Two-Time Essence Magazine Best-Selling Author

Copyright Winston Chapman

FIRST EBOOK EDITION

ww w.W i n s t o n C h a p m an . co m

AYANNA ENTERTAINMENT GROUP LLC

Atlanta, Georgia

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Winston Chapman Novel Copyright Winston Chapman All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without the prior written consent of the author/publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast. w w w. W i ns t o nC ha p ma n. c om

Praise for CAUGHT UP! (#2 Essence Magazine Best Seller) Outstanding Debut The book does get you caught up in the plight of the main character from the beginning. If readers are looking for high drama mixed with a glimpse of street life, they can't go wrong by checking this book out.

Review by Zane
NY Times Bestselling Author

Praise for WILD THANGZ (#6 Essence Magazine Best Seller)

Wild Thangz by Winston Chapman is a page-turner from beginning to end! Wild Thangz has it all: Drama, Suspense, Friendship, and Betrayal. The ending will leave you speechless This book is HOT!! one of the best urban dramas that I have read 5 stars!! - PeopleWhoLoveGoodBooks.Com

The Life CHAPTER ONE

I couldnt believe I had gotten myself into this situation. Was old enough to know better. My mom always said The choices you make will determine the quality of your life. I was looking straight in the face at the possibility of losing mine. Or at best the loss of any life that would even remotely be described as quality. Its the middle of the night here I am scantily clad, sitting on a street curb wrapped in a borrowed jacket with the letters APD stenciled on the back, answering a detectives questions. While trying to shield the blinding glare of the squad cars flashing lights.

This dreadful nightmare all began just two years ago. Id stormed out of my mamas house in Des Moines, Iowa -- vowing Id never come back. Took with me the $746.29 Id earned over the past summer working at the same diner that my mom had schlepped greasy food for the past 19 years. Determined Id not be sentenced to that same life, I headed straight to the Greyhound bus station and bought a one-way ticket to Atlanta. Made my choice of city on-the-fly, looking at a US Map, while standing in line at the ticket counter. Chose Atlanta because it was one of the places I was sure Id connect with my roots. People who look like me. Understand me. Relate to me. Thought about Chicago -- too dirty. Thought about New York -- too big. Washington D.C. was too hard to figure out, where it actually was on the map. Besides, Atlanta was a warm weather city. And, it didnt hurt that it was so close to Florida.

As a black girl growing up in Des Moines, I never felt I belonged. Felt like a permanent guest everywhere Id go. Being adopted didnt help. And being

adopted by a white woman helped even less. Not to mention, I was obviously a product of an interracial relationship. Though, everyone in town seemed to try to help me belong. It was just that, their need to make me feel at home, made me feel that much more like an outsider -- the Special Negro. My soul and spirit, not to mention my smile had grown weary of pretending that I didnt feel different from everyone else. So, that was it. I decided I had to get out of there. After graduation, I worked all summer at the diner. Listened to my customers, my neighbors tell crude racial jokes over the cup of joe Id just served them. If ever I happened to wander by or be wiping off a nearby table just as they reached the racial joke punch line, theyd simply turn to me and say, Oh, no offense, Raven?! Like that made it alright? Like it was okay to insult my heritage, as long as you didnt mean it towards me? There were only two other black girls at my high school. Shamika and

Mercedes. Yet, they didnt nearly receive the Special Negro treatment that the white folks in town gave to me. Best I could figure was three reasons. First, Shamika and Mercedes had not grown up here. Theyd moved here, when their parents decided to escape the mean streets of Chicago, to pursue a more tranquil life in a smaller town. That, to the rednecks round here, nearly makes them foreigners. Secondly, they were not light skinned like me. Actually, Im not that light. Its not like you can see my veins or anything. And, I dont turn red when I blush.

But, compared to the other two black girls, youd think I was Halle Berry because they were dark skinned. A very pretty, smooth dark color, almost like coal. Thirdly, their parents were black. Never understood how I somehow gained points in the eyes of the community by having a white mother. Somehow, I must be tamer. Less threatening. My light complexion and my so called frizzy black hair made me almost an honorary white girl. That is, just as long as I didnt rock the boat. Its so funny how the folks in my town conveniently make use of their blinders. I felt I looked more like the black girls than any white girl. I had a big butt like theirs. My hair is nappy, not frizzy, like theirs. My skin got ashy like theirs did. And, I felt alone, like they did. But, if you ask anybody in our town if theres stereotyping in our town? -Theyll tell you, Hell no! We all get along round here! Even the white boys I briefly dated were more interested in the taboo of the black side of me. I saw how they peered at my round, high-riding backside. Yet, at the same time, they hid behind the safety of the fact that I had a white side, too. With me, they could have their cake and eat it too. Lust after black beauty without it being evident. Most guys decided to pursue me because they viewed me as some hidden Amazonian treasure. Every single guy I dated attempted to sleep with me on our first date. Absent was the romance Id overhear my white girl classmates speak of. No matter how honorable I thought the boy was at the beginning of the date, they all ended the same way. Grabby hands trying to expose my breasts to eager eyes. It wasnt so much the grabby hands that I minded, as it was the reason for the grabby hands. It was never even an innocent true physical attraction. The kind

where you actually like the person, but the extreme physical attraction makes you try to speed things up. No, it was never anything close to that. Which would have been okay, I guess. These guys assertions and advances had nothing to do with me, Raven, the person. Had more to do with the black-girl-Raven. Quite easily, I could read the curiosity written in the pupils of their eyes, as theyd attempted to raise my shirt or sweater: I wonder what this black girl's titties look like? Are the nipples different? Some even skipped the first step of trying to cop-a-feel on my tits, before viewing them. It was like they didnt care to feel them as much as they were curious to see them. I believed that they figured my natural jungle sexual instincts would somehow be revealed in privacy. They were very wrong and usually ended up going home with a sore pair of balls.

I have to admit, sitting in the plastic molded seat of the Greyhound bus station I was a bit nervous about leaving the only place Id known. Began wondering if I was making a mistake? At the same time, I knew if I didnt go now, Id end up like everyone else in Des Moines. Satisfied with only talking about the big plans they had when they were young and annually modifying their excuses for never actually doing it. Working in a diner, you hear these excuses and stories just as many times a day as you refill coffee.

The faces are different, but the excuses are the same. I was going to become an airline pilot, but my girlfriend got pregnant and I had to support the family or I was going to go to/finish college, but I had to pay the mortgage. Then this type of comment was usually followed by some type of halfhearted commitment to one day complete the dream. Yeah, after the kids graduate, Im gonna _______ (you fill in the blank). Actually, neither the speaker nor the listener really believes a word. Yet, both shy away from disputing the validity. Instead, it just becomes a good game of reciprocating coffee conversation You listen to my lie and Ill listen to yours. Just one of the ways people in Des Moines make it through another unfulfilling day. Though I was excited about getting out of Des Moines, I was not looking forward to the 48-hour bus ride to Atlanta. It seemed as though my bus made stops in every small town, sometimes going west rather than east. But what could I expect for only $39? As the bus pulled into Kansas City, Missouri for an hour-long layover, I began recognizing just how sheltered Id been. Didnt even know there were two

different Kansas Citys, one in Missouri and the other in Kansas. Got the feeling I was getting closer to my goal of being around more black people. The K.C. bus station was almost entirely filled with black folks. More than Id ever seen at one time. After a brief freshening in the just barely sanitary bathroom, I found the Door #4, where my new bus would be boarding. I sat down next to a very pretty black girl, who looked a little older than me, about 21 or 22. Are you going to Atlanta too? I said attempting to strike up a conversation. Her nose was nestled in a romance novel. After a slight delay, apparently so that she could finish the sentence she was reading, she responded.

