A.O.E.M.: 4 Play

by Eve Vaughn

  A.O.E.M.: 4 Play

  Eve Vaughn

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2005 Eve Vaughn

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

  ISBN: 1-59596-183-6

  Formats Available:

  HTML, Adobe PDF,

  MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1561

  Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Carolyn Robinson

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Chapter One

  This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  Trina brushed an angry tear away as she made her way down the block toward her small ranch style house. No, she wouldn’t cry.

  I knew I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

  The day started out lousy when she woke up at eight-thirty, the time she was supposed to be at work. Her live-in boyfriend Tim snored loudly beside her, oblivious to the predicament he’d placed her in. He’d unplugged her alarm clock again. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it without saying something this time. Trina shook him. “You jerk!”

  Tim’s response was to turn around and open one light brown eye. He pushed a thick dreadlock from his eyes, giving her that lazy smile of his, which usually made her knees weak. “What’s the matter, baby?” he asked in his deep Barry White-like voice.

  “Don’t you ‘baby’ me. You pulled the plug on my alarm clock after I’ve asked you time and time again not to. Now I’m late. Thanks a lot, jackass,” she admonished before scrambling out of bed.

  Tim sat up looking unapologetic and unconcerned, further pissing her off. “You know how I hate the sound of that screeching alarm. Why don’t you set it to music?”

  “Because I’d sleep right through it, that’s why.”

  “Well, the sound of your alarm disturbs my aura,” he said, not sounding a bit repentant. He grinned at her as he sat up, the cover dipping lower to reveal his muscular, golden chest. She was a sucker for a nice body. His sexy bedroom eyes lowered, surveying her scantily clad body.

  She felt her pussy getting wet with the seductive look he sent her way. Damn him for doing this to her. She placed her hands on her hips, determined not to let him manipulate her as he normally did. “You know what I find disturbing? You’ve been without a job for nearly two months now and it doesn’t seem as though you’re putting much of an effort into getting another one.”

  “What am I supposed to do? I can’t work just anywhere. I’m an artist.”

  “No, you’re a bum, and you had better get your lazy ass in gear, because I’m tired of paying all the damn bills.”

  He pouted, looking offended. “I’m trying as hard as I can, but it’s hard for a brother to find work out there in this depressed economy, especially when the man is constantly trying to hold him down.”

  Trina rolled her eyes in exasperation. She didn’t have time to get into it with Tim and listen to another one of his conspiracy theories. It was always someone else’s fault, never his own. The man wasn’t Tim’s problem -- his laziness was.

  “We’ll discuss this when I get home from work, but I hope you drag your butt out of bed long enough to straighten the place up a little bit. The last thing I need is to come home to find your clothes thrown all over the place.”

  “I’m not the damned maid.” A petulant expression fell across his face, detracting from his handsome looks. He poked his lip out, looking all of five years old instead of thirty-five.

  “I’m not saying you are, Tim, but after working full-time, I shouldn’t have to come home to find your stuff thrown all over the place.”

  “I thought you liked doing stuff for me. You said nothing pleased you more than to take care of your man,” he pointed out.

  She was sure she’d never said any such thing, but she supposed she had done everything for Tim, so it really wasn’t a wonder why he took advantage of her now. In the beginning, she’d been smitten with him and made pleasing Tim her priority. Now it was getting old.

  “Look, all I’m asking you to do is to clean up after yourself. At least put your clothes in the washer.”

  “But I like the way you clean my clothes.” He smiled at her as though he knew he’d get out of it as he usually did.

  “Tim, this is not up for discussion. Don’t you think I get tired sometimes? Besides, I’m tired of cleaning your funky-ass underwear. I don’t know what you’ve been doing lately, but there’ve been a lot of skid marks in your briefs. I don’t buy toilet paper for nothing, you know.”

  “Stop talking like you’re my mother. I’m a man, damn it.”

  “Well, start acting like one and I won’t act like a mother. Clean this place up!”

  “I live here too, you know. I’m not a cleaning service.”

  She could have pointed out that her name was the only one on the deed, but she was late as it was. By the time she finished preparing herself for work, she was forty-five minutes late.

  Luckily, her job was only ten minutes away. Unluckily, her fifteen-year-old Jeep didn’t feel like cooperating. She wasted another twenty minutes waiting for the bus. By the time she made it to work, Trina was nearly two hours late. The minute she set foot into the bank, she could feel a malevolent set of eyes follow her progress to her desk.

  Stephanie.

  God, she hated that bitch. Trina was sure Stephanie had already pointed out her tardiness to their boss. As she sat down, her boss walked over to her desk. “Miss Davis, do you know what time it is?” Mr. Peterson asked in his usual condescending tone.

  “Yes, I do. I left a message on your voice mail.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact you’re two hours late.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” she said through gritted teeth. She knew from experience that it wasn’t a good idea to contradict her boss. No one liked to be wrong, but he made being right all the time a science. Heaven forbid if someone pointed out one of his numerous errors. It wasn’t above him to make his employees miserable. She was still paying for correcting a mistake he’d made a year ago. If she had not been with this bank for seven years and enjoyed what she did, Trina would have quit a long time ago.

