Insatiable Love 2

by Latoya Chandler

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

The shocking conclusion to the Carter’s roller-coaster ride will leave you with an insatiable appetite for love…
Darnell Carter’s heart stopped working the moment he awoke from his coma. But he had been dead on the inside for quite some time. He hopes to resuscitate it, but that depends on his wife, Latavia.

The Carters have been on an unimaginable journey of lies, secrets, betrayal, and infidelity. What happened to marital bliss? Does it exist? After the death of their friends and their marriage, is it possible to pick up the pieces and move on?

Release date: October 26, 2021

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Through all of this bickering and fighting with my husband, Bernard blackmails me into memorializing the skeletons of my childhood. Honestly, the way I see it, life has a way of dealing you the same cards over and over. It’s just a different scene and characters but pretty much the same scenario. I’ve never approached the demons of my past, and it appears they’ve decided to have an all-out intervention with my mind via my darling husband.

I was taught that once our sins are forgiven, they are thrown into the sea of forgetfulness. That includes the sins of our mothers, fathers, and family. All I had to do was forgive them and I would be in a better place with God, cleansed from all I’ve done, thought, or what was done to me. Right now, I’m starting to wonder how true that is considering the way things have been with Bernard and me. Let’s not forget my prison sentence, or bid, I did being married to Braxton.

I don’t know where to start. I believe I was a vibrant, energetic child but would find myself in some mischief in one way or another. However, my heartache started long before I was even born. My birth mother wanted to give me up for adoption, but her parents, my biological grandparents, wouldn’t allow it. This caused a battle, and my mom eventually gave my grandparents custody of me because they wanted me, and she didn’t. They were ultimately deemed unfit. I was in there for six months after being born with health issues inherited from my mom’s drug abuse. Narcotics played a massive part in my mom’s life, dictating all her decisions, especially those having to do with loving and accepting me.

I bounced around from foster home to foster home for ten years, which afforded a mix of good and bad experiences. It also left me with a constant sense of abandonment, mistrust, and low self-esteem from growing up not feeling wanted. Fortunately, or not so fortunately for me, I found a foster family who took me in as one of their own on my tenth birthday. They eventually adopted me when I was 14. They were always harder on me than they were with my other adopted siblings. I was told it only appeared that way because I was the oldest of the five children, and more was expected of me.

My foster parents were very rigid in their religious beliefs and made us children obey them—or should I say honor them—or, they told us, our days on earth would be cut short. I usually refused to give into their requests and demands, such as only wearing dresses that went past my knees, because I was made fun of at school. I would steal or borrow my younger sister’s pants and would change as soon as I got on the school bus. Because I was older and my body was changing, I was required to hide my body so a man could find me when I came of age and want me for me, not because I was a whore revealing all my body parts.

My foster/adoptive dad, the disciplinarian, caught wind of my rebellious behavior by mysteriously showing up at school during lunch to “see what I was up to.” I paid for it severely when I got home from school. Tears threaten my eyes from just reliving the horrific experiences, especially one in particular.

“Sharon, I see you want to be grown and whore around in men’s britches,” my dad barked.

“No, sir, it was frigid out, so I borrowed Kacey’s pants.”

“Thou shalt not lie. What commandment are you breaking?” he chastised me, swinging a black leather belt with studs in it, connecting it with the side of my face.

“I am sorry, sir,” I screeched through the pain.

“Thou shalt not lie. What commandment are you breaking?”

“The ninth commandment, sir,” I howled.

He battered me for what appeared to be days in the most unfriendly and unloving manner with that belt, gifting me with bruises and scars until I believed I was unconscious. After a while, I really did black out. I had marks all over my body and gashes from the studs, so I was forced to stay home from school to hide the contusions and homemade stitches Mommy dearest would inflict or create to close up the deep open wounds the belt had generated.

I eventually ran away from home, not knowing where I was going, which was when I ran into and officially met Braxton, the ladies’ man from school. I ended up confessing and telling him about the abuse. After giving him my virginity that evening, I knew he was a godsend the way he made love to me, catering to my body and making me feel wanted and special in a way I had never in my life felt before.

