Between the Sheets (9781476775807)

by Cairo

  I shake my head. “Man, there’s nothing gay about two cats who are comfortable in their sexualities making it pop in the sheets with a chick. You sound like you struggling with some other ish, man.”

  “Yo, what the fuc—bleep is you sayin’, B? I know you not even tryna call me out on some slickness?”

  “Check this. Why you gettin’ defensive, playboy? No slickness here, fam. All I’m saying is, if you’re not comfortable with sharing ya girl with another cat, then cool. Say that. But saying all that extra ish makes you sound homophobic.”

  “Yo, man, fuc—bleep you. Ain’t shit homo about me, muhfucka. I’m all man.”

  I laugh. “Yeah. And there lies the second red flag of the night. A real man doesn’t need to say he’s all man, he just is. Just like a man who is secure in his manhood and in his sexuality doesn’t need to associate having a threesome with another dude in the sheets with him ‘n’ his girl as some gay-ass ish. If it’s not your thing, then it’s not your thing.”

  “Yo, fuc—bleep you, niggah. Just because you riding that rainbow shit ‘n’ wanna be some gay activist, don’t push that shit on me. Go suck a dic—bleep, muhfucka.”

  I laugh again. “Sounds like insecurity to me, bruh. But it’s all good. Go handle ya demons, bruh. Next caller.”

  There’s a silent pause.

  “Caller, you there?”

  “I’m here, papi. Oh, how I’ve missed you…”

  I blink. “Yo, what the…? Listen, you’ve been told not to call here.”

  “Before you hang up, or try calling the police, you should know I’m here with this sexy piece of ass you chose over me. But let’s see how sexy she is when I’m done carving all in her face…”

  My heart drops. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

  “You heard me. I’m here with this sweet pus—bleep—y, puta!

  I hear muffled screaming.

  Motherfuck! “Yo, let me speak to my wife!”

  “Oh, she’s not taking calls. She’s tied up at the moment.”

  Oh, fuck!

  My first thought is to snatch off these headphones and haul ass back to my crib, but my legs won’t move. Something keeps me planted in my chair. Tells me to keep this broad on the phone for as long as I can.

  I feel my whole muthafuckin’ world crashing in around me.

  “I love you, MarSell, baby…”

  I blink.

  “I’ve always loved you. From the moment I laid eyes on you eight years ago in Vibe, I fantasized about being with you. But I never thought it would happen. Then late one night when I was in my cell, I heard you on the radio. And I knew I had to have you. I fell in love with you that night, papi. I’ve played your voice over and over in my head, masturbating, bringing myself to pleasure. You always know the right things to say to get me so wet and juicy. You have no idea how many nights I laid awake in my bunk, playing with myself.”

  I blink again. Cell? Bunk? What the fuck?

  Nina rushes over to my desk, and whispers, “I’ll call the police.”

  I shake my head. “Look, Ramona, I’m beggin’ you. Let me talk to my wife.”

  “Oh, now you wanna be nice. Now you wanna beg. Okay. I’ll play nice, for now. Only because I love you.”

  I cringe.

  “Here, and make it quick.”

  I hear what sounds like something being ripped off of flesh. Tape?

  “M-marSell…”

  “Marika, baby?” Real shit, hearing her voice brings fuckin’ tears to my eyes. “Yo, baby, you okay? Did that crazy broad hurt you?”

  “N-no. But she—”

  “Now, now. Let’s not get all mushy on me.”

  My heart is racing. I force myself to breath in. Then exhale. Fight to stay calm. “Just tell me what you want. And it’s yours.”

  “I want you. But you made it clear that wasn’t going to ever happen. Remember? You practically told me I wasn’t shit to you. Even after having all your dic—bleep in me. You treated me like shit. You hurt me, MarSell. I’m so sick of you big-dic—bleep niggahs using me.”

  “I never used you…”

  “Yes, you did! Just like that fuc—bleep—ing Alex did. I hate lying-ass, big-dick motherfuc—bleep—ers! Alex knew how much I loved him, too. And so do you. And you both fuc—bleep—ing shitted all over my heart!

