The first sample to Bring the heat - no release date as of yet.
(Also, this has not been edited.)
Rubi gasped as her body sprung itself from her sheets.
She awoke in a hot sweat, in disabling fear, of what...she had no idea. Her heart was racing. Ripping and running up her chest. Her deep brown eyes could see nothing but the darkness around her, yet she could feel the familiarity of the space. Her chest heaved in and out as flashes of her nightmare played through her mind.
“What the fuck.” her mouth was dry. As hell.
Probably, no, definitely due to her smoke session before bed.
She reached out to hopefully find a glass of water on her nightstand and was pleased when her hand came across one.
“Shit.” It was empty.
She dragged herself out of her bed. The cold wooden floor pressed against her bare feet and made her jump to her tiptoes. Why did her kitchen have to be so far away? A loft apartment was cute in theory when she first picked it out and signed the lease, but these nightmares were getting worse, and each night the kitchen seemed even farther away.
The nightmares started months ago. Coming and going in the night, interrupting her peaceful sleep and frightening her to the point she was no longer tired. She could barely ever remember them once she awoke, she just knew whatever it was in them, had her running to get out of her own head. She knew that a lot of it had to do with her anxiety, that could be triggered at any moment.
It felt like she was a prisoner in her own body. Forced to relive the same haunting night over and over again.
Rubi downed the glass of water after filling it to the top. She breathed in. Then exhaled. She took a moment to get her mind right. When she opened her eyes, she read the time displayed on her stove. Three a.m.
This was the umpteenth time she was up in the wee hours of the morning. She didn’t know how much longer she could suffer from the chill inducing visions that always propelled her out of her otherwise comfortable bed. Suddenly, her choice of water switched to Tequila. There was just enough in the bottle that was lonely at the bottom of her fridge, to fill her glass to the top, with room to top it off with ice.
She winced at the bittersweet after taste. She hated drinking. Weed was her vice of choice. But lately not even that could relax her. Drinking helped her loosen up, while it seemed like the blunt just made her even more paranoid.
To take her mind off of yet another failure at sleep, she pulled her laptop to the edge of the kitchen island. Maybe reading work emails could pass the time until her hair appointment early that morning. She had no plans on attempting to go back to sleep, not if there was a chance she would be haltailing out of it again.
She sipped while typing away. She had a review due by that upcoming Friday, which also just happened to be her birthday. Her boss was on her heels about the work that she had let pile up. Her job was typically an easy one, but lately she just didn’t have that spark that she needed to create her review pieces. She hadn’t tasted anything in a while that sent her taste buds into another universe, making her reminisce about the flavors that triggered saliva every time she thought of it.
All of her reviews were blah because everywhere her boss sent her, was blah.
Attempting to do work was another failure only ten minutes into it. She couldn’t read a single email without rolling her eyes or letting out an annoyed grunt, so she exited out of that tab and found her way into another - kittycat.com. Her eyes, already in a low droop from her constant sips of liquor, glossed over. A tilt of her lips into the upward direction, a fierce bite into them next as she clicked through the section of dirty videos.
There was no debating her selection of choice - ebony. She marveled at the variety, courtesy of her subscription, taking her sweet time to choose one that would get the job done.
“Mhhmm. Star Montana.” She was one of her favorites. Her performance was always passionate, leaving whoever it was she was fucking in a dry heav, trying to get their lives together. Rubi didn’t take another second to press on the video.
The benefits of living alone meant she could play the volume as loud as she wanted. So she did. Star’s moan’s echoed throughout her kitchen, as if she was on the island with her legs open right there. Rubi was already feeling a wave of heat coming over her.
She lifted her hands up her oversized guns and roses t-shirt, twisting her nipples, brushing her fingertips across them gently, enjoying the tingling feeling that was emerging between her legs.
She pulled her shirt over her head. It dropped beneath her barstool. Next came her underwear, giving her full access to touch herself without anything getting in the way. Star’s moans shifted into a cry as she watched her co-star eat her throbbing pussy, and Rubi’s mouth watered at the sight. Her eyes perked up when a male entered the video, jacking his long cognac colored dick in the camera.
The barstool was soaked. Rubi spread her legs and raised them to the island, sitting them on each side of her laptop. Her fingers ran down her clit, getting lost in a sea of gushiness.
“Oyyy, shit that looks good.” She groaned.
She picked up her pace just for a moment, causing electricity to shoot through her as she brought herself to the edge just to deprive herself of her nut. She wanted to hold it. She could be done in seconds if she wanted to, but that most likely wouldn’t solve her late night blues. She needed a knockout.
