My Boo
Page 6
“Come in,” he said, and extended his arms out to me. I walked into his apartment, and for the first time I had no attachments. I was free to do whatever I wanted. As soon as I entered, Khalil pushed me to the sofa. He kissed me intensely, and then we sat down.
“You made the right choice,” he said, as he tilted my head up toward his.
“I know I did.” We began to kiss again, and remove each other’s clothes. Naked, I knelt in front of him and took his dick in my mouth. He gasped as I licked all around the outside and the top of its head. His dick became hard and long as I took it in and out of my mouth. I looked up at him and his eyes were closed and he was biting his lip. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood over me and positioned my body like I was about to take off in a race. He pushed my ass on his dick, and plunged his massive dick deep into me. Then, with four fast pumps, he was done and I was out of breath. He got up and got me a washcloth.
“Why you do that?” Khalil asked as he handed me the washcloth.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Make me cum so quickly.”
“I don’t know,” I said, smiling. I sat on the sofa beside him.
He tapped me and said, “What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”
“I haven’t given it a lot of thought,” I lied, thinking about the plans I’d made with Chris that needed to be canceled.
“I’m probably going to be doing hair or something.”
“I want you to take off. I want to take you somewhere.”
“Somewhere like where?” I asked.
“We can go to Vegas.”
“Las Vegas?” I asked in disbelief. “When?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll give you the money and you can go to my travel agent.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, we can bring in the new year right.”
* * *
The next morning I went to Khalil’s travel agent and she reserved us a room at the MGM Grand hotel. We were leaving December 30 and returning January 2. Our trip came to twenty-three hundred dollars because we were booking it so late. Khalil had given me three thousand and told me to spend the rest on myself and I did. I had never been to Vegas and I wanted to look good. I couldn’t wait. I called the shop and canceled all my appointments. Janea said she would take them. I had to get my nails and feet done and finish preparing for my trip. A month ago who would have thought I would be bringing in the new year with Khalil instead of Chris?
After getting my nails done, I went home and packed my bags. I was spending the night with Khalil because we had an early flight. As I was walking out, I saw Chris’s number on my caller ID. I was tempted to answer it, but I knew he would try to convince me to get with him. I had been with him a year and he hadn’t taken me anywhere. Here I had been with Khalil less than a month, and we were on our way to Vegas.
Khalil’s friend Maurice drove us to the airport the next day. It was the longest flight I had ever taken. I’d never been to the West Coast and I was a little nervous about flying nonstop for five hours. Khalil went right to sleep. I looked out the window into the clouds, thinking about Chris.
“Are you okay?” Khalil asked when he woke up.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing, I just . . .”
Before I could get it out, he stopped me midsentence and said, “Listen. We are cool. We are not rushing. We are coming out here to have a good time. Whatever you decide to do when we get back is totally up to you. I know that your man had a good thing and didn’t know how to appreciate you.” I felt a little more relieved, like I had made the right decision.
We took a cab from the airport to our hotel. The MGM Grand was huge! There were grand chandeliers, shiny marble floors, and loudly ringing slot machines throughout the ground floor. Everything was so busy. In a matter of five minutes I saw three brides walk by, and one Elvis impersonator. People were already walking around with New Year’s shiny glasses and hats on. We followed the bellhop as he took our luggage up to our suite. Khalil tipped him and we got settled.
“There is so much to do! Are you going to gamble?” I said, as I placed what I was going to wear on the bed.
“No, I don’t want to go anywhere near the casino. Once I get started, I can’t stop.”
“That’s going to be hard. There is gambling everywhere.”
“I know, but I didn’t come here for that. I came here to spend time with you,” he said, as he pulled me close and kissed me.
* * *
We walked down the Vegas strip. The weather was cooler than I expected. It was about 60 degrees, but it still felt good. There was a roller coaster and a replica of the Statue of Liberty across the street from our hotel at the New York–New York Hotel & Casino. We walked a few blocks, taking in the sites. Sex was everywhere. There were big billboard signs with naked women up and down the street. A man gave me a flyer with porn on it. I gave it to Khalil, and we laughed at it.
