BEYOND TOMORROW

CHAPTER 3

Xavier

It’s been a couple of days since the basement incident. I spent two hours letting my anger out. Now, I’m stuck getting ready for this damn Gala. It’s basically a “charity” event where top businesses get to see who donated the most. It would be a good cause event if the businesses actually cared. One thing I will say about my wife is she knows how to keep up appearances. Look at what she did. My wife got me a three-piece suit from Tom Ford with a light blue shirt. It goes well with her light blue dress. It hugs her hips, and it lifts her perky breasts just enough; she looks gorgeous. I walk up behind her and kiss her shoulder. Bae, “You look gorgeous.”

She responds, “I know.”

Together we look like the perfect match. We go well together. Too bad we really don’t love each other. The real reason we’re together is because of her father. He knows about my past, and he decided to blackmail me into marrying his other daughter. She is very attractive-looking, but not my cup of tea. I prefer my woman a little darker and a tad thicker, just like that candy bar, Snickers. My daughter, on the other hand, is a shade lighter, but we understand each other. While we are in the public’s eye, we keep the happy couple image, but once we get home, we act more like roommates or, in today’s terms, friends with benefits. Per our contract, we must f**k at least once a week, and we cannot cheat. She rubs up against me. I respond, I don’t have time.

Her: We can be quick,

Me: Maybe later tonight

That means not tonight either.

Her: You should, because otherwise I’ll find someone else to do it.

Me: I grab her by her neck and then pull her closer to me. In my deep voice, I tell her, looking her in the eyes, "Nobody touches what is mine. You are mine, even if either of us wants to be together." She bites the bottom of her lip. “Harder”

I squeeze her neck and stare into her eyes. I notice, as I look into her eyes, that they're Lily’s.

Flashback:

I am thrusting into her harder and harder. She looks so beautiful tied to my bed. Her moaning motivates me to squeeze her neck harder. I lose control. I don’t realize that I am squeezing her neck too tight. Seconds later, she stops moving or moaning. I scream, What da f**k. All I see is her eyes staring back at me.

Present:

I let go of my wife’s neck. “We should get going.” She frowns but doesn’t object. We pull up to the Gala in my Range Rover. They have valet parking, so we step out and let the valet park. I hand the valet my keys and two hundred-dollar bills and say, "Don’t scratch my baby." If so, you will have hell to pay. My wife takes my arm, and we walk into the Gala. If you have been to one of these events, you have been to a thousand of them. I see the same Damn fake people but still shake their hands. I begin talking to the president of another accounting firm when I notice the presence of another gorgeous woman out of the corner of my vision. I looked over fully to see it all. She was very beautiful; she wore a red dress that hugged her thighs, and her breasts sat just right. Her eyes were blue, and in my head I was saying, “Heyyyyyyy, Mrs. Parker, like, on Friday, the movie. She walks with a confident swagger, but it's very graceful. She looks at me, and our eyes lock. I catch myself staring for a second too long. I look away first. Then more thoughts go through my mind about what I want to do to her.

Control yourself, Xavier. I look back to see some man had grabbed her by the waist. I felt myself getting angry.

My wife was over talking to another corporate leader, so I excused myself and headed to the restroom. I entered a stall, locked the door, and sat on the toilet to try to calm myself down. I said to myself, why am I getting upset over someone I’m not even talking to? I closed my eyes, and all I could see were those blue-tinted eyes. I hear the bathroom door open. I hear kissing and two people who can’t keep their hands off each other. At least someone is having fun here. I open my eyes, peeking through the cracks of the stall just out of curiosity, and I freeze. In my mind, I said, “What that f**k, my wife.”

