Double Dippin' (31 page)

From Tariq’s point of view, it seemed Shane just didn’t like women very much. His brother’s only use for women was for pocket money and sex. Despite Kapri’s beauty and sweetness, Tariq doubted that she could change Shane’s true nature. Shane didn’t mean to hurt the people who loved him, but that’s what he did.

Tariq felt powerless. There was no point in trying to talk either one out of the relationship. Kapri and Shane had become inseparable, and were head over heels. She’d told Tariq she wanted Shane to move in with her, but Shane kept hedging the discussion.

Tariq was relieved that his brother and Kapri maintained separate residences. Living with Shane would bring Kapri nothing but misery. Shane would never settle into a monogamous relationship. He really wished Shane would come to his senses and leave Kapri alone. Couldn’t Shane see that Kapri deserved better? Tariq did not want to witness Kapri’s downfall. Shane had the power to change Kapri from the sweetest girl in the world to a bitter and disillusioned woman. No, Tariq did not want Kapri to experience the unique brand of pain that Shane could dispense without as much as a blink of an eye.

R
everend Bradley’s health was declining rapidly. Desiring to give the parishioners who visited frequently the impression that she was a long-suffering but dutiful wife, Felicia stayed close to home. The good reverend was now kept heavily drugged, thus Shane was often a late-night visitor in Felicia’s bedroom while her husband convalesced in his study downstairs, which had been converted to a bedroom.

Pretending to be the delivery person from a twenty-four-hour pharmacy, Shane rang the bell at the spacious Bradley home. “Oh hi,” Felicia said cheerfully. “I’ve been waiting for the reverend’s medication. Thanks for getting it here so quickly.”

“Who is it, Felicia?” her husband called out in a weak croak.

“It’s the delivery person from the pharmacy. We’re going to go upstairs for a while. I want to count your pills and make sure they’re all here.”

“That’s good. Don’t let those people cheat us.”

“I won’t. Now, you go back to sleep, darling.”

A few seconds later, Shane could hear the ailing reverend’s raspy snores.

Shane and Felicia had developed a very close relationship, but she maintained her position—sexual release was all she wanted from him. A type of sexual release that the average man wouldn’t understand.

Shane didn’t pass judgment; he had his own demons to deal with. What he liked about Felicia was that she wasn’t clingy or needy; she didn’t require pillow talk after having sex. She got straight to the point, got her freak on, and didn’t mind when Shane hastily dressed so he could be on his way.

Now, there were times when she wanted to see him more than once a day,
but that had nothing to do with an emotional attachment to him. That was just the freaky deaky coming out in her. Shane also liked the fact that Felicia never expected freebies. She paid for every session and never haggled over the price.

Felicia stripped naked within seconds. Shane had grown accustomed to her muscular body. It no longer bothered him. Besides, Felicia hardly ever wanted to fuck in the traditional manner.

She strode over to the closet and pulled out a four-inch-wide black leather belt and then sauntered over to the bed, passed the belt to Shane and lay on her back.

“Why ain’t you laying on your stomach?” Shane asked.

“I’m in the mood for something different.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“My pussy needs a whipping.” She spoke in a manner that was as cool and detached as if she were instructing someone to mow her lawn.

Shane’s lips stretched into an uncomfortable smile of disbelief. “You’re kiddin’.”

“I kid you not.” She propped her head up on two pillows and closed her eyes as she blissfully awaited the first blow.

Grimacing, Shane held the belt awkwardly. “Hard? You want me to hit your thing, hard?”

Felicia opened her eyes. “Shane, my husband’s medication is going to wear off in a half hour, so our time together is limited. The reverend is going to be crying out in pain and calling my name. I deserve some pleasure until then; that’s what I pay you for.”

“I’m just saying…you throwing me off with this. I ain’t never beat on no pussy before. I mean…damn. That ain’t my twist.”

“Shane,” she said with a sigh. “Stop wasting time.”

“Well, how you want me to do it?”

