Krista scoffed. “I have nothing to hide, sweetie. I have a good man. And I’m not the one being deprived of—”

  Brenda’s head jerked over at LaQuandra. “Wait a minute,” she said, cutting Krista off. “Did I hear you right, girl? You haven’t had a dick-down in months?”

  LaQuandra reached for her drink, then took a long sip. She swished the potent fruity elixir around in her mouth, allowing it to soak her tongue, before she slowly swallowed.

  And then she finally answered, “It feels like years.”

  Brenda’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Girrrrrrl, say it ain’t so.” She shook her head. “Ohmygod. I wish Roselle would try some shit like that with me. His ass would be put out. No damn way I’ma have a husband, laying up in the same bed with me, and his ass isn’t putting it down in them sheets.”

  LaQuandra sighed, and then took another sip of her drink, only this time the concoction felt too thick to swallow. She spat it back into her glass, then set it back down in its holder. “Well, welcome to my world. Now enough about me and my honey-hole.” LaQuandra looked back over at Krista. “Back to you, Krissy. How about you tell us, why you ran up outta the club the other night?”

  “No—no, sweetie.” Krista turned her head in LaQuandra’s direction again, peering at her over the rim of her shades. “How about you tell us who your husband’s screwing, since he isn’t screwing you.”

  Brenda nearly choked on her tongue.

  Work, bitch, work!

  Thirty-Six

  Krista couldn’t stop looking. No matter how many times she dragged her stare away, her eyes landed right back on Nairobia perched on the lap of a caramel-coated man with a neatly trimmed goatee and a beautiful bald head. He’d been on the plane ride over—one of the flight attendants, but Krista couldn’t remember his name. Darn. It was going to annoy her that she couldn’t remember it.

  But she remembered that handsomely rugged face. She never forgot a face, even if she couldn’t remember a name. And now she sat here wondering why she’d taken this particular seat. Why hadn’t she chosen the seat on the other side of the table? No, no. Everything happened for a reason. Had she’d not taken this chair, Kendall would have been sitting here instead, ensnared by temptation in a see-through dress and heels. It was in this chair, from this vantage point, that Krista could see her—salaciously luring her prey into her web of seduction.

  Nairobia stroked the bald man’s head while conversing with him and . . . Sin (of course Krista would never forget a name like that when that was all she was surrounded by.) Sin. He sat on the same love seat next to the other man. What in the world was his name?

  Saint. Yes, yes. That was it.

  Saint.

  But there was nothing saintly about the way he was caressing the side of Nairobia’s right breast over the flimsy fabric of her tangerine gown. And there was nothing saintly about the way he was nibbling on her neck. Krista shuddered. The porn-star whore was holding court right out in the open—well, partially open, since she was the only one able to see them—without a care in the world.

  The couples were dining on seaweed salad, oysters, caviar, shrimp, lobster tails, calamari, coconut chicken, and curried pork. Then various fish dishes followed. And while everyone else made sounds of delight over their chattering as they ate their meals, Krista’s gaze was riveted back to the scene playing right in front of her eyes. Saint now had Nairobia’s left breast out, rolling her nipple between his fingers, while Sin’s hand slowly eased up the slit of her gown.

  The shameless hussy was turning the star-lit evening out on the roofed platform, overlooking the ocean, into her own sexual playground. Nairobia threw her head back when Sin’s hand reached between her legs, and he cupped her there, his fingers finding her clit. Krista watched on as his hand moved methodically beneath Nairobia’s gown, and then she jerked her eyes away.

  Dr. Dangerfield caught the direction of Krista’s roaming eye, and smiled over the rim of her martini glass, before taking a sip.

  “Mrs. Evans,” Dr. Dangerfield said, “how’s your meal?”

  Krista cast her a quick look. “Fine. Everything’s good.” And it was, if only she could focus on her plate instead of Nairobia. She was over there, partially hidden, in the throes of passion as Sin fingered her and Saint caressed her exposed breasts—together, bringing her to orgasm, while the rest of the couples engaged in laughter and chatter.

  Krista’s gaze drifted back over to the devil in heels and her two playmates.

  Sin’s hand appeared from beneath Nairobia’s dress, and then his fingers were in his mouth, before sharing them with her.

