Rich sighed.
Danella. Here she comes with her bullshit.
“It's not nice to hang up on people,” she said, stopping in from of Rich and smiling. “Especially someone who loves you.”
“Love can make people do crazy things, and for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction.”
Danella smiled. “The laws of physics according to Sir Isaac Newton. Your intellect has
always been a turn on for me. You're so much more than the average guy from the 'hood.”
“So much more than you deserve.” Rich chuckled. “Baby, it's the type of bourgeois shit
you just said that's stoppin' you from staking your claim in the wonderful world of Rich.”
“You don't really mean that.”
“Baby, Rich always mean what he say.” He walked away without another word.
“Richhh!” Danella screamed over the music in the club and slammed her champagne glass on the floor.
Rich turned around, spotting the crowd of people gathering to watch Danella's antics.
“Who the fuck do you think you are!” she yelled, storming toward Rich.
After a few steps, a bouncer snatched her. Her legs were swinging wildly, as the huge
bouncer picked her off her feet with one arm while she screamed every curse word imaginable.
The bouncer, who had known Rich for years, turned to him and said, “What do you want me to do with her?”
“I think she's had too much to drink and she's ready to go home.”
The bouncer nodded at Rich, then carried Danella off toward the front door.
Rich noticed the looks in the eyes of the people who crowded the scene. Some foreign
eyes projected disgust for Rich. Familiar eyes displayed astonishment. Rich assumed these
people, who knew his status, expected more of a man with such a smooth demeanor and
reputation that prevented people from challenging him. Rich now questioned whether Danella
had left a chink in his armor. Although he had not overreacted to the situation, people were
aware that he had a situation. That in itself was a problem for a discrete man who had mastered the art of keeping his personal life private. Danella's status as a famous model increased the probability of Rich's problem being publicized.
This shit ain't good. I can't have no freaks playin' me in public.
Rich neared the VIP area, surprised to see the women from Candy's Shop. While he watched Leah filling glasses with champagne, he recalled that days earlier in the shop
he had heard Leah mention that she was treating the women to a ladies’ night out. The women
were seated with Chase and Free on a large U-shaped couch that surrounded a table. Rich gazed
at Candy.
Perfectly good piece of pussy going to waste.
She was sitting beside Vanessa. But she
always stood out, because she was tall. Even in the dim VIP lounge, her long yellow legs seemed to light up the area.
“What's up, Rich?” the VIP bouncer asked.
“My stock, hopefully.” Rich gave the short Dominican man in front of him a pound. Rich
flashed his VIP pass. The man removed the velvet rope, allowing Rich admittance to the large area.
He walked toward Vanessa, who was seated closest to him. He adjusted his tie, a little nervous that his bathroom fling minutes earlier may be visible from his disorderly clothes.
“Hi, Rich,” Vanessa greeted him with a smile.
“Can you please stand up for a second?” Rich gently
grabbed her hand, helping her up. “Umph, umph, umph. You looked so good sitting down, I just needed to see you in totality.”
Vanessa giggled. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” Rich kissed her hand and then sat her down. He greeted everyone else, before sitting next to Vanessa. He placed the bucket of ice and champagne on the table, before filling an empty glass.
“Yo, Rich, how was that?” Chase asked with a smirk, obviously referring to Rich's fling with the woman.
“Yeah, what's up?” Free added.
“In and out,” Rich responded. “Just an appetizer. I'm waiting on the main course.” He nodded discretely toward Vanessa, who was talking to Candy.
“I hear you.” Chase flashed a smile.
Rich grabbed a bottle of champagne and turned to Vanessa and
Candy and then offered them some. Candy grabbed a flute and Rich filled her glass. “How 'bout you, Vanessa?”
She smiled. “No thank you.”
“You sure?”
“I don't drink.”
“Oh, excuse me. Didn't mean to infringe,” Rich said.
“Not a problem.”
