“What about the wedding?” he asked, flagging down a hostess for some numbing juice. Shit was about to get really personal in nanoseconds. “If it’s the same story, I’ve heard it before.”
“Excuse me?” Gloria said.
“Don’t talk to Auntie like that, D.”
He looked over at Aja. “Aja, stop trying to son me. That’s the second time. Stop that sh—”
“Don’t say it, Jamie,” Aunt Gloria scolded.
“My bad,” Jamie said, loosening his glare on Aja. “So, let me ask it this way. Whose idea was this?”
“Last-ditch efforts, sweetheart.”
“Auntie . . . you do know my wedding is in two weeks, right? What’s with all the objections?”
“The objection is that you didn’t wait long enough, D,” Aja stated.
“I agree, baby,” Gloria cosigned. “You can date this girl without making her your wife. I’m not all the way sold on her yet, baby. We’ve been around her a few times for a few dinners and things. What do we know about her? Where is her family? Where is she from? Why so soon?”
Jamie sighed. He really didn’t feel like dealing with it. Truthfully, the way that Kassidi had been riding his nerves, he wasn’t sure either. But, it sure as hell wasn’t something he wanted to air out, until he’d had time to evaluate things on his own.
“Yeah, brother. We barely know her. Why are y’all getting married so quickly? It’s just been a y—”
Aja stopped talking when the waitress suddenly appeared and took Jamie’s scotch on the rocks order. When they were alone again, the conversation resumed.
“Aja, how many scrubs have you gone through . . . in this same year and I let you be? How many?”
“This ain’t about me. And I’m not off tryin’ to marry none of these dudes, either. I’m just having fun.”
“Oh, ‘fun’ . . . is that what it’s called now?”
“Jamie . . .” Aunt Gloria snapped sharply. “You know this is much more serious than that. You know that. This girl is about to become your wife. She’s about to bear the family name. And we know nothing about her or where she comes from. What is the rush? Is she preg—”
“Come on, now. No, she’s not pregnant.” He dry-washed his face in frustration and then looked around for his drink, that wasn’t coming fast enough.
“Well, what is it?” Aja pressed. “And are we gonna at least meet her family before y’all walk down the aisle?” She paused. “That don’t even sound right . . . that we’re meeting her family when the wedding happens. That’s crazy. So, how comfortable are we supposed to feel when she gives birth to my niece or my nephew, later on down the line, and the baby is around people that we don’t even know. How’s that gonna even work? How do we even know . . . man, ugh! I hate that you don’t get it. This is bigger than just you.”
“Why are y’all pulling this now?”
“Not like we haven’t been trying to talk sense into you. Why do you think we haven’t been involved in any parts of the wedding?”
“Well, because Kassidi hasn’t asked y’all to be.”
“And you’re okay with her excluding your family?” Gloria challenged. “She’s changing the way you are with us, Jamie.”
Jamie reached across the table to place his hand over his aunt’s. “That will never happen. She’s as disposable as any other woman that comes in and even attempts it. If a woman ever tries that shit, she’s gone immediately—even if there’s already paperwork—gone.”
He looked back and forth between the two women interrogating him, reassurance present in his eyes. As Jamie studied their faces, he thought about how they looked more like big sister/little sister than anything. Aja’s characteristics and looks came from Gloria’s and their deceased father’s side of the family. The dark-brown skin, brown eyes, and dimples. Where Jamie was made up of both sides: he inherited his complexion from his father’s side, but the funny-colored eyes and wavy hair came by way of his maternal side.
“You promise?” Aja asked her brother.
“Without a doubt.”
Aja’s smile was as big as Jamie had ever seen it. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
“Awww, that makes my heart warm,” Gloria gushed. “Y’all are all each other has, so it does my heart good that the bond is everlasting.”
“Always . . .” Jamie declared.
“Okay, my dear nephew. Since we got that out of the way, what’s with all these arguments you guys are having?” Gloria queried.
Here we go. Jamie sighed inwardly. He honestly thought they were done and that they could now enjoy each other’s company and get to ordering some good food.
“The petty arguments . . .” Aja added. “Hella petty.”
“Aja . . .”
“I know, Auntie. Sorry.”
Jamie’s drink finally arrived. He wanted to ask the waitress if she had to take her ass all the way to Scotland for the damn drink!
As soon as it was on the table, it was pretty much gone. It took all of three and a half seconds for him to down it and welcome the burn left in its wake. As much as Jamie loved his family, he wasn’t in the mood for the third degree. He also wasn’t in the mood to defend anything. He’d had a crazy-ass morning, and the day got even crazier when he got to work and found out that the firm had lost a major account to their competitor. He was hoping to meet up with Aja and have some sister/brother time. Not the shit he had pulled up to.
Jamie leaned forward, clasping his hands together on top of the table. “Listen, I’m done talking about this. Everybody argues, okay? She got jitters, I got jitters. Everything is heightened right now. She’s going to Vegas for her girls’ thing this weekend and I’ll be doing my guy thing with my boys. We get some time apart.” Jamie pulled his hands from the table and leaned back into his chair. “Time apart is a good thing for us right now. But do me a favor, please,” he implored seeking responses from both.
