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  Did that bitch have amnesia? Not this shit again. No, she was not giving him an ultimatum in the house he’d bought her broke ass. Herschel stood quietly. He walked toward the door. “You can go get Kwan. But if you bring a man up in here. Up in my house. The house I’m paying for. Let me make myself HDTV clear. Pack your fucking bags, leave my damn furniture, and go live with that nigga. Let him take care of you and Kwan. I’m out.”

  Ivory raced toward him, slammed her body against the door, grabbed his shirt, then cried, “I’m sorry. Don’t leave. Please stay the night with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

  Oh, his fault. She didn’t have amnesia. Ivory was fucking bipolar, borderline schizophrenic. Staying the night was not an option. Herschel had plans that didn’t include raging estrogen, out-of-control hormones, or endless fake-ass tears.

  “Move out of my way,” he said. Fucking around with her ass, he’d miss the postgame highlights.

  Ivory slid to the floor, cradling her crying face in her palms. Biting his bottom lip, Herschel tapped his foot.

  Damn. “Fine. I’ll stay the night,” he lied, “if you stop stressing me the hell out.” Retreating to the kitchen for a cool glass of cranberry juice, Herschel asked, “You want some?”

  “Sure,” Ivory said, drying her eyes.

  What she really wanted was for him to fuck the shit out of her.

  Sitting on the bar stool at the island that doubled as a dining area when they ate together, she quietly sipped her juice. Herschel reached into the fruit bowl and picked up a ripe mango. Opening his mouth, he sank his teeth into the peel, biting a chunk of the fruit. “Damn, this is good shit right here,” he said. “You’ve gotta taste it. Come here, baby.”

  Ivory smiled.

  Yeah, her ass is bipolar, he thought. The minute Ivory got what she wanted, she was all happy and shit. Cupping her hand over his, she raised the mango to her lips. When she opened her mouth, Herschel shoved the fruit, trying to put the seed and all in Ivory’s mouth.

  “Don’t ever give me a fucking ultimatum again, or you’ll find yourself homeless. You got that!” he yelled.

  Backing away, Ivory ran to the opposite side of the island. Herschel raced behind her. Bracing his hands on her hips, he hoisted Ivory high in the air, then slammed her hips on the island. Lifting her dress, he ripped off her leopard thong, then slid his finger inside her pussy.

  “This is my pussy, you hear me. Mine!” he said.

  “Okay,” Ivory whimpered, surrendering to him.

  Once she’d given in, Herschel peeled the mango with his teeth. He spat the rind onto the tile floor. Rubbing the mango on his bald head, he stretched Ivory’s thighs as wide as he could. He lowered his head, then massaged the juices that were on his head onto her pussy.

  Herschel squeezed the mango. The fruit gushed between his fingers, dripping juices onto Ivory’s pussy. Removing her bra, he gently stroked the mushy mango between her breasts, circled it around her areolas, scrubbed her body with it, then sucked her sweet, tangy nipples into firm erections before licking her all over.

  “Mmm,” Ivory moaned, scooting backward onto the island. She locked her fingers in her hair, then tugged.

  Stroking the mango between her pussy lips, Herschel braced her legs over his shoulders, then buried his face between her thighs. Since he couldn’t figure out what Nikki ate to make her taste so good, he just rubbed whatever he felt like eating all over Ivory.

  “Damn, you taste so fucking incredibly delicious. Whose pussy is this?” he asked, firmly pressing his tongue against her clit, the way she liked. “Don’t move,” he said, making his way to the refrigerator.

  He retrieved an ice cube, melted it down a little in his mouth, pressed his cool lips against her clit, then slipped the ice cube inside her ass right along with his middle finger as he began to finger fuck her in the ass while sucking her clit.

  Herschel enjoyed eating familiar pussy as much as he liked sucking his lover’s dick. He buried his face deeper into Ivory’s pussy until she came so hard he had to catch her before she slipped off the island and onto the floor. Maybe he should’ve let her fall. It would’ve been a justifiable accident.

