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Authors: Edd McNair

A Hot Mess (17 page)

BOOK: A Hot Mess
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“No, after all that shit happened that night, he said he wanted me to move for the safety of his kids, and he said me too, but I know it was for his kids.”
“So why you haven't contacted me? Why have you ignored my calls? He be there with ya?”
“Omari, after that night when that shit happened, he got us out of there. He told me not to have no more dealings with you. He paid for me to move into my new town house, he put up my deposit and paid my first and second month's rent. That took almost three stacks. Then he made me promise not to call or talk with you, and he would buy me a new car and take care of my rent.”
“Damn! Seem like you better off without me.”
“And you scared my kids. So they'll tell him if you come around. You know how Q talk.”
“Yeah, but if you want to see me, you'll make a way. Shit! I got to understand if dude doing it like that. If he coming off like that, I can't compete. And I don't blame you for not doing nothing to fuck that up.”
“And I won't. I would be crazy.”
“Where he at now? I know he ain't there.”
“He out of town. He don't stay here all the time even when he here, but he got a key and he may pop up. He a real street nigga. Do I have to explain all that?”
“No, I understand.”
Omari wanted to believe what she was saying, but he didn't want to believe that she didn't want him. He figured she was staying away strictly because Minke was paying all her shit at the crib. If it wasn't true, that's what she put in his head, so he was rolling with it.
“So you don't miss me, Joy? You done wit' me?”
“Yes, I miss you, Omari. How can I forget what we had and how you been there for me? But you put my back against the wall.”
“I need to see you. I miss you, baby. I miss the way you taste. I miss the way you feel. Come on, Joy, what's up? Stop denying me.”
“I can't, Omari. If you get a room or something, I could meet you, but I can't mess up. I'm finally getting ahead.” Joy needed him to understand this was gonna be on her terms.
“Girl, you know I ain't got no money. My shit ain't changed yet.”
“So what, Omari? What am I to do?” she asked.
Show me, nigga, you understand the conditions.
“So what? Let me come get in your bed,” he said directly. “Fuck all this, man!”
“If I tell you where I live, Omari, you can't mess me up, for real. You got to call me first, and if I don't answer, leave it alone. You understand?”
“Okay, I got you. Now open the door,” he said with a smirk.
“You at my door?” she asked, jumping up and throwing her toys back in the drawer. “I know you ain't. I don't know if my son 'sleep or not. And how—”
She heard a slight knock then “Open the door now.”
She threw on her oversized green pajama silk top and fastened two buttons nervously as she made her way down the stairs to open the door. There stood that nigga that she really missed. The man she was so comfortable with that had really shown her love.
She let him in and locked the door then pulled him upstairs to her room and locked that door too.
Omari pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight. “Joy, I've missed you, baby. Really, really missed you.”
“I've missed you, baby, your touch, everything you use to do,” she said, ready for him to eat her. She craved him, she was ready to beg for him, but she never got the chance.
He pushed her back on the king-sized bed Minke had gotten her, lifted her legs, and placed his tongue inside her already wet vagina. His lips resting on her lips, he licked and sucked her juices, enjoying the taste he'd been without for months.
She held in her yells and laid back shaking her head from side to side, her lips tightly pressed together, holding in her love sounds, as he worked his tongue in and out, up and down, from her asshole to her clit.
He took his hands and made her pussy lips wide, so he could get good suction on her clit, and flicked his tongue across it.
She placed her hands on his head lightly and opened her legs as wide as she could and concentrated on not losing her mind. “Come here, baby, please.”
Omari stopped and quickly kicked off his shoes. Then he snatched off his clothes and climbed on the bed, and got on top of her in a sixty-nine position. He raised his right leg, allowing her to get full access to him, and she began sucking him like he had the last dick on earth. Joy licked and sucked until they fell into heaven.
Then he got up, turned around, and threw himself inside her, while staring into her face. “Open your eyes,” he said.
And she did.
“I want you to know you ain't just fuckin'. You makin' love to yo nigga. Recognize me, baby,” he said as he made love to her slowly.
Omari pulled out, and before she knew it, he was eating her again.
Then he was back inside her, throwing dick.
