Player Haters (24 page)

“Well, I don’t want you. Not if you’re married. Not if you’re his wife instead of mine. What are you doing back here anyway, Anita?”

“I hated Florida. I hate him. I needed to get back to you. I love you, Dante. Please, baby, let me show you how much I love you,” she pleaded.

Dante didn’t say a word. He just silently watched Anita unbutton her dress until she was no longer wearing a conservative church dress. But she was still wearing all white—a white push-up bra, white panties, white garter belt with white stockings and of course, those sexy white stiletto heels. The contrast against her mahogany skin was stunning.

“Please, baby. Let me show you how much I love you.” Anita rubbed her hands on his chest again then kissed him gently before she started to slowly kneel. Dante knew what she was about to do and was virtually powerless to stop her. Oral sex was his weakness and Anita was an expert.

“I can’t do this, Anita,” he whispered repeatedly, but that didn’t stop her. Finally he just decided to give in. When it came to Anita, Dante’s big head went on autopilot and his little head took over. He placed his hand gently on her hair and stared blankly at the wall as he waited eagerly for the pleasure she would soon give him. Anita licked her lips as she stared at his pulsating manhood and prepared to swallow it whole. Unfortunately, that would not happen today because Dante spotted the picture of Jesus hanging on the wall. Anita may have been the master of his penis, but she was not the master of his conscience or faith, neither of which would allow him to commit adultery.

“Oh, dear Lord, forgive me,” he said, his eyes focused. He jerked her head up. “I can’t do this. This is wrong. You’re married.”

Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door and a jiggling of the doorknob.

“Dante, are you in here, son?” his mother called through the door.

Dante instinctively answered, “Yes,” as both he and Anita stared at each other with panicked looks on their faces. They knew if they didn’t open that door quickly his mother, a suspicious woman by nature, would put two and two together the second she saw Anita in his office. And Lord help them both if his mother had Deaconess Wright with her as he suspected. Anita reached down and picked up her dress then turned back to Dante, hoping to get some direction.

“Hide?” Dante was as panic stricken as Anita.

Anita glared at him. “Where?”

Dante’s eyes searched the room for a hiding place. He jumped when his mother knocked on the door again. He pointed toward his desk.

“Dante, open this door,” his mother said sternly.

“Under my desk,” he whispered to Anita. She scrambled over there as he approached the door. He waited till she was out of sight then opened the door. His mother and his father, Bishop T.K. Wilson, greeted him.

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, Ma,” he replied, opening his arms to give his mother a hug. In his mind, he was cursing the woman in the black Continental. Damn, that bitch Deaconess Wright lied on me again.

His mother sniffed him as she kissed his cheek then smiled with satisfaction. If he knew his mother, she’d been defending him tooth and nail and now felt vindicated in her actions. “Why was this door locked?”

“Huh? Oh, uh,” Dante searched his mind for an excuse as his mother stared into his eyes. “Because I was changing my clothes and I didn’t want any of the women’s choir walking in and seeing my private parts. I just came from the gym and wanted to get out of those sweaty clothes.” He casually turned his back and zipped up his pants as his mother walked by. She was surveying his office, as if she knew he was lying.

“Hey, Bishop.” Dante offered his father his hand, still keeping his eyes on his mother and his desk. “So what brings you two down here?” His mother’s suspicious look instantly became a jubilated smile, and she spoke before her husband had a chance to get out a word.

“Oh, Dante. We have the best news. Come sit down so we can tell you.” Dante moved over to his desk quickly and sat down. His father had a habit of sitting at his desk and that wasn’t something he could risk right now. As his parents sat down on the other side, Dante glanced under his desk. Anita, still half-naked, smiled at him. Dante pushed his chair back about a foot when she stroked the inside of his leg. He knew Anita too well. She was a freak and he wouldn’t put it past her to try something crazy like pulling out his manhood to finish what she’d tried to start earlier.

“So, what’s this great news?” Dante asked, slapping Anita’s hand as she tried to unzip his pants.

“Well, Dante.” His mother turned to his father with a huge smile. She looked like she was gonna bust a gasket she was so excited. “I’m gonna let the Bishop tell you.”

Dante turned his attention to his father, who leaned forward with a paternal smile. “Well, son. Your mother and I just found out you’ve been accepted into Howard University’s seminary school.”

“I have?” Dante looked from one parent to the other then back again.

“Dante, I’m so proud of you.” His mother had tears in her eyes.

