A swell of muscles encompassed his upper half. State lifted them both off of the bed and placed her body against the wall. The rough surface heightened her pleasure. His warm mouth placed a trail of caramel kisses from her lips down to her erect nipples with velvet ease.
Dylan gasped for air as her thighs rested on his strong shoulders. State had a champagne tongue, full of hunger and lust. Shamelessly, he sucked the wine from her grape until he was satisfied and she could no longer scream shouts of ecstasy.
State gripped the curves of her hips with a look of lust in his eyes. The freakiness they were creating was sinfully decadent. It was as if they were space ships in the night, searching for new heights of erotic bliss.
Thoughts of how easily he had let her go entered Dylan’s mind, but she’d deal with that later. State was hitting her with the death stroke. She could feel his dick all the way up in her rib cage. Fervently, she kissed his soft lips. Each touch of his mouth caused her to fall further down the rabbit hole of denial.
State wrapped his arms around Dylan’s small waist and carried her back over to the bed. Her plump ass now faced him. He eagerly entered her from behind.
“Mmmm, yessssssss!” She clutched the sheets tight.
“That’s how you want it?” he asked, grinding his hips in a circular motion.
“Yes! Oh my God, I missed this dick!” Dylan screamed, as her first orgasm approached.
A surge of energy took over her body, causing her to shake while warm cream slid down her inner thigh. She could hear his cell phone ringing in the distance, but State ignored the call.
State couldn’t take it anymore. Ready to explode, he pulled out and placed hot lava onto her back.
As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours, Dylan and State became one. In between the faint murmur of fading heartbeats, they explored the hidden areas of each other’s bodies that no one else had dared to find.
The next morning, Dylan awoke expecting to see his sleeping face, but in its place was a hand-tied bouquet of ivory calla lilies and yellow-throated green cymbidium orchids. They were the prettiest flowers she’d ever seen. Dylan sat up and placed them up to her nose. The scent was magical. To her surprise, tucked inside the bouquet was a small note. It simply said:
You’re never far away from my mind.
State
A huge smile graced the corners of Dylan’s lips. A part of her felt whole again. Even though she’d tried to change her environment and her mindset, the feelings she had for State still lingered underneath the surface.
Dylan was determined, though, not to fall head over heels for him. State hadn’t lived up to his word before, and there was no way in hell she would allow him to play her for a fool once more.
No matter how hard they tried to stay away from one another, State always knew he and Dylan would end up back together again. What they shared was special. Homegirl was fly in every sense of the word. She had a swagger like no other. She was beautiful, vibrant, quirky, and fun to be around. She was his backbone. But three years into their relationship, his feelings changed, and he found himself having to be high just to be around her.
At that point, things were never cool between them. Every five seconds they were arguing and fighting over dumb shit. If Dylan looked at him the wrong way or breathed too loud, he got an attitude. And although he cared deeply for her, State found Dylan to be lazy, undetermined, and a little dingy at times. Plus, every five seconds she was pushing the idea of marriage down his throat. She just wouldn’t let the shit come natural. State couldn’t even take a dump without seeing a bridal magazine somewhere. The only thing Dylan wanted to watch was
Bridezillas
and a bunch of other WE-TV nonsense. It got to the point that he began to feel claustrophobic.
To him, things were going outside of moving too fast. State had always been a playboy, and was very happy to be one. He loved his Hugh Hefner lifestyle, and was admired around the world for it.
Dylan had other things in mind, though. She had their entire life planned out, and although State loved her, at the time he wasn’t ready for a wife and baby. So, while she walked around dreaming of the perfect house with a white picket fence, State did the only thing he knew how to do and pulled back. He made it perfectly clear to Dylan that none of the things she needed from him were going to happen. And yeah, he knew she would be disappointed, but never in a million years did he think she’d get tired and leave.
Unfortunately, State persisted to reminisce about the way she kissed his lips. The way she loved him too much. Everything about her stayed in the forefront of his mind; but despite his feelings for her, State still found solace in someone new.
Back at home, he unlocked his door and entered his multimillion-dollar apartment. Pure pandemonium was going on inside. Stylists and personal assistants were moving at lightning speed, making calls on their BlackBerry smartphones, sending e-mails, picking out clothes, and packing luggage. State wasn’t at all fazed by the madness. This was his life.
“Yo’, Ash, where you at?” he called out, placing down his keys.
“I’m in here,” she yelled from upstairs.
State took the steps two at a time and walked into his bedroom. Clothes, shoes, and bags were sprawled everywhere, and in the midst of it all was his wife, Ashton. She was heading out on the first leg of her European tour.
