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Page 7


  You would think I’m talking about the typical middle-age black female who spends her days gossiping online with other don’t-have-a-man-but-have-cobwebs-in-their-punani- hens just like her, but no. My auntie is not even 40.

  I have a lot to do today and my auntie isn’t gon’ fuck up my mood. I park the Beemer and get out, boasting the brightest smile that Colgate would be proud of as the gentlemen approach me.

  “Hello.” A man with a deep voice smiles at me. He’s portly and has slick back hair that’s full of grease. He smells like he’s about to sell me some bullshit. “You must be Keisha.” He holds out his hand for me to shake and I just glance down at it and back at him.

  “Let’s cut to the chase – who the hell are you?” I recognize a scammer when I see one.

  “Keisha!” Gloria scolds me as she accompanies the men. “Where are your manners? I’m sorry, gentlemen, this is my niece, Keisha. She’s the owner of the duplex.” She glares at me. “She’s the one that’s responsible for all of the decisions around here.”

  “I’m also the one that is responsible for letting you pay cheap rent and I don’t see you mouthing off about that.” I smartly reply and Gloria straightens her posture.

  “My name is Edward Georgian and this my brother, Lance.” The man produces a business card and I recognize his last name being Armenian. Now my thoughts of him being a snake-oil salesman are correct. I should ask him how the rest of the Kardashians are doing. “We were wondering if you were interested in selling your property.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Keisha, listen to what the men have to say. They’ve made a very good first offer.” Gloria nods.

  “An offer of money you won’t receive?” I reply. “I’m not selling the duplex.”

  “What if we offer you right now, three hundred thousand?” Lance offers. He’s a bit taller than Mr. Kardashian and slimmer. I guess I was talking to Kim, and this one is Khloe. I wonder where Kourtney is. “What do you say?”

  “I say you’re lowballing me from the jump and you hope my naiveté and age will prove I’m stupid enough to take you on that offer.” I produce a business card of my own. “If you’re serious about this home, you’ll call and speak with Prince Jones. He’s my father and my aunt’s brother. Good day, gentlemen.”

  I make my way towards the house as I overhear my auntie apologize to the men for my rudeness and she assures them I’ll change my mind. I’m not even a few feet into my home when Gloria comes barging in. “You are so damn rude!”

  “Why in the hell were you entertaining those men?” I ask. “This is not your home. You have no right to tell anyone what I plan to do with it.”

  “Do you want to stay here in the ‘hood, Keisha? People are shot for no reason here! Didn’t a few of your friends die within the past few years because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time? Do you like being inside when it’s only six o’clock at night because if you step foot outside you might get shot? Do you like hearing helicopters and seeing police chases up and down our street? I don’t! I don’t want to stay here! I want to get the fuck out of Inglewood!”

  “Then go!” I shout. “I’m not forcing you to stay here. If you want to leave, ain’t nobody stopping you from doing so. But what you not gon’ do, is talk to some scammers about me selling this home. You keep talking about black-owned this, black-owned that. How we need to have pride in our community. And then you gon’ get mad at me because I refuse to sell to some Kardashians? Woman, have you lost your damn mind?”

  “You’re not going to get a better offer than that, Keisha!” Gloria shouts back. “You think any black realtors are going to offer 300 grand for this home? You think any Latino realtors are going to look out for you? They don’t care about you, Keisha. They don’t care about anyone than themselves. They ain’t trying to learn English, but you have to learn Spanish. How does that feel?”

  “It feels like you voted for the wrong candidate this last election,” I smart back, “listen, I’m not selling the home until I’m ready and I don’t know when that’ll be. If you don’t want to stay here, don’t. But please, don’t worry about what I’m going to do when my decisions will not affect your life. Now please excuse me, I need to clean up my home.” I turn around to leave when Gloria stops me again.

