Long As You Know Who You Belong To 2

by Bri Noreen

  “You’re the one that buried your face in my pussy. Don’t blame this on me.”

  Karma adjusted her dress, pulling it back over the lower body and then tucked her breast back under the clingy fabric. I forced myself to tear my eyes away from her. I was definitely hitting her off with some dick later on tonight but for now we needed to handle the business at hand.

  “I’m sending in Ashlynn early and I got my distraction heavy in the works. Now I need to know that you’re ok with me leading on this. I need you to stay a ghost so that means you have to stay as far away from Grey as possible. “

  “I’m good with staying out of the way but this time table you got is starting to urk me. You moving at the speed of a snail and I’m ready to get this shit over and done with.”

  “Patience is a virtue, Karma.” I reminded her.

  “Fuck patience. I want that mothafucka dead! Do you understand what he did to me?” her voice raised as the anger started to brew inside of her. “I still have burns that were so bad that the best surgeons in the country couldn’t fix because of that foul ass nigga and you want me to have patience?”

  “I don’t want you to have patience. I need you to have patience. Going after Grey with the kind of emotion that you’re dealing with is a sure fire way to get you fucked up again. Grey is smart and he doesn’t make any moves without a lot of thought. Take it from a nigga that thinks in a similar fashion, your ass is good as dead if you go in now.”

  She huffed and tossed a strand of hair out of her face. Even when she was pissed, she was beautiful. I knew that we had come together on business but I was going to make sure that we ended with pleasure. That’s why I needed her to understand that my approach was going to be the best option. I didn’t want to have to end up without her because she couldn’t control herself.

  “Ok, Roman, I’m going to go along with you little plan but I need something to keep me busy. I’m getting restless hiding out and shit while you’re out here having all the damn fun.”

  “Oh I got something that’ll keep that ass busy. Don’t even worry about that.”

  She tossed me a devilish grin once she caught my drift and went back to sipping on her martini. I knew that she was getting antsy but I knew what I was doing. Two years of planning was going to put us exactly where we wanted to be; fucking this niggas world up and getting away with it.

  Kimani

  August 2015

  I hopped out of my whip and took a deep breath. I had tried to mentally prepare for this shit on the drive over here, but you could never really brace yourself for a whole day around Vicious. Today was the day of the video shoot for Wild 1’s new song “Hearts and Daggers,” and I was not ready to see Vicious again. But to refute those dumb-ass rumors, I had to suck it up and do what I had to do.

  The scenes that I would be shooting were going to take place at a tattoo parlor and the loft apartment that was above it. As I walked in the doors of the tattoo place, my jaw threatened to hit the floor. I had never seen a place like it in my life. This wasn’t your standard, run-of-the-mill tattoo shop. It was dark and moody, high tech, and dope as fuck. The exposed brick that lined the walls was mostly covered in artistic spray painted graffiti, and broken, dimly lit chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Each booth was separated from the others by Plexiglas that extended from the floor to the ceiling and were lined with black drapes for added privacy. Dark almost black wood flooring ran throughout the place, and there was a computer station in the back that had been specifically set up to showcase the gallery of artwork the artists had done. There was a lounge area in front where people could wait for their tattoo artist to become available, and I saw a few hookahs lined up behind the reception area. I could tell that the equipment was state-of-the-art, and based on how everything was set up, the owner was professional and on his shit. It was too dope in here.

  “Oh, Kimani! Great, you’re here. Come with me. Wardrobe is in the back.” Winnie, Vicious’ manager came flying from the back of the shop and ushered me to where hair and makeup was.

  After getting a layer of makeup applied to my face and having the top of my body oiled down, Winnie came back into the room on her jittery, chicken-with-its-head-cut-off shit.

  “So the owner is a big fan of yours, so I thought I’d come and introduce you two.” Winnie smiled while bouncing in place as if she’d had a week’s worth of expresso shots.

  “No doubt.” I nodded, unsure why this nigga would be a big fan of mine unless he was gay.