Even without any makeup she was strikingly beautiful. Ashton was a five foot three, 110-pound, African American, Filipino, West Indian and Mexican R&B diva. They’d had a whirlwind love affair that so far had only spanned three months. State never thought that he would like someone as much as he did Dylan, but Ashton captured his heart with just one wink of the eye. Plus, she was good for his career. State never thought it would happen, but on a drunken night in Vegas, he and Ashton decided to go the Little White Chapel and get married.
“Hey, baby. I missed you.” She smiled, jumping over stuff to get to him.
“I miss you too.” He squeezed her tight and kissed her lips.
“I’ve been callin’ you all night. I didn’t think you were going to make it home before I left. Did y’all get the track finished?”
“Yeah,” State lied.
During one of his and Dylan’s sex breaks, he’d sneaked off into the bathroom and texted Ashton to let her know he’d be in the studio all night.
“Good. It sucks that I won’t be able to take my ring with me while I’m gone.” She held up her left hand and admired her Harry Winston emerald-cut 21.16 carat diamond ring.
“You’ll get to wear it all you want once the tour is over. Then we’ll go public and have the wedding you always dreamed of.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m just happy that I get to have you all to myself before I fly out tonight.” She unbuttoned his pants.
“What you lookin’ for?” State kissed her neck and massaged her butt.
“This.” Ashton bit her bottom lip. Horny as hell, she unzipped his jeans and pulled out his hard dick.
Gazing up into his brown eyes, she eased her way down. State prayed that she wouldn’t smell the scent of another woman on him. Once her pink, pouty lips hit the tip of his dick and she took him in inch by inch, State knew he was in the clear. Holding his head back, he closed his eyes and anticipated what was sure to be an explosive orgasm.
“I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie world.”
Chapter 2
Dylan was an hour late for breakfast with the girls. That morning, they were all meeting at Crepes: Etc., which was only a few blocks away from her crib. After showering and getting dressed, Dylan hailed a cab and rushed inside the restaurant. To her surprise, neither one of her friends were there. Perturbed and relieved at the same time, Dylan found a seat near the window and waited.
Where are these hoes at?
She wondered after twenty minutes had passed.
Dylan looked out the window to see if she could spot them anywhere. Suddenly, she saw Billie, her best friend, and her cousin Teyona (a.k.a. Tee-Tee, a.k.a. Dick ’em Down Diva) walking toward the restaurant.
Billie, the most conservative of the bunch, was newly separated from her husband of eleven years, St. Louis Rams superstar Cain Townsend. She was a mother of three and the “HBIC” of St. Louis. Billie was not only the president of the Rams Wives’ Club, but she also served on the board of the St. Louis Art Museum, was the president of her building’s board, and the president of the PTA. Most industry wives feared her. Billie was known for being cold and aloof, but to Dylan she was nothing but supportive and loving.
Tee-Tee, on the other hand, was everything Billie wasn’t. He was overly eccentric, loud, opinionated, and never took anything too seriously. He enjoyed the company of a different man almost every night of the week, and there wasn’t a pair of high heels in the world he didn’t love.
“Hey, girl!” He waved as he and Billie passed the window.
Instead of speaking, Dylan hit him with the middle finger and smiled.
“Took y’all long enough. Y’all ass can’t never get nowhere on time,” she griped as they sat down.
“Don’t blame me. Blame drunk-ass.” Billie pointed with her head toward Tee-Tee.
“Heffa, don’t start,” Tee-Tee warned as he secured his allblack Chanel shades over his eyes. The bright lights and the loud chatter inside the restaurant were killing him softly.
“Um, you do realize that you’re not outside anymore?” Dylan looked at him like he was crazy.
“Hoooooooooooney.” He popped his lips. “If you had a night like I did, you would have on shades too.”
“Wow.” Dylan shook her head, knowing he had a hangover.
“Did you order yet?” Billie asked.
“No, I’m not inconsiderate like you two skanks,” Dylan quipped.
“Oh, bitch, get over it.” Billie scrunched up her face.
“I hope you choke on your food.” Dylan joked, yawning.
“Speaking of choking . . .” Tee-Tee perked up. “Why, last night I was wit’ this guy, right, so we gettin’ it poppin’. He kissin’ me in all the right places, sayin’ all the right things, so I’m ready for the dick. Now, y’all know I’m a bad bitch. There ain’t a dick out here my mouth can’t handle. Well, honey, this niggah pulled down his paaaaaants, and his dick was so big, I thought I was gon’ get lockjaw just by lookin’ at it!”
