If Only For
ONE
Night
Jaylin Rogers
Brenda Hampton, Contributor
Copyright © 2010 Brenda Hampton
Printed in the United States of America
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales of persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Library of Congress Catalog Card No.: On File
Thank you to the beautiful Naughty Angels who contributed to this story! You ladies ROCK!
Book Club Meeting
May 15, 2010
Unlike me at all, I was running late for a book club meeting that I had scheduled with several of my readers from different cities. It was a yearly event that I’d devoted myself to, and there I was stuck in traffic. I slammed my hand on the horn at the slow moving car in front of me, wanting to yell out of the window and tell the man to move aside.
Instead, I took a deep breath and slowly made my way to the Renaissance Hotel where the meeting was scheduled. Upon arrival, I let the valet park my car and hurried to grab my carrying bags from the trunk.
“Do you need any help with your bags?” the bellhop asked.
I put one bag on my shoulder and pulled up the handle on my other black case so I could roll it inside. “No, thank you. But could you tell me what time it is?”
The bellhop looked at his watch. “Almost ten minutes after two.”
I thanked him again, feeling awful that I was ten minutes late. Some of the ladies had come a long way to see me, and the least I could do was be on time. Hopefully, they would understand that traffic had been unkind to me, but either way, I had some explaining to do. I wanted to be sure that my attire didn’t show any wrinkles and that my hair hadn’t fallen out of place. Stopping by the bathroom to check myself out would have been a crime, so I settled for the few wrinkles in my navy blue two-piece pantsuit and the strands of hair that was probably protruding in different places. I squashed the bathroom altogether and headed to the room that I had reserved for the event. I pulled on the heavy door to open it, and almost immediately, everyone turned their heads. The room was filled to capacity with many women mingling, while sitting in rows of chairs. Smiles could be seen everywhere. Thunderous applauses erupted in the room, and late or not, it was obvious that my readers were delighted to see me.
“Thank you,” I said with an appreciative smile on my face. I stopped to give hugs to many of the readers that I’d known and even to some of the new ones that I hadn’t met before. “I’m so glad to see that everyone could make it and thank you all for coming. I feel so blessed.”
I made my way up front, tagging my bags along with me. Some of the ladies were filling their plates with finger foods that were lined up on tables that were decorated with white and blue table cloths. Helium balloons were on the tables, and whenever I hooked up with my readers, it was more like a celebration. I explained to everyone the reason for my tardiness and then fixed a plate as well.
For at least another hour, we all sat eating and talking about my books, particularly the Naughty Series. You couldn’t talk about Naughty without bringing up the name of Jaylin Jerome Rogers. I mean, where did he come from? How was I able to create a character that was so addicting? Most importantly, was he real? Now, that was the one question that always made me pause and take a moment to gather my thoughts. I, of all people, knew the story behind this man and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to reveal the truth about what so many, especially women, wanted to know.
While in thought, I gazed down at the marble floor, thinking of those memorable times that I shared with Jaylin. How could I forget, as the thoughts of him stayed with me more than I wanted them to, or for that matter, was willing to admit. My thoughts had kept me up in the wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep because I couldn’t get him out of my head. At times, it was a scary feeling, and the most troubling thing of all was that I someday had to release him, just as I had done in the past. Looking up at the many readers who sat attentive with their eyes looking straight at me, I let out a sigh and professed with fidgeting hands, “There is a possibility that he is not a fictional character.”
As the room fell silent, you could hear a pin drop. No one had moved and many sat with their mouths wide open. One lady in particular stood, placing her hand on her hip.
“If Jaylin Rogers is real, show him to me,” she said. “I want to see his butt, as I may have a few things that I want to say to him.”
Several ladies nodded, and another stood to voice her opinion. “If he’s real, can you please provide me with a phone number so I can call him? That brotha got skills and I want to show him what I’m working with, too.”
Laughter followed her comment and high-fives were slapped around the room. It had gotten pretty loud, as well as crazy. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to that magnitude about Jaylin; after all, this was supposed to be our secret. Then, when one woman stood, claiming that she had personally met Jaylin before, everyone turned around to look at her.
“Ladies, my name is Theresa Hodge,” she said with an almost unsure and shy look on her face. “I’ve met Mr. Rogers and I don’t mind telling anyone how well I really know him.”
“And just how well is that,” one woman snapped.
“Very well,” Theresa admitted. “If Ms. Hampton doesn’t mind, I’d love to tell my story.”
I called Theresa up front, and she took a seat next to me. I had no clue what she was going to say, but the expression on her face said that this would be good. Also, knowing what kind of man Jaylin was, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Everyone sat back in their seats, ready for Theresa to tell her story. She crossed her legs and the words that left her mouth were shocking . . .
One Night’s Pleasure
Theresa Hodge
“Theresa, you have got to get out of this funk you've been in for the last two weeks! Jasmine and I are taking you out and saying no isn't an option,” Shelia said over the phone.
“Shelia is right,” Jasmine said, adding her two cents on the other end. “So get ready to get your groove on come Friday night girlfriend.”
