“Wait!” Tameer held up his hand. “They’ll take us back down the river.” He wanted to kiss some more.
“C’mon.” Jamaica reached into the boat, and grabbed Tameer by his jacket collar. She had other things on her mind.
Puzzled, Tameer followed Jamaica as she strode confidently into the nearest building. It was as if she knew where she was, and exactly where she was going. Tameer wondered whether he had done something wrong, whether he had been too forward, or whether he had come on too strong. But then again, he told himself, she did kiss back. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe Jamaica wanted to get out of the cold for a minute, and enjoy the warmth of a building. Suddenly, she stopped and turned toward him.
“Wait here,” Jamaica commanded.
Tameer nodded obediently, and then watched as she rounded a nearby corner. That’s it, he thought, she just wanted to use the restroom. Tameer stood for several moments, rubbing his cold hands together, before spying a comfortable place to sit down. He started towards it, just as Jamaica rounded the corner again.
“C’mon.” She nodded for him to follow, as she strode past him.
Tameer raced to keep up. “Where are we going?”
Jamaica turned and placed her finger over his lips to silence him, as they entered into the elevator. The elderly couple on the elevator smiled at them politely, and Tameer returned the gesture. The remainder of the trip in the elevator was spent watching the numbers above the door.
On the thirtieth floor, Jamaica exited, and waved her finger at Tameer, motioning for him to follow. She strutted down the wide, posh hallways with a fierce determination. It was as if she were on a special mission, and nothing was going to stop her.
“Where are we going?” Tameer asked again.
Jamaica stopped at a room, and inserted her card into the slot next to the door handle, causing the door to pop open. She turned to Tameer.
“I’m going to teach you not to start something you can’t finish.” Jamaica turned and strutted into her still-rented suite at the Marriott on the Riverwalk.
Still standing in the doorway, Tameer swallowed hard, and thought about how wonderful God was, and how he would have to go to church for an entire year to pay this back. Tameer also knew that he had to ask.
“Jamaica, are you sure that you want to do this? I mean…it isn’t the alcohol, is it?”
Jamaica began undressing as she approached him. “Oh, yeah, it’s the alcohol. But I’m not drunk. I feel good, mellow, but most of all, extremely horny.”
Jamaica’s threw her blouse across the room, and allowed her jeans to drop to her ankles. “It’s been a long, long, long time. Boy, you are in trouble.”
She could hear LaChina’s voice shouting into her ear. You go, girl! It made Jamaica smile.
Although she was moist when Tameer tried to enter into her, he couldn’t. When finally, after much patience, she worked him inside, they both nearly screamed—she because of the girth, length, and depth to which he plunged; and he because of the soft vise which he found clamped around him. They both gave each other a tremendous amount of pleasure. All told, that night they coupled three times, she came twelve. He exhausted, she relieved, and they finally entered into a deep, relaxing, all-consuming sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Tameer marveled at Jamaica’s beat-up convertible Volkswagen Golf. “I can’t believe you had the nerve to talk about the Gray Ghost!”
Tameer ran his hand across the door, feeling some of the extra dents and scratches that Jamaica and LaChina made prior to Jamaica picking him up from work the previous night. “The Ghost would tear this Barbie Mobile up, from stoplight to stoplight.”
“I don’t think so!” Jamaica protested as she unlocked his door. Besides, she thought, I know my Murcielago would run rings around your little Korean thingy, if this one couldn’t.
Tameer plunged inside of the car and smiled at her. “You’re lucky the Gray Ghost is in retirement.”
“Tameer, the Gray Ghost wouldn’t even start! That car has been in retirement.” She smiled coyly. “You just kept driving it.”
Tameer threw his head back in laughter. “So what is this thing’s name?”
“Name?” She turned to him. “What do you mean, name? It doesn’t have one.”
“It doesn’t have one!” Tameer said, feigning shock. “That’s bad luck, you have to give it a name. You have to give it a name and talk to it, and it’ll take care of you when you need it.”
“Okay, how about Betsy?” Jamaica asked.
