I sucked in air. Let out a sigh. Kept my eyes open even though they wanted to close.
“Shit, Corey.”
He smiled.
“Fuck, damn, Corey.”
His smile deepened.
Just as I’d thought. He liked my voice. Liked a vocal woman. That was missing with Tanya. He needed to hear my pleasure, not just see it, feel it. I’d give him that. Give him anything he wanted or needed.
I whispered, “You gonna fuck me?”
He slid down my panties, dropped to a knee, traced my hip bones with his fingers, then kissed them, then licked them, all the while a finger buried deep in my warm, wet spot.
“Oh, shit, Corey. Oh, shit.”
He kissed the inside of my thighs.
I thanked Jesus, Mary, P. Diddy and the Seven Dwarfs.
He kissed my stomach. Licked my belly button. Sucked my outty.
I thanked the Lord, Moses, Mary J Blige and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.
I imagined him eating my pussy. Then he was. Eating my pussy.
It caught me off guard for some reason.
I jumped, felt an electric surge moving through my body. It was such a sudden reaction. He was right on the spot, just below my clit; his warm tongue lit me like a match. My eyes started to tear. I didn’t moan. It was too electric, too powerful, too sudden a feeling for a moan. I cried out.
He said, “Yeah, baby.”
“Oh, shit. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“You like it, baby. You like it, Tan—”
That was just as sudden. I pushed him away from me.
He sat down hard on his ass.
I couldn’t look at him. I pulled my panties up, adjusted them, pulled on my jeans.
“Dawn?”
I snapped, “What?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t. Don’t get dressed. I have to make love to you.”
I heard emphasis on that one word.
I said, “Have to?”
“Have to,” he said, nodding, more boy than man.
“I’m going down to the lounge.”
Defeated, he said, “Give me a little while to clear my head. I’ll call your cell.”
My lip trembled but I nodded. I walked out. Left him sitting on his ass.
Left him thinking about Tanya.
The bar/lounge area had a nice color scheme, shades of burgundy and tan. The lighting was dim. There weren’t many people in the area. I settled in a seat at the bar and quickly ordered a Grey Goose with Red Bull. An Alicia Keys song was playing softly in the background. She was kissing her lover like she’d never see him again. I hummed it to myself and thought about all my dreams that had been deferred. All of the lovers I’d never seen again. I thought about Corey.
There was a man at the other end of the bar. He was sitting there, pretending to be lost in his drink, acting all casual and nonchalant. He was about forty-five, custom fitted in a nice suit that let the world know he still worked out, had no intentions of letting his body go to seed in the near future. His hair was cut close and he was a shade or two darker than I was. From where I sat, it looked like his watch was a Piaget. The watch was on his left wrist. He had a thick gold, diamond-encrusted bracelet on his right wrist, and each time he lifted his glass to sip his drink he shook his sleeve down so the glimmer of his bracelet would catch everyone’s eye. He was a low-key show-off, but a show-off just the same.
I chose him. He’d be the one. He looked up at one point, and I looked at him, held my gaze for a minute, then back to my drink.
It didn’t take long for him to move. He slid into the seat next to me.
I didn’t speak or look in his direction. Didn’t acknowledge his presence.
After a while he said, “Let’s not pretend there isn’t an attraction here,” in a deep baritone that was meant for the radio.
Corey had a voice for the radio and a body for the television.
My husband did, too.
This guy was the third point of that triangle.
I turned to him. Still didn’t say anything. Just studied him. His skin was smooth, no razor bumps. He had wide shoulders and strong-looking hands that would probably have felt wonderful wrapped around my waist like a shawl.
He asked, “You drinking alone?”
I said, “I was.”
He smiled at that. Asked me what was my poison.
I said, “Men.”
He chuckled, said, “How about a cranberry and Grey Goose?”
I shook my head, said, “Take mine with Red Bull.”
He ordered my drink.
He asked, “What’s your name?”
“Dawn.”
