Hot Boyz

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Hot Boyz Page 14

by Marissa Monteilh


  He ran his fingers though his dreads, scratching his scalp to chase an itch. “I’m so ready to move on, Sis, that I need Sequoia’s phone number.”

  She started to take a bite and then stopped. “Sequoia?”

  “Yes, Sequoia.”

  “You want to call her and tell her you’re interested after all these years?”

  After taking a sip, Torino replied sounding sarcastic. “That’s what I’d do with the number.”

  “To like, ask her out?” Mercedes asked.

  “Exactly. Very good.”

  Mercedes blew a long breath between her lips. She put the donut down. “I’m just shocked. You two have been at each other’s throats ever since I met her.”

  “But she’s all grown up now.”

  “Yes, but I thought you two got on each other’s nerves nowadays.”

  “She’s just been fighting the feeling.”

  “I was wondering why she always showed up at the club. I tease her about that.”

  “I kind of like the fact that she’s always treated me like I had the plague. It’s been a challenge. But last night, something was different,” he admitted.

  “Different how?”

  “She was more… more responsive.”

  Mercedes chuckled. “Responsive to what?”

  “To my glances, my smiles, my energy.”

  “Okay,” Mercedes remarked like he might need to think twice.

  “I mean it. Even after I sent her a drink and the cock-blocker intercepted my pass.”

  “That’s funny. So you were trying to be shady, huh?”

  Torino kind of grinned. “No, just sending an old friend a drink.” He ate the last piece of the donut.

  “Yeah, right. I see now. Well, I’ll tell you what. How about if I have her call you?” Mercedes offered.

  Torino looked betrayed, still chewing. “You don’t trust me with her number? You don’t think she’d want me to have it?”

  “I have a feeling she’ll be cool with it.”

  “So, you’re being truer to your buddy than to family, huh?”

  Mercedes replied. “Torino, that’s not it. Look, no matter what the path is to get you two to talk, I think it will happen. She’s ripe right now anyway.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning if you treat her right, like a lady, and play your cards right, you just might end up getting at least a date out of her.”

  Torino remarked, “I hope so because she seems different. These women out here are so quick to just hand over everything they’ve got. I guess there’s a shortage of men, huh?”

  “That’s what I hear. I’m glad I’ve got mine,” she said, finally taking a bite herself.

  “Mason is the devoted one. Can’t say that I blame him,” Torino said, giving Mercedes the once-over.

  Mercedes stood up, “Here, boy, take your coffee and go get some sleep. I’m about to take Star clothes shopping.”

  He stood up with his mug in hand. “And don’t forget what your dear brother-in-law asked you.”

  “I won’t. I’ll make that call today. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Cedes. Isn’t that what Mason calls you?” he asked, headed for the kitchen door.

  She replied, “Yes. Tito.”

  “Damn, what’s up with that? Okay, Mercedes. Have fun with Star.”

  “Thanks, Torino.”

  That Monday night, Mercedes met Sequoia at the popular, always crowded, two-story gym called Spectrum. Sequoia was serious about her workout even though the gym was known for men who were always on the make. Sequoia and Mercedes dressed down and dumpy just to remain unnoticed. They were not in the mood.

  Mercedes looked around at the facility while working up a tiny sweat. She did not sweat easily though, so she must have been feeling it. “Thanks for having me as your guest. I really do need to join.”

  “Girl, you have more than enough exercise machines in your own home.”

  “Oh, I never go in that room. All of that stuff is in Mason’s study that he rarely even uses. Plus I need to be motivated by having other folks around me. It’s just the fitness-type energy you get from a gym.”

  Sequoia spoke from a treadmill beside her buddy. “Mercedes, you do not need to lose weight anyway. You have it going on in all the right places.”

  “I need to at least get in some cardio for a few minutes. I can’t even walk up the stairs at home without breathing heavy. I can’t have a man who’s all athletic and who can run for miles, and my ass can’t even walk up a hill.”

