Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do 2

by Shvonne Latrice

  As soon as we got into the room, she was giggling and smiling with her pretty ass, so I took a seat on the couch. She stood there, twiddling her thumbs nervously, so I waved for her to come closer. When she did, I gestured for her to get onto her knees, and she complied. I didn’t have to say shit else as she reached to unbuckle my jeans.

  “I usually don’t do this when I just meet someone. I swear.”

  “I believe you.”

  She couldn’t be too much of a hoe because I would have heard the shit out there with the homies. Bitches always did shit out of character for them when they liked a nigga, so I believed baby girl. However, I just wanted my dick sucked and didn’t care for conversation.

  Smiling, she got comfortable and took my dick into her mouth once it was all the way released. Gripping her bun, I controlled her speed, making sure the head of my shit hit the back of her throat. She took it like a champ, twirling her tongue around my shit.

  “Look at me,” I instructed, and she did so.

  She kept bobbing on my shit, and her saliva production was crazy as a muthafucka. Before I knew it, I was nutting all in her mouth, and she licked and slurped up every drop. Sitting back, she gave me a smile.

  Once I put my dick up, she straddled my lap.

  “I guess you liked it.”

  “It was aight.” I chuckled when she hit my arm. “I might be able to fuck with you, but know I got a girl, and whatever the fuck we do ain’t serious. If I want you, I’ll hit you, and if I don’t, don’t even think about sweating me, aight?”

  “I already know how you get down.” She toyed with the collar of my shirt.

  My phone started ringing in my pocket, and I saw it was Blaise, so I pushed Megyn from my lap.

  “Baby, you good—”

  “I got the gifts from Chanel. Don’t send me shit else, Cortez. Next time, send them to the bitch in your lap at the club.”

  “Blai—”

  Click.

  Fuck! I should’ve known someone would have taken fucking pictures and sent them to one of them nosy ass blogs.

  Nichole Carriage

  Almost one week later…

  I climbed out of Ian’s big ass shower and wrapped a warm towel around my body after patting my skin dry. I loved this damn house, and I loved the nigga that owned it.

  Ian played for the Los Angeles Chargers and was balling out of control. Not to mention he was handsome, and his dick game was good enough. I came 90 percent of the time, but I wasn’t fantasizing or yearning for the dick twenty-four-seven. He had enough money to compensate for the other 10 percent.

  I met Ian at a party one night, and the next day, he was in my inbox on Instagram wanting to take me out. That was nothing new for me at all. Plenty of men in all fields, from ball players to rappers and producers, stayed trying to get with me. But if that status wasn’t up to par and that bread wasn’t flourishing, I wasn’t responding or wasting my time. Call it what you want, but Nichole didn’t fuck for free.

  Ian was the longest relationship I’d ever had with a celebrity man, because we were going on eight months now. Usually after a good ninety days, me and these niggas would end up parting ways. It was stressful as hell dealing with a man who was famous and trying to make him be a normal boyfriend. Women were always willing to do whatever for his attention, which always caused friction in relationships.

  I loved Ian, but until I had a ring on my finger, I was going to continue to do me. I didn’t cheat all the time; actually, I didn’t cheat at all except for the few times I’d fucked this photographer named Will. But that was just for some pictures I didn’t want to pay for and that Ian refused to foot the bill on. I had more than enough cash to pay Will, but why do that when I knew I could finesse his ass? Anyway, I still talked to other niggas on the side, but I wasn’t giving pussy up.

  After I spread lotion on my body, I left the bathroom because my phone was ringing. I saw it was my homegirl Helen, so I answered.

  “Hey, we’re still on, right?”

  “Yes. You know I don’t flake.”

  “Unless Ian wants you to do something.”

  “Whatever. I don’t chase behind any nigga.”

  “I know. I know. Well, see you in a little bit. I’m curling my hair, so I’ll be headed to the restaurant soon.”

  “Okay.”

