"I'm not marrying the woman. You remember, I'm only here for a month."
"Sometimes, it takes less time than that," he mumbles.
"Know why I picked her?" teases Cheryl.
"No," I reply a bit too loud.
"Because she's not average, not basic, and not what's usually in your orbit. That one will challenge you, make you see things beyond the expensive rose-tinted windows in your golden palace. Hopefully, it will cure you of the disease of privilege."
"Well, you've gotten my say in all this," states Ray.
"That only makes me want to fuck you off." I wait till his laughter dies down. "Let me see if I'm back at square one," I say, standing.
"Make the offer worth her while, " Ray suggests, glaring me in the eyes.
CHIONE
My head is spinning. Even still, I’ve got to play it cool. I have only one shot and I don't want to fuck it up. I can give two shits that I was unknowingly a part of a bet. That ain't nothing new in a place like this. All it did was open the door to put me in a position to make a few bucks for myself. I wish to God Cheryl would have given me a bigger hint than telling me the rules and objective of the bet. With that info, I've been running over in my mind, replaying everything I've done and said to give me a clue as to why I’d won it for her?
"Shit! Here he comes," I whisper.
I only allow myself to sweat his movements while he's a bit away. The cover of the fog-filled, black room hides the fact that my gaze is on him. It's enough, though. The man is fuckin’ gorgeous. I'm not one to use metaphors, but the image of a tiger or black panther comes to mind because of the smoothness of his steps in combination of the muscles under his tailored clothes. He waves off the hands that tug at him to stop his mission. By the time he reaches me, I pray I have my shit together. I don't mind selling the pussy, but I don't think playing that card is the best way to go. I am not twerking and working the pole, and I'm not half as pretty as the females in the club, but his interest is in me. Nah, I'll save that for last. It's an offer I know I won't have a problem making.
"You could have sent for me to come back up."
My nervousness has me talking first as I try to clean the polish from the bar with the force I'm scrubbing.
"The party is just about over," he announces.
"Oh…" Shit, is there a hint of sadness in my tone? Okay, don't look so damn hungry. "I'll get your tab."
"Hold up. I said the party is over. I didn't say I'm ready to leave."
That's when I dare to steal a glance. I go still suddenly at the sight of blood sprayed on the front of his pale blue shirt. Glancing at his hands, his knuckles are cut and bruised.
"Jesus, you didn't have to smear ketchup on your clothes. I would give you a drink on the house without the dramatics," I joke.
"Fuck, I can't win with you. I thought defending your honor would have won some points," he teases.
"Did you knock out a tooth?"
"Three," he corrects.
"Wow! That’s a point per tooth, so three."
"I know he'll have a black eye and a cracked rib or two," he adds in a rush.
"Well, the ribs can't be confirmed, but I'll give you an extra two points for the eye and one point for the swollen mouth."
"Okay, so that's…" He pauses. "Six total."
"That will get you another whiskey on the house," I offer as I make for the bottle.
"Wait!" he shouts over the music. "I can pay for my shit. I wanna use my points in another way."
His comment has my heart about to leap out of my chest. Okay, now I can play this either way. I could switch on the red light and put on the slut act. Or I can play it safe and normal to make him work for the kitty if that's his end game.
I allow a deep frown to settle on my face. After strolling over, I come back to stand in the spot I just left.
"What? Why?"
"Spend the day with me tomorrow."
"Oh, management warns us about men like you."
"I doubt management has come in contact with men like me." He smiles.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask with a head tilt.
"Meaning the entertainment usually comes to me in a very private setting."
"Gotcha." I nod, slowly. "I have to sleep. Then I wake up to work on my side job for a few hours before coming back to the club, so I can't—”
"I'm having a private party. Since I like your bartending style, I want to hire you. Your boss is happy with the fee I'm paying to let you off."
"You just came up with that just now?" I wonder.
"Nah, I worked it out before coming down here. I'll even pay you under the table on top of what your boss promised to give you as your cut."
"My cut, huh?" I chuckle. My ass won't see none of that money. I'm sure he knew that already too. "I'll make my own way to the party," I say at last.
"If you want to be that way, fine with me. What's your numb—”
"The address and time?" I ask as I pull out a pen and napkin to write on.
His cell phone in hand hovers over the bar as he stares. Slowly, he slips it back into his coat pocket while he rattles off the information.
"I'll be on time," I promise as I fold the napkin carefully to place deep down in my front pocket. No fuckin’ way I was losing it. "Did you want that drink?"
"No. Just give me the tab."
I can't help but notice the confusion in his eyes. Yes, well played. I've just given him a puzzle that he's trying to figure out. Just as long as I keep him interested without him figuring out too much, he just might be the luck I've been praying for.
2
SHAHID
I know today is going to be an annoying one. The frown on my face has nothing to do with the blinding sun reflecting off the freshly-laid, black roads. For the life of me, I can’t understand what the fuck Chione is thinking. Then again, it is said that bookish people have no common sense, and I’m wondering the amount this woman has in her little head.
