Don't Come Looking For Love 3: Family Ties

by Natavia

  “Britain, dear, you made it!” Malore said, walking through the crowd with her arms spread out for a hug.

  “O’Shea you are just as handsome as ever! When are you going to jump in a photo shoot with Britain? I’m working on this cocktail event clothing line, and you would be fabulous for it. I can see you two now dressed up in my latest gown and suit, posing. You two are sizzling hot!” she said.

  “Well, that’s up to the mister,” Britain said laughing.

  “I want to borrow her for a second,” Malore said, walking away with Britain.

  Corey sent me a text telling me that he was ready to take care of my small problem. Rissa was about to take a dirt nap. She must be used to blackmailing people and getting away with it. But she was fucking with the wrong nigga!

  A few minutes later, Britain walked back to me with a small plate of appetizers. She handed it to me but I told her I didn’t want it.

  “O’Shea, what the hell is your problem?” she asked me.

  “Britain, I’m not feeling the vibe here. I don’t know what it is, but I’m not. I don’t want to be here, simple as that.”

  “Well, after we meet her husband we can go. She wants me to meet him. She said he’s just coming back from Africa. He was over there for a year helping with the AIDS epidemic. Isn’t that wonderful?” she asked me.

  “Yeah, it is. That’s what’s up,” I said.

  “Britain, I would like you to meet my husband, Stephon!” Malore said from behind us. Once Britain turned around she dropped her plate. I turned around and came face-to-face with her bitch-ass daddy! My blood boiled and my adrenaline started pumping.

  “Nice to meet you, Britain. You look very familiar!” he said, kissing her hand. This nigga was a fucking fraud! She snatched her hand back then wiped it on her skirt.

  “Yes, you do look like someone I know. But he died in a car accident years ago. You have a lovely wife. Wow, you have been in Africa for a year? That’s amazing,” she said, smiling. Malore giggled.

  “Isn’t he wonderful?” Malore asked, putting her arm through his. I just stood there and grilled him as he smiled.

  “Yes, he is! So, where are the children?” Britain asked.

  “We don’t have any kids. We are busy working. We barely see each other because he’s always traveling. I call him Superman because he’s always trying to save the world,” Malore said.

  “Yes, that’s it—Clark Kent in the day and Superman by night. You’d be surprised how many personas one man can have,” Britain said snidely. Malore laughed at her joke.

  “Let me use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, dear!” Lenny said with a fake accent. I followed behind him ignoring Britain calling me back. He and I were now away from the crowd. This nigga took off running but I caught him, slamming his head into the statue by the window.

  “Get your bitch ass up, nigga,” I said, kicking him in the mouth. He charged into me slamming me through a door. I swung, knocking him off of me. I hurriedly got up then sent blows to his rib cage.

  “ARRRGGHHHHHHH!” he called out in pain. I slammed my fist repeatedly into his face. I knocked him on his ass, stomped his body as he balled up in a fetal position.

  “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY HUSBAND?” Malore screamed at me.

  “Beating this nigga’s ass, that’s what!” I said. I dragged Lenny into another room as Malore tried to pull me off of him. I pushed her out of the room then locked the door.

  Lenny spat out blood as he tried getting up.

  “Your bitch ass is mine now!” I said, slamming my fist into his face. His eyes swelled and his front teeth were missing but I couldn’t stop. The way he slapped Britain while she was in labor haunted me every day. Remembering how he held a gun to her head while she screamed in pain made me angrier. I stomped him until I couldn’t stomp him anymore. This nigga had been hiding for months and nobody could find him.

  The police kicked the door down, pulling me off of him. When they arrested me, Britain started fussing and screaming as they hauled me out. Cameras flashed in my face but I didn’t give a shit. I felt good beating that nigga’s ass! This was going to make the headline news but I still didn’t give a shit! Good part about it, my sales were going to go up!

