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But this time was different. He had a girl.
Shit.
Not for long, though, if she didn’t start fucking him right. In the streets, Lamar could be ruthless. Gully. And dangerous. But there was another side of him when it came to women, especially the ones he took an interest in. He’d give them the shirt off his back if they needed it. And he’d gladly give them his hard dick, on call, if they wanted that too. Anything they needed, anything they wanted, he’d make it happen. No questions asked.
He leaned in and splashed cold water on his face. He had to get his head in the game. He had a job to do tonight. There was no time to let this shit fuck up his paper. Period. He reached for one of the white complimentary face cloths and dried his face, then shut the water off. He stared at his reflection again. He thought back on the first time he’d linked up with Pasha. She’d sucked his dick like no other female had in his life. She’d spun his top so good that he’d come in her mouth in less than eight minutes, then had staggered backward, collapsing on her bed.
He clenched his jaw. Nairobia and Pasha both had a way with making him nut fast. The shit wasn’t a good look.
I ain’t no fuckin’ minuteman!
Lamar’s cell buzzed in his front pocket. Pulling it out, he sighed. Speaking of the devil in designer heels. His voice was hoarse when he answered, “Yo?”
“Well, hello, stranger,” she said sweetly. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought I’d give you a call to let you know you were being thought of.”
His expression hardened. “Yo, Pasha. Why the fuck you put me on to this broad, yo?”
She blinked, taken aback by his harsh tone. Then her eyes widened. “Ohmygod, no.” She gasped. “Tell me you didn’t…”
He hesitated.
“Yo, my dick got hard,” he said, sighing. “What the fuck else was I supposed to do when all she does it flaunt all that ass up in my face?”
“You take a cold shower. You go home to your woman,” she ticked off. “You lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off.”
“Yeah, fuck a cold shower. And fuck a bathroom stall, yo. And Lana’s dumb-ass not fuckin’ this week. So what the fuck was I s’posed to do? I needed my dick in somethin’ wet.”
Pasha laughed, not surprised that Nairobia had finally had her way with him. She just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. She thought Lamar would be able to resist temptation. Then again…he hadn’t been able to resist her, either, when she’d summoned him to her, the first time. “Ohmygod, you’re a mess,” she said.
He groaned. “Don’t remind me, yo. How you ‘n’ the boys?”
“Oh, no, little daddy,” she said playfully. “I’m fine. And my sons are fine. But you do not get to change the subject.”
He groaned. “Nah, fuck that. I’d rather we did.”
“Not until you tell me. How was it?”
“Yo, word is bond, Pasha. That bitch is deadly.”
And the fucked-up thing was…
He wanted her again.
THIRTY-FOUR
Candles flickered about Nairobia’s living room.
Staring into the flames, she held up the only picture she had of her father. Oba Chukwu. She didn’t know why she’d held on to it. But she had. Taking it everywhere she’d ever been, hidden in a jeweled lockbox in her traveling trunk.
He was the first man Nairobia had had wrapped around her fingers, the man who’d showered her with adoration and kisses and fabulous gifts. Up until the moment he’d turned his back on her, she’d been the center of his universe. Then—snap—he’d disowned her. Just like that. Because she hadn’t conformed to his expectations of what—and whom—he believed she should be.
His dreams for her hadn’t been hers. And she’d refused to allow him to decide her life for her. That had been a defining moment for Nairobia. As a result, she’d carved out her own path in life. Not once, ever, looking back.
She wished more women were like that. Determined. Unyielding. Not allowing a man to define them. Or confine them.
But most weren’t.
She’d forgiven her father a long time ago for breaking her heart. Yet, they still hadn’t rebuilt a relationship. And, deep down, she was okay with that.
