“You can come.” He laughed.
“Okay, see you soon.”
I hurried out of the bathroom, and put my phone on my dresser. Instead of wearing regular clothes, I opted for the lingerie I’d recently bought when at the mall with my girls. I didn’t want to beat around the bush; I wanted Kito to know I wanted some dick as soon as I stepped in the building. Just an hour and forty-five minutes later, I had on my sweet-smelling body lotion, a little bit of body spray, lingerie, heels, and a trench coat.
As soon as I picked up my phone to pocket it, Qamar was calling. Hitting decline, I grabbed my purse and happily left before Taya or my mother saw me. I didn’t feel like explaining my outfit, even though I had a big coat on.
Kito lived in a nice, comfy home in Torrance. He only had one car in his driveway, so I parked next to him, checked my makeup, and then got out. I took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, and while waiting, I opened the coat to expose myself. I heard him unlocking the door a few moments later, and when he opened it, his eyes lit up at the sight.
“Get yo’ ass in here.” He pulled me by my coat belt, and picked me up as if I were equal to a feather. He smelled so damn good that it made no sense. He kicked his door closed and locked it, then carried me to his bedroom as we kissed.
Once in his room, he removed my coat and pushed me down lightly onto the bed. He gave me a show, letting me watch him undress, and damn was I right about his body. He was definitely a chocolate god, semi-covered in tattoos. When he stepped out of his boxer briefs, my mouth watered at the size of his dick. Yes, I was about to end this drought perfectly.
Kito climbed on top of me, getting in between my legs. He kissed me hungrily, and ripped my little lace panties off roughly.
“Keep your heels on,” he demanded as he unfastened the bra I had on like a pro. Once it was off, he devoured my nipples, and I could feel his big dick on my thigh, making my pussy salivate. His lips traveled down my body, sucking on my stomach, before he made it down between my legs again. “Mmm, shit,” he moaned, slowly making love to my middle with his mouth.
“Kito,” I whined, as he groped my thighs while eating. This man had a Master’s in eating pussy … I was sure of it.
He brought me to another orgasm, and this time as he kissed up my stomach, my body continued to jerk a little. In one move, he flipped me over, pushed my head down into the bed, and gripped my hips so that my ass was in the air. I looked over my shoulder to see him put a condom on, and after kissing down my back a little, I felt his thick head at my opening.
“Mmm,” I whimpered with my lips tucked as he pushed into me.
He snaked his fingers through my hair and pulled on it a little, as he pounded me from behind. In what felt like seconds, I was cumming on him.
“Damn, looks like this pussy is mine,” he commented, keeping up his speed. “Right?”
“Ye—yeah,” I sniveled, grasping his sheets in my hand since he showed no mercy. I felt my nectar wetting up my inner thighs as Kito continued to pummel me doggy-style.
He slowly pulled out of me, and I came so hard as he did. I was spent, but he put me onto my back, placed my legs on his shoulders and re-entered me. My eyes were low, as I stared up at his sexy ass, biting his lip while fucking me.
He dropped down onto me, and slow stroked me for a little bit while kissing me passionately. Everything about this session was the perfect way to end my sex drought.
Slowly, he pinned my hands above my head, and hammered me until we both came.
“You looking like you love a nigga or something.” He smiled, kissing my sweaty collarbone.
“I just might,” I joked.
He chuckled as he pulled out of me and then with a serious face said, “I know we’re just dating and shit right now, but if and when we get serious, Bia, I won’t tolerate whatever the fuck you got going on with Qamar. Just like you wouldn’t tolerate it from me.”
“Of course.” I rubbed the side of his handsome face. “And there is absolutely nothing going on with Qamar, I promise.”
He nodded with a smile, before removing the condom and climbing off of the bed.
“Coming to the shower?” He half smiled.
I said nothing, I just put my hand in his and followed. At this rate, Qamar was the least of his worries. Kito was on the winning team.
***
Two days later …
“I’m outside,” Qamar spoke into the phone.
