Read Material Girl 2: Labels and Love Online

Authors: Keisha Ervin

Material Girl 2: Labels and Love (20 page)

BOOK: Material Girl 2: Labels and Love

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“Ooh.” He bent down and picked up one of the Louboutins.

“Okay, the house is on fire. I only have time enough to grab a Diana Ross CD and one of these boots.” He pointed at his right foot and held up the Louboutin. “Which one do I take? Go!” He pointed his index finger at Bernard like they were on a game show.

“I would think you would grab the baby first.” Bernard gave him the screw face.

“After that?” Tee-Tee flicked his wrist in a dismissive way.

“The brown ones,” Bernard answered dryly.

“Because the gray pair washes me out?” Tee-Tee squinted and pursed his lips.

“Babe, either way, you look good. Everything you try on looks hot on you.”

“Awwww, boo, look at you being all sweet to me.” Tee-Tee leaned over for a kiss, but Bernard pulled his head back.

He loved Tee-Tee with his all of his heart, but being an openly gay man in St. Louis, a still somewhat conservative city, was hard to deal with. Bernard hated the stares and the whispers they got whenever they went out. On occasion, they’d even been called fags, and being the alpha male he was, Bernard handled his business when it came to bigotry. But he couldn’t fight the world, so he figured, why bring on added attention if it wasn’t necessary?

“You actin’ funny,” Tee-Tee said, rattled.

“Nah, I’m just ready to go.” Bernard partially told the truth.

“Then give me a kiss.” Tee-Tee stuck out his lips and tried once more.

“I’m good.” Bernard turned his face and noticed a middle-aged woman giving them the stink face.

“Really, Bernard?” Tee-Tee snapped, standing up straight.

“Pound it out.” Bernard made a fist.

“You out yo’ damn mind.” Tee-Tee looked at him like he was crazy. “So what? Since we out in public you can’t give me no kiss?”

“You know it’s not like that,” Bernard tried to reason.

“Uh-uh. Just stop talkin’.” Tee-Tee stuck his palm in Bernard’s face. “I need some time for this wound to become a scar.” He spun around dramatically, whipping his hair like Willow Smith.

Bernard bounced Princess Gaga on his knee and shook his head. He didn’t feel like it, but for the rest of the day he and Tee-Tee would be arguing. He just hoped that eventually Tee-Tee would see his point of view. If not, this would be something that haunted their marriage forever.

Thanksgiving had come and gone, and Dylan still hadn’t received news on whether The Food Network would renew her show. Thank God her bakery was still pulling in major revenue. The public was fascinated with her and wanted to catch a glimpse of the woman who wore the scarlet letter on her chest. The paparazzi stayed camped out in front and in back of the building. Disinclined to being vilified or made fun of in the press, Dylan continued to hide in shame.

She ran the bakery by phone. She trusted her employees completely, and so far, they’d done a great job keeping the business intact. The vagueness of where her entertainment career was heading still haunted her. Sleep evaded her; she couldn’t eat and she’d begun to have migraine headaches. Dylan was in so much pain that Billie had to come get Mason because she was unable to take care of him.

Lying in bed with the lights turned off, Dylan lay sound asleep with the covers over her head in Cruz’s arms. Since their date, he hadn’t left her side. Any time he could spend with her and Mason, he cherished. The fact that they hadn’t had sex didn’t even cross his mind. When it happened, it would only be an added bonus. She was special, and Cruz wanted to take his time with her.

He wanted to show her the world and everything it had to offer. Often he wondered why it’d taken him so long to come across a woman like her. She made him want to be better. He could see himself settling down and becoming a family man. The bad boy in him still lingered in his veins, but Cruz was doing a good job at keeping him hidden.

Awaking, Dylan opened her eyes and smiled. She loved waking up beside Cruz, plus the medication she’d taken had kicked in and kicked her migraine to the curb. Dylan ran her index finger lightly across Cruz’s lips. All of a sudden, he’d taken her finger in his warm mouth, licked it, and slid it out, then began kissing the palm of her hand.

