Sleeping With My Married Ex

Chapter 9

There's a knock on my office door. I lift my head up and compose myself before saying 'come in'. Little Miss Nurse, whose name I learned is Amber, walks into my office with a lunch bag in her hand. Oh yeah! I completely forgot about me telling her I would help her with Warren. My mind has been so wrapped around Donovan I'm loosing track of my own life.

After we saw the witch sucking face with some other guy and I pulled him back onto the elevator, I took him down to the sky deck where we sat silently. I wasn't sure what to say to him in that situation. Honestly, I don't think I would have said anything even if I knew what to say. Is that selfish of me?

Donovan didn't go home that night. He sent me up alone and that was the last I've seen him for three days. I don't think he's returned since. Maybe he has.

Amber sits in the chair opposite me and I smile, glad for the distraction, glad for the toss back into my own life. I need to talk to Warren. I haven't spent much time with him lately. He may have some weird notion of me in his head lately, but he's still my best friend. Amber speaks, I reply. I clear my desk and lean back in my chair. "Let's get to business." She eyes me wearily, but that's okay. I have what she wants.

Our lunch is almost like an interview. I question her. No. I grill her. Hard. Warren is my best friend after all. I have to make sure Amber isn't some crazy psycho chick with loose morals who creeps around. CoughTaracough.
"This is what you do. Ignore him."
She opens her mouth to speak but I hold up my hand to cut her off. "Hear me out. Warren is very cerebral. He analyzes everything."
"Yeah. No shit," Amber says, but not rudely. She was agreeing with me. Her way of saying that Warren analyzes too much.
"I'm not saying completely ignore him. Just...down tone it. A lot. Instead of throwing yourself at his feet," I hold my hand up again when she tries to interrupt, "Instead of throwing yourself at his feet, just play it cool. A simple mindless greeting, as if you're too busy to pay him much attention, once a day. Then, go about your business. Don't scare off the other girls either. Let them chase after him. It's better if they do."
"How is it better if they do."
"Because," I say on a sigh, "you already have Warren's attention. Maybe not the way you like it but you have it. And Warren is very much aware that he's the center of your eye. Now if those other chicks start kissing his feet when you no longer appear interest, Warren's going to wonder why. The constantly analyzing part of him will kick in and try to figure out what has changed." I giggle. "Of course he'll hate himself for thinking about you, but he'll be thinking about you nonetheless. And before you know it, he'll come to you to figure out what he's done wrong."
Amber sits the sandwich she was eating down. "This won't work."
"It will. Trust me."
"It won't."
I shake my head in disagreement. "It will. I use this method on him whenever I want things to go my way. So does his sister. I'm not sure if it works with guys, but where females are concerned, it works. Two weeks. Give it two weeks and if it doesn't work, you can go back to being a bottom feeder."
The rest of our hour lunch break passes with Amber telling me about where she grew up and with me telling her about all the stuff Warren and I got into back in undergrad. I think she and I will become good friends one day.


The remainder of my work day pass by in a rather amusing fashion. I'm not really big on children, but sometimes they are amazing to be around. Tegan, a five year old cancer patient, is feeling spirited today. We spend our session dancing around until it was time for her to leave for treatment. Somehow she convinces the nurse to bring her back to my office afterwards, even though she wasn't feel so well. It kills me to see how so sick. She's such a small child, but so optimistic and charming. I want nothing but to see how well.