As Free sparked up a conversation with Candy, Rich made his move on Vanessa. “You
mind if I inquire why you don't drink?”
Vanessa told Rich about the health problems that plagued her family, including her
mother's death. She mentioned her vegan diet and interest in nutrition. She said she also tried to live as simple as possible, and that drinking champagne was bit extravagant for her.
“You're making me think over here, Vanessa.” Rich leaned back.
“A little food for thought is always good.”
“Yesss, feed me, baby. I'm hungry. Give me some of that vegetarian food for thought.” He laughed.
Vanessa laughed too. “You're crazy.”
“That may be a good thing. We got a lot of sane people that got us into a recession, two
wars, you name it.” The look in Vanessa's eyes told Rich that she was impressed and surprised
to hear him speak on such topics. He was almost certain that her mind had been molded in the
shop to see him as an ignorant womanizing criminal. So he started building off of her “crazy”
comment. He talked about the dynamics of Barack Obama being President, while only two of the
100 U.S. Senators were black. He expounded on his view that hip hop had helped race relations,
because white children were embracing the hip hop culture, which is predominantly a black
culture. He even added on to Vanessa mentioning health, noting that childhood obesity was at an all-time high. He expressed that children were glued to their seats playing video games and that the hormones and steroids pumped into food were adversely affecting their growth.
“So how do you change the world, Rich?” Vanessa asked.
“It starts with self. That's why I'm always growing mentally.” He paused and leaned forward. “But you know what I really
need?”
“What?”
“You.” He gently grabbed her hand. “I need you to help me grow.”
Vanessa blushed. “Me? You're sure about that?”
“Malcolm had Betty. Martin had Coretta. Barack got Michelle. Shit, even Jay got Beyonce.”
Vanessa giggled.
“You know the cliché, 'behind every strong man is a strong woman.”
“I'm sure you got enough of those.”
“Not at all.”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“You can't answer a question with a question.”
Rich grinned. “According to who?”
“Vanessa Denay.”
“Okay, Ms. Thang. I'll play by your rules.”
“That's good, because I feel I deserve an answer.” Vanessa looked into his eyes with a slightly seductive stare.
“How 'bout I answer with this.” He slowly leaned toward Vanessa and kissed her. His
tongue swirled around her mouth just a second, enough time to leave a smile on her face and shock on the faces of the rest of the group.
“Ohhh, shit,” Meisha blurted, covering her open mouth with her hand.
Rich looked around, noticing that Leah was smiling too. Then he saw hate in Chanel's
hazel eyes. He imagined that she was wishing it was her
mouth that his tongue had just probed. He expected her anger and jealousy. But the
disappointment in Candy's eyes startled Rich. He was sure Candy was upset that Vanessa was
falling for him. With that in mind, he was motivated to treat Vanessa like a queen, just to prove
Candy’s view of him wrong. But that was just one thought within the mind of a man who saw all women as nothing more than objects of his lustful desires.
* * *
After spending hours in the club talking and dancing with Vanessa, Rich was zooming
down the FDR Drive with one hand on the wheel of his BMW and his other hand planted deep
within Vanessa's 'fro, as she slurped all ten inches of his rock-hard dick. She massaged the shaft,
while her lips and tongue worked the head. She was taking Rich to a new level. He could feel his
entire body radiating.
Vanessa began gently rubbing Rich's balls. She looked up at him. “You like that, right?”
Rich nodded, peeping at her, but trying to keep his eyes on the dark expressway ahead of
him, while keeping his foot steady.
Vanessa ran her tongue around the head of his dick, and then
down and up the length of
his shaft. “Yeah, I know you like it.” She went back at it.
Rich's foot went down on the gas. “Damn, girl.” Before he knew it, he was pushing 90 in the Beamer and sirens were flashing behind him. “Fuck!” he barked.
Vanessa looked up. “Oh, shit.”
