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It got real silent for a minute and I knew Chanel was thinkin’ ’bout what to say next, but she knew she’d catch it so she let it go. “I feel you,” she finally said, sighin’. “Anyway, listen…I was gettin’ ready to dial ya number before Tamia hit me up. Have you heard from Iris?”
“No, why?” I asked, pickin’ up this book, Get Money Chicks, I had bought at Borders a few days ago, off the glass table, then flippin’ through it. “Her dumb ass is probably somewhere mulin’ for that nigga.” I shook my head, glancing at a chapter where one of the dumb-ass chicks in the book was doin’ the same shit. Humph. These stupid bitches are e’ery where! “Bitches nowadays too busy tryna do them to give a fuck ’bout pickin’ up a phone to let a bitch know they aiight, so I wouldn’t even stress ya’self.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be if her moms hadn’t called me lookin’ for her, and Tamia hasn’t heard from her either. That’s not like her. Her moms sounded real worried. She said she hadn’t heard from her in three days, and she’s not answerin’ her cell.”
“Humph. The bitch’s probably laid up somewhere with a dick shoved down her throat,” I stated, tossin’ the book back on the table. There was no need to read shit ’bout a bunch of dumb bitches when I already knew two dumb ones up close ’n personal. I sparked another blunt, then pulled it deep into my lungs until the shit burned. I coughed.
“What, you blazin’?” she asked.
“Yep,” I said. “Straight to the muthafuckin’ head. I’ma get lifted all fuckin’ day.”
She laughed. “With ya fiend ass. Save me some.”
The call waitin’ beeped. I glanced at the number. It was my aunt Rosa. I let the shit roll into voicemail. “Why, you comin’ through?”
“Hell yeah,” she replied, soundin’ all excited ’n shit. I could almost see the bitch droolin’. “I’m throwin’ on some clothes right now. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Who’s soundin’ like the fiend, now?” I asked, laughin’.
“Whatever, ho,” she said, joinin’ in my laughter. “You need me to pick up anything while I’m out?”
“Nope.”
“Bet. I see ya in a minute.”
“Lata, trick.” As soon as I hung up with Chanel, the Kat line rang. I answered, “Yeah?”
“What’s good, pretty baby?”
I rolled my eyes. “Life,” I said. “Now tell me what I gotta do to get you outta mine?”
He laughed. “Oh, shit. That’s cold. But, if ya really wanna know, then I’ma keep shit real. Let me take ya fine ass away for the weekend so I can slide this big, black dick up in ya guts.”
Cash was one funny muhfucka. I couldn’t even get mad at the nigga ’cause I knew he was talkin’ shit. But I still had to check his ass. “Muhfucka,” I said. “I’d take two to the head before I ever let you run ya dick up in me. I don’t give a fuck how big it is. Believe that.”
“Then you need to let me eat that pussy.”
I shook my head, laughin’. As ugly as his muhfuckin’ ass was, his dick and tongue game were probably wicked. On some real shit, the nigga looked like he could tear some pussy up. The imprint of his thick dick flashed in my head. What the fuck is wrong with me, I thought, shakin’ the image outta my head. My private cell started ringin’, then my house phone. I let them shits go into voicemail.
“Wrong answer, nigga. You can’t even sniff my pantyliner.”
“Damn, you sure know how ta crush a nigga’s spirits. Let me stop fuckin’ with you. I mean, don’t get it twisted; I’d dick and tongue you down in a heartbeat, stretch that fat ass right out the box, but I know you ain’t havin’ it. I like talkin’ shit to ya nasty ass, ma.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said. “Now, how can I help you?”
“I got some outta town work for ya.”
My phones rang again.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, goin’ upstairs to put somethin’ on before Chanel got here. I had been chillin’ in my lace panties. “Where and when?”
“Vegas. In three days.”
Even though I’d been to Vegas in February for All-Star weekend, I hadn’t really gotten a chance to take in much of the happenin’s. Besides, it was so fuckin’ packed I couldn’t really move like I wanted. So goin’ back was all good. I figured I could hit the Fashion Show Mall on the strip to hopefully buy some bangin’ shit, check out that show Zumanity at New York-New York, and maybe even gamble it up a bit.
“Cool. I’ll fly out a day or two early and chill.”
He laughed. “Why the fuck I know you was gonna say that shit?”
