by Noire
“I host parties at a lot of clubs and special events,” she lied with a smile. “But my father is in the oil business also so basically I do whatever I want.”
“Well, maybe you could show me around sometime,” Gutta said, making sure she saw his eyes roaming all over her body. “Or you could invite me to the next event you host. I mean, that would only be right since you turned down my gift, ya know?”
They laughed and made more small talk as Gutta counted out the cash for his watch and waited for the jeweler to package it up.
“Sure, I might be able to show you a few places,” the delicious-looking chick said with a grin. “And maybe I’ll let you buy me a drink one day since you like to pay for stuff.”
“It’s all good baby,” Gutta responded smoothly. “Let’s exchange digits and see what we can make happen. By the way what’s your name shawty?”
“My name is Pilar,” the sexy socialite with a daddy in the oil business told him. “Pilar Ducane.”
“Why you gotta go outta town?” I asked Suge with my lip poked out. He had just got his butt back in town a couple of days ago and now he was talking about rolling right back out. I looked out the window as we sped down the highway in his humongous silver monster truck. We had gone out to get some ribs and coleslaw and he was driving me back to the mansion.
I crossed my arms over my titties and frowned as I leaned away from him in my seat. “I’m getting real tired of you running all over the place without me, dude.”
He had the nerve to laugh. “C’mon now, sugar,” he reached out and ran his big old hand down my arm and tried to pull me back toward him. “You knew I was a working man when you met me.” He shrugged like it was a small thing. “It ain’t nothing major, sugar. I just got some work to put in.”
I heard what his mouth said but I wasn’t tryna believe that shit. For a lil minute now I had been picking up a real shady vibe from ol’Mister Suge and I didn’t like it. Ever since he had rolled up to the crib in his so-called “friend’s” whip and I pulled all them white-girl hairs outta the carpet, his ass had been numero uno on my suspect list. I mean, we’d be chilling at the mansion one minute and the next second his ass would be flying out the door, gone. Or we’d be out on the town laughing and eating, and then his cell phone would buzz and he would duck somewhere deep in the cut to answer that shit.
I had mad love in my heart for Suge and I knew he was feeling me for-real, for-real too. I hadn’t busted him in no outright lies and I couldn’t put my finger on nothing specific, and yeah, he still treated me like a queen and sexed me like a fiend, but a rat was stanking up a storm somewhere in Texas and my hood instincts were telling me to keep my guns aimed high.
You better NOT be tryna put no mack game down on me! I cut my eyes at him and stayed on my side of the monster whip. This fool must didn’t know! Suge was all gorilla and his game was gully from head to toe, but when it came to bustin’ slick backdoor moves this here shit was a mismatch! I was a LaRue, baby, and Mink Minaj had robbed, lied, and cheated on more niggas than a little bit! Hell, it was in my nature to creep and scheme, so I knew it was in a rich nigga’s nature too. I’d better not find out Suge was tryna roll over me. I would hate it for his ass. I really would!
I had already told Bunni about my suspicions and she just fronted me off and said I was paranoid.
“For real, Bunni. I got a funny feeling, girl. Something ain’t right with his ass. I told you about that white girl hair that was all up in the whip he was pushing. Whoever that trick is she was shedding like a damn sheep dog! For real, girl. That little voice in my head is tryna tell me something!”
“Quit it, Tasha Pierce!” she snapped. “Every dude in the world don’t cheat all the time like we do! I know a dick swinger when I see one and Uncle Suge ain’t one! Besides, if he was creepin’ my titty woulda been itchin’ by now. You just been sitting around this mansion too long getting fat and happy so now you making shit up. Look, I know this dude who got a banging new club in Georgia. Let’s take the jet and fly to the ATL and crash us a party. That’ll give your freaky butt something to do besides worry about where your play-play uncle is pointing his dick!”
I nodded. Partying in the ATL sounded real good to me.
“You think Dane wanna go?” I asked. “He can roll with us if he’s bringing the get-high.”
