She Gave Her All to the Hood's Finest 5

by Shvonne Latrice

  “Is Haleigh in her room?” I started to the stairs.

  “Oh no, she left somewhere with my mama. She stopped crying once she saw grandma.”

  Then it hit me that Holli’s ass had lied. Holli was an aight mother, but most times when she had our daughter, she pawned her off to her mama, who lived here occasionally… I think. I wasn’t sure really.

  “For real, Holli? It’s late. I been at the fucking studio all day. I don’t have time for these games.”

  “Sit down.” She walked over, shoving me onto the couch. “You need to relax. Seems like you haven’t had any fun in a while.”

  “I don’t need fun.” I tried to get up, but Frida pushed me back down, straddling my lap.

  “Feels like you need something.” She referred to my dick hardening under her.

  “Frida, move.” I spoke calmly, feeling like I was about to nut in my jeans. She’d begun untying her top, and I knew if I saw her titties, I would crack.

  “When was the last time you had a threesome, baby daddy?” Holli drank some of her wine, rubbing my head while Frida started to unbuckle my jeans.

  I hated Holli’s ass, but her pussy and sex game had always been good. Fucking her and Frida at the same time would have me busting unlimited nuts.

  Just when I felt myself losing control, my phone rang in my pocket. I reached for it just as Frida put her hand in my boxers, while Holli tried to lift my thermal top, and saw it was Rubie calling. That sensual feeling vanished almost immediately as I put Frida to the side and hopped up.

  “I gotta go. Holli, I’m not fucking playing with you. Frida ain’t even like this, and you got her acting a fucking fool like you. Don’t pull this shit no more!” I hollered as I buckled my jeans and redid my belt. When I caught a glimpse of Frida, she was fixing her shirt, looking embarrassed.

  “Or what? Seems like you wanted it. That dick was harder than I’d ever seen.” Holli pursed her lips and raised her brows, making that face bitches did when they had some tea to spill.

  “Frida, baby, please stop hanging with her ass. You better than this.”

  “Am I, Eitan?” She got up from the couch and grabbed her purse.

  “Yeah, you are.”

  “Oh, okay, and that’s why you accused me of being a hoe the whole time we dated, then cheated. Yeah, it must be because I’m worth so much.” She walked toward the door to leave, so I followed her.

  “Bye, baby daddy!” Holli shouted.

  “It’s Eitan, and I meant what the fuck I said, Holli.” I shut the door behind myself then jogged to catch Frida. “Aye, Frida. I know I said it already, but again, I’m sorry.”

  “Okay, cool.” She unlocked her car.

  “I’m serious. Just because we didn’t work out don’t mean you ain’t a good woman. I was just already in love with Rubie before we even started. I should’ve left you alone, but I liked you and couldn’t. Don’t blame yaself, because you never had a chance. It ain’t like you and Rubie started at the same level; she had a head start… a big ass one.

  “I swear though, had there been no Rubie or no connection with Rubie, I would be with you.”

  I felt like I was betraying my girl saying this, but I couldn’t have Frida acting foul over my actions.

  “Thanks.” She wiped her tears, so I brought her into a hug.

  “You forgive me?”

  “A little.”

  We chuckled.

  “Please stop hanging with Holli. She ain’t no good. She’s using you to break up Rubie and I.”

  “What if I want you two to break up?”

  “Frida—”

  “I love you, Eitan.”

  Kissing her forehead, I replied, “Text me when you get home so I know you made it. Go straight home.”

  She nodded with a smile before hopping into her car. I closed her door for her then went to my own shit.

  Immediately, I started it up and went straight home.

  Per usual, Rubie was asleep, so this was now a month I’d gone without sex. This shit was a true test of my fidelity.

  9

  Jilly Terranova

  I finished slicing up some strawberries to put on top of the waffles I’d made for myself and Nehemiah, then scooped the eggs and sausage onto the plate with it. Once I had the food down, along with the glasses of orange juice, I texted him to come downstairs and eat. The condo we’d gotten was a nice size, so I wasn’t about to try to yell, and I definitely wasn’t about to go upstairs to get his ass.

