Scandals
Page 11
“Oooh.”
“You like that?”
“Yes,” I purred.“That feels wonderful.” That was an understatement.
He slowly pulled his finger out and my eyes slid open. And that was when I saw him do what I never could get Anthony’s tired ass to do—he lowered his mouth to my kitty cat. I kid you not, I had an out-of-body experience. I don’t know where I was floating to, but it had to be somewhere close to heaven. His tongue found my clit and I about jumped off the couch, it felt so good. He licked and sucked and slipped his finger inside again and found my G-spot and I was crying out his name.
“Tremayne ... baby ... yes ... YES!”
“That’s it. Come for me.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. As soon as he applied a little pressure to my clit, I came so hard I think I threw my back out. He waited until my breathing slowed before he lifted me into his arms and carried me back to his bedroom. I was more than ready for whatever he had in store.
He settled me at the center of the bed and I watched with half-lidded eyes as he lowered his pants and his boxers. His dick wasn’t small by any means, but he had nothing close to Anthony’s big dick. I was starting to think maybe that was a good thing, considering I always felt like he was ripping my insides out.
I watched as Tremayne rolled a condom on, then walked over to the bed and moved between my thighs. “Baby, wrap your legs around me.”
I followed his lead and within seconds he slipped inside and was moving at a steady rhythm. I never knew sex could feel that good. He grabbed onto my hips and pumped deeper. I opened my eyes and found him staring down at me. All I could do was breathe hard and stare back.
“You like me being inside you?”
Like was a fucking understatement. I loved what he was doing, and the way he made me feel—I couldn’t even begin to put it into words because there were none, except that Anthony had fallen short all those years in the pleasure department.
“Monica, look down. I want you to watch my dick slide in and out of your pussy.”
I raised up on my elbows and looked down between us. Oh. My. Goodness. I was wet and my juices were coating his chocolate goodness. Tremayne reached down between us and started playing with my clit again, and that’s all it took.
“I’m ... finna ... come ... again. Aaawgh!” I cried. And no sooner was I done than he came right behind me. We lay there for a while holding each other before Tremayne got up, warmed our plates, and carried them into the bedroom. Like I said, he was thoughtful like that.
“I was hoping we could catch a movie tonight.”
He looked so happy I hated what I was about to tell him. “I’ve gotta work tonight.”
“Oh damn, I forgot about that. Maybe I can drop by the hospital on your break and bring you an early breakfast or something.”
I gazed down at my plate, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Since I only work six hours, I only get a fifteen-minute break. Not long enough to do anything but swallow down a sandwich and get back to my desk.”
“Okay, what about tomorrow?”
This time I looked up at him. “You know I work Saturday nights.” I don’t know why we went through this every weekend. I hadn’t planned on working, but since Anthony was going to have the girls, I might as well go in and make some money. That way I could take off next Saturday.
Tremayne rubbed a hand across his head and grew quiet as he finished his food. I felt so guilty that I had to say something.
“Listen ... as soon as I graduate I’ll have more time. I’m sorry, but I gotta work.”
He nodded and looked sincere. “I understand. It’s just I wanna take my woman out on the weekends and show her off.”
I grinned, loving the way he called me his woman. “Eighteen more weeks and it will all be over.”
I thought about Anthony asking about my job. Graduation couldn’t come soon enough.
16
Robin
I was up watching reruns of The Bernie Mac Show when Trey called.
“I thought you were bringing Kyle home at noon.” Can you believe? It’d been six weeks and I already considered my casa his casa. Like I said, the boy had grown on me. I didn’t know how he managed to wiggle his way into my heart, but I wished I knew because I could have packaged that shit and made a fortune.
“I was on my way, but I had an idea I wanna run by you first,” Trey began in that panty-dropping voice of his. “I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”
“On a date?”
“Yeah, a date. Just you and me ... no Kyle.” I could hear the smile in his voice. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the big shit-eating grin on mine.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone out on a real bona fide date. I let most men take me out because they had already paid for the evening or because I was determined to take everything they had in their wallet before the night was over, but a date with a man who so far didn’t seem to have a hidden agenda—now, that was new for me. “Who’s gonna watch Kyle?”
“My sister will.”
Sundays were my open invitation night. I had sponsors I met on the regular at hotels around the city for a little romp in the sack. I had one regular, an overweight white guy who only wanted to watch me play with sex toys while he sat in a nearby chair and beat his meat. That was the easiest money, and then there were the clients who just simply wanted to fuck. My number one rule was I brought my own condoms and I always picked the hotel. I was supposed to meet Deke, one of my regulars, around nine for a little foreplay, but to hell with that. I could get up with him tomorrow or the day after. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”
As soon as I got dressed I headed to Dillard’s at Shore Pump Mall and found something to wear. Trey hadn’t said where we were going and I wasn’t about to call and ask. I figured jeans were always the safest way to go.
I bought a pair of bad black BCBG pumps and paired that with skinny jeans and a white blouse that plunged in the front and back. Honey had called looking for me, so I told her to come and help me accessorize my gear.