Bunni sucked her teeth. “Forget Dane! Don’t nobody need his dick-swinging ass,” she spit with her eyes flashing. She dug down in her bra and came out with a small bag of loud. “You just call the pilot and tell him to warm up the jet, mami. I got my own damn stash!”
Suge was a hardcore gambling man and he knew when the odds were stacked against him. This situation with Miyoko was coming to a deadly crossroad and if she caught him out there the right way he was either gonna come up snake-eyes or crap the fuck out. She knew how bad he needed to save his brother’s ass so she was yanking the little tiny hairs around his nuts trying to corner him in her box.
It was because of Viceroy that everybody in the family ate off lovely plates, and the risk Suge was about to take was necessary and unavoidable. If he played his hand right then the family would be cool. But if he got thrown off his game just a little bit . . . well, from the oldest to the youngest, everybody was gonna take a fall.
Shit had gotten real tight with Miyoko in New York and she’d almost trapped his ass and got her some. The girl was determined to ride his dick by any means necessary and quick thinking was the only thing that had saved him.
“Superior . . .” she had moaned, smelling like a whole magnum of champagne as she pressed up against him in the crowded hotel elevator after the Met Gala. They had been tossing back drinks with celebrities and politicians all night long and every chance she got her hands had been sneaking toward his dick.
“Wait till I get you upstairs! This is going to be so fucking good!” She cornered him in the elevator, panting wetly in his ear. Standing wide-legged in her red Versace gown, Miyoko reached for his nuts and squeezed them through his pants while shamelessly rubbing her hot crotch on his rock-hard thigh at the same time.
“Whoa-whoa-whoa now!” Suge had jumped back and grabbed her wrist, extracting his limp meat from her hand as he hunched his shoulder and dodged her flickering wet tongue. “C’mon, now.” He laughed and played her off for the crowd of riders. “Mess around and set off these smoke alarms and we’ll be stuck in this elevator all damn night.”
The chick was half-drunk and all hands as they walked down the hall toward the suite she had rented for them. “I’m gonna blow your nuts through the roof tonight,” Miyoko promised as she stumbled along beside him telling him all about the bomb head she was about to lay in his lap. “I’m gonna suck your toes, tickle your balls, lick your ass—”
Suge sped up, hurrying ahead of her as Miyoko’s sweet little lips spouted pornographic reminders of their youthful fuck fests and promised to do all the freaky shit she knew would turn him out. There had been a time when just hearing that shit rolling off her tongue would’ve been enough to set his rocks off, but his shit was nowhere near hard as he rounded the corner to the suite ahead of her and did the only thing he could do to make sure his dick stayed out of her mouth for the rest of the night. He turned the corner, yanked the fire alarm, and emptied the whole damn building out!
CHAPTER 21
Bunni had picked the wrong damn joint to party at. The Cotton Tail wasn’t nothing but a strip club for black dudes who liked white booty, and I wasn’t feeling it not one damn bit.
“Get in the groove!” Bunni urged me as she joined a bunch of skanky white scrippers with cotton balls taped to their asses as they bunny-hopped all over the stage.
That cut “Blurred Lines” was playing but there wasn’t a damn thing blurry about Bunni as she stuck out like the chocolate bastard child of the rabbit litter screaming, “I know you want it!” at every dude in sight.
I had smoked some good gas earlier and now I sat at the bar getting toasted up on some Ciroc an
d juice as I watched scenes from the Met Gala on the huge overhead television screen.
“Excuse me.” A light-skinned older dude with thick glasses touched me on my hand. “Good evening. Can I buy you a drink?”
I glanced down at his shiny Hublot and in a flash my ass reverted right back to my trick-’em-up days and Tasha Pierce was out in full force sniffing on the prowl. The first thing I did was case his ass from head to toe. In two seconds flat I could tell you if the leather on his shoes was imported or domestic, if that sweet lil sucka on his wrist was a Big Bang or a King Power 48 MM, if the platinum blue sapphire on his finger was official or a knock-off, and whether his cologne was Chinaman up the street slum, or if it was some delicious Black Afgano for three hundred grips an ounce.
I stared at the chain around his neck and my hood-o-meter registered that shit at certified white gold. The frames on his glass were thick as shit but them bad boys were definitely Moss Lipows.
