by Belvin, Love
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were preoccupied. I’ll just wait until you’re done,” Dawns spoke apologetically. I can tell the last thing she expected was seeing me perched in his lap. I feel a twitch of victory deep down. Azmir never utters a word to Dawn.
He really is in a foul mood.
“Is there anything else, Molly?” he bit out.
Molly pivots a little closer into the door frame. “Uhhh…yes, sir. My shift is over. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go downstairs and enjoy the festivities while I give that fax from New York City time to come through, sir.” She was asking to be dismissed for the day only to continue work later—non-mandatory I ascertain.
“Indeed. Lock the elevator. If anyone needs me defer to Kareem or Tracy,” Azmir gruffly orders. “Goodnight.”
This is so not like him.
“Sure,” Molly humbly says with a nod before closing the door behind her.
I turn my head back to him and murmur, “What’s the problem, Jacobs?”
He places his forehead against mine and shakes his head.
Once again, I lift his chin to search his eyes. He, in turn, studies mine. The next thing I know, he slightly leans his head in a familiar manner—something he does when he’s prepared to orally embrace me. As his face approaches mine, I’m ready. I follow his aggressive kiss with great welcome. My hands find their way to his head as our tongues engage in a sweet dance. It lasts for an eternity and in no time, I’m caught up.
Azmir grabs me by the waist and lifts me onto his desk. He pulls my feet up to the armrests of his desk chair. My heels hook onto the handles. He pulls back from our embrace. My eyes are dancing at the suspense. What is he doing? He buries his face into my crotch and gives a long and hard inhale with his eyes closed. When they open, they’re drunken with clear desire. I sit there with my hands stapled to his desk, watching him and I can’t help but to be turned on by this. Azmir reaches for my panties and pull them down and over my boots. Once off, he balls them in his fist, lifts them to his nose and inhales again.
“Damn, I’ve missed you,” he whispers, seemingly much to himself.
My mouth drops and opens simultaneously. I am delighted in lust. He carefully places my panties at the end of his desk. I watch his every movement in slow motion. Next, he throws his face in between my thighs. He licks, strokes, grazes, and dips his tongue and masterfully drags his teeth the full length of my valley. My body reclines and hands grips the back of his head. Azmir is on a mission and for some reason, I detect that I have little to do with what’s behind this sexual fury. But in this moment, I don’t care what the cause is. I’m pleasured by the fact that he is using me to remedy it. He’s taking it out on my body in a way that brings us both bliss and relief.
I experience a transitory touch of reality and am reminded that I’m spread out on his office desk. Typically, this would bring halt to my randy state, but it had the opposite effect on me just as it had a few months back in his office at the rec. I feel my inner freak being unleashed as my body trembles at every swipe of his deft tongue.
In a rapid move, Azmir scoops me off the desk and lowers me onto his lap. He’s entering me and I’m left to find my balance. My legs are aside his upper arms and his hands are planted on my hips. Azmir is in. Deep. He lifts me and let me down onto himself for his pleasure. I grip his shoulders, keeping him arm’s length as I take in all of his fullness. He’s buried so tightly that I feel him pulsating inside of me. I let out a stifled moan. His breathing grows distressed.
“Rayna…you mean…so much…to me. Stay with me…stay forever,” he manages over my lunges onto his lap.
Unable to focus my eyes, I try to look deep into his…unsuccessfully. I give up. He knows in this condition I’d agree to anything with him. My head was clouded, filled with erotic expressions of A.D.. I hear the sounds of his firm length slamming into me and the slapping of my anterior flesh meeting his hard thighs. The cords in Azmir’s neck bulges, telling of his forceful pushes and pullings of my heated frame.
“Yes…yes, baby…I will!” I assure.
Eventually his hands make their way to my lower back as he slams me into his lap. At this point my body tightens and I am overtaken by his diligence…by his strength, pushing me down and lifting me up…and his promising words. I’m there. I’m ascending. My body convulses as my joints stiffen in orgasmic readiness. I bite my lips together as not to scream in his office.
