Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do Page 4

  “My bad,” was all I said to Kharla before leaning up some to kiss on her neck. Even though she’d been down here all night, she still smelled good as fuck. As I continued to kiss on her collarbone, she started to sob a little bit. Shit was nothing new.

  “Fuck you crying for?” I pulled back and looked up into her eyes.

  “Because I love you, Cortez.” She wiped her tears.

  “You know I fuck with you,” was the only response I gave when she started with that love bullshit.

  “It doesn’t seem like it.”

  “I do.” I kissed her collarbone again. “Bring ya shit up to the room so I can fuck you. That’s why you acting out.”

  She half smiled and stood up along with me while I took her duffle bag.

  As soon as we got on the elevator, she asked, “Can we go eat after?”

  Staring her down, I licked my lips, making her blush a tiny bit like always for some reason.

  “Yeah, I can take yo’ ass to eat. I need you to gobble this dick first though.” I put my arm between the elevator doors so she could walk off first and give me a view of her ass.

  “Oh my gosh, baby.” She giggled happily.

  Blaise

  Nichole: Bitttcchh what is going on?

  I looked down at my iPhone screen to see Nichole’s text with a link following it. I clicked it, allowing it to take me to Instagram, which of course was a post by one of those damn gossip blogs.

  It showed Merlin being thirsty in some Instagram hoe’s comments, and everyone was having a field day tagging me. I didn’t feel too jealous, but I was angry at the fact that he was out here embarrassing me. His actual actions didn’t bother me because I knew he was only doing this shit to piss me off and wasn’t even really feeling this bitch.

  Merlin and I hadn’t been on the greatest terms ever since I declined wanting to make a baby with him. I was so over these niggas humiliating me just because I wouldn’t do what they wanted me to. It was so immature and aggravating.

  “Is he serious?” Priscilla looked over my shoulder as we walked down the sidewalk, heading toward this store in Inglewood.

  “I guess so. I don’t even care. I need to be focused on this audition anyways.” I locked my phone up and dropped it into my Givenchy purse. For some reason, the fact that I was carrying a purse I’d purchased myself made me feel better in this moment.

  “True. I’m just surprised he would even be doing all that. He acts like you’re his everything.”

  “He wants a baby, and I’m not giving anyone a child again.” I shook my head as we entered the store. I needed a white t-shirt for my audition tomorrow, and these little hood stores near the swap meets always had that type of stuff.

  “I don’t blame you, Blaise. Y’all haven’t even been together long enough. Plus, maybe he needs to be trying to marry you before asking you to have his baby.” She sifted through some of the cheap clothes as if she would really wear this stuff.

  “Exactly, but I don’t want to marry him.” I glanced her way, and she nodded sympathetically.

  I loved talking to Priscilla because I knew she understood a lot. Plus, Priscilla had two kids, and it was hard on her when she tried to work, so I knew she would get me with this whole baby stuff.

  “Excuse me, sir, there is no smoking in here!” the lady working in the front of the store spat.

  “Suck my dick,” a male voice replied calmly, prompting Priscilla and I to look in its direction.

  Walking through, smoking a blunt like there weren’t four or five ‘no smoking’ signs plastered everywhere, was a hell of a man. He had to be about six feet four, shit, maybe taller, and he was solid; not body builder type, but he was surely in shape. I knew a simple hug from him would make me cum. Tattoos traveled from his neck, down his long muscular arms, then all the way to his hands, going perfectly with his super pigmented brown skin. The one reading No Good on his inner forearm was very telling.

  His facial hair was low, like his fade, and he had this sexy mug on his face as he took a toke on the blunt, pushing through the store. He ashed it in a newspaper up by the register.

  Turning his hat to the back, revealing his low, sexy brown eyes and surprisingly long eyelashes, he walked up to the elevated part of the counter and began conversing with the old Black man behind it.

  “What’s the champ doing here?” the old man cackled, and when he referred to this Greek God as ‘the champ,’ it hit me that he was Belly, the cocky ass shit talking boxer that people loved yet hated because of how confident he was. I never paid him any mind because I wasn’t exactly a boxing fan, hell, a sports fan period, but got damn was he a sight to see.

