The Hot Box by Zane
Two women plus four men equals nothing but drama. “Hotbox” is a baseball drill that can be played with three or more players and two to four bases. The players take turns between being fielders and runners, ultimately trying to tag the rest of the players out. In “The Hot Box” by Zane, best friends Milena and Lydia are playing the game along with Jacour, Yosef, Glenn, and Phil. The only problem: the men do not realize that they are playing.
Milena is a veterinarian who has lived a sheltered and dismal existence ever since leaving Jacour Bryant at the altar. Jacour had recently signed an eighty-five million dollar contract with the New York Yankees but Milena could not have cared less once she discovered his doggish ways. Jump ahead eight years and Jacour has returned to rural North Carolina to win Milena’s heart back… but there’s a serious problem. Milena has a new man; one that no one ever knew existed who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. What ensues is a competition between Jacour and the mysterious and handsome stranger, Yosef, to win Milena’s heart, soul, and body that hasn’t been touched by a man in nearly a decade.
Lydia is the complete opposite of Milena; she does not believe in recycling her virginity. In fact, she utilizes her sex daily to get what she wants. Working part-time as a grocery cashier is simply not the life that she desires. Residing with Glenn, her lover of three years, she is also sexually active with his best friend, Phil. Glenn is her Mr. Right but Phil is her Mr. Good Sex. Lydia dreams of getting away from small town America but, until she can make that happen, she is prepared to do whatever it takes to continue to have her bills paid… on time. Everything is all-good until Phil decides that he wants to change the parameters of their relationship, forcing Lydia to make a choice that she is clearly not prepared to make.
Two women. Four men. Two love triangles. Three sections: Curveballs, Bases Loaded, and The Sweet Spot. Reading has never been this hot because once again, Zane is taking you outside of the box.
EXCERPT-PAGE 115 of The Hot Box by Zane
I seriously had a problem. Sunday morning, the day after Jacour’s party, I got up at seven and told Glenn that I was going to the eight o’clock church service. In all actuality, I was mad as hell that Glenn hadn’t come home until after three. The dance had ended at midnight and he’d claimed that he was going to help console Jacour’s devastated heart after Milena showed up with Randolph. While I was extremely confident that Glenn was wrapped around my pinkie finger, I didn’t want him staying out that late. Now that Jacour was back, unless Milena got back with him, Glenn would be gone all the time and I wasn’t having it. Worse yet, Phil would likely be right along with them. Not only would my man be missing in action, but my dick action, too? No fucking way!
I couldn’t wait to get the rest of the dirt from Milena about this Yosef dude, but first, I had something else to attend to. While I was sitting on the toilet taking my morning dump, I sent Phil a text message. Yes, women take morning dumps, too. Any woman who denies it will also claim her shit doesn’t stink. Memo: there is no such thing as sweet‐smelling shit; real talk.
me: meet me at baker’s creek.
phil: right now?
me: yes, right now.
phil: why? what’s up?
me: you know why.
phil: no, tell me.
me: get your ass over there. 30 minutes.
phil: i’m still sleep.
me: 30 minutes. don’t be late.
phil: i’m going back to sleep. holla later.
As much shit as Phil talked, he would show up. He wasn’t going to turn down pussy; not my pussy. I started to put something raunchy in the text message but wasn’t about to be a fool. Text messages had gotten more people busted than used condoms in the wastebasket. Former Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick had more than 14,000 of those bad boys leaked all over the internet after the powers that be decided to do his ass in. I wasn’t a politician, but I still had shit to worry about. Glenn was covering the bills that I couldn’t afford from my part‐time job at Food Lion and I needed him to keep paying them. One day, I was going to get the hell out of that dismal town, but until then, I needed him to stay put. If he found out that I was fucking Phil, and had been fucking Phil even before I started fucking him, my life as I knew it would be history.
Now you would think that the possibility of not being able to pay bills would’ve been sufficient enough to encourage me to stop fucking Phil. But, like I said, I seriously had a problem, and it was entirely related to the need for dick.
