Without a reply, she reached up to touch the side of my face before crashing her soft ass lips against mine.
Willem “Will” Dade
One week later… a little after 8 p.m.…
“These are really nice; good angles too.” Belly’s manager Carson looked over the photos I’d taken from his last fight. “He’s gonna love them.”
“He does. I sent the digital files to him earlier, and also to his website designer.” I nodded.
“Nice.” Carson looked up from the photos. “You know Cortez is getting a lot more exposure now. He’s been working hard, and every time I look up, his offers for fights are increasing. He’s got a lot of opportunities lined up and—”
“Carson, what you trying to say?”
“That we’re gonna be doing a lot of work, and you’re going to need to be there to capture it all. I know you still shoot other people, but you may not have the time, if you want to keep this job.”
“Nah, I know. But Belly is a priority, so his shit will always come first. And when I can’t hold down his shit and others, I’ll let them go.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Carson shook my hand before grabbing his jacket to put on.
As he left, I filed my pictures for the next hour and then sat down for a second to think.
Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and drank some straight from the bottle. I needed to take my ass directly home to where my girl was, but the urge to do what I usually did was taking over. Feeling too weak to overpower it, I took one more swig then put the cap back on the bottle, slipping it into my bag.
After gathering all of my shit, I locked my studio up then hopped into my BMW, speeding off. I pulled up to my destination about forty-five minutes later since it was a little ways out but drove past to park around the corner. After changing gears, I grabbed my hoodie from the back seat to slip on and cover up a bit.
Ever since Belly had started gaining notoriety, his camp had too, including them ContraBandz niggas, Manny, and myself. I’d always known niggas in the industry, but I never had normal people actually recognize me on the streets until Belly.
I hit the corner and made my way down the sidewalk, until I reached a nice ass family sized house on the corner. The neighborhood, Woodland Hills, was upscale as fuck where niggas with a nice amount of change lived.
“Welcome back, Mr. Dade,” this woman named Geena answered the door, stepping back to let me in. “I thought you weren’t coming back.” She gave me that knowing smile, the same one she always gave whenever I told her ass this was the last time, or whenever I’d show up after having said so.
“This one will be.”
She simply nodded and then led me to the large den area where there were a fleet of bitches, some in lingerie, and others in small ass shorts and tops.
“Take your pick.” Geena took a seat in her usual recliner, before putting a glass to her lips.
I scanned the room, and my eyes landed on this one girl I always chose, Swan, so I waved for her to come to me. She was light skinned with long blonde curls, and an okay body, nothing close to Dionne’s, my girl. But Dionne was a dancer and had been in shape since the day I met her.
“Missed you.” Swan winked up at me before slipping her hand into mine and then taking me up the stairs to one of the bedrooms.
I’d been fucking with prostitutes for about a year now, and the shit was just like a damn drug habit. I had a beautiful ass girlfriend at home, but for some reason, I’d rather fuck a hoe than her. And no, I wasn’t just a sex addict, because regular bitches didn’t turn me on, only actual working girls. I never cheated on Dionne with the females that hit on me at clubs, or after Belly’s matches… only the women that worked here at this brothel and others across the globe.
It had nothing to do with Dionne’s and my sex life either, because she definitely pleased me. I just liked what I liked and that was prostitutes.
I tried it out once after Dionne pissed me off, forcing me to go for a drive one night. And after that one hit, I was hooked. It started with once a month, then twice a month to now four and five times a week.
I’d tried to stop many times, but if I even went forty-eight hours without smashing one, I would find myself angry as hell and just irritated for no reason. I would think about it all day, and end up coming through like tonight.
Hookers just did something for me, and I couldn’t get enough. To make matters worse, I was getting way more money lately, making me want to blow more here. I’d spent at least a cool $25,000 in the past four months.
“How do you want it tonight? Rough or slow?” Swan started to undress.
“Slow.”
I began removing my clothes as well as she went to lock the door. Before I took my jeans off, I peeled away some cash for her then put the rest back up. Swan took the money and placed it in her small silk bag, before lying on her back, spreading her legs wide.
Getting onto the bed, I hovered over her and began kissing different places on her body. Once my dick was so hard I felt like I would nut without any contact with the pussy, I reached into the drawer to grab one of the many condoms in it. Tearing it open, I slid it down before diving deep inside of her.
“Ooh,” Swan cooed, nibbling on her lip as I rocked in and out of her walls.
“Fuck!” I grunted. I never lasted long with Swan, or any of the other bitches who worked here, and at the brothels across the US when I traveled with Belly.
I started going faster, clenching my teeth to hold out, and once I felt her cum, I let loose as well. My body jerked violently as I collapsed down onto her, kissing her soft lips.
Rolling off, I lied on my back to catch my breath as she removed the condom for me. She walked off to the bathroom within the room, leaving the door open so that I could see her flush the condom and then pee. After washing her hands, she came back to the room and slipped her lingerie gown and shoes back on.
