Love Won't Let Me Wait Read online

  After my failed attempts at contacting Shannon I settled in and began a review of the file on Intellica. I’d presented Calango with Perkins’s counter proposal, and just as I dreaded Calango rejected it. To my dismay he requested that I continue attempting to close the deal and delay pursuing a buyout of Technosync.

  The deal represented a significant influx of cash in my company coffers but I’d just about reached my breaking point. It wouldn’t have bothered me in the least if Calango would have decided to get someone else to work this deal on his behalf. I’d about had it with the whole thing. I’d had enough of Intellica, Perkins, and Calango for that matter. I wanted out but quitting conflicted with my assiduous nature. I’ve never been a quitter and I wasn’t about to start now, especially not against the likes of Kyle Perkins. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself behind something like that.

  I couldn’t figure out his angle. It’s seemed as if he was intent on sabotaging the deal, but I couldn’t see how he would benefit from that. Perkins stood to make a huge sum of money off of the deal. We’re talking a couple of million dollars in his pocket. Why would he jeopardize that? It just didn’t add up.

  I continued sorting through the paperwork. I looked at our proposals and their subsequent counter proposals. Looking over the documents reaffirmed my frustration. I placed my elbow on the desk and buried my face in my hands. I massaged my temples with my fingers and exhaled some tension.

  I needed a release for all of the negative energy I had built up. I stood up and walked into my office bathroom, leaned over the sink, turned on the faucet and splashed my face with cold water.

  I looked into the mirror and stared stress dead in the eye. From the back of the door I grabbed my towel and dabbed the water from my face. Then I turned and walked back to my desk, picked up the phone and dialed up Raoul’s cellular. He picked up after the third ring.

  “Speak!”

  “Are you still trying to hoop this afternoon?” There was a brief silence; then Raoul whispered something to who I assumed was Vanessa from the garage a while ago, followed by some giggling.

  “Raoul!” I shouted into the phone. He was laughing as he answered me.

  “My bad, dog, I ain’t mean to put you off like that.”

  “Do you ever work?”

  “Shit, I’m putting in work right now. Pimping ain’t easy baby; it’s a full time gig.”

  “Motherfucker, are you balling or what?”

  “Nah, bruh,” Raoul answered with a giggle. “I have some business to take care of.” I sucked my teeth fully aware of the business he was referring to. I guess Vanessa is going to be hanging around for a while longer. I chuckled at Raoul’s want to be a player behavior. He is hilarious, but that’s my boy and I’m not going to hate on him.

  “Go ahead and do your thing, dog. We can ball tomorrow,” I offered.

  “Yeah, aight. Hit me up tomorrow; we hooping for sure.”

  “Aight bruh, I’ll holla.” Raoul hung up without responding. He probably was in the middle of having sex when I called. I have to remember to tell him: Homie, when you’re in the middle of fucking, DON’T-ANSWER-THE-PHONE!

  I sat down in my chair and leaned back, my hands folded behind my head. I thought about what I would do with the remainder of my afternoon. I could always head out to the YMCA and catch a game out there. Not my first choice for a game of basketball but quite convenient when in a crunch. It’s not the same as a pickup game complete with trash-talk and the ever present potential for violence that Raoul and I get when we ride down to Richmond Heights Housing Projects to meet Mark for a game of b-ball with the local thugs. Plus the competition is a lot better down in the hood. Well at least I wouldn’t have to worry about getting jacked at the Y.

  I picked up the Intellica file and placed it in my briefcase sitting open on my desk. I closed the briefcase and locked it, grabbed my coat and started towards the door briefcase in hand. I planned to head back to my apartment for lunch, relax for a couple of hours and then relive my Michael Jordan fantasies on the cats down at the Y. I managed a smile as I shut the office door behind me.

  I was going through my closet looking for some gear to hoop in when the phone rang. I walked out of my closet clad in pinstriped boxers and scooped up the cordless from my nightstand.

  “Hello.”

  “Booby, what are you doing?”

  “What’s up, Toya?”

  “What are you doing?” Toya asked again.

  “Putting on some clothes, why?”

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “Yes, how did you know I was at home anyway? Oh wait let me guess, Debbie.” Toya laughed. “That’s some secretary I have. What if I didn’t want to be bothered? I have to talk to her about revealing my whereabouts to strangers.” Toya responded with a fake laugh.

  “Where are you going anyway?”

  “Out.”

  “Well, I want to go play racquetball.”

  “And?” Toya sighed.

  “Stop playing. You want to go?”

  “I just told you, I’m getting ready to go somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “Where what?”

  “Where are you getting ready to go?” I paused.

  “Shoot hoops.” Toya hissed.

  “You’re going all the way out to Richmond Heights to play ball now!”

  “Nah, I’m going down to the Y.”

  “You and Raoul?”

  “Nope.”

  “Mark?”

  “Nope.”

  “Who are you going with?”

  “Just me and…nonya,” I sang. Toya sucked her teeth.

  “Stop playing, who are you going with?” I chuckled.

  “I’m going by myself.”

  “Well. Why don’t I meet you down there and we can play a couple games of racquetball?”

