Up to No Good

Book 4: Church Series

by Carl Weber

Genres: African American

Synopsis

Carl Weber is the New York Times best-selling author of such bawdy, riotous novels as So You Call Yourself a Man and Baby Momma Drama. In Up to No Good, Weber demonstrates his storytelling panache and keen insight into his characters’ complicated lives.

Release date: August 7, 2012

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 400

Sample

“So, are you going to take me back to your place, or are we going to make Benny rich by running up a ridiculous bar tab?” Crystal whispered seductively.

Her eyes traveled over my body, stopping a little below my belt as she took a sip of her drink. This was her way of letting me know that she was ready. The next move was mine, and her body language was begging me to make it. She lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine as she put her drink on the bar. I smiled, giving her my own once-over. I couldn’t help but respond with a devilish grin as I placed my hand on the small of her back, high enough to be respectable but low enough to have an effect. She shuddered slightly under my touch, even though her face failed to give anything away.

We hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and probably wouldn’t see each other for another one, unless our son Darnel’s wife-to-be Keisha became pregnant in the next few months. Crystal had traveled back to New York from Richmond, Virginia, for Darnel’s wedding, which was tomorrow night. We’d met at Benny’s bar, one of our old neighborhood haunts, to catch up on old times after the rehearsal dinner.

“So?” she asked again, this time with a little more desperation in her voice. She wanted me. She wanted me bad. She wanted me to do what only I could do for her—satisfy that sexual itch that nobody else seemed able to reach. I know it sounds rather arrogant, but I’d been sleeping with this woman off and on for the better part of twenty-eight years, so I knew what she needed in the bedroom, just like she knew what I needed.

I glanced at her again. Even in a conservative pantsuit, she had a way of enticing me. Her face was a beautiful bronze color, highlighted by a beauty mark right above the left side of her lip. She’d gained a few pounds over the years, and her hair showed a hint of gray around the edges, but hell, whose didn’t? Besides, truth be told, I liked a woman with some meat on her bones and some mileage on her engine. Experience meant a lot in life, especially in the bedroom.

She turned her head slightly, exposing a small tattoo with the letters DB, our son’s initials, on the lower side of her neck. A memory of the way she cooed when I kissed her neck came to mind. Then I looked down at her chest, and the thought of her neck was quickly replaced with an image of her large, plump breasts and the silver-dollar nipples that rested atop them. My heart rate increased, and my breathing became heavier. It never mattered where I touched her; Crystal’s body was so sexually in tune with mine that I didn’t even have to take off my clothes to give her an orgasm. Oh, but when I did get undressed, she would return the favor like very few women I’d ever known. Having a child together bonded us, but it was the sex that kept us hungering for each other year after year.

She licked her lips, and my manhood sprang to life. I flicked my wrist so I could see the time on my watch. I was wondering if Crystal was planning on a quickie or one of our all-night marathons. I’d already canceled a date to meet with her, so an all-nighter with someone of her sexual prowess was fine by me. That, of course, left only one question.

“Where’s your husband?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

Crystal looked annoyed by my question. Yes, she was married, going on five years now, and she definitely preferred that I didn’t mention her husband when we were getting ready to get busy. We both knew that her marital status really wasn’t a factor in all this anyway. We’d played this game before, Crystal and I, through countless boyfriends and two husbands. She didn’t make any excuses for the fact that she was a woman who needed a man in her life. She always said that she would prefer it if that man were me, but after a while, she stopped holding her breath and moved on.

One thing was for sure, though: It didn’t matter who she was with. If we saw each other or had the chance to talk on the phone, it was never a question of if we were going to get together, but rather when and where it would happen.

“He had to work third shift. He’ll be here sometime early tomorrow morning.” Crystal slid off her bar stool and folded her arms as if to say, “So, come on. We got time, but we ain’t got all night.” I knew her well, and she was not about to take no for an answer. And as good as she was looking, I wasn’t about to give her an argument.

“Okay, but only if you’re going to respect me in the morning,” I teased.

She didn’t laugh. Instead, she came back with, “Please. You my baby daddy. I ain’t got to respect you.” Unfortunately, I knew she wasn’t joking, and her words stung like hell.

“You don’t?”

“Hell no. Everybody knows you ain’t shit, James. As much as I love our son, I should have never had a baby with you.” She’d been using this same line on me since Darnel was a baby, and now here he was, a grown man getting ready to get married and have babies of his own. Jesus, I was getting old.

“Then why do you want me to take you home? Why do you keep sleeping with me after all these years? You tryin’ to say you ain’t got no love for me?”