“Okay, give me a couple minutes.”
“Aight.”
I hit the end button and then continued putting on my makeup. As I lined my lips, I saw someone out the corner of my eyes, and I noticed it was my mother.
“Oh, you scared me, Mama.” I chuckled before looking back into my mirror. “You okay?”
“I’m doing as good as one in my condition would be.” She walked in and sat down on my bed. “So going out with Kito again? I like him.”
“Umm.” I twisted the top back onto my liquid lipstick as I pressed my lips together. “No, I’m going out with Qamar tonight.”
“Qamar.” She paused, so I turned to look her way. “I thought that was pretty much done with, sweetheart. You told me you didn’t like him that way anymore.”
“Ma, he asked, so I’m just going. It’s not that big of a deal.” I stood up and grabbed my shoes from my closet.
“I just don’t get why you’re going to go out with him just because he asked, Bia. He’s going to expect you guys’ relationship to go further if you continue to let him take you out. And then what about Kito?”
“I already told Qamar how I felt, and that he’d be starting from scratch. So he knows the feelings I have for him are minimal to nothing, but he wants to try.” I shrugged. “Not like I’m leading him on.”
“Honey, the thing about men is that they believe if they’ve had you once, they can have you again. It wouldn’t matter if you were married with kids and had a restraining order on them. They’re foolish like that.”
“Well, he can be foolish all he wants, not my problem. He can’t force me to be with him.”
“I love you, Bia, and I just don’t want you getting sucked into something that you really don’t want to be in. You spent a lot of time with this boy because you felt sorry for him, when you could have been doing other things that you actually wanted to do.”
“I know, but that won’t happen again. I’m not gonna give him the benefit of the doubt anymore. I was ignorant to his illness at that time, and now I’m not. The most that should happen when he’s off his meds is him getting really sad, nothing else.”
When I first met Qamar, I wasn’t really aware of what his disease in particular would cause him to do. But while he was in rehab, I really looked into it and spoke to different people who gave me more insight. And every person that I explained Qamar’s behavior to, said his illness played little to no part in that. Him assaulting Nadine, almost raping me, and choking Lacie, even though she was carrying his child, was just simply … Qamar. I didn’t want to believe that at first. I wanted to believe that he wasn’t that person and his illness caused him to act that way, but it wasn’t the case. And tonight, I would definitely be calling his ass out to see if he’d be honest or if he’d blow a fuse like usual then try to cry sick after.”
“I’m happy you’re more aware then. And I’m happy you won’t be babying him anymore either. That’s why he’s still a child now; not because of you, but I’m sure his mother still breastfeeds that nigga.”
“Ma!” I laughed.
“No, but seriously, Bia, from mother to daughter because I love you, I don’t want to die knowing you’re with Qamar. I wouldn’t rest peacefully knowing you’d be spending the rest of your life raising a man. Your father was childish too, and look.” She shrugged. “You don’t have to be with Kito, even though he’s fine and I know you like him, but at least be with someone who can actually be a man to you. Someone that at least tries to make you happy and actually does.”
“Y
es, Mama.” I hugged her.
She left my bedroom, so I put on some perfume and grabbed my purse. Hearing my mother say she wouldn’t rest easily if she thought I was with Qamar fucked with me for sure. I understood it though. It’d be like someone telling me on my deathbed that Taya was marrying Flow. All I would think about is her getting cheated on and mistreated for the rest of her life. Little did my mother know though, her speech was preaching to the choir because the fire between Qamar and I had long ago burnt out.
“Shit, I forgot to open the door for you. I was too busy watching you walk.” Qamar smiled once I got into the car.
“It’s okay, no big deal.” I put my seat belt on, just as my phone buzzed.
Kito: After that date, you should come over.
Me: Maybe I will
I sighed after I sent my reply, reminiscing on that night I’d spent with Kito. Sex, long talks, sex, massages, food … it was just bliss.
“You aight?” Qamar touched my thigh and rubbed it.