  Winnie stepped out of the way, and the person that appeared behind her made me sit up straight in my chair. It was the girl from the elevator. A sly grin found its place on my face as I looked her over. Even more bomb than the day I’d first seen her, baby girl was dressed in a pair of black ripped jeans, a black and white cut-off tank that read ‘Fleeky’ across the chest, a pair of blood red pumps, and a stark white vest that reached the middle of her hips. Her long dark hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck with her little baby hairs smoothed down, and a pair of fly-ass shades were perched on top of her head. She was styling. This must’ve been a sign because it was too coincidental that’d we been in the same place at the same time twice. I decided in that moment, I was going to try my hand at moving on. I couldn’t keep living for someone who wasn’t here.

  “This is two times in a row that my presence alone has rendered you speechless.” She giggled.

  “The difference is this time I won’t be dumb enough to let you out of my sight without getting your name and your number,” I stated smoothly.

  She blushed and extended her hand to me. “Keaire Fox.”

  “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. Kimani.”

  “Oh, I know who you are. When I saw that you were going to be the talent alongside Vicious, I made it a point to clear my schedule to be here.”

  “Damn, I got it like that already?” I smiled.

  “You got it anyway you want it,” she remarked. My eyebrows raised, and her hand immediately flew to her mouth in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud!”

  “Aye, don’t be ashamed. Bold women are definitely a turn on,” I said as I leaned forward and pulled her hand from across her mouth. She blushed before she invaded the little space that was left between us.

  “So you would like it if I told you that I have already made a reservation for eight o’clock tomorrow night at my favorite restaurant in anticipation of our first date?”

  “I’d love that shit.” My tongue grazed my lips as I stared at her. She was making my dick hard and she ain’t even know it.

  “Good. Well here’s my card. Call me and we’ll talk details.”

  I took the card from her hand and tapped it against my fingers. I looked up to say something else to her, but I was met with her lips instead. It was a soft, sensual kiss that lasted no more than a few seconds. When she pulled away, the sweet taste of peaches lingered on my lips. Keaire batted her long lashes at me before she walked away without another word. I slid her card in the back pocket of the Paper Supply jeans wardrobe had supplied me with and went on about my day.

  Due to the chance meeting with Keaire, I was able to get through the day without stabbing myself in the neck from being around Vicious. She was still on my head, doing the most like always, but I was able to block her out and do what they were paying me to do. As soon as the director called it a wrap, I bounced. I hopped into my car and drove over to Grey’s house since this nigga had been MIA for the last few days. With all the shit that was going on with the two clubs and the restaurant, I was shocked that I hadn’t heard from him at all. But I was going to pop up on his ass like a jealous girlfriend to get some damn answers and make sure he was good.

  I pulled up at Grey’s house about twenty minutes later and used my key to let myself in. The house was dark, but I knew Grey’s ass was there because both his cars were parked out front, and his keys were on the hall table.

  “Grey! Where yo ass at, boy?” I yelled.

  I
waited for a few moments, but didn’t get a reply, so I stepped inside the house, closed the door and ventured into his living room. This nigga was sitting on the couch with a glass of liquor in his hand and an open bottle perched on the table in front of him. His head was hanging down, and his dreads were loose from their usual ponytail and falling all over his head.

  “Nigga, what the fuck is up? I’ve been calling you for the last few days.”

  “Yeah, I saw it,” he grumbled.

  I cocked my head to the side confused by the scene I was witnessing. This nigga appeared to be mighty depressed about something, but I had never known this nigga to sweat a damn thing this hard. Plus he was getting money hand over foot, had a bad-ass chick, and was opening a new business in a matter of weeks. What could he possibly be depressed about?

  “Aye, man. What’s up, bro? What you sitting in the dark looking like you lost ya best friend for?” I asked, taking a seat in the air chair across from the couch.

  “B gon’ tell me she need space. She won’t return my calls or open the door when I come by. I don’t even fucking know why she on that bullshit, man!”