“Please, James. You broke my heart more times than I care to remember and in more ways than I will ever forget. I’d be a fool if I still had love for you.”

“If you ain’t got love for me, then why are you trying to sleep with me?”

“Good dick is hard to come by,” she said, like it was a simple fact of life that everyone understood. “And you’ve got some really good dick. Now, are you going to sit here and debate it, or are you gonna take me home and remind me why I rented a car and drove seven hours up here instead of waiting for my husband so we could drive together?”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. I slapped it down on the bar, nodding my head.

“You know me. Last thing I want is for anyone to make a seven-hour trip in vain,” I said with a laugh. The truth of her words could have deflated my desire for her, but I knew this was not an opportunity to waste on being overly sensitive or sentimental. Besides, I’d known this woman my entire adult life, and there wasn’t a thing she could say that I hadn’t heard at least a dozen times before. We were too far past that naïve stage to believe we’d ever be anything more than what we were today.

Crystal leaned in and kissed my full lips, then smiled as if I had just given her a large sum of money. The way she stared at me made my manhood grow, making it clear that I was the one about to hit the jackpot. In less than twenty minutes, we’d both be in my bed, as naked as the day we were born, making love like there was no tomorrow. And as it had always been between the two of us, there would be no tomorrow—only a here and now.

Five hours later, Crystal was snoring with a purpose, her back to my chest and her round hips and ass securely resting against my groin. I’d wake her up in about ten minutes for another round. She would have to leave after that in order to make it back to her hotel before her husband showed up. Part of me didn’t want her to leave, because I was having such a good time. I always had a good time when Crystal and I got together.

I stared at her face as I stroked her sweaty hair. We’d gone at it for the better part of an hour—twice. The way she called out my name and told me that this would always be her dick was definitely good for the ego. It also told me that after all these years, no matter what she said, she was still in love with me.

Crystal had sacrificed most of her adult years chasing after me. We’d met right after high school. I was far from being faithful, but she was as close to a steady girlfriend as I had during those days.

She looked out for me when no one else would, sometimes even when it wasn’t in her best interest. There wasn’t anything Crystal Jackson wouldn’t do for me. I knew that better than anyone on this earth, and the thing that haunted me the most was that she wanted only one thing in return: my love. But as much as I tried, I just couldn’t give it to her the way she wanted it.

Like most women, she wanted to be a wife much more than a girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong; I liked her, but I wasn’t having no part of getting married. I was having too much fun with all the other women in my life. Crystal, on the other hand, wouldn’t take no for an answer. As far as she was concerned, she was in love with me, and all I needed was a little coaxing to understand that I loved her too. She was so convinced of this that she got pregnant, hoping it would settle me down enough for us to get married. It didn’t. All it really made me do was act the fool even more. It was something I wished could have been changed, but I still had no regrets. I’d had a good life, a fun life. Why would I mess it up by getting married?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Huh?” She lifted her head. “What did you say?”

“Ah, nothing.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She rolled over to face me. “If you’re gonna kiss me, kiss me right.”

I smiled as I studied her face through the dim light that peeked between the curtains. She really was beautiful, and I’d never seen a woman age so well.

I pressed my lips against hers, and our kiss became passionate. My hands roamed her body hungrily. Just as she mounted me for another round, my bedroom door flew open and blinding light flooded the room.

Crystal dove under the covers to hide her nakedness.

“What the—” I shouted, squinting my eyes to adjust to the bright light as I saw what looked like a woman standing in my doorway. In that brief moment, my mind went into overdrive, trying to understand who had just broken into my house. It could have been one of any number of women I’d been seeing over the past few months—but most likely the one I had broken a date with to meet Crystal. But how the hell had she gotten into my house?

The woman yelled, “I knew you was here with her!” and suddenly I knew who the intruder was. This wasn’t just any woman standing in my doorway. This was a woman I loved with all my heart, but when it came to me pursuing my love life, she could be described with only one word: trouble.

“Well, tomorrow’s the big day. You’re really gonna go through with it, aren’t you?”

I smiled, nodding my head at my best friend, Omar, as I slid my key into the door of my hotel room and pushed it open. We’d just left what was quite possibly the best bachelor party ever thrown, and we were both drunk. I plopped down on the first of two queen-sized beds while Omar stumbled toward the bathroom to relieve himself. I didn’t know about Omar, but I was tired, both mentally and physically drained from preparing for my big day tomorrow and from celebrating my last night as a single man with my boys.

