Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (27 page)

“Mmm, you smell like me.”

I laughed at him, but his face was serious.

“Every time I think I know you, I find out I don’t know you at all.”

“You know the real me. All that other stuff is just an illusion.”

“Don’t ever pretend with me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Well, unless I ask you to.”

“Alright.”

I wrapped my arms around him, and he kissed me then pulled back a little. He looked like he wanted to say something. I gave him a minute to get his thoughts together.

“Now I have a request,” he said.

“And what might that be, Mr. Samson?”

“Can you do that ass trick again?”

I laughed out loud, but his face was serious. And that made me laugh even more. He grabbed both ass cheeks and squeezed hard.

Chapter 13

How We Used to Be

T
he next morning the suite phone rang at eight o’clock.

“Meeting in the penthouse in thirty minutes. Bring the Big Indian,” the voice on the phone said.

“Alright,” I said sleepily. I hung the phone up and Jyme pulled me back under his arms.

“We have a meeting in thirty minutes,” I yawned.

“We?”

“I guess everybody. I’m not sure. Who knows with Troy.”

We fooled around for the next fifteen minutes, then showered and dressed for the meeting. We both wore ponytails, tees, and jeans. The monster breakfast spread was out as usual and we took full advantage of the bar. There were so many faces there that I didn’t know; but they seemed to know mine. Some kept their distance from Jyme and me, and others introduced themselves. One guy in particular seemed very eager to meet us. His name was Armani, and he was Armenian. He was one of Troy’s new right-hand men. Trey kept giving him these looks of death. I wondered what Armani had done to him.

The door opened and Korliss, Kelton, and Roman walked in. I knew all three of these bodyguards and I would and could call them friends. They smiled when their eyes landed on Jyme and me. They all went straight to the bar and loaded up. Everyone had extra helpings and was enjoying the food.

Troy came out of the office about ten minutes later. He stood in the front of the room and cleared his throat to stop the side conversations.

“As you can all see, we have found one of our lost sheep. The beautiful Cricket has come back home.”

Everyone clapped and some even cheered, and that made me feel good. She has apparently brought a lifetime bodyguard of her own, so I would like to also welcome her companion, Jyme back to the family as well. Some nodded at Jyme, and others welcomed him. Jyme threw his hand up at the few faces he knew.

“Sales are up higher than last quarter, and we’re expecting an even more aggressive year next year,” Troy said. “We’re going to have some major changes, and all I can do is ask for you guys to be patient with us during this time. We’re shorthanded in every single department, and HR has gotten the green light to get us fully staffed again. So, if any of you know any reliable people you would trust with your own lives, please send them in, no matter their background.”

“Cricket, I need you to hire a staff of ten and make one of those tens your clone. After the ranting and raving I’ve heard all morning long about your performance last night in VIP, you’re going to need some serious back up. I have an idea in mind for you both that’s going to keep you tied together and extremely busy. You will need someone to be your right hand, and she will need to do business just like you
.
You have until the first to get your staff together. And Indian, since you’re here indefinitely, you’re going to have to be on the payroll. Cricket, get him down to HR, and you will set his pay since he will be working with you.”

Jyme and I nodded. I wasn’t shocked at all that Troy knew what went down in the club last night. He had camera’s everywhere and he saw everything. Whatever Troy didn’t see with his own eyes, he had someone somewhere watching for him. After the meeting, Troy handed me an envelope with two credit cards for any purchases I needed. Then, he told me and Jyme about his vision for us. He wanted us to be eye candy; and on special occasions, we were to let things get a little out of hand. He wanted us to put on a good show, and he said it was up to us how far we went. I thought about it and a calming came over me. I could still do my job and be faithful to Jyme. This was ideal, and I saw it as a small blessing. To make out with the man that I love, the father of child, my soul mate…who could ask for more than that?

Jyme and I went shopping for work clothes. My closet was full, but Jyme’s wasn’t. Since he was now employed with the casino, he would need a serious wardrobe. Once we got into the car, I opened the envelope to find $10,000. I showed Jyme, and he about shit himself.

“What the fuck, Cricket? All of that for a blow job?” he yelled over the radio.

I laughed, and then paused. “Hey, you don’t think my blow jobs are worth 10K?”

“Babe, your blow jobs are fuckin’ priceless. You can make a blind man see with the power of those jaws of yours.”

“Alright then.”

We stopped at a light, and I kissed Jyme. He kissed me back half-heartedly. He was too busy staring at the money in confusion. I pulled up at the bank and looked over at him. “Listen, you can do whatever you want with your money. But I have three different accounts set up at this bank. One is for Babe and her tuition at Nan’s. The second is backup money for whoever may have to take care of Babe just in case something happens to us. The third is road money; just in case I have to leave and or disappear.

He handed me the envelope. “I don’t want any of it.”

I kissed him quickly and then stepped out the car and went inside of the bank. I deposited everything into Babe’s account.

That night, Jyme and I had to get to work. We cruised the streets of LA looking for eye candy. Our first stop was a strip club called Plush. Korliss told us this club catered to the fuller size girls. We needed at least three or four bigger girls to create what Troy wanted. When we got to the door, the bouncer looked me over twice and sized Jyme up.

“What are you looking for gorgeous?” he asked me.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Well, your pimp can’t come in here.”

“He’s not my pimp.”

He looked us over one more time then let us through. I was quite impressed with the ambiance. The inside was lit up very well; the lights were pink and the VIP sections were wall-to-wall sectionals. The club was packed, and there was already a show starting on stage. The stripper was a police officer with a glittery belt. Every time she slapped the belt down on the stage, a whipping sound echoed through the speakers and the crowd went wild.

