Church Girl Gone Wild (8 page)

The entire concept of the party was pretty obvious; it wasn't meant for anyone to make it to twenty shots. We managed to fight down two more shots of jungle juice and three Jell-O shots that were surprisingly hella stronger than the jungle juice but a lot easier to get down. I needed to sit down because the room was spinning and he needed to pee. We compromised and I sat on the edge of the counter closest to the toilet. I closed my eyes for what felt like the briefest second. My arm moved just enough to snap me out of my tipsy power nap and when I looked up good old toga-clad Batman was standing in front of me stroking his bat cane.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked scooting myself as far back as I could with the limitation of my cuffed wrist.

He responded by biting his lower lip, sliding his hand faster up and over, again and again. It was more exciting than scary. I focused on the dimple in his chin and told my eyes not to go any lower, but since when did they ever listen? My lips dried and I couldn't close my mouth to wet them because all the wetness in me had decided to just pour itself from in between my legs. Why was it so hard to just be good, do right, and have as little sinful sex as possible?

Maybe I need to get some stuff out of my system and then things will go back to normal. No strings, no problems, nothing.
I nodded at my masked crusader and he took a step forward standing directly in between my thighs. I scooted to the edge of the counter until I could feel the heat from his skin just inches away. Before I could think about it anymore or feel guilty, I imagined Que doing this very thing with his wife and I surprised Batman and myself. Pushing off the counter, I took the seat he'd been so proudly showing off.

He groaned. I hissed through my teeth. Batman felt thicker and longer than Que, and he hurt so good I was gasping. He gripped my ass roughly guiding me up and down his bat stick. I was on the best standing rodeo ride of my life, hanging on with my one free arm around his thick neck. We could hear voices getting closer to the bathroom door and my heart started hammering away between my thighs. The excitement of getting caught combined with his perfectly deep strokes was all I needed. The first wave came crashing in. It was one of those beach-destroying waves. The kind that takes the old sand makes new islands, making me say things like:

“Oh Willoughby shit,” I panted.

It felt like he was trying to push me up but I'd locked my thighs around his waist slamming down against him.

My simple behind was coming and by the time I realized we didn't use a condom I could feel him throbbing and painting my insides with white gold. Shock and panic made me lift myself up off his johnson in a rush. My bracelet caught the back of his mask. I pulled away taking it over his head. My own mask had gotten knocked crooked as I was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. I sat there with my legs still shaking from post-climatic tremors staring up in shock at Dontay.

Shocked I tried to recover squeezing my eyes shut as if it would help me un-see and un-feel every bit of Dontay that I'd just experienced. If I'd been paying attention I'd have noticed he was the only person in the room with a mask that hid his eyes.

Feeling foolish I glared at him. I picked myself up off the floor snatching some toilet paper off the roll to catch the wet heat running down my thigh.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Eva?”

“What am
I
doing here? You can't question me. I was invited. What the hell are you doing trolling my homegirl's party?” I snapped back at him.

His nostrils flared. “I'm not the deacon's daughter. Bear is my nigga; he invited me. I just came to window shop.”

“Then what the hell was all that?” I slashed my hands through the air referring to what we'd just done.

“What was what? Us fuckin' just now? That was me having some kinky voyeuristic fun in front of a complete stranger so I wouldn't have any slip-ups out there. I didn't know it was you, and I sure as hell ain't know you'd just hop on. Wait, you thought I was this Willoughby nigga?”

My eyes widened in horror.
What did I just do?

Dontay reached down between our wrists, his fingers grazed my skin, and I felt myself blush. He pressed along the inside of his cuff and they fell off like magic.

“No, I didn't think you were someone else.”
I just wished it.
“I meant um, Willoughby spit, it's a beach that a hurricane pretty much spit in the middle of, never mind.”

“I'll give you some time to get cleaned up.” He winked and grinned down at me. “You do got some good pussy though.”

A wicked chill ran down my spine as he eased through the door. My mouth dropped open and snapped shut. I was at a complete loss for words. Leaning on the sink I stared at myself in the mirror trying to process what'd just happened. I twisted the knob, splashing cold water on my cheeks. I needed to find something to clean myself off and out. Que'd had a vasectomy so babies and birth control weren't even on my radar with him. Dontay tapped lightly on the door.
Hopefully he found me a washcloth, some paper towels, hell some spermicidal cream.

I clicked the lock and in burst none other than Que. Seeing him sent me from happy to hate so fast it had to be a world record. He was in full toga attire with a Zorro mask tied around his eyes and a bandanna covering his mouth. How no one else recognized him was beyond me; maybe it was the sex that made him look familiar even in a disguise.