“You can start softly—a series of soft smacks that increase in intensity with each blow. You’re not to stop until I cum. Understand?”

Damn, Felicia was more throwed off than Shane had realized. He needed to be getting some extra cheddar for this freaky shit.

Felicia settled back into her position and Shane hit her hairy vagina with the belt. The hair of her mons cushioned the blow.

“Harder,” she whispered as she gyrated as if being fucked.

Wanting to get it over with quickly, Shane put a little more strength into the next blow.

Felicia cried out and then began to thrust her pelvis upward, gyrating and breathing hard as she awaited the next thrash.

Shane hit her again and this time he almost passed out from shock. All of a sudden, Felicia’s clit popped out of her pussy as if awakened from the dead. Her clit looked unusually long—like a small finger, protruding from her vagina.

Shane actually wanted to drop the belt and bolt, but Felicia was panting and demanding that he now beat her clit. He hit it softly. It turned red and looked swollen and now resembled the first joint of a thumb.

“Harder!”

Repulsed to the point of anger, Shane lit up Felicia’s clit with a rapid series of slaps. When she reared up and hollered, “I’m cumming!” Shane had never felt more relieved.

Felicia squeezed her legs together, her body jerked in orgasmic spasms. Her protrusive clit had increased to the size of a small penis.

Had Felicia’s little dick-looking clit suddenly started shooting off and ejaculating like a man, Shane would have had no choice but to kick her ass. Damn, she was a weird bitch. He wondered if she was on steroids.

“The money’s in the bathroom,” she said in the throaty voice of a sexually satisfied woman.

The money—six fifty-dollar bills—was neatly placed on the toilet top. Shane hated the way she always left his money on top of the toilet. It was disrespectful. Like he was such a lowlife, she couldn’t bring herself to pay him in a normal manner, such as putting the cash in his hand or even putting it on the dresser. He felt like she was calling him a ho of the worst type—like he was one of those dudes that hung out in public rest rooms trying to get laid.
Whatever. Fuck Felicia and her buffed-up masculine ass!

Not wanting to be anywhere in the vicinity when her old man woke up yelling from pain, Shane pocketed the money and made a quick exit.

Shane spent more time at Kapri’s apartment than he did at his own crib. There were too many sad reminders at his apartment—his mom’s Bible was the most painful. Had he been able to give her a proper burial, he would have put her Bible in the casket with her. The way she went out wasn’t right. Feeling tearful, Shane rushed to change clothes and drop off some of the money he’d gotten from Felicia.

On his way to Kapri’s, he purchased a twenty-dollar bag of weed and two blunts.

Kapri had let Shane know that she didn’t approve of his smoking weed. She wasn’t aware that he occasionally snorted coke as well. Had she known that he dabbled, Kapri would probably start trippin’ and try to get him to enter a rehab. Shane laughed to himself at the idea of being in rehab. Then his expression turned serious.

Kapri loved him. And being loved felt good. Hell, he loved her, too. He loved her enough to wife her. Shane smiled, imagining himself married to Kapri. It wasn’t a bad idea. But not right now. He still had a lot of running around to do—there were too many pocketbooks still out there that he needed to get into. But he was certain he’d be ready to settle down with Kapri in another couple of years.

Driving Kapri’s Mazda, Shane called her from his cell. “You want me to pick up anything from the store?”

“Haagen-Dazs ice cream,” Kapri responded. “Caramel Cone.”

“Aiight. You want the big one or the small size?”

“All I need is a single serving. I’m not trying to get fat!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with that. If you get fat, I’ll love you more.”

“Yeah, right,” Kapri replied, having no idea that Shane was dead serious.

Later, in bed, Kapri ate ice cream while Shane smoked a blunt and watched the lions ravage the zebras on the National Geographic channel.

“Baby,” she said softly.

“Uh huh,” he responded absently, eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I missed my period; I might be pregnant. I’m not sure.”

Shane jerked his head away from the TV. “Pregnant? Already?”

Kapri looked afraid. “But…I’m not sure.”