  I was staring so hard that when he turned to me, I froze up.

  “Fuck,” he spoke lowly, licking his perfectly thick lips and letting his eyes run down me. “You fine as shit.”

  When we made eye contact again, a sexy wide grin covered his face, and his teeth were a blinding white. Although I knew he made money, he was dressed down in a perfectly fitting white t-shirt, dark jeans, and all-black Chuck Taylors. He had on a gold rope chain, a fly ass Rolex, and a bracelet on the opposite wrist. For some reason, I liked the minimalist in him.

  “Thank you,” I finally spoke. Why the hell was I so nervous? This man had never even crossed my mind unless I ran across some article about him or something, yet he had me feeling like my legs would collapse under me.

  “I wanna fuck with you.” He moved closer, and I admit I was a little surprised by his brashness. This was a straight up and down hood nigga.

  “I’m sorry. I have a boyfriend.”

  “Fuck you telling me for?” He frowned sexily as Priscilla moved closer to me. I felt her stare at the side of my face momentarily. “I got a few bitches I fuck too, but I’m talking about you and me right now.”

  “Well, this is my man, not someone I just fuck,” I low-key snapped. He really just admitted the fact that he had bitches as if that would help his case.

  “I don’t really give a fuck if you got a nigga. He can’t beat my ass, I promise you. Plus, I’m just trying to make you cum because I know he don’t.” With a straight face, he handed me his iPhone with the phone application up for me to put my number in, as if everything I’d just said didn’t matter.

  Foolishly, I typed it in. Why did him offering to make me cum sound so good? And I knew he could do it; I just knew it.

  “Belly, leave that girl alone,” the old Black man chimed in as I handed him his phone back.

  “You know I got a weakness for pretty bitches,” he replied.

  “Excuse me? Who are you calling a bitch?” I turned my lip up. “I ain’t no bitch.”

  Chuckling as if he found my anger comical, he responded, “When I say bitch, I mean females in general. I do want you to be my bitch though.”

  I rolled my eyes, which made him grin again, as I walked past him, pulling Priscilla with me. I placed my things on the counter, and just as the man told me my total, Belly glided past me, gripping my hips in the process. His scent, even though it was mixed with weed, was intoxicating.

  Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, “You don’t wanna be my bitch?”

  I almost moaned in response, but instead, I nudged him off of me, feeling way too turned on. He wouldn’t move though, letting his hands slowly glide up and down my hips as if I belonged to him.

  “Move, please. I don’t want you all up on me,” I stated unconvincingly.

  “What’s your name?” He hugged on my body in a way that caused a shortness of breath. I was nervous and felt like I soon wouldn’t be able to control what I did next. If he put his hands under my dress, I was sure he would feel the wetness in the seat of my panties. And as forward as he was, I wouldn’t put him slipping his hand in my underwear past him.

  “I put it in your phone. Maybe you should look.” I just wanted him off me before I asked to be fucked. And he knew what he was doing.

  “I didn’t ask what the fuck you put in my phone. I want you to
tell me.”

  “Blaise.”

  Without another word, he finally released me. His hands felt strong against my body, so even though it only lasted a few minutes, I was horny and had goosebumps on my biceps.

  I shifted a little to watch him walk out after handing the clerk my bankcard, and as soon as he got outside, two dudes walked up on him.

  “The boxer.” One of the men laughed, but Belly paid them no mind as he went around them. “You think you the shit ’cause you moved up in life, huh?”

  “Oh shit,” Priscilla mumbled when the one who hadn’t said a word pulled a gun out and pressed it to Belly’s back.

  Belly turned slowly to face the men, towering over them only slightly since they were tall too. Finally, he smirked and then took a seat on the hood of what looked to be a ’67 Chevy Impala, waiting for them to kill his ass, I guess. Yeah, he was definitely a little off. It was probably all of them punches to the head in the ring.

