The last kiss before I drove off was the best.
CHAPTER 21
Blake
Powering on my cell, I saw I had twenty missed calls. Three from Mercedes. Two from Devereaux. The rest were from Fortune.
Starting my Ferrari, I doubted I’d run into Alexis. Her late nights at the strip club with Chanel usually meant awakenings closer to noon. I drove past my daughter’s Lexus on the fourth level and kept going.
Happy that I no longer had to regret what it was like to live alone, I was excited that I was a single detached woman. I’d had sex with Spencer first so I knew Alexis wouldn’t come behind me. Just like the both of them I could entertain whomever, whenever I wanted.
I exited his garage, turned east onto Pharr Road. The joy of solitude while sitting on my sofa, I was looking forward to that. I could not wait to swim naked in my pool, chill in my Jacuzzi, hell, control the remote to my own television.
I called Brandon.
He answered, “Bitch, if you did not ride that dick I’m hanging up.”
I laughed. “He made me squirt.”
Silence followed.
“Hello?”
“Bitch, I just died and came back. I can’t hear this over the phone. Face-to-face. Where are you?”
My cheeks hurt from smiling. “I’m headed to see Marcus Darlin.”
“Bitch, stop! How did you get on his calendar? I’ma headed over there right now. Good-bye.”
Brandon really ended our call. I kept laughing, not remembering when was the last time I had a juicy sexcapade to tell anyone about. Sharing my body with Spencer was easy. He’d made it that way.
I stared at the photo Spencer had taken of us together, then made it my screen saver. He was so sexy. Those eyes. His closed smile. The thought of his lips between my legs a few minutes ago made me moist.
Honk! Honk!
Turning onto Piedmont, I merged into the middle lane. The woman behind me needed to relax. Get laid. Stop blowing her horn and blow a man. Damn. I hadn’t sucked his dick. Didn’t even kiss it. Should I apologize? He didn’t seem to care. Glancing at my cell, I tapped my message app, then Spencer’s name.
A call came in from Mercedes as the person behind me skidded around my car at the Sidney Marcus Boulevard intersection. I stopped at the red light by Chick-fil-A to give her time to move on.
I answered, “Hey, honey.”
“Don’t hey-honey me. Where are you?” she demanded.
“On my way to the salon. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Mother, why haven’t you an—”
I ended the call, blasted Beyoncé’s “Drunk in Love,” playing on 107.5, then shouted, “Oh, baby!” in my most raspy tone. All the way to the salon, I replayed the scene with my knees on his oversize chair.
As I turned onto Edgewood Avenue, thoughts of Spencer’s big dick inside my pussy filled me up. Gushing all over his smooth black leather chair made me shout, “Oh, baby!” I whipped my sports car into a space next to Mercedes’s car.
Marcus Darlin opened the door. “Blake, get your behind in here! If it weren’t for Mercedes begging me to stay, you’d be off my schedule.”
I was only fifteen minutes behind schedule. I rushed inside. Mercedes was in a stylist chair with her legs crossed. Her foot swayed back and forth.
Marcus Darlin pointed at his chair. “Sit.”
Fingering my hair, he commented, “No need to ask what you’ve been doing. What style do you have in mind?”
“Give her something elegant and age-appropriate. And trim those edges,” Mercedes said, thumbing through the recent issue of Hair magazine.
“Honey, too late for that. Her edges have already been trimmed,” Marcus Darlin said, then added, “Real good.”
Mercedes eyed my attire. “Mama, why did you still have that on?”
“Have what on?” Devereaux asked, entering the salon. She stopped. Stared. “Mama, you could’ve changed your clothes. Do you have on the same underwear?”
“Blake, plead the fifth,” Marcus Darlin said. “That’s why I never wear any.” He took my cell out of my hand and placed it in his drawer.
I laughed. I was in a great mood. “I’m clean. That’s all that matters,” I said.
Suddenly, I remembered Spencer’s car was at his job.
“Mercedes, Devereaux, out!” Marcus Darlin, shouted. “Come back in three hours to pick up Ms. Blake.”
“I need my phone, Marcus Darlin,” I told him.
