Savage

by Tiana Laveen

  “Well.” He slung his bag over his shoulder. “I hope you do! Maybe we’ll bump into each other! Have a great weekend, Zaire.” He winked at her and waved, and she responded in kind.

  “You too, and tell Tiger I said hi!” Grabbing her cellphone, she dialed her good friend, Kim, an amazing real estate agent she’d met eight years ago while house hunting. They’d been practically inseparable ever since.

  “Hey you!” The lady’s smile poured over her words like thick, sticky syrup. “I was just thinking about cha. So, are we going or not?”

  “First things first… How did the closing go today?”

  “Oh, it went great! I have another one next week. Things have really picked up. So, are we going to get sloshed this weekend in Vegas or what? Tired of waiting! I could use the break, Zaire. Braxton is driving me crazy! Never get you a guy in their twenties. Learn from me, please!”

  Zaire laughed, envisioning Kim rolling her eyes.

  “Well, what do you expect from a guy who is almost fifteen years your junior and you’ve turned him out? You and all of that hot, Latina fire you bring! You showed that guy shit he’s never seen in his whole entire damn life! He never had it so good.”

  “I tell you what, if he wasn’t such a staunch Republican, we could probably make this work for at least a few months longer. Well, at least for scheduled booty calls on the regular. I just don’t know if it’s worth the aggravation.”

  “What do you mean, staunch Republican? You have plenty of Republican friends! Hell, I’ve voted for a few Republican candidates too in the past. If you ask me, most of them are full of shit across the board, regardless of party affiliation.”

  “True, but he’s in deep, baby, like a cult! Ugh! I mean, honestly, what did I expect? He was a political science major, former Mormon from Utah… Zaire, he’s no choir boy in the sack though. Whew! That bastard can fuck! He’s in my top three now… hung like a horse, too!”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s so good in bed… because his urges were suppressed and pent up for so long? Didn’t you say he only had sex with two other women before you?”

  “Yeah, and one of them ended up in the hospital after he hung her upside down and drilled ’er like he was looking for oil.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  “He seems nice enough though. Just young and a bit naïve. You said yourself he’s a bridge, a friend to get over troubled waters with until you meet Mr. Right.” Zaire shrugged as she got to her feet and began to contemplate what she’d throw into her small travel bag for their vacation.

  “If I left him, he’d go right out there and find another woman at least ten years older than him. He loves him some older ladies, Zaire, hmmm mmmm! Says we’re more mature, know what we want. Get this though, he is still arguing with me about that whole Jussie Smollett debacle. That happened eons ago, like, let it go already!”

  “Well, there’s still backlash from it. That was a strange situation, regardless of what anyone believes. I think it’ll always be a case of interest because of just how bizarre it was. Anyway, I take it your boy toy wanted him prosecuted to the full extent of the law?”

  “Yup. I’m sure he’ll want to screw before I head out for our weekend adventure, too. I guess I can throw him a bone.” Kim sighed on the other end, as if the thought of tossing the guy some pussy was exhausting within itself. She stifled a laugh. “Before I leave, I could turn him on by grabbing his dick like a Subway sandwich, Jussie Smollett style and saying, ‘This is cougar country!’”

  Zaire burst out laughing at her friend’s antics. “You are insane! A proud cougar you are, that’s true! Wear it like a badge of honor, girl. Anyway, I’ll give Allison a call and we can meet up I guess at your house later on tonight and head out. It’s a seven-hour drive so we can split it up like we did last time.”

  “Sounds good. Stop by around, say, seven-ish tonight. Let me wrap up some things for the open house I have planned, get packed, and you two can swing by. Can’t wait to see ya, babe! I’ve missed you so much!”

  “Same here. You and Allison are my peace and serenity, girl. Okay, see you in a short while.” Zaire ended the call and looked around her basement radio studio to ensure she had everything sorted out before turning off the light. She headed upstairs to the first floor, her satin lime green slides slipping against the slick wooden floors of her home.

  Making her way to her modern sky blue and silver kitchen, she pulled out a chilled bottle of diet cola from the stainless steel refrigerator with echo-speaker capabilities, then headed up to her bedroom on the second floor. Going to her huge walk-in closet, she called out, “Alexa, play, ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ by Cyndi Lauper.”

