Lickin' License (5 page)

“On another note, what's up with your book?” Mimi asked.

“Halfway done. Got something to draw on now, after last night.” Vanessa flashed a sneaky grin.

“Nessa, I know you not gonna be putting your penthouse fuck scene in that damn book.”

Vanessa laughed, but she had definitely planned to rewrite her experience with Rich into
the book. He reminded her of a character in her book and the main character was based on her, so she could easily weave their sex-filled night into the story.

Vanessa and Mimi stopped at the parking lot where their cars were.
“Call me later,” Vanessa said, getting into her Altima. She pulled off, weaving through
traffic.

Rich was on her mind as she made it back to the shop in record time. She had thirty minutes left for her lunch break. The
door to the shop was open, but she didn’t see anyone inside. She figured only Candy was
inside somewhere. Vanessa walked in and headed to the back when she noticed Candy's office door slightly open.

As she stepped toward the door, she heard moaning coming from inside the office.
What the hell?
She crept softly past the lockers over the tiled floor, and then peeped through the slim opening of the doorway. “Oh my God.” She covered her mouth. It was the second time Vanessa
had seen Vera, but the first time she had seen her naked. Her face was between Candy's legs,
which hung from the edge of her desk as she laid back. Candy whined, squeezing her own breast, her eyes and mouth open and shut sporadically.

Vanessa could tell that Vera was very experienced at eating pussy. Vanessa knew that
two women were not supposed to be together, but Candy's high-yellow complexion and Vera's chocolate skin tone was a contrast that seemed to complement each other perfectly.

This is unbelievable.

Candy and Vera switched positions. Vera was now on her back on the desk. Candy was
on top, slowly grinding her pussy into Vera's mouth. Candy's huge breasts jiggled as she gyrated her hips.

“Yes, put it in,” Candy cried as Vera inserted a finger into her asshole. Candy grinded
harder and called out Vera's name louder, until she reached a climax and collapsed on Vera. Her eyes blinked as she stood, turning toward the door.

“Oh shit.” Vanessa whispered and crept off quickly. She hoped that Candy did not spot her playing
Peeping Tom. In seconds, she was outside of the shop, walking down Lennox Avenue. Her heart
was racing. She tried to digest the reality of what she had just witnessed. She looked down, realizing her
nipples were hard, visible through her tank top. She could feel a slippery wetness between her
legs as she walked.
This is not supposed to be happening.
She stepped inside of a McDonald's
bathroom and washed up. For the rest of the lunch hour, Vanessa walked throughout Harlem, fighting the feelings and curiosity that made her question her sexuality.

She nervously made it back to the shop, slowly stepping inside. Everything seemed to go
in slow motion and her mind blacked out the music blaring. The only thing she thought of and viewed was Candy, who was setting up her station.

“What's up, Vanessa?” Candy smiled at her.

Vanessa didn't know how to respond, how to interpret the smile. Paranoia was dominating her mind.

After a moment of silence, Candy asked, “You All right?” She stepped over and put her
hand on Vanessa's shoulder.

Candy's touch felt different than the normal contact Vanessa had with her. An eerie
sensation flowed from her shoulder throughout her body. She grew tense, trying not to appear
disturbed. “Just had something on my mind,” she replied and slid over to her
station.

Vanessa kept her eye
on Candy while she flat-ironed a customer’s hair. She was trying to see if Candy would reveal any signs that she had noticed Vanessa spying earlier.
But Candy was her normal self, so Vanessa assumed that her roaming eyes had gone unnoticed by
Candy. She must have made her exit from Candy’s office doorway just in time.

While Vanessa was observing Candy throughout the day, she could not help but gaze at
her body in a way that she had never looked at women. Candy's creamy skin and Amazon curves
had a new meaning since Vanessa had seen them nude. She tried not to allow her mind to
wander, but it was hard not to think of what it would feel like to be with Candy. She and Vera
had seemed so passionate and their bodies worked in unison, satisfying each other in ways that
Vanessa didn't think a man could. The wetness between her legs and her hardened nipples that resulted from the sight of the two women was something that Vanessa could not ignore. But
although she could not control her thoughts, she could control her actions. She had no plans of
acting on the visions that flowed through her mind.

