Other People's Business. Pamela Yaye

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СКАЧАТЬ find it hard to believe that a woman of your beauty isn’t getting any,” he admitted, tossing back his beer. He finished the bottle, and then rolled his tongue over his lips. He examined the dewy-eyed woman sitting across from him, undressing her in his mind. Sure she looked sweet and wholesome, but her curvy figure and sexy smile told another story. Celibate? Impossible. Sexually frustrated? Definitely. All Autumn needed was a man to show her the ropes. Teach her how sex was supposed to be. Tyrell was more than willing to add another student to his class. But first, there was something he needed to know. “You’re not one of those church girls who thinks sex is revolting or immoral, are you?”

      “Of course not!” Autumn answered, the heat rising steadily up the back of her neck. She usually saved this conversation for the third or fourth date, but when Tyrell had suggested they go back to his place to “get to know each other better,” Autumn had determined that was as good a time as any. “I’m not scared of sex and I’m not ashamed of my body. I’m just not ready for the emotional baggage that sex creates, so I have committed to put my future happiness and emotional well-being ahead of the fleeting needs of my body. The next man I make love to will be my husband, and if you can’t respect that, I need to know now.”

      Tyrell didn’t even blink. “Believe you me, I can handle it.” His probing eyes held hers and in a sickly sweet voice he gushed, “I’m interested in getting to know the real you, Autumn. That’s it. Sleeping with you is the furthest thing from my mind.”

      But in the last three months, it had been the only thing on his mind. In recent weeks, Tyrell had become more agitated about her unwillingness to “put out.” He’d found ways to work sex into every conversation they had and had even gone as far as sending Autumn long, pitiful e-mails on the subject. After weeks of his incessant badgering and “Baby, baby, please,” she’d caved in. Tonight was supposed to be the night. Autumn had sauvignon blanc chilling on ice, Teddy Pendergrass waiting to lend his voice to the occasion and white rose petals sprawled across her candle-laden bedroom.

      Autumn sighed deeply. Tyrell had turned out to be just like all the other guys. He was caught up in the game. The pursuit. The challenge. He was spirited and competitive, and luring her into his bed was just another one of his conquests. Tyrell thought that once he finagled his way into her heart, she would be putty in his hands. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

      Autumn polished off her cocktail. When a lanky, wide-faced server offered her another glass, she politely declined. “Tyrell always had an answer. He—” Autumn searched for the right words. When none came, she paused a moment longer. “I believed Tyrell when he told me I was the only woman in his life. He took me to nice places, treated me like a lady and he is from the wealthiest African-American family in D.C. The fact that my mother adored him made it easy for me to overlook some of his questionable behavior.” Autumn ran a shaky hand through her hair. She was already dreading her face-off with Evelyn. Her mother was enamored with the Wellmans and had been overjoyed when she had discovered her daughter was dating one. A shiver whizzed up Autumn’s spine. She could only imagine what Evelyn would do when she returned home and learned the truth.

      “I can understand that,” Yvette conceded, “but if that’s all you want—someone to take you to nice places and foot the bill—then stay with him. But if you want a lasting relationship with a man who’s going to be there every step of the way, quit wasting your time with Tyrell.”

      “For months now, I’ve been the one fighting for this relationship. I did the calling, I planned the dates and I was the one making sacrifices so we could spend time together. And for what? So Tyrell could bail on me when I need him the most? He’s not the right man for me and I can see that now.” When Yvette raised her eyebrows and crinkled her nose, Autumn insisted, “I’m serious this time. It’s over.”

      “We’ll see,” Yvette said distrustfully, “because Lord knows I’ve heard that one before.”

      The chalk-white tent, outfitted with drapery, opulent ceiling fans and shiny brass chandeliers, lent an air of glamour to the event. Twenty round tables, each seating ten, were dressed in white tablecloths, gold napkins and heart-shape flower arrangements. Three sphere-shape gold candles sat on flat mirrors on each table, reflecting light throughout the tent.

      Peeking through the curtain, Autumn couldn’t help thinking the evening looked more like a wedding reception than a dinner party for the engaged couple. Well-dressed guests seated on lawn chairs were listening to the colorful banter of Edgar Grisbey, awaiting the arrival of the bridal party.

      Autumn turned back around and checked her impulse to laugh. Mrs. Grisbey was fussing all over her adult daughter as if it was her first day of preschool and Melissa was eating it up.

      “Your father is going to conclude his address by thanking everyone for coming and then he’ll introduce the bridal party.” Mrs. Grisbey adjusted the ultra-thin straps of her daughter’s topaz chiffon dress. “Walk in with your head high, your back slightly curved and don’t forget to smile at the photographers. Now, where is everyone?”

      Melissa fluffed her hair. “The girls went to freshen up and the guys ducked into the game room. But Peter promised they would be right back.” Right on cue, Melissa’s fiancé, Peter, and a half dozen men of varying shades and heights emerged from the rear patio door.

      “I’m going to give them some final instructions.” Mrs. Grisbey rushed over to the all-male group.

      Shante, Melissa’s cousin and a bridesmaid, pointed a lengthy, acrylic nail straight ahead. “Now here comes a piece of chocolate I wouldn’t mind tasting. Hot damn! That brother has the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen,” she finished, low murmuring sounds further emphasizing her point. Then, she turned to her cousin. “Who is that and why haven’t I been introduced?”

      Melissa stared at the posse of black men that had encircled her mother. “You need to be more specific, Shante. There are a dozen pieces of ‘chocolate’ over there,” she joked, laughing lightly.

      “The bald hottie in the tan suit.” She added with a toothy grin, “The one with all those muscles, the wide strapping shoulders and the tight, brick-hard butt.”

      Autumn tried not to gape. Not only was the hunky stranger a walking billboard for GQ but he also had a smile that could melt the wax off a slow-burning candle in the blink of an eye. Mr. Tan Suit can light my fire any day of the week! Autumn felt her face warm. It was bad enough she was openly lusting, she didn’t want to add swooning to the equation, too, so she forced her eyes to look away.

      Yvette whistled. “Now, that’s what I call fine. Long limbs, heavy lips and a body so hot it could thaw a block of butter. Yum-m-y.”

      Autumn chuckled. Sometimes Yvette was just too much. She kept her voice natural and her facial expression non-chlant when she asked Melissa who the stranger was. “Is he one of Peter’s co-workers? A family friend? A distant relative or something?”

      A self-righteous smile curved Melissa’s lips. Autumn was trying to appear uninterested, but desire shone clear in her eyes. Melissa turned from her cousin to her best friend. “Remember last week when you said no to a blind date with the best man?”

      “Yeah…” Autumn murmured.

      “That’s him. Peter’s best man, Larry,” Melissa explained slyly.

      “Larry?” Autumn and Yvette bellowed in unison.

      “That’s the guy you were trying to hook Autumn up with?” Yvette asked dubiously. “The country bamma from Mississippi?”

      Melissa СКАЧАТЬ