His Pleasures and Pain (Book II) (Allen Trilogy 2)

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His Pleasures and Pain (Book II) (Allen Trilogy 2) Page 25

by Chevelle Allen


  “Red!!!” she shouted. Nikita hadn’t used her safe word in a very long time. The last time she did they were trying fisting—but it didn’t turn out well. As delicate and careful as he was preparing her for the intensity of that experience, she simply didn’t like it even though she begged him to do it.

  He immediately released her and quickly removed the bindings. Helping her stand upright he began inspecting her. Nothing he had done came close to what she could physically endure.

  “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “No!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah!” Free of the bindings, she pushed his hands away from her.

  “Then what’s wrong? Why did you say ‘Red’?”

  The look on her face was one he couldn’t recall ever seeing.

  “Why her?”

  “What?” He was genuinely perplexed.

  “Why did you pick that bitch to be your new Sub?”

  He took a deep breath and stepped back from her. “If you had a problem with me having another Sub you should have said so. I told you…”

  “Dumbass, I don’t have a problem with you having another Sub.”

  “Then what the hell is this about?”

  “I have a fucking problem with you bringing that white woman up in our shit! I thought you didn’t do Race Play?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You can’t be this mothafuckin’ stupid.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  They stood glaring at each other with all her anger evident and his rising.

  “I’m trying to understand why you don’t see it.”

  “See what?”

  “You may not THINK you’re not doing it but you are. I can guarantee it’s in her head.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “Of her? Please! Punkass, you need to check your ego!”

  “You need to back off the name calling because you’re pissing me off!”

  “Fuck you being pissed! I work with women like her everyday—an enlightened liberal, right? But I bet if she didn’t know you, she’d still clutch her damn purse on an elevator no matter how pretty, how much money or well-dressed you are!”

  “This is bullshit!”

  “She chased your ass down ‘cause she knew what you were into. She found herself a black dick-but not too black- to tie her up and do whatever he wants. And you fell for that white pussy trap! Typical!”

  “I’m not doing this with you. This shit is crazy.” He walked away from her and sat on the sofa trying desperately to control his emotions.

  “Now she knows what this is really about, she’ll control just how deep it all gets. And you know why? Because you’re a Dom who aims to please.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “No!”

  “No?”

  “Just tell me why?”

  “I don’t need your permission for who I fuck! Somehow you got this shit twisted.”

  “No, you got it twisted! I’m not gonna watch you go backwards after all we’ve been through together.”

  “Go backwards? What are you…”

  “All the fine sistas out here you could’ve picked—‘cause I know they push up on your high yellow ass- you picked her!”

  “What the fuck did you call me?” he was enraged.

  “Oh you didn’t like that? Now imagine how you’re gonna feel when she calls you her sweet nigga!”

  “Get the fuck out of my house!”

  Completely ignoring him, she said, “It might be different if you had a relationship with her, but that’s not what’s going on here.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “It makes a difference!” she shouted. She paused for a moment as if she were trying to be more thoughtful than reactionary. “I thought you were beyond this double life shit. Lately, I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to call you. Is it Michael or M? Sir? What? What the hell is going on with you?”

  “I’m not the one with the issue.”

  “Baby, you got more issues than you know what to do with.”

  He couldn’t believe the things she was saying. Her words stung even in the midst of his anger.

  “Right now, I’ve got an issue with you. You think you can dictate how shit goes down in my life? That’s not your role.”

  No matter how angry he was with her, he knew his words cut her to the core. He could see it on her face and he regretted them as soon as he said it. Over the past two years, Nikita had become special to him. She wasn’t just someone he fucked. She was his friend-and more-whether he wanted to admit it or not.

  “Fine! You want to fuck her—go ahead. But don’t ask me to help again. Don’t ask me for shit.”

  He watched as she hurriedly put on her clothes. He wasn’t sure what to say to her but he knew he couldn’t let her leave. Not like this.

  “Nikita, stop,” he said calmly.

  “You told me to get the fuck out.”

  “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”

  “For what? Obviously I’m just another bitch you play with and fuck when it’s convenient.”

  “You know better.”

  “No, I don’t. Not the way you’ve been treating me lately. And I’m sick of it.”

  “What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t like it. I don’t know if it’s over losing your girl or what, but you’re…it’s like you’ve shut down.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Yeah, you have. What’s worse is seeing how you’re dealing with whatever the hell it is.”

  “I’m over it.”

  “No you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t be crossing into play you know is dangerous for you.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Really? Whether you wanna admit it or not, it will come out. Do you really think you can control that level of rage when she calls you out of your name? ‘Cause I can guarantee it’s going to happen.”

  “Then I’ll deal with it.”

  “Right…because you’re always in control.” She reached behind her neck removing the collar and necklace placing them on the kitchen counter.

  “Nikita…”

  “Take care of yourself, Michael.” She got her coat and left.

