T he bikers were back for their monthly pool tournament. The place was packed and I couldn’t get a rhythm going. Everyone wanted a drink at the same time. Customers kept yelling my name; an obnoxious biker chick actually put her fingers in her mouth and emitted a high pitch whistle in order to get my attention. And a college kid frowned at me and agitatedly waved his money in the air.
In addition to all that madness, Bee-Stmg, the hot black chick with the yellow bee tattoo on her left breast, was back. While her biker boyfriend shot pool, she sat at the bar drinking a Spunky Monkey, her favorite cocktail.
Bee-Sting was real easy on the eyes with her cute face, trendy hairdo, and extraordinary boobs that she liked to put on display. She was keeping me busy, though. Every twenty minutes, I was back at the dreaded blender, whirring up another Spunky Monkey.
Every time I finished waiting on a customer, I seemed to find my way back to Bee-Sting. She was a little nutty, but her conversation was thoroughly entertaining. And
she had that bad girl kind of sex appeal that a reformed bad boy like myself was drawn to. She reminded me of the girls I’d grown up with in the ’hood. She laughed loud, talked slick, and walked like she knew how to ride a big dick. I wouldn’t have expected a girl like her to be hooked up with a white boy. Especially a biker. They were from two different worlds, but I suppose opposites attract.
The more Bee-Sting drank, the more openly she flirted. But I wasn’t hitting on her; I was merely enjoying the company of a pretty girl. Knowing she had a man who was only a stone’s throw away kept me from misbehaving. I made sure not to say anything that could be misconstrued or misinterpreted.
After the relationship drama that had occurred between Rayna and me, it was refreshing to enjoy the company of a confident woman, who was stroking my ego with flattery and flirtatiousness.
“What high school did you go to, Jag?” she asked, licking froth from around the rim of her glass.
“I went to Bartram.”
“Hmm. I would have expected you to say Central High or one of the other top schools in the city.”
“Nah, back then my grades were below average.”
“Below?”
“Yeah, I barely graduated.”
“But I heard you were a lawyer. Humph! Remind me not to use your services the next time I get in trouble.”
I laughed heartily. “I haven’t taken the bar exam yet, and I won’t be practicing criminal law.”
“Oh, no? What kind of lawyer are you gonna be?”
“Corporate.”
She dropped her head and made snoring sounds. I laughed again. When she Hfted her head, she said, “Corporate law sounds boring as hell. Good luck with that.”
I made Bee-Sting another drink and when I set it in front of her, she allowed her fingers to graze the top of my hand. Her eyes were filled with mischief and sensuality as she teased me by trailing a long, pointed nail along my hand and up to my wrist.
“Behave,” I cautioned. “Your boyfriend might get jealous.”
“No, he won’t.”
I raised a brow.
“He likes for me to enjoy myself. As long as I’m happy, he’s happy.”
I cut an eye at her biker boyfi'iend and the moment we made eye contact, his eyes darted away.
“WTiat are you saying? You two are in an open relationship?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I’m open. He’s not. He only has eyes for me, but I get to experiment with other partners. He lets me do my thing.”
“Interesting. Are you in love with him?”
“With all my heart.”
“So why do you need to fuck around?” I was really curious and wanted to know what she had to say from a woman’s perspective.
“Put it like this.. .1 would never fuck around with another white dude, but I get lonely for the company of a black man. Listen, I’m keeping it real, can’t nobody fuck me as good as a brother can.”
“So why are you in a relationship with a white man?” My tone was somewhat hostile and it occurred to me that I didn’t Hke the idea of a black woman crossing over to the other side.
“Spike—my husband—he treats me Hke the queen bee that I am.”
“You two are married?” I looked at her ring finger pointedly and noticed the tattoo of a black snake coiled around her finger.
“We don’t wear traditional wedding rings. Been married for three wonderful years, and I’d be crazy to leave him for a dude that has three baby mommas and a couple of chicks on the side. When I get to yearning for black dick, I go out and get me some.” She touched my hand again and smiled provocatively.
I gazed at her hand as it stroked mine. “Is that what you’re doing now.. .trying to get some of this black dick?”
“I sure am. But don’t get it twisted, I love my husband. Spike isn’t threatened by black men; he knows that all I want from a brother is a good, hard fuck, but my heart belongs to him.”
