chapter Twenty-three
You’re Not Alone
Monique
I’ve been in a daze since my talk with Misha this afternoon. I still don’t know what it means. All this time LaSalle and I have been trying to keep the peace after our lie to Misha.
If there is no lie to cover, does that mean I’m free to go? Should I just leave? The biggest question is, do I really want to leave?
For the first time, I feel like I belong. I have finally found a place that I feel like I can call home. I don’t know when it started to feel that way, but it has.
Then there are Misha’s words. Oh, and let’s not forget Ellen’s letter. She and Misha speak of Tasha as if she is someone other than me. I get it though, I am someone else to those that know Tasha.
Just like Sam is someone else to his friends and family. I think it’s our split personalities that crossed our paths to begin with. So yup, Misha and Ellen may just be onto something.
“Girl, what’s burning,” I turn at the sound of Pam’s voice.
I find all the girls standing in the kitchen doorway. Pam, Paige, Val, Shannon, Camille, Rita, Marie, Sim, Annabella, Kelly, and Reese. Over the last six months, this has become my crew. These women are all so tight and all add their special spice to my life. I can’t help the smile that comes over my lips.
Leave, no, that’s not what I want. I have a family here. These women, their husbands, and their children. These crazy people have made a home for me. Something I never knew I wanted or needed so much.
“What’s going on,” I lift a wary brow at them.
“We opened another letter,” Paige says.
“From Ellen,” I wrinkle my brows.
“Yeah, yeah,” Pam waves that off. “First, I want to know what you were thinking about because smoke might as well be coming out of those ears.”
“Girl, hush,” Paige huffs.
“Something tells me she was thinking about what brought us here,” Val says as she makes herself comfortable at the kitchen island.
“What brought you here,” I ask.
“There were actually a number of letters. Ellen marked one for each of us. Each marked for six months from...,” Camille blows out a breath.
“I don’t get it. Why have they led you all here?”
“Because Ellen knew you two wouldn’t have sealed the deal by now. She sent in the Calvary. I told you. You too cute to be single around here. So, I’m ready to help you lock this down,” Pam shrug.
“Girl, I can’t with you,” Paige shakes her head.
“What, her cute, innocent ass. Look at her. Nah, I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I don’t think she has touched a dick now that I’m looking,” Pam narrows her eyes at me.
I can feel my whole face go up in flames. My chocolate skin must be purple. I bite my lip and shift.
“Oh, shit,” Pam cackles. “I was joking. Well, damn.”
“All that ass, I don’t think she is going to have to worry about a thing. I see the way he looks at her when he thinks no one is looking. When that man pins that down, he’s going to put it on her and she’s not going to be able to do a thing but take it,” Cam throws her head back and laughs.
“You’re all crazy,” I laugh out in embarrassment.
“No, Love,” Val says, mocking her husband’s accent. “We’re all good at keeping our husbands satisfied.”
“That’s right, when we’re done here you will be sucking, fucking, and nutting like a pro,” Pam sings.
“I’m not here for that,” Marie blushes. “My letter didn’t bring me here for that.”
We all burst into laughter. “Oh, please. Like we don’t know what the collar around your neck stands for,” Rita hollers through her laughter.
“Whatever,” Marie pokes her lip out.
“On a serious note,” Kelly Briggs says. “We’re here to get him to see you as a woman. Not the caretaker that has stepped in to help out.”
“Seriously,” Camille says. “Enough with the sweats and head wraps.”
“I think the head wraps are cute on her,” Paige shrugs.
“I like them too,” Reese nods.
“Okay, but the sweats have got to go. Ellen knew that each of us could help give a little push. Now let’s get moving. All the kiddies are with the grands and Logan said we have until eight. Val, you and Reese get started on her closet. Pam, you can dress her for tonight and we can both start this master’s session on giving head,” Camille smiles slyly.
I just stand with my mouth hanging open. They’re serious. What the hell is going on today?
~B~
Sam
I need a shower and a drink. However, I’m going to pass on that drink tonight, after what happened this morning. My parents called to say they wanted to keep the kids for a sleepover. I sent over a few extra men, just as a precaution.
