Sharon and Justin's own Cruella Deville has busted their little cocoon with a bomb of her own. And the emotional shrapnel has nipped in the bud their newly formed bond. How will Justin fix the damage?

Justin couldn't believe his luck tonight. It'd been a long time since he talked with a woman. Really talk. Disconcerting as it was, he enjoyed Sharon's company more than he wanted to. But if the way to a man's heart was through his stomach than for a woman it's to merely listen. Both his mothers taught him that.

So that was what he did. He listened to the words that came out of her pretty mouth. He also listened to what her body was saying. And he knew, that said she was enjoying herself as much as he. That she desired him as much as he for her. It boiled underneath. Unabated and waiting. More likely for him to make the first move because for whatever reason she couldn't. It just depended on the right timing.

It was in that moment, Sharon leaned towards him, her pink tongue darting across her lips. She looked as if she wanted to tell him something. Justin sent a silent prayer the words 'let's go to my place' would spill from her mouth. Her mouth, he couldn't stop staring at those full lips. The bottom slightly plumper than the top. His mind had often strayed to the thought of tasting them again and imagining them around his cock. But that will come later. First he had to taste her. First, he thought as he met her halfway, he had to give her what she wanted but couldn't say. He had to get them out of there and to the nearest bed or a wall.

"Unfuckingbelievable. Justin Boyd. It's really you!"

What the fuck? What now?

Annoyed at the interruption, Justin looked up at the woman hovering behind Sharon and was floored. What was she wearing? Some fishnet stocking outfit over her undies?!

He had no idea who she was and how she knew his name. But one thing he knew was that he'd never sleep with her. She wasn't his type. The type that tries too hard to be sexy and end up crossing over to prostitute territory. If he didn't know better Justin swore she was auditioning for Rupaul's Drag Race. Maybe he/she never made it onto the show. Never know who or what you'll pick up in a club. Especially, if it's D.C.

"Sorry," said Justin. He grabbed Sharon's hand and almost flinched to how ice cold they felt in his hands. "Me and my girl leaving."

His eyes narrowed on the emotions racing across her face. Shock, dread and anger. Whoever the woman was, she rubbed his woman the wrong way. Something primeval woke inside Justin. He wanted to protect her from whatever that'll upset and hurt her. And this woman staring at him like a starving succubus had hurt her. He'd never hit a woman but he had no problem putting her in her place.

He stood up, gently grabbed her elbow and tucked her into his side. He turned back to the woman and nodded his goodbye but before his head tipped back up, she'd latched on to his free right arm like mold to bread.

"Oh come on Justin," she slurred, batting her fake eyelashes up at him. "Stop playing. You remember me. We went to Saint Francis. You were dating my friend before you transferred."

Justin still had no clue who she was. She could've been related to the Kardashians and he still wouldn't know. He was too busy trying to detach his arm. The girl was part leach, part arm wrestling champion. It wasn't until she sneered when she said friend he'd stopped.

A memory of a skinny girl following his girlfriend at the time shimmered into his mind. He couldn't remember her name. But he did remember how he'd never liked her. She was a follower. A Pettigrew. That's what his daught- Angelisa- would call her.

"Come on. Don't go." She pincered his arm so tight it almost went numb. "We can make it a special reunion just the two of us. Or three if you want. I don't mind."

Justin didn't think it possible but Sharon stiffened even more at his side when Latasha -that's her name - roped her into an impromptu threesome. Fuck, how did everything go so wrong? One minute he had the attention of the sexiest, most beautiful in the room. Who was now acting if she was struck by Medusa. And the venomous female responsible was salivating all over him like he was her first meal she had in years.

Upset that the night was quickly ending not the way he wanted, he growled, wrenched his arm free and opened his mouth to tell her off.

But the surprises for the night weren't done yet. Latasha tilted her head and ogled Sharon in confusion. Seconds later, her mouth dropped open in a circle. Arms outstretched, she swayed, pointed straight two paces from Sharon, her voice going an octave higher and higher. "Omigod. The Butch of Saint Francis?"

