SAINT BAPTISTE 2 | Unedited

Chapter one

naoki

“Another one?”

I leaned up on my elbows and tossed my head back. “Uh huh.”

Soon after, my mouth was filled with the auburn tinted tequila that stung on the way down my throat. I was offered a lemon wedge. Pushed it away the minute I felt it touch my lips. I didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. I didn’t want the liquor diluted. I wanted to taste it. Needed to. Needed to feel... something. Because, the minute I laid back down and their hands were on me again, I felt nothing. All over again. Where were the fireworks? Where were those tingles? Those chills? The excitement? The... everything? Why couldn’t I feel them? I mean, actually feel them?

 For a second, I wondered if it could’ve been the liquor throwing my senses off but naw, it wasn’t. Liquor with the right man, always went straight to my pussy. It wasn’t that I couldn’t feel them. I felt them. I felt every single stroke of their calloused hands across my smooth skin. I just.. I couldn’t feel them. Not where it counted. Not the way he made me feel. However, I suffered through it.

Yes. Suffered.

The touching, without feeling... it was repulsive.

Years ago, I would have been thrilled to finally be inside of thee Pandora’s. Shit, I would have been on my knees with three dicks beating against my smiling face the minute we walked into the room. It would have been dick sliding down my throat instead of liquor. Wouldn’t have needed it to feel anything. That was years ago though. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I mean... I thought I was. Walked in feeling like her. Commanded the room, like her. Did what Fun girl Kiki used to do—made niggas drool and succumb with no effort. I had that extra boost in confidence. That extra umph in my step..

However, the minute I walked off that beautiful elevator the realization of where I was headed hit me and fun girl Kiki left. It didn’t take me long to realize that she was just another mask. A mask I found at the bottom of the liquor I polished off hours prior. I wasn’t in the right space to handle this. I wasn’t ‘her’ anymore.

I needed to end it.

Needed to tell them to stop.

Needed to push them away.

Needed to find him.

But then I remembered...

I wouldn’t have come here if he hadn’t done what he’d done. He... she touched him. She put her mouth in places... on him. He—he gave himself to her... in front of me. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t stop. Because he’d win, and he couldn’t win. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t show him how much he’d hurt me, even if me proving that meant hurting myself more.

Life didn’t make sense anymore. I didn’t make any sense. Nothing did. I didn’t feel like myself.  Sadly, it was because I wasn’t. I was a stranger, watching from the outside. Watching as the life of this poor sad girl spiraled out of control. She was crumbling. Completely. And instead of helping her, I just watched the destruction. Watched as ‘this girl’ did the opposite of everything she wanted to do. Watched as she continued down a very slippery slope of self-destruction, further and further away from the person she wanted to be. Further and further away from the life she really wanted to live.

Vulnerability had never been good for her. It was easier to wear masks. Easier to pretend she was happy. However, the identity of the fun girl was the easiest. Was. Not anymore. Tonight, she realized more than ever that she couldn’t be her anymore. That identity no longer served her. That mask... the slutty, seductive one made up with sexy bright pink ‘come fuck me’ lipstick, and bold makeup was deteriorating. The material, it was chipping away. Wilting. She couldn’t wear it anymore. It broke away the minute the door to the VIP suite she actually wanted to share with him, closed. But do you think they noticed? Of course not. She didn’t even look alive. You think they noticed her crumbling? The way he would have? No. They couldn’t see her. They didn’t look at her the way he did. They were just doing what she told them to do. Fuck her. However, that wasn’t what she really wanted.

She wanted him to save her.

She wanted him to grip her by the chin and correct her. But... he didn’t. He... he gave himself... parts of him that belonged to her... to that bitch... in front of her and.... and... made her... made me... do this. Made me crumble.

“Damn you smell good,” said one of three, with his face buried into the side of my neck. He had the voice of the one who’d fed me liquor. I didn’t know his name. Didn’t know the names of any one of them, honestly. I just picked them.

When we walked into Pandora’s, people did what people always did when I walked into rooms.

Gravitated.

Toward me. Men and women. I was fucking infectious. Men loved me and well, women did too. But women I was always leery of. For good reason. Their attraction was usually based off insecurities. However, one thing I noticed almost immediately about the women of Pandora’s was that they had a certain ‘thing’ about them. That ‘thing’ that made it easy to tolerate a conversation with them. They were free. Sexually liberated and confident. They had the bad bitch aura, too.

Rue, the thick fine ass dark skin bad bitch who blessed me with this suite, especially. I told her I had a one-day pass and twenty minutes later, she came back with a key to a VIP suite and told me to have a fucking ball. When she gave me the key, my first thought was Saint. Sadly. In the back of my mind, somewhere beneath all of the ego, I foolishly hoped he’d get his mind right and fuck me into submission. But he had other plans, apparently. He wanted to play games. Silly, amateur games of checkers. And well, I decided to play chess.

