Torn (39 page)

Whoever this Neisha chick was, she couldn't satisfy his needs. She couldn't do the things Mo could do. Mo would do whatever he needed her to do times two. She wanted to be the special someone in his life. She wanted to be the lucky woman to wake up to his face every morning and make love to him at night.

Neisha was of no competition to Mo, though. She was cute and had a nice shape but that was about it. In the looks department, Mo had the chick beat, hands down. But then she remembered that she looked better than Sherry.
And Sherry got yo' man,
her inner voice spoke.

"Why am I even trippin' off this lil' dude? He is not my boyfriend," Mo spoke out loud to herself. "All we did is kiss. It was nothing," she tried to convince herself, when her Sidekick began to ring. It was Boss.

"Hello?" she answered dryly.

"Where you at?"

"On my way home."

"Why?"

"Look, Boss, my head hurts." She massaged her temples.

"I don't feel like explaining."

"You need to be tellin' me something. 'Cause I'm not understanding you right now," he said sternly.

"And I'm not understanding you, either. What, you thought I was gon' wait while you entertain your fan club?

Negro please, you got me and life fucked up. I do not have time for the bullshit."

"Yo, you talkin' real greasy right now. For us to be just friends you on some straight bullshit. And frankly, ma, everything you just said was a bunch of nonsense, so I suggest you get out yo' muthafuckin' feelings, quit all that fakin' and frontin' and let a nigga know what's up. Don't get it twisted, you the one came up to my muthafuckin establishment making my dick hard. I should be the one with the fuckin' attitude."

"You real funny. Whateva, Boss. I'm through talkin'." Mo hung up in his ear with an attitude.

Who the fuck does he think I am?
she thought, getting off the highway. As she pulled up to her building a text message came through on her phone. It was from Boss. It read: From Boss (1-314-555-0002) Date 5/12/2007 6:25 pm

We don't hang up on each other, you understand? That shit ain't cute. U 2 old 4 that bullshit, ma

Ignore Reply

For a second, Mo thought about calling him back and going off, but then she quickly nixed the idea. Going off on Boss would only validate her feelings, and she wasn't ready to deal with that yet.

Back in the sanctity of her home, she checked her voicemail messages and learned that Mina had called. Picking up the phone, she called her back.

"Mina's Joint Salon and Spa. This is Mina speaking."

"What up, hoe?" Mo huffed, taking a rest on her loveseat.

"Where in the hell have you been? I've been callin' you all day."

"At the carwash with Boss."

"Ohhhh, y'all been spending a lot of time together lately." "Calm down, it ain't even nothing like that."

"Umm hmm, that's what your mouth say. Your actions are showing different though."

"Mina, please, ain't nobody trippin' off that lil' boy," Mo scoffed, waving off the idea.

"If that's what you need to tell yourself, child molester."

"Okay, you got jokes. Even if I did like him, I wouldn't tell you or Delicious 'cause all y'all gon' do is make fun of me."

"Mo ... this is me, stop it. Don't try to put this off of on us.

We're not the ones with the problem. Not me, not Delicious, or Boss. It's you. You're the one with the hang up. I understand that you've been through a lot and that you're scared.

Hell, I would be too, but from what you tell me, Boss is a good guy. And who cares that he's younger than you? Hell, a movie and a little oral sex never hurt nobody."

"Okay ... you have officially lost your mind. You have been hanging around Delicious a little too much. Besides, we into it anyway."

"What did you do?"

"Why you automatically assume I was the one who started it?" Mo quipped with an attitude.

"'Cause I know you. Now what did you do?"

"I ain't do nothing. He invited one of his lil' chicks up there to help wash cars while I was there."

"Okaaay, and?"

"What you mean and?" Mo replied, annoyed.

"If I remember correctly, y'all are just friends."

"That's not the point."

"Look, you either gon' fuck him or not. You're the one over there with a wet pussy and too afraid to put it to work.

You better let that lil' nigga put a hump in ya back and lift ya rump."

"Okay ... I'm done talkin'. 'Cause you have lost your fuckin' mind."

"Call me tomorrow,
gurl
!" Mina laughed, hanging up.

Mo smiled at her friend's silliness and peeled off her clothes one by one. After that, she turned on her surround-sound stereo system. Robin Thicke's mesmerizing, smooth voice whispered to her how he liked to be pleased as she turned on her rain shower head. Mo stood in the center of her Victorian shaped lion claw tub, allowing the warm rapid drops of water to massage her skin. The intoxicating smell of Ocean Mist shower gel filled the air as she lathered her body.

Soap bubbles covered her soft skin. The atmosphere was steamy and hot. Mo's eyes were closed as her mind drifted off to visions of Boss' face. She wished he was there to touch her.

Imagining that her slippery hand was his she ran it over her breasts and down her stomach, only to pause at the lips of her pussy.

Mo's right hand middle finger was directly at the tip of her clit, begging her to be brought to an orgasmic high, but instead of acting on impulse, she stopped herself and thought against it. Mo hadn't had an orgasm in months and she surely didn't want her hand to be the first one to give it to her.

After showering and washing her hair, Mo stepped out of the shower feeling clean and refreshed. Once she patted her body dry she coated her skin in Breathe Happiness body lotion.

Wrapped in a huge terry cloth towel, she made her way into the bedroom. Mo searched through her night clothes and found a camisole and a pair of gray knee-length leggings. Back downstairs in her living room, she plopped down onto the couch, covering her body in a brown cashmere blanket.

