“What do you mean?” I got in the bed with him after closing the door.
He stared off for a second and replied, “If this injury takes me out of boxing for good, I won’t be shit. I won’t be the nigga you met.”
“First of all, this won’t take you out for good.”
“How the fuck you know?”
“Because I know. I’ve seen you fight, and you’re not easy to take down. Secondly, I love you, Cortez. Whether you’re an undefeated boxer or the janitor at a boxing gym, you’ll always be that nigga. And I will love you and want to be with you no matter what.”
He intertwined our fingers, and after staring at them for a moment, he brought my hand to his lips.
“You all I got, Blaise, you know that?”
“What about boxing and—”
“I love boxing, that’s my life, but at the end of the day, it’s yo’ ass. Some shit boxing can’t make better for me, but you can. Like right now. I love you. I fuck with you. And because of that shit, I’ll never fuck you over again. I’m pissed I have before, but at least now I know what’s it like to lose you, and I don’t like the shit.”
“I love you too, baby.” I cupped his face to kiss him. “I’m happy we figured this out, because I never wanted to leave you. Even when you were being an ain’t shit nigga, I still wanted you for some reason.”
We both chuckled softly. He was so fine, even laid up in the hospital bed.
“I always wanted you; I just liked a few snacks in between.”
I rolled my eyes at him and said, “You know niggas are praising you on the Internet for having me, Maia, and Megyn pregnant at the same time.”
He tittered.
“Except Megyn’s ass is a fucking lie. You mad?”
“No, just irritated.” I couldn’t help but smile as we looked at one another. I hated how he made me feel all giddy.
“I’ll have their asses in line soon as I get all this other shit together.”
He started caressing my thigh, so I pushed his gown up. He had boxers on from when he was trying to dress, so I pulled his dick through the slit. I listened to him moan as I took it into my mouth, sucking slowly and building up my saliva. I let my tongue toy with the head, and once my mouth was drenched, I began sucking faster, feeling Belly grip my hair in his big hand.
“Mm,” I moaned, giving it a little bit of vibration as I let his head tap the back of my throat.
“Fuck, Blaise,” he grunted, guiding my head at this point.
I allowed him to take control, while still using my tongue to tease the head of his dick whenever I came up.
“Mr. Khal—”
“Get yo’ ass out!” he barked at the nurse as I kept going. “Blaise, baby, I fucking love yo’ nasty ass.” He panted, staring down at me as I went to work.
In no time, he was releasing, tightening his hold on my hair as his head fell back. I lifted his gown some to peck his impeccable abs as he breathed heavily.
“You love me?” I inquired.
“I do.”
Once we both pulled ourselves together, I made his ass tell me everything he remembered about the day he got shot.
The next morning…
I arrived on the set of my show Streets, wanting to talk to the producer. My manager and I decided that it was best I be honest about my pregnancy, despite me keeping it a secret from the world. Even after I posted that picture of myself with a flat sucked in stomach, people still didn’t believe me and claimed it was an old picture. However, I wasn’t admitting shit until I had to.
“Good morning, Blaise. You look beautiful.” Dasha welcomed me into her office, hugging me.
“Thanks so much.”
“Welcome. Have a seat, honey. Did you want some coffee? Tea?”
“Actually, chamomile tea would be nice; thank you.”
Dasha nodded to her assistant Kim, and she pranced out to go make my tea. I took a few deep breaths because I wasn’t sure of what Dasha’s reaction would be.
Booking this show had been a dream come true and was my first major acting gig. The thought of me being replaced on the show devastated me, and I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to handle such a loss. Belly swore that they wouldn’t fire me, but he was just saying that to make me feel better. I appreciated it, but I knew how this industry worked.
“So, what did you want to talk about? Everything has been fine, right? I haven’t been on set some days, but I’ve seen the playbacks, and you’re doing wonderful. I think the writers want to make Crissi permanent.”
I chuckled with her, just as I accepted the teacup from Kim.
