“Nah.” He moved his arm away from me, making me think I’d asked the wrong thing. “Just Manny, but he’s one of my cornermen, so he kind of has to be there.”
“Is he all you have?”
“You nosy as fuck.” He chuckled subtly, taking a sip of his bourbon.
He wasn’t dressed to impress either, but the simple gray shirt, dark jeans, and gray Chucks looked sexy on him as usual. Tonight he just wore a watch and bracelet with no chain. And his smell, it was rogue and woodsy with a hint of sweetness, making it so perfect. I’d gotten used to it by now, and I loved it. I had to figure out what it was.
“I’m sorry. You’re just so mysterious in a way, so I wanted to know if you had any family.”
He looked straight ahead for a minute, at the white people seated near the small fountain, laughing. He wasn’t staring at them per se; it just seemed like he was thinking.
“I had a brother, but he’s not around. My pops, I don’t know where he is. He was always a drinker, especially when money wasn’t there. He got me into boxing actually. But yeah, when I was seven, he and my mom broke up, then when I was sixteen, he disappeared from my life altogether; he just left one day and that was that.
My mama… she and I don’t really fuck with each other like that. Growing up, I was into a lot of shit outside of boxing, and some bad shit happened, so I’m not her favorite son, I can say that.” He looked to me and I nodded slowly.
“Okay, we have the grilled chicken croquettes for an appetizer.” The waitress appeared and set them down. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” I said lowly since she was already skating off. “What did you do outside of boxing? Gang banging?”
“How you know?” He gave me a half smile. He was so handsome, and the way the light shone down on his smooth, deep brown skin was heavenly to look at.
“I grew up in LA; most of y’all niggas are gang bangers.”
He laughed.
“Yeah, you right. Neighborhood Piru… Rogers Park.”
“See, I be knowing.” I tossed my hair back, and he just smiled. “Also, I saw that NH Belly tattoo on your hand earlier.” I chortled when he made a face at me.
“Had me thinking you was a gangsta bitch and shit, but you a muthafuckin’ fraud.”
“I’m not!” I chuckled. “Even if I didn’t see it, I would have known. You gave me banger vibes back at the t-shirt store.”
“Whatever, fraud.”
Chuckling, I asked, “Why the nickname Belly?”
“The word belli with an ‘I’ means war… conflict. That’s why it’s in words like belligerent, bellicose, rebellion. Growing up, I was always fighting and going at it with niggas, so people started calling me Belly, but with a ‘y’ because that ‘I’ shit is gay.”
“Wow. I wasn’t even close. And you have like an eight pack now, but I assumed you were fat as a kid or something.”
“Nah.” He grinned, sipping his drink again. “So why you fuck with a nigga that ain’t ready to murder muthafuckas when you leave his side?”
“Huh?”
“I took you… at the party, and he ain’t even think twice about it.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “He’s like that when he’s at those industry events. He’s into them, trying to do business instead of relaxing, so his mind is elsewhere.”
“My mind was on my fucking match the whole time, but I kept an eye on you.” He looked down into my face seriously. I looked away because I had nothing to say. “Made sure you stayed put the whole time, next to your ciabatta bread titty having ass homegirl.”
My jaw dropped at his insult on Nichole’s boob job.
“Do not say that about her. Mine aren’t real either.”
“I don’t mind fake shit at all, long as it looks good to a nigga. But you need to check on her ass because them muthafuckas are about to burst open.”
Snickering, I replied, “Don’t be mean to my friend.”
“She’s for sure not ya fucking friend, Blaise.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Whole time we were in Vegas, she was messaging me, trying to fuck with me. Granted she’s been in my DM’s for months, trying to get fucked, but she was doing the most to try to get in front of you and on me.”
I was usually never surprised by Nichole’s antics, but I didn’t think she’d try to fuck a nigga that was clearly interested in me on the low. Then again, this was Nichole, a homegrown hoe through and through.
“That’s Nichole for you. I know how she is.”
