Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do 4

by Shvonne Latrice

  How the fuck did Belly’s ass go around checking random niggas over Blaise constantly like the shit was nothing? It felt awkward as hell, and maybe because in the past, I’d never had a female I cared about enough to be doing all of this.

  “Uh…” Sly’s eyes bounced around for a moment. “Yes. Why?”

  “Because umm, that’s my girl.” I palmed my chest as we stared one another in the eyes.

  “I’m pretty sure she ain’t yo’ girl.”

  His laughter and the shake of his head pissed me off.

  “Yeah, nigga, she is. We had something serious going on before yo’ ass popped the fuck up and barged yo’ way in.”

  “It couldn’t have been too serious if I was able to barge in, now could it?”

  “Look, nigga, I’m asking you nicely to just leave her alone so she and I can be back together. It’s what she wants. She told me the last time we spent the night together.”

  Sly’s grin faded, which made me happy as hell. I knew Belly said not to bring that shit up, but seeing this nigga smile all hard had pissed me off.

  “Spent the night together?”

  “Yep. So why don’t you just exit the relationship so she and I can get back to our regularly scheduled program.”

  “Nah, why don’t you grow the fuck up. If she was really yours and it was all like that, she would’ve never entertained me. And nigga, she ain’t ever mentioned you. Why the fuck would Priscilla be interested in a muthafucka who pays for pussy?” He sucked his teeth, looked me up and down, and then walked off.

  If this weren’t a job, and a well-paying one, I would’ve hit his ass. However, my reputation had already taken a hit, and the last thing I needed was more shit being piled on top of it. Unfortunately, in the entertainment business, your personality and shit that popped off in your personal life could ruin your work life.

  I took Sly’s advice and left the shit alone. If I wanted Priscilla back, pressing this nigga wasn’t gon’ do it. I had to be more aggressive with her ass as suggested by Belly.

  Sly and I acted like nothing happened by the time Kel returned from the bathroom for a snack. I paid his ass no mind as he showed Kel the clothes, and he paid me no mind as we finished out the photo shoot.

  I let Kel know about when I’d have the edited shots back, then his assistant gave me the other half of my fee before I bounced.

  The whole way home, I was trying to think of some shit that would convince Priscilla to be back with my ass. My therapist was saying to let her come home to me naturally if it was meant, but like Belly mentioned, that was some movie shit. I wanted Priscilla, badly, and I wasn’t about to wait for her ass to marry Sly and have his fucking baby. Times like these, I hated that I couldn’t make her ass return. She was annoying the fuck out of me.

  As soon as I got home, my phone started ringing, and I looked down to see it was Dionne. Crazy enough, as I picked my head up, I noticed Katie’s car was parked a little ways down, and she’d texted me. Every woman I didn’t want was ready and willing.

  I did spot a text from Priscilla, making me ignore Dionne’s call to go look.

  Priscilla: You’re such a disgusting, jealous, liar.

  I couldn’t even reply because I had no energy. I loved this girl, and it seemed like I kept fucking up. Before I could even put my iPhone away, Dionne was calling again.

  “Yes, Dionne?”

  “Hey, can I come over so we can talk?” she asked just as Katie climbed out of her car.

  “Nah, not tonight. I had a long day, and I just want some time to myself.”

  “What happened? You can vent to me. Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean we can’t be good friends.”

  “I know. I’m not ready to talk yet though. I just want to clear my mind alone. Maybe we can talk another night. You okay though?” I chuckled at Katie flailing her arms and waving for me to come on.

  “Not really. I thought I’d be okay with our breakup, but I’m not. I keep thinking about you being with other women.”

  “Well I’m not. I’ve just been working.”

  I shook my head. If only Dionne knew. Shit, I wish I had a woman occupying my time; well, one specifically.

  “Okay. Well text me soon or call me. I don’t care which one.”

  “For sure.”

  I hung up then climbed out of the car, eyes on Katie in those tights. Her body was insane, but she was too wild for my taste. I liked a calmer woman to take serious.

