Secrets of a Kept Woman (Volume 1) Read online

  This morning, I woke up in his arms, again. I live for the weekends and spending time with him. He loves spending time with me, so it’s obvious I’ve got something that you don’t. Oh, we are about to go eat, play some more tennis, then who knows. Life is good. You can email me back, but I doubt I'll answer! James and I will be out enjoying our time together. I love James LaQuinn, so move over bitch!

  Forever His Woman

  I had let her words sink in after re-reading them over and over again. Why was James staying with me for so long? Could it really be because he pitied me? It couldn’t just be because of the children. Men don’t stay with women for six long years just because of the children. They’re too selfish. Why could he just leave me be and let me go?

  Just thinking about that woman’s message, Dr. Phil’s wise words resounded in my mind, “In order for people to start taking you serious, you have to first take yourself serious.” It reminded me of my father’s words so long ago. It’s not that I was conditioned to believe a bogus, unidentifiable woman who was so chicken shit that she had to step to me over an email instead of in person, but James didn’t give me much hope for our marriage to hold onto, either. Between his violent temper towards me, his unexplained time away from home, and his lies, I couldn’t do anything but believe this whore’s story. It’s funny how we know the right things to do in life, but either choose not to, or are too afraid to put what we know into action.

  With that in mind, I decided to show James instead of tell him that I was capable of living my life without dealing with his abrasiveness and cheating behavior. And I was starting with this weekend away from home. Throwing caution to the wind and allowing the wind to move me closer to Miami, I was hyped to do something for me – live life – if only for a few days before I returned to the slow agonizing death that was my marriage.

  I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with him at this point, but I knew one thing was for sure – I wasn’t going to deal with it this weekend. A good friend once told me, "Gladys, you either get busy living, or get busy dying." It's funny how things work themselves out, but for the rest of my life this weekend would often be remembered as the beginning of the era that my life began. What began as a single weekend to regroup would soon turn into frequent trips to refresh my mind, body, and soul in the beautiful city of Miami.

  Chapter 6

  Rhonda

  I hung up the phone with Shayla and decided to indulge in round two with the fine specimen that rested quietly under my pink satin sheets, sleeping like a baby. Leaving my lacy red two-piece lingerie ensemble on the bedroom floor, I headed for a quick shower. After showering with my favorite vanilla shower gel and softening my mocha skin with a delicate lotion, I headed back into the bedroom and eased over to the bed exuding the sensuality of a lioness. I massaged my sleeping companion’s muscular body, starting at his chest and working down to his feet. A broad naughty smile spread across my face as he stirred about in the bed.

  His lower midsection responded just like I thought it would. No man could resist the power of my touch. When his eyes opened and a smile slowly crept upon his lips, I damn near exploded with thoughts of our early evening escapade. God, I love this man!

  Akin to an act of nature, he reached up and cupped my breasts, one in each hand. I could feel the heat radiating from his touch. The moment was perfect, until he spoke the untimely words that broke the mood.

  "What time is it, Ronnie? I gotta get going.”

  I responded in a feline whisper into his Burberry-scented, chocolate brown earlobe. "Time for round two."

  His manhood came to a peak under the silken sheets, letting me know I had his full attention. I lay next to him on my back and gently took his right hand into mine, guiding it to the abyss of wetness between my thighs. I needed him to feel the pleasures that awaited him there. I would give my last dime for him to fill the void in between my thighs forever.

  His face followed the wetness, and he said, “Mmmmm. I see lil’ mama still wet for Daddy,” as he flickered his tongue across my swollen lips before inserting his tongue deep into my love.

  “You tastin’ good, too,” he murmured softly.

  I felt the brink of an orgasmic wave coming down when he abruptly stopped his tongue tease and smacked me hard on the thigh.

  “What you stop for?” I asked caught between a tailspin and a hard place. I needed the feeling he was about to give me more than I needed air to breathe.

  “I gotta go. I got business to take care of.”