Less than twenty‐five minutes later, I was sitting in the parking lot at Baker’s Creek Park. That’s the beauty of small‐town life. You could shower, get dressed—oh yeah, take a morning shit—and still be anyplace in town within a half hour.
There wasn’t a soul out there that time of morning. It wasn’t like Central Park or South Beach or the Santa Monica Pier or the other places they showed in movies. People weren’t riding bikes, jogging in expensive spandex, or rollerblading at Baker’s Creek. The only things getting exercise around there were the squirrels, possums, and raccoons. And shortly, my pussy was going to get a workout.
My clit started throbbing at the thought of it. I tried to decide what I was going to demand that Phil do to me first: suckle on my tits, eat my pussy, or lick my ass. Yes, my ass. I showered after my morning shit. Did you?
That was one thing I never played with; proper hygiene. I remember when Donita was dating Timmy, her now husband. Milena had forced me to have dinner with the chicken at the Golden Corral. You know it’s a small town when the hottest meal ticket is the Golden Fucking Corral. Anyway, we were chowing down on the selections when Donita said something that almost made me barf up my salisbury steak and gravy.
“Timmy keeps leaving beads on my sheets,” Donita said.
“Beads! What kind of beads?” Milena asked.
“Poop beads.” Donita looked terribly uncomfortable as the words left her lips. “Should I say something?”
I placed my fork down on my plate, suddenly losing my appetite. “Please tell me that you’re not talking about what I think you’re talking about. Not while I’m trying to eat.”
Milena giggled. “It’s okay, Lydia. At least she’s not getting graphic.”
That’s when Donita went and did it. She got graphic. “Every time we get finished fucking, there are these little pieces of shit all over my sheets. As soon as he leaves, I have to strip the bed and throw everything in the washer.”
“Not graphic, huh?” I glared at Milena. “Little pieces of shit all over her sheets?” I turned my attention to Donita. “Donita, let me help you out here. Yes, the hell you need to tell that Negro to stop shitting in your bed.”
“I don’t think he’s actually shitting in the bed. I’m saying, the beads are already there from when he did take a shit, and they end up on my sheets.”
“In other words, Timmy’s not wiping his ass when he takes a dump,” Milena added. “A lot of men don’t wipe properly.”
“And how would you know that, Miss Never Fucked Another Man In My Life Besides Jacour? Did Jacour wipe his ass?”
“Of course he did,” Milena replied.
“And all of my men have always wiped their asses,” I said. “Furthermore, no funk occupies my space. I take a shower before I go to bed, and I’ll be damned if any man that I’m fucking around with is lying with me with a musty dick.”
There was an older couple sitting in the booth behind us. The man cleared his throat. I tried to see if I recognized them, but I didn’t. While the blacks and whites in Kannapolis dealt with each other in some respects, the area was still very segregated as far as living space and communicating with one another. There was a ton of jungle fever going on though. My mother used to always say that future generations of black boys were going to be lost between the thighs of white women. I believed in to each his or her own, and I wasn’t down with the swirl.
I didn’t know the couple, but they needed to mind their business. If they didn’t want to hear real talk, stay the fuck out of the real world.
I cleared my throat back, loudly, and then stared at Donita. “You nasty, Donita. Real, real nasty. The first time that man left a single bead in my bed, not that I ever would’ve allowed it, his ass would’ve been told. For you to even have to ask us if you should say something proves that you’re hard the fuck up.”
“Ease up, Lydia,” Milena said, taking a sip of her lemonade. I couldn’t see how she could still drink, much less eat, after Donita’s “shit talk.” “You shouldn’t make fun of her. Obviously, this is really bothering her or she wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Well, she shouldn’t have mentioned it when we weren’t eating.”
Donita seemed like she was on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry. You’re right, Lydia. This was the wrong time to bring it up. It’s just that I care about Timmy, a lot, and I don’t want to say anything that might upset him or make him stop dating me.”
Milena was about to say something, but I held my index finger up to hush her.
