Deep Throat Diva (28 page)

“Outta town? For what?”

I didn’t get any sleep, stressing myself over how I was going to keep Jasper from seeing my face so I wouldn’t have to explain—or lie, I should say—to him about what happened. It wasn’t until Felecia left here about an hour ago that a plan hatched in my head. I immediately called Felecia to get her on board with my scheme.

“Bitch, you’re crazy. I can’t rush off to L.A.,” she huffed. “Who’s gonna look after the shop?”

“Nakea will,” I told her as I looked online for airline tickets. “I already woke her ass up and told her I needed her to handle things down at the salon for a few days.” Nakea is one of our cousins from Philly who owns The Pussy Palace—an upscale erotic sex toy store. She also owns a condo in the Tribeca section of Manhattan where she stays three days out of the week.

“A few days? What’s ’a few days?’”

“We’ll be back on Sunday.”

She grunted. “Mmmmph. And what did you have to do for Nakea to agree to all this?”

“Nothing,” I stated.

“Lies!” she snapped. “I love her to death. But ’Kea is about making paper and she ain’t doing shit unless it’s gonna benefit her. So spill it.”

“I agreed to host a sex toy party at the salon.”

“And?”

I laughed. “And I guaranteed her at least a thousand dollar in sales; even if I have to buy everything myself.”

She laughed. “I knew it.”

“Now I need you to go with me; it’s the only way Jasper will believe me. Don’t make me beg your ass.”

“Bitch, you make me sick,” she huffed. “I wanna window seat and a raise. And Saturdays off.”

I laugh. “Done,” I told her, knowing she was going to have my back. “And for an extra bonus, I’ll buy you a few pieces on Rodeo Drive.”

She laughed. “Well, in that case. Book my damn flight.” I joined in her laughter, relieved that she would be my alibi.

“Felecia and I are going to look at wedding dresses.”

“Wedding dresses? Where?”

“L.A.,” I tell him, holding my breath. In my mind’s eye I can see him through the phone frowning.

“What the hell you goin’ way out there to look at dresses for when the city’s right across the bridge? You can get all the hottest shit right there in Manhattan.”

He’s right. And I know exactly where I’m going—Madison Avenue to one of the boutiques. “Yeah, true. But I wanna go look. Besides, I want some real exclusive shit.”

“Yeah, aiight. Don’t let me find out you out there on some ole other shit, yo.”

I suck my teeth. “Jasper, don’t start your shit.”

“Yeah, aiight. When you gonna be back?”

“Sunday,” I tell him as I’m texting Felecia with the flight info. I tell her to call all of my appointments I have booked for the next few days and offer them to reschedule for when I get back, or to see one of the other stylists—on the house, of course since
it is last minute. Then I tell her to only pack an overnight bag. That we’ll shop when we get to L.A.

“And what time you gettin’ in?” I tell him we land at two in the afternoon. “I’ma be at the crib at three, waiting on you.”

“Nigga, you ain’t slick,” I say, laughing.

“Yo, what you mean?”

“Jasper, please. Why you gonna be at the house waiting on me on a Sunday?”

“’Cause I ain’t gonna see ya ass, that’s why.”

“Yeah, right,” I continue, still laughing. “The only reason you’re coming through is to make sure I don’t loan out any of this pussy while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, whatever, yo. You already know what it is.”

Yeah, I know what it is. It’s him being jealous. And not being able to keep tabs on me. Being in prison has really done a number on him. He’s so damn paranoid about everything. Still, I decide to stroke the green-eyed monster, soothe its raging spirit.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be extremely horny when I get back so having your hard dick in bed waiting for me will be exactly what I need. So make sure you take your vitamins, big boy, ’cause you’re gonna need all of your strength to feed this pussy, nigga.” Telling him this seems to relax him—for the moment, anyway.

He laughs. “Yeah, aiight.”

He tells me he’ll have to be back at the halfway house by nine, so we’ll only have a few hours to spend. Tells me to make sure I bring my ass straight home from the airport. It dawns on me that Jasper doesn’t have keys to the house, or the code to the alarm. I tell him the code and where the spare key’ll be. The minute I do, I want to kick myself. Something inside of me says giving him easy access to getting in and out of here may be a bit more than I’m ready for.

Girl, get over yourself. He’s going to be home soon so you might as well get used to the idea of him coming in and out of here. Besides, bitch, his name is on the deed, too.