  Latavia

  I was now five months pregnant and my stomach still wasn’t sticking out like it should have been. I had a feeling that when I got into my last few months, I was going to blow up. I went outside to check my mailbox and Ebony was pulling up. I hadn’t had the chance to catch up to the bitch because I hadn’t been home, and when I was home she wasn’t.

  I stood on the sidewalk with my hands on my hips, waiting for her to get out of her truck.

  “Well, isn’t it dry-pussy Ebony! Your old ass like fucking people’s man, huh? Does your husband know what you be doing? I guess I should call you Macaulay Culkin since you like to show off when you’re home alone,” I said laughing.

  “Excuse me?” she asked me.

  “Kenjay, bitch! You know who the fuck I’m talking about. That’s my damn baby father and your nasty ass tried to screw him,” I said to her.

  “Well, if you were during your job I wouldn’t have screwed him. My pussy being dry is a damn lie!” she said.

  “Let me just tell you this with your desperate ass. Stay the fuck away from my fucking man! If you call him one more time, I’m telling your husband what a freak bitch you are! I know all about the other lil’ niggas that come through when your husband’s working. Try me!” I spat.

  Kenjay pulled up then got out of his Audi. His white t-shirt hugged his solid frame. His jean shorts slightly sagged off his butt though not showing all of his boxers. He had on a fresh pair of white and red Jordan’s. Like always, his cologne reached me before he did.

  “What are you doing, Latavia? Are you starting shit?” he asked, smirking. Ebony boldly eyed him, licking her lips.

  “Bitch, you should’ve been licking your pussy before you called yourself giving my nigga a rug burn on his dick,” I said to her.

  “LATAVIA!” Kenjay said. I rolled my eyes then went into the house, slamming the door. He walked in with a scowl on his face.

  “Yo, why are you always running your mouth? What if she had whipped your ass, then what? I can’t jump in and help you out. That’s some bitch nigga shit!” he said laughing.

  “Fuck you, Kenjay! What do you want? When I pop up on you or want to spend some time with you, your ass be complaining and bitching. But now you know I live next door to your bitch, so you want to stop by,” I said fussing.

  “Shut the fuck up. I’m hungry,” he said.

  “Good! Take your ass next door and let her cook some food for you!” I said.

  “Hell, nawl! She’s a chicken breast-baking type of broad! I bet her food be dry as hell just like her twat! I’m good on that! I need to bite into something that’s juicy with flava!” he said, leaning back on the couch, licking his lips. Why did this nigga have to be so damn fine?

  “Umph, whatever,” I said walking into the kitchen.

  “Lose your attitude, Latavia!” he said from the living room. I had been sucking up to Kenjay, trying to be patient and more understanding. But he didn’t kiss me or anything, so I thought I’d really lost that part of him. I knew I’d been selfish but I was honestly working on that and he still didn’t see it. I was no longer nagging him about simple things.

  I felt a pair of hands massaging my shoulders and his cologne tickled my nostrils. A strong ache formed between my legs then my sex throbbed. It had been a months since I slept with Kenjay and I was to blame for that.

  “What’s the matter, shorty? Why are you stressing?” he asked me.

  “I just need you back,” I said.

  “Not on your terms, Latavia!” He turned me around, looking down at me. He lifted my chin up then started kissing me. My floodgates opened and my nipples pressed against my sundress.

  He hungrily kissed my neck then gripped my ass, pulling me closer to him. I pulled away. �
�Stop teasing me, Kenjay!” I said.

  “I’m not teasing you! You want it just as much as I do,” he said, putting my hand on his hard-on.

  He slid his hands up my shoulders then pulled my sundress straps down. My dress fell onto the floor. When he unhooked my bra, my breasts sprang out. He squeezed then kissed them. I grabbed the back of his head as he hungrily sucked my nipples. His other hand slid into my thong then between my warm wet slit. He pulled my thong down then backed me up into the counter. He bent down then lifted my leg up over his shoulder. His tongue entered me and I gasped. I gripped his head as he sucked on my bud.

