“Sure. I should be home in twenty minutes.”
“Why you sound so uptight? I was just kidding with you. Oh, no. What happened this time?” he asked.
“I’m good. Come by.”
“Cool. See you in twenty. I love you, gurl.”
“Yeah, I know. Bye, babe.”
Huge raindrops splattered against my windshield. I turned down Big Tigger on V-103 to barely audible. I hadn’t spoken with my mom in a few days. I dialed her from my list of favorites.
Her voice resonated through my car speakers. “Hey, honey. How was class?”
“It was good. I’ll be glad when I’m done.”
“You’re closer to the end than when you started. You only have a short while to go, then we can officially call you Dr. Crystal. How’s James?”
“He’s good. He’s meeting me at my place in a few. You ready for your big five-O? You should celebrate the entire two weeks,” I told her knowing she wouldn’t.
“I’m thinking about putting Fortune out.”
I kept quiet. She’d lied about that before. She never should’ve let his broke ass move in. She didn’t need to hear my opinion again.
“Hello.”
“I’m still here, Mom. Mom?”
“Did you hear me?” she asked with a tone that indicated she was expecting me to comment on her kicking Fortune out.
Instead, I asked, “Who’s my dad?”
Now it was her turn. She became quiet, then sighed. “Baby, you turned out well without him. All of you guys are just fine. Leave it alone. Finding out is only going to disappoint you.”
She didn’t have the right to deny me. The rain stopped as abruptly as it had started. The sun beamed into my windshield. I dug in my purse for my sunglasses and put them on. “I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow. Bye, Mom.”
Somberly, she said, “Bye, honey.”
Lately, I’d been longing more than usual to confront my father. The feeling was more than emotional. The pain in my heart was real. I couldn’t understand why my asking my mother about my father annoyed her. I wasn’t going to stop pressuring her. I was the one with a birth certificate that read “father unknown.”
I was the one suffering. Not her. If she kept refusing to tell me, I’d figure out another way to find his ass.
CHAPTER 4
Alexis
Pulling into the driveway at my complex, I saw that James’s car was on the first floor in one of the visitors’ spaces. I could’ve requested an additional pass and remote for him to enter and park wherever he’d like but I didn’t want to encourage him to show up at my place unannounced, especially since he only paid my twenty-five-hundred-dollar a month rent sometimes.
I tooted my horn. We waited for the black metal security gate to open. He followed me. I parked on level four. He continued up to the sixth floor where there were posted VISITOR PARKING ONLY signs. Soon as we entered my apartment, I put my purse on the table, checked my hair and makeup in the mirror. My pink lipstick was still fresh. I fluffed my long, dark, wavy strands.
We left our shoes by the door, hugged, then stepped onto the plush white carpet in the living room. I exhaled. Every time I made it across my threshold it felt comforting to be home. James gave me a juicy passionate kiss that lightened my spirit. I sat on my white leather sectional.
“What do you feel like doing tonight, sweetheart?” Lying across my sofa he placed the back of his head on my lap.
This man was in love with me. It wasn’t mutual. I cared about him but I’d never been in love. What I appreciated most about James was he accepted me with all my flaws. Others dated me for three months, some longer, but James was the only one that had lasted for three years.
“Why are you so good to me?” I asked him.
James was an excellent protector and a generous provider. In addition to paying for school and my car, he’d whisk me away at least once a month on all-expenses-paid vacations. Occasionally he’d give me money to pay my rent. The sexcapades I gave him in exchange for his kindness were, in my opinion, priceless. I was more than a good lay. I was eye candy. Five-five, a size six, had hazel eyes that sometimes turned green. I thanked my mother for my long, thick, wavy, black, natural hair, full lips, and dark, radiant complexion. Exercising two hours every morning was mandatory to maintain my hour-glass figure.
“You want to catch a movie? Chill here at your place then day after tomorrow we can fly to Miami in the morning. I can book our favorite suite at the Ritz. We can chill poolside, sip on drinks while watching the sunset. You can make your man feel special and we fly back the next day.” Pointing the remote at my flat-screen television, he scrolled through the cable guide. Selected a sports channel.