  As soon as the last sentence left his mouth, his glass full of liquor went flying above my head and shattered against the wall behind me. I didn’t even flinch. I knew he loved Blaze, but damn, this nigga was physically sick over her. This wasn’t my brother at all.

  “C’mon, son. You know Blaze is crazy about your light bright ass. She’s probably going through her own shit and needs some time to sort through it all. Just give her some time. She’ll come through when she’s ready,” I said, believing every word I’d spoken.

  Grey ran his hands over his dreads, tossing him back and sighed. When he finally looked up, I could see the bags under his eyes and the distress inside them. I knew I needed to either make this nigga an appointment with Dr. Phil or I needed to take his mind off B for a little while.

  “Yo, get yo funky ass up and get in the shower. We going out.” I stood and grabbed my phone out of my pocket.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “The fuck you is! We’re going to check on our investment and pop some bottles. I’ll be damned if I let you sit in the dark on your Drake shit while I got money tied up in your depressed ass. I’m calling Jerk and Tyler to meet us at Clappers, so hurry yo ass up!”

  Finally, getting the hint that I wasn’t letting up, Grey dragged himself upstairs and got in the shower. I cleaned up the broken glass and liquor and hopped in the guest room shower to get ready. I was grateful that the wardrobe stylist from the set had let me keep all the fits from the video shoot, even the ones we didn’t end up using, because I didn’t feel like running back to my crib to get dressed.

  An hour later, Grey came down the stairs looking like a new nigga. He was wearing his dreads half up and half down and had cleaned up the stubble growing around his face that made him look like one of them homeless niggas off Skid Row. Grey was wearing a pair of black jeans, a white button down shirt with leather shoulder details and a pair of Air Jordan 9 Baron’s. His fit was toned down from his usual, but he still looked like the boss-ass nigga I knew him to be. I had decided to go a little bit more suave for the evening because I was having a special guest come through. Dressed in a pair of navy slacks, a loose-fitting white tee, a khaki colored Dsquared2 blazer, and a pair of cognac-colored Magnanni double strap loafers, a nigga looked like I had come straight from a GQ shoot. I pulled a brush from my duffle bag and brushed down the thick waves on top of my head before switching up my earrings from the white gold pair to the platinum pair.

  I followed Grey into his kitchen and watched as he walked over to his bar area and poured us a couple shots of Courvoisier L’Esprit. Grey was a liquor connoisseur, and his bar was stocked with shit I had never heard of and could barely pronounce. The shots we were about to take were coming from a $5,000 a pop bottle. It was boss-nigga shit for real. He walked over and handed me two shot glasses filled with the amber colored liquid.

  “Yo, real shit, thanks for coming and getting a nigga together real quick. I ain’t never had nobody knock me off my square like that.”

  “You’re just a nigga in love. I understand that. But if I hadn’t come through, your ass probably would’ve been the subject of somebody’s light skin niggas be like Instagram meme.” I laughed.

  “Says the nigga that’s damn near see-through,” he countered. We both fell out laughing.

  Toasting to a good night, we clinked glasses and threw our shots back before we left from Grey’s crib. We rode to Clappers in his rose gold Lamborghini Aventador. That shit was whipped! We got to the club in record timing, dapped up security and slid inside. Jerk and Tyler were already in the VIP area wildin’ the fuck out with damn near the whole dancing staff bent over and twerking to Wale’s “Clappers,” the clubs namesake.

  Before we could enter the booth, ten waitresses came through like a train with two bottles each in their hands and sparklers shot off from every single one. The deejay announced our presence over the loud music, and I can’t even front. I felt like that nigga. Soon as we joined our niggas in the booth, they started clowning.

  “These high yellow model niggas!” Jerk exclaimed.

  “Aye, that’s the only billboard-ass nigga in here. Don’t group me with him!” Grey yelled.

  “Fuck that! Y’all both look like y’all should be making duck lips for somebody’s ad campaign! Fuck outta here!” Tyler stated.

