Single Husbands (27 page)

His ass rolled, making a figure eight. Imagining her pussy was a baseball diamond, Lexington slid into first, pressing his
dick into her left corner pocket. Then he hit third, stimulating her right corner pocket. Fucking Nikki fast, he pounded his
dick into second base, nestling his head into the cul-de-sac of Nikki’s sweet pussy. Trying not to come, he faked a run for
home plate, throbbing his head against her G-spot.

“Damn, when did you learn this shit,” Nikki moaned.

“I always have new game for pussy,” Lexington said, throwing a fast one into second.

“Yes,” Nikki moaned, begging, “let me get on top.”

“Hell no,” Lexington said, bracing his hands underneath her ass.

He hit first again, making her moan. Third made Nikki scream. Second made her lock her ankles around his waist, over his ass,
pulling him in deeper. Lexington brought his dick into home plate. Holding his shaft, he jabbed his head into Nikki’s G-spot
while his other hand worked her clit.

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” Nikki screamed, ejaculating all over his dick and balls.

Lexington ejaculated too. Right on her G-spot, then whispered, “We are going to be together. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re right, baby,” Nikki said. “I’m not going anywhere. You are. And I’m not having your baby. I’m having
my
baby. Lexington, thanks for making me good. That was a good one. But right now, I need for you to get out of my life—and
stay out.”

I
should call the police on you!” the general manager shouted. “How dare you come to my establishment, with this, with this
… ,” he ranted, gesturing toward the naked woman standing next to Brian in the men’s restroom.

“Sir, listen, I apologize. Your bartender served me way too many drinks. I should hold your company liable. You do not want
to call the cops,” Brian stated authoritatively, trying to establish a position of power.

“You have one phone call and one hour to be off my premises, or, yes, I shall call the cops. I don’t care what you claim.”
The general manager handed Brian his cell phone. “Hurry.”

“It’s your job and your job reputation you should be concerned about, not whether or not I have a case, because I know the
law and so does my attorney,” Brian bluffed, taking the phone from the general manager.

One phone call was all Brian needed. Scratching his head, he thought, who was the best person to call? Definitely not Michelle.
She’d probably tried to reach him several times by now. God only knew who had his phone and what they’d done with it. Staring
down at the woman who’d sucked his dick, he wondered if he had been set up.

I’ma do like Tank said in his song
Please Don’t Go.
I’ma blame it on the alcohol,
Brian thought.

“Hey,” the general manager said, snatching the phone out of Brian’s hand, giving it to the woman. “You’re taking too long.
You, make your call right now,” he said, opening the restroom door.

A security guard stood by the door, with his arms folded over his chest.

Brian’s eyes narrowed, thinking,
Fake-ass wannabe cop need to get a real job.

“Good,” the general manager said. “Stay right there. I may need you to call the police.”

The woman cried into the phone, “I need you to pick me up. I fell asleep on the beach and someone robbed me. I’m so sorry.
Please bring me some clothes right away.” She was sobbing. “They stole my clothes, my purse, my phone… everything.” She
cried louder, reciting the address of the hotel.

Damn, is it that fucking easy for females to get over?
Brian thought. Michelle would’ve drilled him with ninety-nine questions.

“Last chance,” the general manager said, handing Brian the phone.

This time, Brian dialed a number. When she answered, he said, “Can you bring me some clothes and pick me up? I fell asleep
on the beach and someone robbed me.”

“Brian, what? Are you okay?”

“Other than the fact that I’m alive and standing in the men’s restroom naked… no, I’m not okay,” he said, telling her
the address. He was a grown-ass man and he was not going to cry like the woman had done.

Twenty minutes later, the security guard tapped on the door. The general manager opened the door. A tall, slender woman entered
the restroom, smiling.

“Girl, here,” she said, laughing, handing the woman her clothes.

Brian stared at her, thinking,
What is so damn funny?
He’d thought the woman had called her husband. Women were scandalous!

“Thanks,” the woman said, quickly dressing. “I hope everything works out well for you, Mr. Flaw,” she said, leaving the restroom.

Oh, hell no!
Brian opened the door, alarmed. His mother was outside holding a designer bag.

“Baby, what in the world!” she shouted.