  “Hey, boo.” She cocked her head, pulling me closer as I reached around her to unlock my door.

  “Damn.” I laughed as she pulled me in with her as if this was her spot. “Wait, Katie, shit.”

  She began unbuckling my jeans with the quickness, before dropping down to her knees and taking my dick into her mouth. I was gon’ stop her, but it felt too good. Plus, I had no real reason to pull her off.

  That dick sucking session led to us fucking in the back bedroom. And after I let off a good load into the condom, I went to flush it then came back to get in the bed.

  “I knew your dick was good, but now I know the head is too.” Katie giggled.

  “I know what I’m doing, that’s why.”

  “I see that. Hey, Priscilla from my dance class told me you still mess with Dionne, your ex. I don’t mind, because I have a man; he’s in the Air Force overseas, but I just don’t want her crazy ass popping up.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should respond to her having a man first or the fact that she thought Dionne was gon’ show up on us.

  “Uh, Dionne is not that type of woman. And why you ain’t tell me you had a man?” I looked down at her since she was lying on my chest.

  “Because he’s overseas. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have one.” She was quiet then continued. “When he returns in about eight months, I want you to act like you don’t know me.”

  We both laughed.

  “No problem at all. I got someone I love too.”

  “Not me, right?” She sat up a little bit.

  “What? Woman, hell nah!” I let my frown fade then added, “But when I get her back, no more popping up or anything.”

  “We got a deal.” She put her hand up, so I shook it before we both sniggered.

  My doorbell sounded off, and something deep down told me it was Priscilla. If it was, then it was obvious that the good Lord himself was trying to prevent us from being together.

  “Stay right here.” I hopped up, slipped on some boxers, and left the bedroom. Walking to the door, I peered through the hole and spotted Dionne. “Hey, what’s up?” I peeked out.

  “Hey. I brought you some pie. I baked it for you.” She lifted it. It smelled pretty good.

  “Thanks.” I took it then placed it on the table next to the door. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

  “I drove all the way here, and I can’t come in?”

  “Dionne, I told you I wanted to be alone.”

  “Right. I’m sorry. I should stop being pushy.” She tousled her hair. “Can I just pee? I drank a whole bottle of water on the way over here, and won’t make it home.”

  “Uh, my bathroom is broken.”

  Dionne stared at me for a moment then started laughing hysterically.

  “Oh my gosh, how could I be so stupid?” She grabbed onto her hair with both hands, exhaling. “You have a bitch in there.”

  “Nah—”

  “Yeah. That’s why you didn’t want me to come over, and that’s why your damn bathroom is broken! No one’s whole damn bathroom is just broken, you stupid ass!” she hollered. “But it’s okay.” She backed away slowly, before turning around and running.

  I closed the door and went to the kitchen to get a glass of juice when I heard the alarm to my Lamborghini sound off. It was accompanied by a loud crash, making me drop my cup to the floor and dart out of the house in my underwear.

  “Aye! Aye, what the fuck!” I shouted like a fucking maniac as Dionne took a bat to my beautiful ass expensive whip.

  I jumped a
nd hollered as she burst the windows out and put dent after dent in the car.

  “Back up!” She swung the bat at me with a velocity of a professional boxer. If it hit me, I would’ve been out cold.

  Throwing my hands up in mock surrender, I said, “Dionne, please, please stop.”

  Just as I said that, Katie came from the house and ran off to her car, glancing over her shoulder periodically.

  “You liar!” Dionne yelled, bringing the bat down onto my headlights. “Don’t you ever talk to me or call me again!” She growled, bashing my car with each word.

  I ran back in the house to call the police, and by the time I’d done so, Dionne’s ass had bounced.

  I just wanted to know how the fuck Belly’s ass was able to juggle six bitches and never have his shit fucked up. Clearly, the harem life was not for a nigga like me. From now on, it was Priscilla or nothing!

  Blaise

  Romelo and I caressed one another, while moaning softly and kissing lightly. This was the fifth time we’d done this scene, and I was so over ‘fucking him’. And I hated that whenever the director yelled cut, he’d be smiling like the damn joker.

