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Reggie's Girl Ch. 01

By: sugareola



Jasmine Fleet looked over the ancient bureau in the middle of her new living room, at her overworked friend. Ted had given up dragging the couch into her apartment and now sat on it, his head in his hands.

She looked around, spotted the lukewarm bottle of pop they'd been sipping from all afternoon and grabbed it. Then she went over to him.

"Hey."

Ted looked up and she smiled. Sloshing about the neon-colored liquid in the bottle, she said, "Looks like you could use another shot."

He smiled, but there was a weariness around the corners of his mouth that could not come from lugging furniture around. Jasmine sat on the arm of her couch, making it creak in protest under her welterweight.

"You alright?" She bent and peered into his face, mild worry in her aquamarine eyes.

"What? No, of course I am. Just thinkin'."

"About what?" Ted patted the spot on the couch next to him. Jasmine slid over and he took her hand in his fudge-brown one.

"About how far you've come, I guess," he said, his voice quiet. "Remember where you were this time last year?"

She laughed at the not-too-distant memory. "Shuffling from one unpaid internship to another. Tripping over the poverty line, sure, but I was dangerous! I was living on the edge!"

"You live in one bad neighborhood and now you're dangerous." Ted arched an eloquent eyebrow.

Jasmine laughed again, laying her strawberry-blonde head on his shoulder. "It wasn't bad all the time," she commented. "You know, now that I've left it behind, I think I'll even miss it a little."

"Don't." Ted, all of a sudden, sounded more fierce than she'd ever heard him. His grasp on her hand tightened.

"I don't ever wanna hear you say that, you hear me? People in there would give their soul to get out. A lot of those suckas don't get that chance, there's always something pulling 'em back. You be grateful you got out."

Jasmine's smooth brow creased as she heard him out. Acting out of instinct, she lifted her free hand behind him and rubbed between his shoulder blades.

"I am, Ted," she replied softly. Then after a moment, she added, "I'm glad you're out of there too."

He gave a dry huff of laughter, a jaded, infinitely sad sound. Before she could ask what was so funny, Ted gave her knee a quick pat.

"Come on, let's get this couch in," he said.

Once again, they were heaving and grunting in joint effort. Not because the couch was heavy, but because the door was so narrow, they had to try and shove past its tight corners.

With a mighty push, they managed to scrape it past the door. Jasmine beamed, arms outstretched in triumph.

"Woo hoo! We did it!"

Ted stumbled back a step when she hurled herself at him in a sudden hug. "Yeah," he laughed, recovering his footing. "We sure did, Jazz. We sure did."

He pulled back and looked at her face for a moment.

"You know I'm proud of you, right?"

Jasmine shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. She had only moved from one small apartment to an even smaller one, albeit in a somewhat safer part of New York City. It's not like her photography gig paid a ton.

"Yeah," she muttered.

Ted pushed a straight lock of hair behind her ear.

"Gimme a year and I'll get you that Ducati you keep yammering about," she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. This intensity was weird. It was so unlike Ted, who could always make her laugh, even at herself.

Now, he just smiled and nodded. "I know you will."

"Ted." Jasmine reached out and grabbed his arms. She was beginning to feel frightened and didn't even know why. "What's wrong?"

"Ain't nothing wrong, Jazz. I know you're gonna be just fine over here."

"And you're gonna be just fine too." Her tone was staunch. "Right?"

Then he did something he'd never done before. He leaned close and kissed her cheek with so much tenderness she felt like a china doll. When he pulled back, Jasmine just stared at him, speechless, lifting a hand to her tingling cheek.

"I gotta head out now," Ted murmured. "You take care, alright?"

Before she could answer, he'd turned and walked out, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Alone, surrounded by the disorganized furniture, Jasmine wondered why she suddenly had the feeling she'd never see Ted again.

* * *

"No sign of him, yet?"

The hulking Goliath at the wheel looked out of his window, where a dilapidated highrise cast a menacing gloom over the street in the twilight.

"Looks quiet," replied Tiny, easing back the heft that had earned him the ironic sobriquet.

His sole passenger shifted a little in the back seat, then stilled. They'd been staking out the highrise for close to an hour, but even if it had been much longer than that, any signs of impatience would have been as scant. He sat, as still as a spider in its web, and waited.

Then the web twitched.

"You see him?" asked Tiny, knowing he needn't have.

"Yeah. Get X and Bobby over there."

Tiny grabbed his smartphone off the dashboard and did as instructed. Then they watched the lanky youth they'd been awaiting jog up the steps into the wretched building.

Two heavily muscled men soon rounded the block and made for the building's entrance as well. Then they stopped dead in their tracks, wary scowls distorting their features as a car sped their way from the opposite direction. It screeched to an abrupt halt in front of the highrise.

The man in the back seat also frowned, but his voice remained cool, curious. "Who is that?"

"Could be trouble," his scar-faced chauffeur speculated, peering at the intruding car. Such a bold entrance into a pregnant situation like this would be foolish to dismiss out of hand.

For a suspenseful moment, nobody emerged from the car. Then the door opened and out came a young woman, blond hair blowing about in the evening breeze.

Tiny grunted in derision. "That's his bodyguard?"

His passenger smiled. The two men on the other side of the street resumed their approach with exaggerated braggadocio.

Jasmine hugged her worn cardigan about her and kept her eyes on the two guys coming her way. They leered at her in a way that was clearly supposed to make her nervous, but she would not show fear. Undefiant calm had always served her well while she went on her way in this neighborhood; there was no reason it should not now.

"Better click your magic shoes, Dorothy," one man called. "You a long way from Kansas, bitch."

They'd probably pass her by, or enter the building. She would wait until they did one or the other, then she would go inside. In an apartment on the second floor was Ted, and she intended to take him out and cheer him up.

Jasmine looked around with a pensive sigh, one hand drawing back the errant strands of her hair. It seemed quiet, empty... eerily so. Where had everyone gone?

She forced her feet to follow the two young men into the building. They climbed up the stairs and she did the same, maintaining her distance.

When she got to the first floor, she looked up at Ted's door. Her eyebrows jumped high. It was wide open.

"Something's up, I can feel it," one of the guys muttered to the other. They slowed their ascent and Jasmine did likewise. One of the men looked back at her and scowled.

"Bitch, you better get on outta here!"

His threat - or perhaps it was a warning - confirmed that all was indeed not well. And Ted was smack dab in the middle of it.

"It's okay," Jasmine replied. "I'm just picking up a friend and then we're ghost."

"Yeah, no pun intended. Jesus."

When the men arrived on the second floor, they stopped. Every nerve taut, they scanned Ted's living room from corner to corner, as much as they could from outside.

Jasmine took another step then jumped at the harsh voice that spoke again. "There something wrong with this bitch? Dorothy, get on outta here! What the fuck you comin' up here for, huh?"

"That's my friend's apartment," she explained, her voice quavering. "I have to see if he's alright."

"Go. Home. Now!"

For a second, Jasmine was dumbfounded. Then her mind cleared and her resolve grew firm. Ted was her friend.

She looked up at them and shook her head. "I can't-"

Right then, there was an earthy thud from somewhere outside, then the sound of sprinting feet. At once, the youths bolted into Ted's apartment.

"Shit, shit, shit! He's gettin' away!"

Jasmine found herself stumbling up the stairs. She looked into Ted's apartment and found one man leaning out of the open window, while the other pulled a cellphone out of his pocket.

Distress overtaking her, she asked, "Where is he?"

The man looking out of the window pulled back in. His eyes narrowed, then he snarled, "You know, maybe I should ask you that."

Her jaw sagged. "You think I did something?!"

"I think you know something," he corrected, approaching her. Jasmine didn't try to explain herself. She bolted.

The soles of her worn sneakers were almost completely smooth, requiring her to hold on to the railing to avoid slipping. Her pursuer's footsteps thundered in her ears. The sound was deafening, terrifying. An additional burst of adrenaline fueled her flight.

Once on the bottom floor, she pulled out her car keys from her jeans pocket. She could see her car beyond the wide open doors. Just unlock the doors, get in and lock again. Drive off.

It could be done.

Outside, the cold air rejuvenated her lungs. She was out her pursuer's reach now. Her hand reached for the front door.

To her astonishment, two thick arms encircled her midriff and lifted her feet clear off the ground. She saw who held her outlined in her car window, and it was a different person altogether. A veritable giant.

"I wouldn't advise you to resist," a deep voice behind them said, composed but laced with exasperation.

But Jasmine had no intention of resisting whatsoever. She lifted both her hands and spoke in a loud voice. "You can have my car keys."

A light scoff. "Thanks, but I ain't get my tetanus shots."

She swallowed and tried again. "In the back seat, there is a very expensive camera. State of the art, in pristine condition. It's yours."

A beat passed. A lonely, as yet unvandalized street light flickered on. Her captor's visage was reflected in more detail, and the warped scars she could now make out froze her blood.

"What're you doing with a camera like that?" the quiet voice went on.

"I'm a photographer."

A husky laugh. "And a thief?"

"No, I-"

"Tiny, turn her around."

The absurdly named "Tiny" did as he was told. Once again, Jasmine was facing the two young men from earlier.

Then a slight movement drew her peripheral vision and she turned her head. There, she beheld the most visually impressive specimen of manhood she had come across in all her twenty-three years.

In height, there was less than a foot's difference between him and Tiny's fantastical seven feet. His curly hair was kept in a close-cut Caesar. A neat track of beard framed his mouth. His skin would be a deep bronze in daylight, she surmised.

He had on a dark wool trench coat and a double-breasted suit underneath. His black shoes helped illuminate the street, such was the ferocity of their polished gleam. He hardly needed to speak to make an impression; he radiated laid-back power.

The man's face eased into a lopsided smile. "Recognize me from someplace?"

Jasmine ducked her head, her cheeks growing warm. "No, sir. I didn't mean to stare," she mumbled.

"It was a good stare," he assured her, nodding to Tiny. Instantly, she was released but still not quite able to take a deep breath.

"Bad idea to be out here by yourself," he remarked.

"I wasn't supposed to be by myself. I came to pick up a friend-"

"Who?"

"He lives on the second floor." Jasmine was unwilling to give Ted's name to these strangers. The bearded man gave the two men a questioning glance, and the one who'd chased her spoke up.

"He took off just when we got there," he said, still short of breath. Then he glowered at Jasmine. "Like somebody told him to get lost."

"I see." The slight exasperation returned.

Her dapper interrogator swung his gaze back to her, his eyes narrowing. "Why'd you say you have that camera again?"

"It's mine, I'm a photographer."

"Yeah? You work for a newspaper or something?"

"Yes."

Jasmine had not thought to say something to frighten them, but she could see now that her reply unnerved them all.

"Media sniffing out a story here?" the well-dressed man asked after a moment.

She wasn't sure it was the best idea to keep them nervous of her; on the other hand, she needed them to think twice before trying something.

"Umm..."

Jasmine let the silence drag out. The two youths began to shift on their feet in unease. The third man remained stock still, his dispassionate gaze fixed on her. Soon, she was ducking her head again, kicking an imaginary pebble.

"I apologize," he said, a smile in his voice. "Here I am giving you the third degree, and we haven't even been introduced yet."

The gentleman - Jasmine couldn't help thinking of him as such, in the face of such polished aplomb - stepped forward and extended a gloved hand. "Reggie McComb."

A name she had heard whispered before, whenever a black Mercedes had cruised through her old neighborhood. Now, her eyes growing enormous, she stared at the near-mythical figure before her.

The name registered and who he was, what he was came to her in a heart-stopping rush. For all his Burberry finery and courtly manner, this was no gentleman.

Reggie McComb was a monster. His appetite for cruelty was legend. He liked to get his hands dirty, or rather bloody.

Word was that once when he'd administered a beating to a tardy debtor, a member of his crew had gotten so nauseous, he'd learned to make himself scarce in future episodes. His capacity for unpredictable violence meant that one was safer alone with Tiny than with his barbaric employer.

Jasmine quelled a shiver as he shook her hand; she almost thought she could detect an otherworldly coolness emanating from beneath his glove.

"Jasmine Fleet," she muttered, then looked down. All the scowling, coarse-mouthed "thugs" in the world couldn't cow her as this congenial Mephistopheles did. Him, she could not bring herself to face.

"You're shivering, Jasmine," McComb observed. "Let's continue this conversation in my car, shall we?"

Her head snapped up, eyes a little wild. "I really have to get going."

He just smiled. "I won't keep you long."

Jasmine had no idea what they could possibly have to discuss, but she had no option but to follow him to his car. It struck her how well-suited the Mercedes across the street was to its owner: suave, unrushed... inhuman.

The warm interior of the vehicle came as a pleasant shock to her chilled bones. She huddled to the far corner of the back seat as McComb got in. Once he'd shut the door, he regarded her shrinking stance with chiding amusement but didn't comment on it.

"Do you have any idea why Ted took off like he did?"

"No, sir." It took all her determination to look into those unfeeling eyes. "I think something scared him."

"Huh- And do you know where he might've run off to?"

"No."

He nodded as he looked out of his window. "I realize you're frightened, Jasmine," he said. "To be clear, neither you nor Ted have anything to fear from me, but it's urgent I speak with your friend immediately. I don't have too much time now, so if you can try real hard to think where he might've gone..."

McComb turned and looked at her. Jasmine shook her head again. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't. I don't know where he is."

"Ah." He fingered his sideburn as he went silent, deep in thought. In her distracted hypervigilance, the tiniest details of his beard engrossed her attention. Most men's mouths disappeared into their beards, but she didn't suppose that would ever happen to this one. Not with those lips, full and shapely as they were. Almost tempting, really...

"Well, it looks like we won't be of much use to each other then, doesn't it?" McComb turned to her again. "You're free to go. Have a nice night."

Jasmine didn't even say goodnight, just scrambled out of the car in breathless relief. She slammed the door shut and began to jog to her car. Thank God, oh thank God she'd made it out in one piece. Her nightmare was over.

But what about Ted? Where could he be? Why...?

Jasmine stopped before her car, her heart skipping a beat when she noticed how low it squatted. The tires had been slashed. She walked round to the other side. All four of them.

She looked around but there was nobody close by. It seemed the culprit had melted into the darkness.

Some distance away, she heard a car door shut and an engine rumbled to life. It was the Mercedes she'd just escaped from. It did a smooth U-turn then rolled up to where she stood.

The tinted rear window rolled down, replacing Jasmine's distraught reflection with McComb's frowning appraisal of her tires. He shook his head in self-reproach.

"This is my fault," he sighed. "This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't kept you."

"It's fine. I'll manage."

But his reply was sickeningly resolute. "I can't leave you alone like this. Get your camera and get in."

"Please, sir, it really isn't-"

Tiny got out, opened the opposite rear door and waited in stern silence.

"Get in, Jasmine." At the sound of his hushed voice her frantic gaze flew back to McComb. He gave her a pleasant smile. "Please."

She could run, disappear into an alley maybe. And then what? Why risk a thrashing?

Tiny shut her in the car after she got in, then returned to the driver's seat. The car began to move again at its usual stately pace.

"Being the cause of your inconvenience, I should be the one to make amends, I think," McComb said. "So let's get you home, okay?"

"Okay."

"But first, let's grab something to eat."

Jasmine gripped her precious camera, feeling her life, like the Mercedes was now doing, was taking a turn. Things would never be the same again.

* * *

A fraught silence dominated the interior of McComb's car for twenty minutes before he dispelled it.

"You know, usually," he mused, "I have to put my hands on a woman to get her to breathe as fast as you're doing."

Jasmine shot him a nervous glance but he hadn't turned. He sat looking out of his window, a pose that highlighted his patrician profile.

"Guess I just get better with age."

His sardonic comment made her blush. She pushed a stray lock behind her ear as she searched for a worthy reply.

"I..."

"What're you in the mood to eat?" McComb cut in.

"A... Coke and fries would be fine."

He frowned. "Junk food? That's appalling, Jasmine, what would your mother say?"

Jasmine blinked. "She understands."

"She doesn't approve, surely."

"It's what's affordable."

"That's a pathetic excuse."

"Well, then I'll give you the harsh truth: superfoods are meant for the celebrities who endorse them. Now, I'm not famous, spiritual or philanthropic, so I strike out. Deep down, nobody wants to see edible algae wasted on the likes of me."

"I'm sure you deserve at least a soy burger."

"Nobody deserves that, it's disgusting," Jasmine replied a little too readily, then immediately wondered what she was doing. It was a tedious weakness of hers, her mouth running away with her whenever she felt cornered into conversation.

McComb turned and smiled at her. "Yes, it is."

She looked down at her camera.

"You like Italian, though, right?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"Good. And now, I'll have to ask you your measurements..."

She swung her face to stare at him. "My what?"

"You can't walk into a restaurant dressed as you are," McComb explained. "Italian or otherwise."

Jasmine clutched her fraying cardigan tighter around her. It was too much. Was she supposed to go to dinner with this fiend now? Like some kind of date?


Reggie's Girl Ch. 01



"That sweater means a lot to you," he commented.

"My... grandmother made it for me." All of a sudden, she was on the verge of tears. Her Nana seemed so far away from her now.

"You hold on to it when you're feeling defensive."

It was impossible to answer him. She just sat looking down, trying to blink her wide eyes dry again.

"I'll make you a deal, Jasmine." His lying voice was so gentle, so reasonable that it was all Jasmine could do not to burst into tears.

She swallowed hard. "Sure."

"You give me your measurements, and I'll get out at the next red light."

Done! "28-22-34."

"Cup?"

She looked at him in bewilderment.

His hollow eyes slid over her chest.

"28... C, right?"

Jasmine shuddered in revulsion. "Right," she concurred in strangled tones.

McComb opened the door and stepped out of the car into the light traffic jam which held them stationary. When he shut the door, Jasmine heaved several huge sighs of relief.

He was gone, even if for a moment, he was gone.

"Yeah."

She looked in front to the driver's seat. Was Tiny talking to her?

"Will do."

She saw his huge hand deposit a phone on the dashboard.

"Looks like you're going to the salon. Reggie'll meet us there."

Now he was talking to her.

"O-okay."

But it didn't look like the "salon" was open for business anyhow. A perplexed Jasmine couldn't even see a sign that identified the place as such. It was just a black, unmarked door, locked for the night.

Tiny raised his fist and shook the thick metal with his pounding. At once, he was answered by a series of rattling chains and sliding bolts. Then the door swung open and they were greeted by a striking Amazon, batting her incredible eyelashes at Tiny.

Jasmine cast a rueful eye on her redundant stilettos. It seemed that everyone tonight was going to make her feel short - and well, white.

"Hi, I'm Kai," she introduced herself in the deepest, sexiest growl God ever gave a woman. She smiled at Jasmine and ushered her in. "Quick, I've got to get started on you right away."

Kai indicated a huge chair before a mirror. Jasmine went to sit on it, surprised that this was indeed a salon, and a rather posh one too.

"Tiny, your goodies are in the next room," Kai informed him, her voice turning coy.

In the mirror, Jasmine saw a brightly-taloned hand emerge from beyond a bead curtain, catch Tiny by the collar and haul all his breadth inside the adjoining room.

Jasmine looked away in embarrassed haste, but Kai had already closed the door. "And burn some incense when you're done," she yelled over her shoulder to the ensconsed occupants.

Her sky-high spike heels clinked on the ceramic tiles as she approached Jasmine, studying her elfin features in the mirror.

"Aren't you a doll," she purred in her smoky alto. "Look at that young skin, no wonder you don't bother with make-up."

It didn't take Kai's quick fingers long to wash Jasmine's hair. Then she trimmed it into layers which she flat-ironed. Soon, she had finished a thorough facial. Jasmine gawked at her reflection when it was done.

"Like it?" Kai asked, but it was more smirk than question.

Jasmine lifted a hesitant hand to her hair, not quite daring to touch the silky brackets that fell around the tip of her chin, accentuating the heart shape of her face. The rest of her hair flowed, in progressively longer layers, to her collarbone, past her shoulders and down her back. A simple enough look, but light years in maturity from her girlish ponytail.

She blinked sooty, mascaraed eyelashes, the only cosmetic Kai had made heavy use of. She'd applied a whisper of shimmery eyeshadow, the blush looked natural in its subtlety and her lips bore just enough strawberry gloss to set off the matching tint in her hair.

"It's incredible," Jasmine said, turning her head this way and that.

"I'm incredible," Kai quipped by way of explanation, then she shrugged. "But it's Reggie who made it happen. You be sure to always remember that, k?"

"K." Jasmine's brow creased into a troubled frown. "Is he... is he as bad as they say?"

"Ugh, honey, nobody is as bad as they say," Kai retorted, lifting one white foot, then the other out of the footbath Jasmine had been stepping in.

"D'you have any idea what they said about me? That I was an affront to the Christian faith, and let's not even get started on the Islamic one..."

She tossed her mahogany mane over her sequined shoulder, then resumed the pedicure. "Hell, even the rational atheists had a go," she sighed as if heartbroken. "It's a sad day when the words 'abnormal' and 'freak' are in liberal use, if you take my meaning."

When Jasmine didn't respond, Kai looked up in the mirror. She saw her genuine confusion; she had no idea what the other woman was talking about.

"Aww," Kai cooed. She straightened in her chair and cocked her head to the side. "You didn't realize."

"What?"

Kai giggled and leaned closer. "I wasn't always a girl," she whispered, then laughed when the other's jaw hit the floor.

Jasmine felt unutterably naive. "Gosh, I didn't... I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

"Thank you," Kai cut in, determined to take it as a compliment. She began working on Jasmine's other foot. "That's a relief. Well, it's always a relief when the first response isn't to knock my teeth out, but..."

She caught the horror in Jasmine's eyes and smiled. "It's okay, honey, that's a thing of the past," she assured her. "Nobody fucks with me now. And they won't fuck with you either from here on out, you know why?"

She leaned closer when Jasmine shook her head. "Because we're Reggie's girls." Her glee allowed her voice to come out as a squeal. "Untouchable."

For the rest of the pedicure, Jasmine remained silent, mulling Kai's words over.

"Sounds like he saved you," she muttered when her feet were done.

"He did!" Kai declared without hesitation as she gathered her instruments. "If it wasn't for Reggie, by now, I'd be a dead man. Twice the tragedy, I know."

"But why?" Jasmine turned round in her chair to look up at her. "What did he get out of it?"

Kai gave her an indulgent, almost maternal smile. "What do you think? I don't have any money. Well, I didn't," she amended with a casual shrug. "He knows I'm a fucking goddess, of course, but... well, I'm not his type. So what's left, d'you think?"

Jasmine frowned in reflection but didn't answer.

Kai laughed. "Jasmine - it's Jasmine, right? - don't believe everything you hear." She shook her head as she smiled at her. "Just don't. Because a lot of the time, they don't have a fucking clue."

Just then, McComb opened the door and walked in carrying multiple shopping bags. "She ready, Kai?"

Kai looked at him in mock-indignation. "Of course, she is! Trying to say I'm losing my touch?"

He flashed a devilish smile. "I'm not that crazy."

His eyes slid over Jasmine, surveying her transformation. "Unless it's about her."

"I can see that. I'd never expect you to go shopping for a girl," Kai smirked.

He nodded to Jasmine as he walked to where she sat. "She does." When he was behind her chair, he bent over he shoulder to admire her profile. "She expects all kinds of things from me," he murmured. "She knows she's got me wrapped round her little finger."

Jasmine's cheeks grew pinker.

"In all the excitement, we forgot about your shoes," McComb whispered, bringing his nose to her hair. "But I got you a bunch of sizes you can try."

"Thank you," she said in a meek voice. "Can I change by myself?"

He nodded and placed the bags in her lap. "Of course. Don't be long."

Kai showed her to a surprisingly spacious restroom then closed the door, revealing a full-length mirror behind it. Alone for the first time that night, Jasmine ripped her phone out of her pocket.

She dialed, then waited with the phone at her ear. Why wasn't Ted picking up? She dialed again, began to pace. He still wasn't answering.

Jasmine put the phone down beside the sink, her vibrating hand making it clatter a little. What to do, what to do?

It was clear McComb was on some kind of charm offensive here, at least until he figured out just who she was. No doubt he'd instructed Kai to feed her the official Life and Times of Saint Reginald- when he might even be the one behind her wrecked tires!

With a weary shake of her head, Jasmine began to undress. She'd better get moving, lest he impose his assistance on her. He seemed in a mood to do something like that, just to see her even more petrified than she already was.

When she came out, Tiny had returned. Kai fussed over her dark green silk dress, saying how "divine" it went with her hair. McComb was more restrained in his praise. He wanted them to get going.

The ride to the restaurant was no less nerve-racking for Jasmine. But as she kept looking down at her dress, she marveled that he hadn't made her wear something skimpy and degrading.

She was very comfortable in the high-necked, sleeveless sheath. It hugged her form, but ended just below her knees and so did not restrict movement.

She couldn't complain about the shoes either. The black, strappy sandals were beaded with pretty bottle-green crystals. The heels were high but not stripperish. Overall, it was a surprising selection. She wiggled her cerise-tipped toes in wonder.

"I hope you like the outfit."

Jasmine looked up at him, aware of her relieved expression but unable to help it. "It's nice."

McComb regarded her with a pleased look. "You like the teddy?"

Her blush blazed its way to her hairline and she glanced out the window. "It's- adequate," she maligned the unspeakably sumptuous confection underneath her dress.

"You should model it for Ted when he comes back."

Jasmine turned to him again with a speculative look. He spoke of Ted coming back as if he wanted him to.

"I hope he comes back," she said in a low, serious voice. "A lot of people care about Ted very much, and if anything were to happen to him-"

"God forbid," McComb interrupted. "In any case, he's not been gone six hours. Let's at least wait awhile before we start getting pessimistic."

"You think he'll come back, then?"

"Either that, or I'll find him."

"I can't help thinking he'd turn up quicker if you stayed away," Jasmine dared, her eyes wide.

"I need to speak with him ASAP. That's guarantee enough that he'll be found in the shortest amount of time," he countered, turning to look directly in her eyes. "He will be, thanks to me."

Her slight body bristled with sudden, irreprisible hostility. "It's thanks to you he's missing in the first place!"

A stony silence cradled her outburst. McComb met her gaze dead-on and though he made no move toward her, she drew back in renewed fright.

Good God, was she crazy?! Reggie McComb was not known for taking things in stride!

"I'm sorry," Jasmine gasped, looking down at her lap. The threat of retribution looming large, her heart was in her throat; but in the place of an avenging fist came his voice, soft and infinitely controlled.

"Jasmine."

She turned to him at once, eyes wide and wary.

"Didn't I say I don't want to hurt Ted?"

She nodded.

"And didn't I say I need to find him as much as you do?"

"Yes."

"I meant it. Now it's up to you to decide if you want to help me or get in my way."

Jasmine shook her head, pink lips parted. "I'm willing to work together, sir."

He smiled in satisfaction. "Good girl."

* * *

Throughout dinner, Jasmine fortified her nerves with the full-bodied wine the waiter had suggested. Even so, her host was so convivial, so engaging a conversationalist that she almost enjoyed his company. At any rate, no marination was necessary to make it bearable.

"You know the longer you talk," McComb said at one point, "the more I can hear a little bit of Mississippi in there trying to come out."

Jasmine's head came up, as did her eyebrows. "How did you..."

He laughed as he poured her another glass of the robust red.

"I've got family in the Delta." He smiled at her. "I'm in tune with that area's charms wherever I find them. Especially in times like this. New York has a way of making you real nostalgic for Southern hospitality."

"Yeah," Jasmine sighed, contemplating her wineglass.

"The clean air, the quiet, the comfort food... there's something about the smell of Mississippi Mud Cake, just as it's leaving the oven..."

"Yeah." She closed her eyes and savored a blissful memory. "My Nana used to bake that when I went to visit her. Every summer since I was little."

"Yeah? Summer's almost here. You should go visit her, or is she...?"

"She's alive," Jasmine told him, opening her eyes again. "And very spry, I don't worry about her."

The one she was worried about was Ted. Remembering him made her small smile vanish. She didn't talk much thereafter and they left the restaurant after she declined dessert.

As soon as they passed into the inviting warmth of his car, Jasmine, unused to the caliber of the heady vintage she had downed, dozed off in her corner. Some time later, she thought she heard someone whisper her name.

Wrapped in the velvety folds of sleep, she refused to answer. And disturb her insular idyll? Why would she abandon her succor? In the fell forest of her fears, she had at last found her enchanted clearing. She felt sure and free in a way totally foreign to her in waking hours.

Why, she could be in Kansas, after all. Or perhaps in Prince Charming's arms...

As if to indulge her foolish fancy, a pair of warm lips found hers in a soft kiss. Her unfettered subconscious recognized those lips instantly; somehow, she was prescient to their utter sensuousness, their wine-coated decadence.

Not surprise then, but the pleasure of gratified expectation filled her. With a grateful purr, Jasmine parted her own lips in welcome. Her reward was a delicious flick of a foreign tongue against the tip of hers.

It felt so good her hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of shirt and tie in a silent demand for more. She got her encore, this time in bone-melting slow motion, followed by a lazy exploration of the inside of her upper lip.

A husky groan escaped her as her fingers, searching for bare skin to touch, trailed higher. She found a corded neck which she stroked, before cupping a nape edged with textured curls.

The bold tongue in her mouth rubbed itself against hers over and over, making her frown in pleasurable distraction. A big hand clasped her shoulder then stroked down her bare arm, awakening goosebumps that chased after it.

Another hand came up to her back, pushing forward until her soft breasts encountered a much broader chest. She gave an approving moan. A deeper moan answered her, and the masculine sound seemed to reverberate through her soft nipples, stiffening them.

A growing urgency crept into her languor. Her breath shortened as the kiss became more demanding. The entire universe was tilting - or perhaps it was she, being eased to a horizontal position.

The expanse of plush leather now at her back confirmed it. Her hands splayed over narrow sideburns, encouraging the ravaging of her willing mouth.

But the mouth above her own seemed to be retreating now; the kisses became lighter, flirtatious. Then they stopped.

Jasmine whimpered in thwarted desire and tugged at starched lapels. The sense of loss was unbearable.