  “Hmm,” I pondered aloud.

  “Unless you’re afraid I’m gonna get that ass again,” she challenged.

  “Don’t act like that. You beat me one time and that was only because I let you win.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Really. Hate to burst your bubble but the truth is the truth.”

  “You are so trifling. Why can’t you just admit that I beat you, straight up?”

  “I would if you had, but you didn’t so I’m not.” Actually she had. She beat my ass good. No bullshit. I had won all of the previous games we’d played. I kept count and reminded Toya every chance I got. I sent her faxes, e-mails, postcards, and about a hundred messages on her voicemail. I rubbed it in like cheap, greasy, Dollar Store lotion.

  One day we got together for a game at the gym that Toya works out at. I started off the game goofing around, talking smack, and teasing Toya about her winless record. A couple of points later it was four to zero, Toya. At that point I started to get serious, playing to win. A few minutes later it was nine to four Toya. She was playing her ass off. I was running after balls and slamming into the walls. I gave it my all, but at the end of the game I had a grand total of four points. I hadn’t won another point the rest of the way.

  Needless to say the faxes, e-mails, and voicemails stopped. She whipped my ass. I expected her to gloat but she didn’t utter a word about her big victory. I’m guessing she figured it would bother me even more if she acted casual and didn’t rag me, and of course she was right. I have been waiting for three months to get my revenge.

  “Whatever,” she returned. “Just like a sorry ass man; can’t admit he got beaten by a woman.” We both laughed.

  “Oh, so now I’m sorry.”

  “You heard me. I didn’t stutter.”

  “I tell you what,” I offered. “Meet me at the Y at four, and put your racquet where your ass is.” Toya laughed.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You know exactly what it means. And don’t try to punk out either,” I added. Toya tssked.

  “See you at four, scrub.” I laughed and hung up. That ass is mine.

  Toya
and I had played two intense games of racquetball. We’d split one game apiece and were halfway through the third and final game. I was leading by three points, ten to seven. I was beginning to tire and I figured Toya was probably feeling at least as weary as I was. Sweat poured from both of our bodies. Toya’s sweat drenched body sticking to her red and white Nike shorts and red sports-bra was becoming a major distraction. My eyes were glued to the spike shaped wet spot on the back of her shorts that crept down into the crease of her butt every time she bent over to serve. Her thong was visible through the nylon fabric her shorts were made of. In between points I stared at the wet spots on her sports-bra that highlighted her perfectly round nipples. Before I knew it the score was twelve to ten Toya.

  Toya slapped a low-lined serve off the wall. I sprinted at it and returned a shot that ricochet off the sidewall. She charged at it fully extending to try and return it but it landed just out of the reach of her racquet. She bent over breathing heavily her hands resting on her knees. Sweat dripped from her chin onto the court. I fixated on her chest rising and falling with each breath, and felt myself coming to life in my shorts. Toya stood up and ran her fingers through her sweat-drenched curls adjusting the white scrunchy that held it back into a ponytail.

  I was mesmerized by her so that it seemed as if she was moving in slow motion. She ran her tongue across her lips and blew out air. I was now fully erect pocking at the front of my shorts like an MX missile preparing to lift out of its silo. Toya started walking back towards the center of the court. She glanced back at me as she readied to serve. I was still staring at her butt almost oblivious to the details of the game.

  Toya for the first time realized that I was out of the game and seriously aroused by her. Hell how could she not notice, my little soldier was practically waving at her and yelling out her name. She smiled at me, I looked away. I wasn’t embarrassed. I was just trying not to get sucked in any further than I already was. My hormones were having a Kentucky Derby flashback on me. I was turned on to the max. Toya looked over at me. A smile crept over her face as she glanced down at my crotch.

  “What are you smiling at?” I asked. She giggled.

  “I see you like my outfit.” Normally I would deny any attraction to her and fire back a snappy one-liner with any suggestion that I was. But with my little Indian making a teepee out of my shorts, denial would have been futile.

  “The outfit is tight, but it’s what’s in the outfit that I’m interested in.” I stood upright allowing Toya to get a full, uninhibited view of my package. Her tongue traced her lips as if wetting them with desire. My body throbbed in rhythm with the accelerated beat of my heart. The racquetball game was an afterthought for me as I gazed into her eyes.

  My stomach tightened as I zoned in on her. I longed to taste the salty flavor of the sweat that glistened on her tight athletic body. To taste her sweet honey and quench the thirst that stirred within me, manifesting itself in the form of my rock hard love wand. I perused her from head to toe with one slow satisfying sweep of my eyes. Then I brought my eyes up to meet hers. It appeared as if she was just finishing up a sweep of her own. Her eyes mingled in that area just below where my stomach meets my legs. I spoke.

  “How about we forget about this last game and call it even.”

  “What’s the matter, are you scared I’m gonna get that ass?” Toya returned. I snickered.

  “Not exactly, I was just thinking there are better things that I could be doing with you right now.”

  “Really, like what?” I moved towards her. She stood in position, a coy look on her face, her racquet softly tapping against her outer thigh.