He shook his head emphatically. “Something original. Hey, turn left at the light.”
“How about Lucy?” Jamaica asked.
“Lucy? Why Lucy?”
Jamaica shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Kind of like, I Love Lucy. She is red, and Lucille Ball was a redhead.”
Tameer nodded and smiled. He slapped the car’s dashboard. “Okay, Lucy! I like it!” He turned toward Jamaica. “Now your car officially has a name, she officially has a soul, and now you have to treat her like it.”
Tameer shook his finger at Jamaica. “Watch, she’ll take care of you.”
Jamaica smiled. “You’re crazy.”
“No watch. She’ll get you through snow, rainstorms, floods, traffic jams, and hot summer days. She won’t ever break down in the middle of the freeway, and she won’t ever run out of gas on you, on a deserted stretch of highway. You’ll always make it to a safe place, I guarantee it.”
“And if you’re wrong, I’m going to call you and you’re going to come and get me.”
“Yeah, in what?” Tameer asked. “Hey, turn left here.”
“So how are you getting to work and school and stuff?”
“VIA and Nike,” Tamer told her.
She stared at him puzzled. “What’s that?”
“The bus and my tennis shoes,” Tameer answered.
“Public transportation?” She felt nauseated.
Tameer nodded. “Yeah. You seem a little put off by that.”
Jamaica shook her head. “No, I’m familiar with public transportation.” Air France, Swiss Air, Lufthansa, British Airways.
“Well then, how about this?” Tameer turned slightly in his seat and faced her. “We’ll catch the bus downtown and ride the horse-drawn carriage and see the sights around town.”
Like hell I will! Jamaica put on her entertainer’s smile. “Sounds like fun.”
“Okay, then.” Tameer nodded. “We’ll do it right before you leave.”
“Can’t wait.” Jamaica smiled.
“Turn right here, and stop,” Tameer told her.
Jamaica turned right, pulled to the side of the road, and stopped. The question was bouncing around inside of her head and so she had to ask him.
“Why here?” Secretly she thought of the possibility that Tameer was living with someone. A woman! He has a woman!
“I live just a few blocks over, this is cool,” he answered uneasily.
“But I can take you all the way home.”
Tameer shifted in his seat, and slowly shook his head. “No, you can’t.”
You bastard! It was another woman! Jamaica’s face contorted, but she managed to maintain her composure.
“Why not?” she asked dryly.
“Well…” Again he squirmed. “I don’t think I ever told you about where I live.”
Jamaica’s eyes caught his, and he looked down. That was when it dawned on her. It wasn’t another woman, it was his pride.
Jamaica caressed Tameer’s hand softly. “Tameer, I don’t care about where you live.”
“I do.” He leaned over and kissed her on her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
Tameer climbed out of the vehicle, and Jamaica watched in silence as he jogged through an alley, scaled a fence, and then disappeared.
Before Jamaica could stick her key inside of the motel room’s lock, the door flew open and LaChina yanked her inside.
“Stayed out all night, huh?” LaChina asked, tapping her f
eet rapidly on the worn motel carpeting.
The question caused Jamaica to blush. “Yeah.”
LaChina, tongue in cheek, folded her arms and peered around the room. She was trying to be nonchalant. “Where’d you stay last night?”
Jamaica knew what LaChina wanted to hear, but she was determined to make her wait. Jamaica strode to the table and set her keys down.
“At the hotel,” Jamaica replied matter-of-factly.
LaChina’s foot tapped even more frantically against the floor. “Hmmm, at the hotel, huh? Any guest?”
Jamaica smiled. “Maybe.”
Jamaica’s coolness frustrated LaChina. She knew the game that her friend was playing, so she decided to play a little also. LaChina approached Jamaica, and leaned forward and began sniffing. Jamaica recoiled.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jamaica asked.
LaChina continued her sniffing. “I’m sniffing for sex.”
“Oh my God!” Jamaica’s hands covered the lower half of her face. “And just what, may I ask, does sex smell like?”