Justin looked back and forth between the two women. Gorgon and goddess. Both were in a state of shock. One woman puffed up in indignation like a blowfish. The other grew as pale as a Twilight vampire. Confused, Justin wondered how they knew each other when Latasha said, "You turned femme!?"

And with those three words, Justin's dream of entangled bodies, rolling and thrusting into each other died. Sharon shrugged out of his embrace, nose flaring and eyes flashing like she wanted to cut someone or two, she said goodbye. Then without a backwards glance, whipped out her phone from her clutch and disappeared onto the same path as Terrell and Kim.

He went after her or would've if Latasha hadn't grabbed and pulled him back to her side. "Forget about her. She's not into dicks anyway. You said so."

Pissed the fuck off at the way his night was ending he almost missed what she said. He whirled around, grasped her arms and held her away from him. "What the fuck did you say?"

Her eyebrows flew to her hairline, what's left of it. The drunken haze quickly faded from her eyes as she shivered in fright. He didn't care. Justin was going to find out what she meant by saying that?

"The fuck you say? I said what?"

"Y-you said she was a l-lesbo." The woman's insane. Punch drunk talking out her ass insane. He'd never met Sharon until two days ago. And because of some woman he went to school with, that he never liked, all the progress he made tonight just went down the fucking drain. "What? I interrupt some Maury 'I'm sorry I bullied you in school' thing?-"

"Stop the bullshit. I never met or said...:" Images of the same little girl floated at the edges of his memory. A blurry picture of a girl in maroon and grey uniform, baubles in her plaited hair. She smiled and the picture became clearer with every micro lift of her mouth. He compared the smile to Sharon's and felt as if he was it in his solar plexus.

How the fuck he never noticed? How long did she know who he was? When he walked through her door? Heard his name? No, he remembered the look of shock before she hid behind her cool facade. The same icy wall, to make Elsa proud.

He thought she wanted to deny the sexual tension between them. No. It was because of some stupid, fucked up rumor. How the hell's he gonna fix this?

Less drunk than before but still drunk enough to continue her flirtation, Latasha sidled up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, splaying her hand on his abs. "Offer stands. Come over to my place?"

Disgusted, with himself and her, he detangled out her grasp and pushed her way away. "No. Have to find Sharon. Bye Latasha."

"It's Latonya!" Latonya swept her arms to the side. And stared at him as if he told her she couldn't return the Prada shoes because it was obvious she'd worn them. "You remember that carpet muncher's name but not mine?"

He shrugged and rushed off to find Sharon as Latonya after his back, "Fuck you Justin!"

It'd probably be the only time he'd agree with her. If he couldn't find her and make things right tonight, fuck him indeed.

***

"Where the hell are you?" Sharon had searched everywhere inside the club but Kim was nowhere to be found. Terrell either. Figures. He was her type.

Now she was standing outside the club wishing Kim would energize right in front of her. Hard to choke her through the phone otherwise.

Music blared in the background through the phone and Sharon wondered where Kim could be hiding. If she couldn't find her, she'll make her best friend - formerly depending on how long it took - come to her.

"Terrel and I are in negotiations," replied Kim.

"Negotiations? Over what?"

"Tell you later. Right now we're at another club. Enjoy your night with Justin. I want details."

Sharon could hear Kim's eyebrows wiggling up and down. Having sex with Justin? Not gonna happen. She'd rather let Kim set her up on a blind date. Maybe that electrician guy she was supposed to meet tonight.

She turned right and walked towards the parking lot down the block. "No. I'm going home. I'm walking to the garage now."

"No-no-no, you can't." Sharon stopped. The butterflies that were fluttering in her stomach pre-Latonya became hopping frogs of dread. "You can't."

"Why not," she whispered. "Why not?"

"Let Justin drive you home."