“Well as long as you peep game, it’s all good.” He sat back, looking good enough to eat. “Who’s your baby’s father?”
“Five-Star, the producer,” I answered begrudgingly. “I thought everyone knew that, unfortunately.”
“I’ve heard different things, but I wanted to know from you. Am I gon’ have to fuck him up, or does he let you be?” he inquired nonchalantly, so I knew he’d do it.
“He’s cool,” I lied. “We broke up before I even had my baby.”
“Why?” he quizzed immediately after I said that.
“He was cheating on me too much. I tried to work it out because I was young, stupid, thought I was in love, and pregnant with his baby, but it didn’t work. And after I ended it, he just hated me and was mean to me, or roughing me up all the time, so yeah… that’s done.”
When I was finished talking, Belly kissed me. His lips were cold and juicy, making my clit throb slightly. After a few more pecks, he pulled away, so I wiped some of my gloss off of him. To be so rough, I loved how soft yet passionate he kissed. It was so good that I hated to kiss him while out, because it always got me wet.
“Niggas are stupid as fuck. I definitely ain’t the best nigga, but I’m not about to have a female pregnant with my kid and doing dumb shit. I’m not making no muthafuckin’ babies until I’m ready to do that whole family thing, which will probably be never.”
“Never?” I was a little bummed to hear that when I shouldn’t have been. I had a man.
“Unless it’s yo’ fine ass.” He pinched my chin, grinning hard and showing off his perfect smile. I knew he was lying, but for some reason, it made me feel better. “You private as fuck on social media; I like that. I mean, as far as your personal life, because you do post a lot of sexy pictures.”
“I only post bikini shots here and there though.”
“You’re sexy as fuck even with clothes on. The way you position ya body and shit, your facial expressions… You’re just sexy naturally, so it comes off in ya pictures, even the fully clothed ones.”
“Well thank you.”
“You blushing and shit. Fuck you blushing for?” He smirked. I was so embarrassed that I looked away and took a sip of my wine.
The food finally came, and we continued to talk over dinner. Belly was a very interesting person, and to my surprise, I liked being around him for reasons other than his good looks. It was a bittersweet feeling because just this quickly, I was starting to like him, but I shouldn’t have been. Outside of the fact that I had Merlin, Belly had ‘friends’, and that wouldn’t work for me.
After dinner, we went back to the room so we could change for the club tonight. I was honestly happy as hell that I’d come out on this random trip, because I’d been having a lot more fun than expected; those multiple orgasm sessions being one of the most fun.
“Come here,” Belly commanded as soon as I removed my dress. I only had on my panties at this point.
Walking over in the lowly lit room, I watched him stare me down in awe. Once I got close, he started to kiss me, passionately but hungrily, while backing me to the bed. Throwing me down, he took off his shirt, then his jeans, before removing his boxers. He climbed between my legs after grabbing a condom, and began removing my panties.
“Cortez, I have a boyfriend,” I whined.
“Too late for all that shit.” He started to suck on my nipples, toying with my nipple rings, and then made his way down until he was face to face with my pussy.
Slowly, he kissed on my thighs as my middle ached, yearning for his mouth. Finally, making eye contact with me, he took my clit into his mouth and began sucking. My back arched as my hands grasped the bedspread, while he held my legs a part. I was drenched already, so the sound of him eating my pussy could definitely be heard.
“Cortez,” I whimpered, feeling my body become stiff and my knees slightly knock.
Roughly, he re-parted my legs, groaning out of pleasure while eating me. I let loose right into his mouth, and he rose up a little, going harder. I couldn’t do anything but scrape at his fresh haircut as he brought me to another orgasm. Pulling away, he licked his lips slowly while staring down between my legs.
“Top it off.” He nodded down to his dick once he was standing.
Crawling toward him, I got comfortable on my feet and took his dick into my mouth. Gripping my hair, he tilted my head back and began fucking my face as he nibbled on his lip. He was so tall, solid, and sexy with a nice amount of ruggedness.