After our stroll, we returned to the hotel and ate at the Rain Forest Café. It was like a rain forest with mechanical birds and animals.
“What do you want to do next?” I asked Khalil.
“We can go to the pool, go back to the room and relax, and then go out tonight. Order me a burger and fries,” he said, as he got up to go to the bathroom. When he left the table a man came over to me. He looked normal, but he asked me was I working the track. I told him I didn’t know what the track was. He looked at me strangely and left. Khalil returned and I told him what the man had just said to me. Khalil laughed and said that the man was a pimp. He was trying to get me to work for him and I’d had no idea!
After lunch we went swimming in the heated indoor pool. I felt comfortable in my cute white and yellow bikini until some big-chested bitch came walking past. It must be the law to get breast implants in the state of Nevada, I thought. Everyone, even regular moms and black girls, had big Pam Anderson–looking cleavage. Khalil did a double take. She had light brown skin, a big curly weave, and wore the skimpiest string bikini I’d ever seen. She had a magazine, beach bag, and two drinks in her hand, and conveniently dropped her magazine. Khalil, jumping out of the pool so fast he almost hurt himself, walked up to her and said, “Here, you dropped this.”
I watched in disbelief. Not only did he follow her to her chair, he began having a lengthy conversation with her! I thought he might notice me, as I got out of the pool to dry off. He didn’t even turn around. I was pissed as shit. I couldn’t let it show though. I just continued to dry off and left. I was in the room, fuming mad. I wanted to cuss him out so bad. A half hour later, as I was getting out of the shower, I heard Khalil enter the suite.
“Listen. I know I’m not your girl, but I am not going to tolerate you flirting right in front of my face!”
“What are you talking about? I’m just having some fun,” he said, as he sat on the bed.
“You’re having fun? Huh? You are funny. Did you get her number?” I asked, steaming mad.
“No, but I could have. Why you tripping?”
“I’m tripping because we are here together,” I said, as I got in his face.
“I know we came here together, but you are not my woman. Listen, don’t get serious on me by putting handcuffs and shit on me.” Khalil began searching in the drawer for something to wear.
He was right. We were just friends. I was here with him. He had brought me to Las Vegas, not the chick at the pool. Not Bianca, but me. There was something special about me. So I let the pool episode roll off. I regained my composure and said, “What do you want to do next?”
“You,” he said. We ordered room service, and for the rest of the afternoon we went at it multiple times.
We awoke around ten and listened to the radio to see where the hip-hop clubs were. We took a cab to the club with the biggest party. There were big bouncers outside the club, as well as lots of foreign sports cars. The club was playing hip-hop music, but the crowd was not what we expecte
d. It was diverse, but the atmosphere wasn’t right. We were the only black couple in the club. Khalil went to the bar to get a bottle of champagne and we made an early New Year’s toast. Two girls came over to our table and asked if the seat next to us was taken. I said no. One was a blonde, the other had dark hair. They both had on bright red lipstick, were barely dressed, and teetered on stiletto heels.
As soon as they sat down, Khalil and I got up to dance. We were having fun, making the best of the club. We came back to our booth to see the girls kissing each other. Making out! I tried to look away. I couldn’t believe they were all over each other. Khalil looked over and said, “Okay. Let’s not disturb them.” We went back to the dance floor again. After about five songs and four drinks, Khalil asked if I was ready to leave. I told him I had to go to the restroom first.
I went to the restroom, and as I came out, I saw Khalil sandwiched between the lesbians, kissing the dark-haired one. The blonde was feeling all over his butt and legs. He saw me and didn’t bother to stop kissing her. I ran out of the club and got the bouncer to flag me a cab. I was so drunk that when I got back to the hotel, I fell on the bed with my clothes on and went to sleep.