“You nasty,” she teased.

“You like it.” He kissed her hand once more. “You feelin’ better?”

“Yes, thank God.” She sat up.

“I got a surprise for you.” He climbed out of the bed.

Dylan watched as he lit candles that had been strategically placed around the room while she was asleep.

“I know that wit’ your headaches light can be a bit much, so I decided we’d do everything by candlelight tonight.”

“Did you really?” She blushed, feeling tingly inside.

“I got something else for you too.” He went into the bathroom and drew a steaming hot bubble bath.

Once the tub was filled, Dylan went inside and closed the door. Undressed, she stepped into the water and sat down. The soothing hot water felt wonderful on her skin. Covered by a sea of bubbles, she called out for Cruz to come in. To her surprise, he walked inside with no shirt and just his jeans and sneakers on. Jesse Boykins III “Come To My Room” serenaded them while he sat on the side of the tub.

“Before you get to trippin’, it’s not what you think. I just didn’t want to get my shirt wet while I bathe you.”

“Who said I was gon’ let you bathe me?” she smirked.

“You ain’t got no choice.” Cruz picked up a bar of soap, dipped it into the water, and lathered it in his hands.

Dylan watched closely as his long fingers glided across her chest and down to her breasts. Cruz playfully toyed with her nipples while placing wet kisses onto the side of her neck. Dylan wanted him so bad her head began to spin. Then his hand slipped down her stomach and said hello to her clit. With every caress, she melted like chocolate. Needing her as much as she needed him, Cruz scooped Dylan up into his arms and carried her back to the bed.

Her glistening wet body lay before him, dying to be sexually pleased. Cruz couldn’t get the rest of his clothes off fast enough. The scent of her skin was inebriating. He kneeled on the bed. His eyes devoured her inch by inch. Lifting her leg, Dylan ran her toes up his sculpted chest. Cruz took her foot into his hands and kissed all the way from her ankle to the inner part of her thigh.

Dylan closed her eyes and clutched the sheets. Cruz was kissing her thigh as if it were her mouth, and she cherished every second of it. With her thick thighs in the cusp of his strong hands, Cruz glanced up into Dylan’s eyes, smiling. The look of sheer desire on her face said it all. She was dying for him to plant his face in between her thighs.

With velvet ease, Cruz’s tongue licked the lips of Dylan’s pussy. Her back instantly arched. Each flicker of his wet tongue felt like electricity. After succumbing to orgasmic bliss, Dylan lay on her side. Cruz swiftly placed on a condom. Lying behind her, he entered her from behind.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Dylan moaned, closing her eyes tightly.

Cruz’s dick was creating a world of havoc and torture on her insides. With each stroke, Dylan lost more of her control. Her body was so hot. The lips of her pussy felt so weak. She ran her tongue across her upper lip, then bit her bottom lip. Cruz gripped her thighs and thrust his dick in deeper. He wanted to get to the very core of her.

Pure lust fueled his desire to fuck her until she screamed out his name. Each touch of her skin sent searing flashes of heat through his veins. Rocking to the beat they’d created, Cruz and Dylan tried their best to suppress the impending orgasm that was rapidly approaching. Neither wanted the stirring commotion in their private parts to end.

But as always, the moment where an explosion of fireworks went off inside their bodies happened.

“Cruz!” Dylan screamed out in agony.

As the dust cleared, Dylan’s body quaked in the aftermath. Cruz planted sensual kisses along her neck and shoulder as his muscles began to relax. Dylan turned around and faced him. Cruz smiled. The look in her eyes spoke volumes. She wanted more, and he was just the man to give her what she wanted.

“Don’t leave while you’re hot that’s how Mase screwed up.”