Tenderly I tugged on his ear. He winked then smiled. I mimicked his expression.
“You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. What happened at school?”
Pressing my bottom lip against my top, I told him, “I’m good.” That dude that I’d smacked down earlier probably hadn’t forgotten me but I was over that situation.
Growing up, half of my friends weren’t living in a two-parent household but all of them had daddy stories. I didn’t have one memory or photo of my father. What was wrong with me? Why didn’t he want to know me? He got my mom pregnant then walked away without offering a minute of his time to be with me. Whatever happened between him and my mom wasn’t my fault.
“We can go to my house tonight. Or,” he said, nodding, “we can go upstairs and you can give me one of your erotic back rubs.”
I shouldn’t hate a man I didn’t know. Truth was, I didn’t know how not to hate my dad. I wasn’t some rag doll without feelings. I was human just like him. I was . . . I had to stop myself from revisiting the empty space in my heart. I was not giving up on one day staring that man in his eyes and asking him, “Why?”
“I’m okay with Miami day after tomorrow.”
“I hate I’m missing your mom’s big day tomorrow but I understand it’s daughters only,” he said. “I’ll tell Blake I’ll do something on the side with her before she goes back to work.”
They had their own relationship and that was cool with me. I told my babe, “I can definitely give you a massage. Not an hour from now. Right now. Just can’t chill with you all night. I’ve got plans.”
Looking at my man, I stroked his smooth cheek. I thanked God for James Wilcox. I knew it was selfish of me to hold on to him with my ulterior motives and deeply rooted problems but I was not letting him go.
Retreating to my loft, we undressed. He got in the shower while I filled my crockpot with water then turned it on high. I placed a plastic bottle filled with sandalwood oil inside the pot then joined my guy. I lathered a towel, scrubbed his lean, muscular body from his shoulders to his ass. After hanging the towel on a rack, I slid my soapy hands up and down his back.
“Lean forward,” I said in a commanding tone. That was my alter ego, Dom, kicking in.
Gently inserting my finger halfway into his rectum, I twirled until he felt clean then firmly told him, “Go lay your ass on the bed face down.”
Holding open the shower door, he stared at me without blinking.
“What?”
“You know what,” he retorted. “So you’re going to hang out with her? Again. Tonight.”
If it ain’t one thing with my man, it was definitely something. “Go lay your ass down before I change my mind.” This was my pussy and I was no longer defending what I did with it.
I closed the shower door. Through the glass, I watched him leave the bathroom. I washed my body, brushed my teeth.
After drizzling hot oil onto his body, I eased the tip of the bottle into his rectum, held it there, gave him a moment to enjoy the warm sensation, then I pulled it out and placed the bottle back in the pot. A few toys were on top of my brown leather chest at the foot of my king-size bed. I picked up my cell to check if I’d missed any calls or messages. Chanel had texted, you coming through. I’d respond to her later. I put my phone back on the ch
est.
Chanel was my friend. I’d known her for a year. We had crazy chemistry from the moment I’d dropped ten, one-dollar bills between her legs while she was performing onstage at Pin Ups. She had the prettiest pink pussy I’d ever seen. I enjoyed going down on my gurl and going to the club to watch her dance.
Rolling over, James said, “You know when we get married, I don’t care if she is your so-called friend. You’re not leaving our house to party with her unless I’m with you.”
That was the double-standard bullshit that made me hard on men. Why would I let James or any man tell me whom I could or couldn’t go out with? I knew a threesome with my gurl had been on his mind for a while but that wasn’t happening. I was not sharing Chanel with anyone. Well, maybe my sexing another female with Chanel might be okay long as it was a desirable stud.
Standing at the side of my bed, I rubbed hot oil over James’s chest and abs. The more I stared at James my energy shifted. The animosity I harbored toward my father started surfacing. My brows grew close together. My lips tightened.
James said, “I recognize that angry look sweetheart. Let it go, Alexis.”
He read me well. If James proposed, if I’d accept, if I’d give birth to this man’s baby, would he leave me the way my dad did my mom? I was certain that my father didn’t care about me the way I longed for him.
