“What the fuck y’all doing in here?” His narrowed gaze sweeps over us like he’s just caught a couple of home invaders.
“Last I checked, I still lived in this muthafucka,” I bark.
“You know what? I’ma catch up with you later, girl,” Kookie says.
“Hold up.” I reach out and remove the blunt from Kookie’s mouth. “I think I’ma need this shit.”
Not sticking around to argue, Kookie gets the fuck on, squeezing around Python at the bedroom door, since he makes it clear that his ass isn’t about to move on his own. But once she’s gone, his lips kick up into a smile. “What the hell is wrong with her scary ass?”
“Fuck her. Why didn’t you come to me if you doubted how down I was for the set?”
Python’s face twists. “Don’t come at me with no gossiping bullshit.” He moves into the room, tugging his white T over his head.
“So you don’t have a problem with me?”
“Why would I have a problem?”
“Oh, so we’re playing mind games now?” I charge, and roll my eyes. “I thought we were above that petty bullshit?”
Python’s face hardens while his upper lip twitches.
I study every inch of his ripped and tattooed body while he gets undressed. It’s funny that once upon a time, I’d looked to this man as just a means to an end, and he still is in a way, but he definitely means more to me now—more than I want to really admit.
“What, you want me to fall all out and beg you to leave these bitches alone? Is that it? At the very least that retarded bitch, Yolanda.”
“She’s not retarded.”
I quickly jump in his face. “What, you’re going to defend her to me, nigga? Is that what the fuck you’re about to do?”
“Go on now.” He pushes me away. “She’s carrying my seed.”
I toss up my hands. “Her and how many other bitches? Who the fuck is Melanie?”
Python’s face changes up, and I swear to God my heart drops. This bitch means something to him.
“See. You worried about the wrong muthafuckin’ thing,” he says with so much bass I swear the floor is rumbling. “Melanie is Melanie. She’s somebody who ain’t got shit to do with you.”
I don’t believe what the fuck I’m hearing.
Python’s gaze snags on the dress in my hand just as he reaches for a fresh pair of black jeans. “Going somewhere?”
“Don’t fuckin’ change the subject,” I snap.
Slowly, Python’s brows rise higher while the muscles in his chest make his tat python twitch. “Your fuckin’ tone gettin’ out of line.”
“So this is how you wanna play this shit? I’m tryna talk to you and you gone play stupid?”
Python stops undressing to stare me down. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
“Somebody I thought was my man. Turns out you’re just the community ho, slapping me with a big ole FUCK YOU sign on the back of my head.” I move up close to him and wave a finger in his face. “I’ve never disrespected you. NEVER. And this is how you roll? This is how you gonna treat me? Well, let me tell you something, nigga. You ain’t never gonna find another bitch like me. You better believe that shit. So while you got that fat bitch riding your shit, better check yourself. When the shit gets tough, who the fuck riding with you? Who’ll straight blast next to you? Huh? Any of them bitches you knocked up? Ever?”
Python’s face softens.
I shake my head. “You got me twisted.” I head toward the door, but Python snatches me by the wrist.
“Where you going?”
“Out. Just like you are,” I say, thrusting up my chin and now daring his ass to say some stupid shit.
Python shakes his head. “Nah. Nah. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t need permission.”
His jaw twitches as his grip tightens. “I don’t think you’re in the right mind to go partying tonight. You might do some shit you’ll regret.”
“Trust me, I ain’t gonna do nothing you won’t do.”
Python roughly jerks me up, and out of reflex, my hand rears back and delivers a stinging slap across his face. It’s like hitting stone. He doesn’t flinch nor does he let on that he even felt the blow. To add insult to injury, he laughs.
To my horror, tears start stinging my eyes. Don’t you dare cry in front of this muthafucka. Don’t fuckin’ do it.
Python’s smile spreads wider. “You’re gonna fuck around and make a nigga think you’re in love with him.”
“It’s always about you, ain’t it?” I jerk and try to pull myself free, but Python isn’t having any of that. “Well, go ego trip with your new trick down the way or that pregnant pig. I’m over it.”
