The Sweetest Taboo (22 page)

Yuri

         “Why are you buggin’?” Britt asked Yuri as he slipped on black, tailored Gucci dress pants, a crisp white button-up, platinum cuff links and onyx square-toe crocs. His matching suit jacket lay on the bathroom vanity.

Sony Music, the company Britt was signed with, was having a CD-release party for one of their new artists and was also celebrating Britt’s new reggae and soca imprint.

“Oh now I’m buggin’?” Yuri sucked her teeth. “I’ve seen the same number on the caller ID for the last week, seven days in a row, at some real funny fuckin’ hours.” She stood at the vanity, puckered her lips and applied MAC lipstick and liner. “Don’t start no shit, Britt.” She stood up straight, dabbed Angel perfume in her cleavage, and ran her hands along the sides of her cream Versace tube-top dress, which clung to every one of her voluptuous curves like a magnet. “Understood?”

Instead of responding, Britt tapped her on the ass.

“I take it it’s understood.” Yuri slipped her yellow diamond studs in each ear, then sat down on the closed toilet lid, held her foot up and handed Britt the rhinestone Manolos he’d bought her. He placed her feet respectively on each pant leg, slipped her shoes on and buckled them around the ankles.

“Now,” she said, “we’re ready to go.”

Britt checked his dreads, which were styled with a series of single cornrows in the front and hanging loose in the back. “What was up with those grandma drawls you had hanging up there yesterday?” He playfully mushed her on the side of her head. “I already told you we don’t wear drawls around here.”

“You so retarded,” she laughed. “For your information, I was doing laundry. Didn’t you notice your clothes had been washed…and the loft had been cleaned?”

“Yeah, I noticed you were performing your wifely duties.”

“Yeah, niggah, I better be the wife and you better tell that ho who keeps calling your phone the same thing before I slide her ass.”

“There you go tryna slide somebody. Don’t be tryna take the conversation off them big-ass drawls. Who you sleeping next to in them?”

“Yo’ ass. I wear them when I’m on my period and it’s due to come any day—”

“It ain’t come yet?” he cut her off. “According to my calculations it shoulda been here Tuesday…of last week.”

“You keeping up with my cycle?”

“Hell, yeah. I’m not playing with you; as much as I be nuttin’ up in yo’ ass, I’m taking no chances.”

“It’s only a few days late.”

“You better tell that niggah he got a curfew.”

“Whatever.” She picked up his socks and jeans from the bathroom floor. “Find a hamper for these, please.”

“I wasn’t finished with them.”

“Stop lying.” She laughed. “Yo’ ass was gon’ leave ’em right on the floor like you always do.”

“You love me, don’t you?” He grabbed her by the waist and turned her toward him.

“Yeah, too damn much.”

“This all me, baby?” He ran his hands along the sides of her body.

“Yes, Britt, that’s all you.”

“That’s what I thought, now give me a kiss.” As they began to kiss passionately, flicking their tongues in and out of each other’s mouth, Britt’s cell phone went off. Ending their kiss, he looked at the number on the phone. Instead of answering he sent the call to voice mail.

“Now gimme some more.” He pinned her against the wall, placed his hands under her dress and moved the seat of her panties over. As he slid two fingers into her silkiness his phone rang again. “Shit!”

“Don’t answer it,” she said, unbuttoning the shirt he’d just put on.

“No, I can’t do that. All kind of people call on my phone; it could be my manager, anybody.”

“You need to get you a business line.”

“You right, baby,” he said looking at the caller ID and sending the call to voice mail again. Before he could place the phone down, it rang once more.

“Okay,” Yuri said, pissed, “who the fuck is that, Britt?”

“Nobody.”

She took a step back. “You lying to me now? That’s how we do? You want me to lie to you?”

“I wish you would fuckin’ lie to me….”

“A’ight then, who was that?”

“It was Troi.”

She hoped he didn’t see her heart skipping beats. “What?” she said as calmly as possible.

“Just listen. You know…when you were still with Jeff, me and Troi would kick it…from time to time, mostly about business, her marriage and that’s it.”

“Oh, now you admit you talked about more than business.”

“If you gon’ start accusing me, then I may as well let you tell me the story.”

“Go ahead.” She swallowed.

“Ever since you moved in, I deaded it.”

“Before or after you fucked her?”

“She was getting divorced and having some problems.”

“
Before
or
after
you fucked her?!”

“Yuri—”

Her heart stopped beating. “Just fuckin’ tell me!”

“Goddamn.” He attempted a smile. “You ’bout to slice me?”

“I am not…fuckin’ playing with you.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

He was instantly aggravated. “Because that’s what I just told you.”

“And that’s good enough?” She sucked her teeth.

“Hold it.” He stopped dead in his tracks. “Let me check you for a minute. You were fuckin’ married, Yuri. Matter fact, you still married and you was straight-up living with this niggah. When I asked you to leave the motherfucker, you played me the fuck crazy, went home and laid up in the niggah’s face. So, quite frankly, it could be Kim goddamn Porter I fucked and you will never have a right to ask or accuse me of fuckin’ anybody. As long as you was playin’ wife to that motherfucker, knowing you was loving me, anything that went on over here was fair goddamn game. Now get that shit in order.”

“Was all that called for? You acting like you had some pent-up resentment and shit. Or am I mistaken, and you just going hard for that bitch? Let me know, so I can step.”

“Oh, here we go. That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“Then, why you telling me now?!”

“I was being honest.”

“Whatever.” As she began checking her face in the mirror, she had a flash of him fucking Troi. “Did you fuck that bitch?” She turned to him.

