Hook'd

by Taisha S. Ryan

  When she hit her orgasm, she arched her back with a soft moan. Afterwards, she sat there weakly, heaving out rapid breaths.

  God, she needed that.

  Chapter 7

  "Can't believe I agreed to do this," Reese mumbled.

  "You know I appreciate this, girl. I owe you one," Yasmine said with a smile.

  After weeks of Yasmine's constant pestering, she finally agreed to her request. It took everything...everything she had, to agree to meet with him. She had to look at the bigger picture. It was about the organization. The women. Their needs. After doing some heavy researching, she learned that Cameron's foundation was well established around the globe. She knew, if they were to negotiate some type of deal, her company, 'Free The Heart' would be well funded and would also gain more publicity, due to him being a prominent figure in sports. Which was exactly what she needed. It wasn't like Free the Heart was struggling. But they weren't doing as well as previous years. Due to the declining economy, they had been facing a financial downturn, forcing them into budget cuts with a lack of effective resources. It wouldn't hurt to acquire more funding. The more, the better.

  Yasmine had set up a meeting at a fine restaurant in Tribeca, where the three of them would discuss their business plan over brunch. If it were up to her, she would've much rather meet somewhere else more private. For one, she wasn't hungry. And two, she wasn't exactly keen on being seen in public with Cameron, the rapist. The last thing she needed was to end up in the tabloids.

  Again, why did she agree to do this?

  "Would you stop looking like that, Reese? I mean, damn. It's just a meeting, not a date," Yasmine joked and Reese shot her a glare. "Seriously girl, you need to loosen up sometimes. Always so mean. I swear you fight bitches in ya sleep."

  "One more word, and I'm walking right out of here."

  "Alright, alright, fine." Yasmine took a sip of her wine.

  "And isn't it too early to be drinking that?"

  "Had a long night. Between dealing with Cam and all the stuff he's got going on, not to mention all these events I have scheduled, I need this drink."

  "I don't even know how you work with him."

  "Who, Cam? Surprisingly, he's not that bad. He's actually one of the easiest clients I've had."

  Reese rolled her eyes. "Oh please. I don't believe that."

  "I'm serious. I know he might seem like this huge asshole, but he's been fine with me."

  "Yeah, because you probably slept with him, that's why."

  Yasmine gasped and Reese grinned.

  "Listen bitch, me and Cam never slept together. I keep it strictly professional. Thank you."

  "Right."

  "And speaking of which, when was the last time you got some, missy?"

  She cleared her throat, folding her legs. "I'll rather not talk about that."

  "No, let's talk about it. How long? 5 years? 6 years?"

  "Three, actually."

  "Pshh, that's still too damn long. I couldn't do it. Walking around with all that sexual frustration. No wonder you're always so mad all the damn time."

  "Say one more word, Yas. One more word." She raised her glass of orange juice, not afraid to throw it on her beautiful hair. Yasmine laughed and Reese shook her head, fighting a smile.

  "I don't even know why I'm friends with you."

  "Because your life would be boring as hell If I wasn't."

  And that was true. They had been friends since college. And ever since she had known Yasmine, she had always been the life of the party. She loved to have fun. Loved to be in the mix. Which was why her career choice fit her so perfectly. But even as vastly different as they were, there was no one else she would rather call a friend. They had been through it all. From heartaches, to triumphs. Both experiencing different milestones in their lives, while supporting each other along the way. And now in their late 30's, their friendship still remained as strong as ever.

  "He's late." Reese scoffed at the time on her phone. They were supposed to meet at 12 on the dot. It was already 12:30.

  "He should be on his way. Maybe he got stuck in traffic."

  Annoyed, she drummed her acrylic nails on the table. "I knew this was a bad idea—"

  "Oh, there he is," Yasmine piped up.

  Reese turned her head to notice Cameron entering the restaurant. With two muscular bodyguards by his side, he strolled through the restaurant with ease, as though he were some sort of king of the town. She could tell he basked in the attention as patrons gasped and snapped pictures. And it left nothing but a bitter stench to her senses.

