Arm Candy

by T. C. Littles

  The more I scrolled through King’s feed, the wider my eyes popped open. Pictures of him and that baby were tagged on his page with punch lines like “Daddy and Junior,” and “A Music-made Family.” The last caption got under my skin since I knew King’s side life started in the studio. Out of everyone involved, I faulted myself for cleaning him up and catering to his ego. My investments were the ones that helped turn him into a music mogul in the underground world. He was a Samira-made man, if the bitch Tiana really wanted to know.

  Revenge was about to be more than sweet around this way, believe that. If King wanted to have his groupie with a family on the side, it was only fair that I had my secret squirrel life too. He could choke on a fat one for trying to play daddy to Rayna’s son, especially without a DNA test. I was tired of playing the fool to this man over and over again.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Hearing soft taps coming from the other side of my door, I knew without asking it was Johnie. “Come in.” I didn’t hesitate to invite him within the confines of my and King’s bedroom. As wrong as this might’ve been, King was more than responsible for pushing me away.

  Like a little kid looking for trouble, Johnie entered with a sly smile on his face. He was more attractive to me now than he was before we banged. “You straight, ma? I heard you going ham on my manz all the way from downstairs.” His mouth was doing the talking, but his eyes were locked on my curvaceous body, right where they needed to be.

  “Yeah, he’s still at the hospital playing family man. I’m so tired of playing the fool for that nigga. You just don’t know the half of it.”

  “I might not know it all, but I roll with K.P. enough to know the half of it,” he dry-snitched on his supposed right-hand man.

  Johnie’s smirk turned into a grin as he stood with an erection at the foot of my bed, waiting on my reaction. If the mask hadn’t been dropped before about him being disloyal to King, he was shining bright as an opportunist now. Here and now though, I didn’t have room to judge.

  “Naw, maybe not. What I do know is that you should start tending to your own needs.” Coming all the way into the room, closing the door behind him, Johnie stood less than ten paces from me with a bulge in his pants. Neither of us needed to say what was obvious. He wanted a round two just as badly as I needed him to take the edge off again.

  Nothing about our flirting was subtle. Johnie’s eyes roamed my body as I allowed the towel to drop to the floor. Fuck it! I might as well get down while I can, ’cause if this shit ever hits the fan King will kill us both.

  “You might as well get busy with what you came up here for. I’m not stupid. I know this pussy’s got that cum back.” Sitting down then sliding back onto the bed, I spread my legs open so he could see my already-wet slit.

  “That it does, ma, and I see it’s purring for me. Let me see how you taste.” Sliding down his denim Mek jeans then pulling his white T off and tossing it to the side, Johnie lifted my legs into the air then disappeared between my thighs.

  I couldn’t stop wiggling, inevitably fighting back the strongest orgasm of my life. He was tongue-fucking me better than King ever had, making my body experience pure nirvana with my mind totally blanking out. I felt warm sensations from head to toe, and the blood flow in my body rushed to my vagina as my legs locked in preparation for an orgasm.

  “Cum in my mouth, Mira. Don’t you fucking move.” Johnie’s words were muffled.

  “Oh, shit, daddy! Kin . . . Johnie, work me out!” Rightfully losing my mind, I accidentally was about to call Johnie by my husband’s name. If I was gonna be cheating, I fa’sho needed to get my game straight.

  Chapter Eleven

  King

  The studio was cloudy with thick smoke as I bobbed my head, trying to zone out to Johnie’s raps laid over T.I.’s “No Mediocre” track. Two fat Swisher Sweets in, and I still hadn’t figured out my game plan or mixed the beat properly. Today defined me as a man but ran together like a blur.

  For the first time since I stepped out on Samira, her reactions proved I couldn’t have my cake and eat it, too. In the near future, I saw myself having to choose a permanent home team between Rayna and Samira. And truth be told, it was gonna be hard.

