Sunday, August 5, 2012
Tricey
When I saw that it was Blood calling, I stopped everything; took my focus away from the wholesale website that I was shopping at to buy more stock for the boutique and turned all my attentions to Blood’s call.
“Hey, babe!”
“Hey you.”
Something was up. Blood had been in Dallas for over a week now. About a year ago, Devin, his right hand man, and Devin’s girlfriend, Iyana, went missing along with five hundred thousand dollars. It was then when Blood started to make all of his runs himself, along with the only other person left that he trusted, Lucky, his cousin. Because of this, he spent a couple of days out of town every few weeks. But this time, it was different. A couple of days had turned into over a week. Every time I talked to him, he sounded more and more agitated and upset.
“What’s going on? When are you coming home?”
“In a few days.”
Instantly, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Yeah, something definitely was up. But, because of his current attitude, I wasn’t going to force the issue.
Yet, I hated for anything to be wrong at a time like this. Things had been going great! Though Devin had gone missing, Blood took it much better than I expected. His once
right hand man and best friend, Shon, was murdered a few years ago. That crushed him. So, when Devin robbed him and left, I just knew that I was going to have to make Blood go to therapy or commit him to an insane asylum. Yet, he took it all in stride, kept his business going, and trimmed down his camp to minimal people, most being family.
“In a few days,” I repeated in my sweetest, flirtatious voice. “You promise?”
With a heavy sigh, he answered, “Promise.” His tone was so questionable and bleak, and he totally ignored my attempts to be cute and flirty. “How are the businesses going?”
Though Blood spoke of going legit, as I expected, he hadn’t. I couldn’t complain, though, because I was being taken care of like never before. We had so much money that we were starting to do stupid things with it; buying multiples of something because we forgot that we already bought it, taking trips to Jamaica, Mexico, and Italy on a regular, popping unnecessary amounts of bottles in the club, and buying this and that luxury vehicle. I even had to quit my job at the hospital to help out more. Now, I managed most of Blood’s legal businesses; the properties, the auto store, and the boutique. Usually, I spent most of my time at the boutique and managed Dubz R Us and the properties over the phone, while stopping in about once or twice a week when Blood couldn’t.
The boutique, Latrice Monaè, was located in Beverly, right off of 95th and Kedzie. We opened seven months ago. We sold mostly women’s fashion; dresses, tops, jeans, leggings, shoes, purses, accessories, you name it. Of course, I
carried a lot of True Religion, Trukfit, Gucci, amongst other brands, for men.
Basically, I spent my time buying for the boutique. We had two employees who worked the floor. I made sure that we carried the finest labels in shoes and handbags and latest trends in clothes; especially leggings and dresses.
Vic helped me out a lot. She needed the part-time work to help with bills. It was nice to have her around to keep me company a few days a week.
After leaving the boutique, I met Lyric at her place. She and her man, Marcel, were going out that night. It was their six month anniversary and she wanted to look super cute, so I brought over some things for her to try on from the boutique.
I was sitting in her room on her bed drinking a glass of wine and answering dry, whack ass text messages from Blood while I waited for Lyric to come out of the bathroom wearing the first dress that I picked for her.
“I wish Blood was here so that you all could come with us,” I heard her say from the other side of the bathroom door.
“I wish he was too, but it’s your anniversary, so the two of you should be alone and enjoy each other’s company.”
“But Marcel invited you guys. You know he loves you and thinks Blood is cool as hell.”
Even when she spoke Marcel’s name, she sounded happy as a sissy with a bag of dicks. I was just as happy for her. Though she loved James, loved him too much if you ask me, I could tell that Marcel loved her differently; so differently that the happiness that she exuded was much more content and serene.
However, it’s only been six months, so let’s see.
Lyric came out of the bathroom doing a playful runway walk towards the bed, arrived at my feet, and did a twirl.
She looked cute in the black lace satin knee length dress with lace inserts around her waist, but it didn’t stand out like she or I wanted her to.
“That’s cute. Try on the other ones, though.”
Lyric agreed. As she walked back into the bathroom, she asked, “Did you find out what was going on with Blood? Why he’s been gone so long?”
I smacked my lips and rolled my eyes at the thought. “Girl, no. And every time I talk to him, he is so damn agitated, so I am scared to even bring up any bullshit. I don’t want to piss him off further by forcing the issue.”
Lyric giggled as she asked, “What you do to him?”
“Nothing!”
And that was the honest to God truth! Things had been great between me and Blood. Last year, shit had hit the fan between us because my baby’s father, Amiel, wanted to act a whole fool; mainly because he wanted to get back with me. I should have never slept with him without telling him that I was in a relationship. However, a few weeks after Blood took his hot headed ass over to Amiel’s house to confront him about taking me to court for custody and the punk ass nigga called himself tricking on me by telling Blood that he and I had sex, Amiel canceled the custody hearing and has been very cooperative with sharing custody of Ariana.
I assume Blood scared Amiel straight.
Luckily, I was able to lie my way out of Amiel accusing me of infidelity by swearing up and down to Blood that Amiel was just trying to make things worse because he wanted to be with me.
