I can’t lie. She was bad. I looked at a lot of bodies and it’s rare that I saw any without any work done or that were minus the tell-tale signs from havin’ kids. Her body was fuckin’ perfect. Her breasts were full and slightly pointed upward, and I loved bitches with full hips and thighs, and she had it all. I felt myself gettin’ excited as I pictured her spread out on my desk, but I squelched that shit; she ain’t passed all the test yet. Daddy dick ain’t for erebody.
“Come over here. I need to ask you somethin’.” I took a sip from my glass and felt the cognac heat up my throat and chest, and warm my stomach. Ms. Red walked around the side of the desk slowly, eyes focused on mine. Like a huntress. There was no shyness, no nothin’.
“So what type of shit are you into?” I asked. I was eye level with firm, erect nipples and did my damnedest to avoid lowering my gaze toward the soft curve of her waist and bare, perfectly waxed pussy. She didn’t even blink and answered me in that same sultry tone.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m into you right now and I think you should get undressed so you can get into me.”
If I were a weaker nigga with a green-eyed model-lookin’ beauty standing in front of me naked, this conversation would have never been happenin’, but somethin’ jus’ ain’t seem right with shorty. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I took another sip from my glass.
“You don’t look like you’d have a problem gettin’ any nigga on the street, what makes me such an exception that you in here ready to throw down an ain’ even asked my name?” Exactly what I thought. The bitch ain’t even have the nerve to answer me. When a nigga knows, a nigga knows. I knew exactly why she was here. I explained to her, “I been doin’ this shit for a while and it’s almost like when someone walks into a store and the salesman knows exactly what they’re lookin for.” I reached into my desk and pulled out what I liked to call “pick your poison.” I had everything from cigarettes on up to heroin and coke stashed in a small mahogany box in my desk.
Growin’ up my mother worked out of state so my auntie raised me. I grew up watchin’ this woman shoot herself up with my lunch money, book money, hell sometimes the bitch would sell my clothes and shoes if someone was buyin’. On more than one occasion she offered me sex. Anything that would get me to give in and give her the money to go get fucked up. I never told my mom. I didn’t want to make her feel any worse for leavin’ me with her fucked-up sister than she’d already felt. I was so young and stupid. I had no problem lettin’ my aunt suck me off for a couple of crack rocks; hell, head is head. A man can only say no so many times before it turns into a yes. My boys even smashed once or twice in exchange for ten or twenty dollars. I watched my aunt degrade herself to ho’n for her habit. To this day, I can’t seriously fuck with a woman who smokes a cigarette or does anything harder than weed. Don’t get it twisted, though, I can fuck all day, but if she got a habit she can’t be anything more than a casual fuck. Rule number three of supply and demand.
I undid the twenty-four-karat gold clasps on the mahogany case in which I kept every drug addict’s dream. There was an almost immediate change in her demeanor. The calmness was gone, and a sheen of sweat formed on her forehead and upper lip. Damn, this nigga was good. This ho wasn’t nothin’ but a damn fiend. Before I could even get the box completely open, she reached across me and grabbed a Baggie that held a few crack rocks and a pipe. I didn’t bother stoppin’ her. Why waste the energy fightin’ her for a li’l crack? She wasn’t going to do much with that pipe hypnotizin’ her. I’d just let the boys come in and drag her ass out. No point gettin’ my hands dirty behind some crack ho.
I reached under my desk and hit my “nigga, get in here” button. Yep, just like the ones they use at banks to signal a robbery. Michelle had given me that idea. If niggas ever tried to rob me or get stupid, that was Derrick and Big Baby’s cue to get their asses in here. It was rigged to a red light outside my office door. Ms. Red sat cross-legged in the floor right in front of my desk, lightin’ up like she was the only one in the room.
I sat back and waited for my boys to come get her. After a few minutes, I hit the button again. Normally, they would have responded within a few seconds. I kept a forty-five in my left-hand desk drawer as well as in the end table closest to the bathroom. I looked at ol’ girl, but could tell she really wasn’t gonna be any more of a threat. She was sittin’ on the floor butt-ass naked, eyes rollin’ back in her head.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Derrick’s number, no answer. I was makin’ my way to the door when I tripped over her clothes. My foot hit somethin’ harder than a dress or a shoe and I bent down and was in complete shock as I picked up a pearl-handled handgun. It was loaded and everything. I stuffed it in my pocket and rushed out into the club.
