Krista scoffed. “Oh really? The one night I don’t suck your damn dick to your liking, and all of a sudden, you’re not satisfied. Really, Kendall?”

  Kendall shook his head. “Giving me—your man—head should be something you enjoy, Kris, because you know it pleases me. But—no, you’d rather put minimal effort into it. Anything I ever ask of you is always faced with resistance. Always. So no. I’m not satisfied, Krista. Most times than not.”

  Krista blinked.

  Had she heard him right?

  That sometimes he wanted more when she had sex with him regularly; even when she didn’t feel like it. Why? Because that was one of her wifely duties, to keep her man well fucked. What was so basic about that? Mmph. And he sat here and had the audacity to tell her that he wasn’t satisfied.

  Krista’s eyes narrowed as she absorbed his words. Shock crested, then quickly morphed into anger. She felt like exploding, spewing out a string of expletives. Loud, colorful language to light his ass up good, but Krista wasn’t about to let the devil have his way with her tongue.

  Krista caught the eye of Dr. Dangerfield, and then disgust painted over her face. “Is that why you’d gotten so mad at me for not letting you shove your fingers into my ass?”

  Kendall sighed. “It was a thumb, Krista. Not fingers.”

  Krista huffed. “Same damn difference.”

  “And I didn’t get mad because of that,” Kendall corrected. “I got mad because of your attitude about sex. Anything I want to do sexually with you is a problem for you. If I want to give you oral sex, you complain about it. If I want to pull open your beautiful ass and look inside it, you have a problem with it. If I want to kiss you there, you think it’s dirty.”

  Krista felt the vein in the center of her forehead pulse. “Oh Kendall, get over yourself. Excuse me for not wanting you down between my legs snacking on my privates all damn night. If you want to lick me there, then lick me there and then be done with it. And, as far as my ass is concerned, I don’t want you sticking your fingers—oh excuse me, your thumb—in my ass. Period. Or your damn tongue.”

  Kendall let out a frustrated breath. “For Christ’s sake, Krista. But ever since you’ve gotten involved in the church again, you’ve changed.”

  Krista snarled, “Oh don’t you dare blame my getting saved on this bullshit, Kendall. I can love the Lord and love you too—and I do.”

  Kendall shook his head. “Then love me, Krista—all of me. And let me do the same.”

  “I do you love you, Kendall,” Krista snapped. “But if you think I am going to stop loving my relationship with the Lord too, then you have another thing coming.”

  Kendall sighed. “That’s not what I’m asking of you, Krista. You’re my damn wife. If I want to go down on you, let me. If I want to lick over your ass, let me. Damn. I love everything about you. All I’m asking is for you to be a little more open-minded; that’s it. I’m simply asking you to be more adventurous sexually with me, to open your mind a little more. I wanna explore new things with you, Kris.”

  “So ass licking is your new thing now, huh, Kendall?”

  Kendall pinned her with an intense stare. “Yes, Krista. I wanna lick your ass, sometimes. Damn.”

  Krista grunted. “First fingers and a tongue, then you’ll be wanting to stick your damn dick in it. No. There will never be any ass play going on in bed with me. Ever. So what other bitch’s ass have you been licking on, huh, Kendall?”

  Kendall frowned. “Are you hearing yourself right now, Krista, huh?”

  Dr. Dangerfield finally decided to interject. “Mrs. Evans, anal play—”

  “No,” Krista snapped, putting a finger up, stopping Dr. Dangerfield. “This is between me and my husband. I don’t need your interference. You’ve done enough meddling in my damn life.” Bitch.

  Dr. Dangerfield kindly swept a hand out, giving Krista the floor.

  “We’re here, Krista, because we need help.”

  “No,” she countered. “You need help, Kendall, if you think I’m about to let you do a bunch of freaky shit to me.”

  Kendall gave her an incredulous look. “And what is so freaky about me wanting to make love to my wife in every way imaginable, huh, Krista?”

  “I’m not having no man sticking his fingers in my ass. Period. Husband or not.”

