I walked into club Cream alone. I was dressed to impress in a pair of tight denim jeans that highlighted my thick curves, and long legs, and a tight stylish shirt that showed off my breasts. The heels I wore were sexy and cheap. I also sported cubic zirconia jewelry to look a little extra. I was dressed like a diva on a shoestring budget. I looked the part, but in truth, when it came to my wardrobe, I was faking it until I made it. Mouse was wearing the real stuff though: red bottoms, Chanel, Fendi. Rico had her looking phenomenal and I was wearing knockoffs and clearance stuff.
We hadn’t signed a record contract yet, or had a hit song out, and she was already wearing designer clothing and living a somewhat rock-star lifestyle, thanks to Rico. I wasn’t jealous of my friend; I was always happy for her. But I was just tired of being poor, and struggling to become successful, and trying to make it in America. Sometimes it seemed like it wasn’t going to ever happen.
The DJ had Rick Ross’s “Maybach Music” blaring and the place was live like a wire, and swelling with a crowd of about a hundred revelers or more. Instantly I caught attention from the men when I came alone. Their eyes shifted my way with transfixed stares from my top to bottom. I was always eye candy for so many people even with my fake and knockoff clothing.
I didn’t come here to socialize with anyone. I only came to talk to Rico. I was ready to hear what he had to say, especially after Search left without me. I wanted to get out, chill for a minute, and have a few drinks.
Cream was a twenty-one-and-older club near the Major Deegan Expressway. My fake ID looked authentic and I knew the bouncer at the door. I told him that I was there for Rico’s party and he let me slide through easily like ice going down a slippery slope.
The dance floor was packed, people grinding, sweating, and partying hard to the DJ’s lively tunes like there wasn’t going to be any tomorrow. I looked around for Rico and figured he could only be in one place, and that was the VIP section up top, overlooking the congestion of people below. I looked up and saw Rico’s crew above. Everyone was partying hard, popping bottles, and wilding out. I headed their way, with niggas on me like white on rice as I moved through the crowd. They were pulling and grabbing at me, either wanting a dance or a minute of my time.
Muthafuckas were thirsty for a piece of me. I had to be harsh to some of these muthafuckas. Some assholes just couldn’t accept an easy no or a polite, “I’m good,” when I turned them down. But a harsh, “Fuck you!” or a nasty, “Get the fuck out my face!” was the language they understood quite clearly.
I pushed my way through the tight crowd and made it to the foot of the stairs that led up to the VIP area. One husky security guard was watching vigilantly for any unwanted company or trouble. Rico had enemies too, quite more than me on the streets. When the man saw me approaching, his look remained expressionless with his huge arms folded across his chest.
“I’m here for Rico’s party,” I told him.
His hard scowl didn’t intimidate me. He didn’t know who the fuck I was, and he looked like he was about to be trouble. But before he came with any callous refusal my way, I heard someone say, “Yo, she’s wit’ us, let her up.”
The man nodded, moved to the side, and let me go up. Rico made sure to have security tight, sparing no expense with bouncers strategically placed around the club and having VIP locked down like it was Fort Knox. He was surrounded by his thugs and having the time of his life, but that didn’t stop him from being on point. I saw him seated on the red velvet lounge chair with a bottle of Cîroc in his hand and some dumb-looking bird bitch sitting on his lap. I admit, he was looking good with his strapping physique in a black V-neck and his cornrows freshly done. He sported a Cuban-link fourteen-karat white gold chain around his neck and a Rolex around his wrist.
I looked around for Mouse, expecting that she would be in attendance too, but there wasn’t any sign of her. I did want to talk to her.
Rico smiled heavily when he saw me approaching him. Out of respect for me, he quickly pushed the dumb bitch he had on his lap off of him and stood up. It looked like she was ready to curse him out and make a scene, but she was no fool. The bitch knew her position. She didn’t want to fuck with me or Rico.
“Sammy, what’s good. I see you made it to my party.” Rico greeted me with a huge smile and hug.