Rich paced back and forth in front of the tall window behind the mahogany desk in his office. He had been engaged in a conversation with Free about Danella. After the club scene with her, Danella had left a message on his phone that she was going to have him arrested. “This freak
is a on some fatal attraction shit. And when people start talking badges and cop cars, the game
get a little too dangerous for me.”

“You're smarter than her, Rich. The last thing you should be worried about is the police.
Those days are over for you, right?” Free said.

“Yeah, man.”

Earlier Free had questioned Rich about Chanel referring to him as a drug dealer, so Rich
convinced Free that he had retired from the game. It was a lie that Rich planned to soon make
good on. Rich knew that he could not sell drugs forever. But at the moment he was a hustler at
heart. That meant he did not need any heat from the police courtesy of Danella or anyone else.

“You need to reevaluate how you treat these women, though,” said Free. “When a
famous professional woman like Danella starts making scenes in public like she did at the club,
it's because you really hurt her deep.”

“These freaks just go berserk when I hit 'em with the big skin payoff.” He laughed,
grabbing his crotch. “Women are emotional. They need discipline. That go for the famous ones
too. Danella ain't no different than Naomi Campbell or Foxy Brown. You know how they act up
in public.”

“If you know that, I'm sure you know a woman scorned is not a good look.”

Rich's speakerphone rang and he pressed the answer button. “Cindy called,” said Rich's
assistant. “She left you a message that she wants to meet you after work.”

Rich shook his head. “Thanks.” He clicked the phone off and flopped down on his leather
swivel chair, staring at Free. “I'm about to cancel Cindy.”

“You only been dealing with her a hot month.”

“That's thirty days too long. One night and one nut. That's all she's worthy of.” Rich
grinned. “I don't even know how Cindy got my work phone number. It's a reason I ain't been
dialing and her phone ain't been ringing. But some of these freaks need a magnifying glass to see I’m moving on to bigger and better things.”

“Vanessa.”

Rich pointed at Free. “Now, you—Mr. twenty-twenty vision. You need to let Cindy borrow your eyes.” He chuckled and stood up. “Let’s get something to eat.”

Both men stood up and walked into a long hallway. As they passed the water cooler and
proceeded to get on the elevator, the receptionist called Rich. She was signing a clipboard as a delivery man stacked a large box on the floor. He placed a bouquet of flowers on top of the box.

“This is all for you, Rich,” the young white receptionist said, smiling. “Somebody's really thinking of you.”

Rich stepped over to the receptionist, trailed by Free. He read the card. “From Danella, with love.” Rich shook his head and looked at Free. “She don't know when to quit.”

“You gonna open the box or what?”

“You look more interested than me. Go ahead. Open it.”

“All right.” When Free opened the box, a sickening smell overtook the area. He dropped the box. What appeared to be at least one used roll of shit-stained paper spilled out along with a large sheet of paper that read:

You're not the only one who knows how to shit on somebody. I just have the decency to wipe my ass. Danella.

“Oh my God,” the receptionist yelled, holding her nose.

“She violated,” Rich mumbled.

“Somebody actually mailed you a box of shitty paper?” Rich's supervisor asked. “This is unbelievable.”

Rich was silent. He looked around the area. Close to a dozen people seemed to
surface from nowhere. There was some laughter, but most people looked on in disgust. A couple of women were fanning their noses as they walked away.

Rich huffed.
This fuckin' freak is outta control.
He thought of Free challenging him
minutes earlier about his womanizing ways. Infidelity was a way of life for Rich. But Danella's
continuous embarrassing acts were forcing Rich to analyze the impact of his actions. The extent to
which Danella had gone—in the club and at Rich's job—demonstrated how much he had hurt her.
Rich was not moved much by women's feelings. But when the feelings he created in women
caused his life to become unmanageable, Rich knew he had a problem he needed to solve.

