Scandalicious (38 page)

“Damn, you feel good,” Lincoln muttered in her ear. “I wanna fuck you right now.”

“Do it. You know what I want,” she murmured, clamping her thighs tightly around his dick.

“Not yet.”

He slid his dick in and out of the lathered territory between her thighs. His hands became active again, toggling her swollen clit. He slid a finger into her juicy pussy, and Solay let out a loud moan. He pleasured her with a crooked, searching finger, while his thumb worked on her clit.

“I’m ready for some dick,” Solay uttered breathlessly. She disengaged, momentarily breaking the passion spell she was under.

She turned around and faced him. He bent his head, and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was not soft and delicate. They kissed with fervor, their mouths open, tongues lashing, hungrily devouring each other. She moaned and writhed; his hot kiss making her yearn for more.

Solay groped and found Lincoln’s thick, meaty dick. It felt like a heavy club inside her fist. She stroked it tenderly into her sudsy fist.

“Oh, shit. That feels good. I bet that hot pussy feels even better,” Lincoln panted. Roughly, he turned her around, positioning her with her arms outstretched, her hands pressed against the tiled wall, her legs spread widely apart as if he preparing to conduct a strip search.

Feeling highly emotional and sexually charged, Solay looked over her shoulder. “Come on and fuck me; I’m ready.”

He entered her slowly from behind, pushing in increment after increment of hot pulsing dick. After embedding every inch of thickness to the hilt, Lincoln became still.

Solay let out a sharp cry. “Oh, Lincoln. I need you.” She wriggled and moaned. “I need you so bad.”

“I’m here, baby. You got me,” Lincoln whispered soothingly. Though his body was still, he could feel his hard dick throbbing against her silken, tight sheath. The feeling was so intense, he was afraid he’d shoot out a hot load with the first dick stroke.

His hands steadied her as her pussy grew more insistent, tightening around his girth, goading him into giving her what she wanted—a long, hard ride.

Don’t you punk out on me, muthafucka,
he cursed at his pulsing dick, demanding that it exercise some self-control. His strong hands gripped Solay’s shoulders as he drove in…delivering long, slow strokes, clenching his teeth to hold back the orgasm that was rocketing through his body.

The way her muscles gripped him, the way she started mumbling words that he couldn’t make out, told Lincoln that Solay was close to getting hers. He ignored the hot burn of pleasure that coursed through him; refusing to cum until he was certain that Solay was satisfied.

“Tell me whatchu want,” he whispered, while working his dick in and out at a faster pace.

“Pinch my nipples,” she said hoarsely.

His hands slid away from her shoulders and traveled down to her titties. He squeezed the voluptuous, small melons, and then pinched her stony nipples, until her pussy puckered wildly around his shaft. Her body began to buck uncontrollably. Lincoln didn’t stop pinching her nipples or pounding her pussy until Solay went completely over the edge of ecstasy, all the while, spewing a litany of sex-induced profanity.

The walls that sheathed his dick were slippery with her juices. There was so much heated moisture inside her pussy tunnel; Lincoln could no longer hold back. He squeezed his eyes shut and let go of every torturous emotion that had plagued him. Inside Solay’s tight warmth, he released a rushing sea of passion.

L
incoln came home at two-fifty in the pitch-black gloom of night. There wasn’t a star in the sky. He entered his home and was surprised to see Chevonne sitting on the sofa in her bathrobe, obviously waiting up for him. The disgusted look on her face informed that she was none too pleased. At any other time, he would have cared—he would have immediately launched into an explanation, and would have tried to placate her. But tonight, her pissed-off look was almost laughable.

“Do you know what time it is?” Chevonne demanded.

Lincoln looked down at his watch. “It’s almost three in the morning,” he said dispassionately, striding past Chevonne. “Are you staying down here? ’Cause I’m going to sleep,” Lincoln said without breaking his gait, and heading for the stairs.

He listened as Chevonne stomped and huffed up the steps behind him.

Inside their bedroom, Lincoln closed the door and began to undress. Chevonne glowered at him. “Are you seriously going to walk in this house at this time of the morning, and act like it’s perfectly normal? Where have you been for all these hours? I’ve been calling your phone, sending you texts. I though you were in an accident!”

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled without emotion.

“That’s it…you’re sorry. Lincoln, I’ve been worried sick about you, but you’re acting like you don’t have a care in the world. Waltzing into this house at three in the morning and acting like
it’s the middle of the day.” She put a hand on her hip. “You better tell me something.”

“I don’t have to report to you; I’m not telling you shit.” Stripped down to his underwear, Lincoln pulled back the covers on his side of the bed.

“Why don’t you review what you and ol’ boy did last night…and then read some of those sext messages y’all were sending back and forth…” He paused letting his words sink in.

Chevonne’s eyes were blinking fast. She opened her mouth to talk, and then seemed to think better of it.

“Now do you really want to question where I’ve been, or do you wanna take your ass to sleep and leave me the fuck alone,” he said with contempt.

“Sex messages?” She scowled as if she found the thought repugnant. “I didn’t send any sexually explicit texts.”

