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Stud Princess, Notorious Vendettas

Page 9

by N'Tyse


  Deja quickly punched in the security code on the key pad, deactivating the alarm. She zoomed in on the peephole to get a close-up of the five foot ten individual staring back at her. When she flung the door open, her expression gave an unwelcomed greeting.

  “What up, boo? I see you still looking fine as hell!”

  Deja’s face held its sour stare. “Toni, what are you doing here?” she asked as she peeped further outside her door, making sure none of her neighbors were out like usual.

  Toni sucked in both her lips and then grazed her teeth across the bottom one, taking in Deja’s new body. She was sexier than she last remembered, but still pigeon-toed, five feet eight inches and at least a buck forty with a curvaceous backside. She was a five-star chick on the real. Toni used to do things with Deja she never attempted with anyone else. And the very thing she definitely couldn’t forget—Deja was an undercover freak!

  “Ain’t you glad to see me?” Toni beamed. “I mean, damn. I should be getting a hug, kiss, or something like that.” Toni’s mouth quivered with every flashback. She could bite the shit out of Deja’s ass right now. That’s how sweet she looked in those tight ass aerobic tights and top. And the way her nipples stood at attention, Toni was positively, without a doubt, sure that Deja wasn’t wearing a bra. “Damn, girl, what you been doing? Pilates or something?”

  Deja stood there unamused and suddenly sick to her stomach. Agitated, she asked, “Toni, what do you want with me? Why are you here?” Her hand rested on the door knob.

  “Come on now. This the type of welcome I get? Don’t be like that, baby. We too good for that.” Toni took baby steps forward, moving closer to the woman she used to call hers.

  Deja eased back into her house, the door barely open. “Look Toni, you know you ain’t supposed to be around me so why in the hell are you over here?” Deja reminded, ready to whip out the restraining order she had placed on Toni last year.

  Toni threw up her hands. “Damn! I ain’t tryna start no trouble for you, ma. I’m just checking on you. You all right? Life treating you good? Shit, I ain’t seen your ass in what, a year?” Toni exhaled. “You actin’ like you scared of me or something.” She continuously looked Deja up and down, undressing her like the good old days. Only this time her eyes had to do all the work. “I’ve been thinking about us lately. You remember how we used to kick it?” She was damn near begging Deja to reminisce back to those wonderful times that seemed like only she could recollect. She subjected herself to a calmer approach. “I made a few bad choices,” she confessed, “but God damn, a nigga done changed.”

  Deja rolled her eyes upward, her left brow waving the people’s eyebrow. This whole routine was all too familiar, and the same way she was sick of it then is the same way she was sick of it now. She wasn’t buying into any of Toni’s bullshit tactics to try and win her back. She’d heard it all before. And suddenly Toni wanted to admit to being wrong. Please. Now was not the time for confession session, so she could save that mess for church. As far as Deja was concerned, Toni could pocket that bullshit for somebody who gave a damn. She gasped as she replayed the flashbacks of the broken noses, the black eyes, even all the hair she lost from just putting up with Toni’s abusive and jealous, bipolar ass. Deja wanted to grab the mop from behind her door and give it her best shot, right up her ex-girlfriend’s ass.

  “Toni, I gotta go. Thanks for being even slightly concerned, but I’m not going there with you again.”

  “What? You got somebody up in there?” Toni asked, stepping back and doing a double take. She spotted the chameleon painted Chevy Caprice parked in the driveway beside Deja’s red Honda Civic. “Oh, I get it,” she pointed to Deja. “You tied up,” she gathered, unleashing a phony sense of concern. “I’m cutting into your mix and shit, huh? That’s what that is, D? You occupied up in there?”

  Deja stood there hesitating to speak another word, although she’d already said more than enough. Her face was as blank as a drawing board, but inside she was applauding Toni for finally getting the picture. She was now even gladder that she had Sand’s car towed to her house instead of to the address on the insurance card, because now it was proving to be the perfect prop. Although no one else was in the house with her, she knew it was probably safer for her to lead Toni into believing there was.

  “So, you giving up my pussy?” Toni whispered, feeling disgusted by her own accusation. “You letting another motherfucka have my goods? Hit my shit!” she lashed out.