Then he was eating her again.
Before she came, he lifted himself up, keeping her lips wide and her clit exposed as he positioned himself to slide inside her and lay on her clit, and instead of pumping, he grinded while his satisfier only moved slightly.
Joy wrapped her legs around him as they bucked like animals and made animal sounds. She felt her body begin to cum.
The sounds she made in his ear took Omari over the edge, and his body tightened. He reached around her body, allowing his body to fold into her, and squeezed her as he bucked quickly inside her.
Joy heard a grunt and moan that let her know that he truly missed, and enjoyed her.
They lay exhausted, sweat gleaming from their bodies, and juices running between their legs. Omari lifted himself and rolled on his back, and she jumped up and went in the bathroom to clean up.
She returned with a warm washcloth and wiped him from the tip of his dick to the back of his balls. Then she licked him from the tip to back until he was hard again, and he had her bent over, legs spread, pounding her like no tomorrow.
Joy gave it back, allowing him to get up in her as deep as possible, where he would hit and make her pusssy make the gushing sounds.
Omari could really feel her squeezing on his dick, but when he reached around and palmed her breasts, which filled each hand, and massaged them, he got the extra stiffness he longed for, which excited her and gave her that sensation to keep her going.
His body felt so good, and he was about to cum, but he wanted her to cum with him, so he let her right breast go and reached down and fingered her clit, sending her bucking out of control as her juices flowed on his fingers.
Omari leaned back and spread her ass cheeks and slowly slid his middle finger in her ass. And she slowed down, allowing it to ease all the way in, until he could feel his finger riding on top of his dick, with only the thin layer of ridged skin separating his dick and finger. He then fucked with precision, straight in and out, wiggling his finger inside her ass.
Joy's breathing increased, her head dropped, and her mouth parted, and she concentrated on the greatest feeling she knew.
When she let out a moan, he felt a warm gush on his satisfier that he'd never felt before, and it sent him over the top, making him cum so hard. He then jammed himself inside of her with such force, his finger popped out her ass, and she fell flat as his body collapsed on top of hers. Omari was jerking uncontrollably, like he was having a seizure.
Joy turned to the side, and he slid behind her, never pulling out. And he wrapped her in his arms, and in silence they fell asleep.
The following morning Omari jumped up at the sounds of Joy's kids at her bedroom door.
“I'm coming down!” she yelled.
“I need to go?” Omari asked.
“Not unless you have somewhere to be. I'm not going in until one today. Be right back.” She smiled. “Relax.”
Joy went downstairs, took care of her kids, and got them out the door. She then made her way back upstairs. In seconds, she was laying in the middle of her bed, legs open, and Omari was slamming his dick inside of her slowly, staring down at her, and she was staring back, enjoying his every stroke.
While she held him in her arms, her eyes watered, and tears slowly ran down her face. That was when she realized she loved Omari, but she couldn't allow herself to fall for a broke-ass man. Not totally. She also loved Minke, but she was getting used to him not being there.
She wasn't used to Omari not being there, because he was the only man who needed her to survive, for his well-being, and she liked him being there. Omari gave his time, but not by choice, because he didn't have shit else to do. He wasn't a paper chaser like Minke and Sizemo. He was . . .
Joy didn't know what to think. All she knew was, she was happy this morning. Happier than she'd been in a long time.
“That was all that. Damn! I miss my girl.”
“And I miss you, Omari. You just don't know how many times I wanted to call you, or answer your call. I'm doing what I have to do, not what I want to do. That's what it came to, for my kids and for myself,” she said softly.
“Okay, I'm not gonna get in your way. I been known where you stay. At first, I was gonna kill your man, but I didn't want to kill your kids' father. So this is how I played it. I rode by many times and seen Juan hanging out several times. I love you, Joy. Nothing gonna keep you from me, so play your hand, but don't play me.
“I won't,” she said, kissing him.
Right or wrong, Joy hadn't felt this good in a long time. Her life was balancing, and she wasn't feeling so messed up inside. She finally realized, as long as she had someone loving her, showing her attention, and placing her in the wifey position, it did wonders for her feelings of self-worth.
