Zane's the Heat Seekers Read online

  “I dunno about all this.”

  “What’s wrong? You don’t trust me?” Geren asked innocently.

  “Should I?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  Tempest scrutinized her recycled virginhood a little while longer before stating, “Well, okay then. I would like to take a shower, alone.”

  “Cool!” Geren replied, highly disappointed. He watched her get up off the sofa and head to the bathroom down the hall. Damn, how did she get all of that junk in her trunk? She’s finer than frog’s hair. “I’ll order some food to be delivered, since we never had that lunch.”

  “Wanna go dutch?” Tempest asked sarcastically, recalling their earlier conversation in his office.

  “Gurl, get on in there,” Geren chided, picking up the handset of his phone to call the soul food restaurant down the street. “There are plenty towels in the linen closet, and my robe is hanging on the back of the door.”

  • • •

  “That feels absolutely fantastic!” Tempest squealed at the top of her lungs.

  They were sitting out on Geren’s sun deck. It had a fantastic view of the Potomac River, and the lights were just coming on throughout the city at early dusk. Tempest still had on Geren’s thick, cotton robe and was stuffed to the brim with baby back ribs, collard greens, and potato salad. Geren was stunned by how much food Tempest had put away. He was just glad he’d ordered extra. He had planned on saving it for his Sunday dinner, but Tempest emptied all of the Styrofoam containers.

  “That’s it! That’s the spot!” Tempest exclaimed.

  Geren was washing her hair for her on his deck. He had her leaning back, and he was giving her a sensual shampoo with honeysuckle-scented shampoo and a pitcher of lukewarm water. Tempest had often dreamed of a man washing her hair, but it never happened. She also wanted a man to wash her feet in a river, like Allen Payne did to Jada Pinkett Smith in Jason’s Lyric. Geren was scoring mad brownie points.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Geren said, as he tenderly caressed her scalp. This was a new one for him, too, but he was enjoying every minute of it.

  “Oh, yeah! Harder! Harder!” Tempest yelled, blushing when she realized how sexual it sounded.

  Geren got a hard-on that could split bricks, wondering if she yelled out like that in the bed.

  He worked on her hair for a good hour, going back and forth into the house to get more water. On his fifty-eleventh trip, he returned to find Tempest fast asleep and snoring lightly in the deck chair. He picked her up and carried her inside, placing her gently on his bed. He sat down beside her and stared at her while she took sporadic breaths. He had never been so infatuated with a woman before in his entire life. Maybe she was the one.

  He debated about opening up the robe and taking a peek but decided against it. When and if Tempest wanted him to see her body, he wanted her to willingly show him everything.

  He got up off the bed and walked out into the hall, leaving the door slightly ajar. He went to go check on the clothes in the dryer and fell asleep on the sofa while listening to “International Lover” on repeat and fantasizing about Tempest.

  • • •

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Tempest awoke the next morning to find Geren standing over her.

  She was totally embarrassed for falling asleep like that while he was washing her hair. Then again, if his fingertips were so powerful, she could only imagine the potency of his dick.

  She glanced over on his dresser and spotted a tray packed full of goodies: croissants with butter, scrambled eggs, and smoked sausage. It smelled delightful. “Oh, my, you cook, too? You’re just full of surprises.”

  Geren laughed. He had felt compelled to cook after the way she tore up the food the night before. He didn’t want her to wake up starving. “The best are yet to come,” he replied, rubbing his fingers through her slightly damp hair. “You want me to blow it dry for you?”

  Tempest blushed. “You keep this up, and I might just fall helplessly in love with you.”

  Geren kissed her seductively on her forehead, allowing his lips to linger for a few seconds so he could take in her aroma. Forget the food! “That’s my game plan.”

  CHAPTER 10

  a night out on the town

  tempest and Geren met Dvontè and Janessa at the Samurai Restaurant in the Georgetown Park Mall the next Friday. Janessa and Tempest snickered and blushed like schoolgirls who hadn’t seen each other in a decade. Tempest was dying to fill Janessa in on the Rollerblading fiasco that had turned into a sensual shampoo and massage session, and Janessa was anxious to tell Tempest about the oral ecstasy Dvontè had been lavishing on her. He’d seriously improved since their first night together. He must’ve gotten used to her taste.