"Stop that," a deep voice chuckled in her ear. "We'll fuck all night if you gotta have it this bad. Just not in front of Tiny, alright?"

Who was...? Her eyes snapped open, a sudden dread chilling her spine.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jasmine demanded in a shaken whisper.

McComb lifted his head and gazed down at her.

"Frightening and arousing you at the same time, I believe." He flicked her red cheek and grinned. "Looks like I'm right."

Jasmine gave an angry shake of her head and pulled back her hands from his chest. "It's the wine-"

"Just stop," McComb rebuked with laughing eyes. "Too late to lie about it, you're a hot little bitch. Little Teddy keep you on a tight leash?"

Her mind raced for a means to put him off. "Interested in Ted's leftovers?" Jasmine sneered.

"Well, see, I have to be at least curious," he side-stepped smoothly. "I kissed you 'cause I thought it'd been fun to watch you jump out of your skin. Imagine my surprise when you damn near swallowed me whole. Then again, I had wondered what your pretty little head was doing on my shoulder in the first place."

"I thought you were Ted!"

Actually she'd not even put a face to him. But this was an emergency and in his absence, this was how Ted could save her: her jokey pal was now her amazing, incomparable lover, eclipsing all other men, even this one.

McComb picked up her small hand, raised it to his cheek and rubbed her palm against his sideburn. His smile far too knowing, he murmured, "This feel like Ted to you?"

Jasmine held very still and said nothing. Ted, of course, had no facial hair whatsoever. As she'd been kissing McComb, she'd stroked his unfamiliar face, which would have prompted her stop if baby-faced Ted had been on her mind.

Laughing to himself, he kissed her palm then released it. "Ted's got himself a problem here."

Her face flamed at the implication that she couldn't stay faithful. Far from oversexed, she had only had one boyfriend, ever!

"I love Ted," she ground out, an icy ring of truth to her words.

"You want me," McComb parried, his eyes roaming over her flushed face, her still-panting lips.

"I don't-"

"I am 35, twice divorced and have dated a lot, you really think you can lie to me about this, of all things?" He paused, then his eyes grew dead serious. "You'd be much better off around me if you didn't happen to strike me as a liar, Jasmine. That clear?"

She gave a jerky nod of her head, her eyelashes lowering. "Yes, sir."

"And now that you're awake, I might as well tell you we're headed to my place."

"Your place?" She looked at him again in frantic worry, willing him to say she'd misheard.

His smile held no trace of guile. "You fell asleep before you gave us your address," McComb explained, then his expression turning sympathetic added, "And you've been through so much in such a short time, I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Seemed easier to let you spend the night in my guest room."

Jasmine nodded again, forcing herself to keep calm in the face of a despair that threatened to consume her. "Guest room will do fine, sir."

"Of course, my bedroom is also at your disposal," he submitted, dipping his mouth again to her cheek and throat. "The view's better, the bed's bigger, the sheets are silk..." His teeth nipped her earlobe.

"Perfect for making love," he whispered in her ear.

Incredibly, Jasmine found herself wishing they were already at his place - the sooner she could lock herself away in his guest room, the better!

"I'll manage- thanks," she stammered.

McComb lifted his head and looked at her in amusement. "You sure? I hate the thought of a guest being in distress under my roof."

The back of his hand slid down her throat, eliciting a shiver. "So if you find it too drafty over there, my bedroom door will be open. I sleep in the buff, so all you have to do is wake me."

Jasmine couldn't imagine doing anything of the sort! If she ever came upon Reggie McComb vulnerable for once, naked and asleep, she would... well, she would...

"Like that idea, do you?" he murmured, studying her expressive face.

"No!" she snapped, her brows drawing together in a forbidding scowl.

"Alright, baby." McComb's expression was once again cool and distant. "But you're obviously still a little shaken. Maybe all you need is to feel a strong pair of arms holding you tonight, and nothing else."

His fingers stroked her cheek again, his voice becoming gentle. "You can get that too, sweetheart. You wanna talk, or just wanna cry, you come to me. Understand?"




Reggie's Girl Ch. 01



"Yes, sir," Jasmine answered, her frown deepening with her befuddlement.

"Alright, then."

McComb lifted himself off her and pulled her upright. She took care to move away from him in as natural, unrushed movements as she could manage so it didn't seem like she was recoiling from him. The rest of the ride passed in almost companionable silence.

When they arrived at his town house, Jasmine took no time to admire its artsy, modern accents.

"Could you show me to my room, please?" she asked McComb as soon as he'd locked up the front door, leaving the chauffeur outside. It looked like Tiny didn't sleep in here.

"You won't have a coffee?" His brow lifted in mild surprise as he turned to her. "I was just about to make us some."

"No, I'm wiped out." She tempered her refusal with a polite smile.

"Suit yourself." He pointed to a staircase at the end of the living room. "Upstairs, to your far left. Feel free to use the shower."

Jasmine nodded, already hurrying to the stairs. "Thanks. Good night."

But there was always an unwelcoming quality to a strange bed, which delayed or prevented sleep altogether. Jasmine fell prey to it now, and with it, all the worries that had haunted her earlier.

She tried calling Ted again, gave up on the nineteenth try. Wherever he was, his phone wasn't with him. Either that, or-

Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut and thrust the thought away incomplete. She had to hope for the best. It was all that was keeping her together. Besides, hadn't McComb said he'd find Ted?

Lord deliver her, Reggie McComb, of all people, was where her hopes lay. But it couldn't be denied that if she hadn't accepted his olive branch, she'd be a bleeding mess right now. Feeling useless, begging the even more useless police not to wait before starting a search.

The hours crawled by. With still no prospect of sleep beckoning, Jasmine got up at last. She took a brisk shower in the en suite bathroom, toweled off and slipped back into the teddy McComb had bought her.

She frowned as she finger-combed her hair. That man was a puzzle. He was being so obliging.

But then, he was a notorious criminal. He probably wasn't running on common decency; it was almost certain he had an angle. That he was being so nice to her could signify that he took her job in the "media" seriously enough to try and win her over.

So be it. That was the one card she had, and its expiration was fast approaching. She would have to play it now before he discovered she was of no consequence.

A dark blue robe hung on a hook on the bathroom door and Jasmine plucked it down and pulled it on, nearly drowning in the oversize garment. Thus dressed for business, she left her room.

Her hunch that the master bedroom was the last door on the corridor turned out to be correct. The door was wide open, too.

But looking into the huge bed in the center of the room, she could not make out a sleeping form. The black silk sheets were disturbed, and farther beyond was a desk and chair, similarly unoccupied, illuminated by a small lamp.

Where was he? Jasmine tapped her fingers against the doorjamb, not knowing whether to wait for him or return to her room.

"Sleep walking, sugar?"

She turned around to find McComb sipping from a steaming cup of coffee. He awaited her response with a lazy, knowing smile.

"I just got here," Jasmine mumbled, forcing herself to look away from his shirtless torso. All he had on was a pair of sweats.

He stepped around her and crossed the threshhold into his shadowy bedroom.

"You wanted something?" he asked, walking to his desk. He bent and riffled through a sheaf of papers there, making the muscles glide and ripple across his back.

"I wanted to thank you for dinner and everything," Jasmine began, squelching the innocent feminine fascination he commanded. "I realize you were trying to make me feel better. I appreciate that."

She discovered she meant it; her gratitude was wholly sincere, to her surprise.

"Don't mention it." McComb kept his attention on his desk. "Is that all?"

"Um... no." She moved from the doorway to come stand before him. "I wanted to ask you, sir: why are you looking for Ted?"

"Ah," he exclaimed, then glanced her way with an apologetic wince. "I'm afraid, that's strictly between Ted and I."

Taking courage from his continued civility, she pressed, "Don't you think I have a right to know? I mean, in light of our relationship?"

He started to laugh. "Let me get this right. You're saying this epic romance between you two is so profound that I, a total stranger, should be the one to fill you in about your soulmate?" He chuckled and shook his head at the notion. "Swear to God I'd still be married if I had half this kid's game."

Jasmine narrowed her eyes, sensing an unpleasant insinuation beneath the sarcasm. "Are you saying Ted has something to hide?"

McComb finally turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "Nah, forget what I'm saying," he dismissed. "What's Mr Ripley got to say? His talented ass called you yet?"

Her gaze darted to the floor as a sudden inexplicable embarrassment swamped her. "No," she admitted gruffly. "But that means nothing, he might have left his phone at home, or- or lost it, or..."

Jasmine slapped a hand to her chest as a staggering possibility suddenly occurred to her. "He could've gone to my place," she gasped. "Oh my God, he did, he came looking for me. Why didn't I think of that?"

Her frantic eyes met his. "You're looking for him. Why didn't you-"

McComb's lips curved in bland amusement. "Let him wonder where you are. That oughta bring him out of hiding faster than anything else."

She gaped at him, speechless for a second, then erupted, "You've been using me to manipulate him?! And you didn't even tell me? Who does that?"

"It might have been you, if you hadn't been so wrapped up in your own problems" he mocked. "By the way, not to take away from your Worst Night Ever or anything, but your car's spending the night at my nephew's body shop, all four tires replaced. Nonetheless, feel free to harbor hysterical fantasies about yours truly."

Jasmine glowered at him, feeling more and more deflated as he spoke. "I must apologize," she sniffed in disdain. "I'm afraid some of us haven't been involved in enough disappearances to handle this one like a pro."

It was possible that the barb was uncalled for. Certainly, it was uncharacteristic; attitude just wasn't her thing. But for God's sake, the raging sociopath didn't get to throw her failings, minor as they were, in her face!

McComb seemed thoroughly unimpressed with her lip. He stepped closer, towering over her in a way that had her shrinking back. "Oh, so you know I'm a pro?" he queried, a deceptive lightness to his tone. "You know how I got to be one, Jasmine? I'll show you."

Jasmine flinched as he wrenched her wrists from her sides. He slapped her damp palms over his hips and left them there. Jasmine didn't dare speak again, just looked up at him in dread.

"Your move, Jasmine. Pat me down."

"I- what?"

His voice still mild, he repeated, "Check me for a weapon."

She didn't move, uncertain of what to make of his request. "Now!"

At once, her hands fluttered over his lean hips and the tops of his thighs. "You're clean," she announced, not knowing what else to say.

"Nope! That's not how you do it," McComb criticized.

"I'm s-"

"Don't apologize non-ironically, it's an eat-or-be-eaten situation when you're frisking a man, you gotta show him who's boss. Give him a damn good reason to keep his hands in the air or those motherfuckers won't stay there, understand?"

Jasmine gave an indinstinct nod, trying keep up with his mile-a-minute conjurer's patter.

"You want his fear, his respect, so you gotta bring on the humiliation. You know how you do that? No? For starters, you can't be afraid to put your hands on a dude. Rough groping, blatant ass-grabbing, hell, 'accidentally' take it out while you're at it. Make it clear that you can do all kinds of gratuitous shit that he's helpless to stop."

As he spoke, a recurrent twitch began to work her lips. "Take it out?" Jasmine echoed, struggling to keep a straight face. "Really?"

A beat passed as McComb surveyed her face, his own deadpan. "I assume from that blush that's the only part you heard?"

"Oh, I also got the part about grabbing ass."

He chuckled then, and Jasmine released her inward giggle. When she looked up again, she was instantly captivated by his eyes. In the soft glow of the lamp, she could see, not soulless craters, but warm brown irises, flecked with gold.

Some half-despairing instinct warned her that she had misjudged the danger Reggie McComb posed, that she should look away right now. But her photographer's mind prevailed and she drank in every last detail of those rare eyes.

"You can't be soft," McComb lectured, his palm alighting on the small of her back. "You see an advantage, you take it. No apologies."

"And it's to my advantage to have you... exposed?" The heat in her cheeks, and elsewhere, intensified at the forbidden image.

"That is the most vulnerable part of me, right?"

"Right," Jasmine she concurred in strangled tones.

"And if I happened to have a hard-on thanks to all your mauling, that'd complicate matters for me exponentially, don't you think?" he put to her. His softly spoken logic was flawless but distracting. Devastating.

"I guess." Her breathing was shallow enough to disrupt her already halting speech. "But then... I mean, since you're not... hard-"

"Before you go jumping to conclusions," McComb paused and Jasmine, waiting for him to finish with bated breath, unthinkingly returned his light kiss, "why don't you check your sources, hm?"

Their gazes locked for an eternity. It occurred to her then that a hysterical retreat was exactly what he was expecting. All evening she'd been trying to tell him to leave her alone. Each time he had responded by forcing her, with obvious relish, into greater contact with him.

Demon that he was, he fed off her fears, derived his pleasure from terrorizing her. He'd probably been looking forward all night to a bestial rape scene, filled with all the screaming, fighting and begging she could supply.

But what if she stopped running? That would end the chase of course; he might lose interest in easy prey. Then again, he might accept her surrender as reward for his efforts.

And if it came to that, he wouldn't bother inciting her aberrant sexual response. He may even be more sadistic than if she fought him.

McComb had a faint smile on his lips, reflected in his eyes. Jasmine had the sudden sense that he knew exactly what she was thinking. But he still stood waiting for her to move. He did not try to influence her in any way; his body language was neither cajoling nor threatening. His arms hung at his sides and if anything, he seemed oddly submissive.

Her hand then, slowly, came up from her side and very lightly palmed the bulge between his legs. The fabric seemed to vanish on contact. He was so warm.

Jasmine frowned in confusion. While his general size was far from modest, he was not quite rock-hard. But how come?

"Don't look so disappointed, baby," he said with a low laugh. "The good news is it's not me, it's you. Yeah, you heard right, and don't even try to pout. You know you're being lazy. Just 'cause I'm at your mercy doesn't mean you don't have to work for-"

Jasmine stood on tiptoe and kissed him then, as much to shut him up as to rise to the challenge. He made a muffled sound between a gasp and a laugh then wrapped his buff arms around her. She found he tasted of very sweet coffee and perhaps a hint of fine tobacco, as though he'd smoked earlier in the night.

But even had they not been thus spiced, his kisses would still prove more delectable than she'd remembered. Indeed, it took some effort to remember her motives. She sucked on his tongue in slow, suggestive repetition. In perfect rhythm with her mouth's suction, she grasped his dick and tugged gently, again and again.

She made a gloating sound in her throat as, despite the barrier of cloth, she felt him harden in her palm. McComb chuckled in response and cupped her cheek, but let her remain in charge of the kiss.

Jasmine let her other hand go round his waist and dip beneath his waistband. His naked ass in her palm just about begged to have its firmness squeezed. She did; it felt incredible.

With a sigh, she squeezed his cock as well, now massaging the hot, stiff flesh. McComb growled against her lips, and in the slightest of movements, his hips swayed forward, humping her hand. He was just starting to lose his self-control and it drove her to the limits of hers.

Breathless, Jasmine tore her lips away and looked as she tugged his sweats down around his thighs. His cock sprung free, startling her. It had expanded to unnerving proportions. It pointed straight at her now, as though singling her out for itself.

McComb bent his head, blocking her view as he sucked on the side of her neck. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jasmine gave in to her need and touched his naked cock; it almost burned her fingers. Its veins were so prominent and pulsed so hard, she could trace them even without looking. The tip of his erection was beginning to moisten too, leaving a small wet smear on her palm.

All of a sudden, the enormity of what they were doing, of what they were about to do, the enormity of him hit her like a ton of bricks. What on earth was she doing? Did she imagine this could end well?!

"That's nice, baby. Real nice, but you better relax," McComb cautioned, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. "Ol' Henry can smell fear."

In spite of herself, Jasmine smiled against his throat. "You call it Henry?" she asked, starting to jack his dick up and down.

"Well... he really wanted an authentic African name. But we agreed the girls were freaked out by him as it is, so..." He let her bubbling giggles abate before he continued with a distinct note of approval in his sexy voice. "Well, you obviously know better than to show fear in front of a hostage. So tell me. What do you plan on doing to me?"

She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "Sir, I think I'm way beyond anything I ever planned," she confessed.

"Don't give me that, you gotta put me in my place. Now, where that might be is up to you. Maybe it's flat on my back in bed, you on top riding me. Maybe it's down on my knees right now, giving you head. Think about it."

Jasmine couldn't believe how turned on she was. Even he wasn't nearly as affected as she was, when it was he being masturbated. She'd never been this wet for anyone. McComb leaned his forehead against hers, his beautiful eyes closer than ever.

"Remember, Jasmine, eat or be eaten. You really think I wouldn't exploit you if you were my hostage?" he whispered.

"You wouldn't," Jasmine whispered back.

"I damn well would, and you know it."

McComb looked her straight in the eye and she knew then, without a doubt, that he wasn't lying. And as she felt herself seduced by his bluntness, she knew one thing more: she was not going back to her room.

Jasmine stilled, exhaled, then pulled her hands off his hard body. With a slight smile she looked up at him, undid her fluffy belt and shrugged off the robe. In matter of seconds, her teddy also lay discarded around her feet.

McComb moved closer again with an approving smile as he caught her hands and brought them up around his neck. He bent his head while his hands fell to her waist. She eased her head back and parted her lips for him.

It wasn't a fluke, what had happened in the car: one kiss from this man and Jasmine forgot everything. What he was, who she was trying to be, what self-preservation meant. All she knew was that she couldn't let him stop again.

"Permission to carry you to bed," McComb murmured against her hungry lips.

"Permission granted," she sighed, though she knew he was being facetious. He could have his little laugh at her expense. She would determine how she felt about it when he'd dealt with the lust racking her body.

Jasmine felt a hand behind her knees, then she was scooped up as if she weighed nothing. He walked over to the large bed and with no ceremony at all threw her on it.

"Sorry." His grin didn't bear out the sentiment but then he lay on top of her and she couldn't have cared less. "I'm just so anxious to please you."

Her startled daze subsided and she succumbed to his nonsense. "Mm, I like them eager," Jasmine murmured with an impish grin. She ran her hand over his hair as she met his eyes. "I also like when they suck my tits for ages."

"I'm on it."

McComb immediately moved down her body with becoming docility and took her nipple between his lips. He played with it at first, licking then blowing the taut nub until she squirmed.

Then he began to suck, long and slow, and Jasmine found herself hyperventilating. It felt so good, the wet grainy texture of his tongue on her sensitive flesh, she couldn't regulate her breathing, though her breasts shuddered from the effort.

She arched into his mouth, and he cupped her other breast. His thumb plucked the rigid nipple, nice and slow.

"Oh yeah, just like that," she cooed. "Now use your teeth, just a little-"

Jasmine emitted a sudden cry when his teeth nipped her screaming nipple.

"Too much?" McComb enquired against her skin.

"Yes too much, but that doesn't mean you stop! Keep doing it!"

She saw the corners of his lips flicker. "Yes, ma'am."

He went on sucking and grazing her nipple with his teeth for the longest time until he moved on to the other one at her direction. When both peaks were rose-red and sore, Jasmine requested yet "more" and kept tilting up her hips.

McComb gave no indication he understood her delicate phrasing. His tongue remained at her navel, stabbing the tiny hollow until she groaned in agony.

Spreading her thighs wider, Jasmine lifted her hips again. "I need... please sir... more..."

Her hints went ignored. Regardless, her body inched closer to orgasm. His busy tongue allowed her no respite, but offered no relief either. It wandered to the edge of her pubic hair then made a wet outline of the fine-haired triangle.

"For God's sake eat me out," Jasmine sobbed at last, abandoning all modesty. "Just do it, eat my little pussy, it's yours. All yours."

This time, it was McComb who angled her hips upward with his big hands. Then he kissed her lower lips as though he were kissing a long-lost lover, with a devouring, impatient passion.

If there had been a time she'd felt more vulnerable than now, Jasmine couldn't remember it, with a strange ceiling swimming before her eyes and a far-from-perfect stranger giving her the best oral sex she'd ever had. It was, perhaps, only his total lack of inhibition that kept her own shame at bay.

But there was also something to be said for the deft precision with which McComb wielded his tongue. As he swirled it round and round her cunt, mopping up her surging wetness as it occurred, Jasmine had the feverish impression that perhaps his tongue was more flexible than was natural.

McComb started to fuck her with it and she knew he was indeed blessed with an extraordinary mouth. It felt like being teased, but being forcefully fucked at the same time. So much so she put her legs around his neck and bucked in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Fuck me," Jasmine implored. "Oh please don't stop, fuck me." She was lost.

Of course the idea that he was her hostage was always farcical. The reverse was closer to the truth, except Jasmine did not feel like a captive at all. If he pushed her away now, she would freely grovel for his favors.

Her worst fears threatened to materialize when he pulled his mouth away. "No!" she yelped in desperation. She tightened her legs around his neck. "Please sir, you wouldn't leave me like this!"




Reggie's Girl Ch. 01



"Course not, baby." Jasmine heard a trace of surprise in his voice. "Relax. I know what I'm doing."

The next thing she felt was his tongue strolling along the hood of her clit. She waited for his attention to switch to the miniature erection itself, but for lap after lap after lap McComb subjected it to a cruel snub.

Nonetheless, her climax was at hand. When she was teetering on the very edge, his mouth suddenly veered off to cover her straining clit. With a startled yell, Jasmine jerked her hips upwards and came in an exquisite prolonged shudder.

For long seconds afterwards, she felt like she was floating inches above her body. "My God," she wheezed, trying to still her spinning world.

McComb went right on licking her, didn't respond to the grateful hand she lay on his head. "No more, sir," she said, and the unbridled warmth in her voice made her flush up even more. "You did it, I came already."

As if he'd just needed her verbal confirmation, he now withdrew his mouth. "I think I can make you come again," McComb replied, resting his chin on the hump of strawberry-gold curls above her sex. His words plus the sexy, hooded look in his eye had her spit-polished pussy ruining all his hard work with another leak.

"I doubt it," Jasmine denied, shaking her head with hot-faced vehemence. "In any case, you need a break. Your tongue is going to get a cramp or something."

"You know my tongue's not all I've got to work with," he reminded her. His crooked grin was almost enough to set her panting again. She squirmed up the bed until his head was no longer between her thighs, then swiftly rose to her knees. Her retreat halted when McComb rose as well and reached for her wrist.

He didn't snatch at her, but Jasmine couldn't resist the easy pull with which he brought her to him. Her eyes pleaded with his grave countenance as he brought her hand to his engorged dick.

He was harder than ever, like hot, satiny granite, a discovery that prompted a perverse overflow in her pussy. Wet as she was, it would no doubt be difficult to take him. But she could do it. She sensed he had no will to hurt her. He'd even make it really good for her.

Shaking her head clear of such traitorous thoughts, Jasmine brought her hands up against his chest. But she was much struck by the difference in their complexions, and forgetting all else, she let her small hands explore the acre of dark skin that spanned his chest.

McComb wrapped her in a loose embrace, letting her study the contrast. "I got no fight in me left, baby," he murmured, kissing her temple, her cheek. "Now, why don't you move in for the kill?"

But Jasmine knew what he was doing and gave a difficult shake of her head. Her arms climbed around his neck and she locked her earnest gaze with his. "I- I think I'm done, sir. I've had a great time tonight, you've been amazing-"

"I can be more so," McComb replied. He palmed her ass and rubbed his tumescent cock against her belly, further undermining her already shaky resolve not to have sex with him.

"Oh shit," Jasmine hissed. It wasn't fair. She was resisting two people at the same time, McComb and herself; it was so hard to ignore that fat, naked cock against her.

McComb eased her head back and kissed a wet trail down her throat, but it was her own hips which had started to grind into him. He was too close, too naked, too big for her to resist.

"Look at you," he admonished as he ran his hands over her trembling nakedness. "You're in bad fuckin' shape, baby, make me do something about it."

"No." Jasmine hid her face in his throat as she kept rubbing her body against his. After dragging her nipples on his chest a few times, she felt mindless with need.

McComb grabbed her hair in his fist and pulled her head back again. Forced to make eye contact, she was surprised to find him looking so serious. No shit-eating grin mocking her own wild, trapped expression. He had all the appearance of a man not fucking around.

"Fuck me," he snarled at her.

"Yeah," Jasmine gasped. Her head bobbed up and down in eager capitulation. "Okay."

She arranged herself in his bed as McComb went to open the bedside drawer. He retrieved a condom and she felt a rush of apprehension as she took in the size of his dick. Darkly beautiful as it was to look at, it could only hurt to take him within her.

Jasmine's eyes lifted to his. She saw no tenderness or reassurance therein, but somehow, his humorless resolve put the last of her reservations to rest. After all, she wanted him every bit as much as he so clearly did her.

So when McComb slipped between the black sheets and reached for her, she went to him. She returned his wet kisses, she let him feel up her bare curves, she let him ease her leg over his torso so she sat astride him.

Placing an unsteady hand on his chest, Jasmine wrapped her other one round his enormous rod and guided it to her oozing opening. With extreme care, she sank onto his dick, a few millimeters at a time.

After a long time, her sharp gasps gave way to a groaning sigh as she settled him to the hilt inside her.

"That's right, take me, woman," McComb urged. Her ass stung from the sudden swat he gave it and she couldn't repress the light laugh that issued from her throat. He really was not good at this hostage thing.

Jasmine opened her eyes to find him watching her face with a faint smile. "Jump on that dick," he breathed. Her pelvis lurched into prompt motion, even as her mind groped for a sassy retort.

In seconds, their brief levity dissipated into the ether as they gave themselves over to the deadly serious business of fucking. Jasmine lost herself in his glazed frown and the primitive hypnosis of her rhythm.

She became conscious of her boobs starting to hurt as they repeatedly flew up, then landed on her ribcage with a meaty slap. McComb must have read her efforts to protect the soft mounds as an attempt to hide them because he grabbed her wrists and yanked them to her sides.

Jasmine didn't pause her jack-hammering motions but thrust her tits out so he'd hold them for her. Instead he just pushed her hair so it tumbled down her back, leaving her bouncing breasts exposed. He leaned in and licked a nipple.

She gave a desperate, warning moan. Between him French kissing her tits and the friction of their fused loins, it was just too much sensation to bear.

McComb licked her again and she came unbeliavably hard, with a loud and inelegant groan. Her jouncing hips froze. Her inner muscles clenched his cock until the intense throb passed. But when it was over, he was still so nice and hard, it was impossible to keep from grinding into him.

He liked it too. His fingers dug into her hips, forbidding her to stop. So she kept rocking back and forth. Moments later, she gave in to a nagging temptation and wet her fingers in her mouth before brushing them over her clit. The raw enjoyment with which he watched her compounded her pleasure.

Jasmine looked him straight in the eye as she rode on, still touching herself. She felt so shameless, enslaved to her lust, but she couldn't help it. Those two incredible orgasms had altered her and all she cared about was getting the third. He saw it and she didn't care.

With the additional rubbing on her clit, it didn't take Jasmine long to come again. She braced her hands on his chest to keep from falling forward. Her hips didn't stop moving, though. Climax-weakened as her body was, she still wanted to go on fucking.

Jasmine bowed her head so her hair shielded her face from his gaze. The slaking of her initial lust now brought other emotions to the fore, shame chief among them. She couldn't escape the feeling that she had betrayed someone horribly - maybe Ted, definitely herself - yet she still couldn't get over how good it all felt.

"This is so wrong," Jasmine mumbled, but there was nowhere else to go. Her body wasn't done with McComb, and he sure as hell wasn't done with her body. She was his for the night and they both knew it.

"Make me stop," Jasmine entreated. It was a measure of how desperate she felt that she could even ask it of him.

"Good girls," she heard McComb say on a derisive laugh. "Y'all ain't never had sex you're willing to take responsibility for."

"I can't do this anymore," Jasmine said, lifting her head to face him. Her body still moved around his dick, enjoying it far more than was decent. "I feel like a whore."

"You're not a whore, baby," he purred, as his hands slid up to fondle her breasts. "You're Ted's girl."

"Stop it!" His mockery plus the sheer delight of his caresses added up to the most unbearable torture.

"You stop. Right now," McComb challenged. "Why you riding me, I said stop! What's that? Oh, you can't? Damn baby, then maybe you are a whore."

A sob broke from Jasmine's chest. She hated him for saying that, but how could she deny the stiffening of her body as another orgasm approached? She ran the full length of her middle finger up and down her peeking clit, not even content to wait for it in passivity.

One of the hands on her breasts caught her nipple in a tight pinch, and her hoarse scream filled the room. Her pussy began to spasm around his large, inescapable member. She flung her head back and let the overwhelming pleasure blot out her conscience for a few blessed seconds.

Jasmine became aware of her mouth being taken in an insistent kiss. Despair morphed into hope and her spirits soared; perhaps she was still drowsing in his back seat. Maybe they hadn't even got to his house yet, maybe it had all been a too-vivid dream.

But no. The scent of sex pervaded the thick air. She felt sweaty all over, her bare nipples were in contact with an equally naked chest and her lower back ached a little. Most damning of all was the mammoth dick jammed inside her almost all the way to her ribs, still hot and turgid.

Jasmine returned the kiss, albeit with considerably less energy than her urgent partner. There just didn't seem much point in mounting at this stage what would be a very belated resistance. McComb dragged her upright again so he could play with her tits. She was so tired she could barely sit up.

She frowned and moaned low in her throat when he began pinching her sensitive nipples again, not altogether in protest. If anything she welcomed the pain, she had received way more pleasure than she deserved this night.

McComb ran a big hand down her back and grabbed her ass. His other hand remained at her breasts, jiggling one in his palm, cupping the side of the other then giving it a light slap. Perhaps he had read her mind or he was just more excited, but he was getting rougher.

Jasmine invited this manhandling, thrusting her hands in her hair and arching her back in blatant provocation. His response was to slap her boobs around some more and for the next minute or so, they just danced for him, not sitting still for a second.

Then from some deep reserve in her psyche that she hadn't known existed, Jasmine summoned a smile of such taunting witchery that it actually distracted McComb from her chest. His own lips curved as he stared into her face.

"Goddamn, you are a whore," he murmured.

In an abrupt movement, he grabbed her waist and twisted their bodies so her back was on the bed. Then her legs were being raised until her calves rested on his shoulders.

God, he was preparing to give her the fucking of her life. Short of breath again, Jasmine looked up at him as his cock nudged open her silky folds. She was still warm and wet, despite her alarm.

