In Firm Pursuit (12 page)

B
y the time Jefferson's plane landed at San Diego's Lindbergh Field Airport, it was close to nine and his sinus problem was ten times worse. The airplane pressure had clogged his ears and breathing through his nose was almost impossible. All he wanted to do was sleep for a week.

Jefferson trudged down the airplane ramp, then stopped to read the maze of signs to figure out which way he needed to go. Somehow, he managed to make it to the street level and started searching for the cab stand. He felt a tap on his shoulder at the same time a sexy female voice purred, “Welcome home!”

He turned around to find LaKeesha smiling up at him.

“What're you doing here?”

“I knew you weren't feeling well, so after you called me to change your flight, I decided to pick you up so you wouldn't have to catch a cab.”

LaKeesha was wearing baggy jeans and a tight-fitting sweater that buttoned down the front. The top three buttons were undone. Jefferson was beginning to think the girl didn't even own a bra.

“You didn't have to do that, LaKeesha,” Jefferson replied, but he was actually grateful that he did not have
to use what little energy he had left trying to get to the Residence Inn. “I think I might have something more serious than a sinus problem. I hope it's not the flu.”

“Poor baby,” LaKeesha said. She reached for his duffel bag and he willingly let her have it. As soon as he settled into the front seat of her Honda Civic, he reclined the chair as far back as it would go and promptly fell asleep.

Forty minutes later, LaKeesha had the passenger door open and was trying to shake him awake. “Hey, Jefferson, wake up. We're here.”

It took a minute for Jefferson to realize where he was. When LaKeesha extended her hand to help him out of the car, he pulled so hard, she tumbled into his lap. He felt her cheek brush against his.

LaKeesha giggled and climbed out. “Why don't you hold on to the door instead?” she said.

Jefferson gripped the roof of the car and lifted himself out. He now had a pounding headache to accompany his plugged-up nose and ears. LaKeesha stayed close behind him as he wobbled up the stairs toward his room on the second floor of the inn.

They stopped outside his room and Jefferson dug into the pocket of his sweatpants, took out the white card key and slipped it into the metal slot in the door. He pushed it open, flipped on the light and charged straight for the couch, sprawling out across it.

“I'm going to fix you a hot toddy that's guaranteed to make you feel better,” LaKeesha said, marching into the tiny kitchenette. “In the meantime, here's some Sudafed.”
She set a glass of water and four red pills on the coffee table in front of him. “I think you might need a double dose.”

Jefferson sat up. “You just happen to carry this stuff around with you?”

“Nope,” she laughed. “I stopped at Vons and picked up some groceries, but you were snoring when we pulled into the parking lot and snoring even louder when we pulled out.”

LaKeesha walked back into the kitchenette and began opening and closing cabinets. Jefferson watched as she took three lemons from a grocery bag, cut them in half and squeezed lemon juice into a pan. She added a few tablespoons of honey and turned the burner up high. When the mixture reached a boil, she poured some into a cup, then added a healthy dose of whiskey.

“Did you eat dinner?” LaKeesha asked. She walked over to the couch and handed him a cup and saucer. “I don't want to give you this on an empty stomach.”

“Yeah, I ate,” he replied, although he'd only had a few spoonfuls of shrimp fried rice before storming out of Vernetta's office. He was already starting to regret leaving the way he had. He would call Vernetta and apologize as soon as LaKeesha left.

The first sip of the hot drink LaKeesha had prepared soothed his throat. “Hey, this is pretty good,” Jefferson said. He really appreciated the way LaKeesha was taking care of him. But when she joined him on the couch and picked up the remote, a warning signal went off in his head.

He turned to face her. “Uh, hey, thanks for everything,” Jefferson said. “You don't have to hang around.”

LaKeesha smiled at him. “I have a history exam tomorrow. Is it okay if I study in the bedroom for a couple of hours? I promise not to disturb you.”

Some part of Jefferson's subconscious told him that he should tell LaKeesha to leave, but how could he do that when she had been so nice to him? He knew exactly what the girl was all about and he did not want to give her the impression that he was down with it. But if she was really going to study, there was no harm in her hanging around. He had already nipped things in the bud when he sent her home the other night and she'd been cool since then. Besides, he felt so lousy he would need a jack to prop up his dick.

“No problem,” he said.

LaKeesha picked up her book bag and headed into the bedroom. Jefferson stretched out on the couch and was asleep in seconds. About an hour later, LaKeesha opened the bedroom door and stuck her head out. “Hey, boss man, I was about to heat up the clam chowder I picked up at the store. Want some?”