Omar, who was my best man, had gone all out, inviting all our friends, along with six of the wildest strippers I’d ever seen. They were more like erotic circus performers than strippers, with all the contortions and tricks they showed us. Add them to the top-shelf liquor our friend Reggie supplied and Bam! One hell of a bachelor party.

“You know, Dee,” Omar slurred as he stood in the bathroom, “I never thought you’d really go through with it. I mean, I like Keisha and all, but . . .” He paused. I heard him say “Ahhhh,” followed by the sound of him relieving himself.

“Man, will you close the door? Don’t nobody wanna hear you peeing.” I loved Omar like the brother I never had, but he could really be disgusting sometimes. Some might even call him repulsive.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m done now.” He walked out of the bathroom with his zipper down and his pants hanging off his ass, exposing his plaid boxers. I didn’t bother to remind him to wash his hands, because, like I said, he could be a little raw.

“So, what were you saying about me getting married? You didn’t think I was gonna do it? Man, I been with that woman since I was fifteen years old. That pussy is bought and paid for. I ain’t got no choice but to marry her.” I tried to sound cool for Omar, but the truth was, I loved Keisha with all my heart.

“Yeah, I know that, and you been faithful to her since you was fifteen. But what I wanna know is, do you really want to die having been with only one woman?” His expression made it look as if he felt sorry for me. I hated that look.

“You act like me being faithful is a bad thing.”

This conversation was nothing new to me. Omar and my boys had always thought me strange because of my faithfulness to Keisha. The way they saw it, a man was supposed to get as much experience as he could with as many women as were willing to give it up. But I viewed things differently. I had given my virginity and pledged my faithfulness to Keisha, and I wasn’t about to hurt her by cheating with some woman who didn’t mean anything to me. My father had done that to my mother. I grew up seeing how deeply it affected her life and saw the hurt in her eyes over and over again, so I vowed never to do that to the woman I loved. It just wasn’t worth it to me.

“Nah, it ain’t a bad thing,” he conceded, “just unrealistic. Besides, with that chick Tia as her maid of honor, who knows what they’re doing across the street at her bachelorette party.” Omar sat down on the bed across from me with a strange look on his face—like he had something important to say but couldn’t find the words. He was starting to piss me off. “Dee, I heard Tia hired male strippers for Keisha’s bachelorette party. Who knows what Keisha could be—”

I cut him off right there. “Look, bro, Keisha ain’t Tia, just like I’m not you! You got that?”

“You think our strippers had big titties? Can you imagine how big those male strippers’ dicks are? Stretch that tight little pussy right on out.”

Omar was my boy, but he was really pushing the limit tonight. “You’re drunk, so I’m gonna ignore that. But, O, you better check yourself,” I warned him.

He laughed, but I wanted him to understand that I was serious. The night before my wedding was not the time for him to be disrespecting my fiancée like this. I loved that woman more than I loved myself.

“I’m just saying . . . do you really think you’re the only guy Keisha has ever been with?”

I stood up and pointed my finger in his face. “Best friend or not, don’t come out your face like that about her again or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what? Man, sit your ass down.” He laughed. “What you gonna do, fight your best man for trying to get you some pussy the night of your bachelor party?” He shook his head.

I let out an aggravated sigh. “O, I don’t know why you gotta disrespect me before my wedding.”

He was still smiling, but he had stopped laughing. I think he could finally see that I was upset. “Yo, Dee, I’m sorry, man. I meant no disrespect, but—”

“You need to shut that drunk-ass mouth of yours, then.”

“You right, I’m drunk,” he admitted, still smiling at me. “And maybe I should be quiet. But just remember, drunk people usually tell the truth. So I’m telling you, Darnel, you need to get some ass before you get married. I could set it up like that.” He snapped his fingers.

I was amazed at how persistent Omar was. He knew damn well that Keisha was my life, so he was wasting his time trying to convince me to cheat on her.

I lay down on the bed. “Can’t do it, buddy. I’m a one-woman man.”

“You wasn’t such a one-woman man when that stripper was giving you that lap dance in the corner, were you?” Omar’s smile widened. “I saw the way you was trying to hide your hard dick once she got off of you.” He imitated my actions, crossing his arms casually over his lap.

I turned my head away so he wouldn’t see my smirk. I had indeed been turned on by the honey-colored stripper who called herself Destiny. She had coaxed me into a lap dance when I thought everyone was watching the other strippers do tricks. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. But that still didn’t mean I wanted to have sex with her.

“You saw that, huh?” I said.

