Hook'd

by Taisha S. Ryan

  “Shut up.”

  "I'm serious. Look how relaxed you are. Just before I picked you up, you had a grumpy ass look on your face."

  "No, I didn't."

  "Yeah, you did. Walking around lookin' like Oscar the Grouch and shit."

  "Fuck you.” She slapped his arm with a smile and he laughed.

  "I'm just saying, it's true."

  "Look I wasn't mad, alright. I just had a very...underwhelming night. That's it."

  "Why, what happened?" He walked to his dresser for his box of Cuban cigars. He offered her one and she nodded. He sat next to her, handing her one.

  "I went on a date."

  "And how'd that go?" He asked, lighting it up for her.

  She took a puff of the cigar. "I mean, it was nice I guess. We went to a Broadway show then we had dinner afterwards. But...I don't know. There was no chemistry between us. No spark. Nothing."

  "I always hear women talk about that. The spark. The spark. What is that?" He asked, lighting his own cigar.

  "It's that unexplainable thing you feel with a person. A certain energy that you can't explain, or outwardly pin point. But when it's there, you know it."

  He licked his lips, staring at her. "So, what about me and you? We got a spark?"

  She laughed. "Please. We don't have anything. Speaking of which, I shouldn't even be here in the first place."

  "Why not?"

  "Because, I said I wouldn't sleep with you. And again, I went back on my word."

  "What's the big deal? You think that makes you a hoe or something?"

  "You don't think it does?"

  "No," he said honestly.

  "What makes what we're doing, any different from what you do with the rest of your groupies?"

  "The fact that you're even here in my apartment."

  "And?"

  "I don't bring bitches to my apartment. Period. I know the difference between a real woman and a hoe. And just because we're sleeping together doesn't make you one."

  For a while, they held each other's gaze. She looked away, taking a toke.

  "You gotta learn to live for you, sweetheart. Fuck what society thinks."

  "Cute." She rolled her eyes, turning to the nightstand. She then paused. "Oh you can't be serious."

  "What?"

  She placed her cigar in the astray, then picked up the magazine under the small pile of books. She showed it to him. "Really?"

  He glanced at the cover of the newly printed, CROWN, July 2014 edition, feeling proud. He was well pleased with the cover. The chief editor displayed his favorite shot of himself, shirtless with his championship belt around his waist, posing with two gorgeous models at his side. He looked like a king.

  "What's wrong with it?" he asked, puzzled.

  "What's not wrong with it? It looks trashy."

  "Trashy? How?"

  "Because, the girls are damn near naked."

  He stared at the models dressed in their bikinis, admiring the picture.

  "No, they're not. They got on their bikinis and stuff."

  "Please, I could basically see their asses. Oh, and of course, they're white. Why am I not surprised?"

  "Aye, I didn't pick the models. They did."

  "Mhmm...sureee." She flipped open the magazine. "Let's see what you said..." She arrived at the article and skimmed the page.

  He leaned back against the headboard, blowing smoke into the air.

  She read his words, "I've learned not to trust anyone. Especially women, because all they want is money, fame and all the bullshit that comes with it. That's Hollywood for you. Which is why I'm gonna continue to focus on my career and be the greatest boxer I can be."

  He nodded, feeling his own words. True shit.

  "Wow," she commented. "So, you don't trust women?"

  "Nope."

  "Interesting..." She placed the magazine down.

  "How can I? We all know what they really want. And it sure ain't my personality."

  "Well, you're right about that."

  He swung his gaze to her, picking up on that subtle jab. She gave him a smile, and all he could do was the same. Sexy ass.

  "I see ya ass got jokes."

  "I mean, seriously though. I don't understand you celebrity men. You guys complain about how women are gold diggers, and that they're this and that. But that's all you surround yourself with. Maybe if you men actually sought out some real women who aren't swayed by money and material things, you wouldn't have that problem."

  He sat there, taken aback by the passion in her tone. She blinked away and picked up her cigar.

  "Just...my opinion." She took a pull.

