Turned Out Saga

by Angel M. Hunter

Genres: African American Urban; African American Women's Fiction; African American Romance

Synopsis

Champaign and Zyair have been together for five years, and they’re feeling the need to rekindle the erotic spark between them. When they decide to invite a third person into their bedroom, neither one of them realizes how much their lives will change. What starts out as one night of experimentation becomes an obsession for Champaign, who decides she wants to experience that kind of passion again and again. Meanwhile, her friend Alexis is tired of being used, abused, and treated as an afterthought, Alexis decides to explore her wild side. She plans to put aside her beliefs of how a lady should behave and live life according to her pleasures. If it pleases her, she will say it and do it. She’ll be the man in all three of her relationships from this day forward. One man is in her life for materialistic reasons, the other for sexual exploration, and the third is her eye candy. Before she knows it, the drama begins. She is stalked, arrested, and emotionally drained. Alexis has started a journey that she knows must end; however, she’s become addicted to the excitement of it all and can’t seem to stop.

Release date: May 31, 2016

Publisher: Urban Renaissance

Print pages: 512

Sample

At the age of twenty-nine, you would think Champagne Rose had it all. She worked as a publicist in New York City and was engaged to the man of many women’s dreams, Zyair Truesdale. Not only was he a wealthy entrepreneur, but he was kind, supportive, and willing to do anything for her. Even with the picture-perfect life, Champagne felt that something was missing, and she was ready to make changes in her life and in her relationship.

She didn’t believe in moving in with someone before marrying them, up until Zyair convinced her otherwise. Now five years later, she and Zyair still lived together, unmarried.

The funny thing was, he wanted to get married, but she was comfortable with what they had. She enjoyed having her own bank account. She enjoyed the independence that came with not being married. Champagne watched her friends’ relationships fall apart right after they got married, for one reason or another, and didn’t want that to happen to her and Zyair.

She wasn’t ready to get married, but she also wasn’t ready to break up. It’s just that they’d been together now for so long and things were starting to wear thin. The chemistry just wasn’t there. The sex had become routine, the same shit over and over—You lick me, I suck you, you put it in, and then I’ll ride you. You cum, and I’ll cum, maybe . . . if I’m lucky. At least that’s how she perceived it.

Champagne yearned for more caressing, kissing, cuddling, and talking. She knew she still loved him but the passion was gone. She often found herself avoiding sex altogether.

If it was bothering her, it had to be bothering him.

Was it her? Was it him? Was it their busy lifestyles? Whatever it was, she knew it had to change, and fast. She wanted to feel his fingers in her hair, moving down to her neck, where his fingers would be replaced with his lips. She wanted him to tease her with his tongue, tease her with his manhood, putting just the tip in and pulling it out. She wanted to beg for it, to demand that he enter her. She was tired of him putting it in, whether she was ready or not, tired of the rollover sex, the moving-in-and-out, up-and-down momentum of it all. She was just plain tired.

Champagne wanted things to change. She needed things to change. She still loved him, for goodness’ sake. She just wasn’t in love. Were you supposed to stay in love, she wondered, or did this happen to every couple? If it did, the thought frightened her. She was determined to gain back what they once had.

Sometimes late at night as they made love, she would lay in their king-sized bed and let her mind wander. She pretended to instruct him, tell him what to do, where to kiss. She’d ask him if he forgot her secret spots, and he would then ignite the slowly fading fire.

She chose to hold these thoughts in. She realized thinking something and saying it were two different things. She was afraid. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and she definitely didn’t want him going off to be with some other woman, just to prove he still had it.

So she put up with the mediocre sex and wondered if he was doing the same.

Little did she know, Zyair was getting bored with their sex life as well. The fireworks and the umph was gone. It wasn’t like he wasn’t attracted to Champagne anymore. He was. To him, she was still fine and sexy. He was still drawn to her, still interested. Heck, he was ready to marry her. So why wasn’t their sex life the way it used to be? Why wasn’t it as intense as it used to be? He remembered when they used to have to dry their bodies off because of the steam they created together.