“Married, Dawn?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t flinch.
I said, “And you?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t flinch.
I said, “Your wife isn’t in this hotel is she?”
“Home with the kids,” he offered. There was no emotion in his voice. He asked, “Your husband isn’t in this hotel is he?”
I said, “What if I told you he was upstairs on the fourth floor?”
He said, “Then I’d just go on and mind my business on the second floor.”
“Giving up that easy?” I teased.
“Not looking for any problems, Dawn. I’m allergic to problems.”
I said, “Are you looking to fuck? ’Cause I am.”
He studied me for a moment. “You’re hardcore.”
“And you’re not?”
“I can be,” he admitted.
I said, “Be.”
I was Jo Min’s daughter, Clarence’s daughter.
He smiled, nodded his head.
I said, “I didn’t get your name.”
“I didn’t give it.”
I said, “I’d like to know who I’m about to fuck.”
“Secrets make the heart grow fonder.”
“Thought it was absence that did that.”
He said, “Yeah. That, too.”
I liked him. I reached in my pocketbook, took out my cell phone.
He asked, “Checking in with the hubby?”
“Turning this off,” I said.
When Corey called he wouldn’t get through.
I was Clarence’s daughter.
I stood from my seat. Man-with-no-name did the same.
He led me to his room on the second floor. We endured a silent elevator ride, a silent walk through the halls.
“Parlor Suite,” he said as I crossed the threshold into his room.
I said, “It’s nice.” Then I looked him square in the eyes. “But you better not be.”
“Better not be?”
I said, “Nice.”
He nodded. “Get undressed, Dawn.”
“You don’t waste time do you?” I said, playing the role.
He repeated, “Get undressed, Dawn.”
“Why don’t you undress me?”
He moved to me, ripped open my white blouse. Buttons popped. I didn’t even care. Ironic, but he removed my blouse carefully after he’d already ruined it. He gently undid my jeans, pulled them off of me. Didn’t have the difficulty Corey had. Dropped to his knees and moved aside my panties. He didn’t take them off, just slid them aside. I opened my legs to allow him easy entry. He made a motion as if he was about to perform oral. I intercepted that, put my hand on his head, told him, “Just finger me.” I didn’t want another man’s tongue on my sweet spot that day.
He fingered me. My legs started to tremble. I held onto the wall for purchase. I bit into my lip.
“Shit.”
His finger was inside me, making a come-here motion, probing for my G-spot. I loved a skilled lover. He thumbed my clit at the same time. I loved a skilled lover.
“Oh, God…” It felt like I was going to pee.
I was unbelievably wet.
He said, “Someone’s excited.”
“Fuck me. Now.”
<
br /> I liked it a bit rough, and he seemed to pick up on that fact without me having to tell him. He pushed me across the room, bent me over a chair. I heard him undoing his pants. It took him a minute. Sounded like he was fumbling through his pockets, too. Thought he might be putting on a condom. Then he entered me. Fucked me from behind. It was a perfect fit. I moaned with joy on his in stroke. Sucked in air on his out stroke. Moaned again on the in stroke. The cushion from the chair was soft to lean on. I needed a soft cushion.
I managed, “You…wearing…a condom?” I couldn’t tell, I was so wet.
He didn’t answer.
I reached behind me and tried to investigate for myself. He slapped my hand away. It felt too good to continue worrying. I gave in to the passion of the moment. Common sense and good judgment tossed aside for hot sex.
He grabbed my hair, tugged at it. That just heightened my ecstasy.
I said, “Suck my neck. Mark me.”
He did. Sucked it, bit it.
“Fuck this pussy.”
He gripped me around the waist, and put his deepest stroke in me.
I could feel his dick in my stomach. I swear.
“Shit.”
He was surprisingly mute. I didn’t care. I enjoyed his masterly stroke.
He pulled out.
I asked, “What are you doing? I was about to come.” It was a whine.
“I’m gonna fuck your ass.” He showed me a small can—Eros Bodyglide.