  It was a good thing women couldn’t tell exactly what men were thinking. A man’s actions spoke louder than his words, but nothing spoke louder than the emotions a man never shared.

  “Baby,” Herschel pleaded, holding Ivory in his arms, “don’t ever leave me. I need you. Just give me a little longer. Everything is gonna be all right.” Gently letting her go, he said, “I’ll call you later.”

  Ivory frowned, then cried, “You’re leaving? You promised.”

  Not soon enough. Damn, shut up. “I’ve got to. I’ll call you later,” he repeated, walking toward the door.

  Trailing him, Ivory asked, “You’ve been leaving a lot lately. Are you seeing another woman? Just be honest with me. I want you to stay with me.”

  And what, listen to her cry again? Or badger him over the brain with Kwan’s birthday trip, until he fell asleep. No fucking way. “No, I’m not seeing another woman. I gotta go. I’ll see you at church Sunday.”

  “Sunday? Sunday is three days away.”

  “And? What’s your point?”

  Shaking her head, Ivory said, “Nothing. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  Herschel didn’t like the way Ivory had said “Nothing,” but he couldn’t keep Anthony waiting.

  CHAPTER 11

  Lexington

  When a man loved a woman… he’d do any and everything for her.

  Make love to her all night. Take out the trash. Eat her pussy until she begged him to stop. Inquire about her day with genuine concern. Plan vacations with her. Satisfy her sexual desires first. Send her flowers without her having to ask. Cook, clean, and keep her company. Suck her toes. Entertain the kids and insist she hang out with her girlfriends for the weekend. Give her a relaxing body massage. Tell her, “I love you” so often, she’d never have to wonder or ask, “Do you love me?” All the things a man in love did for his woman, he did them willingly, not under duress or protest.

  “Lexington, I’m not going to pretend or ignore the fact that you laid in my bed and confessed you’re having an affair with Nikki.”

  “Your bed?” Lexington repeated, refusing to look up at Donna, while he struggled to tune her out, eat a late lunch, and watch the Hornets.

  “Are you having an affair with Nikki?” Donna asked.

  “Confessed?” Lexington said, raising his eyebrows, keeping his—thanks to Donna—divided attention on the game. “Did you say I confessed?” He should’ve accepted Brian’s offer to watch the game at his house.

  Donna yelled, “Answer the damn question. Are you having an affair with Nikki or not?”

  “Nikki who?” Lexington replied.

  “Nikki who? Nikki who? Ou, if you answer one more question with a question… ,” Donna lamented, raising her voice.

  “What? You gon’ leave me? You gon’ get out of my house? Is that it?” Lexington asked. “If you had a life of your own, instead of depending on me to satisfy your every need, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “I did have a life of my own. Remember? A very lucrative life and business, mind you, until you came along with your long list of convincing promises, and like a fool, I sold my business, married you, gave you two kids, and this is the thanks I get. You owe me. And one way or another, you will repay me for the time I’ve invested in you and your kids,” Donna said, bracing her fists on her hips.

  She was right. There was nothing to debate. Lexington sat in his theater chair, turning up the volume on the television to drown out Donna’s annoying voice. Most of what she’d said made sense; it was her delivery that made him want to regurgitate his lunch in his wife’s face. Why didn’t she talk to him when The Tyra Banks Show, Oprah, Judge Mathis, or those drama-driven soap operas were on? Donna’s timing was always off.

  Donna stood in front of him with her pussy at eye level. “Maybe I should call N
ikki back and ask her what’s going on. She’s feeding you those sex recipes, huh? Got your dick all hard for every woman except me.”

  “Donna! Move the fuck from in front of the TV! The Hornets are playing for the biggest opportunity ever, and your mouth is wider and louder than the fucking television. I don’t want to stare at your pussy, or lick it, or fuck you. You let yourself go, not me. Now move.”

