afflicted #wattpad #nanowrimo

 

*Since my intention is to continue this story on Wattpad during November’s Nanowrimo challenge, I’m reposting this introduction*

Dominic was the love of my life until I killed him twice.

And both times, I can’t say that I was sad about it. But I’m not going to get into that with you just yet.

If you want to know the whole truth, you’ll have to be patient with me. Whenever I think about what happened, it’s like that slap from Dominic all over again and I’m left wondering how I got into it all in the first place.

I’ve never told anyone but God the entire story about what happened but I’m thinking…maybe it’s time to do it now?

This secret has been eating away at me and no matter what I do, it keeps bubbling up to my surface, trying to escape. I need to get this weight off of my chest and the only way I can do it is by writing it down.

If I was really smart, I wouldn’t write it down at all, especially online like what I’m doing right now. But I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind. Maybe my story will turn out to be a bunch of incoherent ramblings – I don’t know.

Just know this – I’m not a bad person. I needed to do what needed to be done to free myself from Dominic. And maybe, just maybe, what I have to say will free someone else too.

You know what they say – two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.

Fortunately, I’m the one still breathing.

Note: To be continued here on Wattpad.

All Rights Reserved ©2019 Marquessa Matthews.

“Chocolate High” #fiction

* REPOST

I just finished writing a new delicious scene between these two characters and decided to repost this. *

tiffany-n-light

 Photo credit: CEBImagery.com / Foter / CC BY-NC 

“Close your eyes and open your mouth…”

I did as I was told. I felt the warm gooeyness coat my lips, stick to the roof of my mouth and glide onto my tongue. My mouth widened to take it all in and I clasped my lips around it, wanting to savor it a little longer. Then I swallowed.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was good. And yes, I definitely wanted more. I simply moaned with pleasure.

“Now, tell me it’s the best you’ve ever had.”

His tone dared me to say otherwise. I savored what was left in my mouth and then licked the residue from my lips. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

“Come on, say it.”

I giggled when I saw the serious look on his handsome face. I wasn’t a liar and I wasn’t about to start now.

“I’ll admit that it is very good. But I’ve had better. Sorry.”

“And here I am thinking that I would blow your mind.”

Disappointed, Alejandro placed the fork back onto the dessert plate. I immediately picked it up, dug into the chocolate molten lava cake and brought it to his lips.

“Butter, eggs, sugar, chocolate, fresh raspberries, powdered sugar…I used to be an expert at making these when I was a teenager. This is almost as good as what I used to make. Open your mouth.”

“Shush, don’t let the chef hear you.”

A smile spread across his face before he opened his mouth to receive the fork. We laughed and took turns feeding each other until the cake was a memory and we were suffering from a chocolate high. When I noticed chocolate on the corner of his mouth, I smudged it away with my thumb. Alejandro took hold of it and slowly slide it across his sticky lips. Before I knew it, my thumb was in his mouth and he was sucking the chocolate from it.

His eyes said it all, making me wonder just how sticky things could get in the middle of the empty restaurant.

©2016 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved.

Save

A is for “Another Lover Hole N Yo Head” #atozchallenge

Another Lover Hole n Yo Head

*Niko*

Another city, another sold out concert.

The excitement and energy in the air before every big venue is always palpable but I’m used to it. I have long perfected the art of blocking out the machinations of the arena staff, stage panel crew, sound checks that don’t require my presence and the venue managers team running up and down the hallways behind my dressing room door.

Look, I adore sharing myself and music with my loyal fans and would do almost anything to make them happy. I mean, I agreed to this ridiculously grueling tour because of some social media campaign a fan started and that my manager thought I should follow through on. I didn’t feel like touring so soon again but I did it for them. If that’s not love for my fans, I don’t know what is.

But I won’t fool you. Though I love touring, I’m slowly starting to hate it. And these days, all I keep thinking about is when this tour is over and I can slow the pace down.

I’m just so tired.