He pulled the bandana down letting it hang around his neck. “Eva, baby, I've missed you so much.”

Que took a pleading step toward me and I took an anxious step back. Seeing him and hearing his voice had me reliving all of our moments over again in my head. He was my first everything down to my first heartache.

My voice was shaky. “I don't know how you got in here.” I lifted my chin so my eyes would be higher than his. “But you need to leave before I tell everyone who you are and then have Bear whoop your ass.”

His lips shook. “It doesn't matter. What do you think I'd do without you? Nothing. I'm not even at the school anymore. I quit that bullshit job and my wife for you.” Que stared me in my eyes. The bandana around his neck had him looking like a booty bandit or a heart bandit.

He was saying everything I needed to hear. I just didn't feel like I could believe him or trust him.

“Que, what you did was unforgiv—”

Before the words were out of my mouth his lips were on mine. Que didn't spark the same feeling I'd just had with Dontay. Que gave me a sense of urgent familiarity. His kisses always felt like he was trying to climb into my soul, through my lips. They made me feel weak and breathless. I melted into him, feeling him grow rock solid against my stomach.

“You were a bad girl weren't you?” he whispered against my lips.

Confused tears slid down my cheeks. On the one hand it felt good to know he still wanted me; on the other I felt like I was playing myself if I took him back. He pinched my nipples into tight points underneath my toga. I tried looking every which way but at him, scared he'd see the answer before I could decide on a lie.

“Answer me.” He bit my bottom lip.

I gave him a pitiful nod. His lies hurt me and my truth could hurt him, but I wanted him to feel every bit as hurt as I'd felt. Que rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth. He was too quiet for my liking. We were alone in the bathroom and there was no telling what was going through his mind. The music out in the party area was so loud no one would even hear me if I screamed. I squeezed my eyes tight fighting a silent debate on whether I should go for the door or ask him if he was okay.

The room spun or at least it felt like it. In one fluid motion Que lifted me throwing my legs over his shoulders. His mouth felt like molten lava on my kitty. I grabbed his head closer and then I tried pushing at him away.
Oh no, oh no, oh no. Please, God, don't let him kill me.
He held me hostage with my back pinned against the wall; my head was just inches away from the ceiling. I was on the verge of a heart attack or hyperventilation. If he hadn't tasted Dontay yet he was about to. Panicked I did a combo of slapping his head and trying to squirm away. Que sucked and slurped on my lips like he hadn't eating anything since the last time we'd seen each other.

“Mmm hmm, I knew it. You been real bad without daddy around,” he sighed into my kitten.

It was coming. I tensed waiting for that zero-gravity freefall as I was dropped or thrown to the floor. He growled, digging his fingers so hard into my thighs I'd be wearing pants for a month to hide the bruises. He snaked his tongue deep inside me churning it back and forth devouring every drop of mixed nectar he came in contact with.

He paused just long enough to ask, “You still love me, baby?” He pressed his nose and upper lip into my pearl shaking his head from side to side while tonguing me. He slowed to an almost torturous stop waiting on his answer.

I softly knocked the back of my head against the wall in frustration, so close it was killing me. “You know I love you. I missed you; please don't play right now.”

I moved my hips grinding into his lips, riding his face. Satisfied with my response he went back to work. Sparks were shooting off behind my eyelids; my legs locked shakily around his ears. My back arched so hard I couldn't make a sound if I wanted to.

Que alternated between planting soft kisses on my inner thighs and I peeled my eyes open slowly. The river was still there, crackling and roaring in my ears as my senses came back.

“Fuck me sideways on a Sunday, my girl is a freeeeeak.” Storie stood in the bathroom doorway grinning like I'd just won a gold medal in the Freak Olympics.

My humiliated gaze shifted from her to the rest of the party behind her clapping and cheering over the music. Everyone except Batman, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Que eased me down the wall with his fingers digging hard and deep into my side. I winced.

It felt like he'd crack at least two of my ribs. He slid his bandana back into place before leaning close to my ear whispering, “This my pussy. Don't give my shit away again.”

After the wild shit I'd seen at that party I needed to get out and get some action to erase the action I'd gotten. I still couldn't stomach the fact that a nigga was face-deep eating it up after I'd just finished. But Eva let him do it. That's what Storie's parties were for. They were so all the freaks could freak out together.