  Helen and I went way back. She, Mindy, Blaise, and I used to be thick as thieves, going out, traveling, and doing every damn thing together. We especially would have a good time when one of us had an extra rich baller willing to blow racks, because he’d extend his generosity to our friends. Blaise was always the one bagging super famous and rich ones, starting with Five-Star.

  The four of us stopped being as close, mainly with Blaise and I being on one end and Helen and Mindy on the other. It happened once Blaise got pregnant with Island, because she wasn’t down with doing some of the shit Mindy and Helen wanted to do. We all stayed cordial but just didn’t rock together as closely. I stuck by Blaise because I knew by being her friend, I could get close to the right niggas. Hell, she was Five-Star’s baby mama, and that came with fame.

  Now, she and I didn’t talk at all after she hit me, but now that I’d heard she and Belly were no more, I was going to reach out to her. A part of me wanted to be friends because Blaise was well connected, but the other part wanted her back because I missed her. I had my own fame now, so I didn’t need hers or anyone else’s like that, but I did miss her.

  I brushed my teeth then slipped into a dress and some Givenchy slippers. Once I had on my jewelry and my weave cascading down my back, I was out of the door. I smiled as I hit the alarm to unlock my new Porsche Ian had just given me.

  I met Helen at this cute French restaurant on La Brea, and after parking my car, I slipped out, feeling as good as I looked. A few niggas called after me, but I ignored them. At the moment, no nigga in my view was bringing in more bread than Ian. For me to leave my man, he’d have to be fine, paid, and have hella game; someone like Belly. Even though Ian made more than him, it was something about Belly that had me wanting him and badly.

  “Bitch, you are body goals!” Helen greeted me.

  She too had gotten her body done a while back like me. All four of us got work done while we were still friends, since Mindy knew this bomb ass doctor in Miami. Blaise only got her breasts enlarged since her body was naturally shapely. Helen and I got the works, and Mindy just got her ass enhanced.

  “I try to be.” I hugged her before we sat down.

  “See, you were smart with your shit. You work out to keep your body work bomb. I haven’t done shit since I got off that surgery table.”

  “There is still time. Hit me up when you want to work out. You look good though.”

  “Will do, and thank you, girl.” The waitress came over to take our wine orders, so we gave them to her along with an order for appetizers. “You know I almost beat your little bestie’s ass.” Helen raised her brow at me once the waiter left.

  “Wait, who is my bestie?”

  “Blaise Cansino, bitch. You know who I’m talking about.”

  “Wait, y’all are still cool, so how did this even happen?” I was perplexed. Yes, we didn’t hang as tightly, but everybody was still okay with one another.

  “At Mindy’s baby shower that you flaked on. She got mad because I told her about her nigga; Belly. She actually thought she was his girl, when this nigga has a whole group of females. I told her I knew bitches that were fucking him while she was thinking he was her nigga. Just because she’s the first one he posted on his Instagram story don’t mean he took her seriously.”

  We both laughed together as the waiter set down our glasses of wine. We ordered our main courses then sent her on her way.

  “Well, I told her ass at the start that he had a couple girls he kept close and that she would be an addition. Typical Blaise thought she was special though.”

  “I know, right. But she posted that she was single on her story but later deleted it, so it
looks like it’s a wrap.”

  “Poor thing.” I poked my bottom lip out, playing sad. I was filled with glee knowing Belly had dumped her.

  “She’ll be fine; niggas love Blaise.”

  “True.” I was irritated just thinking about it. I mean, niggas loved me too, but for some reason, they only wanted to fuck me for a few months. Blaise would somehow be turning these niggas into long-term boyfriends or a baby daddy in Five-Star’s case. Belly ended her winning streak though. I chuckled at the thought.

  “Speaking of his group of bitches, did you see his new one?” Helen pulled me from my thoughts.

  “New one? When?” My heart rate sped up. I’d been trying to be on this nigga’s team since before he even met Blaise, so hearing he had some new bitch pissed me off.

