King's Pleasure

by Adrianne Byrd

  “But you were thinking it?”

  Jeremy dropped his head and made a rare prayer for patience. “Is this how it’s always going to be, man? You, always trying to bait me into an argument?”

  His cousin shrugged. “Maybe. I always thought that it was our thing.”

  “No. It’s your thing…especially when someone asks a question you don’t like.”

  “You’d think people would take the hint and just stop asking questions.”

  “Hey, man. It’s only because we care.” The cousins’ eyes locked. “Whatever it is, you can’t keep running.”

  For the first time in a long while, Quentin didn’t have a snappy reply. Instead, his face turned really somber. “Have you ever done something that you wished you hadn’t—something that you can never take back?”

  “Sure. Everyone has—at some point or another.” Jeremy cocked his head as he studied his cousin. What did you do?

  Quentin shuffled around on his chair, but for some reason he couldn’t get his mouth to work. Then the moment was gone, and the confession, that was just on the tip of his tongue, vanished.

  “Well, what do you know?” Quentin picked up his glass and drained the rest of his whiskey sour in one gulp. “I think there is a hole in this glass.” With that, he stood and then made his way to the bar.

  Jeremy watched him go, regretting the moment that was lost just seconds ago. He still couldn’t help but wonder, What did you do?

  However, he was pulled from his thoughts when his BlackBerry vibrated in his pocket. Duty calls. He leaned over and scooped out his phone. Seeing the name on the caller-ID screen, he smiled and answered. “Eh, yo, man, what’s up?”

  Roy laughed. “Damn, man. You got it crunk up in there, ain’t you?”

  “We got to make it do what it do.” Jeremy laughed, climbing out of his seat and strolling off toward the main floor and the club’s office. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Well, man, you now know what time it is. I’m gonna need you to do a couple of favors since pretty soon I’ma be putting a ring on my lady.”

  “Damn, man. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that one.” Jeremy shook his head as he pushed through the doors, leading toward the back. “Married. That means that you’ll be a grown-up.”

  “You’re telling me?” Roy’s laughed. “But I have to do it, man. Sometimes, one has to piss or get off the pot—and I had a feeling my shawty was about to bolt.”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use that term to describe their relationship before,” Jeremy said, strolling into his office and then launching himself onto the black leather chair. “So if I understand you right, you’re getting married to tie her down.”

  “Got to. Shawty is waaay too fine to be wandering the streets alone. I let that go and another brother would scoop her up before the next sunset. Plus, she got class and a damn good head on her shoulders. But more importantly, she’s loyal.”

  “Well, I guess one of you has to be,” Jeremy jabbed.

  “Right,” DeShawn agreed. “Anyway, man. I got to thinking after I saw you and your brothers the other day.”

  “I knew I smelled something burning.”

  “Ha. Ha. But I want us to be serious for a minute, bruh.”

  “All right.”

  “Like I said, I was thinking. You know me and you have been through a lot over the years. We’ve damn near known each other since we were in diapers. You mean a lot to me, man.”

  “Damn. Are you about to propose to me, too?”

  Roy chuckled. “Nah, but I do want you to be my best man.”

  Jeremy’s eyes rounded. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Like I was trying to say, you’re like the brother that I never had. I want you to be standing next to me when I take this big leap.”

  Touched, Jeremy nodded. “I’d love to stand up there with you man. Count me in.”

  Leigh twisted up her face when Ariel pulled her silver Mercedes into the parking lot of The Dollhouse. “What are we doing here? I thought we were going to an all-male strip joint. This is a gentlemen’s club.”

  “I know what it is. I can read,” Ariel said, shutting off the engine. “We have plenty of time for that later. I just want us to pop in here real quick.”

  “Why?” Leigh folded up her arms. “Is there something that you want to tell me? No judgment.”

  Ariel jabbed a fist up against her hip. “Gurl, stop frontin’. You know it’s strictly dickly with me.”

  Leigh tossed up her hands. “I didn’t know. You’ve been complaining about how bad the dating the scene is. I thought for a second that you were switching teams.”

