handed the phone back to Carl. Told him I'd be back.

“Where are you going?”

“Just out in the hall to talk to Gabby.”

I rushed out and saw Gabby coming from the opposite end of the hall. I couldn't tell what mood she was in just by looking at her. She had her arms folded as it was a bit chilly and had on an oversized tee shirt that I was sure didn't belong to her. Her face was glowing. Although there was no smile on her face, her eyes were shining.

“You okay?” she asked me as she approached.

“I'm good. You get stuck in the restaurant when the lights went out?”

She shook her head. “Was taking the stairs because the lines were too long at the elevator.”

I smiled. “You and Diego clicking?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Just keeping him company until you come to your senses with Carl.”

I chuckled lightly. “You act as if I'm about run off with the man.”

“No,
you
act as if you are.”

“Just enjoying the moment.”

“I can see that.”

I chose not to comment on her sarcastic tone and noticed her hair was wet. I asked her about it. She told me she'd gone out in the rain and sat in the cabana with Diego until the rain and wind got to be too much. We stood there laughing and talking a bit. I was doing it to stave off some of the sexual energy Carl had riled up in me.

“So, Diego and I were sitting at the bar talking, and he tells me something interesting about your weekend lover,” she said.

Just like my interest piqued, so did the nervousness that had crept up on me.

“Oh God, what is it? He isn't gay, is he?”

Gabby laughed as she shook her head. “No, but, according to Diego, you'd be one on the short list of black women he's ever shown interest in.”

My brows furrowed. “Say what?”

“Diego told me that Carl is one of those black men who seem to find his thrill in dating non-black women.”

“So that would mean his wife isn't black.”

“We can safely assume that.”

I shook my head and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I didn't know how to feel about that tidbit of info. People often called me pro-black because I loved being black. Nothing was more powerful to me than being black and proud. I didn't have anything against interracial dating. I believed love could transcend color. But I did have a problem with the stigmas that came with black men dating “other.”

Gabby and I talked a bit more. She wanted to know if I'd planned to stay the night with Carl even if the rain decided to let up.

“Was thinking about it,” I told her.

She quirked a brow, then frowned. “How did this go from being a girls' weekend out to you carrying on a weekend affair with a married man?”

“If he'd been single would you be okay with it?”

“No, because we came to get away from men.”

I shrugged with a smile. “So, either way, you'd have a problem with it. It's a lose-lose situation.”

“Yeah, for me. You're leaving me with no other choice but to share a room with Diego.”

“I'm still trying to figure how that is a bad thing, especially since you've already popped the pussy for him.”

“Ugh. Goodness, Shell. You don't have to be so crass.”

“I'm just saying. Quit fronting like you're not enjoying yourself.”

“I didn't say I wasn't. I'm saying I wanted to spend time, chill, kick back, and relax with my girl, but she's too busy popping
her
coochie for Carl.”

We both looked at each other and cracked up. I loved Gabby and would always take her advice to heart. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I didn't care to be right at the moment. I liked the feeling of being pampered and being catered to. Loved the way Carl moved against me when he was inside of me. I had a craving for his sensual foreplay again. Carl was giving me an erotic escapade that I was sure I'd never experience again in my life. And better yet, I loved the distraction he created. Besides, after tonight, I'd never see him again.

“I know I'm wrong,” I told Gabby.

She held her hands up. “I'm not here to judge. I'm here to be the voice of reason.”

“I know, and I love you for it, but I like pretending to be the wife of a man who pays $200 for one dress.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, it's okay for Carl to pay for things you can't afford, but when I offer—”

“Don't even go there. You know why I declined your offer.”

She mumbled, “Whatever.”

“Anyway. I need to go shower because Carl decided to be nasty in the spa room.” I cast a knowing glance at her. “Care to explain why you're wearing Diego's shirt?”

She looked down like she just realized she was wearing the tee shirt that was swallowing her whole.

“Oh,” she said flipping her hand off. “My shirt got wet when we went to the cabana. He offered one of his.”

I wasn't so sure I believed her. “The Omni Boutique is downstairs. It's a bit expensive, but you can grab another shirt there.”

She nodded. “Okay. You go shower, and I'll check the store out.”

“Let me know if you want to leave in all seriousness. I won't force you to stay just because I want to be a whore.”

Gabby laughed. “Go on, Shell. I need to get to this boutique to see what they have.”

“Okay,” I said laughing with her.

I walked back in the room to hear the shower already going. I saw a phone charger in the wall and hoped that it would fit mine. Luck was on my side. I hooked my phone up and waited for it to power on.

I looked up just as Carl was walking around the corner, and my breath caught in my throat. He was still wet. A white bath towel was wrapped around his waist as water trickled down his sculpted chest and abs. That white sat out in stark contrast to the chocolate skin he'd been blessed with. His locs rocked and swayed around his shoulders as he looked at me. He didn't have his glasses on, so I got to see those liquid black eyes with no filter.

“You talk to your girl?” he asked me.

I nodded because I couldn't speak. Carl's dark skin was hypnotizing. His eyes pulled me in further into his web of lust. At that point, I didn't give a damn who he was married to or why he'd married her.

“Everything okay with her?”

I answered, “Yes, she's fine.”
And so are you,
I quipped mentally.

“Cool. You can shower if you want. I'm hungry so I'm going to order up room service. What do you have in mind to eat?” he asked as he walked over to the table to pick up the room service menu from the restaurant downstairs.

“Steak,” I said as I eyed him hungrily.

He looked over at me and smirked, like he picked up on the silent innuendo I'd thrown out.

“Later,” was how he answered.

“In that case, I'll have whatever you're having.”

He nodded. I got up to shower. As I adjusted the water to the hottest I could stand it, I thought about what would happen after the weekend was over. Carl would go back to his life in New York, and I'd go back to being an unhappily married woman whose husband had cheated and walked out on her. I didn't ask for much. All I wanted was for Malik to be a bit more supportive and attentive. I wanted him to see how I took pride in being his wife. Wanted him to see all the work I put into keeping a home for him and our children. I needed him to acknowledge the fact I was going to school and writing so our kids could have a better upbringing than we had growing up. It was not because I didn't want to spend time with him or be his wife.

I sighed and let the water wash over me as I pulled my braids up into a bun. I took the sponge and washed over my skin. Then I picked up a white washcloth to clean my woman parts. I was all into humming a made-up tune when Carl walked into the bathroom. I watched him snatch the towel from his waist. I couldn't help it. My eyes latched on to what made him a man anatomically.