The Charade (19 page)

“What’s wrong with working at a donut shop?”

“His job is important to him. Work is his life.”

“
You
should be his life.” She poked my thigh with her red fingernail.

“He’s a company man.”

Chandra sighed heavily. “I thought you said he didn’t get the promotion?”

“He didn’t.”

“Then why is he still working like he’s up for one.”

“Chandra, he’s just dedicated.”

“You just said a bunch of bullshit. You know that?” She got up and kissed me on my cheek. “But I still love you. Happy birthday, sweetie.” She put on her coat and walked towards the door, but stopped when she realized I wasn’t following her. “You coming?”

“No. I’m going to wait. He said he’d be here in twenty minutes.”

Chandra slightly nodded her head. Her look said she didn’t believe me – or him.

I sat at the table alone, looking out the window at every happy couple walking by arm in arm or hand in hand.

I fiddled with the chopsticks and then threw them on the floor.

The tears flowed. I looked in the window, my reflection showed black mascara colored tears smeared down my face.

I got home a little after eleven and Tyson waited for me at my door. I had no words for him. He held a giant teddy bear in his arms.

I didn’t look in his eyes.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he said. “I came to the restaurant as soon as I left my clients.” I said nothing and put my key into the doorknob. “Tiny. I’m sorry. Please.” He clearly looked like he acknowledged he messed up. He grabbed me by my arm, but I yanked it back and I rushed inside. “You’re not gonna at least let me in?” I scowled at him and then I shut the door in his face. I swung the door open and yanked the teddy bear out of his hands and shut the door back. I planted my back to the door and slowly slid down on the floor. I wrapped my arms around my legs, lowered my head between my knees and balled.

Tyson stayed outside my door for what seemed like another thirty odd minutes pleading his case.

“Tyson, we’re done. You know how much my birthday means to me,” I said to him from behind the door. My voice enhanced to a weep. “You’ve always known it. I shouldn’t have even had to remind you.”

I opened the door.

“Tiny, please-.” He tried to hug me, but I stepped away.

“No, don’t touch me. I feel dirty…and I can’t do this anymore.”

“Natasha, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” His eyes welled up. “I would’ve expected this from some other guy.” My throat tightened as a tear fell from my chin. “But not you.” I swung the door shut in his face.

***

I sat in the bathtub. I cried so much I couldn’t tell the difference between the sound of my tears falling from my face onto the water and the leaky faucet. A few candles adorned the edge of the tub. The lavender scent mixed with the steam of the water. The tiny flames flickered and danced back and forth. I had trouble relaxing even in a soothing bathtub.

I woke up the next morning and stayed home from work – something I never did. I couldn’t risk bumping into Tyson.

I moped around the house all day, wearing my pajamas, drinking tea, and making a playlist of sad breakup songs on my laptop.

Tyson sent dozens of voicemails and texts – I didn’t bother to return them. Flowers were delivered. I didn’t bother to read the cards. I knew it was an empty apology.

After a late dinner, chinese takeout, I took another bath.

I sat in the tub and read a book I meant to catch up on. I read the same paragraph five times in a row.

I couldn’t focus.

I never thought Tyson of all people would miss my birthday. Even my father - who didn’t stay with my mom and me and rarely visited me - never missed a birthday when I was younger. He’d be gone the other three hundred sixty four days out of the year, but always was present on my birthday. He’d show up drunk or high, but he’d be there. I had more times with Tyson than my father and he didn’t show.

Tyson always kept his word. He changed. He used to joke about people getting their degree and ‘turning corporate’. Cubicle jockeys were what he used to call them. Said he’d never turn in to that. I didn’t care what a guy did for a living, as long as he treated me right. As long as he put me first.

Usually after a nice, hot bath I drifted right into sleep. I tossed and turned for an hour, rustling my sheets and constantly flipping my pillow over to be more comfortable. No luck.

I got up and sat on the chair in the corner of the living room and cracked open a book of poetry. It was my go to charm for making me sleepy. I steeped a cup of chamomile tea and read stanza after stanza and my eyes still never got heavy. I couldn’t get Tyson out of my head. Victor too, surprisingly. He seemed like his life was spiraling downward. Though he and I weren’t anything but sexual, I still had feelings for him. My Aunt Sarah said you never can just fuck a guy – sooner or later somebody is going to have feelings.