  “I know I’m right. Of course you know I’m going to have to write you up.”

  “But I’ve never been late before,” she protested.

  “So you say, but it’s been brought to my attention that you leave earlier than you should.” He folded his arms across his chest, hovering over her in an intimidating stance.

  He was her boss, but she wasn’t about to be reprimanded for something she wasn’t guilty of. “I’m here until five o’clock on some days and past that on most others. I take pride in my job, and I’ve never left early.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” He raised a brow, a frown marring his corpulent face. He stood so close to her she could smell stale coffee and eggs on his breath. Her stomach turned.

  “I’m not calling you a liar, but I’m saying whoever informed you I leave early is.” She briefly glanced over her shoulder to see Stephanie Nash looking at them with a satisfied smirk on her face. Stephanie couldn’t get over the fact that Trina continuously beat he
r every quarter for bringing in loan revenue.

  Trina would have been happy to share her secrets, but Stephanie thought she knew everything and brushed aside any of her friendly overtures. The redhead eyed Trina with a look of triumph in her frosty blue eyes.

  “Miss Davis, if you’ve finished daydreaming, I would appreciate your attention.” Trina could feel her face grow hot as she turned her head to look up at her boss. His loud voice seemed to fill the entire bank. His beady brown eyes drifted to her breasts. It took every ounce of her self-control not to slap the nasty out of him.

  “As I was saying, I’m going to have to write you up so there’s no point in arguing. The next time you’re late, you’ll be on probation. I’m sure you know what will happen after that.”

  “But --”

  “That will be all.” He turned away then. She watched his bulky frame disappear behind the closed door of his office. He didn’t even have the decency to take her aside in order to speak to her privately.

  She thanked God she was dark-skinned, otherwise she was sure she’d be beet red. Trina felt humiliated, which she believed was what he’d intended. Bank employees and customers alike watched her as she started up her computer.

  “Are you open, miss? I’ve been waiting for an hour for someone to help me.” An impatient looking woman tapped her toes -- arms akimbo. Trina was sure the woman hadn’t been waiting that long, but knew better than to argue with a customer.

  Trina rubbed her temple, feeling a headache coming on. She knew this customer would be difficult and she was right. After running Mrs. Sherman’s credit report, Trina found she didn’t qualify for the requested loan. Instead of crying or begging as some clients did upon being declined, Mrs. Sherman spat at her, with the spit barely missing her face. She called Trina every possible name under the sun.

  Trina sat back in her chair in stunned silence, mortified that this was happening to her. The security guard rushed over to drag the screaming woman away. If she were inclined to violence, Trina would have run after that old bitch.

  The regional bank manager, who happened to be visiting that day, rushed over to see if she was okay. She must have looked pretty shaken up, because she was sent home. As Trina left the bank, she could see Stephanie looking on with an amused gleam in her eyes.

  Bitch.

  Now here she was, fresh off the bus. She was tired, her heel had broken stepping off the bus, she was sure she looked a mess, and it wasn’t quite noon. Trina hoped to God Tim had at least dragged his sorry ass out of bed. Why the hell did she put up with him anyway?

  Because he has a big dick, you’re thirty-four, and scared to be alone.

  Perhaps there were worse things than being alone, like being in another dead-end relationship. As Trina rounded the corner of her house, she spotted her best friend Twan’s Volkswagen Golf. What was Twan doing here in the afternoon? Her flamboyant friend and Tim couldn’t stand each other.

  The sound of loud groans greeted her the second she stepped foot across the threshold. What in the world? This could not be what she thought it was. She had to be imagining things.

  “Oh lover, give me every inch of that caramel voodoo stick. Fuck my ass, cowboy!” Twan’s familiar high-pitched voice cried out in obvious delight.

  No. She shook her head in denial, despite what she heard. She just knew her boyfriend wasn’t in their bed screwing her male best friend -- she just knew it.

  Careful not to make a sound, she slowly headed toward the bedroom. She peeked inside the slightly ajar door. Although this was exactly what she expected, she couldn’t help being surprised at the sight that greeted her.

  Twan was on his knees holding on to the bedposts. His dark chocolate body glistened with sweat as a look of pure ecstasy clouded his face. Tim’s cock was planted so deep inside Twan’s ass it seemed as though they were one. Her boyfriend’s long dreads flowed down his back as he arched his head back with gritted teeth. They almost looked like a beautiful work of moving art -- gold on black.

  “Don’t think this means anything to me. I’m not gay.”

  “Yeah, you say that now, cowboy, but that hasn’t stopped you from fucking this tight ass to your heart’s content for the past couple months,” Twan taunted. “It also didn’t stop you from letting me play with yours either.”

  “A little ass-play doesn’t make a person gay.”

  Trina’s jaw dropped. They had been having an affair that long? How dare they? How dare Twan betray a ten-year friendship by screwing her man in her bed? And how dare Tim do this to her, in her bed no less. Still, she stood frozen to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from their act of betrayal.

  “So you say, cowboy.”

