Baby, You're the Best (15 page)

CHAPTER 34

Alexis

 

 

 

C
hanel shocked me yesterday. She let loose like never before! Damn!I didn’t have to do anything. She rode me. Went down on me. The body massage was fantastic but when my gurl caressed the arch of my foot, slid her tongue between my toes, then sucked my big toe like it was the head of a dick, I had a total body orgasm. I enjoyed every second. Chanel called in sick to the strip club. Stayed at my place. Danced for me. Washed my body with hers in the shower. Then she spooned me all night. Cooked me breakfast this morning and she fed me.

Chanel didn’t need my permission to be sexually uninhibited. Why was she bottling up all that Good Good with her insecurities? If Chanel cared less, I know I’d care more. She was a keeper though. I may have to get on one knee, put James’s rock on my gurl’s ring finger, tell him to buy me another five-carat, then ask him to marry us.

Standing in the doorway of my bathroom, I asked Chanel, “You almost done?”

“I am done,” she said. Turning sideways to avoid touching me, she exited the bathroom.

This was the foolishness I understood but hated dealing with. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Chanel dressed, then left. I heard her crying on her way out the door. We both knew the truth. Hot as last night was, I wasn’t going to give up James.

I felt an empty space when she closed the door without telling me bye. Soon as she’d left, to balance out the love I was feeling for her, I shifted to the new person in my rotation.

I texted LB,
We’re still on?

He replied,
I’m all yours.

Not hardly.
Getting ready for my date with LB, all I could think about was how cool his friend Domino was. One week had passed since Fortune died. I wasn’t an insensitive person all the time but truly I was glad Fortune would never inhale again. Mom didn’t go to the funeral because there wasn’t one. Word was once the autopsy confirmed Fortune had a heart attack, Fortune’s wife cremated him immediately, then cashed in on the million-dollar life insurance policy she’d kept on him. If I married James, I was definitely getting seven figures of coverage.

I called my mom.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” she answered with a high pitch.

Okay, that was the I-just-got-some-real-good-dick sound. Not wanting to interrupt her flow, I lied, “I have to take this call. I’ll call you back.”

“All right, I love you. Bye, honey.”

Domino had stayed by my mom’s side the entire time after the incident. That proved he was special. What guy would do that for a woman he’d just met unless he really liked her or was he hiding out from that crazy bitch who cursed out my mom? If I ever met Charlotte, she had a backhand coming for calling my mother a bitch.

Regardless of our reasons, Mercedes, Devereaux, Sandara, and I appreciated Domino’s caring for our mother. Mom needed someone to be there for her. Family was cool. But the touch of a loving man, not much compared to that.

If a man ever put his hands on me, I won’t have to wait for Georgia to adopt the stand-your-ground law, I’d take his ass out. He’d be exactly like Fortune . . . one less breathing asshole.

I called LB, put him on speaker, then started brushing my teeth.

He answered, “Don’t tell me something came up?”

I laughed. “No, I’m almost ready. Look, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

I stopped brushing, then asked, “Who’s Charlotte and what is she to Dom, I mean Spencer?”

LB became quiet, then said, “If I tell you, you can’t tell your mom.”

“Cool,” I said. Turning off the faucet, I listened attentively.

“That’s his girl but I think he’s ending it.”

“Why?”

All he’d said was, “A minor hiccup. Shit happens. That’s Spence calling. I’ll see you shortly.”

LB should’ve kept his damn mouth shut if that was all he had to say. I hated people who volunteered information but declined to give details.

The guys I knew were better at keeping secrets than my female friends. Like my fiancé having a side chick across country. None of his boyz would’ve told me that but I’d bet all of James’s friends knew about Cleopatra. Even if James were faithful, my being engaged to him didn’t feel right. The best way for me not to have my indiscretions spread wider than my legs was for me to start keeping everyone out of my personal business.

I slipped into a lemon romper with a gold and silver beaded necklace. No five-inch stilettoes today. My tan open-toed three-inch heels with the yellow ankle straps were the perfect match. Bending over, I hung my head upside down, fingered my natural strands, stood, then tossed my dark wavy hair behind my shoulders to create a sexy, untamed fullness.

This date was a good start for me to get back at my fiancé. I might take a total break from James and focus on Chanel. Maybe I should take a few days off from seeing Chanel to give her time to reflect on what she really wanted.

Turning up my music from my cell, I twerked in my bathroom mirror. Domino had that kind of attraction that made me want to rip his clothes off, throw him down, ride his dick, and make him cum.

Maybe LB would have the same effect on me. I doubted it. People either had chemistry or they didn’t. Stepping onto my patio, I took a deep breath, glad it was Saturday afternoon. The sun was brightly shining; it was a blazing eighty-five. It was too hot for me. I went inside hoping whatever LB’s surprise was did not require us to be outdoors. My cell rang.