I’ve been trying to avoid coming home, but everyone had some excuse for needing to be somewhere else. I wish I had somewhere else to be. I still can’t believe what I did this morning. I feel like a dirty pervert.
I don’t know what to say to Mo. I feel like shit for violating her. I have to fly out on business in a few weeks. I’ve thought about leaving a little earlier. Maybe we need some space.
My brows draw as I walk into my home to a few things that don’t seem right. One, the lights are dim. Two, there’s music playing. Three, I hear laughter, female and male.
I move further into the house to find Mo and some guy in my living room. He’s tall, but not taller than me. He’s dark skin and the smile he’s giving to Mo is blinding it’s so white.
I’m reminded of what her fiancé once looked like. Nothing like me. That shit grates on my nerves. My ears register that Etta James is crooning about rather going blind, and I agree with her. I don’t want to see this shit.
Rage fills me. Mo is trying to get us both killed. This is the last thing I need Misha to see. My eyes zone in on her and I stumble back. She looks…the fuck?
Mo has on a skin-tight pair of light blue jeans. The way they are hugging her hips and ass, has me hard instantly. Her pretty, little toes are out, in blue strappy winged looking shoes.
Though her blue and white t-shirts are layered, they are doing nothing to hide her full breasts. Her face is made up to perfection. Those perfect full lips are shining like lights flashing to guide my dick straight to them. She’s gorgeous.
I shrug out of my suit jacket and toss it. “Who the fuck is he, and why the fuck is he in my home?” I snarl.
Mo turns to me and the smile falls from her lips. This dead motherfucker actually puffs his chest out, in my damn home. I step toward him shaking my head.
“You don’t want to do that shit. Not with me, bitch,” I say to him.
“Sam,” Mo gasps.
My head snaps towards her. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re playing with his life,” I growl.
She sets down her glass of wine and moves to stand in front of me. “This is Clive,” she says as she places her small hands on my chest. “The glass artist that makes the puzzles and things for Sammy, for me.”
I place my hands on her waist possessively. “Why is he here?” I grunt.
I’m getting pissed off by the second. She feels so damn good in my hands, and she shouldn’t. I don’t take my eyes off this motherfucker, that doesn’t know I could kill him a million different ways and not leave a trace.
“Sammy has been asking for more puzzles. Clive was cool enough to come by to get some pictures I found. He’s on his way out, we just got caught up talking about the music,” she explains.
I look down at her, pulling her closer to me. She slides her hands up to my neck and we’re both lost in each other. I feel like a magnet is pulling me to her.
“Thank God, man of house is home. Can you feed me now?” Misha groans like a big child. “You,” he points a half-eaten apple at this pussy that’s still glaring in front of me. “I want glass puzzle for my little girl, Da? Her birthday is coming. Make it happen.”
With that Misha turns and heads back the way he came. I loosen my grip on Mo. Instead of kissing her lips, I brush a kiss to her forehead.
“Did you get what you came for,” I ask this Clive.
“Yeah,” he says eyeballing me.
“I don’t like you. First, I find you eye fucking my woman. Now, you’re sizing me up. I’m the wrong one to fuck with. I’ll pick up my son’s puzzles. My assistant will contact you in the morning. You deal with me from now on,” I hiss.
“Sam,” Mo gasps again.
“What, Baby,” I reply, not looking away from the man I may have to fuck up.
“Baby,” she whispers.
I turn my head slowly at the endearment. She smiles up at me, reaching to cup my ticking jaw. She bites her lip and I can feel her shift as she crosses her thighs.
“Goodnight, Clive, can you see your way out?” Mo says, not taking her eyes off me.
Mo uncrosses her legs and starts to sway in my arms to the music. I pull her closer. It’s not lost on me that Al Green’s, How Can You Mend A Broken Heart, is playing. My hands slide up her back as I take over the dance.
I can feel that motherfucker watching us, as he leaves my home, but I know my men are watching him from the shadows. I train my focus on the woman in my arms. The one I told myself I couldn’t have.
My eyes fall to her lush lips. I can’t stop my hand from roaming back down to her ass. It’s like the first time she was in my arms. I’m under her spell.