  During the last ten seconds of the scene, Romelo sucked my bottom lip into his mouth while groping my thighs, and I wanted to slap the shit out of him.

  “Cut! That was perfect, Rome!” The director smiled, clapping his big ass hands. His applauding always hurt my eardrums.

  “Move.” I nudged Romelo as I sat up and then stepped off the bed to slip into the robe one of the PAs had brought to me.

  Chuckling, Romelo got out of the bed, licking his lips as he eyed me.

  “Don’t be mad, Blaise. This is the closest I can get to really fucking you.”

  He said that same shit after every sex scene.

  “You’re disgusting.” I turned to wave the intimacy coordinator, Michelle, over to me since she’d stepped off to get coffee once the scene was done. Michelle was always around during sex scenes to make sure there was no funny shit going on.

  “Hey, Blaise. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, but can you guys please find a way to keep him from getting an erection during the scenes? These nude panties are thin, and I can feel his hard penis.”

  “Of course. We’ve worked with Romelo on that.” She gave him a look.

  Shrugging, he replied, “I’m usually good with other actresses, but I think it’s because Blaise and I became more than friends at one point. I will work on it though.”

  “You do that, or we will have a problem on our hands,” Michelle assured him, making Romelo nod before walking off the set.

  The producer of the show wanted to add a few more episodes to the season, so we came back to film them. It pissed me off because I was supposed to be free from filming Streets so that I could do the Rich Girl movie I’d been casted in. Now I was swamped with work, having appetite issues, while trying to be a good mother and plan a wedding. Some days I prayed for the time to stop so I could just recharge my mind and relax.

  My manager was no help either, always pushing me to take role after role. She swore that if I took too long of a break, people would forget me. She explained that when white actresses took a break, people called it just that—a break. But when black actresses took a break, people would assume she fell off or couldn’t get roles. I hated that, but I knew it was true.

  I started off of the set area that was designed to look like the bedroom Romelo and I shared on the show, and the PA who always worked with me, Greer, caught up to me, fixing her headset.

  “Hey, I have some water for you. You sure you didn’t want me to order you some food?”

  “No, but thanks, Greer.” I opened the water to gulp some down as we pressed on to my trailer.

  “Are sex scenes weird? I hope you don’t mind me asking. I could never be an actress, because I am too afraid of having awkward sexual encounters with men I don’t know well.”

  Laughing, I replied, “It’s nothing like that. There are usually about thirty people in the room watching, so it’s not intimate at all. And by the sixth time you film that same sex scene, nothing about it is sexy.”

  Greer nodded, re-braiding her red hair as I walked up into my trailer.

  “Makes sense! Well, see you in a few months when we come back for season three!”

  “Alright.”

  We hugged, and then I closed my trailer door so I could change. By the time I was in some more comfortable clothing and ready to go, I heard my phone chime. The sound corresponded with Instagram, letting me know I had a direct message.

  Scooping my iPhone up as I threw my purse over my shoulder, I saw I had another message from Tiana. That bitch had been harassing me ever since I ran into her at the spa. She sent some sonogram claiming she was pregnant by Belly, and I guess that was supposed to shake the table that was my life and make me leave my man.

  MrsStrauss: I know you’re seeing my messages. You must be pissed your man got me pregnant. It’s funny you try to act unbothered on Instagram.

  Finally deciding to reply, I unlocked my phone and went straight to the conversation thread.

  Me: I have nothing to say. If you’re pregnant by Belly, then I’m the Queen of England. Just know if I see you, I am going to beat your ass on sight. I won’t say a word. I’m just going to fuck you up.

  Satisfied, I locked my phone and left the studio. Her stupid ass didn’t reply, but it said she’d seen it.

