by Desean Rambo
*CLICK* “Hello this is… never mind you know who it is. Call me back!” *CLICK*
That was about all I expected to get out of him, Mr. Good-Looking-With-No-Brain. Still, he intrigued me. There was something about him that was untamed and rough around the edges. I yearned to explore. I took a minute to compose myself and stop blushing before I called back.
“Hello?” he said. It sounded like he may be asleep or confused. He probably forgot he left the message in the first place.
“Hey, this is Kate.”
“Katie! Kate. Yeah!” He perked right up. He seemed overly excited for some reason.
“So you called?” I said.
“Yeah. Sorry about the delay,” he replied.
“I thought you forgot about little old me,” I said. “What were you doing? Talking to your other chicks?” I teased.
“Yeah. I had a fight with the baby momma,” he joked.
“You have kids?” I replied.
“Nah. Nah,” he said.
“But you said baby momma…” I responded.
“Yeah. I’m a doggie daddy. My ex took my dog. Long story,” he explained. It was actually kind of refreshing to hear that a big burly dude like that would show that kind of affection for a puppy.
“Ok. I see. How cute. What are you doing now?” I asked.
“Waiting for you,” he said. There was a twinge of intrigue in his voice. Was Bradley Cooper inviting me over for a nightcap? He continued. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m driving home from a friend’s house.”
“Perfect. I’ll text you the address.” He immediately hung up. He knew what he wanted and didn’t beat around the bush. I could feel my body temperature boil. I decided why not get it popping? No one would know and technically, Justin and I were still separated. Besides, the dangerous stranger always has an extra aura of sexiness around him.
A minute later, the text came in with the address. It was really close to the direction I was already heading. This was too perfect.
I pulled over and ran into a Walgreens on the way over. I had to run into the ladies’ room to get myself together. I adjusted my makeup and hair to make sure it was on point before I continued. I made sure the girls were plunging out underneath the sweater. I wanted to look not just hot but hawt. I needed him to want to devour me as soon as he laid eyes on me.
I bought a pack of gum and some lip gloss, then ran back to the car. What was I doing? I was crazy. My physical needs were controlling me but at this point, I no longer cared. This wasn’t going to be a serious thing. This was a onetime thing that both of us clearly wanted.
The address was about six blocks from the Walgreens. I drove over to the small community lined with townhomes everywhere. It had limited parking and only a few streetlights. James stayed in a skinny little townhome sandwiched between two other identical ones. It was almost midnight and I was dolled up and ready to go. I called him to let him know I was outside before parking in a neighbor’s spot and tiptoeing to his door.
He flicked on his light and peeked out the adjacent window. I could see the light line his jaw so slightly, the brown beard sticking out. He smiled then opened the door. He had on a plain white Hanes T-shirt and dark pants.
“What’s up, Miss Jones?” he said. His spot was nice for being so small. There were black granite countertops, brand new appliances, and matching dark furniture complete with red and gold accent pieces around. He had great taste, or a girlfriend.
“Why are you calling Miss Jones?” I asked.
“Cleopatra Jones. You remind me of her. Have you ever seen that movie?”
“No,” I said. I was familiar with it, but I’m not sure why he knew that. I wasn’t expecting that reference from a guy like him. “Nice place,” I continued.
“Do you want the tour?” he said. I knew that would end in his bedroom, which my nerves weren’t ready for yet. I knew what I wanted, because the perspiration was starting to build.
“In a minute. How do you know Cleopatra Jones?” I asked.
“Foxy Brown,” he responded. “I was a big fan of hers. I watched all those movies back in the day.” He turned to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of champagne. “You want a drink?”
“I’m good,” I said. “One. I’ll take one,” I corrected myself. Alcohol wouldn’t hurt anything at this point. “So you like black girls?” I inquired as he poured our drinks.
“I love women,” he responded. It was the typical answer. He wasn’t about to get in the cookie jar without admitting he wanted some chocolate.
I pressed him playfully. “But do you typically go for black girls?”
“I’ve been with black girls before,” he said. “I never had a problem with any woman as long as she’s cool. Black girls are fine by me,” he joked. “Truth be told, you don’t even know who Cleopatra Jones is. I’m not even sure you’re black right now.” James had a bit of soul to him. It was obvious he had to have grown up around a lot of black people.
“What’s your background?” he asked as he slid me my glass. We stood in his tiny kitchen now, face to face as we sipped.