  She danced to the catchy tune as she selected a couple of silky shirts, then snatched a few pairs of lace and satin panties and bras from the chest of drawers. After a few minutes, she was halfway packed, her fingers snapping and her mood elevated. Grabbing her phone, she stood in front of her vanity and tussled her long, curly black hair over one shoulder as she looked herself over, admiring the small gold earrings she’d purchased from BVW Jewelers.

  I look exhausted. Yeah, I definitely need to get the hell out of here and recharge.

  “I was wondering when you were gonna call!” Allison yelled. “I’ve got my suitcase out. Just hung up with Kim!”

  “Girl, I can’t wait! Yes, we’re going. Let’s do this. Been a long time since we fucked Vegas up.” She chortled.

  “They aren’t ready for us, Zaire! Fuck it up! Fuck it up! Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up!” Allison’s antics always got Zaire in a good mood. The woman stood almost six feet tall. Slender with huge breasts and a tiny waist, she was gorgeous. Thick black hair hung past her shoulders, so beautiful against her rich mahogany skin. They’d met at one of the conventions she’d attended a few years back. Allison was a part time dance teacher and social worker, eager to add diverse skills to her resume. “I heard you going off on the air today.” Zaire’s cheeks warmed. “I love it when you tell these ladies what’s up! That’s the shit she needed to hear Zaire. Sorry not sorry. You’re eager to help, but you ain’t no buttercup! Now, how much money are we wasting on slot machines this weekend? I want to splurge! How many drinks are needed to ensure that we embalm our damn livers, pickle them up and set them in jars for Ripley’s ‘Believe it or Not!’ and how many mothafuckas are we dick riding because I am the rhinestone cowgirl honey!”

  “You’re married. You can’t ride no dicks.”

  “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, and the fuck I can’t! That piece of shit has got a whole family out there now! I told you he wasn’t shit. This old ass bastard got her pregnant too. Thinks I don’t know about it.”

  Zaire shook her head. “He has another woman and children? Color me surprised,” she teased. “I already told you about this man…”

  “I was just arm candy to him, I know, and I told you, I already saw a divorce attorney. I’m done, Zaire. I mean it this time. I’m not the one.”

  Zaire paused and glanced at a pretty necklace on her dresser, trying to decide whether to take it with her or not.

  “You and Kim ask me for guidance then ignore me and I’ve about had it. I’m an advice radio therapist, accredited I might add, and my best friends never take my suggestions! Y’all are making me look bad, Allison.”

  “Making you look bad? Girl, nobody gives a damn that we’re cool. I’m grown. I can screw up my life in peace. I own all of my choices. Hell, you told me not to marry him, but honey, I needed a sugar daddy… Working for that nonprofit foundation wasn’t cutting it; I should have never gone into social work. Anyway, sugar daddy my ass! I found out too late wasn’t nothin’ sweet about him! Wanting me to lick his crusty ass toes and shove a ten-inch glass dildo up his ass! That’s too freaky, even for me! He has so many strange fetishes it’s not even funny. He didn’t say any of that when we were dating. The truth came out after the vows! He knew what he was doing. I should’ve listened to his fourth ex-wife. The bitch t
ried to warn me.”

  “And so did I!” Zaire protested. “But my opinion is chopped liver to you and Kim. You both are going to learn one day, hopefully before it’s too late.”

  “I happen to like chopped liver. Okay, let’s roll out! See you over at Kim’s tonight and don’t be late, Zaire. I’m hot to trot, back flat on a cot, call me a thot!”

  “I wish I could forget you not… Hang up this damn phone and let’s go!”

  “I got some bomb ass weed, too! Yaasssss! See you in a bit, baby! We’re Vegas bound for an adventure of a lifetime!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  No Dice

  The dice rolled in an adjoining room, but this space required a good deck of cards, chips, and a fickle bitch named Lady Luck. He was playing the game he loved most: Blackjack. It was a private area—accessible by invitation only, exclusive to the ballers and shot callers, equipped with skilled dealers, free drinks and appetizers, primo pussy, luxurious furnishings and peace and quiet. The Bellagio was one of Savage’s favorite hotels in all of Vegas, and they catered to his every need like a motherfucker.

