Commitment (57 page)

Then
, without warning,
the tears were flowing and because he had her arms pinned, she was helpless and could only turn her head as they streaked down her face.
Riley
could
just
imagine the mess she looked, with her
streaked make-up
and runny nose.

“Let me go,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. “Let me go. Let me
go
.”

Sudd
enly Shawn’s mouth was on hers;
he was kissing her, despite her tears, her
snot-
nose and her blubbering. He ran his lips
back and forth, side to side
over hers, and then his tongue was in her mouth, coaxing a response.

Riley wanted to resist, but she didn’t know how
to
, because she wanted him so much. She’d missed him touching her.
And for th
e past
few hours when it had seemed like he didn’t
want her
, the sense of loss had been almost overwhelming.
Her breathing intensified again, but this time for very different reasons.

Shawn moved his attention to her neck, kissing, nipping and sucking her there
so that it was painful and pleasurable at the same time
.
She could feel the blood rise to the surface of her skin under his mouth and knew he’d left a mark and that it was intentional.
He
released her arms and moved
his hands
to her back
,
releasing the clasps on her strapless bra
. Riley let him kiss her
across her chest
and basked
in the feeling as he took one of her nipples in his mouth and then the other. She reached up and put
both
her hands on his head.

“
Did you . . .
want her?”
she asked, between breaths.

“No,” he said, without
hesitation, not
raising his
head
or pausing what he was doing.

“Then
why
. . ?”

“Because I was trying to hurt you,” he said.

He reached down and slid her underwear over her
thighs
,
bending her legs so he could tug
it off
and
toss it aside.

“What?”
Riley opened her eyes wide, staggered by this admission. “
Why
?” she gasped.

She t
ried to sit up, but
Shawn still wouldn’t budge
, so she was held in place by his chest pressed against her
.
He
raised his hips and she felt rather than saw him remove his pants.
Riley
heard his boots hit the
wood
floor.

“
What
for
, Shawn?”

She
tried
to catch
sight of his face, but he seemed to be deliberately avoiding eye contact.

“For doing what you do,” he said
against
her ear.

His warm breath caused a pleasurable shiver to
travel
down her back
and all the way to her toes
. Riley opened her mouth to ask him what he meant but at that moment he pushed into her and she cried out in surprise, her
nails digging into his triceps.
Just as she caught her breath, he pulled back and pressed into her again
, this time
much harder. He moved against her hard and fast
.
This was what she wanted.
It was a feeling so
missed, so
welcome, so delicious, that she allowed her head to fall back and let herself forget what she wanted to ask him
.

g

Shawn left the apartment under
the
cover of darkness just before dawn. Brendan would be waiting for him downstairs so they could fly back to Houston. Riley was in a deep sleep and had not stirred at all as he showered an
d threw a few items into a bag; she was
probably
emotionally and physically
spent from the night befor
e
. And he was reliev
ed, not sure he could face her.
How could he explain to her what he didn’t understand himself
?
All he knew was that his wife was the only person who made him feel like this, like he couldn’t fucking
breathe
,
and
didn’t know whether he was coming or going.

He
liked that she was independent, but he hated it too. Like her setting up that interview with Chris without telling him, and then being so close-
lipped
about what they’d
talked about
.
And as for that whole deal with Cameron? What he hadn’t admitted to her was that he’d been angry
at
Cameron, but irrational as it was, he was a
t
angry
at
her as well, just for being in Cameron’s orbit and being the way she
was
. . . with that careless sex appeal.
And to make matters worse, swirling around in his brain had been that email from Chris:
You lucky motherfucker.
He liked that other men
noticed
her, but
he also hated
that
most of all
.

And he loved that she wanted to know him, really know him, but sometimes it felt like too much.
Always with the fucking questions:
what are you thinking, Shawn? What are you feeling, Shawn?
Wanting to
go
deeper than anyone had ever
gone
before.
As if she didn’t own him already. That was his reality; she
owned
him
,
mind, body and soul.

And yet, she had no earthly clue of that fact. Why else would she
flip out on him
about Stephanie?

He’d wanted to make
what now seemed like a
stupid
point,
to
make her feel just a
tiny
taste of what he felt when Cameron had made his move on her. Show her how it was that he got to a point where he wanted to kill that motherfucker. He hadn’t been prepared that she would get to that point herself, crazy with jealousy because he’d let Stephanie flirt with him
a little
.
At worst he thought she might become pensive, and later seek him out to talk about it. That was what Riley did. She talked things through, always. So
when she reacted the way she did,
he
hadn’t been prepared
.
He’
d never seen
her
like that before.