Oh, um, yeah. But, Im not taking the bus. A friend of mine is just meeting me here. Were gonna drive down. She was the color of burnt caramel with very striking features that perfectly matched her concise manner. Long, expertly flat-ironed hair that fanned out easily whenever she looked a different direction and had a slender build, except she had logic defying curves for someone of her size. The very tight, sleeveless, designer T-shirt she wore followed the contour of her torso like it had a road map, stopping just above her naval. The words on the front of her shirt stretched across her chest like a billboard. Though the words actually said Tommy Girl, when I first saw them, to me they read, Look Here! She had an almost elegant, hip hop Jennifer Lopez style. Watchya going to Atlanta for? I bluntly asked. Im a model, actress and a singer, on my way to be in a music video, proudly she responded, though she attempted to be ho-hum about it. Craftily, she did not mention whose video, so that Id be enticed to ask more about her. Really! Whos video? I took the bait. M.C. Krush, she said, again matter of factly. COOL! Cool, cool, thats cool, repeatedly I chanted with declining Was beginning to recognize that I was

exuberance while nodding my head.

sounding like someone who aint never been nowhere. It was too late to undo it, but Id try anyway. Sensing my interest had plateaud, she kept the subject going. Yeah, its cool sometimes. But, we work long hours, too...... Im sorry, I never introduced myself. Im Nia Moore, she said, resting the book in her lap while extending her newly manicured hand to me, in just the manner a star would while connecting with one of their fans.

Nice to meet you, Im Raven. Raven Klein. I said without paying too much attention to the painted designs on her fingertips. Are you in the entertainment industry? Nia asked. I blushingly laughed. Who me? No! I said, shaking my head. Why do you say it like that? I dont know? I just dont think anyone would mistake me for someone on their way to becoming famous. Thats not true. I thought maybe you were a singer or a model. Okay, now Nia was just being polite. I never thought of myself as bad looking, but a model? Come on now. Its not like, I wasnt in good shape. I had a slim waist, perky breast and a shapely bottom. But Nia, oh my goodness, I was nothing like her. Her arms were toned,

definition in the shoulders, forearms and biceps areas. Plus, she had that thin shapely look going for her, like Tyra Banks, with just enough meat in all the right places. No excess anywhere. Ive noticed models, at least black models, seemed to have contradictory physical features. You know, narrow hips, yet a protruding curvy backside that stops where the thigh begins. No Bu-thigh issues, where the butt is not distinct from the thighs. And they all have flat stomachs, narrow lower torsos leading up to a ballooning bust, accented by strong looking but not over bearing arms. So what you going to Atlanta for? Nia questioned. Just a change of scenery, I said vaguely, uncomfortable with the shoe on the other foot and me being the subject. In Iowa, people read signals. Not true for city girls, I was finding out firsthand. Change of scenery? Nia said, dramatically leaning backward, simultaneously contorting her face like she either resented my vagueness or didnt understand or both.

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Change of scenery? Whatzz that mean? Are you visiting, moving or what? boldly she continued. Feeling intimidated and not wanting to be on her bad side, even for the short time I had left to wait for my bus departure, I decided to come clean. Yeah, Im moving there. Just didnt wanna live in Iowa, anymore. With a huge grin, clapping her hands together and alternating stomping her feet, she said, IOWA!! Girl, I didnt know any black people lived in Iowa! Passively and semi humorously I tried to make light of the moment, Yeah. Well, there arent anymore black people in Iowa. I was the last one. I didnt like my town either. Obviously, thats why I was moving. Yet and still, I felt like a stranger shouldnt be allowed to make fun of Des Moines. When her laughter had subsided, I could see that Nia really meant no harm. She wasnt cold hearted. And could tell, she could read my face. Girl, Im just fuckin with you! she said, while giving me a side to side rocking, sisterly hug with one arm. So, where in Atlanta are you going to be living? seamlessly she transitioned the awkward moment away. Actually, I dont know yet? That hug, made me feel more comfortable sharing information. YOU dont know yet? she said, tempering her tone down by the end of her sentence. Didnt want me to close up, I guess. No. Well, Raven, do you have family living there? No. Do you already have a job in Atlanta? Um, no. The concern on her face made me even more nervous. Nia paused her

questioning for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, chewed on her upper lip

while her eyes rose inside her eyelids in thought, like she was trying to figure out a geometrical problem. Her eyes quickly scanned me over then rose inside her eyelids again, like she was double checking the answer. speaking in a very calm, please believe me voice. Okay, listen..., she whispered, placing her hand on my knee, ..... my agent, the guy whos picking me up, keeps a two bedroom apartment rented for me in Atlanta. You seem like a nice girl. I probably should not be doing this, but, I think youre gonna get eaten up if I dont. What Im trying to say is that you can stay with me until you get on your feet. Surprised by the offer, tempted to take her up on it, I decided to decline. Thank you so much Nia, for your offer. But, I think Im gonna be okay. Ive got my own money, confidently I spoke. Biting her lip again, Nia glanced at the very expensive watch on her wrist. It seemed as though she was starting to lose patience. Raven, the A-T-L is a big city that you know nothing about. How much money do you think its gonna cost to get an apartment? I dunno, maybe, four or five hundred? Nia just lowered her head and shook it side to side. Try more like $800 a month. Plus, $800 security deposit. Plus, money to turn on the electric and gas. Plus, groceries for you to eat. Not to mention, dishes & pans to cook with. And, we aint even talked about no furniture, so you can have a place to sit or sleep. Thats over 2-Gs right there! OH! And how you gonna find an apartment with no car! OH! Better yet, how you gonna qualify for an Then she resumed

apartment with no job or local references........ Now, I was really worried. Most of the things Nia had mentioned, Id never even thought about.

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Noticing that her volume had increased during the explanation of how serious my situation was, Nia motioned for me to follow her outside. From her purse, she pulled out a gold cigarette case filled with Newport cigs. Nia offered me one, but I didnt smoke. She turned away, cupping one hand around the lighter to shield the wind, as she lit up. Immediately, she began pulling hard on the cig, like she was stressed out. After a few drags, she began speaking to me as she exhaled the smoke away from me. Raven, I dont know what youre running from in Iowa, but I can tell youre not a bad person. You just have to understand, youre gonna see alot of things you never dreamed of in Atlanta, she said, contagiously nodding at me. I know, I said, nodding back to her, now more worried than ever. Especially after hearing her long list of expenses that I failed to consider. All Im saying is I can help you. Everybody needs some help. Youre a pretty girl. Im sure my agent could even find you some work in the meantime. So, you might want to think about my offer before my agent gets here, okay? Thats all Im saying, okay? Okay. Thank you, I said, having already made up my mind that I must take her offer. But, I wanted to kill a little time, so that Nia would think that I had given it some serious thought. Just then, a shiny black Cadillac Escalade pulled into the Greyhound parking lot and honked the horn. Nia stomped out her cigarette, waved to the tinted window, sprayed a burst of breath freshener in her mouth and surveyed the ground around her to make sure she had both of her bags. Well Raven, thats my agent. Whatzit gonna be? she questioned, tilting her head to the side while holding her muscular arms out to the side.

If you dont mind, I would like to take you up on your offer. I promise Ill stay out of your way and pay my own way .........., I unnecessarily rambled. Nia interrupted my unnecessary rambling with a hug and smile. This time, giving me a two arm embrace. The car horn sounded again as we made our way over to the mammoth vessel. As we approached, the trunk popped open shortly before the Herculean man exited out of the drivers side door. Nia led the way. I followed far enough behind to allow her to have whatever conversation was needed to explain my presence. The 64 - 250 lb. man wrapped his massive arms around her waist, planted a quaint peck on Nias lips before bear-hugging her feet completely off the ground. Gingerly, he placed Nia back on the ground, while looking at me. His embrace was ended with a playful pat on Nias backside. To which, Nia responded with a hard punch to his arm that had no effect, as he tapped her bottom once more. Rico, this is my friend Raven. Raven, this is Rico, Nia introduced us. Nice to meet ya Raven, Rico said. Nice to meet you Rico, I nervously responded, while shaking his hand. Although he appeared to be of a gentle nature, while my hand was easily being swallowed by his, I couldnt help but think how easy it would be for his hand to crush mine, even by mistake. Ravens moving to the A-T-L. informed him. Cool! Lets roll! Rico said, holding both of Nias bags and gesturing for me to give mine to him as well. While Nia was explaining the situation to him, Id wondered if Rico would veto our deal. Thankfully, he didnt. I told her she could stay with me, Nia