  Business? He couldn’t be serious. He was already taking care of business, and he needed to get back to the issue at hand. Instead of flipping out like I wanted to, I did the only thing I thought would make him stay. I begged.

  “Please, baby. Just stay a little while longer. Make love to me one more time. I want to feel you one more time tonight. I need to know that you care. Please stay. I love you.”

  Much to my dismay, he ignored my pleas, fidgeted around the floor until he found his pants, and retrieved his cell phone out of his pocket.

  “I was just teasing with ya’ ass. You know how I do,” he said flippantly, as he opened his cell phone case. “Fourteen missed calls?! Shit!” He jumped up. "You were supposed to wake me up at eight. What the fuck… ? It‘s 9:45!”

  Before I could respond, he had gathered his clothes off the floor and was closing the bathroom door behind him. I knew that he had to leave and why, which is exactly why I intentionally let him oversleep in the first place. Though Titus had not informed me about his plans for a romantic evening with Shayla, I knew all about their little plans. It was supposed to be a special night for my best friend and her husband, yet he had spent most of the night with me. Earlier that day, I helped Shayla’s pathetic ass shop for their dinner, candles, negligee, and the whole nine yards. It was actually quite funny shopping with her, knowing the whole while that I would be the one getting the true prize – his time.

  As soon as Shayla filled me in on the fact that she had planned to rekindle something special with Titus, I had to infiltrate. If I had anything to do with it, that would never happen. I laughed maniacally at the thought. Shayla, rekindling a romance with a man that rightfully belonged to me? That would be a negative.

  Just minutes ago, Shayla had been on the phone pouring her sweet little heart out about Titus when all along I was the reason she was home alone. She was probably at home right now, making the difficult choice of which vibrator to use, and I could care less about whether she was fucking the pink rabbit or the Mocha Chocolate dildo tonight. I helped her ‘need some love’ butt pick them both out. I swear, she could be so pathetic.

  If years of friendship went down the drain over Titus, then so be it. I loved him with all that I had in me to love. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Shayla like a sister, but the love that I had for Titus was second to none. I felt like vomiting in my throat every time I watched him cater to that bitch. The concern and care that Titus displayed for Shayla, ‘his wifey’, was sickening. More importantly, his affections belonged to me! And it was high time he figured that tidbit out.

  A gangster needs a down ass bitch on his team, not some whiny ass wife that was always talking about her feelings and shit. In a world that was so cold, all that feelings could get you were a wet pussy and a broken heart, or even worse… dead. So, fuck a feeling.

  I hated standing around in the background and getting the leftover scraps, but I gave in to the understanding that having part of him was better than nothing at all.

  “I want you – all or nothing, right now, Titus!” I directed the words toward the bathroom door, knowing he couldn’t hear me with the shower running. He would never agree to leaving her, anyway. Yet, he deserved so much more. Only a woman who has been in my position could understand the frustration that you feel, knowing that he has this deep and inexplicable love for someone else when you’re the one that can give him everything he needs.

  All through high school, the boys I had crushes on always seemed to pursue
Shayla because of her flawless light skin and naturally curly hair. She had that Halle Berry look – a beauty from birth. I’ll admit that she flaunted it well.

  Though we were thick as thieves, a tiny part of me envied the fact that she could attract any guy she wanted just by walking in the room. That envy festered within the pit of my soul until I acted upon it by fucking the one person she loved, Titus. It wasn’t like he was the first one of Shayla’s boyfriends that I had crept with. In the 11th grade, I broke off a boy she was calling herself liking – preppy ass Carlton Levette – with a little sum’n sum’n right under the bleachers during the homecoming game.

  While Shayla was on the field performing her halftime routine, Carlton brought on his A-game performance, getting his groove on right on top of me.

  Having Carlton scream out my name, “Ronnie… Oh, Ronnie!” right there in the middle of the game was the most gratifying experience I had ever had at that point in my young life. It was my way of proving that I could outdo Shayla, even if it was just by out-sexing her man.