  Kendall sighed again, and then he shook his head solemnly. “Baby, the fact that you can’t even see how rigid you are is sad. The fact that you don’t think you need any help is what’s even sadder.” Kendall gave her a pained look. “Anything that you deem inappropriate or that doesn’t fit into your narrow-minded world, you somehow manage to turn it into something negative. I masturbate. And I’m going to continue to masturbate—even after I sex you down. I wanna tongue you in every part of your body when I’m making love to you. Why? Because I love you, Krista, and it turns me on. And you should wanna keep me turned on. Me, Krista. Not some stranger in the streets. And yet you seem to have a problem with that?”

  Krista’s jaw clenched. She felt like slapping the shit out of him. But she quickly composed herself and said as she stood, “If you want some freak-ass whore, then go be with one.”

  Kendall gently grabbed her arm. “Again, you’re missing the point. I don’t want a whore out in the streets, Kris. What I want is for my wife to be my whore.”

  Krista felt herself shaking with fury. “Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, Kendall. But I’m not that wife.” She yanked her arm from his grasp. “I’m done here.”

  Dr. Dangerfield called out to her, “Mrs. Evans. Please. Don’t storm out. Let’s explore this further.”

  Krista shot her a furious glare. “How about you explore your own shit, instead of trying to destroy people’s marriages.”

  Kendall remained in his seat and watched in disbelief as Krista stormed out of the office. A few seconds ticked by before Kendall peeled his eyes from the now shut door.

  He looked over at Dr. Dangerfield and then said, “Now what?”

  Forty-One

  He was lying through his teeth. Then again, she had been too. They were both liars. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, LaQuandra knew he was lying, and all she wanted was for Isaiah to man-up, and finally admit that he was fucking that bitch.

  “Just say it, Isaiah,” LaQuandra insisted. “I know you’ve been screwing Cassandra.”

  Isaiah sighed. This bitch just wouldn’t let up. “You bugging, Quandra. Damn. Let it go. You hear me?” He pinned her with a hard stare and then shook his head. “I told you I’m not thinking about Cass, and you still wanna be on this dumb shit.”

  This was the couple’s fourth session with Dr. Dangerfield, and Isaiah had yet to admit to his cheating with his child’s mother. And he had no intentions of doing so.

  But LaQuandra was insistent and she had no intents of letting it go. But that didn’t matter because Isaiah’s answer was still—and always would be—no, no, no, and no.

  “Stop lying, Isaiah. I know you still fucking that crazy bitch.”

  The pot calling the kettle . . .

  Dr. Dangerfield shifted in her seat, pushing her decorative glasses up over the bridge of her nose. She didn’t know what was more draining: Krista’s rigid views on sex or LaQuandra’s ghetto-ass ramblings about her husband’s sexual proclivities—real or imagined—with his child’s mother.

  And between the two of them, Dr. Dangerfield felt like she was in Hell’s Kitchen.

  Isaiah sighed. This shit was so draining. Toxic. And he was slowly beginning to reach the end of his rope before he snapped.

  Dr. Dangerfield caught the way Isaiah’s jaw tightened, and yet he kept his eyes fixed on LaQuandra, not once shifting them when he denied her allegations.

  Dr. Dangerfield wasn’t completely convinced that he was being truthful, but his credibility wasn’t for her to decide.

  “Well, I want you to take a lie detector test,” LaQuandra stated firmly.

  Isaiah gave her an incredulous look. “A what?”

  “You heard me,” she snapped. “If you aren’t sleeping with that whore, then prove it. Take the test.”

  “Man, fuck outta here,” Isaiah said angrily. “I’m not taking that shit. You take one.”

  LaQuandra blinked. “And what the hell would I need to take one for, huh, Isaiah?”

  “So we can see how many lies you’ve told, since you wanna be on lie patrol.”

  LaQuandra frowned. “Motherfucker, I’m not the one fucking that slutty-bitch, you are!”

  “Fuck outta here.” Isaiah snorted as he stared at her. “And I keep telling you ’bout calling her out her name.”

  Anger seized LaQuandra. She jerked around in her seat and faced Isaiah, trying to keep her temper in check. “But you let that bitch disrespect me. Fuck you, Isaiah!”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lewis,” Dr. Dangerfield interjected. “Let’s take a moment to calm down. Dirty fighting accomplishes nothing.” She paused, and then calmly stated, “It is very clear that this is a very painful topic for you, Mrs. Lewis. And I understand your hurt. Believe me. I do. But from where I am sitting, this seems to be an issue that will have no clear resolution.” She looked at Isaiah. “Mr. Lewis, you insist that there is no romantic or sexual involvement between you and your son’s mother, is that correct?”