“But, but I never applied to Howard’s seminary school,” Dante stuttered.

“I know. I applied for you,” his smiling mother replied. “I bet you didn’t even think you’d get in.” She was so clearly pleased with herself and expected the same from him.

“Congratulations, son.” His father nodded as he stood up. “Howard seminary is a fine school.”

“Thanks, Bishop,” Dante replied without thinking.

“Come on, Lydia. We’re supposed to be over at the borough president’s office in twenty minutes.”

Dante’s mother stood up and leaned over his desk. She kissed him. “Dante, I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait till your first sermon.”

“Neither can I, Mom,” he answered weakly.

Dante watched the Bishop and his mother walk toward the door and suddenly he had unresolved courage. He had to tell them. He had to tell them he didn’t want to go to Howard’s seminary. He didn’t wanna go to anyone’s seminary. And he had to tell them before they started to blab their news to everyone in the church, because then he would be painted into a corner.

“Ma,” he called, standing up quickly. Just as the words left his mouth he realized he had to sit down because his fly was unzipped and there was a hand attached to his private parts.

“Yes?” his mother replied as she turned around. He sat down just in the nick of time.

“Nothin’. Just wanted to say thanks.”

The following is a sample chapter from
Carl Weber’s eagerly anticipated upcoming novel
SO YOU CALL YOURSELF A MAN.

This book will be available in January 2006
wherever hardcover books are sold.

ENJOY!

Call me kinky, but there is nothing in the world that turns me on more than hearing a woman scream pleasurable obscenities as I make love to her. And that’s exactly what my lovely wife, Kathy, was doing as I held onto her hips and made love to her from behind for the second time tonight. Our two boys, James Jr. and Michael, were with my mother-in-law for the weekend while Kathy and I were taking advantage of their absence by spending some quality time together. We’d gone out to dinner, taken in a movie, then come home and finished off a bottle of wine before making love on the living room carpet. We were now on our second round in our bedroom, going at it like two lusty college students in heat.

“I love you, James,” my wife moaned affectionately, clutching the sheets just as an orgasm overtook her body.

“I love you too,” I growled back as my body stiffened and my own pleasure erupted.

Totally spent, Kathy lay flat on her stomach while I gently collapsed onto her back, gasping for air. After a brief recovery, I slid my sweat-soaked body off of hers. She snuggled up next to me and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in close, her back to my front. I was so exhausted I wanted to just close my eyes and let the sedative of sex take me to dreamland, but I couldn’t do that because it was against the rules we’d created almost a year and a half ago to keep our marriage together. Somehow, I was going to have to force myself to stay awake at least ten more minutes and talk to her before allowing myself the enjoyment of sleep. I kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, “You okay? Do you want me to go down on you or anything?”

“No, baby. I’m fine just like this. All I want you to do is hold me.” I did as I was told and she snuggled her backside against me. A few seconds later I could hear her snoring lightly.

I loved Kathy more than anything in the world. Sure, we had our problems like most couples. Hell, I even thought we were gonna break up a few years ago, but we worked it out and now things had never been better as far as I was concerned. I’d loved her since the day we met in our junior year at Virginia State University. She was my soul mate, and I’d do anything and everything to keep her and my boys safe and protected. I kissed her neck again then dozed off to sleep.

I couldn’t have been asleep more than five minutes when the phone rang. Instinctively, I reached over and picked it up from my night table, glancing at the caller ID before hitting the talk button. The screen read Private Number, and my eyes wandered to the clock radio on my night table.
One twenty-one
A.M
. Who the hell is calling me at this time of night?
Then it hit me. There was only one person who would call me at this time from a private number—my fraternity brother, Sonny. He lived in L.A. and was flying in sometime tomorrow. I was supposed to pick him up at the airport, so he was probably calling to let me know what time his flight would arrive. Sonny always had a beer or two after dinner, so knowing him, he’d probably just forgotten about the time difference.

“Hello?”

“James?” It wasn’t Sonny as expected. It was a woman, a familiar voice, but in my tired state I just couldn’t make out the voice. “James?” the woman asked again.

“Yeah, who is this?”

“It’s…it’s Michelle.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and every muscle in my body tightened. I could feel Kathy start to stir next to me and fear ran through my body. I immediately cupped the phone and rolled over on my right side, away from my wife.