“No way, chief. That I don’t do.”
He grabbed my hair again, yanked it. I closed my eyes as he opened the lubrication, lathered on the Eros. I felt pressure on my ass, a slow entry, then a slight burn, and then it all settled. I grimaced at first. Then I felt a new pleasure.
He was fucking my ass slow and I was enjoying it.
All my nerve endings were sparking.
I said, “Damn you.”
His right hand was on my clit at the same time.
“Oh, God…”
He moved into me, slowly and expertly. He’d done this before obviously.
He asked, “Are you a dirty whore?”
Terry had treated me like one. Corey had made me feel like one.
I said, “Yes.”
CHAPTER 15
NIKKI
I said, “Y’all must be out of your fucking minds.”
“Calm down, Nikki. Would you at least hear us out, please?”
That was Sela. She had her hand on my wrist, stroking me with her thumb, trying to hypnotize me with her soothing voice.
Shit wasn’t gonna work. There was a volcano rumbling inside of me.
I looked around me. Zelda was playing the quiet role. Sela was Sela; she didn’t ever really change. Always composed, laid-back, always with a smile on her face like she had some shit on you. Ridley’s wide eyes let me know he was too much of a bitch to get up in some angry bitches’ shit.
Sela said, “Are you calm now, Nikki?”
I gave her a fake smile, said, “I’m fine.”
“Good.”
“But you still get a big fat fuck you.”
“Oh, Nikki.”
Zelda spoke finally. “Typical of her. I knew her gutter ghetto ass was gonna show.”
I ignored that, said, “A little while ago you were upstairs rubbing on me and shit, kicking it to me on the sly, Sela. And for what? Because you knew you were about to betray me, bitch? I really can’t believe this shit. After everything I’ve been through.”
Zelda’s voice took over the room. I fell back. “What is she talking about, Sela?”
Sela’s eyes tightened. She gave me a serious ice-grill. I didn’t give a fuck. Fuck you, bitch, thank you very much.
“What is she talking about, Sela?”
Sela muttered something, then stepped away from me, found the countertop to lean on. Zelda was on her heels, asking that same question over and over, a fucking broken record. Sela ran her fingers through her hair. Tense. Good. I didn’t give a fuck. Let them two bitches rip each other’s throats out.
Ridley was all up in my space. I said, “You better back the fuck up.”
Two steps back, he gave me that. Cool, cool.
He said, “Now. Can we speak reasonably?”
“Say whatever the fuck you’ve got to say. I’m listening.”
“Zelda and Sela have come up with a plan that suits everyone. Most importantly your unborn child. That’s who this is all about. They’d like to raise your baby in a happy, safe, loving environment.”
I looked over by the counter. Sela had turned, was facing Zelda. The tightness was gone from her eyes. They were talking, softly, working out their issues.
I wish James and me could have done the same thing.
Ridley said, “Think of the baby. Think of its best interests.”
Tears filled my eyes, my throat got tight.
I said, “No one in here feels as if I’m capable of raising my own baby. Damn. That shit hurts bad.”
I wanted to wipe away the tears, wipe away that liquid weakness, but I didn’t. Fuck it.
Ridley said, “That is not at all how any of us feel, Nikki. Zelda and Sela very much respect you. They desire for you to play an integral role in this child’s development.”
I wasn’t gonna allow Ridley to speak for Zelda. Fuck that shit.
I looked at her, my closest friend, my only real friend. We went back to ninth grade, my first year of high school. She’d saved my life; she was a woman I looked up to. I yelled across the kitchen to her, “That true, bitch?”
Zelda warned, “Don’t call me out of my name, Nikki.”
“Whatever.”
She had Sela’s hand in hers. “You’ve already done enough harm up in here. I’m not standing for any more.”
Tears and anger were a bad match.
I said, “You want me to be an auntie to my own fucking child?”
“That child deserves more than you’re capable of giving it, Nikki.”