When I woke up on New Year’s Eve the sun was shining and Khalil wasn’t there. My head was on fire. I didn’t know where he was, but I knew one thing. I wasn’t staying in Vegas with Khalil to get disrespected like this! I packed my shit and took a cab to the airport.
CHAPTER 10
During the ride to the airport, I kept asking myself if I was doing the right thing. Khalil invited me on this trip. Then he had the nerve to act like this? I wasn’t his woman. We were “just friends.” That’s why he should be on his best behavior, because I wasn’t his woman yet. I should have known better. This motherfucker had me three thousand miles from home, and then started tripping on me. I was mad at myself for having a nasty hangover, falling for Khalil’s shit, breaking up with Chris—all of it. I called Mike as soon as I got out of the cab.
“Mike, listen. I’m in Vegas with Khalil. He is being so disrespectful. He’s been flirting with other women the whole time, right in my face. Then, when we were in this club last night, he started kissing a lesbian. I left, and he never came back to the room.” Tears ran down my face.
“Stop crying. He’s tripping. Does Chris know where you’re at?” Mike asked.
“I broke up with him.”
“For Khalil?” Mike said, surprised.
“Not really, but I wanted to go on this trip without reservations, to see how it would feel.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Get a flight home.”
“Call me as soon as you get a flight so I can see how you made out.”
“I will. I got to find a flight first.” As soon as I disconnected, my phone began to ring. It was a blocked number. I was scared to answer it. It was probably Khalil, trying to find out where I was. Fuck that niggah. If it is him, I’m going to cuss his ass out.
I answered my phone. “Hello.”
“Gina, where are you?” a voice asked.
“Chris?” I said, taking the phone away from my ear in disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m in Philly. Where are you?” he asked. I didn’t know what to say. Before I could respond, he said, “I went by your place and checked the hair salon. They said you went on vacation. Where are you?” I didn’t know what to tell Chris, so I just started to cry. He hated to see or hear me cry.
“I took a trip with Bianca to Las Vegas. I don’t want to stay here with her. I want to come home to you! I’m sorry. I miss you, I miss you,” I cried.
“Get a plane home.”
“I’m trying. I’m sorry, Chris, I miss you, I was wrong.”
“I know, I know. You’re at the airport?” he asked.
“Yes, I just got to the airport.”
“Do they have any flights?” he asked.
“I’m trying to see now. I’ll call you back.” I tried to calm myself down. I had to get out of Vegas and get back home to my man. I went to the terminal to see if there were any flights to Philadelphia. I didn’t care what time it left. Anything was better than spending my New Year’s Eve with Khalil in Vegas, or by myself.
I walked up to the information desk. The woman, in her late sixties, was on a call, giving someone directions. I waited until she finished and got her attention.
“Hi. May I help you?” she said.
“I need to find a flight back to Philadelphia. Today.”
“Today? I don’t know. Most flights to the East Coast are booked. You see that red phone over there? Pick it up, and somebody will try to help you.” I thanked the woman and walked over to the phone. I picked it up and the operator asked what I needed assistance with.
“I don’t care what airline or price. I just need to get out of Vegas!”
“Can you fly into New York or Newark?”
“Newark is good enough.” She found me a red-eye, arriving at nine in the morning. I wanted to leave right now so I asked her was she sure there weren’t any other flights. Then she said, “Hold up, there is another flight with Frontier Airlines. It’s leaving in forty-five minutes to Reagan International. It would get you into Washington, D.C., at seven P.M. You lose three hours going back to the East Coast, and the flight is four and a half hours.”
“Okay, I want it,” I said.
“The only problem is they are about to start boarding in fifteen minutes. You still need to make it through security and you’re going to be cutting it very close.”
“I’ll take the chance. I want the seat,” I said.
She took my credit card information and booked the flight. She told me that I could pick up my ticket at the Frontier counter. I hung up the phone and ran to the ticket counter.
“Excuse me, sir, my flight is about to leave. I need a boarding pass.” He took my identification and printed out a boarding pass. He said, “You’ll never make this flight, but here is your boarding pass. Have a nice day.”
