Material Girl (14 page)
Authors: Keisha Ervin
“Fuck ’em Girl! Come back to Mommy! Come here, baby.” Dylan clapped her hands.
Frantically, she walked up the street and turned the corner. She prayed that at any moment she would spot her friend, her companion and comforter, but instead she was left with no dog and the empty sound from the echo of her voice.
“Fuck ’em Girl!” she wailed, with tears flooding her eyes. “Fuck ’em Girl!”
If Dylan weren’t afraid of how the people around her would react, she would have just lay out on the sidewalk and cried. Her day was getting worse by the minute. No way in one day could the person she hoped would one day be “the one” tell her that she was never the one for him, and then she loses her dog.
Like, am I being punished?
she thought as a couple eating outside at one of the restaurants eyed her in fear. Dylan stood crying hysterically. Tears rolled down her cheeks at the speed rain fell from the sky. On the verge of a nervous breakdown, she retrieved her cell phone from her purse and called Billie.
she thought as a couple eating outside at one of the restaurants eyed her in fear. Dylan stood crying hysterically. Tears rolled down her cheeks at the speed rain fell from the sky. On the verge of a nervous breakdown, she retrieved her cell phone from her purse and called Billie.
“What up?” Angel answered.
“Hey, is Billie there?” Dylan sniffed.
“Nah, what’s wrong?” Angel asked, noticing the sound of distress in her voice.
“I was taking Fuck ’em Gurl for a walk and somehow I accidently let the leash go, and now I can’t find her.”
“Where you at?” Angel, without hesitation, got up and grabbed his keys.
“Around the corner from my place, by Liluma.”
“Calm down. I’ll be there in a second.”
“Okay.”
Ten minutes later, Angel arrived. Thunder struck the sky as he stepped out of his car. Brisk drops of rain fell onto his face and shoulders. Dylan stood soaking wet. Angel had never seen such a beautiful sight in all his days. The dress she wore clung to her skin like body paint, revealing her hard nipples and the outline of her waist and hips. Every ounce of him wanted to wrap her up in his arms and kiss all of her pain away, but the look of sorrow in her eyes told him that her pain went deeper than just losing her dog.
Unsure of what to say, Angel stood before her with his hands inside his pocket while the rain made love to their skin. Before he knew it, Dylan’s arms were around his waist and her face rested comfortably on his chest as tears from her eyes mixed with the rain. Dylan was so distraught that her chest heaved up and down. She’d cried a couple of times since returning from L.A., but each time, it was just a tear here and there. This was the cry that her body needed to feel whole again.
Angel placed his cheek on the top of her head and held her close to his heart. Nothing else seemed to matter. The world had somehow disappeared. The sound of the rain played as their background. Angel stroked her hair and realized that he could hold her that way forever.
Once Dylan calmed down, she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace and gazed down at the ground. “My bad. I ain’t mean to . . . do all that.” She wiped the rain and tears from her face.
“What’s on the ground?” Angel placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her head. “I’m right here.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Sorry.” Dylan caught herself and laughed.
“C’mon.” Angel extended his hand.
“Where we going?” She placed her hand in his and noticed how well they fit together.
“To find this dog.”
After searching the area for nearly two hours, Dylan and Angel finally gave up and decided to head back to her place.
“Excuse me,” a woman said as they approached Dylan’s building.
“Yes?” Dylan spun around.
“Is this your dog?”
“Oh my God, yes!” Dylan screeched, running toward the woman.
“I found her in front of my store.” She handed over Fuck ’em Gurl.
“Thank you so much.” Dylan took her and hugged her tight. “How can I repay you?”
“Your thanks is enough. You two have a good evening.” The woman smiled and walked away.
“Mommy’s so sorry for letting you go.” Dylan kissed Fuck ’em Gurl all over her face.
“You happy now?” Angel smiled, happy to see her happy.
“Yes,” she beamed.
“Good . . . now, how you gon’ repay me?” He cocked his head to the side and admired her frame.
Dylan swallowed hard, licked her bottom lip, and said, “What you want?”
“What you givin’?” Angel slid his hands back inside his pockets.
Dylan’s eyes zoomed in on his crotch. The bulge in his pants let it be known he was working with a python. “A dryer, a hot bath, and something to eat.” She refocused her vision back on his face.
