The Wild Child

by Nicole Jackson

  I frowned. “Why you say that?”

  “That nigga Cornell plays for Dallas too, and he said that Dorian wanted to come up here, but he sat this one out. That nigga knows how it’s coming, and he don’t want no smoke. It’s about twenty niggas ready for a command to slide his ass, without you moving a muscle.”

  I nodded and he paused.

  “Aye, why is my sister over there looking like that?” he questioned.

  I shrugged.

  He frowned. “Yall into it?”

  I licked my lips. “I aint feeling her, right now.”

  He squinted. “For what? What did she do?”

  My nostrils flared. “I’m tired of having to address anything concerning her and that nigga. That’s what.”

  “I mean, you feel like she wanna fuck with ole boy or something?”

  “Nah,” I denied. “I never said all that.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  I slid my tongue across my teeth. “Let me ask you this. How do you think she’d act if there was this bitch that had caused problems in the past? People swore that I’d fucked her, the whole nine. Do you think that she’d just laugh it off, if I stood and took pictures with the bitch, or would it be a problem?”

  Jah chuckled. “Oh, it would definitely be a problem.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “Hey, I hear you, but I hope you don’t get caught up in that shit.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Get caught up in what?”

  “You know. Worrying about what people say and think. You can’t control that shit and my sister can’t, either. We all know that this fame shit aint real. These people see a few pictures on the web and swear they know us. You’ll be a slave to this shit if you waste time worrying about people’s perception of you. Then let’s keep it real. My sister…is beautiful. I hate the shit most of the time, but it’s the truth. Niggas meet me all the time, I’m talking celebrities all over. And you know what’s one of the first things they ask me?”

  I tucked my lips into my mouth. “What’s that?”

  He smiled. “They ask me what’s up with my sister. She one of the baddest broads around. Blah, blah, blah. Now, don’t get me wrong. Hearing rumors about you and your gal can be frustrating. I get it. Plus, I know exactly how hating ass niggas are. They’re ready to clown, swearing you’re on some sucker for love shit. Even your own teammates. Shit, just know that them same niggas are probably in her DM right now. And if you allow this to tear yall apart, them same niggas who cackle on the Gram will be more than ready to swoop in. They’ll wife her ass up, and have you wondering what the fuck happened. I mean, we both know that Jhyrah aint fucking around, but I know that your ego can’t handle people even thinking that she is. Don’t let a few pictures dictate your day. Fuck that nigga. If anything, make sure that nigga understand that he needs to keep his distance, but don’t take your frustrations out on Jhyrah. At least not this time. This wasn’t her fuck-up.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I hear you.”

  Before Jah could say anything else, Jhyrah sauntered up to me, and he smoothly stepped off.

  She gazed up at me. “You’re still mad at me?”

  I thought about it, as I studied her. “A little.”

  She gulped. “I thought about it, and I understand why you’re mad. I should’ve just walked off when he stood next to me. I fucked up.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t that serious. You walking off would’ve just drew more attention to the situation. That nigga knows exactly what he’s doing and that aint your fault.”

  “But you’re still mad at me—”

  “I was wrong for that,” I cut her off. “I’m tripping and I gotta take responsibility for that.”

  She wrapped her arms around my waist. “And it’s my job to make sure that you don’t trip.”

  “Nah, this one is on me.” I lowered my head to kiss her lips. “You hear me?” I slipped my tongue into her mouth and groped her ass. She tightened her grip on me, while bystanders looked on.

  And just like that, we were good again.

  Together we traveled to the edge of the roof and peered down at the crowd gathered in the middle of the street. We’d shut Liberty Road down as the whole city had seemingly come out. Slabs, which were custom painted cars, were swanging down the street. Lines of green, teal, orange, and red slabs came through bolted on rims we in Houston affectionately coined swangas. The crowds below us were so thick that people were literally standing shoulder to shoulder. Everybody was rocking to the music that was blaring from the gigantic speakers on the ground.

  I smiled to myself, loving how everybody had come out to celebrate my pops; the man who’d brought me into this world. It was a beautiful scene, indeed.