  “Damn, you whipped it up.” Nehemiah walked into the kitchen, rubbing his hands together.

  Today he was ‘off’ in a sense, since all he had to do was edit, no meetings or actual shoots. I remembered him saying shooting the video was the easy part though, and editing was where all the work came from, which was why for that he charged by the hour.

  “I did, and just for you.”

  “Why? What you do?” He sat back, eyeing me after saying a prayer over this lovely meal.

  “Excuse you? I didn’t do anything. I just knew you’d be home all day, so I wanted to make some breakfast for you. I made your lunch for today yesterday, since I know editing takes up a lot of your time. You order too much fast food when you’re off.”

  “Okay. Damn, mama.” He shoved some food into his mouth.

  “Nigga, if I was your mama, you’d be way more attractive.”

  He laughed subtly while chewing, adding more food to his fork.

  “Why you do my moms like that, Jilly? But you right, you fine as fuck.”

  “I know.” I batted my eyelashes.

  Once Nehemiah swallowed his food, he leaned over to plant a kiss on my lips. We ate for a little while more, just enjoying my cooking.

  “What’s the plan for today?” he finally inquired.

  “I have to go see Nala so we can put together some outfits for her press tour she’s going to be on for two whole weeks. I’ve never made so many phone calls and sent so many emails to get the latest designs and outfits sent to me. Tony will be happy to know it was all free though, because of her status.”

  “Damn, ain’t that a fucking perk.”

  “I know. You get the same treatment; you just never want the stuff.”

  “Right.” He shoved more food into his mouth, swallowed, then sipped some juice. “That’s it?”

  “No. After her, I’m going to meet with that actor, Ahmad Drake. Can you believe he wants to hire me to be his personal stylist? That means I would be handling outfits for all of his events. Man, that check plus the checks I get for Make A Killing’s artists means I’m really about to be balling.” I giggled, but I noticed Nehemiah just looking me over as he took another gulp of his juice. “You okay?”

  “I thought I told you I didn’t want you working with that nigga.”

  “I… I thought you were joking, babe.”

  “Where in that conversation did it come off like I was joking, Jilly?” He frowned, sitting back again so I could see his exposed chest. That brown skin that lay over those pecks and abs was lickable, even in a moment like this.

  “Because why wouldn’t you want me working with him? So what he’s young and attractive. Do you honestly think I’m going to fuck him?”

  “Nah, you not gon’ fuck him. I know that shit for sure. What I don’t want is you spending time with him. If you his personal stylist, that means you gon’ be traveling and shit when he needs you.”

  “And?”

  “And you got a nigga, so it’s inappropriate for you to be vacationing and having alone time with another dude. What the fuck? Why do I have to explain this shit so elaborately?”

  “Calm down, first of all. Second of all, I would not be having alone time with him. I will be styling him and most likely in a room full of others.”

  “So today when you see Nala, it’s gon’ be other people there?” When I was silent, he added, “Exactly. You want me spending long hours working with other females?”

  “You have no need to. You’re a—”
<
br />   “That’s not what I asked you. It’s plenty of shit I could do within my job description that would require extended time periods spent with the client.”

  “Obviously I don’t, Nehemiah, but we’re different. You’re a man and have less self control than a woman.”

  “Fuck out of here.” He rose up since his plate and glass was empty. “Do not work with that nigga,” he warned before walking it to the sink.

  “Or what, nigga! You ain’t my fucking daddy!” I shot up, making the chair I was seated in fall back.

  Getting in my space, he replied, “Or I’m leaving you the fuck alone.”

  “Why! It’s a damn job! So I can’t do my job because you’re insecure!”

  “Insecure? How the fuck am I insecure? I’m basing this shit off of yo’ track record!”

  “What?”

