S&M III, Vol. II Read online

  She stood at a distance and watched Scott partake in a game of dominoes with her uncles and cousins. He was getting along with everyone, occasionally sipping on Cognac and smoking a cigar. The men talked about old-school soul music, politics, dress clothes, and everything else under the sun. Scott fit right in. He was a vanilla dot in a sea of chocolate.

  “So that’s the infamous Scott, huh?” Linda stood next to Mariana as the ladies watched the men play. “He seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is,” Mariana nodded.

  “He’s a bit old for you, Mari,” Linda mentioned.

  “It’s only ten years, Mama,” Mariana justified. She barely noticed the age difference, and it clearly didn’t bother Scott.

  Linda wasn’t convinced. Scott had age, wisdom, and maturity against her daughter’s youthfulness. “This might be cute at first, but I’m afraid you both are going to get annoyed with each other. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “You act like we’re about to get married and start popping out babies, Mama.” Mariana was hoping what she said was going to have some truth to it. She had never heard the thundering noise of her clock ticking, but since a physical a few days ago, she had a sudden urge to get pregnant within the next year. She wondered if getting on the Pill was a smart idea, after all. She had yet to reveal her true feelings to her boyfriend.

  “Well, it’s not true? When’s the last time you brought home one of your boyfriends during the holiday? That has never happened, Mari. I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other at dinner. He really loves you, Mari.” Linda commented.

  Mariana caught eyes with Scott, who winked at her. “I love him, too.”

  “Lollipop, look at me.” It was Mariana’s nickname from her fascination with lollipops when she was younger. She was known to stick two or three of them in her mouth. Little did Mariana know at the time her oral fixation would come in handy later when she began to date. “I want you to listen to me carefully. Marriage isn’t a game and it sure isn’t for everyone. It’s easier to stop an engagement than to start a divorce. Please remember that.”

  Here we go. “Mama, we’re not even engaged yet!”

  “You will be,” Linda nodded. “You will be within the year.”

  Mariana wasn’t holding her breath. Scott just asked her to move in with him. Although she was adamant about not being a permanent girlfriend, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way. After all, she was moving into his home. It was a thought that was tattooed on her brain. “Maybe.”

  “You don’t sound confident about your relationship.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Mariana wished her mother would drop it finally, “it’s just too soon to discuss my future with Scott. We’ve only been together six months.”

  “How serious is this relationship?” Linda asked.

  Mariana bit her lip. Her conservative parents were not going to agree with her next move. “We’re moving in together.”

  Linda silently nodded. “And when is this wedding?”

  Mariana became silent. It was probable that she and Scott would be engaged soon, but she didn’t want to start picking out china patterns quite yet. “We’re on that again?”

  “Lollipop, I want the best for you and you know this. But I don’t want you to get lost and wrapped up with a guy because you’re enchanted with the lifestyle or the pretty expensive toys he buys. Don’t lose yourself in this relationship, please?”

  “What are you talking about?” Mariana scoffed. She realized why she never talked about her past relationships with her parents. “You make it sound like I’m about to lose my identity.”

  “You won’t lose your identity,” Linda nodded, “but I’m pretty sure you’ll eventually figure out if Scott is what you really want.”

  “He is what I want.” Mariana was sure of it.

  Linda wasn’t too convinced. “We’ll see.” She looked down at Mariana’s legs and saw there was a bruise forming. “Mari, what’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  “Your leg,” Linda bent down and took a closer look at Mariana’s thigh. It was a bright pink mark about three inches long. “Where did you get that from?”

  Mariana remembered the night before when Scott took her on the sofa. They were watching a movie and began fooling around on the couch, sneaking in kisses during boring scenes. One thing led to another and Mariana climbed on top of Scott and bounced softly on his cock, increasingly her tempo to a riding motion. She kept scraping her thigh against the sofa cushion. It was rug burn. “Um, I must’ve scraped myself! You know how clumsy I am!”