“Yes, baby girl…let it out,” he sings just before he joins me in my outer orbit float. Azmir grunts his pleasure against me as his face collapse into my breasts and I welcome him.
We sit there for a few seconds catching our breaths. As I’m being cast back down from orbit, reality settles in. My Azmir isn’t himself. What was this all about? I want to help and comfort beyond lovemaking.
“Hey, what was that all about?” I whisper warmly.
Azmir grabs my face and slams his lips into mine, demanding my tongue, which I offer up with little reservation. His tongue takes long draws into my mouth, sweeping the entire reservoir—greedily. I grab the back of his head to balance myself in an attempt to keep up. He was communicating something, though I was quite sure it wasn’t to me, it was through me. I allow him and relish in his abrasiveness. Azmir eventually withdraws and brings his forehead to meet mine. We sit this way for a moment before he lifts and whisks me into his en suite bathroom where we clean up in private. When I’m done, I watch penetratingly as Azmir brushes his teeth. He takes notice of my gaping as he rinses his mouth.
He wipes his mouth dry and lays his towel on the wall rack. I squinted my eyes at him in playful annoyance. He snorts and reaches down to passionately kiss me. He rests the side of his lengthy body and his head against the frame of the bathroom door and smirks. There’s the panty-snatching smirk. I fold my arms in my abdomen messaging to him that I’m not letting up.
Azmir lets out a brief sexy chortle, “Brimm, it’s nothing in particular. A man with my level of responsibility can grow weary from time to time and need to blow off steam. It’s just the nature of the business, you being gone, and…shit—me seeing you in this dress and boots…that brings it all to a head,” he murmurs as he comes down to plant a wet kiss on me.
I smile and take him at his word. Frankly, I’m glad to be his method of release. “Okay,” I acquiesce. “I like you discharging your frustrations in—I mean, on me,” I muttered salaciously.
He showers me with soft kisses around my face. “Good. Because I’m not done. I have more ammunition to unload,” he shoots back as he continues to lay the soft kisses down my neck.
“You need to refresh your lipstick. I’ve smudged it. And I want to smudge it again when we get home. Let’s go say goodnight, Ms. Brimm.”
Downstairs, the second act is finishing up on stage. She’s a young female with a jazzy resonance to her sound. I’ve heard this cut on the radio. It was nice to put a face to a voice.
As we approach his friends, just about all the men in V.I.P. rise to greet Azmir. He quickly daps all of them before announcing to Petey that we were leaving. I was reading Petey’s expressions and could tell he asked Azmir if was everything okay. I guess me staying at bay didn’t help. I stood near the velvet rope. I know I had washed up, but I would die of horror if anyone had an inkling of what just took place upstairs in Azmir’s office. I knew by me standing there like that made me look awkward, but I didn’t want to risk anything. Besides, Azmir made it clear that we weren’t staying and that was final. I waved goodbye to everyone and realized the ladies were too preoccupied with the show to care. We left Cobalt under our own agenda.
Hours later, back at the high-rise, Azmir and I are laid out in front of the fireplace wrapped in sheets after hours of lovemaking. I’m in euphoria after the expressions of love we’ve just exchanged. We’re talking and laughing, which is what I appreciate about our chemistry. Azmir and I laugh together. We talk about varying topics such as politics and pop culture. I guess anything is easier than discussing o
ur pasts.
“Nah. My jokes are Kevin Hart type funny and yours are like…Tommy Davidson!” Azmir noted, mildly laughing.
I gasp with furrowed brows. “And what’s the difference between the two?”
“Hart is pee your pants funny and Davidson is just silly…desperate for a laugh funny,” he informs and we both laugh.
I’m on my back wrapped in expensive Egyptian cotton sheets that feels delightful against my skin. The fire is burning calmly and it creates a romantic glow in the room.
“I’m thirsty. You want something to drink…wine…brandy?” Azmir offers as he wraps his waist in sheets, to my dismay, and heads into the kitchen.
“Juice will be fine. I’m thirsty myself. You’ve had me perspiring since we walked through the door! I need to rehydrate. I think the nightcap should’ve come before the smashing,” I playfully chastised.
