Savage

by Tiana Laveen

  Yeah, yeah, yeah… Here comes the Lie Patrol. Black Brady Bunch bullshit…

  All of them had hair with ringlets, just like their mother. The youngest one had a Jheri curl…

  Get on with it! I’m ready to fuck… Should I tell ’er? Naaah, I’ll wait. She’s still talking. Besides, I’ve got ’er on the hook now. It’ll be fun to see her swing from it.

  He placed the cigar to his lips.

  “My mother was a former beauty queen and later sales clerk for a fancy boutique in Beverly Hills. My father was a firefighter. We were obviously far from rich, but we were comfortable.” Ah ha… Now we’re on to something. A good ol’ crack in the perfect foundation. Lower middle class, but if you’re living in California with jobs like that, it could get rough… “My mother wanted all of us to go to college—didn’t want us to struggle with money the way she and my father did on occasion.” Confirmation initiated. She’ll confess some crazy shit in a minute… some shit she’s been keeping in. My honesty and openness made her feel more at ease. Just watch… “My mother had big dreams… wanted to be a model and actress but…” Zaire lowered her head, a sad smile on her face as she rubbed her thumb against her palm. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

  “She got pregnant with my brother.”

  DING! DING! DING! Told ya! A little fornication and an out of wedlock baby. Ohhhh, tha fuckin’ horror!

  “So I take it she got pressured to get married by your grandparents?” He took another inhale.

  “Yup.” She sighed. “So that’s what they did. My mother tends to be a chameleon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Here we go, boys and girls. It’s showtime! Will it be door number 3, 2, or 1?

  Door 3: The mother is a bored wife and does zany shit to get attention. 2. The mother is a fuckin’ nut job, suffering from a mental issue out of this damn world that has now fucked up her daughter, too. Or 1, she’s just strange, kinda like her youngest kid, but not certifiable…

  “She changes her mind a lot. One minute, she was ultra-religious like her mother—my grandmother. The next, she is free-spirited and wanting to purchase an RV and tour the land. When she was pregnant with my brother, apparently she was Ms. Traditional. Very domestic, motherly, soft-spoken.” Zaire stood to her feet, as if needing a bit of space to collect her thoughts. “When she was pregnant with my sister, she went through her free spirit phase. When she was pregnant with me, she went through her Afrocentric stage; thus, my middle name. My father hated it, so they compromised and she agreed to have my first name be Eva.”

  She’s avoiding the elephant in the room… She is skating around this. Her mother is batshit crazy… It’s gotta be door number 2. I’ve been mind-fucking for too long. I know how people move, mentally and physically. I can smell weakness, insecurity, lies. I’m too good at this shit to mess this one up. This is easy…

  “She stayed Afrocentric for many, many years… then one day, just like that, all of that was gone. The posters, the books, the albums, all of it. She was just… Iris. That’s when the depression kicked in.” Zaire took several steps back and returned to sit on the rock. Actually, she dropped herself on it, as if she were thrust from the sky on top of it. Slumping to one side, she glared at the fire, as if daring it, inviting it to a fight. “My mother is crazy.”

  She laughed loud, a choppy, harsh sound. It didn’t feel as good as he imagined. Her confession was too raw; it broke her down. In fact, much to his dismay, he wasn’t enjoying her reaction one bit. That beating thing he was supposed to have in his chest, a heart, actually panged on her behalf.

  “I’ve never… told anyone this… not even my closest friends. I told them she has early onset dementia. I lied to them.”

  Now it all makes sense.

  “Maybe I’m ashamed… I don’t know. It’s probably a number of reasons.”

  “What’s her actual diagnosis?”

  “Bipolar and paranoid schizophrenia. Growing up with a sick parent, a mentally ill one, is Hell on Earth.” With her brows bunched and her mouth twisted, he watched a woman with a hard outer shell melt away right in front of him. Her gorgeous, almond-shaped dark eyes gleamed with unspent tears that threatened to fall. Tossing the cigar in the sand, he took her hand in his. Her gaze averted, she hesitated, and eventually, the tears fell silently. Naturally.