  "So, what about you?" He licked his lips. "Are you one of those women I should seek out?"

  "I wasn't talking about me."

  "Well, I'm talking about you."

  She hesitated. The air grew silent as he waited for a response. Instead, she avoided his gaze, twirling the cigar between her fingertips. And there it was. She was going into her shell again. He realized that to be habit of hers the more time he spent with her. She was always so bold. Always had something to say about everybody and everything else. But when the focus shifted on her, she never had a response.

  "Goodnight, Cameron." She blew out the cigar and placed it in the astray. She then laid in bed, with her back facing him.

  He nodded, deciding not to push it.

  He placed his own cigar in his glass of Henny, then went to sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Reese watched as Yasmine gulped her bottle of wine like a drunken sailor. She knew she should've snatched it away, especially since it was too early to be drinking so much in the afternoon. But knowing Yasmine, she would've just tried to hit her with the bottle so she didn't even attempt it.

  When she had received an urgent message from Yasmine, begging her to come over, Reese cleared her schedule and hurried straight to her house. So, here she was. Seated on her living room couch, waiting for Yasmine to reveal whatever the hell seemed to be stressing her out so much. Dressed in a tank top and boy shorts, with her hair confined in a silk bonnet, she clearly had no plans on leaving for work. Which was unheard of. For Yasmine to miss work, this must've been a serious issue.

  "So, Mandingo proposed to me last night."

  "He what?"

  "Proposed, bitch. Proposed."

  Reese said there in shock.

  "Right after sex." She placed the bottle to her lips. "So we're laying there and this nigga had the nerve to pull out this small, cheap ass, ring he look like he got from the 99cent store. Talking about we should get married."

  She glanced at her finger, only to see no trace of a ring. "Well, did you say yes?"

  "Girl, please. Hell no! What I look like saying yes to his broke ass?"

  Reese breathed out a sigh of relief. "Oh okay, good."

  "The problem is..." Yasmine gulped more wine. "I think I love him too."

  "You what?"

  Before Yasmine could drink anymore, Reese snatched the bottle away.

  "Okay, enough of this."

  "Holdup, I know ya ass didn't just—"

  "Yes, I did. You're drunk." She put it on the coffee table. "What do you mean you love him?"

  She sat back, shutting her reddened eyes. "I do."

  "Yas, please tell me you're joking."

  "I wish I was."

  Reese grabbed the bottle and took her own sip. Now, she actually needed it.

  "At first, I thought it was just me being strung off the D. You know how you get when the sex is so good you..." She paused, then waved her off. "Actually, you don't know. But anyway..."

  Reese rolled her eyes, disregarding her smart comment.

  "I started to realize, I actually do care about him. He makes me laugh, listens to me, eases my stress. Shit, and he's packing. And you know that's definitely a plus, you feel me though!" Yasmine laughed, raising her hand for Reese to slap it.

  "You sound ridiculous."

  She really had to be drunk. There wa
s just no way, she actually meant a word she was saying.

  "So, because the sex is good and he's packing, you think you're in love?"

  "No, it's everything."

  "You said he was broke."

  "He is."

  "With bad credit. Working minimum wage. Just moved out of his mother's basement at 39 years old. And this is the man you love?"

  "Forget it, you wouldn't understand."

  "No, I understand perfectly fine. You obviously let sex cloud your judgement and now you sound like a dumb ass teenager in love. Wake up, Yasmine. This man is not on your level." Reese scoffed, shaking her head. "See, this is why you have to watch who you lay with, because foolish things like this occur."

  "Whatever, Reese. I don't need to hear your shit right now. 'Cause, you should be the last person talkin' about who I lay up with."

  Reese frowned. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

  "It means your past ain't all squeaky clean, for you to be throwing stones."

  "Well, I was young and stupid. But you as a grown, 37 year old woman, should know better."

  "Whateva, I ain't even tryna hear it..." Yasmine took a swing of the bottle.