“Wow,” I said and involuntarily moistened my lips. Bee-Sting was in luck because I was in the mood to give her exactly what she wanted. Hell, I’d failed at celibacy
and I’d failed at trying to have a no-strings-attached relationship with Rayna. A girl like Bee-Sting was the perfect chick for me at this phase of my life. She was in love with her husband and only wanted to use me for sex, which was fine with me. I wouldn’t have to worry about her being clingy or trying to take things to the next level.
“So you just want a sex partner—nothing else?” I clarified.
“I’m very happily married...what else would I want besides a hard fuck?”
“Okay. I guess I can help you out with that,” I said and winced as my dick began to stiffen inside my pants.
“So...” She leaned forward and looked at my crotch. “Can I get a preview?” she asked.
I scowled in bewilderment.
“I wanna get a look at that thick, Nubian chocolate that you’re gonna stuff in my mouth and down my throat...”
Bee-Sting paused, watching me and waiting for a reaction. But she was talking so damn dirty, and looked so hot while she verbally seduced me, I was rendered speechless. My dick had uncoiled and was sticking out, forming a tent in the front of my pants. It was painful as fuck, and I wanted to stick my hand inside my fly and readjust my shit to a more comfortable position. If the bar hadn’t been so crowded, I would have escorted her to the sex-corner behind the restrooms and given her a look and a quick sample of the goods. But I had to control myself. Taking risks could cost me my job. And my
pockets were too light to be playing around with my livelihood.
“I’d love to show you what I’m working with, but unfortunately you’re going to have to take my word for it.. .you won’t be disappointed. I don’t get out of here until around three. Will that be a problem?” I asked in a lustful voice.
“No, it’s cool. I’ll give you our address and you can swing by when you get off.”
I had assumed we’d go back to my place, and I was taken aback. “You want me to come to you and your husband’s crib?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry about Spike; he knows that I have the hots for you. He’s down with whatever makes me happy...as long as he can watch.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink and continued caressing my hand.
“Hold up. Your man wants to watch me banging you?” Appalled, I glanced in the direction of the pool area, and Spike was watching Bee-Sting and me closely. His stare was creepy as hell and my hard-on instantly deflated. Having a complete change of heart, I slid my hand away from Bee-Sting. “No offense, but I’ve changed my mind,” I said as I edged away and began serving customers at the other end of the bar.
An hour or so later, I noticed Bee-Sting cozying up to my buddy, Buddha. Working her charm, she had Buddha laughing and blushing as she talked shit and sneakily caressed his inner thigh. All the while, her husband was
watching from the sideline. Even licking his lips as if he couldn’t wait for Bee-Sting to get Buddha into their marital bed.
Once again, I’d almost allowed my dick to get me into trouble. I would have had to whoop Spike’s biker-ass if he tried some funny business while I was busy smashing his wife.
I glanced at Buddha. Bee-Sting had him in the palm of her hand. He was grinning from ear to ear, probably planning on putting to use some of his legendary tongue tricks and oral skills.
I wanted to holla at Buddha—pull my man’s coat. But sometimes a horny, knucklehead has to learn the hard way that all that glitters is not gold.
The night finally ended and I was dog-tired. As crowded as the bar was, I only made half the tips I usually earned on a Monday night. After buying the truck, my savings were depleted and my cash on hand was perilously low. Making matters worse, Rayna had been unforgiving about being thrown out of my ride. In super bitch-mode, she’d been lurking around the hotel, giving me the evil eye and muttering under her breath whenever we crossed paths.
And I suspected that Rayna had been rifling through my personal things. It made me uneasy that a woman that felt scorned by me had complete access to my room
and personal possessions. Of course, I should have thought about that before I slept with her five times in a row. I know, I know...I’m a dumb ass for allowing my little head to do the thinking instead of using my brain.
I seriously had to get out of that hotel and find an apartment. As distasteful as the thought was, I was so strapped for cash, I was considering working another freak party. Convincing myself that I could handle it, I decided that all I had to do at the next event was mind my business and not get emotionally involved when I saw someone getting their ass walloped with a paddle. Like the butler had said, they were all consenting adults. Grown people living out their freakish fantasies.
Deciding that I could handle a few more parties until I got my money up, I made a mental note to give Sharif a call in the morning—find out if he could hook me up with some more work.