  When he approached the table, he gave Yasmine a kiss on the cheek. "How you ladies doing? Sorry I'm late."

  He extended his hand to Reese. "How you doing?"

  She dismissed him. "Do you know how long you kept us waiting?"

  He paused, before taking a seat across from her.

  "Sorry about that. Got caught in traffic." He removed his shades and placed them on the table. His eyes roamed her features, before dipping to her breasts clothed in her satin peach button up top. He couldn't even hide his lust as he licked his lips like a deprived dog in heat, only turning her off even more.

  "Sorry, I didn't get your name," he spoke in a smoother baritone.

  "Sharese," she told him unmoved.

  "Nice to meet you, Sharese." He nodded, his gaze dipping to her breasts once again. "I'm sure you already know who I am. No need for the introduction."

  Ugh.

  "Actually, I don't know who you are."

  He chuckled. "What?"

  "What do you play? Football, basketball? Oh let me guess, you’re a rapper, right."

  His face plastered with shock. And it brought her nothing but pleasure to shoot his massive ego down.

  She turned to her friend. "Who did you say this was again?"

  Yasmine gave her a look. "Reese."

  "What is this a game?" He spoke up, and she met his glare. "Cut the bullshit. You know exactly who I am."

  "No, I don't. Sorry, enlighten me."

  "Yasmine, what is this, a joke?" He scolded her.

  "No, it's not a joke. She knows who you are, she's just teasing you."

  Reese rolled her eyes. So much for being a friend.

  "Well, I see we're all being adults here." He scoffed, shaking his head.

  A waiter approached the table. "How're you doing Mr. Lewis? It's a pleasure to have you here this afternoon. Can I get you anything to drink, sir?"

  "Yeah, let me get the most expensive Champagne ya'll have."

  "The Perrier Jouet?"

  "Yeah. Bring that."

  Typical.

  "Sure thing." The blonde haired, waiter turned to the women. "And would you ladies like any refills? Or anything else to drink?”

  "Yes, please." Yasmine handed him her empty glass. "More wine."

  "And you ma'am?"

  "Nothing, I'm fine," Reese declined.

  "Order what you want, baby. I got it," Cameron offered.

  "First of all, I'm not your baby. And second of all, I have my own money. I could pay for my own shit, thank you." She shot back with a pretentious smile.

  Cameron fell silent. Expecting a rebuttal, it surprised her when an amused smile curved his lips, as his thumb slowly grazed the thick hairs on his chin. In that moment, she took notice to his features, realizing how much better looking he was in person. From that smooth coffee brown skin of his, to his thick eyebrows hovering over his fierce dark brown eyes, to his full rounded shape lips that she never expected to look so...luscious up close. When his tongue slid across its plump flesh, she snapped to her senses.

  Ugh!

  She broke her gaze, aggravated.

  "Anything else?" the waiter spoke up.

  Cameron licked his lips, forcing his gaze away. "Uh, nah. Thankyou."

  The waiter left. Reese took a sip of her water and cleared her throat.

  "Anyway, Cameron let's get—"

  "Cam," he corrected.

  She met his
stare.

  "Cameron," she continued and he smirked. "As I was saying, let's get down to business. So, I'm guessing Yasmine's already told you about my organization, 'Free The Heart'. It's a non-profit that provides shelter for battered women. Those who've been abused and raped, something I'm sure is right up your alley. So—"

  "Holdup, what?"

  Yes, she went there.

  "Whatchu tryna say?" He scowled, leaning forward.

  "Oh boy," Yasmine mumbled.

  "You know exactly what I'm trying to say."

  "You tryna call me a rapist."

  "I don't need to. The media's done that enough."

  His fiery eyes pierced hers, as she glared back, not backing down. None of them said a word, battling within the midst of silence. He clenched his jaw, breaking his gaze.

  "Fuck this." He turned to his bodyguard. "Aye, go tell the waiter to cancel the order. We outta here."

  His bodyguard did what he was told.

  "Wait, you're leaving?" Yasmine asked.