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Rico loaded the bags in the back and it wasnt long before we were heading south on I-70, on our way to Atlanta. Ricos Escalade was fully loaded. Chromed wheels, sunroof, gray leather seats and a pop-out television screen with a DVD player. On the road to St. Louis, which would be our first stop on this 15-hour journey, I learned that Rico was a former NFL linebacker; played his college ball at Georgia Tech. Even before he explained the knee injury that had ended his career, Id already assumed something like that, as he looked far too young to be retired. After his third season in the NFL, at age 25, Rico got injured playing in the Pro Bowl game in Hawaii. Fortunately, he had just signed a guaranteed contract. The deal was for 6 years, the first two years were guaranteed. The total contract would have paid him $9 million, plus a signing bonus of $4 million. Because he got injured before the season, he was entitled to payment for the first two years ($1.5 million each year) and he got to keep the signing bonus. Rico was sitting pretty with $7 million. Id wondered earlier when I saw Rico hug and kiss Nia what the attraction was, but now I knew. Ricos not ugly or anything. Actually, hes very handsome; thick eyebrows, long eyelashes and a perfect smile. It was just a size thing, I guess. Nia, though tall at 59, most likely did not weigh even half as much as Rico. Even wondered how such a small girl could handle such a big man, if you know what I mean. Rico owned two nightclubs in Atlanta, hence his involvement in promoting Nias career. With his contacts from his NFL days still being fresh, he could open doors Nia knew shed never make it through. Didnt know if Nia was playing him or not? Or if it was the other way around. They might be madly in love. I didnt know.

Id never known anyone with a million dollars before. I guess you just get suspicious when youre around some Donald Trump type environment. Wondered why theyd meet at a bus station in K.C. versus somewhere else? And, why they werent flying instead of driving? Turns out, Nia had been in K.C. for a modeling shoot. Shed be the Beauty of The Week in the next issue of Jet Magazine. Rico was in St. Louis, attending a former teammates weeklong bachelor party and wedding. They decided to meet at the Greyhound station, because Rico had already driven four-and-half hours coming up to K.C. to pick up Nia and the Greyhound station was close to I-70, therefore he wouldnt have to navigate his way through downtown K.C. to get to her hotel. Besides, Nia had already checked out of her room. It was around 7:30 PM when we pulled into St. Louis. Raven, are you in a hurry to get to Atlanta? Rico asked. No. Not really? I think we gonna stop at a hotel in St. Louis, if thats alright with you? Like I was gonna say no. They were my ride. Not to mention, Nia represented my living quarters in Atlanta. Fine with me, I said, smiling back to him in the rear view mirror. Rico put on his wireless phone earpiece, called a hotel, making a reservation of two rooms; not rooms, suites is the word I heard him use. We pulled into the Grand Marquis hotel, a very classy hotel. The staff clearly knew who Rico was. They treated us royally. A valet took the car. Not one, but two bellhops placed our bags on the gold luggage racks and led us through the marble-floored lobby, past the check-in counter directly to a private elevator. As I watched one of the bellhops pressing the 25th floor button, the top floor in the hotel, I couldnt help but think about how drastic a change I was experiencing.

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Less than six hours ago, I was riding on a nasty bus. Now, Im about to enter a suite in a very classy hotel. Exiting the elevator, I now understood the purpose of the two bellhops. One was for me! Seeing as our rooms were in opposite directions. Before we parted, Rico slapped a fifty dollar bill in my bellhops hand and began to clarify things for me. Hey, Raven, everythings on me. If you need something, just call downstairs and theyll take care of you. Anything at all, order a movie, use the phone long distance, order room service, need a ride somewhere in the hotel limo. Anything at all! I mean it! he said authoritatively. Attempting to make sure, Id not be shy about anything. Nia, standing next to him, just smiled proudly before speaking. Why dont we go downstairs and get something to eat? Raven, I know youve gotta be hungry? I was. Not to mention tired from the twelve hours Id spent on the bus prior to meeting Nia. Thats cool. Thanks you guys! I said, as genuinely as I could. Thanks didnt nearly seem quite enough. Alright, lets meet downstairs at 8:30? Rico added. Nia and I agreed. In the restaurant, Rico repeated his, its on me comments. I wanted to order something not that expensive, but it was virtually impossible. There was nothing on the menu that cost less than $22. So, I ordered the twenty two dollar French Dip sandwich. Midway through the meal, both Rico and Nia broke out their cell phones. Rico making plans to head out with some of his buddies still in town from the wedding. Nia, no doubt, calling some girls she knew in St. Louis.

As we were leaving the restaurant, on our way to the private elevator, Rico was stopped by a well dressed, well built, handsome friend of his. They exchanged man-hugs that seemed like it hurt. Hard pounding on each others back. It was clear that this guy also knew Nia. Cause he smiled at her and turned the switch on his hug-dial from tough to gentle. Then his eyes made their way towards me. Damn. Now who is this? he commented, while extending his hand. Nia rolled her eyes like she knew this slickster all too well. This is Raven, Nia said, deliberately separating our hands. Well, it is certainly nice to meet you Raven. BJ......... That aint all they call you, I heard Nia, silently echo in the background. ............. Anyway, what yall getting into? Yall dont mind, if I tag along? BJ invited himself. Man, we aint gettin into nothin. I was getting ready to go hang out with Ty and K.C. -- you know Todd just got married this weekend. Bullshit! BJ seemed surprised. Naw, Im for real. If you wanna roll, we can roll? Thats straight! BJ said, turning his attention to me. Reaching for my hand, he kissed the back of it and said, Ill see you later, Raven. Yeah, whatever! Nia barked back at BJ. Rico was tickled by BJs corny antics. He simply put his big paw on the back of BJs neck and guided him away from me, towards the front door before shouting back to Nia that they may be out kinda late. Who is that? I asked Nia. Gurrrll, nobody you wanna know. Trust me! she said. Im Brian, friends call me

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It wasnt like I couldnt see through BJs phony facade. I was just curious as to who he was, and about the relationship between him and Rico. For that matter, I was curious about her relationship with Rico. She kept

referring to him as her agent. Yet, there was clear evidence that they had much more than just a business partnership. The kiss they shared. To say nothing about the room they were sharing. I was definitely in uncharted waters. Nia was in, as she called it, The

Entertainment Industry. Maybe this is the way everyone behaves in showbiz. So, Raven whatcha fenna do? Me and my girls about to head to Pleasers Club. Did you wanna come? No, Im real tired. I think Im gonna go to sleep. What time are we leaving tomorrow? Gurrll, I dont even know. But with Rico, you can believe it wont be before noon! Dont worry about it; well call you early enough! I just didnt wanna be holding nobody up, I clarified. You sure you dont wanna go to Pleasers? You dont know what youre missing? Why? What is Pleasers? Psst. Its just a club. What kinda club? A strip club. Men dancers on one side, women dancers on the other side. Thats probably where Rico anem are going anyway. I was tempted as hell to go. Had never been to a place like that. However, my body felt like it needed to sleep for a month. Naw, I dont think so ...... We aint leaving the hotel til around midnight. You could go to sleep now, and I could come wake you up around 11:15.

The private elevator doors opened to our floor as we continued our conversation. Nia, I dont know? Aw-right. But, youre gonna miss King Kong? Nia toyed with me, as she slowly turned towards her room. Okay, Ill ask. What or whos a King Kong? Cant explain, youll just have to see it for yourself. No promises, but call me at 11:00, I finally conceded.

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The Night CHAPTER TWO

That night at Pleasers, the parking lot was filled with nothing but expensive cars; Mercedes, Lexus, Jaguars, Porches, BMWs, Audis, and all the oversized expensive SUVs. Even saw a Ferrari. Nias friend was expectedly cute and sexy dressed. Tyanna had a look like Beyonce from Destinys Child. About 58, maybe 135 pounds, hair in microbraids and dyed brown-blonde, a meat-n-potatoes backside and a bright dimple smile across her bronze colored face. She was the only girl, other than me, that looked like theyd eaten a decent meal in the last six months, or that weighed over 115 pounds. I was kinda diggin her style, too. And not just because her shape, closest resembled mine. Her approach was definitely eye catching. She was wearing a camouflage print spandex top with only one shoulder strap and four narrow horizontal splits, revealing a peak at her cleavage. Low cut jeans with a chain belt. The jeans were cut so low her tattoo was peeking out the back. Another tattoo was making its debut on her chest. Tyanna even had a flashing light naval button. If I was a guy, Ida been confused as to where to look on her. She had a plethora of look here items. Nias look here area was easy to figure out; the same as at the bus station, her titties. She loved tight shirts with writing on them. Her busty-ness always

stretched the letters horizontally. And, her itty bitty lower torso just magnified her bosom. Nia and I probably wore the same cup size. But, because of her smaller frame, her endowment looked more dramatic. Not to mention, they were shaped perfectly round, like a firmly packed ball of clay.

