by Lena Scott
Sinclair could see he liked jacking off, and so she took over. He spread his arms, bracing himself on the shower walls, as she ran her hands up and down the soaped penis. He was moaning like it was the best thing ever, and frankly, that was starting to turn her on. A lot.
Faster and faster she jerked at his erection, until finally he exploded.
Malcolm pulled her close and tucked his semi-hardness between her thighs, rubbing against her lower lips. He soaped his hands and felt her up, tugging on her breasts and kissing her neck. The friction felt good, and she couldn’t imagine there being more to this sex thing, because, damn, this was enough. She squeezed her thighs together tight, holding his dick in place, as her lower region pulsated slightly.
“Squat down some,” he instructed, and he did the same. He then stuck his two middle fingers inside her.
She clawed at his arm. “That hurts, Malcolm. That—”
He shushed her and continued, moving his fingers in and out of her slowly, until finally the pain eased a little. Another small quiver caused her muscles to tighten around his fingers. He smiled, as if knowing how good she felt.
“You coming again . . . like you did in the bed?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, Sin, this is gonna be real good to you.”
Just then Malcolm’s cell phone rang in the pocket of his crumpled Timbs. “Shit!”
“Maybe it’s Finest,” Sinclair said. It was a reflex reaction. She surely she did think her first time was gonna be with him.
“I don’t give a fuck about Finest right now.” Malcolm closed his eyes again, allowing the water to clear off the soap.
Sinclair did the same, wetting her hair.
Malcolm stroked her long, curly tresses, following them down her back, where his hands stopped on her butt. He ran his fingers in between her crack and then pulled her close to him again. “Let’s go get back in my bed.”
Sinclair nodded.
As they dried off, curiosity must have gotten the best of Malcolm. He checked his phone. “Why is Mama calling me from the hospital?” he asked.
Sinclair laughed. Surely his mother must have been sensing something nasty going on in her house for real this time.
Malcolm opened his voice mail. His eyes widened as he listened and then pressed the number to repeat it on speakerphone.
“Malcolm, if you see Sinclair, you need to tell her something terrible has happened to her sister’s baby and that she needs to come to the hospital right away. They done brought Cammie in an ambulance. She’s in bad shape too. Might be dead. Don’t tell her that though. Just tell her—” He shut the phone.
Sinclair nearly fainted. The bathroom was suddenly unbearably hot. Too hot to breathe. She braced herself to keep from going all the way down, holding the towel around her. “I-I gotta go,” she said, gathering up her clothes and trying to dress quickly.
Malcolm began helping her, and dressed himself, to accompany her to the hospital.
Tanqueray
Tanqueray stretched out on the big soft bed. She could tell the room had been professionally decorated because it looked just like one she’d seen in Oprah’s magazine. She had never been so right in her life. The spiral staircase in the middle of the marbled floor led up to what she could only describe as heaven. The guestroom.
When they’d reached the airport, Mr. Sinclair was ecstatic to see her again. She just hated that she’d just been with Finest and looked so tore back. Coming off a raggedy high and full of come, she must’ve looked a sight, but he smiled at her like she looked like a dream.
At his huge house outside of Sausalito, he gave her some space and the use of a guest bedroom to fix herself up before dinner.
Mary, one of the personal assistants there, came in right away. “Your bath is ready,” she said.
“My bath?”
“Cecil called ahead. Everything is ready for you.”
Tanqueray followed Mary to the bathroom. “Oh my God!” The sunken bathtub that bubbled with the rhythmic jets of a Jacuzzi released a relaxing aroma. Tanqueray knew her scents. This was definitely jasmine.
After her long, luxurious bath, Mary was waiting again, this time to give her a pedicure and full manicure.
Tanqueray could only purr as the woman massaged her legs and feet to the sound of Michael McDonald pouring through the surround sound speakers, which relaxed her even more. That white boy could sing! Tanqueray swayed to the music, if that was possible.
After wrestling her hair into a presentable style, Mary slid back the heavy doors to a closet that hid top-of-theline designer dresses in all sizes and in beautiful fabrics of all kinds. “Here is some suggested attire,” she said.
