Full Figured 8

by Skyy

  Loyal walked in and stood directly in front of me. I knew he must have freshly sprayed cologne on as his familiar scent hit me the moment I opened the door. He looked good, so good I had to shake my head to stop myself from dreaming about more.

  “Hey.” His voice echoed through my hallway.

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t figure out what I actually wanted to say.

  “Can we?” Loyal motioned to art space. I nodded my head as I followed him.

  The space was very different. All of the art was gone and there was just a bare table where the sculpture used to sit. I sat on the edge of my couch as Loyal walked around the room.

  “Man, I can’t believe everything is gone. I guess it’s time for you to fill it with some new work.”

  Loyal’s smile fell on my very straight face. I didn’t need the pleasantries. I folded my arms and waited to hear what he was going to say next.

  “I got you something.” Loyal held up the paper gift bag.

  He walked over and handed me the gift. A piece of me didn’t want to open it, but the curious side overrode it. I pulled a little statue out of the bag. It was a trophy. I read the plaque. It said BEST ARTIST IN THE WORLD. The ice was trying to melt. I put the trophy on the couch and folded my arms again.

  “So it’s like that?” Loyal nodded his head.

  “How is it supposed to be, Loyal? You really think you can walk in here and act like there isn’t anything wrong? Get the fuck outta here with that shit!”

  “What is wrong, Rayne? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  I jumped up. “You have the nerve to show up here after you brought that chick to my fucking gallery opening. My most important night ever and you tried to ruin it for me.”

  “Whoa. First off I didn’t bring her; she just happened to show up when I did. Second even if I did it doesn’t matter; we have gone over this. I told you the business before you got—”

  I threw my hand up to his face. “Stop! Before you fix your mouth to say what you are about to say let me correct you. Yes, you have told me from jump what the business is and I have always respected that. But you also said you are my friend. And as my friend you shouldn’t want to do anything that you know will hurt me. I told you how I felt about that girl. You knew from when I promised you the damn ticket. But you walk in with her and spend the whole fucking night with her. As the guy I fuck with, no, you didn’t have to care, but as my friend you should have!”

  I was fuming. I wanted to throw something at him to make him feel the pain I felt in that moment. I wanted to see that he cared in his face but I didn’t see a trace of remorse. He stood there just shaking his head.

  “I told you we never should have slept together. I told you that you were going to fall for me.”

  I stared at the man who I’d let into my life so easily. He didn’t look as shiny and perfect as he usually looked to me. I wanted to laugh but there wasn’t anything funny about the situation.

  “You are so missing the point.” I shook my head.

  “No, you are. I told you what happens when I fuck someone. I told you that you were going to fall and I even told you I would never be your man. Yet here we are arguing like a damn couple when I don’t owe you shit. Did you see me acting crazy when you were hugged up with ol’ dude at the exhibit? I didn’t even care when that Shazza Zulu–looking dude was at your house. Why? Because you don’t owe me shit and I’m not jealous.”

  “Shazza Zulu?”

  “Yeah, you know Shazza who dated Freddie on A Different World.”

  I couldn’t help it. We both erupted into laugher at his statement. I felt the ice breaking. It was the little things that made me like him. In a moment of pure heated intensity he still found a way to make me laugh. But just as usual once the laugher died down I was faced with the reality of the situation.

  “Loyal, you are right about one thing: I did foolishly fall for you. That is something I can’t take back even if I wanted to. But just so you know, it was never the dick that caused me to fall. No, sir, I was fucked from the moment you walked into my office.”

  I sat back down on the side of the couch. I took a deep breath. The truth was I was in love with the man standing a few feet away from me and there was nothing that I could do about it. I stared at a blank canvas sitting on the ground behind Loyal.

  “The mistake I made was not sleeping with you. The mistake I made was believing that you actually valued me as a friend. The sex stuff was secondary to the fact that I thought I had someone who cared about me as a person and as a friend. If that is the way you treat your friends, your enemies are fucked.”

