The Man in 3B (11 page)

He stood slowly, as if making sure I wouldn’t run over and tackle him, which I was trying very hard not to do. “Baby, who are we kidding here?” he said cautiously, then picked up steam when I didn’t haul off and hit him. “I didn’t have to say it. You know there’s been a distance growing between us for some time now. I love you. You are a good woman. You’ve always been good to me. It’s just that I want something different in a woman.”

I stopped pacing and turned to him. “Nigga, is you crazy?” I roared, the ghetto rising up out of me. “All I’ve done for you… If you wanna be real about things now, I’m the one who should have asked for a divorce when your sorry ass made us lose our house and cars.
And you wonder why I picked up weight. Stressin’ over whether or not I was gonna have a roof over my head.”

I couldn’t help the tears that filled the rims of my eyes. Before I knew it, I was storming off toward the bedroom.

“Wait, Connie. Where you going?” he asked, taking a few steps toward me.

“Where am I going?” I mocked. “To get my gun so I can blow your muthafuckin’ head off. That’s where the fuck I’m going,” I raged. The next thing I knew, he was behind me, holding both of my arms to keep me from moving forward.

“Get off of me!” I yelled, turning around to face him as I broke loose from his grip. By now, hot tears were pouring down my cheeks onto the cleavage that my husband apparently found so unappealing. I could see now that there was no pleasing him. He didn’t want me. My man wanted a divorce. I was hurt, embarrassed, and pissed the fuck off all at the same time, a mix of emotions like a tornado brewing inside of me.

“I know you’re hurting,” Avery said. “I’m hurting too. As a matter of fact, the other day, on my actual birthday, I was honestly about to commit suicide.”

“Then you should have had the balls to do it,” I said even though I doubted it was true. “You would have saved me the trouble of having to clean up your blood and brain matter from my living room floor.” On that note, I resumed my trek to the bedroom to retrieve my gun.

“No, Connie, don’t! Wait!” he pleaded, once again grabbing my arms.

“Get off of me!” I pushed away from him so forcefully that he almost toppled over. My own strength surprised me—and scared me a little. I realized that if I didn’t get myself under control, things could turn out very badly for me. God knows the neighbors had probably already heard the commotion and called the police.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a few deep breaths and counted to five, then opened my eyes and pointed to the door. “Go,” I said as calmly as I could. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

He looked surprised. I guess he hadn’t expected things to go quite
like this. Can’t say I blamed him, considering how long I’d been taking his shit without any complaint.

“Well, can I at least get some of my shit?” he asked.

I turned my back on him and walked toward the kitchen. “Get your shit and get out of my house. I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

I stayed in the kitchen, slamming around pots and pans as I thought about all the disrespect I’d suffered over the years. And then the final indignity of announcing he wanted a divorce right after he busted a nut! Oh, I was fuming—until I heard the door slam as Avery walked out.

That sound echoed in my head like a gunshot, replacing my anger with fear. What the hell had just happened? I looked down at my body, at the extra rolls of flesh around my middle that Avery had convinced me were so unappealing. Suddenly I wondered what other man would ever want me?

I ran to the bedroom and what I saw made my heart drop. The closet door was open and Avery’s side was totally empty. Every dresser drawer was hanging out, and there was nothing in them. All of Avery’s clothes were gone. This fool was serious!

I threw on a robe and bolted out of the apartment, down the stairway, calling out, “Avery! Avery, come back!”

Outside on the stoop, I looked frantically up and down the street. There was no sign of Avery or his car. Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time there was no rage. It was pure sadness.

What have I done? How could I let my man walk out of my life? I’ve got to get him back.

“Connie?”

I turned around to see Daryl standing there, looking very concerned.

“Everything all right?” he asked. “I heard you yelling.”

All the tension of the night caught up with me, and I suddenly felt exhausted. I pulled my robe tighter around me and sat down on the stoop. “Have you seen my husband?” I asked pitifully.

“Yeah, I met him about an hour ago when he was going in your apartment.” He sat down beside me. “Is everything okay?”

I couldn’t help it. I broke down and let the tears flow. “He left me,”
I blubbered. “Avery wants a divorce. I can’t believe my life has come to this.”

