Lust

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Lust Page 11

by Victoria Christopher Murray


  Before I could protest, Damon handed me off to Trey.

  What?

  “The best man will dance with Tiffanie,” Damon explained, “and I’m gonna hit the floor with this beautiful lady.”

  “All right now,” Allen, Sonia’s husband, yelled out.

  Everyone laughed—except for me and Trey. If Damon had any idea what he’d just done . . .

  Just shoot me now! Because there was no way I was going to make it through this dance.

  Damon made a motion to the DJ, then grinned at me. “I did this for you, bae. Your favorite old-school song,” he said before the keyboard chords of The Gap Band’s “Yearning for Your Love” bounced off the walls of the room.

  Oh. My. God!

  What was Damon thinking? This was just plain stupid. If he’d wanted to go old school, he should’ve gone all the way back to my favorite song when I was four. “If You’re Happy and You Know It” would have been more appropriate.

  Trey chuckled, as if he was entertained by my pain. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. It didn’t take but a couple of seconds for my blood to pump harder. I just prayed that I didn’t . . . shudder the way I’d done before.

  Then Trey’s hands started moving. From around my waist he edged them, almost imperceptibly, up my back.

  Keep breathing, I told myself. In and out. Out and in.

  Then I stopped that thought. Not exactly the right words to be thinking. It was too late, though. Those words stayed, now with new meaning—in and out and out and in.

  His hands set a fire against my bare skin, but I had no time to focus on that because he leaned in closer and his lips grazed the top of my forehead.

  “Back off,” I hissed.

  He bent a bit back with surprise in his eyes. “You okay, Tiff?”

  “My name is Tiffanie and I want to keep this dance respectful,” I said, using one of Damon’s favorite words.

  “Oh . . . kay.” The way he spoke, the way his forehead wrinkled into a frown made it seem like he had no idea what I was talking about.

  I took a breath and tried to lower my anxiety a few notches. Was it just me? Everything I was feeling . . . was this just my imagination, just what I wanted him to do to me?

  Damon and Sonia were just a few feet away, and over Trey’s shoulder, I watched Damon hold my best friend close. Then he whispered something, they laughed together, and Sonia rested her chin on Damon’s shoulder.

  Okay, they weren’t dancing like strangers and as I looked at the folks who surrounded us, no one thought anything was up with their dance. Sonia’s husband was even capturing the moment with his cell phone.

  I needed to chill.

  So I went back to concentrating on my . . . breathing. In and out. Out and in.

  “Relax, Tiff.” His voice broke through my focus and ignored what I’d just told him about my name. “There’s no need for you to be nervous.”

  I was looking at my husband-to-be, but to Trey I said, “I’m not.”

  “Really?” A pause. “Then why are you shaking?” Another pause before he had the audacity to chuckle.

  I backed away, just enough so that when I looked up, I would be able to see right into his eyes. I wanted him to see that I was in no way afraid of him.

  I lifted my eyes and his were waiting for me. His dark, seductive eyes that said all the things that I’d been dreaming about.

  And then it happened.

  Again!

  I closed my eyes and squeezed my legs together. It was a small shudder, and Trey grasped me, holding me up like he knew what happened.

  Damn!

  I was mad. I was embarrassed. And thirty seconds later, when the song ended, I was relieved. Pressing my hands against his chest, I gave him a shove that was way too gentle for what I really wanted to do to him. With my eyes down, I passed by Damon and Sonia, and my grandparents, who had joined us on the dance floor, I guess. I hadn’t even noticed.

  I moved past all of them into the hallway and dashed right into the ladies’ room, taking refuge in the last stall. Without pulling my dress up or my panties down, I sat my butt on the toilet.

  What on God’s earth was going on? In all the times I’d been with Damon, he had never made me feel this way . . . or made me feel . . . that thing. And now this man . . . Trey had done it by just looking at me, by just talking to me, and now, just by holding me. Three times.

  The bathroom door creaked open and I groaned.

  Please, God. Don’t let this be anyone I know.

  Whoever it was, I just wanted the lady to come in, do her business, and then leave without getting into mine.

  But then a whisper. “Tiffanie?”

  There was no hiding from Sonia, so I swung the stall door back. She frowned when she saw me just sitting there.

  “¿Qué está pasando?”

  I sighed and kept my voice low, too. “Are we alone?”

  She bent down and looked at the floor of the other stalls. “Unless someone is standing on the toilet, we’re cool.” Turning back to me, she asked, “Are you all right?”

  I shook my head, then pushed myself up. “It’s Trey.”

  It took a moment for my words to register and make sense, and then she waved her hand at my words. “Oh, goodness.” Sonia turned to the mirror as if problem solved! She flicked the curls from her face. “Really, Tiffanie? That again?”

  I closed my eyes and wondered if I had the guts to tell Sonia what had just happened. All I could come up with was, “I think Trey’s the devil.”

  Sonia faced me with a straight face, but then busted out laughing. “Girl, I’ve never known you to be so dramatic.” Then she turned right back to that mirror as if she didn’t care.

  But she was my bestie and I knew that she did, so this was on me. I had to find a way to convince her.

