Misty

by Allison Hobbs

  If Misty owned a house like this, every room would be thoroughly lived in, and she wouldn’t abandon it to roam around the world. Some people had no business having tons of money.

  Misty checked the time and began to sulk when she realized that she, Brick, and Gavin had been waiting for over an hour for Jeffrey Backus to grace them with his presence. When he finally entered the room, Misty’s eyes shot from his tanned face, thick silver hair and eyebrows, down to the dark gloves he wore to hide his affliction. He was a hefty man with a commanding presence.

  Gavin jumped to his feet. “How are you, Mr. Backus? I’m Gavin Stallings. We’ve spoken on the phone several times, and I must say, it’s very nice to meet you in person. I believe you’ve played golf with my uncle, Clark Stallings,” Gavin said, clearly kissing up to the billionaire.

  Backus brushed past Gavin, giving him only a curt head nod. Being a self-made man, he probably disapproved of trust fund kids who never had to work for anything.

  “You must be Misty,” Backus said, approaching her and reaching for her hand. She gave him a weak handshake, grateful that the fabric didn’t allow their palms to touch. She wasn’t there to give him a reading, and since he didn’t think highly enough of her to send his personal luxury jet, she didn’t want to give him any bonuses. Admittedly, she was envious of his gorgeous home and angry that he’d kept her waiting. Backus would have to be put in his place for treating her like an underling.

  “You’re a tiny little thing. Not at all the way I pictured you,” Backus quipped, giving her a wide grin that probably charmed most people. Misty wasn’t charmed and didn’t crack a smile. He needed her more than she needed him, and she declined being sociable as punishment for having to travel for ten hours in a cramped, economy airplane.

  “Yes, I’m Misty,” she replied without a trace of a friendly smile. She nodded toward Brick. “That’s my bodyguard, Brick, and you’ve already met Gavin.”

  “What happened to the nurse who was listed as part of your entourage?”

  Misty shrugged. “When I saw how small the plane was, I decided to leave her behind,” she lied. In reality, she didn’t feel like being bothered with Ms. Peabody.

  Backus didn’t react to the insult. “Why do you need a bodyguard? Surely you don’t expect to get mugged while visiting my home.” Shaking his head in amusement, he took a seat in a plush and roomy, dark blue chair. “Well, let’s get down to the business of healing,” he said with a smirk, clearly doubting that Misty had the ability to cure his infirmity.

  “That’s not what we agreed to. I have to get paid in cash before I lay hands on you.”

  “That’s not a problem, but suppose you’re unable to cure my condition?”

  “Don’t worry; I can heal you,” she said with confidence.

  Backus rose from his seat and plodded across the room toward a library that took up an entire wall. He removed six or seven large, leather-bound books from the middle shelf, revealing a wall safe that was hidden behind the books.

  Misty wondered if the two duffle bags and the briefcase they’d brought along would be enough to store the stacks upon stacks of bound bills that Backus removed from the safe. The money covered the surface of a table and numerous piles were arranged on the floor.

  Carrying a duffle bag, Brick took steps toward the money. Gavin stood still, looking uncomfortable and unhappy.

  “Let’s leave the cash in plain sight until Misty works her magic on my hands,” Backus said, halting Brick’s movement.

  “That’s fair enough,” Misty said, shooting Brick a look that signaled him to back up. She nodded toward the dark blue chair. “Have a seat, Mr. Backus, and let me have a look at your hands.”

  “Aren’t you going to burn incense and launch into an ancient chant to set the mood?” He gave a loud belly laugh.

  “I didn’t know you were a comedian, Mr. Backus. Let me assure you, there’s no hocus pocus stuff; I’m simply gonna lay hands on you and you’ll be healed.”

  Backus tugged on the fingers of the glove on his right hand. “Okay, let’s have a go at it.” From his tone, it was obvious he was skeptical about her abilities, but in his eyes Misty saw a glimmer of hope.

  Several feet away, Gavin gasped when Backus exposed a hand that was unbelievably misshapen, lumpy, and crooked. Brick averted his eyes, looking down at his glossy shoes.

