Boss Bitch Swag

by Cynthia White

  “You do this for all yo women, Boss?” she tried to act like she wasn’t impressed, “or you gonna try and convince me that I’m special?”

  I pulled out her chair and waited until she took a seat. She didn’t need me to tell her she was special; she already knew she was. She carried herself like she had royal blood running through her veins. It was the pedigree I wanted in my bloodline. She was the kind of woman I wanted to be the mother of my children. I was starting to think about shit like that. What good was all money, the big house, the cars, and all the other perks if you didn’t have anyone to share it with? Now that we were alone in my home, I had the chance to pick her brain and see if the vision I had for my future was anywhere close to the one she had for hers.

  I kept the dinner conversation light. We talked enough about ourselves to keep it interesting, but not too much that it got entirely too deep for a first date. It felt good to be in the company of an intelligent woman. Kitty had been places I’d only seen in magazines, and I listened like an adoring fan while she told me all about her adventures. She made me think about taking my own trips.

  After our three course meal, we took the conversation into the living room and let our tired bodies relax on my custom ordered caramel leather Natuzzi sectional sofa. Kitty looked good lounging in my usual spot, and I didn’t mind; I’d have let her sit on my lap if that’s what she wanted.

  Our third glass of champagne veered the conversation in another direction. I sat back and listened while Kitty told me everything I needed to know about her. She was married before (that much I already knew), but what happened and why she was now alone was still a mystery to me. I didn’t ask any questions; I just sat there with an open mind and paid attention while she told her story.

  “His name was Christoff." She smiled as she began to reminisce. “Everybody called him Chris. He hated that name, ‘Christoff.’” She looked at me and laughed at what was obviously an inside joke between her and her husband. “I met him when I was seventeen. My mother hated him,” she laughed again, “but then again, my mother hates everybody.” Suddenly, the look on her face went from one of joy to one of pain. “Anyway, Chris was twenty years older than me, but our birthdays were on the exact same day. When I turned eighteen, he turned thirty-eight.”

  “That’s why yo mama hated him,” I said, offering up my first comment on her history. “That’s a big age difference.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed with me. “She thought he was too old for me, and she was probably right - but I didn’t care. I fell so hard for him so fast.” Tears began to well up in her eyes. “He saw something in me that nobody else did. He believed in me. He supported my ideas,” she said, wiping away the tears as quickly as they fell, “no matter how silly they were.”

  For the first time since I’d known her, I saw the real Katrina. ‘Kitty’ was her front; she took her out and used her when somebody tried to get too close. It was the same exact way I used ‘Boss.’ He and Kitty were a perfect match; they were both cold and withdrawn. Katrina and Malcolm were different, though. They wanted more. I knew if I wanted something like I’d never had before, I was going to have to do something I’d never done. It wouldn’t be easy, though, to convince her that I was the nigga for her - not the way Christoff had her spoiled.

  “We got married when I was nineteen,” she continued. “Two years later, he was gone.”

  “How?”

  “A brain tumor.”

  When I felt she needed comforting, I took her hand in mine. The moment was perfect, and I could have made my move - but something stopped me. It was respect. I didn’t want to take advantage of her; she deserved better than that. If somebody was going to decide to take things a step further, I thought it should be her - and I was shocked when she actually did.

  Kitty ran her hand up the back of my neck, then behind my head, then she slowly pulled me closer to her. Her lips felt like butter melting into mine; she had the softest mouth I’d ever had the pleasure of kissing. I leaned back and braced my body weight on the arm of the couch, pulling her back with me. She then climbed on and straddled my body. My dick was rock hard; her kiss was hypnotizing, and it didn’t take her long to pull me in. She was so passionate and emotional, two things that make a woman an incredible lover. There was so much heat between the two of us, I thought we were going to explode.

  “Uhmmmmmm...” she moaned like a virgin when I finally pushed my dick inside her, “...go slow.” Her moans encased her request like two heavy, supportive bookends.

  I was prepared to fuck her any way she wanted me to; if she liked it slow, then Boss was going to give it to her nice and slow - but as soon as she wanted more, I was going to give it to her like a Boss Bitch. She could handle it; she was already doing a damn good job.

  Kitty began to roll her hips quicker and more deliberately. Soon, she was bouncing up and down on my dick like a professional porn star. I had never been fucked so good in my life. Girls were okay, but this grown woman pussy was the shit. If I’d known this all along, I would have been fucking older women way back in the day.

  The dick was just as good to her; I could tell by the look of ecstasy on her face. We were both good on our own - but together we were like fireworks: we lit up the entire sky.

  That morning, Kitty and I drank two entire bottles of Cristal. When that was gone, we moved on to something greener; she even made smoking weed look sexy. I had to fuck her again. That time, we took the party upstairs and went at it in my big comfortable-ass bed. She put me to sleep like a baby. When I woke up later on that morning, she was gone. For a moment, I thought I was trippin’ and had just imagined the entire thing; it seemed too damn good to be true. Women like that didn’t fall for niggas like me; it just didn’t happen.

