King of The Hood 2 Page 7

  “My dude, I’mma say this once. Whatever the fuck yo weak ass got going on with Kimmy, handle that shit on yo time. This is my motherfuckin’ time. If I ain’t mistaken, yo bitch ass is here with yo wife. You disrespectful bastard. Take yo seat, leave my date alone for you make me show my ass.”

  “Damn right, Jameson. You better say that shit,” she cheered, like her ass was there.

  Giggling a little at her reaction. Before,

  “Tony lost some of his color. But he wasn’t going to be punked by no man, I guess. He eyed Jameson, then me. He hit me with a smirk, that let me know being an Investment Banker doesn’t mean you have the good sense God should’ve given you. He chuckled without humor before,

  “Negro, you can sit your broke ass down. I know your pockets ain’t deep enough to keep a woman like Kimmy happy. You ready to get your ass handed to you over a female who’s all about the bottom dollar. After you drop her off, she’ll be on my line letting me know everything that she needs.”

  “Now, that’s just dumb as fuck. He made his self look like a damn fool,” she blurted out, while shaking her head.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, well, I’m the one who ended up looking like a money grubbing, gold digging, slut.”

  “Well,” she hummed.

  “By Jameson’s next words,

  “Nawl, Mr. Money Bags, that’s where you’re wrong. She’ll be too busy getting her sweet pussy taken care of by a real motherfucka, to call yo ass. Now, the day after tomorrow, you know, once she recovers, you might hear from her.”

  “Oh, yes! I loves Jameson. That’s real nigga shit right there. Tony lil’ dick ass face cracked and crumbled, didn’t it?” She yelled, dancing in her seat.

  “Not only was he shamed faced, he started calling me out my name, while screaming about never fucking me. How I’m a teasing, slut ass, bitch. Before ‘itch’ was out his mouth good, Jameson knocked his ass out. He was laid out on the damn floor when his wife returned.

  She looked from him, to Jameson, to me, for an explanation. I wasn’t gonna say shit. But Jameson being the man that he is, let her ass know that her husband is a disrespectful, cheating ass, bastard. He told the woman to check their accounts, if anything looked suspect, he most likely spent, brought, or gave me, or some other woman, the money. He finished by telling her to take his ass to the cleaners in the divorce.

  Security came and the woman was so happy about what Jameson revealed to her. She told them her husband was the aggressor, while trying to attack me, and my man just took up for me. They let us go. I thought we would have some type of words, then fuck away our aggression, but I was so wrong.

  Jameson went in on my ass, pissing me off. I let him know we were never committed to one another. I never asked his ass to do shit for me. Everything he did was because he wanted to. He didn’t appreciate my words. We argued all the way back to my car. Which, at that time, he stated,

  “This is why I don’t know where you lay your head. You’re too afraid we’ll meet during the shift change.”

  “Oh, my damn. That’s cold as fuck. Damn, Jameson gangsta. What else happened?” She questioned, with her eyes wide.

  I’m not even surprised by her reactions. If she didn’t have one, then I would be.

  “He pulled off, leaving me at my damn car. I got in and drove home with the entire evening on my brain. I honestly couldn’t find fault on my end. I’m always truthful. That’s why I don’t do relationships and commitments. How the hell he get mad at me? How the fuck Tony get his damn boxers in a bunch, with his lying ass?” I finished.

  My words were met by complete silence. Peeking out of my cocoon to see her face. At the look she’s displaying, I ducked back inside, where it’s safe.

  “Kimmy get yah ass out that shit. I need yah undivided attention,” she demanded.

  Taking a deep breath as I fought my way outta my safe place. I could’ve ignored her, but she just would’ve turned me over out of my bean bag. Climbing to my feet, I moved to her recliner with my head hanging like a child that’s about to be scolded.

  “Kimmy, you know I love you. You know I got yah back no matter what. You also know when yah ass is wrong, I’ll always be the first to tell yo ass. I’ve made mention to you so many times about the shit you do. Yes, you’ve been up front, but that’s not gonna stop a man who’s kicking money out on you from expecting more than your pretty face, and conversation, in return. They’re spending time with you, sexing you, feelings are going to get involved. You shouldn’t even be surprised. I don’t want you to get hurt. Cut ties with all of them,” she preached.