“A’ight, I see how you do, but it’s cool. I’ll take that.”
Back inside her apartment, Dylan let Fuck ’em Gurl run loose while she searched the place for towels. She had no idea where Consuela kept that kind of stuff. When it was time for her to bathe, they always seemed to just magically appear. After ten minutes, she found the towels in a closet on the first floor.
“Here you go.” She walked into her room and handed one to Angel.
“Thanks. Now I can get out these wet-ass clothes.” He placed the towel down and began to undress.
Dylan didn’t know if she should turn her head, shield her eyes, or walk away, but the sight of his succulent skin kept her frozen in place. As Angel pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing two chiseled pecs, and six rows of perfectly crafted abs that she wanted to eat off of, Dylan ran her tongue across her lower lip, wishing that her lip was his.
Then he did the unthinkable and unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor. The Ken-doll slits that defined his waist called her name. Dylan swallowed hard.
This niggah is not playin’ fair,
she thought as he wrapped his towel around his waist and took off his boxer briefs. Thoughts of falling to her knees and taking him into her warm mouth filled her mind. The towel couldn’t hide how long, how big, or how thick he was. Dylan wanted all of him. Whatever he desired, she wanted to fulfill with her mouth, lips, and tongue.
This niggah is not playin’ fair,
she thought as he wrapped his towel around his waist and took off his boxer briefs. Thoughts of falling to her knees and taking him into her warm mouth filled her mind. The towel couldn’t hide how long, how big, or how thick he was. Dylan wanted all of him. Whatever he desired, she wanted to fulfill with her mouth, lips, and tongue.
“I’m gettin’ ready to get in the shower.” Angel handed her his things, oblivious to his effect on her.
“Okay, I’ll be right here.” She pointed to the bed. “Just let me know if you need anything else,” she spoke, trying to recapture her breath.
“A’ight.” He looked at her strangely.
Dylan held his things in her hands and waited until she heard the sound of the shower running. She didn’t have the heart or courage to tell him that she didn’t know how to wash clothes. Angel clowning her was the last thing she needed, so she ran down the hall to the guestroom and hung his clothes over the shower door so they could air dry.
“Here.” She handed Angel a pair of hoopin’ shorts once he got out of the shower. “And by the way, they’re mine, so don’t go tellin’ my secret. Billie and Tee-Tee would clown me if they knew.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” He smiled, charmed by her sudden girl-next-door appeal.
After hopping out of the shower, Dylan put on an oversized T-shirt and lace boy shorts. Smelling like fresh raspberries, she walked out of the bathroom and found Angel sitting on the edge of her bed, watching television. The hypnotic scent radiating from her skin prompted him to look her way. Dylan was a vision of bliss. When she wasn’t trying so hard to be the flyest chick in the room, she looked her best.
She didn’t need M•A•C makeup, Roberto Cavalli dresses, or Stuart Weitzman heels to make her beautiful. The almond shape of her eyes, dazzling smile, small waist, juicy thighs, and delicate toes said it all. She was the shit, and none of the stuff she had piled in her closet was needed to prove it.
“Scoot over.” Dylan pulled back the covers.
“Why?” Angel eyed her, confused.
“’Cause this is my side of the bed.” She grinned.
“My fault.” He got up and headed to the other side.
Comfortably under the covers with the lights off, they watched TV. Dylan wasn’t sure if she should lay still or pull his dick out and suck it. She’d never, in her twenty-eight years on earth, just lay in bed with a man without some kind of sexual encounter going on. On edge from the silence and sexual tension that filled the room, Dylan pulled out her iPod.
“You wanna listen to some music?”
“Yeah.” Angel turned off the TV.
As their legs touched, Dylan gave Angel one end of the earphones and placed the other inside her ear.
“I hope we like the same kind of music,” she said.
“Just don’t get to playin’ a bunch of crazy shit and we cool,” he assured.
“Okay.” Dylan laughed, turning on Jay Electronica’s “Exhibit C.”
“A’ight.” Angel bobbed his head. “That’s what’s up. I ain’t think you would know nothin’ about him.”
“Boy, please. You talkin’ to a faithful hip-hop head.”