“What’s that?” Gloria asked.
“Trust me to be the grown man that I am. I make sound decisions. I do that for a living. And best believe I can do them in my everyday life. Now, let’s order us some food and leave all that other stuff behind. Whatever will be, will be.”
The women looked at each other and then back at Jamie. In unison, they repeated what he had said: “Whatever will be, will be.”
-7-
MARCO
Mandarin Oriental Hotel, Las Vegas
I sat against the headboard watching from the bed as the girl signed the NDA forms I’d given her when she walked in the front door of my suite. Not that anything outside of a little weed, Tequila and fucking was going to happen. I just took my privacy seriously and guarded it with my life. My reputation meant everything to me. I didn’t set out to be a celebrity, but somehow, it had happened. Now, people knew me all over Vegas and even beyond.
‘Dirty dancing’, which is what I called it, got me a bit of notoriety—mainly with the women. Occasionally, some bold fuckin’ dude would try to get too close, but they soon found out that I was all-man. I didn’t go around just putting my hands-on people out of the blue, but a few times I had to take it there. Gay dudes could be worse than the thirstiest woman, when they saw something they liked.
It wasn’t lost on me that I was a lot of people’s cup of tea, so I don’t really take offense when they admire. Just don’t get too close for my comfort. Because fuck that! No goddamn body, with body parts like mine could do a motherfucking thing for me. Not in this life, my previous life, or the goddamn life after this one.
It was pussy for me all day long. I loved the look of it, the smell of it, the feel of it. I even loved the taste of it, but that hadn’t happened since my teenage years. And it wouldn’t be happening until I found the woman with everything I was looking for. Unless she was an AnnaLynne McCord, Mishael Morgan, or Eva Mendez, I knew that would take a lot of time; probably, even years. So, in the meantime, I fucked at leisure—and leisure came often. Because of th
at, and because of my link to the entertainment industry, my attorney urged me to be extra careful. At every turn.
That was why the chick, currently in my hotel room, was signing her life away. It shouldn’t have taken her but a few minutes. Seconds even. But she was trying to put on a show for me. A show I wasn’t interested in seeing, and little did she know that if she continued taking her time, she’d be shown the fucking door. She tried her best to lean over the desk as seductively as possible while she read the terms of the agreement. Her white dress nudged up her thigh and stopped right at the edge of her small ass-cheek. She was petite up and down, but the small curvature to her hips let me know that she had what it took—to take what I had. I was just hoping that she knew what she was in for.
She turned around to look back at me. “Do I just sign on this bottom line?”
“Yep. I take it you read that shit thoroughly, with as long as it took you.”
“I did.”
“Cool. Because it’s not just about, “What happens in Vegas. It’s what happens in this—”
“I understand,” she replied softly, scribbling her signature on the paper. After she was done, she placed the pen on top of the paper and turned to me. Her hands moved down to her sides where she grabbed the hem of her dress and rolled the clingy material up and off her body. She didn’t have so much as a fuckin’ thong underneath. “I’d sign my entire life away just to be here with you.”
I choked out some of the smoke from my blunt. “What’d you say?” I responded, spooked as shit for her to say something like that.
“I’m kidding, silly!”
“You better be. I don’t do stalkers, and shit.”
“Okay, okay,” she whined. “Geez. I got it! She began giggling, while caressing her dark pink nipples. “I just had to see the look on your face.” She leaned against the desk behind her and grinned. “I’m sure girls stalk you and shit like that, so I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not them. I’m just here for a good time.”
I scanned her frame up and down. She was cute as fuck in the face. Her pussy was bare and that small gap between her thighs told me that she could handle dick. And that had better be the case because I had no plans on showing her mercy.
I threw the sheet off of me and grabbed my dick into my hand, stroking it. “Come here,” I told her.
Her eyes widened, and a small parting formed between her lips. “Damn . . .” she sighed, her hands falling away from her breasts. “I mean, shit.”
She stood in place for a few more moments, staring at the bulge between my thighs.
“You comin’ or not?” I asked her.
“Uhh, of course. I was just . . .” She stepped away from the stretchy white material that had fallen at her feet. “I was just admiring.”
“The clock is tickin’ . . .”
And it was ticking for real. My dick was already at attention, and I had been undressed for a while. But I had to wait it out because she wasn’t gonna so much as put my cock in her mouth—without a John Hancock. I took a final drag of my blunt and then pinched the tip to put out the fire and sat it next to me on the nightstand.
The moment she made it onto the bed, she wrapped her hands around my rod, and began her massage from the tip and down the shaft. She took the long route too, taking her time. Her hands were soft and small, and she knew how to work with them. When the trust settled in and I was confident that she knew what she was doing, I leaned my head into the leather and closed my eyes. Figured I’d let her drive for a while. After a long performance, this was what I needed to wind the fuck down.
“Damn . . .” she whispered. “This is by far one of the prettiest cocks I’ve seen . . . like, ever.”