“Are you satisfied?” she inquired with a bright smile.
“I am. Come lie down. I got extra for you.”
She paused but then kicked her heels back off to get on the bed with me. I stretched my arm out, so she lied on my chest, allowing me to hook it around her shoulders.
“Do you lie with all the girls after sex, or just me?”
“Just you so far. Am I the last one of the night? You were rushing out of here like you had somewhere to be.”
“It’s pretty late, but men still come through until about 3 a.m.”
“I want you to stay the night with me in here. I don’t care about the cost.” I looked down at her. “Aight?”
“You don’t have to be home?”
“Nah.”
The next morning…
I ended up fucking Swan a few more times throughout the night, and then headed home in the morning a little after 9 a.m. I meant to leave earlier, but I was able to slip out of there seemingly unnoticed.
I felt rejuvenated as fuck now that I had gotten my fix, and was hoping that my multiple rounds would keep me satiated enough to not double back tonight. I was always disgusted with myself and disappointed afterward, but then I’d be right back to it less than two days later.
“Oh shit,” I mumbled when I entered my condo to see Dionne on my couch. I’d forgotten that she told me she was gonna cook for me last night and that she wanted me to shoot for her and her co-dancers this afternoon.
“Where the hell have you been?” She squinted her eyes.
Dionne was sexy as hell with long brown hair, a body that women paid for, and she worked hard. Only complaint I had on her was that she liked the spotlight and attention too much, but I guess that came with her dreams of being a dancer. My addiction made me abhor anything that could possibly put me on front street.
“I… shit… I was out doing… catching some night shots and shit ran over… by a lot.”
“Night shots for what?”
“New gig. I got a job shooting in a dark area and I wanted to scout
some places. But let me shower right quick and then we can head to the dance studio, aight?”
“Will, I cooked a damn feast for you last night, and that’s the night you chose to go scout locations? And until 10:30 a.m. in the damn morning?”
I’d tried to change the subject, but the shit clearly hadn’t worked.
“Just slipped my mind, baby. I apologize. But I don’t want you to be late, and y’all need these pictures, right?”
“Hurry up, Will.”
She sat back and folded her arms, but I just hurried up my stairs and to the bathroom. I took a quick shower then brushed my teeth before getting dressed. Once I’d tamed my curls and sprayed on some cologne, I was ready to go.
“Let’s go, baby.” I leaned down to kiss Dionne’s lips, but she turned away from me, then strategically maneuvered her body so she could stand without touching me.
“I smelled perfume when you came in earlier.”
“How? I ain’t been around nobody with any damn perfume on.”
Dionne said nothing as she left, so I followed her out and to my car. She chose to drive herself in her own shit.
The dance studio was in Hollywood with their horrible ass parking, so after paying one of them valet niggas a grip to park, we headed inside with all my shit.
“Hey, guys, sorry I’m a little late,” Dionne announced as we entered the big dance room with mirrors all around.
Immediately, I spotted Blaise’s friend, Priscilla. I’d seen her before, dancing on TV and occasionally on Instagram. She looked good in them tights and sports bra, to the point where I caught myself staring hard. She was the first woman I found sexually attractive outside of straight up and down professional hoes.
“No worries,” The woman who I assumed was the choreographer since she was standing up front, facing Priscilla and the other female, spoke up.
“Priscilla, you already know my man, Will. But Brittany and Zyla, meet my man. Will, this is Brittany, and our choreographer, Zyla.”
“Nice to meet you, ladies.”
“He’s gonna take pictures of us all as we practice. It’s just something for my portfolio.” Dionne set her stuff down.
“Yeah, so, ladies, just do as you normally would. Don’t mind me. I will just take some natural photos,” I let them know as I began to piece my DSLR together with the right lens.
They practiced for about an hour, and I took pictures the whole time. About two hours later, it was lunch, so Dionne and Brittany agreed to pick up some food, and Zyla dessert.
“I got some good shots of you.” I showed Priscilla the viewfinder screen of my camera as I looked through them.
“That’s nice. You think I could have them, or would Dionne not like that? I never thought about building a portfolio, but it’s a good idea.”
“It is, and it shouldn’t be a problem.” It got quiet for a little bit, so I broke it. “There is a match Belly has coming up; you should for sure come. I can get you tickets.”
“Wow, umm, sure, I guess that’d be cool. Is that fine with your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, man.” I chuckled, making her do the same. “It’s just tickets to a damn boxing match. Then you can hang with us after like last time.”
“Sure, okay.”
“You know—”
“Got the goods!” Brittany burst into the room with Dionne behind her, so I canceled my next statement.
I’d get to chop it up with Priscilla more at that match.
Blaise
“Okay, day three is a wrap, everyone!” the director called out before quickly walking off. She was always on the move, and if you had a question, you had to damn near chase her down.
“You’re doing a great job.” My co-star Brenden smiled down at me as we walked off the set. He looked a lot like Boris Kodjoe.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, when they told me that the actor opposite me would be a newbie somewhat, I was a bit wary.” He walked alongside me.
