Page 12 of B.D.E
“TORI, STOP!” I yelled out. She was really being ridiculous and too damn invested in my life and who I gave my coochie too.
“No, I haven’t fucked anybody. Yes, he is fine as hell, but you know I’m in no rush to give up the goods. I want real love, not some bend me over fuck session and never talk again type shit.”
“Mm mm don’t threaten me with a good time hunny,” she smirked, sticking her tongue out.
“I’m not doing this with you right now,” I said, giggling.
Ghost most definitely had me hot and bothered since he’d showed up. It was everything about him for me—his voice, his eyes, the way he moved, even hurt, I could just tell that he was a force to be wreckened with. He had me second guessing everything I thought I wanted. The way he looked at me told me that he wanted to devour me, and the worst part was that I wanted him to, in the worst and best way. I knew better, though. I’d read about men like him that come into your life, make you fall in love, cause chaos and then leave you heartbroken—something that I wasn’t ready to experience, so I told myself tobe smart and keep my feelings locked tight, at least until he was gone. But even then…. I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out of this untouched.
“You’re being weird,” Tori said, studying me. “You always get all squirmy and weird when it’s some real shit.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, pot. I’m kettle.”
She grinned. “Touche, bitch. Anyway, I plan to date all these niggas until one of em’ decide to act right. Speaking of, I had a date last night with that chef dude, girl it was fucking horrible. The nigga had the nerve to order for me, and then when the food came, he chewed with his mouth open.”
“Ewwww,” I blurted.
“Then what put the fucking icing on the cake for me was the nigga didn’t believe in zodiac signs and refused to tip the waiter. Bitch, I skedaddled out of the restaurant so damn fast and had his number blocked and deleted by the time I left the parking lot.”
“But you did tip the waiter first though, right?” I questioned.
“Uh, no! I wasn’t paying for shit on no date with a nigga. I shot that waitress a sad face and kept it moving.”
I doubled over laughing at Tori. Like I said before, she was crazy and wild, but we meshed so well together. Tori was the sister I never had and never knew I needed. I knew that eventually I would have to tell her about Ghost because there was no way in hell, I’d be able to keep these feelings and crazy emotions to myself. I was thanking God that he hadn’t stepped out of the shadows again and blew my cover. Tori and I chatted for a little while longer before she left to get ready for her next date tonight, promising to call me after with the details. Listening to her love life or lack of was the only excitement I had outside of these walls. Well, until he appeared. Now I just had to make it through the next couple of days of him healing with my mind and virginity intact, I wasn’t sure if either was possible.
CHAPTER 8
Tori
Steam surroundedthe bathroom like smoke as I stepped out, tucking the towel under my arms. My skin was still slick with water, glistening under the soft light. My curls were piled on top of my head under a bonnet. I padded barefoot across the hardwood floors of my apartment, humming under my breath as I moved. My favorite slow jams playlist played low on my Bluetooth speaker, just enough to set the mood for tonight. I had about an hour to get ready, and I wasn’t about to rush from some man I hadn’t met yet. Maybe this one wouldn’t be a fucking flop like that last five. I was about ready to give up on these niggas and switch sides. The dating pool today was contaminated like a muthafucka and honestly, from what I’ve heard, the studs ain’t even studding so either way, I was screwed. I couldn’t get a decent man to save my life, and I couldn’t understand why. I was a young successful baddie that had my own everything at 25 years old and in this day and time that was major. I feel like most these niggas want a woman that needed them, and I was far from that.
BUZZ
My phone lit up on the counter, another message from Ivy. I smiled without even looking. That girl stayed checking in, like she was the big sister or something, when in reality, I was the one that used to braid her hair and teach her how to flirt with waiters for free food and shit in college. We were roommates back then with me being the loudmouth that did the most and she was this shy, introvert and bookworm who used to hide her lil erotic books under her textbooks like I didn’t know she was already reading some nasty shit. Now, she ran her little dream bookstore café with her vintage glasses and sweet smile, and I ran my own beauty bar uptown, specializing in facials, waxing and lashes. I was making good money and living life on my terms, and I loved that for me. I was twenty-seven, single and not the type to wait around for love. Not when I had goals to hit and orgasms to collect.