“Let’s see what else you got.”
“Okay.” Dylan flipped to Blu & Exile, “Cold Hearted.”
“You think you doing something, huh?” Angel turned his head and looked at her.
“I thought I told you I was hot,” she joked.
“I bet you ain’t got that ‘Dreams’ by J. Cole,” he challenged.
“See, you got me fucked up.” Dylan played the song.
“A’ight, Dylan, I fucks wit’ you on the music tip. Who woulda knew we had something in common?”
“There is more to me than my love of couture.”
“But that’s all you show, though.”
“You’re right.” Dylan nodded. “I guess that’s something I need to work on.”
“Yo’, you wanna go to this party wit’ me next week? My homey Bigg is celebrating his company’s five-year anniversary.”
“Yeah, I love a good party.”
“Cool. I meant to ask you earlier, but it wasn’t the right time. What else was bothering you?” Angel quizzed. “I know losing your dog had you fucked up, but it seemed like it was something more behind your tears.”
“I met with State today.” Dylan inhaled deeply. “He finally told me everything I needed to know.”
“So, what now?”
“Nothing. He’s with his wife and I’m moving on.” She tried to convince herself to believe her words.
“Good. Who knows what God might have in store for you?” Angel said, speaking of himself.
“You’re fly as hell, swagger right, brown skin poppin’.”
—Keri Hilson, “Turnin’ Me On”
Chapter 14
Never the one to be viewed as a thirsty chick, Dylan opted not to ride with Angel and had her driver drop her off at the Mandarin Lounge. The red carpet was on and in full effect as she made her way down. Everyone wanted a piece of her. The photographers had a field day as she twisted and turned, blowing kisses. There wasn’t a camera that Dylan didn’t love. She was having so much fun that she almost forgot she had an event to attend. After taking a few more pics, she blew the photographers one last kiss over her shoulder then headed inside.
Anybody that was somebody in St. Louis was there. Cash kings the Roberts brothers, fashionista Kimora Lee Simmons, and Jack Dorsey, the founder of Twitter, were all in attendance. With her brand new $495 neon yellow candy acrylic clutch by Jimmy Choo in hand, which she’d bought with a bad check, Dylan walked the room in search of Angel. She found him on the rooftop, sitting on a couch surrounded by women of all different races. The famous rap line by Biggie—
I like ’em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian
—came to mind as Dylan screwed up her face, already annoyed. She did not come for him to be flocked by a bunch of ducks all night. For a split second, she thought about leaving, but Dylan quickly checked herself.
I like ’em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian
—came to mind as Dylan screwed up her face, already annoyed. She did not come for him to be flocked by a bunch of ducks all night. For a split second, she thought about leaving, but Dylan quickly checked herself.
This thing with State and Ashton really had her off her game. Dylan Monroe wasn’t just that bitch; she was the queen bitch. A squawk of desperate, gold-digging pigeons wasn’t gonna scare her off. With her shoulders back, she strutted toward Angel like she was the winner of
America
’s
Next Top Model.
It didn’t take much for him to notice her. When Dylan entered a room, she commanded attention. Plus, the sleeveless sequined mini dress she wore put every other chick’s attire to shame.
America
’s
Next Top Model.
It didn’t take much for him to notice her. When Dylan entered a room, she commanded attention. Plus, the sleeveless sequined mini dress she wore put every other chick’s attire to shame.
Like most women, when dealing with a bad breakup, Dylan decided to do something drastic with her look. The asymmetrical bob she’d been rockin’ was a thing of the past. Now she rocked her hair back and the left side of her head shaved low. The rest was cut just above her ear and flat-ironed straight.
Angel didn’t look too bad himself. He was casually dressed in a grey cashmere cardigan, white tee, dark blue jeans that sagged low, and gray-and-blue Dior Homme sneakers.
“Wassup, beautiful?” He stood up to greet her with a hug.
“You.” She took in his swagger. “I see you shining,” she said, referring to the sea of women.
“That’s nothing. C’mon, let’s get a drink.”
Angel didn’t even bother telling the women good-bye.
“What you want to drink?” he asked her as they stood at the bar.
“Um, I’ll take an X-Rated Flirtini, please.”