Messing around with Eva whether intentionally or unintentionally was by no means a good idea. I was supposed to be keeping my nose out of trouble while staying with Deac. Problem with that situation was that Eva seemed to stay on my mind more than she should've been and nobody told me Deac was plum fuckin' nuts. When I got a text from White Boy it didn't take much to make me consider his new wild-ass idea. I rolled out of one freak party and right up into another one. Except this one was a hustle.

I met White Boy outside a house in Great Bridge. From the outside it looked like it had been plucked out of a French fairy tale.

“What up, White Boy? What the hell kind of setup is this?” I asked eyeing our newest mark.

He casually strolled over swinging his long, lanky arms looking like his usual stoner self. “I promise, dawg, once we get in you'll see. The guy who owns this place is royalty or some shit. He flew a plane of my stepdad's shit in just for this party. Does it every year; and we can get in on that dough or dro, stacks or triple stacks, my dude.”

I rubbed my hands together in agreement. If we didn't walk out paid we could at least get in good with a connect.

 

We were given twenty minutes to change and then Gaius, our ambiguously gay chaperone, was keeping an almighty enthusiastic and uncomfortable eye on us from the side of the large banquet hall. I cut my eyes at White Boy as I tried to hide my saddle swag as I did my best to make my rounds. Saddle swag is when you walk like a cowboy who's just ridden a wide-backed cactus across the Painted Desert. My balls was not liking the material of the man thongs they put us in. It was chafing and rubbing me in all the wrong ways. Every time I got close enough to White Boy I had to keep myself from reaching out and wringing his damn neck.

We were both at the side bar refilling our trays. There were about twenty of us all together. The others were spread out enough for me to chew his ass out.

“You ain't tell me we was gonna be damn near butt-ass naked serving these mufuckas and shit.” I gritted my teeth.

“Just chill and keep an eye out for a chance to explore or talk business.”

“Business? Looking like this? When have you ever seen a mufucka talkin' business at a dinner with the hired help?”

“You two.” Gaius flagged us down. “Away, away you go. I need you servicing.”

Checking out the table had me doing my best not to try servicing the French pouty-lipped piece sitting at the table I was entertaining. They had the most shit at their table; she did a couple of lines of coke but I didn't see her reach for anything else. From the way her light pink dress fell her off her in waves to the way her hair was pinned to show off the soft olive-brown swoop of her neck I knew she was either important or her man beside her was. Old boy was on that pimped-out Prince Charming shit, with the white high-collared military jacket, red trim and gold medals pinned on the shoulders. They both sat like they had metal rods implanted in their spines. God must have molded her for Himself and then put her on earth so He wouldn't be tempted. That was the only reason He'd make someone who looked like her.

I couldn't stop watching her out the corner of my eye. Her man kept whispering in her ear and cutting up her food. He had this tick with his right eye like it wanted to blink all by itself and he was fighting that shit hard. So this dude looked mad intense, important, and insane, squinting that one eye at people while they talked to him. He was listening to a chick who I'd swear was a dude in a blond and blue wig when I caught his wifey or whatever staring me down. She waved me over with flick of her finger and a blank expression. My tray had these weird little pastries with apricot and kiwi glaze with crushed-up ecstasy powder on top.

Disgusted I stared down at my junk in its silk black sling.
Chill, my dude, we'll get you right when we get home. Just stay down so I can get us paid and get out of here.
I clenched my embarrassingly bare ass cheeks together and gritted my teeth. Because of my height my junk was pretty much shoulder and eye level every time I walked my tray around. I tried to make my trips as quick and brief as possible. This was the first time she'd called me over as everyone else had gotten a kick out of having me stand there while they debated over pastry A that looked exactly like pastry B. All the while they were really covertly examining “pastry me” under the tray.

I shifted from one foot to the other trying not to notice the plunge in the neckline on the front of her gown now that I was actually up close. It looked like it went clear down to her belly button. Somewhere a metal tray clattered against the marble floor snapping my eyes out her dress and back to the moment. She had this Queen Midas attitude from the way she sat at the center of the table with her solid gold skeleton bracelet. Boney ring extensions covered every finger. It was creepy and sexy in its own way. I waited until Skeletor Princess of the Rich made her selection. Turning with my dignity still intact I'd almost gotten away when,
smack
, the sting of a warm palm cracked against my bare-ass cheek. Now I know how chicks feel when someone grabbed they ass in the club.

“
Gâteau,
” she murmured with a gleam in her eye. Everyone at the table chuckled.

Gaius stepped out of the shadows. “She says ‘cake,'” he answered with a wave.

“The fuck she mean by cake?” I asked glaring between her and Gaius.