  “Oh, so you think Nikki is prettier? Is that it? My ass is wider than hers? I’ve given birth to two kids to her none,” Donna said, holding up two fingers in his face, like Lexington didn’t know how to count. “She doesn’t have to hide from me. I’m not stupid. She’s not woman enough to show her face over here anymore.”

  “That’s because her business is thriving,” Lexington said in Nikki’s defense.

  “Oh, now you can give me a direct response. I want her to come over here so I can talk to her, woman to woman. Let her see what I have to deal with every day, crying myself to sleep. She needs to see what kind of empty-promises man you really are. You want me to move? Is that it? Then you make me move,” Donna said, edging closer to him.

  “Haaaa,” Lexington exhaled, then stood, nudging Donna out of his way. He snatched his keys and wallet off the red-stained glass coffee table and walked outside.

  “Oh, you think you going somewhere?” his wife heaved after him. “Not today, baby. Like it or not, you’re staying home with me. It’s time you make a change. It’s time you concentrate on me,” Donna said, marching behind him. “It takes separation to bring appreciation. Remember that song, Lexington? I’m warning you, if I leave your ass, you won’t have to wonder where did we go wrong, because I promise you there will be no getting back together for us.”

  “You promise,” Lexington said, standing in the driveway. Donna had parked her three cars, bumper to bumper, sideways, behind his. “What, Donna? What do you want from me? If I make you so unhappy, why don’t you find somebody who loves you? That would make both of us happy.”

  “You mean the way you love Nikki? I need to find another husband because the man I married doesn’t love me anymore?” Donna countered.

  Lexington’s trembling voice said, “Exactly. I love Nikki. There, satisfied? Is that what you wanted to hear me say? I said it. I’ll say it again. And I’ll keep saying it until you get the fuck out of my face! Yes, I do love Nikki. Always have. Always will. And she might be having my baby.”

  No sooner than he’d spoke, Lexington regretted every word. Not because what he’d said wasn’t true. His wife didn’t deserve to hear that. He watched the tears that filled Donna’s squinted eyes. Not the sad ones. The angry “I wanna kill your trifling ass for telling me you love another woman” kind of tears. Thank goodness his girls were on an overnight camping trip with their friends and didn’t have to witness Donna’s incessant rage, and, luckily, their closest neighbors were too far away to hear Donna scream, “Fuck you, Lexington Lewis! You can have that bitch!”

  Lexington hoped that if the girls were home, Donna wouldn’t conduct herself in such a reckless manner. Each day, Donna grew more careless with her words. Shouting at him in front of the girls, making his girls cry. Each time the girls got upset, they clung to him, not his wife. The girls would make separating from Donna difficult. Nikki was too busy to watch his girls; he was too. Lexington had to make sure that if Donna left, the girls went with her. He’d provide for them, the same as he did for his son and two daughters in New Orleans.

  He considered walking over to Nikki’s to borrow one of her cars, but Herschel was home alone again, probably depressed like Donna. Maybe they should wife swap. Yeah, two depressed married people should be together. Hershel didn’t deserve Nikki, and Donna sure as hell didn’t deserve him. Herschel and Donna were both miserable and deserving of one another.

  “Let me take a piss and I’ll give you five minutes of my undivided attention,” Lexington lied. “Wait right here.”

  “Don’t do me any favors. You’re going to be here more than five minutes,” Donna said, tossing her ass on the sofa.

  She’d already blocked his cars. If she didn’t move them by morning, he’d have the Mercedes, Lexus, and Bentley he’d bought her towed to the Salvation Army. Lexington exited the rear of his home. His feet lightly stepped along wooden planks until he reached the dock. He got in his yacht, stood at the helm, and started the engine.

  Donna came running onto the dock, yelling, “Don’t come back here, you liar, you hear me!”

  Get real, he thought, speeding away, watching water splash in her face, hoping the water would help cool Donna off.

  Rocking with the currents, Lexington turned off his engine, floated on the bay, then powered on his television to watch the last few minutes of the game in peace. Disappointed the Hornets lost, he phoned Nikki, thankful she’d answered on the first ring. “I’m ready to talk. You got a minute.”

