Pitbulls In a Skirt 5
Page 4
I closed my mouth, as my mind tried to find the right words to say. In all of the time I snorted I never assumed that anyone knew or that anyone would call me on it outside of Kenyetta and she’s not here anymore. “Mercedes, stop making up shit.”
“They use to call you and Kenyetta the Powder Puff Girls.” She shook her head. “Bet you didn’t think I knew that.”
That was true.
When Kenyetta and me use to do our thing some people did find out and that’s the name they gave us. It didn’t bother me as much as it did Kenyetta. I guess Mercedes knew after all. Still, it didn’t mean I would admit to it either.
“And you wonder why I don’t want you around Ryan alone,” she continued. “Look at the expression on your face. Of course I know about your little habit. You’re a gross ass drug addict. You barely have skin on your bones.”
“Mercedes, first of all you come into my room, without knocking and then ask me am I using drugs.” I paused. “I been in the gym which is why I’m thin. And you see my face like this because I’m fucked up in the head by your accusation. You know what…just get out because he’s sleeping and I’m not about to—”
“You haven’t answered the question. Are you still on coke or not?”
“I just said I’m not gonna answer some dumb shit like that.”
“I never told you this but I’m gonna tell you now, I blame you for Kenyetta dying.” She glared. “Had you not got her so coked out, Black Water’s Klan would’ve never got to—”
Suddenly I had an urge to see my handprint etch across the side of her face in raspberry color. So I slapped her and just like that we were back at it again.
YVETTE
My fingertips pressed into the tissue of Heavy’s chest as I slid my hips back and forth over his dick. Outside of being naked when I’m by myself, in front of Heavy was the only other place I felt comfortable. Although I’m not necessarily a fat girl these days, I’m thicker than my sisters, Mercedes and Carissa, which always made me self-conscious about my body.
But Heavy never saw me as the other one next to Carissa or Mercedes, he saw me as a sexy woman and even chose me over them when he first met us the day we took over Marjorie Gardens.
Still, I know some people don’t want us to be together, mainly my friends. Some might think he wanted me for my money but that wasn’t the case and it’s my business if he did.
I never reached into my purse when we went on a date. He never hit me for a loan to pay this bill or that one. He took me out and treated me like a woman and for that I will never let him go.
Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s best to be with a man who’s income mirror’s your own but where was I gonna find a nigga with millions? Impossible in DC unless they were in the game and I was not interested if they were.
So I reached for a nigga who cared about me and I think I made the best decision with Heavy.
“Damn, this pussy tight,” he said biting the corner of his lip. “You see what you do to me?” He pushed into me again and together we created a sexual rhythm. “My dick hard as iron.”
I grinned and continued to work my fuck magic when suddenly I heard Mercedes and Carissa yelling in the other room. If I wasn’t preoccupied I would’ve gotten out of the bed and got them together but I’m getting tired of the constant bickering and I need a break.
That’s where Heavy came in and it’s the reason I called him to stay with me during the snowstorm.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ‘Vette,” He said gripping my waist harder. “Don’t get off this dick to see about them. They good.”
He was right and I felt my pussy heating up and pulsating when I focused on the way he looked at me. There was no way I was about to argue with them when I was on the verge of cumming so I pushed into him more. For a second he clasped my waist so strong I thought it would break and I didn’t care if it did, just as long as he stayed inside of me.
“Vetteeeeee, fuck….”
“Heavy, hit this pussy, baby.” I bore down harder into his chest with my fingertips and squeezed my inner walls to massage his thickness. “I want you to cum all in this pussy.”
“You want this shit, bae?”
“Want all this dick,” I said as I whined longer and harder.
“Oh yeah, bitch?” He slapped my ass. “That’s how you feel?”
“I love it when you call me that shit. Now take this pussy, Thick.”
His eyes widened when I said Thick’s name but he didn’t move right away.
Fuck!
What is wrong with me?
So STUPID!
Please let him not have heard me.
Instead of responding we continued to press and grind into each other until we both reached ecstasy. When I was done my face pressed into his damp chest as my breathing settled down. I noticed I didn’t hear them fighting anymore but heard other voices.
The ones going on in my head.
That made me feel guilty for calling him another man’s name.
“Who is Thick?” He asked.
“Nobody,” I lied. I rolled off of him and lay on my side. “I was just feeling the moment that’s all.”
He frowned. “Yvette, if you made a mistake let’s talk about it. But please don’t act like you didn’t call me by another nigga’s name.”
I blinked a few times. “You hear that shit? In the living room?”
“So you really gonna change the subject like that?”
“I’m serious.” I paused. “I hear other voices out there.”
He sighed. “’Vette, you know 88 and Fresh in the living room.” He yawned. “Maybe that’s who you hear. They be alright though. You fed them niggas before we eased off. What more they want? Plus you not their bitch. Besides, I want you to answer my question. Who is Thick?”
I listened harder. “No, I’m serious.” Needing an escape to avoid his question, but really hearing voices, I eased up and slipped in my jeans, bra and grey t-shirt on my dresser. “I gotta see what’s up. I’ll be back in a second and we can talk about all that then.”
