7. Breeze #3
“Yes!” I cried, shook, and came with no announcement all over his dick.
His grip got weaker, and he pulled out of me and released.
The rapid rise and fall of our chests were indications that we were both worn out.
Shareese watched us with lust in her eyes, tangled in each other. A small smile tugged at her lips.
“I’m going to start the shower,” she said lowly.
Q and I just lay there, coated in each other’s juices for the better part of five minutes before he peeled himself from the mattress, and then he picked me up and carried me into the shower. I leaned against the wall, needing all the support that I could get.
We showered and got into bed. I lay on Q’s chest, tucked snugly underneath his body, and it was lights out.
***
“Breeze…” I woke up to being lightly shaken. I groaned, agitated. I was sleeping like a princess, and I didn’t want to be disturbed.
Slowly, my eyes opened to meet the relaxed face of Shareese. She smiled at me.
“You’ve slept through most of the morning, get up and let’s go have breakfast on the patio,” she said, pulling the strings of her robe tighter as I struggled to sit up.
I scoffed and rubbed my hands through my hair. I threw one leg off the bed, and then another. I went into the bathroom, washed my face, and brushed my teeth before I walked outside to the patio. There was a beautiful breakfast spread on the table.
“Good morning,” I mumbled as I walked past Q.
He caught my wrist and pulled me into his lap. “You good?” He asked.
“I’m tired…”
He nodded and kissed me twice before letting me get up and walk around the table to one of the empty chairs.
We had about five hours left before we had to leave, and I would be going back to my home life.
I was ashamed to say that Q had me so occupied that I had barely had any time to think about what Tim was doing.
Hell, I had barely checked my phone this entire time.
I was completely detached from the outside world while I was here.
But with the hours of the weekend winding down, the high of the experience was starting to wear off.
Guilt was setting in. I don’t know how I was supposed to look at or be intimate with my husband, knowing that I had been wrecked for hours on end, and my throat had been painted so much Picasso could sign it.
“You need this?” Shareese asked me, holding the syrup toward me and breaking me out of my thoughts.
I nodded and took it from her hands and poured it onto my waffles. “Thank you.”Although I was in my head, everyone at the table was sitting there on my account. I didn’t want to ruin the beautiful weekend that we had, so I did my best to mask my feelings and make small talk.
“How long do you think it’ll be before I can get my truck?” Shareese asked.
“Probably another eight weeks,” I informed her.
Q’s brows furrowed.
“You bought a truck from B?” He asked her.
“ We bought a truck from Breeze. I’ll send you the invoice for this weekend. My stomach hurts, and I can actually feel that I have an asshole. I don’t even fuck with you like that. This definitely won’t be free,” she joked, and we all burst into laughter.
“I got you, Sha.” He shook his head as he forked more of his eggs.
We pushed away from the table, and we all cleaned up the villa and gathered our things so we could have a smooth transition out.
Every step that I walked around the villa agitated me.
Every comb, brush, and sandal that I packed was a reminder that this was a chapter closed.
I had to really come to terms with the fact that this was the last time I would see Quentin.
I know that it didn’t have to be. Tim and I had already agreed on giving each other hall passes twice a year.
But I needed it to be. Because I didn’t want to disregard my marriage by being so focused on chasing a sexual feeling that would likely one day fizzle and then leave me feeling unfulfilled.
But truthfully, right now, that feeling is what I wanted, and it scared me more than anything.
Quentin had found a way to ignite something in me, a person that I didn’t even know that I could be.
For the longest time, I had always felt that I was sexually fulfilled.
But there is an entire world that exists far beyond anything that Tim and I have done, and I can’t let the need to explore that hinder the life that we’ve built together.
But if I keep chasing this current feeling? That’s exactly what it’ll do.
Or maybe it won’t. Maybe it’s my inexperience leading me to think that I’ll become physically attached to every man I sleep with because that’s all I know.
I sighed out loud because I was lying to myself.
There was no way that you would get the type of dick that Quentin has and walk away without thinking about it daily.
He fucked with so much passion that it made you feel like he was selling you a dream while he had promised you absolutely nothing at all.
The way he could command a room had even taken Shareese from threats of aggravated assault to screaming his name.
I sighed out loud in frustration as I put the last of my things in the bag and turned toward the mirror and looked at my reflection.
Then I walked back down the stairs to see what they were doing.
I didn’t have to wonder because as soon as I started to descend the stairs, the faint sounds of moans got louder.
This was exactly what my mental battle was about.
Even she had to take some dick for the road.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw her on the couch straddling him. She was riding him, feet planted in the cushion of the sofa, and he was meeting her thrusts from underneath her.
“Damn, Q! I’m about to cummmm!” She whined as she steadied herself with one hand behind her on his knee.
“Give it to me, ma,” he demanded as he continued to fuck her.
Shareese had her back toward me, but Quentin hadn’t looked in my direction once as I stood there just watching them.
Again, my center felt like it had a pulse as I listened to him ask her where she wanted him to cum, and she told him her mouth.
It was only once they switched positions and she was swallowing him that they both noticed me.
Quentin was the epitome of what proper hydration could do to the body because I don’t know how he was able to pull off all these rounds and cum every single time.
Leaving them to it, I turned on my heels and stood in the doorway of the patio that they had left open. I was getting some fresh air and trying to clear my head. After a while, I felt Q’s hand snake around my waist and pull me closer to him.
“You in your head?” He asked as he rested his head on my shoulder.
“You know I hate you and that damn notepad,” I laughed, making him do so as well. He was always psychoanalyzing everything.
