Unmasking Charlotte
a Taboo Love series (book #2)
By:
M.D. Saperstein
and
Andria Large
Copyright © 2014 by Philly Coconuts, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Except for the original material written by the author(s), all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in this novel are the property of the
respective songwriters and copyright holders.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book or any portion thereof may
not be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or used in any manner whatsoever, via the Internet, electronic, or print, without the express
written permission of the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information, or information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the authors:
OR
https://www.facebook.com/MdSapersteinAuthor
OR
Andria Large at:
https://www.facebook.com/AndriaLargeAuthor
OR
Our joint page at:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorsSapersteinLarge
Edited by: Megan Hershenson
Cover Design by: Andria Large
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, March 2014
ISBN: 978-1496166487
Acknowledgements
M.D Saperstein
To my husband and kids – You are my everything. Thank you for all of your love and support.
Without you, I would not have had the courage to write. And thank you for not making fun of me all of
those times I had conversations with the characters in my head!
To my parents – Thank you so much for all of your encouragement. I know that you would rather I
was writing legal briefs, not about men’s boxer briefs. I appreciate all of your input. I love you both
very much!
To Andria Large – The best friend and writing partner a girl could ask for. You are the yin to
my yang, and I am so grateful that you have come into my life. And not just because your mind is as
dirty as mine.
To Donna – Thank you so much for being my sounding board. Your advice and opinions have
not fallen on deaf ears. I know how difficult it was to dedicate the time and I am beyond
appreciative…bitch. I had to throw that out there because it was getting way too mushy.
To Lynne - My favorite bawbag from across the pond. Thank you for your optimism and
laughter. You have put out plenty of nervous fires. I always smile when I see a message from you in
my inbox. Pimp me out, lady!
To the best editor in the world, Megan Hershenson. Thank you for keeping me on my toes. I am
nothing if not consistently grammatically correct. Your control freakery knows no bounds!
And to all of the friends, family, bloggers, and fans – Thank you so much for supporting us,
leaving glowing reviews, and having our backs.
Acknowledgements
Andria Large
To my husband – Thank you for being supportive of me and my endeavors. I would definitely not be where I am today, if not for
you. I know it can be irritating at times when I’m writing instead of cleaning the house, so thank you for putting up with me. Maybe one
day I will make enough money and we will be able to afford to hire someone to do it for me. Also, thank you for helping me “research,”
it definitely comes in handy. I love you!
To my girls – I know you are too young to even understand what I’m doing, but I hope that someday when you find out that your
mom is writing smutty romance novels, you won’t be embarrassed. I hadn’t planned this, it kind of just happened. I love it, though, and I
hope that when you two grow up that you will find a job that you love to do, too.
To M.D. Saperstein – I never thought that when you in-boxed me almost a year ago that we would be where we are today. You
have become one of my best friends and confidants. It sucks that we live so far away from each other; it doesn’t matter, though,
because when you find someone who has the same goofy and dirty humor as you do, then you can be friends no matter what state you
live in. This book never would have happened without you. You have no idea just how great of a writer you really are. I can’t wait to
write more books with you!
To Megan Hershenson – You are the best editor ever. Thank you for putting up with my horrible grammar and punctuation. My
books would definitely not be doing as well as they are without you. Thanks for being anal-retentive. You da shit!
Of course, I cannot forget one of the best beta readers, Sara! Thanks so much for your time, honesty and constructive criticism.
Blurb
They say that once you go black, you never go back. I am not completely sure who "they" are, but
they obviously never met me. I guess that maybe I am an exception to the rule. I went black, and then I
went back.
Maybe that sounds cynical. Maybe that sounds flippant. Maybe that even sounds racist. But I am
none of those things. I am just a realist, who through an unfortunate turn of events, learned the hard
way that everything is in fact black or white. At least for me it is, and always will be.
But then there is Calvin King. The thorn in my side, the pain in my ass. He is what some would
call the perfect man - an imposing businessman, an even more impressive ladies’ man. Every man
wants to be him and every woman just wants him. At least that is what I hear. I’m not admitting to
anything beyond that.
What I do know and will concede to, is that my resolve is tested as soon as I meet Calvin. He
ticks every box off my checklist - sexy as sin, tall, dark, rich, intelligent, funny, and...Black. My body
craves just the thought of him. How can I possibly keep him at arm’s length when he is the only man I
want and desire? And it doesn’t help that he kisses like a god and sets my body on fire. Crap! Don’t
ask me how I know that, he doesn’t play fair.
Most importantly, I can’t let him unmask me, it’s my only defense. Like I told you before, I
already went black, and I am so not going back.
Unmasking Charlotte is book 2 of the Taboo Love series and picks up where Hey There, Delilah
left off. For this taboo, we tackle interracial relationships. As with Hey There, Delilah, it is a
standalone - so don’t worry if you haven’t read Hey There, Delilah, yet - with a HEA. That means no
cliffhanger! Oh, and expect to see some of your favorite characters.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Charlotte
They say that once you go black, you never go back. I am not completely sure who "they" are, but
they obviously never met me. I guess that maybe I am an exception to the rule. I went black, and then I
went back.
Maybe that sounds cynical. Maybe that sounds flippant. Maybe that even sounds racist. But I
am none of those things. I am just a realist, who through an unfortunate turn of events, learned the
hard way that everything is in fact black or white. At least for me it is, and always will be.
I have nothing against interracial relationships or marriages, and I think the result, a biracial
child, is generally very beautiful - their skin a striking caramel tone, eyes that sparkle in the light,
silken black hair, and a positive appetite for life. In fact, my half-brother is a product of an
interracial marriage. Like I said, I am all for it…as long as I am not all in it.
Let me explain.
I was born in 1985, in a small town in Middle America. The Bible belt, actually. Okay, before I
continue, let’s get a few more things out of the way.
Yes, I realize being born in 1985 makes me twenty-eight, which means I am staring thirty in the
face. I am not married, but I am not a spinster. Well, maybe technically I am, but I don’t like that
word, so don’t call me one. I do not have kids but I am not a barren old hag. I do not work in my
chosen profession, but I am not a lazy good for nothing 80s child who expects everything to be handed
to me. I work hard for everything I have, and am not ashamed of what I do. My dream moving out to
the City was to be an actress on Broadway, but apparently it’s not an easy field to break into, theater
degree or not. Besides, being the personal assistant to the top talent agent – Eddie Dugan – at the top
talent agency in New York City, has its own benefits. Oh, and I am not a chicken head, crack whore,
or heroin junkie. So don’t judge me until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes. They may not be
Louboutins, but they still get me to where I need to go, and I still look hot getting there.
And yes, I realize that although I am originally from the Bible belt, I no longer live there, which
means that even though I curse like a sailor and screw like one, I don’t believe I am going to hell for
it. I am not the typical woman who equates sex with love. I don’t develop feelings through my
vagina. I don’t spend the night or get attached. I am not clingy and I don’t expect him to call me the
next morning. I guess that makes me more like a guy. I am not commitment phobic per se, but let’s
just say I have yet to find the one man who’s man enough to make me want to spend the rest of my life
with him.
I say it like it is, I will always tell you the truth, and I don’t mince words. You don’t have to
worry about me talking shit behind your back because I will always say it to your face. And I am
loyal to a fault. But cross my family, my best friend, Delilah, or me, and you had better watch your
back. Accept me for who I am, or move on. I share my mantra with Popeye, “I yam what I yam…” and
if you don’t like it, beat street.
But I digress.
Like I was saying, I was born in a small town in Middle America. My parents married later in
life, at least what would be considered later for their generation, and for being devout Christians. My
mom was twenty-eight (yes, the same age as I am now), and my dad was thirty. My mom was a nurse
at the local hospital and my dad was a paramedic. That’s how they met. Nine months after they
married, I was born. She calls me her honeymoon baby.
At my first birthday party, my dad and his partner, Bron Fisher, were technically still on duty, so
when a call came in requiring assistance at a crime scene, they had to go. That was the last time that I
ever saw my dad alive. Apparently, they were called out to a hostage situation and the suspect opened
fire on the police and EMS – firefighters and paramedics – and my dad took one in the chest. Bron
was also shot, in the stomach, when he dove in front of my dad trying to shield him, but the doctors
were able to save him. Thank god. That was the first time he was my hero, but certainly not the last.
My mom was devastated. With a one year old at home, no other family, and no income - except
my dad’s life insurance - she struggled from day to day. I wasn’t old enough to understand back then,
but as the years went by, I saw how the worry aged her. I also started to notice that Bron was coming
over every day. He was helping me with my homework, he was making dinner, and he was tucking
me in at night. He was also making my mom laugh, making her smile, and easing her pain. Coming
to our aid, a hero once again.
It wasn’t until I was six or seven that I realized my mom and Bron were actually “together.” You
would think him moving in with us would have been obvious enough. Since he was pretty much the
only father figure I had ever known, it felt completely natural. When I turned eight was when the shit
hit the fan, the first time.
I came home from school like any other day, only this time when I arrived home, there were eggs
smashed against our front door and all over Bron’s car. Spanning across the garage was graffiti
saying disgusting and hurtful things, all meaning the same thing. “Our kind” was no longer welcome
in this neighborhood. I had no idea what this meant at the time. If I would have known then what I
know now, I would have kicked the asses of each and every one of those punk ass cowards myself.
My mom and Bron were in the house packing up. I was completely confused, but never asked
questions, just did as I was told. With the moving truck packed to the brim, and Bron’s car strapped
to the trailer, we headed east. Conveniently, that’s when they clued me in on the fact that they had
married in the courthouse earlier that morning - Bron was now my stepfather - and I had a baby
brother due to arrive in a few months. Bron named him Tommy, after my father, Thomas Miller. No
wonder my mom had been so happy. Living up to his hero status yet again.
And so about twelve hours later, we arrived in Harlem, New York, my home for the next six or
so years. My parents chose Harlem because that’s where all of Bron’s family lived. We went from
zero relatives to being able to form our own sports team over night. My mom was able to get a
nursing job at the local hospital within weeks, and Bron was back driving an ambulance. Oh, and
with my permission, and exuberance, Bron officially adopted me. My only condition was that I kept
my father’s last name – the only thing left I had of his.
All seemed right with the world again. My mom was happy, Bron was happy, and I couldn’t
have asked for a more wonderful family, or better place to live. Or could I?
Calvin
My father is a lawyer, my grandfather is a lawyer, my sister is a lawyer, my mother is a…
doctor…thought I was going to say lawyer again, didn’t ya? And I, Calvin King III, own a sex club!
Okay, not necessarily a sex club, in as much as the hottest, trendiest, most exclusive club in New
York City, which happens to allow consensual sexual activity amongst pre-screened and highly
scrutinized professional adults – Club Masquerade.
First, let’s get all of the jokes and stereotypes out of the way. No, I am not a Cosby kid. Yes, I
speak proper English, and no, that doesn’t make me a wanna-be white boy. No, I wasn’t born with a
silver spoon in my mouth, nor am I a trust fund baby. And yes, I am the “black” sheep of the family.
Pun intended. I can kick it with my homies or do tea with the Queen, and would be comfortable in
both scenes. I don’t do drugs, drink excessively, or eat fried chicken and collard greens for dinner
every night. Although, there is nothing wrong with that, it is delicious.
I consider myself to be laid back and care free until I am not. It takes a lot to get me there, but
once I am there, shit you not, back the fuck away. Oh, and I curse… a lot…unless I am in the company
of children or a female who is offended by it. I take my cues from her. I don’t do drama. Period. So
keep that juvenile shit away from me. One other big thing you should know about me? I NEVER,
ever, pull the race card.
I was supposed to be a lawyer just like the rest of them. In fact, I did go to law school. That’s
where I met my two buddies, Nick and Parker – who both graduated with honors. But clearly, I
wasn’t cut out for law school, so I bucked the system and decided to take my own path. And those two
meatheads won’t let me forget. Not that either are complaining since they take advantage of Club M
every chance they get. Well, maybe not Nick. Not anymore. Since he hooked up with that little bit,
Delilah, she has had him by the balls, owning his ass. I like to give him shit about it, but don’t for one
second think that if I had my chance with a woman as great as Delilah, I wouldn’t take my shot.
Unlike those two knuckleheads, I have been searching for my perfect fit. I guess having parents who
have been happily married for over thirty years will give you the confidence that monogamy, with the
right partner, can work.
Don’t get me wrong, I love women – tall, short, fat, thin, white, black. Doesn’t matter to me. I
flirt like it’s no one’s business and love the thrill of knowing I make women feel beautiful. It’s not
about the conquest for me. I don’t have a bedpost that needs to be notched. In fact, I am not the player
my friends dub me to be.
To be honest, I have never hooked up with any of the women at my club. Never even been
interested. Shocking, I know, but it takes a lot to catch my attention, and all of those ladies look the
same to me. Plus, they are all there for the same thing: hot sweaty sex or snag a rich sugar daddy. I
want neither. I can get my own pussy, don’t need to dip into that well.
Don’t take all of this honest mushy shit wrong now. Because I am anything but soft. When I have
that right woman beneath me, she will always feel cherished and safe, but she will also know that I
am the man, and that I am in control. With everything. When I have that right woman, laid-back, cool-
as-a-cucumber Calvin no longer exists; alpha Calvin rears his control hungry, over protective, you
are mine, head.
Now that you know my current situation, I am sure you are asking how I ended up here, and not a
partner at King, King & King. Let’s back the fuck up a few or thirty years.
I was born in Harlem, New York, thirty years ago. My father was in law school and my mom
stayed home with me. My sister, Carla, was born two years later. Once we were both in elementary
school, my mother started medical school. She went mostly at night and took a little longer to
graduate, but she was fine with that, knowing that raising her kids was the top priority.
I remember always wanting to go into work with my dad. He started out interning at my
grandfather’s firm straight out of law school, waiting to pass the Bar. We had a big party the night he
got his results. I remember how proud my mom and grandparents were of him. I couldn’t wait for
them to feel that way toward me when I graduated from law school. I guess even as a kid it was my
dream to follow in their footsteps. To be the third King on the letterhead.
When I was eighteen and my sister was sixteen, my views of the law, justice system, and my
father changed dramatically. When he passed the Bar, he worked for a few more years with my
grandfather gaining experience, but ultimately decided that he wanted to be a state prosecutor. Living
in Harlem, we saw so much poverty and crime that my dad thought the best way he could help would
be to get the criminals off the street. For the most part, he loved his job. Until that day. The day that
is still etched into my mind. The day that horrified me to the point that to this date, I can still hear the
agony in my dad’s voice. The reason I dropped out of law school and never looked back.
Nobody - not my parents, sisters, or closest friends - know the real reason why I dropped out.
They all think that I couldn’t hack it. They think I just wanted to party or have open access to pussy.
They don’t know the nightmares I experience. They don’t know the lengths that I have gone through to
try to forget what I heard. What I visualize. What anger I feel.
So, let’s go back those twelve years again, to when I was eighteen, and see if you agree with me.
I had actually just turned eighteen and it was the summer before my senior year, and I was working at
my grandfather’s firm, making a little extra spending money as well as gaining experience for when it
would be time to apply to law schools.
It was after 6:00 pm by the time I got home, and I was exhausted. I climbed the stairs to my
bedroom, needing to pass the master suite in order to get there. My parents are rarely home before
7:00 pm, so I was surprised when I heard them speaking softly. I was just about to burst into their
room when I turned the corner and heard an angry growl. When I realized that it was my father, whom
I had never once heard raise his voice, I was frozen in place. My heart sank, and my mind was
coming up with a thousand different scenarios as to what could possibly be that horrible. I did a
mental check of all of my family members and they were all alive and healthy, so it couldn’t be that.
Maybe he lost his job? Nah, that wouldn’t cause him to act that way. Maybe someone is sick? Oh my
god! Is my sister ill? My mother?
Knowing that I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on my parents, I tried to move past their room quickly
and quietly so that they didn’t know I was there, but even though my brain told me to move, my feet
just were not listening. I continued to stand there, stuck, listening to the most horrific story. It was so
bad that I had actually convinced myself that he was talking about a movie. Certainly, nothing like that
could happen in real life. I was so fucking wrong, so naïve, but it wasn’t actually confirmed until I hit
law school. The reason I dropped out. The reason I refuse to practice law. The reason I opened a
“sex” club.
My dad’s head was in his hands, hunched over his lap, elbows on his knees. My mom sat
wordlessly, just rubbing his back soothingly. “We have a legal system, but certainly not a justice
system,” my dad whispered. I heard those words repeatedly in my dad’s tortured raspy voice for
weeks after. Waking me in the middle of the night, a cold sweat covering my teenage body. Shaking
from the reality of what happened to that girl. To her father. The nightmares came less and less,
coming fewer and farther apart, but I would be lying if I told you that it doesn’t happen anymore. I
can’t imagine what they had to live through, what she has to live through.
“Do you want to talk about it?” my mom asked gently. He took in a deep breath, but then shook
his head “no.” I let out a quick rush of air, not realizing that I myself was holding my breath. Do I
really want to know? I kept asking myself, but curiosity got the best of me. I slid down the wall as
gently as possible and took a seat. At eighteen, I was already maxed out at 6’5”, but I sat there,
awkwardly, my arms leaning on bent knees, hoping he would change his mind. I was surprised when
he began to open up.
“She was just a young girl, about the same age as Carla. I would have done the same thing.” My
dad started, but got angry again. He was ranting and raving and all I could hear over his exasperation
was my mom consoling him. I rubbed my hand into my chest absentmindedly. My heart breaking at
the pain in my dad’s voice. A minute or so later he continued.
“The victim. She was only sixteen when it happened – less than a year earlier. We had an
eyewitness and irrefutable evidence, so the case was fast-tracked, and the trial was this morning. I
wasn’t the lead prosecutor, but it was my responsibility to do the direct examination on the sole
witness – her father.” He stopped again and took a few deep breaths. I leaned closer to the door to
see what was going on since I didn’t hear him speaking anymore. Hearing it is one thing, watching
the pain in his face was what tipped me into a place I never came back from.
He looked into my mom’s eyes when he began to speak again. “She was a sophomore in high
school, dating the star basketball player, the defendant, DeShawn Jackson. He was a senior at the
time, already eighteen, already an adult, should have known better. The same age as Calvin.” He
stopped again, bowing his head, shaking it side to side. I think he was thinking about Carla and me.
“According to her, he came over to her house that afternoon to study. Her parents were both at
work, so they were alone. I don’t want you to have to think about this, so without going into details, I
will just tell you this. Before he came over, she was a virgin. She no longer holds that virtue.” My
mom gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Bile started rising into my throat, my eyes
welled unshed tears for a girl I never met. It could have been Carla, and I thought I was going to
vomit on the spot.
“Believe it or not, that wasn’t the worst of it,” he said. His eyes were pleading with my mom, as
though he had no desire to finish this story, but she nodded her head, pretty much asking him to
continue.
My dad took another deep breath, and with a shaky voice, continued. “As fate would have it, her
father came home early from work that day. Little did he know that when he climbed those stairs to
his little girl’s room, the rest of their lives would be shattered. According to her father, the sole
witness I was examining on the stand, he heard his daughter scream ‘no’ a few times. At first, he
thought it was the TV, but when he realized that it was her voice, he bounded up the stairs as quickly
as he could, bursting through her door. What he saw…” my dad choked out. I took a quick peek
around the doorframe and tears were streaming down his face. My mother was now bawling. “…what
he saw he can never un-see. His little girl being mauled by this disgusting waste of human flesh.” I
wrapped my arms around my stomach trying not to hurl. I desperately wanted to hear how this
ended. Of course, the girl got justice, right?
“What happened, Cal? Did you nail his ass to the wall?” my mom asked, never one to mince
words. She may be a professional woman, a doctor, but she isn’t afraid to tell it like it is.
My dad patted her on the leg. “Give me a minute, dear. This is not easy for me. The worst is still
to come.” I leaned back against the wall, my head thumping just hard enough to sting, but not loud
enough to draw attention to myself. Thank god Carla isn’t here to hear this.
“He beat the shit out of the asshole.” My dad let out a chuckle, but it was laced with sadness. So
that’s what he meant when he said he would have done the same thing. Then he laid the bomb on us.
Well, on my mom, they still had no idea I was listening in. “He beat him to an inch of his life for
raping his little girl, and this morning, after DeShawn’s trial was over – and he was sent to prison - I
had the repulsive job of prosecuting the father for aggravated battery. With his little girl watching
from the gallery. I can barely stand myself. There is no way I can look at myself in the mirror.” His
head lowered in shame and I almost puked on the spot.
I couldn’t take another word. Through sheer reflex, my body moved faster than I knew it could,
and before I knew it, I was in my bathroom, vomiting the entire contents of my stomach. Then I
vomited again even though there was nothing left in there. I dry heaved a few more times, before
crawling into my bed. I grabbed my pillow like it was my only life preserver, smashed it into my
face, and screamed every obscenity that I knew. And that was many considering I lived in Harlem.
Then, I did the most natural thing, I cried like a baby. For hours. That was the last time I ever shed a
tear. And it was for a girl that I never knew, or would ever know. I wonder what ended up happening
to her father? To this day, nobody knows that I heard that conversation.
Needless to say, my dad quit his job with the prosecutor’s office that day and became the second
King on the letterhead. But they still live in that same house, still trying to do some good.
I was still convinced that law school was the right place for me. So after graduating that year, I
moved to the City to attend Columbia University, and subsequently Columbia Law – where I met my
boys, Nick and Parker. I thought I could change the legal system, right all of the wrongs. Until the
semester that I took Criminal Law. Until I was assigned my case to brief for class the next morning.
Until I saw it in black and white. It was no longer just a story. I didn’t want to exist in that reality,
where there is a legal system, but no justice. I closed my Criminal Law textbook, and never went
back.
Charlotte
“We, the Jury, find the Defendant…Guilty.”
The first time I heard that statement, relief washed over me. I felt like I was able to breathe
again. I may have even been happy. I think I cracked a smile for the first time in almost a year. The
second time I heard it, is a completely different story. My mom was holding onto me so tightly, I
could barely breathe. She was rocking back and forth, whimpering and mumbling under her breath.
No, No, No, this can’t be. My brother sat on the other side of me, tears sliding down his face. I
grabbed his hand and squeezed, reassuring him that he was not alone.
Numb. That’s all I felt. Then came the disbelief. And lastly, anger. How could they find my dad
guilty? He was protecting me. Defending me. Saving my life. But the law doesn’t see it that way. The
law is objective, free of emotion. Fuck that! I was a sixteen-year-old girl; don’t tell me to be free of
emotion.
When I finally got the courage to look at my father, he was staring back at me. Adoringly. Huh?
“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he mouthed to me.
“I love you,” was the only response I could muster. I felt so guilty. This was all my fault.
Seconds later, my dad’s public defender – who looks like he was still in high school, by the way
- shot up from his chair and shouted to the Judge, “The defense requests a Judgment notwithstanding
the verdict!” What the hell is that? I looked at my mom and she shrugged her shoulders, my dad
looked just as bewildered, and I chanced a glance at the prosecutor, and he had sort of a smile going
on. Again, I asked, what the hell was going on? I reached for my mom’s phone and turned it on as
quickly as possible so I could do some research. I Googled that notwithstanding term that I heard the
public defender use, and landed on Wikipedia. “… is the practice in
in a
jury trial may overrule the decision of a
verdict. In literal terms, the judge enters a verdict notwithstanding the jury findings. This intervention,
often requested but rarely granted, permits the judge to exercise discretion to avoid extreme and
unreasonable jury decisions…”
Rarely granted. That’s the only term my brain was able to focus on. That’s probably why the
prosecutor was smiling. The Judge took a deep breath and started to speak.
“You know, Mr. Public Defender (there is no reason to give him a name because that’s all I ever
called him), I realize that you are a little new at this, being that you are only out of law school for a
few months, so I am going to give you a little safety rope. Try not to hang yourself with it.”
“Yes, Sir,” the public defender responded. I saw sweat forming on his upper lip. If my nerves
weren’t already shot, I would have been freaking out even more than I already was.
“A JNOV applies solely to civil cases. We have just heard the verdict from the jury of a criminal
trial.” The Judge looked pointedly at the public defender, as if he was trying to hint at something
without actually saying it.
All of the sudden, the public defender’s face lit up and he shot from his seat. “The defense
motions this Court to Set Aside the Judgment!”
“Interesting, Counselor. You do realize that a Motion to Set Aside the Judgment is similar to a
JNOV in that it is rarely, if ever, granted?”
“Yes, Your Honor. But if there were any case in which I thought granting it would be
appropriate, this would be it. I wouldn’t request it unless I was absolutely confident that you would
agree.”
The Judge spoke again, this time addressing the prosecutor. “How about you, Mr. King? What’s
your take on this?”
I held my breath. I think. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. My mom was gripping onto my
arm so hard, her nails digging in so deeply that she drew blood. It was an out of body experience to
say the least. At the same exact time, the entire courtroom turned to look at Mr. King.
He stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and smiled again. “I have no objection, Your Honor.”
There was a collective gasp amongst the entire courtroom, including the court reporter who was
typing away on her stenography machine. Then there was silence. Dead silence. All I heard was my
heart beating in my ears.
The Judge cleared his throat. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to overturn the jury’s
guilty verdict? My cynical and completely jaded mind said no. He was a silver haired, middle-aged
white man. Probably part of some men’s club. Golfing with his other snooty buddies then dining at
“the club” with a cigar in one hand and a whisky in the other. My dad’s a middle-aged, working-
class, black man who beat the shit out of a young kid. We are screwed.
“This is very unorthodox. In my twenty years on the bench, I have never granted a Motion to Set
Aside a Judgment. Certainly not one in which the Prosecutor didn’t try to vehemently oppose.” He
paused again, and I wanted to kill him. “Just spit it out,” I wanted to scream at him.
He leaned back in his reddish-brown leather executive chair and steepled his fingers. “What you
did, Mr. Fisher, was illegal. You are not permitted to put your hands on another person, unless your
life is in grave danger, and you certainly are not permitted to beat him to this degree. I am a Judge,
and my job is to objectively enforce the law.” He paused again. Shoot me!
After that little speech, I was completely deflated. There was no way that he was going to let my
dad off the hook.
“HOWEVER…”
My mom and I looked at each other in the eyes and didn’t look away. We couldn’t risk the earth
shattering disappointment.
“…I am also a husband, father, and grandfather. And if I would have been in your shoes that
day, Mr. Fisher, I would have been on trial for murder, not battery; therefore, I find myself torn. I
cannot condone what you did. Violence begets violence, and it is never the answer.”
I finally broke eye contact with my mom and peered at the Judge. He was looking back and forth
between the prosecutor and the public defender. “Don’t get any ideas here boys; this will most likely
never happen again.”
“No, Sir,” they both responded in unison.
What the hell just happened? Was the prosecutor fighting for us, too?
“With that being said…”
The whole courtroom again collectively turned to face the Judge. Eyes wide as saucers, I didn’t
want to blink in case I missed it.
The Judge picked up his gavel. “Request for the Motion to Set Aside the Judgment …Granted!
Mr. Bron Fisher, you are free to go. Court is adjourned.”
The last thing I heard was his gavel…BAM BAM BAM…before I fainted.
A bit more Charlotte…
Nothing was ever the same after that day. Bron and I became inseparable. When he wasn’t at
work, we would do everything together. He was my father, my best friend, and my hero.
The whole rape/trial ordeal wreaked havoc on my social life. The kids at school pretty much
tortured me every day. They accused me of lying, being a whore, and bringing down their star
basketball player. The “nice” girls were mean, and the “mean” girls became intolerable. Thank
goodness, it was almost summer vacation.
My parents were sympathetic to the torment they saw me going through. They also understood
that I could never feel safe in that house again. I had been sleeping in Tommy’s room with him since
it all happened because I was afraid of being alone in a dark room. Knowing that we could no longer
live there, the summer before my senior year of high school, my mom and dad decided it was time for
a change of scenery and moved us to Brooklyn. It may not have been a cross-country move like last
time, but it still felt a world away.
Two life-altering events happened that summer. Well, three if you count DeShawn’s trial. Crap,
four if your count my dad’s trial. Anyway, first, I met my best friend in the entire world, Delilah
Sampson. We have gotten each other through a lot of shit. From bullying to cheating exes to her
mom’s sudden death, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl. And other than my family, she is the
only person in my new life that knows what happened to me, in full detail.
Second, I decided that Charlotte Miller no longer existed. I spent the first sixteen years of my
life honoring my biological father. I am going to spend the rest of my life honoring my hero, my father,
Bron Fisher. So, I officially, legally, and excitedly, changed my name to Charlotte Fisher. But I go
by Charlie. Only Charlie. Not Charlotte. Never Charlotte. Charlotte was destroyed in my bedroom
that afternoon. Charlie is who is left - wearing a sarcasm fueled, kick ass, take no prisoners, big girl
panty wearing, yet still very vulnerable, protective mask. Take it or leave it.
Chapter One
Calvin
I never thought that I would see the day. Family and friends are gathered here at my club - Club
Masquerade - tonight in celebration of my best friend, Nick Santino, and his girl, Delilah Sampson’s
engagement. Not that I never thought I would ever see him engaged, but rather, I never thought I would
see friends and family gathered together. In my club. Without masks. You see, Club M is an exclusive
club that you can only attend by invitation or through a very extensive background check. Once
approved, the rules of the club are very strict. Anonymity is paramount, therefore, everyone must be
masked, and nobody is allowed to speak. So you can see why being surrounded by an unmasked,
boisterous crowd could throw me for a loop. Throw my family into the mix, and this is sorta fucked
up. In my opinion.
But I digress.
I’ve never seen Nick so happy. I smile to myself. I’m so glad that he’s finally found the woman
of his dreams. The night is still young and everyone is having a blast as The Plain White T’s are
rocking the house. I glance around at all of the smiling faces and settle on the gorgeous blonde
dancing with my buddy, Parker Hamilton. She is Delilah’s best friend, Charlotte Fisher. The same
woman who caught my eye months ago when she came into my club with Delilah. Those piercing blue
eyes of hers have been haunting my dreams ever since. After the song is over, Charlotte separates
from Parker and heads to the bar for a drink. I make my way toward the bar to see if I can talk to her
without making a complete dumbass out of myself.
For a moment, I’m taken back to when I first laid eyes on Charlotte. She and Delilah came to
Club M for the first time. I swear the rest of the people in the place faded away and it was only her
standing there. Her sun-kissed hair was down, curling slightly as it flowed over her shoulders. She
had the most piercing crystal blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and that night, her pouty lips were accentuated
by red lipstick. Her mask was navy blue, just like the short, tight dress she was wearing.
When Nick had asked me to find out the name and number of the girl she was with, I checked out
who they both were. Since I’m the owner of the club, I have access to everyone’s real name for
security purposes. That’s when I found out that it was Delilah that Nick was going after. So while he
was chasing his now fiancée, I decided to do some chasing of my own.
While Nick and Delilah danced, I broke my own rules and texted Charlotte. We teased and
flirted with each other for a little while before I decided to end it for the night. I was not going to
break any more of the rules that I swore to keep inside my club – don’t shit where I eat and no texting
or screwing women in my own club. That right there is bad business. I already broke the no texting
rule, but there was no way I was going to break the bigger of the two, the no screwing rule. I was
horny as hell from the texts, and if I wanted to keep rule number two, then I had to stop talking to her.
I ended the conversation politely, saying that I had to get going because I had to work early,
which she took pretty well. She never saw who she was talking to, so she had no idea that I wasn’t
really leaving. She only stayed for another half an hour after we finished texting. I promised myself
that I would pursue her outside of the club since I knew who she was and how to get to her. I tried on
a couple of occasions to talk to her whenever we met up through Nick and Delilah, but she always
found a way to blow me off.
Tonight, though, I at least want to dance with her. I sidle up next to her and lean against the bar.
While she’s not looking, I check out her tight body in those leather leggings and off the shoulder shirt
she’s got going on. Mmm, hot damn!
“Having fun?” I ask over the music.
Charlotte turns my way and smiles. “Yeah, this is great, Calvin. Thanks for all of this.” She lifts
her arms and waves them around the club, causing her chest to rise along with them.
I nod and stifle a groan. I focus the conversation back to Nick, trying my best to not embarrass
myself, or scare her away, with a hard on in the middle of the party. “My pleasure. I love seeing my
best friend so happy.”
“Me, too. They are really great together,” Charlotte says, her smile turning soft as she glances
over at Nick and Delilah.
“Do you think I can get the next dance?” I ask straight up. I don’t play games or mince words; I
like to get straight to the point.
The change in her is immediate. Her whole body tenses and her smile fades. What the hell? I’ve
only asked her to dance, it’s not like I said, “Hey, let’s go up to one of the rooms and fuck.”
“I don’t know about that,” she says, her voice weirdly void of all emotion.
I frown. “It’s just a dance, Charlotte. I’m not asking you to come home with me.”
Something flickers in her eyes for just a second, something that I can’t read.
“It’s Charlie and I…uh…I have a boyfriend,” she stutters and I have the feeling that she’s lying.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You do? Who? Is he here?”
Charlotte glances around quickly. “Ah, yeah…it’s Parker. Parker is my boyfriend,” she says
quickly.
I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re dating Parker? Why hasn’t he ever mentioned it to me?”
“We’re…ya know, trying to keep it on the DL because of him being famous and all. So don’t say
anything to him, he would kill me if I told anyone about us,” she says, wincing convincingly.
I can’t decide if she is telling the truth or not. On one hand I feel like she is lying, but then on the
other, that sounds like Parker. He doesn’t like his relationships to be public. With being as famous an
actor as he is, he is really careful to keep any woman that he’s with under wraps.
“I’m sure Parker wouldn’t mind if his best buddy dances with his girl,” I press.
Charlotte nibbles on the inside of her cheek and her eyes widen a bit. “Oh, I don’t know about
that. I don’t think I would feel right,” she finally says.
My first instinct is to call bullshit, but if I’m wrong, then I’ll make an ass out of myself. I better
just let it go. I nod.
“Alright, fine, can’t say that I didn’t try,” I say with a flirtatious smirk and a wink.
She blinks at me for a moment before giving me a tight smile and running off with her drink.
Whatever her deal is, she’s unavailable and I need to get over my little crush. It might just be that she
doesn’t date black guys and she doesn’t know how or doesn’t want to say it and sound like a bitch.
I’ve had plenty of women do that to me, no matter if they find me attractive or not. I don’t
discriminate, though - a woman is a woman. Doesn’t matter what color, shape, or size. I love them
all; they are all beautiful. My mama taught me right.
Charlotte
Holy fucking shit! How does he do that? How does he transform my whole body into goo by just
talking to me? I refuse to glance back at Calvin as I make my getaway. That man is too attractive for
words and if things were different, I’d be all over that. But I’m scarred…damaged…there are too
many things about Calvin that remind me of HIM. I can’t let him unmask me, it’s my only defense.
The man is smokin’ hot, though, and my body knows it. It’s on fire right now. He didn’t even
touch me, yet I feel scorched. I can’t tell you the last guy who’s made me feel like this. Now that I
think about it, I don’t think that any guy has ever made me burn so hot just by talking to me. I shake my
head at the insanity of it. The one guy that I will never touch is the one guy who lights my fire. What
kind of shit is this?
I make my way over to Delilah where she is sitting at a table, resting her feet. She smiles
knowingly at me as I sit down next to her. I roll my eyes at her.
“Don’t even start,” I groan, knowing exactly why she’s looking at me like that.
“He’s a good guy, Charlie. I don’t understand why you won’t leave the past in the past and let
him take you out,” Delilah says.
I make an aggravated noise. “I can’t, LaLa. I might have told you what happened to me, but you
have no idea as to the extent of the damage left behind…” I sigh.
“Are you afraid of him?” Delilah asks, her voice concerned and quiet.
“No, I’m not afraid of Calvin. I just…I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Besides, now is not the
time for it,” I say with finality. It’s not the time for that conversation.
Delilah nods in agreement and changes the subject. “So, did you know about this?” she asks,
motioning toward the festivities going on.
I raise a cocky eyebrow. “Did I know? Of course. Who the hell do you think helped Nick plan
this? That guy is clueless!”
Delilah throws her head back and laughs. I laugh, too. Seeing her so over the moon in love with
someone warms my heart. I’m grateful that my best friend has found happiness. I just wish I could find
a little bit of my own.
The party has finally died down, and I am ready to go home and pass out. I’m one of the last ones
to leave. Parker had snuck out without my knowledge, the bastard! So now I have to try and sneak out
without Calvin seeing me. No doubt he will be curious as to why I’m leaving alone. I just pass the bar
and almost make it to the doors when I hear Calvin’s deep voice call after me.
“Hold up, Charlotte!”
Damnit! Why does he have to call me that?
I reluctantly spin around to see him trotting toward me. “Dude, it’s Charlie, not Charlotte,” I huff.
“You aren’t really walking out to your car alone are you?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together in
disapproval. He totally ignored what I just said to him.
I raise my eyebrow at him. The man has to be at least six feet five inches because I’m five feet
eight inches and he towers over me. I actually have to tilt my head back to look at his face. His eyes
are gorgeous; they are a light caramel brown framed in thick dark lashes. His skin is more of a milk
chocolate or coffee with a lot of cream. A perfectly trimmed goatee frames his delicious mouth. And
his body is a whole different subject - broad muscular shoulders and back, biceps as big as my head,
and who knows what kind of washboard abs he’s got going on under his shirt, because there is no
doubt that he’s got ‘em. He’s freakin’ yummy. Shit, I am in trouble with this one.
“Ah, yeah. I am. Sooo goodnight,” I say with some attitude as I turn, hoping he gets the picture.
“What happened to Parker?” he asks and I can hear that he’s following me.
“Oh, he had to run, his agent called,” I lie and wave my hand dismissively.
“Well, I’ll walk you out. This isn’t the greatest of neighborhoods,” Calvin says.
Fuck me! He has to be all chivalrous and shit, too? Can the man get any higher on the hotness
meter? I think not. I mutter a “thanks” and let him follow me out to my car. Once there, I unlock my car
and turn to face him.
“Thanks, Calvin,” I say with a tight smile.
He smirks and winks. “No problem, sweetness. And if you ever feel the need to get rid of Parker,
you know where to find me.”
I roll my eyes, making him chuckle. Even his chuckle is sexy. I stifle a shiver of pleasure and get
into my car. Calvin backs away as I pull out. I glance in my rearview to see him shove his hands into
his jean pockets, his smile quickly fading. If I could kick myself, I would. I feel guilty for lying to him,
but I can’t tell him the truth. He really wouldn’t leave me alone if he knew the truth. He’d probably try
to fix me. Well, that’s not possible, because I’m broken beyond repair.
A little more Charlotte…
Murphy’s Law. If this morning is any indication of how my day is going to go, I am screwed.
My alarm clock never went off this morning. I just happened to wake up because I heard the garbage
truck outside. When I peek at my alarm clock, my eyes widen like saucers and I spring out of bed. My
heart starts to race in panic. I have never been late to work before, and I am not going to start today.
I jump into the shower as quickly as possible to learn there is no hot water. How can there be no hot
water in New York City? It’s not like I live in the boonies or somewhere that doesn’t have hot water
heaters. What the hell? I rush to get dressed, only to find that my cat peed in my favorite pair of black
wedges. Yes, I have a cat. Didn’t I mention him before? His name is Horse. Delilah actually named
him when we were seniors in college. She named him after an ex of mine that I made the mistake of
telling her was hung like a… anyway, I got Horse from that ex. Well, maybe “got” is not the right
word. He gave him to me. Okay, he didn’t necessarily “give” him to me either. My ex actually broke
up with me because he said I liked his pussy better than I liked him. So I left. With his pussy.
I guess Horse is pissed at me for some reason. No pun intended. Not that it takes a lot to piss off
a pussy. Most are evil. Okay, pun intended there. I grab a pair of my black heels. I don’t think I will
be walking to work today, so comfort is not an issue.
I throw all of my shit onto the kitchen counter so I can make myself a bagel and coffee to go. No
time to pack a lunch. And wouldn’t you know it? I am out of coffee. Motherfucker! I grab my bagel
and fly out the door.
I usually walk to work, but since I am so rushed, I decide today is the perfect day to drive my
VW Beetle convertible. She’s bright yellow, so I named her Daisy. Sorry, useless piece of
information. Anyway, of course, today of all days, Daisy has a flat. I kick her tire in frustration a little
too hard for my toes’ liking and head to the corner to flag down a cab.
So, let’s recap here: No alarm, No hot water, No black wedges, No coffee, No Daisy. Can this
day get any worse?
I get to work with seconds to spare. I store my purse, run to the kitchen for my much needed –
and well-deserved – coffee, and then get back to my desk before my boss arrives. I just sat down at
my desk when my phone beeps, letting me know I have a text. I glance at it where it is sitting next to
my computer and see that it’s Delilah, so I pick up my phone and swipe my thumb across the screen to
open it.
LaLa: Meet me for lunch, we need to finish our chat!
Shit!
Charlie: I’m really busy today, rain check?
LaLa: You will not avoid me, Charlie! Lunch today, 1:00
Charlie: I’m not avoiding, veerrry busy…
LaLa: Don’t make me start tweeting to the whole world that u named your vibrator
I gasp out loud. That bitch!
Charlie: Don’t u dare bring Shemar into this!
