by Keisha Ervin
“Where is Sean, by the way?” Jay asked.
“Touring,” Q answered, trying her best to hide her pain.
“Well, how come he ain’t take you wit’em?” Erniece questioned.
“Auntie, wives don’t really go on tour with their husbands. Besides, I trust Sean,” Q lied.
“Shit, you’s a good one, niece. Let ’em fuck wit’ a bitch like me. He’ll have a tracking device stuck up his ass.”
“This conversation is officially over.” Taylor got up from the table to empty her plate.
After dinner, Q and Ahsim sat on the porch enjoying the cool summer air. Ralph stood outside the car, puffing on a cigarette. A couple of neighborhood kids raced around playing tag. Rays from the sun seemed to dance across Q’s face as she crossed her arms and embraced herself. Her entire presence was like the wind: soft, cool, and free. So many thoughts and secrets lay behind her slanted eyes.
Ahsim wanted to know the real woman behind the magnetic smile. He had to make her see that she could trust him. She had no reason to run. Q was a rose ready to bloom. All she had to do was open her eyes and realize that she was worth so much more. There was a man out there who would love her for her, and, given the opportunity, Ahsim wanted to prove that he was that man.
“Your family is crazy as hell,” he commented.
“Yeah, but I love ’em anyway.” Q laughed as her cell began to ring.
The number came up on the screen as restricted, so she didn’t answer.
“So you grew up on Holly Avenue?”
“Born and raised.”
“That’s hella crazy. My peoples live right off Carter.”
“Get out of here. Really?” Q asked, amazed.
“Yeah.” Ahsim nodded.
“Wonder why we never ran into each other?”
“That’s a good question.” His eyes roamed over her physique.
Q turned away and smiled.
“I’ma be honest wit’ you, Q. I thought you grew up wit’ paper.”
“What made you think that?”
“The way you carry yo’self. You fly than a muthafucka.”
“Thanks,” she giggled. “But, nah. My peoples making it, but they ain’t got much. I wish I could do more but,” she inhaled deeply and shook her head. “About last night—”
“You good, ma,” he cut her off. “Your secret safe wit’ me.”
“But that’s what I’m afraid of. Secrets can cause a lot of problems.”
“Quit trippin’. All we did was kiss; it’s nothing.”
“Yeah, okay,” Q rolled her eyes and laughed. “Don’t front; that kiss had you weak in the knees.”
“Man, please.” he waved her off.
“A’ight, we’ll see.” She turned and sashayed back into the house. “We’ll see.”
It was one of those lazy Monday afternoons that felt like Sunday. Rain poured heavily from the sky. Q sat cross-legged on the couch underneath a chocolate wool throw. The sound of rain tapping against the windowpane soothed her. Q picked up her favorite mug filled with green tea and took a sip. The relaxing drink warmed her insides. Content, she placed the cup back on a coaster and picked up the remote.
For a while, she roamed aimlessly through the channels until she came to the E! network. The Daily 10 was on. Q stretched her legs and leaned her back against the arm of the couch. The show was down to its last ten minutes of airtime, but Q still didn’t want to miss it. The number two story was whether Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson were still together. Q chuckled to herself. Lindsay hadn’t had a hit movie in years and still managed to be newsworthy.
The number one story would be on after the break. While a commercial for Rothman Furniture played, Q wondered if she should have the chef make her something for dinner or go out. The sound of her cell phone ringing distracted her from her thoughts. Q recognized the number on the screen and sucked her teeth.
“What?” she answered with an attitude. “I ain’t got nothing to say to you,” she spat. “When I wanted to talk you was too busy wit’ that bitch, so be wit’ the bitch . . .
No, you don’t love me. Yeah, okay, whateva,” she shot, hanging up the phone. “He got me fucked up.”
“Who got you fucked up?” Ahsim asked, taking a seat next to her.
“Nobody.” She folded her arms under her breasts and resumed watching television.
The Daily 10 was back on.
“The number one story for the day is,” Sal Masekela said into the camera, “while partying in Miami, Midwest rapper Sean Pynn was caught all over Czech supermodel Jasmine Kurkova.”
Video footage of the two of them kissing popped onto the screen.