  “I’m grateful for the company, so I’m just jazzed that you came.” Sequoia wiped her forehead with a towel. “By the way, thanks for giving me Torino’s number last night. He’s usually clowning and being tacky with his player remarks. I can’t believe that man wants to try to put a real move on me after all this time.”

  Mercedes pushed the electronic control to slow down the pace. “I can.”

  “He needs to put them on someone. I think Colette has straight lost her damn mind. He can do a whole lot better than that bug-a-boo.”

  “Like you?”

  Sequoia skipped over her question. “Anyway, I will say one thing. These brothers out here are a trip. You need to count your blessings, sitting up in Ladera with a famous husband. Mercedes, you are a damn millionaire.”

  “Oh, and I suppose that’s all that’s important, huh?”

  “It helps. Don’t give me that ‘money is nothing without someone you love to share it with’ crap. You have one of the finest and richest black men in the world to share it with.”

  “Sequoia, I really don’t have much to complain about other than wanting more of Mason’s time.”

  “And we all know you trust him,” Sequoia remarked like it was all too familiar.

  “You know that’s right. I’ve never really doubted his fidelity. It’s my own that concerns me.”

  “Wait, don’t tell me—you’ve got a young stud muffin on the side that you’re holding out. Why don’t you just go ahead and admit it?”

  “Girl, okay, yes, you’re right. I have a young stud on the side who hits it from the back.”

  Sequoia looked eager to hear more. “I knew it.”

  “And an old sugar daddy who sucks my toes, and a doctor, my own mother-in-law’s doctor mind you, who lets me play nurse, and a bouncer at Foreplay and the stripper at Ebony’s, and one at T & A’s and…”

  Sequoia turned down her machine as well and leaned toward Mercedes to interrupt. “A stripper? Have you lost your cotton-pickin’ mind?”

  “That’s exactly it. My mind is lost in a sea of infidelity. I can’t stop fantasizing about people when I make love to my own husband.”

  “Mercedes, now that might not be so bad.” She looked to the side in thought. “Actually, I think all of that is pretty normal, except for the stripper. And Bo, the bouncer?”

  Mercedes looked around to make sure the man next to her was deep into his headphones. “Normal, huh? Well, it seems like I can’t control it and it’s getting to the point where I don’t even want to have sex because I never know who’s going to pop into my head and into our bed.” Suddenly, Mercedes looked at Sequoia like she was the National Enquirer, noticing the nosey look on her face. “I don’t think I should even be telling you any more, judging by the way you’re looking at me. Sequoia, this is a problem. Not just some gossip you heard about at the beauty shop. I need help.”

  “When did this start?”

  “I think a couple of years ago, Dr. Smith,” Mercedes teased, calling her by her last name.

  “That long ago?”

  “I think so. All of a sudden I’ve had this vivid ass imagination that I can’t control.”

  Sequoia just stared.

  Mercedes noticed her silence. “I’m not getting anywhere telling you about this. I’m actually getting more frustrated.” She turned up the speed.

  “No, come on now. I want to help you. I’m glad you wanted to share it with me. Have you told Mason?”


  “No. I think he knows I zone out, almost into another world when we make love but shit, so does he.”

  “Damn, the two of you could be screwing everybody on the block in your heads.”

  “Not.”

  “Let’s give this workout a rest,” Sequoia said, stepping off of the treadmill. She walked toward the locker room, wiping the sweat from her face and swigging her bottled water. Mercedes stepped down, too, and walked beside her, wiping her forehead with her wristband.

  Sequoia continued, “Okay now seriously, I think some of this is very normal. I mean I’ve done that before myself. I had this man who liked me to lay flat back along the end of the bed while he would go down on me. He liked to be on his knees on the floor and he’d just go for the gold. So all I could see was the ceiling. I’d have to imagine him being all kind of people, even my boss one time.”

  “Ooh, that’s really naughty,” Mercedes said with sarcasm. She opened her locker.

  “You should have seen his Herman Munster face. You would have done the same thing. But damn, he could munch the carpet.”

  “I ain’t mad at you.”