Rich pressed down on the gas more, passing 100. He grabbed Vanessa's head. She went back to work. Rich zipped pass a Suburban and cut in front of a Porsche. It was almost 3:00 a.m.,
so the road was relatively clear. The dial on the Beamer read 115 and that was the end of the cops
behind him.
“Damn,” Rich moaned. He slowed the car and turned off the FDR at 96
th
Street. As he headed up the street's steep hill, he climaxed. Vanessa had sucked him dry.
“How was that?” she asked, leaning back in her seat.
“I'm speechless.” Rich had experienced some wild oral adventures, but none like what had just taken place with Vanessa
. Her sexual expertise surpassed his expectations. That, coupled with the high-speed
chase, gave him an adrenalin rush that drove him over the top. There was still plenty of time left, and he was eager to see what else Vanessa was capable of.
***
Rich and Vanessa raced to undress as they stepped through the door of his penthouse.
Clothes dropped on the Persian rug and the chairs, tables and the loveseat in his living room. The
couple ended up on the terrace that overlooked Central Park.
Vanessa's body was bare and the only thing on Rich was a condom. Vanessa's back was pinned against the huge glass sliding door that separated the terrace from the spacious living room. Rich
was determined to outdo Vanessa's raceway episode. He felt challenged by her prowess. He
needed to prove that he had more sexual skills than she did. That meant more than a quickie. He had to give her the balance between love and raw sex.
Rich sucked on her neck, making his way down to her breasts. They were barely a handful, a perfect fit for his mouth. Back and forth, he worked her erect nipples in between taking in mouthfuls of her entire breast.
“That feels so go, Rich,” Vanessa whispered.
Rich slipped his finger inside of her, pulling at her g-spot with the 'come here' motion.
“Rich.” Her body tensed. “Please,” she moaned. “You don't know what you're doing to me.” Her body began squirming in between Rich's grip. “It feels so good.”
Rich lowered his head and applied just the right amount of pressure to her clit with his tongue, while still fingering her.
Vanessa hoisted her leg over Rich's shoulder. She grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into her as she came and her body went limp.
Once Vanessa regained her poise, Rich walked her to the ledge of the terrace. He took a
few pillows from the nearby couch and situated them on the floor. “Get down there,” he ordered and Vanessa complied. “Grab the gate.”
As she clutched both hands on the three foot high gate on the ledge, Rich gripped his dick, standing over her. He salivated over her small naked frame,
as she kneeled on the pillows. He eased down behind her on the last pillow and began hitting her
doggy style.
Her back arched and she leaned forward, before screaming, “God, Rich.”
Rich started a slow rhythm. His firm hands gripped her waist, as they both stared over the twenty-one stories down to Central Park. “How that feel?” he said, grunting.
“It hurts so good,” she cried.
Rich sped up a bit, stroking from an angle.
“Yeah, you're working it.”
He looked down at her pint-sized body, amazed that she could produce so much pleasure.
He could feel her love muscle pulling him deeper into her as she rocked back into his strokes. He could feel himself going deeper and deeper into her wetness.
“Yeah, Rich. You're fucking me right!” she screamed.
He began plunging harder.
“Come on, dick me down!”
He grabbed her tighter and rammed harder.
“Harder, Rich!”
He plunged in and out. Her body bounced back and forth, her pussy tightening, becoming wetter and more sensational for Rich. “Damn, girl. Shit,” he blurted.
“Harder,” she begged. “You gotta fuck me harder!”
This little broad is wild. Straight freak.
Rich strained his dick with each stroke.
“Yes, like that, Rich. Yes. Yes. I'm coming!”
Rich slammed into her more forceful each time he stroked until Vanessa came seconds before he did. He fell back on the pillows, exhausted, his dick sore.
Vanessa crawled on top of him and kissed on his neck. “I don't know where you been,
but I'm not letting you go anywhere,” she whispered in his ear.
CHAPTER FOUR
Candy was inside of her office the following morning when Leah walked inside carrying
her laptop.