She cooked him breakfast, they sat and ate, talked, then showered together, before making her way out the door.
“So am I gonna see you later?” he asked slowly, shutting the door to her car.
“I want to. I'll call you and let you know.”
“Let me know, Joy. I'm missing you already. Don't forget, up to several months ago, you came home every day to me and the kids. You don't miss that?” he asked, gleaming.
“I do, I really do,” she answered, looking at him.
Standing there by her door, Omari had no idea how bad she wanted him there like that. If Minke wasn't gonna be there, by his own choice, then fuck him. No matter what he did for her financially and sexually, she was lonely, and she wanted her family.
“We'll talk later. I'll call you. Let me get over here,” she said.
“Give me some change, man.” Omari patted his pockets. “Shit! I'm cracked.”
“Omari, I don't got no money,” she said with a look that he knew so well.
“Kill that shit, Joy. You got a nigga taking care of you, paying all yo' shit, and you get to fuck up that phat-ass Verizon check. Please, give me some money.”
“You went from change to some money.” She looked in her purse.
“Man, give me some money. Look at the kicks, same jeans you seen me in when you had me scrambling out your house.”
They both laughed.
“Shut up, boy,” she said, still laughing. She knew he was still fucked up, but he was her boy, and had been there through some rough times.
“I know you ain't carrying around in your purse what I want.” He smirked. “I'll follow you to the bank.”
Joy shook her head and put the sixty dollars she had in her hand back in her purse.
She pulled up at work thinking about what Omari said when she gave him that three hundred dollars. She had asked him, “How you know where I live?”
“You put me down as an authorized user on your phone. So I called Cox and gave them the last four of your social, and they gave me your address, bill amount due, everything,” he'd said, never cracking a smile.
CHAPTER 13
That muthafucka crazy,
she thought, getting out of her car. She had a serious look on her face as she approached the building.
When the door swung open, she stepped back and gazed into the eyes of the most handsome man she'd laid eyes on in a long time. He was like no guy she'd been with. He was mature, and his wide, jet-black beard was trimmed perfectly, laying on his dark brown skin. Her eyes gazed on his full lips, and bright eyes with long eyelashes.
He smiled, and she exhaled.
“You okay, baby?” he asked in a voice that actually soothed her.
“Yes, just beautiful. I don't wanna box you,” she said with a smirk, throwing her hands up.
“No, we don't want that,” he replied, looking into her cute, young-looking face that revealed some age, from the darkness around her eyes.
He took in her smooth, flawless caramel skin. Then his eyes glanced down to her large breasts that couldn't be hidden behind those arms. He looked down at the short, little, fat girl and was amazed at how beautiful she was.
“My name is Andre Brooks.” He smiled, showing his shining white teeth.
“You said that like you're important.” She smirked.
“I am, baby. You better Google that shit.”
“Alecia,” she said, sticking her hand out.
“Nice to meet you. What do you like to do?”
Andre's question caught her off guard, but she bounced back quickly. “Bowling, Jillian's, walk the beach, whatever. Long as I ain't bored.”
“I'll take you bowling, to Jillian's, the beach, if you go to a party with me on Saturday.”
“Where? Is it a dressy occasion?”
“Semi-formal. So, what time am I picking you up tonight?”
“What time am I meeting you?”
“No. What time am I picking you up, like the lady you are, for our date this evening?” he asked with no smile, showing his seriousness while staring her down.
“Six thirty. I got to work. Can't stay out late.”
“I'll call you when I'm on my way and get the address.”
Andre handed her his BlackBerry Curve, and she put in her number and handed it back to him. Then he pressed send, and her phone rang.
“Lock me in, so you'll know who's calling and always pick up.”
Alecia walked into the building as he held the door.
Andre walked away knowing he was a winner. He'd always liked thick girls and pretty girls, and now he had the best of both worlds.
 
 
Joy walked in her house and went straight to the shower. It was the first time in a minute that someone was taking her on a real date, and she wanted to know for sure he was really coming. Dudes these days were coming at her all kinds of ways, but she didn't care. This evening, whether he showed up or not, once she was dressed, she was going somewhere.
