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⌞C H E S T E R⌝
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⌞♠⌝     The lights of the large private suite outside filtered into the car, casting an eerie golden glow that only heightened my anxiety. My mind was spinning, still reeling from my mother's harsh message. Her disappointment had cut deeper than I wanted to admit. 

"Chess? Are you okay?"

Mindelyn's sweet whisper brought me back to our conversation. I lifted my brow and tried to play it cool. "Yes, of course. What made you think otherwise —"

My sentence was cut short when the young lady reached over, her delicate fingers gently tousling my hair. I froze and probably stopped breathing. She was so close that I could feel every warm breath of hers and watch the steady rise and drop of her chest.

"That's better. I wouldn't want to walk around with bed hair," Mindy whispered more to herself than to me, retracting her hand. She flashed me her angelic smile, then retreated to her seat, asking again, "On a more serious note, if something important has come up, you can leave, and ... I suppose we can call it a night."

I was at a loss for words. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. The sudden show of affection with her mild expression of concern and disappointment rendered me speechless, making my cheeks ablaze.

She took the opportunity to explain, "When you looked at your phone, the corner of your lip twitched just like my friend's does when he doesn't like something he's just heard or seen. And then you covered your face."

Recovering from the daze, I shook my head. "I did that?"

"Mhm." A stray curly lock brushed her nose as she nodded. "I understand if you need to go."

That was the last thing I needed to do. Loneliness then was a recipe for self-sabotage and would drive me to do other things I'd regret. I needed a strong distraction, and something deep down told me it needed to be Miss Suberson.

"No. It's alright." I smiled back at her, trailing off, "It's just..."

There was no way I could tell her what was bothering me. If I did, I'd have to explain the recent scandal, and that didn't look good for a first impression – or any impression, for that matter.

So, I flat-out lied, "It's just some work stuff, and it's been extremely stressful lately. You know how that is?"

"Yeah, work..." A deep sadness filled her eyes as their gaze fell on her twiddling fingers. She appeared troubled, and that concerned me.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Chuckling, she clasped her hands before turning to face me.  "Are any of us ever really okay?"

Her voice, tinged with a deep sorrow I didn't think she could display before, took me back fifteen years to Michigan. I remembered a nine-year-old girl I met in Rosa Park while escaping from some annoying relatives. Snowflakes crowned her braided head as she sat on the sidewalk, looking like a beautiful doll yet radiating the sorrow of a grieving mourner. Seeing Mindelyn now, with that same American spirit and melancholy, brought that bittersweet memory rushing back.

The coincidence was uncanny because that little girl had said the same thing. However, unlike then, I had the courage to respond. With a reassuring grin, I said, "My grandmother and the Bible said it's possible, so I damn hope so."

"She sounds wiser than most and stronger too," expressed the young lady.

"She is." The heaviness of my heart lightened a little. "Yeah, Ouma is the very definition of strength."

Miss Suberson studied my face, searching for something, before adding, "Until that time arrives, the least you can do is talk about them with someone." 

Her genuine concern for me triggered a strange, warm sensation in my stomach. However, before it led my mind anywhere, I squashed it like a revolting bug, yet teased, "Am I not talking about it right now?"

She rolled her eyes with an impressed grin. "Ugh. Do you always need to have the last word?"

"Blame my father, my lady. Oh, and thanks for fixing my hair earlier," I said, running my hand through it.

My cheeks were still on fire. I needed to make sure she never unexpectedly touched me like that again. It was making me have all kinds of strange emotions.

"You're welcome." She beamed, showing her shiny white teeth for the first time. Her canines were longer than usual and made her come off as an adorable vampire. Like an antique shop, I kept discovering something about her; her charms were endless.

As the night progressed, I grew a strong desire to compliment every little detail of hers. From her soft hands, stubby arms, and ample hips to her full breasts, big eyes, and tempting lips, I yearned to envelop her in a hug and never let go.

Then, there was her unusually fascinating character. Though dangerously risky and highly self-conscious, she was also funny, intelligent, kindhearted, sassy, and one heck of a strong fighting spirit. I could see how Johan or any man could fall for her. Her soft but amiable presence was magnetic.