Ivy’s business was successful, despite what she’d gone through losing her parents, she still found a way to get up every day and move forward, keeping the promise she made to them. I just wished she would step out of her shell and try dating. No, a man isn’t needed, but it’s nice to vibe with someone on another level and of the opposite sex and I wanted that so bad for her. She was definitely hiding something these days, but whatever it was, I knew she’d come to me when she was ready. She always did. I was hoping—lowkey praying—that just maybe she was hiding some fine ass man that was turning her thick ass every which way but loose over there. Knowing Ivy, that was nowhere near true.
ME: Girl stop worrying me. I’ll text you after. Unless he’s corny as fuck with bad breath. Then, I’ll call with a mid-escape plan.
I typed a quick reply, then tossed my phone on the bed. Tonight wasn’t about finding love for me. It was about the vibes and letting my hair down, seeing if the universe wanted to throw a little spice my way, Lord knows I needed some. This honestly wasn’t even supposed to be a date, but I let one of my top clients get in my head. Carmen, the real estate baddie that never missed a lash appointment, had mentioned her cousin that owned some big shot real estate company and that he was single and ‘handsome.’ I told her that wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation, but she pulled up his Instagram right there in the treatment chair and I had to admit, she wasn’t lying. The nigga was fine as fuck.
His name was Marcus, and baby, that man looked… grown, grown. His body was built to the Gods, he had a clean, crispy cut like he’d just stepped out of the Steve Harvey’s barber chair and his face was smooth, with not a blemish in sight. His beard was perfectly lined up and I instantly had thoughts of rubbing my juices through it. She gave me his number and said, “Do with that what you will.” So, here I was, doing exactly that. I turned toward the mirror and dropped the towel, catching my reflection in the soft gold glow of my vanity lights. My skin shimmered from the cocoa shea butter I applied daily, leaving me with a deep brown, smooth and flawless glow that always hit different under the light. My waist dipped right where it should, my hips were full, and my ass was sitting up high and proud like it paid rent. Even in my late twenties, my breast was still defying gravity with a perky, soft look and a natural bounce that men lost their minds over.
I walked over to my dresser, pulling out the red mesh bralette and matching thong, and slipped them on slowly as I swayed my hips toEcstasyby Ciara. The dress I picked for tonight was black velvet—clingy but not too classy, with thin straps and a low back that gave just enough to have him drooling. I slipped it onand paired it with my red, strappy high heels that made my legs look like a whole meal. I pulled off my bonnet and fluffed out my curls, deciding to let them fall wild and free tonight. I threw on my gold hoops to complete my look, then swiped on some Fenty gloss and hit my neck and inner thighs with a few spritzes of YSL. Baby, I was ready for whatever the night had waiting on me. I checked the mirror one last time, then blew my fine ass a kiss.
“Let’s see what you working with tonight, Marcus.”
The young-looking valet boy tried hard as hell not to stare as I stepped out of my car, but I caught the way his eyes dropped, looking me over, then snapped back up, realizing that he’d been caught. After handing him my keys, I smirked and walked away, making sure to add a little switch to it since I knew I had an audience. Heads were turning left and right as I made my way to the entrance of Ember Lounge. Marcus had to have good taste and fat pockets because this lounge was top tier and expensive, might I add. Granted, I made good money with my business, but I would only come here on special occasions when I felt like it was ok to spend that kind of money, which wasn’t often.
Ember Lounge had this moody, grown and sexy vibe with low lighting, velvet booths, jazz laced under trap beats and bartenders who look like they should be modeling cologne ads.
If Marcus didn’t work out tonight, I would damn sure be taking one of them home.
I walked in like I owned the place with my head held high, hips swaying, not because I was trying to impress anybody but because that’s just how I walked when I knew I looked the fuck good. I scanned the room, eyes landing on the booth near theback. I could tell from the pictures I’d seen that it was him. I made my way towards the back, and he stood up to greet me.
First green flag.
Pictures did no justice for how fine this man was. He was tall, lean but not solid and he looked like he lifted weights for fun. His skin was this golden-brown texture and his beard nice and moisturized. He wore a slate-gray crewneck that stretched over his broad shoulders and when he shifted to look up, whew chile, his jawline could’ve been sculpted in stone. A thick AP watch hugged his wrist, one that I knew cost at least thirty thousand.
