Put A Ring On It (29 page)

“Nah, I’m good.”

“What do you mean, you’re good?”

Shawn paused for a long moment. “I’m good!” he insisted. “I’ve already moved on.”

“Meaning?” A blaze of hot jealousy had her nostrils flared and her chest heaving up and down.

“I’m with somebody,” he said emphatically.

“Already!” she screeched, losing her cool. That she’d been so quickly replaced left her feeling cheap, undesirable, and in significant. “You’re such a fucking whore, Shawn. Always have been. I don’t know why I let you back in my life. How can you hook with a new bitch in a matter of fucking days?”

“You finished cussing me out? Got it all out your system?” Shawn said calmly.

Vangie detected a trace of smugness in his tone that she found absolutely infuriating. “I didn’t get a damn thing out of my system. I’m just getting started.” She grabbed the flute and downed the rest of the champagne.

“Vangie,” Shawn said in a tone that was tinged with pity. “You sound like you’ve had too much to drink. Why don’t you call it a night and get some rest?”

“Why don’t you bite my ass?” she snarled.

“Aye, look. I don’t have time for this. I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me, Shawn.”

“Happy New Year,” he added and then hung up.

Hurt feelings took a back seat to furious indignation. And the desire for revenge. With one eye narrowed, Vangie shook her head, envisioning the many ways she planned to make Shawn’s life a living hell.

T
ickets to the 12 Midnight New Year’s Eve bash at the Crystal Tea Room were hard to come by. Expecting to ring in the New Year with Eric, Nivea had bought six months in advance. The party was advertised as a night to remember. So far, it was a night she hoped to forget. Here she was, inside the grand ballroom with its hand-carved columns and crystal chandeliers that acted as a backdrop to the gala event.

Mixed in with over twelve-hundred revellers atop the old Wanamaker building, Nivea was dressed to impress, wearing a stunning black sequinned mini-dress. Instead of flaunting her long shapely legs, she shrank in the background, fidgety and ill-at-ease as she waited impatiently for Knox to join her.

Knox swore that he was going to make it to the gala event. He said that he told Courtney that his study schedule was too intense for him to party that night, and she’d agreed to go out with friends while he stayed home and studied.

Hanging out at one of the specialty bars, Nivea craned her neck, looking for Knox. She was starting to feel panicky and wished he’d hurry up. She’d asked him to pick her up so they could arrive together, but he’d claimed that it was more convenient to meet her here.

He was supposed to arrive at nine, but it was now ten o’clock, goddamnit!
Where is he?

She pulled out her BlackBerry for the zillionth time and texted Knox. It seemed as though every happy couple that came up to
the bar looked at her pityingly. Their sympathetic looks were driving her to drink. “Another vodka,” she said to the bartender, slamming down her empty plastic cup.

Feeling conspicuous, she walked away from the bar and meandered over to one of the numerous buffet tables. There was a bountiful display of attractive cuisine, but she didn’t have an appetite. Needing to occupy her time, she inched along the long buffet line, allowing smiling servers to plop food on her plate.

Trying to stay occupied, Nivea had made numerous trips to the ladies room and she was getting disgusted, feeling hatred for Knox and all mankind.

By eleven o’clock, Nivea was blind with anger as she imagined Knox and Courtney enjoying drinks and celebrating together. She wondered what ploy Courtney had used to get Knox to sacrifice his studies. She downed another drink. Needing a refill, she approached the bar for another.

“You might wanna lay off the hard stuff for a while,” the well-meaning bartender suggested.

“You might wanna fuck off,” she said sneeringly and then staggered over to another bar that was a few feet away. She was surrounded by over a thousand people, but they were all total strangers. Nivea had never felt so alone, or more in need of a friend.

“Absolut,” she said, making sure that she didn’t slur the word. If this bartender tried to cut her off, there was a strong possibility that she would get rowdy.

He offered her a friendly smile, which she interpreted as flirtation. She looked him over and decided she liked what she saw: medium height, the angles of his face were nice, and his eyes were a luminous baby blue. Though skinnier than she preferred, he had a certain male sensuality that stirred something inside her.

“Happy New Year,” she said seductively.

“Same to you,” he replied with another friendly smile. “How come you’re not wearing a party hat?”