  Loyal took a step back. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. I knew he could see it in my face that I was done. There was nothing he could say or do that would change the fact that I would never look at him in the same light I used to. I glanced at a blank canvas on the floor behind him.

  “My life was just like that before I met you.” I pointed at the blank canvas. “I was just here, blank. That’s why I let you in so easy. I was ready for some color in my life and you provided that for me. I foolishly thought I had someone who not only I could experience some new things with but who would be there for me as a friend. Because in the end I never would have been able to allow you to do the things you have done to me if I didn’t completely trust you.”

  I sighed. All things were coming into perspective for me.

  “But you know what, no matter how much color you provided, in the end it’s just a bunch of splatter on a canvas. You and me never made real art,” I said as I put the trophy back in the bag he gave it to me in.

  “Yeah, but some of the most popular paintings in the world are just splashes of paint and scribble on a canvas. I think we make great art together. Just like in art it’s all in the eye of the person who is looking at it.”

  I looked up to see a semi smile on Loyal’s face. He walked up to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Rayne, I apologize if you felt that I hurt you at the event. That wasn’t my intention.” Loyal massaged my shoulders with his big hands. His touch sent chills down my spine. “I do value you as a friend and I don’t want you to think that I don’t. I do love you, Rayne. I got nothing but love for my beautiful artist.”

  “Yeah, well having love for me is not going to change what you did. I will never look at you the same, Loyal. There’s no fixing that.”

  Loyal shook his head. “I disagree. I’m sorry, Rayne, but just like I said in the beginning you aren’t going anywhere. I refuse to let you. You are my friend and I’m not willing to lose you as a friend, no matter what you say right now.”

  I stood up. “You can’t control that.” I stood still as he walked in front of me.

  “I can control it, because I’m not going to allow you to leave my life. I might have some major making up to do, but in the end I’m not letting you go.”

  Loyal put both of his hands on each side of my face, pulling me close to him. I closed my eyes as his lips pressed against mine. I didn’t know why I was allowing it, but I couldn’t pull away.

  It was as though our whole relationship was flashing through my mind during that kiss. I never should have let him in but I did. He held a piece of me that I wanted to let go of, but the truth was no matter what my mouth said, I still wanted him there.

  I felt my hands rise as they wrapped around Loyal’s muscular frame. I held him tight, hoping to feel something that would let me know that the words he was speaking were true. I wanted to believe him, but in my mind I knew it was bullshit. He would say whatever he needed to say to keep me. I just didn’t understand why. I forced my arms to let go, pushing my body away from his.

  “Why? Why are you so determined to keep me around when you have Kelis and the rest of your women?”

  Loyal’s eyes gleaming down on me made my body tense up. I prepared myself for whatever amazing line he was going to come up with. I knew it was going to be poetic, something to make me go weak in the knees whenever I thought about it
again. He was going to put down his best pimpin’ in this moment, simply because he knew it was the only way he was going to keep me in the end.

  “You really want to know why?” Loyal didn’t take his eyes off of me.

  I nodded my head, prepared for the ultimate revelation.

  Loyal took a step back. He looked at me up and down.

  “Because,” Loyal said.

  I was confused. Where was the grand reason? “What do you mean because?”

  “Because, Rayne. That is the reason. I want you in my life because I do. There isn’t anything bigger than that. Me wanting you here is reason enough.”

  I stood there wondering what next. Did I accept his simple answer or did I tell him to hit the road? My eyes searched for more in his eyes but there wasn’t. It was really that simple. The truth was Loyal would never be loyal to me, but he for some reason wanted to keep me in his life. He made me feel unlike anyone had ever made me feel before. The bad thing was it was either overwhelmingly wonderful, or horrible. There was no middle ground.

  “Rayne,” Loyal breathed my name. I loved the way it sounded.

  He breathed my name again, and again until I finally answered.

  “Do you want me to leave?” His raspy voice was haunting me.

  “I want you to say something more than what you said. Because ... That’s not a reason.”