My girls walked out. Brandon entered.
Marcus said, “You too. Out! Come back in three hours. And Ms. Blake, no. You are not getting your phone until I’m done.”
Spencer seemed resourceful. He’d get to his car. His seeing my new do would make him happy. I was actually relieved Marcus Darlin had put everyone out. That way I could get the style I wanted without their input.
CHAPTER 22
Spencer
Rolling over, I snagged my cell from the nightstand, ignored the messages from Charlotte, then texted Fabulous, miss you already
Lying on my back, I spread my thighs to let my nuts breathe. I did twelve dick curls. Had six more to go. Had to keep my foundation strong. Got the next half dozen out of the way, then moved on to my pull-and-resist exercise. Squeezing my shaft, I tugged my dick away from my body then I used my PC muscles to bring my dick toward me. I went back and forth until I’d done twenty. I did that every morning.
I’d read in one of my books that a hard dick drove women wild. That shit was true. Females didn’t care which hole my piece was in. They were fascinated that this motherfucka felt like steel. Glad I learned early on that fucking wasn’t the same as exercising. Pumping didn’t account for much if after busting loose I couldn’t get my shit right back up.
Damn, I didn’t know which was hotter, that blazin’ Ferrari, or Fabulous in that tight red halter dress with all that cleavage facing me while a brotha was trying to serve up cocktails last night. Her virgin asshole turned me on too. If she gave me the green light, I was break-in’ that all the way in. The right way. A little at a time. Vegas was the perfect spot.
Damn, I never asked Fabulous what she did to earn her keep. It didn’t matter. I knew it was legit. I could tell she wasn’t random like that daughter of hers. The one who’d tooted her ass in my direction. I hadn’t missed that. She knew I was interested in her mom. The way she moved let me know she was trouble with a capital T. Conversing with Alexis right before she left the restaurant, I’d gotten an erection. A man would never put on his drawers if he tried to get all the available pussy in the ATL but I couldn’t lie. I wanted to hit that. I’d be a fool to do so since I’d done her mom. Alexis was a different kind of crazy. Freak might be a better word.
Mother and daughter. I hadn’t done that at the same time before. Wondered if LB was still interested in Alexis. I shot him a text, Ole gurl gave it up last nite. You still want in on her offspring?
I knew Blake wasn’t lying about her age. She could though. If she’d told me she was forty-five, I’d believe her. Forty. Not so much. I knew she had to have men of all ages trying to get with that the same way I was on it with a quickness. Atlanta was that spot. A lot of sexual interactions happened in less than twenty-fo of saying hello.
Soon as LB’s text, give her my digs to give to her daughter, came in, my doorbell rang. That wasn’t happening until I made up my mind about Alexis.
Eagerly climbing out of bed, I smiled, rinsed my mouth with wash, then rushed to the living room. Maybe she remembered what I’d mentioned about getting into the building. Maybe she came back to ride me before giving me a ride to my car.
I opened the door, and my smile disappeared. It wasn’t Fabulous.
It was Charlotte.
Leaving the door open, the first thing I noticed was she didn’t have my clothes. I went to the kitchen. Poured a shot of vodka, downed it, then refilled my shot glass. Downed that one, too, then refilled again.
“What’s up?” I asked her.
I
used to cater to Charlotte until she cheated on me. Apparently one man wasn’t enough for her lil hot ass. Yeah, I probably deserved that shit now but before she’d stepped out, I was one hundred faithful.
My ego was more of a bitch than any female. But on the real, I hated the fucking drama.
“Where my . . .” Charlotte paused. Stared at the bag on the bench.
Damn! Before I got to the bag, she snatched it.
“Who’s this shit for?” she asked, thumbing through Fabulous’s things.
I told her, “You. Take it with you on your way out.”
“You’re a damn liar, Spencer!” Charlotte stood inches from me. Looked up at my face. She did not blink once.
I went to the kitchen counter, picked up the glass, tossed back the shot. Refueled. This woman literally drove me to drink whenever she was on. Our relay wasn’t always this amplified.
“What bitch did you fuck last night? She ate my food, too?”
