by Xavier Neal
They collectively grumble at the mentioning of my siblings.
“Have you met them, yet?” Grandmother cautiously questions.
Chance shakes his head. “This will be the first time I meet any of them. Ms. Sato is always working, and Syd’s sisters don’t seem too interested in getting together.”
“Coretta is always working,” Gam Gam agrees while nodding. “Since her promotion even we see her less.”
“And the twins are not interested in anything that doesn’t benefit them,” Grandfather clarifies. “They are not much for kinship.”
“Never have been,” Grandmother sighs.
“Perhaps one day they will be,” Grandad wishes.
The two of us kiss my grandparents goodbye, promise to upload more pictures of us to their digital frame, and drive over to the Japanese restaurant where we’ll be having an early dinner. On the ride over, I explain how it’s the restaurant my family used to own as well as how we don’t come as often as we used too.
After the valet has the keys to his car, Chance locks his grip with mine and suggests, “What if we start doing dinner here once a month?”
I adjust my waist purse with my free hand. “Seriously?”
His grin grows. “Yeah. Why don’t we start coming here once a month, and you can tell me stories about him. Connect to his soul on a less explored avenue.”
“I’d like that.” My body glides closer to his. “I’d like that a lot.”
Once we give the hostess my last name, we’re quickly escorted to a table towards the back where my sisters are already waiting. While their prompt nature doesn’t take me by surprise the sight of their jaws on the floor does.
I’m not given time to make an introduction.
“Prince C?!” Daniella gasps, a mixture of confusion and excitement rolled into one.
My mouth moves to question the name when Drewella echoes her twin. “Prince C!”
Chance’s usual cheerful demeanor instantly vanishes.
The two stare at him like he’s the meal they’ll be enjoying for the evening.
They’re not subtle….Do you think they even care that he’s my boyfriend, or are they gonna try to jump in his lap anyway?
Quietly, I question, “Prince C?”
Chance cringes at the term as he turns his head to explain, “I-”
“Does she know?” Daniella bites.
“Or are you keeping dirty, little secrets?” Drewella pokes.
“I wouldn’t mind being a dirty, little secret,” Daniella flirtatiously giggles, grabbing her glass of wine.
The instinct to snap at them both kicks in, but is silenced by Chance answering them, “Yes. Your sister is aware of what I do for a living.” My boyfriend drops his attention to me. “They’re clients.”
Sadness slips onto my expression without my consent.
So…my sisters have seen my boyfriend naked probably more times than I have. That’s…fantastic. What? Ugh. Fine. Basically naked. Better?
Chance pulls out my chair and helps me settle in. He takes the seat beside me, which instantly irks Daniella.
“Why did you bring him here?” She sneers. “Did you pay him to be your fill in boyfriend not expecting us to know who he really was?”
“No payments,” Chance stands up for me. “No fill in. Just the boyfriend.”
Their jaws hit the table in unison once more.
“How is that even fucking possible?” Daniella grumbles. “I thought you were single.”
My eyes dart over to see his reaction.
“Never said I was single nor did I choose to comment on the status of my private life.”
“Good evening,” a man I’m assuming is our waiter interrupts. “My name is Damon, and I’ll be your server. May I get you started with a glass of wine or a cocktail?”
“Sangria,” I retort without hesitation. “Anything with Sangria in it would be great.”
My boyfriend’s gaze grows concerned, and he replies, “Just water for me, please.”
Mere seconds after he’s left the table, Daniella begs, “You should drink with us, Prince C. Give us an early peek at what we can’t wait to see this weekend. Do you have any idea how much we missed you last week? How disappointed we were when they told us Prince C would not be performing.”
Disgust and irritation dance across my tongue, although I somehow manage to keep my composure.
Chance clears his throat, places his hand protectively on my lap, and says, “Chance. Outside of my place of business you are to address me by my name, which is Chance.”
Drewella wiggles her bare shoulders. “Ooo…you’re even sexier when you’re assertive.”
Daniella, however, continues to flirt, “What else do you want us to do? Hold a rose in our mouths while you sway us side to side? Drop down on the floor and put your crotch in our face? Bend over so you can spank us for being naughty, naughty girls?”
“Enough!” I bark louder than expected. Neighboring tables glance over in concern, and I flash them a polite smile to send their attention away. Once I’m certain we no longer have an audience, I state, “It is not okay to hit on my boyfriend, especially with me sitting here.” My inner wolf howls in agreement. “So either treat Chance with the same respect as a normal person or just shut up and fantasize in your fucking head.”
Do I really need Sangria? By the stars my tongue is already running away from me.
“Head it is.” Daniella shrugs and has a sip of her wine. “Well, until this weekend when I finally get that private dance.”
Her words shoot bile up the back of my throat.
“If,” Drewella corrects. “God knows the right word is if.” She hits Chance with a questioning stare. “Why is it so hard to get you into a VIP room? We’ve been trying every week since the auction, and you’re always busy or booked or unavailable.”
Chance swallows an unknown emotion and replies, “Ladies, it is against policy to discuss business in detail not only in mixed company but outside of the establishment. Please, refrain from the subject of my job, and pick a different topic to discuss.”
