Page 6 of Gangsta

He smiled then looked out the window. Keondra was too passionate for me. I needed some disconnected shit to dive into. She was into the moment like I was her nigga… staring into my eyes, slow fucking me, tongue kissing me slow. That shit had me running scared. She was right. I was fucking scared of her ass. No woman had ever gotten that close to my emotions, not even my mother.

According to my pops, her ass bailed when I was three months old, and I hadn’t seen her since. I never even had a desire to know who she was. In my mind, Mrs. Elaine was my mama. My dad had to tell me that she wasn’t my mother repeatedly, but I wouldn’t hear of it. When she passed away, that was it. Whenever teachers asked about my mama, I told them she died.

So, when Keondra came along and started pulling shit out of me that I’d never felt, I tucked tail and ran. The rest of the vacation was filled with thoughts of her. I could barely focus at Jungle and Chelsea’s wedding. That nigga had to elbow me when it was time to give him the ring.

Even when we decided to go hiking and shit in El Yunque Rainforest, my mind was gone. Chad had done practically broke his fucking neck, acting a fool, running from a coquí frog, and I couldn’t even really laugh like everybody else.

That woman was dangerous as fuck. Thankfully, I didn’t run into her while I was still in the game in Houston. She could have fucked around and had me so distracted I would have gotten killed. I could only shake my head at the possibilities. Now that I’d seen her sexy ass again, she was on my mind like she never left. She said her number changed, but she was probably lying. She wanted me inside that tight ass pussy again, and that was surely where I wanted to be.

When I got home, I turned to see Zamir’s lil ass sitting next to the car seat. I swore this lil boy was gon’ be the death of me. “Man, how you get out that damn car seat?”

He laughed like the shit was funny. I wondered if he did this shit with his daddy. Probably not. I had never heard him say anything about Zamir doing anything outside of meddling with shit he had no business fucking with. This was something he did with me to get a rise out of me. When I opened the back door, he looked at me and lifted his hands. “I mart!”

“Yeah. Too fucking smart for your own good.”

TWO

KEONDRA

“Take a deep breath in and hold it for five, four, three, two, one… release.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. It was the same thing every time I went to voice lessons. I wasn’t sure why she started class this way, other than to calm us down. Maybe it did help. She was the instructor, so I supposed she knew what she was doing. I probably needed that shit today anyway. After running into Joel, my nerves were shot. I didn’t know why I’d gotten so irritated with him, and that was what was bothering the hell out of me.

He was so fine. He was literally the finest man I’d ever come in contact with. He had to be every bit of six feet three inches. Tall men were just my speed since I was pretty tall myself. Typically, I liked them six feet or taller. His hair and beard had me drooling. It was so thick, soft, and healthy looking. I could tell he took pride in taking care of it. His curls were silky.

However, his muscular frame and thick lips had me at hello. Speaking of hello, when he spoke and I heard that H-Town twang, I was in shock. What were the odds that I would meet a man from Houston all the way in Puerto Rico? That medium brown skin was calling me to lick all over him. I was never shy about what I wanted, and Joel was the man I wanted at the first sight of him.

I knew he was shocked that I was down to fuck him. Girls is players too, nigga. When it came to sex, I was free as a bird. I didn’t sleep with any and everybody, but if I saw someone of interest, then I was down. My gut couldn’t be toyed with. It was always on point, and it told me that Joel would be worth my time sexually. He was trying to remain disconnected, but I knew I wouldn’t get everything he had to offer that way.

I had to pull that shit out of him. When I did, he got scared. He could say whatever he wanted to say. He was into the moment, probably more than he’d ever been, and that scared the hell out of him. Granted, I was more into the moment than I originally intended to be also, but I wasn’t going to run from it. I’d been desiring a deep connection for a few years now. Maybe that was why I was irritated. I thought he would be that someone.