Although the guards were discreet, I could hear the fear in the man’s voice. I had already given them the head’s up that I was due a visitor. The men at the gate were known to be high-handed and downright racist when it came to people of color entering the exclusive residence. That wasn’t the issue that jumped off. It was in the manner that Chione had shown up.
“Mr. Chadli, sir, we regret to disturb you at such an early hour, but there’s a situation at the gate.”
Tossing the sweat-soaked towel to the floor, I ask, “Did you get the visitor’s information?”
“Yes, yes, sir. Thank you for that, by the way. It makes our job much easier. Um, actually, the information has checked out. Well, it’s the way she came here. We can’t let her through the gate.”
Hand on my hip, I narrow my gaze. What the hell is he going on about?
“Did she pull up in a bright pink Cadillac with 15-inch spinning rims, thumping bass? Is that what you’re trying to say?” I ask in a low, menacing tone.
“No, no, sir. Please don’t think I’m attempting to make waves like that. It’s well…she has no car,” he explains in a muffled voice. “She rode a bus and walked the six miles to the property. We can’t have her wandering the community like that. I’m not racist, but I can’t say the same about many of the others calling cops on people they deem to stand out,” he finishes, choosing his words, wisely.
Navigating through the community of multi-million dollar homes, I’m making my way to the entrance. I never understood the allure of why my brother bought into this shitty-ass place. Most of these people could suck on my hairy balls if they thought they were going to tell me what to do. I mean you buy a home just to be watched and told by a board of self-important people what you can or cannot do. What the hell for? If I want to place Christmas lights on my house, they can be the color that I fuckin’ want. If I want to host a party that goes on until 3’o’clock in the morning, shut the fuck up, close your eyes, and mind your own business. Don’t get me started on the golf cart bulls
hit. You have a car, but you scoot around on those tricked-out carts. What the fuck for? It’s hot as hell outside.
After rolling to a stop, I wait for the exiting arm to lift, drive through, bust a U-turn to pull up to the guard’s office.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I pass the man a crisp fifty-dollar bill for handling the situation.
“No problem,” he nods, but he pockets my money just the same.
Stepping to the side, he slides the glass door wider. A heartbeat later, Chione strolls out. In spite of the fact that I’m pissed, I can’t help but take note of her transformation. There’s nothing that can be done about the greasy sheen of her face, but it does nothing to demise her beauty. Gone are the afro puffs from last night. The stifling breeze picks up the wavy locks of what I’m guessing is a high-dollar wig. I smirk knowing the hair she has glued down and edges gelled in a swirl pattern once belonged to the women of my region. My gaze trails down her shapely form as she walks with pride in front of the car. Quickly, I reposition my hard-on in time so she doesn’t see it.
“Good morning.” She smiles, getting in.
“Hum,” is all I say while I put the car into motion.
“Nice neighborhood.”
I can tell she’s much more impressed than what she’s letting on.
“You couldn’t Uber?”
“The bus is cheaper. I didn’t think about the walk or being stopped. Sorry.”
“That’s why I wanted to pick you up,” I grumble.
A shrug of her shoulder was her reply. I’m not crazy to think her home is on the level as one of these, but now, I wanna know what level her every day really is. I bite the side of my mouth to keep the question from being spoken. For the first time in my life, I’m painfully acutely aware of my money and position.
“You don’t wave back?”
I arch my eyebrow at her question. A sheikh doesn’t wave. Hell, I barely acknowledge people as it is. I don’t know these people. Don’t care to. Yeah, I notice them breaking their necks when I’m coming or going, waving to me on their jogs, strolls, or their annoying carts. I have no clue if Chadli tosses them a phony smile to appease them, but my smiles garner far too much weight to waste.
“I don’t want to encourage them,” I answer.
“Oh, wow!” She laughs. “So, is yours the biggest?”
A wicked grin spreads across my face. “I promise I’m not overcompensating for something that’s small,” I tease.
“Isn’t that what they all say?” She chuckles.
“Maybe, but my words are true.”
Fuck, I want her to keep going. I don’t want the teasing to stop, but she changes topics.
“I brought a standard uniform for your party.”
I cut my eyes at her. “You know damn well there’s no party.”
“I kinda figured.” She sighs. Shifting in her seat, she looks at me. “What’s the day going to be then? Wait,” she demands, grabbing my arm. “I want an understanding.”
I stop the car at the edge of the driveway and place it into park. “You do know I can force you to fuck me once I get you in the house,” I point out.
Shit, why the hell did I say that? The way her dark eyes darts to the massive house sitting on a hill at the end of a cul de sac and then back to me makes me fear she’s going to run. I’m tempted to switch on the child lock.
“I pray that’s not your plan.”
I can taste it. It’s just below the surface, but the emotion is strong enough not to ignore.
“I would never do that to you or any woman, Chione. With a call, I could have a woman to fulfill my darkest fantasy if the mood hits me. That includes rape, so no fear, okay?”
“I believe you. Cheryl told me a little about you. I trust her, so…”
“You and her have a history?”
“I don’t eat pussy, and she’s never gotten under my skirt, but yeah, we know each other.”
“From the club?”