  “If y’all gon’ shoot me, hurry the fuck up because I got shit to do.” He lit up a blunt as the men stood there, gun still out.

  WHAM!

  Before I knew it, the gun was in Belly’s hand, and he went across the face of the gunman with his free one, knocking him out cold. The man who’d done the talking darted off, running like he was Forrest Gump, and Belly was right on his heels, finally catching him when they got across the street. Immediately, he started whooping that man’s ass like he was on the clock.

  “Wait until his crazy ass dips.” I grabbed Priscilla who wanted to leave out the store now.

  A couple minutes later, Belly stopped, leaving the guy on the floor and walking to his car. We waited until he turned it on, cranked his music up, and then sped out of the area.

  “This is why I don’t like coming to the hood for any damn thing,” Priscilla fussed as we finally left out with my things.

  “Me either. I can’t believe my ass used to live over in these parts.”

  Laughing, Priscilla added, “But girl, I had no idea that nigga Belly was really about that life. You know most niggas front for the internet.”

  “I know—”

  The sound of some loud ass music that was a Jeezy song, cut me off mid-sentence. I looked to my left and saw Belly in his all-black Impala, with the passenger window down, grinning at me with his cute self.

  “Aye!” he hollered as if I didn’t see his foolish ass. “Stop fucking walking.”

  For some reason, I did, so he swooped closer to the sidewalk Priscilla and I were on since there was an indenture there.

  “Yes?” I frowned.

  “Come to my next fight.” He licked those supple lips as his eyes cascaded down my body for the hundredth time.

  “No. I have some other place to be.”

  “Please, beautiful.” His voice was still deep but had a sexy raspiness to it that made my clit perk up at its sound. That smile, that vibrant brown skin, those muscles, the tattoos… He was beyond handsome, and he knew it; I could tell.

  “Can my boyfriend come?” I felt myself smiling.

  He turned his music down a little bit then brought his attention back to me.

  “You can bring that nigga if you want to, as long as he don’t have an issue when I try to take you with me afterwards. I’ll beat his ass, and you probably won’t wanna fuck with him after that,” he spoke coolly so I believed him.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He chuckled and then turned his music back up before speeding off down the street.

  “Oooh, you like him.” Priscilla nudged me, snapping me from my thoughts.

  “Umm, no. He’s not my type at all.”

  “He may not be your type, but what about your pussy’s?” Priscilla laughed, and I did so along with her.

  I couldn’t stop imagining him fucking me ever since he’d mentioned doing so back inside of the store. I knew the dick was good; I could look at him and tell. He wasn’t shit, and ain’t shit niggas always had the best stroke.

  Just as the thought crossed my mind, I’d gotten a text.

  +1 (323) 555 - 8862: Belly.

  Later that evening…

  I’d just finished putting Island to bed, when I heard my phone ringing down in my kitchen. Coming to the front, I entered my large dining area then grabbed my phone off the table to see it was Merlin. We hadn’t talked all day, because I refused to hit him up about his behavior earlier. I didn’t have the energy, and I wasn’t in the mood. And no matter how many people tried to bring his bullshit to my attention on social media, I didn’t respond.

  “Hello?” I answered dryly.

  “Oh, you mad now?”

  “Merlin, what do you want? I have to get to bed so I can be up tomorrow for an audition. Maybe you should call that bitch you were being thirsty for earlier.”

  “I don’t want her. I was just trying to show you that you ain’t the only female I can be with. And I wanted to make you get some act right.”

  “I’m not a child, Merlin.”

  “Nah, you’re not a child, but you be around here acting like you ain’t got a fucking man like a bird. Posting sexy pictures on the gram, dressing like a hoe when you out, and coming on my fucking yacht with a thong on like you crazy.”

  “I was like this when you met me!”

  “I don’t give a fuck! Now that you’re with me, you need to tighten up. Y’all women do all this to catch a man that can save you but then act like you don’t wanna be saved.”

  “Merlin—”

  The beeping of my phone made me pause, and when I pulled my iPhone from my ear, I saw Belly was calling me. I hit ignore and then put the phone back to my face.