  Misty placed her palm on top of Backus’s afflicted hand and closed her eyes. The moment her hand began to tingle, she knew the healing had begun. She kept her hand in place until the sensation subsided.

  “My hand feels different,” Backus said in an awed whisper.

  “Let’s see how it looks,” Misty said as she removed her hand from his.

  “My God! This is unbelievable.” Backus balled and unballed his fist, and spread his fingers that were no longer bent and deformed from the effects of arthritis.

  “Amazing,” Gavin blurted from the other side of the room.

  Excited, Backus yanked the glove from his left hand and extended his arm. “Here you, go. Fix this one, too.”

  “Hold up, mister. Don’t get greedy, now,” Misty said with a hand on her hip. “I didn’t agree to heal both your hands. You’re gonna have to cough up some more money for your left hand.” She narrowed an eye at Gavin, who had made the arrangements.

  “That’s exactly what I told Mr. Backus,” Gavin said in his own defense.

  “Money’s not an object. I’ll have another million in cash, first thing tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, I have to get back to Philly. You can make an appointment with Gavin.”

  “Can’t you wait one more day?” he pleaded. “I’ll pay you an extra two million if you delay your trip until tomorrow.”

  Brick let out a whistle when he heard Backus’s substantial offer.

  “I have another client tomorrow; I can’t stay,” Misty said with finality.

  “You do?” Gavin blurted.

  She didn’t actually have another client booked, but Backus didn’t need to know that. “Yes, I do.” She frowned at Gavin for asking her a stupid question. She motioned for Brick to start loading up the money.

  “I can fly to Philadelphia in a day or so if that will speed up the process.” Backus had a pleading look in his eyes as he continually caressed his newly healed hand with the deformed one.

  “Gavin and I have to look at my schedule; he’ll be in touch with you.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to be patient,” Backus said with a mixture of irritation and disappointment. He turned his attention to Gavin. “Do you have my personal number?”

  “No, I only have your assistant’s number.”

  “Take down my number, Mr. Stallings,” Backus said, suddenly treating Gavin with respect.

  Misty unzipped the second duffle bag after Brick filled the first. “By the way, Mr. Backus…”

  “Yes?” he asked, wearing a hopeful expression.

  “The next time I travel all the way to Hawaii, I hope you’ll make sure I travel in style. That little-ass plane was insulting.”

  “I apologize. Insulting you wasn’t my intention. I’ll be sure to send my own private jet. It’s a flying palace; you’ll love it.” He flashed another charming smile. “Can’t you trust that I’m a man of my word and I’ll make sure you get paid? What’s the point in flying all the way back home when you can conduct the procedure right now?”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?” Backus’s eyebrows were pulled together as if tremendously perplexed by Misty’s stubbornness. He shot an awkward glance toward Gavin, as if he expected him to intervene and talk sense into Misty. Gavin cleared his throat nervously and avoided eye contact with Backus.

  “No offense, but I don’t trust you or anyone else when it comes to money,” Misty said with a shrug.

  “I’ll give you five million in cash. First thing tomorrow,” he offered in a controlled voice, but with a desperate look in his eyes.

  “Make an appointment with Gavin, and nex
t time we meet, don’t make me wait a whole damn hour,” she said with a sneer. She grasped the handle of the duffle bag and handed it to Gavin. “Let’s go, guys.”

  Misty exited with her head held high, ecstatic to have put the smug billionaire in his place. He’d think twice before coming at her with a snobbish attitude.

  On the way to the waiting limo, Misty stopped walking, looked at her right hand and grimaced as she wiped her hand against the fabric of her dress. “Do you have any hand sanitizer, Gavin?”

  “No, I don’t.” Gavin shook his head with a puzzled look on his face.

  “What about you, Brick?”

  Brick scowled. “I don’t carry hand sanitizer around with me.”

  “Did y’all see that man’s nasty, fucked-up, disgusting hands? If y’all gonna be making money off of me touching and laying hands on muthafuckas, the least you can do is to keep some goddamn disinfectant nearby.”