  Deja remained quiet. Even the birds that crowded around her front yard tree could figure this one out. It wasn’t a secret that Deja contemplated seeing other people before, during, and after their breakup. And it wasn’t even up for discussion because what she did was her own business. She didn’t have to answer to Toni, nor did she owe her an explanation of any kind. They were finished the day she laid her hands on her for the very last time.

  “I can’t believe this shit,” Toni sneered loudly.

  “Toni!” Deja said again. “I really have to go.”

  Toni stepped back onto the welcome mat. She inhaled the aromatic lavender and chamomile scent that seeped from Deja’s pores, arousing all her senses, and briefly, Toni found herself fantasizing. She recalled the way Deja’s pussy used to melt in her mouth just like cotton candy on ice. The way it curved to her lips and cupped perfectly underneath her chin, making going down on Deja appear as a piece of sexually explicit artwork that not even some of the most prominent artists of history could portray. Toni savored the moment, not wanting to let go and accept that Deja had moved on without her.

  Quiet wasn’t a part of Toni’s nature, so she had to say what was on her mind, even if Deja wasn’t trying to hear it. “What I ever do to you? You won’t even give me a fucking chance?” Toni pleaded. She opened her arms out. “I’m good now. I done been to anger management and all that shit, baby girl. Give daddy another chance. I promise I won’t do that shit again.” Toni was willing to get on one knee and beg if it came down to it. “Don’t do me that way, D. That’s my pussy right there,” Toni pointed to Deja’s middle. “My name all over that shit,” she said arrogantly.

  Deja looked up at the sky. Last night’s rain left its imprint and though the friendly breeze that slid up and down her neck assured her she was still alive and that this wasn’t a cold day in hell, for a second there, she thought that’s exactly where she was, because Toni was the devil calling in for a favor. She erased her conceptual distractions and faced Toni with a harder truth.

  “First of all, you can quit screaming before you wake up my damn neighbors. And second of all, my pussy, will never belong in your mouth, again. So quit claiming it. Now do yourself a favor and find somebody else to harass.” She surfed her mental rolodex. “And does Ms. Benefield know you’re here, violating your probation?” Deja interrogated with a roll of the neck.

  Toni picked up her face. “You funny. You real fucking funny. You must think I give a damn about these white folks. And if I wanted to harass your ass, you’d feel it, baby. Believe that. Know that!” Toni held up her hands and backed away from the door. The mention of her PO helped her reconsider the more important things in life, like her freedom. “I’ma let you make it with all that fly shit. You think you too good now ’cause your daddy done moved you out the ghetto and put you out here with these bougie, saddity-ass red necks?” Toni’s head moved up and down as she spoke with much conviction. “You can take the girl out the hood, but you can’t take the hood out the girl.” Toni flashed that permanent reminder that Deja must’ve needed. “This was us right here. All day every day. I love you, girl.”

  Inside Toni’s left wrist was a heart with the letters D and T in the center. Toni had used the end of a pencil eraser to trigger the abrasion, persistently rubbing layers of skin away, shaping a slightly deformed heart with her and Deja’s initials carved inside of it. That heart signified a time in Deja’s life when she and death became best friends, and the people around her became her enemies. It was her lowest point
. A time when she hated herself for allowing love to weaken her the way that it had. Now, there was nothing that could reduce her to that way of thinking again, not even Toni and her phony lullabies.

  “My father moved me out here to get me far away from your sick ass!”

  “Listen at you. You’re even starting to talk like these motherfuckas.” Toni shook her head sadly, a visible frown painted her disappointment. “I had hope for you, girl,” she said with a twisted grin. “But you ain’t learned shit since I been away.”

  “Fuck you! Are you finished?” Deja’s tempo changed drastically, competing against Toni’s. “Take your ass back to the projects and leave me the fuck alone before I call the police on your ass,” she hollered, her threat turning into a promise. “I bet you understand that, now don’t you?”

  “I ain’t scared of no law! Like I’m supposed to run and hide,” Toni said, out-shouting Deja. She slapped her hands against her jeans. It was disheartening to believe that her luck had run out and that Deja didn’t want any part of her. “So, I guess it falls like that now?”