“Shhh. Don’t worry, Connie. These things have a way of working themselves out. I promise.” He put his arm around me and rocked me as I cried on his shoulder.

That little bit of kindness meant more to me than he could ever know.

“Damn, Daryl, why are you doing this to me?” I moaned, hitting my fist against the wall in frustration. Was it possible to want someone and hate him all at the same time? I’d been feeling this way ever since Daryl called to tell me he wasn’t coming to see me this morning, basically ruining my day. Call me spoiled, but after a week of steady visits, I’d become accustomed to him slipping into my bed to soothe the fire burning inside of me each morning. Today that fire was burning hotter than ever, which is why I was really pissed that he’d blown me off because his neighbor had a slight emergency.

Well, hello! Earth to Daryl: me being horny is an emergency too. A big-time emergency! You don’t just fuck a girl silly every morning for a week, then cut her off cold turkey, especially not when she’s admittedly addicted to the dick. My ass was so horny I was about to climb the walls. Yep, I needed a fix.

I’d tried to convince Daryl to leave his friend and come take care of me, but that wasn’t his style to abandon someone in need. On the outside, he had that sexy thug swagger, but on the inside, he had the heart of a Boy Scout. It was one of the things about him that I had fallen in love with when we first met.

My sexual frustration was what had brought me to the shower to cool off in the first place, but even with the lukewarm water flowing down my body, I still couldn’t put out the yearning between my legs. As I directed the spray from the showerhead between my breasts, lustful memories filled my head: Daryl on his knees in that very same shower, his head between my legs, doing what he did oh, so
well. I’d always been a sucker for some good head, but nothing could compare to the way he worked his tongue.

Cut it out, Krystal
, I scolded myself. Fantasizing about oral sex wasn’t exactly a good way to get Daryl off my mind, and I definitely needed to get him off my mind—not just because he wasn’t there to satisfy me, but because it was time to break things off with him. I was starting to get too attached. I only had a week left on my rental, and then it would be time to go home to reality, to my life without Daryl—the life I was afraid I was starting to forget.

Unable to take my mind off lustful thoughts, I positioned the showerhead lower and leaned against the wall. The water spraying against my coochie felt so damn good that there would be no stopping me now until I had an orgasm. I closed my eyes and imagined the stream of water to be Daryl’s silky tongue lapping against me. I slid my hand down to massage my clit, imagining it was his touch.

“Mmm,” I moaned as I pleasured myself with soft, gentle strokes. Within moments, I was almost there… until I was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I was sure it was Daryl keeping his date with me after all. Sure, he was a little later than we’d originally planned, but he was still right on time as far as I was concerned. As long as he got into the shower and helped me finish this orgasm, everything was good.

I heard his footsteps nearing the bathroom. I got wet, or should I say wetter, when I heard him enter the bathroom. He didn’t say anything, which was actually kind of sexy, like he wanted to do a little role-playing. Fine, I’d play along and be the unsuspecting woman who gets surprised by a stranger in the shower. Hell, I’d even make it a little more interesting. I’d pretend that the stranger caught me in the act of playing with myself.

I heard the sound of his zipper and then his pants falling to the floor. I leaned against the wall and resumed the stroking of my clit. The thing is, I was so turned on at this point that I actually came after just a few strokes. With one long, low moan, I exploded, my clit throbbing and my legs nearly giving out.

“Damn, baby, what kind of shower you got going on in here?”

I got the shock of my life when the shower curtain opened and I saw not Daryl, but Slim. He was standing in front of me butt naked with his member at full attention.

Okay, call me a hypocrite if you want. I’d jumped in Monica’s shit for cheating on her fiancé, and now here I was doing the same thing to Slim, my affectionate, kind, and caring boyfriend who would do anything in the world for me. That’s why I’d been trying to force myself to forget about Daryl. Okay, maybe I wasn’t trying so hard, but what’s a girl to do when she’s getting some of the best dick she’s ever had?

“Oh my God, Slim. What are you doing here? Aren’t you still supposed to be working in Virginia?” I asked, suddenly feeling very embarrassed and a little guilty about the orgasm I’d had while thinking about another man—one who could show up on my doorstep at any minute.