I had to find someway to sleep that night, so I did what I always did when Mr. Sandman didn’t bring me a dream. I grabbed my black yoga pants and a black, long sleeved athletic shirt, laced up my tennis shoes, and went for a midnight run. Weird to some, but a good run in the crisp, night’s air, under the moon always knocked me out afterwards. Thirty minutes would do. Get my heart pumping, take another shower, and then for sure, I’d be out like a light.

I downloaded a few new tunes on my phone and put my fitness monitor on my wrist. I got about half a mile into my run when my phone rang. It startled me, so much that I nearly tripped over a bump in the concrete.

I didn’t recognize the number.

I stopped dead in my tracks and answered the phone, sucking oxygen into my lungs. It was Midtown Receiving Hospital. Victor St. James was in an accident.

Chapter 14

I rushed up to Victor’s room, every limb in my body trembled, especially my legs, but they didn’t stop until they reached him. I didn’t know what to expect.

What condition would he be in? How bad was the accident? Why did I of all people get a call?

I flew into the room to see him stretched out on the bed. Still in a black leather jacket, jeans, and black sneakers. He lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

I stood at the edge of the bed, hesitant to touch him. I wanted to embrace him, to touch him, but was afraid to touch him in the slightest manner. His eyes were hesitant fall upon me. They jutted all around at the room. At the monitor. At the IV. At the cup of water on the tray. Everything except me. As if he was embarrassed to be seen that way.

“Can I hug you?” I said, gingerly sliding towards him. My fingers touched his leg gently.

“You better,” he said chuckling. I wrapped my arms around.

The nurse walked into the room. Her skin was pale and she had red lipstick. I wouldn’t be surprised if Victor flirted with her; traumatized from a near death and all. “This man here should be lucky to be alive,” she said. “Girlfriend? Wife?” She snickered to herself. “Mistress?”

“Friend,” I shot back.

“Well, your friend must have somebody
up there
looking out for him.”

Despite being in a motorcycle accident he looked spotless. Except for a few nicks and scratches and a couple of stitches on his hand, he was fine. Couldn’t have been luckier. From what he described of the accident, he should’ve been dead or at least paralyzed from the neck down.

His vitals were checked and they recommended him to stay at least until noon, but he demanded to be released.

As Victor filled out paperwork, I pulled the nurse aside. “How was it that I got a call from the hospital?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “You were listed as his I.C.E.,” she said.

“I.C.E.?”

“His in case of emergency.” My lips parted in shock. “Once he regained consciousness, you were all he talked about.”

***

“Why are we going to a hotel? Why don’t you just let me take you home?” I asked Victor as I parked my car in front of the Prather Hotel downtown.

His face turned to me swiftly. “No.” His eyes could melt stone. “I-I can’t go home. I just cant.”

“Victor, I’ve known you for a while. I work for you. We’ve been intimate.” I exhaled deeply. His gaze continued out the windshield. “I only get hotels with you. You’ve never invited me to your place. I don’t know
where
you live.”

“It’s not you.” His voice was shrill. “Natasha, I don’t like being alone. I have this amazing home. The size of a small hotel. And I hate it. It’s gated. Isolated. It’s just me there. I like hotels better. To know someone is near you, even if you don’t know them, is comforting. I don’t like being alone.”

He didn’t look like he was stable at all.

“Who does?”

“Not like that. Everybody says that. I don’t have anyone to come home to. I’m realizing this now. I finally understand where you were coming from all along. Sex, it’s fickle. It’s not substantial. Times like these you realize who’s close to you and who’s not. Even though we’ve had our differences.”

“Victor, you don’t have to apologize to me.”

“Look, I’ve realized a lot of things. A lot. You see things more clearer when things happen in your life.”

“Pain brings clarity.”

“
Much
needed clarity.”

“You realize the people who matter most. It means a great deal to me that I can reach out to you.” I grabbed his hand and it startled him.

“Look, I better go.”