  Deja didn’t say a word.

  Toni tucked in her lower lip. “Fuck it. Save it. I’ll roll,” she told Deja. She pushed her finger into her chest, taking baby steps backwards toward her F150 truck she had parked alongside the curb. “You do this to me?” she asked, shaking her head solemnly. “You can’t get rid of me, D! I’m in here,” Toni said, pointing to her own head. “I’m locked in that motherfucka and I’m the only one with a key.” She closed her fist then blew some steam off into it like a microphone check. “But it’s all gravy, baby,” she hollered, fanning her bling in the air. “You don’t fuck with me no more after all the shit we done been through! Ha ha. Deja a brand new woman now, y’all!” she shouted. “Miss New and Improved got a new attitude!” Toni sang out, mocking Deja. “I’m out, boo. You ain’t gotta worry about me no more. That was ya chance right there.”

  Deja shook her head in pity. In a way she felt sorry for Toni because she realized that the woman needed all the help she could get. And to think there was a time when she worshiped the ground Toni walked on. She had been her Savior. Her lover. Her companion. All she was now was a damn nut-case who needed to be admitted to the psych ward. As soon as both Toni’s feet were off the ground and in her truck, Deja slammed the door behind her, throwing herself up against it. She exhaled, thankful that the drama finally tore its ass. She peeked out the shutters to see if anyone had come out to see who the idiot was that insisted on airing their dirty laundry publicly. Thankfully, the coast was clear.

  Had Deja known that Toni would find her, she would have asked her father to make sure her house was unlisted just as her phone line was. But none of that mattered because Toni was finally out of her hair, once and for all.

  Deja couldn’t believe how her day had already gotten off to such a bad start. She could only hope that the rest of the day wouldn’t pan out like this. Not when she had Erykah Badu hosting Magical Mic night at Club Sandrene’s tonight. Here she was dealing with Toni’s crazy ass when she had bigger problems to deal with. Number one being her outfit, number two being her indecisiveness on which poetic piece she would share with the crowd. In just the couple of months that Deja operated Sandrene’s, she managed to rake in a substantial crowd of openmic lovers. She thought that would add flavor to the club’s mix, and it did, ten times over. Sandrene’s was now one of the hottest spots on Saturday nights. It was a great place to treat your lady to or to simply hang out and mingle.

  Deja closed and opened her eyes. Just as the painful recollections of Toni began to ignite her memory, her telephone rang, rescuing her from that involuntary trip back down memory lane.

  “Hello?”

  “Deja! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call your butt all night,” Nessa went off.

  “I was out running errands,” Deja lied. She walked over to the refrigerator and dispensed a couple of ice cubes. She had gotten warm and her mouth was feeling dry. She slid both dripping cubes across her forehead, down the sides of her face, and around her lips. Maybe she set the temperature too high or perhaps Toni really did work up her nerves and shot her levels up just that quickly. “Never mind that,” Deja finished. “You are not going to believe who just left from over here,” she promised her friend, still stunned herself that Toni was just on her doorstep, putting all her business on blast. “Toni had the nerve to show up over here and—”

  “Girl, you ain’t hearing me!” Nessa spoke louder, cutting Deja off. “I’ve been trying to call you all night because Sand called!”

  If nothing else grabbed Deja’s attention, that did. “Sand called?” Deja felt her heart dancing through her shirt and everything that had just happened didn’t even matter anymore. It was as good as forgotten. Chills shot up her spine and that humming between her legs was calmed just from hearing Nessa speak Sand’s name.

  “Just get your butt over here so you can hear this message she left on my machine for you.”

  Deja didn’t ask questions. She’d save them for once she got there. “Just a quick shower and I’ll be right over,” she said, unsure as to where Sand may have been when she called.

  “Okay. I’ll be here for a while longer and then I’m off to the shop. I have a client coming in at ten.”