Kanye West, “Devil In A New Dress”

Billie had outdone herself. She’d invited twenty of Angel’s closest family members and friends to Sleek, a restaurant found exclusively at Lumière Place Casino & Hotel downtown. Internationally renowned Chef Hubert Keller was the proprietor. He and his team had created a chic and stylish dining experience that patrons loved. The restaurant and ultra lounge consisted of custom butcher-block tables, semiprivate dining areas, and a “liquor library” visible from virtually anywhere in the restaurant.

Being the loving sister she was, Billie rented out the private dining section for their pleasure. That night, they would dine on Steak Tartare, gnocchi, pannedseared scallops, and Kobe beef. For dessert, Billie had the kitchen prepare one of Angel’s favorite’s: crème brûlée. Fresh from his flight, Angel stood off to the side talking to Knox when he spotted Dylan coming his way.

Angel couldn’t believe his eyes. Dylan was doing the absolute most. Long, wavy curls framed her face. She’d lost most of the extra baby weight she’d gained and was wearing the hell out of a backless, silk, gray Thayer halter dress. The dress featured a deep V-neck which exposed her bronze, luscious breasts. At the skirt of the dress was a thigh-high split that showcased her toned legs. To complete the ensemble, she wore a Felix Rey lace clutch and Giuseppe Zanotti laser-cut high heel sandals.

Angel couldn’t have been prouder to call her his son’s mother. Her presence took up all the space in the room. She unknowingly captivated everyone in her path. For weeks, he’d been yearning to see her face in the flesh. Skyping and talking on the phone every day just hadn’t been enough. Now he would finally have her all to himself, and Angel planned to make the most of the moment.

“Hi,” she waved awkwardly.

“You can do better than that. Give me a hug.” He scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around in a circle.

Placing her back down, he whispered in her ear, “Damn, you smell good.”

“Thanks.” She pulled away from him anxiously.

Dylan hadn’t expected for the feelings she’d buried to resurface upon seeing his face. She thought that she’d moved on, but the hold Angel had on her seemed to be indestructible.

“You look good. How was your flight home?” She tried to make idle conversation.

“It was cool. I can’t wait to see li’l man later on.”

“Yeah, about that—” She looked down shuffling her feet.

“Hold up.” He cut her off. “There’s something I need to do. Can I have everyone’s attention?” he said, walking to the center of the room.

Everybody stopped doing what they were doing and gave him their full attention.

“While I was gone I had a lot of time on my hands to think. With the kind of lifestyle that I live, things can get kind of lonely at times. You can become very homesick, but I realized that I’m most happy when I’m here with Dylan and my boy, who, by the way, looks more and more like me every day,” he bragged.

“Get back to the point!” Billie yelled from across the room.

“My big head sister, y’all!” Angel joked, pointing at her.

“What I’m sayin’ is . . .” He placed his hand inside of his pant pocket.

“Dylan, you’re my best friend, and I can’t think of—” He stopped mid-speech and gazed lovingly into her eyes, but Angel’s words became lost when he noticed some dude walk in behind Dylan and wrap his arms around her waist.

Avoiding Angel’s eye contact, Dylan swallowed the huge lump in her throat. She had seen the look of pain in his eyes. She’d planned on telling him about Cruz, but every time they talked, the words just wouldn’t come out.

“Umm . . . Dylan, you’re a great mom.” Angel took his hand out of his pocket.

“And I can’t say thank you enough for taking such good care of our boy. Salute!” He held up his glass.

“Salute!” all the partygoers yelled.

Dylan felt like shit. She never wanted him to find out about Cruz this way. But she’d given him his chance, and he’d passed. She couldn’t live her life waiting for him to figure out whether he wanted her. Like a kid in trouble, Dylan held her head down as Angel approached.

“You wanna introduce me to your friend?” he asked stone-faced, gulping down the rest of his drink.

“Cruz, this is Angel, Mason’s dad, and Angel, this is Javier Cruz.” Dylan pointed back and forth between the two men.