  “Mercedes, some people think about an ex or even fantasize about being watched. Believe me, there are kinkier things out there than what you’re worried about. But I don’t think it’s abnormal to do that at all. Especially if your own man’s stimulation isn’t enough.”

  Mercedes said, “Oh please, girl. You actually think that’s it? Oh, I don’t think so. Mason is definitely enough. But I hear what you’re saying. You’re saying I’m just semi-weird, not totally weird?”

  “No. Actually, I’m going to check this out on the Internet. There have to be books out there or focus groups, something.”

  “This sounds like some Sex and the City episode. I can picture Samantha sitting at a seminar saying, ‘My name is Samantha and I’m addicted to sexual fantasies.’ Oh Lord, help me,” Mercedes cried.

  “That’s a start. Pray.” The ring of Sequoia’s cell interrupted them. She reached into her locker to grab it.

  “I’ll bet that’s Torino,” Mercedes teased.

  “Just might be.” Sequoia flipped it open. “Hi there. Sure. Eight o’clock is fine. I’ll see you there.” She hung up. “He wants me to come by the club early for dinner on Wednesday.”

  “Damn, you didn’t waste any time calling him, did you? Just take it slow,” Mercedes warned.

  “Why?”

  “He’s rebounding from crazy Colette.”

  Sequoia got loud to make her point. “Who gives a shit? It’s been so long since I had sex. I say Torino can rebound his ass off with me. All of a sudden that brotha turns me the heck on.”

  “Okay. Go for it.” Mercedes peeked around the corner to make sure no one was around and then walked away with her towel around her waist and her major breasts hanging. “Sequoia, I’m about to go take a shower. And then I need a Cinnabon. You want to go?”

  “No, I’m going to go home and get cleaned up. I need to go make some calls and check on some airfares for that NAACP event. I’ll see you later.” Sequoia put on her hooded sweatshirt.

  “Okay,” Mercedes yelled. “Let me know what you find out. Otherwise, I’m checking myself into the Calabasas Center for the treatment of sexual addiction.”

  “We’ll get to the root of it soon.” Sequoia stopped as she turned the corner of the aisle, realizing that an older woman was on the other side seemingly in shock from their conversation. Sequoia pulled her hood over her head as she exited the locker room.

  Early that Wednesday night, Torino and Sequoia met at the club for dinner. They sat in a booth in the rear section of the dining room. Her skirt was short and tight. She pulled at it to get comfortable as they prepared to get cozy over an intimate meal together. Within two minutes of the waiter handing them their menus, Torino’s door manager approached.

  Torino spoke before he could say a word. “Man, I’m trying to have a meal here.”

  “I know, sir, but the combination to the safe isn’t working.”

  Torino thought for a minute, glancing at Sequoia.

  She gave a green light smile. “Go ahead, Torino, this is your place of business.”

  Torino was a little surprised by her kindness. But he refused to be interrupted. He looked at his doorman and said, “Just give me an hour. That’s all I ask. I know you can handle this, man.”

  Sequoia encouraged him again. “Torino, go ahead and tend to your business. I’ll be fine, really. I need to make a couple of calls anyway.”

  He almost felt like he was asking for permission but he asked with a smile. “Are you sure?”

  She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m sure.”

  He gave in. “Just order whatever you want and I’ll be right back.”

  His doorman seemed to rush him. “Sir, the club opens in thirty minutes.”

  Torino stood up. “I’m coming. I thought you were the assistant manager, so assist my ass.” His manager stared at him and looked at Sequoia, lowering his eyes as he walked away while Torino leaned over the table at Sequoia, preparing to excuse himself again.

  “Torino, obviously this club can’t run without you. That must be a good feeling.”

  “Yeah, right. Please go ahead and order. I’ll be right back.”

  An hour later, people started to infiltrate the bar area just as the DJ began to set up his sounds. Sequoia made her way from the dining room to the bar and took a seat. She watched Torino run around, racing from the kitchen to the front door, and greeting groups of people, directing them into the VIP area and escorting them to various sitting areas. He walked over behind the bar with his assistant and looked up at Sequoia.