“Yep.” I gently moved his hand from my leg, and he paused for a moment. “You look nice,” I said to redirect the mood.
“Oh thanks. I tried to do a little something.” He cranked his car up and pulled off.
The ride was fairly quiet with the exception of the music playing in the background. I guess Qamar didn’t have much to say, and my mind was too focused on what my mother said to me to even process any other thoughts.
We ended up at this restaurant named McCormick & Schmick’s, which was like a nice surf and turf spot. I was in the mood for seafood, so I was happy he chose this one. The place wasn’t too crowded, so we were seated pretty quickly at a booth table near the back of the restaurant, and right by a window.
“Nice choice, Q,” I smiled.
“Pretty good food. I’ve only been here once though with Ricky and Micah, but we liked it. It was like an impromptu thing.”
I nodded.
“Well I hope this second time is just as good.” It was quiet for a little bit, and then a waitress came over to take our drink orders. When she left, I said, “You know while you were in rehab, I did a lot of research.”
“On?”
“You and you being bipolar II.” I bore into his eyes, but his darted all around before they landed on me. “People told me that it was extremely rare someone with your diagnosis should get violent and angry the way you did. You mainly only get sad, and worst-case scenario, extremely excited.” I fidgeted. “They said only someone with bipolar I may do the things you did, but that’s not what you have.”
“How you know?” He sat back.
“Because the doctor at the rehab said you didn’t. He said your case was mild, Qamar. Are you saying he’s lying?”
For a brief moment, he stared down at the table, then he exhaled and looked up at me.
“Nah, he ain’t lying. I admit that not taking my meds puts me in a depressed mood, or if I go without it too long, it’ll put me in too good of a mood. I just…” He shook his head. “I took advantage of a situation because I could. I’m gon’ be honest with you. I was being reckless and I knew I would get the benefit of the doubt.”
“So because you knew people would forgive you because of your illness, you basically did whatever you wanted.”
“In a sense.”
“Not in a sense, Qamar, it’s a yes or no.”
“Yeah, Bia, I did, aight? I’d been doing it for a minute, and getting into Hollywood just made shit worse. I became Qamar, and I got to a point where I felt like I could do whatever I wanted and shit wouldn’t happen to me. It gave me a sense of freedom to do whatever the fuck I wanted to do, with little to no repercussions.”
“Wow.” I chuckled. I guess a part of me was expecting him to deny it, or give me an explanation. “And the cocaine? Your cousin got you into it, right?”
“I’d tried it before, but when she said she used it to regulate her moods, it gave me a reason to do it without feeling bad. Being in Hollywood, that shit is everywhere, and you gotta have a strong mind to not engage in that shit, honestly. It started off as something I only did once every blue moon, to doing it weekly because I had a reason to, and then it became a full on addiction.”
“Not a reason to, an excuse.”
“An excuse to, yes.” He nodded as the waitress came back with our cocktails. She then took our food orders and left.
“Glad you’re admitting it now, even though it seems to be too late.” I sipped my drink. “When were you planning to tell me that your uncle was your father?” I only found out because of Ricky and MG.
He looked up from his drink and said, “I don’t even know. Kind of slipped my mind I guess.”
“Okay.”
“So this nigga at ya job. Y’all still dating and shit?” He sipped his drink and stared at me. It was like it didn’t even matter that I found out he’d been basically fooling me this whole time.
“Yes.”
“Y’all fucking?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Qamar, especially not since you have your baby mama laid up in your house. And I know that hasn’t been platonic.”
“So you are fucking him.” He covered his face. “Oh my fucking gosh. You let that nigga fuck.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “And I guess I can’t fuck, right?”
“Wow, is that all you care about? Really? Sleeping with me?”
“I just need a moment to process the fact that you for real fucked this dude.” He chuckled angrily and tossed his cloth napkin onto the table.
“You’re mad about me having sex with a man I’m dating, when you hid a pregnancy from me for our entire little rendezvous. At least I’m not with you, but we were together for a minute and you never mentioned a pending baby mama.”