As her smile mirrored my own, I couldn't help but wonder how many romantic relationships she had had. It was a rare occurrence, considering I had never entertained the notion of romantic relationships. The mere thought of them was enough to make me gag. However, being with this woman and relishing her presence had made me mildly curious about the idea.

However, as a realist, I knew this little meeting of ours would be one of very few she could fit in her week here in South Africa. Any relationship between us would be difficult to implement into our lives with our busy schedules, cultural differences, and other things. Fate had already decided she would fly back to America while I ran my soon-to-be empire in Africa.

Knowing that each second would be our last, the least I could do was let her know she was a blue diamond among a sea of coal. So, I cleared my throat and was ready to express my thoughts. However, before I could say a thing, she punched me in the gut with another argumentative comment.

"Mr. Nel, concerning my reason for going on this date with you, I just don't feel like you're in a place to act all high and mighty when you joined the app with the same incentive."

An app? Huh?

It was her first time mentioning this mysterious application. Which one was she talking about? Naturally, I knew it had to be a dating one, but that left me more in the dark. You see, unlike my acquaintances and friends, dating apps were never a thing for me because I was just fortunate enough to get whatever woman I wanted at any time I desired.

I narrowed my eyes for what I felt was the hundredth time in that conversation. "Do you mind jogging my memory here? Which app was this again?"

Her eyes doubled in size. "Dear God. How many dating apps are you on?"

None. To be honest.

In my circle, dating apps were for people who were socially inept or trashy. You'd never catch the real me on such a thing. However, it seemed that Johan's compelling impersonation and impressive identity theft skills made it appear otherwise.

"A few. I get bored easily," I fibbed.

Another harmless lie wouldn't hurt her. I needed to be as convincing as possible. I needed answers.

"You paid $3500 for a diamond account on Fever Flings out of mere boredom?" Incredulity made her jaw drop slightly.

Wow, Johan. Of all apps, it had to be Fever Flings! 

By word of mouth, that app was garbage. Not only did the name sound like a fast-food dating disaster, it only attracted pretentious, rich asses and was a breeding ground for gold-digging or equally affluent, snotty whores. It was by pure luck Johan matched with someone half as decent as Miss Suberson. Dare I even say, a miracle.

No wonder the lady looked at me like I had a dick for a nose. That was such a waste of money. Her jaw drop was more than reasonable. I probably would have done the same thing if I didn't need to pretend that I was behind that fake profile.

"Yeah, I did, and so did you," I reminded her.

"Yeah, but I didn't pay! Blake did, thankfully," she specified, making me distrust her friend even more. He was, without a doubt, a pimp and as much to blame as Johan in this mess.

By the increasing volume of her statements and pursed lips, I could tell this was starting to get too personal for her. With a sigh, I unfolded my arms and suggested, "Mindy, let's put this behind us and allow me to take you to your room."

God must have hit snooze on our conversation's effective translation function because she misunderstood my intentions and started arguing with me again. "No, you dared to paint me as the bad guy earlier when you signed up for the same thing."

"I never painted you as a villain, Miss Suberson," I clarified, questioning how my life had gotten to this point and if getting laid was worth it. "And I apologize if I hurt your feelings on the matter."

"That's not a proper apology," she huffed with the folding of her arms and a fierce frown.

Woman, what? I shook my head and slumped back in my seat, brooding. Jesus, take the wheel.

"You know what, Mr. High-and-Mighty? I'm going to show you something." She dug into her small gold purse and pulled out her phone. Her finger viciously swiped at the device for seven seconds before she threw it at me.

The screen displayed my profile. It included a portrait of me taken a few years ago in my final year in university and a brief description that read: 'Looking for some fun for a night or two. Nothing serious ;). So, if you are up for the challenge, my messages are wide open.'

A part of my dignity died reading that. Was that how Johan thought I sounded every time I opened my mouth? At the very least, he could've added some class to my profile and skipped the cringeworthy smirking emoji.

"See. You only do hookups," the cute but very frustrated woman before me confirmed with a sassy bob of her head. "That was how we matched. Sex was part of the deal."