It’s my wife and another tall, wider guy with blue eyes. I pull out my phone to try to record it. It doesn't show clearly, so I sling my phone back in my pocket and watch through the cracks. This guy bends her over the sink and starts thrusting into her. He takes a handful of her hair and buries himself deeper in her. I hear her moan, “Oh yes, you feel so good. f**k me harder. My wife looks up for a moment, and it seems like she catches me looking at her, but she doesn’t stop. She moans louder. He lets go of her hair and grabs her by the neck with one hand, and with the other uses that hand to play with her c**t while he continues to f**k her. She says c*m for me, daddy. My wife's eyes roll back in her head as she climaxes. Then he soon finishes moments after with a loud moan. He fixed his pants, and my wife straightened her dress.

She said, “You walk out first, and I’ll come out soon.”

He said, “Good idea.”

As soon as he left, my wife looked in the mirror. “You can come out now, Xavier”

I leave the stall with my fist in my pocket to keep from strangling her. “How f*****g dare you. You know the f*****g rules.”

You know what: “f**k this damn contract. You don’t love me, and I don’t love you.”

Her: Don’t act innocent now, like you weren’t in here thinking about the blue-eyed b***h. I saw how you stared into her eyes a minute too long; I saw your facial expression change, and I know you. You are lucky if I don’t shoot her.

Me: You will not do that. I yelled at her, practically.

Her: “You are a coward. You see another man f*****g your wife and don’t do s**t. You're weak.”

Me: Before I knew it, I had my hand around her throat, squeezing the life out of it. I yelled, I could kill you right here, right now

Her: Then do it; I’m not scared, you coward

Me: I squeeze her neck tighter, then, all of a sudden, my phone rings. I answer without checking who it is. “What da f**k do you want I said in an aggravating tone.

Father-in-law states, "We have a problem."

Anna

Anna starts cooking and reviewing her files for her next big case. She’s not really focused on the case. She’s reminiscing about her army days. Some good, some bad, and then that damn flashback happens again.

Her being held down, a hand over her mouth, pain in her abdomen, and in his eyes, a flash of madness—a flash that I don't recognize you anymore. What was going on? She kept thinking. Why would you do this to me? We were friends. We bled together. We served together. We were one. Why do this to me? Trapped in that memory, it still lingers; it still hurts. Devin and I were one. We thought we were gonna get married. We thought we were gonna have children. We thought we were gonna have it all, conquer the world, still serve our countries. But that seems not to be the case. She was still stuck in the memory. All she could think about was that he got promoted. The motherfucker r***d me and got promoted. How is that f*****g possible? So after that, I quit the army and honed my skills even more. I take no s**t from no one. He will do it again. I know he will. And when he does, I will be waiting. I will take him down. I will end him. Memory fades. I come back to myself.