Well, duh. Of course she was, she thought in acid amusement. She was a whore, wasn't she? What did she expect? Incidentally, what did he expect?

McComb froze, and his expression went blank when her fingers slipped into his crack, brushing over his anus. For the first time that night, Jasmine saw him completely unprepared for something she did. It was a fascinating lapse.

But he was back to his default self-assurance in a heartbeat. He cocked an arrogant eyebrow as he looked down at her. "You know I'm gonna ruin you for Ted, right?"

"You can try," she whispered, positioning her finger just as he'd positioned his cock to enter her. Her eyes glittered in wicked invitation, almost a dare.

McComb grunted and drove into her in one long, wrenching thrust. If he had stretched her out before, it wasn't apparent now. It hurt like hell. Her mouth opened, an astonished scream frozen in her throat.

He withdrew and surged into her again. She whimpered. Before she'd been able to control their fucking, but now...

Jasmine cried out when he rammed into her yet again. The urge to fight, to buck his weight off her was almost overwhelming but she made herself hold still. The earlier ecstasy had been wrong. This was a more accurate reflection of reality, of who he was.

And of who she knew herself to be. A necessary reminder.

She had no idea how long he fucked her, but he didn't tire for a long time. The pain lost its edge and allowed some faint pleasure to come through. The discomfort she welcomed, but this stirring of good feelings, she resisted.

"Harder," Jasmine panted, tears still streaming down her temples into her hair. She squirmed beneath him, searching for a tender spot in her sex that his cock could aggravate.

McComb silenced her with a crushing kiss and went right on plowing her. She was starting to like it, though, which was unacceptable. She wondered how she could make him come right away. Dirty talk was not an option with all this kissing.

Jasmine began to touch his asshole again and she heard his ragged groan against her lips. She applied a little pressure at his tight rear entrance, letting up once she was one digit in.

His whole body trembled. In pleasure, she thought, not disgust. She knew it was a definite thrill for her, with all the pummeling she was being put through, to be doing some penetrating in her own small way. Her intrepid finger squeezed all the way in and Jasmine felt his fucking get completely out of control. Her pussy was again starting to give those now-familiar pulses in forewarning.

As McComb kept fucking her, she finger-fucked his ass in turn. There wasn't any method to it; she hardly knew what she was doing, but they were both wild now, it didn't matter.

He made an explosive sound in his throat and plunged into her for the final time. Jasmine recognized from the way his dick twitched that he was coming and that knowledge finished her. With a shrill moan, she came too, her knees quaking around his neck.

For the next minutes Jasmine drifted in and out of consciousness. She knew he slid out of her at some point, that he'd shrugged her legs off his shoulders because her calves weren't feeling so stiff now.

Then she was aware of being covered in cool silk and a light kiss brushing her mouth. "I gotta tip my cap to you, Jasmine," said a laughing voice in her ear. "You are a fucking problem."

Jasmine snuggled into the hard body beside her and sighed as a brawny arm came round her. It was odd that, after the rampant madness of the night, any gesture from him should feel comforting. But she felt protected next to him, as well as proud: she had survived his sexual onslaught, had she not?

"Just full of surprises, huh?" she heard him muse as he rubbed his chin over the top of her head. "Guess that's the last time I underestimate you."

Jasmine croaked some boastful retort which she forgot the instant she finished it, then fell thoroughly into an orgasmic stupor.



Reggie's Girl Ch. 02



A favorite pastime of Jasmine's was to take a walk after receiving her paycheck, fingering the precious, crisp paper in her pocket as she made her way from block to block. She resolved to do the same this afternoon, though it would have to be short because her mother had called that morning to ask for a little help.

Besides, after the spring rains that had been rinsing the city all week, the potholed sidewalks were full of deep puddles. Still, she'd just gotten paid and it was hard not to walk around with a general sense of accomplishment.

"You're still a little rough around the edges," Amanda, her photo editor, said. She'd appeared from out of the blue to fall in step beside her. Jasmine turned her dreamy smile to her.

"Oh, I know," she replied as they exited the newspaper's ageing building together.

"You're reliable, but you can do better. Your captions shouldn't be more interesting than the pictures themselves. Stop playing it so safe."

Photography used to be a teenage hobby, which was why Jasmine's was fairly decent at it. Her camera, a solid little DSLR, with its sweet shutter speed and mind-blowing burst rate, demanded a level of expertise as well as talent. But while Amanda was passionate about photography as an art, Jasmine would always see it as a last resort.

"Look, I get that sports isn't your thing," her editor said, her tone dry as though she'd read her thoughts. "And it's maybe twelve people who'll read our little daily on any given day, but you've got talent, Fleet. And I know you want somebody to see it, even if you brush it off yourself."

Jasmine looked down from Amanda's wise green eyes and shrugged. "I'm glad you think I'm talented-"

"I do. I wouldn't be demanding more from you otherwise."

"Well, thank you. I guess."

"I know you'll deliver. You haven't let me down yet. Have a good one!"

As abruptly as she'd appeared, Amanda left Jasmine, crossing the street in impressive defiance of a Don't Walk sign and the whiplashed cabbie cussing up a storm in her wake.

In the next hour, she had wired her mother some money from her savings, cashed her check and was now debating whether to take the N-train to catch up with some buds in Coney Island. It was some time since she'd hung out and shot pool with them.

Right then, Jasmine saw a familiar figure standing some distance in front of her. A young black man in a familiar red baseball cap. Her heart leaped in her chest and she raised her hand in a frantic wave. "Ted," she called.

The man turned in her direction, stared intently for a second then abruptly turned around and started hurrying off. Jasmine started after him then halted. It couldn't have been Ted she had seen. Surely he knew how worried she had been about him. He would never ignore her like that.

With a disappointed sigh, she began to walk again with heavier steps.

"What's happening, Dorothy!"

Jasmine jumped as she heard that already-too-familiar voice. Jesus, was no one going to bother with a greeting today?

The man walking abreast of her stared straight ahead, but from his grin she knew he'd noticed her reaction to him and reveled in it. "What, you thought I was gonna snatch your purse?"

"If I say yes, will you get offended and go away?" she asked, annoyed.

"Relax. No one's gonna chase you today. Only I get that privilege, so consider me your protection. By the way, I got word about your boyfriend last night."

"Ted?" Jasmine almost stopped as she turned to him. "Please tell me he's alright."

"He's some piece of work, I'll say that for him," her companion said with a cackle. "Man's got a death wish or something..."

"What do you mean?" she asked, already dreading his answer.

"Hmm... This happens to be something that touches on Reggie's business, and I know he's a private man, so..."

The man seemed to lose all his confidence at a mere name's mention. It was almost possible to sympathize with him, except "This is about Ted, okay? Not your boss and besides, I'm not likely to tell him that we talked, am I?"

"Look, you wanna find out so bad, then go ask him yourself."

Jasmine gaped at his disappearing back then jostled past some strangers to catch up. "Am I hearing this right?!" she flared. "You are that big a coward that you can't-"

"There's Tiny right there. He should take you to him."

Bewildered, she turned in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, a big black Mercedes stood idling on the curb looking, for all intents and purposes, like it was waiting for them.

A new suspicion taking root, Jasmine stopped alongside him on the street and asked, "Did you follow me?"

"Never heard of coincidence, D?"

"I don't believe in coincidence-" she stopped and gave an irate shake of her head. "I don't even know your name!"

"Xavier," he supplied, his cocky grin returning. "My friends call me X. Girls call me Xtasy. Oh I know, not you, never you! Call me whatever you want."

Jasmine stared at the black car for a long moment. Then she swiveled on her heel and took one step in the opposite direction.

"Whoa, where you going, D?" The deathgrip on her elbow belied Xavier's cheerful tone and brought her to an abrupt halt. "Ain't no answers that way. Unless you don't give a shit about little Teddy no more. If so, I'm more or less single..."

Jasmine scowled at him then looked over at the waiting car. "Is he in there?" she asked, nodding to the vehicle.

"It's just you and Tiny. Hey, hey, don't feel bad. He's a scary motherfucker but he'd never lay a hand on a female."

"It's not that, it's-" Well, she was disappointed. If McComb had been in the car, she could have gleaned the necessary information, then said good-bye forever. Now, what would happen?

"Dorothy, it's alright," Xavier said softly. "If you really don't wanna be left alone with him, I'll come with-"

"Get away from me," Jasmine snarled, pointing a warning finger at him as she walked to the Mercedes. He backed off with a self-aware grin and lifted his hands.

She got in the car and shut the door behind her. Tiny eased the car to blend into the traffic and they made their way down the rain-washed streets.

"Af-afternoon, Tiny."

No response. Jasmine shrugged and settled back to enjoy the ride as well as she could. It wouldn't be easy. A week and a half had elapsed since she'd been in this car, since she'd let McComb pin her to the leather seat and kiss her.

Her conscience scoffed. She had let him do a lot more than kiss her that night. The brutal fact was, she had slept with a man she didn't know. No, a man she knew of, and whose reputation as a human being was tarnished beyond repair.

The urban scenery passed by her eyes unseen. Upon leaving his house the next morning, Jasmine had gone home, slept the clock round then resumed her routine seamlessly. She'd kept trying to contact Ted, of course, to no avail, but apart from having to do without her car, the rest of that night had been surprisingly easy to treat as a lurid dream.

Being in McComb's car, however, on her way to see him, obliterated the illusion. When his gorgeous town house came into view, Jasmine feared she was going to be sick. If she hadn't been so paralyzed with self-loathing, she well might have been.

Tiny pulled up into the cool, shady garage then turned the engine off. He waited for her to get out before he strode off.

"Walk this way," he ordered without a backward glance. Jasmine caught up with his long strides at the oaken front door. It was already open and right in the foyer, there was a woman fussing with her hair before a mirror mounted on the wall.

She had an aura of imperiousness about her, underscored by her expensive, if heavily applied fragrance. Her hair fell in golden waves down to her waist, a look her supermodel height let her pull off. Her skin was enviably tawny for this time of year, much of it on display next to her halter top and gold lamé miniskirt.

Jasmine was caught gawping when the woman turned her head and noticed her. She went very still as her gaze raked her from head to toe, like a gladiator sizing up a rival.

"Ah, Jasmine," a masculine voice purred, in a tone so intimate Jasmine was immediately mortified. McComb appeared at the end of the foyer. "Come on in. Thanks Tiny."

She tried to ignore the silent glare she was being subjected to as she took off her dirty sneakers. Then with her eyes glued to the floor, she stepped round the tall, silent woman and went to McComb.

"Lucia, this is Jasmine," he introduced the two, unheeding of the deathly silence between them. "Jasmine, Lucia. Her father owns the restaurant we went to the other night."

Jasmine saw Lucia lock eyes with McComb, a furious flush spreading beneath the Neapolitan glaze of her skin. "Charmed," Jasmine murmured to no one in particular.

"Would you excuse us a sec?"

She assumed he was talking to her and nodded. "Wait for me in the living room," he directed, his eyes never leaving Lucia's.

Jasmine wandered into the carpeted living room, checking out the art pieces decorating the place. Her gaze was drawn to a small sculpture a human metamorphosing into a strange creature. Was McComb a spiritual type guy? No, it was Afrocentric. She vaguely remembered seeing something like this somewhere, a magazine perhaps-

"Oh Reggie!" The gushing exclamation from the foyer was followed by a laugh of such eminent relief that even Jasmine breathed a little easier from where she was. It would appear McComb had defused the tension, but how?

"Come here and give me a kiss," a breathless Lucia cooed.

As if she'd needed to ask how. Jasmine smirked at the sounds of kissing coming from the foyer. A brief whispered discussion followed before the door shut and footsteps came towards the living room.

"That's a little something I picked up in Zimbabwe," McComb informed her as he approached. "Soapstone. It's been a favored medium for sculptors there since the dawn of the Shona renaissance. Lovely, isn't it?"

Jasmine touched the pale, smooth figurine. "It's beautiful," she acknowledged.

"It's heavy, but fragile. Requires a little more care than it lets on."

"I see." She turned to him and it seemed they were both waiting for the other to add something.

"You look like you could use a drink," McComb said at last. "Whiskey alright?"

"I'm fine, I just need to know what's happening with Ted. How is he?"

He gave her a strange look. "Seriously?" He thrust his hands into his pockets. "What do you care, this is the man who threw you to the wolves so he could save himself."

"It didn't happen like that," Jasmine retorted with swift indignation. "He knew he was in danger-"

"He knew you were in danger, and his bitch ass jumped two stories down and left you."

"A split-second decison, made in the fog of an adrenaline rush! And you know what, it's easy for you to judge-"

"When he leaves his girl to fend for herself in a dicey neighborhood, yeah! It is! Hell, you should be the first to judge!"

"I told you, I love him. I still do. I always will," Jasmine declared. "And as for what happened between us, that was a mistake!" Tears shimmered in her eyes as she admitted her fault. "I have no excuses to make-"

"Neither does Ted," McComb cut in with icy finality. "Which is why I told him who took responsibility for you that night."

Jasmine stared at him with wide eyes, small fists balled at her side. "You told him we..."

"He left you alone, I took you in. He knows what it is."

"How could you?" Jasmine's voice cracked, his careless tone knifing into her insides. "He probably hates me now."

"That chump's got bigger problems. He screwed with the wrong person, didn't hand in the full amount of money for some product he was supposed to sell. He's been in hiding since."

"Product" sounded a lot like a euphemism for drugs, but that wasn't her immediate concern. "When did you talk to him?"

"This morning."

"Where is he? His mother and sister keep calling and I just don't know what to tell them."

"You can tell 'em he's lying low for awhile. He should be alright once he comes up to scratch."

"Is it you?" Jasmine asked, going for broke. He was the only rumored drug lord she could ask. "Are you the one he's running from?"

He looked down his nose at her in amused condescension but gave no reply. In the strained silence, she could hear the drizzle outside turning into heavy rain, beating down on the windows.

"Tell me something, Jasmine," McComb requested at length. "What's Ted got on you? Why're you letting him off the hook like this?"

"I told you already, I love him-"

"And that translates into leeway? He can get away with anything?"

"I- of course not anything-"

"Well, where do you draw the line?" McComb asked with quiet persistence, stepping closer to her. Jasmine wanted to feel suffocated by his nearness, would have if he were any other man, but her pulse accelerated at being so close to him again.

"I never thought about it." she succeeded in keeping her tone even. He paused, as though weighing what he would say next.

"Let's say," his voice dropped a few notes, reminding her that he could raise gooseflesh even with his hands in his pockets, "he finds you truly, genuinely fascinating... but is also seeing someone else, maybe even several someones. You think you could live with that?"

Jasmine met his thoughtful gaze directly. "He wouldn't ask me to."

McComb barked a scornful laugh. "Well, of course not, but let's say the boy had a pair, and now he was asking - what would you say?"

"It would change nothing," Jasmine stated, an adamant edge to her voice. "If you've found out Ted is in a relationship, I couldn't care less. Everything I've said about him still stands, so if you're trying to poison me against him, don't bother!"

He looked away, smiled and with a single nod of his head murmured, "Gotcha."

Unsettled by a sneaking suspicion that she'd missed something, Jasmine returned to the matter at hand and requested information on Ted's whereabouts.

"Yeah, you can't see him." He turned and headed for the crystal decanter and didn't see the shock on her features. "No?" she asked after a second.

"No."

"Because you said so?"

"Me?" McComb shot her a bewildered look over his shoulder then went back to pouring himself a drink. "No! It's your boyfriend who says he doesn't wanna see you." His voice took a sneering tone. "I hate it when fuckable blondes are supportive of me too."

Jasmine felt as if she'd just been shot. It had been him today on the street earlier. It had been Ted, and he had recognized her. Then he had stalked away as if they were strangers. Her breathing hurt her chest and it was awhile before she could talk. "Tell me where he is," she said in a faint, thready voice.

"Jasmine," he began, his tone freighted with weary disgust. He turned around then went silent when he saw her.

"Take me to him, I've got to see him." The tears spilled over, blinding her and she stepped away from the soapstone piece in case she knocked it over. "I never meant... I can explain..."

With a curt oath, McComb walked over to her and, against her will, gathered her in his arms. The last thing Jasmine wanted was physical contact with him, no matter how innocent.

Yet at the same time, she craved comfort of some kind. This was the one person who knew everything about this horrible situation and wasn't disgusted by the sight of her. If she turned away from him, where would she go?

Her mother loved her, but was easily overwhelmed. Jasmine didn't confide in her anything more serious than a wardrobe crisis, knowing well the high anxiety that would follow. As for her father, Jasmine had never met him. All her friends knew of her life was the cheery fluff she posted on Facebook.

She'd never dreamed anyone outside of her could survive her unhappiness, could in fact invite her to express it. McComb was doing so now. She never reached out, it scarcely occurred to her to do so but she didn't need to; he was already offering her his strength to lean on. And in her weakness, she couldn't help but accept. Relaxing her rigid body into his, Jasmine hid her face in his chest and cried her ribs sore.

McComb held her, murmured into her hair but it seemed ages before she calmed down again. Then she just stood wiping her cheek on his sodden shirt with an occasional sniffle.

"Better?" he asked, and Jasmine smiled at how his chest rumbled when he spoke. She nodded but didn't move. Her arms remained around his waist, fistfuls of his shirt caught in her hands.

"Jasmine, forget that little punk. Shit, y'all ain't even friends if he can do you like that. And you think you're a couple?"

Her smile disappeared. "Don't. Please don't," she implored, her words muffled against his shirt. Between her arms, she felt his deep sigh then the vibration of his lowered voice.

"Look, you wanna see him that much, I'll write out the address and give it to you now. Just say the word."

McComb eased back and bent her a serious look. "But I'm not gonna take you, Jasmine. If you're so dead set on it, you'll have to go after him on your own, in the driving rain," he said, stroking her cheek. "It's a hell of a romantic gesture. But he's the love of your life - he's definitely out there waiting with open arms, right?"

Her eyes wandered from his face down to the embroidered jockey on the breast of his shirt, her mouth opening without producing a sound. What could she say? She felt overwhelmed beyond all reason.

"Yeah," Jasmine whispered after a long moment, turning her head toward the exit. Even as she spoke, she had to wonder what was waiting for her beyond the door. Who?

McComb reached down and took her hand in his. "Come with me, baby." Once again, the warm note of intimacy rendered his voice an innuendo unto itself. "Let's go upstairs and relax a little bit."

Jasmine had an idea of what the appropriate responses were: a polite no, or even an uproarious rebellion. She gave neither. Without a word, she followed him out of the living room, up the stairs into the darkened privacy of his bedroom.

Once inside, McComb shut the door behind them. In the daytime, his bedroom remained dusky; the wine-red drapes were only half opened. With some surprise, she noted that his bed was made. No trace of his ridiculously hot mistress could be seen, but a faint trace of cloying perfume lingered in the air.

Jasmine made a small sound of surprise when he mashed her mouth to his. Then she closed her eyes and parted her lips. They kissed for a long time, reacquainting her with his wicked skill in that department. She gave a husky moan and he held her closer.

"This," McComb murmured against her lips, "is why I sent for you."

"What?" Jasmine was barely able to recognize her own husky voice. She drew back and looked at him with a frown.

"I missed you. And Ted was just the excuse you needed to come here. Admit it if you want me to give it to you again tonight."

"I admit nothing." She paused to nibble his bottom lip. "And in retaliation, you refuse to drown me in pleasure? I thought a man like you could do much worse."

He paid her goading no attention. His voice composed, he went on, "Then when we're done, we're going to have a little pillow talk. You'll answer every question I ask you, tell me everything I wanna know. Got that?"

"Whatever you say, sir," Jasmine simpered waspishly, fluttering her lashes at him.

He wasn't smiling. "Reggie," he corrected, an implacable note in the single word.

She touched her tongue to her lips, felt a sudden need to clear her throat. "Reggie," repeated in a quieter voice, her gaze lowering to his chest. With a satisfied remark, he pulled her close and kissed her again. Deep, drugging kisses that swept away all reason, annihilated all resistance.




Reggie's Girl Ch. 02



It was clear as day what he'd brought her up here for; it was not unwillingness that made her hesitate when he pulled back and told her to take off her clothes.

It was a bit daunting to strip in front of him in daylight, especially when he made no move to take off his own clothes. But Jasmine did as she was told, and he watched as every garment fell off her body to the floor.

Reggie moved closer when she was done. His eyes roaming over her, he let his hands brush the tops of her thighs.

"Stretch marks," she felt impelled to explain the marred skin there. The unsightly imperfection caused her no end of discomfort now that it was exposed to someone else. But if the blemishes bothered Reggie, he gave no sign.

"Sit down," he said.

Jasmine walked to the foot of the bed and sat. As he walked to her, his hands were busy unzipping his fly. When he got to her, he shoved his trousers and boxer briefs around his thighs then touched the back of her head.

Glad for the distraction, Jasmine eagerly took his half erect cock in her mouth, almost gagging as he hit the back of her throat faster than she anticipated.

"Easy, baby, just take your time," Reggie advised on a breathless laugh. He smirked as she nodded up at him. "Now, I want your best work. Go."

Taking the base of his dick in her hand, she squeezed gently each time she took the head in a slurping kiss. She kissed it numerous times, squeezing him all the while, before running her tongue down his slit, along the entire length of his thickening pole. She removed her hand and his cock stood unsupported, allowing her to lick it from tip to base then back again.

Jasmine gasped in surprised pleasure when she tasted the first trickles of his pre-cum. It was salty, yes, but there was another unidentifiable element to it that affected more than her tastebuds. It was as if everything that made Reggie so sexy had been distilled into this pure, clear essence.

It was at this point that Jasmine began to suck. Her eyes closed and she moaned in pure lust. It almost didn't matter whether he was enjoying her unsure ministrations; she needed to suck him off.

Her lips trembled around that fat rod, taking in just the head but it was so thick her mouth was already stretched wide open. Soon, that wasn't enough. There was too much of that tasty cock that she was missing out on.

A slight burn at the back of her throat warned her that she was taking a lot more cock than she could handle. She retreated then started again. It was frustrating that his size, which she was endeavoring to worship, was also her biggest obstacle. But she kept at it and with a murmured suggestion from him, she more or less mastered her gag reflex.

Then Jasmine found she could partially swallow the leaking head of his erection repeatedly. It was a novel sensation to her trachea, and he seemed to enjoy it so much that she did it till her throat was raw.

"Now the balls," he muttered. His potent but pleasing scent filled her nostrils as she filled her mouth with his heavy balls. They were big, lush things; it was tempting to play with their novel softness but instinct warned her to treat them with care.

Jasmine sucked one smooth testicle for about a minute before moving on to the next one, enjoying the pliant jostling of his flesh in her mouth. Was that normal, enjoying fellatio almost as much as the man? She didn't know. Or rather, didn't care.

"I'm gonna blow my load," Reggie growled. She looked up into his eyes, so serious and glazed, and awaited his instruction. Twisting his fingers in her hair, he gave it. "I want you to swallow, you hear? I didn't fuck that throat open for nothing. You swallow every drop I give you."

Why was he being so forceful? Swallowing his load sounded like heaven. Jasmine didn't even bother to tell him so, just hurried to take his cock back into her mouth.

Christ, but she loved the way he cursed while she sucked. It was as close to helpless as she could expect him to sound, and Jasmine loved the sense of power over him. She moaned, and he muttered something blasphemous. What he did to her! If he didn't come in the next ten seconds, she would!

She hadn't finished the thought when a startling gush from his dick filled her mouth. She hurried to swallow, the next one barely catching her prepared. Reggie emitted a long, low snarl of one under enormous strain. Her mouth filled up fast, and despite her best efforts, his thick semen leaked out of the sides of her mouth.

When Jasmine felt herself on the brink of suffocating, he stopped spurting at last. Her mouth was filled with the sticky globs of his come, which she tried to swallow in one go, coughing and sputtering a little when she narrowly succeeded.

Her air passages now clear, she threw herself back on the bed and took big, much-needed breaths. At the same time, her hand went between her legs to her flooded channel. The coating of lubrication on her pussy walls was so thick, her finger skidded as she tried to fuck herself with it.

Jasmine jammed in two more fingers before enlisting her other hand to manipulate her erect clit. The more the pleasure mounted, the tighter she squeezed her eyes and clenched her teeth.

The shrill moans filling her ears shocked her; was it she making that racket? She sounded like a porn star, one in the middle of childbirth, at that!

In the next instant, the next brush of her fingers over her clit, she lost it. The orgasm she'd been chasing turned around at the last second and consumed her whole. Sheer delight inundated her being with intense electric pulses and the culminating overload blew her fuse.

When next Jasmine opened her eyes, she was uncertain of how long she'd been out, but it couldn't have been long. Her breathing was still far from even. Also, Reggie had not finished disrobing. He smiled when he saw her open her eyes.

"That was some performance," he praised in hearty appreciation as he whipped his shirt over his head. "The blowjob was okay, too."

Jasmine gave a silent snort. She was of two minds about whether to stay. If he hadn't been taking off his clothes, she might have left immediately but now, well, it seemed obvious that he wanted her to stay. And it was nice to be wanted, even like this.

"Such an innocent-looking girl," Reggie scolded in sly tones.

"I don't know where that came from," Jasmine insisted. "I'm pretty disconnected from my body, my head's too much in the way." It had been ages since she'd given up the chafing flatline that was masturbation. And yet...

"You just made yourself come in no time flat." Reggie came to lay beside her on the bed, now as naked as she.

"Well, I never had an audience before," she replied, letting her eyes peruse his impressive body, a lovely toasted brown all over. His thighs sported a lighter caramel shade but at no point was his skin as pale as hers. Stupidly obvious, but still fascinating to her.

Reggie said something she didn't catch and she dragged her gaze to his face. "Hm?"

He bent his head and gave each nipple a single wet kiss then leaned back and watched her writhe. "I said I'm here for you if you ever need an audience. Of course, my participation is also assured."

"Can I get it now?" Jasmine rubbed herself against his hard-on, letting its blunt tip part her curls and touch her clit. She didn't think she could stand to wait. "I- I admit it, I missed it."

"No shit." Smiling a little, he looked down to where she was humping against him. "Get us a condom, baby. Top drawer." He gestured to the left hand bedside drawers.

Jasmine sat up and moved across the wide bed to the drawer. Sure enough, there was a big packet therein and she whipped out one condom.

Reggie appeared behind her and took it out of her fingers. "Don't move," he ordered and she remained kneeling on the bed while he busied himself with the condom behind her.

Then he was kissing her cheek, her ear, the side of her neck as his arms came around her waist. Jasmine tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes with a sigh. Her breath halted when something thick and silky nudged at her delicate entrance.

"Jasmine, relax," Reggie chided gently. Jasmine discovered her nails digging into his thighs and did her best to withdraw them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Shut up. Don't even think, just let go."

"Okay."

"I'll make it good for you if you trust me." He kissed her temple. "It won't hurt like the last time, 'cause you're not a virgin anymore."

She half turned to him with a gasp. "I wasn't a v-"

"Shut it woman, I'm trying to be sensitive here!"

A fine eyebrow jerked up but she didn't say anything else. Affecting meek contrition, she nodded her head, facing ahead again to hide the wry twist of her lips. He began to penetrate her again and she willed herself not to tense up.

"Like that, baby, let it be easy," Reggie encouraged, his cock now inside her, pressing ever deeper. "That's it, breathe... breathe. Good girl. Now tell me how it feels."

He'd stopped and wasn't even all the way in but Jasmine could think of only one word to describe how she felt. "Full," she panted, leaning back against him. She closed her eyes and adjusted herself to the feeling.

"No!" She started when she felt his hands cover her hips, and she clapped her own hands over his. "Don't pull out."

"I won't," Reggie promised. He started moving, retreating and filling her up again, but he stayed mostly inside her. It was a wonderful feeling, having him invading every square millimeter of her space. She'd forgotten.

Her own hips began to stir as he went on nudging into her. Soon, they were moving together in perfect unison, effortless, save for their labored breathing. Her hand came up and palmed his cheek. She turned her face to stare at him in dazed distraction.

Past wondering at his tender regard of her body, Jasmine just felt an all-consuming gratitude for it. The last time, the headboard had rocked and crashed against the wall in time with his exertion. He seemed determined not to cause her any pain today, even insisting on a position that limited how deeply he penetrated her.

"Play with your clit, hun," Reggie whispered urgently in her ear. "Show me how much you're enjoying yourself."

Jasmine did as he asked, rubbing herself up and down again while he fucked her from behind. He felt impossibly good inside her. "I'm gonna come," she gasped.

"I want you to," he replied.

"Oh... Oh yeah." With a muted shriek, Jasmine pressed her head back against his shoulder and came long and hard. Reggie gently held her while she recovered. He was still hard within her but was now immobile.

"What'd I tell you?" Quiet satisfaction laced his voice. "Did I lie? Was it hell like the last time?"

Her breathing was somewhat even now, but Jasmine just nodded, by no means certain her words would be coherent. Then after a long pause, she added, "It was good for me the last time, too. Promise."

She looked down at the brown hands coming up to cup her breasts. "Oh, I know that. But it's one thing to know you broke your woman's back good, and another to touch her and see blood on your fingers."

Jasmine could detect no hint of accusation or mockery in his tone. All the same, she felt the tide of blushing heat rising to the very tips of her ears. "I was fine. I'm fine. I... don't- didn't mind..."

Reggie chuckled at her bewildered shrug and kissed her shoulder. "Get on all fours."

She liked the sound of that. The feel of it, even more, but later she started to wonder if she could keep up with him. He'd stroked two- sweetmotherofGod now three orgasms out of her in this position and Jasmine was now slumped face-down into the pillow, her ass high in the air as he continued to drill her.

She was starting to get that feeling again, that she was turning into a mindless orgasm machine, and he was purposely trying to wring as many climaxes out of her as possible. Like she was a one-armed bandit and he was a gambler with a bag full of quarters and the whole night to kill.

In the grip of her languor, Jasmine just let him hit her slot for as long as he wanted. By the time he withdrew his hands from her dangling tits, gripped her jolting hips and picked up the pace, she couldn't move.

