He rises to his feet and straightens his creases before he turns and offers his hand to my mother. “It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Winters. Maybe I can refer you to one of my colleagues for further—”
“Thanks but no thanks, Doc,” I tell him as I grab his elbow and steer his ass right towards the door.
As soon as we step onto the front porch I whirl on him like the Tasmanian Devil. “What the fuck are you doing at my house?” I spit at him.
He removes his glasses and calmly as hell begins to clean them with a handkerchief as he leans against the railing. “Why aren’t you answering my calls, Monica?”
“Because you and I are over.”
He pauses in cleaning his glasses to look over at me. “No,” he says simply.
I throw my hands on my damn hips and look at him like he has three heads coming out his ass. “You better get the hell out of my face, Dr. Locke.”
He pushes off the railing and stands in my face to peer down at me. “Don’t do this, Monica. Don’t do this to me.”
I step back from him. “Dr. Locke, it’s over,” I stress to him. “The therapy session. The sex. Everything. All of it. It’s over.”
He grabs my wrist. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”
I snatch my hand away and slap the shit out of him. It echoes into the night. He smiles and licks his lips as he peers into my eyes. “You know I love when you smack me. Do it again.”
I shove him away from me and turn to dash into the house. I stand by the living room window peeking out the side of the curtain until he finally jogs down the porch and climbs into his ride to drive off.
I’m not gone lie. That shit that just went down has me shaky as hell.
“Is he gone?”
I turn and give my moms a smile. “Yes. Thank God.”
“He’s one nice-looking man,” she says, as she smiles and fans herself. “Well, you want me to leave my little thug alone. How about hooking your mama up with Hunter?”
I walk past her shaking my head. “Jump from the frying pan straight into the fire.”
I feel her hand on my arm and I stop and turn to face her. “What’s wrong with him?” she asks.
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask sarcastically, even though I know I’m taking my anger for him out on my mother. I check myself and count to ten. “He’s freaking me out and that’s why I stopped going to him. He had no right to come here and if he comes back here don’t let him in. I’m serious, Ma.”
Maybe I should have walked in the truth and said: “Nothing except I’ve been screwing him and now he’s acting like a mini-stalker because I told him it was over.”
I release a heavy breath that is filled with all my drama. I can tell from the look on my mother’s face that she knows there is more to the story but she doesn’t want to ask. Still, I’m not ready to talk about it all. Dom. Cameron. Dr. Stalker. None of it.
But when she opens her arms and gives me that Mama smile like only she can I am more than happy to step into her embrace. I swear that I’m grown and independent and all that good shit, but it feels so good to just be in my mother’s arms again.
Why did I ever want to grow up?
Chapter Forty-Three
Dom
“This Dom. Get at me.”
Beep.
“How in the hell you gone call and give me the name and address to your drug counselor? Your ass the one been hooked on fuckin’ dope. And hell no I don’t want to meet with him. But what you can do is drop the bullshit and bring my grandbaby to see me. You’re wrong, Dom, and you know it.”
Beep.
“Hey baby, I missed you at work. Kimani is being real good. You know I had to check up on her. Uhm, I hope you feel better. You must be sleeping. You better not be laid up with another dude about nine deep up in my pussy. Nah, I’m just playing. Anyway if you want I’ll bring Kiki home and we can all go out tonight. Call me when you get up.”
Beep.
“You know grandparents’ have rights too. I keep threatening to sue your shot-out ass and I will too.”
Beep.
“Keesha, I’m so happy you and Kimani are coming over for the cookout tomorrow. Everyone can’t wait to meet you and I can’t wait to spend some more time with you. Call me.”
Beep . . . beep . . . beep.
I drop my cell phone onto the bed as I snuggle down deeper. I just want to spend some time by my damn lonesome because tomorrow my life won’t ever be the same again. New people. New places. New things. I can’t explain it but I just wanted this day to be about me. Fuck it.