Yeah, that’s right, I named my vibrator Shemar, after Shemar Moore from Criminal Minds. Can
you blame me? That man is fine!
LaLa: And don’t think I didn’t notice that Calvin looks an awful lot like Shemar Moore.
Coincidence? I think not ;)~
Oh no! She wouldn’t.
Charlie: I don’t know what u are talking about
LaLa: I am pretty sure Calvin follows my twitter. Just sayin’
Charlie: You wouldn’t!
LaLa: Try me! Lunch, 1:00, TODAY
Charlie: Fine!
LaLa: Great! See u then ;)
And my day just keeps getting better. I snarl at my phone. Delilah can be an evil bitch
sometimes. I know she means well, but still, she’s threatening to tell the whole fucking world about
Shemar. And how the hell does she know that I think Calvin looks just like him? Dammit, that’s
straight up mean! She’s lucky I love her. Meanwhile, I am going to kill this Murphy’s Law guy if I
ever meet him!
At 1:00, I meet up with Delilah at our usual place, a cute little coffee shop not too far from either
of our jobs. The place has a great soup and salad combo and they also make a delicious Panini.
“Alright, so cough it up,” Delilah says before taking a bite of her salad.
The pain in my ass forced me to meet her for lunch today so that we can “talk” about our
unfinished conversation from the other night at her engagement party. Thank god I only have an hour
for lunch; maybe I can stall and not have to fess up.
“Cough what up?” I ask, playing stupid.
Delilah gives me a bored look. “Charlie,” she says simply and I know I’m not going to get away
with it.
“Dammit,” I hiss, putting down my Panini. “Fine. You know the first night we went to Club M
and you went off to dance with Nick?”
Delilah nods and waits for me to continue.
“Well, I texted with a few guys. One asked me up to a room, so I went…”
“You said that you didn’t meet anyone.” Delilah frowns.
“I lied. I was so embarrassed by what happened that I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about it.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“What could possibly be that embarrassing that you couldn’t have told me, your best friend in the
world, about it?” she replies with a bit of a bite and I know that she’s pissed that I didn’t tell her
sooner.
“He was a black guy…” I start, but Delilah cuts me off.
“Was it Calvin?” she asks suspiciously.
“No, definitely not. This guy was shorter and not as muscular,” I assure her. “Anyway, I went up
to the room with him, and as soon as he shut the door, he grabbed me and tossed me on the bed. He
was only being playful but my mind flashed back to DeShawn and I freaked the hell out. I screamed
and scrambled for the door. The poor guy was completely confused, he tried to grab me again before I
got to the door, and I could see that he wanted to say something, but I was too far gone by then. I
shoved him back and ran out,” I admitted quietly.
“So, what are you saying?” Delilah asks, a bit confused going by the look on her face.
“Ever since the whole DeShawn incident, I’ve only slept with white guys, and I’ve never had a
problem. But I wanted to give this guy a try and apparently I can’t do it. So that’s why I’m staying
away from Calvin. Because I know that if I let him near me, I’m going to freak out like I did before. I
feel like such a fool,” I say softly.
Delilah reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “You’ve been traumatized, but you don’t
know for a fact that you will freak out with Calvin. You won’t know unless you give him a chance.”
“LaLa, I can’t. If that happens to me with Calvin, and he tells Nick and Parker, I will die of
mortification,” I croak.
“Calvin is not that kind of guy, Charlie,” Delilah chides softly.
I wave that away. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not even going to put myself in that position again.”
“Calvin is not DeShawn,” my best friend says, her hazel eyes sympathetic as she looks at me
from across the table.
“I know that, my body knows that, but my brain doesn’t care.” I sigh in aggravation.
Delilah nods in understanding. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”
“I know. I’m sorry LaLa.” I frown.
She gives me a small smile. “I still love you,” she teases.
“Gee, thanks.” I snort and go back to eating my Panini.
When our hour is up, Delilah and I make our way toward the door. I get a refill on my coffee
before heading out. I walk out first, my head turned so that I can say something to Delilah, who is
behind me. What I don’t see is the guy walking into the coffee shop at the same time. I walk smack
dab into a wall of muscle, knocking me back. My coffee knocks up and pretty much pours straight
down the front of my shirt. God dammit!
I gasp as the hot liquid scalds my skin. Delilah is pissing herself laughing behind me. I bend
forward slightly so that my shirt doesn’t stick to me, and the guy that I walked into is apologizing like
crazy. His voice is really familiar, I know that I’ve heard it before. I look up to see Calvin King in
front of me, looking distraught.
“Aww, shit, Charlotte. I didn’t even see you! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing a
bunch of napkins off the station next to the door where you can fix your coffee with cream and sugar.
“Other than my skin melting off, I’m fine,” I mutter bitterly.
Calvin starts dabbing at my chest with the wad of napkins. He starts just under my chin and
works his way down. I don’t even think he realizes what he’s doing, but at the moment he is wiping
the napkins over my breasts. The fire returns, and this time it’s not from the coffee. I snatch the
napkins away from him.
“I got it, thanks,” I snap.
Calvin winces. “Shit, sorry.”
I start wiping at my ruined shirt. There is no way I can go back to work like this. I glance up to
see Calvin staring at my chest. I snap my fingers in front of his face.
“Yo, asshole, eyes up here,” I say, pointing to my eyes with two fingers.
Calvin blinks and a slight blush actually creeps up onto his cheeks. Instead of apologizing again,
this time he seems obstinate. “Dammit, Charlotte, I can see your bra through your shirt.”
I drop my head down to look at my shirt. Sure enough, I can see my pink lace bra. I curse and
glance at Delilah, who is leaning against the coffee station with her legs crossed as she continues to
cackle. Wench.
“You need to cover up. Take my shirt, you can’t walk around the city like that,” Calvin says as he
starts to unbutton his shirt.
“What? No! Then you won’t have a shirt!” I squawk.
Calvin smirks. “First off, I’m a guy, I can walk around with no shirt, and second, I have on a wife
beater. You are not walking around New York City like that so every horny guy can see what you got
under there.”
He slips out of his green plaid short-sleeved button down shirt, revealing a massive chest and
biceps. He holds it out for me. My eyes rake over him from head to toe. I falter slightly when I get to
the front of his jeans. Is that a chubby I see forming? Heat washes up my face. I swallow hard and
slowly reach for the shirt, my eyes unable to look away from his incredible body. I put the shirt on
and button it up. It’s like wearing a dress, but at least my bra isn’t on display for the world to see. I
pull in a deep breath, getting a nose full of his delicious scent from his shirt.
“Thanks, Calvin,” I say gratefully.
“Anytime, Pinky,” he smirks naughtily and winks at me.
I groan at the nickname, but it’s better than him calling me Charlotte, so I let it go. Before I can
say another word, I hear a shrill voice call Calvin’s name. Calvin, Delilah, and I all turn toward the
door at the other side of the coffee shop to see whom it is. I hear Calvin mutter a vicious curse. I want
to turn to see his face but I’m having trouble taking my eyes off the woman coming toward us. She’s
like a mix between Fran Drescher and J-Woww from The Jersey Shore.
This chick is wearing high-wasted zebra print leggings with a hot pink half shirt. Her giant fake
tits are popping out from the top of it. Her heels are ridiculously high and I have no idea how she
doesn’t break an ankle walking in them. Her skin has that not so cute fake bake orangey glow, her hair
is permed, teased and hair sprayed to perfection, and her nails are long and claw like. How does she
wipe herself with those things? And more importantly, how does she know Calvin?
J-Woww to the fifth power saunters over, practically shoving me aside as she makes her way
toward Calvin. She grabs his face and plants a big disgusting kiss on his lips. I fight back the urge to
gag. Gross. Why has he been trying to take me out when it looks like he has a carrot to fuck?
“Oh. My. Gawd! Calvin, why don’t you ever answer your phone?” asks Fran Drescher on crack,
heroine, and crystal meth. She’s straight up North Jersey, going off of her accent.
Calvin speaks quietly to her and I can’t hear anything he’s saying over the cow chewing and gum
popping just behind me. I grab Delilah, who I think just peed in her pants with hysterics, and make a
dash for the exit. Calvin catches my eye before I walk out the door. He seems to be pleading with me
not to leave him here. I shoot him a shit-eating grin and mouth “thank you” before following Delilah
out the door.
Fucking Murphy and his god damned Law.
Calvin
I gape at Charlotte and Delilah as they leave me here to deal with…I can’t even remember her
name…by myself. Okay, so I slept with her in the past, and it was only two months ago, but still, I
could have used some help getting rid of her. This chick doesn’t know how to take a hint. She has
been calling and texting me non-stop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I slept with her, I was
definitely not in the right frame of mind. She just screams “clingy.” I was drunk at the time, not that
that’s an excuse because I still should have known better, but I was horny and she was more than
willing. Now, I can’t get rid of her. Karma…that bitch!
I stare at Charlotte’s back and her flowing golden hair as she walks down the street. The sight of
her in her wet shirt is burned into my brain. That pink lacey bra she’s wearing is just…holy shit! I
swear I saw a hint of nipple through it. My cock is throbbing in my jeans after seeing those creamy
white breasts cupped so lovingly by that pretty bra. Damn, I wish it were my hands. Fuck, I am
jealous of a mother fucking bra!
“Calvin! Are you even listening to me?” says zebra pants, snapping her fingers in front of my
face.
I slide an irritated gaze in her direction. “No, what is it that you want?”
“I want you to start answering your damn phone when I call. I’m not some whore you can fuck
and then toss to the side, ya know!” she squawks.
I close my eyes and sigh heavily. Kill me now. “I told you when we hooked up that I wasn’t
looking for a relationship and that it would only be a one-time thing.” It’s standard practice to explain
it in detail when sleeping with some chick I don’t really know.
“Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind. I want more, and you will not walk all over me like I’m a
piece of garbage. So you better start treating me right,” she says, her North Jersey whiny accent,
completely grating on my nerves. Charlotte doesn’t sound like this at all. She has a New York accent
for sure, but it is sexy and sultry. She could read me the dictionary and I would be turned on.
“Listen, I don’t even remember your name. You can forget about getting more from me, it’s not
gonna happen,” I stay and turn to leave.
“What? How dare you!” she screeches, stomping her foot. “I’m gonna tell my brother and he’s
gonna come kick your ass! You hear me?”
I don’t even bother acknowledging her as I head down the block to my car. Forget getting coffee,
I will never see coffee in the same light again. Coffee is only good now when it’s poured down the
front of Charlotte’s shirt. Or when I am sucking it off. Or licking. Or biting. Shit, I need a cold
shower. She is killing me that Charlotte Fisher. I will have her…and soon.
Chapter Two
Calvin
I’m dragging my feet as I walk up the steps to my parents’ house. It’s always the same old shit
every time I come for dinner, and no doubt tonight will be no different. I got so distracted from my run
in with Charlotte that I didn’t even stop at the bakery to grab something for dessert like I was
supposed to. I’m gonna catch hell for that, too.
I open the front door of the house that I grew up in and step into the foyer. The smell of a home
cooked meal wafts through the air and my stomach starts to rumble. It’s probably the one thing that I
miss most about living at home, the biggest downfall of living the bachelor life – lots of eating out.
Fortunately, I have a great chef at the club who makes me dinner a few nights a week.
My parents have remodeled a couple of times over the years. The brownstone has a very open
and modern look to it, but my mom kept it decorated very traditionally and homey. The walls are
painted a neutral brown, and the furniture is all warm tones of browns and beiges. It is very upscale
looking, but comfortable at the same time. The perfect balance. Kind of how I like my women.
Definitely, how I see Charlotte. Shit! You are talking about furniture dick weed. What does that
have to do with the delectable Charlotte Fisher?
I kick off my shoes next to the door because my mother would have my head if I scuff up her new
hardwood floors. I hear the usual voices in the kitchen and head in that direction, following my nose.
My mother, Dr. Yolanda King, is flitting around the kitchen, preparing dinner as I walk in. My
father is lingering close by, hoping to get a taste of whatever she is making. My sister, Carla, is sitting
at the table with my grandfather – my dad’s dad - yakking it up. My grandmother passed away when I
was twenty-three from lung cancer. All four of them look up when I enter and I do my best to smile
politely. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family to death, but sometimes I just get tired of the nagging.
“There you are, Calvin! You’re late!” My mother starts. “And where is dessert?” she asks,
seeing my empty hands.
“Sorry, Mama, I got sidetracked while I was out,” I say as I give her a kiss on her pretty cheek.
She glances at me curiously. “Sidetracked how?”
I smirk. “I bumped into this girl I like, literally.” No point in lying to her, she would know.
She smiles wide. “Oh, yeah? Who is this girl? Do I know her?”
“Nah, she’s a friend of Nick’s fiancé,” I say, shrugging one shoulder dismissively as I turn to
shake my father’s hand. He somehow ended up next to me, probably trying to steal a piece of pork
from the pork loin that my mom has just placed on the counter.
“What are you, some kind of thug now?” My grandfather huffs as he eyeballs my wife beater and
jeans ensemble in disgust.
“No, Gramps. I gave my shirt to this girl because when I bumped into her at the coffee shop, she
spilled her coffee down the front of hers,” I explain.
“So? Why did you need to give up your shirt? Did you even know the chick?” Carla asks, raising
an eyebrow in question.
“What the hell? Why am I being grilled about a shirt? Yes, I knew her and her shirt was see-
through when it got wet. I couldn’t let her walk around the city with her bra on display for everyone to
see!” I snap, completely irritated by this whole conversation.
Everyone stops moving to stare at me in shock. Rarely do I ever lose my cool.
“Damn, Cal, no need to get your panties in a bunch,” Carla snorts.
“Then stop asking me a million and one questions about my shirt!” I huff and sit down at the
table.
“You really have a thing for this girl, don’t ya, son?” My dad chuckles, clapping me on the back.
I send him a dirty look over my shoulder, making him laugh. “I like her, yes.”
“So ask her out,” my mother says, as if it’s that simple.
“She’s dating Parker,” I mutter.
“Aw, hell no! You stay away from her!” my grandfather exclaims, pointing at me from across the
table. “Never go after your friend’s woman!”
I bite back a smile. “I know, Gramps.”
I help my mother carry all of the food into the formal dining room. It is painted a deep ruby red,
similar to the color of my club, and has bright white chair rails with vertical striped wainscoting and
matching crown molding. There is a spectacular crystal chandelier hanging centered over the ten-seat
teak table. I actually bought that for them. I had it made by the same guy who created my bar top at the
club. Unbelievable craftsmanship this guy has. What a talent.
My mother places all of the food on the table and everyone takes a seat – pork loin, asparagus
spears, potatoes au gratin, and homemade cinnamon bread. Damn, I am going to have to hit the gym
hard after this meal. All is quiet for a little bit while everyone is loading up their dishes and taking
their first bites. My sister starts talking about a case she is working on and I tune it out. I’m so tired of
hearing about court and cases and snarky douchebag lawyers.
Then I hear something that is worth my attention. While Carla is blabbering to my grandfather, my
father speaks quietly to my mother. My father is sitting at the head of the table, I am to his right, my
mother is to his left. I keep my eyes glued on my food and pretend that I’m not listening to anyone, but
I’m tuned into everything that is coming out of my father’s mouth.
“Remember that case I had about twelve years ago, Yolanda? The one with the young girl who
got raped and I had to prosecute her father for beating the shit out of her attacker?” My dad murmurs
quietly.
“Mmm hmm, how could I forget?” My mother muses softly between bites of her food.
“I just heard that the piece of shit may be getting out soon, actually a year early for good
behavior,” my father growls. I can clearly hear the disgust in his voice.
I risk a glance at my mother to see her staring at my dad, her lip lifted in a silent snarl. No words
necessary. She obviously finds it as disgusting as my father does. So do I, but I’m not supposed to be
listening to their conversation, nor am I supposed to know anything about the girl they are talking
about.
“…I need a pimp’s opinion…Calvin? Are you listening?” Carla asks, breaking into my thoughts
and parents conversation.
“Carla,” my mother hisses.
“Huh?” I reply, sending a bored glance her way.
“I said I need a pimp’s opinion. Are you available for comment?” She teases, nudging me with
her elbow.
“Is that supposed to be funny or something?” I snap, completely fed up with everyone and their
fucking comments about my career choice.
Carla’s smile falters and she glances around at everyone before looking back at me. “Uh, yeah,
Cal, it was just a joke,” she says uncertainly.
“Well, ya know what? That shit’s not funny anymore!” I bark and stand up.
“Come on now, Calvin,” my father says, holding out his hand to try to calm me down.
“No! I need all four of you to listen to me right now! That case that you were just talking about
with mom is the reason I dropped out of law school,” I say, looking my dad square in the eyes.
He frowns. “What?”
“You heard me. I dropped out of law school because of that case. Because of that girl. Not
because I want to be a pimp. Not because I am a pervert or a sex addict. Because of that case,” I say
emphatically, making sure that I got my point across.
“I don’t understand, dear,” my mom says quietly, her eyes questioning me further.
“I heard you that night, the night that you came home and were in your room telling mom all about
that horrific case. How horrible you felt for having to prosecute her father.”
“But you went to law school after that happened,” my father responds, confused.
I nod. “I know. I still thought that I was going to be a lawyer at the time, make some kind of
difference in society. That is, until I actually had to study the case. Then the reality of it all hit me. Up
until then, I told myself that it was just a story. That a person could never treat another person like
that, that a man would never treat a woman like that. But that kid, that kid was a disgusting animal,” I
spit bitterly.
Everyone is quiet. Probably stunned silent, so I just continue. “That’s when I decided to drop out
and open the club. I wanted to create a place where people could go to do their thing, consensually
and anonymously, and hopefully, possibly, prevent something like that from happening to another
woman or girl. I mean, I take every possible precaution to ensure the women’s safety, and the men’s,
too, for that matter. I do background checks on all new members and anyone with any kind of criminal
or violent background gets rejected.”
Once I finish, I take a deep breath. If feels so good to let out something that I have been carrying
around for so long. I feel the weight lifting off my back.
My parents gawk at me for the longest time before my mother speaks up. “Why didn’t you ever
tell us?”
“Shit, I don’t know. I guess I thought none of you would understand.” I sigh and scrub a hand
roughly over my face.
“Sit down, Son. Finish your dinner,” says my father in a tone that I can’t quite put my finger on.
I look down to see him watching me, his eyes sympathetic, understanding, and proud. He nods
and I lower myself back into my seat. Not another word is spoken. And really, nothing needs to be
said, everything is right there in my father’s eyes. When I look at my mother, it is in her eyes, too.
They understand now why I chose the path that I did and they are proud of me for it.
I glance over at my grandfather. He gives me a nod of acceptance. I breathe another sigh of relief
as the last weight that I didn’t even know was there lifted off of my shoulders. Conversations start up
again, this time anything having to do with work left out of it. Football, Carla’s dumbass boyfriend,
and my grandfather’s thoughts on kids these days were the main topics.
Since I forgot to grab anything for dessert – I blame Charlotte for that - my mother pulls out a
package of Oreo cookies that she has stashed in the cabinet. We all sit at the dining room table with a
glass of milk and a stack of Oreo’s, moaning and chewing away at the delicious treat. This may be the
first dinner at my parents’ in years that I have actually enjoyed pretty much the whole way through.
After staying and chatting for a little while longer, I make my rounds, saying goodbye to
everyone. My mother gives me a big hug and kiss, and whispers that she is incredibly proud of me in
my ear.
I shake my grandfather’s hand, give Carla a playful punch in the shoulder, then go to my dad. He
pulls me into a hug.
“I love you, Calvin. You know that, right?” My old man whispers.
“I know,” I murmur in return.
“You did good.”
“Thanks, Pops,” I smirk as he lets me go. “Hey, don’t forget poker night.”
“Hell, no! I would never miss the chance to take Nick’s and Parker’s money.” My dad laughs.
I chuckle and say one last goodbye before heading home.
Charlotte
I have a standing date with my dad every other Sunday afternoon. We have lunch, talk about our
weeks, and catch up. We both like to gossip and he always has the best stories from work, driving
the ambulance around, tending to all walks of life. We try to one up each other, me telling anecdotes
of spoiled actors or strung out models, but he always wins in the end. You can’t beat drunk idiots
with power tools or perverts with battery operated vibrators stuck in places they weren’t intended
with my mundane scandals of the rich and famous.
This week is my dad’s turn to choose the place, and he opts for a bagel place right around the
corner from my apartment. I love coming here. The bagels are always fresh because they make them
on site, and they make the best homemade cream cheese nova spread. Ooh, and the tuna. Don’t get me
started on their tuna. I am convinced that they add sugar to it because not only is it smooth and
creamy from probably an entire jar of mayonnaise, but it is also sweet. Yum! I may need to go for a
run after this meal. I am nothing like my BFF, Delilah. I have to actually work to keep my slim
figure. She is so lucky to have good genes.
I grin when I see my dad wave at me from across the restaurant. I wave back and start toward
him. He stands to greet me, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. We sit down in the booth across
from each other. I stuff my purse in the corner and prop my sunglasses on top of my head.
“Hey!” I say with a smile.
My dad, Bron Fisher, smiles back at me. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you doin’?”
My run in with Calvin the other day flashes through my mind and I shrug. “Okay, I guess,” I say
as nonchalantly as possible.
He gives me a look that says he’s not buying it. Damn it!
“Looks like you’re getting some gray hairs there, old man,” I tease, quickly trying to change the
subject.
My dad smoothes his hand over his short hair. “I’ve been turning gray, that’s nothing new. Don’t
try to divert my attention by ripping on me,” he grunts, not falling for my shenanigans. “What’s going
on?”
As I’m trying to find the words to explain, the waitress shows up. She is as stereotypical New
Yorker as they come. Something about her reminds me of zebra pants – teased hair, bright lipstick,
snapping her gum - and a tiny shiver runs up my spine. I shake it off and refocus. She takes our drink
order and says she’ll return for our lunch order. She saunters off and I glance up from the menu to see
my dad watching me expectantly. Shit! I was hoping he’d forget after getting distracted! Why does
everything I do and see remind me of Calvin?
“Shouldn’t you be getting forgetful in your old age?” I mutter.
My dad barks out one of his big booming laughs, drawing some of the other customers to turn and
look at us.
“Jeez, Dad, do you have to laugh so loud? Can’t take you anywhere,” I huff teasingly, making him
laugh even more.
I’ve always loved my daddy’s laugh. It’s always so heartfelt. And it’s definitely catchy. I can
see other people around us glancing at him and smiling. Once his laughter dies down, he reaches
across the table and pats my hand.
“Thanks, Charlie, I needed a good laugh.” He smirks, his dark chocolate eyes crinkling at the
corners.
The man looks amazing for his age, actually. He’s like Denzel Washington, just keeps looking
better and better as he gets older. Plus, black people have that fabulous skin that barely ages. Other
than some crow’s feet and the salt and pepper hair, my dad doesn’t look a day over forty.
“Come on, you know you can talk to me,” he coaxes.
I sigh, brushing my long blonde hair over my shoulder. “I’m just having some guy issues.”
All of the humor leaves his face and his mouth thins. “Did someone hurt you?”
I smile softly at his protectiveness and reach to give his hand a squeeze. “No, Daddy, no one has
hurt me. I promise.”
He relaxes and gives me a nod.
“I just…there’s this guy...he does crazy things to my heart…” I say, struggling to find the right
words to explain how Calvin makes me feel and my fears about being with him.
It’s my dad’s turn to smile softly. “That’s a good thing, sweetie.”
I sigh. “I know. It’s just that…well…he’s black.”
Eyebrow raising curiously, he stares at me for a second. “So?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve only dated white guys ever since DeShawn,” I say,
giving him a pointed look.
He nods. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” he says with a slight frown. “I’m assuming there’s more to it than I
know?”
The waitress comes back with our drinks – Diet Dr. Brown’s Black Cherry for me and a black
coffee for my dad - and takes our lunch order, then leaves us alone again. I rub the side of my face.
I’ve always been very open with my dad. We’ve talked about sex before, but it’s always hard for me
regardless. He’s my father, and no matter how comfortable we are with each other, it’s still an
awkward subject. I mean, he obviously knows I’m not a virgin, and that I am sexually active, but it’s
still weird to talk about it with him. We have no secrets, though, and I know he will always give me
the best advice. So I suck it up and try to explain it the best way that I can.
“Yeah, there is a reason I’ve only been with white guys. It’s because every time that I’ve tried to
be…intimate…with a black guy, I have this issue where I get…like…a flashback of DeShawn and
what he did to me,” I say quietly, my face hot and no doubt red.
My dad’s eyes soften. “You’ve tested this out recently? You still get like that?” he asks.
I nod. “A little over a year ago. It was actually the night Delilah met Nick. I freaked out. The
poor guy had no idea what was going on as I went running out of the room.” I snort. “It was actually
at Calvin’s club. Calvin’s the guy who has me tied up in knots.” I add softly, feeling shy and
embarrassed.
My dad notices that I am uncomfortable but doesn’t acknowledge it. Thank god for small
miracles. “So, you’re afraid that you’re going to do the same with this guy that you really like?”
I nod again. “And look like a complete fool.” I groan, dropping my head into my hands.
“What’s this guy’s name? Calvin, is it?” he asks.
“Yeah, Calvin.”
“And what is it that draws you to him?”
I lift my face and raise an eyebrow at him. “Other than him being utterly gorgeous?”
My dad grins. “Yeah, other than that.”
“He’s kind. I actually bumped into him at a coffee shop the other day. Literally bumped into him,
and my coffee spilled down the front of my shirt, which in turn became see-through. He gave me the
shirt off his back so that I could cover up.”
“That’s a gentleman right there,” my dad muses.
I nod in agreement. “He seems like the really caring type and he knows how to treat women. I
know that he’s interested in me but I’ve been avoiding him, even telling him that I’m dating his friend,
Parker.”
Bron makes a disapproving noise. Our conversation is interrupted once more by the waitress
bringing us our food. We thank her and she leaves us to eat in peace. There really is something about
her that bothers me. I probably would have never thought about it before, but man, zebra pants really
got into my psyche. Fucking Calvin. We sit in a comfortable silence as we both dig into our meals.
“I don’t understand why you needed to lie. You could have tried to explain it to him. He sounds
like the kind of guy who would have understood,” my dad says, shaking his head at me.
“Ugh! I know, I panicked! He was flirting with me and I didn’t know how else to get him to back
off. I didn’t want to be a bitch to him,” I groan.
“Listen, Charlie. If you really like this guy, you need to give him a chance. He sounds like a real
gentleman, and those are very hard to come by these days. I know you’ve been hurt in the past but you
can’t let that dictate your future. What if this guy is the one for you and you miss out because you’re
afraid to try? I understand that you’re hesitant about what might happen if you decide to get intimate
with him, but if he is a good man, a caring man, then he will understand and stick by you anyway.
That’s what real men do. Just look at me,” he finishes with a shit-eating grin and a wink.
I smile and shake my head. “You are the best man ever, Daddy. I know that.”
“Damn straight, don’t you forget it,” he says seriously and nods. “Give Calvin a chance to prove
himself. You might find the love of your life. And if not, then what the hell? At least you gave it a
shot.”
I nod. He is so right. I knew he would have the best advice for me. I do really like Calvin and he
does seem like a really nice guy. Delilah tells me so all of the time. I guess I just needed that extra
push from the man that I trust most in this whole world. Bron. My dad. My rock. My hero.
The rest of lunch is spent talking about other things, like how much my dad loves my mom’s silly
antics and her sense of humor. No doubt that’s where I get it from. My dad pays for lunch and then
walks me to my car. He gives me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“I want to meet Calvin,” he says as we separate.
I roll my eyes. “I have to see if he even wants to go out with me anymore.”
Bron chuckles. “He will.”
I shake my head, smile, and let out a little snicker. He always thinks the best of people.
Especially me. After what we lived through, and what he sees day to day at work, I don’t understand
how he stays so positive.
“I’ll see you in two weeks, daddy.” I lift up onto my tippy toes and give him a big hug.
“Not if I see you first.” He smiles and pinches my cheek as he always does when we say
goodbye.
“Love you,” I say.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
He waits while I get into my car and drive off. I can’t help but smile. I am so lucky to have the
best dad in the whole world.
Chapter Three
Charlotte
Actors are self-centered assholes. Okay, maybe not all of them, that would be a stereotypical
generalization, but there is one in particular that our agency represents that is nothing but trouble.
Eddie, my awesome boss, has to fly out today for who knows how long because he needs to visit the
set of an up and coming blockbuster movie, in order to manage this schmuck. The silver lining? I am
boss-free at work for a while. Don’t get me wrong, I still need to go to work. In fact, he put me in
charge, so I have to open the office in the morning and lock up at the day’s end, but the hours in
between will be pretty laid back. They are usually anyway, even when he is here, but it is still nice
not to have a boss around.
I set my alarm for an early start today to make sure I get to work before my usual 9:00 am. Eddie
needs to review some stuff with me before he catches his flight. I have all of his travel plans as well
as a goody bag packed for him before he gets in – some gum, a crossword puzzle book, and his iPod
programmed with his favorite tunes. I also throw in a few new manuscripts that need to be reviewed.
Who knows how long he will be gone. As usual, he is appreciative of my work ethic, and I am
rewarded with a bonus check this week. Woo hoo! Shopping spree!
It’s time for Eddie to go and we say our goodbyes. He gives me a hug and a wink, but all I can do
is giggle. He is old enough to be my grandfather, but he thinks he is still in his twenties. I have never
gotten anything but a familial vibe from him, and it’s nice not to have that worry about being
uncomfortable at work. I learned a long time ago not to shit where I eat. The only “job” he gives me
for the day is to make sure that I get audition schedules out to a few of our newbies, as well as to
Parker. It’s too early to call him, so I shoot him a text.
Charlie: Wakey, wakey, eggs & bakey!
Parker: Oh good god, woman! What do you want this early in the morning?
Charlie: Get your ass out of bed you lazy bum & come pick up your audition schedule. It’s
finished.
Parker: I don’t wanna!
Charlie: Quit your whining & do as you’re told!
Parker: Yes, mother
Charlie: Good boy. Now, when can I expect you?
Parker: Give me an hour…
Good. Now that that is taken care of, I can finish up my “to do” list so that I can scoot out of here
a little early. I have my bonus check burning a hole in my pocket and I am almost positive that there
is a new pair of shoes somewhere with my name on it.
Phone calls made to casting agencies to let them know that Eddie is available via cell phone.
Check. Scripts filed, labeled, tabbed, and put into piles according to whether or not I think they are
worthy of a second reading. Check check. Audition schedules dispersed to actors and models for the
upcoming week. Check check check. Now all I have to do is wait for Parker to get his lazy ass up
here to get his schedule so that I can jet out. Tickety tock…
I call Parker to see what the hell is taking him so long. He answers just before voicemail is about
to pick up. It sounds like he went back to sleep. If that is the case, I will kick his ass when he gets
here. If he ever gets here. I should have just told him that I would drop it off, but at the time, I was
still waiting for one other cracked out model. Shit! I hate waiting for people. I mean hate with a
capital “H.” It’s probably one of my biggest pet peeves. Why can’t people just be where they say
they are going to be when they say they are going to be there? It’s just so rude.
Since I finished everything on my checklist for today, and my boss is not here to look over my
shoulder, I pull out my iPad. Eddie bought it for me a few months ago in lieu of a bonus check for
landing a new up and coming child star. He knew that I had wanted one for a while but was too cheap
to buy it for myself. He really is such a great boss.
I flipped it open and swiped it to turn it on. A picture of my family at my college graduation from
forever ago is my wallpaper. I smile at the goofy grin on my dad’s face. He was so proud of me.
Tommy is giving me bunny ears behind my head – no surprise there – and my mom is smiling with
tears in her eyes. I sigh inwardly, remembering the good old times, when I had no bills and no real
responsibilities. Ahh...to be a kid again.
Read or play online? Read or play online? Play first, and then read. I go through my emails
rather quickly. Most of it is spam, anyway. I mean, who is sending this shit about penis pumps? And
why does some random stranger in Africa think that I believe that I was named in their aunt’s will
who left me millions of dollars? All I have to do is cash the check and send half back. Um, okay…
Not! What a scam. Sorry, rant over. I have a few emails from my mom asking me to come over for
dinner soon. And a few from Delilah. She is crazy. One email is the cutest picture of a puppy
snuggling up to a baby. The next email is the filthiest, naughtiest, most perverted joke that I have ever
read. Even I am blushing, and it takes a lot to embarrass me. That’s why I love that girl. She keeps me
on my toes.
Next, I open up Facebook and check to see if anyone posted anything good. There are a few posts
from Delilah. She put up some pictures from her engagement party. There is a cool one of me dancing
with Parker. I actually look pretty good if I do say so myself. I will have to show it to him when he
gets here. That reminds me, where is he? Asshole.
My home page is littered with book suggestions from all of the different Blogs I follow. Not only
do they post book suggestions, but also they post pictures of gorgeous male models half-naked. If my
mother ever saw this, she would have a heart attack. I one-click a few of the books that have been on
my “to be read” list, and download them. I will check them out later. Speaking of hot men, having
no boyfriend really blows. It may be time for a little one-night stand action. I wonder if there is any
chance I could go to Club M without Calvin noticing me. I am not sure if I am willing to take the
chance. That man makes my body feel things I can’t explain, just by being in the same room as him.
He is dangerous to my libido…and sanity. Damn, I am horny!
I slide my finger up the iPad rather swiftly, checking if there is anything else that I want to click
on. Nope, next.
If Club M is not an option at this time, then I have to find another way to meet someone. I don’t
need Mr. Right, I just need a Mr. Right Now. Someone who can ease the dull ache forming between
my legs. I am so sick of the bar scene, and I have heard of girls meeting great guys on the internet. I
have never tried. Do I dare? I am not spending my bonus check on one of those matchmaking sites.
Free. I need free. I Google “free personal ads” on my iPad and pages upon pages pop up. Who
knew? I start scrolling through some of them, but they are so extensive and detailed. That’s not really
what I am looking for. What happened to the good old-fashioned personal ads. Now that newspapers
are becoming obsolete, there has to be some type of classifieds online. AHA! Craigslist. Shut up,
don’t judge me!
I click on New York City and scroll until I see the personals section. There are a few categories
to sift through. “Strictly platonic.” No, I need some hot loving! “Women seeking women.” Um, nope.
Not that there is anything wrong with that, but women just don’t excite me sexually. “Women seeking
men.” Well, yeah, but I am not posting an ad. “Men seeking women.” Hmm. Would that imply that I
am looking for a relationship? I don’t want to give any dude out there the wrong idea that I am looking
for anything other than a good lay. I scroll down a little further and find “Casual Encounter.” BAM!
That’s exactly what I am looking for. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and click. When I open my
eyes, there is an age disclaimer. Damn, that was anticlimactic!
Through the waiver and more choices. Seriously? This is more difficult than getting your hands
on a discounted wedding dress at Kleinfeld. Not that I am looking to get married or anything. Just
sayin’.
I click on “m4w” and then pages and pages and pages of listing litter my screen. Holy hell!
Some have pictures attached, but many don’t. I just start at the top and look for a topic that catches
my eye.
“Rock Hard” is the first one that interests me because –hello! - what girl doesn’t want a man who
is exactly that. Rock freaking hard. I hope it is as good as promised. I would love to stop my search
at number one. I click on it and check out the ad.
I have the Viagra. Need a woman, 18-80 & able to go for hours. No picture exchange
needed. Email me so we can set a time to meet.
Hard4hours@nailyoutillyoucantwalk.com
Oh, hell no! Next! Apparently, my subject line picking judgment is way off. This time, I flick my
wrist and pick a random one my finger lands on. “Rock my World.” Okay, not too bad. Let’s open it
up and see what this guy has to say for himself.
Looking for young SWF to rock my world. I mean literally. I want to be rocked like a baby
while I dress up in a diaper and suck my thumb. Please email if interested!
The first sentence is perfect. Fitting. But then it goes all downhill. I don’t even get to the second
line before I start laughing hysterically. I just can’t… I mean, come on. It’s too much. I am actually
having trouble forming a coherent thought. Are there really guys out there who enjoy this? Better yet,
what woman wants to do this to a man? Children are hard enough work, and I’m not looking to make
any babies. I need a man. A real man. Not some diaper wearing, thumb sucking freak! Oh my god,
this is useless.
I flick my wrist one more time, now knowing that my search is completely over. At this point, I
am just looking at the ads to amuse myself while I am waiting for jack hole, er, I mean Parker, to get
here. I am going to give him a piece of my mind! I stop the page haphazardly, pick a line without
reading it, and click.
Married couple looking to add a little spice to our lives. Looking for a SHF with a little
extra junk in the trunk. Must be able to host as we live with my parents. Must be able to multi-
task. Email a pic of your ass to:
latinlover@swingwithmywife.com
On that note, I click the bottom button, closing out Craigslist. I go to my bookmarks and erase my
web history. So much for internet dating. I shut off my iPad and slide it back into my purse. I am
done. Done. No really, I am done. Where the hell is Parker?
Charlotte again…
Livid and hungry. Not a good combination. Parker finally waltzes in just after noon. He looks
relaxed and well rested; I am going to throttle him.
“What the hell, Parker?” I ask in a tone, and he knows. He just knows.
He cocks his head and flashes me his movie star, you-can’t-be-mad-at-me, panty-melting smile.
“Well, hello there, yourself, beautiful.”
I stare at him for a few beats, lost in his sexy aura. Then I snap back to reality, remembering that I
am fuming. And hungry. And horny. Shit!
“Seriously, Parker. You were supposed to be here hours ago,” I try in a less bitchy manner.
“I know, honey. I’m sorry, something came up.”
“Fine, whatever,” I say flippantly. I don’t feel like fighting with him.
“Come on, Char. I may not be married, but I know when a woman says ‘fine,’ she most certainly
doesn’t mean ‘fine,’” Parker says with a wry smile and a wink.
Dammit! When he does shit like that, there is no way I can stay mad at him.
“No, really, it’s fine.” I huff, raising my hand with a dismissive wave. Whatever, I am over it. I
just want to go home and eat. And maybe take care of a little business, if you know what I mean.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” he says warily. “So…do you have my audition schedule?”
“Of course.” I get up and head into Eddie’s office. I reach into the file cabinet that has all of the
client files in it and I pull his out. When I head back to my desk, I see that he has plopped down into
the chair in front of it.
“Comfortable?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“With you, always,” he answers flirtatiously, but I know it is harmless.
Parker and I kissed a few years ago. We were at some party and it just kind of happened. We
both agreed that neither of us felt anything. It was kind of like kissing my brother, actually. Okay, ew,
now I have that mental picture, which needs to be erased. Immediately. Kissing Tommy like that
would be disgusting. Mmmmm. Kissing. Kissing Parker. He’s friends with Calvin. Kissing Calvin.
Sigh. Oh my god, seriously, Charlie. Get a grip.
I drag myself out of that fantastic fantasy of kissing Calvin, and focus back on Parker. He didn’t
realize that my head was elsewhere because he is in his own little world, still reviewing his
schedule.
“Parker, while I have you here…”
“Hmmm?” is his response, not even looking up at me from behind the paper.
Maybe I can sneak this past him. “I kind of did something that I want to discuss with you.”
“Okay,” he responds, now giving me his full attention.
Shit! This is not going to be easy.
“I kind of told some guy that we were dating,” I say as a matter of fact, trying to make it seem like
it’s no big deal.
“Huh? Come again?”
“Yeah. This guy kept asking me out, so I told him that I have a boyfriend,” I say, scrunching up
my nose and ducking my head.
“Okay. That was a good idea. But how did I end up in the mix?” he asks, listening attentively to
my answers.
“Well, at the time, you were in the room. I just saw you while talking to him and I kinda sorta
blurted out your name.”
I slide down in my chair a little, bracing for him to yell at me. I know he doesn’t like me
throwing around his name to anyone. You never know when a reporter is around.
“My name just blurted out?” he asks, tapping his pointer finger on his chin.
“Yeah.”
I can tell the wheels are starting to turn. He is much slower to respond this time. “And this ‘guy.’
Do I know him?” he asks.
“Sort of.” I shrug.
“’Sort of?’” He parrots, nodding his head.
“Yeah, you may know him,” I say evasively.
Parker rubs the back of his neck, and then looks me dead in the eyes. “Charlie,” he bites out in
warning.
“Parker,” I whine.
Before he gets in another word, my cell phone rings. That’s odd. Saved by the bell! The only
people that call my cell are Delilah and my father. But Delilah would text me during business hours. I
open my drawer where my phone is hiding and look at the screen. I was right.
I look back to Parker and raise my finger, asking for a quick minute to answer.
“Hey, Dad,” I chirp into the phone.
“Hi, Darling. Are you at work?” he asks, his voice sounding strained.
“What’s the matter, Dad?”
I subconsciously pick some nonexistent lint off my skirt. I glance up at Parker, but he is back in
his own world, texting on his cell. My dad is silent for a few more seconds. My heart rate starts to
pick up, waiting for him to answer.
“Is it Mom? Is Tommy okay?” I ask, panic growing in the pit of my stomach.
I feel rather than see Parker’s head swing up and in my direction. I know he is looking at me. I
am sure he is concerned by the tone of my voice, but I don’t look in his direction.
“They are fine, sweetheart,” he answers calmly. “They are not why I called.”
