My Best Friend and My Man

by Cydney Rax

  Veron stands up. “I’m sorry, what? What was that? How would you like it if I was mentioning other men around you?”

  “Hey, calm down. I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Well, don’t, then. It hurts.” She sits back down.

  “I’m sorry, Veron.” We sit quietly for a few minutes, and even though I want to break the silence, I resist the pressure to talk. I take her hand in mine and play with it for a moment. Her hands are warm. Within minutes, we resume kissing, and this time, she initiates.

  Her landline rings but she doesn’t get up.

  Her talking caller ID machine says, “Call from Landers Ferris. Call from Landers Ferris.”

  Amused, I watch her hop up and run to her answering machine, which is sitting on top of the breakfast bar between the kitchen and the dining room. She fumbles around with the machine, frantically pressing on buttons, but a male voice screams out.

  “Hey, baby girl, it’s me. You get that money I sent you?”

  “What?” she shrieks. “Aw man, I don’t believe him.”

  She lowers the volume and looks like she wants to come back and sit next to me but changes her mind.

  “Who was that?” I demand.

  “You’re kidding, right?” She laughs in amazement.

  “No, I’m not. I need to know what I’m dealing with. Is that a husband?”

  “Seaphes, don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s nobody. Just a friend.”

  “A nobody friend that gives you money.”

  She looks apologetic but then straightens her shoulders and hardens her face. Her voice changes. “I can’t help it if men want to pamper me.”

  I can’t believe it. This girl really is just like her no-good friend. I thought she was different. “I think I’ve seen, and heard, enough.” I stand up. “It’s been good.”

  “C’mon, Seaphes, please don’t do this.”

  “I just want you to be honest with me.”

  “Okay, then, you be honest with me, too.”

  “I have been.”

  “Can you honestly say that?” Her voice chokes with pain. This night is getting stranger by the moment.

  “Veron, if you need to say something, just say it.”

  “Have you ever slept with Ursula?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen you hugging on her at work, and I’ve heard about what you do with her from others.”

  “You believe everything you hear?”

  “Not really. But I do believe what I see.”

  “And you’re telling me you’ve seen me sleep with Ursula?”

  She pouts. “I catch on to body language. And it amazes me that you can be all over her yet deny that you are attracted to her. That’s just plain wrong.”

  “Things aren’t always the way they appear.”

  “And sometimes they are. I’m inclined to go with my gut on this one.”

  There’s no changing her mind; she’s made that clear. And with that dude calling and what she said about men and money…I’m done. “Okay,” I tell her, throwing up my hands. “I’m out.”

  I leave Veron’s place and stop by Demetria’s.

  “I tried to warn you, but you don’t listen to me,” Demetria says after I finish telling her what happened. It’s 11 p.m., later than I realized, and I should be with my nephew, since they’re rolling out tomorrow to drive to San Antonio. But obviously I need some help on this.

  Is it my imagination, or did Demetria look envious when I confessed to her that Veron and I kissed for the first time?

  “Seaphes, I told you she ain’t used to prime beef. She has messed around with so many knuckleheads that I’m scared her insecurities might run you away. But I know your type and I think you can handle it. But you have to quit messing up like you’ve been doing. She really is pissed at you because she busted you and Ursula.”

  I feel nauseous at her words but manage to sip my drink and watch her confidently stride around her living room, lighting a match and holding it against the wicks of several vanilla and cinnamon candles. When she’s finished, she casually combs her fingers through her thick hair as if she doesn’t give a damn about anything.

  “Okay, so you were saying that you give in. Does that mean you’re ready to do what I tell you?”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. But I want to ask you some things about Veron, so I can decide what approach I need to take.” I look around, uncomfortable for a second. “So she’s mad at me, huh?”

  “Extremely.”

  “You think she’d be okay with me being over here?”

  “Actually, she doesn’t mind at all, because she realizes I’ve got to help her out, filter info for her.”

  “If you say so,” I murmur.

  “I know so.”

  “Okay. So. Can you tell me who this Ferris dude is?”