  ****

  Scott took a breather from the dominoes game and went to the front porch. It had been years since he’d been around extended family, and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. Mariana’s family treated him as if he were one of their own, and he never felt out of place. Linda showed him love, and Jerome kept bugging him for tips on how to score with women, proving he also accepted Scott.

  He sat down in one of the rocking chairs and gently rocked it. He still had a bit of whiskey in his cup and gently nursed it as he stared out into space. Things were going well in his life. Things were going too well in his life.

  He was waiting for the drama to commence.

  Scott had never believed in coincidences. When things happened, he always chalked it up to a higher authority or something in the universe that caused it to take place. Events, collisions, episodes never just happened. Everything led up to something, whether we believed it or not.

  Mariana was going to move in with him that weekend. He was going to take her to meet his family in a few weeks. With her strong performance at McCormick and Sheppard, she was more than likely going to be hired. Probably within the next year, they would be married.

  A few years after that, they’d start having kids. And then Mariana could make the choice of staying at home or being a working mother. Scott already knew her decision before he asked it: she was going to be a working mother. She had too much ambition to stay home.

  Still, there was something amiss, and Scott couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew there was going to be drama when he brought Mariana home to his family and he was prepared for it. But that wasn’t bugging him. He felt something looming, and it made him uneasy. He just wished he could figure out exactly what it was.

  “I was looking for you,” Oliver stepped out onto the porch. He had a pipe in his mouth and carefully lit it with a match. He took a couple puffs on it and sat down beside Scott in another chair. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”

  “Sure thing, Oliver…”

  “Mr. Harlow, son,” Oliver corrected, “You don’t know me that well, boy.”

  Scott carefully took a sip of his whiskey. He should’ve predicted Oliver’s reaction. The older Black gentleman had been silently eyeballing Scott from the moment the Southerner stepped foot into his house. Scott didn’t put on his best behavior because it didn’t matter; Oliver was going to have a problem with him, regardless.

  There are many horror stories in history about the showdown between a woman’s boyfriend and her father. From polite threats to gunshots in the air to belt beatings, the stories always seemed to get more dramatic with time. Scott wondered what story he was going to tell his future son about the first meeting with his grandfather.

  “All right, Scott. Let’s cut the bullshit.” Oliver began. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

  Scott didn’t even bother looking over at Oliver. He kept his focus on the street ahead of him. “I’m going to marry her.”

  “Mm-hmm…” Oliver nodded as he rocked in his chair. He said it in a way it wasn’t clear if he approved or not. “And what do you expect her to do when she does marry you?”

  “She can do whatever she wants. She’s her own woman.” Scott felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation.

  “I see you got a fancy car and my daughter’s carrying a fancy purse.” Oliver nodded. “She’s not for s
ale.”

  It was definitely an interrogation. “I never said she was.” Scott replied.

  “You sure acted like she is.” Oliver chewed on his pipe.

  Scott felt his anger began to quiver. He took another sip of whiskey to quiet it. Oliver was interrogating him like he had done many times in the past with criminals. It was time to play hard ball. “Anyone can be bought.”

  Oliver slowly turned his head towards Scott. “Is that so?”

  “You act like you never used some sort of bribing technique against a criminal or a potential witness. You never promised a lighter sentence or protection in exchange for information?” Scott didn’t look at Oliver.

  “Go on.”

  “Money may not have exchanged hands, but you did use the good old fashioned barter system. If you do this for me, I’ll do this for you. Simple mathematics.” Scott said. “The same applies to relationships. She treats me right; she can have whatever she wants and vice-versa.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Oliver looked back over to the street and began rocking his chair again. “Mariana’s young. She’ll be twenty-five soon. She’s too young for you.”

  Scott expected that. Ten years was either a big age difference or irrelevant depending on the participants. “That’s none of your concern.”

  “When it comes to my daughter, she is my only concern. I’m her father.”

