A Weekend Affair (17 page)

I got an aching between my thighs that only he could cure. He had one of those dicks that looked like it had been molded by the hands of God himself. I counted four veins that sat out in regal attention. I wanted to run my tongue from the base of his shaft to the mushroom crown of its head. I licked my lips like I could already taste him there. Wasn't sure how I felt about wanting to suck another man off who wasn't my husband.

But I for damn sure was thinking hard about it.

My heart started to race as he slid the shower door back and stepped inside.

“You order the food?” I asked as if the temperature in the room hadn't shot up a notch.

“I did,” he answered, then closed the gap between us in the shower.

The sound of the water created an ambiance of being near a waterfall. His big hands held my waist as he gazed down at me, the heady look in his eyes forcing me to look away to get my bearings.

“What did you get?”

“Let it surprise you. Besides, I don't want to hear you complain about what you can't afford and what's too expensive.”

I chuckled lightly, placed my arms around his neck. “I'm a country girl who's not used to such frivolous spending.”

He smiled . . . more like gave a smirk before dipping his head to take my mouth. Pulling me closer, he let his hands travel over the dip in my back and land on my backside. I could feel him hardening against my stomach. I moaned out loud. Couldn't help it. Carl's tongue was working magic in my mouth. The scent of Dove permeated the space. It tickled my senses as Carl's natural scent intoxicated me.

He pulled back from the kiss, lowered his head, and took one of my breasts into his mouth. My head dropped back while my hands fisted his locs. I loved when a man remembered I had
two
breasts and paid them both the same kind of attention.

When he moved down further, kneeled down in front of me while placing a trail of kisses from the valley between my breasts down my navel, my legs started to shake. He threw my right leg over his shoulder and sucked my clit into his mouth.

I hissed. Gripped his locs tighter. My mouth was open, eyes shut tight as I called on God.

“Shit, Carl . . .”

I glanced down at him to see he was all in. His face smothered in my pussy as his tongue vibrated against the only part of my body made strictly for pleasure. While I was trying to recuperate from the intense feeling of an orgasm on the horizon, he inserted two fingers inside of me. I came instantly, almost slipping in the process because of the quake in my womb.

“Oh my God! Carl, stop. I'm going to f-fall . . . Ahhhhh . . .”

If Malik had walked in right then with a gun aimed at me I wouldn't have been able to stop. I was too far gone. So far gone, in fact, that when Carl stood and lifted me around his waist, I didn't think about the fact he didn't have a condom on. Not until I felt how intense . . . Oh God . . . there he was . . . inside of me . . . raw. I bit down on my bottom lip and growled as I hid my face in his shoulder. I had to stop. We had to stop. He knew it too.

“Shit,” I heard him mumble.

Playing with fire was what we were doing. The feel of him inside of me uninhibited made me feel savage. Made me feel as if I was in a mating ritual, one where Carl belonged to me and only me.

“We have to stop . . . condom,” I murmured through bated breaths.

“I know,” he said.

We were doing wrong. So wrong. Trying to have what couldn't be. I pulled my head up and looked down at him. He'd weakened me. Gotten me to the point that I didn't care about the consequences of my actions. I had to pull back. Needed to be responsible.

“Get a condom, please,” I asked of him.

I inhaled hard when he made his dick jump inside of me. Since neither of us were moving, I could feel every pulsating sensation he made inside of me. But he knew we couldn't do this. We couldn't travel a road of
what if
and let the chips fall where they may. He took me from his waist and grabbed my hand as we exited the shower.

“Lie down,” he told me.

My body still wet from the shower, I crawled onto the bed. I watched in eager anticipation as he ripped open a condom and expertly rolled it on. My thighs were already open. I was so willing, so ready to let him have me. When he crawled between my thighs . . . caged me between his arms . . . slipped inside of me so agonizingly slow, I knew it was going to be hard to say good-bye when the weekend was over.

We were stuck in Hilton Head for the duration. The storm showed no sign of letting up, and even if it did and we had a chance of getting back to Tybee Island, Shell was so caught up playing house with Carl I didn't think I'd be able to separate them with a blowtorch, C
₄
, or dynamite. After our meeting in the hallway, it was evident that she was completely enamored with him. I'd let her live her fantasy of being Mrs. Mischelle Robinson for the duration, because all too soon, we'd be returning to reality.

When I left to talk to Shell, Diego was taking a shower. I got back, and he was already dressed, wearing a white tank top, a pair of white, black, and red basketball shorts; and a pair of white and black Nike Air Max 2015 running shoes. He looked just as good in casual attire as he did in business wear.

“Mind if I take a shower now?”

“It's all yours. I imagine Carl and Shell won't be coming up for air anytime soon,” he presumed.

I shook my head. “So it seems. They're in fairy tale lockdown, pretending they're married to each other. Go figure,” I shrugged.

“I'm not even going to attempt to try to figure that one out,” he said, laughing.

“Agreed. Trying to understand this whole situation is making my brain hurt.”

“So don't think about it. You two will be heading back to Tybee Island tomorrow, so whatever is going on between those two will be over. That'll be the end of it,” he deduced, grabbing his wallet and keycard off the desk.

