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“He left his booty juice in my car!” I screamed at the phone as I frantically scrubbed the custom pewter leather seat.
“Booty juice? What the hell is booty juice? Is that a new drug or some shit?” “No! It’s little drippings from the crack of his dirty ass!”
“Shit, I should send his juice dripping ass the bill!”
“Fuck it. I’m buying a new car. This one is ruined.”
and yes, a bonnet warmer. You haven’t lived until you’ve slipped a warm bonnet over a fresh twist down.
Liars. If any of them had been truthful, I wouldn’t be nursing a drink alone in a bar while trying not to sneeze from all the competing scents of cologne.
The idea of making new friendships as an adult sounded as appealing as detangling my hair with a fine-toothed comb. With everyone bringing their own bag of drama and prejudices, tiptoeing around them became a nightmare.
I glared at the soiled passenger seat. There wasn’t a visible stain, but I knew what happened there. I’d never forget it.
Again, this should have been a sign for me to stop. When I was sober, I didn’t believe in coincidences!
“You called?” the deep voice spoke from the corner where the apparent intruder stood. “Oh, hell no!” I bolted for the door, titties flopping with each step.
“Oh, well, fuck it. If it’s a dream, I’m going with it.” My mind was already spinning with ideas of how to turn this dream from horror to something a lot more fun. “At least I can get kinky while I sleep!”
“Do not praise God when looking at my dick,” he ordered. “Oh, my… devil?” I frowned and forced my eyes away from his member to look up at him. “Whoever is responsible, they did a good job.”
Never would I talk about the crazy white girl in the horror movies who just had to stop and stare.
“All that, and I still didn’t get my damn tacos!”
“You’re no longer questioning my existence?” He frowned at me, and I thought he might actually pout. “I figure if I’m losing my mind, I might as well steer into the skid.” I got up and headed to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of soda. “Besides, I can talk to you about you being a demon. If I mention it to anyone else, they’ll look at me like I need to be locked away for my safety.”
“I’m not delusional. I’m darkness, and if you’re not careful, I’ll devour you.”
Wasn’t that like a horror movie rule? Grannies and babies were off limits?
I looked over my shoulder and damn near kicked myself when I saw the glowing exit sign. In case of emergency, use the exit, not pound on the door like a maniac. I abandoned the useless door, hoping for better luck with the emergency exit.
“Metice! Get your dark ass over here and help me!”
“Don’t point at me like I’m some child for you to scold.” I slapped his hand away then pointed right back at him.
“You need to stop pinching yourself, unless that’s some kind of kink you haven’t shared with me yet.”
“Am I done? Are you serious?” I screamed. “I’m in hell. I’m in hell. I’m actually in motherfucking hell!”
I gave up and decided the best way to pass the time was to invade his privacy.
How was this my life? “Whoever is writing my story has a funny sense of humor.” I dropped the book I’d been holding onto the bed.
“The appropriate response is thank you.” He waited.
It would be just like me to trade the booty juice jerk for a dirty demon who didn’t understand what soap was.
“No wonder you were trying to use magic to make a man for yourself.” He pointed at me. “No real one in his right mind would deal with you.” “If I pretend to be upset by that, will you find me some food?” I stuck my tongue out at him. “I’ll get you food when you ask for it. Nicely.” He sat forward. “I’ll wait.”
Had I read that line in a book, I would have been swooning, but in reality, it made me want to pop him in his thick forehead.
Okay, so maybe that dominance thing wasn’t just hot in the books. Maybe, in real life, it had a little weight to it.
If Metice wants to play with me, he better learn quickly that I’m skilled in mind games. You don’t grow up with fifteen boy cousins and not come out of it with a few lessons in how to twist a man’s mind.
My body tensed with a sudden wave of annoyance. The man had already ripped me from my world; now, he wanted to keep his secrets. How was that fair?
Maybe the spell did it right. Maybe he’s the man of my dreams.
“Do you think being stubborn is a sport you can win?” he asked,
“Yeah, literal shit stains on my front seat. So you'll have to excuse me if I thought maybe a mystical magical man created by a spell would be better than dealing with that ever again.”
“So proud of you, brave girl.” He patted my head like I was an obedient pet, and I wanted to punch him in the side, but I knew it would hurt my hand if I did.
“I told you I can grow.” He turned and winked at me. “That doesn’t only apply to your favorite part of me.”
“Rayna, you’re in a world you don’t understand with beings who have abilities unlike anything you can fathom. You must be more careful.”
“Just because I choose to stay out of the shitshow doesn’t mean I’m afraid of it.” He cleared up her misconception.
This may feel off putting and I’ll understand if you say no. Rayna, after today, I want nothing but the comfort of your presence. Just lay with me, please.” There was something vulnerable in his tone, something I never expected from him.
Metice’s body healed, but I could feel it: something inside him was hurting. If being with me could help, I would give him that.
I swear, the ancestors claimed my hand, because I couldn’t remember deciding to slap him, but that’s exactly what I did. Then, I cursed my foolishness, because my hand was already burning.
“Am I allowed to speak, or are you going to slap me again?” He rubbed his jaw. “Damn, that actually stings.”
He stood in the hall, jacket open, staring at me like he hadn’t just confessed to being a stalker.
“How is it that someone who is so impressive, someone with so much life under your belt, deals with such ridiculous men?” His brow furrowed as he tried to understand the logic behind my situation. “Why do you put yourself through that?”
“Throw on top of that toxic recipe that I’m a black woman in the world that tells me every damn day that no matter how impressive I am, I’m unwanted. If I step outside of my race, I’m a traitor to my people. But then I’m finding more and more often that the black men, the men who should want me, who should uplift me, don’t. Not the way I am. They’re stuck on having women be submissive, but they give us nothing to submit to.
“I don’t want you dating these men. You shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk for such morons.”
“I know you like to talk, but can you just not right now?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
So he had done more than just watch me on my dates. This man is obsessed!
“Rayna, I want to know the person I’m tied to. I still haven’t found a solution to this. It doesn’t seem like you can feel me, but I feel you, every emotion you’ve gone through. Do you know how hard it was to stay away in the beginning? I felt your sadness, your confusion, even your anger. I wanted to fix that, but I couldn’t. So excuse me, but I want to know you. I don’t want you to feel those things again.”
“This is me making sure you have proper food in your home,” he fussed. “Do you know how difficult it was to make those tacos? You shop like a child.”
