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  “Buckle up, girls.” Monet looked over her shoulder (as she’d always done) to make sure the girls’ seat belts were secure.

  Dropping them off at school, Monet hugged and kissed her babies the way she had since their first day of school. Her next stop was the grocery store, then back home to prep for dinner. Dicing squash, zucchini, mushrooms, to make a vegetarian lasagna, her phone rang. No need to check the caller ID. It was her husband’s ringtone.

  Flatly Monet answered, “Hi, Kingston.”

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked. “You sound down.”

  “I’m good. What’s up?” she replied.

  “I think Lilly is closer to finding us a house. One I know you’ll like,” he said. “I don’t want you to be down about this. Everything is good.”

  “Kingston, you don’t need me. You decide. That’s why you’re in Atlanta. Right? I have to take care of our children. By myself.” Monet gently floated the noodles one at a time in the pot of boiling water.

  “I don’t like it when you talk this way,” her husband admitted.

  Her voice was monotone. “Is there anything else, Kingston? I have to finish preparing dinner, pick up the girls in a few hours, help them with homework, make sure they bathe, put them to bed, read them a story, get up early, cook them breakfast, prepare their lunch, comb their hair, drop them off at school, go to the store, figure out what’s for dinner, get home, cook dinner. I have to do this five days a week with no help from my husband. And, thanks to you, without my mother.”

  “Baby, treat yourself on the weekends,” he said.

  What world was her husband living in?

  “Oh, I guess Israel can drive the red Ferrari and take her sister to Brownie activities and then drive herself to her Girl Scouts meeting and pick up their friends for sleepovers on the weekends. Or I can go on an app, hire a babysitter I know nothing about, and let him or her cater to our girls while I entertain myself. What in the fuck is wrong with you?! Get your ass home and help me.” Monet wanted to hurl a knife at their family photo. She might as well carve her husband’s image out and flush it down the garbage disposal.

  “Why isn’t Trinity there?” Kingston asked in the same calm tone. “Mama-T always helps you out.”

  Lowering her voice, Monet told Kingston. “Find yourself a home. We’re staying in Columbia.”

  “I promise. It won’t take much—”

  Ending the call, Monet opened the phone app, clicked on her favorites, pressed edits, and deleted her husband’s number. Rethinking what she’d done, she reentered Kingston’s information into her list of favorites, then pressed BLOCK THIS CALLER.

  CHAPTER 15

  Victoria

  Victoria laid a black hand towel across her nightstand in her guest bedroom. Black satin sheets covered the king-sized mattress and pillows.

  Filling the Crock-Pot with hot water, she set it next to her bed, plugged it in, then turned the knob to a medium temperature. Victoria added an ounce of coconut oil, then placed two face towels, one crystal vaginal egg, and a four-ounce glass bottle of honeydew sensual massage oil, mixed with lavender, inside the pot. She placed her second crystal egg in the bottom of a short glass, topped it with crushed ice, then placed the glass on the nightstand next to the Crock-Pot.

  Victoria texted Kingston, Chancelor, and Jordan, See everyone at church tomorrow. We’re ushering the late service. Gray uniforms.

  She turned on her Bluetooth speaker, selected her favorite playlist of Isley Brothers, Trey Songz, and Kem. Before stepping into the shower, she covered her hair with a leopard plastic cap that had a silk lining. Warm, pulsating water splattered against her back. Victoria covered her body with an oil-based scrub, gently rubbed herself all over. Removing the handle from its holder, she switched the temperature to cool. Increasing the pressure, she lowered the showerhead to her pussy.

  Inhaling. Exhaling. Again and again. Victoria enjoyed elevating her libido. Excitement rose from her vagina, to her abdomen, all the way to her throat. Wiggling the wand between her labia made her want to climax. “Okay, that’s enough,” she told herself aloud, on the verge of having an orgasm.

  Self-pleasuring in the shower was a libido booster she’d discovered when her sex drive started decreasing. Using clit stimulators, dildos, vibrators, and vaginal crystal eggs kept her desire to have orgasms on edge without needing one of those G-spot injections that claimed to make a woman squirt every time she had sex. She worried that hormone replacements would not only increase her risk of getting cancer, but that it might eliminate her desire to have multiple orgasms with much younger men.