  “I’ll be there.” Deja hung up the phone and raced for the bathroom. She adjusted the shower temperature to what her body agreed with. Stepping inside, she allowed those raining waters to stroke her skin and dance on the cliff of her nipples. She thought about Sand as she relaxed her shoulders, extending her chest beyond its natural stretch. She begged the waters to gobble her breasts in one greedy swallow as she squeezed her twins and rubbed the bar of soap over them. Even through the lather, her breasts glistened like tiny light bulbs under the skylight over her walk-in shower. The thick lather slid down her body and strangely it reminded her of Sand licking her, tasting her. She was becoming so wet that she could feel her sudsy pussy blowing bubbles. She escorted her hands to where that celebration was taking place.

  Why did it always boil down to a desperate moment like this? Moments where she had to rely on a two-finger discount to get her off. She glanced over at the beautiful mounted mirror that covered half the bathroom’s stoned walls. She observed the way her breasts complimented each other, hand in hand. She envisioned Sand moving between her breasts and her desiring flesh floating to her lips like magnets. It was all so real and so gratifying just knowing what was in store as the water continuously flowed over her temple, drinking up its sweetest temptation.

  Deja seductively pulled at her nipples with her left hand. Her pussy began administering orders and she obediently began inching her fingers inside. She was wet, too damn wet to be all alone at a time like this. She withdrew her fingers, but the urge to please herself lured them back in. Before Deja could count to three, she was working her middle finger in and out of her juiciness like a mad machine. “Oh yes,” she moaned in pleasure, feeling herself being taken to another place. She bit down softly on her bottom lip. “That’s right. Fuck me, Sand. Fuck me like I’m yours!”

  Between the four walls of her bathroom, Sand was fucking her shitless. “Aww yes …” she cried out, pumping herself faster. Suddenly, her phone rang again, interrupting her private session, but Deja refused to let that drive away her nut and prolong her goal. Her hands were playing pitty-pat with her middle. She wasn’t stopping. She was already there. Now all she had to do was cum.

  Ding!Ding! Ding!

  “Fuck!” she yelled. Deja tried tuning everything out of her mind that wasn’t involved in the matter at hand. She controlled her balance. She could feel the waves of her moving climax putting up a Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield fight.

  Her phone rang. Ring! Ring, Ring!

  Then her doorbell. Ding! Ding! Ding!

  This couldn’t be happening. Deja tried ignoring the phone and doorbell, but it wasn’t working. She could feel her nut getting discouraged. “No, no, no. Um, right th
ere. Almost there,” she told it.

  Ring! Ring! Ring!

  “Wait!” she yelled. She considered the possibilities of it being Nessa telling her that Sand had called again. She ended her play session, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped herself in a towel. In the fogged mirror, she acknowledged her reflection. Her once straightened hair was all wet, just as wet as her pussy. The phone rang again. Deja hurried to it. Just as she figured it would, the ringing stopped right before she could lift the receiver from its cradle.

  Ding! Ding! Ding!

  She scurried for the door. If it was Toni again, God help her because Deja was ready to call the police and have her crazy ass thrown in jail. She wasn’t about to put up with her shit again. In a voice so angelic, but clearly upset, “Who is it?” she called out with her ear partially to the door. When no one said anything, Deja stared down the eye of the peephole. She didn’t recognize the lady and young man on her porch, but she unchained her lock and cracked the door open anyway.

  “May I help you with something?” Deja asked. She trusted that her eyes were not deceiving her. She blinked water from her eyes, pulled the hair that clung to her face behind her ears, and swallowed the huge lump forming in her throat. Uncertainty clouded her judgment. “Sand?”

  “What’s up, Deja? Long time no see,” Sand smiled, shifting the large duffel bag she had from one hand to the other. “Can we, uh, come in for a second?”

  Deja felt lightheaded. Faint. Her mind had to have been playing tricks on her and she couldn’t formulate a sentence to save her life. “Um, yeah. I uh … was just getting ready—” She stopped and caught her breath then exhaled deeply. “Wow. This is a big surprise,” she managed.

  “I’m Ty, and ma’am, look here, I have to pee really, really, bad. You mind if I use your bathroom?” she interrupted rudely.

  Deja caught a whiff of the attitude in Ty’s voice. “Sure. Come on in.” Deja opened the door wider, looking upside Ty’s head at the outrageous hairdo, trying her hardest to not stare at her swollen black eye and busted lip. “It’s right back there to your right.” She allowed room for Ty to pass.

 

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