They used to have sex in every room, and everywhere. She’d even given him a blowjob in the car not once or twice but a number of times. Now he could count the number of times she’d suck his dick in a month on one hand. What the hell was going on with them? He wished he had the answer.

Sometimes while they were making love, he would feel his dick go soft. He would then have to close his eyes and fantasize. Normally, that fantasy included another woman. So common, he thought, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t have this fantasy because he wanted to sex someone else down. He did because he believed it would enhance what was slowly fading. He also knew it was an ego thing. He wanted to be “the man,” the one to satisfy two women. He also wanted to see his woman being pleased. He loved how she looked when she was at the point of no return, the way her eyes would close and her mouth would part, and she would arch her back and let out a soft moan.

The other reason was because, honestly, his mind did stray and he did think about new pussy every now and again, and this way he could actually get it without cheating. So, on second thought, maybe he did want to sex another woman down.

Just like Champagne, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want her to kick him out or kick his ass. She might even have accused him of having an affair, which wasn’t the case. That was in the past, where it belonged. He’d been there, done that, got caught, and won’t do it again.

Zyair Truesdale owned his own business. Well, actually it used to be his parents’, and when they’d retired, they turned it over to him. Both parents were now deceased. His father had died four years earlier of a heart attack, and his mother less than a year later, of heartache. At least, that’s what he believed.

Being the educated brother he was, he capitalized on it in a big way. Because of his business sense, Zyair was able to live comfortably. He thanked his parents in his prayers and knew they would’ve been proud of him and what he’d done with the business.

Private Affairs, an upscale restaurant and catering service, had two locations, one in New Jersey, the other in Georgia. His plan was to open a third in Miami within the next two years. Only the rich or well-off could afford the prices, and that’s how Zyair wanted to keep it. The food was not only delectable but the ambiance was classy. And on Thursday through Sunday, he showcased live bands.

It was where Zyair and Champagne met. She was wining and dining one of her potential clients, Jackson Davis, an up-and-coming actor who’d just landed a movie with top billing stars, and he was looking for someone to get his name and face out there. He’d heard that Champagne was the one.

Jackson was flirting with her, trying to get the message across that he was interested in more than business but she pretended like she didn’t notice.

From across the room, Zyair couldn’t take his eyes off her but didn’t want to say anything, not knowing if they were on a date. It was obvious that the gentleman she was with wanted more than she was willing to give. Every now and then, he would try to take her hand, and she would pull back. He’d lean in a little close, and she’d lean away. Zyair chuckled to himself. “Damn, brother, can’t you take a hint?”

Finally, Champagne stood up to go to the ladies’ room.

Zyair saw this as his opportunity. He walked a short distance behind her, and paced a short distance from the bathroom door, waiting for her to come out.

When she stepped out and started heading toward her table, he approached her. “Excuse me, are you and your date enjoying your meal?”

Champagne placed her hands on her hips and playfully asked him, “Are you a restaurant critic or something?”

Laughing, he told her he was the owner of the establishment and was just checking on his most attractive customer.

Flattered, Champagne smiled. She liked the fact that he was straight to the point. She had noticed him watching her and already knew who he was. After all, she worked in the public relations field, and it was her business to know everyone with status, especially in the African American community.

A month earlier, she went out to lunch with Alexis, her best friend since college. She’d just read a feature article on him in Black Enterprise and was impressed. After showing his picture to Alexis, she joked, “This man is fine as hell. Rich and smart. I’m fine, going to be rich, and bordering on brilliant. Don’t you think we’d make a good couple?”

Alexis laughed. Little did she know, that prediction might be coming true. Would she laugh when she heard that she might stand a chance?

“Well,” Zyair said, interrupting her thoughts, “are you and your date having a good time?”

“He’s not my date, he’s a client. And, yes, we’re having a good time.” Champagne glanced toward the table and noticed Jackson looking their way.

“I have to get back.”

“What’s your name?”

“Champagne Rose.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Placing her right hand in his, he brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on it. “Well, Champagne Rose, can I call you or see you again?”

Looking him in the eyes and shaking on the inside, Champagne said, “How about I call you?”

“You don’t know my name or my number.”

“Zyair Truesdale,” she told him, “and I’ll call you here.” On that note she walked away and left him with a smile.

