by Amour
Chelsea and Beautyful came in about two hours later, talking loudly. They both had a margarita in a big glass in their hand.
“Have you heard from Jeremy?” Beautyful asked. Her glass was almost empty, so she poured some of Chelsea’s drink into it.
“Not since I left him this morning,” was my response. I didn’t know why I lied. I guess it felt like the truth would just backfire on me.
“Where the hell did you go bright and early this morning?” Chelsea laughed. She was suspecting that I had ended up with another nigga.
“I was with him, but he wasn’t there when I woke up.” I made up a time. “I woke up around nine this morning.” I looked at my bag and then back at them. “Why you ask?”
Chelsea started to tell me that the housekeeper had found him dead in his room. The police didn’t know who did it or when, but they were investigating. I just sat there like I was in shock and it was my first time hearing about it. All I could see was his dead body covered in blood.
We all decided that we should get out and find us something to wear to the club. Platinum recording artist Face was going to be present. I thought to myself, If he is any finer in person than he is on TV, then I am in trouble. I tried to shake the whole Jeremy/Crystal thing out of my mind as we headed out to stroll the streets of Miami.
Chelsea said that she had talked to the owner of KOD, and the theme was “Thongs and Teddies.” We ended up going to Victoria’s Secret to look for the sets that were best for each of us. A black-and-red teddy with the matching thong caught my eye.
Chelsea came walking my way. She got up close and whispered in my ear. “You seem like you got something on your mind.”
I faked a smile. “I’m cool,” I sighed. Then tears fell from my eyes. I felt horrible. I told her that I just wanted to be left alone. She acted as if she understood me, and then she went on her way.
My mind was racing at full speed, and I had a gut feeling that I would be the one blamed for Jeremy’s death. I kept feeling like something or somebody was trying to set me up.
Once we all found what we would wear that night, we headed back to our hotel to pack up. I went to the bathroom with my overnight bag under my arm. Something kept telling me that those two girls had been going through my bag during the course of our trip, and I wasn’t having that. After I showered, I dug in my bag for my favorite body spray, and my hand stumbled across something. I slowly pulled out the object, then dropped it on the floor and screamed at the top of my lungs. Someone tried to open the bathroom door. I realized I had locked it.
“You okay?” Beautyful asked, still jiggling the doorknob.
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just saw a spider.”
I grabbed a towel and picked up Jeremy’s dick. Somebody had cut it off and put it in my bag. I thought about flushing it down the toilet, but I knew it would probably clog the damn thing up. I wrapped it up in the towel, and all I could think of was putting it back in my bag and getting rid of the bag altogether. I sat on the toilet and cried. Someone was really trying to send me to jail, but who and why?
When I walked out of the bathroom, they were both waiting for me, staring at me. I had a feeling they had been talking about me, and I hated being judged. Mostly, I hated being the topic of a discussion that I wasn’t a part of.
Just then there were a few loud knocks on the door. We all looked at each other to see who was going to answer it. None of us were expecting company. I sat down on the bed, pretty much letting the two of them know that I definitely wasn’t going to be the one to answer the door.
Beautyful decided to be the bigger person and answer it. She looked out the peephole and looked back at Chelsea. “It’s your brother.”
My heart hit the floor. All of my bones started to shake. I knew I was a dead woman. I was supposed to be visiting Chelsea’s granny with Chelsea. Cliff hadn’t called to check up on me, I had concluded that he was convinced that I was too afraid to disobey him.
Chelsea looked at me with pity all over her face. She got up and slowly walked to the door. She opened it, and her whole mood shifted.
“Trist, what are you doing here?” she asked.
You could tell she was smiling by the way she sounded. My heart lifted, and I started breathing again. Trist walked in, with his dreads hanging to his shoulders, wearing his basketball shorts with a wife beater, showing off that body. He smiled at me as he walked past and sat down on the other bed. No longer did I want to go to the club. If I suddenly backed out, I knew the girls would know it was because of him. Even though Chelsea had told me that she didn’t care what I decided to do, I doubted that fucking her other brother was one of those things.
“Y’all ready?” Chelsea asked. She started grabbing her stuff and heading to the door.
“Where y’all going?” Trist asked her.
She told him we were headed out to work.
He raised his brow. “You working too?” he asked me.
Chelsea answered yeah for me, causing him to instantly get upset. He told her she shouldn’t turn out everybody that she crossed paths with. She told him to mind his own business and that I was grown and could make my own decisions.
They argued about me like I wasn’t even present. I sat back and watched the show. I really wanted to stay with Trist, but then again, I wanted to see Face. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Trist wasn’t worth it.
Chelsea told me to stay and said that if I wanted to come to the club later, to catch a cab. I was fine with that because I needed some dick to get my stress level down. After I put Trist to bed, I would head to the club to make a few dollars.
As soon as they were out of sight, Trist came over to my bed and began kissing me on my neck.
“What made you come here?” I asked him, pulling his beater off.
“You,” he responded. He slid my shorts off and saw that I didn’t have on any panties. He looked at me, and I smiled. He dived face-first into my pussy.