“That’s a yeah?” He doubled down on his question.
I stepped out of his embrace and then turned to face him. “Q, do you know that this might be the last time that we see each other? That I’ll probably suggest another therapist? And the only time we’ll see each other will have to be in passing.”
“If that’s what you want, Breeze,” he held my stare. I sighed, and then he pulled me to him and rubbed my butt.
He peppered kisses down the side of my face as we were just wrapped in one another. It felt heavy. It felt like a goodbye, like something good coming to an end.
We parted ways, and then he looked down at me. I reached up and touched his beard. He stopped me, grabbing my hand and holding it in his. Then he pulled me back into the house.
“We got four hours, Breeze,” he said as he led me up the stairs.
I chuckled.
But after we ascended the stairs, there was nothing remotely funny about the things that he did to my body.
He was fucking me with a purpose, and it was either to make me renege on this being the last time or to leave me with just enough to regret every single day that I was away from him.
He ate me like he was hungry, kissed every inch of my body, sucked my toes, put his fingers in my butt, and didn’t let up until he felt like he had made his point. All while Shareese watched.
The time seemed to have been put on fast-forward, because before I knew it, the driver was coming to the villa to pick us up and take us to the airport. The energy was light, we joked, laughed, and talked about the things that we saw along the way, but my heart was heavy.
The plane ride back to the States was smooth as I alternated between eating snacks and dozing off while watching movies.
Q and Shareese had switched seats, so we sat together while he sat behind us.
He was such a gentleman; he had been doing his best since she arrived not to make her feel like a third wheel.
Because I invited her, I appreciated that.
The plane landed, and it was time for us to all part ways. Shareese said she had driven there, so we made sure she got into her car safely before we requested our respective trucks.
My screen lit up first, the notification alerting me that my driver was arriving in two minutes. I stood and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.
“The truck is almost here,” I said lowly as we both sat waiting in silence.
He didn’t speak; he just walked with my things out to the curb, where we confirmed the driver's tag, then opened the door for me while the driver loaded them. I stood in the doorway and looked up at him.
He placed his hand around my neck, leaned down, grabbed me, and kissed me slower and deeper than I had ever been kissed before.
We stayed out there, in the middle of the arrivals area, tonguing each other down.
At one point, I even heard a girl say “damn” from behind us.
But that didn’t deter us. He kissed me like he literally believed that he would never have the chance again.
Then we parted, and he looked down at me and adjusted himself in his slacks.
“B?”
“Yes, Dr. Long?” I asked with a sly grin on my face.
“I’mma miss you too.” He placed a kiss on my forehead and turned to go back into the airport. I flopped down in the seat, admittedly wet from the kiss. Just as we pulled away from the curb, I got a notification.
Husband: I see you landed. I’ll see you soon, ma. Love you.
I wanted to take my phone and snap it in half over my knee like the Hulk. But instead, I just sent a cute, politically correct, wife-like response.
Me: Love you more, handsome. I’ve missed you.
From his message, I could see his location, and he had already made it home.
I closed my eyes and lay my head against the window for the entire ride, trying to decompress.
The driver could have been taking me to his dungeon, and I wouldn’t have known a thing.The car slowed to a halt, and I opened my eyes to see the outside of my home.
“Thank you,” I said as he opened the door and then went around the back to grab my bags.
Typing in the code on the keypad, I pushed open the door and didn’t even try to find Tim.
I left my things at the bottom of the stairs, then made a beeline for the guest bathroom and started undressing.
I even used one of the new toothbrushes in there to brush my teeth.
I was wrecked. Had Tim been standing at the door with a black light, I would have lit up like a Christmas tree.
I had to get every trace of him off of me.
I showered, gargled, washed away my sins, wrapped a towel around my body and another around my head, and went upstairs to throw on a dress, expecting to see him in our room. But he wasn’t there, and when I passed the office he wasn’t there either, so I went in search of my husband.
I found him in the den, watching the Milwaukee Bucks, his leg kicked up on the ottoman, with a drink.
When he turned to me, his eyes scanned my body in a way that made me feel exposed. It was almost like he was examining me. Like he hadn’t expected me to come back in one piece.
“Well, hey,” I said as I neared him.
He stretched his arm out and invited me into his lap, where I sat across him. He stared at me for a beat too long. The dramatic silence made my pulse race.
Then he kissed my lips quickly and brought me closer to him. I lay against his chest, with my mind racing and my thoughts confusing me.
“Breeze…” he said after a while.
“Yes?”
“I mean what I said when I told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
My heart smiled at his words, and for a second, nothing else in the world mattered.
“You will,” I assured him.
We watched the game and laughed the night away.
We even made a couple of bets before we retired to bed just after midnight.
I thought that I would be first, but Tim was snoring before I could even turn off the lamp on my side of the bed.
I lay there just listening to him breathe.
Then, I turned toward the nightstand and grabbed my phone from it.
Unlocking the phone, I went to my messages, clicked on Quentin’s name, and typed “goodbye.” But then I decided against it.
This wasn’t some whirlwind love affair; it didn’t require formalities and a big breakup.
We didn’t need “closure.” There was no need to reiterate what we had already known when this started.
So instead, I deleted our message thread, went to his contact, and blocked him.
Putting it back on my nightstand, I closed my eyes and prepared to go to sleep.
I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life chasing a new high when I had been high every day of my life since middle school.
That was what mattered. But I wasn’t in denial by any stretch of imagination.
I knew that I could block Quentin from my phone, from my marriage, and even from between my legs.
But in my mind? He had a permanent residence.