I’d met Michelle about two years ago during the time Kathy and I were having problems and contemplating divorce. She was living with her mother and their house was a daily stop on my UPS route. Her mother was addicted to the Home Shopping Network and was constantly ordering nonsense she didn’t need. Looking back at things, I wished I had never met Michelle, but in all honesty, she was exactly what I needed to realize that what I had at home was worth fighting for.

In the beginning, I never even thought about having sex with Michelle. She was just the girl in a beat-up housecoat who answered the door when I dropped off her mother’s packages. But as time went on, her appearance started to change. At first it was subtle; the scarf she usually wore to cover up her rollers disappeared and her hair was now combed every day. Then one morning she started wearing makeup. I knew something was definitely up when she stopped wearing the beat-up housecoat and started to answer the door wearing silk pajamas or a negligée. Being a harmless yet flirtatious guy, I gave her a few compliments on her improved appearance. Yeah, I know I was a married man, and even though things with my wife were rocky, I really didn’t think anything would start with Michelle. I was just seeking some attention. That changed, though, when she was more than a little receptive to my flirtation. We started flirting back and forth over the next couple of weeks. I don’t have to tell you what happened after that. Let’s just say it happened every day for six months, even when I didn’t have any packages to deliver to her house.

“I thought I told you not to call me on this phone.” I was whispering but my voice was cold and serious.

“I know, but I’ve been calling your cell since five o’clock and it just keeps sending me to your voice mail.”

“That’s because I’m busy.” I glanced at Kathy to see if I was talking too loud. She seemed to still be asleep.

“You don’t have to get nasty, James. What is wrong with you? Is your wife right next to you?”

“Yes. Now look, it’s late. Don’t call me anymore, okay?”

“No!” she shouted. “We need to talk now. I really don’t care if you wife is there or not. I need to talk to you.”

I didn’t like her attitude and was thinking about hanging up. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that she could call back. One call at 1:30 in the morning Kathy might ignore or sleep through, but a second call would have her radar up like she was NASA waiting for the space shuttle to land. “Look, I don’t have time for this.”

“Well, make time. Unless you want me to show up at your doorstep with your son.”

I swear I could feel my heart stop. “Hold on a sec.” I cupped my hand over the phone then swung my feet off the bed to sit up. Kathy turned toward me.

“Baby, who’s that on the phone?” She was still half asleep.

I turned toward her and forced a smile. “Oh, it’s just Sonny. I’ve gotta write down his flight information. I’ll be right back.”

“Aw’ight. Tell ’im I said hi.” She rolled back over, pulling the covers around her neck. I left the room, heading downstairs as quickly as possible. When I reached the family room, I turned on the television for background noise and brought the phone to my ear.

“What the hell is this about, Michelle? You told me the baby wasn’t mine.” Now that I was not within earshot of Kathy, I had a real attitude.

“I know that, James, but I was wrong.” There was a strange tone to her voice, not the attitude I expected. It was more like exhaustion. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought she didn’t want to be having this conversation with me. But I did know better, and I was sure Michelle was up to something.

“What do you mean you was wrong? Why you trying to play me, Michelle? You know that baby ain’t mine. He looks just like your boyfriend. He don’t look nothin’ like me.”

“Ain’t nobody trying to play you, James.” The attitude had crept back into her voice. “I just want you to take care of your responsibility. I can’t do this by myself.”

“What responsibility? That baby ain’t mine. I saw you and his daddy pushing a stroller down the street just the other day. You looked like one big happy family. Why you trying to put this on me now? I ain’t rich. I ain’t got no money. Damn.”

“You think I want this? I wouldn’t even be talking to you if Trent hadn’t failed a paternity test. The baby’s not his, James. DNA tests don’t lie.”

There was silence on my end. I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to ask, “Well, whose baby is it?” but common sense told me that wasn’t a good idea, especially since she had my cell number, my home number, and my address. If she wanted to, she could make my life a living hell.

As if she was reading my mind she said, “You’re the only other one I was sleeping with, James, so don’t come out your face with any stupidness.”

God, I wish I had never met her.

“What do you want from me, Michelle?”

“I think we should sit down tomorrow and talk. All I want you to do is take care of your son, James. I don’t want anything else.”

“I can’t do it tomorrow, Michelle. It’ll have to be Sunday.”

“Sunday it is. Call me after church with the time. But don’t make me call you, James, ’cause I ain’t calling your cell phone anymore. I’m calling your house.”

“Aw’ight. I’ll call you.” I clicked off the phone then walked up the stairs as if I was in a trance. How the hell was I gonna tell Kathy that I had another son?