“Her boyfriend.” Cruz stuck out his hand for a shake.

“I’m sorry, yes, my boyfriend.” Dylan blinked her eyes nervously. “He plays soccer for Spain,” she added, as if that would make things better.

“What’s up wit’ you?” Angel gave him a head nod instead. “Let me holla at you for a second, Dylan,” he said, turning his back and heading toward the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” Dylan assured Cruz by rubbing his forearm.

Angel gazed absently out at the casino. A million thoughts ran through his mind. He’d fucked up royally by taking his precious time with Dylan. He’d been a fool to think he’d return and she’d be waiting with open arms in anticipation of him saying they can be together now. He just assumed that she’d hold on a little while longer, but evidently, she’d grown tired of holding out for hope for something that was so unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Cruz sooner.” Dylan stood beside him.

“Is it serious?” Angel stared straight ahead.

“It’s starting to be,” she uttered, unable to breathe.

“You happy?” he asked after a pause.

“Yeah . . . I am.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” Angel uttered, feeling like he’d been stabbed in the chest 150 times.

Dylan was at a loss for words. She’d dreaded this day for weeks.

“I just—”

“It’s cool, Ma.” Angel finally gave her eye contact.

Tears filled Dylan’s eyes as she gazed back at him. She could feel pieces of her heart break with every breath she took. This was it—the moment where reality became really real. She’d given him her heart on a silver platter, and he’d sent it back with not even a glance. It was unfortunate, but she’d moved on, and now Angel was left suffering the consequences of his decision.

“I better go.” Dylan blinked away her tears, swallowing hard. “I just stopped by to say hi.” She placed her clutch underneath her arm. “Mason’s at home with my mom if you wanna pick him up.”

“Most definitely. I was planning on gettin’ him for a few days, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” She bit her bottom lip. “He misses you.”

“I miss him too.” Angel stared directly into her eyes.

“You ready, babe?” Cruz put his hand on the small of Dylan’s back.

“Yeah, see you later,” she said to Angel before walking off.

Angel leaned against the bar and reached inside his pocket and pulled out a small box. The velvet burned against his skin. He’d planned on giving her his all that night. He was done with running and hiding. Dylan was his, and no amount of reasoning was going to change that. The ten-carat Harry Winston diamond ring he’d picked out was sure to prove it, but now, shit was all fucked up.

Angel wanted nothing more than to turn back the hands of time. He would do it just to make her his baby again. He would apologize for putting her through the agony of seeing him with Milania when all he really wanted was to be with Dylan. He’d hold her in his arms for all the lonely nights she spent alone. But now, everything he wished for would never come true. Dylan belonged to another, and the thought of what he and she could’ve been was now just that—a mere thought.

Alone in their room, Kenzie and Kaylee sat on the floor playing Barbies. Their room was adorably cute. The walls were painted hot pink with huge white polka dots. Sheer curtains graced their windows. On one side of the room was a bookcase with storage shelves hidden down below. Both girls had their very own antique daybed with beautiful shades of green, black, and white pillows and matching covers on the beds. A custom-designed rug with a flower insert lay in the middle of the floor. To complete the room were two nightstands and two dressers with an array of stuffed animals on each.

“So you be Chris Brown, and I’ma be Rihanna,” Kaylee said, handing her sister a black Ken doll and a pink Corvette.

“Why I always gotta be Chris Breezy?” Kenzie spat back with an attitude.

“’Cause you got him down pat, plus I gotta use the rest of the Barbies to be the paparazzi when he go in for questioning.”

“All right,” Kenzie pouted, dressing the Ken doll in its Clive Davis Grammy Pre-Party outfit.

“I know you gon’ tell me what Jaden said to you at recess,” Kaylee popped her lips.

“He asked me would I sit with him tomorrow at lunch.” A smile spread across Kenzie’s face.

