Every Thug Needs A Lady (Thugs)

by Clark, Wahida

  “Well, I prefer Tash. It’s sexy; you are sexy. Plus it starts with the letter T. Roz don’t fit you. Anyway I got tickets to go see Musiq and Jill Scott tomorrow. After you braid my hair can we go to New York to shop? I want you to kick it with me today and tomorrow. I’m on my way over. Tash! You heard what I said, right?”

  “Trae, why can’t you call me a little later?”

  “C’mon Tash! All you gotta do is braid my hair and the rest is on me. You might as well get up ’cause I’ll be knockin’ on your door in about fifteen minutes.” He hung up.

  “Aaargh!” she gritted her teeth. She hung up the phone and sat up in the bed. “This nigga is crazy and arrogant,” she mumbled. She stumbled out of bed and went to turn the shower on.

  After she jumped out of the shower and brushed her teeth she pulled her hair into a ponytail and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. She turned the ringer on the phone back on because she remembered she was expecting a call regarding the hottest cities for athletes. After she made up her bed she heard knocking at her door. She opened the door, stepping aside so that Trae could get past her. But instead he stood right in front of her.

  “How did you get up here?” she asked.

  “The front door was open. The lady was sweeping the steps.” He looked at her face, saw the attitude, and gave her a lazy grin. She looked for the diamond near the tip of his tongue and thought about how it would feel, then immediately disregarded the thought. “I know you ain’t mad. Look, I brought you some coffee and donuts.”

  “I’m not a cop, Trae. Plus, I don’t even drink coffee.” She stubbornly remained at the door.

  “What is it that you would have preferred me to bring?” He kissed her on the cheek and noticed that her nipples were hard. “You might as well close the door because I’m not leaving.”

  Trae had been patiently waiting for her to cool off from her relationship with Nikayah. Nikayah was his boy and that nigga, but he wanted Tasha real bad and could see that she was someone worth waiting for. He liked the fact that she held it down for a nigga even when he got locked down. He knew Nikayah was playing her, and so it would be just a matter of time before she found out. And she did. For real, Nikayah had fucked up by sending Trae over to check on her. He had been wanting to get with her since the first time he saw her. He couldn’t help it. He had been looking for a square to settle down with and Tasha was perfect. She was fine, smart, sexy and loyal, and she understood what it was like for a nigga to be out there hustlin’. He had given her three months to get over Nikayah and was now determined to stake his claim. She was either feeling him or she wasn’t. That night when she was out at the club with Shanna he could tell that it was on even though she was hesitant. He was planning on finding out today what was up.

  She slammed the door and looked at his big-ass Afro. “Trae, I just did your hair.”

  “I know. But we going out tomorrow night so I need it done over,” he said, looking her up and down. “Damn, girl! You look good even in sweats and a T-shirt. How tall are you?”

  “Why? What does that have to do with anything? Come sit over here so that I can hurry up and get rid of you,” she hissed, grabbing a chair and motioning for him to sit down. This nigga is too fine, she said to herself. He had on a black Sean Jean jean vest with no shirt and some baggy jeans to match, with black Timbs. Straight-up thuggish. His muscles were flexing, and his chocolate, dark brown skin was nice and smooth. Those eyes. Those lips.

  “How tall are you?” he asked again.

  “How tall are you?”

  “I’m six feet.”

  “Well I’m five-nine,” she answered, fingering his hair. “Did you wash it?”

  “I got it washed last night.”

  “Why didn’t you get whoever washed it to braid it?”

  “Because I wanted you to braid it. Damn, girl, you cranky as hell. I guess you aren’t really a morning person. What? You gotta problem with braiding it for me?”

  “Yes, I do. You come over unannounced 8:39 in the morning, and get me out of my nice warm bed.”

  “It’s 8:50 and I told you I’ll make it worth your while. But before we get started, pop in your Love Jones CD for me.”

  “Who told you I had Love Jones?”

  “I saw it.”

