Zane's Addicted with a Twist, Page 2

  Quinton was still locked up in a sanitarium and I hoped he would remain there for the remainder of his natural life. For the past few years, I had struggled with the fact that had it not been for me stepping out on my marriage by falling for his looks and charm, Tyson, Diamond, and Allison would still be alive. Marcella had continued to help me work through everything, but it was a daily battle.

  Marcella drew me back from my thoughts. “I need to get away and relax. Maybe I’ll shoot for next year.”

  “If you really want to meet someone, I can try to hook you up,” I suggested. “Jason has a lot of friends.”

  “Not a good idea.”

  I frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because if something goes wrong, it might cause a rift in our relationship as therapist and client.”

  “And friends,” I added.

  “Yes, as friends.”

  I was searching for something more to add, which was strange for me, especially when it came to Marcella. Normally, I was a chatterbox. I felt like I should admit what I had been doing with Orpheus, but I did not want to open the door to a bunch of backlash. So I kept my lips closed.

  “Zoe, as your friend first and your therapist second, at this point, I want you to realize that you can truly discuss any and everything with me, and it doesn’t need to be only during our weekly sessions.”

  “I realize that. That’s why I called you.”

  I glanced at the wall clock. It was time to get going if I was going to make it to the hotel on time.

  “I’ll see you on Tuesday. Same bat time; same bat channel.”

  “Okay, but if you need to speak before then, don’t hesitate to pick up the phone.”

  “I won’t. Have a good evening.”

  “You as well,” Marcella said, and then hung up.

  I grabbed my keys and purse off my desk, lifted my briefcase off the floor, and headed to the elevator. Truth be told, I could barely wait to get my pretty little ass to that hotel.

  FORNICATION—people having sex when they aren’t married.

  I valeted my car at the Mandarin and hurried inside, glancing around to make sure that I did not recognize anyone. Being a successful art dealer in Atlanta meant attending a lot of events, holding a lot of gallery showings, and networking with the masses. It took a good deal of charm to convince artists that you could get others to purchase their work before they were dead and buried—not to mention convincing them to give up the 20 percent commission on every sale. It took even more charm to convince people that were not obsessed with collecting art—true collectors were easy customers—to shell out a wad of cash for something to sit on a table or hang on a wall as a conversation piece, or to impress their friends and relatives. I dealt with a lot of folks, and there was not a single one to whom I cared to have to explain why I was there, about to walk into a suite. The “recitals” between Orpheus and me were my dirty little secret. Once another person found out, the thrill would be gone forever.

  As I was strutting through the lavish lobby, I happened to glance into Taipan, the hotel’s lounge overlooking the English garden. Orpheus was sitting in a leather chair, staring right at me with his deep-set, engaging brown eyes. I walked slowly toward him and took the chair next to his.

  You wanna play? Let’s play, I said to myself as my derriere settled into the buttery cushion.

  I glanced at him hard and he glanced at me hard. He was drinking his favorite, a Whisky Bramble. But since I had never seen him before in my life, there was no way that I could have known that. You see, Orpheus and I often liked to role-play to spice things up.

  “Do I know you?” he asked in his deep, panty-wetting voice. I stared and did not respond. “I’m only asking because you look so familiar.”

  I smirked. “I’m not from around here, sugar,” I responded with a country twang. “I’m here on business for a few days, but men try to act like they’ve seen me before all the time.”

  He chuckled. “Bad pickup line, huh?”

  “Not horrible, but definitely overused.”

  He leaned closer into me. “How about this one? Is your name Google, because you’re the answer to everything I’m searching for?”

  I cringed and shook my head. “Now that one was bad, but not as horrific as ‘If it’s true that we are what we eat, then I can be you by morning.’ ”

  Orpheus grinned. “Wow, someone’s actually said that to you before?”

  I shrugged. “Back in the day. That one is an oldie. The old pimps and potential pedophiles in my neighborhood used to use that on us youngens.”

  “Sad. Truly sad.” The waitress was headed our way. “Can I buy you a drink, um . . .?”

  “You can call me Eurydice. And sure, I’d love a drink.”

  “Can I get you anything?” the waitress with flawless skin and hair asked.

  “I’ll take a Demise of Violet,” I replied.

  She redirected her attention to Orpheus. “You need anything else, sir?”

  “No, I’m good at the moment. I’m trying to get to know this beautiful woman a little better. Wish me luck.”

  The waitress, whose name tag read Cathy, seemed quite disappointed by that remark. Apparently I had stepped on her toes and she had been planning to hook up with Orpheus’s fine ass. Not a chance on that!

  “I’ll be right back with your drink,” she said dismissively before walking away.

  “Would you like to see the bar menu?” he asked.

  “No, I’m good.” I sighed. “Actually, I can’t stay long. I’m here to meet someone.”

  “Damn, just my bad luck. He’s a lucky man.”

  “Who said that I’m here to meet a man?” I eyed him seductively, implying that I might be there for some hot lesbian sex.

  “Oh, it’s that kind of party. Mea culpa.”