* * *

The shop was closing up that night as Rich strolled inside with his eyes on Vanessa. She had been on his mind since the night before. She stood beside Leah, engaged in a conversation and his eyes were transfixed on her small breasts protruding from beneath her yellow tank top. The taste of her nipples was still on his tongue. He needed to have her again. And again, and again, and again. The newness of sex with a different woman was what usually
attracted Rich to a woman. But he felt it was more than the newness. Vanessa's small body and
sexual skills was something different than the norm, something he had to have.

He walked over and kissed her, then greeted the women. Moments later Rich and Vanessa walked outside and stood next to Vanessa’s Altima.

“First things first,” Rich said. “That yard of tongue I just put down your throat was for two reasons.”

“Oh yeah?” Vanessa smiled.

Rich slipped one of her hands in between both of his. “It was to let you know I want every night to be like last night.”

“And the other reason?”

“To let every one of them freaks inside that shop know that I'm not no one-night stand
man playing hump 'em and dump ‘em with Ms. Vanessa.”

Vanessa grinned.

“I'm serious, baby. Rich been in a lot of women's beds, but he just don't go around
putting his lips on any woman. And I know my name done came up in that shop so much you might think I work there. Them jealous freaks in there probably pissing in your ear so much you might have an infection. Let me see.” He gripped her ear between his fingers.

“Stop.” Vanessa giggled. “You are crazy.”

“Listen, where you on your way to?”

“Wherever you wanna go.”

“It's not about me, baby. This your world. I'm just trying to live in it.”

“This is our world,” Vanessa said before kissing Rich. “But I'm gonna get in my car, you get in—” She looked around and paused in silence for a few seconds. “I don't see your car.”

“It's right behind yours.”

Vanessa looked at the Aston Martin DBS parked behind her Altima. The pearl white
paint job glistened underneath a streetlamp. Rich laughed to himself as he watched her eyes
expand at the sight of the customized sports car with its chrome rims. He knew she was
expecting to see the Beamer that he sped down the FDR in with her head in his lap. Vanessa's non-materialistic persona had vanished. The car with the six-figure price tag appeared to reduce
her to the same status as the women who Rich usually overwhelmed with his money-making
image.

“Follow me,” Vanessa said, before jumping inside her Altima.

Rich drove behind her, thinking of what their next sex scene would be like. His fantasies had been saturating his mind since their mind-blowing rendezvous. Rich was seeing five other women, and he occasionally scrolled through the 100-plus numbers in his Sidekick to spark an episode with an old flame. His routine had been the same for years and no
new strategies were in his game plan because of Vanessa. She had simply earned a space as
number six on the list of starters he kept in active rotation. And she would need more continuous
performances like her first in order to maintain her position.

“I know this freak ain't planning on going in there,” Rich mumbled as Vanessa parked in
front of Washington Square Park. He pulled up behind her. He had not taken a woman to a park since he was in junior high school. His dates spanned from dinner at exclusive French restaurants to Caribbean cruises. He stepped out of the Aston Martin after Vanessa exited her Altima.

She held her hands out and smiled. “So what do you think?”

“You made the call and I picked up the phone.”

Vanessa grabbed his hand. “I know this is probably different for a man of your taste, but
you'll be surprised how fun a park can be. When I was young my parents used to take me to
Yellowstone Park every year,” she said. “There's nothing like the outdoors, even if it's a city park.”

Rich walked into the park with Vanessa, and sat on a bench. He listened to her life story. She told him about her
always being the strange person in the crowd, and how people did not understand her. She told
Rich about her history with Mimi and the bond they shared. Rich also listened to her
speak passionately about her love for writing. He liked the ideas she mentioned about the novel she was working on.
As she
continued talking, Rich realized that she was holding in many things that she seemed anxious to
get off her chest. She had a unique style that was growing on Rich. He had not been with a
woman who so openly disclosed her frailties, like having her heart broken and dying without having found true love. He assumed that most women feared that their
weakness would be exploited. It was that rationale that caused Rich to keep his personal
weaknesses bottled up. So he was impressed, because Vanessa was displaying courage that he
did not have the heart to show.