  ***

  “Lord, have mercy. Father, help us all. Since you supplied your phone number, I can’t help but call. Time for action. Conversating. We relaxing. Kicking back. Got you curious for thug passion. Now, picture that,” my pops rapped to my mama in the middle of our section. He was quoting Tupac word for word on the song Toss It Up. “Tongue kissing. Hand full of hair. Baby, look in my eyes. Time to make the bed rock. Baby, look how it rise—”

  Pops was rocking Balmain from his head to his feet, and my mama was too. They’d had us pretty young, so they both looked to still be in their prime. My mama was putting broads half her age to sleep with her shapely frame. Her and pops had been together seemingly forever, but there was still this spark in her eyes like she was teenaged girl, crushing on a boy. She’d never stopped blushing the entire time, as he rapped to her. I know she had to feel young as she wore tight jeans, and had her belly out, showing everybody that she still had it.

  Pops wrapped his arms around my mama’s waist. “Me and you, moving in the nude. Doing it in the living room. Sweating up the sheets. It’s the thug in me. I mean no disrespect when I tongue kiss your neck. I go a long way to get you wet. What you expect?”

  “Mannnn,” Jared dragged out as he stood next to me. “If these people don’t chill out, I’m about to burn out. This shit is embarrassing.”

  “No bullshit,” Little Jah co-signed as he watched his mama and daddy. They were no better. Big Jah was rapping to the song, while Raven was grinding on his dick.

  Little Jaylen chuckled. “Shit, what did yall expect? This is a gangsta party.”

  All I could do was shake my head. His mama and daddy were known for clowning, therefore, it was no surprise that they were dry humping each other like their kids weren’t a few feet away. Apparently, none of our parents gave a fuck that night, as they were reliving their heydays.

  “Aye,” Jared tapped my shoulder. “That nigga Tino and Falen gotta be drunk.” He pointed at our cousin. Tino and his wife were on some other shit, as he picked Falen up, acting like he was rabbit fucking her or something. I fell out laughing.

  “Mama, you’re doing too much,” Keyasia fussed, as she attempted to pull her mama away from her daddy, but Big Kevin wasn’t having it.

  “Key, chill out. Go find Wale or something. My woman is good, right here,” Big Kevin held.

  “But she’s bending it all over you. It’s embarrassing,” Keyasia argued, causing all of us to roar with laughter. It was clear that Key was wasted herself. Besides, we didn’t used to jokingly call her Queen Thot for nothing. She was usually the one bouncing her ass all over the place but wanted to shut the master down. The very same lady who’d taught her all her tricks.

  Honestly, we’d been in stitches since we’d all boarded the huge Benz party bus which carted us all to the club. We’d all been tossing back drinks, getting fucked up. Jhyrah, Daynah, and Josairah were too busy dancing their lives away to notice our parents cutting up. Usually, Jhyrah would try to keep it cute, but everybody she loved was in the building, and I guess that had her amped. I was about to step to her, when I spotted somebody.

  That nigga Dorian had boldly stepped in my pops’ section, after what had gone down earlier. Clearly, Little Jahrein was wrong. That
nigga did want smoke.

  “You can run the streets with your thugs. I’ll be waiting for you. Until you get through…I’ll be waiting—”

  “Oh, hell yes!” my mama boasted, along with all her girls. She was rocking to the beat, rolling her hips and shit.

  Shaking my head, I focused on that bitch ass nigga.

  “Aye, don’t do nothing crazy,” Jared spoke into my ear. “I’m finna get Chubby or somebody to handle that nigga.”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “I got this.”

  “You got this? Nah, bro. Think about your career. You can’t start shit off with a fight in the middle of the club.”

  “Aint gon be no fighting,” I contended, as I headed Dorian’s way.

  Noticing me coming his way, he lifted his head.

  “Aye, I don’t know if you caught the memo, but you aint welcome here, patnah.”

  He squinted. “But what’s the problem, man? I’m trying to figure that shit out.”

  “Look,” I licked my lips. “I aint about to engage with you in the middle of this club. You’s a disrespectful ass nigga. All in my gal’s DMs and shit. Ion like how you move, so I’m telling you to keep your distance. This is my first and last time telling you that.”

