5. Smoke
Smoke
“ I don’t know how to play poker.”
“What can you play?”
“Oh, I’m mad skilled at a game of bones. You got some dominoes around here?”
I chuckled. “Look at your little ass tryna act hard.”
“Not trying, boo. Just telling you the facts. I’ll kick your ass in a game of bones and be walking up out of here with not just my shoes but that Patek on your wrist, that ice on your neck and in your ears, and if you’re not careful, I’ll even have the deed to this place.”
I narrowed my eyes and released a low whistle.
“She talks mad shit. Let’s see what you workin’ with, baby girl,” I replied and led the way into the inner part of my office.
“This is nice,” she remarked.
I looked around my game room, which had black and red decor. At the far end of the room, there was a pool table with a large built-in waterfall on the wall behind it. In the middle of the room was a circular table with several chairs around it, where we played poker, pinochle, rummy, and dominoes.
At the very end of the room were two leather chairs and a love seat positioned strategically around an eighty-five-inch TV and a gaming console. Along the back wall was a bar and a refrigerator with snacks. A crystal chandelier hung over each setting, providing intimate lighting.
“You’re not only an admirer of muscle cars but of beautiful black women, I see,” she noted as she stared at the paintings on the wall. They were erotic seventies paintings of shapely black women with big afros. Although they were all nude, they were tastefully posed to cover their vaginas, and only their breasts were on display. Some of them, you could see their breasts and ass based on the way they were turned.
“Have a seat.” I held out the chair for her, and she sat down.
“Wait! Are those my shoes on that shelf?” Kaifiya asked and popped back out of her seat.
“Yeah. Have a seat. You’re about to win them back, right?” I asked.
She continued to stare at her shoes, which were on one of the floating shelves on the wall beside us. The shelves held my model muscle cars, but I had removed my 1967 Mercury Cougar GT to set her shoes in its place. The car was now sitting on the bar behind us.
“Would you like anything to eat or drink?”
“You think you’re about to cheat me out of my shoes.”
I laughed as I walked to the bar. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got some type of women’s shoe fetish, maybe you want them for your girlfriend, or maybe you like to dress in women’s shoes.”
I paused in preparing our drinks and mugged the shit out of her.
“Don’t test me, Fiya. I don’t fucking dress in drag. The nigga you see is the nigga you get. A’ight?”
“My bad.” Kaifiya apologized with a smirk and held her hands up.
“I don’t have a woman’s shoe fetish. I think y’all crazy as shit to wear them little tight-ass shoes with those tiny heels. Ain’t got no room for your toes, then y’all wanna complain your back and feet hurt. Why the fuck y’all do that shit anyway?”
“They’re beautiful. Makes us look good and makes our ass pop,” Kaifiya explained.
“Yeah, whatever,” I replied as I walked over to her. “As far as that shit about copping them shits for my woman, I can afford to buy my woman whatever shoes she wants, in as many colors as she wants, and as many pairs as she wants. I ain’t gotta steal shit.”
I had walked up behind her and left little space between us. If the back of her chair weren’t there, she would be resting against my dick.
“Good for you. I know that makes her feel good,” Kaifiya replied sarcastically.
“Yeah. It would if I had a woman,” I replied and set her drink down in front of her.
I walked around to the other side of the table and took my seat. We negotiated the rules of the game after I pulled out the box of dominoes.
She would only earn those shoes back if she won four out of the seven games we would play. If she lost, then she not only lost the shoes, but she also had to go out to dinner with me.
I prepared a cigar and offered her one. She accepted it and surprised the shit out of me when she proved that she knew how to smoke it.
“Yo, shorty. Why do I feel like you’re a hustler?” I asked.
She took a drag on her cigar and then pulled it from her lips. She blew out consecutive rings of smoke and stared at me through hooded, lowered eyes.
