by B. Love
The third woman laughed as Christian’s anger began to rise. She knew something was up with them, but Tyrell always told her she was creating a problem where there wasn’t one.
“Whatever, hoe. When we went to the casino last weekend, Coco almost had him. He was in her hotel room and she tried to suck his dick, but he had an attitude because she didn’t tell him she would be staying in the room, too.”
“So what did she tell him? That she had an extra coupon for a room?”
“Girl, yes! But her crazy ass didn’t tell him that Pudding was in a room with Antoine, so he would have to be with her.”
They all laughed again as Christian gritted her teeth and quietly put her phone back in her purse.
“So did he end up staying in the room, or did he leave?”
“He left around two that morning, but she said his dick was hard as hell. It’s only a matter of time. If he wants to ride with us, he gotta get with the program. We all sucking and fucking around here. I don’t give a fuck if you married or got a bitch. He gon’ give that dick up soon.”
Christian opened the door of the stall calmly as she asked, “To who?”
Their eyes bucked and they took a step back, not expecting her or anyone else to be in the bathroom. Allowing her purse to rest on top of the door, Christian cupped her hands together in the center of her.
“Who is Tyrell giving the dick up to?” she asked again with a soft smile.
Never one to fight over a man, she would smack the spit out of a bitch’s mouth for disrespect. And it was disrespectful as fuck to try and have sex with a man that you knew had a woman. Tyrell would be handled, but these bitches would be, too.
“Y’all ain’t got shit to say now?”
Assuming the one who smirked was the one who last spoke, Christian stepped in her direction, not even worried about the other two. She’d been jumped before in her life, and she still beat all their asses. When you grew up with twenty-six siblings, it was a must that you knew how to protect them and yourself. Hell, they learned how to fight from fighting each other as kids and teenagers. They could fuck with each other, but they never allowed an outsider to.
“Don’t try to check me,” she said, and her voice confirmed what Christian already knew. “Check your man.”
Christian looked the woman over from her horribly curled, lavender, synthetic weave to her green sweater and purple leggings. Her three-inch stilettos were leaning, begging for relief. Christian couldn’t help but chuckle. A man would always be a man and fuck whatever he could fuck, but Tyrell would have to get some standards about himself. If he was going to cheat, the least he could do was cheat with someone that looked better than her.
The longer Christian stared at the woman, the faster her heart beat. Tighter, she gritted her teeth. She would be damned if this was who Tyrell made a fool out of her with. Before she could stop herself, Christian’s hand wrapped around her sausage link neck, and she slammed the woman’s head into the bathroom mirror.
One of her friends quickly tried to run up, but Christian kicked her so hard in the stomach, she fell back and into the door of the stall. The third woman was smart; she stayed exactly where the hell she was as Christian directed her eyes back to Lavender.
“I should beat your ass on the strength of the disrespect alone, but I don’t want it to look like I’m fighting over that trick. So I’m going to let you go. But you might want to try to find your own dick, because not too many take kindly to women fucking with what’s theirs. If I find out about any of you bitches coming after Tyrell, I’m going to show you why they say the quiet ones are the most violent ones.”
After squeezing her neck a few seconds more, Christian released her and grabbed her purse as she coughed and cupped her neck. Christian looked at the other two women and smirked. They had no idea who they were fucking with, but if they kept trying her, they would soon find out.
Making her way out of the bathroom, her eyes scanned the shack for Tyrell. He was in the corner, laughing with Antoine and two other men. Already, there was a Bud Light being held between his pointer and middle finger. He was so deep in his conversation, he hadn’t even noticed her presence. That changed the moment she slapped him so hard, the sound reverberated against the walls.
“Daaammnnn,” Antoine sang, stepping back as Tyrell dropped his beer.
“You got me around these bitches, knowing they try to fuck you on the regular? You foul, Tyrell! Take me the fuck home — now!”
Not bothering to wait for him to agree, Christian made her way out of the shack and to the car. She was so upset, she rocked back and forth in her seat. Arguing and going back and forth had never been her thing, but she couldn’t help but mumble, “I don’t understand why this fool would try to make a fool out of me.” With a chuckle, she watched as Tyrell made his way to the car.
On one hand, she didn’t even want to hear his excuses, but on the other, she was anxious to know why he thought it was okay to move the way he was moving. For the entire ride to her place, they went back and forth, not really getting anything resolved. As angry as Christian was, she didn’t want to admit that that anger came from hurt and embarrassment.
Hurt over the fact that he would do something so stupid as to consistently hang around women that tried to have sex with him knowing he was with someone else.
Embarrassed over the fact that he had her in these women’s faces, knowing they were talking shit about her, while telling her she was overthinking and overreacting. Making something out of nothing. Creating a problem where there wasn’t one.
Telling her she was crazy. But she wasn’t crazy. Had never been crazy. This was what she got for not listening to her intuition.
“So what did you want me to do, Christian? I told them no. You want me to get out the club because a few of the women want to have sex with me?” Tyrell asked as he turned onto her street.
At that point, Christian knew there was no talking sense into him.
“If you can’t see how flawed and disrespectful that is, it doesn’t even matter, Tyrell. Just forget it.”
