“Work and opportunities. On a school trip in high school, we came to Atlanta. From then on, I knew I would be living here.”
“Understandable. So . . . are you dating anyone?” She regretted getting more personal when the words left her mouth, but she was curious.
“No, haven’t met anyone I’m ready to get a headache over besides one woman.”
“And what’s the problem there?”
“Well, she’s unhappily married and getting her ass whupped. I’m just waiting for that to be over, so I can give her better.” He walked out of the nail salon, as if he hadn’t said a word. Meagan ran after him.
“Look, Angelo,” Meagan said, walking by him and getting in the limo with paper slippers on her feet and what looked like a sponge wedged between her bright pink toes. “I’m flattered that you would be interested in me, but it would never work.”
“You don’t know if it would work or not,” he said as he stood by her door. “You’re shooting me down because you think you know my net worth. This ‘driving you around’ shit has you thinking that way. I don’t blame you. But don’t size up my pockets. You don’t know why I’m driving this limo.”
“I don’t know why, but what I do know is that you were willing to cross my husband to keep this job. If it’s not for income, why do you need it so badly?”
Angelo closed the limo door once she was settled in the backseat. “How do I get closer to you without it?” he said once he was behind the wheel.
Meagan cracked a smile as Angelo pulled into traffic, and he fought back the urge to throw up. He was laying the shit on so heavy that it had turned his stomach. He wanted to fuck her, especially after learning he would be paid to, but that “sweet nothings” shit was more than he could swallow. He had watched his father wither away to nothing from being weak over a woman, and he had vowed never to do the same. Although he was doing it only as part of his plan to get the green from William, the fact that it was a reality to her made him sick over it.
“I get it now . . . You want to fuck me, don’t you? You’ve seen me get down with those younger men in the backseat, and you see how much older William is than me, so you want a shot to show me what I’ve been missing.”
“No, sweetheart. It’s way more than that,” he said, pulling over on the busy street. “But if that’s where you want this to start, I can come join you in the backseat.”
Meagan dug in her purse and retrieved a joint. She lit it and then hit it a few times to slow down the thoughts zooming through her mind. Then she passed it up to him. After he took a few puffs, she asked, “You want to get a hotel room?”
“Hell nah. I’m no better than the rest of those thirsty-ass niggas. You can give me the hotel money. I want you back there.” He passed her back the joint and then stepped out of the limo to get in the backseat.
“If we do this, you have to stay silent,” she said while inhaling her smoke version of Viagra. It gave her the “Fuck it” attitude she needed to fuck him, and anyone else, for that matter. She’d give him what he wanted so she could get the information she wanted from him.
“That silent shit worked on those little boys. You’re dealing with a grown-ass man.”
He sat on the seat across from her and rested his head on the opened partition. He pulled out his meat and held it while looking at her. She tried to play it cool as she passed him back the joint, but the mouth portion of the Zig-Zag wrap was wet, letting him know her mouth wanted to taste him. He hit it and then put the roach in the built-in ashtray.
“How long are you going to sit over there and stare at it? You don’t have to play the good girl role with me. You know exactly what to do with this dick.”
Like a vulture, she soared down to his lap and put her mouth to work. He couldn’t believe how talented she was, even with all the practice he knew she was getting. Her mouth felt like virgin pussy, but the wetness of it felt like a pro’s. From the day he first saw her, he had wanted to rub on her round brown ass, and now that he could, he wouldn’t let her slacks stop him from doing it.
“Take them pants off.”
She attempted to do what he had asked while keeping him in her mouth, but she couldn’t maneuver like she used to. She fell back into her seat and slid off the slacks. Angelo made his way to her. He slid his hands under her butt and spread her bottom lips with his thumbs.
“You got a pretty pussy, Ms. Meagan,” he said before planting a kiss on her opening.
“Thank you,” she moaned.
“Nah, bitch. Thank you.”
