"For women, the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time."
― Isabel Allende, Of Love and Shadows
I was angry, but I didn't let it show. I became passive-aggressive, and it was apparent. I had two days off. I had planned it that way, thinking that we were going somewhere or going to do something fun and that I would be overcome with exhaustion for two days. Didn't happen. We spent our fucking anniversary at my partner's house.
Mike dared to ask me for the fourth time in a thirty minute period the same damn question, "What is your problem, Chonne?"
"No problem." I brushed past him. I was dressed in a pair of designer jeans, a white blouse with no bra, and my very favorite pair of fancy stilettos. I didn't own cowboy boots, and I wasn't about to go out and buy a pair. There were going to be no repeat of this adventure. I have a secret fantasy about a cowboy, but nowhere in it am I a cowgirl. I'm a God Damn sexy Bitch who was ready to drop it like it's hot to some Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson. Maybe Dixie Chicks? The hell if I know. What I did know it wasn't going to be added to my playlist.
Rick and I have a playlist. It's on our phones. At first, our musical taste didn't mesh. He, of course, liked country and I like classical when I was with my sophisticated associates, but on the down low, I love Tupac and Kendrick Lamar. I was surprised that Rick had a few rap songs, but I wasn't surprised by the likes of Fresh Prince, Parent's just don't understand, Busta Rhymes and Heavy D with Janet Jackson. We argued for hours about what was considered rap and what was considered Poetic Genius. He mentioned Eminem, and I got out of the fucking cruiser. We took down two guys that had a small operation in a small RV, Spencer and some young kid named Zach. Music was playing. I had to know.
"What's what?" Spencer was confused lying face down on the ground.
"The music. What artist is that?"
Rick still had his gun drawn on the two as I put the handcuffs on them.
"SYML. The one on now is Until the Ribbon Breaks. The song is Persia."
"What do you think?" I asked Rick.
"Write it down, Mich. You are going to ask me an hour from now, and the only thing I'm going to remember is the beat."
Yep, we haphazardly created a Rick and Mich playlist.
I was in the Honky Tonk Bar and Inn parking lot.
Mich: Are you coming or not?
Rick: You just sprung this on me last minute.
Mich: Is that a yes or a no?
Rick: I didn't expect this to go this way.
Mich: Type it out.
Rick: What?
Mich: Cant say spit it out. Type it out. What's the issue?
Rick: I'm nervous. Aren't you?
Mich: I want to dance. I want to have a good time. I want some alcohol and maybe something to eat. That is what I want. I didn't get that on my anniversary, and I am not counting the shit at your house. That shit doesn't count.
Rick:...
Mich: I'm sorry. I'm pissed off, and I'm hurt. I am sorry.
Rick: We would have found a place in Montana for dancing.
Mich: What place is that?
Rick: You are the Co-pilot. You know how to work Google and Google Maps.
Mich: I would have to read the reviews.
Rick: I know. You are always reading them to me in the squad car.
Mich: You ask me too. Are you coming or not?
Rick: ...
Mich: What are you anxious about?
Rick: Looking guilty.
Mich: What crime have you committed?
Rick: I feel guilty.
Mich: Still not a crime.
Rick: Infidelity.
Mich: Who's locking people up for that?
Rick: We need to stop and think. Are you thinking?
Mich: You are putting this on me?
Rick: My loyalty is questionable.
Mich: I can always count on you.
Rick: I make sure of that, and it's not right
Mich: I can go on my own
Rick: Then I won't ever know
Mich: You know practically everything.
Rick: What I want to know, I don't think boundaries are going to work.
Mich: I'm tired.
Rick: We NEED to set boundaries.
I'm sitting in my car feeling like a fool. I wanted to throw my phone. I wanted to scream. Here I was, a town over from Kings County, begging for my partner to be with me. That is what it felt like. I was done. He was doing entirely too much texting to actually be on his way. I realized I had gotten dressed for nothing again. I was breaking down, and I have never felt so alone in my life. My heart was broken, and the pain cuts deep. Past hurts began to take over my mind. I had a lot of unresolved issues when it came to Mike cheating on me.
I began to wonder if Mike would have had any problems calling up his intern to meet him at the drop of a hat? If I were the intern would Mike have remembered our anniversary?
I want to be desired and placed first come hell or high water blind by the love that grew from lust. I want someone to lust after me. I want someone to want me.
My phone began to ring, and I pressed ok without thinking. I didn't say a word. I knew who it was that was calling as it was our routine to text and then call when texting got too much to do for whatever reason.
"Mich?"
I couldn't speak. I was breaking down into a sobbing mess of tears.
"Mich?"
I put my car in reverse.
"What are you doing Mich?"
I had made up my mind to leave. Peace out.
"Where are you going, Mich?"
"Home."
"You've got me all the way out here to change your mind?"
Rick was coming up to my car as I was pulling out. We locked eyes.
"Park your car, Michonne." He disconnected the call.
I drove back to my original spot. He was pulling at my door handle before I could unlock the door. He held my door open for me to step out. Rick could see that I was crying.
"I don't know how you will feel about me using my shirt sleeve, but if you have a tissue, I would like to have one Michonne."
"I don't know how I would feel about you trying to wipe my tears on your shirt sleeve but here is a Kleenex."
"Who says I'm wiping your tears? I need to blow my nose."
He wore that silly grin that had a way to make me smile right back at him.
He dabbed at my eyes. My back was against my closed driver's door. He was dressed like a cowboy. The blue shirt, jeans, and brown cowboy boots suited him well along with the stubble that was growing on his face and the large brown hat he had taken off of his head upon his original approach.