“Let me get this one,” I said. Milena gave me a warning look. “Don’t worry. I’m going to be nice about it.” I looked at Donita, who was wiping her eyes with a napkin. “I can tell this is a serious matter.”
I sat up straighter in the booth and noticed the man in the next one cropping his neck to try to listen. Now the old dirty bastard was all into it. He’d probably left his share of shit beads in the bed over the years his damn self.
“Donita, if you can’t talk to Timmy without feeling like you have to walk on eggshells, then it’s not a true relationship. When you’re with someone intimately, you should be able to talk to them about anything. Ask the man—no, tell him—that he needs to bathe before you have sex. In fact, make it a sensual time. Suggest that you bathe together before you get it in. That way you can make sure that he’s nice and clean all over: his ass, his dick, his balls. He’d probably get a kick out of being able to lather up your pussy and dig out the coochie with a washcloth. Hell, it might even lead to some freaky shit in the shower.”
“Freaky shit like what?” Milena asked.
“One time,” I whispered, sick of the man in the next booth being nosy, “I sucked Ph . . . a dude’s dick in the shower with a bar of soap in my mouth.”
Damn, I had almost fucked up and mentioned Phil. Even though Glenn and I were not together way back then when Donita was dating Timmy, I still didn’t want anyone to know that I was fucking Phil.
“Damn, you do things like that?” Milena asked.
“That’s hot!” Donita seemed excited and perked up. “I need to try that. Thanks, Lydia.”
I glanced at Milena. “Yes, I do things like that. I never play when it comes to sex. If I’m going to fuck a man, I’m going to give him the fuck of his life. If I can’t win a game, I don’t want to play; real talk.”
“You and all of your real talk is going to make you write a check one day that your ass can’t cash,” Milena said.
Sitting there at Baker’s Creek, waiting for Phil to show up with his dick in tow, made me recall those words. I had certainly written the check. Hopefully, I’d never have to cash the damn thing.
Phil came speeding into the parking lot in his pimped‐out metallic blue Ford Fusion with the vanity plate that read URideMe. Nasty ass!
He pulled up beside my white Honda Civic and rolled his window down. I did the same.
“You’re late,” I told him.
“No, I’m not. You said thirty minutes.”
I glanced at the time on my dash. “And it’s been thirty‐two minutes.”
“Whatever, Lydia. I couldn’t be considered late anyway since I told you that I wasn’t coming in the first place.”
“Well, then, why are you here?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Shit, I’m not turning down your pussy.”
I blushed as he rolled up his window, cut his engine, and got out. He climbed into my car.
“You want this dick in here or you want to fuck out in the woods with the animals?”
“Ooh, that’s what I like about you.”
He reached between my legs. I was dressed for church, where I would eventually end up late for the service, in order to cover my ass, but I hadn’t bothered to put on panties. Phil started fingering my wet pussy and I laid my head back and closed my eyes.
“You’ve got that premium shit, Lydia. Men would go to war over this pussy. You know that?” He kept fingering me, setting my pussy on fire. “Sometimes, while I’m at work in that factory, all I can think about is your pussy. How lovely it smells. How wet and creamy it is. How good it tastes. How it drives me crazy when I’m deep inside of you.”
“Damn, Phil, I love it when you do that sexy talk.” I squirmed in the seat, gyrating my pussy on his fingers and holding onto his wrist, guiding the motion. “You’re going to make me come already.”
“No . . .” He tried to pull his fingers out but I continued to grasp his wrist and locked my thighs around his hand. “I don’t want you to come all over that beautiful dress or your car seat. Neither one of them will appreciate your juices as much as me. Let me lick that cat real good for you.”
“I don’t want to do it in the car.” I changed course and pulled Phil’s fingers out of me. “Let’s go out in the woods like you said. I feel like doing something really freaky this morning.”
“You’ve always been my little freak.” Phil smiled as I sucked my own juice off of his fingers. “That shit with Glenn makes no damn sense. He’ll never fuck you like me; that’s why you won’t stop.”