  Isaiah shifted in his seat. “Yeah. I already said that.”

  LaQuandra sucked her teeth, and then rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  Dr. Dangerfield turned her attention to LaQuandra. “And you, Mrs. Lewis, are insistent that there is something going on between the two.”

  “Because there is,” LaQuandra spat. “I’m not stupid.”

  “Then why the fuck are you still with me, huh, Quandra?” Isaiah growled, pinning her with a burning stare. “Since you already have it all figured out in that fucked-up head of yours that I’m still fucking Cass, then why the fuck are you still in my face, huh? Riddle me that shit.”

  LaQuandra scoffed. She had no immediate answer for that, and yet she managed to push out, “Don’t try to play head games with me, Isaiah. Admit the shit, so we can move on from it.”

  Isaiah snorted. “Yeah, okay. We’ll never move on from this shit, Quandra. And you know it. Anything that has to do with my son’s mother is always gonna be a problem with you and you know it.”

  “Mrs. Lewis, have you asked your husband’s—Miss Simms, right out if she’s sexually involved with your husband?”

  LaQuandra made a face. “For what? The thot has told me in so many words that she’s still screwing him; even as we were boarding the plane that bitch couldn’t wait to let it be known that she had her ass spread out over his face the night he dropped his son off.”

  Isaiah sucked his teeth. “Man, fuck outta here. That’s bullshit. I was nowhere near her ass.” Just her pussy. He shook his head. “She be sayin’ shit just to fuck with you.”

  LaQuandra tilted her head and twisted her lips

  Dr. Dangerfield decided it was time to put this dead horse down once and for all. She was exhausted from LaQuandra’s obsession with this Cassandra woman, and she wanted to get it all out in the open once and for all.

  So . . .

  LaQuandra’s nose flared. “You need to check her, and let that bitch know her place.”

  Dr. Dangerfield cleared her throat. “Mrs. Lewis, say—for argument’s sake, that Mr. Lewis did admit to his indiscretions with his son’s mother, then what? What does that do for you? And how does that knowing then affect your marriage?”

  LaQuandra blinked. She hadn’t really considered that Isaiah might actually confess his sins, nor had she considered what might happen if he did.

  “I just wanna know.”

  “And then what?” Dr. Dangerfield pushed gently.

  LaQuandra slumped in her seat, slowly shaking her head. She honestly didn’t know. “I just want the truth. That’s it.”

  Isaiah huffed. “Damn, Quandra. I already told you the truth. And you still don’t believe me.”

  “And why should I, Isaiah, when you’ve lied to my face before about fucking her? And then months later, that bitch comes banging on my door with an infant in her arms, telling me to say hi to my new stepson. And the only reason you couldn’t lie your way outta that shit is because the baby looked exactly like you.”

  LaQuandra turned from him, shifting in her seat so that her back was twisted toward him, fighting back tears she’d sworn she wouldn’t shed.

  Dr. Dangerfield wanted to muster up an ounce of sympathy for the woman, but she didn’t have it in her. “There are a lot of resentments here. And your wife is still hurting from the betrayal, Mr. Lewis.”

  Isaiah glanced over at LaQuandra. “I didn’t sleep with Cass or make lil’ Isaiah to hurt you, Quandra,” he said softly. “But I am sorry that it did.”

  LaQuandra closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. This was the first time that she’d heard Isaiah apologize to her and it sounded sincere.

  “Mrs. Lewis, can you look at your husband, please?” Dr. Dangerfield asked.

  LaQuandra turned in her chair and looked at him, her eyes narrowed slits of fury.

  “Little Isaiah is my heart, Quandra. And I don’t regret ever having him.”

  “I know he is, Isaiah,” LaQuandra admitted. “And you know how much I love him too. But I can’t help still seeing her in him. A life that you and her created, one that I wasn’t a part of.”

  “I know,” Isaiah said. “Don’t you think I wanted kids with you, huh, Quandra? Don’t you think I wanted to build a family with you? But it didn’t happen for us.”

