He also knew everything to say to make me just shut up and fuck.
I left Stan sound asleep at about four o’clock. He was sleeping so good and hard that he might as well have had his thumb in his month.
Before I left, I was sure to tell the front desk to give him a wake-up call at 4:30pm. Though it wasn’t my place to care whether Stan kept his home life stable, the longer his wife didn’t catch on to his infidelity, the fatter my pockets got. Plus, I liked the guy.
Luckily, Roxie was at home with her kids, so I was able to drop Jordon off so that she could keep an eye on him while I met up with DeShawn. Roxie often babysat for me. If it was not school or tricking, she was at home with her kids not doing anything anyway. She definitely kept an eye on Jordan if it involved hustling, since all of my hustles involved her making money as well.
I met DeShawn at his place. I never allowed him to pick me up from my house because, by some chance he thought I had anything to do with the robbery, I didn’t want him to know where I lived. Since I lived with my mother, I used the fact that I don’t want my mother in my business as an excuse for why I always met him instead of allowing him to pick me up.
Before I could get out of my car, I noticed DeShawn’s white Lexus truck pulling out of his garage. I immediately jumped out of my car and walked up to the passenger side. When he noticed me, he smiled so genuinely.
I made sure to dress to impress since I knew that I was meeting up with him. It was only fifty degrees that day, so I wore a pair of dark skinny jeans that hugged my forty-three inch hips and booty perfectly. Along with a simple tee, knee-high burnt orange five-inch boots, matching leather jacket, Gucci tote, and sixteen-inch fresh sew-in weave, I was too cute and I knew it.
“Hey, baby,” I said with a smile as I hopped into the truck. As I kissed his cheek, I asked him jokingly, “Were you leaving me?”
“Now you know I wouldn’t leave you,” DeShawn said with a cute sexy grin as he squeezed my thigh. “I saw you parking out the window.”
Ooo, DeShawn was so damn sexy! He had that thug appeal that every girl loves. He was only 5’10”, which was more than tall enough for me because I am only 5’3”. He wore a fade with lots of deep waves. He was tatted from his neck to his elbows, and he often wore a fitted cap that brought out his pretty dark bedroom eyes and full lips.
“Where are we going?”
“To get something to eat. You hungry?”
“Starving.”
Stan had helped me work up an appetite, so I could have definitely used a meal. As I thought about the few hours that I had just spent with Stan, I suddenly felt dirty in DeShawn’s presence. Though I knew that being with DeShawn was my “job,” since I was starting to like him, being with other men was beginning to wear on my conscience. Honestly, deep down inside, I hoped that DeShawn was taking “us” seriously. However, I couldn’t even entertain the thought because I knew that I would never be able to talk Benz, Scoop, and Roxie out of sticking him up if DeShawn and I got serious.
DeShawn snapped me out my trance by slightly pinching my thigh again. “What you thinkin’ about?”
I quickly smiled and simply told him, “You.”
We ended up grabbing a quick bite to eat at Buffalo Wild Wings. During the ride there and back, DeShawn was drinking Hennessy and Coke out of a McDonald’s cup, so as his eyes began to glaze and that sexy smile became even sexier and devilish, I knew what time it was.
Because of escorting, I often had sex twice in one day; with a client and with the man that I was seeing intimately. It was actually very easy for me to do because I hadn’t had deep feelings for a man that I was seeing since Jordan’s daddy, so I chalked one up as a job and the other as “doing me”.
To rid myself of Stan, I immediately drew a bath when I got to DeShawn’s condo. As I stood in the bathroom undressing and watching the water run, DeShawn knocked on the door and entered before I could answer.
“I need you to help me do something real quick,” he told me. Then, in such an adorable way, he lost his train of thought as he looked me up and down; adoring my body that was now only dressed in panties and a bra.
DeShawn licked his lips and then shook his head quickly as if to make himself focus.
“I need you to help me count this money real quick. I forgot to do it before we left, and Tim is on his way to pick it up.”
Tim was DeShawn’s trigger-happy best friend that I told Roxie about. DeShawn was a level-headed dude that was raised in the hood, but didn’t wear where he was from and what he did for a living on his sleeve.
Tim, on the other hand, was a goon. It oozed from his pores and spilled out in rants and raves of how he shot at this guy, whooped someone’s ass, and hadn’t changed in a week because he had been on the block. He was one of only two other friends, Mac and Jay, who worked with DeShawn, and they often ran his errands.
Before I could even answer DeShawn, he turned my bath water off, took me by the hand, and led me through his condo. As we walked, he would squeeze my ass every now and then and say “Gawd damn!”
I hid my surprise when we walked pass the stash spot that I knew of. Instead of his guest bedroom, we kept going down the hallway, down the few steps that led to the den, and into a closet. DeShawn walked into the back of the closet, kneeled down, pulled back the carpet, removed four floor boards, and gave me instructions.
“I need you to count out one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Each bundle is ten-thousand dollars in twenties, fifties, and one hundred dollar bills, but he only wants hundred dollar bills. Then I need you to put the money inside of the duffle bag on the living room table.” Then he stepped out of the closet. “Hurry up. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes. I need to make a phone call real quick.”