Drewella grunts, “Ugh. Like what? The weather?”
“Perhaps how our grandparents are doing,” I interject.
They both gag their disgust. Thankfully, the waiter returns with dark nectar to soothe my splintering sanity.
Chance watches me down several large gulps before leaning over to question beside my ear, “Are you okay, babe?”
Another forced smile is pushed onto my face as I nod.
Far. Far from okay. But at least the booze will help.
He begins to search for more answers when my mother finally arrives at the table.
“Mom!” I shoot up to my feet and into her arms.
“Syd!” She exclaims back with a hug followed by a kiss on the cheek.
Afterwards, she opens her arms my sisters’ directions that merely air kiss her and remain seated.
Disappointed but not shocked by their response, she turns her attention to Chance who is on his feet, prepared to greet her the way I did.
“Chance, this is my mom, Coretta. Mom, this is my boyfriend-”
“He’s a stripper,” Daniella sings vindictively. “You should know that before you hug him.”
Despite the hurtful implication, Chance doesn’t stop smiling. “I do shower though.”
Mom laughs at his good natured spirit and embraces him in a hug. “Nice to meet you, Chance.”
Once we take our seats, she orders water and announces that dinner will have to be shorter than she hoped due to a work emergency. We order several different sushi rolls to share among the table and allow the conversation to flow as naturally as possible. Mom explains the hectic changes she’s dealing with at work and why it’ll be pulling her away sooner than she expected. Chance and I actively engage in the conversation by asking questions and for more details while both of my sisters sit on in silence, eyeballing my boyfriend like I can’t see them. Each time they flicker their attent
ion to him, Chance showers me in his, by stroking my hand or my arm or my leg. The constant closeness is usually appreciated, yet every time he takes a sweet action I can hear the sound of my sisters cackling in the back of my head and see them groping at him in his thong. I stay in a steady state of nausea that Sangria seems to do a decent job of mollifying. We talk a little about my dad when the meal is delivered, but not much. Knowing my mother keeps his memory locked up tight similar to the way I do, I change the subject to something easier to handle for all of us. My sisters chime in about their jobs, mock mine, and make less than clever remarks about Chance’s, eventually inquiring how it is we met to begin with. Daniella demands to know more about how we started dating and how long we’ve been together. The more information she has the more infuriated she seems to become. By the time Mom gets the call to rush back to the office, I am absolutely ready to go as well. Chance pays the check receiving praise from my mother and winks from my sisters.
There is not a single word exchanged between us on our ride back to Chance’s apartment. The radio sings mocking, melancholy tunes while thunder reverberates across the sky.
On the elevator, my phone vibrates in my purse, summoning me to check it.
Birdie: No need to worry. All the windows are closed.
I attempt to smile at the text.
Last time it rained, she left one of her windows open, and I spent hours drying off soaked bird figurines.
We’re leaked out onto his floor, and I follow Chance to his apartment.
As soon as the door is closed with us on the other side, he sighs, “Babe, this silence is killing me.”
I stroll further into his home to toss my phone on the kitchen counter.
“Plus your chi is completely unaligned and your energy level…” his voice trails off, but his body remains stationary. “Your energy level is pernicious. It’s fucking killing mine, and the only thing I wanna do is heal it.”
My body turns so my back is braced against the edge of the kitchen counter. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I did!” Chance argues from where he’s leaning on the door. “I stood up to your sisters! I extended my love towards you time and time again during dinner. I-”
“Not at dinner,” my voice struggles to stay firm. “Before. Why didn’t you tell me you had danced for them before?”
“Babe, I didn’t know they were your sisters.” His shoulders drop. “It’s not like you’d ever shown me pictures of them or anything that would’ve given me an early clue. Not to mention I don’t know most of the women who come into the castle by name. And even if I had known, I wouldn’t have been allowed to say anything. It’s against the contract I signed.”
I do my best to find my understanding of the situation, yet the negative effects of the alcohol comes bubbling out of me. “That’s stupid!”
Chance’s eyebrows lift in shock.
“Shouldn’t I have the right to know if my family is seeing you in the same way I get to see you?” Shaking my head, I retract my previous statement, “Excuse me, not in the same way I get to see you. I’ve never seen you dance. I’ve never seen you strip. I’ve never experienced what it’s like to be in the chair and the center of your career for the two minutes or twenty-two minutes that those women get to have you as theirs.”
“They never get to have me as theirs, Sydney.”
The statement sends my bottom lip out of sight.
“I get paid to do a job. Never anything more.” He crosses over to stand right in front of me. “You’re the chick I come home to every. Night. You are the chick I fantasize about. You are the yin to my yang, babe. They’re just static. Noise.”
A feeling of relief washes over me, expelling a heavy sigh from my lips.
Chance lets a smile crawl onto his complexion. “That’s a little better….” He takes both my hands into his and begins to move us towards his couch. “How about I give you a private dance?”
“Right now?
I’m lowered onto the edge of his couch at the same time he states, “Right now.”
Unsure of how to react or what to expect, I nervously toy with my bag before deciding it’d be a better idea to just take it off.
