Sincerely, Jaida

naked

Jaida

Shit.

That's exactly how I felt. The start of last night was all still a blur, but the Xavier side of things, I remembered very clearly and sadly.

I didn't sleep with him.

I did damn well intend to. When he held out his hand and intertwined my fingers with his rough thick ones, I had my panties ready to drop to my ankles any second.

He led me out the bar and out the back exit. I was sober enough to remember to text Rose.

I'm getting laid. Gradu-dick-action honey. Hope you celebrate the same! Deets tomorrow.

"Mother taught me to be a gentleman," he said.

I looked up my phone to see him gesture to the open passenger door of his car. His 1967 Chevrolet Impala in Tuxedo bloody black.

"Piss off! 1967 Chevrolet Impala? It's an absolute beauty!"

I might have drooled as I momentarily ignored the open door and gingerly placed my right hand on the hood, gliding it along the polished surface.

"Can I have a look under the hood?" I asked impatiently.

I must have looked like a child jumping in a candy store but Xavier just chuckled at my expression.

"Into cars are you? You become more and more intriguing, beer girl." He said as he rounded the car and popped the hood up.

Oh my, my.

"Turbo- Jet? 396 or 427? Either one, I bet it runs like a beauty. Fuck me dead, I'd sell my left boob for this car."

Grinning he replied, "427. You sure know your cars, don't you? This car isn't for sale and neither is your left boob, at least not till I have you."

"Have me? You make it sound like I'm food" I replied, bending over the hood with my ass sticking out.

"Oh love, I'm famished so whatever is hiding under that sexy dress is definitely food for tonight. But don't worry, I'll lick my plate clean," he said, licking his bottom lip.

Have mercy on my vagina.

"Let's go" I repeat his earlier words.

Like the gentleman he was, Xavier took his earlier position next to the passenger door. I slid into the car to be met with the cold, smooth feeling of leather seats under my fingertips. Black leather. 

This just gets better and better.

"So love, does your friend need a ride?" he asked.

"No Rose will be fine-"

Wait.

"How did you know I had a friend with me?"

Fuck. He isn't a bartender, is he? God give me just the smallest sign that he is dangerous and I'll bolt down the street to St. Patrick's Church and wash my mind with holy water for the thoughts I had of this possible rapist, murderer or paedophile. I will not fuck a rapist or paedophile. As for  murderer, it depends on whether he killed bad guys. Like maybe he's in a gang? Fuck, that's hot. Is it perverse of me to find that hot? If he kills innocents, then it's an automatic no-no. Knees shut closed and vagina under lock and key. Bless Rose for giving me a pepper spray.

"You were sat next to her when she ordered tequila shots earlier in the night. You are a lovely dancer, except for the few times that you smacked a stranger on the arm, back and even someone's face" he explained. 

Relief washed over me.

I laughed at his comment. My body loosens up enough to dance after consuming alcohol but being uncoordinated and in heels, I'd had to apologise to a few people. I smacked his arm for calling me out on it.

"Piss off! I'm not used to wearing heels."

"What do you wear instead? Thongs?"

"The only thongs I wear are coating my pussy. I couldn't wear footwear thongs because I absolutely hate the look of my feet. I usually wear my trusty Doc Martens."

"This is getting better and better. So, why the change tonight?"

"Graduated. Decided to celebrate with my friend, Rose. I'm not one to dress up unless occasions call for it. Now, my turn to ask questions. Are you religious?" I asked while eyeing the rosary hanging off the dashboard.

"No, actually but my mother is. She placed it there so 'God watches over you, Xavier. We don't want a car crash or you getting lost even' and so I let it." His imitation of his mother wasn't said in a mocking fashion but in genuine likeliness, I believe. Although, the way his voice had turned higher made me laugh.

I looked over at him and found him beaming at me. We stayed like that for a mere second before he returned his attention to the road.

That was fucking weird.

Minutes had passed when the car came to a stop. I looked out the car window and recognised his house to be the red brick house down the street from mine.

Within the fifteen minutes it had taken us, I'd learned about his younger nine-year-old sister; Calista, his mother; Cheryl and his beautiful Impala. He hadn't named his baby but I already had. His gorgeous Impala was now Jordanna. Tuxedo black, shiny, sleek and rideable.

I wasn't one to get personal with hookups. At the club, I'd formed the usual but much stronger attraction to him. My body was tingling for heaven's sake. But after bonding over his car, things took a turn. We had both settled in comfortably with one another, so much so that I had almost forgotten the promises he had made to my sweet, poor vagina. Almost.

He'd answered my questions about his car and along the way, I'd learnt about Calista and Cheryl's love for cars. When he'd asked questions about me in genuine interest, I'd answered them gladly. I'd answered questions about my graduation, about my job as a waitress. General and simple questions that hadn't put me in unease till I reached the red front door of his house. 

I wasn't a sharing person. Never had been, Rose was barely breaking those walls down even as my best friend.

When have you ever taken an interest in some guy's family? Let alone talk about your work and school? This is bad. Abort mission, my love before he opens you up like a Christmas present from Santa.

He showed a primal sexual interest in me but that had quickly turned in to a genuine interest in me. That was not what I signed up for.

I had felt foolish after I'd stuttered out an incoherent excuse and left him standing there on the steps to his house. I'd felt foolish because I'd gotten scared over such simple questions.

But then again, I'd always associated myself with men who got me laid, no questions asked.

But then again, no man that I wanted to have sex with had ever smiled at me the way he did when I caught him staring at me when the traffic lights were red on the highway. I felt naked in his eyes and smile. And that did not sit well with me.

I felt so foolish when I'd woken up the next morning without a sore vagina. I felt foolish when Rose texted me asking for details.

Deets! I want to know how your vajayjay got down last night. I'll pick you up in 30. Someone dented the back of my car, I'm pissed but I'm more hungover. We are going to the mechanic boo.