“Ooooooooooooh, you gotta boyfriend! You gotta boyfriend!” Kaylee bounced up and down. “I can see it now. Y’all gon’ be the new Nas and Kelis when we get big!”

“They gotta divorce, dummy!” Kenzie pushed her sister in the arm.

“Oh,” Kaylee twisted up her lip. “My bad.”

“Aha!” Kyrese kicked open their door. “I’m tellin’ Mama!”

“Tellin’ Mama what?” Kenzie rolled her neck.

“That you got a boyfriend, li’l ugly girl.” He kicked over their dollhouse.

“No, I don’t!” she yelled, whacking him in the leg with her hand.

“Yes, you do.” He sat down on her bed. “Who is he?”

“I’m not tellin’ you,” Kenzie snapped.

“You might as well tell me ’cause you gon’ get in trouble anyway.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just this boy that’s in my class that I—”

“Looooooooove?” Kyrese crossed his hands on his chest and batted his eyes.

“I don’t love him!” Kenzie shouted, flushing with distress.

“Have you kissed him yet?” Kyrese probed.

“No,” she said defiantly.

“What you waiting on?”

“Are you retarded? I’m nine.”

“And you’ve never kissed a boy?” Kyrese bucked his eyes.

“No. Have you kissed a girl?”

“Yeah, like when I was five. What can I say? I’m a ladies’ man.” He popped his collar. “So I would advise you to kiss him tomorrow at lunch or else he’s gonna think you’re a lesbian.”

“He’s not going to think I’m a lesbian.”

“I thought you were,” Kaylee spoke up. “Look at the sandals you have on,” she pointed at Kenzie’s Birkenstocks.

“Shut up, li’l stupid li’l girl!” Kenzie threw the Ken doll at her but missed.

Before Kaylee could retaliate, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” Kenzie ran down the stairs.

At the door, she set her hand on the knob and said, “State yo’ name, fool!”

“The original Sasha Fierce.”

“Tee-Tee!” Kenzie beamed, opening the door.

“You look cute, pretty girl.” He kissed her on the cheek. “But why you got on them Birkenstocks?” He tuned up his face.

“Huh?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “My daddy bought me these.”

“Yo’ daddy was tryin’ to be funny then.” He came inside and took off his coat. “Where yo’ mama at?”

“Her and Knox in the room taking one of they grunting naps again.”

“Oh, God,” Tee-Tee chuckled, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Go knock on they door and tell her I’m here.”

“Okay.” Kenzie spun around and ran back up the steps.

Half an hour, later Billie strolled down the stairs feeling as light as a feather.

“Somebody just got some.” Tee-Tee arched his eyebrow while on the phone with Dylan.

“Sholl did,” Billie glowed, dressed in only a silk robe and high-heeled, slide-in sandals with fluffy white fur on the toes. “What you doing over here?” She sat down next to him on the couch.

“Hold on. I’m finna put Dylan on speakerphone.” Tee-Tee pressed a button.

“Hey, sexy!” Dylan spoke to Billie.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Billie spoke back.

“Listen, y’all.” Tee-Tee crossed his legs and tucked an imaginary long strand of hair behind his ear. “I don’t know what the hell Bernard problem is. Lately, he don’t wanna show me affection in public. Do you know this Negro tried to give me a fist pound the other day?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Billie shrugged her arms.

“First of all, gay men don’t fist pound, and second of all, gay men don’t fist pound.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like PDA,” Dylan said.

“I mean, since I’ve known him, he’s never really been big on public affection, but that just makes me feel like he’s ashamed of me—hell, of us.” Tee-Tee’s bottom lip trembled.

“Bernard is head over heels in love with you. You know that.” Billie pulled him into her arms and hugged him.

“I know. It just hurts my feelings, that’s all.”

“It would hurt my feelings too,” Dylan agreed. “Just talk to him.”

BOOK: Material Girl 2: Labels and Love

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