As I watched Mahogany, I saw a patron out the corner of my eyes walking a little too briskly for my liking. I turned some, and my eyes landed on a nigga who resembled Gucci Mane by the belly. I could tell he thought he was fresh, and that the fit he had on was one he wore whenever he went somewhere and wanted to floss. This AP watch on my wrist alone could pay for his whole lifestyle thrice over though.
I got up and started out of my section, ignoring the niggas trying to look cool and say what’s up to me. When I realized Belly Mane was approaching the stage, I picked up speed a little bit, not even thinking about security.
“Get off the fucking stage, Mahogany!” the nigga barked, reaching for her, but she moved back some, looking terrified.
“Roger, I—”
“Aye, nigga, fuck you think you doing?” I yanked on his shoulder to turn him towards me.
“Aye, don’t put ya fucking… Ricky AK?” His sentence trailed off as he frowned. “Look, man, I fuck with ya music and shit. I think you dope as fuck, but this is between me and my bitch, so back off.”
“You can get at her when she’s off work, nigga,” I replied.
“No, I’m gon’ get at her now.”
“Nah, you gon’ sit yo’ ass down somewhere, or get the fuck out and wait until she’s off work. You knew ya bitch was a stripper, so don’t come bringing yo’ pregnant ass in here trying to cause a scene.”
The people in earshot roared with laughter, since the music had lowered now that Mahogany had halted her set.
“Watch who you talking to, nigga. This my girl, so back up!”
Stepping closer to him with my hands clasped in front of me at my waist, I asked, “Or what? Fuck you gon’ do? Whatever it is, you might as well do it, because ya bitch is a dancer and she’s about to shake that ass and show them titties until her muthafuckin’ time is up. Reach for her again and on God, I’ll crack yo’ shit.” I stared down into his face, waiting.
Biggest thing on this nigga was his stomach. His arms were skinny as fuck, and judging from that belly, he didn’t visit the gym, so them legs were probably skinny as fuck and two seconds from collapsing under his ass. I was tall and a solid ass nigga, so I highly doubted he wanted any problems with me. He was the type to come shoot niggas because he couldn’t throw down.
“Man, fuck you!” he started towards me, but I banged his head down onto the stage, causing him to stumble back and fall. Nigga was dizzy as fuck. “Come get this nigga up and get him out my shit. And if any one of y’all hoes got a discount code for a waist trainer, write it on a napkin and give it to this bitch!” I yelled as security escorted him out, and the club broke out into laughter.
“Bye, bitch!” a crowd of people yelled to Roger as security escorted him out. That caused other people to do the same, pissing him off to the point where his damn near unconscious ass started twisting and turning in the guard’s arms.
“Aight, y’all!” I shouted, then looked up to Mahogany. “Finish ya shit.”
I went back to my section for one more drink, and then headed up to my office to handle a few things. About thirty minutes later, I heard a knock on the door, so I pulled my gun from my waist and told them to come in. When I saw it was Mahogany, I locked my shit back in.
“Hi… they told us to call you Mr. Montana, but it’s weird because you’re Ricky AK.”
“Either is aight. What you need?” I clicked away on my computer, but when she didn’t respond, I finally looked her way.
“I—I umm, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out there. I mean Roger isn’t that bad, he just gets drunk sometimes. And he really doesn’t like me stripping.”
“Well, if he don’t like you stripping, he needs to get his fucking money up so he can get you up out of here.”
She paused for a moment, eyes scanning my face before replying, “True. I mean, he’s been looking for a lucrative hustle.”
“Nigga is at least thirty; he should have been found one.”
“I just hope he doesn’t come do this again. He’s from Compton.” She added the last part which made me laugh as I scratched my beard.
“Where you from?”
“Oregon. Portland. Portland, Oregon.”
“Compton isn’t the worst L.A. has to offer; it’s just the most famous hood because of NWA and shit. You ever heard of South Central, Los Angeles?”
“No. Well I mean, you mention it in your songs.”