“The two were seen over the weekend in Miami at Club Mansion. Now, you ask what makes this newsworthy. Well, Sean is married . . . and has been for quite a while to Maxim magazine hottie Queen. We here at The Daily 10 wonder how Mrs. Pynn feels about this.”
Q’s heart sank to her knees. She’d tried to be blind to Sean’s cheating ways, but he’d never embarrassed her like this before. Over the years she’d heard through the grapevine of his trysts with R&B superstars and A-list actresses, but none had been made public knowledge. Q only had herself to blame. The more time she let pass, the further down she became on his to-do list.
She noticed the calls he’d get that would cause him to leave the room, but she looked past them. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but crying never kept him home anyway. Nothing she ever did got through to him. This time Sean had taken things too far. Public humiliation was the worst kind of pain Q could endure. He’d shattered her heart, and nothing he could ever say or do would mend it again.
“I can’t believe this muthafucka,” she spat, turning off the TV.
“Damn ol’ boy doing it like that,” Ahsim said, dumbfounded.
“Really?” Q looked at him like he was stupid.
“My bad. I ain’t mean it like that,” he apologized. “So what you gon’ do?”
“What can I do? I signed a stupid prenup that says if I leave I get nothing. As long as I’m Sean’s wife I’m entitled to everything. So fuck it, I can’t leave. I’m not going back to the fuckin’ hood. Been there, done that. Besides, that crazy muthafucka already said if I try to leave he would kill me, so you tell me what I should do.”
“Go to the fuckin’ police.”
“I already tried that. The police won’t listen to me and neither did Sean’s mother or father. When I tried to talk to them they basically gave me their ass to kiss. And what fucks me up the most is his parents didn’t even believe in him at first. They thought rappin’ was a waste of time, but now that Sean is rich, guess who his biggest fans are.”
“That’s fucked up. I mean, the only advice I can give you is to leave, but obviously that’s not an option. So I don’t know what you can do.” He massaged his chin thoughtfully.
“I just wish I could get away from this muthafucka. It’s like he’s just determined to hurt me.” Q’s bottom lip trembled as tears streamed down her face. “I wish I could kill him.”
Suddenly, the house phone began to ring. A moment later, Rosa, the maid, came into the sitting room.
“Miss,” Rosa said, “it’s your mother.”
“Tell her I’m busy. I’ll call her back later,” she cried.
“Okay.”
“Yo, Q, chill out.” Ahsim rubbed her knee. “Cryin’ ain’t even you.”
“I know, it just hurts.” She covered her face with her hands as the phone rang again.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s a reporter on the phone from US Weekly magazine. She wants to know how you feel about the footage.”
“How does it look like I feel, Rosa?” Q snapped, heated. “My husband is off somewhere fuckin’ some Czech bitch and the whole world knows about it! How in the fuck would you feel?”
“Rosa,” Ahsim intervened, calmly. “First, tell the reporter no comment. If anybody else from the media calls, tell them that Mrs. Pynn will not be taking any phone ca
lls, a’ight?”
“Yes, sir.” She turned to leave.
“And Rosa.”
“Yes, Mr. Ahsim.” She turned back around.
“Give me and Mrs. Pynn a minute alone.”
“Sure thing.” She closed the door behind her.
“Now, back to you, beautiful.” Ahsim scooted closer to Q. “You are way too fly to be sweatin’ some lame-ass nigga.”
“No, I’m not.” She sniffed as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
“I know it hurts, ma, but feelin’ sorry for yourself ain’t gon’ change the situation.”
Q took a hold of Ahsim’s hand. “Well, help me get over it then.” She shamelessly kissed the palm of it.
“Fuckin’ me ain’t gon’ stop the pain, either.” He took her face into his hands and passionately kissed her lips.
“No, but it’ll make me feel good,” Q whispered, placing a trail of kisses down his neck.
Ahsim swiftly pulled his T-shirt over his head, then removed her tank top. Filled with desire, he gazed into her eyes and slowly peeled down her leggings. To his surprise, she wore no panties or bra. Ahsim stripped off his clothes and knelt before her. Q parted her legs and welcomed his tongue on her clit.