  “I’m sorry about the other night at the club. I shouldn’t have fucked you like that, but I was jealous of those Queens,” Nikki said softly in his ear. She knew how to calm him. Nikki never yelled, or cursed, or disrespected his feelings even when she had cause.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s not your fault. It was mine. I shouldn’t have disrespected you. That’s why I just wanted to hold you in my arms the last time we were together. Whatever the situation is, even if we’re pregnant, we’ll get through this together. Just don’t communicate with Donna. She knows about our affair,” he admitted.

  “Lexington, no. You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t tell her. What about me? What about Herschel? What if she tells my husband?”

  “We can’t worry about that right now. Neither one of us is happy with either one of them, so Donna will do both of us a favor if she tells Herschel.”

  Lexington didn’t want to fight the Lewis versus Henderson battle alone. He didn’t want to have to do anything without Nikki by his side. Removing all of his clothes, letting the sun warm his naked body, he asked, “Where are you?”

  “At my hotel, downtown New Orleans. I’m catering a private affair on the Queen Mary tomorrow. Shit. Not the Queen Mary, that’s a tourist ocean liner in Long Beach, California. I meant the Cotton Blossom. See how confused I am.”

  Hearing Nikki say the word “Queen” made his dick harden. The Queens were still in his fantasy repertoire. Lexington had to get Nikki focused on him, not his promiscuous behavior or her husband. Could he give up going to swingers clubs for Nikki? Would she want him to?

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “On my yacht. Drifting mentally and physically as far away as possible from Donna. Nikki, I love you. I have every letter, e-mail, and birthday card you sent me while we were in college.”

  “You never told me that,” she said.

  Lexington heard the smile in her voice. “There’s a few things I haven’t told you that you need to know.”

  Nikki’s voice trembled. “Like what? I thought we shared everything.”

  “The most important thing is, I love you. I’ll tell you when I see you. Don’t worry. It’s nothing that’ll change my love for you.”

  “Isn’t it funny how we’ve always been crazy about each other, would do anything for one another, but never married one another. Why didn’t you propose to me?” Nikki asked.

  “You were always so self-assured, seemed like you didn’t need me for more than having a good time. I accepted that,” Lexington said, relaxing on the foredeck.

  “But I wanted you. I wanted you to ask me to marry you. You know I come from a matriarchal family that strongly believes a woman should never ask a man to marry her. To do so is to take the kiss of death at the altar. I believe that’s true.”

  “So you’re saying, if I would’ve asked, you would’ve married me?”

  “No. Not then. But that’s exactly what I’m feeling now. But it wouldn’t work. Baby, you know you don’t want to stay married to Donna, but at the same time, you can’t admit that you don’t want her to leave you. Why?”

&
nbsp; “When do you get back?” Lexington asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Nikki answered. “Why?”

  “Don’t come home tomorrow. I’m going to meet you at your hotel. I’ll take the first available flight out. Tonight or in the morning. I’ll be there.”

  “You are so crazy. That’s why I love you,” Nikki said.

  Smiling on the inside, Lexington confirmed, “I am crazy. About you. So what are you wearing?”

  Nikki moaned. “I have on a black lace thong.”

  “And?” he asked, massaging his dick.

  “Nothing else. That’s it. It’s pressing against my clit. You’re getting me wet,” Nikki moaned in his ear.

  “Take it off and spread my pussy for me,” Lexington said, teasing his head.

  Exhaling, Nikki purred, “They’re dangling on the tip of my toes.”

  “Put the phone between your legs so I can hear you spank my pussy.”

  Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! “Like that?” she said loudly.

  “Ou, damn. I wanna fuck you so bad, Nikki. My dick is so hard,” Lexington said, watching the sun fade. The late-evening temperature was a warm 80 degrees. The blue sky softly blended with clouded gray streaks. “Stick your finger in your pussy, then put it in your mouth.”