  “Why don’t you uh, get it all out? You can talk to me. It’s safe. Because you know I know none of the same people you do, and after tonight we probably won’t see each other again.”

  She was quiet for a spell, then began to do just that—talk, spill the beans.

  “I tried to be the good daughter. I figured, if I worked hard enough in school, I wouldn’t get yelled at for something I hadn’t done for a change. I thought, well, maybe I’m not pretty enough.” She shrugged. “My sister was gorgeous, just like our mother. Her hair was not as thick and a bit less kinky. She had smoother skin… longer legs.”

  “You thought straighter hair was prettier?”

  “Well, not now, but as a child, yes. It’s all a part of many Black women, especially young girls, falling prey to European standards of beauty. I thought back then that maybe if I got a makeover, Mama would get better. Well, that didn’t work, either. My father took her from doctor to doctor until finally, while I was in college, she got a diagnosis. We were all devastated. But, things got better.”

  She swiped at her cheek, wiping the tears away. Reaching for her face, he gripped her chin then caressed her cheek with the side of his thumb, collecting some of the moisture. “She was prescribed medicine and attended therapy, and slowly but surely, Iris, my beautiful mother, received some peace. Things are still hard though, quit challenging. You never know how she is going to respond or what she is going to do on a day-to-day basis.”

  This is the domino effect now… Confess what happened, the consequences…

  “It was too late for my brother though. Timothy is incarcerated for life. Drugs… robbed and killed an elderly couple with his druggie friends. He was so strung out that he doesn’t even remember that night and I believe him. He’s a minister now, said he gave his life to God. But then he sent me a letter cursing me out two weeks ago because I wouldn’t give him any more money. I suspect he is still taking drugs in prison. My sister, Star, is doing well though. She’s married with a son, but like me, she’s got her own demons. There’s that word again. Demons.” She chuckled dismally. “We’re going to church right now, huh? So, I better fess up.” She sniffed.

  “This isn’t church. You tell me what you want to tell me. Whatever you don’t want to, I won’t bother you about it.”

  “Well, I want to tell you. First off, I lied. I know we all have demons, just like you said, Savage.”

  “I’m glad you told the truth. Seems like you needed to.”

  “Well, you can hate me now. To my core because apparently, I lie a lot.” The tears flowed once again as she shook her head. “I lie to myself all the damn time, like the main reason I went into psychology. I did it to help my mother! To get answers. The broken women weren’t just the ones with broken hearts. They were the ones with a broken spirit, a broken brain that played tricks on them! How could someone so beautiful, worthy, and loving turn into that?! She had no control over it, and it messed all of our lives up. My father had a stroke because of it. Thank God he recovered, but every time he turned around, my mother had to be taken to the damn hospital because of one of her many episodes!

  “The demons came. They came because I was a liar! To my fans, to my readers, to my friends!” she yelled. “So, I did what my mother did. I transformed when things got too damn hot. I became truth in the flesh. By giving women tough love, then I’ve proven my point, right? I do it because… because… the truth is just so damn cruel! Since I’m Zaire, ‘The Truth Sayer’ on my podcast, then that means I’m cruel, too.”

  “You’re not cruel. You’re guarded, hypocritical. What you want is not what you got. This is why I told you that you were lying to
yourself. See, when you want to get something off your chest, and someone offers the platform and you feel safe with them, you’ll come clean. You came clean because I made you feel comfortable, baby.” He caressed the side of her arm. “You wanted to stop running and lying. You wanted it all to just stop.”

  “How’d you know?! How’d you know I was lying?”

  “Your eyes… The truth is always in the eyes.”

  “But I blink, and I turn away, and I hide myself.”

  “Yet you blink too slow, you don’t turn away fast enough, and no matter where you hide, I can still find you.”

  “And I’m so glad you did.”