  And I’m her Master. “Respectfully so, but I’m her partner and she’ll make the final decision on what she wants.”

  “With influence from you,” Oliver shot back.

  “On her merits,” Scott grew weary of Oliver.

  Oliver kept rocking in his chair. He wasn’t sure about Scott. An older and wealthy White man was promising to take care of his only daughter. Race wasn’t the issue. Scott had power and Oliver thought that was very dangerous. “How did you meet Mariana?”

  Scott prepared himself for the backlash that was to come. “She used to clean my home.”

  “Sleeping with the help, huh?” Oliver nodded. “Do you do this with all of your hired help?”

  “No, just the ones that proposition me first.” Scott shot back.

  Oliver sharply turned his head towards Scott. “Now, you listen to me…”

  “No, you listen to me,” Scott had enough of Oliver’s passive-aggressive behavior. “I’m going to marry your daughter. You don’t have to approve it. In fact, I don’t care if you do. You act like Mariana walks around twiddling her thumbs waiting for your approval when she is very much her own woman.”

  “You control her,” Oliver didn’t back down. “It’s clear who has the power in your relationship.”

  “Yes, and Mariana has it,” Scott replied. “If Mariana doesn’t want to do something, it doesn’t happen—period.” Scott wasn’t just referring to their play scenes. “Dare I say I know your daughter better than you do? If you approve of us, it’ll only make it easier for when the grandchildren come.”

  Scott struck a nerve in Oliver. He had been waiting for Mariana or Jerome to produce some grandbabies for him to play with. “I just want my baby girl happy.”

  “We both want the same thing, Mr. Harlow.”

  “It’s Oliver,” Mariana’s father relented, “you can call me, Oliver.”

  ****

  “Can I see you for a moment?” Scott whispered to Mariana.

  Mariana was in the middle of sharing gossip with her cousins when Scott approached her. She immediately didn’t like his tone. It wasn’t the same tone when they played; he was disturbed about something. “Um, sure. I’ll be right back, ladies.” She excused herself from the table and followed him into the nearest bathroom.

  Scott closed the door behind them and locked it. He put the toilet seat down to sit on it and motioned Mariana to sit on his lap. “I had a nice talk with your father just now.”

  “And you’re still here?” Mariana nervously chuckled. “That’s impressive.”

  “It was tense at some moments, yes, but once he realized I wasn’t your sugar daddy and you’re not my marionette, we saw eye-to-eye on a lot of things.” Scott wrapped his arms around Mariana. “We both want the same thing: for you to be happy.”

  Mariana’s heart melted. “You make me happy, Scott.”

  “And you make me very happy, Mari,” Scott wrapped his arms around her back. His erection was pressing into her shorts.

  “Um, apparently,” Mari adjusted her position. “You need to put that away for later.”

  “The door is locked,” There was a gleam in Scott’s eyes. He wanted her.

  “This is my parents’ house, Scott,” she slapped his wandering hands away from her breasts, “and all of my relatives are here.”

  “You didn’t give me anything for my birthday,” Scott playfully whined.

  “Yes, I did!” Mariana kept slapping Scott’s hands away. His birthday was just a few days prior. “It’s not my fault you didn’t like it.”

  Mariana had attempted to make Scott a romantic birthday dinner, except she didn’t know how to cook. It was the first time she attempted to make grilled cheese sandwiches, and they ended up looking like black bricks. Scott was a champ and ate the black bread, anyway. “I love my sandwiches like I love my women,” He smiled as he ate the food. “Black.” The pair ended up ordering a pizza and having beer and wine.

  Scott smiled as the memory faded. Despite the disastrous dinner, it was one of his best birthdays in recent times. He was with his love, and that was all that mattered. “They were charcoal bricks, baby.”

  “You still ate them!”

  Scott could still remember the taste of them. It wasn’t a pleasant memory. “Barely.” His hands found Mariana’s breasts again and she relented. She leaned forward so he can unhook her bra. “They won’t hear us if we’re quiet enough.”