“Hey, girl,” Leah said, hugging Candy. She pointed at Candy's desk. “Can I sit down? I
need to show you something.”
“Go 'head,” Candy said.
Leah set her laptop on Candy's desk and sat down. She began browsing the Internet.
“When I woke up this morning, I had an idea for your business,” she said as she logged onto a website dedicated to entrepreneurship and labor practices. She began pointing out statistics about the field Candy was considering.
“This is gonna be hell trying to really get this business up and running, while I'm holding down the shop,” Candy said.
“You know I'm always here to help.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“But believe me,” Leah looked up from the computer screen and into Candy's eyes, “if this
new business gets up and running how I predict, you'll be making so much money, you're gonna wanna get rid of this shop. It'll just be slowing you down.”
“Maybe—”
Leah cut her words short. “There's no maybe. I'm telling you. Numbers don’t lie.”
“We'll see.” Candy looked at her watch. “Everybody should be up front by now.” She
stood up and Leah followed suit. They went to the front of the shop and began conversing with Meisha and Chanel. A minute later, Vanessa strolled inside. Although Candy had not known Vanessa long, she knew the look on her face well. The smile that displayed more teeth than
usual, the glimmer of her eyes, the glow of a woman whose heart and mind were reenergized—it
was a look that came from good sex, love or a combination of both.
“How's everyone doing?” Vanessa asked.
Meisha sped over to her. “Girl, have a seat, breathe slow and let it out.”
“You act like she's having a baby,” Candy said, as Meisha sat Vanessa in her chair. “Calm down.”
Meisha looked at Vanessa. “Last night. Give it up. Size first. Can he fill out a Magnum?”
“All the way,” Vanessa said, with a smile. “I didn't know if I was gonna be able to take it all.”
“Well, you was limping a little bit when you walked in here,” said Meisha with a laugh.
“I take it he pleased you,” Leah stated matter of factly.
Vanessa closed her eyes and nodded. “He just took control, giving orders. I loved it.”
“I hope you be careful. Don’t get sprung,” Leah said.
“Been trying to tell her ass that since she met him,” Chanel shook her head, like a mother upset with her child.
Meisha turned to Chanel. “You need to stop hatin'!”
Chanel rolled her eyes. “Heifer, you just talking shit 'cause you got lips.”
“Anyway,” Meisha said, turning back to Vanessa. “Did he take you to the penthouse?”
“The terrace. Twenty-one floors, stars in the sky, just beautiful. It went down while we were looking down on Central Park.”
“Oh my God.” Meisha began jumping around, her curly hair swinging wildly, as she
covered her mouth with her hands. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them wider
. “I ain't never seen Central Park from that high, and you had your back dug out
from up there? Bless your soul.”
Candy fumed silently as she listened to how Rich had begun destroying the hopes she had
for her and Vanessa. She had managed to gain Vanessa's trust
through conversations they had during Vanessa's two weeks in the shop. But Candy had not
moved in on the intimate level it would take to make Vanessa hers. She was still feeling her out and waiting for some personal time alone with her. Despite the women in the shop knowing that
she was attracted to Vanessa on first sight, Candy had been downplaying her interest in
Vanessa. Anything that developed between them would have to be a private affair. The gossip that went on in the shop could destroy the strongest relationship. And Candy was determined to
be with Vanessa, uninterrupted by he say-she say or any other external influence.
As clients began to trickle into the shop, Candy kept her eyes on her crew.
Meisha was still probing Vanessa about Rich. Candy could see Chanel's blatant jealousy was developing into hate for Vanessa. Besides a pretty face, Vanessa was nothing like the females who were fabric addicts with big hips that Rich was known for having, women like Chanel. The more Candy thought about Rich's womanizing, the more she assumed his use for Vanessa would run out quickly. That would leave Vanessa broken hearted, giving Candy the perfect opportunity to make her move while Vanessa was vulnerable.
“Chanel,” Leah called.
“What?” Chanel responded over the sound of the TVs.