And since God blessed me with yet another opportunity to get out of my lying and cheating with my relationship intact, I hadn’t had the nerve to do anything but be appreciative of my man and keep my cookies to myself and Blood.
As my mind raced, Lyric’s door intercom bell started to ring.
“Are you expecting somebody? Is that Marcel?”
“It shouldn’t be,” Lyric answered from inside of the bathroom. “Marcel isn’t suppose to be here until seven. Can you see who that is for me?”
I hopped up from the bed and scooted into the living room before the intercom stopped ringing. Before I could reach it, there was a round of knocks on the door. I assumed that Lyric’s visitor had been let into the building by someone else that was coming in as well.
Then whoever it was knocking started to sing a bad version of Tech N9ne’s Let Me In:
♫ Let me in the door!
If you say you hear me knockin, what you standin there for?
Who I gotta kill or sleep with, Cause I'm the world's best kept secret!
(Let me in) Let me in the door! ♫
I squealed in delight. Before even recognizing his voice, I knew that this could only be Cory’s foolishness. I was so happy to see him! He had been MIA for months.
I opened the door and his overtly feminine personality came barging in; dancing and voguing while chanting, “What’s the T? Now tell me what’s the T?!”
“Hey beau!”
As we hugged, I could hear Lyric running into the living room. “Is that Cory?!”
Cory and I were already heading towards her bedroom, so we bumped into Lyric in the hall, who was halfway into a maxi dress.
They quickly hugged and then, as we got back cozy inside of the bedroom, Lyric immediately started checking Cory. “So you actually remember where I live?”
“Shut up, wench.”
She ignored his insults with a laugh. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
Cory knew that he had been MIA for the las
t eight months. That’s when he met Kadeem, his new boyfriend.
Since I’ve known Cory, he had never had a steady boyfriend. I assumed that it was because Cory liked very masculine and rough men. Usually a man like that is straight or in the closet. In addition, a lot of Black men didn’t want their sexuality obvious to the public. If you’re a man hanging around Cory’s feminine ass, you are basically outing yourself. So, Cory had a hard time dating.
Therefore, I was so happy for him when Lyric told me that he had finally met this man, who he claimed was just what he wanted; a man’s man with sexually attractive thug appeal that drove him crazy and aroused him to no end.
“Stop playing, Lyric,” Cory whined with a sigh. “I came over because I wanted to surprise you… Surprise!”
Cory sounded and looked like he was obviously being sarcastic. Under this layer of sarcasm and dramatics, I saw unusual sadness. He was always bubbly and the life of the party, so to see such sadness in his eyes concerned me.
“What’s wrong, beau?”
He exhaled dramatically, as if he was just waiting for somebody to ask him that. “I need to talk! I got some T for y’all, and I really need you to listen and not judge me.”
Lyric replied, “No problem. You know I would never judge you.”
Then I chimed in, “Exactly.”
When Cory sighed and took some time to speak, that made me nervous. My heart started to beat rapidly because it looked like something was really bothering him.
“Okay, I have a confession. I have been so MIA because, yes, I am with Kadeem and, yes, I am very happy, but I haven’t been honest about our relationship…. He’s married.”
Lyric let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, is that it?! I thought you were about to lay something heavier than that on us!”
“He’s married to a woman, Lyric.”
I soaked in the information and tried to carefully choose my words. Lyric looked as if she were doing the same.
Yet, before me or Lyric could speak, Cory filled the silence. “At first, I didn’t care. I thought it would just end up being a fling. But now it hurts like hell, and I don’t know what to do. Our relationship is a secret on so many levels for so many different reasons. Not only do we have to hide from his wife, but we have to hide because no one knows that he’s gay.”
Lyric was trying to hide her disappointment. I could tell that she was trying to pick the right words to say. “Cory, it’s not like you to hide any part of who you are.”
Kadeem being married to a woman was fucked up, but I was more upset that Cory had belittled himself to having to hide who he was. Cory is a proud homosexual. He didn’t hide from anyone. He would whoop ass and take names if anyone dared make him hide or change who he was.
“I know, girl, but I love this man so much. He is everything that I have ever wanted.”
“No, he’s not, because you wanted someone that was yours, and he is not yours,” I told him.
When Cory fell silent, I felt like there was more. He sounded too down in the dumps for this to be something that he’s had full knowledge of for eight months. “Cory, did something happen?”
“Nothing in particular, but I have this gut feeling that something isn’t right.”
Lyric snapped. “Of course something isn’t right! He’s married!”
“Fuck his wife! I’m not talking about her. Hell, he spends so much time with me that he can’t be fucking her. He hates her. That marriage is just a costume to hide his gay.”
I started to immediately disagree. Then I quickly thought about how we swore Amiel was full of shit when he said his marriage was over, until I talked to his wife for myself and she said the same.
“I think the motherfucker got the nerve to be cheating on us.”
I was confused. “Us? Who is us?”
“Me and his wife. That motherfucka is cheating on us!”
Lyric and I giggled, and finally Cory did too.
“I don’t know what to do! I am so head over heels for that man that I don’t want to start a fight, but I be damned if I share him with another motherfucka. What should I do?”