I'm thinking about Tegan as I walk down the street towards my apartment. From behind something pokes my side. I jump and yelp, turning around to come face to face with Donovan who stood there with a smirk.
"Pay attention. You make it so easy to sneak up on you."
I slap his arm. "Don't poke me. I hate that."
"I know you do."
I turn around and stomp off. "Where have you been?" I toss over my shoulder because I know he's right behind me. I wondered how he was after seeing his wife in action. Then again, Donovan clearly knows his wife is a turncoat.
"Looking for me?"
"Yes." Why lie? Best to cut around the rose bushes now.
"Work. Had to work two double shifts."
"Strenuous," I comment.
"Nothing I can't handle."
I stop at the corner and wait for the light to change. "Well aren't you a big boy."
"Want to know just how big?"
I'm not sure where he's going with such a statement but I know where I'm going with such a statement. Such a perverted mind I have. I clench my stomach and legs together. "No thanks. I'll pass."
The light changes green but he steps in front of me blocking my way. "To bad," he says and scoops me over his shoulders fireman style.
"Put me down. Put me down," I say slapping his back. "This is completely undignified." I slap him again, but he continues to walk, carrying me as if I am as light as a feather. We receive looks from everyone we pass by, but not of them stop to say or do anything. Some even smiled cheekily like it was normal to see a guy carrying a lady down the street in broad daylight for no reason at all.
I bite the middle of his back, not hard, but with enough pressure that I hope he would release me. He doesn't. He just slaps my butt which is right there exposed to him. I scream out, violated. "Keep biting me and I'll bite back." He replies and slaps me again.
Once more I scream out. He stops at the next light and I continue to slap him to no avail. The older lady next to me just chuckles to herself. I glare at her. I see a cop a few feet away. "Officer. Officer. Help me. He's ins--ompf!" Donovan tosses his shoulder back causing me to rise a bit and crash back down.
"Sir. What are you doing?" I hear the officer asks, but he sounds like he's enjoying the show himself.
"Nothing. Just trying to convince my girlfriend not to leave me."
I push myself up and look over my back. "I'm not his girlfriend."
"That's the issue," Donovan says to the cop. The light changes and he walks away. I hang in defeat, burying my face deep into his back to hide it from anyone else. I bite him again. With one hand, he bends my leg up and bite my ankle. I squeal and he drops me off his shoulder to my feet. Instantly I slap his arm. Then again. He laughs and catches my hands. "Calm down." He nods towards his car. "Get in."
I try to yank my arms free. "Where are you trying to take me?"
"Anthony's house."
I snatch away. My wrist are red. "Why?"
He walks around to his side of the car. "Did I question you when you dragged me all around downtown the other day? No. Just get in." He opens his door and waits for me to open the one on my side before he climbs into the black Ford truck.  
I slip into the overly large but comfortable seat. I wonder what kind of truck this is, but I suck at automobiles. Only reason I know it's a ford is because it says FORD on the front.

It takes us about twenty-five minutes to get from Downtown Baltimore to Owings Mills where Anthony lives. He parks in the drive way of the house that I've never visited when we were teenagers but heard about from various females. "So this is the Sinclair Manor."
"What?"
"One of my classmates, Chanika, you might remember her. She lived two buildings away from me. Thick. Loud. Anyway, she use to talk to me everyday in class about coming her with Brittany, you, and Anthony."
Donovan shrugs. "I have no clue who you're talking about."
I shrug as well. "Doesn't matter." Thought the four of them had been here together, Donovan hasn't been invovled with here. Knowing him, he probably went up to his room and locked everyone else out.

He opens the door and we enter. There's no one inside. "Where's Anthony?" I ask.
He walks up the stairs and enters what looks like an entertainment room. "On his way home. David and Stephan are on their way over as well."
"What is this, like some guys night out thing or something."
"Or something."
"So why am I here?"
He sits down on the sofa and I sit as well. "They want you here."
I feel my lips twitch. "They? That means you don't."
"Not really," he replies mildly.
I turn until I face him completely. "Really?"
"Really."
"Well..." I stand up. "I'm leaving. What's the taxi company number?"
Donovan grabs my hand and pulls me back on the sofa. "I want you here too. There. Ego doing a back flip yet?"
I fall half on top of him. Scooting away, I sit up and grin. I reach out and pinch his cheeks. "Now that wasn't so hard was it," I coo with my best auntie voice. "No it wasn't my little sugar dumpling. Look at you, you're so cute when your embarrassed. I just want to eat you up my little good boy."
Donovan smacks my hand down and pushes me away. "Cut that shit out."
I fall back laughing. "Does the Donny Jaunny not like being called cute," I continue to coo. "Aww, Shannon's sowwi."

He pokes my side. I scream and laugh harder. He pokes me again and I scream once more. Then he attacks me mercilessly with the pokes. I fight him off. I hate being poked in the side. I'm extremely ticklish, and because I'm so small there's no cushion there to absorb the poke. It hurts as much as it tickles. I swing out and smack him. Almost instantly, I grab his hands and hold them down as I sit up. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Don't hit me. Oh, it's so red." I try not the laugh, but the look on his face, an expression of disbelief, makes it hard not the grin. "Please. Don't hit me. You wouldn't stop."
He tries to pull his hands out of mine. "So you slap me."
"Don't hit me."
"No. It's only fair I slap you back."
Before he's able to pull free, I let him go and slap the other side of his face. Not hard of course. I jump up and put a distance between us as I laugh. "Now both cheeks match." He looks up with murder in his eyes and I feel my death coming quickly. I try to run away, but he grabs me and snatches me back onto the sofa. He attacks me relentlessly and I scream and squirm, flailing on my back, trying desperately to push him off me.