With my other hand, I run the backs of my fingers across her cheekbone, down to her lips, where I run my thumb across the soft pillow of her bottom lip. My greys lock with her soft browns.
“I have nothing to give you,” I breathe.
“I could say the same thing,” she whispers.
“You would be lying,” I say and dip my head.
I’m taking her lips before I can think better of it. She opens right up for me. Her taste bursts in my mouth and consumes my entire being. I growl and grip a hand full of her ass.
She tastes of chocolate and wine. I dance her back to the nearest wall. Lifting her to my waist, I press her back to the wall. I plant one hand on the wall, as the other kneads her thick ass.
I deepen the kiss and she whimpers into my mouth. I can’t control myself. I start to grind slowly into her heat.
I break the kiss to watch her face as I rock my hips into her in time with the song. She holds my gaze; her arms are locked around my shoulders. Her lips part drawing my attention back to them.
I shake my head, but it won’t clear. Cupping her face, I dip my head back in for her addictive taste. She shivers. Fuck, she’s going to be the death of me. She’s coming as easily as she did this morning.
“Mo, are you coming again,” I ask huskily, as I look into her face.
She bites her swollen lip and nods. I growl and take her mouth in a passionate kiss that threatens to send us both up in flames. I start to grind my erection into her harder. I’m fucking dry humping like a teenager, at thirty-seven.
I break the kiss to suck on her neck. She smells so delicious and tastes even better. She whimpers and threads her fingers in my hair. Her legs tighten around my waist and I know we’re both coming this time.
I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. Her hot pussy is driving me insane and I haven’t even been inside it. Her nails claw at my neck and I shiver.
“I’m coming,” she cries and it’s my undoing.
“Come for me,” I hiss in her ear. “Only for me.”
I pound my hips into her twice more until I’ve emptied myself in my pants. When I look in her eyes, they’re bright and wild. I plant my sweaty forehead to hers.
“I’m so wrong for you,” I say brokenly. “I’m already ruining you.”
She pushes at my chest softly and slides down my body. I reach for her arm and wrap my hand around it. I don’t want her to go. Mo slips right through my fingertips. I hold on until the last second as she walks away, squeezing her fingers.
I press my head to the wall and pound my fist to it. Once, twice, three times, before I break down in sobs. The music is still playing, ripping at my soul. I don’t know if she can mend what’s broken in me. I don’t know if anyone can. I turn and slide to the floor, sitting on my ass, pressing my back to the wall.
I draw my knees into my chest. My head falls back against the wall. How the fuck did I get here? I remember a time when I was a cocky, young bastard with the world at my fingertips. Now, I feel like it all keeps slipping away.
I sit there lost for so long, I don’t know how much time passes. I don’t even notice when the music stops. It is a snort that pulls me out of my own self-loathing and pity.
“I told you she was more than pussy,” Misha’s voice greets my ears. He clicks his tongue. “Make her wife, LaSalle or I will.”
He turns and disappears somewhere in my home. That Russian motherfucker has one more time to threaten taking my woman. Fuck, she’s not mine.
~B~
Monique
I don’t know what just happened. I wipe my hand under my nose. This morning had been a mistake. LaSalle was asleep. He thought I was his wife. Tonight, he was aware of who I was.
I never should have let things get carried away. Everyone’s talk of LaSalle and me got to my head. I’m in way over my head. I need to get myself together.
LaSalle is hurting. He’s not ready for a relationship. That’s what I need from him. I may be mad at my father for all of his scattered children, but what’s been drilled in my head is still there. There is nothing I can do about it now.
I don’t just want to be used and thrown away. To be used and thrown away by LaSalle would be more than I could bear. My shoulders shake. The chemistry between us is explosive, but I heard his sobs as I ran from him.
I need to leave that man alone. No matter what Ellen thought she saw for our future. I close my eyes against my tears as I think of Ellen’s written words. She said this would be the fight of my life.
I shake my head, I don’t think this is a battle I want. Have I become that desperate that I’m here in this man’s home, trying to be a what? A replacement wife. That’s some bullshit.
I start to feel dirty. I peel my clothes from my body and climb into the shower. No, I don’t think I can do this. Misha was right. I’m in love with LaSalle. I think it’s time I leave.