Getting sexy: Obsession / Getting Some / Getting Even

Great, not another stalker. “Thanks for the call—”

“Whoa, whoa. Lishelle.”

Something hits me in the gut like a fastball, winding me. Excitement? No, not excitement. Well, maybe a little. But it’s mixed with caution.

“Glenn?” I ask.

“Who else, baby?”

Oh, Lord help me, not Glenn. Glenn who used to make me orgasm for days when we dated ten years ago. Glenn, who brought out the best in me—and the worst. Glenn, who broke my heart when I found out he was screwing one of his teaching assistants at the University of Atlanta.

I should have hated him and pushed him completely out of my mind and my life. But how can you forget a guy you connected with so completely? No matter how badly he hurt you?

That’s why, even though we’d broken up, we got together for a booty call a few times in the summer after I graduated from Spelman. Then, six years ago just before I met David, Glenn called me out of the blue because he was in town visiting a friend, and again we ended up in bed. He disappeared from my life the next day, I met David and moved on. But I never forgot Glenn.

“How are you?” I ask. I know, that’s incredibly lame, but I can’t think of anything better to say, considering I’m so stunned to be hearing his voice.

“I’m good. Better now that I’m talking to you.”

“Why are you calling me? After what—six years?”

“Six years. Has it really been that long?”

“And counting.”

“My bad. But hey, I’m glad to see how well you’re doing. A big-shot news anchor. You always said you’d be some big shot. I see you on billboards all over town. Congratulations.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you living here again? The last time I saw you, you were off in Los Angeles, trying to be the next Denzel Washington.”

“And you know how that turned out.”

“I do?”

“You haven’t seen me at the box office, have you?”

“I haven’t seen anyone at the box office. I’ve been way too busy.”

“You must have at least one man taking you out and treating you right.”

“Not that that’s any of your business, but no.”

“No, man. That ain’t right. We have to fix that.”

I inhale a deep breath. “Glenn, what is this—what’s going on?” Not that I don’t have a pretty good idea…

“I’ve missed you.”

With those three simple words, heat spreads through my body. But I don’t say anything. I don’t dare.

“Did you hear me?” he asks.

“Um, yes.”

“So when can we get together?” Glenn asks, using that soft and seductive voice he always used to turn me on back when we were an item. Damn him.

“Who says I want to get together?” There is undoubtedly a coy quality to my voice though, and the thought of seeing Glenn is already turning me on. When we were together sexually, it was always explosive. That’s the kind of thing a woman doesn’t forget.

And considering I haven’t been laid in so long…

How inappropriate is that thought?

“You don’t want to see me?”

“Why would you want to see me?” So we can have a one-night fling like we did six years ago?

“I just do. You know.”

“No, I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard from you in so long.”

“That’s exactly why I’m calling. To rectify that. Because it has been too long.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Till tomorrow afternoon.”

Yeah, another one-night fling. “I can always call you in the morning. We can get together for coffee. What’s a number I can reach you at?”

“Tomorrow?” he asks in that husky sexy voice again. “Why tomorrow? What are you doing now?”

“I’m going home and going to bed.”

“Alone?”

My breath catches. I can’t help thinking of my chat with Rhonda earlier, how I told her I wasn’t desperate. Right now, the fact that Glenn’s voice alone is turning me on, makes me think I’m a big fat liar.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Come see me. I’ve missed you,” he says, his voice an octave lower. “I really have.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t trust what might come out of my mouth. There’s a huge part of me that’s tempted to say yes—the part that wants to have sex with a man after such a long drought. But then there’s the other part—the part that knows having sex with an ex is always a dangerous thing.

“I need to see you tonight.”

My heart rate picks up speed. My body starts to tingle. Should I do this?

“Just come over. We’ll…talk.”

“Where exactly are you?” I ask.