She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 3

by Shvonne Latrice

  “Okay!” She covered my mouth with her hand as if people could hear in this loud ass venue.

  “Let’s bounce. We can fuck in the truck.” I started leading her out.

  As soon as we were in the back seat with the partition up, her fake shit talking ass was straddling my lap, unbuckling my pants. Gripping her wrists, I held them up and apart.

  “What? Stop, Houston!”

  “I thought it was just aight. Why yo’ little ass so anxious?”

  “Because!”

  “Not the right answer.”

  “Because I love your dick, Houston.” Her freaky ass started grinding in my lap, getting me hard as rock. Her panties were thin as hell. “Please, can I have it? I need it,” she begged softly, pecking my lips and still slow grinding against my dick. I felt like I was about to bust a nut in my jeans.

  “Why you so fucking sexy?” I really wanted to know.

  It wasn’t even just how her ass looked; it was how she carried herself, her soft ass skin, and even the faces she made when I was pounding her pussy.

  I let her wrists go, and she revealed my dick within seconds as I pushed her panties to the side. In no time, she was sliding down on me with her tight wet walls, making us both moan from the pits of our fucking bodies. I pushed the top of her dress down to reveal her pretty ass titties, then lifted the bottom half some so I could feel on that ass while she rode me.

  Bringing her closer to me, I sucked her nipples, enjoying her sweet scent as she moaned sexily in my ear. For the rest of the ride home, we were straight fucking.

  A few days later… around 8 p.m.…

  Eitan’s ass was really blowing the fuck up, and him blowing up meant the whole label was getting notoriety. Nala wasn’t too far behind his ass either. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe I had gotten shit this far.

  This scene for his video in particular was a night shoot, at this big ass mansion with a bunch of hoes out here shaking ass in bathing suits. It had a real nineties type vibe, like on some real West Coast Tupac shit.

  Nehemiah’s ass was impressive for sure, and the more fly ass videos he shot, the more money Paramount was willing to front. Like I knew, I’d been making them niggas way more bread than they’d been spending, so anything I asked for or wanted at this point was sent my way with no fucking questions asked.

  “Hey, boss, some woman is at the front door trying to get in the house.” One of the bodyguards I hired only for shoots, Oliver, walked up.

  He was a big ass Italian muthafucka. I didn’t need him for shit else except for when we had to do stuff like this, simply because it was too many muthafuckas, and shit could get out of hand. He sometimes worked when my artists had shows, but for them, never for my ass.

  “What’s her name?” I frowned.

  “Star.”

  Her name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember why, so I left the back area where the scenes were being shot, to tread through the house. Opening the door, I saw a thick ass brown-skinned girl standing there. Her body was on some crazy shit; too much, almost. But then again, a nigga compared everybody to fine ass Camarih. My baby was in shape but kept the shit feminine. No nigga wanted a bitch as hard as he was under him.

  “Yeah?” I looked her up and down.

  “Hi, Tony. I need to speak with Nehemiah.”

  “About what?”

  “Well he said I could come chill at the shoot, so I came. And I honestly need to talk to him about us.”

  “He’s working, and on my fucking dime, so nah, wait until that nigga is done to do that personal shit. I’ll tell him you came through.”

  Nehemiah ain’t say shit about no bitch coming by to chill.

  “He’s my child’s father.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Take yo’ buff ass home and wait.” I felt my face twist up.

  “I don’t think so—”

  “Oh, what you think?” I came all the way outside, getting in her space, and halting her steps. “Bitch, you must not know who the fuck I am or how I get down. Looking like a fucking bulldog in a skirt. I don’t give a fuck how much you bench press, I ain’t the nigga you want it with.”

  “You are such an asshole.” She grimaced before turning around and storming off.

  I went back out to the pool to sit back and watch the rest of the video, but by the time it hit midnight, I bounced.