“No,” he said with conviction. “I said I deaded the situation. If I speak to her now, it’s about business. She’s an entertainment attorney for the record company, so occasionally I run into her. But it’s nothing.”

“Look,” Yuri said as she popped her lips, “maybe I need to bounce while there are no hard feelings. I remember that Troi shit and I’m not going back through it. Maybe Drae was right when she said if you leave who you love for who you screw, who you screw will leave you for the one they love.”

“What the fuck is that?” He frowned. “Poetry? And I told you about telling me some ole ridiculous shit somebody said. I don’t wanna hear it. ’Cause as soon as you turn your back that bitch’ll be in my face.”

“You sayin’ Drae tryna get with you?”

“I’m sayin’ Drae need to mind her fuckin’ business and stay outta mine. And stop discussing us and what we do! ’Cause leaving me is nowhere in the game. So try something else. Now, if it’ll make you feel better, when and if I run into Troi I’ll ask her not to call me again. And to direct anything she needs from me to my manager.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Straight?”

“Straight,” she conceded.

“Now can I laugh?”

“At what?”

“At you, you had a look like you was ’bout to kick my goddamn ass.” He fell out. “My baby straight gangsta wit’ it.”

“Whatever. Just know I haven’t forgotten how much you used to love that bitch. ’Cause if my memory serves me correctly, had she not said no, you was ’bout to marry her fuckin’ ass.”

“My baby jealous?” He pulled her by the waist and buried his head in her breast. Kissing her cleavage, he said, “Don’t sweat that shit. When I stop coming home, then you worry.”

“The day you stop coming home is the day I’m leaving.”

“That’s the second time you said something about leaving. Let’s just squash this Troi talk and this leaving bullshit, a’ight?” She could tell he’d caught a slight attitude because the vein in his neck started to stick out. “’Cause as soon as you try to get with another niggah I’ma fuck all y’all up.”

“Awl, look at my daddy.” Yuri kissed the thumping vein on his neck. “Mami sorry. What, daddy need to feel better?” She started sucking his bottom lip and feeling the imprint of his dick.

“I don’t know.” He pouted. “I ain’t sure.”

“Uhmmm, daddy dick hard.” She stuck her hands in through the slit of his pants and played with it. “Daddy, it’s soooo big. It’s swelling, daddy….”

“What you gon’ do about it…to make the swelling go down?”

“I’ma ride it out.”

“You gon’ mess up your dress.”

“Not if you take it offa me.”

Britt glanced at the clock, hating to break up their act, then said, “I’ma be late, baby.”

“Oh, you gon’ be late?” She stepped out of her dress. “So you mean to tell me,” she said as she lay down on the cool tile floor, the chill of it giving her back goose bumps, “you gon’ leave all this pretty”—she opened her legs as wide as she could, moved the seat of her thong to the side, and with each word she spoke she dipped her fingers in her pussy and sucked it off—“you gon’ leave this hot, pink, dripping wet pussy all by itself: no kisses, no dick, nothing. You just gon’ drag it to a party?”

Britt unbuttoned his shirt and hung it over the bathroom door. “Mami know she wrong.” He slipped his pants and boxers off. “She know that pussy is my weakness.”

Britt lay between Yuri’s legs and sucked her clit through the seat of her panties, causing her to cum so hard that the juice soaked through her thong and filled his mouth. After, he pulled her thong off, turned her over doggy style and slid his dick in. She cocked her neck to the side and watched him stake claim in her pussy. “Whose pussy is this?” He stroked.

“Uhmmm, I can’t remember.”

“Oh, you can’t remember?”

“You gon’ give it to me good, daddy. You gon’ make me remember?”

“You know I’ma punish you.”

With each hard and forceful stroke he slapped her on the ass. “You remember now, huh? You remember now?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

He slapped her on the ass and pounded into her, “Say it again.”

“I’m sorry.” She could feel her nut stirring.

“You ain’t sorry.” He rammed his long pipe into her, causing her nut to run like a marathon over his dick. “And now you nuttin’ on my dick.”

“There I go again, daddy, being bad. I’m sorry.”

“Prove it.”

Yuri turned around and started licking the tip of Britt’s dick. As soon as she got into a groove where she began swirling her tongue around it, he took it out of her mouth, and teased her across the lips with it, making her desire it more. As she inched up closer to suck it again, he let her tongue stroke it a few moments more before he slipped it back out of her mouth. “You not playing fair,” she said as he ran it across her lips. “Let me suck it.” He grabbed the back of her hair, guided her mouth to his dick and finally allowed her to deep throat it. “See, I’m not so bad, daddy.”

He caressed the back of her neck as his nut shot out. “You ain’t bad, baby, you just fuckin’ right.”

Two hours later, Britt’s cell phone was ringing off the hook. “Shit, baby”—he looked at his caller ID as he helped her from the floor—“my manager done called me fifty fuckin’ times. Come on, let’s go. The limo should be downstairs!”

Yuri and Britt practically washed and dressed each other. He helped her slip on her dress and made sure her breasts were situated with pasties correctly, while she buttoned his shirt, zipped his pants, tightened his belt, made sure his jacket was laid just right and snapped his cuff links.

He gave her a peck on the lips. “You look good, baby.”

“Thank you.” She smudged the corners of his mouth with her thumb. “And you do too.”

By the time they got to the party it was already jumping. There was music from the new reggae artist blasting. Dom and caviar were floating around the room on the shoulders of white-gloved butlers. The main course of steamed lobster tail was due to be served at any minute. Everyone who was anyone in the music business was in the place. From the likes of Jay-Z, Lauryn Hill, Stephen and Ziggy Marley, Mary J. Blige, Baby Cham and Sean Paul.