Page 12 of All About The Money

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“Oh yeah,” he said and did what amounted to a giggle.

By the time I got the condom out of its package, Douglas’s dick was hard and his pants were down around his ankles. Once I got the condom on him there was no caressing, no gentle touching or foreplay. Douglas spun me around, bent me over the edge of the couch again, and rammed himself into me. He banged me like he had something on his mind and the work he put in with me might help make things better.

When Douglas grabbed the back of my hair and slammed himself into me deeper, I wanted to howl out in pain, but I bit my lip and dug into the sofa’s upholstery.

“Emmm, you are gorgeous!” he squealed. He grabbed my waist, holding me in place before slamming into me again. After the sofa, Douglas took me on the coffee table, a nearby sofa table with my leg hiked up on one side, and then again on the floor.

When we were done, I thought he might want to relax on the bed and catch his breath, but he didn’t. I watched as he picked up his discarded clothes and went in search of the restroom. Ten minutes later, a fully dressed Douglas was standing in front of me. “I like you. Tell Sasha we need to see each other again,” he said.

Before I could think of what else to say, he was gone. I picked up the money he had given me and counted it. My fee was fifteen hundred dollars. I counted it again and realized there was an extra three hundred dollars there. I saw that as a bonus Sasha didn’t need to know about. She and I had worked out a deal. My fee for use of her connections was twenty-five percent, until she thought I was ready to do my own thing.

Sasha had two hotels we used for our business. And it was simple really. I’d go to the Peninsula about twice a month, and that was always my favorite. In the past six months, I had seen Douglas twice since our last encounter. During that time I was starting to get the hang of things. I knew what to expect in most, if not all situations, and was very comfortable with myself and what I was doing.

I was at home one afternoon when my BlackBerry rang. I reached for it and answered without checking caller ID. It was Diane. I hadn’t seen or talked to her since I stopped working at the club. She and I tried to keep in touch with one another, but we had been playing phone tag for months.

“Well, it?

??s about damn time you actually answered the fuckin’ phone. A bitch been tryin’ to call your ass for mo’ than a minute,” Diane’s voice rang out in my ear.

“I swear I was just gonna call you,” I quickly defended.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bitch. What’s been up wit you?”

“Nothing much.”

“Cut the bullshit, Jada. Creme told me she saw you pushin’ a new big-body Benz. Bitch, I need to know what you been doin’! And let’s not even talk ’bout how your ass just bounced and been MIA for months now!” she hollered.

“I know, I know,” I said.

“You know my nosy ass; I gots to know what the fuck is up wit all that. I wanna know what you been up to. I mean, you hit the numbers or something?” she asked, bringing back memories of a similar conversation I had had with her.

My other cell rang and I checked to see Sasha’s number flashing across the screen. “Dee, I need to grab that, but I swear we’ll get together soon. I promise,” I said, wanting her to hurry and hang up because Sasha was calling with information about my appointment for the evening.

“If you don’t call me back, I swear-fo’-God, bitch, I’ma hunt your ass down like a runaway slave,” she testified.

“Dee, I’m gonna call you back, I swear!”

My heart was racing at the thought of missing Sasha’s call, but luckily, Diane let me go. “Hey, Sasha,” I said.

“Randolph is meeting you at the Peninsula at nine,” she said.

“Are we going out?”

“No, he wants a romantic evening in. He mentioned something about pay-per-view movies in the room and all. Oh, he wants you in a teddy and high-heeled slippers,” she informed me.

“Okay, cool.”

“Remember, ease up on the slang. Remember, classy and elegant, not ghetto and fabulous,” she warned before hanging up. I had already learned a lot from her.

Six months after that, I felt I had a nice little list of my own clientele. Sasha and I had agreed when the time came for me to venture out on my own, we’d talk about it, so there wouldn’t be any kind of hard feelings. That talk was to take place at The Pen-Top Bar amp; Terrace inside the Peninsula Hotel.

When Sasha arrived we ordered drinks and some food. I had marinated shrimp cocktail with Marie Rose sauce, while Sasha ordered sushi and sashimi with wasabi, pickled ginger and soy sauce. “How’d it go last night?” she asked, sipping a Blue Crystal: a drink made with Beefeater Gin, Triple Sec, and a splash of Blue Curacao. I had a Godiva Chocolate Martini made with Absolute vanilla, Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur, and cream.

“Everything went fine,” I said and discretely handed Sasha her cut of my money for the last time.

Sasha took the money and put it in her purse before taking a sip of her drink. “You know I just absolutely love the view from up here,” she said.

“I know what you mean. It makes me feel like I’m on top of the world,” I said.


Tags: Roy Glenn Crime