Page 90 of False Start
“Yes,” I murmur, barely able to form words as I come closer to the cliff of ecstasy.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me.”
And then I dive over the cliff, and he goes with me. He pulses inside me, filling me with his seed, as he continues to fuck me through my own orgasm. And I hate that it’s the best orgasm of my life. I hate that I can’t stop falling apart around him.
When I come down from the stratosphere, he’s still hunched over my back, breathing hard to catch his breath. He’s still inside me as my shame washes over me. I pull away, step around him, and find my nightgown and robe.
He’s still standing in the middle of my living room hanging out of his pants. “Zhanna…”
“Get out.”
“We can’t just fuck and not talk.”
“We very well can, because it’s all I have left to offer. You ensured that when you came in that bitch’s mouth. Now, get out.”
He pulls himself together and then makes his way to me. He tries to lean down to kiss me, but I turn my head. “We’re not done, Z.”
“We were done the minute the vase went through the windows. Lock the door behind you, and for fuck’s sake, sign the divorce papers,” I say and head for my bedroom to effectively end any further conversation.
I shut my bedroom door, sink to the floor, and cry.
— 31 —
Then
I’D LIKE TO SAY the last time I was intimate with Bryant was the first night I saw him after we split, but I can’t.
And how am I supposed to know if a man will take the time to find my G-spot like Bryant seems to do every time we’re together? I hear other women talk. I know most men aren’t as talented as my ex in the bedroom.
“You’ve got that look on your face again,” Leslie says as I stare into the distance, lost in thought.
I came home from an away game late last night. Leslie always misses Zina and I when we’re gone for work.
“What look?”
“The one you’re wearing that says full of regret. You and Mr. Football Star did the hokey pokey last night.”
I roll my eyes.We so did. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Leslie smacks his lips. “Lyin’ ass ho.”
Zina snorts from across the courtyard as she lounges in a hammock. “She looked like he’d rode her hard when she showed up at the airport. Hard to believe you two have been divorced a year the way you still go at it like rabbits.”
“Ew,” Leslie says. “Airport bathroom sex?”
I shrug. It’s better I let them think it’s the only disgusting place we screwed yesterday. I’m ashamed of myself.
“The Holy Spirit has come down and spoken to me, and it has advised me the two of you are bringing your narrow asses to my show tonight. Be cute.” He snaps his fingers back and forth and purses his lips. “Feel yo’self. I go on at 11:00, so have a drink in your hand and your rear end in a seat near the stage by 10:45.”
Leslie grills us hamburgers before he takes his ritualistic afternoon beauty nap before a big show. Zina and I curl up in our respective hammocks and also nap and read a book. I enjoy the quiet of the courtyard Leslie and I fixed up when I first moved here over a year ago. It’s nice to have a place in the middle of the city to call my own.
At around six, Zina and I order takeout and then begin showering and primping. And by nine, we’ve had dinner and we’re out the door headed to Sparkles, the club Leslie performs at Thursday- Saturday.
I teeter in my heels toward the door of Sparkles and pull at the impossibly short dress Zina insisted I wear. I love being sexy, but there’s a way to be classically sexy without looking like a slut. I’m unaccustomed to such attire, but try to appear more comfortable in my own skin than I really am.
Inside at the bar, we start a tab and share a celebratory shot. Leslie and his best friend, Reeva, join us for a few more shots just before the show begins at 10:00.
Leslie rallies us together. “Let’s get you to the table.”
