In the Mix (2 page)

“What?” I ask a little confused but then I realize what he’s referring to. “Oh, that’s easy. It’s dickhead!” I hit him with a delayed, yet witty comeback. He’s quiet for a while. “Dude? You there?”

“Yeah. Sorry. So, I’ll text you the time and place.”

“Thanks, man! Later!” I say then hang up. I settle in to studying her timeline.

Oh yeah, I want her.

No. I’m not being a creep.

Really? She just had my balls in her hand!

That’s what I thought.

*Smirk*

Carry on . . .

Ever have a nosy neighbor? Maybe a family member? Somebody who was always in your shit because they thought it smelled funny like, like—scandal?

I have several of those people in my life, but the most annoying one is my fucking mail lady.
Nosy bitch!

Here she comes, up my walkway with her fucking frizzed out
please don’t dye me again
red hair. I know what she has in her hand. She knows what she has in her hand.

So much for discreet shipping!

I open the door before she can embark on her annoying melody of ring, knock, ring—must be fucking OCD. “Mrs. Magee!” I say cheerfully with a slight hint of stink-eye.

“Carissa Catherine O’Brien?” She looks down at the package, asking.

She’s known me my entire life.

“Yes, Mrs. Magee, I haven’t gotten the sex change yet nor am I in the witness protection program.” My pleasantries can only last so long. She’s past my ten-second mark.

“You have a package here.” She darts a suspicious eye up at me.

“You don’t say?” I step out and look at it in her hands. “From whom?”

“It has no name of the company.” She clears her throat and adds a disapproving look.

Does she really think she’s going to embarrass me?
Me?

Bitch, puhlease!

“Ooh . . .” I widen my eyes. “Why, Mrs. Magee, I bet this is from that dildo company I order from!” I tap her hand excitedly.

Mrs. Magee shifts from foot to foot—a bit uncomfortable, I might add.

But no—that’s not enough for me!

“I’ve been waiting on this one!” I take the package. I lower my voice. “This is my new toosh-trainer anal vibrator.”

Mrs. Magee gasps.

“It’s the intermediate one. I’ll only have one more to go before I can finally take some nice cock up my ass. I’m so excited!” I bounce a little for emphasis.

Mrs. Magee places her hand over her heart and stammers over her words. “Hav . . . va . . . nice . . . d-day,” finally comes out before she heads down my stoop. She steps and turns. “Here’s the rest of your mail.” She hands me the stack. She then races (at an elderly pace) back to her mail van.

Some bitches be crazy, yo!

I definitely be one a dos bitches.

No. I’m white.

That was me, living the thug life for a sec.

I wave as Mrs. Magee pulls out of the driveway. She shakes her head at me and then heads to the next house. Well, that was fun . . .

I walk back in and glance at the clock on my cable box. I don’t have to be back at Bark Avenue for another hour. Hmm . . . what to do for an hour? I could clean.
Nope.
I could pay bills.
With what?
I really should just be the smart consumer that I am and test this bad boy out! Get it out of the way . . . off the list of things to do! “Yes!” I agree and kick off my sneakers as I head into my bedroom with my new “friend.”

I sit on my bed (still not made so like,
hello!
—tell me that’s not a sign!) and open the white package. My tongue licks my lips at the anticipation. This is supposed to be the
motha
of all vibrators! I am supposed to see stars and have a permanent smile on my face.

I slide it out of the package. “Now
this
is what I’m talking about!” I stare at it in all its magnificent glory. Purple silicone—soft to the touch. Yeah, I said purple. What? It’s my favorite color! Look at all of these settings! I reach into the package, grab the batteries they supply, (cuz’ there good like that, ya know?) and slip those puppies in. I hit the first button. “Holy shit!” This thing is gyrating in circles. I hit the arrow to up the tempo. My eyes grow wider. I hit it again. It’s off! No, I mean like . . . ride ’em cowboy! I hit the other button and the rabbit ears spring to life.

I may be a little scared.

All I can think of when I look at this silicone swinging meat is a rodeo. No! A rodeo bar where you get on that fake bull and have to try to stay on. You’re holding on with one hand. The other arm is up in the air, swinging around in a circle? That’s what my new vibrator is doing. It’s an arm, swinging around for balance. I turn it off and stare at it some more. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I think of this one-armed bastard swinging around inside of me like a disco ball at a party.

Ohhh . . . imma ‘bout to get my groove on . . .

I place it gently on the bed then proceed to tear my yoga pants down like there’s a gun at my head. I whip my top off and flop onto my back. “Ok, Ceese . . . who is the lucky guy today?” Marky Mark?
No. Although I’m sure I’ll get some ‘good vibrations’!
Kyle . . .
Shut up, Ceese!
Henry Cavill.
He is super, but no.

Damn the way he kissed me the other night!

Kyle it is! I close my eyes and think about the way he pinned me up against my door. He was in my face, all angry and sexy and . . . and . . .
fuck the way he smells!
I don’t even remember half the shit he was telling me. Something about how
when he knows what he wants, he goes after it until it’s his.
All I could do was stare at his lips, wondering when the fuck he was going to do something better with them, like kiss me. There was something else on my mind as my eyes took in the scruff on his face. Being the classy lady I am, I told him what was on my mind.
“This,”
I touched the stubble across the right side of his jawline,
“is going to feel so good rubbing against my pussy when you’re eating the fuck out of it.”
Yeah. I totally fucking said that! I couldn’t believe it, either. I mean, of course, I have no problem saying shit like that. Just not to guys like Kyle. Good guys that I don’t belong with.