  “Well, get that nonsense out of your head. There’s a big buzz with some of the fellas in my office about how this place throws the best bachelor parties in town.”

  “And? Are you trying to hook me up or DeShawn?”

  “Chile, please. I don’t want to even think about the shenanigans that are gonna be going on at that man’s party—and I suggest you don’t, either. Nah. We came here for you.”

  “You’re still losing me.”

  Ariel sighed and then spoke to Leigh as if she was a toddler. “If this place can throw great bachelor parties, then they can throw a bachelorette party. The premise is the same. To refuse us is like sex discrimination.”

  “And you would just love to sue their pants off for that,” Leigh finally concluded.

  “Well, I didn’t get a law degree just so that I can dust it off on weekends. C’mon.” Ariel turned and climbed out of her car.

  Shaking her head, Leigh turned and followed suit. “How long do we have to stay here?” she whined, marching up behind her friend. She really was looking forward to drooling over some naked, muscled men tonight—for her party.

  “Humph, humph, humph.” One dude headed toward the front door damn near giving himself whiplash when Ariel and Leigh walked by. “Please say you two are dancing tonight. I cashed my paycheck today and it’s burning a hole in my pocket.”

  Ariel turned with her hand on her hip. “Paycheck? Bruh, where’s your boss at? Tell him to holla at me.” She swiveled her head and then switched her hips past the bouncer at the door.

  “You’re a hot mess,” Leigh said, pulling up the rear. “What’s wrong with a dude pulling a paycheck?”

  “Girl, please. That knock-kneed-beer-belly-need-to-get-his-grill-fixed brotha better leave me alone. Shoot, a brother can’t get a dime piece on credit. No more dates at Taco Bell, sitting on twelve-inch rims in a hatchback. From here on out, if a brother wants to be with me, he’s got to bring what I’m bringing to the table. Period.”

  “All right, then, girl. Do you.”

  “Damn skippy.”

  They finished their short stroll through the lobby and when they hit the main floor, both of their mouths nearly hit the floor.

  “Oh, my,” Leigh said as she glanced around the place. She took in the strobe lights, falling glitter and the most incredibly stacked bodies writhing on gold stripper poles. “This place is like a man’s fantasy world.”

  “Shawty said l-l-lick like a lollipop / She said l-l-lick a lollipop.”

  There was one chick on a stage with silver airplane propellers on her breasts. A customer stuffed hundred-dollar bills down the front of her thong while leaning close enough to her twirling blades to cool off.

  “I think we hit the jackpot,” Ariel said before moving farther inside the club.

  Leigh remained fascinated by everything. It was like they had crashed some secret club and she was taking notes on everything she saw. “So who do we talk to about planning the party?” she shouted over Li’l Wayne’s infectious beat.

  “I’m not sure.” Ariel turned and nearly collided with a waitress in a sheer nude outfit. “Oops. Sorry.”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” the woman said, flashing a genuine smile. “I can keep this tray up during a 7.0 Richter-scale earthquake.”

  The women laughed.

  “Wait.
Maybe you can help us,” Leigh said. “Who do we talk to about booking a bachelorette party?”

  “Oh, we don’t do bachelorette parties,” she said apologetically. “Wish that we did. I wouldn’t mind a little change in scenery from time to time.”

  “And why not?” Ariel challenged.

  “Well, because we don’t employ male strippers, honey.” The waitress thought about it. “But I guess if a lesbian couple wanted a party—”

  “Who’s the boss around here?” Ariel demanded. She was already putting on her lawyer hat.

  “Well, there’s one of them sitting over there. His name is Quentin Hinton. Good luck—and watch out for the dimples. They have a way of seducing you into bed.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Ariel said, straightening her shoulders and then marching off to war.

  Leigh rolled her eyes and rushed after her. “Ariel, this is not a big deal. We can just go to the clubs that—”

  “Excuse me.” Ariel tapped the tall gentleman at the bar on the shoulder. “Are you Mr. Hinton?”