  Reese wondered why she even wasted her time coming here in the first place. If she knew Yasmine would spew such nonsense, she would've continued with what she had to do.

  "So, I'm gonna go. Are we done here?"

  "Shit, I'm done. I don't know 'bout you. But I'm a just lay here and think about my boo," she slurred, curling herself on the couch.

  Reese snatched the bottle. "Sober up and get to work."

  Disregarding Yasmine's outburst, she poured the wine into the sink, then left.

  *

  "One or two?"

  "Ummm..." Reese bit her lip, thinking.

  Cam lusted at the sight of her gorgeous body laid across his island, like a piece of valuable treasure he was willing to explore. With those aroused breasts he couldn't wait to feast his lips on, to those long cocoa brown thighs his lips burned to kiss, to that beautiful, well-trimmed pussy he couldn't wait to taste in that moment. She didn't understand the type of things he was ready to do to her.

  She kept her eyes shut, which he demanded. He didn't want her to see anything. Just hear his word, and feel every ounce of pleasure he was bound to put on her.

  "C'mon, girl. Time is ticking."

  "Alright, two."

  He picked up the whip cream he deemed as choice two.

  "Where you want me to put it?"

  "Right here." She pointed to her breast.

  "Nah, I want you to say it while you touch the spot."

  "My breasts..." She bit her lip, caressing them.

  He sprayed the whip cream on her nipple, and she shivered at his touch. His tongue traced her mounds, savoring the sweet flavor of the cream as her chest heaved.

  "Where else?"

  "My neck..." she ran her fingers across it slowly.

  He sprayed some on her neck, then leaned in, gliding his tongue along the trail of cream, and a soft moan escaped her lips. He planted his lips on hers, unable to resist and they kissed passionately. When some remnants of the cream lingered on her bottom lip, he licked it off clean. He pulled back, watching her as she licked her lips, squirming on the counter.

  “Cam…”

  When she opened her eyes, he ordered, "Aye, what did I tell you? Keep them eyes closed."

  With a sigh, she shut them.

  She had to be patient.

  She was so used to having things done her way, when she wanted it. But not when he was around. When it came to sex, especially, she had to bend to his rules, do things his way, and how he wanted it.

  "Where else you want me to put it?"

  Her fingers trailed down her stomach to her womanhood.

  "Right here..."

  "Say it."

  "My pussy..." she whispered in a sultry tone. Just hearing him utter that turned him the fuck on.

  "Touch yourself first."

  She hesitated. Which he expected.

  As bold as she might've acted outside of the bedroom, when it came to sex, Reese was very much reserved. Probably because all the men in her past hadn't been hitting it right. It had to take the right man, at the right time, to open up a woman's sexuality. To make her feel liberated. Uninhibited. And that's exactly what he wanted to do.

  She slowly rubbed her clit, heaving in deep breaths of pleasure. She kept her eyes shut. Her toes curling, as she touched herself. Just the sight, aroused him even more and it took all the restraint in the world not to grab her off the table and fuck her senseless. Her breathing deepened as her moans became more profuse. Her mouth opened, as she arched her back. She was about to cum.

  He nodded, satisfied.

  He brushed her hands away, and sprayed the whip cream on her ripe clit. With hunger, he thrashed his tongue on her nub, and she gasped, cursing under her breath. They linked hands, as he pleased her the best way he could. Her body squirmed. She twisted and turned, screaming out his name as she reached her orgasm.

  Before she could recover, he grabbed her off the counter and brought her to the living room. He wasn't done with her yet.

  *

  They laid there breathless, regaining their lost strength.

  "What time is it..." he mumbled.

  She lifted his wrist, glancing at his watch. "Minutes to four."

  "Damn."

  They had been sexing all night, time seemed to have flown by without him realizing it.

  "Don't you gotta get up for work in the morning?"

  "Mhmm...." She kissed his chest, crawling on top of him.

  "You gonna be a zombie in the morning."

  She chuckled. "I'll be fine. I got my daily fix, so that's all that matters."