Not only am I physically exhausted but I truly need a mental break from the damn promotional events, the groupies, having the paparazzi all up in my shit and escorting my girlfriend Chelsea to her press junkets on the rare days that I’m back in New York between concerts.

From a distance, I can hear the band practicing one of the new song arrangements suggested by Bobby, my manager. He thinks that we should spice up some of the slower tunes with a fresher beat and though I reluctantly agreed to it, I hate the changes.

When I write songs, they capture what I am feeling in the moment and believe me when I say that I’ve never written anything with a reggaeton or techno-style beat in mind. I have nothing against those trendy tunes on the radio these days but dropping a beat to some of my slow love songs just to satisfy a younger demographic?

Fuck no. I mean, the new arrangements aren’t total shit but they just aren’t…me. My diehard fans won’t mind but like me, I know they will always prefer the tried and true originals.

I squeeze my eyes shut as Diana, also known as Dirty Diana or DD for short, applies foundation to my face.

Who gave her that stupid nickname? I hope that it wasn’t me in my younger shit-stupid days.

Out of respect and unlike some of the others from the crew that actually called her DD, I always call her by her real name. Diana stopped reacting to the nickname years ago but I’m sure that it was a bitter pill to swallow. It’s only on days like today when she is on her flirt with me that I call her DD in my head. For the past hour, she has been applying the industrial strength concert ready make-up on my face to withstand the hot arena lights and all the sweating I will do.

I hate sitting still for so long. It’s the worst kind of slow torture when I’m pumped up and raring to get onstage to bathe in the screams, the bright lights, the band and the fans giving me all of their energy.

I’m tired of this life but yet it gives me life. It’s a fucking contradiction that I juggle with every day.

But yeah, this rockstar lifestyle is starting to lose its’ glow.

One too many cities with virtually no rest in between, the exhaustion is creeping up on me and killing my creative juices. When I’m on the road like this, I have no time to write new music and that’s what I live for. My first true love is song writing. Sharing and performing my songs somehow ended up being a natural by-product of it all. I haven’t really sat at a piano or picked up my guitar to just jam for the fun of it in at least four months and I’m itching to get back in that groove.

“Niko, stop frowning! You’re messing up my beautiful canvas.” Diana scolds. She has clearly been in flirt mode with me over the past few cities. The last thing I want is to cheat with her or any other woman now that I’ve made up my mind to make things work with Chelsea. “What are you thinking about that’s making you tense up like that?”

I realize that I’m frowning enough to interrupt her work on me so I open my eyes and try my best to relax my face. She’s smiling down at me with a foundation brush angled near my cheek.

“Sorry.” I return her smile. “Nothing really. Just thinking about…stuff.”

Since rejoining the tour, Diana has been sporting super straight black extensions, reminiscent of Cher in her younger days and a deep fake-a-bake tan. When I first saw her, I didn’t even recognize her. I’m not sure what “look” DD is going for these days but I do know that I prefer the original Diana with the fair-skin and red hair. I can’t understand why she just doesn’t want to look like herself but to each his or her own. Women are just too complicated to figure out and I stopped trying years ago.

Rumor has it that she is still reeling from a bad break-up, that she is reinventing herself and that she’s on the prowl for a rebound. I don’t know about all the other shit but from her overt sexy come-ons to me, I know that she definitely has me on the brain.

Each and every time Diana works on me, I wonder how many hours it takes her to put herself together – the make-up, sexy outfits, killer heels, and nails long enough to take someone’s eye out. I have never seen her makeup-less (or less than “fleek” in her words), even when we were sexing each other every chance we got during last year’s European tour.

“Well, you must be thinking about something because you are totally, totally tense.”

Diana shoves the brush into her make-up artist belt, swivels the chair around and proceeds to sweep her palms lightly across my shoulder blades before massaging them hard and deep. I won’t fool you, the kneading of her strong hands feels amazing and immediately melts my tenseness away. I close my eyes, drop my head forward and groan loudly. I try my best to ignore the fact that she is purposely pressing her tits into my back.