I took my pass from him, put it in my bag, and ran up the escalator to security. When I reached the top I saw a security line with at least a hundred people waiting. I looked down at the time on my cell phone. I had exactly twenty-five minutes to make it through security. I got the attention of a security person and begged to jump to the front of the line. “I need to make my flight; it leaves in twenty minutes. Can you please let me go to the front of the line?” I forced my ticket into his hand.
He glimpsed at it and walked me to the front of the security gate. I made it to my flight just as they made the final boarding announcement.
Once I was settled in my seat I hurried and called Chris before the flight took off. His voice mail answered so I left him a message. “Chris, this is Gina. I got a flight back home. I’m flying into Reagan International. I know you are in Philly, but can you meet me down there? I arrive at seven P.M. Flight 1016 Frontier Airlines.” I turned my cell phone off, fastened my seat belt, and prayed to God that Chris would take me back.
The plane landed and for the first time in my life I wasn’t the first person off the plane. I wasn’t pushing people and sighing when they didn’t move fast enough to get off. I was taking my time because I did not want to face the reality that Chris might not be waiting for me. I was optimistic that he still had feelings for me, and that’s why he’d looked for me and called my cell phone. I hoped he got my message, or else I’d have to find my way home from Washington. But anything was better than being stuck in Las Vegas with Khalil.
My phone rang and I fished for it in my bag. I saw Chris’s number on the screen of my phone. I answered the call.
“Yo, did you make your flight.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Where are you? I’m at the terminal waiting for you,” he said.
I sighed with relief.
“I’m about to walk outside.” I walked over to the curb as his tan Chrysler 300 pulled up. He unlocked the door and I placed my bags in the backseat and got in. Hi
s car smelled like strawberry air freshener. I was scared to look at him. I could feel his eyes on me.
He said, “I don’t care who you were with, what happened, or any of that.”
“I’m sorry.” I sniffed as I tried to keep my tears in.
“All I care about is right now. I love you and I know I don’t want to ever go through this again. I haven’t slept in two days. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Look at me. I look a mess,” he said, as he held his arm out, pulling on his shirt. I stretched over the car console and hugged him. I was crying, but I felt overjoyed that I was with my boo. Our reunion was interrupted by a cop telling us to move because there was no waiting at the airport. Chris started the car, turned on the radio and drove us to his apartment.
Once we were inside he told me the plan for the night.
“Gina, I got to deejay tonight at H20. I want to stay here with you and bring the year in, but they already paid me. So, you can stay here if you like. I have to go.” He walked in the bathroom and I followed him. I said, “Baby, I know that’s your job and I want to go with you.”
He had to be at the club in an hour, so he undressed and got in the shower. I took off my clothes and joined him. The water was hot, but felt so good after my long flight. I stood behind Chris and just held him as the water ran down our bodies. He turned around and squeezed me tight.
“I even missed your smell, girl,” he said, as he kissed me. He took his washcloth, lathered it up with soap, and knelt on his knees and began to wash me up. He started with my feet and worked his way up my legs. He slid the soapy cloth between my legs and moved it gently back and forth. I grabbed my boo’s hardness and stroked it in a circular motion. He then lathered my breasts. He rubbed his dick against my clit, teasing her, then picked me up and told me to wrap my legs around his waist. We thrust in unison until we both were satisfied.
* * *
It was ten o’clock, two hours away from the new year. Chris was already dressed and waiting on me. My hair was still damp from the shower so I took a headband out of my bag and brushed my hair and wore it wild. It looked how I felt, sexy and carefree. I had on an ocean blue asymmetric dress that hugged my body just right. Although we didn’t plan it, Chris and I wore the same colors. He had on a white and blue striped collar shirt and blue slacks, with black hard-bottom shoes. I applied shimmering light blue eye shadow and wore dangling gold earrings and a matching bracelet. My shoes where multicolor gold and blue pointy stilettos. I was ready to go.