Insatiable Page 16

  “You got it…whassup?”

  “Are you afraid?”

  He threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Afraid? Of what…you?”

  Kai shook her head. “Yes. Me! Look, I promise…I won’t bite.”

  “Naw, Mommy. I ain’t skert.” He laughed uproariously, then turned serious. “I fear nothing and no one.”

  “Actually, I’m the one who should be afraid—picking up a man that I hardly know—so stop making excuses and come with me.”

  “Yo, check this out though…I told you, I’m in a relationship. I’m engaged.” He held her in his gaze; his eyes were sincere. “Me and my girl…we goin’ through a little somethin’ right now, but we gon’ git it together in a minute. So, what I’m sayin’ is…I’m not tryin’ to git into nothin’ too serious.”

  She gave him a “don’t flatter yourself” look.

  “I’m just tryin’ to keep it real,” he responded with a shrug.

  Kai shook her head. “Just a drink.” There was patience in her tone as she slowly spoke each word. “I’m not trying to stop the wedding,” she added with laughter.

  Marquise opened the door and slid in. “Nice ride,” he said as he adjusted the passenger seat to accommodate his height and then reclined the seat until the headrest practically touched the backseat.

  “Thanks.” She pulled off and stopped at the light. “Where to?”

  “It’s your world, Mommy; you tell me? I’m down wit whatever.”

  Does this man ever speak plain English? She wondered as she made a right on Broad Street. “I’m not in the mood for a crowd, so why don’t we have a drink at my place?”

  “Now that’s whassup,” he said with a nod.

  Kai felt relief for she had no intention of being seen in public with a common laborer—and a black one at that. No, that was absolutely out of the question.

  “What do you drink?”

  “Thug Passion.”

  “Thug what?” she exclaimed, amused.

  “Hennessy and Alize,” Marquise explained.

  “I see. We’ll have to make a stop at the liquor store.”

  “Aiight.”

  She stopped in front of a parking meter near the corner of 18th and Chestnut Streets. “I don’t have any quarters for the meter. Do you?”

  Marquise searched his pockets. “Just dimes and nickels—no quarters,” he said, examining the change in his hand.

  “Do you mind waiting in the car? I may need you to drive around the block if the stupid meter maid comes around.” Kai used an apologetic tone as if his driving her beautiful Benz would cause him undue hardship.

  “No problem,” he said without expression.

  She wanted to erupt into laughter at the way Marquise managed to keep a straight face when she knew he was restraining himself from turning cartwheels at the mere possibility of getting behind the wheel.

  Kai exited the liquor store carrying a large bag. She wasn’t surprised to find an empty space where she’d parked. A few moments later, Marquise cruised up, and despite his work attire he looked damn good sitting in the driver’s seat.

  Indulging him, Kai walked around to the passenger’s side and got in

  “This ride is phat!” he exclaimed, no longer able to contain his excitement. “Where to?”

  “I live on Columbus Boulevard. Near Penn’s Landing.”

  “Bang a left?” he asked at the traffic light.

  “Uh…yes…turn left.” Damn. The language barrier alone is going to give me a migraine before the night ends. He had better be worth this aggravation. I deserve a superior fuck and he’d damn well better deliver the goods.

  Her eyes darted to his crotch again and she wished she had X-ray vision. Unable to make an adequate appraisal, she took the liberty of lightly placing her hand on his inner thigh. Marquise bit his lower lip and uttered a low growl. The soft bulge quickly sprang to life, transforming into a beast that was thick…long…hot and actually seemed to pulsate. This was no ordinary dick—it was Shaka Zulu dick. Exactly what she needed to tame her savage libido.

  “I can’t drive like this,” he said, nodding his head toward her hand.

  She gave a sigh and reluctantly withdrew her hand.

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I gotchu, Mommy,” he said with a wink that promised to give her exactly what she was yearning for.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The liquor bottles remained inside the bag atop the kitchen counter, unopened, untouched.