She didn’t even let him put the car in park good before she was hopping out and slamming the door behind her. He didn’t bother getting out, and Christian was glad. What was supposed to be a night of making things better between them had only made things worse. And as much as she wanted to blame Tyrell, she couldn’t. Time after time, he showed her that he was not the man for her, but she had gotten so used to being with him at this point, she put up with the bullshit.
Christian’s bedroom had always been her sanctuary. Her safe haven. She didn’t allow anyone entrance — not even Tyrell or Nash. She never wanted the energy of others to taint the space. It was to always be her place of peace. As she waited for Nash to arrive, Christian sat in the chair next to her bed and looked around her room. The space was so esthetically pleasing that just looking at it calmed her nerves.
The cream carpet that was originally in her three-bedroom home had been pulled, and she replaced it with white tile that had black and green diamonds interlocking on every one. Her bed, dressers, and nightstand were all black, but her chairs, lamps, and accents were gold. All of her paintings, curtains, and vases were bright floral prints.
Her hand wrapped around her huge floral coffee mug, and Christian looked down at its contents. The vanilla-caramel coffee that she’d spiked with whisky was just about gone, so she stood and headed for the kitchen for a refill. As she walked down the hall, the scent of her lavender and jasmine essential oil blend tickled her nostrils and made her smile. The combination of those two always lifted her mood.
By the time she made it to the kitchen and got her one-pot coffee maker going, Nash was ringing her doorbell. Christian made sure the belt on her black silk robe was secure before heading to let him in. She’d been so anxious to see him. To be in his arms. In his presence. Nash was a solid, steady force in her life that Christian honestly didn’t know how she’d be able to live without now that she had him.
>
He was so devoted to her, and he genuinely cared about her so much. It was Nash that convinced Christian that real, good men actually exist. Unfortunately, every real, good man in her life was taken. Except Nash. But Nash was off-limits. Not only were they good friends but he worked with her sister, too. And they were never supposed to mix business with pleasure.
Leigh and Ransom had always been the exception to that rule because you couldn’t tell Leigh shit, but Christian had always been firm on it. Especially with Nash. She would need him to always look out for Maria because of the way she moved, and Christian never wanted Nash caught up on her or any other woman enough to be knocked off his square when her sister needed him most. One wrong move, and Maria could easily be dead or in jail.
Hell… all of them could.
As soon as Christian opened the door and her eyes landed on Nash, she smiled. Biting down on her bottom lip didn’t do anything to hide it. Her shoulders hiked as she stuffed a squeal back down her throat. Christian may have tried to keep her emotions as leveled as she possibly could, but when it came down to Nash… Nash always made her happy. Excited. Giddy. Over the fucking moon.
Stepping into her home, the corners of his mouth were lifted into a small grin. Nash wasted no time pulling her into his arms. His chest. Christian melted there. Absolutely melted there. She allowed her body to go weak and mold against his as she inhaled his scent.
Sure… lots of men wore Dior Sauvage, but it smelled absolutely unique and perfect on his skin. Maybe it was the balance of the charcoal Sauvage soap and his natural scent, along with the cologne. Whatever it was, it smelled different on him. It was just the amount of fresh and clean, sweet and spicy.
Nash lowered himself to her ear and whispered, “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” and the feel of his breath combined with his gruff, low voice made chills cover her arms.
“I called you fifteen minutes ago and you’re here. That’s more than good, Nash.”
His low chuckle made Christian smile as he released her. “What that nigga do?” Nash questioned, kicking his shoes off at her door. It wasn’t a requirement, just something he did. He would always say her house was fancy, and he wouldn’t dare get dirt on her floors and carpet.
Christian’s home was definitely decorated with style and uniqueness in mind, so she couldn’t argue with him about that. From her by-room color scheme to the plush, bright furniture in every room… Christian had taken great care to make her home creatively her own. And she appreciated Nash’s admiration and respect.
“It’s not necessarily what he did, but what he didn’t tell me someone else did,” was how Christian started as they walked down the hallway. “Basically, them hoes in the car club that I felt wanted him, wanted him. They’ve been trying to fuck him, but he hasn’t been honest with me about it.”
“Didn’t you check him about that shit?”
“Yes! That’s why I was so upset. I’ve asked him several times about them because of how they look and act when I’m around, and every time, he’s made it seem like it was nothing. So we go out with them tonight, and I hear three of them in the bathroom, talking about how they are trying to get him to do threesomes and all that bullshit.”
Nash’s head shook as he looked over the liquor on her rolling bar. “So why you mad?”
His question didn’t mean he didn’t agree with her anger, but this had always been Nash’s way of keeping Christian logical. Not that he didn’t want her to ever feel, but he knew how important it was for her to remain logical. And balanced. He wanted her to always know why she was feeling the way she was feeling.
Leigh was too emotional.
Maria was too logical.
Christian prided herself on being right in the middle of both.
Inhaling a deep breath, she sat down on her turquoise colored sofa and watched Nash pour them both a shot of whisky.
