If Only For One Night
Page 19
“Oh, hell yeah I see him!” she said, blinking her eyes. She licked her lips and was damn near drooling out of the mouth. So were every other woman and some men in the place.
The man in front of me sighed. “Nicole, why in the hell are you playing? What the hell is wrong with you? You told me to meet you here, so I’m here. Question is . . . are you going to do me that favor or what?”
The problem is I didn’t know what favor he was talking about. I had told him I would suck his dick and make his eyes roll back like Wal-Mart prices and some other stuff that I don’t care to mention right now. Hey! Don’t you dare judge me! I am rolling my eyes at all of you right now for judging me for doing what many of you would do, too.
“Like for real?” I asked, still gazing at him and not believing that he was in my presence. I must have looked like the damn fool right now. “I can’t believe you’re real?”
The second sigh he released implied that I was annoying him. “I told you that your face would crack, if you ever saw me in the flesh. You were one of the main people in My World on Facebook, talking shit about not believing me.” He held out his hands. “As you can see, I am really standing in front of your ass. Of all people, I thought you would know better, Nicole.”
I gave a very visible shiver. My name spilling from his sexy lips turned my boiling insides hot, then cold. Lawd help me! I looked him up and down, then down and up and I couldn’t help it, my eyes stopped at his mid section. I swallowed at the well defined lump. I, too, wet my lips with my tongue, and I looked up, only to find him smiling.
“Stop staring at my dick,” he said, bluntly. “Come on and go with me. You said you would take me where I needed to go.”
His words rang out loudly, and everyone else started to look. I snapped out of my dazed haze and slowly stood. I just had to touch him to make sure he was there, so I did. The Brooks Brothers suit was unmistakable, and I even grabbed his wrist to examine his diamond-filled Rolex. After inhaling his panty-dropping cologne, I stood on the tips of my toes, searching into his gray eyes to make sure they were real and not contacts.
He grabbed his crotch and sarcastically asked, “You want to measure my dick too, Nicole?” I do have a tape measure in the trunk of my car, I thought. He must have read my thoughts.
“Maybe later,” he said. “Right now, I need you to get me to where I need to go. Since you said you would, I would like for you to keep your end of the bargain.”
I was reluctant to leave, and kept looking around the room, just to make sure I wasn’t in a dream. He pinched my butt hard, slightly turning my skin.
“Ouch,” I yelled, rubbing my butt. “That hurt!”
“Hopefully now, you know you’re not dreaming, baby. Let’s get this show on the road, and where’s your car?”
My car? I thought. Oh Lord, here we go. I knew this man was a stickler for image. I hoped my 2009 Nissan Altima was up to his standards. Last thing I would want him to do was call me out on it. Speaking of image, I touched my hair and ran my fingers across my lips. I must have been a sight. I had on House of Dereon ripped hip hugger jeans, some Chanel thong sandals and a no name black wife beater. I glanced at my toes and nails, making sure no cracks or chips were on my French manicure. I wanted to kick myself for being so critical of how I looked. I couldn’t believe this fool had me up in here scared to simply be me. I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes before snatching up my purse. It was apparent that Barnes & Noble on Mt. Zion was not ready for this man. It seemed as if everybody was tripping over themselves looking at him. I passed by a young lady reading Naughty No More and watched the way she looked from the book to the man walking behind me. Her mouth was hanging wide open, and the look on her face was priceless.
The man stopped and stood right in front of her. “Good book, huh?”
She couldn’t even get a word out before stuttering and spilling hot coffee all over her lap. He chuckled a bit and we walked out into the sun. I hit the alarm on my car. I was so happy I had taken that thing to get a thorough detail earlier this morning. Out of habit, I took his briefcase and opened the passenger side door for him. I used the key to pop the hood to my trunk and placed his briefcase there before going around to the driver side and sliding my ass onto the plush leather seats.
His scent overtook the scent of strawberries and bananas floating around. I watched as he adjusted his seat and leaned back.