She looked right through me and answered Gaius, “
J'aime celui
-
ci, il a foutre.
”

Everyone at the table laughed at whatever comment she'd obviously made insulting me or about me. They were the money; and only because I had a feeling she could get me a meeting with the nigga in charge did I let her slide.

 

 

After the longest, highest dinner party I'd ever seen we were shown to rooms so we could change. White Boy was acting like he'd eaten one too many of those pastries. He was across the room touching every part of the wall like an idiot looking for a hidden panel.

“Dontay, I'm telling you. What if there was one in here and it led to some unexplored crazy shit? Imagine if we found some scrolls or an alchemist's diary.”

I gave him the blankest of blank stares. “I don't even know where you come up with this shit. Don't talk to me unless I can smoke it or spend it.”

I was trying not the mess up the lines in the carpet. At the crib Eva hated it if after she vacuumed you dragged your feet erasing all her neat little lines. Every now and again I'd do it on purpose for fun and Leslie would help, but this wasn't my house. I shot her a text to check on her even though I'd told myself it was going to be Eva free for the rest of the night.

 

WYD woman?

 

Still at Storie's place. Someone stole my car.

 

Someone did what?! I stared at my phone waiting for her to reply.

White Boy jumped halfway across the room when someone knocked on the door.

“Dontay, come with me please,” Gaius purred in his French American accent.

I frowned in White Boy's direction and he responded with his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he shrugged his shoulders. Shaking my head to myself, I bristled up and marched out behind the little Frenchman. He talked about the history of the different pictures on the wall. They were of different battles and queens, who built what where, who killed themselves, who died where. There were even actual hidden passages in the place that went from the master bedroom to his mistress's chamber. You couldn't do anything like that with a black woman. First I'd like to see you move the mistress in and second trying to have a secret anything under the same roof would be damn near impossible.

“So, Gaius, tell me what your girl said about me back there that everyone thought was so funny?” I asked.

“Oh, your ass, she liked it, called it cake and she also said you had spunk. So, we are here. Enjoy your night.
Bonsoir.
” Gaius's fairy tale ended with a mystery. He knocked lightly on the solid oak door in front of us and walked away whistling.

Spunk? What the hell is that supposed to mean? It sure as hell ain't sound funny.
Not one for games, I'd have walked off myself if I knew how to get back to my room. We'd walked down so many hallways and corridors it would take me days to find the front door.

“Hello, brute, come in.” She spoke in surprisingly perfect English.

The pretty thing with the important man toy from dinner stood in the doorway and for whatever reason that annoyed me. All I wanted to do was find this paper and get out without a ton of people recognizing or seeing my face. I agreed to be eye candy and serve dinner and it was all I'd agreed to do. So this shit she was pulling right here was only adding insult to injury. None too pleased with the turn of events I looked in the direction Gaius had just gone, wondering where the hell it led.

“I wanted to pay you in person and apologize for earlier. I am Bellamy-George Saunier. Please call me Bellamy.”

She stepped aside and reluctantly I walked in. Our rooms were night and day. Hers seemed to stretch back farther than the eye could see with giant arched floor-to-ceiling windows taking up two entire walls. My eyes focused on the way her hips moved under the knee-length oversized men's dress shirt she was wearing.
And she had the nerve to talk about my cake; I see them rounds poking out.
Bellamy walked with a natural quirky bounce that made her wavy ass-length hair float like a dark river behind her. It was hypnotizing to watch. I forced my eyes and my thoughts away.

“Yeah, I noticed a lot of recreational product out there. You looking for a partner?”

“No, that's something he wanted to talk to you about.” She nodded toward the bed.

I could vaguely make out a man's form in the shadows. “He liked you,” she said, smiling and slapping a bundle of hundreds wrapped in a gold band marked $10,000.

I shook my head. “Nah, I don't know what impression y'all got. But I don't get down go down or even point in that direction I'm sorry.”

Captain Face Down spoke. “You like her, do you? So how about you and her then; I just watch no?” he asked and his sleazy creepo voice echoed around the room.

My feet started backing me in the direction of the door as I locked eyes with the little princess. “No, I'm sorry.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor and her shoulders slumped in obvious disappointment but not before I caught what looked like a tiny smile cross her face. Her boy wasn't as good at taking rejection as she was.

“You American swill. You dare insult us? You aren't even worth the money we generously throw at you. I will have you and I will fuck your face until you gag and swallow my
jouir,
” he shrieked like a little bitch.

And I stuck around just long enough to see hands tighten into fists as he yanked and tugged against the knotted sheets around his wrists.