  “I have,” I mumbled.

  “You have, what?” She questioned, with her eyebrow raised.

  “Cut ties. Tony is all the way out. Jameson ain’t talking to me. When Todd called me Sunday, I let him know I’m through with him.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” I questioned, looking.

  She cut her eyes at me like she wants to hit my ass.

  “And how did his emotional ass take it?” She clarified.

  Sighing, I leaned my head deeper into the cushion of the recliner.

  “He called me some names, while telling me he’s going to sue me for emotional damages, along with all the money he has spent on me,” I grumbled out.

  “That’s why you called in Monday. He don’t know where you stay, but he knows where you work, since you met his ass there. He got you scared or something?” She surmised, interrupting me.

  “Not scared per say, it’s just the venom lacing his words paused me. I didn’t know he could even get that demented,” I answered honestly.

  I argued with Todd for the better part of Sunday. Every time I hung up in his face, blocked his number, he called from another one. I usually get my brows, nails, and toes done, on Sundays. I actually pay extra, because it’s Sunday. He had me so nervous I couldn’t leave my condo. He knows the shop I go to, being that he’s met me there on several occasions to pay for my services rendered. I wasn’t in the mood to run into his ass.

  “So, wha’chu gonna do now?” She questioned, eyeing me.

  Shrugging,

  “Live my life. No matter how you look at it. I was not in the damn wrong. Many times, I didn’t even ask for anything. I-”

  “Stop lying, Kimmy. You may not have said, “Can I have?” But you throw out hints. You cooed, batted your eyelashes, made suggestions, until they said, “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I got you. Put it on my black card.” You did it without hesitation. How long did you really think you would have been able to keep that shit up without having sex? You sexed Jameson, his emotions got attached, and so did yours. Let that bullshit Kenya taught yah ass go. You’re in deep with Racks, without even knowing it,” she fussed, cutting me off.

  Eyeing her, she eyed me back, without blinking. I hate when she goes deep reading me like she can. I won’t admit the shit out loud though damn that.

  “I ain’t deep in shit. I’m leaving men alone for a while,” I lied.

  Shaking her head while smacking her teeth.

  “I’m, always here for you, girl. You need to really think about just chillin’ out. I’m bout to go shower so I can head up to mama’s. Do you want to come?” She asked, standing.

  “Nope, I’m staying my ass here and going to ‘Creamy Pies.’ Maybe seeing some ass and titties will change my view point on some shit,” I added, standing.

  She paused in her steps, while turning her body slightly to eye me.

  “You ain’t switching teams, are you?” She teased, with a perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

  Smacking my teeth.

  “Hell no. Shit will never get that damn bad for me. Shit, good dick makes things better. I don’t believe a hardened clit will do that,” I sassed, walking pass her into the kitchen.

  Rinsing my glass out then placing it in the dishwasher. Doing the same with the empty plate that housed the bacon. That task completed, I grabbed the dishtowel, wetting it, wiping
down everything including the inside of the sink. Moving quickly, I got the broom and dustpan outta her side closet and began sweeping and humming.

  “Well, damn, boo, thank you,” she called out.

  Waving her off, I finished my task. I always try to help in some kind of way while I’m staying with her. Impressed with my job, I put everything back then headed upstairs after washing my hands. Hitting the top landing, I should be surprised that she’s waiting on me, but I’m not. She had something to say before my impromptu cleaning spree. Preshus always gonna get her thoughts out.

  “Now, go to ‘Creamy Pies’, hold on to being strictly dickly. My girls can turn a straight female crooked. You haven’t been in a while. The fact yah ass is going on the Fourth is all the better. Be prepared for those fireworks,” she bragged, before walking off, while making her ass clap.

  If I had a tenth of the talent Preshus got, I probably would’ve been on a damn pole. I’ve seen her in action, the shit she can do with her body is damn near sinful. I bet all those years Mama Godwin paid for her to take gymnastics and dance, she never thought those things would be used the way that Preshus’ uses them.