  I meant every word I’d said too. As soon as I saw Tiana, I didn’t care if we were in church, I was fucking her up. I tried to let the bitch slide because, deep down, I do believe someone raped her; it just wasn’t Belly. She, too, knew it wasn’t him and still insisted on harassing me and wasn’t willing to let the right people know that it wasn’t him. So because of all that, I was knocking her fucking neck loose as soon as I laid eyes on her.

  Straight from the studio, I went to the doctor so I could see what the next step was in improving my appetite.

  At my last workout session, I could barely make it through due to the fact that I was still barely eating. Belly had been leaving early in the morning to go run six miles with his trainer, so he wasn’t there to eat breakfast with me. By saying that, I made another appointment with my doctor as she had instructed me to if my problem worsened or didn’t get better.

  “Blaise, you can come on.” A nurse appeared, waving me to the back.

  I followed her, and she led me to a room where I waited about ten minutes before my doctor walked in.

  “Hi, honey. You look great.” Dr. Jordin smiled before looking through my files.

  “Thanks. I don’t feel great.”

  “So what’s the update? You eating more?”

  “Kind of, but only when I eat with my fiancé. He has to literally feed me the food. We share our meals, and it’s just so embarrassing. I don’t even like going out to dinner with him or my friends anymore. And my body feels weak, which isn’t good, because I have a new baby at home that I have to pump for.”

  “Exactly. I understand. So what we need to do is get you on some pills that will increase your appetite. Now only take these for three weeks. By that time, your appetite should come back on its own. This is normal after having a baby, but I also think in your case, it’s lasting a bit longer because of your career and the pressure to return to your size.”

  “No, no, I wanna eat.” I all of a sudden felt skittish.

  “I know, sweetheart. But you explained to me that your manager and the producers on the movie you’re in want you to look how you did before pregnancy. You may not intentionally be skipping meals, but it can be done subconsciously. As your doctor, I am ordering you to eat. Use these pills, but after you get off them, eat whatever you like for at least a week. I don’t care if it’s a whole chocolate cake, do you understand?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay.” She smiled then said, “Your fiancé feeds you, huh? He must really love you. I know it’s shameful, but that’s sweet.”

 
“It is, huh?” I simpered, eyes on my nails.

  Dr. Jordin wrote down where I could get the pills and then let me go. She made sure to schedule for me to return in a few weeks, and I admit I was afraid.

  The thought of eating whatever I wanted for a week sounded like a disaster. I was still six pounds over the weight I was before I got pregnant with my son, and I wasn’t as toned in certain areas yet due to me not being able to perform with my trainer as well. This was just stressful.

  My mama agreed to bring my babies to me, so I went home to get a nap in before she came.

  About an hour later…

  I felt a pair of hands on my body and some warm kisses on my neck. I knew this was Belly; I could smell his body wash, so I knew he was fresh from the shower.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” He turned me onto my back and started to tug on my tights.

  “No, Cortez. I don’t want to.”

  Looking up from kissing my stomach, he frowned.

  “Why?”

  “I just don’t want to. I’m not in the mood, and I don’t feel sexy. I don’t feel comfortable having sex.”

  “With me?” He sounded offended. “You don’t feel comfortable fucking me of all people?” His brows dipped between his sexy brown eyes.

  “It’s not you, I just…” I sat up and sighed. “I’m not in the mood, and I don’t want to. That should be enough explanation.” I got up and went to the bathroom within our room, not giving him a chance to respond.

  Coming out, I checked my phone and saw my mother was on her way, so I took a quick shower then covered myself in lotion. Once in a short nightgown, I went downstairs to find Belly.

  He was in the den playing a video game, looking so handsome, with no shirt on and just some gray sweats and socks. Slowly, I moved toward the couch he was on and sat at the far end. For a moment, I admired his sexy side profile, his deep mahogany skin, and freshly lined facial hair and fade. The tattoos embedded in his deep complexion were so sexy, even the one reading No Good.

  “Come here.” He kept his eyes on the video game.

  Hesitantly, I moved closer to him. I assumed he was angry with me, so his command caught me off guard. Playing for a few more seconds, he paused it then turned to kiss me gently a few times, making my body become warm.