Daddy Long Stroke (33 page)

Right off of Pacific Highway, I pull into Peter's Landing Marina, then park. “Aiight, pretty baby, we're here,” I say, pullin' the key outta the ignition. I slip my cell under the seat. Decide I'ma give her my undivided attention, so I won't be needin' it.

“How did you know this used to be one of my favorite places?” she asks, unfastenin' her seatbelt. I tell her I know 'cause I'm psychic. She smiles. “Whatever. I wish you would have told me this is where you were takin' me. I would have worn something else.”

In my head, I'm sayin',
“I don't know why bitches don't wanna listen. I told her ass to dress comfortably. But she wanna be on some cute shit, wearin' muthafuckin' heels.” I can tell her sexy ass is fuckin' hard-headed.
I pop open the trunk. “Don't worry, baby, I got you.” I pull out the Gucci bag and hand it to her. “I got these for you.”

She peeks inside the bag, then looks up at me. “What's this?”

“Open it up and find out.”

She pulls the box outta the bag, then opens it. “OMG, you bought these?” she asks, surprised. I nod. “That's so sweet of you. But why?”

“Because I knew you were gonna need 'em,” I tell her, grinnin', “so I scooped 'em up this mornin' for you. Here, let me help you put 'em on.” I walk 'round the car and open the passenger-side door. She follows behind me, then sits in the car. I squat down in front of her, then remove her heels. Word is bond, my mouth starts to water the minute I see her pretty-ass toes. I wanna suck 'em, but a muhfucka keeps his cool. I slip the sneakers on her feet.

“Wow, and they fit. How'd you know my size?”

I flash a wide smile, winkin' at her. “I told you I'm psychic, baby.”

“Oh, please,” she says, playfully wavin' me on. “Try another lucky guess. But I'm impressed.”

“Yeah, aiight. Call it what you want, baby. Either way, I'm pretty good at sizin' up a woman.”

“Is that so?” She stands up, glancin' down at her feet. I can tell she's pleased wit' my selection—compliments of Cherry, of course. I take her shoes and place 'em in the trunk of the car.

“No doubt, baby.”

“I'm almost afraid to ask what else you're good at.”

I grab her by the hand and lead her toward the dock. “Stick 'round, beautiful, and I'ma show you e'erything you need to know.” She smiles, shakin' her head.

Two hours later, we're at Habana Cabana—a Cuban spot— waitin' for our waiter to come back wit' our food. Kanika orders jumbo shrimp, and sliced lobster tail simmered in a Cuban red creole sauce. I order a mixed salad wit' lettuce, tomatoe, avocado, cucumber and onions and the Polla a la Habana, grilled chicken breast cooked in a red sauce wit' onions and peppers and a side order of plantains.

We're both kinda sittin' here in chill mode, sorta caught up in
our own thoughts. I'm thinkin' 'bout the hour gondola ride we had, and how she sat in front of me, laid back on my chest wit' my arms wrapped 'round her as we went through the channels. Then dude—the Gondolier—pulled up under a bridge and started serenadin' us in Italian. The whole vibe was sexy as hell. And on some real shit, I wanted to tongue her down, then fuck her right there on the spot wit' dude watchin'.

She reaches over and lightly touches my hand, bringin' my attention back to her. She smiles. “Everything okay?”

I return the smile, then hit her wit': “Yeah, e'erything's perfect. I was thinkin' how runnin' into you at Spago musta been fate. It's definitely a sign.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, lookin' me dead in the eyes while cuppin' her hands underneath her chin. “A sign for what?”

“It's top secret, baby,” I tell her, grinnin'. “Just know that right at this very moment, I'm enjoyin' e'ery minute wit' you.”

“Awwww…how sweet. I'm enjoying the time with you as well. I have to say, you're definitely full of surprises. I had no idea you could be romantic.”

“I told you, there's a lot 'bout me you don't know. I can be anything I wanna be, or whatever it is you need me to be. My only purpose today was to put a smile on ya pretty face, baby.”

“And that you did,” she says, smilin'.
Damn, I wanna lick and suck all over them pretty-ass lips.
As fine as she is, though, she's probably one of them pillow princesses. You know, one of them pretty bitches who thinks all she has to do is lay there and be cute and not put in any work; 'cause a muhfucka is just happy to have a chick like her in his bed. Like a muhfucka should be honored that she's breakin' him off some pussy. Fuck outta here! I hate them type of hoes, real talk. And those are the kinda broads I try to straight rip open for bein' muthafuckin', lazy-ass fucks.
Nah,
fuck that! She's one of them undercover freaks.
She tilts her head, runnin' her hand through her hair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I place my forearms on the table and lean in. “You don't really wanna know,” I tell her just as the waiter returns to the table wit' our food. He places our plates in front of us, asks if he can get us anything else, then leaves when we tell 'em we're good. She presses the issue, puttin' a forkful of shrimp into her mouth. I smile, watchin' her lick her lips and moan. “Damn, it's good like that?”

“Mmm-hmm, it's delicious. I love seafood. Now tell me what you were thinking when you were looking at me like that.”

“I was thinkin' 'bout makin' love to you. Wonderin' how it would feel to be deep inside of you.”

She grins.

I smile. “So is that a yes-you-can grin, or a no-nigga-you-done-banged-ya-muthafuckin'-head grin?”

She laughs. “Neither. It's an if-I-were-a-ho-I'd-probably-let-you-find-out-right-here-right-now grin. But since I'm not, I guess you're gonna have to keep wondering…”

“Damn. I guess that's too bad for me.”

She sticks her fork into another shrimp, then stops before puttin' it into her mouth. “Looks that way—
for now
, anyway.”

