Enjoy this unedited excerpt.
Tentative Release Date: September something or other!
Melody He was a friend of a friend, and a fine one at that. Had money, drove a nice ride and stayed on a side of town where nobody knew my name. I didn’t typically go for his type, clean cut with no warrants out for his arrest. But he’d do for the weekend. Wasn’t like I was tryna bring him home to mama.
Chris was his name, and the name I’d given him was a fake one to match the phone number of the prepaid cell I’d dropped in the pocket of his slacks when we brushed shoulders in the hallway at my home girl’s boutique launch party. He was there with somebody, so I kept it discrete. But he and I both knew what would be going down as soon as he got a minute away from his extra clingy ass girlfriend. There was no mistaking that “I wanna taste yo’ pussy” look on his face every time our eyes met from across the crowded room. It was a shame that his girl couldn’t see it. So preoccupied with making purchases that she had no idea her man was out here choosing.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” My friend and owner of the newest, hottest spot in Southeast Houston, Kendra, snuck up behind me, peeping over my shoulder almost catching me sending a racy text to Chris in response to the one he’d sent to me less than five minutes after I gave him my number.
“What? I was not smiling.” I yelled over the music, killing the screen and dropping the phone in my clutch. She knew Chris and his girlfriend and wouldn’t be ok with me potentially breaking up their “happy” home.
“I saw you drop that foodstamp phone in your purse, bitch. You better not be in here with your bullshit tonight.” She loudly warned, a smirk curling her thin lips as she stepped up beside me.
Though her idea of bullshit was my idea of a good time, I respected her enough to keep the truth to myself. “I’m not.” I lied, bumping my curvy hip against her slender one. “I’m just here to support my friend. Ain’t none of these bougie niggas my type, anyway.”
“Oh, you mean taken?” She squeaked. “Cause I could’ve sworn that was your favorite.”
“I’ve changed.” My voice went up an octave, accepting a drink from the server who’d been on his feet all night keeping the bubbly flowing.
“Bitch, you ain’t changed nothin’ but your panties.” She giggled. “And you probably ain’t even wearin’ none.” With catlike eyes, she looked me up and down, stopping to join me as I busted out laughing.
“Ain’t!” I wiggled my behind, catching Chris trying not to stare a hole through my dress from the corner of his eye.
I couldn’t wait to see if the heaviness in his steps had anything to do with his package. It was my experience that niggas who walked with purpose did so for a reason; namely to destroy every pussy in their path.
“Triflin’.” Kendra shook her head, taking a sip from her champagne flute. “What you gettin’ into after this? You and Maurice got any plans?”
“Maurice is busy.” I cut her off at the mention of her brother’s name. “We have one thing in common and he’s behind on his payments.”
“Really, Mel?” She squinted as I kept my eyes forward, having found a way to look at Chris without anybody knowing. “You’re a special kinda silly for filing pet support on my brother. He don’t even like the damn cat.”
“Like it or not, he knew coming into this that he’d be getting two pussies, not one.” I rolled my eyes from Chris to Kendra’s skinny ass.
“And Tuna likes him. She told me her self.” I kept a straight face though my friend thought my cat’s attachment to her brother was a figment of my imagination, seeing as she’d attacked him every time he walked through our apartment door.
I also neglected to mention what her brother was busy doing, because apparently, an entire two months after the threesome between me, him and Delvin, he still wasn't ready to tell his family that he enjoyed having sex with his homeboy. Maurice hadn’t come home to do more than pack an overnight bag for the last couple of days. And I didn't give him any lip about it because I knew exactly where he was going. Delvin had been texting me to let me know Maurice was okay. They’d been spending time together trying to figure things out. And I was happy for the dude. I really and truly was.
“Tuna is a crazy bitch and so are you.” Kendra's bony shoulders bounced with laughter. “I’mma go make my final round before we wrap things up. You good?” She asked on a deep, smiling breath.
“I’m great.” I replied, slowly pulling my temp-cell from my purse. “And congratulations, again. I can’t wait to show out in that Kendra Sway romper.”
“Thank you, sweets.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek. “And you better tag me on your raggedy ass Insta Story when you do!” She spun away on a pair of fuchsia heels that added just the right amount of flavor to her lemon-yellow wrap skirt and ice white camisole under a high collared denim blazer. Kendra could pull off any ensemble with that flawless golden skin. But those vibrant colors had my girl shining bright like a diamond.
As soon as she walked away, I opened the text that had come through from Chris.
281-330-8004: Think I can see you around 1?
Damn, I had to give him points for being direct. Up until that text he’d been keeping it pretty cordial. He must’ve sensed that I wasn’t with the bullshit when I started dishing out one word responses.
Me: In the morning?
713-330-8004: Yeah. I mean unless that’s a problem.
Me: It’s not.
713-330-8004: Bet. See you then. Frazee Spa and Hotel. Room 1007. I’ll leave a key at the desk. What’s your real name?
Me: What makes you think Trina’s not my real name?
I looked up from the phone and caught him smiling down at his before he looked up at me too.
713-330-8004: You don’t look like a Trina. And they’re gonna ask for your ID. Frazee don’t fuck around like that.
I took a deep breath as if telling him my real name would make a difference in what was gonna go down either way.
Me: Melody Bledsoe.
713-330-8004: Got it. Nice to meet you Melody!
He left an exclamation mark. And I absolutely hated niggas who sent texts with exclamation marks.
Me: I bet it is…
The look of disappointment that crossed his face as he read that message almost made me feel bad. But then I remembered, this nigga was standing right next to his girlfriend planning a whole smash-session with another woman. He didn’t need pity. He needed his trifling ass kicked.
Unfortunately, all I could offer him was some good pussy.
(The rest is coming soon...)