“That’s where I’m from, which is way worse than Compton. So, if we going off where niggas is from, warn ya boyfriend not to bring his ass back up here acting crazy, or I just might force feed his ass some flat tummy tea.”
Laughing loudly before covering her mouth out of embarrassment, she said, “Okay. Thanks again, Ricky.” She half smiled, holding the doorknob.
“Go do some table dances and close the door behind you.”
Bia Hadden
The next morning…
I was in my office looking over some paperwork for one of my clients, because the CEO of the company I was working with would be coming to see me in a little bit. I’d come so far in marketing, not just with owning my own company with my husband, but these days, I did a lot without even thinking. I remember back when I worked for Guinevere how nervous I used to be about every damn thing. Now I was a professional though, and working alongside my husband made things even sweeter for me.
“Hadden Marketing,” I heard my assistant Amanda answer the phone outside of my door. A few moments later, my office phone was ringing so I answered it.
“This is Bia.”
“Hey, Bia, Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter are here. Can I send them back, or would you like me to offer them some refreshments to give you some time?”
“No, go ahead. Thanks, Amanda.”
I hung up the phone and stood up just as my personal cell phone buzzed. I looked down to see it was a text from Kito, which made me smile. I wasn’t sure if this was how love was supposed to be because I’d never been in it until I met him, but I was ridiculously smitten with this man… still. Just the mention of his name, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice, or even the sight of his name popping up on my iPhone got me all warm inside.
Opening the text, I read it and let the smile on my face spread like wildfire until it was a grin.
Husband: I think we got this one. Actually, I’m pretty sure. I love you.
“Someone is happy,” a male voice commented, prompting me to damn near drop my phone onto the floor.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Carpenter.” I rounded my desk beaming, but not for him. “Mrs. Carpenter.” I nodded to her, not sure why he brought his wife to the meeting.
“Hello, Mrs. Hadden,” they both replied simultaneously before walking to sit down on the leather couch in my office. I too sat down, but on the one adjacent to them.
“Are you guys alright, or should I have my assistant get you some water, coffee, tea…?”
“No thank you, we’re fine,” Mr. Carpenter replied. He was a nice looking Black man with a perfectly shiny baldhead, and an even more perfectly trimmed goatee.
“Where is Mr. Hadden?” Mrs. Carpenter inquired.
“Oh, we accidentally double-booked kind of, so he went to the meeting in the field and I stayed here. He should be joining us shortly.”
Mr. Carpenter was a fairly young guy, mid-forties, and he owned a clothing company chain named Fly Bird. The store was very successful in the nineties but kind of lost its touch around 2012. So he’d recently hired Hadden Marketing to kind of help him get his company back on track, after having a couple bad runs with other marketing agencies. And despite the company not doing as well as it used to, Mr. Carpenter was very wealthy and didn’t mind paying whatever he needed to in order to get the job done.
I’d ran into too many clients who wanted the top tier service but didn’t want to pay any money. My husband and I had worked very hard over the past few years and it felt good to call ourselves an upscale marketing company; especially after the few awards we’d won.
By saying that, if you didn’t have the funds we couldn’t help your ass. Our prices fit the work.
“Great, great.” Mr. Carpenter nodded, but Mrs. Carpenter who was a doppelgänger for Paula Patton, looked a bit disappointed. I didn’t know her reasons but if she had a thing for my man, it’d better stay in her pretty little head.
“Okay, so the main few things we need to really focus on, Mr. Carpenter—”
“Call me Stephen, Mrs. Hadden.”
“Of course, Stephen.” I wasn’t about to tell him to call me Bia. I actually liked being referred to as a missus. “So we need to pay more attention to your website, meaning get that renovated to look more welcoming and more fun.”
“More fun?” Mrs. Carpenter raised a brow.
“Yes. Most of your old online shoppers were young people.” I pulled out the reports that Kito and I had pulled up. “And with the research my husband and I did, it shows that 75 percent of your online traffickers leave in under a minute, meaning they don’t even make it past the splash advertisements.”