  Exiting the shower, she texted a guy she’d met on TuitionCougars: My gate code is 579. See you in 20 minutes. I’ll leave the front door unlocked.

  If their relationship progressed, Victoria would be doing doubles every Saturday. Mornings with a handsome, hot, hard-body youngster and Saturday nights with Big Willy.

  Moisturizing her freshly showered body with a mixture of shea butter, avocado, and black seed oils, she stared at her glowing reflection in the full-length mirror. Her once-ultraperky boobs were drooping, but just a little. Victoria placed a cotton swab under each breast. They vanished from sight. A decade ago they would’ve fallen to the floor. Hoisting her DD-cups, she wondered if she should get a lift. Turning sideways, she suctioned in her stomach. Maybe she should consider butt implants if she was going to keep fucking twentysomethings.

  “Let’s see,” Victoria said softly, searching through lingerie with tags attached.

  All-yellow stockings, garter, thong, and low-cut bra dangled in her hands. “Do millennials and the Z-generation even care about such?” She kept the thong, swapped the attire for a simple red baby-doll negligee. The thong disappeared between her butt cheeks, making her ass appear bigger. “That’s the look,” she said, pleased with her decision.

  Her ringtone for her garage gate commanded her attention. Victoria smiled, tapped # for her guest to enter. Standing in her doorway, she motioned for him to come inside.

  “Wow. You are so beautiful for your age. I can’t believe you’re fifty,” he said. “I brought us a bottle of Hennessy.”

  “How thoughtful. I’ll fix us a drink while you go to the bedroom.” She pointed toward the open door, then continued, “Get undressed and lay on top of the satin sheet. Facing up.”

  Getting some glasses for their imbibing, Victoria poured a hefty portion of liquor into his snifter; then she halfway filled her goblet with red wine. There was no such thing as too early to enjoy libations with a young handsome man. Nor should she delay her sexual gratification with small talk.

  Returning to the bedroom, she set the drinks on the other night-stand. Removing a towel, she twisted until the last heated drop of excess water plopped in the Crock-Pot, then gently cleansed her lover’s genital area.

  “That’s hot!” he exclaimed.

  “So are you. Turn over so I can cleanse you,” she said, then firmly rubbed his ass and his asshole.

  “This is why I love older women. My dick and my ass feel amazing,” he said.

  Victoria retrieved a large condom from the nightstand’s drawer, opened the packet, tossed the wrapper on the black-and-white towel, then commanded, “Turn onto your back.” She quickly suctioned in the tip, then slipped the prophylactic inside her mouth.

  Victoria inserted the warm crystal egg into her vagina to start her natural juices flowing. While the egg got her wet, she drizzled Kama Sutra oil over his chest and down to his feet, then began rubbing him all over.

  “What’s that that you put in your pussy?” he asked.

  She mumbled, “This will feel better if you hold your question until we’re done.” Firmly stroking his shaft, she ejected the egg using her muscles, eased the condom over his corona with her mouth, rolled it down to the youngster’s pubic hairs, using her lips, then straddled her lover. “Put this big, hard, beautiful dick inside this wet pussy,” she commanded.

  Holding his penis, he asked, “Where�
��d the raincoat come from? You real quick.”

  Victoria slid her hand under the pillow, located her Slim-10–speed gold metallic vibrator. Pushing the button, she circled the smooth tip around his nipple.

  “Oh, shit!” He held her wrist. “What’s that?”

  “Let go of me and relax. You’ll get used to it,” she said, moving his hand.

  Victoria increased the speed a level, reached behind her back, then slowly slid the Slim-10 along his perineum. She rocked back and forth, grinding on his stiffening erection. She felt his shaft expanding inside of her.

  “Oh, my God, lady! I never did this,” he exclaimed. “This feels amazing!”

  The more she explored his sensitive spots with varying vibrations, the harder his dick became. Reaching underneath the pillow again, she pulled out a vibrating cock ring, then powered it on. Quickly sliding it over his head, she put his penis back inside of her.

  “Lady! What else is under that damn pillow!” the twentysomething shouted.