  The man turned around smiling. “That all depends on who’s asking.”

  That waitress wasn’t kidding about those damn dimples. They winked at Ariel and suddenly she was standing as still as a statue.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  Leigh looked at her girl, and then became concerned. “Ariel?” She elbowed her and jarred her out of whatever system malfunction she was experiencing.

  “Um, yeah. I wanted to book a bachelorette party,” Ariel said, forcing resolve back into her voice.

  “Aw, getting married. My condolences.” He held up his glass in a lone toast.

  “I take it you don’t believe in marriage,” Leigh said.

  Hinton shifted his gaze from Ariel over to Leigh and his brows climbed an added notch. “As a matter of fact…I don’t.” He cocked his head. “Hey, don’t I know you?” His eyes narrowed as they roamed over every inch of her body. “Face is familiar, but I’m certain that I’ve never been acquainted with that body. I’d remember.”

  Leigh smirked. “We’ve never met.”

  “No?” he asked, dubious.

  “I’m positive.”

  “Do you want to remedy that?”

  Ariel coughed to clear her throat.

  “The three of us?” he amended.

  Another woman, clearly one of the dancers, eased up behind him and slid her arm around his shoulder possessively.

  “Make that four,” he amended again.

  Both Leigh and Ariel stared at the handsome gigolo, stunned at the offer.

  “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of me to go around,” he promised.

  “I think we’ll pass.” Leigh grabbed Ariel’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Ariel refused to budge.

  “Now, I know that you’re not actually considering taking this dude up on his offer.”

  Ariel’s face flushed with embarrassment, but then she seemed to remember herself. “The party. We want a bachelorette party,” she demanded.

  “Well, that might entail a lot more women than I’m used to, but I guess that I could give it a try. I hear there’s this little blue pill on the market.”

  Leigh laughed. She was actually starting to find him amusing. “We’re not trying to hire you, silly. We’re trying to hire your club. Apparently, word around town is that you’re the best.”

  “I happen to think so.”

  “The club is the best.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, that, too.” He set his drink down on the bar. “Emilio, hit it again,” he said to the bartender and then returned his attention to them. “Ladies, I would love to help you out, because that’s the kind of guy I am. I love putting smiles on women’s faces. But The Dollhouse simply doesn’t do bachelorette parties.”

  “And is there any reason why your business establishment actively practices discrimination?”

  Mr. Hinton groaned. “Lawyer?”

  Ariel smiled. “How did you guess?”

  “The shark teeth gave you away.” He smiled to soften the insult and it worked.

  Ariel just smiled back.

  “I tell you ladies what,” Quentin said. “I’m going to help you out.”

  “Oh?” Ariel crossed her arms.

  “Yeah. And it’s not because of the threat of a lawsuit. That happens from time to time around here. Nah, I’m going to do this because I think I like you two, despite your reluctance to join me and Caramel Swirl here in a night of sexual bliss. So I’m going to introduce you to my close cousin and business partner.” Hinton turned toward the beautiful dancer. “Pardon me, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” He winked and then turned his attention back to Ariel and Leigh. “Ladies, follow me.”

  Jeremy cut the security cameras on by remote in his office as he continued his conversation with his best friend. “You know, as your best man that puts me in charge of the bachelor party, right?”

  “You don’t say?” Roy laughed. “Why, that thought never occurred to me.”

  “Uh-huh. You cheap bastard. You just want a free party.”

  “Free or not. You’re going to do it up, right?”

  “You can count on your boy,” Jeremy said just as his gaze caught a familiar image on the screen. Is that…? He hopped up from the couch and used the remote again to zoom in. Despite experiencing so many false alarms over the past month, his heart still leaped to the center of his chest at the possibility of having found his Baby Girl.

  It’s her.

  “I was thinking that we could do a whole Comic-Con theme,” Roy said on the other line. “We can get The Dollhouse Dolls to dress up as—”

  “Um, Roy. Let me call you back. Something just came up.” Why is she talking to Quentin?

