Cortez and I had a joint account for paying bills, but we also had separate accounts that we used to support our habits--his was smoking and video games mine was shopping. I hadn't had the time to shop in quite some time so I had a nice little nest egg. Reluctantly, I withdrew the $3000 to pay SaLynne's debt. I also drew up a promissory note that detailed the payment arrangements and had her to sign it.
"If you don't pay me back, we're going to court," I said to her.
"Girl, I got you."
I wouldn't really sue her but I wanted her to know that she had to be responsible for her own foolish actions. I didn't want to see her fired or put in jail. Hopefully, once everthing was taken care of no one would find out what she had done. I also hoped that I didn't get myself in trouble for covering it up.
Traffic was insane when I got off work. Sleet had fallen at lunch time, so the streets were slick with ice. The news had reported that the city's public works division had actually run out of sand to cover the streets. Now, I wasn't an expert, but I didn't see sand being hard to come by. They could truck it in from Mississippi or one of the other coastal states.
It took me two hours to slide home, which was an hour and thirty minutes longer than usual. Cortez had called a couple of times but I was concentrating on driving and didn't want to pick up the phone while I was on the interstate. I should have just ignored his calls completely like he did when he was out and about, but I called him once I got off at my exit.
"Hey, hun, I'm not too far from home."
"Good, I was worried about you."
"I'm fine. See you when I get home."
I had the hardest time going down Tchulahoma, the two lane street that led to our townhouse. The twists and turns weren't easy to maneuver but I made it home without crashing into a tree or another motorist.
Cortez was lucky enough to be off that Thursday so he was at home, probably sitting in front of the TV. He was a Nintendo 64 junkie. NBA Jam 2000 was the lastest addiction. He, his friend Dillon, his brother Charles and sometimes some other random guy usually played the games from the time they got off work until the wee hours of the morning. They would be screaming and cursing until I walked into the living room and gave them a dirty look. Playtime was usually over by then.
As I had guessed, he was playing the game but Dillon was the only one playing with him.
"Hey baby," Cortez said once I walked in and kissed him on the cheek.
"Hey," I said, walking over to Dillon and pulling one of his locs.
"What's up? I'm good. How you doing?" Dillon asked.
"I've scratched my brains out all day, so I'm going to wash my hair." Both Dillon and Cortez laughed.
When I got to the bedroom, I added my suit to the bag of clothes that needed to go to the cleaners, kicked my heels into a corner in the closet, and shoved my tights and other unmentionables in the hamper. I put on my "around the house" dress that pooled around my ankles if I didn't have the hem up in a knot. I gathered up my shampoo, conditioner, big tooth comb, and towel and headed to the kitchen sink. Going natural had been on my mind for a while but I hadn't totally decided to do it yet. The two inches of new growth was going through creamy crack withdrawals, but I had planned to think about the natural thing for one more month.
Bent over the sink attempting to detangle my semi-naps, I felt a hand run across my butt and lift my dress up.
"Stop freak. Don't you see that I'm busy?"
"I'm busy too," he said rubbing his hand between my thighs.
I straightened up, squeezing water from my hair before turning to face him. "What about Dillon?"
"I put him out."
"Cortez, if you help me with my hair, then I can help you with your problem," I said tapping his extension with my comb.
"Hey, watch that," he said, protecting his crotch.
I loved it when Cortez washed my hair; he was always so gentle yet firm. He turned hair washing into foreplay. I watched him pour conditioner in his hands before I leaned over the sink again. Cortez massaged the cream into my hair and scalp on the left side of my head. He grinded against my butt a couple of times on his way to the work on the other side of my head. He combed through my hair several times to make sure every section of my hair was covered. After about ten minutes, he rinsed my hair and towel dried it. Then he wrapped the towel around my head, grabbed the comb and led me to our bedroom.
"Have a seat," Cortez said.
I sat on the ottoman in front of the chair and he went into the bathroom. He came out with a jar of grease and a scarf. Cortez sat in the chair behind me, his long legs stretched out with me in between. He oiled my scalp and wrapped my hair around my head. By this point, he usually had had his fill of playing in my hair so I was surprised when I glanced in the dresser mirror and saw that he had done a lot better job than I ever had.
"You should do this all the time," I said.
"Why, it ain't my hair."
"Ooo, you so low down."
"I'm just playing. You know I got you. Whenever you want me to, just say the word," he said tying the scarf on my head.
He hugged me from behind and kissed my neck. A spark ran through me when he cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples simultaneously.
"Quintina," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.
"You ready to mess this hair up?"
Cortez was dead asleep when I woke up. It was almost ten. We had thrown clothes all over the room and I wanted to get the room looking halfway decent before I went back to bed. I walked from one side of the bed to the other to make sure I had gotten everything. I bent down to check under the bed and saw a small wrapper and picked it up. Magnum. Cortez and I hadn't used condoms since high school, so what was really going on?
This is a continuation of "Money Funny".