  “If you’re nice to me, we may let you join in.” I glanced at his left hand and the platinum wedding band on it. “But your married. You need to keep calm and remain faithful.”

  He looked at my left hand. “Seems like you need to do the same thing.”

  I smiled. “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “A little harmless fun never hurt anyone, Eurydice.”

  “You never told me your name, Slim.”

  “Slim? Nothing on me is slim.” He lowered his eyes to his crotch. “Especially not him.”

  “Oh, how special. Your dick has a separate personality?”

  We were both laughing as Cathy returned with my drink. I was hoping she did not spit in it or anything. Women could be extremely catty in the A-T-L due to the man shortage. Some believed that you had a better chance at hitting the lottery than landing a single, straight man in Atlanta who was not trying to play reindeer games.

  She had the audacity to roll her eyes at me as she set the drink down. “Will there be anything else?”

  I decided to rub the shit in. “Naw, sister, we’re about to head upstairs and fuck each other’s brains out. You can bring the check, and I’ll take my drink with me so he can suck it off my tits.”

  Cathy looked like she wanted to slap me, spit on me, or whatnot, but opted to merely walk away instead.

  “Oh, you’re feisty.” Orpheus guzzled down the last of his whiskey. “I like that. But what about the friend you’re here to meet?”

  “Don’t you want to be my friend?” I asked seductively. “I could use a new one.”

  He reached out his hand and I shook it. “I’m Orpheus.”

  “What a strange coincidence!”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “I may not need to fuck with you,” I stated jokingly. “Greek mythology might replay itself.”

  “Naw, not a chance. You can’t fall into a nest of vipers on our wedding day so I can soften the heart of Hades with my music and beg to bring you back to life.” He paused and then
added, “But I may be able to breathe some new life into you.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  Cathy had disappeared altogether, so Orpheus threw two twenties on the table, stood, and helped me up by the hand. He picked up my drink. “Follow me.”

  • • •

  As soon as we entered the elevator, it was on and popping. We were all over each other: swapping spit with our tongues, licking and sucking on each other’s necks, bumping and grinding to the point where we hit the emergency alarm by mistake and it blared for a few seconds. Surely there was camera surveillance in such an upscale hotel, but we didn’t give a damn. Let them look! Take all our shit in!

  “Why’d you wait for me downstairs?” I whispered into his ear, spilling my drink on the carpet and letting the glass slip from my fingertips. I latched my hand onto his dick through his pants. “So much for licking that drink off me.”

  “I have some champagne chilling up in the suite, and I waited downstairs because I wanted to watch you walk in.” He reached between my legs underneath my dress and slipped his long fingers into my juicy pussy. “Good girl. I love it when you follow directions and lose the panties.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” I replied, then shoved my tongue back into his mouth.

  When the elevator doors opened on our floor, we toppled out of the cab attached to each other and slobbered and fondled our way down to the entry door to the suite. Orpheus slid his card key in and once he had it ajar, he lifted me up by the ass cheeks as I locked my ankles behind his back. He carried me inside and slammed the door, then damn near ran into the bedroom with me.

  There was soft music playing throughout the speaker system in the suite. The lights were dimmed and there were scented candles burning in glass votive holders on both nightstands.

  “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” I said, even though nothing and no one was going to stop me from doing it and we both understood that. “We need to be at home, parenting kids and sitting down to a family dinner.”

  Orpheus started removing his suit jacket as I pulled my dress up over my head. He yanked his tie off and I couldn’t contain myself. I ripped all of the buttons off his expensive shirt, spread it open so I could see his muscular chest, and started licking and sucking on his nipples.

  “Damn, we can do all the family shit tomorrow,” he said. “Tonight, let’s be bad, cleanse ourselves, and ignore the rest of the world altogether.”

  “Oh, is that what you’re going to do? Give me a cleansing?” I joked. “Is that the same as a tongue bath?”

  “I’m going to lick you from head to toe.”

  I pushed him away from me. “In that case, let me go take a shower. I want to make sure this pussy is fresh and clean for you.” I stood up and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go wash away the day and then I’m going to put it on you.”

  I turned the shower on, set it to the temperature that was hot enough to open my pores, and climbed in. Before I had lathered my chest up good, Orpheus joined me, his dick not completely erect but still ridiculously huge.

  “Let me do that for you.” He took the washcloth and soap and started rubbing my body very gently, yet seductively. “I’m been thinking about you all day, Eury.”

  I giggled. “So now my fake name has a nickname? I like that, Or!”

  “I adore everything about you.”

  “I played in my pussy in my office before coming over here.”

  He placed his hand over his heart, feigning an attack. “Now why would you do something like that? Did you come?”

  “Like a clap of thunder.” I laughed. “I wanted to be able to hang with you when you bring on that serious dick in a few minutes. You know how you drive me insane. I don’t want to start convulsing two minutes in.”

  Now, that made his dick hard!

  “No, we can’t have any shit like that going down up in here. I like to take my time with you. Give you that daddy long stroke.”

  “Oh yes, Daddy! I want you to give it to me all night long.”

  He smirked and eyed me with suspicion. “You can’t stay out all night. Your husband might get suspicious.”