He spanked her hardened clit with his tongue and softly pulled on it with his full lips. Pussy had been his favorite meal from the time he had had his first taste, and he knew exactly what to do to keep the stream of cum flowing. Hands down, Meagan was getting the best head she’d experienced in her life. Although Devin could make her cum quickly, Angelo sent her into a full orgasm in less than two minutes. Unlike Devin’s long, drawn-out head, Angelo had gotten up after giving her only one explosion. He turned her body around by the grasp he had on her until she was lined up lengthwise with the seat. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his pants to his ankles.
“I have a condom in my purse,” she told him.
“Fuck that condom. I ain’t had no pussy in over two years. I’m clean, and you stay at the clinic, getting that pussy checked out. We’re going to enjoying this shit,” he said. When he got no objection from her, his three-pound meat entered her womb. On impact, she creamed on him, and once he saw the milky substance covering his shaft, he had to look away to keep himself from ending this session prematurely.
“God damn, Angelo.”
“You got me feeling the same way, beautiful.” He tried to keep himself from drooling on her, but a small amount of his saliva hit her shoulder. “You got me drooling and shit.”
“I’m cumming already . . . ,” she yelled just as someone knocked on the front passenger window.
They were behind limo tint, so they could see the young black policeman flashing his light into the limo to try to see in, but he couldn’t see them. They could dress and cover up their act, but what about the weed scent? He pulled his pants up and then reached through the partition, grabbed the air freshener, sprayed it for what seemed like an entire minute. Once they were both dressed, Angelo opened the back door.
“How can we help you, Officer?”
Chapter Nine
It took Devin a week to catch up with J. Seed for a face-to-face. He was on his way to College Park from downtown to meet him, but the police had a limo pulled over and were blocking traffic.
“Just stay there. I’m on my way,” he said into his cell phone.
“I’m not going anywhere. What’s up, though, Diablo?” J. Seed replied.
“I’ll tell you when I pull up. Are you at your baby mama’s spot?”
“Nah, I’m, um . . . I had to make a quick stop, but I’m on my way there now.”
“Okay . . . What the fuck? Let me hit you right back.” Devin hung up the phone as he watched Meagan and her limousine driver exit the back of the limo. He was a little over three hundred feet away from them, with traffic preventing him from moving closer, so he pulled into a gas station, parked, and ran across the street to them.
“What’s going on, Meagan?” Devin asked. With daggers in his eyes, he glanced over at Angelo.
“Sir, I need you to stand over there,” the officer said, pointing at a tree nearby.
“I’m not going anywhere until I know my girl is straight,” Devin insisted.
Meagan shot her eyes up at the officer, because less than a minute ago, she had said she was on her way to pick up her husband, and Angelo chuckled.
“What the fuck are you laughing at, bitch?” Devin barked at Angelo.
“You clown,” Angelo muttered.
“I’ll show your ass a clown, faggot,” Devin said as he charged at Angelo, but the officer intervened.
“Here are your driver’s licenses back. Next time you decide to hav
e a business pow-wow, make sure you pull over and park first. Y’all are free to go.”
“Yes, sir,” Angelo said, smiling, with his eyes still locked on Devin. “Let’s go, Mrs. Tolliver—”
“Nah, playboy. I’m taking her home,” Devin interrupted.
Angelo eyed him. “Oh, so you’re taking her home? That’s fine with me, but I don’t think her husband would appreciate her getting out of a bucket with a no-name-having rap artist.”
“Fuck you and her husband.” Devin charged toward Angelo again, but this time Meagan stepped in between them.
“Angelo, I’m riding with Devin. I’m sure you have other business you could be handling, like finding out who’s living in that condo. Let’s go.”
“Yeah, go run those errands, errand boy,” Devin taunted childishly, but after getting a sample of Meagan’s goodness, Angelo felt like the victor, so he let Devin enjoy the moment.
“I’ll get up with you later, Meagan, so we can finish that conversation we started.” Angelo gave Meagan a wink, jumped in the limo, and drove off so the police officer could do the same.
Mad didn’t describe the way Devin felt. He was young, but he knew shade when it was being thrown at him. He didn’t confront Meagan about it until they were in his mother’s car on the interstate.