  “Huh? Oh. Okay. Sure, man. Hit me back later when you get a moment.”

  They’re on the move. Where are they going? “Cool. Later.” Jeremy disconnected the call, and then raced out of the office. No. No. No. The last thing that any brother should ever do is leave their woman alone with his cousin. A pair of panties was just not safe within a three-mile radius of that man. Hurry. Hurry.

  Jeremy threw his weight into the door leading back to the main floor at the same moment that Quentin was about to push the door from the other side. The result was Q being knocked back on his ass, holding his nose. “Ah, man. I’m sorry about that,” he said, though truly he wasn’t all that concerned about his cousin at the moment. His attention was completely focused on his Baby Girl.

  “Hey.”

  Eyes wide, she gaped at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “A little help here,” Q said.

  “You two know each other?” Ariel asked, swinging her gaze between the two of them.

  Quentin pulled his hand away from his face. “Uh, I think I’m bleeding here.”

  Baby Girl looked about ready to faint. She turned to her friend. “We need to go.”

  “What? No. We came here to get them to host your bachelorette party.”

  Jeremy heart dropped. “Bachelorette party? You’re getting married?”

  Chapter 10

  Leigh’s brain struggled to process with what felt like an alternate reality. How was it that this man was standing here in front of her—and why was her heart trying to hammer its way out of her chest? “I, uh…” She glanced over at Ariel as if somehow her best friend could help her out of this mess, but how could she when she didn’t know the torrid details of the situation?

  “You know what? Don’t bother,” Hinton said, struggling to get back to his feet. “I’ll help myself up.” He pulled himself up off the floor and then straightened his clothes. “What a selfish ass—”

  “How do you two know each other?” Ariel pressed, crossing her arms in her cross-examination mode.

  Leigh turned toward Ariel. “Let’s talk about it later. Let’s just go,” she hissed, but her low voice was drowned out by Beyoncé’s “Hip-Hop Star.”

  Ariel cupped her ear and leaned over. “W
hat?”

  “Wait,” Hinton said, now swinging his own gaze like a pendulum. “Now I know where I’ve seen your face.”

  “Ladies,” her one-time fling said authoritatively. “You don’t have to leave. You came here for a service. Um, I’m sure my cousin and I here—” he slapped Quentin on the back and passed a look at him “—will be able to work something out?”

  Hinton blinked and then nodded as if some subtle message had been received. “Uh, absolutely!” He turned toward Ariel and turned up the charm. “I take it that you’re the maid of honor in charge of planning the bachelorette party.”

  Ariel puffed out her chest. “I am.”

  Hinton’s smile widened and his dimples winked. “No ring. Does that mean there’s no man in your life?”

  Ariel’s back loosened as she shook her head.

  “Would you like one to be?”

  Ariel blushed. “Well…”

  Leigh couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. This man had effortlessly cast her hard-nosed, take-no-prisoners best friend into some kind of deep trance.

  “Ariel?” Leigh stretched a hand in front of her girl’s face and waved. She couldn’t break the spell.

  Hinton moved forward and eased an arm around her waist. “Tell you what, why don’t you and me head over to the bar and you can tell me what you envisioned for your girl’s party?”

  “Oh, okay,” Ariel said robotically, and allowed him to pull her away from Leigh’s side.

  “Ariel,” Leigh snapped. “Ariel!” But her girl strolled off, stuck to the side of that charmer as if their bodies had suddenly been superglued together.

  “Don’t worry,” the man whom she had once called Big Daddy said. “My cousin will take good care of her.”

  “I think that’s what I’m afraid of,” Leigh said. “If I hadn’t seen that, I don’t think I would’ve ever believed it.”

  “Yeah. Q is quite the ladies’ man. When I saw you on the security cameras, I thought that you were seconds from being snared by him, too.” His dark gaze roamed over her face. “I can’t have that.”

  Seconds ago, Leigh thought the bass bumping through the club’s speakers would shatter her eardrums. Now, staring into his face, her heartbeat took on that thumping sound.