by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome
“I’m going to put it in now. I want you to relax. If you don’t like it, we’ll stop. But I know you’re going to like it. I warmed you up with my fingers last night, and now I’m going to give it all to you and you’re going to take it. You’re going to take it and give it back to me.”
Millimeter by millimeter, I felt my rectum expand. There was pain intermingled with pleasure and I felt dizzy and weak from the sensation. Spock reached around to work my clit, heightening my pleasure, and before long he was at least halfway inside me, which was good enough for both of us, because we came soon after, him clutching me and muttering my name and that I was beautiful in my ear as we did.
As we lay there in the bed, spent, I wondered what it was about Spock that made me so willing to give every part of my body to him. Was I sexually addicted to him? Was it because I loved him? And more important, did he feel the same way for me, or was this just a fling? Sure, he’d tried to verbally reassure me, but didn’t all men say what they felt they had to in order to get what they wanted?
The sound of Spock’s BlackBerry vibrating snapped me out of my thoughts, as he untangled his arms and legs from my body and got up to retrieve it. He frowned as he read a text message.
“Don’t hate me,” he said.
“Don’t tell me,” I told him. “You have to go to work.”
“There’s a massive computer outage at the mayor’s office. Everything’s screwed up around there.”
“But can’t you just delegate the work?” I asked. I wanted to spend as much time with Spock as I could before I had to leave. Who knew what would happen between us once I was out of sight? No matter what our fate, I wanted to remain in the bliss of the present for as long as possible.
“Not if I want things to be done right, and not if I don’t want the mayor to tear me a new asshole.” We looked at each other and cracked up laughing at the new asshole reference.
“You’re a pervert,” I teased him.
“So are you.”
I spent most of the day lounging around, watching TV, something I never get a chance to do. Then I went into Spock’s home studio and messed around with equipment and listened to the stuff he’d been working on. While I was fooling around, experimenting with making beats, the phone in the studio rang. I should have ignored it, but I couldn’t. I looked at the caller ID. It read: JURIS PRESCOTT. I knew that name. It was his other ex-girlfriend, the one he had when we dated before. That motherfucker! Nothing had changed! I was going to kill him, but not until I handled one bit of important business. I did something I never did before, but that I should have done years ago when Spock’s little love triangle first became apparent. I picked up the phone and pressed the Talk button.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hello? Who is this?” Juris asked, surprised.
“This is Lucky, Juris,” I told her. There was silence. “Do you remember me?”
“Of course,” she said. “How could I forget? I just wasn’t expecting to hear your voice.”
An awkward silence.
“Can I speak to him?” she asked.
“No, you can’t,” I said.
Another silence.
“Why are you calling him, Juris?” I asked.
“Why are you there?” she asked back. She didn’t say it with a funky attitude; in fact, she seemed amused, which just pissed me off even more.
“You know what?” I asked. I was about to read her from A to Z when I realized that it wouldn’t solve anything. “Never mind,” I said and hung up.
This was stupid. I didn’t need to ask her why she was calling. I already knew why. He was still playing the both of us. I was getting the fuck out of there. If I didn’t by the time Spock came home, there would be a bloodbath. I had way too much going for me to ruin my life over some jerk. I’d just pulled on my clothes when my cell phone rang. It was Spock, of course.
“What do you want?” I barked into my cell phone.
“I just spoke to Juris.”
“So did I,” I said.
“Oh good,” he said, sounding relieved. “So then you know that nothing is going on.”
“No, I don’t know that,” I told him. “In fact, I’d say the opposite is true. I should have known better. You’re still the same lying motherfucker you were before. Nothing’s changed.”
“Songbird—” he said. I cut him off.
“Don’t Songbird me! Don’t call me that stupid name! Don’t say shit to me!” I screamed.
“Lucky, damn it, listen. I don’t want you to leave. Promise me that you won’t leave before I get there. I can’t make it home just yet, but I’ll be there around eight.” I looked at the clock. It was six. “Lucky, please? I hope you’re still there when I get there. We need to talk about this because it really isn’t what you think.”
I hung up my cell. Damn it! Was I going to stick around to hear whatever lame excuse he was going to offer? I was. But I wasn’t going to let him know that. I was going to make him wonder until he brought his ass home. But I knew that I was going to stay, even though I tried to convince myself a million ways that I shouldn’t. There was one thing that overruled all my arguments: I loved him. There was no escaping it. And it was because I loved him that I told myself that maybe there was a reasonable explanation for her call.
My bodyguard must have heard me screaming because he came busting into the room. I screamed in shock.
“You okay, Lucky?” he asked, looking around. I placed my hand over my chest, where I could feel my heart racing like Seabiscuit.
“Yeah,” I told him. “I was on the phone.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, are you sure everything is all right?”
“Yeah,” I told him.
“Do you want to stick around here?” the bodyguard asked. “We can go back to the Peninsula if you want. We can move your things, but since you’re leaving tomorrow, you don’t have to if you don’t want. I’ll make sure you have nothing to worry about.”