“What is it, Dad? You are scaring me.” My voice quivers.
“Are you sitting down?” is all he asks and my heart completely sinks.
I finally look back up at Parker. He is literally sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting to make
sure that everything is okay. He is such a good friend. And he is gorgeous, too. It sucks that there is
just no chemistry between us. I listen to what my father has to say, nodding up and down like a
bobble head, as if he could see me. I “Mmhmm” him a few times, then with a shaking hand, I hang up.
I lean back in my chair, unable to keep myself completely upright. Parker and I sit silently for a few
minutes just staring at each other, a lone tear sliding down my face. I never thought this day would
come.
Some more Charlotte…
I need a drink. That’s all that I can think about right now. When Parker sees my face after that
phone call with my dad, he knows. No questions asked. He holds out his hand and just says, “Let’s get
out of here.” I take his hand, grab my shit, and lockup, without a second thought. Thank god Eddie is
out of town.
So, now we are headed “out.” I have no idea where he is taking me or what he has in store for
me. I just know that it can’t and won’t be anywhere too public. The paparazzi are ruthless, and he
can’t afford any scandals right now. Like being seen with a crying woman with mascara running
down her face. I can just imagine the headlines now: Parker Hamilton breaks up with pregnant
girlfriend. Or even better: Parker Hamilton caught with a prostitute. I laugh to myself for a second,
but not enough to snap me out of this funk.
We have been driving in silence for almost ten minutes already. He is probably afraid of saying
something that may make me start to cry again. He didn’t ask me what the phone call was about, and I
am grateful to him for that. I am not ready to tell him because that would mean that I would have to
tell him everything. And there are only a few people who know everything, Delilah being one of
them. So I do tell him the one thing that he does deserve to know.
Looking straight ahead, I say one word. “Calvin.” Well, a name, actually. Not a word.
“Huh?” he asks completely confused. And who can blame him really. I just threw that at him
from left field. “You women are crazy.” He chuckles. “You switch topics so quickly and expect us
cavemen to follow. What about Calvin, woman?”
I lean my head back against the headrest, stare at the roof, and let out a big laugh. Not just a
chortle, chuckle, or cackle, but a full-blown belly laugh. My head still leaning on the headrest, I turn
my head toward Parker and smile at him.
“Thank you. I needed that,” I tell him sincerely.
“I am glad, Char. But I am completely serious. I have no idea what you are talking about. What
about Calvin? Is that what the call was about?” he asks cautiously.
“No.” I sigh. “Calvin is the one I told.”
“Told what?”
“Oh my god, Parker! Were you listening to a thing I said to you back there?” I asked annoyed.
Parker bites out a string of curses. “No, Charlie. Tell me you are not saying what I think you are
saying.”
I shrug my shoulder. “Sorry?”
“Charlie! Calvin is going to kick my ass!” he shouts almost nervously.
“No he won’t. He respects your friendship too much,” I respond, trying to appease him.
“You better hope so,” is all that he says and the subject is closed.
That could have gone better, but I also know it could have been a fuckload worse. He is being
easy on me because he knows that I am emotionally drained. Normally, that would piss the ever
living shit out of me. I don’t take pity well, and I certainly don’t like to be thought of as emotionally
weak. I am anything but fragile. But in this instance, it totally works in my favor. Screw my pride.
We are sitting in silence once again, and it seems that we may both be deep in thought. After our
brief conversation, my mind wanders to Calvin. The last time I saw him was at our little run in at the
restaurant. I wonder if he ended up leaving with zebra pants. At that thought, a shudder runs through
me and my body shivers. I am not jealous. I am not jealous. Parker must think that I am rehashing my
phone call, so he grabs my hand and pulls it to him. He rests both of our hands, fingers intertwined, on
the drive shaft between us. We are still enjoying our comfortable silence, and I can’t help but wonder
where he is taking me. That only lasts another five minutes.
“Why the fuck are we here?” I sneer.
“Come on, Charlie. You know I can’t be seen in public, and this is the next best thing. All you
can drink. Free. Plus, he is never here this early. ”
That’s his explanation, and I am not happy. I don’t need free drinks. I need to be as far away
from him as possible. He is way too tempting, overly dangerous, and I am far too vulnerable. He
better not be here.
I rip my hand from his, a clear scowl on my face. Before I can say another word, he opens his car
door and gets out. Then he leans back in facing me with a huge smile on his face.
“Grab those two masks in the back seat, would ya? And get your fine ass out of the car.”
Charlotte, one more time…
I follow Parker into Club M like a punished toddler, dragging my feet and grumbling under my
breath. I can’t believe after spending all of that time discussing in detail the lengths that I have gone to
in order to avoid Calvin, this is where he brings me. Dick!
We walk through the solid wood doors and the cold air from the air conditioner sends goose
bumps down my arms. At least that is what I am telling myself. I don’t want to admit that being in
this close of a proximity to Calvin, knowing that I could potentially see him at any minute, is wreaking
havoc on my nerves. The same nerves that are already shot from my earlier phone call.
Parker notices that I have stopped walking. He probably also notices that my eyes are red and
puffy, and probably red rimmed from so much crying. He turns to me with a frown and whispers
reassurances in my ear that Calvin is not here, and that I will be “okay,” that he will be there for me,
be my strength. With a chaste kiss, he pulls down my mask and grabs my hand, leading me to the
club’s entrance. As we pass Monica, I don’t really hear what Parker says, but I see her nod and hand
him our in-house messaging devices, nametags, and a key. Odd.
After putting my name tag on my shirt – shit! I am still in my work clothes – and handing me the
texter, Parker walks me directly to the bar. He instinctively knows what I need. I sit on a stool by his
side, while he orders for me. I am so lucky to have a friend like him. He is still holding my hand, and
I am using his strength to keep me from completely falling apart. I never realized how important he is
to me. Suddenly, I feel bad for all of the negative things I was thinking about him today for being late,
and my eyes begin to water…again. I am a fucking mess!
Parker lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder, holding me tight. The bartender
hands me my drink and I gulp it down. Not very lady-like, maybe, but right now, I don’t give a shit. I
see Parker nod to the bartender to fix me another. As he hands me my second, I see Parker reach
across the bar and just grab the entire bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila. ‘Atta boy! Just as I start to get
comfortable in Parker’s arms, the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and a pulse strums between my
legs. What the hell? Lo and behold, Calvin just sauntered into the club. And of course, my vagina
has to take notice. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? Wow, I think I am a little tipsy.
My body stiffens as he nears us. Parker realizes why and texts me that he will be right back. He
walks over to Calvin and I can see that they are having a discussion via text messages. Calvin glances
at me, then Parker at me. Okay, so clearly I am the topic of their conversation. And it seems to be very
emotional or something. Calvin’s face looks strained and Parker is grimacing. I have no idea, but I
am definitely going to get to the bottom of it. I stand up off the bar stool and I guess the drinks were a
lot stronger than I thought, because as I try to take a step, I falter and start to wobble. I put my hands
out to catch my fall, but I never actually hit the ground. When I get my wits back, I realize that both
Parker and Calvin are holding me up. They start texting each other, but I am not privy to what’s being
said. I imagine it is something like…
Ham Bone #069: I’m going to take her up
C-dog #413: I’ll come check on u in a bit
Seconds later, with Parker’s arm thankfully still wrapped around my waist, my new best friend,
Jose Cuervo, and I head toward the stairs. I don’t have to ask where we are going, I know what’s up
there. We walk down what seems to be the longest hallway I have ever experienced, and then stop in
front of a locked door. The key! Duh! Parker ushers me in and I take a long look around. The room
looks awfully familiar, and even in my tipsy hazy state, I recognize it as the room I confronted Nick,
er, Nico. Ah, the good old days. I plop ungracefully onto the bed and take a swig of Jose. I am going
to need the liquid courage for what I am about to do. It’s time to come clean.
“Parker, you have been so patient with me. I owe you an explanation,” I say nervously. He is
standing a few feet away from the bed and I want him closer. I need him closer. Drawing from his
strength is the only way I am going to get through this.
He somehow reads my thoughts and comes to sit next to me on the bed. “You don’t owe me
anything, Char. That’s what friends are for. To support each other. Unconditionally,” he responds
sincerely, and I believe every word.
“I know. But it’s time to share my past with you. I trust you and know you will not tell anyone
else.”
“Of course not, sweetie. Anything you say gets locked in my vault. Once it goes in, it never
comes back out. Ever.” He shoots me a wry smile and I just want to hug him. So I do.
“Does this have anything to do about the phone call from your dad?”
“Yeah,” I say and look away. This is going to be harder than I thought. It’s one thing to tell him
about the phone call, but it’s another to tell him my past. It is so humiliating.
He sees that I am struggling, so he grabs my hand again, covering with both of his. I can do this. I
take another swig of tequila.
“Before I tell you about the phone call, I need to give you a little back story, so you will
understand its significance.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Okay, here goes. I take a deep breath. “I was raped.” Holy shit, I have never said that aloud
like that before.
Parker shoots up off the bed, anger emanating from every part of him. His fists ball at his sides
and his beautiful face is contorted into stone. I have never seen him like this.
“What the fuck do you mean you were raped?” He seethes.
I attempt to stand by his side to calm him down but when I do, I fall back over onto the bed. He
sees me struggle, and helps me back upright, sitting next to me again. His face is red in anger, and I
can feel the heat pouring off him.
I need to keep going. At this point, I am all in. “When I was in high school. I was raped.”
I work up the nerve to look him in the face, and I see unshed tears welling. He scoots down onto
his knees, kneeling between my legs, facing me. He lays his head in my lap. He doesn’t say a word,
so I continue.
“It turned out to be a big deal. A very big deal. I am not ready to go much more into detail than
that, but…”
I pause, needing a breather. I look down at Parker’s head in my lap and realize that I have been
running my fingers through his hair. An unconscious behavior, but it calmed me nonetheless. I take
another mouthful of tequila and continue my train of thought. Parker is still silent.
“…but, it got so out of hand that my family had to move. That’s how I met Delilah. She’s the only
other person in my new life who knows.”
Parker finally lifts his head and looks at me square in the eyes. He nods his head, letting me know
that he understands the implications. We are both quiet, until he eventually speaks, breaking our
silence.
“And where is this fucker now?”
“Prison…”
Parker lets out a breath he was holding and speaks before I get to finish. “Thank god for small
miracles,” is what he adds until I break his spell of relief.
“…for now.”
Parker propped himself up on his knees so our faces are more aligned. “What? What is that
supposed to mean? ‘For now.’”
I try to keep as calm as possible and not cry. I am so sick of crying. “That’s what the phone call
was about from my dad.”
“I don’t follow. Spell it out for me, Charlie.”
“DeShawn, the man who raped me, is up for parole.”
Calvin (finally!)
I lean on the doorframe of the room where Parker has Charlotte sitting on the bed. He is on the
floor kneeling between her legs. Dammit! That should be me. I look back at my beautiful Charlotte,
and she is bombed. When Parker texted me earlier, he said that something is going on with her today.
He said that it is something bad, but he can’t tell me exactly what, just that she is a mess right now. I
frown hard at the bottle of tequila in her hand and the way she is swaying. A shrill ringing pierces the
air. Parker jumps and reaches into his pocket for his phone.
“Hello?” He answers then almost immediately curses and rakes an irritated hand through his hair.
“Shit, I forgot all about it…I’m out with a friend…no, I can’t just leave…Goddammit…”
I wave my hand to get his attention. Parker looks at me. “I’ll take care of her,” I say quietly.
Relief flashes in his eyes. “Are you sure, Cal?”
I nod. “I got her, no problem. Go take care of business,” I assure him.
He gives me a sharp nod then says into his phone, “Tell them that I’ll be there in twenty minutes,”
before hanging up.
Parker goes to Charlotte, whispers something to her, gives her a kiss on the cheek then comes to
stand in front of me. “I owe ya one, buddy,” he says.
“It’s not a big deal,” I dismiss him, clapping him on the shoulder.
“I’ll give you a call later to see how you made out,” Parker says gratefully.
“Alright, man.”
Parker leaves me to take care of the drunken Charlotte. She’s wearing a pretty floral print poufy
short skirt and a baby pink shirt, tucked in, that matches the flowers of her skirt. She has on light tan
ankle boots to go with her modernized 50s pinup girl ensemble. Her hair is a mess, though, and she
has black streaks of makeup running down her cheeks. I quietly shut the door, closing us into the small
room. Charlotte doesn’t even look my way as she takes a swig from the tequila bottle. She hisses as
the liquid goes down. I go over to her and take the bottle out of her hand, setting it on the table next to
the bed. She doesn’t even fight me, that’s how far gone she is.
“Come on, Pinky, let me take you home,” I murmur softly, taking her hands and pulling her to her
feet.
She staggers forward, falling against my chest. She hums as her hands roam up to my shoulders.
“So many muscles,” she slurs. “I like muscles.”
I bite back a laugh and slip her mask back on. I pull mine back down over my eyes before I wrap
my arm around her waist. I guide her to the door and help her down the steps. The club is already
packed and the music is bumpin’. Tonight is Latin night. I like to do Latin night once a month and
bring in a DJ. My regulars love it.
We get to the bottom of the steps without her falling, thankfully. One song ends and Smooth by
Carlos Santana featuring Rob Thomas starts up. Charlotte immediately perks up and heads toward the
dance floor. I follow closely, praying she doesn’t fall. I don’t know what she’s doing, but I feel the
need to stay close to her to make sure nothing happens to her. She finds a fairly empty spot and starts
dancing by herself.
I’m standing there like a fool watching this woman - who I am seriously in lust with - dancing
super sexy all by herself. Her hips are swaying, her eyes are closed, and her arms are moving fluidly
with the music. She’s feeling the music and dancing as if she doesn’t have a care in the world, and she
is the only person in the room. But, damn, why does she have to be so seductively sexy while doing
it? I tug the front of my shirt down in hopes that it covers the bulge growing in my pants.
She then shocks the hell out of me when her bright blue eyes flip open and she crooks her finger
at me, wanting me to join her. I shake my head. That is not a good idea. Well, she doesn’t accept that
answer; she grabs my hand and pulls me into her. My arms instinctively go around her tiny little waist
and my thigh somehow ends up between hers. Her fingers lock together at the back of my neck and
soon we are swaying and grinding together to the sexy Latin music.
After a couple of songs of her grinding her body against mine, I just can’t take it anymore. My
body is on fire and my cock is so hard that it’s bordering on the side of painful. I have to get her out of
here. I grab her hand and drag her out of the club. Once outside, I yank off my mask and suck in a
lungful of the cool night air. It does little to help my scorched skin. I lead Charlotte to my customized
2013 Range Rover and try to get her settled into the passenger seat. I bought these two and half tons of
pure sexy a few months ago when I went to a car auction with Nick. I was really just going with him
to find something safe for Little Bit, but when I saw my baby all jacked up, I knew I needed to take
her home and show her a little TLC. Of course, it helps that I got her for pennies on the dollar. It must
have been a rental car or something because it was only a few months old, but looked like it was
ridden hard and put away wet. Not to mention the fact that she had no wheels. But with a little elbow
grease – okay, more than a little - three fresh coats of pearlized black paint, kick ass pin-striping, top
of the line Asanti wheels, a brand spanking new shiny Strut grill, Oracle halo headlights, and 3M
black out limo tinting, my baby girl is hooked up! Shit, sorry I got sidetracked a bit. There are a few
things that a man will ramble on about if you let him, and his car is one of them. What are the others?
Easy – food, sports, women, and sex. Speaking of which…
The hottest woman I have ever seen is lazily lounging in my passenger seat, and I can’t do shit
about it. Fuck me! I lean across her soft body attempting to buckle her seat belt, and out of nowhere,
she nibbles on my earlobe. My body jumps in shock and I back myself out of the passenger side as
quickly as possible. She is seriously fucking with what’s left of my will power. God dammit! When I
know I am safely out of her reach, I take a deep breath, look up into the sky, and ask for the strength
it’s going to take to not do anything I will regret. I take my time walking around to the driver’s side,
hoping to cool off a bit.
I get into the car and start it up. Charlotte is sitting next to me, giggling quietly to herself. I reach
over and take her mask off. I’ve been dying to see her whole face since we left the room in the club.
She rolls her head toward me and gives me a lazy drunken smile and a long blink.
“You’re a great dancer, Calvin,” she mutters, reaching over to run her fingers down my arm.
“Thanks,” I huff.
I swear if she keeps touching me I’m going to lose my shit.
“What’s your address, Charlotte?” I ask.
“Why do you insist on calling me Charlotte?” she asks, and I can hear the slight irritation in her
voice.
“Because it’s a beautiful name and you shouldn’t shorten it,” I answer honestly.
She studies my face for a moment. “You’re a sweet guy, Calvin. You know that?”
I snort and fight off the pleased smirk that wants to curl my lips. “Where are we going, Pinky?”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” She giggles again, completely ignoring
my question.
I laugh. “Not any time soon.”
Charlotte finally gives me her address and I type it into my navigation system. The ride to her
apartment is silent. But it’s a comfortable silence. The more time we spend together, it seems the
more comfortable we are with each other. I glance at her a couple of times during the ride. She is just
sitting there with a smile on her face and her eyes closed as she rests her head back against the seat.
I pull into the parking garage of her building and shut the car off. I get out first, go around to her
side, and open the door. Charlotte drags herself out and stumbles toward the door that leads into the
lobby.
“Thanks for the ride, Calvin!” she calls over her shoulder, her purse swinging loosely from her
hand.
I frown at her as I shut the car door and hit the auto lock on my key ring. Does she really think
that I’m going to let her walk to her door by herself? I take a few long strides and slip my arm around
her waist just as she stumbles. She laughs and grabs onto my shirt for balance.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” I tell her.
She’s still laughing. At least she doesn’t argue. I help her through the lobby and onto the elevator,
where she hits the button to her floor. She then moves to snuggle under my arm. I can’t help but pull
her closer, letting her rest her body up against mine. I press a small kiss to the top of her curly blonde
hair. Her hair smells so good. Like peaches. I can’t help but think that Parker is one lucky son of a
bitch.
Out of the elevator, we start down the hall. Charlotte stops in front of the one that says 4E and
starts to fish through her little purse for her keys. She’s still swaying on her feet and she’s making me
nervous. I’m scared that the amount of alcohol she consumed will make her throw up in her sleep or
something and she’ll aspirate. Maybe I should stay and keep an eye on her. Maybe I’m just looking for
reasons to spend more time with her.
She finally opens the door after many tries of putting her key in the lock. She walks in and just
leaves the door wide open. Jesus Christ. Would she have done that if I weren’t here? The thought
concerns me. I follow her inside and shut the door behind me. Charlotte drops her purse on the
kitchen counter on her way down the hall toward what I assume is her bedroom. I take a quick glance
around her small apartment. It is fairly tidy and decorated nicely. Pretty much what I expected from a
girl like Charlotte.
She then does a one-eighty, turning on her heel, and walks back toward the kitchen. That’s when I
catch something moving out the corner of my eye. When I turn to look where the movement is, there is
nothing there. My eyes must be playing tricks on me.
“Do you want something to drink?” Charlotte asks, as she pulls down a glass from a cabinet.
“No, no, I’m fine,” I say, completely distracted by what I just thought I saw.
She pours herself a glass of water and leans against the counter by the sink as she drinks it. I go
over to her breakfast bar and sit on one of the stools. I catch movement again, this time I swear I saw
a black tail go around the breakfast bar and into the kitchen. I frown. Maybe she has a dog? If so,
that’s the quietest dog that I’ve ever encountered.
Then…BAM…a black cat appears on the counter in front of me. I scream like the fucking girl
that I am and scramble to get away, effectively falling off the stool and onto my ass. Charlotte sprays
water out of her mouth as she starts hysterically laughing.
In the meantime, I’m climbing over the couch because the evil cat is coming at me. He’s meowing
and everything. I can only assume that he wants to eat me and take my soul. Oh, have I mentioned that
I’m deathly afraid of cats? A serious shit-in-your-pants phobia. Why? I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I
was eaten by a tiger in another life, I don’t know.
“Charlotte! Get your cat!” I yell then squeal when it jumps up onto the couch.
Of course, she’s no help because she’s too fucking busy pissing her pants!
“Charlotte!” I cry. “Come on!”
I’m now plastered to the wall in the corner of her living room with the cat closing in on me. Oh
god, I think I might actually pass out. My heart is racing a mile a minute and I’m pretty sure that I’m
about to hyperventilate. I’m gonna KILL Parker for this! He must know that she has a cat. The least he
could have done was warn me so I could have stayed in the fucking hallway. He knows how I feel
about cats!
“You mean to tell me that you don’t like my pussy?” Charlotte giggles naughtily, as she drunkenly
makes her way over to me.
“Fuck no! Please, please, please get it away from me,” I pant.
She grabs the cat just before he goes to rub his creepy little black body against my legs. She coos
and pets him affectionately. She smiles mischievously up at me, but blinks innocently. I don’t trust that
look on her face. She suddenly thrusts the cat out, practically shoving him into my face. I scream,
squeezing my eyes shut, and turning my head away. The cat meows right in my face and I scream
again. I swear to god, this is the only thing that can bring this big black man to his knees. A fucking
cat!
Charlotte bursts out laughing and takes the cat away from my face. “Aw, he just wants to say hi to
his brotha from anotha motha,” she chuckles.
“Oh, that’s fucking funny, Charlotte. I’m black, he’s black, so funny I forgot to laugh,” I sneer.
She cracks up all over again as she goes and puts the cat in the bathroom, shutting him in there.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown man so afraid of a cat before,” she laughs, shaking her head.
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything,” I mutter, as I unglue myself from the corner.
Charlotte motions for me to follow her so I do, down the hall. As I pass the bathroom, a cat paw
swipes out from under the door. “Oh, Jesus!” I exclaim and jump to get away, bumping into the
opposite wall.
We get to her bedroom and I have to take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down and try
to forget about that crazy cat. I stay standing by the door as she flips on a lamp. Her room is decorated
in deep purples and silvers. Three out of the four walls are gray with one deep purple accent wall.
Even though it’s purple, it’s not overly girly or frilly. It fits her perfectly.
Then she does something I wasn’t expecting, she starts taking off her clothes. Oh, fuck me! I stifle
a groan as her shirt and skirt hit the floor and she’s standing before me in her bra and panties. They
are a matching white lace set which I can almost see completely through. My dick instantly starts
throbbing in my pants.
“Uh, Charlotte…” I rasp, but she cuts me off.
“Why do you have to be so damn handsome, Calvin? It’s not fair,” she mumbles and saunters
over to me, still wearing her heels.
I frown in confusion. What is she talking about? She thinks I’m handsome? Charlotte stops in
front of me and presses her body against mine, her hands coming up to cup my face. I’m stunned
stupid. My breathing is coming hard and fast and I am turned on like never before. What the hell is she
doing?
Charlotte pulls me down and presses a light tentative kiss on my lips. I hear her sigh softly and I
can’t move. I can’t do anything but let her kiss me. I never thought this would ever happen, I never
thought I’d get to kiss her…ever. She presses her lips more firmly against mine and my eyes flutter
shut. Damn her lips are soft. Her arms snake around my neck as she pushes up onto her tiptoes to
reach me. The next thing she does completely undoes me and I snap. She slides that delectable tongue
of hers along my bottom lip.
I spring into action. I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her, and she instinctively wraps her
legs around my waist. She is so light that I have no problem holding her up. I pivot, slamming her
back against the wall next to the door. Our mouths collide in a savage kiss rooted in pent up lust and
unadulterated need. I swear, I’m losing my fucking mind! She even tastes like peaches, is that
possible? Oh god, I will never get enough of her; it’s not possible now that I’ve had a taste. I moan
into her mouth as our tongues fight for dominance.
I’m holding her up by the backs of her thighs. Thighs that are the perfect combination of rounded
and toned. And good lord, her skin is like silk. I would love to drag my face all over her creamy
thighs. I moan at the thought.
Fuck breathing, this woman is my air. I drag my lips down to her neck as I bring one hand up to
cover her beautiful breast. I roll my hips forward, rubbing my aching cock between her legs. Oh what
I wouldn’t give to be inside of her right now! She moans my name and that’s what actually makes me
realize what the fuck I’m doing. I’m kissing my best friend’s girl!
I gasp, setting her on her feet and extracting myself from her warmth. “Oh my god, I can’t believe
I just let that happen!” I cry, covering my face with my hands as I try to control the desire running
through me.
“What?” Charlotte asks breathlessly.
“You’re Parker’s girl! I should have never kissed you!” I say, dropping my hands to look at her.
Charlotte smirks naughtily and slips her hand under my shirt, her fingers burning my already
heated skin. “Parker who?” she teases.
“Jesus, you’re so drunk that you’re not even thinking straight,” I snap and yank her hand out of my
shirt. “If you haven’t realized it yet, you just cheated on your boyfriend and I just stabbed him in the
back,” I inform her. Plus, I don’t fucking share!
Charlotte blinks at me, not seeming to comprehend the severity of what just happened. I need to
get out of here before I give in to the temptation that she presents and kiss the fucking shit out of her
again.
“I gotta go,” I mutter and quickly make my way to the door.
Charlotte doesn’t say a word and she doesn’t follow me, either, thank god. I make sure that at
least the knob is locked before I leave. Shit, what kind of man am I that I just kissed and dry humped
one of my best friend’s girlfriends? How will Parker react when I tell him? I mean, I have to tell him,
right? My head is a mess the whole drive home. I pray that I don’t lose my friend over this. Fuck, I’m
such an idiot!
Chapter Four
Charlotte
It’s been a week since we kissed and I haven’t heard a peep from Calvin. No texts, no phone
calls, and no emails. He hasn’t even sent any messages to me through Nick or Delilah. Who am I
kidding? He probably hasn’t told anyone. I am just another in the gaggle of women throwing
themselves at him. Ugh! I am never drinking tequila again! I can’t believe I came onto him like that
while he believes that I have a boyfriend. He probably thinks that I’m a cheater and a bitch!
I have been dragging my ass to work every day as though nothing is bothering me, but inside I am
melting down. How can a kiss turn my life into such a tizzy? It was one hell of a kiss, though. Damn!
Even as drunk as I was, I still remember every second of it. I felt things stirring in me that I haven’t
felt in years. That man is dangerous to my libido.
My boss, Eddie, is still out of the office – on location at some big time movie set. I love the
freedom it allows me, but damn, it leaves me way too much time to think and dwell. There is only
one person that can get me out of this funk, so I pick up my cell and shoot off a text.
Charlie: Hey, LaLa! Wanna go out later?
I immediately receive a text back from my girl.
LaLa: Hell yeah! Nick’s at poker night tonight and there is a new wine bar I’ve been wanting to
try!
Charlie: Oh yeah? What’s it called?
LaLa: Wine O’clock! Hahahaha!
I laugh out loud, not so much at the name, but at the fact that Delilah thinks it’s so funny.
Charlie: Ok, sounds good, pick u up at 7
LaLa: Yay! See u then!
I smile, excited to get some much needed girl time. I finish up my work so that I can go home and
get ready. I figure that if I am out of the office by five, it will give me plenty of time to go home,
change, fix my hair and make-up, and get Delilah.
I scour through my closet to try to find something to wear. I don’t want to be too dressed up, but I
don’t want to look like a slouch either. I settle on a pair of black skinny jeans and a cream sequined
top with a coral colored blazer over it. I wear my cute nude peep-toe pumps to complete my outfit. I
check myself out in the mirror. My long blonde hair is down and curled. I refresh my make-up and put
on some lip-gloss. I have to admit, I am looking mighty sophisticated. Pleased with what I see, I grab
my little gold clutch purse and head out the door.
After picking up Delilah, we head over to Wine O’clock. I park in the lot that is around back then
Delilah and I make our way around the building toward the front door. There are some people milling
around out front, talking and laughing. We bypass them and walk into the foyer of the bar. The place
has a nice atmosphere, very calming and quiet, almost like a coffee shop. I hear Delilah gasp beside
me and glance over to see what’s wrong.
“What is it?” I ask.
Delilah’s eyes are alight with amusement and she is biting her bottom lip. “It’s speed dating
night,” she says and points to the chalkboard sign set up just inside the door.
“Oh, hell no!” I scoff and take a step back.
Delilah grabs my wrist. “No, come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll do it, too,” she promises.
“LaLa,” I whine.
“Charlie, it’s not like you are sleeping with these guys, but you never know, you might meet
someone you like,” Delilah coaxes.
“But you’re engaged,” I point out.
“They don’t need to know that,” she smiles naughtily.
“What if Nick finds out?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.
She snorts. “Oh, please. I’m going to tell Nick all about it, so don’t worry about that.”
I see no way out of this. Delilah is not going to let me leave. I’m starting to think that she knew it
was going to be a speed dating night. I glare at her suspiciously for a moment.
“Did you know about this?”
Delilah shakes her head and tries to be serious but fails miserably. “No, I swear!” She laughs.
“I don’t believe you,” I mutter, as the hostess signs us up.
We both get a nametag with our name and a number. Sound familiar? We also get a score sheet
booklet to help us keep track of the guys. Once it’s over, you have the option to hand in the score
sheets of the guys who you are interested in and your contact information will be forwarded to them. I
already know that no one is getting my contact information. No. One.
The hostess seats us at separate tables. Before the men are brought in, the women are all served a
glass of wine of their choice. The rules are then explained to both the men and the women. Each
“date” is six minutes long. Kill me now! What the hell do I talk about? I don’t want to share anything
personal with these guys. I’m going to kill Delilah for this!
The men are all let into the room and told where to sit. I wait for someone to sit down across
from me. I pray that it is someone who is at least cute and hopefully even interesting.
I almost choke on my wine when the first guy sits down in front of me. It’s the younger and
creepier version of Ron Jeremy, complete with an 80s porn star mustache. I have to slap a hand over
my mouth to keep from spewing my Merlot all over his face. He gives me a knowing smirk and a
small nod.
“Hey there, sweetheart. I’m Jack, Jack Mehoff. What’s your name?”
Oh no he didn’t! Jack Mehoff? Really? Does he think I’m stupid? Jesus Christ! I’m going to KILL
Delilah for this! I give him my best non-disgusted smile and point to my nametag.
“Katniss Everdeen.”
Yeah, that’s right, these jerkoffs are not getting my real name. So I picked a different name. I like
the Hunger Games; Katniss is badass, so who better than her? Delilah decided to change her name to
Hermione Granger. She thinks it will be funny to see if any of the guys can pronounce it.
“Katniss, huh? That’s different,” Jack muses.
I give a noncommittal shrug and sip my wine.
Jack leans forward and places one of his sleazy elbows on the table. He licks his pinky then
smoothes it over his eyebrow. It takes everything I have not to gag. His mouth kicks up in an arrogant
grin.
“You know, a lot of people think I look like Ron Jeremy. Do you know who that is?” he asks.
I nod and he continues.
“So you know he’s hung, right?”
What the fuck? I give him a tight smile and a nod. Why am I even acknowledging this shithead? I
really don’t want to know what he’s going to say next because I already have a pretty good idea.
“Add three inches to that, baby. Ron Jeremy ain’t got nothin’ on me,” Jack says confidently and
winks at me.
I can’t hold back the gag this time. I quickly slap a hand over my mouth. Jack frowns at me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I just threw up a little in my mouth. I’m fine,” I answer, fanning my flushed face.
Jack frowns even harder and actually has the balls to look disgruntled. Luckily, I’m saved by the
bell and he removes himself from my sight. Please, oh please, don’t let the next guy be that bad. I will
get up and walk the fuck out. I glance over at Delilah. She is covering her mouth with the back of her
hand to cover her laugh. Bitch. I am so getting her back for this.
Turning back around, I am met with my next date. I sigh and hang my head in defeat. I’m not going
to win tonight. This guy can’t be serious. His hair is jet black, parted in the middle and longer than
mine is. He has on black wrap around sunglasses and is covered from head to toe in black leather. He
creaks with every move he makes.
“Hey, what’s up,” I say, also giving him a nod.
He smiles and I have to do a double take. “I’m sorry, do you have fangs?” I ask, incredulously.
He smiles wider. “I do,” he replies, touching one of the fangs with his tongue. “They’re veneers.
Cool, huh?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, cool. What made you get them?”
He shrugs. “I believe I was a vampire in a previous life. It just feels right and normal to have
them.”
“Oookay,” I drawl. Where the hell did they find these guys?
I don’t know what else to say to the guy, but he starts talking about how he used to be a vampire,
so I try to be polite and pretend to listen. The bell sounds again and Count Dracula heads onto the next
table. I’m ready to get the hell out of here. I really don’t think I can suffer through much more of these
nutjobs. I’m resting my chin in my hand, staring off into space when the next guy sits down. I don’t
even bother looking his way. I’m sure he’s another whack job.
“You look like you’re having a ball.” He chuckles.
“Oh, yeah? Let me tell you… the last guy said he was a vampire, the guy before him told me he’s
got a bigger cock than Ron Jeremy. I can’t imagine what you’ve got in store for me,” I mutter.
He barks out a laugh. “Oh god, you poor thing. My name is Reed and I promise I’m not crazy.”
I take a chance and glance across the table. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see a normal, good-
looking guy sitting across from me. I know I should be attracted to him. What girl in her right mind
wouldn’t be? But the first thing that comes to mind is Calvin, and that Reed is the total opposite of
him. His hair is dark blonde, he has gray eyes with blue flecks in them, and the only facial hair that he
has is the little patch just under his bottom lip - pretty sure it’s called a soul patch.
He’s cute, really cute, but I come to the realization that no one is going to beat Calvin in my book.
I give Reed a small polite smile. I’m such an idiot. What the hell am I doing? I need to stop avoiding
Calvin and start owning up to my feelings for him. Reed gives me a knowing smile, catching me off
guard.
“So who’s the lucky guy?” he asks.
I gape at him. “How do you know there’s another guy?”
He smirks. “I’m not stupid, sweetheart. I can tell when a woman is pining after someone else.”
“I’m not pining,” I scoff.
“Yeah, right.” Reed snorts.
I scowl at him. “Whatever.”
He chuckles. “Does this guy know you like him?”
I purse me lips, thinking. “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.
“Let me give you a little advice on guys, just be honest and open. We are not mind readers and
rarely ever pick up on the subtle clues you women give out. If you like the guy, tell him, because he
most likely doesn’t know,” Reed says.
I blink at him for a moment. “Wow, thanks,” I say sincerely.
He nods. “No problem. If you really like him, you should tell him as soon as possible. Most guys
won’t wait around for a woman who they think doesn’t like them.”
I nod. “Okay, I will.”
The bell rings and Reed stands. “Good luck,” he says, holding out his hand. “I never did get your
name.”
I shake his hand. “Charlie.” He’s too nice to lie to.
“It was nice to meet you, Charlie.”
“You, too, Reed.”
He smiles and saunters off to the next table.
After dealing with a couple more losers, Delilah and I head out. I’ve had enough for one night
and just want to go home. Once I get there, I think over everything that Reed said. He really hit the
nail on the head. I’m going to have to give Calvin a call and admit to him that I lied about having a
boyfriend. It’s going to be painful, but it needs to be done. He deserves better than how I’ve been
treating him. Maybe I’ll even break the stereotype and ask him out on a date. I smile to myself. Won’t
that shock the shit out of him? I think that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Mind made up, I crawl into
bed and try not to dream of Ron Jeremy and vampires.
Calvin
“Full house, Aces over Kings, suckas!” I shout, tossing my hand on the table, rubbing it in their
faces. I stand up and lean across the table collecting the chips, adding them to the rest of my winnings.
“Shit!”
“Motherfucker!”
“Nice hand,” Nick offers, probably because he folded before the flop, so he didn’t lose anything
but the ante.
“Glad I was able to teach you something, son,” my dad adds with a proud smile.
“Like taking candy from a baby,” I say with a shit-eating grin.
Everyone laughs and takes swigs of their beers.
Tonight is our monthly boys’ only poker night, and it is my turn to host. Since I couldn’t get out of
work, I just booked a VIP room at Club M for us to use. Actually, it’s Nick’s old room that was
retired once he and Delilah decided to have a go at it. There’s eight of us here tonight. The usual
suspects – me, Nick, Parker, Anthony (Nick’s dad), Rick (Delilah’s dad), and my dad –and then there
are these two other dudes that I have never met before. Supposedly, they are friends of Parker’s from
his agency, but like I said, I have never met them before. I believe one is a former Disney star, and the
other a comedian on the BET channel. I haven’t decided what I think of them yet, but so far, they are
both tools. Until they prove to me otherwise, they’re not going to be invited back. Unless of course
they keep losing like this. Then maybe I will keep them around. Normally, I avoid surrounding myself
with douchebags, but if they so willingly give me their money, then maybe they do serve a better
purpose. As long as the ends justify the means, I can deal with the jack holes.
“I gotta hit the head,” Nick blurts out, “This beer…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He just
stands up and leaves to take a piss, shaking his head.
“Why don’t we all take a ten minute break?” Anthony asks, as he stands and stretches his arms
overhead.
Everyone nods and mumbles their assent, and we all push back from the table to take a breather.
“Parker, man, you think I can talk to you for a minute?” I ask, tipping my head to the side toward
the door so he understands that I mean privately.
Holy shit he reeks of booze. No wonder he is losing every hand. We slide on our masks and step
outside of the room into the hallway so none of the nosy gossiping yentas can hear our conversation.
“Sure, man. Of course. Everything all right?”
“Yeah… I, uh… I did something really stupid, bro. I am so sorry.”
“Dude, you are starting to scare me. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I…hmm…I…” I clear my throat unable to say the words. I fucking broke the bro code.
“Dickhead, fucking spit it out before I beat it out of you.”
Fucking god dammed woman. She’s got me so tied up in knots that I can’t even form a coherent
sentence.
“Dammit! I kissed Charlotte! I am so sorry, man. So very sorry.” I bowed my head, shaking it
side to side.
I am so pissed at myself for succumbing to the temptation, but god damn did she feel
unbelievable in my arms. And her lips. Those fucking pouty lips tasted like peaches. I could have
kissed her all night long and died happy. I wonder if her pussy tastes like peaches, too. Shit! Focus.
You are supposed to be apologizing, not mentally fucking her. I take in a deep breath and meet
Parker’s eyes. He is about five inches shorter than I am at six feet nothing, but I don’t see anger. Or
pain. I am not sure what emotion that is… confusion?
“What the hell are you talking about Calvin? Who is Charlotte and why would you think I would
be angry about you kissing a chick that I don’t even know?”
I fucking knew it! That little, devious, conniving, deceitful, cunning, beautiful, intelligent,
tempting, sexy – what the fuck, King! Get your shit together – liar.
“Charlie?” My eyebrow raises in question.
“What about Charlie?” he asks, and his ignorance is starting to grate on me.
“Charlie is Charlotte,” I say slowly. He is so wasted.
“I still don’t get it. What about Charlie?”
“Damn, Parker. I know you are pretty and shit, but I never thought you were this dumb.”
“Huh?”
I just stand there staring at him. I shake my head. I have to laugh. He is so drunk that he is not
even going to remember this conversation in the morning. But I need absolute confirmation.
“Are you dating Charlie? And don’t fucking lie to me or give me a bullshit line about privacy.”
“Oh, shit. I knew this would come back and bite me in the ass.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, man?”
“She just told you that she was dating me so that you would quit asking her out.”
Interesting. But of course I already knew that.
“So you are definitely not now or have ever slept with Charlotte?”
“Bro. Not a chance. My dick is as free as OJ Simpson. Oh, wait, he’s locked up, isn’t he? My
cock is as free as…as… shit. My dick’s free!”
I walk away chuckling and shaking my head again. Not sure if it’s more at Parker, or how
Charlotte totally blew me off. Now that I know Parker is not dating her, and I don’t have to worry
about all of that “bros before hoes” bullshit, she is fair game. Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong, and I
will have her.
“Aight, losers, back to the table. Time to give me more of your money!” I shout to the motley
crew and make my way back to the game. Only this time, my mind is not on the game. It’s on a game,
just not the one in front of me. Either way, I play to win.
More Calvin…
We have been playing for over an hour and everyone has broken into their own conversations as
we play a friendly tournament. The room isn’t that big, and we are at a round table, so even though
different conversations are going on around me, everyone can still hear everything anyone else is
saying.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t repeat myself by saying those two dudes that came with Parker are dill
weeds. They are hammered and they are playing sloppy. This, again, is beneficial to my game, since
my concentration is shot from my earlier conversation with Parker. Nonetheless, I am still taking
their money. But my patience is wearing thin with regards to them and their fraternity-boy,
sophomoric, crass humor, and it’s not as much fun as it was when the game began.
I try to ignore them and shift my focus to a conversation with my man, Nick.
“Yo, Bro, what’s my Little Bit up to tonight?” I ask, using my nickname for Delilah. He hates it
when I call her that. I just think he is jealous because she likes it when I use it. I can tell by the blush
that creeps up her cheeks.
“My fiancée is hangin’ with Charlie tonight.” He answers and my dick twitches just from the
mention of her. Fuck, I’m screwed!
I attempt to coerce my voice into a neutral tone and force my face into a flat affect. I probably
look like I got too many Botox injections, but I try to remain expressionless. Any sign of
vulnerability, and these ass holes will attack like sharks that smell blood in the water.
“Oh, yeah? What are those two trouble makers up to this fine evening?” I ask nonchalantly, but
even I think I sound like a desperate douchebag.