“I haven’t had much sleep. You don’t mind if I just lay back and chill do you?” he asked.
I didn’t say a thing as I watched him remove his suit jacket and neatly lay it across the back seat so it wouldn’t wrinkle. He then leaned the seat back as far as it would go and propped one arm behind his head, the other hand across his eyes. My eyes traveled from his tanned neck, to his chiseled chest, over to his muscular arms, and down to his perfectly cut abs. As I observed the famous lump between his legs again, I continued on down his thighs, then back up to his lap.
He cleared his throat. “Stop staring at my dick and drive, Nicole.”
I smacked my lips together and sucked my teeth. “Nobody’s staring at your dick,” I lied. I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. Once the light turned green at the four-way stop, I asked where I needed to be going. He told me, and I hit 75 North, heading towards Buckhead. I put the address he gave me into my GPS navigation system and glanced at him again. OH MY FUCKING GAWD! I still couldn’t believe this man was in my car!
“So, you are really real?” I asked, breaking the silence.
It was a while before he answered. I thought he was asleep. “No. I am only a figment of your imagination.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny. But no, for real? So you and Ms. Brenda Hampton actually are two different . . .”
“Yes, Nicole!”
“Ok. Geeze! Was just asking.”
I turned the volume to the radio up and let Verse Simmonds ask to buy me a round. Of course I couldn’t keep my mouth closed, as I had some shit I needed to say and ask. I turned the volume down.
“So, how are things with you and the wife?” I decided to start off a little slow.
“It is what it is,” he answered from behind his arm.
“Are you still addicted to Krispy Kreme a.k.a. Scorpio? I am sure the ‘HOT’ sign is still always on?”
He removed his arm and lifted his head just a little. “I see you’re already ready to start some shit, huh?”
I shrugged, “I’m just asking.”
“Why are you asking questions that you either already know the answer to, or don’t want to know the answer to?”
“So what does that mean? You’re still fucking the cesspool? Impossible that you want your marriage to be fixed,” I said, shaking my head.
He didn’t respond. Not like I cared.
He finally sat up straight and looked over at me. “Why do women think that a man doesn’t love one woman just because he fucks another?”
“Because in doing so, you know it will hurt her. You can’t claim to love someone, and then intentionally hurt them.”
“Who said I did it intentionally?” Annoyance was laced in his voice.
“How else do you explain sticking your dick in that slut monkey mistress you have and continuing to do so?”
“Why do you refuse to call her by her name? And for the record, she ain’t the only woman I have slept with.”
“Yeah, but she is the one that’s causing you your marriage. But for whatever reason, you don’t get that. So, tell me, is it that impossible for you to care about your marriage or your wife for that matter?”
His brows rose. “How in the fuck are you going to tell me how I feel about my wife?”
“Because obviously your ass is confused, or you don’t know your damn self.”
“Damn it!” he said, looking over at me with seething anger. “I didn’t come all the way to Atlanta to do this shit with you! If you want to talk, why don’t you talk about giving me some pussy or something?”
I snapped
my neck around to look at him. “Pussy is what got you where you are now. I ain’t about to give you no pussy. You out of your damn mind? Unlike your side ho, I don’t fuck married men.”
He quickly calmed himself and laughed a bit. That annoyed me, so I turned up the volume to the radio as loud as it could go. Twenty minutes later, I pulled my car into a subdivision called Castleberry Hills. My mouth hit the floor. The houses in the neighborhood were way over the term mansions. These things were castles. He turned the volume down on the radio and told me to keep driving until I got to 1325 Monte Carlo Drive. I pulled into the long driveway. The house was in a cul-de-sac with a lake view and private backyard.
“Who lives here?” I asked, being nosey.
“Nobody. Yet.”
A platinum colored Jaguar pulled in behind us. A blonde haired white woman stepped out of the car. She looked like she could pass for that blonde chick from The View.
