A Weekend Affair (8 page)

In a whisper, she said, “Yes.”

I lifted her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me. My lips took hers, hands wandering to her ample hips, then to her full breasts. I parted her lips with my tongue, inviting myself into her mouth. A moan escaped from her throat. I pulled her closer to me, heat emanating from between her thighs. Pressing myself into her, I allowed her to feel what I was working with; that part of me that wished we weren't separated by something as trivial as clothing. Yeah, her mouth said her husband mattered, but her body was saying something entirely different.

Shell pulled back, her breathing hitched. “Carl, why? Why me?” Her self-esteem issues clearly evident.

I had been completely honest with her, and I wasn't about to start lying now.

I looked her in the eyes and said, “Because I want you.”

I stood there looking at the man in front of me. We had come to a standstill. I'd invited him back to the house, inside of my personal space. Yet, I didn't think I could go through with the actual act of having sex with him. The room was dark, the only light was by the moon. The large bay windows were open and the nightlife of Tybee Island serenaded us. Storm clouds were rolling in as light rain started to fall. Downstairs, we'd left Gabby and Diego to their own devices.

Nervousness settled into my spine as I stood between Carl's legs while he sat on the edge of the bed. Gone were his shirt, slacks, socks, and shoes. All he had on were on his black boxer briefs that did little to hide his arousal. He mindlessly rubbed my thighs while he placed kisses against my stomach. I didn't have abs. Years of bad eating and minimal exercising had added fluffiness where flat planes should have been. Carl didn't seem to care though. All he'd wanted me to do was say yes . . . .

We both had a good laugh. Diego was a tall, strapping brother. His mixed heritage had brought out the best of both cultures in him. He was no slouch, and Gabby would be crazy to let all that slip away without at least a sample. Honey-golden eyes, strong chin with that perfect Werther's Original complexion, and a gait that made even me swoon. Normally, men his height had a kind of goofy disposition in the way they carried themselves, but not Diego. He stood like he'd invented
GQ
, same as Carl.

Now my nervousness had gotten the better of me. I wanted to back off. Felt the urge to go back on that yes and tell him no. But he was sitting in front of me damn near naked. Underneath that expensive suit he wore showed there was more to Carl than met the eye. His suit had hidden the Kemetian tribal tattoo that covered his upper back. On his neck was an ankh tattoo while his arm boasted of the brand that told he'd pledged purple and gold. This man was a walking African god if I ever saw one, thick and sinewy with muscle.

He stood, and I found myself trying hard to breathe. I inhaled so hard my chest started to hurt. Was I really about to cheat on my husband? Should I even care at this point? There was a lump in my throat as I absentmindedly ran a hand through my braids. No, two wrongs didn't make a right, but, for once, I was thinking about doing something that would make
me
happy.

“Carl?” I called out to him just to slow down the moment.

“Shell.”

“What if we—what if we do this and neither one of us likes it?”

“There is always that possibility, but I'm guessing that you already know that won't be the case.”

Thunder boomed through the heavens right as lightning ripped across the sky. I jumped. Carl chuckled.

“You're nervous, and that's fine. If you don't want to do anything, just say so.”

Easier said than done,
I thought. My body was craving something that I hadn't had in over a year. My husband used to make me come, and he used to be very skilled in the oral sex department, but something had been missing as of late. I was always left needing more.

That didn't matter, though. Carl lifted me from the floor just as a strong wind blew into the room carrying a mist of rain behind it. He gently eased me onto the middle of the bed. I arched and moaned when he eased my underwear to the side, then let two of his long, thick fingers slip inside of me. My vaginal walls enclosed around his fingers. Eyelids fluttered when he expertly started to move them in and out of me.

“
Hmmmm,
” I gasped.

“Damn,” he murmured. “So wet and tight.”

He removed his fingers, urged me to lift my hips so he could drag my boyshorts down until he tossed them behind him. Kneeling down at the foot of the bed, he pulled me to him. Before I could brace myself for what was to come, he placed gentle kisses against my lips and pearl. Did that like he knew the ins and outs of my desires. He took his time while letting his tongue slip between my folds. There was nothing like a man who knew how to practice the art of oral sex.

My hands gripped the green comforter on the bed, then found his braided locs to hold him in place against my clitoris. My hips lifted from the bed to keep up with the intense pleasure he was giving me. I could only hope the roar of the storm could hide the cries of pleasure erupting from me. I rolled my hips in sync with the movements of his head. Felt myself about to release like never before. It had been so long since I'd had an orgasm that I was sure I was about to explode.

Just before I did, though, Carl pulled back. He stepped out of his boxer briefs and blessed me with the gift of sight. My eyes widened at the sight of his manhood. The long, thick, two-toned work of art was riddled with veins. I had a thing for dicks with visible veins. Meant the blood flow there was without obstruction. And it was clear where all the blood had rushed in Carl's body. When his dick bobbed up and down, I blew out air.

I watched as he grabbed the golden-wrapped condom, ripped it open, then slid it on. There was something sexy about a man putting on a condom. I couldn't explain it, but seeing a man take his safety just as seriously as I took mine turned me on. My eyes watched him as he crawled onto the bed, caged me between his arms, and then brought his lips back down to mine. His kiss had been a distraction. He kissed me so the surprise of his head breaking skin wouldn't cause me to lose my mind. God, he felt so damn good. I broke the kiss when I gasped out for air. Tiny whimpers of pain and pleasure told of my satisfaction.

“Oh shit,” I breathed out.

As he slinked deeper into me, he held eye contact. It was the most intense thing I'd ever experienced. I didn't know if he was really pretending I was his wife, and at that point, I didn't care. All I knew was when his hips started to rock against mine, everything seemed right in my world. It wasn't a slow groove, but it wasn't a fast one. It was one that told me he was looking for pleasure and aching to give it in return.

His breathing intensified with each stroke. I made sure to fight through my walls stretching to accommodate him. I forgot about the slight pain and focused on the deep pleasure. Carl was so deep, I couldn't tell where he ended and I began. His hands gripped mine and held them over my head before he moved his hands back down to hold my thighs. From my eyes, to my ears, to my lips, Carl kissed me. He didn't forget about my nipples either.