  “For that white boy that comes over?” She says. “That guy who only comes over for a few hours and leaves? You think I don’t know what’s going on? It’s obvious he’s using you and you’re letting him. I have to say he’s an upgrade from that Jalen fella, but not much. You think that white boy wants to come over here with the possibility he’s going to get shot every time he steps foot inside your home? You need to think about how your actions are affecting other people.”

  I turn around and shake my head. If my auntie wanted to hurt me, she did a splendid job. “I sell this home and you’re not getting a dime. You think you’ll be able to stay here while Becky and Timmy gentrify the hell out of it? Rents are going up all over L.A. and everyone is being pushed out. You think it won’t apply to you? I can leave anytime and not look back, but you cannot say the same. I’m keeping this home because if I don’t, it’ll be you on the streets, not me. Now if you have anything else smart you want to say, save it. I have a guest coming over tonight and I need to smudge the hell out of this house to cleanse it from your negative bullshit. Good day!”

  Nine

  I must’ve showered and scrubbed every crevice on my body.

  Savior is supposed to come over at any time and I’m not sure what his protocol is. Would he want to talk first? Watch a little TV? Or will he get straight to business with no foreplay?

  Will this last all night or will I wonder if I could’ve had a V8 like Robin in Waiting to Exhale? A sista has questions.

  “Looking for Mr. Do Right” is softly playing and a few candles are lit. Even though I know it’s just sex and nothing but, I felt the need to make it as romantic as possible. It’s for my sanity and not his.

  I decide to wear just boy shorts and a tank top. I figured if I’m going to be butt-ass naked, there was no point of removing a lot of clothing. It was easier for everyone involved that I’m close to naked as possible.

  I keep telling myself it’s just sex and that’s all there’s to it. He gets off and I get to go to college free. I’ll have a shiny BMW to boot and I won’t have to worry about Savior for the rest of my time at the local community college until I transfer.

  I need to look at this the way it supposed to be – it’s business between us and that’s it. All of Savior’s compliments are just nice things he’s saying so I can remember them when he spreads my thighs open.

  He’s clinical, mechanical, and very unromantic about this whole ordeal. Who knows how many women he’s approached this with and how many women out there right now are going to college on Savior Ellison’s dime. I’m probably one of out several. Why am I doing this?

  I want to drink to calm my nerves but the way I’m feeling, I would down the entire wine bottle. Savior would want me sober and be as coherent as possible. I don’t want anything to cloud my judgment tonight.

  The doorbell rings and my heart leaps out of my chest. He’s here. My throat swallows the bile that threatens to come out and my body shivers with nervousness and anticipation. I’m half-excited, half-scared, but interestingly enough, I’m not even aroused.

  I walk to the front door and peep through the hole. Savior is standing behind it and immediately, my nervousness goes away. I open the door and smell his wonderful, masculine scent before we meet eyes.

  He’s still dressed in the attire from earlier and he brought a small gift for me, a dozen roses. “For you,” he smiles.

  I grab the long-stemmed roses and sniff them. For someone who claimed he didn’t want to do romance, he could’ve fooled me. “Thank you. Come in.”

  Savior walks to my bedroom and I put the flowers in a vase with water. I meet Savior in the bedroom an
d close the door behind me. He’s staring at an old photo of me and my father when I was two. I honestly don’t remember that photo but it’s one of my favorites. It tells me my Daddy always had my back.

  Savior turns his attention to another photo of me, from my high school days when I was at a house party. I had a red cup in my hand and laughing at the camera with the rest of my girls. My hair was shoulder-length and I had the typical style every black girl in L.A. wore in the early 2000’s. High school wasn’t even that long ago but I still have great memories.

  “Why did you cut off your hair?”

  Only the crackle of the candles and Keith Sweat’s voice fills the room. The question surprises me and I didn’t think it was something he would care about. “Something different,” I reply. “My hair grows pretty quickly so I can always grow it out.”

  Savior puts down the photo and slowly shakes his head. “No, I like it like that. I get to see more of your beautiful face.”

