Cristal
The Hamptons!
I am standing on the balcony of my bedroom in the Ingrams’ house looking down at the Who’s Who at their all-white pool party. My eyes sweep the crowd and fall on Marc Ellison standing there looking fine as all get out in a white linen pants suit. The wind blows slightly and the thin linen attaches to his thighs and his dick. My eyes shift up to his face and he is looking at me. He raises his glass of champagne to me and I smile at him.
The gifts have not stopped—in fact I am wearing the white Gucci bathing suit he sent to me just yesterday. My man threw me out his house and stopped answering my phone calls. Oh, this just might be Marc’s lucky damn day.
Yes, Mohammed hurt me. It still hurts. He never came back to his house that day or that night or the next day. I sat there and I waited for him to come back. I called his cell phone endlessly. I left the kind of crying “please don’t go” voice mail that he could play to a crowd for laughs. He never came back.
I finally picked up my face and my things and went home but I drove back to his house late that same night. To see his beat down jeep finally parked there hurt. I wondered if he came home, saw my car still there and then just kept on moving. It took all the fight I had in me to drive back home.
It is over. Mohammed wanted it over and it is over.
I clear my throat and squint my eyes against the sun. It is a sorry attempt to push away my pain.
I will focus on living my life. I have to.
Hours later, Marc finally traps me in a corner of the cabana. I take a deep sip of my champagne as I am overwhelmed by his warm and delicious scent and his presence. He leans in closely to my neck. “God, you smell good,” his words whisper against my throat. “And you wear Gucci so damn well.”
I shiver a little as I turn my head slightly to take another sip of my champagne. “Yes, I do,” I tell him smugly.
“But I bet you look even better out of it.” He presses one kiss and then another to my neck as he brings his hands up to that deep curve of my waist. He does not cause the kind of sparks and electricity I receive from just being near Mohammed, but this warm fuzziness is nice. Shit, in the past I have slept with a lot worse.
My champagne glass slips from my hand as I bring it up to stroke the side of his face. I turn his head and press my lips to his just as the glass shatters against the cement floor of the cabana.
One of my eyes pops open as he damn near sticks his whole tongue down my throat. I ease my head back and take the lead to show this sexy millionaire just how to kiss a woman.
As he eases some of that tongue back inside his own damn head I let him press me down onto one of the plush lounge chairs. I try not to think of Mohammed and wish he was Mohammed as he kisses an overly moist trail down my neck. Lord, more and more I am feeling myself fall into bad sex. Damn. Damn. Damn.
He eases the straps of my bathing suit down exposing my breasts. I close my eyes and arch my back as I massage his broad shoulders through the thin linen of his shirt.
He rubs his fingers across my nipples and they tingle from his touch. Damn, they tingle so much they feel numb. He starts sucking and licking my nipples. I open my eyes just in time to see him use one hand to pour some white powder across my chest. “What is that?” I screech.
My question is useless as he lowers his head and snorts the powder from my body. Is that why my damn nipples feel like that?
“Man, get your cokehead ass off me,” I yell as I push against his shoulders.
“Huh? What?” he asks as he looks down at me.
Why am I just noticing how glassy his eyes are?
“I do not do coke,” I tell him as he finally rolls off me. I frown as he sits up on the edge of the lounge chair and pours more coke on the back of his hand to snort.
I grab a throw pillow from the lounge and wipe the coke powder from my chest before I ease the straps of my bathing suit back up onto my shoulders. My damn nipples are still numb as hell.
Marc laughs as he looks up at me. “You keep your nose up Carolyn’s ass and you don’t do coke? Man, what the fuck ever.”
Huh? What is that? Say what? Say who?
“Carolyn gets high?” I ask him as he wipes his nose with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.
He looks up at me and shakes his head at me like I am pitiful.
In the words of Dom: “What the fuck ever.”
I whip open the curtains of the cabana and step out into the pool party that is still in full effect. A servant carrying a tray of drinks grabs my arms.