“You won’t stop either,” I reminded him. “I’ve never forced myself on you.”
“And as long as there is a breath in my body, you won’t have to.” Phil licked his fingers one by one to see if I’d left any juice for him. “No one turns me on more than you do, Lydia. We need to come out with it and tell Glenn the truth.”
I slapped Phil across his face, damn near drawing blood. “Don’t ever make that suggestion again, Phil. It’s not going down like that.”
Now the typical man would’ve either slapped my ass back, followed by a serious beatdown, or gotten out of my car and rolled out. Phil sat there, staring at me intently for a moment.
“I’m sorry that I hit you,” I said. “I’m really hormonal right now; that’s not an excuse though. But you know how I get when my period’s about to start.”
“Yeah, it is about that time. Couple more days or so.”
See, that’s the type of shit that Glenn should’ve been on top of, being that we lived together. Phil was more up on my bleeding calendar than my own man. Then again, he’d been digging my back out much longer.
“I bet you are horny, huh? You women start acting all crazy and shit when your Aunt Flo is headed to town.”
“Yeah, we do.” I grabbed Phil’s chin, slipped my thick tongue into his mouth, and bit his bottom lip gently. “But you don’t need to busy yourself worrying about any other woman. I take good care of you, don’t I?”
“Sure you do.” Phil sighed. “But sometimes I wish things were different. What are we really doing here . . . with each other? We fuck damn near every day. I’ve been seeing you longer than Glenn. Yet you want to keep it a secret . . . like you’re ashamed of me or something.”
“It’s not like that, and you know it.” It was exactly like that but I had to lie. “You’ve got a roommate. What do you expect from me? For me to move up in your crib with you and Briscoe? Don’t forget that Glenn has brought me over there before. Briscoe can’t even spell housekeeping, much less do any.”
Phil looked extremely upset. I had to do something quick or he might’ve withheld the dick.
I started rubbing him through his jeans. He was already so hard, he could’ve split bricks. “Come on, Phil. Let’s not start tripping. It’s Sunday morning . . .” I looked around the park. “We’re out here all alone. Last night, you looked so damn good at the party. All I could think about was sucking on your big dick.”
That perked his ass up. “Really?”
“Ooh, yeah.” I unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. “Look at that. It’s a thing of beauty. I was so horny for you last night that I went in the bathroom and played in my pussy until I came.”
“Word.” I ran the tip of my thumb back and forth across the head of his dick. “I was yearning for you, baby. I imagined your fingers all over my body, caressing my tits, my ass. I wanted you to split my pussy wide open with this piece of wood right here.”
I was lying my ass off. There was no way that I would’ve masturbated at the Elks lodge, especially not in that same stall that Ms. Bart was pissing and shitting in half the night.
“You still want to go out in the woods?” Phil asked, grinning.
“Uh‐huh, I want you to fuck me rough . . . hard . . . punish me with your dick.”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t even be able to walk straight.”
I giggled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I reached down on the side of my seat and popped the trunk. “I’ve got a blanket in the trunk. Go get it so we can get it in.”
Phil chuckled and got out of the car. I cut the engine and was about to get out when my phone rang. It was Glenn. I sent him a text message, letting him know that church had started and I would be home right after. Glenn never went to church, unless it was for a funeral or a wedding, so there was no chance of him showing up and seeing that I wasn’t there. However, it was a small town, and I was running the chance that he might bring it up to someone in casual conversation. People in Kannapolis took great joy in busting someone’s bubble. I couldn’t blame them. Boredom could make people do all kinds of trifling shit, like what I was about to do with Phil.
All I can say is there was much to be said for fucking out in the bush. It had its pros and cons, but the idea of doing it someplace different did it for me. I could’ve done without the insects, both those on the ground and the ones flying by. I definitely could’ve done without the animals rustling through the woods and making it seem like a scene out of Friday the 13th when Jason would sneak up on a naked couple so busy getting their groove on that they didn’t notice him about to whack one of their heads off. But what I did like was the breeze teasing my nipples and the hardness of the ground underneath the blanket as Phil plummeted his dick in and out of my pussy. There had been a terrible storm the night before and the ground was still fairly damp, another reason why the park was so deserted.