  Krista suddenly felt flush.

  Nairobia said something, and both men laughed. And then Sin reached over and smoothed his hand up and down her leg while Saint’s hands were now loosely clasped around her hips. It was obvious she held both men’s attention, even after they’d fondled and fingered her. And judging by the way they were both enthralled by her, she’d probably have them both in her bed later in the evening—for a long night of fucking.

  Krista frowned at the thought, but quickly averted her eyes back to her dinner plate when Nairobia’s gaze caught hers and she licked over her lips.

  Krista reached for her napkin and then covered her mouth and coughed.

  “Babe, you okay?” Kendall asked, giving her a concerned look.

  Krista reached for the glass of water that had been set in front of her and took several large gulps. She dabbed her napkin at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, yes. I’m fine.” She placed a hand to her chest. Then cleared her throat. “Something caught in my throat.” This time she took a slower, smaller sip.

  “Krissy, you all right over there,” LaQuandra asked in between bites of her swordfish. All she needed was a basket of Red Lobster’s cheddar bay biscuits and she’d be in heaven. “Why you over there all quiet?”

  Krista ignored her.

  LaQuandra laughed.

  “Girl, leave Krista alone,” Brenda said, reaching over and wiping the corners of Roselle’s mouth with her thumb. “Krista, you know I got your back, girl.”

  Krista offered her a smile. “Thanks.” And then her eyes went to Kendall as he ate one smoked oyster after the other. “Since when you like oysters?” she asked. All the years they’d been together, she’d never known him to (or seen him) eat a molluscan shellfish.

  Kendall shrugged. “Felt like trying something different. You know. Step outside my comfort zone for a change. Wanna try it?”

  Krista blinked. His snide comment hadn’t gone unnoticed. And yet she wondered if he were talking about trying an oyster or hanging upside down from a ceiling.

  Kendall speared a smoked oyster and then reached over and offered it to her. Krista looked at his fork before opening her mouth. Kendall slid the fork into her mouth, and Krista nearly gagged as she chewed the mollusk.

  She coughed into her napkin, discreetly spitting it out, before excusing herself to use the restroom, but not before glancing over to find Nairobia and her two conquests gone. Clearly, the skank’s propensity for threesomes would include those two.

  “I’ll be right back,” Krista quickly said, standing to her feet.

  Kendall nodded, and then looked up at the servers who returned to the table with yet another platter. And more drinks. Everyone was intoxicated enough; more rounds would more than likely seal their fates of having to crawl out of here, Kendall mused as he accepted another glass.

  “It is almost time for dessert, no?”

  Kendall blinked in the beautiful sight of Nairobia, and he found himself nearly speechless, as she stood before him in her form-fitting gown. Beneath the light, filmy fabric, Nairobia wore a bejeweled thong.

  All chatter ceased.

  “You are all enjoying yourselves, no?”

  Everyone agreed; the women over smiles, the men over grins, their eyes dancing up and down the curves of her body, fantasizing, lusting, wanting.

  “Good.” With drink in hand, Nairobia called, “A toast.” She paused, glancing down at Kendall. “Wait. Where is your . . . lovely wife?”

  “Restroom,” Kendall said sheepishly.

  “I wait for her, no?”

  Kendall shook his head. “No. You’re good.”

  “Krissy’s ass ain’t drinking, anyway,” LaQuandra stage-whispered over at Brenda.

  “Girl, stop,” Brenda said, biting back a laugh. “Behave.”

  “Very well,” Nairobia said. And then she lifted her glittering crystal glass. “To passion, and the heated pleasures that it brings.”

  “To passion,” everyone said, raising their drinks. LaQuandra rolled her eyes at Isaiah as she downed her drink. He shook his head. Drunk-ass, he thought as he decided not to monitor her drinking. As long as she didn’t try to start her shit, Isaiah was fine with her stumbling around, making a fool of herself.

  Nairobia’s eyes landed on Kendall. “I will entertain you while your wife freshens up, no?”

  “Uh, sure,” he stammered, trying to keep his gaze from peering at her jeweled crotch. He shifted in his chair as Nairobia smiled at him, pulling out Krista’s now empty chair and sliding her voluptuous ass onto its seat.