Her ears pricked up, however, when Reggie moaned his pleasure. She loved to hear him come and for once she wasn't drowning him out. She rocked her hips back just once and heard his breath hiss between his teeth.

He hooked a hard arm across her thighs so she remained where she was, gloving him to the hilt. Then she felt his come churn out of his dick into the condom. She closed her eyes as her clit began to tingle again. It was just so sensual, bringing him to orgasm.

With a satisfied sigh, Reggie withdrew sooner than she'd have liked.

"Why don't you touch yourself some more? Get yourself off one last time, while I'm here to watch." He moved from behind her while she lowered her bottom and lay down beside her. HIs mouth brushed over hers.

"Uh-uh." Jasmine gave a little bit of tongue to the dry kiss.

"Well, what do you wanna do then?" He pushed her back on the mattress and rose above her. Without thinking, she grabbed his semi-erect dick and started to rub her clit with it. He lost all flaccidity in two seconds.

Jasmine closed her eyes and brought to mind in vivid detail the way it had felt when he'd come inside her. It was easy to do since he was making those same delicious sounds in his throat.

Reggie didn't seem to hold her selfishness against her; he rested his brow against hers as he let her use him. But when she looked up at him, his hawk-like eyes bore no trace of softness. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he threatened.

"Do it," Jasmine said submissively, releasing his throbbing rod as she spread herself for him.

She had to wait while Reggie got another condom. Once it was on, he surged into her in one smooth stroke, making her arch her back in ecstasy.

A half hour or so later, Jasmine was cooing wordlessly as she sprinkled thankful kisses over Reggie's jaw and throat. Satiation, well-earned and complete, settled over them, leaving them reluctant to move. She refused to unwrap her legs from his waist when he tried to withdraw, and he relented this time, staying inside her a little longer.

"Jasmine?"

"Mm?"

"Why'd you lie about Ted?"

Her lips paused under his ear. "I didn't lie," Jasmine said slowly.

"How many times did you come just now?"

The abrupt subject change left her already befuddled head spinning. "I think- several, I don't know."

"So I gave you tons of pleasure?"

"Yes."

Reggie drew a deep breath before he went on. "Is there something more I need to do, to get you to be straight with me?"

His voice was soft but there was a distinct change in the atmosphere nonetheless. "No, sir," Jasmine answered as a sudden chill passed over her languid body. She began to loosen her legs from around his waist.

"I've been nice to you from the start," he reminded her silkily as he got up on his forearms to look down at her.

Jasmine nodded her agreement. "And I appreciate it, I really do."

"Well, if that's the case, I won't stop any time soon then," Reggie said, pouncing immediately on her improvident phrasing. "We get along so well; I think we're going to have a beautiful friendship. That is, if you do your part."

"My part." She wondered what on earth that could mean, but with a sort of thrilled terror, she thought she could guess.

"I require complete honesty from everyone around me. You won't be the exception. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jasmine replied, wondering how she could increase the distance between their bodies. Short of pushing him away, it did not seem possible, and she was loath to do shove at him, lest he take offense.

"Tell me about your relationship with Ted." Reggie tipped up her chin and forced her to look into his beautiful, serious eyes.

"W-we've been friends since we were both freshmen at NYU. When I moved to my own place, I discovered we were neighbors as well. We became pretty much inseparable after that."

"Did he tell you what kind of work he was in?"

"I knew. I picked him up several times from his uncle's restaurant in Harlem, dirty apron and all. I teased him about getting the nepotism thing all wrong, but that's just what he stood for, the values he believes in. I always respected that about him."

Reggie inclined his head but there was a mocking curve to his lips. "He can do no wrong in your eyes," he mused, his gaze drifing down from her face to her pink-tipped breasts. His forefinger traced one coin-shaped areola until it puckered for him.

"That's true," Jasmine agreed evenly. His gaze rose to hers again.

"And yet we've all fallen short of the glory of God." His tone was broadly indulgent. His finger kept teasing her breast. "The streets beckon to every kid in Ted's shoes, and in the end he was not immune to the call. Maybe gang-banging didn't appeal to your principled little friend but there's always good money to be made slinging get-high. I'm sure he had only the best of intentions, of course, supplementing his income with some easy drug money."

"He wouldn't!" His tone incensed Jasmine, so much she forgot her trepidation. Her palms splayed against his chest and pushed. He pulled out of her body at last and sat back on his heels. His regard was as relaxed yet watchful as that of a leopard at rest.

"I know Ted-"

"And I know the debt he owes me, Jasmine. You realize I didn't go to see him that night on a courtesy call."

She glared at him in the brief silence then blurted out, "How much?"

Reggie lifted his eyebrows. "Are you proposing to pay me back yourself?"

"Just tell me the amount he owes you. You'll get it in full, that's all you need to know."

"Right. The direct appeal to my mercenary instincts is, of course, tempting," he drawled with an expression that conveyed something amazingly akin to distaste, "but I can't, and won't, allow it. For some reason, you compulsively throw yourself between Ted and what's coming to him, and I keep having to get you out of the way. That's gonna stop, girl, right quick if I have anything to say about it."

"I don't understand," Jasmine began, and sat up in the bed, her agitation making her unconscious of her nudity. "What does it matter where the money comes from? Everybody wins all the same. You'll get what you want, Ted will leave this sorry business behind him forever, and we can pick up our relationship where we left off."

"Who's 'we'?" Reggie queried softly.

Her cheeks blazed at the plain suggestion in his calm eyes. "Ted and me, of course," she gritted out.

Which clarification brought a shrinking distress in the pit of her stomach as she recalled how Ted had ignored her hours earlier. Did he really judge her so harshly for falling into McComb's lap? Would he never see her in the same light again, or did he think her nothing more than female trash now, irretrievably ruined?

"This is not about getting paid anymore, so the question of money doesn't arise anyhow," Reggie informed her. "It's simple: the best thing you can do for this kid is just mind your own business. That's what he'd want too if he cares about you at all."

"It's not about the money," Jasmine whispered hoarsely. Her hand crept up her throat as the blood drained from her face. "Oh my God, you're going to kill him."

A muscle flexed in his tensed jaw and his nostrils flared. "I'm not," he grated in immense aggravation. "But I just might, if it'll save me the trouble of making the reassurance again."

If Reggie did know where Ted was and had not done anything to him yet, it was possible that he truly had no intention of harming him. That was a comforting thought, but far from sufficient.

Abruptly swinging her legs over the side of his bed, Jasmine stood up and stalked to where her clothes lay scattered. "You said you'd give me the address," she told him over her shoulder. "I'm going to need it now."




Reggie's Girl Ch. 02



A taut silence stretched out between them while she dressed. She began to fear he would refuse when he broke his silence. "That won't be necessary," he said. "I'll take you."

Jasmine stopped and stared at him with a frown. "But I thought you wouldn't go yourself-"

"Get dressed," Reggie ordered as he likewise got off the bed. "We're leaving now."



Reggie's Girl Ch. 03



The place where Ted was holed up was, surprisingly, a vast improvement on his former lodgings. The apartment was in a cleaner, more spacious and better lit South Bronx building. Some generous relative must have decided to share their house.

They walked through a maze of stairs and airy corridors before Reggie stopped before a numbered door. Ignoring the doorbell, he rapped on the wood three times.

"Who is it?" a familiar voice called out in cautious tones.

"Open up," Reggie ordered.

That was all the identification that was needed apparently for the door swung open to reveal Ted, still in his well-worn red baseball cap. His tremendous relief was pathetic to behold, until his eyes lit on Jasmine. Then he turned an angry and confused glare on Reggie.

"You said you wouldn't bring her here!"

Reggie just shrugged. "She twisted my arm. You of all people should know how hard it is to say no to that face," he said lightly.

"Ted." Although it hurt to be received like this, she was still worried about Ted. Already, he had lost weight. "What is going on?"

"Nothing I can't handle," came the brusque reply. Ted's expression was shuttered and she had the uncomfortable feeling of facing a former friend, a hostile stranger.

"Do you know how scared your mother is right now? Your sister, your step-father, me? We're all worried sick about you, and you're fine?" Her arm swung in a gesture encompassing the pleasant building in general. "How did you get here anyway? Who's staying with you?"

"No one!"

"So you're alone? But who's paying for this place?"

"Nobody!"

"It's not you, that's for sure."

"Stay out of it, Jazz." It was just short of a warning.

Jasmine gave him an uncomprehending look. "I'm here," she said with soft deliberation, "because I needed to be with you. I thought you needed me, too."

Ted lifted both his hands and backed away from the door before turning and retreating into the living room. "I can't do this."

"Ted!"

"Not so loud, Jasmine," cautioned a quiet voice behind her. She ignored it and followed Ted into the apartment.

"Don't turn your back on me," Jasmine snarled, her anger sparked at last. "You have no idea what I've been through since you took off. And your poor mother- she fainted when the cops suggested checking the morgue yesterday-"

Ted stopped abruptly and swung round to face her. "You think I don't know she's going through hell right now?" he lashed out. His voice rising and his face contorted, he was unrecognizable in his anger. "You think you care about my goddamn mama more than me? And who the hell do you think you are anyway?!"

"I know who I am," Jasmine informed him coldly. "Can I say the same for you?"

His face was twisted in a mixture of pain and rage so potent he was speechless for a second. Then he looked over her shoulder and shouted, "You said she wouldn't come here! You said it! If you can't stick to that, who else you gonna bring over here? Huh? I'm not some goddamn animal in a zoo, man, I'm not here for your entertainment."

Ted was so done with her that he wouldn't even talk to her anymore. He was talking past her as if she did not exist. It was beyond bearing. Without another word, Jasmine turned around and headed to the door. She noticed Reggie, waiting and forgotten, just outside the threshhold. She swept past him without a word.

She managed to lose herself in the maze-like corridors and endless stairs. Her thoughts were so scattered, however, and her need to keep moving so great, she didn't stop to ask anyone around for directions. It was only when a calm commanding voice uttered her name from some distance behind her that she stopped.

Reggie caught up with her with unhurried strides. Jasmine turned to face him and waited.

"Where are you going?"

It was a simple enough question, spoken in neutral curiosity. Yet her mind was blank, unable to compute for a moment. "Where else?" she rasped. "Home."

A light frown touched his brow. "Why don't we go get your car first? It's been done for ages, in fact Trey's started souping it up for his boy in case you don't want it anymore."

"I don't." Her reply was laconic. Apathy dulled the jewel-brightness of her eyes.

Reggie watched her closely before he inclined his head and agreed, "Of course not. But in case you change your mind and my nephew winds up a convicted car thief, can we just go and get it now?"

"Some other time," Jasmine said blithely. She couldn't bring herself to feel anything for her car. Or much of anything else for that matter. She took one step forward then stopped and thrust a frustrated hand through her hair. "Is this the way out? I don't know if I'm going in the right direction."

"Mm hm," Reggie agreed with mild sarcasm. "Might as well keep going, we'll get there."

When they reached the curb where his black car stood waiting, he turned to her. "I don't suppose you're willing to give me your address and let me take you home?"

"That isn't necessary," Jasmine said quickly. The refusal brought back a brief flicker of animation to her face. "Just go without me, I'll be fine."

Reggie was already halfway into the car. "Take care of yourself Ms. Fleet," he said and without another glance at her swung the door shut. He had entertained Lucia as well as herself that same afternoon; he, of course, had no further need of her.

Tiny maneuvered the car away from where she stood. She watched with remote attention until it was a mere speck in the distance.

Jasmine had no idea what she was supposed to feel. They had said their final goodbye and she was as indifferent to the fact as Reggie. Perhaps more so. She felt absolutely nothing.

* * *

The best part of working from home was the relative silence of the building in midmorning. It was conducive to the kind of focus that got Jasmine on a roll.

Not today, however.

Try as she might, she just couldn't ignore the clamor right outside her door. She'd determined the sounds were innocuous almost immediately and not, say, prelude to a break-in. Nevertheless, the din shredded her concentration.

Abandoning her laptop on the coffee table, she went to open the door to see what was going on. The previously empty apartment across from hers had its door ajar, an overstuffed dark green couch wedged half in, obviously stuck.

A girl with lovely red hair was pushing with all her might, first using her hands then turning to apply her back to the task. The couch didn't budge, but the fight seemed to go out of her anyway when she saw Jasmine.

"Hi," she panted with a weary smile, sliding down to sit on the floor.

"Hi." Jasmine cast a dubious eye on the uncooperative sofa. "You're braver than I was. I asked for backup before trying to get mine in."

The new girl made a wry face. "My friends promised they'd help," she panted, "soon as they got off work, but..."

She gestured at her surroundings. "In this neighbourhood? Moving in at night probably isn't the best idea, know what I mean?"

"Actually," Jasmine drawled, keeping her tone super casual, "you'd probably have been alright; the shootouts all seemed to have happened earlier in the week, so these right now are the halcyon days."

"Super!" The redhead drew herself up with a grin, dusted her palms on her jeans and thrust out a hand. "Bailey."

"Jasmine." Smiling, they shook hands.

"So my pride is officially broken after, like, ten hours of trying to get this thing in," Bailey lamented, her large blue eyes going into puppy dog-mode. "Help me?"

"Right, sure," Jasmine agreed with a nod. "Let's try this from another angle."

Ten minutes later, they sat sharing marshmallows on the hallway floor, gabbing as they leaned on the couch still defiantly sticking half out of the door. Bailey, who seemed to favor frankness over pretension, spoke of the imprudent financial decisions she'd made and her parents' decision not to cushion her from the consequences this time.

She'd been able to roll with it so far, being of an adventurous spirit, but sometimes she missed being able to shop herself silly without worrying about things like bills or rent. The fact that she was actually paying for it out of her own pocket wasn't the only thing that disconcerted her about her new address.

"Seriously, though, you're the first white person I've seen all day," Bailey confided in a stage whisper. "How messed up is it that I'm relieved to find you?"

"I wish I was cool enough to judge you for that," Jasmine chuckled at her earnest but somewhat comical anxiety. "I really do. But the truth is, I'm kinda relieved too. Scratch that, I'm plenty relieved."

"Aww." Bailey reached out and clasped Jasmine's hand for a moment before adding, "Typical lousy cracker."

Jasmine burst out laughing. "You rely on us c-words for relief, so watch it!"

"You watch it, before you make me drop the real c-bomb!"

A bored voice sliced through their giggles, alerting them of a new presence. "I'd stick to cowboys and Indians, ladies, at least in this neck of the woods."

Both girls turned their heads toward the stairs, their laughter fast drying up. "Oh my God, it wasn't even like that," Bailey wailed. "It was sooo innocent, I swear."

"Relax, baby. These things are never not innocent, everybody knows tha- Jasmine?"

Reggie McComb stopped at the top of the stairs, his crooked grin fading in his surprise.

"Oh, thank God," Jasmine groaned in relief. "It's you, I thought you were-"

"What? A black man?"

She rolled her eyes as she got up, lending a hand to help up Bailey. "A different black man," she snapped.

His grin returned to its full dazzling glory. "Oh, I get it, I don't count 'cause I'm a black man you're slee-"

"Sir, this is Bailey, my new friend and neighbor," Jasmine interrupted, hot-faced.

"Wait, you live here now? Huh." Reggie took this in with puzzling absorption, then he was back to formalities, flashing a roguish smile. "Hey Bailey, Reggie McComb."

He came over to shake her hand.

"Hi," Bailey chirped, displaying none of the terror Jasmine had experienced at that introduction three weeks ago.

"You girls need help with that sofa?"

At that moment, Jasmine noticed the two men shadowing him. They came forward and went to work getting the couch through the door. It took them all of six seconds to do it, leaving the two women gaping.

"There you go. Now why don't you pretty little things run along and grab lunch," Reggie suggested, pulling a leather wallet out of his pocket. "On me."

Jasmine stared at him as he flipped his wallet open and riffled out several crisp bills. "Matterfact, throw in some mani-pedis as well. Get your hair did. No need for facials as far as I can see," he added, directing a wink at a rapturous Bailey.

"Gosh, thank you! Really! That is so nice of you," she gushed. She turned to Jasmine, bumping her in the ribs with her elbow. "Well? Say thanks to your awesome friend here."

Reggie extended the money to Jasmine and waited. It was not that the idea did not appeal. But she had a job she really needed to be getting back to. A splashy outing with a girl she clicked with just wasn't in the cards, super rare though the opportunity was.

"Look, you go, I'll-"

"By myself?" Bailey looked so crestfallen she hadn't the heart to go on.

"No, with Jasmine; she shouldn't be left by herself," Reggie said with a grave look at Bailey, giving her the money instead. "I'm counting on you, make sure she has a little fun today. As for me, I'll take her to Miami this weekend. I'm throwing a pool party and she's invited. You come too, Bailey."

"Yeah?" Bailey's eyes popped in her enthusiasm.

"Of course. Now go on, get outta here, both of y'all."

"Okay, I've got a deadline I can't afford to blow off," Jasmine protested. "I should be working right now."

"Which is why you're here, in the middle of the day," Reggie commented drily, turning to face her.

"Yeah," she returned, crossing her arms. "You?"

His eyebrows jumped up as if the question had caught him off guard, but his reply was ready enough. "Me? Oh, I'm just paying a little visit to my boy Ernie upstairs, that's all."

"Mr. Hollis?" He was an old, mentally disturbed man in the apartment directly above hers. Jasmine had run into him a few times on her way to or from her apartment, found him deeply terrifying. "What do you have to do with him? He's supposed to be unstable."

"Make no mistake, he's lucid enough when he has to be. But c'mon, this is some boring old man business, y'all don't wanna hear that. Go do some fun, young girl stuff."

"Trust me, we will," Bailey promised, almost giddy at the prospect. "Come on, Jasmine, let's go, I'm begging you."

Jasmine ignored the impatient tugging at her arm and attempted to look through Reggie to his true intentions. He returned her gaze with an innocent smile. "Or we can all sit down to tea and polite conversation at Ernie's," he offered.

An immediate shudder ruined her feigned composure. "No, thanks," she said swiftly, relenting. "We'll just get going, let me grab my coat."

Jasmine turned to open her door, then paused to give Reggie a serious look. "And about Miami-"

"We'll discuss it tonight, when I come over," he said, lowering his voice along with her.

He just smiled at her doubtful expression. "Have a nice time, girls."

They were dismissed.

* * *

It was a little past eight when Jasmine and Bailey dragged their bone-tired selves home. Spending an afternoon indulging in hedonistic excesses on someone else's dime had loosed them up a little too well.

There hadn't been much loosing up to do in the first place. They shared tastes in all the important stuff: comedians, clothes, proto-feminist literature (the Brontës over Austen, but of course) and underrated bands.

They came back but lingered in the hallway, chatting for about a half hour. Finally, the curly fries and bacon burgers staging a coup in Bailey's stomach forced them to say goodnight, the redhead first seeking an antacid then her bed.

Jasmine stepped into her apartment, but she couldn't imagine going to sleep. And the giant butterflies fluttering in her stomach meant that she couldn't concentrate on her precious project. The cause was obvious.

It was him, of course. Inviting himself to her place, breezily announcing he was coming over as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She had been convinced, when they last parted, that she would never see him again. He was back now as if he had never intended anything else.

And she... she was excited, thrilling to the prospect of a visit from Reggie Cthulhu McComb, a man she should avoid like the plague.

She was being stupid, she told herself as she changed into the third dress in as many minutes. He wasn't her boyfriend.

But the intervening hours found her tidying up, reapplying her make-up, even making dinner. Two and a half hours later she sat arms folded on her couch telling herself she wasn't disappointed.

"Stupid stupid stupid," Jasmine heard herself mutter and right then in sudden vicious resolve, she sprung to her feet. She swept up her idle laptop and stormed off to her bedroom.

To hell with this! To hell with dinner, to hell with the world but most of all, to hell with-

An indistinct thump from above interrupted her angry crescendo. She stopped outside her bedroom door and glanced at the ceiling. A dragging noise followed, and possibly, a low moan?

Now, these were the kind of walls that amplified neighbors having loud sex. But Mr. Hollis? He was a gruff sort at best, with an unfortunate tendency to coprolalia sure to frighten off even the most hardened of prostitutes.

It couldn't have been a moan she'd heard... unless it was a moan of pain?

In a flash, Jasmine remembered Reggie's visit earlier today. He'd practically shooed she and Bailey out, pleading some boring business with the old man. Knowing Reggie McComb, that could only mean one thing.

She gasped when yet another thud emanated from upstairs. Should she go check on Mr. Hollis? The complete silence that dragged on for the next minute was eerie. What if he needed help? Lord, what if he needed an ambulance?

It was this last concern that broke through her immobility. Still, as she stood knocking on his door she castigated herself for being such a drama queen.

"What?" a brash voice yelled from inside.

"It's Jasmine, from 208." Crap, he was in robust health from the sounds of it. Now how was she going to explain herself?

The door jerked open and Mr. Hollis appeared behind his pot belly, his short, stocky frame filling the doorway.

"Yeah?" His eyes were as distrusting as always, but they somehow seemed clearer today. And the frenetic energy that usually swirled around his aura seemed diminished.

"I hate to bother you," Jasmine apologized, "but I thought I heard some noises-"

"You spying on me, girl?"

"No," she gasped. "God, no, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"If I'm alright? If I'm alright?" The elder gave a hoot that was embarrassing in its loudness. "Looka here, girl. I been livin' in this here building for as long as yo' skinny ass been alive. And you think you can take care of me? You think I need you to fix me a meal or wipe my damn ass?"

"What's all this?"

Mr. Hollis stepped out to scowl down at the landing where Reggie stood. Of course he would show up now! He looked like he was lapping up every bit of this delicious exchange from the look of his Cheshire Cat grin. "Is everything okay up here?"

"It won't be," Mr. Hollis blustered, "if someone don't get this sugar daddy-chasin', wannabe candy striper hoe off my doorstep."

Reggie could barely keep the laughter out of his voice as he beckoned to Jasmine. "Come on, Ernie, the girl thought she was doing good," he cajoled, putting an arm around her waist when she joined him, slim shoulders slumped in total defeat. "Now, how is she supposed to know you're a grown man who can take care of himself."

His grin widened at the ungrateful glare she gave him, then he turned back to Mr. Hollis and grew serious. "Eh, don't forget to take those pills on time, old man. You know there's a night-time dose, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mr. Hollis grumped before disappearing into his apartment and slamming the door shut.

"He's on medication." Jasmine gave him a pointed look as they descended the stairs. "Since when?"

"Since I dropped them off this morning," Reggie replied, smiling as he squeezed her waist in greeting.

"That's why you came to see him? To pass on his meds?"

"We also played checkers while his new carpet was being put in. Not that he liked it, apparently it clashed with the mud and sludge color scheme he's got going in the living room."

They stopped outside her door and Jasmine slipped out of his hold to block her door. He cocked his head to the side. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

Well, she was curious why he'd seemed surprised to learn she lived here. As though he'd thought he knew where she lived then realized he'd been mistaken. Jasmine didn't suppose it would do much good to confront him with her suspicions, however.

"No," she murmured, squaring her shoulders. "We've nothing left to discuss, now that I'm not going to Miami with you. In fact, you can leave now."

"Whoa, hold up. Seriously?" Reggie's widened eyes protested his innocence. "What did I do now?"

"Nothing, but I don't... you can't be coming over to see me again." She folded her arms. "You should stay away. It's what's best."

"For whom?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers. "Me?"

Jasmine stared at him. "You are the last person I'd do anything for."

"So this is about Ted. You're still hoping he'll take you back?"

Her gaze darted to the floor. "Let's not discuss Ted, alright?" she requested, her voice cracking.




Reggie's Girl Ch. 03



"Well, I know this ain't about you. You can't possibly be mad that I kept you waiting, no suh," Reggie goaded. "I can't even assume I'm why you got on that dress. Must be some other guy you're lookin' good for."

Jaw clenching, Jasmine fought her blush and stood her ground. Once he'd got the mandatory slut-shaming over with, he'd be on his way.

"And mark my words, 'good' is an understatement," he went on, his voice deepening to throbbing, near reverent tones.

"Got your hair down, make-up just right," he critiqued as his gaze roamed over her stunned features, then lowered to her form. "I noticed the new dress too, and please God, tell me my money bought that for you; turquoise, excellent choice. It brings out your amazing eyes like nothing else."

Reggie tipped up her chin with a black-gloved hand, assessing the color of her eyes with an intense air of discovery, as if he'd never quite noticed them before.

Which was bullshit, because the last time he'd been this close he'd stared into her eyes just like this. She'd been staring back. As she'd been fucking him back.

Jasmine lowered her eyelids before any tell-tale dilation of her pupils occurred. Undeterred, Reggie just leaned closer and turned his spell-casting to her ear.

"If I had a lick of sense, I'd be gone by now," he whispered, tickling her neck with his breath. "Because what's really killing me is the way you smell."

He slowly ran his nose down the side of her neck and Jasmine found herself relying more on the door at her back for support than her knees, which seemed to be dissolving under her.

"Like clean, pure skin, nice and warm from the sun rather than from the shower," he went on. "And maybe a little warmer than you'd like to admit, hm?"

To touch him now would be to cling to him. She mastered the urge to do so, splaying her hands against the wood of the door at her back.

"No perfume here," he murmured, pausing to have a leisurely taste of her throat. She swallowed a moan at the languid stroke of his tongue. "Fact is, when it comes to attracting with scent, your skin is a lot more effective than Chanel..."

Jasmine felt his very presence pressing down on her, caught the faintest whiff of his cologne as he leaned closer, his fingertips on her hips. "...particularly when that incredibly female body of yours is fertile. Like you are, tonight."

He so dominated her space yet he was barely touching her, his voice wasn't above a sleepy whisper.

"I could probably knock you up without even trying; I know that, and it's not like me to throw caution to the wind. But dammit, I feel like I got something to prove all of a sudden," Reggie said with a low laugh, "and that's a bad fuckin' sign right there. So why am I still here, hm?"

Because he was sorely tempted to have risky sex with her, or so he'd like her to believe. The idea shouldn't fascinate her, nor should the rather remarkable fact that he was right about this being her fertile period.

What kind of man brought up such a thing anyway? It was so outrageous how hung up he was on that, to the point of treating her like she was the last - ovulating - woman alive. Her lips twitched. What would he be like if she really had been?

An intriguing fantasy, one worth savoring.

"I made dinner." The words were abrupt, albeit whispered, held an eager undertone.

Reggie pulled back slightly and gave her a searching look.

"Seared beef with mushrooms," Jasmine babbled on in the unbearable silence. "Like we had in the restaurant the night we... it's stupid that I remember-"

"It's sweet," he corrected, with a pleased smile that had her all but swooning on the spot. "I'm really flattered, Jasmine."

Reggie tugged her into his arms and cupped the back of her head as he kissed her deeply. If she'd had any common sense left, it couldn't withstand this onslaught. Jasmine was dimly aware of reaching behind her and opening the door as they remained lip to lip, and of him walking her backwards into the apartment then kicking the door shut.

From there, her senses were either acutely heightened or totally compromised, for while such things as the aroma of olive oil from her cooking, the coolness of the air kissing her bared breasts and the loudness of their breathing registered in her brain, she couldn't explain how they ended up in her bedroom or when they fell on her bed.

Something kept prodding her back and when she heard it produce a constricted metallic sound, she realized she was lying on her house keys. Or rather they were lying on her house keys, since he was on top of her. She pushed at his shoulders with a small moan, a bit upset to find he was still fully dressed.

Reggie finally released her mouth from their relentless kissing and frowned at her, heat making his eyes glitter in the dark. "Don't be changin' your mind now, baby," he whispered.

"No, sir," she assured him, arching her back. "It's my keys, they're under me."

He lifted himself off her then, and twisting her arm behind her, Jasmine grabbed the keys and hurled them to the wall. She ached to feel his heavy body on hers again but he now stood at the foot of her bed, undressing.

She followed his lead and whipped off the dress she only half wore, along with her panties.

"Someone got a haircut," Reggie remarked as he stared at the neat triangle of sunset curls on her pussy. He grinned at her and she felt her already hectic color heighten. She didn't want him to make anything of it so she quickly got on all fours, her nose at his crotch.

Reggie finished peeling off his shirt then unbuckled his belt.

"Get on the bed," he ordered.

"Spoilsport," Jasmine pouted. She'd wanted to suck him off but she lay back on the bed anyway, knees upraised and spread in invitation.

He stared at her gaping pussy as he took the rest of his clothes off. When he was buck naked, he got one knee on the bed and bent to blow over her overheated sex.

"I'll let you suck this dick all you want. Just come with me this weekend," Reggie invited through her moans.

Jasmine couldn't think. All she knew was that the tip of his tongue was doing a lively dance on her clit.

"Oh God," she groaned. She rose up on one elbow and watched him. Reggie gently closed his teeth around her erect, straining clit and pulled upwards like a mother cat picking up its kitten, pulled, pulled, then let go. The fleshy pearl snapped back down and the sight and sensation of it was a double lightning strike to her nerves.

With a small scream, Jasmine came as she watched, an involuntary jet of liquid from her pussy leaping in the air. The fallout landed on the bed around them and also on Reggie's face. He didn't seem to mind at all.

"I never did that before," she blurted out as he climbed on top of her.

"What?" he asked with a smirk.

"That." She ran her finger down the spatter of girl come on his cheek and popped it in her mouth. "Now lemme taste yours."

"Friday," Reggie promised.

"Tonight." Jasmine reached down between them and fondled his sac. "Don't you wanna come?"

"I wanna tap that ass," he murmured, moving his hips so his cock bumped her sex.

"Well, you can't!" She squirmed away from the intimate contact and fixed him with a stern stare. "And I already got my nut, so I don't need-"

"'Got your nut,'" he echoed, staring down at her, aghast. "Good God, girl, who taught you to talk like that?"

Jasmine would not be swayed. "You should've come in my mouth since you don't have a rubber. So now, unless you force me, we're not about to..." Her voice trailed off as he raised his fist over her face, opened his fingers, and sent a square foil packet tumbling across her nose.

"I should've known you always meant to use one," she accused, narrowing her eyes at him.