  “Damn, you’re right. Well, can you give me an entire night’s worth of dick in say, two to three hours?”

  “Hmm, I may be able to do it in four.”

  “That means I’ll get home after midnight,” I complained. “You’re going to get my ass in serious trouble.”

  “Hey, now. I’m taking the same risks. My wife doesn’t fucking play.”

  “So why take the risk?” I asked.

  Orpheus stopped washing me for a few seconds, stood back, and looked me up and down. “Do you really need to ask that question?”

  I grinned. “I don’t recall us ever fucking in the shower, Or. Want to have at it?”

  “Turn around, Eury.” I turned so my back was to him as the water cascaded down the crack of my ass. He grabbed it. “Is all this for my enjoyment?”

  “As long as you can handle it all, make it happen,” I chided.

  I sensed him reaching out of the shower for something, and then suddenly he was covering my eyes with a towel.

  “What are you doing?” I played dumb. “I want to see you tap this ass.”

  “As long as you feel it, that’s all that matters.” Orpheus pushed my shoulders, bending me over so that I could rest my hands on my knees. Then he took me from behind.

  I gasped as he entered me. It felt so damn good.

  He started off fast and then slowed it down, catching a rhythm and strumming my clit like a violin.

  “Shit!” I exclaimed as something stirred up in me and exploded. He hit my G-spot and I screamed even louder. So much for being able to last. “That’s the spot, dammit! Take all this pussy!”

  “Oh, I’m going to take it, all right.” Orpheus pulled on my right hand and placed it behind my back, followed by my left, and held them tightly like they were in handcuffs. “You’re going to take this pussy beat-down like a real woman.”

  “I’m a G.”

  I heard him laughing. “You talk a lot of shit.”

  He kept pounding me and pounding me. I still couldn’t see, and I only hoped that I didn’t lose my balance and slam my head against the side of the shower stall or something. How would I explain that? I cannot tell a lie; the rough sex was turning my ass out.

  Orpheus kept fucking me until we both almost slipped. He managed to save us both and hurriedly pulled out, carried me to the bed, slammed me down on my stomach, rammed his dick back in, and went back to work. I could still hear the shower running in the bathroom.

  I came all over his dick and then pulled away from him. I flipped over and reached for his dick and started milking it with my mouth. The mixture of my pussy juice and his natural taste did it for me. I came again within a couple of minutes. A lot of women sucked dick to please their men, but I sucked dick to please me. It gave me a feeling of euphoria and a sense of power. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but I felt it . . . and tasted it.

  Orpheus tensed up, dick and all, and announced that he was coming. I guzzled all that I could get down my throat as I held onto his dick with a vise grip with one hand and played in my pussy with the other, two fingers deep. He pulled the towel off my eyes in time for our eyes to meet as I licked the head to get every last drop of his essence.

  Both of us collapsed on the bed and tried to regain our normal breathing patterns. Orpheus got up and went into the bathroom to turn off the shower. He returned with a soapy towel to wipe my pussy down. We cuddled for a few minutes and then passed out, in a spooning position.

  • • •

  A loud motorcycle or hot rod speeding down Peachtree Road woke me about three thirty a.m. When I came to my full awareness and glanced at the clock on the nightstand, I jumped out the bed and started throwing on my cl
othes.

  I nudged Orpheus. “We’ve got to go,” I said. “It’s almost four o’clock in the damn morning.”

  He gradually wakened and then chuckled. “It’s not that serious. Come back to bed.”

  I pushed him on the thigh to try to get him to come to his senses. “Get dressed so we can get out of here.”

  “Checkout is at noon.” He sighed and turned over, burying his head in the pillow. “Wake me up at eleven.”

  “Get up now!”

  He finally started moving as I slipped into my heels and wrapped my hair up into a bun.

  I grabbed for my keys and he took me by the wrist. “Aren’t you going to give me a good-night kiss?”

  I yanked my arm away. “We don’t have time for jokes. We need to get out of here.”

  I left as Orpheus was getting his clothes on. By the time they got my car out of valet—no one was around that time of night since most people do not check in or out at that hour, so it took a few minutes—I spotted Orpheus peeling out of the self-parking garage in his black Ferrari. Both of us would have some explaining to do.

  STIGMA—mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance.

  Peter and the twins were sitting on stools at the breakfast bar when I came downstairs around nine. Momma was making buttermilk pancakes with spiced apples mixed in and peppered bacon for breakfast. My entire body was sore as I entered the kitchen wearing a housecoat and slippers.

  “Good morning, gang.” I kissed each one on top of the head before heading toward Momma.

  The children all looked up from their various phones and tablets, and said in unison, “Good morning, Black Nubian Goddess Queen.”

  Everyone laughed but my mother. “I keep telling you, that’s not cute. They call you that in public and someone might call Child Protective Services.”

  “Good morning, Momma,” I said and kissed her on the cheek. “And don’t be ridiculous. If anything, they might ask me to give parenting classes so other women can be treated like royalty by their kids.”

  Momma sighed and started plating the food. “Whatever, Zoe.”