“What if I
want
you to stay?” One of my hands clenched his hand and the other started up his thigh.” He looked at it. His eyes twitched.

A slight smile cracked on his face. A smile I hadn’t seen in quite a while. I missed it. “I don’t want to intrude on your life. I’ve already done enough of that.”

I squeezed tighter. “I want you to come home with me.”

***

Things were hot and heavy as Victor and I kissed on my couch. I zipped down the top of my shirt. The sound of the zipper pulled him away from me. He panted heavily. I crossed my legs and leaned back on the corner of the couch. A sheen of sweat glistened on my breasts from the soft glow of the lamp. “Are you sure you want to leave?” I asked.

Victor sat at the edge of the couch, pensive, contemplating whether he should rush me or not. He bit his lip. I could hear him take short breaths. Desire seeped into his bloodstream. My pussy filled with heat. I pouted my chest out at him more. The look in his eyes recalled the first time I met him. Victor shot over and mounted me.

I knew this was wrong. Terribly wrong. I just broke up with Tyson. This was too soon. But I couldn’t bear to stop him. The pleasure was too immense. Instead of pushing him back, my hands explored his chest. I knew this wasn’t right - but Tyson wasn’t there.

Victor breathed like a caged animal unleashed into the wild, ready to tear into flesh. My flesh. I was just as hungry. This man took my body to undiscovered height countless times. I lay in bed, sleepless, restless for his touch. I longed to be wistless under the spell he put on me. Every night I longed for his touch, no matter how cold he was to me. To ignore the feeling he gave me would be lying to myself.

I tried to shift positions, but he pinned me down and wrapped his beefy arms around me and carried me to my room. He slammed me down on my bed and his eyes, full of fury and lustful scorn, scanned me from head to toe.

“I want you naked,” he commanded. His voice was breathy with desire. I did what I was told. Before he could unloosen his pants, his cock bulged through, eager to burst from the fabric. One by one, he yanked his clothes off, almost ripping it from his limbs. It was if all the pent up sexual energy was ready to be released and it made a hint of fear crash through me. But I knew I was safe in his presence. He’d never let me in the middle of harm’s way.

I lay there, bared to him, anticipating his warmth. “So you’re just going to stand there?” I asked. He stood at the edge of the bed marveling his prey, his hands on his hips and his shaft iron hard.

“I want to see you touch that pretty little cunt of yours.” Victor could have said he wanted me to fly with him to the sun and I would have gone – no questions asked.

“Mmmm. You want to see me finger-fuck myself?” I asked as I rubbed my fingertip across the bottom row of my teeth. He nodded. I sucked my finger and suddenly pulled it out with a loud
slurp
. I cupped my enormous breasts and kneaded them, pinching and grazing my swollen nipples. My cunt moistened and pulsated from the scene that Victor orchestrated. I couldn’t believe I could be so naughty. Only Victor had a way bringing such a side out of me. I didn’t know it existed until he swept through my life.

His penis seemed to extend by the passing moment. My fingers trailed down from my nipples, past my navel to my pussy. I brushed my index finger against my curly mound of slick, tawny hair. My own touch caused me to jolt; the liquid heat between legs was too much. This game Victor wanted me to play heightened every sensation.

“You’re drenched,” he said shockingly. He cocked his head back and reveled in the moment. I slid my fingers between my thighs, rubbing my inner lips, my clitoris aching to be touched. My fingers doused with wetness, I began to rub my clit, first slowly and then vigorously, making a gaudy swishing sound.

My mouth opened halfway, wails of gratification softly filled the room. My fingertips circled around my fleshy button, swelling it with each round motion. I slid one finger in and then two. My ass constricted from the obscene joy. I pumped my glossy fingers into me going deeper and deeper into my snatch, spreading open my trembling thighs, wishing, pleading, yearning for his cock to penetrate me.

I continued to plunge harder and faster and just before my hand seized up from exertion, my body thrummed and I came to an explosive zenith; my body twisting and contorting from each intense pulse shooting through my bones. I screamed out his name. I could barely regain myself. That orgasm was better than the ones some men gave me. It nearly scared me that I could bring myself to such a place.