Reggie just gave a humorous snort as he got up on his knees and ripped the gold foil.

"It's not like you're giving me much of a choice, is it? I mean, when a girl starts using phrases as, ah, charming as the one you just let rip, a man like me has to take certain precautions. Now, it's nothing against you," he crooned into her hurt eyes. "Just a little rule I have, nothing personal."

With the condom rolled onto his thick dick, he mounted her once more, bracing his forearms on either side of her head.

"You're a jerk," Jasmine choked out. Because he'd just implied he had to worry for his health when they were together sexually. He had, hadn't he, when he knew very well he'd taken her virginity.

"I know, baby. Let me make it right."

She tried to maintain her disapproving mug as he slid into her with slow persistence. He stopped when he was at the hilt, then smiled down at her. His hips began to grind in a lazy, circular rhythm and she felt him open her up deep inside, stretching and filling her anew.

"Whooh!" she gasped.

Jasmine had never dreamed such pleasure could exist. It swept over her from head to toe, again and again, like the constant movement of waves in an ocean, until her whole body was awash in perspiration.

He was touching, it seemed, the very core of her being; just tiny brushes with that incredible organ of his but enough to bring a slight wince of pain-tinged ecstasy to her features.

"Yeah," Jasmine breathed, lifting her hips up for more.

Reggie wouldn't allow her erratic movements to get in the way of his gyrations and cupped her ass in his hands. She let him guide her so they flowed together, striving partners in this slow, carnal dance.

In the ancient way of bliss, her own pleasure was just as much his, and indeed, he demanded it of her, she purring her assent when he asked if she liked it.

Jasmine loved it, was loving it more with every passing second. Her nails dug deeper and deeper into his shoulders, her heavy-lidded eyes grew wilder as the storm approached its peak. An increasing paralysis took hold of her body, leaving her toes curled, her spine stiffened.

"I can't," Jasmine pleaded, feeling more helpless than she ever had in her life.

"You better," Reggie growled, and the infinite patience of his rhythm dissolved into a harder, jolting one. It was enough to send Jasmine hurtling overboard; her eyes closed as she surrendered her body to the rattling delight taking over.

He was pumping like a relentless battering ram now, more making war on her sex than making love. A new wave of tiny orgasms began deep inside her in response to this change. She was half certain she would die when they accumulated into yet another giant climax.

Jasmine whimpered and wrapped both arms and legs around him so she'd have a shot at surviving. Reggie buried his face in her throat, his movements now violently invasive. His breath steamed her skin.

She heard a woman's shameless, begging voice, getting higher in pitch then exploding in a scream when the orgasm suddenly hit. It found her unprepared and left her with a sense of utter chaos through her satisfaction, a triumph akin to surviving a hurricane that had blown away everything she had.

Her limbs still trembling, Jasmine relaxed her grip, lay back panting and waited for him to finish. Reggie kept at it for a little while longer then jammed his dick as far in her as it could go, releasing a breath that seared her cheek as he finally came as well. He shook with it then lay still over her, murmuring something unintelligible against her throat before kissing the moist column.

She was twitching so much she felt like an electronic device whose circuitry had gone haywire. Reggie, however, seemed just fine, smoothly sliding out of her and rising to his knees before consulting his big wristwatch.

"I gotta go," he muttered, looking around for his clothes.

"Go?!"

"That's what I said." He grinned, leaned over her again and stole a kiss. "What? Miss me already?"

She hated him! "I made dinner," Jasmine cried.

"I know. It smells delicious."

"It came out perfect. You mean you won't even taste it?"

"No. No, I'm sorry." Reggie gave her another brisk kiss then rolled off the bed.

Already regretting the strong plaintive note in her voice, Jasmine rolled onto her side and gave him her back. What had she expected? Of course he'd run out without so much as lighting a post-coital cigarette, that's just who he was.

"Sure, whatever," she mouthed.

Reggie didn't seem to have heard, but she heard every sound he made. She knew when he snapped off the condom - "Say, where's a trash can around here?" - when he left the room, when he came back and the precise moment when he was done dressing.

To Jasmine's surprise, however, he came back to sit on the bed behind her. He leaned over her and kissed her cheek. "I didn't know you'd gone and cooked for me, Jasmine. I ain't trying to slight you or anything; I can tell it's important to you that I eat your food," Reggie said, stroking her bare arm. "So feed me in Miami. I'd be happy to indulge you and you know it'd be the perfect rain check."

She made no reply.

"Tell you what, make the same thing you made tonight," he bargained. "Make the exact same seared beef, seasoned with pepper and garlic, mushrooms and steamed veggies on the side- right? What do you say, sweetheart, can you do that for me?"

Jasmine debated with herself a moment before allowng herself to turn around. She answered his smile with a look of frank suspicion.

"Why?" she asked.

"Didn't I say we'd be the best of friends?"

"You didn't mean that."

"Oh, I did," Reggie assured her. He leaned over her as she lay frowning up at him, his brown-gold eyes glowing with intent. "Go on, admit it. You find it honorable that I won't disappear after taking your virginity."

"Yes, commendable," Jasmine derided.

"Because the word 'honorable' should never be used in connection with me. I do see." His lopsided smile was self-deprecating. "And now that we've split that all-important hair, can we agree to be friends now? Close, intimate friends, friends who sometimes go away together?"

"Why would I?" Jasmine let her own mouth curve in mockery. "Because of some superstitious attachment to you as the destroyer of my hymen?"

Reggie took her arm and pulled her up until she sat on her heels. Then he leaned in and teased her lips apart with a few moist kisses. He took his time before he spoke again and their tongue play was getting her dizzy when he paused to whisper, "I heard you're lookin' for a sugar daddy."

"Oh-" Jasmine pushed him away, fury lending her added strength. Reggie chortled and caught her to him again, flattening her naked breasts against the gray wool of his coat. He lowered his head and kissed her until she was weak then released her quivering lips.

"Now ask me why."

He set her firmly back and got to his feet again. His abrupt withdrawal left her strangely resentful even though she'd just been pushing him away. He was far from satisfied, that much he had made clear; it was some consolation. The problem was that now, she realized she had not had her fill of him yet either.

"Must be some very profitable business calling you away," she speculated unevenly. "Or is it pleasure?"

Reggie laughed under his breath as he reached into his pants pocket. "You need to keep your mind out my business, girl. This should help."

He tossed something which struck her shoulder and fell to her lap. Jasmine saw that it was a wad of hundred dollar bills bunched together with a rubber band.

"What is this?" she asked anyway, regarding the money as though it were a grenade.

"You bought a new dress for tonight, right? Made me dinner? And that bikini wax doesn't look like it was done at home-"

"This more than covers the dinner and clothes which in any case, I never paid for," Jasmine hastily pointed out. "You gave me the money for them this morning, don't you remember?"

Reggie shrugged. "There won't always be time to cuddle when we fuck, let it make up for that too - cold comfort, I know. Which brings me back to Miami..."

His smile was full of promise as he pulled on his gloves. "We'll stay in bed all day if you like. Or I could show you and Bailey some sights. Catch a game, maybe get you an autographed basketball."

"I'm happy to just stay here and shoot some pool," Jasmine argued, though she thought the paper might pay something substantial for photos of a major basketball game. She was sick of covering sports, but maybe a big game like that would whet her enthusiasm.

"I've got a pool table in my den, we'll play soon as we land."

Jasmine swung her head to stare at him. "You own your own pool table?"

"That's right."

She shook her head slightly and looked away. But of course he would; he was rich, on top of all his other flaws.

"Chances are, sir, your skills aren't on my level." Jasmine eyed his reaction as she dispensed with all false modesty. "See, it probably wouldn't be much fun for you if we played."

"Are you challenging me?" Reggie asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm discouraging you," she replied, unmoved. "Are you any good?"

"You'll find out."

He didn't sound all that sure of himself. "I'm not gonna let you win, you know," Jasmine warned, a pitying smile curving her lips.

"You're on." It seemed no trash talk was forthcoming. He was being cautious, she decided, but his quiet confidence almost gave her doubts. About the depth of his ineptitude, that is, not her ability to kick his ass to the adjoining star system.

Reggie looked at his watch again, pursed his lips then bent to brush his mouth over her cheek.

"Friday around 3, Tiny'll pick you girls up."

"Righto," Jasmine said on a sigh.

"Bring a swimsuit by the way," Reggie added as he strode to the bedroom door. "Two-piece."

Jasmine stared after his departing back until he was out of sight. She heard the front door open then close. Irritation mingling with amusement on her face, she rolled her eyes and threw herself back on the bed.



Reggie's Girl Ch. 04



"Jasmine, sweetie, you might want to scrub your feet before putting them up," Billie Wells said, a concerned eye on her lounging daughter's feet, perched on the faded lilac fabric of the armrest. "That's the couch Augusta Bennington gave to me."

Jasmine moved to put her feet on the floor and the older woman's expression brightened as she went on, "Did I ever tell you how that came about? It's such a funny thing. You'd never expect it of Augusta, but there is nothing hoity-toity about her at all. She was all smiles when we met at Justine's gala last month, perfectly gracious, you'd swear she didn't know she had a thirty-seven karat sapphire on her finger..."

Her mother's comfortable chatter was always soothing to listen to. Jasmine had heard her girlfriends groan about their mothers subjecting them to nonstop prattle but unlike them, she had never found the inanity of it irritating. Rather, she had always taken it as a sign all was indeed well if even Billie Wells' ultra-delicate nerves were this relaxed.

The illusion of peace was never more necessary than now to Jasmine. It was jarred, almost shattered by the sudden vibrating of her phone in her jeans pocket.

"What, again?" her mother interrupted herself with a slight frown, eyeing the buzzing bulge at Jasmine's hip. "Are you sure it's not important, dear? I know you keep saying that it isn't-"

"It isn't," Jasmine affirmed with a wry smile. She was all but positive that it was Bailey again, texting the name of some famous attraction in Miami. She took out her phone and checked - of course it was. "Trust me, it's nothing."

"Alright honey, if you say so... Well! Ilona insisted it was nothing but condescension, refused in a fit of histrionics to accept what she called insulting charity, but I said..."

Jasmine nodded vigorously at her mother's words while she tapped out a reply to Bailey.

"Can't wait!"

Then she switched off her phone and gave her mother her full smiling attention. After a minute or so, her mother trailed off then gave a tinkling little laugh, raising a hand to her cheek. "Goodness, what am I thinking of? This must be the last thing you want to hear."

"That's not true," Jasmine protested in all sincerity.

But Billie Wells just shook her head. "No. Let's talk about you, dear. You know, sometimes I feel like we've hardly met. You never discuss yourself. Tell me what's going on in your life right now, even if it's just your plans for the weekend."

"I don't have any plans."

"Oh, for God's sake-"

"It's true! Actually, I was wondering if I could crash here for the weekend."

Her mother looked at her for a long time without comment, her brow knitting in consternation. "You... you're not about to get evicted-"

"No! Mom, come on."

The older woman could not hide her relief. "Well, then, of course you're welcome to spend the weekend, I'd love that. We don't get nearly enough time together, do we? But first, shall I make us some more lemonade?" She stood up and went to get it from the kitchen.

Jasmine began to answer before her phone started buzzing again. She pulled it out with a sigh and answered.

"Hello? Bailey, honey, I'm really excited about our trip tomorrow but could you not-"

"Hey Jasmine," came the quiet interruption.

She stilled then sat up very straight. "Ted?" she whispered, only half believing it was him. There was none of the acrimony of their last meeting in his voice.

"Jasmine." Suddenly, his voice sounded deep and passionate. "God, I've missed you, baby girl."

"I've missed you too." His pet name for her, almost forgotten now, brought the rise of foolish tears to her eyes. She was still "baby girl" after all. "Where are you? When can I see you?"

"It's not safe for you to be around me, Jazz, you know that."

"I don't know why."

"And you don't need to."

"Of course I do," Jasmine said simply. She didn't have to say anything else. She heard Ted release a hard sigh, then answer with obvious difficulty.

"I'm sorry, but it's better this way. I shouldn't even be calling you, it's just... well, I had a weak moment."

"I'm coming to see you," Jasmine announced, already rising to her feet.

"Dammit no! Jasmine, this ain't something you can just barge into and fix for me."

"Someone's got to!"

"Yeah," Ted agreed at once, "and that someone's not you, it's Reggie McComb. He's been doing just that, and I like it a lot better that he's the one exposed to the risks, not you."

"Reggie McComb," she repeated soundlessly with her eyes closed. She had known Reggie was involved in this mysterious business from the start, had come to surmise that he wasn't exactly the villain of the piece either. She was not quite surprised at Ted's admission but just the mention of the man's name overwhelmed her with a nameless emotion.

"...Jasmine?"

Her eyes snapped open again. "I'm here. I just... why didn't you just let me know-"

"That I was getting help from a known gangster, a no-good bastard who made his fortune selling drugs?" A dry laugh left him. "Just didn't seem like something to shout from the rooftops, nahmean?"

Boy, did she ever know the shame of getting into bed with Reggie McComb. "I need to see you," Jasmine stated in an abrupt change of subject. "If I have to come over there right now-"

She stopped midsentence as her mother was returning with a tray bearing a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. To leave now would be impossible without hurting her mother's feelings.

"Tell me what happened, Ted," Jasmine requested, keeping her voice low. "What is it that you did? You know you can tell me, you can tell me anything."

"Tomorrow," was all Ted said, resigned. "I'll tell you all you want to know tomorrow, but please, just leave it alone for now."

"Okay," she conceded, then her lips gave way to an irresistible smile. "God- It's so good to hear from you again, Ted-"

"Oh, is that your friend Ted, from NYU?" Billie Wells enquired with a bright smile. At Jasmine's nod, she went on, "Tell him I said hi! It's been ages since he visited here last, I hope he's doing okay."

"He's good," Jasmine replied, then at a query on the other end, she said, "It's my mom, I'm spending the weekend with her at her place. She says to say hi."

"Tell her hi right back. I gotta go now, Jasmine, you gonna be alright?"

"Me?! Of course, I'm not the one in some kind of trouble..." Her voice trailed off.

"I'll tell you everything tomorrow," Ted reiterated firmly, if somewhat tiredly. "Take care of yourself, Jazz."

Before she could respond he had hung up. She stared at the phone for a while in silence. The relief spreading through her entire body felt like a healing balm. For the first time in weeks, it felt like her friendship with Ted may yet be salvaged. She savored the feeling all day.

It was inexplicable, then, that that night her thoughts strayed very far from Ted's brotherly companionship. Lying in her narrow bed, her sleep-drugged mind conjured fragmentary images of long, dark-skinned limbs twined with her own, not a stitch of clothing between them.

The stiffness of her nipples chafed against the cotton of her nightshirt. All of a sudden they were being soothed by wet, languid kisses followed by gentle suckling.

A blissful sigh escaped her lips. Her head turned back and forth on the pillow as she slowly shifted to lie on her back. Her knees drew up so her open thighs formed a welcoming cradle.

A familiar weight settled above her and pressed her down into the mattress, a heaviness her young body had learned to associate with the promise of earth-shattering pleasure.

How long had it been since she and her mate had lain thus? Too long, her fevered body insisted. He would have to nail her, right goddamn now! Her hips lifted off the mattress in a shameless display of impatience. She wanted, needed the impaling she was certain was coming, the solid heat sliding into her aching wetness, the joyous friction to follow.

Even in the dark, she could see his eyes, a smoldering brown speckled with gold, soulful with desire. He wanted her too, that was plain. So why, oh why was he holding back?

There was intense pressure between her thighs, an emptiness that throbbed with ever mounting intensity till she grit her teeth and moaned from the torture of it.

A tear slid down her left temple, another down her right, somehow escaping past her tightly shut eyelids. God, she was literally crying for him! Did he have no mercy? Did he mean to drive her completely out of her mind?

"Now." Her voice was little more than a whimper. "Reggie, please-"

The shock of hearing who her lips were begging for jolted Jasmine awake. Her eyes opened and all she saw was pitch-black air. No pair of predatory, hypnotic eyes holding her own captive. No hard waist between her knees and definitely no hope, none whatsoever of being made love to tonight. By Reggie. For who else would do?

She had thought she'd escaped him, thwarted his ridiculous plans to take her to Miami. But even in her dreams he made her his, with her wholehearted consent. He was under her skin, against her will, against all that was right.

A sob burst from her throat. She quickly rolled over to muffle the next one in her pillow.

Whether it was from bitterness at her body's betrayal or the acutest sexual disappointment, she could not sleep until the first gray light of dawn appeared in the curtains. Then she fell into the dreamless torpor of fatigue.

When Jasmine next awoke, it was late in the morning. After showering and nibbling half-heartedly at a bagel, she called back Bailey who had apparently spent the entire morning trying to reach her, judging from the number of missed calls she found.

"Yeah, I know, it sucks," Jasmine rasped, running a hand through her dishevelled hair, "but what can I do? My mom started talking about how we don't spend enough time together, she barely knows me anymore - I couldn't tell her to hold that thought till I came back from Miami with my awesome new friends who she's never met."

The sound Bailey produced from behind her clenched teeth was pure frustration. "Mothers! How do they keep doing this shit to us? It's not fair."

"I know. Trust me, I know," Jasmine commiserated.

"You know this means I have to stay too. I can't go without you, I don't know this guy-"

"Obviously."

"Who is he, by the way?" Bailey queried, her tone just a shade too casual. "Boyfriend?"

Jasmine drew a blank there and in the brief silence that ensued, the doorbell rang.

"Jasmine, do you mind getting that?" her mother called from her bedroom. "Ilona was supposed to drop off some stuff today. If it's her, just leave it in..."

"Friends with benefits?" Bailey probed.

"You've got a dirty mind," Jasmine chided as she left the kitchen and went to the front door.

"And you don't, Mother Superior? The man is an absolute fox, if you tell me you've never had one dirty thought about him, we'll have to figure out a penance for you - getting on your knees in front him might do for a start."

"Please, you've got it all wrong." Jasmine snorted, fumbling with the sticky door chain. "Reggie is nothing to me."

Bailey sucked in a dramatic breath. "Is that your final answer?"

"Spread the word."

Finally the door swung open and Jasmine was staring at a face that made her gasp as well. "Ted!"

Without thinking, she hurled herself into his arms, ignoring the squawks still emanating from her phone. Prepared for her, he caught her with ease.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry, baby girl. Please forgive me."

"No, please, don't apologize; there's nothing to forgive." She pulled back to look at his dear face, blurred by tears. "I'm just so glad to see you again. I thought I never would-"

"Jasmine." Ted yanked her back into his arms for a fierce hug.

"I thought you hated me. Because I-"

"Listen to me," Ted ordered, setting her at arm's length once more so he could look into her eyes. "I could never hate you. Never, you understand? I apologize for making you feel bad, but it was never you. I just feel so ashamed putting you through all this, I should've been there for you and I wasn't."

"Shh, stop." Jasmine placed her forefinger over his mouth. "It's alright, it all turned out fine. I wasn't hurt so don't blame yourself."

"But I-"

"Don't!" Conceding to the no-nonsense look on her face, Ted did not argue further but wrapped his hand round her finger and pressed a kiss to it. All at once, his expression was unreadable. She gave him a small, uncertain smile but didn't remove herself from his embrace.

"If you're gonna move in on my girl," a voice drawled with cool but unmistakable menace, "you might at least wait 'til I'm out of sight."

She started to look to their left but then Ted's arms tightened around her, bringing her breasts in light contact with his chest. She paused then, and sent him a questioning look.

"Seems to me, you're already out of mind," Ted replied without turning from her, his voice hardening. "So much for being your girl."

"She is if I say she is."

"Seems you don't realize she has a choice in the matter."

"And I don't think you realize, your triflin' ass ain't really a choice to her anymore."

"Said the dude she ain't even look at yet," Ted scoffed, lowering his face to the side of Jasmine's neck. His voice muffled, he continued. "We tryna have a moment here, if you don't mind. Go fetch the lady some tampons from the store or some shit, make yourself useful."

A single footstep scraped towards them. "You wanna repeat that without your human shield, junior?"

All of a sudden Jasmine was spitting mad. "Oh for God's sake, Reggie, get a grip," she snapped, turning to face him at last. Her lip curled in disgust. "Is this why you followed him here, to get into a stupid fight about who I belong to?"

"I didn't follow him here," Reggie replied with the quiet tones that denoted tremendous umbrage. "I brought him to see you." His gaze flicked to the back of Ted's head and narrowed as if trying to induce spontaneous combustion. "I didn't count on regretting it quite so soon, though."

Jasmine's concerned gaze flew back to Ted's face. "How come he's here too?" she whispered.

"He had to tag along, he's the one paying the bills right now." The irritation in Ted's hushed voice was clear but she still couldn't believe she had heard right.

"What?"

"He said," Reggie answered for him in loud, obnoxious tones, "that I'm the one feeding him, clothing him and putting a roof over his thieving ass. That about right, Teddy?"

"Hey, man, I never stole nothing," Ted stormed, turning to face Reggie at last.

"Sorry," Reggie sneered. "I meant your snitching ass."

At that moment, there was a sound at her back and without even turning, Jasmine sensed right away the nervous energy of her mother. She turned to face her with a brilliant smile.

"Mom, look who's here," she trilled. "It's Ted!"

"Yes. Yes, so I see. Speak of the devil, right?" Her mother bent a kindly smile on Ted then her wispy eyebrows rose as she appraised Reggie's tall, all-black attired form. "And this would be..."

"Reggie McComb, ma'am." He stepped forward flashing a sociable smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Jasmine's man."

"Oh! But I thought-" Billie Wells stopped and looked at her daughter, still wrapped in Ted's possessive hug then glanced back at Reggie with a rather brittle smile. "Of course. I suppose she was just about to tell me about you. Please, come on in."

Over Ted's shoulder, Jasmine blasted Reggie with her aquamarine eyes. He responded with a dark smile, but all the same refused the invitation in the politest of terms.

"I appreciate the invitation Ms. Wells, but much as I've been looking forward to meeting you, there's actually something I need to go take care of right now. I hate to leave like this but, ah..." He surveyed Jasmine and Ted, still locked in each other's arms. "I don't think I'll be missed too much."

The perplexed glance her mother sent her was shaded with disapproval, but Jasmine could not feel sorry for leaving her "boyfriend" high and dry.

"Buh-bye," she said, fluttering her fingers at Reggie. Then turning to Ted, "Are you hungry?" she asked, all concern. "I could whip something up in, like, five minutes, just say the word-"

"Well, I guess I could eat a sandwich before I go," Reggie piped up.

"Subway's right around the corner, Reggie, God!" Jasmine gave a small can-you-believe-this-guy? shake of her head then looked deeply into Ted's laughing eyes. "Come on," she said softly, reaching to take his hand in hers. "Let's go to my room."

"Can I bring you anything back, baby?" Reggie offered, then in the next breath answered wryly himself. "Never mind. I think I got it."

Billie Wells was a sensitive, decorous soul and it was deeply unfortunate, Jasmine thought, that she thought she saw in Reggie a kindred spirit. Rallying to his side, she reached for his wrist just as he was turning to descend the stairs. "Wait!"

Jasmine had never heard her sound so assertive before.

"I can't let you leave like this, Reggie," her mother went on with an apologetic smile. "I'd like to get to know you better, seeing as you're Jasmine's boyfriend and all."

Reggie gave her a somewhat bemused look. "Well, I guess we'll be meeting again sometime-"

"Good! Come on in, please!"

There was the barest hesitation on his part. Then he inclined his head and this time his smile was genuine. "I'd like that, Ms. Wells. Thank you."

This unexpected development might have troubled Jasmine, except that it signified Ted's return. She refused to let Reggie ruin their reunion, forgot him the instant Ted asked what was available to eat.

"I hope it's real food," he said with a feeble wince. "I've been eating so much junk I just might be radioactive now."

With a worried exclamation, Jasmine rushed him inside the living room, sat him down and proceeded to fix him a hot meal. He really had lost weight, she realized later as she massaged his shoulders. He'd always been of a rather slight build, but now he was just gaunt.

While her mother and Reggie sipped their coffee and made small talk, Jasmine ushered Ted into her bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to face her best friend as he sat on the foot of her bed.

"So what's going on?" she asked gravely. "And don't bother giving me the clean version. We can count on Reggie to give me the one that paints you in the worst light possible."

"Lord knows he'd enjoy every second of it," Ted muttered.

"Well?"

"I got into an altercation with this cat, he calls himself Krow," he began on a heavy sigh. "He comes to my uncle's restaurant a lot, so I kinda knew him. He runs a numbers racket, nothing major but... well, he's ambitious. About two months ago, I was coming off work and he gave me a ride home. On the way, he starts talking about how he's got a plan to rake in some real money. He said he'd been watching me, that I look like a focused guy and he wanted to offer me an opportunity."

"To do what?"

"He called it 'building an empire'. It boiled down to getting into the dope business. He said he'd found suppliers, and their shit was good enough to compete out here. He planned on starting small so there wasn't room for a lot of people at first. He wanted to start out with me as his right hand man."

"And what did you say?" Jasmine asked through the constriction of her throat.

"I said I didn't see how he could pull off a major operation like that; he's small potatoes, everybody knows that. He just laughed, said not to worry about money. Said he had a serious investor."

"Who?"

"Didn't say. Anyway, it was never gonna work. Where was he gonna sling this stuff? Around here is Reggie's turf, and crossing that dude would be suicide."

"So you refused?" Jasmine asked with such hope that Ted quelled a grimace.




Reggie's Girl Ch. 04



"No. And before you get all disappointed, Jazz," he added in an earnest rush, "there was a reason. Like I said, I knew this kid and, well... I guess I kinda grew fond of him 'cause I didn't want to see him go down that road. It's dangerous, and guys a lot sharper than Krow have ended up getting caught - or worse. So I didn't flat out turn him down. I just said he could holla at me when he had a solid plan. I was sure he'd never come up with one, and I was gonna keep poking holes in this scheme till he talked himself out of it."

Abandoning her defensive pose, Jasmine uncrossed her arms and went to sit down beside Ted. "But he didn't," she finished for him quietly.

"Ambitious as a motherfucker," he agreed with a rueful groan. He shook his head as his arm came round her shoulders. "Next thing I know, he's showing up at my door with a bag full of drugs, asking me when he can come for the dough."

"Oh God," Jasmine muttered, feeling sick.

"I tried telling him he was being hasty, careless, but he wasn't having none of that. Just wanted to know if I was in or out. I had to say I was out. He cursed me out and left. Two days later, he was arrested, charged with possession with intent to distribute. When he got out on bail, word went out that I'm a marked man for snitching. The last thing I'd do, ever, is snitch, and especially on Krow; I couldn't do that shit. But..."

His hopeless shrug said it all. It didn't matter what the truth was, only what Krow believed. He thought Ted was an informant and that was that. His chief concern now was silencing Ted before he could testify against him.

Jasmine sat with Ted in contemplative silence for a while. Then a thought came to her. "Where does Reggie fit into all this?" she asked in sudden puzzlement.

Her best friend's answer came in reluctant, even grumbling tones. "I don't know, he was saying some shit about knowing my father; how Reggie owes him a favor and now it's time to- I don't know." He broke off with a scowl and shook his head. Ted's father was serving a life sentence and he was almost a taboo subject.

"Is there any reason to doubt that story?"

Ted took on a distantly interested demeanor as if the matter was nothing whatsoever to do with him. "You know, I'm not even sure. It might be. God knows, my father hung out with some crooked types in his day."

"And he did something for Reggie..."

"I don't know." Ted withdrew his arm from around her and came to his feet. Jasmine did not press him further. She at least had answers for what mattered most at present.

"You want some pop?" She smiled up at him. "I feel a craving coming on."

Ted shook his head. "Girl, you know we agreed to give that shit up."

"And we will. Someday. Just not today." Jasmine stood up and strode to the door. "I'll just run to the store and get some. Feel free to hang out in here."

"Thanks, I think I'll do just that!" Neither of them relished sitting across Reggie and the mildly accusatory regard of her mother. As it was, Jasmine could barely look at her as she walked to the door and explained where she was going.

Once she was out on the sidewalk, she walked fast to keep warm. It was quite chilly and the overcast skies promised more of the same for the rest of the day. As she was leaving the store with the pop, a big raindrop splashed on her nose. With a groan, she broke into a jog.

People everywhere in the streets were running, which was why she did not pay attention to the sound of running feet behind her until it was too late.

A hard arm hooked round her ribs and all the air whooshed out of her lungs as Jasmine was hauled into a nearby alley. She was slammed against the wall and then her vision was filled with an ebony face, whose evil grin revealed the wide gap between the two upper front teeth.

"Well, look what we got here," the stranger leered in an alcohol-coarsened voice. "Ted's little snowbunny."

"Let me g-" She never saw the backhand, but felt it delivered with enough force to cut the inside of her cheek on her teeth.

"Oooh, even the likes of you shouldn't come out to play when it's raining, ain't that right, ghetto princess? Yeah, just like you shouldn't be spreading them for snitches!"

Jasmine heard the deadly click of a switchblade and screamed when the ice-cold metal touched the fragile skin of her throat. Immediately, a meaty hand clamped over her mouth.

"Keep your fuckin' mouth shut!"

Jasmine nodded frantically. Some part of her had the strange feeling that none of this was actually real, but another agonized part was counting all the imminent dangers the present boded. She knew this was no ordinary robber. He was almost certainly Krow, the man with a well-known vendetta against Ted. And now, by extension, herself too.

"You scared, little girl?" His eyes went round, mocking hers. "You should be. I been waiting a looong time to get my licks in, and since Ted and his family ain't around, then you'll do real nice. My oh my, yes you will indeed. Now let's go!"

Then right before her eyes, Krow's head received a violent blow to the side with what looked like a tire iron. His eyes grew heavy-lidded and his grin loosened.

"Must be outta your mind messing with her, motherfucker!"

The tire iron swung again but this time Krow anticipated it, ducking before it struck. The motion of the metal fanned Jasmine's face as it passed scant inches before her face and she pressed herself even tighter against the wall. Krow stumbled away from her then broke into a run.

