“Do you love him?” I asked, dreading to hear the answer.
“Yes.” She looked at me. “I do, but love is not enough. And the love that I have for him is based in toxicity. I can’t love Patrick and be emotionally healthy at the same time.”
Brooke and I shared a nice, light meal, then sang some karaoke. We sounded hideous, but it was a lot of fun. I walked her out to her car afterward.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive, Brooke? You had a few drinks and didn’t eat much.”
“I’m fine.” She put her hand on my back as we were walking and rubbed it up and down. It sent goose bumps up my spine. “I’m going to go over to Destiny’s and crash.”
“That’s a ways from here.” I stopped in my tracks and took her hand. “Let me drive you.”
“And leave my car here? That makes zero sense, Damon. I’d have to trek all the way back out here tomorrow to get it.”
“I can bring you back.”
“You’re not my man, Damon.”
But part of me wishes I was.
“And I’m not your responsibility,” she added.
I ran my fingers through her hair. I could smell the almond-scented shampoo. “What if I want you to be my responsibility?”
Brooke giggled. “Now you’re the one acting drunk!”
“But I don’t drink alcohol!”
“Maybe you should,” she said jokingly. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
I’m not thinking clearly at all because I want to kiss you!
She stared up into my eyes for a brief moment, then stumbled off toward her car.
“Brooke, you’re not driving home. That’s final.” I caught up to her and grabbed her keys. She tried to get them, but I dangled them over my head.
“Give them back!” she ordered.
“No, not a chance.” I put her keys in my pocket and pointed toward my car. “Let’s go.”
“But I don’t want to come all the way back out here tomorrow, Damon. I have to be at work by noon or Hank is going to have a heart attack.”
“You won’t have to come back.” I helped her walk to my car and opened the door for her. “I have an idea.”
I drove to the Sheraton and got us a suite. Brooke didn’t protest, and even if she had, I was still going to do it. Once we got up to the seventh floor and settled in, I called Carleigh while Brooke was in the bathroom taking a shower. Even though she was half out of it, she still wanted to bathe before bed. My kind of woman.
Carleigh didn’t answer the house phone so I tried her cell. She didn’t answer that either so I left her a message—a lie.
“Carleigh, it’s me,” I said into the phone. “I’m going to crash at Bobby’s tonight. He’s going through some things and he could really use a friend. I’ll be home in the morning. Call me if you need anything.”
The only similarity between what I’d said and the truth was that Brooke and Bobby both started with a B. I did feel guilty, but I simply couldn’t leave her; not like that. Allowing her to drive was not an option. After all, we’d met because of someone driving recklessly. I’d lost my arm because of it. No one was ever going to take off out of a parking lot intoxicated or drugged on my watch.
Brooke came out of the bathroom a little while later, wrapped in a bathrobe provided by the hotel.
“Feel better?” I inquired.
“Much, much better. I was going to shower earlier, but then Patrick and I got into it before I could. I can’t stand the smell of the food from the diner on me. I hope that I didn’t offend you with my body odor.”
I grinned as she sat down on the bed in the sleeping section of the suite. I was watching her from the sofa in the other room. “You always smell great to me. Besides, we were in a crab house, Brooke. That smell masks everything else.”
“Good point.” She glanced at me. “Don’t you need to get home? I can catch a cab to get my car in the morning.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“But, what—”
“I’m not leaving. I left Carleigh a message. It’s cool.”
Brooke looked at the alarm clock on the side of the bed. “It’s after one. She didn’t answer?”
I lied, “She’s probably asleep.”
My lie must have been obvious. All Brooke said was “Oh.”
She picked up the remote, turned on the television, and started flicking through channels.
“Anything good on?” I asked.
“Not so far. A bunch of infomercials. Is it just me or have hotels cut back on the premium channels?”
“They want people to purchase a lot of pay-per-view movies.”
“Ah, gotcha.” She cut the television off and tossed the remote on the bedspread. “Not that I stay in hotels on the regular.”
“Patrick doesn’t take you out of town? Isn’t he loaded?”
“Yes, he’s very loaded, but I work all the time. He’s asked me to go a ton of places, but I’ve only been to New York and that was in high school.”
“Brooke, please tell me that you’re kidding.” She couldn’t be serious. “You haven’t traveled in that long?”
“What’s the big deal? If you’ve seen one city, you’ve seen them all.”
Brooke’s inexperience endeared her to me even more. “You should see the world someday. You have to see the world. Maybe we can see it together.”
What the hell, Damon!
Brooke stared at me. “See it together?” She got up off the bed and walked toward me. “Damon, I think we need to have a talk.”
“I know where you’re going and it’s cool.” I raised my left hand to calm her down. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ve got to get up and out of here fairly early.”
Brooke hesitated before saying, “Okay.”
She went back and lay down on the bed, then turned off the lamp on the nightstand. I had a blanket to bunker down on the sofa. I craved a shower, but was not ready for Brooke to see me without my prosthetic attached; she had seen it through clothing, but not my actual stub. I realized that she still felt guilt over what had happened, even though that was a ludicrous thought.