I had everyone’s attention in his circle. I was the best looking bitch in the room. And I was the only bitch in the room who had Rico’s undivided attention like that. I always held his attention, whether I wanted to or not.
“Where’s Mouse?” I asked him.
“She’s home,” he responded nonchalantly.
“So why isn’t she out partying wit’ you?” I asked with a raised brow.
He chuckled like a young boy. “She wasn’t feeling too well, so she decided to stay home.”
I didn’t believe him.
“And you out here partying wit’ the next bitch on ya lap. You better not hurt my girl, Rico,” I warned him.
“Relax, Sammy, Mouse is in good hands. I take care of her,” he replied coolly.
I looked at him like whatever. He offered me a drink and I accepted. Taking a seat next to Rico with the music blaring, he was already in my ear talking, trying to discuss business. The crowd around him cleared out, giving us some privacy, with it looking like Rico and I was a couple in the club. It wasn’t a good look, and to be honest, I felt guilty sitting next to Rico in VIP with Mouse not around. We’d known each other for years, but it just didn’t feel right. But Rico didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He continued to drink and talk to me.
“You know ya too good to be fuckin’ around wit’ Search,” he said in my ear.
“You tryin’ to talk about a man who’s not here to defend himself,” I said in Search’s defense.
“Is he tryin’ to defend you? Do that puta got ya best interest at heart?” he replied gruffly.
“What you mean by that, Rico?” I asked.
“We gotta talk later, when there are less people around and it’s quieter,” he said, then took a sip of Patrón. He then continued with, “But for now, ya out the house, so have a good time, don’t think about the hard ones, and let’s have some fun . . . like we used to do back in the days.”
I didn’t want to be reminded of the old days with him. I was thirteen years old when we first met, and was so much a naïve little bitch back then. Sometimes history or the past should be left alone.
Rico poured me a drink, and then raised his cup filled with liquor and I lifted mines in the air. We toasted—about what, I had no idea. But the vibes were cheerful and relaxed; even some of Rico’s hardest thugs and contract killers had smiles on their faces.
The night went on with me actually having a good time with Rico and his peoples. I danced and I laughed. For a moment, I felt like a completely different person: no beef, no drama, and I forgot about my nightmare with Macky. I was a strong woman and wasn’t going to break so easily, but I wasn’t going to forget about it. The club music was good and, in spite of being in a room with thugs and killers, there wasn’t any drama or tension.
Rico and I started to dance. We moved in union with him grinding behind me in a slow wind, our hips gyrating to Ciara’s “Promise”:
And I’ve been kind of lonely
But I’m looking for somebody to talk to
It felt like those words were talking directly about me. And with Rico pressed tightly behind me, I quickly came to my senses and pulled away from him. It wasn’t happening, and what the fuck was I thinking when I allowed him to grind behind me like that? It had to be the alcohol talking.
With the party winding down and the crowd thinning out, I was a little tipsy, and hated that I had to travel back home alone. It was quite a distance either by cab or public transportation. I made my way toward the exit. The Cîroc Peach and Grey Goose had me feeling nice. It was almost four in the morning and I didn’t want to go straight home, but there was nothing else to do. I only had enough cash for the twenty do
llar cab ride to my hood.
“You don’t even have to worry about catching a cab, Sammy. I got you. I’ll take you home,” Rico offered. “We need to continue to chat it up anyway.”
I looked at him, feeling this could turn into a huge mistake. I already felt some type of way that Mouse wasn’t at his party, and I was. And then with us having a moment on the dance floor, it wasn’t right. However, it was really late, I was tired and somewhat tipsy, and a ride home would save me twenty dollars and some time.
“Just take me straight home, Rico,” I said.
“I got you, Sammy. Ya my homegirl, and I’m gonna always make sure you end up okay,” he said.