“When you gon’ find out?”

“I took a home pregnancy test, but it could be wrong. I have a doctor’s appointment. Next Monday.”

Shane was quiet.

“Are you upset?”

“I don’t know how I feel. I know I’m nervous. Shit, on the real…I’m scared to death,” he told her with a forced smile.

Kapri held out her arms and Shane eased into her embrace. He loved her softness and her warmth.

“What are you afraid of, Shane?”

“I’m not even gonna front, Kapri. I don’t know how to be a father. I don’t have the slightest idea. I wasn’t raised by a father; don’t even know who the dude is.”

“I’m scared, too. Do you think I know how to be a mother?” Kapri said with a nervous giggle. “The important thing is that we both know how to love. I love you, Shane, and I’m going to love your child with all my heart.”

Shane wrapped his arms around Kapri. “I gotchu, baby girl. If you’re pregnant, we’re gon’ do this thing together. Live together—get married, whatever. I’ll even work at that back-breaking moving company. Aiight?”

Kapri nodded and snuggled up next to him. He handed her the remote. It was an act of love; he knew she didn’t share his enjoyment of watching animals rip each other to shreds. Bloodshed and mayhem were definitely not Kapri’s twist.

T
hree months later, Shane and a pregnant Kapri got married at City Hall. For the first time since Dolores Holmes’s death, Shane felt a true sense of belonging. He promised himself he’d be a good father and husband. He loved Kapri with all his heart. She made him feel whole. Normal. Being with her kept his demons at bay. He gave up all his other women, including the affluent Felicia Bradley.

Misty was long gone. Out of his life. They were too much alike. Both were big-time scam artists. But after Misty had tried to con him into a threesome with Brick, Shane had to question her sanity. He felt disgust. That shit was sick, she’d gone too far. Misty was the bomb, but she always tried to take shit to the next level, never knew when to quit.

He shook his head, reminiscing about how Misty had gone ballistic in the bar when he bought that chick Nina a drink. If Misty had the slightest notion that Shane had caught feelings for Kapri, she’d transform into a wildcat so fierce, she’d be clawing at Kapri’s throat. Had Misty been aware that Shane had gone so far as to get married, there was no doubt in Shane’s mind, Misty would be plotting murder. A double murder. With Brick by her side, she’d be out to kill both him and Kapri.

There was no room in his life for his former partners in crime. He was out of the game. He was now walking the straight and narrow, a working man, a married man, soon to be a father.
Now that’s some deep shit
. Shane shook his head in wonder.

A few hours after the wedding, Tariq helped Shane move some of his belongings
out of the furnished apartment he’d shared with their foster mother. “You want the TV, man?” Shane asked Tariq.

“You’re kiddin’. You don’t want your wide screen?”

Shane shook his head. “Too many memories. Besides, Kapri has two of those plasma jawns. I’m straight.”

“Thanks, bro. This should put a smile on Janelle’s face. We can put our TV in the baby’s room. Lil’ Man loves watching
Sesame Street, Sponge Bob—
all those kiddy shows.”

“Aiight. That’s whassup. My little nephew can chill with his bottle and watch his programs in private. Who knows. Lil’ Man might be hitting the remote trying to check out the porno flicks,” Shane said, laughing.

“Lil’ Man might be chillin’, but it won’t be with a bottle. The only thing he drinks out of a bottle is water and he rarely wants to drink that.” Tariq scowled and spoke in a whisper. “Janelle’s still breastfeeding Lil’ Man.” Tariq shook his head. “Can you believe it? Our son is a year old and I keep telling her it’s time to put him on a bottle or let him drink out of one of those baby cups, but she won’t. I don’t like it. What do you think I should do, man?”

Shane was uncomfortably aware that Tariq expected a response from him. He knew his brother was waiting for him to express feelings of indignation or anger. But all Shane could do was shrug.

“Don’t you think that’s strange?” Tariq asked his brother.

Shane frowned and shrugged, but didn’t say anything.