I pulled the blanket up over me and watched her fall asleep. She tossed and turned for a little while, then began snoring lightly. I stared at her, part of me hoping that the robe would come loose at the top and expose her breasts. I had zero business hoping that, but I couldn’t control my thoughts … or my stiff dick.
I finally succumbed to sleep about an hour later, after giving much thought to both Carleigh and Brooke. I could no longer deny it: I wanted Brooke. But I couldn’t hurt Carleigh; even if she was hell-bent on doing things to push me away. She hadn’t even bothered to call me back. My message stated that I would talk to her in the morning. Still, she could have had enough concern for my well-being, or for Bobby’s for that matter, to call and check up on us.
I had to try to make my marriage work. But how was I going to remain Brooke’s friend and never give in to my growing desire to be with her? I could damn near feel my dick inside her. Inside her pussy; inside her mouth. As she tossed and turned, I lay there in the darkness, fantasizing about how good we could be together. Unlike Carleigh, Brooke always seemed not only supportive of my efforts, but excited about them. She had this genuine compassion that couldn’t be faked or acted out like a Broadway play. While Brooke was stunningly beautiful, the thing that drew me to her the most was her heart.
I found myself quietly jerking off underneath the blanket, like some dirty old man in an adult movie theater jacking off at the screen. I wondered if her pussy was lukewarm or steaming hot. I wondered if her nipples stood at attention when they were sucked upon and if she liked to have her pussy eaten. I wondered if she would let me run the tip of my tongue down the crack of her ass, or if she would swallow my seed. If she loved to suck dick, only did it to appease a man, or didn’t suck dick at all.
Damon, get a damn hold of yourself!
I took my hand off of my dick and turned my back t
o Brooke. What I was doing was wrong, very, very wrong.
I forced myself to go to sleep, but woke up with the same erection several hours later. I went into the bathroom and took a shower while Brooke was still asleep; I jerked off under the showerhead and finally found some relief. Then I woke her up and told her that we’d better get back to her car. She quickly dressed and we headed out.
She seemed well rested, and once we got into the elevator to head down to the lobby, I asked, “So, how did you sleep?”
“Like a baby.” She smiled. “I always feel safe when you’re around.”
“That’s because I would never hurt you.”
We stared at each other for a moment, until the elevator doors opened for us to get off. She understood what I was saying. If I was your man, you’d never have to worry about me causing you any harm. I couldn’t speak those exact words though. I couldn’t be her man, as badly as I craved to be just that.
“You’d never hurt Carleigh either,” Brooke said, reminding me of my wife. “Would you?”
I was honest. “Not intentionally.”
I took her hand as we headed to the parking lot. No further words were spoken between us until we got back to her car and said good-bye.
Brooke
June 14, 2008
I DON’T know whom I was more disappointed with, Patrick or myself. I couldn’t believe that he hadn’t come chasing after me even once since the blowup. And I couldn’t believe that part of me wanted him to, so I’d know that he still cared. But I didn’t really need him to show up at the diner and cause a scene or wait outside Destiny’s apartment building to know that. I was sure that he cared for me, in his own sick, perverted way. Patrick was a victim of circumstances, raised to consider himself a cut above the rest and, therefore, able to get away with things normal men could not. Then again, some women were putting up with poor-ass, damn-near paupers cheating on their asses.
It was a Saturday and Hank had actually given me an entire weekend off. I don’t know if he felt sorry for me or didn’t want me moping around the diner depressing the customers. I had a sneaking suspicion that Destiny had something to do with it, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
I walked into the kitchen, where she was scrambling eggs with cheese and making wheat toast.
“You want some breakfast?” she asked.
“No thanks, but I would like an explanation.” I sat down at the breakfast bar on a stool. “How come I have the weekend off?”
“How the hell should I know?!” Destiny reached into the refrigerator and retrieved a half gallon of orange juice. “Didn’t you ask for it?”
“No, I did not ask for it.” She poured some juice into a glass and guzzled it down, damn near choking on the pulp. As she cleared her throat, I added, “You’ve never been a good liar.”
Destiny glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, put the glass down on the counter, then laughed. “Okay, whatever. I told that member of the troll patrol that you needed a break. He didn’t want to do it, but once I explained how you suffered that nervous breakdown in high school from trying to do too much, he agreed to give you a couple of days off.”
“I never had a nervous breakdown in high school.”
“Shit, you know I know that.” We both laughed. “But he doesn’t need to know.”
“Now you’re going to have Hank thinking that I’m certifiably cuckoo.”
“Better than you actually getting there.” She came and sat on the stool beside me with her plate and started spreading apple butter on her toast. She pointed to her food. “Sure you don’t want any?”
“I’m straight. Thank you.” I sighed and shook my head. “This is so strange.”
“What’s strange?”
“Having a weekend off. What am I going to do?”
“Well, unfortunately, I have to work this weekend.” Destiny was scheduled one weekend a month on her J-O-B. “What you need to do is get some rest.”