“Wow, that’s great. I umm, wanted to talk to you because I have a little problem. Well, it’s not a problem, it’s just… I’m pregnant, Dasha.” I spit it out because I didn’t know how to say it any other way.
“Oh.” She sat back in her chair.
“I know this is bad, and I’m sorry.” I began to tear up. “I told myself I wouldn’t get pregnant ever again, and if I did, it wouldn’t be until my career was off the ground. But…” I took the tissue she handed me to dab my eyes. “…I—”
“Fell in love?” She smiled, catching me off guard since I thought she’d be furious.
“Yeah, and after that, things just kind of happened. You do a lot without thinking. I’m keeping the baby, and I was thinking maybe my character could get pregnant or something to make it work. I really don’t want to lose this role.”
“No, Crissi isn’t getting pregnant anytime soon, Blaise.”
“Oh. Well, okay.” I drank some of the tea to calm my stomach. “Then I guess… I don’t know. You guys will find someone else? I’m going to start showing a lot more, and most of my character’s clothes are crop tops and tight outfits.”
“No, we won’t find anyone else. It’s called filming you at the right angles and using computer tricks for when we need to show your full body or sex scenes.”
“Computer tricks?”
“Yep.” She laughed at my astonishment. “Edit your belly right out when we need to, so don’t worry.” She nodded, looking off like she was thinking. “Do you think you can work until you’re about nine months? By that time, this season’s filming will be done, you can have the baby, recoup, and be good to go for season three.”
“Yes, of course! I can do that, I promise!”
I knew I would have to keep up with my exercise because there was no way I could blow up like I had with Island and be on TV.
“Great. Well is that all?”
“It is.”
“Okay. Congratulations on the baby, by the way. It’s with Cortez Khalil, right?”
“Yes.” I giggled shyly. “We tried to be low-key, but people are nosy detectives, so we finally came out not too long ago.”
“I knew well before that. He terrorized two of my production assistants to come see you.”
“Sorry.”
We both chortled.
“He also sends you roses a lot, so I’m not sure if he’s a lunatic or romantic.”
“He’s a mixture.” I chuckled, and she joined me.
“Yes, I’m figuring that out.” She got up, so I did the same before we hugged.
“Thank you for not firing me and working around this. I know it’s inconvenient for you all.”
“Blaise, I’ve been a producer for almost twenty-five years; this is not the first pregnancy I’ve had to work around. Imagine having a pregnant actor without the same technology we have today; very stressful. So this with you is nothing. Plus, you were the best for this role, and no one on the crew can see anyone else as Crissi.”
Dasha walked me out, talking to me about the next few days of work and anything else I needed to know.
By the time I left the studio, I was feeling really good. I went to pick my baby up from my mom, and when I got to my condo, Gary let me know some things came for me. Since it was a huge bouquet of roses and two shopping bags, one from Fendi and another from Dior, I asked him to help me up with it.
/> “Island, let’s see what this is.” I sat my baby on the floor with me and then pulled the card from the roses.
Because I love you and I fuck with you. - Yo’ nigga.
I chuckled at the message on the small white card, then opened the gifts. In the bottom of the Dior bag, after taking out what Belly had bought me, I saw a Gucci box. Opening it, I realized it was some Gucci mules for Island.
“Look, baby!” I kissed her cheek and removed her sandals to try them on her. They fit perfectly, and I couldn’t believe Belly had remembered her size. I couldn’t tell you how many times Five-Star called me to get her sizes when buying her things.
After putting up my new Fendi and Dior things, plus Island’s shoes, I made us dinner. I put some extra in a container for Belly, then Island and I left to go see him in the hospital.
Belly
One week later…
“Remember to take it easy, Mr. Khalil.” The doctor stared me down as I slipped my hoodie over my head.
“Yep,” was all I said as I snatched my bag up and started out.
The side of my body that I’d gotten shot in was still tight from the stitches and was painful as fuck, but I needed to get back to it. I planned to still fight Mason’s ass as scheduled and refused to let that incident he caused take me out.
