To Love a No Good Nigga

by Phoenix Williams



  TO TRUST A NO GOOD NIGGA

  PHOENIX WILLIAMS

  © 2013 by Phoenix Williams. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Phoenix Williams

  DEDICATION

  To all of those who have supported me along the way and have grown to love these three sisters as much as I have, this book is for you.

  PART I

  Chapter 1

  SPARROW

  “I fucking hate you!”

  Onyx eyes leered at me. If looks could kill my behind would have been dead for sure. As heads turned toward us in the dark restaurant, I fought to remain cool. I refused to pull out my clown suit in public.

  “You knew what this was from the beginning. I don’t understand why you are so upset,” I said. Honestly, I didn’t know. It wasn’t as if I had lied to him or misled him. He knew what I wanted from the start.

  His jaw ticked as he leaned across the table, a frown marring his beautiful chocolate face. His balled up fists made the muscles in his arms more pronounced. “You don’t understand?” his voice took on a deadly quality that I had never heard from him before. “I gave you my love, Sparrow. I offered you what I never offered any other woman. I gave you my heart and what did you do with it? You pierced it with your stilettos, fucking she-devil!”

  The distressed look on his face softened my heart a little, but not enough to stop me from gathering my things. The only sounds audible in the restaurant were his labored breathing and the hushed tones of the other patrons, who were more than likely discussing his outburst.

  Slipping on my cashmere coat, I looked at him one last time as I stood and took a deep breath. It took everything in me to calmly respond, “Sean, I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression. I am not a ‘forever’ type of girl. I’m a 'for right now' kind of girl. I did not ask you for your love, heart, or future and I certainly don’t want it.”

  With my held high, I walked out of the restaurant and into the cool February night. I could feel the eyes of everyone on my back as I walked away.

  “Sparrow, you’re just a heartless bitch.”

  Looking up from my paperwork, I rolled my eyes at my sisters, Raven and Robin. Together, the three of us owned Lady Bird Interior Designs.

  Robin, at 32, was the oldest. She resembled our father the most with her peanut butter complexion, wide set brown eyes, short dark brown hair, slender nose, and full lips. At 5’6, she was the shortest out of all us but packed a lot of body in that frame. Generous breasts and a small waist that flared out to ample hips garnered lots of attention. Attention that she was finally doing something about now that she had become baby crazy.

  Raven, 29, was the middle child. She resembled our mother with her hazelnut complexion, light brown eyes, and shoulder length jet black hair. Standing at 5’8”, she had what most would call a supermodel physique, tall and willowy with small breasts and small hips.

  She had been married to her husband, Dean, for ten years. Most would assume that she was happy, but I knew my sister. Most would also assume that her husband was a successful businessman, but I knew better. Last time I checked, running a criminal empire did not make you a businessman.

  I was the tallest of my sisters at 5’10” and the perfect mixture of both parents with my caramel complexion, big breasts, Beyoncé behind, brownish gold hair, full lips, and brown eyes. At 27, I was the youngest of the Bird sisters, yes the Bird sisters.

  My father, Jay Bird, thought it would be cute to name all of his children after birds. Of course my docile mother, Tianna, did not object. So my family consisted of Jay Bird, Tianna “T” Bird, Robin Bird, Raven Bird (now Smith), Sparrow Bird, and my little brother, Blue Bird.

  Turning my attention back to the two nosey women sitting in my kitchen and eating my food, I asked, “How am I a heartless bitch?” Taking a sip of my coffee, I continued, “I told him what was up, if he decided to fall in love that’s his own problem. Not mine.”

  “You can’t keep hopping from bed to bed, man to man. These men have feelings, Sparrow,” Robin said with exasperation lurking in her eyes.

  “Robin’s right. Plus, you can’t decide to fall in love. It just happens. You don’t choose when or who,” stated Raven, sadness wafting from her in solemn waves. Instinctively, I knew she was not talking about me.

