No Matter What

by Nicole Jackson

  He nodded. “I got you.”

  “I’m so sleepy, but I wish I could take a bath.”

  Mix didn’t respond, as his cell rang. Keeping his back to her, he answered. “What’s poppin’, nigga?”

  “You tell me, with ya wild ass,” Lickz, Mix’s big homie, chuckled into the phone. “I heard that you was on your best bullshit yesterday, nigga.”

  Mix chuckled, as he bent over to grab a bag. “Hell, yeah.” Taking his time, he removed the clothing from the bag, searching for bras and panties, while nonchalantly joking about the incident between him and Save. After finding what he deemed suitable, he placed it to the side. He then retrieved a camisole and leggings, before placing everything into random drawers. After that, he unpacked a bag filled with her hygiene products, including her toothbrush.

  Nunnie lied on her side, arching a brow. Truly, she didn’t know what to do or say. For over nine months, Mix had been serving up nice helpings of dick and it indeed had her mesmerized, but she’d never gotten this type of treatment from him. Something in her heart always told her that he was holding back, but she was still lying there surprised by his actions. He and Save were young hardened criminals. They didn’t wax poetically about their feelings or stare deep into her eyes. The most she’d receive was some deep penetration and nice strokes, so this was a different pace and feel for them. Mix was seemingly catering to her needs, and she was literally lost for words, as he did it so naturally.

  “But yeah, man, fuck that nigga. Everybody been calling my phone all morning, trying to see what’s up. You the last call I’m taking on the situation. It is what is. They gon talk, regardless. They can all suck my dick, as far as I’m concerned. That nigga done fucked plenty of other nigga’s hoes, but I’m in violation. Okay. Let me be. I accept that. Now what?”

  “Say, that aint my place to judge. Especially not when it comes to Save’s ass, cause that nigga was fucking everything moving. You right about that,” Lickz concurred. “But I’ma let you go, boy. I’m finna go handle this business, right quick.”

  “Bet,” Mix agreed, ending the call. He then turned to face Nunnie. “Aye, I got everything ready for you to take a bath. So, come on.”

  Rolling over, she sat up. Taking a stretch, she yawned. “Okay.”

  Following his lead, she stood up. He grabbed her belongings, before grabbing her hand. Tugging her along, he guided her to his grandma’s room. Since her door was wide open, they knew that she had to now be in another part of the house. Therefore, they sauntered in, and tipped into her bathroom. After locking the door behind them, Mix placed all Nunnie’s things on the countertop near the sink.

  “Sit down,” he instructed, while he freely roamed around the spacious bathroom, which came fully equipped with a glass stand-up shower and a separate oval bay tub.

  Listening, Nunnie sat on the toilet seat, while he graciously got on his knees and scrubbed the tub clean for her. Frankly, even before the tub was properly cleaned, it was a huge step up from Marie’s bathroom. Marie’s home offered only one outdated bathroom with a tub that Nunnie barely wanted any part of her body in contact with. Therefore, she never bathed in it, and loathed showering in it. In fact, she’d literally bought shower shoes specifically for the tub to avoid direct contact. So, this simple home was nearly a castle when compared to her old living conditions.

  By the time Mix had run had bath water and had bubbles floating in it, she felt like a princess being placed on a little pedestal. Nothing Save had ever done came close.

  “Get in,” Mix urged, as he sat on the counter in front of the vanity mirror, while firing up a blunt.

  Quietly, Nunnie undressed, before slipping into the hot water. It was the perfect temperature for her sore and battered body. Unconsciously, she reclined in the tub, as her eyes lowered. Using his cell, Mix played music on YouTube, further relaxing her.

  “‘Cause I love me, I love me enough for the both of us. That’s why you trust me, I know you’ve been through more than most of us. So, what are you? What are you, what are you so afraid of? Darling you, you give but you cannot take love—” Jhene Aiko’s gentle voice floated through the bathroom.

  Mix nodded his head to the beat, as he listened to Drake rap his verse. Nunnie recognized him intentionally choosing something on the softer side, probably to help soothe her.