  “Um, excuse us, ladies and gentlemen,” Brenda said as she rose from her chair. “My man and I have a date down on the beach.” She shimmied her shoulders. “So if you all don’t mind. We’re out. C’mon, baby.”

  Roselle hopped up from his seat. “You ain’t gotta tell me twice.” He gave Isaiah a fist bump, then put his fist to his chest at Kendall, who did the same.

  “Their fire still runs hot for each other,” Nairobia said as she eyed Roselle. She circled the rim of her glass with one delicate finger and Kendall found himself wondering what her finger would taste like in his mouth.

  He quickly shook the thought. And then chuckled. “Yeah. They can’t seem to keep their hands off of one another.”

  Dr. Dangerfield smiled. And then she stood as well. “Nairobia . . . lady”—she glanced over at LaQuandra—“and gentlemen, it’s been a long night. I am retiring. Mr. Evans . . . give Ms. Evans my regards when she returns.”

  He nodded. “Will do.”

  Nairobia held up her glass. “Good night, my darling. You’ll find gifts waiting for you at your villa when you arrive.” A sly smile eased over her lips. “Enjoy.”

  Dr. Dangerfield caught the glint of mischief in her eyes and smiled. “Oh, I’m sure I will.” She said her goodbyes, then sauntered off, leaving LaQuandra, Isaiah, and Kendall in the company of Nairobia.

  “Isaiah, you wanna go down to the beach?” LaQuandra asked sweetly. The moon was bright, the stars were twinkling overhead, and the alcohol flowing through her veins was pooling between her legs. And her pussy was soaked in heated need.

  Isaiah gave her a look, and then frowned. “Nah. I’m good right here.”

  “You sure?” she asked with pleading eyes.

  Isaiah felt Nairobia’s gaze on him, and then solemnly shook his head. He sighed. “A’ight. C’mon.” He gulped back his drink, then stood. He decided LaQuandra could suck him off while he fantasized about having his dick balls-deep inside Nairobia.

  It was the least she could do—for being such a whiny, nagging bitch.

  LaQuandra reached over for Dr. Dangerfield’s glass and then drained the rest of what was left of her drink, before giving Nairobia and Kendall a two-finger wave. “Nite-nite,” she said. And then she followed Isaiah toward the winding stairs that descended down to the beach.

  “There is no love in his eyes for her,” Nairobia stated once they were no longer in earshot. “She has drained him, empty.”

  “Wow,” Kendall said as he regarded her. God. She was fine, he thought. And Kendall felt like a horny adolescent boy sitting here with a hard-on. “What do you see when you look at Krista and me?”

  Nairobia regarded him thoughtfully. “I see a man full of sexual energy, a man full of passion and hot need . . .”

  Kendall blushed. “And my wife, Krista?”

  Nairobia feigned a yawn. “She’s a bore, my darling. She will never surrender to your desires, or her own.”

  Kendall didn’t know if he should laugh or shrink in his seat at her honest assessment. “Is there hope? For any of us?”

  Nairobia’s gray eyes bore into him. “There is hope for those who believe in what they have, my love.” And then with a lazy grin, Nairobia dipped her forefinger into her glass and stirred her drink, then sucked it between her lips, causing Kendall to nearly groan.

  “Do you believe, my darling?” Nairobia asked.

  Kendall gave a slight shrug. He didn’t know what to believe anymore. “Sometimes,” he said. Damn. The drinks. He hadn’t really meant to say that. Or had he?

  Nairobia licked over her lips. “Good loving does not exist in your life, no?”

  “I-I, well . . .”

  Kendall attempted to rise to his feet when he spotted Krista walking in, but stopped himself. “I was wondering what happened to you. We were just talking about you,” he said as he quickly sat back in his chair.

  “Oh?” I seriously doubt that. “Is that so,” Krista said as she walked around the table to him, looking around. “Where’d everyone go?” She’d been gone no more than ten minutes, if that, and somehow Nairobia had managed to clear out the whole rooftop, leaving Kendall in her clutches. Krista pulled out the chair beside him and sat.

