Married on Mondays (19 page)

M
idnight. Sunday. Winton stood in front of his wife. He folded his arms to keep from choking her. He looked down at her. His
wife’s hair was gathered in a mangled ponytail. She had on a red and gold sleeveless dress and stilettos. He sniffed the air
above her head. The stench of stale cum disgusted him.

“Where in hell have you been?” he asked, already knowing.

He wasn’t sure what made him stick his finger in her pussy, then sniff her scent but what he wanted to do next would get him
life in prison. He motioned to clench his fingers around her throat, cut off her oxygen, strangle her to death. His hand stopped
an inch from her neck. Refraining from killing Foxy, he smeared her juices on her jaw.

“You didn’t have the decency to douche?”

Foxy shoved him aside. “Fuck you, Winton.”

“Fuck me? No, fuck you! You’re out all night with your what, your fucking cousin. Got me bailing that”—he paused, refraining
from using the word
nigga,
then said—“bailing his ass out.”

Foxy’s ponytail whipped in front, then behind her, as she faced him, stepped up to him, stared up at his face. He’d never
seen his wife give him a look that projected she could kill him too.

“You come home before midnight for the first few nights in three years and what? Expect me to be home waiting on your selfish,
inconsiderate, cheating ass while you’re fucking some other woman with the dick that should be inside this good pussy every
day? You’re the one who forgot you were married, Winton Brown, big shot attorney-at-law, not me. Ya still got that nasty-ass
red thong from three years ago? Who was that bitch? Who the fuck is Isis? Don’t blame me for having a stunt double, do your
damn job. Go thank Dallas for saving your marriage. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve divorced you a long time ago.

“When you want your wife back, you know where to find me. Until then, go live with that bitch Isis. I’m sleeping in, let her
suck your dick in the morning. I’m tired. Tired of being alone in this marriage. Tired of being ignored by you. Tired of your
ass, period. Now get and stay the fuck out my face!”

He watched his wife’s booty jiggle down the hallway and into the bedroom.
Slam!
The doorknob fell off. This wasn’t a good time to continue arguing with her, but the conversation wasn’t over.

Winton got in his car. Dallas could have his wife. Against his better judgment, he drove to Nova’s and rang her bell. Nova
opened her door. He expected her to look ordinary and not so attractive in the middle of the night.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you. Come in,” she said.

Nova was more beautiful without makeup. “Thanks.” Her place was ultrafeminine with porcelain dolls displayed throughout the
living room.

“What brings you here?” she asked.

“Came by to see if your offer was still good.” He needed his dick sucked. The unforgettable stench of another man’s sperm
was still on his finger and in his nostrils. He exhaled hard through his nose.

“Let’s take a shower,” Nova suggested.

“Great idea.”

She stepped in the shower with him. Winton pressed his lips to hers. Her lips felt amazing and he couldn’t wait for her to
give him head. As he stepped out of the shower behind her, Nova exuded sex. His dick hardened like it had done the first day
she sat in his office. She handed him a bottle of oil, then led him to the bedroom.

“I want you to massage my body. I want your hands all over me. Fast and firm. Nice and slow. And I want you to spank this
pussy, finger fuck the shit out of me, then I’m going to take that big-ass dick and let you stick it wherever you’d like.”
She opened her legs, spread her pussy. “Look at her. She’s so damn hot for you.”

Winton admired Nova’s Brazilian wax. He wondered if Foxy had said those things to Dallas. Winton wasn’t gay, but Dallas was
a great-looking man and he was single. The background check he’d done on Dallas revealed he was, like Foxy claimed, a headhunter
for corporate executives of the top companies in the country. Well, at least that part about Dallas that his wife had told
him was true. But what made a handsome, successful bachelor want Foxy?

Maybe it was time Winton confronted Dallas.

P
recious moments

Whisk by

Conjugating lies

Truth unfolds

Beauty beholds

In eyes

That are brave

And wise

Victoria opened her eyes at four in the morning. Another restless night fearing her BlackBerry would alarm her. Naomi was
sleeping peacefully. She had to talk to her wife before their day was interrupted with clients, customers, and things unforeseen
like Rain showing up at their front door.

She nudged Naomi. “Honey, wake up. I’m ready.”

Naomi yawned, stretched her arms. “Ready for what?”

“To talk.”

“Okay.” Naomi yawned, propped the pillow behind her head, leaned against the headboard. “I’m listening,” she said, yawning
a second time.

Victoria hesitated, cleared her throat, faced Naomi. She folded her legs like a chicken wing, placed her hands in her lap.
“Regardless of what happens based on what I’m about to tell you, know that I love you and I never meant to hurt you.”

Naomi exhaled, yawned, nodded.

“I haven’t been honest with myself or you. I’ve never stopped seeing Rain.”

Naomi interrupted, “Seeing or fucking?”

Victoria swallowed the lump in her throat, remembered her prayer at the altar to tell Naomi the truth. “Both.”