I was a little tongue tied. How do you ask your man if he’s cheating on you with someone besides his wife? But since Cory was obviously taking this to heart, I decided to be serious. “What do you want to do, Cory?”
“I wanna find out who the motherfucka is so I can cut the bitch!”
LYRIC
I chose the tangerine banded strap accent silky bandage dress.
I was a sucker for a bandage dress because it accented my long legs and big breasts. With its waist detail and curve hugging fit, it gave me a little more ass too.
Plus, I knew that Daddy would love the color on me.
Just as expected and as always, he was at my place exactly at the time he said he would be- seven o’clock. Daddy never kept me waiting and always kept his word.
I stood on the other side of the door nervously; patting my hair to make sure that there wasn’t a strand out of place.
It was important to me that when I opened that door, he liked what he saw.
As the door opened and he laid eyes on me, he smiled in approval. Tenderly, he grabbed the back of my head and kissed my forehead.
“Hey, baby,” I spoke to him.
With no words and without returning the greeting, he slid his hand up my leg. It was cold to the touch, so it sent chills through me.
When he felt bare skin as he reached my ass, he smiled and nodded.
“Good girl.” He hated for me to wear panties. “You ready?”
I nodded immediately, and, after turning off the lights and grabbing my clutch, I followed him out of the house hand in hand.
Though it was our six month anniversary and something to very much be celebrated, tonight felt like any night out with him because since we met, we had been as close and intimate as any married couple- maybe even more.
I met Marcel at a lifestyle event a few months after me and James broke up. I had finally got over the hump of breaking up with him and was ready to get back out onto the scene. Though at first James’ whoreish ways had left a bad taste in my life for the lifestyle, I realized that I shouldn’t let James keep me away from something that had helped define me and mold me into the woman that I was.
Marcel was there with one of his buddies, who was a full-fledged swinger, married, and looking at me like I was that evening’s full course meal. I’m not a swinger, and that’s what I told him. When I explained to him that I was only bisexual, had threesomes here and there, and wasn’t a swinger because I couldn’t fathom sleeping with another man in front of my man, Marcel seemed to light up like a Christmas tree as he sat at the table watching our conversation.
Marcel and I eventually sparked conversation once his friend walked away to hound some other woman. Marcel then shared with me that he wasn’t a swinger either, but definitely lived an alternative lifestyle. He was a Dom and, admittedly, I formed the notion in the back of my mind that, despite him being sexy as hell, I would never go any further with him than light friendly conversation over drinks.
At the word Dom, I immediately thought of whips, chains, and paddles; something that I am not particularly into. Yet, over the weeks that our friendship blossomed, and I learned more about him and his character, I understood the difference in the stigma that I knew as a Dom and who he actually was, a Daddy Dom.
Compared to a Dom in the BDSM world, Marcel taught me that Daddy Doms are the gentlest type of Dom. Versus spanking, whips, and chains, in a dominance and submission relationship, Daddy Doms are more concerned with their Submissive’s goals and needs; not spanking or torturing her. They are a fountain of information for their Submissive and give information and training on things such as career advice, money, and life itself. They cherish their Submissive and are happy to watch her grow into a better woman. They are always in control of themselves so that they are then able to take control in the relationship. They are dominant, stern, and demanding, but will alw
ays be there for their Submissive.
Because of his dominance and strength, Marcel was able to will me into this relationship no matter my hesitance with his choice of lifestyle. However, I quickly learned that I would have never been able to be willed had I not naturally been a submissive. Naturally, I had been submissive to every man that I fell in love with. I cooked, cleaned, and gave everything to Bradley. Yet, I wasn’t comfortable in that relationship, so I cheated, because he didn’t know all of me. I gave everything to James, even pussy that wasn’t mine, and it was nothing to me, because naturally I was submissive to whatever his heart desired. Yet, he took advantage of that and hurt me. Marcel, being a Daddy Dom, treated me like a princess because my submission was a gift to him. He praised it and honored it. In turn, I loved him for praising and honoring me.
Initially the word “Daddy” freaked me out, but Marcel taught me that there is a big difference between a father and a “Daddy” used as a title in a dominant/submissive relationship. When Marcel first told me the term, I cringed as it made me think of my own father. But quickly I learned that this type of man and relationship had nothing to do with pedophilia or incest. The feeling I got when calling him Daddy was nothing like the feeling when speaking of my biological father. Yet, as a Daddy Dom, he took that parental role as the dominant man in my life; protecting, guiding, and nurturing me. His demands were never ridiculous or for his own pleasure. They were always to help some aspect of me grow.
I could be submissive to him with no restraint because I was more stable when I was with him. He held me and told me that I was a good girl. When I made a mistake, he taught me how to do better. I had an innocence and simplicity about me when I was with him that did not exist when he wasn’t around. He was comforting, when I was accustom to being the comforter. He took all responsibility that I couldn’t handle and made me know that it is his job to handle it. He made me feel that the safest place is with him; in his arms. He was always ready to hear my wants and needs.
I had never felt so secure in my life.
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 85