“Give me the phone, Jayne.”
She pulled her phone out of her purse and handed it to me. I punched in my digits and called myself before saving my contact info in her phone as “No, I’m On Top.” I winked and left without saying anything else.
I glared at Dimir as I walked past him and out the door. He had to be the biggest bouncer in Alabama. He gave me a hard time when I arrived at the club, trying to pat me down as if I was a criminal getting checked in at a prison. I had warned Bruiser about his guards being aggressive with me, but tonight I had to show Dimir that his size didn’t mean he was stronger than me.
“You know I’ll have to pat you down again if you decide to come back in,” he yelled as I walked out into the parking lot.
I flipped him a bird. “I don’t want to send you crying to Bruiser again, so keep your distance, Dimmy.”
He flexed the muscles in his chest. “Come back, and we’ll see about that.”
“I know I look good, but stop begging, Dimmy. You sound desperate.”
Now, it was Dimir who was flipping me off.
I laughed, got inside my car, and texted Jayne.
Let’s see if you can back up all that mouth.
Oh, I back up everything I say.
I smiled at her reply, and the next message that came through was an address.
On my way! Be ready Miss Always On Top.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into her house, and the sight before me caused me to stop and stare. Jayne had changed into a t-shirt and barely-there shorts that rode up her thighs, giving me the best view of her light brown legs that looked to be shined with oil. She held the door open for me as I watched her intently.
I pried my eyes away from her legs and hauled them to her beautiful brown orbs.
Why was she so damn pretty?
She was different, and I knew it as I stood there watching her watch me. There was enough heat passing between us to light a fire in me. The kind of fire that keeps a man warm for a very long time.
If she were any other woman, I would have been halfway to the bedroom, dragging her behind me. But Jayne made me feel something different, so I just stood there, frozen.
“Are you going to come in?” she asked, breaking the lull that hung between us.
“Yeah, I was just—” What was I doing? “Nevermind.”
I walked into her house. The scent of soft cashmere welcomed me, along with the warm décor that matched her welcoming attitude. There were a few eccentric pieces that stood out, like the huge elephant in the corner of the room painted with the colors of the African flag. The eccentricity of it matched Jayne, whose personality and style stood out every time I saw her. I just never imagined talking to her would have me feeling…again, nevermind. I wasn’t ready to embrace all the things Jayne made me feel.
“Nice place.”
“Thank you.”
I walked over to the entertainment system and found Mortal Combat sitting on top. “So, are you ready for this?”
A look of surprise crossed her face before she nodded. We ended up playing Mortal Combat for the rest of the night. I successfully fought the desire to kiss her, but after hours passed, I sat on the couch watching her.
We had just finished a game, and Jayne had gotten us both a bottle of water. When she sat down and folded her legs underneath her, I couldn’t stop looking at her, wanting her, thinking about the way her body would feel against mine.
I didn’t mistake the ‘kiss me’ request exuding from her eyes. We wanted the same thing, badly. So badly that I could feel a surge of magnetic energy pulling me closer to her as she inched toward me. When her intoxicating breath entered my nostrils, I knew that, if I kissed her, there would be no way I could stop this pull that was drawing me to her.
“I should go,” I said as I stood to my feet, effectively stopping the train wreck about to happen. I’d never allowed myself to get inside my feelings with a woman, and I wasn’t ready for that.
The passionate look in Jayne’s eyes, my ability to relax and be myself with her, and the way her womanhood’s aura wrapped around me and claimed me before I touched her let me know sleeping with her would be dangerous for my heart.
“No.” She leaned toward me. “You don’t have to leave. We can play another game.”
“It’s late, and I know you’re probably tired.”
“Well, you know what they say. I can sleep when I die,” she said to make things worse. I hated to say goodbye, especially knowing that she wanted me to stay with her.
Spinning my wheels, I tried to think of an excuse to leave. Jayne didn’t look tired. She looked as sexually frustrated as I was. I had all of this pent up energy that I wanted to expend. And she seemed to want more and to give more. I took a moment to admire the contours of her pretty face and almost relented.
A familiar feeling of warmth, affection, and need surrounded me. So familiar that my heart started fluttering. How could I need her so badly? How could it be something more profound than two people playing a video game? Those questions were the reason I retreated. I had to get a better understanding of my reaction to Jayne Alexander.
“People die when they die, Jayne.” I chuckled, making an effort to lighten the mood. “You played a good game. I guess you are a worthy opponent,” I said to her before I gave her a brief hug and retreated like a fucking coward.
I didn’t chance looking back. Seeing her disappointment might have pulled me back in. I was disappointed in the way the night ended too, but I couldn’t think of anything better to say or do, and I had to get out of there before I fucked her like she was one of the random women I met at a club, and she was far from that.
I went home and slept the entire night through, without dreams or middle-of-the-night alcohol. The next morning, I awakened with Jayne on my mind. I never woke up with a woman on my mind. I bagged them, left them at their place, then came home and drank until I passed out. Then, when I’d wake up the next morning, the night before would be a blur until some chick started blowing up my phone, asking if we could meet up again. That was how club nights usually went, but last night was far from the norm.