  Once I laid eyes on King Wallace Jr., I knew he was created in the likeness of me. His tiny nose, the shape of his lips, and even the roundness of his head were all miniature features of me. He was my son, my firstborn, and my responsibility to protect from the cruelty of this world. Rayna had my word that she’d have my support and I’d have her back when it came to raising him. There was no way in hell I could live without him, even for just one day.

  I now had a family with Rayna, and from the numerous amount of death wishes coming to my phone from Samira, she wasn’t supporting the idea. Sneaky-ass Tiana uploaded the pictures of me holding K.J. to Facebook, and the rest is history. Samira could roll with it or roll on. I wasn’t abandoning my son.

  Frustration was setting in because the turmoil within my love life had me slipping when it came to my moves with music. If I didn’t get a handle on the drama going on with me, Samira, Rayna, but ultimately Junior, my comparable status to a legend would be downgraded to that of an amateur. I’d put in too much hard work and hustled too many dollars from Samira to lose rank.

  Shit, this might be part of the problem. After taking a long hit that had me choking, I put the blunt out. As much as I wanted the buds to soothe my nerves, it was probably responsible for stunting my creativity. “A’ight, music makes money, and you’re gonna need it for li’l man.” I gave myself an out-loud pep talk then slid my headphones back over my ears. Focusing on getting my paper up always motivated me to grind hard.

  Back listening to Johnie’s next single to be released, I knew his singing voice would bring more attention to the brand I was trying to build. It didn’t take but a few bars to know I’d gotten over by signing him. Switching from his love songs to my hip-hop tracks, I played the few I’d just recorded to see if any were worth me passing off to the radio station to increase our website play. I’d gotten Johnie’s text earlier and was feeling myself at my hard work, blowing up and getting the credit it deserved. I was mad serious about my career and was ready to monopolize on every opportunity possible.

  Buzz!

  I looked up to Johnie coming into the studio. With more swag in his walk than yesterday, his ego was making growth.

  “Since you’re here, I take it everything went well at the hospital.” Johnie gave me dap.

  “Yeah, her and my li’l man are doing one hundred.” I left out the potential health scares. Me and Rayna would cross that bridge when we got there if need be. “He’s tiny but tough, ya feel me?” Like any proud father would, I pulled my phone out to show him the few photos I’d snapped plus the ones Tiana sent me.

  “That’s what’s up, man, congrats! Your bloodline is looking good. I saw all the uploaded pictures on Facebook. I don’t know what the world is getting ready to be like with a little King running through this bitch!”

  “Who you telling? That’s getting ready to be my li’l homie right there.” Johnie gave me another dap of congratulations. It felt good having someone on my team happy about my son’s arrival.

  I felt a sense of pride. With all the drama and craziness Rayna put me through, she’d actually made me a father. Next to hearing my track on the radio, having Junior nestled in my arms was my happiest moment. As wrong as everything seemed to be, my son was the peace I needed to at least try to make things right.

  “I commend you for being so cool when Samira is lighting firecrackers with her attitude at home.” Johnie threw salt into my parade.

  “I’ve been avoiding her every call and text,” I admitted to him. “She’s been blowing me up, but I ain’t trying to hear all that ‘whomp-whomp’ nagging. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got my clothes on the curb by now.” I swung around in the chair.

  “Y’all two are a mess,” Johnie laughed, not debating the probability of Samira cl
owning on me so hard. “She was up in the bedroom when I left so I can’t call what her intentions were.” He was the last one with her, so he should’ve had more information to give. That’s what I deserved though for trusting another man to clean up my mess.

  That’s when Jamila’s words came ringing back to me loud and clear. I was supposed to be looking at Johnie sideways and questioning his motives, not confiding in him like he’d been a decades-long family friend. Hell, even then trustworthiness couldn’t be counted on. Family would fuck you too. Anything else regarding my women that needed discussion was set on the back burner. It was time to get down to business.

  “Let’s get busy with a few of these tracks. You already know getting to work is the only way I clear my mind,” I played it off.

  “A’ight, bro, I’m game. I think the D might be finally ready for the beats we bang out.” Johnie was ten times more eager about getting to work. “My YouTube page has been doing numbers since that gig down at Flood’s, plus our website has gotten over a thousand hits. We’re out in these streets heavy.”