Tonight I could tell she didnt have a bra on. Which made me wonder, Was her perkiness a result of some augmentation? Maybe, I was just jealous. As we walked from the parking lot, I noticed the line to get into the club was extremely long. But that didnt impact us as we were heading toward a side door VIP entrance. I loved this type of life; never waiting for anything. I didnt even get carded at the door. I was with Nia, and I guess that was good enough for the bouncer. Inside the club, the hip hop music was loud. Not to mention the combination of the screaming men and women. The stage was in the middle. There was a wall that divided the stage in half. One side was filled with men watching women dance. You couldnt see the dancers on the other side of the wall. However, from around the side of the stage, I could see the excited men waving dollar bills. We sat in a private booth that had better furniture in it than my mom had in her house. Black leather sofas, expensive looking coffee and end tables, entirely

enclosed by tinted glass. This was cool because it helped reduce some of the blaring noise from the speakers. Shortly after sitting down, our shirtless, g-string male waiter came to take our order. Nia ordered a sex on the beach. Tyanna, a blue motherfucker. When he turned to me to take my order, the giggles came out. The waiters dick was

hanging very nicely in his g-string, and was directly in front of my face. Nia stepped in, Umm...shell have a sex-on-the-beach, as well. All on your tab, Nia? he clarified. Yeah. Nia turned to me somewhat surprised by my reaction. Girl, how old is you? 19. Why?

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Ooooo. I dont know if this girl can hang with us, Nee? Tyanna jumped in. Why? How old are you guys? I quickly responded. 21, said Nia. 22, responded Tyanna. Oooo, Nee. We gotta get her a private dance with King Kong, Tyanna

proposed, very giddy. Nia covering a smile with her hand, nodded yes back to Tyanna. As the waiter returned with our drinks, I folded my lips in, to keep from giggling again. Nia reached over to me with a twenty dollar bill, Here Raven. Give this to him. I attempted to hand it to him. But he moved his hands above his head, gyrated his lower body before pushing his groin closer to the bill in my hand. Put it in his g-string, Tyanna leaned over and whispered to me. As I did, looking up I caught him glaring at me with very sexy, serious eyes. Thank you, he said, kissing the back of my hand. Alright, here we go...., Tyanna said, raising her glass, waiting for us to do the same. Get ready to take it to the head! The way they were preparing themselves, I figured out, Tyanna meant were supposed to drink it, all at once. Both Nia and Tyanna made it. I wasnt a liquor drinker, so it took me about three times to get my drink all the way down. In Iowa, we drank mostly beer at parties. As we downed drink after drink, the liquor started getting me bold. So Nia, whats the deal between you and Rico? I slurred out. Ohhhpp. Nee, I think your girls drunk. Tyanna instigated. I am not. So whatzup? Is he your man or what? Look at Miss Iowa all up in my biz-ness. Nia said with a smile.

Naw, Rico aint my man. Hes just my agent. She thinks Ricos your man? Tyanna giggled toward Nia. I know what she needs. Raven needs some business of her own, instead of being all up in yours. Ill be right back! Tyanna continued with a mischievous grin and a wink. Tyanna returned with a cute as hell, brown skinned male dancer; a six-foot-two, mouth watering piece of chocolate. Wooooo-oo! Nia screamed as they came through our door. Tyanna quickly put her bottom back in the leather seat, so not to delay the show. Costumed in a loin cloth, gold fig leaves looped around each bicep and a string of fig leaves around his forehead. He had a god-like chest that he could make bounce by flexing, a stomach that rippled like a Ruffles potato chip and arms like damn! Did you guys want the regular VIP dance or the Private VIP? asked the dancer. Tyanna and Nia looked at each other, turned in unison to harmoniously scream, The PRIVATE! The man then went to our door and turned the lock. He started dancing over by Nia first, and then made his way around the room, letting each of us spank his butt. Next, he centered himself in the middle of the room, paused for dramatic purposes, and then ripped off his loin cloth. Ohhhh my goodness! screamed Nia, clapping her hands together. Damn, King Kong! yelled Tyanna, even more excited. I was just in shock. So, this was King Kong? Aptly named. Im not lying; his dick had to be 14 inches long. Non-erect! And, it had girth too. It didnt seem real. Hell, the damn thing hung midway down his thigh.

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This time, when Kong made his way around the room, it was much more sensual. Placed his dick in Nias hands; took two hands to hold it! Did the same with Tyanna and me. I was hot as hell inside just holding that dick. Could see it in Nia and Tyanna too. These were some wild girls! I was definitely intoxicated; by the liquor and by Kong. His third trip around the room, he incorporated our bodies into the show. Caressing and sucking on Nias titties through her shirt, until her eyes closed in shear enjoyment and her nipples were popping through. Then he stood Tyanna up, facing her towards the sofa. Bent her over. Put her hands on the back of the sofa and began mocking doggie style with her. Keeping her in that bent-over position, he stood off to the side of her, reached over her backside between her legs and began stroking slowly across her jeans; up and down, then side to side. It marked the first time anyone had been able to shut her up all night. That is, until she moaned, Uhhh-uhh. After Tyanna made that passionate noise, Kong really went to work on her. Increasing his pace. Stroking the hell out of her until Tyannas body shivered forcing her to grab his hand as she tried to straighten up. By her lip-folded, eye-dazed expression on her face, I knew Tyanna had just cum. Hell, I was damn close myself just witnessing the action. Nia giggled in the aftermath of watching him with Tyanna and in the anticipation of me being next. Hold out your hands, Kong instructed me, as he poured some warm oil into my hands.

Placing his thang in my hands, his eyes signaled for me to begin stroking him. I did. Yeah girl! Work it girl! shouted the renewed Tyanna. No, you work her! choreographed Nia. Kong obeyed. He began giving me the same treatment as Nia, manly caressing and nipple pinching through my shirt. Then he nibbled my neck, while his hand, now between my legs, rubbed me into ecstasy. Tightly held onto his neck as I couldnt help but to cum in my pants. Look at her face! Nia enjoyed laughing to Tyanna. Nias comment made Kong cut my time short, as he returned to her. Lifting up Nias shirt, revealing her perfect Playboy magazine breasts, he began sucking hard until her face squinted. Unbuttoned her pants, slid his hand way down deep; deep enough to reach pay dirt. Just before Nias body began convulsing, I noticed that Kong was only semihard. This guy was incredible! Then I noticed Tyanna, shamelessly getting out of her clothes. And so did he. He started to abandon Nia to go towards Tyanna, until Tyanna demanded, Uhnuhn. Youre not done with her yet! With Nia lying on her back, he slid her narrow hips completely out of her pants and nestled his head between her legs. From my viewpoint, all I could see was the back of Kongs head moving side to side, like he was saying no. And Nias legs shaking and her body continuously jerking up and down. Her facial expression had no remnants of the sophistication Id seen earlier in the bus station. Ahhh, shit. IM CUMMING! Im cummin, cummin, cummin, Nia

feverishly exhaled with glazed, wandering eyes as her hands were desperately trying to push his head out of that area.