I went into the kitchen and started brewing a cup of coffee. Then, I checked my phone messages.
Good morning. I just wanted to say thanks for a good time last night. You played well, but in the end, I had to show you how real women do it. And by that, I mean, we end up on top!
I chuckled before I responded. Even though I beat her ten times before she had her first win, she was bragging as if she had demolished me.
I took it easy on you. Next time, I won’t.
Next time? Who told you there would be a next time?
If you’re not busy tonight, it can be tonight.
I saw the three bubbles appear as if she was typing a message, then they disappeared. She was thinking about my proposal. Good.
A few seconds later, she replied.
I’m free.
I smiled.
See you at seven.
✩ ✩ ✩
When I arrived that night, Jayne was dressed in a pair of jogger pants and a big sweater. She looked to have something troubling on her mind.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a rough day.”
She looked like she had more than a rough day. She was still going through whatever it was.
“Do you want me to come back another time?”
She forced a smile. “No, you’re fine. Come on in. I need something to help get my mind off this bad day. Glad you’re here. I’ll go grab us some snacks while you set the game up.” She stepped aside to allow me into her apartment then walked away to the kitchen.
While she was in the kitchen, her phone buzzed on the coffee table, nonstop. She walked into the living room and set two bottles of sprite and a bowl of popcorn in the middle of the table.
I handed her a controller. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Though she didn’t want to tell me what
was bothering her, she looked solemn, and I was worried about her. “No.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“My ex-boyfriend rode by here last night and saw your car. Now, he has been calling me all day, starting arguments with me about it.”
I looked at her puffy eyes. “You said he was your ex, right?”
“Right.”
“So why is he harassing you like that?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Oh,” was all I said in reply. I knew about ‘complicated’ relationships.
“I don’t want to be his second-fiddle anymore. I’m done with him, Xander.”
She was too beautiful to be anyone’s second-fiddle, and I was about to tell her that when loud knocks begin to rattle her door.
“Jayne! Let me in. I know you’re in there. Who is in there with you?” a man’s voice said. The knocking and yelling went on for another five minutes with Jayne telling me to “just ignore it. He will go away.”
Six minutes into the chaos at the door, a woman’s voice joined in the commotion. “Ned, what in the hell are you doing over here at this bitch’s house? Didn’t I tell you that if I catch you over here again that I would kill your ass? You must not believe me?”
“Go back home, Eliza! This has nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me?” the woman screamed. “Nothing to do with me?” she repeated, sounding like a monster from the scariest horror movie.
I got up and went over to look out the window. “They’re fighting,” I told Jayne.
Jayne huffed, and embarrassment etched across her beautiful face. “Oh, God. I told him not to come back over here. And what does he go and do? Come over here with his wildebeest in tow!”
“Well, now he’s in his car and driving off,” I told her as Ned’s red Nissan peeled out of the parking lot.
His wife stormed back up to Jayne’s apartment with a big rock in her hand and threw it through the window. “Shit,” I sidestepped to miss being hit.
Jayne flung her door open and said, “Hey, stop throwing rocks at my windows!”
The woman picked up another rock and tossed it in Jayne’s direction, and Jayne was all over her before I could hold her back.
“Jayne, stop it,” I said as she pulled a patch of the woman’s hair out. “Come on.” I picked Jayne up and took her back inside her apartment.
It took hours for Jayne to calm down. She was so upset that her ex and his wife had come over to her house to cause a scene that she cried on my shoulder while repeatedly apologizing.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, Jayne. I’m just happy no one was hurt and that no one ended up in jail,” I told her as I consoled her.
All of our following game nights over the next two weeks went much smoother. Her ex learned his lesson about checking up on Jayne because his wife was checking up on him. I arranged game dates with Jayne as much as possible. I wanted to be there for her as she dealt with the fallout of their fight.
At the end of every night, we both stared into each other’s eyes as if we desired more, and even required more than a platonic game and conversation. I instinctively wanted to kiss her, to embrace her, to make love to her. Those were the ways I knew to connect with a woman, but Jayne was worth taking it slow.
Without giving it much thought, I was two weeks celibate and didn’t have to drink myself to sleep every night. I didn’t want to give Jayne credit for that, but it was her. Knowing I would be with her gave me something to look forward to. I didn’t have to fake happiness by doing things that no longer fulfilled me.
Women were readily available to ride in my expensive car and anxious to move into my condo to shack up and be my wife. But every woman before Jayne paid attention to my outer shell. None of them knew or cared to see the turmoil that leveled me every single night. And no one would ever know.
Jayne followed my lead as far as being intimate, but I wasn’t leading us anywhere. It wasn’t because I didn’t desire her. Visions of her luscious body wrapped around mine helped me to relieve the pressure during many showers. I wanted Jayne to be mine, but some moral-driven part of me wanted to take things slow.