When 6:15 rolled around, she began to worry. She was starting to think he had stood her up. But then her phone rang. It was Andre. She gave him directions, and he was there fifteen minutes later. Next time he called, he was out front.
She came out wearing her short, fitting, army-green knit skirt with a beige button-down top that came down past her waist, camouflaging her stomach, with the four-inch heels, which made her seem taller. And every step made the big, beautiful, black woman look so graceful and so stunning.
As she gave the handsome man sitting in the new platinum Buick LaCrosse a wide smile, he jumped out the car and opened her door.
“Thank you.” She respected Andre for being a gentleman.
“You look stunning, darling,” he said, looking at her and her beautiful smile.
“So what's the plan?”
“Well, we going to Granby Street Lounge downtown where one of my boys playing tonight,” he said, pulling off.
“He's in a band?”
“Yes, he plays the bass.”
“Thought we were going bowling?”
Andre smiled. “I don't think that was your plan, not dressed like that. It's either the lounge, restaurant, or a movie.”
Alecia didn't respond. Dressed in the fly shit, she wanted to make an impression, not knowing she already did.
They arrived at The Time, and the band had already set up. Andre's friend came and greeted him, and showed him the table he had reserved. They sat down, and a bottle of wine was brought to the table.
Andre took the initiative and poured their glasses. She didn't care for wine, but she never said anything or showed it. She sipped and sat like a lady as the five-man band played easy-listening jazz that had her body and head moving slowly and falling into a trance, making for a romantic evening.
Andre talked softly, his arm resting on the back of her chair, and as the wine disappeared and the music played, she slid closer, until she almost rested in his arms.
The evening was beautiful. When they pulled back up at her house, there was about thirty young'uns hanging on East Hastings. Amongst the crowd was her son Juan.
“You don't have to walk me to the door,” she said.
Andre ignored her. He got out the car and opened her door, stuck his hand out and helped her out the car, then walked her up to her door.
“You left here happy and with a smile, and I returned you the same way, I hope, a little happier and with a better feeling.”
“A great feeling. You made me feel like a lady. And I would like to thank you for a beautiful evening,” she said with a smile. “Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Yes, anything.”
“Do you have kids?”
“Yes, three.”
“Are you married? These are questions I had all night, but it was never the right time.”
“I did that on purpose, Alecia,” he said, looking at her. “I wanted the evening to be relaxing. Two people who just met enjoying each other's company without stress, just out for a nice time, with no wonders or attitudes. And it worked for the most part. No, I'm not married.”
“And how old are you?”
“Forty,” he said proudly. “And you?”
“Thirty-three,” she said. “Damn! You look good. I was thinking thirty-five at the most.”
“Thank you. I was giving you thirty, but it didn't matter. I been feeling you since I almost knocked you out.” He laughed.
“You not a married woman with kids, are you?”
“No, I'm a divorced woman with two kids,” she said smiling. “That's my son over there with his pants hanging off his ass.”
“Which one?” he asked as they shared a laugh.
“I enjoyed your company tonight, Alecia.”
“And I really enjoyed yours, Andre. I'm impressed.”
“So tomorrow six thirty, bowling attire.”
“No doubt. See you at six thirty. Guess you'll be calling when you pull up.”
Andre leaned in, hugged her, and kissed her cheek. “Tomorrow,” he said, allowing his warm breath to hit her cheek.
Alecia got another whiff of his Curve cologne that had her not minding at all when he eased close to her in the lounge, to support her body.
She walked inside feeling like she was on cloud nine. So turned-on, she went upstairs and pulled out her short, sexy, black nightie with the spaghetti straps. She stripped naked and allowed the piece of silk to slide down on her body, climbed in her bed with phone in hand, and returned Minke's call.
He had a lot to say, questioning her about not answering her phone, verbally abusing her as always, and making threats. Usually it would hurt her to tears. And tonight it hurt her as always, but she couldn't cry. When Minke slammed the phone down, she thought about the days that he loved and respected her. Now she didn't know what he wanted.
She lay back, hurt at the words that came out of Minke's mouth, and frustrated because she'd allowed it. She shook her head, staring at her phone, and dialed Omari.
BOOK: A Hot Mess
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