“Do you remember when you asked if you could be my personal assistant?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Well, for today, you’re hired. I am going to go introduce myself to this ditzy motherfucker. In my briefcase, there are two manila envelopes. I need both, a ball point pen with black ink and my wallet.”
Before I could ask where his wallet was, he had stepped out of the car. It took me a minute to register all that was happening. I watched as he smiled on cue with everything she said, or whatever lame ass joke I knew she was telling. I stepped out of the car and immediately her smile faltered. She eyeballed me like I had the black plagued.
“Is uh, is this your wife?” she asked with disdain in her voice.
“No. Nicole is my assistant. She will be helping me with some minor details as we tour the house.”
“Oh, okay,” the blonde bitch said, quickly ushering him by me. When she walked past me, she moved her shoulders so she wouldn’t brush up against me.
Oh no this bitch didn’t, I said underneath my breath.
I quickly made my way to the trunk, but when I got to his briefcase it had a number lock. Now, he didn’t tell me how to open this sucker. I stood there for a while, fumbling with the combination. I quickly thought back to what I knew about him. He and his son were born on the same day. I put in the month and the day with his year of birth and ta-da! I quickly grabbed the two manila envelopes. Out of all of the damn pens he had, not one was black. I closed the trunk and rushed to grab my purse. Didn’t find a black pen in there either. and I was on my way up the plethora of stairs when I remembered to get his wallet. It wasn’t in his briefcase, so I quickly checked his suit jacket and found it in an inside pocket. I jogged up those steps and into the house. If you thought my mouth dropped just from looking at the outside of the house, then the 12 feet Cathedral ceiling and entrance foyer alone gave me an orgasm.
“Daaaamn,” I whispered.
I heard him and the blonde chick talking and laughing as they toured the house. I walked into the kitchen and saw that she had laid her legal pad and pen on the bar. I stole her pen. Hey, he said he needed one. He didn’t say where and how to get it. I decided to tour the kitchen that was bigger than the whole first level of my townhouse. This was a bad ass spot. I did notice a few things that I thought he would want to see up close, before closing the deal if he was buying this place. Like when I turned on the water, the water pressure wasn’t that great and there could have been more quality fixtures in here. Also, there seemed to be water damage on one of the panels near the pantry. I pulled my digital camera from my purse, snapping a few pictures. After they left the front room, I walked behind them. I stood in the middle of the living floor and jumped up and down. Blonde bitch looked at me.
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” she asked. She was clearly annoyed.
I threw my hand back at her. “Oh, you never mind me,” I said with a plastered smile on my face and the most valley girl voice I could find. He didn’t say a word as I jotted down a few notes. Oh, yeah, I stole a few sheets from her legal pad, too. Don’t judge me!
When I jumped on the floor it flexed, which meant it wasn’t solid. I looked up to the roof and it looked neat and properly aligned. There was one wall in the hall that was bowed and not squared. I could tell that I was getting under the blonde bitch’s skin, because she kept throwing daggers at me with her eyes over her shoulder, every time she thought he wasn’t looking. I was tempted to accidentally push that bitch down the stairs, but didn’t want to mess up this deal for him. By the time they were done touring the house, it was almost an hour later. I had used up every inch of those three sheets of paper and snapped more pictures than I knew my camera could hold.
“So, what do you think?” Blondie asked him.
He stroked his perfectly-shaped goatee and nodded. “I think I like it. I like it very much. How much did you say it was on the market for again?”
“Seven million, and six hundred thousand dollars,” she answered with a smile that said she saw dollar signs.
“How soon can we have this done?”
“Today, if you want. It is still early and I’ve got some friends over at the bank that could take care of everything before lunchtime.”
He looked at his Rolex and was about to answer. I interrupted.
“Excuse me sir, but I have a list of things here that you should take a look at before you make any decisions.” I handed him the papers. If looks could kill, the blonde bitch would have killed me ten times over. She gave a fake semi chuckle. “I am sure that whatever . . .”
He instantly cut her off, “When was this house built?”
“Just last year in ‘09,” she answered.