“What was that wink about?”
“What wink?” Meagan asked.
“Don’t play stupid. You saw that nigga wink at you. What business were y’all in the backseat discussing in the middle of traffic, anyway?” His hands were locked at ten and two on the steering wheel, like he was taking the driver’s exam.
“Just stuff about my husband.”
“He can’t drive and talk at the same time?”
“He could have, but I asked him to stop. And tell me, Is that a problem?”
“Hell yeah, that’s a problem when you don’t know if that nigga can be trusted. After listening to his ass try to stunt like he was the man, I got a bad vibe about the nigga. You can’t fire him without your husband’s permission?”
“If I wanted to, I could,” Meagan said, slightly irritated.
“Then you need to fire little buddy.”
“Why? Because you lost the word fight you started by jumping into business that didn’t concern you? What were you doing? Following me?” She was trying to flip it on Devin, but it didn’t work.
“However you want to put it, Ma, but that nigga needs to stay from around you. Next time I catch him smiling and grinning in your face, I’m shipping him back to Dougherty County, DOA.”
“Dougherty County? What does Dougherty County have to do with anything?”
“Isn’t that where the nigga’s limousine company is at? That’s what the license plate says.”
Meagan had never walked behind the limousine and noticed what the plate said. She knew Angelo was from Blakely, Georgia, which was in Early County, because she had asked that earlier. His limousine being registered in Dougherty County, which was where Albany was, didn’t mean a thing. She had rented cars in New York that had California plates, and when they’d moved to Atlanta from Albany, the U-Haul they’d rented had Arizona plates. Devin didn’t have a clue about what he was talking about, but that was a rare coincidence, she had to admit.
Rush hour made the normal ride from downtown feel like they were doing a round trip, and the silence made it feel even longer.
“I have to go to the studio after I drop you off, but when I’m done, can I come get in bed with you tonight?” he asked, preparing himself for rejection.
“That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“So, because I told you I don’t want you around that ho-ass nigga, I’m not welcome back at your house?”
“Oh my God!” she screamed out in frustration. “He doesn’t have shit to do with you staying the night. I’m married. Did you forget that?”
Devin had temporarily forgotten that she was married. They were spending more time together than they had previously done, and the all-day phone calls and texting had him spoiled.
“Well, when do I get to wake up with you again?” he asked, turning up the road that led to her subdivision.
“I don’t know, but I’ll let you know when you can.”
“I get my signing bonus tonight. You think you can take me car shopping tomorrow? And I’ve been thinking of getting my own spot. Now that I got my own money, my mama’s house feels overcrowded to me.”
As they turned left onto her street, a car went speeding past them through the stop sign, almost colliding into them. Devin hit the brakes and then his horn.
“That was a stop sign, ho,” he yelled as the driver of the newer-model Nissan swerved and drove past them. “These people who live out here think rules don’t apply to them.”
“Is that what you think about me too?”
“Nah. You make the rules, baby.”
He turned into her driveway, and they both instantly noticed that the glass window on the right side of her front door had been busted out and her door was wide open. Devin parked and pulled his gun from under his seat.
“Wait right here while I go check it out. Keep the car running,” he ordered before he got out of the car.
Meagan didn’t argue with him, because she was too scared to. The house alarm hadn’t gone off, or the security alarm company would have called her by now. Her heart raced as she watched him enter the house slowly. He walked back into the doorway three minutes later and waved for her to come in.
“I don’t know what’s missing, but that office down the hallway is fucked up,” he reported when she reached the front door.
Meagan went there first, and the room was in disarray. The computer had been knocked onto the floor, and all the drawers of the computer desk were lying upside down on the floor. The pictures William had hung up of all his restaurant locations had the glass busted out of them, and his bookshelves had been broken in multiple pieces, which were now resting on top of the books they had previously housed. She pulled out her phone and called the police. Next, she called William, who promised to get there as soon as the car allowed him to. Then, disgusted, she turned to face Devin.
“We’ve never been robbed—until I let you and those hoodlums from College Park into my house. Get the fuck out!”
