Scandalicious: A Novel Page 11

  Switching it up, he inserted a spiraling finger inside as he sucked on her stiff clit. Her fleshy walls tightened around his finger, pulling it in deeper. Chevonne’s breathing quickened and her hips engaged in a rhythmic rotation. Any moment now, he would taste her tart passion.

  He didn’t stop licking until he felt her shuddering violently as a giant crest of pleasure wracked her body. When her convulsion subsided, he deftly lodged his surging erection inside the slick, satiny passage. His dick slid in and out, gently at first. Then with an enormous thrust, he rammed brutally. “Did he fuck you like this?” The sturdy bed shook from Lincoln’s vigorous thrusts.

  “Nobody can fuck me like this. Only you,” Chevonne said hoarsely.

  “You gon’ cheat on me again?” He pumped faster, harder.

  “No, never. I love you.”

  Needing something else to focus on besides her tight damp pussy, he lowered his face to her breasts. His lips brushed against her skin, and he licked her breasts, heating her up more. Chevonne made a tiny scream. She wrapped her legs around his back as he drove his dick in and out creating hot friction.

  “You gon’ suck another man’s dick?” Lincoln mumbled these words, as if too ashamed to speak audibly.

  “No! Never again. I swear to God.”

  He drove deeper, filling her completely. Each surging, rhythmic thrust was a declaration of love. Hips swiveling, Lincoln pumped an iron-like hard-on into a pool of liquid heat, stirring his wife into a writhing, moaning frenzy, urging her to join him in that inner world of timeless bliss. They came together, bodies quaking as they shared the sweet yet almost painful intensity of that intimate moment.

  Lincoln rolled onto his back, and lay immobile as he panted. After catching his breath, he lifted himself up and stared at Chevonne’s beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, and there was a slight smile on her lips. She was still in heaven, unable to speak. He kissed her softly.

  Her lips moved as she softly whispered, “That was so good, r—” She seemed to catch herself, and her eyes shot open in alarm.

  “Raheem!” Lincoln said the name with disdain. A severe grimace distorted his face. “Did you fuckin’ call me Raheem?”

  Chevonne bolted upright. “No! I didn’t call you anything. Why would I bring his name up at a time like this?”

  “You were mumbling, but I heard you clearly!”

  “I said, ‘That was so good; real good.’ Baby, we’ve come so far. Let’s not do this. Lincoln, please.” Her dark eyes were wild with fear.

  He was unwilling to let it go. But in actuality, she’d only made the sound of the letter “r.” Chevonne could be telling the truth, and for the sake of his sanity, he decided to let it go. “You’re right. I’m sorry, baby. I’m tripping,” he said calmly, but his mind was all over the place.

  Chevonne gave a sigh of relief.

  Lincoln lay back and rested his head on the pillow. Looking off into the darkness of the bedroom, Lincoln shook his head, trying to clear it. Maybe he was hearing things because he hadn’t totally forgiven her. Or maybe he was crazy. Whatever the case, something wasn’t right.

  CHAPTER 21

  Solay mixed up batter for the cupcake presentation that was scheduled for three o’ clock. Vidal was in the kitchen with Solay, doing busy work. The shiny, red Scandalicious boxes were delivered every month flattened in stacks. One of Vidal’s duties was to structure the flat cardboard pieces into square shapes that were ready for packing. The boxes took up several long shelves in the kitchen, and some were stored behind the counter. Those boxes were a huge expense. Solay could have gone for something plain and less costly, but she loved the glossy Scandalicious boxes.

  “Have you noticed anything odd about Melanee?” Solay asked Vidal in a quiet voice. Melanee had taken a break and would be back in fifteen minutes, but Solay looked around to make sure that she and Vidal were alone.

  “She’s always been a little weird in my opinion.” Engrossed in inserting a flap of cardboard into a slot, he didn’t look up. He always became quiet when involved in constructing boxes. That type of mindless, busywork was somewhat therapeutic for Vidal—like knitting or crocheting.

  “Yeah, but something is going on with her. She goes through her day like a robot. No interest in her specialty items anymore.”