Tanqueray found one that fit, a soft animal-print Kay Unger halter. She spun around in the mirror, holding up her hair, and Mary nodded in approval.
The dress flattered the definition in her nice arms.
Mr. Sinclair must have thought the same thing as he stroked her shoulder, running his cool hand down her arm as he pulled her seat out at the huge formal dining table before moving down to the opposite end. The table sat in a great room, which was nowhere near a kitchen.
When the French doors opened, Tanqueray walked in feeling like a queen. Mr. Sinclair’s eyes lit up upon her entrance.
The butler, to Tanqueray’s surprise, a white man, stepped up to pour her a glass full of water, and another of ice tea in. She thanked him politely, and he smiled.
The butler then did the same for Mr. Sinclair, who nodded his response. The butler then whispered in Mr. Sinclair’s ear then walked away.
“Cory informs me we are having chicken for dinner. Chicken. Bah! I hate chicken.”
They both chuckled.
“They are always bossing me around.”
“Then why not ask for something else?”
“He’s in cahoots with my doctor, and well, I’m a slave to them both.”
“Ah,” Tanqueray said, nodding empathically.
He smiled at her response, resting his chin on his wrist, his elbows propped up on the table. He was staring at her. Tanqueray could see his pale blue eyes dancing, even from where she sat at the end of that long table. She pretended to blush and fawn then fanned her hand at him, flirting.
He mouthed the word, “Stop.” He grinned and motioned for her to come down to his end of the table.
She picked up her glass of water and tea and quickly moved over to him.
That’s when he noticed she had no shoes on. “You are a vision of sensuality, dear,” he said, taking the liberty to get familiar. “I see you met Mary.”
“Yes, and she was marvelous.”
“Did you meet Jason and get a full body massage.”
“Oooh, no, but perhaps after dinner you and I . . .” She paused suggestively.
Mr. Sinclair smiled and blushed.
“Perhaps. Or maybe I’ll just watch.”
“Watching is good,” she purred. It was easy for her to play this role. She’d been practicing for it her whole life.
“What do you like about me?” he asked.
“Funny. I was going to ask you the same question,” Tanqueray answered with play in her voice.
He took her glasses from her, pulled her into his lap and kissed her shoulder. It was a nice kiss. Tender. Soft.
“You need to ask Jav—”
Suddenly Mr. Sinclair’s words were cut short by the butler clearing his throat.
“Yes, Cory,” Mr. Sinclair answered, with laughter still in his voice. It was obvious he was used to being interrupted at any time.
Tanqueray’s attention was on Cory too, because he was standing there empty-handed and she was starving. Chicken sounded good to her.
“Mr. Sinclair. Ms.”—He nodded at Tanqueray. “Your phone,” he said, holding up her small cell. It was blinking with a voice message. “Not that Mary was prying, but she happened to notice it was ringing from the Altadena Hospital.”
“The hospital?” Tanqueray asked, jumping up fro
m his lap. She quickly went over to Cory the Butler and retrieved her phone. Swinging her hair off her ear, she listened to her voice message.
“Tanqueray, my God, I hope you get this message. It’s Cammie . . .” Unique’s voice trembled and faltered. “They aren’t sure if she’s gonna make it. Curtis was . . . I can’t . . . just . . . Please, please, if you get this . . . come as soon as you get this. We’re at Alta.”
Tanqueray hung up the phone.
By then Mr. Sinclair was standing as if he read the news on her face.
“I . . .” Tanqueray’s lip trembled. She swallowed hard. “I have to go.”
“Cory, please call Cecil. Tell him to get the night car ready to take Ms. Tanqueray anywhere she wants to go.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Sinclair. You have been so kind to me, and I want to . . . I want to be able to call you after I find out what’s happened to my sister’s daughter.”
“Of course, Tanqueray.”
“Just like the gin.” She smiled sadly before walking out with Cory out to where she would meet Cecil with the car.
Tanqueray Gin was Javina Nation’s favorite drink, Mr. Sinclair remembered.
Mary met her at the car with a pair of slippers. “You’ll need these, sweetie.”