  I’m glad the candles are lit so he couldn’t see the embarrassment my face had. If he’s trying to get into my panties with all of these compliments, I’m not stopping him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He looks around at other photos. Despite him being here before, it’s clear the first visit was proving a point to me. This visit, however, is more personable. Professional and clinical Savior is gone. Authentic and down-to-earth Savior has appeared.

  He sits down on the bed and takes in more of the bedroom. It’s rather simple – a four-poster bed, a dresser with mirror, and a standard closet. I have a desk over at the corner that holds all of my clutter and I keep a vibrator tucked away in my naughty drawer.

  Savior’s eyes are quizzical and studious. It seems he’s trying to figure me out without actually asking questions. I’m not sure if I like that or I want him out before he can get me off.

  “Come here, Keisha.”

  I walk over to Savior and he pulls me on top of his lap before I had a chance to sit beside him. He wraps his arms around me and his body feels amazing. My heart is no longer pounding out of my chest and I feel strange warmth between us, like if this was a regular thing.

  He looks up at me and we lock eyes. His brown eyes softened and I see flickers of joy within them. “Whenever you feel uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll stop. Your happiness is my top priority.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Are there things you don’t want to do?” He asks.

  “No anal,” I reply, “that’s a hard limit for me.”

  Savior nods. “Okay. Anything else?”

  “That’s it for now. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” At least I hope I’ll let him know.

  “Good.” His response is above a whisper. Before I can ask him about condoms, Savior falls back onto the bed and pulls me with him. His mouth claims mine and his hands explore my body.

  The way this man kisses me…it’s indescribable. He takes a part of my soul and gently holds it as his mouth makes love to mine. He gives me the right amount of tongue and passion, drinking me in with each kiss. He tastes like mint, a bit of bourbon, and his own flavor.

  His hands wander all over my body before landing on my ass. He squeezes it and I moan into his mouth. “Savior…” I whisper.

  “Shhh…” He kisses my neck and I lose all restraint. His lips gently suck on my skin and only moans come out of my mouth. “…the only sounds I want you to make is when I’m pleasuring you.”

  Our clothes fall onto the floor. The music switched to Kut Klose’s “I Like” and all I think it’s the perfect soundtrack to what’s going on. Yes, it is just sex but it somehow feels deeper than that. Maybe it’s my mind justifying what I’m doing.

  Savior hovers over me and looks into my eyes. He just stares at me for a moment and his brown eyes flicker with lust and excitement. He doesn’t dare to say anything else as he moves his body down mine.

  He squeezes my breasts, sucking each one before he moved down to my waist. He softly kissed my navel and circles my belly button with a finger. His eyes are studious, as his hands explore my body, wondering where to go next.

  “Your body, Keisha…” Savior purrs. His voice is dripping with pleasure and need. “…your body is incredible.”

  It was a compliment I didn’t know I needed. Savior isn’t shy with words and only prefers to speak unless he has something to say. I try not to take it to heart but within the candlelight and sexy music in the room, I wonder how much of what Savior is saying is true.

  “Keisha…” His voice whispers as hand brushes over my wet slit. “…you’re so wet for me.” He slides down and lifts one of my legs on his shoulder. I feel his stubble on my inner thigh and I tense up. He’s pleasured me before but this time, it’s different.

  There’s no conversation coaxing me to give into him. There are no clinical feelings about what’s going to transpire. It feels like romance, even if Savior told me that wasn’t what he wanted.

  Savior’s tongue swipes over my swollen clit and I arch off the bed. He holds me down on the bed and his tongue flattens. His mouth claims my sex, sucking on me while his tongue rapidly flicks my clit.

  One of his free hands explored my body while the other hand firmly grasped my thigh. I moaned and gasped, feeling the loss of control I so tightly held. Savior had an unpredictable rhythm that drove me wild, and I was already addicted to him. His tongue is diabolical, his mouth is skilled, and I am in heaven.

  “Savior…” My fingers were lost in his hair.

