Pursuing The Plug

by Mercy B

  Unless you trying to fuck, then we can… Rafeeq’s thoughts were interrupted by Hampsher’s revelation.

  Her boldness was familiar, an attribute Rafeeq recognized in both his mother and sister. While he’d always appreciated its presence in their life, he’d rebuked it in the women he sought after, knowing that it would be the unmanning of him. And there the beauty stood, showcasing it in a standoff as they shared intimidating stares. Rafeeq could feel the seams of his briefs unraveling as his manhood strained against the fabric in a desperate attempt to free itself from confinement.

  “Discrimination.” Her pretty brown eyes darkened.

  “Call it whatever you want. You found your way inside this bitch. Find your way back out.” Rafeeq lowered his gun before waving toward the exit.

  “You don’t do business with women? I find that hard to believe.” Hampsher’s gaze had lowered. She was aware of his blatant attraction to her by the bulging of his jeans. Rafeeq, prideful of the package tucked away, allowed her to continue her examination.

  “Besides fucking, there’s no other business I’m interested in with a woman. The exit.” He reiterated.

  “I’m here as a favor.” Hampsher caved with a sigh. Much like herself, Rafeeq was a no nonsense type of guy.

  “For who?”

  “Mikel.” Mikel was her grandfather’s middle name, one that the streets recognized him by.

  “How is he?” Rafeeq’s antennas rose, hoping that everything was well with his favorite customer.

  Through the years, Mikel had been a sound voice lending advice when needed. He reminded him of his grandfather, Mason, who frequented his bar just as often. The tugging of Hampsher’s lips before the showcasing of her teeth caused unstable contractions to birth within Rafeeq’s chest cavities. Her smile insinuated the fact that her grandfather was well, but Rafeeq had suddenly fallen ill.

  “He’s good.” She nodded.

  Rafeeq wasn’t.

  Clearing his throat, Rafeeq summoned moisture from somewhere within to coat the dryness of his mouth.

  “Where’s his slip?”

  The atmosphere shifted tremendously at the sound of Mikel’s name. Rafeeq turned his back on his guest and invited her to have a seat in front of him as he returned his gun to its holster and added Mikel to the list of exclusive clients he serviced.

  “Have a seat.”

  He didn’t ask nor did he leave much opportunity for Hampsher to decline. Yet, she remained standing after reaching his desk.

  Cute, but you still sitting your ass down, Rafeeq thought to himself as he rested his legs.

  “Sit down,” he commanded without raising his voice or deepening his tone.

  “Thanks, but…”

  “Sit down.” Rafeeq stood again.

  At last, he demanded that she follow his orders and take the seat he offered. Although it was for his own selfish reasons, being that Mikel didn’t pay upfront, he also wanted her to rest her bones for a bit. There wasn’t a purse in sight or a set of keys. Rafeeq had already concluded that she’d walked down and wanted her to unwind before starting back out.

  Nodding while biting her bottom lip, Hampsher chuckled and grabbed the back of the chair she was standing beside. His room. His rules. She reasoned, trying to convince herself that it was the only reason she’d decided to follow his orders up until now.

  “Is this the way you are with your customers? All of them?” The softness of her voice was agonizing.

  Rafeeq had yet to return to his seat as he watched Hampsher moisturize her plump lips with her wet tongue. Composure intact, he willed away his personal desires and placed business at the forefront. Finally, after Hampsher was comfortable in her chair, he had a seat himself.

  “This is how I am with you.” Rafeeq countered. “My dick doesn’t get hard for everybody. As I stated before. I don’t do business with women. Hopefully, that solves whatever problem you have floating around in that pretty little head of yours.”

  Silence.

  Hampsher bathed in the uncertainty that plagued the air. He couldn’t figure her out. A mere shell, there was nothing much to deconstruct.

  Even if he reached her core through the gazing and squinting of his eyes, Rafeeq would be disappointed in the end. There was nothing there. Nothingness was the only substance Hampsher harbored. Anything else containing life slipped away as fast as her mother had that day she laid on their marble flooring. The memories were the only thing else left to discover. An abyss—a bottomless bit, as she often referred to herself as. Saving Rafeeq the time and wasted energy, Hampsher pressured either side of the chair that she was seated in and lifted to remove herself from his office and from his presence.