I lay back and enjoyed him. Despite my enjoyment, Jeremy kept popping up in my head. Even Crystal’s innocent face popped up. Tears rolled down my face.
Trist came up from down below. “Why you crying?” He wiped my tears and started putting his shirt back on.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You crying and shit,” he said, as if I should have known why he stopped.
“No.” I grabbed his arm. “I don’t half step.”
He looked at me to see if I was sure. Without a doubt, I was. He took his shirt back off and picked up where we had left off. He pulled his dick out and slid it in. I moaned. It felt too good. It was almost as if it belonged there. I was so wrapped up in fucking him. I was a lazy lover when it came to Trist. He slowly stroked and talked to me the entire time.
“How that feel?” he would whisper, nibbling on my ear.
“Good,” I would moan.
Then he was twirling his dick inside of me. I loved it when he did that. The more we fucked, the more I fell in love with his dick. He looked me in the eyes while holding my legs all the way back, and I saw my first love.
It was Mike, but it was the lovable, young, fourteen-year-old Mike.
We were at Tiffany’s, having the time of our lives. Everything about us was innocent. He started kissing me on my neck and then sucking on it. After he was done with that, he blew on it and made my body tingle. I was running my hands through his braids, and he was fucking me how I liked it. I couldn’t believe I was fucking him, knowing my mother was only across the street. He had popped up over here, and I knew he hadn’t come just to see me. We both knew what we wanted. Tiffany and Nicole had walked to the store and had left the two of us alone.
“I’m about to cum,” he whispered.
“Okay,” I said. I felt him getting weak as he pressed his body up against mine. Then he went limp on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him. “I love you, Mike.”
He lifted his head up and gave me the deadliest look. I was confused. Where di
d Mike go? Tristan got up off of me with his eyes still on me.
“What you just say?” he asked. His voice let me know that he dared me to say it again.
I sat silent for a second. “What do you mean? I didn’t say anything,” I said, making him feel like he was the crazy one. I knew for sure that I had just fucked Mike. I didn’t know where he had gone or when he had left, but I was certain I had. I’d felt him, I’d talked to him, and I’d held him.
Tristan didn’t say anything. He went to the bathroom and closed the door. I got up and searched the room to see if Mike had left anything. He was good about leaving a shirt or a hat behind. It had been years since Mike and I had had anything, and here I was, back open.
After looking high and low, I realized he had played me for a fool again. I was disgusted, and I prayed I wouldn’t cross paths with him, because I would probably spit in his face. I sat on the bed and cried. He had done what he was best at. Fucking me and leaving me.
Trist came out of the bathroom a few moments later. By then I had finished crying. I had dried the tears on my face, but my eyes were bloodshot. I had my head down, and he sat right next to me.
He put his hand on my back. “You know I came in you, right?”
I shook my head yeah. I really didn’t give a fuck if he did or didn’t. I was too hurt to care. He lifted up my face and saw that I was crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” I told him.
I went to the bathroom to freshen up. Afterward, I grabbed my bag and bolted out the door. I heard Trist asking me where I was going, but I ignored him and continued to run. I was headed to meet Miami’s heat and to get paid at KOD. A lot of lame-ass niggas hooted and hollered at me on my way out of the hotel. My mind wasn’t on them. I went outside and flagged down a cab. When I finally got one to stop, I instructed him to take me to King of Diamonds.
The cab pulled up to the club, and I hopped out. On my way to the employee dressing room, I saw King. He stopped me.
“I thought you backed out,” he said. He was wearing an expensive off-white suit. With all the money floating around in this club, I was sure he had money to blow, so why not wear it?
“Naw. Family business,” I responded.
He got into asking me if I wanted to dance onstage or just do lap dances for the night, and I assured him that I wasn’t a half stepper.
“Put me on the stage,” I said.
He cracked a smile, letting me know he felt my drive, and then we went our separate ways.
When I entered the dressing room, I saw the hate-filled eyes and all the jealous smirks. I ignored them and continued on my way. I went to the back of the dressing room to get dressed. When I was done, I got up and went to join the party.
I had on a crotchless black leather thong with a matching bra. My black and diamond stilettos clicked against the tile floor as I walked down the long hall to reach the party. It was like everything was in slow motion. Why had I considered stripping? I had been a boring person throughout my life. Now I looked different, dressed different, and was acting different. Who was I?
Before I could answer my own question, I was already at the party. The club was packed, and there were niggas in every direction. There was nothing but money, niggas, and hoes, and since I was there, I had to pick a category. I saw a table with three guys. There was no one there entertaining them, so I decided to make my way over to them.
When I reached their table, I started grinding my hips on the one who looked like he had the most money. He was dark skinned and looked a lot older. . . . Maybe he was a little too old to be rocking gold jewelry. He had on dark shades, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but it wasn’t like I needed to see them in order to see his money. I moved my head from side to side to the music and let my body go with the flow.
He never touched me. I did notice that he had to keep stopping himself from doing so. The more I ground on his dick, the hornier I got. He and his boys had a pile of money on the table for me. I decided since they were all paying, why not entertain the other two?