“Mrs. Ingram wants to see you.”
“Good, because I want to see her too. Where is she?”
“In her bedroom suite,” she answers.
I breeze past her to walk into the house. I damn near run up the stairs and barge right into her suite. I stop in my tracks as my mouth drops open. What the fuck?
I close my eyes and try to erase the image of Carolyn butt naked and bent over touching her toes as some big-dick, tall, buff brother is stroking her from behind. What the fuck? Does she get off by me being in the room while some random man is sexing her?
“Oh, my, Danielle,” she purrs as she reaches back with a thin and wrinkled hand to his chest (you can have all the plastic surgery you want but them hands and neck NEVER lie). He backs right out of her. My eyes get wider because I am thinking I will never see the tip of his dick. Well goddamn.
As he struts by me naked with his dick swinging above his balls like a muscled arm, I try my best to keep my eyes above his waist. Shee-it. Tried . . . and failed. His dick is making a damn shadow on the floor! I gasp when he makes it do damn pushups in mid-air. Up and down. Up and down. My eyes jump up to his and he has the nerve to wink at me before he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. I turn to watch him leave the room. Okay, I have seen some dicks in my day but that has to be the biggest—
I swerve around at the feel of a finger stroking my nipple.
“Carolyn, what are you doing?” I ask as I push her hand away.
“I’m getting what I paid for,” she says in this voice that is slurred as she reaches again and snatches down the top of my bathing suit causing one of my breasts to pop free.
I feel disgust when she openly stares and then licks her collagenfilled lips. “What are you talking about?” I ask her as I step back and push my breast back inside my bathing suit from her view.
“Stop playing games, Danielle. I’ve waited long enough for that pussy.” She advances on me and quicker than I can blink this bitch has her hand between my legs palming my pussy.
I grab her wrist. “Carolyn, I am not gay.”
She flings her head back and laughs as she raises her hand and licks her tongue between the vee she makes with her fingers. “Neither was Kelle until I financed her dreams and licked that fat clit. That bitch used to beg me to eat her out.”
Kelle? I frown as she turns and walks away from me. Kelle? My mind flashes back to the woman from the restaurant screaming at Carolyn. So you don’t know me now, you old bitch?
“So you and Kelle were . . . were lovers?” I ask as she moves over to sit on the edge of her champagne silk covered bed and spread her legs wide to finger her pussy.
“Up until the day I saw you at the office. I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you that I wanted you and I always get what I want.” Carolyn rises from her bed, strutting her naked ass over to her closet. “And I get what I want because I give people what they want. Like fancy clothes, my friendship and the friendship of my wealthy and famous friends, their own business.”
That makes me pause. This bitch that I been hanging around is a wealthy lesbo cougar. Oh no, hell no. “So sometimes you feel like dicks and nuts, sometimes you don’t?” I snap sarcastically.
She laughs as she walks back out of her closet holding a wad of bills. I watch as she carelessly flings the money up into the air above the bed just before she climbs onto the middle of it. The money rains down on her body. “You feel like eating my pussy no
w, don’t you?”
“Carolyn, I’m sorry but you got the motherfuckin’ game twisted.” Oh, that hood shit always come through my ass when I’m pissed.
She climbs off the bed and walks over to me. Her hands grope my breasts as she pushes me back against the wall and tries to press her lips to my mouth. “I can make you feel so good,” she whispers.
When I feel Carolyn’s hands shifting my bathing suit to the side, I am repulsed. And when she attempts to slip her fingers inside of me I am fed the fuck up.
I push her off me to get just enough space to slap the hell out of that bitch and send her spinning across the room. I turn to walk out the room and pause at some random white bitch sucking off Big Dick Willie while Marc sits by snorting coke and jacking his own dick.
Marc looks up at me with glassy eyes.
I look at them all in disgust.
I walk out of that room and down that hall to my room. Quick as I can I throw as much of my shit as I can into my overnight case and pull a sweat suit over my bathing suit.