I saw Derrick before he saw me and noticed the nigga was steady glancin’ at his cell, yet he ain’ answer when I’d just hit his ass. Big Baby was nowhere to be seen so I started to make my way over to Derrick.
I made my way through the maze of bodies. Dancers were tryin’ to make small talk, niggas tryin’ to dap me up. No one was gettin’ outta my way fast enough. I bumped into Annette, declined a drink or whatever the fuck she was tryin’ to offer me, and looked back up to see Derrick approachin’ me.
“Nigga! You ain’t see me hittin’ you? My office. Now!”
I didn’t wait to see if he was followin’ me or not. I marched my ass back to where I’d left ol’ girl. We walked in and I was stupefied; the bitch was gone along with my damn goodie box.
14
More Than Coincidence
No one, and I repeat, not one muthafuckin’ person had seen this chick come or go. I was startin’ to feel like my day was goin’ so good that I’d inadvertently pissed Murphy off and now all his laws were smackin’ me in the face.
Before I left the club to go home, Derrick let me know that he might need to cut out early and that two of the brothas were catchin’ hell on the street. Apparently, there were one or three overdose incidents and all of ’em were loyal customers. In the drug community, a heroin overdose can either work in your favor or it can work against you. Now addicts were either gonna flock to the shit thinkin’ we got the purest product on the market and it’s so potent it’s dangerous. Or, they were gonna be scared we cuttin’ our shit down too much and they’d buy from someone else. I told him we would look into the shit in the mornin’. All I wanted right now was to go home and have Michelle rub a nigga back. I chuckled to myself. On second thought, let’s stick wit’ the temples. My back was in no condition for her to see. I had Derrick drop me off at my car since I was parked damn near half a mile away.
“Yo, nigga,” Derrick called out as I got out the car. “Want me to go check ya back seat for any mighty midget assassin bitches?” He was laughin’ at his own joke and slappin’ his knee.
My life was possibly threatened and this nigga had to be the one with the jokes. I shook my head and frowned, not really feelin’ comedic at the moment. “Nah, my dude, somethin’s up an’ the fact that she got a fuckin’ gun through security should be botherin’ you, too.” I walked over to my car, sneakin’ a glace around me while unlockin’ the driver side door. I was tryin’ to convince myself ol’ girl was just a druggie and I jus’ happened to be a dealer, and that was the only connection—but sometimes the hardest person to convince is ya’self.
I drove home in silence, not really lookin’ at the road or signs. I was on autopilot. Big Baby called but I ain’t answer. My phone beeped when he left me a voice mail. I was surprised my shit wasn’t full. I pulled up into my driveway, anxious to see my son, even if he was asleep. Where the fuck was Michelle? For a second I thought I’d pulled up to the wrong damn house. This couldn’t be right. I looked at the clock. It was damn near 3:00 A.M. Where was she and where the hell was my son? I walked through the dark, cold house realizin’ that their ass really wasn’t home. I remembered her callin’ me earlier when I was with Honey, textin’ me ‘bout some fuckin’ cereal, and
now this? Oh. I stopped in my tracks an’ smirked in the dark. This bitch was playin’ hardball. I guessed eighteen ignored calls drew the line for her. When I’d noticed no one was home I’d instinctively pulled my cell out of my pocket, ready to speed dial Michelle’s number. I sighed into the darkness and turned off my cell, laying it to rest on the kitchen counter. I’d had enough for one night. I was starting to feel worn out. I didn’t even bother undressing or showering; I went into the bedroom and lay across the bed fully clothed.
“Rasheed, get up.” I heard a woman’s voice pullin’ me from a dreamless sleep. I turned from my back onto my side, away from the disturbance.
“Damn, Honey, give daddy like twenty more minutes, okay?” Before the words were completely outta my mouth, realization set in and I remembered where I was. Fuck!
“Nigga, I ain’t ya damn honey. It’s almost noon and you’ve got company.”