“I hope you're right, because I can't take much more of their scandalous lovefest,” I said. “Are you going downstairs?” I questioned.

“Yes. I'm going down to the shop. Write down what you want me to pick up,” he said, handing me the pad and pen that were sitting on his nightstand.

I took it from him, leaned on the desk, and wrote down all the toiletries I needed.

“I really hate asking you this, but can you do me a huge favor?”

“What is it?” he inquired.

“Shell said there's a boutique downstairs. It's called the Omni Boutique. Would you mind seeing what they have since I don't have a change of clothes?”

“Sure, no problem,” he replied. “You actually trust my judgment?”

I shrugged. “Looking at the way you dress yourself, I think you'll pick something nice.”

“So you like the way I dress, do you?” he asked, that perfect smile on his face.

“Still fishing for compliments, I see,” I teased, pulling Diego's oversized shirt over my head, handing it to him. “I'm going to take my shower.”

He licked his lips, looking me up and down. I noticed the already-impressive bulge in his shorts had gotten even larger. “On second thought, I could always go downstairs later. Want some company?”

My body wanted to say yes over and over again, but my common sense was telling me, “Don't even think about it.” At that moment, common sense won out.

“Enticing as that offer sounds, I'll pass,” I said, a slight smile on my face.

He moved a few steps closer, his altitudinous stature causing me to strain my neck. He smelled good, like Egyptian Musk.

“Are you sure?”

The look he was giving me with those honey-colored eyes of his was so sexy, seductive, and hypnotizing, I found myself about to give into his charms. I looked down at his penis that was now standing in full salute, then all the way back up to his handsome face. A few more seconds and Diego could have done with me whatever he wanted—that was, until I heard his phone buzz. It was sitting on the desk. I could see the name of the caller. It was Ricki. The name I could have sworn I heard him say early this morning when he was on the phone.

I smirked at him, saying, “Oh yeah, so sure. You might want to get that.”

Diego looked from me to his phone. Seeing he had no chance of getting me in the shower, or anywhere else for that matter, he answered the phone.

“Hello,” he said, sounding annoyed. He adjusted himself in his shorts and walked toward the door, leaving me shaking my head.

Walking into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror, noticing all the passion marks Diego had left on various parts of my body. I was hoping the ones on my neck would fade by the time I had to go to work on Tuesday. Didn't need anybody in my business.

After I turned on the shower, I put on the shower cap I found on the bathroom counter next to the bottles of hotel lotion, shampoo, and conditioner. When the water felt just right, I stepped into the tub. I used the little bar of hotel soap to wash my face, then lathered up a washcloth. The water felt good running down my back. It was warm and comforting.

I took deep cleansing breaths trying to clear my mind of everything, but try as I might, my thoughts kept wandering back to Diego. I still couldn't believe I slept with him, let alone on the first night of meeting him. Here I was, thirty-nine years old, acting like some college kid on spring break. I didn't even act like that when I was in college.

Yes, Diego was very appealing to the eye, charming, smart, and funny, but he was also arrogant, egotistical, and way too sure of himself. Definitely not the type of man I'd be involved with at all, not even for an occasional romp in the hay. Especially because I didn't do casual sex—until last night, that is. Maybe I was going through a midlife crisis. Or maybe it was simply because I hadn't been with anyone in over a year and my hormones had gotten the better of me. Whatever it was, like I told Shell, I didn't regret it. Regardless, I wouldn't have to worry about it, nor Diego, after tomorrow.

I was still in the shower when he returned. I turned off the water, grabbing a large towel off the rack. Once I had dried off, I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped out of the shower.

Diego poked his head inside the bathroom.

“I got everything on your list. And I found a few things for you in the boutique. I hope you like them,” he said, placing two bags on the counter. One was from the Palmetto Market, the other from the Omni Boutique.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“You're welcome,” he said, giving me my privacy.

Removing my towel and folding it neatly, I placed it on the floor. I used the deodorant, lotion, and baby powder that I found in the Palmetto Market bag. Curious to see what he had gotten from the boutique, I took everything out of the bag and saw that he had bought me a black sleep shirt that read “I lost my virginity on Hilton Head Island” printed in big light blue letters. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw it. He also bought a pair of black lace boyshorts, a black bandeau bra top with matching panties, two pairs of black socks, a turquoise tank top, and a turquoise and black tennis skirt. I had to give it to the man; he did have good taste. Just by looking at everything, I could tell he had chosen the correct sizes.

I pulled the price tags off of everything, then donned a pair of socks, the boyshorts, and the sleep shirt. I placed the other clothes and toiletries in one bag, while tossing my dirty clothes in the other. As I went to throw away the price tags, I realized how expensive everything was. If I wasn't desperate, I would have made Diego take it all back. As it stood, I had no choice but to use what he bought for me, but I would definitely be reimbursing him for all of it.