We had barely been in Macy’s five minutes before she asked, “So who’s this dude?” Curiosity was written all over her face.
I made sure I focused on the jewelry at the counter and played it nonchalant with Honey. She’s my girl and all, but she has a tendency to ask too many damn questions about my personal life, and some things I just believe in keeping private. “A friend of a friend. No big deal.”
I guess my answer wasn’t good enough because she sputtered with laughter. “Bitch, he’s gotta be something if you out buying shit to look good for him.”
“Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I always look good.” I glared in her direction, daring her to say otherwise. She just rolled her eyes and picked up a pair of earrings with way too many rhinestones for my taste. I turned up my nose and reached for a gold pair of hoops.
“Have you decided yet about doing the party with me?”
To be honest, I hadn’t even given it a second thought. “Nope.”
“C’mon, Treasure! Girl, it’s gonna be so much money up in there I might finally get Sophia back.”
I sighed. “Do you even know when he’s getting out?”
“Sometime next month ... I think.” She looked at me with those large eyes of hers, looking pitiful as shit. I hated feeling sorry for her. Honey lived in a one-bedroom apartment with less furniture than you found in a motel. Part of me thought her daughter was probably better off without her, but the side of me who spent years being abused in the foster system believed otherwise.
“I’m still thinking about it, but if I agree, tell Dollar I need half my money up front or no deal.”
“I know that’s right.” She was grinning like a damn fool, like I had already agreed.
“I said I’m still thinking about it.”
Chuckling, Honey gave me a dismissive wave; then for the next hour she spent so much time talking about the party and how much money she was planning
to make that I hurried up shopping and headed back to my town house, alone.
Trey ended up taking me to the CineBistro at Stony Point Mall. I had never been there before but I actually enjoyed it. It was a dinner/movie theater where you got to eat a three-course meal and watch a movie at the same time. Folks had been raving about the new Tyler Perry movie, so we saw that while we ate. Afterward we went to a coffee shop and just talked. I asked him all kinds of questions about running a restaurant, and he asked me about my life as a stripper. I flirted like crazy and made sure my answers were as sexually arousing as the woman sitting across from him. “When’s the next night you work?” he asked after he pulled into my driveway and turned the engine off.
“I’m working Friday night.”
“I wanna come watch you.”
“You’re kidding.” He’d said it before, but I figured at this point he was just joking.
He shook his head. “Why would I kid about something like that? I wanna see you in action.”
We grew quiet then and I felt awkward, which was crazy because I am always in control of the situation, but with Trey, I didn’t know which way to go. “Would you like to come in for a few minutes?”
Trey stared like he was thinking about my question before he finally shook his head. “Nah ... I better get home. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
I nodded, not quite understanding. I guess I wasn’t used to a man saying no to spending time alone with me. “You got a girl?”
He laughed. “Nah, what made you ask that?”
I tried to shrug like it didn’t matter to me one way or another, but I was lying. I wanted Trey to be available and at my disposal. “I’ve heard you talking to her on the phone.”
“I don’t know who you heard, but it wasn’t my girl. I haven’t been serious with anyone in almost a year. The last chick I was kicking it with ... I was looking for something long term and she wasn’t.”
If he wasn’t seeing anyone, then what was his deal? I wondered. He hadn’t tried to touch me or anything. And I knew he wanted to because I could see it in his eyes, and when we weren’t hanging out he would call me out of the blue just to flirt. If that didn’t mean he liked me, then I don’t what did. Men usually broke their necks to try to get at something as fine as me. Trey was hard as hell to figure out, and I was starting to wonder if maybe he might be gay.
But then he did something that erased that idea from my mind. He kissed me. And not just any old kiss. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around me and slipped his tongue between my lips and stroked my mouth with confidence. The brotha had mad skills, and my kitty was purring for some undivided attention. I put my arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, making sure he felt my hard nipples against him. He was feeling me, that much was a given. It was in the way he kissed.
After kissing for what felt like forever, I figured if we were ever going to get this party started, then I was going to have to initiate it. I reached my hand down between us and unzipped his jeans, then reached my hand inside. I needed to know what he was working with before I wasted my damn time. You gotta watch them pretty muthafuckas. They might be fine as hell but coming up short in the dick department.
In a matter of seconds I had slipped my fingers inside the opening in his boxers and had my hand wrapped around his dick—correction—almost wrapped around, because Trey was packing a baseball bat. He moaned when my thumb grazed the head and I couldn’t wait a second longer. I just had to see it for myself. I pulled it out and feasted my eyes on all he was working with. Let me just say Trey was fucking blessed. He had width, length, and a lip-smacking delicious-looking dick.
“You know you wrong for that, right?” he said with a shaky breath.
“Why?” I said all innocently. “If anything, I’m wrong for what I am about to do next.” Before he could respond I had wrapped my lips around his dick. It was crazy but I had this overwhelming need to taste him, and yes, he tasted finger-licking good. I slobbed on him like I was sucking a cherry lollipop. One thing that can’t ever be said about me is that I don’t give bomb-ass head. In under five minutes, I had Trey moaning and speaking in tongues. I could tell he was seconds away from coming in my mouth when he did something that blew my mind. He pushed me away. What the fuck?