“Hold on, Ma. You can’t put this on my boys.”
“Oh, I can’t? Then stay here until the police come, and let’s see who they put it on.”
“You’re tripping. How about checking to see what’s missing first? Because right now it looks like vandalism to me.”
“And who would vandalize my house?”
“I don’t know, but it wasn’t my people.”
“On the morning of my birthday, I told myself I was done playing these high school games with you. First, you shoot at my husband, and now this.”
Police sirens blared in the distance.
“I told you I didn’t have shit to do with your husband getting shot at. I—”
“Like hell you didn’t, little boy,” she said, cutting him off. The sirens were louder now.
Devin had never seen this side of Meagan, and he didn’t know what to expect. With the police probably less than a minute away, he felt that it was best that he left while he still had his freedom. “Let the police do their investigation. I’ll be waiting on my apology when you find out the truth.”
He kissed her on her cheek before she could dodge his lips and then ran out the door. J. Seed didn’t know it, but the friendly conversation Devin had planned to have with him had just escalated to a “no conversation necessary” brawl. This robbery with unnecessary vandalism had J. Seed’s signature written all over it. He wished he had stayed around to find out what was taken, but it wouldn’t matter, anyway. If he knew his boy like he was sure he did, the stolen items were long gone and replaced with cash by now.
Twenty minutes later Devin pulled up at J. Seed’s baby mama’s house. There was a rental car parked in the yard, with bags from brand-name stores
covering the backseat. Walking along the side of the house to enter through the back door, he passed an empty sixty-two-inch television box. It was sitting next to a trash can that couldn’t close, because of the Blu-ray DVD player box that was perched on top of the trash bags. When he turned the corner, he could smell the high-grade weed seeping from the house and see his nephews riding on new bikes around the backyard.
“Jason Jr., is your daddy in there?” Devin called.
J. Seed’s oldest son peddled faster to reach his uncle Devin, but he didn’t know how to brake yet on his bike. The boy would have run Devin over if he hadn’t grabbed the handlebars to stop the boy.
“Yes, he’s in there, Uncle Devin. Look, we got new bikes and new shoes,” the eight-year-old old boy said, showing off his retro Jordans. “Daddy said Christmas came early this year.”
“I bet it did,” was all he managed to say without taking his anger out on the child. He walked through the back door, which led into the kitchen. Pizza boxes covered the countertops, as if they were having a party. The television had been mounted to the wall in the living room and connected to a stereo system. The exact same stereo system Meagan had in her entertainment room. Devin hadn’t fully checked her house to see what was missing, and since there weren’t any boxes by the trash that he could tell the system had been removed from, he was sure it had belonged to Meagan.
He eyed the living room again, checking for familiar items from Meagan’s house, but the music playing in the back bedroom had snatched his attention. It was his voice coming through the speakers. It was his love ballad playing, the one he had written for Meagan. Anger allowed him to float down the hallway and turn the knob, but the bedroom door that protected J. Seed from Devin’s rage was locked. He retraced his steps to the kitchen, grabbed a butter knife, and popped the cheap lock on the bedroom door. The sun hadn’t set yet, but candles were lit all over the room, and the lack of windows made the candlelight bounce off the blackened walls. He couldn’t make out his boy’s body clearly, because his baby mama was sitting on his face, with another woman straddling his lap.
For the first time since he had sped off from the crime scene back at Meagan’s house, he had a change of heart. Until he saw J. Seed’s Jordans next to the bed. They matched the ones his son was wearing. With fury blazing through him, Devin snatched the cowgirl off her mount, slung her to the floor, and then grabbed J. Seed by his ankles and pulled until his feet met the floor. Before he could open his mouth to ask Devin what was going on, Devin cocked back and hit him. Reacting purely from reflex, J. Seed gave him a three-hit combo with an uppercut Devin fell on his ass just a few inches shy of having his homeboy’s birth-given bat and balls in his face. Devin could smell the fresh cum on him from the cowgirl he had thrown off him.
Disrespectfully Yours Page 13