Jyme ordered a coke, and I had a beer. We watched three different acts before the main event sirens went off. The men started running to the crowded stage. All of the house lights went out, and the stage lit up. The announcer hyped up the men and then announced the dancer; Aston Martin. A woman wearing a black raincoat, a black rain hat, and black stilettos was holding a clear umbrella. She stood in the middle of the stage with her head down. Rihanna’s song
Umbrella
started playing through the speakers, and then the magic started. A splash of water doused the stripper and her raincoat seemed to melt away. She wore a pair of sparkly, silver thongs, and that was all. Her perfect breasts were exposed. She jumped up on the pole and slid down sideways. Back up on the pole again, this time descending upside down. I was amazed that her hat never came off.

Another dash of water splashed on her and the thongs seemed to melt away. Now she wore only a small raindrop patch covering her Pikachu. She turned around, and I saw what all the fuss was about. Ole girl had a face like Halle Berry, but an ass like Nicki Minaj; and it was jiggling like jello. The men went bananas in the club, and I have to admit I was a little excited myself.

She then used the pole as her wall as she centipeded down the pole. She went toward the edge of the stage toward all the men and all their money. This chick had a grace about her. Her show wasn’t like the others, and I could see why. She was extra thick in all the right places, and she knew how to work it. When her show was over, the men moaned, and a few of them left the club.

I called one of the servers to the table and told her I wanted a private dance with Aston for my boyfriend. She bent down a little closer to me and said it would be a two thousand for Aston. I agreed, and she guided us to one of the private rooms. I told Jyme to sit in the middle of the couch, and explained that I needed to see her technique.

“What do I do?” he asked.

“Do whatever your body tells you to do.”

“Cricket, I’m not fuckin’ touching her.”

“You better. We have to find someone like me. And who knows my body and me better than you do.”

I pointed my pointy finger into his chest. I assured him I would be lurking in the shadows of VIP. A man came in and searched us both, collected the money, and then turned to me and asked if I was interested in a part-time gig at the club. I waved him away, and he shook his head, smiling back at me.

Aston came in wearing a black, see-through robe. She wore her hair curly now instead of the bone straight look she wore on the stage. She had on a leather teddy. She started grinding on Jyme, but her eyes never left mine. Jyme looked so nervous; he honestly didn’t know how to take all of this. She slid her teddy off—bit by bit; it seemed to have been glued to her skin, and with a little tugging it peeled off into her hands. She was now down to her birthday suit and beckoned me to come join them. I spread my legs wide, and she came over to me, leaving Jyme in all of his state. He stifled a laugh. Aston stood in front of me, and then her hands went directly under my skirt. Aston was caressing Juicy, and then it hit me. Aston had been dancing on Jyme for at least a good ten minutes, and she had never touched his Anaconda. Aston wasn’t into guys…she favored the ladies.

I grabbed both of her hands and yanked her close to me. “Go play with yourself over there so we can both see.”

Aston went to the sectional between me and Jyme and went to town on her Pikachu. I went to sit in Jyme’s lap, and he was rock hard.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be. She’s fuckin’ hot.”

“She’s not hotter than you.”

I kissed him, but made a show of it. Aston was getting very excited. She moaned, groaned, and then yelled from her orgasm. Jyme and I both watched her come unglued and then slowly put herself back together again.

She came back over to us and asked me what my name was. I told her, then I introduced her to Jyme, but her eyes never left mine. She stared at me, and I knew it was now or never. “I have a proposition for you.”

She cocked her head at me and smiled wide.

“What if I told you I could double what you make here a night?”

“I’d say, bullshit.”

I stood, and Jyme stood beside me, “Alright then.”

I turned around and Jyme took my hand into his. We both headed toward the door.

“Wait a sec,” she called out to us.

I walked back to her, and Jyme stayed where he stood. I stood in front of Aston, and she placed both hands on my ass and squeezed hard.

“Can I have you?” she asked in a whisper.

I looked over at Jyme, and he was boiling from rage. He had just realized what I knew minutes ago about Aston. He shook his head slowly, and I turned back.

“He says, no, but I can guarantee you, I could have you something real sweet and warm every night.”

She watched me and squeezed my ass one more time. “But I want this.”

“You can’t have this. This belongs to him.”

I pulled both of her hands away and reached into my clutch, I pulled out a card with my number on it.

“Call me if you’re interested in a real job.”

I turned and went back to Jyme, who placed both of his hands on my ass and squeezed. They were having a pissing contest, and I had a strong feeling that Aston’s dick was metaphorically bigger than Jyme’s. I stood up on my tiptoes, letting my skirt rise a little and tongued Jyme as if I’d never tongued him before. I pulled away from the very excited Jyme and walked out the VIP door. Jyme pulled me up against him before we even made it to the car.

“Cricket, I want you now.”

“We can’t, baby.”

I looked around and the parking lot wasn’t full at all; and no one was outside. The strip club was down a long road with nothing around it, so it was safe to say no one would see us. I felt so bad for Jyme; he was using sex as his stress relief. I didn’t mind having sex with him, but this spur of the moment stuff was so far from his character, and it was making me more nervous than excited.

“Cricket, please.”

I looked down toward the side of building and saw a row of dumpsters. I guided Jyme to the side of the building, and we slid in between a couple of the dumpsters.

“This has to be quick,; do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He rushed out, panting harder than ever. I turned away from him, pulled my panties to the side, and let him in. I placed one of my hands on the side of the dumpster.