  But then I saw them: lying on top of my snow white satin sheets, I found her sexy little red lace panties - and knew I wasn’t trippin’. She was really there.

  A nigga was grinning from ear to ear.

  Chapter 14

  For the next three months, I pursued Kitty hard – but she had one excuse after another. Her life was complicated, and I understood that, but she could have squeezed a nigga in somewhere. I knew she had a business to run that swallowed up most of her time. What I didn’t realize, though, was that she also had a full life outside of the bar. She went to the gym faithfully every single morning of the week, come rain or shine. The bar closed at 2 a.m., and she usually didn’t get out until somewhere around three. Regardless, her gym schedule was always the same: in by 5 a.m., out by 7. Once she showered and made her way back to her condo, she only had time to fit in three hours of sleep, four if she was lucky. After that, she was in her home-office, running the small publishing business Christoff started before he died. The only day she really had to herself was Sunday, and she shared that day with the Lord: she went to church, read her bible, then spent an hour or two meditating at home. I could want her with everything I had inside of me, but if she didn’t have time for a nigga, then all I could do was let her be.

  Friday night rolled around, and I needed something or someone to take my mind off Kitty. I was used to doing my own thing anyway. Life goes on, and if nobody else was there for me, my cousin Pee-Wee was. He called and let me know about a new spot that had just opened up in our old hood; that was all I needed to hear. Somebody told me a long time ago that the best way to get over one broad is to get under another one, and it was time to put that theory to the test.

  The Two One was a small lounge on the corner of 21st Street where people from the neighborhood went to unwind on the weekends. The vibe was laid back at first - but once me and my nigga Pee-Wee showed up, every gold digger in the place had their antennas up. They were wasting their time, though; Pee-Wee lived by the same rules I did: we didn’t pay for water, and we didn’t pay for pussy. We were just there to peep out the new place and see what was up with the old hood. I still had a few workers posted up around the way, but I rarely came through myself.

  “Hey, Boss.” J
ayla seemed to appear out of nowhere. “How you been?”

  “I’m good.” I opened my arms and welcomed her inside. “How you been?”

  I could tell instantly that something was wrong. When she hugged me, she clung to my chest for a while. It was times like that when I missed Marco the most. My cousin had his flaws, but he took care of his girl. She never walked around looking that lost when he was here.

  “Boss, can I talk to you for a minute?” She looked up at me with desperation in her big light brown eyes. “It’s kinda private.”

  I threw Pee-Wee a nod towards the door; that was his signal to follow me outside. I led Jayla out to my ESV, and she didn’t hesitate to climb in. I walked around to the driver’s side while my lieutenant stood outside and watched my back.

  “What’s up?” I gave Jayla my undivided attention. “What’s got you actin’ so ‘noid?”

  “I had an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?” I picked up the already rolled blunt I’d left in my ashtray earlier, knowing that I’d need to be high to get through this conversation.

  “I ran into this white dude’s Mercedes, and I ain’t got no insurance. He say if I don’t pay him fifty grand by next Friday, he’s goin’ to the police.” She cracked the tinted window a bit to let in some fresh air. “You know I got a record; I can’t go to jail,” she whined. “Boss, I’ll do anything.” She reached over and put her hand on my dick.

  “Come on now.” I quickly pushed her hand away. “What you doin’?”

  “You do somethin’ for me, and I’ll do somethin’ for you.”

  Before I knew it, she had my dick out and was deep throating it the same way she used to do my cousin’s. I felt a little guilty at first, but the weed helped ease my conscience. If the shoe was on the other foot, Marco would have done the same thing – but that nigga was dead, and there was no sense in wasting some head that good.

  After Jayla took me where I needed to go, I agreed to take care of her little problem for her; I would have done it anyway, but she did give me an extra incentive. The next morning, I called the white dude - whose name was Kevin Ark - and scheduled a meeting with him for later that day. First I had a few runs to make, though. The bank's parking lot was busier than it usually was that time of day, and I was about to say “Fuck it” and back out of my parking space – but then I spotted her.

  “Long time no see,” I shouted in Kitty’s direction as I got out of my truck and began to walk towards her Aston Martin.

  “Hi.” She smiled and almost made me forget how upset I was with her sexy little ass. “How are you?”

  “How am I? That’s all the fuck you gotta say to me?" I was pissed - but I was also trying hard to cover up how happy I was to see her; she looked good, real fucking good.

  She reached inside her coupe and got her jacket. The wind was whipping the shit out of her hair, but she didn’t seem to mind; she just moved it from one side to the other while putting on the brick-colored leather jacket over her beige sleeveless blouse. Her body looked amazing in the matching brick-colored leather skirt.

  “A nigga can’t win for losin’,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air in a metaphoric surrender. “You fuck a broad and don’t call her, you a dog; you call her, and this how you get treated.”

  “Boss, you’re young, handsome, and could probably have any woman you want.”

  “Obviously not - or I’d have you,” I told her, softening my demeanor just a little. “You judgin’ me and ain’t even givin’ me a chance to show you what I'm really about.”