When we first got out there, I told him to put the blanket down. I lowered to my knees and gave him a serious dick‐sucking. TOOT MOTHERFUCKING TOOT! I had him screaming out like a maniac by the time he came all down in my throat.
“Take your dress off,” Phil said, dropping to the ground in front of me and groping at my clothes. “I want to see every inch of you.”
As soon as it was visible, he grabbed my left tit and started milking it for dear life. “Umm, that’s it. I love breastfeeding you, baby.”
“I want you so bad, Lydia.”
I slipped the rest of my dress off but kept my heels on. “Then take me. Take me right here like a beast. Show me what a powerful fuck feels like. Drill a hole in my snatch.”
I turned around and got down on all fours.
“Oh, you want it from the back, huh?” Phil asked.
“Damn straight. Take all this pussy.”
Phil grabbed onto the sides of my ass and crouched down with his thighs on both sides of me, his knees still elevated and brushing against my sides. Then he laid it on me. I felt the tip of his dick enter me, and within seconds, he was all the way in. He fucked me with reckless abandon. That shit was off the chain and lasted for a good twenty minutes.
I came all over his dick and collapsed to the ground.
“You need to be careful what you ask for.” Phil panted and tried to catch his breath. He lay beside me on the blanket. “I don’t play when it comes to working pussy over.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” I turned over onto my back and then threw my leg over his and started playing with the small hairs on his chest. I kissed the underside of his armpit gently, then laid my head on him. “You’re the truth; real talk.”
Phil was quiet for a moment, and I sensed something was wrong.
I looked up into his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I was wondering, if I’m the truth, why are we out here fucking in the woods instead of setting up house together?”
I rolled my eyes to the sky. “Didn’t we have this conversation back in the car?”
“No, not really. You spoke and I listened.” He pushed me off of him and sat up on his elbows. “Now you’re going to listen to me.”
“Phil, can’t you tell when you’re beating a dead horse? I’m not going to change my mind. You and I function well . . . as fuck buddies. A relationship? That would never work.”
“You don’t know that. How can you even make an assumption like that? We’ve never tried to do the real thing. You were with me first, and instead of trying to make something serious work with me, you went out and made a commitment to my friend. My best fucking friend. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
I took a long breath and counted to ten in silence.
“Do you hear me, Lydia? This is really bothering me, and you don’t seem to get it.” I started to get up. Phil pulled me back down. “I’m sick of you running away from me. We’re going to talk about this. You send me a text message early in the morning, expecting me to whip my dick out on demand, like some good little doggie.”
You are a good little doggie!
“You leave Glenn at home, playing him for a fool, and then come out here and fuck me in the woods. This can’t be the kind of life you want to lead. This shit is wrong.”
“If it’s so fucking wrong, then why are you here, Phil? Huh? Why the fuck are you here?”
Phil sighed and threw his hands over his face. “Because I love you, Lydia. A man doesn’t have sex with a woman for over a decade without developing feelings. A few weeks, a few months, we probably don’t give a damn, but this long? It doesn’t go down that way.”
I could’ve tried to reason with Phil about that. I could’ve tried to convince him that what he thought he was feeling was simply embedded in the power of my vajayjay. But I couldn’t; he was in love with me and part of me had always realized that. It felt good to have him love me. It felt good to always have him near whenever I needed someone to talk to, someone to make me feel wanted . . . and needed.
I decided to put a different spin on it and play on his friendship with Glenn. “Glenn doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good man.”
Phil took his hands off his face and stared at me. “I know that he’s a good man . . . and he’s an even better friend. And no, he doesn’t deserve this, but neither do I.”
“No, you don’t. I dig that. But you’re already hurting. What sense would it make to hurt him also?” I shrugged. “If we officially become a couple, we’d never live that shit down in this town. Everyone in Kannapolis would hate us.”