The muthafuckin’ game was on! My titties broke out in a sweat and my mouth started watering. A tingly flush rushed over me and my scalp got real hot. But then I remembered. My days of tricking niggas off were over. I had given up the thrill of the dog hunt for the comfort of a velvet-covered porch. No matter what kinda yardage this mark had in his pockets, I probably had way more than that in minez.
“No thank you,” I said reluctantly, coming down off my lil high. I felt like a lint-picking crack head who had searched the whole damn floor for a phantom piece of dropped rock but had come up empty.
I ordered me some more hen-hen then sat back and watched all the celebrities coming and going on the red carpet. Some of them were looking good as shit, but others looked a hot funky mess out there! They needed somebody like me and Bunni to show them how to adorn themselves in finery and showcase their best assets.
I watched Kim Kardashian walk up looking like a damn space cadet in some ugly blue outfit. Everything she put on looked cheap and ratchet so I wasn’t surprised. A little while later I spotted Rihanna sporting this bad-ass white diamond-necked belly shirt with a matching mermaid skirt. The outfit was banging but I wasn’t feeling all the tats and the crimped hair. Janelle Monae looked real cute as usual, but that beaver stretched out on her head was fucking me up. Next I saw this tall Asian chick shaped like a damn banana as she stepped up in the hottest freakin’ Versace I had ever seen. It was red with tiny sequins and it had a split down the side, and the body-hugging waist swept royally from side to side. Her jet black hair was piled up on her head in a real sweet swoopie up-do, and she was smart enough to stop, strike a pose, smile left, center, and right, and then she waited while her escort walked into the frame and smiled for the camera too. He was a big, hunky nigga dressed in a slammin’ tuxedo. Fine as shit, bald and chocolate with a sexy-ass smile that—
“Oh, shit!” I screamed so loud that dude standing next to me jumped back and all the titty-shaking bunnies dancing on the stage froze in place.
“What’s wrong?” Bunni slid down off a pole and ran over to me barefoot with a twenty-dollar bill hanging outta her bra. “Mink wha—”
“That muthafucka!” I jabbed my finger at the television screen as my nigga Suge posted up and threw his big arm around the slinky Asian chick and grinned as the paparazzi snapped, snapped, snapped at least a million goddamn times. “That lying muthafucka!” I picked up my glass of vodka and flung that shit dead at his shiny bald head. “That l-l-l-l,” I stuttered with grief, “lying muthafucka!”
Suge had made his escape and chartered a private jet back to Texas. He landed in Dallas happy as fuck to be rid of Miyoko for a minute, but knowing that he still had an even bigger problem to take care of: Mink.
His cell phone had started vibrating before he could get off the red carpet, and if security hadn’t been so high at the Met she probably woulda busted up in that joint and turned shit out.
Suge grinned as he jogged up the stairs of his brother’s mansion. He liked Mink’s type of jealousy. The girl was like a skittish lil filly. She knew she had the legs to run a helluva race, but she was too young in the head to put her faith in the prize that was on the track.
“You busted nigga! I busted you!” She jumped on him as soon as he walked into her room. Ignoring that noise Suge pressed her up against the wall and gripped her thick delicious booty happily in his palms.
She shrugged him off. “You went your black ass to New York after you ran me some line about you had to work!” she blasted on him with her pretty eyes flashing with heat.
“I was working,” he said simply as he pulled her closer and inhaled her sweet scent.
“Uh-uh!” she bitched, pushing him away again. “Ain’t nobody stupid! I saw your gaming ass walking down the red carpet in your fly tuxedo with your arm around some stringy-haired chopstick! Who was that bitch?”
“I can’t tell you,” Suge said, grinding against her plump softness, his dick wide awake and nice and hard.
“You can’t tell me? Are you serious? You over here tryna get you some drawers but you can’t tell me what you was doing all up on TV with some other chick?”