I glance at the time, realizing I need to get off this phone so I can get showered, packed and to the airport. “Baby, I gotta hop in the shower. Call me later. Love you.”

“Yeah, aiight,” he says, sounding annoyed. “I gotta bounce, anyway. But know this, I’ma be home in a minute. And it’s gonna be a wrap.”

“Umm, what’s gonna be wrapped?”

“You hoppin’ on planes ’n shit whenever you feel like it.”

I laugh. “Whatever, Jasper. You like to hear yourself talk, baby.”

“Yeah, aiight. Laugh if you want. But when I start shuttin’ shit down, don’t say I didn’t warn ya ass. Go on and have ya little fun, baby. Daddy’s gonna be home in a minute.” Before I can open my mouth to say something slick, he disconnects. Of course I don’t put any energy into it since I’m pressed for time. I hop in the shower, throw a few items into my Louis carry-on, then take it downstairs and set it by the door. I go back upstairs, lotion my body up, then slip into a cute brown Emilio Pucci Jersey wrap dress. I walk into my shoe closet, pulling down boxes of designer shoes until I find the right pair to set off my outfit. I decide on a red pair of six-inch Gucci stilettos. I give myself the once-over in my full-length mirror, admiring myself. I put on a pair of brown Versace shades. Despite my swollen eye and the bruise on the side of my face, I’m still looking good. But—
this
time, am I scared? Hell, motherfucking yeah!

If that motherfucker was crazy enough to hide out in bushes for me, he’s crazy enough to come back. And next time, most likely try to kill me. So, hell fucking yeah, I’m scared—shitless!

Between you and me, I’m glad to be getting out of town for a few days. The change of scenery will do me some good. Hopefully,
help me clear my head. The last time I was out to in LA was almost two years ago for a hair and fashion show. I smile at the idea of being out in Tinseltown to shop and chill for a bit. Oh, and
look
for a wedding dress.

Once I get to Newark Airport, I park in short-term parking, then hop the shuttle to Terminal A. I text Felecia to let her know where I am, and she texts back, telling me she just got dropped off and will meet me outside the door for Continental. We get our tickets, go through security, then make it to the gate and board without any problems.

“What did you tell Jasper when you told him you were going to LA?” she asks, snapping her seatbelt in.

“I told him we were going to look at wedding dresses. And we are.”

She looks at my bruised face. “Well, let’s hope your face is healed by the time we have to come back.”

“Well, if it’s not,” I say, cutting my eye at her, “you can come back without me. I’ll stay a few extra days.”

“And tell Jasper what?”

“That I decided to look at some commercial property while I was out there looking for my dress. Bottom line, I’m not coming back to Jersey until my face is back to normal. The last thing I need is Jasper asking me a bunch of questions.” She opens her mouth to say something. I put my hand up, stopping her. “Don’t. He’s not to hear a word about any of this.”

“Alright already. Geesh. Trust me. He won’t hear it from me.”

I take a deep breath, placing my head back on the headrest. “Good. Now let’s enjoy our flight.”

“Jasper, baby?” I call out, walking through the door, dropping my bags in the middle of the foyer. Jasper’s Timbs are beside the
sofa. When he doesn’t respond, I think he’s upstairs laying in bed with a hard dick in his hand, waiting on me to pounce on it. I start stripping off my clothes, going up the stairs to be fucked down by my man. By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I am only in my panties. I walk into the bedroom, look over at the bed. It is empty; still made. I look into the bathroom. Empty. I walk back downstairs. “Jasper, baby, where are you here?” Walk into the kitchen. Empty. Head downstairs to the basement. “Jasper?” He’s sitting on the sofa with his white-socked feet propped up on the table. “Jasper, baby, what are you doing down here?” Silence. He doesn’t turn to look at me; doesn’t acknowledge my presence. He stares straight ahead. “Jasper?” I call out to him, walking over to him. “What’s wrong?” I sit beside him. Reach out to touch him.

He glares at me, smacking my hand out of the way. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me, yo?”

I blink, blink again. Shocked at what he says to me, at him knocking my arm out of the way. “Excuse me? What in the hell’s wrong with you?”

“What the fuck’s been goin’ on around here, yo? Who’s this muthafucka who attacked you in the yard?” Before I can play stupid and ask him what he’s talking about, he tells me that my nosey-ass neighbor saw him outside as he was coming in and asked him if I ever called the police; if they ever found the nigga who attacked me. Tells him how he had to fight the nigga off of me and tried to chase him down, but he had gotten away. Jasper tells me he played it off like he already knew about the shit and told him no; that the police were still looking for the nigga.