  Victoria pinched his nipples hard, then focused on him. Reaching behind her, she moved the pulsating device from his perineum to his rectum. Holding it at the opening, she switched from the constant vibration to a pulsation, then tightened her vaginal muscles.

  “Lady, I’m about to cummmm!” He shouted the last word for about ten seconds.

  “Thank You, Lord Jesus!” Victoria exhaled as she climaxed with him. “God is good.”

  Her lover stared at her with wide eyes. “I feel like I need to pay you. When can I see you again?”

  Well, there was no rest for the weary. She had to get ready for dinner with Willy.

  “You were fantastic, young man. I’ll CashApp you five hundred dollars for your books. Everything you need to freshen up is in the guest bathroom to your left. Use the towels on the vanity. When you’re done, toss them in the hamper. Oh, and take the rest of your Hennessy with you.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Jordan

  “Thanks for coming.” Jordan handed the church collection basket to Terrence Russell, who was seated on the end. She glanced around Kingston, across the aisle on the last row. Chancelor’s head was bowed and his attention was fixated on Tracy Benjamin.

  “My pleasure, Ms. Jackson. I appreciate the invite,” Terrence replied, placing a $100 bill on top, before passing the collection to the woman at his right.

  “It’s better to give than it is to receive,” Pastor Baloney preached. “Give freely for you cannot outgive God. That includes everyone.” Pastor stared in Tracy’s direction. Or maybe he was singling out Peaches.

  Hope for All Church had fallen into a shameful pit, syphoning its parishioners into a black hole. Most of the congregation knew the pastor had slept with the choir director. She—the same choir director—had committed adultery with the first lady. Jordan remained a loyal member because everyone was a sinner, and no ministry was without challenges. That, and she’d witnessed how the pastor had increased the profits of his people.

  Tracy took the wicker basket from Melvin, then passed it to Chancelor without dropping anything inside. Chancelor bit his bottom lip, then mouthed “you see this whore” to Jordan. Every member watching Chancelor probably could make out what he’d said. Jordan placed her finger on her mouth.

  Forming a double-file line, the four of them marched toward the altar, then faced the congregation. Jordan stared at Terrence. Soon as the doors of the church were closed and service had ended, she made her way to him.

  “I really want to thank you for being here,” she said, holding his hand as they exited to the sidewalk.

  Terrence was dressed in a tan suit. The eighty-two degrees seemed too high for any type of jacket. Jordan wondered if his attire was ever casual. His clean-shaven face was well moisturized. She was attracted to his dark brown skin, full perfectly shaped brows, and she could tell he was muscular by the outline of his physique. Terrence stood face-to-face with Jordan. Held her other hand.

  “After I left the bar, I heard on the radio that your friend’s son was killed. When I got home, I saw Donovan Bradley and a picture of his deceased son on practically every news channel. I understood why he’d called you. I would’ve done the same, had I been in his position. I like you, Jordan.” Terrence squeezed her hands. “A lot. And I’d appreciate an opportunity to spoil you.”

  Jordan welcomed the comfort of this man. His words seemed sincere, but she wasn’t emotionally investing in him yet. Terrence was operating off a feeling that she was all too familiar with. Love. A love void. She knew more about him than he did about her. One more heartbreak could be devastating and could leave her jaded for the rest of her life.

  “Who’s this handsome specimen?” Victoria asked, standing next to Jordan.

  “Terrence Russell. Jordan’s friend,” he politely said, extending his hand in Victoria’s direction.

  Responding in kind, Victoria smiled at Terrence, then told Jordan, “See you in a few.”

  “Okay, girl,” Jordan answered. “But I might have to leave early.” Her eyes shined brighter than the sun.

  Watching Victoria head toward the parking lot, Jordan looked at Terrence. “He . . . Donovan wants me to represent him.”

  Sharing that information was a leap for Jordan, as she normally refrained from divulging professional details of any kind with a new acquaintance. It would be nice to have a man lie in bed next to her and listen to her after a long day in the courtroom.

  Terrence said, “You sure that’s a good—”

  A man’s voice erupted, “Get your hands off of her, man, before I whup your ass!”