Carrying the bags out of the bathroom, I placed them next to the bedroom couch. Diego was lying on the king-size bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. He had taken off his sneakers, as well as his shirt. I couldn't help but admire his perfectly sculpted arms and chest, not to mention his rock-hard abs. He looked as if he was asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. I wouldn't be surprised, considering how little sleep we had both gotten. He must have heard me because his eyes opened.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” I said.

“Wasn't sleeping,” he replied, looking in my direction.

I sat down on the bed. “Cute,” I said, pointing to the words on the sleep shirt, making us both laugh. “Thank you for buying all that stuff,” I said. “But you really didn't have to spend all that money. I'm going to pay you back.”

“No need,” he replied.

“The things you bought fit perfectly. How did you know what sizes to get?”

“That was easy,” he said. “I just asked the saleswoman where the pint-size section was,” he teased.

“Screw you, Diego,” I kidded, a smile on my face.

“Just say the word,” he replied in a tone so sexy I had to divert my gaze from his, the heat rising in my cheeks. He had me feeling some type of way, and I was trying my best not to let anything else happen between us.

Sidestepping his comment, I replied, “I can't let you pay for all that. I don't have my checkbook on me now, but I promise you I will pay you back.”

Diego shook his head. “Like I told you before, there's no need. Consider it my gift to you for the good company. You saved me from having to look at Carl's mug for most of the weekend,” he said with a wink.

“Well, thank you,” I said, laughing. “You're pretty good company yourself.”

“I also wanted to thank you for what you did for me earlier,” he said.

I could only assume he was referring to our stairwell sexcapade. “You're welcome. My method may have been unorthodox, but you have to admit, it was effective.”

“Yes,
very
effective. I have to say, you surprised me. I did
not
see that coming,” he remarked, a sly look on his face.

“Heck, I surprised myself. And for the record, I couldn't see you coming, but I most
definitely
felt it,” I replied, pretending to fan myself.

That got a hearty laugh out of Diego. “Are you hungry?”

I know he was referring to food, but looking at his extremely fit physique I could think of something else that I was hungry for. I quickly pushed that thought away. I knew all too well how easy it was to get caught up in good sex. I had a firsthand view of that with Shell. Besides, the sex with Diego wasn't just good, it was phenomenal, so I definitely couldn't afford to let that happen to me.

“I'm starving,” I said.

He got off the bed, picking up the room service menu. Sitting back down next to me, he said, “Pick whatever you want, and I'll call downstairs.”

We both looked through the menu. When I told him I was starving, it wasn't a lie. I hadn't eaten much since breakfast. I made my selection, then, passing the menu to Diego, he made his. He also picked out a nice bottle of Moscato d'Asti.

Once he called in our order, the conversation turned back to the reason for Diego's earlier freak-out.

“I can't believe I panicked like a little bitch, and now you know I have an issue with being in total darkness. Aside from my parents, no one else knows, not even Carl.”

He lay back down, looking up at the ceiling.

I had never personally seen anyone have a panic attack, not even in practice as a doctor, but I knew the signs. Even though I couldn't see Diego when the lights went out, I could hear the signs loud and clear. His speech was erratic; his breathing increased to the point where I thought he was going to hyperventilate. Turning toward him, I sat cross-legged on the bed. I stared at him for a moment, trying to choose my words carefully. There was nothing worse than a man whose pride was wounded. Scratch that; there was nothing worse than a
black
man whose pride was wounded.

“Diego, you had . . . a moment, based on a traumatic event from your childhood. Today just happened to be a trigger. It's like a form of posttraumatic stress. I get it. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Is that your professional psychological assessment, Doctor?” he asked, looking over at me, grinning.

Smiling back, I replied, “Why, yes, it is. Look,” I said, seriousness in my tone, “it takes a strong man to admit something like that, especially to a stranger. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you,” he responded.

We heard a knock at the door. “Hold that thought,” he said, getting up from the bed, walking to the living room.

He asked who it was before opening it. Once he confirmed it was room service, he let the server in. The young man wheeled in a cart containing two covered plates, utensils wrapped in expensive-looking cloth napkins, the bottle of Moscato in an ice bucket, and two wineglasses.

The server handed Diego the bill. He looked it over carefully, then signed it. Taking his wallet out of his pocket, he pulled out some money, handing it, along with the bill, to the server. After the young man thanked him repeatedly for what I assumed was a generous tip, they said their good-byes, and he left.

“Would you prefer to eat in the bedroom or out here in the living room?” Diego asked, just loud enough for me to hear him.

“In here is fine,” I responded.

He wheeled the cart into the bedroom, positioning it so we could both reach it. He removed the covers from both plates, revealing the mouthwatering food. Not only did it look delicious, it smelled wonderful. Diego removed the cork from the Moscato, poured us both a glass, then recorked the bottle.

I didn't even wait for Diego to start eating I was that hungry. “You sure you're going to eat all that?” he asked.

“Watch me,” I said, finishing off my crab cake, then tearing into my main course. “And if I'm still hungry, I might eat some of yours.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I would ask where you put it all, but I think I already know.”

“And where would that be?” I questioned.

“That pretty ass of yours that you claim I can't help but look at,” he teased. Diego was savoring his food, taking his time with it, just like he did with me last night.