Nick shrugs. “I dunno. Some girlie shit, I presume.”
He smiles at me knowingly, like he has my number, or something else is going on that he is not
telling me. Shit! Now I am being paranoid.
I nod and process, all the while trying to come up with my next question, hoping to obtain more
information without sounding like I want more information. Either I drank way too much, or I have
really lost my mind over this broad. I open my mouth to ask Nick something, but before anything
comes out, Disney asshole speaks up.
“Are you guys talking about Charlie Fisher?” he asks, using his hands in the air to mimic her
hourglass figure.
Both Nick and I stare at the douchebag for a moment before I reply. “Yeah, you know her?”
“Do I know her?” The fucker chuckles and elbows his buddy, the BET tool. “Dude, I tapped that
bitch multiple times,” he says, high-fiving his friend.
“I tried but she wasn’t having it,” the BET schmuck frowned.
Hmm, that’s interesting. So she screwed the white fuck face, but wouldn’t do the black guy. I
can’t listen to them for another minute. How dare they disrespect Charlotte like that? You NEVER
talk about a woman that way. I don’t care who you are.
“Yo, asshole, watch your fucking mouth,” I bite out.
Disney is too wasted to care and really, I’m not sure if he even heard me. “I’m tellin’ ya, man,
that bitch is fine. She’s got this ass like…POW…and her tits, dude…”
That’s it! I can’t take another word that comes out of this shithead's mouth. I’m going to fucking
kill him! I stand up so quickly and with so much power that my chair flies out from under me and
topples to the floor. Nick and my father both jump out of their seats when they realize what’s going
on.
“Calm down C-dog, they are just drunk and talking out of their asses,” Nick says to me, trying to
get me to cool down before I end up in jail.
“Get them out, Nick. Get them the fuck out of my club and out of my face, before I rearrange
theirs.” I snarl. Laid back Calvin has definitely left the building.
Nick tells me to take a walk out of the room and not to come back for ten minutes. I slide my
mask back on and head downstairs. I take that time to do a once around the bar area, make sure the
clientele and employees are behaving appropriately, and ensure all of the anonymity rules are being
followed. I check in briefly with the new girl at the front door – Monica, my usual ball busting girl at
the door, has the night off - close out the cash register at the bar, and do a money drop into the safe in
my office. Once I feel composed – and sober – I make my way back up to the reserved poker room.
I don’t know what Nick did or said, but when I reenter the room, everyone, minus frick and frack,
is engaged in what looks like pleasant conversations. They have also started playing cards again. I sit
in the empty seat next to Parker, who is the only one not involved in a conversation. I know he knows
that I am sitting beside him, but he just stares blankly at his cards, not looking in my direction. At
first, I think he is passed out drunk, but then he speaks.
“I’m sorry, man,” he says quietly, still not meeting my eyes.
“What?” I ask, unable to understand his mumble.
“I shouldn’t have brought them. Sorry,” he says again.
“Thank you, but you have no reason to be sorry. You didn’t make them act foolish.”
“Yeah, but I knew their history with Charlie. And I also know that you are interested in her,” he
adds.
I nod my head acknowledging that I understand what he is saying. I clasp my hand on his
shoulder as I stand up. “No harm, no foul. Just don’t bring those ass clowns around anymore.”
He nods and smiles. “Sure thing, C-dog. We cool?” he asks, and I can see the sincerity in his
eyes.
I push my hand toward him and we fist bump. That’s as close as it gets with guy to guy
affection. Man hugs are reserved for extreme circumstances. This does not constitute one.
I smile back at him fondly. Nick may be my closest confidant, but Parker is like a brother to me.
“We cool.”
Chapter Five
Calvin
I woke up early this morning because I felt the need to go for a run. I need to clear my head.
Charlotte is doing a number on my nervous system. Of course, it is foggy and drizzling, so I opt for
the gym in my building. They have plenty of treadmills that I can bang this shit out of my head on.
It has been a few days since the whole poker debacle - and a lot longer since I have seen my
delectable little peach - and I still can’t wrap my mind around the enigma that is Charlotte Fisher. I
usually pride myself on knowing women – what they want, how to make them feel good, how to
extract a smile at the drop of a hat – but she has me completely stumped. Stupefied. And I don’t like
it. I need to know what she is thinking. What she is feeling. Shit, I sound like a goddamn woman.
Because of this, and because I don’t want to acknowledge what that kiss meant or how it made me
feel, I have been a complete pussy and have avoided her altogether.
I bang around in the gym for a couple of hours longer than I usually do then decide it is finally
time to get my head out of my ass and go to work. Monica is supposed to be back today and I need to
brief her about the moron that filled in for her at the front door of the club over the weekend and for
the past few days. The one I will be firing. I can’t tolerate ineptitude.
I pull into work and the parking lot is virtually empty. By dinnertime, it will be packed to the
gills. We do have clients come in and out throughout the day. They usually just want to use a private
room for a few hours. Since we pride ourselves on anonymity and discretion, we have a bunch of high
profile men – judges, politicians, city officials – that come in and take advantage of the quiet hours.
Some rent the room by the hour, and some have a standing reservation for a specific room for months
in advance. As long as they are paying their bills, it’s none of my business what they are using it for
or who they are using it with, as long as they pass their backgrounds.
I grab a bunch of paperwork and crap from my car, and head in. Of course, Monica is at the front
door. I never have to worry about her doing her job, whether I am here or not. It is nice to have
employees you can trust and rely on.
“Hey, mama, how was your time off?” I ask as I approach her.
She smiles genuinely. “Oh, it was so good! Thanks for letting me have a weekend.”
“Well, don’t get used to it.” I chuckle. “That replacement you trained sucked balls. She’s out.”
“Shit, sorry Calvin. I really thought she could handle it.”
“Not your fault, hun. But no more night’s off ‘til we can find someone as good as you!” I say in
all seriousness, but wink at her, trying to soften the blow that I just told her she couldn’t take another
night off anytime soon.
“I understand. So, how was your weekend? Poker night, right?”
“Yeah, it was cool. I had fun with my boys. Took a bunch of their money.” I chuckle at the
memory of Nick’s face when I won the biggest pot of the night against him. Why he would go all-in
with a pair of sevens is beyond me. He must have thought I was bluffing. Asshole!
When I come back to the present, I remember my manners. “Did you do anything fun?” I ask her.
At this point, I really don’t care. Not to be an ass or anything, but discussing information
regarding her personal life is not a line I want to cross. I like the friendly banter, but ultimately, I am
her boss, and I need to keep clear boundaries. I also don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I would
never screw an employee! That’s all Nick! Ha! I crack myself up!
“Actually, yeah, I had a great weekend! I went to check out that new wine bar that just opened.”
“Uh huh. Okay, was it nice?” I feign interest.
“So much fun. They were having a speed dating night, so I decided to join in for the hell of it.”
“Sounds interesting.” I throw in there. Is she done talking yet? She is a great employee, but
damn, does she ever shut up?
“That wasn’t the interesting part…” she says like she has a secret.
I quirk an eyebrow at her but don’t say a word. If she wants to tell me she can, but I am not going
to beg for information. But then she answers my eyebrow. And it’s the last thing I expect to hear. I am
knocked on my ass!
“I ran into your friend there. The one that just got engaged to Nick…” is all she says and my
blood begins to boil. Why is Delilah at a singles’ bar?
“No way. Are you sure it was her?” I ask not believing her. She must be mistaken.
“Yeah, Cal. She was there with that girl that she always comes here with. The curly blonde with
the rockin’ bod.”
“Charlotte?” I ask. No way would she do that. She could have her pick of men.
“No, that doesn’t sound familiar.”
I take a breath of relief for a second before my brain kicks back in.
“Charlie?” I ask this time, knowing that is the nickname she goes by here at the club – and
everywhere else. God damn, Charlotte! She is supposed to use an anonymous nickname, not one that
anyone outside of these four walls could track her down.
“Yeah! Charlie.” Monica exclaims, proud that she figured out the puzzle. Little does she know
that I am freaking the fuck out on the inside. Son of a bitch!
I hand my shit to Monica and tell her to put it in my office. I tell her I won’t be back until tonight
and walk the fuck out the door. I need to talk to Nick. Now. But how the fuck do you tell your best
friend that his fiancée is speed dating at singles’ bars? Shit. Let’s hope he doesn’t shoot the fucking
messenger.
More Calvin…
I walk through the maze that is the Santino Law Firm and make my way to Nick’s private wing.
As soon as Delilah spots me, she jumps out of her seat from behind her desk and steps into me, giving
me a tight hug. She has a huge smile on her face, genuinely happy to see me. I tamp down my anger
toward her and hug her back. It’s so hard being upset with someone so wonderful. I need to speak to
Nick and get to the bottom of the situation before I do or say something to Delilah that I would regret.
“Hey, Little Bit. Your man available?”
She smiles back at me with such affection, my heart starts hurting for all of the bad things I was
thinking about her on my way here.
“Of course. Always for you,” she answers and lets out a cute laugh snort. She is so awkwardly
adorable. I totally get what Nick sees in her. They are perfect for each other. Shit! Am I going to
crush their relationship by what I am about to discuss with Nick? Fuck, I’m an asshole.
I let out a small chuckle. Partly from her comment about him always being available for me -
even though he is the busiest motherfucker I know - and partly from the nose snort.
“Yeah, I guess he is. He’s either at work, or I know I can find him with you,” I say and wink.
Delilah blushes but then shakes it off. I love flirting with her, even though I know she is
completely committed to Nick. At least I think she is. Shit!
Delilah heads back behind her desk and picks up her phone. She calls to Nick through her
intercom.
“Hey, babe?”
“Yeah, Doll,” Nick answers in his “personal” voice. I have never heard him be anything but
professional in his office, and for a second, I am caught off guard.
“There is a big, strapping man here to see you,” Delilah tells him, and I notice she is sporting a
wry smile.
“Is he about six five, black hair?” he asks, playing her game.
Delilah looks me up and down, checking me out. Then looks me in the eyes before speaking.
“And handsome. Very handsome.”
“Delilah…” He bites out in warning.
“Yes, Boss?” she asks coyly, but knows she is dancing toward the line that will get her into
trouble.
“Send him back, please.” Nick requests politely, but we both know he is becoming impatient.
I see a glint in Delilah’s eyes and now I know she is doing it all on purpose, just to rile him up.
“You mean I can’t keep ‘em?”
“Delilah...” Nick barks and I know he is done with the game.
I step around Delilah’s desk, gently take the phone from her, and hang up.
“I better go in there before he comes out and drags us both in by our hair,” I say jokingly.
Delilah chuckles and shocks the hell out of me with her next statement.
“That may not be such a bad thing.” Then she winks at me. She fucking winks at me!
“On that note…” is all I can get out before opening the door to Nick’s office and walking in.
Calvin still…
I saunter through Nick’s office door still chuckling at my exchange with Delilah. I love her
newfound self-confidence. I falter for a moment when I realize it could be some other dude giving it
to her.
Nick is sitting behind his desk, staring at a thick file in front of him. He decided to practice
criminal law the same semester I decided to drop out. In fact, it was the same exact case we were
studying that sent us in two opposite directions. He still felt as though he could change the legal
system that I ultimately gave up on. All of these years later, Nick Santino is considered to be the top
criminal attorney in New York, and is ranked in the Who’s Who throughout the country. Pretty
impressive, right?
“Nick,” I greet him with nod.
He looks up at me from his file. “Shit. What’s wrong?” he asks knowing that I am not myself.
That’s the good and the bad about having a friend that can read you so well. There is no getting
anything past him. I lower myself into the chair in front of his desk, facing him.
“Why do you assume something is wrong?” I ask a bit defiantly.
Nick leans forward in his chair and steeples his hands, leaning them on the desk in front of him.
“First of all, you are sitting in my office in the middle of the day, when I know for a fact that you
need to be at work.”
“Whatever, I have been to your office plenty of times before.”
“Be that as it may, add in the fact that you called me Nick – not Nico, my man, or bro – and I
know that something is up with you. So I will ask one more time, what’s wrong?”
“My man, I don’t know how to even have this conversation with you.” I say dejectedly, unable to
look him in the eyes.
“Dude, you are freaking me the fuck out. Just say it, and look at me, will ya?”
“You want me to just fucking lay it out there?”
“Hell yeah! Rip the mother fucking band-aid already!”
“Okay, dude, but don’t shoot the fucking messenger.” I rub my hand up and down my face, trying
to relieve some stress. I love Delilah like a sister, but my loyalty ultimately lies with Nick. This is
going to devastate him.
“Fucking say it, Cal!” he is completely exasperated with me and I really don’t blame him.
Shit! I can’t put it off any longer. I turn to look at Delilah and she is doing work on her computer,
not paying us any mind. The guilt settles in my stomach and I feel the bile rise in my throat.
“She can’t hear us, right?” I ask quietly, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at her through the
glass.
“No. Is this about her? Just fucking spit it out.”
I let it out quickly, being the band-aid ripper he asked for. For a split second, I regret my
decision to tell him, but I know that I would never forgive him if he kept this kind of information from
me. As I allow the words to roll off my tongue, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth, my stomach roiling
from the anxiety of telling my best friend his girl hasn’t been faithful.
I take a deep breath, not knowing how this is going to go. “Delilah is cheating on you.”
Nick leans back in his chair, puts his hands behind his head, and swings his legs up onto his desk
in a completely relaxed position.
“Nope, not my LaLa.”
“What? Nico, dude, come on.”
“Nope, not possible,” he denies it again.
I shake my head. Saying it once was bad enough, I am not saying it again.
“You know how much I love her. Why would I make something like this up?”
“I didn’t say that I think you are making anything up. I just think you are mistaken.”
I know the best way to get through to him is to speak his language, take all emotion out of the
equation. He needs facts.
“I have a witness,” I add resigned.
He swings his legs off his desk, and sits forward again. “You have a witness? Now you have my
attention.”
“I do. Monica.”
“Your front door girl?”
“One in the same.” I nod.
“And she personally witnessed Delilah screwing another man?”
“No, I never said that.”
“Kissing, then?”
“Hmmm, she didn’t say that either.”
“So, what did Monica – your star witness - say that leads you to believe that my perfect fiancée
is cheating on me?” he asks while looking at her lovingly.
“She told me that she saw Delilah and Charlotte at a speed dating bar while we were playing
poker,” I tell him and hope it doesn’t hit him and then flip out on me.
“So Monica saw Delilah and Charlie kissing?” That I would like to see. Once. Because I don’t
share – with a man or woman.
I rub my face in aggravation again. What the hell? Does he think this all a joke? I hear him
snickering so I look back up at him through my hands.
“What the fuck, man?”
“Sorry, Cal. I can’t see you suffering anymore. I knew all about this. She texted me from the bar
that night to make sure I was okay with all of it going on.”
I stare at him in disbelief. I don’t know if I am more surprised that he let her pretend to speed
date these guys, or the fact that Charlotte was with her.
“Fuck, man. You don’t know how hard it was for me to come to you and tell you all of this. You
know how I feel about my Little Bit.”
“I’m sorry, C-dog.” He chuckles. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate you having my back. I mean,
I always knew that you would, but it’s good to know that when your loyalty is tested, I can always
trust that yours lies with me. Just so you know, I would have done the same for you….”
“Thanks, man,” I interrupt, but that doesn’t derail him.
He must be feeling like an emotional pussy after what we just shared, because he continues his
train of thought, getting in that final jab.
“…If you ever get a woman,” he quips.
“Ha fucking ha ass wipe.”
I lean back in my chair and stretch out my legs. I extend my neck, cracking first to the left then
the right, needing to release all of the tension I have been holding onto. Now that I have his situation
under control, and my stomach no longer feels like it is in my throat, I change the focus to my pathetic
personal life that Nick so graciously pointed out, and my irrational fascination with one, Charlotte
Fisher.
“Tell me… what’s the story with Charlotte?” I ask, trying to feel out if Nick knows anything that I
should know.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s her deal?”
“With regards to what?” the evasive fucker asks.
“I flirt with her, show interest, attempt to ask her out, but she completely shuts me down. Then
she does this whole speed dating bullshit. Is she racist or something? Does she hate black people? I
just don’t get it.” I raise my hands, palm to the sky in question.
“What are you talking about?”
“Charlotte. Is she a racist?”
“Why would you even ask that?”
I take a shaky breath and start. I can’t believe I am telling him this shit.
“A few reasons. First, I am always flirting with her, and she seems responsive. But at your
engagement party, I asked her to dance and she completely froze up on me; wouldn’t even look me in
the eyes. Then she gave me the ultimate blow off by telling me that she is dating Parker. And I know
for a fact she is not dating Parker because I asked him directly.” I pause for a minute to compose my
thoughts. I am completely rambling.
I feel like such a pussy. We haven’t spoken about “feelings” since last year when he told me he
was in love with Delilah that day on the basketball courts. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think I
have ever shared my feelings about a woman with Nick, or anyone outside of my parents and sister. I
must really like her. Crap.
Nick doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “I know she is attracted to me, because we… well, let
me just leave it at that. I know she is attracted to me…” I trail off, not wanting to tell him that we
kissed or that I had the opportunity, albeit brief, to have my hands on her beautiful breasts. Not yet at
least. Interestingly, if this were any other woman, I probably would have. But with Charlotte, it just
feels different. Special maybe.
I take another breath and look back at Nick. He is listening attentively.
“I still don’t understand why that makes you think she is racist. Maybe she just doesn’t want to
date you. Attracted to you or not,” he throws out there.
The rational part of my brain agrees with him. Not that I am anything near being rational at this
point. I need a tangible reason for why she won’t go out with me and then lie about dating another
man. Between the kissing, and the way her body reacted to mine, I can clearly tell that she wanted
me. That she wants me. So what’s the freaking problem?
“Okay. So what about this? At the poker game… those god damned assholes?”
“What about them?”
“Oh, come on, Nick. She fucked the white guy but rejected the black one?”
Nick “hmms” and I think I got him on that one, but he still disagrees with me.
“I see your point, and how that could look bad. Sorry, but Charlie is not racist, my man.” He
shrugs and shakes his head.
“How do you know, bro? It’s my turn to need evidence. Something concrete.”
“Why is this so important to you? If you think she is racist, then move the fuck onto the next
woman. You can have the pick of the litter. Every woman you encounter wants you.”
I groan and swipe my hands up and down my face in frustration. “I can’t explain it. I want her. I
want Charlotte. And not for just one night.”
“Then go for her, man. She is not a racist.”
I stand up from the chair and start pacing. I feel like we are talking in circles. “But how can you
be so sure?” I ask over enunciating each word.
“Her father is black,” he says as a matter of fact.
I spin around on my heels and look him dead in the eyes. I didn’t even notice he had stood up as
well.
“What? Her father is…” I don’t even finish my thought before Nick chimes in.
“…Black.”
“What do you mean her father is ‘black’?”
“He’s black. B-L-A-C-K. Black.”
“Black?” I ask again, shaking my head, unable to process the information properly. I drop back
into the seat I was in previously. I am so confused. That was the last thing that I ever expected to
hear.
“Yes, Calvin. Black. African American. Ya know, the opposite of white. Definitely not
Caucasian. Her father is black, Cal.”
I let the information sink in, my brain flooded with more questions. I am struck silent for a minute
or so before it dawns on me. My eyes bug open and I look back to Nick who is still quietly laughing
at me.
“Charlotte’s father is black,” I state, no longer questioning him.
“Mmm hmm. Yup,” is all he mutters, his eyes amused at my befuddled state.
“So, that means Charlotte is… bi-racial?”
Nick barks out a laugh. So loudly that I can see Delilah look at us through the glass wall, her
eyebrow quirked in question.
“Sorry, dude. No, she is not bi-racial. Her dad adopted her when he married her mother. Her
biological father was killed in the line of duty.”
I start to ask more questions but he raised his hand at me in a “stop” motion.
“That’s all I know. And I only found that out because I walked in on the tail end of a
conversation between her and Delilah. Charlie is very private when it comes to her past. Delilah told
me to leave it and not ask, so I respected that. The rest you are going to have to find out on your own.”
This conversation has been very serious so I decide to lighten it up a bit. Bring back laid-back,
easy-going, Calvin.
“So she has no black in her?” I ask, setting Nick up.
“Nope, she has no black in her,” Nick answers, totally off his game. It’s not like him to not pick
up what I am putting down.
“Guess I am going to have to solve that problem!”
I let out the punch line with a “bada bing” and Nick almost falls out of his chair laughing so
hard. I can’t help myself and I just laugh along with him. It feels good. I have been so stressed,
confused, and worried, that it feels freeing - cathartic even.
We are laughing so hard that I don’t hear the door open until Delilah speaks up. “What are you
two bitches cackling about?”
Nick and I look at each other and he nods, knowing what’s coming next.
“Hey, Little Bit…”
She doesn’t even let me finish before interrupting. Typical woman!
“I don’t even want to know what you two perverts are about to ask me. Nick, you have a client
on hold. Social time is over,” she says with a big smile.
“I’m out,” I announce. That was enough emotional vulnerability shit to last me a lifetime. I fist
bump with Nick and say a quiet “thanks.” He nods in acknowledgement, knowing how difficult it was
for me to spill my guts. I head to Delilah and give her a kiss on the cheek before I head out the door
and back to work.
Time to come up with a plan to make Charlotte Fisher mine. First up, get her to go out on a date
with me.
Chapter Six
Charlotte
You are cordially invited to attend a government clusterfuck in which you will have the
opportunity to rehash agonizing memories, come face to face with the man who raped you, and then
relive the worst day of your life. Oh, yeah, and after you spill your guts, we may let said man free. To
roam the streets. With you. Like it never happened.
Well, maybe it doesn’t say that exactly, but it might as well. I finally received the notice for
DeShawn’s parole hearing a few days ago, and I can’t stop reading it. Over and over. Yet, I can’t
seem to process it. How could they possibly let him out of prison after what he did to me? After what
he did to my family?
The parole hearing is less than a week away and I haven’t a clue what I am going to do. I am
normally so decisive. I am not a hem-and-hawer. I don’t waffle. I make up my mind and stick to it.
No regrets. But, now, I just don’t know. I feel lost. I can’t decide if I even want to go. In fact, I have
been avoiding Delilah for days now because I know she will sense something is wrong and I am not
sure if I want to tell her about this whole thing. She will insist that I go, and then insist on coming
with me, and I don’t know if I want her to see or hear what is going to be said. She may be the one
person I told about my past, but she still doesn’t know everything. It’s bad enough that I also spilled
my guts to Parker. I didn’t tell him the whole kit and caboodle either. I just hope he doesn’t tell Nick
or Calvin. I know those three are thick as thieves. And if Nick finds out, shit. He can’t keep a secret
from Delilah to save his life.
I am brought back to reality when my work phone rings.
“Good afternoon. Top Talent. This is Charlotte.”
“Hey, sweetie,” says the voice I can never mistake.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“I am at work, so I need to make this quick, honey. I am putting in for my time off next week.
What time am I picking you up and should I take off any extra time?”
“Huh?” I am completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Wednesday,” he responds calmly.
“Wednesday?”
“Charlotte. The hearing. What time do I need to pick you up to make sure we get to Harlem on
time?”
A cold chill shoots up my spine from simply hearing the word “Harlem.”
“Daddy,” I whine, “I haven’t decided if I am even going.” If I was standing up, I would probably
be stomping my foot like a spoiled teenager.
“There is nothing to decide. We are going. All of us.”
“What do you mean, ‘all of us’?” I ask nervously.
“You, me, Mom, and your brother, Tommy.”
“You guys don’t have to come. I will deal with it.”
“I know we don’t have to come, sweetheart, we want to. We want to be there for you. To support
you.”
“Fine, but I don’t want Tommy there. He has been through enough with this shi - stuff- already,
and I don’t want him reliving this nightmare. God only knows what is going to happen or come out at
the hearing. Plus, he is in his last year of college and I want him focused on his studies.”
“Charlotte,” my dad grinds out.
“Those are my terms, dad. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.”
“You drive a hard bargain, young lady. It’s a deal. I will talk to Tommy.”
“Okay. See you next week.”
“Bye, sweet girl.”
More Charlotte…
We make it to the courthouse with a little extra time to spare. I need a few minutes alone to get
my thoughts together. I excuse myself to the restroom and let my parents know that I will meet them
inside. God bless them, but they have been up my ass for the past few days, calling and texting
constantly. And driving in with them from The City was exhausting. My mom kept pretending to check
her lipstick in the flip down mirror, but I know she was keeping her eyes on me. Like they were
worried I was going to chicken out and disappear into the back seat. Or take a flying leap out the
window of a moving vehicle. Crazy.
However, they know it, and I know it. Once I make a decision, I stick to it. And I decided that I
am going to go to this stupid meeting, and I am going to tell them everything. I mean everything. And I
am sure there will be a few people who are not going to like what I have to say.
I look at myself in the bathroom mirror one last time, giving myself a little extra pep talk. You
can do this, I repeat to myself a few times. I push off the sink and head out. One foot in front of the
other, I walk through the doors of the courtroom. It’s not a courtroom per se, but it is set up like one,
and we are in the courthouse, so I guess technically, it is a courtroom. Now I am babbling. I scan the
room for my parents and they are sitting on the right side of the room, in the front row. Seriously?
I take a seat between them and take a deep breath. I can do this. I hear the door behind me open
and close a few times, but don’t bother to turn around or look to see who is coming through it. It
doesn’t matter who it is anyway. I am going to say my peace and get the fuck out of Dodge. I hear a
different door all the way to the left side of the room, but as before, I don’t look. I hear chains rattling
loud enough to know that DeShawn has arrived from prison. Thankfully, it’s only minutes later when
the doors at the front open and the parole board shuffles in. Four men, one woman. Strangers holding
my fate in their hands. Again.
The board member in the middle speaks briefly to the captive audience, letting us know that
anyone who wants to speak will have the opportunity. Whether it be in support of DeShawn’s release,
or against. As I finally look to my left and to my right, I am hoping that these strange faces are more
of those who are opposed.
A couple of people speak. I am not really paying attention. I just keep reviewing in my head
what I want to say. What my point is. What my goal is. I want to make sure that I speak clearly and
precisely. I don’t want to get emotional - no crying. I want to state facts. I want to show my strength. I
need them to hear me. I need them to see me.
I know my time has come as the board addresses us again. “Before we open statements to the
public here, we would first like to hear from the victim.”
Before I am able to stand, my mom gives my hand a good squeeze, and my dad leans over,
whispers what I need to hear, giving me his strength. I rise slowly from the bench and make my way
to the aisle where a lectern has been set up. I straighten my back, hold my chin up high, and begin.
“Good afternoon, sirs and madam. My name is Charlie Fish…” I stop mid-sentence when I
realize my mistake. I clear my voice and begin again. “…Ahem, excuse me. My name is Charlotte
Miller. And with all due respect, I am not the victim, I am the survivor. Because that is all I have
been doing this past decade. I was barely a teenager when this man raped me. He took a lot of things
from me that day, my innocence being one of them. He also took my ability to trust and my capacity to
love. And tragically, left me with a fear of black men.”
I choke up when that comes out of my mouth. I don’t know where it came from. I have never
actually said those words out loud. I mean, I haven’t been able to be intimate with a black man since
the rape, but I never thought I was fearful of all black men. What the fuck! Then the realization of
what I just said devastates me. I turn to my father who continues to look lovingly at me and mouth the
words “I’m sorry” to him. He nods in understanding, but then smiles at me, urging me to continue.
That man loves me unconditionally, and I could never have asked for a more perfect father.
“There’s one more thing that disgusting excuse for a human took from me. Something so
devastating to a girl, that it alone should keep his sorry ass locked up for the rest of his life. After the
night when DeShawn raped me – I keep emphasizing the word rape so no one in this room can forget
what he did to me – I started having nightmares. Every night. They were so vivid and so scary, that I
started sleeping in my little brother’s room. My poor little brother, who at the tender age of eight, sat
through the trial of the man who raped his big sister.”
I shake my head briefly, getting myself back on track, take a breath, and continue. “After about
two weeks, I was able to start sleeping by myself again, as long as the lights were on, of course.
Anyway, it was just around that time when one night I started screaming at the top of my lungs, pain
searing through my stomach like I had been stabbed. I folded myself in half, unable to tolerate the
agony I was in. My loving and supportive parents came running in to check on me, as I was unable to
straighten out my body. My father immediately called 911.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to contain my emotions. What I am about to tell
this room full of strangers has never left my lips before. The only people who know the whole truth
are my parents. Tommy doesn’t even know. Thank god I told him not to come.
“By the time I got to the hospital, the paramedics had given me medicine to dull the pain. It was
unbearable.”
I grab my stomach subconsciously and rub it, trying to make the pain go away; however, the
devastation that occurred can never be soothed.
Nobody interrupts me, so I take another deep breath and continue. “I remember that day like it
was yesterday. The look on the doctor’s face when he read the results. The pity in his eyes. The sound
of my mother sobbing in the corner. The tears streaming down my father’s face. Over a decade later,
and I just can’t erase the memory of it all.”
I haven’t even looked in DeShawn’s direction since the hearing started. I have no idea what he
looks like or what he is wearing, I couldn’t bring myself to look; nevertheless, I know that the next
thing I have to say needs to be directed at him, not the parole board. My father knows what is
coming, so he slides to the end of the row, grabbing and holding my hand. I turn my body to face
DeShawn, and look at him for the first time since that fateful night. What was once a handsome, young
athlete, has been replaced by a disgusting thug, with a face covered in prison tattoos. If I could bring
myself to feel anything, it would be pity. Fortunately, I feel nothing, which is exactly what he
deserves. I look him in the eyes, square my shoulders, and carry on.
“That was the day that I found out I was pregnant.” DeShawn’s eyes go wide, but that’s not what
has caught my attention. It was the loud gasp from the back row that has me turning around.
And there it is. My sanity. My rock. My stubborn, pig headed, never listens to me, best friend,
Delilah. Her hand is covering her mouth, tears streaming down her beautiful face. But that’s not all I
see. She is encased between two devastatingly handsome men; Nick, whose jaw is locked tight, his
eyes cold as ice, staring at DeShawn; and Parker, who looks like someone just shot his puppy.
How’d these bitches find out? Thank god they’re here.
I turn back around, needing to finish what I started. “The rest of the details of my hospital visit
are not really much of importance at this point. What you should know, is that an innocent life, which
was in fact conceived from evil, was lost that night. An ectopic pregnancy is what they called it.
Resulting not only in the loss of the fetus, but also my left fallopian tube. With massive scarring
throughout my right tube, the doctor informed me that I would never be able to get pregnant. Try
telling that to a young girl, who has only dreamed of getting married and starting a family.”
It is time to wrap this shit up and go home. I turned back to the board members to address them.
“I said when I first stepped up here that I am not a victim. I am a survivor. And as of about, oh,
two minutes ago, I became neither. I am healed. I am no longer lost. I am whole. After today, as
soon as I walk through those doors behind me, I will never speak of this again. I will never think
about this again. This never happened. I will begin to live my life to the fullest. I will not live in fear.
I will embrace my family, my friends, and anyone worthy of being in my life. I will trust freely. I will
love openly. And I will do it all with an unburdened heart, free of the heavy weights which have been
holding me back and dragging me down. Don’t get me wrong; the things that I am spouting may sound
all kumbaya, but I still want this child-raping, virginity- stealing, dream crushing, cocksucking, filthy
animal to rot in prison. Excuse my French and thank you for your time.”
I turn toward my father just in time for him to stand up and give me the bear hug that I need. He
tells me how proud of me he is and we sit back down. My mom grabs me as soon as I get close and
plants a wet one on my cheek. I couldn’t feel more loved. We sit in silence as a few more people take
the lectern to have their say. I am startled for a second when my ass vibrates, and then remember that I
shoved my phone in my back pocket when we got here. I pull it out to see a text from Delilah.
LaLa: I love u!
Charlie: luv u 2
LaLa: I am so proud of u :)
Charlie: Thx :(
LaLa: no sad face. U rocked!
Charlie: lol. It is what it is
LaLa: Come on char, u are the strongest girl I know
The tears I’ve been holding back slowly start to roll down my cheeks. Dammit, I was good until
this. To hear words like that from my best friend in the world mean everything to me. Bitch.
Charlie: Thx, La
LaLa: Now, about that embracing life u mentioned
Charlie: Oh, shit. What?
I stifle a groan and roll my eyes. Where is this going?
LaLa: 2 words. Calvin King
A slow smile crawls across my face. Leave it to Delilah to know exactly what I’m thinking.
Charlie: His fine black ass is mine
LaLa: Ha! Now ur talkin! Let’s blow this popsicle stand
Charlie: Meet u outside in 5
I lean into my father and whisper in his ear that I am leaving and that Delilah will see that I get
home safely. I tell him that I can’t stand to listen to one more person speak in support of his release,
and I don’t want to breathe the same air as him anymore. He completely understands and gives me the
permission to leave I was secretly praying for. A few hugs and kisses later from my parents, and I am
out of this joint.
I step outside and the sun is shining brightly, completely polar opposite from the dark and dreary
room we just came from. My mood lightens immediately, and then a sudden panic sets in about what I
just shared. What my friends just heard.
I look up at Delilah, Nick, and Parker who are already waiting for me. Smiling. I look into their
eyes and see nothing but love. Open arms. No judgment. My salvations.
Calvin
Where the hell is everybody? I’ve called Nick and Parker multiple times, and I’ve tried Charlotte
and Delilah a couple of times. No one has picked up. It’s been hours since I’ve spoken to anyone. I
can’t imagine that everyone is so fucking busy at the same time that they can’t answer their damn
phones. So what could have happened to them? Were they out together and got into a car accident? I
hate not knowing! I finally had to quit calling because I had to get ready to go to the club, which is
where I am now, stewing in my agitation.
I am in my usual spot overlooking the crowd then I see the four of them walk into the club. They
are all smiling and having a good old fucking time as they head over to the bar. Nick is wearing a
plain black mask. Parker…fucking Parker is wearing a goddamn Batman mask…asshole. Delilah’s
mask is red and black, and Charlotte’s is silver, which does nothing to hide her incredible crystal
blue eyes.
I set up a group text on my device; something that not many people in the club know is possible to
do. But I’m the boss; I can do anything I want. I send my first text to my friends as I start toward them.
C-dog #413: Where the hell were the 4 of u all day?
They all look at their devices at the same time then look around at each other in confusion.
Nico #812: Where u at C-dog?
C-dog #413: Right behind u
Nick turns to look at me as I come up behind him.
Ham Bone #069: How are we in a group message?
C-dog #413: I’m the goddamn owner. I can do what I want. Now someone had better answer my
first question
I glare at the four of them from behind my navy blue mask. Charlotte is looking beautiful in a
modest floral print dress. I’m having a hard time taking my eyes off her.
Charlie #228: Sorry, I had something to do & I couldn’t answer my phone
I meet her eyes, which are silently asking me not to ask any more questions. I give her a small
nod and she seems to let out a breath she was holding. I frown. I can’t imagine what that was about.
C-dog #413: And the rest of u?
Nico #812: I was in court
LaLa #128: My phone died
Ham Bone #069: Audition, my man
I narrow my eyes at all of them. I can tell that Delilah is lying because she won’t look at me. And
Parker is possibly lying, too, because he’s giving me one of his nervous smiles from behind that
stupid Batman mask. Nick is looking me square in the eyes, so he’s telling me the truth, and Charlotte,
even though she didn’t tell me exactly what she was doing, she is telling me the truth. I’m still curious
as to what is going on, but at least I know they are safe.
C-dog #413: Hammy, what the fuck is up with the Batman mask?
I can no longer hide my smile, he looks freakin’ ridiculous. Parker laughs and just gives me a
shrug. I shake my head. Idiot.
A commotion coming from the direction of the front entrance pulls my attention away from my
friends. Someone is yelling and screeching. I can see Monica chasing after whoever it is. I finally get
a clear view of the culprit to see the chick from the coffee shop and an overly tanned, The Situation-
wanna-be following closely behind her. No mask or messaging device. Clearly, not on the approved
list for entry. Maybe I need to beef up security at the front door. Oh hell no, not in my club. She’s
not going to bring this childish shit here. I start toward them, knowing Nick, Parker, Delilah, and
Charlotte are following me. As I come up to them, the dude, who is about a foot shorter than I am,
tries getting in my face.
“What is this I hear about you fucking around on my sister?” he says to my chest.
Speaking in my club is absolutely forbidden. If I wasn’t pissed before, I am livid now. “You
wanna do this? Then get the fuck outside,” I bark.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s do this outside!” he says, trying to be tough.
I send a glare at the bitch whose name I can’t fucking remember. She gives me a smug smirk as
she sets her hands on her hips. Does she really think that her brother can beat me? Wow, she must be
more delusional than I first thought. I was really hoping she would just forget about me, but obviously,
that isn’t the case. I point in the direction of the front doors. She and her brother head that way. I
follow.
I pass Monica on my way out. She starts apologizing like crazy, but I tell her that it’s okay, shit
happens. I step outside with my friends at my back. I take my mask off and hand it to Nick, who is
standing on my right.
“Vinny, I want you to kick his ass,” uber-bitch says.
I sneer at her. Once again, I wonder what the hell I was thinking when I slept with her. She’s
standing there on the sidewalk in shiny black latex pants and a black bra with a neon pink mesh tank
top over it. Her heels look like something a hooker would wear. Actually, her whole outfit looks like
something a hooker would wear. And I am not even going to delve into why her face is practically
orange. She needs to lay off the fake baking. I turn to look at her brother who is in jeans, a white wife
beater, and his hair looks like it has so much gel and other shit in it, that they could use his head for a
battering ram.
“Look man, I don’t know what your sister’s told you, but it was a one night stand and that’s it.
No other promises were made,” I say more calmly than I feel, hoping to diffuse the situation before it
escalates any more than it already has.
“You’re a fucking liar, Calvin!” The crazy bitch squawks, flailing her arms around. “You said
that you would call me and you never did!”
I then hear Charlotte, who is standing somewhere behind me say, “Can someone please get this
bitch a fishing pole so she can reel her shit in?”
I sigh and hang my head. I bite my bottom lip to stop from laughing. Leave it to Charlotte to say
something like that. Jesus Christ. Of course, Delilah, Parker, and Nick bust out laughing. Well psycho
has a fucking conniption after that. She starts screaming at Charlotte, pointing her claw-like nail in her
face. I can see Charlotte is about to lay her out, so I move in between them, taking crazy by her arm
and pushing her away. Well that sets her brother off.
“Get your damn hands off my sister, asshole!” he shouts.
He takes a swing at me. Dumbass barely clips my chin because he can’t reach high enough. I
palm his face and give him a good shove, making him stumble back and fall on his ass. His sister
rounds on me, tearing her arm out of my grasp before raking her nails across my neck.
“Agh! What the fuck?” I bellow, my hand automatically coming up to check for blood. When I
look at my fingers, they come away red.
“You bitch!” Charlotte and Delilah gasp in outrage at the same time.
I don’t know what kind of look I was giving those two assholes, but the guy must have realized
that I was done playing around and shit was about to get real because he quickly got to his feet and
grabbed his sister.
“Loretta, let’s get out of here,” he urges, as he starts to pull her down the street.
She doesn’t fight him, but I can see that she’s not ready for this to end. I just hope she realizes
that she better stay away because I will not let something like this happen again without getting the
police involved. I should actually get a restraining order against her regardless.
“Yeah, get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass, you fucking slut!” Charlotte screams down
the street after them.
I turn to look at her. Her anger is written all over her face and it warms my heart that she is trying
to defend me. I have no doubt that she could drop Loretta if it came to that. She turns to me, a deep
frown on her face. She looks at my neck.
“You should clean that up. Who knows what the hell was under her nails,” she grimaces.
“Yeah, ew,” Delilah agrees.
I nod. “Alright, let’s get back inside,” I say, slinging my arm around Charlotte’s shoulders as we
all turn to go back into the club. “Pinky, will you be my nurse?”
She chuckles and swats my stomach. “Shut up, Calvin.”
I smile. It finally seems like she’s coming around. This is good…really good.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte
Okay, so I know staring at the phone is not going to make it call Calvin. I can’t will the phone to
dial his number and talk to him for me. Ugh! Why am I so nervous? It’s not like I don’t know if he
likes me or not. He does. This has been a long time coming, too.
Do it, Charlie. Don’t be a bitch. Do it!
Taking a deep breath, I swipe my thumb over my screen to open my phone. With a shaky finger, I
pull up Calvin’s number and hit the call button. Taking a deep breath, I put the phone to my ear and
listen to it ring…once…twice…three times…
“Hello?” Calvin’s deep voice answers.
“Uh, Calvin, hi! It’s Charlie!” I chirp, waaay too enthusiastically.
I curse myself and swipe a hand down my face.
“Hey, Pinky, what’s going on?” he replies, obvious amusement in his tone.
“I’m calling…to, um…I wanted to know…” Fuck! I’m stuttering like a fool! Get it together,
Charlie! “Do you want to go out with me Saturday? I know you work at night, but we can go out in
the afternoon?”
Silence. Calvin doesn’t say a word. I can’t even hear him breathing. Did he hang up on me? Holy
shit! Was I wrong? Maybe he doesn’t like me!
“Calvin?” I ask weakly, praying that I didn’t just make a dumbass out of myself.