  This broad sounds like she’s soaring off of something. My brain starts scrambling for words to talk her down, before she does some reckless shit. “Listen, baby. Please. Whatever you’re thinking, you don’t have to do it.”

  “Pendejo! Now I’m your baby. What was I all those weeks ago when I begged you to be with me, huh? What was I when I told you how much I loved you? What was I when you refused my phone calls and blocked me from your life? What, you thought you could make love to me, fuc—bleep me in mi coño, then take it all away from me.”

  I swallow. “Listen. I was wrong. Okay? I shoulda never treated you like that.”

  She huffs. “Well, you did, motherfuc—bleep—er! Now I’m gonna hurt you. You broke my heart. And now I’m gonna break yours.”

  “Let’s talk this out. I’m sorry. Let Marika go. Okay? I’ll come to you, and we can go anywhere you want. Just you and me.”

  “Just the two of us?”

  I nod my head as if she can see me. “Yes. You and me, baby.”

  “Don’t play games with me.”

  “I’m not playing games. I got you. You ‘n’ me.”

  “And you’ll leave this bitch?”

  “Yes. I’ll leave her. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt her.”

  “Well, then I want you to tell the whole world out there listening about our night together. Tell them how much you love me. Then we can be together. Tell the world how you realized how you never loved this bitch until the night you fuc—bleep—ed me. You and your fuc—beep—ing wife want to keep what the two of you did to me a dirty secret. Well, tonight, I want you to tell them, MarSell. Tell them how your wife fuc—bleep—ed me in my ass, while I rode your dic—bleep. Tell them how this bitch ate my pus—bleep—sy while I sucked all over your long, black…” She moans.

  “Listen to me…”

  “No! You listen! Tell your listeners how you and this bitch took turns fuc—bleep—ing me and how much I loved it.”

  Nina gasps.

  And, I, well, fuck. I practically shit on myself, fucking stunned that all this shit is unfolding over the air.

  “Tell, them now, MarSell. Tell your precious listeners, now!”

  I look over and give Nina a pained look. She stares blankly at the phone lines, then manages to look at me and nod.

  I swallow hard. “That’s right, my freaky peeps,” I say slowly.

  “No, goddamn you! Say it like you mean it! Give it to them how you love it. Real raw and juicy!”

  I glance back over at Nina. She’s still on the phone with the police. She rushes to my desk and slides me a note asking for my address and saying the police want me to keep this chick on the phone, which I planned on doing anyway. I quickly jot down my address, and slide the note back to her.

  I take a deep breath, then go into script, for Marika.

  “That’s right, my freaky peeps. Y-y’all heard it here. Live ‘n’ direct. Ya boy ‘n’ his wife got it in w-with this beauty on the line ‘n’ wore her guts out. We brought her up to our hotel room, got between the sheets, and rocked her lights out, dug in all three holes…”

  She moans. “Mmm. Tell them how good it was.”

  I swallow. Right now, all I give a fuck about is doing and saying whatever the fuck I gotta to keep this broad from hurting Marika. So I go into explicit detail, reliving that whole night over the airwaves.

  “Tell them how much you love me,” she pants into the phone.

  I swallow back the vomit rising in the back of my throat. My jaw tightens. My nostrils flare and I suck in deep, steadying breaths, tryna keep my shit in control. “I…love you.” I croak back a groan. “I love you, aiight?” I feel
like acid is burning the back of my throat. “Now let Marika go. Please.”

  “See, bitch!” she yells. “I told you! He loves me! You hear that! Say it again, MarSell. Let this bitch hear it!” I say it again. “He loves me! Not you, you ass fucker! You hear that, Alex! Fuc—bleep you! I got me a real man now who loves me! Not some big-dick dog like you! I’m over you, Alex Maples!”

  I frown, tryna figure out who the fuck she’s babbling about.

  “No man ever made me come the way you did, MarSell. Your dic—bleep is so big…”

  I cringe, but let her keep talking.

  “And you ate my pus—bleep—sy better than any man I’ve ever been with. Better than any dike bitch I let eat me when I was locked up. I never had a tongue make my whole body shake. But, you, baby…you gave it to me so good…”

  I groan inwardly. Yeah, too muthafuckin’ good!