  “Baby, I am so sorry about this. I should have known better than to plan something private at the club during business hours.”

  A younger gentleman walked up to Sequoia and offered to buy her a drink. She looked at Torino and replied, “Sure, that would be nice. I’ll have an Absolut Mandarin, straight up.”

  Torino spoke to the man. “What up, man?” The tall, athletic-looking gentleman nodded his head in return. Torino then spoke to his bartender while pointing his head in the direction of the young man. “Miguel, you have a customer over here.” He spoke to Sequoia. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, backing away before being pulled to the side by a waitress.

  Sequoia chatted it up with a few men throughout the night, danced a couple of times, and hung out with her hairdresser who showed up with a group of ladies celebrating a wedding engagement. As the night wound down, she said her good-byes and made her way toward the ladies’ room before calling it a night. As she came out, Torino was standing at the door, waiting like he was standing guard.

  He asked, “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “Yes, I always have fun here. One day you’ll be able to enjoy your own club and not have to work so hard.”

  “I hope so. Perhaps it is better to be running around than sitting around, trying to pull patrons in off the street.”

  She reached in her purse to find her valet ticket. “I guess so. Anyway, Torino, thanks for inviting me. I’ll talk to you later.” She leaned in to give him a hug and he put his hands on each side of her waist to stop her.

  “Sequoia, I really am sorry about dinner. Did you get to order anything?”

  “I had a Thai salad and some great Chardonnay. Thanks a lot for taking care of that.” She noticed Torino’s frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “Next time…”

  She interrupted him, almost as if she didn’t want him to answer her question after all. “Torino, I have to get going now.”

  “Okay, but will you do me a favor?”

  “What?” she asked, prepared to step away.

  “Just would you?”

  “What, Torino?”

  He touched her arm as if to direct her eyes to his. “Come home with me.”

  She broke the glance. “Torino, please. You have got to be kid-ding.”

  “Sequoia, I’m not kiddin
g. I just want to spend some time alone with you. I really need that tonight and I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance earlier. Please.”

  “You don’t want to be alone tonight?”

  “No,” he said with his voice, his eyes, and his touch.

  She waited for a second, and then answered almost as though she was still unsure. “Okay, Torino, I’ll bite. What time do you get off?”

  He shook himself out of doubt mode and replied. “I’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes. Will you wait?” Now both of his hands embraced her hand.

  She pointed. “I’ll wait right here by the door.”

  He suggested, “Or at the bar. Order whatever you’d like.”

  She shook her head. “No more bar for me. I’ll take a seat right here. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

  “I’ll be right out. Thanks, Sequoia. You can follow me in your car, right?”

  “No problem,” she said, taking a seat on a red high-back chair near the entrance. She placed her tiny gold bag in her lap, crossed her legs, and smiled as Torino walked back toward the kitchen door. He looked at her for a moment, his glance on her never-ending, firm-looking legs, and smiled back. He disappeared through the double steel door just as the DJ announced the last song for the evening, “Hot Boyz” by Missy. Sequoia looked around at all of the die-hard clubbers who started to exit, bobbed her head without even realizing she was mouthing the words and sang along, “Where you live, is it by yourself? Can I move with you, do you need some help? I cook boy, I’ll give you more, I’m a fly girl, and I like those Hot Boyz.”

  Chapter 11

  At nearly two-thirty in the morning, Sequoia pulled up behind Torino’s car in Mason and Mercedes’s long driveway. She got out and walked with Torino as he led the way, holding her hand while they quietly headed toward his door. They stepped inside and she took a seat on his tan sofa. She wondered what the heck she was doing there. “So, now what?”

  “Now what, what?” he asked, turning on a couple of lights.

  Sequoia tried to figure it out, as if she didn’t know. “Did you invite me over to watch a movie, talk, play checkers? What?”

  Torino placed his keys on his bar and took off his suit coat, hanging it up in the hall closet. “I invited you over to spend a little time together.”

 

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