  I had to stop by my old crib, just to make sure shit was in place. Now that I didn’t live there, I feared muthafuckas would try some stupid shit. So a couple times a week, mainly on Wednesdays and Fridays, I rolled through.

  As I looked all around the house, I heard my doorbell ring. I patted my waist to be sure my piece was on me, because it was after midnight, and nobody should have been at my fucking door.

  Looking out the peephole, I spotted Joy.

  “What?” I answered. She was in some baggy ass clothes, looking like a damn fool.

  “Can I talk?”

  “Joy, hurry the fuck up.” I backed away from the door so I could finish inspecting the living room.

  “Are you really getting married?”

  “You drove all the way over here, for that bullshit? And you clearly been on some stalker shit to even know I was here.”

  “I asked the guy across the street if you ever came by here, and he told me the days, so I’ve just been waiting.” She sniffled as she sat on the couch. “So, are you?”

  Ignoring her, I pulled my phone from my pocket and went into my contacts before tapping on the screen. As soon as the FaceTime call picked up, I turned the camera on Joy.

  “I thought you said this hoe was done with me? She at my old crib, after midnight, asking about my engagement and shit.”

  “Joy?” Carter quizzed, obviously half asleep. When he looked around, I started laughing hard as fuck, because it was obvious his stupid ass thought the bitch was in bed next to him still. “Joy!” he called again, but by now, she’d hopped up and slipped out of the door.

  “Keep that bitch in line, nigga. ’Cause if my girl gets a whiff of her antics, I’m on both of y’all fucking heads.”

  “You probably asked her to come just to fuck with me!”

  “Like I said, nigga, keep playing with me, and I’ll stop her ass from fucking with you without even touching her. And lower ya fucking voice when you talking to me, bruh.”

  “Man, fuck you.” He hung up.

  I prayed like a muthafucka that he had that same energy next time I saw his ass because it was on sight. Hopefully he could stay awake for it this time.

  Jilly

  It was half past six o’clock, and I’d just gotten home from work. Yes, I was still clocking in at Saks, while doing styling jobs when my brother needed me. He paid me well, but I liked having that extra cushion of a check I got from the department store.

  But now that more videos were being shot and Tony was thinking of getting someone to help when I couldn’t, I was probably gonna quit. No way was some random gonna take my job. Plus, I liked being able to see Nehemiah, even though he didn’t talk to me much at all.

  “Damn, why you slamming doors?” Vernon came from the back, staring at me.

  “Did you just wake up?” I wrinkled my nose, almost disgusted.

  “Yeah, man. I been extra tired.”

  “From what? You don’t even have a job. How could you be that tired?”

  “I was hooping all day yesterday with the homies damn near. That’s how!” He sized me up before going into the kitchen. “And I would have a job if you did your part.”

  “Vernon, just because I said my brother would help you doesn’t mean you can’t go out and look on your own. You shouldn’t even want my brother’s help, to be honest.”

  Why did I ever bring up my brother helping him?

  “Well I do. Same way you let him hand you jobs, I’d like that opportunity as well.”

  “He doesn’t hand me anything. He helped me, yes, but I did the job and well. My brother would not hire me and keep me working if I was fu
cking up.”

  “Sure, Jilly.” Vernon laughed, opening a box of Ritz crackers.

  “What the fuck is that laugh for?” I walked into the kitchen where he was.

  “All you do is pick out fucking outfits, and you in here acting like you got some sort of fucking talent.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m not trying to be rude, baby, but don’t pretend like you’re some hardworking woman that finally got a break because someone woke up to her abilities.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I stormed off to my bedroom, slamming and locking the door. And to think that nigga didn’t even come chase me.

  Staring at the wall, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wanted to curse Vernon out, but that wouldn’t make me feel better about what he said.

  I didn’t really have friends like that to go chill with, because most of them only befriended me hoping to fuck Tony. Now it was even worse that he had some celebrity. They either wanted to get close to him, Eitan, or newly Dirko, now that it was common knowledge my brother had signed him.