  “Down on the beach,” Kendall answered, wrapping an arm loosely around the back of her chair. He scooted his chair up a bit, just in case Krista felt compelled to cut an eye down into his lap.

  Krista looked over at Nairobia, and fought to keep a sneer from forming over her face as she took in her cleavage on open display, enticing anyone who dared to look. “Thanks for entertaining my husband while I was gone.” She leaned into Kendall—a bit possessively, and then flashed her a slight smile.

  “My pleasure,” Nairobia said seductively. “I live for pleasing, my darling.”

  “Oh. I am sure you do,” Krista said snidely. “Now what was it the two of you were talking about? Me?”

  “Baby, she wanted to know how long we’d been married,” Kendall lied, before taking his glass and draining it. “And if we had any children.”

  Krista felt the pounding of her heart in her chest. What was this bitch up to? “Yes. Happily married. And, hopefully, a baby or two within the next year or so.” They’d been trying for four years with no luck. And Kendall had given up hope after the fourth false-pregnancy test. But Krista’s faith had told her to hold fast for a baby would soon be hers.

  Nairobia’s heart-shaped lips curled into a grin. “Happiness, my darling, is sometimes an illusion.” She slipped off one heel, then stretched her bare foot toward Kendall’s leg.

  Nairobia made contact with Kendall’s inner thigh, just above his left knee. Kendall coughed, his body tensing, but he didn’t give her away, just cast her a gaze as his arm went around Krista’s shoulder.

  Krista’s brow rose. “Meaning?”

  Kendall’s lips parted. And then his breaths came quick as Nairobia’s foot inched closer and closer to his dick. He squeezed Krista’s shoulder. And Krista took that to mean for her to play nice.

  “No, Ken,” she said. “I want to know what she meant by that?”

  Higher, higher . . .

  Ah, yes. Right there.

  Nairobia’s foot made contact. Hard and thick, bulging. Kendall’s breath caught, causing his chest to go still.

  Nairobia grinned. “Tell me, my darling,” she said to Krista as she rubbed the ball of her foot along the length of Kendall’s bulge. She licked over her lips when his dick pulsed beneath her foot. “Have you ever wished you could step outside of yourself—for a night . . .?”

  Nairobia pressed deeper into Kendall’s dick, causing it to throb harder in response, the crown dampening with pre-cum. Her nipples tightened, and she shamelessly arched her back and allowed her breasts to protrude further out.

  Even as Kendall’s eyes glazed over with lust, he felt his lids going heavy. “Ah, shit,” he wanted to groan out as he fought the tingling sensation Nairobia’s foot rub caused over his linen pants. Now he wished he’d worn a pair of baggy shorts and a pair of boxer briefs instead of his silk boxers. Nairobia stroked Kendall from base to head

  “. . . and allow temptation to guide your desires?” And then she spoke in her native tongue. “Om te geven in plezier . . .?”

  Krista gave her a blank look.

  “To give into pleasure, my love?”

  Krista scoffed. “Um, absolutely not. I do not find pleasure in sin.”

  Kendall felt himself going lightheaded, his free hand gripping the side of his chair.

  “Then you, my darling, have truly not lived,” Nairobia said, lowering her foot and slipping her heel back on. Nairobia feigned another yawn, though she’d now grown thoroughly bored to tears by Krista’s presence. She rose. The universe held no promise of seduction for the two of them.

  “I will leave the two of you to the rest of your evening.”

  And, as quickly as she’d appeared, Nairobia vanished.

  “The devil is busy,” Krista said, her heart nearly pounding in her ears.

  Kendall let out a long breath, then filled his lungs with air. “C’mon, babe, why don’t we go roll around on the sand?” He leaned into her and nibbled on her neck.

  Krista twisted in her chair. “Mm. No. I’m not rolling around down on no beach. I don’t want sand in this weave, or getting stuck all up in my ass.”

  Kendall shook his head, his hard dick quickly deflating.

  Thirty-Seven

  Dr. Dangerfield had been greeted by Nairobia’s mysterious gift—Sin, Saint and Soul—the moment she stepped inside her villa.

  Her breath caught.

  Her cunt grew wet from the sight of the three sex gods standing in the middle of the room, naked, playing with their dicks, waiting on her with smiles on their faces.