“She knew who I was all along,” he said to himself.

He liked a woman that played hard to get.

Sometimes Champagne would think back to that moment and recall the rush of talking to him the first time. She wished they could go back and start all over again. Maybe not all over, because they’d overcome a lot and some things she didn’t want to repeat. What she did want a repeat of was the energy of a new relationship. Realistically, she knew it was too late for that, but it wasn’t too late to make some kind of change.

Champagne was irritated by the waiter’s rudeness and intended on telling him so. Then again, maybe she was just on edge considering she and Zyair were out to dinner to have “a talk,” the two most dreaded words in a relationship.

Lately they’d been having a lot of disagreements about nothing and at the most inopportune times. Sometimes it would start first thing in the morning, putting a damper on the rest of her day and leaving her unable to focus and with her mind racing.

Zyair would be doing the same.

Each would think of what they should have said or how they could have handled the situation better. If the disagreement wasn’t first thing in the morning, it was right before bedtime, leaving them unable to sleep, but faking it for fear another disagreement would start up.

Everything one of them did seemed to irritate the other. It didn’t matter what it was, from leaving the plate on the table, to leaving the toilet seat up, or talking loud on the phone. There was entirely too much tension in the house, and it was time to bring it to a head.

Earlier that day, fed up with the nonsense, Champagne suggested they go out to dinner to “talk and discuss some things.”

Zyair agreed, figuring it would be an opportunity to get some things off his chest as well. He was ready to get out of this rut they were in and move forward.

They sat at the Soul Africana cafe, having cocktails and waiting on their appetizers.

“So,” Zyair said, making a weak-ass effort to break the ice.

“So?” Champagne replied.

Zyair loosened his tie. “What’s on your mind?”

Champagne took a deep breath. “I feel like our relationship is at a standstill. I feel like it’s taken a turn for the worst, like something is missing, like we’re stuck in a place I don’t want to be in. I don’t want to continue feeling this way, and I need to know if you’re feeling the same way.” There she’d said it. Now all she had to do was wait on his response.

For a moment Zyair didn’t respond. He’d suspected what this talk would be about but for her to blurt it out, putting it out in the air that way took him off guard. He wondered if it was his fault or whether they were both to blame. He knows that it takes two to make or break a relationship. Was theirs broken or in need of slight repair? “I agree,” he told her. “So what do you propose?”

Since he agreed, Champagne wondered why didn’t he bring this up before she did, and how long he’d been holding back.

“I don’t know. Maybe a vacation, maybe counseling, maybe time apart.”

“Time apart?”

That threw Zyair for a loop. Why would they need time apart? A relationship can’t be fixed with time apart, you needed to be together to make it work. Maybe what she really was saying is that she wanted to break up? Damn, could that be it? Could that be the real reason behind this talk? He didn’t want that. Despite their differences, he couldn’t imagine growing old with anyone else. That whole getting out there, meeting new people, learning their quirks, their likes and dislikes was a lot of work, and he had enough work on his plate. He’d had his share of gold diggers and wasn’t ready to experience the drama again.

“Time apart? How is time apart going to help us?”

“I suggested more than time apart, and if you felt the same way why didn’t you say anything?”

“Honestly . . . because I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong.”

“But you knew something was?”

Zyair sighed and reached across the table, and Champagne placed her hand on top of his. “Yes, Champagne, I did. Listen, I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t have any solutions, but I do know that time apart is not what we need. Maybe what we do need is time together on some exotic island, away from the pressures of work and other outside sources.”

Before Champagne could say anything, the waiter returned, placed their appetizers on the table, and walked away. Didn’t even ask if they needed anything else.

Champagne tried to pull her hands away to call the waiter over, but Zyair, knowing how she was about service, squeezed her hands. “What do you think the problem is?”

“I don’t know either. I just feel like things have gotten routine, and that we got too contented.”

“Contented? You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He removed his hands.

“I’m not saying that at all. What I’m saying is, sometimes I wish we still had that I-can’t-wait-to-see-you and-want-to-be-around-you-every-minute-of-the-day anticipation we had when we first got together.”