LaChina was really enjoying herself now. She knew how to embarrass her friend. She leaned forward and sniffed again.
“It smells like that,” LaChina said, pointing toward Jamaica’s neck. “Like…like hotel soap. And it has this certain look to it also.”
LaChina turned and took several steps away from Jamaica. “It looks like…like a person without lip gloss. Like a person who didn’t take any combs or hair care products, and just hastily tied their hair into a ponytail. It…it looks like the glow of a new moon.”
LaChina spun rapidly and faced Jamaica. “You got you some last night! You go, girl!”
LaChina began leaping up and down like a teenager after passing a driver’s test. “Jamaica gave up the booty! Jamaica gave up the booty!”
Jamaica screamed, ran to the bed, and grabbed a pillow, and then threw it at her friend. “You’re crass!”
“Uh-un, girl! Tell me how it was! How was Mr. Tameer!” LaChina waved her hand snapping her fingers through the air. “Mr. All State, All Star, All Nation, Mr. put a smile on my sister’s face, a strut in her step, and a glow in her cheeks!”
“China!” Jamaica turned even redder.
LaChina rushed to Jamaica, clasped her arms, and hugged her. Using all of her strength she pulled Jamaica down onto the bed. “I want every detail, don’t leave out anything! Right down to where he pulled your panties off with his teeth!”
Jamaica shook her head. “He didn’t do that!”
“Lie to me, Jai! Embellish, exaggerate! It’s been a long time for me, and I need to hear some good stuff!”
Jamaica lifted her hands into the air and spread them apart, indicating length. “And that’s not an embellishment.”
LaChina’s hands flew to her face and she gasped. “Oh my!”
After several moments of contemplation, LaChina sheepishly leaned forward. “How old did he say his brother was?”
Jamaica recounted the previous night’s events, and then headed for the shower. From the bathroom, she called out to her friend.
“China, what’s the deal with the local radio stations? Do we have any strings to pull?”
“Yeah, with a couple,” LaChina answered. “The label can twist arms with most of the others, why?”
“I need a one-man contest.”
“Jai, what are you talking about?”
“Tameer needs to win,” Jamaica said, as the shower came alive.
“Girl, I thought he won last night!”
Jamaica’s head appeared from around the door sill. “Ha, ha, very funny. Anyway, I was talking about a car.”
“A car!” LaChina sat up in bed.
“He needs a car, China. He goes to school and work, and he rides the bus. Besides, he came up with some crazy idea about me catching the bus! Baby, he needs a car.”
LaChina tilted her head to the side. “A car, Jai?”
“China, how much money do I have?”
LaChina exhaled. “A lot.” She knew where Jamaica was going with this.
“Over one hundred million?”
“Of course, Jai.”
“Over two hundred million?”
LaChina folded her arms. “Yes.”
“Over three hundred million?”
“Okay, Jai, I get your point.”
“Good.” Jamaica disappeared back into the bathroom.
LaChina shook her head. “He was that good?”
“China!” A bar of soap flew from the bathroom toward LaChina, missing her by several feet.
“Okay, okay.” LaChina held up her hands. “What kind?”
“I don’t know, you figure it out.”
LaChina already knew the answer to her next question, she just wanted to get a rise out of Jamaica. “A Mercedes, Jai?”
“It don’t get that good!” Jamaica shouted from the shower.
LaChina laughed. “Let me see…” LaChina’s finger tapped at her chin for several moments, before she snapped it. “I’ve got it! I have the perfect car for him!”
“Under thirty thousand!” Jamaica shouted from the shower. “Something not too ostentatious!”
“Then it’s perfect,” LaChina told her. “I’ll call the radio station and set things up.”
“Do it now, China!” Jamaica told her.
“Jamaica, the myth is that after you get laid, you’re supposed to be mellow,” LaChina replied. “Take a cold shower, and stop trying to give orders. It’ll get done!”
LaChina lay back down on the bed and lifted the bulky, cheap, motel phone. She stared at the telephone for several moments before rolling over and staring at the motel’s stained ceiling. “Twelve times?”