Fuck, her hands are like magic. Then again, DD has always had skilled hands.

When her hands slide from my shoulders down to my chest to caress my pecs, she startles me with her hot breath against my ear.

“Hmm, I know of a much better way to relax you before this show…”

Diana swivels the makeup chair back around and before I know it, Diana forces my legs open and is on her knees between my thighs. Her seductive stare from under her false eyelashes tells me what she has in mind as both of her hands trail their way to my zipper.

DD is definitely on a mission and is coming for me…hard.

© Copyright 2019 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved

PART 2 of this installment – For my email subscribers, you received a link to access the rest of this installment in your inbox. If you are interested in reading the rest of this installment, feel free to sign up for my email list and I’ll add you to my private folder as soon as I can (depending on the time-zone difference).

“Two Can Play That Game” – The Beginning… Fiction Friday

A strong cup of hot black coffee was the only thing I wanted until I saw her.

Like everyone else standing in the queue, I needed my morning caffeine fix so I decided to stop at the first coffee shop on my way to the office.

For the first time that week, I was actually early for work. But that was only because Brittany had kept me up for most of the night and I had never really gone to bed. When I’d picked her up from the airport the night before, she had wanted to make up for lost time, lots of lost time. I was glad that I had no meetings that day because I knew that when the wave of tiredness eventually hit me, it would hit hard. Right then, all I wanted was to sit and enjoy my coffee in peace before starting my work day.

With my cup in hand, I scanned the coffee shop for an empty table but there were none to be found. If I really wanted to sit, I’d have to do it by joining someone at their table. I took a minute to assess my situation.

Two nerdy guys sitting in the far corner with their noses almost pressed against their laptop screens?

A gaggle of loud teenagers who looked too young to drink coffee?

No.

And no.

Three cute but young twenty-something women in a corner booth giggling and giving me the flirting eyes?

I smiled at them and they all smiled back.

Yes, sitting with them was the only way to go.

Until my eyes landed on her.

Sitting alone at a table for two, dressed in black yoga pants, wearing a bright mauve T-shirt with “Au Naturelle” printed on the front and a black hoodie, she stood out among the business attire and teenage trendy school wear.

Her dark curls were in a messy ponytail, a pair of glasses dangled dangerously from just above her forehead and she was sipping from a large mug as she flipped through a newspaper. The way she slowly took her time to peruse the page and the fact that she had a mug instead of a to-go cup meant that she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

I watched as a smile spread across her face at whatever it was that she was reading. When she picked up her cell to check the time, she glanced around just enough for me to get a perfect view of her face.

I immediately wanted to know what shade of brown her eyes were and what I would need to do to kiss her.

As I passed my “threesome” with a nod of acknowledgement, I noticed their looks of disappointment.

But I was on a mission.

I walked up to her table and positioned myself in such a way for her to notice me. But when she didn’t, I had no choice but to break the ice.

“Hey! This place is pretty crowded. Would you mind if I sit with you?”

She graced me with the warmest of warm dark brown eyes and her smile could have lit up the entire coffee shop.

“Be my guest. But you might regret it…”

She motioned for me to sit and I promptly accepted.

“With a smile that beautiful smile, regret would be impossible.”

[Note: This is an excerpt of a much larger story to come – stay tuned)

©2016 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved.  Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST


Save

A Little Valentine’s Fiction

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Since this excerpt is based on Valentine’s Day, I thought that I would share it with you. If you like it, let me know.

M xoxo

***

I was in the middle of a perfect spin when someone turned the volume down on the song I was choreographing to.

What the fuck?!

Before I knew it, two of the girls were racing towards me. A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I slid down the pole. Everyone knew better than to interrupt me while I was creating new sets so whatever it was had to be a important or an emergency.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” I grabbed my towel from the floor and dabbed the sweat away from my neck. When smiles spread across both of their faces, my blood began to boil. Their smiles meant that there was no emergency and both of their heads were going roll.