Nivea shrugged. “Didn’t want to ruin my ’do.” She fluttered her eyelashes, and patted her hair enticingly.

The bartender looked at her with a baffled expression. He gave Nivea her drink and then beckoned forward the next patron in line.

Nivea moved out of the way, but lingered to the side. Giving the bartender a furtive glance, she decided that his lean physique was actually kind of sexy. He was a cute white boy. Blond spiked hair. Two earrings glittered in his lobes. Visible tats on his neck, and probably more hidden beneath the suit he was wearing. Urban, with a touch of thug—like his name should have been Slim Shady.

When the crowd thinned, Nivea approached again. “Do you take breaks?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“How do you relieve yourself? Is there a urinal behind the bar?” she wisecracked, which brought a chuckle out of Slim Shady.

“I’m working for tips, so I try to hang back here as long as I can,” he said, laughing. His laughter held a rich, masculine sound, which aroused Nivea.

She’d noticed that there were only ones and fives in his tip cup. She checked her BlackBerry one last time to see if Knox had texted her, but there wasn’t one word from the lying creep.

Frugal by nature, Nivea hated to part with her money, but desperate times…She slid two fifties from her wallet and pushed them in the cup. “Why don’t you take a break?”

Taken aback, he asked, “What are you getting at?”

“I’m trying to have a good time with you, and I don’t mind
paying.” She smiled alluringly. Nivea was the kind of drunk whose mood could switch from mean to amorous in seconds. Right now, she desired the attention of a man. And any man would do under the circumstances. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she considered it ominous to bring in the New Year alone. And she wanted to get even with Knox.

“I guess I could use a smoke.”

“Ready when you are,” she said.

“Why don’t you wait for me over there by the exit sign?” he said, pointing.

“Sure, but don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Leaning against a column, Nivea checked her messages. Nothing! She felt justified in luring the bartender to…Hell if she knew where she was going to lure him. Her car? She shrugged, deciding to play it by ear.

Nivea’s mind wandered back to Knox. Clearly, it was time to move on.

While absorbed in thought, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. “This way,” the bartender whispered, steering her down a corridor, away from the noisy crowd.

“Where’re we going?”

“The break room.”

“I guess that’s better than the backseat of my car.”

The bartender smiled and kept moving. He definitely had some swag, his long legs moving in a confident glide.

The break room was a dreary place. Small and stuffy. There were only a couple of uncomfortable looking chairs, and a scratched-up wooden table.

Nivea disregarded the appearance of the room and turned her gaze on the bartender. “Do you have a name, Slim Shady?”

He chuckled at the nickname. “You can call me Slim.”

He didn’t ask her name, and Nivea didn’t volunteer the information. Her tongue felt too thick and lazy to take on the task of forming any more words, so she used her eyes to talk dirty.

Acknowledging that he understood her language, the bartender moved in closely, trapping her in a corner as he groped her body. Breathing fast and hard, he slid his hand under her dress. “You got some pussy for me?” he whispered fiercely, forcing his tongue between her teeth before she could answer.

Nivea was excited by the way Slim Shady was taking control. His kiss was fiery. His hands moved urgently over her body. He pulled the stretchy fabric of her dress down past her shoulders, and expertly removed her bra. He cupped her breasts in his palms as if weighing them, and then clenched each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling until the flesh swelled into an aching knot.

She dropped her head back, moaning as Slim drew a plump nipple in his mouth. Nivea wrapped her hands around him, pulling him so close, her breast smashed against his face. Slim worked on the right breast and then the left. Nivea groaned in delight as he sucked and savaged her nipples like they were ripened fruit.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” he whispered. “Suck my dick and then I’ll take care of you.”

Slim undid his pants, and let them fall around his ankles. His body was like a canvas, tight and taut and splattered with beautiful body art. Nivea caressed the tattoos, wishing she had enough time to outline each tat with the tip of her tongue. “Get on it,” he said in a rumbling voice.

She shivered with excitement, and sank to her knees. She couldn’t resist stroking the blond hair that curled above his groin. She
fondled his dick, enjoying the warmth and the heaviness of his thick erection. Fingernails digging into his hipbone, she pulled him into her mouth, taking him as deeply as she could.

“Make me cum,” he demanded.

