Love and War in the Concrete Jungle
No Inhibitions…No Regrets
by
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Tony’s hot, sensual touch ignited a burning fire within my erogenous zones that had been long forgotten. When I thought that his orgasmic titillation couldn’t get any better, ever-so-gently, he proceeded to maneuver his thick, lips on a hot and steamy journey from the core of my eagerly awaiting nipples to the tip of my tingling toes. “Oh…yes…Umm...right there...don't stop,” I purred, trembling in anticipation of my lover’s foreplay. In awe of his sensual touch, I simply closed my eyes, basking in the moment. Just when I thought nothing could spoil my erotic pleasure, the phone rings. Exasperated, I glanced at the caller I.D. It was Lisa, Tony's ex. Her distracting late night calls had become irritating. Normally, I would object to Tony's giving another female our number; however, due to extenuating circumstances, I made an exception. It seems that his and Lisa's son, T.J., was diagnosed with Acute Asthma. According to Tony the toddler's condition was life threatening, which required extensive medical attention. At least that was the explanation given each time Tony rushed out of the house to meet Lisa. I inhaled deeply before answering the call. “Hello, Jasmine and Tony's residence.” “Put Tony on the phone!” I chose to ignore Lisa’s rude demeanor. It was obvious the witch was psychotic. Apprehensively, I watched as Tony exited the room. As he spoke into the receiver, his normally vibrant voice was a mere whisper. An overwhelming sense of betrayal began to seep into my suspicious psyche. The advice I received from my beautician-slash-gay friend Eugene lie heavy on my mind. “Girl, there is no way in hell I would allow my man to reach out and touch his ex without my being present. I would not give a damn if she was Mother Theresa, her ratchet ass would get checked. I have two words for you Jasmine, speaker phone and eavesdrop!” Storming into the den, I observed Tony placing his hand over the receiver in an obvious attempt to muffle the sound of my voice. Within a matter of seconds, my anger intensified to fury. I lashed out! “Listen Tony, I’ve had enough of your bull. I suggest you inform Lisa that I’m the captain of this ship. If she wants to call my home, the two of you better damn well give me the proper respect!” Tony's eyes jittered in anger. He glared intensely in my direction. Removing his hand from the receiver, he spoke close and directly into the mouthpiece. “I'll be there in about twenty minutes!” Slamming the phone down, in an instant, he was on his feet. “Look Jasmine, what’s your problem? My son’s mother doesn’t have to bend over backwards and kiss your ass in order to consult me regarding our child!” Snatching his key, Tony headed for the door. I followed suit. The sight of his back turned, and the thought of how easily he had dismissed me, fueled my anger. “Where in the hell do you think you are going?” I demanded. He turned, halting so abruptly that I literally stepped on his heels. His expression displayed utter contempt. Piercing eyes met mine as he retorted. “Excuse me?” In spite of my anger, for a brief moment, I regretted my actions. However, at this junction, it was too late. Tony and I were past the point of no return. He and Lisa's boundaries would need to be addressed. Prepared for battle, I placed one hand on my hip, bobbing my head boldly as I returned fire. “You heard exactly what I said! Evidently, you’ve forgotten that this is my place. I do not have to cater to your ungrateful, arrogant ass! Every time Lisa calls, you go running like a love sick puppy. Well, I have had it. If you walk out of that door tonight, don’t bother to come back.” His voice filled with rage, Tony countered. “Right, this is your house. How can I forget when you remind me every damn chance you have? I refuse to be your personal punching bag. I'm out of here!” I watched in dismay as Tony stormed out of the door and perhaps out of my life. Confused, I struggled to understand the method to his madness. In spite of his denial, perhaps he still loved Lisa. Tears slowly trickled down my checks. I proceeded to press the MP3 power button. Beyoncé’s song, “If I Were a Boy,” bellowed from the speakers. I began to sing alone softly. “You’re just a boy--you don’t know how it feels To lose the one you wanted--because you’re taking Her for granted, and everything you had is destroyed. You don’t listen to her. You don’t care how it hurts…” Moments later… The phone’s ringtone interrupted my vibe. I made a mad dash to answer the call in the hopes that it was Tony. Instead, it was the last person I expected to hear from--Lisa. Club music blasted in the background, forcing her to yell into the receiver. In an attempt to conceal my despair, I made a conscientious effort to emanate a tone of utter bliss. “Hello, Jasmine speaking.” Lisa’s contemptuous, high pitched voice bellowed from the receiver. “Is Tony there?” Riled by the caller's identity, as well as her offensive tone, I snapped. “No Lisa, he’s not, but I am glad you called. We need to talk.” She smirked. “About what?” “About the fact that I don’t appreciate you calling my home claiming that T.J. needs his father. Do you honestly think that you're fooling anyone with your childish games? In case you are confused, newsflash--Tony and I are engaged. Stop acting like an irate juvenile and respect our relationship.” Her voice expressing cynical amusement, Lisa retorted. “Girl please, you are delusional. Tony has no intentions of marrying your dumb ass. Do you actually think that the two of us spend all our time together discussing T.J.?” She laughed. “Yeah right, we do a lot of pillow talking--on your canopy bed, Bitch!”
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About the Book
The spitting image of her father, Jasmine, a chubby little girl with kinky, thick locks of hair and big brown eyes, always felt out of place in the presence of her family, especially in fashion conscience New York City. To Jasmine, life simply was not fair. Her older sister Pat, the beautiful daughter, could eat what she wants and not gain an ounce, whereas Jasmine had to watch everything she chucks, or endure her mother Bernice’s condescending comments about her weight. Regardless of Jasmine's accomplishments , her mother knew exactly what to say to bring her down. Thank GOD she could rely on her father, her faith, and her friends for comfort and support, but most of all to assure her that like her sister Pat, she also was relevant. By most standards, Jasmine’s best friend Cynthia would be considered an average looking female, but she knew how to work a crowd. She had a way of making the opposite sex, and at times the same sex, feel excited at the thought of being in her presence. Having spent most of her adult life avoiding commitment, Cynthia did and said whatever she wanted, with no inhibition and no regrets. And should the opportunity present itself, she took lovers like most men did, with unbridled passion and no commitment. In spite of her gay brother’s insistence of their bonding in commiseration, Cynthia, refuses to engage. She wants nothing more than to forget the ills of their childhood. She’d much rather focus on the pre-foster care era of their lives, because as bad as it was living with an addictive mother, it was even worse being thrown into the debacle that was Child Protective Services. With inner strength, spirituality and love, the women prevail while living in the concrete jungle, with no inhibitions and no regrets.
About the Author
LuBrenda Turner, a native of Florida, moved to New York, and then to New Jersey, at the age of twenty one. At various stages in her life she was a college student, a HRS representative, data converter, court stenographer transcriber, and a full-time care giver for her ailing mother. She began writing as a catalyst to relieve the pressure of surviving in what she perceived as the concrete jungle of the city. Her literature is based on her true life experiences. Lubrenda’s raw, spiritual, and humorous delivery of her novels renders her on the level of some the best authors in her genre. She now resides in Atlanta, Georgia area.