Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series)

by Jessica Watkins

  I just hoped that he wasn’t fat or old. I couldn’t stomach any more bullshit.

  Yet, I still couldn’t stomach who was on the other side of the door when I opened it. I didn’t know what to do; run, scream, fight, or all of the above. As my mind scrambled to think of something, I knew that I was in such shock that physically I could do nothing as I watched my life flash before my eyes.

  DeShawn simply brushed his way by me, as I stood paralyzed in the doorway, and walked in.

  As soon as he wasn’t blocking my exit, I attempted to run out of the room. I was ready to do a full sprint out of that motel, even in only my bra and panties, but he quickly grabbed me by the arm. Then he closed the door and locked it. I took surveillance of what he had on him. Wearing a white tee and shorts, I could see that he wasn’t carrying a gun. The only thing in his hands was a brown bag.

  “Have a seat,” he instructed.

  Tears immediately filled my eyes. I knew that I was about to die.

  Then, DeShawn did the oddest thing; took a fifth of Hennessy from the brown bag and two cups, and made us drinks.

  “Here. Drink up,” he told me as he handed me the cup.

  I took it, still so scared that I didn’t know what the fuck to say. Funny thing is, it looked like DeShawn didn’t know what to say either.

  I was so scared that I was literally shaking. I could barely hold the cup as I took sips from it. I figured I might as well get tipsy so that, whatever he does to me, I don’t feel it as much.

  I tried to think of an escape plan. I wondered how crazy I would look running down Cicero Avenue in my lingerie and stilettos. I figured the police would surely be called and that any brush with the law would get me in trouble with my parole officer.

  However, there was never a threat of any real danger. The more DeShawn drank, the more relaxed he became. The more relaxed he became, I let my guard down little by little. He eventually turned the television on and watched ESPN as he drank. I sat in the chair quietly and wondered to myself what the fuck was going on.

  I hadn’t been this close to DeShawn since the day of the robbery. The last time we spoke, he was threatening me because he knew that I had to have had something to do with him being robbed moments before.

  I wanted to say something to him, to apologize or something! But what could I have said?! More importantly, what the fuck was he even doing there?!

  An hour of silence passed with me too scared to speak. I just sat there wondering what was going to happen next. The air was so thick with tension. I avoided his eyes but, when we would make eye contact by accident, there was so much tension and awkwardness. However, I couldn’t help but see the sexy motherfucka that I fell for two years ago. The more I drank the more I wanted to confess to him how much I liked him, how stupid I was to let Roxie, Benz, and Scoop talk me into what I knew was wrong, and how I knew none of that could fix what I had done.

  Yet, I was so stuck that I continued to say nothing and just wondered in silence.

  Another half an hour passed, and the fifth of Hennessy was gone. I was getting antsy. I stared at DeShawn as he stared at the television, but it was written all over his face that he wasn’t paying any attention to it.

  “What that hell are you doing here, DeShawn?”

  It was bold, but I didn’t care. By then I was tipsy, so my tongue was loose.

  But he ignored my slick tongue and simply replied, “You’re an escort, right?”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I asked them niggas who threw the party at the studio what your stage name was. I did a Google search and your ads came up.”

  I watched him curiously. I was even more puzzled now.

  When he looked back at me, I saw lust, not hate or revenge.

  “So you’re here for my services?”

  With a nonchalant nod of his head and face full of the weirdest expression, he replied, “Something like that.”

  If pussy was what he wanted, I was glad to give it to him so that I could get out of this awkwardness with my life. I stood and walked towards him, but before I could get on my knees to service him, he replied, “You don’t have to have sex with me.”

  “You’re paying for it.”

  “I’m paying for your time, but you can do whatever you wanna do.”

  The way he looked at me made my insides quiver. Those bedroom eyes were still as dreamy as they ever were. His tattoos drew me in. His smell overwhelmed me and took me back into time; when we were a couple and I was so happy to be with him.

  It had been so long since I had sex with someone who actually turned me on that I wanted to have sex with him regardless, especially if that meant that he wasn’t there to kill me!

  As I got on my knees in front of him and unbuckled his belt, I was still confused and wondered what his presence meant. Until that day, I missed DeShawn and wished that I had never fucked things up with him. But I never thought that there was a chance that he missed me, especially after all that had happened.

  I dared not even entertain that thought though. I sucked his dick like it was the last time I would because I figured that it probably was. He relaxed into the oral sex and let his head roll back. The moans that came from him were so familiar. He put his hand in my hair, forced me to face fuck him, and treated me like a whore. And that was okay. After what I had done, I couldn’t blame him for any harm he did to me. Yet, our past together allowed me to enjoy every bit of it.

  Before he could climax, I slid the condom on and straddled him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he bit his lip like he was fighting the pleasure. I was sure that he didn’t want to enjoy it. I am sure that this was something that he was even ashamed of enjoying. But something had brought him there. It was obvious that it was this. If he hated me for killing his friend, he damn sure didn’t hate this pussy.