  CHAPTER 35

  It had been several months since he heard from Nikita. Although they weren’t a couple, what happened between them could only be described as a break up. Their last discussion had all the markers: hurt feelings, sense of betrayal and loss. Even if the call was less than fruitful, at least he was able to say Good bye. There were certainly times when he missed her—not just their play. He missed her infectious laugh, bold personality and genuine affection. But in time, he didn’t dwell on the loss acknowledging it simply was what it was.

  Aside from his personal entanglements, it had been a good year with several successful settlements and a considerable number of clients on retainers. He’d given his team large bonuses as a reflection of his gratitude and their stellar work. Lacy continued pushing to expand in other areas of the law, but he wanted to keep the focus where it was. He wasn’t interested in building an empire—he simply wanted to have a sustainable practice helping clients large or small in the nonprofit and small business sectors. But business had been so good he needed to rethink the firm’s assets. Meetings with both his accountant and financial advisor helped him strategize how best to protect and grow the firm’s investments while minimizing personal and professional tax liabilities.

  Wrapping up a few additional items before heading out for the day, the office phone rang.

  “Hello, this is Michael Josey.”

  “What’s up man?”

  “Hey! What’s going on?”

  He hadn’t heard from Dave Bennett in a few months. When they last talked the call was fairly short, but he knew things weren’t going well in his marriage. Much of what he knew about his situation came from Janine
when they were still talking. She’d admonish him to check on Dave. Being as close as they were, he knew if Dave really needed to talk, he’d reach out.

  “Everything and nothing.”

  By his answer and tone, Michael knew something significant had happened and it wasn’t good. He could only imagine, but rather than ask he simply said, “I hear you. Same here.”

  “I’m putting together a golf weekend. You in?”

  “When?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Where?”

  “Vegas.”

  “Yeah, I can do it. Who else is going?”

  “Jamal. That is if Denise takes the leash off him!”

  Michael laughed saying, “Man, he hands it to her!”

  “Right! Right!”

  They laughed even though they both knew Jamal and Denise were deliriously happy.

  “Just send me the details and I’ll see you in two weeks,” Michael said.

  “Sure thing.” There was a meaningful pause and Dave closed by saying, “Thanks, man.”

  “It’s all good. See you soon.”

  With that, the call ended. There was no question about it—things weren’t good at all. He could only surmise Dave and Amber were no longer together. Dave needed this time away to get himself together and begin the transition to whatever was next for him. Michael looked forward to the trip if only because he wanted to hang with his friends. It had also been a while since he just got away. A part of him needed this too.

  The flight to Vegas was uneventful. When he reached the hotel, he was ready for a strong drink and a good cigar with his boys. They planned to meet at the bar at five, have a few rounds, eat and see what the night brought. As they gathered, chest bumps and handshakes were all around with cheerful smiles and boisterous conversation. They settled at a table ordering top shelf liquor while settling back watching people come and go. During lulls in the banter, their attention focused on one of the sports channels showing on multiple televisions. By the third round, they were loose, feeling good and hungry.

  “So when’s our tee time tomorrow?” Jamal asked.

  “Ten-thirty,” Dave replied. “But your game aint shit, so does it matter?”

  They laughed knowing none of their games was that great, but Jamal was by far the most pathetic among them. He spent so much time in the rough they often let other golfers play through. Michael learned to play as a teen at his father’s insistence, but never really liked the game so he never invested much effort in improving it. Dave was better, but not by much.

  “That’s all right, dog. I got something for you!”

  “Yeah, right! At least you aint holding the club upside down!” Dave was relentless and Michael thought the whole exchange was hilarious.

  “Fuck you, man!” he laughed. “So check it—ya’ll wanna hit a casino tonight or what? I mean we are in Vegas.”

  “If your card play is like your golf game, you might want to keep you money in your pocket, man,” Michael chimed in.

  “Oh, so you got jokes too, Mojo?”

  He had to laugh because he hadn’t heard that particular nickname in a very long time. In addition to its given meaning, it was also a clever mashing of his initials. Jamal had bestowed it upon him back in law school after a night out. They were clubbing and he hooked up with a stunning older woman. After having sex with her in the bathroom, Michael returned to his friends providing none of the details he knew they wanted. As that night drew to a close, she approached their table, handed him her business card with a verbal invite to “do it again sometime.” They never let him live it down.

  “I’m just saying.” Michael said.

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress interrupted as she cleared their table of spent glasses.

  “We want to go out on the patio to fire up a few cigars and get some appetizers. Is that all right?” Michael asked.

  “Sure. Do you want anything in particular or just sampler platters?”

  Michael looked at the others to gauge their interest and said, “Three trays of samplers should be good. Thanks.”

  Resettled at a table overlooking the pool, they resumed their revelry. They laughed, talked about work and shared updates on their mutual friends. When an attractive, scantily clad woman walked by, they exchanged knowing glances and raised their glasses.