With his eyebrows narrowed and eyes squinted he quips, “I’m sorry. I didn’t get the impression I was imposing.” Then he takes a few moments to consider what I’ve said before admitting, “Okay, so maybe you didn’t have a choice in the matter,” with a bashful smirk.
Azmir comes back with tall glasses of juice for the both of us and hands me mine.
“In all seriousness, are you okay with my moms staying at your place?” Azmir asks. Yazmine has been at my place since the day after the Brian Thompson fiasco. I didn’t fight with him as he made the call after leaving the debriefing with Bacote & Taylor Public Relations Team. I knew better than to fight with him.
“Oh, yeah. At least the place isn’t there just decaying. I mean, that week or so that I was there was rough for the first few days. I tried to make myself comfortable, but there was still no life there. I think it’s a great idea. She seems to be comfortable. I saw she’s put up photos on the walls in the living room already.”
“She just came off a twenty-plus stint and it’s like she was in a time warp. The décor in there is so Brooklyn 1970s,” Azmir says ruefully. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well if she wants, I can get her a new mattress. It’s weird having her on the same one I’ve smashed her beloved son on,” I said in jest as Azmir’s phone goes off. This time it’s his iPhone. As soon as he answers it, his Blackberry goes off. Because it’s so late, I wonder who’s calling.
“Peace-peace,” he greets in his thick Brooklyn accent. It always amazes me how thick that New York twang was in so many of his pronunciations considering he’s lived in Chicago and L.A. since there. I was actually turned on by it. Even Jersey girls can’t get enough of New York men.
“Where?” Azmir roars into the phone as he gathers his sheet around his naked waist again and goes into his study in search of something. I sit up alarmed. Here we go again. I’d just forgotten about the mean and cold Azmir that I’d gotten a glimpse of in Cobalt earlier, now he’s returned.
He comes back into the living room with his laptop. “What’s the address again?” he growls into the phone. Then he types on the keyboard. After a few seconds, he says, “Yes, she’s here. Let me holla at her and get back to you. Yeah.” He hits a button before tossing the phone to the other side of the sofa.
I sit on the floor in front of the fire, in silence as he views whatever’s on the laptop. I think I hear Caribbean music, but why would he be listening to anything related to that? It ends and he places the laptop on the glass coffee table and snaps, “What the fuck is this, Rayna?”
~~~~~~~~~~
Rayna
Flushed with bemusement, I look at him and immediately to the computer screen as a video plays. It’s a low quality recording, clearly from a mobile phone that shows a woman giving a man—apparently very dark skinned man, judging by the shade of his penis—fellatio. You couldn’t get a full view of the female, but there were footage of the male who spoke with a thick Caribbean accent. The videographer was a female and rooted the fellatio-giver on.
Then…what the fuck! Is that Michelle in the background, periodically licking the man’s balls and the base of his penis. She appeared to be drunk and silly. She was cheering the female on as well. It hit me like a ton of bricks: the other girls were Britni and April! I could make out Britni’s voice, pumping them up. Yup! That was definitely Britni, which could only mean that the woman going down on the guy was April. Again, you see Michelle dip in to pleasure the man with licks and groping. Tears began to flood my eyes.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, aghast.
“It’s all over the fucking Internet. This shit has gone viral!” Azmir shouted.
I mumble, “Oh, my god, Michelle.” Bile rise from my belly as a gag; I then quickly cupped my mouth. After managing it back down my esophagus, I tried to regain my breath. The tears began to drop uncontrollably.
“Was this what you guys did in The Bahamas before I got there?” he hissed.
My eyes flew up at him as he was hovering over me. I realize he thinks I was there with them.
“Azmir,” I said unable to hide my defensiveness. “You don’t think that was me recording my best friend degrading herself do you?”
He gave me a callous glower.
Wait a minute. Oh, no!
“You think it was me giving another man head on the vacation you’d paid for?” I theorized slowly.
His eyes softened, but not by much. Azmir maintained his daggered gawk.