  I thought of calling Camarih, but she was busy I was sure. My mind went to Brielle, but her ass had been acting funny. I hadn’t seen her in months, and once Camarih gave birth, it was like she didn’t want to be associated with me. She acted as if I hooked Camarih up with her man or something.

  Leaving the bedroom to fetch my purse, I said nothing to Vernon as he shoved cracker after cracker into his mouth while watching my TV. Going back to my room, I locked the door again and took my iPhone out to call Nehemiah.

  I knew he hated me, especially because he acted as if I was a stranger at the video shoots, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t a girl you could just cut off. And I knew he still liked me, so it would take no effort at all to reel him back in.

  “What?” He picked up in an annoyed fashion, but it didn’t bother me. I was Jilly Terranova, and 99 percent of these niggas became putty in my hands whenever I wanted them to be.

  “I was calling to see how you were.” I was already smiling as I paced my bedroom.

  “I’m straight.”

  “Oh, me? I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

  “Jilly, what do you want? I’m busy.”

  “Doing what? Thinking about me?”

  “Hell no. I’m looking online for a new apartment if you must know. So if you ain’t got nothing to say, I’m gon’ hang up.”

  “Wait, I need someone to talk to.” I played the damsel in distress role.

  “Go talk to yo’ nigga.”

  “I can’t. He went off on me and hurt my feelings.” I spoke as somberly as I could. Even though I was putting on a show, Vernon in fact had hurt my feelings, ego, and pride. “Please let me come to you and talk.”

  “Aight, Jilly, but listen, we gon’ talk, and then you gon’ go back home. This is a one-time thing.”

  “Right, of course.” I rolled my eyes. This nigga could tell himself whatever he wanted. “Text me your address.”

  “Aight.”

  I hung up and waited for the message. Nigga took five whole minutes to send it, and once he did, I rushed to shower and brush my teeth. Afterwards, I put on a simple black skirt and tube top, making it look like a dress unless I stretched to show my stomach. I put on a little bit of my Daisy perfume, and then I headed for the door.

  “Where you going?” Vernon questioned.

  “Don’t worry about my talentless ass.” I yanked the door open and left out.

  My phone began ringing, and I already knew it was Vernon, so I ignored it, hopping into my car and going straight to Nehemiah’s place.

  I parked in front of the nice cozy home in San Pedro, wondering how the hell this nigga afforded such an expensive place. Yes, it was somewhat dark, but I knew the house was at least a four bedroom with two baths. And in California, that cost an arm and a leg.

  Suddenly, a figure walked up on my car and knocked on the window. Upon seeing it was Nehemiah, I hit the locks.

  “Hey.” He nodded to me. He looked so good, and his scent was nice too, but not like it was cologne; more like body wash. He was rocking a hoodie, jeans, and I think sneakers.

  “Hey… this is your spot?” I pointed.

  “Nah, my mom’s.”

  “Oh. Is that why we’re out here?”

  “Kind of. Don’t want my mama meeting a random female.” He looked my way, wearing an odd expression.

  “Random? You were all on me about a week ago.”

  “Wasn’t no damn week ago.”

  “I’m being facetious.” He didn’t say anything as he toyed with his little bit of chin hair. “Anyway, I guess I don’t mind being out here in the car.”

  “Cool. What’s up?”

  “Do you think I’m talentless?”

  “What?” His face squished, almost like he thought the question was dumb.

  “I’m serious. My hu—boyfriend said I was talentless and only working for my brother because he’s my brother.”

  “And this is yo’ nigga?” He laughed almost.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. You females got some low ass standards these days.” He was obviously upset about me having a man, so I was gonna let that one slide. “Nah, you not talentless. Did you get a leg up ’cause yo’ brother is Tony Wacko, yeah, but you deserve the job.”

  “Thank you, because I was kind of thinking that he was right.” I looked down, twiddling my thumbs.