Ahsim slithered his tongue like a snake over the lips of her pussy. Q closed her eyes tight and enjoyed the sensation. Her freshly manicured nails massaged his head as he licked and bit her clit with manic aggression.
“Ahsim . . . shit,” she purred.
Ahsim made his way up. He pushed her breasts together and began manipulating her nipples with his tongue. Her breasts were his favorite part of her. Q tried to be ladylike, but the way his tongue flicked across her nipples drove her insane. She couldn’t help but touch herself. Forbidden thoughts of all the freaky things she wanted to try crammed her mind. Ahsim teasingly slid his dick up and down the center of her wet slit.
Q ached for him to enter her. She was beyond aroused. As the tips of her fingers played with her clit, Ahsim grabbed his hard dick and inserted himself deep within her valley. Q’s hand immediately went from her clit to his back as her eyes flew open and she gasped. Ten inches of chocolate, brown sugar was slowly rockin’ her pussy to sleep.
Q scratched his back in agony and moaned, “Ooh, daddy, you feel so good.”
A cornucopia of pleasure and pain traveled throughout her pelvis, all the way down to her toes. Each stroke sent her to the moon where her breasts kissed the stars. Their warm bodies melted into one another, becoming one. Before Q knew it, she’d been flipped over. Her hands gripped the arm of the couch in anticipation of him entering her again. Sticky white cream saturated Ahsim’s dick. The visual turned him on even more. Q’s pussy was the best. Back inside, he sped up his pace.
“Ahh,” she yelled, overtaken by the size of him.
“You gotta be quiet, ma,” he said as she caught his thrust and threw it back at him.
“I can’t,” Q whined. “It feels too good. You gon’ make me cum, baby. Ooh.”
Ahsim leaned forward and placed his hand over her mouth so no one would be able to hear her screams. Together they both came. A rush of energy surged through their bodies. Ahsim fell limp onto Q’s back, her breasts cupped in his hands. Q breathed in and out. What she and Ahsim had just created was sinful and decadent, but the thought still remained: why did she feel so empty?
Ahsim lay on his back with his right hand under his head and his left on the curve of Q’s hip. She straddled him, riding him slowly. The woman was a beast in the bedroom. They’d been having sex all night. Now, it was early afternoon and Q still couldn’t get enough of him. Q was riding a wave of ecstasy. She’d called on God in every language known to man. Ahsim fucked her so good that she was willing to give him anything. She’d give him candy, buy him diamonds, and feed him breakfast in bed. He could have all her money. Whatever he wanted he could have, as long as he didn’t take his dick away.
“Ooh, I love this dick.” She eyed him hungrily and bit her bottom lip.
“Show me how much you love it then,” Ahsim challenged.
“Anything for you, daddy.” She smiled, while easing her way down.
Q took his rock solid dick into her hands and placed it inside her wanting mouth. Every lick was sinful and pleasing to her palette. The rigid veins of his dick thumped against the bud of her tongue. Ahsim couldn’t contain himself. If Q continued to suck his dick with such reckless abandon, he was sure to explode.
“Fuck . . . I told you to show me, but damn,” he groaned.
Hearing his reaction only turned Q on more. She wanted him to cum, so she bobbed her head at a faster pace.
“Ahh,” he moaned loudly as she deep-throated his dick.
Q sensed that he was about to cum, so she eased him out of her mouth and flicked her tongue across the tip. Ahsim was done, finito, finished. Cum shot from his penis onto Q’s hands. She happily jerked his shaft until every last drop was out.
“Goddamn, you the shit,” he panted heavily.
“I aim to please.” She winked, then got up to go to the bathroom.
After washing her hands and rinsing with mouthwash, she pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail. Q felt happier then she had in years. She and Ahsim connected on an emotional and physical level. He understood her feelings, and the way he made her body quiver took her attraction for him to new levels. Q turned off the light and went back into her bedroom. Ahsim sat on Sean’s side of the bed, beckoning her.
“No, baby, we gotta get up, time for us to get dressed.” She grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on.
“You right,” he reluctantly agreed.
“I know I am.” She sauntered over and tenderly pecked his lips. “Ooh, I got a’ idea.” She jumped back, excited.