  “Well, you were the one crying poor-mouth about the ingredients she was ordering. I would think you’d be glad she got over that phase. The customers liked the specialties. You’re slipping, Solay. That’s good money you’re missing out on. You should be all over that!”

  “I know. But it’s so much extra work. I really need more staff.”

  “You ain’t gotta tell me. You got me doing so many different things, I feel like a rubber band, stretched to the max and about to snap! And when that happens…” Vidal shook his head. “Can’t you afford to pay a part-time worker?”

  “Not really,” she said sadly.

  “Umph! I find that hard to believe. Don’t forget, I work at the register, and I’m aware of all the money that this place pulls in.”

  “Renting space in a tourist area is not cheap, Vidal. Yes, I do a killer business, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  “But what?” he peered at her curiously.

  “Nothing.” She refused to give Vidal a breakdown of her profit and loss statement. “Anyway, I’m concerned about Melanee. Something isn’t right. As far as you know, is she seeing anyone?”

  “Melanee doesn’t tell me anything.”

  “I thought you two were close. What happened?”

  “We’re okay. We’re work associates. We didn’t hang out at clubs or kick it on the phone or nothing like that. I don’t even know her number. The only thing I know about Melanee is that she’s on some sort of wild eating binge.”

  “Huh?” The conversation had just gone into left field.

  “Girl, I’m serious. If you wanna keep this business afloat, you’d better hide your cupcakes and hide the frosting because I have caught her scarfing down cupcakes like they’re peanuts—on numerous occasions. She’s a sneaky eater. I have seen her literally stuffing her face with Double Chocolate Decadence and Red Hot Passion.”

  “What about Vanilla Kiss?” Solay asked with a chuckle.

  “Nah, she don’t seem to mess with them. But she’s picking up weight. You can see it all in her cheeks and her arms and whatnot.”

  Solay shrugged; she hadn’t noticed any weight gain. “It’s okay if Melanee eats a few cupcakes. I’ve always said that you both were welcome to them—well, you know—within reason.”

  “Well, she’s not eating them within reason. She’s outta control.” Vidal returned his attention to building boxes.

  Solay didn’t mind if Melanee ate a few cupcakes on the job. However, she found it curious that Melanee had developed a sudden craving for them. I wonder if she’s pregnant.

  There was no private area for cupcake tasting, and so Solay personally escorted Anita Blalock to one of the wrought-iron tables. Samples of the regular menu items along with three new additions—cupcakes that boasted bold ingredients and in-your-face flavors—were brought to Ms. Blalock’s table on a silver tray.

  “I think you’ll find that each cupcake is a sensual experience,” Solay boasted as she set the tray down.

  Solay had expected Ms. Blalock to use the knife and fork that she’d provided to cut a piece of each cupcake, but she had her own way of sampling—a torturously slow way of cupcake tasting. She ate each individual cupcake, smiling and nodding her head as she chewed.

  Solay noticed Vidal behind the counter, holding out his hands, gesturing. He was getting itchy, wanting to find out the outcome. Solay shrugged. So far, it was obvious that Ms. Blalock was enjoying the flavors, but she couldn’t predict how this would turn out.

  “Mmm, now what is that one called?” Ms. Blalock asked, after biting into a dark chocolate cupcake.

  “That one’s called The Sweetest Taboo; it’s a mixture of Belgian chocolate and red wine,” Sol
ay said with pride.

  “I love the names you come up with, and the flavors are out of this world. But this one…” She nodded her approval as she finished chewing. “The Belgian chocolate and wine was to die for.” Ms. Blalock swayed a little, as if swooning over the taste. Solay felt encouraged. Her fingers were crossed; she didn’t want to blow this opportunity.

  “I love what I’ve tasted, but my only concern is that you won’t be able to handle such a large order with only yourself and the one baking assistant doing all the work.”

  “Don’t worry about that; we’ll get it done,” Solay assured her, wondering how in the hell she’d pull off such a monumental task without shutting down Scandalicious for a week.