  Due to his affiliations with the right people, he was one of the few allowed to enter the place with his gun, and the damn thing was always fully loaded. As soon as he walked into the front door and made his way to the lobby, he often got a room on the 21st floor. This time, however, due to the situation at hand, he switched it up, just in case that little tidbit leaked to the wrong damn person.

  Snitches were a dime a dozen and all it took was one bastard living pay check to pay check being offered a Scooby snack to drop the 411 on his whereabouts for a mere measly one hundred bucks. Besides that, he was fairly comfortable here. They certainly made sure of it.

  He was typically presented with free show passes, a host of exotic twerking dancers flapping their enhanced ass cheeks in hopes of him making it rain, meal comps, free plays on the slot machine games he seldom partook in as they were more rigged than a pair of tits in a cone bra, and top notch, high priced gorgeous whores with doll faces and goddess’ bodies. The ladies of the night would all be lined up to do his most depraved, pleasure-seeking bidding, and grant his nasty little black heart’s desires. Those nights often ended with him fucking until he passed out of sheer exhaustion, and he’d sleep like a baby. Savage’s relationship with the Bellagio was definitely not one-sided…

  He always dropped loads of money in the casino when he came around and the staff and management had gotten accustomed to it. He was a celebrity of sorts, but he kept them all at arm’s length. After all, one lesson his prostitute mother had taught him was, ‘Trust no one except family’—and that one stuck. Funny though, people often trusted him. Perhaps too much.

  He, on the other hand, made certain he knew every damn thing there was to know about this place and the regulars within it. He knew all of the security team by their first and last names. Some of them were retired police officers, so it was important to keep track of such things.

  He began to tap his foot to a catchy beat. Muted music thumped from The Bank Nightclub, about 110 feet away. Yup. He kept the coordinates on his surroundings; this was essential too, especially when he needed to dash and get away. Although usually he wasn’t the one doing the running…

  Time ticked by, the music grew louder, the crowd thinned then grew, and the drinks poured.

  He sat there sipping on his Whiskey Sour, mixed to perfection by the bartender. The room erupted in a loud ruckus—the slapping of hands, curses and the like. A small, elite crowd of lucky bastards surrounded the table along with the obscenely rich, all huddled together. He smiled with pure, smooth satisfaction as many waved their arms about, their faces twisting in angst. Savage sat in the plush white seat, his brain swimming in alcohol, his finger clutched around a freshly lit cigar and his vision slightly blurry as he watched his stacked chips turn into money right before his eyes. A woman with platinum blonde wavy hair, ruby red lips, and a white fur coat covering a sheer white negligee underneath approached him between breaks when the tension had died down.

  He’d seen her around; she had quite the reputation. Allegedly, she could suck the paint off a fucking wall, slurp cocks while doing a handstand. As she leaned to whisper in his ear, her large, artificial breasts swayed forward.

  “When you’re ready, big boy, let’s go back to your room so I can show you a real fucking good time.” She toyed with the white collar of his shirt, her long, red painted nails glistening under the lights. Soon, her hand meandered along his chest. She took advantage of the shirt being only partially buttoned, exposing his black chest hair and thin chain, and took the liberty of running her fingers over his skin, giving him a good feel.

  He smirked as he reached into his glass of water that had sat there practically untouched all evening and rolled several ice cubes in his hands like dice, keeping his eye on the game, never pausing to look her directly in the eye.

  “You’re workin’ late tonight, huh?” He grinned. “Sin City keeps the legs open and busy.”

  “Always.”

  “I’m not certain I’m in the mood tonight.”

  “I’ll get you in the mood baby… Don’t you worry your handsome head about that,” she quipped, smelling of strong perfume and cinnamon gum.

  “What makes you so much better than the rest? I can have my pick.” He shrugged, more interested in hearing her response than the validity of the pending answer. “Peddle yourself to me. Not just your body, but your salesmanship.”

  “Is this a job interview big daddy?” She grinned wide as she took his gold chain between her fingers and rubbed it as if needing luck.