“Who was that fine young brother that was all over you last night?”
“Fine young brother on me all last night?” Chanel snapped her fingers, trying to
remember. “You gotta be specific, because every brother with two eyes and a brain wanted to be a part of the Chanel Legacy last night.”
“The one with the Knicks jersey on.”
Chanel sighed. “Some college ball playing ass dude. He was pissin' in my ear all night, talkin' `bout he about to go pro.”
“Better grab him before he blow up,” Meisha said.
“Shit, every damn dude in the 'hood that's not hustling think he gonna be the next Lebron or Jay-Z,” Chanel said.
“She ain't lying,” said a client, waiting to have her hair done.
“I told that fool last night that he need more than a hoop dream and a hard dick to be a
part of the Chanel Legacy. You gotta be doing A-Rod numbers just to get a whiff of this pussy,” Chanel said.
Candy turned to Vanessa. “So, you're serious about Rich?”
“I don't know yet.”
“So you just wanna see where it goes?”
“That's all you can really do with any man. Hope for the best and expect the worse,” Vanessa said.
Candy liked what she was hearing. She interpreted the slightest frustration with men as a signal that Vanessa might be fair game.
“I don't understand them,” Vanessa said.
“Exactly why I switched lanes,” Candy said. “Well, part of the reason.”
“What's the other part?”
“I never met a man that could make me feel like a woman.”
“I hear that.” Vanessa smiled, slightly shaking her head.
“I don't expect you to understand. It's something that requires experience to comprehend.”
“That rules me out,” Vanessa quickly replied.
“I used to say the same thing.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“It's a long story. I'll tell you one day.”
Candy needed to slow down. She was becoming aroused by just breaching the topic of
lesbianism with Vanessa. It was hard for her to talk to Vanessa without fantasizing about sexing her. So she reserved her conversation for a future day when they were alone, because words could easily lead to actions. Candy wanted to make sure that if she lost control of herself, no one was around to witness it.
Vanessa was interested in hearing what drove Candy over the top, and Candy took that as a sign that Vanessa could be reeled into her world. Experience had taught her how quick the transition from straight to gay could be.
Candy turned to Leah. “I did some research on the business,” she said.
“That's good.” Leah picked up a curling iron.
Candy told Leah about a few figures and details she had uncovered about the hair care
industry. She said her niche would be starting small with a few organic revitalizing scrubs. “My
cream will help you with that dry itchy scalp feeling. You know, when you're hair gets all
flakey?”
Leah's head bobbed. “Yeah, girl, especially when you're wearing braids. In between those times they get redone it can be hell on your scalp.”
“Exactly. My cream will be like that Carita Cream, but all natural.” Candy said.
“I downloaded some stuff off the internet for you to look over for me. It's
in my office.”
“I got you. This may be the foundation you we're talking about. The hair care industry is the next level for you moving on from the shop, maybe.”
“I don't wanna just abandon the shop,” Candy said, thinking of the time and energy she had put into making Candy’s Shop into a profitable business that was respected in Harlem.
“I'm just saying,” Leah's eyes widened. “Think about it.”
“I'm capable of doing two things at once,” Candy said. She wondered why Leah was so adamant about her leaving the shop. Could it be that Leah was possibly
harboring ill feelings because of Candy’s interest in young women? The funny looks and comments that Leah had been making about Candy's sex life had become questionable since the day her eyes beamed at Candy after she met Vanessa. But Candy did not want to make assumptions or
begin interrogating Leah. She couldn’t risk a misconception destroying a friendship with one of
the few people she valued having in her life.
“Also, you may wanna explore some other options for research instead of just going online,” said Leah.
“Yeah, I was talking to Free last night. He said I should contact SCORE.”
“Service Corps of Retired Executives,” Leah uttered the meaning of the acronym. “It's a
subsidiary of the Small Business Administration. I learned about them in school. They're retired bigwigs from different companies. They give you business advice for free.”