  “Would you like some more water?” Vidal came to the table with a pitcher of water. Ms. Blalock’s glass was half-filled, and that was a good excuse for Vidal to mosey over to find out if Solay had sealed the deal.

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  “Milk or juice?” He wasn’t giving up easily.

  Solay gave him a dirty look, forcing him to skulk back to his station, leaving her in privacy to woo the potential big-money client.

  “How far in advance will you have to bake them? I want them to taste as fresh as these.” Ms. Blalock motioned to the empty cupcake liners and the crumbs that were left on the tray. “Will you have to freeze them? I don’t like that defrosted taste.” Her eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

  Boy, this lady is a tough sale. “I would never serve cupcakes that weren’t of the highest quality.”

  Anita Blalock stood. “Okay, young lady, I’m sold!”

  Yay, hallelujah, thank God! Solay was turning cartwheels in her mind. They agreed upon a price—an astronomical amount—and Ms. Blalock gave Solay a check for the deposit.

  Solay could be living on Easy Street if she could drum up this kind of business on a regular basis.

  After walking Ms. Blalock to the door, Solay turned around, and grinned from ear to ear. “We got it!” She raised her hand to give Vidal a high-five, but he sucked his teeth, obviously brooding.

  “Oh, now it’s we all of a sudden. It was all about you a few minutes ago.”

  “I don’t like your tone, Vidal.”

  “What’s wrong with my tone? You don’t like it when I speak my mind, cuz you know I’m right—expecting me to jump up and high-five after you gave me your butt to kiss.”

  “Vidal, you’re so theatrical—blowing everything out of proportion.”

  “I’m not your friend,” he said, sounding like a spoiled toddler. Sulking, he poked out his lips. He even folded his arms to punctuate his displeasure.

  Having had enough of Vidal’s brooding mood, Solay burst into the kitchen to share the news with Melanee.

  “May I please be excused, Master? Thank you, Master?” Melanee whispered into the phone and then stuck it inside of her apron pocket. Wearing a pained expression, Melanee looked at Solay. “So, how’d the tasting session go?”

  Startled into silence, Solay didn’t speak for a moment. After regaining her composure, she found her voice. “Uh, the tasting went great. I got the contract.” Solay tried to sound as normal as possible, but it was a struggle after those crazy words that had come out of Melanee’s mouth.

  Solay shook her head. She turned around and left the kitchen. She marched straight upstairs to the sanity of her own apartment. In the living room, she sank into a chair.

  What the hell kind of freaky shit is Melanee into? It struck Solay that Melanee might be having phone sex, right there in the kitchen of Scandalicious. Ew!

  CHAPTER 22

  Melanee refused to feel embarrassed. Solay had overheard her speaking to Colden. She’d used Colden’s appropriate title, and Solay looked appalled. Then her boss scampered out of the kitchen—getting as far away from Melanee as she could.

  Initially, Melanee was going to make up a lie—tell Solay that she was only kidding around with one of her friends. But she changed her mind and kept her mouth shut. She didn’t owe Solay an explanation. Melanee laughed to herself, imagining Solay’s horror if she knew the actual truth about her lifestyle.

  Solay thought love was about dinner dates and receiving flowers, but she didn’t know shit. Love was total submission. Love was whips and chains. And intricately knotted ropes.

  Ah! A swirling hot current moved between her legs. Weak in the knees, she reminisced about last night. Colden had spanked her with a miniature paddle. Pussy paddling was something he’d never done before. Melanee glistened with sweat, remembering the pressure and the sting of that small wooden paddle against her clit and outer lips. With each whack, pussy juice streamed out of her vagina. When she shouted that she was coming, Colden had lovingly inserted the rubber-covered handle of the paddle deep inside her clenching depths.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Vidal demanded, catching Melanee with her eyes closed, and her head thrown back as she relived the moment.

  She gasped. Her eyes popped open. “You scared me, Vidal.” Melanee smoothed down her apron.

  “You scared me, bitch!” Vidal scrutinized Melanee, looked her up and down sneeringly. “What were you doing? From your expression, it seemed like you were having an orgasm, but I don’t know how that’s possible since you didn’t have your hand stuck between your legs.”