“Why?”
“Because in the past, new actors were so hard to work with it. It takes forever to get a good scene because they’re either too nervous to get in character properly or too up their own asses to realize they’re not doing a good job.”
“Oh.” I chuckled. “Well I’m happy to know I’m neither of those. And I’m only a newbie to films of this caliber. I’ve done a few lower budget ones that went straight to TV.”
“Yeah, I know.” He nodded with a smile as we stepped outside where the trailers were. “Hey, so pretty soon we’ll be doing more intimate scenes where our characters become a couple. If you’d like, we can take some time out to practice together. I’m thinking just us.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for offering, Brenden.”
“Anytime.”
We gave each other quick smiles just as I walked up the steps of my trailer and pulled the door open. I spotted a big bouquet of red roses, which made me stop and leave the door swinging.
“Oh my gosh.”
I walked over to pull the card, and when I saw Belly’s initials, I couldn’t help the grin that had covered my face. I swear when you meet and associate with him, you’d have no idea he did things like this. It was nice though. He didn’t do the sweet thing a lot, because he said it was hard for him, but when he did, it always made me feel warm inside.
The roses had definitely improved my day, because all morning, he and I had been all over the gossip blogs. It was because last night Belly posted a photo on his story of my hand, palm up, resting in my lap. He intended to show that my bracelet read his name and nothing else, but of course, those Inspector Gadget ass blogs had to go the extra mile, figuring out it was me by my nail color. The picture literally only showed my wrist, hand, thighs, and one of my feet since my legs were crossed, but they figured it out. Per usual, neither of us addressed it, so in my eyes, it was all speculation.
After packing my bag back up, I grabbed my flowers and headed out to my truck so I could leave. It was a little after 6 p.m., and I was going to have dinner with Nichole and her little sister, Izzy. It was supposed to be just Izzy and me, but Nichole found out and invited herself.
Ever since I’d met Nichole, her baby sister had taken a liking to me. I wasn’t sure why, but she was always messaging me for or about something and leaving comments on my pictures.
Once I’d dropped home to shower and change, I drove to Hollywood where this restaurant named SUR was. It was an upscale place with low lighting and a very eccentric atmosphere.
“Oh my gosh. I thought you weren’t coming!” Izzy hopped up when she saw me and rushed me for a hug. Izzy was two years younger than me and three years younger than Nichole.
“Of course I was coming, girl.” I laughed, letting her go so we could sit down.
“Bitch, we been waiting like fifteen minutes.” Nichole rolled her eyes playfully. “Anyway, how has your day been?”
“I know what you’re getting at, Nichole, and it’s been alright. I’ve been ignoring that stuff they post on social media like always.”
“Well you got his hoes in a frenzy.” Nichole slurped her wine with her eyes wide.
“What you mean?” I cocked my head, looking back and forth between Nichole and Izzy.
“I sent this to you on Instagram, but I don’t think you saw it.” Izzy slid her phone over to me, since she was sitting beside me.
Looking down, I saw it was a screenshot of some Instagram comments. The picture belonged to some girl named Cadence, and someone had commented saying she was probably depressed her man had gotten a girlfriend. When Cadence asked Who is my man?, the original commenter responded with Cortez Khalil, he’s fucking Blaise Cansino now. I wasn’t tripping until I read Cadence’s reply saying, I’m not hurting. I’ll still get my time with daddy.
“Let me go to this bitch’s page.” I handed Izzy back her phone. Of course Five-Star’s harem comments invaded my mind.
“She deleted the original comment. Now it just says, ‘girl you don’t know anything’ or
something along those lines. I’m happy I follow her so I caught it.” Izzy sighed.
“She’s clearly a little upset, but that’s okay.” I chuckled, making Izzy do the same, and Nichole shrug.
After I ordered my cocktail and some appetizers for the table, I went to Cadence’s page just to check. She was a pretty girl, but clearly she was like Nichole; only had hundreds of thousands of followers because she was cute. I wasn’t going to bash that though because at one point, that was me too.
While there, I went to check the comments of that particular picture, and sure enough, that one comment was changed.
I locked my phone and decided to put that small shit to the back of my mind. I believed Belly when he said he and I were it, but I admit these women had me wondering about a few things. Like Five-Star said, they all seemed to believe they had claim on Belly.
“So, Blaise, next time you go to a match, you think I can come along?” Izzy asked.
“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Cortez is starting to make a lot more money per fight, so he’s fighting less. He said that’s how it works in the professionals. But his next one, I got you.”
“You probably won’t even like it, Isabella,” Nichole told her. “I sat front row, and I wasn’t that into it.”
“Well, we don’t like the same things anyway, Nichole. Blaise and I have more in common than you and I.” Izzy nodded just as the waitress set the plates down.
“True,” Nichole replied after staring at her baby sister for a few moments.
Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do Page 19
