“Miss James, are you willing to sit down with me and give your side of the story?” the reporter from the crime scene asked.
“I don’t have a side. What are you talking about?”
Havana was an excellent reporter, but she had a reputation for getting a story by any means. I’d seen her on TV plenty, always turning the volume up when she spoke. Everything about Havana was attractive, especially her drive to do the job.
“Was the crime scene not one of your developmental properties?”
“Why would that make me ‘have a side’ in this conversation? It’s not like I’m the one who put the body there.”
“Do you have any information on who did?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but maybe you should do your job and go find out instead of harassing me.”
“Harassing is a stretch, Miss James. I’ve only reached out twice. What will your company do about the backlash? Don’t you want to get ahead of this before it gets into the wrong hands? I can help you clear up the drama and steer the conversation.”
“You’re a reporter. Your only goal here is to look out for your best interest and do your job. You’re not about to twist my words and make this about me somehow. Whoever left the body there needs to be found because if they hurt one person, they could hurt another.”
“Meet me at the TeaCup, 8 p.m., I’ll be wearing a red blazer. We can talk more about this. Maybe you can help me find who we’re looking for.”
“I have nothing to do with this. I don’t care—”
“See you in an hour, Miss James,” she stated before hanging up.
Was this bitch serious? I groaned before hitting the FaceTime button on the Phat Girls Club group chat. Seconds later, Ashara came into the camera, giggling and pushing her white man away. Sharanna answered, and I could see she was in a dimly lit restaurant, and Linya and Tiffani popped up in one frame together, sitting in a bar.
“Well, thanks for the invite.” I rolled my eyes. “Where are you Shar?”
“I’m on a date, waiting for him to get back to the table,” she responded.
“The lawyer?” Ashara asked.
“Yes! I think I’m in love.”
“Well, it’s only been two weeks,” Tiffani laughed. “And y’all be talking about me and Nika.”
Tiff and I were the only lesbians in the group, but Linya and Natima dabbled around in bisexual activities here and there too. Still, they chose to want lives with men. I’d tried it and turns out… That’s just not for me. Women were my thing, and I’d been true to that ever since I came out on my twenty birthday. Were my parents happy? Absolutely not. A year later, my mother was practically trying to hook me up with every gay woman she knew. At thirty-two, she was still trying to work her magic. My dad just said he knew a nice woman would wife-me up soon, or maybe I was the one who would be asking for her hand in marriage.
I was losing hope. Everybody had an agenda.
Arriving at TeaCup, I looked around until I spotted her. Havana Jenkins. She was a reporter for CW News, and she looked better in person than I would have imagined. Even under the dimly lit lights, her beauty was a highlight, and I felt myself get a little nervous as I sauntered to the table in the back where she was.
When she noticed me, a slow smile crept across her beautiful face. There was something in her eyes that sent an electric shock through my body. She stood quickly, never taking her eyes off of me as she reached for my hand and shook it.
“Wow,” she replied. “I’m so glad you decided to meet with me, Miss James.” She was still holding my hand, and I knew immediately that she felt the same attraction I was feeling.
“Can I get you ladies anything?” A petite waitress walked up to us, breaking us out of our trance.
We both finally sat, and I ordered a vodka tonic and Havana grabbed a martini. When the waitress left us, our conversation still didn’t start immediately. We sat there, taking each other in. The outfit that she wore was a lot different from how I saw her on TV, and I figured that it was her just trying to tone it down to get information.
The problem here was that I didn’t have any information. I walked into one of my properties, and the same was insane. When I checked the kitchen refrigerator, the sound that left my body echoed in the empty home and the neighbors ran over to see what was going on. I don’t even remember who called the police or how I made it out of the house. For days, I was just stuck and couldn’t believe I witnessed that. Two weeks later, reporters were still trying to get the full story. Only, they’d all been told all that I knew.
“Are you going to ask me questions?” I finally asked.
“Are you single?” she blurted out.
“Wh-what?” I stuttered.
“Are. You. Single?”
“What does that have to do with the body?”
“I have all I need with the body. Publishing the story tomorrow. Are you single and do you only like women?” she asked, moving to cross her legs under the table and leaning in, closing more of the distance between us.
“Is this a—”
“I lied. You know, about why I wanted to meet with you tonight. I apologize that this is under false pretenses, and I’m sure what you went through was very shocking, but I saw you and needed to know you.”
To say I was stunned was not enough. My breath was lacking, my palms sweaty, and my pussy… It was throbbing. This woman was beautiful, and lying because she wanted to ask me out? I should’ve been a lot more pissed than I was because what if I wasn’t single? What if I didn’t like women?