  Eyes widened, she grins like she’s enjoying herself. “Did he come by or something?”

  “Who is he?”

  “Ferris is the impetus. He caused Veron to figure out what she really wants in life.”

  “So he’s someone who treated her bad?”

  “I guess you have him to thank for her being open to a man like you.”

  I laugh at the irony. “I guess I’m a lucky guy that Ferris has done whatever he’s done to her.”

  “He’s done more to her than you could ever imagine,” she says, a mischievous look in her eyes.

  “Such as?” I ask leaning in.

  “You know, dog—oh, I shouldn’t be telling you all this. It feels strange.”

  “You’re a tease, you know that?”

  “You know you unfairly judged me. Teases are attention whores. Do I look like the type of woman who’s desperate for attention?”

  “To be honest, I don’t give a lot of thought about how you look.”

  “Say what?” she asks, insulted. “Are you implying that I’m ugly?”

  “Look, Ms. Demetria Sparks. I wasn’t trying to imply that you are unattractive. And since you’re forcing me to say it, you are one gorgeous woman. But you know it, and that’s half the problem.”

  “And what is the rest of my problem?”

  “You ready to hear truth? I think you’re used to men falling all over you, and if they don’t, for some reason you get bent. You can’t deal. The controlling part of you emerges.”

  “Okay.” She pouts and twists a chunk of her hair into a circle. “I don’t know that I totally agree with you, but thanks for explaining yourself. I guess I can act mature and officially forgive you.”

  “So you’re not mad at me anymore? We’re cool again?”

  “Well, Seaphes, I don’t allow people I don’t like in my home.”

  The tone of her voice is serious. She refills my glass. Then she drops to her knees, sitting next to my feet. She grabs one of my legs and props it on the glass coffee table. Removing each shoe, she asks, “That feel better?”

  I nod, “It’s alright, I guess.”

  She shakes her head. “See, now if Veron were me, and you were sitting next to her like you are with me, this is what I’d tell her to do.” Looking into my eyes, she takes my foot in her hand and starts rubbing one slender finger against the underside. “I’m a master at caressing feet,” she tells me. I want to tell her to stop, but I let her keep going. I tell myself it’s just to see what else she’s going to do, how far she’s going to go.

  “Pretend like I’m Veron.” She smiles at me.

  “Uh, sorry, but I can’t do that,” I apologize. “You and she are total opposites.”

  “Look, Seaphes,” she says, exasperated. “Don’t make things so difficult.”

  I just shrug.

  “Stay with me.” She clears her throat and talks in a soft, sweet voice. “Oh, Seaphes, Demetria told me everything I need to do to capture the attention of a man like you. Do you think she’s done a good job so far?”

  “Nope.”

  Demetria drops my foot. “You’re such an ass.”

  �
��Does that mean you’ve got to stop massaging my foot?”

  She rolls her eyes and sighs, gesturing at me with her finger.

  “You’re asking me to come closer?” I ask. “Veron?”

  “Yes, Seaphes, come closer to Veron.”

  I shrug and move in closer. She puts her arms around my neck until we’re cheek to cheek. Her soft skin is warm, and against my wishes, I feel something stirring down below. We’re both silent, listening to each other breathe.

  “Demetria.”

  “You mean Veron.”

  “Thing is, you’re not Veron. You’re Demetria.”

  “Well, yeah, we’re just playing.”

  “Are you?”

  “Damn, forget it. Why do I even go through all this?” She moves off me, glaring with an icy stare. “I’m telling you what I’m doing. Why I’m doing it.”

  “I’m not so sure you are.”

  “Oh, wait. I forgot, for some odd reason you think every woman is in love with you.”

  “Not every woman,” I say solemnly.

  She stares at me, and by the look on her face I know I’m about to get thrown out of the woman’s house for the second time in a week. I cannot believe this.

  “Why are you laughing?” she asks, staring at me. “What’s so funny, huh? You’re something else, Seaphes.”

  “Why, thank you. Now, I do gotta be going.”