  If there was nothing else she hated, it was a calculating man. They were the most dangerous kind, ones that could outsmart her if she wasn’t quick on her feet. Unfortunately, being quick on her feet led to horrible decision making on her end. Because she too was calculating. Every decision she’d ever made took time and was made with precision.

  Just as fast as Hampsher swung her legs over the foot of the chair, Rafeeq was upon her. His cologne tickled her nostrils, diluting his intrusion of her personal space and making it seem as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. When, truthfully, less than four hours prior, she’d placed a bullet between a man’s eyes for being so close, demanding that she shrink herself to accommodate his masculinity.

  “Uh,” Hampsher moaned as she felt his calloused hands on either side of her face.

  His palm supported her chin as he forced her to look up at him. Over a foot taller than her, Hampsher strained her neck to see into his deep brown rounds. The words to follow would’ve swept her from her feet hadn’t they been weighted down by the pain and anger she contained for so many years.

  “What’s hurting you?”

  “Your mother ever taught you to mind your business?” Hampsher reached upward and tried slapping Rafeeq’s hands away, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “At this moment, this minute, I’m making you my business. It’s the last time you mention my mother.”

  Tightening his grip, he demonstrated the seriousness that was present in his tone and posture. He hovered over her like a concerned parent, like a father would his wounded child.

  He’s establishing his dominance. She gasped. Hampsher was uneasy and alarmed by the way that Rafeeq had begun to prey on her. He’d discovered a weakness that she tucked so far away that she had trouble finding it some days.

  “If I continue?” She sassed, searching for her composure to gain. Anxiety crept into her lungs. The lack of control threatened to squeeze the life out of her.

  “Then I’m taking you to meet her since you care to know so much about her.”

  “I don’t.”

  Hampsher’s eyes faltered. Her obsession with the mothers of people she encountered was unusual, but she could hardly help herself. In the short time she’d spent with her own, she’d taught her some of life’s most valuable lessons. Hampsher could only imagine what having her around through childhood and adulthood would’ve been like. Because she didn’t, she sought answers through others. Her current guinea pig was Rafeeq, but he was hardly cooperating. From what she’d learned so far, his mother was much like him—untamable and cold.

  “A drink… on me.” Rafeeq disregarded her final statement and proposed that she spend more time with him.

  Aside from wanting to bend her over his desk and ease whatever heartache she was feeling, he also wanted to access her inner thoughts. Something deep within him warned him that she was a troubled soul much like him, which was why he couldn’t let her walk out of his door so soon.

  Though he thought it wasn’t possible, he’d bumped into someone whose demons were as ferocious as his own. They were boisterous and loud, begging to be silenced. Obviously, Hampsher didn’t acquire the strength to quiet them on her own.

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Then watch me have one.”

  “What do you want with me?�
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  “Besides the obvious.” Rafeeq dropped his gaze, signaling the hard-on he was masking poorly, “I don’t want anything from you. I’d like to have you leave with something, though.” He assured Hampsher, taking in her beauty as their breaths battled for space and opportunity.

  “I’m…”

  “A peace of mind.” Rafeeq’s smile taunted her with a good time. “Even if just for a while.”

  Hampsher’s mouth watered at the insinuation. If her peace of mind happened to be orchestrated by the enormous bulge in Rafeeq’s pants, then she could concur. However, a drink over conversation was absurd. She refused to allow him to slither his way into her head and attempt to piece together her brokenness. It was unethical as she viewed it—completely off limits.

  “Can I at least get your name before I’m bent over wondering who to call out to?” Hampsher stated her interest, and it wasn’t a drink.

  Rafeeq’s brows lifted and attempted to join his hairline. Appalled at her boldness, he chuckled and removed his hand from her face. Rafeeq took a step backward as he massaged his goatee. His tongue involuntarily leaving it’s resting place and swiping across his lips.

  Heavy, his thoughts screamed. “Rafeeq.”