Naomi’s body tensed. Her lips tightened. “Keep going.”

Covering her mouth, Victoria fought to hold back her tears but couldn’t. “He’s angry because I won’t—”

Naomi shouted, “Don’t tell me about how he feels! How do you feel?” Her wife readjusted her pillow. Leaned back.

Victoria flinched. She’d never heard Naomi yell. The feeling was horrible. Made Victoria want to disappear. “I don’t know
what I feel. There’s a part of me that’s sexually drawn to the way he penetrates me, and—”

Smack!
Naomi’s hand landed across Victoria’s face. “I’ve heard enough!”

Victoria cried, not knowing if she deserved that or not. She understood Naomi’s frustrations. Felt responsible for hurting
Naomi. She slapped Naomi’s face. “Don’t ever hit me again. What I did was wrong, but that does not give you the right to abuse
me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Naomi said, hugging her. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me. I never expected your
desire to be with men to go away overnight. Victoria, I married you because I’m crazy about you. I love you. But I know you’re
human. I hit you because you lied to me, not because you had sex with him.”

Was Naomi justifying her action? Was she justifying hers? Which was worse? Lying, cheating, or fighting? “I’m so sorry,” Victoria
cried.

“Look at me,” Naomi said, holding Victoria’s hands. “Tell me the truth. All I want to know is do you want a divorce?”

Victoria shook her head. “No. No. I love you.”

“Then let’s put this behind us and move forward. Kiss me,” Naomi said.

Their tears blended. Was it possible to forgive and forget that fast? Victoria caressed, then sucked her wife’s breast. She
opened the nightstand drawer, removed the dildo and harness from a satin pouch. She attached two gold bullets to the strap-on.
Victoria sat Indian-style with her back against the headboard.

Naomi mounted the dildo, wrapped her legs behind Victoria. Victoria eased one bullet into her rectum and the other into Naomi’s
ass, then brushed her nipples against Naomi’s stomach while sucking Naomi’s nipples.

Hugging Victoria, Naomi ground her hips onto the dildo until her body trembled.

Victoria prayed a silent prayer that Naomi would never let her go. Good sex with Rain wasn’t a good reason to go back to him.
Victoria would rather be loved by a woman than be tolerated by a man.

W
hat made Acer faithful?

DéJà knew there were women who’d done all the right things for their husbands and their marriages failed. Their husbands cheated
and disrespected them. Which was harder, staying in a bad marriage or leaving? DéJà imagined Foxy and Victoria stayed because
they were the ones cheating. Even when she’d watched
Cheaters
on television, the cheaters never wanted to leave. The person who’d done the right things in the relationship felt betrayed
and ended the relationship. Cheaters begged, cried, and pleaded for forgiveness. DéJà had no reasons to and would never cheat
on Acer.

“Handsome, breakfast is ready,” DéJà called out to her husband.

“Coming, precious!”

Two steps forward, hopefully only one back. Foxy had dashed out of the restaurant yesterday like her life depended on it,
the hell with how she and Victoria were getting home. DéJà hadn’t heard from Foxy or Victoria. Not good, but she’d see them
this morning, hopefully on time.

“Morning,” Acer said, sitting at the table.

DéJà placed a plate stacked with three piping hot cinnamon pecan pancakes and another plate with scrambled eggs and bacon
in front of her husband. Her plate had one pancake, two scrambled eggs, and two strips of bacon.

“Honey, this looks good,” Acer said. He leaned over the plate and inhaled. “Um, um, um,” then drowned his pancakes in buttery
syrup.

“Thanks for picking us up from the mall,” DéJà said. “I honestly didn’t want Winton to find out about Dallas. Not from me.
Not like that. My sister thinks I’m trying to force her to end her affair.”

Acer chewed, swallowed, then said, “I’m not concerned with Winton. He might be the top attorney, but he’s a despicable husband.
Whether he overheard from you or found out from someone else, he got what he deserved. I’m more concerned about Foxy. She
was the happiest, sexiest… not sexier than you, precious, but your sister was so full of life when she married Winton. How
he destroyed that beautiful woman is inhumane.”

DéJà was quiet. She reflected on how Foxy was the life of every party in high school, in college, and after they’d graduated.
Foxy used to make her and Victoria laugh. Her sister was confident, sassy, and sophisticated. Before Foxy married Winton,
men literally begged to date Foxy. Her clients took her on all-expenses-paid vacations. One man, the man who should’ve uplifted
her sister, burst her sister’s bubbling personality.

“Hadn’t thought about it like that,” DéJà said. “Good point. Thanks.”

“No problem, you still need me to drop you off at Foxy’s to get your car?”

“Yes, I do. Handsome, do you think I’m too involved in my sisters’ lives?” DéJà asked.

“Uh, no. Not at all. That’s what family is supposed to do. Look out for one another.”

“How are you feeling this morning?”

Shoving a strip of bacon in his mouth, he said, “Good.”

“Do you think I’m too bossy?” she asked.