Married on Mondays Read online

  Help him out? This wasn’t about him.

  “I’m happily, happily married. Can’t you be happy for me?” Victoria didn’t want to risk having Naomi see her upset or overhear her conversation with Rain. She returned to the guest bedroom, flopped on the edge of the bed.

  “Hell, no. You refused my engagement ring and dumped me for a bitch. You owe me. My patience has ended. The pussy between your legs is mine.”

  Ugh! Victoria’s blood pressure rose instantly, giving her a migraine. For a second she’d stopped breathing. If he were close to her, she’d hit him upside the head with the phone like Whitney had done to Bobby. Was he this unreasonable as a child? “This is my pussy, and I will never let you fuck me again.”

  “Yes, you will. You said that shit the day before you got married and what happened?” His next threat—“If I have to, I’ll rape you, Victoria. And what are you going to do? Call the police?”—made her think about shooting him with his gun, then entering a plea of temporary insanity. She was insane for loving the way he fucked her in the ass. He knew how to make her cum fast, slow, back to back. If she shot him, he’d have the law on his side and she’d have the best lawyers on hers. Who’d win? Perhaps neither of them would.

  “You are one demented man. I’m going to report you,” she cried. What had she done to deserve his relentless verbal attacks? Why couldn’t he be content with being her client?

  “Okay, I’ll compromise with you. Take me on as a daily client,” he demanded. “We’ll start there. Then we’ll work on getting back together.”

  “Over my dead body. I’m already fucking you for free,” Victoria lamented. “I can’t give you all of my slots. I do have other regulars.” She paused, then blurted, “Oh, my God. Please say you’re not serious!”

  “Save that ‘Oh, my God’ for later when I’m fucking you. I’m dead serious.”

  Her stomach churned. She wanted to vomit. She hadn’t made a fool of him nor did she owe him anything. The main reason she’d declined his engagement ring was he lacked the character she thought he’d had. His infectious personality had captured her heart. He used to make her laugh. His magnetic dick attracted her ass whenever she was near him. His promise to protect and serve her was convincing. But when Rain proposed to her, then said, “As my wife you’ll be bound to ‘the blue code of silence,’” Victoria knew there was no long-term future for them. His job was his responsibility.

  Victoria knew “the blue code of silence” was an unwritten code whereby police officers refused to betray one another’s errors—from misconduct to murder to sending innocent people to jail. To break the code was considered snitching, betrayal, and could cost a cop his or her life in friendly fire. And the officer who’d pulled the trigger and the officers who knew the truth would forever remain silent.

  On his knees, in the middle of proposing, Rain had confessed, “I have blood on my hands. Being on the force is like having a love-hate relationship with the devil, but hey, somebody’s gotta get the job done. I’m that man. I’m your man. Victoria will you marry me?”

  Perhaps his confession was to clear his conscience or to let her know what she was marrying into, but at that moment, he’d proved to Victoria he had zero character. He wasn’t the man she wanted to hug all night or cook breakfast for in the morning. A real police chief wouldn’t abuse his authority to enforce the law. Maybe he had to. But she didn’t. Victoria had politely declined his offer.

  Her tears dried. He hadn’t responded. If she hung up, he’d call her house again.

  What had she done to make Rain want to fuck her over? Had to be more than his ego. Victoria had let him fuck her in the ass, and she’d given him the best blow jobs he’d ever had. She never sexually deprived him. If his obsession about having her virginity didn’t change, Victoria would have to tell her father. Telling Mason would be worse than telling her wife. Victoria’s biggest concern was Rain’s threat to shut down Crème Fantasyland and prosecute her and her sisters. She prayed they’d be proven innocent. It was her fault. She should’ve never taken him to Crème Fantasyland.

  Was the blue code of silence stronger than the truth? Yes, it was. If Victoria continued refusing Rain, she’d jeopardize the family’s business. If she gave in, she’d jeopardize her marriage.

  “I can ruin you in a heartbeat, sweetcakes. If you care about your wife and your sisters, stop by my house on your way to work,” he said, then ended the call.