Sure we talk on the phone a little but goin’ over to his damn house is different.
What if I don’t like Willie?
What if his family—my family—don’t like me?
He has a wife and kids and they might see me as nothin’ but trouble. A fuckin’ intrusion. Some bastard kid from the projects that’s a reminder of a time they wish never fuckin’ happened.
I ain’t gone lie. My ass is nervous as hell.
A part of me thinks I need to get myself together before I bring more people and possibly more damn drama into my life.
My eyes shift over to my laptop sittin’ on the edge of the dresser. Corey brought it for me so that I can write my story, a story, any story. But the words won’t come. I don’t know a motherfuckin’ thing about where to start a book. So now I just type my journal entries on the computer instead of write them by hand.
Corey asks me damn near everyday how the book is comin’ and I straight lie to him and say everythin’ is straight. Humph, ’bout as straight as Michael Jackson’s ass.
My eyes shift over to the stack of books on the floor by my bed. Why the fuck do I think that can be me with my name across the cover of some damn book? Then again, why the fuck am I scared it can’t be? I read a lot these days and I know what I like and what I don’t fuckin’ like. And maybe an online creative writin’ class might teach me all the shit I need to know.
I roll off the bed and walk over to snatch up my computer. I am just about to hop my ass on the internet to check out some creative writin’ courses when my cell phone rings again. I turn and snatch it up. It’s Diane again.
I send her ass right to voice mail.
As soon as I drop the phone it sounds off letting me know I have a text message. I scoop the phone up from the bed again. It’s from Corey.
Did you pick Kimani up from school?
She’s not here.
Say what, say fuckin’ who?
My heart is beatin’ like a motherfucker as I dial the daycare center. “This is Keesha. Where the fuck is my daughter?” I shoot at they ass as soon as someone picks up the damn line. I don’t give a goddamn if they fire my ass and I have to go get my black ass on the pole in another strip club, I want some answers with a quickness.
“She was signed out a few minutes ago by your mother.”
See, this some real bullshit.
“How the fuck y’all gone let my mother sign her out—”
“You don’t have to cuss and carry on, Keesha. Her name is on the list of people allowed to pick her up. The list you signed.”
I hang up right in her face. The phone vibrates to let me know I have a voice mail message. Diane’s no-good ass called me right before Corey’s text message so she probably left a message. My ass is shakin’ and pacin’, pacin’ and fuckin’ shakin’ while I dial my voice mail.
“Hi Dom. Since you won’t let me see my grandbaby I decided to scoop her right on up for a grandma-granddaughter afternoon. And she is just as happy to see me . . . whether you hate it or love it.”
There’s a rustlin’ noise on the phone.
“Mama, Diane picked me up from school.”
My daughter is excited as hell and don’t have a clue that I really want to bury my foot in Diane’s ass. “Okay, KiKi, let me talk to Grandma.”
“Who?” she asks, soundin’ like a damn owl.
“Diane.”
The line rustles again
.
“I don’t have much else to say ’cept I’ll have my grandchild home soon.”
“Diane!” I yell into the phone as I grab my purse and my keys.
“I’m comin’ to get my daughter.”
Diane laughs. “Coming where, smart ass? I ain’t home.”
It hits me big time that this is some real sad shit that my own damn mama done kidnap my fuckin’ child. Why the fuck God send me to this bitch?
“You know what, Diane. I’m so sick of this shit.” I’m tired of the fight and I hear it in my voice. “I asked you to come to therapy if you really wanted to see me and Kimani and instead you go snatch my child from school without my permission. Man, what the fuck, Diane? Damn.”
“Who are you to put fuckin’ stipulations on me to see my grandbaby?” she snaps.
I stop at the door and drop my keys and purse to the floor as I turn and press my back to the wall by the door. I can’t do shit but slide down to the floor. I sigh and it filled the fuck up with all my sadness and regret. “Your daughter. I’m your daughter, Ma. I’m your fuckin’ child.”