Walking around her, I answered, “Not today.” I went to my bedroom.
Charlotte was so close on me I felt her breasts nudge my back.
“I said! Not today!”
“Oh, I see y’all had a good time! You give that bitch my Charlotte special?” She rubbed her fingertips on my black leather chair. “Uh-huh. Fuck you, Spencer!”
She tapped her shoe on the floor in front of the chair. “You bastard! You made her squirt! I taught you that shit!”
What difference did that make? She got the info from reading one of my books. Charlotte and no other woman I’d bedded had a monopoly on sexual techniques and positions. Hell, I expected to learn something from every woman I sexed. Otherwise what was the point? Fabulous would teach me some things eventually.
Tossing the cover back, Charlotte said, “That’s why your sheets are scrambled like your eggs? Huh, motherfucka?”
No use in denying or admitting the truth. This woman should’ve been a forensic scientist, police, or a dominatrix. Charlotte wasn’t a control freak. She was straight crazy.
“Charlotte. Please, leave. I’m asking you nicely to . . .” My voice trailed off, then escalated, “Get the fuck out of my house!”
She stormed out of the bedroom. Slammed the door. The next sounds I heard were shattering. I ran into the living area.
“I’m tired of you fucking up my shit every time you get pissed off! Where’s your other nigga! Go fuck up his shit!” I opened my front door. “Get out!”
No one would understand if I’d beat her ass. Why did she provoke me? Exhaling, I pictured the photo hanging in my bathroom of my mom and me. We were so happy back that Easter Sunday. Why did she have to leave me? Life wasn’t the same without her. Nobody understood how close we were. No one was there for me now. Not even Charlotte. I was supposed to be tough and shit but I was weak when it came to missing my mom. That was my main gurl. After the funeral everyone who’d said, “I’m here for you,” retreated to their world.
I wished I could put a time frame on grieving. Seem like my pain was never going to end. When my mom stopped breathing, a part of me stopped caring until I’d met Charlotte. Then my gurl shattered my ego.
So what if I did give Blake the “Spencer,” not “Charlotte” special. Charlotte didn’t have a dick. Everybody deserved to feel good and the next breath wasn’t promised to me or anyone else.
Charlotte’s father was killed a year ago. She was no longer Daddy’s girl. An accident, a couple fighting while driving, ran him into an embankment on I-85 South near the Williams exit. Maybe that was why she started seeing the other guy. After she lost her dad, I believed she was in search of the nurturing her father gave her.
I gave her attention but knew that wasn’t the same. She couldn’t give me what moms did. I couldn’t replace her old man. I had no idea how to keep her happy anymore but I knew for sure that I hated this shit!
Charlotte started crying. “I don’t want him. I made a mistake. If you don’t want to be with me just say so. And you’ll never have to say it twice.”
She knew I had a weak spot in my heart for her. I hugged her close to my chest. The tears I cried were for my mom. I wondered what hers were for? Why were we destroying one another? I loved this woman. But there were times when she drove me fucking nuts.
I wasn’t cool with the fact that my gurl had opened her legs for another man. But I wanted to get to know Fabulous better. People fascinated me. What was Fabulous’s story? She had a bittersweet kind of vibe. She wasn’t on sabbatical from sex like some of the other older women I’d met. I imagined someone was getting that on a regular.
A woman who hadn’t had sex in over a year tasted like a new car smelled, fresh. Not that Fabulous smelled bad. She just didn’t have that just-off-the-assembly-line odor. Neither did her Ferrari. She’d had those wheels for a minute.
I placed my hand on the doorknob. “Give me a few days to cool off,” I said, not wanting to put a time limit on it.
I was definitely keeping my commitment to Fabulous about our trip to Las Vegas. After the vacay, I’d stay with Charlotte, or let her go.
“I’ma clean your mess up, again,” I said, pointing to the glass in my kitchen area. “Seriously, this time, Charlotte. Think about what you want. I’ll do the same. When we—”
Charlotte yanked down my sweats, kneeled before me, then started licking and sucking my dick like it was an ice cream pop. Since Fabulous hadn’t gotten or jacked me off, I closed my front door.