Before I could catch my breath, Victor clamored on top of me and ragingly inserted his latex-sheathed hardness into me, breaking through my torrid entrance. We both let out a profound groan, looking into each other’s sex-starved gaze.

It was the moment I thirsted for. I felt helpless under him. I felt
alive
under him.

I clutched his waist; bracing myself for the wicked thrill ride he was to take me on.

“Natasha,” he whispered. That instant, he changed. The sensation overwhelmed him and every muscle on his frame contracted. His skin felt warmer, his touch more sensitive, his breath hotter. Victor changed back into the man I first met: virile, assertive and strikingly attractive. Gone was the melancholy demeanor. It was if I was his medicine, his cure. I let my body be his sensual nourishment. The pain in his life was fading away. Each thrust freed him of the agony he endured.

He dove himself into me deeper, I rocked my hips towards him. Our rubbery bodies scraped above the aqua blue sheets, ruffling them, shaking them out of place.

Victor hooked my leg around me, I arched my back further and he rammed through me in one furious push, clutching my breast with his free arm. He smirked – enjoying the sight of me twisting and turning under his ravenous spell of ecstasy. The sound our wet thighs made smacking into each other made my hot sex even more slick, making it easier for him to glide through.

His rhythm intensified. My tight slit further constricted around his iron rod. “Fuck, Victor. Yes, Victor.” Sweat dripped off his brow onto my breasts, which wildly bounced from the unhindered movement. He bucked his torso into me so forcefully the bed frame screamed for mercy.

Each masterful thrust brought me closer to my shrieking crescendo. He shifted back and grabbed both my ankles, bringing them together, locking them next to each other. He pulled his length out of me and teased me with his head, my pussy aching from the circular motion he made against it.

His hand squeezed my ankles and bent my legs down towards my head, opening me up deeper. He repositioned himself and plowed through my sex deeper than any man had before.

I wanted him to scratch through to the core of my soul.

I became undone. I grabbed the pillow and pitched it against the closet door. He stretched my legs back further than I possibly imagined they could go. I screamed in the utmost pleasure. The pain surging through my thighs were an afterthought. My ears rang and I shut my eyes. I was being taken to another world. “You’re going to come right now,” he commanded.

My head banged against the headboard. “Come, Natasha. Come for me.” My pussy trembled as an orgasm culminated violently throughout my body. He followed, spraying his warm seed into the latex. He yelled my name, every vein in his neck pulsated.

He released my legs and collapsed on top of me – his muscles couldn’t continue to proceed such a frenzied pace. I held him in my arms. Our sweat mixed, leaving a puddle of bliss beneath us. I stroked the back of his head, comforting him.

He lay on top of me, his body still, his heartbeat steady. It was where he needed to be. It was where I wanted him to be.

***

I woke up a bit before dawn from Victor kissing my forehead. I eyes cracked open slowly. I smiled knowing he was the first sight I would lay eyes on. He was wide awake. A contemplative look sketched his face. “Natasha, you make me feel brand new,” he said. I melted. “This is how it
should
be.”

“And just
how
is that?” I asked, my voice filled with morning grogginess.

“You waking up in my arms.”

“I recall trying to get you to wrap your brain around that idea quite some time ago.”

“I’m a little hard-headed. Will you allow me to make up for lost time?”

“I’ll think about it.”

A shocked expression tickled his face. “Oh, is that right?” I scrunched my face up at him. “How the tables have turned”

“The ball’s in your court.” I poked him in the abdomen.

“To show you the leaf I’m turning over, I’m staying with you all day.”

“What if I have plans?”

“Cancel them. Looks like we’ll have to order in because I’ll be staying here all…day…long.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” I smiled.

“You should really consider going to my island, Natasha. I’d love for you to join me.”

“Can I get back to you? I don’t make the best decisions just waking up.”

He nodded and kissed me again. “Absolutely. Whatever decision you make I’m okay with.”

“One decision I will make is me getting out of bed and going to work.”

He grabbed my waist. “Wait, you’re not getting away from me that easily.” He pulled the bed sheet over our heads and explored my body again.

Made up for lost time, he did.