Talk a Good Game
—Game Series—
Sasha Campbell
Angie Daniels
Table of Contents
1 – NYREE
2 – JANELLE
3 - NYREE
4 – JANELLE
5 – NYREE
6 – JANELLE
7 – NYREE
8 – JANELLE
9 – NYREE
10 – JANELLE
11 - NYREE
12 - JANELLE
13 – NYREE
14 – JANELLE
15 – NYREE
16 – JANELLE
17 – NYREE
18 – JANELLE
19 – NYREE
20 – JANELLE
21 – NYREE
22 – JANELLE
23 – NYREE
24 – JANELLE
25 – NYREE
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27 – NYREE
28 – JANELLE
29 – NYREE
30 – JANELLE
31 – NYREE
32 – JANELLE
33 – NYREE
34 – JANELLE
35 – NYREE
36 – JANELLE
37 – NYREE
38 – JANELLE
39 – NYREE
40 – JANELLE
41 – NYREE
42 – JANELLE
43 – NYREE
44 – JANELLE
45 – NYREE
46 – JANELLE
47 – NYREE
48 – JANELLE
BOOKS BY AUTHORS
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Copyright 2014 Angie Daniels at Smashwords
Copyright 2014 Sasha Campbell at Smashwords
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Talk a Good Game
—Game Series—
Sasha Campbell
Angie Daniels
1
NYREE
I was talking to Veronica when I spotted Janelle Fox strutting her thick ass back to our table.
“What do you have now?” I asked and frowned at the fresh drink in her hand.
“Hell if I know. I just told the bartender to make sure it had vodka in it.” Janelle laughed and Veronica and I joined in. Everyone knew my girl can drink you under the table. I’ve known her long enough to know, she rarely knew when enough was enough.
“Did you get a chance to holla at Chuck?” I asked.
Janelle blew out a heavy breath as she flopped down onto the chair to my right. “Girl, trifling! I tried to ask him how his parents were doing and the second he opened his mouth, I smelled his breath.”
“Hell nah!” Our good friend Veronica Houston, tall and attractive, was practically falling out of her chair.
While sipping from the glass in front of me, I looked across the room at Charles. Chuck Beats was who he was known as. He was the radio host of ‘After Dark Talk’ on 101.2. He had a deep bedroom voice that could make a chick want to drop her panties. Chuck and Janelle used to date back in the day until his ego got in the way of their relationship. I guess he didn’t get the memo. When it comes to Janelle Fox it has to be all about her or she’s off to the next.
I glanced over at her licking her lips, shamelessly, as she scanned the ballroom for a candidate worthy enough to take home. My eyes traveled from Janelle’s designer shoes, up her shapely legs to the red dress that hugged her thick curves. Janelle had the cutest shape with big titties, a small waist, wide hips and ass for days. I’d always admired her dark mahogany skin and big chocolate eyes. Getting a man had never been an issue—keeping one was the problem.
We were all laughing and talking at the same time when the lights dimmed and the MC was once again on the mic.
“Ladies and gentleman, the bride and groom will now have their first dance.”
I watched as Gloria stepped out onto the dance floor in a beautiful white floor-length gown that accented her petite frame. We had attended Columbia College together and became good friends. Back then she had been all about getting her education. Now it was quite obvious the only thing on her mind was that fine-ass man dragging her into the circle of his arms.
Their wedding had been held at Second Baptist Church followed by a reception at the Holiday Inn Executive Center with over five hundred guests. Everything had been perfect from the pink roses down to the tender roast beef.
All three of us were quiet as we watched them dance together to Luther Vandross’s ‘Here and Now’. The way Gloria’s husband was looking at her it was like she was the only person in the entire room. Hell, I’m not going to lie. I was happy but jealous as all get out.
“Damn, I still haven’t had a chance to ask Gloria where she met him,” Janelle said as if she’d read my mind. She’d never admit it but there was envy in her eyes as well.
“Gloria met Pierre online.”
We both turned on our seats and looked at Veronica, my crazy-ass light-skinned friend, who could have been Vanessa Williams’s little sister.
“Online?” I repeated.
Smiling, she leaned over the table and nodded. “Uh-huh. Gloria met him on that site they’ve been advertising on television, www.Blackfolksmeet.com.”
“What? I’ve seen the commercials.” I gasped. “Wow! I didn’t know that.”
“Neither did I,” Janelle said and looked equally surprised. “I can’t believe she met someone that fine on the Internet.”
Veronica nodded. “I know. Right. When she told me that I was shocked.”
I was still shaking my head with disbelief. “I thought only busters posted personal ads.” I was still trying to process what she had said.
“Exactly,” Janelle mumbled.
I turned toward the dance floor, again. Damn, Pierre was fine. When I had first spotted him standing at the altar I was floored. Getting a woman shouldn’t have been a problem for him at all. How’d Gloria get to be so lucky? Better yet, when was it going to be my time to shine?