I got off of Mr. Gold and headed to his friend who was to the left of him. He was fine. I saw Chelsea across the room, shaking her ass in front of some nigga. I couldn’t tell who. I was hoping it wasn’t Face. My bangs were in my eyes. I moved them behind my ear and realized exactly who he was. He was Omar.
I was hurt. I grabbed my money and quickly walked away.
Gold got up and followed me. I could feel him on my heels. What the hell did he want? I thought. It was nothing to get another girl to dance. He grabbed my arm and turned me around. I could tell he was looking deep into my eyes behind those glasses.
“You look familiar,” he said.
I stood there, silent. I was hoping he didn’t mean I looked like the criminal who was on the news in Chicago. He had a grill in his mouth, and it gleamed from the lights. He was wearing True Religion blue jeans and a tee. He had on some gator shoes and every piece of jewelry you could wear. As I stared at his face, I read the side of his shades. Those were Gucci frames covering his eyes.
“Why you leave?” he asked after realizing I had no explanation.
“I had to,” I said. I was surprised that the music wasn’t playing as loudly where we were. He grabbed my face. “Angel?”
I moved my head to get him to let me go. I walked away. He stood where I had left him, and hollered my name. I didn’t know who this man was or how he knew me. I was running away from being Angel, and here this man was bringing her right back to me.
I went into the dressing room. I had totally panicked. Although I wanted to go snatch Omar from under Chelsea’s ass, I couldn’t attract attention. I sat down on one of the wooden benches in the dressing room and put my head down. I needed to leave Miami. It was too risky for someone to know who I was. I couldn’t have that. I got up and began grabbing my things and stuffing them in my bag.
King walked in. “Pleasure,” he called.
I turned around to face him.
“Where you going?” he asked with his hands up.
I just shook my head. I had a knot in my throat and wouldn’t be able to say a word without crying.
He began telling me that my girls were out there and Face was asking to see the Triple Threat. I didn’t want to mess up what they had planned, so I put my bag down and headed back out. I saw King do some hand gesture to the DJ.
“Here’s the other member of Triple Threat. Pleasure! You niggas won’t be disappointed, so get up and make it rain on Beautyful, Luxury, and Pleasure!” the DJ yelled into the mic.
We all got on the stage, and I must have forgotten that Omar was present. However, I was reminded when I saw him front and center in the crowd. I instantly grew nervous.
I already knew that my surgery hadn’t provided the best disguise, being that a man I didn’t even know knew exactly who I was. The beat dropped, and so did our clothes. All the guys were getting closer to the stage. Some wanted to see us up close, while others just wanted to sneak touches. I was numb.
I saw Omar throwing all types of cash at Chelsea, who was at the other end of the stage. I looked over in disgust. I climbed the pole and did a trick on my way down. I wanted his attention, but Chelsea had it all.
After my attempt to get Omar’s attention, I noticed two guys, who I assumed were detectives, come through the doors. They both were black and tall. One looked younger than the other. My heart sank. My first thought was to jump from the stage and go to the dressing room. I was stuck. As I rolled my hips, I watched the detectives through my peripheral vision.
They were talking to King, and then he started pointing at me. The detectives made their way over to the stage and gestured for me to go over to them. I walked over to them slowly and knelt down.
“Someone is looking for you,” the older one said directly in my ear.
“Now?” I asked.
He shook his head yeah.
I climbed from the stage and followed him. “Can I at least put
my clothes on?” I yelled.
He shook his head no as we walked outside. There was a Hummer limo sitting there, and I had a weird feeling it was Cliff. Damn, I was dead. I tried to come up with every excuse in the book as to why I needed to go back in. They weren’t hearing it.
The younger one opened the limo door, and I slowly climbed inside. He slammed the door behind me, and to my surprise, there sat Face. He was looking like a million bucks. His diamonds were sparkling from the dim lights in the ceiling. He had a bottle of Hennessy in his left hand and his iPhone in the other. His smooth caramel skin glistened. The many tattoos that covered his arms and hands complemented his swag.
I was in awe.
“Thought you was going to jail, huh?” He chuckled.
I nodded my head as I made my way to the back of the limo, where he was sitting. He smiled as he watched me crawl seductively over the seats to reach him.
“Yeah, I been watching you like a hawk, and you got what I want,” he said as he licked his lips. He took a drink from his bottle.
“You got what I want, too,” I responded, referring to his money.
He laughed and then grabbed me softly. I stood up and began giving him a lap dance. It was evident to me he wanted a dance. It was also evident that he wanted to fuck. I was positive he knew I wanted money. We would satisfy each other.
When did he see me? I wondered, because I hadn’t seen him inside the club. He got up, put his bottle on the counter, and locked the limo doors. Then he sat by the door.
“Come walk down here like a model,” he demanded. He was having fun.
I smiled and began strutting my stuff. The whole way to him, I wondered how big his dick was, or if it was even big at all. When I made it to him, he grabbed a handful of my ass.
“Now fuck me without fucking me.” He smacked my ass, and I seductively turned around and did what I thought was fucking him without actually fucking him. I started grinding my ass on his dick, and then I began popping on it. I had no music. In my head, I was listening to Trey Songz’s “On Top.”