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Tyanna was busy playing with herself as Kong, now fully erect, stood up to see who was next. There were no volunteers, so Kong decided it must be my turn. I guess, because I had the most clothes on. Shortly after Kong had lifted my shirt, re-nibbled my already sore nipples and stroked me to a sequel orgasm, Tyanna made a comment. Okay now, somebodys gotta get fucked! There was a pause. Tyanna continued Im sayin, we bought the Private VIP, whozit gonna be? Silence. Nobody dared volunteer. I thought, Why dont she do it? She brought Kong back here? It was her idea? There was no way in hell that I was gonna attempt to handle Kong inside me! I knew he had too much for me. This man had just given three girls orgasms, at least once each, some of us twice, without being as so much as fully erect. Oh, hell no! I dont think I could ever be that drunk. Yall scared! declared Tyanna. Yeah we scared. Why dont you do it! battled Nia. I aint scared! Then do it! Nia again challenged. There was a brief pause before Tyanna said to Kong, Come on as she positioned her body back against the leather sofa. Judging by Tyannas face I think she needed Nia to challenge her into doing it with Kong. As Kong unwrapped a condom, that when rolled up on his massive dick looked like a thimble, Tyanna appeared to be having second thoughts. But, Id learn, she was not the kind whod punk out, even when she should.

Her normal in your face demeanor had humbled a bit. Softened, somewhat. And, her eyes never left his dick. Wanting to know its location at all times. Apparently, didnt want any surprise penetration. No more I guess, than a kid would want a surprise shot from a doctor. Nia and I intensely watched; unabated curiosity. Wondered what the outcome would be, though we were pretty certain of it. But, like a Mike Tyson fight, we were still drawn. As Kong positioned himself on his knees in front of Tyanna, spread her legs apart in a V, took himself in his right hand preparing to penetrate, Tyanna decided to forego ego and make a plea. Wait, wait, wait. Go SLOW! OKAY?! Very slow! And, not deep! Tyanna said, staring directly into his eyes and nodding. Kong just smiled at her nervousness. Reassuringly, he nodded back. He

mustve heard that type of apprehension, all of his life. Every girl hed ever been with mustve had the same reaction. I-yigh-yigh-yigh, ooo-ooo-ooo, Tyanna groaned as he entered. This match up was already a no-contest. Not more than four to five, slow fourinch-deep strokes into it, Tyanna was begging. Ooooo-ooo, Slower, slower, oh my gaa... oh my gaa... oh my gaa..... oh my shit...I...Im....Cu...um...MING!..Im...cum... mm...ming! Tyannas thick legs were shaking. Her face was dually pained with

embarrassment of her duration and by the residual ecstasy, not yet fully released. Still connected, Kong leaned back to give us a better view. And, out of pure desire to prove clear supremacy, decided to showboat for Nia and me. Pinched Tyannas reddened nipples, to a now full half inch. Gave her about an inch more of himself. Seductively moistened his thumb with his tongue, and then placed it directly on her clit.

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No need for a referee to declare a winner in this contest. A pictures worth a thousand words. He wasnt moving at all. No pumping. No humping. Nothing. Meanwhile, Tyanna was going crazy. Oh my gaa...oh my gaa...oh my gaa-aah.....OOHH, OH-Shit, Oh my gaa...OhhSHIT, Tyanna shrieked, as she tried to make eye contact with him between her jerking. I have to give the girl credit. Tyannas will was very strong. Though, she wasnt fooling anybody. She was definitely Kongs puppet. He was no more than five, out of a possible fourteen inches deep and shed already cum three or four times, in about a ninety second span. Yet, she hung in, as best as she could. Ill give her that! Realizing that Tyannas common sense was definitely exceeded by her ego; an ego that would not allow her to concede on her own, Kong decided to do it for her. Slowly backing out his now creamy condom, signaling it was the end with a kiss to Tyannas exhausted and flushed face. Though, the whole thing lasted less than 10 minutes, judging by Tyannas face, wouldve sworn itd been two hours. Thanks baby! You were great! he said so genuinely, I wouldve believed him, had I not just seen it. Then Kong turned to me and Nia. Anybody else want some? Kong encouraged, holding up fresh condom packets. Me and Nia, unplanned, had the same exact reaction. Moving away from him, shaking our heads, Hell No!. Thanks ladies! Kong said, handing each of us his card. Call me anytime you wanna have some more fun! Im gonna have the waiter bring you guys some more drinks.

Looking over to Tyanna, he publicly announced, Dont worry about it babe, I do this for a living! Im an adult film performer. Listen, youre not bad, for not being a professional! Then Kong continued out a back door to our booth that I hadnt even known existed. Shocked looks were on all three of our faces, after his revelation. It certainly explained why the three of us couldnt handle him. And, I guess his comment was of some consolation to Tyanna. We took turns cleaning up in the private bathroom that was located in our booth before resuming our drinking. We were attempting to regain the high wed all lost, due solely to Kongs visit. Tonight, was very exciting. It was the kind of night where you wanted a souvenir. Although I was certain, my memory of this night would never fade. Ive always considered myself as a little on the wild side. But, Id never had an opportunity in Iowa, like I did tonight. This wild escapade was bonding us together. Guess it makes sense. When you orgasm in front of someone, its only natural that you feel a connection. Like our own little secret, that only the three of us shared. Later, we even felt comfortable teasing and mocking each other about our moments. Nia teased Tyanna, Girl, Kong had yo thighs shaking like a 6.0 earthquake! Nia cracked up laughing. So did Tyanna. I just smiled, not sure of how far to take it. Aw, fuck you girl! Tyanna said with a smile. What about you, Nee. When that boy was lickin yo pussy, I thought you were having a seizure! Tyanna continued by shaking her body and rolling her eyes to the top of her head, mocking Nia.

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They both, giggled again. Oh, and dont think we forgot about you, Iowa, Tyanna included me. Iowagirl trying to have an orgasm on the sly. I saw your lips quivering, while you were trying to suck in air. Sounded like a damn tuba player with asthma! We all fell out laughing and raised a toast to King Kong, then headed back to the hotel.

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FREE 2-CHAPTER PREVIEW

Essence Magazine Best-Seller, Wild Thangz DESCRIPTION
Jazmyn, Trina and Brea are definitely a trio of Drama-Magnets - the sista-girlz version of Charlies Angels. Young & fine with bangin bodies, the three of them feel like they can do no wrong not even with each other. No matter the location: Jamaica, Miami, NYC or the A-T-L, lust, greed and trouble is never far from these wanna-be divas. Jazymn has secret dreams that if she pursues will cause her to have mega family problems. Though the most logical of the group, she can get her attitude on with the best of them when pushed. Trina wasnt always the diva. Book-smarts used to be her calling-card. But, under the tutoring of her personal hootchie-professor, Brea, shes just now beginning to understand the power that she has in her trafficstopping Badunkadunk. Brea has the face of a princess, but is straight ghetto-fab -- without the slightest shame. As the wildest of the bunch, her personal credos of living life to the fullest and to use what her mama gave her to get ahead, is constantly creating drama for Jazymn and Trina. When past skeleton-choices in Breas closet places all three of them in an impossible life-and-death situation, they must take an action that has the most serious of consequences, in order to survive! The very foundation of their friendship-bond gets tested, as each of them have the opportunity to sell-out the other! The question is, Will They? Wild Parties, Wild Situations & Wild Nights are always present for these Wild Thangz!

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34

FREE PREVIEW of Winston Chapmans Essence Magazine Best-Selling Novel

Chapter One
The loud clacking sound caused my shoulders to jerk out of pure nervousness, as I lifted my head and glanced over to three empty seats next to me -- seats that were supposed to have been filled. I was dressed in the finest conservative business attire that I had in my closet and my hair was flawless. Ordinarily, Id be feeling good about the way I looked today and about having so many eyes on me. But, it was definitely not an ordinary day. Todays reason for my special costuming had robbed it of its meaning. It was just plain necessary. Though Id been pre-warned that today wouldnt be a long day, it didnt diminish the fact that I hadnt heard someone call me by my full name, Jazmyn Rene Wallace, since high school home-room roll-call. The next words out of my mouth would be the most important sentence that Id ever utter. My shaking voice struggled and cracked as I vocalized a simple twoword response.

Less than two years ago I was basking in the warm sun of Negril, Jamaica with my girlfriends, Trina and Brea, on a College Spring-Break vacation. Wed been a best-friends-trio since our freshman year at Spelman College in Atlanta. All of us were now sophomores. Look at Trinas scandalous ass! Brea smirked to me at the sight of Trina shamelessly walking up to us from the sandy beach.