  She looks up at me, genuinely sad and hurt. This is a girl who is not used to a man leaving her house of his own free will, and she looks embarrassed. “Listen,” I say, getting up from the couch and draining the last remnants of my drink. “You ain’t gotta worry about thinking that you’re unattractive or anything like that.”

  “If what you’re saying is true, prove it to me.”

  “How can I prove it?”

  “Stay with me tonight.”

  —21—

  DEMETRIA

  “Listen, woman. I’ll stay here if you need me to, but it’s just ’cause I’m worried about you.” Seaphes follows me back into the living room, and I hope to hell he can’t see me smirking.

  “I’ll be right back, okay?” I tell him. My voice sounds shrill.

  Damn, why did I say that? I know I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t stop it. What’s the real reason that he’s staying? Is it really because he’s worried, or does he want me like I want him? I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t do this, but it’s hard when you’ve been through what I’ve been through.

  I go to my main hallway and open a closet door. I hesitate for a few seconds, fighting with myself, but then reach up and pull out two goose-filled comforters and several throw pillows.

  When I return to the living room, Seaphes has removed his shoes and socks and is running his hands over a two-inch stack of magazines that are neatly lying in a wooden rack. “Vogue, Vanity Fair, Cosmo, Hype Hair, Essence, Glamour, Ebony, and O,” he says, sounding skeptical.

  “What about them? I’m big on reading and keeping empowered with knowledge.”

  “So would you say you are a product of the advice of these magazines?”

  “Partially. Some of what I’ve become is through hard life experiences, or other women I’ve observed. Basically I know enough to use what works for me, and the rest I don’t worry about.”

  “Ah ha.”

  “Seaphes, women have the burden of always being on top of their game. I gotta do what I gotta do.”

  “Is that why I’m here?”

  “I’m hoping you’re here…because you want to be.” I feel weird trying so hard to get this man to notice me, but I can’t help myself. I guess we always want what we don’t have.

  “Okay,” he says. He walks up to me and helps me spread one of the comforters on the couch facing my HDTV, which I barely watch. I continue talking about myself for a few seconds, but then I switch gears.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  “What? Okay with sleeping in here while you comfortably rest in your big ole bed?”

  “How you know how big my bed is?”

  “I don’t. A wild guess, knowing your type.”

  Seaphes hesitates for a few seconds, then walks up to me and places his arms around me, giving me a hug that doesn’t quite allow him to press himself against my titties and hold me tight. It feels nice, and I forget all about being good.

  “Let’s act like I’m Veron,” I nervously whisper into his ear, trying to take his hand in mine and attempting to lead him into the bedroom.

  “I can’t do that, Demetria.” He lets go of my hand. “Like it or not, I’m pursuing Veron, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

  I can’t help myself. “But she doesn’t even want you, Seaphes. I didn’t want to tell you, but Veron thinks you’re bad news and sleeping with Ursula, and anyway she got Ferris calling her all the time.” His face is falling. I am awful, but I just can’t help but give in to my throbbing pussy. All I can think of right now is what’s gonna get this man in my bed. “She told me you don’t have a chance. She’s just keeping you around to watch you squirm.”

  “That…that doesn’t sound like Veron.” He sits down on my couch, head in hands.

  “No? Well, who knows her better, you or me?” I sit next to him, run my fingers over his scalp, down his neck. “Didn’t you hear that phone call from Ferris earlier tonight? He’s been giving her money to keep her on lock.”

  We sit in silence for a minute, me playing with his ears. He’s looking hurt, then mad…but then he starts paying attention to what I’m doing. I kiss his neck.

  “What do your magazines say about being attracted to a man like me?”

  “Uh, actually I’ve never really met a man like you.”

  “Awww, c’mon.” He groans loudly. “According to you, you’ve had lots of experience.”

  “True that, but you’re kinda different.”

  “How so?”

  “You just…I mean, you never asked me out, never sought me out, even though we’ve been working in the same building for the longest time.”