“And what you say his name was again?” Dylan teased, pulling out her cell phone.
“I didn’t, ho.” He squinted his eyes.
“Quit being stingy wit’ the beef.”
“Chile, please. That Jimmy Dean sausage is all mines. Now, it wouldn’t fit all the way in, but baby, the ten inches that did rocked my ass to sleep!”
“TMI, TMI, niggah! TMI!” Dylan quickly erased the visual.
“Uh, don’t hate, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you over there yawning all over the place. Why you so tired? It ain’t like you got a job. Don’t tell me you got a new boo?”
“I wish.” Dylan rolled her eyes, hoping they wouldn’t realize she was lying.
Tee-Tee didn’t mind her relationship with State. Billie, on the other hand, couldn’t stand him, and constantly questioned what Dylan even saw in him. Besides that, Dylan just didn’t feel like explaining why she decided to mess with him again. Billie would never comprehend it. And no, Billie didn’t run her life, but for now Dylan would rather keep her and State’s relationship between the two of them.
“Remember I was going to that Rising Icons concert.”
“That’s right.” Tee-Tee snapped his fingers. “You did say that. So, how was it? Did Wale pull his dick out?”
“No, coon, he didn’t.”
“Did you sleep with him at least?”
“No.”
“Well, what was the point of you going? Sounds to me like you had a dull night.”
“Anyhow you’re mighty quiet over there.” Dylan quickly changed the subject. “What’s eating you, Gilbert Grape?” she asked Billie.
“Don’t even get me started.” Billie rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Tee-Tee scooted closer. “Tell Mama.”
“Where do I start? Let me see.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Remember the dude Jerrod I met at EXO that night we went together?”
“Yeah, he was kinda cute.”
“Fuck cute. That niggah almost killed me.”
“What?” Dylan eyed her seriously.
“Girl, it was the worst date of my life.”
“Hold up.” Tee-Tee closed his eyes and shook his head. “Did you say Jerrod?”
“Yeah.” Billie nodded.
“About five feet eleven, dark skin wit’ a low cut?”
“Yeah.”
“Gurrrrrrl, that ain’t nothing but Musty Nuts, a.k.a. Heidi’s ex-boyfriend.”
“I knew I smelt his ass from somewhere!” Billie clapped her hands together.
“You know I got Delicious and them on speed dial.” He held up his phone.
“His broke ass ain’t even worth it.” Billie rolled her eyes.
“Where did y’all go?”
“Café DePaul.”
“Is that new?” Dylan asked. “I ain’t never heard of it.”
“Me either, so why I go and put on my nine hundred dollar orange Costello Tagliapietra dress and my Jill Sander heels? This muthafucka picks me up, and we in the car, and I’m smelling something. So, before I start passing judgment, I’m like, is it me? So, on the sly, I smell underneath my arms—nothing. I’m straight, but the smell is just funkin’ up the car.”
“What it smell like?” Tee-Tee questioned.
“Badussy!”
“Are you serious?” Dylan said with skepticism.
“No, I’m dead serious. So, he talkin’ about his ex-girlfriend and how she did him so wrong and played him to the left after he bought her a three-hundred dollar dog. And, y’all, I was tryin’ my best to stay focused on the conversation, but I swear to God I kept on blacking in and out.”
Tee-Tee and Dylan cracked up laughing.
“Thankfully, after a thirty-minute ride we pull up to the place, but it’s a hospital. So, before I flipped the fuck out, I’m thinkin’ maybe he needed to check on somebody or something. But this niggah tells me to come on and get out, like it’s nothing. So, we go inside, and we walkin’, and guess what?”
“What?” Tee-Tee’s eyes grew wide with anticipation.
“This dumb muthafucka takes me to the hospital cafeteria called Café DePaul.”
Dylan had to wipe tears from her eyes because she was laughing so hard.
“Girl, he pissed me off.” Billie couldn’t help but giggle. “I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to take me to a hospital cafeteria for our first date.”
“So, what did you do? Did y’all sit down and eat?” Tee-Tee asked.
“Hell naw! What I look like, one of the
Real Chance of Love
girls? I cussed his stankin’ ass out, called me a cab, and got my ass up outta there.”
“That shit is crazy as hell.” Dylan finally calmed down.
“Who you tellin’? I had to take three baths just to get the smell up off me.”
“You stupid.” Dylan looked down at her menu.
“No, what I need to do is date someone closer to my age.” Billie drank her coffee.
“And what age would that be this week?” Tee-Tee joked.
“Yo’ mama,” Billie joned.
“Whateva.” Tee-Tee flicked his wrist.