I looked at James while massaging his nipples. James was six years older than I. His lips were slightly darker than the rest of his face. His eyes slanted downward on the insides. His goatee was thin and always neatly trimmed.
I wiped my hands on the sheet, then picked up my cell.
James stared at me. “Really, Alexis?”
Softly, I said, “Alexis isn’t here James.”
His dick pointed toward the ceiling. I loved his long chocolate thang. “Shut the hell up. Turn your ass over. I want you up on all fours, bitch. Now! Don’t make me blindfold your ass.”
He obeyed. I replied to Chanel, b there around 10. I locked my phone, tossed it on the chest. It slid onto the floor. I left it there and started playing with my guy’s ass. Licking. Teasing. Sucking. I pleasured him from behind. I drizzled hot oil over the crack of his ass then massaged oil onto his dick and balls.
A half hour later I told him, “Lie on your back.”
Wiping off the excess oil, I tossed the towel aside. I moaned as I smeared his precum all over my face. I sucked his head while firmly stroking his shaft. I stopped soon as I tasted the tartness oozing through his pores signaling he was on the verge of ejaculating.
“Stop spilling my damn seeds. You’re going to cum inside my pussy.” Mounting him, I rode his dick reverse cowgirl, held on to his toes until they curled in the palms of my hands.
He screamed, like a bitch. “Alexis, I’m cumming!”
When he stopped yelling, we chilled for a moment then made our way back to the shower.
“What do you see in her?” he asked.
“Who?”
“Her. What do you see in her?” he asked, standing in front of me. “Are you a lesbian?”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not,” he harshly replied.
“Then why are we having this fucking conversation?”
“Just answer this one question,” he said.
I sighed, releasing my frustrations. “No! No!”
“I promise I won’t ask again. Has any man penetrated your mouth, ass, or pussy since we’ve been together.”
I became quiet.
He became quiet.
Calmly, I told my guy, “Chanel is a good friend. Nothing more.”
“She’s your lover, Alexis. Stop hiding behind the friend bullshit and admit it!”
I didn’t love Chanel either. Not the way she wanted me to.
I shoved him into the wall. Stared into his eyes. Grabbing the back of his neck, I pulled him to me, thrust my tongue into his mouth, sucked his hard, sprawled my hand over his face, then pushed him away.
He tried but couldn’t conceal his smile. “You’re sick. I’m out. I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know what time I’ll pick you up for our Miami getaway.” James exited the shower, dressed, then left.
Relieved that my man was out of my space, I went downstairs, played Pandora through my Bluetooth speaker, mixed a mai tai, then lounged naked on my sofa. Maybe one day I’d meet my dad. Get it all out.
I yelled, “You sorry ass son of a bitch!”
Tempted to hurl my glass at the wall, I refrained. No one heard my cry. The worst part was, no one honestly cared.
CHAPTER 5
Blake
“Thank you for overseeing my new account.”
As I maintained my professional composure, a half smile parted my lips. “Mr. Sterling, you have been a loyal client for fifteen years. It’s my responsibility to ensure your needs are met.” I paused, then added, “Banking needs.”
He chuckled. “Blake, when are you going to accept my dinner invitation?”
This forty-year-old, single, six-foot-eight, dark and handsome man with light brown eyes and wavy hair made me grin on the inside every time he entered my branch.
The first three buttons on his crisp white shirt were undone. The cuffs were neatly folded above his wrists. Slowly, I inhaled, concentrating on making sure my breasts did not heave. The diamonds in his Rolex flickered each time he gestured with his hand.
I replied, “When you’re no longer my client. And don’t even think about transferring anything.” Why couldn’t I meet men like him outside of work?
Picking up my cell, I texted my VP, INU2. That was short for I need you to rescue me.
Brandon strolled to my desk. “Hi, Mr. Sterling. I hate to interrupt but I have to borrow Ms. Crystal from you.” He looked at me. “Ready to start your two weeks’ vacation, birthday girl?”
“Oh, really,” Mr. Sterling said. “And you weren’t going to tell me, huh?” He smiled. “Dinner is now mandatory.”