“Damn. Sorry, Mom,” Brian said, taking the bag, closing the door.

Stepping into his sweatpants, then pulling his T-shirt over his head, Brian dressed in ten seconds, ran out of the restroom
to the lobby in search of the woman he’d fucked last night—pissed that
he
was the one who’d been fucked.

She was gone.

Biting his bottom lip, almost drawing blood, Brian tried to figure out,
Why me?
What had he done to deserve the things that had happened to him?

“Son, what is going on?” his mother asked.

“I’m not sure yet, Mom,” he said, trying to answer her question for himself. “Just drop me off at home.”

“Well, let’s keep this between us. Whatever it is, it had better not be illegal, ’cause your father, grandfather, and all
the Flaw men will disown you. Flaw men don’t post bail and—”

“I know, Ma, because Flaw men don’t go to jail. No, I didn’t do anything illegal,” Brian reassured his mother, thankful she
wouldn’t tell his father. The ride from South Beach to his Biscayne Bay home was ten minutes. “Thanks, Ma. I’ll pick up the
kids tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”

“But of course it is. You have a lot to take care of today. I love you, sweetheart. Remember, material things can be repaired
or—”

Brian finished his mother’s statement: “Replaced. People cannot. I know, Ma. I love you too. Please keep this between us,
like you said, and don’t tell Dad.”

Walking up his driveway, Brian noticed several unfamiliar cars. This was not a good time for Michelle to have guests. Had
she invited Donna and Nikki over? His stomach churned. Now would be a good time for Brian to run after his mother and get
back in the car. But he didn’t. He rang his doorbell. Look what he’d been reduced to—ringing the bell! This was his house.

Michelle opened the door. “Brian, where’ve you been? You haven’t answered your phone since last night, and I’ve called you
five times this morning.”

Entering his home, Brian said, “Not now, baby. I just want to rest for a . . .” Speechless, he stared at the women sitting
on his sofa. Zahra, Carmelita, and the woman from the hotel sat there with their legs crossed, like they were guests on a
reality show and he was in the hot seat.

“Oh, those are my mother’s guests. She’s having some sort of meeting,” Michelle said.

“Hello, Brian. How are you?” Zahra asked.

“Fine,” he answered, then said, “Michelle, I need to talk to you in private.”

“No shit,” Michelle said. “How do you know her?”

Brian escorted Michelle to the bedroom. Her mother was comfortably seated on the chaise lounge. “What’s she doing here?”

“Mother, who are those women in my living room?” Michelle said, sitting on the bench at the foot of their bed.

“Here,” Michelle’s mother said, handing Brian a piece of paper. “You see those vows. The ones you promised my daughter. You
lied to her. I hired those women to prove to Michelle that you are not the man she thinks you are. What do you have to say
for yourself?”

Other than the fact that you’re a bitter bitch, nothing,
Brian thought. Damn, did she hate him enough to break up his marriage? Brian remained silent. The only thing he could do
was admit his guilt, and he’d never do that. Not even now.

Tears poured from his mother-in-law’s eyes. “We can talk after they leave, but right now, I want to know if you raped Carmelita!”

Raped?
“You’re one mentally sick woman. Is that what she said? Is that what you’re telling my wife? That I’m a rapist?” Brian asked.
“That I honestly raped that woman!”

Michelle’s mother smiled. “So you did fuck her.”

Bitch!
Tightening his jaws, Brian stared at Michelle’s mother. What was her fucking problem? She seemed to enjoy her cynical behavior.
He was not married to her. “Get out of my house,” Brian demanded.

“No problem. I’ve proved my point. Michelle, you know what you need to do—”

“Ma, get out and take those women with you,” Michelle said, standing in front of her mother. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“But, honey, is this the type of man you want to—”

“Stay married to, Mother?” Michelle asked, then answered, “Yes. Whatever you allege my husband is doing, be aware Brian has
never brought anything but love inside our home. Love for me. Love for our children. My husband treats me like a queen. He’s
a good father. A good man. And I married him for better or for worse, Mother. I love my husband, Mother, and if I had any
idea this was what you were up to, I would’ve stopped you. How dare you bring this foolishness inside my home.”