“Ella, that guy from the other night is out front asking for you,” Li Na giggled like a schoolgirl.

With or without make-up, Li Na could pass for a teenager though she was in her early-twenties. It had become clear that her jailbait looks were what had made her very popular with the freakier patrons at the club. Li Na was a smart girl and knew exactly how to work her looks to her advantage to get more tips.

“Who are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance but I knew who she meant.

“Your boyfriend,” Saanvi eagerly clarified, not able to contain her excitement. Saanvi was the total opposite to Li Na and was clueless about men and the business. Sheltered and freshly on her own after moving out from extremely controlling parents, there was no way I would allow her to get near the stage. Until she mastered some everyday life skills, I had found part-time work for her helping with the club’s social media side.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I walked away to retrieve my bottle of water. They followed me like two hungry puppies. They were both still young enough to think that working a pole and having a real boyfriend all at the same time was possible.

“Okay, well maybe he wants to be.” Saanvi’s eyes twinkled bright and hopeful. “It is Valentine’s Day you know.”

Whatever.

“Well, Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” I sneered. “Tell him that I’m busy. You know that I don’t like being disturbed when I’m …”

The clicking of hard shoes against the studio floor made us all turn around to observe Jake sauntering over to where we stood. Li Na and Saanvi’s deep intakes of breath synchronized and rebounded hard against the studio walls. Holding a single red rose and now standing inches away from us, Jake was beyond looking like a tasty snack. He was a delicious five course meal and was making me hungry. I’m sure that I wasn’t the only one squeezing my thighs together uncontrollably at the sight of him.

“So…I can’t be your Valentine today?” Jake’s voice was deep and raspy. He grinned and extended the rose to me. His eyes locked with mine for such a long moment that I didn’t realize that Li Na and Saanvi had vanished into thin air.

Don’t let him rattle you.

“No.” I managed to keep my aloofness with a smile and ignored his outstretched hand. “You can’t be my Valentine.”

“And why not?” Jake took a step closer and held the rose up between us. The scent of the rose and his cologne heightened my senses and all I was thinking about was wrapping my legs around his waist.

Down girl.

“You’re missing eleven roses for this to be a traditional Valentine’s bouquet…” I purposely looked the rose and turned up my nose.

“I have no problem running back and buying more. But something tells me that you’re not the typical woman who would be impressed by a full dozen.”

It was my turn to close the gap between us a little more. We were so close that I could feel his warm breath on my forehead.

“You’re right. I’m far from being a typical woman. Even if you bought me the entire flower shop, it wouldn’t matter because I don’t believe in love or anything related to Valentine’s Day.” My harsh words made him frown in the cutest way.

“You don’t believe in love?” Jake studied my face and grinned down at me.

“To believe in love, I would have to have a heart. And I don’t have a heart.”

I really wanted to tell him that if a man was not in a position to finance my life or fuck me senseless whenever I wanted with no strings attached, I had no use for them. But of course I didn’t let those words leave my mouth. Jake didn’t need to know about the hard and fast rules I had been living by for most of my adult life.

I wasn’t about to bend or break my life rules for Jake, no matter how tempting and normal he presented himself to be.

Jake was all strings. Hot, sticky and dangerous strings.

“You have a heart. I’ve seen it more than once sweetheart. And I saw it clearly the other night too.”

My entire body tensed up at the memory of the other night and my face flushed.

“The other night had nothing to do with “heart”. It had everything to do with me wanting to fuck you and you weren’t interested.” I felt myself getting pissed all over again at how he had turned me down, leaving me hot, bothered and unsatisfied. “I mean, do you even like women? A typical straight guy would never have turned me down.”

And it was the truth. Never in my adult life had I been refused by any man.

Never.

Jake gave me a long hard stare that froze my breath. Probably sensing that I would back away, he slid his hand around my waist and pulled me in so that my chest was pressed against what felt like a six pack of hard abs.