“Yeah, that's what Free said. He told me to have them help me with putting together a business plan.”
“Leah,” Chanel interrupted. “That heifer still beatin' you in the head with them Bill Gates dreams?”
Leah laughed.
“What the hell you know about business, Chanel?” Candy inquired.
Chanel grinned. “The truck I drive? Escalade.” She pointed at her red open-toe shoes.
“You see these pumps? Gucci. My handbag in the back? Gucci. Skirt and blouse? Dolce and Gabbana.”
“What's your point?” Candy asked.
“Everything I just mentioned is promotion and advertising to a target market of ballers
with money to blow.” Chanel slowly waved her hand over her body, from head to toe. “The Chanel Legacy is the fastest growing business in the 'hood.”
Vanessa was strolling through Midtown, Manhattan with Mimi during their lunch break.
She was giving Mimi a blow-by-blow visual of her night with Rich. She even revealed the car
episode—part of the sexually explicit story that she didn’t tell the women in the shop.
She had yet to gain complete trust in them, like she did Mimi. So exposing that she had given a
man she hardly knew a blow job while he was driving was something she was sure would
tarnish the perception the women in the shop had of her. Had she not been so engrossed in
Rich and left the club with him, she would not have mentioned anything about them having sex.
Mimi was the one person she could trust with her deepest secrets.
“You got a winner,” Mimi said.
“Yeah, I never had a man do me like that. I'm telling you, Mimi, it was amazing.”
“But you gotta watch them hos at that shop, you feel me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Candy and Chanel.”
“I don't get it.” Vanessa shrugged her shoulders.
“Come on, Nessa. Quit the Stevie Wonder routine. I know you saw the hate in the eyes of
them hos when we was up in the club and Rich was on you like a cheap suit.” Mimi mentioned
Candy being virtually silent after Vanessa left the club with Rich. “And Chanel,” Mimi
shook her head, “she was so heated that she broke out right after you and Rich left.”
Vanessa explained how Meisha accused Chanel of hating earlier in the shop. She also said that she could feel Chanel's jealousy, no matter how hard she tried to mask it. But in the club, she had not detected anything unusual or felt any bad vibes from Chanel or Candy. She thought Candy had her best interest in mind. “She's a lesbian. Why would she be jealous of me being with Rich?”
Mimi shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe she go both ways and she wanna fuck Rich. Damn if I know. What I do know, is how hos act when they jealous. I seen 'em a hundred times in the `hood. And Candy was jealous last night.”
Vanessa tried to make sense of what Mimi was saying. Maybe Candy
was
interested in Rich?
Everyone in the shop agreed he was a good catch sexually. Maybe Candy had not totally abandoned men?
Mimi's straight, but she's admitted to enjoying her experience with a woman.
“Just keep your eye on Chanel and Candy,” Mimi said. “I'm telling you. So when you gonna see ol’ boy again?”
“I don't know.” Vanessa realized that she did not have Rich's phone number or e-mail
address. She actually knew very little about him that was substantial. Shortly after their
sexcapade, he had driven her to pick up her car parked near Club Dream. During the drive, most of their conversation revolved around their sexual experience together and sexual desires. She
was amazed at how comfortable she felt discussing sex with Rich. She had never been with a man who
was so open about what he wanted and desired, or whether she was satisfying in bed. She knew
that if she could freely discuss sex with him, they could easily talk about any topic. Their
discussion inside the club had proved that he was quite the conversationalist. But as it stood, she and Rich had communicated much more sexually than verbally.
Vanessa began speculating if her interaction with Rich was just a one-night stand? If not,
did he want anything significant to develop between them? Would he be only seeking a bond between them based on sex? Everything that she had learned in the shop about Rich
suggested that he specialized in sex, not relationships and love. Vanessa would be content for now
with his strong sexual presence in her life. But she knew she would eventually need more
from Rich. She thrived off mental stimulation almost as much as she did sex and she felt that Rich could provide her with both.