“Oh damn,” Stephen said, causing us all to giggle lightly.
“Exactly, so we need to make the site more attractive, also while promoting the fact that Fly Bird is a trusted brand for the best quality jeans, jackets, boots, and sweaters.”
“Sounds good to me.” Stephen nodded, looking to his wife who shrugged.
Exactly, bitch; you don’t know shit, so hush it.
“And lastly, we need to get someone on social media accounts like Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. A lot of these sites allow promoted posts, and they’re also good for engaging with your customers.”
“I don’t do social media,” Stephen replied, brows furrowed.
“We can hire someone to take care of that part for you. Someone young and vibrant who knows a lot about social media and engagement,” I said.
“Sorry about that, Mr.… oh, and Mrs. Carpenter.” Kito entered my office looking so sexy in his button up and slacks. He shook both of our clients’ hands and then sat down next to me, discreetly palming my hip.
“No worries, Mr. Hadden.” Mrs. Carpenter smiled way too damn widely for my liking.
We continued the meeting, going over a few more things for the next hour. A couple hours later, we were finally calling it a day, and my feet couldn’t be more thankful. After picking up our son from the back house where my mother was now living alone since Taya was on campus until tomorrow for Christmas break, I started to cook.
“You looked so sexy in that meeting when I walked in. I wanted to just take you down right there.” Kito pushed up on me from behind as I seasoned the meat. My clit was already starting to tremor.
“Daddy, can you open this?” Kito Jr. interrupted us, prompting Kito to back off of me.
“You can’t do it yaself?” Kito joked, picking my baby up which made him laugh cutely.
“No!” Kito Jr. smiled at his identical twin aka his father. “Mommy, kiss?”
“Of course.” I made my way over to them both and kissed my son a couple times on his round cheeks. He then pushed his father’s and my head together to make us kiss, which we did while chuckling.
I got back to cooking while Kito went to give our baby a bath, and once I had the pork chops in the oven, I walked out of the kitchen so I could fully undress in the bedroom. On my way there though, I spotted the stack of mail, so I snatched it up en route to my room.
After slipping my heels off, I plopped down on my California King bed and began to open each letter. It was only two letters; one was some company offering a loan, so I tossed it to the side, and the second was Kito’s credit card statement. Tearing it open, I apathetically glanced over it, not expecting to see much, but I was in for an extremely rude awakening.
My eyes scanned frantically over the two purchases that caught my eye. There was a charge for something from Tiffany’s, which wasn’t a problem because that could be for me since Christmas was around the corner. However, the $800+ charge for roses is what caught me off guard the most. If those roses were for me, why the hell didn’t I have them already? He must have bought the shit for another hoe, because not only did I not have them, but why the hell would roses cost that damn much?
As I listened to Kito and Kito Jr. in the distance, in the bathroom, I felt like I was about to have a damn heart attack. It took every muscle in my body not to burst into tears, and then drown my husband in the bathtub water right in front of my son. I didn’t know if I was angry as hell or just very hurt.
I loved Kito way too much not to investigate this shit further though, so for now, I would hold off and pretend like everything was normal. However, I was gonna be watching him closely, and whatever bitch he was fucking with was about to find out that her man was very married and to a crazy bitch. I’d never been one to fight over a man, ever, but when it came to Kito, these bitches would learn not to fuck with me. And Kito had it coming too!
An hour later, dinner was ready, so I ate with my son and husband, then hopped into the shower.
“Ah!” I jumped when I felt Kito get into the shower with me, gripping my breasts from behind and letting his dick hit my ass. I was so deep into my thoughts that I didn’t even hear him enter the bathroom.
“I’ve been waiting to get to you all fucking day,” he whispered, kissing on my shoulders while toying with my nipples.
How could he still make me feel this good even though I despised him right now? Usually when I got angry with a dude, my sex drive would be kaput… but right now, I was just as horny for Kito as usual. I guess that was what love did to you.