  Taking her in his arms, he brought his lips to hers. Their need for one another poured into that kiss, and fell upon it like the darkness transforms into day. She clawed at his body, long nails dragging along his forearms. The wetness of her face rested against his while they caressed one another, administering comfort during a date that was nothing like he’d planned… Before another moment could pass, he picked her up and carried her to the Jeep. Flicking on the radio, he turned on the lights and made his way back towards civilization where the plane sat parked. She never uttered another word, though she appeared fine. But he knew better.

  Things had taken a turn. She trusted him. A big step for her…

  As soon as they climbed aboard, the woman was sliding off her shoes, tearing at her clothing as tears swam in her eyes, streaking her flesh with mascara.

  Following her lead, he removed his shirt.

  “Savage…” was all she uttered, her voice trembling.

  “You want me to make you feel better, baby? You know I can. All I have to do is pull this curtain back and give you some good. Hard. Medicine. I may not have a PhD like you, baby, but I do have one in Pussyology.” He slicked his tongue across his lower lip in anticipation as his dick got hard at the sight of her bra, now exposed for his pleasure. His mouth salivated, and he was so eager to taste her. All of her.

  “I want you so badly…” The woman was on her knees on the damn floor, intense lust floating in her eyes.

  His pants dropped to the floor, pooling around his ankles, and he was now completely naked. Her eyes drifted to his rigid cock and he didn’t miss the way she swallowed, her lips parted and her breathing accelerated from the sight of his own sidewinder. “I’m going to take you out of your misery, baby. Suck and fuck you until you can’t even breathe. And do you know when I’m going to do it?” He grabbed his throbbing dick with one hand, and the back of her head with the other. “Right fucking now…”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Fly By Night

  She struggled so hard with herself when the stark-naked man stood before her.

  Don’t do this…

  But it was too late. The body wants what the body wants…

  Zaire had promised herself no more secret one night stands and flings. That’s right—she’d been secretly running through men like an athlete barreling for the finish line. It had been rather easy as of late, a mere game… and she didn’t see them as anything more than a sexual release. She’d trained herself to not become attached and had become so good at it, she even had herself fooled.

  In fact, it had been happening for years, but this took her by surprise. Savage had done the unthinkable. Made her give a damn, and so fast, too.

  On the flipside, it didn’t matter what she thought about the issue. The choice was made for her. No way was anything more than a ‘fuck and go’ with a man like Savage. He wasn’t the serious type, not one to settle down; and speaking of serious, he turned grave matters into obscene jokes and quite frankly, he wasn’t her type, anyway.

  Now sure, physically, he definitely was. The man was drop dead fucking gorgeous. In fact, he was borderline pretty, but had enough ruggedness in the form of a couple scars, dense facial hair, a strong, deep voice and whatnot to crush the pretty pill from totally taking him asunder. Besides, the last thing she was going to do was compete with a man for mirror time. More importantly, he wasn’t her type because there would be no putting down roots with this man. One day she imagined she’d want to do just that and he wasn’t even in the running, let alone a candidate. Another con was the damn man gambled for a living.

  That meant his income could be here today, gone tomorrow, and she wasn’t too keen on the profession as a whole anyway, regardless of how damn good he was. Easy come, easy go—that was the extent of it. He lived hard and fast, ruling his roost like a tyrant, and seemed to be a nomad of epic proportions. Yes, he was intelligent, and a great conversationalist, too. Sure, he had charisma falling out of his ass but he was also one of the sketchiest, foulest individuals she’d ever encountered… and yet, all of this didn’t dull her attraction for him, although it did keep her grounded in the reality that she was just going to screw this son of a bitch and be on her way…

  I told myself I would stop this! But here I am doing it again…Here I am with all of my clothes off, without a care in the world. Look how he’s looking at my titties… Good God. Okay, cut me some slack… I was vulnerable… He MADE me vulnerable! He set me up… He somehow turned the tables on me! What a weasel! How’d he know I’d love looking at the stars so much anyway? He is duplicitous! Just like he found out my hotel room… Ugh! The stars though… that’s too much. I never told him that I go outside and do that at least a few times a week at home. I get my binoculars and look up at the sky. Worst of all, how’d he know that I’d break down and tell him, this damn stranger, my private business?! Who the hell is he?!