“China!”
Chapter Fifteen
Jamaica waved from the mall area in front of the shoe store. “Hey, T!”
Upon seeing her, Tameer quickly walked from behind the counter and greeted her. “Hi, Jai!”
They met in the middle of the store and kissed passionately for several moments. When finished, Tameer stared at Jamaica with a broad smile.
“You’re not gonna believe what happened to me today!” Tameer said excitedly.
“What happened?” Jamaica asked, not sure if it was because of her and LaChina’s scheme.
“Well, I got a call from a radio station saying that I won a car, and that I can pick it up from the dealership any time after two o’clock today.”
Jamaica bounced up and down excitedly and hugged him. “That’s wonderful!”
Tameer scratched his head and shifted his gaze to the floor. “Funny thing is, I don’t remember entering into any contest.”
“Well, don’t worry about that,” Jamaica said, hugging him tightly. “If they say you won, you won. Just be happy, Tameer.”
Tameer nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“So, what kind of car did you win?” Jamaica asked. She was truly anxious to find out.
“Well, the person on the phone said…” Tameer cleared his throat and prepared his voice to do his best impression of a game-show host. “Congratulations, you’re the winner of a brand-new 2008 Shelby GT 500 Convertible Mustang!”
The title sounded impressive. A little too impressive.
“Wow, what does one of those cost?” Jamaica asked. She managed to keep her expression neutral.
“Hell, about forty-seven K,” Tameer told her.
Jamaica reeled slightly, but managed her best entertainer’s smile. China, you bitch! I’m going to kill you! “Well, I bet you’re happy.”
Tameer shrugged his shoulders. “It really doesn’t make a difference to me. I’m going to sell the thing.”
Tameer nodded his head, motioning for Jamaica to follow. “C’mon, let’s walk to the food court before I stand here and use up all of my lunch break.”
Jamaica locked her arm into his, as they started off for the food court. “So, why are you going to sell the car?”
“Well, Savion has scholarship
s, but he’ll need some cash for other expenses,” Tameer explained.
“Tameer, you’re a nice person, you deserve nice things,” Jamaica told him. “You’ve worked hard, you’ve put yourself through school, you’ve made sure that your brother stayed out of trouble and stayed in school. Tameer, you deserve it.”
“I guess. But Savion is gonna need…”
“Tameer…” She interrupted him, stopped, turned, and faced him. “I’m sure Savion will be okay. Something will come through for him, just like it came through for you.” Jamaica shook her head. “Don’t sell your car.”
Again, he shrugged. “I’ll see. Hell, I can always sell it later, if things get tough for Savion.”
Jamaica leaned her head against his shoulder as they continued their stroll through the mall. “You’re so sweet.”
“Say, cuz,” a voice called out from behind. “What’s up with that bullshit?”
Unaware that they were being spoken to, Tameer and Jamaica continued along their path to the food court. The shove from behind caused Tameer to stumble forward. It got their attention.
“I said, what’s up with that bullshit you’re wearing?” the voice asked again.
Tameer and Jamaica turned. Now standing in front of them were four young men wearing royal-blue T-shirts, black Dickies pants, and blue Converse tennis shoes. Tameer quickly shoved Jamaica behind him.
“It ain’t nothing,” Tameer told them. He waved his hand at the boy, signaling his unwillingness to engage them. Deep down, he knew that it was not going to be that easy.
“Naw, man, it is something,” one of the blue-clad boys told him, as he made his approach.
The boy extended his hand, and tugged forcefully at Tameer’s burgundy down-filled parka. “You don’t slob in this mall and think that you can get away with it.”
“Yeah, that’s awfully disrespectful, cuz,” another boy chimed in.
Tameer shook his head. “I’m not in a gang.”
“Did I ask you that?” the first boy asked.
Tameer raised his hands again, indicating that he wanted no quarrel. “I’m not in a gang, and I don’t want any trouble. I’m just walking through the mall, minding my own business.”
Two Thin Dimes Page 10