“No, that’s all right,” I said. “I have some unsettled business to take care of.”
I didn’t have any more work-related business to do for the remainder of my stay. I just wanted to hit Michigan Avenue for some shopping. But I checked in with Leslie while I waited for Spock to return. She pressed me for details of the night, which I kept to myself. And I didn’t tell her about the phone call from Juris. I just told her that I’d fill her in later, which I would undoubtedly do. I just hoped I wouldn’t be weaving another tale of woe.
Spock finally made it in, and my bodyguard and I both eyeballed him with sour looks on our faces. I excused the bodyguard, and Spock and I went into the kitchen. He fixed us a couple of cocktails and then we slipped outside to sit on his deck.
“Okay,” I said. “You’ve had enough time to come up with a good-ass story. So let’s hear it.”
“There’s no story. Juris and I are just friends. That’s all,” he said.
“Why was she calling you?” I asked him.
“Do you really want to know why?” he asked.
“Hell yeah!”
“She saw on some entertainment show the story about your ex-boyfriend pulling a knife on you. She wanted to know if I’d talked to you and if you were okay.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I said.
“For real. Juris and I are over. We never belonged together in the first place. Who do you think encouraged me to go for another chance with you?”
“Damn sure not her!” I said.
“Well, it’s true,” he said. “I wanted to move on after you left, but I couldn’t. Not with her, not really with anyone. I didn’t stay at home knitting, but no one could take your place. Nothing compares to you. Juris and I stayed friends and, well, I used to talk about you to her sometimes.”
“I wish I believed that.”
“Well, you should. Her husband even knows how I feel about you,” he said.
“Her husband?” I said, shocked.
“Yeah. She got married a few mo
nths ago. To my frat brother.”
“How the hell did that happen?” I asked.
“He always liked her. And when things fell apart—”
“When you got busted,” I said, correcting him.
“Whatever. He stepped to her, and she liked what he had to say. She told me she wasn’t going to wait for me to make up my mind. They’re expecting a baby.”
I felt stupid, but not really. I was just looking out for myself and for my heart. I was glad that I stuck around, though, because if I hadn’t over a misunderstanding, then I really would have felt stupid.
“I love you, Lucky. You’re the one for me. No one else,” he told me. I didn’t know what to say, which was cool, because he kept talking. “Call her back if you want to. You didn’t give her a chance to tell you. She was just surprised to hear you answer the phone. Talk to her husband. Look, I’m going to prove to you that I’m sorry I ever let you go. And I know that I wasn’t the man you needed me to be. But I can be now. Don’t give up on me yet. I really care about you and I need you in my life.”
I took a moment to look up at the night sky for stars, as if they could guide me, but I didn’t see any. The night sky was either too cloudy or maybe stars don’t shine as bright in Chicago. Since I couldn’t find what I was looking for, I went on ahead and said what was on my mind.
“I love you too. But I don’t want you to hurt me again. I will not be your fool again.”
“I’m not going to make a fool out of you.”
He said those words with what appeared to be earnest sincerity, and yet I still wasn’t sure.
“What am I going to do with you?” I asked.
“Just love me,” he said.
“Loving you is easy,” I told him. “Being in love with you is what’s hard.”
We sat there on the deck, holding hands, saying nothing. Although many questions lingered between us, we sat in peaceful silence. Time would be the answer.
Repeat Chorus
I can’t explain why I love him, why I can’t move forward without him. I guess I just like having him along for the ride, although I’m afraid that one day I’ll look over on the passenger’s side and it will be empty. But for now, he’s there, right where I need him to be. What the future holds for us, the uncertainty of it, all scares me. I still have issues with trusting Spock. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me and all that shit. Maybe one day the past will truly be buried and we can live happily ever after. But I’m happy right now, and that’s what counts.
Fade Out
MÉTA SMITH was born in Philadelphia and raised on the south side of Chicago. She is a graduate of Spelman College, where she received her bachelor’s degree in English. She is a DJ, a creative writing teacher, lecturer, and the author of two novels, The Rolexxx Club and Queen of Miami. She lives in Miami and Chicago with her son, Jordan.
Credits
Cover photograph by Nicolas Russell / Getty Images
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“Love B-Ball Style” copyright © 2007 by Joy King “These Are My Confessions” copyright © 2007 by Electa Rome Parks “Strapped” copyright © 2007 by Cheryl Robinson “Divas Need Love Too” copyright © by Méta Smith. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Mobipocket Reader May 2007 ISBN 978-0-06-145395-3
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (PO Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
55 Avenue Road, Suite 2900
Toronto, ON, M5R, 3L2, Canada
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.uk.harpercollinsebooks.com
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com
Table of Contents
Love B-Ball Style by Joy King
These Are My Confessions by Electa Rome Parks
Strapped by Cheryl Robinson
Divas Need Love Too by Méta Smith 251
Credits
Cover
Copyright
About the Publisher