“You sure? Nothing has changed between us?” I asked. More from curiosity than insecurity.
He pulled me back and looked at my face with a confused expression.
“Hell nah, nothing has changed.” He answered quickly. I kissed him briefly.
“I love you too, husband,” I smiled.
Our sexual experiences were cool, but this? This is where I wanted to be.
Quentin
9 months later
“Good morning, Dr. Long, will you be having your usual today?” The barista at Cold Brew asked with a polite smile as I walked up to the register.
“Yes, thank you,” I said, getting out my card and preparing to swipe it to pay for my items. Just as I did, the bathroom door opened and out walked Breeze Thompson. I chuckled. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in months. Communication ended once she left the beach house. My eyes scanned her body. She was dressed for work, wearing a shirt with their logo tucked neatly into some denim jeans, and sneakers. Even dressed down, she was still pretty as fuck.
She had been focusing on the ground when she looked up; she froze for a second, then broke eye contact just as quickly.
I would be a liar if I said that I didn’t think about the night that we spent together. Breeze is walking around with the type of shit that niggas crash out about. But we both knew what it was.
As we waited, I approached her. At first, I just stared down at her and watched her reaction. Her chest rose and fell quickly. I could see her getting flustered. She folded her arms and glared at me.
She spoke in a hushed tone so none of the people in the lounge could hear her, “If you’re going to stare at me, Quentin, at least speak.” She rolled her eyes.
“Who you got an attitude with, Breeze?” I asked her. Her breathing became shallower, and I can’t say that I didn’t like the reaction I was getting from her. It was almost like she might want to act like I didn’t exist, but her body remembered me all too well.
“Cute, move out my way,” she said as she tried to sidestep me. I stepped in front of her and continued to stare at her.
“How you been?” I asked her.
“Perfect until today,” She admitted. I chuckled.
“You miss us?” I nodded toward my dick, and her mouth fell open in shock. I reached up and closed it for her.
“This is how you behave in your work clothes?” She swatted my hand.
I disregarded her question, “I missed y’all.” I stated matter-of-factly. She chuckled and shook her head, and then rounded me and went to the counter to pick up her order. I let her bypass me this time. Breeze was a good girl. I respected that she was married and faithful to her husband, which is why I never hit her up or tried to start any conversation with her during this time. But there was no way that I was about to let her fine ass be this close to me and not say anything to her. Having her just feet away from me again gave me an instant flashback of her being bent over on the patio, ass spread and riding my face. It awakened the menace in me. I’m a therapist, but I ain’t perfect, shit.
I grabbed my drink and breakfast, got into my truck, and headed toward the office. My reminder said that my first client of the day was scheduled in an hour, so I had enough time to eat and get settled.
Walking through the doors, I scanned the lobby. It was one of the slower weeks, and for that I was grateful because last week took me through hell. I have a couple that I did premarital counseling for who have come back. An athlete. He had a baby on his wife, she left him, and he wanted to reconcile. At the first session, she sat quietly and refused to answer any of my questions. When I asked her why, she said, “My prenup says I have to show up for mediation, not engage.” It was one of the craziest things I had witnessed, but it seemed like the week only went from bad to worse. There was a different couple where the woman invited her husband’s mistress to a session, and they started fighting in my office.
“Good morning,” I said to Shareese as I passed by her desk.
“Mmhmm,” She sighed, making me laugh. I pushed open the hallway door, walked to my office, and unlocked my door.
I sat at my desk, scrolled through some emails, and ate my breakfast, ready to wrap up today and start the weekend. I lost track of time, but the timer going off reminded me that my first session was set to start in 5 minutes.
I wrapped up the exercise email to my clients as fast as I could and prepared for my first session of the morning.
Shareese sent me a Teams message.
S. Williams: Are you ready?
Me: Yes
Discarding my trash and sweeping away the crumbs on my desk, I walked around it and sat on the sofa with my pad and pen. The door opened, and in walked Breeze and her husband.