  The look of contempt on Dorian’s face wasn’t missed, but before he could reply he was shoved back with force. Chubby and three other niggas had stalked over and wasted no time.

  “Hey, man, what the fuck?!” Dorian blurted, as everybody glanced his way.

  “Daimo, get his bitch ass up out of here,” Jared commanded to the bouncer, as he stood next to me.

  Daimo nodded, before obediently escorting Dorian off the premises. I know that he was embarrassed, because he didn’t even put up a fight. Playing for those bullshit ass Cowgirls didn’t carry leverage in Paris’ Jay Spot, and now his hoe ass knew better.

  Jhyrah

  Daynah leaned against my shoulder, giggling. “Bitch—”

  I stopped dancing. “What?”

  “Why Dorian just got kicked out of this section. You missed it all.”

  I whipped my head around, but didn’t see anything beyond people partying.

  “He’s gone now.”

  “Oh,” I shrugged, as I went right back to riding the beat. It had been a long day, and I wasn’t about to dwell on the Dorian conversation for another second.

  “I pull up at the club VIP. Gas tank on E, but all dranks on me. Wipe me down--"

  “Hold up, hold up,” my silly ass boasted, as I popped my back.

  My parents were so wasted by time we’d hopped on the party bus that they said nothing about my risqué ensemble. The denim cuffed booty shorts I wore, landed right underneath my ass cheeks. My white off the shoulders cropped top stopped just below my breasts, while my heels were tall like a stripper’s. I had been drinking for a majority of the day and was probably severely inebriated. So, I was unhinged, as I shook my ass.

  “Jiggalating, I been rolling ‘bout a week,” Daynah rapped along, slapping my ass. We both laughed, knowing the song was referring to popping X, which most of us had done, before leaving for the club. “You can tell I got cake by the diamonds in my teeth.”

  “Wipe me down,” I chanted, as I wiped down my shoulder, chest, pants, and shoes.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I caught Jeremy staring. Wasting no time, I sauntered over to him, as he sat on the section’s couch. Sitting in his lap, I grabbed my knees, and went to work. Feeling the music, I ticked my hips, feeling his stiffness underneath me.

  He hooked an arm around my waist and spoke into my ear. “You better quit, before I fuck the dog shit out of your ass.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “You promise?” I rolled my hips.

  He lewdly smashed his hips into mine. “Oh, without a fucking doubt.”

  ***

  “When we fuck. When we fuck. I could be aggressive (I could be aggressive). I can be a savage (I can be a savage). I just need your blessin' (I just need your blessin'). Say that I can have it, yeah—”

  We were clearly on some other shit. After riding the party bus back to the Ward, Jeremy grabbed his daddy’s drop top Bentley. Our parents all ended their nights at hotels, therefore the Bentley wouldn’t be missed. We were supposed to be headed to the condo, but somehow, we ended up in a empty well-lit Walmart parking lot.

  Call me crazy, but it felt exhilarating to strip down and ride Jeremy’s dick out in the open with the top down. Tank serenaded us, as I rolled my hips, taking my time on the dick.

  “Damn, this pussy feels so good,” he breathed, before drawing a nipple into his mouth.

  “Ummmmm,” was all I could manage to say, as I listened to him glide through my wetness. Lifting up a tad, I managed to spread my legs, until I was doing a Chinese split.

  Aggressively, Jeremy gripped my ass with both hands. “Aww, shit,” he breathlessly panted, as he hammered into me.

  “Oouuu, yeah,” I curled my lips. “Fuck me. Fuck meeeeee!” my head fell back.

  “Uh, Jhyrah,” he growled. “I fucking love your nasty ass, man. I swear to God!”

  My eyed rolled into the back of my head. “I love you toooo. I’ll never, ever love another man the way that I love you. I want you to trust that. I’m begging you. Please, Jeremy,” I pleaded.

  He attacked my neck, sucking roughly.

  “Uh, baby, fuck,” I bit my bottom lip, while squeezing my muscles around him. “I’m ‘bout to cum on this big dick. I want you to bust all up in this pussy. Bury it deeeeep!”