  CHAPTER 30

  It took a lot of persuading for Thomasina to allow Brick to take Little Baron out for the day, and she only relented after he slid her five hundred dollars.

  “How you can afford to give me extra money?” she questioned with an arched eyebrow.

  “I hit the number. Uh, not the Pennsylvania Lottery, I play the street numbers,” he quickly clarified, not wanting Thomasina to get the bright idea to go after any money she considered to be a hidden asset.

  “How much did you win?”

  Brick gave her a look that told her to mind her business. “So, can I spend the day with my boy outside your home or what?”

  “All right,” she said with a sigh. Regulating Brick’s visits with his son was the only control she had over him. Brick didn’t intend to put up with Thomasina’s unwillingness to co-parent much longer. They were in the middle of a divorce, and she and her attorney were calling all the shots, but now that Brick had some extra cash, he could finally pay an attorney to speak up for his rights and get him joint custody so he could have regular visits with his son that didn’t involve Thomasina watching him like a hawk.

  He hoisted his son up in his arms. “You ready to head out, man?”

  “Yeah, Daddy,” Little Baron said enthusiastically.

  “We’ll be back in a couple hours,” Brick told Thomasina. Thomasina looked like she wanted to be invited along, but that was out of the question. Brick wanted to enjoy his time with his son, not be questioned and accused like a captured terrorist. He could picture Thomasina grilling him about what Misty was up to and whether or not they planned to get married. She didn’t know he and Misty had split up, and she didn’t need to know.

  When Brick drove into the parking lot of Toys “R” Us, his son began pounding on the window. “I want to go in there, Daddy.”

  “That’s where we’re going. Calm down, man,” Brick replied with a chuckle.

  With Little Baron sitting in the seat of the shopping cart, Brick strolled up and down the aisles of the toy store, slinging anything his son pointed to inside the cart. He and his son were attracting a lot of attention, with other kids gazing at Little Baron with envy and single mothers looking Brick up and down like he was a thick, juicy steak.

  One very forward young woman with a cute face and rocking a fatty in her tight jeans, pretended to need Brick’s advice on what to buy her seven-year-old nephew for his birthday.

  “My boy is only a toddler; I don’t know what older kids are playing with these days. Maybe you should ask one of the salespeople,” Brick replied.

  She smiled and thanked him and when she walked away, he noticed she’d placed her name and number on top of a box of Duplo Legos that was inside his cart.

  Having been considered ugly and despicable throughout his impoverished childhood and most of his adult life, he doubted he’d ever get used to female attention. Flattered, he put the piece of paper in his pocket. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get around to using it, but simply knowing he was desired was an ego boost.

  When he dropped Little Baron off at home with a shit load of toys, Thomasina bitched about Brick wasting money on crap that the child would lose interest in within a matter of days. Brick didn’t respond, but wondered to himself how Thomasina would respond to him spending money on a hotshot attorney. Would she consider that a wise investment? He chuckled to himself as he imagined her shock when he fought back on the matter of visitation rights.

  After he left Thomasina’s, he bought two packs of condoms and headed to the strip club. He was in the mood to make it rain on them hoes. Tonight was the night for him and Island Girl, and with a pocket full of money, whatever she charged for a private party, he was sure he could handle.

  • • •

  Brick spent a little over four hundred dollars on Island Girl at the club, paying for lap dances, buying her drinks, and making it rain every time she worked the pole during her set. “How much is it gonna cost me to get you in my bed tonight?” he’d asked a few minutes before the club closed. She’d quoted a price that was more than fair and now they were in his apartment, sweaty bodies entangled in the sheets on his bed.

  Island Girl lay with her head resting on his chest as they both panted, trying to catch their breath after the intense workout. She was more flexible than he’d realized; in fact, she was double-jointed like a contortionist, bending her body in unbelievable positions as she offered Brick the pussy.

  At one point, she sat up, wrapped her legs behind the back of her neck, and locked her ankles. Her pussy was on full display—a wide-open, pink hole, begging to be stuffed with some man meat.