On those nights when I told Jayne I had to go to work early the next morning, I would go home and think about her all night. I worked for my father. I could have changed my schedule at any time. Using work was simply an excuse.
My position at Tech-Likely was flexible. It was my father’s business. Riley Macon had come a long way from the banged-up two-bedroom trailer we lived in when I was younger. He had taken an idea of servicing people’s computer remotely and turned it into a global tech repair business. He had customers from Spain, Britain, and even Singapore.
He said he built the company so that he could leave his legacy for me to take over. Over the past ten years, I worked in different jobs at Tech-Likely, spanning from file clerk to assistant VP of sales. But lately, I just hadn’t been feeling it at all.
The way I felt goes back to when I was four. It was the day my father told me my mother was gone and never coming back. I somehow understood the finality he was talking about. I had feared losing her, but to hear my father say she was gone made my worst fear real. The next day, he left me with his mother and didn’t come back to get me until I was eight years old.
During those four years with Nana, she took care of me. She explained that my mother had died and that she was in a better place. I wasn’t so sure about that. My mother always told me that she loved me and that there was no better place than being at home with me. I was left trying to understand why my mother left me without saying goodbye, and my father’s goodbye felt like abandonment.
Over the four years that I was with Nana, my father managed to check into drug rehab, finish school, and start a tech repair business. He visited me off and on during the time I was with Nana. Then, one day, he pulled up and announced he was taking me with him. His long dusty brown hair had been cut into a crew cut, and he wore a business suit. All my relatives kept saying that he was a new man and how proud they were. I had no feelings for him, good or bad. I was indifferent about going to live with him.
Living with Nana, I blocked out every bad memory. I stopped having dreams. I stopped living in endless fear of what would happen when my father came home. I had settled into a good life with Nana. I didn’t understand why she sent me back to live with my father, so I told myself she didn’t want me there any longer.
At first, I was happy with my father. I didn’t feel at “home” with him, but he tried to create a happy home for me. No matter how pleasant he had become, the eerie look in his eyes had a way of unnerving me. His voice scared me at times. If he came into a room unannounced, I would jump just at the sight of him. There was something about him that didn’t sit well with me.
Then, when I was fourteen, my Nana died, and the memories of the way my father treated my mother started to come back to me. It was as if Nana had been the glue holding the new life my father had built together. At first, I had subtle thoughts about my mother. Later, I started to hear her cries for help, her pleas for him to stop, her saying, ‘I’m sick of you threatening me.’
Ultimately, memories of the night she died rattled my core. That night haunted me every day from the day I had my first dream about it.
Thinking about my mother helped something to click for me. Her dark hair, long face, and high cheekbones were the spitting image of Jayne’s. Jayne had darker skin, but her facial features held the warmth and splendor of my mother’s.
After three months of hanging out with Jayne, I finally realized her hold on me. Her resemblance to my mother was both the reason I drew to her, and the reason I pulled back each time it felt like we were going to be intimate.
Any other woman and I would have taken her to bed months ago, numerous times. Another woman would be nearing her end with me. Three months in, I would not be interested any longer if she were any other woman.
It wasn’t my nature to spend three months get
ting to know a woman, but I spent three months getting to know Jayne. There were times we came dangerously close to making out, but I knew what it would lead to. A switch went off inside of me and wouldn’t allow me to take that next step. She meant more to me than a quick fuck. Now, I knew the reason.
The last time I was with her, Jayne initiated talks with me about our friendship. She wanted to know how I felt about her. And essentially, she wanted more.
I told her, “I like being around you. I love our conversations and the fun we have when we are together.”
Happy with my response, she wrapped her arms around my neck and hauled me closer for a kiss, but I pulled away.
She walked to the front door and held it open for me to leave. If she was disappointed in my rejection, she didn’t show it when she said, “I’m tired, Xander. I’m about to lay down.”
I walked over to her and touched the side of her face. “Jayne, I—”
She glared at me. “I’ll call you when I want to play games again. Right now, I’m serious. I’m tired.”
“I want to. It’s just—”
“Bye, Xander!”
I stepped over the threshold, and she slammed the door in my face.
I left her house, knowing my rejection hurt her. Jayne hadn’t talked to me since that night. Maybe she was tired of me avoiding intimacy. Maybe she decided to pursue someone else. It was disturbing to think about her getting close to another man.
Thumbing through my contacts, I decided to call Mandi. She had been reaching out to me over the past month. She would be an easy distraction. And I needed a good distraction. My old line-up had always been reliable in keeping my mind off of things that hurt me, and it hurt me not to be with Jayne.
Two hours later, Mandi was riding me backward like a good little trooper. Her rhythm that I usually enjoyed, her beautiful blond hair, the way she held her lips like they were made to suck my dick, kept my dick hard as I stroked her, but my mind was hundreds of miles away in Georgia. Jayne had gone to Georgia. All of our friends were there to support Alise’s performance.
I patted Mandi hard on the ass and commanded, “Get on your knees.”
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