“Baby, you can’t be serious?” her mother replied. “You’re married to a cheater, a liar, and a man that can’t be trusted. You
don’t know what diseases he might bring home to you. You’re lucky if you don’t have something now.”

No, she is not standing in
my
house disrespecting me,
Brian thought, wanting to kick her out.

“I’m very serious, Mother,” Michelle confirmed. “I know Brian isn’t perfect. I’m not perfect either. But he’s my husband,
not yours. Where’s Daddy, Mother? Huh? He left you and married another woman. You threw away your husband and he married another
woman, and no matter what you say, I’m not throwing away a good man over some other woman’s pussy.”

Brian wondered what Michelle meant when she’d said, “I’m not perfect either,” but at this point, he didn’t care. He was in
the clear. “Baby, you don’t have to explain anything to her.”

Michelle snapped, “You need to be quiet. That’s my mother and I love her too.” As she looked at her mother, tears filled Michelle’s
eyes. “Mama, there are so many failed marriages out there due to insecurities. I’m not insecure. I can’t babysit my husband.
There are too many unhappily married people in the world. I refuse to be one of them. There are way too many divorced couples.
I’m not letting my kids grow up without a father. I’m not going to be a single mother. I love my husband, and my husband loves
me. Mother, sometimes Brian’s love is the only thing that gets me through my toughest days. I don’t want to sleep in my bed
alone every night, cuddling up with morals that can’t touch me, principles that can’t talk to me, or pride that can’t make
love to me. I know your intentions were good, but please get those women out of my house so I can make love to my husband.
If you think you were going to divide us, I’m getting ready to show my husband how much I love and need him. Mother, the only
person that can make me bitter, angry, depressed, or lonely… is
me
. Not you. Not those women. Not even society, which feels I should be pissed with my husband, because most of those people
are just like you, Mother, they’re miserable.”

Brian wanted to tell Michelle he had to be on the next plane to Houston to sign his contract to represent Marcus Monty, but
the timing wasn’t good. This wasn’t exactly the ending Brian had anticipated, but the one thing he knew how to do well was
keep his mouth shut. Whatever his wife had done—even if she’d fucked another man—Brian would never leave Michelle.

Digging deep into her purse, Michelle’s mother tossed his cell phone, keys, and wallet on the bed, then said, “If you lose
track of your husband, you can locate him by the GPS device you uploaded on his phone.”

Low-down and outright filthy! He never once figured the system was to keep track of him. That’s how she’d entrapped him. That
phone was being replaced immediately, and Michelle’s mother could go to hell with her devilish ways.

Closing, then locking the bedroom door behind her mother, Michelle said, “Whatever happened, I don’t want to know. I’m not
saying I don’t care. That would be a lie. But my knowing the intimate details about your being with other women isn’t going
to make things between us better. Brian Malik Flaw, I love you.”

All cried out.

Lexington quickly learned that no matter what he did or said, Donna was done with him. Fortunately, she wasn’t serious about
leaving Alexandria and Alexandrea in his care. Joint custody one weekend out of the month gave him three Saturdays out of
each month to maintain his presence at the sex club. Keeping the girls three days in a row, every four weeks, Lexington had
more respect than he was willing to admit for all Donna had done—and how effortless she had made things seem. Inevitably he’d
given Donna the main thing she deserved… a divorce.

It was okay to be gay.

Herschel’s visit to his mother was enlightening. He’d confessed to his mother his relationship with Anthony. She replied,
“Honey, I’ve known you were gay all your life. I’m glad you finally figured yourself out. Baby, I love you—no matter what.”
With his mother’s blessings, and the comfort of loving Anthony, Herschel didn’t ask Nikki for a divorce. The time had come
for Herschel to be man enough to do the right thing. He canceled his engagement with Ivory, then asked Anthony, “Will you
marry me?” That was the happiest day of Herschel’s life when Anthony said, “Yes, I will marry you.”

Together they filed their divorce papers from their wives, relocated to San Francisco, and legally wedded. Dining. Dancing.
Movies. Theater. Concerts. Openly accepting his sexuality freed Herschel to enjoy life, but not with his husband. Anthony
was to Herschel what Nikki had never become. Anthony was Herschel’s
partner
for life.