Michelle didn’t catch it. Whew. For once I was that glad she was in a pissy mood. I sat up and rubbed the sleep outta my eyes. “Who’s here?” There weren’t too many mufuckas who knew where I lived. For someone to show up meant it was serious. Michelle had her back to me, puttin’ away laundry. She was doin’ her damnedest not to answer me. I wanted to ask where the hell she went las’ night, but figured whatever it was that brought someone to my crib was more important.
“My dude, you know I wouldn’t come ova here if it wasn’t important.” Derrick was standin’ in my livin’ room in the same clothes he had on last night, unshaved and lookin’ like he either had one helluva good night, or just a plain ol’ helluva night.
“Me an’ Big Baby been blowin’ you up since las’ night. There’s somethin’ we gotta handle at the club.” I could hear Michelle comin’ toward the front room and decided we carry our convo outside. I was silent while I slid on my shoes and tried to remember where the hell I’d set my phone. It was on the counter where I’d left it, dead since I hadn’t put it on the charger.
Derrick followed me onto the front porch. Damn, it was already hot out.
“All right, nigga, what’s the emergency?” I was prepared for the worst, mentally settin’ myself up to leave town, set up a hit, possibly even do time. When you’re involved in a lot of shit you always gotta be ready for the flies. They always come, and they come at you from all directions.
“Word is they cuttin’ Danita a serious deal if she’ll give you up. She said she won’t talk if you’ll work somethin’ out wit’ her. T, from the precinct, dropped me a line, sayin’ they got a new chief an’ he gunnin’ fa any nigga in there acceptin’ pay fa favors. If a cop so much as piss crooked, this nigga in there cuttin’ throats.”
All fell silent while I processed this new twist of fate. This was unexpected but it wasn’t the worst. I knew I’d think of somethin’.
“All right.” I put my hand on Derrick’s shoulder. “You my boy, you the fuckin’ co-captain of this ship. Ain’t no ship with two of the trillest mufuckas in the world gonna go down ’causa one gotdamn white boy or an outta work ho. This ain’t the Titanic. B, calm the fuck down.” I looked my boy in the eye, the same nigga who ditched high school with me eight years ago ‘cause we had the same vision. Instead of cuttin’ class to get fucked up or chase pussy, we decided to make niggas pay us so they could come to the crib and do whateva. By this time my mom had moved back, but I still stayed with my aunt. My momma, not used to raisin’ a son, came back when I was fourteen and wanted to raise a nigga like I was still in diapers. At least she made an honest attempt at us havin’ a family. My aunt, on the otha hand, was easy. Get her doped up and the crib was my castle. We were both only sixteen when we started out. Look at us now. I ain’t planned on lettin’ that change for no one.
“Look, let me change up an’ I’ll meet you at the club in like thirty, a’ight?”
I didn’t wait for Derrick to reply, and headed back inside outta that damn heat. A nigga’s balls was startin’a sweat. I could hear the shower runnin’ in the bathroom. I walked into Trey’s room. My li‘l man was out cold, takin’ a nap in his “big boy” bed. I smiled and kissed him on the forehead, silently promisin’ him I had our lives under control. As I left and closed the door I could smell nectarine or melon, some kinda sweet-scented fruity shit driftin’ down the hallway. It was time to get to the bottom of Michelle’s disappearin’ act. I opened the bathroom door and enjoyed the warm rush of steam as it hit my face. As much as a nigga hate to be hot I sure as hell enjoy hot showers.
“Who takes a shower at almost one in the afternoon?” I closed the bathroom door and posted up against it, starin’ at Michelle’s frame through the shower glass. No response.
“Funny, you had a mouthful when we had a audience, an’ now you ain’ got shit to say, huh?” I watched while Michelle ignored me and lathered her arms and neck. Shit, I was actually enjoyin’ the show, even though I was still a li’l peeved. Michelle turned her back to rinse and I took off my shoes and undid my pants.
“Nigga, what you doin’?” I slid my body behind Michelle’s and wrapped my arms around her. She tried to slap my hands away.
“Rasheed, this ain’ the time. Get out, I’m not even fuckin’ playin wi’chu right now.”
I tightened my reverse bear hug and rested my chin on her shoulder. She was tensed up, ready to fight, but God she felt good. Out of all the bitches I’d eva fucked wit’, she was one of the few who just felt right. Not only was she thick than a mufucka, but she was tall. I was excited afta Trey was born when she worked out, toned herself back into shape. She still managed to keep what I liked to call “dem baby titties” and didn’t lose any of her ass. I closed my eyes and exhaled.