  Before either of them knew it, time coasted by, as they became lost in the music and peace. Truthfully, it had been so long since Nunnie had been able to relax like this. Back at Marie’s there weren’t too many moments completely alone, because there simply wasn’t enough space. So, often she didn’t get to stop and think about much. Perhaps this was how things had spiraled out of control. She just moved about without thinking, walking herself right into the middle of complete chaos. However it went, she wanted it all behind her now, as she prayed that she could move forward with Mix…if he’d have her.

  Mix had maneuvered from the counter to the toilet seat, which was closer to the tub. He’d moved closer to pass Nunnie the blunt and hadn’t bothered vacating the spot since. He was now rocking to the music, while blowing smoke from his nostrils as he focused on Nunnie, talking her ear off.

  “Nunu, this our shit, right here. That pussy topflight. No bullshit.”

  Nunnie giggled, listening to the song, while puffing on the blunt.

  “I can put you in the Mile-High Club, what’s up? Let’s take a trip. Have you ever read “The World Is Yours” on a blimp? Tell her be free, baby, spread your wings. Got your legs in the sky like a plane. Let me guide that, I’m the pilot.

  Can’t nobody see you 30 thousand feet. On your knees in them Prada’s. Makin’ freaky shit come up out her—”

  “Nigga, you stupid,” she tittered. “How this our shit?”

  “Cause it is,” he persisted. “I remember the first time I fucked you to it. Remember? You rode my dick in the back of Lickz’s car, while everybody was at that block party.”

  Nunnie’s clit thumped. “Yeah, I remember. Dreka embarrassed my ass that night too. Pulled me aside and told me that I stank. She thought that I left the house without washing my ass.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you know the shit wasn’t true.”

  “Yeah, but still. You had me a funky ass mess.”

  He smiled. “Aye, that’s on you. You was trying to stay on the scene and shit. I told you to take your ass home.”

  “But that was the biggest block party of the year. The fuck I looked like going home?”

  He bucked his eyes. “And what you smelled like at the biggest block party of the year, after a nigga blasted off all in that pussy?”

  Her shoulders trembled with laughter. “Fuck you.”

  “Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, as she suddenly decided to stand up, and get out of the tub. His words became lodged in his throat, as he studied her nakedness. Low key, he never quite got adjusted to her proportions.

  For years, Mix would literally jack off with Nunnie in mind. She had one of the sickest bodies around and had the nerve to be pretty along with it. So, to say that he was attracted to her would be an understatement.

  Grabbing a towel, she dripped water on the floor. Mix openly gawked at her fat pussy and sharp hips, as she attempted to wrap the towel around her body. Before she could complete her mission, he gripped the towel, yanking it out of her grasp.

  “What are you doing?” she whined.

  “You dried off already. That’s all you need that towel for, man. That’s it.”

  “Oh, so I can’t wrap it around my body?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “Cause you’on need that shit. It’s just me and you in here. What you covering up for?”

  She arched a brow. “So, I’m just supposed to walk around you ass naked?”

  He inched closer. “Every chance you get.”

  “Boy,” Nunnie smiled, as she found herself glancing up at the mirror, and was quickly reminded of her harsh circumstances. Her eye ha
d now blackened, and she had two knots on her forehead. She gasped. “Look…look at my face. I’m so ugly. How are you in here looking at me like that, when I look like this?” tears sprang from her eyes.

  Mix frowned. “Man, don’t ever let me hear you say no bullshit like that. Ugly? Not on your worse day. Shit, yeah, that nigga fucked you up. You got a few bumps and bruises, but that shit gone heal. And even if it don’t, you still prettier than a muthafucka. Cover the shit with make-up, until you comfortable. Whatever. But don’t stand here crying, when aint shit wrong with you. Fuck, you still got my dick hard, so you tell me what it is.”

  “Shut up,” she sniffed.

  “You shut up,” he whispered, as he wiped her tears away. Gripping her hips, he kissed her lips. “Sit down,” he instructed, as he pushed her onto the countertop. Pushing her legs apart, he dropped to his knees. He gazed up at her. “From my view, everything about you is fire. That’s all I fucking see. So, don’t ever let nobody tell you nothing different.”

  Hearing that, a chill shot up Nunnie’s back. He was seemingly laying down some type of foundation, luring her into an unbreakable trance. Biting her bottom lip, she watched, as he leaned in and flicked his tongue across her clit. Lifting her feet, she cracked her toes, as she rubbed his waves. “Damn, Mix, you showing out today. Is this what’s been waiting on me this whole time?”