  Jordan’s neck snapped in the direction of the commotion. “Oh, shit!” Running down the steps in her heels, Jordan got to Chancelor the same time as Victoria and Kingston.

  “Let me go! You’re hurting me! Ow! Somebody help me!” Tracy yelled, seemingly more for attention. Or to substantiate a lawsuit.

  “Chancelor, let’s go. Now!” Kingston grabbed Chancelor from behind by his biceps, hoisted Chancelor in the air. Did a one-eighty turn.

  Facing Victoria and Jordan, Chancelor shouted, “She’s a whore, y’all! That’s what I’m trying to tell Melvin.” Chancelor kicked his feet. “Put me down, dude.”

  Melvin raced around Kingston, punched Chancelor in the stomach several times. Chancelor kicked. Hit Melvin in the face. Melvin spat blood and a tooth into his hand.

  “Oh, you gon’ pay for this.” Melvin opened his mouth, eased his finger inside the empty space. “This ain’t over, nigga.”

  Thank God, Kingston released Chancelor, then stood between Melvin and Chancelor.

  Kingston grabbed Chancelor by the back of his vest. “C’mon. You’re riding with me. See you ladies in a few. Melvin, bruh, you struck first. You come for my boy, you come for me, too,” Kingston said.

  Turning to Terrence, who stood beside her, Jordan shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Terrence, but I have to go. Chancelor needs counsel and a group intervention. Thanks again for coming. Hope to see you next Sunday.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Jordan

  “Levi, open both bottles at the same time,” Jordan insisted. She plopped down in her seat between Victoria and Chancelor; Kingston was on time and in uniform, like the rest of them, because he’d brought Chancelor directly from church to the bar.

  “Y’all look a mess.” Levi placed two goblets on the table, removed an opener from his vest pocket, peeled the foil tabs, then uncorked each bottle. “Be right back with a double brandy and double cognac, fellas.”

  Jordan immediately chastised and counseled Chancelor. “Don’t ever put your hand, hands, dick, lips, or any parts of your entire being on Tracy ever again. Do not call or text Tracy ever again. Do not mention her name ever again. Pray she doesn’t charge your ass with assault and sue you for pain and suffering. That dumb live you did outside her home went viral. Refrain from social media posts. She has lots of proof and witnesses and you gave it to her. For what? What are you trying to prove?”

  Chan
celor sat with his arms folded high across his chest.

  “Yeah, bruh. Let it go,” Kingston added. “We all play the fool sometimes. That chick has got you out of character. I ain’t tryna fight a dude over a female that’s not even your girl.”

  Chancelor’s posture and lips were stiff, as though he disregarded every word.

  “Not you, my brother. You’re nobody’s fool.” Levi handed Kingston his drink first. Placed Chancelor’s on the table in front of him, then left.

  “Kingston, don’t be so quick to protect Chancelor,” Jordan said. “You might get sued by Melvin. He could claim you picked up Chancelor so Chancelor could kick him in the face. Melvin spat his tooth into a handful of blood. Did anyone besides me see that?”

  “Good.” Chancelor nodded upward. “I had the right to defend myself. Y’all saw him punch me first. One of our church members have to have that on video.”

  That was the damn problem with men. They thought they could justify their way out of any situation, even when they knew they were wrong. They always thought about the consequences of their actions after the fact, when shit got too complicated for them to deal with. Jordan had intentionally stood back so no one could hold her responsible. Victoria had kept a good distance as well.

  “Thank the Lord, He showed you the real Tracy before you proposed,” Victoria joked. “Where did you find her? In Bankhead? We need to clone Tracy’s pus—”

  “Shut up, everybody,” Chancelor demanded, handing his cell to Jordan. “Since you’re the background expert, fuck Tracy Benjamin. Set me up with my future wife.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea. “Oh. Wait.” Jordan stared at his screen. A dating app was open. She read aloud, “ ‘ChristianFornicators’? Really, Chancelor?”

  Victoria took Chancelor’s phone from Jordan. Kingston snatched it from Victoria, then returned it to its owner.

  Chancelor passed it back to Jordan. “I never said I wasn’t on a dating site. That’s where I met that ho.”