Everything was starting to add up now. Johan created an account on this dating app in my name to lure her in. She — no, correction — her 'friend' had been communicating with him the whole time, thinking it was me. The poor girl was as clueless as me, and here I sat, convinced for the past two and a half hours that she was part of his grand scheme when, in reality, she was the puppet. Had I just thought it was a genuine date and gone through with it as he had planned, she would have been used to mop up my mess.

Wow. This brazen bastard was ready to use an innocent pawn to be ripped apart by the public, and yet I am the one labeled as a dick.

"I hear you, Min." I clicked my tongue in frustration. "So, are these still your intentions?"

Her angry and defensive demeanor crumbled into a deeply apprehensive one. Avoiding meeting my eye, she cowered away from me and started fidgeting with the simple gold necklace around her beautifully smooth neck.

"Honestly?" asked Mindelyn as cerise invaded her chubby cheeks. I could tell she was thinking hard about a way to get around the question. "I already answered three of your questions already."

"Nah, sweetheart." I lifted my finger and elaborated, "My last question was: 'What were, or are, your intentions for this date?' Yes, there are two questions, but I combined them into one. So, it counts."

Defeated, she looked my way with her arms crossed, shaking her head. "Who taught you how to be such a smartass?"

"50% genetics and 50% environmental factors," I said, flashing a smirk. "Now tell me. What do you currently want from this interaction?"

Glossed with the right amount of sparkly shimmer, her cinnamon-brown lips of perfect plumpness quivered. They were very distracting as she bit down on the bottom one until it tinted with a strawberry-pink hue.

We stared at each other for a bit before she gave in, saying, "After everything I have gone through in the past twenty-four hours, I don't know anymore. If I had to choose an answer, it would be to see where the night leads me."

Layers came with a woman as complex as Mindelyn Suberson. Yet, ambiguity was her superficial choice. Luckily, I learned how to prod her for more.

"Mindy, let me rephrase this." My voice deepened with the increased solemnity. "What do you want from me?"

Edgy, she skimmed around. "Can we not talk about this here?"

I intensely stared at her for a few seconds before sighing and grumbling, "Fine by me. The car was starting to get uncomfortable anyway."

Unlocking the doors, I got out, went to her side, and opened hers. Stunned by my fast movements, Mindy sat as still as a statue, asking, "Wait. What's happening?"

I gestured to the building where her suite was and announced, "We are going to your room to talk."

"B-but I thought we were going to stay here," she stammered.

It took a minute to see where she was getting at, and when it came to me, my eyes widened in horror. I told her with bluntness, "Oh, sweetheart, no. I don't fuck women in my cars."

Damn. What classless men has she messed with?

Whatever the answer was, I highly doubted they had any decent hygiene for their vehicles.

"Mindy, you wanted to talk elsewhere, so let's go inside," I said, but she didn't budge.

Instead, she tried to sway me with big puppy eyes. I wasn't falling for it or about to beg this woman to leave my car. So, I left the door gaping and strode to the entrance.

Two bodyguards stood nearby. I was in the middle of greeting them when Mindy screamed, "Wait! No! Chess!"

I halted and turned to her, yelling back, "What now?"

She jumped out of my vehicle, slammed the door, and bolted toward me, panicking."We can't go in there, Chess! Rhy is in there!"

My eyes narrowed, failing to recall someone by that name. "Rhy?"

"Yes, my friend, Blake Rhyson."

Uh, Dr. Fuck-a-stranger-for-therapy? I thought, clicking my tongue. Her face grew pale. This was even better. I needed to have a nice and long conversation with her pimp.

At that moment, I had a goal. And there was no preventing me when I was determined.

I pitched her a smug smile weaved by the Devil as she stood beside me, nearly breathless. "Well, don't you fret, sweetheart. I'm great with people."

She was about to say something else but bit her lip instead. I took that as a cue to grab her hand and proceed to the elevator.

As we rode through the glass structure, she pleaded with me not to go in. However, I was driven to finish our conversation and have a small chat with her dear 'friend'. The elevator stopped. Its doors opened, and we sprung out of it and stumbled into an elder in an all-black uniform.

I recognized him in an instant and said, "Evening, Thabang. It's been a few months."

"Good evening, Mr. Nel. Yes, it's been a while," he said with a slight bow before his surprised black eyes wandered to Mindelyn. "Good evening, Miss Suberson. Welcome back."