  Not wanting to hear her go on and on about her dysfunctional marriage, I quickly interrupted her, “I’m really not trying to hear all this. It’s my life and I’ll live it the way I want. Neither of you are in a position to tell me what to do with my life since neither one of your shit is exactly smelling like roses.”

  Heartless bitch and she-devil were words I definitely wouldn’t have used to describe myself. Did I have a lot of male company? Yes. Did I open myself up to these men? No. Did I open my legs to them? Yes. Why? It was easier to open my legs than my heart.

  I never wanted to be at the mercy of another human being. I didn’t want my heart or my life to be controlled at the whims of a man. I refused to become like my sisters, single and desperate or married and miserable.

  The scraping of silverware against plates, the thud of cups hitting my antique dining table, and the shuffling of papers were the only sounds heard as we went over the company’s books. Each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  Chapter 2

 

  The scent of Issey Miyake Intense mixed with sweat and pure male invaded my personal space, instantly making my panties wet. There was nothing like a nice smelling man to make me want to drop my Vicki Secrets. It surprised me that a scent so seductive could come from a man in this place. Most men walked around this gym smelling like barnyard animals. Then they had the nerve to want to occupy your personal space and assault your air supply.

  Surreptitiously, I glanced to my left while continuing my jog on the treadmill and I definitely wasn’t disappointed by what I saw. Mr. Smell-So-Good stood about 6’4” and his skin was the color of melted dark chocolate. It looked just as smooth and tasty. He had close cropped hair, no apparent piercings, and dimples so deep that you could see them even if he wasn’t smiling. His nails were clean which is important because I didn’t want anything dirty and unkempt near my honey pot.

  Yep, I thought to myself, he will definitely make a nice addition to my stable. Yes, I said stable. Most men, or at least men like my father, kept a team of lovers at their disposal.

  They had their main woman—also known as the bottom bitch. That was the woman who was always there even after they messed up, kind of like my mother. The other women on the team were usually the young one—she was usually between the ages of 21 and 30 depending on your age. The sexy one, she was usually way more gorgeous than your bottom bitch but was more high maintenance. And lastly, your hood chick. She was the one who was willing to do hood rat things for her man.

  The issue with the whole team situation was that men weren’t smart enough to keep everyone happy and in the dark about each other. Eventually everyone found out about each other and the man always ended up recruiting new players with the exception of their bottom bitch.

  Now, I only recruited when one of my hoes wanted to leave the stable for greener pastures, had gotten complacent, or had suddenly developed feelings. I had three hoes in the stable. I kept them on a rotational basis so I never get bored and there was no risk of me catching feelings.

  Everyone knew about each other and they also knew that they could be replaced at the drop of a hat. That kept them from getting complacent. There were only three guidelines to being accepted into my exclusive st
able. You had to have your own because I was damn sure not about to give you any of mine, you had to be fine as hell, and you had better know how work my ass in the bedroom.

  A brush against my arm brought me back to the present. Turning my head to the side, I looked straight into the greenest eyes that I had ever seen on a man so dark. Quickly, I slowed my treadmill down before turning back towards him. The last thing I wanted to do was fall on my face in front of him.

  “Hi, I’m Isaiah. I’m not good with lines, so I’ll just be upfront. I’ve been coming here for a while now and seen you around. I think you’re insanely beautiful and I want to get know you better. That is, if you’re single.”

  His smile was infectious and I found myself returning it. “Nice to meet you Isaiah, I’m Sparrow,” I said throatily as I reached for his outstretched hand. “Thank you for the compliment and yes I’m single.” I wasn’t exactly lying. I wasn’t committed to any one of those fools in my stable.

  Still holding my hand, his eyes swept over me seemingly taking in every detail. I knew for sure that he saw my pebbled nipples through my tank top and smelled my arousal when I saw his nostrils flare and his eyes turn a deeper shade of green.

