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“And then what?” she asks, glancin’ back over at clique like I give a fuck.
I raise my brow, leanin’ forward in my seat. “You know what, sweetie. I wasn’t gonna fuck this nigga ’cause I wasn’t feelin’ ’im like that. But, the more you standin’ here poppin’ shit, the hotter my pussy is gettin’. And, trust…a hot, wet pussy has no conscience. So guess what? Now I’ma fuck ’im. And I’ma nut all over his muthafuckin’ tongue, so that the next time you think ’bout kissin’ ’im, you’ll be tastin’ me. Trick-ass bitch!”
The crazy bitch tries to lunge at me, but Tone grabs her. She pushes him back. I remain in my seat, smirki
n’. Finally a manager decides to rush over and tells her to take that shit outta here before he calls the police on her retarded ass. Reluctantly, the bitch backs down as her girls decide to pull her away. Mmmph, I wouldn’t be surprised if this low-budget bitch’s on probation or some shit.
“Girl, c’mon,” one’a the booga bears says. “Fuck this square-ass motherfucker and his stank-ass bitch. We’ll catch ’em.”
I clap my hands. “Catch me now, boo. You ain’t said nuthin’ but a word.”
“Ho, I will break your fuckin’ jaw,” Booga One says.
I laugh, tossin’ my hair to the side. “Sweetie, don’t let this pretty face and long hair fool you. You do what you do, and keep it da fuck movin’, okay?”
“Yeah, let’s get the fuck outta here. But don’t think I’m done wit’ you, nigga,” the Shelly bitch hisses at Tone. “I got something for you and that Boss Head you with.”
I wave, tauntin’ her. “Bye, bye, sweetie. Get the fuck outta here wit’ that nappy ass weave, you raggedy-ass bitch. And, on ya way out the door, make sure you think ’bout me while I’m fuckin’ what you can’t have tonight; toodles.”
I purposely say this to set her off more. And it works. She starts yellin’ and screamin’ a buncha extras while bein’ pulled by the arm. I watch as she’s bein’ dragged outside.
Tone immediately starts apologizin’, leanin’ up in his seat. “Yo, I’m sorry ’bout all that. That broad is fuckin’ crazy; that’s why I stopped fuckin’ with her. If I woulda known she was gonna be up in here I wouldna met you here.”
“Don’t sweat it,” I say, watchin’ her exit the buildin’. “That bitch don’t really want it wit’ me, trust.”
After e’erything settles down, the waiter comes back askin’ if we want anything else. I decide I wanna have dessert. That lil’ ruckus done gave me the munchies. I order a peach cobbler. I watch as the waiter walks off, then asks, “So she’s the bird you were guttin’?”
“Yeah, something like that. We met at a club a while back and kicked it a few times. But I cut her off when I found out she was on parole. She got too many issues for me.”
I knew it! “Let me guess,” I say, keepin’ my eye on the door, “for assaults and weapons, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, and drugs. I ain’t with that. I’m tryna make things happen. The last thing I need in my life is that kind of bullshit.”
“Mmmph,” I grunt, twistin’ my lips up. “Well, looks like she done brought it to you.”
“And you know they’ll probably be outside waitin’ with a crew. But it’s whatever. My man’s in ’em will be on alert in case shit pops off. I just feel bad that I got you all up in it.”
I shrug, shakin’ my head. “I’m not fazed. Like I said, they don’t want it wit’ a bitch like me.”
He pulls his phone out and texts someone, then sits the phone on the table. He leans in toward me, restin’ his forearms on the table. “Yo, so did you mean all that shit you was sayin’ to her?”
“All what shit?” I ask, playin’ stupid.
“You know. How you’re gonna take me home with you…and you know…”
“Fuck you?” I finish for him.
He nods, pickin’ up his phone when it buzzes, lettin’ him know he has a text. “Yeah, that.”
The waiter returns wit’ my dessert. I wait for him to bounce, then say, “Is that what you want?”
He grins. “Hell yeah. Who wouldn’t? You bad as hell, ma.” He texts back, then sits his phone back on the table.
I rest my arms up on the table. “You gotta lil’ dick?”
“Is eight-and-a-half little for you?” I peep the Shelly bitch slippin’ back into the restaurant. She walks toward the bathroom as if no one sees her slide through.
Oh, that crazy-ass ho done sealed her fate, I think, grinnin’. My pussy starts to moisten at the thought. She came at the wrong bitch, now I’ma bring it to ’er. “We goin’ to your place or mine?”
