He’s got money
, I thought, eyeing the exotic sports car as I entered the passenger side. The softness of the leather was comforting, the interior isolated. The expensive watch on his wrist jangled as he screwed the cap on a bottle of Scotch. He hurriedly threw it into what passed for a backseat, seeming embarrassed by what I’d witnessed.
“Do you have a name?”
“Henry.”
“Thank you . . . again, Henry.”
“You’re welcome.” He gazed beyond the ruined jacket, admiring my damp breasts clinging to the black satin corset they were scrunched into.
“I probably ruined your night.”
“Let’s just say I had plans.” He broke off from his daze.
“Yeah. I can see.” My eyes rolled in the direction of the half-empty bottle.
He didn’t want to talk about it. “Want me to drop you off at the emergency room?”
“No. I’ll be fine. A little bump on my head’s not going to stop me.”
“Do you want a ride somewhere then?”
I would’ve expected a straitlaced someone like him to offer to call the police or something. To the contrary, he wanted away from here as much as I did. Fascinating.
“Sure.” I pointed seductively in the direction I would’ve been traveling if not for my mishap. I let my finger linger a second longer, as if the atmosphere were thick enough to play with. Truth be told, it was. “Drive.”
He started his car, briskly accelerating past the busted guardrail and what lay below. A faint, rising puff of smoke was a reminder of what I would have to deal with in the morning. Or rather, what Bianca would have to deal with. It was her car, after all.
Henry’s discomfort was evident as we entered Hunter’s Green, “across the track” from where a man like him probably lived. His eyes darted about nervously as a red light brought our journey to a temporary halt. I imagined him wanting to run it. At the corner, the convenience store encased in dark burglar bars was closing for the night. It was one of those kinds that sold singles, cigarettes busted out of the pack, beside lottery tickets and condoms.
“Are we close?” He was counting until his light turned green.
“No. Just keep driving. Do you have any music in here?”
“I’m not in a music mood tonight.”
“Okay. Suit yourself.” I removed his jacket, no longer able to tolerate the stench. A full view of my corset, the black stockings (one of them now ripped) attached to straps and garters, the formerly shiny black heels adorning my feet, gave him pause. His light turned green and he took off, but he was of split allegiances now: me and the road.
“I didn’t get your name.”
“I didn’t give it to you.” Did I even know it? My head throbbed, still hazy.
“Don’t you think you should? Or do you want me to make something up?”
“Pumpkin,” I answered whimsically. Clarity had arrived.
Henry’s lust was put on pause by my answer. He contained his chuckle as he immediately pulled the car over. He hit the switch on his door, unlocking mine with a click.
“Look,
Pumpkin
. Contrary to how it looks, I don’t have any money, so I think you got the wrong guy at most definitely the wrong time. This isn’t going to be your night.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a working girl, right?”
“No.” I hadn’t fully considered how it . . .
I
looked.
“Then where were you coming from?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just drive. Please.”
“And I know where we’re at. So, if you’re thinking about setting me up and jacking me around here—”
“Oh, because you got a gun, you’re all dangerous now?”
“Wha—”
“Yeah. I saw it when you pulled me out my car. I already told you. I ain’t no prostitute.”
“You’re speeding around in
someone’s
car late at night and you’re dressed like that. Now we’re in the middle of Hunter’s Green.”
“So?”
“So, I just thought . . .”
“You thought you were going to fuck me.”
“What?”
“I know when a man wants to fuck me. Your tongue’s been touching your shoes since I took off your jacket. Look, I’m not trying to jack you or hit you up for money. I just want to go home. Well, to my sister’s place. She lives in Coventry.”
“Coventry?” He knew the exclusive neighborhoodwe would eventually arrive at if he kept driving and quit talking. The sheer opposite of Hunter’s Green, Coventry was known for its renovated buildings from the city’s heyday with equally renovated money flooding in to claim it. Where crack pipes of the eighties had ruled, it was now hard to find a crack on the sidewalk. Bianca had so much going for her, but never really appreciated—or exploited—it.
I’d have to work on that.
“Yes,” I answered. “Where did you think I was going? Here?”
“Well . . .”
“Don’t answer that.”
“Look, I’m sorry about jumping to conclusions.”
“If I jumped to conclusions, I’d call you a drunk. Maybe suicidal, with that gun you’re packing. How would that feel?”
“It . . . it might feel right, Pumpkin. Shit’s really crazy for me.”
It was several miles out of Hunter’s Green before I spoke.
“Whatever you were thinking about doing . . . it’s not worth it.”
“Thinking?” He laughed. “You just don’t know. You’re acting like I’m not thinking about it anymore.”
“You’re not.”
“Why?”
My hands traipsed up my legs, like in that nurseryrhyme “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” one hypnotic step at a time across the fine mesh covering them. I undid a garter and rolled a stocking down my extended leg. When at my ankle, I brought my leg in and finished removing it. I took his hand, guiding his tensed knuckles against my bare inner thigh ever so lightly. “Because you’re thinking about this,” I answered.