“I’m black,” I replied.
“I know that, but where are your people from?” he asked again.
“I don’t really know. I think some are from Haiti or Jamaica, and the rest were brought over here from Africa.”
He nodded. “I can see the Jamaican.”
“How so?” I asked.
“It’s all in your hips and your ass.” He smirked. “Can you dutty wine?”
“No!” I laughed. “Hold on. This is too good. I have to show you.” He grabbed his phone out of the wall charger. His lock screen was his puppy, a miniature pinscher with black fur and light brown patches.
“Aww. You must really love your dog,” I commented.
“You don’t even know,” he said. “My ex is keeping me from him. We bought him together but when it ended, she decided she was going to get at me by using him. One day she just told me straight up, buy another puppy. Eff that. That’s my man. I’m going to get him back.” The passion in his voice was amazing.
“Awww,” I said.
“Crazy ass white girl, in case you’re wondering,” he added. “The sex was bomb, but she was a headcase. I should have seen it coming. Anyways, on to what we were doing. You are about to learn how to dutty wine!”
He browsed YouTube on his phone for a minute before loading up a Sean Paul song, Temperature. It played through the phone speakers, filling the silence in the little kitchen.
I got the right temperature to turn you onnnnnnn ooooooh
James moved in close. His brown eyes were inches from my face, the Superman jaw just as close. He grabbed me by the hips, his rough and callused hands pressing into the flesh exposed by the bottom of my sweater.
“You have to move your hips like this,” he said as he twisted me from side to side. “You have to go with the beat.”
I breathed in deeply as he pressed against me, firmer and firmer. I moved my hips to the beat. He was so slick. He knew exactly what he was doing. He glanced down as my chest bounced with each pound of the beat. He looked deep into my eyes and smirked.
“Am I doing it ri-” He put his finger on my lips to cut me off.
“Shhh…” He pulled me close to his massive, warm body and kissed me deeply. I closed my eyes and melted. The tall, beautiful stranger gripped me tighter and tighter as we kissed deeper and deeper.
I felt his warm hands make their way underneath my sweater. He grazed his hands up my side, exploring more and more flesh. His right hand slid over my bra and grazed the bulging breast tissue. Things were getting hot and heavy. My body temperature was rising. Other things were rising as well. I stopped him.
“How about you give me the official tour?” I said. We both knew where it was heading.
He pulled back and smiled. “Sure.”
He quickly led me around the little townhouse as he pointed out little mementos. He was
a big fan of lacrosse, not that it mattered. It was interesting to see his framed photos and ticket stubs from events he went to in the past. It was also more comforting to know he wasn’t just some strange man who fixed things and picked up girls.
He led me up a narrow staircase to his master bedroom. Once again, it was very fashionable for a man. The red sheets matched all of the accents in the home along with the pillows. James sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his phone back out.
“Is this what you do for every girl?” I asked.
“What?”
“Get them in your room and then play YouTube videos?” I teased.
“Oh. Nah. Nah. I was trying to pull something up on my phone,” he said.
Yes. With a hot and bothered female standing two feet in front of him, in his own bedroom with nipples poking out of her sweater, this guy was seriously checking his phone. I never gave him credit for being the smartest man that I met, but I was here for a reason and that wouldn’t be denied. I sat down on the bed next to him.
“Why’d you invite me over?” I hinted.
“Because I wanted to see you,” he said. “Texting and everything is fine, but I like being around a person. You know, being able to see them, smell them, touch them…”
“I totally agree,” I said. His eyes were still locked on that darn phone. I couldn’t see the screen. Whatever he was doing, he was totally enthralled.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just wait one minute…” James replied.
“Come on...” I said as I grabbed his arm. I squeezed his strong biceps and began rubbing on his shoulder.
“One second…” he continued. I started to smell the nape of his neck and rub on his chest as he ignored me for the glow of his phone. He hopped off the bed.
“I’ll be right back. I can’t get a damn connection with this stupid WiFi box. You can take your shoes off. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
James disappeared out the room and plodded down the stairs to the first floor. I was not about to be ignored for a WiFi connection. I decided to take things to another level.
“Which door is your bathroom?” I yelled down.
“If you’re in the room, it’s the first door to your left!” he yelled back at me.
I went into the bathroom to freshen up. Again, the bathroom was meticulously clean and everything matched. All of the assorted product bottles were lined perfectly down the sink, sorted by color and size. That was when I realized he didn’t have a girlfriend. He had OCD.