  “Grrrrrrr,” Jeremy howled animalistic, as he barbarically pounded into me.

  Grabbing the top of his head with both hands, I fucked him back. I could feel his strokes quickening; therefore, I knew exactly what that meant. Quickly changing the plans, I hopped off his stiffness. Without instruction, he stood up with his dick in hand. Grabbing my head, he shoved himself into my mouth. Relaxing my jaw, I allowed him to release down my throat.

  Lovingly, he stroked my hair, as I continued to slurp on his now semi-erect girth. “I gotta listen to my brother sometimes. I gotta stop you from sucking my dick like this. The shit aint healthy. On God. Cause I’m thinking about saying fuck it. We can catch a red eye to Vegas and get married tonight. It’s whatever you want. I promise.”

  Chapter 22

  Jhyrah

  “Man, let’s go somewhere and turn up. Yall hoes are boring,” Roxy chattered, as we casually lounged around Mya’s living room.

  I’d met Roxy through Daynah, and I didn’t know much about her, besides the fact that she loved to party. I unquestionably could appreciate that.

  I smirked, knowing better. “These broads aint trying to go anywhere. You’re wasting your breath. Trust me.”

  “I don’t get it, though. You bitches all basically got keys to the city, yet yall are sitting around doing a bunch of nothing,” Roxy fussed.

  Glancing around the room everybody else seemingly half paid her attention, as they sipped wine and shit. It was me, Roxy, Daynah, Mya, Taraj, and Cavalli hanging. Don’t get me wrong, we’d been chatting it up, catching up on the latest gossip, but they were all mostly silent when we mentioned stepping out for the night. I didn’t understand their asses.

  With the summer closing out, Jeremy’s workout regimen had kicked up several notches. He had a chef coming in to cook healthy meals, the whole nine. Football had officially taken over our homelife, and I was trying to keep myself busy while my man handled his business. Ordinarily, I would’ve been settling into college, however, I’d chosen not to attend school this semester.

  Frankly, college sounded better in theory, but I was beginning to see it as a huge rip off. The average person went into life-long debt for a degree they probably didn’t even need. Hell, I had been undecided about my major, but regardless of whatever field I could’ve studied, it was redundant. In between my three online businesses, and my rare club appearances, I generated more income in one month than the average person with a degree acquired all year round. Crazily, I hadn
’t been completely dedicated to either business, yet they all earned a minimum of twenty thousand a month. Then when I could squeeze in the time, I’d make about ten racks to party at a club for the night.

  Truthfully, I’d been bouncing all over the place, trying to figure out what works for me. I wanted a clear career path. In the process, I realized that my style was one of my most influential selling points. Therefore, I came up with a brilliant marketing strategy. I’d always been into fashion and would often sit around and redress people in my head, imagining their clothes with a different style. So, I teamed up with some aspiring designers and came up with a complete clothing line, specifically tailored to my style. After coming up with a substantial number of articles of clothing, I began wearing them, low key marketing them. Of course, we had a website set up, and I directed everyone to the brand’s Instagram so that people could order. The catch was that I never acknowledged that the clothes were coming from my company. I know it may sound crazy, but it was done this way because there were too many crabs in a barrel on the net. People who never met you a day in their lives will be ready to tear you down. And sadly, they’d run with an endorsement when they thought that some other entity…or white person is behind the product. Nobody questioned the prices when I called my pieces high-end, since they believed that someone else had made it. However, I was a someone to know, people wanted to wear what me and my crew wore. The shit was backwards as hell, but I’d used their own twistedness against them this time, and the shit actually worked. The business was growing rapidly, making so much money that I questioned the purpose of higher education.

  Every successful person in my family was self-made and had made their first mil without touching a college campus. Yes, my mama and aunt both had degrees, but I honestly believe that they’d obtained those accolades because they were personal goals. I understood their need to rise above the status quo, doing everything society swore that they couldn’t, but I had nothing to prove. SATs and every other test affirmed that I was intelligent, so I didn’t have to finish college to prove that. I was already getting money and adding a college degree to that would only mean subtracting from the bank funds that were already made, regardless.