Risqué Read online

  -22-

  I was on the last day of my stay at the Bellagio, and still enjoying every single minute of it. From the spa treatments, to the food, to watching the Falls of Bellagio from my window at night. It was the lap of luxury. I could get used to this. I could also get used to the idea of taking a new lover. Now that . . . that was the real highlight of all this. And it was the kind of lovin’ that you thought about days after, and at the most unexpected times; like, eating or watching television, or looking out the window at the views. My new lover left impressions . . . literally.

  How had I gone without sex for so long? And how lucky was I that once I got back in the game, that it was worthy of the time given? Sex is needed. It’s a language. And when that language is understood by both parties—whether it’s spoken fast, whether it’s spoken slow—how sensual it can be. So yeah, it’s needed. It brings a message with it from the universe that says we’re still alive. That the soul is vibrating at a high frequency.

  Thinking back on my sex life with my ex-husband, and doing a mental comparison between him and Zane, made me shake my head, and almost laugh out loud. Perhaps because Galen was my first, I was blindly wrapped up in him. And maybe for that reason, I thought what he delivered, was as good as the package could get. So much so that when I had a brush with sex after him, I couldn’t get into it at all. There was a disconnect. It did nothing for me. At the time I thought it was me, and that I would be forever uptight and slow to give my body to another. But after Zane, I realized that that man just came packaged with mediocre skills. It was flat. There was no foreplay. Not too far off from what was happening near the end of my and Galen’s marriage. But Zane . . . he was different. A stark contrast. Rough when he needed to be, and careful when he needed to be. He was a pleaser, a giver.

  The way his hands roamed my body, was like every peak and every valley was a piece of treasure that he had been sent to inspect, to praise, to value. He gave me an experience. Make that multiple experiences. The night after our first official date, we went back to the suite and once again found ourselves in the throes of passion. It was everything. When he told me to, “Lay back and just relax. I don’t want you to do anything . . .” I didn’t understand where that could possibly go. A woman is supposed to participate just as much as the man. But then when I surrendered, I got the picture crystal clear.

  He didn’t penetrate me. I waited for it, but it didn’t happen. Not immediately. He stared down at me for what seemed like minutes on end, before starting with a massage of my feet. He ran soft trails with his fingers down the base of my arch’s tickle spots. Not so much that it tickled, but just enough that he would know the pressure points. Then he massaged from my ankles to my calves, and then my thighs. I was sure that’s when business was about to be conducted, but instead, he played the circumference of the area, not inside. Prodded and massaged right outside the place that wept—drip by drip—for his attention.

  As the base of his thumbs trailed across my nipples, I allowed my lids to close so that I could marry the moment. Not seeing, and giving power to all other senses, was better. It was during the moment that I did close my eyes, that what Zane was doing, made all the sense in the world. I realized that he was learning me. Taking notes on what felt good and what didn’t. My sounds—did they come out like purrs? Did they have bass? Were they there at all? Whether my back arched, how high the heaves in my chest were. They were all things he was putting in the vault of his mind. And he proved that, when after it all, he inserted himself into me fully. Giving me everything I had silently begged for. He had become the teacher, and I had become the pupil.

  I was looking forward, to many more lessons.

  “What song is this playing on the radio?” I asked the Uber driver on the way to my house. “It’s so pretty and soothing.”

  The cute, blue-haired black girl looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Oh, you like it?” she asked.

  “I do.” Takes me back to some good places, I thought to myself.

  “That’s so cool. A lot of people think it’s boring.”

  “How could they? It’s so smooth.” And sexy, almost like an aphrodisiac…

  “Well, I’m not sure who this artist is, but the genre is called JazzHop. I have a station on Sirius XM that I listen to that only plays these tunes.”

  “And trust me when I tell you that when I get home, I’ll be looking for a few stations of my own. JazzHop, you said?”

  “Yes, JazzHop. You’ll love it. Heavy on the instrumentals, but when they do have vocals, it’s always something nice, but not so much that it overpowers.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. I guess that means you don’t mind if I turn it up just a little bit?” she asked.

  “Please do,” I told her.

  Ten minutes or so later, we turned up my street. Surprisingly, there were people outside. A rarity during the summer because most people stayed inside, blinds closed and all. Running from the disrespectful intrusion of triple-digit heat. Seeing the activity was a welcomed sight.

  “Thank you,” I said to my driver upon exiting the backseat of her Charger. “And thank you for turning me on to a new genre of music.”

  “No problem at all. Have a good rest of your day.”

  “You do the same.”

  Standing at my curb and looking up at my beautiful home, I was grateful. Sad, that I had to leave the luxury behind, but feeling refreshed, nonetheless. After waving to my neighbor and their friend, I dug my house key out of my purse and proceeded to my door.

  As I was trekking up my walkway, I heard, “How was your vacation, Mrs. Childs?”