  “You better do that shit. Are you looking forward to the cookout?” I called out, halting her standing ovation.

  “Hell no! Mama think she’s slick, I know she’s on her matchmaker shit. She gonna make me show my ass. I’ll take that ass whuppin’ that will result from it. Her damn biological grandma clock is ticking,” she fussed, standing in her doorway, causing me to holler.

  Her mama has been on her for the last two years about settling down.

  “Shut up, Kimmy. I’m thirty, not no damn fifty. I got time to have babies and a relationship. Hell, I ain’t even got a damn suitable man,” she sassed, rolling her eyes so damn hard, I’m surprised she didn’t give herself a headache.

  “Stone,” I teased, watching her.

  Instead of an immediate reaction, she blushed.

  “Nun uh, Miss. Thang. What was that?” I called out, walking up on her.

  “Nothing,” she said, quickly, moving further into her room.

  “You a lie, and the truth ain’t in you,” I teased.

  Clucking her tongue, then in rapid fashion, she filled me in on what I missed out on since Friday. My mouth dropped at each word she let fall from her lips. She finished, staring at me, waiting for my response. I can’t lie, I’m speechless. She didn’t push or urge me to speak. She started moving around her room, gathering clothes and such.

  “Well, I be damn. Stone got that ass shook. Yass! His ass is mad disrespectful, but you can tame that like only you can. Shit, you better watch the hell out. I wouldn’t be surprised if his ass ain’t stalking ‘Creamy Pies’, ready to snatch you off the damn stage,” I taunted, although my words held some truth to them.

  She halted in her closet. The shit is huge. It has racks, shelves, mirrors, an ottoman. Everything has a place.

  “What the fuck ever. I ain’t the damn one. Stone gonna fuck round and make me shoot his ass,” she barked, dead ass serious.

  “M’kay,” I sung out, backing out her room.

  “Punk,” she hissed, causing me to holler.

  Laughing as I entered my room closing the door behind me. I made my way to my phone. Picking it up, I once again checked my messages. My voice messages. Punching in my code.

  Message one: “Baby girl, I’m sorry for Saturday. Now that my wife is aware of my infidelities. She has left me. We can now get back together. I still have most of my money. Call me back, baby, please.”

  “El stupido,” I hissed, hitting number five, deleting that shit.

  Message Two: “Bitch! You can run, but you can’t fucking hide. I’ll catch your hoe ass if it’s the last fucking thing I do. You will pay for doing me wrong. I promise you. You have not heard the last from me. Nothing ass bitch.”

  “Fucker, his ass done took a dive off the deep end,” I mumbled, while hitting number seven to save that shit.

  Message Three: “Bitch.”

  “Save,” I mumbled, doing the same as the message before it.

  Messages four, five, six, and seven, got the same damn treatment.

  “Todd’s ass better go play in traffic. I see a restraining order in his damn future,” I surmised, out loud.

  Message Eight: “Kimmy, we need to talk. I mean, really talk. I thought about the things I said to you and realized I was out of line. You really do mean something to me, as much as I don’t want to admit it. I’m off today, so whenever you hear this, call me.”

  “Damn it, Jameson. Why you got to sound all sincere and shit?” I spoke out loud, listening to his message again.

  His voice just does something to me. It goes straight to my clit.

  “There you go again, Kimmy, letting your pussy speak for you,” I grumbled to myself.

  “But what would a conversation hurt?” “Nothing,” I questioned and answered myself, as I hit his contact.

  Listening to his phone ring as I gnaw on my bottom lips. Something I do when I’m nervous.

  “Hey, Kimmy. How you doing? Are you okay?” He questioned, in his of greeting.

  Releasing my lip along with the breath I’ve been holding.

  “I’m okay. Um, how are you?” I spoke almost too quietly.