I walked with him to his car with the spring night becoming a little brisk. We were alone approaching his parked 650i that seemed to glisten on the corner of the block. He opened the door for me and I slid inside like I was his girl. He was being a gentleman. I tried to be aloof. I just wanted to go home. He got behind the wheel and started the ignition. He lit a cigarette, took a few pulls, and then shared it with me. I needed a smoke.
Rico exhaled and looked at me. He then asked, “What you gonna do wit’ yourself, Sammy?”
Why did he ask me that? I was ready to bark on him and hop out his car, but he continued with, “I know ya better than this. You ain’t like these other bitches scavenging around, ain’t got shit goin’ fo’ themselves, wit’ four kids and countless baby daddies and whatnot. You sassy wit’ it and you don’t whore yourself out. You probably can count on one hand the niggas you been wit’. I always had respect fo’ you. And you got talent, Sammy, real fuckin’ talent, and ya fuckin’ smart.”
It was a raw compliment. I was listening. He got onto the Cross Bronx Expressway.
“Where you goin’ wit’ this?” I asked bluntly.
“How long you gonna let Search run you into the ground?” he asked me.
“What?” I asked with bewilderment.
“Sammy, there’s more to that dude than you think. He ain’t the man you think he is.”
“And you are, Rico?” I replied sharply.
“Hey, my true colors show early. I’m still that nigga you know from back then. But Search, he can be a grimy nigga, and you shouldn’t trust him.”
“But I should trust you, Rico? You were the same man who couldn’t pay my $2,500 bail when I was fifteen. That same nigga who involved me in drug dealing and a drug war. The same man who I was only business to, and sometimes treated me like shit when I had a deep crush on him.”
“That was awhile ago, Sammy, and I truly apologize for the past and my actions. You are a good woman, real talk, and I love you. But Search, that chubby bastard, is only out for himself. Man, check out some of the company he keeps around him. I’m in the business of knowing things and finding out about people. And he went to ATL without taking you, or even having the respect to tell you that he was leaving. You think that was right?” he strongly proclaimed.
Rico had me thinking, and he was right about a few things. I hadn’t spoken to Search in weeks. We were supposed to do that show at the Manhattan Center, but we never got the phone call confirming it. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Also, the confrontation with Macky had me thinking extra hard. Macky was a good friend of Search and the nigga had me fooled. Macky was a monster, but Search had vouched for him, and if Search could be friends with a man like that, then there was no telling what other monsters Search associated himself with.
Rico continued with, “You and Mouse been fuckin’ wit’ the nigga for over a year, and what you got to show for it? No disrespect to you, Sammy, you still a broke bitch out here. And you can have all the talent in the world, but if you ain’t benefiting from it and gettin’ paid, what good is having it? At least when you were fuckin with me, I had you paid. You was making money. You was able to take better care of ya mother. You was able to live. Yeah, doing shows in the city is cool, but y’all gettin’ paid for them shows?”
Rico looked at me and, for once, I kept quiet. The cat had my tongue. I could only shake my head no.
“So let me guess, Search is sayin’ it’s all about promotion right?”
“Yeah, he did.”
Rico chuckled. “You see how Search is living. Nice green Durango he’s pushing, the way his crib is laced out, the nigga can travel when he wants, and the connects he got in the business, and you mean to tell me you still out here trying to get a record deal, just now getting into the studio and fighting for scraps? What kind of manager is that?”
I didn’t know if he was trying to brainwash me. What was Rico’s motive? But I was becoming more aware about a few things.
“It takes money to make money out here. C’mon, Sammy, you know the game. You a hustler,” he added. “You can get out here, grind, make ya own ends, and invest into ya own damn self.”
I was. I traded in the crack vials for a pen and a pad, along with a hope and a dream. I didn’t want to give up and wasn’t going to give up. But I needed to make that paper again. I needed to breathe and exhale like Whitney Houston. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be brand new somewhere else.
Rico exited off the expressway. We were coming closer to home. Home was becoming a disaster to me. Rico was talking and I was listening. When we finally made to Edenwald, I had the urge to slap the shit out of Search. But there were always two sides to a story, and I wasn’t just going to listen to Rico. He was a snake too.
