Houston pulled up in front of my apartment building and turned the volume down on the radio to a soft low. The jockey, with his deep baritone voice, reminded me of the late Isaac Hayes when he introduced the next song.
"You're listening to the smooth sounds of the velvet hour with Big Daddy Tyrone Love on your FM dial. 101.3 Reign FM, New York's number one radio station. And for all you fellas out there making tonight all about their ladies, here's a little something to help you set it off," said Tyrone 'Big Daddy' Hamilton.
As soon as I heard the piano intro I immediately recognized the song as 'Maxwell's 'til the cops come knockin'.
"Oh, snap, remember this?" Houston asked. He had a child-like excitement in his voice as he turned the volume up a notch.
"Are you kidding me?" I answered, my excitement nearly matching his. "This was my jam back in the day," I said. The smile on my face spread from ear to ear and with my hands on my chest, I melted into the seat allowing my mind to drift with the music.
"Now, he's a real player," said Houston, smiling as he pointed to his flashy car stereo.
He leaned towards me with what I assumed was his version of a model's pose, something reminiscent of a billboard ad for an expensive designer watch, and I didn't mind his invasion of my personal space one bit. For a second time this summer I found myself in a car with a guy who certainly qualified to grace the cover of a magazine.
To be taken and dominated by a sexy guy in the backseat of his car had always been one of my numerous erotic fantasies. Mr. Houston Greene appeared to have what it would take to fulfill all my erogenous deviations. Good music, some wine in my system, and two hot bodies sweating it out on leather seats in the heat of passion in the back of a car were enough to send this girl over the edge. Given that I was sharing this moment with a man I had secretly lusted over for the past few nights was ice cream on the pie.
I was perceptive to the new opportunity that had presented itself to me and I was not about to let it slip by as I had done with Jaydin. I was taking a big risk by setting aside my vows of prolonged abstinence and allowing my body to speak for itself. Ever since André and the very few other semi-important guys after him, not to mention Karen's constant reminder that today's man had not come far from their primitive Neanderthal counterpart; I had promised myself I would be more careful when it came to the opposite sex.
In all honesty, if things were to go the way I hoped they would tonight, Houston Greene would be the first man I allowed into my safe zone in a year. Needless to say, I was more nervous than a hooker in Sunday school, as my brother Karl would have said. Anxiety was kicking my ass and I found myself caught between the tight space of apprehension and desire. It would take nerves of steel to play it cool, but with the million or so perverse thoughts racing through my mind all at once, it would be only a matter of time before he saw right through my bravado. Hell, I needed this. My body needed this. And my vagina certainly needed what he had to offer. Being this close to him was making my head spin.
"Maxwell could say anything he wanted to a woman and she would care less, as long as it came from him," Houston continued.
I couldn't agree more, I thought.
"Listen to that line—let me rock you, baby, let me love you, baby, let me do you now," he pointed out as Maxwell sang. "You and I both know if I were to use those lines to a woman I wouldn't even get so much as a second glance," he grinned.
Was he fishing for compliments?
"Well, sometimes it's not what you say but how you say it. In your case, you might get lucky," I responded, and cast my gaze in his direction.
YOU ARE READING
THE MAHOGANY EFFECT
RomanceFinding the pleasures he wanted, the way he wanted them, was never a problem for a man like Jaydin Scott, even after being out of the game as long as he had been. Determined to win back the trust of lost love and prove that he can give up old habits...