“What’s up?”
“We should get out of town for day or two while Sean is still gone. Maybe go to Chicago or something. That way we don’t have to hide or sneak around.”
“That don’t sound to bad.” Ahsim stepped into his boxers. “Maybe—”
“Mrs. Pynn.” Rosa tapped on the door.
“Yes?” Q covered Ahsim’s mouth.
“Your husband is on the phone. He’d like to speak to you.”
“Okay, I’ll take the call from the phone in here.”
“Sure thing, miss.”
Q removed her hand from Ahsim’s mouth and crept over to the door. She had to make sure the coast was clear; it was.
“Oh my God.” She frantically spun around on her heels and faced Ahsim. “Has he called you? I bet you he has. He’s gonna wonder why you haven’t answered the phone.”
“Calm down.” Ahsim picked up his phone. “You spazzin’ for nothing. He ain’t even called me.”
“Thank God.” Q placed her hand on her chest and let out a sigh of relief.
Nervous as hell, she sat on her side of the bed and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Baby,” Sean cried into the phone.
“What, Sean?”
“I know you mad at me but I can explain. The paparazzi set me up. They Photoshopped that shit, I swear. I put that on everything I love; I ain’t fuckin’ with that bitch. You know I wouldn’t do you like that.”
Q exhaled and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
“The paparazzi can’t Photoshop a video tape, dummy.”
“I’m tellin’ you, baby, it’s some new technology out there. That wasn’t me.” He tried his best to convince her. “But look I need you to do me a favor.”
“I knew it was something,” she scoffed. “What do you want now, Sean?”
“I need you to release a statement saying that although you and I are going through a difficult time, you believe in me one hundred percent and that you ask that the media give us our privacy,” he slowly read from the paper in front of him.
“I wish I could,” Q hissed.
“C’mon, baby, get off the bullshit.”
“The only reason you even on this phone is because your publicist told you to
call,” she spat. “You don’t give a fuck about me. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dipped out on me or the last, so how about you do us both a favor and tell the truth for once in your life.”
Ahsim sat behind her, pleased to hear her stick up for herself.
“You right,” Sean shockingly agreed. “I ain’t gon’ even front. It was me, but fuck all that. You my bitch. I was just fuckin’ that broad. I was gon’ get right back. I swear to God, Q, from day one you the only chick that’s been able to capture my heart.”
Q inhaled deeply and held her breath.
“Tell me you still love me.” Sean just had to know.
It took everything in her to spit out the words but she did anyway. “I love you.” She let out an exasperated breath.
“That’s my girl,” Sean responded, relieved.
“You gon’ release that statement for me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s what’s up,” he said, pleased. “I love you.”
“Yep.”
“Holla,” he said before hanging up.
Q shook her head and hung up too.
“I hope you just told that nigga you loved him to buy some time,” Ahsim spoke up as soon as she got off the phone.
“Buy some time for what?” Q asked, perplexed. “We discussed this. I can’t leave him. Plus, this shit is fucked up anyway,” she realized. “I just fucked you in the bed me and my husband share. I can’t keep on doing this wit’ you.”
“That’s really how you feel?”
“Yeah, this shit is foul.” Q inhaled deeply, then ran her fingers through her hair, overwhelmed. “Besides, you don’t wanna fuck wit’ a chick like me. I’m no good.”
“Look, ma.” Ahsim stayed cool, calm, and collected. “I like you—”
“Ahsim,” Q cut him off.
“Shh.” He placed his index finger on her lips. “I’m talkin’. I’ma do you a favor and fall back. Give you a minute to figure things out. When you have everything figured out, come holla at me.”
And with that said, he grabbed the rest of his things and left her behind, speechless.
Part Three
Supreme Bitch
Q was accustomed to hiding her feelings. Her way of life was to keep her cards close to her chest and never reveal her hand. But lately her emotions were spinning out of control. Ahsim had come into her life and reminded her of how love was supposed to feel. For a long time it had been only a one-sided emotion. Plain and simple, Ahsim was the truth. Q just couldn’t allow him to get the best of her. Fuckin’ with him wasn’t a part of her plan, and he for damn sure wasn’t going to be the reason she got sidetracked.