  Out of nowhere, he stood us up and threw me on the bed. His body on top of mine was all that I had ever thought about while I was in prison. Now, under whatever weird circumstances, I had it and it felt so damn good. He fucked me and my mind went back into time; before the robbery, before the murder, before I was locked up. I felt like Star again; not a felon. I felt normal again. I wished that this was something real, not something that he was paying for, so that I could feel it again and again.

  Our moans were filled with so much surprise, like we couldn’t believe that we were allowing ourselves to do this. He was fighting with his conscience. I was fighting with mine. But our bodies won as he came. With a grunt and a few curse words, he lay on top of me panting. I lay there in silence, appreciating his smell and the weight of his body on mine. I closed my eyes and told myself to just enjoy him while he was there and prepare myself for whatever was going to happen next.

  I lay there with my eyes closed for so long that I eventually fell asleep. Next thing I knew, I was waking up to an empty room. The television was off and the room was dark. The only thing to confirm that DeShawn had really been there was the cups that we drank from and the empty Hennessy bottle. Disappointment filled my heart. I knew that he was just there to fuck me, but to leave without saying goodbye was a slap in the face. Disappointment grew to anger as I realized that he hadn’t left me any money. Not a dime! Not only had he used me, but now I had to choke up the money for this damn room!

  I lay there kicking myself in the ass. But what could I say? That man had all rights to do me harm, so I should have considered myself blessed to still be alive and been grateful that all he did was take advantage of me.

  As I got out of the bed to shower and leave, I began to plot. I had to continue to make money, but I couldn’t continue to leave myself this vulnerable for DeShawn to find me again. This time he only used me but next time his anger could lead him to do something much worse.

  My mind was racing as I grabbed a towel to wash my face. Then, to my surprise, I noticed words that were written on the mirror in my plum lipstick: Had to make a run. Don’t leave.

  Eleven

  Wedne
sday, September 12, 2012

  LYRIC

  After a four hour and twenty minute plane ride and a half hour bus ride, we had finally arrived at Dreams Resort in Puerto Vallarta.

  And I hadn’t paid a dime!

  I was having a good time already!

  “Let’s take our bags to the room, change, and meet in the dining room for dinner.” Blood was giving out instructions as he passed Greg and Marcel the room keys.

  Everyone agreed and went in our separate ways to find our rooms.

  I let out a sigh of relief as we were finally away from the group. Being in such close quarters with Vic was weird. It was obvious to everyone that Vic and I wasn’t speaking, which caused thick tension on the plane and bus ride.

  When I had been forced to be around her before, it usually was in club atmospheres where I can easily walk away. Yet, on a plane and bus, I was stuck!

  “You need to get over that bullshit,” Marcel told me as we got on the elevator.

  “I am over it.”

  “No, you’re not. Not if you still won’t speak to her.”

  “She didn’t speak to me either.”

  With a laugh, he said, “She’s probably scared to.”

  I laughed as well as I held him around his waist and kissed him romantically. Then I said, “I don’t want to spend any of our five days here talking about Vic.”

  “I’m sure. But I’ve never seen you be such a bitch.” My eyes bulged and Marcel laughed. “Just calling it like I see it.”

  “I was not being a bitch. That hurt my feelings!”

  He then lowered his head and passionately tongue kissed me; sucked my tongue, biting my lip, and making me melt. Then he simply said, “That didn’t hurt your feelings.”

  And flirtatiously, I smiled. “It doesn’t hurt now.”

  As we got off the elevator, we kissed, touched, and played like horny little fifteen year olds. I couldn’t get enough of his sexy ass at home, so being in this romantic environment with the beautiful scenery and beach was only heightening my already intense appetite for my beau.

  We finally reached our room and when Marcel opened the door, I realized that I didn’t even have to leave the room to enjoy this vacation! Blood had reserved the Dreams Ocean View suites for us. Marcel and I dropped our bags and let out hollers as we entered the fully furnished living area of the two story suite. I felt like I was in a high-rollers suite in Vegas. Yet, when I stepped out onto the patio and saw the private pool, I was given that romantic Puerto Vallarta feel again.

  “Damn, we got our own balcony too!” Marcel was looking up at the second floor with wide eyes.

  “Let’s go check out the bedroom!”

  Hand in hand, we ran through the living area, past the bar and kitchen, and up the stairs like happy little kids. We were so giddy and felt so free.

  This suite was off the chain! Even the bedroom had a living area. The California King had such romantic bedding with its ruffled skirt. I didn’t plan on sleeping much while in Mexico, but I appreciated the dreamy feel of it.

  Marcel and I stepped onto the balcony. Standing behind me, he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I leaned back against his chest, and we lost ourselves in the view of the ocean. Within seconds, I recognized the same squeals and shouts that Marcel and I just uttered. We looked over and saw Vic and Greg, also on their balcony, about three suites down from ours.

  This was going to be an interesting trip.

  Very interesting.

  STAR

  I lay in that bed and anxiously waited for DeShawn for three hours. As I waited, I wondered if he was playing with my head or setting me up to kill me. Sure, he had had sex with me, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have something else up his sleeve.

  No matter the threat of danger, curiosity and my feelings for him caused me to lay there and wait like bait for whatever danger was coming next.