"I'm not trying to disappoint you too."
"I thought I could count on you."
"And you can. I'm here."
"Why didn't you just tell me that?"
"I'm nervous, Michonne. Doesn't mean I don't want to be with you."
"If you are having second thoughts I can go -."
"Michonne, I want to do this. I'm not saying, no."
"You don't sound like you are saying, yes."
"You and I are going to need boundaries. We need rules. I have never done this before, and I want to make sure you and I are on the same page."
"Okay."
"Okay, what? Tell me what you want, Mich?"
"I want to have a good time tonight."
My response was the truth. I wanted to feel good. I needed that feeling more than ever. Tonight. That night.
OH. MY. GOD!
This man has ruined me. This man has caused me to rethink my whole damn life. It can't happen again. It cannot happen again. No. Sir. The next day, I was a paranoid mess. I have never in my life had an out of body experience. My mind was still at the Honky Tonk Bar, and my body was still at the Inn.
If he were my husband...
He paid cash for the room. He took my hand, and I followed him to room 209. There wasn't any small talk or hesitation. He had my back up against the wall. My wrists were held over my head by his one hand and the other he used to unbutton my blouse. I thought I would hyperventilate. I was nervous and incredibly aroused. His face was-so close to mine. I thought he was going to kiss me and for a long time, he didn't. My blouse hung open after he pulled it up and out of my jeans.
That one hand caused me to whimper once it went inside shadowing through the thin material to touch my skin from my waist to my breast where his thumb lay planted on my nipple. My nipple reacted immediately to the increase in pressure, release. His mouth continued to hover close to mine. I wanted to kiss, but he remained out of reach with me pinned to the wall. He ran his lips along my neck to my ear, the heat from his mouth caused my breathing to become shallow.
"What song is playing in your head. Share it with me." I softly murmured.
He whispered the lyrics to a song we stumbled on before the kiss on the couch. He had played it for me in the cruiser that day, and I had long ago added it to my playlist.
It's still a whisper through a megaphone
It's not your volume, it's your tone
Those brown eyes are good enough to pick out in winter time
(That line was not the lyrics, but I didn't say anything. I was allowing him, his voice, the warmth of his breath on my earlobe continue to soak my panties)
So did I say too much, if that's my crime?
I will zip shut my mouth, won't forget about you
Just one more whisper, to see me through
Lets hush, hush, hush
So Persia if you like me, then what's the fuss?
Oh Persia, Persia
If I can't be your prince
Then I whisper, I'd like to leave you in my fingerprints
Persia, Persia
I might not be the one
I still whisper until you tell me that we're done
"If I were just any man, this would be sex. The kind of sex that I would give to you but you have chosen me to be your husband, and it changes things. I'm going to show you, Michonne. As your husband."
I was breathless and dizzy and still ready to hyperventilate.
"As my husband what should I expect?"
"As your husband, I am going to make love to you."
"But you are not my husband."
"If I were this is what it would feel like."
Rick kissed me, and I felt like I had never been kissed and have my heart and soul taken from me. I realized that I have never been touched, caressed, stripped naked and bare by a man the way he did as my husband.
-
The honky-tonk weighed heavily on my mind the next day. I had a day and a half to recover. I needed to get my mind right. I was sitting at the foot of my bed at home when Mike walked in with a gift and the look that he realized his error.
I took off my headphones when I realized words were coming out of Mike's mouth that I could not hear. I had my bathrobe on. I had just showered for the third time trying to get Grimes off of me, but he still plagued my thoughts, listening to Persia, maybe I was trying to keep him there.
"I have a lot going on, Chonne. I'm sorry. I want to make this up to you."
He was on both his knees looking like a man that wanted to be out of the doghouse. Mike knows I am a sucker for two things, one being gifts. I love gag gifts the most, but it is a side of me my husband doesn't know or would understand.
It was a beautiful tennis bracelet.
The second thing is having my Big Kat licked. I instantly tensed up when things began to lead there quickly and without real warning. Any other time I would have been able to lay back and spread them wide, this time I realized I didn't have a Big Kat, or Fat Kat ready and waiting for a man that was my Real husband. I had Kat crumbs. If he were an astute Kat connoisseur he would have realized he was licking and lapping and empty plate if it weren't for Kat particle dust. My pussy was destroyed and devoured by my pretend husband. I couldn't even produce my one woman marching band. Before I knew it we were arguing as I got up and got dressed.
"Since when you start listening to this type of music?" Mike asked me. I was trying to drown him out with Two Feet, Your Mother was Cheaper.
We were or I was escalating out of control and I had to get out. My excuse was that he still forgot our Anniversary. Nothing he could do could make that shit right with me.
"I'm trying, Chonne. If you need space or time, I suggest you go and find some because this is bullshit!"
I had slammed the door behind me.
I drove. I had called Rick three times and got his voice mail.
Mich: Call me.
I got no response. No call back nor text. I called his home. Carl answered.
"Hi, Mich!"
"Hi, yourself."
"I got a B on my math test. It would have been an A if my Dad would have remembered exactly what you said to tell me."
"I should have wrote it down. He said he had it."
"I'm happy about the B. Mom's happy about it too. Not so much when my Dad talks about you all the time."
"What?"
"Doesn't mean my Mom hates you. My Dad really admires you. He told me and Mom. I happen to think you are really cool."
I was struck mute for a second.
"If you are looking for my Dad he's not here. He and my Mom kind of got into argument over money."
"Sorry to hear that, Carl."
"Dad took off. He was dressed in a suit. I asked him if he was going to a funeral."
"What did he say?"
"Yes."