In bed with the covers pulled over his shoulders, Lincoln pushed himself up and stared at his wife. “Oh, no? Did I read that shit wrong, or did you agree to give up the pussy raw on your next gym night?”

Chevonne grimaced. “What are you talking about?”

“Keep playing dumb; I really don’t care. I just wanna get some sleep.” He clicked off his bedside light. Lying with his hands clasped behind his head, he observed Chevonne momentarily, and then closed his eyes.

His eyes opened reflexively as she rushed to his side of the bed, and turned the light back on. “Why would you snoop through my phone messages?”

“Do you really have to ask me that? Look, everything you’re saying and doing is only irking me, so give it a rest. Go to sleep.” He shook his head. “Oh, yeah,” he said suddenly. “We may have to start coordinating our after-work schedules. Be sure to let me
know when you need me to watch the kids…you know, while you’re out there getting it in with your mechanic. I don’t want Tori and Amir left home and neglected, whenever Mommy goes out to get a tune-up.”

“You cold-blooded bastard; how dare you talk to me like this. I would never neglect my children. Those texts that you read were old, Lincoln. I must have forgotten to delete them,” Chevonne said desperately.

“Mmm-hmm. Sure, you’re right. You lie so much, you’re starting to believe yourself.”

Chevonne walked solemnly to her side of the bed. “I’m telling the truth, Lincoln,” she said pleadingly.

He glared at her. “You don’t know the first thing about truth or decency, so stop embarrassing yourself by continually lying.” Lincoln turned the light out again, and curled into a comfortable position.

“You’re accusing me of cheating, and I haven’t!” She sounded tearful. “I can’t sleep in here with you. There’s too much tension.” She flung off the covers and sat up.

“Look, either lie the hell down and go to sleep…or take your ass in the basement…the garage…or sleep on the sofa. I don’t give a fuck where you go; just shut up and leave me alone.”

Snatching her pillow from the bed, Chevonne stormed out of the bedroom.

Having the bed to himself, Lincoln turned over on his stomach, and stretched out his arms and legs. This position would hopefully deter Chevonne from trying to creep back into their marital bed.

“Daddy. Are you awake?”

Lincoln opened his eyes and smiled at his daughter’s face. “I am now.”

“Mommy slept in my room last night…how come?”

Lincoln searched his mind for a convenient lie, but couldn’t find one on such a short notice. “Sweetie…” Lincoln cleared his throat. “Mommy and Daddy are having problems, and we’re not going to be able to work them out.”

Tori wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Are you getting a divorce?”

“Probably.” He nodded his head. “Yes, sweetheart. More than likely.”

“When?” she asked, sounding panicked.

Lincoln sat up. He peered intently at his pajama-clad daughter. “I don’t know, Tori. Getting a divorce can be a lengthy process. But I don’t want you to worry about it. Mommy and Daddy both love you and Amir. That’s never going to stop.”

“Am I going to have a stepmother?” she asked with horror.

Lincoln chuckled. “Maybe someday—but not any time soon.”

Amir entered the bedroom next, with a troubled expression. “Go downstairs and eat breakfast, Tori.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Get a move-on!” Amir insisted, using his mother’s phrase.

“Go eat breakfast, Tori,” Lincoln intervened.

“Okay, Daddy.” Tori scampered out of the bedroom, apparently relieved that her young world wasn’t going to instantly collapse.

“Mommy was crying,” Amir said accusingly.

“Your mother and I are having a lot of problems, and she’s upset.”

“What kind of problems?”

“Serious problems. We’re headed for a divorce, son.”

Amir flinched. More sensitive than his little sister, tears welled in Amir’s eyes.

“We’re all going to get through this, somehow. It’s going to be all right, man. I promise you.”

“But I don’t want you to leave us.”

“I’m going to have to—eventually. But that won’t be for awhile. It’s going to be tense around here, until I get my own place. I’m going to do everything in my power to make the transition easy on you and your sister. I love you, son. You know that, right?”

Amir nodded, while tears streamed down his cheeks.

Eighteen Months Later

I
t was only due to his high spirits that Lincoln didn’t groan when he paid the extravagant monthly parking fee. He walked the next block and a half, taking in the sights of the neighborhood.

The past year and a half had been the hardest time of Lincoln’s life. Divorced now, he had finally found it in his heart to forgive Chevonne. She was the mother of his children, and he felt great relief that he was finally able to let go of his deep resentment toward her.

She’d cut all ties with that ruthless thug, Raheem. Lincoln had threatened to go after full custody of the kids, if she didn’t. Now she had a new man. She went from a thug to a suit; her new love interest was a city official. Lincoln didn’t like him very much; he was a smug prick, but at least Chevonne’s new man wasn’t psychopath—he wouldn’t be a bad influence on his children.

Parenting his kids on a part-time basis would take some getting used to. He and Chevonne shared joint custody, and they were all still learning to cope with the changes that had occurred in their lives. Logistically, picking up and dropping off the kids, was a little problematic, but he had no choice but to make it work.