When DeShawn ran out of the closet, I was finally able to kneel down and look into the space that was beneath the floorboards.
I damn near fainted.
There were stacks and stacks of bundles of cash bound by rubber bands. As I reached in, I noticed that there were twelve by five bundles stacked perfectly.
That calculated to over five hundred thousand dollars.
Three
Thursday, March 4, 2010
STAR
“Star, where are you goin’ now?!”
Instantly, my head began to hurt. It was about four in the afternoon. I had Jordan in my arms, his baby bag on one arm, and my bag and purse hanging from the other.
My mother was standing in the living room with her hands on her hips as she looked at me like I was the biggest disappointment that had ever come out of her vagina.
“I am just going to Roxie’s house.”
“You are always in the streets, Star! Every single day you are in and out this house... going here, going there, and you always have that baby with you! He don’t need to be out in the streets like that!”
I sighed slightly and tried to calm down before I disrespected my mother. I had almost nineteen years of practice, so I finally knew how to successfully get out of an argument with my mother without pissing myself off: shut the fuck up, just answer her questions, and tell her that she is right.
“Mom, Jordan is my responsibility. He needs to be with me.”
Jordan began to squirm and whine as if he wanted to get out of my arms, which further irritated me. My mother just looked at me and shook her head shamefully as if she was silently rebuking the devil and pleading for the blood of Jesus.
I just knew she was praying in her head.
“Mama, what’s wrong? I’m in school. I study hard. Why are you so upset just because I want to go enjoy myself?”
“Because you’re never at home, and you always have my grandbaby in the streets-God only knows where!”
“I’m studying!”
“Until one in the morning?! Who you think you foolin’, Star?! I wasn’t born last night, and I wasn’t always saved. Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset! I’m a good mother
. I keep my child with me. You don’t have to help me financially with anything. I am in school. I would think that you would be proud of me!”
“You aren’t studying at one in the morning. Ain’t nothing open that late but legs and bars!”
I decided to go back to doing what was best: shutting the fuck up.
After about twenty minutes, my mother finally got tired of bitching, and I was able to leave.
I knew that my mother wondered what I was doing all day. I didn’t have a job, and I was always away from home. However, I was able to keep transportation, gas, and take care of me and my child without asking her for anything. I knew she wondered what in the hell I was doing that kept money in my pocket. When she would ask, I would lie and tell her that Jordan’s father sent me child support, but I am sure that she was smart enough to figure out that someone away at college couldn’t be sending me that much money.
I shrugged it off as I drove down 87th Street towards Roxie’s apartment. In a few months, I was going to have enough money saved to move out of my mother’s house. During the past year of escorting and hustling, I was able to save twenty thousand dollars. That wasn’t enough, though. I needed enough money to take care of Jordan and myself for at least another year. After a year, I would be done with my LPN program. After that, my plan was to work as I got my RN license.
I didn’t want to sell pussy forever, so I needed enough money to take care of myself and Jordan when the time came that I quit.
When I saw that money in DeShawn’s stash, the first thing I thought about was that I definitely would have been able to quit after Benz and Scoop hit that lick. Yet, something in my gut wouldn’t allow me to tell them about that separate stash. Though it would have made my life easier, when I imagined them taking everything DeShawn had, it didn’t feel like it was right or worth it.
TRICEY
When I saw my mother’s number on the Caller ID, I cringed.
I knew that she was calling to complain about Star. She had been so upset with Star for the past couple of months. Apparently Star had been in the streets with Roxie all day/every day, and it was driving my mother crazy.
As I answered, I turned off the radio in the car. “Hi, Ma.”
“Hey, Tricey.” Sure enough, she sounded pissed enough to smack someone, if only her holiness would allow her to do it without her feeling bad.
“What’s wrong?”
Through blows and sighs of frustration, she answered, “Your sister is getting on my nerves! It’s time for her to move.”
I laughed to keep her from crying. “You’re ready to kick her out already?! Dag.”
“I can’t stand watching her walk in and out of this house with that baby, not knowing when she is going to come home, or even if she will come home. True enough, she is over eighteen, so she can’t be treated like she is three years old; but she is still in my house and as long as I am the oldest woman in the house getting a period, I call the shots.”
“You are absolutely right.”
“What can she be doing at all hours of the night? She doesn’t have a job; yet, she continues to shop and keep gas in that car. Granted, she doesn’t ask me for anything, and hardly asks me to babysit, so, in most cases, I should be happy with that. But ain’t no way in the world she and Roxie sit in that house with Jordan and Roxie’s three kids and study all night. Ain’t no way!”
I couldn’t tell her whether she was right or wrong, because I could barely keep up with Star myself. When I did manage to catch up with Star, she hardly shared with me any details of her personal life, and she never accepted any help from me when I offered. Star was overly independent; too independent for her own damn good. She thought she had to do it to prove that, though she had Jordan when she was sixteen, she could handle it all on her own. When she and Jordan’s dad broke up and he moved away to college, it was as if Star went into overdrive, trying to prove that though his dad left – just as my mom figured he would– it wouldn’t stop her show.