  I wanted a piece of Shayla’s world, so I took it. I used what I had to get what I wanted. It was as simple as that. I did what I had to do, knowing that once Carlton and Titus got a taste of a real woman, they would be hooked.

  But I wasn’t satisfied with just creeping with Titus. Today was our anniversary – two years since the first time we took our friendship to the next level. I’d have been damned if I was going to wake him up to go home to his wife tonight to lay in a scented Jacuzzi, sip champagne and make love to her.

  Besides me being second to Shayla in her presence, my baby had been good to me over the last two years. He told me that as long as I kept our rendezvous our little secret, he would keep my pockets lined and my bed warm. That was a happy arrangement for me, until now. My feelings had grown, like it or not. Now, I wanted more.

  Unlike Shayla, I gave Titus what he needed in a woman, and in return, he made sure that I was well taken care of with money. My man bought me anything my pretty little head could dream up. Of course, I didn’t have the seventy-five-hundred square foot Victorian home, my choice of luxury cars, and the black Visas that Shayla had the luxury of possessing. I also doubted very seriously that he stood around bitching and trembling over missing my calls, either. But, as far as I was concerned, those things were about to change real soon.

  Chapter 7

  Titus

  Within five minutes, I had showered and was fully dressed. Standing in front of Ronnie, I was hotter than a fire cracker with her sexy ass. I wanted to slap the taste out of her mouth, but against my vengeful judgment I decided to let her slide for not waking me up on time. I knew that beneath her hard exterior, she was just in puppy love with a nigga, man. She tried to play hard like some kind of Gangsta Boo all the time, but her feelings were wrapped all up in this so-called relationship. I guess one could call it a relationship of sorts, and having another one was exactly what I didn’t need to be doing right now. To me, our little fling was something to do – for fun, not a love connection. In the beginning, she said she felt the same way, but I knew better. I’ve been in the game too long to believe that.

  I pulled out a stack of cash and left it on her nightstand. I yanked her close to me, wrapping my arms around her tight enough to let her know she was fucking with a real nigga, and squeezed that ass one more time before I left.

  “Keep that thang tight for me, Ronnie. I don’t want to hear about you and another nigga over here fucking around. I’m the only one that can hit that, so don’t make me catch a case.” I smacked her hard on the ass and said, “I’ma holla at you later in the week.”

  Opening the door to her bedroom, I hurried toward the front door, but not before telling her, "Even though what you pulled was foul, I left a little something for you to shop with on your nightstand.”

  If Rhonda was any of my other women, I swear that I would have slapped her silly ass serious for not waking me up on time, especially since her brain dead ass had no excuse for not doing like she was told. There are two things I don’t deal well with: discrepancies with my time or discrepancies with my money. I didn’t ask my women to do nothing but shop, look sexy at all times, and do whatever the fuck I told them to do.

  I seriously thought about administering that thorough backhand, over-the-shoulder, pimp slap to Rhonda’s pretty little jaw for disobeying me; however, one thing I learned early in the game was to always respect my inner circle. Those are the people that truly have my back, and Ronnie was definitely down for whatever. Therefore, I did not put my hands on her out of respect, but she was really beginning to test a real nigga like T. Rhonda, and especially Shayla, had been lucky to not be privy to my wrath, but when other tricks got foul they were straight up casualties of war, man let me tell you. Check my dental records. Titus Wilson don’t play the radio!

  Man, I feel like shit for letting Shayla down again, I thought as I turned the front door handle. That’s when I felt Rhonda’s soft hand grab my arm jerking me back around to face her.

  "Are you sure you can't just stay, babe?” she spoke softly, tears rolling down her face. She sounded damn near pathetic. “You can keep the money,” she continued her dramatics. “I just want you with me. It feels so right when we’re together. You don't have to go running home to Shayla all the time."