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m here,” he says, an odd note to his voice.
“Is that a ‘no’ then?”
“What? No! I mean yes! I mean…shit. I would love to go out with you on Saturday, Charlotte, but
I can’t do that to Parker,” he tells.
“I’m not dating Parker. Is that why you were so quiet?” I ask.
“Yeah, plus, you shocked the shit out of me. No woman has ever asked me out before,” he says,
sounding a bit befuddled.
I smile to myself. I like that I’m the first woman to ever ask him out. That means he’ll always
remember me for that.
“Do you have something in mind?” he asks curiously.
“I do, but it’s a surprise. Oh, and dress warm,” I tease. No doubt if I tell him where we’re going
he’ll try to change my plans.
“Oh, a surprise, huh? So, since you asked me out, does that mean you’re paying?” He chuckles.
“Of course,” I answer seriously. That was the plan.
“Oh come on, Charlotte, I was just kidding. You know I can’t let you do that.”
“Too bad. I asked, I pay. Period. You can get the next one,” I say without thinking.
“The next one? Planning more than one date with me?” he asks teasingly, but I can hear the little
bit of shock in his voice. I totally caught him off guard…again.
“We’ll see; if the first one goes well, then yeah…”
“Deal,” he says.
“I’ll pick you up at 11:00 am on Saturday. Text me your address, okay?” I say, ready to hang up
the phone before anything else stupid spews out of my mouth.
“Okay, I’ll see you then,” he replies, and I can hear his smile.
“Bye, Calvin.”
“Bye, Pinky.”
I hang up and flop over on my couch, burying my face in the cushion before screaming. That was
torture! How do guys do this all of the time? How do they build up the nerve to ask someone out
without throwing the hell up? I will never do that again! Never!
Saturday rolls around fairly quickly. I’ve decided to take Calvin ice-skating. I snicker to myself;
this is going to be hilarious. I’ll bet my life that he has never stepped foot onto an ice-skating rink. I
wake up at 8:00 am, take a shower, make sure my hair looks perfect, do my makeup, and pick out a
cute outfit. It needs to be sexy enough to grab his attention, but at the same time, I don’t want to look
like I’m trying too hard. I choose a pair of black leggings and oversized knit sweater. I put on a pair
of flat ankle length black leather boots, and then go check myself out in the mirror. Lookin’ good, if I
do say so myself. I check the time. 10:00 am. Perfect. I have time to grab something to eat before
heading over to Calvin’s.
I leave at 10:30 am to go grab Mr. Hunk of Man Meat. It’s not super cold out, but there is a bit of
a chill in the breeze. I pull up to Calvin’s with five minutes to spare. I’m just about to get out of my
car and head up to knock on his door when it opens and he steps out. I’m standing next to my car, with
my car door open. He shakes his head, not looking all too happy.
“Uh huh, no fucking way, you will not come and knock for me. It’s bad enough that you are
picking me up and paying…shit, that’s just…it’s weird,” he mutters. “I was so not raised this way.”
He stops next to the passenger side door of my car and looks over the hood at me. His light
brown eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. His goatee is trimmed to perfection along with his
short black hair. He’s wearing a long sleeved hunter green Henley and black jeans that hug his long
muscular thighs. It seriously should be illegal for a man to look this damn fine.
“Hey, Pinky,” he murmurs with a small, but affectionate smile.
I can’t help but melt. “Hi, Calvin,” I reply with my own smile.
We stare at each other for a moment before he looks down at my yellow VW Beetle. He looks
back at me with an incredulous look on his face.
“Uh, there is no way that I’m going to fit into that,” he snorts, motioning toward Daisy.
“Daisy’s roomier than she looks,” I reply.
“Let’s just take my car.”
“No, I’m the one who asked you out, so I’m driving,” I insist.
“Charlotte, seriously? I’m six-five, there is no way I can fit into this little thing,” he argues.
“Yes you can.” I smile sweetly. I’m not giving in, we will take my car.
He stares at me again, unmoving
“What now?” I ask, getting exasperated with his reluctance to take my car.
“Did you just call your car ‘Daisy’?”
“Um, yeah. And?”
“As in the flower?” he asks dubiously.
“No, as in Driving Miss Daisy,” I answer sarcastically. “Only this time, instead of an old black
man driving around an even older, ornery white woman, you get a spry, sexy white chick driving
around an old, black whiner,” I say pointedly.
Calvin leans his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. He holds his hand to his chest in mock
offense. “I don’t know if I am more offended by the ‘old’ or ‘whiner’ comment. Nor do I know if I
want to kiss you or spank your ass for talking that way to me.”
I wink at him. “Either will do.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Pinky.” He shakes his head, smiling.
“Good, I like keeping you on your toes. Now, get your fine black ass into my car and quit your
bitching, old geezer.”
He narrows his eyes at me for a moment before his top lip curls in disgust and he yanks open the
passenger door. He somehow folds his big body into my small car. I follow his lead and get into the
car. I glance over to find him watching me.
“What?” I ask.
He grins and shakes his head. “Nothing, I’m just really glad you called me.”
I give him probably the most genuine smile I’ve ever given him. “So am I.”
“Good, so where are we going?” he asks, as I start my car back up.
“It’s a surprise,” I tease in a singsong voice.
He chuckles. “Great, I can only imagine what you have in store for me.”
I give him my best evil laugh, making him crack up. I really like to hear him laugh. There is
something about it that just makes him feel like…home to me. He makes me feel safe and comfortable
whenever we are together, even though I never wanted to admit it before. This is the new Charlie,
though. I’m going to live my life without worry. I’m going to have fun and be with the one guy I’ve
been wanting to be with for a long time now. No more running. No more lying to myself.
Calvin
Charlotte has an amazing ass. It’s the only thing that I see as we walk up to the double doors
leading into a very large building. I’m so entranced that I don’t even see the name of the business. I
mean, what was she thinking wearing leggings? Did she really think that I would be able to pay
attention to anything else? Ha! Not going to happen!
When we get inside, I feel the temperature drop slightly and I frown. Doesn’t it usually get
warmer when you go indoors? I look up from Charlotte’s ass to find myself in an ice-skating rink.
What. The. Fuck. Charlotte turns around with a blazing smile on her face and a mischievous glint in
her light blue eyes.
“You’re funny, baby girl, now let’s go to where you were really planning on taking me,” I say,
hoping that she is just fucking with me.
Her smile grows wider, if that’s even possible. “This is it; I thought it would be fun.”
I give her a bored look. “Girl, you have got to know that black men do not ice skate.”
Charlotte’s grin instantly turns into a pout, with her bottom lip sticking out and everything. She
steps closer, places her hands on my chest, and looks up at me with pleading eyes.
“Pwease Calvin?” she asks. “My daddy always used to go ice skating with me.”
"And?" I ask inquisitively, knowing full well what she means because of my conversation with
Nick. I just want to see if she plans to tell me.
"And he is black," she states loud and proud. None of that whispering bullshit white people do
when they talk about someone being black. My heart swells just a little bit more knowing that she
doesn't have a problem with us being different races.
How am I supposed to say no to that face? It’s impossible. I sigh heavily and rub the back of my
neck.
“Ugh, alright, but I’ve never done this before. I’m not going to be any good at it.”
Her bright smile is back. “That doesn’t matter! It’s all about having fun!” She chirps, before
reaching up and giving me a quick peck on the lips.
I’m momentarily stunned by the small kiss as she turns around and heads for the counter. I watch
her for a moment, wondering where the hell this Charlotte has been this whole time. Damn, I thought I
liked her a lot before, now…now I’m thinking that this thing between us could possibly lead into
something else entirely.
She glances over her shoulder and waves for me to follow. I force my feet to move and follow
her over to the rental counter where we each get a pair of ice skates – the prissy figure skating kind.
What the hell? I stare at the skates before looking over at Charlotte, who is already shoving her feet
into hers.
“Seriously?” I grunt.
She looks over at me in confusion. “What?”
“I really have to wear these?” I ask, holding up the girly skates.
“Yes, you’re a first timer, those will be easier to skate on.”
“Why can’t I wear hockey skates? Those are for dudes,” I complain.
“You will kill yourself on hockey skates, Calvin. They have a thinner blade and are much harder
to skate on, believe me,” Charlotte says as she laces up her skates.
“Dammit,” I grumble and plop down on the bench next to her.
As I sit on the bench lacing up the skates, I just know that this is going to be a nightmare. How
does anyone balance on these things? I’m so screwed.
Charlotte steps out onto the ice first, handling it like a pro. She glides a few feet away and spins
around to face me. She places her hands on her hips and waits for me. I shake my head. This is going
to be bad. I glance down at the ice, and then back at her.
“I’m doing this for you, Pinky, keep that in mind,” I say, giving her a pointed look.
Her smile turns sensual and somewhat naughty. “I’ll give you a prize later.”
My cock twitches at the thought of what kind of prize she’s talking about. I hope we’re thinking
about the same thing because I’ve been dying to get my hands all over that incredible body of hers.
All right, here goes nothin’. I take a deep breath and step out onto the ice. Holy shit, this is
slippery! I put my arms out in front of me, making sure I’m ready to catch myself if I fall. I feel like a
baby just learning how to walk and I’m sure I look like the biggest douche, too. Nick would never let
me live this down if he found out. I’m going to have to swear Charlotte to secrecy. I take little steps,
trying to make it out to where she is. I glance up and see that she is fighting hard not to laugh at me.
Bitch.
“I’m going to kick your ass for this, Charlotte,” I grumble, trying to concentrate on not falling on
my face.
“You’ll be fine once you get the hang of it.” She snickers and I swear this was a perfectly
calculated plan to humiliate me. The question is why? Maybe she just needs a good laugh at my
expense. Or maybe she genuinely thought this would be a good time. Stop overthinking shit, King,
and enjoy your time with her.
I feel like Bob in the movie What About Bob when he’s baby stepping into the elevator. A few
steps later and my right foot slips. My arms pinwheel in an effort to regain my balance but it’s no use.
I go down and go down hard. I land on my stomach. All of the air gets pushed out of my lungs, leaving
me gasping. I feel like I just belly flopped onto concrete. Very cold concrete. Charlotte is no help
either. She’s cackling like a deranged witch a couple of feet away. I’m going to kill her for this.
Thank god there are not a lot of people here because I’m going to have to murder every single one of
them for what they just witnessed.
Once I am able to breathe again, I push up onto my hands and knees. Glancing around, I’m trying
to figure out how to get back to my feet. I think my best bet would be to crawl back over to the wall
and use that to help me up. I’m just about to start crawling when I feel Charlotte’s slender hand slip
under my arm.
“Come on, ya big oaf, let me help you up.” She chuckles.
I sneer at her over my shoulder, which only makes her laugh harder. “I’m so glad you’re finding
this funny.”
“Oh, I am.” She giggles, as she helps me to my feet.
She turns so that she is in front of me, facing me, and holds out her hands to me. I take them and
she slowly starts skating backward, pulling me with her. Our eyes lock on each other and I can feel
the connection roaring between us. It’s the strongest connection that I’ve ever felt with a woman.
Charlotte’s beautiful face is staring up at me and I cannot tear my eyes away from her. Her smile is
blindingly bright, her eyes are big and so full of life, and her pale creamy skin is flawless.
“Hey, look, the black guy is skating,” Charlotte teases and nods to my legs.
I then realize that my legs are moving and she is no longer pulling me, we are just holding hands.
My eyes widen and I grin like a fool. This is amazing! I’m not going all that fast, but with the cool air
rushing past me, it feels like I’m flying. If I didn’t think that I would sound like a complete tool, I
would say that I understand why Leonardo DiCaprio climbed to the top of the Titanic and spread his
wings. It’s an incredible feeling. But, since I will never admit to seeing that movie, I guess the point
is moot.
Charlotte slowly lets my hands go and I’m skating all by myself. Wow…just wow. Moving to my
side, Charlotte takes my hand in hers and we start skating around the rink together.
On about our third lap around, someone flies by me, bumping my leg. The arms start pin wheeling
again before I end up flat on my back. Charlotte gasps and stops next to me. It’s then that I hear a
familiar voice talking as I stare up at the ceiling.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” the woman I know very well asks.
I close my eyes and wait for it.
“Holy shit! Calvin?”
Yup, there it is. I open my eyes and glance at Charlotte, who is frowning at the beautiful black
woman standing on the other side of me. When I look over at my ex-girlfriend of too many wasted
years, Aisha Johnson, she has an odd expression on her face, something between lust, surprise, and
irritation.
I push up to my elbows. “Hey, Aisha.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip. “Never thought I’d see you in an ice skating
rink, that’s for sure,” she says in her usual bitchy tone.
“Never thought I’d be here either, but I’m on a date,” I reply.
My fucking ass is throbbing, not only from falling but also from the ice seeping into my pants. I
hold out my hand for Charlotte and she helps me up. When I straighten up, I can see the raw hatred
and disgust in Aisha’s eyes as she glares at Charlotte. Ah, fuck, this is not going to go over well.
Aisha thinks that black men should only be with black women and vice versa. Unfortunately, we had
that conversation when we were together. She is a very narrow-minded woman; it’s one of the main
reasons that we didn’t work out. Looks like some people never change.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a date with a white bitch?” she says, practically spitting
fire.
I see Charlotte flinch as though she just got slapped across the face. Before I can say anything in
reply, she opens her mouth. “Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
“Not you, Casper,” Aisha snaps, shooting daggers at Charlotte.
My mouth drops open. I cannot believe she just said that. I knew Aisha could be a bitch, but I
never saw her be blatantly racist to someone’s face. I see Charlotte’s eyes flash dangerously and I
know she is about to fucking flip. I quickly move my body so that I am between them. I do not need
them to fist fight out on the ice where I am at a disadvantage.
“That was extremely fucked up, Aisha,” I rumble down at her.
She gives me one of her nastiest looks. “Fuck you, Calvin. How can you date a white trash
whore? There are plenty of beautiful black women around here to be with; you don’t need to look
outside of your race for a woman.”
“Who I choose to date is none of your goddamned business. And all women are beautiful in my
eyes, not just black women,” I reply coldly.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, okay, what are your parents going to think?”
I frown hard at her. She definitely crossed the line by bringing my parents into this. “My parents
don’t care who I date, as long as she’s not a stuck up cunt like you,” I bite out.
Aisha narrows her eyes at me. She moves to look past me to address Charlotte. “No matter what
you do, you will not be accepted by the Kings. They don’t want their son dating your kind. And I
would know, I was with Calvin for years,” she says, her tone belittling.
“Aisha! That’s enough!” I boom, making her actually flinch and other people around us turn to
stare. I’ve had enough of this bullshit and I don’t want to subject Charlotte to it any further. I grab
Charlotte’s shaking hand and start for the exit to get off the ice.
“I hope it works out, Calvin, because no black woman will want you after this!” she calls after
me.
I feel Charlotte start to turn but I yank her forward, putting her in front of me, dropping my hands
to her shoulders, and squeezing slightly. “Not worth it, babe,” I grind out.
That bitch has me so fucking heated. What a way to ruin a first date. We get off the ice and return
the skates in silence. I can feel the anger vibrating off Charlotte as she shoves her feet back into her
boots. Once we’re ready to go, I take her hand, lead her outside, and back to her car. Before she can
get in, I grab her and push her up against the side of the car, blocking her in with my body. I press
against her as I clasp her beautiful face in my hands.
“Hey, look at me,” I say sharply.
Her blazing blue eyes snap up to meet mine. I can see the shitload of emotions running through
her. First and foremost is anger and hate, but I can also see the sliver of doubt she is trying to hide.
Well, I’m not going to let that bitch make this gorgeous woman doubt what is between us for one
second.
“Do not listen to anything that stupid twat said, got it? She’s lying just to hurt you because she’s
jealous that I’m with someone more beautiful than she is,” I say firmly as I stroke her cheeks with my
thumbs. “My parents have no problem with me dating a woman of any race - black, white, Asian,
Hispanic, doesn’t matter. They just want me to be happy.”
“I just want to smash her face in,” she bites out.
I smirk. “And as much as I would love to see that, I don’t want our date being ruined because you
get hurt in any way.”
She smiles slightly and nods. “I can totally take her, you know.”
“I have no doubt about that, Pinky.” I chuckle.
Charlotte’s hands come up to grip my hips and tug me closer. I pull in a deep breath, taking in her
intoxicating scent. Peaches are definitely my new favorite smell. She tilts her head back more so that
she can still meet my gaze. Stunning…she is just…stunning.
“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” I whisper huskily.
Her naughty little hands snake around to my ass to give it a firm squeeze. I raise an eyebrow at
her, which just makes her grin. I lower my face to hers, looking into her baby blues for a moment
before stealing a kiss from her luscious lips. Her eyes flutter shut and a content sigh escapes her. I
lace my fingers into her silky hair and tilt her head to the side so that I can kiss her more deeply. I
haven’t kissed her since that night she was drunk, so this has been a long time coming. I have been
dying to get another taste of her.
Her mouth parts for me, so I take what she is offering and glide my tongue along her lower lip
before sweeping into her mouth. Fuck, she tastes so good! I can’t help but moan. She tightens her grip
on my ass, subsequently pulling me closer and forcing the raging hard on that I have to press into her
stomach. Oh, what I would give to have said hard on somewhere other than pressed against her
stomach. Her mouth would be nice, or her…no, don’t go there, this is only the first date! Dammit,
King! Get yourself together!
I pull away slowly, leaving light kisses at the corners of her mouth before moving away
completely. “How about we go get some food?” I offer.
Charlotte nods. “Yeah, sounds good,” she breathes.
We slowly detach and then get into her car. She says that she knows a really great pizzeria not
too far away, so that’s where we go. It is already 2:30 pm and I’m supposed to be at the club by 4:00
pm. But I am the owner; it’s not like I can’t show up late. My staff will be there setting up whether
I’m there or not. So after a great lunch, Charlotte drives me back to my place.
I turn to her once she parks. “Come in for a little while,” I say, not wanting this date to end.
She studies me for a moment while she thinks it over. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come in for a little bit,”
she agrees.
My heart leaps for joy in my chest. Not that I’m expecting sex or anything, but maybe some
making out while I round second base would be nice. I’ve been waiting so long to get my hands on
her perfect little body. We get out of the car and head into my place, letting her walk in first. Once I
have the door shut and locked behind us, I take her hand and pull her to me. She comes willingly,
placing her hands on my chest. I capture her mouth with my own as I wrap my arms around her. She
melts against me and moans softly.
“No sex on the first date, Calvin,” she murmurs against my lips.
“I wasn’t expecting sex,” I mutter, kissing my way down her neck.
She tilts her head to the side to give me better access. I hum my approval as I lick and suck on the
sensitive skin just under her ear. Her nails graze my scalp sending shivers down my spine.
“There is something else we can do, though,” she purrs seductively.
“Is that so?” I ask, lifting my head to look down at her.
She shoots me a sexy smile. My heart lurches in my chest. Damn her and her gorgeous smile.
Wow, I am in deep already. She has me in her clutches and honestly, I don’t want her to let me go.
She’s the only woman that has ever made me break my own rules, that’s got to mean something, right?
It just seems that every moment I spend with her is sending me further and further down the path of no
return.
She tugs me over to my leather armchair and shoves me down onto it. Okay...where is she going
with this? Instead of dropping to her knees as I almost expect her to, she walks around the coffee table
and sits down on the couch, lounging back against the corner. My eyebrows rises in curiosity.
“Have you ever masturbated in front of anyone before?” Charlotte asks, catching me off guard,
making me almost come in my jeans.
“Ah…I can’t say that I have,” I answer after clearing my throat.
“I think we should try it, it’s pretty hot,” she murmurs, her heavy lidded eyes watching me.
“So, you want me to jerk off while you touch yourself?” I clarify. Yes! Fuck, please say yes!
She bites her bottom lip and nods, her desire-laden gaze raking over me from head to…crotch.
Shit, I think my Pinky is a freak in disguise. I like it!
In my head, I’m screaming like I have just received the best fucking present in the entire world.
“Okay, we can do that,” is what I say in what I hope is a calm tone.
Charlotte smiles seductively at me and stands in front of me, just out of reach. She dips her
thumbs into the waistband of her skintight leggings and begins to peel them down over her asking-to-
be-grabbed-onto hips and down her taut thighs, revealing the tiniest pair of panties that I have ever
seen. I lick my lips. I want to cry over the fact that I’m about to see her naked. My cock immediately
jumps to attention, pushing at my zipper, wanting out. She then slowly and torturously pulls her
sweater over her head to reveal her pretty, baby blue lace bra that is cupping her milky white breasts
to perfection. I wish I were her bra right now. They match her eyes perfectly and I can’t keep mine off
her. I respond by yanking off my own shirt and tossing it aside. She lets out a soft moan as her eyes
hungrily scan over my chest and abs.
Her panties – otherwise known as the tiny scrap of material that is keeping me from heaven - are
the next to go. Holy mother of God! The woman is flawless. Her skin is pale and creamy, and I can
only imagine that it is as soft as it looks. The she-devil then sits back down across from me and
spreads her legs wide. A low groan escapes my throat. She’s bare between her legs and the prettiest
pink that I’ve ever seen. It takes everything in me not to go over there and bury my face between her
parted thighs. I undo my jeans and shove them down to my ankles, letting my painfully throbbing cock
spring free. Charlotte gasps then smiles wide.
“Mmm, you’re a big boy,” she purrs, her eyes locked onto my dick.
I smirk, feeling my ego inflate a bit. It’s always nice when a woman calls you a big boy. Guys are
weird like that. We like women to notice if our junk is big or not. Ya know, penis envy and all that
shit. Something of which I don’t have, just so you know. I take myself in my hand and start stroking
slowly.
She reaches down, sliding a finger through her slick folds. She gasps softly, her eyes rapt on my
hand and cock. I can’t blame her, my eyes are locked on her pussy and I can’t look the fuck away.
Now I understand why she thinks this is hot, because it fucking is!
Another moan bubbles up my throat. My cock weeps, and I spread the natural lube around the
head. My breath hisses out…shit, I might not last as long as I had hoped. Charlotte uses her free hand
to unhook her bra in the back; it pops free and she tosses her bra aside. Fuck me! Those are the most
beautiful breasts that I’ve ever seen. They are full and perky with a dusky pink nipple. My mouth
waters with the need to pull one of her nipples into my mouth. I need to get my mouth and hands on
those perfect tits of hers.
A sexy flush creeps over Charlotte’s high cheeks. Her eyes are heavy lidded and smoldering as
she watches me. She suddenly gets to her feet and starts toward me. Maybe she’s changed her mind?
She climbs onto my lap, her legs straddling my thighs. Following my first instinct, I reach for her hips
but she slaps my hands away.
“No touching,” she hisses.
I realize that she hasn’t changed her mind, but wants me to keep jerking off with her in my lap.
Jesus. My balls pull tight and my abs clench. I’ve never been so turned on in my life! I blow out a
harsh breath as I struggle for control. This woman is going to make me come like a greenhorn. I watch
her as she rubs circles around her clit, her breath coming faster. I reach down with my other hand to
cup my boys as I speed up my stroking, focusing mostly on the engorged head, which is the most
sensitive.
Then she goes and does it, she slips her finger inside of herself. Her head falls back, those pouty
lips of hers part, and a moan escapes her. Her thighs tighten and tremble around mine and I friggin’
lose it. I grunt and hiss as I shoot my load all over my chest and stomach. Sonofabitch! Charlotte’s
body vibrates and her free hand clamps onto my thigh. I can only assume that she is coming, too. I
have never seen anything more beautiful. Slowly, her body relaxes and she sighs, dropping her chin
to her chest. I have to admit that that was the best self-pleasuring experience that I’ve ever had.
“Damn, Pinky, that was hot,” I pant.
She lifts her head and smiles lazily. “Told ya,” she murmurs.
Charlotte
Did we really just do that? Yeah, we fucking did! And it was insanely sexy. Calvin has the best
body that I’ve ever seen on a man in person. All of those hard rippling muscles. And his cock, my
god, it’s beautiful - long and thick. I’m actually tempted to fuck him right now, screw it being the first
date. But I will refrain. I really don’t want to look like a hoe.
I lean forward and give him a languid kiss. I can’t believe that it took me so long to finally be
with him. I can be so stupid sometimes. I clamber off his lap and go in search of some tissues. I find a
box on the end table next to the couch, grab them, and turn back to Calvin, who is watching me
intensely. I wonder what he’s thinking? I walk back over to him and hand him the box. His chocolate
eyes stare into mine for a moment before he takes the box from me. He finally breaks eye contact and
starts to clean himself up.
As he is doing that, I start pulling on my clothes. I just pull my sweater over my head when I feel
him press against my back, his mouth dropping to the crook of my neck as his arms wrap around my
waist.
“Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” He whispers quietly. “You are the most
stunning woman that I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I smile and close my eyes. “You probably say that to all of the ladies,” I tease.
He shakes his head. “No, only you.”
I’m momentarily speechless by the honesty in his tone. Well, shit. What do I say to that? “Thank
you,” I murmur, probably sounding so lame.
“You’re welcome. And thank you for a wonderful first date. I must say, it was one for the record
books,” he snickers.
I elbow him in the gut, making him grunt. “Shut up.” I chuckle.
He straightens and turns me around to face him. “Honestly, I really enjoyed myself,” he says
sincerely, as he strokes his large hands up and down my arms.
I smile. “Yeah, me, too.”
“We can do this again, right? My turn to treat.”
I nod. “Most definitely.”
“Great.” He smirks and gives me a peck on the lips. “Now, I really have to get ready for work.
You are welcome to stay and keep me company while I do.”
I agree to stay. I follow Calvin into his bedroom where he pulls out clothes to wear and lays it on
his bed. I hang out on his bed while he takes a quick shower. He comes back into the bedroom in just
his towel and I seriously have to fight back the urge to jump him. All that sexy caramel skin on
display is too much for me to handle. He must sense my arousal because he dresses quickly. I think
he’s trying to behave, too. When he’s all ready to go, he walks me out to my car, kisses me stupid,
then sends me on my way. Damn, what is this guy doing to me?
Chapter Eight
Charlotte
It’s been a few weeks since my first date with Calvin, and I am strung out. I mean seriously
addicted. We have gone out a few more times, but nothing major – grabbed a coffee before he went
into work or a quick bite during my lunch hour. He hasn’t even done more than kiss me those times
we’ve met. Sweetly. Not that I am complaining because just having his lips on me is body tingling.
But I want more. I need more. Anywho, like I said, nothing to write home about. Of course, it
doesn’t help that we keep different schedules since he works most nights. Actually, he has asked me a
few times to come to the club while he is working, but I feel a little weird about it. I don’t know.
This week seems to have dragged ass. With Eddie out of the office, my stress level has risen
considerably. The villagers are getting restless with the fact that this ass dweeb is bogarting all of
Eddie’s attention and they are taking it out on me. I really could use a drink – or a good screw. Maybe
it is time to visit Calvin at Club M after all.
I find myself staring at the clock all day. Now that I have decided that I am going to see Calvin at
the club, the minutes are crawling by. I mean seriously. Every time I look up, it has only been a few
minutes. It has to be five o’clock somewhere, right? Fuck it, I am out of here!
I make a quick stop at my place to shower, freshen up my makeup, sweep my hair up into a messy
but sexy French knot, and change into something a little more…revealing. I decide on a black leather
mini with my gold lamé backless silk shirt. And when I say backless, I mean no bra wearing, sticky-
tape-required backless. My front is completely covered, demure even. But when I turn around… va
va va voom! The only material you can see is the waistband, it is only being held up by a thin gold
chain stretching across my shoulders. Calvin is going to freak when he sees this! If he can see past my
leather clad ass.
I slip into my prized pair of gold Jimmy Choos and do a once over in the mirror. Something is
missing. My lips! I grab a shimmery gloss, my cell, and keys, then head out the door. No turning
back. Tonight’s the night. Nothing and nobody is going to stand in my way. Not even myself.
I delicately slide into Daisy, making sure not to moon anyone in the process. Oh yeah, I figured
that since I am unable to wear a bra, I might as well go completely commando. And I have to admit, I
am feeling a little freaky. Sexy, but freaky. I get myself situated, making sure I am decent, and then
head to Club Masquerade. I am so nervous that I almost forget to call Monica to put myself on
tonight’s list. Even though Nick, Delilah, Parker, and I all have VIP status, we are still supposed to
call ahead so that our nametags are ready and messenger devices are available and programmed with
our numbers. While on the phone with Monica, a little idea pops into my head and I run with it.
Thankfully, she is all for foreplay and she goes along with it. I give her my new name and number
and tell her I will be there in a few.
Still Charlotte…
Every time I walk through the door at Club M, it feels like the first time when I was here with
Delilah. It is so impressive; it takes my breath away, just like its owner. I hope I can say the same
thing about what he’s got in his pants later! I spend a few extra minutes plotting with Monica, and
then head in through the solid wooden double doors. The first thing I do is pull off my nametag. I
have no interest in anybody messaging me tonight, so there is no point in wearing it. I don’t want to be
disturbed during my mission. I walk the perimeter making sure that he doesn’t see me, and then slide
into a corner booth, out of sight. I scan the room trying to find him, but it is so large, like a grand
ballroom, that it takes me a solid few minutes to spot him. To say that I am not pleased is an
understatement.
Calvin - my Calvin – is leaning against the bar, his back to the room. I don’t need to see his face
to know that it’s him. His broad shoulders, muscular back, and that ass. I could pick that ass out of a
line up. Oooh that would be awesome! How can I make that happen? But the leggy red head hanging
on him is certainly not a welcome sight. Maybe my plan is stupid. Maybe I should have taken him up
on his offer to visit weeks ago. I see Calvin turn to her and smile. Not a panty-melting smile, but a
nice smile. A polite smile. I’m not close enough to see if it reaches his eyes, but I doubt that I would
be able to tell anyway with his mask. But it is a smile, nonetheless, and I am heartbroken. I feel like
such a fool. Just as I feel my insecurities and past issues creeping in, I see him gently grab her hand –
gasp! –and then slowly lower it from his arm, placing it lightly to her side. I think he is trying to give
her the brush off, but I don’t think she is getting the hint. She tries to touch his chest this time, and I am
standing up out of the booth quicker than necessary. Just as I am about to approach this desperate slut
– effectively ruining my seductions plans for the evening – I see him shake his head at her and remove
her hand again. This time, she gets it and walks away with a pouty face. Desperation is not her color.
I watch him walk around a little bit, making sure that everything is running smoothly and that the
guests are enjoying themselves. My mood elevates when I see him on the dance floor walking toward
the band. He is snapping his fingers and bopping his head back and forth. I guess I picked swing
night because the band is playing Zoot Suit Riot. He looks so sexy and so relaxed. He is wearing a
black button down dress shirt and charcoal gray pants that are molded to his ass so closely that I may
start drooling if I don’t look away. Shifting in my seat, trying to calm the pulsing between my legs, I
get my shit together and send him a text.
Golden Cha Cha #666: Hey, sexy. U look lonely. Want some company?
C- dog #413: Depends on what kind of company u are offering
Golden Cha Cha #666: Only the best kind, of course
C- dog #413: I am a bit lonely :( Someone to warm my bed would be nice
What? Is he fucking kidding?
Golden Cha Cha #666: Would anyone do? Or is there a certain someone u are waiting for?
I start chewing on the skin around my thumbnail waiting for his reply.
C- dog #413: Wouldn’t mind checking the validity of your moniker...
I release the breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. I guess the “dog” in his nickname
isn’t just for show. Time to kick it up a notch.
Golden Cha Cha #666: Maybe if u take me up to a room u can find out for yourself
C- dog #413: Room 2B. 5 min
Oh, he is going to fucking pay for this. I came here for a good screw, needing to relieve all of this
stress from work. I guess a good fight will do the same trick.
Golden Cha Cha #666: You got it, hot stuff
I wait a few extra minutes to make sure that he gets there before me. Admittedly, I have to take
that extra time to calm myself down and think things through. I am beyond pissed at the player,
heartbroken by my lover, and disappointed as a friend. I know that we never really defined what we
are, and we never discussed exclusivity or monogamy, but I guess I just assumed that while we are
dating and getting to know each other, that other sexual encounters would be off limits. I feel like a
fool. I grab my purse, the messenger, and head to room 2B.
When I get upstairs, I see that Calvin has left the door open a crack for me. Well, not me exactly.
I guess that few extra minutes served its purpose on this front; it hasn’t, however, cooled me down
any. He is in that room, just on the other side of that door, waiting for the girl with the golden cha
cha. Boy is he going to be disappointed.
I take a deep breath, straighten my spine, stiffen my shoulders, lift my chin, and confidently –even
if I am faking it – walk through the door of room 2B. I slam the door behind me and turn quickly on
my heels, ripping off my mask.
I see him approaching me quickly, his mask already off. Damn, he is sexy. I point my finger at
him and speak sternly. “Who the hell do you think you are?” I bite out, gritting my teeth.
He keeps striding toward me until his mouth is covering mine, my back thumping against the door
that I had just slammed shut. I am lost in his kiss. All rationale leaves my brain and my body betrays
me. His large hands grab my arms, sliding them above my head as his right one locks both of my
hands together in his one. His left hand begins to drift down my body past my beaded nipples, which
have nowhere to hide in this blouse, and latches onto my hipbone. His hand is so large it practically
encircles my entire waist. He has one muscular thigh between my legs and I am completely pinned
against the door, my body buzzing in anticipation of what he will do next. In this position, I can feel
his erection leaning against my stomach, and he is rock hard. Take me, taste me, screw me, I chant in
my head.
While he is preoccupied, I take a few seconds to study his gorgeous face. The one I have become
so familiar with, considering I dream about him every night – square jaw, full bite-able lips, perfectly
trimmed goatee…missing? It looks like he shaved it off and is now sporting a scruffy shadow. Hot
damn! I didn’t think he could be any sexier than he already was… and his eyes…usually a soft
chocolate brown, right now look almost black with lust. His lids are hooded, and looks as though he
is surveying the land. My land. When he realizes that I am not moving, and am completely silent, his
eyes snap to mine. When our eyes meet, I remember our earlier texts, and it’s like a bucket of ice
water being dumped over my head.
“You need to back the fuck off me right now,” I growl.
Calvin blinks at me in surprise but lets my hands go and backs up a couple of steps. “What’s
wrong?” he asks with a frown.
“What…what’s wrong?” I stutter in my rage. “I’ll tell you what’s fucking wrong! You came up
here to meet some chick that you thought you were going to fuck!”
Calvin’s eyebrows shoot up and he lets out a bitter laugh. “Wow, you really think so highly of
me. Did you really think that I didn’t know it was you? First off, I never sleep with anyone from the
club. Second, and listen closely because this is most important, we are together, which means I’m not
going to be with anyone else but you, Pinky.”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to decipher if he’s being completely honest with me. “How did
you know it was me?” I ask suspiciously.
“Babe, I am the OWNER, I am like the wizard of Oz…omniscient...all knowing,” he says
egomaniacally.
I plant my hand on my hips and raise an eyebrow. “Try again, smartass. And this time feed me a
line that I might have a chance of believing.”
Calvin grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him. He wraps his arm around me squeezing tight.
“I get an alert when someone changes their user name for security purposes. If I ban someone and they
try to come in using a different name, I get immediate notification. So as soon as you changed your
name, I got a text. Believe me, I never would have texted anyone else like that,” he says sincerely, and
I absolutely believe him.
Being this close to him, wrapped in his arms, smelling him, is doing things to my libido. With
the anger drained and trust renewed, I am suddenly overcome with desire. The position that we are in
gives me perfect access to his neck. So I tip up onto my tippy toes and start to suck. And nibble. And
lick. I just can’t get enough, but I can’t do much more in this position, especially with him being so
tall. I start working on his earlobe as a distraction while I walk him back toward the bed. His knees
hit the edge, so I give a little push. “Timber,” I say softly, causing a low chuckle. He starts to sit
back up, but I don’t let him. I start crawling my way up his hard body, running my nose along as I go.
I hear what sounds like a growl coming from deep down, all the more impetus to keep going.
As I approach his waist, I grab the bottom button of his shirt and continue to unbutton my way up,
trailing my tongue along his open skin. Calvin is squirming, unable to lie still and I love every
second of it. As I reach the top, I sit up straddling what would be his lap if he were sitting. My hot
and soaking core coming in direct contact with what feels like a missile in his pants. I lean forward
grabbing his collar, and then pull his dress shirt down his arms until it is completely off. Calvin
bends his arms and puts them behind his head giving me my first glimpse of his tattoo. How I did
miss this when I was watching him jerk off? Oh, yeah, probably because I couldn’t take my eyes off
his hand stroking his magnificent cock.
I am not close enough to read it, but I can see that it is script or a quote or something, scrawled
across his right bicep. I lie down across his body to get a better vantage. I read the words.
Veritas et
Aequitas. I repeat them in my head a few times. I start to work the translation out in my head. I wish I
had paid better attention in Latin class. I think I got it. Well, shit. “Truth and Justice,” I mouth, barely
a whisper. When I finally process them, I freeze. How could two words turn my world upside down?
I can do this. I want to be here. This is my choice. I will not freak out. Calvin is not DeShawn.
Calvin
What just happened? Charlotte was doing an incredible job seducing me then froze up. I hope
she is not having second thoughts because junior down there is not going to be able to be tamed this
time. It’s bad enough that I have been reduced to jerking off every time we speak or hang out.
She is still lying across my body, so I place my hands on her cheeks, looking her in the eyes.
“You still with me, baby girl?” I ask, kissing her gently.
She nods her assent and returns my kiss. “Just zoned out for a sec,” she responds, but still
seems…off.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” I tell her genuinely. Because even though I feel
like I am going to die if I am not inside of her in the next few minutes, I would never push her to do
something she is not ready for.
“No, love, I’m ready,” she responds, and I am caught completely off guard by her term of
endearment. ‘Love?’ Does that mean she loves me? Do I love her? Can you fall in love with
somebody so quickly? I mean, I’m sure it’s possible. I know I have serious feelings for her.
My attention is snapped back to Charlotte when the weight on my chest is noticeably absent. She
is on the floor between my legs trying to pull off my pants. The determined look on her face is
adorable. I lift my ass to give her a little extra help, and she grabs my boxer briefs along with my
slacks. My dick springs free and it is pointing straight in the air, begging for attention. She is eyeing
it like the last donut at a Weight Watchers meeting.
Before I have the chance to react, she has my entire dick in her mouth. Deep throated. Down to
my balls. I shout out wordlessly as I fist the sheets. I lift my head to watch her beautiful lips around
me and all I can see is her nose pressed against the base of my cock. How is she doing that without
gagging? Seconds later, I am seeing stars, my head thrown back to the mattress and my eyes screwed
shut as she swallows and her throat constricts. Mother of god! She glances up at me, locking our
eyes together as she slowly pulls back. Whoa, that’s fucking sexy as hell. She pays some attention to
my swollen head before taking all of me back into her talented mouth. I try not to buck my hips, but
it’s seriously hard not to. She’s driving me insane!
Without warning, she swallows around me again and I explode into her throat. A strangled cry
escapes past my lips. I’ve never heard that sound come out of me before. Holy shit, I can’t believe I
just did that! I’ve never come so fast from a blowjob before. Before she completely pulls away, she
licks every inch of me. My breathing is labored but know I need to say something.
“Damn, woman, that was incredible. I didn’t even have time to warn you,” is all that I am able to
get out. I bring my hands up to rub my face, trying to catch my brain up to what just happened.
The little minx crawls back up my body, planting a kiss on my lips when her face is even with
mine. She then licks her lips and gives me a sensual smile. “That was the plan. Did you enjoy it?”
“Did I enjoy it?” I scoff. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
She barks out a laugh, her light blue eyes dancing in delight.
“I do have one problem, though.”
Her eyebrows are now scrunched together, confused. “You came pretty hard, big guy. I can’t
imagine there being any problem with that.”
I chuckle. I love that I can laugh and be myself with her. There have been very few women in
my life that I could do that with and them not taking offense. I skim my finger up her bare back and I
feel her get goose bumps. “The problem, Pinky, is that you are wearing too much clothing.”
Charlotte eyes flash in defiance, as a coy smile curls her pretty lips. “Then why don’t you do
something about that?” she challenges.
I sit up quickly, taking her with me, causing her to gasp then giggle. I make her stand in front of
me, between my spread legs. I start with the sexy as sin leather skirt. I feel like a kid unwrapping a
birthday present. I find the zipper and pull it down slowly, trying to tease her. Unfortunately, I think it
is harder on me than on her! No pun intended. Once completely unzipped, but before removing the
skirt completely, I slide my right hand into the zipper and cup her ass, giving it a squeeze. She bites
her bottom lip, her gaze locked on mine. My cock twitches at the feel of her firm, yet soft ass. I am
definitely an ass man. Once I cop my feel, and am satisfied enough to continue, I slide her skirt down
her toned legs. I tap her ankle to lift her foot and she complies. Twice. My intention is to remove her
ass kicking shirt – I call it that because of the way the men were looking at her tonight, I know that I
am going to be doing a lot of ass kicking with this chick – but am sidelined when I make my way back
up her calves, to her thigh, then her…what the fuck?
“Um, Charlotte, did you forget something this evening when you were getting dressed to come
here?”
She pretends to think it over, even tapping her chin with her finger. “Nope, don’t think so,” she
says.