  Mix didn’t verbally respond, as he swirled his head, darting his tongue expertly. Soon, Nunnie was swaying her hips, fucking his face.

  “Ooh, bae,” she panted, as her nipples pebbled.

  Going in for the kill, Mix slurped and sucked on her clit relentlessly. It’s a Vibe was playing in the background, and Nunnie’s freaky ass was rolling her hips to the beat, as she came all over his face.

  “It’s a vibe. Don’t you like? Your pussy drippin’. Gushin’, drippin’ down your thighs. It’s a vibe. Get high, Diggin’ deep while I’m lookin’ in your eyes. Vibe is the realest. I know you feel it. It’s a vibe. Different vibe. This my vibe, nigga. All the bitches like it—”

  Standing upright, Mix dropped his shorts and boxers. Holding her hips, he pushed inside of her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Nastily, they tongue kissed, as he sloshed through her gushiness.

  Once again Jhene Aiko put them in a zone. “That’s a vibe. That’s a vibe.

  That’s a vibe. Oh, that’s a vibe, yeah, yeah. That’s a vibe. It’s a vibe. It’s a vibe. That’s a vibe, yeah, yeah. It’s a vibe. Am I your type? Pussy tight. Maybe I’ll spend the night, yeah, yeah. That’s a vibe. Bust it, bust it wide. This the type of shit I like, yeah, yeah. That’s a vibe. It’s a vibe. That’s a vibe. Oh it’s a vibe, yeah, yeah. It’s a vibe, yeah, yeah, yeah—”

  With little effort, Mix managed to push Nunnie’s legs back to her shoulders, and power drill her. Like a champ, she took the dick as he delivered deep strokes, closing her legs around him, he knew that she could feel it all.

  “Damn, this pussy good,” he huffed. “Where you want me to bust this nut? Huh?”

  Nunnie licked her lips. “My mouth.”

  Mix smiled brightly, as he pumped harder. “You. Thought. That. Shit. Was. Gon. Work. Huh?”

  Nunnie shook her head, as she felt him jerk inside of her. “Why ask, if you were going to do whatever you want, anyway?”

  “Cause. Hearing you say that shit turns me on.” He continued to spill into her.

  “But not the act itself?”

  “I never said that.”

  “Then why you never do it?”

  “Cause,” he sighed, as he his head fell back.

  She bit her bottom lip. “Cause what?”

  “Cause nothing compares to busting in this pussy, Nunu. I put that on everything I love.”

  Chapter 5

  Dreka hopped out of Tink’s car that she’d borrowed and moseyed up to Mix’s grandma’s front door. Hearing loud talking coming from the house, she knocked on the door. Soon after, the door swung open.

  “Aye, what’s up, guh?” Mix’s cousin Creeky questioned.

  “Hey,” Dreka responded, as she sauntered into the house. Peering around, she noticed that Mix’s uncle was lounging around on the couch, along with a couple of his boys, and Creeky’s kids were running around the room, as usual. “Where’s Ms. Gertie?” she wanted to know, because she’d never come in without speaking to the lady of the house first.

  “She at her sister house, guh. She won’t be back ‘til later,” Creeky reported, as she flopped down on her grandma’s favorite recliner. “Aye, yall going to The Address this Friday? Moneybagg nem supposed to be there.”

  Dreka nodded, because she’d sometimes club with Creeky, being that they were from the same hood. Creeky was a cute medium built light brown skin chick who loved to run the streets and pawn her kids off on any everybody around. She’d run up in the stores, snatching up clothes to stay afloat, and that was all that mattered to her. Looking cute with her stolen clothing and clubbing were her only concerns and Dreka knew this.

  “Yeah, we going. We already got a section. The whole nine. You already know how it’s going,” Dreka responded. “But yeah, where my sister at? I seen Mix’s car parked outside, but nobody’s answering their phones.”

  “Guh.” Creeky rolled her eyes. “Them people there, man.”

  Dreka scrunched up her face. “Them people what?”

  Creeky bucked her eyes. “Them people. They’re fucking weirdos. We can’t get them to come out of that room for nothing. I used to be able to chill back there once Mix hit the streets, but that shit is dead now. They fucking go from room to room together. Use the got damn bathroom together. The shit is psychotic. But granny just be letting them rock out in this bitch. That shit wouldn’t never fly if it was me, though.”