“It’s not the same! You ain’t supposed to fuck another nigga, period! It don’t matter how long I’m out of commission, you ain’t supposed to be out here tossing that shit to every nigga that you think is cute! That’s what the fuck hoes do!”
“Tossing it to every nigga?” I bucked my eyes.
“Ah!” He shouted when I threw my drink in his face.
“I am not your woman, and I don’t want to be! I can do whatever the hell I want! You will never fucking change! Don’t waste my damn time anymore, you bastard!” I yelled loudly as hell over the restaurant, slid out of the booth, and then walked off.
When I got outside to order an Uber, I heard someone come out of the restaurant.
“Bia,” Qamar said softly. “Bia.” He came around to face me and when he grabbed my arms, I moved back. Here comes the apology in 3 … 2 … “I’m sorry, baby. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. Yeah, I don’t like the fact that another nigga has your attention, but that’s my fault. I chose to fuck you over, thinking like all these other females that you would wait it out until I got ready to get some act right, and I thought wrong.
I still have to work on controlling myself when I get angry, and not just saying foul shit to people I care about, so I’m sorry for the way I just came at you. It was an attempt to make you feel guilty so that you’d be sorry for what you did, even though you shouldn’t be.”
“Blah, blah.” I waved him off, prompting a temporary look of shock to appear on his face.
Sighing, he said, “To be honest, baby, being a man is hard for me. My definition of what a man was is only about 5% of it. I wanna be what you deserve, but I honestly don’t know if I can. Being childish and immature, as bad as it sounds, is so much easier.”
“I don’t have anything to say. I don’t even really give a fuck at this point what you do, as long as it doesn’t involve me.”
“I get that, but I want you to try with me.”
I laughed hard as hell because this fool was really serious. Maybe if I loved him then it wouldn’t be so farfetched.
“I’ve tried already and all you want is for me to push my life and problems to the side, just to focus on you. Stop expecting everyone else to try, when you don’t even
try. Try for your damn self,” I spat just as the Uber pulled up. I went to open the backdoor, but before I got, in I said, “I don’t want a little boy, Qamar, so if being a man is too hard, please, please leave me alone. You should be as exhausted as I am by now.”
“Don’t you love me?” he inquired with dipped brows. I frowned because I couldn’t believe he’d ask me something like that.
“No … I don’t. Qamar, put that energy that you’re putting into me, into your child on the way. That baby should be more important to you.”
He watched me get in the car and just stood there as the driver pulled off. Usually, after my arguments with Qamar, I’d be sad or bothered, but I wasn’t. I was … okay. Maybe it was because I just really wanted him to leave me the hell alone.
Chapter Eight: Micah
After Butch dropped that damn bomb on me, I didn’t know what the fuck to think or do or even say. It was like every time I got used to one thing Isla did, she pulled some more shit out of her damn hat.
How long had she been giving this nigga my bread? She had played my ass worse than some of these niggas had done these females, and that shit wasn’t cool at muthafuckin’ all. I didn’t even know her ass anymore. She was nothing like the girl I grew up around; nah, this lifestyle had changed her ass for the worst.
And as badly as I wanted to go let Kattlyn know that I wanted her and not Isla, I couldn’t do that shit right now. My mood was all fucked up, and Kattlyn would definitely notice. Then to make shit worse, I had to meet with Greezy today about my damn album, and I knew for sure whatever the fuck he had to say wouldn’t be good at all.
“MG, he’s ready for you,” some new receptionist named Dasha let me know before hanging up the phone on her desk.
“Thanks.” I got up and exhaled heavily, dragging my damn feet until I made it to the office room. “How you doing, G?” I greeted him.
“You got the tracks for me to listen to?” he inquired, getting straight to the point. Lately, his ass had been on one, and not in a good way. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with the fact that he now knew his wife would be giving birth to Qamar’s son any day now.
She Got It Bad for a Heartless Gangsta Page 23