If I were certain his intentions were strictly business, I’d have lunch with him tomorrow but I sensed they weren’t. I knew mine wouldn’t be. I was flattered but I was no fool. Going out on a date with a client could be viewed by corporate as unethical.
“I’d love to but I can’t accept.”
Twice, my bosses had denied my promotion to district manager. First I was told, You haven’t been in your current position long enough. Then it was, You don’t have enough experience. Now that my branch was averaging twenty thousand transactions per month, the next time there was an opening, I’d be prepared to challenge them or leave the company. If I resigned, I’d definitely go on a date with Mr. Sterling.
“You have my number. Enjoy your time off. I’ll wait for you. And please call me Bing when we’re on our date.” He stood, nodded at Brandon, then left.
Brandon scanned Bing up and down, waited until he exited the bank, then told me, “You know he’s family.”
My jaw dropped. “Shut the front door,” I said.
“You might as well, honey,” Brandon said, walking away.
For a moment I was confused, then I discounted his comment. Brandon suspected all men were bisexual, bi-curious, or gay. I removed my nameplate from my desk, locked it in my drawer, then headed to the break room. My gifts were on the table where I’d left them after lunch. The staff had surprised me with a Godiva cheesecake, catering from prettiplates.com, a bottle of champagne, and a dozen long-stemmed white roses.
“Let me help you to the car,” Brandon offered, picking up the roses and gift bags filled with goodies.
A few of my customers gave me cards. One sent a beautiful rubber tree plant. I left it on the credenza behind my desk as a reminder of how people I barely knew cared more about my birthday than the man whom I’d dedicated five years to. Brandon put the gifts in my car, then followed me to the driver’s side.
“Thanks,” I told him, opening my arms. “Now if you need me, call me.”
Brandon held me as he spoke into my ear. “You only turn fift
y once, Blake. You take excellent care of everybody else. Tomorrow, make it all about you, honey. Forget about those grown girls and if you want to, get you some good, young, hung, succulent dick. Be a ho for a day, honey. If you need me to hook you up, I have a few straight friends that would love you.”
There was no shortage of dick in this metrosexual vortex. There was also no shortage of new HIV cases. And although there wasn’t a cure, Truvada—the HIV and AIDS prevention pill—was giving people a newfound comfort to have unprotected sex. The one thing I could testify to was I’d never contracted anything from Fortune. Not even a cold.
“If you don’t want me to find you a man, use the toy I bought you. You don’t have to wait until you get home. Pop it in your panties, tune in to Majic 107.5, and toot your horn at every bitch you drive by.”
“What in the world did you get me?” I laughed. “Mr. Cutter, you are a hot mess.”
A black sparkling Porsche parked next to my car. I redirected my attention to Brandon. He always knew how to make me feel better. He let go, opened my door, waited for me to strap in. Maybe I’d leave his toy in the car and use it tomorrow.
Closing my door, I lowered my window. “Thanks, Brandon. You’re a true friend.”
I heard a familiar voice say, “Hey, Blake. Glad I caught you.” It was Jeremy Hill hurrying toward me. He handed me an envelope with my name on it. “Happy birthday.”
My eyes lit up. A wide smile parted my lips. Brandon had stepped aside. His eyes were set in my direction but I knew him well. His peripheral was on Jeremy.
“You remembered. Thanks.”
“You thought I’d forget. You’re in VIP for Brick, Midnight Star, the S.O.S. Band, and Morris Day. Get there early. I gotta run. Enjoy the show,” he said. Getting in the Porsche, he sped off.
Brandon looked into my eyes, then said, “Blake Crystal, you have a lot to be thankful for. You raised four beautiful girls by yourself. You have a gorgeous home in Roswell that you paid off. You’re sitting in this all-white Mercedes-Benz sedan that’s paid for. You have a red Ferrari in your garage that you seldom crank up. Drive that bitch tomorrow, Blake. You worked your way up to president of this branch. Don’t worry. You’ll get the next DM position. You’re the best supervisor I’ve ever worked for, honey. And I’ma stop there, bitch, ’cause I’m getting emotional.”
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