The nigga was doing everything in his power to keep from fighting me, and the shit was hilarious. It just showed how well he knew that I was gon’ fuck his big ass up and snatch that title from him. And once I got that shit, I would keep it until I willingly gave it up via retirement.
Mason and every other nigga who thought they could hinder me in this shit would learn I was a thoroughbred hood nigga first, and a boxer second. By saying that, a few bullets wasn’t gon’ do shit but piss me off and make me go even harder in that damn ring. I planned to fuck Mason up originally, but now since the nigga wanted to play dirty with his pussy ass, I would make sure he left that stadium on a stretcher.
Will agreed to pick me up since Blaise was busy working, and I didn’t feel like being bothered with Manny’s deadbeat ass. As soon as I stepped out front, Will climbed out of his Mercedes to dap me up.
“Nigga, I can put my own bag up. Get yo’ ass back in the car,” I told him when he reached to take my shit as if I were a bitch.
“Aight, nigga. Fuck around and mess some shit up.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender before making his way back to the driver’s side.
After throwing my duffel into the back seat, I slid into the front passenger. Will pulled off, and it was quiet for a little bit as he headed toward the freeway.
“So that shit is true, huh?” I glanced at him, but he refused to look my way as he sighed heavily.
“It ain’t like what the shit said.”
“I mean, every nigga don’ fucked hoes before; I know I have. I just ain’t never paid for the shit. All this free pussy, and you’re blowing racks on it?”
“It’s hard to explain, Belly. It ain’t just about pussy. I’m turned on by females who… work.”
“Don’t ever in yo’ fucking life tell me what yo’ ass is turned on by again.” We both laughed, even though I was serious as fuck. “Drop me off at the crib so I can change. I have to handle some shit.” I checked my watch.
“Ain’t you supposed to rest for a couple weeks?”
“Yeah, but you know I’m not. I’m used to dealing with bullet wounds. I’ll be aight.”
“I’m sure Strauss is happy you got shot, but little does he know.”
“Right. But that nigga knows it’s still a loss for him.”
Will just nodded in agreement as he sped down the freeway. Once I was at my crib, I showered and changed. Shit took forever for me to put on some damn jeans and a Polo.
I needed a haircut, so instead, I threw on a hat to cover it up, before my watch and bracelet. After putting on a little cologne, I snatched my car keys and bounced.
It was a little after 5 p.m., and I knew Megyn was having some event for her eyelash company, so I was gon’ show up.
She thought that miscarriage shit was cool and I wasn’t fucking with it. I usually paid no attention to the lies these hoes told to the media, because if the shit was a lie, I didn’t see the point in stressing over bullshit.
However, this shit right here pissed me the fuck off because I didn’t like muthafuckas trashing my reputation or coming at my girl and trying to make her feel some type of way. Shit, I’d suffered e-fucking-nough trying to get Blaise back, and I’d be damned if Megyn’s fuck ass shenanigans had people convincing Blaise that she shouldn’t fuck with me.
I got to the event about thirty minutes after I left, since it was over in Hollywood. There wasn’t too much traffic since it was early afternoon; too late for the morning shift muthafuckas to be driving, and too early for them to be driving home. I parked a little ways in the back and started toward the front where I saw a bunch of niggas drinking champagne and shit.
“Hi, Belly.” Some bitch with curly blonde hair waved to me as she and her friends stared me down.
The old me would’ve had a nasty threesome popping off after this shit, but I was a different nigga now. I was a different muthafucka for Blaise Cansino, though, nobody else.
I ignored them and continued through, until my eyes landed on Megyn. She was smiling and talking, but when she peeped me, it faded. I just stood there, feeling hoes’ eyes on me, as Megyn started over.
“I didn’t expect you to… come. Did you want some champagne or something? I’m so happy to see you, baby, and I’m sorry for what I said,” she whispered the last part.