  Johnie thought he was putting me up on game or clueing me in on something I didn’t know. I followed the charts, our site, blogs, and soundboards for reviews closer than I followed my health and heartbeat. Samira could get gone if she wanted to give me a compromise to music. This game I was achieving in was much more than a hobby. It was my passion.

  “Like I told you when we inked that contract, we’re about to come up in a helluva way. Just this week, we’ve got a photo shoot for the new album, more studio time to lay some tracks, and an interview with this underground hip-hop magazine that’s looking to feature new artists. We in this bitch, baby boy.” I gave him dap. “Trust ya manz.”

  “Whoa, I see in between mackin’ that messy-ass life of yours, you’ve still been making boss moves for the brand.” Johnie’s response showed he was surprised. “That’s what’s up.”

  “No doubt. Real talk, man-to-man, all this drama ain’t did nothing but motivate me to step my game up even more. When it’s all said and done, I’ve got a mouth to feed, and that little boy is not going to want for anything. Ya feel me?

  “Word up. I can dig it. I don’t know what your plans are when it comes to Samira or Rayna, but I wish you the best of luck.” He gave me a brotherly hug then cut out into the soundproof room.

  “Sound check one, two. Let’s make this cash.”

  Johnie

  I wasn’t mad at King for sticking to the promises he’d made when inking our deal to significantly increase my name recognition. All I saw was dollar signs and my portfolio growing. The number of gigs he’d lined up for us would for sure send my career skyrocketing off.

  We stayed locked down in the studio for hours making track after track. Unlike all the other days of us putting in work, it was bone dry of pussy in here. From the looks of it, he was trying to make moves with his brain instead of with his dick. But it was too late. I’d already made moves on what I was interested in.

  “Let’s take five so I can check in on Rayna and li’l man.” K.P. finally came out of his all-work zone.

  “A’ight, no problem.” I slid the headphones off then tapped the mic. It was a little ritual I did to thank the musical instrument for loving me so much. Corny I know, but every artist has a quirk. “We’ve been flying through those tracks. I think yo’ ass gonna fuck around and have our next mixtape by tonight,” I said, giving him props.

  “You saying that jokingly, but we just might. Ain’t no rest gonna be had at the crib with Samira on a rampage, so I might camp out here and throw myself into the music.”

  “We cool and all that, bro, but I’m not about to have a two-man slumber party. After I lay this next verse, I’ma cut back out to Jamila’s crib.” I wanted another piece of K.P.’s wife, but the snake in me wouldn’t let me drop the ball that I was now banging her.

  “Oh, yeah, with all my mess going on, I forgot you was smashing that,” he chuckled with an odd expression on his face.

  “Well, pay better attention.” I snuck a gut shot in without him knowing. “You ain’t the only one gettin’ pussy out here.”

  Buzzing myself out to give King some privacy to check on Rayna, I called Samira to see if she’d cooled down. Real bad boys moved in silence right in front of your face.

  Rayna

  “Well, kiddo, if ya daddy pulls a slick move disappearing on us, it’ll just be me and you. Regardless of his actions, however, I promise to be the best mommy to you I possibly can be.” My son wasn’t a day old but already strapped with abnormalities. He’d come from the womb a warrior and deserved a mother who was just as strong a fighter.

  King was gone, but I kept him up to date via text messaging with all of our son’s progress. No matter how in depth my messages were, his responses remained short and sweet: “Okay, tell him Daddy loves him,” and “Thanks, kiss him for me.” My heart wouldn’t let me complain, for it was too overjoyed that he was including us in his life. It felt good to no longer feel regret for purposely getting pregnant.

  “Hey, boo, how’s my nephew doing? Let me get some auntie time in.” Tiana held her hands out.

  I passed him over with a smile. There wasn’t a chick in the world I wouldn’t ride harder for. Tiana might as well have shared my bloodline, because no matter what, she couldn’t do no wrong from here on out. “Thanks for everything. He wouldn’t even be here without you, T. Can you take the honor of being his godmother?”