  We couldn’t do shit but laugh. We greeted them with daps and hugs, and as soon as I finished showing love, I turned around to come face to face with my guest. Beautiful as always, Keaire was wearing the hell out of a grey suede skirt that reached her knees and a revealing lace top that showed off her perfect breasts. My mouth watered as the thought of sucking on her pretty nipples crossed my mind. I was definitely smashing that tonight. I smiled at her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the VIP section. Pulling her close, I whispered in her ear.

  “I’m glad that you could make it.”

  “I’m glad that you invited me. It would have been torture to have to wait until tomorrow to see your fine ass.”

  She had me blushing like a little bitch. I was glad that it was dark in here, so that she couldn’t call me out on that shit.

  “We can go to the back where it’s more private,” I suggested.

  She dug into her purse and pulled out two stacks of ones. “Naw, I brought money to blow, so I need to see some pussy poppin’.” She smirked.

  Fuck! If she kept talking like that, the only pussy popping she was going to witness was her own. I let her have that, though and called over a few dancers to give her a lap dance. Cocaine, Drizzle, and Fortune came sauntering over as soon as they caught me waving. I made sure Keaire was straight before I walked away to get the chef in the back to send us some food. As I walked through the crowd, I saw a woman sitting at the bar with her back turned to me. Even though I couldn’t see her face, there was something familiar about her presence. When she absently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, I felt my stomach drop to the soles of my shoes. It couldn’t be...

  “Blu!” I yelled. The woman didn’t move. “Blu!” I screamed over the music.

  The woman never turned around. I shook my head. I was fucking losing it. I was in the club with one of the baddest chicks I had seen in a long time, throwing money and parlaying with my niggas, and my mind was still conjuring up images of the woman I had buried months ago. When was I going to be able to let her go? Right the fuck now, I said to myself. I started walking in the opposite direction of the woman, confident about my decision to move on, but something pulled me closer to her. I tried to get my mind and my common sense to overrule the shit that was being stirred around in my heart, but it was impossible. Even though I had held her dying body in my arms, planned the funeral, and watched the casket drop into the ground, I had to be sure. I pushed my way through the crowd, and just as I was about to scream her name again, she hopped off the bar stool and turned in my d
irection.

  “Blu?”

  Blu

  August 2015

  My breath got caught in my throat, and I wasn’t quite sure why. I was staring into the deepest sea green eyes I had ever seen, and they seemed to twinkle at the sight of me. Although there seemed to be something familiar about the owner of those pretty emerald eyes, I didn’t know him, but he seemed to know me. He stared at me like he was hallucinating; like I was a mirage he was shocked to see. He reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder. But it wasn’t in a loving or even a familiar way, but like he was trying to grasp whether or not who he was seeing was real. As soon as his fingertips touched my skin, a wave of electricity surged through my body, causing me to stumble backwards.

  He reached out for me again, but I bolted for the door. A swarm of emotions engulfed me as I hauled ass to my car confused about what I was feeling. Hurriedly, I stuck the key in the ignition and sped off and into the street almost hitting a car in oncoming traffic. I drove for a mile or two before I pulled over to gather myself. My labored breathing slowly ceased as I racked my brain trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Too much had happened today, and I was having a hard time sorting it all out. Today had been the day I had finally decided to put my plan into action.

  “Baby, where you at? Damn it smells good as fuck in here.” I heard Israel’s voice floating into the kitchen indicating that he was nearby.

  I hurriedly folded the napkin full of crushed pills and put them inside the canister of flour that was near the stove before he entered. I took in his appearance and wanted to shake my head at him. Why did he have to be so damn deceitful? Lord knows this man was fine and if he wasn’t so fucked up, we could have actually had something real. Dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a fitted white shirt and a pair of silver Nike Huaraches, he swaggered into the room and wrapped his arms around my waist. He buried his head in my neck, placing light kisses there that made me giggle.