Chapter 10
“Hey, Em,” shouted somebody as they entered the main cabin of the plane.
“Yo, Proof! Give me a sec,” he
hollered back from the private quarters, adjusting his pants. “That’s my boy,” he supplied as he saw
Vanessa’s bewildered eyes.
“Let me go first, you uh…”
“Yeah, I will,” she replied dryly, their passion had faded into a memory and
both of their minds were clearer.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, man,” Marshall said as he
came out of the bedroom.
“Yo, how was the flight?”
“Best I’ve had.”
Proof looked at him curiously,Marshall
seemed a bit off kilter. “What’s up with
you?”
“Huh? What?”
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“Oh, nah…”
“Em, I’m your boy, tell me!” Proof urged.
Marshall broke a little. “Well—”
“Shit, would you look at that fine ass?” Proof whistled low as
Vanessa emerged, her hips swaying confidently as she approached the pair. “Who is she?
Marshall is that your new
girl?”
“What? Nah, man. That’s my secretary.”
“Ooh, I get it! Playin’
secretary and boss man, kinky,” he winked.
“No, serious, she’s the temporary secretary they sent over.”
“Pretty fuckin’ nice lookin’. Introduce me,” Proof dug his elbow into Marshall’s
gut.
“Hey, Vanessa, this is my boy, Proof.”
“Hello,” she murmured; the word rolled provocatively off her tongue, landing
straight in both men’s laps—rousing more than just intrigue.
“Come on, Vanessa, let me personally escort you,” Proof replied.
“Thank you,” she said demurely.
Marshall shot daggers at both of
them; he wondered what her game was—just why was she throwing out all the stops
to leave an impression on Proof, and infuriating the hell out of him.
The group was surrounded by armed security and escorted through the terminal
with minimal fanfare—Proof and Vanessa were caught in several photographs, but
they both had their sunglasses on and weren’t likely to be in any of tomorrow’s
headliners. Marshall
was less fortunate in hiding as his blonde hair and fair complexion was no
consolation for the dark sunglasses.
Nevertheless, they arrived at the limousine whole and intact.
“After you, beautiful,” Proof said as Vanessa climbed into the stretched
car.
She slid onto the far bench and gestured for Proof to sit next to her.
Marshallgrit
his teeth and sat opposite of the two.
Immediately, he remembered that Vanessa was sans panties, and decided to
enjoy watching her struggle to conceal herself from him, fully knowing that her
skirt wasn’t long enough to provide her ample room to move around.
As if sensing his grin of satisfaction, she stared at him briefly before
letting out a wicked smile of her own as she crossed her legs in a slow,
deliberate fashion—never taking her eyes from his.
Serves him right, she thought and turned her attention to Proof.
“So, you wanna hit our show tomorrow?” he asked
her.
“I’ll have to see if I can get off work early,” she said looking pointedly
at Marshall.
“Oh, Marshall won’t have no
problem with that, beautiful. He’s goin’ be there, too.”
“Great,” she smiled. “I look forward
to it.”
The rest of the ride was idle chatter as Proof and Marshall
discussed Marshall’s next album and
tossed ideas around. Vanessa listened
attentively, completely enthralled as she saw Marshall’s
face light up with enthusiasm as they both talked animatedly about album
production and promotion.
It was different, seeing his passion for his music laid out on the table, as
the two rappers threw out beats and suggestions for each other.
She sighed; it wasn’t a good idea to let herself be pulled in so easily into
a world she had to live without—wasn’t sure she could find it in herself to
forgive and allow that whole world back into her life. Shaking her head in disgust as the memories
of long time past assaulted her heedlessly, she focused even more intently on
the words being exchanged.
“You gotta use your success,” Proof advised.
“Well, yeah…”
“That one song…with what’s her fuckin’ face—”
“Dina,” Marshall supplied.
“Yeah, her; that shit is going off the charts. She sure can moan,” Proof grinned.
Marshall laughed, “What do you
think we got her for?”
Vanessa was not liking this new direction
the conversation was taking.
“Ahem,” she coughed.
They chuckled. “Yo, sorry,
beautiful,” Proof apologized.
“Uh huh,” she shook her head.
“Right,” she drawled.
An unfamiliar voice broke into the conversation, “Sir, we’re at your hotel.”
“Good, I’m fuckin’ tired,” Marshall
replied as the car jerked to a stop and winked at Vanessa suggestively.
Tired my ass, she thought as she stepped out of the car.
After watching Marshall nearly
throttle the hotel concierge, the two of them made it up their room. Proof had taken his leave as soon as he saw Marshall
starting to get into it with the hotel manager.
“You were a little mean, don’t you think?” she commented as he opened the
door to the suite.
“It’s my fuckin’ fault they can’t book rooms?”
“You still should have been nicer!”
“Look, if I had been, do you think we’d have gotten this room?” he
growled and motioned to grandiose room that was theirs for a week’s time.
“You do realize that this is the honeymoon suite?”
“We’re gonna be actin’ like newlyweds, don’t you
think?” he said slyly.
“Ha!” she huffed.
“Is that a no?” Marshall asked,
feigning hurt in his voice.
“No.”
“No as in no? Or no as in yes?” he
teased.
“Get my bags, you bastard. I want
some damn panties.”
“I don’t think you do,” he said taking her suitcase and setting them by the
closet.
“Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief.
“We have,” he glanced at his watch as he walked towards her, “Four hours.”
“For?” she played dumb.
He had her backed against the door, and she dimly realized she was a little
afraid of what he was going to do.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Damn it, Marshall… I’m not in the mood—”
Her protest was lost on her lips as his claimed hers furiously—angrily. Angry at her for making him jealous, for
playing games, and more at himself for not being able to control his hormonal
urges whenever she was around.
“You’re a fuckin’ tease,” he yelled as he grasped
her wrists and raised her arms against the door; essentially, locking her
beneath the weight of his body and in his grip.
“I’m not…”
“Just what game were you playing with Proof?” he asked heatedly.
“I was being friendly.”
“Too fuckin’ friendly, if you ask me!”
She glowered at him, despite being in such a futile position. “I didn’t ask you!”
“You’re mine, god damn it,” Marshall
growled and slid his hand beneath her skirt to cup her buttocks, lifting her up
against the hard wooden door.
The way he held her, in order to keep from falling, she had to wrap her legs
around his body. “Damn you,” she
swore
“Damn us both,” he amended.