“Pregnant?”
“Please, save the stupid act. It’s played out. I saw that bitch for myself.”
He tries looking confused for a moment, and I just start wildin’ out: kicking, punching. I swear on everything I own that if I had my gun on me, I’d turn this muthafucka into a crime scene. One of us has got to go.
Python releases my arm, but only so he can wrap his arm around my waist and lock me in place. “What? What you wanna do? You wanna leave?” He cocks his head and studies me while I continue to struggle for freedom. It feels as if his arm is trying to slice me in half. “Nah. You don’t wanna leave. You wanna go from wifey to wife.”
That shit gets my attention, and I finally stop kicking and our eyes lock. “You wanna show me how down you are? You really want my last name?”
I pull in deep breaths while nodding at the same time.
“Your sister,” he finally says, evenly. “Handle that shit.” He releases me. “Do that, and I’ll give you my last name. Word is bond.”
A corner of my lips curl when I see that he’s serious. “Done deal.”
40
Melanie
It’s a fucking miracle I have a Friday night off—and what better way to spend that shit than to have your man stroke, suck, and lick the stress out of you all night long?
“Damn, baby, you got some good pussy,” Fat Ace moans against my thighs.
“Eat it up, baby,” I pant, rotating my hips as his thick lips smack against my throbbing clit. No lie, the nigga eats pussy like it’s a bucket of KFC. I struggle to keep the noise down, because Christopher is a light sleeper. But tonight, Momma needs this nut in a bad way. The job has been stressing me out, my bills are all over the place, and Python is turning into a bugaboo, blowing my phone up so much that I keep that shit on vibrate. When the nigga had me, he acted like he didn’t have time for me. Now that I’ve finally tossed his gangsta ass back to those gun-toting chicken heads he loves so much, he’s blowing my cell up every time I turn around.
Fuck him.
I’ve wasted too much time on that nigga and those sweet lies he’s been whispering in my ear since he first busted my cherry. It’s time to move on with a man who knows how to appreciate what he’s got. A thug nigga who always makes time for me and mine.
“Ahhhh. Ahhh.” I start crawling up the bed, feeling my nut rise all the way up from my toes. Ace is really working my pink baby like a full-time job, and I swear if I had any money, I’d leave this big nigga a tip. “Ahhh. Ahhh.” I can’t breathe. I swear I can’t. With each inch I take, Ace follows. The two fingers he has stirring my honey quickly turns into three and then four. Pretty soon, he’s going to be fisting my shit and I’m going to shoot off like a fuckin’ rocket.
I like shit that rough. Two seconds later, Ace doesn’t disappoint. His fist pumps so sweetly that my pussy turns into a water hydrant, and his face is right there to get hosed down. My mind spins while he climbs up from in between my legs. I continue to gush, watching this huge mammoth of a man hover above me, I anticipating his fat cock like a crackhead getting ready for her next hit.
Python’s dick game is crazy, but a bitch can’t sleep on what Fat Ace is working with either. The minute his thick, smooth cock enters me, my s
ugar walls melt. I wrap my arms around his tree trunk of a neck and my legs around his waist and hold on for the muthafuckin’ ride.
“Tear it up, baby.” I suck his right earlobe into my mouth and scrape my teeth along the tender flesh. As expected, I can feel an extra inch stretch my inner walls, and tears of ecstasy slide from the corners of my eyes.
“Like this?” Fat Ace growls.
His hips drill me oh so lovely. “Fuck, yeah.” I try to catch my breath, but it’s only second to getting this next nut. An hour later, we’re still going at it. My head is hanging over the edge of the bed while Ace saws his big meat in and out my mouth like it’s a second pussy. His mouth is busy bathing and sucking on my polished toes. There’s always something new with this nigga, and I got to admit, I kind of like being surprised.
Finally, Ace tenses up. “Oh, shit. Open wide, baby. Here it comes.”
I greedily stretch my mouth open and gulp down his gooey candy with relish. There’s so much of it, I’m in hog heaven.