Her reaction had aroused all kinds of conflicting feelings: he was shocked,
and honestly, he’d been
secretly pleased and more than a little
turn
ed on by the sight of her
eyes blazing with anger, all because she felt threatened that some other woman was poaching on her territory.
There was some satisf
action to that, he had to admit—
yeah,
he wanted to say
, now you know what it feels
like when someone goes after what’s rightfully yours.

But he was
scared
too
, especially now in the quiet aftermath,
that
maybe
he’d opened
a
Pandora’s
Box
of craziness in his marriage
and
they would become one of those couples who co-existed only on a steady diet of fighting and fucking
. He didn’t want that for them. Riley was his quiet, his comfort, his solace and he wanted to be that for her as well.

Last night had been a mistake. Something he did because he still needed proof, day after day after day that his wife
would choose to be with someone like
him
.
He’d even given her a hickey, like some high school kid, marking her so that anyone who looked would know she was taken. Thinking about it now, he was embarrassed to admit that that was
exactly
what had motivated it.

And so here he was skulking out like a thief in the night, ashamed that he’d played her like that,
messing
with her head like she did with his. Only in his case, it was intentional and Riley, Riley was just being exactly who he’d known her to be when he married her. Being the only person he would want her to be.

For the first time since they’d been married, he was actually relieved to be leaving home. May
be away from her he could
figure
his shit out.

“I heard you and the wife got into it at the party last night,” Brendan said without greeting as he slid into the car.

“We didn’t get into it at the party,” Shawn denied.
But we did go bat-shit crazy once we got home.
“
And tell Chris I said that he’s a little bitch, carrying gossip like a thirteen-year old girl.”

Brendan laughed. “A
h, so it’s true. What happened?
Stephanie
give you some wood so you lost your natural Black mind and forgot your wife was around?”

“I couldn’t give a shit about Stephanie,” Shawn said.

“From what I hear, it d
idn’t look like that last night,
” Brendan said as he pulled away from the curb. And when Shawn said nothing, he looked at him. “You’re really working overtime to fuck this up,
aren’t
you?”

By the time they landed in Houston, Shawn had had
more than
ample time to think about the folly of his actions the previous night.
While
Brendan was in the terminal, still waiting for his luggage, he sat in the truck they
’d rented, in the waiting zone, gazing
at his hand on the steering wheel. He’d removed the wrap and the three sutures from his altercation with Cameron were already beginning to disappear into his skin. They would leave a small, barely noticeable scar when it healed.

If he wanted
to put an end to this madness
, h
e could call Riley right now. He was practically itching to dial the number. She would be getting ready for yoga. If she was in any s
hape for yoga after last night.
Thinking about her face as he moved above her, an
d her eyes—
she almost always kept them open, staring right into his
—
was enough to make him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

Yeah, sure he could call, but he didn’t know what he’d say if he heard her voice. He was crazy about that girl, half out of his mind crazy about her
. B
ut he didn’t understand her and what was worse, he wasn’t sure he even understood himself when he was with her.
Shawn chucked his cell phone into the back seat, well out of his reach, and turned on the radio, wondering whether he would catch one of the promo
s
pots
for his show that evening.

g

The after-party for the
final
Houston
show
was at the house of some new up-
a
nd-
coming R&B singer who was supposed to be the next
Whitney Houston
.
Shawn watched as she worked the room, wearing a tiny top that looked like a handkerchief tied around her
small
breasts and black skinny jeans
.
She
was probably about
sixteen
years old
, he thought as he watched her guzzling champagne with
her guests
.
Maybe
seventeen.

When he was that age, he too was being indoctrinated into the entertainment world. He remembered what it was like,
getting that
first rush from the attention
given to him by
people who seemed to love him, though they didn’t even know him. For the longest time, it was enough
to have
the approval of strangers. Now that he was older, he s
aw it for what it was – hollow and ultimately unsatisfying.

He sat on a sofa in
the
corner of the room, twirling his phone around in his hands
, yawning
.
Only an hour in and he was ready to go.
Shortly after getting back to Houston from his trip home, he’d done something stupid.
He’d answered one of Keisha’s calls and on an impulse, arranged for her to join the show as a dancer. Her attentions were hollow as well, but
were for now
a welcome distraction.