We stood there silent again, as he looked over every single thing I had written down.
He turned to me, “Show me what else you have.”
“I actually snapped a few pictures,” I answered, moving closer to him. I noticed Blondie had a laptop powered up in the kitchen and started to walk that way.
“You don’t mind if we use this do you?” I asked, not giving her time to answer before turning the laptop to face me. I removed my memory card and inserted it into the slot for it. Immediately pictures popped up of the things I had found. I placed a smirk on my face, as he sat on the barstool and looked over the pictures one by one.
I pointed to the picture on the screen. “And also, in the front room, in the very middle of the floor when I jumped up and down, it flexed which means it’s either not on solid foundation as it should be, or someone overlooked something.”
He slowly nodded, continuing to scroll through the pictures.
“I am sure that whatever problems you find, sir, they can be fixed without difficulty,” she said in a sing-song, kiss-ass voice.
“So you knew about these problems?” he asked, touching the hair on his chin.
Blondie looked a bit nervous now. “Well, sir, we actually just didn’t think it took away from the appeal and value of the home…”
“You don’t think the floor moving is a problem, or this water damage? What’s with the water pressure? I like to keep my ass clean and I would like to know that I could get enough running water to do that. Was it a rush job on the halls, because it is clear that it’s not squared as it should be. This is a lot of money I am willing to spend. Not just any money. My money! I don’t like to be conned, no matter how big or how small, Ms. Winters.”
Oh, the blonde bitch had a name. I smiled at her, showing all thirty-two of my damn clean white teeth.
“Well, I . . . I am in a position to knock a few numbers off for minor infractions,” she nervously spit out.
He folded his arms in front of him and nudged his head to the chair beside him. “Let’s talk and have a seat. Since I like this house, I am willing to listen. I did fly all the way from Miami Beach for this, so negotiate.”
Another full hour later, the house was down a whole million and five hundred thousand dollars cheaper. If I had a word to describe how that bitch was looking when she handed him those keys, it would have be
en priceless!
“You can either leave the key in the lock box on the door or keep it with you. I will meet you at the bank in the next hour,” she said before damn near storming off to her car. I stood at the door, waving at her like I had just bought the house.
I turned to find him staring at me, rather at my ass. “If you take a picture, it would last longer,” I told him. I walked past him to the kitchen so I could gather my purse and belongings. I heard him chuckle a bit.
“By the way, good job,” he told me.
“Thank you,” I said, placing the strap to my purse on my shoulder. “Are you ready to leave?”
His seductive eyes looked me over. “No, not yet.”
Before I could ask why, he had swooped down on my ass like a hawk.
“Well damn,” I said, slightly backing away from him. My heartbeat was beating with an unsteady rhythm. “What the hell? Move! You’re in my space.” Don’t know who I was trying to convince to move, him or me.
“That was some sexy shit you did back there. Nothing sexier than a woman who knows how to handle business. You got brains to match your body.”
Well, I knew I had a fat, round, plump ass and round hips. My chest held 36D’s and my waist was small enough. I was thick in every sense of the word. He had me pressed against the counter and my pussy felt like it was Crip walking in my black lace boy shorts.
“Thank you. Now, will you give me fifty feet?”
I was having difficulties looking into his gray eyes that were so addictive. He was making it hard for me to think with his scent invading my nostrils and my senses.
“Damn you smell good. What is that?” I asked.
He pointed to his chest. “It’s called, Me. I give off my own scent. You smell the scent of when my dick gets hard and I want to fuck.”
My eyes damn near popped out of my head and throat went desert dry. I tried to swallow, but couldn’t.
“I can’t. I don’t fuck married men,” I quickly said.
He turned me around and pulled my ass directly so I could feel that hardness he was talking about. I dropped my head and moaned out in frustration when I felt him move my hair to the side to expose my neck. When his lips brushed across my neck and shoulders, my pussy juices saturated my boy shorts. So much so that I swear I felt juices running down my legs.