  “You was married and met me while working. Next thing you know, I’m fucking you behind yo’ nigga’s back!” Silence. “Jilly—”

  “No, you know that was not and is not the same situation. I fucked with you because what I had at home was less than I deserved, and I thought you were different. But I see maybe you’re just like him; a stupid jealous asshole.” I turned to leave, but Nehemiah grabbed my wrist. He made me face him and took my hands into his.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. I love you, and hell yeah I’m gon’ get jealous. I know what we got is different from what you and Vernon shared, but still, just respect my wishes as yo’ man and don’t work with him.”

  “Nehemiah—”

  “And it has nothing to do with you and more to do with me being a nigga and knowing how we are. You’re a beautiful ass woman, smart, got an addictive personality, and a lot of sex appeal. It’s damn near impossible for a nigga not to want you after being around you for even an hour or two, let alone days at a time. I know if you work with his ass, he’s gon’ be into you, and I can’t fathom the thought of you traveling with a muthafucka that likes you.”

  I pondered for a few and began to understand his angle.

  “Okay. I will cancel the meeting and let him know I’m unable to take on the job at this time.”

  A huge grin spread across Nehemiah’s face, before he kissed then hugged me tightly. I wanted this job so badly for more reasons than one, but I didn’t want to make my man feel uncomfortable behind my selfishness.

  Nehemiah sat with me as I polished off my food, and then I went to grab my purse since I was already dressed, before leaving to Nala’s place.

  I got to her house in less than an hour, which was good for midday in Los Angeles. She lived in a beautiful, large home in Woodland Hills. I honestly enjoyed going to her house almost as much as my brother’s spot in Hollywood Hills. Camarih always had some good hot food ready, and I got to see my little chunky bad nephew, so their house had that edge over Nala’s.

  I passed her luxury cars sitting in the roundabout driveway and rang the fancy doorbell attached to the side of her double doors. While I waited, I reluctantly sent off that email to Ahmad.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Terranova.” Nala’s maid Karen answered the door for me.

  “Good afternoon. Is Nala ready for me?” I smiled.

  “Yes, come in.” Karen widened the door then closed it behind me. “May I offer you something to drink or snack on?”

  “Do you have iced tea? And maybe some Lays chips?”

  “Coming right up. Nala is in her dressing room waiting for you, per usual. Would you like me to escort you?”

  “No thank you, Karen.”

  “Okay. I will be in with your snack shortly.”

  I gave Karen a subtle smile and then pranced through this bomb ass mansion to Nala’s dressing room. The room was just a big ass one she’d decorated, filled with all the free clothes, shoes, purses, and jewelry she’d acquired.

  I heard her singing some song as I neared the door, which made me simper. Nala had a beautiful voice, and she could work with any type of song. If the track required soft vocals, she could do it, and if it needed some belting or church singing, she could do that too. My brother had an eye for talent, and because people knew that from looking at Nala, Eitan, and even Holli’s psycho ass, everyone wanted to be down.

  “Wow, I like that one!” I walked in.

  “Really? Thank you.” Nala got up from the vanity she was seated at.

  She wore a pearl colored robe and had her dark hair cut into a cute, blunt bob. Nala was beautiful, but it wasn’t enough to convince my brother. I didn’t blame him either; Camarih was a way bigger catch. She wasn’t only fine as hell, but she really loved my brother yet didn’t take any shit from him. And I just loved how opposite they were.

  “Yes, and you’re welcome.” I set this heavy shit down and pulled a free rack that I saw so I could start hanging stuff up for her to get a better look.

  “I hope your brother likes it too.”

  “I don’t even think he will care, honestly.”

  “What! Why!”

  I’d been occupied with pulling out the clothes and shoes, but her over the top reaction to my statement made me look over my shoulder at her.

  “I was joking. I just meant, because of how good you sound, I don’t think the lyrics or whatever beat Rahim makes will matter.”

  “Oh.” She giggled nervously, obviously realizing she was doing too much. How was this girl still into Tony?

  About twenty minutes later, I was done with my snack Karen delivered, and had everything spread out, so once Nala pointed to the things she liked best, we started to try it on.