  “It’s time to settle down, Blaise. You can’t be acting the same now—”

  “Settle down? I’m twenty-three years old, Merlin. I’m not trying to settle down. I want to have fun, work, and take care of my daughter.”

  “See, this the shit I’m talking about. You…” he continued talking, but my phone was beeping again. I saw it was Belly, again, so I quickly told Merlin to hold on.

  “What?” I answered, irritated.

  Click.

  I looked at the phone to see he’d hung up, so after trying to understand what had happened for a few seconds, I snapped out of that then got back on with Merlin. As he talked and talked about my hoe tendencies, all I could think about was why that nigga had hung up on me. Just a couple minutes later, the beep came through again, and I immediately switched calls, not even giving Merlin the courtesy of saying hold on.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “That’s better. I don’t know who the fuck you was talking to when you answered the first time,” Belly replied in his sexy voice.

  “I was talking to whoever was on the other end of the line,” I spat. He wasn’t about to punk me.

  “Nah. Why I have to call twice for you to pick up, Blaise?” I could hear the wind on his end, so I knew he was driving.

  “Because I was on the phone with my boyfriend, so I couldn’t pick up. You should text me when you’re about to call so I can let you know if it’s okay or not.”

  He laughed heartily and mumbled something.

  “Nah, I’m gon’ call whenever the fuck I feel like it, and I expect you to pick up. I don’t give a fuck if y’all are on a date.”

  “And if I don’t?” I smirked.

  “I’ll just pop up on you.”

  “How will you know where I am?”

  “I have my ways, and you bet not be with him if I do pop up, or I’m gon’ be hot as shit. I’m telling you right now.”

  “You don’t even know me.” I giggled, plopping down onto my soft plush couch.

  “I’m a jealous muthafucka though, occasionally. And since I’m trying to fuck with you, I don’t want another nigga in yo’ face, even if he is ya nigga.”

  “So you wanna be my man then?”

  “Nah.” He snickered. “I said I wanna fuck with you, not all that other shit.”

  “What makes you think I’
d ruin my damn relationship to be one of your fuck buddies, nigga?” I was angry now, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “Because you’re talking to me, not his hoe ass, and you mad right now which means you wanna fuck with me too.” I listened to him drink something then he added, “My match is in Vegas. I’m gon’ fly you out. I’m hoping you let me fuck you, but we can chill either way.”

  “Okay,” I replied with a simper. I still wanted to hang out with him despite what he’d just admitted to me.

  This would just be for fun…

  Belly

  “You’re getting faster, that’s good,” my trainer, Victor, commented as he removed his hand targets.

  I was tired as shit because this nigga had me doing the most today. My Las Vegas fight would be my first televised match, so both he and I wanted to be sure I backed up all the shit I talked and kept my undefeated record. The goal every time I got in that muthafuckin’ ring was to knock my opponent on his ass and come out that shit a winner.

  “I didn’t think I could get any faster, but if you say so, nigga.” I shrugged with a grin, making Victor shake his head.

  “If a nigga ever knocks you down, he’ll be gloating for years with all the shit you talk, Belly.”

  “Yeah, but that ain’t gon’ ever happen, at least not in the next two decades.”

  Victor nodded, just as my manager, Carson, approached to go over business shit with me. After about an hour of chopping it up with his ass, I dipped out to get ready for this party shit I was rolling through on.

  Spring, this well-connected music mogul who also had his hands in other shit, was throwing this big ass party at his even bigger ass mansion up in the hills and shit. Nigga threw the best exclusive parties, and if you knew me, you knew I didn’t miss a spot where I could drink and mingle with some hoes.

  My phone started ringing as I drove home, and when I looked at the screen, I saw it was Sienna. Sienna was this bitch I’d been fucking with for almost a year now. Like Kharla, she was on me, 24 fucking 7, and acting like I was her nigga. Kharla knew about Sienna and vice versa. Both them bitches were equal in my life; something to fuck on when I wanted to, and something to be extra with when I was feeling like being a nice ass nigga. Neither one of them were sexy ass Blaise though.