  “You’re right,” I spoke to her reflection. “I’m not the dramatic type, so doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Yeah, it does.” She faced me again. “It simply means that your behind needs to get married so that you can stop all this mess.”

  “It’s not me,” I insisted. “It’s him.”

  “No, it’s you. It’s because you’ve only been with one man and now you’re fantasizing about what it would be like to be with one more, except your time is just about up. Tomorrow, it’ll be just one man for the rest of your life. Touching my arm, she added, “But it’s all right.” Her words were soft and soothing as if she was giving lessons on the birds and the bees to a child. “It’s normal.”

  “It’s not normal and it’s not that. It’s him.”

  She released a long breath and gave me another wave like she was tired of talking about this. “Well, whatever it is, it’ll be over tomorrow. You and Damon will be married and Saturday, Trey will be back where he belongs. In somebody’s hood, slinging somebody’s dope.” She laughed and patted my face with one of the lavender-scented cloths that rested on silver trays on each sink. “It’s just your imagination.”

  “Just my imagination,” I repeated.

  “And you and your imagination don’t have anything to worry about, because Trey told Damon he had to get going right after you left the room.”

  Her words let me breathe.

  “Now, come on. Because with the way you ran past me and Damon, he’ll be coming in here any second if I don’t get you out there and show your man that you’re all right.”

  She grabbed my hand like she was my keeper, and I stumbled out behind her. Just like she said, Damon was waiting a few feet from the restroom door, his forehead creased with worry. “Bae, please tell me that you’re not sick.”

  “I’m not sick.”

  His shoulders relaxed, but then he stiffened again. “Then what happened?”

  “I felt a little dizzy.”

  He took my hand.
“Maybe you didn’t eat enough,” he said as if it was his job to figure out my problem and find a solution.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Sonia butted in. “It’s just love. Nothing that a few wedding vows won’t cure,” she added before she sauntered away.

  “I’m fine. Really,” I told Damon once we were alone.

  Damon kissed me with one of his signature kisses, the kind that had made me fall in love with him in the first place. The one that was gentle and made me feel so loved, so special and safe.

  “Well, if you’re sure. But maybe if you’re not feeling well, I should go ahead and walk you to your suite now.”

  “No, I told you, I’m fine. Plus, I thought we had this room for a few more hours.”

  “We do, but some of the fellas . . .” He paused, giving me a couple of moments to figure it out. “Well, you know . . .”

  I did know. Without him saying another word, I knew that Damon’s friends wanted to blow this joint and get some kind of bachelor party started.

  I couldn’t say that I was all that excited about that party, but there was one thing that I could say—I trusted my man and I knew no kind of cheating would be going down tonight or any night.

  He said, “Half of the fellas are gone already.”

  “You go on,” I said. “I guess we’ll just have an all-girls party here.”

  “Not quite all girls. Your grandfather will still be here.”

  Not even a second passed before I suggested, “Why don’t you take him with you?”

  Damon’s eyes bucked so wide, there was no way I could hold back my laugh. This time I was the one who pulled him into my arms.

  “Go on. Have a good time,” I said. “But not too good.”

  “Thanks, bae. And don’t you stay too long. I want you to look beautiful tomorrow, though I don’t know how you’re going to improve upon perfection.”

  I smiled before we gently pressed our lips together.

  When he leaned back, he said, “Whew, I better get out of here or I might never leave.”

  Laughing, I said, “Go on.” When he turned around, I tapped him on his butt. “Behave yourself; I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail tonight.”

  “Bae,” he began, looking at me over his shoulder, “because of you, I can’t do anything but behave. I don’t know any other way.” Then suddenly, he turned around and ran back to me. Grabbing me, he whispered, “Do you realize this is our last good-bye?”

  “I know. Next time I see you . . .”

  “We’ll be ready to be man and wife. The day is finally here.”

  “Finally,” I said. “I love you, Damon King.”

  He sighed. “Are you sure I can’t spend the night with you?”

  “Come on, babe. We’ve made it this far. Tomorrow . . .” I finished my sentence with a kiss.

  He moaned. “Okay, well, I may not be able to see you, but will you . . . text me?”

  He leered, I laughed.

  “I’ll text you.”

  “Okay, and at midnight, I’ll call you. Our final ‘good night’.”

  “You better.”

  “Hey, King,” one of his friends shouted from down the hall, “you riding with us?”

  “Go on,” I told him again. He backed away, slowly at first, then with a laugh, he turned and strutted the rest of the way. As I watched him, I whispered, “Please, God. Help me!”

  That made me smile. I wanted that man in every way. I really, really wanted Damon King and couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

  15

  Damon

  I can’t believe you’re really gonna do this,” one of my boys said.

  Another added, “What I can’t believe is that Tiffanie is ­really gonna do this. Does she know your history, D?”

  Before I could respond, another one of my friends said, “Maybe we should tell her.”

  Their laughter bounced off the walls of the Martini Lounge, one of the classiest spots in DC, a private men’s club that not many in the city knew about, which is why I often came here whenever I wanted to chill.

