Unmasking Charlotte (a Taboo Love series) (23 page)

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Authors: M.D. Saperstein,Andria Large

BOOK: Unmasking Charlotte (a Taboo Love series)
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Charlotte

I am so excited for Delilah’s bachelorette party. It has been a crappy few weeks and I have been in a funky mood. Calvin probably thinks I am chronically PMS’ing, but I’m not. He also probably thinks that I have been avoiding meeting his parents, but I honestly haven’t. I can’t help it if every time we are supposed to go to their house for dinner I get sick. It’s not like I am doing it on purpose, like I enjoy feeling this way. I can’t seem to shake this damn virus. I am finding it increasingly more difficult to stomach my meals, and what does go down, doesn’t usually stay down. It’s making me tired and irritable.

On top of dealing with all of that,
I found out that DeShawn’s parole was actually granted. Can you believe that shit? Anyway, when my dad told me, I started to freak out. But he reassured me a little when he told me that he was on house arrest and was only permitted to leave to go to work, court, or to a doctor. Even then, he needed permission from his parole officer. Oh, and I have a permanent restraining order against him so he can’t come within 500 feet of me, my home, or my work. Still, I have been having trouble shaking the nervous feeling in my gut, and I guess I have been taking it out on everyone around me, including Calvin. But the buck stops here, tonight. It is time for me to have fun again and live my life to the fullest.

Calvin is sitting in my living room watching TV
while I finish getting ready. I am almost dressed when I hear him shout, “Let’s go, woman! What’s taking so long?”

“I am working on it! It’s takes time to look this good,” I holler back.

I am actually almost ready. I am wearing my favorite black skinny jeans and a black corseted top with hot pink laces, which make my boobs look awesome. And a little bigger than usual. Hmm. No complaints about that. I am completely dressed, except for my pants. Well, they are on, just not buttoned. They are a little tight and I want to wait until the last minute to button them. I must have put them in the dryer by accident. Either that or I have gained a few pounds. If that’s the case, then we are going to have to stop eating out so much, and I have to start running again. Come to think of it, when was the last time I went for a run?

I go about finishing my mascara, the last thing that needs to be done before I zip up and we can get out of here. I reach down to button my
pants, and …no go. Not happening. I try a few more times sucking in my stomach, straightening my back, sticking out my boobs. Nope, not gonna happen. I have one more idea.

I go to my bed and lie down on my back. This has to work! I struggle again to button my jeans and I still can’t do it. I am literally fighting with them to get them closed. My knees now bent, ass off the bed, straining. Moaning. Groaning. That’s when Calvin decides to join the fun. He is leaning on the doorframe, hands in pocket, legs crossed at his ankles, sexy as sin smirk on his face.
Damn, he is fine!

“Wha
t is going on in here?” he asks with that damn smile on his face.

“Stop being a creepy peeper and help me!”

Calvin laughs, shaking his head, pushes off the doorframe, and heads toward me. Stalks toward me, actually. Like a predator coming upon hurt prey.

“Stop looking at me like you are going to eat me and help me button these damn things,” I say snarkily, unable to hide my smile.

“What do you need me to do, Pinky? I am more accustomed to taking clothes off you, not helping to put them on.” He is so sexy at that moment that I actually consider skipping the party and tackling him to the bed. I can feel my thong dampen and I am beyond aroused. But I know Delilah would kill me if I missed her bachelorette party. Especially since I planned most of it.

I take a deep breath and Calvin grabs
the top of my pants and smashes them together, the hole finally gets close enough to the button that I can slide it through. I do some contortionist position to get the zipper up and then flop back down. Holy hell, I can barely breathe.

Calvin stare
s down at me and our eyes lock. I have no idea what he is thinking, but it looks serious. I look away first, not really wanting to go
there
tonight. I try to sit up, but once again, I need to ask Calvin for help. He grabs my arms and pulls, and I come up off the bed stiff as a board, unable to bend my midsection.

I go to grab my favorite leopard print stilettos with the hot pink heals, which match my corset
perfectly, but I can’t bend over to reach them. Calvin watches me struggle, then bends to get them for me mumbling something about damn women and fashion. I just smile and thank him for helping me. I give myself one more once-over in the mirror before leaving my bedroom. That’s when it happens. I get a good look at my ass. Holy shit! When did that happen? Calvin must see the grimace on my face. He closes his eyes, knowing what’s coming next. The one question every man dreads to hear.

“Hey, honey?”

“Yeah, baby girl?” he asks hesitantly. He knows it’s coming. Here it comes. Wait for it…

“Does my ass look big in these jeans?”

“Yes,” he states matter-of-factly.

“What?” I shriek.