  “Hold on. I am so sorry, girl. Let me get you out of this.” I began helping her out of the Vivienne Westwood dress she was in.

  Once she had it off, I double-checked the size. I could barely get this thing to fasten around her frame, and I was worried the wrong size had been sent. We didn’t have enough time for it to be replaced, and if she didn’t wear this six-thoousand-dollar dress in the public, I was sure they’d want to be paid for it. Furthermore, Tony would have my head.

  “Everything good?”

  “I umm, I got your size, but I guess this stuff runs small. Shit.” I felt like I was about to panic. I’d researched the brand thoroughly, so I didn’t know how this had happened. “Fuck! I have to try to call and see if I can get a bigger size before—”

  “It’s not your fault, Jilly.”

  “Then whose is it?” I dug through my Dior tote for my iPhone.

  “I’ve gained a few inches.”

  “You have? Why? I mean, not why, but more so, what the fuck?” I frowned, turning to face her.

  Somberly, she stepped down off the platform we always had her on when doing fittings. In her bra and underwear, she took a seat.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh my gosh, congrats!” I beamed, plopping down in between my tote bag and her. “Wait, why aren’t we happy?” This had better not been Tony’s baby. Camarih wouldn’t have a chance to kill Nala, because I would.

  “Because I’m in the height of my career, and I don’t need another baby. I already have my son who is still little.”

  “Do you want it though?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Okay, well explain.” I honestly wouldn’t have cared usually, but I wanted to be sure she hadn’t been fucking my brother.

  “Yes, I want it because it’s my baby and I’ve always wanted more kids. However, I don’t want it because… because it’s just not how I planned for a second child to happen.”

  “People get pregnant unexpectedly all the time, Nala, but—”

  “It’s not so much that it’s unexpected. It’s the fact that it’s not with the person I imagined it would end up being.”

  “It’s Pete’s, right?” I referred to her boyfriend.

  Nala and Pete had been dating for the past year and a half. They seemed to really be in tune with one another. He was a normal dude but very nice looking. He was dark skinned, had luminous short curly hair, gr
een eyes, and the build of a Greek god. He wasn’t as tall as my brother, not many people were, but he was a little over average height, I assumed, probably about five feet ten. He really catered to Nala, and it was nice seeing her happy with someone instead of moping about like Eeyore over my brother.

  “Yes, who else’s?” Nala’s brows dipped a little.

  “No one. So whose do you want it to be?” Nala looked at me knowingly, so I huffed. “Nala, come on. You cannot be serious. My brother hasn’t messed with you in fifty-leven years, and he’s married now. Stop stressing over something that will never happen.”

  It killed me how she wanted my brother, who treated her like shit, when she had a fine ass man who loved her dearly.

  “How do you know it will never happen? I mean, I know he loves Camarih, but that doesn’t mean he always will.”

  “And if he even tries to stop, she will kill him.” I took her hand. “Nala, he will always love Camarih. You don’t know them like I do. It’s more than them being physically attracted to one another and sharing a baby. They have something that will take more than a few arguments, financial issues, side hoes, and whatever else to break.”

  Nodding, Nala replied, “I understand. I can see that too.” Sighing, she got up. “Don’t change the dress. I will drop the pounds. I’m scheduled to get an abortion tomorrow.” She was now back on the platform.

  “You’re going to abort it because it’s not Tony’s? What does Pete think?”

  “He doesn’t know, and it doesn’t matter; it’s my body. Come on now, Jilly, I have to get back to work soon.”

  I said nothing and resumed styling her as best as I could like that conversation didn’t even happen.

  An hour and a half later, I was leaving, making a list of things that did fit and what didn’t, although she said it would, come time to wear it. I hoped she didn’t get an abortion for such a foolish reason, but then again, I needed her ass to be able to rock all that shit I’d ordered. I was a horrible person at times.

  As I stepped out into her big driveway, I saw Pete climbing out of his Yukon truck.

  “Sup, Jilly.” He nodded his head up.