I opened the door and closed it behind me before he could respond. With my arms crossed over my chest I was surprised to see two black chicks and a white girl in our apartment next to the front door. Mercedes, Carissa, 88 and Fresh surrounded them, preventing them from going further.
What was going on?
The night was getting stranger by the minute.
I broke the semi-circle and walked closer to the girls. One was white and chubby with French braids running down her back, the other had two Afro puffs and the third was really pretty with straight fire red hair. She was also wearing red scrubs and a badge that read Janelle Monroe RN. They looked like some strange singing group at first glance.
“They’ve been frisked already,” Fresh said. “No weapons.”
“Who are you?” I asked the girls. “And what you doing in my apartment?”
“Exactly,” Carissa interjected. “I told Mercedes not to let them in, ‘Vette, despite the so called information they claim to have for us. And what does she do?” She looked at Mercedes and rolled her eyes. “Let them in anyway. Stupid shit.”
“If we causing problems we can just go,” The white girl said. “It ain’t that deep and I’m hungry anyway.”
“Hold fast,” Mercedes told her before focusing on Carissa. “First off I’m a grown ass woman and second—”
“Mercedes, please,” I said cutting her off from arguing with Carissa. “Not now.”
She took a deep breath and so did I.
Focusing on the girls I said, “My friend said you had some information. So what you got to say?” Fresh and 88 moved closer, touching their weapons just in case. “Whatever it is make it quick. Your lives are in danger.”
The one with the scrubs stepped out of the pack. “My name’s Janelle but my friends call me Rocky, this is Kisha”—she pointed at the white girl— “and this is Dukes. We—”
“Maybe you don’t understand what make it qu
ick means,” I said. “Save the fucking side talk for your friends and get to the point. You in the danger zone right now.”
Rocky cleared her throat and for some reason looked at Mercedes and back at me. “My bad. We came over to tell you that we saw some chicks walk into the Trap and we—”
Angry that this bitch assumed she knew me I stepped closer to her face, cutting her off. Whoever this whore was she didn’t know shit about my business or where I kept my trap houses. And for her disrespect she suddenly had three guns aimed at her hair, each man preparing to make that scalp redder. “I think you over stepped a little, Reds. Might want to turn around and get the fuck out while you still can.”
With hands raised, white palms in my direction, she took a deep breath. “Sorry, Yvette. I’m not coming to start trouble. I just got word that the Trap was on the same hallway where we live. I knew you wouldn’t want anybody outside of Kliyo and Quinton there so I figured I’d let you know.”
Something was off with our management.
Why do folks know where the Trap be?
At first I thought she was some young dumb bitch trying to gain favor but the names she called were correct. Kliyo and Quinton were in the Trap and I specifically told them not to have anybody in that apartment.
“I can’t believe we listening to this shit,” Carissa said shaking her head. “I think you should put these bitches out of our crib or out of their miseries, your choice. Whatever happens don’t say I didn’t warn you.” In kid mode, as usual when she didn’t get her way, she stormed off, slamming her bedroom door behind herself.
Ryan started crying again in her room.
I sighed and focused back on Rocky. “If you lying to me, you get one call to the one you love most. Then you’re done in this lifetime.” I pointed at her.
I saw the lump crawl down her throat as she swallowed. “Yvette, ya’ll been looking out for Marjorie since you been here. Between the community functions, the daycare center and the stuff ya’ll do for the kids, all I got is respect for all of you. And I wouldn’t play like this. If it’s okay that them girls are in the Trap I’ll leave right now and you won’t ever see me again. It’s just that I heard you ran a strict shop.” She paused. “Before you took it over there was a lot of grimy stuff going on in Marjorie and a lot of crime when niggas attempted to take over. I’m just giving you information you might find useful. But like I said, we can leave if—”
“You not going nowhere,” I said pointing at her. Lowering my finger I said, “Before we check it out do you know these chick’s names?”
Rocky shook her head from left to right. “Nope…couldn’t see their faces. But one was wearing a red dress and the other a tiger striped one. Oh…they both looked like whores too.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
HEAVY
“I need you to correct this situation ASAP!”
Heavy was wiping his dick with his moist t-shirt when he heard that two females wearing a red dress and a tiger striped dress managed to get into the trap house.
Fucking Grace! He thought to himself. What are you doing?
His teeth grinded together when he considered all of the things he was going to do to her. Although he knew his baby’s mother could be a world class freak when she was with him, even he had to admit that the odds of her being in one of Yvette’s traps was too hard to believe.
Still he needed proof.
He rushed to his cell phone, made a call and sat bear ass on the edge of the bed. The phone rung once before he went in. “Please tell me you not that fucking stupid, Grace.” He whispered in a hush tone.
“What are you talking about?” She said sinisterly. “And why you calling me all of a sudden? I thought we were done. Isn’t that what you said to me a little while ago? Huh?”
“Grace, are you some place you don’t have no business being?” He looked at the door.
“Wow, word travels fast. I was gonna call you myself. Besides, I tried to talk to you, Heavy. Remember? I begged you not to leave me and you did anyway.”