  They took off to the ladies’ room almost before everyone could speak casual greetings, leaving Geren and Dvontè in the entry area to wait for their table.

  “Gurl!” Tempest exclaimed as soon as the bathroom door swung closed behind them. “It’s time for a meeting in the ladies’ room! I’ve always wondered what that song meant, but now I see! I have so much to tell you!”

  “Tempest, you are not going to believe this!”

  “Hold up! Let me go first,” Tempest pleaded.

  “Aiight, go ahead but make it snappy,” Janessa demanded, wanting to spill her own gossip.

  “Well, for starters, Geren and I did go Rollerblading,” Tempest began.

  “Are you crazy? I thought you were going to fake a leg cramp or something.”

  “I couldn’t back down. Besides, Fred taught me a little bit.”

  “Fred is a dufus,” Janessa said brazenly, clucking her tongue. “I can’t believe your ass tried to perpetrate like that. What happened? Did you fall?”

  “Hell, yeah, I fell, and it hurt something horrible.” Janessa started laughing, and Tempest plucked her on the arm. “It’s not funny!”

  “Okay, sorry, sis,” Janessa said, trying to straighten up her face. “Go ahead.”

  “Anyway, I fell on my ass, and for the first time in my life, I wished I did have that buffalo butt you keep claiming I have. I could have used the padding.”

  Janessa fell out laughing again.

  “I thought I told you not to laugh.”

  “How can you expect me to stand here and listen to the crazy shit you say and not laugh?” Janessa looked in the mirror and toyed with the shoulder pads of the hunter green dress she had on. “I mean, come on, Tempest. Get real. You are so damn funny.”

  “N E Way,” Tempest continued, rolling her eyes. “Geren took me back to his place, and it’s the shit by the way. I’ll describe it to you later. He took me over there and gave me the bomb-ass massage.”

  “On your shoulders or your busted-up ass?”

  Tempest registered that thought, wondering why he didn’t offer to massage her ass. Maybe she should have asked, but that would have been hoochified. “Just my shoulders.”

  “Oh,” Janessa said, the disappointment apparent in her voice. “Is that it? I want to tell you what happened with Dvontè and me.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Tempest said mockingly. “Guess what? Geren washed my hair for me. Right there on his patio. He went and got a basin full of warm water and gave me the most sensual shampoo I have ever experienced. I wanted to jump his bones so bad.”

  “Did you? Jump his bones?” Tempest diverted her eyes to the mirror, grabbed a tissue out of the box on the counter, and started messing with her lipstick. “I take that as a no,” Janessa said. “You better come up off of that puddy before some other sistah does. As fine as Geren is, I’m sure he has mad women after him.”

  “If it is meant to be, it will be,” Tempest replied in a stony voice. She wanted to include some additional information but discarded the option. It was obvious Janessa was only intrigued by actual fuck tales, so she just settled for messing with the dramatic dolman sleeves of the white silk blouse she was sporting with black dress slacks. “So what’s up with Mr. Dvontè, or sho
uld I call him Mr. Playa?”

  “That comment was totally uncalled for!”

  “I’m sorry,” Tempest quickly and genuinely apologized. She didn’t know enough about Dvontè to cast judgment, so she had made an unsubstantiated comment about the brotha. “Tell me what happened.”

  Before Janessa could blurt out the first sentence, they heard the toilet flush in one of the stalls. They hadn’t realized that someone else was in there, and Tempest suddenly blushed with embarrassment about their overheard conversation.

  They both started primping in the wall-length mirror, trying to busy themselves until the other woman left so they could get back to gossiping. Both of their mouths flew open when they saw a six-foot-five man come out of the handicapped stall—with a floral dress on.

  Janessa looked at Tempest’s reflection in the mirror and saw her eyes bulge. Tempest started rifling through her purse, searching for her wide-toothed comb, and Janessa pretended to straighten up her bra. She looked down at the man’s feet when he came over to wash his hands and figured he had to be sporting at least a size-thirteen dress sandal.