He was a bad boy though. I could tell by his swag. The man was outright dangerous, and for someone like him, being involved with a woman could compromise his entire life. I needed a gangsta… a man that would thug me out like he did those streets… a man that would fuck me until I was black and blue. He would protect me with his life. I liked a possessive ass man.

According to my mama, my daddy was the same way. There wasn’t a thing that was off limits when it came to her and his children. I had two sisters, one older and one younger. My older sister had moved to Florida. When she went to Florida State, she didn’t bother coming back. She hated the street life, since that was what took our dad from us. I gravitated toward it.

She was seven and a half years older than me, so she remembered our father well. I was only six or so when he was killed. I remembered parts of him. That was probably why I wanted a street nigga. They were reminiscent of my daddy. My other sister was only three at the time and didn’t remember a thing about him.

Yunique and my mama stayed into it about street shit. After Daddy was killed, his boys looked out for us. That meant we were still involved in it. Yunique would always question whether they had our best interest at heart or if we would be in the line of fire when it came to their bullshit. So, when she got an academic scholarship to FSU, she hauled ass there, not realizing the niggas she hated being around us were the ones paying for that shit.

She got a job as a dentist in Tallahassee, and we hadn’t seen her in years. When Mama got remarried to another hood nigga fifteen years ago, she was pissed. She hadn’t been to Houston since. My mama was a good woman. She wasn’t one of those ratchet hoes. She just liked hood niggas, and I followed right in her footsteps. Yunique and I talked at least once a month, but she hated that I’d fallen down the beaten path that Karen did.

She refused to call our mama anything other than Karen now, like she wasn’t a mother to her. Regardless of her personal decisions, there wasn’t a time that I could think of where our mother wasn’t there for us. She was just as involved as a fucking soccer mom, but Yunique wouldn’t hear of it. It made me wonder if something had happened to her that she refused to talk about. That would be the only way her attitude toward us, and hood niggas as a whole, would make sense.

As I tried to tune in to my vocal coach, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift. My interaction with Joel was playing through my mind repeatedly. It was like I was trying to think of a better way I could have handled the interaction. I wanted to see him again, but I told his ass that my number had changed. Ugh! What in the fuck was wrong with me? That one interaction with him two years ago had been playing through my mental like it happened yesterday.

That shit wouldn’t let up. I would literally be fucking somebody else and thinking about him, gassing niggas up tremendously by how my body would respond. My eyes fluttered as I thought about his gentle but firm grip around my neck. I didn’t know how I felt gentleness in that shit. I supposed because I knew he could choke me to death if he wanted to. I didn’t know that nigga from Adam.

I refused to call him Vegas, though, because I knew that was who the streets knew him as. I wanted to summon Joel… the real him. Joel was who craved everything I did. Vegas was who was running scared. Just the fact that he remembered my name told me everything I needed to know.

“Keondra, do you care to join us?”

My eyes darted up to the instructor, and I frowned. “I’m paying you. If I want to sit here and daydream all day, that’s my fucking business. Now carry on.”

The audacity of her to try to embarrass me in front of people like I was a damn kid. She didn’t know gangsta ass Keondra, but she’d just made an acquaintance in front of the entire class. The fuck she thought. Everyone’s brows had lifted as she cleared her throat and did what the fuck I told her to do. This class wasn’t mandatory. As a voice over artist, I only took this class to help me progress. I also took acting classes. Narrating for commercials and local awards shows was cool, but I wanted to start doing audiobooks as well. That would require some acting.

After taking deep breaths, I tried to tune in since I’d signed a contract for twelve sessions. This was only session seven. If I stopped coming, I would still have to pay for the next five months. That was why she felt comfortable saying what she said. She would get paid regardless. I was more than sure she didn’t bank on me coming back at her ass though. Once this contract was done, she wouldn’t see me again, not in this setting.

The minute class was over, I grabbed my bag and walked right up to her. She looked nervous as fuck, and I loved that. At least I knew she wouldn’t pull that shit again. “Yes, Ms. Mott?”

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