  Lifting my head by my chin, Nehemiah said, “He’s not. I know he’s yo’ man, but he sounds jealous. Maybe he’s mad you got yo’ dream job and he’s stuck working a nine to five.”

  “If only he had a nine to five.”

  “I know you not telling me this nigga don’t have a job.”

  “He doesn’t, but he never asks me for money or anything, and he still takes me out when he can.”

  “How?”

  “His mom.”

  Nehemiah shook his head before looking at me. We both started laughing, but I stopped once I realized what I was doing because I felt bad. I didn’t wanna be ragging on my man with another nigga.

  “I don’t like you right now, but I’m wondering how a female as beautiful, talented, and smart as you ended up with a nigga like that.”

  “He’s not that bad. I mean, my brother hates him because he says he’s untrustworthy, but he’s cool. He’s sweet, too, when he wants to be.”

  Nehemiah simply nodded before looking off out of the window.

  “I think you should go back home, and I’m gon’ go back to my place,” he suggested.

  “Wait, don’t you live here?”

  “No. This is only my mom’s spot. Where I live, I can’t really be outside in the car with another female.”

  “Why not?” I felt myself getting jealous. I didn’t know why, because the only man who made me slightly jealous, and very rarely might I add, was Vernon.

  “Because, Jilly, I live with my baby mama right now.” He wasn’t looking at me when he said it, but when done, we made eye contact.

  “Oh, so you got mad at me for having a boyfriend, yet you have a girlfriend.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend. She was my girl, but we broke up. I still live with her as of right now, but thanks to your brother giving me work, I can afford a spot alone.”

  “How old is your baby?”

  “He’s three.” Nehemiah smirked.

  “You want to be back with her?”

  “No, I don’t. I wanted to start something new, but that was a bust.” He gave me a look.

  “Get in the back seat.”

  “For what?” he inquired as I got out of my car and into the back.

  Frowning, he hesitated, but eventually did the same.

  “Because I like you.” I started kissing him as soon as he shut the door behind himself.

  I didn’t know what had come over me, but hearing him possibly having something else on the side made me envious. I liked him and didn’t want him rekindling with his baby mama. I wanted him.

&n
bsp; “Jilly…” He was about to say something until I started undressing.

  “In the car? Right now?” He laughed as I started helping him out of his hoodie.

  “Yes.”

  “You wild as fuck.”

  “I know.”

  When he was down to his boxers, I laid on my back, watching him put a condom on.

  “I’d rather give you some head first, but it’s cramped as fuck back here.” Nehemiah whipped his head in different directions as if he were looking for a way to do what he wanted.

  “Trust me, you can do that another time. Right now, I want to have sex.” I tugged on his forearm.

  With no questions asked, he got on top of me, placed my legs in the nooks of his arms, and then pressed at my opening. I pushed toward his dick because I was too ready, and soon enough, the head was in, making me moan softly.

  “I thought you said you had a man.” He groaned once he was all the way inside. I could tell by his face that he was in heaven.

  “I… do.” I whimpered, feeling him rock in and out of me. His size was commendable, making me spread my legs wider for him.

  “Y’all must never fuck,” he whispered, just before kissing me.

  I felt up and down his smooth back as he seemingly made love to me for a little bit. Once I came, he started hitting it harder, forcing me to cry out. His stare was intense as he fucked me, while rubbing my hair back soothingly like he loved me.

  After a while, he couldn’t control himself as much, moaning almost as loudly as I was as he sexed me more forcefully.

  We were sweating hard as we continued to French kiss and fuck for an hour it felt like. Finally, I came for the third time, and he released into the condom. We kept on pecking and rubbing for a little bit, before he finally pulled out and got off me.

  Removing the condom, he tossed it outside after fixing his boxers, while I grabbed a wipe from my purse sitting on the floor.

  “You okay?” I inquired while dressing.

  “Now I’m gon’ be wanting to fuck you again.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I grinned.

  “You got a boyfriend. I’m not about to be sharing pussy with another nigga knowingly. That’s nasty as fuck.”