And it hadn’t. Star was constantly labeled from head to toe, and so was Jordan. She had her own transportation and paid the few bills that she had accumulated. The only thing she hadn’t done was move out of Mama’s house yet.
“Do you think she’s stripping?”
I sighed as I answered my mother. “I honestly can’t tell you whether she is or isn’t.”
I wanted to tell my mother that if Star was stripping, I wouldn’t blame her; but, that would have only made my mother’s blood pressure go up. My mother was from a different day and age. Her vision was stuck back in moral behaviors that have since become acceptable in our society. Though I wouldn’t praise Star for stripping her way through nursing school, it wouldn’t surprise me since I knew quite a few women who have done it.
“You sound so calm about this.”
“Well, you do have to give Star some credit,” I told my mother. “She is in school. She is independent. She doesn’t ask you for anything, and she isn’t so insufficient that you have to raise Jordan…”
“But I don’t want the streets raising him either.”
“How deep in the streets can she be if she goes to school every day?” I even chuckled. “I can see if the girl drank or smoked weed, but she doesn’t. She is in school full-time with a kid, and she is a single mother. She just wants to live a little. Give her the benefit of the doubt.”
When Smith walked through the bedroom door, I got happy.
It was embarrassing the way that I grinned and purred as he walked toward me and kissed my forehead. I was lying across the bed looking at a Victoria Secret’s magazine. Since Ariana was sleep in her bedroom, I was chilling for the first time all day.
Smith lay beside me as he kissed me again, but this time on the lips and with some tongue.
“Get that one,” he smiled as he pointed to a red and white teddy on the opened page. “And that one. And that one. Ooo shit, and that one too! Gawd damn, you would look delicious in that! I’d eat you up.” And with a lust-filled groan, he kissed my shoulder.
“You are so nasty,” I said with a giggle.
“You like it,” he told me.
“No, I love it.”
I began to kiss my baby over and over again in gratitude. I was so grateful to have a man in my life that was a man who loved me so unconditionally. It had been years since I was able to be with a man and be happy in his love without there being a consequence: a wife that wasn’t going anywhere, his inability to commit, or a nagging feeling that he is cheating.
I don’t think that I have ever had a man that so successfully and lovingly controlled my everything the way that Smith did. Just like now, while I was lying around, not knowing what my night would bring, he comes through the door and makes me smile, just like that. He knew exactly what I wanted and needed.
I kissed Smith lovingly, and he pushed the catalog to the side, crawling on top of me, taking control.
I loved it.
I needed it.
I appreciated it.
Sexually, emotionally, and physically, I never had to tell Smith what to do or where to go. He knew exactly what to do to show me that it was me who he loved.
Smith didn’t even take off our clothes. He simply unzipped his pants, pulled my panties to the side, and entered me with aggression. I quietly moaned and whimpered with pleasure, wishing my daughter was away so that I could scream and yell Smith’s name as loud as I wanted to.
Just when I was deep into loving the penetration that Smith was blessing me with, he pulled out, snatched my panties off, and turned me over. He placed me in a doggy style position and began to lick my pleasure point. I gushed with joy as he sucked my clitoris. Then, he does what I love, opening my pussy even further with both hands so that he could reach the deep, most sensitive areas of my clitoris.
I whisper his praises. “Oh gawd,” and “Mmmm” was sung quietly from my throat in order to keep from making too much noise. I wished for the permission to be as loud and raunchy as I wanted to be. The wa
y that Smith French kissed my pussy made me want to loudly howl with satisfaction.
Smith spoke as he ate, “You taste so good, babe,” and I fought the urge to cum.
Slowly, he sticks his tongue inside me while simultaneously playing with my clitoris.
As deeply as possible, his tongue makes love to me.
I love the raunchiness of it all. I fuck his face back, and he welcomes the ride – wrapping his arms around my ass, gripping my ass with his hands, and holding my pussy to his face.
“When Blood was alive, were you attracted to me?”
Forty-five minutes later, I was lying on top of Smith as if he was a big teddy bear.
Smith was indeed a big guy; 6’3 and almost two-hundred and eighty pounds. Though he had luckily never been in jail, he definitely had a jail bird body. Contrary to what I prefer, my baby was light-skinned, damn near pale. I never would have thought that I would be with a yellow man. I always preferred the roughness of a dark skinned man. However, roughness was added to Smith’s appeal because I knew what his past entailed, and it was even scripted on his body in about twenty tattoos all over his arms, chest, and back.
“I thought you were cute, but I never looked at you like that.” Smith spoke so bluntly that his honesty was a little harsh. I would have been offended had he not just given me the business.
“Why not?”
“Because of Blood.”
“What do you mean? Blood and I were just friends.”
“You all were just friends because you were pregnant,” Smith replied with a chuckle.
I was flabbergasted. “You sound like Lyric with that nonsense.”
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 40