What did he do? He smirked. He’s a smirker—that one. Then he eskimo kissed me. Yeah, weird, right? He softly kissed my eyelids then leaned in to my ear and said, “I don’t do one-night stands, beautiful.” He kissed my cheek and lingered there for a moment. Just when I thought he was pulling away, readying himself to leave, he palmed my face, and said, “One night could never be enough with you, so I’d like to leave you with something to think about. Something, I hope, will encourage you to consider a chance with me.” It was dark, but I could still see how crystal blue his eyes are. I just stared into them—cemented to the ground. His palms held my face with a bit more aggression and then . . . he laid the mother of all kisses on me.

Slowly, I let my hands travel up to my nipples. I roll and pull on them as I think about the way his tongue swirled around in my mouth. The way he sucked at my bottom lip and dove his tongue back in for more.

I hated it.

I hated every moment that I loved it!

Fuck!

I reach over and grab Purp. What? He’s purple and the way he moves around makes him a little suspect. You know what I mean?

I spread my legs and guide Purp down my center. Yup, no lube required this session! I thrust Purp inside quickly; encouraged by the memory of the way Kyle’s tongue plunged into my mouth.
Faaaaccck!
My overzealous movement now requires a moment of acclimation. Holy crap!
I wonder if Kyle has a big dick. Does it wiggle around like Purp does?

Shaking my thoughts away, I feel around Purp with my right hand trying to find the magic rodeo buttons.
Finally!
“You got eight seconds, Purp. I’m gonna time this shit!” The rabbit ears are working a good rhythm at my clit. It’s time to disco, do the hustle, shake my groove thing—whatever! Let’s see what this bad boy can
Holy . . . mother . . . of . . . God!!
“Oh hell fucking yeah!!”

Seven seconds flat.

You know what I’m talking about.

I may be whimpering a little as I come down from this. My toes are still curled almost as if they know just to stay that way cuz’ I ain’t done! I calm my breathing, gathering energy up for the next round. Everything is finally quiet in my head.

Then . . . I hear it.

Brzzzjrrr.

I close my legs a little.

Bbbrrzzzzjerrrrzzz.

And suddenly I feel like Betty Cocker (Yes, I said Cock-er), getting busy, mixing a cake in here. Why do they have to make these things so loud? I mean—
oh . . . oh, holy fuck of all fuckkkkerrrs! I’m not even holding it! Shhhhit! Yessss!

Ding!

Cake’s done!

I immediately turn Purp off; otherwise, I won’t be able to walk today! This thing is lethal!
I love it!

I barely walk through the door of my shop and the phone is already screaming at me. “Bark Avenue, this is CiCi, how can I help you?”

“Did you lose your fucking cell phone again?” Julie asks. Fuck, she sounds annoyed.

“No! I just don’t have it attached to my ass like some people I know. What’s the matter with you?” I glance down at my appointment book then up at the clock. This bitch has fifteen minutes for me to solve her problems.

“What’s the matter with me?” She does that sarcastic laugh that makes me want to throat punch her. I’m not really a violent person—just pms-ing. “Let’s see!” Oh boy. “My best friend, who tells me
everything,
forgets to mention a certain rich, hot-as-fuck, CEO-type dude she’s met. Same dude who ruffled her feathers so much, I’ve barely heard from her in three weeks since said event!”

“Dude,” I sigh.

“What?”

“I talked to you yesterday.”

“So?”

“I have hung out with you just about every other day!” Bitch just lost ten minutes! I’m not in the mood for this shit.

“So?”

“So . . . what the fuck are you talking about?” I throw my free hand out before using it to shove the swinging door open to my back room.

“Just because you are here doesn’t mean you are fucking present. What is going on with you? What happened?” Her tone dials it up a notch.

“Julie, I can’t do this right now. I have a client coming in any minute.” I grab the shampoo bottles.

“It’s a dog—not a client!” she yells.

“Dogs are my clients and they’re people, too. Stop acting like they don’t matter.” I grab the brushes.

“They are
dogs,
you Asswhore—not humans!”

“You know what I mean.” Nobody ever understands the way I feel about animals. They don’t suck. People suck. Well, except for Buddy, that dog sucks—the life out of me!

“Whatever. We’re going for drinks tonight and I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth or so help me God . . .”

“Ok, Judge Judy. Now will you shut the fuck up and let me get to work?” I head back out to the front as I hear the bell.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m only doing this because I love you,” she claims.

“You’re only doing this because you’re a nosy bitch,” I say quietly and wave to my customer. “And I love you, too. Bye, bitch!”

“Bye!” she says in her usual carefree tone. I hang up. She thinks she’s won, but there is no way in hell that I’m going to talk to her about Kyle. No way! I’ve been dodging that bullet for three weeks now and I will not cave in. This phone call, though, only tells me that Julie has hit level two of being a pain in the ass about it. I’ll need to step up my game.

“Hey, CiCi, I hope you didn’t get off the phone on my account.” Addie smiles as she puts Pearl up on the counter. Pearl is a two year-old Pug and she’s just, well . . . a pearl!

“Oh, no, not at all. You actually saved me from my meddling best friend.” I say with a sigh of relief. “Hello there, Miss Pearl. Are you all ready to get the royal treatment?” I lift her into my arms. She answers with an assertive licking of my face.