I close my cell phone and fling that son-of-a-bitch across the room to crash against the wall.
Chapter Forty-Four
Moët
“Hold me, Taquan. Touch me.”
I press his hands against one of my breasts as I glide the vibrator up and down my clit. The feel of his body next to me while I masturbate excites me like crazy. And I know he loves for me to watch him and just put my hand on his nipples or his buttocks as he jacks his dick like it’s going out of style.
This is our intimacy. Our thing. That sexy and irresistible gray area between fornication and abstinence.
The more we do it, the more it feels wrong. Not unpleasant, just wrong as hell.
I feel his tongue on my nipples wetly and my eyes shoot open in surprise. This is a first. And Lord, oh Lord . . . it feels sooooo good.
“Taquan,” I moan as I take the next step and reach down between us to massage the hard and long length of him.
I feel his jaw clench and the pressure of his mouth around my nipple deepens causing my clit to swell up so much that it feels numb. I shiver as his dick throbs in my hand. I tighten my grip and jack him until I feel wetness on his tip.
This is a zone we have never played in before. But we should have known this was coming. Our bodies are closer to each other every time we do this dance. We are testing the limits more and more and it makes me want him more and more. The buzzing of the vibrator is shifting further away as the real deal rubs against my leg like a snake.
I bite my lip as he shifts his nude body between my open legs. Both of his strong hands grab my breasts and pushes them up high so that he can suck both nipples hotly. I raise my leg to massage my thigh against his hard buttocks as my hands squeeze his broad shoulders.
“Yes, Taquan, suck my titties. Suck my damn titties,” I holler out hoarsely as I shift my hands up to press his head closer to my chest.
His tongue flickers against my nipples. His dick presses against my thigh as he grinds his hips in a circular motion. My heart beats like crazy. My pussy is wet and throbbing. Aching and yearning.
Everything is going out the window in this gray zone we’ve made. I’m cussing. I’m thinking of sinning. I want to be fucked for real and if we don’t stop this I will not take no for an answer.
“Taquan, we can’t—”
He lifts up. “Turn over,” he orders me in this husky voice.
Even as I try to fight it, I roll right over until my aching breasts are pressed into his bed. One of his hands squeezes between me and the bed to press against my pus—. My hot spot. I gasp as he presses the length of his . . . hardness straight up the crack in my buttocks to cup him snugly. The heat of his body is pressing me down into the bed as he plants kisses on my shoulders, grinds his . . . hardness against my . . . buttocks, and uses strong fingers to vibrate my . . . button. I squeeze my eyes shut and damn near bite the stuffing out the pillow as he continues to rock his hips, gliding his . . . his . . . Oh God . . . his dick, okay, he is gliding his nice, long, hard dick up and down between my ass cheeks cupping him like a hot dog bun.
“Damn that pussy wet,” he whispers against my neck as he slips a finger inside me.
His language shocks and excites me all at once.
I start working my hips until I find his rhythm and each circle brings his fingers deeper against my clit until I am trembling from deep inside my pussy walls. He squeezes his other hand beneath me to tease my hard nipples . . . and I am lost. There is no turning back now. There is nothing for me to do but ride the delicious waves.
“I’m cummmmmin’,” I moan into the pillow as my pussy walls spasm and something like fireworks seems to explode inside me until I am just floating like I’m falling through air.
“Me too, baby, me too. Get this nut,” he moans in my ears as his body stiffens just before I feel his dick jerk between my ass as his cum fills that small gap between his stomach and the deep curve at the top of my ass.
“Hmmm,” I moan in pleasure as I bring my hand up to suck my fingers.
He continues to play in my pussy and work his hips until the last of his nut squirts from his dick onto my wet ass. “Shit,” Taquan swears before his body relaxes on me.
My eyes shoot open at his language and I close my eyes as remorse fills me. “God forgive me,” I pray silently. “I have corrupted this man.”