Rico sat idling in front of my building and placed another cigarette into his mouth. I stared at my building. I hesitated getting out his car. I didn’t want to go inside yet. I wanted to escape, even if it was for the night. I wanted to go somewhere far and chill.
Rico puffed and exhaled. He leaned back in his seat and said with a rakish smile, “You gettin’ out, Sammy, or you gonna spend the night in the front seat?”
I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
“A lot to think about, huh?” he added.
I turned to look at Rico, and I felt I was going to regret saying it, but I blurted, “Take me away from here, Rico.”
He looked confused.
“I just wanna go somewhere for the night. I need to get away, Rico. I’m tired.”
“Where you wanna go?”
“Anywhere but here,” I told him.
“You sure?”
I nodded.
He put the car back in drive and spun it into a U-turn and we drove away. I closed my eyes, sat back in the seat, and imagined I was on an airplane somewhere leaving Edenwald behind me in the distance.
“You gonna be okay, Sammy, I got you,” said Rico.
I was committing the ultimate sin in paradise. And this was a moment I wanted to take back, but I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and gasped, having beads of perspiration formed on my forehead. The feeling between my thighs felt so good and intense with his body pressed into mines, my nipples crushed against his naked chest, my legs wrapped around him, and we moved together in unity, our two bodies becoming one.
I moaned as I grabbed Rico tightly, my nails scrapping down his back. He had taken his dick and slammed it into me in one thrust, breaking my months-long drought of not having any dick inside of me. His dick felt delicious, sliding in and out of me, hitting my spot like crazy, twisting inside of me, pounding me and stroking me.
I looked deeply into his eyes and it let me know that everything was going to be fine, saying he was going to take care of me. I didn’t need to be afraid. And Rico, with the hunger of a starving man and the thrill of the first time, had penetrated me heatedly. I didn’t plan this. The sex was spontaneous.
The hotel suite we were in for the night was a palace in my eyes. It was a place of grand luxury. It had all the amenities for a good time. The rooms were exquisitely designed to present a classic regal feel and you could live it up with the wet bar and plasma TV. The bedroom boasted a king-sized bed, and the granite bathroom displayed a deep, sunken oval tub and custom shower. The atrium-view rooms at the Marriot in the city offered a full-size
d balcony or bay windows overlooking the impressive eighteen-story glass atrium. The Marriot was my temporary escape from the dungeon and fucking Rico was my eternal sin.
My mind wanted Rico to stop thrusting between my thighs, but my body ached for him to continue. I couldn’t even think straight. I was so close to cumming and I just wanted to feel that explosion. His rhythm between my legs went from slow, to steady, and to hard and deep. He drove his dick up inside me over and over again. My breath panted against his ear. He was making me moan and almost scream with pleasure and ecstasy divine. I could feel my pussy grabbing his so hard manhood and pulling him deeper inside me.
It almost felt like I was a virgin all over again. My pussy was so wet and tight for him. When he pushed the mushroom tip through my tingling and pulsating pussy lips, I cringed underneath him, my face twisted in heated passion. I kept my eyes closed when he fucked me and passionately kissed me because I didn’t want to see him. I only wanted to feel him. I closed my eyes and tried to shut out my wrong against my best friend.
“Damn, you feel so good. Ooooh, work that pussy, Sammy. Ooooh, fuck me,” he cooed in my ear.
My hips gyrated against him. My moans seemed endless. His tongue explored the inside of my mouth as we started kissing excitedly. Our touch against each other felt so radiant. With him inside of me, I completely blocked the guilt I was committing from my mind, faded Mouse from my thoughts, and enjoyed the night with Rico. He was pulling my nipples, twisting them, and humping inside of me.
I felt the sensation. I felt the heat and the tingling between my legs at the same time. My breathing started getting more labored. I shut my eyes strongly, felt my body releasing and I was lost to the pleasure of the dick thrusting inside me.
“I’m gonna cum,” I cried out.
La Familia Page 18