“I'm not really into the club scene,” I replied. “As my best friends, the both of you know this already.”
“Maybe not,” Jasmine said. “But you will not waste another minute thinking about that bastard. He wasn't good enough for you anyway.”
I had the nerve to correct Jasmine, knowing deep down that he was a bastard. “That bastard’s name is Steven. I know what he did, and I will never forgive him for it. Finding him with my so-called stepsister was the ultimate betrayal. I will never forgive that slut, Patriece, or that asshole of an ex-boyfriend. I want nothing, whatsoever, to do with either one of them.”
I knew Shelia would be reluctant to believe me, so she quickly spoke up. “Theresa, you know the best way to get over a man is with another one, right? You can do that by going out with us.”
I shrugged. “Not always, and going from one man to the next doesn’t sound like a good thing. Besides, I've had enough of no good assholes to last me a lifetime.”
“Well, at least, think about going out with us,” Jasmine said. “Shelia and I will call you back tomorrow. If you say yes, we will go shopping, after we get off work and have dinner.”
“Okay, but I am not making any promises.”
With that, I h
ung up the phone. I knew my friends were right about Steven, but I loved him so much. So much that I lost myself in a wasted relationship. I gave that man five years of my life. I'm glad I found out who he was before I married the bastard. I sat on my bed, thinking about the day he’d gotten busted.
That day, if I hadn't forgotten my cellphone the night before at Steven's place, I wouldn't have been none the wiser. Using my key and entering his apartment, thinking he had already left for work, I walked in on him and Patriece going at it like rabbits. Literally, Patriece was on all fours and Steven was ramming it in from the back. I was so stunned. All I could do was stand there for a minute, before collecting myself and picking up the nearest vase. I happily smashed it on Steven's head. He must have had a hard head because the vase cracked in a million pieces and all that fool did was scream BLOODY MURDER! His voice went higher than an opera singer at an opera. That slut, Patriece, scrambled to cover herself, saying over and over that this wasn't what it looked like.
How the hell else was it supposed to look? My mama and daddy didn't raise no fool, so I chalked it up as a loss and left. That was two weeks ago, and he’d been blowing up my cell, and banging on my door at all hours of the night ever since. That fool didn't know who he was messing with, but he will if he keeps that shit up. I promised myself that tomorrow would be a new day. That was the last day I would wallow in misery over that asshole.
Later that day, and after thinking about all that had happened, I decided to take a long bubble bath. It always relaxed me before bedtime. I went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature of the water. I added my favorite bubble bath, as inhaling the vanilla scent relaxed me every time.
I took off my clothes, while watching the tub fill with water. Looking into the mirror at my 5'2 height, I always wished I was taller and smaller. My friends always complemented me about being so beautiful, thick and voluptuous. Both Shelia and Jasmine were 5'8 and very slim. I was not envious of them, because they had hearts of gold. Sliding into the bubble-filled tub, I relaxed my head on my bath pillow and closed my eyes. I must have dozed, because the water had gotten cool. I hurried and bathed, then got out of the tub. After brushing my teeth, I moisturized my entire body with lotion and slid between the cozy sheets. I had a habit of sleeping in the nude, ever since I moved into my own apartment seven years ago. I was out like a light, before my head even hit the pillow.
The next day on my lunch break, I called Jasmine and Shelia to let them know Friday night was on. Today, however, we agreed to meet downtown at Dolphins Mall. Christmas decorations were already in all of the stores and it was only the first week of November. We stopped in our favorite store, Macy's. I chose an off the shoulder, black knee-length dress—not too extravagant but classy all the same. I loved how the dress was cinched in at the waist and the top part helped support my more than generous breasts. This dress would go perfectly with the four-inch heels I’d already had in my closet. After picking out a few more accessories, Jasmine, Shelia and I were done. We decided to grab a bite to eat at the food court, so we’d have time to get manicures and pedicures as well.
While getting our nails and toes done, we all decided to try this club we had never tried before. It was called Wet Willie's. We were told after hours that they had an open bar and a great view on their second-floor patio. Not only that, but a great view of the ocean on Ocean Drive as well. I was glad we would be going somewhere laidback, instead of to a club that was too crowded, with people packed like sardines in a can.
As my friends and I parted, we promised to meet up with each other the next night at Wet Willie's around eleven o' clock. The next morning I awakened early, ready to get my work day started. As I was getting ready, I felt excited about tonight. Being with Steven had really made me dull. He never wanted to take me out or wanted me to go out with my friends. Thinking back, he was definitely more of a hindrance. Good riddance!
The work day went by quickly, and before I knew it, it was five o’clock. I rushed through the Friday evening traffic to get home. I wanted to wash and wrap my hair, intending to keep my hairstyle very simple. My shoulder-length wrap really accentuated my round caramel face, so leaving it like that was the plan.
While inserting my key into the lock, I screamed as a pair of arms encircled my waist from behind. “Shhhh,” I heard a soft voice say. I knew it was Steven’s. He put his hand over my mouth to silence my scream. “You will have the neighbors calling the police.”