“Actually I am a little hungry,” Jefferson said.

When LaKeesha walked past him into the kitchenette he saw that she had changed into a pair of shorts. Actually, hot pants would be a more accurate description. As she stood in front of the sink, Jefferson had a full view of her left butt cheek. He turned away and tried to concentrate on “The Parkers” rerun on the television screen. He was going to let her fix him some clam chowder and then put her ass out. He was too old to be played like this.

He heard the ping of the microwave, then LaKeesha walked over to the couch carrying a serving tray with two
bowls and a package of Ritz crackers. “Is anything good on?” She repeatedly pressed the remote and stopped when she got to BET.

After a minute or so of watching three half-naked Generation Xers shake their asses, Jefferson reached for the remote control.
Did the girl really think he didn't know what was up?

“Let's see what else is on,” Jefferson said. He flipped past several stations and stopped when he found a “Seinfeld” rerun.

When he was almost done with his clam chowder, LaKeesha stood up. “I almost forgot to make you another hot toddy.”

LaKeesha busied herself in the kitchenette and in what seemed like seconds, handed him a second steaming hot cup of her special brew. When he took a sip, he could tell that she had used twice as much whiskey as before. The buzz felt great.

Jefferson closed his eyes as he took another swallow.
What the hell?
All he was doing was sitting on a couch next to a woman fine enough to make any man's dick turn to steel. It certainly did not constitute infidelity.

They watched the rest of
Seinfeld
and when it was over, Jefferson decided it was time for LaKeesha to leave. But first, he wanted another drink. “Got any more of that hot toddy stuff?” he asked. His head still hurt and he could barely breathe. If he got blasted, at least he would be able to sleep through the night.

In a flash, LaKeesha was standing directly in front of him, her crotch inches from his face, handing him his third
hot toddy. Jefferson felt a tingle of arousal. He looked down at his pants to make sure his growing erection was not visible through his sweatpants. He took a sip of the drink. This one was almost pure whiskey. He chuckled to himself. The girl was trying to get him drunk, and she was doing a damn good job of it. He could usually hold his own, but whiskey was not his drink of choice. It was probably the four extra Sudafed capsules he had just taken.

“Hey, LaKeesha, thanks for everything,” he said, taking a warm swallow. His words were slightly slurred. “But it's getting late. I think you've wasted enough of your time babysitting me.” She was sitting down next to him, much closer than before.

“Yeah, I guess it is about time for me to be rolling up outta here.” She eased off the couch and stretched, then bent down to collect the dishes from the coffee table, treating him to another view of her exposed rear end.

Her movements were noticeably measured and Jefferson could tell that she was waiting for him to stop her. Once she had straightened up the kitchen, LaKeesha gathered her books from the bedroom, then returned to the main room and stuffed them into her book bag. She was almost at the door when she stopped.

“Hey, I forgot to ask about your shoulder,” she said.

Jefferson rubbed his neck. He did not remember his head feeling so heavy. “Haven't had a problem since that massage you gave me.”

“Well, let's see.” Before he could object, LaKeesha had dropped her book bag to the floor and darted over to the couch. “Your trapezius muscles still seem a little
tight.” Her fingers glided up, down and across his shoulders and neckline.

Damn, that feels good.
Jefferson lowered his chin to his chest. He was not doing anything wrong, he told himself. She was practically a professional masseuse. He would make her leave as soon as she finished his massage.

Jefferson wasn't sure if it was the whiskey or the Sudafed or the massage, but he was feeling quite mellow. And he suddenly realized that he could almost breathe through his nose again. LaKeesha had lit some incense and a strong, sweet smell invaded the room. Closing his eyes, he became lost in his relaxing massage.

Jefferson could not remember exactly how it had happened, only that it
was
happening. He felt what seemed like a dozen pairs of lips kissing the back of his neck and a dozen pairs of hands roaming his body, sending sparks of pleasure in a thousand different directions. When he opened his eyes, he found LaKeesha kneeling between his legs, using one hand to untie the drawstring of his sweatpants, while her other hand massaged his erection through the thick cotton fabric.

Before he could process exactly what was going on, LaKeesha had already freed him and gently taken every inch of him into her warm, wet mouth. When his brain had finally put it all together, he did not possess the will or the desire to put an end to it. He settled back on the couch and moaned in a way that could only give her encouragement.

When the last of his mental resistance had faded—for no physical opposition had ever surfaced—he gently stroked her head, encouraging her all the more.