  “Alright.” She gave in quicker than I thought she would. “Pick me up at the bar in an hour.”

  I smiled all the way back to my truck. Sixty minutes was more than enough time to handle my business and get back to Kitty’s bar. As bad as I wanted to be with her again, I would have moved mountains to make it happen. She could try and sneak all the tests by me she wanted to - I was planning on passing them all.

  Chapter 15

  The Hilton Hotel was only five minutes away from my bank. It was also an open public place with lots of witnesses. I knew this white dude was crooked; unlike Jayla, I knew a scam when I heard one. There was no way his punk ass was taking me for fifty grand. I was only making an appearance to let him see that the mother of my cousin’s children had people looking out for her - people you didn’t want on your bad side.

  “Mr. Ark.” I approached the small, pathetic little man as soon as I entered the lobby. “Let’s get down to business. I don’t have much time.”

  When he stood up and attempted to shake my hand, I thought he had to be joking. We weren’t there for lunch; this muthafucka crossed a line, and somebody had to push him back. Since my cousin was dead and gone, that somebody would have to be me.

  “So do you enjoy strong armin’ all women - or is it just Black women?” I asked him point blank as I sat down in the plush brown leather chair pointed diagonally towards his. “You got a li’l dick, don’t you, Kevin?”

  “I don’t need this shit.” He jumped up out of his seat like his ass was on fire - but I grabbed his arm so hard, his skin began to turn red. If he thought he could just walk away from me, he was mistaken. Bullies can dish that shit out, but they’re rarely able to take it. He didn’t have a choice this time.

  “Sit the fuck down ‘fore I lay yo bitch ass down.” My tone was just as firm as the grip I had on that coward’s arm. “I don’t give a fuck about all these people up in here. I’ll put a bullet in yo skull and be out the door ‘fore any of ‘em even notice.”

  He did as he was instructed and sat his ass back down. Once I was sure he knew what type of nigga he was dealing with, I let go of his scrawny little arm. I would kill for my fam. His life didn’t mean a damn thing to me; ending it wouldn’t have caused me to lose one wink of sleep.

  “I don’t ever wanna see you again. I don’t want anybody I know to see you again. And if I find out you’ve done somethin’ stupid like callin’ the cops, I’ll find you - and I'll kill you,” I promised him, meaning every single word I spoke. “If I hear that you so much as waved to Jayla, I’ll kill you, yo wife Nancy, yo daughters Kelly and Blair, and yo ugly ass li’l dog Pepper.” I laid it all out and let him know that I’d done my homework. “You’re outta yo league, boy. Now get the fuck outta my face.”

  He ran out of there like his life depended on it. Why weak niggas try to be hard baffled the shit out of me. Kevin Ark wasn’t an intimidating man. I would estimate his height at around five-foot-nine and his weight at barely one hundred and thirty pounds; I knew chicks bigger than that. I wasn’t impressed, nor was I the least bit frightened.

  I left the hotel and headed straight towards Kitty’s bar. When I got there, she was in the back going over some paperwork that would still be there the next day. She was about to get real busy real fast - me and my dick were going to make sure of that.

  As soon as I walked through the door, she put her pen down – and our eyes locked. There wasn’t a doubt about it: I wanted her, and she wanted me. I stood there and watched her as she began to unbutton her blouse, going from button to button until there were no more left. Her breasts were magnificent. I couldn’t hold back any longer; I rushed to her and lifted her body out of the chair and on to the desk. The journey inside of her was thrilling. She made me feel like a new man. It was better than any drug. I would have done anything to make that feeling last for life, but it wasn’t meant to be; some people only come into your life for a season – and they’re usually the ones who make the biggest impact.

  Chapter 16

  We spent that entire night in Kitty’s office. The next morning, she told me the real reason she’d pulled away from me: she was sick. For the last four and a half years, she’d been battling breast cancer. It didn’t look good. I understood then why she didn’t tell me. Before I knew the truth, all I wanted to do was have sex with her; once I found out, I felt like I couldn’t even touch her. It wasn’t that I didn’t find her attractive anymore; she
would always be the sexiest thing I ever laid eyes on. I just couldn’t bring myself to cause her any more discomfort. She took one look at me and sensed the change – and just like that, it was over. Kitty wanted nothing else to do with me.

  Nine months later, she was dead.

  Kitty’s funeral was like a glass of ice water in the face: it woke me up. I reminded myself how short life could be. Not even a year before, I was drinking Cristal with the beautiful woman now lying completely still in a casket. I felt like a punk for walking away from her. Somebody should have been with her. Somebody should have been holding her hand. I sat in that church and thought long and hard about my life. I wasn’t the man I wanted to be; I was nowhere close.

  I was fucked up for a long ass time. Days came and went without me talking to another human being; I didn’t feel like frontin’. Life had dealt me a fucked up hand, but I never once felt sorry for myself; instead, I dealt with blow after blow like the ghetto trained niggas to do. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even fall to my knees and ask God why. I just accepted the shit and kept going. All the people I lost along the way became nightmares that I pretended not to remember in the morning.