  I joined in the laughter, knowing that what my boys said was in fun, understanding that this was all part of the night-before-the-wedding ritual.

  As we sat around the octagonal mahogany table, it seemed that everyone was having a good time, even though I hadn’t been sure how they would take this gathering. I hadn’t told any of them how this bachelor party was gonna go down. Of course, they’d offered to plan it weeks ago, but I knew that I would be in for some kinda trouble if I’d turned this over to the hands of one of these cats. We would’ve been at a strip joint somewhere, with a woman named Delicious hanging all over me.

  Through the corner of my eye, I saw activity at the front. Someone was coming through the door. My man.

  Trey whispered something to the attendant, probably giving his name. When the man nodded, giving him permission to enter, I watched as he peered into the dimly lit, cigar-smoke-filled room. He didn’t spot me until I raised my glass above my head.

  In just a couple of long strides, he was at our table. “Yo, what’s up?” he said, slapping my shoulder.

  “I was worried you weren’t gonna make it.” I slid to the side a bit so that he could pull up a chair. But he didn’t make any moves to sit down.

  He stood over me as he said, “Wouldn’t miss this. My boy going out like a straight . . .”

  “Hold your roll.” I held up my hand. “No talk like that tonight. I know you’ve probably never been in a place like this, but this is a true gentleman’s club.”

  Not even an instant passed before I realized what I’d done. When every part of Trey stiffened, I knew I’d insulted my boy. That’s not what I meant to do; I just didn’t want any problems with the members who always looked at me and my boys like we didn’t belong.

  “No, problem, bruh. I’ll keep my hood to myself.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

  Pushing my chair back, I excused myself, though no one seemed to notice, and I motioned for Trey to follow me. On the other side of the room, I stood at the bar and held up my hand to the bartender.

  But Trey said, “Unless you’re ordering something, don’t call him over for me.”

  I frowned.

  He said, “I’ve gotta keep a clear head for tomorrow. I’m the best man, remember?”

  I grinned and had to admit I was relieved that he wasn’t holding that misstep a moment ago against me. “Okay, no drink for you.” I downed the rest of my martini, then held up the glass to Ed, the bartender I knew best.

  As I waited for my drink, I said to Trey, “I’m really glad to have you here.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, trust me. I’m so glad to be here in DC, so glad to be staying at the Willard, so glad to be in your wedding, so glad to have met Tiffanie.”

  That made me smile inside, though I kept my stance serious. “All week I’ve been trying to find the right time to talk to you. Wanted to discuss, where do we go from here?”

  He squinted as if he didn’t understand.

  So I explained, “I’d really like you with me, the way it used to be. You and me. Side by side.”

  He didn’t even let a beat go by before he said, “With you telling me how high to jump and then me jumping?”

  His tone made me take a couple of mental steps back, though physically, I didn’t even flinch. “Is that how you really saw things?”

  For too many seconds, not a single word passed between us. Then Trey grinned. “Just messing with you since I have to watch my language and everything in this place.” He slapped me on my shoulder again, this time a bit harder.

  Or maybe I was just imagining it.

  “Seriously, I want to talk about bringing you on.”

  “What? As a charity case?”

  Even if he was being sarcastic again
, I didn’t like his words. I shook my head. “You’re no charity. I just want us to be working together again.”

  He waited a moment like he was really giving it thought. Then, as his eyes scanned the room, he said, “This isn’t the time or the place to talk about it.”

  I nodded. “Agreed. Will you still be here when I get back from my honeymoon?”

  “Honeymoon?” He laughed as if that concept was the most hilarious thing he’d heard, but I couldn’t figure out what was the joke.

  “What’s funny?”

  He shrugged and released a few more chuckles. “I dunno. I guess there are a few words that I never imagined you saying. Marriage and honeymoon are two of them.”

  I nodded, realizing that he wasn’t being facetious.

  He asked, “So where are you going? On your honeymoon?”

  The way he said it made me take back what I was thinking. He was being flippant and I didn’t like it. “Dubai,” I told him. “We’ll spend the night here tomorrow, then leave on Saturday.”

  His head moved up and down as if he approved, but his eyes seemed to still be laughing at me.

  I tried to ignore that and took us back to my question. “So, will you be here when I get back?”

  He gave me a half-shrug. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  He let another long moment pass. “I got something in the works here tonight and if it goes down the way I expect, I might be long gone by the time you get back.”

  It was my turn to pause and think. Trey was really making noise like he was going back to that life. “Sounds like something big. Something serious.” I gave him another pause, more space, so that he could bring clarity to his words. When he didn’t, I asked, “Business?”

  He gave me a slow nod. “You might say that. Something that I should have taken care of a long time ago. Some payback.”

  My eyes got even thinner. “Trey, it’s been a long time since you were in DC. You can’t be holding on to any kind of beef.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  I continued, “Don’t get mixed up in anything. It’s not worth it.”

  He held up his hands. “It’s not what you think. It’s not conflict. Just some business I gotta handle. In fact . . .” He glanced down at his watch. “I need to get going, need to put my plays into motion.”

 

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