Rubi took her breast into her mouth and flicked her tongue across the right nipple, then moving to the left to give it just as much tlc. She catered to them for a while, knowing the more she caressed her sensitive spots, the more she would flood. Spit dripped down both her titties as she moved back and forth, licking and sucking while she watched the threesome on her screen.
She allowed herself to grace the lining of her pussy again. It was slick, almost too wet - both warm and inviting to the two fingers she immediately pushed inside.
“Yes, yes, right there,” she coached herself.
Her eyes fluttered from the sensation. She met the thrust of her hips with the forceful pounding of her fingers into her widening slit. Rubi could feel her cum begging to be released. When she couldn't take it anymore, she let out a whimper as her legs shook from the pleasure she had successfully provided herself.
She sat, catching her breath just in time for the spicy video to come to an end.
Rubi cleaned both herself and the kitchen up before hoisting the bottle and her laptop to her bedroom - where she brought herself to yet another climax. She had no problems sleeping then.
It was just her luck that she was running late to her hair appointment. An appointment she had to book a month in advance to secure with one of the busiest salons in Rosehill.
Her late night self love session was a little too good. It sent her into a slumber so deep that she woke up with only thirty minutes to throw something on and get to the Hair Bar - whose waiting area was always packed with women who were praying to catch one of the scheduled appointments lacking in order to get squeezed in.
Unfortunately, today, Rubi was the one caught lacking. Krystle, the hairdresser who had her on her books, already had her chair filled when the clock struck fifteen minutes past Rubi’s appointment time.
“Krys, I really need this appointment. You know my birthday is Friday.” Rubi said, scolding the woman in the chair that was supposed to be occupied by her.
“I know, girl, and I tried to wait. You know how Byron is. You get a fifteen minute grace period or you forfeit your appointment.” Krystle gave Rubi a sympathetic expression. Rubi was one of her favorite regulars, but rules were rules.
“Krystle, this is my twenty-ninth birthday. I can’t spend the last birthday of my twenties with a quick weave.”
“Well, should’ve been on time.” The woman in the chair muttered, an eye roll following behind.
Rubi had the right mind to curse her ass out, but she didn’t want to be on anybody’s social media page acting a damn fool.
Instead, a wicked smirk crossed her lips as she replied, “What the hell is she about to do to that round ass head anyway? Calculate its circumference? Caillou.”
Krystle’s eyes widened, but before Rubi could be threatened to be thrown out, she sashayed out of the salon in hopes of finding a spot that could get her right by the end of the day. It was Tuesday afternoon, only giving her three days to find a stylist with an opening. That would be damn near impossible with Valentine’s Day being the Sunday after her birthday. Women all over the city were getting ready for their special weekend, whereas Rubi was single and destined to spend both days alone with a beauty-supply hair duo.
Now, there was nothing wrong with a forty dollar free-tress wig when you didn’t have the funds and needed something for a few weeks - but this wasn’t that. Rubi prided herself on spending a pretty penny on her self-maintenance routine. Nails and toes every other Saturday, hair twice a month, wax appointment, facials, the list went on. She didn’t just enjoy the process, she loved the results that kept her looking her best. She couldn’t imagine having it any other way for her birthday - the day meant to celebrate her grand arrival to the shitty world she was currently resenting.
Rubi released a frustrated sigh after she slammed the car door, shutting her inside. Despite her attitude and wanting to call it a day, she sat in the parking lot for at least an hour, calling from shop to shop to see who had an opening, until she found one - Magnolia’s. The shop didn’t have a lick of social media, so Rubi was really risking it all by taking an appointment with someone whose work she hadn’t gotten the chance to judge. As far as she knew, she could walk out looking like who did it and you better not have paid them.
Still, she was riding off of faith as she drove down Gardenia Ave, keeping a close eye on the GPS that was navigating her to the salon. It wasn’t hard to miss its bright orange paint that coated the entire shop, with beautiful bushes of flowers that lined the front and vined up the side of the windows. It looked like it was smack out of the fifties with its timeless architecture and charm, and while it was certainly adorable, it was vastly different from what Rubi was used to.
When she entered the quaint establishment, she took a gander around to see that not one person was in the chair or even waiting to be serviced.
Damn, this place must suck. She thought to herself. Before she could announce her arrival with the bell that sat on the front desk, an older woman sauntered from the back.
“Hi, I’m Rubi. I just called for an appointment.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Maggie,” her smile was just as timeless as the shop, radiating comfort and beauty at the same time, “What you getting today, baby?”