  He responded by increasing his tongue flicks and I felt the heat billowed down to my core. My orgasm was approaching and the harder I fought it, the harder Savior sucked on my clit. I was close to the edge and he didn’t want me carefully tread along it. He wanted me to fall right off.

  My legs begin to shake. My moans became soft mewls. I panted and moved my hips in the direction of his tongue. The way his tongue fucked me, stroking me just right and lifting me off the bed, was beyond any fantasy I’ve ever had.

  The orgasm came hard and fast, seizing my body into a vise and tumbling out of my mouth in a primal scream. “Oooh fuck!” I slammed back into bed, completely delirious and wondering what in the hell just happened.

  I barely open my eyes and locked eyes with Savior. He has a warm smile on his face and he’s stroking his impressive cock. His entire body is beautiful – not too muscular and not too scrawny. He has a tawny complexion and his brown hair casually falls over his eyes.

  His eyes are full of desire and despite his massive erection, he’s very much in control. It’s not a control for his benefit. He wants to see that I’m satisfied first and then he’ll take care of himself.

  He grabs a nearby condom and tears open the foil. Savior shifts off the bed and stands before me. He grabs my ankles, pulls me down to him, and spreads my thighs apart. His cock is hard, thick, and I wonder if would be able to take all of it.

  The head of Savior’s cock swipes around my opening before he pushes inside. I gasped and tighten around him as he moans. “Keisha…” His voice echoes in the bedroom. “…damn, baby.”

  “Savior…” I cry out.

  He glides in and out of me so smoothly, like if he’d studied my body. I felt every wonderful inch of his glorious, thick cock as my pussy suckled the length of it. Savior felt higher than any drug, and I didn’t want to come down.

  His thrusts were diabolical, maddening, and so deep. My body responded like never before, embracing his thickness. My pussy quivered around his cock, wanting more. Savior holds onto my hips when he increased the pace, and his words…his words promised me everything.

  “You’re so beautiful, Keisha,” he groans as a free hand reaches up and squeezes my breasts. “You’re mine. I won’t let you go.”

  I tighten around him, pulling him in deeper. The pressure was beginning became too much and I moaned and cried. My hands gripped his arms as my head slammed back into the pillow. I felt so full, yet I couldn’t get enough. I wanted more of this.

  I
wanted more of Savior.

  He reaches up and grabs my hands, interlocking our fingers together. He claims my mouth once again, plundering his tongue inside mine. He’s claiming me. He’s branding me. I’m his and he drives the point home.

  The orgasm slammed into me like a Mack truck. My body rolled as delicious pinpoints of pleasure seized my body, creating aftershocks as Savior was still inside me. I cried and keened, vibrating against his mouth.

  He thrusts a few more times before he finally pulls out of me, disposing the condom and coming all over my body. “Fuck!” He growls and trembles, shooting his hot seed all over me.

  Carnal desires take over me and my mouth is hungry for his taste. I swipe some come from my chest and swallow it as I stare back at him. I’m daring him to fuck me again, to give me all of him, and silently asking him if this is still just sex.

  Savior collapses on top of me. His cock is still hard and he’s still coming. He presses his forehead against mine and sweetly kisses me. “Keisha…” he moans, cupping my face and kissing me again. “…Keisha.”

  There are no fancy lunches. No Armani suits. No expensive cars. No false pretenses. We’re stripped. Bare. Raw. Beyond naked. We’re both in a daze and don’t want to come down.

  It’s a side of Savior no one has seen before. He’s a man who separates sex from love and has done a great job of doing so. What happened between us just now was beyond that. Savior was vulnerable and he let his guard down.

  “Where are your towels?” He asks.

  “In the hallway.” I whisper.

  He gets up and opens the door, briefly checking to see if Junie and Tasha are home. He walks out of the bedroom, and grabs a towel, stopping by the bathroom to moisten it. He returns to the bedroom and begins to clean my love, being gentle with it.

  He wipes himself off and tosses the towel aside before he climbs back into bed with me. I roll over and cuddle with him as Savior kisses my forehead.