Ace tosses my words back at me. “Eat it up, baby.” He rubs his dick around my face, smearing his semen into my skin.
It’s all good. Nothing like protein to keep a woman’s face glowing. He goes to the bathroom and brings a wet towel to wipe off my face and then lies down so we can spoon.
When I steal a few minutes in the shower, my mind goes back to Python’s trifling ass. What the hell is wrong with me? My pussy is still aching from some-good ass dick and I’m still thinking about his ass.
Maybe it’s true. A woman never gets over her first love. No. I’m just a glutton for punishment. That’s what’s up. I close my eyes and shake my head, and the tears that flow blend with the hot water that pelts down from the showerhead. Despite my tears, I’m still determined to keep Python in my rearview.
A cold breeze causes an army of goose bumps to pimple my skin, and I turn my head to see Fat Ace easing his hunky, muscular frame into the shower with me.
“Figured you could use some company,” he says, grinning.
I force on a smile. If I keep faking this shit, then maybe I’ll start believing I’m happy. “I could always use some help reaching my back.” This is just an invitation for us to add soap to our fucking frenzy.
I can appreciate a brother who can put in this much work. After rinsing off, this big nigga carries me back to the bed.
“Damn shame,” he mumbles, running his hands over my erect nipples.
“What?”
“You know what, Officer Johnson.” He chuckles.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t you start that shit.” My irritation only seems to amuse him until I start to pull away.
“Whoa. Whoa. Hold up.” He pulls me back. “No need to get mad. I ain’t tryna fuck up our flow. Po-po or not, I’m going to be tapping that ass again in a few minutes.”
“Is that right?” I smile and wiggle my rump at him. “Damn, nigga. You must’ve had your Wheaties today.”
“Nah. You got something extra in that pink monster that has this thug strung out, baby. That’s what’s up.” His hands move from my breasts to the slushy mess between my legs, and he slips his finger inside. “You’d done fuck up and got a nigga wanting to come around more often.” He brushes his lips along the column of my neck. “You know, some time when lil man is up, can you introduce us?”
My warm fuzzies disappear. I’ve never introduced any sideline nigga to my son. Sure, I’ll creep when he’s passed out, but this other shit—what Fat Ace is talking about—can only lead to problems and complications.
“Ahhh. It’s like that.” Fat Ace chuckles and shakes his head. “That must mean that his daddy is still in the picture.”
His fingers slip out of my pussy, and I grab his wrist before he can pull his arm from around my waist. “I didn’t say all of that.”
“You didn’t have to, Ma,” he says so smooth that I can’t really tell if he’s angry. “It is what it is. But, damn, if you’re gonna be raising my seed now, then I should know what the hell else is going on in this muthafuckin’ crip.”
I flip over in his arms and try to get a good look at his harsh features while we continue this awkward pillow talk. Big and ugly but his body is killing it. “It’s complicated.”
“Does he still come around here?”
“No.”
He doesn’t immediately react to that. In fact, he stares me down like a human lie detector. “When was the last time he came around?”
“Why the fuck does that matter? It’s over. He’s not welcome here anymore.” I know I’m getting heated, but I can’t help it. I invited this brother over here tonight so I can get Python off my mind.
“Forget it. If you ain’t gonna shoot straight with me.” He shrugs his massive shoulders. “We can just squash this shit and I can just roll up out of here. It ain’t that serious.”
“It ain’t serious, but a few minutes ago you were asking to meet my son?”
“I was serious. You are the one over here running game and thinking your ass is slick.”
“What?”
“I call it like I see it.” He sits up. “You wanted some dick and you got some dick. End of story.”
“It’s not like that.”
“No? Then who’s lil man’s daddy?”
My heart drops. “What damn difference—”
“You bitches are all the same.” He keeps shaking his big bowling ball–sized head.
“Time the fuck out!” I hop up on my knees in the bed so I can at least be eye level with his ass. “Ain’t no man gonna sit up in my muthafuckin’ bed and start calling me a whole bunch of bitches. NIGGA, IS YOU CRAZY?”