Chione nods to let me think what I want, but I read her eyes. They go farther back than that. They can’t be childhood friends. I could be wrong, but with the money Cheryl comes from, I can’t see Chione running in her circles on the regular.
“What did our friend tell you about me?”
“Not too much. You’re a lawyer with pull. We have a few mutual acquaintances, but nothing that should cause us any problems.”
“Why would they?”
A smile is all I get.
“You’re going to make me work and spend money to find out, huh?”
“Not a game, Chadli. Although you like to play them, I’m not here for that. You can do what you want, but my name is by my choice, not what was given. I’m not married. I have no kids, and I like my freedom. I’m willing to share a little of that. I was told that you’re here for about a month, so I’ll kick it with you to keep you from being bored.”
Who the hell does this woman think she is? I know she just didn’t read me the directions of how I’m going to handle myself with her as if I’m a preschool toy. I’m fighting hard to keep the frustration of being spoken to like a goddamn child from showing. I don’t try to fake the smile that’s cracking my face at the moment. Share a little? Fuck the offer. Like she’s taking time out of her busy life to accommodate me. Bullshit!
“Well, let’s kick it,” I suggest, getting the car rolling.
“So, we’re chill?” she asks, doubtfully.
“Like a blizzard,” I lie, dryly.
CHIONE
He doesn’t like it, but I don’t care. The only thing that I was able to get out of Cheryl before she called it quits last night was, “It’s not about the sex. As soon as you make it that, it’s over.”
I ain’t gonna lie to you, though. All I want to do is fuck this man. I’m dying to get a good look at what’s under his sweat pants. The sleeveless shirt he’s wearing puts his muscles on full display. Even still, I got him pegged. He hates me putting him in his place. A person with his clout ain’t used to shit like that. Now, me doing that might come back to haunt me if I get him wrong. I’m taking a gamble by telling him a bit about myself, but he likes games, and I know how to play them.
It takes a staff to keep a house like this. We pass a few in the hallway. A glance and a nod are all I get. They know not to make their curiosity too obvious. I can imagine the gossip, though.
“Did you see that black girl?”
“Yeah, who the hell is she?”
“His new bitch, duh.”
Whatever. I’m used to people talking. By the way, he’s stunting, so he doesn’t care either.
“We’ll stay on the bottom level.”
He must have caught me looking up the grand staircase to the upper floors. Three in all.
“Have you eaten?”
“A little, but I can stand more.” The hot sun took the bowl of Apple Jacks I ate before heading to the bus stop.
Hanging a left to the end of the hall and another right, we walked into a sitting room with huge bay windows overlooking the water. I didn’t want to keep him waiting with my chair pulled out to examine the room. Besides, I didn’t want to come off ignorant with my pop eyes roaming over everything at once. I have to remind myself that I have been around nice things once upon a time. It doesn’t matter that it was a long time ago. The training is still there. Reaching down, he scoops up my duffle bag. I watch while he tosses it on the couch before taking the seat across from me.
“No school books in there, I hope.”
“No.” I smile.
“So, are you just helping psychology majors pass?”
“I would be messing up my cash flow if I limited my skills like that. I also offer my services to Spanish, French , history and first-year engineering majors.”
“Bullshit.” He scoffs.
With ease, I slip into speaking French. Once his eyes return to their normal size, he joins the conversation. For a while, I’m lost in the joy of being normal. Laughter comes easier than it has in a long time.
“In school and with the help of the Creole m-m…” I quickly clamp my mouth closed. My neck snaps to pretend to look out the window. Cutting my eyes at him, he’s a sneaky son of a bitch. “Nice view,” I say instead.
Chadli taps the table with his finger. “Hating that little slip, huh? It’s bound to happen if you don’t do better to remember what you’re here for,” he warns.
“That being?”
“To bless me with a morsel of your time.”
I rolling my eyes. “That hurt your ego?”
“I don’t like being spoken to like—”
“An equal?” I fill in the blank.
“I promise you if I didn’t like it on some level, I wouldn’t put up with your mouth.”
“It must be nice to have it like that.”
“Oh, yes, it is.” He beams. “But it gets old too.”
“So, this is you slumming it?” I question with a twist of my lips.
“Kinda.”
He’s watching me. I don’t know if he’s talking to me this way to get under my skin, but I won’t bite. “Well, I would welcome you to the plantation, but we both know you own the fields. So, enjoy your laps around it to feel like you’re one of us.”
I blink at the way he tosses back his head in laughter. The deep, throaty sound sends a chill up my spine. Nah, it’s more than that. He might be laughing, but his eyes are telling me the opposite. His light brown orbs burn with anger before he hides them to stare at an invisible spot on the table.
“You say you don’t play games, but you’re engaged in the most dangerous one yet.” Pausing, he glances up, “Move with caution.”
His words hang between us as we glare at each other. I won’t lose my ground by showing a hint of the weakness he’s hoping to create. I’m playing for all of the marbles.
“Why aren’t you in school?”
It takes me a second to follow the line of conversation. First, we were throwing threats like gang signs. Now, we’re back to talking normally.
A Desert King's Obsession Page 3