  “Rayne.” Loyal put his hands back on my face. I wanted to cry but the tears just wouldn’t form. “Rayne.”

  No words, no tears. I was numb and there was nothing that I could say to get him to give me a better answer.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  Loyal’s words filled my mind. The answer should have been simple. He not only hadn’t given me anything that I could really work with but in the end I knew I would never get a better answer. On the other hand just having his hands on my face made my flesh crave him more.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know because I—”

  “Rayne.” Loyal pulled me closer. He wrapped his hands around my body planting one single kiss on the right side of my neck. I could feel his breath on the top of my ear. “For once in your life stop overanalyzing everything and tell me, with just the first word that pops in your mind, do you want me to leave?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. There was only thing that came to mind.

  My head hit my pillow. Loyal’s tongue devoured my breasts as he held them with his usual forceful touch. I closed my eyes as he entered me. The pleasurable pain took over my body, filling any holes that were left empty from the past weekend.

  I kept my eyes closed as he fucked me hard. I could hear the voices of Pashun and Kevin in my head. I knew it was wrong, and I knew I deserved something more than what he was giving me. But I knew that in that moment I would rather have him than go back to having nothing at all. ’Cause in the end, any color on a canvas is better than no color at all.

  About the Author

  Skyy is a 27-year-old author, screenwriter, and playwright and self proclaimed weirdo from Memphis, TN. Her first novel, Choices was originally released in 2007 and quickly gained popularity both within the gay and lesbian community and within the urban fiction community. The highly anticipated sequel, Consequences, was released in 2009 and rocketed to the top 10 lesbian bestsellers list on Amazon.com and at independent bookstores across the country. Skyy and her books were featured on the nationally syndicated radio show, The Michael Baisden Show. In Skyy’s spare time she enjoys traveling, watching and spending a crazy amount of money on DVDS, and chatting with fans on online.

  Contact Skyy

  www.simplyskyy.com

  skyy@simplyskyy.com

  www.facebook.com/simplyskyy

  www.twitter.com/simplyskyy

  You Only Live Once

  by Treasure Hernandez

  Chapter 1

  “Come on, ladies. Both of my girls cannot back out on me,” Dakota said as she sat at a downtown Flint, Michigan restaurant looking over the lunch menu with her besties, Shyla and Trice. “I would have never even agreed to represent my company at that stupid insurance conference if I had known you two were going to bail out on me. I only agreed to do it because I figured I could turn a paid, out-of-town business trip into a fun three nights and four days of pleasure with my girlfriends.”

  Shyla slightly lowered her menu that had been covering her entire face. It was now low enough just to where her eyes could be seen. She looked over the menu at Dakota. “Girl, please. Trice and I would have fun. You, missy, would be all day in seminars, meetings, and workshops.”

  “Yeah, but afterward I could kick it with you two,” Dakota said.

  “No, afterward you will complain about how tired you are from being in seminars all day, take you a shower, order room service, and climb into bed and cuddle up to some reality show all night while Trice and I kick it.” Shyla sucked her teeth and went back to skimming her menu.

  “Now you know that is not true. I would never have you guys go all the way out to Vegas and not kick it and have fun with y’all.”

  Trice, their other partner in crime, chimed in. “Dakota Marie Smith, please. We’ve all been friends for what, six, seven years? We know what fun means to you. And it’s not what it means to us.” She pointed to herself and Shyla. “Ya heard?” She chuckled, then directed her next comment to Shyla. “I don’t even know why we allowed Little Bo Peep in our clique in the first place. We are all clearly not cut from the same cloth.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Dakota tried not to snap, but clearly her question was laced with a snappy undertone.

  “Slow your roll, girlfriend.” Trice put her hand up. “Pump your breaks. All I’m saying is that”—she looked Dakota up and down—“you’re a black girl named Dakota. That don’t even sound like fun.”

  Shyla burst out laughing. She continued to laugh until Dakota sharply turned her head in her direction and shot her an evil look.

  “I can’t help it that my name is Dakota,” she replied. “Blame it on my white mother. She’s the one who named me.”