She needed to get Boss off her mind. Usually she would go somewhere and have a drink by herself, but the rain that poured heavily onto her window pane made her think twice about leaving the cozy apartment. Instead of going out, she decided to pop in a movie. "
ATL
" was the choice for the night, but after forty-five minutes of Rashad and New-New's constant flirting, she'd had enough.

The two love birds were sickening, and besides, seeing them make goo-goo eyes at each other only reminded her of the relationship she didn't have with Boss. With an attitude, she grabbed the remote and turned the television off. Mo only had the sound of her thoughts and the rain outside to keep her company as she lay troubled on the couch. Her heart and mind had waged war against one another with no clear winner in sight.

Don't call him, Mo. You're only going to make a fool out
of yourself,
her mind kept on saying. But with each second that passed, she only wanted to be near Boss even more. Mo hated being by herself. She craved companionship. She needed to hear his voice. They needed to make up so she could sleep that night without feeling the jarring pang in her.

Mo realized she had no right to be upset about him talking to Neisha. He wasn't her man. They were just friends, and besides, she was the one who had made up all the rules. How could she possibly get mad because he was following them?

Just call him and apologize,
her heart begged, so she did, but after five rings, Boss hadn't picked up. Mo hung up, feeling like an absolute fool.
I told you
, her mind said.
What if I fucked up and he doesn't want to talk to me anymore?
she thought, gazing at the clock. It was going on nine.
He's probably wit Neisha.

Mo tried to push the jealous thoughts out of her mind.

She tried replacing her feelings with other thoughts, but memories of all the moments they'd shared just came flooding back. The ticking from the clock didn't help either. It was driving her insane.

She felt sick. The pain in the pit of her stomach was just too much to bear. The rain outside only intensified her emotions. No matter which way she lay, she felt uncomfortable.

Mo ran her fingers through her hair and tried her best not to scream. She didn't like the fact that she cared about whether he answered or not.

She hated feeling this way, but Mo had no one to blame but herself for her unsettled feelings. She was the one who had built the rift between her and Boss, not him. Nothing in her life would be right until she spoke to him again. Mo wanted Boss to keep her safe. She wanted him to kiss all her doubts away. She didn't want to be alone by herself that night. Just as Mo started to go even more stir crazy, her phone began to ring.

"Hello," she answered quickly on the first ring.

"You called?" Boss asked, sounding impatient.

"Yeah."

"What's up?"

"Umm ... I just called to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overreact like that," she whispered nervously, slightly holding her breath.

"A'ight."

Hurt, Mo held the phone for a minute.

"Is that all you have to say?" she questioned.

"I don't know, ma, you tell me. Should I have more to say?" he barked with an attitude.

"Look, I ain't even call you for all that."

"Just open the door, man."

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"I'm at the door. Come open it."

"Alright." She pressed end and leaped from the couch.

After checking her face in the mirror and fixing her hair and clothes, Mo walked over to the door. She couldn't let Boss know that she had been stressing over him. Mo's heart was beating a mile a minute as she placed her hand on the knob and came face to face with the man she'd secretly adored for months. Boss was still dressed in his clothes from earlier but nevertheless, didn't look anything less than scrumptious.

"So what's poppin', ma? What's really the deal?" he asked with an angry expression on his face as he walked in with a gym bag in his hand.

"I told you I'm sorry. I had no right to get an attitude and leave," Mo replied as she closed the door.

"Nah, that ain't it, try again." He sat on the arm of her couch, admiring her body-hugging outfit.

"Try what again? It's nothing."

"The way you actin' it seem like more than nothing to me.

I mean, come on, ma, just keep it real. Let a nigga know what's up? Tell me what's in your heart."

"Why should I? You still gon' feel the same way you feel and I'm still gon' feel the same way I feel so it doesn't even matter."

"And how do you feel?"

"I feel like we're friends and that's all we should be," she shot, trying to protect her feelings from being hurt.

"A'ight, ma, whateva. You still wanna go to the show?" Boss said, fed up with going round and round.

"Yeah."

"Well I need to use your bathroom so I can take a shower."

"Upstairs and to your right." Mo pointed.

Mo changed into a white lace bra and slip then went into her walk-in closet in hopes of finding the perfect dress. She planned to be dressed by the time Boss made it out of the shower. She needed something cute and sexy but not over the top. After a little rummaging, she found the perfect outfit. It was a red YSL satin shirt dress. A red satin belt looped around the waist. She would accentuate the dress with gold acces- sories and pointed toe heels. But before she could grab the dress from out the closet, Boss called her name. Getting up to see what he wanted, she met up with him in the hallway.

"Ay, you got some lotion I can put on, and not none of that fruity shit y'all girls be wearing?" he asked, wrapping a towel around his defined waist. Mo tried to pretend that she hadn't caught a glimpse of his dick, but she had. It was big, brown, long and fat, just like she thought it would be.

"Umm, yeah," she turned her head to the side, a little embarrassed. "Just look in the closet or the medicine cabinet."

"A nigga tired, ma. I don't feel like lookin', come show me."

Mo took a deep breath and joined him in the bathroom.

Her bathroom wasn't that big, so the amount of space between the two of them was slim to none. As she stepped in front of him and reached into the closet, Mo became hypnotized by his golden-tan-and-chiseled physique. The sight before her was better than the visual in D'Angelo's "
Untitled (

How Does it Feel)
" video.

Boss' body was magnificent. He almost looked like a living piece of art. He had the Ken doll slits on each side of his waist.

Mo had to contract her pelvis muscles just so she wouldn't cum on herself.