  It was not a romantic rendezvous. There were no preliminaries. No small talk. No foreplay. Kai had ushered Marquise straight into the bedroom and shed her clothes. Following her lead, he did the same.

  Now, almost two hours later, lying on her stomach with her face buried in a pillow, Kai gripped the sides of the 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets while Marquise thrust deeply inside her. Changing the position, she turned over and wrapped her legs around his waist. This allowed him even deeper penetration, which caused her to shudder convulsively. Feeling uninhibited, she licked, then bit his salty shoulder, and inhaled his thick masculine scent.

  Marquise stopped moving.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, troubled.

  “You gonna make me cum.” His words were a breathy whisper spoken directly into her ear—tickling it, and arousing her further, causing her vaginal muscles to contract involuntarily.

  Unlocking her ankles, she released him.

  Rolling away from her, Marquise sat on the side of the bed.

  Kai moved in his direction. “Come here,” she whispered.

  “I need a minute,” he said firmly, without turning around.

  Kai suspected he was thinking about his girlfriend. Refusing to acknowledge his sudden attack of guilt, she slithered over to his side of the bed and eased down to the floor. Facing him on her knees, she parted his legs. “You’ll feel better when I lick that pussy juice off you.”

  Marquise groaned and fell back, allowing Kai to have her way with him.

  She licked the length of his rock-hard shaft and then concentrated on the smooth head, slowing rolling her tongue around it. “Mmm,” she moaned.

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it. Kai moaned. Having someone pull her hair was a new and erotic sensation. She finally cried out, “I can’t wait—put it in,” she whimpered as she came up for air and straddled him. With a trembling hand, she directed him inside her slippery opening. He thrust upward, she pushed down—they moved together frantically, moaning like savages until Marquise exploded.

  “Oh no,” she whimpered as he lay panting.

  “What’s the deal?” he asked when he finally caught his breath.

  “Are you finished?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  Marquise propped himself up on an elbow and looked at her. “Yeah, I’m finished. Ain’t you?”

  She shook her head mournfully.

  “We been at it for damn near two hours—maybe longer,” he said crossly. “Who you think you dealin’ wit? I ain’t the damn Energizer Bunny, and I don’t keep no battery pack in my back.”

  Kai sighed and then fell onto the pillows, sulking.

  “Yo, cut that shit. I need a break. Gimme a minute; you’ll git yours.”

  “When?” She threw a pillow at him playfully.

  He cut his eyes at his watch. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” Kai yelped. “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “Yo, I’m hungry…I’m tired…and I gotta git home.” He spoke slowly and deliberately.

  Kai’s mind raced for a quick solution. “I can order something to eat. What are you in the mood for—Chinese…Japanese…Italian…what?”

  “American,” he said, laughing. “Chicken, steak, seafood—whatever.”

  Butt naked, Kai sprinted into the kitchen and returned with a large, fancy-looking menu. “This place has the best steak in the world—and they deliver,” she said in an upbeat tone. “Do you want to order?”

  She noticed him frowning dow
n at his watch. “The filet mignon is so tender, you can cut it with a fork,” she said brightly, urging him to place an order—yearning for him to stay—to finish what he’d started.

  “Aiight,” he finally said. “Go ’head and place the order.”

  She twirled her hair with one hand and held the phone pressed against her ear with the other—pacing while she ordered dinner.

  “Mind if I take a shower?” Marquise asked.

  “Go right ahead. You can use the bathroom down the hall.”

  Marquise slipped on his boxers and padded toward the bathroom.

  Kai finished ordering, hung up the phone and rummaged through the kitchen drawers for her little red book, The Bartender’s Guide. She located the book, thumbed through it, but couldn’t find any mention of Thug Passion. She shrugged and decided to mix equal portions of Hennessy and Alize.

  Wanting to be fresh for round two, Kai showered quickly in the second bathroom. When she was finished, she threw on an expensive, thick terrycloth robe.

