Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow Page 3
She got up and headed out. “What did you think about Dominic and Kay Kay?”
I shrugged as I reached for my lamp switch to cut it off. “What is there to think? You were just doing them, right? Or are you contemplating doing some kind of polyamorous nonsense?”
“I don’t even know what the fuck that is,” Winsome responded sarcastically.
“The Devil is a liar. You know exactly what it is.”
She grinned. “We were just doing it. They’re actually siblings, though.”
I stopped worrying about the lamp switch. “Siblings? That’s disgusting.”
“It wasn’t disgusting for me, and it’s not like they did anything together.”
“Didn’t they?”
“No, they did not. You didn’t see no shit like that going down. Both of them were doing me, but that’s it.”
I glared at Winsome like she was crazy. “You need to chill before you end up with some incurable disease and come crying on my shoulder.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll holler.”
Winsome closed the door and as I was reaching for the lamp switch again, I noticed a text message that must have come in during my shower. It was from Tevin.
JUST CHECKIN ON U TO MAKE SURE U GOT HOME
Damn, even surgeons are using text shorthand, I said to myself.
But it did make me blush and that was a feeling that was both unexpected and unwelcomed. There was no way that I was trying to catch feelings for him, but it was going to be a challenge unless I refused to ever see him again.
I opted not to respond to the text, cut off the light, and laid there in the dark struggling to fall asleep. I got maybe two hours total before I had to get up and head to school.
Chapter Four
“The giving of love is an education in itself.”
—Eleanor Roosevelt
All students, please report to your homerooms immediately.”
Lilibeth Parker was the school secretary. I am not sure why she felt the need to make that announcement every school day. There was not a single student in the entire high school that didn’t realize their asses needed to be in their respective homerooms by eight thirty-five AM or they’d be considered tardy.
“Lilibeth, did we ever get those test scores in?”
“No, not yet, Ms. Daniels. Do you want me to call the school board and check on them?”
I stood beside her desk, considering how I wanted to respond. “No, that’s okay. Hopefully, they’ll arrive by this afternoon. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“Gotcha.”
I went into my office, closed the door, sat down at my desk, and waited to see if any drama would start so early in the morning. I had instilled fear in the majority of my students by implementing a zero-bullshit tolerance policy and making examples out of people who tried to come for me before I came for them. I was among the youngest of principals in the DC Public Schools system and I was determined not to fail in the position that I had held for the past three years. That was why I was concerned about seeing the test scores; I didn’t want to appear to be in an all-out panic, though.
The federal No Child Left Behind Act had forced the DC Public Schools to comply with Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) rules or face major consequences. A lot of the schools failed miserably on a yearly basis. We had failed the first year that I was here, but I turned it around by threatening to put foot to ass with any of my teachers whom I felt had funky attitudes. I did not literally kick them, but I made it clear that heads would roll if they did not start assessing the students who were struggling and offer them additional assistance. I did not care when they did it—before school, during recess, or after school—but if they truly cared, it should not have been a big deal. Teachers customarily have a shorter workday than most and get summers off so it was what it was.
I was about to eat my vanilla crumb muffin and drink the coffee that I had purchased at a local organic market on my way to work when my cell phone rang. It was Tevin. This was going to be a test to gauge how he received being neglected via text messages. Honestly, he was about to get a piece of my mind.
I smirked and answered the phone. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Jemistry. It’s Tevin.”
I acted as if his number wasn’t already saved in my phone, rather less already embedded in my memory. “Oh, hey. I didn’t recognize the number. How are you?”
“I’m fine. I take it that you arrived home safely last night. I sent you a text.”
“Wow, did you? I didn’t see it. I’m not too hype on texting. It seems kind of detached and impersonal to me.”
He got quiet for a few seconds. “I see. Well, I wasn’t sure if I should call you that late. I didn’t want to risk waking you up.”
“Then your plan worked because I was sleeping like a baby.” I took a sip of my coffee. “But in theory, the chime from the text message could have woken me up as well.” My tone reeked of sarcasm. “I’m just saying.”
“True. Anyway, I’ll keep in mind that you are not a fan of text messages.”
“Let me ask you a question, Tevin. Before there was text messaging, how did you communicate with people who were not right in front of you? How did you let them know you were thinking about them? That they were special to you?”
“Well, I would call them like I’m doing right now.”
I played with my muffin, which looked and smelled delicious, but I didn’t dare put even a morsel in my mouth. I didn’t feel like we were at the point where I wanted to be eating on the phone while we spoke. That was kind of a trifling habit, but with my schedule, it was not unusual for me to engage in it.
“That’s how I would communicate,” he continued. “As for letting a person know that I am thinking about them, I would probably send them flowers with a card letting them know my sentiments.”
“I like flowers, so maybe I’ll receive some one day.”
“Maybe you will.”