“When I met yo’ ass, I told you the only thing I wanted to do was fuck you. I’ve never wanted you for shit else but some pussy and to suck me up, but somehow, you got shit twisted. I would never in life make you my bitch, let alone fuck you raw and nut in you, so kill the pregnant shit off. I’d stick my raw dick in the mouth of an alligator before I slide up in you with no cap.”
Megyn’s eyes darted around my face, and it was obvious she was embarrassed as fuck since I didn’t lower my voice in the slightest.
“Cortez, don’t—”
“Now what I want you to do is get yo’ ass on that microphone and let all these people know that you were just something to stick my dick in when Blaise wasn’t fucking with me. And baby, the pussy ain’t good enough for you to be acting out like this.” I shook my head to add emphasis. “Ya fucking throat is way better.”
I wasn’t bullshitting either. Megyn was around here acting like she had some gold between her legs. These females needed to learn that the quality of their pussy determined how ignorant they could act. So bitches like Megyn with 8/10 pussy ratings needed to fucking behave, because a nigga was two seconds from running her ass over like roadkill and sending her muthafuckin’ ass up a river somewhere.
“I don’t want you like that either!” She sobbed, making it overly obvious that her ass was lying.
She wanted to play these fuck ass games for the public; well I was gon’ play some too.
“I couldn’t tell between you blowing my phone up, stalking me, and letting me nut all over ya face.” I turned to the nigga holding the microphone nearby, snatched it, and handed it to her, before leaning over to whisper in her ear, “Say what the fuck I told you to, or I swear to God I’ll break into yo’ condo, chloroform you, and toss yo’ stupid ass off the rooftop.” I fixed one of her hair strands that had gotten pushed back, then waited for her to do as she was told.
“Hey, everyone.” She cleared her throat into the microphone. “I just wanted to say… really quickly that the whole thing with me miscarrying and such was a umm… there was a misunderstanding. That didn’t happen.” She shoved the microphone into the chest of the nigga who’d originally had it, then darted to the back as I left.
It didn’t take long for the shit to end up on the blogs, which I knew would happen. I figured some nosy muthafucka would be in that bitch recording everything.
Satisfied, I took
my ass home to change into some gym clothes, then let my trainer know to meet me at the boxing gym. He hit me back, questioning me, but I told his ass to just show the fuck up or he’d have to find another muthafucka to train.
On the way there, I got a text from Blaise.
Wife: I miss you so much. I’m off now and I wanna see you, wherever you are… please?
Me: I miss you too. I’m headed to the gym I train at. Come.
Wife: Ok
By the time I got to the gym, I saw Blaise pulling into the lot, so I got my shit out and waited. She had Island with her, which made me smile widely as fuck.
“Sup.” I bit my lip, eying Blaise and making her blush. I leaned down to kiss her lips as I grabbed a handful of her ass.
“Hi.” She simpered.
“How you doing, beautiful?” I took Island as we started walking toward the entrance.
“Belly!” Island shouted with a smile as I kissed her.
I made sure Blaise and Island were comfortable nearby where I’d be training so I could watch them closely while doing so.
While I worked out, the gym was to be empty, so I didn’t have to worry about other muthafuckas getting sweat on or accidentally bumping into me. That was a quick way for a nigga to get his fucking block knocked off. Plus, now that I was getting famous and shit, other niggas acted like groupies or always had their damn hands out, and I ain’t need that shit while training.
“You know I’m not supposed to work you out until I get clearance from your doctor, Khalil.” Victor sighed.
“I don’t give a fuck. I already told Carson not to cancel shit and that the fight with Mason’s bitch ass is still on.”
“I know you feel okay, but I just don’t—”
“Either you do the shit or I can get a new nigga to do it. Either way, I’m getting trained, and I’m fighting Mason.”
Victor nodded and then pointed in the direction of the gym that he wanted to start in.
In the middle of Victor kicking my ass with some intervals, a nigga in a faded ass blue suit approached.
Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do 3 Page 3