  She found Marquise, who had finished showering also, standing in the living room, wearing a white towel, which was tucked tightly around his waist as he browsed through her DVD collection. On the coffee table, there was a half-filled glass of the Hennessy and Alize concoction she’d mixed for him. Something about the way the white towel contrasted with his black skin made Kai’s nipples hard and her pussy moist. He looked edible—like a giant piece of Godiva chocolate. She had to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around him and biting into his skin.

  “Find anything you’d like to watch?”

  Startled, he jerked around. “Yo, don’t be sneaking up on me like that. You lucky I ain’t got my gun on me,” he said teasingly. “I usually blast niggas and ask questions later when niggas creep up on me like that.” Marquise erupted into laughter. Kai laughed along with him, but there was a nervous edge to her laughter. Does he really have a gun? She had never met anyone like Marquise. She was both appalled and intrigued at the same time.

  His mood was obviously elevated. Perhaps he was relaxed from the shower—or maybe the Thug Passion he’d guzzled had removed the edginess that was apparent earlier.

  Grimacing, Marquise read the back of a DVD. “Man, your DVD collection is whack. Why you like these weird-ass movies?”

  “They’re not weird. There’s a combination of both foreign and independent films. Oh, and there’s a sprinkling of commercial movies. But don’t knock my taste in films until you’ve tried them.”

  “I like action flicks. Murder, mayhem, car chases, gunshots…lots of bloodshed.”

  Kai shook her head. “I’ve got a few action movies in my collection. You just didn’t recognize the titles.”

  “Yo, do your action flicks have words runnin’ all across the screen? ’Cause I ain’t got no patience for those typa jawns.”

  “Some have subtitles; some don’t,” she said with an indulgent smile. But, instead of thinking him an idiot, as was her nature, she found his rough edges and inexperience endearing. Unlike that hopeless LaVella, Marquise had potential. She’d have him polished and presentable in no time.

  The food arrived and Marquise was appropriately impressed with the filet mignon. His, well done and Kai’s prepared rare.

  Holding a fork close to his lips, Kai offered Marquise a taste of her steak. She was relaxed with Marquise and felt comfortable in the intimate act of offering him food from her plate. He, however, wrinkled his nose and recoiled from the juicy rare meat.

  After dinner, they shared a slice of cherry cheesecake—the best in the city, Kai informed him.

  Finally, Marquise muttered something about the time…that it was getting late.

  Pretending to not hear him, Kai took their empty plates into the kitchen and began pressing the buttons on the microwave. She returned carrying a small bowl.

  “Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you,” she announced.

  He spun around to face her. Kai put the bowl behind her back.

  An aggravated look flashed across his face. “I don’t like surprises—what’s in the bowl?”

  “You’ll find out when you close your eyes,” she said in a singsong voice.

  “Seriously, stop playin’ all the time.” There was a threatening note in his voice, which Kai chose to ignore.

  “Okay, you don’t have to close your eyes…just turn around.”

  Turning slowly, Marquise sighed. “Hurry up with this little game ’cause I gotta go—I gotta git up early.”

  Ignoring his grumbling, Kai crept behind him and unfastened the towel. It fell to the floor. She kissed his back, stooped and kissed his buttocks, tickling the crack with her tongue. Marquise, suddenly quiet, except for a low groan, stood naked and trembling in the middle of her living-room floor. From the bowl, Kai scooped a small portion of melted Godiva chocolate, reached around and spread it all over his dick.

  Taking his hand, she led him to the sofa, nudging him until he sat down. On her knees before him, Kai licked and sucked the chocolate from his member, and then spread the gooey mixture to his scrotum. “Mmm. You taste delicious,” she whispered against his balls. “I love this deep, dark…double chocolate treat. Tell me, Marquise…”

  “What?” he asked in a raspy groan.

  “Are you going to stay here and fuck me all night?”

  “Yeah, Mommy…I’m stayin’. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I’m gonna wax that red ass all night long.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Frantic with worry, Terelle picked up the phone.