  “Look Sparrow, I have to take off. I promised my brother that I would help him move today. Can I get your number and call you later?”

  Boldly, I reached for his phone and entered my digits before taking his. As I watched him walk toward the men’s locker room, I had the strangest feeling that life was about to get interesting.

  Chapter 3

 

  Six weeks after I met Isaiah I was finally ready to see if he could work me out. My sisters said I was a walking contradiction. How could a woman with a professed “stable of hoes” make a man wait six weeks to have sex? Just because I was a freak didn’t mean I was an easy freak.

  Most of my hoes had been in my life for years. So, if I was recruiting I needed to make sure that I could at least tolerate you. I needed to know important things like do you have a girlfriend? A crazy baby mama? Do you have a job? Do you get attached easily? Did you graduate from high school? Stuff like that.

  Tonight was the night that I was going to let Isaiah prove that he belonged in my stable. I needed to know if he could smack it, flip it, and rub it down, honey. Of course, he had been insinuating that he could satisfy me since our first date. Double entendres and sexual innuendoes had kept my pussy’s furnace on low simmer, but tonight I needed it on full blast.

  As my doorbell rang, I stole one last look in the mirror and confirmed what I already knew, I looked like sex personified. A black lace halter top cupped my 36DD breast and skimmed over my flat stomach. The black mini leather skirt hugged my behind and showed off my long legs and slender feet which were encased in red and leopard Steve Madden stilettos. Soft curls framed my face, which was clear of makeup with the exception of dark eyeliner and red lipstick.

  Opening the door, Isaiah did not disappointment with his reaction. As he stood there with his mouth hanging open, I took a few seconds to stare at him. He was looking fine as ever in dark True Religion jeans, a powder blue polo, chocolate brown blazer, and chocolate loafers. His slight five o’clock shadow gave him a roguish effect and made him look slightly older than his age of 29.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked. It was obvious I had been caught staring at him.

  His green eyes matched the bright smile on his face, “I said you look beautiful tonight and then I asked if you were ready to go.”

  Nodding, I slipped on my leather jacket and locked up my house. Getting into his Audi A4 I chuckled to myself. The way we were dressed you’d think we were heading out to paint the town red. Instead, we were just hitting up the bar before seeing a movie. That was one of the many things I liked about Isaiah, he never needed an excuse to clean himself up.

  If I was truly honest with myself I would have to admit that there were a lot of things that I liked about Isaiah. His intelligence, social conscience, sense of humor, and sensitivity appealed to me on so many levels. It also didn’t hurt that his ambition knew no bounds and he was extremely attractive. Yeah, if I was genuinely honest with myself I’d have to admit that I liked him more than I probably should have.

  Chapter 4

 

  He’s nervous! The thought hit me suddenly as we rode through the streets of Chicago listening to Trey Songz. Drinks had been fantastic, the movie had been hilarious, and now we were taking in the sights. Chicago may not be usually associated with romance but the way the Loop lit up at night could make even the coldest and most cynical of hearts tingle a bit, mine included.

  “Isaiah?” I asked softly.

  “Yeah, baby?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the road.

  I rested my hand on his atop the gearshift, “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting tense all night. Is everything alright at work?” I knew he had been under a lot of stress at his job as a QA analyst.

  Stopping at a red light, he looked at me, the streetlight highlighting the angles in his face, “Naw love, everything is cool at work. You know I don’t lie, so I’ll just be honest.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I want you Sparrow. Badly. I’m trying to be the gentleman that my mama raised me to be but I don’t know how much longer I can keep being chivalrous while knowing how badly I want to lie between your thighs.”

  The light turned green but he didn’t move, not even when other cars behind us started honking. Removing my hand from his, I placed it on his right knee, “I want you just as bad. Let’s go home.”

