Author's Note: Mature themes ahead. Regardless, enjoy!
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1985 - The Penthouse, California
PRINCE
Watching Brenda sleep after we made love always captivated my soul. The Disney pale face of Sleeping Beauty diminished in comparison to whenever my Nubian queen shut her ebony eyes. I could rest in her embrace for the rest of my life.
This woman gained my heart the moment we met. I could see myself standing underneath that flowered wedding two years ago, but wouldn't scare her away. I saw her in my dreams leading up to our first encounter. As if we'd seen one another in a past life. As if I knew she'd be my lifetime companion.
Dim lighting of my bedroom blurred as I watched her stirr awake. That curly lion mane proved disheveled at least, hiding those perfect brown eyes.
She sat up against pillows and I leaned for a kiss, intoxicated by her sheepish grin. My intentions only deemed pure this time.
I'd do anything for my best friend.
"Good morning, Mo..."A variation of her nickname trailed off my voice. When our lips pulled away, her ring decorated hand reached out to hold my face. Our noses brushed against one another in the dark but golden light.
My own ring still embellished with its spiritual glory. I froze in time with this woman again. Even Michael would never understand the depth of my feelings toward her. But right now, opinions meant nothing.
I kissed the top of my wife's head as if she would disappear in the morning. Every movement of my lips towards her body glided with delicate intentions.
When I reached her collarbone, the landline shrilled. We both groaned out of frustration, but I settled for another kiss on her sweet bare mouth. My poor baby buried herself underneath a pillow for silence. I understood why.
"Hello?" I croak a response and leaned across the bed to lace fingers with my wife. She'd finally stopped hiding under the pillow. Rustling covers prompted me to turn my eyes. Brenda protected herself from the cold by draping a blanket over her bare and dark but gorgeous complexion.
A puzzled expression ran across my narrowed eyes until my wife trailed kisses along my own neck. Mama almost distracted me by now.
She pouted when I refused the enticing gestures and scooted away. On the line, manager Steven insisted that Michael wanted to speak with me in person. Despite increased anger, I refused to yell during this professional phone call.
"He wants you and Brenda to meet him tonight at this restaurant downtown. Let me give you the address..."
I fumbled to open and close my designated nightstand. Brenda tossed me her favorite pen without even protesting.
We both figured out that meeting with Michael would prompt him to leave us alone. At least I hoped so.
Poor Steven apologized, but I offered this man a bonus for braving such a last minute inquiry. Otherwise, management always hustled in advance. Given my career, there was no other way.
Monty and I showered together just for the sake of our sanity and pent lust towards one another.
Without another round of sex that morning, we probably would've erupted from both separation anxiety for today and definitely encountered frustration regarding Michael this evening.
"Don't you ever leave me." I We kissed feverishly and I even backed my wife against the wall as we both waited the living room elevator to chime open. Her usually dancing legs wrapped around my waist now as I nipped and kissed the crevice of her neck. My own hazel eyes only powered with lust now.
"I'm never leaving you, Baby. Oh God..." Her New Jersey accent called to heaven with the strongest conviction. She allowed me to almost undress her once more.
Just as I reached the center of those perfectly hugging jeans, the doors chimed open.
Fuck! I thought to myself.
***
Michael encountered us in a private room that night. Brenda and I walked hand in hand and smiled for paparazzi before greeting him.
I ended up faking one grin after another for Michael before sitting down with my wife. As if Jackson never occupied the room with us.
The server dished out water before alcohol and sauntered out of the elegant room. Even this female pianist offered Jazz improvisations for our pleasure. I tipped off hat to Michael in my mind. At least he kept up some sort of class beyond the terrible arrogance.
"What's the occasion?" I smiled toward Mike while holding Brenda's hand underneath the ivory covered the table. The easy listening music continued playing throughout my small talk. My wife looked gorgeous in this low cut and tasteful dress, but her eyes still narrowed. Reasonably so.
"How long are you two going to keep fooling the press? I'm not stupid." Michael folded his arms. Aviators wouldn't move away from that possible glare towards me.
I choked on the water. Monty (Brenda) narrowed those eyes again. The pianist fumbled on his beautiful instrument. Our collective management teams dropped jaws behind my head. My ring hand should've punched Michael in the face right now.
"Let's get the hell out of here." Monty snipped. Any payment transferred to her tab. My heeled steps followed without hesitation. Even my managers frowned towards Michael.
I wasn't the only leader in this couple. I was a man who listened to his woman.
Michael would always control people.
