An image of Gino and that curly hair on his chest jumped into my mind, and I squeezed suds over my breasts then teased my nipples, pretending it was him who was touching me. Now my hands were everywhere. Down my stomach, between my legs, gripping my own ass, and then finally two fingers found my clit and slid deeply into my wet pussy.
I fingered myself deeply as the water beat down on me and the bubbles swirled over my body. My juices were so thick and hot I almost fainted as my hand moved faster and faster, stroking my clit and rubbing my slick insides, pretending my hand was Gino’s dick. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth as I came, my whole body shaking, my ass pressed against the shower wall, and the feel of Gino’s body playing with my mind.
I calmed down under the water and washed my hair, then soaped my skin again and let the hot water wash me clean. I wrapped a towel around my head and another one around my body before putting my robe back on. I made sure my shit was tight before opening the door, but when I went out there Gino wasn’t even in the room. I felt a little disappointed as I slammed the door that connected our rooms and went to get dressed.
G was done with his soak and was laying in the bed with his knees up and a pillow underneath his ass. He didn’t look nothing like the bad-ass King of Harlem who ruled niggers with just a glance. I turned my back and lotioned my body, then put on one of my new bikinis under my clothes, a pair of red denim Chanel shorts and a matching red and white cotton shirt. I had bought a pair of red Reebok flip-flops from 125th Street, so after rubbing some oil in my hair and pulling it back in a ponytail, I grabbed my shades and a beach towel and I was set.
“Bye, G,” I said, leaning over to give him a hug.
“Uh-huh.” He brushed his hand across my back twice then pushed me away. “Gone now.”
“I hope you feel better.”
“Yeah. Gone.”
I closed the door and jetted.
As soon as I got a glimpse of Gino, G’s whole asshole could have fallen out for all I cared. Gino was waiting for me downstairs at the desk. The hotel lobby was busy with people running back and forth in all directions. Tourist central. Gino looked damn good. A baby blue Roc-A-Wear shirt and a pair of denim shorts that showed his muscular, slightly bowed legs. Fresh kicks, a diamond ring, smooth dark skin, and a Colgate smile. He was all that.
“Yo,” he said, checking out my red shorts. “The driver is outside, so let’s hustle.”
A young Hawaiian guy who was almost as brown as me was waiting next to a white showroom-fresh Infinity SUV. His hair was straight and he had on a bright dolphin shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.
“Aloha!” He had a lei made of fresh flowers in his hands and I bent my head and let him slip it around my neck. Dude’s name was Justin and he had been in Hawaii all his life. He told us he’d never even been to what he called the mainland and tried to talk us to death asking questions about New York. Finally he got behind the wheel and me and Gino settled into the back of the SUV as Justin took off driving toward Waikiki Beach, pointing out tourist sights to us the whole time. We saw houses that belonged to movie stars and professional basketball players, all the latest cars, and beaches along what had to be the bluest water in the world.
I wasn’t a swimmer, and the only beaches I had ever been on were Coney Island and Jones, but even so I could tell how special the beach at Waikiki was. We had a lot of stuff to see so we didn’t have time to stay and swim, but I did get out and take off my flip-flops and walk around and feel the sand between my toes. The beach was packed with bodies colored bronze by the sun. People were fishing and surfing and playing volleyball left and right, and little kids was running around kicking sand and splashing in the ocean. I went right down to the edge of the water and put my feet in and I was really surprised to see how warm it was.
Gino got out of the car, too, and I guess when he saw me start walking in one direction, he headed the opposite way. There was definitely a charge running back and forth between us. I wasn’t gonna be the first to acknowledge it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. I knew when a man was feeling me. I busted those sly looks at my ass and thighs when he thought I wasn’t looking, because I was checking him out the same way. When I got back to the SUV I leaned against the bumper and tried to brush the sand off my feet while watching him walk back toward the car. He was even taller than G, I realized. Taller and finer.
“All this beautiful weather,” I commented, fucking with him. “And you didn’t even take off your shirt, let alone your sneaks,” I said as he climbed back in the Infinity. “Don’t be so uptight. Can’t feel the Hawaiian sand through your shoes.”
“Who said I’m uptight? Maybe I’m just principled. Not everybody believes in coming out their clothes just like that.”
Boy had it twisted. He must have thought I was some stripper G had dragged in off the stage. I got in the back and put on my seat belt. “Seems to me you’d be down for that type of action, running back home to work at the Spot and all.”
He stared at me. “Let’s go ahead and get this straight real quick. I don’t know you, and you don’t know shit about me. Whatever your thing is with G, I’m sure it’s either slimy or grimy-which is cool, ’cause it ain’t none of my business. But I didn’t come back to New York because I wanna be at the G-Spot, Juicy. Just because that’s how you get down, don’t put it on me.”
Justin interrupted. “Next stop, the windward coast! In less than an hour we’ll be nearing Chinaman’s Hat, and after that it’s taking pictures at the world’s most beautiful lagoon!”
Both of us igged him so hard it wasn’t funny.
“I’m not a stripper, Gino. I’m not a ho either. I don’t work the stage or the rooms, so don’t make no assumptions about how I get down.”
He smirked at me like I was lying.
“For real. G takes care of me, that’s true. But I don’t get down like you think. I’m in college, for your information. I’m a fashion designer and I’m studying for a business degree.”
“Well maybe you’re smarter than you look then. G put me through school, too, and that’s why I came back. Since he paid for my piece of paper he figures I owe him, and helping him open another Spot is how he wants to be repaid.”
I frowned. “Another Spot? Get the fuck out of here.”
“Yep.” Gino nodded, looking out the window. “In Baltimore. He’s already got Jersey locked in, even without a Spot. So now G wants to train a few loyals to slide down to Baltimore and expand his operation.”
“Damn,” I muttered. “Like father, like son.”
“What you mean? I’m my own man. As soon as G opens in B-More, I’m out. It’s back to the West Coast for me. I’m an architect, sugar. I’m about building my people up, not about having my sisters selling their ass to buy dope.”
“So why are you even helping him then? When you lay down with dogs, you get up with fleas. If you’re all about being positive, then why are you here?”
“Why the hell are you here, Juicy? G’s my father, but what’s your goddamn excuse? So what he kicks out the bank. He does that for all his hoes. Yeah, you’re probably the first one he let go to college, but that doesn’t mean you’re smart. Smart would be getting out there and doing you for a living instead of letting a playa like G control you until he takes over your whole life.”
I shook my head. “I’m my own woman, too,” I lied, making shit up as I went along. “G doesn’t own me. After I graduate, I’m outta here. I’m taking my little brother and going someplace where I can design a clothing line and Jimmy can get a decent job and maybe we can buy us a little house. I’m not down for the game either.”