  “Why are you looking all in my stuff?”

  “It’s only CDs.”

  She got up, grabbed the African Pride hair grease, a pick and a comb. Then she flipped through the CDs until she found Love Jones and popped it in. “How do you want it?”

  “Hook a nigga up. I gotta show Allen Iverson how this is done. I’m wearing a suit tomorrow.”

  “Why are you here so early, Trae?”

  He started laughing. “Damn Tash, you really trippin’ about this 8:30 action. I just wanted to catch you before you went to see your man.” He figured he’d just throw that out.

  “So what ... your intentions were to stop me from going?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s cold, Trae. He’s supposed to be your boy.”

  “He’s a business partner. You haven’t been going to see him anyway. What’s up with that?”

  “That’s the past. I don’t even want to talk about it.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

  “Yup. It’s like that.” That made Trae’s heart smile. “Now will you please hold your head still?” His cell phone rang. “Don’t you dare answer it until I’m finished.”

  He turned the cell phone off, but left his pager on. “You still got feelings for Nikayah?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Answer my question.”

  “Why is it so important to you that I answer that question?”

  “Why are you giving me such a hard time? You know I’m feeling you Tash, and I’m trying hard not to step on you and Nikayah’s shit. Now if it was somebody other than Nikayah, I’d just say ‘fuck him.’ I would have stepped all over him whether you still had feelings or not. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “What if Nikayah still has feelings for me?”

  “Fuck him. I’m tryin’a find out what’s up with you even though I can see that you fuckin’ with me, playin’ mind games and tryin’ to be all hard.”

  She pretended as if she didn’t hear that last comment because he sure was right. She wasn’t giving in too easy.

  “What if the situation was reversed? You were locked down and I was your woman, and he was out here?”

  “If I was locked down you still would be my woman. I wouldn’t do no shit that would make you cut me off. You been with that nigga for how long?”

  “You are nosy, aren’t you? You know the answer to that ques-tion.”

  “What’s it been? Three, four years?”

  “Almost five.”

  “Damn! You hold it down for a nigga, don’t you?”

  “What are we playing fifty questions? Besides I said I didn’t want to talk about him.”

  He ignored her. “So what’s up? Am I stepping on my man’s toes or what?”

  “What do you think?”

  “You don’t want to know what I think.”

  “I know what you think,” she said.

  “Good. So you know what’s up and that I think we’ll discuss this later. But right now I’m taking you shopping in New York, and tomorrow night I’m taking you out.”

  “I know what you think,” she pressed.

  “A’ight then. Since you want me to ask, tell me. What do I think?”

  “You don’t give a fuck whether I still have feelings for him or not. You’re just going to push your way into my space regardless. Rather pushy, wouldn’t you say?”

  “You like for a nigga to be pushy, don’t you? What? So I guess that means you just ain’t gonna give me the pussy. I’ma have to take it, right?”

  “Whatever turns you on.”

  “You know you turn me on, but I bet before it’s all over, you’re gonna be begging for me to hit it. I won’t have to take it.”<
br />
  No, that nigga didn’t go there.

  “You wish. I see you got jokes or you smoking something. I know you’re used to having your way, but you ain’t hittin’ this.”

  “Aight. We’ll see,” he smirked.

  It took her a little over an hour to finish. Afterwards she greased his scalp and then stood in front of him to check out her handiwork.

  Damn, this cocky-ass nigga is fine, she kept thinking to herself. “Am I straight?” he asked.

  “You straight. Tell Iverson’s stylist to holla at this playa for some lessons.”

  Before she could back away, he put both hands on her waist and guided her to straddle his lap. “Come here.”

  “What do you think you’re doing, Trae?” she said, not resisting.

  Without taking his eyes off hers he said, “I just want to talk to you.” He grabbed her butt with both hands and pulled her right up on his dick and began rotating her hips in a slow and subtle manner. She watched the muscles in his biceps flex while fighting the desire to wrap her legs around his waist. “Trae, why are you holding me so tight?”