She didn’t want him to cum, but his dick felt so good inside her mouth, tasted so juicy and flavourful, like she was sucking on brined meat. She sucked hard, her tongue swirling against his hot and sensitive flesh.

Slim gripped a handful of her hair, keeping her head in place as he pumped dick inside her mouth, delivering long strokes that made her eyes water. Impaled by the dick that was embedded in her throat, Nivea could no longer work her jaws or pucker her lips around his juicy meat. With her mouth wide open, and her eyes bulged, Nivea was helpless to stop him from mercilessly driving dick down her throat.

With an agonized cry, Slim discharged a blast of salty, masculine flavor that overflowed, spilling out the sides of Nivea’s mouth.

Before she could swallow, catch her breath, or wipe her mouth, Slim was clumsily guiding her to a lumpy chair. Walking with pants around his ankles took away some of his swagger. But as soon as he sat down and positioned Nivea onto his saliva-slick pole, he was back in control.

The door opened suddenly. Nivea jumped. “Oh, that’s Ryan. He came to join in. I hope that’s okay with you.”

Nivea’s head jerked in the direction of the door. Sauntering into the room was the bartender who’d cut off her vodka. Her mouth curled in anger, and almost yelled for him to get the fuck out. But he stepped behind her, reached around and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them gently until Nivea purred.

“This is so freaky,” she said breathlessly.

“Let Ryan get some of this,” Slim suggested.

Nivea nodded. She gasped as Ryan’s hand went lower, his fingertip lightly stroking her extended clit while Slim, groaning and undulating, filled up the plush depths of her pussy lining.

“It’s your turn, Ryan,” Slim said, taking panting breaths.

Nivea felt herself being lifted from Slim’s softening manhood. Gasping for breath, Slim rose from the chair.

Ryan unzipped and pulled down his pants. Pants hanging over his waist, he took Slim’s place in the chair. Ryan jostled her about, reversing her position.

Nivea closed her eyes in ecstasy as Ryan, taking his firm dick in hand, inserted it between her slick folds. It gave her a rush to feel his length pushing inside walls that were soaked with another man’s lust.

Ryan groaned as he thrust deeply, sloshing through cum-sodden territory.

What they were doing was depraved. It was animalistic. Nivea cried out, loving every second of the wanton debauchery. She squeezed her own breasts and pinched her nipples as she pushed back, her hips circling wildly. Squishy sounds from her pussy echoed loudly, taking Nivea to an extreme level of decadent pleasure.

She couldn’t hold back the squeals of passion. As if pulled by a mating call, Slim appeared before her. His eyelids heavy, his mouth slack, he placed the heel of one hand on Nivea’s forehead, the other hand held his throbbing dick. He parted her lips with the smooth, hot crown.

There was a dick in her mouth and another in her pussy. Getting fucked by two hot white boys was truly amazing. A roaring sound in her ears and tingling flesh announced that an orgasm was near. Her climax coincided with fireworks and an explosion of champagne bottles popping off.

It was the best New Year’s Eve ever!

T
he disheveled woman waited in the shadows. She staked out the hoity toity restaurant from a distance. Fidgety and impatient, she craned her neck to see if any patrons had come out.
It’s cold as a bitch out here. I hope I don’t have to be waiting past midnight.

Her irritation increased as she imagined the prosperous diners.
Rich people get on my goddamn nerves. They don’t care about nobody but their own greedy selves. Bitches and bastards in there chattin’ and chillin’, thinking about what they gon’ eat for dessert while I’m out here freezin’ my ass off. Those fools need to eat their food and go celebrate New Year’s Eve somewhere that has a DJ and a dance floor. Taking their time, eating all slow. I got money to make. Goddamn! Come on, y’all!

A sudden gust of wind sent a chill straight to her bones. Angrily, she gave her coat a hard yank, pulling it tightly around her chubby body. She felt the thread loosening on the only button that was left on her ragged coat.

“Shit!” she muttered as she ripped off the useless button and tossed it over her shoulder in disgust. She paced impatiently, her scarred hands holding the shabby coat together. She clutched a worn Bible to her chest. Her ratty wig, which always seemed askew, served as a hat, keeping her keloid-scarred scalp warm. With her eyes fixed on the entrance, she was prepared to shuffle up to the first prospect that exited the upscale restaurant.