ER
Unique squirmed in her seat. It was impossible to get comfortable, but nobody was really trying to get too comfortable at that moment, not with Cammie fighting for her life in the operation room. She was busted up pretty bad, but thank goodness for her weight, many of her vital organs had been protected. The doctors were able to avoid having to give her blood. Derrick hadn’t left Unique’s side throughout this entire ordeal. He was one in a million, she realized now, unlike Curtis, who was the cause of all this, and nowhere to be found.
“How could I have felt that I loved him?” she asked Sinclair, who had not long ago arrived with Malcolm by her side. Malcolm was a good friend. His mother worked at this hospital and had called as soon as they brought Cammie in.
“You didn’t know. But more than that, Nique, how did we miss the signs? There had to be signs.”
“I should have seen too. I should have seen the signs,” Unique said, her mouth hanging open at the end of each sentence. She was breaking.
Sinclair could see that and hugged her. “No one could have known.”
“So where is Curtis now?”
“Muthafuck besta be hidin’,” Marquis said, growling. He hadn’t said or moved much from where he was since arriving with Sinclair and Malcolm.
When Sinclair called to confirm Malcolm’s mother’s voice mail, Unique told them to stop off in the W.E. to get Marquis. Marquis was in the apartment chilling, but as soon as Sinclair gave him the news, he ran into the girls’ room. Sinclair assumed he was changing clothes, but when he came out with the same clothes on, she had to figure he had gone in and punched the wall, or maybe it was just out of confusion at the shock. She had no time to wonder that deep about his action. She just wanted to get him to the hospital.
Malcolm then called Finest, who came and gathered everyone up in his big SUV. He dropped them off and went to find parking and had been gone for about twenty minutes. Sinclair was impressed at how much he cared. But it was too late for him to win her over now. She and Malcolm had unfinished business, once this was all behind them.
“Cammie is gonna be all right,” Sinclair said aloud. Her prayerful heart was speaking now, because this nightmare needed God, to get through it.
Everyone joined in with well-wishes. “Yeah, she is.”
Unique looked around at everyone and sighed. Marquis said nothing. He just sat silently, as if contemplating something deeply. She noticed Derrick staring at him. It must have been Marquis’ angry face that caught his attention. He moved closer to him.
“Marquis, can I talk to you?” Derrick asked cautiously.
“Fuck nah. You can’t talk to me! Can’t nobody talk to me. When I wanted to talk about the shit wadn’t nobody listening. Now, I don’t wanna talk!” he screamed the last part at Unique in an angry tone, his face twisted in pain and hurt.
Unique began to wail again. It was a crazy scene.
Just then the doors opened, and Tanqueray ran in. She was dressed impeccably. Her hair was full and hanging around her shoulders, and her clothes were expensive and perfectly fitted.
“Why you always in an evening gown?” Sinclair asked before she caught herself.
Tanqueray ignored her and ran over to Unique, who was crying hysterically. “Unique!” she yelled. “Where is the baby? Where is she?”
“I’m right here, Aunt Tang.”
Apple slid out of her seat and ran over to Tanqueray, who scooped her in a tight hug.
“I know you the baby, but I was asking about Cammie.”
“Cammie hurt because Curtis was up on her,” Apple said, causing Unique to howl again and shake her head.
Unique looked suddenly as if she was about to jump up and dance like a church lady on Palm Sunday, stomping and calling out to the Lord to take all the pain away. Sinclair held her tighter.
Finest walked in then. “Shug!”
Tanqueray turned around. Her arms dropped, and Apple slid her body down to the floor. Apple thought it was fun apparently and started giggling and wanted to do it again. But Tanqueray, like a zombie almost, moved toward Finest.
“What the hell you doing here?”
“I’m here with my folks!” he yelled, pointing at Malcolm and Sinclair.
Tanqueray’s head jerked around catching Sinclair’s eyes, which were wider than ever now.
“Who? Malcolm? You better mean Malcolm . . . because that’s my sister and I know you don’t know my baby sister?”
“Houston, looks like we got ourselves a situation,” Malcolm mumbled.