  “Honestly, I miss you. I feel like a damn fool. A lot of things became clear to me. You were right, you never once came out and asked me for nothing. I did for you out of the kindness of my heart. We weren’t exclusive. That was my fault. I didn’t make my wants clear. That’s on me. Something else I picked up on. You lied to me. You weren’t afraid of the public outings and crowed places. You just didn’t want to be seen in public with me.

  I get it. I’ve always gotten it. From the first day we met, I knew you were out of my league, just by your looks alone. I was always taught that my good heart would outshine what I lack in my features. That a real woman would accept me for who I am, flaws and all. I never saw myself as ugly. I’m not what most deem as handsome. I’m okay with that, I love me though.”

  He let me know, without taking a breath. His words stunned me into silence.

  “I know I laid a lot on you. Anybody who knows what we’ve been through would call me a damn fool for even talking to you. But I really do believe there’s more to you. I really want to talk to you face to face. Are you home now? Do you have plans for tonight?” He spoke, in lieu of my silence.

  “Um, I’m not home. I’m out of town, Augusta, to be exact, visiting my best friend. She’s off today, so we decided to hook up. I’ll, um, I’ll be back home Wednesday. Maybe we can get together Wednesday night after I get off work,” I suggested.

  Silence resonated through his side. Pulling my bottom lip in, I began gnawing on it again.

  “Okay, that’s fine. Be safe, okay?” He answered.

  “I will, thank you, Jameson. Um, before you hang up, I want you to know everything with you wasn’t a game. I enjoyed your company and conversation. Also, you were the only man I was sleeping with. You can think whatever you want about me. I have never had sex with two men at the same damn time. I respect my body. You, Jameson, have done shit to my body I didn’t know could be done. That’s the honest to God truth,” I let him know in one breath.

  Falling back on the bed in disbelief that I even said that to him. I’m breaking all kinds of rules.

  “Thank you for telling me that. I was wondering. I’ll see you on Wednesday, at seven. That’s good?” He finally spoke.

  “Yes, yes, that’s fine,” I rushed out in a hushed whisper.

  “Okay, be good. Talk to you soon,” he let me know, before hanging up.

  Moving my phone to my face I made sure the line hung up. This is something new for me. Now, the question is, can I really handle it? What will I be really offering Jameson? I haven’t been in this type of situation in forever.

  “I guess I’m growing up,” I mumbled, into the empty room.

  $$$$$$$$$

  Later that night…… />
  ‘Whistle while you twurk

  Go head and start and make that pussy fart and whistle while you twurk (twurk summin’)

  ~Ying Yang in this thang (Ying Yang)

  Let me see you make that pussy fart.

  Good Lord make it shake like a salt shaker.

  So hard ‘til you can’t get up no mo’

  See, I love when you hoes take it to the floor.

  Baby, bounce, biggy bounce, ugh, it’s on you

  Shawty, you can twurk in your shirt.

  “Yass, twurk summthin’,” I sang along, as Red tore the stage up.

  I don’t know what the hell Preshus was talking about. The way this club is set up, they are doing the damn thing. The hell with it being a damn Tuesday.

  “You better not hurt nobody. Shit, you should be on stage. You wanna anotha drink, Kimmy?”

  “Yes, please,” I answered Luke, the bartender on the main floor.

  He’s handsome, talented, and bi-sexual. He’s up front with his business, which I respect. No woman, or man, can say they didn’t know.

  “Hey, sexy, I hope I don’t offend you when I say this,” a voice to the right of me spoke in my ear.

  Stifling an eye roll. His line is so weak and redundant. I’ve heard it at least six times since I’ve been here.

  “Oh yeah, and what’s that?” I sassed, giving him my attention.

  He’s cute enough but broke as hell. His jewelry is fake, by the way he’s standing, his shoes are too small, which means, borrowed. He’s rocking a Rolex, but it’s outdated, and the battery is dead. He shaved his self, along with lining his self up and is rocking hazel contacts.

  He licked his crusty lips, which didn’t help at all.

  “That you have the type of body, look, attitude, that should be on stage. I can make that happen for you. Meet me for a private audition. We can do this tonight, while I’m not busy,” he stated, eyeing me like he’s undressing my ass.