Not saying a word, I allowed Kito to bend me over, grip my hips, and enter me slowly, causing us both to let out throaty moans. He moved in and out of me gently, one hand holding my hip and the other caressing my frame. It seemed as if he knew just how to stroke me to make me cum hard.
“Mmm, shit,” I cried out as Kito hit me deeply with his well-endowed member. As he pulled outward, I let loose all over him. And even though the shower water already had me wet, I felt like I was sweating.
“You know I love you?” He grunted, wrapping his large hand around my side as he fucked me senselessly.
I tried to roll my eyes, but instead, them shits went to the back of my head as he beat my pussy up like it was going out of style. Our skin colliding in combination with the water made it sound like an audience of one hundred, clapping their hands forcefully. Kito snaked his tongue all over my ear, not slowing up one bit.
“Ahhh, ba—” I couldn’t even finish my sentence as he fucked the shit out of me, making me explode two times in under a minute.
“Fuck.” He growled as he released inside of me, hugging my body from behind. “I love you, Bia.” He slipped his tongue into my mouth.
“I love you too.”
And why did I mean it?
***
The next morning…
I’d finished dressing my son since we’d already eaten breakfast, and now he and I were about to watch some Christmas movies in the living room. I thanked God on days like these for the fact that I was able to make my own schedule.
“Daddy watch too?” Kito Jr. questioned as his father walked into the bedroom with a towel around his waist.
“Where are you going?” I frowned, watching him dig through his drawers.
“I was gon’ go out and run real quick.”
“Okay, well me and KJ can come too,” I replied. If he thought he was about to go see his side chick, I was throwing a wrench in that shit.
“Nah, it’s too fucking cold for him to be out there, Bia.”
“We can put him on a jacket and come with you. Is there a reason that you don’t want us to come?” I placed my hand on my hip.
“Yeah, because it’s cold as fuck, and I’m not trying to have my son out there for no damn reason. Ain’t like he can keep up with us. I won’t even be gone long.”
“Fine. Fuck you.” I scooped our son up before Kito could reply and quickly left the room. I could fee
l Kito on my heels as I descended the stairs, and suddenly, I felt a nervousness in the pit of my stomach.
As soon as I placed Kito Jr. down onto the couch in the den, Kito grabbed my arm and pulled me into him.
“What’s wrong with you?” He kissed my neck with his thick soft lips, sending vibrations all throughout my body. “It’s just a run, baby. I won’t even be gone for thirty minutes.”
“Nothing is wrong, I’m fine.” I pushed him back some and sat down on the couch, but I felt him staring at me before going back to the bedroom.
By the time we found a movie to watch, Kito had come into the den dressed in his workout gear and a jacket. This nigga was really playing the part.
“I’ll be back in about 30-45.” He leaned down to kiss me, and I definitely did not reciprocate. He noticed and just stared into my eyes for a little bit, but I pretended to watch the movie. “And I’m gonna watch some movies too!” He tickled our son who screeched loudly.
Kito left out and after counting down from twenty, I grabbed up my baby and rushed out to the car. I buckled Kito Jr. in, and then hopped into the driver’s side so I could tail Kito’s ass. I was ready to fuck him and that bitch up before I called me a divorce lawyer.
“Mommy, where we go?” my baby asked.
“Just a quick little trip, okay?” I responded as I sped up, catching up to Kito but leaving a car in between us.
“Okay!”
The drive to Kito’s destination didn’t take long at all, especially because we ended up at the park that he usually ran at. Still, I parked off to the side and watched, waiting to see if some hoe ran up to join him. Maybe this was their thing… even though this was our fucking thing.
By the time he finished stretching, I’d lost all the adrenaline I once had. He started to run and when I realized he was coming in this direction, I quickly cranked my car up and got the fuck out of there. Kito didn’t play about his son, and if he knew I had him out here, it was gonna be some trouble.
I didn’t catch him this time, but I was going to for sure.
She Got It Bad for A Heartless Gangsta: An AK Christmas Page 3