  “Huh. Well, I don’t know why I didn’t. That hurt your feelings?”

  I nod. “It made me feel invisible. Undesirable. I am not used to feeling like that.”

  “What are you used to?”

  I take both of Seaphes’s hands and maneuver them until they’re gently lying on top of my breasts. He closes his eyes, looking like he’s in pain, but it passes. Staring at him, I hope to God that he feels me and doesn’t shut down what I hope to do to him. I take one of his index fingers and begin circling it around my hardened nipple. I look down at my shirt then back up at him. I love how quiet it is right now; it adds to the anticipation. I let go of his finger and smile when he continues circling and caressing my nipple on his own. He takes his other hand and massages my other breast. Even though I still have on my blouse, his hands feel electric, and my eyelids start to flutter.

  “Are you used to this?” He begins to slowly unbutton my blouse, removing it so that my bra is exposed. He unfastens it from the front, and my breasts bounce out. I want to scream when his fingers finally make contact with my nipples. He strokes the hardness over and over, making them even more rigid, and it feels so good that I begin whimpering.

  “Are you used to that?” he whispers.

  I know it’s wrong, but I place my hands around his head and push his mouth toward my breast. He opens his mouth, sticks out his long tongue, and begins licking me like a thirsty cat. His teeth gently tug at my nipple, then he hungrily sucks on it with his warm mouth. I squirm, moving my hips, and groan, and squeeze his head tight. “Are you used to that?” he moans.

  I position myself so that I am lying on the floor. He falls down with me, his teeth never letting go of my breasts. I reach down to unzip, then begin pulling my blue jeans down my legs. He stops long enough to help me pull them all the way off, then resumes licking and sucking my breasts, rubbing my thighs at the same time.

  I’m completely naked, and he still has all his clothes on,
which is such a turn-on…for him, too, I can tell. The smell of sex and desire is strong. I cross my legs, afraid that the aroma mixed with my throbbing wetness will cause me to orgasm before his big, hard dick is ever inside me.

  “Demetria,” he whispers, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

  “That’s what I’m used to,” I moan, tears suddenly gushing out of me like water from a running faucet.

  He presses his lips against mine, his whiskers tickling my top lip, and we hungrily explore each other’s mouths. His hot hands continue caressing me: my legs, ankles, ass, the sides of my breasts, my neck, nose, cheeks, and eyelids. I love it when a man kisses my eyelids. It feels like I’m relinquishing my power, yet maintaining it, too.

  I reach for his body, and he stops touching me so he can remove his own shirt and pants. I press my nose against the strength of his neck. He smells like soap. Part of my mind is only thinking about how I’m getting satisfied, but there is a small part that’s wondering how the heck I let myself go this far with this man. I want to stop, but I can’t. I can’t stop until the need is fulfilled, the need to be awash in total pleasure with another person, someone who wants me, our bodies surrendering to the euphoria. Seaphes gets his pants off and maneuvers himself above me, ready to enter my warm wetness.

  But then he says, bewildered, “I can’t believe we’re about to do this.”

  “Let’s stop talking about it and just do it,” I complain, reaching for his neck.

  “Damn, I dunno, Demetria…I feel…”

  My phone starts ringing, loud and close to my head.

  “Fuck,” I say, sitting up. I glance at the caller ID. “I need to get this,” I apologize to Seaphes.

  I cover my shoulders with my blouse and retreat to the privacy of my bedroom. “Hello?” I say, trying to maintain normal breathing.

  “Hey, girl, I’m so sorry that I called you this late, but I can’t sleep. I’m so worried.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Seaphes came over and at first things were good. But then I began to question him, and we had words and he got upset and abruptly left. I hate when that happens, Demetria, but I do not want to keep repeating the same mistakes with guys. So I let him go, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me, because I’m a strong woman who has a life, like the book says, yada, yada…but you don’t know how bad I wanted to go after him. And now I want to call him, I want to make sure he’s feeling me as much as I’m feeling him and tell him that I don’t want my stupid mistakes to come between us.”