Kaifiya was a beautiful woman. Her café au lait colored skin glowed underneath the chandelier, and her long, ash blonde hair with caramel highlights curled down to the middle of her back. Kaifiya’s high cheekbones looked as if they were sculpted from the finest stone, and tilted, hickory-colored eyes beamed with delight from her oval-shaped face when she looked at me. Luscious, perfectly O-shaped lips drew up into a provocative smile as she stood.
“Running out?” I asked after I won the first hand.
“Why would I need to run?” she asked as her hips swayed seductively from side to side.
“I wasn’t sure why you were standing,” I replied and blew a puff of smoke her way.
“I’m never scared.”
“As was proven by the way you hijacked my stage and did your little performance stunt.
“Did you like it?” she asked as she removed her short-sleeved, butter-yellow blouse and danced her way to me.
She slid her blouse back and forth across my neck in a sexy manner. Her floral-scented perfume wreaked havoc on my senses, and I wanted to snatch her by the arm, toss her on the table, and fill her up to show her exactly what I liked.
I grabbed the shirt and her wrist at the same time. I placed my lips on the inside of her wrist and licked her there before I planted a kiss. I smirked when I heard the subtle moan fall from her lips.
“Can we please get back to the real game, sir, instead of the mind games you want to play?”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Fiya.”
“Don’t call me that. The name is Kaifiya or Kai.”
“I think I like Fiya better.”
“Fire?”
“Yes, but more like your name.”
“It’s fee-yah.”
“Yeah, but I prefer fiya because that’s what you remind me of.”
She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “You’re full of shit.”
“Either way. Sit down and take this ass whupping I’m about to lay on you again.”
I won the next round as well, and Kaifiya removed her butter yellow and fuchsia floral print skirt.
“Sitting across from you, with your tits about to bust up out that bra like that, got a nigga feeling horny as hell. Fiya, you ain’t got shit left but that thong and bra. In a minute, you gon’ be butt ass naked.”
“Still got my shoes,” she stated and kicked her feet from underneath the table.
She wore a pair of yellow strappy sandals.
“I’ll have the pleasure of removing those. Might suck each of those cute, little ass toes into my mouth just to see you cream and soak your panties.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a toe-sucking man.”
“I’m a horny, freaky muthafucka, Fiya.”
She giggled, and I thought she liked the little nickname I’d given her. Too bad she was engaged to someone else.
I lost the next round, and I had to remove my dress shirt. I lost the third round also, which saw me removing my shoes. I was down to my pants, socks, boxer briefs, dress shirt, and undershirt.
“All right. We’re neck and neck. Let’s say that since you have more clothes on than I do, how about you give up two items of clothing on the next round that you lose.”
I shrugged. “Ain’t no shame in my game.”
After winning the next game, she stated, “I get to pick what you remove.”
“Fine.”
“I want the pants gone and the shirt. Let me see those chicken legs and that beer gut.”
I laughed. “Oh, Fiya. You got jokes and shit. A nigga ain’t ever missed out on leg day, and I’m packing a twelve-pack under here. Ain’t no kegs on your boy,” I replied, patted my abs, and then removed my shirt and pants.
Her eyes jumped slightly when I made my dick bounce in my boxer briefs. I saw her watching my shit, and when her gaze rose to meet mine, I just smirked at her.
Before we could get started on the next round, I leaned across the table and asked, “How ’bout we up the ante?”
“I’m listening,” she said as she shuffled the dominoes.
“If I win the next game, not only will I select the article of clothing that you have to remove, you owe me a kiss.”
“What?”
“I mean, you said you’d whip my ass and all. So, you ain’t got shit to worry about, right?”
She twisted her lips and stared at mine. “Fine. Game on.”
We played intensely in the next round, and though it was close, I won.
“Take that bra off and let me see those beautiful nipples. If I recall correctly, they were the color of toffee.”
“Damn. You were staring at my shit that hard?”
“You wanted me to, and every other nigga in that room. Otherwise, why would you have taken your clothes off in a room full of strange men?” I asked.