  Victoria went to the bathroom, cried, washed her face, cried, washed her face again, then entered the kitchen. She sat at the table staring out the window. She had no appetite for the hot oatmeal Naomi placed in front of her.

  CHAPTER 17

  Victoria

  Trapped inside

  Nowhere to hide

  Temptation winks an eye

  Who me

  Not me

  I don’t cheat

  Justify the lie

  Selfish gain

  Beget pain

  Once

  No longer

  Denied

  Though she’d spread her legs the width of a few of her ex-men’s hips, she had never allowed any man to put his head inside her vagina. Being a virgin made her better than her sisters. Like Rain, no man she’d met was worthy of breaking the tissues of her precious hymen. Not allowing him to do so made her smarter than Foxy who freely let Dallas rob her of her precious jewel. Not much to say about DéJà and Acer. If they had marital problems, they were the only two who knew.

  Victoria’s wife so loved the fact that she was pure, Naomi vowed at the altar never to vaginally penetrate her. “Sweetcakes, what’s going on?” Naomi asked, sitting at the kitchen table next to Victoria. She placed her hand on Victoria’s. Whenever possible, they sat next to, not across from, one another.

  “Nothing, just plotting… I mean, planning my day. Thinking about the pastry specials for today. What do you think about cupcakes?” Victoria prayed that if she didn’t mention the phone call, neither would her wife. Rain was probably in his bed asleep. Dirty dog.

  Naomi stared at her, tapped her hand.

  Victoria ignored Naomi’s touch, gazed out the ceiling-to-floor kitchen window into the backyard. Orange, red, pink, yellow, and white orchids were in bloom. For a few seconds a peaceful feeling resonated within her. Why were humans the highest life-forms? Trees lived longer. Tangled roots intertwining underground could cause devastation forcing their way to the surface. The same held true for her buried secrets.

  She stared in silence. Most of the flowers were a blend of orange and white or pink and red. Their exotic garden was scattered with colorful tulips and roses. Bougainvillea arched along the top of the gazebo. The sunrise peeped over the lake. The remorse for her deception was overwhelming.

  Facing Naomi, Victoria curved her lips downward but didn’t part them. She was afraid of losing her wife over a few senseless acts of infidelity. Victoria admired Naomi’s beautiful mixed features from her white father and black mother. Naomi’s short blonde hair framed her face as her crystal blue eyes pierced Victoria’s thoughts. Radiant flesh with the glaze of a natural tan—Naomi’s skin was flawless. Her large breasts, small waist, and flat stomach attracted attention from men and women, but Naomi was clear about her sexual preference. She wasn’t interested in men.

  Oh, no. Tell me that wasn’t what I thought? Victoria prayed then confirmed, it was.

  Naomi’s nostrils flared for one of two reasons. Either she was sexually charged or she was annoyed. The latter appeared to be the case as Naomi replied, “He’s getting bolder. This time he called our house. Don’t think I don’t know he calls or texts your cell every day. I think you should think about what’s really important to you and let me know when you’re ready to discuss it. It’s getting old, Victoria. And it’s not too late for you to change your mind, and it’s not too late for us to get an annulment. That’s what I think.”

  Were lawyers human? She hated and loved Naomi’s practical approach to every damn thing. They’d agre
ed not to sweat the small stuff, not to pressure one another to do or say anything. They’d also agreed their marriage was based on a need-to-know basis and what was shared inside their home stayed between them.

  Victoria and her sisters had made a pact to keep the adult fantasy part of their business a secret between them and their clients and never to disclose their clients to anyone. Victoria confided in Naomi that she and her sisters owned and operated Crème Fantasyland. Victoria documented their clients and showed Naomi the daily list, and she’d briefly mentioned the Swiss account and the $1.5 million Crème yielded on an annual basis. Since Victoria told Naomi she specialized in coaching women and couples on how to improve their sex lives, Naomi didn’t consider that cheating.