I thought I had him . . . for a second.
“People cheat in Kannapolis all the time. Hell, having sex is about the only thing to do around here to kill time; either that or getting high or drunk.”
“I could sure use a joint right about now,” I said, mad at myself for not rolling at least one joint before I left the house.
“Who you telling? Me too, and some Jack Daniel’s. You always have that primo shit. I can’t believe you won’t share your hookup with me.”
Now I could get with some weed in the morning to smooth out my thoughts, but the fact that Phil wanted to hit the bottle was a bit much; yet not a surprise. That was typical Phil.
“I don’t tell anybody where I get my weed, Phil. That’s between my supplier and me.”
“What? You his only customer or something? What kind of drug dealer only has one customer?”
“I’m not saying all that,” I replied, thinking that I wasn’t dealing shit, simply growing my own stash. “I’ll ask him if I can bring you around, but I’m not giving you his number, or taking you past his crib without permission. Dealers don’t be playing that, and he’s a huge, brawny motherfucker with an arsenal sitting close by.”
“Shit, is it safe for you to roll through there?”
“Yes, it’s all copacetic between us. Plus, I’ve become a chat buddy of his chick.”
“That’s cool. That’s cool.”
I was a bit upset that Phil had gone from professing his love for me in one breath to worrying about where I bought my ciggaweed the next. How significant could I really have been?
“I need to get to church,” I said, getting up and starting to get dressed.
“You’re a trip. Fucking me out in the woods and then going to church.”
“Hey, I’m not the only sinner that’ll be packing the pews this morning. Except I’ve never professed to be a saint. There are plenty of sluts up in church every Sunday.”
“You’re not a slut, Lydia. You’re special.” Phil got up and pulled his pants up.
“Yes, I am special. One of these days I’m going to get out of this town. Maybe go to Hollywood and become a movie star.” I twirled in my dress and heels. “You think I’m pretty enough to be a movie star? Or a model?”
“I think you’re pretty enough to be whatever you want to be. Look how wide open you’ve got my nose. I’m not an easy man to catch, but you’ve got me; hook, line, and sinker.”
“Are you seriously telling me that you don’t fuck around with any other women?”
“I have in the past. I won’t lie. But lately, it hasn’t felt right . . . being with someone else. They don’t do anything for me, so there’s no point in bothering with it. If I know I can get a broad, that’s the thrilling part. These women around here are easy. No challenge. No challenge at all.”
Phil started folding up the blanket as I stared at his ass through his jeans.
“Is that what it is with me? Am I a challenge, Phil?”
“That you are.” He must’ve realized what I was thinking. “But that’s not why I want you. I love you; always have.”
“I bet that if I was ever foolish enough to leave Glenn for you, we’d be all lovey dovey for a few months and then you’d leave me for the next piece of ass.”
Phil finished folding up the blanket, lodged it under his right arm, and wrapped his left arm around my waist. He gazed into my eyes. “Never. I would never leave you. In fact, I’m never going to leave you now. I’ll always be with you, for as long as you want to be with me.”
Phil sounded so sincere; it frightened me.
I pulled away from his embrace. “We need to get out of here.” I lifted one of my heels. “Look at all of this mud on my shoes.”
“Yeah, that rain last night was no joke.” I laughed. “That wasn’t rain. That was a kick‐ass storm. For a minute it looked like the lightning was coming in through the front door, doing the electric slide across the carpet, and break-dancing out the back door.”
“Yeah, that storm was deep. Must’ve been because it was so hot yesterday.”
“Well, it was hot out here in these woods today.” I kissed Phil gently on the lips. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“Thanks for letting me dick feed you for breakfast.”
“You’re so nasty . . . but I like it.”
Phil and I walked back toward our cars, hand in hand. It was too late for me to make the eight o’clock church service, even entering late. I decided to take my chances, kill about thirty minutes at the local Target, head on home, and pretend like I’d been there all along. I planned to take a shower, get my Sunday dinner started, and then head over to Milena’s to get the 4‐1‐1 on Yosef.