Slim laughed. “A better question is what are you doing in here?” He stepped in the shower and planted a deep kiss on my lips. “Never mind. I know exactly what’s going on. I guess somebody missed me. Two weeks is a long time to go without.” His hands roamed up and down my naked body. “I couldn’t take it either, so I had to come home and get some. I missed you, baby, and the way you make me feel.”

He moved his hand to where mine had been minutes earlier. After only a few strokes, he lifted me up by my ass and pressed me against the wall, sliding his manhood into me as deep as it would go. At first, I wasn’t into it. My mind and my body had been set on Daryl’s long, thick dick; but I was so sexually charged from masturbating that I got into what Slim was doing pretty quickly.

“Oh, Slim,” I moaned. “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me until I come all over you.”

“That’s right. Didn’t I tell you Daddy would take care of you? You know he always has what you need.”

He went in and out of me like a piston, and within a few more strokes, I felt myself nearing another orgasm. Unfortunately, after only two more pumps, I felt him begin to jerk inside of me.

No, not yet,
I thought as I began throwing my hips back at him, trying to quicken my climax.
I’m almost there. Not yet…

“Come on, baby, keep it up,” I encouraged. “Momma’s almost there.”

“Damn, baby. Shit, yeah. Ohhh. Krystal, baby. Ahhh. I love you, boo.”

I opened my eyes and stared at his face. His expression of ecstasy was exactly what I needed to send me over the edge. We came together and shared the moment with our lips locked.

Slim pulled me away from the wall and slid me back down until I was on my feet. He kissed me one last time and said, “Do you have any idea how good you make me feel?”

As bad as it sounds, I couldn’t bring myself to say, “You make me feel good too,” because I was busy thinking about the fact that if Daryl had been in the shower, I probably would have had three or four more orgasms by now. Instead I said, “I think so.”

“I love you, Kris,” he said, opening the shower curtain and reaching for a towel.

“I love you too.” That one I could manage to say, and I meant it too. Slim wasn’t Daryl in the bedroom; he couldn’t make me come rapid fire without breaking a sweat, but then again nobody but Daryl had ever done that. What Slim could do—and had done—for the past five years was take very good care of me. We met not long after Daryl walked out, and ever since, Slim had given me everything I needed, both materially and emotionally. That’s probably why I was feeling so bad all of a sudden as I realized how far I’d let myself stray. I’d only planned on seeing Daryl for a one-night fling, and now I was craving him the way an addict craves her next high.

Slim picked up his clothes and went into the bedroom while I rinsed myself off and then followed him inside. “I thought you weren’t coming back until next week,” I said as I entered the bedroom.

“I finished up my business a little early,” he replied, taking me into his arms. “Besides, I missed you, baby.”

“Did you bring me something back?” I asked eagerly. Whenever he went away, I could always expect him to bring me a package.

“Of course I did,” he said with a sexy grin. He picked up his pants, which he’d thrown across the dresser, and pulled out a familiar small, light-blue box. “You know I always got what you need.”

I happily took the box from him. This was definitely not the first time he’d brought me a blue box, and I always loved what was inside, but this time the surprise was even better. “Slim? Is this what I think it is?” I squealed when I opened the box.

“That’s right, baby. That’s exactly what it is.” He wrapped his arms around me. “You like it?”

I lifted the ring out of the box and slid it on my finger. “Oh, Slim, it’s beautiful,” I cried. “Does this mean…?”

Slim nodded and held my hand in his. “We’ve been together for quite a few years, and I know you’ve wanted to get married, so I figured it’s about time I made you a legitimate woman. It’s a carat and a half.”

“Slim… I…” I was at a loss for words, that’s what I was. I was not expecting this at all. I’d been trying to get Slim to commit for the past two years, and I was starting to think this would never happen. Well, now it had happened, and his timing couldn’t have been worse. I mean, I’d been so damn strung out on Daryl this past week that I’d practically forgotten I was supposed to be in love with Slim.

Thankfully, Slim didn’t seem bothered by the fact that I could barely speak. I guess he figured I was too mesmerized by the bling. So he filled the silence for me. “I went over to the furniture store and spoke to your pops,” he said. “I asked him for your hand in marriage and all that jazz, like you said you wanted.”