  It was the low-toned voice of my flirtatious, and very nosy neighbor, Trevor. I never knew where this damn man-child came from, but he always managed to sneak up. Despite that, he was friendly enough, so it wasn’t such a big deal. As usual, he had on jeans, a designer t-shirt, and the latest Jordan’s, his blond hair freshly cut. He was all about his appearance. He didn’t know that I knew, but he had made his rounds on our block with some of the married, and single women—Kameelah included. I often wondered if he was getting paid for his services, because how else did he have a two-story home in one of Vegas’s desired Summerlin neighborhoods? I never saw him leave for a job of any sort. Not a suit, not a drive-off in the mornings, and no drive-up around the five or six PM hour. But hey, that wasn’t my business—and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me as one of his many conquests.

  Now that I thought about it, he was more than likely the “drive-by” that Kameelah ditched me for the other night. I would never ask her, because I wasn’t supposed to know about it. What’s crazy, is that I think Trevor thought, that after Galen moved out, that I might be on his ‘victim’ list next, but uhhh . . . never.

  “Hey, Trevor. How are you?”

  “I’m good. You need any help with your bags?”

  “No, I got it. But thank you.”

  “You must not have gone too far, that’s a pretty small bag for somebody gone for a whole week.”

  I quieted, preparing to choose my words carefully, and not completely snap on him about knowing my business. “Well, it certainly can’t be said that we don’t have neighborhood watch,” I said to him, with slight sarcasm.

  “Yeah, it’s kinda necessary when we have such beautiful women living among us.”

  I laughed so hard—inside my head. I knew it was time for me to cut this thing short before the laughter made it out into the air, and I ended up having to hurt his feelings.

  “That’s so sweet, Trevor. You have yourself a nice day.” With that, I turned on my heels and didn’t look back.

  -23-

  One week later…

  “Hey Giselle!” I heard someone sing. “How was your summer?”

  I spun around from the teacher mailboxes, slightly startled, coming face to face with one of my colleagues. She was a pretty Blatina woman that had been teaching 5th grade in the classroom a few doors down from mine, for the
last three years. “Hey Kimberly,” I said, leaning in to reciprocate the hug she had given. “Did you say, how was my summer? Girl, if you don’t quit trying to rush the end of my break,” I laughed, as we pulled apart.

  “You know what I mean, girl. Trust me, I’m not trying to rush anything. We still have another month, and some change.”

  “See, that’s the language I’m trying to hear right there. I still have a few late nights and sleep-in mornings.”

  “True, true,” Kimberly said, touching my shoulder. “Well, hey, if you don’t have the rest of your card filled, maybe we can hook up for drinks or something. I’ve been hanging out with this new guy I met, so the summer’s been good to me. But a girl needs a break.”

  If she and I were closer, my comment would’ve been something like, ‘My summer’s been good to me too. And I’m not quite ready for a break. I’m still making up for lost time…’ But we weren’t, so I didn’t. Instead, I told her, “Agreed. Let’s do it. Let me get you my number after this meeting, and then we can go from there.”

  “Perfect. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Same here.”

  “Have you looked at your class list yet?” she asked, with not so much enthusiasm in her voice.

  “No, I was going to do that after this mandatory meeting. I need to know what all this is about first. Then I’ll come check for the list of newcomers. I got used to my little ones, and now got a whole new batch of energy coming in.”

  “Girl! Don’t I know it! But at least your little ones, while active, and sometimes a little too mouthy, aren’t the preteens that feel like they already know the world. Gotta take cellphones left and right, and argue with them because of it. I don’t even have my own damn kids and gotta be going through this mess. That’s my birth control right there. They’re cute as they want to be when they’re little, but when they grow . . . and then grow into that mouth . . . honey chile. No, and thank you.”

  I started cracking up at her. I didn’t know she was this funny before today because I never really made it a habit of forming friendships with the women that I work with. Or hell, women period. Had been burned too many times to count. With Kimberly, though, maybe having to come to this meeting was a good thing, because I got to see in a short amount of time, that she wasn’t so bad to get to know.

  Even though I had seen her in a few conversations with that cow, Naomi, I decided that I would get to know her for myself.

  “You are something else. Got me laughing all loud in here. Let’s get on over to this conference room and hear what’s in store…”

  Walking into the large, brightly lit space, I was pleasantly surprised when all the aroma of catered food hit the air. The colorful spread went from one end of the wall to the other. Food, drinks, pastries and a whole lot of other delectables. They never mentioned food in the group email. I guess they knew we would already be shocked at having to come back to campus so soon after we left. I would’ve gotten there a whole lot sooner had I known there’d be grub. I was going to indulge for sure because the smells were calling to me. But I’d be on the treadmill later, or jumping some rope. Or, wait a minute! It dawned on me that I now had someone I could call to do horizontal workouts with. Yeah, I liked that option a whole lot better.

  “I know you saw those adult beverages over there,” Kimberly leaned in and whispered. “You getting any?”

  “Nah girl, I’m good. I’m skeptical about why they’re tryin’ to booze us up. Besides, I got my own stash at home; and depending on how long this meeting goes, I might need it to run up out of here without having to worry about getting pulled over and slapped with a DUI. But I am going to see what’s underneath some of those stainless-steel lids.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll be back. My discipline ain’t set up like yours. Save me a seat, please.”