Both of us got quiet, as though we were searching the caverns of our minds to come up with a topic. We had spoken for hours the night before, so it was quite awkward.
“I’d better go check and make sure the hallways are empty, except for security guards. Some of my students will do the most when they think they can get away with it.”
“You have a lot of students play hooky?”
I giggled. “Yeah, there are some usual suspects. Most will straighten up once I alert their parents and they get in trouble. The ones with parents who don’t care are a different issue.”
Lilibeth was knocking on my door.
“Come in!” I winced when I realized that I had screamed in Tevin’s ear. “Sorry for yelling.”
“It’s cool. I’ll let you go so you can go hold down the fort. I have some patient files to look over. My first surgery isn’t until around noon.”
“Sounds good.” I gasped when Lilibeth entered with a bouquet comprised of a few dozen roses and several clusters of baby’s breath. “Oh my goodness!”
“What happened? Is everything okay?” Tevin asked from the other end of the line.
I snickered and grinned from ear to ear. “My secretary just entered with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Thank you.”
Lilibeth set the vase down on my desk and handed me the card that was attached to a plastic stick.
“You’re assuming they’re from me?” he asked. “They could be from one of your other admirers.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re from you.” I blushed, even though he couldn’t see my face. “That was very sweet of you.”
“So am I forgiven about the texting?”
“Yes, you’re forgiven.”
Lilibeth smiled and left out as I opened the card. It read:
Jemistry,
I realize that we just met but I want to be “the example” of what a man should be instead of “another example” of what a man should never be. You are beautiful, smart, and entertaining and I hope to see you again.
xo
xoxo
Tevin
“These are wonderful. Thank you,” I repeated.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Can I see you again?”
I could tell that he was somewhere between anxious and nervous about my reply.
“Um, sure. I told you last night that we could hang out again.”
“I don’t want to hang with you. I want to court you. There is a difference.”
I sat there in silence for a moment. “Tevin, I agree that there’s a definite chemistry between us, but I don’t necessarily think that I’m relationship material right now. Do you not remember my poem from last night?”
“Yes, I remember your poem. I also remember the painful expression on your face as you recited it. I want to be the one to change that expression to something more exhilarating, more gratified, and more surreal.” He paused. “And while I definitely agree that there is chemistry, I see more than that. I see a possibility.”
Dammit, this man is about to take my breath away! I thought to myself. Then that thought was immediately followed by fear . . . the fear of being hurt again. Tevin’s word game was tight, but I had been hoodwinked by the crème de la crème of slick talkers before.
When I didn’t say anything, he added, “But we can take things slow. How about dinner tonight?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what you call taking it slow?”
“That’s what I call breaking bread together and continuing to get to know each other. You can pick the spot.”
“No, you pick it this time,” I insisted. “Your choice of restaurant will tell me something about you.”
“Hmm, the only thing that it might tell you is that I like good food. How about The Oceanaire Seafood Room on F and Twelfth Streets about seven thirty? Ever been there?”
“Not yet, but I’ve heard nothing but great things about it. Count me in.”
* * *
For the rest of the school day, I felt like I was hiking on air. There was something about the man that turned me on. However, I didn’t want to risk actually falling for him so I did the one thing that any confused woman attempting to avoid falling in love would do: I went over to Anthony’s place after work and fucked the shit out of him.
Chapter Five
“You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back.”
—Barbara De Angelis
Where have you been?” Anthony asked the second he opened the front door to his house.
“I don’t have to report to you.” I entered, kicked off my brown leather pumps, and let my tan suit jacket fall to the floor. “We’re friends with benefits, remember?”
As I walked straight upstairs to his bedroom, he shut the door and followed me. “I understand all that. Friends with benefits, cuddle buddies, whatever. But does that mean we can’t socialize outside of my bedroom?”
“What the hell do you want to socialize for, Anthony?” I stood in front of his bed and started removing all of my clothing. “We start socializing and you might catch feelings, or I might catch feelings, and then that fucks up the entire arrangement.”
He crossed his arms in rebelliousness, but as soon as I took my bra and panties off, his eyes were glued to my body.
“I don’t like the term arrangement. You make it sound like I’m a male escort or something.”
“The only thing that I want you to escort me to is a hellified climax so I can hop in the shower and keep my dinner appointment.”
“Appointment or date?” he asked vehemently.
I smacked my lips and didn’t bother to respond.
Anthony was about five-nine, much shorter than Tevin, had a few extra pounds on the belly, light-skinned with a bald head, and a gorgeous smile. We had met about a year before in the produce section of Shoppers Food Warehouse. Before I actually picked up a man in a grocery store, I always believed that it being a hot spot was nothing more than an urban legend, or a marketing ploy for certain major chains. But there he was, grinning at me as I selected some limes to make a homemade key lime pie.