  “Shut up, bitch, and take this cock,” Tim groaned.

  “Give it to me. Give it to me hard. Don’t hold back, baby,” Twan begged.

  “God, I’m almost there!”

  “Shoot it in my ass, every single drop, cowboy!”

  “Aargh!” Tim yelled, obviously reaching his climax. The two burly men collapsed on the bed as Tim finally withdrew his now semi-erect penis from Twan’s wet anus. They wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their bodies close. Their heads came together for a long, hot kiss, their tongues dancing in an almost choreographed movement.

  Twan pulled back with a smug smile on his dark face. “I bet you Trina doesn’t give good ass like I do.”

  “She doesn’t give me ass at all or I wouldn’t need you and if you say anything to her, I’ll fuck you up,” Tim threatened.

  Twan pursed his lips. “Hmm, I don’t think you’re in a position to make threats. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re with her if she doesn’t know how to treat a man like you in bed. I would give you everything you need.”

  “Except a pussy.”

  “Who needs fish, when you can have beef. Besides, if her pussy was that damn good, you wouldn’t be with me.”

  “She pays the bills. Besides, I’ve grown used to having her around so you had better not ruin my good thing.”

  “I could take good care of you, cowboy. Forget about her.”

  “She’s your friend. What’s your deal?”

  “When I see a good thing I go after it. Anyway, you know what they say -- all’s fair in love and war. Trina’s a nice girl. She’ll get over it and she’s cute enough to find someone else. My poor clueless friend, she thinks we can’t stand each other. What would she say if she could see us like this?” Twan’s throaty effeminate laughter filled the room and that was the last straw.

  Those bastards!

  Trina couldn’t remember being this angry in her life. She turned around and stalked toward the kitchen. She opened the cutlery drawer, and pulled out a butcher knife. One or both of them were going to lose their nuts today. She walked back toward the bedroom and kicked the door open.

  The two men looked up with stunned expressions on their faces. “Trina! What are you doing home?” Tim asked, hopping out of bed, his limp dick swinging between his legs.

  Twan on the other hand, once he regained his composure, looked totally unrepentant. “Well, girlfriend, I told you he was cheating, but don’t worry, I was taking good care of him while you were at work.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Trina screamed, lunging at her former best friend with the butcher knife. Twan screamed like a teenage girl in a horror movie as he scrambled out of the bed with catlike reflexes.

  “Save me!” he squawked as Trina brought the knife down in a slashing arc.

  Tim grabbed her from behind as Twan dashed out of the room so fast he would have made Carl Lewis proud. “Baby, I can explain.”

  She was too enraged to listen. Trina brought her heel down on Tim’s bare foot, causing him to loosen his grip on her. She pulled herself out of his arms and turned around, raising the knife with the intent of cutting off Mr. Happy.

  Tim pulled back just in time. “You’re crazy!”

  “You’re damn right I am. Crazy for putting up with you for so long.”

 
; “It wasn’t me, baby.”

  Tim’s lame excuse was enough to make her pause. “Wasn’t you?” she asked incredulously. Did he think she was an idiot?

  “No, baby. It wasn’t me.”

  “Oh? So who did I see fucking my so-called best friend in the ass?”

  “You were seeing things, baby, but if you put the knife down, I’ll forgive you and we can get past this little incident.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You forgive me? Ha! You’ve got some damn nerve, do you know that, Tim? Get out of my house!”

  “Please, baby --”

  “Don’t you ‘please baby’ me. Get out now!” she screamed, raising the knife again.

  Tim must have read something in her eyes because he turned and started to run. She chased him down the hallway with the knife hovering in the air. His dreads flew behind him. Trina reached out to grab one, yanking him back. He had her by a good sixty pounds, but her rage gave her superhuman strength. He stumbled backwards, falling on his ass.

  She raised the knife higher.

  “Don’t do it!” His arms came up to shield his face. A puddle of urine formed underneath him and he burst into loud embarrassing sobs.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t a murderer and Tim definitely wasn’t worth going to jail for. Trina lowered the knife before dropping it to the ground.

  “Get out of my house now, and don’t come back,” she sighed, leaning against the wall.

  “My stuff --”

  “Will be forwarded to you if and when you send me your new address. Get out now.”

  “My clothes!”

  “No, you mean my clothes. I paid for those clothes. Now get out before I kick your sorry ass,” she said, leaning down to grab the knife. She had no intention of using it, but he must have thought so because he got up in a hurry and dashed out of the house.

  Trina had no idea where he was going or how far he would get without clothing and she didn’t care.

  “Why me?” she groaned.

  Tim wasn’t the first loser she’d dated. There was Larry, who didn’t inform her he was married with three kids before they dated for nearly a year. Then there was Kwan, who was tied so tightly in his mother’s apron strings he asked for her permission before taking Trina anywhere. Julio was a serial cheater who thought he was God’s gift to women, and Chuck… well, Chuck had a very interesting fetish involving feet and a bear suit. She’d dated men of all races, age ranges, and sizes and had come to one conclusion -- they were all dogs no matter the package.