I smile. “Oh, aiight. I like the sound of that ‘for now.' That's wassup.”

She bites into her shrimp, then moans again, smilin'.

I shake my head. “Yo, you fuckin' wit' me. You know that, right?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she says, laughin'. “I'm just enjoying my meal.”

“Yeah, aiight. Keep it up and you're gonna end up gettin' a whole lot more to enjoy.”

“Hmmm. Is that a threat or a promise?”

I grin, winkin' at her. “You take it however you want, pretty baby.”

“I just might do that.”

We spend the rest of the time laughin' and talkin' and flirtin' to the point where we both lose track of time. When I finally glance down at my watch, it's almost five o'clock.
Oh, shit!
I pat my pockets for my cell, then remember I left it in the car.
I gotta get the fuck up outta here. I bet Cherry's been blowin' my shit up.
As much as I would like to spend the whole damn night wit' Kanika's sexy ass, I'm not about to fuck up my paper, feel me? She and I will haveta continue this vibe when I get back out to Atlanta. In the meantime, it's time to rock 'n muthafuckin' roll out. And I already know the freeway traffic is gonna be a bitch tryna get back into L.A.

I pay the bill, and I'm impressed when she says she's got the tip. I smile. She gets mad props for that, word up. I can't stand for a ho to get a paid meal, then sit with her arms wrapped tight 'round her muthafuckin' pocketbook like she ain't tryna come up offa no paper. Lucky for me, I don't haveta deal wit' that bullshit since you already know a muhfucka like me hardly ever comes outta his pocket to buy a bitch shit. Yo, hol' up…So what if the money I spent today ain't mine. It never is.

When Kanika says she has to use the bathroom, I tell her I'ma run out and get the car, so she doesn't haveta take that walk back. She thinks it's me bein' sweet that I offer, and I don't let her know any different. But, on some real shit, it's me needin' to check my phone messages wit'out her bein' all up on my ear, if I need to make any calls.

I get to the car and immediately check my phone before pullin' off. I have seven missed calls and five new messages. Cherry hit me up only once, which is surprisin'. The other calls are from Akina, Vita, Carla, and Maleeka. I listen to the messages. Cherry says
she's not gonna get in until after eight, which is a big relief for me. Now I don't haveta feel rushed. Akina wants to know why I haven't called her. Vita apologizes for goin' off, says she's sorry to hear 'bout my loss, and wants me to call her as soon as I can. Carla and Maleeka want dick, as usual. I delete all my messages, then hit Cherry up. When she doesn't pick up, I leave a message:
“Hey, baby. I got ya message. I took a ride down to Huntington Beach; should be back 'round seven. My dick's been hard all day, so you already know what it is. I'm horny as fuck, so be ready to get that pussy beat up real good tonight.”
Hell, I ain't lyin'. Kanika's sexy ass got my shit on rock. But since she ain't passin' off them drawers, Cherry's gonna haveta make it pop for me.

Next I call Vita and leave a message as I'm pullin' up in front of the restaurant. Kanika's standin' outside waitin' wit' a smile. She hops in. I wait for her to put on her seatbelt, then speed off toward the freeway.

“So when am I gonna see you again, baby?” I ask, glancin' over at her.

“I don't know,” she says, smirkin'. “I'll need to check my calendar to see if I can fit you in.”

“Oh, it's like that, hunh?”

“Yep.” She giggles. “You can't think a meal and a boat ride is gonna make it easier for you to see me again. Oh, no, Mister. You're gonna have to come harder than that.”

I laugh. “Baby, you ain't said nuthin' but a word. All you gotta say is when and where, and how hard you need it…I mean, me, to
come.
And you got it.”

She playfully swats at me. “You're a mess. I guess I opened myself up for that one.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle, “you fell right into it. So you might as well open wider and say, ‘Aaaaaaah.'”

She sucks her teeth, laughin' as she digs into her pocketbook
and pulls out a pack of gum. She offers me a piece, but I'm good so I tell her, “No thanks.”

“Annnnnnyway, pervert…when's the next time you're gonna be in Atlanta?”

“I'm not sure. Why, you wanna see me?”

“Maybe,” she says, rollin' a piece of Doublemint into her mouth, “maybe not.”

“Yeah, aiight. Don't front. You know what it is.”

She laughs.

My cell vibrates and the screen lights up. I take a quick glance at it sittin' up on the console, and see that it's Vita callin'. It dings when she leaves a message, then starts buzzin' again. She's callin' back.

“Do you need to get that?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

I take my right hand off the steerin' wheel and reach over and grab her hand. “Yeah, I'm very sure. The only person I'm interested in talkin' to at this moment is sittin' right beside me.”

“Good answer,” she says, squeezin' my hand.

“It's the only answer, pretty baby,” I reply, pullin' her hand up to my lips and gently kissin' it. On some real shit, I wanna drag my tongue along the center of her palm, but I restrain myself. She's been keepin' it classy, so I'ma respect her space and keep it gentlemanly. She smiles, pulls her shades down over her eyes, then places her head back on the headrest, holdin' my hand in hers the rest of the ride. I turn on the radio and tune into Power 106, L.A.'s hip-hop and R&B station and maneuver my way through this fucked-up traffic.

 28 

“I wanna talk to you about something that's been on my mind,” Cherry says, lookin' up at me. She moves a wet strand of weave from her face. We finished fuckin' less than five minutes ago, and we're both sweaty and still pantin' like wild beasts. And this ho wants to flap her jaws. Why the fuck chicks wanna talk right after they finish gettin' their backs gutted is beyond me. What the fuck?! I'm in no mood for talkin'. I wanna lie here and rest in
silence
. But I know that's not 'bout to happen.