Damn. My throat burned from the tears. I said, “Thank you. Now I know how you really feel about me, you phony bitch.”
She let go of Sela’s hand and took a few hard steps toward me. I didn’t care. I’d fight her if need be. Some old school shit. Take off your jewelry and get the Vaseline shit. But she stopped. About five feet shy of me. I noticed she was trembling. Emotional. We were all so emotional.
She said, “Real talk, like you say?”
I nodded. “Real talk.”
“It’s your lifestyle choices, Nikki. I don’t mean to be hard but…”
Something the size of an apple lodged itself in my throat.
I whispered, “I’ve stopped dancing.”
“But not abusing drugs.”
That shocked me. I’d never done a drug in my life. Ever. “Drugs? Me? Never. When have you known me to do drugs?”
Zelda said, “I know. But the life you were living, the world you were in, I’m sure that changed you.”
“It did,” I admitted. “But drugs, never.”
Zelda shook her head. “We found things.”
I furrowed my brows. “We?”
“Sela and I.”
“Things like what?”
“Paraphernalia.”
I laughed at that, went ahead and wiped my eyes.
Zelda said, “This is all so funny?”
I said, “Take off the tint.”
“What?”
“You said that to me when I first came here, all fucked up in the game over James. I was still talking foolish, even after what he did. Still wanting him. You said, ‘Take off the tint.’”
“I remember. Love blinds you.”
I nodded. “Take off the tint, Zee.”
She looked at me, hard. Sela was behind her, mouth and eyes both tight.
I said, “I’ve never done drugs. Never even experimented. Take off the tint. Talk to your wife about that paraphernalia.”
Ridley said, “Oh boy.”
Sela shook her head, kept doing that.
/> Zelda looked at me, then slowly at Sela, then back to me again.
Ridley said, “This is all getting very hurtful, and there’s no need for that.”
No need? He had nerve. He wasn’t in my fucking shoes.
No one was questioning his fitness to be a parent.
I said to him, “My mother, Hot Mama, she raised me on her own. With help from my Big Mama, my grandmother. My father went to jail and died in there. Hot Mama didn’t handle that, or much of anything, very well. Our apartment was a revolving door for men. Hot Mama caught the package. AIDS. It fucked her up, Ridley. And I had to watch.” I paused, cleared the pain and regret from my throat. My eyes were flooded. “Her skin turned this funny shade of gray I’ll never forget. Hair got thin. And Hot Mama always had beautiful hair, so that was a shame. But worst of all…she smelled. Smelled liked death.”
Ridley said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Nikki. Those are difficult circumstances.”
I said, “Nigga, those are fucking walls.”
“Walls?”
“Roadblocks, obstacles, tribulations, whatever the fuck you want to call them. You’re the educated one. Fuck your difficult circumstances bullshit.”
“Okay. I’ll grant you that. I didn’t mean to trivialize it.”
“I don’t need you to grant me shit, nigga.”
Ridley moved close to me. Touched me with the gentle touch of a woman. His smile almost soothed me. Almost. He said, “I don’t want to cat fight, Nikki. That’s not what I’m here for. I want to help. That’s why I got into law. That’s why I went to Harvard. To help my people. The black community is in shambles, girl.”
I said, “If you really wanted to help your people you would have went to Howard instead of Harvard. Fucking Aunt Thomasina.”
That got him heated. I didn’t give a fuck.
He huffed, “Where did you matriculate, girl?”
I said, “Eff you.”
Ridley’s eyebrows rose. “Florida University?”
“No, nigga. Fuck you.”
“Oh. Well, that’s so very nice.”
I said, “Tell me about your mother, Ridley.”
He shrank away from me. “Excuse me?”
“I told you all about my mother. Tell me about yours, now.”
He considered my request for a moment.
Then he smiled. Fucking mama’s boy.
“We were very close, Nikki.”
“Were?”
“Ovarian cancer.” He said it like a bitch, no heft in his voice.
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