“But enough about me. What you got on the agenda today?” Billie turned her attention to Dylan.
“Shopping, of course, and my monthly meeting with Morty.” Dylan grimaced in reference to her accountant/trust fund manager.
“Oh it’s that time again? It seems like it was just a week ago you got yelled at for spending ten thousand on that Hermès Birkin bag.”
“I know, right, but I’m like, it’s Hermès, Morty. Victoria Beckham has one. There is no way I’m not gonna have one too.”
“You’re a mess, but seriously, you do need to slow down. The money your father left isn’t gonna last forever.”
“Huuuuuuuuh! Not you too. My motto is you only live once. Besides, my finances are straight, and once I go see Morty, he’ll confirm it.”
“Dylan, your spending is out of control!” Morty yelled from across his desk as he glanced down at her figures.
“Ewwww, you don’t have to yell.” She drew back. “I’m sitting right here.”
“I mean, how many times do I have to tell you? You cannot continue to blow money like this. I mean, look.” He held up a piece of paper and placed it in her face. “One thousand dollars at Sephora, six thousand at Splash, twenty-five hundred at Intermix—”
Dylan cut him off. “They were having a fifty percent off sale on gloves.”
“Twelve thousand at Target!” Morty screamed.
“Ummmmmm, I needed new towels.” Dylan looked at him as if nothing was wrong.
“This is ridiculous, Dylan. You have to stop, and I’m sorry to say that if you don’t, you’ll be broke in less than a year.”
“Now you’re just exaggerating.” Dylan smiled and waved him off.
She knew that she had financial problems, but they couldn’t be as bad as Morty was making it out to be. Then again, Dylan never read any of the letters she got from the collection agencies or credit card companies. When the mail came, she simply threw it on top of the fridge and forgot about it.
“Okay . . . keep thinking it’s a joke,” Morty cautioned. “Keep living in this li’l make-believe fantasy world of yours if you want to. I’ve done all I can do. Now it’s up to you.”
Dylan had gone from having one of the best days of her life to the worst in a matter of hours. After getting her asshole torn out by Morty, now she had to deal with even more unexpected news—but this news was far worse than learning she was almost penniless. Fifteen minutes had gone by, and Dylan hadn’t moved an inch. She stood at her kitchen counter, holding her cordless phone in a daze. The one new message left on her voice mail had caught her completely off guard. She hadn’t heard from her mother in close to a year, and liked it—no, loved it that way. Candice Channing/ Monroe /Van der Woodson/ Moretti/Briatore, a.k.a. Candy, was a lot of things, but a mother, confidant, and friend she was not.
From as far back as Dylan could remember, she’d been raising herself. All of her life, she’d viewed her relationship with Candy as if she were the mother and Candy was the child. Instead of spending quality time with Dylan, Candy enjoyed picking up men, drinking vodka, scheming, and dishing out insults, mostly to Dylan. Candy was never satisfied with anything in her life. She was always on the search for more. Whether it was a new man, a new car, or purse; whatever Candy wanted, Candy got.
She didn’t care if she had to lie, cheat or steal; nothing or no one, including Dylan, was gonna get in her way. Like her daughter, Candy was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her mother was screen siren and classically trained singer Dahl Channing. Candy referred to her as Mommie Dearest, due to her emotional and physical abuse. Her mother was cold-hearted, and when she died, she left Candy with nothing. Candy was only eighteen. With only her stunning good looks and a voice like velvet to carry her through, she married young in hopes of keeping the lifestyle she was accustomed to.
Her husband’s name was Bill. They’d met and married after dating only a month. To Bill, Candy was the sexiest woman on earth. If he could, he would have kept her bottled up in a glass jar for only his eyes to see, but Candy had other plans. While Bill worked hard at his family’s very profitable and well-known brewery company, Candy shopped frivolously and pursued a singing career.
At first Bill didn’t mind her pursuit of fame, the constant smoking and heavy drinking, but when Candy became pregnant with Dylan, his feelings quickly changed.
“No married woman with child should be hanging out into the wee hours of the morning, singing for a bunch of drunken fools,” he said. In Bill’s mind, a mother’s place was in the home, not in the streets.
Of course, Candy felt differently. Since childhood, she’d dreamed of being a star just like her mother, and she wasn’t going to let her pregnancy or her husband’s disapproval stop her. Candy prayed that Bill would eventually come around to seeing things her way, but by the time Dylan was five, the once unsinkable love they shared had become non-existent. Candy’s career hadn’t taken off as she’d planned, and Bill had found comfort in someone younger and new.