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Chanel believed that Mateo was having an affair with a few Puerto Rican girls. When she would bring up the issue, he would explain that he was into black women, and that he always had an attraction for dark skinned women.
“I love your complexion, baby. It’s Nubian—it’s beautiful. Sometimes I wish I was darker. Chanel, you know you got my heart,” Mateo would say to her.
His reassurance made her feel good and it made her feel wanted. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from her.
“I just find it weird that a man like him would wanna take it slow.”
“Maybe’s he overloaded on pussy,” Mecca joked.
Chanel didn’t find the comment funny.
“I’m sorry. Bad joke, huh?”
Chanel raised her eyebrow. “Mmpf. Anyway, he has this new place and he claims he never brought any bitches there before and I’m the only one he’s brought there. I get to come over and chill, but he never allows me to stay the night. He always takes me home.”
“I gotta be real with you. I do find that shit weird, Chanel.”
“It is, right?”
“You ask him why?”
“He says if I stay the night, he won’t be able to control himself.”
“So Mateo is actually trying to be a gentleman, huh?”
“I guess so. But girl, I’m not trying to be a lady.”
Mecca laughed. “So let me get this straight. Mateo treats you like the queen you are, and for some strange reason, he wants to wait to have sex with you, but you don’t want to wait any longer, and he brings you to his new crib, but he don’t want you staying the night because he sees you as temptation. Wow!”
“My life is weird.”
“Well, y’all need to talk. And you need to let him know that you don’t like the way he’s moving, and no matter what he tells you, you’re seeing different.”
Chanel agreed.
***
The next day, Chanel was nestled in Mateo’s arms on the couch at his condo. Watching a movie on Netflix, the two engaged themselves into passionate kissing and some touchy-feely. Chanel could feel a twitch between her legs. Mateo’s touch was riveting and his deep kisses were always mesmerizing. He held her lovingly. The aroma from his breath was winter fresh, and her scent was intoxicating to him. Being with her man always meant security and desire.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too, baby,” he said.
It was approaching midnight, but things started to really heat up with them on the couch. Mateo cupped her breast and caressed her butt, and their tongues wrestled, fighting for dominance. The movie was now watching them. Chanel wanted to take things to the bedroom. She wanted to know what sex felt like—to feel him inside of her.
They had been together for months and their conversation was still strong like they’d met yesterday. They were getting to know each other really well. Chanel felt like tonight she could take things to the next step. She could finally exhale and breathe.
He unbuttoned her shirt and she thought, This is it.
But then, Mateo pulled away from her, and their passionate moment came to a halt.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” she said.
“I need to take you home,” he said.
“Take me home! Why?” Chanel lamented.
“It’s getting late.”