I stand to fix my plate. There's a knock at my door. I go to answer it. It's my boyfriend, Marcus. We've been together for five years. There is no love here. We both get what we need from each other, and then we're done. He's 6'2". Deep brown eyes, medium-length hair, black, of course. Deep Brown skin. I know Marcus. He's a playboy and a cheap f**k. Which has me thinking maybe that’s why he’s here, but I’m not in the mood for his cheap f***s today. The s*x is tedious at best. You would think with those looks, he would be a f*****g god in bed, but my God, was I wrong. He cheats, and I don't give a f**k. I care about the image. I'm a successful lawyer. I've never lost a case. Worth over $50 million. Do I look or sound like I need a man to sustain me? He's so mad that I won't invest in his company- well, his startup. It's not even fully his. What kind of man asks a woman to invest that kind of money? What the f**k? In my eyes, he's nothing but a little b***h trying to get money. He's a f*****g fuckboy, a hooker, that's a guy. He walks up, fixes his own plate of my food that he did not pay for, I might add. We start to converse. He talks about his startup for the day. I talk about my case, how I've won, how I destroyed my enemy, and how I'm going after his friends next. Then he makes that motherfucking quote, "No man wants a strong-willed woman." As you. Then I say, " Then what the f**k are you doing here?" If your peers and fans only knew how you talk in private, I counter with, if they only knew how you were unable to f**k. Seriously, for three f*****g years, you haven't even made me c*m once. And you have the nerve to sit here and look all high and mighty every time we're done, like you've done something. Grow up! If you were actually doing your job, I wouldn't need a damn vibrator when you're done. Then he shoots off, "Don't get mad at me because your p***y's just ripped." I say, "It's not ripped, it's just missing a bigger d**k that knows how to move." You are impossible, he says to me. I was thinking the same thing about you. Why does everything have to return to s*x? he tells me. Why do you always have to come and beg me for money like a little b***h? What, that old hag you were shacking three nights ago couldn't give you any motherfucking money? Go back to that b***h. Don't act like I don't know about her, about the girl at your workplace. And a three on the side, and you're still short on money? You doing all that hookering and you can't make that by doing what you're doing? This proves what I said. Pretty face, lazy f**k. He gets up. He said, "Obviously, you're mad about the situation, but we never said we were exclusive." You misunderstand me, motherfucker. I don't give a f**k. I don't give a f**k who you f**k. That's why I have stopped f*****g you, because you're f*****g too many different people. You might give me an STD. You play your part, I play mine, and that's the agreement. Don't f*****g touch me and don't f*****g think we're gonna do anything without my consent. I know for a fact that when I get done with you anyway, I'll still have to use my goddamn vibrator. I tell him, "I'm going upstairs to take a shower and get ready for the gala." Are you still mad about the other ladies? I told you, they mean nothing to me. He starts to try to kiss me on my neck. I think to myself, disgusting. Did you kiss that old hag with those lips? But then that need starts to take over. It's been three weeks. I can't deny, he's good with his hands and his tongue, but his d**k, no. His hands cupped my breast. And I can't stop myself from leaning my head back on his shoulder. He was like, I know you like it. Just say you like it. Again, I said nothing. After all, if I say nothing, he'll think that I don't like it, and he'll keep going. He starts kissing down my neck to the valley of my breasts. He grabs one of my n*****s and puts it in his mouth. He sucks rough and hard, making me moan. All while taking off my pants and my panties. His thumb circles my c**t, making me moan even more. Then he thrusts his one finger in while still circling my c**t. Then he picks me up and throws me on the bed while taking off his shirt. I look at his chest—broad, muscular, wanting. Well, at least that part of him is. Then he removes his pants. He's a good nine inches. But he still doesn't know how to work with that thing. How is that possible? He walks towards me, grabbing both ends of my legs and placing them wide apart. Then he dives in and starts licking like there's no tomorrow. As soon as he starts, I arch my back off the bed, moaning, grabbing his hair, pulling him closer, telling him more. One of his big hands grabs my breasts, starts playing with the n****e. The other takes turns with his tongue, circling my c**t. I scream, yes, don't stop. I need more, don't stop. And by God, he actually listens. He doesn't stop. He thrusts harder with his tongue. He rubs my c**t harder. Almost painfully bruising. But by f*****g God, I love it. God damn, I love it so much. Now, if he could get his d**k to do that. A few more minutes later, I c*m, and when I c*m, I actually c*m all over his f*****g face. That's it, b***h. Drown and die in my f*****g p***y. Just remember, when those other ladies kiss you, all they're doing is