“Hey, LB. You here?”

“Downstairs. Outside, sweetheart.”

Perfect. Men needed to respect a woman’s request.

“See you in a sec,” I said, ending the call.

CHAPTER 35

Alexis

 

 

 

I
could’ve invited him in but I didn’t typically let guys inside my apartment until after they’d taken me out, I had their home and work addresses, I knew their mother’s and father’s first and last names.

Although LB and Spencer were friends, I still ran a background check on Lawrence Bennett. No failures to appear, misdemeanors, or felonies came up. I took one last look in the mirror, gave myself a confident smile, grabbed my piece, put it in my purse, then locked my front door.

Exiting the lobby by the leasing office, I saw LB facing the five-star mall across the street. Tom Ford, Gucci, Prada, Dior, and other high-end retailers were there. No Bebe’s or Outfitters. I had to drive five minutes to Lenox or Phipps for my other favorite department stores. I lived in the heart of what had become known as the Rodeo Drive of Bollywood.

“Wow.” His brows hiked toward his neatly trimmed hairline. He didn’t blink.

Great! Especially for a first date, I always dress for the wow factor.

“Spence didn’t tell me you were so beautiful.”

What?
“Stop acting like you didn’t notice me at the restaurant with my mom and sisters last week. You were our waiter.”

“I swear I didn’t. I mean I saw you but I didn’t. All I recall is all of you were attractive. Plus you were sitting and I was in customer-service mode. Anyway, you look amazing. You did all this for me?” he asked.

If he was serious, he truly hadn’t checked me out. But I knew he was lying. I replied, “Of course I dressed for you.” What difference did it make if that was what he wanted to think?

Opening his arms, he gestured for a hug, then whispered in my ear, “Thank you for asking for my number.”

You’re not the one I wanted but you’re here now.
Spencer could’ve given me a different contact and another man would be standing here. Hopefully LB wasn’t one of those guys who stroked his own ego all the time by constantly reminding a female that he was not the one to initiate getting together.

“You look nice too. Love the shirt.”

Men needed an incentive to do more and if LB planned on tasting my pussy, he was going to have to do a lot. A guy would have to be a real asshole for me not to compliment him at least once. Twice was optimal. Ego boosters prior to sex helped maximize a man’s performance.

A real diva always allowed her women and men to like her more than she did them. Heartaches were for people who cared about breaking up. Once a dick walked out the door, I was done until it was time for me to cum on it again. Maybe my hard exterior was a shell protecting me from all the bullshit players in Atlanta. Never failed. The men I thought would never screw up always proved me wrong. Women cheated, too, but we were better liars.

Guys didn’t have to do much to be presentable. LB had on blue denims, a tapered short-sleeved T-shirt that showed off his well-defined biceps. His shirt was tucked behind his big belt buckle that had a cross on it. The rest of his tee hung over the sides and back of his jeans. I gave him another hug so I could inhale his cologne again and press against his dick imprint. He didn’t appear to be as hung as Spencer but I’d underestimated the size of a few guys. Depending on his expansion, his dick could be a keeper.

“You smell good enough to eat,” I told him, sliding my hand down his spine to his butt. “Nice whip.” It was true. His silver Mustang with black leather interior was hot.

I’d seen passive women in Atlanta get pushed out of the way in a nanosecond. A thirsty bitch would get drenched with semen and left ass up to dry. I’d never allowed either to happen to me.

LB opened my door, waited until I was settled into the passenger seat, then closed it. Easing on my sunglasses, I watched him proudly walk in front of his car. He was more attractive than I remembered. Depending on how well our date went, I might give slim sexy some pussy.

“Where to?” he asked, starting the engine. “I’ll make three suggestions but before you decide, we’re only dropping in for appetizers and drinks, then we’re headed to . . . I can’t tell you. What’s it going to be? Ray’s on the River, Cheesecake Bistro at Atlantic Station, 10th and Piedmont, or you can choose a different spot.”

I laughed. “10th and Piedmont? Really?”

“No, I’m not gay. What difference does it make where we eat long as the food and drinks are good? If we go, you’ll see for yourself that I’m not suspect. Down-low dudes don’t take chicks to gay spots. Besides, I know how you females think every man in the ATL is bisexual, on the low, or straight-up gay. For the record, in case you’re one of those females that try a bruh, all you need to know is nothing goes in my ass. Now where’s it going to be?”

Something was going in his ass and he was going to like it. “Ray’s on the River,” I said, not wanting to deal with the weekend crowd at Atlantic Station. “We need to make time to visit my mom? I have to check on her.” Actually, Domino was the one I wanted to see me.

“I can make that happen,” LB said, stopping at the red light. “But we’re going to have to cut drinks short. Cool?”

