She held on to my hands, but her shoulders dropped. “I need a fucking life whisperer. The only damn thing I’m good at is Evans business, and if the men had anything to say about it, me having a pussy would disqualify me from running the business. As soon as Uncle Raymond handed me the keys to the kingdom, they decided they wanted to let their nuts hang out. Dealing with those chauvinistic bastards keeps me on edge and makes my fucking trigger finger itch.”
She leaned in, her eyes scanning the restaurant before they landed on mine. “I think that’s why I can’t commit or find a good man to lay up with for more than one night. Too much day-to-day exposure to all that testosterone has eaten away my feminine sensibility where relationships are concerned. Hell, most times, I find myself acting like the very thing that gets on my damn nerves.”
“You ever considered that maybe you haven’t met the right man? Or what if you’ve met the right one and you didn’t stay with him long enough to find out? Khane could be your Mr. Right.”
She shook her head. “Trust me, my dear sweet cousin, I haven’t even met him in person, and I know he isn’t. I love you, Des, God knows I do, but if you think white chocolate is my Mr. Right, you’ve been reading from the wrong books.”
She shook her head, a big fake smile on her lips as she eye-pitied me.
“Sometimes, you’re too open-minded. You’ll probably be in love with that future husband of yours within the first weeks of your marriage. Probably going to end up with a Vallin baby in your belly within a few months, give or take a week.”
“What’s wrong with that? You haven’t seen these Vallin brothers in person. We could do worse, you know.”
I paused to lick my lips, and God help me, it wasn’t Arjen that popped into my brain.
“That good, hah? I haven’t seen them in person, but if they look like that face you just made, at least I’ll have something good to look at. But, you know me, Des. I need me a big hunk of chocolate with a Mandingo dick to bang my damn back out. Too bad finding one is about as difficult as finding ice cubes in hell. But, I’m persistent. I haven’t given up yet.”
Mecca thought outside the box when it came to business and navigating the street life. It was what fed into her success, yet she was unwilling to extend the same openness when it came to relationships.
“Love has no color. Don’t knock the white chocolate until you’ve tried it. You take your coffee with cream and you like it, don’t you?”
Her low chuckle was brimming with amusement. “Sometimes, I wish I had your optimism, but once I marry Mr. Animal Kannibal, there isn’t going to be any creaming of my coffee. He’ll be allowed to go out and dick down whoever he wants, and I’ll keep searching for my own personal sex warrior.”
My cousin expressed her desires with her sexual partners and would often make me blush when she’d tell me the things she requested from some of them. Like asking them to eat her ass whenever they messed up eating her kitty. You’re stumbling through the front door, so take your ass through the back is what she’d tell them. Her outlandish statements would set me off in a fit of laughter every time.
We were in the same boat, therefore it didn’t matter how either of us handled our sexual situations. We didn’t have good luck with love and relationships. Instead of talking about all of the good sex we’d been enjoying throughout our twenties, we often compared horror stories.
“One day, we are going to find the right men that will satisfy all our needs, wants, and desires. You are going to find you one that is going to put a permanent curve in your spine, maybe even uproot some of your hair.”
“Damn right,” she replied. “He knows I’m looking for him. He’s close. I can feel it.” She sniffed the air like she could smell him.
We laughed until Mecca’s eyes flashed a hint of pity in my direction. She knew I had trouble achieving orgasm and would often get frustrated during sex and fake them to get the act over with quicker.
She leaned across the table, her face fixed in determination. “I told you to tell them weak motherfuckers what you want. You can’t let them control the whole act. Their egos will have them thinking they are doing the damn thing, when they’re hardly even scratching your itch. If I’m going to get wet and ready, the least they can do is get me off.”
She pointed a stiff finger in my direction. “I told you a closed mouth is going to leave your pussy starving.”
My laughter burst free, shaking my chest and closing my eyes. The customers at the next table, a middle-aged Caucasian couple, were glaring in our faces. The man had leaned into our conversation, getting his ears filled. Mecca glanced in their direction when she sensed their gazes, staring them down.
“You never heard two single women talking about dick before? Turn the hell around unless you plan on giving us advice.” She sat staring and waiting to hear the advice if they had any to offer.
Mecca was straight hood, but what people would never know from the way she acted sometimes was that she had earned a bachelor’s degree in business, having graduated magna cum laude from UCLA. She always said and continued to say, that people were going to judge her anyway, so why not give them something to judge her for.
My face rested in my palms as I peeked at the couple through my fingers. Instead of gasping at Mecca’s rude comment, the woman and man offered friendly smiles.
The man turned his chair to see us better as the woman turned her body to us. “All you have to do is make him chase you. Find a way to make him think that you’re a precious commodity that he has to have, can’t live without, and I guarantee you will have him eating out of the palm of your hands.”
The man’s comments had our brows lifting in intrigue, and Mecca glanced at the wife. “Is that what you did to him?”
“Yes,” the woman replied with a giggle. “I always kept myself just out of reach, making him wait and appreciate every moment he ever got with me. And here we are, thirty-eight years later.” Mecca lifted her hand to high-five the woman, who was so eager to return the gesture, she almost missed Mecca’s hand.
“So, I need to apply a little technique to my game. I don’t plan on lowering my standards for these sexually-illiterate fools, but what you’re saying is I don’t have to be thottin’ and boppin’ in these streets to catch a man?” The man and woman glared at each other and nodded their heads to answer her question, although I was sure they had no idea what thottin’ and boppin’ was.
“I’m sorry we spied on your conversation. You ladies enjoy the rest of your dinner. We hope true love finds you two and keeps you in good company.”
“Thank you,” we replied together as the couple turned back to their meals.
“What was I saying?” Mecca asked, talking more to herself than me. “Yeah, if the dirtbags are going to get you dirty, at least get something out of it.”
She leaned in, face turning deadly serious. “You know I’ll always have your back, Des, even with our Vallin bodyguards.”
For years, she had been forming her own little network right under my father’s nose. All women, all with certain skill sets that allowed Mecca to turn the wheels of many wrong turns my father had made. She had been saving his ass for years, and most of the time, he didn’t even know it.
“Thanks, Mecca.” I didn’t want my cousin endangering her life to keep an eye on me when she had so much more on her plate, but I knew if I suggested she not do it, she wouldn’t listen.
We continued, engaging each other in vibrant conversation through our dinner, and a little spark would flare to life every time I sensed Khane’s eyes on me.
Why was I getting a sick level of satisfaction from knowing he had me in his sights?