“Cool. Baby girl,” he said to the bartender, “let me get an X-Rated Flirtini and a Hennessy and Coke.”
“Anything for you, sexy.” The bartender smiled, licking her lips.
“OMFG.” Dylan rolled her eyes. “This is ri-damn-diculous.” She couldn’t stand how chicks went “cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” over Angel.
With their drinks in hand, Angel and Dylan found a table off in the cut and sat down.
“So, tell me,” Dylan spoke up. “Are you always this cool, or do you ever show fear?”
“You have to understand; being fearless is a part of my job,” Angel replied.
“So, nothing scares you?”
“Nope.” He looked off to the side.
“That’s a lie.” She pointed her finger at him. “Everybody’s afraid of something. Is it spiders?”
“I’m good with spiders.”
“Failure?”
“Not a problem.”
“Flying?”
Angel turned his head and grinned.
“Oh my God, you’re afraid of flying?” Dylan exclaimed with her mouth wide open. She enjoyed seeing a hint of innocence in him.
“Yep, but don’t go runnin’ your mouth about it.”
“I won’t; that is, unless you piss me off,” she joked.
“What are you afraid of?”
Dylan thought for a moment before speaking. “Calm.”
“Before the storm?” he questioned.
“Nah . . . the storm I can weather.”
Angel was put off by her confession, but admired her honesty.
“C’mon.” He stood up and placed out his hand.
“What?” She looked at him perplexed.
“Come dance wit’ me.”
Angel didn’t have to say another word. The dance floor had been calling Dylan’s name since she got there. Three drinks and countless time on the dance floor later, Dylan and Angel danced cheek to cheek to Musiq Soulchild’s soul-stirring hit, “Take You There.” All of his adult life, Angel had avoided being the rebound guy, because he was a strong believer that how you began things would be how they would end, but unexpectedly, Dylan had captured his undivided attention. With each day that passed, it became increasingly hard for him to ignore the feelings of intrigue that his heart wanted to explore.
Common sense was telling him to take things slow, but the dangerous combination of her beauty and a couple glasses of Hen only put one thing on his mind, which was sex. He wanted to take her back to his hotel suite and lay her body down. He wanted to stare at her body while she was naked. He wanted to make her pussy bloom with every lick of his tongue. He wanted to hear her scream his name while he pulled her hair from behind.
Angel gazed deep into her hazel eyes. Dylan inhaled deeply. Everything he wanted, she wanted more. She wanted to drown in his sweat, to hold onto his back while he grinded in and out of her slowly. Neither could deny the attraction they shared anymore. It was undeniable. Before Dylan knew it, they were back at his hotel room, outside the door.
Angel couldn’t wait a second longer. It was time to speed up the pace. He had to have her right then and there. Dylan stood pinned up against the door, helpless. Angel had her feeling things she shouldn’t, like could this be the start of something new, and if so, would it last forever? At the same time, she hated that when he whispered in her ear, she came alive, and that she ached for the touch of his hand.
Leaning forward, Angel placed his nose in the crook of her neck. Chills ran up Dylan’s spine as she closed her eyes and felt his tongue lightly slide up her neck to her earlobe. She wanted him deep inside her to the point that he would fill her up. On his knees, Angel pushed up her dress and ripped off her G-string.
“What you doing?” Dylan looked on in agony.
“Be quiet,” he demanded. “You talk too much.” Angel placed her thighs on his shoulders.
Pulling her close, he buried his tongue deep within the lips of her pussy. There was no other place in the world Angel would rather be than inside her dress and between her knees. In a snakelike motion, he swirled the tip of his tongue around her clit until her back arched. Dylan was so aroused that she unknowingly began to rotate her hips.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, yes,” she groaned, running her hands up and down the door.
Making sure she knew it was not a game, Angel zoned in her on her clit and eagerly flicked his tongue across it at lightning speed.
“Shit, babe . . . mmmmmmmm . . . goddamn,” Dylan shrilled in delight.
Nowhere near done torturing her, Angel gripped her waist and stood up. Dylan held on tight and wrapped hers leg around his back. Turned on to the fullest, Angel passionately kissed her lips. He was done with pretending that Dylan was nothing more than his sister’s friend. The connection they shared went deeper, and both of them knew it.