There is a knock on my door. “Danielle, I’m so sorry. Let me in, sweetheart.”
Crazy ass Carolyn. Wait on it bitch.
I walk onto my balcony and the party is still in full effect. Well, party on. As I walk down the outdoor wrought iron stairs leading to the lower level of the mansion, I flip my cell phone open. It’s time for me to get a one-way ride out of this jacked-up-ass world.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alizé
The last place I want to be is Braun, Weber. My ass is tired from having to jet out to the Hamptons and pick Cristal’s wannabe bougie ass up from some corner. Seem like she caught another glimpse of the lifestyles of the rich and famous that sent her scurrying her ass back to the real world with a quickness. Drugs, ménages à trois, and an aging lesbian was more than she could handle. Thank God. For real I thought that girl was tripping so hard on being something that she ain’t that she might just give Carolyn a good pussy licking. For real.
So, after listening to that crazy shit all night, I go home early this morning to get clothes only to find that my mama’s tenderoni spent the night. I’m headed in the bathroom for a shower and they were headed out after doing only God knows what in there. Of course, I had to scrub the tub with bleach before I could take a shower. I’m saying.
And now I might have to run into Cameron after he admits that he loves me Friday but then goes home with his wife.
I drop my pen and rub my hands through my hair as I lean back in my chair in my little cubicle. My cell phone vibrates and I lean forward to pick it up from my desk. I roll my eyes at Dr. Locke’s number.
Okay. I went running to Dr. Locke Friday night . . . and Saturday afternoon for a fuckfest to get my mind off my drama. By Saturday night I realized that riding and sucking and jacking and draining a big hard dick didn’t stop my heart from hurting. Plus, that fool asked me to pour hot candle wax on his nipples while I ride him. What the fuck?
I send the call to my voice mail and drop the phone back onto my desk. Dr. Locke is a freak and he needs to get his ass on somebody’s couch and find out why he get a kick out of being slapped and all kind of shit during sex. His ass is one therapist who needs therapy. For real.
I have that weird feeling that someone is watching me and I swivel around in my chair and my eyes fall on the elevator. Cameron is standing in the rear of the elevator with his eyes locked on me as people get off. I openly stare back at him just as the doors begin to close.
I jump up from my desk so suddenly that my chair rolls back and hits my desk. I get over to the elevator as quick as my Manolos can get me to it. I push the button like it stole something from me and the doors slowly go in reverse and open. Cameron looks up at me in nothing but surprise as I step on and stand in front of him on the empty elevator with my hands on my hips.
“Not now, Monica,” Cameron says, reaching past me to hit the button to open the doors.
I twist just enough to put my hand on his even as I look him in the eye. “Now,” I insist.
The doors close behind us.
“Serena is filing for divorce.”
I’m shocked and it shows.
He drops his head and wipes his eyes with his fingers. “She grilled me about you and me being in the elevator and what exactly is going on between us. It was ugly and I really don’t want to talk about it right now, Monica.”
“You told her you loved me?” I ask him in this soft and husky voice that doesn’t even sound like me.
He shifted his eyes away from mine and then shifted them back. “Yes.”
I hit the button to stop the elevator and step forward to press my hands against his face and my body against the length of his.
“What are you doing, Monica?” he asks in this voice that sounds tired and a little aggravated.
“Finishing what we started in this same elevator Friday.”
“No. I’m still married and if this gets out I can lose my job and you will get the reputation for being willing to sleep your way to the—”
I press my lips against his as my heart pounds and the butterflies in my stomach flutter away. “I love you, Cameron,” I whisper to him in between soft kisses to his delicious mouth. I feel his heart beating just as crazy as mine and I know that he can’t resist me. Us. This.
His hands grab my waist and I feel his briefcase against my ass as he jerks me closer while his tongue slowly enters my mouth to touch down on my own. We both moan deeply and release a shaky breath as our mouths part slightly. I look up into his eyes and he looks down into mine as we just stand there breathing in each other’s essence. I have never felt such a connection with a man before. Oh, Cameron has me. He has me to do with as he pleases.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone but I love you. I love you so much,” he whispers against my mouth.