“Uh-huh. Because you know when a man wants to fuck you?” A man attempting to be hard . . . um . . .
resistant
is a funny sight.
“
Wants?
Yes.” I moved him deeper, taking his fingers past the silk of my panties and into something softer and more inviting. I began guiding him in the ways of probing and pleasing me. In and out. In. And out. His fingers had a pulse of their own, gently writhing inside. I closed my eyes, sensations overwhelming me. “And I know when a man
is
. . . going . . . to.”
He stopped the car so suddenly, so violently, that I was startled. I shifted forward in my seat—tried moving, but Henry halted my progress. His hand was still doing as instructed.
Good boy.
“You’re right. I want some of that . . . bad. You’re making me crazy. Let’s get a room. Or go by my place.”
“Maybe . . .” Climax. “. . . another time.”
“No, no,” he protested, desperate to get his way. “Now.”
“Can’t.”
“Yes. You can.”
“We’re here.”
He followed my eyes to the five stories of pristine tan brick we were parked in front of. The top three floors were my temporary home. The doorman to my sister’s place had come outside, doing his job and braving the weather in his yellow windbreaker. Standing in the rain, he strained to make out our images. Henry’s car was meant to attract attention, just not at this time.
“Come with me.”
“Not tonight. My sister’s going to be waking up soon. And I’m going to have some explaining to do about her car.”
“Oh. Right.” He nervously removed his hand, his fingers damp with my essence. Shit. I was about to have him eat me out to no end.
“I’ll make it up to you.” Was it pity or gratitude for the rescue? I don’t know. I did know my promise would delay whatever rash agenda he’d been pursuing.
“Want me to come by and pick you up?”
“No. Better not.” The doorman inched closer. A damn fine stud he was. “Don’t need any more drama. My sister’s a prissy little princess, and her husband is a controlling dick.”
He laughed. “I used to work for one like that.”
“Don’t know how they’ll handle me being around.”
“I know how I would,” he said, his appetite already whetted.
“I gotta run,” I said, resisting the urge. I’d have time later. “Give me your number.”
I waved at the doorman as Henry located a pen and a piece of paper. He waved back, still unable to discern the car’s occupants. His caution abated, he returned to his post.
“Here.” He placed the number in my hand. When I looked at it, he stole a kiss. I ignored the alcohol and his brashness, giving in to his surprising passion.
His tongue filled my mouth while his hands wantonly went back to their goal. With no other clothes, it wouldn’t take long for him to have me totally naked.
I braced myself, giving me a moment to slow things. His kiss ended, he reverted back to form. “Aww, c’mon now!” he pleaded.
“Tomorrow,” I whispered before fleeing into the building. As the doorman granted me entry, I heard the roar of Henry’s car as it vanished into the night. The sentry was an amusing sight, admiring the car before realizing what he had before him.
“Um . . .” His eyes widened as two legs now claimed dominance over four wheels. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
He was cute. Real cute. “I’m fine,” I said, parading into a turn. “Can’t you tell?”
“No doubt,” he said, slipping into his regular vernacular the building paid him to forget in front of its residents. “Do you live here?”
“Yes. Third floor. And the fourth. And the fifth.”
He began choking as the realization overtook him. Probably feared losing the well-paying job. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize . . .”
“My sister,” I finished. “You’re thinking about my sister.”
“Oh.” He seemed more confused than ever. It didn’t hide the bulge in his ever-expanding khakis. Didn’t know they were made to do that.
“I know. Honest mistake. Different hair,” I said, shaking the damp out of the long strands. Bianca wishes she had this.
“Yeah,” he agreed with an unusual smile. “Eyes too.”
“You must
really
pay attention to Mrs. Coleman. Think she’s hot, huh?”
“Yeah,” he admitted with his phrase of the night. “I . . . I mean, no. Not like you.”
“You’re just saying that because it’s late and I’m all . . . wet.”
“Nah, I’m sayin’ that because you’re better than her. Much better.”
I dragged my weary body toward the elevator. “Now, that’s what I needed to hear. Good night.”
He was still watching me as I entered the golden doors. I paused before pushing the button to take me up. “What’s your name?”
“Ruben.” “Ma’am” was gone from his vocabulary now. He looked out into the night, wondering if anyone else would be returning late.
“Think you can keep quiet about all of this tonight?”
He licked his full lips. “Yeah.”
“Good.” I pushed the button to take me to the third floor. The doors responded, closing. Before they sealed completely, I pushed the button to stop them. As they reversed, Ruben sprang to attention.
“Ma’am?” he asked, not sure if formality was back in session.
I smiled seductively, leaning against the elevator’s railing. “Know how to eat pussy, Ruben?”