  But he came back, three hours later, with my favorite Chinese food and more drink. We lay in the bed eating, drinking, and fucking all Saturday night. It was like old times. He never mentioned the robbery, never mentioned Tim’s murder, and acted like we were the old DeShawn and Star again, just with a lot more weird tension between us.

  We avoided the tension in the air, the big ass elephant in the room that wanted to ask him how he could be there with me; the chick that set him up.

  That next morning, we parted ways. He walked me to my car and, before I could close the driver’s door, he put six hundred dollars in my hand. He paid me for the entire night.

  Part of me appreciated it. As the night went on, I started to wonder how I would cover the cost for the room, because it was starting to feel like DeShawn hadn’t shown up to pay an escort for her services. It seemed more like he was just kicking it with his ex. Yet, when he paid me, I was let down. I was brought to the realization that, he hadn’t forgiven me and he wasn’t giving me another chance. He was just getting him some pussy.

  Then, as I lay across my bed Wednesday evening, my cell phone rang, and it was him.

  “Hello?”

  I was so nervous. I couldn’t understand what he was doing, but I was willing to play this game until I found out what.

  “What’s up? You workin’ tonight?”

  Nerves kept me quiet. I didn’t know what was the right thing to say or do. I didn’t know if I should even be risking my freedom or life by dealing with this guy again. I was so lost and confused.

  Yet, he filled my silence with orders. “Meet me at the same spot. In an hour.”

  I was still silent. I wasn’t sure what to do. The first time, I fell into his trap and managed to get out of it unharmed. To willingly go into it now would be stupid and something that I couldn’t explain. Cat had my tongue. I wanted to know if he was hustling me like I had hustled him, was this an attempt to forgive and forget, or did he just prefer to buy the old pussy that he missed so he wouldn’t have to explain to people why he was fucking with me again.

  I had so many things I really wanted to say to him, to ask him. But he filled my silence again by avoiding it. “Cool?”

  And I replied, “Cool.”

  I waited in the parking lot as DeShawn instructed. I was so thankful that I had been able to afford better clothes lately. Finally, I was out of Rainbow and was able to get a few decent outfits from Forever 21 and Akira. I was only wearing a pair of blue jean distressed shorts with a white cami along with white peep toe pumps and lots of silver accessories, but I looked cute, which I hadn’t been able to say for the past year. In order to keep from running out of gas, I stood, leaning on the trunk of the 2000 Grand Prix that I managed to purchase with the money that I was saving from my private shows. I still yearned for the banana boat hair imported from India and Brazil that my sister wore, but I had too many major things to take care of before I splurged on such finer thangs, so good Remy hair had to do. Yet, it was way better than those twenty dollar shake and go synthetic wigs that I was forced into after I got out of jail.

  It felt so good to have my hair touching my lower back again. Shallow, I know. But when you work in an industry such as mine, you are in fierce competition with women who purchase everything to enhance their looks. Finally, I was able to run with the big dogs.

  The biggest dog finally pulled up in a white 2013 Benz truck. I wondered how much weight he had to be pushing to afford it. I wondered had he graduated to the point in the drug game that he knew Blood. Yet, I dared not even ask him such things because I knew that anything related to his business I would never know again.

  “Get in,” he simply told me once he pulled up in front of me.

  I looked at him cautiously, wondering what the fuck I was doing. I thought of the situations I found myself in a few years ago. I made stupid ass decisions back then that could have gotten me killed and led me to, what could have been, spending the rest of my life in prison. I gambled my life in order to be comfortable and feed my son, and here I was, yet again, gambling with my life; only this time for somet
hing even more ridiculous because this nigga was probably more than likely setting me up.

  Then I thought of Tim and wondered how I could even blame DeShawn if he was. Yet, I could blame myself for putting myself in the midst of it so willingly.

  I was so confused.

  “Are you getting in?”

  He smiled at me as he spoke. My heart melted and chills ran down my spine. Those slanted dreamy eyes seemed to twinkle in the sun under his fitted cap. Tattoos that extended from his neck to his wrists gave him such a rough dope boy exterior. That exterior was calling my name. He was such a bad boy; just what I loved. The fact that he was as cute as a button was a plus.

  I couldn’t be stupid anymore though.

  “Is it cool?” I was stern and serious as I looked into his eyes for a sign of sincerity or bullshit. “Seriously, is it cool? I served my time. You heard me in court. I didn’t want them to…”

  He cut me off, “It’s cool.” Partly, it sounded like he didn’t even want to get into the gruesome details. Then I noticed how, though I was looking at him trying to figure him out, he was giving me the same inquisitive looks.

  “Look, I just want to grab something to eat and we’ll be right back.” Though he was here to sleep with me, he sounded like he barely even wanted to give me the pleasure of explaining anything to me. But I got in the car anyway.

  He knew everything. Unlike the wool that I was pulling over his eyes before, there was no deception between us now. He knew that I knew about the robbery. He knew that I really liked him and didn’t want them to rob him. And though I could have been lying my ass off for the sake of having a good defense to get my ass out of prison, which I am sure he thought, something had brought him to me anyway.

  Eventually, I would find out what.

  I just prayed that for once in my twenty-two years of living, this gamble would pay off.