The newcomer started to give chase till a silver car zoomed up at the other end of the alley and halted. Jasmine watched in dazed disbelief as Krow opened the door and staggered in, the vehicle then screeching off before the door was closed. The danger, it appeared, was gone but she didn't dare believe it.

"You alright, D?"

At the sound of Xavier's voice, Jasmine looked up at her rescuer. Her mouth opened and closed without a sound. She was distantly aware of weaving on her feet then Xavier suddenly leaned in and caught her by the arms.

"Whoa, it's alright, girl, you're safe. He won't be bothering you no more, trust me," he chuckled. "Here."

He bent and picked up the mud-coated bottle of pop from the ground and handed it to her. Her fingers gripped the plastic so hard, they went numb. "You get on out of here, before you get soaked."

It was too late, her hair was already wet and plastered to her skull. Jasmine remained where she stood, shaking her head as she stared down the opposite end of the alley where her attacker had gone. It had all happened so fast she couldn't get her bearings just yet. The rain pounded down on the pair, unheeded by each.

Xavier bent his tall frame to peer into her face. "What is it, D? You don't wanna be alone? Is that it, you want me to walk you there?"

Just ten minutes ago, she would have been extremely leery of such an offer from Xavier. That it was so very welcome now came as a shock to her usual self-reliant mentality, prompting the old trait's forceful reappearance.

"No, I'll be fine." Her gritty tone sounded ungracious, so she offered him a wobbly smile. "Really, it's nothing."

Her immediate concern was finding a way to comfort her mother, because if she walked in as she was now, she would just give her an anxiety attack.

"Yeah, I doubt Reggie'll see it that way," Xavier predicted darkly as he watched Jasmine arrange her wet hair over the cheek that still bore Krow's handprint. Then he shook his head and stepped aside. "Go on, D, I'll be right behind you."

Jasmine walked past him back to the sidewalk. The rain had eased to a light drizzle so she didn't bother running. It helped slow down her racing thoughts. She was even calm enough to laugh at the doorman's remarks at her bedraggled appearance.

When she walked into her mother's living room, she forestalled all questions by announcing that she needed a shower right away. She didn't even take off her soaked sneakers, just squished her way across her mother's ageing second-hand Axminster.

Jasmine ignored the dismayed protests, did not stop moving until she was locked behind the bathroom door. Then setting the pop on the floor, she stood there waiting.

For what, she wondered. The tears to come? But of course not. She had learned early in life the isolating dangers of emotionalism. She had trained herself to keep a lid on troubling sentiments all her life, lest she drive away those she loved. Not even violence had the power to change that now.

But then she turned around and saw herself in the bathroom mirror. Her gaze was drawn to the slight swelling that had begun at her cheek, and at that moment, she freaked. Because while it was one thing to feel like hell, it was quite another, and completely unacceptable, to show it.

And right now, she was starting to show. It would only get worse if the swelling continued.

For the next half hour, Jasmine let the icy water from the shower fall on her upturned cheek. Her teeth were chattering though she tried to keep her lips pressed together. The water snaked down her naked body, leaving her chilled to the bone. All over her were goosebumps puckered so tight, her very skin felt ill-fitting.

Oh well, it couldn't be helped. Her cheek had gone from hot to numb, and that was a good sign, surely. The swelling might even go all the way down if she kept at it.

She gasped when she heard a sudden rap on the door.

"Jasmine? Jasmine, honey, open up."

The knocking continued and she might have answered her if it had been her mother. But it was Reggie's calm voice.

"Jasmine. Don't make me come in there, girl. Open this door."

Of course, the barbarian would not leave her alone when she most desperately needed to be. She was sick to death of men like Reggie, men who just pushed her around without compunction, without fear of consequences. Who did they think they were?

In sudden blinding wrath, Jasmine reached for the rose-shaped cake of soap and hurled it at the door with a savage roar. The soap was flattened along the edge on impact before flipping through the air to the floor.

"Jasmine!"

This time, it was her mother's voice: the poor woman sounded mortified to the marrow.

"It's fine, Mom," Jasmine groaned, rage giving way to deathly exhaustion. "Just give me a minute, I'll be out in a minute."

She heard Reggie's lowered voice as he conferred with her mother. He must have talked her into letting him handle her because when she emerged wrapped in a towel, he alone was waiting for her.

"Hey baby," he said, coming to rub her bare arms. "How you feeling?" He paused and gave her visage a frowning assessment.

"Hot water run out, hun? Your lips are blue."

"Leave me alone, God..." Jasmine pleaded.

"Jesus, you're a block of ice," he complained as a shiver rattled her for the umpteenth time. "What the hell were you doing to yourself in there?"

Jasmine paused then went ahead and explained her actions, but try as she might he could not be made to understand her reasoning.

"Oh, come on-"

"No, she's the parent here. Let her take care of you, you're the one who needs it right now."

"What I need is for her to be okay," Jasmine argued. "Which she won't be if I go on an oversharing rant so she leaves a mom-shaped hole in the wall getting away from me!"

"Really, that's how it shakes out in this family? You get attacked and she's the one that needs coddling? Are you fuckin' serious?!"

"Keep your voice down," she hissed. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you, I should've known you wouldn't understand!"

She braced her hands against his chest and tried to push him away. He prevented it by holding on to her forearms.

"Okay, you win," Reggie conceded. "Let's get you into some warm clothes."

"What do you mean, 'let's'? I don't need your help!"

"Not really, seeing as I'm not a mental health professional," he agreed in irate tones, "but I could at least have stopped you giving yourself hypothermia if I'd been in that shower with you!"

"So I'm batshit loco, am I?" Jasmine snarled, narrowing her eyes.

"What you probably are, Jasmine," he growled, glaring back at her, "is traumatized." Unable to detect any sarcasm in his answer, she just stared at him without replying.

"That asshole put his hands on you," Reggie fumed, an uncharacteristic gruffness in his smooth voice. "That should never have happened, X should've been there sooner. Damn, you must feel like you need a ten-hour shower."

"That's not it, but... It was Krow," she blurted out, fixing him with a wild stare.

"I know."

"He said he wanted to hurt Ted, and- and his family-"

"Ted is just fine, and his family were relocated weeks ago. He's not gonna find them."

"He couldn't. So he came after me." The memory of the attack somehow was more shocking than the event had been at the time. Suddenly, she needed to tell him everything. "He held a knife to my neck. He hit me, then he said he'd use me to get back at Ted, and I thought he meant to rape me-"

"Listen," Reggie grated. "You're never gonna see that bastard again, and that's my word, Jasmine. Now just calm down-"

"I am calm," Jasmine whispered as she embraced him in a rush. "I'm alright, Reg, I promise."

A soft laugh shook him as he gathered her closer. "Get a load of you, trying to make me feel better."

"Is that what I'm doing?" she asked, sounding completely unconcerned if it was.

Reggie laughed again then pressed a kiss to her forehead. He rubbed his chin over the top of her head for a long time, which hypnotic motion did wonders for her tattered nerves.

"You know if Krow is coming after you," he mused at length, "he's probably got someone staking out your apartment, just waiting for you to come home."

"I can't do anything about that," she pointed out with a touch of irritation. Why did he have to ruin the moment? "I'll just carry on like always and hope like hell he doesn't know where I live."

"Come on now, there's no chance of that; you know this!"

"Then what happens, happens!"

"Dammit-" Reggie stopped himself, drew a deep breath then began again with deliberate composure. "Look, just go put on some clothes and come with me. We're leaving."

Jasmine's mind rebelled at once. "No! No, you are not taking me to Miami or anywhere el-" Her protests were cut short when he inclined his head and murmured in her ear.

"Your face is already showing the first signs of bruising." He paused to tap her damaged cheek. "This keeps up, you'll be unrecognizable by lunchtime. Now, how you gon' explain that to your mama, huh?"

"Oh thank goodness," came her mother's relieved voice a short distance away. "For a moment there, I thought you two were fighting."

"We just needed some space to talk things out, Ms. Wells," Reggie answered as he set Jasmine back at arm's length.

"So everything is fine?"

He looked at Jasmine, leaving her to answer. "Yeah, Mom, it is," she said softly, smiling at her mother.

"I'll be in the car, Jasmine," Reggie remarked, looking Jasmine right in the eye. "Send Ted down. We'll be waiting for you."

He seemed to be daring her to contradict him, no great difficulty for Jasmine. "I will do no such thing," she stated, crossing her arms. "I am spending the weekend with my mom, right here in New-"

"Stop. Just-" Ms. Wells lifted a hand as she interrupted. On her face was an expression of supreme distaste, like she'd bitten a lemon. "I'm sorry, but we need to... Could you excuse us a moment, Reggie?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

Taking her nonplussed daughter's hand, she marched to Jasmine's bedroom. On the bed, Ted looked up from his phone, his earphones buzzing noisily. Without looking at him, Ms. Wells told him to leave them. He did so, looking rattled at this coldness as he shut the door behind him.

"I distinctly recall," her mother began, pacing from one end of the room to the other, "asking you to tell me something, anything, about your life. I ask you again. Humbly."

She stopped and faced Jasmine. "What is going on in your life?"

"Mom-"

"And let's just start with Reggie, if you please."

"He... Look, the only reason you don't know about Reggie is because- well, it's nothing serious-"

"Of course not!" Billie Wells flashed her a furious smile. "It doesn't mean anything that he is asking your mother's permission to take you out of state. That happens in any casual fling!"

"He asked- what?!" Jasmine exploded in outrage. "He had no right to do that! I don't want to go with him!"

"What did you want?" Ms. Wells asked softly but with a fierce light in her eyes. "To spend the weekend with Ted behind this man's back?"

"Mom!" Jasmine cried in dismay. It was exactly what she had planned to do, but without the sleazy undertones her mother assumed were there.

"And you were happy to let me think you were spending time with me when in reality, you were making me an unwitting accomplice in this- this tawdry charade!"

Her mother looked at her with such disappointment in her eyes, it was on the tip of Jasmine's tongue to beg her forgiveness. "I don't understand why you couldn't just go be with Ted without embroiling me - or making a fool of Reggie."

"Making a fool of... Mom, why are you defending this guy?" Jasmine cried. "You don't even know him!"

"You're right, Jasmine, I don't. So tell me about him. Tell me everything!"

"Look, I know Reggie seems polite and sophisticated and charming, and to an extent, he is all those things. But there's also a dark side there," Jasmine stressed. "He's not... kosher."

Ms. Wells sent her daughter a sidelong glance. "Kosher," she repeated tonelessly.

Jasmine nodded and came closer to the older woman. "People say he's done some pretty bad things, Mom," Jasmine went on in hushed tones. "He's supposed to be this big-time drug baron, just a violent, sadistic guy. He beats people up, tortures them for kicks..."

Her voice trailed off as her mother's forced giggles began. Jasmine stared at her for a second. "Mom."

The laughter jumped an octave higher, acquiring a hysterical edge. Jasmine stepped back from her mother, inwardly cursing herself up and down.

The overloud laughter tapered off, and her mother wiped her wet cheeks with trembling hands. "A drug baron," she echoed, still trying to catch her breath. "And a sadist, you say? Oh, Jasmine... Oh, do be serious."

She'd known this was a dead end. Of course it was, why the fuck had she expected it to be different? Jasmine shook her head slightly and went to take her some clothes from her overnight bag. She pulled on a top over her towel as her mother went on.

"I suppose that's another unimpeachable fact they're bandying about in your neighborhood? Along with the true story of how the government gave black people syphillis and AIDS? And - what's the other one you were telling me? - how rap music was invented by the white man to facilitate their self-genocide?"

Another peal of unhinged laughter filled the room.

"It does sound hilarious, doesn't it," Jasmine agreed grimly. She pulled on her jeans underneath her towel then kicked the latter off.

"You know, I wish I lived there sometimes, just for the entertainment! I guess with such conspiracies stacked against their race, our Reggie must seem too successful to be true."

There was a brief pause in which the only sound was Jasmine folding her towel with rather more force than necessary. She heard her mother heave a wistful sigh, but she could not find it in herself to look at her.

"For the last time, sweetie, tell me something about Reggie, please," Ms. Wells persisted.

"Tell you what, Mom?" Jasmine almost shouted, spreading her hands and facing her at last. "What is it you want me to say, what do you want to hear?"

"Well, how the two of you met would be a start," her mother went on in that ladylike, gentle way Jasmine had admired and sought to emulate when she was little.




Reggie's Girl Ch. 04



She looked down at the towel she held and gave an ambivalent shrug. "Someone slashed my tires and he gave me a ride."

"Oh? And how does Ted know him, since they came here together?"

"Ted is- well, he's sort of Ted's... sponsor. For now."

"How generous of him. Now, why roll your eyes, Jasmine, is that not generous?"

"Yeah, sure, he's Santa Claus himself." Jasmine despised herself for being sarcastic with her mother but she couldn't help it.

"Well, I don't know for sure, but... you seem just hellbent on sabotaging your relationship," Ms. Wells commented. "And maybe it's none of my business, except..."

The older woman paused and a look of painful reminiscence crossed her face. "You know, it seemed strange when he asked my permission to take you on a getaway. Then I realized that what I found strange was the entire idea of a man showing my daughter such- You see, men like him are considered old-fashioned, but in my day men never treated me like that, no matter what I-"

She stopped herself and gave a forceful shake of her head. "But that was me! And if at any time, in all the years I've been raising you, I've given you the idea that you aren't worthy of a man's respect... Jasmine, I apologize."

Jasmine knew her mouth was hanging open but she couldn't move to fix her stupid expression. In sharp contrast, her mother seemed much calmer now that she had spoken her piece.

"And I hope you forgive me. Most of all, I hope you don't throw away what you have with Reggie because I happened to have failed you. Don't punish yourself for my mistakes, love."

Then with a gentle click of the door behind her, her mother was gone. The silence stretched out as her earlier conversation with Bailey returned to haunt her. "Mothers!" she exploded in frustration.

* * *

It was an uncomfortable drive to the South Bronx. Ted immediately blamed himself for Jasmine's run in with Krow and had brooded in silence as he stared out of the window.

Jasmine had tried to draw him out of himself to no avail. All the while, Reggie had been absorbed in his phone and in the deafening silence she by turns cursed and was grateful for his non-interference.

When the Mercedes pulled up outside Ted's building, Jasmine returned his tight hug then watched him reluctantly climb out and shut the door. When the car began to move, she turned at last to Reggie.

Her heart skipped a beat when she discovered him studying her from beneath his lashes; his gaze was trained on her braless breasts, rippling with the car's every movement under her baby tee. Mortification and something more jolted her into high-pitched speech.

"You just have to be as cold as possible to Ted, don't you? He hasn't been through enough to please you?"

His eyes lifted to her face and he offered her a faint smile. "Don't fuss, sweetheart."

"And you've got no business showing up at my mother's doorstep, much less talking to her about me behind my back!"

"I didn't disrespect your mother, did I?"

"That's not the point! You had no right-"

"You think this is what I wanted? If I had my way, your mom and I'd never have met and you'd be lying on a sunny beach right now-"

"Right, the Miami trip. Is that why I was suddenly invited, because you knew Krow was on the prowl? Did you feel guilt, by some miracle, and want to get me out of the way before I became yet another victim of your criminal lifestyle? Well, why not just give me a warning, although I have to admit, the money you dropped immediately after sex was a winning touch!"

"So I should've given you a warning," Reggie repeated, the words slow and doubtful. "You'd immediately have gotten on board? You wouldn't have refused to be manipulated by a scare tactic?"

Jasmine opened her mouth to refute him but honesty impelled her to pause, leaving him to carry right on. "As for the money, it's a rare girl in your economic situation who doesn't appreciate it, I'll tell you that. Regardless of taste, timing or relationship - witness your friend, Bailey. You think she lost any of my respect? You think I don't respect you, when you've got more balls than that boyfriend of yours, hands down? Shit, it's why I knew you couldn't be spooked into going with me!"

Reggie scoffed, looked out of the window, then a second later turned back to her. "Now, what's the one ace I had left? What's the one thing you've never been able to deny but your attraction to me? You were never gonna take a warning from me seriously but you might, just might have gone with me for the sex. So I gave you a taste of what you'd missing out on, and left you to think on it."

Jasmine absorbed this in silence for a long while.

Then, her lips twitching, she began, "So... you used your body-"

"Jesus Christ," Reggie muttered in quiet exasperation.

"No, no," Jasmine insisted, underlying laughter lending a tremor to her voice. "You tried to get what you wanted from me. By using your sexuality... you don't see it?"

There was a startling sound from the driver's seat as Tiny explosively cleared his throat. She saw Reggie dart a baleful glance in the rearview mirror, thus curing his chauffeur's sudden throat congestion. When he turned to her again with great dignity, she gave up biting her lips. Her tittering followed, lasting for the next minute.

At some point, Reggie seemed on the verge of saying something then stopped himself. Her laughter drowned out his sigh, but when he turned his gaze out of his window, she saw the sternness of his expression relax to wry acceptance.

Getting some of her breath back, Jasmine placed an apologetic hand on his arm. "It's just," she gasped. "Well, I-"

"Find it funny that the whore in this scenario ended up paying the john - so he's not even a smart whore. I get it. Alright? Now stop."

His affronted gravity set her on the brink of another laugh attack and she quickly withdrew her hand and covered her mouth with it. "You know, I would've gone somewhere safe, just not with you. I do take danger seriously-"

"As you've proved, by insulting me to my goddamn face," he muttered. "Tiny, just park out here, we'll be going out again in a minute."

With some surprise, Jasmine realized they were at the gate of his house. When had that happened? Time seemed to have flown right past her.

"Let's go, Jasmine!"

"Wait," she squealed, hurrying out of the car after Reggie. "Where are we going?"

"You're staying here," he answered as he swung the gate open and waited for her to pass through it. "For now," he added in a neutral voice. "I promise not to inflict my hospitality on you a minute longer than necessary."

"What are you gonna do?" Jasmine asked, feeling the first prickling of returning anxiety.

"Get your things from your apartment," he answered. "Clothes, your precious camera, that beat-up little laptop... and your tampons of course..."

Jasmine had to run a little to keep up with his long strides. "What's going to happen?"

Reggie unlocked the front door and once again stepped aside to admit her before walking in. "I thought you didn't care one way or another what happened to you."

"I mean what's going to happen to... Krow?"

He stilled and gave her a piercing stare. "What do you mean?" he asked, shutting the door.

"He... looks pretty determined. Ted told me, you know, that he's ambitious, wants to take your place as top dog, take your territories..." Jasmine gave an awkward shrug. "What are you going to do about him?"

Reggie stalked to the living room, leaving Jasmine to catch up with him. "It could be that I'm not interested in competing with this kid."

"Wait, what?" she barked. She walked up to where he stood pouring a shot of brandy into a glass. "What, you think he's not worth your attention? Because he could cause you a lot of trouble-"

"Krow's a young man, trying to break into a young man's game. Most natural thing in the world that he wants my spot. Drink up."

Jasmine grabbed the glass he held in front of her nose and knocked back the contents in one go. "But you're... 35, is it? You're not old!"

"Well, maybe not around you," he replied with a wicked light in his eyes. He plucked the glass out of her fingers and set it down beside the decanter.

"But I've been on the grind since I was nine. Now, in that time, I've managed to create something self-sustaining. Legit. Time to move on. I don't need the game anymore and it sure as hell never needed me - why stick around and tempt fate?"

She shook her head, unable to digest what he was saying. Did he really intend to quit while he was ahead? "I... I don't understand..."

He shrugged. "Y.N.R.E."

Jasmine frowned up at him, more confused than ever. "What?"

"Never mind," Reggie dismissed. "I'm just not trying to feast with the young lions. And I'll be damned if I'm still hypervigilant, looking over my shoulder at Ernie's age. Now, come on."

He took hold of her elbow and turned her towards the stairs. She balked and he issued a hard sigh. "Girl, I ain't leaving until I see you in a hot bath. Now what do you wanna do?" he queried.

He stood still, awaiting her compliance. After a moment's indecision, she preceded him up the stairs.

To her surprise, Reggie gave her ample space to undress and get into the bath. He did not offer any assistance beyond running the bath. He showed no interest in seeing her nudity and in fact appeared distracted as he left her to it.

It laid her trepidation at being in his bedroom again to rest but while she nestled in the luxurious hot bubbles, she was still curiously unsettled. She put it down to all the questions that remained yet unanswered.

When she was on the verge of coming out of the cooling water, Reggie opened the door and approached her. "I gotta go now," he announced.

"You can't," Jasmine blurted out before he could continue. "You have to tell me what you plan to do about Krow. It's just going to drive me crazy if you don't. I'm already going to pieces."

"Now, what's this," he cajoled. "A little while ago, you were reassuring me you're okay - what happened?" He sat on the edge of the tub and smiled into her eyes. "Where's my brave girl at?"

For whatever reason, his encouraging smile made her feel like she might burst into tears. "Ted never even went to the cops about Krow but he still has to hide," Jasmine rasped, blinking her smarting eyes. "Now, how am I supposed to keep this creep away? Pressing assault charges is definitely out."

"Don't think about that now-"

"He threatened Ted, Reggie," she exclaimed. "And he was in my mom's neighborhood today! Who knows who he'll attack next, if you don't-"

She suddenly bit her lip and looked down.

"If I don't what?" 

Reggie waited for her response in vain, then prompted almost gently. "Kill him?"

"No," she denied instantly, her head coming up. "I'd never ask... You have to know I wouldn't... at least... not for my own sake... it's like, if I didn't know that Krow's too driven, that he shifts targets to whoever's close..."

"But he does," Reggie murmured and Jasmine nodded in quick agreement. "So that's why you can't drop the subject."

"Reggie, he is relentless. If I go underground, it's someone else I love in the line of fire. This is no way to live."

"Right. But you're not asking for yourself that I... see to it that he's prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. That's what you're asking me to do here, right?"

There was something in his deliberate tone and bland expression, a mask-like quality that caused Jasmine to lower her lashes and nod, feeling somewhat abashed. "Right."

"You've suffered at Krow's hands, you have a right to pursue every avenue of legal redress available to you. Now, I could support that, if you asked me for yourself. Long as it's not your welfare or mine in the balance, though, I don't see how it's worth my time."

"See, that's not even true," Jasmine refuted with fervor. "If you're all about self-interest, then what about Ted's father?"

"What about him?" he snapped, betraying his annoyance. It seemed she was not meant to know about his debt to one Theodore Williams Sr. Let him wonder how much she knew.

"What about Kai?" she pressed. "What about Mr. Hollis, for God's sake, is he even capable of saying thank you? You know, he threw away the carpet you got him - yeah! After you left my apartment, he kept me up all night dragging it around. Next day, it was rolled up and he was lugging it down the stairs to the dumpster. He's still taking his meds though, so I guess you can keep buying him those - whatever it benefits you to do it."

Reggie stood up. "Up! Get out of the water, you're cold," he ordered briskly.

"I'm not." Jasmine eyed him before she added, "And neither are you. At least, not as much as you-"

"I'm not in the mood to argue with you, girl. Just do what I say: stand up." He picked up the towel he'd brought her and spread it before her expectantly.

Relenting at last, Jasmine stood up. The warmed fluffy towel was wrapped around her and then she accepted his hand as she stepped out of the bath. He led her out into his bedroom then carefully rubbed her body dry, right down to her feet.

When he was done, he let the towel drop to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Something in his manner told Jasmine he was not intent on seduction, which was why she let him pull her into his lap.

He then began what could only be called an inspection of her body. His fingertips glanced over her cheeks, smoothed the tiny nick at her throat, barely brushed her breasts and avoided her privates altogether. They lingered longest over the marks on her thighs.

He studied her flesh with a slight frown, and with such detachment that she felt, for all the world, like an invalid, or even an injured child. He did not regard her as this naked babe sitting on his lap, not at all.

In his absence, she always found the fact that she'd slept with Reggie not once, but several times to be beyond belief. She could never understand it. Until she got this close.

As she continued staring at his serious face, Jasmine suffered an increased shortness of breath.

He exerted a peculiar magnetism over her that exhilarated and suffocated all at once, that enlivened and consumed her.

Where would she find another man that moved her like this? She never would, she imagined. Never.

Reggie looked up at her suddenly as if she'd said his name. Jasmine stared back, slightly tightened her arms around his neck but otherwise didn't move.

Finally, after waiting an eternity for him to do something, she trailed a finger down the narrow band of beard edging his jaw. She felt the scruffy texture of his goatee as she considered the smoothness of his cheek. Then she leaned closer and brushed the irresistible brown skin with a feathery kiss.

Their noses touched and rubbed as her lips hovered over his in endless indecision. Then she gave in and kissed him once, twice, thrice and then he was the one doing the kissing.

Maybe it was the numerous shocks of the morning, but Jasmine was overtaken by a sudden wildness and next, she was clasping his face and kissing him back like a madwoman. Reggie broke off the kiss to catch his breath. Surprise showed in his eyes but she hauled him in for another devouring kiss.

With a quick movement, she shifted her legs and straddled him. His hands caught then kept squeezing her indented waist; she caught one and dragged it up to cover her aching breast, giving his fingers an encouraging squeeze. He responded with a lusty growl and a squeeze of his own, making the pale flesh bulge between his fingers.

Jasmine rolled her hips over his lap, and the hardening length beneath her aroused her to avidity. She had to have him. Now!

She drew back and her burning lungs gulped in much-needed air. Her lips at his ear, she begged, "Take it out."

Her hands were already fumbling at his belt, clumsy and ineffectual, and she soon gave up and just kept tugging. "God, Reggie, take it out already," she sobbed.

In abrupt decision, Reggie rolled over so she was lying on her back. She stared up at him, the sense of déjà vu tied to her dream of the night past so strong, she swore under her breath. His clean breath fanned her cheek as his laughter huffed out.

"That's right. This isn't what you want, is it?" he put to her.

"No! It is, I swear!" Jasmine cupped the back of his neck and tried to pull him down. "Come on, Reggie, let's fuck."

"Baby, you're in a fragile state of mind, right now - I shouldn't even be touching you!" he said rather breathlessly as he frowned down at her. "Christ, I can't afford to make another mistake with you."

"You're not taking advantage," she cooed, overcome with something very near exhilaration. He was concerned for her!

Reggie looked down at his fingers trailing over the triangular patch of curls between her legs. He found her clit and with patient strokes, reared it from its hood. Jasmine let out a moan and reached up to cup her breasts and knead her hard nipples.

He surveyed her aroused sex, her trembling belly, her blushing breasts as she caressed them, then dragged his gaze to her face.

"I want to fuck you. You know I do, but I make one wrong move and you bolt again, even I can't predict the consequences."

"I wouldn't!"

Jasmine's frantic expression glazed over when he began to pump one finger in and out of her pussy. Then he added a second finger, then a third. She shuddered in pleasure and bucked her hips, twisting her nipples with a high-pitched moan.

"You're just thinking with your crotch right now," Reggie diagnosed with a soft laugh. "It'll pass. No. Uh uh. You can give me that pretty-please face all you want, darlin', I'm not fucking you."

"If you stop, I'll scream the house down," Jasmine threatened, meaning every word.

"I won't. And you will."

Reggie lifted up off her. Suddenly, his fingers gathered her clit in a hard pinch. As promised, Jasmine screamed. He then plumped her hypersensitive flesh in a soothing motion.

"Poor baby," he murmured, as he slid down her body. "I'm gonna have to kiss it better now, huh?"

Jasmine moaned when soft, full lips landed right on her clit as he kissed her there with unbelievable tenderness. Then again, giving her a light nip with his teeth. Then a third time, applying nothing but the tip of his tongue.

Too good! It could not be borne; she pushed at his head but Reggie grabbed her hips and made her take every lick and every kiss until she was a quivering puddle beneath his mouth. Her feet gradually came up to imprison him in turn, wrapping tight around his neck.

Reggie licked his way down to her labia and parted the puffy lips with his tongue. He lapped up every millimeter of her pussy within reach, like he couldn't get enough of her taste. His beard, rubbing against her most sensitive skin, incited Jasmine to hysteria. God, it felt good, so raspy.

It took too much to moan anymore, she just gasped and wheezed while he ate her. She opened her legs wider, offering him more. Offering him everything. All of a sudden, Reggie ripped his mouth away. She immediately tightened her legs around his neck.

Jasmine heard him fighting for air and every puff of his breath on her pussy stimulated her even more. Then he dove back in, licking her frothing sex clean all over again.

Her legs around his neck were almost decapitating him, but she didn't care. Reggie's beard was back, giving her that delicious abrasion that drove her wild. That, combined with him now roughly sucking on her clit, uncorked her in almost no time.

Her thighs quaked. Her eyes rolled up and closed. Her mouth opened in a scream that must have been silent. Or perhaps not, for from somewhere in the fog around her came Reggie's voice, faint and chiding.

"Damn, baby, way to let Tiny know what's keeping me."

Jasmine took a deep breath and exhaled the last dregs of tension out of her. She felt boneless, satisfied beyond belief. And where was Reggie, so she could kiss him senseless? She couldn't feel him between her legs anymore.




Reggie's Girl Ch. 04



She opened heavy eyelids and coming up on one elbow, saw him some distance away, wiping his chin with a large handkerchief.

"All done, ma'am," he reported with irrepressible smugness. "You can see your reflection in that shit, now."

Jasmine chuckled. "I had an orgasm," she bragged, her words almost slurred. "Big one."

He cocked a dubious eyebrow at her loopy grin. "Yeah, I'll high-five you just as soon as I get you out of my beard."

"Let me get that for you." 

Stepping closer, Reggie stopped wiping and handed her the hankie; but she reached up and clasped his face and began, like a kitten, to lick the remainder of her mess off his beard.

"That's good too, I guess," he said slowly, his hand awkwardly lowering the hankie. When she was done, Jasmine pulled back and gazed deep into his eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, and tried to pull him down for a kiss, but he held back.

"Uh uh. You wanna thank me, you'll be here when I get back. That understood?"

She grinned, revealing the dimple in her left cheek. "Really, that's all? You're not gonna ask me to..." She glanced at his crotch then back at his face. "...finish you off?"