Seconds pass by before I feel his lips are on my neck, right where I--"Donovan don't." He licks the spot right below my left ear and I shiver. My breath hitches.  "D-D-Donny." I grip the back of his neck and pull his head up. The devil is in his eyes. That bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Don't do things that will make me hate you in the end."
His eyes wander over my face. "Shouldn't I say the same to you?"
I bite my bottom lip to hold in my response. I try to push him up.

"Should I come back later?" Anthony says from his position in the doorway.
I look over to where he stands. So does Donovan. Stephan walks in behind Anthony.
"Oh look! Turtle pile!"
"Don't you dare!" I warn.
He runs over and jumps on top of Donovan. The extra weight makes Donovan collapse back on top of me and knocks the wind out of my lungs. I'm laughing, but also trying to get both boys off with no luck. Stephan won't budge.
"Pile up!" Someone else yells from the doorway. I try to look up but can't move with all the extra weight on top of me. No need. It may have been years since I've last seen him, but I recognize David's voice clearly.
More weight adds on and I feel like road kill. Maybe this wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if Donovan wasn't pressed directly between my legs. Not that it was uncomfortable physically, but mentally I was all too aware of our position. He nipped my shoulder. So was he. Bastard. But, glad to know I wasn't the only one with the attraction. Yet, I don't think that's a good thing. Not with his current...situation at hand.
"Anthony," I cry out. "I can't breath." Second tick by. "Really...I can't breath."
Anthony walks over pulls his older brother off. Once David is no longer on the top, Donovan pushes up hard enough to dislodge Stephan. He raises up and pulls me into a sitting position. "Better?" he asks searching my face for any sign of distress, I guess. "Do you need something to drink?"
I can feel my face flushed, though it isn't red for from being smothered. I nod and shoot daggers at Stephan and David. "Nice seeing you two again. Stephan I can understand, but what the hell David?"
David pulls me into a hug, which I reluctantly return.
"I didn't know you would be here," he says.
"I was kidnapped."
He laughs but I don't. " No seriously. I was kidnapped. Tossed over the shoulder fireman style. All that was missing was some rope and a gag."
He looks down at Donovan who says nothing. Just pulls me out of David's embrace and back down onto the sofa.
"So," I say. "What's the plan?"

I didn't know men had the ability to multitask. I thought that was something their puny brains couldn't handle. I sit on the side and watch the four engage into an intense game of spades coupled with swearing and threats of bodily harm, while watching a movie at the same time. Another action movie. Men. Maybe they possess the ability to multitask when it comes to trivial things.

"You want to play the next hand?" Anthony calls out.
I shake my head. "I don't know the first thing about cards."
"Come here." Donovan gesture's. "I'll teach you."
"So you can bite my head off when you lose. Thanks, but no thanks."
"I won't bite you head off."
I pull my chair next to his.
"Maybe just a few fingers."
Slowly I turn my head to him. "Funny."
He runs the rules over by me. They're quite simple in fact. With a bit of his guidance, I actually don't do that bad. I don't win, but I'm not last either. The second hand I play without his help. Again, not the winner, but not in last place. This game isn't so hard. I snort. No wonder they can play this and watch TV at the same time. But unlike them, I don't find this game all that thrilling, and by the end of the third hand I give in, no longer interested. It's much more exciting to watch them play and threaten to kill each other.

They start a new game, playing in teams this time. David and Donovan vs Anthony and Stephan. I kick my legs up, resting them on Donovan's lap, and nibble on a bag of popcorn as I watch them. It really is amusing.
"Why would you throw out that? Fucking idiot." Anthony snaps at Stephan.
I giggle. It's rare to ever see Anthony lose his cool. I don't think I have before. I sit there, jaw dropped, surprised that the he can raise his voice. He's always so cool and sexy. He's the kind of guy who can run a marathon and wouldn't sweat.
"What the hell was I suppose to throw out? I don't have anything else," Stephan argues back.
"Fucking idiot," Anthony repeats. "Just throw your hand in."
"You throw your hand in."
They continue to go back and forth throughout the rest of the game.