I shake my head at her. She’s crazy. “Christ, how many men have you accidently flashed
tonight?”
She laughs. “None, I promise!” She assures me, but she’s laughing and it’s hard to believe her.
I sneer, which only makes her laugh harder.
“I swear, Calvin, my hoo-ha is for your eyes only.”
I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. She’s too much sometimes. I grab her hips and pull her
closer before palming both of her ass cheeks and squeezing. Ah, perfect! I give one cheek a sharp
smack, making her yelp. Her eyes darken slightly. Hmm, it seems my girl likes it a little rough. I need
to get this damn shirt out of the way so I reach up and unhook it. The piece of scrap fabric that she
calls a shirt falls to the floor. I also pull the pins out of her hair, letting all of her golden locks tumble
down over her shoulders.
I groan when I see her beautiful tits. They’ve been haunting my dreams since I first saw them
after our first date. I glide my hands up her ribs to cup their heavy weight. I squeeze gently and she
purrs, her eyes darkening even more. I lean forward and pull one of her tight little buds into my
mouth. Her hands clamp down on my shoulders, her nails digging in slightly. I swirl my tongue around
her nipple before sucking hard. She gasps and lets her head fall back, her body squirming between my
legs. Someone has sensitive nipples. Nice!
I’m in heaven, I swear. The scent of peaches envelopes me. Damn, she smells good. I switch
over to her other breast, teasing her a little more this time by kissing all around her breast and
avoiding where she wants me most. She makes an aggravated noise, grabs my head and forces me to
go where she wants me. I chuckle as I pull her nipple into my mouth. Girl really knows how to get shit
done.
Her skin is so smooth and soft, I can’t help but run my hands all over her as I suck and nibble on
the rosy little bud. She whimpers and I’m done with playing. I want her, like…yesterday. I grab her
and toss her onto the bed. Her blonde hair landing like a halo around her head, standing out in stark
contrast against the dark blue sheets. She smiles sensually.
“Mmm, baby, you are just so beautiful,” I rumble as I crawl over her.
I settle between her legs and kiss her deeply. Her hands come up to cup my face as we devour
each other’s mouths. I rub my cock through her slick folds. God damn! She moans into my mouth and
grinds herself against me. Oh yeah, she’s ready, and so am I. I reluctantly tear my mouth away from
hers and go to reach for a condom in the drawer next to the bed, but Charlotte stops me.
“We don’t need a condom,” she says softly.
I whip my head around to look at her. I know she’s clean, everyone at the club is; if you are a
member you are required to get tested once a month, and if you don’t, you get kicked to the curb.
There will be no diseases running rampant in my club. But there is that other issue to worry about.
“I’m sure we would have gorgeous babies, Charlotte, but I don’t think we’re ready for that,” I
tease with a smirk.
She smiles sadly. “I’m not physically able to have kids,” she admits, her eyes sweeping away
from mine.
My heart hurts for her. I can’t imagine how she must feel. I know that for most women, that is one
of their dreams in life, to have children. But to physically not be able to, it must hurt. I wonder what
happened or what the reason is as to why she can’t have kids, but now is not the time to ask. I feel a
small pang of disappointment that I will never know what our kids would look like, but I toss that
away. I go back to her, covering her with my body, kissing her lips softly.
“I hope that’s not a deal breaker,” she says, trying to make light of the situation. She looks back at
me hesitantly.
“Absolutely not,” I say sincerely, kissing her lips again.
“Okay, good,” she breathes, and I can hear the relief in her voice. It breaks my heart.
Needing to get back to where we were a moment ago, I kiss down to her neck, while my hand
finds her breast. I roll her nipple between my fingers, making her gasp and arch under me. Shit, she is
so responsive. I love it!
Charlotte pushes me off her, forcing me onto my back. She follows, straddling my hips. I stare up
at her, damn, she’s gorgeous. She reaches behind her and lifts my cock off my stomach so that she can
lower herself down onto it. She goes slow, taking me inch by inch. It’s torture. Her hands are gripping
my chest, nails biting into my skin. It takes everything in me not to thrust up into her. I want her to
have control and to do what makes her feel best.
Once she is finally seated, we both moan. So long…I have waited for this moment for so long
and it’s finally here, and I am in fucking heaven! She starts to move. And I’m not talking about just
rolling her hips in the sensual way that some women do. Oh no, she is actually lifting up and dropping
down, and fuck, does it feel amazing. I grab onto her hips to help her. I grit my teeth and try to think
about something other than what she is doing to me; otherwise, I might blow way too soon.
I can’t take it anymore. She wants it hard? I’m gonna give it to her hard. I hold onto her hips
tighter and stop her movements. I bend my knees, digging my heels into the bed, as I start pumping up
into her. She cries out. I slam into her hard enough that my balls are slapping against her ass.
“Oh…god…Calvin! Don’t stop!” Charlotte screams.
Her tits are bouncing like crazy and her hair is all over the place. I need better leverage, so I roll
us over, pull out, and flip her over. I grip her tiny hips and lift her to her knees then plunge back into
her. She screams in pleasure, fisting the sheets under her. I start a hard, fast rhythm that she seems to
really like, going by all of the noise that she is making.
“Fuck, baby, you feel incredible,” I grunt.
“Calvin…oh fuck! I’m gonna come!” She gasps as she reaches back with one hand and claws at
the back of my thigh.
“Do it, Charlotte, come for me!” I pant.
A strangled cry escapes her as her whole body starts to tremble and her core starts to convulse
around me. I close my eyes and drop my head back. I can’t hold back any longer. With a few hard
final thrusts, I come inside of her. I swear it feels like it goes on forever. I moan, pressing into her just
a little more, getting as deep as possible. She whimpers and drops her upper body to the bed. God
damn! That was amazing.
I pull out slowly and drop to the bed next to her. She slides her legs down so that she is laying on
her stomach. She turns her head toward me with a big lazy smile on her gorgeous face. I laugh and
thread my fingers into her hair as I lean in for a kiss.
“I think that was the best sex that I’ve ever had,” Charlotte groans contently.
I grunt my agreement because I really don’t think I can find the words right now to explain how
I’m feeling. We lie there in comfortable silence for a while before I remember what she said earlier
about not being able to have kids.
“Can I ask you something?”
She opens her baby blues and nods.
“Why can’t you have kids? What happened?” I ask quietly, running my fingers through her hair.
She sighs and for a moment, I think she’s not going to tell me.
“I had some problems with my fallopian tubes; ultimately, my left one was removed. I still have
my right one, but it’s badly scarred,” she says with that damn sad smile again. “The doctors told me I
would never be able to have kids.”
“Not naturally, anyway. You could have a fertilized egg implanted into your uterus, right?” I ask.
Charlotte gapes at me, her expression one of shock and confusion. She pushes herself up to her
elbows and blinks stupidly at me. Her mouth works a few times before she speaks.
“Oh my god, I never even thought of that. My uterus isn’t damaged, it is just my tubes, so I’m sure
I could carry a baby if I had a fertilized egg implanted,” she says, her eyes flickering with hope.
The brilliant smile that overtakes her face is one that I will remember for years. She then
launches herself at me. I catch her and wrap her up in my arms. She hugs me tight, her face tucked in
my neck.
“Thank you, Calvin. I’ve always had it in my head that I would never have my own kids, and you
just gave me hope that one day I can,” she whispers.
“Anytime, Pinky, I love seeing you so happy.”
She picks her head up and looks down at me. “I’m very happy,” she smiles before kissing me
senseless.
Chapter Nine
Charlotte
Now that Calvin and I have been going out for a little over three months, my parents have insisted
that they meet him. More like my dad insisted, and I can never say no to him. So they have invited us
over for dinner. I told them it has to be a weekday, since the busiest times at the club are the
weekends and Calvin needs to be there, so they chose today – a Thursday.
I’m a little nervous about this dinner. I don’t want my parents to do or say anything to embarrass
me; plus, my brother, Tommy, is home from college this week and I know he would love to embarrass
me in front of Calvin.
I decide to wear my favorite blue wrap around dress. Not only is it super comfortable, but it is
flattering for my figure. And I am not feeling my best today, so comfort is key.
Ever since our first date, Calvin refuses to drive in my car. So we take his Range Rover to my
parents’ house. I glance over at him and he looks calm, cool, and collected - one hand on the steering
wheel, the other resting on the center console. How can he not be nervous? I mean, he’s meeting my
parents; this is a big step in any relationship. I feel like I am going throw up. Actually, I have been
feeling like that all day. I hope I am not coming down with the flu. That would suck.
“Is your dad into any sports?” Calvin asks, breaking the silence.
“Uh, yeah, he’s into basketball and football,” I reply.
“Jets fan? Knicks?”
“Shit, hell if I know. Are those New York teams?”
Calvin starts to laugh at my lack of sports knowledge, but I laugh right along with him.
Whatever. It’s not like he knows the difference between Prada or Chanel. He doesn’t ask any
more sports related questions, and without that distraction, my nerves begin to flare again. He must
notice because he reaches across the console and grabs my sweaty hand, intertwining our fingers. I
love how that looks. The stark difference of his black weaving between my white – just like a yin
yang. He pulls our hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on each of my fingers. I melt. I have
completely fallen for this man, and he keeps proving why time and again.
He starts another conversation and I am grateful for the diversion. “So, how is the bachelorette
party planning coming along?”
I pep up a little, and swivel to face him, excited to talk to him about this. I may even speak a little
quickly. Calvin tells me I have a tendency to do that when I am excited about something. But he thinks
it’s cute, so it’s okay. I smile to myself at that thought.
“Okay, well, the details are completely hush hush. I want Delilah to be completely surprised, but
I may have to rethink things. She kinda threw a wrench into my plans,” I say animatedly, with a mock
frown.
Calvin laughs at my enthusiasm but appears to be listening attentively. “How so, Pinks?”
I smile shyly at my new nickname. “I like when you call me Pinky, but I think I like that even
better.” This time it’s my turn to pull his hand to my mouth and give it a kiss.
He briefly takes his eyes off the road to look at me and when our eyes lock, no words need to be
exchanged. We haven’t said those words to each other, but I know for sure that I love him. I am
almost positive that he loves me as well.
“Get this…Nick and Delilah have decided that they want to have a joint bachelor/ bachelorette
party! What kind of crap is that? Those two can’t be apart for more than an hour without having
withdrawal symptoms.” I laugh, shaking my head at the lovebirds.
Calvin lets out a hiss, shaking his head as well. “Those two are crazy. But that should make
things easier for you, no? Just plan a big party. You can do it at Club M if you want.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind closing down for a few hours?
“Nah, I love those two. They are like family,” he responds. I smile at the affection he has for
Nick and Delilah. That girl is my world and it makes me happy knowing that she has all of these
people in her life that love her. I wish I could say the same. This damn mask.
I shake my head and the somber thoughts running through it. Stop being such a girl!
“And you’re okay with whomever I invite?” I ask playfully.
Calvin taps his finger on his chin, pretending to take a minute to think. “I don’t know what you
are up to, baby girl, and I’m not sure I really want to. So do what you need to do, but leave me out of
it. Just tell me when you want it and the club is yours.” He is so wonderful. How did I get so lucky?
Not more than two minutes later, we pull in to my parents’ house. Tommy’s old beat up BMW is
already in the driveway. That kid needs a new car.
Calvin
“Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, pleasure to meet you.” I extend my hand and first shake Charlotte’s
father’s hand. As I extend it again to her mother, she grabs my elbow and pulls me close.
“Oh, pish posh with the hand shaking. You hug me when you walk into my home,” she says with a
smile, as I lean down and give her a hug. She is tiny. I mean tiny. I don’t think she even hits five
feet. Charlotte must have gotten her height from her biological father.
“Thank you for the warm welcome,” I say smiling and hand her the bouquet of flowers I brought.
I made sure to pick up a variety of lilies - her favorite according to Charlotte. “Oh, and, for you, Mr.
Fisher…my favorite bottle of Cognac, Remy Martin. Maybe we can enjoy a glass after dinner.”
He nods his head. “Thank you, son,” Mr. Fisher responds with a smile, clearly appreciative. The
smile on his face tells me that he knows that I just gifted him with a top notch Cognac. Score!
“Please, Calvin, call us Bron and Gwen,” her mother says.
She loops her arm through mine and pulls me toward the living room. Bron wraps his arm
around Charlotte’s shoulders and they are following close behind. He is whispering something in her
ear and it must be making her happy because the smile that she is wearing is breathtaking. I see her
giggle and slap him on the shoulder, and then Bron lets out a hearty laugh. I can’t help but smile.
Damn, I love that girl. Well, shit.
Gwen pulls me down by my sleeve so that she can whisper in my ear. “They have a special
bond, those two,” she says smiling, as she watches them, looking like a proud mama.
When we reach the living room, I notice an attractive bi-racial man in his twenties, sitting and
texting. Must be Tommy. Gwen clears her throat to get his attention.
He looks up and beams. You can tell that he has a genuine love for his parents, and especially
Charlotte. “Hey, big sis!” he shouts, and I look to Charlotte.
She detaches from her father and runs full force into Tommy’s arms. “Hey, Tommy boy,” she
answers and gives him a kiss on the cheek. If I didn’t know that he was her brother, I would be a
jealous man simply by the way they look at each other.
Gwen grabs my arm again, but this time I lean down on my own. She whispers in my ear again,
“an even tighter bond…” I nod my head in understanding.
When I look back at Charlotte, I see her backing away from Tommy holding her nose. What the
hell?
“What is that smell?” she asks, then leans back in and takes a whiff. “You stink!” she shouts.
“What are you talking about, I do not!” he responds, sniffing his own armpits.
“Is that cologne?” Charlotte asks, scrunching up her nose.
Tommy’s face turns bright red as he shrugs. “The ladies like it,” he says quietly.
“Well, you need to find a better smelling one.” She giggles.
Tommy grabs her head and shoves it his armpit, then pretends to give her a noogie.
“Alright children,” Gwen claps a few times. “Go wash up, dinner is ready.”
Calvin
Dinner smells delicious. We are sitting in what must be their formal dining room. The home is
modest, but looks like they live comfortably. The dining room table is a large round marble table -
very 80s. I am sure they spent a fortune on it at the time. Charlotte is on my right, and her mother on
my left. Her father is next to her and then Tommy is between his parents.
Gwen has the table set to the nines. I don’t know what she thought that I expected, but I don’t
need anything fancy to be happy. Good food. Good company. What more can a man ask for? As I
look around the table, and feel the love shared in this room, I feel blessed just to be here.
Everyone begins to dig in. It looks as though she has been cooking for days. The table is covered
in all kinds of dishes from salad and dips to meatloaf and rice. I don’t know where to start. Charlotte
must sense my lack of initiative and hands me a plate of vegetables to start. For the next few minutes,
trays pass by continuously, my plate filling up quickly.
Charlotte also has her plate filled, but I notice that she is not eating much. She just keeps pushing
the food around with her fork.
“You okay, baby girl?” I ask quietly, concerned.
“Yes, love. My stomach is just feeling…weird,” she whispers back.
“You want to go home?”
“No, I’m good,” she replies, rubbing my back in reassurance.
As she rubs my back, I find myself strangely turned on. Just the most innocent of touches from her
does that to me. You wouldn’t think being surrounded by my girlfriend’s family would cause my dick
to stir in my pants. But, oddly, I can’t stop thinking about Charlotte’s tight pussy. And how it feels
wrapped around me. As I take my next bite, I subtly slide my hand over from my lap onto Charlotte’s.
She gives me a shy smile, probably thinking that I am offering comfort. Little does she know what a
selfish prick I am really being.
As the conversations continue around me, I slowly slide my hand up toward the junction of her
thighs. She lets out a little “meep” when I reach my destination, but doesn’t try to stop me. Her
mother shoots her a concerned look, but she just waves it off saying that she has the hiccups. I have to
chuckle at that.
I lean closer and whisper in her, “Quiet, Pinky, or your family is going to get quite a show.” I
kiss the skin just below her ear and lean back into my chair.
My finger lingers in that area, completely frustrating her, I am sure. I continue to eat my dinner as
though nothing lewd is happening under the table. That is, until Bron starts a conversation with me
about sports. I take that opportunity to slide my finger along the outside of her thong. The damn thing
is in my way, so I cause a diversion, clanging my fork down, and at that exact time, I hook a finger
through the lace and rip straight through. Adios thong, hello sweet access.
Charlotte’s eyes widen slightly and she pretends to cough, then looks at me. I just smile
mischievously and wink. She groans.
“Charlie, dear, are you sure you alright?” asks Gwen.
I slide my thick middle finger through her slick folds. She clenches and then relaxes.
“Yeah, mom. Why do you ask?”
I circle her clit a few times with my soaked finger, then add my thumb and give it a good
squeeze. She closes her eyes and leans back, her hand resting on her belly.
“Because you hardly touched your food, are making odd noises, and now you’re leaning back
rubbing your stomach. What’s going on?” her mom inquires.
Now her dad and Tommy are looking at her. I begin rolling her hard nub between my fingers and
her breathing picks up.
“I’m fine, mom. I have just been a little nauseous today. Not feeling myself. Maybe I caught the
flu or something.”
“Or something,” Tommy mumbles under his breath.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bron chimes in.
I continue to torture her while her family is discussing her like she isn’t even at the table.
Between rubbing her tight pussy and flicking her clit, I think she is about to come. Then I hear…
“I’m just sayin’. Maybe she’s pregnant,” Tommy says, shrugging as if he just said that the sky is
blue. Except all eyes snap to him, as though he just said the Earth was flat.
Bron smacks him upside the head for his inappropriate comment and I take the opportunity to pull
away from Charlotte’s soaking tight pussy. I smile at my success. Charlotte turns and shoots me an
evil eye, but then she leans over and kisses me, both of us forgetting that we are surrounded by
company. When she pulls back, she whispers, “Dead man walking.”
All I can do is laugh at her empty threats. I know she loved it.
“What the hell, dad? I am just stating the obvious.” Tommy groans.
Charlotte and I make eye contact and she nods giving me permission. How she can read my mind
this soon into our relationship is astonishing. And comforting.
“Tommy, man. Char’s not pregnant. She’s not able to have children,” I say straight.
He looks at me confused. “She’s not?” he asks. No one responds.
Ignoring Tommy, both of her parents look at me. “She told you?” they question me in unison.
“On that note…” Charlotte says, as she stands to leave. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I am
going to have Calvin take me home so I can rest.
“Of course not, darling,” Gwen replies.
“Call me later, love bug,” Bron tells her. She nods in agreement.
“Calvin, I will save the Cognac for our next visit.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for having us. Gwen, thank you for a lovely dinner.” I lean over to shake
Bron’s hand and kiss Gwen on the cheek. She blushes.
“Tommy…’til next time, brother!” I fist bump him across the table and we are out.
Charlotte
“You are in so much trouble,” I say, as we enter Calvin’s office at Club M.
We go right over from my parents’ house because Calvin has to stop by and take care of an issue
with one of his top clients. He is threatening to sue Calvin because the guy’s wife somehow found out
about his membership to the club, got herself accepted, showed up with her own mask, and caught her
husband cheating. How this is Calvin’s fault, I’m not quite sure. Calvin says that the guy is accusing
him of giving out his information, and supposedly, that’s how his wife found out. Which is not true, of
course. Did the dude ever think that maybe his wife followed him? Dumbass.
As we were leaving my parents’ house, Calvin got a call from Nick, who insisted on being
Calvin’s lawyer – even though he primarily practices criminal law - and asked if they could meet at
the club to discuss the suit for breach of contract, among other things, that this douchebag filed.
Calvin sends me a smirk over his shoulder. “For what, Pinky?” he asks coyly.
Like he doesn’t know, ha! “Um, hello! You do remember what you were doing to me throughout
dinner, right?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Calvin says, trying to keep a straight face, but his
lips keep twitching.
He plops down in his desk chair and rocks back, his eyes dancing with delight as I drop my purse
on his desk. I skirt the desk, stopping when I’m standing between his spread knees. I place my hands
on his thighs as I lean forward to kiss him. The kiss is slow and teasing. He moans, his thighs tensing
under my hands.
“Nick will be here any minute,” he whispers against my lips.
“Mmm hmm,” I hum, as I sink down to my knees in front of him.
His eyes go wide. “What the hell are you doing?” He hisses.
I grin evilly up at him as I unbutton his pants and slowly slide the zipper down. “I told you that
you were in trouble, mister,” I murmur, taking his rock hard cock into my mouth before he can so
much as protest.
He groans, dropping his head back against his chair. “Fuck,” he rasps.
It’s only a minute later that there is a knock on the closed door. Calvin’s head shoots up and he
grabs my upper arms and tries to lift me up, but I shake him off and deep throat him. He chokes back a
cry of pleasure before grabbing the edge of the desk and scooting the chair in, so that I am effectively
hidden under his desk, still sucking his dick. It takes everything in me not to laugh my fucking ass off.
The door opens and Nick walks in.
Calvin
I’m going to kill her! Is she seriously sucking my dick under my desk while Nick is standing in
front of me? Why, yes, yes she is! Holy fucking shit! How am I supposed to sit here, while she is
doing what she’s doing, and talk to Nick like nothing is going on? Nick smiles at me and extends a fist
over the desk. I bump mine against his.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Nick says in greeting.
My dick?
“Nothing much, my man,” I say as normal as possible.
Nick sits in the chair in front of my desk and lounges back. Fuck. He’s going to shoot the shit for
a few minutes before getting to business, isn’t he? Charlotte’s warm, wet mouth moves over me
slowly, I can tell that she’s trying to be as quiet as possible. But the slow glide of her mouth is pure
torture.
Nick starts blabbering on about wedding stuff, Delilah, and how sweet and loving she is. Blah,
blah, blah is all I hear, though. I’m focusing too hard on keeping my face neutral. Charlotte’s tongue
swirls around the head of my cock and I swallow back a groan. Nick is completely oblivious as he
rambles on.
“Oh, hey, is Charlie here?” Nick asks, finally gaining my attention.
He motions towards her purse on my desk. I can feel her smile around me. She’s so dead.
I clear my throat to make sure I have my voice. “Uh, no, she left it here. I have to bring it to her
after we’re done here,” I lie.
Nick nods. “Ah, gotcha, so anyway…”
I zone out again. Oh god, her mouth is slowly driving me insane.
“Hey man, are you alright? You falling asleep on me?” Nick’s amused voice filters back in.
My eyes snap open. Shit! I had no idea they had even closed. Nick’s looking at me with a mixture
of amusement and curiosity. Charlotte decides that now is the time to take me deep into her throat and
swallow around me. I choke back a moan by covering it up with a cough. I cover my mouth with my
hand and stare somewhat wide-eyed at Nick. Nick is completely bewildered by my behavior; I can
see it on his face.
“Do you need to do this another time?” Nick asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Ah, yeah, yeah, let’s do this another time, I’m kinda out of it right now,” I mutter, rubbing my
flushed face.
“Ooookay, I’ll give you a call tomorrow then,” Nick says and stands.
“Alright, man, sorry.”
Nick shakes his head, still looking at me funny. “No problem, bud, talk to ya tomorrow.”
Nick gives me another fist bump and starts for the door. He just pulls it open when Charlotte
decides to make her presence known.
“Bye, Nick!” she calls from under the desk.
Nick’s head swings around so fast that I swear he got whiplash. His eyes are wide and his jaw is
on the floor. Charlotte peeks over the desk from between my legs and waves at Nick. Nick stares at
her in shock before his stunned gaze flips to mine.
“Oh my fucking god! Are you fucking serious? No wonder you couldn’t pay attention to anything I
was saying!” he squawks before laughing so hard that he doubles over, one hand to his stomach.
I slap a hand over my eyes. Jesus fucking Christ. I’m never going to hear the end of this shit.
Charlotte is giggling uncontrollably. She is so going to get it for this! When I drop my hand away,
Nick is hanging onto the doorframe, still laughing with tears running down his face. “Oh god…I can’t
wait…to tell Delilah!” he says between fits of laughter.
“Fuck me,” I groan, covering my face with both hands this time.
This is so bad. I can’t believe that she revealed herself. She’s crazy and damn it if I don’t love
her for it.
“I’m gonna go! Leave you to it,” Nick chuckles, making a show of locking the knob before pulling
it closed behind him. Good man.
I glare down at Charlotte. She gives me a sheepish smile and shrugs. My lips twitch. Damn it.
She should not be allowed to be so cute. I grab her arms and pull her out from under the desk. I bring
her up so that her face is level with mine. I stare into her laughing blue eyes.
“Now…you are in so much trouble,” I rumble.
She licks her lips and I watch her eyes darken with desire. “Good.”
Charlotte
I watch Calvin’s face. I can see the moment that his control snaps. I gasp as he shoots up out of
the chair, bringing me with him. He spins me around and bends me over his desk. He keeps one hand
in the middle of my back, holding me down while he uses the other to lift my dress up and over my
ass. I try to look over my shoulder, but I can’t really see what he is doing.
I yelp when his teeth sink into my ass cheek. Not breaking skin, but hard enough to leave a mark,
for sure. Shit, that’s hot! One of Calvin’s fingers hooks into the waistband of my thong that he
destroyed at dinner and pulls it off completely. I’m panting from the anticipation alone. I can’t help
but cry out when I feel his tongue flick my clit.
“Don’t move,” he demands, his voice low and gruff.
I grip the edge of the desk as his hand disappears from my back. Then I feel both of his hands on
my ass, spreading me apart to give him better access. He tortures me with his tongue for god knows
how long. That man has a sinful mouth. I start to squirm a bit needing to feel some sort of friction,
earning myself a bite on my other ass cheek. He takes one last long lick from clit to core before I feel
him move.
“Damn baby, you are so wet,” he rasps, running his cock through my drenched folds.
I whimper and drop my forehead to the desk. I push my ass back, trying to get him to do more, but
he gives one cheek a sharp smack.
“I said don’t move.”
I can’t stand it anymore.
“Calvin, please!”
Without a word, he plunges in deep. I scream as pleasure explodes through me. I clutch the edge
of the desk until my knuckles turn white. He grabs my hips hard enough to leave bruises as he slams
into me over and over.
One hand leaves my hip and finds my hair. He grabs it and yanks my head back. He leans over
me, still pumping his hips and kisses me messily. A guttural noise slips up my throat as my body starts
to tingle and tighten.
“Calvin,” I gasp against his mouth.
He pushes in even deeper than before, throwing me over the edge. My cry sounds strangled as I
feel my body clench around him. He groans, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. With a few final
thrusts, he comes hard.
We both collapse forward, my face smashed against the desk, his forehead between my shoulder
blades. We pant and gasp for air.
“I hope you learned your lesson,” Calvin mumbles behind me.
“No, I don’t think I did. You’re going to have to teach it to me again.” I giggle.
I feel him shake his head against my back. “I don’t know why I try, you’ll never learn,” he
chuckles.
I laugh. “Nope.”
Calvin
Driving to take Charlotte back to her place in silence - after the most incredible sex - is both
comfortable and disconcerting. I reach my arm across the console and rest my hand on her knee. It’s
not lost on me that she is no longer wearing any panties. Or that I was buried deep inside her hot, wet
pussy no more than ten minutes ago.
“Well, that went well,” I say, breaking the silence, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
She places her hand atop mine then squeezes, looking at me with a mixture of a shy and
mischievous smile. “Which part?”
A small laugh escapes. “Good point, Pinks, but I was referring to meeting your parents.”
“Yeah. I just wish I was feeling better. And what the hell was Tommy wearing? As soon as I
got a whiff of him I wanted to throw up.”
I laugh again. I love being around Charlotte. She is so honest and blunt. It’s nice to be around a
woman and not have to guess what she is thinking.
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling yourself, baby girl. Since dinner went so well, how about as soon
as you are up for it, we make plans with my family? They are bugging the shit out of me to meet you
already.” This time I give her hand the squeeze.
She is staring out her window, not saying a word, like she has completely zoned out.
“Charlotte?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Did you hear me? I want you to meet my family.”
“Um…Yeah…I heard. Do you really think that’s a good idea?” she asks, still looking away.
“Of course I do. Why would you ask that?”
“I…do you…are you sure they will be okay with me…being white…” she starts to ask, but I cut
her off midsentence.
I raise my hand to her chin and tilt it so that she is looking me right in the eyes when I tell her,
“Charlotte, they are going to love you because of you, not because of the color of your skin. My
parents are very open minded and accepting. Love is love. Where would you even get that idea?”
Charlotte looks down, pretending to pick nonexistent lint off her dress. “Aisha.”
Are you fucking kidding me? She is always so confident and self-assured. I didn’t think that the
bullshit Aisha was spouting at her even reached her ears. She didn’t seem that affected by her racist
ranting. I thought she was more pissed at the fact that we ran into another ex. Fuck me!
I pull the car over because I have to make sure what I have to say gets across to her. I unbuckle
her seatbelt and grab her by the waist, dragging her into my lap quickly, before she has the time to
protest. We lock eyes, and there is no question that she is paying attention. One hand on her cheek,
the other stroking her hair, I know what needs to be said. It’s time.
“Black, white, or yellow. Christian, Jewish, or Buddhist. Doesn’t matter. On your absolute
worst day, you are a better woman - a better person - than she could ever wish to be on her best day.
There is no comparison. She is not in the same league as you. Not even on the same planet. She
knows it, and tried to use the only thing that she could grasp at – your color- and tried to use it as a
weapon. But, you, Charlotte Fisher, are perfect, just as you are. Beautiful, intelligent, caring, loyal,
honest, funny as hell, and…white. And I love you.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can’t
believe that I just said that. Five years with Aisha and I never spoke those three words.
I open my eyes and she is just staring at me. Shit! I am freaking out. She says nothing.
“Too much too soon?” I ask nervously. I feel like such a dickhead.
Charlotte doesn’t say a word, but shakes her head in the negative. She then wraps her tiny hands
around my neck, leans forward, and kisses me like her life depends on it. Then much too quickly for
my liking, she leans back, both of us completely out of breath, and meets my eyes again. I am
saddened momentarily when I notice the tears running down her face. I use my thumbs to wipe the
tear tracks, as she leans forward once again and whispers against my lips, “I love you, too.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
I am so excited for Delilah’s bachelorette party. It has been a crappy few weeks and I have been
in a funky mood. Calvin probably thinks I am chronically PMS’ing, but I’m not. He also probably
thinks that I have been avoiding meeting his parents, but I honestly haven’t. I can’t help it if every time
we are supposed to go to their house for dinner I get sick. It’s not like I am doing it on purpose, like I
enjoy feeling this way. I can’t seem to shake this damn virus. I am finding it increasingly more
difficult to stomach my meals, and what does go down, doesn’t usually stay down. It’s making me
tired and irritable.
On top of dealing with all of that, I found out that DeShawn’s parole was actually granted. Can
you believe that shit? Anyway, when my dad told me, I started to freak out. But he reassured me a
little when he told me that he was on house arrest and was only permitted to leave to go to work,
court, or to a doctor. Even then, he needed permission from his parole officer. Oh, and I have a
permanent restraining order against him so he can’t come within 500 feet of me, my home, or my
work. Still, I have been having trouble shaking the nervous feeling in my gut, and I guess I have been
taking it out on everyone around me, including Calvin. But the buck stops here, tonight. It is time for
me to have fun again and live my life to the fullest.
Calvin is sitting in my living room watching TV while I finish getting ready. I am almost dressed
when I hear him shout, “Let’s go, woman! What’s taking so long?”
“I am working on it! It’s takes time to look this good,” I holler back.
I am actually almost ready. I am wearing my favorite black skinny jeans and a black corseted top
with hot pink laces, which make my boobs look awesome. And a little bigger than usual. Hmm. No
complaints about that. I am completely dressed, except for my pants. Well, they are on, just not
buttoned. They are a little tight and I want to wait until the last minute to button them. I must have put
them in the dryer by accident. Either that or I have gained a few pounds. If that’s the case, then we
are going to have to stop eating out so much, and I have to start running again. Come to think of it,
when was the last time I went for a run?
I go about finishing my mascara, the last thing that needs to be done before I zip up and we can
get out of here. I reach down to button my pants, and …no go. Not happening. I try a few more times
sucking in my stomach, straightening my back, sticking out my boobs. Nope, not gonna happen. I have
one more idea.
I go to my bed and lie down on my back. This has to work! I struggle again to button my jeans and
I still can’t do it. I am literally fighting with them to get them closed. My knees now bent, ass off the
bed, straining. Moaning. Groaning. That’s when Calvin decides to join the fun. He is leaning on the
doorframe, hands in pocket, legs crossed at his ankles, sexy as sin smirk on his face. Damn, he is
fine!
“What is going on in here?” he asks with that damn smile on his face.
“Stop being a creepy peeper and help me!”
Calvin laughs, shaking his head, pushes off the doorframe, and heads toward me. Stalks toward
me, actually. Like a predator coming upon hurt prey.
“Stop looking at me like you are going to eat me and help me button these damn things,” I say
snarkily, unable to hide my smile.
“What do you need me to do, Pinky? I am more accustomed to taking clothes off you, not helping
to put them on.” He is so sexy at that moment that I actually consider skipping the party and tackling
him to the bed. I can feel my thong dampen and I am beyond aroused. But I know Delilah would kill
me if I missed her bachelorette party. Especially since I planned most of it.
I take a deep breath and Calvin grabs the top of my pants and smashes them together, the hole
finally gets close enough to the button that I can slide it through. I do some contortionist position to
get the zipper up and then flop back down. Holy hell, I can barely breathe.
Calvin stares down at me and our eyes lock. I have no idea what he is thinking, but it looks
serious. I look away first, not really wanting to go there tonight. I try to sit up, but once again, I need
to ask Calvin for help. He grabs my arms and pulls, and I come up off the bed stiff as a board, unable
to bend my midsection.
I go to grab my favorite leopard print stilettos with the hot pink heals, which match my corset
perfectly, but I can’t bend over to reach them. Calvin watches me struggle, then bends to get them for
me mumbling something about damn women and fashion. I just smile and thank him for helping me. I
give myself one more once-over in the mirror before leaving my bedroom. That’s when it happens. I
get a good look at my ass. Holy shit! When did that happen? Calvin must see the grimace on my face.
He closes his eyes, knowing what’s coming next. The one question every man dreads to hear.
“Hey, honey?”
“Yeah, baby girl?” he asks hesitantly. He knows it’s coming. Here it comes. Wait for it…
“Does my ass look big in these jeans?”
“Yes,” he states matter-of-factly.
“What?” I shriek.
Calvin sidles up behind me, us both looking in the mirror. He wraps his arms around my waist
and pumps his rock hard cock in my ass. “This is what that ass of yours does to me,” he whispers in
my ear, then nibbles on my lobe. “I like a little extra junk in your trunk,” he adds, smoothing a hand
down my rump.
I shiver at the sensuality of it all, but it is not enough to distract me from the fact that my man just
told me that I have a fat ass. My man, sigh. “I can’t believe you just told me that I have a big ass!”
He gives me a mischievous smile in the mirror, and then spins me around in his arms quickly. He
looks me dead in the eyes, like he is about to tell me something really serious. “Come on, baby, you
know my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, hun.”
I lean my head back and let out a loud laugh. I can’t believe this man. I point my finger into his
chest and tell him, “You, my friend, are insane.”
Now I know he has lost his mind because he makes a “cuckoo” motion with his finger near his
head, bounces up and down, and sings out, “insane in the membrane, insane in the brain.”
“You have lost your ever freaking mind.”
“Y’all gonna make me lose my mind. Up in here, up in here,” he sings out raising his arms like he
is raising the roof.
I just can’t. There are no words.
“If you are done cataloging the most overplayed hip hop songs from the 90s, maybe we can get
out of here and get our own groove on?”
Calvin lets out a loud bark of a laugh, and I can’t help but smile at him. He really is the most
gorgeous man that I have ever seen, but when he smiles and laughs like that, my heart just melts.
“Just one question before we go,” he says.
“Okay…”
“Who?” is all he asks.
“Who, what?” I ask back, confused as all hell.
“Who let the dogs out, woof woof!” he goes on pumping his fist in the air like he is in Arsenio’s
dog pound.
I just shake my head and walk toward the dog, ready to leave his stuck-in-the-90s ass behind.
“Let’s go Marky Mark. The funky bunch is waiting for us.”
With that, Calvin scoops me up and carries me out to the car, and all I can do is laugh at this
delicious man. Smiling inside, knowing that he is mine.
Charlotte again…
Weekends fly by so quickly. Why is that? I mean, the week just drags and drags and drags. But
as soon as it’s Friday, BOOM, it’s Monday again. And when the days are busy, it ends even quicker.
I am complaining, of course, because it is Monday and I am stuck at work when I would rather be
home lazing around. Things have been really slow here, except for a few unusual hang-ups, so I find
myself daydreaming a lot. I still get a good laugh when I think about the bachelor/ette party a few
weeks ago.
The party went off without a hitch…mostly. Okay, I think it was perfect, with the exception of me
getting sick from the champagne. One damn sip and I was puking. I don’t know if it was the smell or
what, but man did it wreak havoc on me. Anyway, other than that, I think it was awesome, but Nick
may disagree. You see, before they decided to make it a joint party, I had decided that I was going to
get a stripper for Delilah. Mainly because I knew it would embarrass the shit out of her. I also thought
it would be good entertainment for the rest of us gals. I scoured the internet for different companies
that offered “rent-a-stripper,” and when I came across this one, there was no other choice. No turning
back. The Italian Stallion was his stage name, and he had Delilah written all over him.
So, anyway, when they decided to make it a joint party, and Calvin told me that I can invite
whomever I wanted, the Italian Stallion made the top of my list. What ensued once he arrived was
completely out of my control. I am going to skip all the usual stuff – the pranks, the drinking, the
name-calling, the dancing, and the groping – and just tell you about the good stuff. That being, of
course, the Italian Stallion.
Picture this... Nick getting dry humped by a buff, mostly naked, man. Of course, several events
led up to this, so I will have to go back for a moment. When it was time for the stripper to come out,
we sat Nick and Delilah in the middle of the dance floor on chairs. As a precaution, I tied Nick’s
hands behind his back because I wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to react, and Iooking back, I
am so glad that I did. I’m sure he knew that I was getting a stripper for Delilah, that’s why he
complied. What he didn’t know, was that I paid the stripper double to grind his balls all over Nick.
When the Italian Stallion came out, and did his little stripper dance number, I was lucky that Nick
was restrained. He looked like he was about to put the kibosh on the whole thing when Delilah started
slipping singles into the guy’s briefs. Once the Italian Stallion had his fill of Delilah, he gave her a
wink and a kiss on the cheek before making his way over to Nick. Nick’s eyes widened when he
realized what was about to happen. He yelled and screamed for someone to release him. Everyone
was laughing, even the Italian Stallion as he rubbed his ass against Nick’s crotch. The stripper
twerked in Nick’s lap for a moment before turning around shoving his Italian salami in Nick’s face.
Calvin and Parker were literally on the floor hysterical laughing. The final straw was when Delilah
stuck dollars in the collar of Nick’s shirt so that the stripper could take them out with his teeth. Nick
swore a bloody horrible death on me, but it was so worth it.
Just thinking about that night makes me laugh hysterically. I must look like a loon just sitting here
at my desk, cracking myself up. I get myself together and wipe away the tears of laughter so I can
attempt to wrap up my work and go home early. My bed is seriously calling my name. Of course, as
soon as I delve into my work, my phone chirps, telling me that I have a text. Obviously, checking the
text is much more important than getting my work finished, so I reach into my drawer and grab my
phone, swiping it open in the process. Delilah. Yay!
LaLa: How u feeling lady?
Charlie: Like shit…still
LaLa: Sorry :( Anything I can do to help?
Charlie: Nah, just need to let it run its course
LaLa: Maybe it’s time to go to the dr
Is she really going to start this?
Charlie: I’m fine. Don’t need a dr
LaLa: It’s been months. U need a dr
Yep, she sure is.
Charlie: It’s getting better
LaLa: Are u still nauseous?
Charlie: Yes, mom
LaLa: Throwing up?
Charlie: u know I am
LaLa: Then u need a dr
Charlie: ok
LaLa: Are u just yessing me?
Charlie: Maybe?
LaLa: Omg. What if something is seriously wrong?
Charlie: I am fine, La
LaLa: What if it’s a tumor?
She is seriously out of control. I start speaking aloud like Arnold Schwarzenegger as I type the
next line.
Charlie: It’s not a tuma!
LaLa: Ok, maybe not. Have u taken a test?
Test? What the hell is she talking about. She knows that I haven’t gone to see any doctors yet to
take any kind of tests.
Charlie: What?
LaLa: A test, Char. A pregnancy test
I can just see her typing that out hiding the words, like she is whispering some big offensive
word or telling me a national secret.
Charlie: LOL. Come on, u know that’s not even possible
LaLa: Just sayin’, weirder things have happened
Oh my god, she never gives up! I have had enough of this conversation. This will shut her up…
Charlie: I hate your guts
LaLa: U love my guts
Before I get the chance to respond again, my cell rings. I see it’s LaLa and greet her accordingly.
“I hate your guts,” I say, no niceties required.
“Shut up, you love my guts, twat face.” She chuckles. It’s nice having a best friend that I can
insult, and instead of getting angry, she just ups the ante and gives it back to me two-fold.