Reggie smile was tinged with regret as he caressed her damaged cheek. "Afraid that's out of the question. Which reminds me, you need an icepack." He pulled away and stepped back, wiping his hand over his face as his distracted frown returned.

"Your things should be here in two hours, give or take, so feel free to take a nap. Or explore the house, if you want; watch TV, listen to some music, swing from the curtains, whatever. Make yourself at home."

"Thank you, I will." The conventional words brought Reggie's intense stare back to her.

He scrutinized her injured cheek a moment longer, then with a whispered curse reached inside his coat pocket. At once, Jasmine stiffened until she saw him remove something metallic and hand it to her.

"Brass knuckles," she all but sighed in relief as she stroked the cold metal.

"Those are yours now," Reggie flared. "And for God's sake, use them when you have to!"

She lifted her eyes, sparkling with mischief, to his own and gave him a puckish smile. "Even on you?"

His eyebrows twitched, as did his lips. Then he lifted a casual shoulder. "Why not? If you can land one, then it'll be no more than I deserve."

"Oh, you think I can't?" Jasmine pretended to bristle.

"I think you can pack a fuckin' lethal punch," Reggie swore as he bent to kiss her lips. "Don't hurt me, now."



Reggie's Girl Ch. 05



Jasmine's stuff did arrive in a little under two hours, surprising her; she had fully expected it to arrive in the evening or the next day. An even bigger surprise was the attractive croak yelling her name from the back of the black SUV, unmistakably Bailey's voice.

"You've got so much explaining to do," the redhead lectured as she clambered out of the vehicle, bright pink carry-on in tow. "First, Reggie means nothing to you. Then here you are, playing lady of the manor at his house, looking like you've just finished having the most amazing-"

Bailey stopped mid-sentence and gaped at Jasmine's face. "Jasmine what the fuck!" she screeched, loud enough to make Tiny look back as he lugged their baggage towards the front door.

"Who did this?" she wanted to know, rushing to study the injury. "I'm gonna need a name, an address and a goddamn baseball bat!"

"Just a mugger, Bailey," Jasmine soothed, then went on before Bailey could interrupt, "It's the reason I'm here, Reggie found out about it and wanted to cheer me up."

"And did he?" A conspiratorial light immediately entered her friend's eyes.

"Can't you tell?" she remarked, busying herself with Bailey's feather earring.

"And did he...?"

Jasmine met her eyes and gave her a succinct nod. "Yeah." Her smile could not be held back though she tried. "Anyhoo, I'm more refugee than 'lady of the manor'. What about you, what are you doing here?"

"Reggie invited me. And by the way, here." Bailey stopped and enfolded her in a warm hug. Touched, Jasmine hugged her back but couldn't help asking, "Um, what's going on?"

Bailey stepped back and the pair made their way to the house arm-in-arm. "I'm sorry about the mugging thing. Reggie told me, when he came over, that you needed somebody to be there for you, although he didn't say you'd been attacked. You know, he really seems to take that seriously, making sure you're not alone."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "I know," she groaned. "He's almost paranoid about it." To the point of having her followed, but seeing how the Krow episode turned out, she supposed she couldn't protest too much about that.

"Paranoiacs are notoriously selfish," Bailey mused. "I don't think that's the word for him, to be honest."

"Overprotective, then, possessive."

"Isolating you from your friends is the hallmark of the abusive man. Reggie insists that you be around people who care about you."

Jasmine struggled to answer this but didn't know what to say. She figured Bailey must have noticed her discomfort, and tactfully changed the subject.

"God, this place is awesome," she breathed, looking around the house's interior as they came in. "It's almost like being at my parents' house, back when they wanted me to have the best of everything."

"I'm sure they still want that," Jasmine replied, amused. "You've just got to earn it on your own now."

"I wonder how Reggie earned all this," Bailey muttered as she went to study the Shona sculpture.

"Blood, sweat and tears," Jasmine said, and knew that she wasn't lying. "If he's telling the truth, he's been working since he was nine, so it didn't happen overnight."

Bailey stared at her, jaw sagging. "Nine?"

Jasmine just shrugged in response because Tiny was now descending the stairs, and she suspected discussions about his employer were taboo.

"Do you believe him?" Bailey asked, wandering round the room to admire the myriad paintings on the walls.

"I see no reason to doubt him," she said for Tiny's benefit. But when the enormous man reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned and headed straight in her direction.

Jasmine watched his approach in horror but then he stopped and placed a freezing object to the side of her face. He waited until she held the icepack herself then turned and walked away. "Uhh, thanks Tiny," she called belatedly.

Her answer was the sound of the front door swinging shut.

"I think I need a man like that in my life," she heard Bailey sigh, and turned to give her a horrified look. "Like Tiny?"

"No, silly," Bailey laughed. "Like Reggie! The 'rents always said I could use focus and discipline; he must have it in spades with that work history. You think he'd mind becoming my mentor?"

"Yes," Jasmine exclaimed, with such passion that she startled Bailey. "Him, a mentor- it's like a bad joke! He'd probably be offended if you asked."

"You know, he seemed pretty chill the day I met him," Bailey pointed out. "And he thought he'd caught us playing- I dunno, niggers and crackers or something equally racist, remember? And he just sort of let it slide..."

"That doesn't mean anything," Jasmine insisted. "Look, just take my word for it: Reggie is not mentor material. Period!"

"Okay," Bailey murmured peaceably. "But just so you know? I wouldn't hook my claws into your man, Jasmine."

Stumped, Jasmine ended the conversation by suggesting they have a snoop around the house.

It was a fairly large house, too big for one man. They counted four bedrooms, each clearly unoccupied. Bailey's things had been deposited in the guest room Jasmine had been allocated her first night here. This time, Jasmine's place was in the bedroom closest to the master, for that was where she found her bags.

Their stomachs were just beginning to rumble when the doorbell rang. Close upon it was Xavier's bellowing voice. "Ayo D! You and your friend come on down, lunch is here!"

It was indeed. Bailey tore into it with gusto, as did Xavier. But Jasmine savored her meal for so long, that the others wondered aloud if there was anything wrong with it.

"No," Jasmine stated softly. "It's... it's perfect."

It was the meal he'd ordered for her the night they had met, from the same Italian restaurant, given the name on the boxes. The same meal she'd recreated for him earlier in the week. Coincidence?

If it was deliberate on Reggie's part, then his reasoning escaped her. Was it a reference to their first meal together, and the events that had followed later? Or was it an oblique reminder that he still expected her to cook for him? It could even mean he was at that restaurant now, wining and dining someone else as he had herself.

The answer came, as immediate as it was unexpected, when her phone began to buzz. Jasmine pulled it out of her pocket, frowned at the strange number then answered.

"I was just thinking of you," came a honey-smooth baritone, and with it, a sudden tide of goosebumps. "Enjoying your lunch?"

"As much as I can enjoy chewy steak with this cheek," she said, surprise making her defensive.

"Chewy!" Reggie echoed as though the word made no sense.

"How'd you get my number?"

"Did you bite yourself?" he persisted, ignoring her question. "Never mind. Tell X to get you something else, whatever's more comfortable for you in your condition."

"I don't want to do that!" Jasmine scoffed. "Why should he interrupt his lunch because of your mistake?"

There was a long-suffering sigh on the other end. "And I suppose I'm the one who deserves to have his lunch interrupted?"

"It seems only fair."

"Well, what do you want me to bring you, then?" Reggie enquired, using the tone of one prepared to be patient.

Jasmine did not know what answer to give. She was not even sure how the conversation had arrived at this point, with Reggie coming back home.

"I'm not... really hungry," she said at last. "Never mind. I'll be fine."

There was a moment's pause as she heard Reggie excuse himself to whomever he was with before he got back to her. "What's going on with you?" he asked. "You sound a little upset now."

"I'm not upset," Jasmine denied, as she stood and wandered to the corner of the living room. "In fact, I'm very grateful to you. For all you're doing for Ted and me. I... literally don't know what would happen to either of us if it weren't for you."

Because once, she'd thought she had Reggie all figured out. She had clung stubbornly to the stories she'd heard about him, taking them seriously enough to repeat them to her mother.

But for all that, Reggie was here for her. Though it rankled terribly, her sense of fairness forced her to admit that the people closest to her were not as available to her as he was.

Ted felt too guilty to be around her. Her mother refused to have her blissful ignorance disturbed. And the nightmarish figure of neighborhood legend was even now offering to bring her something softer to eat.

"God, it's like the world is ending," Jasmine muttered with a humorless laugh.

"Hey, keep that chin up," Reggie exhorted. "This shit with Krow? Don't even trip, it ain't nothin' but a little thing. We'll get through this, ya heard?"

She had to smile. She loved how he did that, speaking the Queen's English one second, then lapsing seamlessly into Ebonics the next.

"Yes, sir," she murmured.

Jasmine heard his husky laughter and almost sighed. "I love it when you call me 'sir'," Reggie purred. He wasn't lying, his pleasure practically dripped off the radio waves.

"I can do a lot of things you love," she quipped, shocking herself.

"Oh, word?" he chuckled. "So you just teasing me, or are you making me an offer?"

"What if I was?" Jasmine asked, her curiosity at fever pitch. "Would you drop what you're doing and come home immediately?"

"...I would."

She likewise paused before answering. "Then you should. 'Cause I am."

* * *

Two hours later, Jasmine was recovering against Reggie's long body, her head rested upon his sweat-misted chest. His heart thundered away underneath her ear in a way that made her smile with womanly pride at being able to do that to him.

"Don't you dare fall asleep," he growled as he stroked her tousled hair.

"I'm not tired," Jasmine assured him softly as she stretched a little against him. "But Bailey and Xavier have been gone two hours. They're almost back with my oatmeal."

"Your point being?"

"That we're naked, on the living room carpet."

"And whose fault is it we didn't make it to the bed?"

"How will that matter when they walk in on us both?"

"I thought you were looking forward to that."

"I was not," Jasmine denied, shocked. She started up on her elbow and looked down at him, one eyebrow raised. "Are you?"

His appreciative gaze locked on her bare breasts and his chest rose and fell in a deep breath. "You keep poking those titties at me and it really won't matter. Hey, wait, hold up... don't run off just yet."

Reggie caught her wrist and pulled her down beside him again. "You're supposed to be doing what I love," he reminded her, cupping her breast.

"Reggie, please!"

Her breath caught in her throat as he gave her nipple a warning pinch. "Within reason! There is nothing reasonable about letting..."

Her words evaporated when he bent and took her nipple in his mouth and started suckling deeply. She cradled his head in shaky hands, her head falling back in sheer intoxication for a moment before she drew his mouth away.

"Alright, I'll let you go," Reggie promised, his voice a little thick. "But first tell me this: how come you live in the projects? Judging by her furniture alone, your mother earns a decent living. Why not let her help you out?"

"She can't," Jasmine replied in an unsteady voice. "All that Sheraton came from some plastic surgeon's wife, the carpet belonged to some celebrity attorney's wife, and maybe the chinaware as well. They're... friends of hers, they give her their old stuff a lot."

"Well, she can afford a place in Manhattan, why-"

"She sells cosmetics that she makes herself in the kitchen, she can barely afford anything," Jasmine interrupted with a touch of impatience. "And do you know how much the rent is there? Four grand a month for that shoebox, so even though the clientele for her cosmetics is mostly her upper-crust buds, she still has to sell off some of their gifts sometimes. And sometimes even that isn't enough, and she'll ask for my help."

"Why? Where's your father?"

"Who?"

"You're telling me you live in the 'jects so you'll be able to afford your mother's lifestyle?" Reggie asked softly, keeping a close eye on her reaction.

"I live within my means," Jasmine answered, her voice hard. "And my mother's lifestyle might've been plenty different if she hadn't decided to have me. It was pretty tough for single mothers back in the day, she missed a lot of opportunities because of me."

"Jasmine, you live in one of the most dangerous blocks in New York. At this point, it looks less like you're thanking your mother for choosing to have you, and more like you're trying to reverse that choice."

"I don't have some kind of death wish," she stated in growing anger.

"Maybe not a conscious one," Reggie returned. "But let's not pretend you're just the sweet, normal girl next door either. Those scars on your thighs? We both know you gave them to yourself."

Anger turned into cold dread in the pit of Jasmine's stomach. "What are you talking about?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

"Those aren't stretch marks," he replied coldly. "They're cut marks. Mama Wells know her little girl's carving herself up? I oughta go back there, right now, and tell her you're a cutter, bring her the hell back down to earth!"

And just like that, she was engulfed in a despair so black that she was certain she would never again know happiness. It felt like the end of her. Had she not known from the start that Reggie was dangerous? She'd been right - he had just annihilated her in the space of a sentence.

And because the conversation had been murdered right along with her, Jasmine snatched away her wrist, got up and stalked off, leaving him lying amid their discarded clothing.

"Jasmine-"

"Go to hell!" she yelled over her shoulder, hardly aware of what she was saying.

"Jasmine!"

She kept walking then did what she should have done at their first meeting. She ran. Up the stairs, into her room, slamming the door shut. With her back against the thick wood, she tried her best to take deep, calming breaths but she felt like her lungs were collapsing.

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, to cry, anything to relieve the asphyxiating emotions roiling inside her. But she could not. Shame, like a particularly punishing corset, bound them firmly to her breast. She opened her mouth, but the only sound that came out was her desperate hyperventilation.

In the darkness gathering around her, she discerned the floor rising up with startling rapidity but she was unconscious before it hit and she never felt the impact.

The next time Jasmine opened her eyes, it was night. There was a certain stillness in the bedroom that suggested the hour was very late. The silence was complete save for the occasional riffle of papers close by.

The bedside lamp was on and beside her sat Reggie, his lap covered in numerous documents. He was holding one in his hand, scrutinizing it with a slight frown through his reading glasses.

She shifted slightly and at once his attention was on her. "Jasmine," he breathed, a heavy note of relief in his voice. He reached out and stroked back her hair from her face. "How you feeling, love, talk to me."

"Groggy," she croaked. Her throat felt like she hadn't spoken in years.

"That'll be the sedatives the doctor gave you. You'll be fine."

"You called a doctor?"

The hand stroking her hair stilled and Reggie gave her an odd look. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked.

Jasmine did not know how to answer so she just shrugged. "Well, thank you."

"For what?" Reggie grunted in self-derision. "If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have had to be called in the first place. And he had some choice words for me for upsetting you in your condition."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Did he?"

"Oh yeah," he sighed as he withdrew his hand and took off his glasses. "He gave me a lot of info on why you might, uh, cut and... I didn't realize that you carry around so much shame because of this. Apparently, it's your worst nightmare that people will find out, so when I threatened to tell your mother like I did, it damn near destroyed you."

"To put it lightly," Jasmine muttered.

"Jasmine, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am," Reggie said seriously. "Instead of keeping my goddamn mouth shut about something I don't understand, I-"

"It's fine," she cut in. She honestly didn't expect him, or anyone else for that matter, to understand her craziness.

"Does anyone else know? Even Ted?" he asked.

Jasmine shook her head and felt a pang of deep regret. She had been especially careful to keep it from Ted, which, given how close the years had made them, had begun to create a certain awkwardness between them.

For instance, Ted loved to tickle her, but there always came that moment when her giggles ceased and his hands stilled and lingered on her waist. They'd stare at each other while a lovely warm feeling arose between them, but then she'd remember what she was - damaged, defective, mad - and inevitably draw back.

It was sad to remember all the times she'd done it. Like the time she'd passed out on his chest while watching a movie late one night on his couch. Jasmine had woken up to find him gently kissing the tip of her nose and had smiled up at him; then she'd pretended to go back to sleep when his arm tightened around her shoulder.

And sometimes, she'd just plain acted weird. Like when Ted's high school crush, Letitia, had given him an autographed Jean Grae CD and thus earned his uproarious gratitude. Out of the blue, Jasmine had let fly with a catty remark, almost bringing his humble birthday party to a standstill. She still cringed to remember the stunned look on Ted's face.

"Hey," Reggie whispered, rubbing away the frown between her eyes with his thumb. "Don't stress, I won't tell anybody anything. It's your choice to make, I'm not trying to take it from you."

Jasmine sighed and rolled onto her side to face him. "Thank you."

He picked up one white hand and carried it to his lips. "You know you're always welcome," he murmured, his breath warm over her knuckles. 

Their eyes met for a second then he released her hand and started gathering his papers. He dumped them on the bedside table in an untidy sheaf, his glasses on top, then turned and reached for her.

Jasmine danced away from him, well aware that they were both naked beneath the sheets, and he laughed. "Jasmine, come on, don't play hard to get now," he coaxed. "It's late, and after staying up doing my taxes, all I wanna do right now is hold my baby. Tell her everything's gonna be alright and whatnot."

"I don't need your pity," she informed him with a haughty lift of her nose and he nodded.

"Of course not," Reggie concurred gravely, "but I'm not ashamed to say I need yours. You got any idea how much you scared me back there? I drank all the whiskey in the house just to get my hands to stop shaking! Baby, please, if you've got any mercy, come here, let me hold you, or I'm gonna have to open up the brandy too."

Jasmine rolled her eyes but snuggled closer all the same. "Don't drown your sorrows, I'm here."

Reggie drew her closer to him and placed her head on his shoulder. They might have lain in contented silence, but then he spoke.

"Why do you do it?" he asked quietly.

Jasmine frowned as she watched his fingers lace through hers. "It's..."

She searched for a pithy explanation to get it over with. "If you were buried alive, you'd try to claw your way out, right? Sometimes, I feel this numbness, it feels like being trapped in an emotional coffin, so... I guess I'm just trying to scratch my way out with a razorblade."

"Jesus," Reggie hissed. "And you-"

"Reggie, could we please not do this?" she pleaded. "I just can't have this conversation right now."

"Okay," he agreed with some difficulty, "but you've got to talk to someone at some point. We'll find you a therapist, alright? I want you to get better, the cost will be my burden.




Reggie's Girl Ch. 05



But Jasmine was wary of getting even deeper in Reggie's debt than she already was, and avoided answering. "You know I haven't cut since I met you?" she whispered, trailing a slim hand across his bare chest. "You've seen my scars are weeks old."

Reggie stroked her upper thigh with a sigh. "That doesn't mean you're cured, Jasmine."

"But it means something," Jasmine stressed. She let her hand drift down to rest low on his flat belly and he gave her a speculative look. "I've never felt so alive as when I'm with you. In bed or out."

Reggie watched her climb astride his lap, the soft glow of the lamp highlighting her curves with a golden sheen in places while shadowing the rest. He pushed her hair back over her shoulder so both pink nipples were on display.

"What do you wanna do, baby?" His voice was a throaty whisper, so laden with sensual promise, her soft nipples grew erect. He licked his lips as he watched this reaction.

"Whatever you want. I'll do it for you," Jasmine promised softly. Reggie lifted his gaze to hers then cupped the side of her face; she rubbed her cheek into his palm, a tender smile curving her lips and glowing in her eyes.

"I swear you're playing for keeps, girl," Reggie breathed, and she let him pull her close and give her a warm, open-mouthed kiss. She kissed him back with a breathless moan.

It was amazing how he remained controlled during the same kiss that drove her wild. But then, she was certain he'd gotten his rocks off at least more than once since their last night at her apartment. Whereas she had not felt him inside her except for their quickie that afternoon.

"What do you want from me?" she panted after tearing her lips from his.

"Please yourself, Jasmine," he bid her. When her eyebrows rose up he added, "Make yourself scream, like I'm already fucking you. Let me see you come."

Jasmine did her best to comply but it was a tall order. He absolutely refused to touch her, though she begged him to time and again.

Finally, one hand still massaging her engorged clit, she cupped the underside of one breast and managed to pop the nipple in her mouth. She slurped at it noisily, lost in the bursting sensations within her.

She ground into his lap, leaving her musky wetness smeared on his pubic hair and his hot, silky dick. It throbbed so hard and ready beneath her. Her sex was gasping for something to hold on to, to squeeze, and it was right there, so maddeningly close.

A hard hand whacked her behind, making her cry out. "I know you're not trying to get that dick," Reggie scolded.

Before Jasmine could apologize, his hand fell across her ass again. Her wails punctuated each loud smack as he further reddened her buttocks. Then as abruptly as he'd begun he stopped, when an unmistakable series of squirts issued from her cunt, splashing his cock and thighs.

"Little freak," Reggie growled, as she moaned through her orgasm.

His hot gaze raked her trembling, sweat-sheened body as he supported her in his hands. "Easy, baby. You're shaking," he observed, his voice gentling.

"What do you do to me?" Jasmine mumbled in wonder.

"Just enjoy it," Reggie whispered, before twisting his fist in her hair. He pulled hard enough to induce a whimper of pleasure-pain then took his sweet time kissing a moist trail down her neck to her heaving breasts.

As she writhed on his lap, her erect clit rubbed his cock until she was unbearably horny. He couldn't deny her any longer, he had to end this torture. "Fuck me," she heard herself whine.

"Not yet," he rasped, releasing her nipple from his mouth at last.

Jasmine made a frustrated noise in her throat and dug her nails into his shoulders. He was inhuman!

"Hands and knees, Jasmine," he ordered, slapping her backside hard enough to make her start. "For giving me such a scare, you're gonna let me smack that ass all over again."

It was hard to object to that, when she'd just come so hard from his impromptu spanking. But his gold-brown eyes were lit with intent in a way that made her wary.

"Then when I'm done," he continued, tipping up her chin with his forefinger, "you're gonna offer it up and let me use it, just to show daddy there's no hard feelings."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Reggie-"

"Are you telling me no, baby?"

He awaited her answer in silence. She groped in vain for one, before she gave in and gave him the one he expected.

"No sir," Jasmine mumbled. Hell, they could try something new. If there was one thing she'd learned she could trust Reggie with, it was her sexual fulfillment.

A few minutes later, with her ass high and stinging like crazy, Reggie, still panting from the effort, took a break from spanking her and reached over to open the bedside drawer. Jasmine felt so swollen and sensitive between her legs, she had to spread her legs further apart as she waited. She'd never - ever! - been so ready for him as she was now.

She frowned and shifted her head from side to side on her sweat-dampened pillow as a sly thumb slipped into her crack. It was a new, strange sensation and she didn't yet know what to make of it.

"Relax," came Reggie's whisper as his finger ran down her exposed pink slit and settled over her clit and rubbed in slow circles. His other hand cupped one breast, hanging like tear-shaped fruit, and rubbed her nipple across his palm.

"Mmm. That's nice," she attested thickly.

"And this?" Dipping his forefinger into her sopping wet pussy, he worked the lubricated digit into her ass.

"Oh!" Jasmine's body jerked as his finger popped in. Reggie pushed his finger in one very slow stroke, until the entire length was buried in her, and her hands slid up to knead the pillow. "Ooooohhh."

"Like it?" he whispered.

Jasmine nodded. This was a very new, very intense sensation. What could she even say? But then he pulled his finger back and she moaned in dejection. "Don't."

His finger didn't leave her though, just slipped back in again. Then eased back and pushed forward again. A lively little rhythm, one that she fast got used to. 

"Yeah," Jasmine sighed, letting him do as he wanted. He seemed to know what he was doing, more than she, at any rate. Her heavy breast hung into his other hand, and he pulled on her hard nipple in rhythm with his finger fucking.

"Oh, please," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"Want more, Jasmine?" Reggie asked. His middle finger now prodded against her ass until it was also stuffed inside her. Both fingers now fucked her ass and a determined third began entry.

"Oh God!" Jasmine rocked her hips against his hand and her own hand stole between her legs to pull on her clit. God, what was he doing to her? Is this what he wanted? To show her he could make her enjoy any kind of sex with him?

She'd never thought of ass play before, had never considered it something she'd enjoy. But those had been the days she had considered herself asexual, reasoning that her dread of showing another human being her cutting scars would always win out over any instinct to propagate the species.

But with Reggie, God only knew why, her sexuality just exploded out of dormancy; and now, she had a strong suspicion she'd lose out in a major way if he let her ass remain a virgin.

"Now you're getting into it." Reggie's deep voice sounded pleased as her hips quickened. Her pussy dripped onto the sheets and she tried to fill the aching void. Her fingers were hopelessly inadequate for the task; her sex demanded Reggie's huge girth. He leaned over her back and put to her: "What is it you want?"

"I don't know," Jasmine moaned.

"I think you do."

His fingers suddenly pulled out of her ass and she felt terribly deprived. "What are you doing?" she cried.

Reggie leaned away from her and she heard him scrabbling around in his bedside drawer. He seemed to be looking for something. Couldn't it wait?!

"Reggie, please!"

"What do you want?" he asked again, as he slathered something that felt like oil into her crack, focusing on her tight rear hole.

"You know what I want!"

"Don't you? Tell me."

Reggie poured a liberal amount of lube into his hand and worked it over the entire length of his hot shaft as he watched her.

"Please, Reggie. I can't... it's not enough," she entreated, still trying to please her spoilt pussy with her fingers. Her ass still tingled, but now felt terribly empty without his naughty fingers working their magic there. "Do it again, Reg."

"Do what?"

Jasmine lifted her head and glared at him over her shoulder. "My ass! I want you to fuck me in the ass!" she demanded, both desperate and defiant.

"Keep your face down," Reggie murmured, placing his hand on her back. Her gaze dropped to his shiny, dark cock, coated with lube and she was overcome at the sight. He was beautiful. She wanted to watch while it impaled her, somehow. "Now!"

She lowered her head to the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt him press the head of his erection against her rear entrance and swallowed hard. "Is it... gonna hurt?"

The note of worry in her voice must have reached him through his excitement because he paused. "At first," he replied truthfully, then sought to ease her mind. "But I'll be real gentle, Jasmine. It won't hurt any more than it needs to."

"Let's just do it slow," she requested, then moaned as his dick prodded her again. Reggie nudged and pushed until his helmet had squeezed in half an inch.

Jasmine kept a vicious grip on the pillow as he continued in one very slow, relentless stroke, pausing for no longer than a second when he paused at all. She made labored noises through clenched teeth, letting out an explosive sigh when he at last stopped.

"You're so big," she panted. Reggie seemed to understand that that wasn't precisely a compliment.

"Ah, you took a whole lot of it, love, and on the first try, too," he cajoled breathlessly, rubbing the small of her back. "I love you for that. Now, it gets a lot better, I promise."

Jasmine's head reeled from the intense, satisfying sensation of being stuffed so full. It had nothing to do with those three little words he'd just said. He'd just meant it in a casual sense anyway, a nice word of encouragement.

Reggie began to move in slow, gentle strokes, letting her moans guide his fucking. Soon, her muffled grunts became short, rhythmic sighs. Her rigid spine relaxed into a drooping curve as she adjusted herself to better receive him. Her hand crept from the pillow to return between her sweaty thighs.

Jasmine felt mindless, drunk with pleasure. This was well beyond any sexual fantasies she'd had, ever, and she was loving it.

"Faster," she gasped, and he picked up his pace, pulling out a little more to make deeper strokes. Her clit throbbed between her pulling and pinching fingers, and she knew she was on the brink of climax, in fact her biggest one yet.

"Pound my ass, sir," she mewled. "Pound it good! God, I'm so close."

Reggie tightened his grasp on her hips as she bounced her ass back to meet his thrusting hips. She was fucking him as surely as he was fucking her now. Her ass felt wide open, it wasn't difficult at all.

He'd meant it when he said it got better - the pain from him spanking then penetrating her ass was nothing compared to the screaming pleasure he was giving her now. The fact that it was her rear he was reaming was remarkably irrelevant, maybe even added to the erotic thrill.

A garbled string of curses and pleas left her lips, and Jasmine felt herself climax in a huge eruption that left her weak and pliant on the bedsheets. He then pulled out of her and eased her flat on her back.

Reggie mounted her supine form, grasping her slippery thighs and placing them about his hips. He then entered her cunt in one gliding stroke, making her cry out from the unbearable pleasure of it. Then they were fucking again, and from his strong, steady rhythm, it was not hard to imagine that he could go on forever.

"You're killing me," Jasmine whimpered as she clung to him.

"Shh, baby, it's alright, now," he assured her, thrusting even harder. "You can take me."

But she was convinced otherwise and all but begged him for mercy. He ignored her pleas until they were utterly incoherent, until she was truly out of her mind from his ruthless fucking. She needed it desperately and at the same time needed it to end. She loved it, but she couldn't bear it a second longer.

Reggie made a snarling sound as she climaxed for the final time, drenching his sheets afresh. Her pleasure was prolonged by the sudden hot jet of his semen bursting inside her. Part of her panicked at the realization that he was coming inside her, but the rest of her luxuriated in the incredible satisfaction of it.

His cock issued one forceful spurt after another deep within her as they completed mating - it was the primal completion of a primal act. Later, she would claw his eyes out for it, but for now it just felt so natural, inevitable... and far too visceral to deny.

Reggie stared down at her for long seconds after emptying himself in her, looking at her as though he'd never seen her before, and when he finally slid out of her body, he immediately pulled her close against him.

The aftershocks of their intense sex reverberated through his strong body at intervals. A sated Jasmine lay her head on his chest and kissed his dark nipple. There was no need for words, and she was very content to just be held now.

Their breathing had eventually quieted when she heard a muted buzzing nearby. Sighing, Reggie reached over and picked his phone up from the nightstand beside them.

There was a subtle tensing of his body and after a moment, Jasmine lifted her head. Her eyes were drawn to the text Reggie had been staring at too long, given its brevity.

"Sorry pal," it read.

Her gaze darted to Reggie's slight frown and her own brow creased in concern. She was about to speak when the phone lit up again. He automatically opened the new text.

"Little cocksucker's got friends in high places. Better watch your back Reggie."

"What's that about?" Jasmine puzzled aloud and Reggie turned to her as if he'd just remembered she was there. He put his phone back on the nightstand and gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze.

"Go to sleep, baby," he prompted, kissing her on the forehead. "You're exhausted."

"It's about Krow, isn't it?" she remarked with sudden certainty. "What, is he like, untouchable? Who-"

"Go to sleep," he repeated gently. Jasmine felt she was being humored but didn't know what to do about it. Reggie could hardly be bullied into a conversation he clearly had no intention of having. And she was also in no mood, just now, for yet another fight.