“Champagne, is that realistic?”

“Probably not but the thought is nice.”

Zyair smiled because he remembered that feeling like it was yesterday, the anxiety of the first phone call one week after their initial meeting at Private Affairs. Thoughts of her overwhelmed him, and he just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if she would call or if she just played him.

Right when he’d given up hope, she called. He was unavailable at the moment, busy going over a contract with the new chef, and told his assistant to tell her he would call her back within the hour.

“Zyair?” she asked, when he said hello into the phone.

“How did you know it was me?”

“You’re unforgettable,” she flirted. It was because of caller ID and the fact that his voice and his lips were unforgettable.

“I’m glad you called. For a minute there I was giving up all hope,” he told her.

After leaving the restaurant that day, she thought of him often. She wished she had given him her cell phone number instead of taking his.

“Girl, call the man,” Alexis told her, “Remember, he asked you if he could see you again . . .”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Champagne dialed the number, full of anxiety and feeling like a child about to go the candy store, only to be told he’ll call her back within the hour. She tried her hardest not to watch the clock but found herself doing it anyway.

“So how’s your week been?” he asked.

“I’ve just been busy trying to make a dollar,” Champagne said.

“You’re a publicist, right?” He’d done his research. That’s one of the perks of being rich. You can find out almost anything about anyone. He knew he was wrong for having her investigated, but before he took someone out or got too involved, he had to know a little bit about them.

Champagne didn’t recall telling him. “Yeah. How did you know that?”

He lied, “One of my waiters recognized you. He worked an event for one of your clients.”

She tried to recall his staff and couldn’t. “Oh.”

“Would you like to go out sometime?”

She thought he would never ask. “Sure. When?”

“Tomorrow around seven p.m. We could do dinner and perhaps a show.”

“I’d like that.”

They chatted for a short while longer and agreed to meet at Private Affairs and leave from there. Champagne wasn’t ready for him to know where she lived.

That first date was like a fairy tale. He had a limo waiting outside for them.

“You go all out for all your dates?” Champagne asked, not really caring because she was the one getting the special treatment tonight.

“No, I wanted to impress you,” he told her honestly.

“I also didn’t want to have to concentrate on driving. I wanted all my attention to be on you.”

Damn, a brother was smooth and fine.

Every date after that, they looked forward to with excitement. Maybe it was the newness of it all, getting to know one another, or the anticipation of the lovemaking they both determined would come sooner rather than later. It could have been the fact that when they met, they were both looking for someone to share their lives with and found it in each other.

Whatever it was, it had up and disappeared, and it was now time to address the issue.

“Let’s take this opportunity and discuss the pros and cons of our relationship,” Zyair suggested.

Champagne rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about business, this is about us. Our relationship. Pros and cons? What kind of mess is that?”

“Well, you’re the one who said you wanted to talk.”

“I do.”

“Well, I was just making a suggestion.”

“Well, make another one.”

Zyair sighed. “Okay, let’s do it this way. You say one thing that needs to change or has been bothering you, and I’ll do the same.”

“We can’t get mad at each other either, okay,” Champagne said, not wanting this to turn into something ugly.

“I agree. This is about bettering us as a couple, not breaking each other down as individuals.”

“Okay, I’ll go first,” Champagne volunteered. “Maybe we’ve gotten bored with one another.”

“Bored? I don’t know if that’s it. Maybe we’ve gotten more like routine. Everything is the same. It’s stagnant, our work schedules, what we do when we get home, even the sex.”

“The sex?” Champagne panicked. She knew it and wanted to be the first to address it, but to hear him say it brought up all sort of insecurities.

“Why are you picking up on that one thing? You’re the one who said we wouldn’t get offended or anything.”

“I know you’re right. It’s just that—never mind. You’re also right about the sex thing.”

It was now Zyair’s turn to be offended. “Are you saying I don’t please you?”

“Are you saying I don’t please you?”

They just looked at one another, Champagne thinking of him straying, Zyair wondering how many orgasms she’s faked.