  “Because when I make you my woman, I’m never letting you go.” She slid her hands down on top of his to see if she could pry them loose, but he was holding on tight and still rotating her hips to grind on his dick.

  Damn, this feels so good, she said to herself.

  “Trae, I thought you wanted to talk,” she whispered while trying again to pry his hands loose.

  “I do,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  “So talk, because your dick is getting very hard. And it is feeling so good.”

  “I’m a’ight. We both got on clothes.”

  I’m not a’ight, her pussy screamed. She was trying to be cool, but the shit was feeling better and better. He was guiding her hips to apply the right amount of pressure. This nigga really is bold. Heaven help me.

  “Tell me how you like it, Tash. What do I have to do to make you climb the walls?”

  She slid her hands down once again to see if she could loosen his grip. “Trae, let me go.” Her voice was now trembling. He held on even tighter, leaned up, and began biting her nipples through her T-shirt. She arched her back and closed her eyes. He wasn’t biting hard and he wasn’t being gentle. It was just right. She was covered with goose bumps. The palms of her hands and her top lip were sweating.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BRRNG! BRRNG! As if on cue, his pager went off and the house phone rang as he started sucking on her neck.

  “Trae, I need to get that.” He reluctantly loosened his grip allowing her to slide off him and go pick up the wall phone in the kitchen. She grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper. It was the market research rep giving her the demographics on areas that had clusters of athletes.

  Trae followed her into the kitchen and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She was trying to concentrate on the phone call but Trae’s hard dick was feeling good as he pressed up against her butt. He slid his hand down inside her panties and ran his middle finger up and down her pussy and then circled her clit.

  “Can you hold on, please?” she said into the phone, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. Trae was playing with her pussy and she was trying not to scream.

  “Come for me, Tash,” he whispered in her ear, loving her wet and juicy pussy. She was squeezing the phone tighter. Her mouth wanted to say “stop,” but her pussy was saying “work those fingers a little faster.”

  “C’mon, ma, why you trying to hold back?” he whispered, while kissing her neck and sliding his hand under her T-shirt to play with her nipples.

  “No, Trae. Wait,” she moaned as he put passion marks on her neck and massaged her clit a little faster. When her legs began shaking uncontrollably, she dropped the phone.

  “Trae, wait,” she moaned as she started cummimg and shaking. When she stopped shaking, he slid his hand out of her panties.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” he bragged. She grabbed a dish towel and threw it at him. Trae’s pager was blowing up and he left out the kitchen to get it. She picked the phone up off the floor and, too embarrassed to see if the woman was still holding on, hung up.

  While Trae made some calls on his phone, she jumped in the shower. She couldn’t believe she let him corner her up like that. It was as if he knew what buttons to push. That orgasm put her knees out of commission. If he wasn’t holding her up, she would have collapsed to the floor. He was definitely smooth. He didn’t even undress me, she thought.

  She jumped out of the shower, oiled down and threw on a white, sleeveless blouse and some jeans. She put her hair into a bun and slipped into a pair of blue Gucci loafers on her way to the living room. “Trae, you didn’t have my permission to decorate my neck like this.”

  “I couldn’t help it, Tash. Some necks are very sensuous,” he said, lighting his blunt. “You ready to bounce?”

  “I did have other plans for today, Trae.”

  “Your plans are to roll with me,” he said, looking her up and down. “Damn. You ain’t got on no makeup and you still fine as hell. Look at your skin. It’s so pretty. Are those real?”

  “Is what real?”

  “Your breasts.”

  She started laughing. “You was biting and feeling all over them. You couldn’t tell?”

  “Shit. I didn’t handle them the way I really wanted to. They look so perfect. I wanted to be sure, so I’m asking.”

  “Of course they’re real.” She went to take out the Love Jones CD and turned off the CD player.