“I better stop and let you take your fine ass inside.”
Was he for real? What man turns down getting his dick sucked unless he’s gay? “Why don’t you come in with me? I’ll make it worth your while.” I was licking my lips, reminding him how good I’d made him feel.
He looked like he was weighing his options before he finally shook his head. “It ain’t that kind of party.”
All he did was piss me off. Trey didn’t seem to have a problem with me unzipping his jeans and wrapping my lips around his dick a few minutes ago. I rolled my eyes and reached for the door handle. “Whatever.” He obviously had no idea how many niggas would kill to get a piece of me. Before I could even get out of the car, he grabbed my wrist and kissed me again.
“I got mad respect for you, but I can see you don’t know nothing about a man respecting you. Yeah ... I could take you inside right now and fuck the shit outta you, but that ain’t what this is about. I like you, but first you gotta start liking yourself.”
No, he didn’t just go there. “What the fuck you mean, liking myself? Hell, if I don’t love me, then nobody will.”
“What I’m saying is you’re a lady, Ma. You can’t be sucking niggas off after one date. How’re they gonna respect you in the morning?”
Who gives a fuck! As long as they fatten up my pockets and I can go to the mall, who cares? But with Trey I wasn’t looking for a payout. I really liked him, and it bothered me more than I was willing to admit that he thought I was playing myself. Hell, I was just trying to give him a freebie. That’s what I get for tryna donate to charity.
“Make a nigga earn getting between them thighs. It’s one thing when you working the club, but when you tryna get to know a dude on a personal level, you gotta make him earn your respect.”
As much as it pained me, I knew some of what he was saying was true, but what he didn’t understand was that sex had always been about getting what I could. I learned early on that my pussy was worth a lot of money, and the better I fucked a nigga, the more he was willing to pay to get it. Trey wasn’t interested in that. And for that I felt humiliated. I tried to come at him like all them other tricks and the shit backfired on my ass.
I didn’t want to hear shit else he had to say. I snatched away from him and went inside and slammed the door. I was mad because I had broken my rule and allowed a man get to me.
17
Monica
“Tell me you’re joking,” I screeched, hoping that I was being punked and Ashton Kutcher was somewhere in the bushes lurking. But when the man didn’t even crack a smile, I knew this was no joking matter.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid your air-conditioning system needs to be replaced.”
This was not happening. It couldn’t be. I had bought the house shortly after my divorce with the hope that I wouldn’t have to worry about any problems for years. Wasn’t that why I paid for a home inspection? Now I was regretting not renewing my home owner’s warranty, which had expired last night. “Do you have a payment plan?” I asked with a sheepish grin.
He gave me a look like my question was ridiculous. “No, but we have financing if you’re interested.”
How in the world would I get approved when I didn’t even have a legitimate job? He gave me an invoice and I paid the hundred dollars for his service call, then watched him walk out of my house toward his service truck in my driveway.
I looked up at the ceiling fan overhead, blowing in the foyer. It wasn’t doing anything but stirring hot air. There was no way the girls and I could stay in that hot house without air-conditioning. I didn’t have fifteen hundred dollars I could just spend. It was two weeks before I would get any more money from Anthony, and what little I had needed to
last. Damn. If I had known days ago, I wouldn’t have splurged on the trampoline out back for the girls or the new bikes.
It was times like this I got depressed and started hating my life. At one time all I had to do was pull out a gold card or write a check, but not anymore. I didn’t have it like that. I took a seat on the couch and thought about what to do. The girls would be home in a couple of hours. I needed to figure out how I was going to be able to keep my babies cool. Putting my pride aside, I did the only thing I could. I picked up the phone and called Anthony.
I stepped into the large building on Coach Road. The floor was gleaming and the white walls were fresh and clean. I walked down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. While I waited, I took in my appearance in the reflection of the door. I was wearing a slamming blue jean jumpsuit with a black belt around my waist and open-toe sandals. I wanted to look my best. With all that dancing I’d been doing, I had lost ten pounds and was in love with my newfound curves.
I stepped into the elevator. The only person in there was a man with a receding hairline and a thick waistline.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted me with a smile that was far too eager.
“Hello.” I didn’t even bother to make eye contact because if I did, he would be hitting all over me. Just as I thought. The second the elevator doors shut, he turned and stared dead at me.
“Excuse me, but you look so familiar.”
Was he fucking kidding me? I gave a rude snort and rolled my eyes. That question wasn’t even worth answering.
His brow crinkled. “Seriously, I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“I’ve been told I have that kind of face.”
“I’m Greg, by the way. I own Richmond Investment Fund.”
My head whipped around. He was Anthony’s new partner. The corporation had grossed over a billion dollars for their clients last year. “It’s a pleasure meeting you. I’m Monica. Anthony’s ex-wife.”