  “Yep. That bitch Megyn.” Helen showed me some pictures of her in Belly’s lap, smiling. She appeared to be dancing on him. “Blogs posted it earlier this week. I’m trying to be down too, sis.” Helen cackled.

  “I’ve been so busy I haven’t seen anything.” I stared at the photos. Megyn was a beautiful girl, no doubt. I definitely knew who she was, because she used to be at a lot of the parties and functions we went to, and she was on that same bag-a-baller tip we were on. She had a somewhat successful lash company going, and now she had my man; well, a portion of him. I was for sure hating.

  I didn’t want Helen to know how angry I felt inside, but damn was it hard. I just didn’t get why this nigga was turning me down. I was pretty as hell, and I knew my pussy was fire, so I was beyond confused.

  A few days later…

  There was this boxing event where a few boxers would be in the building taking pictures, speaking, and signing autographs. I got word that Belly would be here, so of course I bought a ticket and showed up.

  Entering after being stamped, I scanned the room and finally spotted Belly with some teenaged boys, taking pictures and signing some boxing gloves.

  Just as I was about to walk over, I saw Megyn seated off to the side, smiling hard as she watched. I quickly took a picture and just observed for a little longer as I shoved my iPhone into my Louis bag. I stared as he sat back down, and Megyn stood to walk up to him. She leaned down to kiss his lips, but he moved coolly, making it clear she wasn’t allowed to, as he texted away on his phone. Like it was nothing, she took a seat in his lap, draped her arm around his shoulders, and then kissed his temple, content. Rolling my eyes, I took another photo then left out to head to Blaise’s place.

  I arrived at her condo building about forty-five minutes later because traffic in Los Angeles was fucking ridiculous. It was the one thing that made me contemplate moving to some po-dunk town with a population of fifty.

  Once in the lobby, I dialed her up.

  “Yes?” she answered.

  “Hey, are you home? I wanted to know if I could come up and talk to you.”

  “About what, Nichole?”

  “Please, Blaise!”

  She was quiet and then replied, “I’m parking my car now. I should be walking in, in a few.”

  “Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

  Blaise hung up, so I locked my phone and waited for about five or six minutes until she appeared, carrying a sleeping Island. We didn’t exchange words as I followed her through the glass door and onto the elevator. Once we got into her condo, I waited for her to lie Island down in bed before she returned to the living room.

  “What do you have to say?” She removed her Fendi stilettos.

  “Well first, I wanted to apologize for delivering the information I had the way that I did. I should have done it privately and presented proof. I also should have told you earlier.”

  She sat back after taking her ponytail down, so her long dark wavy hair was framing her pretty brown face.

  “You should have. I’m angry with you still, but I want to apologize for punching you. I thought you were lying because I do know you like or liked Belly at one point, so I assumed you were jealous.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m not mad about it.” It was quiet before I added, “I’m sorry he hurt you, Blaise.”

  She looked off like she was thinking, and when she moved her hair behind her ears, I got hit with her sweet-smelling Dior perfume. She’d been wearing it for years, so it was her signature.

  “I’m not hurt. I’m fine.” She stood up. “It’s been a long day for me, so I’m gonna have a bath and then go to bed. Island and I just came from having an early dinner together, so I got the itis.”

  “That’s so cute that you guys go out for dinner together.” I smiled, but she didn’t return the gesture.

  “Did you want some water or something before you leave?”

  “Umm, yeah, actually, thanks.”

  She left the big ass living room and went to her kitchen to fetch my bottle. As I waited, her buzzing phone caught my attention. When I saw Belly had called five times and now had sent a text, I leaned over some more so I could read it. Thankfully, her previews were on.

  Belly: You think you just gon’ never talk to me again, Blaise? You got shit twisted. Answer the fucking phone.

  Then another…

  Belly: These other females are just some bitches I’m busting down until you fuck with me. When you do, I’m gon’ be faithful to you, I promise.

  Another…

  Belly: Baby.

  I couldn’t believe she had him speaking this way. I felt like raging because of all the feelings brewing inside of me.