  I slid behind her, slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me. My lips moved towards her neck. Her hands ran across mine. She gripped my wrist as I exhaled in anticipation. Then just as I was about to kiss her Toya snatched my hands from around her and pulled away from me, I glared at her confused and startled. She turned to face me.

  “Kalem, I thought I made it clear to you at the Olive Garden. We can’t mess around like this anymore.” I stood there with half my blood supply concentrated in my midsection, unable to think clearly, or formulate a coherent sentence. I paused and gathered the few functioning brain cells I could control.

  “You’re bringing that up now?

  “Look, I’m just trying to make things clear before we go too far. I told you, I’m not trying to be messed up with another female’s baby daddy.”

  “I saw the way that you were looking at me. You are just as turned on as I am.”

  “So what if I am? That does not mean we have to act on it. Booby, you know I’m right now, don’t make a big deal out of this; what’s wrong is wrong. You have a girl, and she is having your child, I have to respect that.” I snickered.

  “So you were not trying to turn me on?” I demanded. “You weren’t flirting with me?” Toya shifted her body, guilt evident in her movement.

  “I admit I was a little turned on when I noticed…you know.”

  “No I don’t know.” Toya looked away from me searching for the right words.

  “I liked the effect that I had on you.” I sucked my teeth.

  “So what, you were just teasing me? You wanted to see if you get me on hard?” I sounded like a horny teenager begging for ass on prom night. A woman who understands the disabling lure of female sexuality can reduce a grown ass man, fully schooled in the game to an emasculated schoolboy. Toya definitely understood her power.

  “Whoa, hold on one minute now. I didn’t intentionally do anything to get you excited. I’m just saying it is nice to know that you see me like that.” I shook my head.

  “I guess you’re going tell me you normally dress like that when you play sports, right?” Toya assumed an “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about look,” but the guilt was evident in her eyes.

  “Dress like what? I have on shorts and a sports bra. This is how I dress when I workout.” I snickered. “What?” Toya demanded. I stretched out on the floor, supporting myself with my elbow while Toya squatted on the floor in front of me Indian style. I looked over at her.

  “You always wear thongs when you work out?” She stared at me, her mouth open. I looked away.

  “Kalem, listen to me. I admit I was flirting with you. I know I said we wouldn’t do this anymore, but I never intended to go any further than that. So yes I wanted to make sure you were still attracted to me, but that is it…period. And for the record, yes I do wear thongs when I work out. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “This is just one big ol game to you.” I shook my head as if disgusted. Truth be told I wasn’t expecting anything to go down between us. And, I offered a bit of sexual goading during the game as well. Toya arouses my sexual curiosity, but it’s not like we were going to go at it right there in the middle of the Y, although that is something interesting to think about. This was just a case of flirting gone haywire. My getting riled up was just an unfortunate consequence. But I wasn’t through messing with Toya just yet. I planned to make her feel as guilty as O.J. Simpson sitting in his Vegas jail cell.

  “I don’t appreciate being toyed with like that, Toya.”

  “Kalem, I don’t see what you’re all upset about. You’re acting like this is something new for us. We used to mess around like this all the time. But now not only do you have a girlfriend, but you also have a kid on the way.” I looked away. “Or did you conveniently forget about that?” I shifted my body weight. This wasn’t going according to plan. Instead of Toya feeling guilty she had me feeling like a cheating dog.

  “Of course not,” I answered.

  “I admit it. I knew that once I started sweating in these nylon shorts my thong would be visible.” She laughed. “I’m sorry; I was just having a little fun with you.” I chuckled and managed a half-hearted smile.

  “Let me ask you a question.”

  “Go ahead,” she consented.

  “If I didn’t have a girlfriend and you know…a baby on the way. Woul
d you-” Toya cut me off.

  “I told you that I love you, Kalem, what do you think? That hasn’t changed. I just can’t go out like that.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “I don’t know what I was thinking was going to happen.” Toya laughed.

  “I do. The same thing we both have been thinking for years.” We both smiled. I stood up. Toya looked up at me.

  “So, you want to finish up this game?” I shook my head.

  “Nah, you can have it.”

  “I can have it?” Toya repeated. “I don’t need you to give me anything; I was kicking your ass.”

  “Whatever floats your boat.”

  “I would have won anyway,” Toya asserted.

  “Don’t get sporty,” I warned. We both started walking towards the locker rooms.

  “Who was winning?”

  “That’s only because I was distracted by that black string flossing the crack of your butt.”

  “Okay, Mr. Woody, let’s not talk. You think I wasn’t distracted by that little thing in your pants poking out at me.’ We both laughed.

  “Alright, you probably would have won,” I conceded. “I was worn out.” Toya smiled. We stopped outside the adjourning men’s and women’s locker rooms.

  “Thank you, Booby. I’m sure it pained you to admit that.”

  “I’m a big boy, I can take a loss.” We eyed each other. “And for the record, there ain’t a damn thing little about me; I’m a full grown man in all aspects.” Toya let go a flirtatious smile and turned to walk into the locker room.

  “I can see that.”

  “By the way,” I continued. “Me too.”

  “You too what?” She asked confused.

  “I feel the same way about you.”