Braxton also allowed me to hide in his grandmother’s basement until we came up with a plan B. For that reason alone, I love him the way I do. I feel I owe him for rescuing me from my foster/adoptive parents’ abuse. I regret not giving him the one thing he wanted—a child—which is something no other woman has been able to provide him with either. This is what I believed severed our marriage, and ironically, is probably one of the reasons I’ve grown fond of Latavia. She is allowing his legacy to live on, something no other woman could give him either.

Right now, the one thing missing from my marriage that can and will allow things to flourish between us is a child. I know giving him a son would make things better for us. He just doesn’t realize it because he can’t get past his own warped belief system. That’s why I’m here as his helpmate. My only interference is he always wears a condom when we make love, and there’s no way of talking him out of it.

Wait a minute . . . Thank you, God, for the great idea. You see, God will grant you what your heart desires. I just had a thought drop into my spirit. I will puncture holes into all of the condoms in the nightstand with a straight pin so he won’t notice them. That way, I can give my husband what no other woman has been able to give him and also have someone to really love me like no other.

Thank God for my friend and brother, Carter. I needed that. Now I have to occupy my mind to avoid driving over to where the love of my life, Cola, lives and making an unnecessary scene. Does this woman know or realize how much I love her? We cannot go on with the back-and-forth any longer. I need balance and stability for myself and, most importantly, my Gabby. I think I’m going to bite the bullet and go on over there after getting this place straightened up. We need to talk so I can see where her head is and what she’s thinking.

“Oh, shit! Cola, when and how did you get here?” I quiz, startled to see her sitting on my bed as I enter the bedroom.

“I got a little scared, papi. I’m sorry. No one has ever treated me the way you do, but I’m here to give us a try and to make it up to you if you’ll let me,” she baits me.

Mesmerized by her beauty, I almost forget why I was upset or bothered in the first place. Not to mention the scene displayed right before me. She is sitting on top of the bed, which appears to be draped in a shower curtain, wearing only a white T-shirt. Before I can begin to utter a word, she pours some baby oil onto her tits and rubs it in. Her nipples are instantly exposed through the T-shirt, alerting my soldier to stand at full attention. Cola must have noticed she now has my undivided attention. She’s pouring it all over herself, pausing at her thighs, massaging the oil in, working her way down to her cleanly shaven kit-kat.

“My candy licker would make you feel better. Let papi see how many licks it would take.”

“Let me get it nice and wet for you, papi,” she entices me, painting her clit a creamy shade of white.

She is now removing her shirt, and I’m about to lose my goddamn mind. I need to be in on this action. “Is it time for papi to come and play?”

Without using words, she declines my admission to the playground, getting on all fours, pointing her immaculate round ass toward me. She pours more baby oil onto her lower back, allowing it to run down her ass, before manipulating it in for me, working her hand in and out of her cheeks and legs.

My heart is racing at record speed. This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen. “Baby, I can’t take it anymore. I want to please you.”

Instead of a verbal response, she jiggles her lady parts, gyrating and rubbing herself, summoning me to come join her.

“Lie on your stomach, and keep that ass up,” I command, entering her with deep strokes. The feeling of her slippery skin and soaking wet box is better than I’ve ever imagined it could be. Every single part of her body feels like the inside of her kit-kat—nice and wet. I believe she is the horniest I have ever seen her.

“I want to bounce on it, papi,” she begs, pouring baby oil on my chest, locking eyes with me, breathing heavy, and licking her lips.

This oil has our bodies sliding against each other and has me going even more. With her feet flat against the bed beside each of my arms, Cola begins some squatting exercises up and down on my Johnson between reaching behind herself to play with the Johnson’s twins. I’m not sure if it was the show she gave me, because I usually last longer than this, but I’m about to tap out. I can’t hold back any longer.

“Damn, Cola,” is all I can utter before my volcano erupts.

This woman sure knows how to get what she wants out of me. Damn!

“Talk to me.”

“Yo, Bernard, some shit went down, and Nae is dead,” Michael cries.

“Hold up! Slow the fuck down. Dead? As in gone?”

“Are you hard of hearing? You heard what I said!”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Not a hundred percent sure. They’re trying to figure it all out, but you know we’re on lockdown until further notice. All I know right now is that someone was out to get her and cut her up pretty bad. They cut her fuckin’ throat, B.”

“Damn, that’s fucked up! You seem to be taking this pretty hard, my man. You think you’re going to be all right?”

“Man, fuck you!”

“Hello?”

