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“Where have you been, Mike?” she asked with her hands on her hips and her pouty lips pushed out.
I stepped a little closer to her. “I’m sorry, Michaella. I’ve had a lot of things going on that I had to deal with.”
“I understand that, Mike. You know that I do, but I have to say that my feelings are hurt that I haven’t seen you. You were gone for so long and now you’re back, and I’ve only seen you once.”
“I’m sorry, Michaella.”
“I’m not looking for an apology, Mike. I really think that if I hadn’t come to pick you up when you got back, that I wouldn’t have seen you at all.”
“That’s not true,” I said, even though it probably was.
If Bobby and Wanda had picked me up, we would have ended up at The Late Night. If Michaella just happened to be there, yeah, I would have seen her. But otherwise, me and Bobby would have ended up at Cynt’s and I would have fucked Lo-Lo and Anya that night.
I stepped a little closer and got in her ear. “You know we have a lot going on. Bobby told you that.”
“I know, but—”
“But here’s the thing, you’re here now.”
“Yes. But, do you want me to be?”
Why do women waste time on hypotheticals?
“Yes, I do want you.” I bit her earlobe. “And that’s all that matters is that you are here with me now.”
“It is, but I had to chase you down to be with you.”
I had to laugh because if just showing up here and waiting was her idea of chasing me down, it was pretty lame. “I been chased down by some flat-out stalkers and so even though I didn’t like it, I can tell you that this was not being chased down,” I said, and we laughed a little together.
I kissed her on her cheek and when I pulled away, she was smiling. “There’s a kiss to make it better.”
“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you,” she said.
“You might be, but I have a way that I guarantee will make peace between us.”
“What is that?” She may have asked, but she knew.
“I’ll tell you when I’m deep inside you.”
Michaella sexy smile returned. “You know I like that.”
It was so easy to end arguments with some women.
Once we left The Late Night, Michaella drove us to her apartment kind of quickly and I knew why. My hand caressed her naked thigh as she drove and when she stopped for a red light, I glided my finger along her lips through her moist thong. I wanted to make it clear that I was planning on fucking the shit outta her fine ass as soon as her apartment door was closed.
As we drove, there was a song playing. I liked it, liked the melodic sound of the female vocalist. And then the sax opened up with a smooth solo. “What’s the name of this song?”
“The Girl From Ipanema,” Michaella said and glanced at me while she drove. “You’ve never heard this song before?”
“No, but I like it. Who’s that on sax?”
“That is Stan Getz on sax.”
“Who?”
“Stan Getz.” She laughed a little. “You’re not into jazz, are you?”
“Not really,” I said as the female vocalists resumed her smooth and sexy vocal. “And who is that singing?”