  Why’d I feel so comfortable? Why does it feel like he and I have known each other for months, not just a couple days?

  She swallowed as her mouth pooled with saliva in anticipation of wrapping her lips around the huge, thick dick that bobbed a mere few inches from her face. The large member was a couple shades deeper than the rest of his form, and yes, it was massive… the kind of dick she dreamed about… the kind of dick she searched for when trying to get her rocks off with her vibrator and free online porn. It was a thing of beauty… the kind of cock that would rock and knock your walls out, just how she fucking liked it.

  This is your last chance Zaire, before it’s too late! GET. DRESSED. NOW!

  What would her audience think if they knew she was going against the very advice she doled out day after day, week after week, and month after month? Her pussy throbbed with need and her nipples hardened as she ran her fingers along them.

  I am a hypocrite, just like Kim accused me of being a few months ago when she got drunk and angry with me over at Beth’s party. Maybe this can be the last time I’m a hypocrite? Yes, just one more time for talking out both sides of my mouth… No… come on, Zaire. He’s a player! You can reform yourself right now!

  But at the sight of this man’s bronze body, covered in black tattoos, muscular arms that surely must be able to wrap around and uproot an oak tree, and thighs that looked as if they could crack walnuts, all she could do was salivate, like a kitten presented with a seafood meal, and turn into a damn puddle right before his eyes. The big bastard stood there with a slick, seedy smirk on his tanned face… finishing her off, she was certain, at least in his mind…

  He conquers. That’s all he does. And that’s all he wants to do to me, too.

  He hops from woman to woman to woman like Frogger. I saw this motherfucker leave with prostitutes last night! He had three fucking prostitutes with him! Now sure, they were at least pretty, but who cares?! He does not give a shit!

  He stroked his lengthy, fat dick with one hand, and casually puffed on a cigar with the other, then crushed the thing in an ashtray as the plane began to taxi. His dick swung back and forth with the movement and she became mesmerized with it, as if it was damn near hypnotizing her…

  “Ahhh!” she screamed when he suddenly wrapped his hand around the back of her head and tugged on her hair, bringing her to her feet. “What are you doing?!” Her back slammed down hard onto the row of plush red seats. Placing his big hands between
her legs, he opened her thighs wide, then dropped to his knees before her. His eyes glowing like fiery lanterns, he opened his mouth, and out curled two ringlets of smoke he’d trapped from his cigar. She watched them float in the air in amazement before he slid his long, fat tongue slowly up and down her slippery pussy.

  “Shit!” The plane flew up into the air. Her ears popped then cleared as she glared at the aircraft ceiling, her mind in a daze, her body giving salutations and praise.

  She cooed and begged, arms stretched, holding onto a backseat tray handle with one hand and the pillow rest of another seat with the other. She pleaded and cursed as she ran deft fingers along his short black hair, slightly longer than a buzz cut with the strands both soft and prickly, pushing his face further into her sopping wet nature. His mouth made the loudest slurping noises, and he ate her like the big, bad wolf that he was…

  “I’ve been wanting to get a taste of you since the moment I saw you, sexy. The pussy’s been marinating for me, all damn day. Juicy, like a peach!” he said between licks, while devouring her whole. She shuddered when he flicked his tongue fast and ferociously against her bud, which quickly swelled and rose to the occasion. “Look who’s come out to play…”

  He gripped her waist and she arched her back, screaming, while he consumed her like he would a savory five-course meal. Her body flooded with euphoria. There was no denying it; the man could eat some pussy like nobody’s business. He groaned as he slowly lifted away from her, then winked.

  “Why’d you stop?” she practically cried, falling to pieces.

  His lips and chin gleamed with her juices.

  “I’m not finished.”

  Popping two fingers into his mouth, he gave them a hard suck before slipping them inside her.

  “I… I don’t like being fingered. Don’t.” She reached between her legs to stop him. He scooted a bit closer, swatted her away, his eyes narrowed.