Tyhedra looped her arm in mine and we walked back to the stage. “You’re fucking both of them, aren’t you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“You can read a lot into a woman’s body language.”
“Is that a fact? And what did their body language tell you?”
“That you’re fucking the shit outta Linda.”
“Am I really?”
“Yes, you really are. Now the white girl, she ain’t as far gone as Linda. So I guess you didn’t put it on her like you did Linda, but she’s hooked on you, too. If I wasn’t here, she had plans for you tonight.”
“Then I’m glad you were here. For more than one reason,” I added. “I’m gonna go to the dressing room and rest up for the next set.”
“Mind if I come keep you company?”
“Not at all,’ I said, and led Tyhedra to the dressing room.
When we walked in the dressing room, Gordon and Clarence were in there. Tyhedra told them how great they were and we all talked for a while. Then Gordon nudged Clarence. “We’re gonna get a drink.” They got up and heade
d for the door. “We’ll knock before we come in,” Clarence said, and closed the door behind him.
I laughed and so did Tyhedra. “I guess that means it’s safe for us to have sex in here.” Without waiting for me to say anything, she unzipped my pants and took out my hardening dick. She stroked it a few times and lowered her head to it.
I gotta say, the girl had skills.
Then she stood up and gathered her dress around her waist. “You might wanna pull those pants down.”
I quickly did what she said.
“I promise I’ll go easy on you. I know you got another set to play,” Tyhedra said, and got on top of me. She rode me slowly with her hands around my throat until somebody knocked on the door.
“Yeah!” I said.
“We’re on in five minutes, Tee.”
“I’ll be there,” I said, and Tyhedra finished me off.
Chapter Twenty-five
Tyhedra
I walked out of the dressing room and went back to my seat thinking, “What the fuck is going on with me?” I used to be a killer, and now I am little more than some insatiable ho, trying to fuck every man she meets. So, instead of cruising bars late at night for prey to kill, I’m cruising the bars looking for prey to fuck me and try to make me have the kind of orgasm that I get from killing. So far, no good. Each night, I leave more frustrated than before I started.
I’ve been in Atlanta for months now, and to my credit, I’ve only killed twice. The reason for that isn’t so much my self-control, or my feeling the need to stop because it was wrong. None of that. Mr. Kickass was the reason for my change in life. He put the fear of death in me. He made me realize that I was easy prey, too. But it was Mr. Kickass who got me on this current quest for satisfaction. As much sex as I’ve had in the last few weeks, nobody—man or woman—had me feeling the way he had. The only one who even came close was Chris, and he didn’t have me feeling the way Mr. Kickass did.
I thought about what I had just done with Tavarus. I thought about killing him, and I probably would have if somebody didn’t knock on the door. It was good that I didn’t, because when I came out of the dressing room, half of his band was standing there waiting to get back in. They would have gone in, seen Tavarus with his throat cut, and I’d be on the run now. Instead, I was on my way to hunt for prey. Not prey to fuck me and send me home frustrated again. Tonight, Tyhedra was gonna get hers.
Since I had been on hiatus for a while, I wanted to do something a little different. My preferred method of murder was asphyxiation. That was mainly because of the effect that it has on the dick. Usually, I strangle or suffocate my prey, but like I said, I have something a little different in mind. To be honest with you, I had planned on killing somebody before I left the condo tonight. I came prepared.
When I walked in the bar, I turned a few heads as I went and took a seat at the bar. I ordered a drink and while I sipped, I thought about my ho-like behavior of late. Not that I regretted any of it. In fact, I was getting more out of the act than I ever had. I just didn’t climax. But I had had some good sex and I found that I liked it, wanted to do more of it. I wondered if I was becoming a nymphomaniac, because I wanted to do it all the time and it was all that I thought of. I wondered if this was a natural progression to whatever condition I had that made me kill for all these years.
I didn’t care; I was gonna have my type of fun tonight.
I looked around the room and had spotted my prey for the night. He was a tall, good-looking man, very well dressed. I made eye contact with him, and then I got up and went out on the patio. He stopped at the bar and followed me.
“Like nights?” he asked when he approached me.