I slipped out of my clothes and got down to my bra and panties. I loved the way the black lace accented my rich brown skin. I was ready to go the distance. That’s when I heard it.
“Got it working! Yes!” James elated. The smooth sounds of Kenny G faintly played from his phone then suddenly got louder. I walked out of the room to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with the music dock for his phone.
“Sorry about tha-” he started as he heard the door swing open. The sight of me in my bra and panties caught him off guard. He dropped whatever he was about to say. I straddled him on the edge of the bed and gave him a long, deep kiss. He gave no resistance as we fell backwards on the bed with me on top.
His big hands grabbed my bulging breasts as they popped out of the black lace. I pulled off my bra as we moved deeper and deeper into the fondling and caressing. Next, slipped off his T-shirt and grabbed his hard, pumped chest. We dry humped as things got heavy in a hurry. He slipped his pants off and threw them off the bed as I continued to attack him with kisses and grabs. It was exactly what I needed. He was standing at full attention. I felt his big hands reaching for my panties. I stopped him. It was too soon. Things were getting hot but we weren’t there yet.
“I just met you,” I whispered to him.
“I know,” he said.
He didn’t get the hint. I had to spell it out to him in between the kissing and touching. “Get a condom.”
He slid off the bed on command and went to the bathroom. He went through the medicine cabinet before reappearing and going through the drawers in his room.
“Let me run downstairs,” he said.
Not now, I thought. I didn’t want to wait for him to run to the store. I heard him rumbling through more cabinets and drawers. I laid back and closed my eyes to stay in the moment as Kenny G played softly from the dock.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
My phone was going off. I reached down to pull it from my pants on the bedroom floor. It was Tricia calling. Crap. She thought I was still out with Justin. If I didn’t pick up, she was going to think something was wrong and blow my spot up. I had no choice. I picked up the phone and whispered into the speaker.
“Hello?”
“Girl, where are you? You said you’d call me when you get in!” Tricia yelled at me like she was my mother.
“I’m going home,” I said. She could read me too well. We’ve known each other far too long. She saw straight through the crap.
“Kate, where are you? Who are you with?” Tricia yelled back.
“I’m with a friend,” I said.
“Who?” she queried.
“You don’t know him,” I answered. “I’m alright, now chill.”
“Girl, you are over at a strange man’s house at this hour? Where is Justin? What happened to the date?” Tricia asked.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. I could hear James still fumbling around downstairs and getting closer to the stairs. I tried to rush her off the phone. “I told you I’m fine. Let it go. I will talk to you later.”
“Kate, don’t do anything you are going to regret later. You said you wanted to go out with your husband, not some new piece of meat.”
I could hear James coming up the stairs. Tricia was right. This was wrong.
“Ok girl. I have to go.” I quickly hung up on her and grabbed my clothes. By the time James made it to the room, I was already fully dressed.
“What’s going on?” he asked. He was still empty handed, which meant this wasn’t going to work anyway. I realized what I was about to do. It finally hit me. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. Who was I right now? Tears streamed down my face. How could I be so willing to break my vows so easily? I barely knew this man.
“I have a family emergency. I’m sorry. I have to go.” I ran down the stairs in a hurry and out the door. I quickly hopped in my car and pulled away from that huge mistake.
6
“Girl, what in God’s green earth go into you?” Tricia asked as she sipped her mocha Frappuccino.
I decided to drive down to meet up with her at Starbucks. I badly needed someone to talk to. I sipped a tall Red Bull and thumbed through O Magazine. I know I looked a mess. My makeup was done quickly. My hair needed to be pressed and my work clothes were all wrinkled after the hour-long drive.
“I don’t even know,” I started. “Nothing even makes sense anymore.”
“I mean, where did you meet this man?” Tricia asked.
“At a gas station,” I replied. She rolled her eyes.
“Let me guess, was he white?” she asked.
“Yes,” I confessed. “And fine. But that has nothing to do with it. I’m real weak right now. It’s been five months girl, five months!”
“But you’re married. You know you can’t be going around in these streets like that!” Tricia snapped back at me. She was right. She always had a way of saying something in plain English that made perfect sense. “Besides, do you know what is in these streets? Stay married, girl.”
“Wait, weren’t you just warning me about going back to him?” I said.