  He reached up, caressing my breasts, which were sensitive from the pregnancy. If you breathed on them hard enough, I would cream my panties.

  “Yesssss. Baby! Oh, shit! I missed you so much!” I moaned as he spread my labia lips, sucking on my sweet, dripping hole. He slithered his tongue around my clit in a snake-like motion. The sounds of him slurping on my wet pussy echoed throughout the kitchen. It sounded like someone was enjoying a Popsicle while sucking up the juice to keep it from running down their hand.

  My legs shook, and he gripped my ass, holding me in place on his tongue as my cum ran down his chin.

  “Damn, you taste good!” he said between slurps and licks. A tear slid from my eye because of the pressure he had on my clit. It was overbearing! I screamed as he locked my legs in his grip then applied even more pressure. My bud swelled up then throbbed even more, making me cum harder than the first time. He stood up then wiped his mouth off. He looked down at me and smirked.

  “I need a pussy-eating award for that one! Shorty, I had your ass ready to drown me! I felt like I was scuba diving!” he said smirking before he licked his lips.

  I unbuckled his pants then he slid them down along with his boxer-briefs. He took off his shirt and my eyes widened. He had my name tatted on his side in 3D letters with a rose vine going through it. The thorns from the rose looked like it was going into his skin with blood dripping from it.

  I traced my hand down his tattoo. “When did you get this?” I asked him.

  “Earlier. The shit hurt too. Out of all my tattoos I have, yours hurt the most,” he said. I mushed him. He pulled me close, kissing me with his hard-on pressed against my center. I reached down to massage it and almost drooled. I couldn’t wait to have his big dick buried deep inside my tunnel. The thought almost made me orgasm.

  “Show me where your bedroom is. You know, since this is my first time over here,” he said with attitude. I ignored him then pulled him upstairs to my bedroom.

  As soon as I hit the bed, Kenjay was on top of me kissing on my neck and my breasts. He held his dick at my entrance then slowly inserted it into me and I gasped. I dug my nails into his shoulders. He bit his bottom lip as he pushed further into me, stretching me open.

  “DAMN!” he said slowly, moving in and out of me. He gripped my hair then thrust further. My legs wrapped around his waist as he grinded slowly. Usually I liked it rough but I wanted to feel all of him.

  My walls gripped him as I slowly threw it back into him. We both moaned loudly as we grinded into each other. He pulled out then inserted himself all the way into me, going deeper than he ever had before. He moaned, kissing my neck. He hit my spot then my walls gripped his dick tighter, holding him in place. It was hard for him to move inside of me. I screamed as I climaxed to the point I couldn’t control my screams and moans. I was hoping that bitch Ebony heard me too.

  “SHIT!” Kenjay groaned, grinding into my spot deeper. This nigga knew how to work the hell out of his body. His arms flexed and his chest tightened as he went deeper. I whimpered as he popped a nipple into his mouth then latched onto it like a leech. He throbbed inside of me then pumped harder. He and I both came together. After a few moments of hard breathing, he kissed my lips.

  He got up then kissed my stomach. He looked at me with love-filled eyes. I felt bad all over again for leaving him and shutting him out the way I did. My emotional ass broke out into tears. My chest heaved up and down. My body trembled and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “I’m so sorry, Kenjay,” I sobbed.

  “I still love you, Latavia. But you do that shit again and I’m going to strangle your ass until you go limp. I put that on my mama! You don’t play about a nigga seed!” he said to me. “We still need to work on some shit though before we take that route again. I have some loose ends to tie up and you need to figure out how to accept me. I’m not talking about the hustling but me as your man. You need to find room for that. I’m not going to keep dealing with you leaving me when shit doesn’t go your way! I didn’t leave you when I found out you were married and had bipolar disorder! I dealt with a lot of your flaws and you have a problem with just ONE of mines!” he said.

  He went downstairs then came back with his ringing phone.