“No, I hate your guts. I love your boobs, but I hate your guts,” I say, trying not to laugh.
“Please, lady, have you looked in the mirror lately. I don’t know what kind of magic vitamins
you are taking, but you’re catching up to my double D’s.” She snorts.
I look down at my boobs to see what she is talking about. I lift them, squeeze them together, and
do a little shimmy. Maybe they do look a little bigger, but I have put on a few pounds; I guess I just
assumed that it went with the territory.
Delilah and I go back and forth trading a few more barbs when I start to get a hot flash. This can’t
be normal. I end the conversation, pack up, and head to Calvin at the club. Hopefully, I won’t have to
pull off to the side of the road to vomit. Maybe it is time to see a doctor.
Calvin
I am standing behind the bar checking inventory with my bartender when I see Charlotte walk
through the main wooden doors. She is still in her work clothes, wearing a spare mask; Monica
keeps a few at the entry for any members who forget theirs. I look at my watch and it is only two
o’clock. Why the hell isn’t she at work? As she gets closer, I can see that – even while masked – her
face is ruddy, she is sweating, and her breathing is a little heavy. I round the bar to get to her quickly,
wanting to make sure that she is all right. Just as I reach her, she collapses into my arms.
“Charlotte…baby girl… talk to me. Are you okay?” I ask anxiously.
“It’s…I…no,” she says, shaking her head frantically.
“Do I need to call 911?” I ask, trying to stay calm but freaking the fuck out on the inside.
“No, but can you take me to my doctor? I called them on my way here,” she barely gets out, short
of breath.
I scoop Charlotte up into my arms, holler to my bartender to finish what I started, and head out to
my truck. Between Monica and him, I am confident that the club will be taken care of.
I drive to her doctor’s office as quickly as I can without killing us both. When I look over at
Charlotte, she looks…sick. How have I not seen this before? I extend my arm across the console and
rub my hand up and down her arm. Now she is clammy. Shit!
Surprisingly, I am able to get a parking spot right in front of the medical center. She won’t let me
carry her in even though it is completely against my caveman instinct. She waves me off and I let her
walk in on her own accord, but insist on at least having my arm wrapped around her waist. She seems
to have put on a couple of pounds, so she can’t be that sick, right? Not that I care, or would ever
mention a thing about it. She damn near ripped my head off when I told her that her ass is plump and
juicy. I love my girl and her curves.
The nurse calls Charlotte within minutes of her signing in. When she stands up, she reaches her
hand out behind her for me to grab it and follow. It makes me happy that she wants me to go back with
her, but I was going to go regardless. As we make our way to one of the rooms, we first pit stop in a
small alcove for weights and measures. Charlotte makes me turn around before she steps on the scale.
What is it with women and how much they weigh? Shaking my head and with a huff, I do as she asks,
but I can’t help smiling. I would do anything for this girl.
Once we settle into the tiny exam room, the nurse proceeds to take her blood pressure, oxygen
levels, and temperature. She pricks her finger for a quick blood test, and then lastly, she gives
Charlotte a little clear cup with a lid to go pee in. I hang back in the room while she goes to take care
of that business. I like to think that we share everything, but there a few things that can remain
mysterious for now. And watching her use the bathroom is one of them.
Charlotte slowly hops up onto the exam table and I take a seat on a folding chair in the corner,
waiting for what seems like forever for the doctor to see us. She seems to be feeling much better.
Thank god! She really scared me earlier when she came into the club looking as she did. We sit
around making idle chit-chat, then we both start messing with our phones, wasting time. A few
minutes later, my phone bings denoting a text.
Pinky: Come here often?
I let out a chuckle. Not sure if it’s more because we are sitting five feet away from each other
and she is texting me, or because she just used the cheesiest pick up line on me.
Calvin: Def not my usual hang out
Pinky: No? I can totally see u as a hot dr coming in to treat me
I glance up from my phone and raise an eyebrow at her. Is she trying to get me worked up? She
just smiles sweetly, but I can see through the sweetness to the evil temptress underneath.
Calvin: Funny u say that b/c I think u are due for an anal probe. I can help u with that
I hear her snort and I can’t help but smile. Before she gets the opportunity to shoot me down, the
doctor walks into the room. Nice timing, doc!
“Good afternoon, Ms. Fisher,” he says, looking back at her file. Smooth doc, he can at least look
at her file before entering the room.
“Hello,” Charlotte answers confidently.
He then turns to me and I stand, extending my hand.
“Derek Fox, MD,” he introduces himself pretentiously. Douchbag.
“Calvin King, boyfriend,” I respond mockingly.
We shake hands and he turns back to Charlotte. “Okay if we speak in front of present company?”
he asks and I want to knock him upside his head.
“Of course,” she replies, winking at me. She extends her hand toward mine, grabs it, and pulls
me closer.
“Alright then, what seems to be the problem?” he asks.
Charlotte spends the next five minutes explaining all of her symptoms, when they started, how
long they have lasted, and how she has been treating them. I feel like the absolute worst boyfriend in
the world. I can’t believe how long this has been going on and I haven’t insisted on her seeking
treatment. I am an ass.
Dr. Fox is diligently taking notes, barely looking up to make eye contact with Charlotte as she
spills her medical guts. He really is a tool. When he finally realizes that Charlotte is finished talking,
he continues to studies his notes for a few more minutes before speaking. Charlotte and I just give
each other a look, both knowing what we are each thinking. Both trying not to laugh at this ass hat. I
can’t wait to get her out of here and continue our conversation about anal probing.
He taps his pen on his chin a few times, and then the genius finally starts asking questions. “So,
you have been feeling nauseous for a few months, you say?”
“Yes,” she answers politely.
“And you have gained some weight?” he asks, stupidly. She just got through telling him all of this
shit.
“Yes,” she again answers politely, but I know better. Charlotte is starting to get annoyed, and that
is one girl you don’t want to piss off.
“When was your last menstrual cycle?”
Charlotte pauses a few seconds. I can tell that she is trying to work out the time period in her
head. No pun intended. “About three months or so, I’m never regular.” She shrugs, thinking nothing of
it. Neither do I, come to think of it.
“Have you taken a home pregnancy test?” Dr. Douchebag asks.
“No,” she answers simply.
“Why not?” he asks looking dumb founded. Can I punch him in the face now?
“I can’t get pregnant,” she answers simply.
“What do you mean, you ‘can’t get pregnant’?”
“I am physically unable to get pregnant. I only have one fallopian tube and it is badly scarred.
My gynecologist told me that there is practically no chance of getting pregnant.” I move closer so I
can grab her hand again, knowing that this is a very sensitive subject.
“’Practically none’ is not the same as ‘none,’ Charlotte,” he replies. Charlotte and I turn to look
at each other again, both of us wide eyed.
“What are you saying, Doctor?” I ask, while the cat has Charlotte’s tongue.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Dr. Jerk Face back tracks. “You left a urine sample, right?”
he questions.
Charlotte nods her head.
“Okay, I will have the nurse dip in a pregnancy test stick while I complete my physical exam. I
will also have her come in here to do a rapid strep test and take a mucus sample to rule out the flu,”
he spits out rapid fire as he heads for the door. Dr. Dill Weed has some great bedside manner.
He leaves for a brief moment to get the nurse, but no words are exchanged between Charlotte and
me. I can’t take the silence and not having my hands on her, so I lean in to hug her and whisper in her
ear. “Whatever happens, we are in this together. No matter the results, I will be with you every step
of the way.” She nods, and although she doesn’t say anything, I feel her smile on my neck. After a few
more seconds, she finds her voice.
“I don’t know what to say. Having a baby has never been in the cards for me. I don’t even want
to hope for it. I don’t know how to feel. Will I be disappointed if the test comes back negative or
positive? This is freaking insane. It’s just the flu, right? It’s probably just the flu.”
“Yeah, it’s probably just the flu, baby girl,” I tell her knowing that is what she needs to hear;
however, on the inside, I am convinced that she is pregnant. And interestingly, that doesn’t scare me
one bit.
The nurse and doctor return as Charlotte finishes convincing herself that she has the flu and that
there is no way she is pregnant. The nurse takes all of the tests the doctor ordered, and he performs
his physical examination.
“I’ll be back with the results,” he tells us, “try to relax.”
As soon as the door closes, I try to cut her anxiety with a little comic relief. “Why do people
always tell you to try to relax when they know that there is no possibility of that happening? It’s like
telling a woman to calm down after finding her man cheating. Not gonna happen.”
I get the reaction I was looking for when Charlotte lets out a chuckle. That laugh gets to me every
time. I can’t help but laugh along with her. As we are laughing, our eyes meet, and the mood in the
room suddenly shifts from nervous energy to electric lust.
“I know that look, Pinky. Not here, and not until we know what’s going on with your health.”
Charlotte pouts, sticking out that lower lip and I just want to chew on it. So I do. My cock starts
stirring in my pants, it wants attention, and it wants it now. Of course, Dr. Twat Face uses his perfect
timing to come back into the room and kill the mood. And my erection.
Charlotte sees the tent in my pants, and the strain on my face and lets out another snicker. Evil
little minx will pay for this later. I decide to keep my position right smack against her. No telling what
the results will be, and I want her to know she can always lean on me.
“So I have good news and bad news. Which would you like first?” he inquires.
Charlotte and I both take a deep breath at the same time and let it out slowly. “Bad,” she
answers before we discuss what we want to hear. It is her results, so…
“I saw in your chart that you have a cat. Do you still have a cat?”
“Um, yeah,” she replies.
“Is there somewhere else the cat can live for the next few months?”
“Why? Am I allergic to Horse? Is that why I have been so sick?”
“No, Ms. Fisher. Have you ever heard of Toxoplasmosis?”
“No, is that what I have?” Charlotte asks worriedly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask Dr. Ass Clown. I have to sit down for a minute to gather my
thoughts. Is this really happening? Holy fucking shit!
Charlotte turns to me with a stunned look on her face, obviously not understanding my reaction.
However, I do know what Toxoplasmosis is.
“Calvin? You’re scaring me. What’s happening?” she asks me, half freaking out.
The doctor starts to explain, but I just hold my hand up to him. This is my girl. I got this. I stand
back up, smiling ear to ear.
“Baby girl, look at me,” I tell her. I need her full attention for this. “Horse is going to come live
with me for a few months. Then you will follow. Time for us to live together,” I tell her. There will
be no ifs, ands, or buts about this.
“Calvin, if I wasn’t freaking out before, I am now. What’s happening? Am I dying?”
“No, Pinks, you’re not dying. We’re pregnant.”
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte
Let’s just say that being the maid-of-honor is not all that it’s cracked up to be. I have a huge list
of responsibilities – make sure the guests are taken care of, get Delilah dressed, make sure she
doesn’t freak out, make sure Nick arrives on time, get the rings to Calvin, deliver the corsages, keep
Delilah calm, and, oh yeah, make sure Delilah doesn’t freak the hell out!
Being pregnant, feeling like crap, and thinking that I look like a whale is not helping. I’ve just
started showing, my boobs have blown up to twice their normal size, and so has my ass. When smells
aren’t making me retch, and I’m not barfing from morning sickness, I’m shoveling food in my face.
Why the hell it’s called morning sickness I will never understand because I am throwing up morning,
noon, and night. Add to that this strapless red lace and chiffon number Delilah guilted me into…this is
going to be an interesting wedding.
I haven’t had one minute to relax. Delilah and I spend most of the morning at the salon getting our
hair and make-up done. She goes for a beautiful updo with pearls weaving through the intricate knots.
Her make-up is subtle, but with bright red lipstick. I leave my hair down and curled to the max, then
pinned to the side, sweeping over one shoulder. Perfect for a strapless dress. My make-up is a little
more dramatic, but I leave my lips bare, with just a little gloss.
Next we head to Club M, so I can help get her into her wedding dress. We use Nick and
Delilah’s special VIP room upstairs as the bridal suite, and thankfully, Calvin had the forethought to
remove the sex swing. Thank god because that would be pretty awkward if her father came to visit us
in here. It has turned into a very emotional time – our make-up be damned - as Delilah decided to
wear her mother’s original wedding dress as a tribute to her. It hasn’t been that long since her passing
and emotions are still raw. It is a beautiful mermaid, bateau neckline, wedding gown with a romantic
lace overlay, and she looks absolutely perfect in it. I help her slip on her red lace shoes, Nick’s idea
of course, and I turn her around so she can look at herself in the mirror. Breathtaking.
The ceremony is pretty short and sweet and absolutely perfect. “Doll, life with you is like
dreaming with my eyes open…” Nick starts. He gets a bit choked up as he continues his vows, which
almost makes my overly emotional pregnant self burst into tears, but ultimately, I hold it together.
They decided to write their own vows and I really like the extra touch that the personal thoughts
bring. Who really agrees to honor and obey in this century anyway? It’s so archaic. Calvin, who
looks incredibly handsome in his tuxedo with the red vest and tie, stood proudly at Nick’s side, a
stupid happy grin on his face the entire time. I just want to jump him looking so scrumptious over
there. Did I mention what a horndog this pregnancy has turned me into?
After the ceremony is the cocktail hour for the guests with pass-around hors d'oeuvres, a carving
station, and a beautiful ice sculpture. And an open bar, of course. I don’t get to see – or eat - much of
it because we are taking pictures for what seems like forever. We are taking pictures of all of the
different family combinations and whatnot, and it briefly saddens me, as it is a reminder that my
parents weren’t able to make it to my best friend’s wedding. But I understand, my great aunt is ill, and
they needed to travel to help her. Family first. Still, I miss them and wish they were here. Anyway,
once pictures wrap up, I need to take Delilah back to the suite to help her freshen up, in preparation
for the reception. As I begin my ascent up the stairs, my attention is waylaid as Calvin is walking
toward me with his parents. Shit! I don’t want to meet them all frazzled like this, plus I need to
attend to Delilah. Maid of honor duties and all that jazz. I hug and kiss them both, but very graciously
ask if we could chat later, as I know Delilah is waiting for me in the suite. Of course, they are polite
and understanding, and shoo me up the steps, smiling all the while.
The reception! Calvin and I – the only wedding party members - are introduced into the ballroom
first, and then their fathers, Anthony and Rick. They are both in a great mood and acting silly,
walking in arm and arm like they are each other’s date. The guests have a good laugh at their
expense, but they don’t mind. Nick and Delilah dance their first dance to…what else? None other
than Hey There, Delilah by the Plain White T’s, being covered by their fabulous wedding singer…
this time. We join in halfway through the song, do a little dancing, and have a bunch of laughs before
going to sit down for an absolutely delicious dinner with the bride and groom.
Calvin is very attentive and makes sure that I am feeling well and keeping hydrated. He even
orders me a ginger ale from the bar when he grabs himself a beer. I am having a hard time keeping my
hands off him and he knows it because he keeps leaning over and kissing my exposed shoulder,
teasing me. Pain in my ass! He will pay when we get home. Did I say when “we” get home? It would
be nice…
Just before it’s time for dessert, Calvin and I get up to do a joint maid-of-honor/best man speech.
The DJ hands us each a microphone and we head out onto the dance floor in front of the bridal table.
Mic in one hand, glass of champagne – sparkling cider for me - in the other. We have been rehearsing
what we are going to say for the past few days.
“We are pretty sure that almost everyone in the room knows who we are, but if you’ve already
had too much alcohol and can’t remember, I’m Calvin King, Nick’s best man,” Calvin says with his
most charming smile.
The crowd of almost a hundred people chuckle.
“And I am Charlie Fisher, Delilah’s maid-of-honor. I’ve known LaLa for a long time…
sometimes I think it’s been too long,” I say, giving my best friend a sideways glance, making her
snicker.
Calvin makes a noise of agreement.
“She’s my best friend, and I was with her the night she met Nick right here in this very club. I
knew that the moment that she left me high and dry to go dance with some ridiculously hot dude, that
she’d found THE one,” I say with a chuckle.
The crowd laughs and claps.
“I met Little Bit, er, Delilah, shortly after she started working for Nick. I had a feeling that he felt
something toward her early on because he refused to let me ask her out and got jealous when I flirted
with her, which is usually something he wouldn’t care about,” Calvin says.
I raise an eyebrow at Calvin, making him paste a shit-eating grin on his face. I roll my eyes and I
hear the crowd snicker.
“Anyway, we obviously knew that they were perfect for each other even before they knew it
themselves,” I say.
Calvin nods. “And honestly, I don’t think that there is another couple on this earth better suited
for each other than these two…well, maybe Charlotte and I, but they are a really close second,” he
smirks, slipping his hand around my waist and giving me a squeeze and chaste kiss on the cheek while
the crowd laughs again.
We both turn to look at a smiling Delilah and Nick. “We wish you the very best of luck and a
long happy marriage, we love you guys,” I finish.
“Salud!” Calvin says, raising his glass.
Everyone cheers and raises their glasses, clinking them together before taking a sip. Calvin leans
down and kisses me softly on the lips before we hand the microphones back to the DJ and go give
Delilah and Nick hugs and kisses. We again take our seats at their table.
The tables are still being cleared as the cake is being wheeled out. I hear a little commotion in
that direction and look up to see Fronk yelling at the servers, frantically making sure that the cake
looks flawless. And, of course, it looks no less than picture-perfect. I smile knowing what those poor
guys are dealing with. I was stuck going to all of the tastings with Delilah because Nick said that he
had his fill of Fronk. Do you know how hard it is to call a grown man “Fronk” without wanting to
laugh in his face? Well, let me tell you, it’s very hard, especially when your best friend makes you
watch Father of the Bride a hundred times while planning her wedding.
The guests begin to sing The Bride Cuts the Cake, and I watch as Nick and Delilah feed each
other pieces very carefully to make sure that they don’t make a mess of it. Where the hell is Calvin?
The band then joins in the action playing the Jaws theme song, while Calvin and Parker sneak up
behind Nick. They grab him, holding his arms behind his back, so that Delilah can smash cake in his
face. Damn, she gets him good! The guests start howling with laughter. I think Fronk has a heart
attack, and I almost pee in my pants laughing so hard.
While Delilah helps Nick clean up, Calvin comes back and sits down next to me. He wraps his
arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close, pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.
“Baby, I want you to come meet my parents,” Calvin murmurs in my ear.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Ever since I told them that you are pregnant, they’ve been dying to meet you.” He smiles, his
nose brushing against my temple.
I can’t help but smile. Our little miracle baby.
“Let’s go then.”
Calvin
I take Charlotte’s hand as we walk over to where my parents and Carla are talking to Parker,
Delilah’s dad, Rick, and Nick’s dad, Tony. I can tell that Charlotte is a little nervous, but when I look
over at her, she gives me a reassuring smile. I give her hand a squeeze and smile back.
We come up between my dad and Carla. My mom is standing on the other side of my dad. “Sorry
to interrupt, but I want to formally introduce Charlotte to my parents,” I say to Tony, Rick, and Parker.
They all smile and nod, then walk away gracefully, giving us some privacy. Except Parker, per usual,
he doesn’t get the hint, or just likes his nose in the middle of everything.
“Oh, it’s about time! Charlotte, we are so excited to meet you. I’m Yolanda,” my mother chirps,
reaching out to pull Charlotte into another big hug. “I didn’t get my fill earlier!” She chuckles as she
squeezes my girl.
“Please, call me Charlie,” my lovely girlfriend says.
My mother lets her go and covers her mouth with her hands as she looks down at Charlotte’s
little baby bump. “Oh my lord, can I touch your belly?” she asks, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes.
Charlotte smiles wide and nods, giving her the go-ahead. My mother places both hands on her
belly and rubs small circles, bending over to coo softly to our little peanut. When she straightens up,
she pulls Charlotte back into a hug and whispers how so very happy she is to have a grandchild on the
way. I can’t help but grin the whole time.
Once my mother relinquishes her hold on Charlotte, I introduce her to my dad. “Dad, this is
Charlotte. Charlotte, my dad, Calvin King Jr.”
My dad takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. “It is so great to finally meet you, at least now we
know that you were pregnant and not trying to avoid us,” he teases with a smirk.
Charlotte blushes. “I really wasn’t trying to avoid you on purpose.”
My dad chuckles. “I know, honey, I know.”
“This is my sister Carla. Carla, this is Charlotte,” I say, motioning to my sister.
Carla coolly shakes Charlotte’s hand, eyeing her up in a way that I didn’t expect from her. I know
that she and Aisha were close when we were together, and that they still talk every now and then,
which makes me wonder if my sister has that bitch filling her head with nonsense. By the way Carla is
looking at Charlotte in disgust, I would have to say that it’s a real possibility. I’ll bite my tongue for
now, but I will be having a talk with my little sister soon. This shit won’t fly.
I look back at my dad to find him studying Charlotte with a slight frown, as if he’s trying to figure
something out.
“What’s the matter?” I ask him.
“It’s just…I feel like I know you from somewhere, Charlotte. I just can’t pinpoint it,” my dad
says, thinking hard. “What is your last name, hon?”
“Fisher.”
“Fisher…Fisher… I wonder if it’s from a case I tried about 12 years back. Calvin, you know the
case I’m talking about, the one with the young girl that was…” The words die on my father’s lips as it
dawns on him what he is saying.
As my father is talking, I notice that Charlotte has become deathly pale, even more so than
normal. I frown at her reaction, not understanding what is going on with her. I immediately think that
maybe she’s feeling sick again and might need to throw up.
“…Bron…Bron Fisher!” Calvin King Jr. snaps his finger as he figures it out. “That’s it!” he
exclaims triumphantly.
Now it’s my turn for all of the blood to drain out of my head. Did my dad just say Bron Fisher?
As in Charlotte’s dad, Bron Fisher?
“The hearing for that scum’s parole was about six months ago actually,” my dad growls, not
noticing the tension and silence happening next to him.
The betrayal hits me hard and fast. How could she not tell me that she had been raped when she
was younger? That is huge! It should be something that I should have known once our relationship got
off the ground. Then I realize what my dad has just said and I start putting two and two together. That
fucker’s parole hearing was about six months ago. Could that have been the day that everyone
disappeared on me? Does that mean that Delilah, Nick, and Parker all know about this? I turn to look
at Parker who is looking like a deer in headlights. Yup! He fucking knows! Sonofabitch!
I turn to look at Charlotte, who is shaking uncontrollably. She stares up at me, her eyes showing
hurt and anger. What the fuck for? I’m the one who should feel like that. She’s the one who didn’t tell
me who she really is.
“You knew this entire time?” She snaps.
The crowd around us is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
I shake my head in confusion. “What? How the hell would I know? You never told me!” I snap
back.
“Your dad just said that you knew about that case.”
“Yeah, I knew about it, I went to law school and studied it. How could you not tell me about
this?” I demand. “I mean, you were raped when you were 15! I would think that would be something
that you would tell your boyfriend and father of your child!”
“You studied the case. Your father was the prosecutor. How could you NOT recognize my
name?” she questions me through gritted teeth, her eyes welling up.
“I told you that I didn’t know. You should have told me!” I shout at her, unable to rein in my
temper.
My father steps forward and tries to diffuse the situation. “Calm down, Cal. This is neither the
time nor the place,” he says to me pointedly.
“It’s not like it ever came up in conversation, Calvin. What was I supposed to say? Oh, by the
way, I was raped when I was 15, how’s your coffee?” she squawks.
I don’t heed my father’s advice and continue with my tirade. “You lied to me!”
“No, I didn’t!”
“It’s a lie of omission. And you lied about where you were that day when you, Delilah, Nick, and
Parker all disappeared. You were at that hearing, weren’t you?” I snarl.
“Son,” my father bites out in warning.
She opens her mouth to say something, but shuts it, apparently unable to come up with anything. I
feel my body vibrate with anger. She’s kept so much from me. She’s lied about so much. So many
things are clicking into place now. Her avoidance of my previous advances and the fact that she had
only slept with white guys before me. She obviously had some kind of hang up when it came to black
guys. I knew it! And who could blame her, one raped her, but she should have told me!
We start to draw attention, but I am really too heated to care. Cool, calm, and collected Calvin
just took a flying leap out the window. Another thought pops in my head and it makes my blood run
cold. I glare down at her. “What really happened that made it so you were ‘supposedly’ unable to
have children? Or did you lie about that, too, to try and trap me?”
“Calvin!” both of my parents exclaim.
Charlotte flinches as if slapped in the face. Her expression one of shock and agony. “How could
you even say that?” she rasps, placing her hands on her belly protectively.
“I don’t know what to think anymore, I don’t know what the truth is!” I bark.
Tears begin to stream down her face, and normally I would hate to see her like that, but I’m too
livid to care.
“I ended up pregnant by the asshole that raped me. It was a tubal pregnancy that almost killed me.
The doctor removed one tube, and the other was badly damaged. That’s why I was told that I could
never get pregnant,” she cries quietly.
Stunned. I am absolutely floored by this admission. She had been pregnant before. Pregnant with
the baby of the guy who raped her. What. The. Fuck.
“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” I roar, turning everyone’s head in our direction.
“That’s enough!” my dad interjects, scowling, and steps into my personal space. He means
business.
That’s when Parker steps in front of me and starts pushing me back. “Come on, man, let’s go get
some air.”
I’m panting hard from my anger, but allow Parker to push me back toward the exit. Charlotte is
sobbing into her hands with my mother trying to console her. I am so fucking furious right now that I
don’t even know what’s going to happen between us. How can I forgive her for this? How can she say
that she loves me, yet keep so much of herself from me?
Charlotte
Did that really just happen? I am completely mortified and so hurt by what he said. Never in a
million years did I think that Calvin could be so cruel, I guess I’m wrong. I quickly try to pull myself
together before causing more of a scene than we already have. Yolanda is hugging me, trying to
soothe me. I’m shocked by her kindness. I thought for sure that she would take Calvin’s side.
I get myself under control and dry my face with a tissue that someone hands me. Yolanda is
standing in front of me, her hands smoothing up and down my arms. I take a chance to look at her face,
but she is smiling warmly at me. I must look confused because she lets out a little chuckle.
“Sweetheart, just because he’s my son, doesn’t mean that I agree with everything he says or does.
I feel horrible about what he said and I have no excuses for his behavior. I will tell you that I did not
raise him that way.”
“Maybe if he wasn’t dating a white chick he wouldn’t be having these problems,” I hear Carla
mumble from where she is standing next to her father with her arms crossed over her chest.
Okay, a girl can only take so much abuse in one night. I let Calvin off easy because he completely
caught me off guard, but this bitch right here is going down, metaphorically speaking, of course. Both
Yolanda’s and Calvin Jr.’s heads whip around to stare at their daughter in shock.
“Carla!” Yolanda exclaims.
She just shrugs and sticks her nose up at me.
I extract myself from Yolanda’s comforting arms and go stand face to face with Carla. We are
pretty much the same height. I put on the meanest, bitchiest, big girl panties I’ve got and let her have
it.
“This ‘white chick’ is carrying your brother’s child. And no matter what, as the mother, I will
say who can and can’t see the baby. You want to be Auntie Carla? You want to have anything to do
with this precious baby? Then you better check yourself because as of right now, you are on my shit
list, and have lost your privileges to be a part of this baby’s life,” I hiss.
I can tell that I hit a nerve because her eyes widen a hint and her mouth opens to protest.
“Plus...” I say before she can speak. “I don’t give a shit about what you think about me, or what
anybody thinks, actually. The only person that matters right now is my baby. So you can take your
racist comments and elitist attitude, and shove them up your ass, you stuck up bitch.”
“Hey, what the hell is going on over here?” Nick’s deep voice asks, his tone saying that he is less
than pleased.
“Nothing, Nick,” I say heatedly as I step away from Carla. “Where’s Delilah?”
“Dancing with her dad. Where’s Calvin?” he asks in return.
“Who the fuck cares?” I snap and stomp onto the dance floor where Delilah is laughing and
dancing all silly with her dad.
She sees me coming and her smile fades fast. She excuses herself and comes to meet me. “Oh my
god, what’s going on?” she asks in concern.
“Can we go up to the suite?” I sigh. I’m suddenly really tired, all this activity and emotional
stress is taking its toll.
“Yes, of course,” she says without hesitation and starts to lead me away.
Yolanda meets up with us at the bottom of the stairs. “Charlie, may I come with you?”
She looks like hell and both of her children are acting like assholes - that’s gotta sting. I give her
a small smile and hold my hand out for her. She’s been nothing but kind to me and I will not shut her
out of my life because her son is a douchebag. She is the grandmother. She gives me a relieved smile
and takes my hand.
Once locked away in the mock bridal suite, I tell my best friend what happened between Calvin
and me, and then between Carla and me. I lie down on the bed when I’m finished, unable to fight the
exhaustion anymore. I hear Yolanda tell a furious Delilah to go enjoy her wedding and that she will
keep an eye on me. Delilah reluctantly agrees. The only thing I remember after that is Yolanda
whispering how so very sorry she is.
When I wake, it’s to Delilah’s soft voice, her hands whipping around wildly as she is having a
heated discussion with someone, but trying not to wake me. I rub my eyes and blink up at her. I look
around to see that it’s a brooding Nick, standing by the end of the bed, arms crossed over his chest,
bearing the brunt of her fury. Parker is sitting in a red velvet wingback chair in the corner, his elbows
on his knees, hands covering his face, rubbing his forehead up and down. Guess I’m not the only one
with a headache. Yolanda is nowhere to been seen.
“Where did Yolanda go?” I ask, still a bit drowsy from sleeping.
“She left a little bit ago. We’re the only ones left,” Delilah says from her seat on the bed next to
me. She reaches over tentatively to touch my belly and I instinctively nod, giving her permission. I
think she is doing it to relax us both. And remind me of what’s really important here.
“We’re gonna take you home,” Nick says.
“What? No way, it’s your wedding night, you’re supposed to go home and hump like bunnies,” I
mutter, pushing myself up into a sitting position.
Delilah giggles while Nick lets out a snort. I can’t figure out what just happened until Delilah
leans over and picks up my dress a little.
“Your big ass pregnant boob just popped out, flashing my husband. Get your shit together, lady,”
LaLa tell me with a huge smile on her face.
“Whoops! Sorry!” I laugh, shrug, and then lift the top of my dress higher. “Anyway, I can get
myself home just fine.”
“This is not up for debate, so don’t bother,” Nick says sternly, sending me a pointed look.
I growl. Dammit. He never backs down when he gives that look. Fucking lawyers.
Parker finally stands to join the conversation. He walks over to Nick and clasps him on the
shoulder. “I got it, my man. Take your wife home and get your freak on. I will make sure Charlie
makes it home safely.”
“Are you sure?” Nick asks him, as if I’m not even in the room or have a say in the matter.
Parker reassures him and they continue their conversation quietly and secretively. I hear a few
words here and there, like “acting like an asshole” and “take care of it.” I smile briefly knowing that
however shitty my life might be right now, I really do have the best friends a girl could ask for.
Between the support they gave me at the parole hearing, and how they are standing behind me today, I
don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.
As their conversations ends, I offer my two cents. “Where’s your dickhead best man?” I grumble
as I get out of bed and start collecting my things.
“I think he’s locked himself away in his office,” Nick snarls. “Don’t you worry; I will have
words with him.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, not caring one way or another.
I can raise this baby on my own, and I’m going to be a kick ass mom. He wants to be a deadbeat
dad? Then that’s his prerogative. Have at it. I don’t fucking need him. I’ll get over the pain in my
heart, and I’ll get over him. I will not let him break me. From my lips to god’s ears!
I really didn’t think not telling him about the rape was a deal breaker, guess I was wrong. It has
nothing to do with anything anymore, so it shouldn’t matter. It’s in the past, where it needs to stay.
And like I chose to get pregnant by my rapist. Please. Whatever, life goes on. Nobody knows that
better than I do.
Chapter Twelve
Calvin
I hate this fucking pussy. Here kitty kitty kitty. Come on, dude, cut a brother some slack, will ya?
Here kitty kitty kitty. I wake up early this morning, before the sun comes up. Actually, I’m not sure
that I even fell asleep last night. Not talking with Charlotte is absolutely killing me. I get my pathetic
self moving and go to the gym so that I can kick the punching bag's ass for a few hours, trying to get
out my aggressions. The solitude sucks, but not knowing how Charlotte and the baby are is what's
doing me in.
Normally, I would just shower at the gym then head to the club, but I need to go home to feed my
cat. Charlotte's cat. Dammit! I need to feed Horse.
He still scares the shit out of me. I really think that he does it on purpose. I don’t want him near
me, but he is constantly following me around and trying to get me to pet him. He climbs onto my lap
when I sit on the couch, and when I’m sleeping, he comes and sleeps between my legs. He makes it
impossible not to touch him. I have to touch him if I want him to move.
Horse finally greets me at the door after I call for him a few more times. He meows and winds
himself around my legs as I walk to the kitchen to get him some food. I open a can of the nasty ass cat
food that Charlotte feeds him and use a fork to scoop it out into his bowl on the floor. That shit smells
disgusting. I hate it. After he digs in, I head for the bathroom where his litter box is. No doubt, it
needs to be cleaned out. Fucker craps at least three times a day, and good god, it smells horrendous.
Sure enough, there are a couple of nice size turds sitting there, uncovered. Aren’t cats supposed
to cover their shit? I grab a plastic bag that I keep under the sink for this purpose and the pooper
scooper. I then scoop out the clumps of piss and shit. I catch a whiff of the poop and swallow back a
gag. I press my forearm to my nose to try to block out the smell for a moment.
Just as I tie up the bag, I hear a soft meow behind me. Horse rubs against my leg before climbing
into the litter box.
“Dude, seriously, I just cleaned that out,” I grunt. I shake my head when I realize that I’m talking
to a damn cat.
Horse digs around a couple of times before popping a squat and taking a dump. The rancid smell
fills the bathroom causing me to wretch, and I run out of the room before I puke. Oh god, I don’t know
how much more of this cat I can take. Maybe I can get Little Bit to take the bastard.
A few minutes later, Horse finds me in the living room and twirls his little black body around
my legs. “I don’t know why you like me so much because I hate you,” I mutter, bending over to give
his little head a scratch.
I take a quick shower and head off to work, leaving a couple of treats on the floor for Horse.
Spoiled pussy.
Calvin again…
Six days, eight hours, twenty-one minutes. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve spoken to
Charlotte. Every moment of that time has been agony. Yet, I can’t find it in myself to apologize to her.
She lied to me. Should I have said what I said? No. I can’t take it back now, either. I’m still angry that
she never told me about her past. Everyone and their mother is pissed off at me right now. Monica
barely gave me a head nod and a dirty look when I walked into the club a few days ago. Nick and
Parker have been very short with me the few times that they actually answered their phones. And my
parents, Jesus Christ, they have done everything in their power to make me feel like the worst son
ever. That’s another thing that pisses me off, nobody is even trying to see it from my side of things. If
this situation had been reversed, if I had kept something from Charlotte about my past, I have no doubt
that she’d feel exactly how I feel right now.
I have a massive headache that will not go away. I have some dick with nasty ass jailhouse tats
on his face trying to push his way past Monica to get into the club. I try to calm him down, but shit,
that cat has anger management issues, but left when I threaten to call the cops. Now, I’m sitting behind
my desk, rubbing my temples when there is a knock on my door. I call out for them to come in without
stopping the rubbing; it seems to be helping the pain in my head. I don’t even bother looking up when
the door opens, figuring that it’s just Monica needing to tell me something.
“Ya know, I’m actually pretty pleased to see you looking like shit,” says Delilah as she shuts the
door behind her and takes off her mask.
My head shoots up and I stare at her for a moment, a million and one things running through my
head as to why she could be here. “What’s wrong? Is it Charlotte? Is it the baby?” I blurt out a bit
frantically.
Delilah smiles softly and shakes her head. “That’s exactly the reaction I was hoping to get from
you. Everything is fine, I just want to talk to you.”
I blow out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding. I nod jerkily and motion for her to sit
in the chair in front of my desk. She takes a seat, crossing her jean-clad legs. She looks super cute as
always.
“Why haven’t you called Charlie?” she asks, cutting right to the chase.
I sigh, rubbing my face roughly in my hands. “I’m still mad at her, Little Bit. I feel like I deserve
an apology, too.”
“I know, but someone has to take the first step, and you know it’s not going to be her,” she snorts.
I scoff. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“What are you so mad about…exactly?” she asks, tilting her head in curiosity.
I blink at her. “Seriously? She kept this huge secret from me! I thought we were open and honest
with each other about everything. I thought that I knew everything about her!”
“Does what happened to her change the way you feel about her?”
“No, of course not,” I reply.
“What if you hadn’t found out until after the baby was born and you two were married? Would
you have said what you said and walked away from her like you did?”
I open my mouth to answer but immediately snap it shut. I got nothing. Delilah is right. I hang my
head. I’m such an asshole. I walked away from the love of my life and my beautiful baby because she
didn’t share something about her past. Wow, I’m a complete douchebag.
“Calvin, you are never going to know everything about the person you’re with, I’m still learning
new things about Nick every day. That’s part of the fun of being in a relationship, being surprised to
learn something new when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else. And Charlie was
adamant after the parole hearing to move on with her life, to leave what happened to her in the past.
She certainly didn’t want to relive it or let it define her. She wanted that piece of information to have
nothing to do with your loving relationship, to corrupt the way you saw or treated her. Ironically, it
did just that,” Delilah says gently.
“She still could have told me,” I whisper.
“Yeah, she could have, but she chose not to because she didn’t want you to pity her or possibly
hold back with her in bed because you’d be afraid of her mental state.”
I nod, understanding what she is saying because yeah, I probably would have been that guy. I lift
my gaze to meet hers. “How is she doing?”
Delilah shrugs. “She puts up a good front, but I know her better than that, and I can see that she’s
heartbroken,” she says.
“I’m such a fucking asshole.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, finding myself saying that a
lot lately.
“You’re a guy, so no shock there.” She chuckles.
I sneer at her, making her laugh a little harder. She stands and I follow. I go to her and give her a
grateful hug. “Thanks, Little Bit.”
She pats my face and heads for the door.
“She’s gonna fight taking you back. I’m sure you know that, but she does love you and want you
in her life. So don’t give up, okay?” she says.
“I won’t,” I assure her. She gives me one last smile before leaving and shutting the door behind
her. I go back to my chair and sit down. Damn, I have a lot of groveling to do.
Still Calvin…
A few more days go by and I still haven’t found the courage to call Charlotte even though I’m
dying to know how she and the baby are doing. It’s now Sunday and I’ve been guilted into going to my
parents’ house for the usual Sunday dinner. I really want to skip it because I’m really not in the mood
to have my ass handed to me again.
Just yesterday, I had Nick and Parker show up at my place to ream me out. Not one of the finer
points in our over ten-year friendship. I think that had to be the first time that they actually ganged up
on me to tell me how much of an asshole I was…and am still being. Like I didn’t already know that.
Shit.
I literally have to force myself to walk into my parents’ house. With shoulders slumped, I trudge
into the kitchen where everyone is flitting around. My mother is cooking. My dad is picking at food as
it comes out of the oven or off the stove. My grandfather is sitting at the table with Carla. He is
reading the newspaper, while she is busy texting on her phone.
Everyone looks up when I walk in. The look my grandfather gives me is the worst. Complete
disgust and disappointment. He just grunts, shakes his head, clucks his tongue, and then looks back
down at the paper. My dad is still angry with me and hasn’t spoken to me since the wedding. I believe
his words were “My son would never speak to a woman like that.” My mother seems to have a bit
more sympathy for me, but she has definitely given me her fair share of jabs over the past couple of
weeks. My sister has steered clear of me, also; what her reasoning is, though, I have no idea. My mom
told me that Charlotte chewed her out, which makes me seriously happy.
“I brought pastries from the bakery,” I mumble, holding up the white box by the ribbon it’s
wrapped in.
My mom is the only one who acknowledges me. She gives me a small smile and motions toward
the fridge. “You know where to put them.”
I sigh and put the box in the fridge. The tension is so thick between my father and me that you
could cut it with a knife. He purposefully keeps his distance and refuses to look at me. Damn, that shit
hurts. My dad has never distanced himself from me like this, ever. And to know that I’ve seriously let
him down really fucks with my head. Can we ever get back to the way we were? Or has this damaged
our relationship permanently? God, I hope not.
Dinner is torture. My mom goes on and on about Charlotte and the baby, about the baby shower
that Delilah’s planning, about the theme of the nursery that Charlotte chose for the nursery she’s
putting together in the spare room of her apartment, and about different names that she is considering.
My heart breaks multiple times throughout dinner and I barely eat anything on my plate. A few times, I
actually get choked up and have to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to get myself under control.
Which is actually where I am now, staring at myself in the mirror. What the fuck am I doing? I should
be there with her for all of this! I should be helping her pick out baby names and nursery themes. We
should be living in the same fucking place! Goddammit! I gotta get out of here. I have to call her. I
have to fix this.
When I come back to the table, I grab my uneaten plate of food and bring it to the sink.
“Mom, I gotta go,” I rasp and start for the door.
“Oh, Calvin, wait! I want to show you one more thing before you leave!” she calls after me, gets
up from the table, and chases after me.
She catches me in the living room and grabs my hand before I can go any further.
“Can’t it wait?” I ask, trying not to sound exasperated.
“No, come on,” she smiles and tugs me up the stairs.
I follow, wondering what in the hell she has to show me up here. She stops in front of the spare
room door that is not usually closed. Now, there is a sign on it with a stork that says “Nursery.” Aw,
shit. I hang my head and pinch the bridge of my nose. She’s killing me.