"Kim what are you up to?"

"Nothing." Sharon snorted. Yeah right. That same nothing left her stranded with no escape, worse she hadn't wanted to, until hurricane Latonya came. "Just that..."

"That what?"

"We took your car."

"You what?" She must've heard wrong. Definitely. Or hallucinating.

"We took your car," repeated Kim, sounding a little too blasé about it. "You wanna go home, have Justin take you home. Then let him take you home."

"Kim."

"What? This is your chance to make your childhood wish come true. Have him give you a ride and then ride that sucka. What's the problem?

"Problem is I don't want to." This time Kim snorted. "Either bring back my car or I'm calling Uber."

"Fine, fine." Kim breathed a huge sigh.

"Thank you." Sharon started to walk back to the club entrance.

"I'll make Terrell ask Justin to ride you. Yo, Terry!"

Sharon tried to stop Kim but she'd already hanged up. Frantic, her heart sped up zero to sixty in one second. She slid her finger across the screen of her phone and tapped on Kim's number. It went straight to voicemail.

Damn. She tried again. Double damn. The third time wasn't a charm and she felt a headache coming on. Right about now, she imagined Kim laying it on thick, begging Justin to be her chauffeur. Good luck to her. He's probably busy having his lips sucked off like an industrial vacuum by Latonya's fat injected monster lips. She never forgotten the woman, hard not to, but her lips screamed she had work done. In fact they were wailing 'I'm addicted to cosmetic surgery.'Then she had the nerve to use lip liner and black lipstick.

Though she didn't want to, Sharon couldn't shake the mental image of the two of them kissing. Her stomach roiled and threatened to trample up her stomach, through her esophagus and onto the sidewalk. She couldn't figure out why she felt so unsettled. Nauseous. As if she was being cheated on.

Ridiculous. Justin was nothing to her. Nothing but a douche bag who got off hurting little girls. And she had to remember that. An evening of pleasant and fun conversation shouldn't have changed that. But it did. Testament to how charming he still was and how careful she must remain.

Forget it. And forget him. Besides, the chances he'll give up his chance for the free skanky pussy Latonya was throwing at him over driving her home was nil.

Shaking her head Sharon did as she threatened Kim and waited for her ride. Her Uber driver was about five minutes away. Lucky for her as she saw a black sedan driving up just as Justin had to arrive near her elbow.

"Sharon. Glad I found you. Look..."

"Don't bother," said Sharon, side stepping around him and darted towards the approaching car as fast as her heels would let her. "I got a ride. Tell Kim not to worry."

"Wait. What?" Justin followed her and reached for her hand. Of course, her heart dived and somersaulted from her ribs down to her toes. She looked down to their hands, his eclipsed hers, yet they fit just right. More right than she'd ever felt in years. Since she gave birth to her son CJ. "You need to listen to me. Let me explain."

Explain what? That she's being stupid again, getting worked up from holding hands. No, she had to stop these feelings. That he has has no effect on her. Even if she had to fake it to make it.

She wrenched her hands from his and ignored how she immediately felt cold. "No explanation needed. Nice seeing you again. And enjoy Latonya. Good night."

Before he could stop her, she dashed the rest of the way and jumped into the back of the car. Breathless, she told the driver her address and hoped to god he had some Dom genes in his genetic makeup. She needed to get away as far from Justin as fast as possible. And furious.

It's a little short but I'm back to writing dual POV in a chapter again. But it seemed right to go back to this format for the next few chapters. Anyways, Sharon has remembered why she needs to stay away from Justin. After all, sharing, talking and laughing together with a man, doesn't change the fact that he'd hurt her in the past.

SMH, poor guy. How will Justin convince her she got it all wrong? If only he could turn back the hands of time. Maybe left earlier, before Latasha/Latonya came over? Feel so bad for him, that I'm dedicating R. Kelly's "If I Could Turn Back the Hands of Time."

https://youtu.be/VsOPVCK745I