  He chose his government, one that he felt as if he’d enjoy hearing her bellow as he dug her back out.

  “Rafeeq,” Hampsher repeated.

  “As much as I’d love to lend you my mans right now, duty calls. Yet, I want to leave the opportunity on the table.” Rafeeq knew that he had a busy day ahead of him, and a quick nut wouldn’t suffice.

  “What happened to that peace of my mind you…”

  Hampsher was a bit disappointed, the moisture in her underwear, exposing her true desires. It had been months since she’d indulged in steamy, meaningless sex. Eleven to be frank. Every once in a while, she got her rocks off to relieve the buildup she rubbed her way through on vulnerable nights that she craved a presence other than her own.

  “I have every intention to give it you… only if you’re here by the time listed.” Rafeeq had scribbled his address on a small piece of paper along with a designated time for Hampsher’s arrival.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “There’s always someone willing,” he assured her with a shrug. “But if you know what’s good for you, then I’ll see you at twelve.”

  “I’ll consider i—” Hampsher spun around and began for the doors she’d come through minutes prior.

  Rafeeq’s large hand covered the back of her entire neck, slowing her to a stop. The heat between them raised a few notches, and he didn’t rectify the situation a bit as he brushed his frontal against Hampsher’s backside. Rafeeq wanted to assure her that she’d be at his side in a few hours, submitting to his demands and screaming for help that she would receive in Heavy doses.

  “You’ll be there.” He gritted his teeth. He was frustrated with Hampsher’s deliberate obsession with disobedience. Though exasperating, it was intriguing at once. “This is my city. It won’t take but a phone call to find you.”

  Hampsher had been released and freed to continue about her day. Back into the bar, she steadied her breathing and regained control of her thoughts. Since she’d walked into the office of Rafeeq Jones, they’d been snatched from her possession. Chastisement was plentiful as Hampsher made her way through the sea of people gathered for no particular reason other than alcohol and the sake of pre-gaming.

  “What was that?” Hampsher spoke herself in utter shock of her behavior and lack of equanimity. Her sounds were drowned by the large televisions, loud conversations, and music.

  “Focus.” She reminded herself as she combed the bar, noting the extravagance.

  Finally at the exit, she brushed shoulders with an unsuspecting patron. Immediately, his hand clutched his waist as their bodies collided with one another. Hampsher found him humorous. Before he could even remove his Glock from his waist, she would have gutted him like a fish with the blade that she had concealed underneath her biceps. Her blood boiled inside of her veins, causing her body to reheat. It was the second time in one night that she’d been tried. Only that time, the urge to put a hole in her assailant’s chest was prominent.

  Focus, she repeated in her head while forging a smile. “Sorry. A bit clumsy.”

  Bashfully, Hampsher batted her eyes and chuckled. As he relaxed, Hampsher could sense his easiness return. It was flattering how much men underestimated women. At first glance, he felt as if he had nothing more to worry about, but he did. Hampsher could skin him in his entirety without blinking an eye or batting a lash.

  Silly. Hampsher watched as he removed his hand from his waist. His smile didn’t appear, showcasing his rough exterior. Another breech of humor for Hampsher. It was a badge of honor to appear deadly, but being deadly was an entirely different narrative. The most vicious beings didn’t resemble their capabilities. It was an aspect that Hampsher took great pride in.

  “Crim!” Their brief encounter was interrupted by a young man with gold teeth and even more gold chains. He was decked out and draped in jewels, a sign of money.

  Nodding, Hampsher gathered her bearings and proceeded out of the door. Soon, the sun would be settling and dinner would be served. It was a tradition that Hampsher looked forward to. Her grandparents were her world, the only thing she felt that she had of value.

  The lighting from the street danced on Hampsher’s skin as she cut corner after corner, reaching her destination in less time than she’d anticipated. When upon the large skyscraper, she released a distressful sigh.

  Lavish.

  Bold.

  Tasteful.

  Wealthy.