Sitting here like this, my mind drifts back to Sunday and how it ended. I don't know why that just popped into my head, but it does. "How are you feeling?" I ask Donovan low enough that only he can hear me. "You know...about Sunday."
He throws at card out and looks at me. "I'm good."
He sounds 'good', but it's kind of hard to believe. "Really? You became rather closed off afterwards?"
"Not for the reason you think," he whispers back. "Is there a personal or professional reason you're asking?"
"Unless you're willing to pay me the ninety-five dollars I charge-"
"I'm not."
"Then I guess personal."
It's his go again and he tosses out another card. "Why?"
"Because."
"Because what?"
"Because you're my friend. I want to make sure you're okay."
"I'm okay. Thanks."
"What are you two whispering about?" David asks from the other side of the table.
I shake my head.
"About Tara being a hoe," Donovan replies casually.
My head snaps towards him, my face frowned. "That's horrible."
"That's true," Anthony replies.
"Even if it is. Coming from her husband, that's horrible."
"Husband merely in name."
"And I've have yet to figure out how that happened," I mumble under my breath. "Still. Don't say hoe."
He tosses a card. "Then what should I say."
"Turncoat."
He looks at me and rolls his eyes. "We were talking about Tara being a turncoat." His attention is back on me. He rolls his eyes again.
I smile and pinch his cheek. "See. That's so much better," I coo.
He smacks my hand away from his face. "Pinch my cheeks again and I'm going to take off my belt and spank you."
"Stick and stones my break my bones, but chains and whips excite me."
His brows raises. "Oh yeah?" He reaches for his belt.
I cover my face to hide my blush and laugh at my own foolishness.

Around nine-thirty, Donovan takes me home after I start to fall asleep against his shoulder.
"I don't want you drooling on me again," he says while we're in the car.
"No fault-card. Remember."
As he drives I turn my head in his direction and just watch. Maybe it's because I'm sleepy that I feel more bold. Or maybe it's just what he does to me. Either way, I openly stare.
He pulls up in front of our building. He was going back to his brother's house tonight, so he was only dropping me off. "Thanks. I had fun."
"No you didn't," he responds.
"Yes I did." I unbuckle my seat belt. I grab my bag and open the door. "Let me know when you get back."
"I don't have your number."
"I don't believe that. You may have stole it when you stole my key. But ask Anthony if you don't." I slide out my seat, but stop. Looking back I lean inside and kiss his lips lightly. "Good night."
"Good night." His voice is low, his eyes locked on mine.
I slip out the truck and shut the door. It takes all my will power, but I don't look back as I walk into the building and onto the elevator.


I step off the elevator when the doors open on my floor. Walking down the hall I dig through my purse looking for my keys.
"Shannon."
I turn around to see who has called me. Tara is standing behind me, her eyes narrowed.
"Yes?"
"Are you sleeping with my husband?"
I feel my brows raise. Where did that question come from? And does she even have the right to come at me like this? Her? This turncoat?  "Excuse me?"
"Bitch, you heard me. Are you sleeping with my husband?" Her voice rises.
I'm so tempted to roll my eyes. I can see it now. She's going to pull that hood rat routine on me. Typical tramp. "Lets clarify something first. My name's not bitch. If you have a question, ask it, but don't disrespect me."
"Why were you with my husband? Huh? Why did I see him carrying you down the street to his car?"
I chuckled. "Why don't you ask him why he was carrying me like that. And when you find out, if you find out, please let me know."
"Shit ain't funny. You think sleeping with my man is funny? I should smack that smile off your fucking face."
At this my eyes narrow. I step toward her until I'm standing directly in front of her, separated by only a few inches. "Make all the threats you want to little girl, but just know that if you act on them, I'll whip your ass up and down this hall." My voice was low and menacing. Let her doubt me if she dares, but there's a reason Donovan and I matched so well back then.
I hear a door open somewhere down the hall. "Shannon? What's wrong?" Sam asked from her doorway.
I keep my eyes locked with Tara, clearly showing her that despite our size difference she doesn't scare me. I've fought guys bigger than her. And won. Tara rolled her eyes. "Roll your eyes, with those fake ass lashes. Just don't ever disrespect me again." I turn away and look at Sam. "Nothing. I'm fine."
Sam pushes the door open further and motions for me to come into her apartment.
I look at Tara one last time. "And no. I'm not sleeping with your husband." I walk away. "But neither are you."

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