Champagne broke the silence. “You please me, Zyair. It’s just that we barely kiss, we barely touch. You just go right for the gusto.” Even when you do that, I’m not wet enough. And when you go down on me, you act like it’s not something you want to do. You just go straight for the clitoris. Whatever happened to licking around, tasting every inch of it? Champagne thought to herself. There was no way she was going to say that part out loud.

Zyair frowned. “The reason we don’t kiss is because you turn your head. The reason we don’t touch is because you’re always tired. And the reason I always go for the gusto is because I thought that’s what you wanted.” Plus, you barely suck my dick. I feel like I have to force-feed you, and when you take it upon yourself you just lick it and put the head in. You don’t devour it like you used to.

“I guess we’re both to blame for what’s happened to us.” Champagne tried to recognize.

“Yeah, I guess we are. So the question remains, what are we going to do about it?”

Champagne cleared her throat. “I have some suggestions.”

“Go ahead.”

“Let’s make one day a week our date night. We have to do something together outside the house, something we normally wouldn’t do.”

“Like?”

“Take dance lessons, go to a play. We haven’t done that in a while. Let’s try a new restaurant. We almost always eat at yours, which isn’t a bad thing but a change would be nice. We could play games, maybe even do things with other couples.”

“Other couples like who?” Neither of them knew many.

“Alexis and whoever she’s dating.” Which, at the time was, no one.

Zyair frowned. He liked Alexis and all but she acted holier-than-thou, always talking about, “the Lord this, and the Lord that.” Don’t get him wrong, he believed in God and even attended church occasionally, but he just felt like she went overboard.

Besides, he didn’t feel like hearing the when-are-you-two-going-to-get-married question. He was ready but it seemed like Champagne wasn’t. And he couldn’t pressure her because when she was ready for marriage he wasn’t.

“We can do all those things. But why don’t we do something real wild and go to Hedonism?”

“Hedonism?” Champagne asked.

“Yep.”

“Isn’t that the all-nude resort?”

They had watched a special on it together. Zyair was ready to pack his clothes and go by the time the first commercial aired. He was afraid to say anything because he thought Champagne would ask him if he was crazy. His best friend Thomas went and said it was off the hook. People were fucking everywhere, and you could actually sit there and watch. Heck, some folks even let you join in. Now that he wasn’t too sure about, but the watching part he could get with.

Champagne surprised him by saying, “It does sound interesting. Let me think about it.”

“Are you serious? You’re really going to think about it?”

“Yes, but we also need to work on doing some of the things I suggested as well.”

The rest of the evening went without incident. Both of them felt a sense of relief about getting some things off their chest.

That night when they arrived home, Zyair made the effort to be romantic. While Champagne was in the shower, he dimmed the lights and tried to create a soft, seductive setting. He pulled out a bottle of wine, made a pallet of pillows near the fireplace and turned on some Luther. Then he went to join her.

Stepping into the bathroom, he asked, “Do you mind if I join you?”

Surprised, she told him, “Of course not.” Actually she was about to get out, but knew what he was trying to do and decided that, instead of pulling back, she would embrace this gesture.

A few seconds later, Zyair pulled back the doubled glass sliding door and took her in with his eyes. He loved what he saw.

Five years later, she was still beautiful, her skin flawless, smooth and tight, not an ounce of fat anywhere. How he could neglect her, he didn’t know. His woman possessed what most men desired. Not only was she smart, sexy, beautiful, and compassionate, but she was also self-aware and selfless. She was also body and health conscious.

He roamed her body with his eyes and appreciated it once again. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you. I’m going to start making it up to you from this day forward.” He got undressed and stepped in the shower.

“The same here.”

Champagne reached over with the washrag to rub his chiseled chest and washboard stomach. She teased him by moving her hands below his waist but stopped suddenly and said, “Turn around. Let me wash your back.”

“This isn’t supposed to be about me. This is supposed to be about you.” Zyair took the buffer and placed it to the side. He then took the lavender-scented body wash and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I love you, you know that, right?” He moved his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, letting the suds build up. “I can’t imagine not being with you.” He started massaging her nipples with the palms of his hands. “You’re my future wife.” He moved his hands down her stomach to her thighs, as the soap washed away, and got on his knees. “The mother of my children.” He pushed her knees apart and Champagne leaned against the wall, the water still running.