Calvin sidles up behind me, us both looking in the mirror. He wraps his arms around my waist and pumps his rock hard cock in my ass. “This is what that ass of yours does to me,” he whispers in my ear, then nibbles on my lobe. “I like a little extra junk in your trunk,” he adds, smoothing a hand down my rump.

I shiver at the sensuality of it all, but it is not enough to distract me from the fact that my man just told me
that I have a fat ass.
My man, sigh.
“I can’t believe you just told me that I have a big ass!”

He gives me a mischievous smile in the mirror, and then spins me
around in his arms quickly. He looks me dead in the eyes, like he is about to tell me something really serious. “Come on, baby, you know my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, hun.”

I lean my head back and let out a loud laugh. I can’t believe this man. I point my finger into his chest and tell him, “You, my friend, are insane.”

Now I know he has lost his mind because he makes a “cuckoo” motion with his finger near his head, bounces up and down, and sings out, “insane in the membrane, insane in the brain.”

“You have lost your ever freaking mind.”

“Y’all gonna make me lose my mind. Up in here, up in here,” he sings out raising his arms like he is raising the roof.

I just can’t. There are no words.

“If you are done cataloging the most overplayed hip hop songs from the 90s, maybe we can get out of here and get our own groove on?”

Calvin lets out a loud bark of a laugh, and I can’t help but smile at him. He really is the most gorgeous man
that I have ever seen, but when he smiles and laughs like that, my heart just melts.

“Just one question before we go,” he says.

“Okay…”

“Who?” is all he asks.

“Who, what?” I ask back, confused as all hell.

“Who let the dogs
out, woof woof!” he goes on pumping his fist in the air like he is in Arsenio’s dog pound.

I just shake my head and walk toward the dog, ready to leave his stuck-in-the-90s ass behind. “Let’s go Marky Mark. The funky bunch is waiting for us.”

With that, Calvin scoops me up and carries me out to the car, and all I can do is laugh at this delicious man. Smiling inside, knowing that he is mine.

 

Charlotte again…

Weekends fly by so quickly. Why is that? I mean
, the week just drags and drags and drags. But as soon as it’s Friday, BOOM, it’s Monday again. And when the days are busy, it ends even quicker. I am complaining, of course, because it is Monday and I am stuck at work when I would rather be home lazing around. Things have been really slow here, except for a few unusual hang-ups, so I find myself daydreaming a lot. I still get a good laugh when I think about the bachelor/ette party a few weeks ago.

The party went off without a hitch…mostly. Okay, I think it
was perfect, with the exception of me getting sick from the champagne. One damn sip and I was puking. I don’t know if it was the smell or what, but man did it wreak havoc on me. Anyway, other than that, I think it was awesome, but Nick may disagree. You see, before they decided to make it a joint party, I had decided that I was going to get a stripper for Delilah. Mainly because I knew it would embarrass the shit out of her. I also thought it would be good entertainment for the rest of us gals. I scoured the internet for different companies that offered “rent-a-stripper,” and when I came across this one, there was no other choice. No turning back. The Italian Stallion was his stage name, and he had Delilah written all over him.

So, anyway, when they decided to make it a joint party, and Calvin told me that I can invite whomever I wanted, the Italian Stallion made the top of my list. What ensued once he arrived was completely out of my control
. I am going to skip all the usual stuff – the pranks, the drinking, the name-calling, the dancing, and the groping – and just tell you about the good stuff. That being, of course, the Italian Stallion.

Picture this…
Nick getting dry humped by a buff, mostly naked, man. Of course, several events led up to this, so I will have to go back for a moment. When it was time for the stripper to come out, we sat Nick and Delilah in the middle of the dance floor on chairs. As a precaution, I tied Nick’s hands behind his back because I wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to react, and Iooking back, I am so glad that I did. I’m sure he knew that I was getting a stripper for Delilah, that’s why he complied. What he didn’t know, was that I paid the stripper double to grind his balls all over Nick.

 

When the Italian Stallion came out, and did his little stripper dance number, I was lucky that Nick was restrained. He looked like he was about to put the kibosh on the whole thing when Delilah started slipping singles into the guy’s briefs. Once the Italian Stallion had his fill of Delilah, he gave her a wink and a kiss on the cheek before making his way over to Nick. Nick’s eyes widened when he realized what was about to happen. He yelled and screamed for someone to release him. Everyone was laughing, even the Italian Stallion as he rubbed his ass against Nick’s crotch. The stripper twerked in Nick’s lap for a moment before turning around shoving his Italian salami in Nick’s face. Calvin and Parker were literally on the floor hysterical laughing. The final straw was when Delilah stuck dollars in the collar of Nick’s shirt so that the stripper could take them out with his teeth. Nick swore a bloody horrible death on me, but it was so worth it.

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