“Ummm,” Rubi’s eyes danced around the shop, finally finding the wall with the client portraits, “I’m going to assume you don’t do lace fronts? Closures? I’ll even settle for a basic middle part sew-in at this point.”
Maggie shifted her wide hips to one side and wagged her finger, “I don’t do any of that. This is a natural salon, honey-bun.”
Rubi hadn’t worn her natural hair since…she didn’t even know. She didn’t have anything against the girls who did embrace their natural curls, but she never had the patience or skill to deal with the humidity-hating hair-ball on her head.
“Yes, baby, natural. What? The tresses God blessed you with, not enough? Looks plenty to me.”
Rubi smiled weakly, “It’s not that. I just...it’s my birthday on Friday. I have to look good, Maggie. My hair does not cooperate for a day, let alone multiple plus a night at the club and birthday dic…dances.”
Maggie gave Rubi a raised brow and a slick smile, “Don’t be shy. You don’t think Magnolia’s can give you a style that can survive a good birthday bang? I love a non-believer.”
Rubi had to admit - the woman’s confidence was intriguing. However no amount would be enough to convince her that her hair wouldn’t turn into a 70’s Afro by the time the clock struck midnight.
“I’m sure you’re amazing, Maggie. I just don’t know if it’ll hold up. I would hate to waste your time.”
“Alright, I won’t force you now. Have a good day.”
Maggie grabbed her crackers from her work station and turned to disappear into the back, but didn’t get too far before Rubi shouted out after her.
“Ok, fine! I’m desperate.”
The hairdresser smiled pleasantly, as if Rubi had just been granted an once and a lifetime opportunity.
“Don’t be desperate, be confident in your ability to rock anything, honey bun. Now let’s get started.”
Rubi was hesitant, but Maggie had one thing right, she was confident in her ability to rock just about anything. So she allowed the woman to do her job, and sat back enjoying the process as she frequently did during her pampering time.
“Are you ready to see the Magnolia magic?” asked Maggie when she was finally finished.
Rubi braced herself.
She gulped hard, a little apprehensive of the hairstyle she had to choose last minute. Her nervousness quickly diminished when Maggie turned her to face the mirror, and she witnessed the magic that she had definitely done. She loved it. Scratch that, she was obsessed.
The highlights, the bounce and definition in every curl, even the dye job that she at first was super hesitant about. Maggie had lifted her natural color to a honey-brown shade that suited her toasty skin. Her curl pattern cascaded around her baby face impeccably. It was fresh, sexy, and said welcome to twenty nine.
“Wow, Maggie. You did the damn thing.” Rubi said, taking a closer look although she didn’t dare touch it.
Maggie’s look told her she wasn’t surprised that she loved it. In fact, her entire expression read I told you so.
“I’m glad you like it, honey,” she replied, “That’ll just be eighty-five.”
“Just eighty-five?” Rubi was stunned, “You’re spoiling me here, Mags.”
The older woman chuckled as she removed the cover from around Rubi’s neck, “You sound like my God baby. He’s just as stubborn, but once I get him right, he’s thanking me like I brought water to a drought.”
“Well, he’s lucky to have you in his life.”
Rubi shuffled through her bag for the cash, making sure to grab a few extra bills for the tip that Maggie deserved.
“Do you want to book your touch up? How about two weeks from now?”
“Yes, that works.” '
Rubi scheduled two weeks from that day with Maggie, deciding to give her a chance to work her magic once again. So far, she was in love with the voluminous, sexy head of curls, but it really came down to how long it held up.
“Thank you so much for this. You really hooked me up, Mags. I’m going to tell all my girlfriends about you, trust.” exclaimed Rubi, as she pulled out her favorite red lipstick and painted it across her lips.
As she stared back at herself in the mirror, puckering her lips and fluffing her hair, she failed to notice Maggie watching her with an amused grin.
“You are something, y’know that?” She laughed heartily, “Reminds me of me at that age. I just knew I was hot shit. Are you single?”
Rubi teetered her hand, “Ehh, sometimes.”
Closing the top on her lipstick, she finally reverted her eyes to Maggie who was still grinning, “You’re still hot shit, Mags. Look at those cheekbones, and that hair.”
It was true. Magnolia was a beautiful woman who looked to be in her early fifties. Her auburn brown pin curls striped with silver streaks, complimenting her pecan skin tone that had to be from a long line of good genes seeing how smooth and pretty it was. As far as Rubi could tell, the woman wasn’t married, seeing as though her ring finger was vacant, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a man.
