May the Best Man Win (4 page)

Okay, was this a line or was he serious? I had to be smart about this and not get played like I had in the past.

“No, actually I'm thirty,” I said proudly, as I picked up my drink and sipped it.

“Really? . . . Nah, man . . . you are lying,” he said, grinning. “You're going to have to prove this to me. Show me some ID.”

I quickly whipped out my driver's license and he looked at it and handed it back to me.

“Umph . . . umph . . . umph, time has sure been good to you. You look
good,
” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, attribute that to no smoking, very little drinking, and plenty of good sex,” I said, shamelessly flirting. This guy looked like he was relationship material. I had to go in for the kill. “Then again you probably can say the same thing. What are you thirty, thirty-two?”

“Yeah, about ten years ago.” He chuckled.

“Well, I guess time has been good to you too.” I showed my pearly whites.

“My name is Darius.” He reached out to shake my hand.

“I'm Kardell.”

“Now that we got the age and name thing cleared up, I think we've checked each other out long enough. Unless you want to see a brother's social security card, so you can run a criminal and credit check on me.” I laughed very hard. He was on to me.
I take it he's been in my shoes before.

“So, how can a brother get a dance out of you?” he said, looking out at the dance floor and back at me. “I know you aren't going to let them young bucks outdo you out there on the floor.”

“Young bucks?” I said as I faked being offended. “You're on,” I said, stepping out of my chair and onto the dance floor. I wasn't about to be shown up. I had a couple of good moves in me still.

We danced until about two in the morning. I walked off the floor tired and drenched. The liquor had completely worn off. When I got back to my table, I figured it was time for me to go and make a night of it.

Darius, the older guy, met me back at the table just as I was getting my coat on.

“You're not leaving yet? The night just got started.”

“I don't stay out this late. I like to get at least eight hours of sleep before I have to get up for the next day.”

“Well, can I at least walk you to your car?” He looked at me with a disappointed look on his face.

“Um . . . sure,” I said, a little uneasy. I'd just met this dude, and he could be trying to set me up or even rape me or something.

I walked out the door with Darius in tow. I had my hand on my keys in my coat pocket. They had an emergency-size pepper spray on them that I could easily unlatch if somebody broke bad on me.

My car was about three blocks away, so we chitchatted a little as we walked. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw somebody following us. It was late and I didn't take any chances. I eased the top off of the pepper spray just in case.

“So this young tender you leaving me for, Darius?” I heard someone yell. I turned around to see an older guy, probably about sixty-five years or older, standing with a bat in his hand. My mouth flung open.

“What in the he—” That was all I could get out before the old dude started swinging. I ducked just in time, but Darius wasn't so lucky. When I looked over I saw him on the ground balled up. I looked at the old dude, who still had rage in his eyes. He looked as if he was going to swing again. I quickly pulled out the pepper spray, sprayed his ass like I was using a can of Raid on some roaches, and then hauled my ass out of there. I sprinted all the way to my car. As I got there I was shaking, fumbling my keys, and looking behind me to see if I was in the clear like a white girl in a horror flick. I jumped in my car and sped off like a bat out of hell. I wasn't going to that club ever again.

As I was driving down the block, which happened to be the one I had just sprinted up to get to my car, I noticed that the old dude was still whipping Darius's ass. I just shook my head and kept it moving. I dodged a bullet there.
Just think, I could have taken that chump home and old dude probably would have followed me home and bust out my car windows or something.
I did not need that shit in my neighborhood. I was still apologizing to my neighbors who were awakened by Ronald beating on my door weeks ago.

As I pulled up to my door, guess who was sitting on my stoop? Yep, it was Ronald. I must have talked his ass up.

“Hey, baby,” he said as I got out the car and made my way up to the steps.

“What do you want? Didn't I put you out weeks ago? Why are you back here?” I asked as I walked past him and up to my door. This guy was a thorn in my side. Really!