  “This is why I love Vegas,” Dave said cheerfully.

  “Man, we need to go do something, or I’m gon’ have another drink and carry my black ass to bed!”

  “Ah c’mon man! It’s only ten-thirty.” Dave said.

  “I know what time it is! And don’t try to act like you hanging out all night! You got kids too. Them little mofos wear you out!”

  “You can’t be too tired at night, you got four kids!” Dave replied.

  “Never too tired to fuck, am I right, Mike?”

  “You a fool!” he laughed.

  As the evening wore on, Jamal’s eyes grew a bit glassy and his words began to slur. “So what you doing, man?”

  “What you mean?” Michael asked.

  “You know what I mean. When you gon’ settle your ass down? I know you out here fucking everything that walks.”

  Michael chuckled saying, “It’s not like that.”

  Turning to Dave, he continued, “This mofo right here has pussy thrown at him! I don’t care where we at. I ain’t never seen no shit like it. Even now I’m watching the same women walk by smiling and nodding at Mojo and he acting like it don’t faze him a bit. I been saying it for years, damn pussy whisperer is what he is!”

  “Man, you need to chill,” Dave laughed.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!“

  Dave just laughed harder.

  More amused than embarrassed, Michael said dismissively, “Whatever, man!”

  But Jamal kept going. “Oh, so you got somebody now? Is that why you haven’t gone over there to say something to ‘em?”

  “I didn’t say that. But I’m good.”

  “I bet you are, playa!”

  “We cutting you off, Jamal!” Dave laughed. “You’re starting to sound like a woman asking all these damn questions!”

  “Aw right, Aw right! But you know me, I wanna know, I’m gon’ fucking ask!”

  The break Michael hoped for came when the waitress approached with another large order of fries. Given Jamal’s current state, they refused another round of drinks hoping he’d follow suit. They turned their attention back to the food while Jamal scarfed down fries dripping in ketchup.

  Seemingly out of the blue Jamal asked, “Your divorce final or what?”

  It got uncomfortably quiet quickly. Michael knew the topic would eventually come up, but he didn’t expect it to be raised by anyone other than Dave. Michael looked at Dave taking his cue about how best to proceed.

  “It will be soon.”

  As awkward as it all seemed, that’s all that really needed to be said on the subject.

  “Let’s finish up and go to a casino,” Michael offered. “A little Black Jack, Craps… maybe Poker?”

  “Sounds good,” Dave said.

  Michael paid the tab and they walked to the casino. The sights and people along The Strip got them laughing and joking around again. When they arrived, the place was loud and vibrant. From the folks perched at slot and video poker machines to the younger players trying to ball—it was what one would expect. They went to the upper level with the higher stakes tables guaranteeing far fewer people.

  They started at the Craps table. To their astonishment, Jamal was placing strong bets and on a serious win streak. Up a few thousand, Jamal finally backed off not wanting to press his luck. Michael and Dave backed away earlier after a series of losses. Jamal pocketed his chips as they made their way to the Black Jack tables. In that moment, Michael realized Jamal may not have been as drunk as he thought.

  As the night wore on, Michael had better luck at the Black Jack tables. But when the cards got cold, he backed off—u
p slightly. Dave finally had his luck at the Poker tables, playing the odds. He did well enough to break even for the night.

  They took a cab back to their hotel. The bar was open and fairly crowded even though it was after two. As the band played, a group of twenty-somethings who clearly had far too much too drink were dancing around. It was a funny scene.

  “Tell me we didn’t look like that back in the day,” Dave said.

  “Naw, we had a lot more chill. Besides if we got our heads bad, we usually got drunk at Mike’s. He had all the good liquor.”

  “I had to do something. That rot gut you bought had my head hurting for days!”

  “But you know the girls wouldn’t let us act a fool around them.” Jamal added. “We should plan something with them and kick it like we used to. I miss them.”

  “That might be hard. Kelly just had her baby,” Dave said. “I don’t know what’s going on with Monica. And J’s traveling all the damn time. I can barely catch her on the phone.”

  Michael didn’t add anything knowing such a gathering was out of the question. He wasn’t ready to see Janine again even under ”friendly” conditions. He ordered a final round deliberately shifting the conversation. They continued to laugh and talk before each headed off to bed. As late as it was, even a ten-thirty tee time would prove difficult for them all.

  Early the next morning, he went to the restaurant for breakfast finding Dave eating alone.

  “Morning. Mind if I join you?”

  “Naw, sit down. I’m just emailing the kids.”

  “How’re they doing?”

  “They’re good. They go back and forth being mad at me. But we’re working through it.”

  “Good.”

  “What about you? How’re you doing?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Kelly told me you and Janine came to visit.”

  Michael simply said, “I’m sure she did.”

  “How’s it working out?”

  “It’s done.”

  “Sorry to hear that, man.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I never thought I’d be out here again. I don’t know how you do it.”

 

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