“Yeah, I saw it. So did half the other brothers in the room.”

“Jesus Christ.” I was so embarrassed.

“What’s wrong with you? It was a fuckin’ bachelor party, Dee. What? Your dick not supposed to get hard when a fine-ass naked woman sits on your lap? I’d be worried if it didn’t.” Omar smiled as he tried once again to tempt me to get laid by another woman on the night before my wedding. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off that fine-ass honey the rest of the night, could you?”

“You just don’t understand. Keisha is my soul mate. I’m not supposed to be attracted to any other woman that way. I made a promise, and I’m keeping it.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Omar paced back and forth like a lawyer delivering a passionate closing argument. “I mean, I appreciate that being faithful shit, but you take it to another level. You need to have some fun, Dee.”

I didn’t have a chance to answer him, because his cell phone rang. He must have been expecting the call, because suddenly his eyes lit up and he looked really excited. He answered the phone in a hurry and took it into the bathroom. Unlike when he used the toilet before, this time he closed the door behind him.

He came out about five minutes later, smiling.

“Yo, I’m about to hook up with one of them strippers. Her friend Destiny asked about you. She wanted to know if you wanted to hang.” He looked at me eagerly. “This is your last opportunity, man.”

“Nah, you go. I’m gonna chill out right here and get some rest. I got a big day ahead of me.”

“Whatever.” Omar shook his head, looking very disappointed in me as he headed for the door. “If you change your mind, give me a call.”

“I won’t,” I assured him.

Once he was gone, I pulled out my cell and dialed Keisha’s number. She answered on the second ring with a sweet, “Hello.” I loved her voice. I know it sounds corny, but it was like music to my ears. I can’t even begin to explain how much I loved this woman.

“Hey, babe,” I greeted her. I was lying on my side, remembering how beautiful she looked tonight at the rehearsal dinner. I couldn’t wait to make her my wife.

“Hey, boo.” She sounded excited to hear from me. “You still at the bachelor party?”

“Nah, I’m in the room, bored and lonely.”

“Oh, my poor baby.” She was using this cute little-girl voice. “Don’t worry. After tomorrow, you don’t ever have to be lonely again.”

“I like the sound of that. So what you doing?”

“I’m about to leave the bar and go up to my room. Tia done found her some man.”

“Figures,” I replied. “Hey, want some company?”

“I’d love some . . . tomorrow night.” She chuckled. “I know what you’re up to, Mr. Black. You ain’t gettin’ none until after the wedding. Besides, you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

Keisha had been holding out on me for the past three weeks. We shared an apartment together, but she’d been making me sleep in the guest room, telling me some crap about I’d appreciate it more if we waited until after the wedding. As horny as I was the past few days, I was deeply regretting the fact that I’d actually agreed to our mini-celibacy.

“Okay, okay. I guess I’ll go see if I can find my other best friend.”

“I just saw Omar and some woman leaving the hotel.”

“It was probably that stripper he was going to meet.”

“Maybe. Look, baby, I’m about to get in the elevator. If I lose the signal, I’ll call you back.”

“Nah, it’s a’ight, babe. You go ’head. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you, Mrs. Black.”

“I love you, too, Mr. Black. Good night.” I could hear her smiling through the phone. She loved it when I called her Mrs. Black.

“Night, babe.” I hung up the phone, fiending for my woman. I just wanted to be near her. Hell, I would have settled for a kiss and a hug.

One long, lonely hour later, I found myself wishing that I had gone with Omar—not to have sex with that woman Destiny or anything, but just to get out of the room. I was so keyed up. When I first got to the room, I was dead tired, but after talking to Keisha, anxiety set in and I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was think of her and the wedding. Was everything going to be all right? Were the limos going to pick us up on time? Was the reception going to be decorated the way we wanted? Was Omar going to get back from screwing that woman on time? Were my father and stepfather going to get along? There were so many things running through my mind.

Whenever I had nights like this, when I had too much on my mind, Keisha was always the one who could soothe me and help me fall asleep. If I could just get one kiss, I thought, I could make it through the night. One kiss was all I wanted. Never mind all that “bad luck to see the bride” stuff; I decided to go surprise my future wife.

I got out of bed, still feeling the effects of the alcohol. I wasn’t as bad as when I had first got back to the room, but I was still drunk.

I staggered to the elevator, punched the DOWN button, and rode to the lobby. Fortunately, I wasn’t so drunk that the lady at the front desk would give me a hard time. I told her that I had lost my key to the wedding suite. The truth was that Keisha was staying there alone tonight, and we would be there together after the wedding. But the desk clerk didn’t need to know those details. As long as the name on my driver’s license matched the name on the reservation, she was happy to give me a duplicate key card.

