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Chapter 1: Toy
(Tuesday, February 11, 2014)
The urgent blare of my alarm aroused me from a dead sleep. I uttered a plaintive groan as I grabbed my phone off the nightstand to shut off the infernal siren. I fell back onto my pillow, relieved by the silence. I turned my head towards the neighboring side of the bed to see my fiancée, Germaine sporting a huge grin as he watched my every move. I returned his with a faint smile of my own, a little self-conscious at being ogled despite looking a hot morning mess.
“What?” I asked him before turning away from his gaze, my face hot from the embarrassment of having so much attention lavished on me when I wasn’t at my best. Not that my best was all that great. And besides that, having him leer at me that way made me slightly uncomfortable.
Germaine turned my face towards him again. “I can’t look at you?” He continued to examine me, lovingly and expectantly, with those beautiful hazel eyes.
Damn, he’s fine. How in the world did you manage to pull this off? I asked myself.
“Yeah,” I said to him, shyly forcing myself to return his gaze. “But why would you want to, now? I’m just waking up, I got a bonnet on my head, and my breath probably stinks, too.” I raised my hand to my mouth.
He laughed. “Girl, even Beyoncé ain’t fine first thing in the morning.”
I cocked my head to the side.
“How you know?”
He pursed his lips, giving me the side eye.
“Man, listen. The only person who has Michael Jordan money besides Michael Jordan is Jay-Z. The league wasn’t paying me enough to even date an extra in one of her videos. But I’m saying. Beyoncé ain’t got nothing on you on her best day. Who cares what you look like first thing in the morning? You always look good to me.” He reached up and pulled my bonnet off my head and began running his fingers through my hair. “And besides, my breath stinks, too. See?”
And in one swift motion, he rolled over and grabbed me toward him and began showering me with kisses. I screamed in laughter and protest.
“Stop! Stop!” I yelled at him, almost out of breath. “Quit it, Germaine! You’re gonna make me late.”
He let off the tickling, but he remained in place.
“How can you be late as the owner?” he asked.
“I still have work to do.”
He lightly stroked my shoulder with the tip of his index finger.
“Yeah, but you got good people, babe. That place practically runs itself. What is it that demands your attention so urgently there that you got to be up at six a.m. when you got this fine hunk of gingerbread man laying here beside you?”
He stretched out the length of his body under the sheets, making a sweeping motion with his hand, as if he was presenting a prize to the audience on the Price is Right.
But he was right. Nothing was so important that I had to get up at O-dark-thirty and rush to work like I had a clock to punch. And he did look amazing. He was virtually an Adonis with freckles with a perfectly chiseled body like the statue of David. His sandy blonde hair was low cut with thick eyebrows and luxurious eyelashes to match. His clean-shaven face sported ginger speckles making him deliciously resemble a chocolate chip cookie. He was a gorgeous, polka dotted sight to behold and I was in love with every square inch of him.
I leaned into his firm body and wrapped my arms around his neck, planting a wet juicy kiss on his pouty lips, no longer caring about my morning breath or his. His eyes closed and he enveloped me in his grasp. I relaxed under him, releasing most of my inhibitions and fears. I felt safer with him than I had ever felt in the company of any man. Yet, I was still unable to completely let my guard down with him. It was all I could do, even now, to force myself to relax so he wouldn’t notice me stiffen at his touch. I knew I had to get myself together before I ran him away.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Germaine continued to stroke and caress my body, landing light butterfly kisses on my neck and making his way down my mid-section, refusing to acknowledge my cell phone demanding attention. I attempted to follow his lead by also trying to ignore it. Whatever it is will just have to wait. This is more important. Besides, this was actually kind of nice. The ringing finally stopped, and I smiled to myself, relieved that this time I was able to ease back into the groove with Germaine.
I was just starting to feel his breath just below my navel when the ringing started again, snatching me completely out of my zone. My eyes shot open, annoyed. Germaine, however, remained unfazed, nosing around my lady parts like a curious puppy exploring new surroundings. I turned my head towards my nuisance, debating on whether to answer it just to shut up the noise. I relented, reaching over and snatching the phone from the nightstand. I looked at it and rolled my eyes.
“Mm-mm,” Germaine protested. I could feel him shaking his head back and forth between my legs. His low deep voice reverberated through my entire body.
“I’ve got to,” I whined. “If I don’t, she’ll just keep calling.”
He stopped momentarily to come up for air. “Turn it off.”
“Babe, she’s still my mother.”
“So? She should have thought about that before.”
I sucked my teeth and aggressively swiped the screen to accept the call. I barely got ‘hello’ from my lips before she shouted, “What the hell take you so long to get to the damn phone? I know you see me calling you!” She was talking so loudly; I knew Germaine could hear her like she was on speaker phone. Suddenly, I was transformed from a sexy fiancée and independent businesswoman into a fearful, self-conscious, and invalidated teenager.
“I…I was in the shower,” I lied.
I glanced down into Germaine’s now disappointed face. He shook his head and rose from the bed, watching me be berated by my hateful mother via telephone.
“I got a mammogram on Thursday. And I need to go to the grocery store.”
I took a deep breath. “What time is your appointment?”
“Two o’clock! I told you that last week when you were down here.” Damn, Germaine and I were supposed to go to the drag strip that evening. I was never going to make it back in time.
“But Mother, I told you that you needed to make your appointments in the late mornings, no later than eleven, so I don’t get caught in all that traffic trying to make it back home in the evenings.”
“Well, you should’ve thought about that before you took your ass all the way down to the beach to live! You just wanted to move down there to live like white folks. Trying to be somebody. You still ain’t shit.”
I cut her off before she could finish.
“Okay, Mother. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“And you better have your ass here on time!”
I looked over at Germaine, who had been watching me flounder. He looked as though he pitied me. I lowered my eyes, unable to continue to face him. By the time I looked up again, he had left the room without another word, closing the bathroom door behind him.
© 2024 by Evelyn Outlaw
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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Evelyn Outlaw at dramaqueenpublications@gmail.com.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products are intended or should be inferred.
And if you’re curious to see how the story of Toy and Ericka began, click below to download a copy of my first book, “…and then I woke up.” for just $3.99. Or order a paperback copy for $10.99. Happy reading!