He walked up behind me and pressed up against me with his hard dick against my ass. He reached around and grabbed my dick with his hand and massaged it. I fumbled my keys, missing a lock for the second time in an hour.

I turned around, angry and horny. “Look, I'm tired and—”

He cut me off with a kiss that made my arms go limp. I dropped my keys and let him take advantage of me. After about a minute he pulled away and looked at me with his eyes piercing me. He was intoxicating, sexy, and irritating as hell.

“Now what were you saying?” he said as I just stared into his eyes.

“Um . . . Um . . . What was I saying?” I stood there on my stoop with my hand on my forehead. His kiss had left me absentminded and dazed.

 

 

“Hey, boo.” I kissed my best friend Dennis on his forehead as we sat down for lunch. Dennis was a white boy with just as much flare and charisma as me. Though he wasn't overly feminine like I sometimes could be. I'm not hating I just know who I like to hang out with. We complemented each other well. The only difference between me and him was he had a man. A deep, dark chocolate man. A working man. A construction worker who was all man. He was built strong, just like a Ford truck. Dennis and I met while waiting tables when we worked at Applebee's during my college years. We had clicked from the start and we had been friends ever since. Dennis was a clothing designer for a reputable fashion line out of DC and he was very good at his job. I even wore some of his designs.

“Hey, sir,” he spoke before he took a sip of his tea. We were in Mount Vernon in a quaint little restaurant with a table or two outside. We would meet up here for lunch about twice a week to chitchat and gossip a little. “So what's going on in your world?”

“Not a thing.” I smirked.

“Good day, sir. Can I get you something to drink?” A petite black woman politely interrupted me before I could go into detail with Dennis about the last couple of days in my life.

“Yes, I'll have a chocolate Frappuccino with whipped cream and a vanilla scone,” I ordered.

“Sure, I'll be right back.”

“All that sugar goes to the hips, you know that, right?” Dennis scolded me.

He always chastised me when it came down to my weight. I was a regular-looking guy, not fat or thin, but I was fit. Dennis was always fit. He looked good. But he wasn't always like that. Getting and keeping a man would do that to you. He was a gym freak. He lived inside Bally Total Fitness.

“I don't have anybody to worry about that for anyway. I don't have a man like you do.” I threw a little shade his way. It was innocent though.

“And you won't get one with a gut and thick thighs, unless you meet one who's a chubby chaser.” He smiled.

“Bitch, please. Chubby is not for me. Now don't get me wrong, I will fuck a thick guy, because I like me a thick man working me over, but I don't want to be one.” We both laughed.

“Anyway,” I pushed to change the subject from me to him. “How is Charles doing? Mr. Work Hard For The Money?”

“Chile, he is doing it and doing it well. I just can't keep him off of me. I'm surprised that I could sit down in my office chair this morning.” He was smiling extremely too hard. I was envious on the inside. Extremely envious.

“Damn, he got it like that.” I scooted up my chair a little closer to the table. The waiter came and brought me my order. She asked if I needed anything else, but I waved her away in an effort to get back to the conversation with Dennis.

“Well, baby, let's just say he brings his own jackhammer home and into the bedroom. He breaks ground every time he enters me.”

“Ump . . . ump . . . ump.” I shook my head and marveled.

“And get this. He talks to me afterward. Not that I be listening, because I be so spent afterward. He holds me and kisses the nap of my neck. I wake up to breakfast in bed sometimes, and when he leaves for work before I get up there are love notes plastered all over the house to see when I get ready to leave out for the day.”

I could have flipped the table over and walked off. I was so jealous. Not at Dennis, just that I didn't have a man like that. I got stuck with losers, leeches, or ones already on leashes.

“Damn, what the hell am I doing wrong?” I asked out loud after a few seconds.

“The right one will come along. You just have to be patient. Don't rush it. I had to go through the whole United Nations just to find mines.” We both burst into laughter.

“Now, that is true. You was a ho back in the day.” I laughed.

