Page 54 of Queen of the Pole

I would never tell these hoes about me, and Wolf. They fucked my last nigga to the ground! One bitch had such a time with that dick, that she’s standing just a few feet away from me, pregnant with his baby. Even though there really wasn’t much to tell right now between me, and Wolf, I wanted to keep that part of my life sacred. It’s to the point that I don’t even talk to my aunt, and my girls about Wolf, which wasn’t like me because I typically told them everything.

Then again, I guess a piece of me didn’t tell them because then I would have to explain what led me to staying with him in the first place. If either of them found out that Hitta put his hands on me, I know for a fact that they would be ready to kill him.

Yes, it was foul what Hitta did to me, but I wanted out of that part of my life. I was in a peaceful stage right now, and I wanted it to stay like this. The second I let the world in, and gave just a little bit about me, and Wolf, I felt like that’s when the drama, and the noise would come. I had enough drama, and noise to last a few lifetimes. I wanted peace now.

CHAPTER 16

WARREN ‘WOLF’ BENNETT

It was after three in the morning and I was sitting out on the balcony. My shirt was off. I just had on a pair of sweats. My slides sat on the floor, while my feet covered in socks were chilling on the railing. There was a cigar in my hands that I was holding to my lips, taking a deep pull. The way I was out here smoking, and vibing, you would think that it was after three in the afternoon, instead of three in the morning.

I felt movement from behind me, so I turned my head to see what was going on. It was Deja. She walked out in her pajamas and house shoes. Her pajamas were just a pair of long bottoms, that fit a little snug on her, so you got to see the shape of her body. The top was nothing but a thin, spaghetti strapped top, so I could see her nipple piercings. Her hair was pulled up, with one of those claw clips in the back. All the make-up and shit that she had on at the club was gone. She was bare, and I fucked with her this way. I liked the makeup too though. I wasn’t one of those hating ass niggas that didn’t like for a woman to get dolled up.

When Deja stepped out, I noticed that not only was she limping, but she was squinting her eyes too, as if she couldn’t see.

“Why you limping? And why you squinting? You can’t see?” I asked her back-to-back questions.

“I’m a stripper, Wolf. My body is sore. I have cuts on the back of my foot, and bruises on my thighs. I’m squinting because I took my contacts out. My glasses are home,” she let me know, about to cut past me, so that she could sit in the chair that was next to me, but I grabbed her arm, stopping her.

I didn’t want to blow the smoke in her face, so I pulled my feet down from the railing, held the cigar down with my left hand, and with my right hand, I took it off her arm, and just examined her. That pole worked the fuck out of her ass tonight. She was right about the bruises. There were purplish bruises on her thighs.

Just wanting to see if that shit was causing her any pain, I reached out, rubbing on the bruise to see if she would flinch a little bit, and she did. I noticed that she had some kind of ointment on there too.

“You gotta dance tomorrow, and bruise your thighs up again?” I asked her, once I removed my hand from her thigh.

“Yep. It’s all a part of the naked hustle,” she responded, walking away, and she finally took the seat that was next to me.

Instead of keeping her feet down, she pulled them up. She sat Indian style in the chair, folded her arms, keeping them in her lap.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I released.

“Yeah. I have terrible vision,” she said.

“I gotta see you with your glasses on. I’m sure you look innocent as fuck,” I went on to say, and when I finished saying it, she laughed, while turning her head, so that she could look at me.

She batted those big ass eyes at me, and I damn near started blushing.

“I don’t look innocent to you without them, Wolf?” she wanted to know.

“You do. You look like you can do no wrong. Like you wouldn’t hurt a fly,” I said, but I knew the real.

I knew her ass was a firecracker. I knew there wasn’t shit innocent about her. I watched her get on the stage tonight, and hold onto so much confidence, doing all kinds of tricks on the pole, demanding everyone’s attention. An innocent person wasn’t doing all that.

“Hmm,” was all she said, and finished looking ahead of her.

“I ain’t going to lie to you, I don’t have nothing but respect for what you do. You already know that I’ve never really been the kind of nigga to be outside. I’ve been to strip clubs in the past, but that shit was never my thing. Even the strippers that I saw back then, I swear the ones I saw not even on your level. Seeing you tonight, you earned that title of being called the Queen of the Pole. No disrespect, but it takes a certain kind of bad bitch to get on stage and demand everybody’s attention in the room. Nobody took they eyes off you. I had the perfect shot of you. Nobody was on their phone. Everybody was glued to you. Grown ass men drooling over you. Women looking at you, wishing they could be you. You’re exactly who the fuck you think you are,” I had to tell her that shit.

I know I’ve already seen Deja in her element twice, but something about tonight was different. Something about the way she could sell that club out was special. Her name alone had that line wrapped around the building. I had to let her know she was the shit.

“You think you’ll always feel that way about what I do?” she wanted to know.

I put the cigar to my lips, took a pull, and then blew the smoke out into the air.

“Why wouldn’t I? I told you before that it ain’t my job to change you. I know what you do for a living. Your confidence is sexy to me. The way you make your money is sexy to me. You can take a nigga’s whole paycheck without even giving him the pussy. You know you got power, and you using it to your advantage. That’s admirable, love,” I left it at that.

I smoked the cigar for about five more minutes and then put it out.

She could feel me from her peripheral putting the cigar out because she turned and looked at me. She had a look in her eyes, like she was wishing that I wasn’t about to get up and go in the house. I wasn’t going anywhere though. I was about to stay my ass out here.