  All he could do was laugh. It still amazed him that this was the same person he met 4 months ago. Before, he couldn't even get her on a date without having to bribe her, and here they were, sexing like no tomorrow. This had become their daily routine. She would come over in the wee hours of the morning and they would fuck till they both went to sleep.

  "I think I pulled a muscle."

  "Really?" she spoke.

  "Yeah."

  "How?"

  "When I busted my ass on the rug."

  They both laughed.

  "Cameron, how did we even end up here?" Reese looked around, confused.

  "I don't even know."

  They had both started in the kitchen, then they ended up in his living room, fucking on the couch...the coffee table...the grand piano. How they ended up on the hallway floor by the bathroom, he had no clue.

  "What happened here?" she asked, tracing her fingers along his bruised temporal bone. "It's swollen."

  "Was sparring with my trainer earlier."

  She shook her head. "I don't know how you do it."

  "Do what?"

  "Beat people up for a living."

  He smirked. "Ain't no feeling like it."

  "What made you wanna do it?"

  "Boxing, you mean?"

  She nodded.

  "It was the only thing that kept me on the right path. I was a troubled kid growing up." He stared up at the high ceiling, reminiscing. "Used to fight all the time. In school, in the streets. Everywhere. I was real lost back then. But, it was only until my boy Vance got me to join this rec center in my neighborhood, where I began boxing. Been history ever since."

  "How long have you been doing it?"

  "Since I was 16."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah..." He let out a sigh. "Sometimes, I think boxing saved my life."

  Silence arose as they delved in their own thoughts.

  "Did you grow up with both of your parents?" she asked after a while.

  "Nah. I grew up in the system. My moms gave me up when I was 3, didn't even know why. Supposedly she left my ass on the street...never came back. Never knew my pops either. You know, typical shit." He shrugged as he spoke. Those years of pain, hurt, and emptiness he felt as a child
had long dissipated. He had been through a lot growing up. Abandoned, neglected, pushed around, told he wasn't shit. But now as a man, who had become successful and built his own empire from the ground up, he showed the world and most importantly himself that he was no longer that weak kid they doubted. And he would never be. No matter what, they couldn't break him.

  He snapped out of his thoughts to find Reese staring at him. There was a certain look in her eyes he didn't recognize.

  "What?" he asked.

  "Nothing," she whispered.

  He grazed his thumb across her check, enthralled by her beauty.

  "So, what's your story?"

  "My story?"

  He nodded. "What makes Reese Wilson the woman she is today?"

  She grew quiet and he waited for her to speak. But just like he expected, she had retrieved to her shell once again.

  "Too deep?"

  She nodded.

  "Okay." He didn't push it.

  "On that note..." She kissed his lips. "We should get to bed."

  With a faint smile, she stood up. He watched as she hurried upstairs, too lazy to follow her.

  Chapter 20

  "Nice doing business with you, Mr. Lewis. We look forward to embarking on this new journey with you. And we are most confident you will bring this brand to a higher level."

  Cam stood up, shaking the hand of the CEO. "No, thank you. It's an honor to be a part of the team."

  He wanted to jump for joy. He had been able to land a 15 million dollar endorsement deal for the energy drink, ‘Refresh’, one of the top ranked brands in the country.

  The company had reached out to his management with interest in doing business with him. And immediately Cam agreed and scheduled a meeting. He had flown out to LA to meet with the CEO and the executive team at the Refresh Headquarters. After discussing the deal and reviewing the contract with the presence of his lawyer, financial advisor, and Slick, Cameron signed the contract with no hesitation.

  It had been such a blessing to even land this endorsement. Apart from the fact that he had been a fan of the brand for years, but to even be considered a prospect despite having such a tarnished reputation, he couldn't have felt more honored.

  After the meeting, Cam walked out of the conference room with a sigh of relief.

  "That's what I'm talking about." Slick wrapped his arm over his shoulder, patting his chest. "What did I tell you, huh? Didn't I tell you we were gonna turn this whole shit around?"