“Boy, please. They gave you an honorary star up on the Meat Rack for all the men you were serving up,” he said and then we both laughed again.

We ragged on each other for about another half hour before we both made our way back toward our perspective jobs. When I got back to the office I was a little peppier than I was when I had left for lunch.

Back at my desk, I was going through my “to do” list for the rest of the day. But my mind kept wandering back to the conversation that I had with Dennis today. We had fun and I loved every minute I spent with him, but he had someone to go home to. Colors and schemes weren't making me happy at home or comforting me at night. I needed a living, breathing body to do that job. I wanted someone to talk to about my dreams and aspirations. I needed someone to sit across a table from and just to stare at for as long as I wanted to without saying a word. Why couldn't I have that? Was I asking for too much or were my standards too high?

I reached in one of my desk drawers and pulled out a Dove Dark Chocolate with Almonds bar and started to devour it. Dennis was right; I was going to eat myself heavy. And I knew all too well that color on a fat man was a no-no, but I was an emotional eater. And right now I was an emotional wreck. I threw the wrapper in the trash and continued to do my work for the rest of the day.

On my way home from work I hoped and prayed that the unhappy Asian across the complex was up for some “unhappy” sex. Since we were both unhappy with our present situations, why not have some “unhappy” sex?

But I pulled into my parking spot in front of my house and sat there for a minute, hoping that he would come out of his door “coincidentally.” I hoped that he waited by the window for me to come home like a mate would do. I looked in the rearview mirror a few times before giving up and getting out of my car.

“Excuse me, can you do me a favor?” I turned to see a fine—and I mean fine—light-skinned guy standing before me.

“What can I do to you?” I blurted out my innermost thoughts inadvertently.

“Huh?” He looked at me, confused.

“Wow, I'm so sorry.” I was completely embarrassed. I looked away for a second before I spoke again. “That wasn't supposed to come out.”

“It's all good, and we've all had those moments,” he said, trying to make me feel at ease.

“I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders. I was still embarrassed.

“Anyway, I am new to the complex and I locked my keys in my car. Could you call a locksmith? Because I left my phone in my house, too.”

“Sure.” I pulled out my phone and Googled locksmiths in my area and within minutes he was on the phone arranging for a locksmith to pop his lock.

“Thank you so much.” He handed me back my phone. He had a well-manicured afro-type haircut and exquisitely tapered up goatee and mustache. He was gorgeous. Then he smiled and his teeth were subpar, a little dingy. It wasn't a total mood killer but I wouldn't kiss him right off either. “How can I pay you back for this?”

“Pay me back?” My mind wandered off to all types of places and I was in heaven just thinking about the possibilities of him and me getting it in sexually. “Don't worry about it. It's just a phone call. It was no problem at all, quite a pleasure actually.”

“Nah, tell you what. I'm a cook and I'll invite you to the restaurant I cook at and cook you whatever you want on me.”

“Oh, you got it like that huh?” I looked him up and down lasciviously. I didn't have a pure thought in my head right now.

“Maybe, you'll just have to come and check me out.”

Too late for that,
I thought as he handed me his card and smiled. I didn't know what that smile meant but I wanted it to mean some fabulous, mind-blowing sex. I could see me going off into the sunset with him.

“Well, let me go stand by the entrance gate so I can let the locksmith in when he comes.” He then turned and walked in the direction of the front gate. He had a fabulous walk and a nice butt, too.

“Daniel Asher, master chef.” I looked at his card and smiled. “I wonder what else you're a master at doing,” I said as I smiled and grinned as I walked to my front door and entered my apartment.

I was definitely going to find out about Daniel and
all
of his skills. I could only hope he was at least on both sides of the fence or hopefully just my side. The shower I took before I went to bed was all that. I couldn't help but masturbate in the shower just from the thought of maybe having a man who could cook in and out of the bedroom. Both were still to be determined. I was going to do my best to bring him on home.