  Just like that, he demonstrated how an Audi could go from 0 to 60 in seconds. Weaving in out of traffic, he got us onto the Eisenhower Expressway in ten minutes. That time of night there wasn’t much traffic on the expressway. Putting the car in cruise control, Isaiah reached over and grazed my left breast. Immediately, my nipple puckered and brushed against the fabric cupping it.

  Trailing my hand upward slowly from his knee to muscular thigh, I felt him shudder and harden beneath my fingertips. The chemistry in the car changed, electrified with lust, arousal, and awareness as Trey sung about being inside of a woman.

  I gently, yet firmly, stroked him through the soft denim. Tiny moans and ragged breaths slipped through his full lips. The long, thick fingers on his left hand clenched and unclenched the steering wheel repeatedly. Those same fingers on the right hand created a fiery path between my breasts, down my stomach to my thighs. My core pulsated in anticipation. My skirt inched up to my upper thighs as I leaned my chair all the way back in a blatant invitation. Hearing my silent plea, his hand slowly, purposefully made its way up my skirt. Chuckling softly, I knew he would soon find out my secret.

  “Damn, Sparrow. Fuck you trying to do to me, huh?” he asked feverishly.

  All I could do was sigh in response as his strong fingers stroked my plump nether lips. No panties made my treasure easily accessible. I slowly lifted my hips matching him stroke for stroke as he delved deeper in my ocean. I had never felt so alive with the sounds of cars whizzing by, the feel of his fingers bringing me closer to climax, and the scent of arousal filling my nostrils. I was aware of it all.

  Suddenly, he rolled all the windows down and it became too much. The combination of his fingers inside me, thumb crushing my clit, my own hands teasing my nipples, and the cool, damp air caressing my feverish body began to push me over the orgasmic cliff. Groans escaped my slightly opened lips.

  “Cum for me Sparrow.”

  That was all I needed to hear. Gripping the headrest, I let go for Isaiah the way I had never let go for any other man. Squirting all over his hand, buttery soft leather seats, and dashboard as a monumental orgasm overtook me. Never before had I allowed myself to release that much so soon. It was as if I had no power over myself, over my body.

  Isaiah stroked my slick, pulsating outer lips as I came down from my sexual high. Turning my head to the side, my gaze collid
ed with green pools of lust. Winking at me, he turned up the radio and I dozed off to Trey crooning about love faces.

  Chapter5

 

  Cool air from my open door woke me from my light slumber and I turned to put my hand in Isaiah’s. As we walked up the sidewalk leading up to my two-story home, I knew I had to dominate the situation. The escapade in the car scared me. I had willingly given him control over me. That was something I had never done before. I was always in control. It was easier to keep my feelings from surfacing that way. Inserting the key in the lock, I pushed open the heavy wooden door. No words were spoken as we entered and I set my keys on the side table.

  You’ve never been shy Sparrow, I thought to myself, no use in starting now. In the middle of my expansive dimly lit foyer I began stripping out of my clothing with my back towards him. First, I removed my shoes, letting them land with a thud against the wooden floors. I let my hands skim my body from the bottom of my skirt to the hem of my tank.

  Grabbing hold of the fabric, I lifted it over my head. The only sounds audible in the room were those of Isaiah’s labored breathing and the whisper of lace hitting wood. Last to be removed was the mini skirt. I slowly let down the zipper and let it slide down my body. Rotating my head to the right, I gave him a sexy wink and walked towards the stairs.

  Before I could take five steps, I was swept up in strong arms and my back was brought against chocolate covered marble. Taking my earlobe into his mouth, Isaiah lightly suckled before whispering, “You like doing this don’t you Sparrow?”

  I could hear him talking but my overheated brain couldn’t register the words. When I didn’t answer him quickly enough he bit down on my neck. Groaning, I arched into him.

  “You like teasing men don’t you, Sparrow? You like controlling them?” When his questions were answered with another series of moans he pinched my nipples roughly. “Answer me!”

  “YES!” I screamed. I couldn’t take much more of his teasing me, touching me everywhere except where I craved to be touched.