  "Yeah. I'm sick of this bitch and her mouth." He stood up.

  "Bitch?" Reese blurted out. "Who the hell are you calling a bitch?"

  "You!" He spewed, before walking away.

  She gasped, appalled. He had the nerve!

  Now causing a scene, the crowd of people pulled out phones, snapping pictures and recording the incident. She should've been embarrassed at the unwanted attention, but she was so damn pissed off to even care.

  "Go on and leave, you damn rapist!" She stood up.

  "Bitch, fuck you!" He spun around and his security blocked him.

  "No, fuck you! I wish they would've let your ass rot in jail, you arrogant son of a bitch!"

  He yelled out obscenities as his security barged him out of the restaurant. Her blood flaring, Reese huffed out rapid breaths. She glanced around at the set of eyes and cameras surrounding her, and suddenly flushed with embarrassment. She plopped herself on the chair.

  "The fucking nerve of him."

  "Oh my god," Yasmine whispered, rubbing her forehead. "I can't believe what just happened."

  "Happy now?" Reese shot her a glare. "Now you see why I didn't wanna get involved with his arrogant ass."

  With a huff, she grabbed her things.

  "Ma'am, we're gonna have to ask you to leave," the restaurant manager approached them.

  "Good. Give me the fucking check."

  Chapter 8

  Cam threw punches against the mitts. His feet dancing around the ring, he followed the rhythm of his trainer, Leo, who caught each punch he threw. Cam hit with speed and accuracy. He counter punched. Jabbed. Bobbed and weaved. Landing each technique perfectly.

  "Alright, time," his assistant trainer, Nelson stopped time on the watch.

  Cam leaned over the ropes, heaving out rapid breaths. Sweat dripped from his skin profusely like a streaming river. His muscles ached so much, he barely had enough strength to stand. That 5 hour work out session burnt him out.

  "Good work. Even better this time." Leo patted his back.

  It relieved him to hear that. It felt so long since he got to train. With such a hectic schedule filled with nothing but press conferences, interviews, and charity events, he hadn't gotten the chance to work on his boxing. It had been only a week and he felt so out of shape. He was used to working out every day, to now barely doing any at all. He was determined to get himself back up to speed though. Despite the fact that his license was still suspended which canceled any prospects of upcoming fights within the next year, he wouldn't let that deter him. He had to keep fighting no matter what.

  Cam took gulps of his refreshing protein shake, before drying his face off with the towel as he sat on the bleachers to rest.

  The sudden ring caught his attention, and he dug in his duffel bag for his phone. He glanced at the screen to see he was receiving a Facetime call and answered.

  His longtime friend, Vance appeared on the screen and he smiled.

  "What's good, bruh?" Cam greeted.

  "What’s up, man? It's been a minute."

  "I know. Look like you just woke up, nigga."

  The way he was slouched on the couch smoking on a spliff, dressed in a crumpled T, with a du-rag on his head, he would've sworn he just rolled out of bed.

  "Shit, I'm at home chillin'. What you up to?"

  "Here at the gym, putting in work."

  "Oh I see. Tryna get ya Ali on, huh."

  "A lil' bit." He smirked.

  "That's whatsup. How's things been going though? Every time I see you, you on the news, bruh," Vance said lightly, causing Cam to scoff in annoyance.

  "You don't even know the half. The shit I gotta go through man..." Cam shook his head.

  "Don't even worry about it. You know the media's always gonna try to tear you down 'cause you're great. That's what they all do. Don't let none of that shit break you," Vance advised.

  "Nah, I won't. Aye, whatchu doing tonight?" he asked, at the sudden thought.

  "Nothing, why?"

  "Alright, good. We're going out."

  *

  Cam relaxed in the white suede seat, vibing along to the ol' school sounds of Method Man's, All I Need, as he blew out clouds of smoke from his Cuban cigar. The purple lighting within the darkened vicinity enhanced the relaxing ambiance, the type of atmosphere he needed at the particular moment. He wasn't in the mood to party. Tonight, he just wanted to kickback and catch up with his boy.