This was why I had the hardest time letting Charlotte go. Her mouth never got tired. Thank God, I had seven hours before I had to be at work.
CHAPTER 23
Blake
Sitting in the chair at Sephora, in less than twenty-four hours I found myself back at Lenox Square Mall in the same clothes. In any other city shoppers might look at me sideways being scantily dressed this early in the morning. I wasn’t the only one. Hot pants that could dub as boy shorts hugged the butt implants of several women passing by. I knew all of them weren’t born with asses that big and round.
Handing my cell to Mercedes, I told her, “Take a few before pictures of me but don’t put them on social media.” I wanted Spencer to see me in person first.
“I’m not the one you need to tell that to, Mother,” Mercedes said.
The picture Sandara posted yesterday, the one Spencer had selfied of us, I was glad Mercedes made her take it down. I understood my youngest meant no harm. Initially I wasn’t concerned since I was in birthday mode.
Mercedes didn’t want corporate to have a reason to deny promoting me or for my clients to have a reason to file a complaint if they saw me with a much younger man. Once upon a time my personal life was private but social media changed that for a lot of career individuals.
Out of all my girls, Mercedes understood my struggle the most. Tired of proving she was worthy of being the chief operating officer and the mastermind behind her company’s success, she launched her own business, Crystal’s Clear Consulting.
“I can’t remember the last time I was this spoiled!” I had to admit. The way Spencer sexed me last night had a lot to do with my new attitude.
“You deserve it, “ Devereaux said.
Mercedes had video-journaled parts of this already amazing day. Why was it that one man made me feel like a queen and the other disgusted me?
“Mom, you look ten years younger already. Your new hair is growing on me,” Mercedes commented, giving me a lingering hug.
Marcus Darlin gave me a versatile style then taught me how to create several looks in a matter of minutes. Gathering it up top really made me appear my daughters’ ages. I felt like a schoolgirl when he put it in a ponytail on top of my head. Pulling it back, twisting it into sections, then wrapping one section over the other into a pretzel was more professional. Letting it hang below my shoulders the way it was now was my favorite.
Devereaux stretched her arms around both of us. “I love you guys. Mom, you’re stunning.” She whispered, “I’m glad you got some.”
&
nbsp; “I heard that,” Mercedes said. “You don’t have to announce it. We can all tell.”
I stared in the ceiling-to-floor mirror beside the makeup booth. My hair went from above my shoulders to halfway down my back. I didn’t think jet-black would complement my toffee complexion. Thought darker hair would age me but Marcus Darlin said to trust him. He was right. I’d worn a part on the side for years, now it was down the middle. My straight hair wasn’t flat. It was silky, fluffy, and fluttered whenever I moved my head. No one could tell where my hair ended or where my extensions were rooted.
Damn! I’m sexy as hell. Normally, I wouldn’t compliment myself but it was true. I hadn’t felt this beautiful in I couldn’t remember how long.
My cell rang. Mercedes answered, “We’re spoiling our mother today, Fortune. All day.”
Moving my cell from her ear, Mercedes switched to speaker. I could hear my ex-man pleading for me to come home but I wasn’t done admiring myself.
“Blake, where were you last night?” he shouted.
“She was at my house,” Devereaux lied, but she didn’t know she didn’t have to.
“Who else were you with, Blake? Who was the dude in the pic that was on Sandara’s Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter pages? Did he spend the night at your house too, Devereaux? I’m not stupid.”
Wow, all of a sudden Fortune was social media savvy. I laughed to myself.
“Yes, you are stupid, Fortune.” Soon as I’d said that I wished I hadn’t. But that was my honest thought. “Any man in his right mind would worship me. Hey, the makeup artist is standing here. I have to go.”
Mercedes ended the call.
I insisted, “If he calls back, nobody answer.”
Stepping away from the mirror, settling into the high chair, I was ready to let my face become a canvas. Soon as she was done, I wanted to go to Spencer’s place. That feel-good sensation his dick gave me danced inside my pussy.
I took my phone from Mercedes and texted, You want some company before you go to work?
Baby, You're the Best Page 9