  “My last lover was good in bed, too. Damn good. But all he was good for was fuc—bleep—ing and sucking and using women. I thought he loved me, but that tall, black, chocolate niggah never meant me any good. All he did was use me. Run through my money. Played emotional games. He liked to mind fuc—bleep women. And that’s why I shot his ass. Left him for dead…”

  I blink. Oh, fuck!

  Nina slides me another note. Tells me the police are at my building. I sigh, relieved, hoping they get to her before it escalates.

  “But, you, baby…I’m not gonna shoot you. I’m gonna—”

  “Listen to me,” I quickly say. “I don’t know who this dude is who screwed you over. And it’s none of my business. But, obviously dude didn’t deserve someone like you. All I care about is you not doing anything stupid ‘n’ crazy, yo.”

  “I’m NOT fuc—bleep—ing crazy! Stop calling me that shit.”

  “I’m not calling you crazy. I said I don’t want you doing anything cray—”

  “Don’t say that word! Or I swear I’ll do something you’ll regret. Don’t make me do it, baby. Okay?”

  I can feel Nina staring into me as she hands me another note. I glance at it. The police want me to keep this broad calm. Want me to not saying anything that’s going to push her to the edge.

  These muhfuckas actin’ like I don’t already know this shit.

  I nod my head, and keep talking. I tell this broad whatever it is she wants to hear. I start asking her shit that I don’t give a fuck about. Like, where she was born. Nuthouse. What her favorite color is. Institutional gray. What her zodiac sign is. Crazy.

  “I wanna get to know you,” I lie, straining to keep my composure. “If we’re gonna be together, baby, then we have to trust each other.”

  My stomach twists in knots. I feel like I’ma shit on myself fuckin’ with this broad. But I know it’s what I have to do. So I tell her whatever she wants to hear. Then I tell her I wanna speak to Marika.

  “Why? What the hell you want to speak to this bitch for?”

  “To tell her that it’s me and you now, that it’s over between us. But I want her to hear it from me.”

  “I promise you, papi. Don’t cross me.”

  “I won’t.”

  A few excruciating seconds go by before I hear Marika’s strained voice.

  My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely think straight. I do all I can do to keep from breaking down.

  “Marika, baby…I love you.”

  Sniffles. “I love you, too. Always.”

  “I know, baby. Listen. I need you to hold on, aiight? I’m gonna get you outta this shit, aiight?”

  “S-s-she has a—”

  Pop!

  A shot is fired.

  Nina shrieks, every ounce of blood draining from her face.

  “MARIKA!” I cry out, my voice choking off in a sob. Fear slashing through my heart as I leap from my seat, cupping my hands tightly over my headphones.

  My blood freezes.

  The gun goes off twice more. Then there’s a deadly, crippling silence over the airwaves.

  EPILOGUE

  Six months later

  Margarita Island, Venezuela…

  Dead. Everything inside of me, everything I am, died the night Marika was found in a river of blood.

  Shot in the head.

  Dead.

  Murdered.

  Thirty-six years old.

  By some unstable broad who had fuckin’ delusions that she was in love with me. That she and I were meant to be together. When all we—Marika and I—did was fuck her. Love? Fuck outta here! That broad fell in love with the dick, real and silicone. Not me. But somehow she got it stuck in her raggedy-ass head that I was hers. And fucked my whole world up.

  She shot Marika twice, then turned the gun on herself.

  One night of a hard dick, and all-night fucking cost me the love of my life.

  My soul mate.

  My lover.

  My best friend.

  The woman I loved getting freaky with. Loved baring my naked soul to.

  Gone.

  I swallow back a wave of emotions, glancing out into the Caribbean Sea.

  Burying Marika was probably the hardest thing besides having to identify her body that I’ve ever had to do. I’m still shaken by it.

  Still haunted by it.

  Still fucked up over it.

  All I’ve felt is emptiness, nothing but overwhelming numbness.