  “Oh, but your father could have stepped in at any minute and used his black card to put a stop to that nonsense,” Shyla said as she and Trice laughed and high-fived.

  “You know what?” Dakota said in a controlled soft, uppity-like voice. “Fuck you, and fuck you.” She turned her attention back to her menu and then threw in, “And, consider yourselves lucky that that was in my white girl voice.”

  Trice play-hit Dakota on the shoulder and they all laughed. The women looked over their menus for a couple more minutes until their waiter came and took their orders.

  While they waited for their food to come out, Dakota decided to use the time to try to convince her girls to join her on her trip to Las Vegas. Her company was paying both Dakota’s hotel and airfare, so there would be no out-of-pocket expense on her part. Even the food and transportation expenses during her stay in Vegas could be expensed.

  “All you guys have to do is pay your airfare,” Dakota reasoned. “The hotel is paid for by the company. It’s a room at the Rio. I went online and checked it out and that hotel is PP: plush and posh. I have a double room and the couch has a pullout bed. We can even upgrade to a two-bedroom suite if you guys want and split the difference three ways. Come on,” Dakota whined.

  “I promise you, D, if my vacation time had been approved, I’d be there; you know that, ma,” Trice said. “But one of the members of my team beat me to the punch. She literally put in her vacation time two days before I requested mine. She’s off that entire week and my team leader needs me, so mine wasn’t approved. You know darn well you would not have to ask me twice to join you in Vegas otherwise. Come on, now. Vegas. Sin City. What goes on in Vegas stays in Vegas. Puhleaze! I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

  “Right,” Shyla agreed. “And if I even had the vacation time, I would have taken the days off to join you in Vegas in a heartbeat. When
I told you I would go with you, I had no idea I’d used up all my vacation time. A chick only has one day left.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised you only have one vacation day left. I’m surprised you have any.” Trice rolled her eyes. “Every time you meet some guy at the club, you spend the entire night talking to him until last call. Somehow you end up talking until the wee hours of the morning at the Waffle House, getting to know him because he could be the one.”

  Dakota chuckled at Trice’s sarcasm and then listened as Trice continued.

  “The next morning you’re too damn tired to go to work so you call off; and if Mr. The One is lucky, you spend that day up under his ass,” Trice said all in one breath. “So yeah, I can see why you are out of vacation days.”

  Shyla just looked at Trice for a second before saying, “Fuck you. And that was in my hood voice.”

  Again, the women shared a laugh.

  “Y’all are right.” Dakota figured it was fine time to agree with her girls on at least one thing after seeing the way those two get turnt up. “I have no idea how I got caught up with you two. We are not even made up from the same kind of pattern, let alone the same cloth. Y’all broads are crazy.”

  “See, ya just boring. You can’t even cuss us out right,” Trice said.

  Shyla agreed. “That’s the white girl in her, though. ’Cause, see, a one hundred percent black girl would have said, ‘Y’all bitches are crazy,’” Shyla said.

  “I disagree,” Dakota begged to differ. “Oprah is one hundred percent black and she does not use the word bitch outside of her acting role in The Butler.” Dakota was dead serious.

  “Calm down, Pooh Bear, you know I was just joking,” Shyla said.

  By now, both Trice and Shyla had been friends with Dakota long enough to know that it took only two things to set their friend off and to get her up on her soapbox. One was taking a stab at her mixed heritage and the other was her weight. Ironically, the girls had given Dakota the nickname of Pooh Bear because they said her skin complexion, her chubby figure, and her soft, lovable tone and calm demeanor reminded them so much of the Disney character. Since their pet name for her was all in love, and Dakota knew her girls loved her and would never try to take advantage of her sensitive areas, the name Pooh Bear didn’t bother her at all. As a matter of fact, she loved the term of endearment her girls had given her. But let anyone else call her to the carpet with that ol’ “What are you?” or “What are you mixed with?” crap, or even that “You have such a pretty face,” and it was on and popping.