“Shit. I wanna feel yo’ throat,” he grumbled, gliding in and out of my mouth as he looked down at me.
I let him take complete control, allowing him to fuck my face as I let my saliva flow and my tongue snake around. He pulled me off, flipped me over, and pressed the top half of my body into the bed, before putting the condom on. He groped my ass cheeks with his strong hands, then spread them before forcing the tip in.
Grabbing my waist tightly, he began pounding me hard, making our skin clash and clap. Right when he got me on edge, he slid out slowly as hell, making me cum all over him.
“Oh my gosh.” I panted. My body collapsed, so he pinned my hands to the bed and pummeled my pussy from behind like it’d be his last time.
As I sniveled and cried, he sucked on my lips, never slowing up no matter how many times I came.
“You tired, Blaise.” He groped on my ass as he kissed down my completely wet back.
I couldn’t respond as he bit my ass cheek before lifting my bottom half and sucking my clit very gently. It was nice and slow, yet because I was sensitive at this point, I came in seconds.
Turning me onto my back, he pressed my thighs into my body and then slid back in. He watched himself for a few moments, going in and out of me, before he let my legs down and lowered himself. He latched onto my body tightly as I locked my legs around him, and as he kissed me hungrily, he beat my pussy up to the point where I was silent.
“Fuck,” he growled, propping himself up a bit to go harder. Soon enough, he and I were releasing together.
After breathing heavily for what seemed like forever, we finally got up to shower. It wasn’t until after he tore me apart doggy-style under the water, did we actually wash off and get out.
Once dressed, we met up with his friends and then went to the club hand in hand. I had no idea what I was doing but… I liked it.
My plane had finally landed back in LA, and your girl was feeling relaxed… content. I was about to see my baby, I had a fun weekend, and I got the part in that movie. Only thing I could complain about was the soreness of my body, but the reasoning behind it had me smiling.
BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ!
As soon as my phone caught service while I was walking through the airport, I saw I was being tagged in a bunch of comments on Instagram and had a few messages. Tapping one of the comments, I saw an article had been posted to one of those gossip blogs with the headline, Is Boxer Belly Smashing Five-Star’s BM Blaise? Attached they had pictures of me backstage at his Vegas fight, me going into the St. Louis club with he and his ContraBandz gang, and then the picture of my sneakers.
“Shit,” I mumbled.
I decided to wear the collaboration sneakers on the plane, and posted a picture of them on my story, just because they were dope. I didn’t think about the fact that these shoes were exclusively given to Belly early, and now people were connecting the dots. Them damn blogs were like the Feds, clocking my location, my background, and every damn thing.
At least they had no photos of us kissing, holding hands, or anything of that nature. It just looked like we were hanging out, so I wasn’t too worried.
Belly
Two days later…
As I spit out my mouthwash into the sink, Kharla walked into my bathroom with my iPhone in her hand since it was ringing. Taking it from her, I ignored the dumb ass look she had on her face and answered it.
“Sup.”
“Hey, Belly, man, your mother missed her payment for the rent again.” my mama’s landlord spoke into the phone.
“And? Fuck you telling me for?”
“Well I know usually when she misses a payment, you come through for her, so I was just—”
“Don’t call my muthafuckin’ phone no more with this bullshit, Norman, aight? One more time, and I’m gon’ fuck yo’ ass up. You want ya money, you talk to Christine yaself.”
“Yes, sir. I apolo—“
I hung up the phone before he could finish and placed it down onto the sink. My mama and I kept our distance from one another, for good reason, and I hated when niggas tried to involve me in her business, because for some stupid ass reason, I would get the urge to step in. Me stepping in only made our relationship worse, so I got to a point where I just stopped fucking with her ass. Shit had been smooth since then.
Walking out of my bathroom and into my bedroom, I grabbed some fresh boxers just as Kharla plopped down onto my bed and breathed heavily. I knew she wanted a nigga to ask what was wrong, but I honestly didn’t give a fuck so I continued on, taking out my socks and whatever else I planned to put on for training this afternoon.