“Congratulations,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks,” I answered as I grabbed a handful of mints and headed back to the elevator. As I rode up to the twentieth floor, I popped a few mints in my mouth to mask the smell of alcohol on my breath. Keisha hated when I was drunk.

I couldn’t wait to see her. Maybe if I played my cards right, I would get more than a kiss.

When I got to the suite, I slid the card in the door and walked into the living room. The lights were out, and I didn’t see any reason to turn them on as I walked from the living room into the bedroom. There were enough bright city lights coming through the space between the curtains for me to see everything I needed to. And what I saw was my worst nightmare come true.

On the bed, lying naked on her stomach, was Keisha. Now, normally that wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but lying on top of her was Omar. That’s right, Omar. The same Omar who was supposed to be my best friend and the best man in my wedding tomorrow, the same Omar who had tried his damnedest to get me to cheat on Keisha, was now screwing her from behind. Oh, and was he having a good old time, too, pumping away like there was no tomorrow. Unfortunately for him, there would be no tomorrow, because I was going to kill him.

Like someone hit by lightning, anger struck me. I sobered up completely within a matter of seconds. Before I could think, I took three long steps across the room, grabbed the ceramic lamp off the night table, and smashed it as hard as I could into Omar’s head. The lamp shattered as Omar rolled off Keisha, screaming in pain.

I turned my attention to Keisha, and for a moment, time stopped. It was like our entire relationship flashed before my eyes. I saw our first date, our first kiss, the first time we made love, the prom, our apartment, the day I proposed, the last time we made love, the rehearsal dinner earlier tonight, and now her lying in front of me. I don’t know how my eyes must have looked, but Keisha began pleading, “Don’t get crazy, Darnel. This is not what it seems.”

I couldn’t help myself. I slapped the shit outta her. “It’s not? ’Cause it sure as hell seems like you fuckin’ my best friend.” I slapped her again, then turned to Omar.

“I’m sorry, man,” Omar whimpered.

I looked down at his dick, and rage filled my entire being. “Motherfucker, you ain’t even wearing a condom!”

I lunged at him and started whaling on his ass. I beat him fiercely, kicking him in the face and trying to stomp his fucking guts out.

“I thought you was my boy,” I kept repeating with every punch I delivered. My blows fell into some kind of rhythmic pattern: Fist, fist, kick, kick. Fist, fist, kick, kick. “I thought you was my dog, and you gon’ do me like this? Fuck my girl without a condom? I ain’t even fucked her without a condom. Oh, hell naw. I’ma kill you!”

Omar never returned any blows. I guess he knew he was wrong, or else he was just too hurt to muster a defense. He covered his head the best he could, but I was relentless in my fury.

I could feel Keisha trying to pull me off. “Stop, Darnel! You’re going to kill him!”

“Bitch! Get the fuck off, you fuckin’ ho!” I was so full of adrenaline that I threw her across the room with barely any effort. Then I returned to Omar.

I couldn’t stop beating O until I got all my venom out. I’ve never known such pure hate. And pain. Yes, I was in just as much pain as I’m sure Omar was. I wanted him to feel my agony, to know that what he did had crossed the boundaries of human decency. It reminded me of when I was a little boy and my mom would whoop me and say, “This hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

I saw Omar’s nose gushing bright red blood, and his eyes were blackened and swollen. He was bleeding from his mouth. I think he was trying to say, “I’m sorry,” but I didn’t care. I already knew he was sorry. He was a sorry excuse for a friend and a man; that’s what he was.

Keisha must have called security, because two men in blue uniforms came out of nowhere and pulled me off Omar. It took both of them to get me loose from him.

Finally, I relented and stopped kicking his ass. “Let me go. I’m cool.”

I slammed my foot on the brakes, cursing under my breath when I spotted his Lexus parked in the driveway. Behind it was one of those compact cars that car-rental companies have hundreds of. I had a good idea who had parked it there too.

I’d been calling his ass for the better part of two hours, both on his house phone and cell phone, but got no answer at either. Whenever that happened, it was pretty much guaranteed that he was with some woman. And now that I saw the cars in the driveway, I knew that they were in there, in his bed.

He is so fucking predictable.

I sighed and reached into the glove compartment for the set of keys to his house. I’d made them last month when he let me borrow his Lexus while my car was in the shop. I’d had my own se. . .