  He was white with blue eyes and wore a blond, curly wig under a straw hat. Tempest almost busted out laughing when he pulled out his own tube of lipstick and expertly applied it in the mirror. He was standing in between them and startled them both when he spoke.

  “How you ladies doin’ tonight?” he drawled in a heavy Southern accent.

  Tempest was speechless.

  “We’re fine, and you?” Janessa replied.

  “Just fine. However, I’m ready to get my eat on,” he said coyly. “I’m starvin’!” Tempest and Janessa both fell silent, hoping he would get the hell out. He adjusted his bra, which was obviously stuffed with something, and headed toward the door. “Well, you ladies have a good one.”

  “You, too,” Tempest sputtered out.

  He was halfway out the door when he turned around and added, “By the way, that sensual massage/shampoo thing sounds like it’s the bomb, girl! You have a good man like that, you better keep him. I agree with your girlfriend. You need to give it up before he steps out on you. Hell, if I wasn’t already in love, I might go after him myself. He sounds like a winner.”

  Once he was gone, Janessa fell up against one of the stall doors, bent over in laughter. “Oh, my goodness, did you see that shit?”

  Tempest chuckled, “How could I miss it? Did you hear what he said to me?”

  “Hell, yeah, that was too damn funny!”

  “See, that’s why I always keep my homie-sexual radar activated.” Tempest cackled. “That dude probably wears suits to work every day and then does his freaky shit at night. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s married with two or three kids.”

  “Shame on it!” Janessa exclaimed. “I can’t even talk about Dvontè right now. I’m just too through after this shit!”

  Tempest was glad; she didn’t feel like hearing about Dvontè any damn way. “Let’s go on out, then. Maybe our table is ready by now.”

  “Cool with me,” Janessa replied, and they headed out the door.

  • • •

  Geren was growing impatient with the service at the restaurant. He’d called ahead to make reservations, and the delay in being seated was unacceptable.

  “I’ll be back,” he said, glancing at Dvontè. “I’m going to see what’s up with the table.”

  Dvontè grabbed him by the elbow. “What’s the big hurry? The women are still in the bathroom anyway. Probably talking about us.”

  Geren chuckled. “You’re probably right. Women are a trip.”

  “I can’t believe I let you drag me out here, man,” Dvontè complained, loosening up his tie.

  “I didn’t drag you anywhere,” Geren countered. “I simply suggested we take the ladies out on a double date, since they’re best friends and so are we. It makes sense for all of us to hang out together on occasion.”

  “Hang out? Man, the only hanging out I’m trying to do with Janessa is in the bedroom. I did that wedding gig, but that was to get the drawers. Now that I have them, I shouldn’t have to pay to play.”

  “You’re one sick cookie, Dvontè,” Geren proclaimed, trying to figure him out. “You mean to tell me you weren’t planning on taking Janessa out anywhere?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Janessa is just a booty service, pure and simple. I’m not even trying to do that relationship thing.”

  “Does she know that?”

  Dvontè waved Geren off with his hand when he saw the women approaching. “Whatever, man. I’m here tonight, aren’t I?”

  With that said, they both threw on strained smiles and joined in casual conversation with the ladies until their table was ready.

  • • •

  During dinner, Tempest and Janessa filled the men in on what happened in the bathroom. They searched the restaurant for the Amazon man so they could point him out, but couldn’t find him among the crowd. They were dying to see who or what he was having dinner with.

  The Japanese chef prepared their meals for them on the steamer table, and Janessa was mesmerized with the way he threw the knives in the air and chopped up everything with such precision. Geren and Dvontè both had steak with vegetables, and the women had shrimp with vegetables.

  Dvontè almost got sick to his stomach watching Geren cater to Tempest’s every whim like she was the Queen of Sheba. Geren even fed her and wiped the corners of her mouth when some of the green tea trickled out the corners. How disgusting, Dvontè said to himself. Another good brotha bites the dust. He’s already whipped, and she probably hasn’t even given up the ass yet!