  He took Vance to an exclusive lounge in Harlem, one of his favorite places to hang out in the city. Filled with nothing but beautiful women, good music, and an all-around airy vibe, it was far from Hollywood. Much more low-key. What he liked most, was that he didn't have to worry about being hounded by everyone fawning to get his attention. Instead, people minded their business and enjoyed themselves without a care in the world. And he loved it. Right now, he needed that.

  "Bet you haven't done this in a while, huh?" Cam joked.

  "Nah." Vance blew out clouds of smoke. "My ass gettin' too old for this shit."

  "Granddaddy Vance."

  "Fuck you."

  They both laughed.

  Cam nodded, staring down at his cigar. "Yeah, I felt like it was just yesterday, we was youngins' playing ball at the center."

  "Yeah, and I used to bust ya ass too."

  "What? When?"

  "Whatchu mean, when? All the time!"

  Cam laughed at the fond memory. The good ol’ days. He first met Vance at the local community center in their South Bronx neighborhood, when he was just a mere teenager. Back then, Vance was heavily involved in the programs, even serving as a mentor for many of the youth there. Although Vance was just a few years older, he always had a leadership quality about him that he admired. For a person at such a young age to teach by example, instead of running the streets like many of his peers, was commendable. It didn't surprise him that over a decade later, he became the Executive Director of that very same place. He was proud of him.

  "How's the center going?" Cam asked.

  "To be honest, not too good. The city's tryna tear it down."

  "What?" He frowned.

  "Yeah. They wanna build a coffee shop or some shit. Like why the hell we need a damn coffee shop in the hood? I swear man..." He shook his head, taking a pull of his cigar.

  "Damn."

  The news disheartened him. He loved that place. Having lived in group homes throughout his childhood with no sense of guidance, the recreational center had been a safe haven for him, the very place he developed his love for boxing. The center saved him. And for that, he would always appreciate it. He would hate to see it go.

  "That's that gentrification bullshit for you," Vance spewed.

  "True."

  Over the years, he'd seen the city get rid of so many places in the neighborhood and redevelop them into useless businesses. Now this.

  Fuck gentrification.

  "Aye, whatever it is I could do, let me know. If that means setting up some more charity events,
or donating more money, I'll do it. I'd be glad to help," Cam assured him.

  Vance nodded. "Thanks, man."

  "Anyway, we're not even gonna stress about that right now. We're here. We just gonna sit back, chill, and have a good time tonight. Feel me?"

  "Definitely."

  "And I would say let's bring some hoes over here, but I know Zara would beat your ass so I'm a just leave that alone," he joked in reference to his girlfriend.

  Vance smirked, nodding. "Yeah, you got jokes."

  Cam paused when someone caught his eye. He squinted, wondering if it was just his imagination. There was no way she was here. Small fucking world. After what occurred last week, the sight of her should've repulsed him. But it didn't. Instead, her beauty enticed him. Just as it did the first time he laid eyes on her. There she stood at the entrance, her presence drawing him in like a luminous light in the room.

  Damn…

  She almost looked like a model, with her hair styled into a short spiked cut, bringing out her exotic features. He had never been fond of women with short hair. He always thought it made a woman look manly, for some reason. But not this one. The short look definitely did her justice.

  Her heart shaped face entailed with deep set of sienna eyes, that complimented well with her glowing cinnamon hued skin, her small button nose, and those full thick lips, he was sure would fit perfectly well over his dick. His crotch tightened at the mere thought. His gaze fell to her body. He lifted a brow at her unfitting attire. She looked like she had just stumbled in from work. Dressed in her white blouse, black knee length skirt, and her heels, he figured she had wandered into the wrong place. But even so, that didn’t stop him from admiring that luscious body of hers. From those ample breasts, slim waist and long thick legs, tantalizing his senses the more he stared. And he could only imagine twisting that body in so many different positions until she—

  A tap on his arm snapped him out of his trance.

  "You drooling, bruh," Vance joked.

  "Yo, you know that's the same chick I was fighting with at the restaurant, the other day?"