“Azmir, I swear on everything I have, I was not there when this was shot. I didn’t even know this tape existed until a few seconds ago,” I said in all candor.
“Lady Spin released it earlier on the radio show she webcasts. She’s saying it’s a tape of Divine’s girl, giving a native head on the vacation he paid for her and her girls,” he quoted with still a hint of accusation in his tone.
“Azmir, I didn’t hang out with them the whole time out there. I told you before that trip that those bitches were not my friends,” I spewed, trying to prove to him that I was telling the truth. “If you recall, when you showed up, I was alone. They had gone out earlier that night and I stayed behind!” I exclaimed.
“Well, why the fucking tears when you were watching the tape?” he barked.
“Because I see my dead best friend giving head to a stranger in her wake! Can you imagine how fucked up this is?” I screamed while balling my eyes out.
He stormed his way towards the bedroom. I collapsed into the couch, crying uncontrollably. Seconds later, I heard Azmir tread into his office.
My heart shattered in a million pieces. I can’t believe people are viewing my dear friend this way. How many people have watched it? Has it hit her family? Does Erin know about it? So many questions flooded my mind. Images of her from that tape wrung my heart dry. Why would Lady Spin release such damaging footage? Is she that bruised over Azmir? Did she have to drag me into it? She had to have gotten the tape from Britni who knew damn well I wasn’t there. I knew I was going to have to put that bitch over my knee!
Lord, I know I’ve been working on my temper and language, but there are just some trifling ass people who will bring you back!
After I exhausted all of my thoughts, I saw that it was after two in the morning. Azmir was still hauled up in his office. I was too emotional to face him. I showered and cried some more in there, allowing the water to cascade over my tears. I began to think about how Azmir all but accused me of being the woman in the video. Does he think that little of me? I tried to convince him that it wasn’t me. I won’t again. He’ll have up take me at my word or not at all.
That night I decided to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. There was no way that I would sleep in the bed of a man who believes of me to be a harlot. Azna followed me, trotting down the hall to the second guestroom.
This room was dark and modernized with smooth brown walls and mahogany hardwood floors. The king sized bed was mounted on an ivory platform with a high headboard and was covered with a chocolate brown text-tiled quilted comforter that resembled small concrete blocks trimly stacked on top of each other. There was an off whi
te chaise placed catty-cornered in the corner of the room with brown and ivory throw pillows neatly placed on it. Over the bed, a dark brown jeweled chandelier hung. The poster sized artwork displayed on the wall appropriately blended with the jazzy motif of the room and the flat screen television mounted to the wall added practicability to the room.
Although I knew he’d hired an interior decorator for this place, it once again reminded me of Azmir’s impeccable taste. He approved and even designed much of the swanky and prodigiousness. This man’s genius and creativity knew no bounds. As I lay on the firm mattress, I realized how luxurious it was, like the one in the master suite. But nothing compared to that one because that’s where Azmir lays his head at night and the linens smelled of him. No one has ever slept in this bed not even Mr. Jacobs himself. My thoughts went blue again and I fought them off to finally sleep.
I’m sitting down in an outdoor dining area at an amusement park. I look across to find Michelle looking her usual preoccupied yet beautiful self. I don’t know what we were chatting about, but she was assuring me that everything would be okay.
“Na-Na, you know everything is going to work out in your favor at the end, right?” she says with a huge smile while eating her frozen yogurt. “You just have to be patient and wait for things to fall into place. You worry too much about what you have very little control over,” Michelle declares as she takes a heartfelt laugh at my expense.
The sky is the perfect shade of blue, as the sun doesn’t give too brutal of a shine. Kids are carelessly playing in the background, wondrously taking in all the youthful spectacles of the park.
“I gotta go now,” she says so casually.
I’m unable to speak in this dream. I can only listen. But I am visibly upset at the announcement of her departure. She takes notice and cheerfully says, “Na-Na, you’ll be fine. Girl, you know I’ll see you later! I just have to send the letter off before the post office closes.” Her smile is warm.