  “Vidal, please. Your imagination is running wild. I was lost in thought when you came in here.” Shaking her head, she brushed past him. She gathered up cupcake tins, mixing bowls, measuring cups, whisks, spoons, and other utensils, and began stacking them into the dishwasher.

  “Well, I’m no psychic, but I’m willing to bet good money that whatever you were thinking about had sexual connotations.” He turned up his nose. “And nothing normal. You were thinking about some raunchy filth!”

  Melanee’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She didn’t have time to go back and forth with Vidal. “If Solay comes down, tell her I’m right outside—taking a break.” She raced out of the kitchen.

  “This place is a nut house,” Vidal said, following Melanee out of the kitchen. The customers seated in the dining area turned their attention to Vidal.

  “Working here is like pulling down a shift in a mental hospital. If I stick around here, I’ma end up on medication. Y’all think I’m playing, but I’m serious as a heart attack.” Though the patrons didn’t know what he was talking about, they indulged him with tinkles of polite laughter.

  Frowning in condemnation, Vidal observed Melanee standing outside of the bakery, her cell phone pressed against her ear.

  He would have really had something to talk about if he’d been able to hear her delighted greeting when she answered her phone, saying, “Yes, Master?”

  “Madam Midnight is going to give you another chance. She wants to see you tonight at nine. Don’t fuck this up,” Colden said sharply.

  “I won’t; I’ll call SEPTA and get the schedule for the three buses I have to ride. I’ll be punctual; I promise.”

  “You don’t have to ride any buses this time. Madam Midnight is sending a limo to pick you up.”

  “A limo? Really?” Melanee smiled broadly. Madam had been upset by her tardiness, but the woman must have been impressed in some way. Otherwise, why would she offer Melanee such transportation? Melanee put great effort into the blowjob she’d given the butler. And the way he’d flooded her mouth like a tsunami proved that he liked it. No one could deny that her fellatio skills were on point.

  Madam Midnight made her nervous and jumpy, Colden held the woman in high regard. It was her duty to represent Colden’s training to the best of her ability.

  With her brows drawn together in concentration, Melanee listened to Colden’s instructions. From what she gathered, tonight would be a totally different scene than she was accustomed to. Although Colden wouldn’t be there, Madam Midnight would be his eyes and ears, giving him a full report of Melanee’s performance.

  Melanee planned to coat her lips with a thick covering of lip gloss
—for better dick glide-ability. This time, there’d be no question about her superb head-training.

  Following Colden’s precise instructions, Melanee dressed up for a night at the theater. The gleaming superstretch limo seemed out of place in front of her humble apartment building. She felt like Cinderella when the driver opened the door for her.

  The luxurious inside of the limo seemed larger than her studio apartment. She looked around in amazement. The amenities were crazy: butter-soft leather couches, a flat-screen TV, a fully stocked, mirrored bar, a mirrored ceiling, and a mirrored partition.

  This was heaven. The only thing missing was Colden. Melanee sighed, wishing they could share this moment together. Their day would come. Everything in due time, Melanee reminded herself.

  Colden had informed her that Madam Midnight was a very wealthy woman and an important business associate. Melanee was the key to improving his relationship with Madam. All she had to do was make sure that Madam was thoroughly entertained tonight.

  The limo glided out of her neighborhood. From the backseat, she could see the admiring glances of pedestrians and other motorists. She wished that stuck-up Solay could see her in this glorious moment. She wondered if Solay and her boyfriend ever went to the theater. Melanee doubted it. From the conversations she’d overheard, their dates consisted of movies and dinners that featured Buffalo wings and burgers. Solay thought she was the shit. Owning Scandalicious had gone to her head.

  Downtown Philadelphia was alight with activity. The limo parked in front of Walnut Street Theater—America’s oldest theater. The area pulsed with excitement. Melanee hadn’t thought about the name of the play she would be attending, and was a little disappointed when she read the marquee: Little Miss Saigon. She would have preferred something that featured black people singing—Dreamgirls, The Color Purple, Whoopi Goldberg’s play, Sister Act.