I have no right being here but something calls me to this place. I was laying in bed beside Taquan and I felt conflicted about where I led our relationship. The only thing that eased my mind was the thought of coming here.
So here I am.
I drop Taquan’s key (which I “borrowed” while he slept) in my pocket as I walk into the small inner church. All the lights are off except for the one above the altar. Looking at it makes me want to sing
“Amen.”
I stand behind the back pew and I feel such reverence as I remember the day that the Lord finally forgave me—or taught me to forgive myself—for all my sins. Right here in this same sanctuary.
I honestly never wanted to be that person again. And no I haven’t had abortions and I haven’t disobeyed my parents. I haven’t cut my ties with the Lord.
I have lied.
I am seducing a man to give up the very virginity he covets because he loves the Lord.
I have been manipulative.
I am sick of myself . . . again.
There is no choir tonight to sing me to my uplifting but I feel something more powerful, and that is His presence. He is here for me. He has never left me. And although I know one of my sins was for a greater good, I also know that they were detours on this path that I must take.
I’m not saved, but I was trying and now I have even stopped doing that.
“Forgive me, Lord,” I whisper as I bring my hands up to steeple beneath my chin as I walk slowly to the altar.
“I should have put my faith in You that everything would be just the way You have planned for me. But I let fear and lack of faith lead me to do things I know were wrong, because I was afraid of losing her. I was afraid that he would take my baby from me. Oh, Lord, forgive me,” I whisper with conviction as tears fill my eyes and tighten my throat.
“I’ve been fighting this feeling. I’ve been telling myself it’s not time. But I know that my life will be nothing without You. I am nothing without You.”
I fall to my knees at the praying bench as the tears blur my vision. “I thank You for sending Taquan to me and I beg You to forgive me for tempting him, Lord. For trying to steer him away from You. I don’t know why I keep dancing with the devil but I beg You to please keep me with You. Don’t let the devil win. Help me fight him. Help me do right. Help me be a better person. Embrace me, Lord, as I embrace You. Don’t let me go. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me. Please.”
I drop my head to the bench and give in to the tears and the emotions that surround me as I relinquish the fight
and surrender gracefully to His will.
Chapter Forty-Five
Cristal
You never think about your man working where you work or where you live . . . until he becomes your ex-boyfriend. I walk into the lobby of The Top and my eyes fall right on Mohammed. It has been a week since I saw him and his new love chilling at The Caribbean. Love, regret, anger, and jealousy have me nauseous as I tilt my chin up.
I know I look good in my turquoise strapless silk dress and white platform peep-toe shoes. I strut with my best overtly sexy walk. I just want him to know that Evette could not compete on her best damn day.
So we do not speak. We pretend like we never shared time in each other’s lives. He is mad at me and I am pissed at him about Evette but we really shared an amazing connection. Some other level shit that people dream about it. Now we act like we do not even know each other.
I step onto the elevator and come face to face with Winthrop Blanchard III, sexy white man and my ex (sorta) making out with a tall, curly-haired look-alike of Eddie Murphy’s ex-wife. They must have rode the elevator up from the underground parking garage.
I give them both a polite smile and turn to roll my eyes as the elevator doors close. I dated him very briefly. He was only good to me for eating pussy and buying me nice pieces of jewelry that I cashed in to help pay my bills. One racial slur from his ass and I tossed him (but not the gifts) out the door.
“Hello, Danielle.”
I do not miss the way he stresses my name. I look over my shoulder briefly at them and frown at the way her blue-green eyes are checking me out from head to toe. I swallow back my greetings. Does this six-foot freckled-face, blue-eyed black woman think I want her man? I just turn away from them both and fix my eyes on the silver elevator door.
“This is my new girlfriend, Kai,” Winthrop says with satisfaction in his voice.
I look over my shoulder and lock eyes with Winthrop. “Best of both worlds, huh?” I ask, alluding to her obvious mixed heritage.
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