Trina had a dynamite body and was never one to cover it up. Today was no exception as she paraded her thick-self up the sand, skirt-wrap in-hand, on her way to the grass-hut bar where Brea and I were seated, still dripping wet from her ocean swim. Brea and I giggled while witnessing the domino-effect of every guys head turning as she swayed by them in her fluorescent yellow bikini that contrasted her jet-black skin. If this were a highway, you know sheda caused an accident! I replied back to Brea, just before Trina made it to us. Ahhhhh! That felt good! Trina referred to her impulsive ocean dip. I told you, you guys shouldve come with me. Umm, Trina. You do know that skirt-wraps are meant to go around your waist? Brea humorously scolded Trina for bringing her bikini-only-covered booty back to us, along with the attention of the entire beach. Whatever, Trina countered as she ordered a drink from the bar after showing identification that she was of legal drinking age, which was 18 in Jamaica. Trina had always been a strange one. Though she looked every bit the part of the ultimate sistah-girl, we swore that there had to be some blonde hair somewhere in the roots of her braids, because at times, she had white-girl tendencies. None more evident than todays impromptu swim. She was the only black person that I knew who would do that. It was like shed been issued her black skin and didnt know that as a black woman she was supposed to look good by the water, but not actually be in it. I had always assumed the reason for Trinas country-white-girl behavior was because she was from Savannah, Georgia, a small southern community about 250miles southeast of Atlanta. Despite being born and raised in Georgia, her speech was absent of the usual southern twang. It was as proper as a news anchor,

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enunciating every word. bringing.

Clear evidence of her, privileged, private school, up

Brea, on the other hand was from the hood Brooklyn to be precise. Though her rougher edges had been smoothed a bit because of her year and a half at college, it wasnt wise to let her model-like beauty fool you. She still had that fire that could come out at any moment, if provoked. Brea was sort of a mix of Alicia Keys and Lil Kim. I guess the best way to describe Brea is Sophisticated-Ghetto. At 58 with legs for days and hair that could be worn curly or straight on a moments notice, Breas outer-appearance was statuesque and refined. Brea always dressed in the most stylish of garb, no matter what the occasion. At the same time, she wasnt against smoking the occasional blunt or fighting some hootchie in the street outside of a house party. Most people knew of her only one-way, either as Sophisticated or Ghetto. As her friend, I knew both sides very well.

Our trip to Jamaica had been courtesy of Trinas dad, who owned a car dealership in Savannah. As a gift to Trina for her 3rd-consecutive semester with a 4.0 grade point average, she could take two-friends with her to Jamaica. Her dad was always giving her gifts like that. Sometimes Brea and I would be a little jealous, because our parents definitely didnt have it like that. My parents were former musicians that started a cleaning service late in life. Breas mom had just graduated from nursing school and her father was a nightshift security guard at a New Jersey rail yard. Part of my envy was rooted in growing up working in the family business, cleaning houses that I wished that we lived in. Im sure it was a similar situation for Brea. Of course, we werent quite as jealous when airplane tickets also had our

names on them, or when wed catch a ride with Trina in her Navigator to a UGA (University of Georgia) party in Athens. The three of us were very different, and to outsiders, they might not see the reason for our friendship. Back on Spelmans campus, our group had several nicknames with classmates, the most common being the Black Charlies Angels or the Neapolitan Girlz. And in most cases, they didnt mean it complimentary. Some people thought that we thought that we were better than everyone. But we didnt care. We knew that most of the people calling us the Black Charlies Angels or the Neapolitan Girlz were just some ugly-ass jealous females who wished they looked as good as us. Now that might sound arrogant, but should we be blamed because were fine with bangin bodies? Its not our fault. The Neapolitan Girlz nickname was a direct reference to the ice cream and to our different skin tones. Trina was dark-skinned, I was brown-skinned and Brea was light-skinned. All of us looked good enough to be models. Being from Georgia, Trina and I had the trademark Georgia-peach plump backsides, although Trinas was the real attention-getter. But not to be out-done, Brea had a NYC Big-Apple bottom that she paraded in her AppleBottoms jeans. All of us were around the same height and weight, about 58, 130-pounds. The only difference was how our weight was distributed. Trina was curvy in the hips. Brea had the biggest titties, D-cups, and I was somewhere in between.

After Trina had managed to bring the attention of just about every male eye on the beach to us at the bar that was facing the ocean, we decided to move to a table inside the beach-side restaurant.

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Good afternoon, my name is Donovan and Im proud to be your server today. Is there something I can get for you right now? asked the ultra-fine mid-20s waiter. Ummm-hmmph! Brea semi-coyly whispered under her breath with her mouth hidden by the menu. Though she tried to be slick about it, her voice carried and I knew that Donovan heard her. I twisted a piece of her thigh under the table to get her to stop it. Well take water with lemons for now, I said jumping in trying to prevent embarrassment that I felt was right around the corner. As the waiter left, all three of our heads watched as his sexy butt in black pants made its way to the kitchen. Though he was wearing a white short sleeve dress shirt, there was no hiding that kind of physique. His chiseled chest protruded out like a Jamaican mountain cliff. We could tell that his stomach was flat and ripped by the way the shirt was tucked tightly in the front of his pants and his arms seemed to be flexing even when he was holding his little note pad. Dayuumm! we all exhaled once he disappeared behind the swinging door of the kitchen. Whyd you pinch me, Jazmyn! complained Brea to me. Cause yo ass dont ever know how to whisper! I explained. He couldnt hear me, Brea attempted to convince us. Treee-nahh?? I said, calling her into our debate to cast the deciding vote. Trina was already nodding that I was right. Yeah, I think he heard you, she verbally confirmed. Yeah, well, what-evvah. proclaimed. I dont care, I want me a piece of that! Brea

How you just gon call it? This aint saving seats on a bus. How do you know that we dont want him? I playfully started an on-purpose argument with Brea, just so that wed be entertained by her response. Bitch please. You can go after him if you want to. Well just see who gets

him, she smiled back at me as she pulled her bikini top outward to show more cleavage. Spreading the material of her top so far apart that Brea was nearing nipple territory, if she so much as sneezed. She wasnt serious at all about competing with us over Donovan. Brea would be one to say, lets all fuck him. But thats one of the things I liked about her, her sense of humor. Yall know I got the advantage while were seated, Brea added, referring to her better cleavage. And Trina, dont you even think about standing up, faking like youre going to the bathroom when he comes back out. Brea had our stomachs hurting from laughter. This reminded me of last years Spring Break in Miami, which was also courtesy of Trinas dad. Just by being friends with Trina, unknowingly Brea and I were receiving Spring Break scholarships. Like last years trip and for that matter, any party that we went to, Brea was always the first one to hook-up with a man. Sometimes, I wondered if it was totally coincidental. When Donovan returned with our water, Brea turned on the sensuality big time. So what do you recommend, Donovan? Brea asked with a glowing smile while flipping her almost mid-back length hair behind her shoulder. Her newly displayed cleavage didnt go unnoticed as Donovan stammered on his words and clearly was torn between looking at Breas face or her chest.

40

As Donovan struggled to describe the days special, Brea acted as though the noise in the restaurant made it difficult for her to hear him. Deliberately she turned her head sideways and leaned forward as to bring her ear closer. But it was really to entice him by showing him a better view of her breasts. Brea was a master of this. It didnt faze me at all. Id seen her do it many times, as had Trina. However, Trina wasnt as cool at playing it off as me. Her smile leaked out in the form of folded lips and turning her head away as she tried to regain composure. As I watched her repeatedly lean forward and the material on her top slide, I heard a fire bell sounding siren go off in my head beep, beep, beep nipple alert! I tried to kick her foot under the table to warn her, but I was a fraction of a second too late. Her little ass pink-tan nipple had already popped out. But she quickly recovered it in her top. The moment was so fast that the exposure lasted only as long as Janet Jacksons Super Bowl mishap. After that, Donovans lips were now folded-in like Trinas, and I knew that Brea had him. After all of the time Donovan spent explaining the special and trying to ignore Breas bosom, she had the nerve to order just a salad. I ordered the jerk chicken and Trina had lobster. The moment after hed collected our menus and retreated back into the kitchen, we all giggled. Brea, youre wild! laughed Trina. I didnt do it on purpose! I swear! Brea said sincerely, as she scanned nearby tables to ascertain who else mightve gotten a free show. Though she remained cool throughout the awkward moment, I could see a little redness coming to Breas light-skinned face. I think she was truly embarrassed.