  I shook my head and chuckled, as we split in different directions. “You got it.”

  We had been seated for about twenty minutes when more of our colleagues began to fill the space. The chatter was loud, and everybody seemed to be in good spirits, even though we had been required to dip into time reserved for our time off.

  As the last of the stragglers were taking their seats, plates of food in hand, the doors opened. In walked Julian Escobar, the superintendent for our district. He was bigger than life and a fine-ass Latino specimen, if I said so myself. Along with him, were others that made up his entourage. Some I knew from other meetings the district held. But most, were strangers. They were all dressed casually. The deputy superintendent, Desiree Gillette, who I had conversed with once, was there. The only other person that I recognized, out of the nine or so, was our principal, Madeline Shafer.

  Without proper introductions, the meeting got underway, as Julian dove right into his speech.

  “I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. I fully expected a few of you to respond back saying that you were out of town for the summer and thus unable to attend. So, I’m glad to see that you could make it. I know we didn’t get into introductions of everyone, but we can do that later. I just want to communicate the reason for the urgency, and then any questions you have, I’m ready to answer. Thereafter, we can go around the room and put the names with the faces. Sound good?” he asked, smiling a smile that would probably melt the heart of even the most faithfully-married women in the world. And hell, some men too!

  We all nodded in unison, eager to hear what he had to say, and not wanting to make a peep until we heard it.

  “I hope the food is tasty. I had Elizabeth order from one of my favorite food spots, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Now, on to business. There are going to be some changes coming when the school year begins, and we wanted to let you all know first. Some of it you may have already heard about, but some of it you may not have. We know that there is a lot of shifting countywide with your peers threatening to strike. What we’ve done is assembled a team of highly qualified individuals to come in and work as a task force. They will meet with you individually, as well as in small and large groups to find out what the key issues are. We’re expecting this to be an accelerated effort, and foresee it beginning the first week of September, and into the fourth week. So, your cooperation is essential to the success of this initiative. We want what’s best for all sides—you, the district, and most importantly the kids . . . our future.”

  “Will these workshops take place before business hours or after?” one of my colleagues asked after raising their hand. “Just need to know how to plan out my off-hours…”

  “We are going to be discussing availability with you all before you leave here today and sending out a survey in the next few days to see what works best for the consensus. The goal is to make it as fitting as possible, for all schedules. We’ve also considered doing it before session restarts.” He paused and nodded toward the room. “We realize that that option probably won’t be the most popular. That was a part of the reason for wanting this meeting sooner than later. We know that doing it before session, would drastically cut into your summer, but it could get things moving quicker. The consulting firm is willing if you all are. But this is not a mandatory part of the process, so again . . . we can discuss this before you all leave here today.”

  Nods, and verbal affirmations sounded out throughout the room.

  “I want you all to know that I appreciate the dedication that you consistently show. This campus isn’t recognized as one of the best elementary environments in the state for nothing. It’s the reason that we want to do all that we can to ensure that you’re happy. It matters to us. I figure if we begin the change here, then maybe it will spread, and be a benefit to the whole, and not just a select few.”

  Applause erupted around the conference room from all who were grateful, myself included.

  “My final announcement, before I dig into some of this fine cuisine and get introductions underway . . .” He paused to look down at his expensive watch, then picked right back up where he left off. “Is to ann
ounce that I’ve appointed a new Executive Managing Director that will work alongside me on the Board of Trustees.”

  “Sorry, I’m late . . .” came a voice suddenly, echoing in 3D, and cutting into not just Julian’s speech, but deep into my thoughts, barreling at me breaking all kinds of speed limits!

  Whaaat the fuuuck!

  I stiffened. My mouth fell agape. From my face, to my chest, to my legs, and my motherfucking feet . . . I stiffened. It was the voice. That baritone. I recognized it instantly. I knew it was him before my knowing gaze even found the door.

  “I hope I’m not too late for introductions,” he said, right as his blue eyes landed on mine…

  This isn’t real, I told myself. Though I was fully clothed, sitting there, I felt nude as hell. Sudden nausea rolled through my gut, sending a warm spell to my throat, prompting me to push my plate of food to the side.

  This man. The same man that I had my tryst with at a secret after-hour sex club. The same man that I had shared myself with, on multiple occasions. Slept with, ate with, did . . . things with! What was he doing here?

  This can’t be a coincidence. It can’t be!

  I saw mouths moving, smiles abound, but I could hear nothing except for the thumping of my heart booming inside my eardrums.

  Is that a smirk on his face?

  Or am I imagining it?

  Is he mocking me in silence in a room full of people?

  The rest of that meeting was a complete blur. I heard nothing. I saw nothing. I wasn’t in the room. I was somewhere high above that pool, and then that bed at the Bellagio, staring down at myself get busy with this man. This man that I had agreed to date. We were in the process of seeing where things could go! What the fuck?!

  This man that’s seen me naked, seen my freaky side, heard me moan like I was part of the call of the fucking wild! I wanted to bat my eyes so that I could know for myself that I was still a part of the living, a part of the moment that everybody else was in. But I couldn’t even do that. I was fixated in a time already gone.