“Here’s my take on online dating…” Veronica began as she waved a finger in my direction. “Everyone doesn’t have time to be hanging out at the club, so if you’re not into that type of thing how else are you going to meet somebody?” she added with a shrug.
Janelle brought the drink to her lips. “I guess you do have a point. But damn! It’s like that?”
I laughed. “I know that’s right.”
Veronica grinned and sat back in her chair, sending her curls bouncing. “Hey, the proof’s in the pudding.”
“True that,” Janelle chimed in as she swayed her head from side to side, showing off her bone-straight weave.
I continued to gaze out onto the dance floor. The way Gloria was staring up at Pierre, grinning from ear to ear, she knew everyone was looking and was enjoying every minute of it. “I think I might have to check out that site.” My thoughts were consumed with envy so I wasted no time reaching into my small purse to look for something to write on.
“Hell yeah.” Janelle reached over and grabbed a napkin. I settled for a business card some fat dude had given me when we had first arrived at the reception.
Glancing over at Veronica, I asked, “What’s that site again?”
“Black folks meet dot com.”
I scribbled down the web address, then returned the card and the pen to my Louis Vuitton purse. �
��The way my luck has been lately. It definitely can’t hurt.”
Janelle looked at me with a knowing look. “That’s for sure.”
She’s never been married. None of her relationships have lasted for long. But I wasn’t one to talk. I married right out of high school to a dude who was a straight joke. Shane was too busy trying to be a rapper that he felt being married would stand in his way. Since then I’d had numerous dead-end relationships and have even been engaged three other times but none ever amounted to anything. It seemed the older you get the harder it is to find someone. I’m thirty with a promising career in the military, my own house, a Lexus and good credit, yet finding a man who was at my level was close to impossible.
I reached for my glass and allowed a peek at a table on the other side of the room. There he was—a man who I thought was my second chance. Rock. He was a recruiter, thirty-five, and fine as hell.
That man was so good in bed, he kept a sistah’s toes curled and her kitty wet. And there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me except leave his wife.
I gazed over at him, looking fine as hell in a black suit, and then, at the female sitting next to him. A woman hated to admit when another chick was cute, but his wife Regina definitely had that whole Solange Knowles thing going on from the natural hair down to her retro look. She also had his son. Now how in the world could I compete with that? Nope, I needed to stay the hell away and find a man of my own.
“If I wasn’t in love with my boo, I would be all over that dating site,” Veronica said breaking into my thoughts. I glanced over to see this coy grin on her face then leaned in closer so she could hear me over the beat of the music.
“Hooker, don’t be lying. I know your nosy ass better than you know yourself.” Veronica and I go way back to Girl Scout days.
Janelle looked her dead in the mouth. “You’re lying.”
We both stared her down until Veronica finally started laughing. “Y’all think you know me!”
“Because we do,” I told her. “Now spill it, Ronnie.”
When she finally stopped laughing, she nodded her head. “Yeah, I was on it.”
Janelle leaned closer. “And?”
She licked her lips the way she always does when she’s about to dish some gossip. “Well… the only way you can see the men on the site you have to set up a trial account. So I entered a phony name and information.”
“Did they make you add a picture?” I asked in a rush.
Veronica shook her head. “It’s optional so I declined. Although if the two of you are interested I suggest uploading a photo. The last thing you want to do is meet a man if you haven’t seen what his body looks like. There are a lot of overweight men on that site,” she added with an exaggerated shudder.
“I know that’s right,” Janelle said and gulped down what was left in her glass.
“Okay, get back to your story,” I said, with an impatient wave of the hand.
Veronica smoothed a hand across her curls before continuing. “Anyway, I set up an account and browsed through the men.” She paused long enough to lick her lips again. “Girl, once you weed out all the buzzers there are some fine men on the site!”
I fell back against the seat. “Single and live in Columbia?” That was hard to believe. In this college town all the good ones have already been snatched up. The only ones left were someone else’s leftovers. I looked over at Janelle and both our brows rose at the same time. “I guess I need to check it out.”
She was grinning and nodding at the same time. “Hell yeah.”
We raised our glasses in time for the toast.
“Just be careful.” Veronica looked dead serious. “There’s a lotta nuts out there.”
I would definitely have to keep that in mind.
2
JANELLE
It was almost ten by the time I pulled in front of my three-bedroom townhouse. As I stepped out of my Honda Accord, my drunk-ass stumbled on the heel of my stiletto. I knew I had no business driving tonight and should have accepted Nyree’s offer to take me home. But my ass had always been hardheaded.
I’ll give it to her. My girl be watching me like a hawk most of the time and if she knew I had two more drinks while standing at the bar, she would have snatched my keys out of my hand so fast I would have seen stars. I know she worries about me because I do have a habit of getting carried away, especially when I’m old enough to know better.