  “Aw, I’m flattered.” She rubbed Junior’s fingers. “I’ll be like your fairy godmother, K.J.,” she spoke to him in a baby voice. “And it ain’t nothing, sis. You already know how I get down. No one I love suffers, and li’l man right here is always gonna be straight.”

  “I swear you and King better not be on no bullshit when it comes to holding him down. Both of you have promised not to abandon him.”

  “Well, since you brought him up and made me godmother, let me give you my opinion.” Still cuddling up to my and King’s son, Tiana didn’t hold anything back when it came to telling me what she thought about the only man I truly loved. “You already know how I feel about how you and him get down. However, if he’s gonna do right by Junior, it ain’t much I can do but support him. I just need both of y’all to realize this is much bigger than some quick dick, nut, and fuckin’ shit that y’all got accustomed to doing at the studio. King Jr. deserves a real mom and dad.”

  “You ain’t telling me nothing I don’t already know, sis. Trust and believe that I’m not going back down the same path. He can either do right by me and Junior or get gone.” Fumbling with the bag Tiana brought with my clothes to go home in, even I didn’t believe the words rolling off my tongue.

  “Naw, Rayna, listen up good. I think, as a friend, I should tell you something you might not want to hear.” She looked up at me, seeming like she was slightly afraid to say what she was thinking. I swallowed my pride, knowing her words were about to hurt. “Real talk, boo, you know I love you like we’re flesh and blood, so don’t take this the wrong way,” she tried prepping me.

  “G’on and spit it out.” I looked her straight in the eye. “I respect whatever it is you must say. You’ve been down with me since day one.”

  “Cool, because I ain’t trying to cut into you. I’m trying to save you from the bullshit I know his daddy is known to pull. If he stay with that trick Samira but still do for his kid, Ray, fall back. Don’t be that type of baby momma niggas love to hate.”

  I wanted to buck at Tiana and say I was more than just a groupie chick. But the truth had been on the floor since the first day I fucked him at the studio. King kept our relationship behind closed doors but paraded Samira to the world. The jealousy that brewed inside of me each time he put her before me was what sparked my sneak pregnancy attempts in the first place. Now that my secret weapon was here, it was time to claim my man. Little K.J. was gonna aid as my crowbar to help pry King and Samira apart.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jamila


  I paced my small bungalow home feeling some sort of way. I thought King would’ve been here by now to hear the information I was holding on reserve. Not only was he in the wind, but Rayna’s best friend’s Facebook feed had dried up, too.

  A few hours ago, Tiana kept posting picture after picture of K.P. and his new baby, and I could tell from his smile he was in love. Since I was bitter about Samira fucking my potential nigga, I purposely liked the photo so it would show up in her feed. My intentions weren’t good. I wanted Samira’s feelings driven into the ground even further. It was about time someone joined me at the bottom.

  With all the love I had to give, I always ended up alone. I’d been around long enough to know life isn’t fair, but when it came to my love life, that department seemed considerably unreasonable. Even home-wrecking-ass Rayna found a way to hold on to a man. If I ever got the chance to trap a nigga, trust that in a flash I would. Samira kept calling, but I didn’t have it in me to play the whole “hang up” thing off because I was saltier than ever. When was it going to be my chance at love?

  When my alarm went off that my show was about to come on, I popped a bag of butter lover’s popcorn then curled up with my throw blanket on the couch. Love & Hip Hop’s new season was getting ready to air within the next week, so VH1 was playing a marathon of the previous season. I couldn’t wait to get caught up in their drama since I didn’t have a man in my world to have any with. I lived vicariously through Stevie J and Joseline, and if I got five minutes of fame, I’d pay my fare and hop on the bus, too.

  During the commercial, I checked my phone and saw no one, not even slick-ass Johnie, had called. It was really bothering me that King hadn’t reached out, so I shot him a text with the word “Congrats.” That way, if he did forget about my call and plea to him earlier, his memory would be triggered. It was the oldest move in the book, but one I hoped would work.