“Rest. What the hell is that?”
“Then go check out some of the tourist attractions. D.C. is full of them, but, like most residents, we never go.”
I giggled. “Good point. You ever seen the Constitution?”
“Not in real life.” Destiny took a bite of her eggs. “But that’s not what I meant. Going to look at an old-ass piece of paper is not exciting.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“The aquarium. The zoo. The wax museum.”
“Ooh, now I do want to go to the wax museum. I bet it costs a mint to get up in there though.”
“Go online and check.”
“I’ll do that.” I got up and paused to give Destiny a hug from the back. “Thanks, sis.”
“For what?”
“For being you. Letting me bum here.”
“You’re helping out with the rent so you’re not a complete moocher.”
“Still, this has always been your private sanctuary. You refuse to shack with a man, and here I come.”
“Shacking with men is overrated. No matter how good the dick is, it eventually gets old.” She took a bite of her toast, which was seriously burnt. “I like what Harold and I are doing. If we want to spend time, we spend it. If we want to chill out apart, I simply bring my ass back here to the crib.”
“You know what? I am going to go lie back down for a little while. Hell, I’d better grab this chance when I get it.” I paused in the doorway to the kitchen. “Once I get up, I’m going to check out some of the sights.”
“Maybe you can check out some of the two-legged, hung-like-a-mule sights while you’re at it,” Destiny said giddily. “Everyone needs to be held, Brooke. Even you.”
“Patrick and I haven’t been broken up that long.”
“You planning on getting back with him?”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then it’s time to explore other options.” She paused. “And Damon is not an option.”
I stared at her for a moment, halfway offended, but also knowing that my attraction to Damon couldn’t be denied. I could never act on it though.
“You’re right. No married man is an option.”
“He doesn’t seem like your type, anyway.”
I folded my arms in front of me. “What do you mean by that? Because he’s disabled?”
Destiny stared at me. “You know good and damn well what I mean, Brooke. It has nothing to do with his missing arm.”
“If I recall, you were the main one talking about how fine Damon was in the gym way back,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my mouth with every word. “Remember that?”
“I never said he wasn’t fine. Just not your type.”
I paused for a moment, glaring at her, then walked off to the bedroom so I could doze back to sleep for a while. Our conversation was pointless. Damon and I would not, could not, get together, so there was no need to discuss whether he was my “type” or not.
Sleep didn’t come easily for me again. I was thinking about Damon, wondering what he was doing; how he was doing. We had spoken only briefly since that night at the hotel in Annapolis. Both of us were obviously uneasy about the implications of what could have happened had we not maintained control.
I heard Destiny leave for work about an hour later, turned my iPod on low, and eventually dozed back off.
• • •
“How’d you get in here?” I asked Damon as I sat up on the bed. His footsteps coming down the hallway had awakened me. “What’s going on?”
He smiled at me with that incredible smile and moved closer to the bed. “Destiny let me in.”
“I thought she’d left already.”
Maxwell’s “This Woman’s Work” was playing on my iPod. That didn’t help matters any; the song instantly put me in the mood to be touched.
“She came back. She forgot something.”
Damon sat down on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through my toussled hair. “You look so beautiful when you first wake up. When you’re sleep
ing, too. I noticed that at the Sheraton that night.”
I tried to hold back a blush, but failed. “Thank you.” His eyes penetrated mine and then lowered to my breasts, which were covered only with a sports bra. I cleared my throat. “You never answered me. What are you doing here, Damon?”
“I had to see you.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, then whispered in my right ear, “I’ve missed you so much, Brooke.”
His fingertips started caressing my neck as he placed butterfly kisses on my earlobe. Then he moved over to my chin and kissed me there.
“Ummm,” I heard myself moaning, my panties getting instantly wet. I had forgotten that I was nearly nude under the comforter and sheets. “Don’t stop.”
Damon kissed my cheeks and made his way to my lips. We shared a tender, loving kiss for the first time. His tongue was long and thick; juicy.
Our kiss lingered for several moments and I never wanted it to end. When it did, I immediately felt guilty and reared back slightly on the bed, pressing my back and ass against the pillows.
“We shouldn’t have done that, Damon.”
“Did you want to do it?”
“That’s not the point. You’re married to Carleigh.”
Damon ignored what I said and started rubbing my left nipple through my bra. Both of them were already hard enough to cut Sheetrock; the kiss had damn near set me on fire.
“I want to be with you, Brooke.”
“But we can’t,” I said in protest. “I can’t have an affair with you.”
“I’ll leave her. Right now, today.”
I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer, so I pulled him to me and buried my tongue in his mouth again. He lifted up my sports bra, baring my breasts, and feeling all over my nipples—my Sheetrock cutters.
Damon started sucking on them and I moaned in ecstasy. He threw the covers back off me and onto the floor and reached his fingers inside my panties. He started fingering me.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
I wiggled on the bed, trying to contain myself and not believing it was really happening.