down. “Gotdamn,” he groans, licking his lips as he grabs a chunk of my ass, “you got some good-ass pussy, baby. And that shit’s nice ’n tight.”
I smirk. “Yeah, nigga, just like I told you it would be.”
He slaps me on the ass. “Yeah, it betta had been.”
I suck my teeth. “Whatever, nigga.” I head toward the bathroom. He follows behind me.
“Aye, yo, when we doin’ this shit?”
“When we doing what?” I ask, feigning ignorance as I turn on the shower. But I know what that what is— getting married.
“Tying the knot,” he says, pulling me into him. I lean back on his chest and crane my neck to look at him. He lightly kisses me on the lips. “I wanna wife you up, baby.”
I smile. “And I wanna be your wife; especially after the way you fucked me down today with that big-ass dick.”
He grins. “Yeah, aiight. So answer the question, then.”
“You set the date,” I tell him as I step out of his embrace, then step into the shower. He gets in behind me.
“Next Saturday,” he says.
I laugh. “You have got to be kidding me. That’s too soon, silly. I need to find a dress.”
He twists his lips. “All them damn clothes you got, and you mean to tell me you don’t have something you can rock? Give me a break.”
I look him in the eyes. Step up into his space. “Jasper, when I marry you it’s going to be my one and only marriage. So when I come down that aisle or staircase or sandy beach, I’m gonna be the baddest bitch you’ve ever seen for a bride.”
He smiles, reaching for my nipples. He kneads them between his fingers. “Oh, yeah. Well, check this out. You already the baddest bitch, baby. And that’s why a nigga’s tryna snatch you up on some official shit.”
I grab his hard dick, stroke it. “Mmmph,” I say licking my lips. “I’ve missed the hell out of that dick.”
“Oh, word? Is that all you missed.”
I reach up on my tippy-toes and kiss him on the lips, slipping my tongue into his mouth. We kiss for a few moments, before I pull away. “And those sexy lips.”
He grins, reaching for the soap and washcloth and washing himself off. “I can tell.”
As soon as we finish our shower—after another round of in-tense fucking, we dress, then head out the door, leaving behind the scent of sweet, sweaty sexing.
I drop Jasper off where I picked him up from earlier. He tells me he’ll call me later on, then says, “Saturday, October ninth. Two P.M.”
“October ninth? What’s happening then?”
“I’m marryin’ ya fine-ass. That’s seven months away. It’s Columbus Day weekend and gives you more than enough time to do whatever the fuck you need to do.” I smile, but inside I’m wondering when he came up with that date and how the hell I’m going to find a place in such short notice. I can tell his mind is made up. “I don’t wanna hear no bullshit, yo. That’s what it is, ya dig?”
“So is this you putting your foot down?”
“Damn straight.”
“Well, alright then, big daddy. Whatever you want.”
He leans over and kisses me, then gets out of the car. “It better be. Where you going from here?”
“The shop,” I tell him.
“Yeah, aiight. Make sure you take ya ass straight there, too.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
“Yeah, aiight. You heard what Daddy said. Take ya ass straight to work, yo. You hear me?”
“Bye, Jasper. Call me later.”
“No doubt, baby.” I watch him as he walks across the street like he’s been riding up and down on buses all day, looking for work. As I’m pulling off, I smile, replaying our encounter back at the motel in my head. My pussy is well-fucked, my throat well-coated, and my heart overflowing with love.
NINETEEN
When I walk through the salon’s door, there’s a lot of lively chatter going on. Shuwanda’s new client Robyn is sitting in the waiting area with her man—the nigga whose dick I’d wet a while back. She’s leaning up on him, flipping through a magazine, while he’s on his iPhone. She speaks when she sees me over at the counter with Felecia. Her man eyes her, then quickly shoots a look over at me before going back to doing whatever it was he was preoccupied with. I feel a level of discomfort, seeing him sitting up in here for the second time.
“We set the date,” I say to Felecia, sharing the news about my upcoming nuptials.
“Girl,” she squeals, “it’s about damn time. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” I say.
She gets on the intercom and announces, “Alright ya’ll…listen up. It’s official. We have a wedding to plan. Pasha and Jasper are finally jumping the broom. Columbus Day weekend it’s gonna be on and poppin’.” Everyone claps and cheers, and gives their congratulations. I blush, visibly embarrassed by the unwanted attention.
I tell all the well-wishers thanks, then shift my attention back to Felecia. “Do I have any cancellations?”
“Nope. So far, looks like everyone’s gonna show. Umm, did Alicia call you?” she asks as she hands me the mail.
“No, she hasn’t. Why?”
“Chile, don’t quote me or anything. But I think she’s gonna ask you if she can have her job back.”
Now, between you and me, I really like Alicia. And maybe if she was paying rent like everyone else up in here I might be a bit more open to reconsider my decision to let her go. But since she’s working off commission, and had the nerve to call out because she got messy, then comes up in here the next day and gets tossed around in my office, there’s no room for a change of heart. Not only did she cost me paper, the bitch came up in here bringing drama to my place of business. Whether intentional or not, I don’t give a goddamn. There’s nothing to discuss. It’s nothing personal. She has three small kids to feed, but that’s not my problem. This is a business. And I’m about the business of running a classy, upscale salon. And fighting up in my shop isn’t it. It’s bad enough a motherfucker came up in here and tried to bring it to me. But, this…unh, not acceptable!
“Well, I don’t know why she’d do that. She can’t be that crazy to part her lips to even come at me with that nonsense. After that shit that went down up in here there’s no way she’ll ever step foot through these doors again.” I feel like a two-faced, hypocrite. And I should. Still, it’s my shop; my rules. So, it is what it is.
“I hear that. Oh, before I forget. Your three o’clock is gonna be fifteen minutes late. Gina called to cancel her hair appointment for tomorrow. She said she’ll call back later to reschedule. And Bianca wants to know if you can squeeze her in for next Tuesday.”
“I’ll call her,” I say, gathering my things to head to my office. As Robyn gets up to walk over to Shuwanda’s workstation, out of the corner of my eye, I glance over at her man, wondering if he’s even recognized who I am. I’m hoping he hasn’t. But judging by the way he’s checking me on the sly, I can tell he’s trying to figure it out.
“By the way,” Felecia says, “a package came for you. I put it on your desk.”
“Okay, thanks.” As I’m about to walk off, I realize that I left my phone in my car. I sit my things back up on the counter, then head for the door. “I gotta go back outside. I left my phone in the car.”
As I’m walking out the door, I see this thug-type nigga standing across the street, looking over in the direction of the salon not too far from where my car is, like he was standing there waiting for someone, or something. I can’t really make out who he is since he has a brown hoodie pulled up over his head—which I think is odd since it’s almost seventy degrees today. Anyway, the nigga looks like he’s up to no good. However, I don’t put too much attention into it.
As soon as I step to the curb waiting for cars to go by, I glance over my shoulder and see Robyn’s man coming outside as well. He speaks. “How long you been working here?”