  “Marquise is missing and I don’t know what to do,” she blurted when Saleema answered the phone.

  “Damn, girl. Calm down. It’s only nine o’clock; you sound like he’s been missing for days.”

  “Quise got off work at three-thirty. Something’s wrong, Saleema.”

  “You’re stressing for nothing and you need to stop. He’s probably hanging out with his friends. Can’t a brotha go out and have a drink after work?”

  “Not without changing out of his work uniform.”

  “Hmm.” Saleema pondered aloud. “Y’all have an argument or somethin’?”

  Terelle was silent. She wondered if she should divulge that type of personal information.

  “You there?” Saleema asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah what?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here and yes, we’ve been arguing.” There was a defensive tone to her voice that she couldn’t help.

  Terelle took a deep breath and then told Saleema about the trouble she’d been having with Marquise: the women on the bus, the night he came home late and fell asleep while she was attempting to initiate sex…and the recent suspicion that he was creepin’ with someone on their job.

  Saleema listened without comment.

  “Say something, Saleema. You know I hate it when you do that.”

  “Here we go again.” Saleema sighed heavily.

  “What?”

  “You don’t really want my opinion. You want me to say something—anything to make you feel better and I just don’t fuckin’ feel like it tonight,” Saleema yelled.

  “Why are you screaming at me like I did something wrong?”

  “Because…it don’t make no sense the way you let that nigga get over on you.”

  Terelle cringed at the word nigga, but didn’t feel like correcting Saleema.

  “Damn, Terelle…wake the fuck up. Marquise ain’t shit, ain’t never been shit. You need to fire his ass and move the hell on.”

  “Break up with Marquise?” Terelle’s voice faltered. “That’s your advice for me?”

  “Yeah. He ain’t gonna change. Marquise is a hoe and you know it. Just because he got a job…and just because he ain’t hangin’ on the corner sellin’ drugs don’t mean he ain’t a hoe…”

  “Look who’s talking,” Terelle said, cutting Saleema off.

  “That’s right. But at least I’m a well-paid hoe. How much money does Quise get?”

  Terelle was
silent. She held the phone to her ear and gazed into space.

  “He ain’t getting nothin’ but STDs,” Saleema continued. “I hope he has enough respect for you to cover his Jimmie up.”

  “Uh…that’s my other line, Saleema. It might be Quise. I gotta go,” Terelle said, lying.

  “You got your call waitin’ put back on?”

  “Uh-huh. I changed it back when Quise got off house arrest. Look, I gotta go,” she said impatiently.

  As she hung up, she could hear Saleema shouting for her to make sure she called her back. Perhaps she would call her in a week or so…after she and Marquise straightened things out. With Marquise missing and with the current uncertainty that surrounded their relationship, she was in no shape for a verbal battle with Saleema. And with her emotions so close to the surface, she was liable to say something that would ruin the relationship with the best friend she’d ever had.

  She heard a noise in the bedroom and rushed to check on Markeeta. Markeeta slept peacefully, but the baby doll she slept with had fallen on the floor. Terelle picked up the doll and tucked it under her daughter’s chubby arm. Warmth flowed through her as she gazed at Markeeta and marveled at her beauty. Bending down, she smoothed the edges of her daughter’s hair and kissed her face. With her hair styled in cornrows, Markeeta was the spitting image of Marquise.

  Marquise! Struck by the painful reminder that Marquise had not come home, Terelle rubbed her chest in a circular motion and plodded back to the kitchen. Her instinct told her he was alive—he was well—but something else was terribly wrong. Her face twisted in agony when the disturbing image of Marquise and Danita appeared in her mind.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, waiting to hear from Marquise, her eyes roved desperately from the clock to the soundless telephone. After all she’d done for him, after all he’d put her through—how could he do this to her?

  Anger replaced fear and uncertainty. Marquise was not going to trample over her heart and get away with it. She jumped up from the table, yanked open the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink, pulled out a green plastic bag. Marquise had to go!