I had made it clear to him from the beginning that I was not interested in dating him. But we did hang out—movies, dinner, walks in the park—until it came time for me to cut the bullshit and confiscate the dick. I made sure that we were both tested for every STD known to man before we actually did anything. He bitched about it at first, but when I informed him that getting tested meant the possibility of one day fucking me and not getting tested meant that he might as well lose my number, he got the tests done.
“Are you going to stand over there staring at me, or are you going to come over here and commence to fucking?” I asked and then turned around, making a show of exposing my entire caramel ass as I climbed on top of his bed. “I love the way that you hit all of this from the back. My pussy is in distress. Please . . . put it out of its misery.”
I could hear him approaching behind me, removing his wife beater and shorts along the way. “This is the last time I’m doing this, Jemistry.”
“That’s what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.” I turned over, lay on my back, spread my legs, and started playing in my pussy with my fingers. “See how juicy Abigail is?”
Anthony laughed. “You and your dumbass nicknames for your pussy. Every time you come through, you name her something different. Who the fuck is Abigail?”
“Abigail Adams, wife of the second president of the United States, John Adams. Mother of John Quincy Adams, the sixth president of the United States. Mother of six, and if I want to call my cooter Abigail, then you need to shut the fuck up about it.”
“You’re so mean, but you’re smart. I love your bedroom trivia facts.” Anthony climbed on top of me, butt-ass naked, and started sucking on my breasts. “And I love these.”
I glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It was already five.
“Where are the condoms?” I asked. “That’s enough foreplay.”
Anthony sat up on his elbow and stared at me. “Listen, this is getting kind of old for me.”
I gazed into his eyes and then down at his rock-hard, eight-inch dick with a five-inch circumference. Yeah, I had measured that billy with a tape measure before. “Doesn’t look like Marcus Junius Brutus is getting tired of fucking me.”
Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not even going to ask.”
“Marcus Junius Brutus? The Roman politician and traitor who conspired to kill Julius Caesar and then later committed suicide.” I grabbed hold of his dick and started giving him a hand job. Pre-cum was already leaking from the head. “Yes, your dick has betrayed you. You may want to holler at him about that after I leave for dinner.”
“Do you have a dinner appointment or a dinner date?”
Oh, hell to the no! You’re going to question me?
“Since you feel the need to keep asking the same irrelevant question, I’ll simply say that it’s the same thing.”
“No, it is not the same thing. I’ll bet you have a date. You want to fuck me but date someone else? That’s some crazy-ass shit. I’ve always been good to you, Jemistry. At least I’ve tried. You’re the one who insisted on making this all about fucking.”
I sighed. “Anthony, not to offend, but you’re beginning to sound like a side chick. You need to stay in your lane and continue to accept the role you signed up for. We agreed to be fuck buddies. So when I’m horny, I come over here to fuck you.”
He sighed like he was mad, but the Negro was fingering my pussy at the same time. He was weak for my snapper and he understood it.
“I don’t disrespect you, or come over here unannounced,” I continued. “I already told you. When and if you meet a woman you want to commit to, simply tell me, and it’s over. I’ll go cold turkey off your dick. Now do you want me to leave or are you going to break out the condoms so we can have a party?”
Anthony got a condom out of his nightstand and ripped it open with his teeth. I put it on wi
th my mouth and sucked him off for a few moments. Winsome was wrong. I did suck dick with condoms but she was right about the dental dam thing. There was no way that I was serving up pussy through plastic.
I sucked on him until he was about to explode in the condom and then stopped. “Lie down on the bed,” I ordered.
“I thought you wanted me to hit it from the back,” he said.
“Just do what the fuck I say!”
He laughed. “Look at you, trying to go gangster.”
“I am gangster.” I pushed him down on the bed. “You’re moving too damn slow.”
“What you gonna do? Ride this dick?”
“Yeah, I’m going to ride it until you bust wide open like my little bitch. Now spread your fucking legs.”
Anthony looked shocked. “Spread my legs?”
“Just do it!”
I picked up his left leg and tossed it to the side. Then I climbed on top of him, put my left leg between his legs behind me and placed my right leg on the outside of his right arm with my foot up by his head. Then I went to town on the dick and got my workout on at the same time.
Anthony started panting, gasping, and sweating.
“You like this pussy?” I asked. “Tell me how much you love this pussy!”
“Oh, yeah. I love it,” he managed to get out between trying to navigate my hips up and down and lift his bottom half to pound up into me. “You love this dick?”
I didn’t respond, fucking with his ego.
“You love this dick?” he asked again.
“Hmm, it’s mediocre,” I finally said. “You’re still a rookie in training, but you’re improving.”
He laughed. “I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you after I get this nut out.”
“You’d better not bust too quick or that’s your ass!”
“You talk more shit than—”
Anthony couldn’t even get the remainder of his sentence out because I started grinding and pounding harder on his dick at the same time while I dug my nails into his chest. I caught my rhythm and he completely lost it then.