  Dreka shook her head. “I mean, have Nunnie at least been going to work?”

  “Yeah, I be seeing him take her ass to work. But I think he be staying up there with her ass. On some weird shit. I’m telling you.”

  Dreka tittered. “That’s crazy. Can you go back there and tell her to come here?”

  “Hell, nah.” Creeky shook her head. “I aint dealing with them fucking weirdos. You on ya own with that one. Shit, they’on be opening the door for nobody, no way. I mean, I was beating on that muthafucka the other day, cause my baby’s diaper bag was in there. You think they gave a fuck? They had that music playing, like always, and straight ignored my ass. But I needed that bag, so I popped the lock on them.”

  Dreka laughed harder. “And what did they do?”

  Creeky rolled her eyes again. “Mix’s bitch ass cussed me out, but do it look like I give a fuck? I grabbed my shit and got the fuck. Then he gon try to tell granny on me, with his bitch ass.”

  Dreka shook her head with a grin. “Yall crazy, but let me head back here. Their asses better open the door for me, because I came here to do a wellness check. So, I aint leaving here without laying eyes on my damn sister. It’s been damn near a month. And that aint even how we roll.”

  “I know, right,” Creeky concurred. “Shit, I’m in the same house with her, and really don’t see sus’ face, so you doing right. Aint no telling what that nigga be doing to her back there, while he be holding her ass hostage. Cause aint no way a nigga would have me cooped up in a room like that. I thought Nunnie was stiff around this bitch, but she letting Mix’s ass handle her.”

  “Oh, no,” Dreka mumbled, as she headed to the back of the house. “Won’t be none of that on my watch.” Stepping up to Mix’s bedroom door, she knocked.

  Just as Creeky predicted, there was music playing on the other side of the door. Thinking that perhaps her knocks couldn’t be heard over the music, Dreka knocked harder.

  “What the fuck,” Dreka’s lips curled, after standing in the hallway, and knocking for over five minutes. “Nunnie, open the door. It’s Dreka.”

  Needless to say, Dreka was frustrated after announcing her presence changed nothing. The volume of the music never lowered, and no one ever seemingly
made any effort to approach the door. Doing an about-face, she stamped back to the living room.

  “Man, Creeky, can you pass me a butter knife or something? These muthafuckas won’t open the door,” Dreka griped.

  “Bitch, Mix gon feel a way about you popping his lock,” Creeky warned.

  “Fuck what he feel,” Dreka scoffed. “That nigga gotta hear me knocking, but won’t open the fucking door. I’m trying to see what the fuck he got to hide. He better not be putting his hands on my sister.”

  “Man, yall need to mind yall business,” Ricko, Mix’s uncle spoke up. “Whatever they got going on in that backroom aint got shit to do with yall.”

  “Tuh,” Dreka sucked her teeth. “The hell you say. As I was saying, can you go get me a butter knife, Creeky?”

  “Yeah,” Creeky sighed, as she pushed herself off the recliner. She then jogged to the kitchen and returned moments later with a butter knife. “Here.” she handed it off to Dreka.

  “Appreciate it,” she clamored, before marching back to Mix’s door.

  Once again, she knocked, trying to give them the opportunity to the open up the proper way. After a couple of minutes, she accepted that she wasn’t going to get an answer, therefore, she proceeded to use the butter knife. Being a pro at getting into places she wasn’t welcome into; it didn’t take long for her to pop the lock on the door.

  “There can be one only you. And baby, God could never make two. And I know you came here with your crew. But I promise you that it feels like it’s just us two. Oh, I don’t know what you had planned to do tonight. But I just wanna be the one to do you right. We’re standing here looking at each other, baby, eye to eye. And I’m hoping that you’re thinking about leaving with me tonight—” Chris Brown was blasting through the room.

  “What the fuck?” Dreka mumbled, as she pushed the door open, and immediately spotted her sister.

  Yes, Nunnie was legally grown these days, but Dreka had problems mentally accepting that, but there was no denying that she’d shed her innocence some time ago. That much was painfully obvious as she witnessed her sister take what looked to be nearly a foot worth of dick inside of her willingly. Nunnie could put the nastiest porn star to sleep, right then, as she rode Mix, stark naked.