With a fretful sigh, she laid her cheek on his chest again. His hand came up to absently stroke her tousled hair. By slow degrees, their companionable silence returned and just as she was drifting off to sleep, an idea came to her.

"What about Miami?" Jasmine asked drowsily. "It's safe there, isn't it?"

Reggie's answer was instant. "Perfectly safe," he averred. "Plus, you'd love it there, I think it's just what you need."

"Can we go there, maybe this weekend?"

"Of course we can," he replied with warm indulgence. "Whatever you w-"

"With Ted." This last was not a request.

Reggie was silent so long, she was just about to speak when he responded at last with considerably less welcome in his voice.

"Of course. We'll bring Ted along, no problem."

"Actually, Ted's the whole reason Miami is back on the table in the first place. It's just that he's practically a prisoner in that little apartment - and he hasn't even done anything wrong! You know, he hasn't had an easy life up until now, and I just think he deserves-"

"Jasmine," Reggie interrupted, and something in his voice made her stop and look up at him. He favored her with a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Could we not discuss Ted right now?"

She gave him a bland look before her eyebrows jumped up and her mouth formed a pink circle. But of course. Men were prideful creatures, were they not? After sex, he probably just wanted to hear her babble on about how he'd rocked her world, not her plans for the man she'd known and loved for years before she'd ever met him.

And to be fair, he had indeed rocked her world - as always. He deserved her praise, had more than earned it. She would not begrudge him.

Snuggling even closer to him, Jasmine kissed his cheek. "What was that for?" Reggie enquired huskily.

"For leaving my ass so sore."

He chuckled at that and she kissed his shoulder. "And that's for leaving my pussy sore, too."

"You're welcome, baby," Reggie whispered, then he growled as she got a little carried away and kissed his ribs and licked his nipples.

She climbed atop him and lowered herself down his body until she could swirl her tongue around the deep hollow of his navel. Her dangling tits kept brushing his stirring cock, making him shiver each time they did.

At length, she looked up at him and smiled. "I want you to leave my face sore, too. Please."

Moistening his lips, Reggie reached over and gently brushed her wild hair out of her face. Then he cupped the back of her head and guided her mouth over his waiting erection.

By the time she was swallowing his come, Jasmine had no energy left. She simply closed her eyes and went to sleep with her cheek on his muscular thigh.

When she awoke some time later in the night, it was to find herself arranged next to Reggie, his arms locked around her like he never wanted to let her go. Smiling a little, she buried her face in his throat and went back to sleep.



Reggie's Girl Ch. 06: The Finale



The late afternoon sun blasted everything in sight so that, to eyes used to the constant gray of the concrete jungle, Miami was a sort of city of gold. At least the parts of it that they drove through.

Bailey couldn't stop jabbering, tugging Jasmine's arm as she pointed out this or that interesting thing, but Jasmine did not have much to say. Neither did Ted. A strange tension hung between the two of them, which puzzled Jasmine.

She had thought they'd enjoy each other's company even more in Reggie's absence, since he had left for Miami the day before. But it was almost as if their friendship had undergone a subtle and mysterious change, which neither she nor Ted wished to examine too closely.

Jasmine was almost grateful when the long, scenic drive ended, enabling her to get out of the claustrophobic confinement of the car. They stood in the gravel driveway admiring the stupendously appointed mansion before them, so daunting in its magnificence that even Bailey fell quiet.

Once they were inside, they were intimidated for another reason. A party was in full swing and the vast majority of the attendees were beautiful young women, from every race, it seemed - and only Jasmine and Bailey were not in bikinis.

Other than a few curious glances, the newcomers attracted little attention. They were able to navigate through the scantily-clad crowd to the other side of the house, where they came to the edge of a packed infinity pool. Here were the first men they saw since they entered.

The racial diversity of the women did not cross over to the guys. They were mostly black and Latino, interspersed with some biracial bros. The two genders did share the swimsuit dress code, and here the women were just as unencumbered as the men - Jasmine had never seen so many nipples in her life!

"Heyyy, you made it D!" Xavier greeted, appearing at her side. Apart from them, he was the only one fully dressed. "And you brought your friends too, welcome."

"Thank you," Jasmine said, while the others mumbled their thanks as well. "Uh, we aren't ready to get wet right now, but I remember Reggie saying something about a pool table once..."

"Oh, you play?" Xavier asked, and at her nod turned to leave and beckoned to them to follow. "Alright, let's see what you got, then."

They went inside, turned left, then down some steps into a large room; this one was completely empty. He flipped on the lights and they saw a gorgeous pool table in the center of the room. The balls appeared to be made of glass as they were transparent save for the colorful bands that bore their numbers. Jasmine had never played on anything as fine as this.

Beating Xavier twice in a row restored some of her confidence, allowing her to ask, "Is it always like this here? The partying, partial nudity, gratuitous girl on girl action..."

"Nah, not really. We wouldn't set foot in here under normal circumstances, but," Xavier shrugged, "this is a special occasion."

"Yeah? Is it Reggie's birthday, or-"

"It's not for him, it's for me and the other guys out there. He promised us this if we all graduated in the top ten in our classes. As you can see," Xavier spread his palms and smirked, "we did it!"

"Wait, what?" Jasmine gave him a confused smile.

"Hell, Reggie had planned it for last weekend." He grinned at her and winked. "But his little boo thang got cold feet and, well, the rest of us just had to grin and bear it."

"What does Reggie care if you graduate college or not?" Ted asked from the leather couch across the room.

"Man, who do you think got us into college in the first place?" Xavier scoffed, as though the answer were obvious. "He wouldn't even look at us unless we agreed to go. He said we'd need it when we got older and needed to settle down. When it comes to books? Reggie don't play. But he's looking out for us so, hey, nobody's complaining."

"Looking out for you?" Ted echoed incredulously. "The man is exploiting you-"

"By giving me a steady job and a fallback for later in my life? Yeah, you're right," Xavier mocked. "Think I'll call my mama up and tell her I'm moving back in."

"Your 'job' is anything but steady," Ted argued. "Every single time you're out on the block, you are putting your life in danger-"

"From who exactly?" Xavier laughed. "The gangs? Youngins keep getting shot in their bullshit wars all the time - don't matter how sweet and innocent they are. Might as well be a man and get that money at least, e'rybody's in danger over there. And the cops? Fuck them fucking pigs! My uncle was a pastor, man. A goddamn church pastor, and he's got Parkinson's now from the beatdowns those motherfuckers gave him - and he was like you, too."

He pointed his cue stick at Ted. "On that uplifting-the-race-from-within shit. Black people are they own worst enemy with their crime and bad family values, huh? Well, look where being 'one of the good ones' got him!"

"You don't see it because you've been exposed to violence all your life," Ted explained, rising to his feet. He walked towards Xavier as he spoke. "But Reggie doesn't care about you. He's making money turning our community into junkies and drug dealers. You could just as easily be one of the fiends you deal to, it's all the same to him."

"Yeah? Then how come we're here instead, got money in our pockets, a college education and are surrounded by beautiful women? Huh? How come you're not lying face down with a bullet in your head right now?"

Jasmine, who was trying her best with Bailey to blend into the furniture, could not suppress a shiver at the graphic image. The danger Krow posed to Ted suddenly felt a lot realer.

"That's just an old IOU my father called in," Ted protested. "My father's in prison by the way, for killing a man, so it says a lot that that's the kind of company Reggie keeps-"

"Man, you are something else," Xavier blurted out, staring at Ted in disbelief. "You should be thanking God that 'that's the company Reggie keeps', it saved your life! Shit, you got no honor, do you? No wonder your girl got with Reggie instead!"

Ted charged towards Xavier then abruptly stopped when Jasmine stepped forward in front of Xavier, her hand outstretched to keep Ted at bay.

"Okay, that's enough. Let's all just calm down now."

"Karma's a bitch, huh, little man?" Xavier snarled over her head at Ted.

"I said enough!" Jasmine flared, glaring back at him. When she turned to Ted, he had already stepped back, his jaw set.

"Whatever," he fumed, before turning on his heel and striding out. Jasmine exchanged harried glances with Bailey before she ran out after him. "Ted? Ted! Wait up!"

She caught up to him just outside the den and grabbed his arm. "Ted please-"

"I am done, Jasmine!" he announced, coming to a halt. "Finished! I don't give a fuck! I'm going back to New York!"

"Back to being trapped in that little apartment?" Jasmine asked with a heavy despair. "Back to having a bull's eye on your back? Ted, Krow is out for blood, do you understand? New York isn't safe for you until he's gone!"

"I can't stay here, Jasmine. I can't, I'm sorry."

"Okay," she nodded. "Okay, we'll just go somewhere else then. Wherever you want. I'll tell Reggie to arrange it as soon as he-"

"Nooo, Jazz," he grated. "You already too deep in this mess! You should be getting your life back to normal, not asking gangsters for favors on my behalf! Christ, I've already ruined your life-"

"Ted Williams, don't you dare say that," Jasmine warned. "The only way you could ruin my life right now is if you do something dumb, like run back to certain death because you let some jackwad get under your skin. I am literally begging here. Don't. Do it."

He heard her out then he nodded, his face carefully blank. "Right. Cool. I'll just go get me a drink now."

Jasmine watched him go with a blend of frustration and helplessness. She wanted to assure him all would be well, but how could she, when they were in the same boat?

As she stood there, Xavier suddenly walked by at a quick pace, followed by Bailey.

"Reggie's here," she said to Jasmine. "Let's go say hi."

Jasmine came along but not out of any real desire to see Reggie. In the days before the trip, they hadn't had much to say to each other. With Bailey gone, his house had been a quiet, peaceful oasis for her, whether its owner was home or not.

She had been escorted to whichever arena or stadium her job called her to by Tiny, and Reggie tended to leave the house at dawn and return after she'd gone to sleep. He made no demands on her time whatsoever; in fact, they barely saw each other.

It had seemed he had no use for her gratitude or else he simply didn't expect it, for he gave her no opportunity to express it. She had not returned to his bedroom since their last night together, and as she had no intention of making a late-night visit there for any reason, they had both remained aloof.

Once the three of them were outside the front of the house, a faint whiff of cigar smoke wafted to Jasmine's nose. She turned her head towards the familiar scent and the sight she beheld knocked the breath out of her.

Despite the sun's glare reflected on their sports cars, she could see some new arrivals, middle-aged men laughing and talking among each other. One man in particular caught her eye; she'd recognize that big watch adorning that deep bronze wrist anywhere. Not so much the cream Panama hat that sat on his head.

The early evening breeze fluttered his open-necked cream shirt. A pair of light-colored slacks completed his unfamiliar look. Without a stitch of black anywhere on his person, he looked just like any rich man on holiday ready to have a good time.

He was listening to one of the men speak as he raised a cigar to his lips. Its tip glowed red before he lowered it and blew out a stream of rippling smoke. He then said something and his companions burst out laughing.

Smiling himself, Reggie turned at that moment and locked eyes with her. He appeared cool and disengaged from his friends as he watched her, making no move to acknowledge her.

Two warring impulses held her immobile as on one hand, she itched to go get her camera and capture this compelling, familiar stranger on film; she also wanted to just walk up to him, rest her hand on his chest and kiss his cheek in greeting. She didn't know which was a worse idea!

Bailey turned at that moment, her red hair brushing Jasmine's cheek. She must have caught sight of Reggie but rather than call out to him, she turned back to Jasmine in uncharacteristic silence, her curiosity palpable.

Jasmine couldn't look away, she was still fixated on Reggie. A certain recklessness in the way he tossed aside the cigar and began approaching her instantly put her on her guard. She stood rooted to the spot, breathing not at all until he got to her. When he stood towering over her, she tilted her head back, offering her lips.

Before she could question her sanity, Reggie had already bent and taken her mouth with all the entitlement of a husband. Jasmine gasped in surprise, and his tongue immediately entered her mouth to dance with hers.

She wanted to object, but there was something different to this kiss. To Reggie. She couldn't quite put her finger on it and as the kiss went on, it just got harder to think...

It was Reggie who broke off the kiss abruptly. His hands came up to support Jasmine's unsteady body as it swayed.

"Hey, Bailey, how ya doing? Damn, you lookin' fine in that dress, whooh! Enjoying the party? Sure? Great, you mind if I borrow your girlfriend for a bit? Thanks Bay, yo X! Get this lovely lady a drink, come on now," Reggie rebuked as he walked into the house.

As she was marched along, Jasmine at last found her tongue. "Wait, I can't go away. Ted and I needed to talk."

"I need to talk to him, too. Where is he?"

"Uh, he went for a drink." His brusque manner was rather intimidating.

Reggie turned to a room where the music was blaring loudest. No mincing through the crammed bodies this time, the crowd just parted for them and they strode to the mini bar. Ted stood nearby and looked up as Reggie left her side to approach him.

Jasmine had no way of knowing what was said but, for once, Reggie addressed Ted with respect. Ted listened, his eyes widened and then he broke into an amazed smile. Presently, he turned to her and as Reggie kept talking, his eyes grew distant and withdrawn.

"Oh," she saw rather than heard Ted reply.

Reggie lifted a friendly hand and Ted clapped it without hesitation, even leaning in for a half hug. He said something and Reggie, returning to Jasmine's side, looked back and said, "Don't mention it, kid. You're welcome."

"What is it?" she queried, frowning a bit.

"You and I need to talk," Reggie answered. "But not here. I told Ted, he understands."

That was no comfort. "It's not bad news, is it?"

"Absolutely not." His tone was resolute. "Look, I've got this little spot by the water, not far from here, where we can talk in privacy. It would mean a lot to me if you'd drive out there with me."

What was going on? He was being so... humble. It was strange.

"Okay," she agreed with a hesitant nod.

"Great. Let's go."

When they were barreling down the road in his Range Rover, leaving the mansion's jutting silhouette behind them in the gathering dusk, Jasmine tried to get him to open up. It was no use.

"We'll talk after dinner, sweet love. You like seafood?" Reggie asked, switching the subject.

It was frustrating, but that eased some when they arrived at his "little" place (a storied beachfront villa that, though well-kept, held an abandoned quality in the quiet air). On a terrace on the first floor, dinner was already prepared and laid out on a table for two.

Reggie held out her chair for her before taking off his hat and sitting down opposite her. They made little small talk as they ate.

"It's a lovely place," Jasmine commented as she brushed her hair out of her face yet again.

"A little windy though," he said with a rueful glance at the madly flickering candles between them.

She looked out over the turbulent blue-green waves of the sea to the west. A copper sunset blazed above the watery horizon, bathing everything in radiant shades of rose and gold: the wispy clouds above it, the isolated stretch of beach, all the way to the dancing flowers in the gardens below. Even the sleeve of her plain white tee was touched by the dying sun's glory. In the face of such cinematic beauty, it was hard to mind a little breeze.

"It's still perfect," she murmured as she turned back to him. Their eyes met and there was a pregnant pause. He then leaned back in his chair.

"I bought this place a month after I first got married," Reggie said almost at random. His gaze was intense but faraway, giving the impression his mind was elsewhere.

"Oh, so you bought it for your wife?" Jasmine asked with an encouraging smile.

"I bought it to get away from her."

Her smile fixed a little, but either he didn't notice or didn't care. He went on, "It served me as well when my second marriage hit the rocks, too. It's the one place in the world I know I can have peace, solitude, freedom to contemplate. It kinda means a lot to me."

"I see."

His gaze now warmed and he smiled at her. "You're the first woman I've brought here," he informed her. "Looks like you'll also be the last."

Her eyebrows rose. "You're being very mysterious," she remarked.

"Not at all. I've arranged for ownership of this house to be transferred to you."

That was direct enough to send her reeling. "Wait, what?! When? Why?"

"Well, God knows you could use some peace yourself, Jasmine. You've seen a lot of hell in your life," Reggie lectured. "Plus, this is a much nicer address than Bed-Stuy; think how proud your mom will be."

"Nobody just decides to give away a freakin' house," Jasmine objected. "Not like this, and not for those reasons!"

"Well, then let it be my wedding gift to you and Ted." He picked up his wineglass and drained it in one go, then set it back down. He cocked a challenging eyebrow at her. "I mean, y'all gonna jump the broom eventually, right?"

"Well..." In truth, they'd never had a first kiss let alone planned for marriage. "Yeah. Someday," Jasmine mumbled.

"Then that's settled. Guess the best man won and then some, huh?"

Jasmine just gave him a hard stare and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"One catch," Reggie smiled, seeing her skepticism. "I'd like my child raised here, in this house."

Jasmine's heart tumbled in her breast but she schooled her features to remain blank. "I'm sorry, your child?"

"And yours," he elucidated, then rushed on when she opened her mouth. "You might want to think real carefully before you make any denials. This isn't the kind of thing you want to lie about, Jasmine, not even for the sake of that insane pride you got."

He leaned closer, his eyes boring into hers, and it took all her restraint not to look away. "The day you collapsed in my house, the first thing the doctor suspected is that you're pregnant. Are you?"

"I can't be!" she retorted. "Does that make sense to you?!"

"Why not?"

"You would never touch me without protection-"

"As I recall, I actually did already," Reggie interrupted, with the wistful tone of one savoring a fond memory.

"Once! And that was after that quack doctor had left!"

"It boils down to the same thing, though, doesn't it? If you weren't pregnant before, you might be now."

It was hard to refute the logic of that statement so she just sat doggedly shaking her head while she stabbed her food with her fork.

"You'd really hate my child that much?" she heard him ask softly.

That cut Jasmine to the quick. She raised her head and glared at him, unshed tears glittering in the candlelight. "That's unfair," she charged. "You've got no right, none whatsoever, to say that to me!"

"I apologize, Jasmine; hurting your feelings isn't my intention," he said formally. "You should know I've always admired your loyalty, but we both know you'll never have any for me. When I'm gone, you're going to be responsible for our child, but you might decide you won't even bother because it's mine!"

Jasmine made an impatient gesture with her hand. "As if! We both know you'd sue the pants off me in family court if I crossed you on this!"

His eyes narrowed. "You really think I'd do that?"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't!"

"Girl, unlike Ted or your mama, loyalty to me is no burden - I reward it. And I take care of mine, regardless. But I won't be around forever," Reggie added, his voice sober.

"None of us will! Why is this even coming up now, exactly?"

In the brief silence that followed, her irritation faded to be replaced by an uneasy foreboding in the pit of her stomach. It was the same eerie premonition she'd experienced right before Ted had disappeared.

"What's going on with Krow?" Jasmine demanded abruptly.

"One of my buddies in the NYPD tells me he's been reported missing," Reggie replied. "Has been since Monday night."

Jasmine digested this news in wide-eyed shock. There was no doubt in her mind who was responsible for the disappearance. Or that Krow would never turn up alive.

"So Ted is..." She didn't dare say it aloud.

"Safe," he finished for her with a firm nod. "Yes, he is."

Her smile was elated. It was over! "Oh, Reggie!" Jasmine breathed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "He can go back to his life now."

"He can."

"And so can I!" The prospect filled her with soaring hope. "But..." She gave him a confused look.

"If Krow, uh, vanished on Monday, then there was no need for me to stay at your house all week."

His expression betrayed nothing. "I didn't know he'd gone missing till I heard it from a cop last night," he replied. "You were right to stay where you knew you were safe."




Reggie's Girl Ch. 06: The Finale



And he hadn't preyed on her dependence on him once during her stay. She gave him a wide, jubilant smile. "Oh, Reggie! Thank you, thank you so much."

"For what?" He looked genuinely puzzled by her gratitude. Jasmine decided to play along.

"For letting me stay at your house, of course. And for not taking advantage of me while I was there. God! I was so terrified. I was starting to think Krow had these powerful people backing him up."

"Oh, he did," Reggie replied mildly, and poured himself a liberal helping of white wine. "No question."

Jasmine watched him in silence as he drained his glass. He seemed calm enough but she was now certain it was a façade.

"Something's wrong," she stated. In the purplish twilight, she thought she saw him smile faintly, sadly, but couldn't be sure.

"Come inside, now, sweetheart," Reggie invited. "Let's get you out of this wind."

He rose to his feet and offered her his hand. She took it and let him lead her inside.

"I hope the place meets with your approval," he commented as he flipped on a light switch.

The place was as tasteful and exotic as his New York town house, but the designs here were Arabesque as well as African.

"The furnishings were flown here from Mombasa, in Kenya," he told her, not quite succeeding to contain the note of pride in his voice.

"I've never been," Jasmine murmured, looking around in deep appreciation.

"I'd have liked to take you someday. Cut up mangoes for you on the beach and feed them to you with my fingers," Reggie mused, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Compare the color of the ocean to those angel eyes- but I'm already biased in your favor... Get you in a thong bikini, perhaps..."

She rolled her eyes. So he was back at that again, was he? "Enough sweetness, Reg, I can't see where I'm going with all these tears in my eyes."

"I'd build a fire right there. Burn those cut-off shorts you're wearing to hide your scars, because the last thing a woman like you should feel is ashamed."

Her sarcasm immediately forgotten, Jasmine lost interest in her surroundings and stared transfixed at him as they walked up a shallow flight of stairs.

"And what would you do next?" she prompted softly.

"I'd lay you down on the sand. Take my time stripping your pretty ass bare," he murmured almost to himself, a distant smile on his lips. "Tease your beautiful body till you beg me to make you mine, in every sense of the word. I would, but you'd have to admit something first."

"Admit what?" Was that her voice? When had it turned so husky?

Reggie held the door open and let her enter first into the large bedroom. A luxuriant snow-white carpet sprawled at their feet, inviting lovemaking upon it should the bed be too far for their convenience. Teased by its softness on her toes, Jasmine slipped out of her sandals and sank her feet into the fluffy mass.

She looked up when Reggie drew her into his embrace. "Admit that you've been mine from the moment we first met."

Jasmine wanted to say she belonged to no man, but he stopped her with a sweet kiss that left her lips tingling.

"And then I'd admit that I love you," he whispered into her eyes, as they widened in astonishment. "That you own me, body and soul, and there ain't a damn thing you or I can do about it."

"Lo...?" Frowning, she shook her head in confused denial.

But underneath it ran an unstoppable current of pure joy, a euphoric triumph unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life. It was as sudden, and as intoxicating as it was frightening.

"No!"

"I love you, Jasmine," Reggie repeated with somber insistence.

"Please-"

"I love you."

"Reggie-"

"I love you!"

It wasn't possible! Why was he saying such things to her? He knew very well he didn't mean it! Even if he did, he knew she couldn't say them back, not when she had Ted-

Her ravaged emotions could take no more. Jasmine held her head in her hands and she simply burst into tears. Tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of unutterable sorrow, tears of fear and perhaps also... of love? She had no way of knowing, she was much too overwhelmed.

As always, Reggie showed amazing acceptance for her overwrought emotions. He held her to him and let her cry.

"Let it out, baby," he encouraged. "Let yourself feel it all, then let it go."

But Jasmine didn't want to feel this.

"It's too much," she sobbed into his sodden shirt collar.

"Shh, love, it's not too much for the both of us. You cry as much as you need to, I'll take it from you," Reggie assured her fiercely.

And because she believed that he could, believed that he did love her, Jasmine cried on. Once, she'd been afraid to, fearing that if she started, she'd never be able to stop bawling. He had shown her that that wasn't true. But there was still so much grief when the tears stopped, that her breath came in painful heaves.

"It's not fair," she complained, pulling back. "You shouldn't tell me you... You can't burden me with this, Reggie! I can't give you anything, I just can't!"

"I know." His tone was so devoid of expectation when he had done so much for her, that she choked up again.

"But you can at least give me your honesty. If you're carrying my child, Jasmine, I have a right to know," he stated.

"It's way too soon to tell," Jasmine snapped.

Undaunted, Reggie pressed her further still. "But you're late though? You're starting to wonder?"

She glared at him. "I've never been particularly regular! Now, could we please just leave it at that?!"

He could be such a caveman about these things! She pushed him away, needing space to soothe her ruffled sensibilities.

"You know, either way, the house is yours. I'd just prefer that you carry my child to term, then raise him - or her - here. Right. I know," he said when she lifted a trembling hand to her eyes. "It's a hell of a lot to ask. But you won't be doing it on a photographer's salary. I've set aside a substantial amount to support the both of you, drawn up a list of highly-recommended therapists in New York and Miami that you can see about your self-harm and..."

Reggie sighed and thrust his hands in his pockets. "I bought you another car," he concluded drily. "You kinda abandoned your old one." He shrugged.

"It's all set out in my will now. They're yours by legal right, or will be in due time."

Jasmine looked askance at him, disbelief etched on her features. "Your will? Did I hear that right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Why would you be writing a will, you're only 35..."

Then the blood drained from her face. It all made sense now.

"Krow's f-friends," she stammered. "The powerful ones who had his back... What are they going to do now that he's dead?"

"Revenge is the general rule of the game," Reggie answered quietly, meeting her gaze without evasion.

"They're coming for you?"

She could not believe it. Reggie McComb was an arrogant, abrasive alpha to the teeth. Not some tragic figure who surrendered to the whims of the gods. To Jasmine's admittedly overawed eyes, he was as a god unto himself, doing what he pleased on his own terms and answering to no one.

He was many, many things, but not mortal like the rest of them. Surely, not to this extent. And yet he did not gainsay her.

"Reggie!" Jasmine cried when he failed to answer her.

"Calm down, sweetheart," he cajoled at last, tucking her hair behind her ear. He smiled at her. "This isn't NYC; we're all the way in sunny Miami by the beach. What could possibly happen way out here?"

He was humoring her, she knew it. He always humored her whenever she got upset. He preferred to share no detail of his dark trade with her. But she just had to ask, even if he'd just tell her what she wanted to hear:

"You're going to be okay, aren't you?"

"No doubt," Reggie declared. He held her close once more and kissed her on the forehead. "It's all good news tonight," he murmured, running his hands over her soft body. "No sadness."

He looked her straight in the eye with that sexual confidence that always made her weak. "But if you really wanna cry, I suggest your fine ass get buck naked and hop on that bed behind you. I guarantee you'll cry some more, hun, and a lot louder."

He meant it. He bombarded her with pleasure, lavished ecstasy upon ecstasy on her, igniting her hot spots with relentless skill until she went mad. She was wild in his arms, shrieking and scratching at his beautiful dark skin.

And when he finally moved inside her, he stroked her orgasms out of her, one after the other with steady friction, aided by the fact that he wore no condom. Neither of them had remembered protection, and when they stared into each other's eyes during their simultaneous climax, neither could regret it.

The emotional intensity of the moment along with her clit, swollen and pulsing between his clever fingers, granted that he would deliver on his word. Her eyes welled up as she felt his hot seed spilling into her, giving her all of himself once more.

Driven by a need to reciprocate the only way she could, Jasmine finally took over and pushed him down into the pillows. She kissed and licked and sucked every spot on his body that gave him delight. She then demanded to be shown any she was yet ignorant of, and Reggie did not deny her.

First with her fingers, then her lips, she explored the delicate, duskier skin beneath his bulbous sac. He kept gripping and releasing her hair at her gentle probing. She explored all the way to the wrinkled rim of his anus, eliciting a deep moan.

He allowed her pinkie to slide up his rear with a gasp, writhing ever so slightly at the tiny intrusion. Then he taught her to find, and just how to massage, his prostate. She fingered the pillowy spot until his eyes drifted shut in undiluted bliss.

He might have been happy to let her carry on like that, but Jasmine was not so complacent. She didn't even know if he still enjoyed her novel boldness, still approved of it. But he didn't try to hold her back. Maybe he saw her emotions running high and wanted to indulge her.

With her tongue slurping at his puckered asshole, Reggie himself sounded half-choked as he instructed her on how to go about pleasing him. But it was her turn to be merciless in making love to him, daring to penetrate him as no other woman had.

Her reward came soon and was nothing short of glorious.

His masterful self-control imploded with startling swiftness. In ragged tones, Reggie uttered his love for her with every pearly rope his dick shot, while Jasmine hurried back up to catch his copious load in her mouth.

Even when she'd swallowed all he had to give her, she didn't stop. She remained between his trembling thighs, licking and kissing his softening organ until he groaned for her to leave his oversensitive flesh alone.

She collapsed beside him, completely out of breath when he grabbed her hair. He dragged her right back to him, then was kissing her with heartbreaking desperation, and for so long, she grew lightheaded for want of oxygen. Finally, he released her lips.

"God, I love you," she heard Reggie rasp into her hair. "I love you, Jasmine, Jesus... I love..."

Jasmine fell asleep before he finished, and perhaps Reggie, too, for that matter.

She awoke much, much later. The moon had slid across the night sky to shine its weak light through the open curtains. Her exhausted lover lay beside her, still passed out from the exertions of the night. She lifted her head from his chest and studied him moodily.

Even in his sleep, he seemed so strong. It was the one constant in this mysterious, shape-shifting figure before her. Few preconceptions about who he was had survived his unpredictability. But his indomitable strength had always been a given, whether he was criminal scum or a man of his word or hope of the hopeless.

Or the man who loved her. Proof that he could indeed do the impossible, she thought with a bitter little smile.

No, his ability to beat the odds and come out on top had never been in question - until now.

Jasmine traced the firm curve of his bicep with her finger then, allowing herself a moment's make-believe, whispered in his ear.

"If you die..." Her voice died away with a shuddering breath.

She gulped hard, then she began again almost angrily, "If you leave me alone after you took such good care of me, I'll never forgive you, Reggie McComb. I'll hate you forever, you hear?"

He did not. Not an eyelid flickered as he slept on, his breathing deep and regular.

"But if you want my loyalty?" Jasmine whispered, stroking his hair. "If you want to make love to me on a tropical beach and hear me say I love you back? You'll be here when this baby is born."

And with that, she turned to contemplate the dark blue wall on her side. She listened to the ceaseless sigh of the surf outside as she waited for sleep. Beside her, Reggie stirred after a moment, searching for her lost warmth.

Jasmine felt him draw up behind her, then wrap his arm around her waist before he went back to sleep.

As the seconds ticked by, his steady heartbeat at her back conspired with the rush of the ocean to lull her. Her own eyelids grew heavy and slowly fluttered shut. They opened wide again at the single word she heard whispered in her ear. "Deal."