“Because he downplayed my intuition and made it seem as if I was wrong. He also had me around people that he knows doesn’t like me and wants him. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve talked about me, and if I had not said anything, the conversation probably would have gotten worse. I just feel embarrassed and disrespected.”
Nash handed her the shot and sat so close to her, their legs brushed against each other.
“You can’t control what he says and does, and he can’t control what they do. It’s his choice to be in a club with scandalous-ass women, but he doesn’t have to entertain them or get out because of them. He just needs to put boundaries in place that respect you and his relationship with you. Personally, I wouldn’t be in that club because of their reputation.
It’s too many other car clubs in Memphis that are legit to choose from to be in that messy-ass, STD sharing ass group. But again, that’s his choice. It was wrong for him to put you in a position like that, knowing you were uncomfortable with it and them, but you gotta stop going against your intuition and taking his word as truth instead.
Tyrell is selfish as fuck. He won’t ever put your needs and wants first, and because he’s not your husband, nor do you demand that, he’s not required to.” Nash paused and titled her head in his direction by her chin, making sure their eyes were locked when he added, “That’s why you got to.”
Christian nodded slowly and smiled softly, feeling warmth radiate through her heart the longer she stared into his eyes. These were all things she knew, but they hit differently coming out of his mouth.
“You’re right. I admire how he can do whatever he wants, no matter what, just to make sure he enjoys himself and his life; I have to be the same way. I gotta stop waiting around for him to make memories, and I can’t make myself uncomfortable and consistently compromise to be with him when he’s not doing the same.”
Nash smiled with the right side of his mouth as his hand fell from her chin. “That’s my Gucci. Fuck that nigga, though. What you wanna do tonight?”
Christian chuckled as he downed his shot. Emotional Nash was about to leave the building, and he wouldn’t allow her to mope or be sad or even angry for the rest of the night, no matter what it took — and she loved him for it.
“Shit, I don’t know. I’m hungry as hell. Maybe grab something to eat and a few drinks and listen to some live music.”
Nash nodded in agreement. Christian loved music. It was one of her love languages. As often as she could, she played it. At work, she listened through her AirPods, and at home, she almost always had something flowing through her Bluetooth speakers unless she was in deep thought about something.
“I got you. Go put on that red sweater dress I like with some fishnet stockings and let your best friend take you out on a real date.”
With a smile and roll of her eyes, Christian stood and headed out of the living room. This was who she should have chosen to spend her night with in the first place.
When Leigh first set her trap for Patrick, she didn’t intend to go all the way with him. She’d only slept with three of her marks throughout her career. Leigh was able to finesse a man into a private place with only the promise or illusion of sex at this point… but Patrick was fine as fuck. And his dick was big as hell. As she watched him undress, Leigh couldn’t imagine letting such a beautifully curved erection go to waste.
A few days ago, Leigh took a job that was sent her way by a previous client. His sister, Angel, was in a horrible position. The man she’d devoted her entire life to since thirteen was about to divorce her and leave her with nothing — after subjecting her to twenty years of lying, cheating, and abuse. He’d apparently fallen in lust with an Instagram model that had convinced him to leave his wife, but he wasn’t so in lust that he resisted asking Leigh to come up to his room.
Angel had exactly seventy-two hours to change Patrick’s mind before making his mistress the beneficiary on his ten-million-dollar life insurance policy. Since she’d signed a prenup, that policy was the only financial security she had for her children. After crying to her brother about it, he offered Leigh as a so
lution. They met, and when Leigh heard of Angel’s woes and saw the pictures of Patrick’s abuse… she was willing to do whatever she needed to do to help her.
And as she stared into his beautifully rich brown eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder why some of the most beautiful people had the ugliest of souls.
Leigh put her plan into play this morning. She made sure to check into his favorite cheat spot, the Whintom hotel, at the same time as him. They flirted for a few seconds before she let him know that she would be having lunch at the hotel restaurant. Patrick joined her, and he played right into her hand. Leigh said everything his ego wanted to hear, causing him to crave her when they parted ways. She let him know what room she would be staying in, and close to nine p.m., Patrick was knocking on her door.
Not wanting to appear too easy, she didn’t let him into her room, preferring they go down to the bar to talk in public instead. After three shots, she pretended to be tipsy and ready for whatever. Now, they were back in his room, and Patrick was standing in front of her as naked as the day he was born.
With a slight motion of her head, Leigh instructed Patrick to get in bed as she slipped out of her black heels. Next, her jeans came down. Her bottom set of lips leaked as Patrick stroked his dick in anticipation.
“You gon’ eat this pussy and make sure I’m ready for you,” Leigh checked, pulling her shirt over her head.
“You already ready for me, but you can sit on my face anyway.”
Leigh smirked as she put her heels back on. Walking over to the bed, she tried her hardest to block images of Ransom out of her head. Usually, when she messed off with another man, she didn’t think about him until afterwards. This was the first time he crossed her mind before the deed was done. In fact, this was the first time she’d had sex with another man in about six months.
For the first couple of years of their unrelationship, Ransom fucked off with people as well. But the closer they got, the less he wanted others. That was the case, to a certain extent, with Leigh. None of the men she dealt with could compare to Ransom, so she had no idea why she fucked off with them. Still… she did.