I pushed his hand away from my mouth, as if his hand was contaminated. Almost instantly, he started to plead with me. “Baby, you know how much I love you. I was drunk and things just got out of hand.”
I cut my eyes at him and pursed my lips. “Yeah, like I believe your dick just happened to fall into Patriece's pussy. You know what Steven? I am not even going to go there with you. You are a jerk and I can definitely do better than your sorry ass.”
He defensively held out his hands. “Theresa, please let me . . .”
My hand went up to halt his words, “Whatever else you have to say, tell it to a monkey’s ass!” I went inside, slamming the door in his face.
Exhaling, I felt good that I had stood my ground and didn't listen to anymore of Steven's lies. The confrontation did take something out of me, but I had to keep it moving. I set my alarm clock and slept for a couple of hours. Later, I woke up feeling refreshed. I decided to wash my hair while I showered. Freshly showered, I brushed my teeth and flossed. I spent extra time moisturizing my skin and spraying my body with my favorite body spray. Then, I put on my sheer peach half bra with a matching thong. The front of my thong was so sheer, you could see through it. It didn't take long for me to wrap and dry my hair. Spraying on a little hairspray, I brushed out my wrap, allowing my hair to fall on my shoulders and leaving me with a soft bouncy wrap. I was thankful it was still warm this time of year, and being sleeveless wasn't a problem. I slid my dress over my curvaceous body and zipped it. It looked even better now than it did in the store. I didn't even need stockings, so I slid my feet into my heels. I put on minimum makeup, and added glossy lip gloss to my full lips. I sprayed a little more perfume on my wrist, neck and behind my knees. Ready, I grabbed my purse and phone on the way out the door.
While in the car, I called Shelia and Jasmine to see if they were on their way to Wet Willie's. I was meeting them there, since they decided to ride together. We pulled up in the parking lot within minutes of each other. Shelia and Jasmine wore micro mini dresses. They looked great as usual. Making small talk as we made our way into the dimly-lit bar, we decided to sit toward the back, only because we didn't want to be close to the dance floor. The club was pretty crowded, but not too crowded. The DJ was playing "Nasty Song" by Lil Ru. Shelia and Jasmine were ready to get their groove on and I could tell because they couldn’t stop snapping their fingers. I hadn't been out in so long, I sort of felt out of place. The waitress came by to ask if we wanted to order any drinks.
“What is the night's special?” Shelia asked.
The waitress’ name was Tina, and she replied, "It’s called ‘The Call A Cab’. After you have too many of those, you will definitely have to call a cab!”
We all laughed. “Bring it on!” Shelia said.
I was hesitant. “I don't know,” I said with skepticism. “Y'all know I’m not a big drinker.”
Shelia threw back her hand. “Girl, you need to let your hair down. We got your back, right Jasmine?”
Jasmine had already told the waitress, Tina, to bring her a drink. “You got that right,” Jasmine said. “We definitely have your back.”
When the waitress brought our drinks, they were in tall clear glasses. I took a sip of the slushy sweet drink, and it was very smooth going down. It was also much more potent than one may have thought, but I liked it.
The DJ went back a little bit and played "Fire" by Lloyd Banks. By this time, we were feeling the effects of the booze. Two guys came up, asking Shelia and Jasmine to dance. They hesitated, b
ut I urged them to go. As they went to the dance floor, the waitress came by and I ordered another drink. I knew I should be drinking more slowly, because I hadn't eaten much that day. Surprisingly, when I looked up and saw Steven, I lost my appetite. "What the hell," I mumbled out loudly. I had been thinking of the devil and here he walks through the door with Patriece on his arm. She had so much makeup packed on, making her look like a two-bit hooker. I took a big gulp of my drink, hoping I wouldn’t be seen.
I wanted to avoid an embarrassing situation at all cost, so I looked for Shelia and Jasmine on the dance floor, hoping we could quietly leave. In a hurry, not looking where I was going, I walked right into a chest that felt like I had hit a brick wall. Looking up, my eyes locked into those of the most gorgeous and tall hunk of a man I had ever had the pleasure of running into. His hair was naturally curly, and it took everything in me not to run my fingers through it. There wasn't too much hair on his smooth, light-skinned face and only a goatee complimented his strong chin.
“Excuse me,” I stuttered in awe. “I . . . I wasn't looking where I was going.” He grabbed my waist to keep me from falling. Surely thought I would slip through his arms like melting butter. My heart rate went up, and I felt as if I had been running for miles. He was impeccably well dressed; black slacks with a button-down, Italian satin shirt. His sleeves were cuffed up to his elbows. His shoes were black leather, squared-toed loafers. Dressed in all black, he had “sexy” and “bad” written all over him. His watch was a diamond studded Rolex that glistened on his wrist. Money had to be his middle name, but knowing that he had it wasn’t what drew me to him. It was his all out blatant sensuous sexuality that his body exuded. Cut to perfection like a Roman god . . . damn, he had miss kitty purring with just a look.
If Only For One Night Page 1