P
recisely three seconds after Jefferson came, all of his brain cells rushed back into his head with the velocity of a speeding car slamming into an invisible wall of steel.

Oh, shit!

“So,” LaKeesha said, grinning up at him, “how was it?”

Jefferson's lips felt like rubber. He tried to speak, but he could not get the words from his brain to his lips. “LaKeesha…I…this really wasn't cool. I…we…we shouldn't have done this.”

Jefferson clumsily tucked himself back in and retied the string of his sweats.

LaKeesha, still kneeling between his legs, winked up at him. “Don't sweat it, boss man. I know the deal. You're a happily married man, right?
You
didn't do anything. This was something
I
wanted to do.”

You try telling that to my wife!

Jefferson could hear the thumping of his heart and his air supply felt uncomfortably low. All he could do was shake his head in disgust at himself for letting this happen. The haze he had felt from the whiskey, the Sudafed and his congested sinuses had completely vanished and he could see far clearer than he wanted to.

“This really wasn't cool,” Jefferson said. “This can't ever happen again. You have to…we gotta…” He could not think straight. “LaKeesha, this shouldn't have happened and it can't happen again. Ever. You gotta leave. Now.”

LaKeesha was obviously disappointed, but played it cool. “No problem, boss man.” She walked toward the door and bent down to pick up her book bag, pointing her ass directly at him. “I'm off tomorrow, so I'll see you on Thursday. Feel better.” She blew him a kiss and walked out.

When she closed the door, Jefferson flung his head back against the couch. “Shit!”

He sat still for several seconds, then glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. He reached for his cell phone and hit the second button on the speed dial. “Man, we have to fire LaKeesha!” he sputtered when Stan picked up.

“Fire her?” Stan said groggily. “For what?”

Jefferson paused. He should have taken some time to think things through before calling Stan. “'Cause we can't afford an assistant.”

“What? Man, what're you talking about? LaKeesha's the only reason we've been able to keep track of our invoices. And she's very nice to look at. We ain't firing her.”

“Man, I messed up. I messed up bad.”

“What're you talking about?”

Jefferson groaned. “Man, she came over here. She fixed me this drink. She got all up on me and—” He paused to take a breath. “Man, I just fucked up.”

Stan let out a long, low whistle, letting Jefferson know that he understood exactly what had gone down.

“So we just gotta fire her,” Jefferson said again. “We can tell her it's a layoff. That we don't have enough work.”

“Aw, man, you lucky dog! You had a slice of that little tenderonie? I told you she wanted to give you some. How was it?”

“Are you nuts? I didn't want this to happen. She kept giving me this whiskey stuff and—”

“Oh, so you saying she got you drunk and took advantage of you,” Stan chuckled. “I'm sure your wife'll buy that story.”

“My wife won't have to buy that story because she's never going to find out about this,” Jefferson said. “That's why we gotta fire LaKeesha. If Vernetta calls the office and LaKeesha says something to her, I'll—”

“Hold on, man. Just calm down. I don't know if firing LaKeesha is the right thing to do. The minute we let her go, she'll probably run back to that temp agency claiming sexual harassment.”

Jefferson rubbed his face with his open palm. “I messed up bad.”

“Just hold on,” Stan said. “Man, please tell me you put on a raincoat.”

Jefferson inhaled like it might be his last breath. “I didn't, but—”

“How could you be that stupid?” Stan exploded.

“What if she gets pregnant?”

Jefferson's free hand curled into a tight ball. “It didn't go down like that, Stan. She gave me some head, man. I didn't ask for it. She just did it. I swear.”

“Head? Is that all? Aw, man, that ain't nothing. That ain't
even really sex,” Stan said, chuckling. “If the president can get his dick sucked in the Oval Office, you should be able to get a blow job at the Residence Inn.” Stan started cracking up.

“This ain't funny, Stan. And you better not tell your wife because there's no way Vernetta can ever find out about this.”

“Man, just cool out. Everything's going to be fine. But I'm not with you on the firing tip. Just play it cool and keep it in your pants for a few more weeks, then you two can go your separate ways. That little girl knew exactly what she was doing. When she comes back to work, everything has to be strictly business.”

Stan consoled Jefferson for a few more minutes, then urged him to get some sleep.

Jefferson was about to close his cell phone when he noticed that he had a voice mail message. He knew it was from Vernetta before he even punched in his code.

He flipped the phone closed, then hung his head and did something he had not done in a long, long time.

He prayed.