  “Yooooo!” he answered. “WHAT?” he yelled into the phone. “I’ll be right there!”

  He stormed down the stairs into the kitchen. I followed him with a sheet wrapped around me. Kenjay hurriedly got dressed.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “O’Shea got locked up for beating the shit out of Britain’s father!” he said.

  “Her daddy is slow. Why on earth would he do that?” I asked.

  “I’ll let Britain talk to you about that, Latavia, that’s not our business to discuss. My only concern is for my brother! Lock the door. I’ll call you later!” he said walking out.

  “These niggas never tell me shit!” I said out loud. I took a shower then got dressed in an Aztec brown and tan patterned stretch skirt, a brown camisole with a tan Kimono cardigan over it, tan platform sandals with gold accessories and big gold hoop earrings. I had my braids styled up into a bun. When I walked out of the door Ebony was out front watering the flowers. I switched past her giving her the “I just got dicked down” walk. She rolled her eyes at me. I smirked getting into my car. I put the window down.

  “Step your game up, bitch! I had my nigga in there about to drown! Unlike your dessert storm!” I said laughing, turning up the radio. I blasted Teyana Taylor’s “Maybe” as I sped down the street.

  I sent Britain a text telling her to call me when she had some time. I knew she was busy with O’Shea. Moments later my phone rang and it was Tejah.

  “Where have you been?” I asked her.

  “Bitcchhhhhhhhh! Let me tell you how O’Shea beat the shit out of Malore’s husband at the party earlier! I mean whipped that nigga’s ass like he stole something! Malore tried to pull him off, girl! This nigga pushed her ass out of the way then dragged this nigga into a room and locked the door, bitch! He was in there for ten minutes whipping his ass until the cops came. Oh, that’s not all, honey! Britain was ready to whip Malore’s ass, girl! I had to hold her back! Britain’s ass got some hood up in her too! She went from a classy bitch to a hood bitch in 0.1 seconds!” Tejah said, rambling on.

  “WHAT?” I asked.

  “Yes, girl! So, you know Jennifer, Malore’s little pet, tried to sneak Britain I guess to win some brownie points. I knocked that bitch out on her ass! I couldn’t wait till that bitch jumped out there!” Tejah said.

  “So, y’all just turned the party out?” I asked.

  “Yup! I know I might get fired and I know Britain is fired. Now, I really have to find someone to look at my designs. Britain can model those once I get it out there. I know the money is going to be funny for me but Britain man has money, so she will be good. I won’t be but I have to start somewhere,” she said.

  “Girl, I have a solution for that! Tee-Tee, Corey’s wife, had a plus-size boutique. Sell your clothes to her then we can model them at the fashion show Tee-Tee is going to have. When sisters stick together anything is possible! Malore who, bitch?” I asked. Then something registered.

  “Kenjay told me O’Shea was fighting Britain’s father. I thought Britain’s daddy was retarded?” I asked, not understanding.

  “I don’t know. There’s more to it than wha
t it is. The way O’Shea whipped that man’s ass it had to be personal and Britain knows all about it! Girl, it was an all-white party too! O’Shea had that man’s blood all over his clothes!” she said. I cringed.

  “But anyways, let’s hang out. I’m hungry and I need a drink. I’m going through good dick withdrawals!” she said. I hung up the phone. Half an hour later I pulled up to Tejah’s building. She sashayed out, swinging her weave and strutting like she was on the runway. Tejah was wearing jean shorts with a sleeveless white button-up shirt that was tied in the front, revealing some of her stomach. She had a few buttons undone showing some of her breasts. On her feet were some cute colorful sandals. Like always her face was beat and her pink glitter lipstick was popping.

  She posed on the side of my car being extra.

  “If they be like Tejah are you mad? I’m going to be like, bitch where?” she said flipping her inches and snapping her fingers. Now, usually when females act this bougie, it makes me sick. But with Tejah it was actually funny and cracked me up! You just had to love her.