  They left the restaurant and decided to walk around Georgetown for a little while. Janessa tried to cuddle up with Dvontè by looping her arm through his like Tempest had done with Geren, but Dvontè wasn’t even having it. He didn’t want to risk one of his other honies spotting him in an affectionate embrace. If they were just walking side by side, he could always play that one off and say Janessa was his cousin or some shit if questioned about it later on. He knew women were gullible, and he loved toying with their minds. He glanced over at Janessa, thinking she would do nicely as the freak of the week until she started expecting too much out of him.

  Tempest almost tripped over a crack on the sidewalk when she spotted the Pleasure Palace on Wisconsin Avenue. “Wow, I’ve always wanted to go in there,” she squealed with delight.

  Janessa snickered. “Me, too. I know a lot of sistahs that spend mad dollars up in that store.”

  Geren and Dvontè exchanged glances, giving each other the expression meaning this-might-turn-out-to-be-a-freaky-night-after-all.

  “Well, let’s not stand out here peeking in the window. Let’s go on in,” Dvontè eagerly suggested, grabbing the door and holding it open for the rest of them.

  Once inside, Tempest’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Dang, look at all this wild stuff!” She giggled with delight. She picked up a satin case, opened it, and took out two silver balls. “Wow, Ben Wa balls!”

  “What are those for?” Geren asked with piqued interest. Janessa and Dvontè had disappeared in the back of the store where all the S & M gadgets were located.

  Tempest looked up at him innocently. “How the hell should I know?” She placed them back on the shelf and walked away, trying to hide the grin on her face. She knew exactly what they were for. In fact, she had a pair safely tucked away in her lingerie drawer. She wasn’t ready to reveal her sexual prowess to Geren just yet. It was always good to keep a man guessing for as long as possible.

  Tempest began to feel uncomfortable with Geren lurking over her shoulder. She was dying to buy some items that caught her eye; especially this book called The Sex Chronicles by some sistah named Zane. Several of the sexually active women at the gym where she worked out swore it should be required reading for any woman trying to get her freak on.

  She almost creamed on herself when Geren picked up a pair of edible panties and inspected them. She could j
ust envision him eating them off her and wondered if he was sharing the same thought. “What are you planning on doing with those?” she asked him seductively.

  “Nothing you won’t let me do with them,” he replied, flashing his sexy grin. He held them up higher and pointed them toward the register. “Should I buy them?”

  Tempest immediately got nervous. What if he was expecting some booty once he took her home? “Naw, that won’t be necessary. Maybe some other time,” she commented.

  Geren chuckled and put them back on the shelf. “I was just joking. I told you I would never pressure you, and I meant it.”

  “I know,” Tempest said, walking closer to him and looping her arm around his. “Let’s go back here and see what Janessa and Dvontè are doing.”

  “Lawd only knows!” Geren laughed.

  Before they could get to the back of the store, Janessa and Dvontè were already headed in their direction, loaded down with items to purchase, including a pair of handcuffs, a leather mask with zippers over the places for the eyes, nose, and mouth, and a leather whip.

  “You are just so silly,” Tempest giggled, smacking her lips at Janessa.

  “No, I’m not,” Janessa protested. “Dvontè and I just decided to put a little spark in our already sexsational love life.”

  Tempest looked at Geren, who was shaking his head at Dvontè. Dvontè just smirked at him, took the items from Janessa, and went to go pay for them. Geren wondered how Dvontè could swing for all of the sex toys but be reluctant to even buy the sistah a decent meal.

  “Geren, can we head out now?” Tempest asked, pulling him even closer to her.

  “Sure, sweetheart.” He opened the door for her, and they said their quick good-byes to Janessa and Dvontè, who were so caught up in each other that they barely even noticed them leaving.

  Tempest was a nervous wreck the entire drive back to her apartment. Since Janessa and Dvontè were so openly sexually active, she thought, Geren would expect the same thing from her. He had utilized a bunch of sweet talk about being willing to wait and all that, but her history with men warned her that he was not that damn patient.