Damn.

“I assure you that I’m straight Ella. I’m just not your typical guy, just like you aren’t a typical woman. Sometimes slow is a better way of getting to know each other…”

“But most times, fast and furious is much more fun,” I countered and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

“Do you purposely try to shock people or are you always this…unfiltered?”

“Being unfiltered has gotten me into some trouble but I can handle it. Does it scare you?” I was the one grinning now.

“It actually does but in a good way,” Jake admitted, running his hand through his dark curly hair before returning it to my waist. “But I also think that it’s your way of keeping your guard up against getting hurt.”

“No it’s not. What do you even really know about me?” I failed miserably at reigning in my defensive tone.

“I know enough about you to want to know more. How about I take you to lunch and you can let me be your Un-Valentine today?” Jake lifted the rose and brushed it gently across my cheek until I finally accepted it.

When I shook my head at his persistence, Jake kissed my forehead and I was glad that he couldn’t see the hint of a smile on my face.

Something about Jake had the potential to ruin the uncomplicated lifestyle I had spent years creating for myself.

And if I wasn’t very careful, I’d let him.

(This scene will likely be included in Ella’s future story.)

©2019 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved. Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST.

“Good Dick Is Hard To Find” – Fiction Friday

Photo credit: aliciacody via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Richard is standing behind me and I’m sitting deathly still waiting for him to react. I close my eyes as he leans in and fills my ear with his hot breath.

“No other man could ever do you the way that I do.”

I say nothing.

“How could you do it? Of all the men in this city, you turned to him? If you were unhappy, you should have talked to me!” He slides his hands along my shoulder blades and he pauses dramatically when he reaches the base of my neck. Hopefully, he won’t strangle me.

His voice is barely audible to the people sitting around us. His tone always sends tingles up my spine and makes my skin prickle in a sick yet satisfying way.

“It had nothing to do with not being happy! I just needed…”

“It kills me to know that you let him touch you! You let his hands play with what is rightfully mine. I’m not even sure if I want you back.”

His hands fall away from my neck, slides back down my shoulders and my face flushes with shame.

“I’m sorry. But…but you weren’t around to give me what I needed.”

“So that’s the way you’re going to play this off? You’re blaming me? I was only gone for one week!”

“I know, I’m sorry but…”

“All I keep seeing is his hands running through your hair and…”

Disgust chokes Richard’s words and then there we are, at a quiet standstill.

I can’t lose him, I refuse to lose him. I’ve waited far too long to have a man like this to lose him now. I need to make “us” right. Just being sorry isn’t going to cut it.

That’s when it hits me – I know what I have to do. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Richard, I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?”

“Uh…You know that thing you’ve always fantasized doing to me? Well, I’ll let you do it. I’ll let you have your way.”

I keep my eyes shut while I wait for his reaction. A quiet moment passes and once again, his hands find their way back to my shoulders. He squeezes them with anticipation and suddenly his lips are almost pressed against my ear again.

“Really? You’re that sorry?”

I nod.

“I’ll let you do anything you want to me. But one time and one time only. But you can never bring up what I did again and you can never ever kick me to the curb. Agreed?”

“Agreed!”

As I feel the whoosh of the plastic smock sweep across my body to imprison me, I finally raise my eyes and look at his reflection in the mirror facing us. A smile spreads wide across his face as he runs all ten fingers through the hair that I have never let him cut beyond its current shoulder length.

As his hands continue to play, his eyes glaze over as if he is literally turned on by fondling it. I am slightly repulsed at his excitement but feel a little empowered by the hold I seem to have over him in this tiny moment. Like a mad man, Richard’s eyes dart across the array of scissors and on the work space in front me.

“Hmmm…I’ve more than fantasized about giving you a sexy bob cut, hiding the grey and turning you into a fiery hot red-head with a little blond streak. It’s time you get off the grey line and I’ll guarantee that the men will fall in line in no time at all during this holiday season.”