  Belly: No other female don’ ever had me bugging like this. I love yo’ ass.

  I tapped the last message because I wanted to reply for her, but it prompted me to type in her code or scan my face.

  “Here.” Blaise returned, so I played it cool.

  “Thanks.” I rose up. “Oh, before I go, do you remember her?” I unlocked my phone to show her the photo I took of Megyn in Belly’s lap.

  “What Belly does or who he does isn’t any of my concern, Nichole.” She opened her front door after looking at the picture. “Even you can fuck him if you’d like. I know you’ve been having a hard time getting him, but maybe now you can slide in.”

  “Blaise, no I don’t—”

  “Goodnight.”

  I left out, and as I tread down the hallway, feeling bummed because it still seemed like Blaise and I wouldn’t be cool, I started to feel lightheaded. Before I knew it, I’d blacked out.

  A couple hours later…

  I woke up to see I was in a hospital bed, so I began to panic. The nurse outside my room behind the desk saw me trying to get up, so she picked up the phone to call someone. Quickly as hell it seemed, another nurse appeared and walked into the room with me, closing the door.

  “Hi, Miss Carriage. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. What the fuck is going on?” I wouldn’t dare tell her my head was pounding. I was scared as hell, wondering what exactly the fuck was going on with me. “Is this some kind of cult? How did I get here? I just… what—”

  “Relax, Miss Carriage. You fainted at your friend’s home, and she called 911 to have you brought to the hospital.”

  For a moment, I just stared the chubby faced white woman down, with my eyes wide. I had never been so confused in my life.

  “Okay, well I need to go. And where are my things?”

  “Your belongings are right here. You can’t leave tonight; it’s not recommended. But tomorrow, if everything is okay, which it should be, then you’ll be free to go.”

  My phone started ringing, so I pointed to my purse. The nurse went into it to grab my device, and when she handed it to me, I saw it was Ian calling me.

  “I have a flight in the morning, so I can’t stay. My boyfriend has to go to New York, and I’m going as well.”

  Inhaling then exhaling, the nurse asked, “Miss Carriage, are you aware that you’re pregnant?”

  This had to be a joke. And to make matters worse, I didn’t know if it belonged to Ian or Will.

  Alivia

  Yono: How
about tonight beautiful?

  I stared down at the text from Yono, asking me to go to dinner. I didn’t want to shut him down nor tell him I could only be seen in the daytime and a very small portion of the evening. Yono was one of the biggest R&B singers out, so I knew once I told him no, he’d move on to the next bitch. Surprisingly though, he’d been patient with me, not pressuring me to see him or attend uncomfortable events like Manny had. So our courting had been enjoyable until now.

  Me: Okay, where should we meet?

  Yono: I’ll send a car to pick you up. Just shoot me your address.

  Fuck! I couldn’t have him send anything to my parents’ house, so right now, I was stuck. I had to think and think quickly.

  I decided I would call Blaise and get some advice. She was used to men like Yono, and I wasn’t, so I needed all the help I could get.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hi. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even text you first to see if it was okay to call you. I hope you’re not busy.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m getting my hair done now before I go on set. What’s up?”

  “Okay, so Yono, you know, the singer, he wants to take me out, and I offered to meet him, but he wants to have me picked up.”

  “What’s wrong with that? You like to drive or something?”

  See, I knew me refusing to be picked up would come off odd, so I had to think of a reason that didn’t make me sound like I was underage.

  “No, nothing is wrong with that, I just umm… he and I just met, and I’m not comfortable with him knowing where I live.”

  “Oh, okay. Well tell him you’re staying at a hotel while your home gets renovated so he can send the car there.”

  “I should have been able to think of that on my own. I’m sorry for bothering you, Blaise.”

  Chuckling, she replied, “You’re fine. I hope you have fun.”

  “Wait, before you go, I admit I’ve never been on a date with a famous man before. Are they different than regular guys? Should I know anything?”