“Yes. You can’t forget what happened but if he has a mental illness, that’s something you can work with him on. If he’s getting treatment, that’s completely different than when you didn’t know he had problems,” she responded.
“Wait, what? I lost you,” I said.
“I’m saying if he has been diagnosed and knows h
ow to control it, that’s different than when you both had no idea what was going on,” she said again.
“So you’re saying I should go back? After one date?” I asked.
“No. I’m saying if you want to stay married, you BOTH now have PTSD. In sickness and health,” she responded. “You getting your panties wet with some new man isn’t going to change the fact that eventually, you have to face the decision of whether you want to deal with Justin’s condition or not.”
“I got you. But he was so fine! Sometimes in life you want to let go!” I said.
“Then get a divorce. You might as well have a clean break if you want to put your kitty cat in the streets like that!” Tricia yelled.
I was starting to get embarrassed. People in the Starbucks were eavesdropping and giving me weird looks. I grabbed Patricia by the arm and whispered loudly at her. “Why do you have to be so loud?”
“My bad, girl!” She smiled. “It’s all love. You know that. I know you aren’t trying to be in the streets like that. We all have needs, but yours should be tamed with some double A batteries while you’re still legally married.”
I sipped my Red Bull. “Girl you don’t understand,” I said. “He was so swole, strong and aggressive. He was such a man.”
Tricia laughed at my excitement. “Well, did he at least eat the…”
“Oops! I showed up at the wrong time!” A familiar voice cut into the conversation. “But if that’s on the menu, I’ll put this coffee back.” We looked up. It was Rashon.
Tricia laughed out loud as she stood to hug her friend. “You’re so crazy!”
He joined us at our round table of gossip. “Hey, Kate.”
“What’s up?” I said to him.
“What did I walk in on?” Rashon asked.
“Wait, what are you doing here?” Tricia cut back.
“I come here to pick up beautiful women such as yourselves, of course,” he joked. “I have some time to kill and I like to spend it people watching. I just walked in. What were ya’ll up to?”
“We are having girl talk,” I said.
“You want me to leave?” he asked as he pulled out his phone.
“You’re fine,” I said. It didn’t matter at this point. He already knew I had issues.
Rashon browsed the internet on his phone as he continued. “So what’s the dilemma? You can’t find an extremely handsome single man to go out with tonight?”
Tricia cackled with laughter. “That would be easy in comparison.”
Rashon grunted. He was in his own world. I decided to let him in since he was one of Tricia’s close buddies and he kind of already knew me. “My husband has PTSD.”
Rashon’s head popped up. “You’re married? I am going to need something stronger.”
“Separated. There was an incident. I haven’t decided if I should go back or not,” I said.
“That explains a lot,” he responded.
“Yeah… sorry about that. I didn’t know how to tell you,” I replied.
He popped his head back up from his phone. “All I know is that if you’re relying on this one for relationship advice, something’s definitely wrong.”
“Hmmph.” Tricia grunted at him.
“Let’s be honest here. Patricia, you suck with relationship advice,” Rashon said. “You set me up with a married woman.”
I cut him off. “It’s ok. You shouldn’t have any problem with the ladies anyways. Don’t let me make you think anything’s wrong with you.”
“She likes white guys,” Tricia blurted out.
“Patricia!” I snapped at her.
Rashon threw his hands in the air. “See what I mean! Patricia, you’re the worst!”
“You’re a man. Let me ask your opinion on something,” Patricia said. “Would you mess with another woman if you were separated?”
Rashon looked at his phone for a minute as he thought about the question. He didn’t know what I was going through but I was on edge to hear his opinion regardless.
“By ‘mess with’, what exactly do you mean?” It was the typical man response.
“I mean all the way,” Tricia said. “Penetration!” People started looking at our table again. I was beginning to blush. Patricia couldn’t help but draw attention to us.
“That’s complicated,” he responded.
“That means yes,” I cut back at him.
He tried to clean up his answer. “I mean, separation is difficult. It depends on your relationship. It also depends on how much time has passed. If you’re totally cut off from your partner, I would think they’d expect you to eventually get it somewhere.”
Tricia blasted Rashon. “Don’t take her side. She isn’t going to let you hit!” Her volume now also embarrassed him.
“Ok ladies,” he said as he excused himself from the table with a big smile. “I’m going to get out of here before I catch a sexual harassment case.” He gave Tricia and me a quick hug before he disappeared.