Zyair palmed her pussy. “Do you want me to kiss you here or on your lips first?”

Champagne looked down, lust in her voice. “Those lips.”

Zyair pulled her pussy lips apart and placed one of his fingers deep within her. “How’s this?”

Champagne nodded.

“I don’t understand that. Tell me, how’s this?” He took his finger out and stuck his tongue deep inside her, causing her legs to give.

“What about this?” He took his tongue out and started playing with her clitoris, flicking it back and forth, then licking it.

Champagne grabbed his head and tried to pull it into her pussy. “I thought you forgot about that.”

He looked up at her. “Let me do this my way. I don’t want you to tell me that I just go for the gusto ever again.”

“And I don’t want to have to tell you that.”

That night ended with a passion they both thought they wouldn’t get back. Maybe this would be the new beginning they both desired.

Champagne walked into her office, excited to start her day; only to find her boss, Charles Jackson, chilling in her space, behind her desk, like he belonged there. This irritated the hell out of her. She stopped in her tracks and started to curse his ass out but had to remind herself that him paying her was what paid her bills.

She loved her job. Maybe not where she worked and who she worked for, but she enjoyed doing what she did. She made people more famous than they already were. She came up with different ideas to do so, such as press conferences, dates with other stars, and magazine interviews. She also helped throw parties. Basically, she did what she had to do to get her clients more recognition.

In return she also received gifts, trips, and recognition, not to mention the friendships she developed with quite a few well-known actors, actresses, and singers.

Champagne started working for Jackson Publicity seven years ago as an assistant, and had worked her way up to becoming one of the top publicists. She would have gotten there even sooner, had she slept with her boss, who’d tried on numerous occasions, only to have her turn him down. But, like a true trooper, he wouldn’t give up.

“Champagne,” Charles Jackson said.

“Jackson,” Champagne replied. When she’d first started working there, she called him Mr. Jackson but he kept insisting that she call him Charles, which was too personal for her liking, especially after his advances. Tired of the back-and-forth banter in regards to his name, she finally settled on calling him Jackson. “Do you mind if I take my seat?” she asked in a tight tone that let him know she was annoyed.

“Oh, of course not.” He stood up and moved from behind her desk, brushing up against her in the process. She knew he did it on purpose and just wasn’t feeling it today. Actually she was getting tired of it. Champagne looked at him with contempt. “So, what can I do for you?” She wanted him to get to the point of his visit and out of her sight. She knew there was a point, because he didn’t come into her office often.

“Well, I’m getting you a partner.”

Champagne looked at him.

“What?” She’d heard him, but wanted him to repeat it. He knew she worked alone.

The other publicists had assistants and interns but she didn’t because she liked the flexibility of doing what she wanted, when she wanted, and not having to look over someone’s shoulder or have them look over hers.

“I said, I’m getting you a partner.”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t want a partner.”

“No, what you’ve said is that you don’t want an assistant; there’s a difference.”

“I don’t—” She was getting ready to say understand but decided not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

“The person’s name is Camille Ferguson, and she’ll start in one week. On your desk is her resume and an outline of what I want you to show her.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Champagne knew in her gut that if she’d slept with him at the last conference they attended, this shit wouldn’t be happening.

“Do you have a problem with my decision?” he taunted.

“Yes, Jackson, I do. I don’t think I have to tell you that.”

A month earlier, Champagne, Charles, and Tiffany Sweeps, one of the other women in the office, attended a Minority Business Conference in Washington, D.C., where they took a number of workshops and networked extensively. On the second night there, they joined a few other participants for drinks, and everyone got a little past tipsy.

Champagne knew this wasn’t kosher and decided to head back to her hotel room to get some rest. She told the others that she would catch up with them tomorrow.

“I’ll grab a taxi and head back with you,” Jackson said. “It’ll be my treat.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

Champagne thought nothing of it and accepted.

In the car, only a few words were exchanged. When they arrived at the hotel, she said good night and started heading toward her room, only to find Jackson following behind her.

She turned around. “Are you following me?”

“Yeah. I was hoping we could stay the night together.”

Jackson was less than a foot f