Head down, she shuffled her feet and only replied with a whisper, "Uh. Hi, Thabang."

After she sent her greeting down the butler's way, my eyes looked about, searching for another source of life other than the three of us. I did that for ten seconds, then refocused on the curious older man before us and got straight to the point. "Thabang, is anyone else here?"

"Not currently, sir," he answered, earning Mindy's loud sigh of relief and my louder annoyed tongue's click. That didn't faze him, and he continued, "I presume you're looking for Dr. Rhyson. He had a conversation with someone on the phone roughly half an hour ago and left shortly afterward."

"I see," I said with a hybrid of disappointment and formality. "Well, that's unfortunate. I wanted to introduce myself."

Well, that was only half the truth. The other part of the conversation was going to involve me cussing him out for prostituting his friend to random rich men on the Internet for 'therapeutic fun' and delivering a few African-style beatings of sense in between.

Feeling a tug on the sleeve of my jacket, I turned around and found Mindelyn pointing her manicured finger down the small passage. Her serious and taut expression sent a chill down my spine as she venomously whispered, "Can I talk to you privately?"

Shit.

I gulped with a nod before being pulled into the master bedroom. From the several dresses on the bed and the plethora of makeup by the dresser, I figured this was her room. Any other day, I would be indifferent, but being with this woman — especially knowing she was testy — left me with mixed feelings. I was both thoroughly intrigued and relatively flustered.

She strutted over to the set of chairs at the edge of the bed, perched herself on one, and then gestured to the one across from her with a stern, "Mr. Nel, please take a seat."

Reluctance made me stand still before my valor kicked in and encouraged me to walk over and sit my ass down.

She crossed her thick but toned legs and said what was on her mind: "I didn't appreciate you barging in like that, especially after I told you not to."

My original goal was to find a place to talk like she wanted, but when she mentioned her friend being there, my focus shifted to giving him a piece of my mind. However, she didn't need to know that, so I sucked in my pride and expressed my regret. "Sorry, I didn't mean to storm in here like that. I just got a little heated at that moment."

She narrowed her eyes, studying me for a minute or two, before returning them to their original size and saying, "Fine. Whatever. Do you want something to drink?"

While praising God for calming my lady in red, I informed her that a Coke would suffice. She got up, whipped two from the nearby mini-fridge, and passed me one. I thanked her and waited for her to return to her seat before drinking the beverage.

However, she chose to sit on the mini coffee table directly in front of me, and my body briefly went rigid. Putting her open drink aside, she crossed her smooth, shapely legs, sighed, and announced, "Okay, I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm not here to get a piece of your fortune or create some drama. I have enough of my shit to deal with."

I already knew that but chose to play dumb and say, "Okay. That's good to know. Then what's your motive?"

From what I had gathered so far through her mannerisms and character, the young lady before me wasn't the type to sleep around for fun. There was something more than what she had been leading on. I didn't know what. Of course, I could make assumptions about what it could possibly be, but I didn't feel like triggering another migraine by overthinking.

"Oh, um. Well, this may sound selfish, but ..." Her anxiety-driven bashfulness returned when her gaze fell to the ground and began rubbing her arm with the open cola in hand. After taking a few deep breaths, she let it out, "I want you to help me forget about a guy who will never like me back."

Of course, it is a guy, I thought, taking a sip of my drink.

I wasn't the only male heartbreaker out there in this cold world. Any other day with any other woman, I couldn't care less. Hearing that from her upset me deeply, and I didn't know why; after all, I hardly knew her.

"So, what I'm asking from you, Chess, is: Can you do that for me?" asked Mindelyn. Firmness sheathed as much of the painful desperation and overwhelming sadness in her silvery voice as possible. However, it still wasn't enough and only solidified her vulnerability.

Seeing her in this state triggered a deep frustration that I couldn't hide for long. It was conflicting because a part of me wanted to comfort her, but another part wanted me to have nothing to do with her.

My head was battling my emotions when she asked me again, "So, can you?"

"No, Mindelyn. I can't," I stated matter-of-factly.

Her eyes grew wide. However, as fast as the shock came, the tide of disappointment washed over her delicate features. She lowered her head as her lips pressed tightly against each other in a bitter smile.