  Naomi eased her fingers inside Victoria’s white button-up collared men’s shirt. She delicately grazed the nipple. “The sunrise is almost as beautiful as you,” she said, pressing her lips to Victoria’s. Naomi inhaled Victoria’s breath, closed her eyes for a moment, opened them, and said, “I’m your friend first. I’m here for you. Whatever you want to do is okay with me. Don’t feel guilty. Don’t feel pressured. And do not lie to me. I love you, Victoria.”

  Responding would not be wise. Victoria suctioned Naomi’s tongue, then sat on the kitchen table, spread her thighs, and held the middle button of her shirt. She unfastened one, two, then three buttons, exposing her mocha breasts that were the size and firmness of tennis balls. Her body yearned for her wife’s touch.

  Naomi dipped her finger inside her bowl of oatmeal with strawberries and cream, eased her hand between Victoria’s legs, then gently traced her outer labia. Naomi scooped a handful of oatmeal, rubbed it on Victoria’s titties. Dipped more oatmeal, lathered Victoria’s pussy, then gripped Victoria’s ass, sucked her areola, then slid Victoria’s hips against the cold glass tabletop until Victoria’s hairy pussy was in front of Naomi’s mouth. Separating Victoria’s lips, Naomi extended her tongue, deliberately flicking the tip against Victoria’s clit, then pressed her lips against the shaft, holding them there until Victoria’s body relaxed.

  “Ah,” Victoria exhaled. Sliding her hands along her wife’s hair, she massaged Naomi’s head, then locked her legs behind Naomi’s head. Pulling Naomi closer, Victoria came long and slow but not hard the way she’d cum for Rain yesterday.

  Victoria’s body trembled in her wife’s hands. Omitting Rain’s name from the client lists she’d shown Naomi wasn’t the same as lying. Something had to give. What or who should it be?

  It was 4:45. Time to shower and see Rain.

  CHAPTER 18

  Victoria

  What does it feel like

  Playing in the dirt

  Getting your hands dirty

  Because you’re hurt

  Or simply playing dirty

  Because you can

  Negate your responsibilities

  Yet call yourself a woman

  Thursday morning at 5:15, Victoria reluctantly parked in Rain’s driveway, turned off her engine. He stood in the doorway of his blue stucco–framed house motioning for her to come inside. His home wasn’t secluded like hers. He’d benefited from “The Officer Next Door” program the government instituted years ago. He’d paid a third of his neighbors’ home values in exchange for being visible in his community.

  She swore this visit was her last. Entering his home, she hoped to persuade him to see things her way. The sex was what had kept her coming back. Her pheromones instantly ignited the second she was near him. She sat on the end of the sofa closest to the door, pressed her thighs together, placed her hands in her lap.

  “Get up. Let’s go into the bedroom,” he said, tilting his head toward the bedroom door.

  Victoria didn’t move. “I’m not staying. I’ve got to get to work.” She smoothed her hands over her red skirt. Crossed one cream-colored stiletto over the other.

  “Victoria you’re starting to disgust me. Why are you playing games?” Rain asked, standing over her.

  Dr. Jekyll had exchanged places with Mr. Hyde as Rain’s personality changed. Was he waiting until after they married to expose the angry man that stood before her? His parents were in part to blame. A little boy shown hate the majority of his childhood may never learn to love himself. Impervious to compassion, he looked down on her.

  Victoria’s breasts heaved. Not with pleasure. The tone of his voice alarmed her. “I’m not playing games.” She folded her arms over her red button-up blouse.

  “Then what the hell do call what you’re doing? Huh!” He bit his bottom lip, narrowed his eyes. He removed his pants, his boxers, and his shirt. “Get up.” His dick drooped in front her face.

  She could suck it, make him hard, make him cum in five minutes, and be out the door before five thirty. Victoria didn’t move. Her heart thumped hard against her breast.

  “Rain, I’ve got to go. Whatever I’ve done to hurt you, I apologize.” Tears escaped her eyes. “You need counseling.”

  Rain moved closer. “Stop stalling. And don’t tell me what I need. Today is the day, Victoria. Let’s do this. Let’s just get this over with, and you can go to work.”