All of sudden, the light in the apartment dims and a familiar song begins to flood the surround sound. Chance slides into view directly across from me during the opening line. He pops and locks his way a bit closer until the chorus of “MOMMAE” By Jay Park begins. On beat, he drops to his knees and glides my direction through a series of bounces and body rolls.
Thrill tears through my expression as his hands clamp onto my knees, pulling them apart to the rhythm of the music. The grip isn’t forceful but reminds me who is in charge. Who is really at the mercy of who. He pushes himself away by the cushion between my thighs before making his way back onto his feet. There’s a change of pace introduced into the song that he uses to shed his shirt. Each movement he executes is flawless. The beat is never abused. A note is never neglected. An opportunity to impress is never missed. In a slew of succulent spins and a sea of slick sways, my mind is swirling in anticipation while my pussy soaks my thin string of underwear.
Chance uses the chorus to move closer again. However, this time, his jeans are cast away.
The moment his body is completely naked I let out a heady moan.
His flashes me a cocky grin at the same time he drops his hands to my shoulders. He tries to maintain his concentration as he rolls his stiffening cock towards me, but struggles.
My hand firmly wraps around it causing him to hiss. “You’re not allowed to touch the dancer, babe.”
I playfully counter, “But I am allowed to touch my boyfriend.”
He ceases his actions. “Exactly.”
A sheepish smile slips onto my face as I realize the point he was aiming to make. He lowers his lips to mine, and our tongues wildly mesh together. Chance’s body overpowers mine with minimal effort. In one brisk motion, he yanks up my brown fitted skirt to tear off my panties. His hands pin mine above my head while his cock invades the wetness waiting for him. He uses his legs to wedge mine wider and tenderly pumps. My body bows off the couch during each blow; his name being sung like it’s the verse, the chorus, and the melody. Our parted lips bump together allowing only split seconds for our tongues to tangle. I don’t hold on to the orgasm that’s ready to take the stage. I don’t bother using breathing techniques to prolong its manifestation. I simply shut my eyes and succumb to the relentless rocking of Chance’s hips. The weight of his breath on my neck and ear. I let go of the lingering resentment to be floated away by ecstasy.
He groans his own contentment near my ear. “That’s right, babe. You’re the only one who comes on my cock.” Chance thrusts harder to reiterate his point. “The only person I yang.”
The decree is accompanied with several fiery bursts inside of me. I whimper through the magnitude of his orgasm melding mine and the impact of his speech. In a faint voice, I croak back, “You’re the only person I yin, Chance.”
Another groan graces my ears seconds before his mouth frantically searches for mine.
Our tongues and limbs become intertwined as we soar towards the Nirvana we only find with one another.
Jealousy is such an ugly emotion. We’ll have to be more careful if it rears its beastly head in the future. While it has a track record of causing us to face the truths we don’t enjoy facing, it also has a tendency to threaten our togetherness. Hopefully, we’ll discover a more peaceful way to handle it rather than argue. Though, I do like the making up process….
13
Chance
Lucius, our in house doctor, inserts the needle into my skin at the same time he questions, “Any changes to your health or diet I should be aware of? Have you been eating poppy seed bagels or bread again?”
“No, but I did try to learn a K-Pop routine and almost fucked up my ankle,” I confess in a playful tone.
His salt and pepper colored eyebrows lift. “For work?”
&
nbsp; “Recreational. My girl is really into it, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
Lucius chuckles though he keeps his eyes on the small vile.
All of a sudden, Fresh Meat’s face appears in the doorway. “Queen is requesting your presence.”
My eyes meet his. “Mine or Doc’s?”
“Yours.”
I nod my understanding and watch Lucius finish up.
Honestly, don’t mind the once a month pricking. It’s nice to be given a clean bill of health every month, not to mention see the increase or decrease in my body fat. Thankfully, there hasn’t been much fluctuation in that department. Arik and Hunter both gave me shit, swearing the early part of relationships is where you put on pounds, but so far, nada. Maybe we’re more active than they were in the beginning, or maybe we just ate fewer calories than we burned off.
After I’m bandaged, I head straight for Queen’s office. The door swings open wide, not giving me the opportunity to knock. Brock’s lips curl into a devious smirk that causes me to grin in return. We exchange a subtle fist bump before I enter the black and gold decorated room.
Queen’s face looks mildly flushed and her lipstick is slightly smeared. Rather than comment, I politely wait for her to reapply, and tuck her makeup out of sight.
“You wanted to see me, Queen?”
She leans back in her chair and takes one long look at me. “I did.”
The unusual commotion clouding her eyes pushes me to question, “Am I in trouble?”
“Hm….” Her hands fold themselves in her lap. “There’s been a change in this week’s schedule. You will be taken out of rotation tomorrow night because there’s a new employee I need to test run. You are expected, however, to remain in house in case things change or a private dance is requested.”
Concern covers my expression. “New? Did you dismiss someone?”
“Prince L.”
Just saw him last weekend! He thought my birthday weekend stories were fucking fantastic.
“May I ask why?”
“For fucking a client.”
I wince at the crime.