Page 2 of Mahogany 1

“Hold the roofie,” I joked, with a light laugh.

He shook his head. “Aw hell naw. That’s not even how we roll around here baby.”

Immediately, I was embarrassed. I should’ve just asked for a simple shot of 1942. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was a mess. Wearing a mask on top of themaskI’d already had on. Again. As always. What I needed to do was be myself. But that was hard when I really didn’t know who I was.

Pivoting a bit, I looked away from the bar, putting my attention on the room. I wanted to show that I was joking, and I trusted him a little. Didn’t want him to think I wasthatserious. Didn’t want to come off as paranoid, worried, nervous, andafraid. All of the things Iactuallywas. Wanted to be as cool and confident as the woman boldly walking around, martini glass in hand, ass naked. Wanted to be free, like the woman in the bed, straddling that transwoman. Wanted to be as open, and carefree as the woman at the end of the bar, getting hit from the back. She winked at me. I smiled and winked back, immediately regretting it the minute I did, because she tapped the man she was with and pointed at me.

“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath.

The bartender laughed and sat my drink in front of me. Nodding at the guy a couple of stools down he said, “Found them one, my nigga.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“Found them one? What? Who found what?” I nervously asked, averting my gaze from him to the man, back and forth.

I glanced back down at the end of the bar, and they were finishing up. Well… notfinishing. Stopping. I just knew they were about to bother me. I—I didn’t mean anything by winking. Shit, I was just being polite. But I quickly learned you couldn’t be polite in places like Pandora’s.

“Around here, you look, you took, baby girl,” the bartender continued before pausing to motion towards my mask. “This must be your first night.”

I slid the cup closer to me and drank through the small slit in my mask. “Yes,” I mumbled. “What am I supposed to?—”

“Relax,” interrupted the guy from three stools down, except he wasn’t a few stools down anymore—he was right next to me. “I got you.”

I drew back a little, caught off guard by not only his assertiveness but his presence. He was heavy. Not in a weight type of way. He had this… thing about him. The type of presence that demanded respect and attention. And his scent? My God he smelled good. Delectable, even. I was only familiar with thecologne Duke wore. Creed and Dior Sauvage. Whatever he wore, was neither.

He stood behind me, leaned in a little and said, “May I?” before lightly touching my waist pulling a soft gasp from me. The touch was simple; his fingertips barely brushing up against the smooth fabric of my dress, but I felt him. That heaviness. Except it wasn’t heavy in an overpowering, aggressive way. I could just…feelhim. He had the kind of energy that clung to your skin. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. And the comfort? How comfortable I was with this… stranger putting his hands on me was insane. With his body subtly up against mine, he didn’t feel like a stranger at all. Felt like I’d known him damn near as long as I’d known my husband.

Speaking of. I didn’t feel him the way I felthim. The energetic chemistry was insane. It was as if his intertwined with mine, giving me exactly what I needed in that moment—to feel safe. I didn’t even know his name but, I felt safe with him. How in the hell did I feel safe with a stranger? In the middle of a sex club?

Nodding, I gave him the okay, knowing exactly how he planned to save me. That didn’t stop the audible gasp from falling from my lips when he slid his big hands along my sides before wrapping his arms around me. His arms tucked delicately under my breast, careful and respectful in the way they rested there. His energy more suffocating than it had been before. It was odd. The way he filled me up with just a subtle touch.

“As much as you can… relax for me. Let me save you. Respectfully. It won’t take long.”

I just nodded with a swallow. Couldn’t do anything but that. The only arms I’d been in was Duke’s, so… it was different. Very different. And as fake as it was supposed to be, it felt strikingly real. To a point where chills ran down my spine. He was… a lot. By far the most intimidating man I’d encountered and not onlybecause he was over six feet tall and beefy. The energy he carried was bigger.

“You really do have to be careful in places like this. Especially…” he paused and softly laughed, likely to create the illusion of flirting. “As timid as you are,” he continued, as he stepped back a little, loosening his grip on my waist, responding to the light trembling I couldn’t help.

I giggled a little. Not for real but to play along. Hoped like hell that’s what we were doing. But what if he wasn’t? What if he… oh my God. The wheels in my head got to turning andshegot to ‘talking’ to me.Sheas inme. The scared timid, nervous, paranoid one.

I shouldn’t have come. Should’ve thrown the invitation away. For all I knew, Emerald could’ve been into sex trafficking and what had I done? Walked right into the set up. I looked over at the bartender, wondering if he was a part of it too. With furrowed brows, I sized him up, swallowed, and tears began to build behind my eyes. I wondered if he could see them. Wondered if he cared, if he could. Apparently not because instead of addressing them, he just shook his head, smirked, and told me to relax, too.

How in the hell was I supposed to relax when he’d just told me if I looked, I was took? And the nigga behind me had just practically told me to be careful in places like this? I was in my head, heavy. Scared, as I’d never been in a position anything remotely similar to this one.

I tensed up and pulled away a little.

“Chill. You gave me the green light to look out, this is how I look out,” he said into my ear, holding me closer.

“Okay,” I whispered before looking over my shoulder at him. My hands began to grow clammy. Heart raced. And my breathing grew labored. The longer he held me, the more I didn’t feel like… me and more like… him? It was almost asif, in connecting we were merging. Truly becoming one. His heartbeat, against my back, linking with the racing of my own. His breath, mine. His energy, mine too. He was heavy, remember?

We locked eyes and then he turned away to chuck his chin at the couple.

“What up? Y’all good?” He sternly asked, with a deep furrow in his thick brows, steady holding me. By the bass in his voice, it was clear that he wasn’treallyasking. More-so expressing claim to me, telling them to go the other way without really having to say it.

The guy drew back a little, holding his pants up, just below his waistline, glancing back and forth between me and ‘my man’ with a light smirk. “Shit, we thought that was an invite?—”

“An invitation to what, nigga? Because she spoke? That wasn’t no fuckin’ invitation. She just a lil’ too friendly.” He paused and leaned down, closer to my ear again, sending yet another electrifying chill through my body. “Ain’t that right,baby?”

Instead of responding, I embarrassingly ran my fingers through my hair and looked away, the same way I would’ve if he was my actual boyfriend and I was being checked about something.

---