Suge shrugged as he buried his lips in her neck and kept right on feeling her up. “There’s a lot of shit that I ain’t never gonna tell you, Mink. That’s me. But what I will tell you is that I missed you. I ain’t playing no games and I ain’t running you no lines. But I need you to trust me, baby girl. Can you handle that? Are you woman enough to say fuck what that TV told you and really, really trust a man?”
Mink was getting heated too now and she moaned a little as her tongue darted out and she licked his bottom lip.
“But I seen y’all together, Suge! The whole world seen y’all and you was all hugged up on her like . . . shit, what was I supposed to think?”
“You wasn’t supposed to think nothing. You was supposed to believe. I gave you my word that couldn’t no other woman get nothing that I have for you. And I meant it. You gotta decide where you gonna put your money at, Mink. Who you going for, baby girl? The jockey or the horse?”
“The horse,” she said grinning.
“That’s right, baby girl. The horse.” Suge kissed her on the neck then tapped her twice on the ass as he pulled her shirt over her head and raised her thin cotton skirt in the air. He knew she had the right answer in her. His baby was the best damn horse in the stable, he thought as he got down on his knees so he could get a taste of what his mouth had been watering for. He pulled the crotch of her panties aside and got ready to go to town. Mink was a fine-ass pony, Suge thought as he dove right in with his tongue and lips. He’d put his last dollar on her rump any day.
CHAPTER 22
It was almost noon on a beautiful Saturday when GiGi Molinex drove up to the gates of the Dominion mansion and pressed the intercom button to be admitted. It was the second time she had come to con Bunni and her sidekick Mink out of information that might be useful to Larry and Stewie, and while she was sick of talking in circles, she had gotten a few decent nibbles off the foul-mouthed ghetto bunnies, and she was planning to lean on them real heavy today so she could gobble up a whole meal.
She had played a neat little head game with Bunni, scaring the shit out of her by cancelling their appointment, only to agree to give her one more chance when the poor girl called back begging.
It was a clever little psychological ploy designed to make Bunni feel ever so grateful, and now GiGi’s mind whirred like a computer as she waited to be buzzed in the gates. She had yet to meet Viceroy or any of his sons, and she promised herself she wasn’t leaving that house today until she laid eyes on them. She peeped down at her bulging cleavage and giggled. And until they laid eyes on her too!
The small speaker near the gate crackled and a deep, monotone voice said over the intercom, “This is the Dominion residence. How may I help you?”
“GiGi Molinex!” she sang out with a charming southern accent. “I’m a cable television producer and I’m here to meet with Bunni Baines.”
Moments later the tall
, majestic gates swung open and GiGi drove her bogus production van onto the grounds of the estate. When she pulled up outside of the front entrance a handsome valet in a red and black uniform greeted her with a smile and opened her door so she could exit.
“No, no, no,” she told him as she reached out and closed the van’s door firmly. “Just tell me where to put it and I’ll park it myself.” A look of surprise crossed the young man’s face and GiGi flashed him a bright smile. “Sorry. Company policy. Our insurance policy is just restrictive like that.”
She parked a few feet away from a sexy red Maserati and a shiny black Bentley. Both cars looked to be brand new, and there wasn’t a speck of dust on either of them. GiGi climbed out of her van and tugged down the hem of her slinky thigh-high designer dress. She’d worn a thong to eliminate any panty lines, and the fabric of the crimson red dress felt soft and slippery on her bare ass-cheeks. Her flaming hair hung in thick ringlet curls and she let her curvy hips sway loose and free as she sauntered up to the front door with a look of excitement in her devilish green eyes.
The valet smiled and rang the doorbell for her. The door was opened by a slim white man with dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses.
“Hi there!” She held out her hand and smiled brightly as she struck a pose. She was tanned and toned and her dress was nearly the same color as her hair. It had a plunging neckline and a high-riding belt, and she knew the contrast between her tiny waist and her sexy hips made her look quite stunning. “I’m GiGi Molinex. I have an appointment today with Bunni Baines.”
The man was professionally dressed and seemed to be an official of the household, but still, he couldn’t help but check GiGi out and flash her a beaming look of approval. “Please, come in, Miss Molinex,” he said, extending his arm for her to take. “Right this way.”