  “I’m accepting a shit load of resumes tonight. You whores just keep comin’ out the woodwork, but tonight?” His brow arched. “With the week I’ve had… Hell, I am only in the mood for primo…”

  “Screw those other bitches.” She let her finger creep up the back of his neck and ran her heavily jeweled hand over his short dark hair. “Nice hair, Papi…”

  “I’m not Hispanic.”

  “Hmmm, well, you sure are sexy… whatever the fuck you are.” He offered a weak laugh as he watched the dealer. “What are you playboy?”

  “A man.”

  “Oh, I know that one hundred percent! All man, baby! Let me guess… Mixed?”

  “Yeah, I’m mixed, but not as you’re thinking. My mother is Armenian, my father is Italian and Irish.”

  “Armenian like the Kardashians?!” He nodded. “Wow… I love them! Hey, let me ask you something—are they White?”

  He snickered at her question.

  “It depends on who you ask, Blondie. Some think they’re Middle Eastern, some say White, some say Asian.” He shrugged. “I don’t give a shit. I’m just here. My parents fucked one day; Dad busted a nut and didn’t pull the fuck out. Bada boom, bada bitchin’ bing. Here the fuck I am, in the living flesh.” He tossed up his hands. “End of story. Now, enough about me. Tell me what you have that others don’t? What makes you stand out?” He blew smoke out the corner of his mouth as he eyed her up and down. His dick saluted her once he zoomed in on her luscious lips.

  “Oh honey, you’re one lucky, fine man tonight.”

  “Am I, huh?”

  “I have a pussy that can grip your cock like a vise, or stretch out so wide you could drive a damn tractor trailer up inside me, parallel park and go in reverse.”

  He laughed casually as he shook the ice in his palm some more, then jammed them in his mouth before they’d completely melted. Wiping his wet hand along his slacks, he sat up a bit straighter, moved some of his chips around, and rested his elbow on the table.

  “And if rumors are true, Mr. Lucky, that stretching out part will do some good…” She flicked her tongue along his earlobe, then gave a gentle tug and suck. “I didn’t call you big boy for shits and giggles…” She slid her hand across his thigh then against his cock and gave it a few good, hearty strokes. “Ohhhh, baby… is all that hard concrete for little ol’ me?” she cooed, sounding li
ke a sex kitten. He placed his cigar down in a black ashtray, leaned forward, and clasped his hands together, his mind back on the game. “Mmm, yes… hurt me, Daddy. You’re nine inches easily, fat as a bitch with an addiction to birthday cake trapped in a bakery… Oh my, what a nice curve you have! Your nickname must be dips and valleys, sugar. Off to the right… Mmmm! My favorite. That’s your anaconda, yes? I’m ready to be bitten. I will suck you dry; all fifty gallons of cum, baby, and beg you for more…”

  He tossed her a glance and smirked, shaking his head.

  “Nice sales pitch, Blondie… Rule number one, know your customer. You did well. Played up to the male ego. Even if I’d had a small cock, you still would’ve said it was big and been convincing. Bravo. You shoved your best assets in my face. Good job. Stand over there in the corner and wait,” he snapped, wanting to be rid of her until he was ready to take her off the shelf and play. The woman turned away but not before he spotted a proud grin on her face, her blonde hair swinging behind her as she did exactly as instructed like a dutiful pet. Moments later, a man next to him hurled curses while the dealer announced him as the winner for the third time in a row.

  Savage’s eyes narrowed, growing a bit heavy as he continued to drink… and play… drink and play… After another twenty or so minutes, he’d had enough.

  I need a break. Maybe another game and then that’s it.

  Getting to his feet, he waved his hand towards the dealer, signaling he’d be back after a while. With his gun strapped against his leg, he shook his limbs, awakening his senses, getting the sensation back and the blood flowing. He twisted then cracked his neck, then looked out the glass box he dwelled within. He could see the vast casino floor. People sitting at slot machines or surrounding various game tables, bright letters and lights, piercing electricity that fueled one’s dopamine to pour out in droves. Individuals were moving past as they had been all evening, but at that moment, one person in particular caught his eye…