“And what the hell is it to you if I do? What if she was my girl. You asked if I had one and—”
“Sinclair?” Tanqueray yelled.
Sinclair again just stood there as if guilty, even though she really didn’t have anything beyond her thoughts to be guilty for. Her mouth dropped open.
“You fucked Finest? Malcolm asked. “So this wasn’t your first time!”
“No! I mean, YES, Malcolm,” Sinclair shouted.
Tanqueray missed it, getting all up in Finest’s face. “You fuckin’ punk-ass bastard. While you were beggin’ for me, you were fuckin’ my baby sister?”
“What it’s to you, bitch?” Finest said, calling Tanqueray out of her name again. He was swaggering and getting all wild with her. It was clear he was gonna swing on her any minute.
Tanqueray yelled, “You was fucking me and my sister at the same time!”
“He wasn’t fucking me!” Sinclair yelled. She looked at Malcolm, whose face was twisted in anger and hurt. He started for the door, but Sinclair grabbed his arm with all her might. “Malcolm, no!”
“Look, y’all need to take this mess outside,” Derrick said, stepping into the mess. “Can’t you see Unique is—”
“And who the hell are you?” Finest asked, giving Derrick plenty of his angry heat, bumping his chest like the crazy fool he was turning into.
“He’s Mama’s boyfriend,” Gina answered, watching the drama as if watching TV.
“You’re the pervert that was messing with her daughter? Why the hell are you here? You need to die.” Finest reached inside his jacket, as if to draw a weapon.
“You crazy ass, this isn’t Curtis.” Tanqueray jerked her neck and pushed Finest hard. “You don’t know nobody!”
“I’m Derrick,” Derrick said, standing tall to Finest, unflinching. “I’m Unique’s friend. I was with her when Cammie was hit by the car.”
“Cammie,” Tanqueray gasped, taking her attention off the two men and turning it on Unique.
Malcolm pulled from Sinclair and headed out the door of the ER. Sinclair started after him, but Finest grabbed her arm.
“Let her go,” Derrick told him.
“No,” Finest answered.
&nbs
p; Unique had stood and was pacing now. Tanqueray joined her. “Talk to me, Unique,” she said.
“I can’t talk about it.” Unique glanced over at Marquis, who again turned his face away from hers.
“How long you been messing with my sister?” Sinclair asked Finest.
Finest looked over her head, ignoring her.
She jerked her arm free. “I asked you—”
“Why the fuck do you care? You need to go after Malcolm. Tell him the truth.” Finest glanced over at Tanqueray comforting her sister. “Tell him I lied.” Finest attempted to move past Derrick to where Tanqueray and Unique were standing and gathering Unique’s things. They looked like they might be getting ready to get in the elevator, and he wanted to stop Tanqueray to get some understanding over the situation they was in right now.
Derrick too had gone over to help gather Gina and Apple.
Sinclair grabbed Finest’s arm. “You’re a dog, Finest. You hurt Malcolm for no reason. He’s not your punk, he’s a man. He’s my man.” Sinclair turned to head out the door but turned back quickly. “And don’t be calling my sister no bitch. I almost shot a man who called my sister a bitch!”
“You ain’t gon’ do nothing. Get outta my face.” Finest was sounding very smug now. “Shug!”
Sinclair grabbed him. “Her name is Tanqueray. You don’t know nobody!”
“Bitch, look, I don’t have time for your little-girl shit.”
Malcolm, who had just walked back in, asked Finest, “What you call her?” His eyes were red, but he looked altogether the man he was.
“Man, sit the hell down. You ain’t got the balls to front on me like this. You didn’t even know your girl was up to tryin’ to get up on a nigga.”
Sinclair’s heart sank for a moment as Malcolm appeared to turn away from him. Again he believed the lie. But her heart skipped a beat when he turned back and hit Finest hard, knocking him out cold.
“Whoa, shit!” Derrick exclaimed, noticing the new commotion.
“What the hell you do that for?” Tanqueray screamed, rushing back over to the mess.
“Because he’s a real man!” Sinclair yelped.