Nyree and I have known each other for almost fifteen years and been best friends ever since we met in drama club. Over the years we’d gone through everything under the sun and then some. Tall and athletic, tonight she looked posed and sophisticated in a black after-five dress. Just once I would love to see her in something tight and skanky. Hee-Hee! That shit wasn’t happening. Nyree had too much class for that. A ho like me didn’t give a fuck. Sometimes I wondered how we were even friends and then I remembered opposites attract.
I stepped inside and was greeted at the door by my adorable Pomeranian. “Hey Honey, sweetie,” I cooed and scooped my baby in my arms and cuddled him close before stepping back onto the porch and letting him out. Honey was the closest thing I wanted to a child of my own. Kids just weren’t my thing.
After Honey got done taking care of his business, we moved upstairs to my master bedroom and I quickly shed my clothes and those damn shoes. Black with rhinestones, they were cute to look at but hell on my feet. I stepped inside my large walk-in closet, glancing at the customs shelves filled with shoes. One hundred pairs to be exact. The rest of the closet was lined with designer clothes, some still with tags on them. I loved my room. When I first bought the house I had taken two of the four bedrooms, had the wall knocked down and converted the space into a master suite that beat any of the shit I saw on HGTV.
I tossed my clothes into the hamper and padded my luscious ass into the ensuite which was my oasis. Heated floors, large jetted tub, Moroccan tile. The beautiful thing about being single and living by myself is that it’s all about me. My home was my pride and joy. Eventually I wanted something bigger and grand but this would definitely do for now.
It wasn’t until I stepped out of the large glass encased shower and returned to my room that I noticed the phone on my nightstand blinking. I reached over, dialed in my password and listened to the message.
Yo, Janelle… this Al. When you gonna let me kiss that sweet—
I hit Delete and slammed the phone down. Alphonso was a real estate investor who had taken me to dinner last weekend. I thought he had the potential of becoming my newest sponsor until I saw the way he ate his food. It was so disgusting, watching him slurp and slob that I had quickly lost my appetite. After that performance there was no way in hell I could have imagined him kissing my lips or any other parts of my body, and I’d been avoiding his calls ever since.
I slipped into a cute pink nightie I found at Fredrick’s of Hollywood and then slid my feet into a pair of cute white house slippers. I was just getting ready to head down to the kitchen when I remembered our conversation at the wedding reception.
What do you have to lose?
After my date with Alphonso, not a damn thang. And I have to admit the possibility of meeting someone decent for a change was too tempting to pass up. Face it, at thirty, good dick was almost impossible to find. The good men were either already married or sticking their dicks in something I refused to be sloppy seconds to.
I went back into my bedroom, reached inside my purse for the napkin with the web address on it, and screamed when I couldn’t find it. I tried to search my brain and decided I must have used it to spit out that piece of stale gum right before the wedding cake had been served.
I grabbed my cellphone and dialed Nyree’s number.
“Hey Jae, you get home okay?”
I blew out a loud breath. Never have I been too drunk to find my way home. Let her tell it, you would think I had a drinking problem. “Please. I’ve already taken my shower.”
“Oh good. Gurrrl,” she began, changing
the subject. “Rock has been blowing up my phone ever since we left the wedding.”
“Really?” He was some square she’d been dating the last few months. “And?”
“And I’ve been blowing him off. If he was interested in talking to me, he should have done that while we were at the wedding.”
“You know why he didn’t. His wife was there.” I flopped down on the bed.
“Exactly. Rock said he dropped her off at home and wanted to know if he could come by my place and see me.” She blew out a breath. “Whateva.”
I could hear something in her voice that said she was almost tempted. I don’t blame her. Rock was fine. And rumor had it he was slinging dick!
“Girl, forget his trifling ass.” Men like him will never know how to truly appreciate a good woman. “Hey, what’s the website Ronnie was telling us about?”
“Black folks meet dot com. Why? You about to sign up?”
“Yep. I don’t have shit else to do but go to bed, and I’m not sleepy.”
Nyree suddenly yawned in the phone. “Well, let me know what you think. I’m about to work-out and then call it a night.”
That chick loved working out. The only exercise I got came from fucking. Hell, I’ve read you can burn over five hundred calories from dickercise.
I promised to holla at her after church tomorrow, then ended the call and tossed my phone onto the bed. I went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and moved up to the guest room. I flicked on the light then took a seat in front of my desktop computer. The whole time I was setting up my account, I was grinning like a damn fool. I guess I was excited that something new was happening.
I decided to call myself FoxTrot. After putting in the initial information, it was time to talk about me. Something I know all about.
First off… I like a man who keeps it real. I’m not into the games and pretending you don’t have another woman yet you’re unavailable every weekend. Come on. Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids. I’m a grown-ass woman who demands to be respected.
Talk a Good Game Page 1