I feel such a rush of energy and emotions and edification.
This thing between Cameron and me is bigger than both of us.
In heated seconds our hands are unbuttoning, unzipping, pulling, and tugging until my black lace thongs are on the floor and my skirt is up above my waist. His boxers and trousers are down around his ankles.
We kiss each other deeply as he turns me and presses my back against the wall. I spread my knees wide as he guides my pussy down onto every thick and delicious inch of his dick. I break the kiss and gasp for air and control as I feel complete with him buried deep inside of me.
“Damn,” he swears as he presses his mouth to my neck.
We shiver together and hold each other tight as hell as he finally begins to shift his hips, pushing his dick in and out of me like we were the only people on our own damn planet. It feels like we are floating in air. Raw energy courses over our bodies and our souls shiver from the passion, the fire, the love that we share.
I arch my back and clutch him so tightly as my body spasms with each release of my cum. “Yes, Cameron. Oh God, yes,” I cry out as tears fill my eyes. He is making love to my body and my soul. He touches spots inside of me that no man has ever stroked—intimate parts of me that is beyond sex. He fulfills me. He completes me.
Sweet Jesus.
The tears course down my cheeks freely and as I feel his body stiffen and then shiver as his dick literally swells with each shot of delicious cum against my walls. And with each spasm against my ridged walls I cry out with no shame in my game. Our hearts both pound wild as hell.
I bring my hands up to caress his cheeks as he kisses my lips. Our eyes lock and I feel as if our souls have kissed too.
This connection between us is real. For the first time ever I know what making love is really all about.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dom
Me and Kimani are sittin’ in the living room watching videos as I write in my journal when Alizé strolls her ass up in the apartment lookin’ like she ’bout ready to do the fuckin’ runnin’ man or some shit.
Kimani looks over her shoulder from her spot on the floor. “
Hi, Auntie Ze,” she calls out before turnin’ back to the television.
“Hi, KiKi.” Alizé drops down onto the sofa already out of her intern clothes and dressed in an off-the-shoulder pink and gold Baby Phat shirt and a jean skirt. I used to think she wasn’t no better than Moët with her split personality bullshit. She could be Monica the preppy student or Alizé the ghetto-fab chick whenever she got ready. Now I realize the suits, briefcase, and shit is just her image to get ahead. The real Ze is sittin’ right in front of me poppin’ gum and swingin’ her crossed leg.
My eyes dart down to the long and pale scar on her thigh. I still feel like that pain Rah inflicted on her was all my fault. Sometimes I hate the person I used to be.
“Where’s everybody?” she asks as she sends off a round of gum poppin’ that sounds like fireworks on the fuckin’ Fourth of July.
“Cristal is somewhere in the building lookin’ for Mohammed and Mo said she’s gonna be late gettin’ off work.”
I don’t miss the look of regret all up on her face. I don’t think it’s ever been just me and her since that day at the courthouse. I know she has some good news she wants to share but I’m not feelin’ her hurtin’ my damn feelings ’cause she don’t trust my ass no more.
“My dad—, my father—, Willie and I are talkin’ a lot lately. He wants me to meet the rest of his family,” I tell her, my attempt to bridge this fucked up gap between us.
Alizé kicks off her gold sandals and looks over at me before she nods in understandin’. “I hope everything is good for you, Dom. You deserve some good times in your life.”
That makes my ass smile on the inside. “So do you.”
She tilts her head to the side like a goddamn owl and her eyes squint at me before she licks her lips and says, “Cameron was sent to Japan at the last minute and he wants us to hold off until he gets back. He loves me and all that jazz but I am so afraid that him and his wife will get back together or he won’t let us be together if I take the summer internship there. He says he’ll call but I have no idea where all of this is going. So I guess we’re together . . . but we’re not.”
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