Fat Ace turns his head away from me, and I can see the muscles in his jaw twitching. “Get out my face with that.” His baritone dips lower than usual. It’s a sign that I’m skating on the edge of this Vice Lord whaling on me, but right now I really can’t say I give a fuck.
“You know what? You need to go.” I attempt to shove him off the bed, but of course he doesn’t budge an inch. “Get to stepping.” I plop back down and start kicking him.
“BITCH, I DONE TOLD YOU!”
Fat Ace grabs one of my legs, and I send the heel of my free foot sailing against the bottom of his chin. But the shit doesn’t phase his ass, and it feels like I just broke my foot.
“What, you feel better now, bitch?”
He snatches my other leg and then yanks them both apart so hard I feel like a wishbone that he’s snapped in half. “Get off of me, muthafucka!” I start swinging, slapping his face. “I ain’t your bitch!”
He just laughs in my face as he hovers above me, his heavy cock threatening to slide into my open pussy.
“You ain’t my bitch, baby?” he asks, releasing my legs and now trying to grab hold of my hands. “You sure look like my bitch to me.”
“Fuck you!”
“Funny. That’s exactly what I had in mind.” He chuckles. “But not until you tell me that you’re my bitch.”
This nigga must be crazy. I ain’t saying shit.
“Oh, you gonna be stubborn, huh?” He pins both my hands with one of his above my head and then shoves his free hand in between our bodies, where he starts playing with my clit again. “Ah, yeah. Your ass is wet as hell and you up here talking shit. This pussy knows you’re my bitch. Don’t it?”
Suddenly, my ass ain’t struggling too hard, and I’m biting down on my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. But the shit doesn’t work.
“Uh-huh. Look at you.” He removes his hand and then starts teasing me with the head of his cock. “You want some more of this dick, don’t you?”
Don’t say shit. “Yessss.”
“How bad do you want it?”
He squeezes a little bit of the tip inside and then pulls it back out. My moan turns into a whine of disappointment.
“If you want this dick, you know what you gotta say.” He squeezes in and pulls out.
I whine some more.
“Say it.” Squeeze. Pull.
Don’t say it.
Squeeze. Pull. “Say it. Say you’re my bitch.” Squeeze. Pull.
“I’m…I’m…oooh. Stop playing, baby.”
He chuckles. “I’ll stop playing when you tell me you wanna be my bitch.” Squeeze. Pull.
I suck in a breath because I’m feenin’ bad. “I’m your bitch, baby. I’m your bitch. Now give me that sweet dick, Daddy.” I try to push down on his shit because I’m tired of his ass teasing me.
“You want it? Here you go, bitch!” With one powerful thrust, he slams into my pussy and damn near clogs my throat. But the minute this nigga starts grinding, my ass is as lost as a muthafucka inside my head. Damn. Why in the fuck have I been wasting all that time with Python’s stupid ass when I could’ve been getting sprung off this nigga? “Say you’re my nasty bitch,” he orders, pounding my shit with no remorse.
“I’M YOUR NASTY BITCH! I’M YOUR NASNASTY BITCH!”
“I’m gonna keep filling this pussy up with babies. This is my shit, and I better not see no other nigga coming around this muthafucka.” He sucks in a long breath between his teeth, but his hips never stop. “You hear me, bitch? You tell Chris’s daddy he better not come around this bitch no more.”
“Y-yesss.” He feels so good, my damn kidneys are having a fuckin’ orgasm.
“Whose pussy is this baby?”
“Y-yours.”
“What’s my name baby?”
“Mmm…ooh!”
“What’s my name, bitch?”
“MAAASSSOONN.”
“What?”
“MASON!”
Suddenly there’s a loud BANG! I look up to see the door kicked in and Python aiming his gun at Fat Ace.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
I’m stunned and can’t move.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Fat Ace jerks out of my pussy and makes a dive toward the nightstand for his piece.
“YOU’RE A DEAD MUTHAFUCKA!” POW! Python’s gun sounds like a cannon.
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