It didn’t take long for precum to seep its way through my tip. She was right there with her mouth to make it disappear. The friction from her tongue caused me to grunt loud as fuck. The inside of her mouth was wet and warm as hell. She locked her mouth on me and trapped me inside, her tongue dragging everywhere her eagerness took it.
I clutched her hair between my fingers for a tighter pull, helping to feed her the dick. Watching her head bob, up and down, gave me a rush. I loved getting head, and she served it up nicely. However, fucking was what I wanted to do. With my free hand, I opened the nightstand drawer and grabbed one of the condoms inside, then ripped it open with my teeth. I reached down, grabbed her shoulder and squeezed.
“Psst. Come up here.”
Seconds later, she released me and looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, just come here,” I told her. She watched me quizzically as I strapped up. “I need you face down, ass up.”
She smiled, then obliged, without protest. I adjusted her hips in front of me and opened her up. I felt her wetness when I ran my hand between her thighs. She was ready. I palmed my dick and teased at her entrance. She wriggled her weight beneath me, so I switched it up and pulled back slightly. “Relax,” I urged her giving her a light tap on the ass.
“I’m . . . relaxed.”
I proceeded to feed her inches at a time to get her acclimated. But after a few slow, sympathetic strokes, I sped it up. Fast and hard was the only way I liked to give it. Kept things detached and simple.
When my right palm came crashing down against her ass, “Ohhh! Yeah!” she shrieked loudly, tightening her pussy walls around my dick.
The vibration of her ass against my thighs, summoned my nut. But I wasn’t done with her, so damn sure not ready to bust one. I quickly pulled out and instructed her to turn onto her back.
After I made sure my condom was still in place, I threw her legs over my shoulders and drove into her. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, moaning loudly as she thrust her hips forward. She gave it to me just as hard as I gave it to her. She made it clear that she was used to getting fucked. That was the best pussy to get ahold of. No babysitting, no supervising, just full throttle—no brakes.
“Ohhh fuck!” Her eyes were shut tight, as she expressed herself, but her mouth was open wide. “Oooh fuuuck! Fuuuckk! I’m c-c-cuu-min’! Ohhh!”
At the height of her peak, I grabbed the base of her hips and yanked her even closer. I locked on her thighs to anchor her in place, then moved deeper inside her. It was time for me to reach my own conclusion.
Better to get it over with at the same time so I could send her on her way.
“Ohh, my goodness,” she purred loudly, a short time later when it was all said and done. “That was everything I thought it would be . . . and then some.”
I had just walked back into the bedroom after removing the condom and flushing it down the toilet.
“Glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart.”
“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” she asked propping up on one elbow, getting a little bit too comfortable for my taste.
“Dance like that . . . where?”
She looked at me in confusion. Hell, I was confused too. I didn’t know if she meant in the bed or out of the fucking bed.
“Oh, you nasty boy, you. I meant on stage. I’m just asking because I’ve never seen dancing like that. I couldn’t take my eyes off of—”
“Here you go,” I said cutting off her attempt at an intimate conversation. “I got an early morning,” I remarked, tossing her dress onto the edge of the bed.
She shot me a look of disbelief, her blue eyes narrowing. I saw both anger and surprise in her glare.
“I signed a damn Non-disclosure Agreement for that?! No conversation? No follow-up? No encore?” She got up off the bed and proceeded to angrily snatch her dress from the bed and pull it over her head. “Guys are all the same—pieces of shit,” she hissed, tussling with her long hair to force it back to a presentable state, before taking the walk of shame. “I guess even a little bit of conversation is too much to ask. You just fucked me and now you’re putting me out like I’m a piece of nothing.”
“I never promised you conversation.” I walked to the door to open it for her. “And you shouldn’t have as
sumed that you’d be here long enough to have one.”
She gave me the dirtiest look before I closed the door on her, but I didn’t give a fuck about that. She got what she came for; nothing but dick was ever on the menu. She came to the wrong place for the star treatment. It was funny to me how they always expected so much after sex, but it took so little to get them in bed. Shit was crazy as fuck. If that’s what the fuck they wanted, then wouldn’t it make sense to not lead with sex?!
I went back in the bedroom and stripped the sheets from the bed and tossed them onto the floor. Since I had a few hours left before having to get up, I called housekeeping and instructed them to come and change the linen while I took my shower.
They did just that and when I came out squeaky clean, I hopped between the crisp sheets and fell asleep with nothing but silence in the room.
-8-
KASSIDI
There was visible strain between Jamie and me. It had been a long week. Since the last argument, we had just kind of co-existed. Acted like it never happened. It was a thing where we were both trying to keep the peace, without addressing why we had to even do that in the first place. To let Yolanda tell it, I didn’t really want to get married and that’s why we were having disagreements so often. I didn’t buy into that. What I did buy into was that Jamie was dismissive of things that affected me. Felt that I was overreacting on just about anything that I expressed concern for. He just couldn’t grasp that all he really needed to say was something to the effect of, “If that’s how it made you feel, then I’m sorry.” But no. That wasn’t part of his forte—ever. Historically, it would always come down to the pretty little band-aid of choice—sex.
The Graffiti Effect Page 4