  Scott’s nose nuzzled against Mariana’s neck. She sweetly smelled of strawberries, peaches, and wine. It was her spot and they both knew it. His mouth lightly sucked on her neck and Mariana bit her lip to prevent any moans.

  Her back arched and her toes curled upon contact. She instinctively ground against his lap, wanting him, needing him to be inside her. “You have to be quick, honey,” Mariana softly moaned as Scott continued to kiss her neck, “and no play.”

  If it had been up to Scott, they would’ve been fucking already. “Take off your shorts. Leave your shirt on.”

  Mariana hurriedly pulled down her shorts and stepped out of them, while Scott pulled his down to his ankles. She climbed on top of Scott and he surprised her by suddenly thrusting inside her. She let out a small yelp before his lips crushed hers. “Shhh…” He whispered. “Ride my cock, baby.”

  Mariana eased herself up and down on his cock, her walls stretching to accommodate him. Their tongues intertwined as she wrapped her arms around his neck for support. She clenched tightly around his cock and leaned against his chest and rode him faster. “Fuck, Scott,” Mari whispered, “I’m about to cum. I’m about to—I’m about to cum.”

  “Cum all over my cock, baby,” he dared her.

  “I’m cumming…I’m…” Mariana breathed before her body shuddered. Scott quickly covered her mouth with his as she moaned into it. She carefully climbed off Scott and kneeled down before him. She licked the side of his cock, tasting both him and herself. She swallowed his cock with one movement and sucked fast, her hungry mouth devouring him. A few moments later, Scott erupted in her mouth and she swallowed.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, honey.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

  TWO

  It wasn’t easy being manipulative. It took a lot of time to perfect.

  Caprina had become an expert on manipulating men. It started with various photographers who wanted to sleep with her in exchange for a photo shoot. She would sleep with them and when they didn’t follow through on their promises, Caprina quickly placed a call to their wives letting them know exactly what kind of dog they were married to.

  She often used the weaknesses of other models
to her full advantage. If a shoot called for a model with a boyish figure, Caprina would recommend one of her curvier counterparts to show up, stating it was just a typo on the casting call. If a shoot called for a dark-skinned model, Caprina would loudly talk about the upcoming shoot for all fair-skinned models to appear.

  She was the bitch everyone loved to hate but everyone wanted to be like.

  She was thirty-nine and not a moment younger. Her curtain call was going to come soon, and Caprina had to milk her fame for what it was worth. The competition show was her saving grace but she needed more.

  She needed Scott.

  She had carefully followed his life and career since their disastrous breakup years before. She knew his daily routine: gym at five in the morning and then again at eight that night. She knew he shopped at the health food stores and often brought in supplements to maintain his physique. She saw him trade in that godforsaken Lexus for a Mercedes convertible.

  The real change, however, was his home. She watched as his home went through a complete metamorphosis; no fewer than thirty carpenters, designers, and various others were in his home in one day. Caprina never saw Scott but knew he was there: various people kept talking to the dark-tinted window of a purple Bentley when it arrived every two hours. Caprina smiled as she realized Scott’s Mercedes was his “play” vehicle and his Bentley was his “business” one. She knew Scott had money, but she didn’t realize he had that much and was able to command that much power.

  So when she found out that Scott’s precious girlfriend had a model roommate, well, it was a gift from God Himself. Caprina couldn’t have asked for a better gift. She had to time her arrival at the photo shoot just right. She knew Sarah would be there. She faded in the background and just waited.

  And waited. And waited.

  She was about to go out for a cigarette break when Sarah showed up at the shoot, teary-eyed and upset. Awe, poor baby.

  “Sarah! Girl, if you don’t dry up your tears I’m going to have to start all over!” One of the makeup artists, LaDale, commented as he reapplied foundation to Sarah’s face. She was modeling a new fashion line and was at a downtown studio getting ready.