Maybe their first time should’ve been in the sacredness of a bedroom and not outside his penthouse suite door, but honestly, Angel didn’t give a fuck. He’d been waiting half his life for this moment, and nothing was going to stand in his way. Dylan, on the other hand, was scared shitless. She’d done it in a lot of places, but never somewhere as open as a hallway.
Angel could see the fear in her eyes. “You scared?” He antagonized her by dipping his fingers in and out of her warm tunnel at a slow pace.
“No.” She moaned as he worked magic on her exposed clit.
“Stop lyin’.” He grinned before he tenderly kissed her lips.
Dylan was in heaven. The taste of Angel’s lips was as sweet as brown sugar. Enchanted by the friction he was creating in her pelvis, visions of Paris, Italy, Japan, Africa, and Rome flashed before her eyes. By her body movements, Angel knew he had her right where he wanted, so with his thumb, he applied more pressure to her clit. He wasn’t going to stop until warm juices trickled down her inner thigh.
“Shiiiiiit, boy.” She rubbed the back of his head, feeling lost.
Dylan didn’t know whether to sing, hum, beatbox, or rhyme. There was no place for her to run or hide. His hands, lips, and tongue tricks had her trapped.
Ready to dive deep into her abyss, Angel unzipped his jeans. “What you want me to do with this?” he questioned, stroking his hard dick while looking into her eyes.
Unable to resist taking a peek, Dylan glanced down at it. Angel’s manhood was long and fat. It was so big she was almost afraid it wouldn’t fit.
“Put it in.” She trembled, hoping she could handle all of it.
“Put it in and do what?” he asked, repeatedly inserting the tip of his dick deep inside her slit then quickly pulling it back out.
“Fuck me,” Dylan said, feeling delirious.
Obliging her request, Angel entered her slit slowly. She felt so good that it took everything in him for his knees not to buckle. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he roughly stroked her middle. Dylan’s body quaked with each thrust. Angel loved each second of seeing her so powerless. For once, she couldn’t act so tough.
“We still just friends?” he whispered into her ear.
Dylan wanted to play hard and say yes, but she couldn’t. Angel had her all the way open. Anything he requested, she’d gladly give. She’d give him her last dime, fix him grits and bacon, whatever, as long as he didn’t take his dick away.
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.” He cupped her chin and kissed her roughly.
At that point, Dylan didn’t even care if people in the other rooms heard her. She was dizzy with passion. She was so wet. Sweat dripped from her pores as Angel quickened his pace. He was going to give Dylan’s body everything it was worth, which meant all of him. With her arms outstretched over her head, he pounded in and out, thrusting his hips from side to side. Angel was in so deep that Dylan felt as if she were breathing for him. Then suddenly, an orgasm rippled through both of their skin, causing them to call out for God.
Hours later, Dylan sat on Angel’s lap, facing him, outside on his hotel room balcony. Strikes of thunder and rain echoed around them, but they were too caught up in one another to care.
Thirsty, Dylan parted her lips and allowed Angel to pour a shot of tequila into her mouth. Angel took a sip as well. With the bottle of tequila in one hand and Dylan’s right ass cheek in the other, he gazed into her eyes. She reminded him of heaven. The rain dripping from the sky intensified her beauty, but the thought still remained: should he continue to play the field and live the single life, or dedicate all his time and energy to Dylan?
Angel wished the answer was as simple as one-two-three, but it wasn’t. Relationships were a muthafucka, and Dylan had heartbreak written all over her; yet there was something about her that made him want to investigate more.
Rays from the beaming sun shone down onto Dylan’s face as she lay on her stomach, sound asleep. She and Angel had gone at it all night, kissing, sucking, licking, and biting one another. He’d made her cum five times. State never got her to that point of no return. For him, her cumming once was enough. Dylan opened her eyes and welcomed the morning sun. For the first time in a long while, she woke up with a smile on her face.
Enthused to see Angel, she turned over onto her side; except he wasn’t there. In place of him were a pillow and an empty space where he should’ve been. Wondering where he could be, Dylan got up and put on one of the complimentary robes and went to find him. Dylan searched the entire suite but couldn’t find him anywhere.
Did this muthafucka bounce on me?
she wondered.
Did this muthafucka bounce on me?
she wondered.
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