  A pain shot through LaQuandra’s chest and she almost choked on its intensity. She couldn’t lose him to her lies, to her own betrayal. So she would never tell him about the many feigned pregnancies and miscarriages.

  She just couldn’t.

  “I know you did,” was all she managed to say.

  “Mr. Lewis, do you think you can set healthier boundaries when it comes to your son’s mother, calling her out when she disrespects your wife?”

  LaQuandra eyed him. And waited.

  Isaiah hesitated. This counseling shit was too stressful and too much fucking work. He sighed. “I’ll do better,” he offered.

  LaQuandra relaxed in her chair, somewhat satisfied. But not enough to let go of her nagging suspicions, and so she pressed Isaiah again. “Are you fucking her, Isaiah? And don’t lie.”

  “No. I’m not,” Isaiah firmly stated.

  LaQuandra eyed him suspiciously. “Then why aren’t you fucking me?”

  “Because I’m tired, Quandra. I’m tired of the bickering. I’m tired of the back and forth between you and Cass. I’m tired of being in the middle of drama and bullshit. You and Cass are fucking drama queens. And, keeping shit straight-up with you, Quandra—I’m tired of both of you crazy bitches.”

  “And I still don’t believe you,” LaQuandra said.

  Isaiah shrugged. “Then I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “There are always three sides to every story,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “There’s his truth, your truth, and the real truth somewhere in the middle. So, Mrs. Lewis, to help you to decide which truth you wish to believe, I have two options for you.” She waved a hand out over toward the other side of her office. “Over there is a lie detector, for which both of you will be required to take?”

  LaQuandra rapidly blinked. “Excuse me? I’m not the one who—”

  Dr. Dangerfield cut her off. “You want transparency, you want truths, then there’s your chance for it. But your husband deserves the same.”

  Isaiah stretched back in his seat, arms folded with a smirk on his face. “Yeah, I’m kinda diggin’ that.”

  LaQuandra rolled her eyes. “And the other option?”

  Dr. Dangerfield smiled. “Glad you asked.” She pressed a button, and then a wall slowly slid open revealing a large screen. “I have had the pleasure—and I use that word loosely—to speak candidly with Miss Simms.”

  Oh shit. Isaiah felt the blood draining from his face.

  “Oh, Lord,” LaQuandra groaned, feeling her pulse racing. “And what did that ratchet bit—she have to say? Did she admit to it?”

  “You can find out for yourself,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “Miss Simms has agreed to a call-in, and she’s already on standby. So what will it be? The lie detector test or the conference call?”

  Isaiah’s mind was already made up. Cassandra’s ass was too unpredictable and impulsive, but he also knew she wouldn’t put him on blast unless he gave her reason to.

  “I want the lie detector,” he said.

  LaQuandra raised a suspicious brow. Oh, now this motherfucker wants to take the test. He must not want me to hear what that bitch has to say. Nigga, puhleeeze!

  “No. Call her,” LaQuandra said. “I wanna hear what she has to say.” She shot a nasty look over at Isaiah. “So we can clear the air once and for all.”

  Isaiah kept a straight face, but he was smiling inwardly. And then he prayed like hell that Cassandra stayed on script.

  “Mr. Lewis, are you okay with this?”

  Isaiah shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Very well then,” Dr. Dangerfield said. And then she pressed another button, bringing the screen to life.

  “Day’Asia, where the fuck is you going,” blared out through the speakers, “leaving up outta here looking like some cheap whore? Day’Asia? Don’t do me, bitch; you hear me talking to you!”

  Isaiah cringed.

  LaQuandra twisted her lips.

  “Miss Simms? Hello? Hello?”

  “I hear you, damn! I’m going to see Clitina.”

  “Nigga-coon, boom! Oh no the hell you not! You ain’t going up to no gawtdamn prison dressed like no skank to see a skank. And you ain’t smuggling no more drugs up there for that triflin’ bitch, either. Both you whores are sickening. That bitch halfway retarded smoking anything that come from outta that rotted stank-hole of—”

  “Mommy, Fuquan hit me.”

  “I did not, fucker!”

  “Goddamn you, Fuquan. Don’t have me break my fist in your mouth. You know I got that therapist bitch about to call me about Isaiah’s fahver. Now don’t do me. Go take your ass up to your room.”