  “Yeah, bring that and Marvin Gaye’s I Want You,” he said, putting out the blunt. “You ready?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  The ride to New York was cool, thanks to the Navigator. Tasha fell in love with it. She felt so empowered and secure just being a passenger. Now she wanted to drive it. They talked a little about each other’s backgrounds and goals. Tasha didn’t go too deep into hers.

  His parents owned B-Boy Snack Cakes, and he had plans for his own marketing and public relations firm. The I Want You CD played over and over in the background.

  “A thug rockin’ Marvin Gaye,” she grinned at him.

  “That’s the shit Tash. A thug needs and wants that one special woman. Somebody who belongs only to him, who got his back and is willing to go the distance with him. That one who he could be all open for.”

  “A woman needs and wants that too Trae.”

  “I didn’t say she didn’t.”

  “Just making sure.” She turned toward him. “You got a bachelor’s degree. Why are you still out here putting your life and freedom on the line like this? I know you got enough money.”

  “Got caught up Tash. Gotta chase that paper a little while longer.” He looked at her. “Take your hair down.” She didn’t move. “What, did I stutter? Take your hair down for me please.” She kept looking at him as she slowly unraveled her bun, letting her hair fall. He reached over and ran his fingers through it. “Damn, it’s soft and pretty. I didn’t think it was yours.” She felt her nipples tingle.

  “First it was my breasts. Now it’s my hair. Is there anything else you’re curious about?”

  “Your tongue ring, is it platinum?”

  “Yup. What about your tongue ring? You don’t wear it all the time, do you?”

  “Nah. Just when I want to use it and just enough to keep it from closing up.”

  “Just when you want to use it. Okay then,” she mumbled, smiling to herself.

  He looked at her. “Can I kiss you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  “Trae you’re supposed to be driving. How are you gonna kiss and drive at the same time?”

  “I’ma pull the fuck over.”

  She smiled. “Nah Trae. Keep driving dawg.”

  He laughed at her.

  Once in New York, Trae handled his whip just like a New Yorker. He knew his way around. “Here we go,” he said, squeezing into a par
king spot.

  After helping her out of the Navigator, they went to Bergdorf Goodman, where he made her try on a beaded silk chiffon dress by Geri Gerard. It was tight, showed plenty of cleavage, and had a long slit up the left thigh, revealing her long, smooth, caramel-colored legs. It cost $2900. He also bought her some Gucci shoes and handbag, with jewelry to match. Her outfit came to almost five thousand dollars. They walked down the street, stopping at a jewelry store along the way. He replaced her platinum tongue ring with a diamond. His tailor was on the same block. As soon as he stepped inside, two salesmen approached him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Macklin,” the tall one with the long ponytail said.

  “What’s up, Anthony?”

  “What can we do for you today?”

  He gave him Tasha’s dress. “I want to match her.”

  “No problem, Mr. Macklin. Right this way.”

  He ended up letting Tasha choose some dark brown, silk and sharkskin material. The salespeople were pleased with her choice. He dropped four G’s for his suit, shirt and tie, and another fifteen hundred for some gators. They went to a cafe on the same block and ate lunch while his clothes were being made. Once they had their outfits they put the bags in the back of the Navigator and headed for his apartment.

  “How do you like living on Park Avenue?”

  “It’s a’ight, when I’m there. I ain’t never had no problems.”

  They pulled into the underground parking lot, got his bags out of the trunk, and headed for the building. He stopped at his mailbox before they stepped into the elevator.

  “Trae, your apartment is nice for a male,” Tasha said, walking through the three bedroom apartment.

  “What was you expecting, Tash?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, fiddling with the exercise equipment. “So this explains why you’re so cut up and defined,” she teased.

  “I’m hardly here. I usually sleep here three or four times a week. I mostly drop in, shower, change, and I’m out.”

  “Who keeps it clean?” she asked, looking in the refrigerator. “The building has maid service.”

  When she came out the kitchen he was taking his bags to the bedroom. The phone rang.

  “Tash! Pick that up for me.”

  “Sure.” Surprise evident in her voice.