“Thank you, honey.” Maggie replied as she retreated behind the receptionist desk, “You should stick around. My God baby is on his way, I think you two would hit it off.”
Rubi twisted her lips.
While she was grateful for the hairstyle, putting another person on her roster wasn’t on her agenda. Also, she didn’t want it to be awkward if Godbaby wasn’t her type, leaving her to possibly offend Mags.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not looking for anything new right now.” She replied honestly.
Maggie thankfully didn’t press the suggestion. She took Rubi’s answer for just that, no, and bid her a good rest of her day. Rubi knew she liked the woman for a reason. She wasn’t a pusher, she was respectful, efficient, and even gave a good laugh or two during her service. Magnolia’s definitely had a new returning client.
Rubi enjoyed her visit so much, she was already pulling it up on google to leave her review as she left the salon. With her head in her phone, she sauntered out of the shop, completely oblivious to her surroundings. So much so, she didn’t see the pair of eyes taking her in, just feet away.
“Is that Rubi?”
Rubi knew that voice from anywhere. Her panties damn near soaked in nanoseconds when she peeled her eyes up to see a very nice surprise.
“Big Ivery.” A wicked smile crossed her lips.
“You and that damn name,” he slit his hazel eyes at her, causing a chill to run down her spine and land in her panties.
Ivery’s laugh echoed in the cool winter air, creating a mist that danced around him. Rubi marveled at the happiness that flashed across his face.
“You know you like it,” she teased, tucking her phone away in her coat pocket.
“That I do.” He admitted.
Ivery was a friend of a friend, but Rubi had always wanted him to be a friend of hers. There was no denying her attraction the first time she laid eyes on Big Ivery, a name she conjured up on the spot because there wasn’t anything little about that fine ass man. It wasn’t just his height that was big either, it was his presence. He exuded BDE - big dick energy.
He was always so friendly. Genuinely friendly. He was a businessman, known to have multiple streams of income across Rosehill - but never letting that give him a big head, although Rubi liked those; the list could go on and on if she was the one writing it.
The fact that the two hadn’t crossed each other's paths on a more intimate level was still a surprise to her. She got who she wanted when she wanted - but Ivery had always played too hard to get. She eventually settled with the idea that maybe she just wasn’t his type. His loss.
“So, what are you doing down here?” she asked.
Her chestnut brown orbs followed his long tongue that he swiped across his bottom lip to keep it from getting ashy, “My God mom owns this shop you just came out of. I was stopping by to visit.”
“Ohh, so you’re Godbaby. I should warn you, either she thinks you’re lonely or your current boo doesn’t deserve you. She tried to get me to stick around to meet her lovely Godson.”
Ivery shook his head with a laugh, “Wow, that’s...embarrassing. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, if I had known it was you, I would’ve let her do my hair twice.”
There was nothing like seeing a man blush - and at that moment, Ivery might as well have been a school girl. His butterscotch skin warmed up, his cheeks raised, and he kept doing this thing with his bottom lip as he thought hard on a response that could possibly match Rubi’s energy...or not.
“Is that so?”
She shrugged coyly, not wanting to feed too much into what she imagined to be a humongous ego.
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked, narrowing his pretty eyes at her.
“Well, my birthday is on Friday. I’m turning the big two-nine. I’m having a little get together on the rooftop downtown...You should come.” Rubi insisted.
“You absolutely should.”
They were practically in a staring contest on the corner of Gardenia & Chase, indulging in the sight of one another. Rubi didn’t know how good of a day Ivery was having, but she was grateful that it led him right to her, where he was now salivating from her very subtle seduction.
“Can I have your number, Ivery?” Rubi finally broke the silence, “You know…so I can send you the details.”
He dug in his back pocket for his phone immediately, “Lock your number in. I’ll text you so you can have it.”
“Trust me, I won’t forget.”
Her perfectly arched brow peaked, “Is that so?”
He chuckled at her use of his words, and that must’ve been the limit for how much flirting he could take from Rubi - who was never shy with her thoughts.
“Have a good day, Rubi,” he returned his phone to his pocket and curled around her, “Oh yeah, and I really like your hair. It suits you.”
“Thank you, Big Ivery.”
She giggled at his umpteenth flustered expression in just a few short minutes. When he disappeared into the shop, she quickly hustled over to her jeep to get out of the cold. The beginning of her day, even her long night that kept her up until she forced herself to sleep, had been delegated to the back of her mind. She was now feeling good, looking good, and more ready than ever for her birthday.