Right, that doesn’t even sound right. I was into girls way before I came out. I had a crush on Tiffani when we were in the third grade, and we dated secretly and briefly in the ninth grade. When I came out to my parents, she was right there with me. We’d been best friends since we were eight, and if I told her what was happening right now, she would be ready to fight Havana. She’d also be telling me I need to date or at least get fucked.
“I’m not interested,” I said, standing to leave.
“Well, I am.” She grabbed my arm. “And I have a habit of always getting what I want.”
Tuh! I rolled my eyes and walked out of the restaurant. She was clearly playing, and I was still traumatized from the shit that happened. It was rude and disrespectful, and she could never have me.
“Oh fuck!” she cried out, pushing my head away from her pussy.
I always got what I wanted, and seeing Nika James on TV, telling her story, I had to have her. It was probably weird, but I’d covered some weird stories and if I was attracted, I was attracted. Nika was something different though. As a very popular realtor in the city, one I still had to look up because she was somehow so ducked off, I was able to dig up information on her.
She definitely liked women, she was indeed single, and I knew her mother.
Having her spread out, in her home, and feasting between her legs was on my mental vision board the moment her mother showed me a picture of her. I was instantly obsessed and needed to know everything about her.
I did feel bad that she’d gotten wrapped up in some bullshit, but there was a gang on the Westside that was leaving bodies all over. She’d just been unfortunate to be the next location-victim. My boss advised me to just leave it be since we had the story, but I still wanted to know Nika.
“You taste so damn good, girl,” I praised her, backing away for just a moment to insert my middle and ring finger. I twisted and twirled my fingers inside of her, fiercely pumping before I turned to do a “come here” motion.
I watched as her body arched from the bed and her legs felt open more. Working her, I continued to take in the few, thick thighs, belly, and a whole lot of ass. I was definitely an ass lesbian. Most people saw me and thought I was some pretty, innocent angel who was a submissive wife to a husband… Until I got into my mode.
I was no better than a man, and I took pleasure in pleasing a beautiful, thick-ass black woman. Her style with the pink hair, face beat, and thick lashes… That turned me on. The way she walked out of the restaurant last week, she probably felt she would never have to speak to me again.
Her mother had already given me the approval to date her, and I’d acknowledged that I was extremely intrigued. Being there, between her legs, I was happy that I followed through.
“You’re so damn pretty,” I stated before kissing her clit, applying pressure to finally send her over the edge.
“Havanaaa!” she hollered, bucking beneath my touch. I felt the slickness coating my fingers and I waited until she was done to remove them and slurp my finger.
“Damn, girl,” I praised again, standing to position myself with one of my legs between hers and the other over.
“Make it good,” she demanded, triple-D titties heaving up and down.
“I’m always great,” I responded, positioning myself to tribe with her. When I felt that wet shit against my wetness, I went to work grinding against her clit.
Her hands were everywhere and so were mine. We went… and went… until we were both crying out in ecstasy. Three rounds later, I lay next to her, wondering what was going through her mind. Because in mine, I was ready to go again. I could fuck her all day.
Moments later, I felt her shaking and thought she was still shuttering from the orgasm, but looking up, I saw her face was wet.
“Hey, hey, Neek, what’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up and grabbing her face gently to turn her face towards me. I wiped her tears.
“I’m just thinking about the fucking body.”
I was not expecting that. It kind of disappointed me that my sex wasn’t good enough to keep her mind off of that.
“I don’t mean to ruin this moment. You are so damn good at what you do. I just… When I look at you, no matter how beautiful you are, I can’t shake what started this.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Let me be here for you.” I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s gonna come to a close soon. The police are getting close.”
She looked at me, and I regretted saying anything. I wasn’t supposed to say a thing about the case to anyone until I was in front of the cameras again with a solid plan.
“What? How do you know? What’s going on?”
“Nika, I can’t tell you, but just know… You won’t have to be scared for much longer. Have you been going to a therapist?” I asked, trying to change the topic.
“Who is the prime suspect? Like, I know the gangs have something to do with it, but who?”
“Hey, I’m serious. I can’t tell you much of anything.”
“You can fuck me and be intimate, but you can’t tell me about a case that affects my life too?”
“C’mon, Nika, don’t do that. This is my job.”
“Right, and I’m just some random girl you wanted to fuck. Get out, Havana.” She got up and went to the bathroom.
“Nika?!” I called after her, trying to reach her before the door closed. “Please, you have to understand.”
She’d locked it and was crying. I heard the sniffles, and my heart broke a bit. We were having an amazing time, and now the actions of my cousin were fucking things up. It was probably best I walked away anyway because when the world found out that Juke, leader of the Westside gang was my cousin, my career was going to be questioned. People would want to know if I was hiding details and not giving it my all. I just couldn’t tell Nika that it was someone in my family who had traumatized her.
Especially, not after doing the things to her body I’d just done.
“Nika, baby, please come out and talk to me.”
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