“Cortez,” she finally snapped.
“What?” I didn’t look her way as I continued pulling out my gym shit.
“Who is this girl they’re claiming you fuck with now? Blaise?”
“Google her if you wanna know who the fuck she is.”
“Cortez, you know what I mean.” She came over to where I was by my dresser. “Did you seriously fly her out to Las Vegas and St. Louis?”
“If that’s what that shit say, then that’s what I did. Fuck you questioning me for? I ain’t yo’ nigga. I fuck you and have a meal or two with yo’ ass when I feel like it. None of that bullshit gives you the authority to question me about another bitch. It’s like you slow or some shit.”
The tears pooling in her eyes did nothing for me, so I kept eye contact with her as I pulled my basketball shorts up.
“I know you fuck other girls, and Sienna plus the others were already enough, but now you got this one, and you’re flying her places? Why can’t you just sleep with her and let that be it? I’m here for all the other stuff.”
“’Cause sometimes I get bored with yo’ ass.” I moved around her to put my shoes and shit on, and felt her staring at me.
“Yet you fucked me last night.”
“Yeah, because ya pussy and head game is on point. Shit don’t have anything to do with me fucking other females. Now get the rest of yo’ shit. I gotta go.”
With an attitude, she snatched her purse and small duffle bag, before we both left out of my crib.
“I can come watch you train. I don’t have anything to do today.”
“Nah, you good.” As we walked, I saw she was acting all somber and shit, so I stopped her, turning her to face me. “Aye, Kharla, when I first started fucking with you, I had this exact energy. I’m telling you right now, the same shit I always have; this situation between us ain’t gon’ ever change. When I wanna smash a new bitch, I will, and when I wanna fly her out or do whatever the fuck it is that pleases me, I will.
So either you gon’ fuck with me and act like you know what it is, or you gon’ leave me the fuck alone. I got much more important shit to deal with, so I have no time to even pretend to give a fuck about the bullshit you attempt to dump on me. You ponder on that and make a decision.”
“I don’t need to think, Cortez. I want you.”
“Move yo’ car so I can get out,” was all I s
aid in response as I hopped in my whip to leave.
I went straight to the gym to train for a good three hours with Victor, then I headed home for a quick shower before going to my mother’s apartment complex off Eucalyptus.
We both stayed in Inglewood, not the best area at all, but it was home. It was crazy to me that my mama and I stayed in the same city but acted like we didn’t even know one another.
After parking along the street, I hopped out and entered, looking for the landlord’s office so I could drop the rent money off in secret. I didn’t wanna see my mama or for her to see me, because I knew it would be some shit, and I wasn’t in the mood. As I tread toward the office, I saw the door was open, so I slipped in, only to see my mother in there already with Norman, talking.
“Belly, I swear I didn’t call again—”
“Calm yo’ scary ass down, nigga.” I hissed at Norman, irritated by how much of a bitch he was and at the fact that my attempts to not run into my mama had failed. Her scoffing upon seeing me didn’t help either. “Here, muthafucka.” I handed Norman the envelope.
“That better not be for my spot! Give him his fucking money back. I don’t want it!” she barked. The anger in her fucking eyes was something else.
“Are you sure, Mrs. Khalil? You’re behind, and if I don’t have the money by the end of the week, you’re going to have to look for a new place.” Norman stared her down with worried eyes.
“Fuck it.” She stormed out, bumping me along the way.
“You’re welcome, Christine,” I said as she passed me.
“Make this the last time you drop by here to pay my rent. I don’t know how many times I have to tell your stupid ass that. No wonder your father beat on you. You don’t listen, and you’re worth nothing. I wish he was here now to tear your ass apart.”
“Doubt it. I get paid to fuck niggas up, you ain’t heard?” I grinned, finding her irritation comical. I admit her words did sting a little bit, but I was used to the shit by now.
“Yes, well hopefully you’ll end up like one of those who died in the ring. Now that’s a match I will come see.”
Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do Page 8