“Cool.” But I wasn’t asking.

He glanced at me, then shook his head. He valet-parked his silver mustang. The waterfall behind the host stand flowed down the wall. He had some class. I prayed he wasn’t trying to impress me and this would end up being the best place he’d take me.

“Bar area, inside or out?” he asked, pointing to the right.

“Definitely inside.”

He sat beside me at the highboy table. Scooted his stool so close to mine our thighs touched.

“Hope you don’t mind but I like sitting next to my date.”

Any closer he’d be on my lap. Exhaling, I moved my chair a few inches away from his. “This is better.”

“That’s cool,” he said.

There was a moment of awkward silence until the waitress took our drink order. I hated when dudes got quiet and had that underlying pissed off attitude. A few pertinent things were discussed during our telephone conversations throughout the week. He’d grown up in a small town outside of Atlanta, called Warner Robins. His dad was a civilian employee for the Air Force. His mom managed the Carrabba’s in Macon.

I’d told him the basics about my mom and sisters. Nothing to tell him about my dad except “I never met him.” I knew his abandonment influenced my distrust of men. If my father could walk away from me without remorse, he represented a lot of men.

We ordered from the appetizer menu. Right now I was more enthused about my mai tai than LB. Hopefully that would change soon.

“So you graduated from Clark but you bartend at a restaurant. Why?”

He stared me down. “It pays the bills. That’s why. Gives me flexibility to job-search.” Sighing, he said, “Tell me more about yourself.”

This dude had issues. I was here; I’d make the most of my time. He already knew I was in grad school. He knew where I lived. He’d informally met my mother and sisters. I told him, “I enjoy hiking, weekend getaways to places like the DR, Jamaica, Paris. New York and Miami are cool if I’m chilling stateside. Want to go to Dubai, Greece, Venice, Australia. And I’m passionate about everything I do.” I looked into his eyes, then moaned, “Everything.”

He smiled. I knew the second “everything” would get his dick hard. I wanted to let him know, “I love men with money who don’t mind spending it on me,” but I could sense my opening LB’s wallet in that kind of way would’ve made him uptight so I asked, “Where are some of the places you’ve applied?”

“Applied?”

“Job. You mentioned you were looking.”

“Oh, yeah. Chosen, um—”

I had to interrupt. “Really?”

Nodding, he said, “Really.”

“The modeling agency, Chosen?”

He put his hand under his chin, turned sideways, looked up, then laughed. “Relax, girl. I invited you out.”

I pressed my lips together and smiled.

“Damn, don’t do that. That’s the same exact way Spence smiles.” He asked, “You ever think about living elsewhere?”

I shook my head. “I love ATL. Can’t imagine being far away from my family.”

I could have aunts, uncles, cousins on my father’s side in Los Angeles, Chicago, New Orleans. Forget my daddy! Fuckin’ deadbeat!

LB wrapped his arm around my waist, then drew me closer to him. What was up with his needing to have my body touching his?

Deciding to relax, I asked, “If you could vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Miami.”

“Stop. You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid to fly.”

“So you’ve never been on a plane?”

Slowly, he shook his head.

“Do you like dating older women?”

“You wondering why Spencer is attracted to your mom?”

“I am.”

“I’ve dated older but not more than three years. Spencer didn’t start dating older until after his moms passed seven years ago. Venus Domino was his everything. She made a big deal out of everything. Christmas. Halloween. Thanksgiving. His and her birthdays. They went to the movies together once a month. Mother’s Day he always designed her the coolest outfit to wear. Most of the times he picked out her clothes. All the things he did with his mom I’ve never seen him do on the regular with any female. Your mom is a good distraction from that crazy chick Char . . . I know I’m lucky to be close to and to have both of my parents living.”

That was the most attentive I’d been since I’d spoken my first word over the phone with LB. I should thank him. Char was good enough for now. Charmaine? Charla? Charissa? I’d find out from Spencer who LB had referred to.

“How long ago did your last relationship end? Why? Do you still have sex with her?” I started massaging his hand, wrist, forearm, then caressed his fingers one at a time.

“Whoa, slow down,” he said, laughing.

I let go.

“No, don’t stop touching me. That feels great. I mean on all the questions.”

Ordering another round of drinks, LB answered each of my questions. Three months. His ex had met some movie producer. And they hadn’t had sex since she’d left him. He didn’t seem bitter about her upgrade.

LB leaned in for a kiss. I gave him a sample of what he could get later if he didn’t fuck things up. For the moment, he’d taken my mind off of Spencer.

“If we’re going to make it to our final destination on time,” he said, holding up two tickets, “we’d better get going.”

This guy might be a decent catch. Someone new to have a lil fun with. Closing out the tab, we got back in his Mustang, then headed to my mom’s.