He stood up. “So this is what you do? Work your way into Yvette’s spot, while trying to get yourself killed at the same time? Come on, Grace, this going too far. You’re moving to territories you aren’t versed on.”
“I’m trying to figure out who you call to talk about. Yvette or me?”
He took a deep breath. “If I come over there and see your face I’m gonna pull you out by your—”
“You can stop this now, Heavy. I told you that in your apartment. All you have to do is come back to me.”
“Bitch, are you crazy!” He yelled. He took a deep breath when he realized he was being too loud. “You can’t blackmail a nigga into being with you by committing suicide. Now what you gonna do is get the fuck out of there or I’ma—“
Click.
When he saw she hung up he decided to put on his jeans and make another call. Luckily the person he was reaching answered. The only problem was that it was too loud in the background to hear him at first. “Yo, I’m sick of your fucking cousin, man,” Heavy said laying into him. “She gone too far this time and I need you to go see about her for me. Quick.”
Wilson laughed. “Wait…I thought she wasn’t your problem no more. At Grams last week she said you dumped her. Anyway, fuck she do this time?” He chuckled harder. “My cousin always in some dirt. Getting your pressure high and shit.”
“It ain’t funny, nigga,” He whispered harshly into his cell. His lips were pressed against the handset so close it was almost difficult to hear his vicious words. But he was trying to avoid Yvette from picking up on what he was saying from the living room. “This bitch is about to ruin everything I got going on here and I need that to stop. Now.”
Wilson directed his attention to the people inside his apartment. “Hey, turn that music down for a sec.” When the background grew quiet he focused back on the call. “This sound serious, Heavy.”
“It is, man. I’m not sure what she trying to do but she fucking with ‘Vette and them now. All because she can’t get a nigga back.”
“Wait…she going at the bosses directly?”
“Yeah, man. And since I’m fucking with ‘Vette whatever she got going on will mess everything up on my end. I need you to correct this situation ASAP. Are you even in Marjorie?”
“Uh…yeah…in the building one over but I can make it. It’ll be hard cause the snow high as shit and still coming down. It’s gonna cost you too.”
Heavy took a deep breath. “If you take care of this I got you. Money ain’t a problem. My bitch rich. I’ll get the cash.”
“Then consider your problem solved. I’ll hit you later with more details.”
Heavy sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. One part of him knew it was a mistake to get Wilson involved. He’d been around him long enough to know that he had a tendency of making things worse.
For now, he’d have to wait.
WILSON
Covered with thick winter coats the men stood in the living room.
“So what exactly are we doing again?” Corey asked as he along with Wilson and Spotter loaded their guns. “One minute we smoking weed and the next we going to the trap to get your cousin and some other bitch. I was hoping to kick back and—”
“Well we not kicking back,” Wilson said cutting him off. “All we doing is going over there to find out what she’s up to. Plus I just got into the mix with ‘Vette and them. They finally put me on payroll with a package last week. If whatever Grace doing gets out of hand how I know the family will be safe? The last thing I need is Grace fucking up my shit too.”
“Good, because at first I thought this was about you doing a favor for your cousin’s ex-nigga,” Corey said with an attitude. “I was gonna ask why you making this our problem.”
Wilson shook his head. “Even if I did don’t act like you weren’t gonna go anyway. We both know what’s in it for you.” He paused. “Like I said we just checking things out at first.”
“So w
hy we tooling up again?” Spotter asked raising his gun. “Seems like a lot of artillery for a question session.”
“Because we crashing a party,” Wilson said. “While I don’t have a problem smacking the shit out of cuzo and her friend, I may have to lay down one of them niggas if they feeling some kind of way about it. It’s better to be safe than dead.”
“So what you think going on for real in the Trap?” Corey asked. “Because me and Grace set up many niggas in our day and made a lot of money. If she’s involved it’s gotta be payday related right?” He tucked his .45 in the back of his jeans. “Because I won’t be opposed to making a few bucks if we can help ourselves.”
“I don’t know what Grace is into,” Wilson shrugged. “She got mad when I wouldn’t let her hold five hundred for rent the other day and I haven’t spoken to her since. Don’t think she’ll want to see me tonight either. But that’s her problem not mine.”
They all laughed and walked out the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
GRACE
“It’s been a lot of fun too. And will continue to be fun if you go with the flow.”
After round three of the Sex Fest, Grace sat on top of Quinton’s dick on the floor, while Kliyo, finished with the fuck games, rested his head in Rambler’s naked lap. Rambler fucked him so hard an hour ago that unlike his man he couldn’t handle another bout.
Looking up at her, Quinton squeezed two handfuls of Grace’s breasts and grinned. “I feel weak. You’re wearing me out and we gotta pace ourselves. It’s only day one. We need to last for the next two days.” He slapped her ass. “What I do to deserve this visit?”
She wiggled her hips on his limp penis and grinned. “Does it matter what you did? We just had sex three times in a row. You should be kissing my feet.”
“You fine, ma, got a face fit for a magazine. But I don’t do feet. I don’t care how wet and tight the pussy is.”