While he foolishly got his dick sucked by a botched body bitch, I walked around Pandora’s and hand-picked three of the finest men by running my hand up the middle of their pants. But see, realistically, I didn’t want to play chess. I didn’t want to play games at all. What I truly needed, only he could provide. But I hated him. I couldn’t tell him I needed him. Couldn’t be soft. Refused to be vulnerable. However, I didn’t have to be vulnerable with him. He could see me. Through me. Soul deep. Saint knew... he knew I needed him. He just... He just didn’t care.

I took a deep breath.

Focus, Kiki.

Closing my eyes, I tried to enjoy the kisses on my neck. His lips were soft. His short, thick beard, scruffy. And he smelled nice. That was a plus. However, the one between my legs annoyed me so got damn bad. The prickly hairs on his five o’clock shadow dragged against the skin of my smooth legs with every kiss he made up them. The other one, he was passionate. Passionate, unrushed, and selfless. He made sure to spend an equal amount of time on both nipples as he gave them soft, delicate, wet kisses.

When the one between my legs ran his hand up my thigh, pushing my mini dress higher than it already was, I sucked in a gust of air and held on to it. My heart raced. Literally pounded against my chest. I needed to leave. Wanted to. But I couldn’t move. However, if I wasn’t pinned to the bed by that paralyzing fear, I still wouldn’t be able to leave. At this point, I was trapped. I’d come too far to tell them to stop, hadn’t I? Not because I cared that much about ‘winning’ some stupid game I never wanted to play to begin with. I couldn’t leave because I invited them here. Whispered freaky shit in their ears, promised them head and toe curling, mind-blowing, orgasms. Told them they could use me, and cum all over the titties they couldn’t stop drooling over. I literally put my pussy on a serving dish for them. Shit... Gift wrapped it for them too, with a nice little bow and all. Just to take it away? Just to tell them to stop?

I couldn’t.

So... I relaxed. Lived through the discomfort and arched my back, leaning toward the one sucking my titties. At least he took his time. At least he knew what the fuck he was doing. If only he could make me feel beyond the surface he would be good enough.

Seconds later, the one at my necked moved. Decided to share my titties with his friend. I didn’t have to look down to know which one he was on because they felt distinctively different.

“Ay, Baptiste. You know the rules man, you can’t be doing this shit.”

I swallowed at the mention of his name and closed my eyes.

That Baptiste had to be my Baptiste, right? How many Baptiste men could there really be at a place like this? Walking the same hall I walked, headed in the direction of the room I was in?

It was him.

 Had to be. I felt it. He was coming. Finally. For a second, I thought he’d left. I thought what I’d done had been too much. Thought after seeing me with them, he abandoned me and left me to fend for myself. He could’ve. If he would’ve, I would have had to accept that. But he hadn’t. And my God, I was so grateful.

“Save me,” I whispered, barely moving my lips.

“What was that baby? Taste you?” Asked the one between my legs, slightly slurring over his words.

I didn’t say anything.

In response, I pulled my knees closer together, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t. He gripped my thighs and placed kisses on my calves, while his friends continued to attack my nipples. I laid there... frozen, waiting. Hoping... praying that when Saint walked in he saw me. Truly. And this time, he’d choose to save me instead of ignore me the way he had earlier.

At the sound of the brass doorhandle rattling, my heart began to thump heavier against my heaving chest. My breath got caught up in my throat as I peered at the tall, black door, through the small slit in my cracked lids. I gripped the bunched-up sheets beneath me as panic gushed through my entire being, afraid that he wouldn’t see me.

If he walked into the room and did that thing... if he looked at me with those eyes... those, piercing fuckers that saw through the depths of me, I’d be okay with that. I’d—It would be okay. But, I just... I wasn’t sure he’d see me. And that scared me. Because if there was a time that I needed him to see me most, it was now.

I looked down at them and noticed how they just, kept at it. It was almost as if they were in a trance. I had one on each titty, with their eyes closed lazily swirling their thick wet tongues around my nipples. While the one between my legs continued his slow trail of soft kisses up them, inching closer to the inside of my upper thigh.

My heart began to pound. Literally race.

Why...why hadn’t they stopped? Why didn’t they care? Did they not hear what was going on? Did they not hear what I had? The doorknob rattling? The mention of his name? A name that was well-known through Pandora’s? Maybe... Maybe I was hallucinating? Was I tripping? Had I fuckin’ imagined it?

The room started to spin a bit as the multiple shots of tequila began to hit me at once. I was tripping. Losing my grip with reality.

“The fuckin’ key,” Saint demanded, that Haitian accent thick, drenched heavily with anger.

“Ay! This room is occupied!” Yelled the one who’d been on my titties first. “Fuck goin’ on around—”

Before he could say another word, the door suddenly opened. The bald one stopped the trail of kisses up my thigh and the slithery tongue swiping against my cold nipples came to a halt. Everything stopped and they were on their feet within seconds.

So, I wasn’t imagining things. This... it was real.