I tried to warn you! I said referring to my too late foot kick. Thats what you get for playing around! N-E-way. Well, thats it. Now Ima have to fuck him. Nobody gets a free look at me without me getting one back, Brea tried to confidently respond. Gurll, you talk so much shit! I laughed. Trina and I could always tell when Brea was uncomfortable, nervous or embarrassed because shed always respond more aggressively, trying to regain control of the situation. I dont think he even saw it. Right, Jazmyn? Trina lied about as poorly as shed played cool. Trina was good-hearted by nature. Sensing Breas embarrassment, she tried to ease her mind with a simple lie. But I knew Brea was far too sophisticated for that. Hell yeah he saw Breas little girl nipple, I said, tackling the moment head-on with a pseudo insult. Iont know how you got those giant ass titties with little girl nipples? I continued to jab at her until my comments finally forced her to give me the finger and respond with an insult of her own. You just mad because your nipples are as big as a damn Nicotrol patch! Brea fired back. Bitch Hoe Hey! Hey! Cmon were friends! Trina jumped in because she thought we were being serious. Trina always never seemed to get it. But I knew how to change situations or soften moments with Brea. And that way, was not the way Trina had tried with small town niceties.

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We ate our late lunch without further incident.

But before leaving, Brea

managed to coax information out of Donovan about a swimsuit party that was happening later that evening at Club Mnage that was located just two miles up the road from our hotel. Donovan wasnt sure whether or not hed be able to make the party because he had to work at his other job at Ricks Caf. We were all shocked that Donovan worked there because wed just gone to Ricks Caf yesterday and none of us wouldve forgotten seeing him. Ricks Caf was unique for more than its great food. It was built on a cliff-side and from the terrace of the restaurant you could see the most amazing sunset. The sun appeared to be lowered by a string. Not to mention that you could watch courageous cliff divers doing acrobatic dives into the water below. Back at the hotel, we congregated into Breas room. We all had separate rooms next to each other with adjoining doors. Breas room was the logical congregating spot because hers was between mine and Trinas. We took turns trying on different bikinis that we'd brought and used Breas room as the pseudo catwalk to get each others opinion before making our final selections. For Trina, no matter what she selected she looked, beautifully bootyful. We convinced her into wearing a bright blue, green and yellow string two-piece flower-print bikini. Mainly because it was cut lower on the hips. We also added a shear skirt-wrap to her ensemble to tone down her bootyness. The consensus for me was that I should wear a halter tankini that tied around the neck. The tankini was short, which allowed me to be subtle-sexy by showing a little skin on my stomach and back, without accentuating my lack of bust. I wasnt super small, a 34-B, but not quite a full-B.

Breas options were limitless. She looked great in every outfit. The only thing we vetoed was a tube-top outfit because of her large breasts, reminding her of the nipple-incident earlier. With a tube-top, we knew shed spend half the night

pulling the top up, especially while dancing. She decided to mix two bikinis. A high-cut maroon bikini bottom with a maroon and gold string bikini top that we tied so securely that at the end of the night, I thought she would have to cut her way out of it with a knife. After a brief touching up of our hair, we went down to the lobby and waited for a taxi.

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Chapter Two
When we made it to Club Mnage, all of us were badly in need of a drink to calm our nerves. The taxi rides in Jamaica were adventures in themselves. We thought it was bad when we took the minivan taxi from the Montego Bay Airport through the windy dirt roads on the way to our hotel in Negril. But that didnt even come close to riding in the one tonight. The two lane dirt roads were so narrow that when taxis traveling in opposite directions passed, it seemed like the distance that separated them was the width of a quarter. Not to mention, how fast the taxi drivers drove and the roads were extremely dark. Making it even worse was that they drove on the left side of the road, like in England. I had to close my eyes for most of the short ride and just hope that wed make it. The club was poppin that night. We were feelin the Hip-Hop American Music that was playing, but it had a Caribbean beat mixed in. Hey-aayy, Brea danced through the entrance to the beat of a calypso-version of Notorious B.I.G.s song, Big Poppa, with her hands in the air. I aint gon lie, Id never heard a version like that before so I was waving my hands in the air too. Lets get something to drink, Trina shouted over the loud music. I tapped Brea on the shoulder to let her know and we began navigating through people towards the bar. What yall want? I asked Brea and Trina, after finally getting the attention of the bartender. Iont know? Something fruity, Brea responded, still busy jammin to the B.I.G. song.

Trina was occupied as well checking out the scene of the club. After getting suggestions from the bartender, I ordered three Jamaican Fizzes. I dont really remember what was in it, but it was slushy, tangerine in color and flavor and potent from the very first sip. Not two seconds after wed touched glasses in a toast-like manner and taken the first sip, three fellas damn near knocked each other over as they approached. How you doin luv? spoke the guy who emerged first from the collision to Brea. Im alright, Brea returned. Cmon, he confidently stated with his mouth and his eyes as he reached for Breas hand to pull her to the dance floor. The other two guys paused like they were waiting to see if the first guy failed. When he didnt, they attempted to begin talking to Trina and I. But it was too late, theyd already proven that the race was for Brea, so Trina and I gave em no game. We werent gonna be a consolation prize. Can you believe that? Trina twisted her face at me referring to the weak-ass attempt of the two guys who just left. Dont even trip about it, I brushed it off. Jazmyn, Im just sayin, how are they gonna stand right here next to us and listen to the other guy shootin game at Brea, not say a word to us at all, until after Brea leaves? Trina spewed intensely. Girl, dont even let em get your blood pressure up. Theyre just weak. Drink your drink and forget about em, I urged. Right on cue, and proving my point, two different men came up to us. One of the good aspects of tonights swimsuit theme at the club was that the men were shirt-less.

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How are you fine ladies doing this evening? spoke one of the mid-20s men to me in a subtle Jamaican accent. Fine, we both sung back in unison. Besides being fine, I liked their style. The way theyd walked confidently over to us without trying to play it off by looking away. They stared directly at us the entire time as they approached. They were both tall, 62 or so. The one closest to me was dark chocolate, hair cut so close you could almost call it bald and had a body that had my nipples hardening. Plus, I loved his voice. It was deep-sounding, but not quite a basssound, yet a very full-resonant voice. My name is Simeon and this is my boy, Jamal, he said extending his hand to me in a gentlemanly fashion. I was thrown off as his friend Jamal said his hello because his voice was clearly American. Im Jazmyn and this is my girl, Trina, I returned, unable to contain a smile. Part of the reason for my grin was that as I shook his large hand I couldnt get out of my mind the myth of what large hands meant. Jazmyn, a pretty name for a pretty lady, Simeon complimented. Thank you, I blushed back. Jaz, were going to the dance floor. Watch my drink? Trina informed me of her plans with Jamal who I assumed had been just as charming to her as Simeon was to me. Yeah, Ill watch it, I guaranteed as I placed a cocktail napkin over the top of Trinas glass. Are you from Jamaica? I couldnt help but ask. Why? Cause you have a Jamaican accent

Actually Im from Houston. Houston? I jumped-in out of disbelief. Yes Houston. My parents grew-up in Jamaica and I still have some family here. But, I was born in Houston, after my family moved to the States. I wouldve sworn you were from Jamaica I get that a lot. I dont really hear the accent myself. I suppose that I got it from my parents. So what brings you to Jamaica? Simeon questioned. Me and my girls are on Spring-Break. How bout you? Id said without thinking about how revealing my age to him would impact me. Momentarily, he did pause before responding, because I think that he thought I was older. A little business, but mostly a vacation. Jamal and I work together and hed never been to Jamaica, so here we are, he said coolly, but I still could tell that he was pondering something in his head. Fortunately, he wasnt immediately deterred by my age. It wasnt like I could guarantee that Trina wasnt giving our ages away to Jamal anyway. So there was no sense in lying. What university are you attending? he asked as a prelude to the next question I knew would follow to ascertain my age. Im a sophomore at Spelman College in Atlanta, I responded, saving time by answering both questions, the one hed asked and the one he was about to ask. Oh, Spelman, hmm, thats a good school, he said as though he was thinking about the academic program of the school. But, I knew the hmm in his sentence had more to do with the sophomore part.