“Honey, I know you love Charlie and your baby. I just want you to know that I do, too, and I want
what is best for all of you. You need to fix things with her because she needs you, more than you
know,” my mom says softly. “I went to the doctor with her and her mom the other day when she went
for her first ultrasound.”
I’m pretty sure my heart stops beating. I missed an ultrasound? I promised her that I’d be at every
single one. The pain in my chest is sharp. I press my hand against it. My mother chose that moment to
open the door to the nursery. My breath catches at the sight before me. It’s painted a bright yellow
with a classic Winnie the Pooh mural on the wall. I take a couple of stilted steps into the room. The
second thing I notice is that there are two cribs. That’s odd. Then I see two bouncy seats, two car
seats, two swings. Oh hell fucking no!
“Why…why is there two of everything?” I choke out.
My mom goes over to the dresser and picks up a picture frame. She walks back over to me and
hands it to me. I stare down at the black and white grainy ultrasound picture. I swallow hard as my
heart rate picks up and my breathing becomes shallow. It’s pretty damn clear why there is two of
everything. Charlotte and I are having twins. If a black man falls in a nursery, and there’s no one
around to witness it… TIMBER! Yeah, my pansy ass faints, and there are plenty of witnesses. Great,
just fucking great!
I have no idea how long I am out for, but someone decides it’s funny to wake me with smelling
salts. My eyes fly open as soon as the pungent smell hits my nose. I look up to see my dad smirking
over me, holding the little white capsule.
“Welcome back,” he muses.
I push up to my elbows and glance around to see my mother, grandfather, dad, and sister all
standing around me where I’m lying on the nursery floor. All four of them fight back laughter.
Assholes.
“How long was I out?”
“Oh, a good few minutes,” my dad says.
“Shit,” I grunt, as I push myself into a sitting position.
Then it hits me. The reason I passed out in the first place. Twins! I drop my face into my hands.
Oh god, twins! How are we going to handle twins? I have to talk to Charlotte! Now. I shove to my
feet and head for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” my dad calls after me.
“I gotta get my family back,” I reply and race out to my truck.
First thing I need to do is show Charlotte how serious I am about wanting to be back in her life.
I’m going to Babies-R-Us to get car seats for my truck. I need to turn my spare room into a nursery,
also. If Charlotte decides not to take me back, I am still going to want to see my kids. I send Charlotte
a text when I get to Babies-R-Us.
Me: Baby girl, can we talk?
It takes several minutes before she replies, and what she says nearly brings me to my knees.
Pinky: No. I don’t need u. I will raise these babies on my own
Calvin: Please, Charlotte, I need to apologize, I was wrong
Pinky: Don’t care
Calvin: I love u, Pinks. Please, just let me come over and talk to u
Pinky: No. Don’t text me anymore
“Goddammit!” I bite out, not realizing that there is a mother and her two year old standing right
next to me.
She gives me a look like “Hey! Watch the mouth!”
I give her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry.”
The little girl in her arms is looking up at me with big brown eyes, so innocent.
“That was a bad word, don’t say that, okay?” I say to her seriously.
She just nods and her mother gives me a gentle smile.
Charlotte
I’m sitting at my parents’ kitchen table when Calvin finally - after weeks of nothing – texts me,
wanting to talk. Well, guess what, buddy? Fuck you! I reply that I don’t want to see him and I don’t
want him to text me anymore. When I look up from my phone, I see my dad, who is sitting across from
me, watching me with a small frown on his face.
“Is that Calvin?” he asks. I nod and set my phone on the table. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to talk to him sooner or later,” my dad says softly.
“This is the first he’s contacted me in weeks, so now he can wait until I’m ready,” I say coldly.
“I know you’re upset with him…”
“He walked away from me because he thinks I lied to him. Not to mention the fact that he thought
I tried to trap him by getting pregnant! I’m not just upset, I’m hurt. How could he not find the
compassion to understand why I kept that from him? And how could he accuse me of being so
manipulative and conniving?”
“You should have told him,” my dad says.
I sigh. We are the only ones here. My mom is out food shopping and my brother, Tommy, is back
at college.
“Okay, fine, maybe I should have, but that’s beside the point. How are we supposed to get past
this? I mean, his whole family knows about my past. His father tried to put you in jail!”
“His father was only doing his job, and he wasn’t happy about what he was doing. I could see it
on his face. He didn’t want to have to defend that scumbag, DeShawn,” my dad replies. “Calvin King
Jr. is a good man, and he did what he could to not have me sent to prison. I’ve gotten past this, now
you need to as well.”
I sigh. “I guess.”
“Your Calvin is a good man, too. He is just feeling hurt and betrayed by someone he loves
dearly. It must’ve been a shock for him to find out that you kept such a huge part of yourself from him,
that you didn’t trust him enough to share every part of you with him,” he says, slipping his hand over
mine where it rests on the table. “You both have things to apologize for and now that he’s trying to
reach out to you means that he wants to make things work between you two.”
“Why did it take him so long to finally contact me, though?” I ask with a frown.
“He probably didn’t want to say anything else that he couldn’t take back. I’m sure he was angry
for a while and after that faded, he probably needed to build up the courage to reach out to you.”
I sit in silence, thinking about everything my dad has said. I rest a hand on my ever-growing
stomach, the one that’s holding not one, but two babies.
“Those babies are going to need their father, and you are going to need him, too, sweetie,” my
dad says, somehow knowing where my thoughts are going.
“Alright, I’ll call him tomorrow,” I say.
My dad smiles wide and squeezes my hand. “Good girl. I think that is the right choice.”
Chapter Thirteen
Charlotte
The next morning, I wake up, take a shower, and head to my closet for something to wear. I go
through almost every pair of pants I own and nothing fits. The only thing I can get into are a pair of
yoga pants, but now I have to find a shirt that will stretch over my ever-growing belly. I find a T-shirt
that fits then grab my phone. First, I call into work for a personal day because I seriously need to get
something to wear that actually fits right. Then I call Delilah, hoping that she can convince Nick to let
her leave work early so she can go shopping for maternity clothes with me.
“Hey, Charlie, what’s up?” Delilah answers.
“Hey, do you think you can get out of work and go shopping with me? I have no clothes,” I huff.
Delilah laughs. “What do you need me for?”
“Seriously? I need someone to be honest with me and tell me if I look like an ogre in a muumuu
when I try stuff on!”
Delilah barks out a laugh before answering. “Let me see what I can do, I’ll call you back in a
few.”
She hangs up on me and I growl at my phone before my stomach growls back at me, letting me
know that two certain someones are hungry. I think about calling Calvin, but I push that aside. I’ll call
him later when I get back from shopping. Maybe.
Delilah calls me back about ten minutes later saying that she’ll come pick me up in twenty
minutes. Sweet! I put on a little bit of makeup, brush my hair, and go about trying to find a pair of
shoes that fit my swollen feet. Good god, pregnancy sucks. I shove my feet into my sneakers, which
are tight, but will have to do until I can get a bigger pair.
Delilah knocks on my door a few minutes later. As soon as I open the door, her hands are on my
belly. She rubs it like a Buddha and bends over to kiss it on each side, saying, “One for you, and one
for you.” She’s too cute sometimes.
I smile at her and shake my head.
“You ready?” she asks when she straightens up.
“Yep,” I reply, grabbing my purse.
We move into the hallway and I lock the door behind us, then get into Delilah’s car and head for
the mall. We chat about stupid little things, keeping the conversation as far away from Calvin as
possible. I don’t want to talk about him right now and she knows it. I’m still deciding if I want to call
him or not. When we get to the mall, we head right for the maternity store. As we’re walking, I keep
getting this strange feeling, like I’m being watched or something. I glance behind us a couple of times
but don’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“What are you looking for?” Delilah asks as we enter the store.
“I don’t know, I feel like I’m being watched, it’s weird,” I mutter, going to a rack of cute shirts.
“Hmm, that is weird,” Delilah agrees. “Does Calvin know where you are? Maybe he’s hiding
behind one of the ferns, just making sure you’re okay,” she giggles.
I sneer at her. “Bitch.”
She laughs, pulling a pair of jeans off a rack and holding them up. They have that large elastic
waistband that goes over your belly. “These are cute.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”
Ugh! I hate this.
“So has Calvin called you at all?” she asks.
Here we go…
“Called? No. He did text me yesterday wanting to talk.” I sigh.
“And? What did you tell him?” Delilah asks expectantly.
“I told him to take a fucking hike,” I mumble.
“Charlie! Come on! Give the guy a chance. He fucked up, he knows it, and he wants to talk it out;
you should talk to him,” Delilah chides.
“I thought you were on my side?” I ask incredulously.
Delilah huffs. “Charlie, you know I’m on your side, but Calvin loves you. And besides this one –
okay, very large - hiccup, he has always treated you like gold, you should call him.”
I grunt, knowing I should, but I can’t make myself pull out my phone to do it.
“Do it now, have him come over later so you guys can talk,” Delilah urges.
She comes over to me and reaches into the outside pocket of my purse where I keep my phone.
She holds it out to me with an expectant look on her face. I sigh in defeat and snatch the phone out of
her hand.
“I’ll text him,” I mutter.
I quickly type in a small message to Calvin and hit send.
Charlotte: Can u come by my apt today at 3:00 so we can talk?
Calvin answers almost immediately.
Calvin: I’ll be there!
Charlotte: Okay, see u then
Calvin: Can’t wait ;)
I can feel my lips twitch at the stupid winking emoticon. I feel a slight weight lift off my
shoulders and I know in that moment that I did the right thing. My babies need their daddy and in
actuality, so do I. I stuff my phone back in my purse and glare at Delilah, who is grinning at me.
“Happy now?”
She nods. “Very.”
I roll my eyes and go back to looking at the tops on the rack. The hairs on the back of my neck
rise when I again get the feeling that someone is watching me. I spin around, but don’t see anyone. I
try to shake off the odd feeling but it’s difficult.
“You okay?” Delilah asks.
I nod. “Yeah, let’s grab some shit for me to try on,” I say.
Delilah agrees, grabbing a bunch of different pants, dresses, and skirts, while I grab some shirts.
We head over to the dressing room so that I can try everything on. We end up laughing a lot as we try
to find things that don’t make me look like a complete heifer. After finally deciding on five pairs of
pants, eight shirts, and two dresses, we head to the register to pay.
As we’re standing in line, I continue to look around. I spot the bras. Oh, I definitely need those;
I’m spilling out of my normal ones. I grab Delilah and pull her out of line. We go over to the
underwear sections and start looking around at all of the bras.
“Good god, these are ugly,” I mutter.
“What do you expect? They need to hold up your giant milk jugs; they aren’t meant to be sexy,”
Delilah snickers.
I sneer at her then grab a bra labeled as a nursing bra. I frown at it. What makes it a nursing bra?
I see a little hook at the top of the cup where the strap is. I unhook it and the whole cup falls open.
“Oh. My. God,” I gasp.
Delilah starts cracking up.
“Why does it do that?” I ask, appalled by the whole thing.
“It’s to make breastfeeding easier, dumbass,” Delilah snorts.
I groan. “So, I guess I will need these if I’m going to breastfeed?”
“You should probably grab a couple, yeah.”
“Fine.”
I pick out a white one and a tan one, making sure to grab ones that are two sizes bigger than what
I normally wear. My boobs are the biggest they’ve ever been and I can’t imagine how big they are
going to be once they completely fill with milk. We head back to the register and get back in line.
“I’m sure Calvin will like the easy access,” Delilah teases.
“Once these puppies turn into feeding machines, Calvin is getting nowhere near them. That’s
where I draw the line. They cannot be food for our babies and play things for him. That’s too fucking
weird,” I say, shuddering at the thought.
Delilah laughs and shakes her head.
“I can’t wait until you get pregnant,” I snarl at her, making her laugh even harder.
I am so exhausted from all of this trying on, I decide it’s time go back to my apartment, so I can
prepare myself for seeing Calvin.
When we finally get back to my apartment, Delilah helps me straighten up. She even vacuums for
me quickly. It was getting pretty bad; I haven’t had the energy to push the damn thing around. Having
twins really sucks the life out of you. Then she scolds me for not asking for her help before. At 2:45
pm, there is a knock on the door. Shit, he’s a little early and I wanted to take a quick shower before he
got here; guess that’s a no-go.
Delilah is finishing up with the dishes as I go to answer the door. Ignoring the bad feeling
lingering in the pit of my stomach, I open the door. Standing in my doorway is DeShawn - the man
who raped me, the man who changed me forever. His hands are tucked into his front pockets and his
head is down. My breath catches. Oh, this can’t be good. He slowly lifts his head and his eyes lock
onto mine. I know in that moment that he’s not here just to say “hey.”
A slow, malicious grin curls his mouth. “Hello, Charlotte.”
I fight the urge to gag. Calvin is the only one who calls me Charlotte and in no way do I want my
name to be spoken by this man. I try to slam the door shut, but he blocks it with his body and shoves it
back open, knocking me on my ass.
“What the fuck?” I hear Delilah bite out angrily, as she makes her way in from the kitchen.
DeShawn steps into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. Delilah rushes to my
side, helping me back to my feet.
“What do you want, DeShawn?” I ask, my voice surprisingly normal.
“Revenge,” he growls, his grin gone. Pure hatred is now staring out at me from his dead black
eyes as he pulls a gun out from behind his back and points it at me.
Calvin
I show up at Charlotte’s apartment at exactly three o’clock. I’m surprisingly nervous. I just hope
that we can work things out. I rub my sweaty palms on my thighs then knock on the door. I hear
movement from inside and some hushed whispering, which I find odd. Who’s she talking to? I thought
she was going to be alone so that we can talk about our future?
A minute later the door finally opens, but the chain is still attached, so it only opens about six
inches. Why the fuck did she keep the chain attached? Charlotte appears at the gap and I instantly
know that something is not right here. Her face is forcefully blank but the terror in her eyes is
obvious. The way she is looking at me is like she’s trying to communicate something without actually
speaking. What the hell is going on?
“Charlotte?” I ask cautiously.
“Cal, I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to talk to you anymore, go away,” she says harshly
even though her eyes are telling me something very different.
She called me Cal, she never calls me Cal. Something is definitely wrong here.
“Seriously? You made me come all of the way over here when you could have just called?” I say
in faux annoyance.
Whatever is going on, she needs me to play along. She just gives me a nonchalant shrug.
“Dammit, Charlotte. This is so fucked up,” I snap.
I then have an idea. I pull out my phone and open my text messages. I type, “Are you in trouble?”
and show it to her.
“Yep,” she answers, nodding. To anyone else it sounds like she’s replying to what I had said.
“So you can just leave and not come back, I don’t want to see you again.”
I quickly type, “I’ll get help and be back as soon as I can” then show it to her. I can see the relief
her in eyes. Then she mouths something to me, but I shake my head, not understanding.
“And really, you can go shoot yourself for all I care,” she snarls, playing the part.
My heart freezes in my chest. I’m not lost on what she is telling me. Whoever is in there has a
gun. Fuck. I nod, letting her know that I now understand what she is saying.
“Oh, thanks a fucking lot, Charlotte. Ya know what? Screw you, I’m outta here,” I grunt and
stomp toward the stairs.
I send her one more glance over my shoulder and I can see the tears welling in her eyes. She
doesn’t want me to leave, but what can I do? I have to go get help. I blow her a kiss, put my hand over
my heart and mouth to her that I love her. She gives me the subtlest of nods then slams the door shut. It
takes everything I have to stay on my feet. My knees want to buckle from the overwhelming fear that is
coursing through me right now. But I keep myself together and race down the stairs and out to my
truck. Do I stay and try to do this by myself, or do I leave and get help? What do I do? Who do I call?
Fuck!
Charlotte
After slamming the door shut, I turn and lean against it. Thank god Calvin is a smart man. He
knew instantly that something was wrong and played along. I glance at Delilah, whose hands and feet
are duct taped, along with a strip over her mouth. She’s sitting on the couch, tears streaming down her
face. DeShawn is standing next to her with the gun pointed at her head. He threatened to shoot her if I
didn’t get rid of Calvin.
“Did he buy it?” DeShawn asks.
I nod. “You heard him. He stormed off,” I answer, my voice shaky.
He nods his satisfaction and lowers the gun from Delilah’s head. I breathe a sigh of relief. She
closes her eyes, doing the same.
“Seriously, DeShawn, I don’t know what you want, but this is ridiculous. You can’t just hold us
hostage, people are going to wonder where we are. I mean, Delilah’s husband is for sure going to
wonder where she is when she doesn’t show up at home when she’s supposed to,” I say, hoping to
reason with the mad man standing in my living room.
“I’m not going to be holding you hostage long, Charlotte. I just need some time.”
“Time for what?” I ask incredulously. What the hell is he planning?
“Time to take from you what you took from me,” he snarls.
I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
“My child! You got rid of him! And now I’m going to get rid of yours!” he shouts.
My eyes widen, my hands automatically going to hold my stomach, my babies. Thank god he
doesn’t know there are two little miracles in there. “I…it’s not like I did it on purpose, DeShawn,” I
rasp.
His eyes narrow on me. “I don’t believe that for one second. You got rid of him because he was
mine.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, I didn’t. It was a tubal pregnancy; it never would have become
a baby.”
He swung the gun around and trained it on my stomach. “Lies!”
“Please! Please don’t do this!” I beg.
That evil smile returns as he lowers the gun. “Oh, I don’t plan on shooting you. I’m going to take
your baby away and see how you like it.”
I frown hard. “I don’t understand.”
“How stupid are you, bitch? I’m going to cut that kid out of your stomach and let it die,” he says,
his tone dead and flat.
Delilah cries out from behind the duct tape over her mouth. I can only shake my head and whisper
“no” repeatedly. Oh god, please let Calvin get help fast. Just then, Delilah’s cell phone starts ringing.
It’s on the coffee table in front of her. I can see Nick’s face pop up, so I know it’s him calling.
“It’s Delilah’s husband, you have to let her answer or he will know something is up,” I murmur
shakily, still reeling from what DeShawn just disclosed as his plan.
DeShawn goes over and rips the duct tape from Delilah’s mouth, making her scream. He then
takes her phone, hits answer, and puts it to her ear while also putting the gun to her head.
“Hey, Nico,” she answers. She uses Nick’s name from Club M, something she never does.
I wonder if Calvin called him and asked him where she is? If they figured out that she is still
here with me, then she’s smart to give him some kind of warning. I watch raptly as she listens for a
second before answering.
“Oh nothing, I’m just tied up with Charlotte at the moment, I should be home soon,” she says
calmly.
I fight off a smile. She’s a genius. Nick will know that she’s serious when she says she’s tied up,
even though it sounds like she was just using an expression.
“I’m sure he’s pissed, she told him to go shoot himself then he stomped off.” She snorts. “True…
yes…no…uh huh…okay, Boss, see you soon, I love you, too…bye.”
DeShawn pulls the phone away, hanging it up. “So?”
“We’re good, he has no idea,” Delilah says. She looks at me and there is no need for her to do or
say anything. Help is on the way. Those yes or no questions were probably Nick getting confirmation
that she is in trouble.
DeShawn replaces the duct tape on Delilah’s mouth before coming over to me. I shrink back
against the door, wishing I could be invisible. He grabs me and forces me into the kitchen.
Calvin
“Are you actually tied up?” Nick asks.
“True,” Delilah answers.
Nick and I exchange glances as he holds his phone between us; he has it on speaker so that I can
hear what she’s saying. As soon as I left Charlotte’s apartment, I drove like a bat out of hell to Nick’s
office, which is minutes from her place.
“Do we know this person?”
“Yes,” she replies.
“Has he hurt you?”
“No.”
“And he has a gun?”
“Uh huh.”
“Alright, Doll, we’ll get you guys out of this as soon as possible, I love you,” Nick says, his
voice strained.
“Okay, Boss, see you soon, I love you, too,” she murmurs softly.
“Bye,” Nick whispers.
“Bye,” she replies then the phone goes dead.
Nick rubs the back of his neck as he sets the phone down on his desk. “Jesus fucking Christ, what
do we do?”
I lace my fingers together on top of my head as I start to pace. “If we call the police, they are
going to take too long to get organized. We need to do something now.”
“The guy has a gun, Calvin. We are no match for that. What if we burst in there and he shoots one
of us, or worse, Delilah or Charlie?” Nick says, logical as always.
Just then, Parker bursts through the door, his blonde hair a mess. He looks frantic and terrified. I
explained to him what was going on over the phone and he insisted on rushing right over.
“What’s going on? What are we doing?” he asks quickly.
“The guy is holding them at gun point, Delilah is tied up, and that’s all we know,” Nick says.
“Motherfucker!” Parker bites out and shoves his hands into his hair. “We have to get over there!”
“And do what?” Nick snaps. “Look, we are all freaking out right now but we can’t go over there
and kick in the door with an armed man inside! We are risking too much!”
“Well, arguing about it is wasting time! Time that our girls don’t have!” I yell. “I don’t know
about you, but I’m going over there and saving my family!”
I start for the door. Parker immediately follows.
“I’m coming with you,” he says.
“Dammit!” Nick grinds out, banging his fist on his desk.
I hear him shove out of his chair and trot to catch up with us. “If Delilah gets shot, I’m blaming
you,” he mutters.
“That’s fine,” I reply.
Nobody is getting shot. We all pile into my truck and race back to Charlotte’s apartment. We
climb the steps to her floor and gather outside of her door. Quietly putting my ear to the door, I can
hear a muffled sobbing and it sounds like it’s coming from two different sources, so I’m assuming that
both women are crying.
We tried to devise a plan on the ride over. All we could come up with is kicking in the door and
bum rushing the guy. Only problem is that we don’t know where in the apartment he is. The
possibility of getting shot is high. I don’t really care, though; I will die to save Charlotte and my
babies from whoever is in her apartment.
I back up and get ready to kick in the door. I glance at Nick, who gives me a nod. Then I look to
Parker, who is ready also. I count on my fingers…one…two…three…
BOOM!
My boot hits the door perfectly, sending it crashing open. The first thing I see is Delilah, lying on
the floor, her hands duct taped behind her back and her ankles duct taped to the coffee table leg. Duct
tape also covers her mouth. It looks as though she is trying to fight her way toward the kitchen. I also
notice that the gun is sitting on the coffee table.
Nick pushes past me and grabs the gun. He swings around and points it toward the kitchen.
“Don’t fucking move!” he shouts.
I slowly turn my head and look to where he is pointing. I blink a few times, not sure if I’m seeing
things correctly. Charlotte is lying face-up, on the island counter, duct tape wrapping completely
around her chest and legs, strapping her to the counter. Her shirt is lifted, revealing her rounded belly.
Standing beside the counter with a carving knife in his hand is that same black man from my club –
face covered in tattoos - getting ready to slice open my girlfriend’s stomach. Motherfucker!
A red veil drops over my vision. I roar as I rush the man about to cut into my beautiful Charlotte.
I tackle him to the floor where the struggle ensues. I know he still has the knife in his hand, but my
main focus is to kill this man. I continuously bash my fist into his face. A sharp pain shoots through my
thigh, but I ignore it, nothing is going to stop me from tearing this guy apart. I pummel him
unconscious. Once I’m satisfied that he’s pretty much in a coma, I stumble to my feet. The world tilts
as I look around. I lean a hand on a nearby bar stool and take in the scene. Nick is cutting Delilah free
with a pair of scissors and Parker is taking care of Charlotte. I suddenly feel lightheaded and have to
lean heavy on the stool. Damn, what’s happening?
As soon as Nick gets Delilah free, he rushes to me. “Calvin, my man, you need to sit down.”
“Fuck that,” I say breathlessly.
Nick grabs me as I start to drop to my knees. He gently helps me down to the floor. He sits
behind me, with me between his knees, my back resting against his chest. He wraps his arms around
my chest and I drop my head back against his shoulder.
“I don’t feel so good,” I pant.
“Yeah, well, you have a big ass knife sticking out of your thigh.” He huffs. “I wouldn’t feel good
either if I were you.”
“I what?” I squawk and look down at my leg.
Sure enough, that fucking carving knife is hilt deep in the top of my thigh with the point sticking
out of the back. My jeans are soaked in blood and I can feel it running down my calf and into my boot.
A wave of nausea hits me and I drop my head back to Nick’s shoulder.
“Oh god,” I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut as the pain starts to kick in.
“Calvin!” Charlotte cries.
I hear her feet hit the floor as she hops off the counter. She drops to her knees next to me and
grabs my bloody hand. “Oh my god! Are you okay?”
I have to laugh. “Pinky, I got a knife in my thigh, so… no, I’m not okay.”
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” she cries.
“Charlotte, baby, are you okay? Did he hurt you? How are my babies?” I ask, cutting her off.
I feel like I’m going to pass out, but I need to know if she’s okay before I let that happen. I can
hear Parker in the background on the phone with the police. So no doubt, there will be an ambulance
here soon.
“No, no, I’m okay, we’re okay” she answers in a trembling voice.
“Good…good…” I breathe before the blackness envelops me.
Charlotte
Calvin’s eyes flutter closed and his body goes slack against Nick. He’s losing a lot of blood. I
rush to the closet in the hallway for a towel. I return and carefully wrap the towel tightly around the
knife to try to stem some of the blood.
Parker hangs up the phone and squats down next to me. “What can I do?”
“Hold this here and put pressure on it,” I murmur and have him take over holding the towel on
Calvin’s thigh.
Delilah is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, her whole body trembling. I start
toward her. I pass DeShawn and his bloody face as I go. I just get past him when his hand clamps
down on my ankle. I screech in surprise and yank my leg away.
“You bitch!” he rasps, rolling over and pushing up to his hands and knees. “You think you can
stop me? I will continue to come after you for as long as I’m breathing!”
Fury flashes fast and hot. No way will this man continue to ruin my life and the life of my unborn
children. I spot the gun on the coffee table. Nick must have put it back down when Calvin tackled
DeShawn. I snatch it up and with shaky hands, point it at DeShawn.
He slowly gets to his feet and starts toward me, a menacing look in his eyes. “You won’t do it.
You won’t shoot me.”
Nick and Parker yell for me to see if I need help. I tell Parker to keep pressure on Calvin’s leg,
and for Nick to stay with my best friend. I am going to take care of this once and for all.
“Yes, I will,” I say, my tone hard.
“No, you won’t, you don’t have the balls,” he taunts, still stalking toward me.
I don’t realize I’m backing up until my back hits the wall next to the broken door. He keeps
coming.
“Don’t come any closer!” I scream at him.
“That baby is mine and I will take it!” he barks.
DeShawn lunges for me. I hear multiple screams, but don’t have time to think about that as I pull
the trigger. DeShawn stumbles back but remains standing. He frowns and looks down at the neat little
hole in the center of his chest. Blood blooms from the hole, making a large dark circle on his gray T-
shirt. I watch in utter shock as he leadenly drops to his knees then falls face first onto the floor at my
feet, a pool of blood spreading quickly from beneath his body.
I rip my gaze away from him to look at my friends. They are all gaping at me. Parker is still with
an unconscious Calvin, and Nick and Delilah are now standing by the couch, looking like they are
both ready to pounce. I can hear the sirens in the distance and am thankful that the police will be here
soon. Delilah rushes over to me, gently extracting the gun from my hands, and places it on the floor.
Then she pulls me into her arms.
“You were so brave,” she whispers in my ear.
“I killed him,” I breathe.
“Yes, and you will never have to worry about him again.”
I nod and hug her tighter. She leads me over to the couch where we both sit, holding onto each
other for dear life.
A minute later, police fill the apartment. Paramedics take care of Calvin, and Nick switches into
lawyer mode as he explains to the police what happened. Paramedics come over to check out Delilah
and me, also. They decide that I need to go to the hospital, too, just to make sure that everything is
okay with the babies. I tell them that the only way I will go is if I can ride with Calvin. They
reluctantly agree and let me go in the same ambulance.
I sit on the bench next to the gurney that he is lying on and take his hand. The paramedic hooks
him up to an IV and stabilizes the knife with medical tape until we get to the hospital where they will
remove it. The paramedic also keeps an eye on my vital signs to make sure that I don’t go into shock
or anything.
Calvin’s hand tightens on mine, making me look up at his face. His eyes are cracked open and he
is looking at me. “Did the police get him?” he asks, his voice gravelly.
I shook my head. “No, baby, he came after me again and I shot him,” I whisper.
Calvin squeezes his eyes shut. “Shit.”
“I killed him.”
Calvin’s eyes fly open and his tormented eyes meet mine. His mouth works but he can’t seem to
find the words.
Finally, he asks, “Who was he?”
“DeShawn, the man who raped me,” I say with disgust.
Calvin’s eyes harden and his top lip curls up. “Good girl.”
More Charlotte...
I am stuck in the hospital bed with bands around my belly that are monitoring the babies’
heartbeats, and a cuff on my arm that is monitoring my blood pressure. Delilah stays with me the
entire time I get checked out. Nick and Parker go with Calvin, who has to have surgery to remove the
knife from his leg. The doctor is giving me a full work up, while the nurse continues to check my
vitals. The doctor diagnoses me as healthy, but refuses to discharge me. The babies are perfectly fine
and he tells me to try to relax because they are going to keep me for a couple of days to be safe, since
my body went through so much trauma. Personally, I think they want to make sure that I don’t have a
nervous breakdown after all that went down. They also want to send someone down from psych to
check on me as well. Something about shooting and killing a person can cause PTSD. Not when you
kill to protect your babies. That’s called maternal instinct. I don’t have PTSD.
I am so frustrated and decide that I am not staying here. I am fine and my babies are fine. That’s
all that I came here to find out. Plus, I haven’t even gotten the chance to see Calvin yet. And I have to
pee. All I can think about is how I am going to get myself unstrapped and untangled from this bed so
that I can go seek out Calvin - after I pee first – that I am not really paying much attention to Delilah’s
ramblings. Something about Calvin’s dad speaking to the prosecutor, along with Nick, regarding not
charging me with anything because DeShawn was in violation of the restraining order and me acting
in self-defense. Yeah, yeah, whatever.
A lifetime later, I convince Delilah to help me escape this prison cell – no pun intended - and
help me find my man. She calls Nick, and he tells her that Calvin is already out of surgery and in a
recovery room. Apparently, he has been asking for me and about me, but nobody will give him any
information since he is not “family.” The term belligerent is being tossed around by the nurses and
hospital staff. I can only imagine how pissed off he is. Nick finally gives LaLa the room number and
operation sneak past the nurses and not get caught commences.
The door is open when we reach the room, so we walk in. Calvin is lying on the bed, IV in his
hand, blood oxygen thingy on his finger, covers pulled up to his waist. He’s awake and talking with
Nick and Parker. Relief crashes down on me, threatening to bring me to my knees. Calvin turns his
head, his caramel eyes landing on me. A small, tired smile curls his beautiful lips.
“Baby girl,” he rasps, holding out a hand for me.
I rush over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He hugs me back,
tucking his face in the crook of my neck.
“I’m so sorry, for everything, I’m sorry,” I whisper, “I should have told you about DeShawn.”
“I’m sorry, too. I should never have said what I said to you, I was completely out of line. Your
past doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is you and our babies,” he says quietly into my neck.
“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Nick says.
After the door shuts and we are alone, I pull back from our embrace so I can kiss the shit out of
him. His big hands cup my face as we kiss. God, I missed him! The kiss turns frantic and needy. His
hands drop to my hips where his fingers tease my skin at the waistband of my pants. I slip a hand
down his chest and stomach, snaking under the blanket where I find his rock hard cock ready to go.
“Climb on,” he breathes.
“I don’t want to hurt your leg,” I protest. The thought of where we are doesn’t even cross my
mind. My only concern is not hurting him any more than he already is.
He shakes his head. “You won’t. It’s closer to my knee, on the outside part of my thigh, it’ll be
fine, I need you right now,” he says, his eyes pleading with me.
I need him, too. I glance at the door before I drop my pants and climb onto the bed. He pulls the
blanket back so I can climb onto his lap. He then covers my bare ass and legs with it. We grin at each
other before I lean in and kiss him again. He uses his hand to hold himself up so that I can lower
myself down onto him. I go ever so slowly, just to torture him a bit. Calvin groans, his hands gripping
my hips tightly.
Once I’m fully seated, I wrap my arms around his neck and start to rock my hips. My baby bump
is smashed up against his granite abs but I don’t care, I need to be as close to him as possible. His
lips brush mine as I move and he keeps his eyes locked on mine. This has to be the most emotionally
charged sex that we’ve ever had. And damn, is it good! I clutch the back of Calvin’s head as I
continue to roll my hips.
Calvin snakes his arms completely around me, one hand on my ass to help me grind against him.
Our breathing becomes more labored the closer we get to coming. Calvin growls low and bares his
teeth. The raw masculinity of it sends me over the edge. I gasp as my body spasms around him. My
nails dig into his scalp as I press our foreheads together. Calvin follows, his mouth slamming down
on mine as he moans. I can feel him pulsing inside of me. So hot!
Just then, the door opens and Nick walks in. We both whip our heads around to stare at him,
wide eyed.
“Hey, we’re gonna go grab something to…” he starts, but then snaps his mouth shut as he takes in
the scene. He glances down at my pants on the floor then rolls his lips in, takes a deep breath, and
nods. Looking up to the ceiling for guidance, he chides, “First your tit, now your ass? Jesus, Charlie,
what’s next? You two are…ah…yeah…I’m just gonna go…”
He continues to mutter under his breath, glares at us as he makes a show of locking the knob on
the door before he walks out, tugging it shut tightly behind him. Calvin and I look at each other and
burst out laughing. That’s twice now that Nick has caught us in the act.
Calvin sighs, gently tucking my hair behind my ears. “I thought I was going to lose you today,
Pinky,” he says softly, emotion filling his tone.
I nod. “You saved me. Saved us.” I rub my belly protectively, terrified of what we could have
lost.
He then places his hands over mine on my baby-filled belly. “I love you and our babies so much.
I don’t ever want to be without you again. You are my forever, Charlotte. Please say that you’ll marry
me.”
Tears automatically spring in my eyes as a half laugh, half sob burst out of me. I grab his face and
kiss him so hard before I answer. “Yes, Calvin, of course I’ll marry you.”
Epilogue
Parker
I drag my ass out of bed extra early this morning because Eddie Dugan – the top talent agent in
the country - told me to come in to see him today. Apparently, he has a “role of a lifetime for me.”
His words, not mine. After the past few months that I have been having, between attackers, weddings,
and babies, it’s time for me to refocus myself back on my career. And I need something good.
Something to get my name back out in lights. I miss the rush, the excitement, and the energy of the red
carpet. I even miss the paparazzi, but don’t tell anyone I said that, I would deny it if you did.
He didn't give me any hints about the plot or the characters, but he said that I am perfect for the
part. I try texting Charlie a few times about it, but she keeps changing the subject. She agrees that I
am perfect for the part, but won’t tell me anymore than that. I love that girl, but…Bitch! I step off the
elevator and into the outer office of the agency – Top Talent Agency. How apropos. The secretary, a
young, pretty, red head smiles wide and bats her eyelashes at me as she always does.
"Hello, Mr. Hamilton," she purrs. I can never remember her name.
"Hey, Charlie in?" I ask simply with a smile.
She nods and points in the direction of her office. I offer a “thanks” and quickly head for
Charlie's office, not giving Red a chance to ask me out.
I knock on her door before pushing it open. A beautiful, smiling, and very pregnant Charlie
greets me with a huge hug.
“Sadie Sadie married lady. How does it feel to be Mrs. Calvin King III?”
Charlie laughs and I can’t help joining in. did I really just quote a line from Funny Girl? I really
need to stay away from Broadway for a while.
“Can you believe he dragged me straight to the courthouse from his hospital bed?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. Calvin really was in a rush to claim Charlie as his wife. “He would
have had the Justice of the Peace come down to the hospital if you would have agreed.”
“Yeah, he’s a crazy one, that husband of mine, but I think I’ll keep him.”
“Good to know.” I snicker. “How are you feeling?” I pat my hand on my own tummy, clarifying
what I am asking about.
“Like I am about to burst.” She groans.
“Well, you look gorgeous,” I tell her sincerely.
“Please, next you are going to tell me that I am simply glowing,” she guffaws.
“What the hell does that mean anyway?”
“Fuck if I know. I am so ready for them to get here so we can have a proper reception with all of
our family and friends,” she answers then changes the subject. “Have you seen Eddie yet?”
“Nope. Are you going to tell me anything about this script?”
Charlie laughs mischievously and I’m a little worried. What am I getting myself into?
“Nope, but I think Eddie is ready for you if you want to go find out for yourself.”
“Bitch,” I call her affectionately.
“Pain in my ass…and I have three!” she hollers at my back, as I leave her office.
I round the corner to Eddie’s office and stick my head in to find him on the phone, as usual. He
looks up and waves me in, shoving the phone between his face and shoulder, while he types on his
computer. I go in and shut the door behind me, dropping down into one of the chairs in front of his
desk.
Eddie hangs up the phone a minute later and smiles across the desk, the wrinkles at the corners of
his eyes deepening. "Hamilton, my favorite client. How’s it hangin’?" he asks.
I narrow my eyes across the desk at the older man. For being sixty-five, he looks great. His hair
is all white, but he has a full head of it, which he parts on the side and brushes over. He has a few
wrinkles, mostly around his eyes and mouth, and wears squared tortoise shell glasses that make him
look suave. He’s wearing his usual polo shirt and khakis.
"Whatcha got for me, Eddie?" I ask, eyebrow raised.
"Straight to business as usual, huh?" he murmurs with a soft smile before tossing a script on the
desk in front of me.
I just smirk, reach for the script, and read the first few pages, glancing up at Eddie, unimpressed.
I really don’t know what all of the hub-bub has been about. "Okay, so it's a couple of FBI agents
going after a serial arsonist, what's the catch?"
"Take the script home, read it, and let me know what you think when you're finished," he tells me.
"Who am I supposed to be cast as?" I ask, looking back down at the script for the two names of
the lead characters.
"If you take the role, you will be playing Jackson Hart," Eddie replies, his face impassive.
I eye him warily. Something is up and I want to know right now. "Just tell me," I sigh in irritation.
"Read it and get back to me," he reiterates with a mischievous smirk.
I grind my teeth in frustration. "Fine, was anyone cast as Wade Burns?"
Eddie's grin got wider. "Declan Montgomery has taken the part."
I lean back in the seat and groan. I don't exactly get along with Declan. We've done a few
movies together, and the movies were major hits, but behind the scenes we were anything but the best
of friends that we played on screen. Declan just gets on my nerves; he is so arrogant, kind of a
douche, really.
"Why do we keep getting cast together?" I mumble, rubbing my forehead.
"You two are great together; you have fantastic chemistry even though you don't actually get
along." Eddie shrugs.
I sigh in resignation as I shove to my feet. "I'll call you later," I mutter, heading for the door with
the script in hand.
Eddie chuckles as I walk to the door. I then glare at him over my shoulder, causing him to laugh
even harder. Something is up with the script that Eddie thinks is hilarious. Maybe it’s just a funny
movie. I kind of doubt that since it’s supposed to be about FBI agents going after a serial arsonist. I
look at the title printed on the first page of the script. Burning Hearts.
Still Parker…
I was able to get home without any incidents from fans or paparazzi. I kick off my shoes at the
door then walk into the kitchen of my penthouse suite. In the kitchen, my housekeeper, Maribel, is
doing a thorough cleaning of the counters. I give her a smile and a nod then grab a bottle of water out
of the fridge. I walk over to the table and sit down, cracking open the bottle and taking a sip. I flip
open the script to where I left off and continue reading.
About fifty pages in, and I am getting even more suspicious. As I take another sip of water and
turn the page, my eyes skim the first line of the page. Immediately, I spew the water that is still in my
mouth across the table and start choking. What the fuck? My character, Jackson, just kissed Declan’s
character, Wade!
"You alright, señor?" Maribel asks, as she rushes over with a towel to clean the water off the
table.
"Fine." I wheeze, as I continue to cough.
Once I get myself under control, I grab the script and flip through it a little faster. This has to be a
mistake. Eddie would never give me a gay role...would he? Not that I am homophobic or anything, but
I’ve never even thought about taking on a role like that. The more I continue to read, the more kissing
and sex occurs. I cringe as I read one of the sex scenes and swallow hard. I don't think that I can do it.
Can I?
I’m not sure why everybody was telling me that I am perfect for this role. But they were right
about one thing. This would be a game changer. Either it’s a genius move or career suicide.
THE END
About the Authors
Stay tuned for book #3 in a Taboo Love series
Parker’s story
by M.D. Saperstein & Andria Large
For more information on future books, come find us!
Our joint page:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorsSapersteinLarge?ref=hl
M.D. Saperstein
https://www.facebook.com/MdSapersteinAuthor
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7134215.M_D_Saperstein
Andria Large
https://www.facebook.com/AndriaLargeAuthor
http://kafelarge.wix.com/author-andria-large
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7032815.Andria_Large
Andria is currently working on a new series named Renegade. Look for it soon! Meanwhile, go
check out her already successful series, The Beck Brothers.
http://www.amazon.com/Andria-Large/e/B00CD9UZM4/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Document Outline
- Copyright
- Acknowledgments
- Blurb
- Table of Contents
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Epilogue
- About the Authors
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