tasting my f*****g p***y. He leans up, stroking his d**k. My turn. I roll my eyes. Fine, a favor for a favor, I say. Come, let me see what those other ladies have taught you. I already know the answer: not a goddamn thing. I say to him, "That's fine, but I want a ride." He looks, and then a sick, sweet, devilish smile spreads across his face. He says, "Fine." I say, "Yeah, we need f*****g condoms." he pulls one out of his wallet. You come prepared. I always do, he says. Gotta keep protection. I was like, " With your field of work? Yes, you do. We both smile at each other. This banter is how we get along. He knows it, and I do too. There is no love here. There will be no loss here. It is what it is. He lies back on the bed. I straddle him. At first, I just played with him. Start stroking myself, lubing him up. He gets warm and hard, and I guide him with my hands. When I start jerking faster, he leans his head back and moans. "You like that?" I asked. He was like, "Yes, keep going, give me more." And so I did. When he got so hard that I could see the veins on his d**k, I stopped. I straddled him. I slowly lowered myself down on him. And he was like, "Oh my God, you're so f*****g tight." At first, I moved in a slow rhythm, getting used to him and getting him used to me. But then, I was like, f**k that, we're gonna have fun, my type of fun. So I took out my handcuffs and handcuffed him to my bed. Both hands. He looks a little scared, but I tell him, " You don't have to be. I'm not gonna hurt you that badly. He smiles. Do whatever you wanna do to me. I say, "That's a bad thing to say to a person like me, dear." So from my drawer, I pull out a d**k cave. It's one of those things that you put on a man's d**k, and then you ride him, or he f***s you. Well, because he's tied up at the moment, or handcuffed, however you wanna say it, tomato, tomato, it's all gonna come out the same. Well, I place it on him, then I slowly sink myself back down on him, make sure it's on, and then some of the fun starts to begin. So again, I start moving, but this time at a half. This piece. He arches his back; his head hits the board. And then, I pick up my pace even faster. I start grinding and rolling my hips. He starts moaning and arching his back even more. Pulling at the damn handcuffs. You're not going anywhere, b***h. Welcome to my motherfucking world. With the enhancement of the ring, I start to feel the buildup, and my God, does it feel so f*****g amazing. He's yelling, "Babe, don't stop, keep going." I say I was gonna f*****g do that anyway. Now shut the f**k up. You're ruining the f*****g moment. All you need to do is take what the f**k I give you and f*****g enjoy it. I said shut the f**k up. And again, a good boy f*****g obeys. With the way the bed was moving, you would think he was f*****g me, but it's the opposite way around. All I could think to myself is, I'm so f*****g close. It's been three months. My vibrators aren't doing anything. Goddammit, motherfucker, you better get me to c*m. Well, in this instance, I'm gonna get myself to come just off your d**k. A few more minutes into it, and goddammit, that buildup is so beautiful, and it's there. I start going even faster and even harder on his d**k, grinding myself on him. All he's doing is moaning, yelling, and pulling at the handcuffs. I pay him no mind. I'm more focused on myself. f**k this b***h. Do what you do best, get me to c*m. Well, if he were half decent f**k, he would. And there the buildup is; it's there, it erupts, and I come. His eyes roll back, and he yells, but she tells me he came too, and he loved it. I uncuff him and tell him to get the f**k out. We're done. Don't forget to meet me at the gala at 8. In my mind, I tell myself I'm not coming till 9. I head to my walk-in shower, turn on the hot water, and let it run down my body. I come out, start my makeup, and begin getting ready. I take my time, sitting and thinking about the man today with that body. Is it wrong that I was thinking of him while riding Marcus? Oh well, I will forget about it for now. As I sit outside the gala, I can't stress how much I don't want to go, but here we are now; let's get this over with.

All eyes turn to me when I enter. I see Marcus, but my eyes are glued to someone else: the man from the gym. Our eyes meet and lock for longer than they should. Then my eyes fall on the woman on his f*****g arm. Who the f**k is she? I ask myself. He may not know it yet, but he is mine, and I don't share. Somehow our eyes meet again, and this time it is heat in both our gazes. He turns away to talk to some guy; I can't think of his name to save my life, but his body turns, not his eyes. He remains like that for a minute too long; we are just looking at each other, then he turns away

Flashback

Hands all over my body, hot breath near my ear, him thrusting inside me. Then blinding pain, blood everywhere.

Someone accidentally bumps into me, bringing me out of my thoughts. The moment is gone, but my eyes lock onto something else, and a sick smile comes across my face for the brief moment. I see Marcus. Kissing that same f*****g woman who was on my rock's arm. She doesn't know this yet, but she's made an enemy of me, and あなたは*の*であり、*の*であり、**な**です。 I will do anything to make him mine.