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There was a moment of silence, as I allowed him the opportunity to decide whether or not he was going to continue pursuing me, by turning my attention to the dance floor. Brea was really startin to show-off her skillz on the dance floor, but the mysterious man that whisked her away was holding his own as well. Even people dancing next to them were admiring their flirtatious moves as Brea turned it around and backed it up on him. And he didnt back away at all, playfully pretending to be spanking her ass with his hand. Brea smirked appreciation for his confidence with a smile looking over her shoulder back at him. Trina wasnt a bad dancer either, but not as good as Brea. Her dancing was less risky in style, mostly swaying of the hips with the occasional bounce. It was more suited for a Blue-Lights-In-The-Basement party. Im sorry, Jazmyn, I shouldve asked you, did you want to dance? Simeon resumed our conversation. Oh, thats okay. No, I gotta watch Trinas drink, I said, relieved that he might still be interested. I can buy her another one if you wanted to dance, he generously offered. Damn, I like this brother!, I thought to myself. So, what do you do in Houston? I innocently asked, but cringed my nose when I thought about the timing of my question. Hed just offered to pay for a new drink just so that I could dance at my convenience. I feared my question about his occupation could be misconstrued, causing him to think that I was a gold-digger. Im a Marketing Executive for Matthews, Winwood & Associates. We deal mostly with promotional campaigns in the entertainment industry, he spoke with interest.

Really? It sounds interesting, I said intrigued, but really I didnt have a clue as to what he was talking about. I think he could sense that I was faking, so he didnt make me suffer and clarified. Basically, what we do is anything from promotion of music concerts, national television ads for sports, magazine advertising and handle entertainers and athletes career development. We help keep an entertainer or athlete in the lime-light by getting interviews and endorsement deals for them, Simeon explained. Ohhh, I get it. So, youre like an agent, I simplified all that hed just said. Yee-ah. Sort-of. But its not that clear-cut. Many of our clients have agents to negotiate their deals. What I do has more to do with the clients image. Its kinda tough to explain. Though I still didnt have a full grasp of his occupation, I chose to let it go because it was drawing more attention to our age difference again. It was as though he was my guidance counselor explaining career options. So, how long have you been a MarketingumAgent? I said, stumbling to recall his job title. Marketing Executive, he corrected my botching of it. Four years. I was a Music-major with a minor in Marketing at the University of Houston. After I didnt get drafted, I decided that I didnt want to spend years toiling in the NBDL, National Basketball Developmental League, dreaming about playing in the NBA. So, I chose to begin my career. Oh, youre a basketball player? I said with stars in my eyes. Was, a basketball player, he stated. Thats cool. Being a former ball-player certainly explained his incredible physique and his confident demeanor when he first approached.

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Was Jamal a ball player, too? I inquired. Yeah, we were college teammates. But now were going to team-up by

opening our own firm next month, he said proudly. Thats Wassup, I cheered his entrepreneurial spirit. Are you sure, you dont want to dance? Simeon asked looking at his watch. It was just a few minutes past mid-night. Maybe, later. Im fine just talking, I said with admiration. Well, I hate to say it, but Jamal and I have an early-morning meeting with one of our clients, Air Jamaica Airlines, so Im going to have to get him and were going to have to leave. But Id like to get together with you, if youre going to be in Negril for a while? he charmingly asked. That sounds nice. Id like that, I said with a slight tilt of my head. I wrote down my cell phone number and the name of my hotel on a napkin, so that he could call me either way. Before he left to retrieve Jamal and Trina from the dance floor, he gave me the warmest secure hug, as my hands casually rubbed the skin of his shirtless broadshouldered back. His hug wasnt exactly a quick one, yet it didnt exceed the level of our acquaintance. It was perfect, lasted about 6-seconds, his hands gently supported the small of my back and his body felt so good that I didnt wanna let go. To say nothing of the cologne he was wearing that was seductively tickling my nose. I was in a glowing mood as I watched his sexy ass walk to the edge of the dance floor to get Jamals attention by pointing at his watch. Jamal got the message, made his apologies to Trina and guided her by the hand off the dance floor passing right by Brea who was now dancing with a different guy from the one that whisked her away earlier.

Brea was always the life of any party and one never to commit to the first guy that came up to her. After Jamal gave Trina a good-bye hug that included a peck on her cheek, she was grinning the entire way back to the bar where I was standing. I was smiling too, because she was walking differently than normal just in case Jamal was still watching her and he was. When she got to me, I answered the question that was on the tip of her tongue. Yes, hes watching, I quickly said, with my glass to my mouth to shield my lips just in case Jamal and Simeon were long-distance lip readers. Trina turned around in their direction and we both gave them our most elegant four-fingers-simultaneously-folding-down wave good-bye. Gurll, Im digging them, I confided, after I was sure they were gone. Me, too. Did you give Simeon your number? Psst. Gurrl now you know, I said in a manner that indicated she shouldve known that I had. Do you know what they do? Trina was excited to share. Simeon told me! I returned, matching her enthusiasm. Now thats the type of man Im looking for A real baller You know what Im saying? she added, raising her hand to receive a gentle high-five. I gave her dap, because it was true. At Spelman, we had plenty of guys shooting game at us, but they were always broke. Some of them were college students, so that was understandable, but the movies still cost money. Brea, Trina and I had stand-by men in our lives. They werent our real

boyfriends. Usually they were older men in their late 20s and had good jobs. They were able to afford things the college boys could not. They provided concert tickets, restaurant meals and shopping money.

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I didnt see anything wrong with that. It wasnt like they werent going after us because they figured that we were easy because we were young college girls. As far as I was concerned, they got something and we got something.

Whats poppin? Brea said, with an arm around each of our shoulders. Shed scared the shit out of us because shed snuck-up on us when our backs were turned. Dont do that shit Brea! I scolded her surprise appearance tactic. Quit trippin, she returned. Aint nothin poppin with us. Whats poppin with you, hoe! I said, making reference to the multiple men shed been flirting and dancing with. Now why I gotta be a hoe, bitch? Just because a sistahs getting her groove on? I saw yall shooting game at those niggas that just left, she informed us. I hated when she used the word niggas, even though I know she didnt mean anything by it. Yes, we were getting better acquainted with some nice brothas, I said extraformal, just to playfully piss her off. Get yo groove on, getting acquainted, same shit! I just came back to tell you the party is about to get crunk. Them niggas are gone now, so its time to get crunk! Brea declared. What have you been drinking? Trina asked. I aint had shit but that one drink. Im just saying, were in

JamaicaJamaica!!...Were young and sexy. We need to be doin our thing, nahmean? Brea tried to pump us up. Awight, awight. Lets get us another drink, I conceded to her lets-get-wild plan.

Mid-way through our drink the DJ announced the sign-up of the Booty-Shaking Contest that had a $200 cash prize. Aw hell naw! Trina, you gotta do it! Brea slurred encouragement. Why me? Trina questioned. I just laughed because her response was just reflex. Why you?? Have you looked at yo ass lately? Gurll, they giving away 2bills!! That shit is yours! Cant nobody in here touch you! Brea spoke the truth. Youll win easy! I chimed in, curious to see if we could convince her to actually do it. Thats easy for yall to say, Trina said with some hesitation. Whatdya worried about? You dont know any of the niggas up in here. If it were a wet T-shirt contest, I would be all over that shit. Id get my money! Brea said with all seriousness. You gotta do it. Rep the A-T-L. Rep Spelman. Hell, Rep the whole damn USA, shit! I said, increasing the urgency. Brea laughed because I sounded like I was giving a campaign speech about patriotism and not a booty-shaking contest. Because Trina didnt respond, Brea felt that wed made enough progress. Jaz, go sign Trina up before its too late. Ill get her another drink, Brea instructed. Trina didnt tell me not to, so I did.

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PURCHASE

NOW