  That broad, Ramona Ramirez—with all of her fuckin’ aliases: Marisol Rodriguez, Alexandria Maples, and whoever the fuck else—had done this shit before. Stalk a muhfucka. Get the dick ‘n’ get nutty over it. That Alexander Maples cat, the one she kept rattling on about over the radio. She’d shot him several times and left dude for dead, all because he wasn’t checkin’ for her romantically. Fuckin’ craziness, yo. She was on the run for over three months before they snatched her ass up in Arizona, where she was stalking some other muhfucka. So how the fuck she only served three years for that shit is beyond me. Good behavior or some other shit.

  I sigh, reaching over for my drink and taking a sip. I swallow, then lick my lips, setting the cool drink back up on the small table. I reach over and grab the coconut oil and slather the front of my body with it, stretching my hand over my limp dick, oiling it up. Here I am stretched out one of the world’s most beautiful nude beaches in Venezuela…alone.

  This shit’s not a good feeling. But I needed to get away from the media, from the paparazzi, from the memories. I needed to get from under the scrutiny, and the gossip, and the speculation about Marika and my sex life.

  “Were the two of you in an open marriage?”

  “Is it true your wife was bisexual?”

  “Did the two of you engage in the swingers’ lifestyle?”

  “Rumors have been floating around for years that you are also bisexual. Care to comment?”

  Fuck outta here.

  Like I’d told one reporter, “Marika and I loved each other, unconditionally. We held no secrets. And we had no inhibitions. Our public life is open for the public to pull apart. But our private life, how we got down behind closed doors, is not open for discussion. Never has been. And it never will be. Now respect the fact that I’m grieving the loss of my wife, and fall the fuck back.”

  And that ended that.

  Will I ever publicly disclose being bisexual? Nah. For what? That shit’s no one’s business unless I’m tryna build a life with you. Otherwise that shit is on a need-to-know basis.

  I close my eyes. Allow the blazing sun to beat across my naked body.

  I miss you so fuckin’ much, baby…

  “Excuse me? Hablas español?”

  I raise my head and slowly lift my shades up over my head, and use my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. My breath catches. There’s a curvaceous beauty standing in front of me.

  Her bronze skin glitters under the rays.

  “Nah, I don’t.”

  “Oh, okay. You mind if I take this chair?” she says, pointing to the beach chair beside me.

  I allow my eyes to rake up and down he
r body. Butt-ass naked, titties melon-ripe ‘n’ juicy, hips real thick, waist nice ‘n’ tight…she’s bad as fuck!

  There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “Nah, you good. Do you.”

  I drop my shades back down over my eyes, then lean back allowing the sun to bake into my skin.

  Where was I? Oh, right…my life. I know at some point I gotta get back to the States, back to my life. I now not only have my label to run, I’ve inherited Marika’s publishing house. Yeah, I held shares in the company, but it was her baby. One I’ll die trying to keep alive. For her.

  Right now, thinking about that shit makes my heart ache. Since Marika’s death—nah, murder, I’ve left the radio station. Although I enjoyed kicking it live on the radio, that night—with my whole world unraveling for all to hear—crushed me. The love and support from my million-plus listeners and from around the globe has been real heartfelt, but still too overwhelming. I’m not ready to hit the airwaves, maybe never.

  “Is this your first time on Margarita Island?” the silky voice says, floating over to me.

  I turn my head in her direction. “Nah. My second time.”

  Her gaze slides from my face to my chest, then down to my abs, before lowering to my dick. Her tongue glides over her lips.

  “Are you here alone?”

  “Yeah,” I say, staring at those beautiful milk wagons of hers. My mind starts wandering, imagining sucking her nipples into my mouth, and gently grazing my teeth over them. And a part of me feels guilty for lusting. “You?”

  “No. With my husband and another couple.”

  “Oh, aiight.” I reach for my drink, and take two long sips, swallowing back my dirty thoughts. I haven’t fucked in six months. Haven’t had the desire, or the energy to. Fuck, I haven’t even sucked my own dick, or jacked off. And the last time I tried it, my shit went limp.

  This whole shit has left me impotent. Turned me into one big-ass noodle-dick muhfucka.

  “I don’t mean to be straightforward,” Beautiful says. “But…”

  I don’t wanna straight up ig her. But all I wanna do is bake under the sun and be alone in my thoughts. I inhale. Then slowly turn my head back in her direction. I exhale. “Speak ya mind.”