  The building that Rafeeq was stored in shared the same qualities as he did. Hampsher wasn’t the least bit surprised at his choice of dwelling. Personally, she preferred secrecy and simplicity over all else. It was her father’s fetish of the lavish lifestyle that had sent him over the edge and landed her mother in a casket. Frankly, she despised it. The thought was too sore to even consider.

  “Can I help you?” The doorman stirred Hampsher from her trance.

  “Rafeeq. I’m here for R—”

  “Mr. Jones is expecting you. Do you have a car that you’ll be needing pulled into the garage for the night?”

  “No.”

  “So you’ll be needing a service in the morning?”

  “I won’t be.” Hampsher shook her head as she followed the doorman into the building.

  At the sound of her last statement, his steps crept to a halt before turning back to take a good look at her. Hampsher grew uneasy with the sudden shift and wondered why she’d sought out such a pointless mission instead of enjoying s’mores with her grandparents.

  “Fair enough, then. Follow me.” He shrugged as if Hampsher hadn’t been too convincing.

  Inside, enormous structures filled the space to capacity. Crystal chandeliers, vaulted ceilings, large instruments, tables, intricate chairs, a bar, large televisions, spacious couches—the list continued for eternity.

  “This way.” The doorman led Hampsher into the elevator.

  Of course, Hampsher thought to herself as she exited the elevator, which happened to lead her into the foyer of Rafeeq’s home. The top floor was occupied by him. Her nipples budded upon entrance. The air was nippy and causing bumps to rise in addition to her pebbles.

  “Evening, Hampsher.”

  His voice was laced with venom. Still, Hampsher had yet to decipher the tug he’d managed and why she’d shown precisely at the time he’d requested. In fact, she couldn’t understand why she’d stuck around his office long enough to even have him consider the possibility of them exploring anything more than a few seconds together as she turned in her grandfather’s slip.

  “It’s morning actually.”

  “Not quite. We have approximately thirty seconds before midnight.” Rafeeq appeared from the shadows, shirtless and dripping from the shower he’d indulged in before her entrance. “Should I heighten the temperature?�
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  Rafeeq was mindful of his guests. He always had been at least until he’d utilized them for whatever purpose they served, and then he didn’t give them a single thought. It was all mundane... all routine.

  Clearing her throat, Hampsher followed his eyes until they met at her chest. “I’ll regret asking you to later.”

  It wasn’t the mind-fucking session that Rafeeq would’ve preferred and Hampsher wanted to make it clear to him. While his eyes were still fixated on her small rack, she pushed the left side of her bodysuit down her shoulder to expose her deep pink areola.

  “For now, I’ll manage,” she continued. “Shouldn’t you be worried about upping the temperature for yourself?”

  With a brow raised, Hampsher acknowledged the lack of imprinting in Rafeeq’s briefs.

  “One thing for certain, he knows to get himself together when the time comes. You just keep doing you.”

  It was a pleasure for Rafeeq to watch Hampsher undress. Her independence was alarming, reminding him that he’d need to be cautious when bedding her. Women of her caliber preferred to control the bedroom, cumming on their own watch and deciding which direction their night went in. Unfortunately, that shit didn’t fly with Rafeeq. It wouldn’t start that night either.

  “You waste no time?”

  “The next second isn’t promised.” Hampsher countered. “Plus, I’m horny. I don’t bring my friends to visit with my grandparents.”

  “So you’re visiting?”

  Rafeeq examined her frame as she pushed her shorts toward the floor and was able to remove her top completely. She stood before him raw yet still covered completely. She was buried beneath the hardships she dared to speak of, but they were sensed. They were heavy. Rafeeq could feel the weight of them.

  Squeezing her lids together, Hampsher chastised herself from talking so much. It was never her forte. Instead of replying, she straightened her posture and waited for the obvious. Dick was on the menu, and her body was famished. It was the only reason she’d come. Conversation was not expected. Hopefully, Rafeeq got the message.

  He sprang to life. The awakening of his manhood brought pleasure to Hampsher’s entirety. Sexually inclined, she was certain that Rafeeq wasn’t prepared for what it was she had in store for him. Frankly, it was all for her satisfaction. None of it, not one bit, was for his.