  I could tell by the look on her face that Rhonda was speaking more out of desperation than wanting me to stay, and I didn’t have time for her games. She had this rivalry thing going with Shayla that I didn’t think was cute or effective.

  "You know I can't do that,” I told her, raising an eyebrow, hoping she would get the picture fast. I checked my Rolex, and it read fifteen-after-ten. I really didn’t have time for her titty-baby shit tonight.

  “You can do what you want, Titus, and we both know that.” She walked closer to me, put her arms around my neck, and looked into my eyes, giving me that bedroom look that I loved to see on her. It was cute, but again, not effective enough to keep me from getting home to my wife after I’d promised her I would be there. I maneuvered her arms from around my neck and stepped back.

  “I don't know why you always try to play dumb when you know what the deal is.”

  “Let’s change the deal, then. It can be me and you.”

  Aw shit, I thought. She thought she was about to get me caught up in another hour of this whining, and I didn’t have time for the boo boo. “Look, little mama, I'm a married man, remember? I’m your best friend’s husband, not yours. It's bad enough I got to deal with her when I get home. I ain’t got time for this.”

  “But Titus…” she attempted to put her arms back around my neck, but I blocked her this time and placed her arms back at her sides.

  “No, ‘but Titus’. It is what it is. I don’t have time to run down your role to you again. Time is money, remember? Do you want to be the cause of a nigga like T losing money?”

  She shook her pathetic head from side to side, and I continued, “Then keep your damn hands off of me! I got to go."

  My temper was about to get the best of me. As each second passed, Ronnie was looking more and more like a bugaboo, almost like one of those nagging tricks that I had to pop with a few licks a time or two. Why is it that a jumpoff always forgets that she’s just a jumpoff? Ronnie should have been thrilled that she was given as much time, attention, and respect as she was getting. Instead, she wasn’t satisfied and was trying to play a nigga to get more. She must’ve forgotten who she was dealing with for a minute.

  “You know the game, Ronnie. Respect the rules, and you will be okay with this,” I said, turning back around to open the door. I was giving her another chance to redeem herself and be the woman I needed her to be. I didn’t even look in her direction to gauge her response and allow her to disappoint me. I had to get home.

  She screamed, "Since you want to treat me like I’m a jump off, then why weren’t you at home with your little ‘wifey’ earlier tonight sipping champagne, laying in the Jacuzzi, and eating
the gourmet meal that her pathetic ass slaved over the stove all evening preparing?!”

  I rubbed my eyes in anguish. A part of me told me to just walk on through the door that I had open by now and go home, but the other part of me knew I had to have gotten this conversation twisted. Was Rhonda seriously stepping to me with some bullshit?

  When I didn’t respond, she continued, this time sounding even bolder, because I was stuck in a stupor. “If you had been home, then maybe she wouldn’t have been on the phone with me just a few minutes ago, crying her weak little heart out. Seems to me like she’s been downgraded to the jump off, so let’s just keep it real here!”

  Oh, so this bitch had played me by not waking me up on purpose. “What did you just say?” I wanted to hear it again. I had to be sure I wasn’t mistaken. Preparing for her to repeat her verbal assault, I bit down on my lip, hands folding into a knot, and I was ready to punch a hole in something. I had to hear her say the words again, though. Surely, I had gotten it wrong the first time, because Ronnie had seen me in action and knew not to disrespect a real nigga like T.

  “Oh, you heard me right, nigga! I don't know why you bother with her weak ass, anyway. She’s weak as well water, always whining and crying about you. You should hear her. I’m getting tired of listening to her shit, myself. Just look at what you give up every time you go running to her. I’m fame, and Shayla, while she’s as sweet as she wants to be, is lame. Today, you moaned and screamed my name and told me you never wanted to leave me. Tonight, you have to make a choice between me or her.”

  Not realizing that she had just hurdled past the point of no return, Ronnie held her arms out to show off her shapely thighs and copious hips. All the while my mind was traveling to a place that she didn’t really want me to go. She had the nerve to roll her tongue suggestively.