"I understand. Thank you for your honesty. I really enjoyed the dinner, though. It was fun."

"Mindelyn, I enjoyed my time with you too but –"

"Chess, you don't need to explain anything. I get it. So, could you excuse me for a few minutes? I need to use the restroom," she said while getting up. On her way to the bathroom, she stopped by a wall. She used a hand to lean on it for support before proceeding to remove her heels.

The battle in my head was furious. If I messed with her in her emotionally vulnerable state, she could misinterpret the situation and possibly fall for me. I didn't want to lead her on. I could never give her what she truly needed. This ordeal was a no-brainer; I should just leave. Yet I couldn't get myself to move because, in truth, I didn't want to abandon her.

Agh, shit man! Do I dick her or drop her? Why am I struggling with this? The truth was, either way, I was going to regret what route I chose, so — fuck it!

My decision was made. I had one last chug of my drink before standing up and walking over to Mindy. Her back to me; she hadn't noticed me approaching her. With the stilettos on, I towered over her by a good foot, but as she pulled off the last heel and straightened herself, she was smaller than me by at least a foot and a third. It was amazing how all that personality could fit in that small body.

Her long neck was on full display, and my eyes wandered to two small birthmarks under her curly hairline. The anatomically superior one was shaped like a fat heart, while the other and more inferior one reminded me of a diamond. Little details about her like this sparked a tender smile on my lips.

My focus traveled down her body to her big and perfectly round ass. A rush of excitement unfolded in me as she stood there for a bit, rubbing her arms. However, as I continued to examine her heavenly backside, she began shaking. She buried her face in her hands and mumbled to herself, "I'm such an idiot. Of course, he'd reject me. I'm so stupid. So damn —"

"Mindelyn," I interrupted as my arms wrapped around her cinched waist. Before she could even react, I pulled her toward me and locked her in a tight embrace. The warmth of her soft body and the sweet cookie scent of her perfume woke up something in me that honestly solidified my place in Hell. With fingers from one hand, I lifted her chin until her big, lustrous, tear-filled eyes met my curious, libidinous ones.

Still trembling, though not as much, she asked in a soft quaver, "Chess – I mean -- Mr. Nel, what are you doing?"

With my arm firmly pressed around her tiny waist, my hand briefly squeezed her closest love handle. To my surprise, that slight touch delivered her soft moan, and I couldn't help but chuckle a little at her hypersensitivity.

I marked a long kiss on her forehead while the same hand crept over to her deliciously deep cleavage. As my thumb brushed against the exposed portion of her ample breasts, her caramel cheeks turned rosy. Her smooth skin felt electrifying under my touch, and I couldn't get enough of it.

"Remember how you asked me if I could help you forget a man?" She nodded, and I continued, "You didn't let me finish."

For a brief moment, she shut her eyes. When they fluttered them open, an unfathomable sexual hunger radiated from them as she demanded, "Just say it already, Chess."

"No, Mindelyn Suberson. I can't help you forget him because I can do much more than that," I confirmed. I lowered the hand that held her chin and gently wrapped it around her warm neck to support her head. As I did so, I warned her in a serious and lascivious tone, "With that said, Mindy, I want you to know engaging with me for a single night will change your life in a way you never saw coming." My hand brushed against one of her wonderfully plump breasts as I whispered in a dangerously lower voice, "Are you ready for that?"

Her body was hot under my skin. Her shaking was still present, but I could tell it was one of both anxiety and pleasure. I was ready to indulge her and taste every part of her desirably sensual body. However, all I needed was for her to give me the green light to dive in and rip her out of her dress.

"Chess," she moaned softly before moving her delicate hands to my hand on her neck. "Yes, but only if you promise to choke me a little."

Like a switch, her words fully activated my lustful vehemence. Someone liked it kinky and a little brutish, and, as her gentleman and host for the night, I was going to fulfill her request.

Tonight, I am going to devour you, Mindelyn, I thought with a lick of my lips. I was ready for her all night.

If only I had known that evening was one that would change our lives forever in a way neither of us saw coming. No amount of fortune cookies, crystal balls, or witch doctors in the world would have prepared me for it -- and I have the funds to build my own country. So, trust me when I say nothing!

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