“Baby, what are we doin?” I felt her body relax jus’ a li’l as she lowered her head.
“It’s not ‘we’ anymore, Rasheed, there’s you and then there’s me and your son.”
I felt my chest tighten from the pain in her voice.
“Chelle, you know what I gotta do to keep us betta than comfortable. To make it so Trey don’t have to do what his daddy do when he grow up.” Michelle’s hair was pinned up, exposing all of her neck. I took my chin off her shoulder and placed my lips at the back of her neck, pullin’ her body closer into mine. I waited for an objection, a “but,” or a “why?” Instead, she stood there and silently cried.
“Baby, one day I‘ma turn the club an’ erethang ova to D. I‘ma retire an’ we gonna get old an’ sit on the porch ...”
Michelle finished the last part with me. “An’ rock in our rockin’ chairs gettin’ blitzed offa boxed wine.”
We both giggled. The first time we got into that argument that ere nigga who don’t wanna get married gotta have, those were my exact words to let her know I wasn’t goin’ anywhere.
“Rasheed, I only see you a few times a week—I miss you. Last night, you ignored every call and I felt like I ain’t mean shit to you, like I ain’t got nothin’ on whoeva you’re with, or whateva you’re doing. I packed up Trey an’ ...”
I didn’t need to hear any more. I knew I was wrong and, in the process of me bein’ a selfish mufucka, I’d made my angel suffer—again. I didn’t even care to know where she went or who she stayed with. I just wanted to make it right.
The bathroom was steamed up, lookin’ like the inside of a cloud. I could feel the roundness of Michelle’s ass pressin’ into me, and the heat from the water was relaxin’ to us both. I rubbed my lips across the back of her neck.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” That was her spot. I felt every ounce of resistance leave her body as I continued to alternate runnin’ my lips across the back of her neck and goin’ back the same way my lips had come wit’ my tongue.
Michelle lowered her head, turnin’ her neck wit’ my mouth. She let out a sigh and slid her hand behind her in between our bodies to grab my dick. I was already rock solid. She stroked upward, applyin’ jus’ the right amount of squeeze while rotatin’ her hand and then goin’ back down. I dragged my lips from the back of her neck and sucked on her
earlobe while my hands went to cup her full, heavy breasts, slidin’ her hard nipples between my fingers. I laughed to myself. She betta be thankful I’m such a ambidextrous mufucka. I released one of her nipples and ran my hand downward, lettin’ my nails lightly graze her smooth, flat stomach ’til I reached my destination and parted her lips. My baby was ready. I let my finger glide across her clit and eased one inside. Chelle sucked in a sharp breath as her pussy adjusted and moistened aroun’ my finger. Damn, even with the hot water all over us she still felt hotter. I brought my finger up to her mouth, provokin’ her to taste herself. She didn’t skip a beat and even swirled her tongue ‘round it inside her mouth, lickin’ it dry. I grabbed her chin, turned her head toward me, and teased her at first by nibblin’ her bottom lip before finally kissin’ her and lettin’ myself enjoy how good her tongue tasted wit’ her on it. Michelle was strokin’ me somewhere I wasn’t ready to be yet. I reached down and moved her hand, makin’ her beg.
“Baby, please?”
That was all a nigga needed to hear. Usually when bitches wanted it like this, I’d have to bend my knees or squat to get it jus’ right, but not wit’ Chelle, we always jus’ fit. I could feel my pulse throbbin’ in my dick as I leaned her forward slightly and slowly guided my way into her heat. Once I was completely inside I stopped. Frustrated, Michelle sucked her teeth on the verge of a complaint.
“Unh unh, woman, don’t even start. Lean back a li‘l.” As soon as her back was pressed flat against my chest an’ the back of her head was restin’ on my shoulder, I braced myself against the shower wall, covered her mouth wit’ my hand, and drove myself upward, diggin’ even deeper into her heat. I’d wrapped my arm ’round her waist to support her weight ’cause, jus’ as I’d expected, her knees buckled and she let out a cry that was muffled by my hand.
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