  Although the pussy was right in Brick’s face and appeared easily accessible, trying to get inside it required him to do a great deal of bending and squatting that he hadn’t been prepared for. But unwilling to turn down any challenge that Island Girl put before him, he followed her lead, fucking her in every position she presented. That is, until he caught a painful Charlie Horse in the back of his thighs. After the pain subsided, Brick told her they had to fuck like regular folks who couldn’t bend themselves up like pretzels.

  On his knees and fucking her while she lay on her back, he linked his arms beneath her knees and pulled her closer, and then held her thighs apart. Reminding him that she didn’t require assistance, she stretched her legs open until they were like the hands of a clock in the nine-fifteen position. With Island Girl serving up the pussy so generously, Brick was able to concentrate on beating it up.

  By the time he exploded into the condom, his body, as well as the sheets, was drenched with sweat. Lying in recovery mode, Brick was surprised when Island Girl quickly got a second wind and began swiveling under the covers, moving downward.

  She took the condom off and tied it in a knot at the top and flung it in a waste can. Semen dribbled out of the tip and Island Girl swished her tongue like a windshield wiper across the dome of his dick. She was licking up cum-drops and polishing his thick length like she was giving a luxury vehicle a deluxe wash. Her head game was so serious, Brick gripped the sheets and lifted his butt off the bed like a bitch when she expertly slurped in a mouthful of partially limp dick and a set of balls, working her jaws like a natural-born dick sucker.

  “Damn, girl!” Brick groaned as he felt his nuts tightening and his dick jerking as it came back to life. Once he was fully erect, his balls spilled out of her mouth, and Island Girl quickly cupped his scrotum, caressing it delicately as if his nut sac contained a pair of precious jewels.

  Feeling his dick gliding down her throat, all of Brick’s nerve endings were on high alert and he had an adrenaline rush that was out of this world. With all his senses focused on the sweet sensations inside Island Girl’s mouth, he didn’t hear the clicking footsteps in the hallway until they reached the threshold of the bedroom.

  “What the fuck, Brick!” Misty cried.

  Startled, Brick accidentally jammed his dick deeper into Island Girl’s throat, causing her to choke and cough.

  “Who is this bitch you got in my bed?” Misty shouted, moving swiftly towa
rd Brick and the stripper, and then stopping to take off a stiletto, which she sent sailing toward the stripper’s head.

  Island Girl shielded her head with her arms. “Who is this crazy woman? What’s going on, Brick?”

  “You the one who’s crazy,” Misty retorted. “How you gonna come into another woman’s home and put your stank ass in her bed?”

  “Whoa. Hold up, Misty,” Brick interrupted, jumping out of the bed and holding out his hand defensively as Misty bent to remove her other heel. “I’m about to smack your little ass clean across this room if you throw another shoe in my direction.”

  Brick’s gruff tone put Misty on pause as she recalled the rare occasions when he’d completely spazzed out on her. When Brick went off, he sort of zoned out, and no amount of reasoning could bring him back to reality.

  “You moved out and there’s nothing else between us now. We agreed to be friends,” he reminded her.

  “I know, but why you gotta have a bitch in the bed where I slept?” Misty asked in a weak voice. “Damn, it hasn’t even been a month and you already moved on.”

  “That’s right, and you need to do the same thing. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I came to get some of my stuff.”

  “And it didn’t occur to you to call and see if it was okay to pop up on me in the middle of the night?”

  “No, I thought you’d be sleep. I didn’t expect to catch you fucking a sleazy ho,” Misty said, her eyes wandering to Island Girl’s hooker boots and skimpy clothes that were strewn about the bedroom.

  “Who you calling a ho, you skinny little bitch?” Island Girl barked, her eyes filled with rage.

  Misty waved the stripper off like she was swatting a fly. “You need to put some clothes on and take your slutty ass out of here.”

  “You’re out of order, Misty. You don’t call the shots in my crib. Grab whatever you came here to pick up and then get the fuck out.”