  Did he think taking a woman’s virginity was simple? “Please move your dick out my face.” What if he raped her? How would she report him? His dick pointed at her mouth like she was speaking into a microphone. She suppressed her desire to take off her clothes and submit. “I won’t come back. And you’re no longer my client.”

  Why did he have to mess up a good thing?

  “Come home, Victoria. This is your home. The only reason I became your client was so I wouldn’t lose you completely. You think I give a damn about being your fucking client?”

  She knew he did. The way they sexed one another was insane. The first time she let Rain put his dick in her ass, they bonded. Each subsequent time he fucked her, she’d become more emotionally attached to him. She hated the way he made her feel—out of control. They’d fucked in every corner of his house before she married and moved in with Naomi.

  Rain snatched her arms away from her breasts, grabbed both her biceps, lifted her up from the sofa, then hoisted her in the air.

  “Ahhhhhh,” she screamed. Her feet dangled. She kicked him. Her gold-heeled stilettos plopped to the floor. “Ow! Put me down! Are you crazy!” She tried biting his face, but he was too far away.

  He rattled her body. “You think I’m some fucking joke, Victoria?” he asked, carrying her to his bedroom. He threw her on the bed. Straddled her. Tugged at her red blouse, popped all her buttons. Her breasts were exposed.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” he said, squeezing her titties.

  Victoria hurled her fist toward his nuts. He blocked her hand, then slapped her. His eyes narrowed, lips tightened. “Try that again,” he threatened.

  Victoria remembered when she was a teenager, DéJà made her and Foxy sit still and listen. DéJà had told them, “A woman’s wardrobe is her weapon. Always have at least three items on your person that can save your life. One, have a sturdy hairpin. Do not keep it in your purse, put it in your hair. Two, wear slip-on spiked heels. No closed-in shoes. Practice grabbing the toe of the shoe and holding it your hand. Your attacker’s eardrum or eyes is your target. And three, wear earrings with removable backs.”

  DéJà had taught them that metal necklaces, bracelets, and anklets could be used in self-defense. And as a teenager and a woman, DéJà kept a razor in a special compartment of her belt.

  Victoria screamed, “Stop it! All right! We can do this but don’t rape me!”

  Rain stopped. His knees were straddling her waist. He inched toward her neck. His dick hung over her face like she was defeated. “Yeah. Now, you’re starting to talk like you have sense. I love you, Victoria.”

  “You don’t know what love is. As long as you get your way, you’re happy. That’s sick. You’re sick. How in the hell did I—”

  “Don’t stop. Say it. How in the hell did you fall in love with me? Finish your sentence,” he said, flapping
his dick. “You know you want this. You know, you know you want this dick.”

  Once upon a time that made her smile. Not so long ago he could make her laugh.

  “You know you want to laugh. Go on,” he said.

  Victoria smiled. She removed the back from her hoop earring, held his dick in her hand, removed her earring, then stabbed it in the eye.

  “Bitch! Are you… fuck!” he yelled, covering his dick head.

  She started to scrape the metal post deep into his balls but changed her mind when he fell onto his side. His mouth stayed open; he couldn’t speak.

  Victoria scurried from the bed, grabbed her keys and shoes. She left his front door open, got in her car, sped out his driveway, headed home.

  He shouldn’t have hit her. Maybe his plan was to intimidate her and make her give in. That way she couldn’t cry rape. If he were serious about raping her, he would’ve done so. Considering all the times they’d had anal sex, Rain had had lots of opportunities to try, including yesterday. Was his “I love you” supposed to make her think he cared about her? Regardless of his intent, he’d gone too far.

  Rain had gotten what he deserved. Or had he?

  CHAPTER 19

  DéJà

  DéJà entered the shop, locked the door, went into the kitchen. There was no way she could prep and bake all the pastries before opening. Yesterday they’d lost morning revenue due to a shortage of baked items. The money wasn’t her main concern. Permanent reduction in clientele bothered her. If they started running out of pastries, the customers would patronize their competition. If one of her sisters didn’t show up soon, today would be a repeat.