It appears his turned-out ass is in his feelings, hanging up phones and shit. I am a little fucked up that Nae went out like that, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? It was her or me, and I’m not taking the wrap for any of this shit. Michael’s nose was so deep in her ass that I couldn’t risk it. I did what was necessary. I feel bad. She got caught up in something she had no business in from the gate.

I think I’ll take this time to go give my boy a visit. I haven’t seen him in a minute, I ponder, driving in the direction of the hospital. I’ve been trying to give him a minute to get his mental straight and deal with Latavia’s ass.

“Hey, D! What’s up, partner? You’re looking good, my man.”

“I can’t call it, Nard. Where’s your ass been?”

“Dealing with Sharon’s crazy ass and giving you time, you know?”

“So now you know what I need?”

“Man, I’m just looking out for you as usual.”

“Go ahead with that. So what’s new?”

“Not a damn thing. Oh, yeah, I ran into your old flame, D.”

“Who?”

“Nicole’s trifling ass.”

“Is that right? It looks like she’s running into everyone these days.”

“Why you say that?”

“She came up here talking nonsense. Speaking of that, why the fuck did you tell her where to find me?”

“It wasn’t like that, D. I didn’t give her specifics. She must have figured that shit out.”

“I shouldn’t have been on your lips in a conversation with that trick, real talk.”

“Why are you upset? You still crushing on her, D?” he taunts.

“Shut the fuck up, Nard. I have a woman. I’m good.”

“So what’s up? What did she want?”

“She’s up to no good, coming up here out of the blue on some bullshit. Then Martinez comes up here to visit the following day all upset about his old lady, who happens to be Nicole!”

“Get the fuck out of here! It can’t be the same Nicole.”

“I kid you not. He showed me a picture of her.”

“That’s some fucked-up shit.”

“How so? What she and I had has been long gone. That’s Martinez’s headache, not mine.”

“You’re right about that shit.”

Damn! How the hell did Nicole just happen to forget to mention she’s fucking Martinez too? That’s some bullshit! She’s just fucking through all of us? What? She thinks we wouldn’t catch on? We do this shit for a living. It’s just unfortunate for Martinez’s dumb ass because he’s caught the fuck up not knowing his bitch is a ho. I’m not going to alert him of it either. As long as she’s keeping my dick hard, we’re good.

Dear Diary:

Hey, you. I know it’s been a couple of minutes since we’ve spoken, and so much has happened. For starters, my papi had a romantic evening planned, which I caught wind of after speaking to Granny. You know the old lady can’t hold water. Anyway, he arranged for a limo to pick me up at his place and take me to the spa, which was so needed. It gave me time to think and put two and two together. I knew good and well that if I went back to that house, he would have been on some Boyz II Men tip on bended knee, and marriage was never part of the plan. Don’t get me wrong, I do care for him and never expected to fall for him, but I did. It’s just unfortunate my heart, mind, body, and soul belong to you-know-who. Yes, before you ask, I still can’t say his name without tearing up.

Back to the matter at hand. I had to think fast after bailing out on my papi, so you know I did what I do best—I threw this sweet, fat, hypnotizing dick trap on him, and he’s even more open than he was before. You should have seen me. I put on a show, and all it took was a shower curtain, baby oil, and one of his white tees. Talk about sexing on a budget. I can teach you some shit. Yeah, I know I am crazy as hell, but that’s why you love me the way you do.

Oh, yeah, before I forget, I went to try to visit you-know-who again, and they wouldn’t even let me in. They said I don’t have clearance, and I’m not on the visiting list, and if I come back, they will call the authorities and have me arrested. Ain’t that some shit? I read between the lines, and the bottom line is he wants to be loyal to that tramp of his. Seeing me or being around me would abort that dedication of his. That just excites me even more, and now I am on to plan B, C, D, and E, whatever they are. So with that, my friend, I’m going to call it a night. My papi will be back from his shower any minute, and I need to rock his ass to sleep.

Love Always,

The Real Mrs. Carter aka Nikki the Sex Freak

I cannot imagine what’s possibly going through that poor woman’s mind. This is god-awful. “Lord, I pray you send angels to encamp around Latavia to comfort and protect her mind. Amen.”

Why today of all days did Bernard decide to come home late? I really want to get over to Latavia’s. She really shouldn’t be alone right now. . .