My chest tightens and I feel myself getting dizzy as the color drains from my face. Alicia getting her ass beat in my shop immediately flashes through mind. I’ve seen Jasper heated many times, but I’ve never seen him in that I’m-about-to-black-the-
fuck-out mode until now. And it’s scaring me. I stand, shocked and at a loss for words.

“I-I-uh…”

“Yo, don’t come at me wit’ all that fuckin’ stutterin’ bullshit, yo. I wanna know who the fuck put his muthafuckin’ hands on you and why the fuck you ain’t tell me about the shit?”

I scoot back from him, slowly stand up. “Jasper, just calm down for a minute, baby—”

He jumps up from his seat, and yanks me be the arm. “Don’t fuckin’ ’baby’ me, yo. I wanna know what the fuck’s been goin’ on, yo. So you better start talkin’ now before I break ya goddamn jaw, yo.”

His grip on my arm is so tight it feels like he’s about to rip it out of its socket. “Owwww, Jasper, you’re hurting me.”

“Bitch!” he shouts in my face. “I don’t give a fuck about hurting you. You cheating on me, yo?”

“No!” I shout back, hurt and shocked that he has called me out of my name. In all the years we’ve been together, he has never, ever, called
me
a bitch. As deserving as it might be, it cuts through me. Tears well up in my eyes.

“Then who the fuck is that nigga?”

“I don’t know.” And on cue, the waterworks begin and I start fast-talking as if my life depended on it. Shit, it does! “I swear to you, Jasper, I don’t know who he was or what he looked like. He had on a black mask. I was putting my key in the door and out of nowhere he jumped out of the bushes and grabbed me. He was trying to get me into the house, but I threw the house keys so he couldn’t. I started…yelling and screaming and fighting him. But he was too strong. He-he beat me, Jasper,” I sob uncontrollably. He loosens his grip. The fire in his eyes slowly starts to extinguish.

“I wanted to tell you, Jasper. But I was scared. I know you. And
I know you woulda tried to track him down. I didn’t want you getting caught up in anything. I just want you home. I’m tired of being here by myself.” He lets go of my arm. I grab it, rubbing the spot where his hand was. “If Clint didn’t come home when he did, I don’t know what woulda happened to me.”

“Did you call the police?”

I nod. “Yes,” I lie, knowing if I tell him I hadn’t he would want to know why not. And there’s no answer I could give him that would make sense. “But they haven’t found him, yet. He wore gloves so there are no fingerprints anywhere.”

“Is this the same muhfucka who smashed out the shop’s window?”

”I don’t know. I don’t think so. One of the clients said he was a shorter, stocky dude. This one was over six feet, and built more like a basketball player.”

“This shit ain’t makin’ no muthafuckin’ sense. All of a sudden you got muhfuckas smashin’ in windows and tryna snatch you up ’n shit.”

“I think it’s two separate situations; completely unrelated. Niggas wilding out doing dumb shit, that’s all. You know these niggas are crazy now.”

“Well, if you know that, then where the fuck was you comin’ from at one in the goddam mornin’, yo?” I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts in, narrowing his eyes at me. “Before you open ya muthafuckin’ mouth to say some dumb shit, yo, you better think about what the fuck you gonna say ’cause I’ma fuck you up if you don’t.”

“I had cramps really bad and had to go out to the store to pick up a bottle of Excedrin and some tampons ’cause I was all out.” The way he’s looking at me I can tell he’s trying to figure out if he should believe the lies that have fallen out of my mouth or
not. My tears continue to fall rapidly and unchecked. They’re more real now than they were earlier. Fear and guilt fuel them. “Jasper, have I ever given you reason to doubt anything I’ve said to you? Have I ever played you?”

He narrows his eyes again. His jaw relaxes. “Nah, yo.”

“Then why would I start now? We have too much invested for me to go there with you.”

“That don’t mean shit, yo. There’s a first time for e’erything.”

“I have done nothing but love you, Jasper. I’m not trying to lose what we have, baby.”

“And you don’t know who that nigga was?”

“No, I already told you that.”

“I know what the fuck you told me,” he snaps. “And I’m asking you again. Did you know the nigga?”

I shake my head. “No, Jasper, I don’t know who he is.”

“Have you been fuckin’?”

“No, Jasper. I told you. This pussy is yours, and only yours. Always has been, always will be.”