Richard turns to bark orders at one of the many young wanna-be-famous-too assistants to prep me.

“I’m going to do you sooo right that you won’t be able to walk out of this salon!”

I stifle a laugh at how everything Richard says has sexual undertones but is always related to hair.

Like all of the other women submissively waiting their turn with “Good Dick”, the nickname clients called him behind his back, I have no intention of upsetting the apple cart. Never again would I dare have my hair touched by his arch rival across town.

If keeping myself in Richard’s good graces and on the salon’s exclusive client list means giving him my head, I’m prepared to swallow that bitter pill and pay the price of my betrayal because Richard’s hands are pure magic.

And in this city, another Good Dick is hard to find.

I hope that you enjoyed this. 

All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews. Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST .

 

 

 

Save

Save

“I’m In Love With The Girl Next Door”

pretty

credit to and found at https://giphy.com/gifs/pretty-kszpK4XuR5gQ

Please don’t think I’m creepy but I can’t help it.

She moved in last week and I have been watching her almost every single morning. It’s not like I go out of my way to do it. Her bedroom window and balcony is directly in line with my French doors and even though there is quite a distance between the two houses, I still have a good view from the kitchen island as I drink my coffee.

She has wrecked my morning routine. After having breakfast with Nate and then sending him off to get ready for the day with niñera Alma, I used to spend that time meditating.  But instead, I am observing her, wondering where she comes from and for how long she will stay at the Wilson’s rental home. I am intrigued and not just because she is cute. And curvy in all the right places. There is just something different about her.

In the morning, her black curls suffer from a serious case of bedhead and she glides around barefoot in some kind of over-sized T-shirt, starting her day with a large mug of coffee on her balcony and looking out into the distance until it is empty.  What she doesn’t realize is that we are having coffee together.

When she is through with her coffee, she disappears for a while and reappears with a towel wrapped around her wet hair, a bathrobe hugging her body. She turns on some music but never loud enough for me to decipher what is actually playing. A smile on her face, I can see her dancing and twirling, from her bedroom to the balcony and back. I chuckle as she brushes her teeth and suddenly stops to use her toothbrush as a microphone mid-balcony. She never glances around to see if anyone is watching her and even at the odd occasion when joggers pass by at that early hour, she doesn’t miss a beat. She waves, they wave back and she continues dancing.

She doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. And just watching her somehow makes me happy. I am more than intrigued and haven’t felt that way for a long time, probably since being with Nate’s mother.

I know that she isn’t a regular tourist or vacationer.  Dressed quite chic and her wild curls tamed into a tight bun, she would disappear into the back of a black town car at 8am and resurface around 4pm.

Where is she going with nothing more than a fashionable purse everyday?

Since I have been spending full days in the studio on the east side of the house, I see the same town car pull up to the main community gate and so that’s how I know she gets back around 4pm…It’s not like I am some creepy dude with no life next door. But that’s what you were thinking, right?

From the heavenly scents coming from the Wilson’s house around 5pm everyday, I know that she is a good cook.  Concoctions that required buttery fried onions, freshly diced tomatoes, pungent herbs…Definitely a  woman who can handle herself in a kitchen and likes real food. And from the healthy curves she has in all the right places (I said that before, didn’t I?), I can tell that she appreciates a good meal. She isn’t one of those I-will-just-have-a-salad kind of girls, she is a meat and potatoes/rice and beans type of woman. A woman after my own heart.

I noticed a few days ago that she takes walks on the beach at sunset, adorned in workout clothes and ear plugged into her cell phone tight within her grasp.

I need to meet her and somehow invite her over for Christmas dinner with us.

And that’s when I decide to take Nate for a walk before his bedtime to accidentally on purpose bump into her.

[Note: This is part of a larger story. Stay tuned.]

I hope that you enjoyed this story.   

All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews. Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST .

Originally posted on April 13, 2015.

 

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save